“Faith” is a controversial word for me. In the current global culture, “faith” is thrown in with “emotions”, “superstition” and “delusion”. Belief in God nowadays is somehow tantamount to belief in UFO’s and alien abductions, while atheism has rushed to align itself with reason, logic and science. Frustrated, I examine my belief over and over and find it is consistent with everything I know about logic and science. So, where is the problem? Are believers the victims of false propaganda spread forth by other groups? Or are we perhaps responsible for our own unhappy position?

“It’s nothing more than a bunch of common sense,” is how the Qur’an was criticized by some. The first thing you get when you open this book of common sense is a question: are you really interested in finding the truth? Or do you just want to prove you’re right? Because guidance is only for the muttaqeen—those who are God-conscious. Those who contemplate their surroundings and do not simply go through life putting off all the important questions.

There is a desperate need for proper dialogue between believers and atheists, and a lot of hate and anger on both sides, but my bitter conclusion was this: believers are at least as much to blame as anyone else for the stigma attached to belief, if not more.

In the general case, the atheist would pose—perhaps with good intentions—many false arguments against the existence of God. Sometimes they are nice about it, and sometimes not so much so. The believer would either take it personally, or they would give an emotional, dramatic response, citing their own beliefs and their own book, and possibly advising the atheist to revise their position before they meet God and go to hell. And in the end, the most interesting questions are drowned out by a bunch of people shouting at each other in the comments section on YouTube.

This is not to say that all believers are nonsensical, or that all atheists are condescending, but some of them certainly are, and the worst groups are usually the loudest.

Perhaps the problem lies in that the believer has come to abandon the rational, and cling more and more to the emotional—to rituals versus understanding, culture and tradition versus teachings. The emotional aspect of faith is necessary, but it is a natural outcome of having faith, not a way to achieve faith. It is a personal matter that you cannot extend to others. You cannot give someone else how you feel; you can give them evidence, proof, rational arguments.

You would think Muslims would be immune to this kind of hot-headedness. After all, the Qur’an is practically a school for rational dialogue. It cites every argument against the existence of God and gives an intelligent reply, and responds to arguments from people of the book either using logic or their very own books.

And yet, the same person who would boast of the Qur’an’s emphasis on logic and reasoning would feel offended by the suggestion that belief is a matter of the mind and not the heart. They prefer to think of “guidance” as some spark of inspiration from God, and not as the natural result you get when you use your head to find the truth. The same person who would insist that the Qur’an is a book of scientific breakthroughs would be the first one to brush aside scientific evidence as soon as it appears to contradict the Qur’an, like we jump to defend creationism against evolution, as if it were faith’s most evil contender, and not a scientific theory corroborated by evidence.

A Muslim does not have “faith”; they have “belief”. The Arabic word for that is iman, stemming from the root amn, meaning “to secure or confirm”. You secure something by continuously checking up on it, you confirm something through evidence. A Muslim’s belief is something they have confirmed by facts, and secured against counter-arguments through logic and reason. It is not a gut feeling or some whisper from the unseen.

This is not to pick on Muslims alone, but in this kind of dilemma where more than one side is to blame, someone has to concede first. With great power comes great responsibility, and so the responsibility lies on us to recognize our faults and start making some changes.

This may not be easy to hear or admit to, but we have to ask ourselves whether we are sincerely interested in finding the truth, or do we just want to be right? If we want to belong to the first group, we have to be willing to revise our belief without emotion, to determine which elements of it are confirmed by the Qur’an, in which elements we have a high degree of confidence due to hadith (which are interpretations that may or may not be true that we learned to take for granted over the years), and which elements have no foundation at all but put belief in an awkward position where it does not belong.

Originally published in December 2009

Introduction

I am tired of the pictures forwarded to me in email and of the videos posted on Facebook, Youtube, and numerous other mediums of internet media displaying a gross cornucopia of atrocities against Muslims across the globe. There’s the visibly overwhelmed Muslim woman getting her hijab (headscarf) yanked off, the Muslim being malevolently run over by a car repeatedly, and the countless dead Muslim babies buried in rubble. I loathe it all. It has become a sickness amongst Muslims to find some perverted sense of satisfaction in displaying to the world, “Look! I am the victim!” It is as if our era of glory was an opiate, and now we use self-victimization to ease the withdrawal. Some have identified that self-empowerment, rather than self-victimization, is more constructive. Yet, they still just don’t get it.

Peruse any variety of Muslim media sources and one will find no shortage of laudatory narratives on how the Muslims pioneered modern technology while Europe languished in the “Dark Ages.” Hearing that, a 16 year old European Muslim drop-out can beam with pride and feel that he, himself, bested the magnificence of the monolithic “West.” The Frenchman is no better than he, for his ancestors gave the world Algebra… albeit 1,250 years ago.

This leads to the oft-posited, and often frustrating, question: How do we get those glory days back? While patting themselves on the back for those long dead laurels, many Muslim proselytes and those inebriated by their opiates often miss is that this era of Muslim ingenuity was not founded at the hands of those who thirsted for the blood of their enemies. It was founded by a people who would be more concerned with the scientific study of apes and pigs, than calling their non-Muslim enemies the “descendants of apes and pigs.” It was founded by men of loftier priorities and ideals.

How do we get those days back? Perhaps, we should first identify how we lost them in the first place. We should rather ask: Where did we go wrong? My hypothesis is that we have gone backwards in how we view and treat our non-Muslim neighbors. We have regressed far behind the noble principles of coexistence dictated to us by the Qur’an, which were conveyed and displayed to us by our exemplary Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace be upon him). All cases of greatness in Islamic history will also yield remarkable examples of compassion and benevolence towards the Muslims’ non-Muslim neighbors.

Articles about the Muslim world’s contributions to science will be rife with names like al-Khwarizmi and al-Biruni. Muhammad bin Musa al-Khwarizmi and Abu Rayhan al-Biruni were both Persians of ancient Khwarezm who are iconic of the Muslim world’s contributions to science. The Prophet Muhammadﷺ had foretold that great knowledge was to come from the Persians ¹ to whom the baton of Islamic learning quickly passed. Yet, aside from the facts that both were devout and learned Sunni Muslims and polymaths, excelling in a jaw-dropping variety of scientific disciplines, they also strove to achieve a better understanding of the non-Muslims they encountered.

Abu `Abdillah Muhammad bin Musa Al-Khwarizmi (780-850 CE) penned his Treatise on the Extraction of the Jewish History,² which became the reference point for the later Jewish scholar Rabbi Moshe ben Maimon, popularly known as Maimonides, in formulating the Hebrew Calendar which Jews all over the world use to this day. His work in this regard, and influence from al-Khwarizmi, is contained in his book Sefr Mishneh Torah.³ It is also worthy to note that Maimonides’ name is remembered today because of the freedom and liberty he enjoyed living under his Spanish and African Muslim rulers. Another famous Jewish scholar who used the works of al-Khwarizmi to codify the Hebrew calendar as it is known today was Abraham ibn Ezra,⁴ who in the process went as far as to fully translate Ibn al-Muthanna’s commentary of al-Khwarizmi’s Tables of Astronomy into Hebrew.

