Abstract: The miraculous nature of the Qurʾan is one of the most important topics discussed in the Sciences of the Qurʾan (ʿulūm al-Qurʾān). There are two basic views regarding the inimitability of the Qurʾan and the source of its miraculous nature. Most scholars are of the opinion that this inimitability stems from an essential quality within the Qurʾan, for example, its eloquence, the loftiness of its meanings, etc. However, a small fraction of Qurʾanic researchers say that this stems from something outside the Qurʾan itself, i.e., the power and choice of God. The latter state that if the Qurʾan were essentially inimitable, then: (1) all of the Qurʾan would not be a miracle; (2) it would be easier to distinguish the difference between the Qurʾan and an ordinary eloquent sentence, than the difference between an ordinary eloquent sentence and an ordinary uneloquent sentence; (3) the Companions would not mistake texts that did not belong to the Qurʾan with the Qurʾanic text, and they would not doubt whether something was a part of the Qurʾan; (4) and either the Qurʾan would not quote human beings from the past, or these quotes would not be parts of the Qurʾan. Conversely, those who say that the Qurʾan is essentially inimitable say that if the inimitability of the Qurʾan stemmed from something outside it, then: 1) the inimitability of the Qurʾan would not have to last forever for it to be a miracle; 2) its opponents would not be amazed at the nature of the Qurʾan itself, rather, by their inability to imitate it; and 3) that works similar to the Qurʾan would have existed before it. Upon careful consideration of the proofs of both sides of this debate, we see that those of the adherents of the essential inimitability of the Qurʾan are somewhat stronger. Thus, it is a more acceptable view regarding the miraculous nature of the Qurʾan and its inimitability.

Key Words: Qurʾan, inimitability, essential inimitability, accidental inimitability, miracle, eloquence. 

Introduction

Discussions surrounding the miraculous nature of the Qurʾan and its inimitability have intrigued Islamic scholars for many centuries. This intrigue stemmed from the various theological issues that undergird these debates. There is a difference of opinion amongst Qurʾanic researchers regarding why the Qurʾan is inimitable. Generally speaking, there are two main views in this regard. Most scholars are of the opinion that there is something essential to the Qurʾan that does not allow it to be reproduced by man. Its eloquence, the loftiness of its meanings, and its predictions of future events are qualities that human beings are incapable of incorporating in their own works. However, there are a small number of scholars who say that the Qurʾan is not inherently inimitable through a theory called ṣarfah. Rather, human beings can also produce something similar to the Qurʾan. If they do not, then this is because God prevents them from doing so. Thus, the inimitability of the Qurʾan stems from something outside it, i.e., the will and power of God.

The scholars of the second group, those who believe in ṣarfah, differ amongst themselves regarding how God prevents humans from imitating the Qurʾan. Some say that He does not give them the motive to do so. Others say that while humans have the motive to imitate the Qurʾan, God does not allow them to make the intention to do so. Finally, a group of scholars say that God removes from people the knowledge of how to imitate the Qurʾan when they make the intention to do so. Some say that this removal of knowledge may occur before the Qurʾan is revealed, while others say that it only occurs afterwards.

There is also a difference of opinion regarding why certain scholars believe in ṣarfah. However, the stronger view is that this theory stems from the arguments for ṣarfah that will be discussed hereunder. In the forthcoming, we will discuss some of the arguments for the legitimacy of ṣarfah and answer them. Thereafter, we will look at the arguments that the proponents of the essential inimitability of the Qurʾan have presented. We hope to show that the inimitability of the Qurʾan is essential to it because its arguments are the soundest.

Arguments for Ṣarfah

Rational Arguments:

1st Argument: If the Qurʾan were Essentially Miraculous, then Its Entirety could not be a Miracle.

We can prove the truth of the first premise of this argument in the following manner:

We can prove the truth of the first premise of this argument in the following manner: The underlying idea behind this premise is that if we say there is a hierarchy to sentence structures, then the one that falls outside of the power of man would only be the highest of these. The lower levels would be the ones that other beings could produce. This is because there is a similitude between an agent and its effect.

If there were a specific type of sentence structure man is essentially incapable of producing, then the various sentence structures that could convey a single meaning would be subject to gradation. This implies that the highest of these sentence structures would be the one that could not be produced by man. And those that can be produced by him would fall on a lower scale of the hierarchy of these sentence structures. If this were true, those lower grades would not be miraculous, and therefore, the entire Qurʾan would not be miraculous. This is because the Qurʾan expresses similar meanings using different sentence structures, some of which—based upon the abovementioned line of reasoning—cannot be inimitable and miraculous. However, the entire Qurʾan is miraculous.

This argument for ṣarfah is clearly invalid. It is true that if certain forms of speech were miraculous and others were not, then there would be a hierarchy to forms of speech. However, we cannot say that the essentially miraculous form of speech could only be the one situated at the highest degree in this hierarchy. It is also equally possible for there to be a number of forms of speech that are lower than the singularly highest possibility, but which are still essentially inimitable and miraculous.

Secondly, the primary reason used to substantiate this argument—that there is a necessary similitude between the agent and its effect—is not only false, but incapable of being applied to the case at hand. This proposition apparently stems from the philosophical principle that an effect must be similar to its cause. Thus, if the cause of the inimitability of the Qurʾan were the eloquence that God placed in it, then that eloquence would have to be infinitely great, just like its cause, which is God. In conclusion, anything lower than the highest levels of eloquence could not be a part of the Qurʾan—since it would not stem from God—and would be imitable. However, this philosophical principle has long been proven invalid—as noted by many great Islamic philosophers.^[2]Mullā Ṣadrā is of the opinion that the simpler a reality is, the more meanings it will contain in itself. “A simple reality is all things.” The more meanings it contains, the more effects it will be able to produce. Based on this reasoning, this sage disagreed with the Peripatetic philosophers who said that since the human soul is a simple being, it can only have one type of effect, i.e., intellection, and that the rest of the effects that we see within the human being must be carried out by faculties that serve as tools for the human being. According to Mullā Ṣadrā, “The soul in its unity is all of its faculties and their effects are contained within its effect.” The same can be said of God, who is the simplest of all beings.

