American Journal of Islam and Society Vol 39 No 3-4.indb


206

Muslim Intellectual History: A Survey

S A U L A T  P E R V E Z

Abstract
This article strives to chart the intellectual history of Muslims 
and the trans-civilizational, discursive tradition of Islam spanning 
fourteen centuries. It chronicles the scholarly projects shaping 
Islamic thought as they developed in the wake of the Prophet’s 
(s) death and intensified in the ensuing centuries despite the 
numerous changes and tumultuous times the Muslim ummah 
encountered. Together with an accompanying map and visual 
timeline, it endeavors to empower students of Islam in general and 
Islamic Studies programs in particular with an appreciation of the 

Saulat Pervez is a writer, researcher, and educator. She has worked at the Inter-
national Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT) in various capacities since 2015 and 
has attended many intensive Islamic Studies programs at IIIT and elsewhere. 
Along with studying the Islamic tradition and scholarship, her research in-
terest is in the field of education in the Global South. She is examining obsta-
cles to the formation of reading, writing, and thinking cultures in postcolonial 
educational systems due to social class and language disparities. She can be 
reached at saulat@iiit.org/spqalam@ymail.com. 

Pervez, Saulat. 2022. “Muslim Intellectual History: A Survey.” American Journal of Islam and Socie-
ty 39, nos. 3-4: 206–272 • doi: 10.35632/ajis.v39i3-4.2332
Copyright © 2022 International Institute of Islamic Thought



F O R U M     207

breadth and depth of Muslim intellectual history. The article begins 
by tracing the foundation of early regional centers, the side-by-
side formation of disciplines, the development of the various legal 
schools as well as the many strains of Islamic thought, and how 
they not only influenced one another but also became absorbed 
into mainstream Islam, ending with an overview of the impact 
of modernity on Islamic thought. Through this effort, I hope that 
students will be able to cultivate a rudimentary understanding of 
Islamic scholarship in its historical context, make interdisciplinary 
connections, critically engage with the individual disciplines in 
their focused study, and gain an overall nuanced reverence for the 
collective Muslim intellectual legacy across 1400 years along with 
the diversified scholarly struggles to diligently honor and observe 
the message received from the Prophet Muhammad (s).

Introduction

Muslim intellectual history is rich and complex. It started as a simple 
effort to continue to live according to the Sunnah in the aftermath of the 
Prophet’s (s) death, became refined over time, and also branched into new 
directions even as it remained grounded in core revelatory concepts. Yet, 
too often, students of Islam in general and Islamic Studies programs in 
particular learn the core disciplines of Qur’an, hadith, and fiqh along with 
secondary subjects such as Sufism, theology, and philosophy as discrete 
blocks of knowledge. While these are fundamental to any curriculum 
devoted to introducing students to Islamic sciences, their gains in learning 
can be ahistorical and devoid of context. Frequently, such programs rely 
on the previous knowledge of students to make important connections 
that may or may not be possible due to the diversity in student population 
and their uneven prior exposure to Islam. Moreover, they do not enable 
students to truly understand the evolution of inherited knowledge and the 
interdisciplinary exchanges that took place historically, thereby making 
it difficult to see their relevance in today’s day and age.

Whereas students are taught ʿulum al-Qur’an, ʿulum al-hadith, 
and fiqh as distinct disciplines, they actually developed in tandem and 



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impacted one another in lasting ways; these linkages are evident when we 
hear the same scholarly names recurrently mentioned in ʿ ulum al-hadith, 
fiqh, and usul al-fiqh courses. Furthermore, the ‘ulama (religious scholars) 
continued to be affected by internal debates as shaped by external factors. 
While most of these ideas were at first considered strange and deviating 
from the norm, eventually many were absorbed into mainstream Islamic 
thought, as shown throughout the article. Scholars, teachers, and imams 
sometimes allude to these phenomena but these connections are often 
glossed over due to limitations of time or the need to focus on the subject 
at hand. Hence, the objective of this survey is to closely follow the trajec-
tory of Muslim intellectual history with the purpose of illuminating these 
interactions and the outcomes they produced so that students are able to 
grasp the historical debates and shifts that have resulted in our present 
received knowledge as well as the salient narratives today.

In accomplishing this goal, I benefited immensely from contemporary 
academic texts in English and relied on this literature heavily to piece 
together the story of Muslim intellectual history; one can see the range 
of these resources in the endnotes. Early on, it became clear to me that, 
contrary to what many people may naturally think, it was hadith not the 
Qur’an that became the crux around which much of Islamic scholarship 
and intra-Muslim debates formed in the early period of our intellectual 
history. The Qur’an had become fixed during the caliphate of ‘Uthman 
(ra) and it was the far more fluid hadith that led to disagreements, fiery 
debates, even persecutions. While the Qur’an is the unequivocal pri-
mary revelatory source in Islam, the importance of hadith in Islamic 
scholarship as a second revelatory source and a lens that explicates the 
Qur’an cannot be overemphasized. After all, the companions of Prophet 
Muhammad (s) had learned their religion from him and had taught it to 
others, who then taught it to yet others in a seamless chain of teachers 
from generation to generation over the course of centuries. Therefore, 
in both daily circumstances and extraordinary situations, the question 
often was and is: what did the Prophet (s) say and how had he acted? 
With hadith’s central place in Muslim intellectual history, it should not 
be surprising that the steady development of hadith sciences greatly 
impacted both jurisprudence and Qur’anic sciences. Indeed, scholarly 



F O R U M     209

perspectives on hadith continued to be relevant in the modern times 
and it remains a significant feature of scholarly analyses and communal 
conversations today. I have tried to capture this scholarly preoccupation 
with hadith in the survey which sometimes takes place in the form of one 
set of scholars minimizing it while another, in response, is maximizing it.

This survey is organized both chronologically and thematically. In 
narrating the events as a story, it begins with the death of the Prophet (s) 
and ends in contemporary times, highlighting and elucidating the various 
developments as they took place during the intervening 14 centuries. At 
the same time, when dealing with a thematic topic, related scholars are 
mentioned in groups spanning several centuries. The article follows the 
same pattern as an Islamic Studies program, with more time devoted to 
core disciplines than the various strains in Islamic thought such as theol-
ogy, philosophy, and mysticism. I hope that the background students learn 
in this survey will serve as a springboard for more in-depth and critical 
engagement when studying the sciences and topics individually. Lastly, the 
intellectual history presented in this article focuses on Sunni scholarship 
in the central Islamic lands. Considering that compiling a fully exhaustive 
list of every scholar in each field in the totality of Islamic tradition, even 
when restricted to Sunnis, is nearly an impossible task, this survey and the 
timeline only include salient features, trends, figures, and shifts. Moreover, 
scholars in our intellectual tradition were quite often polymaths who had 
mastery over multiple sciences and areas of knowledge; it is one of the lim-
itations of this survey that it does not encapsulate their full achievements 
but only highlights their contribution in one or two spheres.

The survey is accompanied with a visual timeline (see the QR code/link 
at the end of the article) which may be helpful in locating contemporaneous 
scholars across disciplines and appreciating the plurality of Islamic thought 
historically at any given time; it has a key with color-coded categories. 
Kindly note that the category in which each scholar is highlighted is based 
on their discussion in the survey (which only captures a small element of 
the vast and interdisciplinary contributions of these ‘ulama). The dates until 
1000 AH (around the beginning of the 17th century CE) are given as per the 
hijri calendar in both the survey and the timeline while the rest are accord-
ing to their Gregorian equivalent.1 All the dates, unless otherwise noted, 



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signify the years of death. The timeline also provides some dynastic and 
political context while the map highlights cities across the Muslim world.

Section I: The Regional Schools

The Prophet’s mosque in Madina was already the site of study circles 
(halaqas) during his lifetime, a practice which continued after his demise 
in 11 AH. These halaqas, which also took place in homes and public 
spaces, were now led by some of his companions whom people turned to 
when they had questions. Students eager to learn joined these esteemed 
personalities and themselves grew into teachers, earning disciples of 
their own who went on to become scholars,2 creating a chain of transmis-
sion known as “isnad”3 (not to be confused with the isnad4 of a hadith,5 
although the narrative concept is similar due to the oral nature of schol-
arship in early Islam). That is, initially, lessons were orally transmitted 
from teachers to students who often took notes. As such, memory played 
a very important role in transfer of ‘ilm (knowledge) between scholars 
and their disciples; knowledge was embodied by the scholar and could be 
accessed only through personal interaction. Due to the primitive nature 
of the Arabic script, written material was not considered authentic unless 
one had heard it from the author and was given permission to transmit 
it, creating an uninterrupted isnad (chain of transmission) extending 
from the author to successive generations of students. Even when books 
became common, the practice of a scholar reciting a text (samaʿ) or 
having students read it out loud (qira’a) continued for many centuries; 
in this way, teachers would ensure accuracy of student versions of the 
text which were either copied by hand by the students or bought from 
professional copyists. In the fifth century AH onwards, the practice of 
samaʿ was largely overtaken by ijaza (permission to transmit) which was 
issued by the teacher even if a student had only recited part of the book.6

In the aftermath of Prophet Muhammad’s (s) death, there emerged 
four regional centers of learning:

 y Makkah: ‘Abdullah ibn ‘Abbas (ra) is intimately linked with the 
Makkan circle. After a series of political appointments, he settled in 
Makkah where his students benefited from his vast knowledge of 



F O R U M     211

the Qur’an and the earliest recorded exegetical (tafsir) efforts took 
place.7 Ibn Abbas’s (d. 68) disciples, Ikrima (d. 104) and Sa’id ibn 
Jubayr (d. 95), traveled to other parts of the Muslim world and spread 
his knowledge. Later renowned teachers of Makkah were Ibn Jurayj 
(d. 150) and Sufyan ibn ‘Uyayna (d. 196).

 y Madina: An assortment of companions, such as Zayd ibn Thabit (ra), 
‘Ubayy ibn Kaʿb (ra), ‘A’isha (ra), Abu Hurayra (ra), Umm Salama 
(ra), and ‘Abdullah ibn ‘Umar (ra), laid the foundation of this school.8 
In contrast with the Makkan school, Qur’anic scribes Ubayy ibn 
Kaʿb (d. 20) and Zayd ibn Thabit (d. 51) were wary of indulging in or 
documenting tafsir for fear of proliferating flawed opinions or erro-
neous analyses9 and instead focused on preservation of the Sunnah of 
the Prophet (s)10 although reports about circumstances of revelation 
and meanings of certain words have survived.11 Incidentally, ‘A’isha 
(d. 58), Abu Hurayra (d. 58), and ‘Abdullah ibn ‘Umar (d. 73) were 
among the leading hadith transmitters.12 Their students, from among 
the tabi’in (successors), were called the Seven Sages of Madina and 
included Saʿid ibn al-Musayyib (d. 94), ‘Urwah ibn al-Zubayr (d. 
94), Qasim ibn Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr (d. 108), among others. 
Prominent female scholars were Mu’adha bint ‘Abdallah (d. 83) and 
‘Amra bint ‘Abd al-Rahman (d. 106); while both studied with ‘A’isha, 
the latter also learned from many female companions, such as Umm 
Salama (d. 64), and was consulted regularly by other fuqaha’. In this 
string of students who eventually became teachers from one gener-
ation to another, which also boasted such names as al-Zuhri (d.124) 
and Hisham ibn ‘Urwa (d. 145), came Malik ibn Anas (d. 179), one 
of the tabiʿ tabiʿin (successor of successors), after whom the Maliki 
madhhab (legal school) came to be known. By this time, the Madinan 
school had firmly established a traditionalist reputation focused on 
upholding the Sunnah of the Prophet (s) as enshrined in Madinan 
practice (‘amal).13 Malik ibn Anas’ students included al-Shafiʿi (d. 
204), the eponym of the Shafiʿi madhhab.

 y Kufa: Abdullah ibn Masʿud (ra) founded the Kufan center when 
he was dispatched there by Caliph Umar (ra) and was tasked with 
fostering Islamic learning in the city. Ibn Masʿud’s (d. 32) students 
were ‘Alqama ibn Qays (d. 62) and ‘Amir al-Shabi (d. 103). ‘Alqama’s 
student Ibrahim al-Nakha’i (d. 96) taught Hammad ibn Abi Sulayman 



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(d. 120) whose disciple, Abu Hanifa (d. 150), came to be known as the 
father of the Hanafi madhhab. While ‘Amir al-Shabi was a committed 
traditionalist in line with the Madinan school (known as Ahl al-Sun-
nah or Ahl al-Hadith, people of the Prophetic tradition or athar), and 
others who followed his conservative approach included Sulayman 
al-Aʿmash (d. 148) and Sufyan al-Thawri (d. 161),14 Ibrahim al-Nakha’i 
adopted a dialectical methodology which was refined over the next 
generations of scholars that were influenced by him; these scholars 
came to be called Ahl al-Ra’y (people of legal reasoning) because 
they were more interested in drawing jurisprudential conclusions 
through analogy and analysis than simply preserving Prophetic 
Sunnah.15 There was constant tension between the adherents of Ahl 
al-Hadith and Ahl al-Ra’y, with the latter being considered a deviant 
form of scholarship by the mainstream traditionalists. Nonetheless, 
Abu Hanifa and his students, Abu Yusuf (d. 182) and al-Shaybani (d. 
189), mastered the art of ra’y.

 y Basra: The female companion, Nusayba bint al-Harith (ra), relocated 
to Basra from Madina and taught there until she died in 22 AH. Anas 
ibn Malik (ra), one of the leading transmitters of hadith, also settled in 
Basra, a garrison town, in his old age. He taught Muhammad ibn Sirin 
(d. 110), Hafsa bint Sirin (d. ca. 100), and al-Hasan al-Basri (d. 110). 
Al-Hasan al-Basri had grown up in Madina where he received his 
early Islamic education and met many companions, such as Anas ibn 
Malik (d. 90). Al-Hasan was well-known for his inspiring sermons and 
constantly sought to instill a spiritual awareness in people, reminding 
them of the transient nature of earthly life, our ultimate purpose as 
revealed by God, and the reality of the hereafter.16 Another ascetic 
figure, Rabiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya (d. 185), was Basran and is renowned for 
her piety and renunciation of worldly pleasures. As such, the Basran 
school came to be seen as the precursor of later Sufi movements.

The above descriptions, however, do not adequately capture the inter-
actions between the scholars of different centers. For example, the student 
of Ibn Abbas, Saʿid al-Jubayr, also studied with ‘A’isha and Ibn ‘Umar in 
Madina and later moved to Kufa where he shared his wealth of knowledge 
with students of his own, returning to Makkah in his last years.17 Once the 
companion Abu al-Darda (ra, d. 32) joined his official post in Damascus 



F O R U M     213

during the caliphate of ‘Uthman (d. 35), he established a Qur’an study circle, 
thereby initiating the Damascus school. His wife, Umm al-Darda (d. 81), was 
also a respected scholar in Damascus whose classes were attended by the 
Caliph Abd al-Malik al-Marwan (r. 65-86).18 Al-Awzaʿi (d. 157) was a hadith 
scholar based in Syria too. When al-Zuhri, the famous Madinan successor 
who was renowned for his memory and transmission of hadiths, relocated 
to Damascus, his precious knowledge proliferated there.19 The slave Maʿmar 
ibn Rashid (d. 153) became his student and when Maʿmar later moved to 
Yemen, Abdul Razzaq al-Sinani (d. 211) came under his tutelage and he 
inscribed Maʿmar’s lectures in book form, thereby preserving the knowl-
edge Maʿmar had gained from al-Zuhri and his other teachers.20 According 
to some reports, it was the Abbasid Caliph al-Mansur (r. 136-158) who asked 
Malik ibn Anas to record the normative tradition of Madina which he did in 
the form of al-Muwatta,21 relying extensively on the reports he had learned 
from al-Zuhri.22 Al-Mansur also requested several Madinan scholars to 
travel to Baghdad to teach hadith to Abu Yusuf and other students of Abu 
Hanifa; likewise, the Kufan al-Shaybani was a student of Malik ibn Anas.23 
Al-Shafiʿi himself arrived in Baghdad as a disciple of Malik ibn Anas and 
debated al-Shaybani. Ahmad ibn Hanbal (d. 241), who was quickly being 
recognized as a master of hadith and would go on to be the force behind 
the Hanbali madhhab, was grateful for al-Shafiʿi’s eloquence and felt that 
finally someone had both the knowledge and quick-wittedness to chal-
lenge the Ahl al-Ra’y.24 It is reported that al-Shafiʿi learned hadith from 
Ibn Hanbal while teaching him jurisprudence.25 When al-Shafiʿi went to 
Egypt, he studied under Nafisa bint al-Hasan (d. 208), the great-great-grand-
daughter of the Prophet (s).26 As evident from the few names mentioned 
above, there was lively participation of female companions and successors 
in the scholarly circles. Women, just like men, enthusiastically shared the 
knowledge they had heard from their Prophet (s) with people flocking 
to them to listen and learn from them; some of the female students then 
became instructors themselves. Their teaching, however, was not restricted 
to hadith transmission only but included as well legal interpretations of 
reports meant to inculcate proper practice of Islam.27 Their reports were 
also routinely accepted in reaching legal rulings by their male counter-
parts.28 Moreover, the earliest and still functioning institution of learning, 



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al-Qarawiyyin University in Fez, Morocco, was founded by a female philan-
thropist, Fatima al-Fihri (d. 266), in 245 AH.

Section 2: The Civil Wars

At this point, we must acknowledge certain stark ground realities that 
scholars and the Muslim community as a whole had to grapple with. The 
first fitna (great trial; also known as civil war), which lasted from 35 to 40 
AH, started from the rebellion against Caliph ʿ Uthman, continued through 
the caliphate of ‘Ali (ra), and culminated in Muʿawiyyah (ra), the governor 
of Syria, establishing himself as the Caliph of the ummah (the entire global 
community of Muslims). Unrest was again triggered after Muʿawiyyah 
(d. 60) named his son, Yazid (d. 64), to the throne, initiating dynastic rule 
contrary to the custom of shura (consultation) established by the previous 
caliphs. It propelled al-Husayn (ra), the son of ‘Ali (d. 40) and the grandson 
of the Prophet (s), to reject this succession and resulted in the massa-
cre at Karbala by Yazid’s army and the beheading of al-Husayn (d. 61). 
Various other rebellions against governors also took place during and after 
the caliphate of Yazid, including the siege of Makkah after ‘Abdullah ibn 
Zubayr (ra) declared his caliphate. This second fitna ended in 73 AH after 
the Umayyads emerged as the victors with the martyrdom of Ibn Zubayr.29

The Kharijis were political rebels who separated from ‘Ali’s army 
in the Battle of Siffin (37 AH) and became an extremist fringe group. 
The Kharijis upheld the Qur’an as the sole guidance to be interpreted 
individually and without context, rejecting the authority of the Sunnah.30 
They not only assassinated ‘Ali but also reared their heads in the second 
fitna, causing sectarian divides. The ‘ulama were predominantly pro-ʿAli 
but acquiesced to the Umayyad rule in the interest of unity, particularly 
against the Khariji attacks and incursions.31 Dismissing Umayyad Qadari 
claims32 that implied fatalism, i.e., that their victory over ‘Ali was des-
tined by God, scholars mostly practiced irjaʿ (suspension of judgement) 
and relegated to God the decision of who was right between the compan-
ions.33 Yet, this did not mean that the relationship between the scholars 
and the ruling elite was fully peaceful. In fact, many fuqaha’ participated 
in the rebellions during the second fitna and paid the price for it by being 



F O R U M     215

executed, imprisoned, or going into hiding. Others were able to pacify 
the politicians and win their freedom.34 Overall, the Umayyads were not 
universally opposed by the scholars, nor did they indiscriminately assail 
the scholarly class for their pro-ʿAli sentiments: “The scholars as well 
as the rulers could tolerate a range of opinions and attitudes.”35 Notable 
among the Umayyad rulers was ‘Umar ibn ‘Abd al-Aziz (r. 99-101) whose 
enthusiastic support for traditionalist scholarly pursuits and encour-
agement for the preservation of the Sunnah resulted in the formation of 
sirah (biography) of the Prophet (s) as a field of knowledge, something 
discouraged by previous Umayyad caliphs.36 Ibn Ishaq (d. 151) is well-
known as the author of an early sirah text.