Another great Muslim genius who lived one hundred years after al-Khwarizmi was, likewise, a tremendous influence on Jewish scholars such as Maimonides and countless others from various non-Muslim demographics. He was Abu al-Rayhan Muhammad bin Ahmad Al-Biruni (973-1048 CE). Al-Biruni became a patron of the medieval Turkic Sultan of Khorasan, Mahmud bin Sebuktekin of Ghazni, and accompanied him during his exploits into India. Rather than immersing himself in all the glory, valor and riches, al-Biruni immersed himself into the non-Muslim population’s culture, language and tradition. He learned Sanskrit to such a high level that the Hindu clergy bequeathed him with the title Vidyasagar meaning “Ocean of Learning.”⁵ Al-Biruni did not limit his studies to their culture, but also became versed to a scholarly degree in Hinduism. He is, to this day, known as the de facto founder of religious anthropology. He contributed not only to the Jewish calendars but also to a greater understanding of the calendar systems of all religions and civilizations in his work The Surviving Monuments of Past Centuries.⁶

Some historians have sought to remove credit from Islam for the magnanimity and tolerance of these two scholars and many others like them and attribute it instead to the inherent tolerance of the Persians. However, a glance into the tolerance mandated by God in the Qur’an, embodied in the traditions of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, and carried on in the manners of his closest Companions (radiAllahu `anhum – May Allah be pleased with them) may hold some answers.

The Qur’an

Though Muslims are commanded in the Qur’an to call towards the worship of One God without partner, they are also instructed to come to common terms with their non-Muslim neighbors and to refrain from slighting their religious sensibilities in the process. God instructs the Muslims to address the People of the Book: “Say, ‘O People of the Scripture, come to a word that is equitable between us and you – that we will not worship except Allāh and not associate anything with Him and not take one another as lords instead of Allāh.’ But if they turn away, then say, ‘Bear witness that we are Muslims [submitting to Him]’” (3:64). The objective is to come to a mutual understanding. At the end of the day, we have to live with each other much to the chagrin of the extremists on all sides.

Furthermore, God instructs the Muslim believers in the Qur’an, “And do not insult those they invoke other than Allāh, lest they insult Allāh in enmity without knowledge”(6:108). Regarding this verse, the reputable Qur’anic exegete of Basra, Qatadah bin Di`amah, said, “The Muslims used to mock the idols of the non-Muslims, and the non-Muslims would, in turn, mock God. So God revealed the verse, ‘Do not mock those whom they call upon besides Allah…’”⁷ An atmosphere of mockery and derision is not something which God wants to foster between His devotees and those not privileged with a proper understanding of Him. Because the cycle is difficult to break, the Muslims are commanded to never initiate it. The late 13th century Islamic scholar, Ibn Taymiya, says about this verse, “It is known that the polytheists (of pre-Islamic Arabia) loved their pantheon of deities just as they loved Allah (as a part of it). Perhaps, they even loved their deities even more than they loved Allah and this is why they had no problem mocking Allah whenever their pantheon of deities was mocked. Hence, did Allah command, ‘Do not mock the ones they call upon besides Allah, for they will be driven in contempt to mock Allah in return out of ignorance.’”⁸

There is much in common between the three great Abrahamic religions . The Jews and the Christians know full well that “Allah” is the very same name of God, with slight variations, that they find in their sacred texts. The first verse of the first chapter of Genesis, the first book of the Bible, calls God by a direct etymon of this sacred name. ⁹ When Christ was on the cross, he called out to God in the Aramaic etymon, “Allaha!” This was even evidenced in the film The Passion of the Christ (2004). These are not facts unknown to our Jewish and Christian friends, yet none of it will matter when the cycle of derision has been initiated. We must obey God’s command in the Qur’an and not start such divisive conflicts. If we are subjected to it we must respond with what is better as God also instructs in the Qur’an: “And not equal are the good deed and the bad. Repel [evil] by that [deed] which is better; and thereupon the one whom between you and him is enmity [will become] as though he was a devoted friend” (41:34). God really does know His creation as he also says in the Qur’an, “Does He who created not know?” (64:14)

The Prophetic Traditions

Zaid bin Sa`nah was a leading Jewish Rabbi who was a contemporary of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. His story has been authentically documented in the collections of Prophetic traditions, and it is a fine example of how Muslims should live with their non-Muslim neighbors. Rabbi Zaid related his own story to `Abdullah bin Salam, another Rabbi who had embraced Islam, who relates:

“Zaid bin Sa`nah said… Two or three days before the appointed time, the Prophet ﷺ went out for a funeral prayer of a man from the Ansar. With him were Abu Bakr, `Umar and `Uthman and some of his other Companions (ra). When he completed the prayer, he sought to recline against a wall upon which I grabbed a hold of him and gave him a mean-faced stare and held him by shirt and cloak. I said to him, ‘Repay me what is due, O Muhammad! By God, I have not known you folk from the clan of `Abdul Mutalib to be such procrastinators! Perhaps, my impression of you all has been wrong!’ So I looked at `Umar and his two eyes were beset wide on his face like planets! He then struck me with his stare and said, ‘O you enemy of God! Dare you speak to the Messenger of God ﷺ as I have heard and behave as I have seen?! By the One Who has raised him up with the Truth, if Iwere less God-fearing I would have struck off your head with my sword!’ The Messenger of God was looking at `Umar (ra) with serenity and an amiable smile and said, ‘O `Umar, he and I required something other than this from you. You should have instructed me to repay him in a better manner and you should have instructed him to follow up in a better manner. Go to him, O `Umar, and repay him what is due to him and exceed that by 20 extra measure of dates.'”

The narration in al-Bayhaqi’s Sunan ends here, but the narration in al-Tabarani’s Mu`jam goes on to detail the interaction that transpired when `Umar caught up with Rabbi Zaid. As it turned out the Rabbi had been following the Prophet Muhammadﷺ and was testing his behavior in the face of insolence. When the angry `Umar returned to him sober and friendly, he marveled at how the Prophet Muhammadﷺ could change this angry man into the docile character he was now dealing with. Rabbi Zaid embraced Islam and dedicated the rest of his life to its cause until he ultimately met his end at the Battle of Tabuk. He went from a widely reputed Jewish Rabbi to a hero of Islam, not because of any theological debates or polemics, but because of the goodness displayed by the Messenger of God ﷺ.

The Prophet’s Companions and Successors

This tradition of good conduct towards the non-Muslims carried on into the era of the Caliphs who succeeded the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ after his passing. The Fourth Caliph of Islam, `Ali bin Abi Talib, lived in a time when the Persian Empire fell before the feet of the Muslims. He was reported to have actually met with the father of the earliest of the four great Sunni Imams, al-Nu`man bin Thabit, popularly known as Abu Hanifa. Imam Abu Hanifa was from Kabul, Afghanistan,¹⁰ which was largely Zoroastrian prior to the Muslim conquests. Though they had become Muslims, the traditions and cultural practices remained. Imam al-Dhahabi, a highly regarded student of Ibn Taymiyyah, states about Imam Abu Hanifa in his voluminous work on the notables of Islamic history, Siyar A`lam al-Nubala’:

“Nu`man bin Marzban, the father of Thabit,<sup>11</sup> was the one who gifted `Ali bin Abi Talib with Faluda on the day of Nawruz (the Persian New Year). `Ali said, ‘May every day be like Nawruz!’ It was also said, ‘This is done as part of Mehregan (a Persian harvest festival with origins possibly pre-dating Iranian culture).” So he replied, ‘May every day be as Mehregan!” ¹²

`Ali did not belittle their cultural practices, so he took the gift, but subtly hinted that, according to Islam, this day was like any other day. He did not endorse the significance of the day, but he did not revile their cultural practice either. He exercised wisdom. Similarly, the other Companions behaved the same towards the Zoroastrians they encountered. The Prophet’s ﷺ wife `A’isha (ra) instructed the Muslims to avoid meats offered to them as gifts on Nawruz but to feel free to eat from the fruits and vegetables. Yet, was this mostly due to the general ruling regarding the meat of the Zoroastrians and not so much having to do with Nawruz? Mujahid said that in general only fruits and vegetables of the Zoroastrians should be consumed, but nothing else from them.¹³ Their slaughtered meat was largely viewed as unsuitable for consumption by the Muslims.