Thirdly, even if this principle were true, it could only be applied to the first effect of God, i.e., the being that is immediately produced by Him. It could not be applied to those beings that are created by God through a medium, as is the case with the Qurʾan. According to Qurʾanic scholars, the Qurʾan’s verses were revealed in various ways to the Prophet (ṣ). Only certain verses were revealed to him (ṣ) directly. The others were revealed through the medium of an angel or even several angels.

Finally, this argument relies upon a false assumption, i.e., that the Qurʾan repeats the same ideas in different words. According to most experts in the field of Qurʾanic studies, there is no real repetition in the Qurʾan. Meaning, although basic Qurʾanic ideas may be repeated, specific meanings are not.

2nd Argument: If the Qurʾan Were Essentially a Miracle, It Would Be Easier to Distinguish the Difference between the Qurʾan and a non-Qurʾanic Eloquent Sentence, than the Difference between a non-Qurʾanic Eloquent Sentence and an Uneloquent Sentence.

This argument can be refuted in a number of ways. First of all, it seems that the proponent of this argument assumes that if the Qurʾan were essentially a miracle, then it would be easier for all human beings to distinguish the difference between the Qurʾan and an ordinary eloquent sentence, than the difference between an ordinary eloquent sentence and an ordinary uneloquent sentence. If true, then we cannot agree with the first premise of this argument. This is because there is no necessary connection between the antecedent and the consequent here. In other words, while it is true that the consequent is false, and not everyone can distinguish the difference between the Qurʾan and an ordinary eloquent statement easier than between an uneloquent statement and an ordinary eloquent one (in other words, the second premise is true), there is no connection between this and the Qurʾan’s being essentially miraculous. This is akin to saying that if the works of Shakespeare were really much better than that of a high-school English teacher, then everyone could distinguish between these two easier than they could distinguish between the works of the aforementioned English teacher and that of their pupil. This is clearly a false statement. Rather, the person for whom it is easier to understand the difference in question is the one who is an expert in the field in which the work of arts are produced. If this is what the proponent of this argument is trying to state (that is, if the Qurʾan were essentially a miracle, then it would be easier for an expert of Arabic literature to discern between the Qurʾan and a non-Qurʾanic eloquent sentence, than between that non-Qurʾanic eloquent sentence and an uneloquent sentence), then the first premise of the argument is valid. Nevertheless, the second premise is false. This is because history tells us that the pagan Arabs clearly discerned the difference between the Qurʾan and their eloquent poems much more easily than the difference between the latter and ordinary speech.

3^rd Argument: If the Qurʾan Were Essentially Miraculous, then the Companions Would not Make Mistakes in Distinguishing It.

The answer to this argument is similar to that of the previous one. The proponent of this argument is under the assumption that in order for the Qurʾan to be essentially inimitable, it has to be infinitely greater than the most eloquent of human speech. In this case, it would be easily recognizable and distinguishable. However, we showed why this assumption is incorrect in the answer to the previous argument.

4^th Argument: There Is no Reason to Believe that the Qurʾan is Inimitable.

The impossibility of all the options mentioned in the consequent of the second premise of the argument is self-evident. Otherwise, if it were impossible for us to utter the words the Qurʾan is composed of, or if we could not combine them, then we would be unable to read the Qurʾan. This is because we have to pronounce these words, and combine them together in order to read them. However, we do read the Qurʾan. Therefore, both of these options are wrong.

Also, we cannot say that it is impossible for us to have knowledge of what combination of words produces a miraculous text, since this would necessitate that we would be unable to grasp the miraculous nature of the Qurʾan. However, we do grasp this. Therefore, this option is also incorrect. And, if all of these options are incorrect, then the Qurʾan is not essentially miraculous.

This argument is clearly invalid. Our point of contention is whether a human being can invent something like the Qurʾan, not whether or not he can unconditionally produce it. While it is true that in order to be able to invent something, you have to be able to produce it, the converse of this statement is not true. If someone could not copy the Mona Lisa, he certainly would not be able to invent it. However, it is not true to say that if someone was able to copy it, then he could also invent it.

5^th Argument: If the Qurʾan Were Essentially Miraculous, It Would not Quote Others.

This argument can be answered in two ways. First, it is based on the idea that the Qurʾan quotes these individuals verbatim. This is debatable, as most of the people that it quotes were not Arabic speakers. Secondly, even if we assume that the Qurʾan directly quotes human beings, this would not invalidate the essential inimitability of the Qurʾan. This is because the Qurʾan does not appear to challenge human beings to imitate a single verse of the Qurʾan; rather, the Qurʾan only challenges human beings to imitate the entire Qurʾan, ten chapters from the Qurʾan, or even a single full chapter. In essence, the fallacy in this argument lies in that its proponent assumes that the Qurʾan challenges human beings to imitate individual verses.

6^th Argument: If the Qurʾan Were Essentially Inimitable, then Words Would not Indicate Their Meanings through Coining.

This argument can be answered in the following manner: We agree with the fact that coining, that is, the attribute of indication^[7]Also called, “signification.” that individual words have—stems from humans. However, this does not imply that only humans coin the combination of words—in the form of sentences and paragraphs—to indicate meanings. If the latter is what the proponent of this argument is claiming, then the falsity of the consequent can be called into question, even though there may be a necessary connection between the antecedent and the consequent of the first premise. However, if the former is what he is claiming—i.e., that humans coin individual words to refer to certain meanings—then there is no necessary connection between the antecedent and the consequent, even though the antecedent may in fact be false.

7^th Argument: The Qurʾan Is Subject to Being Abrogated.

We can prove the second premise of this argument in the following manner:

This argument is clearly invalid. The fallacy in the argument stems from the word “essential” used in the phrase “essential inimitability.” Apparently, the person making the argument assumes that this essential inimitability is absolute and related to all beings, even God. No one ever made such a claim. “Essential inimitability” implies that the Qurʾan is not capable of being imitated by man due to a quality, which is essentially inherent within it, not because of some extraneous factor. Thus, this argument also rests on fallacious grounds.

Religious Arguments

1^st Argument:

Although God does not explicitly state here that the disbelievers are lying, the 30^th to 32^nd verses of this chapter relate certain false claims of the disbelievers. This is a clue that this claim is also probably false. This probability renders this argument indecisive.

2^nd Argument:

Apparently, this verse has nothing to do with the topic at hand. This is because the word āyāt (signs) is a reference to the cosmological signs of God’s power that exist in the external world, not the verses of the Qurʾan.

