Islam, the State & Civil Society:

Contemporary Islamic Movements and Thought

Chapter 18

Avoiding Bibliolatry:

The Importance of Revitalizing the Understanding of Islam

by Ulil Abshar-Abdalla¹

Sirr-u ‘l-Qur’âni wa lubâbuh-u l’Ashfâ, wa maqshaduh-u ‘l-aqshâ da’wat-u ‘l-‘ibâd-i ilâ ‘l-Jabbâr-i ‘l-A’lâ.

The secret of the Qur’an – which is simultaneously its most brilliant concept and primary objective – is to ‘invite’ humans to return to God.

                     – Imam al-Ghazali, Jawâhir-u ‘l-Qur’ân (Qur’anic Gems)

Wherever bibliolatry has prevailed, bigotry and cruelty have accompanied it.

                     – T.H. Huxley, Science and Hebrew tradition

I.  Qur’anic Inter-textuality and the Living Revelation

One matter that has been haunting the worldwide Muslim community is this: How can we live in accordance with the demands of religious scripture on the one hand, and on the other adjust ourselves to historical developments? How can we, on the one hand, adapt incessantly to change, and on the other, continue to be good Muslims? How do we become authentic and modern all at once? How do we embrace change, while remaining faithful to the fundamental principles of our religion? How do we maintain a balance between “ashalah” (original identity) and “hadatsah” (modernity), to use terminology popular in Arab intellectual circles, to describe the choices confronting us?

An Egyptian author, Professor Nasr Hamid Abu Zaid, made an important statement for us to consider: “wa laisa min qabilit tabsîth an nashifal hadlarat ‘arabîyyatal Islamîyyah bi annahâ hadlaratun ‘nash.”² It is not untrue to say that Islamic and Arabic civilization revolve around “the text,” or scripture. The central role of the text has made it into a “paradigm,” which has framed nearly all Muslims’ lives throughout history. Of course Professor Zaid’s statement is somewhat exaggerated.  However, as I shall demonstrate, the text does indeed occupy a position of importance in all Muslim lives.

I said that Zaid’s statement is exaggerated, because what we observe in real life is the interaction between religious text and social realities which change frequently. In real life, text and context always interact with each other in such a way that at times, the context is capable of determining the text itself. The essential nature of contextual position has been endorsed by Islamic principles of jurisprudence (qa’idah fiqhiyah): al ‘âdah muhakkamah; i.e, social customs and traditions can become the source of law. Therefore, the scriptures have historically been interpreted leniently, in accordance with the dynamic development of various societies. Yet although our interpretive tradition recognizes context as an important requirement for properly understanding the text, in the final analysis we must admit the supremacy of the text itself. For that reason Professor Zaid’s statement is indeed true, viz., that Islamic civilization (which, in the first instance, is none other than Arabic civilization) is a textual civilization.

I want to eleucidate Professor Zaid’s observation further, by stating that Islamic civilization is one which is fundamentally based upon the “word,” or “lafadz,” and not merely the text. Briefly, it may be stated that the supremacy of the text or the word is a basic principle of Islamic teaching. Why does the text occupy a place of supremacy in our religion? It is obviously related to a key “theological concept” which requires great courage to deconstruct: that God speaks directly to humans via the prophet; that God’s Word is superior to that of humans; and that God’s Word, as long as there are no strong and well-founded reasons to the contrary, should be interpreted literally.

The theological concept which supports this “scripturalism” depends upon a rather ridiculous assumption, as follows. The more literally we interpret God’s Word, the closer we are to His true will; while the more willfully and enthusiastically we engage in “ta’wil,” or non-literal interpretation, the further we distance ourselves from God’s true will. Text thus becomes a sort of axis around which all believers’ deeds rotate. The closer we get to the central point of the axis, the greater the possibility for us to approach the essence of the religion; the further we are from the axis, the further we are from the religion’s presumed essence. This closeness and distance are measured by conformity (or lack thereof) with the literal word or text. This “ultra-Theocentric” theological concept explains why the text is placed in the centre, whereas the real and contextual human experience is given an inferior, subordinate, and even meaningless status.

If we intend to do something which will hopefully be useful to revitalize Islamic thought, the first issue we must confront is crystal clear: how do we position ourselves vis-à-vis the text? If we recognize that the Qur’an and the Sunnah (prophetic tradition) are none other than a bundle of texts, the question immediately arises: What should we do with these two great texts? The question I raised at the beginning of this article relates to the demand for balance between “obeying the teaching” and “changing it in accordance with progress”; between being authentic and simultaneously modern. This in turn evokes another question: is it right to abandon the physical substance of the text in order to keep pace with progress? How far can the religious text be taken in terms of a literal understanding? At what point do we say “good-bye” to a literal interpretation of the text? Where, with a peaceful heart, can the literal meaning of the Great Text (Qur’an and Sunnah) be abandoned and substituted by another, non-literal interpretation which is more appropriate and consistent with contemporary human needs?

