Author: Dr. Nazir Khan

  • Difference of Opinion: Where Do We Draw the Line?

    Difference of Opinion: Where Do We Draw the Line?

    Introduction

    The core tenets of Islam are established by unequivocal statements of the Qur’an and the teachings of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ. On those subsidiary matters that are subject to interpretation, the Islamic tradition has always recognized a scope of legitimate difference of opinion. Muslim scholars, having dedicated their lives to the study of the sacred texts under the tutelage of esteemed masters, are well acquainted with the parameters of such differences. To the lay Muslim, however, being presented with differing opinions on a subject can often be a source of confusion. Without knowing what constitutes valid versus invalid opinions, they may inadvertently adopt erroneous ideas that are antithetical to Islam or be lured into following preachers who lack credibility and academic expertise. 

    Even legitimate differences of opinion can be a source of confusion as Muslims feel conflicted over which opinion to follow in their day-to-day practice of the faith. Some may even find the mere existence of differing opinions to be a source of religious doubt, wondering why God allows such disagreement to exist in the first place. The advent of the digital era of global communication and social media has only intensified this confusion as both information and mass misinformation abound and there has been an exponential increase in the multitude of contradictory online voices clamoring for followers.

    This article is, of course, not going to solve the phenomenon of confusion, nor can it provide an exhaustive summary of vast tomes written on the principles of Islamic jurisprudence (uṣūl al-fiqh) that constitute the methodology for the derivation of Islamic rulings. It does, however, aim to provide a very basic way of thinking about difference of opinion for those who have not undertaken traditional study so as to aid in navigating the confusion. The present article provides an overview of why differences exist, and the principles and parameters for differences of opinion discussed within traditional Sunni Islam.[1] 

    Beginning with the basics

    The essential methodology for following Islam is evident from the very meaning of the word ‘Islam.’[2] Islam means submitting to the way of God and striving to do that which God has asked of us. That necessarily entails following the guidance that God has revealed, which is found within the two foundational sources of Islamic teachings—the Qur’an and the teachings of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ (his Sunnah).[3]

    O You who believe, answer the call of God and His Messenger when they call you to that which will give you life! (Qur’an 8:24)

    This necessitates that God has given us a system of guidance that is meant to be followed and, in order for one to understand that guidance, one must study it and acquire knowledge. This is a crucial point which leads to the concept of textual intentionalism—namely, that there is an intended meaning to the words of the scripture.[4] In other words, we do not invent the meaning of scripture, rather we seek to discover—to the best of our human capacities—the meaning of scripture through study and scholarship. This stands in stark contrast to the post-modernist[5] notion that there is no ‘correct’ way of understanding any text, or that Islam can be altered to mean whatever an interpretive community chooses for it to mean, a sentiment characteristic of much progressive Muslim thought.[6] Any word whose meaning can be altered on a whim in actuality becomes meaningless. If Islam is to have any coherent meaning at all, then it has to involve following the faith as it was revealed by Allah in the Qur’an and explained and implemented by the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ. Moreover, the collective understanding of those who learned Islam directly from the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ, namely his companions, should be taken as authoritative since we believe that the Prophet was successful in communicating and clarifying his message to his audience.[7] 

    The mainstream understanding of Islam transmitted generation after generation throughout the history of this ummah, therefore, carries immense epistemological weight. It is illogical for someone to posit that fourteen hundred centuries of Muslim scholars have been blinded from the plain sense meaning of the Qur’an or the core teachings of the faith and that only in the modern era have we discovered what Islam ‘really’ means. Following the faith on the basis of the Prophetic teachings and the mainstream understanding is what is meant by the term “Ahl al-Sunnah wa-al-Jamāʿah[8] (the People who follow the Prophetic way and the mainstream community of scholars),[9] or ‘Sunni Islam.’ A tradition attributed to the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ states, “My nation will not unite on misguidance, so if you see them differing, follow the great majority.”[10]

    Thus, for Sunni Muslims, an authoritative discourse on Islam necessarily demonstrates reliance on Qur’an and authentic Hadith and must demonstrate continuity with the established understanding of the mainstream community by citing relied-upon historical authorities in Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh), exegesis (tafsīr), hadith, or theology (ʿaqīdah).[11] Note that the extent to which the vicissitudes of society require adaptation of the Islamic tradition is discussed later in the course of this essay. Refer to Appendix I for a listing of major historical figures in the Islamic tradition, including those of each major jurisprudential school, and Appendix II for a framework for interrogating the validity of a viewpoint according to the methodology outlined below.

    Why doesn’t Islam have a central authority?

    Islam is not a human institution like a company, business, or organization that is run based on the personal decisions of a central human figure. To give one person such unilateral authority would entail declaring that they have privileged access to God through divine revelation like a Prophet or Messenger which would nullify one’s belief in the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ as the last and final messenger. Rather, the teachings of Islam are known through learning the Qur’an and Sunnah, and therefore acquiring knowledge of scripture is akin to the manner of attaining mastery in other academic disciplines—medicine, science, mathematics, etc. These are fields based on learning, research, and study. Conclusions are not based on personal opinion but are contingent on the strength of the evidence that one provides. It doesn’t make sense in these disciplines, therefore, to ask for central authorities. Instead, one should seek rigorous standards to ensure sufficient knowledge of the scholars of these fields.

    In an age in which many people are drawn towards the views of those with the greatest number of social media followers, many people today disregard the notion of scholarship altogether and consider anyone capable of issuing Islamic rulings and edicts without the faintest familiarity with the nuances of scriptural hermeneutics.

    Say: Are those equal, those who have knowledge and those who do not know? Only the people of understanding take heed. (Qur’an 39:9)

    The great scholar Abu Isḥāq al-Shāṭibī (d. 790 AH) writes,

    Ijtihād that occurs in religious matters is of two types. The first is legitimate ijtihād, namely that which arises from those who are well-versed in the requisites of ijtihād as the preceding discussion has described. The second type is that which arises from one who is not proficient in the requirements of ijtihād. This is invalid ijtihād, for in reality it constitutes an opinion based on nothing more than conjecture, desires, and personal whims.[12]

    Are all matters in Islam subject to difference of opinion?

    If we agree that the religion is intended as guidance for us, then anything that is definitively established in the Qur’an and the Sunnah is not subject to opinion.

    It is not for a believing man or believing woman, when Allah and His Messenger have decided a matter, that they should [thereafter] have any choice about their affair. And whoever disobeys Allah and His Messenger has certainly strayed into clear error. (Qur’an 33:36)

    Matters that are decisively established in Islam are termed qaṭʿīyatIjtihād—the exercise of scholarly effort in interpretation by one qualified—only applies to those matters that are open to interpretation, where conclusions are established on the basis of probabilistic judgment (termed ẓannīyat). Shaykh Waḥba al-Zuḥaylī writes, “Ijtihād is not permitted in those matters universally known to be from the religion,[13] or established by definitive evidence… Ijtihād is permitted in those matters in which there is a text that is probabilistic in its authenticity and import, or one of the two, or in those matters concerning which there is neither text nor consensus.”[14]

    Just as in any other academic field of study, the main concepts and principles are well known and are established with certainty, while the precise application of those principles are often open to interpretation. For instance, doctors will often disagree over which course of chemotherapy is best for a particular cancer. They will agree, however, that treating it with other types of drugs like antibiotics or antifungals would be inappropriate—because cancer is not an infection.

    Likewise, there are fundamental aspects of Islam that are unequivocal and not subject to debate—that there is only One God, that Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ is His Final Messenger, the articles of faith and the pillars of practice, doctrinal and legal matters subject to consensus, and so on. No one can read the verse that says, “There is only one God” (16:51) and claim that the assertion that there is only one God is nothing more than the ‘opinion’ of scholars and that ‘one’ can actually mean ‘two or more.’ Such a claim would be irrational and absurd; the verse leaves no room for a conclusion other than monotheism.

    There are other matters that are open to interpretation, some of which even the companions of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ differed over—what was the first thing God created, when is the Night of Decree in Ramadan, raising the hands in prayer, when to shorten prayers while traveling, and so on. Most of the matters that are open to interpretation are matters of practical application.[15]

    Why is there sometimes disagreement about what Islam teaches?

    Experts in any academic discipline will agree on the fundamentals but disagree on particular details. Doctors are not all of the same mind when it comes to the efficacy of various treatment options. Nor do scientists all posit the same explanatory hypothesis for a particular observed phenomenon. Disagreement between qualified and capable scholars occurs because some matters are open to interpretation and are not definitive. People study evidence and then seek to develop an understanding based on the strongest interpretation of that evidence. The same process takes place when scholars study the Qur’an and the Sunnah.

    Ask the people of knowledge if you do not know. (Qur’an 16:43, 21:7)

    Why didn’t God just tell us everything explicitly – why leave some matters open to interpretation?

    God values human learning so greatly that He favored Adam over the angels with the gift of knowledge (Qur’an 2:31), He began the revelation of the Qur’an with the instruction to “Read!” (Qur’an 96:1), and He praised the virtue of education and scholarship (Qur’an 20:114, 34:6, 29:43, etc.). Learning, contemplation, analysis, and research are acts of worship in Islam and help a person appreciate the finite wisdom and reasoning of human beings and the infinite perfection of the Divine Omniscient Lord. Islam is an academic faith—the better one studies it, the better one understands it. To excel in one’s journey towards God requires intellectual, moral, and spiritual engagement with the revelation.

    Moreover, many realities that God has created in this life serve as a spiritual test for the believers, including the existence of differences. God states, “And We have made some of you people as a trial for others—will you have patience?” (Qur’an 25:20). The test manifests itself in different ways: whether we will manage our disagreement in a manner that is pleasing to Allah; whether we will adopt a position because we believe it is closest to the truth or because it is more self-serving or politically expedient; whether we will elevate our scholars to infallibility on account of our overzealousness or whether we give them due respect for their expertise while acknowledging their humanity.

    Is difference of opinion a bad thing?

    When difference of opinion occurs in matters that are open to interpretation, and is based on sincerity in finding the truth and proper knowledge, it is a mercy from God and an opportunity to worship Him by using the minds He has gifted us with. This process of sincere scholarly research in such matters is called ijtihād. When difference of opinion is based on cultural influences, partisanship, insufficient knowledge, political motivations, personal desires, and conveniences, it is blameworthy and serves only to harm the community. The contemporary Muslim scholar and a senior member of the American Muslim Jurists Assembly (AMJA), Shaykh Hatem al-Haj writes:

    If intentions are sincere, differences of opinion could bring about a greater awareness of the various possible aspects and interpretations of evidence in a given case. Such differences could generate intellectual vitality and a cross-fertilization of ideas. The process is likely to bring into the open a variety of hypotheses in tackling specific issues.

    Such a process is likely to present a variety of solutions for dealing with a particular situation so that the most suitable solution can be found. This is in harmony with the facilitating nature of the religion of Islam which takes into account the reality of people’s lives.

    These and other benefits can be realized if differences remain within the limits and the ethical norms which must regulate them. If these limits and norms are not observed, differences could easily degenerate into disputes and schisms and become a negative and evil force producing more rifts in the Muslim Ummah, which already has more than enough of such fragmentation. In this way, differences of opinion can change from being a constructive force to being elements of destruction.[16] 

    In leaving certain matters open to interpretation, there is greater flexibility in matters that may be contingent on circumstances and human experiences as Islam crosses various civilizations, generations, and eras. A person once informed the great jurist Imām Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 241 AH) that a book had been written called “The Book of Differences,” and he responded that it should instead have been called “The Book of Flexibility.”[17] When the Caliph Hārūn al-Rashīd asked to implement Imām Mālik’s works of jurisprudence across the ummah for everyone to follow, Imām Mālik objected, saying: “O Leader of the Believers, differences between the scholars is a mercy from God for this ummah. Each follows what he believes to be correct, each upon guidance, each seeking Allah.”[18]

    Sufyān al-Thawrī (d. 161 AH) said, “Verily, fiqh according to us is when a trustworthy scholar provides a legitimate concession (rukhṣah); as for being strict (tashdīd), then anyone can do that well.”[19] Knowing the spectrum of opinions allows the scholar to serve as a true spiritual leader, not presenting multiple opinions to confuse the masses, but rather selecting the view that is most correct and most pertinent to the needs of the community at that juncture. It is reported that the early scholar Ṭāwūs Ibn Kaysān (d. 106 AH) would attempt to strike a balance in his rulings for people—when they were strict in a matter, he would show leniency and when they were lenient, he would be strict. After mentioning this, al-Layth commented, “That is (true) knowledge.”[20] Just as communities vacillate between trends of rigidity and flexibility, conservatism and liberalism, so must the wise scholar counteract extremes by striking a balance and guiding others back to the middle path.

    Defining valid opinions

    There are three simple considerations for one to use as basic guidelines when assessing whether an opinion is valid or not:

    1. Who gave the opinion?

    2. How did they come up with it?

    3. What is the nature of the opinion?

    We will consider these three items in turn (see Appendix II for a summarized diagram).

    1. Was the person who gave the opinion knowledgeable and qualified?

    Just as one would not accept being operated on by a person who was not qualified to be a surgeon, a scholar of Islam must possess credibility and adequate knowledge. The governing maxim is that ijtihād should arise from those appropriately qualified, and it should take place in those matters open to interpretation (al-ijtihād min ahlihī wa fī maḥallihī). Many classical scholars even stipulated mandatory certification examinations to ensure those passing religious verdicts possessed the requisite knowledge.[21] The Ḥanafi jurist al-Tumurtāshī (d. 1004 AH) explained that both the fraudulent scholar and the ignorant physician must be barred from practice.[22] The Ḥanbalī scholar Ibn al-Najjār (d. 972 AH) stated, “It is the responsibility of the legislative authorities to ban unknown and ignorant scholars from issuing religious edicts (fatāwá).”[23]

    There was an incident when the fourth caliph, Imām ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40 AH), passed by a young Ḥasan al-Baṣrī (b. 21 AH; d. 110 AH) lecturing in his circle; ʿAlī interrupted the session to give Ḥasan al-Baṣrī an impromptu quiz, which he successfully passed, whereupon ʿAlī said, “You may continue to lecture now, as you please.”[24] One can know if someone is qualified through educational background, peer recognition within the scholarly community, and their competence in addressing issues and answering questions.

    Obviously, a person is not born a scholar, nor does a person automatically become one because of their appearance, name, ethnicity, language, etc. The only way to become a scholar is through learning. As the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ said, “Verily, knowledge is acquired through learning and study.”[25] The learning must involve the relevant curriculum, and this has been defined in the Islamic tradition to include the study of various manuals (mutūn) in the fields of Arabic language,[26] Hadith sciences,[27] Qur’anic studies,[28] Islamic theology, and Islamic jurisprudence. If a person has not intensively studied the traditional sciences but has acquired studies in a humanities department of a secular institution, this does not grant them the capacity to issue religious edicts. 

    Sometimes traditional learning may take place in a formal institution from which one acquires degrees and certifications (e.g., Masters and Ph.D.), as provided by many Islamic universities in the Muslim world. Sometimes this may occur through ‘traditional’ learning under previous scholars, who may often give ‘licenses to teach’ (ijāzāt al-tadrīs). However, the most important way that anyone is recognized as an expert in anything is through recognition within the community of experts, competence in their contributions, and trust amongst the masses. Imām al-Shawkānī (d. 1250 AH) discusses this topic in his work Irshād al-Fuḥūl ilā ʿIlm al-Uṣūl.[29] An individual is recognized as an expert in economics, philosophy, medicine, engineering, psychology, law, or anything else when existing experts in that field attest to the knowledge and expertise of that individual and when that individual is able to demonstrate their own knowledge in their contributions to the subject, whether in their lectures, articles, books, publications, etc. While a person must know the essentials of all the basic sciences, one does not have to attain mastery of all subjects. Rather, they must demonstrate expertise in the subject in which they exercise ijtihād—thus, someone may be a mujtahid in one subject (e.g., fiqh of finance) but not in another (e.g., fiqh of governance).[30]

    The classical scholars mentioned many general indications of scholarship including that the scholar is trusted amongst the masses and commonly relied upon, that trustworthy people testify to their knowledge and expertise, that they demonstrate competency when examined, and so on. There is really nothing mysterious about figuring out who is a qualified scholar. If a person has the requisite knowledge, they are a person of knowledge. The more knowledge they have, the more knowledgeable they are considered. However, one important way in which religious scholarship differs from secular academia is that religious knowledge is not divorced from morality and spirituality. A person should not trust taking their knowledge from an unscrupulous individual or one negligent of his own religious duties. As Islam encompasses ethical and spiritual teachings, one’s teacher must be one who can be taken as an ethical and spiritual role model. Imām Mālik (d. 179 AH) states that one should learn manners before knowledge and that he was instructed by his mother to acquire manners from his teacher Imām Rabīʿah before acquiring knowledge.[31] The modern Muslim who witnesses an alleged ‘person of knowledge’ who lacks basic etiquette in communicating the message of Islam with dignity and respect, or who engages in mockery or flagrant disrespect towards people of knowledge, should certainly be wary of taking any religious guidance from said individual. This is not an ad hominem argument that the views of an unscrupulous individual are necessarily false. Rather, it is a reflection that spiritual rectification is an integral part of receiving divine guidance, and the layperson seeking to discover the intent of the Divine Legislator should search for the path most consistent with piety as God “guides those who turn to Him” (Qur’an 13:27).

    2. Was the opinion derived from an academic understanding of the Qur’an and Sunnah?

    In order for an opinion to be valid, it has to be based upon the Qur’an and Sunnah, and cannot go against the clear and unequivocal teachings of these sources. It has to be methodologically sound—based on a serious and sincere scholarly effort to understand the sources using the established inferential tools elaborated upon by jurists and the normative principles of the Arabic language. In Islam, methodology matters. Many people are quick to dismiss an opinion because it sounds too “conservative” or “liberal” based on their pre-existing proclivities, but this is a gross methodological error. One cannot declare an answer to be correct simply because it arises from an ideology a person finds appealing, or because of a proclivity to views that are culturally more western or eastern. What matters is whether the opinion was derived from the Islamic sources in a methodologically sound manner, regardless of whether the conclusion sounds more liberal or more conservative to the audience based on their pre-existing biases.

    Relying on ambiguous texts in the Qur’an or Sunnah to go against other clear and decisive texts within scripture is also fallacious, as mentioned in the Qur’an itself (3:7). Sometimes it will not always be clear to laypeople whether an opinion actually conflicts with other scriptural proofs from Qur’an and Sunnah. In finer matters, there will be details to this question that will be beyond the comprehension of laypeople— that is the science of uṣūl al-fiqh or the principles of Islamic jurisprudence (how to derive rulings).

    For instance, there are jurisprudential sources that are agreed upon (Qur’an, Sunnah, ijma,[32] qiyās), and other sources of jurisprudence and inferential tools that are subject to debate and discussion in terms of their validity and relative weight within the epistemological framework of uṣūl al-fiqh. These include inferential tools like istiḥsān (juristic preference), istiṣḥāb (presumption of continuity), istiṣlāh (considerations of public benefit), sadd al-dhārāʾiʿ (closing the doors to harmful consequences), in addition to sources like the actions of the people of Madīnah (ʿamal ahl al-Madīnah), social custom (al-ʿurf), the opinion of a singular companion (qawl al-saḥābī), and pre-Islamic religious law (sharʿu man qablanā).[33] In addition to these juristic tools, many scholars have emphasized the importance of laypeople deferring to the authoritative views of the four major schools of Islamic law. The truth is not confined to the four schools when other great mujtahid scholars have elaborated other views;[34] however, the adoption of such views should be with considerable caution and contingent upon their verification by large committees of scholars.[35] 

    3. What is the content and nature of the opinion itself?

    No one would accept an opinion that violates the very basis of Islam. It is not possible to interpret a hadith or verse in a way that contradicts Islamic monotheism (tawḥīd), for instance. It is not possible to interpret the religion in a way that promotes injustice, immorality, cruelty, and destruction because God negates any attribution of these constructs to Him. In a passage where the Quraysh are cited as claiming that their immoral actions are based on God’s instructions, believers are commanded to simply respond that God commands justice, not immorality—the latter being that which sound human nature flees from.[36]

    And when they commit an immoral deed, they say, “We found our forefathers practicing it, and Allah has commanded us to do it.” Say, “Indeed, Allah does not command immorality. Do you say about Allah that which you do not know?” Say, “My Lord commands what is just, and that you should worship Him alone in places of prostration, and invoke Him, performing your deeds for Him alone.” As He originated you, so shall you return. (Qur’an 7:28-9)

    In 2014, when news of the criminal organization ISIS (or Dāʿish) flooded headlines around the world, many Muslims were confronted with an image of Islam that promoted torture, murder, rape, and all manner of horrific actions, while attempting to use religious justifications for these actions sourced in fiqh and hadith.[37] However, the average Muslim requires no jurisprudential erudition to recognize that the cruelty of ISIS can never belong to the religion of compassion (dīn al-raḥmah), nor can it ever represent the way of the Prophet of mercy (nabī al-raḥmah) ﷺ, nor can it ever be considered from the commandments of our Lord, the Most Compassionate and Most Merciful (al-Raḥmān al-Raḥīm). One does not need to be a muḥaddith or a faqīh[38] to understand that these can never be considered acceptable opinions because they violate the very foundations of Islam. For a detailed examination of this topic, including the factors behind the emergence of violent religious movements, refer to Forever on Trial—Islam and the Charge of Violence.[39] 

    In the lifetime of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ, we have an example where ijtihād was not considered valid for this very reason.

    A man on an expedition suffered a severe wound. Later when he had a wet dream, he inquired from his companions whether he was still required to perform the ritual bath in spite of his wound. They told him it was necessary, and he died because of it. When this news reached the Prophet Muḥammad, he said, “They killed him, may Allah curse them! Why did they not ask when they did not know? Is not the cure for ignorance to ask?”[40]

    In the hadith mentioned above where a person was instructed to do something life-threatening or harmful—this goes against the basic Islamic value and Prophetic statement: “There is to be no harm, nor reciprocating of harm.”[41] al-ʿIzz ibn ʿAbd al-Salām (d. 620 AH) writes, “Islamic law is entirely about advocating humanity’s best interests, by warding off harm and bringing benefit.”[42] He explains that benefits and harms relate to worldly matters (dunyā) as well as the afterlife (ākhirah) and while the latter must be established by scriptural evidence, the former is recognized by rationality and empirical evaluation (“Many of the benefits of the dunyā and the harms are recognizable by the human intellect, and that constitutes the majority of Islamic law”).[43] Therefore, it is inconceivable for Islamic law to advance a ruling that is to the detriment of human well-being. For instance, it requires no scholarly expertise on the part of the lay Muslim to recognize and condemn the evils of murderous groups that perpetrate violence against civilians in the name of religion, since such actions are antithetical to the very tenets of the faith.

    It is important of course to remember that our yardstick in assessing benefit or harm is not the yardstick handed to us by secular humanism, hedonistic materialism, or western liberalism. Rather, benefit and harm must be assessed according to the hierarchical value-structure inherent in Islam that situates human beings on a spiritual journey towards God as custodians upon this Earth. Thus, if someone were to argue in favor of a particular opinion due to the alleged benefit of enabling more accumulation of personal materialistic possessions or worldly pleasures, this would be decisively rejected. Al-Būṭī correctly observed in his work Ḍawābiṭ al-Maṣlaḥah, the point of shari’ah is not to make the human being increase in materialistic wealth (al-ribḥ al-māddī) and physical pleasure (al-ladhdhah al-jasadīyah), but in spiritual success.[44]

    The rulings of divine revelation would never contravene the basic moral values that God has embedded deep within the primordial human consciousness, and those moral values guide the interpretation and implementation of the juristic rulings.[45] Thus, the following verse of the Qur’an calls on us to use our basic moral capacities in the service of God: “Verily, God commands justice, moral excellence, and kind treatment of relatives, and He forbids all forms of immorality, evil, and transgression” (Qur’an 16:90).

    Jurists agreed that any opinion that claims to be Islamic must be consistent with the values of justice, mercy, compassion, modesty, as well as the objectives of Islamic law, namely preservation of faith (spirituality and morality), human life, intellect (knowledge and education), wealth, property, and family. For instance, Ibn Taymīyah utilized a value-based hermeneutic of eliminating injustice to declare certain financial contracts unlawful.[46] Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751 AH) states, “The Shari’ah is founded upon wisdom and the well-being of humanity in this life and the next. It is in its entirety justice, compassion, prosperity, and wisdom, and therefore anything which departs from justice to injustice, from compassion to its opposite, from welfare to harm, or from wisdom to nonsense, then it is not part of the Shari’ah, even if it’s included therein by misinterpretation.”[47] While the basic impulse for these values in embedded within the fiṭrah, in order for the value system to be correctly applied, it must undergo the rigorous spiritual training of immersion in the source texts of sacred scripture and the pious ways of the early Muslim community. Otherwise, any of these ethical concepts can be subjectivized.

    Are there multiple valid opinions on a given matter?

    In matters subject to interpretation, there may be a wide variety of legitimate and valid opinions. It should be noted, however, that two opinions might both be valid—if they are both based on a reasonable and scholarly effort to interpret Islamic scripture—but one may be stronger than the other. Thus, valid opinions can be subcategorized by scholars based on the strength of their evidence. Some opinions are based on abundant scriptural, theological, and conceptual evidence and hence are rightfully categorized as very strong.[48] Other opinions rely on only a few pieces of evidence and theoretical inferences, and hence those opinions are graded as weak by scholars. Evaluating the relative strength of various opinions is the domain of scholarly research, and throughout history scholars would re-evaluate opinions expressed within their school of jurisprudence, making judgments about those that are ‘relied upon’ (muʿtamad), ‘preferred’ (rājiḥ), ‘popularly held’ (mashhūr), and so on. (For the difference between affirming multiple valid opinions versus affirming multiple correct opinions, see the section below titled “Ontology of truth: How many answers are ‘correct’ in the sight of God?”).

    Scholars also emphasized that the simple presence of different valid opinions does not entitle one to select from amongst them according to whatever suits one’s desires or fancies. Rather, there must be a deciding criterion by which one prefers one opinion over another; for the scholar, this would relate to a juristic evidence such as a scriptural text, a legal maxim or principle, or a recognized benefit (maṣlaḥah). The layperson would need to rely on a trustworthy teacher to whom they have access for questions. The adoption of a particular view for the non-mujtahid may also relate to heuristics that suggest the relative strength of an opinion such as the majority view amongst the jurists, or the view of the scholar whom one personally finds most trustworthy, or one may choose to adopt the ‘safer’ view.[49] 

    It has also been widely argued that one should not confine the scope of valid opinions to those found only within the four schools of jurisprudence (Ḥanafī, Shāfiʿī, Mālikī, Ḥanbalī) without due consideration of other early juristic views such as those of the companions and the succeeding generation (tābiʿīn), the seven famous jurists of Madīnah, and other early imams of fiqh (including Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī (d. 124 AH), Layth ibn Saʿd (d. 175 AH), al-Awzāʿī (d. 157 AH), Sufyān al-Thawrī (d. 161 AH), Isḥāq ibn Rāhawayh (d. 238 AH), etc), especially in those cases where there is a significant number of the aforementioned voices adopting another opinion (e.g., the physical purity of alcohol) and large groups of verifying scholars have endorsed such views.[50] For a list of such historical figures, refer to Appendix I.

    Summary of criteria for a valid opinion

    In summarizing the stipulations of Muslim scholars, the following five conditions have been presented in order for an opinion to qualify as a ‘valid’ opinion:[51]

    1. Qualified scholar—that the opinion arises from someone who has the requisite expertise, experience, and peer recognition.
    2. Consistent with consensus—that the opinion does not contradict a verifiable established consensus of Muslim scholars.
    3. Grounded in tradition—that the opinion does not depart from the range of views expressed by the early Muslim community (salaf) and authoritative scholars (NB: this does not apply to novel unprecedented contemporary matters (nawāzil) and other exceptions discussed later).
    4. Does not arise from unacceptable sources—that the basis for the opinion is not a principle or textual or ideological source that has no basis in Islam.
    5. Does not contradict unequivocal evidence—that the opinion does not go against evidence that is authentic, clear, and definitive in its import.[52] 

    There are additional criteria that some scholars add; for instance, Shaykh Hatem al-Haj cites also that the opinion should not contradict mental axioms (badāʾih al-ʿaql) or matters perceptible by the senses (awāʾil al-ḥiss). This is supported by Islam’s strong emphasis on rationality and empirical knowledge,[53] and it would entail the elimination of certain opinions which were at one time plausible to some scholars in the history of the ummah but have since been excluded by incontrovertible empirical evidence. This would include, for instance, the jurists’ opinion that the maximum duration of a pregnancy could be four or more years (Ḥanbalī, Shāfiʿī, Mālikī) or two years (Ḥanafī)—opinions which Ibn Ḥazm (d. 456 AH) declared to be false and based on dubious reports.[54] This criterion also harkens back to the juristic emphasis on harms and benefits being rationally and empirically discernible, and on consulting experts in other disciplines.[55] A salient example is the case of cigarette smoking—once the medical evidence of its harm became evident, the overwhelming juristic consensus shifted to adopting the view that it is prohibited.

    Of course, one should also avoid falling into the fallacious notion of ‘scientism,’ whereby one does not realize or recognize the epistemological limitations of science and appreciate that there are matters that transcend the parameters of empirical investigation. Science can never determine our actual values although it can aid in ascertaining the optimal application of those values to particular scenarios. Moreover, science cannot provide knowledge about matters that extend beyond the natural world, and what it does say about the natural world is circumscribed in important ways as underscored by novel stances in the philosophy of science including  ‘constructive empiricism,’ ‘epistemic structural realism,’ ‘ontic structural realism,’ and so on (see the discussion on misrepresenting the philosophy of science in Human Origins: Theological Conclusions and Empirical Limitations).[56]

    Identifying invalid opinions

    Invalid opinions are those that are methodologically unsound because they fail to meet the criteria stated above. In other words, they are not rooted in any credible scholarly research using the foundational scriptural sources of Islam. However, not all invalid opinions are equal in weight—errors in minor issues are less catastrophic than errors that take place in major issues that nullify the validity of one’s faith or issues that can lead to great moral and societal harm. The practical implication of this point is that the community needs to prioritize solving major problems. An unhealthy obsession with focusing on minor errors at the expense of major issues only leads to further deterioration of the community.

    Difference_of_Opinion_Paper_Diagrams-02

    While scholars of Islam drew a simple line between valid and invalid opinions, they drew a metaphorical big red line demarcating those invalid opinions that were considered to entail a rejection of Islam altogether. The reason for doing this was not out of some sort of depraved yearning to excommunicate individuals but rather to accurately identify the theological boundaries of what constitutes Islam. If Islam had no boundaries, then the statement “I am a Muslim” would be an inherently meaningless and incoherent statement since it could, at the whims of the speaker, mean absolutely anything from “I am a vegan solipsist” to “I am a Buddhist Bolshevik-Leninist.” For the statement to have theological meaning, it must possess certain integral components according to the scholars. If an opinion was antithetical to the doctrines of Orthodox Islam, it was termed disbelief (kufr). At the same time, one must resist the tendency to conflate personal interpretations with unequivocal theological doctrines. Writing on Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī’s work Fayṣal al-Tafriqah bayna al-Islām wa al-Zandaqah, Dr. Sherman Jackson notes the following:

    At bottom, al-Ghazali’s argument against the theological extremists—among whom are both Traditionalists and Rationalists—is that they fail (or refuse) to recognize that their doctrines are grounded in interpretative presuppositions that are historically determined. This failure on their part results in an effective obliteration of the distinction between interpretation and revelation. In effect, theological extremists regard their doctrines as being unmediated through fallible and unavoidably secular processes of human thought. As such, their doctrines are sublated into the transcendental realm of revelation. On this conflation there is virtually no distinction between a primary and a secondary belief. Rather, the theological extremists hold that to go against any of their doctrines is to go against revelation itself, whence the ubiquitous charge of Unbelief hurled against their adversaries.

    Against this tendency, al-Ghazali insists that the only theological doctrines whose violation may serve as a basis for charging a person with Unbelief are 1) fundamentals (uṣūl) i.e., belief in God, the prophethood of Muḥammad, and the Hereafter; and 2) secondary doctrines that are backed by unanimous consensus (ijmāʿ) or handed down on the authority of the Prophet via diffuse congruence (tawātur).[57]

    The act of pronouncing disbelief (takfīr) is a type of legal edict deemed the exclusive prerogative of trained theologians and jurists and is of two types:  al-takfīr al-muṭlaq (generic pronouncement) and takfīr al-muʿayyan (pronouncement on a specific individual). The former took the form of general pronouncements on actions (e.g., “Anyone who deliberately prostrates to an idol has disbelieved” or “Anyone who deliberately desecrates the muṣhaf has disbelieved”), statements (e.g., “Anyone who curses God and His Messenger has disbelieved”), beliefs (e.g., “Anyone who believes that God doesn’t know the future has disbelieved”), or groups (e. g., “The Jahmīyah are disbelievers”).

    On the other hand, takfīr al-muʿayyan entails making a pronouncement on a specific individual, which the scholars, in general, were reluctant to do; they, therefore, stipulated numerous conditions as well as various precluding factors (mawāniʿ). The latter included avoiding making pronouncements against those who were new to the faith, who grew up in distant lands with limited information, and those who lived in times and places where ignorance and misinformation predominated.[58] It was ubiquitously acknowledged that takfīr of a statement or belief did not entail a judgment on the person. Ibn Taymīyah states, “Not everyone who utters a statement of disbelief disbelieves; rather it is only when decisive proof of its disbelief is established for that person.”[59] The conditions Ibn Taymīyah stipulates for takfīr al-muʿayyan in the manifestly known matters of faith (al-masāʾil al-ẓāhirah) include maturity, sound mental health, intentionality, absence of coercion, and absence of unique extenuating circumstances (i.e., the aforementioned scenarios of one who lives in a distant land, a new convert, or someone living in a place of extreme ignorance), while in the less obvious matters of faith (al-masāʾil al-khafīyah) one could be excused for ignorance (ʿudhr bi-al-jahl), misconceptions (shubhah), or misinterpretation (taʾwīl khāṭiʾ).[60]

    There is an incredibly stern warning in Islam against making pronouncements of disbelief against a fellow believer. The Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ stated, “Whoever says to his brother, ‘O disbeliever’ then surely one of them is such.”[61] In other words, it is a tremendous sin to declare someone outside the fold of Islam on the basis of presumptions, and this matter should never be taken lightly by a faithful believer. The matter of takfīr is a matter of issuing a religious edict and legal verdict when it is absolutely necessary to do so and is a matter left to those with qualified scholarship.

    How do we deal with invalid opinions?

    It is important to remember that the faith prescribes wisdom and gentleness in the correction of those individuals who hold an opinion that is invalid, while ensuring that the clarity of the message is not compromised. The focus should always be on clarifying the issue itself so that people are duly educated, rather than focusing on attacking an individual who adopts an invalid opinion. In fact, holding an invalid opinion does not invalidate one from being a valuable member of the community or a transmitter of sacred knowledge. Imām al-Bukhārī (d. 256 AH) narrates hadith from ʿImrān ibn Ḥiṭṭān (d. 84 AH)[62] who was one of the leaders of the Khawārij,[63] from ʿAbbād ibn Yaʿqūb (d. 250 AH)[64] and ʿUbaydullah ibn Mūsá (d. 213 AH)[65] from amongst the Shīʿah,[66] as well as from Abū Yaḥyá al-Ḥimmānī (d. 202 AH)[67] who was a caller to the way of the Murjiʾah.[68] Yet, Imām al-Bukhārī narrated their hadith because they were trustworthy individuals and the hadith did not pertain to their innovations.[69] This was the wisdom of the scholars in recognizing that one can take what is beneficial from others and leave that which is not.[70] 

    Indeed, were it not for this wisdom, then entire fields of Islamic sciences would be robbed of major developments. The Muʿtazilah,[71] considered a heterodox sect by Sunni Muslims, made seminal contributions in uṣūl al-fiqh including Qāḍī ʿAbd al-Jabbār (d. 415 AH) who authored Kitāb al-ʿUmad and Abū al-Ḥusayn al-Baṣrī (d. 436 AH) who authored al-Muʿtamad which laid foundations followed by subsequent works,[72] as well as Abū Bakr al-Jaṣṣāṣ (d. 370 AH)[73] whose work al-Fuṣūl fī al-Uṣūl is the first comprehensive and systematic work on uṣūl al-fiqh  in the Ḥanafī madhhab. The Muʿtazilī theologian Abū ʿUthmān al-Jāḥiẓ (d. 255 AH) made major contributions in Arabic rhetoric (in addition to his scientific contributions in zoology and mathematics).[74] In tafsīr, the value of the work al-Kashshāf by al-Zamakhsharī (d. 538 AH) is well-known, and likewise in the study of shādhdh qirāʾāt, the work Al-Muḥtasab by Ibn Jinnī (d. 392 AH) is indispensable. Muʿtazilī terminology that has become foundational includes mutawātir (mass-transmitted narrations) in Hadith sciences[75] and iʿjāz al-Qurʾān (miraculous nature of the Qurʾan) in Qurʾanic sciences.[76] 

    The falāsifah were generally more heterodox than the Mu’tazilah, and yet from amongst them Ibn Rushd (d. 595 AH) who authored one of the most important texts on comparative fiqh—Bidāyat al-Mujtahid wa Nihāyat al-Muqtasid—still studied in most major Islamic institutions of learning around the world. It becomes apparent that the intellectual heritage of the Sunni tradition received major contributions from those who sometimes diverged from it in significant ways.[77] Indeed, Sunni scholars in the past never ceased to value such contributions and to draw upon them, while also academically refuting the creed of heterodox groups.

    A statement often attributed to the Prophet ﷺ states, “Wisdom is the lost property of the believer; wherever he finds it, he has the greatest right to it.”[78] This highlights a pragmatic approach to benefiting from others with whom one may maintain strong disagreements. Unfortunately, this attitude is diminished in modern times. The moral absolutism with which contemporary social media brands individuals as wholly pure or wholly evil is a travesty as is the ‘guilt by association’ that comes with it. If someone finds an article or position with which they disagree, not only will they condemn that individual, but they also attempt to discredit any organization or institution that has ever featured any opinion of that individual. Often the disagreement is not even over the religious ruling itself but how one understands the sociopolitical situation and weighs its relative benefits and harms. What has been lost is the understanding that one can disagree with a view without discrediting all good that comes from a person or an organization associated with that person.

    Ontology of truth: How many answers are ‘correct’ in the sight of God?

    When scholars differ on a matter, is there only one true answer in the sight of God or are there multiple correct answers? There is agreement that in the case of differences in the canonical modes of reciting the Qurʾan (qirāʾāt) there are multiple correct answers,[79] and in differences in doctrinal fundamentals, there is only one correct answer.[80] But what about differences in jurisprudence or secondary matters of the religion that are open to interpretation (furūʿ)?[81] There is considerable discussion of this topic in the Islamic tradition and the two competing camps are called muṣawwibah (those who affirm multiple true answers; i.e., truth pluralism)[82] and mukhaṭṭiʾah (those who affirm only one true answer). While the latter position was undoubtedly the view of the majority of jurists, many of the mutakallimūn are said to have adopted the first view which entails that in those issues for which there is no decisive text (i.e., ẓannīyat), there are multiple true answers in the sight of God. This was the position of the Muʿtazilah theologians (including Abū al-Hudhayl al-ʿAllāf (d. 227 AH), Abū Hāshim al-Jubbāʾī (d. 321 AH) and Abū ʿAlī al-Jubbāʾī (d. 303 AH)),[83] and this view was also espoused by many Ashʿarī scholars, including Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī (d. 505 AH) in al-Musṭaṣfá[84] as well as Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī (d. 404 AH). In fact, al-Juwaynī (d. 478 AH) attributed this view to the majority of Ashʿarīs, as did the Māturīdī Ḥanafī scholar ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn al-Samarqandī (d. 539 AH).[85] However, al-Juwaynī himself and other notable Ashʿarī scholars including Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī (d. 606 AH), Sayf al-Dīn al-Āmidī (d. 631 AH),[86] and Shihāb al-Dīn al-Qarāfī (d. 684 AH)[87] adopted the viewpoint of the majority of jurists, that there is only one true answer in any matter.

    This point is alluded to in the following hadith of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ: “If a judge makes a ruling, striving to arrive at the truth and he is correct, then he will have two rewards. If a judge makes a ruling, striving to apply his reasoning and he is incorrect, then he will have one reward.”[88] The scholars, such as the eminent jurist Badr al-Dīn al-Zarkashī (d. 794 AH), explain that this hadith indicates that while every sincere scholarly effort is rewarded, the correct answer in the sight of God is still singular.[89] One of the interpretations is right, even though one may never know with certainty which is correct during this life. Two contradictory claims cannot both be true,[90] and hence the majority of scholars explain that there is one correct answer, even though we may have many valid differing opinions on what that correct answer is.[91] The actions of both groups may be correct as long as they followed the correct process of ijtihād even though the truth with God remains singular.[92] When the Prophet ﷺ affirmed the correct action of two groups of his companions who differed over when to pray ʿAṣr on their expedition to Banū Qurayẓah, he was affirming that both groups had exercised correct ijtihād. However, it should also be noted that while one affirms the view that truth in the view of God is singular, the very fact that difference of opinion exists in the ẓannīyat is a consequence of the Divine Will to leave some matters open to interpretation, and therefore contains wisdom.

    Moreover, it is worth noting that some of the muṣawwibah held a moderate position and stated that, although all opinions are correct, one of the opinions corresponds to the ruling that God would have chosen if, hypothetically, He had legislated a definitive ruling on the issue. In other words, one opinion is still superior to the other opinions. This view has been termed al-Ashbah and it is attributed to the Shafiʿī jurist Ibn Surayj (d. 306 AH), and Ḥanafī jurists Qāḍī Abū Yūsuf (d. 182 AH) and Muḥammad ibn Ḥasan al-Shaybānī (d. 189 AH),[93] in addition to the early Ḥanafī legal theorist Abū al-Ḥasan al-Karkhī (d. 340 AH).[94] Comparing this view with that of the mukhaṭṭiʾah, one may notice that the gulf between them is in fact not very large, since the view of the mukhaṭṭiʾah does not negate that, in leaving a matter subject to interpretation due to a wisdom known to Him, God deliberately allowed for the existence of differing opinions. Thus both groups—the mukhaṭṭiʾah and those who adopt al-ashbah—recognize that there is a degree of divine sanction for multiple opinions while still regarding one opinion as superior to the rest.[95] A central concern for the jurists—as Anver Emon notes—was to acknowledge the fallibility of human interpretation without undermining the authority of juristic interpretations in providing guidance:

    The jurists of both schools of thought [i.e., muṣawwibah and mukhaṭṭiʾah] theorized about the theology of God and the law, recognized the inevitability of indeterminacy in the law, and upheld the authority of ijtihādic rulings amidst the reality of human fallibility. All recognized that the ijtihādic product must carry some weight, lest Shari’ah fail to offer guiding principles for those seeking to live good and fulfilling lives. Both groups argued toward the same end result: the authority of juristic determinations, subject to a system of evaluation that assumes the fallibility of ijtihādic conclusions.[96] 

    The practical consequence of this discussion is that the believer does not pick and choose opinions as a matter of personal convenience. Rather, one strives to follow what is believed in one’s heart to be correct on the basis of trusted scholarship while respecting other differing viewpoints.

    Does Islamic law change with time and place?

    First, it’s important to recognize that the moral values and theology of Islam are not subject to change. The truth of believing in doctrinal matters such as the resurrection or believing in miracles is unaffected by an alteration in social circumstances. Nor will there ever come a time when Islam does not value kindness, patience, modesty, honesty, and justice. Similarly, the ritual acts of worship (ʿibādāt) are generally invariant as well, with rare extenuating circumstances. When we talk of changing rulings with the changing of circumstances, we are generally referring to matters in Shari’ah related to societal laws (muʿāmalāt) or customary matters (ʿādāt). As al-Shāṭibī notes, the ʿādāt differ from the ʿibādāt in that they are based on rational considerations (ʿilal/maʿānī) as opposed to being purely devotional in nature (taʿabbudī).[97]

    Having excluded the categories of Islamic theology, morals, and ritual acts of worship, we can now turn to the question of how and to what extent Islamic laws pertaining to social matters can be subject to change. In order to answer this question, we must first distinguish between two terms frequently used to refer to Islamic law, namely fiqh and shari’ah, and the associated distinction between fatwá and ḥukm.[98] Muṣṭafá al-Zarqāʾ provides the first distinction as follows:

    It is very important to distinguish between our saying “the Islamic Sharīʿah” and our saying “the Islamic fiqh.” For Sharīʿah refers to the texts (nuṣūs) of the Qur’an revealed by Allah to the Prophet Muḥammad, and to the Prophetic Sunnah which comprises the sayings and actions of the Prophet which explain and detail the guidance contained in the Qur’an and provide a practical application of the Qur’an’s commandments, prohibitions, and permissions. […] As for fiqh it refers to what scholars have understood from the religious scriptures and what they have derived and affirmed therefrom, and the rules they have postulated based on inferences of the texts.[99]

    First of all, this echoes what this paper has stated repeatedly from the beginning—the major parts of Islamic law are clear-cut while subsidiary issues are subject to human interpretation. Secondly, this distinction between “the Islamic Shariah” and “the Islamic fiqh” highlights the way these terms have been used by some scholars to draw a conceptual distinction between these two categories. A similar conceptual distinction is drawn by Ibn Taymīyah, albeit using different terminology, viz. al-Sharʿ al-Munazzal to refer to the divinely revealed unequivocal laws of the Qur’an and Sunnah, and al-Sharʿ al-Muʾawwal to refer to the human understanding and application of those laws.[100] The former refers to those areas of Islamic law that are clear-cut and definitive, while the latter refers to those areas that are subject to scholarly interpretation. The moral bedrock of Islam is constituted by the vast corpus of unchanging rulings and principles that form the foundation and upon this edifice, scholars elaborate an upper layer of elements subject to interpretation in application. Thus, Islamic law contains a dual-layer morality—an immutable scripturally enshrined set of precepts (sharīʿah), and the human derivation and application of those principles sensitive to the changing of time and place (fiqh).

    When a scholar of Islam looks at a rule (ḥukm) in the Qur’an and Sunnah and issues a verdict on how it applies to a particular scenario or context, that verdict is termed a fatwá; it incorporates “a concrete social reality.”[101] The scholars of Islam typically described the factors that could lead to a fatwá changing based on the changing of circumstances under the topic taghayyur al-fatwá bi taghayyur al-zamān wa al-makān (alteration of fatwá based on the alteration of era and place).[102] This topic—like the topic of maqāṣid al-sharīʿah (objectives of Islamic law)—has certainly been abused by those who seek to open the floodgates of change in order to dilute the religion.[103] The misuse of such concepts notwithstanding, it would be equally harmful to reject such vital jurisprudential concepts out of sheer opposition, and thereby end up discarding the metaphorical maqāṣid baby with the bathwater. Rather, the solution is to identify the legal parameters (ḍawābiṭ) and conditions (shurūṭ) that govern the alteration of fatāwá and the consideration of public benefits (maṣāliḥ).

    The dominant consideration in matters pertaining to the changing of a ruling in a particular scenario is that of the ʿillah (translated variously as ‘effective cause,’ ‘ratio legis,’ or ‘determining factor’) behind the ruling. The ʿillah is the rationally discernible cause that determines why and when something is instructed, sanctioned, or prohibited in the sharīʿah. It is distinct from, but linked to, the divinely intended wisdom (ḥikmah) behind why God instructed, sanctioned, or prohibited something. For instance, the reason why alcohol is prohibited is its intoxicating effects. Consumption of grapes is permissible but when turned into intoxicating wine it becomes impermissible; and when the wine is turned into vinegar it no longer is impermissible. Therefore, the determining factor (ʿillah) for the prohibition is the resulting intoxication, and anything which is found to be intoxicating is prohibited due to the presence of the same ʿillah.[104] The juristic maxim in this regard is that ‘a ruling revolves around the presence or absence of its effective cause’ (al-ḥukm yadūru maʿa ʿillatihi wujūdan wa ʿadaman).[105] On the other hand, the wisdom behind prohibiting intoxicants may relate to numerous spiritual, physical, or personal benefits, both short-term and long-term, in abstaining from intoxicating substances, such as the ‘preservation of one’s intellectual faculties,’ which is one of the goals of Islam (maqāṣid al-sharīʿah), or the elimination of a major factor in crime. While the reduction of difficulty may be the wisdom behind shortening one’s prayers, the ʿillah is traveling, and it is ʿillah which determines the presence or absence of a ruling. The ʿillah must be definitive and determinate (munḍabiṭ); it can be recognized by explicit textual evidence (ʿillah manṣuṣah) or derived by juristic reasoning (ʿillah mustanbaṭah).[106] Umar Moghul writes:

    The legal reasoning constructed by Muslim jurists to ascertain the ‘illah is far more systematic and detailed than the reasoning developed by the Anglo-American Common Law. The Islamic system approaches precision and accuracy far more closely than the Anglo-American Common Law; in fact, the manner in which the ‘illah is determined is seemingly quantifiable. Moreover, the Muslim system avoids rigidity by closely linking the ‘illah with the objectives of the law.[107]

    The Azharī scholar Muḥammad Muṣṭafá al-Shalabī offers several instances where a ruling was altered based on the absence of the ʿillah in his dissertation on Taʿlīl al-Aḥkām (ratiocination of rulings) under the subject heading, “Rulings that were unqualified or determined by an ʿillah but when examined it was found that the ʿillah had subsided or that for which the ruling was prescribed had changed; thus the rulings changed accordingly.”[108] One example is that of the Prophet ﷺ refraining from continuing congregational prayers during the nights of Ramadan due to fear they would become obligatory upon his followers; as this reason no longer existed during the time of ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb, he united those praying in the mosque in a single congregation. Another example is the prohibition related to the seizure of stray camels during the time of the Prophet ﷺ. Stray camels were allowed to be taken and sold during the rule of ʿUthmān to ensure they were looked after once the owner had been given the opportunity to reclaim them; during the rule of ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, however, a shelter was built for them using the public treasury and they weren’t allowed to be sold.[109]

    One can find numerous examples of jurists historicizing the verdicts of their predecessors throughout Islamic history. For instance, Imām al-Sarakhsī (d. 483 AH) and many others explain many of the differences between Abū Ḥanīfah (d. 150 AH) and his two students, Abū Yūsuf (d. 182 AH) and Muḥammad ibn Ḥasan al-Shaybānī (d. 189 AH), as being not the outcome of different scriptural explanations and rulings but simply the outcome of differences in the historical context in which they lived (ikhtilāf ʿasr wa zamān lā ikhtilāf ḥukm wa bayān)[110]—including economic, political, cultural, and societal differences. This is in spite of the fact that they were only one generation apart. During his time, Abū Ḥanīfah restricted the crime of ḥirābah (brigandry) to apply only to unpopulated areas as it was in these areas that people were unarmed and insecure, as opposed to urban areas where people were armed and not helpless—something al-Sarakhsī notes changed with time.[111] This is why someone cannot simply cut and paste rulings from the classical books of jurisprudence without an awareness of the historical circumstances under which scholars promulgated those edicts as well as a detailed awareness of the contemporary context.