What is more, it states that the pride of these individuals prevents them from believing in God, even though they witness the signs of God’s power in the horizons.

Arguments Against Ṣarfah

1^st Argument: The Opponents of the Qurʾan Were Amazed at the Eloquence of the Qurʾan.

2^nd Argument: The Inimitability of the Qurʾan is Eternal.

It seems that this argument is somewhat problematic. Apparently, the only thing that can be gathered from the verses of the Qurʾan is that the Qurʾan will never be reproduced by humans. It does not say that it cannot be reproduced by humans. This is while the consequent of the first premise allows for it to be reproduced later on without contradicting its miraculous nature. Thus, the matter that has actually been affirmed in the consequent has not been negated in the second premise. This objection seems warranted enough, unless someone could prove that the emphasis that the Qurʾan places on this matter proves that it will not occur and, what is more, that it is also impossible.

3^rdArgument: The Qurʾan was not Preceded by Anything like It.

4^th Argument: If the Inimitability of the Qurʾan Stemmed from Something Outside It, then It Should Have Used the Least Eloquent of Words.

Conclusion

Now that we have seen the arguments for and against the theory of the accidental inimitability of the Qurʾan, we can conclude that this theory is logically unsound and religiously unacceptable. Therefore, the only rationally and religiously acceptable theory is to say that the Qurʾan is essentially inimitable and miraculous.

And all praise is due to Allah, the Lord of the worlds.

Sayyid Shiraz Husain Agha teaches the rational sciences in the seminary of Qum, Iran.

گو ہاتھ کو جنبش نہیں آنکھوں میں تو دم ہے
رہنے دو ابھی ساغر و مینا مرے آگے

Though my hand is lifeless, I can still see;
So let the chalice and flagon remain before me.

–Ghalib^[1]Dīvān, ghazal 208. “Ghalib” is the pen name of Mirzā Asadullāh Khān (d. 1869), one of the greatest poets to have composed verse in Urdu.

What does Islam say about X? Why do Muslims do Y? These are good questions. A problem, however, arises when one demands an answer in the form of: “The Qurʾan says Z.” This demand, what we might call “scripturalism,” is based on at least three presumptions: (1) the Qurʾan “says” something; (2) Islam is identical with what the Qurʾan says; and (3) what the Qurʾan says causes the actions of Muslims. All three presumptions are problematic, but I will only address the first. Muslims devoted to Ali should be suspicious of the idea that the Qurʾan “says” something, for Haydar-i Karrar is reported to have said, “This is the silent book of God, and I am the speaking book of God.”^[2]Muḥammad ibn al-Ḥasan al-Ḥurr al-ʿAmilī, Wasāʾil al-Shīʿah, vol. 27 (Beirut: Muʾassassah Ahl al-Bayt li-Iḥyāʾ al-Turāth, 1413 A.H.), hadith #33147, p. 34; and Muḥammad Bāqir al-Majlisī, Biḥār al-Anwār, vol. 30 (Beirut: Dār Iḥyāʾ al-Turāth al-Arabiyyah, 1403 A.H.), p. 546.

Shiʿi scholars debated the value of the Qurʾan as a source of information about law. These debates emerged from within broader discussions about the value of hadith—i.e., akhbār al-āḥād—for law.^[3]In general, there are two categories of hadith: mutawātir and khabar al-wāḥid (pl. āḥād). Mutawātir hadith, like Ḥadith al-Thaqalayn, are so widely transmitted that they give rise to certitude. Any hadith that does not give rise to certitude is called khabar al-wāḥid. The vast majority of aḥādīth (including ṣaḥīḥ hadith) are generally regarded as āḥād. Because mutawātir hadith are beyond the scope of this discussion, I use the familiar term “hadith” in place of the technical term “akhbār al-āḥād.” Readers should note that this usage is technically inaccurate. The use of hadith posed a particular problem for Shiʿi jurists because hadith do not give rise to certitude.^[4]Among Shiʿi scholars, Ibn Qibah (d. before 319/931) held that God cannot ask humans to use hadith to establish law because that runs contrary to reason (since hadith do not give rise to certitude); everything that runs contrary to reason is repugnant, and God cannot do that which is repugnant. The argument is based on a principle according to which human reason grasps what is good and evil without the aid of revelation. Even if it is theoretically possible to establish law on the basis of hadith, we may not have any evidence that God actually endorsed this possibility. Al-Sharīf al-Murtaḍā (d. 436/1044) held that there is no evidence that God ever endorsed this theoretical possibility. Abū Jaʿfar al-Ṭūsī (d. 459/1067) held that the consensus of the early Shiʿi community is ultimately our best reason to believe that God has in fact endorsed the use of hadith. One of the best discussions of this issue is found in Maʿālim al-Uṣūl by al-Ḥasan b. Zayn al-Dīn al-ʿĀmilī (d. 1602-1603), who is known as Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim on account of this book.^[5]Maʿālim al-Uṣūl (Qum: Dār al-Fikr, 1415), p. 263-76. Maʿālim al-Uṣūl was used as a textbook in Shiʿi institutions of learning until modern times. In the 20^th century, some teachers substituted it with Uṣūl al-Fiqh by Muḥammad Riḍā al-Muẓaffar (d. 1964).

First, Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim establishes that the Lawgiver has allowed us to use hadith for law. As evidence of this fact, he cites: (1) Qurʾan 9:122, (2) Qurʾan 49:6, (3) the common practice of early Imāmīs, and (4) “the closing of the gate of knowledge” (insidād bāb al-ʿilm). Of these four pieces of evidence, “the closing of the gate of knowledge” is noteworthy because it was a new argument. According to this argument, the passage of time has made it impossible to obtain certitude about the majority of sharʿī directives (al-aḥkām al-sharʿiyyah). What we have left are indications that give rise to supposition. He then proceeds to flesh out his argument by responding to a series of rhetorical objections.

First, one might argue that the well-established Sunnah (as opposed to individual hadith), consensus, the presumption that no obligation exists unless proven otherwise (aṣālat al-barāʾah), and the Qurʾan provide ways out of the conundrum, since each of these give rise to certitude. Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim dismisses each of these arguments: (1) much of the renowned Sunnah is lost; (2) we obtain knowledge of a consensus through reports, which are functionally equivalent to hadith (and therefore not definitive); (3) the presumption of exemption can only produce supposition; and (4) the significance of the Qurʾan is suppositional (i.e., the Qurʾan is ẓannī al-dalālah). Having ruled these out, Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim concludes that we have no choice but to rely on supposition; the alternative would be to ignore even supposition and act as if we have no obligations before God, a patently false claim.

