The Humble "I"

Knowing, Doing, Becoming

Contemporary Challenges to Islam & Muslims [Part 1]

The late Gai Eaton put his finger on the crux of the matter (as it seems to me), when he expressed three or four decades ago:

‘I think it must have been easy enough in earlier ages in the Christian world, and is still easy in those parts of the Muslim world which remain traditional, to hold to a simple faith without much intellectual content. I do not believe this is any longer possible in the modern world, for the spirit of our times asks questions – questions for the most part hostile to faith – which demands answers, and those answers can only come from informed and thoughtful faith, from study and meditation.’1

He then went on to note:

‘Whatever our religion, we can no longer be sure of holding onto it out of habit or by an act of will. We have to be, if not theologians, then at the very least people who study their religion and who think about it.’2

For a long while now, the monoculture’s levelling reverberations – with its underlying modern assumptions, assault on Religion, uprooting of traditional patterns of living, and its insistence on redefining the normative human persona – have radiated outward across the globe, much like how rings spread out from a pebble tossed into a pond. For much of that time, Muslims – and those parts of the globe still known as ‘the Muslim world’ – even if they did put up resistance to the political ideologies which swept over them, have tended to be far less critical concerning the philosophical and civilisational propositions modernity insists upon. These assumptions – that Man has now ‘come of age’ and is to be the measure of all things; that happiness is bound with the merciless wheel of material Progress; and that life and the cosmos are bereft of meaning, beyond what some may fictitiously confer upon them – have prised the individual away from the great transcendental and social continuities of religion, family, craft and earth that had been the setting for normative human life down throughout the millennia. Simple believers of earlier times, who knew relatively little yet possessed depth of faith, could scarcely survive in today’s world where both the senses and the intellect are relentlessly bombarded by imagery and arguments of unbelief.

If commitment to religious faith and practice it to survive such a deluge, knowledge of the core doctrines and cosmology of Islam, and the monotheistic assumptions they are grounded in, is crucial. This is not to say that a Muslim cannot love Allah unless he or she becomes some sort of philosopher-theologian. Not at all! But while less than half a century ago one could be a good Muslim and remain so without having ever heard of Imam al-Ghazali or Ibn Taymiyyah, today a Muslim who doesn’t have some grounding in the doctrines and assumptions upon which the Islamic faith is founded, stands in immense danger, unless cocooned in an impenetrable simplicity or naivety.

Of course, many Muslim saints and pietists of the past did end up turning their backs on a heedless or a hell-bent society. They took as their queue the hadiths concerning times of great political discord, social upheaval, or religious and spiritual degeneration, in which: from the best of Muslims would be one ‘who secludes himself in a valley and worships his Lord,’3 or who takes his flock of sheep to a mountain top ‘fleeing with his religion from fitnah.4

If it were feasible for those who see the monoculture for what it is to withdraw from society and go their own way in peace, this would probably be a good course of action (not forgetting the fact that the core of Islam’s call is decisively urban and city-centred). But there is no where one could ‘opt-out’. For day by day, liberal modernity grows more and more invasive and totalising: suffocating any meaningful dissent, assimilating any consequential diversity, and bulldozing any significant divergence. Driven into a tight corner, religion has no option but to turn and fight. Hence the need to raise the dust of polemics against the ensnaring myths of modernity.

Thus with intellectual and spiritual inquiry as our starting point, and God as our goal, here are some of the most significant existential challenges (in terms of ideas and isms) to now confront Muslims and their faith; as well as an outline of some basic responses to them. And by far, the most destructive of these issues to faith and to salvation of the soul is atheism:

1. Atheism: Denying the existence of God is called atheism (sometimes it is defined as: lack of belief/conviction that God exists). A growing number of ex-Muslims – not just here in the West, but also in Muslim majority countries – now self-identify as atheists. Of course, atheism doesn’t come in one strain. There is, to lift a phrase from Professor Alister McGrath, ‘apathetic atheism’ or ‘atheism of indifference’, and then there is what he calls ‘committed atheism’.5 The former tends to entail no enmity towards God, nor even actively believe that God does not exist: hence the apathy or indifference. As for the latter, it equips itself with what it sees as certain explicit arguments and concerns against theism or belief in God. ‘Sociological research suggests that there are probably fewer committed atheists than apathetic ones.’6 And contrary to the assertion of such atheists today, belief in God is neither intellectual suicide; and nor has science pushed God out of the equation. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

The Qur’an asks: Were they created out of nothing, or were they the creators? [52:35] The crux of the matter here is that while Muslims insist that the divine ‘fingerprints’ of God can be detected throughout the universe – how it originated, how it is ordered, how it operates, and how extraordinary the odds are of complex life or human consciousness emerging in it – atheists desperately field their counter-arguments. For despite modern science revealing the universe had a beginning and came into existence at an event we call the Big-Bang; or despite the fundamental physical constants of the universe being so finely tuned down to the minutest nth of a degree, that the chances of it being mere ‘coincidence’ isn’t just staggeringly improbable, had the value of any of these constants been different by a small, infinitesimal degree, there would have been no universe and no life – despite science telling us this and more, atheists want us to believe that such things happened purely by chance; a colossal cosmic fluke.7 In other words, the entire cosmos just happened to create itself; without any purpose, meaning or intentionality whatsoever. ‘Only within the scaffolding of these truths,’ wrote Bertrand Russell on the core conviction of atheism, ‘only on the firm foundation of unyielding despair, can the soul’s salvation be safely built.’8

To be fair, not all atheists are satisfied with the ‘lucky-coincidence’ response. The fine-tuning of the universe seems far too precise to have happened merely by chance. So in order to explain the existence of a universe which fits the given physical constants and mathematical improbabilities without acknowledging the existence of a creator, many are now advocating the idea of a ‘multiverse’. Our universe is highly improbable only if it’s the only one there is. But if our universe is just one among an infinite number of universes, at least one would fit the required parameters, and it happens to be ours. Or as John Polkinghorne put it, ‘a kind of winning ticket in a gigantic multiversial lottery.’9 If this highly speculative notion turns out to be true, this just pushes back the question of who created our universe to who created the multiverse? Or one is confronted with even more incredulity than our improbable universe: that of an infinite number of self-creating universes. Either way, atheists do themselves no favour by replacing what they hold to be a single unprovable God for an infinity of unprovable universes! Moreover, can we really say that such replies have truly dispensed with the claim that our universe (or indeed, the multiverse) is far more consistent with theism than with atheism? Little wonder we find the Qur‘an saying: ‘Is there any doubt about God?’ [14:10]

That being said, the popularity of atheism, at least here in the West, is undoubtedly on the rise. As for how much of it is an intellectual phenomenon and how much a cultural one is debatable. Although it’s been said that ‘the convictions of the multitude are not so much true convictions as mental and emotional habits, conditioned by a climate of opinion’.10 While some arrive at atheism via certain rational considerations, others are led to it emotionally, with little or no rational inquiry or intellectual journey. Some are atheist just because of family or upbringing and, being preoccupied with the tiny patch of grass under their nose, haven’t given religion or the ultimate existential question any time or thought. For them, atheism is little more than an emotional ‘habit’.

