‘Our Lord! I have settled one of my offspring in a barren valley near Your Sacred House so that, O Lord, they may establish the prayer. Thus make the hearts of people incline towards them, and provide them with fruits, so that they may give thanks.’ [14:37]
This duʿa was made around 2000 BC. But let’s go even further back in sacred time to the dawn of man’s arrival on earth, to 3000 years earlier; or much more so:
It’s been said that Adam, the first man and prophet, having been told to leave Paradise for this dusty earth, was ordered to undertake a great journey.
Guided by Heaven, he travelled far till he came to the deserts of the Hijaz and stood, at last, in a valley ringed by mountains; a barren place of rock and sand. There he built a holy structure, a place of worship; and when this task of his was complete, he left. And for a great length of time, silence and stillness descended upon this sacred place, and windblown sand covered what Adam had built. The Qur’an says of this sacred House and valley:
The first sanctuary ever built for mankind was that at Bakkah [Makkah], a blessed place and a guidance for the worlds. [3:96]
The hadiths about Adam’s role in erecting the Kaʿbah aren’t definitive, their soundness questionable. What is certain, though; what does constitutes sound sacred history, is that:
After long ages had passed, two people came over the desert into the Makkan valley, with a child. The one, an elderly man in his eighties, Abraham by name and a prophet by destiny. The other, Hagar, his Egyptian maid-servant who had borne him this child in his old age: Ishmael. Near the mound that now covered the Sacred House, Abraham left both Ishmael and Hagar to the divine mercy and under divine instruction, leaving with them a few dates and a water skin.
Thirsty, hungry and perhaps by now distraught, Hagar left the child under a sheltered spot and began looking for water and help. Following a path that led her to the hilltop of Safa, there she saw no spring nor signs of habitation. She ran to the neighbouring hilltop, Marwa; again she saw nothing. Seven times she ran between the two hilltops, calling on Allah for mercy. It was then she heard the sound of a voice. Hurrying back to her son, she saw standing besides him an angel who was now striking the earth with his wing so that water gushed forth. This was the spring of Zamzam, from which the pilgrims in their millions drink even today. Here it was that Hagar settled, and reared Ishmael, soon to be joined by a wandering tribe from the north, the Jurhumites; and it is here she died and here he thrived.
Abraham would often come back to Makkah. On one such return, when Ishmael had grown to manhood, both father and son set about rebuilding the Kaʿbah; repeating Adam’s deed, as all men must in one way or another. Father and son dug the earth, found the foundations of the original structure, and rebuilt the Kaʿbah as a simple structure of four walls, setting in one corner of this House a white stone:
And when [his son] was old enough to walk with him, [Abraham] said: ‘O my son, I have seen in a dream that I must sacrifice you, so what do you think?’ He said: ‘O my father! Do what you have been commanded. Allah willing, you shall find me steadfast.’ So when they had both surrendered to Allah and he had turned him down on his face, We called him: ‘O Abraham! You have fulfilled the vision. Thus We reward the doers of good.’ That was a clear test. Then We ransomed him with a great sacrifice. [37:102-07]
And then there is this duʿa spoken by Abraham, perhaps when he was leaving Makkah for the last time, or perhaps when he was back in the fertile land of Canaan:
‘Our Lord! Raise from their midst a Messenger who shall recite to them Your signs, and teach them the Book and the Wisdom, and purify them. You are the August, the Wise.’ [2:129]
More than two millennia passed before Abraham’s prayer was answered. By that time, the worship of the One true God taught by Abraham was mixed with much idolatry, the Kaʿbah had been defiled with idols in and around it, and the pure white stone set in the eastern corner had been blackened because of the sins of men. Once more, the sacred House was largely forgotten, except to the Arabs and a few scattered tribes of nomads, of whom history took little notice.
But the time was at hand when the Abrahamic call would be reinstated, re-energised, and its scope made universal. And in the fullness of time, with destiny being ripe, there was born from Ishmael’s seed, among the Arabs, from the tribe of Quraysh and the clan of Hashim, a Messenger of God, a final Prophet, in a line of prophets extending all the way back to Adam and his descendents: Muhammad ﷺ – mercy to the worlds. Under the weight of the final divine Revelation, the Prophet ﷺ restored the primordial Adamic faith and reestablished the salvic truths of Abrahamic monotheism.1
The Pilgrimage to Makkah and to the Kaʿbah, as well as involving the continuity of a number of ancient rites, contains potent spiritual symbolism. The physical journey from one’s homeland is a reminder that one must eventually leave this world forever. Wearing the ihram reminds one that each will be buried in a shroud when they die and shall meet their Maker, shorn of any ability to hide behind clothes of pretension or of status. The huge multitudes of people camped out on the plain of Arafat, or under the desert sky of Muzdalifah, brings to mind the tumult and terror of the Resurrection, when all shall be marshalled together for judgement. But of course, the most potent symbol, and the one that most links us to the Abrahamic legacy, is the ritual sacrifice, in remembering Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son. For Abraham’s story is a story of loving submission – and it is loving submission and surrender that lie at the very heart of Islam.
1. See: Gai Eaton, Islam & the Destiny of Man (Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society, 1997), 46-48.
Is Islam a conquest ideology more than an actual religion, as some now claim? Is Jihad identical to ‘perpetual war’ in Islam’s grand political scheme of things? And is the life of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ mostly about blood and gore and body counts? These are the issues addressed here.
Muslim scholars have long identified two types of jihad (lit. “striving” in God’s cause): an outer form of jihad and an inner one. The outer usually refers to state-sanctioned military force (i.e. armed combat), which is waged to defend both religion and realm, fight preemptively, or guard the vulnerable against unjustified aggression. As for the inner jihad (jihad al-nafs), it is the struggle to oppose one’s ego (nafs) and false desires, until they are in submission to God. This inner jihad is known as the “greater” jihad, as per mainstream Sunni scholarship, and can be read about here.