From here, Sāḥib al-Maʿālim proceeds to argue that supposition can either be weak or strong, and reason dictates that a strong supposition should be prioritized over a weak one. Although hadith do not give rise to certitude, in many cases they do give rise to a type of supposition that is much stronger than what we can glean from other indicators of law, including the Qurʾan. Therefore, there is no basis for prioritizing the text of the Qurʾan over hadith. By framing the issue in terms of “evidentiary value” (ḥujjiyyah), Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim was able to demonstrate that hadith, while problematic in some respects, are often the best evidence available to us.

By framing the issue in terms of “evidentiary value” (ḥujjiyyah), Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim was able to demonstrate that hadith, while problematic in some respects, are often the best evidence available to us.

To help us think through his argument, Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim asks us to consider the law of evidence. In some cases, sharīʿah requires the testimony of two eyewitnesses, and such testimony gives rise to supposition. It is conceivable that, in some cases, the testimony of one eyewitness gives rise to a stronger supposition than the testimony of two eyewitnesses. For example, the testimony of one expert eyewitness may be more credible than the testimony of two eyewitnesses who are not experts. If a strong supposition universally outweighs a weak supposition, then a judge should be allowed to issue his verdict on the basis of the testimony of one eyewitness, but we know that is forbidden. This, then, is a counterexample to the claim that a strong supposition always outweighs a weak one.

In response to this counterargument, Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim notes that the law of evidence is not in fact based on supposition. Rather, the testimony of two righteous eyewitnesses is itself “dispositive.” In other words, the Lawgiver has not asked us to weigh the relative value of testimonies; he has instructed us to follow a specific procedure. Similarly, we do not need to be certain that the sun has reached its zenith to know that it is time for the noon prayer; it is sufficient to rely on certain indications that the sun has reached its zenith. Those indications are dispositive in and of themselves. Cases like this are exceptional precisely because we have been instructed to follow a specific procedure, not weigh levels of certainty.

The next objection he asks us to consider is whether the value of the Qurʾan (for the purpose of law) is really comparable to the value of hadith. The false equivalence between the Qurʾan and hadith is based on a failure to take an important presumption into account: it is unconscionable for a wise Lawgiver to use expressions that prima facie mean one thing while intending something else, without providing some indication that the prima facie meaning is not what is intended. In other words, in the absence of evidence to the contrary, a wise Lawgiver means what He says. Although the Qurʾan and hadith both give rise to supposition, this presumption distinguishes supposition obtained from the Qurʾan. Therefore, while the text of the Qurʾan constitutes evidence, hadith do not.

In response to this objection, Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim notes that all of the Qurʾan’s directives are “oral speech” (khiṭāb al-mushāfahah), and oral speech is only authoritative for its original audience.^[6]For example, consider the following sentence: I only high-five Cubs’ fans. If we were to analyze this sentence grammatically, it would mean that you don’t hug Cubs’ fans or shake their hands, because “only” is an adverb modifying “high-five.” In ordinary speech, however, the context makes it clear that you mean you don’t high-five Mets’ fans or Yankees’ fans. The crucial context is normally available to the person with whom you are speaking, but not necessarily to others. Extending these directives to subsequent generations requires additional evidence. We have two additional pieces of evidence to substantiate the extension: consensus and the principle of “necessity” (ḍarūrah). So our ability to cite the text of the Qurʾan ultimately rests on two “indications” (amārāt) that give rise to strong supposition. But hadith are also indications that give rise to strong supposition, so why would they not constitute evidence too?

In this section of Maʿālim al-Uṣūl, Ṣāḥib al-Maʿālim puts on a clinic of juristic virtuosity (faqāhah). One cannot help but feel a degree of admiration for him that is normally reserved for the likes of Salman, Ammar, Miqdad, and Buzarr. What he demonstrates for his reader is the grave consequence of rejecting hadith in toto: if you reject hadith because they do not give rise to certitude, then you have no basis to cite the Qurʾan. Citing the Qurʾan while rejecting hadith entails an arbitrary acceptance of some suppositions. This is an important lesson for Muslim modernists and “reformers” who advocate scripturalism: if you wish to consider the Qurʾan as evidence, you must also consider hadith as evidence. They are—as the one from whom “the nightingale learnt its sweet song” said—inseparable.^[7]Jāmī. Gul az rukhat āmūkhtah.

This is an important lesson for Muslim modernists and “reformers” who advocate scripturalism: if you wish to consider the Qurʾan as evidence, you must also consider hadith as evidence. They are—as the one from whom “the nightingale learnt its sweet song” said—inseparable.

Finally, the Qurʾan is not simply (or even primarily) a source of information. It presents itself as “guidance for those who are mindful of God: those who believe in the unseen, establish the prayer, and spend out of what we have provided for them.”^[8]Qurʾan, al-Baqarah (2):2-3. According to some aḥādīth,^[9]See, for example: al-Kāfī, vol. 8, hadith #485, p. 311. only those whom the Qurʾan addresses—i.e., the Prophet and his House—understand it adequately. Based on these aḥādīth, a minority of Imami scholars argued that a jurist cannot obtain knowledge of law from the Qurʾan. To understand the Qurʾan’s directives, a jurist must rely on hadith. Even if we were to concede this point, it would not diminish the value of the Qurʾan as guidance. For “Though my hand is lifeless, I can still see. So, let the chalice and flagon remain before me.”

Aun Hasan Ali is Assistant Professor of Islamic Studies in the Department of Religious Studies at the University of Colorado Boulder. He received his PhD from McGill University’s Institute of Islamic Studies in 2016. His research focuses on the intellectual history of Imami Shiʿism. Currently, he is completing a co-authored book on the use of hadith in Imami law, and he is working on another book about the development of Imami Shiʿism in Hillah.

For over a millennium, the Qurʾan has functioned as the ultimate source of authority for Muslims across the world. This authority is not particular to matters of worship; rather, it extends to how Muslims eat, drink, marry, conduct business, and govern their behavior in social settings. Despite this, the Qurʾan does not fulfill the conditions of law as defined by contemporary philosophers of law. How are we to understand the authority of the Qurʾan? Is it merely moral? Or is it in fact legal, even though it does not fit what is called “law” today?