    Prior to the industrial revolution, societies found themselves in the inescapable grip of Malthusian economic constraints that determined the nature of many societal realities including the inevitability of conquest, coercive labor institutions, educational access, collectivist cultural norms, and so forth.[112] Following the industrial revolution, along with the advent of nation-states and international law, the emergence of digital communication and globalization, many realities of the premodern world can no longer be assumed. Discerning which elements of the jurisprudence of social interactions were contingent upon historical realities that are no longer present is the prerogative of qualified jurists who are well acquainted with the realities of their times and the ʿilal (plural of ʿillah) of the relevant rulings. Ibn al-Qayyim writes,

    Whoever gives fatwá to people based only on what is transmitted from books despite the differences in their customs, norms, eras, localities, situations, and circumstances, then he is misguided and misguides others. His crime against the religion is greater than the crime of the physician who treats all people with what he finds in a single medical book while neglecting the differences in their lands, norms, times, and physical natures.[113] 

    The reason for this is that a particular ruling may have different consequences depending on the situation. Islamic law necessarily must take into consideration different circumstances and where those circumstances lead to harms and benefits that were not realized before, the ruling changes. Al-Shāṭibī writes that Islamic law necessarily takes into consideration the consequences of actions (maʾālāt al-afʿāl) and whether those consequences lead to greater benefit or greater harm.[114] Law does not exist in isolation—this is as true for Islamic law as it is for any other type of law. Rather, law is a response to a fact matrix; it represents the course of action that is required to create a new set of facts that yield a just result. Indeed, something may be in and of itself obligatory or prohibited (or ranging in between the two, such as recommended or discouraged), but due to the overall context resulting in greater harm or benefit, the ruling changes. A simple example cited by jurists relates to the Prophet ﷺ refraining from razing the Kaʿbah and reconstructing as it was originally built by Prophet Ibrāhīm due to the potential negative impact it could have on the faith of his new followers.[115] To the extent that the relevant elements of the fact matrix change (due to time and place), the legal response will also change. Different canonical schools of law deployed various tools to achieve such considerations; for instance, the concept of istiḥṣān (juristic preference).[116] Iyās ibn Muʿāwiyah (d. 122 AH) stated, “Implement qiyās in judgment so far as it is beneficial to the people but when it leads to harmful consequences, then use juristic preference.”[117]

    Islam needs no revision or modification since the divine instructions carry within them the very principles to ascertain and accommodate changing social circumstances. Social customs (ʿurf) can affect the implementation of subsidiary social rulings under particular circumstances.[118] These are matters that must be assessed by scholars of the highest caliber with erudite knowledge of the Islamic tradition in addition to an intimate familiarity with the social customs in question. Muftī Taqi Uthmani describes numerous scenarios in his work Uṣūl al-Iftāʾ.[119] For instance, trade transactions used to be based on the volume of dates, barley, or wheat[120] before becoming based on weight.[121] Today, transactions have gone from paper money to electronic transactions, clicking a button, or tapping a plastic card. Some matters were prohibited based on an analogy with something explicitly prohibited—like paying to enter a bathhouse due to uncertainty (gharar) with respect to the commodity/service one is purchasing; however, the societal prevalence removed that degree of uncertainty. He also mentions the scenario of a ruling being established on the basis of a previously common situation that no longer exists. In this regard, an example would be those jurists who permitted the payment of zakāt al-fiṭr using money instead of wheat or barley grain when needed.[122]

    Continuity with the tradition versus conformity of opinions

    From the foregoing discussion it should be evident that Islamic law is not stagnant by any means, but rather the orthodox methodology elaborated by Muslim jurists throughout the Sunni tradition does account for changing of circumstances in those matters in which change is relevant. No individual scholar is beyond error or fallibility—as Mujāhid said, “Every individual will have some views accepted and some rejected except for the Prophet.”[123] However, the collective understanding of thousands of scholars, generation after generation, about the central tenets of the faith is of paramount authority. Each generation of scholars elaborated upon and built upon the contributions of the scholars who came before them. What we seek, therefore, is not conformity with the views of individual scholars, but continuity with the tradition as a whole, using the same methodology to add to the intellectual edifice established by our righteous predecessors.

    With the above in mind, it is important to recognize what it actually means to uphold the tradition. Attempting to import verdicts issued by scholars centuries ago on a social or political matter without any consideration for the applicability of the ʿillah in modern times is actually a betrayal to those scholars and a disservice to the tradition. Similarly, to cling to an opinion rendered on the basis of medieval assumptions about the natural sciences derived from Hellenistic philosophy[124] —assumptions that have since been falsified by empirical sciences—would also be a grave disservice to the tradition and a type of ‘faux traditionalism.’ Rather than a stagnant ossified collection of historical opinions, true traditionalism involves a dynamic methodology that accounts for the emergence of new circumstances. The advocates of a newfangled ‘progressive Islam’ who wish to discard the tradition altogether tend to exploit the rigidity of faux traditionalism to demonstrate that it is backward and incapable of accommodating the realities of modern society. Shaykh Amjad Mohammed argues that an understanding of true dynamic traditionalism circumvents fallacious attempts to reinvent Islam on the edifice of Western liberalism:

    For the modernists to warrant the move from traditionalism to liberal rationalism which ‘must furnish a solution to the problems which had previously proved intractable’ due to the sterility or incoherence of the traditional model, an epistemological crisis has to exist within the Islamic tradition. … We argue that those who advocate this view have no legitimate reason to turn towards another approach as they tend not to be traditionally trained scholars and are therefore not versed in the dynamic nature of the traditional approach nor are they in a position to advocate a completely different model as the current traditional model has not been thoroughly investigated.[125]

    He further writes:

    Our position is that Islam—or more accurately its sources—is considered to be a tradition and more specifically a discursive tradition, which must apply its historically tried and tested principles and methodologies in order to ascertain God’s will. The view that liberal rationalism is required as an interpretative model instead of traditionalism, because the latter is not suited to the modern world, is flawed in at least three ways: firstly, liberal rationalism is in itself a tradition; it cannot claim neutrality and it cannot be given exceptional status but must be regarded as a tradition amongst traditions. Secondly, traditions are incommensurable which means that the premises and views within liberalism cannot be applied to religious traditionalism and neither can it claim unbiased accuracy and exclusive truthfulness. Thirdly, incommensurability does not permit modernist scholars the legal or philosophical position of assuming and declaring an epistemological crisis within traditionalism as they are not traditionally trained and only know the model superficially.[126]

    The answers for the modern Muslim community lie in recourse to true traditionalism, understanding that a commitment to the tradition is a commitment to the methodology (uṣūl) of the tradition. In other words, someone who disagrees with you by following the correct methodology is far closer to you than someone who agrees with your opinion but follows an incorrect methodology. There is a world of difference between someone saying “X is halal because the strongest interpretation of the authentic hadith is Y” versus someone saying “X is halal because I don’t accept hadith and I reject the Sunnah as a source of religious guidance.”[127] An opinion arrived at by a trustworthy scholar utilizing the established principles of uṣūl al-fiqh based on a plausible interpretation of scripture is a sound conclusion regardless of who likes or dislikes it. All too often social media pundits lacking any familiarity in uṣūl al-fiqh jump to the conclusion of a fatwá, article, or dissertation to see if the answer espouses something that sounds “liberal” or “conservative” without any regard to the authority of the methodology employed. This is tantamount to disregarding the entire jurisprudential methodology outlined by scholars in uṣūl al-fiqh and using in its stead secular culturally-conditioned labels as sieves to filter valid from invalid opinions.

    Upholding traditionalism: Between old and new opinions

    A commitment to the tradition protects against using fabricated ideologies as the basis for validating opinions. When scholars who lived centuries ago scrutinized the scripture to arrive at the exact same conclusions as we do today, we can be more confident that we are not being led to our conclusions on the basis of cultural biases or modern ideological influences. We should be extremely cautious about veering beyond the scope of opinions that have been passed down in the tradition. It is worth remembering that Muslims are not unique in their regard for juristic tradition; in fact, it forms the very basis of the common law system in the West. Speaking on the shared features of the legal tradition of Western common law and the legal tradition of premodern Islamic jurisprudence, Anver Emon writes:

    While the legal traditions may be separated by centuries, the issues that compel jurisprudential analysis and speculation are nonetheless similar, if not entirely shared… While some have characterized taqlid as blind adherence to the law, Wael Hallaq has convincingly argued that taqlid is elemental to establishing a sense of objective, authoritative rules to which one can resort—akin to the role of stare decisis in common law.[128]

    Emphasis on adherence to tradition is a sentiment that has been emphasized within all canonical schools of law in Sunni Islam and across theological views. Abū al-Ḥasan al-Ashʿarī (d. 324 AH) states, “And [the scholars] agreed on the impermissibility of departing from the collective opinions of the salaf, including those matters on which they agreed as well as those matters on which they differed in their interpretation, since even in the latter the truth will not be found outside of their statements.”[129] For instance, if the early scholars differed over whether ghusl (ritual bathing) on Friday is recommended or obligatory, it meant they were agreed that it is not anything besides these two options (such as it being mubāḥ; i.e., merely permissible).

    Similarly, Ibn Taymīyah (d. 728 AH) stated, “Every religious opinion from someone later that no one ever arrived at before is considered an error. As Imām Aḥmad said, ‘Beware of speaking on a matter with something that lacks precedent.’”[130] However, this does not mean that he believed one has to agree with the majority of the scholars on every issue, as Ibn Taymīyah himself sometimes challenged prevailing jurisprudential views, such as the definition of traveling and the famous issue of triple divorce. Moreover, one may derive and articulate new conceptualizations as Ibn Taymīyah did in theology with the perpetual creativity of God,[131] and as scholars from al-Juwaynī to al-Shāṭibī did with maqāṣid al-sharīʿah.  Similarly, in contemporary times, Muslims may develop sophisticated means of articulating Qur’anic epistemology, spiritual psychology, Islamic philosophy of science, Islamic critiques of secular humanism and atheism, and so forth—all of which involve developing concepts and terminologies that were not stated previously. Furthermore, Ibn al-Qayyim adds another important qualification to Imām Aḥmad’s statements that excludes rulings on novel issues, “It’s important to know that the opinion that is rejected because it lacks a precedent is one pertaining to an issue that emerged during the early generations which they passed their verdicts on, and then someone comes later and invents a new opinion.”[132]

    This leads to important questions regarding to what extent and under what circumstances is it possible to derive novel religious opinions that have not been previously espoused. While the foregoing discussion has focused predominantly on practical rulings (aḥkām), there is also considerable discussion on how to interpret descriptive texts (akhbār), often discussed in the realm of uṣūl al-tafsīr (hermeneutics). Below are six scenarios and examples that elucidate the answer to this question—of the items below, (1), (2), and (3) apply to aḥkām, (4) applies to akhbār, and (5) applies to both.

    1. Fiqh al-Nawāzil (contemporary jurisprudential issues)—in matters that are entirely new, it is to be expected that the discussion will go beyond the points mentioned by historical scholars. This includes contemporary discussions over the fiqh of organ transplantation, modern financial transactions, performing prayers and fasting in northern latitudes during times of continuous day or night, etc. On contemporary matters, scholars have stressed the importance of collective ijtihād by committees of jurists where multiple experts come together to analyze and discuss a matter before providing a ruling; these committees are less prone to error or bias when compared to a single jurist.[133] Examples include the International Islamic Fiqh Academy of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation,[134] the Islamic Fiqh Council of the Muslim World League,[135] the European Council for Fatwa and Research,[136] the Assembly of Muslim Jurists of America,[137] among many other national organizations.
    2. Issues that were previously not a matter of public concern (ʿumūm al-balwá) and therefore did not warrant the same degree of sophisticated research and analysis. Modern-day pressures may push us to do taḥqīq (verification) of an unsubstantiated opinion that was previously taken for granted and reassess the validity of a view based on the Qur’an and Sunnah. Examples of this include the usage of illustrations in children’s books and cartoons,[138]participation in interfaith community events, exchanging greetings related to non-Muslim festivities,[139] and appropriate norms of conduct for gender interaction in the workplace.
    3. When the modern-day societal changes (including socio-political or economic circumstances) render an ʿillah absent that was previously present, then the ruling predicated upon that ʿillah no longer obtains. This includes previously mentioned examples.
    4. In theological or eschatological subsidiary[140] questions on which the scriptural texts (nuṣūs) are silent, and there are multiple plausible scenarios (iḥtimālāt) some of which were posed by earlier scholars, there is nothing to preclude listing other plausible scenarios (iḥtimālāt) so long as one does not definitely declare (jazm) the veracity of one over the others in matters of the unseen (ghayb) without a scriptural proof.[141] Examples include, for instance, the scholars listing many different plausible interpretations for how the Euphrates and Nile have been described as originating in Paradise, ranging from metaphorical description of their blessings, to a hidden metaphysical connection, etc.[142] Another example is Ibn Taymīyah’s discussion on the accountability of the boy killed by Khiḍr, considering possibilities of whether he had reached the age of maturity or was legally accountable as a discerning youth in the moral code of his people.[143]
    5. Where incontrovertible empirical evidence can serve as a means to invalidate certain historical positions or lend greater credibility to other interpretations, then it can be used as a deciding factor (murajjiḥ). This includes scenarios in which empirical evidence accumulates demonstrating the benefit or harm of a particular matter that impacts the ruling. Examples include the change in ruling on the impermissibility of smoking and the permissibility of caffeine.[144] Examples affecting interpretation of beliefs may include viewing the flood of Prophet Noah as regional rather than global, or the interpretation of the hadith on the height of humankind relative to Prophet Ādam,[145] or preferring 40 days over 120 days as the time at which the three Qurʾanic phases of embryological development (nuṭfah,ʿalaqah,  muḍghah) are complete.[146]
    6. In those non-doctrinal matters where the accumulation of novel data is relevant, conclusions will necessarily evolve. For instance, manuscript evidence impacts conclusions regarding Qur’anic orthography (ʿilm rasm al-muṣḥaf),[147] and synthesis of reports impacts historical and biographical matters, and thus scholars have historically derived and entertained novel conclusions in these areas.

    A complete discussion of all the possible contemporary cases that could fall under these scenarios is clearly beyond the scope of this article. However, it is hoped that the reader has been introduced to the considerable intellectual work of contemporary scholars in building upon the existing tradition, and the need to distinguish the immutable fundamentals from the mutable subsidiary aspects. The words of Sh. Muṣṭafá al-Zarqāʾ are an effective summary in this regard:

    The statements of the jurists of all schools agree that the [only] rulings amenable to change with the changing of epochs and peoples’ ethics are those that are interpretive (ijtihādi) in nature, whether they are rooted in analogical reasoning or based on maṣlaḥah.

    As for the fundamental rulings that the Sharīʿah came to establish and cement in its scriptural commands and prohibitions, such as clearly forbidden matters, or the obligation of mutual consent in contracts and the duty to uphold contracts, […] the duty to prevent harm and oppose crime, blocking the path to corruption, protecting acquired rights, […] these rulings do not change with the changing of epochs. To the contrary, these are the foundations with which the Sharīʿah came to rectify every age and generation. However, the means by which these principles are applied may vary with the coming of new times.[148]

    Conclusion

    A beautiful saying is attributed to the illustrious companion ʿAbd Allah ibn Masʿūd: “Knowledge is not abundant narrations but rather it is a light that God casts into the heart.”[149] The quest to learn and understand is fundamentally a spiritual endeavor in Islam, and it constitutes necessary steps along the path towards God. While there are certain matters in any field of knowledge that fall within the expertise of scholars, the basic message of Islam is comprehensible to every human being in every time and every place. The purpose of life in Islam is to come closer to God and care for His creation; it is to strive to one’s utmost to achieve virtue in one’s worship of God and in one’s good deeds towards humanity. As the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ said, “Be mindful of God wherever you are; follow a misdeed with a righteous deed and it will erase it; and treat people with the best moral character.”[150]

    This introductory article has outlined a basic framework for how to think about differences of opinion. The point of this article is not to resolve specific points of contemporary contention or controversy; rather, it redirects our attention to the primacy of methodological principles which, if properly understood and internalized, will be far more valuable in attaining guidance. In an age of confusion, it becomes even more critical to equip oneself with a solid understanding of the core foundations of one’s faith. Only with proper understanding can one avoid being swept aside by misguided notions that lack any sound academic basis in the Qur’anic revelation and the original teachings of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ. For indeed, he left his followers upon the shining bright path whose night is like its day: the Prophetic path of guidance from which deviation entails perdition.[151]

    And Allah knows best.

    Appendix I – Major Figures in the Islamic Tradition

    Table 1 – Frequently cited authorities and pioneering scholars in the Islamic tradition

    Difference_Of_Opinion_Tables-01

    Table 2 – Frequently cited jurists and legal theorists affiliated with one of the four major schools of law

    Difference_Of_Opinion_Tables-02

    Most authoritative works for relied upon (muʿtamad) positions: Ḥanafī: Ibn ʿĀbidīn (Radd al-Muḥtār); Shāfiʿī: al-Nawawī (al-Majmūʿ) + al-Rāfiʿī (Fatḥ al-ʿazīz); Mālikī: Khalīl (Mukhtaṣar al-Khalīl); Ḥanbalī: al-Mardāwī (al-Tanqīḥ) + Ibn al-Najjār (Muntahá al-Irādāt) + al-Hajjāwī (al-Iqnāʿ)

    Appendix II – Framework for Evaluating Opinions

    Difference_of_Opinion_Paper_Diagrams_4-01

    Notes

    [1] This article does not delve into, nor attempt to adjudicate, contemporary or classical competing claims to Sunni orthodoxy between different theological approaches (e.g., kalām versus anti-kalām), spiritual approaches (e.g., sufism versus anti-sufism), or jurisprudential approaches (e.g., madhhabism versus non-madhhabism). 

    [2] Some material in this section has been previously posted by the author on spiritualperception.org, and is presented here in an adapted and modified form with greater detail.

    [3] Many Muslims are unaware that the Sunnah is divinely revealed guidance (Qurʾan 53:3). See also ‘Sunnah as revelation’ in Hamdeh, Emad, Are Hadith Necessary? Yaqeen Institute, https://yaqeeninstitute.org/emadhamdeh/are-hadith-necessary/

    [4] Not only is intentionalism the most sensible way of viewing human communication (Martin Montminy, Context and communication: a defense of intentionalism, Journal of Pragmatics, 42 (2010): 2910-18), but it is the only theologically coherent way of viewing revelation—as a message that God sent to humanity intended to serve as guidance. After all, the very first description the Qurʾan provides of itself is “a guidance to those with taqwá (God-consciousness)” (Qurʾan 2:2).

    [5] In this context, post-modernism refers to the philosophical movement that has created an epistemology that countenances no such thing as objective truth, drawing upon Immanuel Kant’s critique of reason, Hegel’s phenomenological prioritization of the subject, Jacques Derrida’s deconstructionist shift from authorial intent, and Foucault’s description of historical meta-narratives.

    [6] Although a critical analysis of progressivism is beyond the scope of this article, such methodologies suffer from arbitrary judgments about the constitutive elements of the allegedly universal (though inevitably westernized) moral philosophy, hermeneutical indeterminacy whereby any conceivable concocted reinterpretation can be justified, and finally, a failure to find any theological or rational justification as to why it should be taken as more authoritative than the traditional faith of fourteen centuries of scholarship upheld by 1.8 billion Muslims who revere God’s revelation and His Prophet ﷺ.

    [7] In his work Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn ʿan Rabb al-ʿĀlamīn, Ibn al-Qayyim uses the exegesis of several verses from the Qur’an to establish the need to follow the companions, including that God praises those who follow them for guidance (9:100); He commands following those who are guided (36:21) and affirms this for the companions (3:103; 47:5-6, 16-17, 29:69; 42:13); the Prophet ﷺ and those who follow him are upon basīrah (spiritual perception) in their call to God (12:108) and answering the callers is required (46:31); they are those chosen by God (27:51, 35:32, 22:78) and possessors of knowledge (58:11) and virtue (3:110) and certitude and patience (32:24), the balanced nation (2:143), and the truthful whom we must join (9:119). See Ibn al-Qayyim, ed. Mashūr Ḥasan Āl Salmān, Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn, Dammam: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi 2002, vol. 5, pp. 556-74.

    [8] The usage of the term became commonplace in the early community for the majority to self-identify in contradistinction to other early groups and identify accurate sources of knowledge (See Introduction to Saḥīḥ Muslim 27, online). The attribution of this term to the Prophet’s companion Ibn Abbas is not authentic (see editor’s annotation in Ibn al-Qayyim, Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn, vol. 2, p. 475).

    [9] In Saḥīḥ Bukhārī, the preeminent canonical work of Hadith for Sunni Muslims, Imam al-Bukhārī (d. 256 AH) titled one of his chapters, “Chapter concerning God’s saying ‘And thus have we made you a balanced nation’ and what the Prophet commanded with respect to adhering to the mainstream community (al-jama’ah), and they are the people of knowledge.” Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 7311Kitāb al-Iʿtisām bil-Kitāb wal-Sunnahonline. The extension to include those who follow the scholarly community can be seen as a logical consequence. Abu Isḥāq al-Shāṭibī (d. 790 AH) writes, “Concerning this view, the jamāʿah includes the mujtahids and scholars of the ummah along with the people of the Shari’ah (religious law) acting upon it, and those besides them who follow them are included in it as well.” al-Shāṭibī, al-Iʿtisām, Maktabah al-Tawheed, vol. 3, p. 302.

    [10] Sunan Ibn Mājah 3950, online. Although the chain of transmission for this narration is weak, the meaning has been upheld as authentic within the Muslim tradition due to supporting evidence. As for the statement of Ibn Mas’ūd “The Jamāʿah is what agrees with the truth, even if you are alone” (al-Lālikāʿī, Sharh Uṣūl Iʿtiqād Ahl al-Sunnah wal-Jamāʿah, no. 160), it is best understood by a similar statement from Nuʿaym ibn Ḥammād, “If the Jamāʿah becomes corrupt, then follow what the Jamāʿah was upon before it was corrupt even if you are alone” (See Ibn al-Qayyim, Ighāthah al-Lahfān, Mecca: Dar Alam al-Fawa’id 2011, p. 115). This maintains the authority of the mainstream understanding of the Islamic tradition.

    [11] See footnote 77 below on the discussion of competing claims about who does and does not belong to mainstream Sunnism. A commitment to the Sunnah entails agreed-upon sources (such as the corpus of authentic hadith encompassed by six works: BukhārīMuslimAbū Dāwūdal-Tirmidhīal-NasāʾiIbn Mājah in addition to those found in ancillary collections), a recognition of the significance of four famous schools of jurisprudence (Ḥanafī, Shafiʿī, Mālikī, Ḥanbalī), a reliance on transmission from the early Muslim community in Qur’anic exegesis (as in the tafsīr works of Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, al-Baghawī, al-Qurṭubī, and Ibn Kathīr), as well as certain universally recognized creedal statements (e.g., ʿAqīdah al-Ṭaḥāwīyah with certain nuances). That which is subject to debate is beyond the scope of this introductory article.

    [12] al-Shāṭibī, al-Muwāfaqat, vol. 5, p. 131.

    [13] The Arabic phrase used here, maʿlūm min al-dīn bi-ḍarūrah (i.e., those things that are known by necessity to be a part of the religion of Islam) is mentioned ubiquitously by Muslim scholars and includes matters such as the core beliefs (belief in God, the Angels, the Books, the Messengers, the Day of Judgment, Paradise and Hell, Divine decree), well-known major sins (like the fact that alcohol and adultery are forbidden), widely-known practices (like the fact that fasting and prayer are obligations), and so on.

    [14] Zuḥaylī, Taghayyur al-Ijtihād, Dar al-Maktabi Damascus: 2000, p. 17. It is common to find classical jurists of each school mentioning this point. For instance, the Ḥanafi jurist Ibn Nujaym (d. 970 AH) writes, “The ruling based on ijtihād is determined by the most probable interpretation while acknowledging the possibility of error. Therefore, ijtihād does not apply in qati’yyat and in that which requires certain faith from the core tenets of the religion (uṣūl al-dīn)” (Ibn Nujaym, Fat al-Ghaffār, Beirut DKI 2001, p. 391).

    [15] An oft-repeated though somewhat inaccurate statement is that difference of opinion is tolerated in matters of fiqh and not in matters of ʿaqīdah. What should be said is that difference of opinion is tolerated in subsidiary issues and dhanniyat and not in major issues and qaṭʿīyat. There are some subsidiary issues even in ʿaqīdah that the companions differed over; e.g., whether the Prophet ﷺ saw Allah during the ascension, whether wailing over the grave affects the deceased, etc. There are numerous legitimate theological differences that later Muslim scholars discussed and debated concerning every article of faith. These include what is the first thing God created, what is the greatest name (ism al-aʿdham) of God, what is the distinction between a Prophet and a Messenger, how many times will the horn be blown on the day of judgment, can the dead hear, does the ḥawḍ come before or after the ṣirāṭ, etc.

    [16] Al-Haj, Hatem. Managing our disagreements, pp. 15-16. AMJA 12th Annual Conference, March 20th-23rd 2015. https://www.amjaonline.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Fiqh-of-Disagreement-Hatem.pdf

    [17] Ibn Taymīyah, Majmūʿ al-Fatāwá, al-Mansura: Dar al-Wafa’ lil-Taba’a wal-Nashr, 1998, vol. 30, p. 79.

    [18] Ismāʿīl al-ʿAjlūnī (d. 1163 AH), Kashf al-Khafāʾ, Maktabah Ilm al-Hadith, vol. 1, p. 80.

    [19] Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, Jāmiʿ Bayān al-ʿIlm wa Falihī, p. 784, #1467.

    [20] Ibn Abī Khaythamah (d. 279 AH), Tārikh al-Kabīr, Faruq al-Hadithīyah 2004, vol. 1, p. 306.

    [21] See the discussion of the Shafiʿī jurist Badr al-Dīn al-Zarkashī (d. 794 AH) in Bar al-Muḥīṭ, Kuwait: Dar al-Safwah 1992, vol. 6, p. 309, and the Mālikī jurist Aḥmad al-Wansharīsī (d. 914 AH), Kitāb al-Miʿyār, Beirut: Dar al-Gharb al-Islami1981, vol. 10, pp. 78-80.

    [22] See Ibn ʿĀbidīn, Radd al-Mutār, Riyadh: Dar Alam al-Kutub 2003, vol. 9, p. 214.

    [23] Ibn al-Najjār. Shar al-Kawkab al-Munīr, Saudi Ministry of Awqaf 1993, vol. 4, p. 544. Discussed in al-Ashqar, Manhaj al-Iftāʾ ʿinda Ibn al-Qayyim, Amman: Dar al-Nafaes 2004, pp. 146-47.

    [24] al-Māwardī, Akām al-Sulṭānīya, Ed. Nabil ʿAbd al-Rahmān, Beirut: Dar al-Arqam nd, p. 327. Although al-Suyūṭī argued that al-Ḥasan al-Baṣrī did narrate from ʿAlī, the majority of Hadith scholars believed that he did not narrate from him although he did see him before the ʿAlī left Madinah. See al-Suyūṭī, al-Ḥāwī lil-Fatwá, DKI 2000, vol 2, p 96.

    [25] Al-Ṭabarānī, Muʿjam al-Awsa 3:118, authenticated in Saḥīḥ al-Jāmiʿ 2328.

    [26] There are 12 to 15 (depending on categorization) fundamental sciences of the Arabic language. These include grammar (النحو), morphology (الصرف), semantics (المعاني), lexicon (اللغة), derivatives (الاشتقاق), metaphorical speech (البيان), composition (الإنشاء), prosody (العروض), rhyme (القافية), writing (الخط), literature (الآداب), phonetics (الأصوات), etc.

    [27] This entails a deep familiarity not only with the hadith corpus (which includes the six canonical works: Saḥīḥ Bukhārī, Saḥīḥ Muslim, Sunan Abī Dāwūd, Sunan al-Nasāʾī, Jāmiʿ al-Tirmidhī, Sunan Ibn Mājah, as well as major ancillary works including Musnad Amad, Sunan al-Dāraqunī, Sunan al-Dārimī, Sunan al-Bayaqī, Saḥīḥ Ibn Khuzaymah, Saḥīḥ Ibn ibbān, Mustadrak al-Ḥākim, Musnad al-Bazzār, etc) but also a sound knowledge of the principles of evaluation and classification of Hadith (muṣṭala al-adīth).

    [28] Essential fields of study related to the Qur’an include exegesis (tafsīr) and principles of exegesis (uṣūl al-tafsīr), abrogation (naskh), reasons for revelation (asbāb al-nuzūl), correct pronunciation in recitation (ʿilm al-tajwīd), history of preservation; more specialized study includes alternate canonical readings (qiraʾāt), variant readings (shādh qiraʾāt), linguistic eloquence (balāghah), Qur’anic orthography and textual composition (ʿilm rasm al-muṣḥaf), and so on.

    [29] al-Shawkānī, Irshād al-Fuḥūl ilā ʿIlm al-Uṣūl, Riyadh: Dar al-Fadeelah 2000, vol. 2, pp. 1102-05.

    [30] al-Shāṭibī, al-Muwāfaqat, vol. 5, pp. 43-45. Ibn al-Najjār, Sharḥ al-Kawkab al-Munīr, vol. 4, p. 473. Ibn Taymīyah, Majmuʿ al-Fatāwá, vol. 20, pp. 112-3.

    [31] Al-Dardīrī, Takhrīj Aḥādīth al-Mudawwanah, Doctoral dissertation, Umm al-Qura University, 1983, p. 61. 

    [32] There are many nuances to how consensus is interpreted between the different schools of Islamic law; for instance, refer to Ali, Abdullah bin Hamid. “Scholarly consensus: Ijma‘: between use and misuse,” Journal of Islamic Law and Culture 12, no. 2 (2010): 92-113.

    [33] For an extensive study on the influence of these different epistemic tools on the juristic opinions, refer to the contemporary Syrian scholar Mustafa Dib al-Bugha’s Athar al-Addilah al-Mukhtalaf fihā fil Fiqh al-Islāmī (Damascus: Dar Imam al-Bukhari 1993). Note that the distinction between agreed-upon and differed-upon sources is not a sharp bifurcation as there are differed-upon aspects of the agreed-upon sources (like how to define consensus) and agreed-upon concepts from the disagreed-upon sources (like using different terms to indicate the consideration of public benefit within legal theory). The above presentation is consistent with how this material is typically introduced in basic manuals.

    [34] al-Kalwadhani (d. 510 AH), al-Tamhīd fi Uṣūl al-Fiqh. Makkah: Markaz al-Bahth al-ʿIlmi wa Ihyāʾ at-Turāth al-Islāmī 1985, vol. 3, pp. 280-81.

    [35] Hatem al-Haj. Shari’ah in Today’s World: Renewing Islamic Discourse, Yaqeen Institute. https://yaqeeninstitute.org/hatem-elhaj/shariah-in-todays-world-renewing-islamic-discourse/

    [36] Al-Bayḍāwī, Anwār al-Tanzīl wa Asrār al-Taʾwīl, Beirut: Dar Ihya Turath al-Arabi 2012, vol. 3, p. 10.

    [37] One is not required to delve into nuanced discussions over the correct interpretation of the wording of particular hadith, or the opinion of a particular classical jurist, in order to condemn the actions of ISIS as morally abhorrent. Doing this would be akin to a judge encountering a criminal charged with murder, rape, and theft and choosing to sentence them instead on the basis of a traffic violation. When the actions are so grossly antithetical to the values of Islam, this is self-evident and in need of no further discussion.

    [38] A muḥaddith is a scholar of Hadith while a faqīh is a scholar of jurisprudence.

    [39] Nazir Khan. “Forever on Trial—Islam and the Charge of Violence,” Yaqeen Institute for Islamic Research. https://yaqeeninstitute.org/nazir-khan/forever-on-trial-Islam-and-the-charge-of-violence/

    [40] Sunan Abī Dāwūd 337 online, and Sunan Ibn Mājah online.

    [41] Sunan ibn Mājah 2341, online.

    [42] ʿIzz ibn ʿAbd al-Salām, al-Qawāʿid al-Akām fī Maṣāli al-Anām, Dar al-Qalam, p. 14.

    [43] Op cit, p. 7. al-Izz also mentioned that analysis of harms and benefits in this dunya is by logical necessity (arūrāt), experience (tajārib), custom (ʿādāt), and reasonable considerations (unūn al-muʿtabarāt), p. 13. It is important to recognize, however, that empirical measures do have limitations— the history of the medical community’s perception of alcohol’s perceived harm or benefit has drastically changed from advocating moderate alcohol consumption for alleged health benefits to now recognizing that even moderate consumption is harmful (Millwood, Iona Y et al. “Conventional and genetic evidence on alcohol and vascular disease aetiology: a prospective study of 500 000 men and women in China,” The Lancet, Volume 393, Issue 10183 (2019): 1831-42). Of course, the Qur’an states that the harms of alcohol outweigh its benefits (Qur’an 2:219).

    [44] Al-Būṭī, Muḥammad Saʿīd Ramaḍān. awābi al-Malaah fi al-Sharīʿah al-Islāmīyah, Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risala, 1982, p. 57.

    [45] “Is something good because God commanded it, or did God command it because it was good?” is a question famously posed as Euthyphro’s dilemma (See Islamic theology and Euthyphro’s dilemma in In Pursuit of Conviction II: Humanity Needs God). For an overview of how the various theological perspectives impacted discussions on maslahah, see Johnston, David. “A turn in the epistemology and hermeneutics of twentieth-century uṣūl al-fiqh.” Islamic Law and Society 11, no. 2 (2004): 233-82.

    [46] Ahmad Syukri Shaleh. Ibn Taymīyah’s concept of istisān: An Understanding of legal reasoning in Islamic Jurisprudence. Master’s Dissertation, McGill University 1995, p. 85. He cites the legal maxim, “al-al fi’l-ʿuqūd jamī’uha huwa al-ʿadl” (the basic rule in every contract is justice).

    [47] Ibn al-Qayyim. Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn, Dammam: Dar ibn al-Jawzi 2002, vol. 4, p. 337. This should not be confused with the eccentric view ascribed to Najm al-Dīn al-Ṭūfī (d. 716 AH) that maṣlaḥah can override textual proofs; rather texts subject to interpretation must be understood in consonance with fundamental teachings established by other scriptural texts. See Musṭạfá Zayd, al-Masḷaḥa fī al-Tashrīʿ al-Islāmī, Cairo: Dar al-Fikr al-Arabi 1964, p. 233. It has also been argued that this ascription is a misreading of what al-Ṭūfī was actually suggesting, Yusuf al-Qaradawi, Dirāsah fī Fiqh Maqāṣid al-Sharīʿah, Cairo: Dar al-Shuruq 2006, p. 111.

    [48] Once certain theological or conceptual foundations are established in Islam, they are employed to interpret various individual texts. For instance, God’s perfection, omniscience, and omnipotence are established concepts that are used to understand individual verses and hadith in a manner consistent with those theological foundations. For instance, Qur’an 29:3 cannot be interpreted in a way that compromises God’s foreknowledge; see Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, Tafsīr al-Ṭabarī, Dar Hijr 2001, vol. 18, p. 357. Similarly, the Islamic value system is deployed in juristic reasoning via legal maxims (qawāʾid fiqhiyyah) and objectives of Islamic law (maqāṣid al-sharīʿah).

    [49] Salmān al-ʿAwdah, Kayfa nakhtalif, Riyadh: Mu’assasah Islam al-Yawm lil-Nashr 1433, pp. 85-86.

    [50] Ibid., p. 87.

    [51] The order presented here is that of al-ʿAwnī, Ḥātim Sharīf. Ikhtilāf al-Muftiyīn, Riyadh: Dar al-Somaie 2008, pp. 46-47. See also Abdul-Majid Susuh al-Sharafi, al-Ijtihād al-Jimāʿī fī tashrīʿ al-Islāmī. Ri’asah al-Mahakim al-Shar’īyah al-Qatarīyah, Qatar 1997, pp. 63-70.

    [52] al-Shāṭibī, al-Muwāfaqat, Dar Ibn Affan, vol. 5, p. 210.

    [53] Of the famous proofs is that the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ considered the absence of birth defects in Romans and Persians who practiced intercourse during breastfeeding (Sunan Abi Dawud 3882, online). Refer also to Jaʿfar Sheikh Idris, Haqāʾiq ʿUlūm al-Tajribīyah…Haqāʾiq Shar`īyah, November 12, 2012. Majallah al-Bayan no. 149. Available online. The author cites the aforementioned hadith after his comment, “There is a hadith which demonstrates the Prophet utilized as evidence empirical matters (haqāʾiq al-wāqiʿīyah) in ascertaining religious rulings (al-masāʾil al-sharʿīyah).”

    [54] Ibn Ḥazm, al-Muallá, DKI Beirut 2003, vol. 10, pp. 132-33.

    [55] Mustafa bin Shamsuddin. Athar al-Zamān fī Ijtihād al-Uṣūlī, International Islamic University of Malaysia, p. 11.

    [56] Khan, N. & Qadhi, Y. Human origins: theological conclusions and empirical limitations. Yaqeen Institute. https://yaqeeninstitute.org/nazir-khan/human-origins-theological-conclusions-and-empirical-limitations/

    [57] Jackson, Sherman. On the Boundaries of Theological Tolerance in Islam: Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī‘s Fayṣal al-Tafriqah bayna al-Islām wa al-Zandaqah. Oxford University Press 2002, p. 6.

    [58] Al-Nawawi writes, “This is the case for those who deny anything from that which the Ummah has agreed upon from the knowledge of the religion when such knowledge is widely disseminated, like the five prayers, the fast of Ramadan, ghusl for janābah, the prohibition of zinā and alcohol and marriage of relatives, and similar rulings, except if someone is new to Islam,” Saḥīḥ Muslim bi-Sharḥ al-Nawawī, Bayt al-Afkar al-Dawlīyah, p. 100. See also Ibn Taymīyah, Majmūʿ al-Fatāwá, al-Mansura: Dar al-Wafa’ lil-Taba’a wal-Nashr, 1998, vol. 35, p. 101.

    [59] Ibn Taymīyah, Majmūʿ al-Fatāwá, al-Mansura: Dar al-Wafa’ lil-Taba’a wal-Nashr, 1998, vol. 5, p. 306. Furthermore, Ibn Taymiyyah explained that if someone errs in the arcane philosophical debates in Islamic theology (e.g., the createdness of the actions of servants), this cannot nullify their faith and thus he ardently opposed recklessly excommunicating others from Ahl al-Qiblah (those who face Makkah in prayers; i.e., the general Muslim populace). See Muhammad ʿUmmārah, Rafʿ al-Malām ʿan Shaykh al-Islām, pp. 22-24.

    [60] For the interpretation and analysis of Ibn Taymīyah’s pertinent statements on this topic within the writings of the Najdi Salafi movement, refer to Abu Ala al-Rashid, awābi al-Takfīr al-Muʿayyan ʿinda Shaykhay Ibn Taymīyah wa ibn ʿAbd al-Wahāb wa ʿUlamāʾ al-Daʿwah al-Ilāḥīyah. Maktabah al-Rushd 2004, pp. 59-69. For a similar distinction regarding the excusability of misinterpretation in matters that are not known by necessity to be from the religion, refer to Anwar Shāh Kashmīrī (d. 1352 AH), Ikfār al-Mulḥidīn fi Ḍarūrīyāt al-Dīn, Beirut: Dar al-Basha’ir al-Islamiyyah, nd, pp. 118-19. A more detailed comparison of the various approaches to this subject is beyond the scope of this introductory article.

    [61] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 6103, online. There are many interpretations of the precise meaning of this hadith, including inter alia whether the sin of the unjustified takfīr returns to the person, or the accusation of takfīr since he has accused someone sound in faith like himself, or whether it is simply mentioned in this way as a deterrent. See al-Kandhalawi, Awjaz al-Masālik ilā Muwaṭṭa Mālik, Damascus: Dar al-Qalam, vol. 17, pp. 448-50.

    [62] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 5952, online.

    [63] Al-Dhahabī (d. 748 AH), Siyar Aʿlām al-Nubalāʾ, Beirut: Bayt al-Afkar al-Dawliyah 2004, vol. 2, p. 2936. The Khawārij were a heterodox sect and one of the earliest splinter factions in the history of the ummah. They arose in opposition to the reconciliation attempts between ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib and Muʿāwiyah ibn Abī Sufyān, and they viewed the perpetrator of a sin to be a disbeliever.

    [64] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 7534, online.

    [65] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 6864, online.

    [66] Al-Dhahabi, Siyar, pp. 2216, 2638.

    [67] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 5048, online.

    [68] Al-Dhahabi, Siyar, p. 2151. The Murjiʾah are a heterodox sect that viewed faith to be independent and invariant of one’s deeds such that they believed sins do not diminish one’s faith at all.

    [69] This position has been explained by the early hadith scholar Abū Isḥāq al-Jūzajānī (d. 259 AH) in Aḥwāl al-Rijāl, (Beirut: Dar Mu’assasat al-Risalah nd), p. 32. For a full discussion of this topic and the various views, refer to Serdar Demirel, ʿUlūm al-Ḥadīth bayna Ahl al-Sunnah wal-Jamāʿah wa Shīʿah al-Imamīyah al-Ithna ‘asharīyah. IIUM Press, 2009, pp. 172-73.

    [70] There is certainly another early trend that arose against “associating with the people of innovation (bidʿah)”; however, this was in a particular context where boycotting certain fringe groups actually helped to reduce the prevalence of that innovation.

    [71] The Muʿtazilah were one of the groups of kalām (philosophical theology) who used Hellenistic philosophy to establish the doctrines of faith and called themselves Ahl al-Tawheed wa’l-Adl (people of monotheism and justice), the former label referring to their rejection of any attributes for God and the latter to their rejection of divine predestination. The attitude of their various subgroups towards the Sunnah is discussed in Mustafa al-Siba’ee, The Sunnah and its Role in Islamic Legislation, IIPH 2008, p. 191.

    [72] The historian Ibn Khaldūn (d. 807 AH) lists these as the foundational uṣūl al-fiqh works for arīqat al-mutakalimūn (jurisprudence derived from theory) alongside Al-Juwaynī’s Burhān, Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī’s al-Mustafá. These works were then drawn upon by al-Rāzī and al-Āmidī in their key works on the subject. As for ṭarīqat al-fuqahāʾ (Ḥanafi method of theory derived from jurisprudence), he lists Abu Zayd al-Dabūsī’s Taqwīm al-Adillah as the best of the early works; Ibn Khaldūn, Muqaddimat Ibn Khaldūn, Dar Yarub, vol. 2, pp. 201-2. His characterization of a neat dichotomy between the two methods is, of course, somewhat of an oversimplification; see Correa, Dale J. Taking a Theological Turn in Legal Theory. In Locating the sharīʿa: legal fluidity in theory, history and practice, Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2019, p. 125.

    [73] Al-Jaṣṣāṣ was clearly influenced by the Muʿtazilah; however, he also demonstrates some characteristics that aligned more with a traditionist disposition and this reiterates the complex theological picture in early Islamic history. See Bedir, Murteza. The Early Development of Hanafi Usul al-Fiqh, p. 25.

    [74] Al-Dhahabī says about him, “He was of the oceans of knowledge (buḥūr al-ʿilm).” Al-Dhahabi, Siyaronline.

    [75] Hansu, Huseyin. “Notes on the Term Mutawatir and its Reception in Hadith Criticism.” Islamic Law and Society 16 (2009): 383-408. The term comes from the Muʿtazilī philosophical emphasis on developing an epistemological framework for certain knowledge.

    [76] First used by Abū ʿUthmān al-Jāḥiẓ (d. 255 AH) and Muḥammad ibn Yazīd al-Wāsiṭī (d. 306 AH), and later on adopted as a term by Sunni scholars to refer to the miraculous nature of the Qur’an. See Mustafa Dib al-Bugha and Muhyi al-Din Dib Mastu. al-Wādi fī ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, Damascus: Dar al-’Ulum al-Insaniyyah, 1998, p. 177.

    [77] Of course, who is and who is not part of the Sunni tradition is another major point of considerable discussion and well beyond the scope of this article. From the Ashʿarī and Māturīdī schools of kalām, there are those who do not view Salafīsm as valid and vice versa, while both sides ascribe to Sunnism. Meanwhile, some scholars from both sides have adopted more conciliatory stances. Some claim there is not one monolithic Sunni theological tradition but rather multiple theological traditions that claim to represent Sunni orthodoxy. There is a long history of polemical exchanges between these groups that continues until today. However, what remains inarguable is that the tradition that has been inherited (including the major works within the four schools of jurisprudence) contains the combined contribution of all these groups. Heterogeneous as the Sunni tradition might be, there are collectively held areas of agreement on all the fundamental doctrines (e.g.,ʿaqīdah al-taḥāwīyah with certain nuances) and practices which represent the mainstream of Sunnism.

    [78] Jāmiʿ al-Tirmidhī 2687, online. There are many other verses, aḥadīth, and incidents in the seerah used to establish this concept.

    [79] When it is established that a recitation came from the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ, then there is no dispute over its correctness. Of course, during early Islam, there were differing recitations whose status was unclear and were consequently criticized that later were established as canonical and confirmed as sound. For a discussion of instances where the famous early mufassir Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī (d. 310 AH) critiqued certain readings, refer to Abdul-Fattah al-Shalabi, al-Ikhtiyār fī’l-Qiraʾāt. Umm al-Qura University, Mecca 1996.

    [80] Scholars of jurisprudence frequently mention and reject the views of Abū ʿUthmān al-Jāḥiẓ (d. 255 AH) and ʿUbaydullah b. al-Ḥasan al-ʿAnbarī (d. 168 AH) that everyone who performs ijtihād is right even in fundamental matters of theology. Abu’l-Maʿālī al-Juwaynī (d. 478 AH) notes that al-ʿAnbarī may have intended differing over more abstruse matters of theology, with which al-Juwayni still disagrees (al-Juwaynī, al-Burhān, pp. 1316-18). Meanwhile, al-Shāṭibī affirms al-ʿAnbarī as one of the reliable narrators of Hadith (included by Imām Muslim) and suggests he was merely indicating that every view has a conceivable scriptural justification and that he later recanted his views (al-Shāṭibī, al-Iʿtisām, vol. 1, pp. 250-52).

    [81] Even some jurisprudential differences may be considered ikhtilāf al-tanawwuʿ (differences in variety) which express multiple acceptable options (e.g., repeated lines of the call to prayer), while others are ikhtilāf al-taḍād (conflicting differences) and mutually exclusive (e.g., something being ḥalāl or ḥarām).

    [82] See also Pedersen, Nikolaj Jang Lee Linding and Wright, Cory, “Pluralist Theories of Truth,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Winter 2018 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.). Online.

    [83] Refer to al-Manṣūr billāh al-Qāsim (d. 393 AH), a Zaydī Muʿtazilī in his work, Kitāb al-Irshād ilá sabīl al-Rashād, ed. Muḥammad Yahya Salim Azzan, Sana’ah: Dar al-Hikmah al-Yamanīyah 1996, p. 13.

    [84] Al-Ghazālī, al-Musṭaṣfá min ʿIlm al-Uṣūl, ed Hamzah Zuhayr al-Hafidh, Madinah, vol. 4, pp. 50-53. Note that Al-Ghazālī in his other work al-Mankhūl advocates a view that is more similar to the al-Ashbah view explained later. See al-Ghazali, al-Mankhūl. Ed. Muḥammad Ḥasan Hītū. Beirut: Dar al-Fikr 1998, p. 456.

    [85] ʿAlāʾ al-Dīn al-Samarqandī, who wrote his work on uṣūl al-fiqh with the express intention of realigning Ḥanafī uṣūl with Māturīdī theology, as opposed to Muʿtazilī theology, states that the view of Abu Manṣūr al-Māturīdī is that there is only one correct opinion; al-Samarqandī, Mizān al-Uṣūl fī Natāʾij al-ʿUqūl, Doha: Awqaf Ministry 1997, p. 753. See also Aron Zysow’s discussion on Hanafi opposition to infallibilism in Aron Zysow, ‘Mu’tazilism and Maturidism in Hanafi Legal Theory’ in Bernard Weiss (ed), Studies in Islamic Legal Theory, Brill 2002, pp. 242-44.

    [86] Sayf al-Dīn al-Āmidī (d. 631 AH) in al-Ikām fī Uṣūl al-Akām, Riyadh: Dar Sumayʿi, 2003, vol. 4, pp. 221-22.

    [87] Shihāb al-Dīn al-Qarāfī (d. 684 AH) in Nafāʾis al-Uṣūl fī Shar al-Uṣūl, Mecca 1990, vol. 9, pp. 3876-77.

    [88] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 7352, online.

    [89] Al-Zarkashī. Bar al-Muḥīṭ, (Dar al-Safwah 1992) vol. 6, pp. 243-44. Scholars also frequently mention that the only dissenting voices—Bishr al-Marīsī (d. 218 AH) and Abu Bakr al-Aṣamm (d. 240 AH)—held the heterodox view that the scholar with the wrong answer was sinful.

    [90] Al-Nasafī, Kashf al-Asrār, Beirut: DKI 2015, vol. 2, p. 301.

    [91] For more discussion refer to Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr al-Malikī in Jāmiʿ Bayān al-ʿIlm wa Falihī, (Dar ibn al-Jawzi 1994) vol. 2,  p. 885, Ibn Taymīyah in Majmūʿ al-Fatāwa, vol. 20, pp. 19-22, and al-Sighnaqi (d. 714 AH) in al-Kāfī Shar al-Bazdawī (Riyadh 2001), pp. 1837-39.

    [92] Al-Sarakhsī, Uṣūl al-Sarakhsī, Beirut: DKI 1993, vol. 2, p. 14.

    [93] Kamal al-Din ibn Imam al-Kamilīyah (d. 874 AH), Taysīr al-Wuṣūl ilā Minhāj al-Uṣūl min al-Manqūl wal-Maʿqūl, ed. Abdul Fattah Ahmad Qutub al-Dakhmisi. Cairo: Faruq al-Hadithīyah 2002, vol. 6, p. 312.

    [94] al-Qāsim, Al-Manṣūr billāh. Kitāb al-Irshād ilā sabīl al-Rashād, ed. Muḥammad Yahya Salim Azzan, Sana’ah: Dar al-Hikmah al-Yamanīyah 1996, p. 13.

    [95] See also Al-Rāzi’s discussion where he argues that al-Ashbah logically necessitates the same result as the mukhaṭṭiʾah – al-Rāzi, al-Maḥṣūl, vol. 6, p. 62. Also, Abu Yaʿqūb al-Jurjāni al-Ḥanafī (d. 522 AH) in Khazānat al-Akmal fī Furūʿ al-Fiqh al-anafī, Beirut: DKI 2015, vol. 4, p. 123.

    [96] Emon, Anver. “To most likely know the law: Objectivity, authority and interpretation in Islamic law,” Hebraic Political Studies 4, no. 4 (2009): 439.

    [97] al-Shāṭibī, al-Muwāfaqat, Dar Ibn Affan, vol. 2, p. 520.

    [98] For a discussion of fatwá (which is a ruling applied to a particular situation) versus ḥukm (which is the ruling abstracted from scripture itself) and why it is more appropriate to describe change in the former than the latter, refer to ʿAbd al-Ḥakīm al-Ramīlī, Taghayyur al-Fatwá fil-Fiqh al-Islāmī, Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-Ilmiyah 2016, p. 34.

    [99] Muṣṭafá al-Zarqāʾ, al-Madkhal al-Fiqhī al-ʿĀm, Dar al-Qalam 2004, vol. 1, p. 153.

    [100] Ibn Taymīyah, Majmūʿ al-Fatāwá, al-Mansura: Dar al-Wafa’ lil-Taba’a wal-Nashr 1998, vol. 11, pp. 145-47.

    [101] Wael Hallaq, Authority, Continuity, and Change in Islamic Law, Cambridge: Cambridge Univ Press 2001, p. 180.

    [102] ʿAbd al-Ḥakīm al-Ramīlī, Taghayyur al-Fatwá fil-Fiqh al-Islāmī. Zuḥaylī, Taghayyur al-Ijtihād, Damascus: Dar al-Maktabi 2000, p. 31. This terminology is also subject to some discussion, as others argue that, in reality, it is a new fatwá that has been rendered as opposed to changing the old fatwá.

    [103] In the course of his critique of those who elevate the principles of change (taghayyur), facilitation (taysīr), and public benefit (maṣlaḥah) to the level of a new uṣūl al-fiqh methodology altogether, Jamaal Zarabozo writes, “Each one of these principles may have some validity on their own. However, once they are given undue emphasis and raised to be the main approaches of fiqh, rather than simply tools to be used within the superstructure of fiqh, the Shareeah evidences get distorted and the results can be devastating. Within this proposed approach, following fiqhi rukhsahstalfeeq and even invoking shaadh views become commonplace tools of ijtihaad and taiseer.” Zarabozo, Principles of Fatwa-Making, AMJA 15th annual Imams’ conference, p. 57. Available online.

    [104] Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī, al-Maḥṣūl vol. 5, p. 207. Ibn al-Najjār, Shar Kawkab al-Munīr, vol. 4, p. 51.

    [105] Baroh, Umar Nuh. Qāʾidah al-ukm Yadūr Maʿa ʿIllatihi Wujūdan wa ʿAdaman Dirāsah Taʾṣīlīyah Tabīqīyah. Masters dissertation, Al-Madinah International University. nd.

    [106] al-Zarkashī (d. 794 AH). al-Baḥr al-Muḥīṭ fī Uṣūl al-Fiqh. Dar al-Safwah 1992, vol. 5, pp. 262-63.

    [107] Umar F. Moghul, Approximating certainty in ratiocination: How to ascertain the ‘illah (effective cause) in the Islamic legal system and how to determine the ratio decidendi in the Anglo-American common law, 4 Journal of Islamic Law 125 (1999): 5. For a detailed discussion, see also Bernard G. Weiss, The Search for God’s Law: Islamic Jurisprudence in the Writings of Sayf al-Dīn al-Āmidī, Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press 1992, pp. 585-624.

    [108] Shalabī, M. Taʿlīl al-Akām, dissertation, pp. 40-41.

    [109] See discussion in Moghul, Umar F. “Approximating certainty in ratiocination: How to ascertain the ‘illah (effective cause) in the Islamic legal system and how to determine the ratio decidendi in the Anglo-American common law.” 4 Journal of Islamic Law 125 (1999): 44-45.

    [110] Al-Sarakhsī, al-Mabṣūṭ, Beirut Dar al-Ma’rifah 1993, vol. 8, p. 178; al-Zayla’i (d. 743 AH) uses the phrase “la ikhtilāujjah wa burhān” in Zaylaʿī, Tabyīn al-aqāʾiq shar Kanz al-Daqāʾiq. Bulaq: al-Matba’a al-Kubrā al-Amirīya 1896, vol. 43, p. 354.