What follows is a perusal through the reality of the outer jihad – as per Islam’s source texts and the words of classical and contemporary Muslim jurists:
1. The outer jihad connotes a wide range of meanings which embraces: (i) the tongue, (ii) the hand and (iii) the sword. It can refer to the act of enjoining others to good and forbidding them from evil, as in the hadith: ‘So whoever strives against them with his hand is a believer; whoever strives against them with his tongue is a believer; whoever strives against them with his heart is a believer. Beyond this, there is not even a grain of faith.’1 It includes speaking truth to power: ‘The greatest jihad is to speak a word of truth in front of a tyrannical ruler.’2 Striving in dutiful service of our parents is also a form of jihad, as in the Prophet’s reply ﷺ to a young man who desired to participate in armed combat, and whose parents were still alive: ‘Strive in their service – fa fihima fa jahid.’3 Then there is that all-important mode of jihad: da‘wah – inviting others to Islam by conveying its teaching: Strive against them with it [the Qur’an], with the utmost striving. [25:52] And of course there is fighting in war. In brief: not all jihad is fighting, but nor is all fighting jihad.
2. Without doubt, jihad in the sense of qital (“fighting”, “military war”) is enjoined on the faithful at numerous places in the Qur’an and is seen as a highly meritorious form of duty and sacrifice in Islam. Al-Raghib wrote about the schematics of jihad in these terms: ‘Jihad is of three types: jihad against the apparent enemy; against the devil; and against the ego (nafs). All three types are included in Allah’s words, exalted is He: And wage jihad in Allah’s path with all the striving that is due to Him. [22:78] And wage jihad with your wealth and your lives in the way of Allah. [9:41] … Jihad is to be waged with the hand and the tongue, as he [the Prophet] ﷺ said: “Wage jihad against the unbelievers with your hands and your tongues.”4‘5 That said, the idea of jihad being a ‘holy war’ is alien to the Islamic vocabulary. When rendered into Arabic, the term reads: al-harb al-muqaddas, which doesn’t exist in any form in the Islamic teachings. War in Islam may be sanctioned or unsanctioned; but never holy.
3. Islam’s overall take on warfare can best be seen in these words of our Prophet ﷺ: ‘Never wish to meet your enemy, but ask Allah for safety. If you do meet them, be firm and know that Paradise lies beneath the shades of swords.’6 That is to say, pursue the path of peace and reconciliation; if such a path be denied by hostile intentions, then be prepared to act differently. The next hadith might also be used as a support: ‘After me there will be conflicts and affairs. If you are able, resolve them peacefully.’7 Also revealing are these words expressed by the Prophet ﷺ: ‘The most detested of names to Allah are War (harb) and Bitterness (murrah).’8 Given the above; and given also the numerous peace accords or ententes the Prophet ﷺ initiated so as to halt or mitigate the woes of war; let alone how he forgave and pardoned mortal enemies wherever he could, it’s simply fictitious, mischievous or fallacious to describe the Prophet as a ‘war monger’. A reluctant warrior, and a leader who took to combat to safeguard his nation from extinction or subjugation, are far truer descriptions of him ﷺ.
4. In classical Islam, warfare is regulated by an all-important shari‘ah dictum that says about jihad: wujubuhu wujubu’l-wasa’il la al-maqasid – ‘Its necessity is the necessity of means, not of ends.’9 That is, jihad of the military kind is not the goal; it’s a means to a goal. That goal being: the free and unhindered invitation to Islam and the summons to worship God alone. Islam treats war, given the harm, destruction or loss of life that takes place, as a necessary ‘evil’ of sorts: For had it not been for God’s checking some men by means of others, monasteries, churches, synagogues and mosques wherein God’s name is often mentioned, would have been destroyed. [22:40] Two or three centuries after Islam’s birth, its jurists would define jihad in terms of armed combat against disbelievers who did not have a peace treaty, for advancing the religion. Al-Kasani said it is: ‘Expending one’s utmost abilities and strength to fight in Allah’s way, with one’s person, property, tongue, or other than this.’10 And al-Qastalani defined it as: ‘Fighting the disbelievers, so as to support Islam and make the word of God supreme.’11
5. This martial jihad has rules and codes of conduct too. Among them is that the head of state carefully evaluate the potential pros and cons of war; ensure non-combatants [civilians] are not killed or wilfully targeted; abide by any peace treaty or international agreement it has signed up to; and keep in mind receptivity to the call of Islam. The classical Islamic doctrine which forbids killing civilians in a military jihad takes its cue from the Prophet’s saying ﷺ: ‘March forth in the name of God, trusting in God and adhering to the religion of God. Do not kill elderly men, infants, young children nor women.’12 And Ibn ‘Umar narrates that the Prophet ﷺ ‘forbade the killing of women and children.’13 After quoting the last hadith, al-Nawawi stated: ‘Scholars agree upon acting by this hadith and forbid the killing of women and children, provided that they do not engage in combat. If they do, the great majority of scholars (jamahir al-‘ulema) hold that they can be fought.’14 And al-Buhuti reminds us: ‘Declaring jihad or not is entrusted to the head of state and his decision, for he best knows the condition of the Muslims and of the enemy.’15 I’ve discussed the difference between acts of terror and a bonafide jihad in: Terrorism is to Jihad as Adultery is to Marriage.
6. This brings us to another vital aspect about jihad in Islam: who may be fought? Are Muslims required to wage jihad against disbelievers due to their disbelief (kufr)? Imam Ibn Taymiyyah takes up the issue, stating: ‘The disbelievers, they are only to be fought on condition of them waging war first – as is the view of the majority of scholars; and as is proven by the Book and the Sunnah.‘16 Which is to say, Islam permits fighting disbelievers, not because of their disbelief, but only if they initiate war against Muslim societies, or manifest belligerence towards them. The Qur’an says: Fight for God’s sake those that fight against you, but do not transgress the limits. [2:190] Along similar lines, Ibn al-Qayyim, another medieval jurist, held that: ‘Fighting is only a duty in response to being fought against, not in response to disbelief. This is why women, children, the elderly and infirm, the blind, and monks who stay out of the fighting are not fought. Instead, we only fight those who wage war against us.’17
7. Ibn al-Qayyim also said about the Prophet ﷺ: ‘Never did he force the religion upon anyone, and he only fought those who waged war against him and fought him. As for those who entered into a peace treaty with him, or concluded a truce, he never fought them, nor ever coerced them to enter his religion, abiding by his Lord’s order: There is no compulsion in religion. True guidance has become distinct from error. [2:256] … It will be clear to whoever ponders the life of the Prophet ﷺ, that he never coerced anyone to enter his religion and that he only fought those who fought against him first. As for those who ratified a peace treaty with him, he never fought them, provided they kept to their covenant and did not violate its terms.’18 Such was the majority juristic view, that jihad is waged due to hostility; not religious affiliations, and eventually prevailed within Sunni Islam. Thus, the Prophet’s defensive battles, like Badr, Uhud, Ahzab and Hunayn, were where the enemy launched an offensive against the Muslims who then had to defend religion and realm. While battles like Khaybar, Mu‘tah or Tabuk, where the Muslim state was aware of the enemy’s impending aggression, resulted in a need to strike pre-emptively as a form of defence.