A Dirham for Thought

It is said that a picture can equal a thousand words and, in this case, hard archaeological evidence can speak volumes. In the time of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, the two great mighty empires whom the Muslims encountered were the Persian Sassanids and the Greco-Roman Byzantines. The Sassanids, at their height, ruled everything between the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. They reigned from 205 CE until they finally met their end when defeated by the Muslims under the 2nd Caliph, `Umar ibn al-Khattab. After the era of the Four Pious Caliphs had passed, parts of the newly conquered Persian domains fell under the rule of the Umayyads, the loyalists of `Abdullah ibn al-Zubayr, and others. Yet, in spite of the turf wars that occurred between the various Muslim factions, one thing remained strikingly in common between them: the respect they showed to their newly conquered subjects. It was a time when all the splendor of the Persian Empire literally fell at the feet of the Muslims. This, like many of the events that transpired immediately after the passing of the Prophet Muhammadﷺ, was foretold by him. He warned the Muslims that, though they will have the power to do what they want over the Persians, they should not plunder them nor get tangled up in the priceless spoils they would acquire. Fortunately, the Companions listened, and those Persian lands are still Muslim today. It might have been different had the Muslims reveled in the riches and pounded the population into serfdom. The harrowing empty mosques of Romania, a land ruled by the Ottomans for hundreds of years yet yielding only a 0.3% of Muslim population today, bear a painful testimony to this.

So how did the Muslims treat their newly conquered Zoroastrian subjects? The story of `Ali ibn Abi Talib’s interaction with the Persian family of Abu Hanifa has already been told. Yet, there is more to be discovered when analyzing the archaeological evidence from the time period in question. One may be shocked to find that there are numerous extant Arab-Sassanid coins throughout the reigns of Uthman ibn `Affan, `Ali bin Abi Talib and Mu`awiyyah ibn Abi Sufyan with busts of Khosrow and the Zoroastrian fire altar.

Similarly, coins were minted during the reign of `Abdullah ibn al-Zubayr, a close Companion of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, in the regions of Persia loyal to him (Sistan) with a bust of Khosrow and Zoroastrian symbols.

There are also instances of Arab-Byzantine coins from the newly conquered Roman territories where the crosses were very slowly and subtly removed from the coinage possibly over the period of a decade.

The horizontal bar would gradually be removed from the crosses on all mintage leaving just a vertical pole, and the Muslim declaration of faith was added to the obverse margins. So the coins would go from the original Byzantine coin:

To the coin following the Muslim conquests:

To, ultimately:

These coins¹⁴ are not great rarities. They are so abundantly available that if you look hard enough you can buy them yourself over the internet. So let there be no doubt about this. The early Muslims went through such great pains not to offend the local non-Muslim populations whom they had quite thoroughly conquered. They could have done whatever they wanted to them. Yet, out of the fear of their Lord, they refrained from offending their non-Muslim subjects.” Compare that to how Muslims today, many of whom can barely even rule their own households, and treat those around them with respect – Muslim and non-Muslim alike.

Conclusion

Albert Einstein supposedly said: “Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius – and a lot of courage – to move in the opposite direction.”

With all the apocalyptic clamor about ruling by Shari`ah and re-establishing a Caliphate in our times, what is sorely missing in these Muslim revolutionaries is an insight into the hearts of those who set the standards for establishing a successful society that was truly Islamic. As the answer to where we went wrong becomes increasingly clear, we can then go back to the question, “How do we get those glory days back?” Much work is to be done to achieve that, but it won’t be by strength of arms. It must be in the classrooms, homeless shelters, drug rehabilitation centers, mentoring programs and other social and civic means by which Muslims can forge a better society wherein all mankind, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, can flourish. Only then will we have exemplified God’s description of the role we play in this world:

“You are the best nation produced [as an example] for mankind. You enjoin what is right and forbid what is wrong and believe in Allāh.” (Qur’an, 3:110)

Photo: Alby Headrick

By Macksood A. Aftab

The conflict between science and religion has posed a serious threat to religious authority in the contemporary era. Many advocates of scientism have used the tremendous success of science in modern times to question the usefulness of religion as a means of seeking the truth. For example, Stephen Hawking recently stated in a Huffington Post article, “Before we understood science, it was natural to believe that God created the universe, but now science offers a more convincing explanation.” More recently the harsh critique of religion based upon various forms of scientism by writers such as Richard Dawkins have escalated the conflict.

Their view assumes that both religion and science have the same purpose, namely of explaining the existence of the universe. Furthermore, the scientific method is considered a more reliable way to achieve this goal. This is primarily so because science deals with physical processes, which can be quantified and measured, whereas religion often resorts to metaphysical references, which cannot be “proven.” Professor Naquib Al-Attas, the celebrated Malaysian Muslim philosopher, summarizes the essential problem. He writes, “A gist of their [those who espouse science as the source for truth] basic assumptions is that science is the sole authentic knowledge; that this [scientific] knowledge pertains only to phenomena.” Excluded from science is anything that does not have a “physical” existence, anything that cannot be empirically studied. Therefore, implicit in a worldview that holds science as the highest authority of knowledge is a denial of God.

As the Nobel laureate Werner Arber, president of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, writes, “The natural sciences are in a steady search for truth, and so is theology.” This naturally creates two apparently competing methodologies of seeking and determining the truth, which inevitably leads to conflict between theology and science. Although the Catholic Church did generally support science, when the conclusions of scientists came in conflict with church dogma, problems arose. This can be seen in the experiences of Copernicus, Galileo, and Darwin.

Islamic history, however, took a different course. Despite the existence of a sustained robust scientific enterprise in the Islamic world, an overt conflict between science and religion did not arise. Professor Walbridge of Indiana University points out that “the Islamic world produced no martyrs for science like Bruno and Galileo.” One of the achievements of Islamic civilization was the creation of a worldview in which both theology and science could be accepted in a comprehensive rational framework.

The Islamic tradition of scholastic theology is known as kalam. The two primary schools of kalam are the Ash`ari and its close cousin the Maturidi schools. Both are based upon a rational understanding of God and the Universe, which also seek to rigorously preserve salient features of the Islamic concept of God. This tradition, along with its larger place in the Islamic worldview, can best be understood through the works of one of its main proponents Imam Abu Hamid Al-Ghazali (d. 1111 CE). Richard Frank, a scholar of Islamic theology, describes Ghazali as, “The most important Sunni theologian at a crucial turning point in the history of orthodox Muslim theology.” During his time Islam was emerging from a period of intellectual schism. Ghazali contributed to the development of a consensus on this issue, which was to largely become the dominant Sunni doctrine. Thus the Ghazali scholar and translator Walter Skellie writes, “With him [Ghazali] the religious philosophy and experience of Islam reaches its zenith.”

