“True intellectual maturity and societal progress require more than just gathering facts; they demand a complete understanding of reality that integrates both the measurable, rational world and the deeper, moral meanings of existence.”

The Islamic Intellectual Tradition|A Model Of Integration: The Islamic intellectual tradition presents a historically significant example of how philosophy and religion can interact productively rather than competitively. In this tradition, reason (‘aql) and revelation (wahy) are not seen as mutually exclusive sources of knowledge. Instead, they are understood as complementary pathways toward truth. The Qur’an itself repeatedly encourages reflection, reasoning, and observation of the natural world. It does not discourage intellectual inquiry; rather, it frames it as a moral and spiritual duty. Verses such as “Do they not reflect?” and “Do they not use reason?” show that intellectual activity is deeply embedded within the religious worldview. Within this framework, Muslim philosophers developed sophisticated intellectual systems that integrated Greek philosophical traditions with Islamic theology. Al-Farabi envisioned an ideal political and ethical order in which philosophy and religion cooperate to guide society toward virtue. His concept of the “Virtuous City” reflects a deeply integrated worldview where metaphysics, ethics, and politics are interconnected. Ibn Sina (Avicenna) developed a comprehensive philosophical system combining Aristotelian logic with Islamic metaphysical concepts. He sought harmony between rational necessity and divine reality, demonstrating that philosophical reasoning could coexist with theological belief. Ibn Rushd (Averroes) argued that there is no contradiction between philosophy and revelation when both are properly understood. He maintained that truth is one, and any apparent conflict arises from misunderstanding either scripture or philosophy. Al-Ghazali, although critical of certain philosophical claims, did not reject philosophy entirely. Instead, he refined its boundaries, distinguishing between areas where reason is effective and areas where revelation provides certainty. This intellectual engagement created a rich and dynamic civilization in which philosophy, theology, medicine, mathematics, astronomy, and ethics developed together. Knowledge was not fragmented but unified under a shared metaphysical and ethical vision.
Philosophy, Science| The Evolution Of Knowledge : Russell’s observation that philosophy gives birth to science is historically accurate. Many scientific disciplines originated within philosophical inquiry. Astronomy, physics, biology, and psychology all emerged from philosophical reflection before developing into empirical sciences. However, this evolution does not mean that philosophy becomes irrelevant once science emerges. Instead, philosophy continues to address questions that science cannot fully answer, such as: What is the nature of consciousness? What is the foundation of moral values? Why is there something rather than nothing? What is the ultimate meaning of existence? Science provides mechanisms and descriptions, but philosophy continues to explore interpretation and meaning. Without philosophical reflection, science becomes purely technical; without scientific input, philosophy risks abstraction detached from reality.
The Problem Of Modern Fragmentation: Modern intellectual life is characterized by extreme specialization. Each discipline has developed its own language, methods, and criteria of truth. While this has increased efficiency and precision, it has also created fragmentation. A physicist, a sociologist, a biologist, and a philosopher may all study human existence, yet their frameworks often do not communicate with one another. As a result, knowledge becomes compartmentalized. Religion, when excluded from this system, is often reduced to a private or emotional experience rather than a source of intellectual coherence. Philosophy, when isolated, becomes abstract and disconnected. Science, when dominant, becomes powerful but sometimes ethically neutral. This fragmentation is one of the defining intellectual challenges of the modern world.
Intellectual Plurality , Global Contributions: It is also essential to recognize that no single civilization holds exclusive ownership over philosophy or science. Human intellectual history is fundamentally pluralistic. Greek rational inquiry, Indian metaphysical systems, Chinese philosophical traditions, Islamic synthesis of reason and revelation, and Western scientific development have all contributed to the global accumulation of knowledge. Each tradition has influenced the others through translation, dialogue, and critique. The history of knowledge is therefore not a story of one civilization replacing another, but of continuous interaction and shared development.
Conclusion|Towards an Integrated Vision Of Knowledge: The central lesson emerging from this discussion is the necessity of intellectual integration. Philosophy without religion risks becoming intellectually free but morally unanchored. Religion without philosophy risks becoming static and intellectually limited. Science without philosophy risks becoming technically powerful but conceptually incomplete. A balanced intellectual tradition is one in which reason and revelation, analysis and meaning, inquiry and guidance work together. This is not a theoretical ideal alone; it has been historically realized in different forms, most notably in the Islamic intellectual tradition, where philosophy and religion were not enemies but partners in the pursuit of truth. Bertrand Russell’s insights remind us that philosophy is essential because it occupies the frontier of knowledge, asking questions that science has not yet answered. But human life is not sustained by questions alone; it requires meaning, coherence, and ethical direction. Ultimately, the goal of knowledge is not merely accumulation of information but the formation of a complete understanding of reality—one that includes both the seen and the unseen, the measurable and the meaningful, the rational and the moral. Only through such integration can human civilization move toward true intellectual maturity and balanced progress.

(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
hamidnaseem@gmail.com

“The Academy of Islamic Studies at Universiti Malaya (UM) expands the university’s impact through ethical scholarship and global collaborations, notably with institutions in Qatar. Ultimately, UM serves as a dynamic intellectual ecosystem that drives future-oriented knowledge and cross-cultural understanding. Its success highlights that modern global influence is built on ideas, knowledge, and human imagination rather than physical territory.”

Strategic Int’l Collaboration| Engagement With Qatar : One of the most significant recent developments in UM’s internationalisation strategy is its expanding collaboration with institutions in Qatar. This initiative reflects a broader effort to strengthen academic, cultural, and institutional ties across the Muslim world, particularly in areas such as Islamic finance, education, and community development.
Discussions between representatives of UM’s Academy of Islamic Studies and the Qatari Ambassador to Malaysia have opened pathways for cooperation with key institutions, including Qatar University, the Ministry of Endowments (Awqaf), and the Central Bank of Qatar. These engagements are structured around long-term institutional goals rather than short-term exchanges. Key areas of collaboration include curriculum development, joint academic programmes, and shared expertise in Islamic finance, governance, and ethics. By aligning curricula and developing joint degrees or modules, both institutions aim to enhance academic coherence and global relevance.
Research collaboration forms another major pillar of this partnership. Joint studies focusing on Islamic economic thought, financial ethics, and the role of religion in public life are envisioned as part of a broader effort to address contemporary global challenges through an Islamic intellectual framework. These initiatives reflect an understanding that modern problems require interdisciplinary and cross-cultural academic responses.
Academic and cultural exchange programmes further strengthen this partnership. Faculty and student exchanges are expected to foster intercultural understanding, broaden academic perspectives, and build long-term scholarly networks. In addition, planned institutional visits aim to formalise cooperation through memoranda of understanding and sustained academic engagement. Such collaborations highlight the evolving role of universities as transnational knowledge bridges, contributing not only to education but also to diplomatic and socio-economic development.
Integrating Academic Reputation, Societal Impact : Universiti Malaya’s global ranking achievements are not merely symbolic; they have tangible implications for academic development and societal impact. High international rankings enhance institutional visibility, attract global research partnerships, and expand opportunities for funding, mobility, and collaboration.
For students and scholars within the Academy of Islamic Studies, this global recognition translates into access to broader academic networks and platforms for international publication. It also enhances employability and professional mobility across global academic and policy institutions.
Importantly, UM’s academic philosophy extends beyond rankings. The university places strong emphasis on the social relevance of knowledge. Islamic studies at UM, for example, is not confined to textual analysis but actively engages with contemporary issues such as financial ethics, interfaith relations, social justice, and digital transformation. This reflects a commitment to producing scholarship that is both academically rigorous and socially meaningful. The University’s broader strategy also prioritises international research networks, with strong performance in global collaboration indicators. This reinforces its identity as a globally connected institution that contributes actively to international scholarly discourse.
Conclusion|A Global Knowledge Institution In Transformation:
Universiti Malaya’s rise in global rankings and its expanding international collaborations represent the outcome of sustained institutional commitment to excellence in teaching, research, and global engagement. Its trajectory reflects a broader transformation in higher education, where universities are increasingly expected to function as engines of innovation, ethical leadership, and global cooperation.
As Malaysia’s premier public university, UM occupies a strategic position not only in national development but also in global academic discourse. Its ambition to enter the world’s top 50 universities reflects both aspiration and achievement, grounded in measurable progress and institutional strength.
Within this broader framework, the Academy of Islamic Studies plays a crucial role in extending UM’s intellectual reach into domains of ethical scholarship, religious thought, and interdisciplinary inquiry. Its collaborations—particularly with institutions in Qatar—demonstrate how academic partnerships can transcend geographical boundaries to address shared global challenges.
Ultimately, Universiti Malaya stands as more than a university; it is a dynamic intellectual ecosystem shaping future-oriented knowledge, fostering cross-cultural understanding, and contributing meaningfully to the advancement of global higher education. Its journey reflects the enduring truth that in the modern world, the most powerful empires are indeed those built not on territory or resources, but on ideas, knowledge, and the human capacity to imagine a better future.
(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

hamidnaseem@gmail.com

Introduction: The question of livelihood for religious scholars has become one of the most pressing concerns facing Muslim societies today. In many parts of the world, graduates of Islamic seminaries devote their lives to teaching, preaching, leading prayers, issuing guidance, and preserving the religious identity of the community. Yet they frequently find themselves confronting economic hardship, social comparison, and professional dissatisfaction. The issue is often discussed primarily in terms of salaries, institutional funding, and financial support. While these concerns are undoubtedly important, an equally significant question deserves attention: should religious service be measured principally through monetary value?

