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The
Principle of Movement in the Structure of Islam
As a cultural
movement Islam rejects the old static view of the universe, and reaches a dynamic
view. As an emotional system of unification it recognizes the worth of the individual
as such, and rejects blood-relationship as a basis of human unity. Blood-relationship
is earth-rootedness. The search for a purely psychological foundation of human
unity becomes possible only with the perception that all human life is spiritual
in its origin.1 Such a perception is creative of fresh loyalties
without any ceremonial to keep them alive, and makes it possible for man to
emancipate himself from the earth. Christianity which had originally appeared
as a monastic order was tried by Constantine as a system of unification.2
Its failure to work as such a system drove the Emperor Julian3 to
return to the old gods of Rome on which he attempted to put philosophical interpretations.
A modern historian of civilization has thus depicted the state of the civilized
world about the time when Islam appeared on the stage of History:
It seemed
then that the great civilization that it had taken four thousand years to construct
was on the verge of disintegration, and that mankind was likely to return to
that condition of barbarism where every tribe and sect was against the next,
and law and order were unknown . . . The old tribal sanctions had lost their
power. Hence the old imperial methods would no longer operate. The new sanctions
created by Christianity were working division and destruction instead of unity
and order. It was a time fraught with tragedy. Civilization, like a gigantic
tree whose foliage had overarched the world and whose branches had borne the
golden fruits of art and science and literature, stood tottering, its trunk
no longer alive with the flowing sap of devotion and reverence, but rotted to
the core, riven by the storms of war, and held together only by the cords of
ancient customs and laws, that might snap at any moment. Was there any emotional
culture that could be brought in, to gather mankind once more into unity and
to save civilization? This culture must be something of a new type, for the
old sanctions and ceremonials were dead, and to build up others of the same
kind would be the work of centuries.’4
The writer
then proceeds to tell us that the world stood in need of a new culture to take
the place of the culture of the throne, and the systems of unification which
were based on blood-relationship. It is amazing, he adds, that such a culture
should have arisen from Arabia just at the time when it was most needed. There
is, however, nothing amazing in the phenomenon. The world-life intuitively sees
its own needs, and at critical moments defines its own direction. This is what,
in the language of religion, we call prophetic revelation. It is only natural
that Islam should have flashed across the consciousness of a simple people untouched
by any of the ancient cultures, and occupying a geographical position where
three continents meet together. The new culture finds the foundation of world-unity
in the principle of Tauhâd.’5 Islam, as a polity, is only a
practical means of making this principle a living factor in the intellectual
and emotional life of mankind. It demands loyalty to God, not to thrones. And
since God is the ultimate spiritual basis of all life, loyalty to God virtually
amounts to man’s loyalty to his own ideal nature. The ultimate spiritual
basis of all life, as conceived by Islam, is eternal and reveals itself in variety
and change. A society based on such a conception of Reality must reconcile,
in its life, the categories of permanence and change. It must possess eternal
principles to regulate its collective life, for the eternal gives us a foothold
in the world of perpetual change. But eternal principles when they are understood
to exclude all possibilities of change which, according to the Qur’«n,
is one of the greatest ‘signs’ of God, tend to immobilize what is
essentially mobile in its nature. The failure of the Europe in political and
social sciences illustrates the former principle, the immobility of Islam during
the last five hundred years illustrates the latter. What then is the principle
of movement in the structure of Islam? This is known as Ijtih«d.
The word
literally means to exert. In the terminology of Islamic law it means to exert
with a view to form an independent judgement on a legal question. The idea,
I believe, has its origin in a well-known verse of the Qur’«n - ‘And
to those who exert We show Our path’.6 We find it more definitely
adumbrated in a tradition of the Holy Prophet. When Mu‘«dh was appointed
ruler of Yemen, the Prophet is reported to have asked him as to how he would
decide matters coming up before him. ‘I will judge matters according to
the Book of God,’ said Mu‘«dh. ‘But if the Book of God contains
nothing to guide you?’ ‘Then I will act on the precedents of the Prophet
of God.’ ‘But if the precedents fail?’ ‘Then I will exert
to form my own judgement.’7 The student of the history of Islam,
however, is well aware that with the political expansion of Islam systematic
legal thought became an absolute necessity, and our early doctors of law, both
of Arabian and non-Arabian descent, worked ceaselessly until all the accumulated
wealth of legal thought found a final expression in our recognized schools of
Law. These schools of Law recognize three degrees of Ijtih«d: (1) complete
authority in legislation which is practically confined to be founders of the
schools, (2) relative authority which is to be exercised within the limits of
a particular school, and (3) special authority which relates to the determining
of the law applicable to a particular case left undetermined by the founders.8
In this paper I am concerned with the first degree of Ijtih«d only, i.e.
complete authority in legislation. The theoretical possibility of this degree
of Ijtih«d is admitted by the Sunni`s, but in practice it has always
been denied ever since the establishment of the schools, inasmuch as the idea
of complete Ijtih«d is hedged round by conditions which are well-nigh
impossible of realization in a single individual. Such an attitude seems exceedingly
strange in a system of law based mainly on the groundwork provided by the Qur’«n
which embodies an essentially dynamic outlook on life. It is, therefore, necessary,
before we proceed farther, to discover the cause of this intellectual attitude
which has reduced the Law of Islam practically to a state of immobility. Some
European writers think that the stationary character of the Law of Islam is
due to the influence of the Turks. This is an entirely superficial view, for
the legal schools of Islam had been finally established long before the Turkish
influence began to work in the history of Islam. The real causes are, in my
opinion, as follows:
1. We are
all familiar with the Rationalist movement which appeared in the church of Islam
during the early days of the Abbasids and the bitter controversies which it
raised. Take for instance the one important point of controversy between the
two camps - the conservative dogma of the eternity of the Qur’«n. The Rationalists
denied it because they thought that this was only another form of the Christian
dogma of the eternity of the word; on the other hand, the conservative thinkers
whom the later Abbasids, fearing the political implications of Rationalism,
gave their full support, thought that by denying the eternity of the Qur’«n
the Rationalists were undermining the very foundations of Muslim society.9
Naïï«m, for instance, practically rejected the traditions, and openly declared
Abë Hurairah to be an untrustworthy reporter.10 Thus, partly owing
to a misunderstanding of the ultimate motives of Rationalism, and partly owing
to the unrestrained thought of particular Rationalists, conservative thinkers
regarded this movement as a force of disintegration, and considered it a danger
to the stability of Islam as a social polity.11 Their main purpose,
therefore, was to preserve the social integrity of Islam, and to realize this
the only course open to them was to utilize the binding force of Sharâ‘ah,
and to make the structure of their legal system as rigorous as possible.