Demonstrative Proof (Burhan)

The triumph of Ghazali’s epistemology lies in its successful reconciliation of reason with revelation. One key element of this was the allowance of figurative interpretations of scripture, particularly when it relates to assertions that may conflict with what is known via reason. Ghazali sets the bar very high for a scientific proof to over-ride scripture, something he calls burhan. Burhan is demonstrative knowledge or definitive logical proof. According to Ghazali, it held an even higher epistemic status than even scholastic theology (kalam).

Professor Al-Akiti of Oxford writes, “For al-Ghazali, burhan [definitive logical proof], and not kalam, is what he considered to be scientific knowledge, the ‘gold-standard’ in the art of reasoning – a judgment expounded in his Mi’yar al-’Ilm.” The late professor Marmura, a Ghazali scholar, summarizes Ghazali’s attitude towards definitive logical proof as follows:

“A science whose conclusions are not demonstrably true and which are in conflict with the literal assertions of scripture must be rejected. On the other hand, if what is demonstrably true contradicts the literal sense of scriptural language, then the latter must be interpreted metaphorically.”

Having firmly grounded his worldview in rationality, Ghazali proceeds to point out that physical science does not meet the standards of definitive logical proof unless God is added to the equation. This is because science is based upon a flawed assumption, namely that of natural causation. Causation, Ghazali argues, can only guaranteed if God is there to secure it. And importantly, according to Ghazali, God is there to secure it. Belief in God then becomes a prerequisite to the successful pursuit of science.

Causation, God & Science

Ghazali was able to reconcile the most important principle of science (namely causation) with Islamic theological doctrines (as articulated by the dominant Ash`ari school). Ash`ari theology developed in response to certain heterodox formulations of Islamic doctrine (such as those adopted by the Mutazalites and the Philosophers) which had the effect of diminishing key Divine attributes. Some of these formulations share a belief in necessary causation with modern secular scientists. Therefore Ghazali’s critique of their view is particularly instructive in tackling similar issues in the contemporary era.

Some of the main articles of faith in Ash`ari theology are that God is all powerful, He is all knowing and all events occur due to His express will. The Ash`aris therefore believed that all events are directly caused only by God, and not by anything else. God is not merely the first cause but also the immediate cause of every subsequent minor and major event that occurs in the universe. This appears to run contrary to our contemporary understanding of secular science, which rests on the principle of natural causation. Namely, that things (or events) cause other things (or events). For example, we think fire causes cotton to burn when they are brought near each other.

Ghazali questions the principle of necessary causation adopted by certain philosophers. According to Ghazali, this relationship between cause and effect is not necessary. To use his terminology, there is no definitive logical proof (burhan) that it is the cause that is responsible for the effect. He argues that all we observe is a quick succession of events, cotton being brought close to fire and the cotton burning. But a relationship based simply on proximity in time or space does not imply necessary causation. Ghazali famously states, “The connection between what is habitually believed to be a cause and what is habitually believed to be an effect is not necessary.”

David Hume in the Western tradition made a similar argument against causation. He asked, “Where is the causal glue” holding together the cause and the effect? Unlike Hume who was led to skepticism, however, Ghazali has an answer to this conundrum. For Ghazali, the causal glue is God. It is God who ensures that the relationship between cause and effect always holds. In doing so, Ghazali has made room for orthodox Islamic theology in which God is the direct cause of everything.

On its surface this line of thinking can be misunderstood to in fact undermine science, as several historians and scientists have thought. For example, the historian Tamim Ansary writes, “Take it however you will, the argument against causality undermines the whole scientific enterprise. If nothing actually causes anything else, why bother to observe the natural world in search of meaningful patterns?” Pervez Hoodbhoy, a preeminent Pakistani scientist, expresses a similar concern with the Ash`ari position, stating that in such a world, “even a speeding arrow might not reach its destination.” In other words, if the cause and effect relationship is not necessary then there would be no sure way to rely on our observations, predict natural phenomena or to do scientific experiments.

Conflict Averted, Science Flourished

This criticism, however, implies a dogmatic belief in science which sidesteps the very real problem of causation. Ghazali does not need to (nor does he) deny causation. He is merely denying necessary causation—namely, that there is no conclusive proof that things can influence other things by themselves. For Ghazali, God is required to ensure that the relationship between cause and effect always hold true. As Frank Griffel, a Ghazali scholar at Yale, writes:

“Trust in God (tawakkul) is a major condition for investigating the natural sciences. Such trust requires the certainty to know that God will not change books into horses or disconnect our knowledge from reality. Given that God habitually creates our knowledge to accord with reality, we can rely on our sense and our judgment and confidently pursue the natural sciences.”

According to this view God could suspend the laws of causation, but He never does and never will. So fire will always burn cotton but this is only true because in every instance of its occurrence God ensures that it is so. In effect, Ghazali has created a framework in which science can operate and the principles of Islamic theology (Divine power, knowledge and will) are also preserved.

Furthermore, Ghazali even located miracles – which he calls strange and wondrous phenomena – within the empirical world. Even miracles were then not Divine acts of suspension of the normal workings of the universe; rather they were unusual phenomena of nature due to causes not immediately clear to us at the moment. The possibility of additional causal chains other than those currently physically observed encouraged further exploration of the natural world. Ahmad Dallal, a historian of Islamic science at Georgetown University writes,

“The aspect that had the most influence on the development of science was the concept of multiple possibilities (tajwiz), the notion that specific natural philosophical explanations (or planetary models) are possible but not certain, and that there may exist alternative explanations for the natural phenomena… this idea was grounded in an epistemological criticism of Aristotelian metaphysics.”

After Ghazali, science in the Muslim world experienced a prolonged renaissance as documented by Yale historian George Saliba. His understanding had the effect of legitimizing science. Science was a discipline ensured by God. It also had the effect of effectively separating theology from physical science. Divine attributes are known through revelation, and science plays no significant role in informing us about these metaphysical matters. On the other hand revelation does not interfere with the workings of science; it is left as an independent discipline within the larger Islamic framework. Dallal explains,

“After Al-Ghazali, the need to invoke religion to vindicate science considerably decreased, not because science was not accepted but because it did not need vindication. Excluding final-cause explorations from science did not compromise the providence of God, which was simply assumed without questioning (bila kayf).”

This worldview rests on the premise that God exists and sustains the Universe. God is not the end goal of science, but rather the starting point. This created an organic and interdependent relationship between science and religion, which essentially eliminated the potential of conflict between the two disciplines. In fact, as professor Muzaffar Iqbal, a philosopher of Islamic science, writes:

“No one thought of them [science and religion] as two independent entities which needed to be related via an external mechanism… This relationship emerged naturally and because the scientific tradition was thoroughly rooted in the worldview created by Islam.”

This worldview was rational. It recognized the primacy of reason and in fact accorded burhan the highest epistemic status. Within this framework secular science is critiqued based upon logical fallacies assumed by its proponents. Science is then presented not as a competing force with religion, but rather as a viable enterprise, as part of a comprehensive worldview that encompasses God. In fact, it is grounded in the assumption of God. This delicate balance, which secured both science and theology, is one of the greatest achievements of medieval Muslim theologians.

—

Dr. Macksood Aftab is a neuroradiologist, and clinical assistant professor at both Michigan State University and Central Michigan University. He holds a Master degree in History of Science, and is an editor for the Journal of Islamic Philosophy. The author can be reached at: mackaftab@post.harvard.edu.