The modern world evaluates almost every profession through the lens of economic productivity and market value. The worth of a person is frequently determined by income, material possessions, and social status. Such a worldview inevitably affects religious institutions and their servants. Consequently, some people begin to compare the salary of an imam with that of a corporate executive, a teacher of Qur’an with a software engineer, or a madrasah instructor with a government officer. While such comparisons may appear natural in a market-driven society, they often overlook the unique nature of religious service and the spiritual objectives that distinguish it from ordinary occupations.

The preservation of religion has never been merely an economic enterprise. Throughout Islamic history, the greatest scholars and reformers considered their work a sacred trust before Allah rather than a commercial undertaking. This does not mean that scholars should live in poverty or that communities are absolved of their responsibility to support them. Rather, it means that the value of religious service transcends monetary compensation and cannot be reduced to financial calculations alone.

The Sacred Nature Of Religious Service: Islam views religious knowledge as one of the highest forms of worship. The Qur’an repeatedly elevates the status of those who possess knowledge and dedicate themselves to guiding humanity. The mission of the Prophets was not commercial; it was a divine responsibility. The Qur’an records numerous prophetic declarations in which the Prophets said to their communities: “I ask of you no reward for it; my reward is only from the Lord of the worlds.”

This recurring Qur’anic theme establishes an important principle: the essence of religious service is sincerity (ikhlas), not financial gain. The primary motivation for conveying divine guidance must be seeking the pleasure of Allah.

The scholars are described in Islamic tradition as the heirs of the Prophets. If prophetic missions were fundamentally acts of selfless service, then scholarly service must retain something of the same spirit. The mosque, madrasah, and educational institution should not be viewed merely as places of employment but as centres of spiritual and intellectual stewardship.

Unfortunately, contemporary materialism often obscures this reality. When religious service is viewed solely through the prism of income, disappointment becomes inevitable. The market rewards activities according to supply, demand, and profitability, whereas the value of religious work lies in its contribution to faith, morality, and the eternal welfare of humanity. The two systems operate according to entirely different standards.

The Problem Of Market-Based Evaluation: Modern societies tend to assign prestige according to economic success. A person earning a high salary is often considered more successful than someone engaged in teaching, scholarship, or community service. This mentality has influenced Muslim communities as well. Young graduates sometimes compare their financial condition with that of their peers who entered medicine, engineering, information technology, or business. Such comparisons can generate frustration and lead some to feel that choosing religious education was a mistake. This sentiment arises because society increasingly equates success with wealth rather than contribution, service, or moral leadership.

Yet if financial reward becomes the sole criterion of value, many of the most important human activities would appear insignificant. A mother nurturing her children, a volunteer serving the needy, or a scholar preserving religious knowledge may produce little measurable economic output, yet their contribution to society is immeasurable. Religious service belongs to this category of higher human endeavors. Its fruits are often invisible and long-term. A teacher who inspires faith in a child may influence generations. An imam who resolves family disputes may save an entire household from disintegration. A scholar who preserves authentic religious understanding may protect a community from confusion and extremism. These contributions cannot be quantified by salary scales.

Historical Models Of Scholarly Independence: Islamic history offers numerous examples of scholars who combined religious service with economic independence. Abu Hanifah was a successful merchant. Many jurists, hadith scholars, and theologians engaged in trade, agriculture, craftsmanship, or other professions. Their economic independence often strengthened their intellectual independence. The purpose of these activities was not the pursuit of wealth for its own sake. Rather, they enabled scholars to serve religion without becoming excessively dependent upon rulers, institutions, or donors. Economic self-sufficiency protected their dignity and allowed them to speak the truth fearlessly. This historical model provides an important lesson. Separating religious service from monetary value does not mean neglecting livelihood. Instead, it means refusing to allow financial considerations to define the worth of religious work. A scholar may earn through lawful means while understanding that his or her religious contribution possesses a value far beyond material compensation.

 “The Muslim intellectual tradition views religious service as a sacred trust (Amanah) rather than a career, seeking reward from Allah rather than material status. While contemporary societies should generously support scholars, the true value of their work—preserving faith, transmitting knowledge, and providing moral guidance—cannot be measured financially. Reclaiming this vision restores sacred dignity to religious service, ensuring scholars serve for the higher purpose of seeking Allah’s pleasure and human betterment.”

The Danger Of Commercializing Religion : One of the greatest risks facing contemporary religious institutions is the commercialization of religion. When religious activities become excessively linked to financial incentives, several harmful consequences may emerge. First, sincerity may be weakened. Actions originally performed for Allah’s pleasure can gradually become motivated by income, recognition, or institutional advancement. Second, public trust may decline. Communities become suspicious when religious leadership appears excessively concerned with financial matters. The moral authority of scholars depends significantly upon the perception that they are guided by principles rather than personal gain. Third, competition may replace cooperation. Instead of viewing religious work as a collective mission, individuals may begin competing for positions, influence, and resources.

Fourth, the educational mission itself may suffer. Institutions may prioritize expansion, publicity, or fundraising over the intellectual and spiritual development of students. None of these dangers imply that scholars should not receive compensation. Islamic law clearly permits payment for teaching, leading prayers, and other religious services. The issue is not compensation itself but allowing financial considerations to become the primary measure of success.

Community Responsibility Toward Religious Servants: While emphasizing the spiritual nature of religious service, it is equally important to reject the notion that scholars should be left to struggle economically. The community bears a significant responsibility toward those who dedicate their lives to preserving and transmitting religious knowledge. A society that benefits from the efforts of scholars, imams, teachers, and preachers must ensure that their basic needs are met with dignity. The Prophet ﷺ emphasized the rights of workers and encouraged fair treatment of those who serve others. Neglecting the material welfare of religious servants can create unnecessary hardships and discourage talented individuals from entering the field. Therefore, separating religious service from monetary value does not mean underpaying scholars or ignoring their needs. Rather, it means recognizing that financial support is a means of enabling service, not a measure of its worth. Communities should provide adequate compensation out of gratitude and responsibility, while scholars should maintain awareness that their ultimate reward lies with Allah.

Reviving The Concept Of Barakah : An important dimension often neglected in contemporary discussions is the Islamic concept of barakah (divine blessing). Modern economic thinking focuses primarily on numerical income, whereas Islamic thought considers both quantity and blessing. Many religious scholars throughout history lived modestly yet enjoyed remarkable contentment, influence, and productivity. Their lives demonstrate that prosperity cannot be reduced to financial figures alone. A smaller income accompanied by barakah may bring greater satisfaction and benefit than a larger income devoid of spiritual blessing. This perspective does not eliminate material concerns, but it places them within a broader framework. The objective is not poverty but balance. Material means are necessary, yet they should remain servants of higher spiritual goals rather than becoming ends in themselves.

Integrating Skills, Livelihood: One practical solution is encouraging religious students to acquire complementary skills. Technology, translation, publishing, research, teaching, counseling, entrepreneurship, and other fields can provide additional income while remaining compatible with religious service. Such an approach offers several advantages. It reduces financial pressure, enhances self-reliance, and allows scholars to contribute more effectively to society. Most importantly, it preserves the distinction between earning a livelihood and serving religion. One activity generates income; the other fulfills a sacred mission. This balanced model reflects the practice of many early Muslim scholars. It enables religious workers to maintain both dignity and independence while continuing their educational and spiritual responsibilities.