8. In light of the above, how do we explain jihad talab – “offensive” war? Classical law manuals almost invariably include the likes of the following statement in their martial codes: ‘Jihad in Allah’s path [is to be waged] every year.’19 Also: ‘It is a communal duty once each year.’20 So how does this square with what’s previously been stated? Well, jihad doctrines were based on defence, not only in terms of actual hostilities launched against Muslims, but also preemptively in cases of likely aggression. This doctrine was devised at a time when the Islamic state was surrounded by other states with whom there was no peace treaty, or who were openly belligerent to it. In such a dog eat dog world, one either attacked first, or else was attacked first. Such was the state of affairs throughout the pre-modern world. The twentieth century, however, changed all that. The U.N. Peace Charter effectively made peace the default between nation states – at least, in theory. As such, Muslim juristic voices began to reflect this new reality: ‘It is essential to note that the world today is united under a single organisation where each member [state] adheres to its terms and conditions. The Islamic ruling in this case is that it is obliged to fulfil all agreements and treaties that the Islamic lands commit themselves to, as is stipulated by the law of fulfilling treaties endorsed by the Qur’an. Based on this, those non-Muslim countries that are members of this world organisation are not deemed as the Abode of War (dar al-harb). Instead, they should be seen as Abodes of Truce (dar al-‘ahd).’21 It is worth stating that Islamic jurisprudence isn’t only shaped by ideals, but also by realities. That is to say, if non-aggression or peace between countries is only honoured in the breach, rather than the observance, there is no reason why Muslim juristic voices will not reflect the altered reality on the ground.
9. Most qualified jurists and recognised fatwa committees of our age hold – and their word in shari‘ah affairs is authoritative and represents orthodoxy – that a state of war shall not exist between Muslims and others except if hostility against a Muslim land is initiated or barriers to da‘wah erected. Al-Khallaf wrote: ‘The legislated jihad is there to carry the Islamic call and to defend the Muslims against any belligerency. Whoever does not respond to the call, nor resists its taking place, nor initiate hostilities against Muslim polities, then it is not permissible to fight them. A state of security cannot be altered for that of fear … A state of war will not exist between the Muslims and others except in cases where hostility towards Muslims is initiated, or barriers to da‘wah are erected, or harm is perpetrated towards the callers or the call.’22 Inarguably, in an age of the Internet and social media, as well as global movement or displacement, it’s nigh on impossible for countries to erect barriers to prevent the da‘wah to Islam.
10. As for when the Muslim army is in the thick of a religiously-sanctioned war, this is where the following passages of the Qur’an (and their like) come into play: Slay them wherever you find them; drive them out of the places from which they drove you. [2:190-91] Also: Slay the idolaters wherever you find them, and take them [captive] and besiege them, and lie in ambush for them everywhere. [9:5] And then, of course, there is this: But if they incline towards peace, incline to it too. [8:61] Observing peace accords with non-Muslim polities again demonstrates Islam’s willingness to live peacefully with its neighbours, regardless of their religion. When Muslims are instructed to fight treaty-breakers, it is the breaking of a treaty that invites conflict, not the fact that the treaty-breakers are disbelievers: Will you not fight a people who have broken their pacts and desired to drive out the Messenger and attacked you first? [9:13]
11. If any Muslim state contracts a truce with a non-Muslim one, other Muslim states aren’t bound by this peace treaty. For each Muslim country has its own peace accords and foreign policies that are specific to itself. The cue for this is taken from the Treaty of Hudaybiyah where the persecuted Makkan Muslim fugitives, like Abu Busayr, Abu Jandal and their men, weren’t bound by the treaty ratified by the Prophet ﷺ with the Makkans. Nor was their guerrilla warfare against the non-Muslim Makkans, or their raids against their caravans, seen as a breach of the Prophet’s truce ﷺ: for they were tantamount to being a self-governing state not bound by the political jurisdiction of the Prophet ﷺ. Ibn al-Qayyim stated: ‘The peace treaty between the Prophet ﷺ and the [Makkan] idolaters wasn’t a treaty that included Abu Busayr or his followers.’23 In other words, each Muslim state is required to honour its own international accords, and not aid or support other Muslim states against those with whom they have a pact of non-aggression. Such is the weight that the Qur’an places on covenants of security and peace accords and truces, as Allah says: But if they seek help from you in the affair of religion then it is your duty to help them, except against a people between whom and you there exists a treaty. [8:72]
12. Ibn Taymiyyah once wrote: ‘The Prophet ﷺ was the most perfect in terms of this bravery – which is appropriate for commanders in war. He did not kill anyone [in war] save Ubayy b. Khalaf; killing him on the day of Uhud. He didn’t kill anyone else before or after this.’24 Of the twenty-seven battles (ghazwat, sing. ghazwah) which took place in his life, the Prophet ﷺ participated in nine.25 The total number of deaths on both sides was one thousand and eighteen persons. Of those, seven-hundred and fifty-nine were enemy deaths; two-hundred and fifty-nine were Muslims. In fact, the number of enemy fatalities drops to three-hundred and fifty-nine when speaking of those killed on the actual battlefield.26 Such were the pious restraints that infused the spirit of jihad of the Prophet ﷺ. What’s remarkable, Gai Eaton wrote, isn’t just the rapid pace with which Islam spread across the then known world, rather ‘the fact that no rivers flowed with blood, no fields were enriched with the corpses of the vanquished … they were on a leash. There were no massacres, no rapes, no cities burned. These men feared God to a degree scarcely imaginable in our time and were in awe of His all-seeing presence, aware of it in the wind and the trees, behind every rock and in every valley … [T]here had never been a conquest like this.’27 All this being so, despite the blood-thirsty image that ISIS-like extremists; on the one hand, and Islamophobes; on the other, continue to portray about Islam and the Prophet ﷺ.