Some stumble into atheism due to an uncritical acceptance of cultural influences. They think that since science has explained the big questions (the Big-Bang explains how the universe got here; evolution explains how we got here) that there is, therefore, no need for God. But a little critical thinking would reveal that just because science explains the workings of how the cosmos came into existence, does not necessitate rejecting God as the creator of the mechanism; any more than knowing about the inner workings of an iPhone should not lead to disbelieving that Steve Jobs was the author of such culturally altering tech. Philosophers call this a category mistake; confusing between mechanism and agent: since we know a mechanism that explains a specific phenomenon, it proves there is no agent that designed the mechanism. Many an atheist, regrettably, even high profile ones, fall into this fallacy. But when, for instance, Sir Isaac Newton discovered the universal law of gravity, he didn’t say: ‘I have discovered a mechanism that accounts for planetary motion, therefore there is not agent God who designed it.’ It was quite the opposite: precisely because he understood how it worked, he was moved to increased admiration for the God who had designed it that way.11

Some, repelled by bad experiences with ‘religious’ people, find their way into the arms of an often sympathetic atheism. Here they may find other embittered souls with their own horror stories to tell about religion or its practitioners. Yet people oftentimes have a very curious idea of religion. They think that merely because a person says: ‘I believe in God’ that he or she should at once become morally upright; saintly, even. If this does not happen, and very often it doesn’t, then either the believer must be a hypocrite of sorts, or else it says something dark about the religion itself. Many think that adhering to religion is the end of the path, whereas in fact it is only the beginning of a long and sometimes rough and rocky road. But whether religious, atheist, humanist or agnostic, inconsistencies abound in human souls, even if they ascribe to virtuous ideals. Yet this is not to say righteous religious behaviour should only be honoured in the breach and not in the practice. Islam, despite it not always being evident from the way some of us Muslims behave, calls to the highest moral and ethical ideals. If a believer’s ethics and conduct fail to demonstrate the beauty and attraction of husn khuluq; ‘refined’ or ‘good’ character, let it not be a cause for the crime of tanfir – of repelling people from religion: It was by the mercy of God that you were lenient with them. Had you been harsh and hard-hearted, they would surely have dispersed from around you. [3:159] That said, one suspects that for some people, casting of the constraints of religion is a matter of any pretext or excuse. Which brings me to one final point:

There’s another significant reason why some people choose atheism, and it’s one that is seldom admitted to. Some – and it wouldn’t be surprising if this some turned out to be a great many – are led to atheism, not by the careful hand of reason, but by the desire to follow their baser desires, unencumbered by moral codes. Here’s Aldoux Huxley, the famous English novelist, philosopher and atheist, on the deeper motive that fuels some people’s atheism and their desperate need for there to be no existential meaning to life: ‘For myself, as no doubt for most of my friends, the philosophy of meaninglessness was essentially an instrument of liberation from a certain system of morality. We objected to the morality because it interfered with our sexual freedom. The supporters of this system claimed that it embodied the meaning … of the world. There was one admirably simple method of confuting these people and justifying ourselves in our erotic revolt: we would deny that the world had any meaning whatever.’12 Other atheists who have reflected carefully on their motives have likewise admitted that their atheism is more emotional and self-serving than it is rational and pure following of the evidences. The American philosopher Thomas Nagel is candid when he said: ‘It isn’t just I don’t believe in God and, naturally, hope that I’m right in my belief. It’s that I hope there is no God! I don’t want there to be a God; I don’t want the universe to be like that.’13

Such atheists understand that if God exists, there are certain ramifications, particularly moral ones. They are aware that it wouldn’t be a matter of sending off a few Dawkins’ titles to the charity shop, or apologise on social media for the unintended misguidance they may have uttered. They realise that such belief necessitates a life of commitment, service and loving submission to God, by growing in knowledge of God and seeking to mould one’s life around the spiritual teachings and moral laws which He revealed – ‘in short, the waving of the white flag and the rebel’s complete surrender’.14 Yet the rebel refuses to mould his ways around the awareness of the Divine Reality that surrounds him and everything else, and is unwilling to give up his ‘autonomy’ or his pride. Instead he claims the world is God-free, meaning-free and morality-free, so he can do more or less what he desires. This is what Dostoevsky could have been alluding to when he put these words into the mouth of one of The Brothers Karamazov: ‘how will man be after that? Without God and the future life? It means everything is permitted now’.15 If such self-deceit wants to pass itself off for enlightened, rational thought, then so be it. But it will ultimately prove costly.

Some of the classical works on Muslim theology relate the following account: It is said that a group of atheists came to debate the existence of God with Abu Hanifah – one of the greatest and most famous jurist-theologians of Muslim antiquity. He said to them: ‘Tell me, before we start to discuss the matter, what you say of a boat in the Euphrates that makes its own way to shore, docks by itself, loads itself with food and other goods, makes its own way back to port, anchors and then unloads its cargo, all without anyone steering it or directing it?’ They all cried out that this is impossible; never could such a thing happen. Thereupon Abu Hanifah said to them: ‘If this is impossible with regards to a boat, then what about this whole world and all that it contains?’16

This simple, undemanding type of reasoning has satisfied many a pre-modern skeptic, although one suspects this would not be the case today. To see this argument as over simplistic is to miss the point. Atheism, to be sure, isn’t anything new; and neither are the arguments of today’s New Atheists: even if their anger and aggression are. For what the issue boils down to is this: That against incomprehensible odds this vast universe came into existence, containing sentient life that has consciousness and to whom the universe is comprehensible. And that screams out for an explanation!

Atheism serves up blind chance or a multiverse as a more reasonable explanation than an omniscient, omnipotent God who created creation with intent and wise purpose. In fact, what seems like a desperate attempt to avoid theism at all costs, Stephen Hawking insists: ‘Because there is a law like gravity the universe can and will create itself from nothing.’17 But physical laws in and of themselves cannot create anything: they are just abstract mathematical equations which are inferred from real material events. So we are now offered belief in an eternal law (gravity), rather than an eternal law-giver (God). But that, it has to be said, is the absurdity of atheism.

Part Two of the blog, God-willing, tackles the impact of secularism and liberalism upon Muslims and their iman, and whether or not they aid in witnessing the glory of God or diminish it? The other instalments address feminism and Muslim feminists; whether or not Islam is compatible with science and reason?; evolution and the functional view of human beings; and today’s spiritual laziness and modernity’s loss of meaning.

Wa’Llahu wali al-tawfiq.

1. Reflections (Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society, 2012), 85.

2. ibid., 85.

3. Al-Bukhari, no.2786; Muslim, no.1888.

4. Al-Bukhari, no.19.

5. Why God Won’t Go Away (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2011), 24.

6. ibid., 24.

7. The issue of the fine-tuning of the universe has been discussed on this blog in, Was the Universe Expecting Us?

8. See: Bertrand Russell, ‘A Free Man’s Worship’ in The Basic Writings of Bertrand Russell (London: Routledge Classics, 2009), 39.