What Does It Mean for a Text to be “Legal?”

Let us first briefly explain what is meant by “contemporary definitions of law.” Essentially, for something to be legal, it has to be enforceable by a sovereign (worldly) authority, such as a king or the modern state. This understanding can be gathered from the works of influential scholars of Western moral and legal philosophy, such as John Austin, H. L. A. Hart, Thomas Hobbes, and Imannuel Kant. Furthermore, a clear distinction is made between law and morality, between facts and value; law is that which is implemented, whether it is what ought to be implemented or not. In this conception of law, there is no room for the word of God or any broader philosophy rooted in abstract concepts, as they do not represent the will of the “sovereign.” Morality, meanwhile, is only to be determined by objective laws discovered by human reason, not by religious scripture.^[1]Wael Hallaq, “Groundwork of the Moral Law: A New Look at the Qur’ān and the Genesis of Sharī‘a,” Islamic Law and Society, vol. 16, No. 3/4 (2009), p. 250-1.

The Qurʾan Does not Fulfill the Conditions of Contemporary Legal Texts

The Qurʾan’s dictates, however, do not require the enforcement of a sovereign authority, let alone the enforcement of a state;^[2]The “modern state” is a modern concept, and clearly did not exist at the time of the Qurʾanic revelation. do not distinguish between law and morality, or what is the law and what should be the law; and make very clear that God, and not the reasoning of man, determines what is right or wrong.

The Qurʾan’s dictates, however, do not require the enforcement of a sovereign authority, let alone the enforcement of a state; do not distinguish between law and morality, or what is the law and what should be the law; and make very clear that God, and not the reasoning of man, determines what is right or wrong.

As a result, Orientalists of the twentieth century largely dismissed the Qurʾan’s legal authority. Joseph Schacht, a British-German scholar of Islamic law and hadith, maintained that so-called “Muhammadan law” did not originate with the Qurʾan, but rather, was derived from the popular and administrative practices of the Umayyads, whose reign began decades after the Prophet (ṣ) departed this world. Law in the Qurʾan, according to Schacht, was confined to an “essentially ethical and only incidentally legal body of maxims…”^[3]Joseph Schacht, Origins of Muhammadan Jurisprudence (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1950), p. 224. J. N. D. Anderson, a British Arabist, wrote that the Prophet (ṣ) “made no attempt to work out any comprehensive legal system, a task for which he seems to have been singularly ill-fitted: instead he contented himself with what went little beyond ‘ad hoc’ amendments to the existing customary law.”^[4]J. N. D. Anderson, “Recent Developments in Sharī‘a Law,” The Muslim World 40, Issue 4 (1950), p. 245. In A History of Islamic Law, N. J. Coulson, a scholar of Islamic law, agreed with Anderson, writing that the legal verses of the Qurʾan are not general rules, but rather “ad hoc solutions for particular problems.”^[5]N. J. Coulson, A History of Islamic Law (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1964), p. 13. And Coulson believed only about eighty verses of the Qurʾan “deal with legal topics in the strict sense of the term.”^[6]Coulson, A History of Islamic Law, p. 12. By that he means the remaining verses pertain to “religious duties and ritual practices of prayer, fasting, and pilgrimage.”^[7]Coulson, A History of Islamic Law, p. 12. Even then, he argued, most of the eighty verses are ethical matters not backed by earthly authority.^[8]Coulson, A History of Islamic Law, p. 17-18. “In short,” he wrote, “the primary purpose of the Qurʾan is to regulate not the relationship of man with his fellows, but his relationship with his Creator.”^[9]Coulson, A History of Islamic Law, p. 12.

When we read such statements about law in the Qurʾan, it becomes clear that Orientalists dismiss law in the Qurʾan because it does not meet the requirements of contemporary definitions of law, not on the basis of the ontological framework of the Qurʾan itself. Rather, such scholars evaluate the Qurʾan in the context of a moral scheme borrowed from Aristotle that came to dominate Europe in the Middle Ages. Aristotle’s original theory articulated that there is a fundamental contrast between what man happens to be and what he could be if he realized his essential nature. His scheme was then altered when placed in the context of religions. In the Christian context, the dichotomy of what man is and what he could be remained, but sin came to replace the Aristotelian concept of error and the Afterlife became the ultimate goal.

Meanwhile, in the secular discussions of eighteenth-century moral philosophers like David Hume and Kant, the scheme was adapted further. In the thought of Hume and Kant, man has no essential nature, and no moral goal that he is to achieve. However, they still distinguish between what man is and what he strives to be.^[10]Alasdair MacIntyre, After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2007), p. 52-5. Placed in the context of law, this dichotomy gives us the distinction between legal facts and morality—what is and what should be—which became the only acceptable paradigm for thinking about law. When the context of contemporary discussions of law is made clear, one can see why it is inappropriate to impose this paradigm upon the Qurʾan, a book that provides a very different understanding of legal authority, legal enforcement, and the dichotomy of law and morality.

The Nature of the Qurʾan’s Legal Authority

The Qurʾan calls upon Muslims to do what is good, just,^[11]See Qurʾan, an-Naḥl (16):90. “Surely God bids to justice and good-doing and giving to kinsmen; and He forbids indecency, dishonour, and insolence, admonishing you, so that haply you will remember.” (Arberry) known to us by our very nature,^[12]See Qurʾan, ar-Rūm (30):30. “So set thy face to the religion, a man of pure faith — God’s original upon which He originated mankind. There is no changing God’s creation. That is the right religion; but most men know it not…” and to follow the way of previous prophets and religious figures. Right and wrong are determined by God, not human reason. While modern legal thought maintains that law must be grounded in a sovereign authority such as the state, the Qurʾan emphasizes that authority belongs solely to God. All other authority, including that of a worldly sovereign, is subservient to His authority. Any perceived power or authority of the state only exists by God’s permission, and is but one extension of His infinite power and authority. In other words, true sovereignty belongs to God alone,^[13]Qurʾan, al-Mulk (67):1. “Blessed be He in whose hand is the Kingdom — He is powerful over everything…” and He gives sovereignty to whom He wills, empowering and diminishing those He wills.^[14]Qurʾan, Āl ʿImrān (3):26. “Say: ‘O God, Master of the Kingdom, Thou givest the Kingdom to whom Thou wilt, and seizest the Kingdom from whom Thou wilt, Thou exaltest whom Thou wilt, and Thou abasest whom Thou wilt; in Thy hand is the good; Thou art powerful over everything.”