Reframing Success: Perhaps the most important reform required today is a redefinition of success. Muslim societies must challenge the assumption that income alone determines worth. A successful scholar is not necessarily the one with the highest salary. Rather, success may be measured by integrity, knowledge, influence, service, and proximity to Allah. Similarly, a successful institution is not merely the one with the largest buildings or the greatest financial resources but the one that produces sincere, knowledgeable, and morally upright individuals. The Qur’anic worldview consistently directs attention toward eternal rather than temporary standards. Wealth has value, but it is not the ultimate criterion of excellence. Human beings are judged by faith, righteousness, sincerity, and beneficial action. When communities internalize this perspective, the social status of religious service naturally rises. Scholars cease to be evaluated primarily by their economic position and are appreciated for their intellectual and spiritual contributions.

Conclusion: The challenge of livelihood among religious scholars is real and deserves serious attention. Institutions must improve financial support, communities must fulfill their responsibilities, and scholars should pursue lawful means of economic stability. Yet the deeper issue concerns how religious service is understood and valued. Religious service should never be reduced to a commercial transaction. Its essence lies in devotion, sincerity, guidance, and the preservation of faith. While compensation is necessary, it cannot define the true worth of teaching the Qur’an, preserving prophetic traditions, nurturing moral character, and guiding communities toward Allah. The Muslim intellectual tradition reminds us that the greatest servants of religion often viewed their work not as a career but as a trust. Their reward was not confined to salaries, recognition, or worldly status; it was sought from Allah, whose recompense surpasses all earthly calculations. In an age dominated by material measurements, Muslim societies must reclaim this vision. Scholars should be supported generously, but the value of their service should never be measured merely by money. The preservation of faith, the transmission of knowledge, and the moral guidance of humanity are treasures whose worth exceeds every financial scale. When religious service is understood in this light, it regains its sacred dignity, and society benefits from scholars who serve not for wealth alone but for the higher purpose of seeking the pleasure of Allah and the betterment of humanity.

(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

One of the recurring debates in contemporary Muslim intellectual discourse concerns the status of religious and worldly knowledge. Questions are often raised regarding whether Islamic sciences are superior to modern disciplines, whether medicine, engineering, economics, and technology fall within the sphere of Islamic learning, and whether all forms of knowledge enjoy the same status in Islam. The confusion is further compounded by the widespread use of the term “knowledge” for every form of learning without recognizing the distinctions carefully developed by classical Muslim scholars. As a result, some people reduce all knowledge to one category and argue that there is no difference between the study of Qur’an and Hadith and the study of medicine or engineering. Others move to the opposite extreme and assume that worldly sciences possess little or no religious value.

Both approaches fail to represent the balanced position of Islam. Islam is a religion that places extraordinary emphasis on knowledge. The first revelation began with the command “Read,” and the Qur’an repeatedly praises those who possess knowledge. The Prophet Muhammad (SAW)  described scholars as the heirs of the Prophets and declared the pursuit of knowledge to be an obligation upon every Muslim. However, the fundamental question remains: what kind of knowledge is being praised in these texts? Is every discipline equal in rank and purpose, or does Islam establish a hierarchy among different forms of learning? To answer this question, it is necessary to understand the distinction between the concepts of ʿilm and fann.

In contemporary usage, both are often translated simply as “knowledge,” but classical Muslim scholarship differentiated between them.  The term ʿilm in its highest and most original sense referred to knowledge that guides human beings to Allah, enables them to understand revelation, and teaches them how to fulfill their obligations toward their Creator. This includes the sciences of the Qur’an, Hadith, Fiqh, Aqidah, Usul al-Fiqh, Arabic language as the vehicle of revelation, and the various branches of Islamic scholarship that derive from divine guidance. These sciences are often called ʿUlum al-Nubuwwah (the Sciences of Prophethood) because their ultimate source is revelation transmitted through the Prophets. When the Qur’an says, “Only those among His servants who possess knowledge truly fear Allah” (35:28), the knowledge being referred to is not merely technical expertise or information. Rather, it is knowledge that produces reverence for Allah, strengthens faith, and transforms human conduct. Similarly, when the Prophet ﷺ spoke of the virtues of knowledge and scholars, the primary reference was to the knowledge that leads people toward guidance and salvation. This explains why classical Muslim scholars often regarded religious knowledge as the noblest of all sciences, for it concerns humanity’s relationship with its Creator and its eternal destiny.

Alongside ʿilm, Muslim scholars employed another term: fann (plural: funun), meaning art, discipline, skill, craft, or technical specialization. Disciplines such as medicine, engineering, architecture, agriculture, commerce, mathematics, astronomy, economics, information technology, and military sciences generally fall within this category. These disciplines are essential for the functioning of human society and have been highly valued throughout Islamic civilization. However, they differ from revealed knowledge in their source, objective, and function. They are primarily acquired through human observation, experimentation, and intellectual effort rather than through revelation. Their principal aim is to organize and improve worldly life rather than to provide direct guidance concerning faith, worship, morality, and salvation. This distinction does not imply hostility between religion and worldly sciences. Nor does it suggest that worldly disciplines are unimportant. Rather, it establishes conceptual clarity. Religious knowledge addresses ultimate questions: Who created us? Why are we here? What is right and wrong? What happens after death? How can we attain salvation? Worldly sciences address practical questions: How can diseases be treated?

How can buildings be constructed safely? How can economies function efficiently? How can communication and transportation be improved? Both are valuable, but they serve different purposes. Islam therefore establishes a hierarchy of knowledge rather than a conflict between forms of knowledge. At the summit stands the knowledge of Allah, revelation, faith, worship, and moral guidance because it determines the purpose of human existence and the path to eternal success. Below it stand the various sciences and skills that facilitate human welfare in this world. The distinction is not between valuable and worthless knowledge but between ends and means.

Religious knowledge provides purpose, direction, and moral guidance, while worldly sciences provide the tools necessary to implement those purposes within society. A proper understanding of this hierarchy requires examining the concepts of Farḍ al-ʿAyn and Farḍ al-Kifāyah. In Islamic jurisprudence, obligations are divided into those that every individual must personally fulfill and those that must be fulfilled collectively by the Muslim community. Farḍ al-ʿAyn refers to obligations binding upon every Muslim. In the sphere of knowledge, this includes everything necessary for a person to fulfill his or her religious duties correctly. Every Muslim must know the basic tenets of faith, the rules of purification, prayer, fasting, zakah, and the principles governing lawful and unlawful conduct. A merchant must know the rules of commerce, a husband and wife must know the laws governing marriage, and every believer must possess sufficient knowledge to worship Allah correctly. This is the knowledge intended by the famous prophetic statement, “Seeking knowledge is obligatory upon every Muslim.” The scholars unanimously agreed that the hadith does not require every Muslim to become a jurist, theologian, or hadith specialist. Rather, it obligates each person to learn whatever is necessary for fulfilling his or her religious responsibilities.

 “Islam views religious and worldly knowledge as complementary rather than conflicting. While religious knowledge holds a higher rank by providing moral direction and eternal purpose, worldly sciences are practically indispensable for fulfilling human responsibilities on Earth. The ultimate Islamic ideal is a balanced civilization where divine guidance illuminates human expertise, and all beneficial knowledge serves to worship Allah and benefit humanity.”

Beyond this individual obligation lies the sphere of Farḍ al-Kifāyah, the collective obligations of the Muslim community. Certain sciences and professions are required for the welfare and survival of society. If a sufficient number of people undertake them, the obligation is lifted from the rest. However, if no one fulfills them, the entire community bears responsibility. Advanced Islamic sciences such as Tafsir, Hadith, Fiqh, Fatwa, judiciary, and scholarly research belong to this category. Every Muslim is not required to become a mufti or a scholar, but the community must produce scholars capable of preserving and interpreting the religion.

Interestingly, many worldly sciences also fall under Farḍ al-Kifāyah. Medicine is a collective obligation because communities require physicians. Engineering is a collective obligation because societies require infrastructure and technology. Agriculture is a collective obligation because people require food. Military sciences, economics, administration, education, and numerous other disciplines are similarly necessary for communal well-being. If a Muslim society neglects these fields entirely, it becomes blameworthy before Allah because it has failed to fulfill its collective responsibilities.

This point is crucial because it corrects a widespread misunderstanding. Some people assume that because medicine, engineering, and similar fields are Farḍ al-Kifāyah, they must therefore possess exactly the same rank as religious sciences. Others assume that because religious sciences are superior in rank, worldly sciences possess little value. Both conclusions are mistaken. The correct position is that religious sciences and worldly sciences may both be obligatory, but their obligations arise from different considerations. Religious sciences preserve faith, while worldly sciences preserve worldly welfare. The objectives of Shari’ah include the preservation of religion, life, intellect, lineage, and property. Different sciences contribute to the realization of these objectives in different ways. The reason religious knowledge retains a unique status is that it originates from revelation and addresses humanity’s ultimate concerns. Medicine may preserve physical life, but it cannot explain the purpose of life. Engineering may build cities, but it cannot determine the moral principles by which those cities should be governed.