The third fitna took place between 126 and 132 AH due to inter-Uma-
yyad civil wars and the simmering discontent against the ruling 
Marwanid family of the Umayyads turning into a concerted effort to oust 
them largely in the name of ‘Ali and his family. Known as the Abbasids, 
titled after the clan of the Prophet’s (s) uncle, al-ʿAbbas (ra), they defeated 
the Umayyads in 132 AH and installed a khalifa (caliph) who, contrary 
to the original claims, was not from the descendants of ‘Ali, thereby 
angering them.37 Hence, the partisans (shiʿa) of ‘Ali splintered from the 
collective piety-minded coalition who had helped bring the Abbasids to 
power, while those who accepted their rule with the hope of unifying 
the ummah formed the Ahl al-Sunnah wal-Jamaʿah (those who adhere 
to the Sunnah and unite upon it).38 Until this time, there hadn’t been a 
formal Shiʿa-Sunni differentiation among the early scholars, many of 
whom had shared pro-ʿAli sentiments along with a general reverence for 
all the khulafa-e-rashidun (the rightly-guided caliphs).39 While the Sunnis 
vested their religious authority in the ‘ulama’, the Shiʿa saw the family 
of the Prophet (s) as the vessel of continued esoteric knowledge and con-
ferred special status on their descendants, calling them imams (leaders).40 
Over time, the Shiʿa Muslims further branched into several sects, with 
the Imami or Twelver Shiʿas forming the majority along with smaller 
groups such as the Ismaʿilis and the Zaydis. The bulk of the Shiʿa came 
to believe that the following 12 imams were divinely directed members 
of the Prophet’s family and held the authority to interpret the Qur’an 
and Sunnah: ‘Ali, al-Hasan (d. 50), al-Husayn, ‘Ali Zayn al-ʿAbideen (d. 



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94), Muhammad al-Baqir (d. 114), Jaʿfar al-Sadiq (d. 147), Musa al-Kazim 
(d. 183), ‘Ali al-Rida (d. 203), Muhammad al-Taqi (d. 220), ‘Ali al-Naqi (d. 
254), al-Hasan al-ʿAskari (d. 260), and Muhammad al-Mahdi (the Hidden 
Imam).41 In addition, prominent Shiʿa scholars over the centuries have 
included Hakima bint al-Iman al-Jawad (d. 274), Kashshi (d. 339), Ibn 
Babawayh (d. 380), Shaykh al-Mufid (d. 413), al-Tusi (d. 458), Jamal al-Din 
ibn Tawus (d. 673), al-Shahid at-Thani (d. 965), Muhammad Sadr ad-Din 
al-Shirazi (d. 1640), and Fatemeh Kashani (d. 1702).

Section 3: Hadith Scholarship

The politically tumultuous situation impacted the ‘ulama in numerous 
ways. Aside from the tricky predicament of choosing sides, defining their 
own stances, and explicating the religious ramifications of Umayyad 
actions as mentioned above, they had to constantly strive to affirm the 
authority of the Prophet (s) and preserve his Sunnah. This became an 
urgent matter in the face of Khariji and later Mu’tazili (see below) empha-
sis on the uncontested legitimacy of the Qur’an alone.42 Due to competing 
political interests and the various sides vying for influence, there was 
also an upsurge in fabricated traditions attributed to the Prophet (s) in 
the aftermath of the second fitna.43 The Qur’an had become fixed during 
the caliphate of ‘Uthman44 but hadith proved to be a far more fluid terrain 
because, unlike the Qur’an, the Prophet (s) discouraged the writing of 
hadith as he did not want his words to be mistakenly conflated with the 
Qur’an.45 Just as hadith was used to advance political and sectarian agen-
das,46 so was Qur’anic exegesis47 and the task fell to the ‘ulama to maintain 
the authenticity of the former and uphold the correct interpretation of the 
latter. As such, beginning in the late Umayyad and early Abbasid period, 
a “self-aware scholarly and educated class (al-khassa) appeared which 
began distinguishing itself from the masses (al-ʿamma).”48

The companions would often simply say, “The Prophet (s) said…” 
without identifying who they heard his words from.49 After all, there 
were other companions to verify them; we see this in the many correc-
tions ‘A’isha made of prophetic reports, for instance.50 However, after 
their passing, there began appearing forged reports that were highly 



F O R U M     217

political and contentious in nature, mirroring the unfolding of tumul-
tuous events described above.51 In order to sift through and find reliable 
hadiths, ‘ulama started asking, “Whom did you hear it from?” Hadith 
collectors began traveling from city to city to gather and record hadiths, 
tracing their full isnads.52 ‘Abdullah ibn Mubarak (d. 181),53 a famous 
hadith collector and critic, reportedly said, “The isnad is part of religion, 
if not for the isnad, whoever wanted could say whatever they wanted.”54 
Notably, women were not known for narrating any fabricated hadiths.55 
However, the increasing “professionalization” of hadith transmission, 
marked by demanding journeys (rihlas) and stringent criteria for veri-
fication of narrators, became unsuitable for female participation in this 
endeavor, leading to an overall decline in their hadith activity for the 
next two and a half centuries.56 While traditionalists and hadith scholars 
began focusing on scrutinizing hadith literature, the Kufan scholar Abu 
Hanifa, like his predecessors, preferred to rely only on well-known had-
iths and his own legal reasoning (ra’y).57 It was his way of inoculating 
his responses and decisions from fraudulent hadiths. His students, Abu 
Yusuf and al-Shaybani, followed suit. Even though the traditionalists saw 
their approach as radical and lax, the Abbasids began favoring all sorts 
of erudite activities, such as ra’y and kalam (rational theology), as the 
nascent Muslim empire suddenly found itself in a considerably advanced 
intellectual milieu in its conquered lands.58

Meanwhile, al-Shafiʿi traveled from Makkah to Madina to study 
under the towering scholarship of the traditionalist Malik ibn Anas, 
who had compiled al-Muwatta, containing hadiths, sayings of the com-
panions, and opinions of early scholars, including himself.59 Instead of 
the general practice of students copying notes based on their teacher’s 
judgements and justifications which would then be collected and made 
available as Masa’il, Malik captured the “full range of discrete topics 
in a deliberate and systematic arrangement” in one volume which was 
divided by chapters.60 Indicative of the intimate connection between the 
development of the hadith and fiqh disciplines, al-Muwatta essentially 
was the “first compendium of Islamic law” and the first “book of hadith 
organized according to subject matter.”61 Yet, it also represented how 
Islam was originally practiced as the living, non-textual Sunnah of the 



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Prophet (s), the companions, and other authoritative figures until Malik’s 
time. As such, Malik held the ‘amal (practice) of Madina in great esteem 
– so much so that he believed it was a better measure for identifying 
Islamic legal parameters than the textual hadiths – and felt that the “way 
things are done here” should be replicated everywhere else as Islam 
spread.62 Al-Shafiʿi had obtained a copy of al-Muwatta and memorized 
it before arriving in Madina, where he stayed under Malik’s tutelage 
most likely until his teacher’s death.63 In 184 AH, al-Shafiʿi journeyed to 
Baghdad, the newly founded capital of the Abbasids. Here, he encoun-
tered both Ahl al-Ra’y as well as theologians (mutakallimun, those who 
practiced kalam) and his engagements with both had a profound impact 
on the development of his own ideas. Al-Shafiʿi criticized the theologians 
for demanding certainty and prioritizing consensus to the exclusion of 
differences of opinion, recognizing that law was the proper vehicle to 
accommodate diversity and plurality through interpretive methods.64 On 
the other hand, he experienced firsthand the dialectic power of ra’y but 
was dismayed when its proponents would at times ignore authenticated 
hadiths in favor of their reasoning.65 He realized that they represented 
the localized Kufan legal approach, just as Malik rooted his legal thought 
in the ‘amal of the Madinan people.66 Instead of locating the normativity 
of a hadith in a particular place, such as Kufa or Madina, al-Shafiʿi would 
argue that the soundness of its isnad should determine normativity.67 
This view paralleled the efforts of hadith collectors who were willing to 
undertake great journeys and were bringing new verified reports with 
full isnads to the fore.68 This concern with authenticity is also evident 
at this time in the related science of history which was initially known 
as Maghazi (Expeditions of the Prophet (s))69 and later called sirah. 
Al-Maghazi by al-Waqidi (d. 207) displays this concern because, unlike 
Ibn Ishaq, he meticulously lists his sources and strives to corroborate 
them, which is likewise seen in the efforts of Ibn Hisham (d. 218) who 
revised Ibn Ishaq’s sirah to rid it of unverified content. Aban (d. 105), the 
son of ‘Uthman ibn ‘Affan, was one of the pioneers in this field. A later 
subgenre of historical scholarship was the Shama’il (prophetic virtues 
and characteristics); one of these books was written by Qadi ‘Iyad (d. 
544). Another subgenre focused on proofs that illustrated the prophetic 



F O R U M     219

standing of Muhammad (s); two renowned authors of this type of books 
were al-Hakim al-Nishapuri (d. 405) and his student, al-Bayhaqi (d. 458).

To al-Shafiʿi, coming into his own as a scholar, the regional tradi-
tions of Abu Hanifa and Malik did not seem viable for the ever-growing 
Muslim society. As shown by El Shamsy, the state of affairs in Egypt, where 
al-Shafiʿi spent his last years and revised his ar-Risala (The Message), was a 
case in point. Egypt’s Arab elites, descendants of the original conquerors, 
enjoyed a high status and came to represent a communal normative culture, 
a “distinctly Egyptian form of Malikism”;70 they were also economically 
superior, since they received a state pension in return for continuing service 
in the militia.71 This meant that Arab genealogy was paramount and even 
conversion to Islam did not afford many opportunities to (the non-Arab) 
locals unless they were able to establish clientage with an Arab.72 At the turn 
of the century, this neat social hierarchy was increasingly being threatened 
as non-Arabs began to increase and learned alternate ways to ascend to 
powerful political and intellectual positions.73 Moreover, Abbasid centraliz-
ing efforts wrested control of key communal affairs from the Egyptian Arab 
elites, including the judiciary, which had traditionally been locally sourced; 
the Abbasid appointment of a Hanafi judge was seen as an affront by the 
Maliki Egyptians. The Abbasids dispatched their own troops to bring order 
in Egypt, thereby eliminating the need for their pension and subsequently 
discontinuing it. This situation in Egypt further confirmed for al-Shafi‘i that 
the old order was dying and that a new approach which was grounded in 
textual (not communal) normativity was the need of the hour.74 Therefore, 
he proposed a system which foregrounded the Qur’an and the authentically 
transmitted Sunnah as revelatory sources75 followed by consensus (ijmaʿ) 
and qiyas (analogical reasoning). In doing so, he affirmed the traditional-
ist partiality for hadith while also creating room for controlled ra’y. This 
synthesis of the warring factions of ‘ulama proved to be revolutionary and 
came to be accepted in time by all four emerging legal schools (madhahib),76 
making al-Shafiʿi the father of usul al-fiqh (legal theory).77 Furthermore, 
by moving away from communal tradition and instead centering commu-
nal interpretation, al-Shafi‘i also shifted focus from Arab genealogy to the 
Arabic language itself, something which could be learned and mastered, 
thereby leveling the “playing field between Arabs and non-Arabs.”78 At the 



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same time, al-Shafiʿi paved the way for the scholarly class (al-khassa) as not 
only the guardians of tradition but also its interpreters, separate from the 
majority of people (al-ʿamma) who drew on prophetic tradition for largely 
charismatic reasons.79

Section 4: Formation of Legal Schools

In the mean time, Ahmad ibn Hanbal solidified his position as a tradi-
tionalist in Baghdad, focusing on promoting hadith and, unlike al-Shafiʿi, 
minimally relying on qiyas.80 He was known for his mild asceticism, 
impeccable character, and rejection of any government employment.81 
On the other hand, Abbasids gravitated towards the Ahl al-Ra’y ,who 
served as court-appointed qadis (judges), unlike their teacher Abu 
Hanifa, who had refused to do so. The intellectual-minded Abbasids, who 
inaugurated the House of Wisdom in 214 AH,82 were also increasingly 
drawn to the mutakallimun and their rational theology. The tradition-
alists, including Ahmad ibn Hanbal, were quite critical of kalam due to 
its advocates’ extra-revelatory contention that one’s intellect alone was 
capable of arriving at universal truths (such as the existence of God).83 
The Muʿtazilis84 in Iraq debated Christians in the name of defending 
Islam using the cosmological argument85 which goes back to Plato and 
Aristotle, finding a common language between Muslims and non-Mus-
lims. In rationally upholding God’s eternal and everlasting presence, 
though, they ended up denying core Qur’anic concepts, such as the attri-
butes of God and His Book’s timeless existence. The Muʿtazilis, influenced 
by their engagement with Christian theologians and Hellenistic ideas, 
insisted on the createdness of the Qur’an, in order to distinguish it from 
the exclusivity of God, which not only implied that its interpretation 
could be metaphorical and temporal but also diminished the authorita-
tiveness of Prophetic hadith as a means of understanding the Qur’an. 
The traditionalists, in contrast, persisted in asserting the uncreatedness 
of the Qur’an along with hadith as a revelatory source which indicated 
and clarified the meaning of the Qur’an.86 These two strands in Islamic 
thought co-existed despite palpable tensions, each side disparaging the 
other, until Caliph Ma’mun (r. 198-218) stepped in and made createdness 



F O R U M     221

of the Qur’an the official Abbasid stance, vowing to persecute anyone 
who opposed it, thereby launching the mihna (inquisition), which lasted 
from 218 AH through 234 AH; it was endorsed by subsequent khalifas 
until it was reversed by Caliph Mutawakkil (r. 232-247).

As a result of the mihna, many traditionalists, including followers 
of Malik and al-Shafiʿi, were mistreated, imprisoned, tortured, even 
executed. Along with the mutakallimun, the court-appointed Hanafis 
oversaw this persecution, further widening the rift between the Ahl 
al-Hadith and Ahl al-Ra’y.87 Ahmad ibn Hanbal was also imprisoned, 
interrogated, and flogged for refusing to accept the establishment’s 
stance. Even when he was released from prison, he continued to be 
harassed by the authorities and often lived in hiding for fear of fur-
ther reprisal.88 Regardless, he refused to shift from his principled stand, 
despite knowing the price he had to pay for it; this added to his already 
exceptional reputation, making him the face of the traditionalist oppo-
sition. When the mihna was officially discontinued, it signaled the 
traditionalists’ victory over the ruling elite, signifying that the authority 
to define orthodoxy rested with the ‘ulama, not the caliph.89 During this 
time, the traditionalists had gained much popular support too. However, 
this triumph was bittersweet because there was a distinct sense of loss, 
not only for the scholars that had died from torture but for those who 
had caved during the inquisition and tarnished their reputations. Ahmad 
ibn Hanbal emerged as the “unquestioned moral leader” of the tradi-
tionalists and he took a very stern approach towards these scholars.90 
The traditionalists began to purge their camp of Sunni mutakallimun91 
as well, with lafz al-Qur’an becoming a defining issue. This concept 
referred to the createdness of the “physical sound of the [Qur’an] being 
recited or its written form on a page,” and was accepted by some tradi-
tionalists and Sunni rationalists, although the most conservative voices 
among the traditionalists considered even this opinion to be hereti-
cal.92 Ahmad ibn Hanbal, and his most ardent followers after his death, 
claimed that anyone advocating lafz al-Qur’an as created was a Jahmi, 
thereby delegitimizing the position itself.93 Therefore, the aftermath of 
the mihna deepened divisions among the traditionalists, which explains 
the eventual formation of the Hanbali madhhab as distinct from the 



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Shafiʿi one (even though their scholarly networks had been interlinked). 
The Shafiʿis were more tolerant of Sunni mutakallimun; this is reflected 
in the madhhab’s evolution, where traditionalists and rationalists have 
co-existed whereas the Hanbali school’s trajectory has been mostly 
uniformly traditionalist.94 The Muʿtazilis declined and eventually lost 
all credibility among the Sunnis and assimilated into Shiʿa theology 
around the fifth hijri century.95

Up until now, we have seen the fundamental role the prophetic 
Sunnah has played in the fostering of initial Islamic legal thought and 
how approaches towards both became sophisticated due to cross-breed-
ing of ideas through scholarly engagement. The fields of hadith and fiqh 
(jurisprudence) are thus interdependent; it is no coincidence that jurists 
such as Malik ibn Anas and Ahmad ibn Hanbal were the hadith giants 
of their time as well. By the third century, the earlier zeal for hadith col-
lection had led to a three-tiered hadith criticism method: “demanding a 
source (isnad) … evaluating the reliability of that source, and … seeking 
corroboration for the hadith.”96 The faqih (jurist) relied on the authen-
ticity of hadith, whether as proven over time in communal practice (like 
Malik ibn Anas or Abu Hanifa) or through collection and criticism of 
reports (like al-Shafiʿi and Ahmad ibn Hanbal). As such, although hadith 
and fiqh eventually developed into distinct disciplines, they share an 
intimately connected history. Moreover, although the eponyms of legal 
schools developed their methodologies in their lifetimes, much of the 
work in terms of transmitting and refining their wealth of knowledge, 
including the formalization of each as a legal school, took place by their 
respective circle of students spanning generations, who preserved their 
teachers’ works, produced texts of their own explicating their teach-
ers’ approaches, and extended them with new cases, at times adopting 
strategies from a rival camp. For instance, just as al-Shafiʿi had accepted 
legal reasoning, we see the Ahl al-Ra’y integrating hadith sciences into 
jurisprudence in the third century, with the Hanafi jurist al-Thalji (d. 267) 
grounding his school’s legal methodology in hadith and recasting legal 
reasoning accordingly.97 In addition, subsequent generations of Hanbali 
scholars relied more on qiyas than their founding father. Individual 
Maliki jurists were also impacted by al-Shafiʿi’s methods, whereas Egypt 