    [111] See Ahmed al-Dawoody, The Islamic Law of War: Justifications and Regulations. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011, pp. 171-73.

    [112] For an introductory discussion of Malthusian economics, refer to Clark, Gregory. A Farewell to Alms: A Brief Economic History of the World. Princeton University Press, 2007. In a forthcoming work, we explore the constituents of ‘Malthusian fiqh’( i.e., juristic rulings predicated on realities governed by pre-industrial economic constraints).

    [113] Ibn al-Qayyim, Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn, Dammam: Dar ibn al-Jawzi 2002, vol. 4, p. 470.

    [114] al-Shāṭibī, al-Muwāfaqat, Cairo: Dar Ibn Affan 1997, vol. 5, p. 177.

    [115] Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 126, online.

    [116] Kayadibi, Saim. Istihsan – The Doctrine of Juristic Preference in Islamic Law, Kuala Lumpur: Islamic Book Trust 2010, pp. 128-85.

    [117] Muḥammad b Khalaf Wakee’ (d. 306 AH), Akhbar al-Qudat, Cairo: Matbat al-Istiqama 1947, vol. 1, p. 341.

    [118] The Ḥanafī jurist Ibn ʿĀbidīn dedicated a separate work on this subject entitled Nashr al-‘urf fi bina ba’d al-ahkam ‘ala al-‘urf. As well, Ibn Taymīyah has extensive discussions on the topic; see Mishʿal bin Ḥamūd, al-Masāʾil al-Fiqhiyyah al-Mabniyyah ʿala al-ʿUrf ʿinda Shaykh al-Islām Ibn Taymīyah. Doctoral dissertation. Umm al-Qura University, 2011.

    [119] Taqi Uthmani. Uṣūl al-Iftāʾ, pp. 254-64.

    [120] For instance, Sunan al-Nasāʾī 2509, online.

    [121] Wael Hallaq explains:

    If the Prophetic tradition dictated measurement by weight for certain commodities, and by volume for others, it was merely because it was the custom to do so at the time of the Prophet. Had custom been different, it is entirely conceivable that the Prophetic tradition might have permitted the sale of gold by volume, and that of barley by weight. Therefore, Ibn Abidin concludes, “If custom undergoes change, then the legal norm (Hukm) must change too. In taking changing and unprecedented custom into consideration there is no violation of the texts; in fact, if anything, such consideration constitutes adherence to [the imperatives of] the texts.” Hallaq, Authority, continuity, and change in Islamic law, pp. 225-26.

    [122] This is the position of the Ḥanafī school, in addition to many early jurists including Ḥasan al-Baṣrī, Ṭāwūs ibn Kaysān, ʿUmar ibn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, Isḥāq ibn Rāhawayh, Sufyān al-Thawrī, Abū Thawr, al-Awzāʿī, and al-Bukhārī. The opposing view of the Ḥanbalī, Shāfiʿī, and Mālikī jurists did not permit payment in money in lieu of grain, although some jurists from these schools did permit it such as the Mālikī jurist Ibn Ḥabīb, the Shāfiʿī jurist al-Ramlī and from the Ḥanbalīs, Ibn Taymīyyah. See Riḍā ʿAbd al-Majīd al-Mutawallī, Jawāz Ikhrāj al-Qīmah fī Zakāt al-Fiṭr. Majallah al-Azhar. June 2017, pp. 1827-30, online. The Ḥanafīs even stated that money was preferable because it was of greater benefit in alleviating the needs of the poor, and Abu Ja’far al-Tahawi maintained that the Prophet only mentioned barley and wheat because “trade at that time in Madinah was conducted with them” (al-Sarakhsī, al-Mabṣūṭ, vol. 3, pp. 106-7). Similarly, in his treatise on the subject, Aḥmad al-Ghumārī argued that the Prophetic instruction to give in grain was based on what was easiest for the Arabs and Bedouins of that time (al-Ghumārī, Taḥqīq al-ʿAmal fī Ikhrāj Zakāt al-Fiṭr bil-Māl, p. 61).

    [123] Reported from Mujāhid in Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, Jāmiʿ Bayān al-ʿIlm, pp. 925-26. It is often also quoted from Imam Mālik. Note also the clarification that the one whose views are taken into consideration in the first place is the one duly qualified to examine the views of scholars and their evidence.

    [124] For instance, in another paper we have discussed the example of exegetes who drew upon Hippocratic physiology to argue that women are inherently more prone to forgetfulness than men due to the female body containing excessive cold and moisture. Khan et al. Women in Islamic Law – Examining Five Prevalent Myths. Yaqeen Institute.  https://yaqeeninstitute.org/nazir-khan/women-in-Islamic-law-examining-five-prevalent-myths/#ftnt_ref73

    [125] Amjad Mohammed, Muslims in Non-Muslim Lands – a Legal study with applications, p. 33.

    [126] Ibid., pp. 45-46.

    [127] For instance, consider the example of someone who does not believe that every Prophet will have a ḥawḍ (cistern) on the Day of Judgment. If this person arrived at this viewpoint because they followed those scholars who argued that the hadith on this subject (Tirmidhi 2631) is inauthentic, they are entirely within the correct methodology and hold a valid opinion. If on the other hand, they reject hadith wholesale and only accept the Qur’an as a source of legislation, their opinion is invalid, even though it is the very same opinion.

    [128] Anver Emon, pp. 417-19. Stare decisis is the legal principle whereby courts must judge according to precedent based on the historical judgments of previous courts.

    [129] Abū’l-Ḥasan al-Ashʿarī, Risālah ila Ahl al-Thaghar, Madina: Maktabat al-ʿUlūm wal-Ḥikam 1992, p. 174.

    [130] Ibn Taymīyah, Majmūʿ al-Fatāwá, vol. 21, p. 166.

    [131] Hoover, Jon. “Perpetual creativity in the perfection of God: Ibn Taymīya’s hadith commentary on God’s creation of this world,” Journal of Islamic Studies 15, no. 3 (2004): 287-329.

    [132] Ibn al-Qayyim, Badāʾiʿ al-Fawāʾid, Mecca: Dar Alam al-Fawa’id 2008, vol. 3, p. 1271.

    [133] ʿAbd al-Majīd Susuh al-Sharafī, al-Ijtihād al-Jimāʿī fi tashrīʿ al-Islāmī. Ri’asah al-Mahakim al-Shar’īyah al-Qatarīyah, Qatar 1997, p. 115.

    [134] http://www.iifa-aifi.org

    [135] https://ar.themwl.org

    [136] https://www.e-cfr.org/european-council-fatwa-research/

    [137] https://www.amjaonline.org

    [138] For a detailed contemporary dissertation on the subject of ‘image-making,’ refer to Aḥkām at-Taṣwīr fīl-Fiqh al-Islāmī by Muhammad bin Ahmad Wasil, Masters thesis, Riyadh: al-Imam University, 1417 AH.

    [139] Muṣṭafá al-Zarqāʾ. Fatāwá Muṣṭafá al-Zarqāʾ. Damascus: Dar al-Qalam 2010, p. 357.

    [140] There is greater flexibility in the furūʿ than in the uṣūl. Arguing that the aḥābah did not have a good understanding of prophethood or monotheism or the ethical precepts of Islam is not reasonable. On the other hand, how we interpret isolated texts related to a particular eschatological phenomenon by default has always been subject to far more diverse interpretations because the style of prophecies is never as explicit as religious instruction for daily practice but rather is intended to provoke contemplation and spiritual self-rectification (e.g., the phrase “when a slave girl gives birth to her master”).

    [141] The contemporary Qur’anic scholar Sh. Musāʿid al-Ṭayyār lists the following three conditions: 1. The opinion is sound in and of itself, 2. The opinion does not negate the views of the early Muslim community, 3. The opinion is a plausible reading of the scripture. Markaz al-Tafsīr lecture 54:33, October 31, 2019, online. See also Khalid al-Sabt, Qawāʿid al-Tafsīr, Dar Ibn Affan, vol. 1, p. 203.

    [142] See for instance Taqi Uthmani, Takmilah Fat al-Mulhim, Beirut: Dar Ihya Turath al-Arabi 2006, vol. 12, pp. 153-55, and Yusuf al-Qaradawi, Approaching the Sunnah: Comprehension and Controversy. International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT) 2014, pp. 168-69.

    [143] Ibn Taymīyah, Darʾ Taʿāru al-ʿAql wa al-Naql, ed. M. Rashad Salim, Riyadh: al-Imam University 1991, vol. 8, pp. 427-29.

    [144] Grehan, James. “Smoking and “Early Modern” Sociability: The Great Tobacco Debate in the Ottoman Middle East (Seventeenth to Eighteenth Centuries).” The American Historical Review 111, no. 5 (December 2006): 1352–77.

    [145] There is a narration that would appear to suggest that humans have gradually been decreasing in stature from the height of sixty cubits; however, Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī problematizes this interpretation with reference to empirical knowledge and archaeological data saying, “This is problematic on account of the remnants of the ancient nations like the houses of Thamūd for their homes indicate that their stature was not extremely tall” (Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, Riyadh 2001, vol. 6, p. 423). Other scholars restricted it to mean that the excessive height was only in paradise, and since then humankind has been smaller in stature (Taqi Uthmani, Takmilah Fatḥ al-Mulhim, vol. 12, pp. 157-58). Indeed, some narrations specify that Adam’s height in the Heavens was 60 cubits, such as Saḥīḥ Bukhārī 3327, online.

    [146] See Yusuf, Hamza. “When does a human fetus become human?” 2018. Renovatio: The Journal of Zaytuna College 2, no. 1: 61. The author writes, “The argument that ensoulment occurs soon after 40 days ultimately proves far stronger than the traditional majority view that it occurs after 120 days, given what we know of embryogenesis today.” This is based on the meaning of the three Qur’anic words used for phases of embryological development and their correspondence with empirically discernible phases. For a similar discussion, see Demi̇rel, Serdar. 2014. Understanding the Spirit of Time and Interdisciplinary Perspective in the Interpretation of HadIth. FSM İlmî Araştırmalar İnsan ve Toplum Bilimleri Dergisi, p. 126. Also see, Jamaal Zarabozo, Commentary on the Forty Hadith of al-Nawawi, vol. 1, pp. 340-49.

    [147] As an example, the assumption that the spelling of ‘bi-āyātinā’ with a double ‘ي’ was an aberrant spelling found only in some ʿIraqī manuscripts was later corrected by al-Sakhāwī (d. 643 AH); see Ghanim Qadūrī al-Ḥamad, ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān bayn al-Maṣādir wa al-Maṣāḥif, Riyadh: Tafsir Centre for Qur’anic Studies, 2018, pp. 48-49.

    [148] Muṣṭafá al-Zarqāʾ, al-Madkhal al-Fiqhī al-ʿĀm, vol. 2, pp. 941-42.

    [149] Al-Zabīdī, M. Itḥāf al-Sādat al-Muttaqīn bi Shar Iyāʾ ʿUlūm al-Dīn. Dar al-Kutub al-Ilmīyah. vol.1, p. 501.

    [150] Jāmiʿ at-Tirmidhī 1987, online.

    [151] Sunan Ibn Mājah 43, online.

  • Humanity Needs God

    Humanity Needs God

    Zohair Abdul Rahman and Dr. Nazir Khan discuss their new article on having faith and conviction in the existence in Allah.

    Read the full publication.

  • Proving God’s Existence | In Pursuit of Conviction II

    Proving God’s Existence | In Pursuit of Conviction II

    Introduction

    Throughout history, theologians and philosophers have enumerated the many evidences and proofs for God’s existence. In response, atheist philosophers have attempted to critique these arguments and provide their own proofs for non-belief. Departing from this project that relegates God’s existence to an abstract hypothesis requiring philosophical arguments, this treatise explores an alternative epistemology that conceptualizes belief in God as a fundamental human need and ontological necessity.[1]  

    In the previous article, we examined how human beings are guided to God and His revelation first through the primordial spiritual intuition embedded within our nature. But what is the ontological and epistemological framework that makes that belief justified? It is that faith in God serves as the anchorage to any meaningful conception of reality or of our lives. For indeed, the idea that spiritual intuition is what leads us to God can be readily misconstrued to suggest that faith has no firm grounding beyond a subjective feeling. To the more astute reader, however, what should become evident is how faith functions as an ontological necessity—the bedrock of what constitutes meaning.[2]  

    Faith in God is the necessary building block of all that makes up meaningful human experience. Three dimensions of human life are explored: spiritual, intellectual, and moral. Muslim tradition and scholarship have identified these as core aspects of the human experience.[3] The manner in which these dimensions of life are experienced by each and every one of us is through the first-person perspective, which is the subject matter of phenomenology, rather than the third-person perspective which is the artificial manner in which we are often accustomed to deliberate on life. A phenomenological analysis demonstrates humanity’s absolute need for God, regardless of whether they profess belief in Him. This approach enables the reader to appreciate that the justification for God’s existence is firmly rooted in the epistemology of meaning, the phenomenology of our lived experiences, and our dire need of Him, rather than potentially contestable rational proofs. Therefore, believing in God becomes synonymous with the choice to pursue meaning in life using our innate human capacities. Faith in God is intimately connected to the core of our being, and its strength is based on the purity of our spiritual, intellectual, and moral dimensions.

    Human beings are in need

    O humankind, you are those that need Allah with much destitution, while Allah is The Self-Sufficient, the Praiseworthy. (Qur’an 35:15)

    The Qur’an describes dependence on God as a key feature of the human condition. Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751 AH) opens his monumental spiritual work Tareeq al-Hijratayn with the aforementioned verse followed by the declaration that the human being’s need of God is an essential existential reality, and the voluntary recognition of one’s dire need (faqr) of God is the most basic realization at which the human soul must arrive.[4] The phenomenology of faqr which Ibn al-Qayyim articulates situates us within the first-person perspective at the heart of human nature through which all lived experiences are filtered.

    It is true that the main driving factor of all human behavior is the fulfillment of their needs. This is the building block of Maslow’s famous hierarchy of needs:

    Any motivated behavior, either preparatory or consummatory, must be understood to be a channel through which many basic needs may be simultaneously expressed or satisfied.[5]

    The needs described by Maslow include physical, social, and psychological. The obvious physical needs for food, drink, and shelter ensure the survival of our biological substance.[6]  Beyond that, Maslow recognized that human beings possess a psyche that requires certain factors for its sustenance and balance, including a sense of belonging and esteem.[7] Though there are criticisms of the hierarchy itself,[8] there is no dispute regarding the idea that human needs drive human behavior. Other fields, such as history and anthropology, also recognize human needs as fundamental to human psychology. In fact, one can summarize all of human history as simply the story of how humans have endeavored to fulfill their needs across time and place. 

    Anthropogenic changes are assessed at the scale of human needs, rather than in terms of ecosystem structure and function.[9]  

    Maslow’s model, as well as others that have extended his theory, places the fulfillment of spiritual needs at the top of the hierarchy. Self-actualization and self-transcendence are often the ultimate needs of human beings represented in these models. 

    Maslow defines growth as the continuous development of talents, capacities, creativity, wisdom, and character, the various processes which bring the person toward ultimate self-actualization.[10] 

    Although widely shared versions of Maslow’s model show self-actualization as the ultimate need, this does not reflect his own amendment that put the need for self-transcendence beyond it.[11] Self-transcendence is about living for something greater than one’s self, thereby finding meaning and purpose in one’s existence. This need emerges from a realization of one’s inherent inability to find fulfillment through themselves or this worldly life. Hence, when a person searches for the fulfillment of their needs, they are ultimately searching for a means to connect themselves with a Transcendent Reality (or God). As quoted earlier, the Qur’an asserts that the only true fulfillment of human needs in a holistic sense is with God. 

    According to Maslow and other psychologists, needs are organized in a hierarchical manner.[12] This means that they should be fulfilled sequentially and not out of order. According to this, one cannot start their spiritual journey unless all lower needs are met first (biological, social, etc.). From the Islamic perspective, all needs are fulfilled through the all-encompassing pursuit of Tawheed, which represents faith in the Oneness of the Divine and dedicating one’s whole self in devotion to Him. All human needs are integrated harmoniously and fulfilled through this pursuit of dedicating one’s whole self in service to the Divine Will.

    The need for God and the need for meaning

    This article will explore faith in God from the phenomenological perspective of human needs, rather than a philosophical inquiry into His existence. This is a more fruitful approach to truly understand what it means to have faith in God from the perspective of the individual. 

    A person may object to this endeavor from the outset and point out that the perceived need for an idea or being, does not rationally necessitate that it truly exists. This objection, however, does not apply to the concept of God because, as we will demonstrate in the article, the level of need we have for God goes beyond the moral, spiritual, and psychological and extends into the domain of the intellectual. In other words, faith in God is required for truth, logic, and rationality itself to have any real meaning and ontological grounding. Even the concept of meaning itself is rooted in a belief in God as we will explore later in this article. Along similar lines, our very notion of self-identity and individuality also requires faith in God. Thus, demonstrating our need for God at this ultimate level confers complete certainty in His existence, given that we cannot meaningfully live, rationally think, or even individually be without believing in Him.

    The skeptic may respond by simply stating that he is willing to dispense with any real notions of rationality, meaning, self, morality, and anything else that is in need of faith in God. They may claim that they are happy to live life presuming that our existence is fundamentally pointless, the unintended consequence of material elements that exist reasonlessly, and that our conscious awareness and sense of self is itself an illusion brought about by blind interactions of the material elements.

    The response to this is a Qur’anic one that highlights the central element of choice in the selection of one’s paradigm:

    Say: The Truth is from your Lord, whoever wants (to believe) let him believe and whoever wants (to disbelieve) let him disbelieve. (Qur’an 18:29)

    Meaningful truth can ultimately only be found with God, as will be demonstrated in this article. Once this point is understood, then we have the choice to accept it along with the responsibility it entails, or reject it and absolve ourselves from any responsibility by denying any sense of real purpose. This verse tells us that faith is not an abstract intellectual exercise; it is a choice human beings must make in this world. The choice is whether a person accepts what life reveals to them through their intellectual tools, moral instincts, and spiritual intuitions. All of these fundamental aspects of humans—intellectual, moral, and spiritual— find their fulfillment in the Divine Reality if we take them seriously.

    The dilemma is whether we should take them seriously. Taking them seriously means that we affirm ourselves, our experiences, and what we witness in this world, and we assume full responsibility for them. Claiming that these domains of a human being are mere epiphenomena or illusions means that we negate ourselves, our experiences, and what we witness in this world. At its root, the choice is whether we believe in meaning or reject it. 

    The absurdity of choosing meaninglessness in this dilemma of faith can be summarized in the following line of thinking: 

    [W]hat does it actually mean to believe in meaninglessness? The belief in meaninglessness is itself meaningless, and therefore not a belief at all. Accordingly, there really is only one option—the meaningful. There was no battle to begin with. For an entity that fathoms meaning, there is no escape but to find a meaningful outlook on life.[13]

    With this framework in mind, we can appreciate the significance of understanding our profound need for God. Recognizing this ultimate necessity places our belief in God at a higher place of conviction than any other belief we may hold. The article will now proceed to explore each aspect of the human being—spiritual, intellectual, and moral—and how it finds its fulfillment in the Divine Reality. 

    1) The spiritual necessity of God

    The need for value

    Before a person even decides to embark on the tumultuous journey of life, they need to know if their life is worth living. This spiritual necessity is the most fundamental of all needs and requires fulfillment above even the most basic physiological needs. Why else would one decide to commit to a life of need, dependency, pain, hardship, and inevitable separation through death and loss? Victor Frankl, the famous German psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor, explains, 

    Man’s main concern is not to gain pleasure or to avoid pain, but to see a meaning in his life. That is why man is even ready to suffer, on the condition, to be sure, that his suffering has meaning.[14] 

    Recognizing one’s life as having an inherent value and worth that outweighs the cost of living in this world of trial and tribulation is the most fundamental of all needs. The question is: where does one find such value to their life? 

    Finding value in purpose

    The value of one’s life is based on what one believes to be their fundamental purpose. This is because value is a relative term that is determined in relation to a goal or objective. For instance, the value of an employee is based on their utility in achieving the goals of a company. The value of a team player is based on their ability to take their team toward their goal. Therefore, the value of your life is based on its relation to the ultimate purpose of life itself. It is inconceivable to understand the value of anything if there is no objective in relation to it. Therefore the quest to find value in one’s life is rooted in one’s quest to discover the purpose of life. 

    Atheists often object to the idea of God being necessary for meaning and purpose in life by simply giving imagined examples of hypothetical purposes or meaning that a person’s life could serve in the world. This only serves the purpose of rendering life a game with arbitrarily fashioned aims and rules. And when the game is no longer fun, one can choose not to play. According to the worldview of atheistic naturalism, this world emerged as the unintended byproduct of blind material forces and thus, by definition, without purpose. Imagine a group of people arguing over which word the sound of a creaking door most resembled. It is pointless to confer semantic meaning on the sound emitted by the haphazard interaction of particles in the door hinge when it is known that meaning can only be generated by the purposively articulated sounds of speech in a word. According to naturalism, all your conscious experiences—including emotions, hopes, thoughts, values, fears, ideas and actions—are no more meaningful than the haphazard creaking of particles which give the illusion of a meaningful word. Meaning requires purpose, and so it is with life.

    And We did not create the heaven and the earth and that between them aimlessly. That is the assumption of those who reject faith. (Qur’an 38:27)

    The materialist view renders not only the concept of purpose incoherent but also the concept of values. It strips the world of an ultimate objective, which is a necessary foundation for values to be nested in. Indeed, the iconoclastic philosopher, Arthur Schopenhauer famously said, “It would be better if we did not exist at all.” It is necessary to view the world as existing for a reason in order for a person to assign value to their life. The value of our life is thus found in relation to its role in the grand scheme of existence. 

    Is there a purpose to life?

    Some maintain that there is no purpose to life at all since it emerged through blind forces of nature without any intention or reason. This proposition can be examined from both an intellectual and practical perspective. We will demonstrate the intellectual incoherence of denying purpose later in the article. At this junction, we will focus on the impractical consequences of the denial of life having any purpose. 

    People with such a view on life cannot justify the pain of existence with their lifestyle and attempt to numb this dissonance with hedonistic pleasures. The question of the purpose of one’s life is so significant to human beings that it seems to be hard-wired into our brains. A study of the neuroscience of well-being revealed that more activity in the area of the brain associated with goal-oriented behavior was associated with higher levels of positive affect and wellbeing.[15]  

    The consequences of living a life without any purpose are a nihilistic dread and misery that lead to absurd choices and behavior such as the man attempting to sue his own mother for giving birth to him. The plaintiff in this court case said, 

    There’s no point to humanity, So many people are suffering. If humanity is extinct, Earth and animals would be happier. They’ll certainly be better off. Also no human will then suffer. Human existence is totally pointless.[16]

    This argument is difficult to refute if one shares his godless worldview. This nihilism is the ideological consequence of atheism. Life without purpose becomes a crime perpetrated against the people who are cursed to live it. This concept is self-destructive and ultimately seeks to end human life. This is why the most fundamental of needs is the spiritual need for purpose. When life has a purpose, it turns from being a painful, cursed burden into an opportunity for growth and achieving the highest state of living through a spiritual connection with God, The Transcendent. Human life, like a flower, blossoms despite the winds and waves, shining its beauty and radiance for the benefit of others. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ gave a parable of the believer to this effect,

    The example of the believer is like the fresh stalk, the leaves of which move in whatever direction the wind blows and, when the wind becomes still, it stands straight. Such is the example of the believer being affected by hardships. And the example of the one who rejects faith is like a cedar tree that remains hard and straight until Allah cuts it down whenever He wills.[17] 

    Requirements for a purpose in life

    i) Transcendence

    Popular convention in the contemporary secular age is to encourage everyone to make their own purpose in life. Such a proposition undermines the very concept of purpose due to the lack of transcendence. The purpose of something is a transcendent quality that is based on its role in relation to things outside of itself. Furthermore, the notion of the purpose of life is only coherent if it is determined by the One who brought life into existence. As mentioned earlier, if a person holds that there was no being that created the world, then the concept of purpose becomes meaningless. When a person decides to ‘make their own purpose,’ they are merely stating a preference for how they wish to live their life. Preference is a subjective wish based on personal whims and desires, whereas purpose is an objective responsibility based on a transcendent determination. The Qur’an describes the former as dhann (conjecture; assumption) and the latter as haqq (truth; purpose; responsibility):

    They only follow dhann and what their egos desire even though guidance has come to them from their Guardian Lord. (Qur’an 53:23)

    And most of them only follow dhann while dhann cannot compete with haqq at all. (Qur’an 10:36)

    ii) Intention

    The second requirement for a coherent purpose of life is the belief that someone or something intended life to exist. If life is the unintended consequence of a sequence of material events, then it is, by definition, without purpose or meaning. Simply affirming a transcendent reality or higher power is insufficient if this entity does not possess a will with an intention. If this world and our lives were brought into being with no intention, then the concept of purpose becomes meaningless once again. Consider an example that further elucidates this point. Imagine that a person randomly throws 10 coins onto a table. Although that person was the one who caused the coins to be put on the table, there is no purpose or reason behind their arrangement. This is because their placement was not based on any will or intention. Lack of intention results in a lack of purpose. People who affirm a higher power but do not relate their purpose in life to this higher power’s intention undermine the very concept of purpose, and thus Deism is impotent as an ontological foundation for meaning.

    The Qur’an is filled with expressions of the clear existence of intention behind creation:

    He created the heavens and the earth with the Ultimate Purpose (Haqq). (Qur’an 16:3)

    …And they reflect regarding the creation of the heavens and the earth (saying), “Our Lord, You did not create this aimlessly…” (Qur’an 3:191)

    And We didn’t create the universe and the earth and everything in between for fun. If We had desired to have some amusement, We would have derived it from Ourselves, but We did not do that. (Qur’an 21:16-17)

    iii) Revelation

    The third requirement flows from the first two. If there is a transcendent entity that intended this world and our lives to exist, our purpose in life lies in that intention. Therefore, discovering our purpose in life requires wisdom that is sourced in communication between human beings and the Transcendent. The Qur’an also explains that human beings do not have the epistemic authority (sultan) to know their purpose if they lack access to The Transcendent:

    Or do they have a stairway (to heaven) upon which they listen? Then let their listener bring a clear sultan. (Qur’an 52:38)

    What is wrong with you? How do you judge? When will you learn? Or do you have a clear sultan? (If that is the case), then bring your scripture if you are being truthful. (Qur’an 37:154-157)

    The concept of revelation from God to humankind is a historically documented phenomenon that serves as the foundation for many of the world’s religions. Examining the scriptures that claim to be revelations from God is an essential undertaking that enables us to differentiate genuine revelation from delusions or false claims. This idea will be explored further in a future article in this series. The main point to be established in this article is simply that revelation from God is required for a person to possess the epistemic authority necessary to know their purpose in life. 

    Claiming that the experience of revelation is not real or has never occurred renders our purpose in life unknowable. This is a common claim by the anti-religious voice, as captured in the Qur’an:

    And they did not appraise Allah with a true appraisal when they said, “Allah did not reveal anything to a human being.” (Qur’an 6:91)

    Interestingly, the Qur’an links the denial of revelation to diminishing the perfection of God. If He truly created us for a specific purpose, then He must have communicated it to us in some form. Claiming that He didn’t challenges His Wisdom, Mercy, and Love. It challenges His Wisdom as it would mean He created us for a reason but failed to give us access to that knowledge. This would undermine the purpose He created us for since ignorant humans would not be able to fulfill it. It challenges His Love and Mercy by making our value and worth as human beings unknown in the face of incredible hardship and suffering in life. 

    The only alternative to revelation would be instinctive knowledge hard-wired into our brains that informs us of our purpose. Although we do possess inherent knowledge on a lot of issues related to the question of purpose, including an innate understanding of morality and God, we do not have a coherent picture of the path required to fulfill our purpose. As the Qur’an asserts,

    Just as We have sent among you a messenger from yourselves reciting upon you Our signs, purifying you and teaching you knowledge of the scripture and wisdom, and teaching you what you couldn’t have ever known. (Qur’an 2:151)

    Therefore, revelation is the only thing that informs us of our ultimate purpose in life and the road we must take to fulfill it. 

    iv) Permanence

    Lastly, one’s purpose in life must also have permanent and eternal consequences; otherwise, it would undermine any value or worth. The Qur’an exhorts humanity to place full faith in Him, highlighting His Permanence and Eternality: “And rely upon The Living who does not die, and proclaim His purity with His praise” (Qur’an 25:58).

    If this entire existence and our lives will inevitably come to an end, then the collective striving and toiling of humanity and life as a whole were all for no consequence. This strips life of any inherent worth or meaning, as there is nothing greater that it relates to and one’s actions and decisions ultimately have no real consequence in the grand scheme of reality. An action that has no long-term impact, consequence, or effect is ultimately bereft of meaning and significance.

    From the Islamic paradigm, our lives are consequential and, thus, meaningful. The consequences are rooted in the concepts of resurrection and reckoning after death. The circle of life and rebirth that is ever-present in nature, according to the Qur’an, also applies to our consciousness. 

    So see the effects of Allah’s Mercy how He brings life to the earth after it had died. Certainly, that (same One) will give life to the dead. (Qur’an 30:50)

    The Qur’an relates this resurrection to our purpose in life, “Then did you think that We created you uselessly and that to Us you would not be returned?” (Qur’an 23:115). If the decisions we make in this life will have eternal consequences, then even the smallest choices are imbued with infinite meaning. This grants our lives an immeasurable amount of value that provides us with the strength necessary to overcome the challenges of this world. 

    The requirements of the purpose of life are contained in all six articles of faith. The Transcendent requirement is fulfilled through faith in Allah. The Intention requirement is detailed in the theology of God’s Attributes but specifically emphasized as an article of faith in Divine Decree (Al-Qadar). The Revelation requirement is fulfilled through faith in the Angels, Books, and Messengers. Lastly, the Permanence requirement is fulfilled through faith in the hereafter. It is through the lens of faith provided by Islam that a person is able to discover their purpose in life and thereby realize the value of their life. 

    Finding purpose elsewhere

    Despite the necessity of attaching one’s purpose to the Transcendent, Eternal, Creator through His revelation, many people search for value in the domain of the ephemeral world. One of the most common, seemingly harmless ways is through relationships. But searching for worth and purpose through social relationships intrinsically is inadequate as those relationships do not possess the qualities of transcendence or permanence. It is dangerous due to the ever-present possibility of betrayal and is unjustified due to the inevitable permanent separation through death that would render all life pointless once the person passes on. This concept was captured eloquently in the speech of Abu Bakr after the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ passed away, 

    Whoever worshipped Muhammad, know that he has died, but whoever worships Allah, then know that He is The Living and will never die.[18]  

    The fact is that all worldly things that people cling to for stability in the chaos of life will eventually break or depart, leaving those poor souls to fall into the dark crevice of this world. The breaking of these handholds takes the form of betrayal, separation, or just weakness and incompetence in the face of life’s challenges. But there is one handhold that illuminates the darkness and is available to us no matter how far we have fallen. The Qur’an beautifully explains, 

    Let no one force another to adopt a way of life. Without a doubt, Truth is clear from Falsehood. So whoever rejects false gods and puts their faith in Allah, then they have grasped the firm, trustworthy handhold that will never break. And Allah is All-Hearing, All-Knowing. Allah is the Ally of those who believe, taking them out from the darkness into the light. (Qur’an 2:256)

    Finding purpose through God

    And I have not created Jinn and Humankind except for them to lovingly devote themselves (to God) through worship. (Qur’an 51:56)[19]

    One must direct their gaze beyond the universe to find value and worth in their life. The Transcendent Divine Reality, Eternally Living Owner of Beauty and Grace is the only true source of value and worth for human life. Recognizing our life as a gift from God and that we are tasked with the mission of reflecting the Light of God’s Divine Qualities on to this world of darkness through seeking to make ourselves and this world a better place provides us a limitless fountain of meaning that fills the human spirit with immense worth and value. 

    Allah, there is nothing worthy of worship except Him, The Living, The Sustainer of All. Neither sleep nor drowsiness overtakes Him. To Him belongs everything in the heavens and in the earth. Who can intercede except with His permission? He knows what is before them and what will come after. And they cannot apprehend even a drop of His Knowledge except with His Will. His Kursi extends over the heavens and the earth. Protecting them does not tire Him and He is The Transcendent, The Magnificent. (Qur’an 2:255)

    Experiencing the greatness of Allah through powerful descriptions of His Qualities is empowering when viewed through the lens of His Love and Compassion toward us. When we ask ourselves if we deserved to be born or if our life is worth something, we are swiftly answered by the Guardian Lord of the Universe who calls us to be with Him, 

    O Humankind, lovingly devote yourself through worship to your Guardian Lord, Who created you and those before you, so that you may attain taqwa (caution and alertness, being fearful of God). (Qur’an 2:21)

    And follow the path of those who turn to Me. (Qur’an 31:15)

    The Owner of Might and Grandeur wants us to achieve an everlasting paradise, where all our dreams will come true. 

    And Allah calls to the Home of Peace and guides whom He wills to the straight path. (Qur’an 10:25)

    Is that better or the Garden of Eternity which has been promised to the pious? It will be for them a reward and their final destination. They will have whatever they wish, abiding in it eternally. That is a binding promise on your Lord. (Qur’an 25:15-16)

    Experiencing this Love can fill the holes in our hearts with the light of faith. Ibn al-Qayyim explains, 

    In the heart, there exists an anxiousness that nothing can calm but drawing nearer to Allah. In it is a desolate feeling that cannot be removed except by experiencing His Loving Company in solitude. In it is sadness that will not leave except with the joy of knowing Him and genuinely devoting oneself to Him. In it is a worry that is not made tranquil except by focusing on Him, fleeing from His punishment toward Him. In it is a fire of regret which cannot be extinguished except by satisfaction with His commands, prohibitions, destiny, and patiently gripping on to all that until the time it meets Him. In it is a strong desire that will not cease until He is the Only One Who is sought. In it is a hole that cannot be filled except by His Love, turning to Him, always remembering Him, and being sincere to Him. Were a person to be given the entire world and everything in it, that would never fill the hole.[20]

    Therefore, faith in God is truly the essential pillar on which all other needs rest. From this faith, we see branches sprout forth that provide fruits of fulfillment for all domains of human existence. Understanding faith as a tree with branches that intersect with all levels and layers of human life in all its complexities is a Qur’anic and Prophetic allegory that enables us to understand the mystery of faith. 

    Have you not considered how Allah presents an example, (making) a pure word like a pure tree, whose roots are firmly fixed and its branches (high) in the sky? It produces its fruit at all times by permission of its Lord. And Allah presents examples for people that perhaps they will recognize. (Qur’an 14:24-25)

    The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, 

    Faith has over seventy branches—or over sixty branches—the uppermost of which is the declaration: “None has the right to be worshipped but Allah”; and the least of which is the removal of a harmful object from the road, and modesty is a branch of iman.[21]

    Faith in God is not meant to be limited to rituals but to be extended from the highest of human concerns like the declaration of one’s existential purpose to the minutiae of life such as removing a thorny branch from the footpath. All our needs can be fulfilled by the fruits that arise from this tree of faith.

    Fulfillment of all of the necessities of human life is, in fact, rooted in faith in the Divine. Without this essential ingredient, we would not be able to fulfill the most basic physical, psychological, and intellectual needs we encounter as we live out the story of our life. The body, mind, and soul are dependent on God, whether we realize it or not. As we will see throughout the course of this article, even those who profess disbelief in God implicitly trust and have faith in the presence of His Divine Names and Attributes out of necessity. 

    So is it other than the way of Allah that they seek while whoever is in the galaxies and the earth have submitted to Him, willingly or out of compulsion, and to Him shall they all return. (Qur’an 3:83)

    2) The intellectual necessity of God

    The intellect is one of the fundamental human faculties. Human beings naturally develop a sophisticated cognitive apparatus that allows them to process ideas, thoughts, and sensorial experiences in order to arrive at coherent and meaningful internal representations of reality. Ibn Taymiyyah (d. 728 AH) notes that every human being would invariably prefer to have their mind populated with true beliefs and beneficial desires rather than false beliefs and harmful desires.[22] So how then does a human being justify his or her beliefs as true representations of reality?

    There is a well-known philosophical problem in epistemology known as Münchhausen’s trilemma. A person is asked to provide proof that a proposition is true, after which they are asked how they know that proof itself to be true. At this stage, they are confronted with choosing one of the following three basic options:[23]

    • Option 1: Every proof itself requires another proof, in which case they require an infinite number of proofs to justify a belief as true (infinitism).
    • Option 2: All proofs go back to a certain indubitable premise which itself does not need to be proven or justified (foundationalism). For instance, for some people that foundation may be rationalism; for others, it may be empiricism.
    • Option 3: The proofs justify one another in a circular fashion, with the last proof being justified by the first (coherentism). 

    Of course, all three options are problematic and would seem to suggest that no one can ever obtain certainty in anything, for no belief could justifiably be regarded as true if there is no escape from Münchhausen’s trilemma. Humans would never be able to possess knowledge about anything. Without a superior epistemology that can escape the trilemma, all human beliefs amount to nothing more than unsubstantiated presumptions; and that superior epistemology is embedded within the Divine revelation. “They follow nothing but conjecture and their own wishful thinking, even though true guidance has come to them from their Lord” (Qur’an 53:23).

    On closer scrutiny, there is something rather dubious about Münchhausen’s trilemma—in order for the trilemma to even be posed, it requires presupposing certain ontological concepts, such as truth, meaning, justification, belief, proof, sequence, relation, distinction, and so on. Where did these concepts come from, and if they too are unjustified, should they likewise be discarded? If all concepts are discarded, then how can the mind conceptualize any meaningful thought at all? As mentioned above, it is logically incoherent to affirm a belief in meaninglessness, since the very act of affirming a belief necessitates a commitment to meaning. Thus, to proclaim a ‘belief’ in meaninglessness becomes an absurd paradox.

    In the West, Münchhausen’s trilemma remains as insoluble to modern philosophers as it was to their Hellenistic predecessors. But where philosophers have floundered for eons, Qur’anic exegetes elegantly succeed. The Qur’an espouses a teleological dimension to truth—the Qur’an uses the Arabic term haqq to signify both truth and purpose and likewise uses the term batil to signify both falsehood and something devoid of purpose.[24] Truths serve a function in rendering reality meaningful. Drawing upon the Qur’anic epistemology of the fitrah, Ibn Taymiyyah astutely notes that there are certain basic ontological building blocks that the mind must possess by necessity in order to have any meaningful conception of reality whatsoever: “What all human beings recognize is that there are some mental conceptualizations and affirmations which are primordial concepts and not themselves in need of proof by definition or syllogism, or else it would entail circularity or infinitism.”[25] What Ibn Taymiyyah identifies is that there is a category of concepts that serve as ontological anchors for any meaningful conceptualization of reality, and these are integral to the human being’s acquisition of knowledge through the natural course of development. Human infants naturally develop notions of causality, numerical quantity, morality, purpose, and so forth, and any attempt to discard these ontological building blocks would entail the deterioration of coherent and meaningful representations of reality. Adopting a paradigm of skepticism and demanding proof for the ontological anchors themselves only results in the collapse of the entire intellectual enterprise of meaning. 

    Every human being must necessarily search for a paradigm that provides a meaningful conception of the fundamental aspects of existence. The Qur’an states, “These are the signs of God that We recite to you in truth (bil-haqq). So in what narrative after God and His signs will you believe?” (Qur’an 45:6). The Qur’anic exegete al-Alusi (d. 1270 AH) said, “And this indicates that there is no meaningful explanation (bayan) more meaningful than this explanation [i.e., the Islamic paradigm], nor sign (ayah) stronger as a proof than this sign.”[26] The most powerful epistemology of proof is one that functionally serves to construct an understanding of reality that yields the greatest meaning.

    Does the existence of God require philosophical proof?

    Contemporary discussions regarding faith in God are almost exclusively broached through a dialectical approach that attempts to provide syllogistic arguments for or against the theoretical existence of the Divine Reality. Viewed from this lens, the idea of God becomes a mere hypothesis that is destined to be debated for millennia into the future as it has already been for millennia in the past. Such an endeavor has proven fruitless in terms of reaching any real understanding of what it means to have faith in God. It has also led to the erroneous idea that theists believe in a “God of the Gaps,” since the proof of His existence has been relegated to simply inserting Him in a causal link stemming from a Newtonian mechanistic explanation of the world. 

    The classical theologian, Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751 AH), famously remarked in his widely acclaimed discourse on Islamic spirituality, Madaarij as-Salikeen

    Knowledge (of God) according to them (spiritual masters) is innate rather than something that requires proof…This is why none of the messengers were ever sent to their nation in order to prove the existence of a Creator, rather their calling was to the devotion to and unity of the Divine.[27] 

    Ibn al-Qayyim viewed faith in God to be a necessity and found the notion of having to prove God’s existence an absurdity,

    And how can the proof (for God) be valid if His existence is more obvious than the supposed proof?[28]

    Modern cognitive science has also asserted that belief in God does not arise from extensive philosophical deliberations, inferences, or other rational processes but through a separate primary “god-faculty” that is beyond the reach of reason.[29] Kelly Clark, a philosopher who writes extensively on the cognitive science of religion, states that belief in God is “a natural product of our common cognitive faculties, and in this sense, religious belief is ‘natural.’”[30] 

    From this perspective, the difficulty encountered by theologians and philosophers attempting to prove the existence of God to the atheist is akin to the difficulty a person would have in trying to prove their own existence to a solipsist (someone skeptical about the existence of reality). If such a self-evident truth is questioned, there is little common ground that can be established for any fruitful dialogue. One may try and direct the skeptic to clear audio-visual-tactile sensation for proof of one’s existence. However, the solipsist can easily dismiss such proof by introducing the possibility of hallucination or even extend this doubt to questioning external reality itself as an illusive matrix.[31]  

    This hyper-skeptical attitude is described in the Qur’an in response to the requests for miracles to prove that Muhammad ﷺ was a prophet. It is mentioned that even the most powerful empirical sign would be futile in convincing a cynical skeptic,

    And (even) if We opened to them a gate from heaven and they continued therein to ascend, they would say, ‘Our eyes are hallucinating, or we’ve been affected by magic.’ (Qur’an 15:15)

    How can one begin to try and prove these self-evident truths that are being called into question? Since syllogistic reasoning and philosophical inquiry on their own are unable to bring closure to these issues, the only portal of entry remaining is faith. 

    Reality of faith

    It may sound strange that belief in the existence of other people requires faith. But faith from an Islamic perspective is the most fundamental epistemic decision that a human being can make in response to what they witness in the world. Thus, faith becomes the highest level of conviction a person can achieve, rather than belief in the absence of evidence. The more an idea is related to the core of our being, the further it is from the grasp of rational and empirical pursuits and the closer it is to the all-encompassing reality of faith. Therefore, as we will see in the forthcoming discussion, the most self-evident of truths are the ones that require the strongest of faith, including the truth of God’s existence. 

    The theological term for faith, Iman, linguistically carries the connotation of trust, security, and safety. This is a fascinating etymology because preceding any knowledge acquisition is the necessity of epistemic trust. This ‘trust’ or ‘faith’ must be directed at one’s own empirical senses and rational faculties in order to render them valid avenues to knowledge and truth. There are no logical proofs for the validity of logic since that would involve circular reasoning. You have to trust that your logic provides a true representation of reality in order for your logic to be of any benefit to you. Similarly, there are no empirical proofs for the validity of our sense-perception since validity is not an entity that can be observed. Therefore, reason and empirical sense must be taken on epistemic faith and trust, because without this faith we would be unable to formulate any meaningful interpretation of reality. 

    Faith in God

    Prior to contemplating whether to trust our senses or logic, there is an even more fundamental notion that must be recognized through faith. It is the idea that this world and one’s life are about something. Such a universal and fundamental belief about ourselves and the universe we inhabit uncovers how we view faith in God. In reality, believing that the universe and our lives are about something is nested in the Divinely Destined origin of reality. This is the only possible source of the true ‘aboutness’ or existential ‘intentionality’ of our lives and the universe. Thus, the starting point of all knowledge is faith in God’s Divine Intention (Al-Qadar). 

    He created the heavens and earth with a purpose; Transcendent is He above all they associate with Him. (Qur’an 16:3)

    The world and our lives can only be about something if there is a reason for their existence. There can only be a reason for our existence if there is an intention behind it. Finally, there can only be an intention behind it, if there is One who intended—God. Everything we learn about the natural world, history, anthropology, medicine, and every other conceivable art or science is a testament to the meaning that exists in the world, which is a testament to the One who endowed this world with meaning and truth to be discovered, bringing color and light to the cold dark matter of the universe. 

    Finding intelligibility through God

    If the world had not been divinely ordained, then it must have emerged through random blind forces of ‘nature.’ This would strip away the aboutness of the entire world and our lives. 

    And We did not create the heaven and the earth and everything between them randomly. That is the assumption of those who reject faith. (Qur’an 38:27)

    Thus, our conscious experience of realities like meaning, knowledge, value, truth, and falsehood become mere illusions of the mind. Why would value exist in a world that has been formed by random and blind forces? There is no good and bad in randomness, only alternative arrangements of atoms and molecules. Similarly, why would meaning have any real existence except as an illusion of the human mind? Words become arbitrary means of categorization invented by our species. Lastly, why would any real notion of identity or self exist if we were nothing but an amalgamation of atoms and particles, only with different arrangements than others? We, as individuals, would no longer exist, only our bodies.

    The naturalist tries to build his whole outlook of reality based on what can be directly observed and tested—whatever constitutes ‘empirical evidence.’ But as a consequence of his a priori commitment to exclude anything beyond the immediacy of his own empirical lens, he ends up with a puzzling picture of a pointless world of purposeless particles. There is no good or evil, right or wrong, pleasure or pain, knowledge or ignorance—only different arrangements of particles, which are all equally aimless and bereft of any significance. Values, ideas, meanings—nay, even consciousness itself, must be nothing more than the delusions of collections of particles we call ‘people,’ which presume their own consciousness and individuated existence. Everything in existence which is conceived to have meaning is—at its very root and essence—ultimately, meaningless. Nothing matters and nothing means anything at all. This conclusion all stems from the initial choice made to dismiss the spiritual instinct that life is inherently about something greater.[32]

    All these self-evident truths that every sane individual takes as givens are called into question the moment we attempt to remove God from our worldview. Thus, faith in Him is a necessity for us to traverse the ocean of inexhaustible meaning that is to be discovered from the world and inside ourselves.

    We will show them Our signs in the horizons and within themselves until it becomes clear to them that it is the truth. (Qur’an 41:53)

    Faith in God is necessary for meaning itself to exist in this world. This is not a “God of the gaps” argument, as we are not attempting to justify God’s existence through inserting Him in a mechanistic conception of the world. Rather, we are postulating that the very essence of explanation itself requires faith in a Divine entity to render any notion of meaning coherent. No conceptualization is coherent without meaning; meaning is the very bedrock of ontology. Unlike the “God of the gaps,” there is no empirical discovery that can challenge this unbreakable bond between Meaning and the Divine, as it is a metaphysical connection forged beyond this world, never to be broken. 

    They cannot encompass anything from His Knowledge except what He wills. (Qur’an 2:256)

    The Truth of God is as clear and evident as the meaning that naturally arises from our tongues through language. According to the Qur’an, the language we speak testifies to this Reality,

    By the Lord of the Universe and the Earth, it is the Truth, just as sure as it is that you are speaking. (Qur’an 51:23)

    The manner in which meaning surfaces within the human mind, the capacity of the mind to fathom meaning, and the concordance between meanings conceptualized in the mind and the external reality are some of the most powerful testaments to the ontological reality of the Divine. Why and how the intellect exists as a conscious representation of reality is a tremendous puzzle to any naturalistic conception of reality. Indeed, the theologian Abu Mansur al-Maturidi (d. 333 AH) identified this as an epistemic foundation to recognize God that comes even before recognition of the Divine signs in the natural realm and through the revealed guidance. He writes that God clarified to us that He is the sole Deity and Lord, and the only One deserving of our worship via the following three methods: (i) The modality (kayfiyyah) and quiddity (mahiyyah) of the human intellect cannot be grasped by the intellect itself;[33] (ii) the manifestations of the Divine in the created natural realm of signs; and (iii) the revealed guidance which informs us of His Lordship and sole right to be worshipped.[34]

    In addition to the origins of the meanings which emerge in their mind, such meanings are only properly developed and shaped when their purpose is recognized and equipped with the proper cognitive tools. Thus, the intellectual dimension of the human being flourishes in the company of true spirituality.

    3) The moral necessity of God

    The moral instinct

    Human beings seem to have a fascination with ethics and morality. They have an innate and instinctive desire to ensure the world around them is arranged in a manner that is morally justified. Psychologist Steven Pinker remarks,

    According to Noam Chomsky, we are born with a ‘universal grammar’ that forces us to analyze speech in terms of its grammatical structure, with no conscious awareness of the rules in play. By analogy, we are born with a universal moral grammar that forces us to analyze human action in terms of its moral structure, with just as little awareness.[35] 

    There has been a lot of work in the field of developmental psychology that has looked at infant and toddler behavior in relation to conventional moral virtues.[36] The results are astonishing. Take for instance the preference for justice which can be seen in infants as young as 8 months, and the expressions of compassion that start to emerge in one-year-olds. These are all constitutive elements of the primordial nature the Qur’an terms the fitrah, which includes all our basic spiritual, moral, and rational intuitions about the world.

    Moral realism is incompatible with naturalism

    The belief in and commitment to acting in accordance with moral virtues necessitate certain ideas about the world. The first is that there is a way that the world should be. Valuation is inescapable. The second is that these moral imperatives represent the ideal course of reality that everyone should submit to. Both of these ideas are nonsensical from a worldview of atheism and naturalism. If the world is the sum total of random blind forces, then it is nonsensical to consider notions of ideal or how the world should be. There can be no should or ideal if there was no intention behind the formation of the world.

    There can only be preferences, which are amoral by their very nature. They represent mere whims and desires about how a person subjectively wishes to see the world. Richard Garner, a contemporary atheist philosopher argues that fellow atheists have no grounds to believe in morality and should dispense with it altogether (a position he terms moral abolitionism):

    Just as atheists claim that the beliefs of theists about the objective existence of a god are in error, moral error theorists claim that the beliefs of moral realists about the objective existence of moral rules, prohibitions, virtues, vices, values, rights, and duties are also in error, and for the same reason—what they are talking about doesn’t exist.[37]

    In recent times there has been a push by New Atheists like Sam Harris to create a system of values based on a naturalistic view of the world using science.[38]  We have already demonstrated the absurdity of this notion, owing to the fact that values are meaningless in a materialistic worldview—there is no substantive reason to prefer one arrangement of the material particles in the universe over another and according to naturalism, all of existence reduces to mere alternations in the arrangement of particles. Harris himself admits to this point when responding to critiques of his book:

    My purpose was to show that moral truths exist and that they must fall (in principle, if not in practice) within some (perhaps never to be complete) understanding of the way conscious minds arise in this universe.[39]

    He also admits that moral truths exist as intuitions independent of any scientific investigation:

    We have certain logical and moral intuitions that we cannot help but rely upon to understand and judge the desirability of various states of the world.[40]

    After conceding these points, Harris is simply advocating for the use of science to determine how to apply values we hold deep inside. However, he refuses to realize that value must be nested in belief in God and that disbelieving in God results in the denial of value. Richard Garner explains that the secular morality advocated by New Atheists will be unable to sustain itself intellectually and eventually will lead to the denial of morality outright:

    An atheist’s eventual embrace of a moral error theory will be facilitated, if not forced, by the ease with which arguments used to undermine theism can be recycled to criticize the analogous beliefs of secular moralists.[41] 

    Morality comes from beyond this world

    In order to truly believe in moral virtues and advocate for their implementation in the world, one requires faith in the moral nature of the universe. This is the notion that the universe has not only been arranged physically according to qualities of rationality, wisdom, and power but also morally according to qualities such as love, justice, and compassion.[42] This is rooted in faith in the Divine ordering of the world at these two levels, “Certainly to Him belongs the creation and the command” (Qur’an 7:54) and 

    We have raised the heavens and placed the balance so that you do not transgress (and stay) within the balance. (Qur’an 55:7-8)

    Even Steven Pinker, a staunch atheist who attempts to reconcile morality with a godless world, cannot avoid relying on metaphysical explanations, invoking the concept of the platonic world of forms as the ontological grounding of good and evil.[43] However, this merely begs the question and does not provide any explanation. Where do these ideals come from and what is their relation to the reality we experience? If they are to be taken as eternal ideals existing external to the material universe that have somehow burdened humanity with the task of their implementation, then this is, by definition, a supernatural God. 