If the “ultra-Theocentric” theological concept described above is responsible for the tremendous supremacy of the text, can we formulate an alternate theological concept that is more anthropocentric? Given the optimistic and advanced Islamic concept of human dignity – QS 2:30 describes humanity as khalifah (God’s vice-regents), for instance, while QS 17:70 talks about the concept of “takrîm,” or human dignity – it is ridiculous that humans should be denied “agency” to interpret the text; or that when this issue is considered, human agency should be subordinated to the text.

In classic Islamic law it is said “al ibrah bi’umûmi al-lafz, lâ bikhushûshi al-sabab” – the universality of the text must serve as the fundamental guide, not the particularity of any given context. This principle, directly or indirectly, subordinates the particularities of diverse human experience to the text of the Qur’an or Sunnah. Yet this interpretive concept indirectly contradicts a fundamental principle of the Qur’an, which places human beings in an exalted position. I have remarked that the Qur’an has a bright and optimistic perspective regarding humans (the concept of takrîm). From my perspective, however, humans are not “abstract idealized beings,” but rather, persons with concrete experience. Honoring the human also means admitting the complexity of individual human experience, which cannot be subjugated by the “universal” text. For the “ultra-Theocentric” theological concept which leads to the supremacy of the text inevitably alienates human beings from their own experience.

We frequently hear that a specific legal stipulation in Islam (that governing inheritance being the most often-quoted example) is final and authoritative. People take this assumption for granted, based on a simplistic conception that the law is Allah’s Word and command. One Qur’anic verse (33:36) is often quoted as the primary basis for this interpretation: It is not for true believers – men or women – to decide their own affairs if Allah and His Messenger decree otherwise.  He that disobeys Allah and His Messenger strays far indeed.  This verse is held to validate the widespread belief among contemporary Muslims that they must subordinate their lives to the text without reservation, and without taking into account changes which have occurred since the time the Qur’an or Sunnah were written.

However, is it actually true that this verse represents a well-constructed argument validating the supremacy of the text, and that the more literal your understanding, the closer you are to the meaning of the text, and thus more obedient to God and His Messenger’s decrees? I doubt that the verse actually validates such an interpretation. Based on “takrîm” – the concept of human dignity introduced by the Qur’an itself – human beings, with their entire life experience, represent a vital element in our submission to God.

The basic meaning of the word Islam is “submission.” Does submission to God mean submitting the concrete experience of human history to a literal interpretation of God’s will, as revealed by the sacred text? This is a vital question which we should ask again and again, so as not to find ourselves trapped by a narrow interpretation of a few Qur’anic verses, such as verse 36 of sura al-Ahzâb, quoted above. Such “submission” entails ignoring actual human experience, in order to maintain the perceived dignity of the sacred text. I prefer to view submission in terms of human dignity, that is, in accordance with the concept of takrîm. Obedience to God’s laws does not mean having to sacrifice the reality, or validity, of our own human experience.

The appropriate way to view Islam is to observe two dimensions simultaneously, i.e., that of Islam, or submission; and that of takrîm, or honoring human dignity. However, in the popular rhetoric of the Muslim community, the dimension of “submission” and that of human “slavery” (‘ubudîyyah) are emphasized to the near exclusion of human dignity and experience. According to this view, God’s laws and decrees cannot be understood except through submission to a literal interpretation of the sacred texts. Islam is thus reduced to “worshipping the text,” or, in Huxley’s term which I quoted at the beginning of this article – “bibliolatry.”

Like it or not, all religious communities which are based upon sacred scripture, or a codified Holy Book, have this tendency to position the text as supreme, to the point of negating the reality of human life, which is constantly changing. If one wishes to use a phrase which is a bit chilling, the “textual regime” will always be a shadow which haunts a scripture-oriented society, or –  in the words of the Qur’an – the people of the book.  The social phenomena that we have witnessed in recent years – which are called fundamentalism – in fact represent the modern manifestation of a tendency long harbored by the various religions that possess a codified Holy Book, namely, to exalt the written text above concrete human experience. The most basic element of religious fundamentalism (including Islamic fundamentalism) is a desire to fortify and exalt the text. The text is perceived to be constantly urging believers to return to its sheltering embrace, since this is where and how they will meet God. That is why the call for a return to the text (in the well-known phrase: ruju’ ilal kitab was sunnah), exerts a tremendous gravitational pull on Muslims. It is not surprising that the Qur’an and Sunnah are so important to the Muslim community at large.