Economics may increase prosperity, but it cannot define justice independent of ethical guidance. Worldly sciences excel in explaining how things function, but revelation explains why human beings exist and how they ought to live. This is why classical Muslim scholars consistently regarded the sciences of revelation as superior in rank while simultaneously recognizing the necessity of worldly disciplines. Islamic civilization itself provides the best evidence of this balanced approach. Historically, Muslims did not separate religion from worldly knowledge. Many great physicians, mathematicians, astronomers, and scientists were deeply grounded in Islamic learning. Likewise, many jurists and scholars were engaged in commerce, agriculture, administration, and public affairs. The Islamic worldview did not divide existence into isolated sacred and secular realms. Rather, all beneficial activities were understood within the broader framework of worship and service to Allah.

A physician healing the sick could earn divine reward. An engineer constructing beneficial infrastructure could earn divine reward. A teacher educating children could earn divine reward. However, these activities derived their ethical direction and ultimate purpose from religious guidance.

The ideal Islamic model is therefore not competition between religious and worldly knowledge but integration between them. Religious scholars require scientifically literate societies capable of meeting human needs, while scientists and professionals require ethical and spiritual guidance to ensure that their expertise serves beneficial ends. The scholar provides vision and moral direction, while the professional provides implementation and practical solutions. One explains what ought to be done; the other often explains how it can be done. Civilization flourishes when both work together in harmony.

The confusion surrounding religious and worldly knowledge can thus be resolved through a few fundamental principles.

Not all knowledge is identical in purpose or rank. Islam distinguishes between revealed knowledge (ʿilm) and acquired technical disciplines (funun). Religious knowledge possesses a unique and superior status because it originates from revelation and guides humanity toward Allah and eternal salvation. At the same time, worldly sciences are not insignificant; many are indispensable and constitute Farḍ al-Kifāyah. Every Muslim must acquire sufficient religious knowledge to fulfill personal obligations, while the Muslim community must collectively produce scholars, physicians, engineers, scientists, economists, educators, and administrators. The ideal Muslim society does not choose between religious and worldly knowledge but combines both within a framework guided by revelation.

The final verdict of Islam is therefore not the glorification of worldly sciences at the expense of religious knowledge nor the neglect of worldly sciences in the name of religion. Religious knowledge remains superior in rank because it concerns humanity’s relationship with Allah and its eternal destiny. Worldly sciences remain indispensable in function because they enable human beings to fulfill their responsibilities on earth. One provides purpose, meaning, and moral direction; the other provides tools, methods, and practical solutions. The highest Islamic ideal is not the scholar who knows nothing of the world, nor the professional who knows nothing of religion. Rather, it is a civilization in which revealed guidance illuminates human expertise, where scholars and specialists work together, and where all beneficial knowledge ultimately serves the worship of Allah, the welfare of humanity, and the realization of the divine purpose for which mankind was created.

(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

hamidnaseem@gmail.com

On this occasion, our conversation lasted for almost an hour. Having read some of my recent social media posts on Zakat, he raised a seemingly simple but profoundly significant question: “How do you define poverty?” The question itself was important, but what followed was even more intriguing. He referred to the famous English translator of the Qur’an, Marmaduke Pickthall, who translated Zakat as “the poor due.” My friend observed that this translation captures an essential dimension of the Islamic understanding of wealth. Zakat is not merely charity, generosity, or voluntary benevolence. It is the right of the poor embedded within the wealth of the rich. Consequently, withholding Zakat is not merely neglecting a religious obligation; it is, in a moral sense, depriving the poor of a right that God has already assigned to them.

His observation immediately brought to mind several Qur’anic passages that challenge the notion of absolute ownership. The Qur’an repeatedly reminds believers that wealth is ultimately a trust from God and that others have legitimate claims upon it. Describing the righteous, the Qur’an states:

“And in their wealth there was a recognized right for the beggar and the deprived” (Qur’an 51:19). Similarly, another verse declares: “And in their wealth there was a known right for the one who asks and the one who is deprived” (Qur’an 70:24–25). These verses establish a radically different conception of property from that which dominates much of the modern world. Wealth in Islam is not an unrestricted personal possession. It is an amanah—a trust—and with trust comes responsibility.

The affluent are not merely encouraged to assist the poor; they are required to recognize their rights. This perspective becomes particularly relevant in an age characterized by unprecedented economic inequality. While technological advancement and globalization have generated immense wealth, they have also widened the gap between rich and poor. Entire societies are structured around the accumulation of capital, often with little regard for social justice or moral responsibility. Within such a context, Zakat stands as one of Islam’s most revolutionary institutions. It reminds humanity that wealth is not an end in itself but a means of fulfilling higher ethical and spiritual purposes.

As our conversation continued, my friend made another observation that lingered in my mind long after we had ended the call. He remarked that for many people today, banks have effectively become their religion, and insurance their form of worship. He did not mean this literally, of course. Rather, he was pointing to a profound psychological reality.  Modern individuals often place greater trust in financial institutions than in God. Their sense of security depends less upon divine providence and more upon savings accounts, investment portfolios, insurance policies, and market forecasts. The statement may appear exaggerated at first glance, yet it contains a disturbing truth. The modern economic order has subtly reshaped human consciousness. Financial security has become the supreme objective of life.

Success is increasingly measured not by character, wisdom, piety, or service to humanity but by income, assets, purchasing power, and social status. The question is not whether wealth is useful.  Islam never condemns wealth itself. Indeed, many of the Prophet’s Companions were successful merchants and landowners. Wealth becomes problematic only when it ceases to be a means and becomes an end; when it occupies a place in the heart that belongs to God alone. During our discussion, I was reminded of the Prophetic traditions concerning the trials associated with the coming of the Dajjal. Among the characteristics attributed to this great deception is the manipulation of material resources and economic power. While it would be simplistic and irresponsible to identify any contemporary institution directly with the Dajjal, the traditions do alert us to the possibility that economic dependence can become a powerful instrument of spiritual corruption. Never before in human history have financial systems exercised such influence over people’s hopes, fears, decisions, and relationships. Individuals often evaluate themselves and others according to economic criteria.

Nations are judged by their GDP.

Educational institutions emphasize employability above wisdom. Even moral choices are frequently reduced to financial calculations. Against this backdrop, I found myself reflecting on a fundamental question: What constitutes genuine Tawhid in our age? When the Qur’an speaks of Tawhid, it does not present it merely as an abstract theological doctrine. Tawhid is not simply the belief that there is one God. Rather, it is a comprehensive orientation of the heart. It requires that our fears, hopes, loves, loyalties, and dependencies ultimately converge upon Allah. This is why the Qur’an repeatedly links faith with Rizq and Tawakkul. God declares: “There is no creature on earth but that its provision rests upon Allah” (Qur’an 11:6). Elsewhere, He promises: “And whoever fears Allah, He will make for him a way out and provide for him from where he does not expect” (Qur’an 65:2–3).These verses do not call upon believers to abandon effort or reject worldly means. Rather, they seek to liberate the heart from servitude to those means. Islam does not teach passivity. It teaches freedom from dependence upon anything other than God.

 “True faith in Al-Razzaq (the Provider) is proven not by mere claim, but through practical action in an era obsessed with material certainty. By maintaining a detached relationship with wealth (Rizq), recognizing it as a divine trust through Zakat (charity), and placing absolute reliance (Tawakkul) in God rather than financial institutions, a believer demonstrates a living faith. This alignment of wealth and trust serves as the modern litmus test and practical examination of Tawhid (monotheism), separating nominal belief from true conviction.”

The Prophet Muhammad (SAW)  offers the perfect example of this balance. During the migration from Makkah to Madinah, he undertook meticulous planning. He arranged guides, selected routes carefully, prepared supplies, and implemented security measures. Yet despite employing every available means, his trust remained firmly anchored in Allah. This is the essence of Tawakkul: utilizing means without becoming enslaved by them. Therefore, the central question is not whether one uses a bank account, purchases insurance, invests money, or plans for the future. The real question is where one’s ultimate trust resides. Does one regard these things merely as instruments, or does one unconsciously treat them as saviors?