13. Speaking of death tolls in war, Dr. Naveed Sheikh’s essay: Body Count, is something of an eye-opener. It’s a statistical study which attempts to put numbers on the human death toll of religious and political violence during the last two thousand years, and relate these to religio-cultural civilisations. These civilisations, as well as their locales, are: Antitheist (former Communist block); Buddhist (East Asia, parts of South Asia); Christian (Europe, the Americas, few parts of Africa); Indic (India, Nepal, Mauritius); Islamic (Middle East, parts of Asia, parts of Africa); Primal-Indigenous (parts of Africa, the Americas before colonialism); and Sinic (China, some neighbouring states). Key findings showed that the Christian world was responsible for the highest death count in history (responsible for 31% of all deaths: 178,000,000); followed by the Antitheist (22%: 125,000,000); then the Sinic world (19%: 108,000,000); then Primal-Indigenous (8%: 46,000,000); after which came the Islamic world (5%: 31,000,000); and lastly the Indic (less than 0.5%: 2,000,000 fatalities). In contrast to the Islamic world, Buddhist civilisation has an exceptionally good press in the West. Yet the Buddhist contribution to world fatalities is three times higher than the Islamic; the Christian world’s being six times higher, while the Antitheist four times. Yet despite only the Indic civilisation having a lower death toll, the Muslim world tends to always be on the receiving end of media charges and stereotypes of violence, murder and intolerance.28
14. Lastly, let’s touch on the following: a believer’s love for martyrdom. In one hadith, we see the Prophet ﷺ relish the following: ‘By Him in whose hand is my life. I would love to be killed in Allah’s way and then be brought back to life; then be killed and be brought back to life; then be killed and be brought back to life; then be killed.’29 The Prophet ﷺ cherished martyrdom, not because of the love of blood and gore; nor for the glory of war itself; nor for the clanging of steel or the thrill of the fight. He loved it because of what it manifested of the highest service and the ultimate sacrifice for God. To surrender to Allah one’s actual life, for a cause Allah loves and honours, is the greatest possible expression of loving Allah. It’s no wonder, then, that the Prophet ﷺ said: ‘Whoever dies without partaking in a battle, or even desiring to do so, dies upon a branch of hypocrisy.’30 Believers, though, whilst they long to meet a martyr’s death, strive to live a righteous life. For how can one truly desire to die for God, if one does not sincerely try to live for God?
For much of the twentieth century the ‘ulema examined and reexamined the contents of the Sacred Law, so as to accord Muslims some principled accommodation with the emerging global consensus. Islam’s legal tools were, as it happens, well-equipped for the task at hand. The juristic practices of tahqiq al-manat (identifying the context for laws in order to ascertain their current form and application) and maslahah mursalah (taking account of public interest and utility) moved the jurists of the great centres of Muslim scholarship in the direction of acclimatization, adjustment and adaption. And while it is not Islam’s calling to conform to the age – Islam is, after all, the great global dissent – it can and must furnish Muslims with the spiritual and social technologies required to live in the age and navigate its eclectic mix of challenges. More than that, religion must offer believers insights on how best to heal modernity’s discontents and disillusionments too.
Those doctors of Islamic law who are also blessed with being spiritually rooted in the realities of ihsan, teach us that God’s law exists to instantiate mercy not severity; ease not hardship; good news (tabshir) not alienation (tanfir). They insist that today’s times call for tashil – facilitation; but not tasahul – slackness and over-leniency. And that far from capitulating to the secular monoculture, as the short-sighted or fiqh-less zealots imagine, this path maintained a wise, far-sighted openness to gentleness, which long predated the advent of the modern world. Even in the fourteenth century Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah pointed to this salient fact: ‘The shari‘ah is based and built upon wisdom and [achieving] public welfare, in both this life and the next. It is justice in its entirety, mercy in its entirety, welfare in its entirety, and wisdom in its entirety. Any issue that departs from justice to injustice, mercy to its opposite, public welfare to corruption, or wisdom to folly cannot be part of the shari‘ah, even if it is claimed to be so due to some interpretation.’31
The above discussion about war and peace is the outcome of how most contemporary Muslim jurists have engaged the new global paradigms. As individual Muslims, we are each part of a larger transnational ummah. We each also belong to individual nations which are all committed to the global principle of non-aggression. This arrangement is certainly not perfect. But on the whole it has been instrumental in maintaining a fragile global peace – notwithstanding a few illegal occupations, continued conflicts, and even some modern genocides.
At the turn of the second millennium, Gai Eaton wrote that the West still sees Islam as a religion of war, bent on conquest. ‘They have inherited the fear,’ he insists, ‘which obsessed their ancestors when Muslim civilization was dominant and Christendom trembled before the “heathen” threat.’32 He says that even Westerners who’ve turned their back on Christianity still share these fears and prejudices today. As for Muslims, he feels, historically they’ve seen Christianity, and now the secular West, as inherently hostile. Indeed, even today, many Muslims are convinced (and there is much rhyme and reason behind their convictions) that the ‘Christian’ West will carpet bomb them or shred them with missiles if they step out of line. ‘They react either with impotent fury or with a degree of subservience, but always with a deep sense of injustice.’33 He concluded with this sober resolve: ‘There is, then, no end to this argument, so let me leave it where it is and consider what Islam actually teaches about peace and war.’34 And this, more or less, is what I’ve tried to do here.