2. The rise
and growth of ascetic Sufism, which gradually developed under influences of
a non-Islamic character, a purely speculative side, is to a large extent responsible
for this attitude. On its purely religious side Sufism fostered a kind of revolt
against the verbal quibbles of our early doctors. The case of Sufy«n Thaurâ
is an instance in point. He was one of the acutest legal minds of his time,
and was nearly the founder of a school of law,12 but being also intensely
spiritual, the dry-as-dust subtleties of contemporary legists drove him to ascetic
Sufism. On its speculative side which developed later, Sufism is a form of freethought
and in alliance with Rationalism. The emphasis that it laid on the distinction
of ï«hir and b«Çin (Appearance and Reality) created an attitude
of indifference to all that applies to Appearance and not to Reality.13
This spirit
of total other-wordliness in later Sufism obscured men’s vision of a very
important aspect of Islam as a social polity, and, offering the prospect of
unrestrained thought on its speculative side, it attracted and finally absorbed
the best minds in Islam. The Muslim state was thus left generally in the hands
of intellectual mediocrities, and the unthinking masses of Islam, having no
personalities of a higher calibre to guide them, found their security only in
blindly following the schools.
3. On the
top of all this came the destruction of Baghdad - the centre of Muslim intellectual
life - in the middle of the thirteenth century. This was indeed a great blow,
and all the contemporary historians of the invasion of Tartars describe the
havoc of Baghdad with a half-suppressed pessimism about the future of Islam.
For fear of further disintegration, which is only natural in such a period of
political decay, the conservative thinkers of Islam focused all their efforts
on the one point of preserving a uniform social life for the people by a jealous
exclusion of all innovations in the law of Sharâ‘ah as expounded by the
early doctors of Islam. Their leading idea was social order, and there is no
doubt that they were partly right, because organization does to a certain extent
counteract the forces of decay. But they did not see, and our modern ‘Ulem«
do not see, that the ultimate fate of a people does not depend so much on organization
as on the worth and power of individual men. In an over-organized society the
individual is altogether crushed out of existence. He gains the whole wealth
of social thought around him and loses his own soul. Thus a false reverence
for past history and its artificial resurrection constitute no remedy for a
people’s decay. ‘The verdict of history’, as a modern writer
has happily put it, ‘is that worn-out ideas have never risen to power among
a people who have worn them out.’ The only effective power, therefore,
that counteracts the forces of decay in a people is the rearing of self-concentrated
individuals. Such individuals alone reveal the depth of life. They disclose
new standards in the light of which we begin to see that our environment is
not wholly inviolable and requires revision. The tendency to over-organization
by a false reverence of the past, as manifested in the legists of Islam in the
thirteenth century and later, was contrary to the inner impulse of Islam, and
consequently invoked the powerful reaction of Ibn Taimâyyah, one of the most
indefatigable writers and preachers of Islam, who was born in 1263, five years
after the destruction of Baghdad.
Ibn Taimâyyah
was brought up in Hanbalite tradition. Claiming freedom of Ijtih«d for
himself he rose in revolt against the finality of the schools, and went back
to first principles in order to make a fresh start. Like Ibn Àazm - the founder
of Ê«hirâschool of law14 - he rejected the Hanafite principle of
reasoning by analogy and Ijm«’ as understood by older legists;15
for he thought agreement was the basis of all superstition.16 And
there is no doubt that, considering the moral and intellectual decrepitude of
his times, he was right in doing so. In the sixteenth century Suyëtâ claimed
the same privilege of Ijtih«d to which he added the idea of a renovator
at the beginning of each century.17 But the spirit of Ibn Taimâyyah’s
teaching found a fuller expression in a movement of immense potentialities which
arose in the eighteenth century, from the sands of Nejd, described by Macdonald
as the ‘cleanest spot in the decadent world of Islam’. It is really
the first throb of life in modern Islam. To the inspiration of this movement
are traceable, directly or indirectly, nearly all the great modern movements
of Muslim Asia and Africa, e.g. the Sanâsâ movement, the Pan-Islamic movement,18
and the B«bâ movement, which is only a Persian reflex of Arabian Protestantism.
The great puritan reformer, Muhammad Ibn ‘Abd al-Wahh«h, who was born in
1700,19 studied in Medina, travelled in Persia, and finally succeeded
in spreading the fire of his restless soul throughout the whole world of Islam.
He was similar in spirit to Ghazz«lâ’s disciple, Muhammad Ibn Tëmart20
- the Berber puritan reformer of Islam who appeared amidst the decay of Muslim
Spain, and gave her a fresh inspiration. We are, however, not concerned with
the political career of this movement which was terminated by the armies of
Muhammad ‘Alâ P«sh«. The essential thing to note is the spirit of freedom
manifested in it, though inwardly this movement, too, is conservative in its
own fashion. While it rises in revolt against the finality of the schools, and
vigorously asserts the right of private judgement, its vision of the past is
wholly uncritical, and in matters of law it mainly falls back on the traditions
of the Prophet.
Passing
on to Turkey, we find that the idea of Ijtih«d, reinforced and broadened
by modern philosophical ideas, has long been working in the religious and political
thought of the Turkish nation. This is clear from Àalim S«bit’s new theory
of Muhammadan Law, grounded on modern sociological concepts. If the renaissance
of Islam is a fact, and I believe it is a fact, we too one day, like the Turks,
will have to re-evaluate our intellectual inheritance. And if we cannot make
any original contribution to the general thought of Islam, we may, by healthy
conservative criticism, serve at least as a check on the rapid movement of liberalism
in the world of Islam.
I now proceed
to give you some idea of religio-political thought in Turkey which will indicate
to you how the power of Ijtih«d is manifested in recent thought and activity
in that country. There were, a short time ago, two main lines of thought in
Turkey represented by the Nationalist Party and the Party of Religious Reform.
The point of supreme interest with the Nationalist Party is above all the State
and not Religion. With these thinkers religion as such has no independent function.
The state is the essential factor in national life which determines the character
and function of all other factors. They, therefore, reject old ideas about the
function of State and Religion, and accentuate the separation of Church and
State. Now the structure of Islam as a religio-political system, no doubt, does
permit such a view, though personally I think it is a mistake to suppose that
the idea of state is more dominant and rules all other ideas embodied in the
system of Islam. In Islam the spiritual and the temporal are not two distinct
domains, and the nature of an act, however secular in its import, is determined
by the attitude of mind with which the agent does it. It is the invisible mental
background of the act which ultimately determines its character.21
An act is temporal or profane if it is done in a spirit of detachment from the
infinite complexity of life behind it; it is spiritual if it is inspired by
that complexity. In Islam it is the same reality which appears as Church looked
at from one point of view and State from another. It is not true to say that
Church and State are two sides or facets of the same thing. Islam is a single
unanalysable reality which is one or the other as your point of view varies.