By Lusana Ahsan

I am a believer in miracles. Yes, I was a chemistry major in college. I saw and still see this world as a conglomeration of atoms and molecules that follow the precise laws of nature in a symphony that defies the notion of miracles. I am in a profession where treatment must be evidence-based—a calculated evaluation of patient parameters where the data takes precedence over a doctor’s hunch. Yet, there are so many moments in life when I can only describe the gifts of Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala (exalted is He) as miracles—signs of His Power, Mercy and Grace.

It all started when I was a little girl in Bangladesh. I saw the servant girl removing the stems of dried pepper on the rooftop of my grandfather’s house and decided to help her. It was fun, until my hands started burning as if they were on fire. I could not stop crying.  Being only five, everyone in the house was by my side as I started bawling. I sat on my mother’s lap with my hands immersed in a jug of cold water, but the burning simply would not go away. Then my grandmother had an idea. She turns to my grandfather and goes, “Why don’t you read the du`a’ (supplication) that Ibrahim `alayhi as-salaam (peace be upon him) read when he was thrown into the fire by Firawn?” So I took my hands out of the water and held them in front of Nanabhai (Grandfather) as he repeated the du`a’ of Ibrahim and blew on my fingers.

“Sufficient for us is Allah , and [He is] the best Disposer of affairs.” (Quran 3:173)

Suddenly, the pain was gone! It was not a gradual decrease of pain the way we normally expect; but an instant relief. I remember laughing in disbelief at that amazing miracle. In my five years of existence, it was the most wonderful act of God that I had ever witnessed. Subhan’Allah (Glory be to God), there is no cure like Allah’s cure. It is a beautiful memory that still lives within me today and makes me a believer in the power of du`a’.

Du`a’ is difficult to make if you do not believe in its power to be accepted. When I was five, I believed with all my heart that my Nanabhai’s du`a’ would cease the burning of my hands and alhamdulillah, (praise be to God), it did. However, as an adult, I wonder, do I still have that same pure conviction, the same reliance on Allah’s divine help?

Allah (swt) says in the Qur’an, “And We have already created man and know what his soul whispers to him, and We are closer to him than [his] jugular vein,” (Quran 50:16). Allah (swt) knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows our thoughts, our fears, our desires and our hopes, and therefore, He grants us our du`a’ in a manner that is best for us. Allah (swt) responds to every du`a’, but we lack the clairvoyance to appreciate the journey that is necessary to receive the gifts that we desire.

Although we are encouraged to make du`a’ for many things, we will probably not live long enough to see the full effects of the du`a’ that we make for our children, community, and the world.  Other types of du`a’ we are encouraged to make are for our afterlife: to be in the shade of Allah’s Throne on the Day of Judgment, to be entered into Jannah (Paradise), etc. Although these du`a’ are for the future, there are still times, when the answer to my du`a’ is so instantaneous that it knocks me to my knees. I end here with another story.

When I was a third-year medical student, I was observing the final moments of a woman’s delivery. After thirty hours of labor, she screamed in pain as it came to the final push to the birth of her first child. Nurses and physicians smiled as the baby was finally born and we all cocked our ears for the first cry. Except the baby did not cry. The delivery room turned chaotic as pediatric intensivists rushed in to take care of the newborn. I looked at the mother and all I could see were silent tears streaming down her face. The hope that sustained her for nine months of pregnancy and thirty hours of labor had turned to devastation in the blink of an eye. I held her hand and started making sincere du`a’. Everyone in the room was silently praying. After some agonizing minutes, the baby started breathing by the mercy of Allah (swt). Alhamdulillah. You may say it was by medical intervention, but I believe it was a miraculous response to du`a’. For every human effort there is a chance that it will fail; its success is only with the permission of Allah (swt).

Lusana is currently a medical student at SUNY Downstate Medical Center working towards a career in internal medicine. Raised in the Big Apple, she is a city girl who is also in love with nature.

By Taymullah Abdur-Rahman

`Ilm al-sulûk is the method of putting knowledge into action so that theory comes to life. It is the lifeblood of sincerity. The word salaka means “to walk or go,” as Allah, subhanahu wa ta’ala (exalted is He), mentions in Surah Taha:

“And He has made earth spread out for you and salaka lakum fihaa (has enabled you to go out in it)” (Qu’ran, 20:53).

`Ilm al-sulûk is to tread the path of reliance, reflection and application, and it is the first and last science of Islam. Revelation began and ended with it.

Before his prophethood, Allah inspired Prophet Muhammad ﷺ  to spend time in solitude to prepare his heart and purify it for the weighty Word of Qu’ran. Towards the end of his life, he not only reviewed Qu’ran with Jibrail (the angel Gabriel) more than ever before, he also doubled his ‘itikaf (solitary worship) from ten to twenty days. Is this not the kind of application of spiritual `ibadah (worship) that is sometimes misunderstood and ridiculed?

For this reason, it is the first science of Islam because without it the Messenger of Allah’s ﷺ  heart would have never been ready to receive Revelation. So why is it the last science? Because every Muslim until today who seeks to understand Islam and know his Lord must first prepare his heart to receive the true meanings of Qu’ran by spending some time alone and purifying it, and this is what we hope to take from the spiritual retreat of ‘itikaf in or outside of Ramadan.

Allah (swt) says: “And those who strive for Us – We will surely guide them to Our ways. And indeed, Allah is with the doers of good” (Qu’ran, 29:69).

Many people are religious but few are truly spiritual because spirituality is a gift from Allah (swt). Fiqh (jurisprudence) will make you religious but `Ilm al-sulûk will give you spirituality.  The difference being that you cannot teach `Ilm al-sulûk. That is why Imam Ghazali’s books are so complex. Due to his yearning for the rest of us to experience what he had, he was trying to explain what cannot be put into words.

However in 1934, a psychologist named Kurt Goldstein, in his breakthrough work, The Organism,  discovered a human condition that he called “self-actualization.” Mr. Goldstein’s discovery was later expounded on by Abraham Maslow. Maslow explained that these unique people (1% of the world’s population according to him) who were able to self-actualize held certain traits. From these traits were the following: seeing reality as it is, having an inclination towards solitude, experiencing peak spiritual moments of ecstasy, possessing a renewed appreciation and awe for nature, feeling a deep connection and genuine concern for all humans despite labels and affiliations, being mission-driven in life in order to solve problems greater and beyond themselves, and having acceptance of the flaws and contradictions of others.

Are these not the characteristics of the prophets and righteous men? Compare those qualities with the traits of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ, with Abu Bakr, with Umar, with Hasan al Basri, with Salahadin, radi Allahu `anhum (may God be pleased with them), with those hidden pious shuyookh (spiritual leaders) who still exist today far away from the spotlight. They are all one and the same.

Sometimes science comes along and confirms for us what we should have already been sure of. However, due to a lack of complete iman (faith) we may need additional confirmation. Some scholars assert that Allah (swt) waited to reveal the level of science we possess today for that simple reason; as a supplement to our iman.

As Muslims we cannot get caught in the technicalities of jurisprudence only. Because the peak of humanity is to actualize monotheism by reflecting God’s Mercy (swt) through demonstrating generosity and tolerance towards other created things, whether those things are human, botanical, animal or inanimate. Call it self-actualization, call it tazkiyah (purification of the soul) or call it `Ilm al-sulûk. Regardless of its name, when we realize its great impact, the world will be better off.