9. Science and Religion in Quest of Truth (Great Britain: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 2011), 74.

10. Gai Eaton, King of the Castle (Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society, 1999), 110.

11. The above argument is adapted from John C. Lennox, God’s Undertaker: Has Science Buried God? (Oxford: Lion Books, 2009), 45.

12. A. Huxley, Ends and Means: An Inquiry into the Nature of Ideals and into the Methods Employed for their Realization (London: Chatto and Windus, 1941), 273.

13. T. Nagel, The Last Word (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2110), 130 – cited in Andy Bannister, The Atheist Who Didn’t Exist (Oxford: Monarch Books, 2015), 91.

14. Bannister, The Atheist Who Didn’t Exist, 96.

15. Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (London: Everyman’s Library, 1997), 589.

16. Ibn Abi’l-‘Izz, Sharh al-‘Aqidat al-Tahawiyyah (Beirut: Mu’assasah al-Risalah, 1999), 1:135.

17. Hawking & Mlodinow, The Grand Design (London: Bantam Books, 2011), 227.

Ibn Taymiyyah: Best Moisturiser for Dry Hearts

In the 1970s, there was an advert on TV for a popular brand of moisturising cream.1 The advert sought to show how great the cream was by first showing us a dry autumn leaf which, upon being scrunched in the palm of the hand, crumbled into pieces.

Next came another dry leaf, this time the moisturising cream was applied to it. After it was squeezed, one saw the dry leaf gently unfolding back to its original shape. The message: If this is what the cream can do to a dry leaf, imagine what it could do for your dry or crinkled skin. I suspect many were sold on this moisturiser … including a young, teenage me!

The idea of moistening or revitalising faces and hands also applies to spiritual hearts. For the remembrance of Allah – dhikru’Llah – nourishes and revitalises the heart like nothing else. Indeed, it is its very lifeline. So much so, that Ibn Taymiyyah once made this following comparison:

.الذِكْرُ لِلْقَلْبِ كَالمَاءِ لِلسَّمَك فَكَيفَ يَكُونُ حَالَ السَّمَك اِذَا فَارَقَ المَاء

Dhikr is to the heart as water is to a fish. Don’t you see what happens to a fish when it is taken out of water?’2

Islam’s masters of the heart teach us, then, to be constant in remembering Allah and in invoking Him. Consistent dhikr, with the required courtesy or adab towards the One being invoked, is key. As commitment to dhikr grows and deepens, and as souls begin to be illumined by the mention of His holy Name, Allah will cover our weaknesses with His might, cloth our lowliness in His glory, conceal our ignorance with His knowledge, heal the anger of our ego with His clemency, and calm the agitations of our heart with His assurance and serenity; such that one will be given to taste the bliss of the eternal realm whilst still living in this earthly abode.

1. The link to the actual advert was sent to me (via an earlier posting of this piece on my facebook page) courtesy of Paul Williams, and can be seen on his: Blogging Theology.

2. Cited in Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah, al-Wabil al-Sayyib (Damascus: Maktabah Dar al-Bayyan, 2006), 93.

Revisiting the Sensitive Question of Islamic Orthodoxy

For much of Islamic history, the question of who embodies the majoritarian orthodox path of ahl al-sunnah wa’l-jama‘ah has been rather contentious. One view holds that it is only the Atharis [Salafis] that are orthodox, with the Ash‘aris and Maturidis being the closest of the heterodox Muslim sects to ahl al-sunnah. Another view is that it is only the Ash‘aris and Maturidis who represent Islamic orthodoxy. Some, like the Hanbali jurist Imam al-Safarini, extended the net as follows:

أَهْلُ السُّنَّةِ وَالْجَمَاعَةِ ثَلَاثُ فِرَقٍ الْأَثَرِيَّةُ وَإِمَامُهُمْ أَحْمَدُ بْنُ حَنْبَلٍ رَضِيَ اللَّهُ عَنْهُ وَالْأَشْعَرِيَّةُ وَإِمَامُهُمْ أَبُو الْحَسَنِ الْأَشْعَرِيُّ رَحِمَهُ اللَّهُ وَالْمَاتُرِيدِيَّةُ وَإِمَامُهُمْ أَبُو مَنْصُورٍ الْمَاتُرِيدِيُّ.

Ahl al-sunnah wa’l-jama‘ah is three groups: Atharis, whose leader is Ahmad b. Hanbal, may Allah be pleased with him; Ash‘aris, whose leader is Abu’l-Hasan al-Ash‘ari, may Allah have mercy on him; and Maturidis, whose leader is Abu Mansur al-Maturidi.’1

Yet how can it be three sects, when the hadith clearly speaks of one saved-sect? Well, in this broader view of ahl al-sunnah, the Atharis, Ash‘aris and Maturidis aren’t looked upon as different sects, but different ‘orientations’ or ‘schools’ with the same core tenets. And since all three ‘orientations’ consent to the integrity and authority of the Sunnah and that of the Companions, and to ijma‘ – contrary to the seventy-two other sects – they are all included under the banner of ahl al-sunnah. Differences between them may either be put down to semantics, variations in the branches of the beliefs (furu‘ al-i‘tiqad), or to bonafide errors of ijtihad.

Given that the Athari creed represents the earliest, purest form of the beliefs of ahl al-sunnah, there is a valid argument to be made by those who say that it should be preferred when there is a disparity between the three schools. For who besides the Atharis were ahl al-sunnah before the conversion of al-Ash‘ari to Sunni orthodoxy or the birth of al-Maturidi?

Having said that, the fact is that after the rise and establishment of the Ash‘ari and Maturidi schools, one would be hard pressed to find a jurist, hadith master, exegist or grammarian who was not a follower of one of these two schools. Historically, and in short: Hanafis have been Maturidis, all except a few; Malikis and Shafi‘is have been Ash‘aris, all save a few; and Hanbalis have been Atharis, all but a few.

And Allah knows best.