Of course, the Qurʾan does contain both promises (Paradise) and threats (Hellfire). But that is not the basis of its authority. Incidentally, the source of a secular government is also not imprisonment or other forms of punishment, but rather the willingness of its constituents to observe its laws. So the source of the Qurʾan’s authority is different from the outcome of obeying or disobeying that authority. In other words, why we obey the Qurʾan is different from what happens if we do or do not obey the Qurʾan. And the reason we obey the Qurʾan is because it instills in us a sense of awareness of our duty toward God, i.e., piety. This same logic can be applied to other means of worldly enforcement, such as al-amr bi-l-maʿrūf wa-n-nahy ʿan-l-munkar;^[15]Commanding the good and prohibiting the evil. this enforcement is not carried out by the legislator (God), but rather depends on the piety and self-accountability of believers. A modern state, meanwhile, must establish its authority by directly involving itself in the affairs of people, oftentimes by way of the threat of violence.

The Qurʾan’s Means of Legal Enforcement

Unlike the modern state, the Qurʾan does not require violence to establish its values (like the piety of mankind) and achieve its purpose (helping believers gain nearness to God and a fortunate position in the Afterlife), nor does it require outward manifestations of power to reduce its audience to submission. Rather, it calls upon the hearts of its readers, speaking to the depths of their souls and asking them to reflect upon their nature and upon God’s signs.^[16]Qurʾan, az-Zukhruf (41):53. “We shall show them Our signs in the horizons and in themselves, till it is clear to them that it is the truth. Suffices it not as to thy Lord, that He is witness over everything?” In doing so, it is expected that the honest will emerge with an awareness of God. This awareness, in turn, instills in them a form of self-policing that is far more effective in governing the actions of mankind; no matter how advanced modern surveillance becomes, it will never rival the surveillance of the One who sees all that we do,^[17]Qurʾan, al-Baqarah (2):96, 110, 233, 237, 265; Āl ʿImrān (3):15, 20, 156, 163; al-Māʾidah (5):71; al-Anfāl (8):39, 72; Hūd (11):112; al-Aḥzāb (33):9; Sabaʾ (34):11; Fuṣṣilat (41):40; al-Fatḥ (48):24; al-Ḥujurāt (49):18; al-Ḥadīd (57):4; al-Mumtaḥanah (60):3; and at-Taghābun (64):2. Of course, many other verses discuss God’s ability to see His servants. sees when we disobey Him,^[18]Qurʾan, al-Isrāʾ (17):17. “How many generations We have destroyed after Noah! Thy Lord suffices as one who is aware of and sees the sins of His servants.” and whose knowledge encompasses all that is on land and in water, including any leaf that falls or a grain in the darkness of the earth.^[19]Qurʾan, al-Anʿām (6):59. “With Him are the keys of the Unseen; none knows them but He. He knows what is in land and sea; not a leaf falls, but He knows it. Not a grain in the earth’s shadows, not a thing, fresh or withered, but it is in a Book Manifest.” Proper servants of God are wary of their duties toward Him in private,^[20]See Qurʾan, al-Māʾidah (5):94; al-Anbiyāʾ(21):49; Fāṭir (35):18; Yāsīn (36):11; Qāf (50):33; and al-Mulk (67):12. that is, far from the eyes of their fellow human beings.

Proper servants of God are wary of their duties toward Him in private, that is, far from the eyes of their fellow human beings.

Furthermore, the power by which God’s laws are enforced in the Qurʾan—that is, piety—is more effective than the power by which the law of the sovereign state is enforced—that is, violence—even when it comes to laws of the state itself. An example can be found in the concept of ḥifẓ al-niẓām. As articulated by Shiʿi fuqahāʾ, ḥifẓ al-niẓām demands that believers obey the laws of the land they reside in, regardless of the religious or political dynamics of that land. Prominent marājiʿ like Sayyid Abū-l-Qāsim al-Khūʾī^[21]Abū-l-Qāsim al-Khūʾī, Ṣirāṭ al-Nijāt, vol. 3 (Qum: Jāmiʿ Mawādd al-Kitāb, 1997), p. 297. and Sayyid ʿAlī al-Sīstānī have stated that any law—like traffic laws—required for order and safety in society must be followed, and that it is not permissible to break a law that was put in place with the best interests of people in mind.^[22]ʿAlī al-Sīstānī, “al-Istiftāʾāt: al-Taqyīd bi-l-Aḥkām wa-l-Qawānīn,” web, accessed: March 30, 2018 <http://www.sistani.org/arabic/qa/02207/>. These fatwas, when combined with the sense of duty God has outlined for believers in the Qurʾan, are capable of producing an ideal citizen in any society.

Consider the following anecdote, which illustrates how a believer’s piety provides a very different enforcement mechanism than the forceful measures of the state. Years ago, a friend was visiting from the region of al-Qaṭīf in Saudi Arabia. He is a highly successful businessman who has not been deceived by his riches; rather he has remained a pious Muslim and intimate friend of ʿulamāʾ. One night, along with a group of friends, we had just dined together and were returning to the Qaṭīfī friend’s car. It was rather late, and no cars or even other pedestrians were in sight. The light for the crosswalk was red, but without a second thought, we started crossing. It was very unlikely a police officer was anywhere near us, and even if one had been, it was almost unfathomable that he or she would fine us at that time of the night for doing something that posed no danger or disturbance. We were almost on the other side of the street when we saw the Qaṭīfī brother had not taken a step forward. When we asked what the matter was, he simply stated that according to Sayyid al-Sīstānī, it is ḥarām to break the laws of the land—any land, at any time. I find his action to be a reflection of the superior sense of civic duty—and adherence to the law—one acquires by way of piety, when compared with that of the sovereign state.