By Maryam Sakeenah

I travel across two worlds in my 20-minute commute between both my workplaces: a modern religious school, and a private grammar school where scions of Pakistan’s moneyed elite are privileged with quality education in tune with modern needs. The mindsets I deal with and the attitudes I encounter make for interesting comparison. At the religious school, the concepts of the sacred and the profane as defined by absolute religious morality are the framework for all thought-patterns and behaviour. Fidelity to the sacred is the highest value promoted and readily accepted—at least ostensibly—in an environment designed to actively encourage it. At the grammar school, the central value is free thinking and critical inquiry rigorously promoted by the administration. The curriculum is built around and disseminates post-Enlightenment Western perspectives and metanarratives, with the fundamental premise that of relative morality and of individual liberty as the highest value to be protected and safeguarded. Students are taught to invariably seek answers and explanations through logic, and question where the logical basis for an assumption seems unsatisfactory. While the tendency is generally positive, its universal and indiscriminate application may in fact be reminiscent of the cold, rock-hard post-Enlightenment Rationalism that Post-Modernist thought struggles to throw overboard for some of the infamous disasters attributed to it.

It strikes me each time in my Religious Studies class I raise a point from within the Islamic tradition that requires acceptance through faithful submission. While the classes are delightfully interactive and invigorating with questions, debates and discussions, the same may also afford a glimpse into a stark, gaping abyss lurking at the heart of this kind of education that carries the baggage of post-Enlightenment thought.

I happened to mention in the course of a class discussion, the fact that wearing gold for men is strongly discouraged in the mainstream Islamic tradition, and was showered with skeptical comments on the rationale of the ruling that bordered on impertinence. ‘But guys look so cool with all those accessories, and what about those gorgeous wedding rings? What’s so wrong with this? I mean I don’t see the point,’ said a particularly spirited young lady. I am also very often asked to suggest quick and easy ways to help students get regular with the daily prayers. And I always find myself unable to provide short and easy solutions, because the will to express adoration, submission and reverence to God in the daily prayer is engendered by a deep humbling sentiment from within—‘God-consciousness’ (taqwa)—it is not attainable through the Logos alone.

The Western logocentric worldview ruthlessly drilled into these minds—it privileges objective, empirical knowledge and rationalist thought over the intuitive ‘mythos’; it does not help create the sentiment that can make the daily prayer an act of loving labour. Judged and perceived by the logocentric yardstick, worship rituals ‘lose the magic’ and are reduced to an arduous, necessary undertaking that doesn’t quite help in the business of life. Moreover, the prioritization of individual liberty as the core value makes the demands placed by religious belief on personal behaviour and conduct confining and restricting. The ascendancy of Logos over Mythos interprets existential questions as objectively knowable, reducible to ‘facts’ and explainable by ‘empirical evidence.’ Religion with its core principle of a Transcendent Unknowable Absolute Truth intuitively experienced through the exercise of the mythos therefore is unappealing to the highly intellectualized mindset produced in modern urban schools. This also explains the rising incidence of Atheism in Pakistan’s institutions for the ‘privileged elite’—high schools, colleges, universities. Encouraging a culture of questioning, critical thinking and non-conformism to convention, this kind of a ‘privileged’ education makes Atheism an exciting alternative that many like to consider with some seriousness and express with an audacity that becomes admirable in that educational context.

William Eggington writes in ‘How Religions Became Fundamentalist’:

“One of the functions of religions was to teach people that the transcendent nature of ultimate reality was such that no human could ever, in principle, come to know the ultimate truth. What is crucial to grasp is that this core principle simultaneously sustains the existence of mythos and logos as two separate but equal domains of knowledge; for if the ultimate, all-encompassing questions are by nature infinite, if human knowledge in principle cannot grasp everything, then practical, objectifying logos is simply not relevant to such discussions, and the holistic, metaphoric standards of mythos have their place. Likewise, to the extent that modernity has allowed mythos to be pushed aside by the practical successes of the scientific method, the axial principle of the transcendence of ultimate knowledge has been weakened. But it is this principle that more than any other works to defend humanity from the dangers of its own certainty.”

By ignoring and excluding the ‘mythos’ and ignoring the need for religious narrative and myth, our educationists have made young minds incapable of developing an appreciation for aspects of religion inaccessible through pure Logos. Iqbal had said, ‘Reason is the lamp that shows the road, but does not mark the destination’—for the destination lies beyond the abyss that is intractable to reason, and requires the ‘leap of faith’ above and beyond that abyss. Pascal famously said, ‘Above the logic in the head is the feeling in the heart; and the heart has reasons of its own that the head cannot understand […]’

On the other side, there is a conspicuous absence of religious discourse in our part of the world that can respond to or even grapple with this heightened propensity for questioning and demanding rational explanations. The rising numbers of young atheists across Pakistan’s higher education colleges and universities therefore is no surprise.

And then there is that other world. At Pakistan’s traditional religious schools (madrassahs), the Dars e Nizami, a religious studies curriculum that dates from Deobandi seminaries in 18^th century India, is taught. Although it is inaccurate to say that this curriculum is stuck in the medieval past that it originated in, the fact remains that new course content deals largely with the refutation of the concepts of other religious schools of thought and sects. There are many madrassahs that also include in the course a heavily lopsided critique and refutation of Western ideas. This threatens to develop exclusivist tendencies as well as what Sociologists would call a ‘world-rejecting’ orientation that pits the religious graduate against a monolithic and ‘other-ized’ world full of false, evil and deviant ideas. According to Dr. Tariq Rahman,

“Thus, while on the surface the madrassa curriculum is medieval and unchanging, in reality it changes to refute whatever seems to threaten it. This threat might be from alien religions or philosophies but the fact is that the madrassas do counter it. The madrassas, then, are not static institutions. They are not buried in the past; they are active and dynamic institutions which have seen themselves as being besieged since British days and which are still fighting against the external world.” (The Education of ‘Maulvis’: the Dars e Nizami debate)

The other half of my day is spent at a religious school that struggles in its attempt to protect values sanctified by religion in the midst of what it sees as an amoral morass in the wider society. However, lacking a comprehensive curriculum for a modern Islamic school competing with the urban private school and yet promising something unique in terms of faith, educators at the school face an uphill task. Without the necessary educational basis consisting of traditional aqeedah (the Islamic creed/belief/doctrine/theology) and tazkiyah (ethics, spirituality) that can help students internalize the values the school aims to impart, these well-intentioned educators’ attempts to mould Muslim personalities in what is seen as an increasingly valueless society become reduced to a superficial imposition. This external emphasis without the internal grounding triggers off among students a variety of responses. Taking for example the issue of the Islamic dress code, the responses range from zealous espousal of it by a small minority, to reaction against the perceived imposition by asserting rejectionist behaviour on the contrary. There are many more that docilely accept the dress code, not understanding or appreciating its symbolism and significance, hence taking it as a matter of course. At best, many of these schools mushrooming now in urban centres present an alternative environment for students to study much the same that they do in the regular schools, with desperate attempts to include religious jargon, uphold religious form and ritual. The advantages of the ‘Islamic environment’ promised by these schools are debateable, given its insular nature in a diverse, jostling external environment that the students of such schools eventually have to find space in the midst of.

However, all said, these kind of modern Islamic schools cannot and should not be so easily dismissed. This kind of school is a response by sincere, educated, religiously-inclined novices to the world-rejecting outlook of traditional madrassahs, the obscurantist tendencies of religious clergy and the exclusivist teaching of fiqh (juristic) schools of thought adhered to by respective madrassah administrations. The modern Islamic school is an attempt to bridge gaps, and hence tries to fulfill an important need. However, these schools are in a nascent state, often employ amateurish methods and need to evolve towards maturation.