The point is extremely far-reaching and a full elucidation of it will involve
us in a highly philosophical discussion. Suffice it to say that this ancient
mistake arose out of the bifurcation of the unity of man into two distinct and
separate realities which somehow have a point of contact, but which are in essence
opposed to each other. The truth, however, is that matter is spirit in space-time
reference. The unity called man is body when you look at it as acting in regard
to what we call the external world; it is mind or soul when you look at it as
acting in regard to the ultimate aim and ideal of such acting. The essence of
Tauhâd, as a working idea, is equality, solidarity, and freedom. The state,
from the Islamic standpoint, is an endeavour to transform these ideal principles
into space-time forces, an aspiration to realize them in a definite human organization.
It is in this sense alone that the state in Islam is a theocracy, not in the
sense that it is headed by a representative of God on earth who can always screen
his despotic will behind his supposed infallibility. The critics of Islam have
lost sight of this important consideration. The Ultimate Reality, according
to the Qur’«n, is spiritual, and its life consists in its temporal activity.
The spirit finds its opportunities in the natural, the material, the secular.
All that is secular is, therefore, sacred in the roots of its being. The greatest
service that modern thought has rendered to Islam, and as a matter of fact to
all religion, consists in its criticism of what we call material or natural
- a criticism which discloses that the merely material has no substance until
we discover it rooted in the spiritual. There is no such thing as a profane
world. All this immensity of matter constitutes a scope for the self-realization
of spirit. All is holy ground. As the Prophet so beautifully puts it: ‘The
whole of this earth is a mosque.’22 The state, according to
Islam, is only an effort to realize the spiritual in a human organization. But
in this sense all state, not based on mere domination and aiming at the realization
of ideal principles, is theocratic.
The truth
is that the Turkish Nationalists assimilated the idea of the separation of Church
and State from the history of European political ideas. Primitive Christianity
was founded, not as a political or civil unit, but as a monastic order in a
profane world, having nothing to do with civil affairs, and obeying the Roman
authority practically in all matters. The result of this was that when the State
became Christian, State and Church confronted each other as distinct powers
with interminable boundary disputes between them. Such a thing could never happen
in Islam; for Islam was from the very beginning a civil society, having received
from the Qur’«n a set of simple legal principles which, like the twelve
tables of the Romans, carried, as experience subsequently proved, great potentialities
of expansion and development by interpretation. The Nationalist theory of state,
therefore, is misleading inasmuch as it suggests a dualism which does not exist
in Islam.
The Religious
Reform Party, on the other hand, led by Sa‘âd Àalâm P«sh«, insisted on
the fundamental fact that Islam is a harmony of idealism and positivism; and,
as a unity of the eternal verities of freedom, equality, and solidarity, has
no fatherland. ‘As there is no English Mathematics, German Astronomy or
French Chemistry,’ says the Grand Vizier, ‘so there is no Turkish,
Arabian, Persian or Indian Islam. Just as the universal character of scientific
truths engenders varieties of scientific national cultures which in their totality
represent human knowledge, much in the same way the universal character of Islamic
verities creates varieties of national, moral and social ideals.’ Modern
culture based as it is on national egoism is, according to this keen-sighted
writer, only another form of barbarism. It is the result of an over-developed
industrialism through which men satisfy their primitive instincts and inclinations.
He, however, deplores that during the course of history the moral and social
ideals of Islam have been gradually deislamized through the influence of local
character, and pre-Islamic superstitions of Muslim nations. These ideals today
are more Iranian, Turkish, or Arabian than Islamic. The pure brow of the principle
of Tauhâd has received more or less an impress of heathenism, and the universal
and impersonal character of the ethical ideals of Islam has been lost through
a process of localization. The only alternative open to us, then, is to tear
off from Islam the hard crust which has immobilized an essentially dynamic outlook
on life, and to rediscover the original verities of freedom, equality, and solidarity
with a view to rebuild our moral, social, and political ideals out of their
original simplicity and universality. Such are the views of the Grand Vizier
of Turkey. You will see that following a line of thought more in tune with the
spirit of Islam, he reaches practically the same conclusion as the Nationalist
Party, that is to say, the freedom of Ijtih«d with a view to rebuild
the laws of Sharâ‘ah in the light of modern thought and experience.
Let us now
see how the Grand National Assembly has exercised this power of Ijtih«d
in regard to the institution of Khil«fat. According to Sunni Law, the appointment
of an Imam or Khalâfah is absolutely indispensable. The first question that
arises in this connexion is this - Should the Caliphate be vested in a single
person? Turkey’s Ijtih«d is that according to the spirit of Islam
the Caliphate or Imamate can be vested in a body of persons, or an elected Assembly.
The religious doctors of Islam in Egypt and India, as far as I know, have not
yet expressed themselves on this point. Personally, I believe the Turkish view
is perfectly sound. It is hardly necessary to argue this point. The republican
form of government is not only thoroughly consistent with the spirit of Islam,
but has also become a necessity in view of the new forces that are set free
in the world of Islam.
In order
to understand the Turkish view let us seek the guidance of Ibn Khaldën - the
first philosophical historian of Islam. Ibn Khaldën, in his famous ‘Prolegomena’,
mentions three distinct views of the idea of Universal Caliphate in Islam23:
(1) That Universal Imamate is a Divine institution, and is consequently indispensable.
(2) That it is merely a matter of expediency. (3) That there is no need of such
an institution. The last view was taken by the Khaw«rij.24 It seems
that modern Turkey has shifted from the first to the second view, i.e. to the
view of the Mu’tazilah who regarded Universal Imamate as a matter of expediency
only. The Turks argue that in our political thinking we must be guided by our
past political experience which points unmistakably to the fact that the idea
of Universal Imamate has failed in practice. It was a workable idea when the
Empire of Islam was intact. Since the break-up of this Empire independent political
units have arisen. The idea has ceased to be operative and cannot work as a
living factor in the organization of modern Islam. Far from serving any useful
purpose it has really stood in the way of a reunion of independent Muslim States.
Persia has stood aloof from the Turks in view of her doctrinal differences regarding
the Khil«fat; Morocco has always looked askance at them, and Arabia has cherished
private ambition. And all these ruptures in Islam for the sake of a mere symbol
of a power which departed long ago. Why should we not, they can further argue,
learn from experience in our political thinking? Did not Q«dâ Abë Bakr B«qil«nâ
drop the condition of Qarshâyat in the Khalâfah in view of the facts
of experience, i.e. the political fall of the Quraish and their consequent inability
to rule the world of Islam? Centuries ago Ibn Khaldën, who personally believed
in the condition of Qarshâyat in the Khali`fah, argued much in the same
way. Since the power of the Quraish, he says, has gone, there is no alternative
but to accept the most powerful man as Ima`m in the country where he happens
to be powerful. Thus Ibn Khaldën, realizing the hard logic of facts, suggests
a view which may be regarded as the first dim vision of an International Islam
fairly in sight today. Such is the attitude of the modern Turk, inspired as
he is by the realities of experience, and not by the scholastic reasoning of
jurists who lived and thought under different conditions of life.
