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It was at that time, too, that the attitude of toleration and good opinion between the Schools became universally accepted. This was formulated by Imam al-Ghazali, himself the author of four textbooks of Shafi'i fiqh, and also of Al-Mustasfa, widely acclaimed as the most advanced and careful of all works on usul usul al-fiqh fil madhhab (Ihya Ulum al-Din, III, 65) While it was necessary for the Muslim to follow a recognised madhhab in order to avert the lethal danger of misinterpreting the sources, he must never fall into the trap of considering his own school categorically superior to the others. With a few insignificant exceptions, the great scholars of Sunni Islam have followed the ethos outlined by Imam al-Ghazali, and have been conspicuously respectful of each others madhhab. Anyone who has studied under traditional ulama will be well-aware of this fact.
The evolution of the Four Schools did not stifle, as some Orientalists have suggested, the capacity for the refinement or extension of positive law. On the contrary, sophisticated mechanisms were available which not only permitted qualified individuals to derive the Shariah from the Quran and Sunnah on their own authority, but actually obliged them to do this. According to most scholars, an expert who has fully mastered the sources and fulfilled a variety of necessary scholarly conditions is not permitted to follow the prevalent rulings of his School, but must derive the rulings himself from the revealed sources. Such an individual is known as a mujtahid, a term derived from the famous hadith of Muadh ibn Jabal.
Few would seriously deny that for a Muslim to venture beyond established expert opinion and have recourse directly to the Quran and Sunnah, he must be a scholar of great eminence. The danger of less-qualified individuals misunderstanding the sources and hence damaging the Shariah is a very real one, as was shown by the discord and strife which afflicted some early Muslims, and even some of the Companions themselves, in the period which preceded the establishment of the Orthodox Schools. Prior to Islam, entire religions had been subverted by inadequate scriptural scholarship, and it was vital that Islam should be secured from a comparable fate.
In order to protect the Shariah from the danger of innovation and distortion, the great scholars of usul laid down rigorous conditions which must be fulfilled by anyone wishing to claim the right of ijtihad for himself. These conditions include:
- mastery of the Arabic language, to minimise the possibility of misinterpreting Revelation on purely linguistic grounds;
- a profound knowledge of the Quran and Sunnah and the circumstances surrounding the revelation of each verse and hadith, together with a full knowledge of the Quranic and hadith commentaries, and a control of all the interpretative techniques discussed above;
- knowledge of the specialised disciplines of hadith, such as the assessment of narrators and of the matn [text];
- knowledge of the views of the Companions, Followers and the great imams, and of the positions and reasoning expounded in the textbooks of fiqh, combined with the knowledge of cases where a consensus (ijma) has been reached;
- knowledge of the science of juridical analogy (qiyas), its types and conditions;
- knowledge of ones own society and of public interest (maslahah);
- knowing the general objectives (maqasid) of the Shariah;
- a high degree of intelligence and personal piety, combined with the Islamic virtues of compassion, courtesy, and modesty.
A scholar who has fulfilled these conditions can be considered a mujtahid fil-shar, and is not obliged, or even permitted, to follow an existing authoritative madhhab. This is what some of the Imams were saying when they forbade their great disciples from imitating them uncritically. But for the much greater number of scholars whose expertise has not reached such dizzying heights, it may be possible to become a mujtahid fil-madhhab, that is, a scholar who remains broadly convinced of the doctrines of his school, but is qualified to differ from received opinion within it. There have been a number of examples of such men, for instance Imam al-Nawawi among the Shafi'is, Qadi Ibn Abd al-Barr among the Malikis, Ibn Abidin among the Hanafis, and Ibn Qudama among the Hanbalis. All of these scholars considered themselves followers of the fundamental interpretative principles of their own madhhabs, but are on record as having exercised their own gifts of scholarship and judgement in reaching many new verdicts within them. It is to these experts that the Mujtahid Imams directed their advice concerning ijtihad, such as Imam al-Shafi'i's instruction that if you find a hadith that contradicts my verdict, then follow the hadith. It is obvious that whatever some writers nowadays like to believe, such counsels were never intended for use by the Islamically-uneducated masses.