Here lies the profound significance of my friend’s reflections. If we wish to identify the practical test of Tawhid in today’s materialistic world, perhaps we need look no further than a person’s attitude toward Rizq. How does one react when income decreases? How does one respond to financial uncertainty? Does economic hardship destroy one’s inner peace? Does fear of poverty overwhelm faith in God? Or does one continue to trust in the Divine Provider while responsibly pursuing lawful means?

The true believer is not one who abandons business but one who refuses to become its slave. He earns wealth but does not worship it. He plans for the future but does not imagine that planning controls destiny. He maintains bank accounts but does not derive ultimate security from the numbers they contain. His confidence rests not in economic systems but in the promises of Allah.

Conversely, when a person becomes so consumed by financial anxiety that all hopes and fears revolve around material considerations, something essential has been lost. Such an individual may continue to profess faith verbally, yet the practical reality of Tawhid has been weakened. The Qur’an consistently warns against allowing worldly concerns to dominate the heart.

Every age has its unique trial. Some generations faced the temptation of idol worship. Others endured political oppression, intellectual confusion, or moral decadence. The defining trial of our age may well be materialism itself—the belief that security, dignity, and happiness can be achieved solely through economic means. This does not mean that poverty is inherently virtuous or that wealth is inherently evil. Islam rejects both romanticized poverty and unrestrained consumerism. Rather, it seeks a balanced path in which material resources serve spiritual and ethical goals.

This is precisely where Zakat assumes its transformative significance. Zakat is not merely a fiscal mechanism. It is a spiritual discipline. It weakens the ego’s attachment to wealth. It reminds the affluent that their possessions are not exclusively theirs. It restores dignity to the poor by recognizing their rights. Most importantly, it affirms that Allah—not wealth—is the true source of provision. The same can be said of Sadaqah, generosity, contentment (Qana’ah), and Tawakkul. These virtues represent a form of spiritual resistance against the idolization of wealth. They remind believers that human value cannot be measured by market standards and that genuine success lies in divine pleasure rather than financial accumulation.

Indeed, one of the greatest tragedies of contemporary life is that many people possess more wealth than any previous generation yet experience unprecedented anxiety. Despite insurance, investments, pensions, and technological conveniences, fear continues to dominate modern existence. This paradox reveals an important truth: material security alone cannot satisfy the deeper needs of the human soul. The heart seeks certainty, meaning, and transcendence. These cannot be purchased in financial markets. They emerge from faith, trust, and a living relationship with God. It is for this reason that I have come to view Tawakkul upon the Divine Provider as one of the most important indicators of authentic Tawhid in our time. It functions as a kind of spiritual litmus test. It distinguishes between verbal belief and existential faith, between religious identity and genuine reliance upon Allah. The issue is not whether one possesses wealth. The issue is whether wealth possesses the individual. The issue is not whether one uses worldly means. The issue is whether one’s heart becomes captive to them. As our world becomes increasingly driven by economic fears, financial competition, and material aspirations, believers face a profound challenge. They must live within the world of causes without becoming prisoners of those causes. They must work diligently while recognizing that results ultimately belong to Allah. They must plan wisely while remembering that the future remains in His hands.

The challenge of our age, therefore, is not merely to affirm Tawhid intellectually but to embody it practically. The believer must demonstrate through his relationship with Rizq that he truly believes in Al-Razzaq, the Ultimate Provider. He must show through Zakat that wealth is a trust. He must reveal through Tawakkul that his deepest security lies not in financial institutions but in the Lord of the Worlds. In an era obsessed with material certainty, this may well be the most powerful testimony of faith. It is the practical examination of Tawhid, the defining spiritual challenge of our time, and perhaps the clearest litmus test separating appearance from reality, claim from conviction, and nominal belief from living faith.

(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

hamidnaseem@gmail.com

“Ghazali does not seek to destroy reason; rather, he uses logic and metaphysics on the philosophers’ own terms to preserve theological coherence. While critics argue he exposes contradictions without resolving them, defenders view him as establishing the limits of speculative philosophy. Ultimately, his legacy is the transformation of Islamic intellectual discourse by forcing theology and philosophy into a lasting dialogue on faith and reason.”

Ghazali’s Critique, Its Limitations : One of the major critiques of Ghazali’s approach is that while he effectively exposes tensions within philosophical arguments, he does not always provide a fully developed alternative metaphysical system that resolves these tensions. For example, in the debate on the eternity of the world, Ghazali offers arguments based on divine will and temporal creation. However, philosophers respond that temporal creation itself requires explanation in terms of causality and necessity, leading to further metaphysical complexity. Some modern critics argue that Ghazali’s role is closer to that of a dialectical critic than a systematic philosopher in this domain. He highlights contradictions but does not always resolve them in a unified theoretical framework. However, defenders of Ghazali argue that his goal was not to construct an alternative philosophy but to demonstrate the limits of metaphysical speculation when it contradicts revelation.
The Charge Of Takfir, Philosophical Consequences: Perhaps the most controversial aspect of Tahāfut al-Falāsifah is Ghazali’s declaration that the three aforementioned doctrines constitute kufr (disbelief). He argues that these beliefs lead to the denial of prophetic truth and therefore amount to disbelief in Islam. In his concluding remarks, Ghazali states that philosophers who hold these views are liable to severe religious consequences, including capital punishment under Islamic law. This reflects the seriousness with which medieval theology treated doctrinal deviation, especially when it threatened foundational beliefs. Ghazali justifies this position by arguing that such doctrines may mislead ordinary believers and weaken the authority of revelation. However, he also clarifies that not all philosophical positions are rejected. Out of twenty issues, most are considered either mistaken interpretations or differences of opinion rather than outright disbelief.
Philosophy, Theology, Misinterpretation: A critical issue in the interpretation of Ghazali’s critique is whether he misunderstood the philosophers. Many scholars argue that Ghazali often interpreted philosophical positions in a theological framework that did not fully capture their metaphysical intent. For instance, when philosophers speak of God’s knowledge of particulars, they are not necessarily denying it, but redefining it in non-temporal terms. Similarly, the eternity of the world is not necessarily meant as absolute independence from God but as a necessary emanation in some philosophical systems. Thus, some critiques suggest that Ghazali’s refutation sometimes targets a simplified version of philosophical doctrines rather than their most sophisticated formulations.
Intellectual Context, Purpose of Tahāfut: Ghazali’s work must be understood in its broader intellectual context. Islamic civilization had already engaged deeply with Greek philosophy through translation movements. Thinkers like al-Farabi and Ibn Sina had integrated Aristotelian logic and metaphysics into Islamic intellectual discourse. Ghazali’s concern was not philosophy itself but the elevation of metaphysical speculation to a level that rivaled or contradicted revelation. He therefore attempts to draw boundaries between acceptable rational inquiry and speculative metaphysics that undermines core theological principles. In this sense, Tahāfut al-Falāsifah is not anti-intellectual but boundary-setting. It is an attempt to preserve the coherence of religious doctrine in the face of complex philosophical systems.
Conclusion: Imam al-Ghazali’s Tahāfut al-Falāsifah remains one of the most influential works in the history of Islamic thought. It is neither a simple rejection of philosophy nor a purely theological attack. Rather, it is a sophisticated engagement with philosophical reasoning using philosophical tools themselves. Ghazali accepts logic, engages metaphysics, and critiques philosophers on their own terms. His primary concern is not the destruction of reason but the preservation of theological coherence. However, the debate surrounding his work continues. Critics argue that he identifies contradictions without fully resolving them, while defenders see his role as exposing the limits of speculative philosophy. Ultimately, Ghazali’s legacy lies in his ability to transform Islamic intellectual discourse by forcing philosophy and theology into a sustained dialogue—one that continues to shape contemporary discussions on faith, reason, and metaphysics.
(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

hamidnaseem@gmail.com

The investigation published by Al Jazeera alleging that at least 51 countries and territories continued military-related transfers to Israel after the January 2024 provisional measures issued by the International Court of Justice raises grave ethical questions about the conscience of the contemporary international order. According to the report, thousands of consignments worth hundreds of millions of dollars allegedly entered Israel after the Court warned of a “plausible risk of genocide” in Gaza. The allegation that more than ninety percent of the shipments arrived after that warning transforms the issue from mere geopolitical alignment into something morally far more troubling: deliberate indifference to catastrophic civilian suffering.

This is not merely a debate about diplomacy or military contracts. It is fundamentally a question about the value assigned to Palestinian life in the hierarchy of global politics. The tragedy of Gaza has exposed an uncomfortable truth about the modern world: international law is often invoked selectively, humanitarian principles are frequently subordinated to strategic alliances, and the language of human rights becomes strangely muted when the victims belong to politically inconvenient populations.