Of course, this textual gravity was born not merely of the ultra-Theocentric concept discussed above.  Socio-political factors have also been at work, underlying these phenomena.  According to Professor Zaid, the central supremacy of the text cannot be divorced from its political context within Islamic history. As we know, the maturation process of the various Islamic schools of interpretation occurred during the 3^rd to 4^th centuries of the Islamic era. This phase is called the taqnîn period, when the various schools of interpretation (madzhab) were codified in Islamic tasyri’ history.  It was precisely during this period that the threat of political disintegration had begun to appear. The authority of the Abbasid dynasty in Baghdad was threatened by the emergence of “duwailah,” or small kingdoms in the Islamic emporium. A feeling of insecurity began to appear. At such a time, the Muslim community felt a need for safety, and one mechanism to achieve a feeling of security was for the ulema to invoke the authority of the text as an absolute guide.³ This heritage remains with us to the present day in the form of exalting a uniform loyalty to the text, due to the fear of chaos and social disintegration that threaten to engulf the Muslim community, should conflicting interpretations erupt. [Ed. note: this is precisely the situation provoked by the contemporary emergence of Islamist extremism throughout the Muslim world, financed by Wahhabi petrodollars.]

The word “fitnah,” which means social disorder, is a ghost which haunts Muslim social history. Invoking the supremacy of the text is an attempt to compensate for (‘amalîyyah ta’widlîyyah, in Professor Zaid’s terms) and preclude the possibility of social disorder. Roxanne L. Euben explained the emergence of modern fundamentalism in a similar way, in her book “Enemy in the Mirror.” In modern fundamentalism, the “discourse of authenticity” is very strong and conspicuous.  And of course, such authenticity is measured primarily on the basis of one’s fealty to a literal reading of the Holy Scriptures’ text.  This discourse of authenticity based upon a literal reading of the text arises, in Euben’s view, from the Muslim community’s feeling of deep anxiety in the face of Western hegemony, which is perceived to “wound their dignity.”⁴ The effort to overcome this anxiety leads many Muslims seek recourse in something firm and definite.  The text becomes a fortress of sorts, offering shelter from these deep feelings of anxiety. In short, in times of crisis the Muslim community seeks to grab hold of something firm and unchanging, in order to avoid social disintegration, or “fitna.” This in turn often provokes calls to return to once again to a firm grasp upon the literal text. In the view of a 19^th century Muslim intellectual writing at the time of the Ottoman caliphate – Muhammad Syakib Arsalan – progress in the West occurred because Westerners left their Holy Book behind; but in contrast, the progress of the Muslim community depends on upholding the Qur’an. The sacred text, in Arsalan’s opinion, offers the solution to the Muslim community’s many problems.

However, my question is this: Why does the text attract Muslims’ attention so easily, and why, in the midst of an identity crisis, is the text always “called upon” to safeguard Muslims from the threat of disorder? This could never have occurred if the text itself had not assumed a central position in the Muslim community’s religious world view. To use Professor Zaid’s terminology, the Qur’an and Sunnah, as written texts, have become an “axial concept” (mafhum mihwary) which is so significant that the Muslim community reverts to it, again and again. If there is no effort to deconstruct the theological concepts which placed the text in that central position, the Satanic circle of misguided religious understanding which is “alkitabiah,” or rigidly scripturalistic, cannot be overcome. Bibliolatry will continually appear and reappear an inescapable threat. The danger posed by bibliolatry is the “loss of the human dimension” (ghayabul insân, in the words of Hassan Hanafi) within the religious sphere. Human experience will be regarded as trifling and insignificant. Human beings themselves will not be valued, either individually or as a social collective rich in historically-concrete experiences.

At least two fundamental assumptions underlie rigidly textualistic Islamic views:

The first assumption is that the text is transparent. Any reader can penetrate it without difficulty and fully grasp its contents without the slightest obstacle. This explains why popular Islamic rhetoric is always disseminated through Qur’anic verses and prophetic traditions.  These two sources are picked up as if there were no obstacle whatsoever to properly understanding them; as if verses transmitted by seventh century friends of the Prophet can be grasped and readily understood today, without any difficulties caused by a significant “epistemological distance.”