Other categories of mujtahids are listed by the usul scholars; but the distinctions between them are subtle and not relevant to our theme. The remaining categories can in practice be reduced to two: the muttabi (follower), who follows his madhhab while being aware of the Quranic and hadith texts and the reasoning, underlying its positions, and secondly the muqallid (emulator), who simply conforms to the madhhab because of his confidence in its scholars, and without necessarily knowing the detailed reasoning behind all its thousands of rulings.
Clearly it is recommended for the muqallid to learn as much as he or she is able
of the formal proofs of the madhhab. But it is equally clear that not every Muslim
can be a scholar. Scholarship takes a lot of time, and for the ummah to function
properly most people must have other employment: as accountants, soldiers, butchers,
and so forth. As such, they cannot reasonably be expected to become great ulama
as well, even if we suppose that all of them have the requisite intelligence.
The Holy Quran itself states that less well-informed believers should have recourse
to qualified experts: So ask the people of remembrance, if you do not know (16:43).
(According to the tafsir experts, the people of remembrance are the ulama.) And
in another verse, the Muslims are enjoined to create and maintain a group of
specialists who provide authoritative guidance for non-specialists: A band from
each community should stay behind to gain instruction in religion and to warn
the people when they return to them, so that they may take heed (9:122). Given
the depth of scholarship needed to understand the revealed texts accurately,
and the extreme warnings we have been given against distorting the Revelation,
it is obvious that ordinary Muslims are duty bound to follow expert opinion,
rather than rely on their own reasoning and limited knowledge. This obvious duty
was well-known to the early Muslims: the Caliph Umar (r.a.) followed certain
rulings of Abu Bakr (r.a.), saying I would be ashamed before God to differ from
the view of Abu Bakr. And Ibn Masud (r.a.), in turn, despite being a mujtahid
in the fullest sense, used in certain issues to follow Umar (r.a.). According
to al-Shabi: Six of the Companions of the Prophet (pbuh) used to give fatwas
to the people: Ibn Masud, Umar ibn al-Khattab, Ali, Zayd ibn Thabit, Ubayy ibn
Kab, and Abu Musa (al-Ashari). And out of these, three would abandon their own
judgements in favour of the judgements of three others: Abdallah (ibn Masud)
would abandon his own judgement for the judgement of Umar, Abu Musa would abandon
his own judgement for the judgement of Ali, and Zayd would abandon his own judgement
for the judgement of Ubayy ibn Kab.
This verdict, namely that one is well-advised to follow a great Imam as ones guide to the Sunnah, rather than relying on oneself, is particularly binding upon Muslims in countries such as Britain, among whom only a small percentage is even entitled to have a choice in this matter. This is for the simple reason that unless one knows Arabic, then even if one wishes to read all the hadith determining a particular issue, one cannot. For various reasons, including their great length, no more than ten of the basic hadith collections have been translated into English. There remain well over three hundred others, including such seminal works as the Musnad of Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal, the Musannaf of Ibn Abi Shayba, the Sahih of Ibn Khuzayma, the Mustadrak of al-Hakim, and many other multi-volume collections, which contain large numbers of sound hadiths which cannot be found in Bukhari, Muslim, and the other works that have so far been translated. Even if we assume that the existing translations are entirely accurate, it is obvious that a policy of trying to derive the Shariah directly from the Book and the Sunnah cannot be attempted by those who have no access to the Arabic. To attempt to discern the Shariah merely on the basis of the hadiths which have been translated will be to ignore and amputate much of the Sunnah, hence leading to serious distortions.