F O R U M     223

eventually adopted the Shafiʿi madhhab. Al-Shafiʿi’s students spread his 
ideas far and wide, which led to these convergences across madhahib;98 
the task of scholars became easier with the availability of paper, causing 
a “knowledge explosion” in third and fourth centuries AH.99

The growing dependency on hadith led collectors to begin synthe-
sizing reports, thereby initiating the sahih (authentic) movement in the 
third century and the production of definitive volumes of hadith. The 
foremost of these were by al-Bukhari (d. 256) and Muslim (d. 261), fol-
lowed by their disciples and peers, Ibn Majah (d. 272), Abu Dawud (d. 
275), Tirmidhi (d. 278), and Nasa’i (d. 302), all interacting in the vibrant 
traditionalist Baghdad scene which also included Shafiʿi scholars along 
with Ibn Hanbal and his circle.100 They were motivated by the sentiment 
that there were now enough authenticated hadiths that scholars need 
not rely on weak ones in determining legal and doctrinal issues.101 Seen 
initially as deviating from the norm of transmission-based ‘ulama, who 
nonetheless relied on reports with problematic isnads to reach legal deci-
sions, the collections of al-Bukhari and Muslim were later studied and 
promoted by Shafiʿi scholars, eventually leading to their widespread 
recognition by all the legal schools in the fifth century.102 This was yet 
another step in solidifying the elite (al-khassa) position of scholars from 
the masses (al-ʿamma), for whom their “amateur hadith collection was 
a means of tying themselves to their Prophet.” With the success of the 
sahih movement, the authenticated compilations superseded personal 
compendia.103

An important consequence of the standardization of hadith collec-
tions was the resurgence in women scholarship in this arena in the 
late fourth century.104 While the early female transmitters “represent 
the localized reproduction of religious knowledge,” which eventually 
became obsolete in the zeal for hadith collection from all and sundry, 
the consolidation of hadith tradition in written texts gave women a 
more stabilized environment to contribute to this field once again.105 
Daughters usually learned hadith from their mothers, fathers, grand-
parents, and other family members, including husbands; early examples 
of fathers teaching their daughters are Sa‘id ibn al-Musayyib’s daugh-
ter who learned hadiths from him and Malik ibn Anas’s daughter who 



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memorized al-Muwatta; this became increasingly common and contrib-
uted to the revival of female scholarship.106 In Baghdad, Amat al-Wahid 
(d. 377) memorized the Qur’an, learned Shafiʿi fiqh, and narrated from 
her father while Amat al-Salam (d. 390), under her father’s guidance, 
became a hadith scholar.107 For the most part, women’s scholarship was 
focused on gaining expertise in hadith, which they then taught to both 
male and female students. Karima al-Marwaziyya (d. 463) in Makkah 
became a celebrated transmitter of Sahih al-Bukhari.108 Fatima al-Juzdani-
yya (d. 514) was renowned for her narration of al-Tabarani’s (d. 360) 
collections. Fatima b. Saʿd al-Khayr (d. 600) had the opportunity to learn 
from al-Juzdaniyya in Isfahan; she later settled in Egypt where there was 
much proliferation of hadith study.109 In Baghdad, Shuhda al-Katiba (d. 
574) and Tajanni al-Wahbaniyya (d. 575) were considered major hadith 
scholars; Shuhda was also a master calligrapher.110 Fatima al-Samarqa-
ndiyya (d. 578), on the other hand, was known for her legal acumen; her 
father, a scholar, married her to his faithful student, al-Kasani (d. 587), 
who became a famous jurist himself.111

The process of transmitting and collecting hadiths continued after 
the sahih movement, but during the fifth hijri century the hadith scholars 
began accepting the fact that recording hadiths in circulation was coming 
to an end.112 Focus shifted to explication of existing hadith collections 
which led to the development of the hadith commentary (sharh al-had-
ith) genre over time. Similar to Qur’anic tafsir (see below), the shuruh 
(commentaries) became an interdisciplinary site where the commenta-
tor relied on multiple sources of information (lexicology, legal precepts, 
scriptural verses, rationalist hermeneutics, history, and more) to advance 
a certain interpretation; at the same time, the hadith commentators also 
deployed more specialized methodologies such as biographies of the trans-
mitters, knowledge of various narrations of the hadiths, and analyses of 
the compilers’ editorial choices.113 Early commentaries addressed popular 
hadiths, obscure vocabulary, problematic isnad, and ambiguity in mean-
ing. Examples include al-Khattabi’s (d. 388) shuruh of Sunan Abi Dawud 
and Sahih al-Bukhari; Ibn Abd al-Barr’s (d. 463) commentary of Malik’s 
al-Muwatta, and al-Mazari’s (d. 536) sharh of Sahih Muslim.114 Subsequent 
hadith commentaries were more encyclopedic, with detailed analyses of 



F O R U M     225

each hadith along with explanation of their isnads and their organiza-
tion according to headings. The sharh of Sahih Muslim by al-Nawawi (d. 
676) and the famous commentary of Sahih al-Bukhari, Fath al-Bari, by 
Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani (d. 852) fall in this category.115 Shorter commentar-
ies also appeared and were more accessible for general readers, such as 
al-Zarkashi’s (d. 794) concise sharh of Sahih al-Bukhari and al-Haytami’s 
(d. 974) commentary of al-Nawawi’s renowned forty hadith collection.116 
Writing commentaries became a hallmark of reputable hadith scholars, 
an undertaking that enabled them to interact with the hadith tradition;117 
notable shuruh in the later period are by Ali Qari (d. 1606) of Makkah, 
al-Sindi (d. 1728) of Yemen, and the Indian al-Mubarakpuri (d. 1935). 
Topical hadith collections with editorial annotations also became com-
monplace; for instance, jurists such as al-Ishbili (d. 581), al-Maqdisi (d. 
600), and Ibn Daqiq al-ʿId (d. 702) devoted themselves to examining legal 
rulings in hadiths and discussing them in detail as part of the ahkam 
al-hadith (laws derived from hadith) genre.118 Takhrij was another genre 
that appeared in the seventh century AH onwards, which reviewed all the 
hadiths that had appeared in a previous scholarly work and discussed their 
reliability.119 Scholars who undertook such efforts included al-Mundhiri (d. 
656), Ibn al-Mulaqqin (d. 804), Zayn al-Din al-ʿIraqi (d. 806), and Shams 
al-Din al-Sakhawi (d. 902).

The prior acknowledgement of a shared methodology, forming 
the first principles of usul al-fiqh, followed by the approval of a shared 
body of hadith, provided not only a mutually agreed-upon worldview 
but also a common language across madhahib which was then used for 
inter-madhhab debates and polemics,120 each school solidifying its identity 
and entrenching its own positions over centuries.121 Yet, inter-madhhab 
scholarly engagement did occur and often led to hybridization of ideas 
and influence, just as it did with the regional centers in the early decades 
of Islamic scholarship. For example, Sufyan al-Thawri had been educated 
in Kufa but adopted the exegetical approach of Ibn ‘Abbas.122 Likewise, 
al-Hasan al-Basri was influenced by the Madinan Saʿid ibn al- Musayyib.123 
We continue to see this intermingling with al-Shafiʿi, who started out 
as a disciple of Malik ibn Anas but later evolved his own intellectual 
project. At times, the interaction did not necessarily lead to change of 



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affiliation. Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Hakam (d. 268), an Egyptian Maliki, 
was a student of al-Shafiʿi; despite being influenced by his teacher, he 
returned to formally practicing Malikism.124 On the contrary, al-Buwayti 
(d. 231) and al-Muzani (d. 264), two key students of al-Shafiʿi, embraced 
their teacher’s methods and left their earlier respective Maliki and 
Hanafi associations; in doing so, their particular approach represented 
the co-mingling of ideas across schools.125 The compilers of the sahih 
books were part of the diverse traditionalist network in Baghdad. For 
instance, both al-Bukhari and Muslim were students of Ibn Hanbal but 
did not like his flexibility in using weak hadith (which he preferred to 
qiyas, such was his traditionalist resolve),126 propelling them to identify 
and collect sahih hadiths only, a telling sign of their Shafiʿi teachers’ 
impression on them. Moreover, al-Tahawi (d. 321), who started out within 
the Shafiʿi circle, later switched to Hanafism. Incidentally, al-Tahawi’s 
al-Aqidah al-Tahawiyah has become the defining document explicating 
the basic traditionalist creed, irrespective of one’s madhhab; it represents 
the effects of al-Shafiʿi’s ideas through his heavy reliance on hadith as 
evidentiary support.127 Likewise, al-Ashʿari (d. 324) started out as a disci-
ple of Muʿtazilis in Basra but eventually abandoned that school in favor 
of the Sunni worldview; in defending the latter, however, he employed 
rationalist techniques, thereby founding the Ashʿari theological school 
and converging some of the Muʿtazili ideas as well as certain forms of 
theological reasoning itself into mainstream Islam (see Section 6).128

Section 5: Qur’anic Exegesis

The development of early Qur’anic tafsir (exegesis) was an integral part 
of hadith and, hence, orally transmitted.129 After all, the Prophet (s) was 
the very first exegete (mufassir) and his words together with circum-
stances of revelation (asbab al-nuzul) have reached us through reports by 
his companions.130 ‘Abdullah ibn ‘Abbas was considered to be the com-
panion with the foremost knowledge of the Qur’an; as outlined earlier, 
he, along with ‘Abdullah ibn Mas’ud and Ubayy ibn Kaʿb, et al., headed 
the initial regional schools. Despite being in different cities, their views 
were remarkably similar. This can be seen in their unanimous refusal to 



F O R U M     227

speculate about the mutashabbihat (ambiguous verses) as well as their bila 
kayf (without asking how) acceptance of God’s attributes.131 These teach-
er-companions employed their exceptional linguistic skills to explicate 
Qur’anic Arabic but often consulted other companions about meanings 
of arcane words.132 They greatly influenced the exegetical views of their 
disciples who continued their work. In addition to lexical explanations, 
their primary exegetical techniques were tafsir al-qur’an bil-qur’an (exe-
gesis of the Qur’an from the Qur’an),133 bil-sunnah (from the Prophetic 
Sunnah), and bi aqwal al-sahabah (from the sayings of the companions). 
Early tafsir activity was unstructured, partial, and synoptic,134 largely for 
the purposes of instruction in halaqas alongside answering people’s ques-
tions. It stayed this way through the generation of the successors (tabi’in). 
The tabi’ tabi’in (successors of successors), on the other hand, approached 
tafsir in a holistic manner, encompassing the entire Qur’an according to its 
chapter arrangement.135 The very first scholar to provide a verse-by-verse 
commentary of the Qur’an was Muqatil ibn Sulayman (d. 150).136

The Qur’an was the first book of Islam as well as Arabic literature.137 
The study of Qur’an, as evident through grammatical terminologies 
used in the earliest commentaries, led to the creation of the science of 
grammar.138 Caliph ‘Ali reportedly assigned his secretary, Abu’l Aswad 
al-Du’ali (d. 69), to record the basics of Arabic grammar in order to 
safeguard the language from corruption.139 Other grammarians followed, 
such as ‘Abdallah ibn Abi Ishaq (d. 117) and al-Kisa’i (d. 189), primarily 
in Kufa and Basra, but al-Sibawayhi (d. 180) is credited with writing the 
ultimate reference book of Arabic grammar in the classical period.140 
The grammarians developed very sophisticated techniques that became 
vital to the understanding of Qur’an. Lexicology and grammar were so 
central to early tafsir activities that exegeses were often lexical glosses.141 
Thus, philology was a crucial hermeneutical tool utilized by classical 
exegetes. It not only analyzed root words but also placed them in their 
pre-Islamic historic and linguistic contexts, probing the grammatical 
structure of verses and comparing usages of the same or similar terms 
across different verses.142 Nonetheless, mufassirs skillfully used their lin-
guistic acumen and interdisciplinary sources to bolster the overarching 
orthodox Qur’anic narrative. As such, exegetes did not deploy linguistic 



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analysis in an unrestricted way; rather, they tempered it by the larger 
objective of reinforcing the revelatory sources.143

Yet, Qur’an and hadith remained interdependent as prophetic reports 
continued to be employed as an exegetical tool. As such, the tafsir efforts 
of this initial time reflect the overall scholarly milieu as we have seen with 
hadith and fiqh, complete with inclusion of forged hadiths, lack of isnad 
in reports, unattributed opinions, and the deployment of sectarian and 
political agendas.144 Furthermore, the development of tafsir was unique 
because, unlike jurists, exegetes routinely utilized pagan literary refer-
ences as well as Judeo-Christian anecdotes (isra’iliyyat) in explicating 
Qur’anic verses and themes.145 This distinguishes the discipline from fiqh 
in an important way: since the Qur’anic content goes far beyond legal 
or dogmatic issues, exegetes relied on a variety of sources and were far 
more flexible than their stringent juristic counterparts.146 It also explains 
the presence of weak traditions in many hadith collections: in matters 
concerning morality and spirituality, scholars have been quite lenient 
in accepting reports even though they may have problematic isnads.147

Through tafsir, scholars also historicized the Qur’an using the sirah 
of Prophet Muhammad (s). This contextualization not only grounded 
the text in daily communal Muslim life but also facilitated the deduction 
of legal and moral guidance.148 At the same time, some tafasir (com-
mentaries), especially those associated with mystical and theological 
hermeneutics, focused predominantly on symbolic and allegorical inter-
pretations rather than historical readings of the text;149 this can be seen in 
the works of the Sufi al-Qushayri (d. 465), the Muʿtazili al-Zamakhshari 
(d. 538), and the theologian-philosopher Fakhr al-Din al-Razi (d. 606). 
‘Ulum al-Qur’an distinguishes between the two familiar strands of tafsir 
bil-ma’thur (exegesis based on tradition or athar) and tafsir bil-ra’y (exe-
gesis based on personal reasoning), the former being the traditionalist 
Sunni view that values exoteric (apparent) meaning and the latter encom-
passing theological and other groups that prefer esoteric (metaphorical) 
interpretation.150 However, mufassirs utilize interdisciplinary resources 
which are difficult to categorize in such binary classifications. For exam-
ple, the tafsir of al-Thaʿlabi (d. 425), who hailed from the fourth hijri 
century intellectual center of Nishapur, contains an abundance of pagan 



F O R U M     229

literary references and yet maintains the Sunni worldview.151 In addition, 
the genealogical tradition is an important feature of Qur’anic exegesis: 
each new exegete would first cite the interpretations of the previous 
mufassirs and then add his own views. This ensured continuity as well 
as inclusion of a plurality of interpretations.152 Hence, al-Qurtubi (d. 
671), whose commentary is generally considered to be tafsir bil-ma’thur, 
drew from, among others, al-Zamakhshari, who is usually associated 
with tafsir bil-ra’y.153 Therefore, considering the historiography of tafsir, 
these can be simplistic categories that neither fully encompass the rich 
and genealogical features of tafsir nor account for the core mainstream 
Sunni tafsir corpus for the better part of Muslim intellectual history.154 
Other noteworthy mufassirs included al-Wahidi (d. 468) of Nishapur, Ibn 
Attiya (d. 546) of al-Andalus, and the Persian al-Baydawi (d. 685).

Al-Shafiʿi’s conceptualization that gave prophetic reports a unique 
authority in law also impacted the exegetes. This is clearly evident in the 
esteemed tafsir of al-Tabari (d. 310), considered a magnum opus in its field, 
who argues along the same lines in his Introduction, which in itself uti-
lizes an authorial voice inaugurated by al-Shafiʿi through his theoretical 
works (compare, for instance, with the lecture notes published by Abu 
Hanifa’s students and Malik’s al-Muwatta which is simply a compilation 
of traditions and sayings;155 earlier Qur’anic commentaries were also pub-
lished in the form of lecture notes presenting a univocal voice as opposed 
to the multiple opinions included by al-Tabari).156 Likewise, following the 
trajectory of the hadith discipline, the fourth century saw a proliferation 
of tafasir grounded in authentic Islamic sources as opposed to pagan ref-
erences or isra’iliyyat. These included the works of the Persian mufassirs 
Ibn Abi Hatim (d. 327), Abu’l Shaykh (d. 369), and Ibn Mardawayh (d. 
410). However, with the integration of rational theology into mainstream 
Islam (see next section), the Sunni establishment embedded theological 
and literary tafasir in madrasa curricula rather than these traditional-
ist ones. For instance, al-Zamakhshari’s tafsir was part of the standard 
madrasa curriculum for many centuries.157 Ibn Kathir (d. 774) revived the 
traditionalist strain when he criticized the inclusion of inauthentic reports 
and isra’iliyyat in Qur’anic commentary;158 his teachers included al-Fazari 
(d. 729) and al-Mizzi (d. 742). Significantly, Ibn Kathir was a traditionalist 



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Shafiʿi who came in the wake of the many strides made by hadith sci-
ences, culminating in the sahih movement and the acceptance of these 
collections as definitive and permanent. As such, he evaluated the reports 
in al-Tabari and Ibn Abi Hatim’s works according to the hadith canon.159 
Al-Suyuti (d. 911) followed suit, centering isnad-based hadiths in his tafsir. 
Yet, the traditionalist exegetes remained on the periphery of the Sunni 
establishment until their works were resurrected and reprinted in the 
twentieth century.160 Today, Ibn Kathir’s tafsir is taught in universities as 
well as seminaries and has become accessible to the public in its abridged 
form, turning it into a “central text in the Arabic-Islamic world.”161

Tafsir, like sharh al-hadith, remains a robust field in the present 
age, but one of the contemporary approaches to tafsir has been the-
matic works that do not focus on the established order of the Qur’an 
but instead link verses from various sections according to main ideas 
identified by the writer.162 In addition, we find original tafasir in local 
languages reflecting indigenous contexts, as opposed to only the prolif-
eration of translated Arabic works which was the norm before.163

Section 6: The Synthesis of Rational Theology

The Muʿtazilis continued to teach after the mihna. With the emergence 
of Sunni mutakallimun, and despite traditionalist censure, efforts in 
rationalist theology – finding proofs for universal truths outside of the 
Qur’an and Sunnah in the quest for certitude – kept cropping up. The 
fact that al-Bukhari believed that lafz al-Qur’an, the recitation of the 
Qur’an, was created goes to show how pervasive kalam’s influence had 
become.164 However, it was al-Ashʿari’s reconciliation of orthodox Islamic 
concepts with kalam – along with the refinement of these ideas over the 
coming centuries – that brought it into the folds of accepted ideology. 
Rejecting the createdness of the Qur’an controversially espoused by 
Muʿtazilis, al-Ashʿari affirmed core traditionalist convictions such as 
accepting the essential attributes of God as actual, the punishment of 
the grave, the existence of heaven and hell, and that believers will see 
God in the hereafter.165 In giving this priority to revelation, al-Ashʿari 
nonetheless felt that it was necessary to provide evidentiary proofs and 



F O R U M     231

rational arguments rather than the usual “scriptural attestations” alone.166 
While the Muʿtazilis were overly focused on God’s transcendence and 
the traditionalists confined themselves to more apparent interpretations 
that in their extreme forms verged on anthropomorphism,167 al-Ashʿari 
sought a middle path which was neither excessively allegorical nor lit-
eral.168 In doing so, he shunned any comparisons or similitudes between 
God and His creation, and instead insisted that it was not possible for 
humans to understand the true nature of God’s attributes.169 His students 
and subsequent generations of scholars, such as al-Baqillani (d. 403) and 
Abu Ishaq al-Isfarayini (d. 418), took the overall theological framework 
created by al-Ashʿari and built upon it, clarifying and extending his 
arguments. Eventually, the Ashʿari conception of God became widely 
accepted among Sunnis, especially among the Malikis and Shafiʿis.