To my mind
these arguments, if rightly appreciated, indicate the birth of an International
ideal which, though forming the very essence of Islam, has been hitherto over-shadowed
or rather displaced by Arabian Imperialism of the earlier centuries of Islam.
This new ideal is clearly reflected in the work of the great nationalist poet
Êiy« whose songs, inspired by the philosophy of Auguste Comte, have done a great
deal in shaping the present thought of Turkey. I reproduce the substance of
one of his poems from Professor Fischer’s German translation:
In order
to create a really effective political unity of Islam, all Muslim countries
must first become independent: and then in their totality they should range
themselves under one Caliph. Is such a thing possible at the present moment?
If not today, one must wait. In the meantime the Caliph must reduce his own
house to order and lay the foundations of a workable modern State.
‘In
the International world the weak find no sympathy; power alone deserves respect.’25
These lines
clearly indicate the trend of modern Islam. For the present every Muslim nation
must sink into her own deeper self, temporarily focus her vision on herself
alone, until all are strong and powerful to form a living family of republics.
A true and living unity, according to the nationalist thinkers, is not so easy
as to be achieved by a merely symbolical overlordship. It is truly manifested
in a multiplicity of free independent units whose racial rivalries are adjusted
and harmonized by the unifying bond of a common spiritual aspiration. It seems
to me that God is slowly bringing home to us the truth that Islam is neither
Nationalism nor Imperialism but a League of Nations which recognizes artificial
boundaries and racial distinctions for facility of reference only,26
and not for restricting the social horizon of its members.
From the
same poet the following passage from a poem called ‘Religion and Science’
will throw some further light on the general religious outlook which is being
gradually shaped in the world of Islam today:
"Who
were the first spiritual leaders of mankind? Without doubt the prophets and
holy men. In every period religion has led philosophy; From it alone morality
and art receive light. But then religion grows weak, and loses her original
ardour! Holy men disappear, and spiritual leadership becomes, in name, the heritage
of the Doctors of Law! The leading star of the Doctors of Law is tradition;
They drag religion with force on this track; but philosophy says: ‘My leading
star is reason: you go right, I go left."
‘Both
religion and philosophy claim the soul of man and draw it on either side!’
‘When
this struggle is going on pregnant experience delivers up positive science,
and this young leader of thought says, "Tradition is history and Reason
is the method of history! Both interpret and desire to reach the same indefinable
something!"
‘But
what is this something?’
‘Is it a spiritualized heart?’
‘If
so, then take my last word - Religion is positive science, the purpose of which
is to spiritualize the heart of man!’27
It is clear
from these lines how beautifully the poet has adopted the Comtian idea of the
three stages of man’s intellectual development, i.e. theological, metaphysical
and scientific - to the religious outlook of Islam. And the view of religion
embodied in these lines determines the poet’s attitude towards the position
of Arabic in the educational system of Turkey. He says:
‘The
land where the call to prayer resounds in Turkish; where those who pray understand
the meaning of their religion; the land where the Qur’«n is learnt in Turkish;
where every man, big or small, knows full well the command of God; O! Son of
Turkey! that land is thy fatherland!’28
If the aim
of religion is the spiritualization of the heart, then it must penetrate the
soul of man, and it can best penetrate the inner man, according to the poet,
only if its spiritualizing ideas are clothed in his mother tongue. Most people
in India will condemn this displacement of Arabic by Turkish. For reasons which
will appear later the poet’s Ijtih«d is open to grave objections,
but it must be admitted that the reform suggested by him is not without a parallel
in the past history of Islam. We find that when Muhammad Ibn Tëmart - the Mahdi
of Muslim Spain - who was Berber by nationality, came to power, and established
the pontifical rule of the MuwaÁÁidën, he ordered for the sake of the illiterate
Berbers, that the Qur’«n should be translated and read in the Berber language;
that the call to prayer should be given in Berber;29 and that all
the functionaries of the Church must know the Berber language.
In another
passage the poet gives his ideal of womanhood. In his zeal for the equality
of man and woman he wishes to see radical changes in the family law of Islam
as it is understood and practised today:
‘There
is the woman, my mother, my sister, or my daughter; it is she who calls up the
most sacred emotions from the depths of my life! There is my beloved, my sun,
my moon and my star; it is she who makes me understand the poetry of life! How
could the Holy Law of God regard these beautiful creatures as despicable beings?
Surely there is an error in the interpretation of the Qur’«n by the learned?30
‘The
foundation of the nation and the state is the family!’
‘As long as the full worth of the woman is not realized, national life
remains incomplete.’
‘The upbringing of the family must correspond with justice;’
‘Therefore equality is necessary in three things - in divorce, in separation,
and in inheritance.’
‘As long as the woman is counted half the man as regards inheritance
and one-fourth of man in matrimony, neither the family nor the country will
be elevated. For other rights we have opened national courts of justice;’
‘he family, on the other hand, we have left in the hands of schools.’
I do not know why we have left the woman in the lurch?
Does she not work for the land? Or, will she turn her needle into a sharp
bayonet to tear off her rights from our hands through a revolution?31
The truth
is that among the Muslim nations of today, Turkey alone has shaken off its dogmatic
slumber, and attained to self-consciousness. She alone has claimed her right
of intellectual freedom; she alone has passed from the ideal to the real - a
transition which entails keen intellectual and moral struggle. To her the growing
complexities of a mobile and broadening life are sure to bring new situations
suggesting new points of view, and necessitating fresh interpretations of principles
which are only of an academic interest to a people who have never experienced
the joy of spiritual expansion. It is, I think, the English thinker Hobbes who
makes this acute observation that to have a succession of identical thoughts
and feelings is to have no thoughts and feelings at all. Such is the lot of
most Muslim countries today. They are mechanically repeating old values, whereas
the Turk is on the way to creating new values. He has passed through great experiences
which have revealed his deeper self to him. In him life has begun to move, change,
and amplify, giving birth to new desires, bringing new difficulties and suggesting
new interpretations. The question which confronts him today, and which is likely
to confront other Muslim countries in the near future is whether the Law of
Islam is capable of evolution - a question which will require great intellectual
effort, and is sure to be answered in the affirmative, provided the world of
Islam approaches it in the spirit of ‘Umar - the first critical and independent
mind in Islam who, at the last moments of the Prophet, had the moral courage
to utter these remarkable words: ‘The Book of God is sufficient for us.’32
We heartily
welcome the liberal movement in modern Islam, but it must also be admitted that
the appearance of liberal ideas in Islam constitutes also the most critical
moment in the history of Islam. Liberalism has a tendency to act as a force
of disintegration, and the race-idea which appears to be working in modern Islam
with greater force than ever may ultimately wipe off the broad human outlook
which Muslim people have imbibed from their religion. Further, our religious
and political reformers in their zeal for liberalism may overstep the proper
limits of reform in the absence of check on their youthful fervour. We are today
passing through a period similar to that of the Protestant revolution in Europe,
and the lesson which the rise and outcome of Luther’s movement teaches
should not be lost on us. A careful reading of history shows that the Reformation
was essentially a political movement, and the net result of it in Europe was
a gradual displacement of the universal ethics of Christianity by systems of
national ethics.33 The result of this tendency we have seen with
our own eyes in the Great European War which, far from bringing any workable
synthesis of the two opposing systems of ethics, has made the European situation
still more intolerable. It is the duty of the leaders of the world of Islam
today to understand the real meaning of what has happened in Europe, and then
to move forward with self-control and a clear insight into the ultimate aims
of Islam as a social polity.
