Religious zeal can be off-putting.
“You want me to believe what now?! Can you prove it? Oh, I see, you’d like me to first buy an assumption as far-fetched as your claim. No, I’ll skip your well-meaning sermon today.”
How and why do we get so indoctrinated into believing strange things? Why does the obvious alternative seem so bad for so long before traditional clerics nod in the direction of reformers? Too often, the story among my generation goes: I was once deep into it, but I have major reservations about religion now. That’s the opening line to a scary story that ends with the narrator distancing him/herself from the faith or leaving it entirely. The disillusioned youth minister or social justice advocate (name your mission here __________) each can tell this tale. If you allow yourself to empathize with their experience, you may discover their litany of grievances to have real merit. Then you are left questioning where you stand in your own faith. Wondering about your own values.
Problems with religion can be structural and social: abuse, misogyny, corruption, or the tragic human tendency to dehumanize others. For the postmodernist, philosophical doubts turn into skepticism.
If everyone in the room seems to accept the traditional narrative, justification or authority, but you are starting to doubt the entire enterprise, please panic, you may be a postmodernist.
Theology begins to appear as a human construct that articulates opinions rather than the Truth. Sectarian appeals to why those guys are wrong (and my team is right) lose much of their allure. Skepticism regarding simplified narratives expands when you study medieval Islamic thought and find members of the in-group (e.g. Sunni scholarship) mirroring the claims and practices of outsiders (e.g. Shi‘i and Ibadi groups) and vice versa. Why do we hate them again? What was the story? Oh, screw it.
A Search for the Essential
One timeless characteristic of religion is the business of differentiating the universal from the contingent*. Discouraging murder and theft seems to be a universal constant. I’m not so sure about the use of ancient toothpicks and the inclusion of dates in one’s diet:
Would the Prophet be more pleased with his community imitating him with the use of ancient toothpicks or does the spirit of his example encourage dental hygiene and the importance of brushing and flossing regularly?
Did the Prophet want Muslims around the world to follow his example (sunna) by specifically eating dates or did he desire that they become satisfied with the simplest and most agriculturally abundant product available to them in their own countries?
Does the Quran want Muslims to sever the hand of the thief until the end of time or is the rehabilitation of convicts and crime prevention through means that are consistent with social norms and customs (‘urf) the actual imperative?
The faithful will disagree with one another in identifying what exactly is essential to the Islamic tradition. For example, traditional and conservative voices may outright condemn any discussion of reformulating inheritance laws as blasphemy (kufr), while a reformist may consider such endeavors necessary since the financial conventions of a community should suit its particular economic and social conditions. Adnan Ibrahim makes this point when addressing the Quran’s injunction for male siblings to receive twice that of the female (Q4:11). He points out that the very same verse entitles women to receive a larger share than other male relatives in some cases. A woman’s legal right to all, half or a portion of a person’s estate is subject to certain conditions and even the school of thought of those involved. Ibrahim asks the audience to make the following assumptions before posing the final question:
Assumptions: The Quran took the necessary steps to reform inheritance in seventh-century Arabia and meet the needs of that community. Both men and women welcomed such reforms as just and appropriate. Those inheritance laws suited early Muslim societies in which women did not have access to certain spaces. In nomadic societies, they did not become tribal chiefs and arbiters and in sedentary societies they normally did not take public office or serve as judges. Since women were not primary wage earners, they were not considered responsible for a family’s financial needs. Rather, many functioned in private quarters and were financially dependent on male heads of households. The economic needs of families in patriarchal societies generally fell on husbands and fathers.
Question: If inheritance laws entitled women to certain shares when conditions did not allow them to be primary wage earners, should those shares be modified in societies where the norms have been reversed? If women are equally expected to earn incomes, engage in business and public service, and assume financial responsibility for a household, what is the proper ruling?