The images emerging from the Gaza Strip have shaken the conscience of millions across the globe. One witnessed not isolated incidents of violence, but the systematic destruction of civilian infrastructure on a massive scale. Residential towers collapsed into dust. Schools became shelters and then targets. Medical facilities struggled without electricity, medicine, or fuel. Children underwent amputations without anesthesia. Families searched for loved ones beneath ruins with bare hands. Entire populations were displaced repeatedly from one unsafe zone to another. Humanitarian agencies warned of famine, epidemic disease, and the collapse of basic human survival systems.

Yet during this unfolding catastrophe, many governments that publicly spoke about ceasefires, restraint, humanitarian corridors, and concern for civilians reportedly continued allowing military-related exports and transfers. This contradiction revealed a profound moral hypocrisy at the center of international politics. Public rhetoric emphasized compassion; policy decisions facilitated continued warfare. Leaders delivered speeches about human rights while supply chains of destruction allegedly continued operating behind the scenes.

This duality is what many people across the world perceive as callousness. It is not merely that governments supported an ally; states have always pursued alliances and strategic interests. Rather, the outrage stems from the apparent willingness to continue military cooperation despite overwhelming evidence of civilian devastation. There comes a point in every conflict where neutrality becomes impossible and silence itself becomes a moral position. When hospitals, refugee camps, and humanitarian shelters are repeatedly destroyed, continued arms transfers inevitably raise questions about complicity, responsibility, and conscience.

The moral contradiction becomes even more glaring when one considers how differently international law has been applied in other global conflicts. In numerous geopolitical crises, Western powers and their allies have imposed immediate sanctions, embargoes, diplomatic isolation, and sweeping moral condemnation upon states accused of violating international norms. Yet in the case of Gaza, many of the same governments appeared hesitant, cautious, or evasive. Some merely announced partial suspensions of specific licenses while allowing previously approved contracts to continue. Others issued symbolic humanitarian statements while preserving the essential military relationship.

For much of the Global South, this has reinforced the perception that the international system operates through selective morality. The principle appears simple: when adversaries violate human rights, international law becomes sacred; when allies are accused of grave abuses, legal language suddenly becomes cautious, technical, and ambiguous. This perceived double standard has severely damaged the credibility of international institutions and human-rights discourse in the eyes of millions.

The tragedy is compounded by the fact that the suffering of Palestinians has persisted for generations. Gaza did not emerge in a historical vacuum. The blockade, occupation, cycles of bombardment, displacement, and political marginalization created conditions of profound despair long before the latest war. None of this justifies attacks on civilians by any side, including those carried out by Hamas in October 2023, which resulted in horrific civilian deaths and hostages. The killing of civilians is morally unacceptable regardless of identity or nationality. However, acknowledging the crimes of one actor cannot morally justify collective punishment against an entire population.

One of the most disturbing aspects of modern warfare is the bureaucratization of suffering. Human destruction is reduced to strategic calculations, procurement chains, logistical reports, and diplomatic talking points. Behind every missile component or ammunition shipment lies the possibility of another destroyed family, another orphaned child, another mass grave. Yet governments often discuss these transfers in sanitized technical language detached from the human consequences on the ground. This bureaucratic distancing allows states to participate indirectly in violence while avoiding emotional accountability.

“A civilization’s true measure is not its wealth or power, but its capacity to protect the vulnerable during extreme suffering. When states ignore humanitarian warnings and continue enabling destruction, indifference becomes a moral choice and a form of participation that history will ultimately condemn.”

The investigation’s claim that explosive munitions constituted the majority of imports is particularly alarming because explosive warfare in densely populated civilian areas almost inevitably produces catastrophic humanitarian outcomes. Gaza is one of the most densely populated territories in the world. The repeated use of heavy explosives in such an environment cannot be separated from the resulting civilian toll. Entire generations of children have now grown up amid siege, trauma, displacement, and devastation. Many have lost parents, siblings, homes, schools, and any meaningful sense of security.

What does it mean for humanity when powerful nations witness such suffering daily and continue business as usual? What does it reveal about the moral condition of modern civilization when geopolitical alliances outweigh the lives of thousands of children? These are not rhetorical questions born merely from political anger; they are ethical questions that history will continue asking long after the war ends.

The role of the arms industry in this crisis also deserves scrutiny. Modern warfare is sustained not only by ideology and nationalism but by enormous economic structures. Arms manufacturing is among the most profitable sectors in the world, deeply intertwined with political lobbying, strategic alliances, and state interests. In such a system, war itself risks becoming economically normalized. Human suffering becomes secondary to contracts, markets, technological partnerships, and geopolitical leverage. The commercialization of destruction represents one of the gravest moral failures of contemporary civilization.

Equally troubling has been the relative impotence of international institutions. The United Nations issued warnings, humanitarian agencies raised alarms, legal experts debated obligations under the Genocide Convention, and human-rights organizations documented extensive civilian harm. Yet the machinery of war largely continued uninterrupted. This has led many observers to conclude that international law lacks meaningful enforcement when powerful states or their allies are involved. Law appears strongest against the weak and weakest against the powerful.

The psychological impact of this perceived injustice cannot be underestimated. Across the Muslim world and beyond, millions have experienced profound disillusionment with global political institutions. Young people watching Gaza are not merely observing a regional conflict; they are witnessing what they perceive as the collapse of universal moral principles. Many now question whether concepts such as human rights, international justice, and humanitarian law genuinely apply equally to all human beings.

The silence or hesitation of many intellectual, political, and media institutions has also drawn criticism. In many countries, expressions of solidarity with Palestinians were sometimes marginalized, politicized, or treated with suspicion, while criticism of Israeli military conduct was occasionally framed as controversial rather than humanitarian. Such dynamics further deepened the perception that Palestinian suffering is treated as less morally urgent than other forms of suffering.

Yet amid this darkness, there has also emerged a remarkable global awakening of conscience. Across universities, streets, religious institutions, civil society movements, and humanitarian networks, millions of ordinary people protested, donated aid, organized campaigns, and demanded accountability. This global solidarity demonstrated that while governments may act according to strategic calculations, ordinary human beings often retain the capacity for moral empathy beyond political boundaries.

History repeatedly shows that societies are eventually judged not by their slogans but by their conduct during moments of mass suffering. Future generations will ask difficult questions. They will ask who supplied weapons, who justified destruction, who remained silent, who spoke selectively, and who defended universal human dignity even when it was politically inconvenient. They will ask why the deaths of some civilians generated immediate international outrage while the deaths of others produced diplomatic caution and semantic debates.

The tragedy of Gaza is therefore not only a humanitarian disaster; it is also a moral mirror held before the modern world. It exposes the fragility of international ethics in the face of power politics. It reveals how easily legal principles can bend before strategic interests. Most painfully, it demonstrates how entire populations can become dehumanized when their suffering conflicts with geopolitical priorities.

At its deepest level, the outrage surrounding continued military support to Israel during the destruction of Gaza stems from a simple moral intuition shared across cultures and religions: human life possesses intrinsic dignity. No child should be buried beneath rubble because of geopolitical alliances. No mother should watch her family starve because world powers failed to act. No people should endure collective devastation while nations debate technicalities of export licenses and diplomatic language.

Civilization cannot merely be measured by technological advancement, military strength, or economic prosperity. Its true measure lies in the capacity to protect vulnerable human beings during moments of extreme suffering. When states continue enabling destruction despite overwhelming humanitarian warnings, they risk not only political criticism but moral condemnation in the court of human history.

The world today stands confronted by an uncomfortable truth: indifference can become a form of participation. To witness mass suffering and continue enabling the instruments of destruction is not neutrality. It is a moral choice. And history rarely forgets such choices.
(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

hamidnaseem@gmail.com

“Syed Ali Hamadani (Shah-i-Hamadan) was a multifaceted Islamic leader who peacefully transformed Kashmiri society through scholarship, spirituality, and social reform. By combining devotion with humanitarian service, he laid the foundations for Kashmir’s Islamic civilization, leaving a legacy that continues to inspire globally centuries later.”