    Therefore, believing in moral virtues necessitates ontological grounding which is only ultimately realized through faith in God. From the Islamic worldview, moral virtues such as compassion, justice, love, kindness, and generosity stem from the Divine Names and Attributes of God that humanity is meant to emulate. Anyone who works for these moral virtues is actually working in the path of God through His Attributes. Those who claim to reject God may actually believe in some of His Attributes and effectively submit to them by acting in accordance with them at least to the extent that their understanding of them aligns with God’s.

    Human rights activists who claim to disbelieve in God are working for His cause by striving to implement His qualities on this earth. The Qur’an describes a type of unacknowledged submission to Him as we have previously quoted.

    So is it other than the way of Allah they desire, while to Him have submitted [all] those within the heavens and earth, willingly or unwillingly, and to Him they will be returned? (Qur’an 3:83)

    The unacknowledged submission in this verse has been understood by some commentators in the context of the pagan Arabs who ‘submitted’ to the idea that God was the sole Creator, despite their insistence on affirming multiple gods in worship.[44] They accepted the Divine essence (dhaat) while denying God’s attribute of uluhiyyah—His sole right to be worshipped. This concept of affirming one aspect of the Divine Nature and negating other aspects can perhaps be extended to the modern manifestation of secular humanists who affirm the Divine qualities (Sifaat) of morality, justice, compassion, and beauty in the world but deny the Divine Essence (Dhaat), which is the ontological source. 

    Islamic theology and Euthyphro’s dilemma

    Pinker tries to object to the moral necessity of God by claiming that Divinely-sourced morality results in a philosophical dilemma.[45] Are these morals arbitrarily determined by God? If so, He could command us to torture children and that would be considered good. But this would go against our moral conscience and intuition, rendering them illusions. Or are these morals external restraints on God that He must abide by Himself? If this is the case, it would challenge His Omnipotence and violate His Divinity. 

    This argument about morality, often termed Euthyphro’s dilemma,[46] is far from novel and has been debated for millennia. In fact, it is a familiar theological discussion to any student of Islamic theology—is something good because God commanded it, or did God command it because it is good? Muhammad Ash-Shahrastani (d. 553 AH) documents in his work on comparative theology the controversy surrounding Tahseen wa Taqbeeh (deeming things good and evil) as well as the concept of al-Hikmah wa Ta’leel Fee Af’aal Allah (the Wisdom and Reason behind God’s Actions).[47]  The Ash‘ari (and Maturidi)[48] approach to the question of morality, which in contemporary terms is called Divine command theory, resembles the first option posited by Pinker.[49] The Ash’aris asserted that moral values are defined only in terms of what God commands. 

    All (moral) obligations are based on revelation (sam’iyya), and the intellect (’aql) has no role in discerning between right and wrong.[50]

    Imam Fakhr ad-Deen Ar-Razi (d. 606 AH), one of the most influential Ash’ari thinkers, writes in his theological work, Muhassal Afkaar al-Mutaqaddimeen,

    The judgment of goodness in this world is not established except with revelation (shar’) and nothing can judge over revelation.[51] 

    The Mu’tazili approach resembled the second option, claiming that actions are intrinsically characterized as good or bad and that God must abide by ethical values when He acts.[52]  Al-Qadhi Abdul-Jabbar (d. 415 AH), the famous Mu’tazili theologian, states in his comprehensive work on theology, Al-Mughni fee Abwaab at-Tawheed wa al-’Adl, regarding the moral imperatives of the Qur’an,

    The command is based on its connection to goodness and benefit … The prohibition is based on its connection to evil. And so, based on its connection to evil, it is something that leads to corruption or prevents benefit.[53]

    The Hanbali approach to moral theology, which received its most elaborate articulation by Ibn Taymiyyah (d. 728 AH) and his student Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751 AH), advanced a centrist view that ontologically rooted morality in the Divine Names and Attributes themselves and at the same time affirmed our epistemological capacity to know certain fundamental moral truths independent of revelation.[54] With respect to ontology, the very existence of the concepts of justice, compassion, truth, and so on, exist in reality as a reflection of the Divine Nature. With respect to epistemology, we know the basics of whether something is good or evil from the inclinations in our fitrah which we subsequently extend through our intellect (‘aql).

    Ibn al-Qayyim explains,

    Allah has predisposed His creation to (intuitively) know that truth and justice are good, along with beauty, modesty, and gratitude. He has also predisposed His creation to (intuitively) know that the opposite of all the above is evil. This capacity is related to their fitrah (human nature) and ‘aql (intellect), just like sweetness and bitterness is known through taste sensation, or like perfume and foul odor is known through smell sensation … Our moral sense is just as intuitive as our empirical senses in distinguishing between the good and the bad, the pure and the filthy.[55]

    Our moral sense is a reflection of the Divine Nature and is tied to our spiritual journey. We love justice because justice is a Divine quality, and we naturally love the Divine. Therefore, love for morality is synonymous with love for God. In fact, our love for, and commitment to, morality are merely extensions of our innate love and aspiration for the Divine. The early 20th-century Turkish Muslim thinker, Said Nursi explains this point,

    Humanity is created with a capacity to be able to receive the manifestations of all Divine Names and attain all perfections.[56]

    Elsewhere he writes,

    By means of the miniature measure it contains, Selfhood slowly comes to understand the true nature of the Divine Attributes and Names.[57]

    This integration of morality with spirituality solves the confusions mentioned by Pinker. God commanding what is good and forbidding what is evil is neither arbitrary nor an external force compelling Him to act.

    God acts according to His nature and He would not contradict His own qualities. If He did, they would, by definition, cease to be His qualities. God’s nature cannot be considered arbitrary since arbitrariness is a product of this world and human limitation. When something is arbitrary, it means a decision was made without any particular rationale or reason due to limitations in the comprehension or processing of the consequences and implications of the decision. This does not exist in the Divine reality where His existence is defined by Hikmah (wisdom) and ‘Ilm (absolute knowledge). He has no limitations that would allow room for arbitrariness.

    Someone may ask, what determined God’s nature and qualities to be the way that they are? This question is nonsensical as it assumes a temporal concept of causality, which does not exist in a reality that transcends time. Moreover, such a question would ultimately lead to Tasalsul (infinite regress of causes), a philosophical absurdity. Ibn Taymiyyah says,

    That would necessitate an infinite regress. Because if His action had a cause, then that cause would require another cause.[58]

    A person may apply this concept to the issue of wisdom or morality as a reason for God’s actions and claim that it involves the same absurdity. However, Ibn Taymiyyah responds by explaining how a wisdom behind an action is not etiological (temporally-based) but teleological (purpose-based). This means that the reason for the action is based on a future set of events rather than an infinite causal chain into the past.

    This is an infinite chain of events into the future rather than into the past. When He does an action for a wisdom, that wisdom is achieved after the action. Then from that particular wisdom that is achieved, another wisdom is intended from that, and it continues into eternity. So that wisdom that is achieved is intrinsically loved and also a means for a second wisdom. So Glorified is He, the One who brings forth from His wisdoms what He loves and makes them means for more of what He loves.[59] 

    Regarding the second option, it is absurd to consider God’s qualities as ‘higher’ than Him, such that He becomes compelled to act in accordance with them. The qualities are part of His Being, which, by definition, means that He acts in accordance with them. But this does not entail that He is compelled or obligated in any way by anything outside of Himself. Ibn Taymiyyah writes, 

    Ahl al-Sunnah (people following Islamic tradition) agree that He created everything as Lord and Owner. Everything He wills becomes and anything He does not will does not become and no one else can place restrictions that He must abide by.[60] 

    God acts and commands based on His Will, as is mentioned throughout the Qur’an, “And such is the case that Allah does whatever He Wills” (Qur’an 3:40), “Certainly Allah does whatever He Wills” (Qur’an 22:18), “He Forgives whoever He Wills and Punishes whoever He Wills, and Allah is the Determiner of all things” (Qur’an 2:284). 

    And this Will is characterized by His Qualities of Hikmah (wisdom), Rahma (compassion) and ‘Adl (justice) as alluded to in several verses,:“He Forgives whoever He Wills and Punishes whoever He Wills and Allah is The Most Forgiving and Most Compassionate” (Qur’an 3: 129), “God Commands justice, benevolence, and giving to one’s relatives and He forbids indecency, wretchedness, and transgression” (Qur’an 16:90), and “Declare that my Lord commands absolute justice” (Qur’an 7:29).

    Finding morality through God

    In summary, morality can only exist coherently if viewed through the lens of faith in God. A person who is committed to moral virtues, advocating and striving to live his or her life in accordance with them is, in fact, submitting to the Will of the Divine. Criticisms against the moral necessity of God have been shown to be unwarranted through a theological analysis of the issue. Thus, our moral sense that starts to manifest as early as infancy is a reflection of our need and love for the Divine Names and Attributes. When we experience moral outrage at injustice and cry out for peace, compassion, and love, it is our souls that are crying out and longing for the Divine Presence in our world. We all naturally want God in our lives; even those who reject His existence can’t help but desire His Divine Qualities. 

    Recognizing God through your lived experience

    There is no proof that can make the existence of God more obvious than it already is for those who reflect deeply on their lived experience. Our spiritual experience that craves purpose, value, and worth can only find its fulfillment in the Transcendent Reality of God. Our intellectual journey that seeks to discover meaning in the world, finds its ontological grounding in the Divine origins of the universe. There is no other obvious reason why the world should be comprehensible or lend itself to our explanatory endeavors, which is what makes science a sensible enterprise. Our moral journey seeks to actualize qualities that can only find their reality in the Divine Essence. Therefore, by simply living life we are testifying to our desire for God. 

    The alternative is to attempt the impossible—to embrace a view of meaninglessness within a mind that cannot escape meaning. It is to deny that meaning, purpose, and reason exist at the most fundamental level of reality, while meaningful conceptions of reality, logic, and morality are supposed to be suspended in an ontological void without any foundation. The spiritual, intellectual, and moral dimensions of life necessitate a purposeful journey towards God, yet some refuse to embark on the journey of meaning and choose to stay stranded on the island of nihilism. 

    Indeed, faith in God is ultimately a choice that people must make in their lives. It involves a commitment to love, serve, and strive towards Him. It isn’t a theoretical proposition, nor the outcome of abstract philosophical or empirical deliberation, analyzing data for and against His hypothesized existence. Nor is it a decision that is merely made on a whim. It takes courage and conviction to pursue a meaningful existence that tasks us with the Divinely ordained mission to serve as agents of piety and virtue on earth, a worldview that renders us accountable for every moment of our conscious choices. Indeed, it is a choice that comes from the depths of our being. The choice to live by faith or without it is a reflection of the purity of perception within our souls. The deeper our introspection and capacity for reflection on the spiritual, intellectual, and moral dimensions of life, the sharper our spiritual perception. The more we live our lives for the pursuit of transient bodily pleasures without any higher purpose or meaning, the more obscure our vision. 

    Declare that the Truth is from your Lord. So whoever chooses, let him have faith and whoever chooses, let him repress faith. (Qur’an 18:29)

    We are in essence compelled to faith by virtue of our need for God. A relationship with Him is the most important relationship we have in this world—it fulfills our spiritual needs for purpose and worth, our intellectual needs for knowledge and meaning, and our moral needs for establishing justice and compassion. There is simply no substitute for God. Humankind stands in absolute need of the presence of the Divine in their life:

    O humankind, you are those that need Allah with much destitution, while Allah is Free of need and Worthy of All Praise and Thanks. (Qur’an 35:15)

     

    Notes

    [1] Ontology is the study of existence, being, and the very nature and constituents of reality. Content in the field includes the examination of such questions as the nature of causality, the existence of numbers, the relationship between explanations and abstract concepts and the objects to which they relate, and so on. What is required in order for us to maintain coherent notions about existence indicates an ontological necessity.

    [2] Philosopher Harry Gene Blocker writes on the meaning of meaning, “the logical root of meaning can be traced to the sense of purpose and a system of purposeful relations. When people speak of the meaningfulness of things, they are usually talking either about (a) the purposive way things seem to hang together or (b) the purpose which this system has as a whole. Correspondingly, meaninglessness can mean either (a) the breakdown of this system or (b) the realization that the purpose for the system as a whole is a human projection having no foundation in reality.” Blocker, H. G. The Meaning of Meaninglessness (1974), pp. 33-40.

    [3] Ibn al-Qayyim. (2009). Rawdatul-Muhibeen. Cairo, Egypt: Dar Alam al-Fawa’id, p.14. For a full discussion see Khan N. (2015). Tawheed – A life worth living. Accessed on https://spiritualperception.org/a-life-worth-living/.

    [4] Ibn al-Qayyim. (2007). Tareeq al-Hijratayn. Makkah, Saudi Arabia: Dar Alam al-Fawa’id, pp.12-16. He contrasts this view with the notion that God’s role with respect to creation is limited to a cause-effect relationship, either originating their existence as an occurrence in time (huduth) or affirming a contingent possibility (imkan), whereas Ibn al-Qayyim sees these as mere signs of the more essential ontological dependence of creation upon the Creator.

    [5] Maslow, A. H. (1943). A theory of human motivation. Psychological Review50(4), 370.

    [6] Ibid.

    [7] Ibid.

    [8] Bouzenita, A. I., & Boulanouar, A. W. (2016). Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: An Islamic critique. Intellectual Discourse, 24(1).

    [9] Briggs, J. M., Spielmann, K. A., Schaafsma, H., Kintigh, K. W., Kruse, M., Morehouse, K., & Schollmeyer, K. (2006). Why ecology needs archaeologists and archaeology needs ecologists. Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment4(4), 180-188.

    [10] Sengupta, S. S. (2011). Growth in human motivation: Beyond Maslow. Indian Journal of Industrial Relations47, 102-116.

    [11] Koltko-Rivera, M. E. (2006). Rediscovering the later version of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: Self-transcendence and opportunities for theory, research, and unification. Review of General Psychology10(4), 302.

    [12] Maslow, A. H. (1943). A theory of human motivation. Psychological Review50(4), 370.

    [13] Khan N. (2015). The real battle: Meaningful vs meaningless. Spiritual Perception. Accessed on https://spiritualperception.org/the-real-battle-meaningful-vs-meaningless/ 

    [14] Kaplin, A., & Anzaldi, L. (2015). New movement in neuroscience: A purpose-driven life. Cerebrum: The Dana Forum on Brain Science, 7.

    [15] Urry, H. L., Nitschke, J. B., Dolski, I., Jackson, D. C., Dalton, K. M., Mueller, C. J., … & Davidson, R. J. (2004). Making a life worth living: Neural correlates of well-being. Psychological Science15(6), 367-372.

    [16] Piper, K. ( 2019, February 7). This man is trying to sue his parents for giving birth to him. Vox, Retrieved from https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/2019/2/7/18215586/india-man-suing-parents-giving-birth-antinatalism-raphael-samuel 

    [17] Sahih al Bukhari, Hadith 7466.

    [18] Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 4453.

    [19] For a larger discussion on the concept of ibadah (worship) see: https://yaqeeninstitute.org/mohammad-elshinawy/why-does-god-ask-people-to-worship-him/ 

    [20] Ibn al-Qayyim (2013). Madaarij as-Saalikeen. Al-Mansoorah, Egypt: Maktabah Fiyaadh, p. 987.

    [21] Sahih Muslim, Hadith 60.

    [22] Ibn Taymiyyah. Dar Ta’arud al-ʿAql wal-Naql. Edited by Muhammad Rashad Salim, second edition (Riyadh: Al-Imam University 1991), vol. 8, p. 458.

    [23] There are also some permutations that combine these options but do not significantly impact the trilemma. See, for instance, Tramel, P.(2008). Haack’s foundherentism is a foundationalism. Synthese, 160(2), 215-228.

    [24] See for instance Qur’an 16:3 and 38:27. Also, refer to Ibn Taymiyyah, Naqd al-Mantiq. Dar al-Kotob al-Ilmiyah, Beirut 1999. p131.

    [25] Ibn Taymiyyah, Naqd al-Mantiq. Dar al-Kotob al-Ilmiyah, Beirut 1999,  p. 166.

    [26] Al-Alusi. Ruh al-Ma’ani fi Tafsur al-Qur’an al-Adhim wa Sa’ al-Mathani. Dar Ihya Turath al-Arabi, Beirut n.d. Vol. 25, pp. 141-142.

    [27] Ibn al-Qayyim. (2013). Madaarij as-SaalikeenAl-Mansoorah, Egypt: Maktabah Fiyaadh, p. 720.

    [28] Ibid.

    [29] Clark, K. J., & Barrett, J. L. (2010). Reformed epistemology and the cognitive science of religion. Faith and Philosophy27(2), 174-189.

    [30] Ibid.

    [31] For a more complete examination of the epistemological failings of skepticism, refer to Khan, N. (2017). Shakk – The Epistemology of Doubt. https://spiritualperception.org/shakk-1-the-epistemology-of-doubt/

    [32] Khan N. (2015). The real battle: Meaningful vs meaningless. Accessed on https://spiritualperception.org/the-real-battle-meaningful-vs-meaningless/

    [33] The quiddity (mahiyyah = ma bihi huwa huwa; i.e., that by which something is what it is) of intellect would subsume what is referred to by contemporary philosophers and neuroscientists as the ‘hard problem of consciousness’ famously described by David Chalmers in The Conscious Mind: In Search of a Fundamental Theory (Oxford: Oxford University Press 1996).

    [34] Al-Maturidi. Ta’wilat Ahl al-Sunnah – Tafsir al-Maturidi. Edited by Majdi Muhammad Surur Baslum. Dar al-Kotob al-Ilmiyah 2005. Vol. 7, pp. 26-27.

    [35] Pinker, S. (2008, January 13). The moral instinct. The New York Times. Retrieved from, https://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/13/magazine/13Psychology-t.html 

    [36] Bloom, P. (2013). Just babies: The origins of good and evil. New York, NY: Broadway Books.

    [37] Garner, R. (2011). Morality: The final delusion? Philosophy Now82, 18-20.

    [38] Harris, S. (2011). The moral landscape: How science can determine human values. New York, NY: The Free Press.

    [39] Harris, S. (2014 June 6). Clarifying the landscape: A response to Ryan Born. Retrieved from, https://samharris.org/clarifying-the-landscape 

    [40] Ibid.

    [41] Garner, R. (2011). Morality: The final delusion?

    [42] Hallaq, W. (2009). Groundwork of the moral law: A new look at the Qurʾān and the genesis of Sharīʿa. Islamic Law and Society, 16(3/4), 239-279.

    [43] Pinker, S. (2008, January 13). The moral instinct. The New York Times. Retrieved from, https://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/13/magazine/13Psychology-t.html 

    [44] At-Tabari. Jami’ al-Bayan fee Tafseer al-Quran, Accessed online.

    [45] Pinker, S. (2008, January 13). The moral instinct. The New York Times. Retrieved from, https://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/13/magazine/13Psychology-t.html

    [46] This comes from the name of a character who engages with Socrates in the dialogue written by Plato. Euthyphro tells Socrates that he is attempting to prosecute his father over a crime, to which Socrates responds by interrogating Euthyphro regarding the definition of piety, and he enquires as to what makes a matter good and beloved to the gods.

    [47] Shahrastani, M. (1992). Al-Milal wa Al-Nihal. Beirut, Lebanon: Dar al Kotob Ilmiyya, vol. 1, p. 88.

    [48] The Maturidi approach agreed with Mu’tazilah in epistemology but with the Ash’ari view in ontology. In other words, what determines whether an action is good or bad is nothing other than Divine instruction; however, God has rendered the intellect capable of recognizing the moral value of actions in some matters. Rudolph, U. (2014). Al-Māturīdī and the Development of Sunnī Theology in Samarqand. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, p. 297.

    [49] Pinker, S. (2008, January 13). The moral instinct.

    [50] Ar-Razi, M. (1905) Muhassal Afkaar al-Mutaqaddimeen wa al-Mutakhireen. Cairo, Egypt: Al-Matba’ah Al-Husayniya, p. 148.

    [51] Ibid.

    [52] Johnston, D. (2004). A turn in the epistemology and hermeneutics of twentieth-century usūl al-fiqh. Islamic Law and Society11(2), 233-282.

    [53] Abdul Jabbar, A.H. (2011). Al-Mughni fee Abwaab at-Tawheed wa al-’Adl. Beirut, Lebanon: Dar ul Kutub al-’Ilmiyya, vol. 9, p. 82.

    [54] Ibn Taymiyyah notes that the moral quality of some actions is rationally discernible; however, human accountability for those matters is contingent on receiving guidance from God. On the other hand, there are other matters which have no intrinsic moral quality but only become morally praiseworthy or blameworthy after the Divine command. Ibn Taymiyyah. (2005). Majmu al-Fatawa, Mansoura, Egypt: Dar Al-Wafa, vol. 8, pp 256-7.

    [55] Jawzi, I.Q. (2013). Madaarij as-SaalikeenAl-Mansoorah, Egypt: Maktabah Fiyaadh, p. 197.

    [56] Nursi, S. (2013). The words: The reconstruction of Islamic belief and thought. Clifton, USA: The Light, Inc.,  p. 354.

    [57] Ibid.

    [58] Taymiyyah I. (1986). Minhaj as-Sunnah. Riyaadh, Saudi Arabia: Jami’ Al-Imam Muhammad Bin Sa’ud Al-Islamiyya,  vol. 1, p. 145.

    [59] Ibid., p. 146.

    [60] Taymiyyah, I. (1999). Iqtidaa Seerat al-Mustaqeem. Beirut, Lebanon: Dar ‘Aalim al-Kitab, vol. 2, p. 310.

  • The Origins of the Variant Readings of the Qur’an

    The Origins of the Variant Readings of the Qur’an

    Note

    This article has been updated on June 2nd, 2023.

    Introduction

    The Qur’an is the literal word of God, the sacred scripture of the Islamic faith, and God’s final revelation to humanity. This single text produced the largest and most diverse civilization ever to exist on Earth, and for one and a half millennia it has been recited, memorized, and practiced by billions of human beings across the globe. Entire libraries of books have been devoted to the study of the text’s revelation, preservation, recitation, and interpretation. Yet, one aspect of the Qur’an that continues to astound and puzzle researchers has been the fact that Qur’anic verses are recited in diverse ‘modes of recitation’ (qirāʾāt). These different modes utilize different rules (termed uṣūl) regarding the prolongation, intonation, and pronunciation of words, in addition to differences in the vowelization or letters of particular words in individual passages in the Qur’an (termed farsh). Thus, the words of the Qur’an can be divided into two categories: those words that can only be read one way (which constitute the majority of the Qur’an),[1] and those words that can be read in multiple ways (which constitute the basis of the qirāʾāt).

    The different modes of recitation are named after the most famous early reciter known for teaching that mode, and individuals who master a mode and receive ijāzah (license to teach) in it become part of an unbroken chain of transmission of that mode back to the Prophet ﷺ. While the majority of the Muslim world is accustomed to hearing the Qur’an recited in the mode of ʿĀṣim ibn Abī al-Najūd (d. 127 AH) according to his student Ḥafs ibn Sulaymān (d. 180 AH) (frequently referred to simply as Ḥafṣ ʿan ʿĀṣim), other modes continue to be recited such as that of the Medinan Nāfiʿ (d. 169 AH) (transmitted by his students Qālūn (d. 220 AH) and Warsh (d. 197 AH)), which remains the dominant mode in many regions of North Africa. Specialists in Qur’anic recitation will be familiar with seven or ten canonical modes of recitation.[2] All of these modes of recitation adhere to the muṣḥaf (codex) of the Qur’an compiled under the supervision of the Caliph ʿUthmān (d. 35 AH) in the year 30 AH (650 CE), which was written without diacritics, thus accommodating the variations. The vast majority of these differences are quite subtle, although in certain cases they add nuances in meaning, complementing one another.

    Muslims believe that the Qur’an was taught in different ways during the lifetime of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, known as different aḥruf (plural of ḥarf)—a concept that will be elucidated further below. The famous ten qirāʾāt studied today represent only a limited assortment of the variations that existed prior to the ʿUthmānic codex. There are a number of reported readings that differ from the ʿUthmānic codex and were recited by companions of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ, including ʿAbd Allāh ibn Masʿūd (d. 32 AH), Ibn ʿAbbās (d. 69 AH), ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 40 AH), Ubayy ibn Kaʿb (d. 30 AH), and ʿĀʾishah (d. 58 AH), among others رضي الله عنهم. These variant readings[3] in a select number of verses have historically been recorded in books of qirāʾāt and classical works of tafsīr (commentary on the Qur’an) and occasionally works of jurisprudence and typically relate to the presence of additional explanatory words or word substitutions. Perhaps one of the most fascinating discoveries of the past century has been the study of ancient Qur’anic manuscripts that demonstrate wordings that precisely match those wordings attributed to the companions in the classical tradition (see below).

    The burning questions for both researchers and laity alike are, of course, why the Qur’an happens to be recited differently, and where these differences come from. The prevailing Muslim understanding is quite straightforward: these different readings arose from the instruction of the Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ himself, and constitute a unique feature of the Qur’an that multiplies its eloquence and aesthetic beauty. This traditional narrative shall be elaborated and analyzed in full below. Meanwhile, Western European and American scholarship has experienced considerable debate over the nature of the variant readings and the history of the Qur’anic text. Behnam Sadeghi and Mohsen Goudarzi have categorized the prevailing viewpoints as revisionist, skeptical, and neo-traditionalist.[4] Revisionists, including John Wansbrough, Patricia Crone, and David Powers, believe the Qur’anic text itself was only standardized after ʿUthmān; however, this conclusion requires dismissing the entirety of traditional sources except for a handful of convenient statements—an approach that has been rightly critiqued as “marshaling cherry-picked, decontextualized and misinterpreted reports.”[5] Skeptics remain in doubt concerning both traditional and revisionist narratives. Finally, there are Western scholars who believe the evidence supports key aspects of the traditionalist account, including the historian Michael Cook (a former revisionist) and Harald Motzki.[6] Building upon manuscript evidence from Sadeghi and Goudarzi, in addition to critical analysis of arguments offered by revisionists, Nicolai Sinai has concluded that, given the absence of any compelling evidence to challenge the traditional narrative, and given the presence of considerable data in its support, the default presumption remains the ʿUthmānic recension date of 650 CE or earlier.[7]

    Contemporary Muslim scholarship (both Western and Eastern) has responded to recent manuscript evidence and the output of writings from orientalists by defending traditional narratives surrounding the variant readings or by elaborating modified narratives.[8] Muslim responses have outlined different perspectives on the nature of pre-ʿUthmānic variant readings (those attributed to different companions), ʿUthmānic variants (differences between the regional codices ʿUthmān sent to different cities), and post-ʿUthmānic readings (differences between the qirāʾāt traditions). The present article aims to elucidate the perspective of the Islamic tradition on pre-ʿUthmānic variant readings reported from companions in light of the latest scholarship and to explore some of the questions surrounding the origins of these variant readings.[9]

    The Qur’an during the Prophet’s time

    The revelation of the Qur’an began over fourteen hundred years ago when the Angel Gabriel (Jibrīl in Arabic) came to the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ at the cave of Hirāʾ and commanded him to recite.[10] Angel Gabriel was the Holy Spirit who was trusted by God to deliver the words of revelation to the Prophet ﷺ:

    Say (O Muhammad) Rūh-ul-Qudus [The Holy Spirit] has brought it (the Qur’an) down from your Lord with truth, that it may make firm and strengthen (the faith of) those who believe and as a guidance and glad tidings to those who have submitted (to Allah as Muslims).[11] 

    The Prophet ﷺ learned the recitation of the Qur’an directly from Angel Gabriel. Ibn ʿAbbās narrated that Gabriel used to meet with the Prophet every night in the month of Ramadan to revise the Qur’an with him.[12] Allah commanded the Prophet to recite the Qur’an to people (29:45, 17:106). The Prophet ﷺ recited the Qur’an in various ways as he was commanded by Allah. Among the large number of Muslims were those who had memorized the Qur’an and had learned the recitation of it directly from the Prophet ﷺ. These well-versed reciters (Qurrāʾ) were then instructed by the Prophet to teach others the recitation of the Qur’an.[13]For instance, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ sent seventy Medinan companions who were reciters of the Qur’an to various tribes in the incident of Biʾr Maʿūnah.[14] The sacredness of teaching the Qur’an was captured in the Prophet’s statement, “The best of you are those who learned the Qur’an and taught it (to others).”[15] This practice of teaching the recitation of the Qur’anic text became embedded within the culture and the Qur’an was passed on in the same manner, generation after generation. In addition to this oral transmission, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ had over sixty-five scribes writing down the Qur’an.[16]

    We cannot understand the history of the Qur’an during the Prophetic era without an understanding of the centrality of the Qur’anic recitation and memorization in Muslim ritual practice. Perhaps the most critical fallacy of Western academics who enter the arena of Qur’anic scholarship is that they presume that the Qur’an is like the Old or New Testament and consequently rely solely on manuscripts to construct a picture of its transmission and preservation, neglecting the importance of ritual memorization and oral recitation. Indeed, what percentage of Christians have memorized the entire New Testament in Koine Greek and recite it on a daily basis? Meanwhile, practically every Muslim community in the world boasts plentiful Ḥuffāẓ (singular Ḥāfiẓ): those who have memorized the entire Qur’an by heart in Arabic. The Qur’an is recited out loud in daily congregational prayers and from cover to cover during congregational prayers in Ramadan. This unbroken practice of reciting the Qur’an publicly in daily prayers since the time of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ is one of the reasons why revisionist Western narratives seem so fanciful to Muslim scholars familiar with the lived practice of Islam.

    Did the Prophet ﷺ teach multiple readings?

    The Qur’an was revealed in the Arabic language. Allah said that the Qur’an was revealed “in the clear Arabic tongue” (26:195). However, the early Muslim community contained people of all backgrounds, young and old, those proficient in Arabic and those unlettered, as well as people from different Arab tribes, with different accents and different dialects. Since learning the Qur’an was the primary means by which the Islamic message itself was learned, practiced, and transmitted in the Prophet’s time, it was essential that learning the Qur’an be facilitated for diverse peoples. Thus, the Qur’anic text was recited in different ways (termed aḥruf) during the lifetime of the Prophet ﷺ. There are several authentic reports that support this fact, transmitted through so many chains from the earliest sources[17] that it reaches the level of mutawātir lafẓī (massively transmitted verbatim).[18] 

    Ibn ʿAbbās narrated that the Prophet ﷺ said: “Jibrīl recited the Qur’an to me in one ḥarf. Then I requested him [to read it in another ḥarf] and continued asking him to recite in other aḥruf until he ultimately recited it in seven aḥruf.”[19] In another narration, the Prophet ﷺ says, “‘O Jibrīl! I have been sent to an illiterate nation among whom are the elderly woman, the old man, the boy and the girl, and the man who cannot read a book at all.’ He said: ‘O Muḥammad! Indeed the Qur’an was revealed in seven aḥruf (i.e., seven different ways of reciting).’”[20]

    The early Muslim scholar Ibn Qutaybah (d. 276 AH) said:

    In order for the Muslims to read the Qur’an easily, the Prophet was commanded to teach the Qur’an in accordance with people’s dialects…and if everyone was to abandon their dialect and what they were accustomed to speaking as a child, as a youth and in their old age, this would have imposed great difficulty and hardship on them…Thus, Allah intended for them ease by allowing some flexibility in the language in the multiplicity of readings.[21]

    Thus, the Qur’an was inherently a multiform recitation, with multiple diverse equally valid alternate readings of many verses. This phenomenon was explained explicitly by the Prophet ﷺ himself to the companions, as we see in the famous incident where ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb and Hishām ibn Ḥakīm disagreed in their recitation of Surah Al-Furqān. ʿUmar narrates:

    I heard Hishām ibn Ḥakīm reciting Sūrah Al-Furqān during the lifetime of Allah’s messenger. I listened to his recitation and noticed that he recited in several different ways which the Prophet had not taught me. I was about to jump over him during his prayer, but I was able to contain myself, and when he had completed his prayer, I put his upper garment around his neck and seized him by it and said, “Who taught you this Sūrah which I heard you reciting?” He replied, “The Prophet taught it to me.” I said, “You are wrong, for the Prophet has taught it to me in a different way from yours.”

    So I took him to Allah’s Messenger and said “O Messenger of Allah, I heard this individual reciting Sūrah Al-Furqān in a way that you did not teach me, and you have taught me Sūrah Al-Furqān.”

    The Prophet said, “O Hishām, recite!” So he recited in the same way as I heard him recite it before. On that Allah’s Messenger ﷺ said, “It was revealed to be recited in this way.” Then Allah’s Messenger ﷺ said, “Recite, O ʿUmar!” So I recited it as he had taught me. Allah’s Messenger ﷺ then said, “It was revealed to be recited in this way.” Allah’s Apostle added, “This Qur’an has been revealed to be recited in seven different aḥruf, so recite it whichever way is easier for you.”[22]

    This narration provides explicit proof that the two different readings were taught by the Prophet ﷺ and that it was the Prophet himself who instructed each companion to recite it in the precise manner in which they did.

    The nature of the aḥruf

    Muslim scholars discussed the meaning of the seven aḥruf. However, they differed in defining the meaning of these seven aḥruf and whether or not those “seven” were intended to be interpreted metaphorically (to indicate multiplicity) or literally.[23] The purpose of this article is not to recapitulate the discussion of the diverse opinions, which is already available in numerous works in Arabic[24] and English.[25]

    The viewpoint espoused and elaborated in this article is one that enjoys the support of a vast majority of specialists in Qur’anic sciences, and that is that aḥruf can be explained simply as ways of varying. For example, the difference in words manifests in the following ways:

    • Singularity, duality, plurality, masculinity, and femininity.
    • Taṣrīf al-Afʿāl (Verbal Morphology)—verb tense, form, grammatical person.
    • Iʿrāb (grammatical case endings).
    • Omission, substitution, or addition of words.
    • Word order.
    • Ibdāl (alternation between two consonants or between words).

    This list of different types of Qur’anic variants was mentioned by Abū al-Faḍl al-Rāzī (d. 454 AH).[26] Among the many scholars who adopt this opinion are Ibn Qutaybah (d. 276 AH), al-Zarkashī (d. 794 AH), and Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 833 AH). Of course, these scholars differed over the precise categorization of differences and which categories to combine or split in the list of aḥruf. Therefore, it is best not to present such a list as an exclusive or exhaustive categorization but rather to use it simply as potential examples. The proposed examples of variation include phonetic, morphological, syntactic, and semantic variation. Furthermore, one must examine all the qirāʾāt (alternative readings of Qur’an) including non-canonical (shawādh)  qirāʾāt[27] when attempting to explain the exact meaning of the seven aḥruf. Thus, one can say that the seven aḥruf are all the categories of variation to which the differences found within qirāʾāt correspond. In other words, they represent a menu of ingredients from which each qirāʾah selects its profile.

    Having said that, we can now examine the beginning of Sūrah al-Furqān in which ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb and Hishām ibn Ḥakīm disagreed on the reading of certain verses. We know that they both recited the verses differently but we don’t know exactly what those differences were. Although the canonical qirāʾāt contain no significant differences in the first verse of Sūrat al-Furqān (Qur’anic chapter 25), there are some non-canonical readings in the first verse which may provide some clues to unveil the mystery of the disagreement between ʿUmar and Hishām in Sūrat al-Furqān; these are provided in the table below.[28] In his explanation of this very narration, the scholar Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr (d. 463 AH) also examined different readings of Sūrat al-Furqān to provide insight into the nature of the difference between these two companions’ readings.[29] The examples listed below of different readings also help illustrate the different categories of how the aḥruf vary.

    The reading of the ṣaḥābah (companions of the Prophet) was not unified during the lifetime of the Prophet ﷺ. There were differences in the way they recited the Qur’an. This was due to the license of the seven aḥruf as they were taught different readings by the Prophet himself. When the ṣaḥābah disagreed on the reading of certain verses, they sought the guidance of the Prophet ﷺ. The Prophet would listen to each party and he would give his approval of these variants as being divine. This was reported in the previously mentioned incident of ʿUmar with Hishām in addition to several other recorded incidents. The reports of the seven aḥruf clearly indicate that the ṣaḥābah read precisely as they were taught by the Prophet ﷺ.

    Ibn Masʿūd narrated a similar incident when he had a disagreement with another companion in reading the Qur’an. The Prophet ﷺ was displeased and he commanded the Muslims to recite the Qur’an according to the ways they were taught.[30] Ibn ʿAbbās reported that the Prophet ﷺ used to teach them tashahhud as he would teach them a sūrah of the Qur’an.[31]

    ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb said that the reading of the Qur’an is Sunnah and it is transmitted by the first generation to later generations.[32] In other words, one must have learned directly from the Prophet ﷺ or from him through his students and successors. There was nothing left to the discretion of the individual in this regard; it was necessary to recite precisely as one learned.

    Codices of companions

    The aforementioned diversity in reciting the Qur’an did not pose a problem during the lifetime of the Prophet ﷺ as the companions became accustomed to the concept of seven aḥruf and diverse modes of recitation. The Prophet ﷺ sent different companions to teach the Qur’an to different tribes and communities and the different readings were transmitted. However, as Islam spread to distant lands, disputes began to arise between Muslims reciting according to different modes and dialects and it was precisely this emerging confusion that led the Caliph ‘Uthmān to compile and distribute a copy of the Qur’an to eliminate such confusion.

    Hudhayfah ibn al-Yamān came to ʿUthmān at the time when the people of Shām and the people of ʿIrāq were waging war to conquer Armenia and Azerbaijan. Hudhayfah was afraid of their (the people of Shām and Irāq) differences in the recitation of the Qur’an, so he said to ʿUthmān, “O chief of the Believers! Save this nation before they differ about the Book (Qur’an) as Jews and the Christians did before.” So ʿUthmān sent a message to Ḥafṣah saying, “Send us the manuscripts of the Qur’an so that we may compile the Qur’anic materials in perfect copies and return the manuscripts to you.” Ḥafṣah sent it to ʿUthmān. ʿUthmān then ordered Zayd ibn Thābit, ʿAbd Allāh ibn al-Zubayr, Saʿīd ibn al-ʿĀṣ and ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ibn Ḥārith ibn Hishām to rewrite the manuscripts in perfect copies. ʿUthmān said to the three Qurayshī men, “In case you disagree with Zayd ibn Thābit on any point in the Qur’an, then write it in the dialect of Quraysh, the Qur’an was revealed in their tongue.” They did so, and when they had written many copies, ʿUthmān returned the original manuscripts to Ḥafṣah. ʿUthmān sent to every Muslim province one copy of what they had copied, and ordered that all the other Qur’anic materials, whether written in fragmentary manuscripts or whole copies, be burnt.[33]

    During the caliphate of ʿUthmān, the codex of the Qur’an was compiled by a designated committee led by Zayd ibn Thābit (d. 45 AH) and was subsequently copied and sent throughout the Muslim world. ʿUthmān ordered all other written copies of the Qur’an to be destroyed or corrected.[34] However, in some regions of the Muslim world, it seems the transition to the ʿUthmānic codex took time, particularly in Kūfah owing to the massive influence of ʿAbd Allāh ibn Masʿūd.[35] The early scholar al-Aʿmash (d. 148 AH) is reported to have said, “I reached Kūfah, and the reading of Zayd was not with them except as the reading of ʿAbd Allāh is with you today: no one recited it except for one or two people.”[36]

    When reading classical works of tafsīr, it is common to encounter narrations that mention that a particular verse was recited differently by a companion (most often ʿAbd Allāh ibn Masʿūd), typically with a word substitution, addition, or omission. A number of these variant readings are readily encountered in the canonical books of Hadith and a few are mentioned in Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī. For instance, when ʿAlqamah ibn Qays (d. 62 AH) traveled to Greater Syria, he met the companion Abū al-Dardāʾ, and the latter asked ʿAlqamah about how Ibn Masʿūd recited Sūrat al-Layl; ʿAlqamah responded that Ibn Masʿūd recited verse 3 as “wa-al-dhakari wa-al-unthá” (and by the male and the female) instead of “wa mā khalaqa al-dhakara wa-al-unthá” (and by that which created the male and the female), whereupon Abū al-Dardāʾ testified that he had learned the verse in the same way from the Prophet ﷺ.[37] This variant is said to represent one of the aḥruf in the recitation of the Qur’an that was no longer recited after the codex of ʿUthmān was established. Similarly, a narration records that Ibn ʿAbbās would recite 18:79-80 as “wa kāna amāmahum malikun yaʾkhudhu kulla safīnatin ṣāliḥatin ghaṣbā. Wa ammā al-ghulāmu fa kāna kāfiran” (translation: and there was ahead of them a king seizing every boat in good condition by force; as for the boy, then he was a disbeliever), thus containing three lexical differences from the ʿUthmānic codex.[38] Another narration records an additional phrase mentioned by Ibn ʿAbbās after 26:214: “wa andhir ʿashīrataka al-aqrabīn, wa rahṭaka minhum al-mukhlaṣīn” (translation: and admonish your nearest kinsmen and your exclusive tribesmen).[39] The understanding of these variants will be elucidated in detail in the following section.

    How many variant readings of companions are there that differ from the ʿUthmānic codex?

    Many who write on this subject simply cite a few instances of variants without giving any sense of proportion or frequency; a systematic study requires evaluating all the transmitted material. In a comprehensive study of the primary sources undertaken by Muḥammad ʿAbd al-Raḥmān at-Ṭāsān,[40] the author notes a total of 592 instances where a companion’s reading of a verse has been narrated. Of these narrations, 52 are identical to the ʿUthmānic codex, while the remaining 540 are variant readings which differ from the ʿUthmānic codex, thus termed shādhdh. However, of those 540 instances, only 177 are found with a chain of transmission (isnād), and of those with a chain, only 20 are classified as authentic by hadith standards.[41] Thus, the actual quantity of variants traceable to the companions is significantly smaller than may initially be supposed.[42] 

    Of particular interest is that studies of ancient manuscripts of the Qur’an have demonstrated the incredible precision and accuracy of the Muslim tradition in faithfully transmitting these variants in circulation amongst the earliest Muslim community. The Ṣanʿāʾ palimpsest is a manuscript where the original writing (termed the lower text) was erased and written over (the upper text), although contents from the undertext can be revealed using ultraviolet light, and when studied demonstrates numerous variants ascribed to companions in the Muslim tradition.[43] Thus, the Muslim tradition erred on the side of caution in preserving and documenting a larger volume of reported variants beyond what was established exclusively through authentic chains of transmission.

    Did the Ṣahābah have muṣḥafs containing variant readings?

    In his famous work entitled Kitāb al-Maṣāḥif, Ibn Abī Dāwūd (d. 316 AH) has a chapter on the differences between the codices of companions (bāb ikhtilāf maṣāḥif al-ṣahābah) which he begins by explaining his terminology: “We only say the codex of so-and-so (muṣḥaf fulān) for that which differs from our codex (muṣḥaf) in writing, by addition or subtraction. This is what I have taken from my father,[44] who followed the same practice in his work Kitāb al-Tanzīl.”[45] He then proceeds to list narrations of variant readings from companions under chapter titles, “muṣḥaf ʿUmar,” “muṣḥaf ʿAlī,” “muṣḥaf Ibn Masʿūd,” and so on. This terminology may lead to confusion, as the narrations mention that these companions were simply heard reciting a verse in that reading, not that they possessed a physical codex that had the verse written in that reading. As al-Ṭāsān demonstrates, these readings attributed to the companions were initially simply referred to as qirā’ah Ibn Masʿūd or ḥarf Ibn Masʿūd, but later came to be referred to as muṣḥaf Ibn Masʿūd.[46] In the case of many companions, there is no evidence that a personal codex with exclusively variant readings ever existed.[47] Moreover, the early bibliographer Ibn al-Nadīm (d. 380 AH) noted that he personally came across many early muṣḥafs attributed to Ibn Masʿūd but was unable to find any two in agreement (laysa fīhā muṣḥafayn muttafiqayn).[48] Muhammad Mustafa al-Aʿzami comments:

    The divergent nature of the many ‘Muṣḥafs of Ibn Masʿūd’ that materialized after his death, with no two in agreement, shows that the wholesale ascription of these to him is erroneous, and the scholars who did so neglected to examine their sources well. Sadly the less scrupulous among antique dealers found it profitable, for the weight of a few silver pieces, to add fake Muṣḥafs of Ibn Masʿūd or Ubayy to their wares.[49]

    It is essential, therefore, to take the attribution of such readings to the companions and to personal codices with a grain of salt, as there is little that is verifiable in such reports.

    Did these codices contain chapter differences?

    Scholars have discussed a number of reports which indicate the absence of Sūrah al-Fātiḥah and al-Mūʿawwidhatayn (chapters 113 and 114) in Ibn Masʿūd’s codex and whether this implies that he did not believe them to be from the Qur’an.[50] For instance, ʿAbd al-Raḥmān ibn Yazīd al-Nakhaʿī (d. 93 AH) states, “I saw ʿAbdullah [ibn Masʿūd] scrape (i.e. erase) al-Muʿawwidhatayn from the muṣḥaf and say, ‘They are not from the Book of Allah’.”[51] Amongst Muslim scholars, there are differing views with respect to addressing these narrations. Some scholars rejected them as inauthentic, while other scholars considered them authentic while excusing Ibn Masʿūd for not being aware.[52]

    The first group of scholars, including al-Bāqillānī (d. 403 AH), Ibn Ḥazm (d. 456 AH), Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī (d. 606 AH), al-Nawawī (d. 676 AH), and others, rejected these narrations as inauthentic. Fakhr al-Dīn Al-Rāzī pointed to the mass transmission (tawātur) of these chapters which makes it inconceivable that Ibn Masʿūd could dispute their status.[53] Similarly, al-Nawawī emphasized the unanimous consensus of the Muslim community on the status of these chapters, and that what has been related from Ibn Masʿūd is false and not authentically established.[54] Ibn Ḥazm declared this to be a fabrication against Ibn Masʿūd and one that contradicts the fact that all the canonical readings contain al-Fātiḥah and al-Muʿawwidhatayn, including the reading of ʿĀṣim which is partly transmitted from Zirr ibn Ḥubaysh from Ibn Masʿūd.[55] 

    In a lengthy chapter in his al-Intiṣār, al-Bāqillānī advances several considerations to render these narrations logically implausible.[56] There is no record of any companions directly criticizing Ibn Masʿūd for such a controversial view.[57] Moreover, numerous narrations from the Prophet indicate that al-Muʿawwidhatayn are part of the Qur’an.[58] Al-Bāqillānī also suggests that there may have been a misunderstanding as to why Ibn Masʿūd did not write these chapters in his muṣḥaf. It is possible he wished to only write down what he witnessed the Prophet instruct the Muslims to write down. It is also plausible that Ibn Masʿūd chose not to write down al-Fātiḥa and al-Muʿawwidhatayn because they are recited daily and known to every Muslim.[59] 

    Indeed, al-Fātiḥah is the most recited chapter of the entire Qur’an, being a component of every unit of prayer and thus recited a minimum of seventeen times a day. Any dispute about its Qur’anic status would have created a massive disruption to daily worship.[60] Ibn Masʿūd himself alluded to this in one narration. When asked why he didn’t write al-Fātiḥah in his muṣḥaf, he stated that were he to write it, he would have written it with every single chapter of the Qur’an.[61] Concerning this statement, Abū Bakr ibn al-Anbārī (d. 328 AH) explained, “He means that the way of recitation in every unit of prayer (rakʿah) is to start with al-Fātiḥah before reciting another sūrah, so [it is as though Ibn Masʿūd] said ‘For brevity, I have sufficed with omitting it and have entrusted it to the Muslims’ preservation/memorization of it.”[62] Ibn ʿAbd al-Kāfī (fl. 400 AH) considered the case of al-muʿawwidhatayn as analogous to al-Fātiḥah in Ibn Masʿūd’s muṣḥaf; he wrote:

    “He did not place it (i.e. al-Fātiḥah) in his muṣḥaf because he was not concerned about it being lost due to its shuhra (well-known status) and it being frequently recited during prayer and otherwise. And so in the same manner, he did not place the muʿawwidhatayn in his muṣḥaf, finding no need to do so due to their shuhrah and being frequently recited.[63]

    Similarly, al-Māzirī (d. 536 AH) explained, “It can be understood from what is related regarding the omission of al-muʿawwidhatayn from the muṣḥaf of Ibn Masʿūd that he did not consider it required for him to include all the Qur’an, and he wrote that which was other than these two and left them due to their shuhrah (well-known status) with him and with the people.”[64]

    The reality is that the ṣaḥābah used their writings of the Qur’an as memory aids for personal worship and recitation, and consequently never intended them as complete official copies of the Qur’an. Thus, al-Zarqānī (d. 1367 AH) writes:

    Sometimes the author of a muṣḥaf would leave out a sūrah due to its popularity (shuhrah) and its not needing to be written down due to this popularity (i.e., it was common knowledge), as has been related about Ibn Masʿūd’s muṣḥaf not containing al-Fātiḥah. And sometimes the author of the muṣḥaf would write what he saw himself needing to include from other than the Qur’an in the same muṣḥaf as has preceded regarding al-qunūt al-ḥanafiyyah which it is reported that some of the companions included in their muṣḥaf and named sūrah al-khalʿ wa al-ḥafd.[65]

    The second group of scholars accepted the aforementioned narrations concerning Ibn Masʿūd and al-muʿawwidhatayn as authentic. They considered this to be an erroneous position that was excusable on his part due to being uninformed about their status. Sufyān ibn ʿUyaynah (d. 198 AH) states:

    “[Ibn Masʿūd] used to see the Prophet use these invocations for al-Ḥasan and al-Ḥusayn and he never heard him recite them in his prayers so he presumed they were simply invocations and remained on this assumption. Meanwhile, others verified that they were in fact from the Qur’an and included them within the text of the codex.[66]

    Similarly, Ibn Qutayba (d. 276 AH) states that Ibn Masʿūd thought that al-muʿawwidhatayn were a supplication that the Prophet taught akin to other invocations which were not part of the Qur’an.[67] Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī (d. 852 AH) also held these narrations to be authentic; although the Qur’anic status of these chapters was mutawātir (mass transmitted) in general, this may not have been the case for Ibn Masʿūd who therefore cautiously refrained from declaring them to be chapters of the Qur’an.[68] Ibn Taymiyyah (d. 728 AH) writes:

    Some of them [i.e. the companions] used to erase al-muʿawwidhatayn while others would write [as a Qur’anic chapter] al-Qunūt. And this is a mistake that is known by unanimous consensus (ijmāʿ) and mass transmission (al-naql al-mutawātir). In spite of this, so long as this knowledge was not mass transmitted to them [i.e. these companions], they would not have committed disbelief, even though it would be disbelief for someone upon whom the evidence was established by mass transmission.[69]

    The contemporary scholar al-Ṭāsān supports this conclusion.[70] Ibn Kathīr (d. 773 AH) states that Ibn Masʿūd perhaps did not hear them from the Prophet or they were not mass transmitted to him, and he may have corrected himself on this point and revised his position later in life.[71] ʿAlī al-Jaʿfarī distinguishes between Ibn Masʿūd’s position towards al-Fātiḥa (which Ibn Masʿūd accepted as a chapter of the Qur’an but refrained from writing since it was widely known) and his position towards al-muʿawwidhatayn (which Ibn Masʿūd erroneously considered Divinely revealed non-Qur’anic invocations);[72] al-Jaʿfarī also notes that Ibn Masʿūd’s own students did not adopt this position.[73] As the ʿUthmānic codex became widely disseminated, no such disagreement remained.

    How do we view the variants reported from Companions?

    We now arrive at the interesting question of how variant readings from ṣaḥābah (i.e., those which differ from the ʿUthmānic codex) are to be understood theologically, from within the Muslim tradition. Did God speak all of these readings and did Jibrīl recite all of them to Muhammad ﷺ? Are they all considered ‘Qur’an’? Do they all exhibit the miraculous Qur’anic inimitability? Is it permissible to recite them in prayer?

    In order to address these questions, let us first distinguish between two concepts: qirāʾah bi-al-talaqqī (recitation based on direct learning) and qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā (recitation based on paraphrasing the meaning). We believe that the companions’ recitation of the Qur’an was based on the former concept—they took great care to recite the Qur’an exactly as they heard it from the Prophet ﷺ, and when a reciter erred in doing so, he would be corrected by others. We will return later to the opposing concept of qirāʾah bi-al-ma’nā. For now, based on qirāʾah bi-al-talaqqī, there are three possible explanations for a variant reading of a verse authentically established from a companion that differs from what we find in the ʿUthmānic codex:

    1. Abrogated ḥarf
    2. Abandoned ḥarf
    3. Non-Qur’anic tafsīr recital

    We will explain these in turn.