A contemporary of al-Ashʿari, al-Maturidi (d. 333), was developing 
his own theological critique of Muʿtazilis in Samarqand. He was influ-
enced by Abu Hanifa’s opinions that had spread to Central Asia, as well 
as Murjiʿism, which emerged from the concept of irjaʿ, the deferment of 
passing judgement on companions involved in the early fitnas. By now, 
it was known more by its transfigured implication, fully embraced by 
al-Maturidi, that one’s faith and actions were two separate things and 
the quality of the latter did not determine the sincerity of the former, 
with faith neither increasing nor decreasing.170 Here, he diverged from 
al-Ashʿari, who asserted that faith consisted of “both beliefs and acts, 
increasing and decreasing according to the righteousness of the latter”171 
(which was also the position of the traditionalists). Therefore, while 
Ashʿaris maintained the predestinarian view that God is the ultimate 
creator of all human acts, al-Maturidi asserted that although actions 
were decreed by God, humans are free to determine their own deeds.172 
Further, al-Maturidi conceded that the essential (e.g., omniscience and 
power) and the active (e.g., forgiveness and mercy) attributes of God 
were coeternal, whereas Ashʿaris only accepted the essential as such.173 
Al-Ashʿari argued that humans know the difference between good and 
evil through God’s revelation, whereas al-Maturidi stated that God has 
endowed humans with the capacity to distinguish between right and 
wrong through their reasoning guided by revelation. At the same time, 



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the two theologians shared their zeal for discrediting Mu’tazili ideology 
and foregrounding revelation as the basis for rational thought. In doing 
so, they strived to achieve a balance between revelation and reason, 
which led to the Muslim ummah gaining two theological strains that 
enabled them to counter external criticism in a rational and coherent 
manner.174 Al-Maturidi’s ideas won support mainly within the Hanafi 
madhhab and gradually spread to much of the Islamic world through 
Ottoman support. Prominent Maturidi scholars include theologian Abu 
al-Muʿin al-Nasafi (d. 508) and Jamal al-Din al-Ghaznawi (d. 593).

Hence, the fourth century AH was marked not only by the crys-
tallization of the four madhahib but also the advancement of the 
theological schools which became embedded in these legal schools. 
Hanbalis maintained their own staunchly traditionalist brand of the-
ology, which encouraged a simple reading of scripture (both Qur’an 
and Sunnah) and spurned kalam. The prestigious al-Azhar University 
was also founded in this century in Cairo by the Shiʿa Fatimids in 
360 AH; it was later converted to a Sunni institution by Salahuddin 
Ayyubi (r. 566-589). A simultaneous current that began to simmer in 
the Muslim world in third century onwards was falsafa (philosophy). 
While the Muʿtazilis adopted Hellenistic reasoning as a common lan-
guage with their non-Muslim counterparts, the Muslim philosophers 
mastered Greek philosophy and endeavored to integrate it with the 
theocentric worldview of Islam, seeking certitude through demon-
strative proofs. Al-Kindi (d. ca. 252), a key figure in Baghdad’s nascent 
House of Wisdom, was responsible for overseeing the translation of 
Greek works into Arabic. His thinking was greatly shaped by these 
philosophical treatises and he wrote many texts of his own on a range 
of subjects; as such, he has been called the father of Arabic philosophy. 
In an atmosphere heavily influenced by the Muʿtazilis, al-Kindi strived 
to show the compatibility between theology and philosophy to prove 
universal truths for the sake of verifying creed. While his intellectual 
output was later overshadowed by the philosophers al-Farabi (d. 339) 
and Ibn Sina (d. 428), the “translations produced in the Kindi circle 
would become standard philosophical texts for centuries to come.”175 
Al-Farabi came to be known as the “Second Teacher,” after Aristotle, 



F O R U M     233

who was known as the “First Teacher.”176 Ibn Sina, trained in the Islamic 
sciences from an early age, has a preeminent position within philoso-
phy as a grand systematizer who is also renowned for his synthesis of 
rational philosophy and rational theology.

Kalam prior to Ibn Sina was formulated in reaction to Muʿtazili stances; 
as such, the theories and arguments developed by Sunni mutakallimun had 
remained generally the same in the intervening centuries.177 Meanwhile, 
falsafa had been independently evolving from the time of al-Kindi with 
very little influence on theology.178 Ibn Sina masterfully fused these two 
separate strands together so that “post-[Ibn Sinan] kalam emerged as 
a truly Islamic philosophy, a synthesis of [Ibn Sina’s] metaphysics and 
Muslim doctrine.”179 The two main contributions of Ibn Sina which highly 
influenced future theologians were his distinction between existence and 
essence, along with distinguishing “that which is necessary by virtue 
of itself…, namely, God,” from “that which is necessary but by virtue of 
another…, namely, everything other than God (which is deemed to exist 
necessarily, albeit by virtue of God and not by virtue of itself).”180 In doing 
so, Ibn Sina’s conception of God reduced His connection to the world as 
passive and encompassing only general knowledge. This view yielded a lot 
of criticism from theologians.181 However, considering that contemporary 
kalam had become inadequate and outdated in the face of the far more 
sophisticated falsafa, theologians in the post-Ibn Sina era had no choice 
but to tackle the pillar of philosophy erected by Ibn Sina, even as they 
sought to refute him.182 In the process, Sunni mutakallimun grounded their 
rational claims using Ibn Sina’s writings, thereby consolidating these ideas 
in Sunni theology.183 The increasing use of logic along with philosophical 
terms and categories in theological reasoning illuminate the enduring 
influence of Ibn Sina on Islamic thought, as shown below.184

Section 7: Reason v. Revelation I

The fifth century saw the rise of al-Ghazali (d. 505), who is commonly 
known as a mujaddid (renewer) of the faith. A student of the famous 
Shafiʿi and Ashʿari scholar al-Juwayni (d. 478), al-Ghazali was recruited 
by Nizam al-Mulk (d. 485), the grand vizier of the Seljuk empire, to 



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teach in the newly introduced chain of Islamic colleges, al-Nizamiyya, 
which subscribed to the Shafiʿi Ashʿari orientation and, hence, aided in 
its spread.185 The first one was established in Baghdad in 457 AH, and 
al-Ghazali began teaching there in 484 AH. Just as other eminent scholars 
had done before him, al-Ghazali sought to protect the purity of the din 
(religion, i.e., Islam) from any corrupting forces. Now that theology was 
in the process of being integrated into mainstream Sunni scholarship, the 
threat that Sunni orthodoxy faced was the encroachment of falsafa.186 
An important point to note is that al-Ghazali was not so much opposed 
to philosophy itself but rather the distortion of core Islamic concepts by 
Muslim philosophers such as al-Farabi and Ibn Sina.187 In his Incoherence 
of the Philosophers, he highlighted three conclusions which he deemed to 
be theologically fallacious and, hence, constituted unbelief (kufr): their 
assertion that the universe is coeternal with God, the denial of bodily 
resurrection, and the declaration that God only has knowledge of uni-
versals, not particulars.188 As for their other claims, some he deemed 
bidʿa (innovative) and others as tolerable. In doing so, al-Ghazali himself 
displayed remarkable command of logic and philosophy, deconstructing 
and critiquing falsafa with skill and mastery. At the same time, he sought 
to resolve the tension between reason and revelation by proposing that 
those verses that cannot be rationally explained be interpreted in a fig-
urative manner (ta’wil). For instance, he explained, since there are “valid 
demonstrative arguments proving that God cannot have a ‘hand’ or sit on 
a ‘throne’,” these should be read symbolically.189 This resolution, known 
and elaborated as the universal rule, preferred reason over revelation; 
it came to be widely accepted by Muslim theologians and became the 
standard Ashʿari position.190

While al-Ghazali is often blamed for the decline of philosophy in 
the Muslim world in modern times, he in fact introduced Aristotelian 
logic – via Ibn Sina’s writings – in theological discourse so much so 
that it became a permanent feature of subsequent literature.191 As such, 
rather than banishing philosophy completely, it became repurposed, 
adapted into kalam, and accepted accordingly within mainstream Islamic 
thought; this can be seen most clearly in the scholarship of al-Razi a 
century after al-Ghazali.192 Further, Ibn Rushd (d. 520), one of the greatest 



F O R U M     235

Muslim philosophers who hailed from Muslim Spain, followed al-Ghazali 
with a critical response, Incoherence of the Incoherence. Although falsafa 
proper, like Muʿtazili theology, found better reception among the Shiʿa 
and thrived there, it did not entirely disappear among the Sunnis, as 
evident in the scholarship of the Andalusians, Ibn Bajja (d. 533) and 
Ibn Tufayl (d. 581), as well as the Persian Suhrawardi (d. 587), and the 
Ottoman Anqarawi (d. 1631).193 The increasingly diverse and religiously 
pluralistic world of al-Ghazali is reflected in another important text he 
wrote, which explained how to reconcile the numerous strains within the 
Muslim ummah, including the various madhahib and theological schools, 
not to mention other strands such as falsafa, tasawwuf (Sufism), and Shiʿa 
sects. In order to forge unity and discourage the hasty charge of kufr, he 
emphasized the commonality around basic beliefs, i.e., testifying to the 
oneness of God, the prophethood of Muhammad (s), and existence of the 
Day of Judgement, while also underscoring the importance of affirming 
what has been established through tawatur (massive transmissions)194 or 
ijmaʿ (consensus) of the Prophetic Sunnah. If someone contradicts any 
of these, then they may be denounced as an unbeliever (kafir) – because 
essentially they are saying that the Prophet (s) lied, which is tantamount 
to blasphemy.195 In doing so, he created expansive boundaries for mul-
tiplicity in interpretation and approach, protected under the umbrella 
of religious tolerance.

Despite vigorously defending Islam through his academic work, 
his many accomplishments, and his constant efforts in validating creed 
through theological reasoning, al-Ghazali experienced a crisis of faith 
in 488 AH. He abruptly left his teaching position along with its accom-
panying pomp and prestige, choosing the minimalistic life of an ascetic 
instead.196 Having gained proficiency in a host of Islamic sciences, 
al-Ghazali grasped that theological erudition was not sufficient in and of 
itself in gaining redemption in the hereafter; he felt closest to achieving 
this goal and sensing certitude when he was among the spiritually-ful-
filling milieu of the mystics.197 During this time, he wrote Revival of the 
Religious Sciences (Ihya’ ‘Ulum al-Din) in which he made a persuasive 
case for infusing tasawwuf into theology. Preoccupied with salvation in 
the afterlife, al-Ghazali criticized the worldly environment of ‘ulama who 



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are beholden to the court and sought to ground Islamic practice, both 
scholarly as well as individual, in the “living presence of God.”198 In order 
to do so, he integrated the otherwise parallel world of Sufism into Islamic 
orthodoxy by emphasizing that “a life according to the Shari’a was the 
necessary basis of the sufistic life,”199 thereby arguing that it was at the 
heart of religious sciences, not external to them. As such, he declared 
that tasawwuf was a necessary component to be internalized by every 
Muslim individual, not something to be undertaken by a select few.200 
He was finally persuaded to return to academia and spent his last years 
teaching at al-Nizamiyya in Nishapur, which incidentally was where he 
had received his initial education.

Section 8: Tasawwuf

Original traces of what eventually morphed into the Sufi movement, as 
mentioned at the beginning of this article, were present in Basra in the 
austere and spiritually devoted figure of al-Hasan al-Basri, whose teach-
ings impacted generations of students. The designation of “sufi” (from suf, 
Arabic for wool) was applied in the second century AH to self-abnegating 
individuals who wore wool to signify their renunciation of the world. The 
initial manifestation of this worldview was expressed in a variety of social 
and spiritual ways by numerous pious people united in their aversion of 
material pursuits.201 Inward-looking, focused on self-control, and driven 
to attain closeness to God, they eventually emerged as a unified group in 
Baghdad in the second half of the third century AH, with Junayd al-Bagh-
dadi (d. 298) being a renowned member; eventually, the term Sufi came 
to represent a distinctive mode of piety as embodied by these mystics.202 
There were other regional Sufi circles in various parts of the Muslim 
world, including Iran, Central Asia, as well as Syria, and while differing 
in practice, they shared a general affinity due to their ascetic lifestyles.203 
They were on a path (tariq), marked by stations (maqamat; sing. maqam), 
leading to annihilation of the self and attainment of certain knowledge 
of God. Those that reached this outcome were among the spiritual elect 
(wali, pl. awliya’), the masters, among the khassa. As in other Islamic 
disciplines, disciples spread and recorded their master’s teachings and 



F O R U M     237

biographies, analyzing and extending their scholarship.204 Students also 
sought out multiple teachers, as with hadith and jurisprudence.205

Within Sufism, there has always existed an extremist fringe that 
exhibited antinomian qualities.206 These figures, such as Bayazid (d. 234) 
and al-Hallaj (d. 309), have considered themselves above and beyond 
established traditions, indulging in questionable acts and declarations 
that triggered criticism from not only the mainstream scholarly class but 
also fellow Sufis, the majority of whom continued to ground their spir-
itual endeavors in the Shariʿah.207 In fact, many strong critics of Sufism, 
including Ibn al-Jawzi (d. 597) and Ibn Taymiyya (d. 728), were them-
selves Sufis who only denounced its radical elements.208 As a result, there 
was an urgency to delineate “normative” Sufi practices and thus formed 
two orientations, the traditionalist and the academic; as was typically 
the case in other Islamic fields, the latter embraced rational theology 
whereas the former rejected it.209 Exemplars of traditionalist Sufis were 
Abu Talib al-Makki (d. 386), Abu Nuʿaym al-Isfahani (d. 430), and ‘Abd 
Allah al-Ansari (d. 481). Their rationalist counterparts were al-Sarraj 
(d. 378), al-Sulami (d. 412), and al-Qushayri. Al-Qushayri was the star 
student of al-Hasan ibn ‘Ali al-Daqqaq (d. 405); al-Daqqaq wedded his 
daughter, Fatima bint al-Hasan (d. 480), a Nishapuri hadith scholar and 
an ascetic, to al-Qushayri, who became a known Ashʿari210 whose books 
and tafsir helped crystalize the theological synthesis of Sufism.211 Several 
famed scholars emerged from this family in the many generations after 
Fatima. These included the historian al-Farisi (d. 529) along with the 
hadith scholars Amat al-Qahir Jawhar (d. 530) and Amat Allah Jalila 
(d. 541).212 They represent the kinship networks among ‘ulama families 
which became customary across the Muslim world.213 This Shafiʿi-Ashʿari-
Sufi current of Nishapur is also connected to al-Ghazali’s transformation. 
Al-Ghazali was familiar with Sufism from his earliest studies in Nishapur, 
because he had many teachers who were sympathetic to Sufism. It is 
possible that when he became more interested in theology and phi-
losophy, he may have neglected tasawwuf. However, when theology 
and philosophy proved inadequate for him, he turned to mysticism and 
returned to Nishapur.214 In turn, the theology-minded Sufis’ efforts were 
complemented by al-Ghazali’s aims to generalize Sufism and led to a 



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cross-fertilization that helped promote Sufi teachings and infused them 
into the lives of ordinary people.215

Beyond theoretical endeavors, Sufis increasingly started forming spir-
itual lineages and strengthened the master-disciple relationship centered 
on training, with the focus shifting to having a single master during the 
seventh and eighth centuries.216 Some of the major figures which became 
eponyms of later Sufi orders (tariqas) were ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani (d. 561), 
Muʿin al-Din Chishti (d. 633), and Baha’ al-Din Naqshband (d. 791). This 
formalization of Sufism resulted in the Sufi lodge growing into an endur-
ing institution and the flourishing of tariqas, exemplified by practices 
such as dhikr (remembrance of God through invocation), wird (litany), 
simple living, and seclusion.217 The captivating influence of Sufi mas-
ters, however, came hand-in-hand with royal favor and the dependency 
on “worldly networks of clients and institutions of patronage.”218 This 
paradox of worldliness in the aftermath of Sufism’s institutionalization 
prompted a counter-culture of traveling derwishes (mendicants), such 
as the Qalandariyah, who refused to conform to any conventions and 
carried much influence in the countryside, where they were frequently 
the major source of Islamic knowledge.219 Their plain-spoken message of 
piety and poverty attracted a devout following, despite their often eccen-
tric appearances and practices.220 Together, these developments coincided 
with the rise in popular fervor around sainthood, although not every Sufi 
master-trainer or derwish captured such attention.221 Nonetheless, people 
were drawn to the awliya’ and celebrated them by building elaborate 
tomb-shrines, hoping for their intercession; these customs, fueled by dev-
otees, spread Sufi ideas into every sphere of society, taking a life of their 
own, often in contradiction to more formal Sufi traditions.222

Sufism’s spiritual zeal was also adapted into philosophy, most promi-
nently represented by the intellectual Ibn al-ʿArabi (d. 638) and his followers, 
such as al-Qunawi (d. 673) and al-Qaysari (d. 751). As a matter of fact, Ibn 
al-ʿArabi persistently disavowed the philosophers’ claim that reason is the 
apex of all knowledge, even as he acknowledged the importance of logic 
and its benefits. Instead, he advocated for “direct divine ‘revelation’”223 
– referred to as kashf (unveiling), fath (opening), tajalli (manifestation), 
etc. – which alone could yield truly “worthwhile knowledge, consisting 



F O R U M     239

of metaphysical insights and … the knowledge of God.” He believed that 
only a select few could reach this level of maʿrifa (gnosis), and consid-
ered himself to be one of them.224 In explicating his theories, Ibn al-ʿArabi 
linked Qur’an, hadith, and practice of the faith with a “comprehensive 
metaphysical and cosmological vision.”225 Clearly influenced by al-Ghazali 
(and unconsciously borrowing from Ibn Sina226), his constant reference 
to falsafa was indicative of the intellectual culture of his time,227 causing 
him to adopt a metaphysical vocabulary that actually gave generations of 
disciples the tools to “bring Sufism closer to the discourse of falsafah.”228 Ibn 
al-ʿArabi was born in al-Andalus, studied the Islamic sciences with several 
teachers, traveled widely, and later settled in Damascus. He had a great 
influence among the Ottomans, where commentaries on his works at one 
point were adopted as madrasa textbooks and his controversial doctrine 
of wahdat al-wujud (oneness of being)229 became the central Ottoman Sufi 
tenet from the 8th century AH onwards.230 Scholars, including Sufis, have 
critiqued this doctrine for erasing the creator-creature division, thus pro-
moting antinomian qualities as well as undermining religious law.231 The 
development of the Sufi-philosophical ideas is illustrative of yet another 
post-Ibn Sinan phenomenon where subsequent scholars – whether phi-
losophers, mutakallimun, or Sufi – employed Ibn Sina’s conceptual and 
linguistic framework to “assemble their own metaphysical systems.”232 
These sophisticated and technical epistemologies eventually merged with 
Shiʿa scholarship, where philosophy came to be known as hikmat.233