1. Al-Safarini, Lawami‘ al-Anwar al-Bahiyyah (Beirut: al-Maktab al-Islami, 1991), 1:73.

Al-Hajjawi: Protecting the Fortress of Faith

Imam al-Hajjawi (d.968H/1561CE) – author of a celebrated Hanbali fiqh text, al-Iqna‘, and its abridgement, Zad a-Mustaqni‘ – wrote the following as part of his commentary to a famous Hanbali adab-poem:

يُقَالُ مَثَلُ الْإِيمَانِ كَمَثَلِ بَلْدَةٍ لَهَا خَمْسُ حُصُونٍ، الْأَوَّلُ مِنْ ذَهَبٍ، وَالثَّانِي مِنْ فِضَّةٍ، وَالثَّالِثُ مِنْ حَدِيدٍ، وَالرَّابِعُ مِنْ آجُرٍّ، وَالْخَامِسُ مِنْ لَبِنٍ، فَمَا زَالَ أَهْلُ الْحِصْنِ مُتَعَاهِدِينَ حِصْنَ اللَّبِنِ لَا يَطْمَعُ الْعَدُوُّ فِي الثَّانِي، فَإِذَا أَهْمَلُوا ذَلِكَ طَمِعُوا فِي الْحِصْنِ الثَّانِي ثُمَّ الثَّالِثِ حَتَّى تَخْرَبَ الْحُصُونُ كُلُّهَا

فَكَذَلِكَ الْإِيمَانُ فِي خَمْسِ حُصُونٍ الْيَقِينُ، ثُمَّ الْإِخْلَاصُ، ثُمَّ أَدَاءُ الْفَرَائِضِ، ثُمَّ السُّنَنُ، ثُمَّ حِفْظُ الْآدَابِ، فَمَا دَامَ يَحْفَظُ الْآدَابَ وَيَتَعَاهَدُهَا فَالشَّيْطَانُ لَا يَطْمَعُ فِيهِ،

وَإِذَا تَرَكَ الْآدَابَ طَمِعَ الشَّيْطَانُ فِي السُّنَنِ، ثُمَّ فِي الْفَرَائِضِ، ثُمَّ فِي الْإِخْلَاصِ، ثُمَّ فِي الْيَقِينِ ‏.‏

‘It has been said: The allegory of faith (iman) is as a fortress having five walls. The first [innermost] is made of gold; the second of silver; the third of iron; the fourth, baked bricks; and the fifth [outermost wall] from mud bricks. As long as the inhabitants of the fortress are diligent in guarding the clay wall, the enemy will not set its sights on [attacking] the next wall. But if they become negligent, they will attack the next wall, then the next, till the entire fortress lays in ruins.

‘In a similar way, faith is defended by five walls: certainty (yaqin), then comes sincerity (ikhlas), next up is performance of the obligations (ada’ al-fara’id), after which are the recommended acts (sunan), and lastly guarding beautiful behaviour (adab). So long as adab is guarded and defended, the Devil will not find a way in.

‘If, however, adab is neglected, Satan makes inroads into the sunan, then the fara’id, then ikhlas, and finally yaqin itself.’1

Given that ours is an age in which the distinction between halal and haram are being ever more blurred; and given our age also challenges religious conviction and seeks to undermine the foundations of revealed faith, believers must always be on their guard against this encroaching onslaught. Crucial to all this is to ensure we are well-rooted in: knowledge of God, knowledge of Self, and knowledge of Sin.

1. Sharh Manzumat al-Adab (Saudi Arabia: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 2011), 36.

Lessons from Imam Malik’s Letter to al-‘Umari, the Renuncient

Imam Malik was once urged by ‘Abd Allah al-‘Umari – who was given to much worldly detachment (zuhd) – that he ought to devote far more time to spiritual seclusion and to other personal acts of piety. Imam Malik wrote a letter of courtesy to him, offering this piece of wisdom:

إِنَّ الـلَّـهَ تـعـالَـى قَـسَّـمَ الأَعْـمَـالَ كَـمَـا قَـسَّـمَ الأَرْزَاقَ ، فَـرُبَّ رَجُـلٍ فُـتِـحَ لَـهُ في الـصَّـلاةِ وَلَـمْ يُـفْـتَـحْ لَـهُ في الـصَّـوْمِ ، وَآخَـرَ فُـتِـحَ لَـهُ في الـصَّـدَقَـةِ وَلَـمْ يُـفْـتَـحْ لَـهُ في الـصَّـوْمِ ، وَآخَـرَ فُـتِـحَ لَـهُ في الْـجِـهَـادِ , وَنَـشْـرُ الْـعِـلْـمِ مِـنْ أَفْـضَـلِ الأَعْـمَـالِ ، وَقَـدْ رَضِـيـتُ مَـا فُـتِـحَ لِـي فِـيـهِ ، وَمَـا أَظُـنُّ مَـا أَنَـا فِـيـهِ بِـدُونِ مَـا أَنْـتَ فِـيـهِ ، وَأَرْجُـو أَنْ يَـكُـونَ كِـلانَـا عَـلَـى خَـيْـرٍ وَبِـرٍّ.

‘Allah, exalted is He, apportions people’s actions as He apportions their sustenance. So sometimes He grants a spiritual opening to a person in terms of [optional] prayers, but not [optional] fasting. Or He grants an opening in giving charity, but not in fasting. To another, He may grants them an opening for jihad. As for spreading sacred knowledge, that is from the best of deeds, and I am pleased with what Allah has opened to me. Nor do I imagine that what I am engaged in is any less than what you are engaged in; and I hope that both of us are upon goodness and righteousness.’1

Its adab and humility aside, the core lesson from the letter is: When Allah opens a door to being consistent in doing a certain righteous deed, and makes that your main focus, then cling to it and do not give it up for anything else. We should, undoubtedly, have a share of other good deeds too; without them necessarily being our main preoccupation or focus.

Something similar is suggested in a report concerning Ibn Mas‘ud, when he was asked as to why he did not fast optional fasts more frequently. His reply:

.إِنِّـي إِذَا صُـمْـتُ ضَـعُـفْـتُ عَـنْ قِـرَاءَةِ الـقُـرْآنِ , وَقِـرَاءَةُ الـقُـرْآنِ أَحَـبُّ إِلَـيَّ مِـنَ الـصَّـوْمِ

‘When I fast, it weakens my ability to recite the Qur’an; and reciting the Qur’an is more beloved to me than [optional] fasting.’2

We ask Allah for taysir and tawfiq.

1. Cited in al-Dhahabi, Siyar A‘lam al-Nubala (Beirut: Mu’assasah al-Risalah, 1998), 8:114.

2. Ibn Abi Shaybah, al-Musannaf, no.8909; al-Tabarani, al-Mu‘jam al-Kabir, no.8868.

Meditations #1: Pressures to Water Down Faith

This short video is about the demand being placed on Muslims to make their religious teachings align with the liberal orthodoxies of the age, and what our response to such pressures ought to be. Should we, as some are now doing, be watering down our faith teachings to make our religion more palatable to a wider secular audience? Should we compromise a few aspects of our religion in order to better our liberal credentials, thus making faith more palatable to the monoculture? These are the issues addressed in this Five Minute Meditation:

Understanding Taqlid: the Good, the Bad & the Ugly [1/2]

Must each Muslim know the proofs behind a religious action before performing that act? In Islam, what counts as “proof”? Is accepting a fatwa of a qualified Muslim scholar on trust, without knowing his legal reasoning, blind following? Can ordinary Muslims who’ve had no legal training evaluate proof-texts and identify the strongest view. How can Muslim laymen utilise their God-given intellects in matters of fiqh? How true is it that there is no “clergy” or magisterium in Islam when it comes to religious authority and knowledge? And who were the Four Imams addressing when they forbade taqlid? Such questions lie at the very heart of understanding what sound Islamic epistemology and orthodoxy is; generating huge schisms, strife and religious anarchy in the ummah wherever and whenever they are misunderstood. This article is an attempt to shed some much needed clarity, balance and authenticity on the subject; God-willing.