    Abrogated ḥarf

    The concept of Qur’anic abrogation is established in the Qur’an itself in the verse: “We do not abrogate a verse or cause it to be forgotten except that We bring forth [one] better than it or similar to it. Do you not know that Allah is over all things competent?” (Qur’an 2:106). Abrogation may pertain to the legal ruling of a verse, whereby an instruction provided in an initial verse is known to no longer be applicable or effective following the revelation of a later abrogating verse (nāsikh).[74] Alternatively, abrogation can pertain to the recitation of a verse, whereby it is no longer recited as part of the Qur’an, despite being initially revealed by Allah. It was narrated that ʿĀʾishah said: “One of the things that Allah revealed in the Qur’an and then abrogated was that nothing makes marriage prohibited except ten breastfeedings or five well-known (breastfeedings).”[75]

    Likewise, another companion al-Barāʾ ibn ʿĀzib mentioned about verse 2:238: “This verse was initially revealed as ‘Guard the prayers and the ʿAṣr prayer.’ We recited it thus for as long as Allah willed. Then Allah abrogated it and it was revealed: ‘Guard the prayers and the middle prayer.’”[76]

    The earliest Muslim community was thus exposed to some Qur’anic recitation that Allah in His infinite Divine Wisdom excluded from the composition of the Qur’an that would be recited until the end of time; i.e., the Qur’an was revealed with extra passages no longer found in it today. How then was the exact composition of the Qur’an determined, considering also that verses and sūrahs were revealed in a different order? Every year, the Angel Jibrīl would review the recitation of the Qur’an with the Prophet Muhammad during the month of Ramadan—“Gabriel used to meet him every night during Ramadan to revise the Qur’an with him,”[77] and “Gabriel used to repeat the recitation of the Qur’an with the Prophet ﷺ once a year, but he repeated it twice with him in the year he died.”[78]

    According to many scholars, it was during this ‘final review’ (in Arabic called al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah) in the last year of the Prophet’s life that the wording of the Qur’an was finalized and much of the variants in the aḥruf were abrogated and excluded from the final recitation.[79] The companion Samurah (d. 54 AH) said, “The Qur’an was reviewed with the Prophet several times. So they say that our qirāʾah is al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah.”[80] The early scholar Muḥammad ibn Sīrīn (d. 110 AH) mentioned the understanding that the ʿUthmānic codex was in conformity with what was recited in al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah.[81] Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 833 AH) stated, “And the maṣāḥif were written according to the wording that was confirmed in the final review from the Messenger of Allah as was explicitly stated from more than one of the Imams of the salaf such as Muḥammad ibn Sīrīn, ʿUbaydah al-Salmānī, and ʿĀmir al-Shaʿbī.”[82] 

    How was it known what the Prophet ﷺ recited with Jibrīl? The Prophet would have instructed his companions accordingly after the final review with Jibrīl. Scholars speak of specific companions who ‘attended’ the final review, in the sense that the companion reviewed the entire Qur’an with the Prophet after he recited with Jibrīl, not that they were physically present while the Prophet was reciting to Jibrīl.[83] al-Baghawī (d. 516 AH) states:

    It is said that Zayd ibn Thābit attended the final review in which it was clarified what was abrogated and what remained.

    Abū ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Sulamī said, “Zayd recited the Qur’an twice to the Prophet during the year in which he passed away, and this recitation is called the qirāʾah of Zayd because he transcribed it for the Prophet and recited it to him and witnessed al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah, and he taught its recitation to people until he passed away. That is why Abū Bakr and ʿUmar relied upon him in its compilation and ʿUthmān appointed him in charge of writing the maṣāḥif—may God be pleased with them all.”[84]

    However, there is no definitive proof about who, if anyone, actually attended the final review with the Prophet ﷺ. Other scholars simply stated that the reading of Zayd was the one confirmed by al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah.[85] Ibn Taymīyah (d. 728 AH) wrote, “And the final review is the qirāʾah of Zayd ibn Thābit and others, and it is the one that the rightly-guided caliphs—Abū Bakr, ʿUmar, ʿUthmān, and ʿAlī—instructed to be written in the maṣāḥif.”[86]

    Nonetheless, the idea that the variant readings from Ibn Masʿūd and Ubayy ibn Kaʿb represent a ḥarf that was originally revealed but subsequently abrogated does not seem to square with the fact that Muslims in the subsequent generation continued to recite according to the ḥarf of Ibn Masʿūd at least in Kūfah, as reported by al-Aʿmash and others. Moreover, abrogation is generally considered a matter that must be decisively established by an injunction from God and His Messenger. Proponents of the abrogation view may counter that the knowledge of its abrogation was not widely known and may have escaped some amongst the companions and the subsequent generation.

    Abandoned ḥarf

    The second explanation for the existence of these diverse variants from companions also sees them as having come from a ḥarf originally revealed as part of the Qur’an. However, when ʿUthmān compiled the codex it was not necessary for him to include every single ḥarf revealed and so it was left out and eventually became extinct. Indeed, for most reported variants we have no mention that they were abrogated, but simply that they were no longer being recited except by the companion to whom they are attributed. This is seen, for instance, in the previously discussed example of Ibn Masʿūd’s reading of 92:3.[87] 

    Many scholars were of the view that the ʿUthmānic codex left out some or all of the other aḥruf because the intention was to reduce the disagreement amongst Muslims.[88] Since the other readings were intended only as a concession, this has no bearing on the preservation of the Qur’an, which can be recited according to any ḥarf. Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, for example, explicitly argues that the ʿUthmānic codex was based on one ḥarf because the diverse readings were a concession (rukhṣah) and therefore it wasn’t an obligation for Muslims to learn and transmit them all.[89] The opinion that the ʿUthmānic muṣḥaf selected one ḥarf was also the view of al-Naḥḥās (d. 338 AH),[90]  Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr (d. 463 AH),[91] al-Abyārī (d. 616 AH),[92] Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751 AH),[93] and many other scholars.[94] However, Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 437 AH),[95] Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 833 AH),[96] Ibn Ḥajar (d. 852 AH) and other scholars explained that what remained after the ʿUthmānic compilation were the differences from the other aḥruf that could still be accommodated by the skeletal text of the ʿUthmānic codices; so what remained were “some of the differences of the aḥruf, not all of them”.[97] Ibn Ḥajar cites Abū al-ʿAbbās ibn ʿAmmār al-Mahdawī (d. 430 AH) who states, “The most correct position which is upheld by the experts is that what is recited now are some of [the differences] of the seven ḥurūf which were permitted to be recited and not all of them.”[98] The remnants of the aḥruf are thus found amongst the various qirāʾāt recited today, while those aḥruf that did not conform to the ʿUthmānic codex were abandoned.[99]

    In reality, the view that the variant readings were abandoned is practically very similar to the view that they were abrogated. It entails that the variant reading was revealed by God, yet because God did not intend for it to be included in the final Qur’an, it became abandoned as per the Divine Decree (qadar) of God. One can say that here abrogation is seen as effectively taking place by God’s Divine Will (irādah kawnīyah) rather than an explicit revealed instruction (irādah sharʿīyah). Divine Will has effectively excluded those variant readings from the muṣḥaf of this ummah, and since history is intended by God, then the Qur’an we have in our hands today is exactly the Qur’an that God wanted us to have, and the loss of variations that did not make it into the muṣḥaf was also intended by God. What the Muslim ummah would collectively agree upon (ijmāʿ), recite, and practice was included in the foreknowledge of God prior to the creation of the universe.

    With the passage of time, some variant readings were effectively ruled extinct by Allah’s Divine Decree concerning the consensus of the community, just as if such readings were abrogated by legislation—and this is precisely what some scholars said. Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib (d. 437 AH) wrote, “As for what it is in our hands of the Qur’an, it is that which conforms to the script of that (ʿUthmānic) muṣḥaf, from those qirāʾāt with which the Qur’an was revealed, and upon which the community unanimously agreed. No longer practiced are those qirāʾāt that differ from the script of the muṣḥaf. So it is as if they were abrogated by the consensus upon the script of the muṣḥaf.”[100]

    Non-Qur’anic recital

    Many scholars held the view that variant readings reported by companions were often nothing more than a companion’s method of explaining the verse by simplifying the language, adding an explanatory phrase, or substituting a word for a more familiar one. Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī (d. 404 AH) states, “From amongst them (i.e., the companions) were those who would recite interpretation (taʾwīl) alongside revelation (tanzīl).”[101] This has been termed qirāʾāt tafsīrīyah (exegetical recitations). Abū Ḥayyān al-Andalūsī was of the view that whatever was in conflict with the script of the muṣḥaf was in reality tafsīr, not Qur’anic recitation.[102] Imam al-Tirmidhī comments on a hadith with an added phrase after the verse by saying, “This appears to be a statement of Ibn ʿAbbās (i.e., rather than a variant reading).”[103]

    Imām al-Nawawī (d. 676 AH) writes (quoting al-Māzirī (d. 536 AH)):

    As for Ibn Masʿūd then much has been narrated from him including that which is not reliably established according to the people of transmission. And that which is established which differs from what we say (i.e., recite in our muṣḥaf), then it is interpreted to mean that he wrote in his muṣḥaf some rulings and tafsīr which he believed to not be Qur’an, and he did not believe that to be impermissible as he saw it as a parchment upon which to write what he willed. While ʿUthmān and the community deemed that to be prohibited lest with the passage of time it be assumed to be Qur’an. al-Māzirī said: So the disagreement goes back to a jurisprudential matter (masʾalah fiqhīyah) and that is whether it is allowed to include commentary interspersed in the muṣḥaf.[104]

    Similarly, Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 833 AH) writes, “It was possible that they (i.e., the companions) would include tafsīr in the qirāʾāh, as clarification and elucidation (īḍāḥan wa bayānan). This is because they were well-versed in what they had learned directly from the Prophet ﷺ as Qur’an, so they were secure from confusing between them. And it was possible that some of them would write it (i.e., tafsīr) alongside it (i.e., Qur’an).”[105] 

    Many early authorities explicitly considered this to be the explanation for variant readings reported by companions. Abū Bakr ibn al-Anbārī (d. 328 AH) wrote, “As for what is transmitted from the companions or the successors that they recited in this or that manner, that is only from the angle of explanation and clarification (innamā dhālika ʿalā jihatil bayān wa at-tafsīr), not that it was Qur’an being recited.”[106] Abū Jaʿfar al-Naḥḥās (d. 338 AH) wrote, “It is related from Ibn ʿAbbās, ‘And the middle prayer (is) the ʿaṣr prayer.’ And this recitation is a tafsīr since it is an addition to what is in the muṣḥaf.”[107] Furthermore, it is related that ʿAmr ibn Dīnār (d. 126 AH) heard ʿAbd Allāh ibn al-Zubayr recite 3:104 with an additional phrase “and they seek Allah’s help on that which befalls them”; ʿAmr ibn Dīnār said, “And I do not know whether it was his qirāʾah or he was doing tafsīr.”[108] Thus, sometimes those who heard companions recite on rare occasions with a variant reading may have been unsure whether they were reading a non-ʿUthmānic ḥarf or whether it was tafsīr.

    Perhaps one of the strongest pieces of evidence in favor of the Qirāʾāt tafsīrīyah viewpoint is simply an empirical examination of the wording found in many of the reported variant readings from the companions. In a survey of several readings attributed to ʿAbd Allāh ibn Masʿūd, one author compared them with the vocabulary used in other relevant passages. The Qur’an uses al-mashy for human movement on the earth, while Ibn Masʿūd’s variant replaces 2:20 with maḍaw fīh. Likewise, the variant reading from Ibn Masʿūd of verse 1:6 replaces hidāyah (guidance) with its near-synonym irshād as follows: “arshidnā al-ṣirāṭ al-mustaqīm” instead of “ihdinā al-ṣirāṭ al-mustaqīm.” However, the word hidāyah and its derivatives are associated with the path in 23 other places in the Qur’an and the straight path in 18, while the word rushd is associated with none and a linguistic analysis of the meanings of the words demonstrates the greater suitability of the word hidāyah. Thus, the author writes, “So it is possible to say that the recitation arshidnā aṣ-ṣirāt al-mustaqīm is not a recitation but rather it is tafsīr, and that is based on an examination of the Qur’anic expressions in its usage of words given that it does not use irshād with the word ṣirāt in contrast to hidāyah.”[109] Thus, Ibn Masʿūd’s variant readings almost invariably seem to substitute Qur’anic terminology with easier to understand near-synonyms or add additional explanatory words that are at variance with the Qur’an’s usual style. This seems to represent a strange coincidence but becomes readily explicable when considered to be qirāʾāt tafsīrīyah. The observation that these variant readings serve an exegetical function did not escape the earliest of scholars—one of the most powerful evidences in favor of this viewpoint is the fact that the student of Ibn ʿAbbās, Mujāhid ibn Jabr al-Makhzūmī (d. 103 AH) stated, “Had I read the qirāʾah of Ibn Masʿūd, I would not have needed to ask Ibn ʿAbbās about much of the Qur’an which I asked about.”[110]

    Although this view terms such variant readings as qirāʾāt tafsīrīyah, it should be noted that the non-Qur’anic wording added or substituted by companions in their recital need not always have been strictly for tafsīr. Rather, it would sometimes be word alterations to facilitate pronunciation or memorization. In one incident, Ibn Masʿūd was trying to teach a man to recite verse 44:44, “food of the sinful (ṭaʿāmu al-athīm)” but the man kept repeating “food of the orphan (ṭaʿāmu al-yatīm).” When the man was unable to recite the correct word after multiple attempts, Ibn Masʿūd told him to recite instead using a near-synonym “food of the disobedient (ṭaʿām al-fājir).”[111] If others learned this same “easy version” of the verse, it would be evident that this was not what Ibn Masʿūd believed the actual wording of the Qur’anic verse to be, but rather an alternate reading for the sake of facilitation (taysīr). Al-Qurṭubī (d. 676 AH) explained that this by no means entails that one can substitute words from the Qur’an as one may ignorantly presume, but rather this was a means for ʿAbdullah ibn Masʿūd to make things easier for the student.[112] Al-Māwardī (d. 450 AH) states that Ibn Masʿūd’s intention was to indicate the meaning of the word so that the learner would understand the correct word to recite.[113]

    Evaluation of the aforementioned explanations

    The explanation which single-handedly appears to encompass all the evidence most easily is the second explanation: that non-ʿUthmānic readings were simply abandoned by the overwhelming consensus and practice of the community. However, in comparing the aforementioned three possibilities, it also becomes apparent that there is no reason why they should be considered mutually exclusive. That is, it is certainly possible that some variant readings were simply tafsīr (such as the word substitutions from Ibn Masʿūd, which clearly differ from Qur’anic style), while other variant readings were revealed Qur’anic aḥruf that subsequently were either abrogated (as al-Barā’ ibn ʿĀzib said for 2:238) or were abandoned following the ʿUthmānic recension (as Abū al-Dardāʾ suggested for 92:3). Abrogation of a reading could have occurred at any point in the Prophet’s life, as there is nothing to definitively establish the theory that al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah itself was a means of abrogating readings. The contemporary scholar Mufti Taqī Uthmanī notes the following five possibilities with respect to shādhdh qirāʾāt:[114]

    1. The reading was an innovation or fabrication.
    2. The reading has not been reliably transmitted.
    3. The reading represents the addition of explanatory words.
    4. The reading was abrogated in the final days of the Prophet’s life and known to be abrogated by the majority of companions, but an individual companion who was unaware may have continued to recite it as he learned it.
    5. The reading was actually a mistake made by a successor in his recitation but the listener thought it was a variant reading and transmitted it as such.

    There is overlap between these possibilities and the scenarios discussed in detail above, and each of them appears to plausibly account for at least some of the reported variants. In the estimation of the authors of this paper, this appears to be the most reasonable conclusion on this matter.

    What was the scope of the concession?

    Scholars differed concerning the extent of flexibility granted to the early Muslim community to recite the Qur’an in different ways. Was there a requirement for every variant to be transmitted from the Prophet, or was there a concession for Muslims to recite the approximate meaning, paraphrasing to some degree if they could not recall the exact wording? The latter scenario has been termed qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā (reciting based on meaning), in contrast to qirāʾah bi-al-talaqqī (reciting based on direct learning).

    One of the scholars who thought such an expanded concession existed was Abū Jaʿfar al-Ṭaḥāwī (d. 321 AH). He wrote, “The flexibility given to them in reciting the Qur’an was to recite according to its meanings (an yatlūhu bi-maʿānīhi) even if the wording which they recited differed from the words of their Prophet with which he recited it to them.”[115] However, al-Ṭaḥāwī specified that this was a concession (rukhṣah) that was later abrogated as it was no longer needed.[116] Al-Ṭaḥāwī does not consider this license to have been the origin of the widely-transmitted readings (qirāʾāt); instead he believed that the qirāʾāt came from different review sessions between the Prophet and Jibrīl. Furthermore, al-Ṭaḥāwī considered there to be no remnants of this temporary license of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā within the codices compiled by Abū Bakr and ʿUthmān.[117] 

    A similar idea concerning a concession for reciting according to meaning has been expressed by Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī (d. 404 AH). He wrote, “And it is possible that in the beginning of Islam it was legislated for people to exchange one ḥarf for another for instance instead of ʿalīm qadīr using ghafūr raḥīm, and then it was abrogated after that.”[118] He was explicit on the latter point:

    And the seven [canonical] reciters are to be followed in all their readings established from them… and it is not permissible and not justifiable to recite according to the meaning (qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā) instead of following the Divinely-revealed wording.[119]

    The statements of al-Bāqillānī and al-Ṭaḥāwī are in agreement that the existence of a concession to recite according to the meaning during the Prophetic era does not entail that the qirāʾāt originated from this license. Likewise, Ibn ʿAqīlah al-Makkī (d. 1150 AH) wrote in response to the question concerning the permissibility of substituting synonyms in recitation, “It is not allowed to do that, rather the concession was for those whose tongue was previously accustomed to something other than the mutawātir wording of the Qur’an.”[120]

    There are other scholars who may have also been referring to such a restricted concession to recite according to the meaning, although their statements are less explicit in comparison to those previously mentioned. Perhaps the earliest statement that can be cited in this regard is from Ibn Shihāb al-Zuḥrī (d. 124 AH):

    Abū Uways said, “I asked al-Zuḥrī about al-taqdīm wa-al-taʾkhīr (reversing the order of words or a phrase) in Hadith and he replied, ‘This is permitted with the Qur’an so how about the Hadith? If the meaning of the Hadith is captured correctly and one does not make the impermissible permissible or make the permissible impermissible, then there is no problem and that is if the meaning is correctly captured.”[121]

    Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī was known to have permitted transmission of hadith based on meaning (riwayah bi-al-maʿnā);[122] however, he also commented on the famous seven aḥruf hadith by saying, “It has reached me that these seven aḥruf are basically one in meaning, they do not differ about what is permissible or prohibited.”[123] Taken together with his previous statement, it may be claimed that he considered the seven aḥruf tradition to essentially be the Prophet’s way of describing a concession to use qirā’ah bi-al-ma’nā. The other possibility is that he was simply referring to the fact that revealed aḥruf use taqdīm wa-l-ta’khīr in Divine speech so there is no reason why human speech cannot.

    Imām al-Shāfiʿī (d. 204 AH) has an interesting statement concerning the seven aḥruf. In his work on legal theory entitled al-Risālah, he discusses the fact that there are different wordings narrated from various companions for the tashahhud (the supplication recited during the seated position in the ritual prayer). As al-Shāfiʿī explains, it was allowed for the companions to recite this prayer with slight variations according to what they memorized so long as it did not affect the meaning. He then cites as evidence for the permissibility of this the very same narration about ʿUmar and Hishām encountered earlier regarding their difference in reading Sūrat al-Furqān. He then writes:

    If God, out of mercy and compassion for His creatures, revealed His Book in seven [aḥruf]—knowing that memorization is subject to slippage—making it lawful for them to recite it with different wordings as long as their differences do not distort the meaning, then it is even more appropriate that differences in the wording of texts other than the Book of God be permitted as long as the meaning is not distorted in any text that does not convey a legal ruling. Differences in wording do not distort the meaning in such cases. One of the Successors said: “I met some of the Companions of God’s Emissary, and they were united in regard to the meaning but disagreed over the wording of a certain text. I asked one of them about that and he said, ‘It is not a problem as long as the meaning is not distorted.’”[124]

    In this case, al-Shāfiʿī is using the license for reciting according to the seven aḥruf to prove the permissibility of slight variation in tashahhud using argumentum a fortiori (qiyās bi-l-awlā). However, there is no need to take that as an endorsement of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā. The point is that if Allah provided a license for people to read with slight differences according to the aḥruf due to the fallibility of human memory, there is all the more reason to provide a license for small variations when narrating supplications. The license for the former is more restricted than the license for the latter, given that one must still recite according to the way one was taught the aḥruf while the less restricted license is only applicable to ḥadith. This statement therefore does not explicitly indicate a concession to recite differently from the revealed wording. 

    Moreover, al-Shāfīʿī has commented on the same issue elsewhere with further details. In Ikhtilāf al-Ḥadīth, he discusses the different variants of the tashahhud, again draws an analogy with the aḥruf, however he specifies, “It is plausible that all these variants are authentically established, and that the Prophet would teach the congregation and individuals the tashahhud, so that one person would memorize it according to one wording and another person would memorize it according to a different wording.”[125] He also writes, “and no one has the right to intentionally avoid reciting a letter from the Qur’an (according to the revealed wording), except out of forgetfulness.”[126] This makes it clear that he considered the rule to be reciting according to the exact wording, and impermissible for one to intentionally depart from it.

    Abū al-Layth al-Samarqandī (d. 375 AH) was of the opinion that Muslims were given permission under the license of aḥruf to recite the Qur’an according to the pronunciation of their own dialects without precedent, while only one reading originated from the Prophet ﷺ. According to Abul-Layth, this license to pronounce words differently (e.g., buyūt or bīyūt) was applicable even in farsh as long as the changes did not impact the meaning; he did not extend this to wording alterations.[127]

    Abū Shāmah al-Maqdisī (d. 665 AH) linked the seven aḥruf with qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā though he considered them to have not been abrogated but simply no longer applicable after the ʿUthmānic recension. He writes concerning the seven aḥruf hadith:

    The meaning of the hadith is that it was a concession given to them to replace words with that which gave the same or nearly the same meaning from one ḥarf to seven aḥruf. And they were not compelled to stick to one ḥarf since it was revealed upon an unlettered nation who were not accustomed to studying, repetition, or memorization of the exact wording of something, taking into consideration those who were elderly as well as those preoccupied with striving in battle and livelihood. So a concession was given to them in that. And some raised with one dialect would find it difficult to switch to another. So the qirāʾāt differed as a result of all of that.

    And this is proven for us by the Hadith which explains [seven aḥruf] using the examples of halumma and taʿāl, showing the permissibility of exchanging one word for its synonym. And this is also proven for us by what has been established about substituting ghafūran raḥīman in place of ʿazīzan ḥakīman using what conveys the same essential meaning without preserving the exact wording (dūna al-muḥāfaẓati ʿalā al-lafẓ). For all of that is praise of Allah, Glorified is He.

    This is all in regards to what the reciter can naturally pronounce. As for what is not possible for him because it is not from his dialect, then his situation is clear. And nothing of the qirāʾāt goes beyond this principle, which is exchanging a word for its synonym or a similar word that conveys the same essential meaning. Then, when the maṣāḥif were codified, those qirāʾāt that conflicted with the codified script were abandoned and what remained were those readings to which the script was amenable. Then some readings which conformed to the script became popular while the transmission of others became rare.[128]

    A few pages later, Abū Shāmah does quote al-Baghawī who explicitly rejects qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā.[129] Moreover Abū Shāmah made it clear that qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā did not enter into the text of the Qur’an: “That which is compiled in the muṣḥaf is that which is agreed to be Divinely revealed, decisively confirmed, and it is what was written by the instruction of the Prophet ﷺ or what was established from him that he recited or taught others to recite.”[130] 

    Thus, Abū Shāmah clearly indicates that a concession for qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā was limited to the practice of some early Muslims prior to the ʿUthmānic codex and it was not something that entered into the Qur’anic text, which was compiled exclusively according to the revealed wording as taught by the Prophet ﷺ. Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī (d. 852 AH) similarly states:

    The aforementioned permission [to recite in different ways] was not according to desire, meaning that everyone could exchange a word with its synonym from his dialect, rather it was necessary to adhere to what was directly heard from the Prophet, and this is indicated by the fact that both ʿUmar and Hishām said, “The Prophet recited it to me this way.”

    However, it is established from more than one companion that he would recite using synonyms without precedent (wa law lam yakun masmūʿan lahu). And it is for this reason that ʿUmar critiqued Ibn Masʿūd’s recitation of “attā ḥīn” to mean “ḥattā ḥīn” and he wrote to him, “Verily, the Qur’an was not revealed in the dialect of Hudhayl so teach people the recitation of Quraysh and do not teach them the recitation according to the dialect of Hudhayl.”[131]

    Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 833 AH) used the same concept to explain one possible origin of the shadhdh qirāʾāt:

    The shādhdh qirāʾāt, if they happen to be authentic, originate from readings that were permitted but were not established as Divinely revealed; or people were given the choice concerning it in the beginning and then the ummah agreed upon abandoning them due to the benefit (maṣlaḥah).[132]

    He further said:

    The companions agreed upon writing the Qur’an according to the Final Review (al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah) which the Prophet ﷺ recited during the year of his passing, and according to what was revealed by Allah Most Exalted, rather than according to that for which a permission was given (dūna mā adhina fih).[133]

    Let us pause for a moment and consider what these scholars say and what they do not say. If the Prophet ﷺ gave a concession for some people to recite according to meaning, was that the rare exception while the default remained talaqqī or was the default variation? There is no indication that these scholars considered the default to be anything other than talaqqī even if a concession was made for some to recite by meaning due to hardship and difficulty. In fact, most of the aforementioned scholars reiterate the concept of recitation being a practice to be followed precisely (sunnah muttabaʿah). Moreover, did those companions who recited according to meaning ever consider their variant wording equivalent with Allah’s Divine speech? None of these scholars suggest any such notion; if anything, it would be clear that the wording was a concession in lieu of reciting the precise wording of the Divine speech.[134]

    This provides an important corrective to recent attempts to take qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā from being a limited concession which a small handful of scholars believed existed, and interpret it instead as an explanation for the emergence of all Qur’anic variants, including the qirāʾāt.[135] This qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā theory and its arguments will be evaluated and critiqued in detail in the subsequent section. However, for now it is important to note that the scholars discussed did not state that the widely-recited canonical qirāʾāt were the result of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā. It is also interesting to note that the orientalist Ignaz Goldziher espoused a version of this view in his claim that the qirā’āt traditions in the Muslim world were invented without precedent or transmission, based on Muslims’ interpretation of the ʿUthmānic script lacking diacritics.[136] However, this view has been convincingly challenged by a detailed study of the nature of variants.[137]

    Evaluation of arguments

    Proponents of the theory of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā generally cite the following evidences (the specific counter-points to which are mentioned in the footnotes while the general counter-arguments are offered later in this section):

    1. The seven aḥruf hadith which conveys a degree of fluidity so long as the message is not altered, such as the hadith wherein the Prophet ﷺ states, “Whether you say ‘Samīʿan ʿAlīman’ (Most Hearing, Most Knowing) or ‘ʿAzīzan Ḥakīman’ (Most Mighty, Most Wise) then Allah is like that, so long as you do not conclude a verse of punishment with mercy or a verse of mercy with punishment.”[138] 
    2. Reports about the reading or teaching of companions; e.g., the hadith reported from Abū al-Dardāʾ and Ibn Masʿūd about teaching a man to recite ṭaʿām al-fājir instead of ṭaʿām al-athīm.[139] Anas ibn Mālik recited awabu qīlan instead of aqwamu qīlan and when questioned about that, he replied that the meaning was the same.[140]
    3. Reports about the companions seemingly criticizing or denying a Qur’anic reading, which would seem to negate the supposition that they are all equally valid and all from the Prophet.[141] This includes, for instance, an example of ʿĀʾishah denying one of the readings of 12:110,[142] and ʿAlī denying the ʿUthmānic reading of 56:29.[143]
    4. The existence of shādhdh readings which do not conform to the ʿUthmānic muṣḥaf.
    5. The examples of reciters performing ijtihād based on the ʿUthmānic text or reciters who selected a reading without precedent.[144]
    6. The argument that the sheer quantity of all readings that would be traced back to the Prophet ﷺ makes it seem implausible that he could have recited them all.

    The theory of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā may seem to account for all the variants reported and conveniently side-step the orientalist arguments about multiple “versions” of the Qur’an that do not originate from the Prophet ﷺ. However, these are not strong reasons to adopt this view given that the well-established traditional explanations easily account for variant readings and the above-mentioned evidences are, in fact, not very convincing on closer inspection.

    First, with respect to the inferences drawn from aḥādīth implying a degree of flexibility in the wording of a verse so long as one does not conclude a verse of mercy with punishment, these inferences neglect the textual evidence that demonstrates an understanding on the part of the companions that they were to recite precisely as they were taught. For instance, the incident between ʿUmar and Hishām ibn Ḥakīm would never have occurred if there was an expectation that small variations were tolerable (which is the understanding of those who consider the Qur’an akin to other compositions in oral cultures). It is precisely because the companions expected everything to be recited exactly as taught by the Prophet ﷺ that they were so cautious and a dispute occurred when they suspected a variation in reading that was not taught by the Prophet. When the Prophet ﷺ spoke of the seven aḥruf, he said “the Qur’an was revealed according to seven aḥruf” or he said about a reading “This is how it was revealed,” and “Thus Jibrīl recited to me.”

    Moreover, in response to these disputes, the Prophet ﷺ did not tell people to read as they pleased but rather told ʿAlī to reiterate to people that each individual was to recite according to how he had learned.[145] ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb said, “Qirāʾah of the Qur’an is a sunnah that one takes from one before him.”[146] Thus, any hadith that seems to imply flexibility in wording is taken to mean that flexibility exists in selecting one of the pre-specified Divinely revealed readings.

    Al-Bayhaqī (d. 458 AH) states:

    As for those reports that have been transmitted concerning the permissibility of reciting Ghafūr Raḥīm in place of ʿAlīm Ḥakīm, then it is because all of that is from what has been revealed in waḥy (revelation). So if one recites that phrase in other than its correct place so long as he does not conclude a verse of punishment with a verse of mercy or a verse of mercy with a verse of punishment, then it is as if he recited the verse of one sūrah with the verse of another so he would not be sinful according to that. And the basis is that qirāʾah which was confirmed in the year the Prophet passed away after Jibrīl reviewed the Qur’an with him twice that year, and then the companions agreed upon its compilation between the covers of the muṣḥaf.[147]

    There is a hadith that is particularly explicit about the necessity of preserving the precise wording of the Qur’an. It tells of a man from Banū al-Najjār who outwardly converted to Islam and used to write revelation for the Prophet ﷺ but made alterations; he would write samīʿ ʿalīm when the Prophet dictated samīʿ baṣīr and vice versa. He later publicly renounced the faith and claimed the Prophet knew nothing other than what he had written. When he died, his tribesmen attempted to bury him several times but would awaken the next day to find his body cast out by the earth. Eventually, they gave up trying to bury him and abandoned his corpse.[148] This would constitute the sternest warning in the Muslim tradition against making any alterations in the Qur’anic recitation or script.

    Evidence suggests that the early Muslim community had the understanding of preservation of the wording of the Qur’an, rather than a notion of preservation and transmission by meaning. A story recounted by Yaḥyā ibn Aktham (d. 242 AH) tells of a man who accepted Islam in the court of al-Maʾmūn because of a test the man had invented to confirm the veracity of the faith. He had introduced subtle scribal errors into the Torah, the Gospels, and the Qur’an and disseminated their copies; the first two went undetected while the copies of the Qur’an containing errors were detected immediately. When Yahya told this story to Sufyān ibn ʿUyaynah (d. 198 AH), the latter confirmed that this is one of the unique features of the Qur’an in contradistinction to previous scriptures which were entrusted to their respective nations to preserve, citing 5:44.[149]

    As for the narrations regarding a companion reportedly criticizing a qirāʾah, these narrations are readily understood to be based on what they were familiar with from the diverse readings of the Qur’an. For instance, when Saʿd ibn Abī Waqqāṣ criticized a reading of Saʿīd ibn al-Musayyib, he did so because he did not think it came from the Prophet (ﷺ).[150] When ʿUthmān compiled the muṣḥaf, when they wanted to record a verse they would specifically ask a person who heard it directly from the Prophet ﷺ, “How did the Prophet recite this verse to you?”[151] Thus, the narrations of criticizing other readings need to be understood in light of the companions’ zeal in establishing with certainty the correct reading and being stringent in accepting the validity of a reading, which is precisely the opposite of the laxity one would expect if the companions adopted qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā. One of the clearest examples of this is an incident in which ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb heard a variant reading from a man who stated he learned it from Ubayy ibn Kaʿb. So ʿUmar took the man to Ubayy and questioned Ubayy about whether he heard this verse directly from the Prophet ﷺ in this manner, to which Ubayy replied in the affirmative, “Yes, I learned it directly (talaqqī) from the Prophet.” However, ʿUmar repeated the question multiple times, and on the third time, Ubayy became upset and said, “Yes I swear by Allah! Allah revealed it like this to Jibrīl and revealed it to Muhammad, and He did not consult al-Khaṭṭāb nor his son (i.e., ʿUmar)!” Thereupon ʿUmar left Ubayy, raising his hands in prayer saying, “Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.”[152]

    In light of these narrations, it is clear that any narrations that suggest the substitution of words when a companion was teaching a Qur’anic verse are to be understood as isolated cases of providing a rukhṣah in circumstances when the student was unable to recite, memorize, or learn the original word. This is most evident in the story of Ibn Masʿūd or Abū al-Dardāʾ substituting ṭaʿām al-fājir in place of ṭaʿām al-athīm after the student continued to mistakenly recite ṭaʿām al-yatīm despite multiple attempts.[153] These incidents do not imply that the concession wording was then considered part of Allah’s Divine speech revealed in the Qur’an.

    Numerous classical scholars rejected the notion of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā in explicit terms, including al-Baghawī (d. 516 AH), Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ al-Shahrazūrī (d. 643 AH), Ibn al-Ḥājib al-Mālikī (d. 646 AH), Ibn Taymīyah (d. 728  AH), Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 832 AH), and al-Suyūṭī (d. 911 AH), among many others.[154] The early scholar Abū Bakr ibn al-Anbārī (d. 328 AH) wrote concerning the narration from Anas ibn Mālik (reciting awabu qīlan):

    Some of those astray may resort to such reports to cast doubts and state: whoever recites according to a reading that conforms to the meaning of a ḥarf from the Qur’an is correct so long as he does not contradict the meaning or bring forth other than what Allah intended and meant, and they use as proof this statement of Anas ibn Mālik. And this argument is an empty claim that should not be relied upon nor should the one making it be paid any attention. And that is because if one were to recite according to words that differ with the wording of the Qur’an despite approximating its meaning and general intent, then it would be permissible to recite in place of “al-ḥamdu lillāhi rabbi al-ʿālamīn” the phrase “al-shukru lil-bārī malik al-makhlūqīn.” And the flexibility in this regard would continue to increase until the entire wording of the Qur’an was nullified and replaced with that which would be a fabrication upon God and a lie upon His Messenger.[155]

    The quote from Ibn al-Anbarī raises an incredibly profound point about the notion of unrestricted qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā. How can such qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā even work? Why can’t someone recite “al-shukru lil-bārī malik al-makhlūqīn”? It is very difficult to understand how the process can take place without any limits or parameters—in essence, it’s a game without rules. If the Qur’an was being recited on a daily basis by thousands of people of diverse linguistic backgrounds and imperfect recollection, each with the license to alter its wording at will, there would be no consistency in public recitation and prayers, and no one would know whether to correct the imam’s recitation or not. There would be so much variability that the task of even assembling a fixed copy of the Qur’an would be nigh impossible.[156] In order to even recite, memorize, and record something there must be a high degree of invariance and permanence. Moreover, we don’t have any statement from the Prophet ﷺ or any of the companions ever telling a learner that they had exceeded the limits or gone beyond the scope of what was acceptable variation.

    We can learn as much from the places where qirāʾāt agree as we can from where they differ. The qirāʾāt traditions demonstrate an exceptionally high degree of invariance overall, despite containing multiple near-identical passages with subtle differences (mutashābihāt) that are challenging to recall with precision without careful diligent memorization of the differences (e.g., 2:58-60 compared with 7:160-2, or compare 20:10, 27:7, and 28:29, or 26:41-5 versus 7:113-117). If variant readings were based on imperfect recall and transmission based on meaning, we should expect the greatest concentration of reported variants in such near-identical passages given that they are the hardest to remember precisely.

    Does the foregoing discussion mean that any conception of qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā is entirely without merit? To the contrary, the concept as it was discussed by the classical scholars raises some interesting questions and does suggest the possibility that, on some occasions, the companions would provide a “rukhṣah reading” of sorts that was meant to assist someone unfamiliar with the words in a particular Qur’anic verse, but these readings were only an aid and did not become part of what was considered ‘God’s speech’ (kalām Allāh), nor did they become the basis for widely recited qirā’āt in the Muslim world. Taken in this manner, this view becomes no different from the basic idea behind al-qirāʾāt tafsīrīyah.

    Were all variations recited by the Prophet Muhammad ?

    A final question might arise here as to what did the Prophet himself ﷺ read? Did he actually read all the uṣūl from each of the canonical qirāʾāt and the farsh as well?

    1. With regard to uṣūl, the Prophet ﷺ could have recited each principle (aṣl) of these uṣūl in a few sūrahs or even in one sūrah, or it could have been that it was read to him and he gave his approval. For example, a companion whose dialect is imālah would naturally read to the Prophet in what he was accustomed to. However, one must have had the approval of the Prophet ﷺ before attempting to recite the Qur’an according to their own dialect.[157] 

    2. As for farsh, the Prophet ﷺ would have recited each word in each of its different ways at least at some point in ṣalāh or in teaching sessions at least once during the course of his lifetime, as per qirāʾah bi-l-talaqqī. However, different pronunciations of the same word would fall under the same category as uṣūl as mentioned earlier by Abu al-Layth al-Samarqandī.[158] 

    Conclusion

    The qirāʾāt that Muslims recite today have been transmitted through generations after generations of reciters with uninterrupted chains of transmission tracing back to the Prophet ﷺ, containing within them a mixture of the variation permitted according to the seven aḥruf. All of the accepted qirāʾāt follow three basic rules:

    1. Conformity to the consonantal skeleton of the ʿUthmānic muṣḥaf.

    2. Consistency with Arabic grammar.

    3. Authentic chain of transmission.

    Those qirāʾāt that fall short of these conditions are shādhdh (anomalous/irregular). This article has focused on elucidating how the Islamic tradition accounts for authentically established readings that do not meet the first condition above. The variant readings reported from companions that differ from the ʿUthmānic codex may represent either an abrogated or abandoned ḥarf, or they may represent a recitation containing word alterations for commentary or for facilitation for a learner. The vast and astounding detail with which the Islamic tradition discusses the diverse modes of recitation of the Qur’an is without a doubt unparalleled by any other book in the history of human civilization.

    Today, Muslims continue to recite multiple canonical recitations that conform to the muṣḥaf and have been transmitted by generations upon generations with unbroken chains of authority tracing to the Prophet ﷺ. To listen to the melodious Qur’anic recitation in different readings is to experience it in the same mesmerizing manner with which it captured the hearts of its earliest audience.

    Notes

    [1] A rough approximation can be obtained by dividing those 703 places wherein a different reading is listed in the index to Ibn Mujāhid’s Kitāb al-sab’ah fī al-qirā’āt by the total number of words in the Qur’an (surpassing 77,400), in order to arrive at 0.9% of words with an alternative reading. For these numbers see Yasin Dutton, “Orality, Literacy and the ‘Seven Aḥruf’ Hadith,” Journal of Islamic Studies 23, no. 1 (2012): 10.

    [2] The early scholar from Baghdad, Ibn Mujāhid (d. 324 AH) is famous for enumerating seven acceptable modes of recitation in his work Kitab al-sabʿah fi al-qirāʾāt. He selected those readings that had become widely accepted, picking one reader for every major center of knowledge in the Muslim world (Mecca—Ibn Kathīr, Damascus—Ibn ʿĀmir, Basrah—Abū ʿAmr, Madinah—Nāfiʿ) except for Kūfah, from which he chose three reciters (ʿĀṣim, Ḥamzah, al-Kisāʾī). There were many readings that were left out; for instance, Ibn al-Jazarī (d. 833 AH) stated that the early scholar Abū ʿUbayd al-Qāsim ibn Sallām (d. 224 AH) compiled twenty-five qirā’āt. Some scholars, including Ibn al-Jazarī, took the list of seven from Ibn Mujāhid and added three other reciters to form the canonical list of ten: Abū Ja’far from Madinah, Yaʿqūb from Baṣrah, and Khalaf from Kūfah.

    [3] Both Muhammad Mustafa Al-Aʿzami and Yasin Dutton note the inadequacy of the term “variant” for the Qur’an, given that there is not a singular fixed original, but rather the original itself is “multiformic” to use Dutton’s terminology. See Dutton, “Orality, Literacy and the ‘Seven Aḥruf’ Hadith,” 1–49; also see Muhammad Mustafa Al-Azami, The History of the Qur’anic Text from Revelation to Compilation (Leicester: UK Islamic Academy, 2003), 154–55. Acknowledging this point, the term is used in the present article to signify a reading that does not conform to the Uthmanic recension. Shady Hekmat Nasser terms such readings “anomalous” and uses the term “irregular” for those readings that are deficient in transmission or grammar, while both are referred to as shaadh in Arabic. Nasser, The Transmission of the Variant Readings of the Qurʾān: The Problem of Tawatur and the Emergence of Shawadhdh (Leiden: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 16.

    [4] Behnam Sadeghi and Mohsen Goudarzi, “San’a’ 1 and the Origins of the Qurʾān,” Der Islam 87, no. 1–2 (February 2012): 1–129. For this categorization, pp. 3–4.

    [5] Sadeghi and Goudarzi, 3.

    [6] Sadeghi and Goudarzi; see also Harald Motzki, “Alternative Accounts of the Qur’an’s Formation,” in The Cambridge Companion to the Qur’an, ed. J. McAuliffe, Cambridge Companions to Religion (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 59–76.

    [7] Nicolai Sinai, “When Did the Consonantal Skeleton of the Quran Reach Closure? Part II,” Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 77, no. 3 (2014): 509–21.

    [8] See for instance: Sami Ameri, Hunting for the Word of God (Minneapolis: Thoughts of Light Publishing, 2013); Al-Azami, History of the Qur’anic Text; Abd al-Fattah Shalabi, Rasm al-mushaf al-Uthmani wa awham al-mustashriqin fi qira’at al-Qur’an al-Karim (Cairo: Maktabah Wahbah, 1999); Muhammad Mohar Ali, The Quran and the Orientalists (Norwich: Jamiyat Ihyaa Minhaaj al-Sunnah, 2004). The alternative narrative is discussed below in the section on qira’ah bil-ma’na.

    [9] It is anticipated that the present article will form the first in a trilogy with two subsequent articles examining the ʿUthmānic variants and the post-ʿUthmānic readings respectively.

    [10] Ṣaḥīḥ Bukhārī, no. 3, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/1/3.

    [11] Qur’an 16:102.

    [12] Ṣaḥīḥ Bukhari, no. 6, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/1/6.

    [13] Al-A’zami, History of the Qur’anic Text, 64–65. Al-A’zami lists no fewer than thirty-nine companions by name who memorized the Qur’an directly from the Prophet ﷺ, and this list evidently includes only the most famous who lived to teach others, as the names of those who died in Bi’r Ma’unah and Yamamah have not been preserved.

    [14] Ṣaḥīḥ Bukhari, no. 4090, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/64/134.

    [15] Ṣaḥīḥ Bukhari, no. 5027, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/66/49.

    [16] Al-A’zami, History of the Qur’anic Text, 68.

    [17] In addition to being recorded in almost all the canonical six works (Bukhārī, Muslim, Abū Dāwūd, Tirmidhī, al-Nasā’ī), the seven aḥruf narrations are found in numerous early works including the Jāmiʿ of Maʿmar ibn Rāshid (d. 153 AH), Muwaṭṭa of Imam Mālik ibn Anas (d. 179 AH), the Musnad of Abū Dāwūd al-Ṭayālisī (d. 204 AH), Musnad al-Ḥumaydī (d. 219 AH), Muṣannaf ibn Abī Shaybah (d. 235 AH), and the Musnad of Imām Aḥmad (d. 241 AH). Given the voluminous transmitted reports from the earliest era, the fact that the earliest Muslim community understood the Qur’an to be a multiform recitation cannot be logically disputed even by the most skeptical historian.

    [18] A comprehensive study of the narrations demonstrates that it was reported by no fewer than twenty-three companions through numerous diverse chains. See ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz al-Qāriʾ, Hadith al-aḥruf al-sabʿ: Dirāsat isnādihi wa matnihi wa ikhtilaf al-ʿulamāʾ fī maʿnāhu wa ṣilatihi bi-al-qirā’āt al-Qurʾānīyah (Beirut: Resalah Publishers, 2002).

    [19] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 4991, kitāb faḍāʾil al-Qurʾān. The hadith of seven aḥruf are cited in no fewer than four books within Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhari.

    [20] Jāmiʿ al-Tirmidhī, no. 2944, https://sunnah.com/urn/731900.

    [21] Ibn Qutaybah, Ta’wīl mushkil al-Qurʾān (Cairo: Maktabah Dar al-Turath, 1973), 38–40; see also Abū Shāmah, al-Murshid al-wajīz ilā ʿulūm tataʿallaq bi-al-kitāb al-ʿazīz (Beirut: DKI, 2003), 90.

    [22] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 5041, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/66/65.

    [23] al-Khaṭṭābī, Maʿālim al-sunan, (Halab: al-Maṭbaʿah al-ʿIlmiyyah, 1932), 1:293.

    [24] For further details, see Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib, al-Ibānah ʿan maʿānī al-qirāʾāt (Cairo: Dar Nahdah Misr, 1977), 71–79; Abū Shāmah, al-Murshid al-wajīz, 91-111; al-Zarkashi: al-Burhān fī ʿulūm al-Qurʾān (Cairo: Dār al-Turāth, 1984), 1:213–27; Ibn al-Jazarī, al-Nashr, ed. Muḥammad Sālim Muḥaysin (Cairo: Maktabah al-Qahirah, 1978), 1:21–31; ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz Qāriʾ, Hadith al-aḥruf as-sab’ah; Ghanim Qadduri Al-Hamad, al-Ajwibah al-‘ilmiyyah ‘alā as’ilat multaqā ahl al-tafsīr.

    [25] Taqi Uthmani, An Approach to the Qur’anic Sciences (Karachi: Darul Ishaat, 2007), 105–65; Ahmad Ali al-Imam, Variant Readings of the Qur’an (London: IIIT, 2006); Al-Azami, History of the Qur’anic Text, 152–64; Abu Ammar Yasir Qadhi, An Introduction to the Sciences of the Qur’aan (Birmingham: Al-Hidaayah Publications, 1999), 172–202.

    [26] See Ibn al-Jazarī: an-Nashr, 1:27; al-Suyūṭī: al-Itqān, 1:313–14.

    [27] In our time, shawādhdh has been used as a designation for all qirā’āt other than the ten canonical qirā’āt. The formal classical definition is those readings that lack one of the following three criteria: (1) authentic transmission; (2) conformity to the ʿUthmānic skeletal text; and (3) concordance with conventional Arabic grammar.

    [28] For a list of these variants see ʿAbd al-Laṭīf al-Khaṭīb, Mu’jam al-qirāʾāt (Damascus: Dār Sa’d al-Din, 2002), 6:315. No. 1 variant 2 is read by Abū Sawwār al-Ghunawī and Abū al-Jawzāʾ, no. 2 variant 2 by ʿĀṣim al-Jaḥdarī and ʿAbd Allāh ibn al-Zubayr, no. 2 variant 3 by Muʿādh Abū Ḥulaymah and Abū Nahik, no. 3 variant 2 by Ad´ham al-Sadūsī, and no. 4 variant 2 by ʿAbd Allāh ibn al-Zubayr.

    [29] Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, al-Tamhīd li mā fī al-Muwaṭṭa min al-maʿāni wa-al-asānīd (Rabat: al-Maṭba’ah al-Malakiyyah, 1980), 8:301–2. Shady Hekmat Nasser also adopts a similar approach, The Transmission, 29–30.

    [30] Ṣaḥīḥ Ibn Ḥibbānkitāb al-raqā’iqbāb qirā’āt al-Qur’ān, 747, https://library.islamweb.net/newlibrary/display_book.php?idfrom=749&idto=749&bk_no=314&ID=741.

    [31] Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 403, http://sunnah.com/muslim/4/64.

    [32] Ibn Mujāhid, Kitāb al-sabʿah fī al-qirāʾāt, ed. Shawqi Dayf (Cairo: Dar al-Ma’arif, 1972), 51.

    [33] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 4987, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/66/9.

    [34] For a discussion on this point, see Al-Azami, History of the Qur’anic Text,  97.

    [35] ʿAbd Allāh ibn Mas’ud was praised for his recitation by the Prophet ﷺ, being one of the four from whom the Prophet told others to learn the Qur’an (alongside Sālim, Mu’ādh, and Ubayy ibn Ka’b; Ṣaḥīḥ Bukhari, no. 4999), and being one whose recitation was described “as fresh as how it was revealed” (Sunan ibn Majah, no. 143, https://sunnah.com/urn/1251380).

    [36] Ibn Mujāhid, Kitab al-sabʿah fī al-qirāʾāt, 67. See also Ghānim Qaddurī al-Ḥamad, Rasm al-muṣḥaf: Dirāsah lughawīyah tārīkhīyah (Baghdad: al-Lajnah al-Waṭaniyyah, 1982), 623; and Ramon Harvey, “The Legal Epistemology of Qur’anic Variants: The Readings of Ibn Masʿūd in Kufan fiqh and the Ḥanafī madhhab,” Journal of Qur’anic Studies 19, no. 1 (2017): 72–101, 20, endnote 8.

    [37] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 3742, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/62/89.

    [38] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhari, no. 4727, https://sunnah.com/urn/180620.

    [39] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhari, no. 4971, https://sunnah.com/urn/183110; Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 208a, https://sunnah.com/muslim/1/416. al-Nawawī (d. 671 AH) and al-Qurṭubī (d. 676 AH) both stated that this was a revealed verse that was abrogated. See al-Nawawī, al-Minhāj sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim bin Ḥajjāj (Cairo: Mu’assasat Qurtubah, 1994), 3:102; al-Qurṭubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-aḥkām al-Qurān, ed. ʿAbd Allāh al-Turkī (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 2006), 16:83. Al-Kirmānī (d. 796 AH) adds the possibility of it being tafsīrSharḥ al-Kirmānī ala Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī (Beirut: DKI, 1971), 9:211.

    [40] Muḥammad ibn ʿAbd ul-Raḥmān al-Ṭāsān, al-Masāḥif al-manṣuba lil-ṣaḥābah wa-al-radd ʿalā shubuhat al-muthārah (Riyadh: Dar al-Tadmuriyyah, 2016), 314-315.

    [41] Variant readings that differ from the ʿUthmānic codex must be studied by hadith standards because, unlike the qirā’āt, they have not been transmitted by the ritual practice of one generation of Muslims from the next, but rather only as isolated reports. The successively transmitted uninterrupted living oral tradition has always been the primary factor in establishing the validity of one’s recitation.

    [42] While the 540 reported variants likely overestimates the quantity, the 20 variants with an authentic chain of transmission likely underestimates it due to the fact that some of the other variants are demonstrated in manuscripts.

    [43] In their 2012 essay studying folios of the lower text, Benham Sadeghi and Mohsen Goudarzi write: “The lower writing of Ṣan‘ā’ 1 clearly falls outside the standard [Uthmanic] text type. It belongs to a different text type, which we call C-1. . . . Ṣan‘ā’ 1 constitutes direct documentary evidence for the reality of the non-‘Uthmānic text types that are usually referred to as ‘Companion codices.’ . . . C-1 confirms the reliability of much of what has been reported about the other Companion codices not only because it shares some variants with them, but also because its variants are of the same kinds as those reported for those codices” (Sadeghi and Goudarzi, 17–20). They also note that since the Uthmanic mushaf always agrees with either C-1 or Ibn Masʿūd’s text (i.e., it is always in the majority) in the case of difference, this suggests either that it was compiled from a critical examination of other textual sources or that it is the most faithful reproduction of the Prophetic prototype (21–22). Both of these scenarios are entirely consistent with what the Muslim tradition states.

    [44] His father is, of course, none other than the famous Abū Dāwūd al-Sijistānī (d. 275 AH) who compiled the Sunan.

    [45] Ibn Abī Dāwūd, Kitāb al-maṣāḥif, ed. Muhib al-Din Wa’iz (Beirut: Dar al-Basha’ir al-Islamiyyah, 2002), 2:284.

    [46] al-Ṭāsān, al-Maṣāḥif al-manṣuba lil-ṣaḥābah, 63–64.

    [47] al-Ṭāsān, Maṣaḥif al-ṣaḥābah, lecture, Tafsir Centre for Qur’anic Studies, Riyadh, KSA, April 11, 2018, <escape>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDH5PtQIvkE#t=48m16s<escape>.