Let me give just two examples of this. The Sunni Madhhabs, in their rules for
the conduct of legal cases, lay down the principle that the canonical punishments
(hudud) should not be applied in cases where there is the least ambiguity, and
that the qadi should actively strive to prove that such ambiguities exist. An
amateur reading in the Sound Six collections will find no confirmation of this.
But the madhhab ruling is based on a hadith narrated by a sound chain, and recorded
in theMusannaf of Ibn Abi Shayba, the Musnad of al-Harithi, and the Musnad of
Musaddad ibn Musarhad. The text is: "Ward off the hudud by means of ambiguities." Imam al-Sanani, in his book Al-Ansab, narrates the circumstances of this hadith: "A
man was found drunk, and was brought to Umar, who ordered the hadd of eighty
lashes to be applied. When this had been done, the man said: Umar, you have wronged
me! I am a slave! (Slaves receive only half the punishment.) Umar was grief-stricken
at this, and recited the Prophetic hadith, Ward off the hudud by means of ambiguities."
Another example pertains to the important practice, recognised by the madhhabs, of performing sunnah prayers as soon as possible after the end of the Maghrib obligatory prayer. The hadith runs: Make haste to perform the two rakas after the Maghrib, for they are raised up (to Heaven) alongside the obligatory prayer. The hadith is narrated by Imam Razin in his Jami.
Because of the traditional pious fear of distorting the Law of Islam, the overwhelming majority of the great scholars of the past - certainly well over ninety-nine percent of them - have adhered loyally to a madhhab. It is true that in the troubled fourteenth century a handful of dissenters appeared, such as Ibn Taymiyyah and Ibn al-Qayyim; but even these individuals never recommended that semi-educated Muslims should attempt ijtihad without expert help. And in any case, although these authors have recently been resurrected and made prominent, their influence on the orthodox scholarship of classical Islam was negligible, as is suggested by the small number of manuscripts of their works preserved in the great libraries of the Islamic world.
Nonetheless, social turbulences have in the past century thrown up a number of
writers who have advocated the abandonment of authoritative scholarship. The
most prominent figures in this campaign were Muhammad Abduh and his pupil Muhammad
Rashid Rida. Dazzled by the triumph of the West, and informed in subtle ways
by their own well-documented commitment to Freemasonry, these men urged Muslims
to throw off the shackles of taqlid, and to reject the authority of the Four
Schools. Today in some Arab capitals, especially where the indigenous tradition
of orthodox scholarship has been weakened, it is common to see young Arabs filling
their homes with every hadith collection they can lay their hands upon, and poring
over them in the apparent belief that they are less likely to misinterpret this
vast and complex literature than Imam al-Shafi'i, Imam Ahmad, and the other great
Imams. This irresponsible approach, although still not widespread, is predictably
opening the door to sharply divergent opinions, which have seriously damaged
the unity, credibility and effectiveness of the Islamic movement, and provoked
sharp arguments over issues settled by the great Imams over a thousand years
ago. It is common now to see young activists prowling the mosques, criticising
other worshippers for what they believe to be defects in their worship, even
when their victims are following the verdicts of some of the great Imams of Islam.
The unpleasant, Pharisaic atmosphere generated by this activity has the effect
of discouraging many less committed Muslims from attending the mosque at all.
No-one now recalls the view of the early ulama, which was that Muslims should
tolerate divergent interpretations of the Sunnah as long as these interpretations
have been held by reputable scholars. As Sufyan al-Thawri said: If you see a
man doing something over which there is a debate among the scholars, and which
you yourself believe to be forbidden, you should not forbid him from doing it.
The alternative to this policy is, of course, a disunity and rancour which will
poison and cripple the Muslim community from within.