I have given
you some idea of the history and working of Ijtih«d in modern Islam.
I now proceed to see whether the history and structure of the Law of Islam indicate
the possibility of any fresh interpretation of its principles. In other words,
the question that I want to raise is - Is the Law of Islam capable of evolution?
Horten, Professor of Semitic Philology at the University of Bonn, raises the
same question in connexion with the Philosophy and Theology of Islam. Reviewing
the work of Muslim thinkers in the sphere of purely religious thought he points
out that the history of Islam may aptly be described as a gradual interaction,
harmony, and mutual deepening of two distinct forces, i.e. the element of Aryan
culture and knowledge on the one hand, and a Semitic religion on the other.
The Muslim has always adjusted his religious outlook to the elements of culture
which he assimilated from the peoples that surrounded him. From 800 to 1100,
says Horten, not less than one hundred systems of theology appeared in Islam,
a fact which bears ample testimony to the elasticity of Islamic thought as well
as to the ceaseless activity of our early thinkers. Thus, in view of the revelations
of a deeper study of Muslim literature and thought, this living European Orientalist
has been driven to the following conclusion:
The spirit
of Islam is so broad that it is practically boundless. With the exception of
atheistic ideas alone it has assimilated all the attainable ideas of surrounding
peoples, and given them its own peculiar direction of development.’
The assimilative
spirit of Islam is even more manifest in the sphere of law. Says Professor Hurgronje
- the Dutch critic of Islam:
When we
read the history of the development of Mohammadan Law we find that, on the one
hand, the doctors of every age, on the slightest stimulus, condemn one another
to the point of mutual accusations of heresy; and, on the other hand, the very
same people, with greater and greater unity of purpose, try to reconcile the
similar quarrels of their predecessors.’
These views
of modern European critics of Islam make it perfectly clear that, with the return
of new life, the inner catholicity of the spirit of Islam is bound to work itself
out in spite of the rigorous conservatism of our doctors. And I have no doubt
that a deeper study of the enormous legal literature of Islam is sure to rid
the modern critic of the superficial opinion that the Law of Islam is stationary
and incapable of development. Unfortunately, the conservative Muslim public
of this country is not yet quite ready for a critical discussion of Fiqh,
which, if undertaken, is likely to displease most people, and raise sectarian
controversies; yet I venture to offer a few remarks on the point before us.
1. In the
first place, we should bear in mind that from the earliest times practically
up to the rise of the Abbasids, there was no written law of Islam apart from
the Qur’«n.
2. Secondly,
it is worthy of note that from about the middle of the first century up to the
beginning of the fourth not less than nineteen schools of law and legal opinion
appeared in Islam.34 This fact alone is sufficient to show how incessantly
our early doctors of law worked in order to meet the necessities of a growing
civilization. With the expansion of conquest and the consequent widening of
the outlook of Islam these early legists had to take a wider view of things,
and to study local conditions of life and habits of new peoples that came within
the fold of Islam. A careful study of the various schools of legal opinion,
in the light of contemporary social and political history, reveals that they
gradually passed from the deductive to the inductive attitude in their efforts
at interpretation.35
3. Thirdly,
when we study the four accepted sources of Muhammadan Law and the controversies
which they invoked, the supposed rigidity of our recognized schools evaporates
and the possibility of a further evolution becomes perfectly clear. Let us briefly
discuss these sources.
(a) The
Qur’«n. The primary source of the Law of Islam is the Qur’«n. The
Qur’«n, however, is not a legal code. Its main purpose, as I have said
before, is to awaken in man the higher consciousness of his relation with God
and the universe.36 No doubt, the Qur’«n does lay down a few
general principles and rules of a legal nature, especially relating to the family37
- the ultimate basis of social life. But why are these rules made part of a
revelation the ultimate aim of which is man’s higher life? The answer to
this question is furnished by the history of Christianity which appeared as
a powerful reaction against the spirit of legality manifested in Judaism. By
setting up an ideal of otherworldliness it no doubt did succeed in spiritualizing
life, but its individualism could see no spiritual value in the complexity of
human social relations. ‘Primitive Christianity’, says Naumann in
his Briefe Ü ber Religion, ‘attached no value to the preservation
of the State, law, organization, production. It simply does not reflect on the
conditions of human society.’ And Naumann concludes: ‘Hence we either
dare to aim at being without a state, and thus throwing ourselves deliberately
into the arms of anarchy, or we decide to possess, alongside of our religious
creed, a political creed as well.’38 Thus the Qur’«n considers
it necessary to unite religion and state, ethics and politics in a single revelation
much in the same way as Plato does in his Republic.
The important
point to note in this connexion, however, is the dynamic outlook of the Qur’«n.
I have fully discussed its origin and history. It is obvious that with such
an outlook the Holy Book of Islam cannot be inimical to the idea of evolution.
Only we should not forget that life is not change, pure and simple. It has within
it elements of conservation also. While enjoying his creative activity, and
always focusing his energies of the discovery of new vistas of life, man has
a feeling of uneasiness in the presence of his own unfoldment. In his forward
movement he cannot help looking back to his past, and faces his own inward expansion
with a certain amount of fear. The spirit of man in its forward movement is
restrained by forces which seem to be working in the opposite direction. This
is only another way of saying that life moves with the weight of its own past
on its back, and that in any view of social change the value and function of
the forces of conservatism cannot be lost sight of. It is with this organic
insight into the essential teaching of the Qur’«n that to approach our
existing institutions. No people can afford to reject their past entirely, for
it is their past that has made their personal identity. And in a society like
Islam the problem of a revision of old institutions becomes still more delicate,
and the responsibility of the reformer assumes a far more serious aspect. Islam
is non-territorial in its character, and its aim is to furnish a model for the
final combination of humanity by drawing its adherents from a variety of mutually
repellent races, and then transforming this atomic aggregate into a people possessing
a self-consciousness of their own. This was not an easy task to accomplish.