1. Muslim, no.50.
2. Abu Dawud, Sunan, no.4344; al-Tirmidhi, Sunan, no.2175, saying: ‘A hasan hadith.’
3. Al-Bukhari, no.3004.
4. Abu Dawud, no.2504. Its chain is sahih, as per al-Nawawi, Riyadh al-Salihin (Riyadh: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 2000), no.1357, but with the wording: ‘ … with your wealth, lives and tongues.’
5. Al-Raghib al-Asbahani, Mufradat Alfaz al-Qur’an (Beirut: Dar al-Qalam, 2002), 208; under the entry, j-h-d.
6. Al-Bukhari, no.3024; Muslim, no.172.
7. Ahmad, Musnad, no.695. Its chain was graded sahih by Ahmad Shakir, al-Musnad al-Imam Ahmad bin Hanbal (Egypt: Dar al-Ma‘arif, 1954), 2:84-5, despite the presence of two questionable narrators in the chain: Faysal b. Sulayman and Iyas b. ‘Amr.
8. Abu Dawud, no.4950. The hadith, with its various chains, strengthen each other to yield a final grading of sahih. Consult: al-Albani, Silsilat al-Ahadith al-Sahihah (Riyadh: Maktabah al-Ma‘arif, 1987), no.1040.
9. Ibn Hajr al-Haytami citing al-Zarkashi, Tuhfat al-Muhtaj bi Sharh al-Minhaj (Beirut: Dar Sadir, 1972), 9:211.
10. Al-Kasani, Bada’i‘ al-Sana’i‘ (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyyah, 1986), 7:97.
11. Irshad al-Sari (Egypt: Bulaq, 1887), 5:31.
12. Abu Dawud, no.2614. The chain contains Khalid b. al-Fizr, who has been criticised. Hence the hadith was declared weak (da‘if) in al-Albani, Da‘if al-Jami‘ al-Saghir (Beirut: al-Maktab al-Islami, 1990), no.1346. The ruling of not targeting civilians or other non-combatants, however, is well established in other hadiths and juristic consensus.
13. Al-Bukhari, no.3015; Muslim, no.1744.
14. Sharh Sahih Muslim (Beirut: Dar al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyyah, 1995), 12:43.
24. Minhaj al-Sunnah al-Nabawiyyah (Riyadh: Jami‘ah al-Imam Muhammad bin Sa‘ud, 1986), 8:78.
25. Cf. al-Azmi, al-Lu’lu al-Maknun fi Sirat al-Nabi al-Ma’mun (Riyadh: Dar al-Sumay‘i, 2013), 4:374. Ibn Sayyid al-Nas stated, Nur al-‘Uyun (Beirut: Dar al-Minhaj, 2010), 40-1: ‘His ﷺ battles in this period numbered twenty-five; some say twenty-seven, of which he fought in seven.’
26. Muhammad Sulayman Mansurpuri, Rahmatan li’l-‘Alamin (Riyadh: Dar al-Salam, 1997), 468. The casualties and death tolls for each side, and each battle, is tabulated on pp.433-56. In the original Urdu edition, cf. Rahmatan li’l-‘Alamin (Pakistan: Markaz al-Haramayn al-Islami, 2007), 2:462-80.
27. Islam and the Destiny of Man (Cambridge: The Islamic Texts Society, 1997), 30.
28. Consult: Sheikh, ‘Body Count: A Comparative Quantitative Study of Mass Killings in History’, in Muhammad, Kalin & Kamali (eds.), War and Peace in Islam: The Uses and Abuses of Jihad (Cambridge: MABDA & The Islamic Texts Society, 2013), 165-214.
29. Al-Bukhari, no.2797; Muslim, no.1497.
30. Muslim, no.1910.
31. I‘lam al-Muwaqqi‘in (Riyadh: Dar Ibn al-Jawzi, 2002), 4:337.
32. Remembering God: Reflections on Islam (Cambridge: The Islamic Texts Society, 2000), 101.
During the 4th century B.C., or thereabouts, a series of dialogues or discussions were penned by Plato, one of the greatest of the Ancient Greek philosophers, which dealt with a number of profound existential themes: the origins of moral virtue, the value of justice, the nature of love, the reality of the soul, what defines good governance. Many of the dialogues take the form of Plato’s teacher, Socrates, posing questions to a person or a group so as to help them examine the validity of their beliefs and to wean out any contradictions.
In one such dialogue, The Meno, Socrates takes an ignorant slave boy and, by asking him a series of questions, manages to extract from him the fundamental axioms and rules of geometry. Having done so, Socrates insists that the boy knew the foundations of geometry all along. He had merely forgotten them. In Plato’s belief, each person is born with an innate knowledge of things; including knowledge of what is good and evil, right and wrong. Thus a baby lives close to the truth, but as it grows up it forgets and so falls into ignorance. Through proper inquiry, Plato suggested, knowledge may again be “recollected”.
Now in Plato’s exaggerated conviction about knowledge lies an elemental truth about human nature. The Qur’an makes it known that simply by being born into the human condition, man possesses a certain intuitive knowledge of, and an attraction to, truth, beauty and goodness. In Islam, such an innate recognition is part of man’s primordial nature, or fitrah which, in a way, may be said to resemble the “conscience”. So set your face to the upright religion, the primordial nature which God has instilled in man, says the Qur’an [30:30]. Hence, as turned out from God’s creative hand, man is born pure and innocent, inclined towards virtue, possessing an inborn capacity to sense, as it were, God’s divinity. Man’s fitrah, therefore, is to love God, truth, and beauty, and to feel an aversion towards selfishness, falsehood and evil. Such is his true nature; much as the nature of a lamb is to be gentle or a horse to be swift.
Islam’s view of human nature, therefore, is an optimistic one. Unlike in Christianity, which insists that everyone is born into a state of original sin, the Islamic faith begins with the premise that man is essentially a creature of goodness, and that any veering away from this norm is as a result of his socialisation and upbringing. The Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, said: ‘Each child is born upon the primordial nature, but it is his parents that make of him a Jew, Christian, or Magian.’ [Bukhari, no.1358] These three religions, well-known to the Prophet’s companions and contemporaries, are here contrasted with the “primordial nature” which, as the Qur’an sees it, consists of man’s instinctive recognition of God. Fitrah, in other words, is here equated with Islam.