The Minimalist’s Approach
Ibrahim questions the suitability of normative inheritance laws in modern societies where women are the primary or sole wage earners or earn more than their partners. Ibrahim argues that jurists must consider the context in which scripture previously delineated such financial shares and contemplate appropriate measures to similarly meet the needs of society today.
I think a reformer like Ibrahim may analyze these legal questions with two assumptions that some clerics would reject (after condemning this entire discussion as blasphemous):
The Qur’an and the Prophet provided historically contingent solutions using sublime and universal principles. It is up to the community to identify and appropriately apply those universal principles. Imitating seventh-century applications of universal principles when the social context and conditions have obviously changed will lead to grave errors.
A community should have minimalist rather than maximalist expectations of sacred texts like the Qur’an and Hadith. The minimalist assumes that sacred texts endeavor to set guidelines that offer the minimum levels of decorum for a person or society to function. In contrast, a conservative cleric may expect sacred texts to plainly articulate the final word on a subject and maximum goals for a community. A maximalist would negatively view attempts to creatively meet the spiritual or social needs of a community beyond the text.
Prophets inspired members of their communities to go above and beyond the minimum requirements outlined in scripture. Beyond the annual alms, give charity freely. Beyond the month of Ramadan, fast weekly. Avoiding adultery is good, but abstaining from coveting the spouse of another is better. Regular prayer is good, but spiritual perfection (ihsan) commands frequent meditation (dhikr) throughout the day. The point is that sacred texts which establish ethical and legal principles can be viewed as the starting point rather than the finishing line if one maintains minimalist expectations of those texts. Reformist discussions of gender justice, race, war and penal codes can be understood as a search for the ideal application and appropriate expansion of universal principles.
The Qur’an and the Prophet’s example can be viewed as providing historical/time-bound precedents for timeless principles. Scholars in each generation have the difficult task of identifying those timeless principles and applying them in ways suitable to their time and place.
The Legacy of the Prophet
A certain type of indoctrination will lead us to dehumanize and abuse others. To ignore their grievances. Religious zeal may lead a pious Jew, Christian or Muslim to justify such dehumanization of ‘the other,’ but an atheist can equally take part in this process. People without faith can reflect a dark parallel to religious zeal by perpetuating stereotypes, misogyny or racism. Bigotry is an equal opportunity lender. I’m pessimistic that we will ever fully stop hurting one another, but I’d like to explore ways we can try.
Anti-Muslim sentiment has led some writers to utilize texts in the medieval Islamic tradition to unfairly portray the Prophet Muhammad as an immoral person who wantonly participated in the abuse of those around him. These portrayals serve to collectively spread Islamophobia and demoralize Muslims (“you see! Muslims and the founder of their religion are all evil and dangerous”). I’m troubled by the gusto with which non-specialists will claim to know historical “facts” about the Prophet.
“Have you come across any manuscripts or alternative accounts that discuss this subject? No? Oh, I see, you don’t read Arabic.”
The human conscience is horrified in even contemplating some of the questions:
Did the Prophet and all of his followers support the institution of slavery and extra-marital relations with concubines?
Did the Prophet and his disciples imprison and execute 600-900 Jews (from the tribe of Qurayza) in a single day?
Did the Prophet marry a child bride?
A few writers and exegetes of the Qur’an in the modern period have firmly answered these questions in the negative. In the essays that follow, I hope to survey some of their arguments. I think a reevaluation of the Prophet’s legacy, a post-modern ethic, and the inclusion of medieval sources and contemporary voices that have hitherto received little attention will serve in destabilizing literature that unfairly misrepresents him.
*For more on this topic, see Tariq Ramadan, Radical Reform: Islamic Ethics and Liberation. (Oxford: 2008); Abdulkarim Soroush, The Expansion of Prophetic Experience: Essays on Historicity, Contingency and Plurality on Religion. (Leiden: 2009).
Professor Nebil Husayn teaches courses related to Islam at the University of Miami. His research broadly encompasses the development of Islamic theology and historiography. He is also interested in the role of skepticism in modern Muslim interpretations of the Qur'an and hadith.