Yet Islam, by means of its well-conceived institutions, has succeeded to a very
great extent in creating something like a collective will and conscience in
this heterogeneous mass. In the evolution of such a society even the immutability
of socially harmless rules relating to eating and drinking, purity or impurity,
has a life-value of its own, inasmuch as it tends to give such society a specific
inwardness, and further secures that external and internal uniformity which
counteracts the forces of heterogeneity always latent in a society of a composite
character. The critic of these institutions must, therefore, try to secure,
before he undertakes to handle them, a clear insight into the ultimate significance
of the social experiment embodied in Islam. He must look at their structure,
not from the standpoint of social advantage or disadvantage to this or that
country, but from the point of view of the larger purpose which is being gradually
worked out in the life of mankind as a whole.
Turning
now to the groundwork of legal principles in the Qur’«n, it is perfectly
clear that far from leaving no scope for human thought and legislative activity
the intensive breadth of these principles virtually acts as an awakener of human
thought. Our early doctors of law taking their clue mainly from this groundwork
evolved a number of legal systems; and the student of Muhammadan history knows
very well that nearly half the triumphs of Islam as a social and political power
were due to the legal acuteness of these doctors. ‘Next to the Romans’,
says von Kremer, ‘there is no other nation besides the Arabs which could
call its own a system of law so carefully worked out.’ But with all their
comprehensiveness these systems are after all individual interpretations, and
as such cannot claim any finality. I know the ‘Ulem« of Islam claim
finality for the popular schools of Muhammadan Law, though they never found
it possible to deny the theoretical possibility of a complete Ijtih«d.
I have tried to explain the causes which, in my opinion, determined this attitude
of the ‘Ulem«; but since things have changed and the world of Islam
is confronted and affected today by new forces set free by the extraordinary
development of human thought in all its directions, I see no reason why this
attitude should be maintained any longer. Did the founders of our schools ever
claim finality for their reasonings and interpretations? Never. The claim of
the present generation of Muslim liberals to reinterpret the foundational legal
principles, in the light of their own experience and the altered conditions
of modern life is, in my opinion, perfectly justified. The teaching of the Qur’«n
that life is a process of progressive creation necessitates that each generation,
guided but unhampered by the work of its predecessors, should be permitted to
solve its own problems.
You will,
I think, remind me here of the Turkish poet Êiy« whom I quoted a moment ago,
and ask whether the equality of man and woman demanded by him, equality, that
is to say, in point of divorce, separation, and inheritance, is possible according
to Muhammadan Law. I do not know whether the awakening of women in Turkey has
created demands which cannot be met with without a fresh interpretation of foundational
principles. In the Punjab, as everybody knows, there have been cases in which
Muslim women wishing to get rid of undesirable husbands have been driven to
apostasy.39 Nothing could be more distant from the aims of a missionary
religion. The Law of Islam, says the great Spanish jurist Im«m Sh«tibâin his
al-Muwafiq«t, aims at protecting five things - Dân, Nafs, ‘Aql,
M«l, and Nasl.40 Applying this test I venture to ask:
‘Does the working of the rule relating to apostasy, as laid down in the
Hed«yah tend to protect the interests of the Faith in this country?’41
In view of the intense conservatism of the Muslims of India, Indian judges cannot
but stick to what are called standard works. The result is that while the peoples
are moving the law remains stationary.
With regard
to the Turkish poet’s demand, I am afraid he does not seem to know much
about the family law of Islam. Nor does he seem to understand the economic significance
of the Quranic rule of inheritance.42 Marriage, according to Muhammadan
Law, is a civil contract.43 The wife at the time of marriage is at
liberty to get the husband’s power of divorce delegated to her on stated
conditions, and thus secure equality of divorce with her husband. The reform
suggested by the poet relating to the rule of inheritance is based on a misunderstanding.
From the inequality of their legal shares it must not be supposed that the rule
assumes the superiority of males over females. Such an assumption would be contrary
to the spirit of Islam. The Qur’«n says:
And for
women are rights over men similar to those for men over women’ (2:228).
The share
of the daughter is determined not by any inferiority inherent in her, but in
view of her economic opportunities, and the place she occupies in the social
structure of which she is a part and parcel. Further, according to the poet’s
own theory of society, the rule of inheritance must be regarded not as an isolated
factor in the distribution of wealth, but as one factor among others working
together for the same end. While the daughter, according to Muhammadan Law,
is held to be full owner of the property given to her by both the father and
the husband at the time of her marriage; while, further, she absolutely owns
her dower-money which may be prompt or deferred according to her own choice,
and in lieu of which she can hold possession of the whole of her husband’s
property till payment, the responsibility of maintaining her throughout her
life is wholly thrown on the husband. If you judge the working of the rule of
inheritance from this point of view, you will find that there is no material
difference between the economic position of sons and daughters, and it is really
by this apparent inequality of their legal shares that the law secures the equality
demanded by the Turkish poet. The truth is that the principles underlying the
Quranic law of inheritance - this supremely original branch of Muhammadan Law
as von Kremer describes it - have not yet received from Muslim lawyers the attention
they deserve.44 Modern society with its bitter class-struggles ought
to set us thinking; and if we study our laws in reference to the impending revolution
in modern economic life, we are likely to discover, in the foundational principles,
hitherto unrevealed aspects which we can work out with a renewed faith in the
wisdom of these principles.
(b) The
Àadâth. The second great source of Muhammadan Law is the traditions of the Holy
Prophet. These have been the subject of great discussion both in ancient and
modern times. Among their modern critics Professor Goldziher has subjected them
to a searching examination in the light of modern canons of historical criticism,
and arrives at the conclusion that they are, on the whole, untrustworthy.45
Another European writer, after examining the Muslim methods of determining the
genuineness of a tradition, and pointing out the theoretical possibilities of
error, arrives at the following conclusion:
‘It
must be said in conclusion that the preceding considerations represent only
theoretical possibilities and that the question whether and how far these possibilities
have become actualities is largely a matter of how far the actual circumstances
offered inducements for making use of the possibilities. Doubtless, the latter,
relatively speaking, were few and affected only a small proportion of the entire
Sunnah. It may therefore be said that . . . for the most part the collections
of Sunnah considered by the Moslems as canonical are genuine records of the
rise and early growth of Islam’ (Mohammedan Theories of Finance).46
For our
present purposes, however, we must distinguish traditions of a purely legal
import from those which are of a non-legal character. With regard to the former,
there arises a very important question as to how far they embody the pre-Islamic
usages of Arabia which were in some cases left intact, and in others modified
by the Prophet. It is difficult to make this discovery, for our early writers
do not always refer to pre-Islamic usages. Nor is it possible to discover that
usages, left intact by express or tacit approval of the Prophet, were intended
to be universal in their application. Sh«h WalâAll«h has a very illuminating
discussion on the point. I reproduce here the substance of his view. The prophetic
method of teaching, according to Sh«h WalâAll«h, is that, generally speaking,
the law revealed by a prophet takes especial notice of the habits, ways, and
peculiarities of the people to whom he is specifically sent. The prophet who
aims at all-embracing principles, however, can neither reveal different principles
for different peoples, nor leaves them to work out their own rules of conduct.