    [48] Ibn al-Nadīm, Kitāb al-fihrist, ed. Rida Tajadud (Teheran: 1971), 29.

    [49] Al-Azami, History of the Qur’anic Text, 215.

    [50] For a detailed list of these reports and their analysis in a recent work dedicated to this subject, see ʿAlī al-Jaʿfarī, alʿAdl wa-l-Iḥsān fī taḥrīr iʿtirāḍāt Ibn Masʿūd ʿalā muṣḥaf ʿUthmān, (Kuwait: Dār al-Ẓāhiriyya, 2022), 64-57.

    [51] Musnad Aḥmad 21226, Muʿjam al-Kabīr li-Ṭabarānī 9150. Declared authentic by Ibn Ḥajar, al-Suyūṭī, al-Shawkānī, al-Haythamī, Aḥmad Shākir and Shuʿayb al-Arnāʾūṭ. See al-Jaʿfarī, al-ʿAdl, 65, fn 2.

    [52] Al-Ṭāsān, Taḥqīq mawqif al-ṣaḥābī al-jalīl ʿAbdullah ibn Masʿūd min al-jam al-ʿUthmānī, (Riyadh: King Saud University, Chair of Quranic Sciences 1435H), 80-88. Al-Ṭāsān also mentions a third group that considers Ibn Masʿūd to have only disputed writing these chapters in the muṣḥaf and not to have disputed their Qur’anic status. However, this possibility falls within the scope of the first group since it rejects the apparent import of the reports about Ibn Masʿūd as the muʿawwidhatayn, and thus we find al-Bāqillānī mentions this possibility while also disputing the authenticity and reliability of the narrations.

    [53] Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī, The Great Exegesis = Al-Tafsīr Al-Kabīr, trans. Sohaib Saeed (Cambridge, UK: The Royal Aal Al-Bayt Institute For Islamic Thought, 2018), 343.

    [54] Al-Nawawī, al-Majmūʿ Sharḥ al-Muhadhdhab, (Cairo: Idarat al-Tiba’a al-Muniriyya, 1925), 3:396.

    [55] Ibn Ḥazm, al-Muḥallā (Beirut: DKI, 2003), 1:32. See also al-Zarkashī, al-Burhān fī ʿulum al-Qurʾān, 2:128; and Al-Azamī, History of the Qur’anic Text, 201.

    [56] Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār lil-Qur’ān (Beirut: Dar Ibn Hazm, 2001), 1:300-330.

    [57] Al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār, 307.

    [58] For instance, ʿUqba ibn ʿĀmir asked the Prophet about al-Muʿawwidhatayn, and the Prophet led them in Fajr prayer and recited them; Sunan al-Nasāʾī, 952.

    [59] Al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār, 317.

    [60] Al-Aʿẓamī, 199.

    [61] Al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār, 320; see also al-Qurṭubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-aḥkām al-Qurān, ed. ʿAbd Allah al-Turkī (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 2006), 177.

    [62] al-Qurṭubī, 177. For a discussion of the subject, see al-Tāsān, al-Masāhif, 390–97.

    [63] Ibn ʿAbd al-Kāfī, ʿAdad suwar al-Qurʾān, ed. Khalid Ḥasan Abū al-Jūd, (Cairo: Maktaba al-Bukhārī, 2010), 86.

    [64] Cited in al-Nawawī, al-Minhāj sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim ibn Ḥajjāj, (Cairo: Mu’assasat Qurtubah, 1994), 6:157–58.

    [65] Muḥammad ʿAbd al-ʿAẓīm al-Zarqānī, Manāhil al-ʿirfan fī ʿulūm al-Qurʾān (Beirut: DKI, 2013), 1:200. See also the discussion of Theodor Nöldeke who argues on the basis of stylistic features that this invocation clearly does not match the Qur’anic style; Theodor Nöldeke, Friedrich Schwally, Gotthelf Bergsträsser, Otto Pretzl, and Wolfgang Behn, The History of the Qur’an (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 241–42.

    [66] Musnad Aḥmad 21189 and declared authentic by Shuʿayb al-Arnāʿūṭ.

    [67] Ibn Qutayba,  Ta’wīl mushkil al-Qurʾān, 43.

    [68] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, (Beirut: Dar al-Ma’rifah 1379H), 8:743.

    [69] Ibn Taymiyya, Majmūʿ al-fatawa, (Mansoura: Dar El-Wafaa, 2005), 12:493.

    [70] Al-Ṭāsān, Taḥqīq mawqif al-ṣaḥābī al-jalīl, 86-87. See also al-Judayʿ, 112.

    [71] Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr Ibn Kathīr, (Riyadh: Dar al-Tayba 1999), 8:531.

    [72] Al-Jaʿfarī, al-ʿAdl, 63-64.

    [73] Al-Jaʿfarī, al-ʿAdl, 84.

    [74] See Justin Parrott, “Abrogated Rulings in the Qur’an: Discerning Their Divine Wisdom,” Yaqeen, November 15, 2018, https://yaqeeninstitute.org/justin-parrott/abrogated-rulings-in-the-quran-discerning-their-divine-wisdom/.

    [75] Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 1452a, https://sunnah.com/muslim/17/30. This narration refers to the extent of infant breastfeeding that is sufficient to establish a familial relationship under Islamic rulings.

    [76] Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 630, https://sunnah.com/muslim/5/264.

    [77] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 3554, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/61/63.

    [78] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 4998, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/66/20.

    [79] For a detailed review, see Nāsir ibn Saʿūd al-Qithamī, “al-ʿArḍah al-akhīrah: Dalālatuha wa atharuhā,” Majallah Maʿhad al-Imām al-Shaṭibī li-Dirasah al-Qurʾāniyyah, 2013, no. 15.

    [80] Mustadrak al-Hākim, no. 2959, https://library.islamweb.net/NewLibrary/display_book.php?flag=1&bk_no=74&ID=2784.

    [81] Sunan Sa’īd ibn Mansūr (Riyadh: Dar al-Samee’, 1993), 1:239.

    [82] Ibn al-Jazarī, al-Nashr, 1:8.

    [83] Osama Alhaiany, “al-ʿArḍah al-akhīrah lil-Qurʾān al-Karīm wa-al-aḥadīth al-wāridah fīhā jamʿan wa dirāsah,” al-Majallah al-Ulum al-Islamiyyah, no. 10, p. 67.

    [84] al-Baghawī, Sharḥ al-sunnah (Beirut: Al-Maktab Al-Islami, 1983), 4:525–26. Witnessing the final review would attest to Zaid’s merit in leading the committee commissioned by Uthman. However, Ibn ʿAbbās has a statement reported from him that states that ʿAbd Allāh ibn Mas’ud attended al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah (Musnad Aḥmad 3422). If both ʿAbd Allāh ibn Mas’ud and Zayd attended, then it doesn’t make sense why Ibn Masʿūd would have variant readings from that which was established by Zayd in the ʿUthmānic codex. And if ʿAbdullah attended and Zaid did not, then why would the sahabah unanimously adopt a codex that did not match al-ʿarḍah al-akhīrah? Abū Jaʿfar al-Naḥḥās answers that since the reading of ʿAsim comes from ʿAbd Allāh ibn Masʿūd, we know that Ibn Masʿūd did not only teach and recite in one ḥarf, rather he also had the same ḥarf as Zayd in addition to one that differed. See al-Naḥḥās, al-Nāsikh wa-al-mansūkh (Riyadh: Dar al-Asimah, 2009), 2:408. On ʿAsim’s transmission, see al-Ṭaḥāwī, Tuḥfat al-akhyār bi-tartīb mushkil al-āthār, ed. Khalid Mahmud al-Rabat (Riyadh: Dar al-Balansiyya, 1999), 8:435.

    [85] al-Naḥḥās, al-Nāsikh wa-al-mansūkh, 2:407.

    [86] Ibn Taymīyah, al-Fatāwā al-kubrā (Beirut: DKI, 1987), 4:418.

    [87] See section “Codices of companions” above. Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 3742, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/62/89.

    [88] Note that Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī and a few other scholars differed with this position and believed that all the seven aḥruf are contained within the ʿUthmānic codices. However, the majority believed that at least some of the aḥruf were left out.

    [89] Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, Tafsīr al-Ṭabarī, ed. al-Turkī (Cairo: Dār Hajar, 2001), 1:59–60.

    [90] al-Naḥḥās, al-Nāsikh wa-al-mansūkh, 2:405. Fa-arāda ʿUthmān an yakhtār min al-sabʿah ḥarfan wāḥid wa huwa afṣaḥuhā.

    [91] Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, al-Istidhkār (Damascus: Dar Qutaibah, 1993), 8:45.

    [92] ʿAlī ibn Ismaʿīl al-Abyārī, al-Taḥqīq wa-al-bayān fī sharḥ al-burhān fī uṣūl al-fiqh (Doha: Wizārat al-Awqāf wa al-Shuʾūn al-Islāmīyah Qatar, 2013), 2:792.

    [93] Ibn al-Qayyim, al-Ṭuruq al-ḥukmīyah fī al-siyāsah al-sharʿīyah, (Mecca: Dār ʿĀlam al-Fawāʾid, 1428 AH), 1:47–48; Ibn al-Qayyim, Iʿlām al-muwaqqiʿīn (Dammam: Dār ibn al-Jawzī, 2002), 5:65.

    [94] See also Mannāʿ al-Qaṭṭān, Mabāḥith fī ʿulūm al-Qur’ān (Cairo: Maktabah Wahbah, 1995), 158.

    [95] Makkī states,

    There ceased to be implementation of that which differed from the script of the (ʿUthmānic ) muṣḥaf from the seven aḥruf in which the Quran was revealed, based upon the unanimous consensus on the script of the muṣḥaf. Thus, the muṣḥaf was written based on one ḥarf, and its script accommodates more than one ḥarf as it was void of dotting and vowels.

    See Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib, al-Ibānah ʿan maʿānī al-qirāʾāt (Cairo: Dār Nahdah Misr, 1977), 34. This quote is of interest because it demonstrates that while opinions on this subject are conventionally divided into three groups—those who say all aḥruf are preserved (e.g., al-Bāqillānī), those who say only one is preserved (e.g., al-Ṭabarī), and those who say the ʿUthmānic muṣḥaf was deliberately written (free of vocalization and diacritics) to accommodate more than one ḥarf (Ibn al-Jazarī)—Makkī fell into a fourth category, suggesting that although the muṣḥaf was deliberately written according to one ḥarf, the script still accommodated other readings. See also Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib, al-Hidāyah ilā bulūgh al-nihāyah (Sharjah: University of Sharjah, 2008), 4:2911–12.

    [96] Ibn al-Jazarī, al-Nashr, 1:31. He writes, “As for whether ʿUthmānic codices encompass all the seven aḥruf then this is a major topic . . . the position taken by the majority of the scholars from the earlier and later generations and the Imams of the Muslims is that these codices encompass that which the text can accommodate from the seven aḥruf.”

    [97] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī (Riyadh: Dār al-Ṭaybah, 2005), 11:195–96. He further explains that this was a reason for the textual variants between ʿUthmānic codices, to increase the number of readings that could be accommodated.

    [98] Abū al-ʿAbbās ibn ʿAmmār al-Mahdawī, Sharḥ al-hidāyah (Riyadh: Maktabah Rushd, 1995), 5.

    [99] As demonstrated by the view of Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib, there is no conflict between the view that the committee of ʿUthmān compiled the Qur’an according to one ḥarf and the view that some of the other aḥruf remained because even if the committee may have primarily had one of the various readings in mind when they transcribed the codex, that does not change the fact that other readings could still be accommodated by the skeletal text. See also Ghānim Qaddurī al-Ḥamad, Rasm al-muṣḥaf: Dirāsah lughawīyah tārīkhīyah, 152.

    [100] Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib, al-Ibānah ʿan maʿanī al-qirāʾāt (Cairo: Dar Nahdah Misr, 1977), 42.

    [101] Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār lil-Qur’ān (Beirut: Dar Ibn Hazm, 2001), 1:153. He mentions as an example the reading “salāt al-ʿaṣr” in 2:238.

    [102] Abū Ḥayyān, al-Baḥr al-muḥīṭ (Beirut: Dār al-Fikr, 2010), 1:260.

    [103] Sunan al-Tirmidhī, no. 3314, https://sunnah.com/urn/740400.

    [104] al-Nawawī, al-Minhāj sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim bin al-Ḥajjāj (Cairo: Mu’assasat Qurtubah, 1994), 6:157.

    [105] Ibn al-Jazarī, al-Nashr fī al-qirā’āt al-ʿashar, 1:44.

    [106] Related in al-Qurṭubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-aḥkām al-Qurān, ed. ʿAbd Allāh al-Turkī (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 2006), 1:134. See also, Ghānim Qaddūrī al-Ḥamad, Muḥāḍarāt fī ulūm al-Qurʾān (Amman: Dar Ammar, 2003), 145.

    [107] al-Naḥḥās, I’rab al-Qurʾān, (Riyadh: Dār ʿĀlam al-Kutub, 1988), 1:321–2. Note however the previously mentioned narration concerning this being an abrogated reading: Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 630, https://sunnah.com/muslim/5/264.

    [108] Reported in Sunan Sa’īd ibn Mansūr (d. 227 AH) according to al-Suyūṭī, al-Itqān fī ʿulūm al-Qurʾān (Beirut: DKI, 2000), 1:119.

    [109] Abdul Jalil, “Dhahirat al-ibdāl fī qirāʾat ʿAbd Allāh ibn Masʿūd wa-qīmatuhā al-tafsīrīyah,” Journal of Qur’anic Studies 15, no. 1 (2013): 168–213, 210.

    [110] Sunan al-Tirmidhī, book 47, no. 3208, https://library.islamweb.net/newlibrary/display_book.php?flag=1&bk_no=56&ID=5684.

    [111] al-Ḥākim al-Naysābūrī, al-Mustadrak ʿalā al-ṣaḥiḥayn, ed. Yūsuf ʿAbd al-Raḥmān Marʿashī (Beirut: Dār al-Maʿrifah, 1986), 2:451. The viewpoint adopted by al-Zarqānī is that Ibn Masʿūd selected another revealed ḥarf that was easier for the man to recite. al-Zarqānī, Manāhil al-ʿirfān, 1:133.

    [112] Al-Qurṭubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-aḥkām al-Qurān, ed. ʿAbd Allāh al-Turkī (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 2006), 19:132-133.

    [113] Al-Māwardī, al-Ḥāwī al-kabīr, (Beirut: DKI 1994) 2:115.

    [114] Taqi Uthmani, An Approach to the Qur’anic Sciences (Karachi: Darul Ishaat, 2007), 249–51.

    [115] Al-Ṭaḥāwī, Sharḥ mushkil al-āthār, ed. Shuʿayb al-Arnaʿūṭ, 16 vols. (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 1994), 8:118.

    [116] This can be contrasted with al-Zamakhsharī (d. 538 AH) who considered it permissible without having been abrogated. After quoting the incident of Abū al-Dardāʾ teaching a man to recite ṭaʿām al-fājir, al-Zamakhsharī writes, “And this is used to prove the permissibility of exchanging one word for another so long as it gives the same meaning.” He goes on to use this as an explanation for Abū Ḥanīfah permitting recitation in Persian. al-Zamakhsharī, al-Kashshāf (Beirut: Dar al-Marefah, 2009), 1003. See also the opinion of Abū al-Faḍl al-Rāzī in Maʿānī al-Aḥruf al-Sabʿa, 385-389.

    [117] For a detailed analysis of al-Ṭaḥāwī’s views, refer to Ammar Khatib, Taḥrīr madhhab al-Īmām al-Ṭaḥāwī fī maʿna al-aḥruf al-sabʿa, Tafsir Center for Quranic Studies, May 22, 2021, https://tafsir.net/article/5351.pdf.

    [118] Al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār, 1:370.

    [119] Al-Bāqillānī, al-Intiṣār, 1:65.

    [120] Ibn ʿAqīlah al-Makkī, al-Ziyada wal-iḥsān fī ʿulūm al-Qurʾān, (Sharjah: Markaz al-Buḥūth 2006) 1:491-492.

    [121] Reported by al-Dhahabī in Siyar aʿlām al-nubalāʾ, 1:347.

    [122] See for instance, Naṣīr Aḥmad Muḥibb, Ḥukm riwāyah al-ḥadīth bil-maʿnā, AJRSP 19 (2020):251-259.

    [123] Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 819a, https://sunnah.com/muslim/6/330

    [124] Muḥammad ibn Idrīs al-Shāfiʿī, The Epistle on Legal Theory: A Translation of Al-Shafii’s Risalah, trans. Joseph Lowry (New York: New York University Press, 2015), 119. Cf. al-Shāfiʿī, al-Risālah, (Cairo: al-Ḥalabī 1940), 275.

    [125] Al-Shāfiʿī, Ikhtilāf al-ḥadīth, (Beirut: Dār al-Fikr 1990), 600.

    [126] Al-Shāfiʿī, Ikhtilāf al-ḥadīth, 600.

    [127] See Abū al-Layth al-Samarqandī, Bustān al-ʿārifīn, chap. 29, concerning revelation of the Qur’an in 7 aḥruf, manuscript, Thomas Fisher Arabic Collection, University of Toronto, https://archive.org/details/bustanalarifin00unse/page/40; see also az-Zarkashī, al-Burhān, 1:326–27.

    [128] Abu Shāmah, al-Murshid al-wajeez ila ulum tata’alaq bil-Kitab al-Aziz (Beirut: Dar al-Kotob al-Ilmiyah, 2003), 105. See also p. 85 where Abu Shāmah states the ʿUthmānic recension was based only on the revealed wording (lafdh al-munazzal) and not the substituted synonym words (lafdh al-murādif).

    [129] Abu Shāmah, 109. The quote from al-Baghawī reads, “The meaning of these aḥruf is not that every group reads according to what matches their dialect without instruction (min ghayrī tawqīf) but rather all of these ḥurūf are mentioned (mansusah) and all of them are the speech of God (kalām Allah) with which the trustworthy spirit (i.e., Jibrīl) descended upon the Prophet.” See al-Baghawī, Sharḥ al-sunnah (Beirut: Maktabah Islami, 1983), 4:509.

    [130] Abu Shāmah, 112. On the same page, he also states that differences between the ʿUthmānic codices were all revealed.

    [131] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī (Riyadh: Dar al-Taybah, 2005), 11:191. Commenting on Ibn Hajar’s quote, ʿAbd al-Hādī Ḥamītu supports this view and states this concession was present until the unanimous consensus of the companions on the ʿUthmānic codex. Ḥamītu, Ikhtilāf al-qirāʾāt wa atharuhu fī al-tafsīr wa istinbāṭ al-aḥkām (Manama: Islamic Affairs Ministry, 2010), 40.

    [132] Ibn al-Jazarī, Munjid al-muqriʾīn wa murshid al-ṭālibīn, ed. ʿAli al-ʿImrān (Makkah: Dar al-Fawāʾid 1998), 99.

    [133] Ibn al-Jazarī, Munjid, 95.

    [134] In addition to the above questions, there are other matters of uncertainty in the theory of qirā’ah bi-al-maʿnā. Did the Prophet ﷺ himself recite according to meaning? Was the primary impetus for reciting according to meaning the fact that a companion had an imperfect recollection of how the verse was recited by the Prophet and, thus, if they had recourse to a written parchment, would they subsequently revert back to the Prophet’s reading?

    [135] For a review of such theories, see the doctoral dissertation by Ammar Khatib,  Qirāʾāt al-ṣaḥābah al-khārijah ʿan khaṭṭ al-maṣāḥif al-ʿUthmāniyyah: dirāsah taʾsīlīyah tahlīlīyah (forthcoming). In 2018, the authors of this paper engaged in discussions with some of the proponents of such views. To date, the most significant published work advocating views of this nature is by Ṣāliḥ ibn Sulaymān al-Rājiḥī, al-Masāʾil al-kubra allatī khālafa fīhā al-Qurrāʾ al-Mutaʾakhkhirīn Ijmāʿ al-Mutaqaddimīn min al-Qurrāʾ, (Riyadh: Dar al-Ṣumayʿ 2022). See also Salwa bint Aḥmad al-Ḥārithī, al-Qirāʾah ʿalā sabʿat aḥruf bayna al-ijtihād wa al-tawqīf, BFDA, 36:5 (June 2020): 97-158 and Yasin Dutton, “Orality,” 32–34. More recently, similar views have been advanced in Tareq Moqbel, The Emergence of the Qirāʾāt: The Divine Permission Hypothesis, Journal of Islamic Studies, 2022;, etac032.

    [136] Arabic translation of Ignaz Goldziher’s work by ‘Abdul-Halim Najjar, Madhahib al-tafsīr al-Islāmī (Cairo, 1955). Shady Hekmat Nasser claims that Ibn ʿAṭīyah “openly embraces” this view that the canonical readings are not of Divine or Prophetic origin but rather “the result of the Readers’ interpretation (ijtihād) of the defective Uthmanic consonantal script” (Shady Nasser, The Transmission, 7, fn 9). However, in the provided reference, Ibn Aṭiyyah actually says nothing of the sort. What Ibn Aṭiyyah actually says is that the seven canonical readers used their ijtihād to select whatever variation from the aḥruf they found would conform to the mushaf, not that the variation itself was invented by ijtihādIjtihād was thus in selection, not invention. See Ibn ʿAṭīyah, al-Muḥarrar al-wajīz (Beirut: DKI, 2001), 1:48. The same incorrect claim using the same reference are repeated in Nasser’s second book. See Shady Hekmat Nasser, The Second Canonization of the Qur’an, (Leiden: Brill 2020), 61.

    [137] See, for instance, al-Aʿẓamī, History of the Qur’anic Text, 155–59.

    [138] Sunan Abī Dāwūd, no. 1477, https://sunnah.com/abudawud/8/62.

    [139] al-Naysābūrī, al-Mustadrak ʿalā al-ṣaḥīḥayn, 2:451.

    [140] Musnad Abī Yaʿla, no. 4022. Ibn Jinnī (d. 392 AH) discusses this and many other examples. While discussing the variant reading ascribed to Anas ibn Mālik for 9:57 and Anas’s statement that yajmahūn, yajmazūn, and yashtadūn mean the same thing, Ibn Jinnī states, “And the apparent meaning of this is that the salaf would recite one letter in place of another without a precedent simply on the basis of agreement in meaning… However, giving the benefit of the doubt to Anas would entail believing that a reading had already preceded with these three words—yajmahūn, yajmazūn, yasthadūn—so it was said ‘Recite with any that you wish.’ So all of them constitute a reading heard from the Prophet due to his saying, ‘The Qur’an has been revealed on seven aḥruf, all of them healing and sufficient.’” See Ibn Jinnī, al-Muḥtasib fī tabyīn wujūh shawadhdh al-qirāʾāt wa al-īḍāḥ ʿanhā (Dar Sazkin, 1406), 1:296.

    [141] For a comprehensive discussion of these reports, refer to Hamzah Awad, “Sharṭ Muwāfaqat al-Rasm al-ʿUthmānī” (PhD diss., University of Batna, Algeria, 2014), 124–38. If authentic, these reports are simply understood to relate to them expressing a preference for the reading they learned directly from the Prophet ﷺ over a reading they were unfamiliar with.

    [142] Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 4695, https://sunnah.com/urn/180290. Ibn Ḥajar explains that she was likely unfamiliar with the interpretation of the other reading. Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī (Cairo: Dār al-Rayan lil-Turath, 1986), 218, https://library.islamweb.net/newlibrary/display_book.php?idfrom=8477&idto=8478&bk_no=52&ID=2464.

    [143] Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, Tafsīr, 23:309–10. Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr (d. 463 AH) comments that Ali considered the ʿUthmānic reading to be a valid revealed reading but was expressing a preference for the reading he had learned. Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, al-Tamhīd (Egypt, 1967), 8:297; see also Hamzah Awad, “Sharṭ Muwāfaqah al-Rasm al-ʿUthmānī,” 138.

    [144] In verse 17:5, it is stated that Abū al-Sammal al-Adawi recited “faḥāsu” with a ح instead of a ج and when asked about it stated that they meant the same thing. Ibn Jinnī (d. 392 AH) states, “And this indicates that some of the reciters would choose readings without precedent (yatakhayyar bi-la riwāyah)” (Ibn Jinnī, al-Muḥtasib, 2:15). However, Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī (d. 606 AH) states about this variant, “It is necessary to understand that as him mentioning it as tafsīr of the words of the Qur’an, not that he actually made it part of the Qur’an, since if we were to adopt what Ibn Jinnī says it would entail no longer relying on the wording of the Qur’an and it would permit each individual to express a meaning using a word they thought was concordant with that meaning and then either being correct in that belief or erring, and this is an attack on the Qur’an, so it is evident that we must understand it according to what we have mentioned.” See al-Rāzī, Tafsīr al-Fakhr al-Rāzī (Cairo: Dār al-Fikr, 1981), 30:177.

    [145] Ṣaḥīḥ Ibn Ḥibbān, no. 747.

    [146] Ibn Mujāhid, Kitāb al-sabʿah fī al-qirāʾāt, 51. Similar statements have been related from Zaid ibn Thabit (al-Bayhaqi, al-Sunan al-kubrā, no. 3900) and Urwah ibn al-Zubayr.

    [147] al-Nasāʾī, al-Sunan al-kubrā, 2:539.

    [148] The essence of the story is in Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhari, no. 3617, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/61/124; however, the details of the man substituting words are found in Musnad Aḥmad (no. 13312), Ṣaḥīḥ Ibn Ḥibbān (no. 751), and Musnad Abī Dāwūd al-Ṭayālisī (no. 2119), among other sources.

    [149] al-Qurṭubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-aḥkām al-Qurʾān, ed. ʿAbd Allāh al-Turkī (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 2006), 12:180–81. al-Bayḥaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwah (Beirut: DKI, 1988), 7:160.

    [150] Sa’d said, “Verily the Qur’an was not revealed to ibn al-Musayyib nor his family.” al-Nasa’i, al-Sunan al-kubrā, no. 10996; Sunan Saʿīd ibn Manṣūr, 1:597.

    [151] al-Ṭaḥāwī, Mushkil al-āthār, 8:132–33.

    [152] Mustadrak al-Ḥākim, no. 5381. In another narration, we find that ʿUmar considered some of Ubayy’s variant readings to have been abrogated. ʿUmar said, “Ubayy is the best of us in recitation yet we leave some of what he recites. Ubayy says, ‘I have taken it from the mouth of Allah’s messenger so I will not leave it for anything.’ However, Allah says {We do not abrogate or cause a revelation to be forgotten except that we bring that which is better than it.}” (Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 5005, https://sunnah.com/bukhari/66/27). As Ibn Ḥajar explains, “ʿUmar is implying that Ubayy may not have been aware of a reading’s abrogation.” Fatḥ al-Bārī (Riyadh, 2001), 8:17.

    [153] al-Naysābūrī, al-Mustadrak ʿalā al-ṣaḥīḥayn, 2:451. This is analogous to the Prophet ﷺ permitting one who cannot recite any Qur’an to simply repeat subḥān Allāh (glory be to God) or alḥamdu lillāh (praise be to God) instead. See Sunan Abī Dāwūd, no. 832, https://sunnah.com/abudawud/2/442.

    [154] See Ibn al-Salāḥ, Fatāwā wa masāʾil Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ (Beirut: Dar al-Ma’rifah, 1986), 1:233; Ibn Taymīyah, Majmūʿ al-fatāwā (Mansoura: Dar El-Wafaa, 2005), 13:214; Ibn al-Jazarī, al-Nashr fī al-qirā’āt al-ʿashar, 1:32; al-Suyūṭī, al-Itqān (Beirut: Dar al-Kitab al-Arabi, 1999), 1:263; al-Zarkashī, al-Burhān fī ulūm al-Qur’ān, 1:332–33, who cites Ibn al-Ḥājib.

    [155] al-Qurṭubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-aḥkām al-Qurʾān, ed. ʿAbd Allāh al-Turkī (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risalah, 2006), 21:329–30. He also points out that the narration from Anas being used as proof is in fact a weak narration due to a disconnection in the chain.

    [156] Adrian Brockett writes, “Thus, if the Qur’an had been transmitted only orally for the first century, sizeable variations between texts such as are seen in the hadith and pre-Islamic poetry would be found and if it had been transmitted only in writing, sizeable variations such as in the different transmissions of the original document of the Constitution of Medina would be found. But neither is the case with the Qur’an.” Adrian Brockett, “The Value of the Hafs and Warsh Traditions for the Textual History of the Qur’an,” in Approaches to the History of Interpretation of the Qur’an, ed. Andrew Rippin (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), 44.

    [157] See Ibn Taymīyah, Jāmiʿ al-masāʾil (Jeddah: Majma’ al-Fiqhī al-Islāmī, 1422), 1:133.

    [158] Discussed under the section “Critiquing a different paradigm: qirāʾah bi-l-maʿnā.”

  • Women in Islamic Law: Examining Five Prevalent Myths

    Women in Islamic Law: Examining Five Prevalent Myths

    Abstract

    Concerns are often raised about the status of women in Islamic law. Often, misrepresentations and misconceptions about how women are treated by sharīʿah are used to advance the notion that Islam is misogynistic. This paper serves as a primer in examining five common misrepresentations of Islamic law as it relates to women, focusing on domestic abuse, divorce, legal testimony, inheritance law, and polygamy. By delving into the historic and contemporary nature and application of Islamic law, this paper seeks to provide clarity, background, and explanation in these five areas. While many more myths exist, our review of the five most prevalent myths seeks to introduce the reader to nuance and understanding as a counterpoint to common anti-Islamic rhetoric regarding the status of Muslim women.

    Introduction 

    What is Islamic law? To answer this question, we need to clarify the difference between “sharīʿah” and “fiqh.” In addition to its theological doctrines, and spiritual and ethical teachings, Islam came with a set of practical rules about how to live one’s life and conduct oneself in society. This set of rules, derived from Islam’s sacred sources, the Qur’an and the Prophet’s ﷺ teachings, are part of what is conventionally referred to as the sharīʿah, which literally means a “path.” 

    What many may not realize is that there is no such thing as a book called “The Sharīʿah” that lists all of these rules. That’s because in order to arrive at the rules, scholars study various texts of the Qur’an and sayings of the Prophet ﷺ in order to derive rulings. There are core issues where the texts are definitive and unequivocal (qaṭʿī) and there are other subsidiary probabilistic issues (ẓannī) where scholars must rely on human interpretation to understand how these texts are to be implemented. 

    This process results in fiqh, which is the scholarly discipline of studying the practical rulings of the sharīʿah derived from its sources. Aside from the fundamentals that everyone agrees on, most subsidiary issues in fiqh have always been subject to multiple opinions because scholars naturally differ in their interpretations. Thus we have the four most famous schools of Islamic law in Sunni Islam—the schools of Abū Ḥanīfah (d. 150 H), Mālik (d. 179 H), al-Shāfiʿī (d. 204 H), and Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal (d. 240 H), but also less famous other scholars who taught their own fiqh even though they did not garner the same following as the earlier four: Sufyān al-Thawrī (d. 181 H), al-Layth ibn Saʿd (d. 175 H), al-Awzāʿī (d. 157 H), Abū Thawr (d. 240 H), Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī (d. 310 H). Fiqh requires extensive knowledge of the scriptural sources and the classical sciences of Arabic to ensure that texts are not misinterpreted nor manipulated to wrong ends. In the case of these common myths about women in Islam, certain points from scripture are distorted to present a misogynistic caricature of Islam, which is far removed from the true teachings of the faith. These misinterpretations can be corrected with reference to other texts and the traditional interpretations of scholars, as well as historical precedents in application.

    Some aspects of fiqh may also change with time and place (taghayyur al-fatwā bi-taghayyur al-zamān wa-l-makān) because the way to best apply a certain ruling often depends on circumstances. Sometimes a legal verdict (fatwā) was first made in a particular socio-cultural context only for it to be adapted as circumstances changed. It is important to also note that historically scholars have challenged opinions that lacked scriptural support, and argued for a preferred opinion based on evidence. This is actually a necessary part of fiqh—the need for critical re-evaluation by qualified scholars, to ensure that the ways rulings are being implemented accurately serve the goals of the sharīʿah (For a more detailed discussion refer to Shari’ah in Today’s World: Renewing Islamic Discourse and Difference of opinion: where do we draw the line?).

    General Principles Concerning Islamic Law and Women

    Islam invites humanity to an ethico-legal framework constructed upon God’s Divine Wisdom and Justice: “Does He not know best, He who created? And He is the Knower of all subtleties, the All-Aware” (Qur’an 67:14). All human civilizations draw upon some ethical value system in order to construct norms of conduct. While most societies agree upon some fundamental principles, the drastic variation between the moral standards of different societies has been cited as proof in favor of moral relativism.[1] Meanwhile, those who believe in the existence of objective morals find it difficult to anchor their values in a materialistic conception of the universe bereft of any purpose. The Islamic concept of humanity being Divinely assigned the task of establishing virtue provides such ontological anchorage.

    Islam maintains that humanity stands in need of Divine Guidance in order to attain true prosperity in this life and the next, and secondly, that the entire collective system of rulings and regulations that comprise Islamic Law are ultimately ordained for humanity’s benefit/best interests (maṣlaḥah). Thus, Ibn al-Qayyim (d. 751 H) writes, “Verily the Sharīʿah is constructed and founded upon wisdom and serving humankind’s best interests in this life and the next.”[2] Similarly, Abū Isḥāq Al-Shāṭibī (d. 790 H) writes, “The established principle is that the religious laws came solely in order to secure the best interests (maṣāliḥ) of the servants.”[3]

    The foundation upon which the Islamic system of law is built is the concept of justice. “For verily, God sent His Messengers and revealed His Scriptures so that humanity may establish justice,” writes Ibn al-Qayyim, echoing the Qur’an’s statement in verse 57:25 that messengers were sent “so that people may uphold justice.”[4] Crucial to this conception of justice is the fact that all human beings—regardless of gender or ethnicity—have an equal standing before God and attain distinction only through the pursuit of virtue: “O Humankind, verily We created you from male and female and made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another. Verily, the noblest amongst you in the sight of God is the most pious. Indeed, God is All-Knowing, All-Aware” (Qur’an 49:13). The Qur’an is rather explicit that God does not discriminate between genders: “I will not lose sight of any who labors in My Way, whether male or female, you are of one another” (Qur’an 3:195). As explained by the classical exegetes, the phrase “you are of one another” indicates that men and women have an equal rank before God and receive the same reward for their deeds.[5] The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ stated, “God does not look at your external appearances or your physical bodies, but rather He looks at the condition of your hearts and your deeds.”[6]

    Moreover, Islamic Law has utilized as a general maxim the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ statement, “Women are the equal partners of men.”[7] Abū Sulaymān Al-Khaṭṭābī (d. 386 AH) writes, “His saying that women are counterparts of men means their equals and their likeness in creation and nature, as if they split off from men. In jurisprudence, it is affirmation of the analogy and equivalence in rulings, equal by equal. Such that if the speech is conveyed in the male grammatical form, it is also addressed to women, except for specific topics whose specification is established by evidence.”[8] In other words, as a general principle, all of the rulings in Islam apply to both men and women, unless otherwise specified due to a relevant gender difference, such as in the case of norms of dress (for a more detailed discussion refer to Do the Qur’an and Sunnah Speak More Often to Men than Women?). 

    There are of course indisputable biological and psychological differences between men and women which extend beyond obvious reproductive differences.[9] Biological differences include everything from size and growth disparities, average life expectancy (greater for women), relative risk of disease (e.g., the incidence of Alzheimer’s dementia is higher in women while the incidence of Parkinson’s dementia is higher in men),[10] to physical capabilities (e.g., weightlifting versus long-distance swimming).[11] In the realm of psychology, there is a difference in the relative predominance of personality types, with women generally ranking higher in traits of Agreeableness (including aspects of Politeness and Compassion) than men,[12] as well as differences in social-cognitive processes with women generally surpassing men in emotion recognition, empathy, perspective-taking, and other components of emotional intelligence.[13] Indeed, “the male is not like the female” the Qur’an reminds us (3:36). Many of these differences emerge quite early; research has found that amongst one-year-olds, girls are more likely than boys to show empathetic behaviors towards someone in distress.[14] Given gender differences in social and emotional development, parental roles are seen as complementary and not redundant; most fathers do not have the same nurturing capacity as most mothers, nor do they endure the burdens of childbirth; for these reasons, the Prophet ﷺ accorded a higher rank and loftier status to mothers over fathers.[15] 

    Some societal manifestations of gender differences may be seen as the outgrowth of inherent biological and psychological differences (in contradistinction to the radical social constructionist claim that all such differences are exclusively the result of cultural upbringing).[16] Consequently, there is good reason to expect that some practical rulings will differ between men and women to ensure better outcomes for both. It’s important to remember that fairness is not necessarily sameness. In the interest of justice, one would expect a Divinely revealed system of guidance to accommodate differences in those select instances where they prove relevant. For example, modesty in clothing is prescribed for both genders but what constitutes modest dress differs between the genders due to physical differences and underlying differences in the psychology of attraction between genders which remain constant across all cultures.[17] Islam’s guidance also shows us that some presumed gender differences are not well-founded. For instance, culturally it is often assumed that beautification is solely the domain of women, whereas the Prophet’s ﷺ cousin Ibn ʿAbbās identified it as a reciprocal aspect of the marital relationship: “I love to beautify myself for my wife just as I would love for her to beautify herself for me, because God says ‘Wives have [rights] similar to their [obligations], according to what is recognized to be fair.’”[18]

    Many Muslim women combating the mistreatment of women within their own communities find strength and empowerment in the spiritual teachings of Islam and its code of values, and in a call for a return to the Prophetic exemplary moral character. Indeed, the Prophet’s ﷺ emphasis on women’s rights was so central to his call that he reiterated it in his famous farewell sermon, “My parting counsel (waṣīyya) to you is to treat women with kindness,”[19] and throughout his life he emphasized, “The best of you are those who are best to your women.”[20] He criticized the custom of gender bias in favor of sons and taught, “Treat your children equally when you give gifts. And if I were to favor anyone over another, I would favor women over men.”[21]

    To presume that Western liberalism represents the standard of moral progress to which all other societies must conform is nothing short of a cultural imperialism that ignores and marginalizes the experiences of women of other cultures, and calls upon them to erase their identities and embrace the ‘superior’ values of European/North American women. Equating progress with Westernization and calling for a departure from religious tradition actually undermines the efforts of those women for whom religious identity is a source of empowerment and their greatest tool in rectifying gender oppression and misogyny. As Anna Korteweg writes, “A failure to recognize that Muslim women’s agency can be embedded in religion is problematic, not only because it narrows public debate, but also because it risks a narrowing of possible policy responses to concerns of immigrants from the global South to the North.”[22] 

    Moreover, critics have argued that far from representing a bastion of moral enlightenment, the modern Western value system is riddled with internal contradictions such as promoting a culture of promiscuity and sexual exploitation of women while simultaneously aiming to desexualize and de-objectify male perceptions of women.[23] In attempting to dismantle the ‘patriarchal’ norm of the male breadwinner and female homemaker, women have poured into the labor market, galvanizing the engines of capitalism[24] in ways that have unfairly burdened some women.[25] Serious progress in the realm of women’s rights will require setting aside preconceived notions, stereotyped tropes, and slogans and listening to the experiences of women of all backgrounds, including Muslim women.

    Myth 1: Islam instructs men to beat their wives

    First of all, Islam affirms that marriage must be based on love and mercy between spouses—“And amongst God’s signs is that He created for you spouses from amongst you and placed between you love and mercy” (Qur’an 30:21). Islam unequivocally condemns all forms of cruelty and abuse; the Prophet ﷺ stated “there is to be no harm nor reciprocating of harm.”[26] One of the Islamic ethical teachings scholars have recorded is the saying, “An honorable person treats women with honor and respect, and only a despicable person treats women poorly.”[27] The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ made a clear pronouncement against domestic violence stating, “Do not strike the female servants of God”[28] and “Do not hit them and do not revile them.”[29] The Prophet ﷺ encouraged all Muslims to follow his example and by the testimony of his wife, ʿĀʾisha, he was someone who “never once hit a servant, a woman, nor struck anything with his hand.”[30] Moreover, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ actually invoked God’s wrath upon a person who engaged in domestic violence in the following incident:

    The wife of Al-Walīd ibn ʿUqbah came to the Prophet , and she complained to him saying, “O Messenger of God! Indeed, Al-Walīd has beaten me!” The Prophet replied, “Tell him: the Prophet has protected me.” She returned shortly thereafter and said, “He only hit me more!” The Prophet tore a piece from his garment (as a symbol of proof) and he said, “Say to him: Verily, the Messenger of God has given me protection.” It was not long before she returned and said, “He only hit me more!” The Prophet raised his hands and he said, “O God, you must deal with Al-Walīd for he has violated my command twice.”[31]

    What is important about this narration is that the Prophet ﷺ does not seek any justification or explanation from al-Walīd; in other words, he considers al-Walīd’s actions unacceptable regardless of the circumstances. He immediately declares his protection for the wife and does not make her feel as though she was to blame in any way, shape, or form. This is precisely the type of decisive action needed to protect women experiencing domestic abuse.

    The Prophet’s ﷺ words regarding al-Walīd serve as an incredibly stern warning against any physical abuse. Indeed, given all the foregoing evidence against marital cruelty and abuse, it would seem absurd to suggest that Islam condones domestic violence, so where does this notion come from? 

    People notoriously cite a passage in the Qur’an (4:34) where men are instructed to deal with a wife’s persistent misconduct by first persuading and advising them, followed by deserting the marital bed, before being given permission to take the last resort of ḍarb—a word that literally means ‘to hit’ in the Arabic language, and has become the epicenter of debate among modern Muslims. Some modern scholars have argued that given its usage in other places in the Qur’an (e.g., 43:5), the word should actually be translated here as ‘to leave’ (al-mufāraqah wa al-tark).[32] However, this is not the way the verse was understood traditionally. Historically, this word was understood by Muslim jurists and exegetes[33] to indicate that in limited circumstances men could physically discipline their wives just as they would physically discipline their children—which, without further qualification, may sound like Sean Connery’s view[34] of male authority. 

    Indeed, the presumption of male disciplinary authority in the household was common in most pre-modern cultures. In the pre-modern world, societies tended towards collectivism over individualism, and were thus hierarchically structured with the family as the basic unit, and the male breadwinner as the de facto leader of the family responsible for the discipline of the children and his wife.[35] Thus, writings in diverse civilizations often spoke candidly on this authority. For instance, the fifteenth century Italian friar, Cherubino da Siena, instructs men in dealing with ‘crude and shifty’ wives: “But if your wife is of a servile disposition and has a crude and shifty spirit so that pleasant words have no effect, scold her sharply, bully and terrify her. And if this still does not work, take up a stick and beat her soundly, for it is better to punish the body and correct the soul than to damage the soul and spare the body.”[36]

    Despite affirming the historically common notion of male disciplinary authority, classical Muslim scholars did maintain a strong aversion to violence, universally condemning injurious hitting or beating (ḍarb mubarriḥ), some suggesting instead the use of an innocuous “folded handkerchief” (mandīl malfūf).[37] The Ḥanbalī jurist al-Buhūtī (d. 1051 AH) stated, “It is better to avoid hitting altogether in order to preserve marital love.”[38] Historical court records demonstrate that Muslim judges routinely ruled that husbands who caused any physical harm to their wives were to be punished.[39] Moreover, it was explicitly written in jurisprudential manuals, like that of the Mālikī jurist al-Dasūqī (d. 1230 AH), that if a woman complained to a judge of being harmed by her husband’s insults, abandonment, or physical hitting, then the judge could order that the husband himself be physically beaten in retribution.[40] The Shāfiʿī jurist al-Rāfiʿī stated that if the husband was of bad character and irritated his wife for no reason then his behaviour would be forbidden by the judge and if he repeated it, he would be punished.[41] 

    In the writings of jurists the general rule remained that hitting one’s spouse was sinful and prohibited (ḥarām) but in exceptional cases as a last resort it was deemed a disliked dispensation (rukhṣah).[42] Even then, abandoning it altogether was always preferred and if were known to be without benefit then it was again declared prohibited (ḥarām).[43] The Hanbalī scholar Ibn al-Jawzī (d. 597 H) observed that if someone did not heed verbal admonition, they were unlikely to benefit from physical discipline, and that hitting only increases the feelings of aversion in the heart, and therefore is better off avoided.[44] By providing a stepwise framework for marital conflict resolution, scholars argued that verse 4:34 was actually intended to eradicate spousal abuse and domestic violence.

    Moreover, the relevance of socioeconomic factors to marital roles was acknowledged. The classical commentator al-Qurṭubī (d. 671 H) actually stated that a man’s authority in the family is contingent on his role as the breadwinner, and when he is unable to financially provide for her, he is no longer considered to have such authority (qawāmiyyah) over his wife.[45] Ibn ʿĀshūr (d. 1393 H) opined that the relevance of such instructions depended on one’s socioeconomic class and culture, as some Bedouins, women included, did not consider such disciplinary measures to constitute transgression. Meanwhile, in other families, a man attempting to physically discipline his wife would completely devastate any hopes of reconciliation and marital harmony. Ibn ʿĀshūr also went so far as to say, 

    It is lawful for the authorities, when they know that spouses will not be able to implement the legislated reprimands appropriately, or if they will not stop from overstepping their limits, then the authorities can stop them from implementing such reprimands and announce that anyone who hits his wife will be liable to punishment, in order to avert the escalation of harm between spouses, particularly in times of weak personal restraint.[46]

    As new situations arise, and the norms of human interactions and cultural expectations changes, scholars like Ibn ʿĀshūr considered how the implementation of such rulings was impacted and what would best yield the Qur’anic objective of marital harmony. In the Modern era, there has been a dramatic shift in cultural gender roles with women’s entry into the labor force and higher education, as well as with the emergence of a culture of individualism.[47] If the preindustrial economic context resulted in jurists applying 4:34 as a license for a very limited form of physical discipline, does that apply to the modern socioeconomic context or would it result in greater harm? Some scholars argued that in the majority of cases a situation would not arise in which physical discipline could be applied, and particularly when both spouses are rational and virtuous, such situations should categorically never arise.[48]

    For Muslims, there is nothing more authoritative in guiding how to implement the Qur’an than the Prophetic example. As the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, “None hits except the worst amongst you (shirārukum).”[49] There is now a wealth of psychological data connecting spousal violence to a host of negative mental health outcomes for women including major depression, suicidal thoughts, and post-traumatic stress disorder and that children and adolescents who witness violence towards their mother may also suffer from dysfunctional relationships, learning disabilities, and mental health challenges.[50] The Prophet ﷺ himself explained the psychological impact hitting would have on a marital relationship in eliminating any feelings of warmth, affection, and intimacy: “How could any of you strike his wife like striking a stallion camel and then hope to embrace her?”[51]

    Muslim scholars must maintain their commitment to standing against injustice without sacrificing their academic integrity and theological commitment to upholding the literal truth of God’s words in scripture. Qur’anic verses are not to be interpreted in isolation while ignoring the fundamental values of Islam established in other Qur’anic passages and the life of the Prophet ﷺ. Indeed, the Qur’an notes that selectively using parts of scripture to justify transgression is a disease of the heart (Qur’an 3:7). Implementing Qur’anic instructions must be done in a manner that is most consonant with the collective teachings of the Qur’an, the Prophetic example, and the understanding of the companions and early generations. Given that the Qur’an characterizes marital relationships as loving and compassionate, how can one apply verse 4:34 in a manner that is most conducive to fostering marital love?

    The famous early Makkan jurist and Qur’anic exegete ʿAṭāʾ ibn Abī Rabāḥ (d. 114 AH) said about verse 4:34, “A man does not strike his wife, rather he may only show his anger.”[52] This is a very clear, unequivocal, and explicit pronouncement against domestic violence. It turns out ʿAṭāʾ is the same one who narrated from his teacher ʿAbd-Allah ibn ʿAbbās the latter’s statement that this verse is to be implemented with only a siwāk (small twig used as a toothbrush) or its like; i.e., something that cannot cause pain.[53] ʿAṭāʾ must have understood by this that Ibn ʿAbbās disdained any suggestion of physical violence, and interpreted the verse to be talking about a purely symbolic gesture (ramziya) aimed at conveying the gravity of the situation and laying out conclusively that the marital relationship cannot continue under such circumstances.[54] 

    In other words, the Qur’anic passage, based on the understanding of ʿAṭāʾ, would be essentially advising one to “convey the gravity of the situation to avoid the termination of the family,” “seek the final means of preserving or ending the relationship,” “emphasize the consequences,” etc. This follows from the Prophet’s ﷺ own conduct with his wives.[55] This approach does not represent a departure from the Prophetic tradition, but the purest return to it. It follows that the Qur’anic verse cannot be understood to permit a man to physically abuse his wife or harm her in any way, particularly given that the Prophet ﷺ cursed the man who hit his wife, the Prophet’s wife praised his example of being someone who never hit, and the Qur’an seeks for marriages to be filled with love and mercy—the clear antithesis of physical abuse.

    Myth 2: Women cannot divorce

    Marriage is one of the most important institutions in Islam and it serves as a primary source for stability and harmony. In its most basic form, it is a legal contract between two individuals committed to fulfilling each other’s rights and responsibilities.[56] It should not, however, come as a surprise that Islam seeks to avoid divorce; one tradition even describes it as the most hated of permissible acts to God.[57] The words of the Prophet ﷺ serve to emphasize the significance of healthy marriages; that said, once a marriage is threatened by any number of factors (e.g., impotency, domestic abuse), Islamic law provides recourse for either spouse to seek a divorce. Any desire to terminate this contract, however, requires explicit procedures.[58] 

    There are multiple types of legal divorce in Islam. The most common is known as ṭalāq, which is derived from the root letters in Arabic ṭ-l-q that literally mean to absolve a person from a responsibility (i.e., the obligations of marriage). Initiating this type of divorce is limited to the husband and can lead to immediate dissolution of the marriage.[59] Although a woman does not have the unilateral right to divorce, the four main Sunnī schools of law recognized the possibility for a husband to delegate the power of initiating divorce to his wife, in what is known as ṭalāq al-tafwīḍ.[60] For example, the Hanafi school of law maintains that a woman can stipulate in her marriage contract the right to divorce (anna amrahā bi-yadihā).[61] Similarly, the Mālikis allow the wife to condition a right to divorce in the event that her husband harms her, marries another wife, or engages in a specific action that the wife stipulated against.[62]

    Ṭalāq, despite it being the right of the husband, is not always his easiest option. In fact, it often entails extensive financial burdens, ironically revealing the deeper rights intended for women. Upon divorce, for example, women are not only entitled to financial maintenance until the end of their waiting period (which can last up to a few years if they are pregnant and/or breastfeeding), but also their stipulated deferred dowry as well as a suitable gift (mutʿah). Furthermore, a husband who is also a father is required to pay the expenses of his children, no matter who receives custody.[63] 

    Another category of divorce is that of tafrīq or faskh: dissolution of the marriage through a judicial process.[64] In other words, the wife, or her blood relatives, could complain of her situation to a judge, who could then grant her a divorce without the consent of her husband. There are a number of valid reasons for a wife to seek a judicial annulment of her marriage. The Malikis, for example, categorized a handful of causes such as “her husband’s cruelty, refusal or inability to maintain her, desertion, or serious disease or ailment that would make a continuance of the marriage harmful to the wife.”[65] If any of these reasons were met, the judge could issue a divorce and preserve the rights of the wife in the process (i.e., she could keep her dower and the husband was required to maintain her living expenses until her waiting period ended).[66] 

    In the event that the wife desires to leave her husband for reasons not deemed extenuating circumstances by the schools of law, she has the right to a khulʿ divorce, defined by jurists as the wife’s ability to leave the marriage in exchange for compensation to her husband—often equal to the dower her husband paid her at the commencement of or throughout their marriage.[67] This is based on a hadith of the Prophet ﷺ in which Jamilah bint Abdallah, the wife of Thabit ibn Qays, approached the Messenger seeking to be divorced from her husband on grounds not related to his morality or religiosity; on the contrary, she was concerned for her own morality if she remained in her marriage, perhaps since she may not have found her husband attractive and would therefore be tempted by impermissible means to fulfill her desires.[68] The Prophet ﷺ then suggested to Jamilah to return her “garden” (i.e., dower) in exchange for her divorce, which he then told Thabit to accept. 