Section 9: Reason v. Revelation II

From the seventh century AH onwards till the modern times, certain Sunni 
systems became embedded in the Middle East and South Asia. Calling it the 
Late Sunni Tradition, Brown explains, “A Muslim scholar … would loyally 
follow one of the established schools of law, one of the established schools 
of speculative theology, and participate in one or more Sufi brotherhoods.”234 
This period is also known for the leniency of hadith scholars in authenticating 
many hadiths that were previously considered problematic. To their credit, 
they had a lot more narrations at their disposal than al-Bukhari and Muslim, 
for example; however, many hadith critics, including the Syrian al-Nawawi, 



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the compiler of Riyad as-Salihin (The Gardens of the Righteous), cited Ibn 
Hanbal’s precedence in utilizing weak hadiths in matters not related to the 
prohibition or permissibility of an act. Hence, so long as they could prove 
that a hadith was not forged, it became admissible.235 At the same time, hadith 
scholars such as the Kurdish Ibn al-Salah (d. 643) emphasized that isnad was 
not the only way to ensure reliable transmission through the centuries; in 
fact, there was a need to meticulously collate all existing manuscripts of an 
extant work to establish reliability.236 As a result, the Syrian al-Yunini (d. 701) 
and later the Egyptian Ibn Hajar al-ʿAsqalani produced critical recensions 
of al-Bukhari’s Sahih.237 During this time, women thrived in hadith scholar-
ship and benefited yet again from the stability of traditionalism.238 With the 
widespread acceptance of written transmissions (ijazas) and the proliferation 
of elite ‘ulama’ families, women’s endeavors flourished during the sixth to 
the ninth centuries AH.239 Often, women learned in informal settings, away 
from the more standardized madrasas, giving them the flexibility not only to 
obtain ijazas but also grant them.240 In Damascus, renowned female scholars 
included Fatima bint ‘Abbas (d. 714), Sitt al-Wuzara’ (d. 716), Zaynab bint 
al-Kamal (d. 740), ‘A’isha bint Muhammad (d. 816), and Bai Khatun (d. 864). 
Zaynab reportedly gave an ijaza to Ibn Battuta (d. 779).241

The seventh to eighth century AH also witnessed the revival of Ibn 
Hanbal’s staunch traditionalism in the formidable appearance of Ibn 
Taymiyya, who singlehandedly revived the debate over reason and rev-
elation, taking on the Shafiʿi Ashʿari elites in Damascus, which attracted 
a medley of scholars after the tragic fall of Baghdad242 in 656 AH.243 Just 
as al-Ghazali learned philosophy par excellence in order to undermine 
its erroneous conclusions, Ibn Taymiyya acquired an expertise in kalam 
in an effort to invalidate it; like his predecessor Ibn Hazm (d. 456), Ibn 
Taymiyya fiercely criticized the theological and philosophical bent of 
Islamic scholarship.244 Note that the Hanbali Ibn Taymiyya did not reject 
kalam itself,245 like al-Ghazali did not oppose philosophy as a science. 
Therefore, just as al-Ghazali’s writing ended up incorporating falsafa, Ibn 
Taymiyya too adopted a theological style in his output, with his brand 
of kalam known as “Qur’anic rational theology … based more squarely 
on the revealed texts while nevertheless fully engaging the philosophical 
tradition.”246 In doing so, Ibn Taymiyya did not reject reason altogether in 



F O R U M     241

favor of revelation; instead, he contextualized reason in light of revelation, 
demonstrating that “sound reason and authentic revelation never come 
into actual conflict.”247 In the process, he showed that the very concept of 
reason, as employed by both theologians and philosophers, is flawed. He 
was also keenly aware that the rationalized version of God was so abstract 
and remote that it made it difficult for one to love God and be in awe of 
Him in order to fully worship and obey Him, something which he sought 
to rectify. Unlike the theologians/philosophers who endorsed reason 
without qualification, and al-Ghazali who found it lacking certainty in 
his quest for knowing the truth,248 Ibn Taymiyya presented reason as 
natural intellect which upholds revelation, thereby resolving the tension 
between reason and revelation along with refuting the universal rule 
articulated by al-Ghazali and explicated by al-Razi.249 For instance, he 
took contemporary theologians to task for divorcing language from its 
intended context by translating ta’wil as figurative interpretation, when 
the Salaf – the first three generations of Muslims250 – only used it as tafsir 
or knowledge solely possessed by God. By foregrounding the Salaf, Ibn 
Taymiyya invoked them as authoritative figures and the most important 
referents for understanding the depth of revelation.251 Employing philo-
sophical and theological arguments, he called for a return to the primary 
sources of the Shariʿah (Qur’an, Sunnah, consensus, and analogy), just as 
al-Shafiʿi and Ibn Hanbal had before him. Ibn Taymiyya castigated the 
scholarly elitism (al-khassa) of Damascus, investing in more egalitarian 
interpretations that would be particularly attractive to later Salafis.

Although Ibn Taymiyya has often been depicted as a dogmatic literalist, 
he actually displayed exceptional skill in engaging with both rationalist 
positions and the intellectual tradition, something which scholars are begin-
ning to acknowledge.252 Yet, unlike al-Ghazali, Ibn Taymiyya did not impact 
much change until his works, like Ibn Kathir’s tafsir, were revived in the 
modern age and gained currency due to his centering of the Qur’an, the 
Prophetic Sunnah, and the Salaf. In fact, reminiscent of the persecution 
endured by Ibn Hanbal, Ibn Taymiyya too paid the price of his strident 
views by being imprisoned multiple times, ultimately dying in his jail cell.253 
Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (d. 751) was his foremost disciple and remained 
faithful to him. Their contemporaries in Damascus included the Shafiʿi 



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Ashʿaris Taqi al-Din al-Subki (d. 756) and his son Taj al-Din al-Subki (d. 
771), who held powerful positions as Chief Judges, as well as the Shafiʿi 
traditionalists al-Dhahabi (d. 748), a hadith critic, and Ibn Taymiyya’s stu-
dent, Ibn Kathir.254 Despite the persistent existence of a traditionalist strain, 
Ashʿari and Maturidi theological schools continued to flourish, as apparent 
in the works of the Persians al-Taftazani (d. 794) and al-Jurjani (d. 817) 
and their influence on Ottoman ‘ulama.255 The exceptional Ibn Khaldun (d. 
808), a social historian and philosopher of history who was born in Tunis, 
also contributed to theological scholarship. A Maliki Ashʿari, he cautioned 
against the liberal use of reason, reminding his peers that to recognize the 
limits of reason does not negate it.256 He advocated logical techniques for 
the sake of attaining clarity but maintained that reason alone cannot unveil 
universal truths which can only be accessed through religion. Hence, he 
recommended that reason be used in conjunction with “religious knowl-
edge, and most importantly that it be employed critically.”257

Another Maliki, al-Shatibi (d. 790), censured both the extreme strict-
ness of the Sufis and the indulgent leniency of his fellow jurists in Andalus, 
calling people to follow the middle path as practiced by the Prophet (s) 
and his companions. Reacting to the entrenched elitism of both the Sufis 
and the fuqaha’, he highlighted the simple nature of revelation which 
had come to an unlettered people, thereby rejecting the interpolation of 
complex sciences such as theology and philosophy; instead, he emphasized 
that law must be explained in a way which makes it easier for ordinary 
people (al-ʿamma) to fulfill their daily obligations.258 In order to do so, he 
clarified that the Shari‘ah must be implemented keeping in mind the higher 
objectives (maqasid al-Shariʿah) – the protections of faith, life, progeny, 
property, and intellect – that underpin its execution on moral founda-
tions.259 At the same time, he cautioned that while Shariʿah is meant to 
benefit people, it must be determined as intended by God through revela-
tion and not become subservient to the whims of humans.260

Section 10: Regional Linkages

In the eighth century AH and onward, the Ottoman Empire, which had 
embraced the Hanafi madhhab together with Maturidi theology, became 



F O R U M     243

the site of various scholarly conflicts reflective of the larger ummah. 
This included the widespread recognition and integration of theology 
and logic, as displayed in the lasting influence of al-Sanusi (d. 895), 
with a minority scholarly population, such as al-Yusi (d. 1691), main-
taining a sustained vociferous objection to such ideologies. In addition, 
Sufi beliefs and practices were woven into the very fabric of Ottoman 
life.261 Scholarly engagement throughout cities in the Ottoman Empire, 
as in previous times, enabled ‘ulama’ to interact and learn from one 
another, their shared Arabic language facilitating dialogue.262 Turkish 
was written using the Arabic script from the tenth through the early 
20th century CE at which time it was replaced with Latin alphabets. 
Prominent scholars included the Turkish al-Bursevi, aka Hocazade (d. 
893), Kemalpaşazade (d. 942), Abu l-Su’ud Effendi (d. 982), Tashkubrizade 
(d. 968), Katib Čelebi (d. 1657), and Minkarizade (d. 1677), as well as the 
Yemeni Aydarusi (d. 1627), Khayr al-Din (d. 1671) of Ramla, al-Nabulsi (d. 
1731) of Damascus, and the Bosnian Mehmed Refik Hadžiabdić (d. 1872). 
The efforts of the Kurdish al-Kurani (d. 1690) in obtaining the works of 
Ibn Taymiyya and Ibn Jawziyya as well as his subsequent commentary 
were crucial in rehabilitating the image of Ibn Taymiyya in modern 
Islamic thought.263 Across the Ottoman Muslim world, women continued 
to engage in Islamic scholarship with a wider interest in the various sci-
ences.264 While Umm al-Khayr Amat al-Khaliq (d. 902) al-Dimashqiyyah 
and Umm al-Hana bint Muhammad al-Misriyyah (d. 911) were renowned 
hadith scholars, others went beyond hadith studies. For example, Asma’ 
bint Kamal al-Din (d. 904) of Zabid and ‘A’isha al-Ba’uniyya (d. 922), who 
was born in Damascus, excelled in Qur’an, hadith, and law; Fatima bint 
Yusuf (d. 925), who settled in Makkah and died there, was known for 
her asceticism; Khadija bint Muhammad (d. 930) of Aleppo was learned 
in fiqh; Fatima bint Abd al-Qadir (d. 966) of Aleppo was the shaykha 
of two Sufi institutions, and Zaynab bint Muhammad (d. 980), born in 
Damascus, extended her hadith expertise to calligraphy.265

Arabic also provided important regional linkages between Muslims 
of East and West Africa with the rest of the Islamic world. Through trade 
and intellectual exchanges, sub-Saharan Africa became integrated with 
the rest of the ummah. Arabic-speakers were present in West Africa as 



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early as the 11th century CE and the Arabic language gradually became 
“central to the social and intellectual life of Muslim communities,” so much 
so that later military expeditions spearheaded by scholars resulted in the 
establishing of states where Arabic would be the language of administra-
tion and instruction.266 Many of the major Islamic works could be found 
in West Africa where scholars also generated commentaries based on 
their own contexts, both in Arabic and in Ajami (local languages using 
an Arabic script).267 Known as Bilad al-Sudan, Land of the Blacks, the 
Maliki madhhab proliferated there. In addition to legal opinions, ijazas, 
and commentaries, West African scholars produced devotional, polemi-
cal, and political writings.268 Sufism continues to dominate in the region 
despite recent challenges from Salafis (see next section). Prominent West 
African scholars include Ahmad Baba al-Timbukti (d. 1627), ‘Uthman dan 
Fodio (d. 1817), al-Kanimi (d. 1837), Umar Tall (d. 1864), al-Shinqiti (d. 
1913) of present-day Mauritania, Ahmad Bamba (d. 1927), and Ibrahim 
Niasse (d. 1975) of Senegal. Female ‘alimas and muqaddamas (spiritual 
guides) were Maryam Nafisa bint Ahmad Mahmud (d. 1954), Fatimatu 
bint al- Sarri Muhammadi (d. 1958), Safiya bint al-Bah (d. 1974), Hajiya 
Saudatu (d. 1976), Hajiya Iya (d. 1986), and Aminatu bint ʿAbdallahi (d. 
1997).269 East Africa, where the Shafiʿi madhhab along with Sufism gained 
currency, was greatly influenced by Yemen and the Hadramawt along 
with interaction with Persia as well as Oman.270 Harar, for instance, has 
356 saints, 10 percent of whom are female.271 Due to commercial ties, 
Islam spread as early as the eighth century CE on the East African coast 
but made its mark inland as late as the 19th century.272 The union of 
male Muslim traders with local women resulted in the emergence of a 
“Swahili society, a culture both African and Islamic.”273 Kiswahili was also 
written in the Arabic script until colonial times. In the modern period, 
the region’s Sufi traditions have come under attack with the increasingly 
political Salafi opposition.274 Key East African figures include Ahmad 
ibn Ibrahim of Harar (d. 949), Muhammad Mar’uf ibn Ahmad (d. 1905), 
Uways al-Barawi (d. 1909), and Al Amin ibn Ali al-Mazrui from Mombasa 
(d. 1947).

Similar to the spread of Islam in sub-Saharan Africa, commercial 
activity first introduced Islam to Southeast Asia in the 11th century 



F O R U M     245

CE.275 Muslim traders came from the Middle East, southern Arabia 
(Hadramawt), India, and China; some eventually married local women 
and settled in the Malay archipelago.276 The local populations found Sufi 
ideas and practices appealing which aided their amenability to accepting 
the faith;277 ultimately, they adopted the Shafiʿi Ashʿari orientation with 
a strong Sufi tendency.278 The Arabic script was also embraced for Malay, 
known as Jawi, and served as a unifying language across the archipel-
ago; it became the standard Malay language until the 20th century and 
propelled the advent of a vibrant literary and religious written culture.279 
During colonial times, Jawi was mostly relegated to the religious edu-
cation sphere. In Malaysia, the Latin script was adopted in order to be 
inclusive of its diverse population; however, Jawi continues to be one of 
the official languages in Brunei.280 Engagement with the Islamic centers 
of learning across the world enabled scholarly interaction, flow of books, 
and exchange of ideas.281 Many Southeast Asian students, also known as 
Jawi in the Arab lands, went to study Islam abroad and returned to the 
Malay archipelago to teach and undertake religious duties; some chose 
to relocate to the Middle East.282 Hajj provided a crucial platform for 
scholarly encounters and propagation of knowledge both for sub-Saha-
ran African and Southeast Asian Muslims, as well as for scholars and 
students from other parts of the Muslim world. Countering narratives of 
unidirectionality and peripheral existence, as with West Africa, scholars 
emphasize “multidirectional flow of ideas” between the Malay archi-
pelago and the rest of the ummah.283 Some of the renowned scholars 
hailing from various parts of Southeast Asia were Abdurrauf Singkel 
of Sumatra (d. 1693), Muhammad Arshad al-Banjari (d. 1812), Dawud 
al-Fattani (d. 1847), Ahmad Khatib of Minangkabau (d. 1916), Tok Kenali 
(d. 1933), Hamka (d. 1981), and Harun Nasution (d. 1998). Many queens 
ruled Southeast Asia at different junctures and advanced the spread 
of Islam while also sponsoring religious scholarship. Examples include 
Taj al-ʿAlam Safiyyat al-Din Syah (d. 1675) and Sultana Zakiyat al-Din 
Syah (d. 1688) of Aceh. As wives of rulers, pious women such as Ratu 
Pakubuwana (d. 1732) and Ratu Ageng (d. 1803) of Java also patronized 
religious learning and created spaces where devotional practice could 
take place.284



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China’s Muslim Hui community has been an integral part of its his-
tory since the arrival of merchants from the Islamic world around the 14th 
century CE. Hu Dengzhou (d. 1597) traveled to Islamic hubs of learning 
in Central Asia and Makkah to gain knowledge which he disseminated 
to the local population after his return; he brought crucial religious texts 
with him which enabled him to create a systematized program known as 
scripture hall education.285 Soon, the Han Kitab genre flourished which 
brought a comingling of Islamic and Chinese literary traditions; these 
were Chinese-language Islamic texts that made “advanced Islamic teach-
ing accessible to the highly Sinicized Muslims of Southeast China” and 
became a hallmark of local religious education.286 Wang Daiyu (d. 1650) 
and Liu Zhi (d. 1724), both from Nanjing, along with Yunnan’s Ma Zhu (d. 
1711) epitomized the thriving Han Kitab literature. Yunnan’s Ma Dexin 
(d. 1874) and Ma Lianyuan (d. 1903) represent a shift toward the writing 
of Arabic and Persian texts.287 Muslim women initiated schools for fellow 
women which have later emerged as female-run mosques that are also 
devoted to community service.288 As in other places, Hajj embodied both 
spiritual and communal significance for Sino-Muslims, giving them an 
opportunity to interact with the scholarly networks both during their 
travel as well as in Makkah and Madina.289

Islam has been vibrant for centuries in modern-day Xinjiang where 
it has sustained the Uyghurs, a Turkic people that identify more with 
their Central Asian counterparts than China which annexed it in 1884; 
regionally, various dialects of Turki, which uses an Arabic script, are still 
spoken and are mutually understandable. The Naqshabandi Sufi order 
has been quite popular among the Uyghurs whose mystic orientation 
has been captured by the tazkirah genre of writing.290 Saint veneration 
at shrines, located generally in remote areas, has been a common form 
of piety although there have been reform efforts of such practices in 
modern times due to Salafi influences.291 Arshad al-Din (d. 766) and Afaq 
Khoja (d. 1694) are two historical figures that have gained sainthood over 
time. The Chechen Kunta-Hajji (d. 1867) and the Daghestani al-Ghazi 
Ghumuqi (d. 1869) were Qadiriyya and Naqshbandiyya-Khalidiyya 
Sufi masters, respectively, in these Muslim-majority areas of the North 
Caucasus where Sufism also held sway.292 Despite their resistance, 



F O R U M     247

both Chechnya and Daghestan eventually became republics of Russia. 
Within the Russian empire, the published works of the Hanafi Maturidi 
al-Marjani (d. 1889) of present-day Tatarstan represent the grappling of 
social realities via theological discourse during the nineteenth centu-
ry.293 Azerbaijan, which has a majority Shiʿa population, also endured 
Russian rule and restrictions on the practice of Islam but became inde-
pendent in the 20th century. The sixth Shaykh al-Islam of the Caucasus, 
Muhammad Hasan Shakavi (d. 1932), has written a commentary of the 
Qur’an in Azeri.