Literary Contributions: Syed Ali Hamadani was a prolific writer and intellectual. More than one hundred works are attributed to him, though many have been lost over time. His writings cover theology, spirituality, ethics, governance, politics, jurisprudence, and devotional practice.
Among his most famous works are:
Zakhirat Al-Muluk: This work discusses principles of governance and political ethics. Hamadani advised rulers to establish justice, protect the weak, avoid oppression, and govern according to moral principles. The book reflects his belief that political authority is a sacred trust rather than a means of personal power.
Awrad-i-Fathiyyah: This famous collection of prayers and supplications remains widely recited in Kashmir and other regions. It reflects his deep spiritual orientation and emphasis on remembrance of God.
Risalah Dhikriyyah: This treatise explains the importance of dhikr (remembrance of God) and spiritual purification in Sufi practice.
Chihil Asrar (Forty Secrets): This work discusses spiritual ethics and mystical insights. His writings reveal an attempt to harmonize Shariah and Tasawwuf. He strongly rejected the separation of spirituality from religious law and insisted that genuine mysticism must remain rooted in the Qur’an and Sunnah.
Political Thought, Vision Of Society : Syed Ali Hamadani’s political ideas demonstrate his broad understanding of society and governance. In Zakhirat al-Muluk, he emphasized justice as the foundation of political order. According to him, rulers were accountable before God and responsible for protecting society from corruption and oppression. He argued that a stable society depends upon cooperation between rulers, scholars, merchants, and ordinary citizens. Moral decline among rulers, he believed, leads to social chaos and injustice. Hamadani also stressed the importance of education, consultation, and ethical leadership. His political philosophy reflected classical Islamic ideals in which governance was linked with morality and public welfare.
Spiritual Teachings, Sufi Philosophy: The spiritual teachings of Syed Ali Hamadani were grounded in the Qur’an, Sunnah, and Sufi tradition. His spirituality emphasized inner purification without neglecting social responsibility. Some central themes of his teachings include: Constant remembrance of God, Purification of the heart, Humility and self-discipline
Service to humanity, Obedience to divine commandments, Avoidance of greed and arrogance. He opposed extreme asceticism and believed that spirituality should remain connected with practical life. For Hamadani, a true Sufi was one who combined worship with ethical conduct and service to society.
His teachings deeply influenced Kashmiri spirituality and contributed to the development of a tolerant and spiritually oriented religious culture.
Influence on Persian Culture, Literature in Kashmir: Syed Ali Hamadani also played a major role in spreading Persian language and culture in Kashmir. Persian gradually became the language of administration, scholarship, poetry, and intellectual discourse in the region. His disciples established educational institutions and literary circles that promoted Persian learning. This cultural transformation connected Kashmir with the wider Persianate Islamic civilization extending from Iran to Central Asia and India. The influence of Persian literature, calligraphy, architecture, and aesthetics became deeply visible in Kashmiri society due largely to the intellectual movement associated with Hamadani.

Final Years, Death: Toward the end of his life, Syed Ali Hamadani continued traveling and preaching. During one of his journeys through Central Asia, he fell ill and passed away in 1384 CE (786 AH) in Kunar or near present-day Afghanistan according to many historical accounts. His body was later taken to Kulab in present-day Tajikistan, where his shrine remains an important site of reverence. Even after his death, his disciples continued spreading his teachings throughout Kashmir and neighboring regions.

Legacy, Historical Significance: The legacy of Mir Sayyid Ali Hamadani remains deeply alive in Kashmir and beyond. He is remembered not merely as a Sufi saint but as a civilizational figure who transformed religion, culture, economy, and society. His contributions can be seen in: The spread of Islam in Kashmir, Development of Sufi traditions, Growth of Persian culture, Expansion of handicrafts and industries, Educational and literary advancement.
Ethical, Spiritual Reform: Kashmir’s spiritual identity, artistic traditions, and socio-cultural heritage continue to reflect his enduring influence. His khanqahs remain centers of devotion and remembrance, while his writings continue to be studied by scholars and spiritual seekers.
Conclusion: Syed Ali Hamadani occupies a unique position in the history of Islam in South Asia. He was simultaneously a scholar, saint, missionary, reformer, thinker, economist, and social organizer. Through peaceful preaching, intellectual leadership, and spiritual guidance, he transformed Kashmiri society and laid the foundations of a vibrant Islamic civilization in the region.
His life demonstrates that true religious leadership combines spirituality with social responsibility, scholarship with humility, and devotion with service to humanity. The enduring reverence for Shah-i-Hamadan in Kashmir reflects the depth of his influence and the timeless relevance of his teachings. Even centuries after his death, his legacy continues to inspire scholars, spiritual seekers, and communities across the Islamic world.
(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
hamidnaseem@gmail.com

“To revive, the Muslim Ummah must return to sincere Tawhid, authentic Sunnah, critical reflection, and revelation-grounded spiritual reform rather than inherited mysticism. This restores the balance between spirituality and orthodoxy practiced by early generations and the greatest saints.”

The early ascetics and righteous Sufis cried in the night out of fear of Allah, studied Hadith, followed Sunnah meticulously, and avoided fame. Many modern “spiritual” systems, however, revolve around celebrity pirs, hereditary sajjada-nashins, miracle stories, financial exploitation, and unquestioning allegiance. In some places, disciples are taught more about the sayings of their pir than the meanings of the Qur’an itself.
The Qur’an repeatedly condemns blind following: “And when it is said to them: Follow what Allah has revealed, they say: Rather, we follow that upon which we found our forefathers” (Qur’an 2:170). This verse painfully reflects the condition of many Muslim societies today, where inherited customs are defended even when they contradict authentic teachings. True Tasawwuf was never against knowledge, reason, or direct worship of Allah. The real Sufis emphasized purification of the heart from arrogance, greed, envy, ostentation, and worldly obsession. They taught sincerity, humility, remembrance of Allah, night prayer, repentance, and service to humanity. But when Sufism becomes detached from the Qur’an and Sunnah, it transforms from spiritual purification into spiritual manipulation.
Islam is astonishingly simple in its essence: Worship Allah alone. Follow His Messenger (SAW) . Read and understand the Qur’an. Purify your heart. Serve humanity. Prepare for the Hereafter. No saint can replace personal accountability before Allah. Allah says: “And that there is not for man except that for which he strives” (Qur’an 53:39). The revival of the Muslim Ummah will not come through shrine culture, sectarian slogans, ritual innovations, or exaggerated devotion to personalities. It will come when Muslims return to the Book of Allah with understanding, revive the Sunnah authentically, and restore Tawhid to the center of faith and life. This does not mean rejecting all spirituality or condemning every form of Tasawwuf. Rather, it means distinguishing between authentic spiritual purification rooted in revelation and practices that distort Islam under the cover of love for saints and piety.
Love for the righteous is part of Islam.
Turning them into intermediaries of divine power is not.
Respecting scholars and spiritual teachers is commendable.
Blind obedience that overrides the Qur’an and Sunnah is dangerous.
Seeking purification of the soul is essential.
Inventing rituals and superstitions in religion is not.
The Muslim Ummah today desperately needs a revival of Qur’anic consciousness — a return to sincere Tawhid, authentic Sunnah, critical reflection, and spiritual reform grounded in revelation rather than inherited mysticism. Only then can the balance between spirituality and orthodoxy be restored, as it was understood by the earliest generations of Islam and the greatest saints of this Ummah themselves.
(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)

Recent diplomatic exchanges involving remarks by political leaders from Europe regarding India’s internal social conditions have once again opened debates on pluralism and minority rights in India. While criticism and dialogue are natural in democratic engagement, understanding India requires a deeper appreciation of its civilisational foundations. India is not merely a modern nation-state created in 1947; it is an ancient civilisation shaped over thousands of years by interaction, accommodation, and cultural synthesis. The idea of India has always rested upon plurality rather than uniformity.

The roots of communal harmony in India can be traced back to the earliest phases of Indian civilisation. The ancient Indian worldview was fundamentally inclusive. The Rigveda famously declared: “Ekam sat vipra bahudha vadanti” — Truth is one, sages call it by many names. This philosophical principle became the foundation of Indian pluralism. Unlike many ancient societies that sought cultural homogeneity, India developed a civilisational ethos that accepted multiplicity in belief and practice.

The emergence of Hinduism itself demonstrates this openness. Rather than being a rigidly centralised religion, it evolved through assimilation of regional traditions, local customs, tribal practices, and philosophical schools. Over centuries, Shaivism, Vaishnavism, Shaktism, Buddhism, Jainism, and later Sikhism emerged and flourished within the same geographical and cultural space. The coexistence of diverse paths of worship became a defining feature of Indian society.