    Although many jurists contended that a judge was not required for this form of separation, scholars like the Mālikī Ibn Ishaq warned judges to be wary of false khulʿ proceedings in which a wife was coerced into khulʿ so the husband did not have to complete his payments in maintaining her and would demand she repay the dower he had formerly given her.[69] On such occasions, if a woman took her case to court and demonstrated her husband’s coercion and harm in the process, the judge could force the husband to give back everything he took from her.[70] Despite these occasional stratagems, women throughout the Ottoman Empire[71] were well aware of the workings of the law and knew precisely the measures needed when seeking a divorce or obtaining their rights. Khulʿ divorces were very commonplace, constituting the majority form of divorce throughout the Mamluk Empire and continuing on throughout Ottoman society.[72] 

    Given all of this, it would be naive to ignore the fact that ṭalāq grants husbands the unquestionable authority to divorce their wives at will and has hence largely been considered to privilege men. Yet, Islamic courts and the judges and muftis who headed them were not blind to this; in fact, they regulated this unlimited authority by increasing responsibilities for the husband to fulfill and consequently more ways for women to seek recourse.[73] Mālikī scholars, for example, argued that it is the wife’s right that her husband treat her kindly. Thus, if he intentionally ignores her or “turns his head away from her in bed” for no reason and she feels harmed by his treatment, then she can request a divorce.[74] Moreover, in the case of annulling a marriage on the basis of genital defects (e.g., impotency, castration) or a serious ailment like insanity or leprosy, Ḥanafī scholars limited this right to wives alone by explicitly acknowledging that husbands have recourse to ṭalāq.[75] Put differently, since the husband has unilateral authority to ṭalāq, he is not given the right to annul the marriage and hence must pay the full dower if he desires to end the marriage. In this way, jurists afforded the wife unique opportunities to withdraw from the marriage.[76]

    In other words, judges proactively sought to protect the rights of women in their practice and interpretation of the jurisprudential texts. Of course, the way the texts are applied by judges in day-to-day life is not typically apparent to the average reader. During the early 20th century, the laws of various Muslim-majority lands underwent waves of reform, especially in areas of family law. For instance, in both the Ottoman Empire and later in nation-states like Egypt, reform in legislation entailed expanding the list of reasons for women to seek a judicial divorce to include other situations such as injury or imprisonment of the husband.[77] Furthermore, a number of countries, such as Algeria, Malaysia, and Somalia not only obligated a man to certify his pronouncement of divorce through notarization but also required the couple to undergo arbitration before finalizing the divorce, thereby biasing the process towards reconciliation.[78] In many ways, these developments ended up attempting to capture in the form of legislation some of the ideals that had always been a practiced reality in the way that judges historically enacted the law.

    Myth 3: A woman’s testimony is worth only half a man’s

    One of the most common criticisms of Islam’s treatment of women stems from a verse in the Qur’an that requires two female witnesses to testify in the place of one male witness: 

    You who believe, when you contract a debt for a stated term, put it down in writing…Call in two men as witnesses. If two men are not there, then call one man and two women out of those you approve as witnesses, so that if one of the two women should forget [or err][79] the other can remind her.[80]

    A literal reading of this verse can lead one to assume that women are generally more likely to err than men; accordingly, the testimony of a woman would be de facto half of a man’s.[81] Some premodern Qur’anic exegetes like Fakhr al-Din al-Razi (d. 606 H) explained this verse by asserting the biological or psychological inferiority of women. It is crucial to note, however, that the exegetes who made such assertions about the inherent deficiencies in women’s biology drew upon Ancient Greek physiology to substantiate their argument, rather than any scriptural quotes from Qur’an or hadith that speak on the physiological constitutions of women versus men. Thus, Al-Rāzī states, concerning 2: 282, “And the meaning is that forgetfulness predominates in the physiology of women due to the abundance of moisture and coldness in their physical constitutions.”[82] But it was Hippocrates (d. 377 BC) who concocted this notion, arguing that the female body contains excessive moisture and coldness (and menses being the time that excess moisture was expelled), while the male body is relatively healthier and superior due to heat and dryness.[83]

    Other scholars have cast aside Hellenistic physiology as a suitable backdrop to Qur’anic exegesis and have argued that the requirement of two women to one man was not a result of an ontological difference between genders. Rather, it was the fact that in most societies, women were not involved in the conventional economic sphere; thus, since a woman was most likely unfamiliar with contracts, another woman should testify as well to reinforce her statement.[84] Others have noted that this also protected women from being pressured or coerced by wealthy male relatives to testify in their favor, and provided a source of support and reinforcement so that a woman’s testimony would not make her a target of either party in a financial dispute.[85] Scholars determined that the substitution of two women for a man is not universal, but was only intended to be applied in certain areas of law, while in other areas of law female testimony may even be deemed superior to male testimony, in matters familiar to women (fi ma la yaṭṭaliʿu ʿalayhi illa al-nisāʾ).[86] And the requirement for two women in testimony was not applied universally in financial matters either; Mu’awiyah passed a judgment concerning housing based on the sole testimony of Umm Salamah, without requiring any corroboration.[87] 

    Moreover, when it came to narrating the words of the Prophet ﷺ and contributing to the hadith corpus that would become the second major source of Islamic law after the Qur’an, there was no distinction whatsoever between men and women. There were simply two qualifications—not necessarily easy to fulfill—that were required for any narrator to be a transmitter of hadithʿadālah, integrity, and ḍabṭ, reliability in memory.[88] This fact has gone undisputed within Islamic scholarship from its inception, so it comes as no surprise that the wife of the Prophet ﷺ, Aisha, was among the top five narrators of hadith. Or the fact that Akram al-Nadwī has recorded the names and stories of over eight thousand women who not only studied and transmitted hadith, but were the teachers of some of the most influential male scholars in Muslim history.[89] 

    This all being said, nevertheless, it must be taken into consideration that scholars made a distinction between testimony (shahāda) and narration (riwāya), thereby justifying the need for two women to one man in cases of testimony but not narration.[90] Although both categories are reports, for example, Imām al-Qarāfī distinguished testimony as impacting the rights of other individuals, whereas a narration refers to a general matter or statement that would only affect the person narrating.[91] In other words, witnessing a transaction of a debt will directly affect the debtor and debtee while reporting a hadith does not have a direct effect on the rights of other individuals. 

    Mohammed Fadel explains this binary as “political” and “normative” discourse.[92] The former usually takes place in a courtroom and results in immediate consequences for the plaintiff or defendant, and is hence political. “Normative discourse, on the other hand, if admitted, establishes a universal norm or fact, but only potentially affects tangible interests.”[93] These are important distinctions made by scholars because they generated different criteria for determining who was eligible to be a witness versus a narrator.[94] As discussed above, in hadith transmission, the normative discourse was unanimously gender-neutral as long as the narrator met the requirements for integrity and soundness. Included in this sphere was also interpreting revelation (e.g., Qur’anic exegesis) and issuing fatwas (legal opinions), activities in which both men and women engaged.[95] Thus, the various debates on female witnesses are limited to the political (judicial) realm. 

    Although a number of historical scholars claimed “that women were inherently less reliable than men,” it was very difficult to make this claim on epistemological grounds. Al-Qarāfī, for example, attempted to argue that two women were required in lieu of one man because they were “deficient in reason and intellect.”[96] Ibn al-Shatt, the commentator on al-Qarāfī’s text, however, pointed out that this could not hold true because if this premise was accepted, then women could not be reliable narrators of hadith. Fadel demonstrates that many scholars, including the likes of the Maliki jurist al-Qarāfī and the Hanafi jurist al-Ṭarābulsī, (d. 844 H) could not argue the need for two women on the basis of an inherent deficiency; rather, they fell back on sociological arguments, such as the difficulty of women attending court proceedings to testify or their lack of involvement in social and political affairs that would preclude them serving as reliable witnesses.[97] On the other hand, when it came to legal testimony that was relegated to the private domain (e.g., birth), the testimony of one woman was equal to, and often more worthy than, the testimony of one man since there was no doubt that a woman was more experienced in that arena.[98] Ibn Qudamah (d. 620 H), in his most famous compendium on Islamic jurisprudence al-Mughnī, explained that in matters of nursing, childbirth, menstruation, chastity, and physical defects a single female witness is accepted. 

    Not all scholars, however, insisted on the political and normative dichotomy, nor the public versus private realms. Hanbalite scholars Ibn Taymiyyah and Ibn al-Qayyim rejected these categorizations and argued that if either (testimony or narration) were to be more important, narrating a hadith would require more care because it deals with the words and actions of our beloved Prophet ﷺ.[99] Thus, since a woman’s transmission of hadith is to be accepted, if a woman could prove herself to be credible in testifying in other areas—deemed political and impenetrable to women by other scholars—then her testimony should be accepted. The verse requiring two women for contracts, on the other hand, was referring to specific testimonies dealing with future disputes and had no effect on former disputes or on serving as a witness before a judge.[100] For this reason, Ibn al-Qayyim comments on the verse as follows: 

    There is no doubt that the reason for a plurality [of women in the Qur’anic verse] is [only] in recording testimony. However, when a woman is intelligent and remembers and is trustworthy in her religion, then the purpose [of testimony] is attained through her statement just as it is in her transmissions [in] religious [contexts].[101] 

    Ibn al-Qayyim also notes that the degree of certainty that would be attained through the legal testimony of eminent Muslim women, such as Umm Attiyah and Umm Salamah and their likes, if they were to serve as witnesses in a dispute, would be greater than any ordinary man.[102] It should also be noted that Islam encourages taking into consideration empirical evidence,[103] and data in the field of memory studies have demonstrated that neither gender is categorically superior in memory, but rather there are subtle differences in the way men and women remember information. Elizabeth Loftus writes in her seminal paper on the subject of gender differences in memory, 

    The results were clear-cut. Males were more accurate and less suggestible about the male-oriented items while females were more accurate and less suggestible about the female-oriented items. This finding provided clear support for the hypothesis that females and males tend to be accurate on different types of items, perhaps indicating their differential interest in particular items and corresponding differential amounts of attention paid to those items.[104] 

    Interestingly, this is precisely what is observed in the Qur’anic exegesis Tafsīr al-Manar on the subject of the Qur’anic verse in question: “It is from the nature of the human being (tabʿ al-bashar), whether male or female, that their memory will be stronger for matters that are of importance to them and with which they are more abundantly involved.”[105] Thus, the author explains that in light of the prevailing norms of men being involved in financial transactions and women in domestic affairs, the Qur’an delineated its recommendations accordingly, based on differences in the habitual activities of each gender. 

    Some contemporary scholars have argued that when sociocultural circumstances differ and a woman’s daily activities and practices change, her testimony would be equivalent to a man in all legal proceedings.[106] This argument goes back to the question of what is the underlying ratio legis (ʿillah) of the gender distinction in verse 2:282? Does the verse mention having two women because there is a universal ontological or biological difference in the capacity of men and women that significantly disadvantages the latter? Such a view is not empirically tenable and is refuted by the gender equality in riwayah. Or is the ratio legis a sociological distinction based on prevailing economic circumstances which may or may not be effective in various societies today? It is claimed by some contemporary scholars that jurists like Ibn Taymiyyah and Ibn al-Qayyim understood that the ratio legis was, in fact, the prevailing customs.[107] Accordingly, the verse was making a pragmatic distinction for the community and the explicit objective of the verse is the establishment of justice. Of course, part of this debate is a moot point since, as Mahmud Shaltūt (d. 1383 H) observes, the verse does not stipulate a judicial requirement but merely a recommended personal practice for individuals seeking to document their financial transactions more reliably.[108] Indeed, this very verse is cited as a textbook example of a scenario in which the imperative verb is meant simply as a recommended advice for worldly affairs (irshād).[109] The precise manner in which such recommendations are best enacted in diverse scenarios today with digital receipts for every transaction is an ongoing discussion for contemporary jurists and scholars and not the aim of this paper. Nonetheless, given the foregoing discussion clarifying the intent of the verse and the abundance of information on women’s testimony in hadith, the aforementioned points make clear that regardless of what scholars have deemed to be the proper application of those rulings in our times, they have nothing to do with women being less trustworthy than men. 

    Myth 4: Inheritance laws favor men over women

    The Qu’ran, in Surah 4 Verse 7, states: “Men shall have a share of what their parents and closest relatives leave, and women shall have a share of what their parents and closest relatives leave, whether the legacy be small or large: this is ordained by God.” Al-Wāḥidī (d. 468 H), in his Qur’anic exegesis, explains that this verse was revealed to address the situation of a widow whose daughters were left destitute by her husband’s male heirs.[110] The verse thus establishes the legal entitlement of both men and women to inheritance since material maintenance is a legally protected right in Islam. It is notable that Islam’s declaration of inheritance for women preceded the Western world by a millenium, where “until the end of the sixteenth century, women were basically denied the right to inherit property.”[111]

    A few verses later, in Surah 4 Verse 11, the apportioning of the inheritance is laid out whereby male children are stipulated to receive more of their parents’ estate than daughters, which may on first read seem unfair and discriminatory. However, crucial to understanding the application of inheritance law in Islam is the system in which it occurs; i.e., within the larger system of Islamic finance. The piecemeal application of certain practices without an understanding of the larger picture and/or context and application may give the impression that Islamic inheritance law is unfair towards women. This, however, would be a hasty conclusion. Men receive greater shares of the inheritance in a system in which they function as the provider for the family, and in which a wife is entitled to the entirety of both her own wealth and husband’s wealth and a husband is entitled only to his own. This was the opinion of scholars such as Ibn Kathīr, who justified the discrepancy of inheritance between daughters and sons by this larger context of financial responsibilities.[112] 

    Moreover, a careful reading of the full breadth of Islamic inheritance rulings rebuts the notion that the rulings privilege men. While women inherit less than men in four situations, they inherit more than men in 16 situations, and equal to men in 10 situations.[113] Situations in which a woman receives more inheritance than a man include the case of a woman who dies leaving behind only a husband—in this case, the sisters of the mother of the deceased receive portions of the inheritance whereas the brothers of her father do not.[114] In other instances, such as some cases of a mother and father inheriting the wealth of their deceased child who has few siblings, both male and female receive equal shares. The same applies to instances of kalalatan, when one dies without any parents or children. In this case, siblings of the same mother are entitled to a share of a third of their deceased sibling’s estate, divided equally irrespective of gender.[115] 

    All instances in which there is a discrepancy between male and female heirs arise either due to a difference in proximity or rank of one’s relationship to the deceased, or based on one’s responsibility to financially provide for another.[116] Given the larger system of financial responsibilities, the distribution of wealth was intended to equalize all recipients amongst the deceased’s family. All of Islam’s rulings must be understood as interconnected, where a woman has the legal right to be provided for. 

    A frequent objection to the son-daughter inheritance discrepancy in 4:11 would be that this “one-size-fits-all” approach does not cater to circumstances in which women do not have the benefit of a male breadwinner, or have more dependents, or extenuating financial circumstances that would warrant a greater portion of inheritance. It is important to recognize that Islamic law has the capacity to account for unique financial circumstances as well, through a variety of other mechanisms. One topic that has received considerable discussion in Islamic jurisprudence is the concept of the wasiyya (bequest). Prior to the regulations of Islamic inheritance being revealed, a person had the option to designate their inheritance to any family member based on verse 2:180. However following the revelation of the fixed shares in verse 4:11, a person was only allowed to designate up to one-third of the total estate as a bequest to be given to anyone whom they chose—except if that person is already designated a share in the Qur’an. This sole condition is expressed by the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, “There is to be no waṣiyya given to an heir, except if the other heirs agree to it.”[117] Thus, according to the vast majority of scholars (including Mālik, Shāfiʿī, Abū Ḥanifah, Aḥmad ibn Ḥanbal, Sufyān al-Thawrī, al-Awzaʿī, Abū Thawr, and Isḥāq ibn Rāhawayh) it would be acceptable for the deceased to designate up to one-third of the entire estate for a female heir in addition to her fixed share, provided the remaining heirs consent.[118] If some of them consent but not all, the bequest would only be taken from those who consented.

    Moreover, it is entirely acceptable for up to one-third of the entire estate to be designated to non-heirs (such as one’s grandchildren) irrespective of whether the heirs approve or not.[119] Thus, an individual whose son may not need as much money as his daughter (let’s say she is a single mother with many children while he is well off) has the ability to designate a portion of his estate to the children of his daughter. This provides ample room within the framework of normative Islamic law to accommodate unique and exceptional cases without the need for any revision or reinterpretation.

    Discussions about Islamic laws of inheritance in the public arena and in major media outlets are often based on false caricatures and outright factual errors. For instance, following the protests in Tunisia against Islamic inheritance, a recent New York Times article contained the following statement:

    In Muslim countries, laws governing inheritance are derived from verses in the Quran; men generally receive larger, sometimes double, the shares that women get. Distant male relatives can supersede wives, sisters and daughters, leaving women not just bereaved but also destitute.[120]

    Unfortunately, this statement is patently false. By unanimous consensus of Muslim scholars and the explicit text of the Qur’an, wives and daughters always inherit and can never be superseded by anyone, let alone a distant relative, while siblings (male and female alike) are only superseded by the deceased’s descendants or father, but never a distant relative.

    The rules around Islamic inheritance are deep and nuanced. In fact, the field of algebra was largely developed to address matters of inheritance in Islam given the complexity of the topic, as seen in the case of the work Tanbīh al-Albāb by the great mathematician Ibn al-Banna’ al-Marrakūshī (d. 721 H). How and to whom inheritance is allocated is a complicated science, involving complex linear equations and laws of recompense. The blanket belief that women are inherently entitled to less inheritance than men is a superficial understanding of both larger Islamic law and its application to socio-economic realities. 

    Professor Almaric Rumsey, a 19th-century professor of law at King’s College in London who studied the Islamic inheritance system extensively, wrote:

    The Moohummudan [sic] law of inheritance comprises, beyond question, the most refined and elaborate system of rules for the devolution of property that is known to the civilized world, and its beauty and symmetry are such that it is worthy to be studied, not only by lawyers with a view to its practical application, but for its own sake, and by those who have no other object in view than their intellectual culture and gratification.[121]

    Myth 5: Muslim men oppress women through polygamy

    Polygamy is a practice that predates Islam and was prevalent in pre-Islamic Arabia. The practice of men taking more than one wife, or polygyny, was a widespread cultural norm of early Arab societies which Islam was first to regulate. The Qur’an’s mention of this occurs once, in Surah 4, Verse 3: “And if you fear that you shall not be able to deal justly with the orphans, marry women of your choice, two, or three, or four; But if you fear that you shall not be able to deal justly (with them), then only one, or that which your right hands possess. That will be more suitable, to prevent you from doing injustice.”[122] 

    In this verse, the Qur’an neither establishes new permissions for polygyny nor encourages it, rather it sets limitations on its practice. In a society where there were no prior limits on how many women a man could simultaneously marry, the Qur’an’s restriction to four wives was a means of regulating a societally entrenched practice in order to restore justice. Hence, it could be argued that by setting four as the maximum, the Qur’an imposed a restriction on men that was principally aimed at upholding the rights of women.[123] It is for this reason that premodern jurists did not consider the permission for polygyny to be in men’s favor or about servicing male desires.[124]

    Further, the Qur’anic exhortation to ‘marry only one’ is grounded in it being the most fair option to women and the preferred option as mentioned by classical jurists like Imam al-Shāfiʿī (d. 204 H).[125] The jurists held that the verse restricted polygynous marriages, largely due to the difficulty of maintaining equal treatment towards all wives,[126] which is later mentioned in verse 129 of Surah 4. Here, the Qur’an states, “You will never be able to treat your wives with equal fairness, however much you may desire to do so, but do not ignore one wife altogether, leaving her suspended…” which is often understood to be in conjunction with verse 3. The argument goes: if the requirement of polygyny is equal and fair treatment between wives, and this cannot be perfectly achieved, then indirectly the Qur’an is stating that monogamy is preferred.[127]

    The Qur’anic verse furthermore makes a connection between justice towards wives and justice towards orphans. The Qur’an is replete with various mentions of duties towards orphans and commentary from classical jurists such as al-Ṭabarī, Ibn Kathīr, and al-Qurṭubī suggest this verse was meant to establish the rights of orphan girls at risk of abuse by their male guardians. This is grounded in a narration of ʿĀʾisha who, upon being asked to explain Surah 4 Verse 3, stated that “it was the custom of the Arabs who had under their custody beautiful and rich orphan girls to marry them without offering them their fair dower.”[128] By instructing men to marry women not in their custody, the verse was revealed to terminate the practice of taking advantage of orphans, making it compulsory that they have access to their fair dower or be left alone.[129] It did so as a concession in a society where polygyny was an accepted norm.

    Other commentary has suggested that this verse was revealed in the context of war, after the Battle of Uhud, which saw many male casualties and thus many widows and orphans.[130] This provides an allusion to an initial ḥikmah (wisdom) behind the practice. The provision to allow polygyny may be viewed as a way to ensure that all women are capable of marrying, even in instances where women outnumber men. This was especially necessary in social situations where marriage was a means of both physical and material protection for women.[131]

    Thus, by first placing restrictions on the number of wives a man could have and further establishing rules around their treatment, the Qur’anic verse regarding polygamy instituted rules intended to maintain fairness and equity towards women. Moreover, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ clearly set a precedent in this regard. When asked why he did not marry a woman from the Ansar despite their beauty, the Prophet replied, “The women of the Ansar have a strong sense of jealousy and would not endure co-wives, while I am a man with multiple wives, so I would hate to do wrong to her people (the Ansar) by mistreating her.”[132] In this narration, the Prophet demonstrated his concern for the feelings of women and his dislike for polygyny in situations where women would find such an arrangement intolerable. It is for this reason that a woman may stipulate in a marriage contract that her husband cannot take another wife, as Ibn Qudamah al-Maqdisi (d. 620 H) notes in al-Mughni, and it would then become binding upon him to comply with this condition (fa-hadha yalzimuhu al-wafa’ laha bihi), otherwise annulling the marriage.[133] In this sense, monogamy becomes a woman’s choice.

    The inconsistencies in Western liberalism’s historic objections to polygamy have become evident with the emergence of increased advocates for ‘polyamorous relationships.’[134] According to a 2014 Psychology Today article, some estimate the number involved in polyamorous relationships in the United States to be as high as 9.8 million.[135] Moreover, it is worth noting that polygyny remains statistically uncommon amongst Muslims; indeed, it is not strongly associated with any particular religion but rather varies considerably depending on the culture. For instance, in India, the percentage of Muslims who practice polygamy (5.7%) was less than Hindus (5.8%), Jains (6.9%), Buddhists (7.9%), and Adivasis (15.25%).[136] In Iran, less than one percent of men have more than one wife, and in Jordan the percentage is 3.8%; meanwhile, predominantly Christian nations where polygamy is legally recognized and widely practiced include Uganda (15.8%), Republic of the Congo (31.9%), Central African Republic (13.3%),[137] and Zambia (16%).[138] The predominance of polygyny in certain regions of Sub-Saharan Africa has been linked to the historical transatlantic slave trade leading to prolonged periods of abnormal sex ratios.[139] The idea that polygamy is a predominantly Muslim practice is therefore simply incorrect.

    Presently, the legal allowance of polygyny differs significantly among Muslim-majority countries. Some countries such as Turkey and Tunisia prohibit it, other countries restrict it significantly such as Malaysia and Morocco, and a few countries like Kuwait place no restrictions on the practice. Islamically, countries have the legal authority to restrict permissible matters when it is determined that the socioeconomic context leads to those matters resulting in greater harm (mafsadah). Despite the fundamental premise of justice laid out in the Qur’an, the manner by which polygamy occurs may not always reflect this. Though Islamic law may be used to justify such practices, the historical jurisprudence is clear on the initial intent to ensure fairness. Where this does not occur, polygamy is discouraged and/or forbidden entirely.

    Conclusion

    The best remedy to misinformation, propaganda, and ignorant stereotypes is knowledge. Islam’s position on women has been one of its most frequently misrepresented aspects, and the five myths discussed above can be readily debunked with reference to abundant evidences from the Qur’an, the Prophetic teachings, and reputable scholars of the Islamic tradition. 

    In evaluating the best avenues for the advancement of women’s rights, one must take into account the cultural and sociopolitical histories, including colonization, that color our assumptions. We should also recognize the paradigm and premises that formed classical Islamic scholarship. By being better informed about our own faith, we can empower ourselves with the knowledge and conviction vital to the cultivation of good in society, while also acting to eradicate gender-biased practices that contradict Islam’s teachings.

    Author’s post-publication notice: This article was updated to include more evidence and additional information in support of several of the main points raised. Additionally, language has been adjusted to provide greater clarity and improve accuracy. The original 2018 version of the paper remains accessible here.


    Notes

    [1] For instance, see Jesse Prinz, Morality is a Culturally Conditioned Response. Philosophy Now 82: 6-9 (2011).

    [2] Ibn al-Qayyim, Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn, (Beirut: DKI, 1991), 3:12.

    [3] Al-Shāṭibī, Al-Muwāfaqāt, (Cairo: Maktaba Tijariya, 1975), 1:148.

    [4] Ibn al-Qayyim, al-Ṭuruq al-Ḥukmiyyah fī al-siyāsah al-sharʿīyyah, (Mecca: Dar ʿAlam al-Fawāʾid, 1428H), 1:31.

    [5] Makkī ibn Abī Ṭālib, Al-Hidāyah fī Bulūgh al-Nihāyah, (Sharjah: University of Sharjah, 2008), 1206.

    [6] Sahih Muslim 2564. Hadith citations in this article reference the Arabic numerals used on the search engine Sunnah.com. Those compilations not present on that site are instead cited using the numbering on the Arabic site IslamWeb.net.

    [7] Musnad Ahmad 5869.

    [8] Al-Khaṭṭābī, Maʿālim al-Sunan (Aleppo: Maṭbaʿah al-ʿIlmiyyah, 1932), 1:79. 

    [9] For a comprehensive discussion, refer to Eagly, A. H., Beall, A. E., & Sternberg, R. J. (Eds.) (2004). The psychology of gender (2nd ed.). New York: The Guilford Press.

    [10] Miller, Ivy N., and Alice Cronin-Golomb. Gender Differences in Parkinson’s Disease: Clinical Characteristics and Cognition. Movement Disorders, 25.16 (20 10): 2695–2703; Viña J, Lloret A. Why women have more Alzheimer’s disease than men: Gender and mitochondrial toxicity of amyloid-beta peptide. J Alzheimers Dis. 2010; 20 Suppl 2:S527-33.

    [11] Thibault V., Guillaume M., Berthelot G., et al. Women and Men in Sport Performance: The Gender Gap has not Evolved since 1983. Journal of Sports Science & Medicine. 2010;9(2):214-223; Knechtle B., Rosemann T., Lepers R., Rüst C.A. Women outperform men in ultra distance swimming: The Manhattan Island Marathon Swim from 1983 to 2013. Int J Sports Physiol Perform. 2014 9(6):913-24.

    [12] Weisberg Y. J., DeYoung C. G., Hirsh J. B. Gender Differences in Personality across the Ten Aspects of the Big Five. Frontiers in Psychology. 2011; 2:178. doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2011.00178.

    [13] Adenzato, M. et al. Gender differences in cognitive Theory of Mind revealed by transcranial direct current stimulation on medial prefrontal cortex. Sci. Rep. 7, 41219; doi: 10.1038/srep41219 (2017).

    [14] Zahn-Waxler, C., Robinson, J. L., & Emde, R. N. (1992). The development of empathy in twins. Developmental Psychology, 28(6), 1038-1047.

    [15] Sahih Muslim, 2548b.

    [16] One counterpoint being that “Empirically, sex differences in most psychological traits—in personality, sexuality, attitudes, and cognitive abilities—are conspicuously larger in cultures with more egalitarian sex role socialization and greater sociopolitical gender equity.” Schmitt, D. P. (2014). The evolution of culturally-variable sex

    differences: Men and women are not always different, but when they are . . . it appears not to result from patriarchy or sex role socialization. In V. A. Weekes-Shackelford, & T. K. Shackelford (Eds.), The evolution of sexuality (pp. 221-256). New York, NY: Springer.

    [17] Buss, D. M., Abbott, M., Angleitner, A., Asherian, A., Biaggio, A., Blanco, A., et al. (1990). International preferences in selecting mates: A study of 37 cultures. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology21, 5–47.

    [18] Sunan al-Kubrā al-Bayḥaqī (14264).

    [19] Jāmiʿ at-Tirmidhī 3367. The hadith continues to say, “For verily they are in your presence ʿāwān”. The word ʿāwān (feminine singular ʿānīyah) means those who are a captive or prisoner; Abu ʿUbayd, Gharīb al-Ḥadīth, ed. Ḥusayn Muhammad Sharaf, (Cairo: al-Hayʾah al-ʿĀmmah li-Shuʾūn al-Maṭābiʿ al-Amīriyah, 1984), 1:407. The analogy provides a vivid image of a relationship the audience would have been familiar with in which the power differential was obvious. The Prophetic emphasis is on taking that as a lesson in responsibility, duty, and accountability for one’s kind treatment towards one’s spouse.

    [20] Jāmiʿ at-Tirmidhī 1162.

    [21] Sunan al-Kubrā al-Bayḥaqī 11095, Sunan Saʿīd ibn Manṣūr295. Ibn Ḥajar considers its isnād ḥasan (good) in Fatḥ al-Bārī (Cairo: Dar al-Rayan 1986), 5:253. Contemporary hadith scholar, Hātim al-ʿAwnī, notes that while this report is mursal, its narration by early scholars demonstrates that “this concept of equality springs from deep within our Islamic tradition.”

    [22] Korteweg, Anna. The Sharia Debate in Ontario: Gender, Islam, and Representations of Muslim Women’s Agency. Gender & Society, August 2008, p. 448.

    [23] For a discussion of such arguments, see Anne Barnhill, “Modesty as a Feminist Sexual Virtue,” in Out From the Shadows: Analytical Feminist Contributions to Traditional Philosophy, edited by Sharon L. Crasnow and Anita M. Superson (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), pp. 115-137. From a social psychology perspective, see Cikara, M., Eberhardt, J. L., & Fiske, S. T. (2011). From agents to objects: Sexist attitudes and neural responses to sexualized targets. Journal of Cognitive Neuroscience, 23, 540-551.

    [24] Fraser, Nancy. How feminism became capitalism’s handmaiden – and how to reclaim it. The Guardian. Oct 14, 2013. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/oct/14/feminism-capitalist-handmaiden-neoliberal.

    [25] Slaughter, Anne-Marie. Why Women Still Can’t Have it All. The Atlantic. 2012. https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-cant-have-it-all/309020/

    [26] Sunan Ibn Mājah, 2341.

    [27] Ibn ʿAsākir, Tārīkh al-Dimashq (13/312), related as a hadith from the Prophet ﷺ. 

    [28] Sunan Abī Dāwūd 2146, Sunan al-Dārimī 2219 (under “Chapter on the prohibition of hitting women”). These hadith also mention that after this, ʿUmar complained that the women had rebelled against their husbands so a dispensation was given for physical discipline, whereupon the women then came and complained to the Prophet ﷺ so the Prophet expressed his disapproval of the men hitting, and in one hadith (Ṣaḥīḥ Ibn Ḥibbān 4186 authenticated by Shuʿayb Al-Arnāʿūṭ) it states explicitly that the Prophet ﷺ then forbade them from hitting (fa nahāhum) once again. If this narration is taken at face value, the implementation of 4:34 would be restricted (takhṣīṣ) as explained by Ibn ʿAbbas and ʿAṭā ibn Abī Rabāḥ below, and similarly this applies to the farewell sermon.

    [29] Sunan Abī Dāwūd 2144. Another hadith says,  “Do not raise a stick against your family” (Al-Adab al-Mufrad 18); this is one of two wordings of the hadith which are both authentic. See Faḍl Allah al-Jīlānī,  Faḍl Allah al-Ṣamad fī tawdīḥ al-Adab al-Mufrad, (Beirut: DKI, 2002), 81-82. See also Husayn al-ʿAwāyishah, Sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ al-Adab al-Mufrad, (Beirut: Dar Ibn Hazm, 2003), 1:35. 

    [30] Sunan Ibn Majah, 2060.

    [31] Musnad Ahmad (1303), Majma’ al-Zawa’id (7745). Declared authentic by Ahmad Shakir. See Ahmad ibn Hanbal, al-Musnad lil-Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal ed. Ahmad Shakir (Cairo: Dar al-Hadith), 2:138-139.

    [32] For instance, ʿAbd al-Ḥamid Abu Sulayman in Ḍarb al-Marʾa wasīlah li-ḥal al-Khilāfāt al-Zawjiyah (Cairo: Dar Al-Salam 1424H). This perspective is regarded by its opponents as far-fetched as it represents a departure from the plain-sense meaning of the verb.

    [33] Mischaracterizations of the tradition arise from a dogmatic attempt to paint the ‘pre-colonial’ scholarly tradition as fundamentally unconcerned with the well-being of women or mutuality in marital love, as in Ayesha Chaudhry Domestic Violence and the Islamic Tradition, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013). For instance, we are told “Pre-colonial scholars never mentioned the reciprocal nature of the marital relationship” (p. 141) and it is only modern-day ‘neo-traditionalist scholars’ who “describe an ideal marriage as one that is premised on love and harmony, positing Q. 30:21 as the necessary context for understanding Q. 4:34” (p. 159).  Yet, one of the earliest exegetical works directly cites 30:21 in the explanation of 4:34 arguing that disciplinary measures are not permitted until all other means of returning harmony (ulfa) and love (maḥabbah) have been exhausted; al-Māturīdī, Taʾwīlāt Ahl al-Sunnah, (Beirut: DKI 2005), 163. Furthermore, we find repeated emphasis that avoiding hitting would be better for the sake of preserving love in the marital relationship; see al-Buhūtī’s statement cited below.

    [34] See Barbara Walters’s interview with Sean Connery, in which he doubled down on his controversial statement that hitting a woman is justifiable if her behavior ‘merits it.’ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mzXkbJwrN38

    [35] It’s no surprise that pre-modern jurists catered to that ubiquitous economic reality in their writings. Postindustrial egalitarianism resulted in a cultural shift of authority within the family, although the hierarchical element that has remained is the perception that parents are still responsible for the physical discipline of their children. Comparing modern legislation about parents hitting children with the pre-modern juristic discussion on husbands hitting wives demonstrates similar concerns for distinguishing physical discipline from physical abuse and violence.

    [36] E. Salisbury, G. Donavin, M.L. Price, Domestic Violence in Medieval Texts (Gainesville: University Press of Florida 2002), p.18.

    [37] Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī, Tafsīr al-Rāzī, (Beirut: Dar al-Fikr, 1981), 10:93.

    [38] Al-Buhūtī, Kashshāf al-Qināʿ, (Beirut: DKI, 1997), 5:238. “wa-l-awlāʾ tark ḍarbihā ibqāʾa lil-mawadda”.

    [39] T. Alkiek, D. Mogahed, O. Suleiman, & J. A. C. Brown, “Islamic Perspectives on Domestic Violence,” Yaqeen Institute for Islamic Researchhttps://yaqeeninstitute.org/en/tesneem-alkiek/islam-and-violence-against-women-a-critical-look-at-domestic-violence-and-honor-killings-in-the-muslim-community/

    [40] Al-Dasūqī, Ḥāshiyat al-Dasūqī ʿala Sharḥ al-Kabīr, (Cairo: Dar Ihya’ al-Kutub al-‘Arabiya, 1980), 2:343.

    [41] Al-Rāfiʿī, al-Muḥarrar fī al-Fiqh al-Imām al-Shāfiʿī, (Cairo: Dar al-Salam 2013), vol 2, p 1041.

    [42] For instance, al-Munāwī (d.1031 AH) states, “This demonstrates that hitting one’s wife is harām except for nushūz (rebellious conduct), so when she commits it he may hit without hitting severely (mubarriḥ) nor persistently, but if she is not deterred by it then both severe hitting and non-severe hitting is ḥarām, and abandoning hitting is categorically preferable.” Al-Munāwī, Fayḍ al-Qadīr sharḥ jāmiʿ al-saghīr, (Beirut: DKI 2001), 1:86. Al-Sharbīnī (d. 977 AH) stated that hitting was only permissible as a last resort after repeated instances of nushūz (rebellious conduct) according to the [Shāfiʿī] ʿIrāqīs and Al-Rāfiʿī, while al-Nawawī was of the view that hitting was permissible even after the first instance of nushūz on the condition that one believed it would actually benefit the situation otherwise it would not be permitted even under such circumstances. As for severe hitting (ḍarb mubarriḥ), defined as that which leaves a mark or causes injury, al-Sharbīnī states that the jurists categorically prohibited it (fa-innahu lā yajūzu muṭlaqan). He also states that it remains preferable to avoid hitting altogether. Al-Sharbīnī, al-Iqnāʿ fī ḥal alfāẓ abī shujāʿ, (Beirut: DKI 2004), 2:282. The fact that the dispensation remains disliked or offensive (makrūh) is mentioned by Abu Bakr ibn al-ʿArabī, in his comments on how ʿAṭā ibn Abī Rabāḥ demonstrated deep understanding in deriving the offensiveness of hitting (karāhiyyah) from the hadith of the Prophet. See Abu Bakr ibn al-ʿArabī. Aḥkam al-Qur’ān (Beirut: DKI 2003), 1:536.

    [43] Ibn Ḥajar al-Haytami, Tuḥfat al-Muḥtāj bi Sharḥ al-Minhāj, (Beirut: DKI 1971), 3:314. “Ammā idhā ‘ulima annahu lā yufīd fayuḥram.”

    [44] Ibn al-Jawzī, Aḥkām al-Nisā, ed. Amr Abd al-Mun’im Salim, (Cairo: Maktabah Ibn Taymiyyah 1997), 241.

    [45] Al-Qurṭubī, Al-Jāmiʿ li-Aḥkām al-Qur’an, vol. 5, p.169.

    [46] Ibn ʿĀshūr, Tahrir wal-Tanwir (Tunisia: Dar al-Tunisiyyah 1984), 5:44. Discussed in Abdullah Hasan, “The End to Hitting Women: Islamic Perspective on Domestic Violence,” MuslimMatters.org. n.p. 21 Dec 2013.

    [47] Availability of contraception also played a role in women pursuing long-duration professional education. See Goldin, Claudia and Lawrence F. Katz. 2002. The power of the pill: Oral contraceptives and women’s career and marriage decisions. Journal of Political Economy 110(4): 730-770.

    [48] Faḍl Allah al-Jīlānī,  Faḍl Allah al-Ṣamad fī tawdīḥ al-Adab al-Mufrad, (Beirut: DKI, 2002), 82.

    [49] Ibn Saʿd, Ṭabaqāt al-Kubrā, 10516. Also found in the work by al-Suyuti, Jāmiʿ al-Ṣaghīr, 1088. This is part of a longer conversation discussed earlier where an initial prohibition to hit was followed by the revelation of the verse and the Prophet providing the dispensation to hit with the above qualification, “None hits except the worst amongst you.” Although this report has weakness in its attribution to the Prophet, the meaning is undoubtedly authentic.

    [50] See for instance, M.R. Holmes, The sleeper effect of intimate partner violence exposure: Long-term consequences on young children’s aggressive behavior. J Child Psychol Psychiatry 54, n. 9 (2013): 986-95; and S.V. Menon, J.R. Cohen, R.C. Shorey, J.R. Temple, The impact of intimate partner violence exposure in adolescence and emerging adulthood: A developmental psychopathology approach, J Clin Child Adolesc Psychol. (2018): 1-12.

    [51] Ṣaḥīḥ Bukhārī 6042. The Prophet ﷺ also routinely advised controlling one’s anger, and research has linked spousal violence to a lack of anger management. Dew, J., & Dakin, J. (2011). Financial Disagreements and Marital Conflict Tactics. Journal of Financial Therapy2 (1) 7.

    [52] Abu Isḥāq Al-Jahḍamī (d.282H), Aḥkām al-Qur’ān, (Beirut: Dar Ibn Hazm 2005), 113. This is recorded with isnād (chain of transmission) from al-Jahdami to ʿAṭāʾ ibn Abī Rabāḥ. The earliest source and the isnad are mentioned to note an error in two of the reasons used to dismiss Ataa’s opinion by some. See Gabriel Al-Romaani,  “Domestic Violence: Critique of some modern opinions on Qur’an 4:34”. ICRAA.org. http://icraa.org/domestic-violence-critique-of-some-modern-opinions-on-quran-434/.

    [53] According to Ibn Uthaymeen (d.1421H), it is something that “cannot cause pain or hurt” (la yuhasul bihi al-alam wa-l-adhāʾ). Such a gesture could not even be termed “beating” in the English language. Al-Liqā al-Shahrī #21. http://audio.islamweb.net/audio/Fulltxt.php?audioid=112236

    [54] Ibn ʿĀshūr provides an interpretation wherein the final instruction in the verse is speaking to the legal authorities and not husbands and he opines that this was the interpretation adopted by ʿAṭāʾ (wa bi-hadha al-taʾwīl akhadha ʿAṭāʾ) which led ʿAṭāʾ to state that a man is not to hit his wife. According to Ibn ʿĀshūr, other scholars alluded to by Ibn al-Faras al-Gharnāṭī, agreed with this way of reading the verse. Ibn ʿĀshūr, Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr (Tunisia: Dar al-Tunisiyyah 1984) 5:43. Another aspect of ʿAṭāʾ’s statement is how it relates to his narrating Ibn Abbās’s comment on the siwāk. According to Abdul Hamid AbuSulayman (“Darb al-Mar’a”, 2010, p. 18), there is a clear difference between taking the verse as referring to a gesture that is purely symbolic as indicated by Ibn Abbas’s statement versus hitting with intent to discipline. The value of ʿAṭāʾ’s statement is fully appreciated when interpreted as an explanation of Ibn Abbās’s comment.

    [55] Sahih Muslim, 1479a.

    [56] John L. Esposito, Women in Muslim Family Law (Syracuse, N.Y: Syracuse University Press, 2001), p. 29.

    [57]  Sunan Abi Dawud, 2178. Declared weak (daʿīf) by al-Albani.

    [58] Judith Tucker, In the House of the Law: Gender and Islamic Law in Ottoman Syria and Palestine (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), p. 109. 

    [59] Esposito, p. 30.

    [60] Judith Tucker, Women, Family, and Gender in Islamic Law (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), p. 91.

    [61] Wahba al-Zuḥaylī, al-Fiqh al-islāmī wa-adillatuhu, 8 vols. (Damascus: Dār al-Fikr, 1985), 7:54.

    [62] al-Zuḥaylī, 7:56.

    [63] The exception is in the Maliki school, which does not obligate husbands to pay for their children’s expenses in the custody of a wealthy mother. 

    [64] Esposito, 34.

    [65] Esposito, 35.

    [66] Tucker, Women, 95.

    [67] Ibid.

    [68] Ibid., 96.

    [69] Ibid., p. 100.

    [70] Muḥammad al-Dasūqī, Aḥmad al-Dardīr, and al-Khalīl b. Isḥāq al-Jundī, Ḥāshiyat al-Dasūqī ʻalā al-Sharḥ al-kabīr, ed. Muḥammad ʿIllīsh, 4 vols. (Cairo: Dār Iḥyāʾ al-Kutub al-ʿArabīya, n.d.), 2:355-6; Muḥammad b. Aḥmad b. Muḥammad Ibn Rushd al-Ḥafīd, Bidāyat al-mujtahid, ed. Muḥammad Ṣubḥī Ḥasan Ḥallāq, 4 vols. (Cairo: Maktabat Ibn Taymīya, 1995), 3:133.

    [71] This does not mean that women throughout other empires or eras were not active in asserting their rights; rather, the Ottoman Empire was among the first in instituting official measures for notaries and recordings of court proceedings. 

    [72] Tucker, Women, p. 109. The author here notes that this is the apparent trend only, since ṭalāq divorces were not required to be recorded in court, and thus, cannot be measured against the number of khulʿ divorces recorded.

    [73] Tucker, In the House of Family Law, p. 80.

    [74] Al-Dasūqī in al-Dasūqī, et al., Ḥāshiyat al-Dasūqī, 2:345.

    [75] Abū Bakr b. Masʿūd al-Kāsānī, Badāʾiʿ al-ṣanāʾiʿ fī tartīb al-sharāʾīʿ, ed. ʿAlī Muḥammad Muʿawwaḍ and ʿĀdil Aḥmad ʿAbd al-Mawjūd, 10 vols. (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmīya, 2003), 3:597.

    [76] Based on her analysis of various court records throughout the Ottoman Empire, historian Judith Tucker was able to conclude, “Legal discourse did not reverse the strongly gendered character and male bias of Islamic legal precedent on divorce, but it did work to soften this bias by defining female rights and strictly regulating divorce procedures.” Tucker, In the House of Family Law, p. 81. This illustrates that even those who may perceive a male bias in the letter of the law concede that this was mitigated in practice by the way Islamic legal discourse guided judicial proceedings.

    [77] Esposito, 53; Azizah al-Hibri and Hadia Mubarak, “Marriage and Divorce,” The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Islamic World.

    [78] al-Hibri and Mubarak, “Marriage and Divorce.”

    [79] “an taḍillah” is often translated as forget or err depending on the English text. 

    [80] Verse 2: 282. Translation based on M.A.S. Abdel Haleem, The Qur’an (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008).

    [81] Mohammad Fadel, “Two Women, One Man: Knowledge, Power, and Gender in Medieval Sunni Legal Thought,” International Journal of Middle East Studies 29, 2 (1997), 187.

    [82]Fakhr al-Din al-Razi. Mafatih al-Ghayb verse 2:282. The Arabic reads:
    أَن تَضِلَّ إْحْدَاهُمَا فَتُذَكّرَ إِحْدَاهُمَا ٱلأُخْرَىٰ } والمعنى أن النسيان غالب طباع النساء لكثرة البرد والرطوبة في أمزجتهن. The invocation of such Hellenistic physiology in deliberations about women’s nature is widespread in the classical tradition of Muslim scholars, encountered for instance from Abu’l-Layth al-Samarqandi (d .375 H) in Transoxania (Bahr al-`Ulum exegesis of 4:34) to Abu Abdullah al-Qurtubi (d. 671 H) in Cordova (Jami’ li-Ahkam al-Qur’an exegesis of 4:34). Muslims seeking to ground Islamic orthodoxy in the tradition must distinguish between a commitment to those elements of the tradition that emerged from Hellenistic thought versus a commitment to those fundamentals of their tradition that are derived unequivocally from the sacred texts of the Qur’an and the Sunnah.

    [83] Jean-Baptiste Bonnard, Male and Female Bodies according to Ancient Greek Physicians, translated by Lillian E. Doherty and Violaine Sebillotte Cuchet. Clio 1, n. 37 (2013): 21-39.

    [84] Ahlam Muhammad Ighbariyah. Shahadat al-Nisa: Dirasah Fiqhiyyah, Qanuniyah Muqaarinah, Masters Dissertation, Hebron University 2010. pp. 210-211. See also Ahmad M. al-Maraghi, Tafsir al-Maraghi, (Egypt 1946), vol. 3, p. 71.

    [85] Saleha Fatima and Muhammad H. Lakhmi. “The Authenticity of Women’s Witness in Islam: A Study in the Light of al-Qur’an.” University of the Punjab. Al-Qalam vol 20, issue 2. December, 2015. p.13.

    [86] Ighbariyah, A. Shahadat al-Nisa (2010). Op cit. pp. 94-95.

    [87] Ibn al-Qayyim, Al-Turuq al-Hukmiyyah (Makkah: Dar ‘Alam al-Fawa’id, 2007), p. 415.

    [88] Mohammad Akram Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat: The Women Scholars in Islam  (Oxford: Interface Publications, 2007), p. 18.

    [89] Men like Urwah ibn al-Zubayr testified that Aisha was the most knowledgeable scholar amongst all the companions, and in many cases she contradicted and corrected the hadith of other companions like Abu Hurayrah or Ibn Umar, and no jurist in the history of Islam ever claimed that her testimony was less than theirs because she was a woman. Imam al-Shawkani (d. 1250 H) attests to this in his writings. 

    [90] Nadwi, p. 20.

    [91] Nadwi, p. 21; Fadel, p. 189.

    [92] Fadel, p. 188.

    [93] Ibid.

    [94] Fadel, p. 189.

    [95] Fadel, p. 190.

    [96] Fadel, 192. For a more detailed discussion on the hadith that this phrase is referring to, see Abu Amina Elias, “Are women deficient in intelligence and religion in Islam?” 

    [97] Fadel, pp. 193-6.

    [98] Fadel, p. 194.

    [99] Fadel, p. 197.

    [100] There is a distinction in Islamic law between becoming a witness (taḥammul al-shahādah) versus testifying as a witness (adāʾ al-shahādah). Verse 2:282 describes the former (i.e., calling on people to bear witness to a financial transaction), but does not focus on how the judge deals with their testimonies later when they actually testify in court.

    [101] Fadel, p. 197; Ibn al-Qayyim, Iʿlām al-muwaqqaʿīn, 3 vols., ed. Ṭāhā ʿAbd al-Raʾūf Saʿd (Beirut: Dār al-Jīl, n.d.), 1:95.

    [102] Ibn al-Qayyim, Al-Ṭuruq al-Ḥukmiyyah (Makkah: Dar ʿĀlam al-Fawāʾid, 2007), p. 430.

    [103] See for instance, Ja’far Sheikh Idris. Haqa’iq `Ulum al-Tajribiyyah…Haqa’iq Shar`iyyah. November 12, 2012. Majallah al-Bayan no. 149. Available online. Among the evidences the author cites is the hadith in which Prophet Muhammad ﷺ did not prohibit intercourse with breastfeeding women (al-Ghīlah) after noting that it was practiced by Romans and Persians without any ill effects to infants conceived as a result (Jami’ al-Tirmidhi 2221). The author precedes this with the comment, “There is a hadith which demonstrates the Prophet utilised as evidence empirical matters (haqa’iq al-waqi`iyah) in ascertaining religious rulings (al-masa’il al-shar`iyyah).”

    [104] Loftus, E. F., Banaji, M. R., Schooler, J. W., & Foster, R. (1987). Who remembers what? Gender differences in memory. Michigan Quarterly Review, 26, p. 79. Other research has noted that women generally have advantages in short term memory, working memory, facial memory, while men excel in visuospatial memory. Encyclopedia of Human Memory. Ed. Annette Kujawski Taylor. (Greenwood 2013). p. 509.

    [105] Rashid Rida. Tafsir al-Manar. 12 vols. (Beirut: Dar al-Ma’rifah), vol. 3, p. 124-5.

    [106] Gomaa, Ali. Al-Musawiya al-Insaniya fi’l Islam bayna Nadhariyya wal-Tatbeeq. (Cairo: Dar al-Maʿārif, nd), 57. Arabic: (لكن إذا تطورت خبراتها وممارساتها وعاداتها، كانت شهادتها حتى في الإشهاد على حفظ الحقوق والديون مساوية لشهادة الرجل). Available Online.

    [107] Ibid. Gomaa writes, “The legal basis (ʿillah) that Ibn Taymiyyah provided for the wisdom of why the testimony of two women equals the testimony of one man is that a woman is not one who normally undertakes meetings relates to these types of transactions, but if her experiences, practices and customs changed, her testimony would equal that of a man even in matters of preserving legal rights and [matters of] financial debts.” The source of Gomaa’s argument appears to be the following passage in which Ibn al-Qayyim cites Ibn Taymiyyah as saying “So that which is from testimonies [of women] in which there is no fear of erring in routine practice (fī’l-ʿādah), they are not considered as half of a man.” See Ibn al-Qayyim, al-Ṭuruq al-ḥukmiyyah, (Mecca: Dar ʿĀlam al-Fawāʾid 1428H), 400. However, one should note that Ibn Taymiyyah says this in the context of explaining why the witness of a sole woman is sufficient in matters like testifying about childbirth, breastfeeding, menstruation, etc. Hence Gomaa’s argument should be seen as his own derivation and not the position of Ibn Taymiyyah himself.

    [108] Gomaa, 58. In his exegesis, Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, Al-Rāzī notes that in practice this is the ijmāʿ of the Muslims despite isolated viewpoints from Ibrahim al-Nakhaʿī and Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī to the contrary.

    [109] Al-Zarkashī, Badr al-Dīn Muḥammad b. ‘Abd Allah, al-Baḥr al-Muḥīṭ. ‘Abd al-Qādir ‘Abd Allah al-

    ‘Ānī (ed.),(Kuwait: Ministry of Endowments and Islamic Affairs 1992), 2:357.

    [110] Al-Wāhidi, Asbāb Nuzūl al-Qur’ān (Beirut: Dar Al-Kutub al-Ilmiyyah 1991), p.150.

    [111] Mary F. Radford, The Inheritance Rights of Women Under Jewish and Islamic Law, 23 B.C. Int’l & Comp. L. Rev. 135 (2000), p. 135.

    [112] Ibid., p. 193.

    [113] Salah Soltan, Woman’s Inheritance in Islam: Discrimination or Justice?, trans. Gihan ElGindy (Hilliard: Sultan Publisher, 2004), p. 39.

    [114]International Islamic Fiqh Academy. Jurisprudential leaflet on the divine justice on women and men’s inheritance in Islamic Sharia. Prepared by Rashid Al Baloushi & Mohamed Albashir. Available online:. http://www.oic-iphrc.org/en/data/docs/articles_studies/jurisprudential_leaflet_divine_justice_women_inheritance_islam_en.pdf

    [115] Nasr, Seyyid Hossein (ed.), The Study Qur’an (NY: HarperOne, 2015), p. 194.

    [116] International Islamic Fiqh Academy, Op. Cit. p .65. 