His method is to train one particular people, and to use them as a nucleus for
the building up of a universal Sharâ‘ah. In doing so he accentuates the
principles underlying the social life of all mankind, and applies them to concrete
cases in the light of the specific habits of the people immediately before him.
The Sharâ‘ah values (AÁk«m) resulting from this application (e.g. rules
relating to penalties for crimes) are in a sense specific to that people; and
since their observance is not an end in itself they cannot be strictly enforced
in the case of future generations.47 It was perhaps in view of this
that Abë Àanâfah, who had, a keen insight into the universal character of Islam,
made practically no use of these traditions. The fact that he introduced the
principle of IstiÁs«n, i.e. juristic preference, which necessitates a careful
study of actual conditions in legal thinking, throws further light on the motives
which determined his attitude towards this source of Muhammadan Law. It is said
that Abë Àanâfah made no use of traditions because there were no regular collections
in his day. In the first place, it is not true to say that there were no collections
in his day, as the collections of ‘Abd al-M«lik and Zuhrâ were made not
less than thirty years before the death of Abë Àanâfah. But even if we suppose
that these collections never reached him, or that they did not contain traditions
of a legal import, Abë Àanâfah, like M«lik and AÁmad Ibn Àanbal after him, could
have easily made his own collection if he had deemed such a thing necessary.
On the whole, then, the attitude of Abë Àanâfah towards the traditions of a
purely legal import is to my mind perfectly sound; and if modern Liberalism
considers it safer not to make any indiscriminate use of them as a source of
law, it will be only following one of the greatest exponents of Muhammadan Law
in Sunni Islam. It is, however, impossible to deny the fact that the traditionists,
by insisting on the value of the concrete case as against the tendency to abstract
thinking in law, have done the greatest service to the Law of Islam. And a further
intelligent study of the literature of traditions, if used as indicative of
the spirit in which the Prophet himself interpreted his Revelation, may still
be of great help in understanding the life-value of the legal principles enunciated
in the Qur’«n. A complete grasp of their life-value alone can equip us
in our endeavour to reinterpret the foundational principles.
(c) The
Ijm«`’. The third source of Muhammadan Law is Ijm«’
which is, in my opinion, perhaps the most important legal notion in Islam. It
is, however, strange that this important notion, while invoking great academic
discussions in early Islam, remained practically a mere idea, and rarely assumed
the form of a permanent institution in any Muhammadan country. Possibly its
transformation into a permanent legislative institution was contrary to the
political interests of the kind of absolute monarchy that grew up in Islam immediately
after the fourth Caliph. It was, I think, favourable to the interest of the
Umayyad and the Abbasid Caliphs to leave the power of Ijtih«d to individual
Mujtahids rather than encourage the formation of a permanent assembly
which might become too powerful for them. It is, however, extremely satisfactory
to note that the pressure of new world-forces and the political experience of
European nations are impressing on the mind of modern Islam the value and possibilities
of the idea of Ijm«’. The growth of republican spirit and the gradual
formation of legislative assemblies in Muslim lands constitute a great step
in advance. The transfer of the power of Ijtih«d from individual representatives
of schools to a Muslim legislative assembly which, in view of the growth of
opposing sects, is the only possible form Ijm«’ can take in modern
times, will secure contributions to legal discussion from laymen who happen
to possess a keen insight into affairs. In this way alone can we stir into activity
the dormant spirit of life in our legal system, and give it an evolutionary
outlook. In India, however, difficulties are likely to arise for it is doubtful
whether a non-Muslim legislative assembly can exercise the power of Ijtih«d.
But there
are one or two questions which must be raised and answered in regard to the
Ijm«’. Can the Ijm«’ repeal the Qur’«n? It is unnecessary
to raise this question before a Muslim audience, but I consider it necessary
to do so in view of a very misleading statement by a European critic in a book
called Mohammedan Theories of Finance - published by the Columbia University.
The author of this book says, without citing any authority, that according to
some Hanafâ and Mu‘tazilah writers the Ijm«’ can repeal the
Qur’«n.48 There is not the slightest justification for such
a statement in the legal literature of Islam. Not even a tradition of the Prophet
can have any such effect. It seems to me that the author is misled by the word
Naskh in the writings of our early doctors to whom, as Im«m Sh«Çibâë points
out in al-Muwaffiq«t, vol. iii, p. 65, this word, when used in discussions relating
to the Ijm«’ of the companions, meant only the power to extend or
limit the application of a Quranic rule of law, and not the power to repeal
or supersede it by another rule of law. And even in the exercise of this power
the legal theory, as ‘Amâdâ- a Sh«fi‘â doctor of law who died about
the middle of the seventh century, and whose work is recently published in Egypt
- tells us, is that the companions must have been in possession of a Sharâ‘ah
value (Àukm) entitling them to such a limitation or extension.49
But supposing
the companions have unanimously decided a certain point, the further question
is whether later generations are bound by their decision. Shauk«nâ has fully
discussed this point, and cited the views held by writers belonging to different
schools.50 I think it is necessary in this connexion to discriminate
between a decision relating to a question of fact and the one relating to a
question of law. In the former case, as for instance, when the question arose
whether the two small Sërahs known as Mu‘awwidhat«n 51
formed part of the Qur’«n or not, and the companions unanimously decided
that they did, we are bound by their decision, obviously because the companions
alone were in a position to know the fact. In the latter case the question is
one of interpretation only, and I venture to think, on the authority of Karkhâ,
that later generations are not bound by the decision of the companions. Says
Karkhâ: ‘The Sunnah of the companions is binding in matters which cannot
be cleared up by Qiy«s, but it is not so in matters which can be established
by Qiy«s.’52
One more
question may be asked as to the legislative activity of a modern Muslim assembly
which must consist, at least for the present, mostly of men possessing no knowledge
of the subtleties of Muhammadan Law. Such an assembly may make grave mistakes
in their interpretation of law. How can we exclude or at least reduce the possibilities
of erroneous interpretation? The Persian constitution of 1906 provided a separate
ecclesiastical committee of ‘Ulem« - ‘conversant with the affairs
of the world’ - having power to supervise the legislative activity of the
Mejlis. This, in my opinion, dangerous arrangement is probably necessary
in view of the Persian constitutional theory. According to that theory, I believe,
the king is a mere custodian of the realm which really belongs to the Absent
Im«m. The ‘Ulem«, as representatives of the Im«m,
consider themselves entitled to supervise the whole life of the community, though
I fail to understand how, in the absence of an apostolic succession, they establish
their claim to represent the Im«m. But whatever may be the Persian constitutional
theory, the arrangement is not free from danger, and may be tried, if at all,
only as a temporary measure in Sunnâ countries.53 The ‘Ulem«
should form a vital part of a Muslim legislative assembly helping and guiding
free discussion on questions relating to law. The only effective remedy for
the possibilities of erroneous interpretations is to reform the present system
of legal education in Muhammadan countries, to extend its sphere, and to combine
it with an intelligent study of modern jurisprudence.54
(d) The
Qiy«s. The fourth basis of Fiqh is Qiy«s, i.e. the use
of analogical reasoning in legislation. In view of different social and agricultural
conditions prevailing in the countries conquered by Islam, the school of Abë
Àanâfah seem to have found, on the whole, little or no guidance from the precedents
recorded in the literature of traditions. The only alternative open to them
was to resort to speculative reason in their interpretations. The application
of Aristotelian logic, however, though suggested by the discovery of new conditions
in Iraq, was likely to prove exceedingly harmful in the preliminary stages of
legal development. The intricate behaviour of life cannot be subjected to hard
and fast rules logically deducible from certain general notions. Yet, looked
at through the spectacles of Aristotle’s logic, it appears to be a mechanism
pure and simple with no internal principle of movement. Thus, the school of
Abë Àanâfah tended to ignore the creative freedom and arbitrariness of life,
and hoped to build a logically perfect legal system on the lines of pure reason.