So in the cosmology of the Qur’an, every human being is born predisposed to Islam, the primordial religion (din al-fitrah), and is perfectly capable of receiving the truths manifested by the light of divine revelation: that God is One, Unique, possessing the attributes of perfection, and that none deserves to be worshipped save Him. But man, when entangled in customs, distractions, whims, selfish desires and false teachings, becomes contentious, slavish, hankering after what is forbidden, and deflected from the pure worship of the One true God. And it is precisely for this that prophets were sent and heavenly scriptures revealed: to help man recollect his purpose of creation and to retrieve this fitrah.
The Prophet, peace be upon him, remarked, ‘The best of you is the one who learns the Qur’an and teaches it to others.’1 For Muslims, not withstanding the sheer beauty of its composition and its cadences, the Qur’an is a repository of revealed teachings, a roadmap for the journey through life, and a fountain of timeless truths to meditate upon; deepening endlessly one’s sense of the divine glory. Moreover, the Qur’an is of God: His Word, Wisdom and Divine Will. God says: We send down in the Qur’an that which is a healing and a mercy for the believers. [17:82] O mankind! There has come to you a counsel from your Lord, and a healing for what is in the breasts. [10:57]
Its name is indeed telling, for the word Qur’an, in Arabic, literally means a ‘recital’ or ‘that which is recited’. To this end the Qur’an is possibly the most read or recited book in the world. It is certainly the world’s most memorised book, and is probably the one that exerts the most influence over its readers. It is a book that has caused countless people throughout history to accept its message upon reading it, or hearing its recital. It has moved hearts to tears, healed spiritual wounds, incapacitated opponents, and astounded academics and artisans alike. The essence of its message is that there is only one God: Allah, who created and sustains the material universe and the world of human experience, and that only He is to be deified and worshiped.
The alchemical effect of the Qur’an, the deep transformative impact it has upon the human soul, is such that even its most ardent of opponents have been profoundly affected by it. One such example is of ‘Utbah bin Rabi‘ah who, on hearing the Prophet recite the Qur’an, was compelled by its sheer and utter sublimity to confess: ‘I have heard an utterance the like of which I have never heard. By God! It is neither poetry, sorcery nor soothsaying. O men of Quraysh, listen to me and do as I bid. Do not come between this man and what he is about, but leave him be. For by God, the words I have heard from him will soon cause a great stir.’2
This sublimity was felt too by Goethe (the nineteenth century German poet, novelist, statesman and scholar) who wrote in his West-Oestlicher Divan how, after inspiring initial astonishment and fear, the Qur’an ‘soon attracts, astounds, and, in the end, enforces our reverence. Its style, in accordance with its content and its aim, is stern, grand, terrible, ever and anon truly sublime. Thus, this book will go on exercising, through the ages, a most potent influence.’3
Thus it is a case of pouring the Qur’an’s healing over our spiritual wounds, and allow it to work its miracle: Is there any, then, to take heed? [54:17]
1. Al-Bukhari, no.5027.
2. Ibn Hisham, Sirah, 1:185, its chain is sound (hasan). Cf. Muhammad al-Ghazali, Fiqh al-Sirah, ed. al-Albani (Cairo: Dar al-Kutub al-Hadithah, 1976), 113.
3. Cited in Shalabi, Islam: Religion of Life (USA: Starlatch Press, 2001), 25-6.
The current state of our planet is one wherein there is huge imbalance and pollution; where the equilibrium of our Earth has been greatly corrupted. Armed conflicts and wars are increasing across the globe; the economies of an ever-increasing number of countries are in meltdown as global capitalism spirals out of control; and we continue to inch ever closer to environmental destruction, to a point where it could be beyond repair. Modern man, instead of being a caretaker of the earth, has become its most deadly predator: damaging the planet, devouring its natural resources and destroying his fellow man!
The Qur’an says: Corruption has appeared on land and on sea for what men’s hands have earned, that He may make them taste a part of that which they have done, so that they may repent. [30:41]
Corruption (fasad, in Arabic) is often defined as: “A thing leaving a balanced state.”1 In other words, corruption is when something becomes ruined, contaminated, polluted and is out of balance. Its opposite is salah/islah: to rectify, correct, or set right. In other words, to bring a thing back to some sort of equilibrium and balance.
What follows is a reminder about how, in Islam, we must be muslihun – people of islah, not mufsidun – people of fasad; of how we are to be people who set things aright, not sow mischief throughout the earth; and of how we, as Muslims, are called upon to be healers, not corrupters. The following core precepts will help in some way to portray the Qur’an’s “earth” ethics:
1. God Loves Not Corruption: The first and foremost reason why we are to be people who seek to heal is because corruption is wicked and God is not pleased with it: And when he turns away [from you], he hastens about the land to do corruption therein, and to destroy crops and cattle; and God loves not corruption. [2:205]
2. Stewardship of the Earth: This stems from the idea of being khalifahs – “stewards” or “vicegerents” of the earth. The Qur’an says: Indeed, it is He who has appointed you as vicegerents of the earth. [6:165] Classical Quranic authorities explain khalifah to mean (i) One generation succeeding another, and (ii) one delegated to uphold God’s laws and administer justice – in other words a vicegerent.2 Accordingly, man is required to tend to the earth, uphold the Divine purpose in it, establish justice upon it, keep it in balance and to work not corruption on the earth after it has been set in order. [7:56] We see this very sentiment echoed in the following hadith: ‘The world is green and sweet and God has placed you as vicegerents in it, to see how you behave.’3
3. Not Living Excessively: About this, the Qur’an declares: God created for you all that is on the earth. [2:29] He has subjected to you whatever is in the heavens and whatever is on earth. [45:13] The earths bounties are for all of humanity, not just a privileged few. Yet, having stated the obvious, we live in a world where less than twenty percent of the globe (mainly us in the “developed world”) consume eighty per-cent of the earth’s natural resources so as to buttress a consumption-driven lifestyle. Our concern here in the West is not fear of poverty, as it is obesity! We have created a world that is now grotesque in its excesses and staggering in its inequalities. Partake of the earth’s fruits for our needs we must; partake of them for our wants we certainly may; but partake of them excessively and irresponsibly we may not: Eat and drink, but not excessively. For God loves not the excessive. [7:31]
4. Honouring the Balance: In one celebrated Qur’anic passage, we read the following: The All-Merciful has taught the Qur’an. He created man, teaching him speech. Sun and moon follow a reckoning and the plants and the trees bow down. And He has raised the heavens and has set a balance, that you may not upset the balance, but observe the balance and not fall short therein. [55:1-9] This, as well as one of the previously cited verses, reminds us that God has created the earth in a state of equilibrium, which itself is composed of innumerable mini equilibriums. We can, of course, utilise the earth for our food, clothing and instruments of trade and, indeed, for actualising the potentials that lie within us. But all of this is conditional on not disturbing this equilibrium, nor transgressing the balance.