A Lack of Distinction between Morality and Law in the Qurʾan

In the Qurʾan, that which is enforced—law—and that which should be enforced—morality—are not separate. God provides a reminder for those who fear the consequences of their actions,^[23]Qurʾan, Ṭāhā (20):3. “But only as a reminder to him who fears…” and commands His Prophet (ṣ) to merely admonish.^[24]Qurʾan, al-Ghāshiyah (88):21-22. “Then remind them! Thou art only a reminder; thou art not charged to oversee them.” But the Qurʾan acknowledges that some will turn away from its message.^[25]Qurʾan, al-Jāthiyah (45):31. “But as for those who have disbelieved: ‘Were not My signs recited to you, and you waxed proud, and were a sinful people?” Furthermore, there is no form of worldly authority that can completely enforce the dictates of the Qurʾan, as it is impossible to impose proper belief, which is at the heart of every virtue in the Qurʾan.

So to divide the dictates of the Qurʾan into law and morality is a mistake, as God’s sovereignty extends to what is and is not enforced on Earth.

So to divide the dictates of the Qurʾan into law and morality is a mistake, as God’s sovereignty extends to what is and is not enforced on Earth.

In fact, even dividing the Qurʾan’s dictates into fiqh and akhlāq is only appropriate in that it facilitates more convenient scholarly discussion. How scholars approach a fiqhī issue—i.e., a legal issue that is outwardly observable with clear parameters, like prayer—is different from how they approach an akhlāq matter—i.e., behaviors or traits deeply rooted in habit that depend on the individual policing himself, like greed. But from the perspective of the Qurʾan, matters of akhlāq are not to be taken any less seriously than matters of fiqh. Consider, for example, the compromised status in the Afterlife of the greedy,^[26]See Qurʾan, an-Nisāʾ (4):37. “[S]uch as are niggardly, and bid other men to be niggardly, and themselves conceal the bounty that God has given them. We have prepared for the unbelievers a humbling chastisement…” And Qurʾan, at-Tawbah (9):69. “[T]hose before you, who were stronger than you in might, and more abundant in wealth and children; they took enjoyment in their share; so do you take enjoyment in your share, as those before you took enjoyment in their share. You have plunged as they plunged. Those–their works have failed in this world and in the world to come; those–they are the losers.” the lengthy admonition God provides for the man who frowned at a blind person,^[27]Qurʾan, ʿAbasa. the fact that evil thoughts are considered a sin,^[28]Qurʾan, al-Ḥujurāt (49):12. “O believers, eschew much suspicion; some suspicion is a sin. And do not spy, neither backbite one another; would any of you like to eat the flesh of his brother dead? You would abominate it. And fear you God; assuredly God turns, and He is All-compassionate.” or how walking humbly is mentioned in the context of other obligatory or forbidden acts.^[29]Qurʾan, al-Furqān (25):62 (“And it is He who made the night and day a succession for whom He desires to remember or He desires to be thankful.”); and Luqmān (31):19 (“Be modest in thy walk, and lower thy voice; the most hideous of voices is the donkey’s.'”).

Conclusion

Contrary to the evaluation of Orientalists, the Qurʾan is a source of legal authority. However, to understand its authority, one must remove oneself from the confines of contemporary discussions of law and morality. The authority of the Qurʾan depends on the individual’s belief and willingness to impose God’s commands and prohibitions upon herself. These commands extend to that which is observable and elaborated by scholars of fiqh, and that which is not as easily determined in the outside world, akhlāq.

Hasan Kashani studied in the seminaries of Iran, completing his suṭūḥ studies before attending the dars-i khārij lectures of Sayyid Shubayrī Zanjānī and other scholars. 

Most practicing Muslims have heard numerous ahādith and āyāt about the Qurʾan as a “manifest light,” “an exhortation,” “a cure,” “a mercy,” “a guide,” and something “that has no doubt.”^[1]The characteristics mentioned in this sentence have been mentioned numerous times in various āyāt of the Qurʾan and aḥādīth. For example, see: Qurʾan, an-Nisāʾ (4):174; Yūnus (10):57; and al-Baqarah (2):2. However, many contemporary Muslims disagree. Undeniably confused by the Qurʾan, it is difficult to come to terms with the reality of their own confusion and the fact that the Divine has noted the Qur’an as clear. Why is it not easy? In the age of information, understanding the Qurʾan has remained elusive and at arms-length despite almost every secular science available to us literally at our finger-tips. This confusion persists even with numerous attempts to study the Qurʾan. To this aim, we devour all exegetical literature within reach—including those available on YouTube—and furiously google the difficult verses of the Qurʾan (so much so that Google can predict them). This confusion frustrates post-modern millennial Muslims in particular, who seek instant answers to often complex intellectual problems.

In this piece, I attempt to respond to this problem by applying the analysis of Ayatullah Jawādī Āmulī in his topical tafsīr, The Qurʾan in the Light of the Qurʾan, primarily its fifth chapter, “Understanding the Qurʾan.”^[2]Ayatullah Jawādī Āmulī, On the Journey Towards Understanding the Qurʾan, trans. Rizwan Rashid (Canada: ISRA Publications Corp., 2018). This particular chapter has been translated into English by Shaykh Rizwan Rashid and recently published in the book, On the Journey Towards Understanding the Qur’ān. Although Ayatullah Jawādī Amulī does not address this problem directly in this book, the general solutions he provides so eloquently can have profound benefits when applied to our modern context. Before we address the problem directly, it is important to explore a few of Ayatullah Jawādī’s foundational discussions on the fiṭrah and on the nature of the language of the Qurʾan.

One of Ayatullah Jawādī’s main contentions is that the language of the Qurʾan is the language of the fiṭrah. The fiṭrah, from the root fa-ṭa-ra (he created, originated, molded), can perhaps best be translated as man’s divinely-originated constitution or innate disposition. He posits that although the Qurʾan is in Arabic, and was revealed in a certain context, it presents a message for all of humanity, and in turn, eternally relevant: “Being a part of another culture or civilization does not make the secrets of the Qurʾan inaccessible and does not prevent one from benefiting from its intricacies.”^[3]Āmulī, On the Journey Towards Understanding the Qurʾan, trans. Rizwan Rashid, 1. As such, he poignantly notes that the Qurʾanic message must supersede linguistic and cultural barriers, and that “being an Arab is not a requirement for accessing the truths of the Qurʾan nor is being a non-Arab a barrier in reaching the treasures of its teachings.” If an understanding of the Qurʾan were limited to Arabs and the historical context in which it was first revealed, then an understanding of the Qurʾan would be inaccessible to most, rendering its guidance exclusive to a particular group of people. Insofar as it is not limited in this way, the Qurʾan can be “the warner for all the worlds and the guide for all mankind” (emphasis added). Accordingly, “it is the human fiṭrah (man’s innate and divinely-originated disposition) which is in touch with the lingua franca of the Qurʾan…”^[4]Ibid. We are all innately capable of understanding the Qurʾan.