Section 11: Reform and Revival

The period since the 18th century CE (approximately the 12th century AH 
onwards) was marked by reform and revival movements which emerged in 
West Africa, Central Arabia, and South Asia in the face of modernization 
and colonization.294 Early revivalist scholars were Shah Wali Allah (d. 1762) 
in India, al-Sanʿani (d. 1768) in Yemen, Ibn ‘Abd al-Wahhab (d. 1792) in the 
Hijaz, and ‘Uthman dan Fodio in modern-day Nigeria. Dan Fodio was also 
a revolutionary military leader of the expansionist Sokoto Caliphate. As the 
Ottoman and Mughal Empires slowly imploded and then quickly disinte-
grated, scholars scrambled to make sense of this rapid decline of the Muslim 
ummah.295 In doing so, they also had to contend with Orientalists who were 
keen to school Muslims about Islam and its history.296 Then, too, the ever 
growing influence of Western colonial education disrupted both the finan-
cial backing and prestige of Islamic institutions, with graduates and scholars 
suddenly facing a changed landscape where neither their expertise held 
any value nor the languages they had mastered.297 This precarious environ-
ment led scholars to hold on to the madhahib in an “uncompromising and 
uncritical manner.”298 The increasing focus on theology and Sufism since 
the postclassical period resulted in scholarly engagement with recent texts 
in the form of commentaries and glosses, leading to the wide usage of a 
curriculum that was no longer in touch with classical works.299 Interestingly, 
the written culture had taken on such a life – as feared by the prescient 
Ibn Hanbal300 – that layers upon layers of authorial scholarly voices had 
created a distance from the classical ‘ulama’ and their groundbreaking 



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works. This, combined with the European zeal for obtaining ancient Islamic 
texts (whether through looting or buying) caused a decrease in availability 
of classical books as well as their neglect.301 A significant component of 
the reform and revival movement was the identification and recension of 
early manuscripts by committed bibliophiles, editors, and publishers.302 
Influenced by scholars such as al-Shawkani (d. 1834), al-Attar (d. 1835), 
Siddiq Hasan Khan (d. 1890), and al-Ta’wil (d. 1899), who emphasized the 
importance of the classical period, reformers such as Rifaʿa al-Tahtawi (d. 
1873), Muhammad ‘Abduh (d. 1905), al-Husayni (d. 1914), al-Jaza’iri (d. 
1920), Ahmad Zaki (d. 1934), Rashid Rida (d. 1935), and Ahmad Shakir (d. 
1958) devoted themselves to locating, authenticating, editing, and financing 
the printing of such works as Ibn Khaldun’s al-Muqaddima, al-Shafi‘i’s 
Umm, al-Tabari’s Qur’anic commentary, Ibn Taymiyya’s numerous works, 
and Ibn Kathir’s tafsir, among others.303

The rise of print media and the decline of traditional Islamic learning 
made scholarly works not only easily available to people beyond the 
‘ulama’, but also provided an opportunity for intellectuals and autodi-
dacts to analyze them and reach their own conclusions without the 
time-honored teacher-student training based on isnad.304 Critiquing the 
entrenched ideologies constitutive of the postclassical period as taqlid 
(blind following),305 which in their opinion had led to stagnation, reform-
ers and activists demanded a return to these original texts in order to 
emerge out of the current malaise.306 They saw this textual corpus as a 
“reservoir of intellectual and ethical resources necessary for the devel-
opment of Muslim societies” which “could be harnessed to combat the 
backwardness and superstition that early twentieth century reformers 
saw in the postclassical tradition” even as “it offered a vantage point 
from which to engage with Western thought and its political and cul-
tural hegemony without losing one’s identity.”307 As such, the reform and 
revival movements formed in conversation with both the indigenous 
Islamic heritage and the Western gaze Muslims apprehensively grap-
pled with in modern times. They were largely motivated by a quest to 
undermine the postclassical tradition, seeking to disrupt the hierarchy 
of classical and postclassical scholars (al-khassa) with a more egalitarian 
view of Islam that equally privileged themselves.308



F O R U M     249

While Khayr al-Din al-Tunisi (d. 1890) focused on political reform, the 
works of Jamal al-din al-Afghani (d. 1897), al-Kawakibi (d. 1902) in Syria, 
Muhammad Iqbal (d. 1938) in India, and Hasan al-Banna (d. 1949) in Egypt 
criticized Western encroachment and called for the unification of Muslims. 
Further, Sayyid Qutb (d. 1966), Mawdudi (d. 1979), and Muhammad Asad 
(d. 1992) challenged Western notions of modernity and development, 
especially as adopted by Muslim regimes, and advanced alternate models 
grounded in Islam.309 At times, scholars were at loggerheads over different 
conceptions of reform. For instance, in India, the reformist ideologies of 
Shah Muhammad Ismaʿil (d. 1831) and Fazl-i Haqq Khayrabadi (d. 1861), 
the respective scholars who inspired the later Deobandi and Barelwi 
schools, fiercely clashed even though each sought to safeguard the faith 
from the colonial threat and to define what it meant to be truly Muslim 
in the modern context.310 Likewise with the Barelwi Ahmad Raza Khan (d. 
1921) and the Deobandi Ashraf Ali Thanwi (d. 1943), mirroring the larger 
dialectic across the ummah between the postclassical traditionalists and the 
Salafis in the 20th century. In fact, this intense debate between the Deobandis 
and Barelwis on how best to honor the Prophet Muhammad (s) has con-
tinued in the subcontinent even in the postcolonial present.311 Women, 
who became subjects of reform (as evident in Thanwi’s Baheshti Zewar312), 
also actively participated in Islamic revival movements from the confines 
of their homes.313 They became an integral part of the Tablighi Jamaat, 
founded by Ilyas Kandhlewi (d. 1944) in India, even though it had started 
out as an all-male affair.314 On the move with their government-employed 
husbands and away from their zenana (female) quarters back home, these 
women found creative ways to take part in political and spiritual move-
ments.315 Unlike South Asia, women gather in mosques in countries such 
as Egypt, Iran, and Malaysia, where similar trends in female activism can 
be seen. Since Malaysia’s independence, female scholars have been actively 
participating in the public square through lectures delivered at mosques 
and private events as well as via broadcast and social media.316 Women in 
today’s Central Asian countries of Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan 
have homeschooling networks for religious education and provide other 
communal leadership services informally.317 Some female scholars from this 
time include Zayn al-Sharaf (d. 1672), Quraysh al-Tabariyyah (d. 1696), and 



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Fatima bint Hamad al-Fudayli (d. 1831), all three from Makkah; Khunathah 
al-Ma’afiri (d. 1746); Nana Asmau (d. 1864) of Sokoto Caliphate; the Indian 
Shams-un-Nisa (d.1887); Lihaz-un-Nisa (d. 1888); Amatullah al-Dihlawiyya 
(d. 1938); the Egyptians ‘A’isha Abd al-Rahman, aka Bint al-Shati’ (d. 1988) 
and Zaynab al-Ghazali (d. 2005), Noor Jahan Thanwi (d. 2017), as well as 
Munira al-Qubaysi (d. 2022). The treatment of women in Islam became a 
dominant theme in modern times which continues till today, leading to both 
modernists highlighting women’s rights in Islam as well as the emergence 
of feminist interpretations of the Qur’an critiquing patriarchal tendencies 
in Islamic scholarship.318

Muslim reformers and activists were inevitably influenced by the 
seemingly sophisticated Orientalist scholarly currents that cast suspi-
cions on the core science of hadith.319 Central to the argument among 
Muslim modernists – reflective of the Mu‘tazili approach – was an 
emphasis on the fixedness and authority of the Qur’an over and above 
the Prophetic Sunnah, which was not only discounted but also suspected 
of rampant forgery and external intrusion.320 While some advocated a 
“Qur’an-only” methodology, others, such as Sayyid Ahmad Khan (d. 
1898), Abduh, Rida, and Fazlur Rahman (d. 1988), accepted the Prophetic 
Sunnah but disregarded traditional scholarship, critiquing prior hadith 
criticism techniques as insufficient.321 Unlike the efforts of the classical 
scholars who had endeavored to establish authenticity based on isnad 
(transmission), modernists increasingly undertook matn (content) criti-
cism and, countering established scholarly consensus spanning centuries, 
declared only mutawatir (massively transmitted) hadiths as possessing 
certainty whereas dismissing the single-transmission (ahad) reports as 
yielding only probable knowledge.322 In effect, since such mutawatir 
hadiths are only a handful, they basically disavowed the vast majority 
of what has been passed down as Sunnah.323 On the jurisprudence side, 
Ibn ‘Ashur (d. 1973) strove to revive al-Shatibi’s maqasid al-Shari‘ah 
approach in an effort to renew usul al-fiqh (legal theory).

On the other hand, some groups, like the followers of Ibn ‘Abd al-Wah-
hab, ‘Abd al-Aziz ibn Baz (d. 1999) and Muhammad bin Salih al-‘Uthaymin 
(d. 2001), along with al-Albani (d. 1999), saw hadiths as the “ultimate source 
of interpreting the faith” and revived hadith criticism, seeking to purge 



F O R U M     251

the body of prophetic traditions of weak reports.324 Known as Salafis, they 
echo the early Ahl al-Hadith in centering the Sunnah.325 Although Ibn ‘Abd 
al-Wahhab was not against madhahib per se, al-Albani did not believe in 
following any legal schools as they had come to exist.326 He found them 
to be rigid and felt they demanded uncritical adherence, so much so that 
he parted from his Hanafi father and left his home due to such differenc-
es.327 Like the modernists, the Salafi al-Albani wanted to wrest control 
from layers upon layers of ‘ulama’ (al-khassa), who in his opinion had 
corrupted the original scriptural teachings as encompassed in the Qur’an 
and Sunnah.328 A self-taught man, he prided himself on breaking free from 
the scholarly chain and being a direct follower of the Prophet Muhammad 
(s), something which led him to detach himself from the Wahhabi Salafis 
as well.329 Nonetheless, al-Albani honored the founding members of the 
four schools of law as imams who were part of the first three generations 
of Muslims; however, he accused the followers of the madhahib of taqlid.330 
Instead, he foregrounded the Qur’an and Sunnah and asserted that his 
scriptural understanding was the “absolute truth,” feigning to remove him-
self from the interpretive process.331 In his quest for certainty, he tried to 
minimize differences and castigated the scholars of madhahib for plurality 
in legal rulings, especially the existence of contradictory opinions.332 In that 
vein, he encouraged his students and Muslims in general to demand textual 
proofs for scholarly rulings and gave lay people (al-’amma) the confidence 
to gain knowledge of hadiths, whereas previously this was the domain of 
the scholarly class (al-khassa).333 Al-Albani became renowned across the 
Muslim world and, like scholars before him, his teachings spread through 
his works and his students who recorded his lectures.334

Critics of al-Albani upbraided him for bypassing centuries of tra-
ditional scholarship and disparaged his literalistic interpretations that 
narrowly focused on hadith to the exclusion of fiqh.335 Refuting both the 
Salafis and modernist scholars were the postclassical traditionalists, who 
continued to revere the intellectual legacy of Muslims as received through 
the ages. They celebrated legal pluralism and subjective interpretation as 
a crucial aspect of Islamic law, recognizing that legal reasoning, whether 
through ijtihad or taqlid, was a fallible process; they argued that the spec-
tra of views “help remove hardship” and “accommodate different societal 



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and individual needs.”336 In doing so, these scholars adapted to the needs 
of modern times by allowing movement across legal schools for flexibility 
in opinions, restored Malik’s inclination for following communal prac-
tice in matters where hadiths existed but were never acted upon by the 
Prophet (s),337 and accepted figurative interpretations.338 They also began 
giving textual proofs for their rulings and adopted al-Albani’s practice of 
indicating the grading of a hadith when citing it.339 Nevertheless, they con-
tinued to censure modernist and Salafi efforts as haphazard, underscoring 
the necessity of juristic training in order to conduct hadith criticism.340 
Proponents of the postclassical traditionalist approach included al-Kaw-
thari (d. 1952), ‘Abd al-Fattah Abu Ghudda (d. 1997), and Sa‘id al-Buti (d. 
2013). Contemporary modernist Islamic scholars inspired by Rida were 
Muhammad al-Ghazali (d. 1996) and Yusuf al-Qaradawi (d. 2022); while 
their approach was similar to traditionalists in that they respected received 
knowledge through chains of scholars, their interpretive processes were 
more flexible and liberal.341 Other Salafi autodidacts were ‘Abd al-Qadir 
al-Arna’ut (d. 2004) and ‘Ali al-Halabi (d. 2020).

Conclusion

In the end, a crucial question to ask is: What is the relevance and utility 
of inherited tradition in today’s time and space? In a world where the 
legalistic-extremist-bad Muslim versus Sufistic-peaceful-good Muslim 
trope342 is actively endorsed, with no dearth of scholars reducing the 
complexity, richness, and diversity of Islamic thought to one-dimensional 
stereotypes and simplistic depictions of an obsession with the past, it 
is vital to educate ourselves of the full scope of our scholarly heritage 
in order to engage our intellectual history with both measured rever-
ence and constructive criticism. This is all the more important because 
Muslims today are especially susceptible to internalized Islamophobia, 
due to the constant onslaught of dominant Islamophobic narratives 
that single out Islam as well as its scholarly tradition as exceptionally 
problematic and seek to undermine key figures in Muslim intellectual 
history.343 Moreover, as Muslims struggle to find their place in the con-
temporary world, it may be comforting to know that striking the right 



F O R U M     253

balance between Qu r’an and Sunnah is not just a core concern for us but 
has been a salient inspiration among scholars for centuries.

It is also crucial to realize that in spite of the many disputations, there 
was much in common among the various groups, ensuring a plurality 
and multivocality that allowed each to carve out and inhabit a niche, 
coexisting and enriching Islamic thought as a whole. May we appreciate 
the hard work which has preceded us and acknowledge the great debt we 
owe the giants who have erected the lampposts that continue to guide 
us today. Above all, my hope is that having a sense of the larger picture 
will allow students of Islam in general and Islamic Studies in particular 
to delve deeper, ask probing questions, and make important connections 
during the individual study of each discipline and topic, enabling us to 
inch closer to the ultimate goal as encountered by every generation in 
these 1400 years: how best to lead our lives in accordance with the will 
of God and the example of the Prophet Muhammad (s).

Th e map and timeline accompanying the present survey 
of Muslim intellectual history are available at this link: 

htt ps://www.ajis.org/index.php/ajiss/libraryFiles/downloadPublic/4
and QR code.



254    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

Endnotes
1 To determine the Gregorian equivalent, here is a good formula: CE = 0.970229 × AH 

+ 621.5643. For conversion from CE to hijri year, use the following formula: AH = 
1.030684 × (CE − 621.5643).

2 While the early “scholars” were known as ‘fuqaha’ and ‘ulama,’ these were loosely 
applied terms and did not signify the technical meaning they came to carry with the 
systematization of Islamic scholarship. Calling them “memorizers, collectors, and 
exemplars,” Ovamir Anjum explains that they were “trustworthy receptacles of the 
Companions’ teachings and judgments, and they were sages—wise men and women—
who embodied that knowledge and advised others, answering people’s questions that 
arose out of the day-to-day practice of Qur’an and the known Sunna” (A History of 
Islam in Action: The Umayyad Period 40-132/661-750, Ch. 8, unpublished manuscript).

3 To see an isnad of an ijaza (certification) in Qur’anic recitation spanning 14 centuries, 
for instance, see Figure 3.1 in Ingrid Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an (Chichester, 
West Sussex: Blackwell, 2013).

4 Isnad is the “chain of transmission through which a scholar traced the matn, or 
text, of a hadith back to the Prophet … an effort to document that a hadith had 
actually come from Muhammad.” Jonathan Brown, Hadith: Muhammad’s Legacy in 
the Medieval and Modern World (Oxford: OneWorld, 2018), 4.

5 Hadith is a “report describing the words, actions, or habits of the Prophet” and serves 
as the “unit through which the Sunna was preserved, transmitted, and understood” 
(Ibid., 3).

6 For more details on how oral and written transmission took place across the dis-
ciplines, see Brown, Hadith, 44ff; Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an, Ch. 3; Ahmed 
El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law: A Social and Intellectual History (New 
York: Cambridge University Press, 2013), Ch. 6; Asma Sayeed, Women and the 
Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam (New York: Cambridge University 
Press, 2013), 123-125 and Ch. 4, and Sean Anthony, The Expeditions: An Early 
Biography of Muhammad by Ma‘mar ibn Rashid (New York: New York University 
Press, 2015), xxii-xxiii and xxviii-xxxi. See also Gregor Schoeler and Shawkat 
Toorawa, The Genesis of Literature in Islam: From the Aural to the Read (Revised 
edition, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2009).

7 Hussein Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis: Genesis and Development (New 
York: Routledge, 2010).

8 “School” here refers to tendency in approach towards Islam and not the legal schools 
(madhahib; sing. madhhab) that were formalized much later, in the fourth century AH. 

9 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

10 Sunnah is the “normative legacy of the Prophet … and, although it stands second 
to the Quran in terms of reverence, it is the lens through which the holy book is 
interpreted and understood” (Brown, Hadith, 3).



F O R U M     255

11 Schoeler and Toorawa, The Genesis of Literature in Islam.

12 Brown, Hadith.

13 Yasin Dutton, Early Islam in Medina: Malik and His Muwatta (London: Bloomsbury, 
2022).

14 Anjum, A History of Islam in Action.

15 Brown, Hadith; El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

16 Anjum, A History of Islam in Action.

17 Ibid.

18 Mohammad Akram Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat: The Women Scholars in Islam (Oxford: 
Interface Publications, 2014). Nadwi notes that hadith scholarship among women 
waned in Syria after the first hijri century but revived again in the sixth century 
AH. Shaykh Akram Nadwi’s 43-volume biographical compilation of female hadith 
scholars is now available in Arabic: al-Wafa’ bi asma’ an-Nisa’ (Jeddah: Dar al-Min-
haj, 2021). 

19 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

20 Anthony, The Expeditions.

21 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law. Schoeler and Toorawa in chapter 4 
of The Genesis of Literature in Islam also explain that the early texts were written 
for the court, where they were stored in the royal library. 

22 Dutton, Early Islam in Medina.

23 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

24 Nimrod Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism: Piety into Power (New York: Routledge, 2011).

25 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law; Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism. 

26 Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat.

27 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

28 Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat.

29 Anjum, A History of Islam in Action.

30 Ibid.

31 Ibid.

32 Qadar (divine predestination) is one of the articles of faith and indicates Muslim 
belief in God’s ultimate and complete power. The Umayyads politicized this core 
concept to justify their political ends and the suffering endured by the commu-
nity during their rule. By “attributing their licentiousness and iniquities to qadar,” 
Umayyad rulers and governors sought to “gag the opposition, exonerate the unscru-
pulous rulers and justify their political misfortunes” (Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic 
Exegesis, 57). In other words, the Umayyads asserted that to reject them was to deny 
God’s plan (Anjum, A History of Islam in Action).



256    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

33 Anjum adds the following caveat: “The other implication of the doctrine of defer-
ment was that actions were not part of the definition of faith. The two types of 
deferment (irjā’) are often distinguished by the Sunni traditionalists” (A History of 
Islam in Action, Ch. 8).

34 Ibid.

35 Ibid., Ch. 8.

36 Ibid. 

37 Malika Zeghal and Marilyn Waldman, “Islamic World” (Encyclopedia Britannica, 
2019). https://www.britannica.com/topic/Islamic-world.