Now if we strip these contentions down to their bare bones, they’ve historically been framed simply like this: What is the Islamic ruling (hukm) concerning taqlid, in terms of qualified jurists, as well as in terms of non-jurists and the general Muslim public? It is from this perspective that we’ll broach the above questions. For convenience sake, I’ve split the article into two parts because of its length.

A final point: Some will notice that I mostly cite from Hanbali and Shafi‘i scholars. The reason for this is simply because I have a working familiarity with the Hanbali school and its legal theory, and an acquaintance with Shafi‘i legal theory. But I cannot say the same for Hanafi and Maliki legal literature: hence the slant. Despite this, I believe that the overall picture represent the normative legal theory of all four law schools.


Let us begin by first defining a few basic terms, so as to avoid any cross wires or being at cross purposes. Thus in Islam’s legal culture, the term taqlid has two meanings: one lexical, the other religious. Lexically, it stems from the word qalladah – a “collar” – and is defined as: ِ‎وَضْعُ الْشَّيءِ فِي العُنُقِ مُحِيطاً بِه – ‘To place something around the neck so as to encircle it.’1 For the one doing taqlid, the muqallid, has entrusted his affair to the one he makes taqlid of. He is, so to speak, like someone being led by the collar.

Its religious/legal definition is: قَبُلُ قَوْلِ الغَيْرِ بِغَيْرِ حُجَّةٍ – ‘To accept the opinion of someone without knowing the proof.’2

Usually, but not always, the term taqlid refers to a layman (‘ammi) accepting a religious ruling from a qualified jurist, without knowing the proof (dalil) or legal rationale (ta‘lil) behind the ruling. In doing so, the layman resigns his affair to the scholar and agrees to be guided by him, out of a trust and a confidence he has in his scholarship. It is in this sense that jurists conventionally employ the term.3


The science that evolved in understanding the shari‘ah, or Sacred Law of Islam, is called fiqh: usually translated as “jurisprudence”, and comes from the word faqiha, meaning: “to understand”. Fiqh, therefore, is all about understanding these divine laws and the way they shape the life-pattern of believers. Strictly speaking, shari‘ah refers to the body of laws revealed to the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ which he taught and lived by in his day to day life; while fiqh is the science of understanding, extracting and developing these laws – and this involves human effort.

Now “effort” in the area of jurisprudence is known as ijtihad (lit. “exertion”), and is the task of the mujtahid – a jurist qualified and capable of such juristic efforts, though only after receiving rigorous and prolonged legal training. For uncovering the intent of the Lawgiver – the murad al-shari‘ – and to infer new rulings and legislation from the root sources of Islamic law – the Qur’an and Sunnah, as well as analogy (qiyas) and scholarly consensus (ijma‘) – can be an uphill task. Often a mujtahid must struggle through long days and nights to reach a conclusion.

The phrase used to describe this effort is: بَذْلُ المَجْهُوْد or اِسْتِفْراغُ الْوُسْعِ – “expending every possible effort” so as to reach a legal judgement.4 The significance here is that ijtihad is not just one of juristic effort or exertion, but one of exhaustion! The mujtahid spends every possible effort, leaving no stone unturned, in order to arrive at a ruling. Ijtihad is certainly not merely surfing a few websites on the internet, or skimming some pages of a few Arabic books. It is nothing less than examining and interrogating all the relevant proof-texts on the matter before arriving at a legal judgement or hukm – however many hours, days weeks or months it may take.


Jumping the gun slightly, let’s just get an idea into what level of learning is required so as to undertake ijtihad. Now ijtihad has varying levels. The highest is when a jurist can perform absolute ijtihad – i.e. they can infer rulings directly from the primary texts of the Qur‘an or Sunnah, unrestricted by anyone else’s legal framework. A mujtahid who reaches this rank is called a mujtahid mutlaq. Imam Ibn Hazm was one such mujtahid-jurist. Contextualising Ibn Hazm’s words: ‘I follow the truth, make ijtihad, and do not confine myself to a single law school (madhhab),’ Imam al-Dhahabi wrote:

نَعَمْ، مَنْ بَلَغَ رُتْبَة الاجْتِهَاد، وَشَهِد لَهُ بِذَلِكَ عِدَّة مِنَ الأَئِمَّةِ، لَمْ يَسُغْ لَهُ أَنْ يُقَلِّدَ، كَمَا أَنَّ الفَقِيْه المُبتدئ وَالعَامِي الَّذِي يَحفظ القُرْآن أَوْ كَثِيْراً مِنْهُ لاَ يَسوَغُ لَهُ الاجْتِهَاد أَبَداً، فَكَيْفَ يَجْتَهِدُ، وَمَا الَّذِي يَقُوْلُ؟ وَعلاَم يَبنِي؟ وَكَيْفَ يَطيرُ وَلَمَّا يُرَيِّش؟

“Yes! Whoever reaches the level of ijtihad, and a number of scholars testify to it, taqlid is not allowed to him. Much like how a novice jurist, or a layman who has memorised the Qur’an or most of it, is not permitted to attempt ijtihad at all. How could he make ijtihad? What could he possible say? On what can he base his opinion? How can he fly and he has yet to grow wings?5

He then proceeds to detail the type of learning needed to reach a rank of ijtihad below that of the highest or absolute level. He says:

 الفَقِيْهُ المنتهِي اليَقظ الفَهِم المُحَدِّث، الَّذِي قَدْ حَفِظ مُخْتَصَراً فِي الْفُرُوع، وَكِتَاباً فِي قوَاعد الأُصُوْل، وَقرَأَ النَّحْو، وَشَاركَ فِي الفضَائِل مَعَ حِفْظِهِ لِكِتَابِ اللهِ وَتشَاغله بتَفْسِيْره وَقوَةِ مُنَاظرتِهِ، فَهَذِهِ رُتْبَة مِنْ بلغَ الاجْتِهَاد المُقيَّد، وَتَأَهَّل لِلنظر فِي دلاَئِل الأَئِمَّة، فَمتَى وَضحَ لَهُ الحَقُّ فِي مَسْأَلَة، وَثبت فِيْهَا النَّصّ، وَعَمِلَ بِهَا أَحَدُ الأَئِمَّةِ الأَعْلاَمِ كَأَبِي حَنِيْفَةَ مِثْلاً، أَوْ كَمَالِك، أَوِ الثَّوْرِيِّ، أَوِ الأَوْزَاعِيِّ، أَوِ الشَّافِعِيِّ، وَأَبِي عُبَيْدٍ، وَأَحْمَدَ، وَإِسْحَاق، فَلْيَتَّبع فِيْهَا الحَقّ وَلاَ يَسْلُكِ الرّخصَ، وَلِيَتَوَرَّع، وَلاَ يَسَعُه فِيْهَا بَعْدَ قيَام الحُجَّة عَلَيْهِ تَقليدٌ.