The madrassah-educated Deobandi muqallid (exclusive follower of a school of thought) whose speech is laced with religious jargon and references to religious authority, and the English-speaking Social Sciences/Humanities student quoting Dawkins and Hitchens represent two ‘worlds’ rubbing shoulders in this society. These two cultures created by two widely differentiated education systems are all set upon a head-on collision course. It is frightening because these ‘cultures’ overlap the stratification of the society along the lines of social class. This means that the university graduate possesses the cultural capital that eventually makes him monopolize resources, sit at the helm of affairs and control policy, even when his value-system is at the fringes of an otherwise deeply conventional religious society. He is poised for control over the generation of ideas and opinion-making, and constructs inroads into the media and the academia. On the other hand is the culturally deprived religious seminary graduate whose fewer career prospects and constant fear of poverty complicates his situation as he perceives himself as disempowered and reduced to a social underclass. The resentment this breeds means that he may not always react to this predicament in ways that may be measured and moderated. It means the existence—far from peaceful—of two clashing cultures and ideologies pitted against each other in one society. Often the clash is intellectually played out as the discourse and rhetoric emanating from both sides hardens against each other and becomes increasingly intolerant and damning towards the other side—be it from the religious or the secular-liberal fanatic.

I crave middleness in a society pulled taut at the seams. The poise of ‘middleness’ can be reached through the understanding that concepts considered ‘secular’ and ‘Western’ and hence diametrically opposed to Islam may not actually be so. Reason and rational thought, democratic values, pluralism and humanism may in fact be as characteristic of Islamic tradition as they are understood to be of modern ‘Western’ secular society, though both traditions have unique ways of understanding them. In the broadest terms, the two may not necessarily be mutually exclusive. Most of these values are shared and universal. However, given our cultural-religious context, these must be interpreted and understood as distinctly envisaged by the Islamic tradition. This is where the need and role of the ‘ulema (Islamic scholars) comes in.

Nor is it wise in the least to think—as the secular-liberals tend to—that solutions to contemporary problems have to be found beyond religion, or that ‘progress’ has to ape the ‘Western’ paradigm and jettison religion like the Enlightenment West did—lock, stock and barrel. This narrow and superficial approach is a recipe for disaster that will understandably provoke backlash from the religious sections of the society. The panacea seems to lie in a rediscovery and reassertion of the values of Islam that address contemporary issues—values that may not necessarily be averse to and against what many in the West may also have discovered and advocated: the values of social justice and human rights, tolerance and peaceful coexistence, rationalism and egalitarianism. Religious scholars must engage in the colossal task of reinstating this rather eclipsed Islamic discourse and narrative, evidence for which is voluminous in the Qur’an and the sunnah (life and example of the Prophet ﷺ (peace be upon him). This must be presented in the language and method that can reach out to and address the modern mind. Central and most vital to a solution is the understanding that answers have to be sought (and are amply present) within the religious tradition of this society, and not outside of it. Trying to seek them outside of it is a self-defeating, mislaid endeavour.

I never liked chemistry because I wasn’t good at it.  Even now, as I fully admit, that it is unfair to have judged the messy subject by my own personal limitations, I still feel stress every time I hear the word “lab” or see someone wearing goggles.

Most people love mixing things, a deep instinct beginning from early childhood.  Whether it be implementing the steps of a cookie recipe or creating new colors with paint, I can see this instinct alive and well in my own children.  Even a very young child can recognize that the mixed result will only be as good as its parts and that some parts simply don’t mix.  Still, perhaps most magnificent of all these phenomenon are those types of matter that will mix to make energy.

One day, when they are older, I would love to explain to them that the mixing of the elements of the physical world provide a striking analogy for the mixing of the elements of the spiritual world.

There is a potent chemical called Sincerity.  Sincerity is a very peculiar substance that exhibits many amazing properties.  First of all, it has a very low boiling point; any spotlight will easily cause it to evaporate (Riya’ – showing off).  So elusive is this substance that many a scientist have actually had to fully isolate himself from all environmental stimuli to be able to study it (spiritual retreat).  In its liquid state, it can form many compounds, but in every case, becomes almost fully unrecognizable from its original state (mixed intentions).

As for its solid state, it is the most remarkable of all.  It has an extremely high melting point, requiring temperatures of scorching magnitudes, to return it to its liquid form.  In its solid state, Sincerity refuses to mix with anything and naturally expels all impurities.  The impenetrable integrity of the solid form of Sincerity is so unique in the study of chemistry that scientists coined a special name for it; Tawheed (belief in One God).  Chemists gave it this name to represent its unchanging and independent state, such that no other substance in existence has the ability to alter it.

Strangely enough, however, there is one substance, and only one, that the Tawheed solid interacts with.  It is known as Knowledge.  Knowledge naturally occurs in the form of a gas.  Humans have the ability to breathe this gas (culture, society) and do so involuntarily on a daily basis.  Yet, subjects have exhibited greatly varying effects in response to it. The effects of large doses of this gas, administered over long periods of time, have been studied only to reveal that no consistent rule can be determined.  Each subject is led to think, speak, and even dress differently based on their particular immune response to this gas.  However, it has been noted that the effects of the Knowledge gas seem to have some correlation to the specific parts of the world where Knowledge gas reserves exist (civilizational heritage).  Scientists were baffled upon discovering that subjects, who took 5 daily pills of the Tawheed solid, were almost fully immune to its adverse effects.

On the other hand, in its liquid form, Knowledge produces entirely different effects.  It is a highly volatile chemical that welcomes a union with all other substances (speculative, theoretical, unproven knowledge).  Many of these compounds release a foul-smelling gas, some release small amounts of energy, and some are highly dangerous combustible substances.   When small bits of the Tawheed solid are immersed in the liquid Knowledge they cause it to coagulate and release impurities.

Another interesting configuration is the mixing of liquid Knowledge (speculative knowledge) with liquid Sincerity (mixed intentions).  The effect would seem non-existent to the lay observer, however, upon much experimentation, the experts have found that liquid Knowledge drastically lowers the boiling point of liquid Sincerity (i.e. facilitates the evaporation of sincerity under lower temperatures/temptations) and also raises its freezing point (i.e. acts as an inhibitor preventing sincerity from reaching its solid state.)

Most scientists agree that Knowledge reaches the peak of its utility and stability in the solid form. The Knowledge solid is most often used in the foundation of buildings, because of its stability under pressure.  It is also widely used in medicines.  The Knowledge solid is almost impossible to manipulate because it mixes with only one other substances in existence, the Tawheed solid!  In fact, the combining of the Tawheed solid with the Knowledge solid is the most spectacular phenomenon scientists have ever witnessed in human history.

Even before they combine, when brought close together, they begin to emit a strange but pleasant humming noise (like a reciter of the Qur’an).  If brought even closer together, they begin to glow and emit a pleasant smell.  When the scientist at work allows the Tawheed solid to touch the Knowledge solid, they unite to form one mass.  The light emitted from this mass is so strong that the scientist at work is forced to wear an eye-protecting material.  It is theorized that some early civilizations (Salaf) might have used the Tawheed-Knowledge mass to provide energy (and lighting) for entire communities of people.