The legists of Àij«z, however, true to the practical genius of their race, raised
strong protests against the scholastic subtleties of the legalists of Iraq,
and their tendency to imagine unreal cases which they rightly thought would
turn the Law of Islam into a kind of lifeless mechanism. These bitter controversies
among the early doctors of Islam led to a critical definition of the limitations,
conditions, and correctives of Qiy«s which, though originally appeared
as a mere disguise for Mujtahid’s personal opinion, eventually became
a source of life and movement in the Law of Islam. The spirit of the acute criticism
of M«lik and Sh«fi‘â on Abë Àanâfah’s principle of Qiy«s, as
a source of law, constitutes really an effective Semitic restraint on the Aryan
tendency to seize the abstract in preference to the concrete, to enjoy the idea
rather than the event. This was really a controversy between the advocates of
deductive and inductive methods in legal research. The legists of Iraq originally
emphasized the eternal aspect of the ‘notion’, while those of Àij«z
laid stress on its temporal aspect. The latter, however, did not see the full
significance of their own position, and their instinctive partiality to the
legal tradition of Àij«z narrowed their vision to the ‘precedents’
that had actually happened in the days of the Prophet and his companions. No
doubt they recognized the value of the concrete, but at the same time they eternalized
it, rarely resorting to Qiy«s based on the study of the concrete as such.
Their criticism of Abë Àanâfah and his school, however, emancipated the concrete
as it were, and brought out the necessity of observing the actual movement and
variety of life in the interpretation of juristic principles. Thus the school
of Abë Àanâfah which fully assimilated the results of this controversy is absolutely
free in its essential principle and possesses much greater power of creative
adaptation than any other school of Muhammadan Law. But, contrary to the spirit
of his own school, the modern Hanafâ legist has eternalized the interpretations
of the founder or his immediate followers much in the same way as the early
critics of Abë Àanâfah eternalized the decisions given on concrete cases. Properly
understood and applied, the essential principle of this school, i.e. Qiy«s,
as Sh«fi‘â rightly says, is only another name for Ijtih«d 55
which, within the limits of the revealed texts, is absolutely free; and its
importance as a principle can be seen from the fact that, according to most
of the doctors, as Q«dâ Shauk«nâ tells us, it was permitted even in the lifetime
of the Holy Prophet.56 The closing of the door of Ijtih«d
is pure fiction suggested partly by the crystallization of legal thought in
Islam, and partly by that intellectual laziness which, especially in the period
of spiritual decay, turns great thinkers into idols. If some of the later doctors
have upheld this fiction, modern Islam is not bound by this voluntary surrender
of intellectual independence. Zarkashâ writing in the eighth century of the
Hijrah rightly observes:
‘If
the upholders of this fiction mean that the previous writers had more facilities,
while the later writers had more difficulties, in their way, it is, nonsense;
for it does not require much understanding to see that Ijtih«d for later
doctors is easier than for the earlier doctors. Indeed the commentaries on the
Kor«n and sunnah have been compiled and multiplied to such an extent
that the mujtahid of today has more material for interpretation than he needs’.
57
This brief
discussion, I hope, will make it clear to you that neither in the foundational
principles nor in the structure of our systems, as we find them today, is there
anything to justify the present attitude. Equipped with penetrative thought
and fresh experience the world of Islam should courageously proceed to the work
of reconstruction before them. This work of reconstruction, however, has a far
more serious aspect than mere adjustment to modern conditions of life. The Great
European War bringing in its wake the awakening on Turkey - the element of stability
in the world of Islam - as a French writer has recently described her, and the
new economic experiment tried in the neighbourhood of Muslim Asia, must open
our eyes to the inner meaning and destiny of Islam.58 Humanity needs
three things today - a spiritual interpretation of the universe, spiritual emancipation
of the individual, and basic principles of a universal import directing the
evolution of human society on a spiritual basis. Modern Europe has, no doubt,
built idealistic systems on these lines, but experience shows that truth revealed
through pure reason is incapable of bringing that fire of living conviction
which personal revelation alone can bring. This is the reason why pure thought
has so little influenced men, while religion has always elevated individuals,
and transformed whole societies. The idealism of Europe never became a living
factor in her life, and the result is a perverted ego seeking itself through
mutually intolerant democracies whose sole function is to exploit the poor in
the interest of the rich. Believe me, Europe today is the greatest hindrance
in the way of man’s ethical advancement. The Muslim, on the other hand,
is in possession of these ultimate ideas of the basis of a revelation, which,
speaking from the inmost depths of life, internalizes its own apparent externality.
With him the spiritual basis of life is a matter of conviction for which even
the least enlightened man among us can easily lay down his life; and in view
of the basic idea of Islam that there can be no further revelation binding on
man, we ought to be spiritually one of the most emancipated peoples on earth.
Early Muslims emerging out of the spiritual slavery of pre-Islamic Asia were
not in a position to realize the true significance of this basic idea. Let the
Muslim of today appreciate his position, reconstruct his social life in the
light of ultimate principles, and evolve, out of the hitherto partially revealed
purpose of Islam, that spiritual democracy which is the ultimate aim of Islam.59
[See
Notes]
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