“It is the human fiṭrah (man’s innate and divinely-originated disposition) which is in touch with the lingua franca of the Qurʾan…” We are all innately capable of understanding the Qurʾan.

He continues,

When the language of the Qurʾan is the language of human nature, why then is the Qurʾan confusing to so many? Ayatullah Jawādī states two possible reasons for this doubt and confusion: The first is rooted in “the matter itself—i.e. the matter is deficient, weak, or false, thereby leading to the formation of doubt in a person.”^[6]Āmulī, On the Journey Towards Understanding the Qurʾan, trans. Rizwan Rashid, 11. The second possibility is located in the one who doubts, where “the doubter himself has a weakness or deficiency. In this latter case, the doubt stems from the doubter himself and not from what he is in doubt about.”^[7]Ibid. Take for example, a person with perfect vision attempting to drive a car with an extremely dirty windshield. Looking out of her windshield, she would find the roads in front of her unclear and difficult to see. This is not because the world outside of the car is blurry; rather, it is because she did not clean the windshield. If this person is confused and incapable of driving, it is not because of a deficiency in knowledge, rather it is due to her own ignorance and inability to drive with a dirty windshield.

So, we need to ask ourselves: Which of the two possibilities holds true when it comes to our confusion when reading the Qurʾan? Is it because the Qurʾan (astaghfirullāh) is flawed? Or is it because we are flawed? If the latter, then how are we flawed, and how do we fix our “selves”? What are we doing wrong that we have rendered ourselves incapable of understanding the Qurʾan? According to Ayatullah Jawādī, the Qurʾan presents the following solution:

Put simply, our fiṭrah becomes covered through sin and disobedience to the Lord. Our essential nature is to be connected to our Lord; when we disobey Him, we are essentially alienating ourselves from our true nature. As a result, we move further away from Him, veiling ourselves from His word. Ayatullah Jawādī elaborates on this point by noting that “it is not the Qurʾān that is veiled and draped, for it does not contain any ambiguities that would prevent others from understanding its verses; rather, it is the pursuers of this world and the unfaithful who are afflicted with the veil of self-conceit.”^[9]Āmulī, On the Journey Towards Understanding the Qurʾan, trans. Rizwan Rashid, 18. And this veil has consequences when it comes to our ability to understand the Qurʾan:

The conclusion is simple, yet counter-intuitive: To understand the Qurʾan with depth requires a level of spiritual struggle, and a particular proximity to God. In the words of the Qurʾan, it requires a level of taqwā, or God-consciousness.

The conclusion is simple, yet counter-intuitive: To understand the Qurʾan with depth requires a level of spiritual struggle, and a particular proximity to God. In the words of the Qurʾan, it requires a level of taqwā, or God-consciousness.

We must realize that the Qurʾan is unlike any other book of science, math, or even philosophy; reading it is a spiritual endeavor in which we are attempting to connect with our Lord. It is a divine, sacred book. And as with anything sacred, the rules of engagement and understanding differ from the rules of engagement and understanding in a secular or profane science. For success in the secular sciences, proximity to God is seemingly irrelevant. God-intentions,^[13]“God-intentions” means with the intention of seeking proximity to God and for His sake, that is, the niyyah. sincerity, and spiritual heights are not prerequisites to rationality or success in academia.

An example to illustrate this misunderstanding: there are some modern Muslims who hold that a non-practicing Muslim or even a non-Muslim academic, who does not strive for piety, can elaborate on and understand the Qurʾan. This is simply not true. Such a person may be able to provide some information on the Qurʾan, like some of its scholastic dimensions—for example, its linguistic or historical elements. However, they have closed themselves off from the Qurʾan’s more profound and essential dimension, which can distort their understanding of the former. Allah Himself has stated:

The fact is that sacred knowledge, such as the knowledge of the Qurʾan, does not work the same way as information. If we want to learn about the biology of the human body, we can simply read a book or watch a documentary. But the same does not hold true for spiritual and sacred knowledge—we cannot YouTube our way into becoming a lover of God, or to becoming a muttaqī. In this way, sacred knowledge, which is what we are after, does not work like information. Any person can google and learn bits and pieces of information about the Qurʾan. However, the sacred knowledge that we are after—the absolute true understanding of the Qurʾan that seeps into our souls and serves as a Criterion—is only accessible to those who can reconnect with their unadulterated fiṭrah, those who have spiritually purified themselves.

The post-modern Muslim has been looking in the wrong places to understand the Qurʾan. He has treated the Qurʾan as nothing more than an academic endeavor, robbing it of its true essence. To make sense of the verses that confuse us, we have turned to factoids and information instead of sacred knowledge. We have tried to read it with veils over our eyes, never attempting to regain sight or to lift the veils from our souls.

We have yet to realize that the key to truly understanding and accessing the Qurʾan is in changing the state of our souls, by embarking on a journey of self-purification. This may seem overwhelming, and we all start at different stages and in particular circumstances. And for some, it may be more difficult than for others. However, it is empowering when we realize that even if we have strayed far from the path, Allah will guarantee our guidance if we exert real effort in His way:

And so, the more important question—which if answered, will lead us to Paradise and to a deeper understanding of the Qurʾan—is: how do I struggle in the way of God? How do I attain taqwā? How do I purify my fiṭrah and return my soul to its original state, inclined towards my Lord, and benefiting ever more from the Qurʾan?

This is where the true journey begins.

Fatemah Meghji is based in her hometown, Vancouver, BC, on unceded First Nations Territories. She received her BA in English Literature and Religious Studies from the University of British Columbia in 2010. After graduating from UBC, she studied at Jamiah al-Zahra in Qum, Iran from 2011 to 2016, and completed her MA in Qur’anic Exegesis & Qur’anic Sciences in 2017. Her research interests include the Qur’an, its exegesis, ethics, and contemporary social issues, especially the struggles of women in modernity. Fatemah has authored a few articles and currently works on curriculum development with Kisa Kids and teaches at the Az-Zahraa Islamic Academy.