Scientists are very hopeful with regard to the application of this technology.  Many have surmised that after Humans have depleted Earth’s natural energy reserves, that this Tawheed-Knowledge mass could potentially provide enough energy to sustain the entire population of the Earth.  Studies are currently being conducted to determine the feasibility of producing this energy source and ways to harness its benefit for mankind.

The chemical formula of Tawheed can be found in Surat al-Ikhlaas.

The chemical formula of Knowledge can be found in Surat al-Asr.

A recent article in the International Journal of Cardiology entitled “The heart and cardiovascular system in Qur’an and Hadith” analyzes the concept of the heart in Islam with regards to cardiac physiology and cardiovascular disease in the biomedical context, and discusses relevant historical Muslim scholarship about health and disease. Received by the Muslim community with much celebration, this article represents the latest in an attempt to couch Islamic thought in light of modern science.

Our current historical context places a particularly strong emphasis on science as an objective means to test the validity of ideas. Epistemologically, what is science? It is a systematic means of asking questions about the natural world. Scientists make observations about phenomena and fit their understanding of those phenomena into falsifiable frameworks, which are then used to generate hypotheses. These hypotheses educate controlled experiments, allowing for more observations. Rinse and repeat. A scientific theory, thus, must 1) be based on observation, and therefore 2) be falsifiable (i.e., have the potential to be proved wrong by observation of something to the contrary). Science, therefore, is fundamentally limited in scope to the observable.

Unfortunately, the temptation to use science to validate Islam often entraps Muslims with poor understandings of either concept. Given the twin requirements on scientific theory that I outlined above (observable and falsifiable), a cursory consideration of the nature of religion would confirm that science simply doesn’t possess the means to assess it. A metaphysical creator (Allah subhanahu wa ta`ala – exalted is he) is, by definition, unobservable. That’s why the second page of the Qur’an will tell you that the Book is a guide for those who believe in “ghayb.” Roughly translated, ghayb means unseen, or unperceivable–literally unobservable. If Allah is fundamentally unobservable (which is why faith is challenging – if we could all see, touch, hear, smell, or taste Allah, then there would be no question of belief in Him), then He and His actions are non-falsifiable, and therefore completely out of the realm of scientific assessment. The same is true for any metaphysical aspect of faith teachings – such as the spiritual quality of the heart.

Articles like the one discussed above, when triumphantly declared as testaments to the greatness of Islam, highlight a certain uneasiness our community has with inherent beliefs in our religion. We seem to believe that somehow when “big bad science” says that there’s wisdom or miracles in the Qur’an, it makes it truer.

The fundamental danger of this approach of using science as an “objective” validation tool for the Qu’ran is that scientifically-based theories are, by definition, falsifiable, and therefore fallible: theories that were as sacrosanct as gravity have been shattered (falsified) with one simple experiment. Insofar as there are untruths in current scientific theories (and there are – those very untruths are what keep the scientific community in business), and they disagree with descriptions of phenomena in the Qu’ran, which does one who uses science as a validation of the Qur’an believe?

Moreover, our reliance on science as a crutch for our weakness in faith has another harmful externality: it incentivizes poor quality science. Much of the article in question conflates the spiritual heart discussed most often in Muslim scholarship, with the physiological heart of the biomedical literature. Insofar as a metaphysical, the spiritual heart is unobservable and non-falsifiable, it sits completely outside of the bounds of scientific assessment, and therefore, is not appropriate for a biomedical journal. For this reason, conflating religion with science reflects poorly on the part of Muslims with regard to the scientific community.

Rather than using science to interpret Islam, our scholarly community must think more critically about using Islam to interpret scientific findings. Unfortunately, many who trumpet “the scientific miracles of the Qur’an” will also flatly and unabashedly deny the existence of data supporting evolution. While this remains a massively contentious debate across theistic communities, Muslims cannot retreat to stereotyped evangelical Christian opinions. Our religious scholars must consider how Islam might interpret objectively-observed and falsifiable evidence for the processes of genetic drift and non-random adaptation. Rather than jump to stereotyped, knee-jerk opinions (effectively blindly condemning the theory), how can we use Islamic exegesis to interpret these increasingly well-supported scientific data? How can we understand these findings within the context of Islam’s teachings about creation, life, and change? These questions are particularly relevant to biomedical ethical dilemmas such as abortion, stem-cell research, and so forth.

Much of the framework upon which modern scientific reasoning is built was developed by Muslims during the early history of our religion. These early scientists however, recognized the strengths and limits of their approach—Muslims today must approach science with the same zeal as well as the same recognition.

“[Those] who remember Allah while standing or sitting or [lying] on their sides and give thought to the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], “Our Lord, You did not create this aimlessly; exalted are You [above such a thing]; then protect us from the punishment of the Fire.” (3:191)

This was his advice in regards to the science of philosophy, particularly the Greek philosophy of Plato and Aristotle which many Muslims took pride in studying. He was warning them of the dangers that could result from this study. But he didn’t stop there. He even warned people about studying mathematics and other sciences. Why?

So You Thought You Were Safe
“What’s wrong with math?” you might ask. “That has nothing to do with religion.” Here is what al-Ghazali had to say: “The mathematical sciences…nothing in them entails denial or affirmation of religious matters…from them, however, two evils have been caused…”

The First Danger: Blind Conformity
“One of these is that whoever takes up these mathematical sciences marvels at the fine precision of their details and the clarity of their proofs. Because of that, he forms a high opinion of the philosophers [who were the mathematicians at that time] and assumes that all their sciences have the same lucidity and rational solidarity as this science of mathematics. Moreover, he will have heard the talk of the town about their unbelief and their negative attitude. [They say]: ‘If religion were true, this would not have been unknown to these philosophers […]’”

Al-Ghazali then expresses his deep regret over this sad state of affairs: “How many a man have I seen who strayed from the path of truth on this pretext and for no other reason!”

The only thing that has changed in our time is that it is not the philosopher who holds such a position in the eyes of students, but rather the scientist. How many times have I heard a Muslim doubting something about his own religion while saying: “But scientists say…”? One thousand years and not much has changed.

Imam al-Ghazali goes on to say that a man skilled in one field is not necessarily skilled in every field. Also, the internal consistency of one subject does not necessarily relate to another subject. Today, we find that even psychiatrists need a shrink or some family counseling sometimes. Just because someone may have the ability to process mathematical equations quickly in their mind or to figure out how certain chemicals react with one another doesn’t mean they have all the answers to life.

The Second Danger: Rejecting the Good
There is another problem. When some well-meaning believers realize the first danger, they begin to form a hatred for the sciences themselves rather than differentiating between the subject and its adherents. The Imam said, “The second evil likely to follow from the study of the mathematical sciences derives from the case of an ignorant friend of Islam who supposed that our religion must be championed by the rejection of every science ascribed to the philosophers…”
This mentality, the rejection of scientific research, whether it be in the natural or social sciences, is also very dangerous. Islam teaches us to take what is good and leave what is bad.

What to Do
So what should a Muslim do in such circumstances? There is no easy answer to that question. The Muslim perception is that everyone ‘needs’ a good (secular) education nowadays and there will naturally be some risks. If we concede the correctness of that ‘need’, the real solution will have to be a long term one, where practicing Muslims end up teaching the sciences, thus cutting off both evils from the root.

In the meantime, we can follow the words of the son-in-law of the Prophet ﷺ: “Don’t know the truth by men. Rather, know the truth and you will know its adherents.”