5. Enchantment with Nature: For believers, the natural world is as a mirror: beautiful in itself, while reflecting the even greater beauty of God. The Qur’an invites mankind to contemplate creation and be enchanted by its majestic beauty, in order to know and appreciate the Maker of such enchantment: In the creation of the heavens and the earth, and in the alternation of night and day, there are signs for people of understanding. Those who remember God standing, sitting, or lying down, and meditate upon the creation of the heavens and the earth. [3:191-2] Thus, if the starry heavens elicit in us a sense of awe; if a newly sprung rose elicits in us a sense of beauty; if the solemn stillness of an autumn woodland elicits in us a sense of sublimity – then how much more awesome, beautiful and sublime must the Creator of such things be.
6. Celebrating Creation: In an intriguing verse, the Qur’an informs: Have you not seen that all that is in the heavens and the earth glorifies God? And the birds as they spread their wings? Every creature knows its prayer and its glorification. [24:41] Elsewhere: There is not a single thing that does not proclaim His praise, yet you understand not their praises. [17:44] Such verses teach us to celebrate God’s creation, telling us that each created thing, animate or inanimate, extols His praise and glory. The prophets and many of the saints (awliya) are able to hear such praises, while some objects even make known their love for the godly. In the lifetime of the Prophet, peace be upon him, trees and stones spoke to him, and glorified God when he picked them up or passed by them.4 He said about Mount Uhud: hadha jabal yuhibbuna wa nuhibbuhu – ‘This mountain loves us, and we love it.’5
7. Courtesy with Life on Earth: Inanimate things aside, in regards to the animal world the Qur’an insists on courtesy: There is not an animal in the earth, nor a creature flying on two wings, but they are communities like you. [6:38] This courtesy is one that is based on a sense of awe and respect for earth’s living creatures. The Prophet, peace be upon him, was asked: Will we be rewarded for doing good to animals? He replied: ‘There is a reward for serving every living creature.’6 On another occasion, he told a group who were mounted on their camels, chatting to one another: ‘Ride these animals safely and return them safely, but do not use them as chairs for your conversations in the streets and marketplaces.’7 He also said: ‘A woman was once flung into Hell for tying a cat till it starved to death.’8 And there is the hadith where a man took an egg from a bird’s nest, which then distressed the mother bird. Observing this, the Prophet, peace be upon him, said: ‘Have mercy on the mother; return her egg.’9 Such is the courtesy Islam obliges us to show to other creatures with whom we share this earth.
This, then, is Islam’s case for why we must tend to our fragile planet and partake in its healing. This, then, is a believer’s ethical world-view. But for such revealed teachings to truly bear fruit, we must each become, in our own lives, the example we wish others to follow. Wa’Llahu wali al-tawfiq.
Poetry, it is said, is ‘the spontaneous overflow of powerful meanings.’ The following poem is no exception. For the poem speaks of a love beyond earthly love; of a deep yearning for what may soothe our sorrows. Though not at all religious, believers may uncover in the poem powerful symbols of religious sentiment: seekeing, yearning and a love sublimer than any earthly love – the heart’s hunger for God.
In his 1822 poem, One Word is Too Often Profaned, the English Romanitc poet, Percy Shelley, wrote:
I can give not what men call love; But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And the Heaven’s reject not: The desire of the moth for the star, Of the night for the morrow, The devotion of something afar From the sphere of our sorrow?
Poetry like this often presents us with powerful imagery that can help us to reflect upon the theme of “Meaning”. For ‘In some poetry,’ the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, said, ‘there is wisdom.’
Shelley sees in the moth’s desire for the star a poignant symbol of the heart yearning for something which is profound, compelling, sustains hope and soothes us from our immediate sphere of sorrow. Now for reasons we don’t fully understand, moths have a tendency, an innate, inborn nature, to be attracted to light. Starlight and moonlight attracts moths; so do candlelight and floodlights. But there is something of a problem for moths. A candlelight at night will attract moths, but they end up being consumed in its flame. Floodlights on a football pitch attracts moths, but will vaporise them on first contact. The innate longing of a moth for light, if it is the wrong source of light, can lead to its own destruction.
There is a parallel here with the human situation. Man, too, has a deep hunger for what will truly satisfy him – and that longing Islam tells us is for God. In the Qur’an, one of God’s Beautiful Names is al-Kafi – “The Sufficer”, “He who satisfies all needs”. It follows, then, that when we turn our backs on the Sufficer, we shall continue to remain unsatisfied and unfulfilled.
Another of God’s Names is al-Nur – “The Light”, for God is the light of the heavens and the earth, says the Qur’an [24:35]. Muslims hold that creation is a theophany (tajalli), a manifestation, of the Divine Names. Hence if God were not light, there’d be no light anywhere in creation: neither physical nor spiritual.
As human beings, we have an innate hunger for God’s light – for God – and in the absence of that light there is only an unfulfilled restlessness within us. Like the moth attracted to harmful sources of light, we too can misdirect our hopes and longings to things that may harm us, as they fail to deliver what we had expected. The objects of our desires have a marked tendency to frustrate us in that everything we hoped would bring meaning into our lives ends up disappointing us. A most obvious point in case is our current monoculture with its many quick-fixes and promises of fulfilment.