38 Ibid.

39 Anjum, A History of Islam in Action. 

40 Brown, Hadith.

41 Ibid.

42 Christopher Melchert, “Ahmad ibn Hanbal and the Qur’an,” Journal of Qur’anic 
Studies 6, no. 2 (2004): 22–34.

43 Brown, Hadith. 

44 The inscribed Qur’an in the form of sahifas (loose pages) – as meticulously verified 
by the chief scribe, Zayd ibn Thabit, and his team – was safely kept by Abu Bakr 
(ra, d. 13), then ‘Umar (d. 23), and then Hafsa (ra, d. 45). During the caliphate of 
‘Uthman, a final codex was compiled as a mushaf (collection of pages) and circu-
lated as the official written Qur’an. For a detailed discussion of how the Qur’an was 
compiled and finalized, see Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an, p. 95-100. See also Yasin 
Dutton, “The Form of the Qur’an: Historical Contours” in The Oxford Handbook of 
Qur’anic Studies, ed. Mustafa Shah and Muhammad Abdel Haleem (London: Oxford 
University Press, 2020) regarding companions’ written copies of the Qur’an which 
differed from one another and variant readings (qira’at).

45 Brown, Hadith. Brown explains that only a few companions wrote down some of 
his sayings as private notes.

46 Ibid.

47 See Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis, Ch. 3; Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an, 
192-3, and Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism, Ch. 8.

48 Jonathan Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhari and Muslim: The Formation and 
Function of the Sunni Hadith Canon (Boston: Brill, 2007), 57.

49 Brown, Hadith.

50 For details, see Zainab Alwani, “Muslim Women as Religious Scholars: A Historical 
Survey,” in Wiener Islamstudien, Volume 3: Muslima Theology: The Voices of Muslim 
Women Theologians, eds. Ednan Aslan, Marcia Hermansen, and Elid Medeni 
(Frankfurt am Main, DEU: Peter Lang AG, 2013).



F O R U M     257

51 Brown, Hadith.

52 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

53 For a detailed study of his life and work, see Feryal Salem, The Emergence of Early 
Sufi Piety and Sunni Scholasticism: ‘Abdallāh b. al-Mubārak and the Formation of 
Sunni Identity in the Second Islamic Century (Leiden: Brill, 2016).

54 Brown, Hadith, 80.

55 Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat.

56 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam, 3.

57 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

58 Martin Nguyen, Modern Muslim Theology: Engaging God and the World with Faith 
and Imagination (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2019).

59 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

60 Ibid., 37.

61 Dutton, Early Islam in Medina, 39.

62 Ibid., 64. See also chapter 4.

63 Kecia Ali, Imam Shafi‘i: Scholar and Saint (Oxford: Oneworld, 2011).

64 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

65 Ibid.

66 Ibid. 

67 Ibid.

68 Ibid.

69 More than the locations of battles or raids, Anthony explains in The Expeditions 
(2015) that the term “maghazi” here refers to “sites of sacred memory… A maghzah, 
therefore, is also a place where any memorable event transpired and, by extension, 
the maghazi genre distills all the events and stories of sacred history that left their 
mark on the collective memory of Muhammad’s community of believers” (xix-xx).

70 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law, 96. Any references here to Maliki or 
Hanafi are used informally to identify the respective followers of Malik ibn Anas and 
Abu Hanifa, not their legal schools which were formalized in the fourth century. See 
Dutton, Early Islam in Medina, Ch. 5, for an exchange between Malik and al-Layth 
ibn Sa‘d (d. 175) regarding Malik’s objection that al-Layth’s fatwas in Egypt were 
running counter to Madinan ‘amal.

71 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

72 This entailed that an Arab patron would give protection to a non-Arab, his client. 
Both patron and client were called mawla (pl. mawali). Anjum in A History of Islam 
in Action explains that at first Muslim and Arab were synonymous terms but by 
the end of the 1st century, a significant number of non-Arabs had become Muslim. 



258    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

In terms of ‘ulama, he notes that in the 1st century, Arab ‘ulama outnumbered 
non-Arab ‘ulama. In the 2nd century, non-Arab ‘ulama equaled Arab ‘ulama. In the 
3rd century, non-Arab ‘ulama outnumbered Arab ‘ulama. By the 4th century, the 
distinction between non-Arab and Arab lost any importance. 

73 For more details, see El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law, 100-103. The 
patron-client relationship was common during the Ottoman Empire as well. For a 
detailed overview of how Bosnian Muslims resourcefully integrated themselves in 
the contemporary educational elite circles, see Ayelet Zoran-Rosen, “The Emergence 
of a Bosnian Learned Elite: A Case of Ottoman Imperial Integration,” Journal of 
Islamic Studies 30, no. 2 (2019): 176-204.

74 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

75 Ibid. El Shamsy also remarks, “al-Shafi‘i most probably adopted the justification of 
prophetic tradition as evidence of divine intention from the Hanafis in Iraq” (78) 
who had utilized this argument in a debate with Kharijis when the latter refused to 
accept hadith in interpreting Qur’anic verses. 

76 Wael Hallaq notes the following about another potential school: “The Zahirite school, 
by contrast, which remained steadfast in its literalist/traditionalist stand and adamantly 
refused to join this synthesis, was left behind and before long expired.” Hallaq, The 
Origins and Evolution of Islamic Law (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005). 

77 This science was refined in the next few centuries: legal acts were categorized as oblig-
atory (fard/wajib), recommended (mandub), permissible (mubah), prohibited (haram), 
and repugnant (makruh); acts were further distinguished based on whether they were 
valid (sahih), invalid (fasih), or null and void (batil); explication of imperative and pro-
hibitive forms; the distinction between recurrent (mutawatir) reports that are similar in 
wording (lafzi) and those that differ in wording but share the same meaning (ma‘nawi); 
the delineation of attributes that hadith transmitters must possess as required by jurists, 
such as justice (‘adl), truthfulness (sadiq), precision (dabt), etc.; criteria based on which 
reports are evaluated and given preference (tarjih); rules of abrogation (naskh); how and 
when consensus (ijma‘) may be reached or reasoning (qiyas/ijtihad) may be employed, 
and maqasid al-Shari‘ah (the higher objectives of Shari‘ah), among others. For detailed 
treatment of usul al-fiqh, see Wael Hallaq, A History of Islamic Legal Theories: An 
Introduction to Sunnī Uṣūl al-Fiqh (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).

78 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law, 116.

79 Ibid.

80 Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism.

81 Ibn Hanbal’s followers, including his son ‘Abdullah (d. 290), would serve as judges 
for the court. Ibid.

82 The House of Wisdom began as a library of manuscripts on a host of subjects in 
the arts and sciences in many languages; it was later expanded as a research center 
where scholars engaged in translations, analyses, discussions, and production of 



F O R U M     259

literary works. Salim Al-Hassani, 1001 Inventions: The Enduring Legacy of Muslim 
Civilization (Washington, D.C.: National Geographic, 2012).

83 Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism. 

84 Wasil ibn ‘Ata (d. 131) of Basra is considered to be the founder of the Mu‘tazilis. For 
more details on the Mu’tazilis, see Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an, 143-6; El-Tobgui, 
Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation, 41-42, and Blankinship, “The Early Creed,” in 
The Cambridge Companion to Classical Islamic Theology, ed. Tim Winter (Cambridge, 
UK: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 47-51.

85 That is, “an argument for the existence of God which claims that all things in nature 
depend on something else for their existence (i.e. are contingent), and that the 
whole cosmos must therefore itself depend on a being which exists independently 
or necessarily” (Oxford Languages).

86 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

87 Hurvitz clarifies that there were Sunni mutakallimun as well as Hanafis who 
opposed the mihna. Sunni mutakallimun were those scholars who opposed the 
Mu‘tazili positions but did not reject kalam altogether. Hurvitz also asserts that 
the mihna was meant to “advance the collective interests of all mutakallimun,” not 
just the Mu‘tazilis (Formation of Hanbalism, 129).

88 Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism. 

89 Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an. She adds, “the mihna had the long-term effect of 
strengthening the social profile of the scholarly class, who henceforth tried to assert 
their independence from political rulers to judge on matters of religious law and 
belief, while simultaneously calling upon the power of the state from time to time 
to enforce the orthodoxy they delineated” (145).

90 Ibid., 152.

91 See note 87.

92 Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhari and Muslim, 77.

93 Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism; for detailed discussion, see 152-155. Jahmis were 
followers of Jahm ibn Safwan (d. 128); this term was used pejoratively by Hanbalis 
to indicate Mu‘tazili tendencies among peers. Jahm ibn Safwan had questionable 
beliefs such as “faith is merely an internalized knowledge in the heart, without 
any outward expression at all” along with “the view that heaven and hell are not 
eternal” (Blankinship, “The Early Creed,” 44).

94 Hurvitz, Formation of Hanbalism.

95 Blankinship, “The Early Creed.” Sajjad Rizvi discusses the Mu‘tazili influence on 
Shi‘a theology in Oliver Leaman and Sajjad Rizvi, “The Developed Kalam Tradition,” 
in The Cambridge Companion to Classical Islamic Theology, 92-94.

96 Brown, Hadith, 80.

97 Hallaq, The Origins and Evolution of Islamic Law. 



260    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

98 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

99 Ibid., 157.

100 Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhari and Muslim.

101 Ibid.

102 Ibid.

103 Ibid., 58. Brown explains, “Since the early days of Islam, the transmission of hadiths 
was a means for everyday Muslims to bind themselves to the inspirational authority 
of the Prophet and incorporate his charisma into their lives. Like all early Muslim 
scholarship, the collection and study of hadiths was not the product of institutions 
of learning; it was undertaken by devout individuals whose eventual knowledge and 
pious allure earned them positions of respect and authority in their communities” 
(57).

104 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

105 Ibid., 103.

106 Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat. For detailed descriptions, see 44-46, 98-102, and 142-149.

107 Ibid.

108 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

109 Nadwi, al-Muhaddithat.

110 Ibid.

111 Ibid.

112 Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhari and Muslim. Brown mentions that al-Da-
raqutni (d. 385) and al-Harawi (d. 430) each compiled hadith collections that they 
considered sahih which they believed should’ve been included by al-Bukhari and 
Muslim.

113 Joel Blecher, “Hadith commentary,” in Encyclopedia of Islam, Third Edition, ed. Kate 
Fleet, Gudrun Krämer, Denis Matringe, John Nawas, and Everett Rowson. 

114 Ibid.

115 Ibid.

116 Ibid.

117 Brown, Hadith.

118 Ibid. 

119 Ibid.

120 Ibid. Brown notes, “The Sahihayn canon was an ideal polemical weapon to use 
against one’s opponents. But that did not mean that scholars felt they had to obey 
all the hadiths found in the two collections in their own work. If a scholar of the 
Shafi‘i or Hanafi school of law found a hadith in al-Bukhari’s or Muslim’s collections 
that he disagreed with, he had no compunction about criticizing its authenticity. 



F O R U M     261

… Only in the early modern and modern periods has it become controversial to 
criticize the Sahihayn, but this is primarily due to Muslim scholars’ eagerness to 
protect the status of two books that they see as symbols of an Islamic tradition 
under attack from modernity” (41-2).

121 Some scholars have considered this to be the ‘closing of the gate of ijtihad (indepen-
dent reasoning based on revelatory sources).’ However, Hallaq forcefully opposes 
this view in Wael Hallaq, “Was the Gate of Ijtihad Closed?” International Journal of 
Middle East Studies 16, no. 1 (1984): 3–41. 

122 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

123 Ibid.

124 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

125 Ibid.

126 Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhari and Muslim.

127 Ibid.

128 Brown, Hadith. 

129 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

130 For detailed treatment of the interaction between hadith and tafsir, see R. Marston 
Speight, “The Function of Hadith as Commentary on the Qur’an, as Seen in the Six 
Authoritative Collections,” in Approaches to the History of the Interpretation of the 
Qur’ān, ed. Andrew Rippin (Piscataway, NJ, USA: Gorgias Press, 2013).

131 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

132 Ibid. See also, Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an.

133 This refers to the method that utilizes verse(s) from one part of the Qur’an to explain 
another verse(s).

134 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

135 Ibid.

136 Ibid.

137 Schoeler and Toorawa, The Genesis of Literature in Islam.

138 C.H.M. Versteegh, Arabic Grammar and Quranic Exegesis in Early Islam (Leiden: 
E.J. Brill, 1993).

139 Al-Du’ali also added markings to indicate short vowels and double consonants while 
the dots and diacritical marks were added later. Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an.

140 Michael Carter, Sibawayhi (London: I.B. Tauris, 2004). Other prominent grammari-
ans in subsequent generations include al-Farra (d. 207), Ibn Qutaybah (d. 276), and 
al-Sarraj (d. 316). Ibn Qutaybah was also a prolific writer of moralistic books on a 
variety of topics. See Schoeler and Toorawa, The Genesis of Literature in Islam, 103-4, 
where they also mention the Mu‘tazili al-Jahiz (d. 255) who reportedly wrote over 
200 books on a wide range of subjects.



262    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

141 For a detailed treatment of this, see Versteegh, Arabic Grammar and Qur’anic 
Exegesis, and S.R. Burge, The Meaning of the Word: Lexicology and Qur’anic Exegesis 
(London: Oxford University Press, 2015).

142 Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an.

143 Walid Saleh, “Hermeneutics: al-Thaʿlabi,” in The Wiley Blackwell Companion to the 
Qur’an, ed. Andrew Rippin and Jawid Mojaddedi (Chichester, UK: Wiley Blackwell, 
2017).

144 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

145 Ibid.

146 Mattson, The Story of the Qur’an.

147 Brown, Hadith.

148 Andrew Rippin, “Tafsir,” in Encyclopedia of Islam, Second Edition, ed. P. Bearman, 
Th. Bianquis, C.E. Bosworth, E. van Donzel, and W.P. Heinrichs. 

149 Ibid.

150 Abdul-Raof, Schools of Qur’anic Exegesis.

151 Walid Saleh, “Hermeneutics: al-Tha‘labi.” 

152 Walid Saleh, The Formation of the Classical Tafsir Tradition: The Qur’an Commentary 
of al-Thaʿlabi (Leiden: Brill, 2004).

153 Walid Saleh, “Medieval Exegesis: The Golden Age of Tafsir,” in The Oxford Handbook 
of Qur’anic Studies. 

154 Walid Saleh, “Preliminary Remarks on the Historiography of Tafsir in Arabic: A 
History of the Book Approach,” Journal of Qur’anic Studies 12 (2010): 6-40. See also 
Rippin, “Tafsir,” EI2.

155 Here we see the distinct shifts in writing that took place in the second and third 
centuries: from being a mneumonic device (lecture notes) to writing as a mode 
of expression (Malik’s al-Muwatta), it eventually took on the specific purposes of 
developing, systematizing, and spreading of ideas (al-Shafi‘i’s works and onwards).

156 El Shamsy, The Canonization of Islamic Law.

157 Saleh, “Preliminary Remarks.” Rippin explains that though Zamakhsahri’s tafsir is 
“renowned for its Mu’tazili perspective,” it is “distinctive primarily for its special 
outlook and not for the presence of an overall theological argument per se, nor for 
the quantity of such argumentation.” (“Tafsir,” EI2.)

158 Younus Mirza, “Ishmael as Abraham’s Sacrifice: Ibn Taymiyya and Ibn Kathir on the 
Intended Victim,” Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations 24, no. 3 (2013): 277–298.

159 Younus Mirza, “Ibn Kathīr, ʿImād al-Dīn,” EI3.

160 Saleh, “Preliminary Remarks.” For a detailed treatment of this, see Ahmed El 
Shamsy, Rediscovering the Islamic Classics: How Editors and Print Culture Transformed 
an Intellectual Tradition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2020).



F O R U M     263

161 Mirza, “Ibn Kathīr, ʿImād al-Dīn,” EI3.

162 Rippin, “Tafsir,” EI2.

163 Ibid.

164 Brown, The Canonization of al-Bukhari and Muslim.

165 Khalid Blankinship, “The Early Creed.” 

166 Nguyen, Modern Muslim Theology, 127.

167 Khalid Blankinship, “The Early Creed.”

168 Nader El-Bizri, “God: Essence and Attributes,” in The Cambridge Companion to 
Classical Islamic Theology. 

169 Tilman Nagel, The History of Islamic Theology from Muhammad to the 
Present (Princeton, NJ: Markus Weiner Publishers, 2000).

170 Martin Nguyen, Modern Muslim Theology.

171 Khalid Blankinship, “The Early Creed,” 53.

172 Ibid.

173 Ibid. See also Nader El-Bizri, “God: Essence and Attributes.”

174 Martin Nguyen, Modern Muslim Theology.

175 Peter Adamson, “al-Kindi,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2020 
Edition), ed. Edward N. Zalta, https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2020/entries/
al-kindi/. See also, Carl Sharif El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation: 
A Study of Darʾ taʿāruḍ al-ʿaql wa-l-naql (Leidin; Boston: Brill, 2020), 55-57.

176 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation, 57-60.

177 Ibid.

178 Ibid.

179 Robert Wisnovsky, “Avicenna and the Avicennian Tradition” in The Cambridge 
Companion to Arabic Philosophy, ed. Peter Adamson and Richard C. Taylor 
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2005), 92.

180 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation, 61.

181 Ibid.

182 Ayman Shehadeh, Doubts on Avicenna: A Study and Edition of Sharaf al-Din al-Ma-
sudi’s Commentary on the Isharat (Leiden: Brill, 2016).

183 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation. For more details, see 60ff. 

184 Ibid.

185 Toby Mayer, “Theology and Sufism,” in The Cambridge Companion to Classical Islamic 
Theology.

186 Al-Ghazali also wrote a treatise refuting Ismaili Shi‘as, another faction gaining 
strength at the time.



264    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

187 In fact, his expository work on falsafa, Aims of the Philosophers, translated into 
Latin and Hebrew, was misinterpreted as a treatise advocating philosophy and 
widely circulated. See Frank Griffel, “al-Ghazali,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of 
Philosophy (Summer 2020 Edition), ed. Edward N. Zalta, https://plato.stanford.edu/
archives/sum2020/entries/al-ghazali/.

188 Ibid. This last point is connected to Ibn Sina’s conception of God as passively and 
generally aware of His creation.

189 Ibid.

190 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation.

191 Montgomery Watt, “al-G̲h̲azali,” in EI2. 

192 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation.

193 Hossein Ziai, “Islamic Philosophy (falsafa),” in The Cambridge Companion to Classical 
Islamic Theology.

194 When a hadith is “transmitted by such a vast number of people in so many differ-
ent places that it is impossible to imagine that anyone could have made it up or 
conspired to forge it,” it is called mutawatir. Brown, Hadith, 191.

195 Sherman Jackson, On the Boundaries of Theological Tolerance in Islam: Abū Ḥāmid 
Al-Ghāzalīʼs Fayṣal Al-Tafriqa Bayna al-Islam wa al-Zandaqa  (Karachi: Oxford 
University Press, 2002).

196 This transformation of al-Ghazali is well-recorded. David Burrell, “Creation,” in The 
Cambridge Companion to Classical Islamic Theology, relates it in al-Ghazali’s own words.