    [117] Sunan al-Dāraquṭnī (4/97) and Sunan al-Kubrá of al-Bayḥaqī (6/263).

    [118] Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, Al-Tamhīd (14/307). There is a minority of dissenting views with some scholars (from the four schools as well as the Dhahiris) unconditionally prohibiting any bequest to heirs (regardless of whether the other heirs consent) and others unconditionally permitting it. See Kitab al-Farāʾid wal-Mawarīth wal-Waṣāyā of Dr. Muhammad al-Zuhayli (Damascus: Dar al-Kalim al-Tayyib 2001), pp. 440-5.

    [119] Ibn al-Mundhir (d. 318 H) notes an early consensus on this point (al-Awsat fi al-Sunan wa-lIjma wa-l-Ikhtilaf, Dar al-Kutub al-Ilmiyah, vol. 4, p. 378). 

    [120] Lindsey, Ursula. Can Muslim Feminism Find a Third Way? The New York Times. April 11, 2018. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/11/opinion/islam-feminism-third-way.html

    [121] Almaric Rumsey, Moohummudan Law of Inheritance and right and relations affecting it: Sunni Doctrine, 3rd ed. (London: W.H. Allen, 1880) as cited in Alshankiti, Asma. A Doctrinal and Law and Economics Justification of the Treatment of Women in Islamic Inheritance Laws. Masters Thesis. 2012. University of Alberta, Edmonton, Canada.

    [122] Translation of Abdullah Yusuf Ali.

    [123] Mashhour, Amira, “Islamic Law and Gender Equality: Could There be a Common Ground?: A Study of Divorce and Polygamy in Sharia Law and Contemporary Legislation in Tunisia and Egypt,” Human Rights Quarterly (Volume 27: 2, May 2005), 568.

    [124] Indeed, Ibn al-Qayyim argued that if one were to compare between what the Qur’an requires polygamous men to endure in terms of the toil, hardship, and consistency in simultaneously caring for all their wives and ensuring they are all equally content, and on the other hand compare what co-wives have to endure in terms of jealousy, one would find that polygamy—when practiced correctly—is actually a greater burden on men than women. See Ibn Al-Qayyim, Iʿlām al-Muwaqqiʿīn, (Riyadh: Dar Ibn al-Jawziyyah, 2003) vol. 3, p.  326. Of course, the comparative burden of men versus women is not measurable and for many women it could be far greater; the point of this quotation is solely to demonstrate that this ruling was not considered to favor men.

    [125] Al-ʿImrani, Yahya Ibn Abi Khayr. Al-Bayan fi Fiqh al-Imam Shafi’i. (Jeddah: Dar al-Minhaj 2000) vol. 11, p. 189.

    [126] Mushir Hosain Kidwai, Women Under Different Social and Religious Laws: Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, Islam, 103 (1976).

    [127] Rashid Rida. Tafsir al-Manar. 12 vols. (Beirut: Dar al-Ma’rifah), vol. 4, p. 349; Mashhour, Amira, “Islamic Law and Gender Equality,” 568.

    [128] Souaiaia, Ahmed E, From Transitory Status to Perpetual Sententiae: Rethinking polygamy in Islamic Traditions. Hawwa (Volume 2: 3, 2004), 294.

    [129] Ibid., and Nasr, Seyyid Hossein (ed.), The Study Qur’an (NY: HarperOne, 2015), p. 190.

    [130] Mashhour, Amira, “Islamic Law and Gender Equality,” p. 569.

    [131] Ibid., p. 1793.

    [132] Ibn Saʿd, Tabaqat Ibn Sa’d (Cairo: Maktabat Khānjī, 2001), vol. 10, p. 195.

    [133] Ibn Qudamah al-Maqdisi. Al-Mughni. (Cairo: Maktabah al-Qahirah 1968). Vol 7, pp. 92-93.

    [134] Khazan, Olga. Multiple lovers without jealousy. July 21, 2014. The Atlantichttps://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2014/07/multiple-lovers-no-jealousy/374697/

    [135] Sheff, Elisabeth. How Many Polyamorists Are There in the U.S.?. Psychology Today. May 10, 2014. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-polyamorists-next-door/201405/how-many-polyamorists-are-there-in-the-us

    [136] https://scroll.in/article/669083/muslim-women-and-the-surprising-facts-about-polygamy-in-india
    https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Bigamy-An-issue-of-one-too-many/articleshow/5004493.cms

    [137] Mich`ele Tertilt. Polygyny and Poverty. Job Market Paper 2003. University of Minnesota. http://piketty.pse.ens.fr/files/Tertilt2003.pdf

    [138] 2003 Health and Demographic Survey. Atlas of Gender Development. OECD. p.276.

    [139] Dalton and Leung. Why Is Polygyny More Prevalent in Western Africa? An African Slave Trade Perspective. Volume 62, Number 4 | July 2014. Economic Development and Cultural Change.

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    Muslims believe that the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ ministry was supported by physical miracles that were witnessed and reported by a generation of superb moral integrity. This paper will feature some of the most authentically transmitted miracles, after assessing the utility, plausibility, and provability of miracles in the first place.

    While the Qur’an is the Prophet’s ﷺ greatest miracle, and certainly sufficient on its own as a miracle, this does not negate that God gave him many other miraculous signs along with it.[1] In other words, conviction in the prophethood of Muhammad ﷺ is not dependent on his performance of miracles, but historically reliable reports of these miracles make their occurrence undeniable and a powerful cultivator of conviction. Of course, the believer is always encouraged to pursue higher states of conviction through contemplation, seeking knowledge, and purifying their heart until they can witness the Truth through the message of Islam itself. However, we should not underestimate the fact that some people’s psychospiritual makeup better orients them to traverse the “miracles avenue” to the gates of faith. As Ibn al-Qayyim writes, “The paths to guidance are diverse, as a mercy and kindness from God to His servants, due to the variation in their intellectual, mental, and spiritual insights.”[2] He then proceeded to give examples of how some are guided by recognizing the truth in the message itself, due to the purity of their own nature, such as Abū Bakr al-Ṣiddīq (rA), and some recognized the truth through the impeccable character of its bearer ﷺ, such as Khadījah bint Khuwaylid (rAh). A third segment of humanity was brought to faith by God through miracles, while a fourth was impressed by the triumphs and successes of the Prophet’s lifetime, and a fifth group simply followed its leaders who joined the fold of Islam.

    In addition to bringing some people to faith, miracles augment existing faith by instilling in those who read these stories immense love, respect, and admiration for the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Reflecting on God’s mercy and aid to the believers grants the faithful a firm confidence in divine providence and help in times of hardship and difficulty. Reading and believing in the reality of divine omnipotence as manifested through these miracles enables a person to dream big, pushing their boundaries, and shaking off self-limiting beliefs. One recognizes that the natural order, seemingly fixed, is in fact entirely contingent on divine will.

    This is the utility of miracles and why deemphasizing them to appear more rational and sophisticated is a great disservice to many sincere seekers. As for those solely interested in validating their preexisting beliefs, the Qur’an itself asserts that miracles are futile for those not willing to believe them, even if they were to witness them with their own eyes. Allah says, “And [even] if We opened to them a gate from the heavens and they continued therein to ascend, they would say, ‘Our eyes have only been dazzled. Rather, we are a people affected by magic.’”[3] The Qur’an repeatedly describes this response to miracles from skeptical minds across the ages and explains why some still rejected Islam after witnessing the Prophet’s ﷺ miracles themselves. It demonstrates the veracity of a key epistemological perspective that the Qur’an postulates—namely, the futility of skepticism as an approach to knowledge. Even the clearest signs and miracles can be doubted if a person is willing to be skeptical of their own senses and question reality entirely. But, because our postmodern times harbor greater suspicion against religious and traditional accounts of the supernatural than any other period in human history, let us first begin with dispelling the commonly held misconceptions that miracles are either logically impossible or historically unprovable.

    The possibility of miracles

    For the majority of people who believe that God is the Creator of the universe and remains a willful agent in the world, God’s ability to perform miracles—or to enable others to perform them—is easy to accept. After all, if God created the laws of nature, it logically follows that He is not bound by the system He designed but can also bring about occurrences outside of that system. Miracles are only problematic for atheists (who believe in no God) and deists (who posit a non-intervening God), both of whom may find it refreshing to familiarize themselves with the case for Allah’s existence in the Qur’an and Sunnah.[4]

    While belief in miracles was standard in Christian societies, the transition to modernity signaled a shift toward a more skeptical stance. The mechanical naturalists of Enlightenment thought painted a “disenchanted” view of nature as a closed system, describing natural laws as disconnected from God.[5] Ultimately, they had a profound aversion to any suggestion of miraculous intervention. The notion of miracles was commonly rejected because they were “unscientific.” Perhaps the most notable vanguards of this view were the Dutch rationalist Baruch Spinoza (d. 1677) and the Scottish empiricist David Hume (d. 1776). Both used various arguments to reject the possibility of miracles, all of which suffer from either factual errors, logical inconsistency, or irrelevance to the miracles of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ.

    In his Theological-Political Treatise, Spinoza argued that belief in miracles was but a remnant of the naive premodern mind, its inability to interpret natural phenomena, and not the intended meaning behind passages in the Torah. His contempt for miracles is expected, as the idea of “supernatural intervention” was perceived to be at odds with the philosophical outlook of rationalism that dominated his era and eventually resulted in the European Enlightenment. However, Spinoza’s unbridled zeal to disprove the very possibility of miracles is contrary to his usual astuteness. For instance, he attempts to explain away every explicit biblical account of miracles as not actually miraculous. He even claimed that every supposed miracle can be seen as a misunderstood natural phenomenon. While ignorance and superstition have certainly driven some people to prematurely classify some events as miracles, what scientific evidence suggests that staffs can be transformed into snakes, people blind from birth can have their sight restored, or that the moon can be split and restored? According to Spinoza, since our knowledge of nature is incomplete, there is no way to assert that a particular event is miraculous since it may have a yet-undiscovered natural explanation. Spinoza presumed that inexplicable occurrences should simply require us to rewrite our understanding of the laws of nature. However, modern philosophy of science considers Spinoza’s argument fallacious; the fundamental laws of nature are not rewritten when miracles occur. A bird being miraculously resurrected from a disassembled carcass[6] does not require us to revise our knowledge of the natural decay of corpses.

    Aside from this epistemological objection to miracles, another objection Spinoza raised was quasi-theological cum ontological: “If anyone asserted that God acts in contravention to the laws of nature, he, ipso facto, would be compelled to assert that God acted against His own nature.”[7] But this argument is entirely contingent upon accepting Spinoza’s impoverished conception of God. Spinoza considered God as nothing other than nature itself (a view that limits the Divine so severely that many are convinced that Spinoza’s beliefs are essentially no different from atheism). On such a view, certainly it would seem absurd for nature to contradict itself. But when God is the Supreme Master of all in existence, who says “Be” and something comes into existence, then there is no rational objection to God intervening in His creation and delimiting the scope of some of the natural laws that He has ordained.

    It is interesting that Spinoza also asserted that if miracles were true, they would imply that God created a flawed world that He had to keep repairing. Not only does this contradict his view that miracles should make us revise our understanding of natural laws, but it also constitutes a strawman argument whereby a position no one actually holds is refuted. Believers do not claim that the purpose of miracles is to fix a flawed world. Rather, they believe that the One who created this world and the laws that govern it can also suspend them.

    The weakness of Spinoza’s critique was evident. It was only after Hume published his Inquiry Concerning Human Understanding that debates surrounding the logical and scientific possibility of miracles intensified. Not only were Hume’s arguments more refined, but prevailing paradigms of the Enlightenment era such as skepticism and naturalism were conducive to a wider embrace of his views. Hume alleged that we are forced by continuous evidence of nature’s uniformity to dismiss even the strongest testimony of any momentary supernatural event, since it would, by definition, violate the proven laws of nature. He further justified this by the lack of historical evidence for any one miracle, and by the multitude of the faithful who claim them in support of their conflicting doctrines. How Islam’s unique mechanism of knowledge transmission satisfies the criterion of historical evidence will be discussed shortly, but the fact that different religions offer different accounts does not justify dismissing them all. Doing so would render the very study of history useless, since sifting through conflicting reports and weighing them against one another is every historian’s methodology. Even Hume himself followed this protocol when he considered nature’s ongoing testimony stronger than individual accounts of miracles. As for Hume’s argument for the superiority of empirical science over historical testimony, this stems from his philosophical framework, which was effectively that of an agnostic or atheist. Theists, on the other hand, perceive miracles as identical to natural phenomena, in that both originate with God. Just as the universe began by the command of God, and its laws run as ordered by God, miracles can sometimes occur in it by the will of God. The reality of miracles is ultimately an extension of the divine reality; just as God evidenced His existence and magnificence through the brilliant laws of nature, He evidenced His omnipotence and the integrity of His messengers through occasionally breaching these same laws in mind-boggling ways. Finally, the “laws of nature” are a mere description of the world as we experience it, not a necessary prescription for how it must function. Miracles can, therefore, simply be exceptions to the predominant natural order, contrary to it but not contradictory. That would deliver us from Hume’s presumption of irreconcilability and shift our investigation from the logical possibility to the historical documentation of miracles.

    The demonstrability of miracles

    Neither the logical possibility of an omnipotent God performing miracles, nor historical claims of their incidence, constitutes proof that miracles took place. There must be compelling evidence, and no sensible person should accept accounts of miracles without scrutiny. As is often said, “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” However, we must discern whether we are genuinely open to evidence—albeit extraordinary—or blindly committed to our presuppositions. Consistency is an excellent litmus test; do we question whether all similar convictions we hold about life and faith meet the same stringent criteria, or has a double standard snuck in here due to prejudice or extreme skepticism? Many people today may not realize that they are actually Humeans: dogmatic naturalists who believe no amount of historical evidence for miracles can ever suffice, and that nothing at all is provable except that which we personally experience. Consistency necessitates acknowledging that nobody actually only accepts what they have experienced themselves as evidence. Such a position would entail denying every map we have not charted ourselves and every scientific fact we have not personally established. Rational and balanced people accept that testimony, its traceability, and its corroboration, are acceptable as evidence that a fact or event is certainly true or likely true.

    The discipline of Hadith is an instrumental science in the Islamic intellectual tradition, invested in verifying reports about the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, and hence central to any discussion of miracles. It is a unique and sophisticated process involving the interplay of seven sub-disciplines, all engineered to establish beyond a reasonable doubt the transmission chain for each narration. Ultimately, a tiny fraction of these transmitted narrations survives the rigorous process to be classified as “authentic,” but Hadith scholars did not stop there. Authentic narrations were further categorized as mutawātir (abundantly concurring) or āād (solitary). Mutawātir reports are those narrated by many narrators in each layer of their transmission, making it inconceivable that they were all mistaken or had all colluded in a forgery. Āād reports—when authentic—are those transmitted reliably but without meeting the criteria of mutawātir, hence most Hadith scholars believe they involve preponderance (greater likelihood) as opposed to certain knowledge. However, this majority simultaneously deems āād reports worthier of being accepted than discarded, due to the reliability of their chains of transmission and the fact that all sensible people act on greater likelihood in the absence of certainty.

    Miracles occurring at the hands of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ is a mutawātir concept, meaning the sheer multitude of reports make it uncontestable in principle, even if some specific accounts are not independently mutawātir. The occurrence of World War I is a simple example of a mutawātir concept; the concurrence of abundant testimony about it renders it inconsequential whether any particular report of it having taken place is verifiable. Rejecting a mutawātir concept would be tantamount to someone refusing to confirm that Mayan, Inca, or Aztec civilizations existed until humans invent a time machine and travel back in time themselves. Until then, this person would be willing to entertain the possibility of all reports of these civilizations being a transhistorical conspiracy—similar to what the Flat Earth Society champions today.

    Islam therefore requires a demonstrable chain of transmission before attributing a statement or action (like a miracle) to its Prophet ﷺ, unlike the many other accounts of miracles in other traditions which lack a chain of transmission and are only predicated on faith. Muslim theologians often highlight this important distinction, and how it compels every honest person to not differentiate between the miracles of Prophet Moses and Jesus (as) because of their comparable historicity (none solidly traceable to eyewitnesses), and first accept the miracles of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ since their historicity is far stronger. Ibn al-Qayyim says in Ighāthat al-Lahfān,

    If this [inconsistency] was the case with the miracles of these two messengers, alongside how long ago that was, and how fragmented their nations became in the world, and the eventual disappearance of their miracles, then what should be assumed regarding the prophethood of Muhammad ﷺ and his miracles and signs when they were more recent, exceeded one thousand in number, were transmitted by the most pure and honorable individuals ever, and when this transmission was conveyed by tawātur (abundant concurrence) one century after another?[8]

    Muhammad ﷺ would additionally be the most authoritative confirmer of the miracles of the previous prophets and the most qualified to put an end to the controversies surrounding them.

    Specific miracles of the Prophet ﷺ

    In addition to miracles being a mutawātir phenomenon of the Prophet’s ﷺ ministrythere are specific miracles whose mutawātir transmission elevates them above any possibility of fabrication. The remainder of this paper discusses this subset, but let us first assert that requiring mutawātir testimony before believing anything is cynicism, not prudence. Most of acquired human knowledge comes through āād reports, such as reading something from a single source, and so this stipulation would prevent us from believing any bit of news that people circulate. It might even prevent us from believing our own eyes when we are the sole witness to an event. We generally trust our eyes, at least until we are compelled by stronger reasons to suspect them. Hence, after realizing the possibility and demonstrability of miracles in principle, even āād reports of them should not be dismissed whenever their reliability is defensible and no defects in their transmission have been identified.

    In a brilliant passage in Fatḥ al-Bārī, Ibn Ḥajar (d. 1449) speaks on the abundance of the Prophet’s ﷺ miracles and says,

    This collectively confers necessary knowledge (certainty) that a great number of supernatural events occurred at his hands ﷺ, in the same manner that someone can conclusively assert the generosity of Ḥātim [al-Ṭā’ī] and the courage of ‘Alī, even if the individual reports on this are only speculative due to their being reported through āḥād chains. However, it should be noted that many of the Prophet’s miracles became well-known and widespread, were narrated by huge groups of people (mutawātir), and consequently conferred certainty by the scholars of transmission, biographical verification, and testimony authentication—even if those unfamiliar with these disciplines did not reach this degree of confidence regarding them. In fact, if someone were to claim that most of these incidents (even the non-mutawātir) were definitively established, this would not be far-fetched because it is undeniable how accurately these narrators usually related these accounts in every layer of transmission. Furthermore, it is not documented from the Companions [of the Prophet ﷺ] or those after them a single conflicting report that challenges these accounts, and this silence necessitates approval since they are collectively above turning a blind eye to falsehood. And hypothetically, had they denied one another’s reports on these miracles, this would only be due to doubting the reliability of the narrator, or accusing him of lying, poor memory, or senility. As for the content of the narration itself, nobody ever criticized it.[9]

    Thus, even āād reports about miracles can be considered authentic and reliable. Despite this, the following accounts of specific miracles will be restricted to the most indisputable examples, those established by mutawātir transmission.

    The moon splitting

    The Hour has come near, and the moon has split [in two]. And if they see any miracle, they turn away and say, “Passing magic.” And they denied and followed their desires—and every matter will be settled.[10]

    In an attempt to stump the Prophet ﷺ, disbelievers from the Quraysh clan demanded an undeniable sign from the Prophet ﷺ, which led to God splitting the moon before their eyes. The Prophet ﷺ then said, “Bear witness.”[11] The baffled crowd said that Muhammad must have cast a spell on them, but since he could not have cast a spell on everyone, they decided to ask the travelers from surrounding areas if they saw what they did. They sent riders racing out to question those beyond the city of Mecca, and they too confirmed having seen the exact same phenomenon in the night sky.[12] Ultimately, the idolaters from Quraysh chose denial and they were forced to deny their own eyes.

    Numerous luminaries of Hadith have independently verified the mutawātir-grade reporting of this miraculous event by exploring its narrators from every layer of transmission. This was done by al-Subkī in Sharḥ Mukhtaṣar Ibn al-Ḥājib, Ibn Ḥajar in al-Amālī, al-Qurṭubī in al-Mufhim, Ibn Kathīr in al-Bidāyah wal-Nihāyah, Imam al-Munāwī in Sharḥ Alfiyat al-‘Irāqī, and Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr (d. 1071), among others.[13]

    In describing many reports of the moon-splitting, Ibn Kathīr (d. 1373) brings a key aspect of this incident to our attention:

    When the moon split, it never left the sky, rather it cleaved once the Prophet ﷺ gestured to it and became two pieces. It only proceeded to hover behind Mount Ḥirā’, setting the mountain between itself and its counterpart, as described by Ibn Mas‘ūd (rA) who reports witnessing this himself.[14]

    Imam al-Khaṭṭābī (d. 988) similarly said,

    The moon splitting was a grand sign to which no other prophet’s miracle could compare, for it was something that appeared in the distant sky that was contrary to every naturally existing phenomenon which this world is comprised of. It therefore falls beyond what anyone can hope to achieve through trickery, making its proof value even more evident.[15]

    Of the bizarre objections to this incident is the expectation that there should be scientifically detectable sequelae to a supernatural event, such as a gravitational disturbance or a geological trace on the moon’s surface. However, this is a fallacious objection. The splitting of the moon was a miraculous phenomenon, something that transcended the natural order. It is unclear why one should expect a supernatural event to have natural effects. It is certainly within the power of an Omnipotent God to cleave asunder an astronomical object while suspending any of the expected impact.

    Another objection is why people beyond the Prophet’s ﷺ audience did not see the moon split. This very weak objection is founded on a false presumption about historical records and the global visibility of a miracle that was intended for the Prophet’s audience. Classical scholars like al-Zajjāj have offered many possible answers to satisfy this inquiry.[16] Among them is that people near Mecca did in fact confirm it and that other geographical locations were either experiencing daylight or were deeper into the night when hardly anyone would be awake and inspecting the sky. Another possibility is lack of visibility, or that a few other people saw it worldwide but assumed it to be a hallucination, or feared being accused of such, or shared it with others but were not taken seriously. People identify and report events based on context; a momentary decontextualized strange sight in the sky would be unlikely to be believed, reported, or documented, let alone transmitted.

    The night journey

    Glory be to the One Who took His servant [Muhammad] by night from the Sacred Mosque to the Farthest Mosque whose surroundings We have blessed, so that We might show him of Our signs. Indeed, He Alone is the All-Hearing, All-Seeing.[17]

    The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was taken from Mecca to Jerusalem and back in a single night, a journey that would ordinarily take a full month for any traveler in the seventh century. When the pagans caught scent of this story being shared the following morning, they became jubilant with hopes of finally proving Muhammad was a madman. They rushed to gather everyone around him, and to their delight, people literally fell off their seats in laughter upon hearing this “ludicrous tale” from the Prophet ﷺ. Saddened by their mockery and disbelief, he ﷺ proceeded to the Ka‘bah where he praised God and asked Him to be reshown Jerusalem. To the dismay of everyone present, the Prophet ﷺ then began describing that blessed city in exquisite detail, as if he was walking through it at that very moment. People nervously turned to the Meccan traders who—unlike Muhammad—were known to frequent Jerusalem, only to find them admitting his accuracy. Many still denied him and stormed off in frustration.

    As history tends to repeat itself, the leading critics of Islam today—like the new atheists Richard Dawkins[18] and Sam Harris[19]—also love to taunt Muslims who “reject scientific realism” and accept that “Muhammad flew to heaven on a winged horse.” However, this shows demonstrable ignorance about the Islamic faith, in addition to fallacious reasoning that actually undermines the scientific enterprise. With regards to their lack of familiarity with what Islamic sources actually say, it should be known that the creature called al-Burāq was emphatically not a winged horse and was never described as such by the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ.[20] Moreover, the narrations explicitly mention that al-Burāq took the Prophet ﷺ to Jerusalem; the mechanism by which God raised the Prophet to Heaven is a different matter, as has been discussed in the Islamic tradition.[21]

    As for the logical fallacy behind this argument, it is grounded only in what is known as argumentum ad incredulum—the argument from incredulity. They seek for people to ridicule a belief purely because it sounds unimaginable and fantastically foreign to the natural realm. Yet, it is indeed the logical consequence of belief in an omnipotent God that such miraculous matters lie entirely within His capability. Moreover, the argument from incredulity would entail the demise of science for it is science that continually challenges our imagination of what is possible, unveiling the unfathomable world of quantum mechanics, bringing to light the possibility of multiple dimensions, and so on. To dismiss something out of hand simply based on incredulity would spell the end of the scientific enterprise which challenges us to explore the frontiers beyond what is imaginable.

    Dr Hatem al-Haj, a contemporary Muslim scholar, writes,

    Al-Burāq not being described as a huge horse or something fancier stresses the point that it was not about this particular creature; it was about the will of God. Just as God said about the legions of angels He sends to support the believers, “And Allah made it not except as [a sign of] good tidings for you and to reassure your hearts thereby. And victory is not except from Allah, the Exalted in Might, the Wise.”[22] God created the laws of physics, and it is only rational that He is not bound by them. The inclusion of al-Burāq in the story made it more memorable. It was also meant to be familiar for the comfort and assurance of the rider, blessings and peace be upon him.[23]

    In addition to the Qur’an describing this night journey, al-Kattānī (d. 1927) collected the names of forty-five different Companions who corroborated this astonishing event.[24] In one of these narrations, ‘Āishah (rAh) reports that even some Muslims felt this miracle was too outrageous to accept and apostatized that morning as a result. They rushed to her father, Abū Bakr (rA), and said in protest, “Your companion is claiming he was taken to Jerusalem last night.” Abū Bakr asked, “Did he say that?” They said, “Yes.” He said, “If he did in fact say that, then he has been truthful.” They said, “You are willing to believe that he was carried to Jerusalem in a single night?” He said, “Yes, for I believe him about something that is more astonishing than that: I believe that he receives messages from heaven in the blink of an eye.” ‘Āishah (rAh) says that it was from that day forward that Abū Bakr was crowned with the title al-Ṣiddīq (the confirmer of truth).[25] Finally, the Qur’an is filled with parallels of this miracle, such as God splitting time for the man who slept a hundred years without aging while his donkey decomposed,[26] and for the youth and their dog who slept for 309 years while generations were born and died outside their cave.[27]

    A tree weeping

    ‘Abdullāh ibn ‘Umar (rA) reports that the Prophet ﷺ used to deliver his sermons while standing beside the trunk of a date-palm tree. Upon the request of an Anṣārī woman, the Prophet ﷺ permitted that a small pulpit of three steps be constructed for him so that he would be more visible and project his voice farther into the growing audience. When the Prophet ﷺ ascended the new pulpit on the following Friday, loud sounds of weeping emerged from this tree trunk. The Prophet ﷺ descended and went over to it and began caressing it with his hand just as someone does to quiet a child. Anas ibn Mālik (rA) adds, “And the mosque shook from its whimpers.” Sahl ibn Sa‘d (rA) adds, “Many people started weeping from hearing its crying and moaning.” Ibn ‘Abbās (rA) adds, “He ﷺ went and hugged it until it quieted, then said, ‘Had I not embraced it, it would have continued like this until the Day of Resurrection.’” Jābir (rA) adds, “It was weeping over missing the Revelation that it would hear [recited] close by.”

    These were the only five Companions who reported this incident firsthand, though nearly twenty in total were present, according to the leading Hadith authorities. Ibn Ḥajar summarizes this investigation by saying, “The hadith of the tree weeping and moon splitting have each been transmitted by an enormous number, one that offers sure knowledge for Hadith experts who examine their chains of transmission, not those untrained in that, and Allah knows best.”[28] Similarly, al-Munāwī reports this hadith on the tree whimpering through many authentic chains which collectively entail it being a mutawātir event, then states that it has been narrated from nearly twenty Companions.[29] Their corroboration led al-Bayhaqī to say that tracing the narrations of this incident to verify whether it happened or not, after an entire generation conveyed it to an entire generation, is unnecessary.[30]

    Stones speaking

    In the Noble Qur’an, Allah tells us that of the powerful signs He granted Prophet David (as) was that his melodious glorifications of God would be echoed by the towering mountains and soaring birds around the clock: “And We certainly gave David from Us bounty. [We said], ‘O mountains, repeat [Our] praises with him, and the birds [as well].’ And We made pliable for him iron.”[31] With this same miracle, Allah endorsed the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Inanimate objects would glorify God in his hands, and even testify to his ministry as messenger and prophet. ‘Abdullāh ibn Mas‘ūd (rA) said, “We used to hear the food making tasbī (glorifying Allah) as he ate.”[32] The dish would praise God in the presence of the Prophet ﷺ when the food was placed before him. Similarly, Abū Dharr (rA) said,

    I was present with the Prophet ﷺ in a circle, and in his hands were pebbles, and everyone in the circle could hear their tasbīḥ. He then passed them to Abū Bakr, and they made tasbīḥ with Abū Bakr [as well]; everyone in the circle could hear their tasbīḥ. He then passed them back to the Prophet ﷺ and they made tasbīḥ in his hand again. He then passed them to ‘Umar, and they made tasbīḥ in his hand, and everyone in the circle could hear their tasbīh. The Prophet ﷺ then passed them to ‘Uthmān ibn ‘Affān, and they made tasbīh in his hand. He then passed them to us, and they did not make tasbīḥ with any one of us.[33]

    The very first miracles by which Allah prepared Muhammad ﷺ were of these types. Even before his prophethood, the stones would greet him. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said, “I certainly know stones in Mecca that used to greet me before I was commissioned, and I recognize them even now.”[34] And after he became the Prophet of God, the Companions witnessed this as well. ‘Alī ibn Abī Ṭālib (rA) said, “We were with the Messenger of Allah ﷺ in Mecca, and we did not encounter any tree or mountain but that it said, ‘Peace be upon you, O Messenger of Allah.’”[35]

    Increasing the water supply

    Imam al-Nawawī says, “These hadith on water gushing from between his fingers and increasing for him, and the food supply increasing as well, are all clear miracles performed by Allah’s Messenger ﷺ on many occasions and under different conditions and have collectively reached mutawātir status.”[36] Hadith scholars have many compilations of these incidents; one example is the following account from ‘Abdullāh ibn Mas‘ūd (rA):

    We used to consider miracles as Allah’s Blessings, but you people consider them to be threatening. We were once with the Messenger of Allah ﷺ on a journey, and our water ran short. He said, “Bring me the remaining water.” The people presented him a vessel containing water, in which he then placed his hands and said, “Come get the blessed purification water, and all blessings are from Allah.” I saw the water flowing from between the fingers of Allah’s Messenger ﷺ. Indeed, we used to also hear the food glorifying Allah as it was being eaten [by him].[37]

    Jābir ibn ‘Abdillāh (rA) narrated that the people became very thirsty on the Day of al-Ḥudaybīyah. There was a small pot containing some water in front of the Prophet ﷺ, and he found the people rushing towards him as he finished performing his ritual ablution with it. He ﷺ asked them, “What has happened?” They said, “We have water neither for ablution nor drinking.” So he ﷺ placed his palm into that pot, and water began flowing upwards from between his fingers like springs. He said, “All those seeking ablution, come forward; the blessing is from Allah.” Jābir said, “We all drank and performed ablution [from that pot], and I did not care how much I drank because I knew it was blessed.” One narrator asked Jābir, “How many were you?” He said, “Even if we had been one hundred thousand, it would have been sufficient for us, but we were fifteen hundred.”[38] Anas ibn Mālik (rA) personally narrated several other nearly identical incidents of water pouring forth from between the Prophet’s ﷺ blessed fingers.[39] These reports suggest that water was emerging from the actual fingers of the Prophet ﷺ, or that it sprang through the gaps between them. Most Hadith interpreters—including al-Baghawī and al-Suyūṭī—chose the first view, and consequently deemed this feat particularly exceptional.

    Increasing the food supply

    Salamah ibn al-Akwa‘ (rA) narrates:

    We once set out on an expedition with Allah’s Messenger ﷺ and faced great hardship, and decided to slaughter some of our riding animals [for food]. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ ordered us to pool our food rations, so we spread a sheet and leather where everyone’s rations were collected. I stretched myself to assess how much that was, and it was only the area a small goat could sit on. We were fourteen hundred people, and we each ate to our satisfaction and then filled our bags with provisions. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ then said, “Is there any water for performing ablution?” A man came forward with a small container that held very little water, which the Prophet ﷺ emptied into a wider basin. From that amount, all thoroughly performed their ablution. Eight individuals later came and said, “Is there any water left to perform ablution?” Allah’s Messenger ﷺ replied, “The ablution water is finished.”[40]

    As Imam al-Nawawī points out elsewhere,

    When a Companion narrates something this incredible and cites as evidence personally attending it himself along with the other Companions, who hear his narration and claim or hear about it, and do not denounce him, that further confirms it and necessitates sure knowledge about the truth of his words.[41]

    Jābir ibn ‘Abdillāh (rA) reports that his father, ‘Abdullāh ibn ‘Amr ibn Ḥarām (rA), died and left behind a sizable debt. He said,

    So I sought the Prophet’s ﷺ help with his creditors so that they would reduce his debt. He ﷺ requested this from them, but they refused, so the Prophet ﷺ said to me, “Go divide your dates according to their kinds; set the ‘Ajwa dates on one side and the ‘Idhq Ibn Zayd on another side. Then notify me.” I did so, then notified the Messenger of Allah ﷺ. He came, sat down, then said, “Measure for the people (creditors).” I measured out their amounts until I had repaid them all that they were owed, and my dates remained as if nothing had decreased from them.” When ‘Umar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb (rA) was informed of this miraculous surplus, he said, “Once the Messenger of Allah ﷺ walked into the garden, I knew it would become blessed.”[42]

    ‘Abdul-Rahmān ibn Abī Bakr (rA) reports:

    There were 130 of us with the Prophet ﷺ, and he said to us, “Does any one of you have food with him?” One man had about a sā‘ of food, and so that was mixed.[43] Then a tall pagan man with disheveled hair came by driving some sheep. The Prophet said to him, “Selling or gifting?” He said, “Selling.” He purchased a sheep from him, it was cooked, and the Prophet ﷺ ordered that the liver be roasted as well. By Allah, there was not a single person from the 130 except that the Prophet ﷺ cut for him a piece of its liver; those who were present were given, and those absent were stowed for. It was made into two dishes which they all ate from, and we had our fill, and yet the two dishes remained, and we loaded them onto a camel.[44]

    Jābir ibn ‘Abdillāh (rA) reports:

    We were digging on the Day of the Trench when a huge solid boulder hindered us. They came to the Prophet ﷺ and complained to him about this boulder, and he said, “I am coming.” He then stood, stones tied to his stomach, as we had not tasted food in three days, and took the sledgehammer and struck the boulder until it became a dust mound. I said, “O Messenger of Allah, would you permit me to visit my home?” I went and said to my wife, “I saw on the Prophet ﷺ something that one cannot bear (i.e., the stones he had fastened from hunger). Do you have anything?” She said, “I have some wheat and a small goat.” I slaughtered the small goat, ground the wheat, then placed the meat in a clay pot. Before I left, my wife said, “Do not humiliate me in front of the Prophet ﷺ and those with him.” I went to the Prophet ﷺ and whispered to him, “I have a little food, so you come, O Messenger of Allah, along with a man or two.” He said, “How much is it?” I informed him, so he said, “That is plenty and good!” Then, he ﷺ said, “O People of the Trench! Stand [all of you]; Jābir has prepared a banquet for you. Let us go.” The Muhājirīn and Anṣār stood, and the Prophet ﷺ said to me, “Tell her not to pull the pot, nor the bread from the oven, until I come.” When I entered upon my wife and informed her of the army behind me, she said, “What is with you?!” I said, “I did what you said!” She said, “Did he ask you?” I said, “Yes.” The dough was brought out to the Prophet ﷺ, and he spat in it and prayed for blessings, then reached for the pot and did the same. Then, he tore the bread and placed it inside the pot and served ample bread and meat to each Companion. There were 1,000 people and, by Allah, each of them ate until they stopped [of their own accord] and left, and our pot was still full and our bread still plenty. In the end, he ﷺ said to us, “Eat from this, or gift it, for the people [of Madinah] have been struck with hunger.”[45]

    Anas ibn Mālik (rA) reports:

    Abū Talḥah said to Umm Sulaym, “I heard the voice of Allah’s Messenger ﷺ reflecting weakness, and I could recognize hunger in it. Do you have anything?” She said, “Yes.” She pulled out several wheat loaves, wrapped them in her veil, then tucked them under my arm and wrapped me with the remaining part of the veil. She sent me to the Messenger of Allah ﷺ and, upon reaching the mosque, I found people with him. I stood beside them, until the Messenger of Allah ﷺ said to me, “Did Abū Talḥah send you?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “With food?” I said, “Yes.” The Messenger of Allah ﷺ then said to the people, “Let us go.” They took off, and I took off in front of them until I reached Abū Talḥah and informed him. Abū Talḥah said, “O Umm Sulaym, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ has come, accompanied by many people, and we have nothing to feed them.” She said, “Allah and His Messenger know best.” Upon arrival, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ said, “O Umm Sulaym, what do you have?” She presented that same bread, which the Prophet ﷺ took and shredded, and then Umm Sulaym emptied her jar of shortening (butter) over it as a condiment. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ then supplicated over it for however long he wished before saying, “Permit ten [to enter].” They were permitted entrance and ate to their fill before leaving. Then he said, “Permit ten.” They too were permitted entrance and ate to their fill before leaving. Then he said, “Permit ten.” Everyone ate in this fashion, until they all had their fill, and there were seventy or eighty men in total.[46]

    Answered prayers

    Al-Qāḍī ‘Iyāḍ says, “The Prophet’s ﷺ supplications being answered for those he prayed for and against is mutawātir in principle, known by necessity.”[47] He meant that God responded to the prayers of the Prophet ﷺ on so many occasions, and this was corroborated by testimony from so many people, that doubting it would be wholly irrational. An outnumbered and unequipped Muslim army was granted victory by God at the Battle of Badr, milk was drawn from the udders of a non-lactating goat, and rain poured from a cloudless sky—all by virtue of the Prophet ﷺ raising his palms to the heavens, and those who spent the shortest time with him witnessed these events and many were driven to conviction by them.

    Anas ibn Mālik (rA) narrates:

    As the Prophet ﷺ was once delivering a Friday sermon, a man rose and said, “O Messenger of Allah, the horses and sheep have perished! Will you not invoke Allah to bless us with rain?” The Prophet ﷺ lifted his hands and supplicated at a time when the sky was as clear as glass. Suddenly wind blew, driving together the clouds and causing heavy rain. We exited the mosque wading through flowing water till we reached our homes. It kept raining until the following Friday, when the same man—or another man—stood up and said, “O Messenger of Allah ﷺ, the houses have almost collapsed; please ask Allah to withhold the rain!” Hearing that, the Prophet ﷺ smiled and said, “O Allah, [let it rain] around us and not upon us.”[48] I looked to the clouds and found them separating into a crown-like formation around Madinah.[49]

    Abū Hurayrah (rA) narrates that he once came to the Prophet ﷺ with tears in his eyes, which caused him to ask, “What makes you cry, O Abū Hurayrah?” He said, “I keep inviting my mother to Islam, but she continues to reject it. Today, I invited her again and heard from her painful words about you. Pray that Allah opens the heart of Abū Hurayrah’s mother to Islam.” The Prophet ﷺ obliged and said, “O Allah, guide the mother of Abū Hurayrah.” Abū Hurayrah narrates:

    I left hopeful due to the prayer of the Prophet ﷺ and returned home to find the door partially open and could hear water splashing inside. When my mother heard my footsteps, she said, “Stay where you are, O Abū Hurayrah.” After putting on her clothes, she instructed me to enter. When I entered, she said, “I testify that none is worthy of worship but Allah, and I testify that Muhammad is His servant and messenger.” I returned to the Prophet ﷺ weeping with joy, just as an hour earlier I had gone weeping in sadness, and said, “Great news, O Messenger of Allah! Allah has answered your prayer and guided the mother of Abū Hurayrah to Islam.” He praised Allah and thanked Him, and then I said, “O Messenger of Allah, pray that Allah make my mother and I beloved to His believing slaves, and make them beloved to us.” He ﷺ obliged, and there has not since been a believing slave who hears of me, or sees me, except that he loves me.”[50]

    ‘Abdullāh ibn ‘Abbās (rA) narrates:

    I once placed water for the Prophet ﷺ upon him entering the lavatory, so that he could perform his ablution. He ﷺ asked, “Who placed this?” They informed him that I had placed it, so he said, “O Allah, grant him a deep understanding of the religion, and teach him to interpret [the Qur’an].”[51]

    Shortly after the Prophet’s ﷺ death, even the senior-most Companions recognized that this young man had developed a unique prowess when it came to understanding the Qur’an and elucidating its nuances. Fourteen centuries later, nearly every credible Sunni work on Qur’anic commentary considers the explanations of Ibn ‘Abbās authoritative, is filled with examples of them, and testifies to him being Turjumān al-Qur’ān (the Master Interpreter of the Qur’an).

    Anas ibn Mālik (rA) narrates:

    The Messenger of Allah ﷺ once visited us at home when nobody was there but myself, my mother (Umm Sulaym), and her sister (Umm Ḥarām). My mother said to him, “O Messenger of Allah, this is your little servant (Anas); invoke Allah’s blessings upon him.” He ﷺ supplicated that I be afforded every good, and this is what he said to conclude his supplication: “O Allah, increase him in his wealth and progeny, and bless him in what you grant him.” By Allah, my wealth has certainly become abundant, and my children and grandchildren [combined] certainly surpass a hundred today.[52]

    ‘Abdullāh ibn ‘Umar (rA) narrates that the Prophet ﷺ once said, “O Allah, honor Islam through the dearest of these two men to you: through Abū Jahl or through ‘Umar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb.” Ibn ‘Umar said, “And the dearest of them turned out to be ‘Umar.”[53] Indeed, no person from the Prophet’s Companions honored Islam by advancing its public presence like ‘Umar (rA), as Ibn Mas‘ūd (rA) used to say, “We remained powerful since the moment ‘Umar embraced Islam.”[54] Even after the Prophet’s ﷺ death, it was the unique impact of ‘Umar in spreading the light of Islam that compelled the historian Michael Hart to showcase him in his book, The 100: A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons in History.

    Abū ‘Amrah al-Anṣāri (rA) reports that during a battle alongside the Messenger of Allah ﷺ, the people once again suffered from great hunger, and ‘Umar (rA) said, “O Messenger of Allah, if you see it proper, you can collect what remains of our rations. We can gather them, then you can call upon Allah to bless them, for Allah the Blessed and Exalted will certainly deliver us with your supplication.” Some people brought a single handful, and nobody had more than a ā‘ of dates. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ gathered it all together, then stood and supplicated for as long as Allah willed. Then, he called the army to come forth with their containers and fill them, and there did not remain a single container in the whole army except that they filled it. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ smiled until his molars could be seen, and said, “I testify that none is worthy of worship except Allah and that I am the Messenger of Allah. No slave meets Allah with these two statements without doubting them but that he will enter Paradise.”[55]

    Ibn Taymīyah says,

    It is known that when Allah accustoms someone to having their prayers answered, this only happens in conjunction with righteousness and religiosity. When someone claims prophethood, they are either the most pious person—in that case they are truthful—or the most wicked person—in that case they are lying. But when Allah accustoms them to answering their supplications, then it must be that they are not wicked but instead pious. Even if the claim of prophethood was accompanied by nothing but righteousness [from the claimant] without miracles, it would necessitate him being a genuine prophet, for such a person cannot be someone who deliberately lies, nor can he be a deluded person who assumes that he is a prophet.[56]

    In summation, miracles are not the only proof of his prophethood, nor are they themselves unfounded proofs. Due to their mutawātir transmission, the historical proofs backing them are staggering, and confer such certainty that their denial would necessitate rejecting the miracles of all other prophets and rejecting every factoid of acquired knowledge. As for the presumed “logical” and “scientific” contentions against miracles, they only stem from a faulty philosophy, such as the indefensible claims that God does not exist or is not anything but nature itself. However, when such paradigms are the ethos of today’s dominant culture, and when humans have such a propensity for groupthink, whether those positions are intellectually tenable becomes irrelevant. This is why God encourages reflection throughout the Qur’an, liberating us from the indoctrination that resists the patent proofs of prophethood:

    Say [O Prophet], “I advise you with just one thing: that you take a stand for the sake of God—individually or in pairs—then reflect. Your companion (Muhammad) surely has no traces of insanity; he is but a warner to you before the coming of a severe punishment.”[57]

    In this verse is a call to courage, as honesty and the willingness to detach oneself from the herd can sometimes come with a significant cost.


    Notes

    [1] Some have claimed that the Qur’an repeatedly denies the attribution of any miracle to the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ other than the Qur’an, but a careful reading of those passages reveals that they concerned God’s refusing to grant specific miracles to a defiant people, or His censure of human beings for feeling entitled to demand a miracle from God or for disregarding the Qur’an when nobody on earth was more equipped to recognize its miraculousness than they were.

    [2] Ibn Qayyim al-Jawzīyah, Miftā dār al-sa‘ādah (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmīyah, 2002), 2:13.

    [3] Qur’an 15:14–15, author’s translation. To this day, when asked what proof it would take for them to reconsider their position and believe in the Divine, some prominent atheist debaters have candidly admitted that there is absolutely nothing that would change their mind. Even a miracle of the most spectacular kind would be dismissed as a “hallucination.” Of course, this is precisely what the Qur’an indicates: that even the greatest of miracles will not convince one who obstinately chooses to ignore every conceivable form of proof.

    [4] See: Justin Parrott, “The Case for Allah’s Existence in the Qur’an and Sunnah,” Yaqeen, February 27, 2017.

    [5] Syed Muhammad Naquib al-Attas, Islam and Secularism (Lahore: Suhail Academy, 1978), 18.

    [6] Qur’an 2:260, Saheeh International translation.

    [7] Baruch Spinoza, A Theological Political Treatise (N.p.: Dover Philosophical Classics: 2004), chapter VI, 83.

    [8] Ibn Qayyim al-Jawzīyah, Ighāthat al-lahfān (Riyadh: Maktabat al-Ma‘ārif, 1975), 2:347.

    [9] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 6:582.

    [10] Qur’an 54:1–3, Saheeh International translation.

    [11] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:206, no. 3636.

    [12] Aḥmad ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Bayhaqī, Dalāʼil al-nubuwwah (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʻIlmīyah, 1988), 2:226; Abū Ja’far al-Ṭabarī, Jāmiʻ al-bayān ‘an ta’wīl al-Qur’ān (Beirut: Mu’assasat al-Risālah, 2000), 22:567, verse 54:1.

    [13] Muḥammad al-Kattānī, Naẓm al-mutanāthir min al-ḥadīth al-mutawātir (Egypt: Dār al-Kutub al-Salafīyah, 1983), no. 264.

    [14] Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāyah wal-nihāyah, 4:303.

    [15] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 7:185.

    [16]  Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 7:185.

    [17] Qur’an 17:1, author’s translation.

    [18]  Richard Dawkins, (@RichardDawkins), “Ridiculing belief in a winged horse is not ‘bigotry,’ not ‘Islamophobia,’ not ‘racism.’ It’s sober, decent, gentle, scientific realism,” Twitter, December 27, 2015, 2:20 a.m.

    [19] “Science, in the broadest sense, includes all reasonable claims to knowledge about ourselves and the world. If there were good reasons to believe that Jesus was born of a virgin, or that Muhammad flew to heaven on a winged horse, these beliefs would necessarily form part of our rational description of the universe.” Sam Harris, “Science must destroy religion,” samharris.org, January 2, 2006. In this essay, of course, Sam Harris merely begs the question, dismissing out of hand the notion that there could be any good reason to entertain the existence of miracles in the world, despite the overwhelming evidence of testimony to the contrary. But dismissing the evidence of testimony entails a death sentence for science, since science is grounded upon the faithful testimony of scientists regarding their accumulated experimental data, the vast majority of which could not be feasibly reproduced. See: Monya Baker, “1,500 Scientists Lift the Lid on Reproducibility,” Nature, 533 (2016): 452–54.

    [20] Al-Burāq is a creature that is not from this world and has been described as a white beast that was smaller than a mule but larger than a donkey, whose stride was as far as the eye could see. When the Prophet mounted al-Burāq, the creature shied, upon which the angel Gabriel said to al-Burāq, “Do you behave this way with Muhammad? Verily, no one has ridden you who is more noble than him!” Sunan al-Tirmidhī, 5:152, no. 3131. This may suggest that al-Burāq had been ridden by other riders from the home world of this creature, perhaps even indicating extraterrestrial life-forms known only to God. See: Yasir Qadhi, “Seerah of Prophet Muhammed 21 – Night Journey & Ascension to Heavens 1 – Yasir Qadhi | January 2012,” Yasir Qadhi, YouTube video, January 25, 2012, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNBtUF7-uhQ.

    [21]  Ibn Ḥajar notes in his commentary on the hadith that other narrations specifically mention that after the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ arrived in Jerusalem, he left al-Burāq and ascended to Heaven through the mi‘rāj, a portal of ascension, concerning which the Prophet ﷺ stated, “I have never seen anything more wondrous than it.” Fatḥ al-Bārī, 7:208. Al-Zarqāni and Mulla ‘Alī al-Qāri point out that the abridged version of the hadith simply mentions the ascension after mentioning the Prophet ﷺ riding al-Burāq, without mentioning that he dismounted al-Burāq in Jerusalem, which is specified in other hadith. Al-Qārī, Mirqāt al-mafātī9:3758.

    [22]  Qur’an 3:126, Saheeh International translation.

    [23] Adapted with the author’s permission from his Facebook post on January 3, 2017.

    [24] Al-Kattānī, Naẓm al-mutanāthir, no. 258.

    [25] Al-Bayhaqī, Dalāʼil al-nubuwwah, 2:360; authenticated by al-Albānī in al-Silsilah al-ṣaīah, 1:615, no. 306.

    [26] Qur’an 2:259, Saheeh International translation.

    [27] Qur’an 18:9-25, Saheeh International translation.

    [28] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 6:592.

    [29] Al-Kattānī, Naẓm al-mutanāthir, no. 263.

    [30] Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 6:603.

    [31] Qur’an 34:10, Saheeh International translation.

    [32] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:194, no. 3579.

    [33] Sulaymān ibn Aḥmad al-Ṭabarānī, al-Muʻjam al-awsa (Cairo: Dār al-Ḥaramayn, 1995) 2:59, no. 1244. For a variant narration, see Ibn Abī ‘Āṣim, al-Sunnah li-Ibn Abī ‘Āim (Beirut: al-Maktab al-Islāmī, 1980), 2:543, no. 1146; authenticated by al-Albānī in the comments.

    [34] Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, 4:1782, no.2277.

    [35] Al-Tirmidhī, Sunan al-Tirmidhī, 6:25, no. 3626; authenticated by al-Albānī in aī al-targhīb wal-tarhīb, 2:29, no. 1209.

    [36] Al-Nawawī, Shar Ṣaḥiḥ Muslim, 15:38.

    [37] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:194, no. 3579.

    [38] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:193, no. 3576.

    [39] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:192, no. 3572–74.

    [40] Muslim, aī Muslim, 3:1354, no. 1729.

    [41] Al-Nawawī, Sharḥ Ṣaḥiḥ Muslim, 12:35.

    [42] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 3:187, no. 2709.

    [43] sā‘ is a container that measures volume, comparable to a large salad bowl, and is equivalent to three liters.

    [44] Muslim, aī Muslim, 3:1626, no. 2056.

    [45] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 5:108, no. 4101–102; Muslim, aī Muslim, 3:1610, no. 2039.

    [46] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:193, no. 3578; Muslim, aī Muslim, 3:1612, no. 2040.

    [47] Al-Qāḍī ’Iyāḍ, al-Shifā bi-taʻrīf ḥuqūq al-muṣṭafá, 1:325.

    [48] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 2:28, no. 1013.

    [49] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 4:195, no.3582.

    [50] Muslim, aī Muslim, 4:1938, no. 2491.

    [51] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 1:41, no. 143; Muslim, Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, 4:1927, no. 2477.

    [52] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 8:75, no. 6344; Muslim, aī Muslim, 4:1929, no. 2481.

    [53] Al-Tirmidhī, Sunan al-Tirmidhī, 6:58, no. 3681; authenticated by al-Tirmidhī in the comments.

    [54] Al-Bukhārī, Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 5:11, no. 3684.

    [55] Muslim, aī Muslim, 1:55, no. 27.

    [56] Taqī al-Dīn Aḥmad ibn Taymīyah, al-Jawāb al-ṣaḥīḥ li-man baddala dīn al-masīḥ (Saudi Arabia: Dār al-‘Āṣimah, 1999), 6:297.

    [57] Qur’an 34:46, author’s translation.

  • Our Way of Speaking: A Sunnah of Allah | Animation

    Our Way of Speaking: A Sunnah of Allah | Animation

    When people listen to the same reminder or khutbah, they often find different things they can relate to. That is because Allah created us with different spiritual personalities.

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