In fact, such yearning for God may even be subverted or perverted, in that one could end-up making a ‘god’ out of created beings or forces. For whenever the love, longing, devotion, loyalty and submission that is due to God, is focused on other than Him, or others along with Him, then this is idolatry – shirk. For as Islam sees things, whoever loves something, desires it, values it, and centres their hopes; fears; love and loyalty around it, submitting to it independently of God, then this, for them, is a deity, a god, an object of sacrilegious worship. Some there are who make a god of wealth, others make gods of women, still others make a god of their own whims and desires. Asks the Qur’an: Have you seen him who takes his whims for his god? [25:43]
In a previous posting about Islam’s rational monotheism (which can be read here), we saw how the Qur’an utilises a rationalist discourse to substantiate some of its main theological doctrines. As for how the Qur’an vindicates itself and rationalises its claim of truly being the Word of God, it deploys the following line of argument:
Firstly, it states that the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, was an unlettered Prophet [7:157]; that is, he was unable to read or write, and most certainly uneducated in the modern sense of the word:And you did not used to recite any book before this, and nor did you write it with your right hand. For then the seekers of falsehood would have had misgivings.[29:48]Say: ‘Had God so willed I would not have recited it to you, neither would He have made you aware of it. I have lived among you a lifetime before this [came to me]. Will you not use your reason.’[10:16]
Secondly, it asserts its miraculous nature – described by Muslim scholars as its i‘jaz or “inimitability.” The Qur’an, as Muslims believe, has no equal: as hard as someone may try, they will not be able to match it in terms of its sheer eloquence, beauty, cadence, wisdom and internal consistency. Speaking about its literary style, Turner said about the Qur’an: ‘Indeed, the Koran is written in a language wholly divergent in syntax and structure from any other, including the ‘secular’ Arabic literature of pre-Islamic times. Many experts in Arabic literature will attest it is distinguished by excellences of sound and eloquence, rhetoric and metaphor, assonance and alliteration, of onomatopoeia and rhyme, of ellipsis and parallelism. So sublime were they that certain Arab poets of the day would fall in prostration at the inimitable eloquence of the Muhammadan message, while the first recipients of the Divine message were moved to deem it miraculous.’1
It is not just in form that it is miraculous, but in content too: Will they not reflect upon the Qur’an. If it had been from other than God they would have surely found therein many contradictions. [4:82] Thus, to those who are prepared to consider it carefully (free of ideological or political agendas which blinker the heart’s receptivity from the outset), the Qur’an reflects a perfect consistency, spiritual beauty and a complete absence of error and inaccuracy which suffice as proof for its Divine origin. In fact, its wisdoms, prophecies, lack of scientific errors, historical narratives, self-assertions and unique literary style – in that it does not fit any of the known rhythmic metres (bihar) of pre-Islamic Arabic poetry (shi‘r), nor the rules of rhymed prose (saj’), nor straightforward speech (mursal) – make it impossible for the Qur’an to be an actual product of human authorship.
Thirdly, the Qur’an challenges its skeptics and deniers to produce something similar to it: Do they say: ‘He has invented it?’ No, they have no faith. Let them produce a speech like it, if what they say be true! [52:33-34] The above verse is one of the so-called tahaddi or “challenge” verses which sets out to prove the divine nature of the Qur’an. Another verse seems to have lightened the challenge: Do they say: ‘He has forged it?’ Say: ‘Then bring ten forged chapters like it, and call [to you aid] whomsoever you can, other than God, if what you say be true.’ [11:13] The final passages on the matter eases the challenge still more: If you are in doubt concerning that which We have sent down upon Our servant [Muhammad], then produce a chapter the like thereof, and call your witnesses other than God, if you are truthful. But if you cannot, and you will not be able to, then guard yourself against a fire whose fuel is men and stones, prepared for the disbelievers. [2:23-24] Now the reasoning here is clinical. If it truly was written by a man, another man should be able to author something similar; even if it be just a chapter (the shortest chapter, or surah, of the Qur’an consisting of just three verses). Yet this challenge remains unmet until today – a sure proof of its miraculous origin. Rationally speaking, then, once doubt is dispelled, one ought to take steps to follow the Quranic message and accept its truths and teachings, and thus guard against the Hellfire.
Ibn Kathir makes the following point: ‘Many scholars have said that God sent each prophet with a miracle that was appropriate for the people of their time. Thus, in the time of Moses, peace be upon him, sorcery was prized and sorcerers highly regarded. So God sent him with a miracle to bedazzle the eye and confound every sorcerer. When they became certain the miracle was from [God] the August, the Compeller, they surrendered to Islam and became righteous. As for Jesus, peace be upon him, he was sent in an age of physicians and those who studied the natural sciences. So he came to them with miracles that were beyond the doing of anyone, save one who is aided by He who revealed the Law. For how could a physician be able to give life to clay, or cure the blind and heal the lepper, or raise to life he who was in his grave awaiting Judgement Day? Similarly, God sent Muhammad, peace be upon him, in a time of eloquence of speech and accomplished poets. So he came to them with a Book from God which, if all men and jinn gathered together to produce the like of it, or the like of ten chapters of it, or the like of a single chapter of it, they wouldn’t be able to do so; even if they were to help one another. For it is none other than the Word of God, which no human speech can replicate.’2
The examples in the earlier blog, and this blog piece, serve to show the rationality of the Qur’an, and that it is one which is grounded in self-evident matters and everyday experience; accessible to all who care to reflect or pay heed. Nowhere does the Qur’an require blind acceptance of its fundamental theological principles. Rather, it urges, it cajoles; demands even, that people use their God-given sense of reason and ponder over its assertions and truths. And while the final step is, ultimately, a leap of faith, the actual run up to it is a matter that engages not just heart and soul, but the faculty of mind and reason too. Says the Qur’an: And they will say: ‘Had we but listened or used our intelligence, we would not now be among the people of the Blazing Fire.’ [67:10]
1. Colin Turner, Islam: the Basics (Great Britain: Routledge, 2006) , 52.
2. Tafsir Qur’an al-‘Azim (Beirut: Dar al-Ma‘rifah, 1987), 1:373.