Buddhism and Jainism, which arose in the sixth century BCE, challenged prevailing social and ritual structures, yet they were not annihilated through systematic persecution. Instead, they entered into philosophical dialogue with other traditions. Emperor Ashoka’s reign in the third century BCE remains one of the finest examples of state-sponsored pluralism in world history. After embracing Buddhism, Ashoka did not impose his faith upon the empire. His edicts repeatedly instructed citizens to respect all religious sects and condemned hatred among communities. His message of “Dhamma” emphasised tolerance, compassion, and mutual respect.

India’s openness toward external communities further strengthened its pluralistic identity. Jewish communities arrived on the western coast of India more than two thousand years ago. Unlike many parts of the world where Jews experienced persecution, Indian society largely welcomed them, allowing them to preserve their religious and cultural identity while participating fully in social and economic life. Similarly, Christianity reached India through the Malabar Coast according to ancient traditions associated with Saint Thomas the Apostle. Indian Christians lived peacefully for centuries and contributed significantly to education, healthcare, and intellectual life.

The arrival of Islam in India represents another major chapter in the story of coexistence. Islam came not merely through conquest but also through trade, scholarship, and Sufi spiritual networks. Arab traders had commercial and cultural interactions with coastal India during the lifetime of Prophet Muhammad. Muslim communities emerged peacefully in Kerala and along the western coast centuries before the establishment of Muslim political dynasties in North India.

The spread of Islam in India was deeply influenced by Sufism, which emphasised love, spirituality, equality, and service to humanity. Sufi saints such as Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti, Nizamuddin Auliya, Shah Hamadan, and countless others created spaces where people from different faiths gathered together. Their shrines became symbols of interfaith harmony and cultural synthesis. The Bhakti movement within Hindu traditions paralleled this inclusive spirituality. Saints like Kabir, Guru Nanak, Ravidas, and Mirabai transcended rigid communal boundaries and emphasised devotion, humanity, and moral integrity over sectarianism.

The Mughal period, despite episodes of conflict and political contestation common to all empires, also produced important examples of cultural integration. Emperor Akbar’s policy of Sulh-i-Kul, meaning “peace with all,” promoted religious tolerance and administrative inclusion. His court included scholars from multiple religious traditions, and translations of Sanskrit texts into Persian facilitated intellectual exchange. Indo-Islamic civilisation flourished through architecture, music, literature, cuisine, and language. Urdu itself emerged as a linguistic symbol of cultural interaction between Persian, Arabic, Turkish, and Indian linguistic traditions.

India’s composite culture was not confined to royal courts or elite circles. Everyday life in villages and towns reflected shared cultural practices. Festivals, local traditions, folk songs, crafts, and regional customs often transcended communal divisions. Hindus participated in Muharram processions in many regions; Muslims contributed to local Hindu festivals; Sikh Gurudwaras welcomed all communities through the institution of langar. Shared sacred spaces became common throughout the subcontinent.

The colonial period, however, introduced new tensions. British colonial policies often relied upon “divide and rule,” institutionalising communal identities through census classifications, separate electorates, and political representation based on religious categories. Communal consciousness increasingly became politicised. Yet even during the freedom struggle, India produced extraordinary examples of inter-communal solidarity.

The Indian national movement was fundamentally pluralistic. Leaders from different religions, regions, languages, and ideologies participated together in the struggle against colonial rule. Mahatma Gandhi envisioned India as a moral civilisation rooted in interfaith harmony. Maulana Abul Kalam Azad defended composite nationalism and rejected the notion that religion alone could determine nationhood. Khan Abdul Ghaffar Khan, known as the Frontier Gandhi, demonstrated how Islamic ethics and nonviolence could coexist. Rabindranath Tagore warned against narrow nationalism and emphasised universal humanism.

 “India’s history—from ancient edicts and spiritual movements to the freedom struggle and the Constitution—is defined by pluralism and mutual respect. Preserving this heritage of coexistence is vital for both India’s progress and the moral future of humanity.”

The tragedy of Partition in 1947 undoubtedly left deep wounds. Communal violence on an unprecedented scale displaced millions and caused immense suffering. Yet the survival of India as a secular democratic republic after Partition remains one of history’s most remarkable achievements. At a time when many expected India to become a majoritarian state, its Constitution guaranteed equality before law, freedom of religion, minority educational rights, linguistic protections, and democratic participation.

The Indian Constitution reflects the civilisational wisdom accumulated over centuries. It does not merely tolerate diversity; it institutionalises it. India recognises multiple official languages, protects religious freedom, allows personal laws for different communities, and accommodates enormous cultural variation within a single democratic framework. The electoral participation of diverse communities and peaceful transitions of power demonstrate the resilience of Indian democracy.

India’s minorities have played foundational roles in nation-building. Muslims contributed immensely to literature, music, law, politics, sports, cinema, education, and the armed forces. Christians established some of the country’s finest educational and medical institutions. Sikhs have been central to agriculture, military service, entrepreneurship, and philanthropy. Parsis, despite being numerically small, made extraordinary contributions to industry, science, and public life. Jains and Buddhists enriched ethical and philosophical traditions. This collective contribution underscores that Indian identity cannot be reduced to any single religious or cultural category.

At the same time, it would be intellectually dishonest to romanticise history by ignoring moments of conflict. India has experienced communal riots, social discrimination, political polarisation, and episodes of violence. Every society carries contradictions and tensions. However, what distinguishes India is not the absence of conflict but the persistence of coexistence despite conflict. The larger arc of Indian history points toward accommodation rather than annihilation.

Today, preserving communal harmony has become more urgent than ever. Rapid technological changes, social media misinformation, political polarisation,     economic inequality, and global ideological conflicts can intensify mistrust among communities. External commentary on India often fails to appreciate the scale and complexity of managing diversity in a nation of more than 1.4 billion people with hundreds of languages, multiple religions, and vast regional variations.

Constructive criticism is important in any democracy, but simplistic portrayals of India as fundamentally intolerant ignore both historical realities and contemporary complexities. India’s democratic framework allows criticism, elections, judicial intervention, media debate, and civil society activism precisely because democratic institutions continue to function robustly. The very public nature of debates about minority rights and freedom reflects the vitality of democratic engagement.

The preservation of communal harmony requires responsibilities from all sections of society. Political leaders must avoid rhetoric that deepens divisions. Religious scholars and institutions should emphasise ethical teachings of compassion, justice, and coexistence found within all traditions. Educational institutions should teach India’s shared civilisational history rather than sectarian narratives. Media organisations must act responsibly and resist sensationalism that amplifies hatred. Citizens themselves must cultivate empathy and reject prejudice.

India’s younger generation especially carries the responsibility of protecting this pluralistic heritage. They must recognise that diversity is not a weakness but India’s greatest strength. The Indian civilisation survived invasions, colonialism, economic exploitation, and political upheavals precisely because it possessed the capacity to absorb differences and renew itself continuously.

The philosophical foundations for coexistence already exist within India’s spiritual traditions. Hindu thought speaks of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam — the world as one family. Islamic teachings emphasise justice, mercy, and the dignity of all human beings. Sikhism advocates equality and service. Buddhism promotes compassion and nonviolence. Christianity teaches love and forgiveness. Jainism upholds ahimsa, or nonviolence toward all living beings. These traditions, despite doctrinal differences, converge around shared ethical principles that can strengthen social harmony.

The future of India depends upon strengthening this shared moral foundation. Economic growth alone cannot sustain a nation without social trust. Democracy cannot flourish without mutual respect among communities. National unity cannot be built upon fear or exclusion. India’s civilisational greatness lies precisely in its ability to accommodate difference while maintaining cohesion.

The world today faces rising xenophobia, ethnic nationalism, religious extremism, and social fragmentation. In such a global environment, India’s pluralistic experience carries universal significance. The Indian model demonstrates that large-scale diversity can coexist with democracy, constitutionalism, and national identity. Preserving this model is therefore not only a national responsibility but also a contribution to global peace.

Ultimately, communal harmony in India is not merely a political necessity; it is a civilisational imperative. The idea of India was never founded upon racial purity, linguistic uniformity, or religious exclusivism. It emerged from centuries of dialogue between communities, faiths, and cultures. Protecting this heritage requires wisdom, patience, constitutional commitment, and moral courage.

India’s history offers countless examples of coexistence, cultural synthesis, and mutual respect. From Ashoka’s edicts to Sufi shrines, from Bhakti poetry to the freedom movement, from the Constitution to contemporary democratic participation, the story of India remains deeply intertwined with pluralism. Preserving this inheritance is essential not only for India’s stability and progress but also for the moral future of humanity itself.

(The author a veteran academician is a former Professor and Head Department of Islamic Studies, Kashmir University. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)