197 Ibid.

198 Mayer, “Theology and Sufism,” 270. 

199 W. Montgomery Watt, Muslim Intellectual: A Study of Al-Ghazali (Edinburgh: 
Edinburgh University Press, 1971). https://www.ghazali.org/articles/watt.htm.

200 Mayer, “Theology and Sufism.”

201 Ahmet Karamustafa, “Sufism,” in Voices of Islam, Volume 1, Voices of Tradition, ed. 
Vincent J. Cornell (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2007). Reproduced in Muhammad in 
History, Thought and Culture: An Encyclopedia of the Prophet of God (ABC-CLIO/
Praeger, 2014).

202 Ibid.

203 Ibid.

204 Ibid.

205 Devin DeWeese, “Organizational Patterns and Developments within Sufi 
Communities,” in The Wiley-Blackwell History of Islam, ed. Armando Salvatore 
(Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2018).

206 Ahmet Karamustafa, “Antinomian Sufis,” in The Cambridge Companion to Sufism, 
ed. Lloyd Ridgeon (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015).



F O R U M     265

207 Ibid.

208 Brown, Hadith. 

209 Karamustafa, “Sufism.”

210 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

211 Karamustafa, “Sufism.”

212 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

213 Ibid.

214 See Watt, Muslim Intellectual, The Crisis of 1095.

215 Karamustafa, “Sufism.”

216 DeWeese, “Organizational Patterns and Developments within Sufi Communities.”

217 Karamustafa, “Sufism.”

218 SherAli Tareen, Defending Muḥammad in Modernity  (Notre Dame, Indiana: 
University of Notre Dame Press, 2020), 19.

219 Karamustafa, “Antinomian Sufis.”

220 Ibid.

221 Karamustafa, “Sufism.”

222 Ibid.

223 This is a common Sufi view that the awliya’, those who have reached the highest 
maqam in the Sufi hierarchy, receive divine inspiration (ilham). For instance, it is 
said that Rumi (d. 672), the renowned Sufi master and poet, was inspired to recite 
his Mathnawi. See Jawid Mojaddedi, “Rumi,” in The Wiley Blackwell Companion to 
the Qur’an.

224 Franz Rosenthal, “Ibn Arabi Between ‘Philosophy’ and ‘Mysticism’: ‘Sufism and 
Philosophy Are Neighbors and Visit Each Other’” Oriens 31, no. 1 (1988): 1–35, at 34.

225 Caner Dagli, Ibn Al-Arabi and Islamic Intellectual Culture: From Mysticism to 
Philosophy (Florence: Routledge, 2016), 52. Dagli adds, “It was Ibn al-Arabi who 
demonstrated that a mystical point of view could have something to say about all 
the areas touched on by falsafah and kalam, and in fact claimed that only through 
a system that took as its pinnacle the direct encounter between man and God could 
rational thinking assume its proper place in human knowledge” (52).

226 Mayer, “Theology and Sufism.”

227 Rosenthal, “Ibn Arabi Between ‘Philosophy’ and ‘Mysticism.’”

228 Dagli, Ibn Al-Arabi and Islamic Intellectual Culture, 52.

229 Dagli argues that Ibn al-Arabi never used this phrase in his writings and it was 
developed as a concept by successive generations of scholars belonging to the 
“school of Ibn al-Arabi.” For detailed discussion, see Dagli, Ibn Al-Arabi and Islamic 
Intellectual Culture, chapter 2. 



266    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

230 A. Ateş, “Ibn al-Arabi,” EI2.

231 Mayer, “Theology and Sufism.” Mayer notes that when distinguished Sufis like Simnani 
(d. 736) and al-Sirhindi (d. 1624) refuted Ibn al-Arabi, they did so by formulating 
“intricate speculative responses of their own, not by reverting to the pre-speculative 
Sufism of the classical period, as represented, say, by Ghazali’s Revival” (275).

232 Dagli, Ibn Al-Arabi and Islamic Intellectual Culture, 49.

233 Tim Winter, “Introduction,” in The Cambridge Companion to Classical Islamic Theology.

234 Brown, Hadith, 58.

235 Ibid.

236 Schoeler and Toorawa, The Genesis of Literature in Islam.

237 Ibid.

238 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

239 Ibid. See 175-177 for details on how ijazas were often granted to children in the 
hopes of maintaining the linkages between the old and the young for the sake of 
transmission.

240 Ibid.

241 Ibid.

242 It should be noted that campaigns and expeditions continued with various dynasties 
fighting one another for control. External threats such as the Mongols and Crusaders 
also existed. In the course of Muslim intellectual history, many scholars participated 
in jihad, such as al-Hasan al-Basri, Abdullah ibn Mubarak, Ibn Taymiyya, and Ibn 
Khaldun, among others.

243 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation. An earlier history of Damascus 
was written by the historian Ibn ‘Asakir (d. 538).

244 For a timeline of the reason versus revelation debate in Muslim intellectual history 
leading up to Ibn Taymiyya, see Ibid., 39-40.

245 Ibid.

246 Ibid., 92.

247 Ibid., 93.

248 Ibid. This refers to al-Ghazali’s crisis and turn towards mysticism. However, there 
is no evidence that al-Ghazali ever abandoned his Ash‘ari orientation.

249 Ibid.

250 This refers to the authentic and mutawatir hadith: “The best of people are my 
generation, then those who follow them, and then those who follow them” (Sahih 
Muslim).

251 El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation.

252 Ibid.



F O R U M     267

253 Ibid. 

254 See Younus Mirza, “Ibn Kathir (d. 774/1373): His Intellectual Circle, Major Works 
and Qur’anic Exegesis” (PhD thesis, 2012), for a detailed description of the richly 
diverse Damascus scene and the interactions between the elite Shafi‘i Ash‘aris, their 
traditionalist Shafi‘i counterparts, along with Ibn Taymiyya and his circle.  

255 Khaled El-Rouayheb, Islamic Intellectual History in the Seventeenth Century: Scholarly 
Currents in the Ottoman Empire and the Maghreb (New York: Cambridge University 
Press, 2015).

256 Oliver Leaman, “The Developed Kalam Tradition,” in The Cambridge Companion to 
Classical Islamic Theology.

257 Ibid., 86.

258 Hallaq, A History of Islamic Legal Theories.

259 Ebrahim Moosa and SherAli Tareen, “Revival and Reform,” in The Princeton 
Encyclopedia of Islamic Political Thought, ed. Gerhard Bowering, Patricia 
Crone, Wadad Kadi, Devin J. Stewart, Muhammad Qasim Zaman, and Mahan 
Mirza (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2012).

260 Hallaq, A History of Islamic Legal Theories.

261 El-Rouayheb, Islamic Intellectual History in the Seventeenth Century. El-Rouayheb 
particularly emphasizes that, contrary to popular narratives of intellectual decline, 
there was a thriving scholarly culture in the seventeenth century across the Ottoman 
Empire.

262 Bruce Masters, The Arabs of the Ottoman Empire, 1516–1918: A Social and Cultural 
History (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013).

263 El Shamsy, Rediscovering the Islamic Classics.

264 Sayeed, Women and the Transmission of Religious Knowledge in Islam.

265 Ibid.

266 Ousmane Kane, Beyond Timbuktu: An Intellectual History of Muslim West Africa 
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2016), 8.

267 Ibid.

268 Ibid.

269 For more details on female scholarly and spiritual networks in West Africa, see 
Britta Frede, “Following in the Steps of ʿ A’isha: Hassaniyya-Speaking Tijani Women 
as Spiritual Guides (Muqaddamat) and Teaching Islamic Scholars (Limrabutat) in 
Mauritania,” Islamic Africa 5, no. 2 (2014): 225–73; Joseph Hill, Wrapping Authority: 
Women Islamic Leaders in a Sufi Movement in Dakar, Senegal. (Toronto, London: 
Toronto University Press, 2018).

270 Valerie Hoffman, “East Africa,” in The Islamic World Routledge Handbook, ed. Andrew 
Rippin (Abingdon: Routledge, 2008).



268    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

271 Camilla Gibb, “Negotiating Social and Spiritual Worlds: The Gender of Sanctity in a 
Muslim City in Africa,” Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 16, no. 2 (2000): 25–42.

272 Edward A. Alpers and Anne K. Bang, “East Africa”, EI3. 

273 Ibid.

274 Hoffman, “East Africa.”

275 Ahmad Yousif, “Contemporary Islamic Movements in Southeast Asia: Challenges 
and Opportunities,” in The Blackwell Companion to Contemporary Islamic Thought, 
ed. Ibrahim Abu-Rabi’ (Oxford, UK: Blackwell Publishing Ltd, 2006), 449–465.

276 Leonard Andaya, “The Introduction, Spread, and Circulation of Islam up to the Early 
Colonial Period in Southeast Asia,” in Routledge Handbook of Islam in Southeast Asia, 
ed. Khairudin Aljunied (London: Routledge, 2022), 13-29.

277 Ibid.

278 Khairudin Aljunied, “Bringing Rationality Back: Harun Nasution and the Burden 
of Muslim Thought in Twentieth-Century Southeast Asia.” Journal of Islamic and 
Muslim Studies 6, no. 1 (2021): 29–55.

279 Andrew Simpson, “Indonesia,” in Language and National Identity in Asia, ed. Andrew 
Simpson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 312-336.

280 Asmah Haji Omar, “Malaysia and Brunei,” in Language and National Identity in Asia, 
337-359.

281 Andaya, “The Introduction, Spread, and Circulation of Islam up to the Early Colonial 
Period in Southeast Asia.”

282 Ibid.

283 Ibid., 24.

284 Barbara Watson Andaya, “Islam and Women in Precolonial Southeast Asia,” in 
Routledge Handbook of Islam in Southeast Asia, 157-175.

285 Kristian Petersen, Interpreting Islam in China: Pilgrimage, Scripture, and Language 
in the Han Kitab (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2017).

286 Ibid., 45.

287 Ibid.

288 For a detailed study of China’s female mosques, see Maria Jaschok and Shui Jingjun, 
The History of Women’s Mosques in Chinese Islam: A Mosque of Their Own (Richmond: 
Curzon, 2000).

289 Ibid.

290 Rian Thum, The Sacred Routes of Uyghur History (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University 
Press, 2014).

291 Rachel Harris and Aziz Isa, “Islam by Smartphone: Reading the Uyghur Islamic 
Revival on WeChat,” Central Asian Survey 38, no. 1 (2019): 61-80.



F O R U M     269

292 See Michael Kemper and Shamil Shikhaliev, “Kunta-Hajji,” EI3; Clemens Sidorko, 
“al-Ghazi Ghumuqi,” EI3.

293 Nathan Spannaus, “al-Marjani, Shihab al-Din,” EI3.

294 Brown, Hadith.

295 See Ibid., Ch. 10.

296 For a detailed discussion, see Ibid., Ch. 9.

297 Sara Konrath, Shariq Siddiqui, and Saulat Pervez, “Muslim Education Reform: 
Prioritizing Empathy and Philanthropic Acts,” Journal of Education in Muslim soci-
eties 2, no. 2 (2021): 31–56; see section titled “Philanthropy and Education in Muslim 
Societies.”

298 Emad Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism: Scholarly Authority in Modern Islam 
(Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2021), 204.

299 El Shamsy, Rediscovering the Islamic Classics; according to him, the classical period of 
Muslim scholarship was ninth to fifteenth centuries CE and the postclassical period 
consisted of sixteenth to nineteenth centuries CE. However, these terms and their time 
periods are contested. For instance, El-Tobgui, Ibn Taymiyya on Reason and Revelation, 
situates Ibn Taymiyya, who died in the 8th century AH/14th century CE, in the post-
classical period because he takes the first five or six centuries of Islam to be its classical 
period. Brown, Hadith, refers to a “Late Sunni Tradition” that began in the 1300s CE 
up till modern times. Scholars also define these periods differently depending on their 
field of study. For example, Johanna Pink considers the classical period of Qur’anic 
tafsir to be from 10th century CE with the postclassical period taking place from the 
14th through the 19th centuries CE, whereas Robert Wisnovsky defines the classical 
period of falsafa to be from 800-1200 CE and the postclassical one from 1100-1900 
CE. See Pink, “Classical Qur’anic Hermeneutics,” in The Oxford Handbook of Qur’anic 
Studies, and Wisnovsky, “The Nature and Scope of Arabic Philosophical Commentary 
in Post-Classical (ca. 1100-1900 AD) Islamic Intellectual History: Some Preliminary 
Observations,” Bulletin - Institute of Classical Studies 47, no. S83PART2 (2004): 149–191.

300 El Shamsy paraphrases Ibn Hanbal’s warning to his students: “written discourse 
possesses its own momentum, which mirrors that of ra’y: one book, such as Malik’s, 
invites another, such as al-Shafi‘i’s, which in turn prompts further responses, refuta-
tions, and counterrefutations in an endless sequence” (El Shamsy, The Canonization 
of Islamic Law, 223). A modern example of this can be seen in the retaliatory treatises 
written by traditionalist scholars as well as al-Albani and his students (see Hamdeh, 
Salafism and Traditionalism (see Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism, 52-58).

301 El Shamsy, Rediscovering the Islamic Classics.

302 Ibid. Much of the information about scholars and their works can be found in the 
biographical texts called Tabaqat. One of the earliest Tabaqat text, consisting of eight 
volumes, was written by Ibn Sa‘d (d. 230). Additionally, the bookseller Ibn al-Nadim’s (d. 
380) Fihrist, a bibliography of all the books in his inventory, “provided Arab intellectuals 



270    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

and correctors … with a map to the ocean of Arabic manuscripts by situating works 
within their times and genres and by charting the intellectual affiliations of their authors, 
which the postclassical teaching tradition had forgotten or suppressed” (88).

303 Ibid.

304 Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism. Hamdeh adds that this situation has become 
exacerbated in the age of the internet and digital information.

305 Ibid. Hamdeh notes that Sherman Jackson’s definition of taqlid as “deference to 
precedent is more accurate because it represents the utilization and capacity of 
taqlid in Islamic law” (1). Jackson adds that jurists followed the opinions of their 
predecessors because they lent authority and validity to their views, not because 
they were incapable of conducting ijtihad themselves. See Sherman Jackson, “Ijtihad 
and Taqlid: Between the Islamic Legal Tradition and Autonomous Western Reason,” 
in Routledge Handbook of Islamic Law, ed. Khaled Abou El Fadl, Ahmad Atif Ahmad, 
and Said Fares Hassan (New York: Routledge, 2019). 

306 Brown, Hadith.

307 El Shamsy, Rediscovering the Islamic Classics, 171.

308 Brown, Hadith, 278: “Although they did not abandon the classical Islamic tradition, 
these movements sought to revaluate it and revive Islam’s primordial greatness by 
breaking with taqlid (unquestioning loyalty to existing institutions and tradition) 
and embracing ijtihad (independent reasoning based on the original sources of 
Islam – the Quran and Sunna). Many of these revivalist scholars believed that they 
were just as capable as classical masters like al-Shafi‘i and Abu Hanifa of deriving 
laws directly from the Quran and the Prophet’s teachings.” El-Rouayheb clarifies 
that for nonjurists the opposite of taqlid was tahqiq (verification), not ijtihad; see 
his discussion on taqlid and ijtihad in Islamic Intellectual History in the Seventeenth 
Century, 357-9.

309 Ermin Sinanović, “Islamic Revival as Development: Discourses on Islam, Modernity 
and Democracy since the 1950s,” Politics, Religion & Ideology 13, no. 1 (2012): 3-24.

310 Tareen, Defending Muḥammad in Modernity.

311 Ibid.

312 The concept of the “ideal Muslim woman” was evident in other parts of the Muslim 
world as well, such as Iran, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia.

313 Darakhshan Khan, “In Good Company: Reformist Piety and Women’s Daʿwat in 
the Tablīghī Jamāʿat,” The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 35, no. 3 (July 
2018): 1–33.

314 Ibid.

315 Ibid.

316 Norbani B. Ismail, “Female Preachers and the Public Discourse on Islam in Malaysia,” 
The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 33, no. 4 (2016): 24–47.



F O R U M     271

317 For details on how some Uzbek women operate religious schools in their homes, 
see Svetlana Peshkova, Women, Islam, and Identity: Public Life in Private Spaces in 
Uzbekistan (Syracuse, New York: Syracuse University Press, 2014).

318 For recent engagement on this topic, see Shuruq Naguib, “Islam and the Epistemic 
Politics of Gender: A Decolonial Moment,” American Journal of Islam and Society 
38, no. 1-2 (2021): 2-19; Hadia Mubarak, Rebellious Wives, Neglectful Husbands: 
Controversies in Modern Qur’anic Commentaries (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 
2022).

319 Brown, Hadith.

320 Ibid.

321 Ibid.

322 Ibid.

323 Ibid.

324 Ibid., 295.

325 Ibid. See Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism, 24ff on the various differences among 
Salafis.

326 Emad Hamdeh, “Qurʾān and Sunna or the Madhhabs? A Salafi Polemic Against 
Islamic Legal Tradition,” Islamic Law and Society 24, no. 3 (June 2017): 211–253.

327 Ibid. Hamdeh explains, “The fall of the Ottoman Empire and the rise of secular gov-
ernments in the Muslim world resulted in a decline of Traditionalist ‘ulama authority 
and pedagogical methods. As Traditionalist scholars lost their powerful positions, a 
vacuum in religious authority emerged. These changes took Traditionalists by sur-
prise and some of them held on to the madhhabs in a very rigid fashion as a way of 
rejecting secularism. Albani grew up in this atmosphere of unbending madhhabism, 
which contributed to his disdain for Traditionalists” (216).

328 Ibid.

329 Emad Hamdeh, “The Formative Years of an Iconoclastic Salafi Scholar,” The Muslim 
World 106, no. 3 (July 2016): 411–432.

330 Hamdeh, “Qurʾān and Sunna or the Madhhabs?”

331 Ibid., 218. Hamdeh adds, “Had he conceded that his conclusions involved an inter-
pretive process he would not have been able to claim to depend only on scripture. 
In other words, instead of Salafism being based on the absolute truth it would just 
be another madhhab trying to understand texts” (218).

332 Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism.

333 Ibid.

334 Ibid.

335 Hamdeh, “The Formative Years.” 

336 Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism, 118.



272    A M E R i C A N  J O U R N A L  O F  i S L A M  A N d  S O C i E t Y  39 : 3 - 4

337 This was severely criticized by al-Albani. See Hamdeh, “The Formative Years,” 
421-424.

338 Brown, Hadith.

339 Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism.

340 Brown, Hadith.

341 Hamdeh, Salafism and Traditionalism.

342 See Tareen, Defending Muhammad in Modernity, 15-24. This simplistic dichotomy 
is in clear contradiction with what has been discussed earlier, that “following the 
Sufi path requires adherence to the dictates of the law” (19).

343 For the purposes of this article, I have adapted Maha Hilal’s discussion of internal-
ized Islamophobia in the context of War on Terror. See her Innocent Until Proven 
Muslim: Islamophobia, The War on Terror, and the Muslim Experience since 9/11 
(Minneapolis: Broadleaf Books, 2021).