‘An extremely versed and brilliant jurist who – having committed to memory a primer in law, as well as a book on juristic maxims and on legal theory; has mastered grammar; memorised the Book of God and busied himself with its exegesis; possessesing a sharp, analytical mind – has now reached a rank of restricted ijtihad and is thus qualified to investigate the textual reasoning of the leading scholars. Thus when the truth becomes apparent to him in a given issue, and the proof well established, and it has been acted upon by one of the great Imams like Abu Hanifah, for instance, or Malik, al-Thawri, al-Awza‘i, al-Shafi‘i, Abu ‘Ubayd, Ahmad or Ishaq, he follows [what he sees as] the truth; without chasing concessions, but instead by being diligent. Taqlid is unlawful to him in the issue after the proofs have been established to him.’6

Now compare this with the da‘wah that insists (or at the very least, encourages) those who don’t have even an iota of the above depicted skill-set to “investigate” and “weigh-up” the proofs! Such an insane approach isn’t just reckless. It is possibly the single most significant cause for religious anarchy, extremism, and undermining shari‘ah structures to have ever afflicted the body of the ummah. For when juristic restraints are loosened, and handed to those wholly unfit for purpose, all things run amok!


Let’s shuffle back to the issue of taqlid. In Islam, religious terms or concepts often have nuances or multiple meanings. Thus, both justice and academic integrity demand that we take to tafsil, “distinction” and “detail” and not be black and white. It might even be said (figuratively, of course) that when it comes to Islamic law, it is the divine – and not the devil – that is in the detail! To this end, Ibn al-Qayyim versified:

فَعَلَيْكَ باِلتَّفْصِيْلِ وَالتَّميِيْزِ فَال/إِطْلاقُ والإجْمالُ دُوْنَ بَيانِ
قَدْ أفْسَدَا هَذَا الوُجُودَ وخَبَّطَا الْ /أَذْهانَ وَالآراءَ كُلَّ زَمانِ

‘Take to distinction and differentiation;
For generalisations without clarification;
Have corrupted this existence and ruined
Intellects and opinions in every age.’7

With that in mind, the texts of the Book and the Sunnah, and the words of the eminent jurists, identify that taqlid is of two types: one prescribed, the other prohibited. Getting to the nub of the matter, one jurist wrote: ‘It is obligatory upon the lay people who do not have the ability to learn [proofs or means of juristic inference], to ask the scholars, and to then act on the fatwas they are given. This is taqlid in the conventional sense; its reality being: “Accepting the view of someone without knowing the proof.” And it is of two types: permissible and impermissible.’8


Here now is an outline of the lawful form of taqlid, courtesy of Shaykh Muhammad al-Amin al-Shanqiti, followed by its textual justifications:

وَالتَّحْقِيقُ : أَنَّ التَّقْلِيدَ مِنْهُ مَا هُوَ جَائِزٌ، وَمِنْهُ مَا لَيْسَ بِجَائِزٍ … أَمَّا التَّقْلِيدُ الْجَائِزُ الَّذِي لَا يَكَادُ يُخَالِفُ فِيهِ أَحَدٌ مِنَ الْمُسْلِمِينَ ، فَهُوَ تَقْلِيدُ الْعَامِّيِّ عَالِمًا أَهْلًا لَلْفُتْيَا فِي نَازِلَةٍ نَزَلَتْ بِهِ ، وَهَذَا النَّوْعُ مِنَ التَّقْلِيدِ كَانَ شَائِعًا فِي زَمَنِ النَّبِيِّ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ وَلَا خِلَافَ فِيهِ. فَقَدْ كَانَ الْعَامِّيُّ يَسْأَلُ مَنْ شَاءَ مِنْ أَصْحَابِ رَسُولِ اللَّهِ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ  عَنْ حُكْمِ النَّازِلَةِ تَنْزِلُ بِهِ ، فَيُفْتِيهِ فَيَعْمَلُ بِفُتْيَاهُ

‘Inquiry establishes that there is a type of taqlid that is permissible and a type that isn’t permissible … As for the permissible taqlid, which none from the Muslims contest, it is a layman’s taqlid of a scholar qualified to give fatwas about various occurrences. This type of taqlid was in vogue during the Prophet’s time ﷺ and there was no difference about it. So the layman would ask whoever he wished from the Companions of Allah’s Messenger ﷺ about the ruling for the situation he faced. When a response was given, he acted on it.’9

As for the textual proof for this type of taqlid, and who it applies to, this next account goes a long way in bringing clarity to the matter:

‘The legislated taqlid is performing taqlid of the scholars whenever there is an inability to decipher proof-texts. Those to whom this applies are of two groups: Firstly, the lay people who aren’t versed in jurisprudence (fiqh) or in the prophetic traditions (hadiths); nor can they evaluate the words of the scholars. Such people are required to perform taqlid; there being no contention over this. In fact, a number of jurists have recorded a consensus to this effect.

‘Secondly, a person that has acquired some awareness of a law school, and has studied a few of the texts of the later scholars … yet despite this, is deficient in examining proofs or evaluating the opinions of the jurists. Such a person must also perform taqlid. He is not obliged to shoulder what he cannot, for: Allah does not charge a soul with more than it can bear. [2:286]

‘The textual stipulations from the scholars about the legality of taqlid for such people are many, well-known, and rooted in Allah’s words: فَاسْأَلُوا أَهْلَ الذِّكْرِ إِنْ كُنتُمْ لاَ تَعْلَمُونَSo ask the people of knowledge if you do not know. [21:7]; and in the Prophet’s words ﷺ that say: أَلاَّ سَأَلُوا إِذْ لَمْ يَعْلَمُوا فَإِنَّمَا شِفَاءُ الْعِيِّ السُّؤَالُ – “Why didn’t they ask if they knew not? The cure for ignorance is to ask.”10

‘The lay people haven’t ceased – since the time of the Companions, the Successors, and their followers – asking their scholars about rulings of the shari‘ah. Scholars, in turn, have readily responded to such queries without necessarily mentioning proofs; nor did they forbid this to them in the least. So this is a point of consensus on the lawfulness of the laity making taqlid of their mujtahid scholars, and that they are only required to do this of one whom they consider to be a scholar.’11


As alluded to, the prescribed taqlid is a matter about which jurists are unanimous. That is to say, it is a point of scholarly agreement or consensus (ijma‘), and is thus a hallmark of Islamic orthodoxy; of ahl al-sunnah wa’l-jama‘ah. In fact, historically, only a handful of deviant innovators have ever rejected it.