In a Western-influenced global culture in which people are urged from early childhood to think for themselves and to challenge established authority, it can sometimes be difficult to muster enough humility to recognise ones own limitations. We are all a little like Pharaoh: our egos are by nature resistant to the idea that anyone else might be much more intelligent or learned than ourselves. The belief that ordinary Muslims, even if they know Arabic, are qualified to derive rulings of the Shariah for themselves, is an example of this egotism running wild. To young people proud of their own judgement, and unfamiliar with the complexity of the sources and the brilliance of authentic scholarship, this can be an effective trap, which ends by luring them away from the orthodox path of Islam and into an unintentional agenda of provoking deep divisions among the Muslims. The fact that all the great scholars of the religion, including the hadith experts, themselves belonged to madhhabs, and required their students to belong to madhhabs, seems to have been forgotten. Self-esteem has won a major victory here over common sense and Islamic responsibility.
The Holy Quran commands Muslims to use their minds and reflective capacities;
and the issue of following qualified scholarship is an area in which this faculty
must be very carefully deployed. The basic point should be appreciated that no
categoric difference exists between usul al-fiqh and any other specialised science
requiring lengthy training. Shaykh Said Ramadan al-Buti, who has articulated
the orthodox response to the anti-Madhhab trend in his book: Non-Madhhabism:
The Greatest Bida Threatening the Islamic Sharia, likes to compare the science
of deriving rulings to that of medicine. "If ones child is seriously ill", he asks, "does one look for oneself in the medical textbooks for the proper diagnosis and cure, or should one go to a trained medical practitioner?" Clearly,
sanity dictates the latter option. And so it is in matters of religion, which
are in reality even more important and potentially hazardous: we would be both
foolish and irresponsible to try to look through the sources ourselves, and become
our own muftis. Instead, we should recognise that those who have spent their
entire lives studying the Sunnah and the principles of law are far less likely
to be mistaken than we are.
Another metaphor might be added to this, this time borrowed from astronomy. We might compare the Quranic verses and the hadiths to the stars. With the naked eye, we are unable to see many of them clearly; so we need a telescope. If we are foolish, or proud, we may try to build one ourselves. If we are sensible and modest, however, we will be happy to use one built for us by Imam al-Shafi'i or Ibn Hanbal, and refined, polished and improved by generations of great astronomers. A madhhab is, after all, nothing more than a piece of precision equipment enabling us to see Islam with the maximum clarity possible. If we use our own devices, our amateurish attempts will inevitably distort our vision.
A third image might also be deployed. An ancient building, for instance the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, might seem imperfect to some who worship in it. Young enthusiasts, burning with a desire to make the building still more exquisite and well-made (and no doubt more in conformity with their own time-bound preferences), might gain access to the crypts and basements which lie under the structure, and, on the basis of their own understanding of the principles of architecture, try to adjust the foundations and pillars which support the great edifice above them. They will not, of course, bother to consult professional architects, except perhaps one or two whose rhetoric pleases them nor will they be guided by the books and memoirs of those who have maintained the structure over the centuries. Their zeal and pride leaves them with no time for that. Groping through the basements, they bring out their picks and drills, and set to work with their usual enthusiasm.
There is a real danger that Sunni Islam is being treated in a similar fashion. The edifice has stood for centuries, withstanding the most bitter blows of its enemies. Only from within can it be weakened. No doubt, Islam has its intelligent foes among whom this fact is well-known. The spectacle of the disunity and fitnas which divided the early Muslims despite their superior piety, and the solidity and cohesiveness of Sunnism after the final codification of the Shariah in the four Schools of the great Imams, must have put ideas into many a malevolent head. This is not to suggest in any way that those who attack the great madhhabs are the conscious tools of Islams enemies. But it may go some way to explaining why they will continue to be well-publicised and well-funded, while the orthodox alternative is starved of resources. With every Muslim now a proud mujtahid, and with taqlid dismissed as a sin rather than a humble and necessary virtue, the divergent views which caused such pain in our early history will surely break surface again. Instead of four madhhabs in harmony, we will have a billion madhhabs in bitter and self-righteous conflict. No more brilliant scheme for the destruction of Islam could ever have been devised.
© Abdal-Hakim Murad
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