So, for instance, Ibn Qudamah stated: وَأَمَّا التَّقْلِيدُ فِي الْفُرُوعِ فَهُوَ جَائِزٌ إِجْمَاعًا – ‘As for taqlid in the detailed branches of the law (furu‘), it is permitted by consensus.’12

Imam al-Qurtubi has similarly written: ‘There is no difference among the scholars that the lay people should perform taqlid of their scholars.’13

Ibn Qudamah also tells us of who injected this erroneous idea into the religion, seeking to burden the masses, and other non-specialists in fiqh, with an impossible task:

وَذَهَبَ بَعْضُ الْقَدَرِيَّةِ إِلَى أَنَّ الْعَامَّةَ يَلْزَمُهُمُ النَّظَرُ في الدَّلِيْلِ في الْفُرُوْعِ أَيْضاً ، وَهُوَ بَاطِلٌ بِإِجْمَاعِ الصَّحَابَةِ

‘It is the view of some of the Qadariyyah that the lay people are required to investigate the proofs, even in the furu‘. But this is futile by consensus of the Companions.’14

Thus the belief requiring lay people to first know the evidence for the religious ruling they wish to act upon, isn’t just a hopeless and undoable task. The actual antecedent or predecessors of this bid‘ah was a faction of the Qadariyyah: one of the most heterodox and misguided of the seventy-two sects.


Now if taqlid is defined as a person following a scholarly opinion while not knowing the proof, how can a partially learned person, or a layman who is familiar with a proof-text or two in a few religious issues, be considered a muqallid? Ibn Taymiyyah furnishes us with the answer. He explains:

فَأَمَّا مَنْ لَمْ يَعْرِفْ إلَّا قَوْلَ عَالِمٍ وَاحِدٍ وَحُجَّتَهُ دُونَ قَوْلِ الْعَالِمِ الْآخَرِ وَحُجَّتِهِ فَإِنَّهُ مِنْ الْعَوَامِّ الْمُقَلِّدِينَ؛ لَا مِنْ الْعُلَمَاءِ الَّذِينَ يُرَجِّحُونَ وَيُزَيِّفُونَ

‘As for a person who knows the opinion of one scholar and his proof, but not the other scholar and his proofs, then he is from the generality of the muqallids. He isn’t from the scholars capable of evaluating and weighing-up [proofs].’15

This is a highly important point that is all too often misunderstood. The great bulk of jurists maintain that if a person knows a proof-text for any given issue, but is unaware of the complete proofs, he is still a muqallid (albeit one familiar with a proof or two, but not enough to evaluate the juristic strengths and weaknesses of each argument). This “complete” knowledge has three aspects to it: Firstly, knowing the relevant proof-texts. Secondly, knowing how legal rulings are extracted from them. Thirdly, knowing how to resolve any textual conflicts (ta‘arrud al-adillah). So the muqallid includes: (i) a layman who does not know the proof-texts; and (ii) someone who knows some proof-texts, but in an incomplete manner.


The Prophet ﷺ said in regards to the excellence of seeking sacred knowledge: مَنْ سَلَكَ طَرِيقًا يَلْتَمِسُ فِيهِ عِلْمًا سَهَّلَ اللَّهُ لَهُ طَرِيقًا إِلَى الْجَنَّةِ – ‘Whosoever traverses a path in order to seek knowledge, Allah will make easy for him a path to Paradise.’16

Another hadith says: مَنْ تَعَلَّمَ عِلْمًا مِمَّا يُبْتَغَى بِهِ وَجْهُ اللَّهِ عَزَّ وَجَلَّ لاَ يَتَعَلَّمُهُ إِلاَّ لِيُصِيبَ بِهِ عَرَضًا مِنَ الدُّنْيَا لَمْ يَجِدْ عَرْفَ الْجَنَّةِ يَوْمَ الْقِيَامَةِ – ‘Whoever learns knowledge by which the face of Allah is to be sought, but does so only to acquire some worldly thing, shall not smell the fragrance of Paradise on the Day of Resurrection.’17

Just because lay people aren’t obligated to know the proof behind a fatwa of ruling they read or are given, should not prevent them from increasing in their overall knowledge of the Qur’an or the Hadith corpus. As a rule of thumb, it is encouraged for all Muslims to increase in their share of sacred knowledge. Let the lay people apply their God-given intellects to grow in understanding textual proofs related to religious foundations (usul al-din), ethics and good character, matters of the heart and spiritual growth, and basic rights and responsibilities. Books like Imam al-Nawawi’s Riyadh al-Salihin are priceless in this regard. It is only in the area of detailed Islamic law, in fiqh, where the proofs are usually complex and difficult to fathom without legal training. And it is here that taqlid is legislated in order to relieve such hardships. Al-Khatib al-Baghdadi remarked:

‘As far as the Islamic rulings go, they are of two types. Firstly, those known by necessity to be part of the Prophet’s religion ﷺ – like the five daily prayers, zakat, or pilgrimage; and the prohibition of adultery, intoxicants, etc. In such issues taqlid is not allowed, for these are issues every person must know. The second: rulings that need to be inferred, like the details of the acts or worship (‘ibadat) or the social transactions (mu‘amalat). It is in these issues that taqlid is permitted.’18

So let the lay people grow in sacred knowledge and engage with the texts of the Qur‘an and hadiths in such clear-cut and unambiguous matters; whilst avoiding giving fatwas, inventing their own interpretations or speaking about religious matters without sound comprehension. And there’s plenty here for them to get on with. Even then, when they are unsure of what the texts mean or point to, let them heed Allah’s bidding: فَاسْأَلُوا أَهْلَ الذِّكْرِ إِنْ كُنتُمْ لاَ تَعْلَمُونَSo ask the people of knowledge if you do not know. [21:7].

Perhaps it doesn’t need saying, but I’ll say it anyway. It’s not that the muqallid is seen as foolish or unintelligent. For muqallids could be theoretical physicists, mathematicians, doctors, erudite economists, philosophers, accountants, or a host of other professions which require intelligence and specialist learning. They could even be scholars in other branches of Islam: hadith experts, seasoned Arabic grammarians, cultivated linguists, accomplished theologians, or highbrow historians. But they aren’t schooled in fiqh and legal theory, and are not capable of ijtihad in juristic matters. And that, in itself, is not a blight upon their faith, character, or intellectual abilities.


It terms of the legislated taqlid, it pretty much boils down to what Shaykh al-Islam Ibn Taymiyyah encapsulated when he said:

وَاَلَّذِي عَلَيْهِ جَمَاهِيرُ الْأُمَّةِ أَنَّ الِاجْتِهَادَ جَائِزٌ فِي الْجُمْلَةِ؛ وَالتَّقْلِيدَ جَائِزٌ فِي الْجُمْلَةِ لَا يُوجِبُونَ الِاجْتِهَادَ عَلَى كُلِّ أَحَدٍ وَيُحَرِّمُونَ التَّقْلِيدَ وَلَا يُوجِبُونَ التَّقْلِيدَ عَلَى كُلِّ أَحَدٍ وَيُحَرِّمُونَ الِاجْتِهَادَ وَأَنَّ الِاجْتِهَادَ جَائِزٌ لِلْقَادِرِعَلَى     الِاجْتِهَادِ وَالتَّقْلِيدَ جَائِزٌ لِلْعَاجِزِ عَنْ الِاجْتِهَادِ 

‘That which the vast majority of the ummah hold to is that ijtihad is allowed in general, and taqlid is allowed in general. Ijtihad isn’t obligated on everyone and taqlid forbidden, nor is taqlid obligated on everyone while ijtihad forbidden. Rather, ijtihad is for the one capable of it, while taqlid is for those who are incapable of it.’19

Again, stressing the limitations of a muqallid layman in the detailed and exacting art of fiqh, Ibn Taymiyyah reminds us that the muqallid is in no position whatsoever to make a just or knowledge-based evaluation of the proof-texts or scholarly positions in strictly legal matters:

لَا يَجُوزُ لِأَحَدِ أَنْ يُرْجِحَ قَوْلًا عَلَى قَوْلٍ بِغَيْرِ دَلِيلٍ، وَلَا يَتَعَصَّبُ لِقَوْلِ عَلَى قَوْلٍ وَلَا قَائِلٍ عَلَى قَائِلٍ بِغَيْرِ حُجَّةٍ؛ بَلْ مَنْ كَانَ مُقَلِّدًا لَزِمَ حُكْمَ التَّقْلِيدِ، فَلَمْ يُرَجِّحْ، وَلَمْ يُزَيِّفْ، وَلَمْ يُصَوِّبْ، وَلَمْ يُخَطِّئْ؛

‘It is not permissible for anyone to prefer one view over another without a proof, nor to be bias towards one opinion over another; or one person’s saying over another, without an evidence. Instead, whoever is a muqallid, then the ruling of taqlid applies to him: he cannot weigh-up, evaluate, or judge [a view] to be correct or incorrect.’20

Another demand arising from taqlid is: ‘There is a consensus among the Muslims that it is unlawful for a muqallid to state that something is halal or haram in those issues of ijtihad where he is doing taqlid of someone else. What he may say is: “This is the ruling in the madhhab I follow” or that: “I sought a fatwa and this was the response.”’21 If only people stuck to their levels and put the above rule into practice. So many quarrels and disputes would vanish into the twilight as egos wore thin and righteous conduct rolled in. But alas! Our social media age, whilst permitting a greater flow of information, has now elevated the hasty and ill-informed opinion to the same level as the seasoned and qualified one!

One last point. If this kind of taqlid is sanctioned by the Book and the Sunnah; and not only that, but jurists have a consensus about its legality, one cannot use a derogatory term for what Islam prescribes – i.e. taqlid is merely “blind-following.” Rather, this type of taqlid is Islamic, praiseworthy and must be seen for what it truly is: ‘The following of qualified scholarship in the details of the religion.’ After all, does one not get rewarded by Allah for this type of taqlid? Does it not count as an act of divine obedience drawing one closer to Allah?


Having covered the outlines of the prescribed taqlid, in particular how it relates to the layperson and anyone else incapable of ijtihad, let us now turn to the forbidden taqlid. Here, Ibn al-Qayyim said: ‘A mention about the details of taqlid and that it is classified into: [1] the prohibited; [2] the obligatory; [3] the permitted, but not obligatory.’22

Then he writes that the forbidden kind of taqlid takes three forms, which he goes on to elaborate as being:

أَمَّا النَّوْعُ الْأَوَّلُ فَهُوَ ثَلَاثَةُ أَنْوَاعٍ : أَحَدُهَا: الْإِعْرَاضُ عَمَّا أَنْزَلَ اللَّهُ وَ عَدَمُ الِالْتِفَاتِ إلَيْهِ اكْتِفَاءً بِتَقْلِيدِ الْآبَاءِ.  الثَّانِي: تَقْلِيدُ مَنْ لَا يَعْلَمُ الْمُقَلِّدُ أَنَّهُ أَهْلٌ لَأَنْ يُؤْخَذَ بِقَوْلِهِ. الثَّالِثُ: التَّقْلِيدُ بَعْدَ قِيَامِ الْحُجَّةِ وَ ظُهُورِ الدَّلِيلِ عَلَى خِلَافِ قَوْلِ الْمُقَلَّدِ

‘The first category is of three types: Firstly, to turn away from what Allah has revealed and not resort to it, sufficing instead with following one’s forefathers. Secondly, doing taqlid of someone, not knowing if they are qualified so that they can be authoritatively followed. Thirdly, doing taqlid in the face of the proof being established, and it is clear that the proof opposes the view of the authority being followed.‘23

This concludes the first part of the discussion. The second begins by looking into each of these three types of forbidden taqlid and, in the process, sweep away the myths and misinterpretations that have crept into this area, and that erroneously pass as religion in certain quarters of Muslim thought. The words of the Four Imams and their censure of taqlid will also be put into their rightful context. Finally, I’ll attempt to round off the article with a brief word about madhhabs.

1. Al-Tufi, Sharh Mukhtasar al-Rawdah (Beirut: Mu’assasah al-Risalah, 1410H), 3:650.

2. Al-Ghazali, al-Mustasfa min ‘Ilm al-Usul (Cairo: Maktabah al-Tijariyyah, 1356H), 2:387.

3. See: Bakr Abu Zayd, al-Madkhal al-Mufassal ila Fiqh Ahmad b. Hanbal (Riyadh: Dar al-Tawhid, 1411H), 1:64.

4. See: al-Ba‘li, Talkhis Rawdat al-Nazir (Riyadh: Maktabah al-Rushd, 1429H), 347.

5. Siyar A‘lam al-Nubala (Beirut: Mu’assasah al-Risalah, 1419H), 18:191.

6. ibid., 18:191.

7. Al-Kafiyat al-Shafiyah (Makkah: Dar ‘Alam al-Fawa’id, 1428H), vv.774-75; 237.

8. Bakr Abu Zayd, al-Madkhal al-Mufassal, 1:64.

9. Al-Shanqiti, Adwa’ al-Bayan (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyyah, 1417H), 7:318.

10. Abu Dawud. no.336; Ibn Majah, no.572. It was graded sahih due to supporting chains in al-Albani, Sahih al-Jami‘ al-Saghir (Beirut: al-Maktab al-Islami, 1406H), no.4362.

11. Ibn Mu‘ammar, Risalah fi’l-Ijtihad wa’l-Taqlid (Jeddah: Dar al-Andalus, 1421H), 43-6.

12. Rawdat al-Nazir wa Jannat al-Manazir (Riyadh: Maktabah al-Rushd, 1414H), 3:1015

13. Al-Jami‘ li Ahkam al-Qur’an (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyyah, 1417H), 11:181

14. Rawdat al-Nazir, 3:1019.

15. Majmu‘ Fatawa (Riyadh: Dar ‘Alam al-Kutub, 1412H), 35:233.

16. Muslim, no.2699.

17. Abu Dawud, no.3664. Al-Nawawi declared its chain sahih in Riyadh al-Salihin (Saudi Arabia: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 1422H), no.1399.

18. Al-Faqih wa’l-Mutafaqqih (Riyadh: Dar al-Ifta, 1389H), 2:67.

19. Majmu‘ Fatawa, 20:203-04.

20. ibid., 35:233.

21. Al-Madkhal al-Mufassal, 1:73.

22. I‘lam al-Muwaqqi‘in (Saudi Arabia: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 1423H), 3:447.

23. ibid., 3:447.