Yet of course an “epistemological distance” does exist, because the context in which such verses were written is certainly far different from our context today. This first assumption must be rejected for a very simple reason: every text contains many stratified layers of interpretation. In addition, the text cannot speak by itself to the society which receives it. The Qur’an, for example, cannot speak in the name of God without an “interpretative society” (ahl al-ta’wîl as the balance of ahl al-kitâb) who make the Holy Book talk to them. “Innamâ yunthiquhu al-rijâl,” in the words of Sayyidina Ali; in reality, it is men who give voice to the Qur’an (and of course the word rijâl, or men, is very gender biased, as though only men are capable of “voicing” the Qur’an, while women can only keep silent and passively listen to the “voice” of those men).

That is, a religious text cannot exist in a meaningful way for human beings without an agent or intermediary. I have a hypothesis: the further removed we are in time, the more agency we require to link us – who live in the 21^st century – with the Qur’anic text, which arose in the context of 7^th century Arab society. That is, the further removed we are from the text, the longer our medium or “bridge” must be.  That is why we must recognize the simple reality, that we can never have a precise knowledge of Arab society at the time of the Prophet’s revelation, of the Qur’an’s situation and context, of the social relationships that existed at the time, etc. We can only imagine and speculate, in reconstructing the revelatory phenomenon which occurred at that time.  Knowledge of the context of the revelation is an absolute requirement for understanding any given verse.

The second assumption is that the so-called Qur’an consists only of verses contained in the mushaf (i.e., the written text). We cannot accept this assumption, either. To suppose that the Qur’an is no more than the written text appearing in the mushaf, is to assume that it’s just a dead text. To quote Professor Zaid once again, the revelatory process is “amalîyyat ittishâl,” a communication process which presupposes the presence of two parties: one who sends the message (God) and one who receives it (the Prophet Muhammad). Since the Prophet was not isolated from an historical context, but rather a human being who lived in an actual community of “meaning,” the revelation consists not merely of thousands of lines of dead text, but is, rather, a living text that appeared in an actual context.   

In this regard, I would like to address a concept regarding “the living revelation,” that is, the revelation which consists simultaneously of the text and its context. The text we read in the Qur’an is part of a revelation which must be completed, by understanding the concrete context in which it was delivered. Professor Arkoun has written a good analysis regarding this. He has proposed the technical term “tajribat al-Madînah,” or the Medina experience. The revelation received by the Prophet Muhammad occurred within a context of concrete experiences.

We also should not regard the Prophet as simply an individual, since he was, in fact, part of a real community. While the Qur’an itself was eventually formalized and codified in “mushaf,” or sheets of paper, the context in which the revelation occurred remained unwritten. The process of writing the Qur’an, in and of itself, reduced the Qur’an to a dead text. Islamic movements which struggle to persuade the Muslim community to return to the “text” are completely unaware that they are in fact inviting the Muslim community to refer to a revelatory document which has been stripped of its context by the passing of time. Hence the difficulty in accepting the “naïve” interpretation of a verse that is often quoted by scriptural literalists (QS 4:59): “fa in tanaza’tum fi syai’in farudduhu ila ‘l-Lâhi wa rasûlih.” “Should you disagree about anything, refer it to God and His Messenger.” If one approaches the Qur’an in a state of unpolished naïveté, this can easily entrap one in the simplistic conviction that returning to the Qur’anic text is what is meant by the verse.

For me, the main question is: how can we possibly return to the text, when we have inherited only the written document of the Qur’an, without any detailed record of its context? In fact, if we wish to be honest, there is no Holy Book in the entire world which is both codified and simultaneously accompanied by a detailed context. Thus Sayyedina Ali is right when she says that the Qur’an is a dead text (since it is codified without an accompanying document that provides its context), and it is only people who make it live and “speak.”

In other words, interpretive “mediation” is necessary. This is precisely the point of an “interpretive community.” One thing usually forgotten by the advocates of returning to the text of the Holy Book, is that the Qur’an itself was, from the very first minute of its appearance in human history, presented to an interpretive community. The Prophet’s companions, and even the Prophet himself, did not passively accept the revelation, but constituted an active society which interpreted the revelation itself. Az Zarkasy, in his book Al Burhân fi Ulûm al-Qur’ân, writes that the Qur’an appeared to the Prophet as a bunch of concepts, while the “wording” and forming of those concepts into actual sentences was performed by the Prophet himself, acting in the context of Mecca and Medina’s society.⁵ (According to a different opinion, it was the archangel Gabriel who “clothed” the revelatory concepts.)

If we pursue this idea further: according to Fazlur Rahman, Umar [the Prophet’s companion and founder of the Ummayyid dynasty, which codified the Qur’anic revelation] might be called a “co-author” who also “created” the Qur’an, since many Qur’anic verses confirm Umar’s views and reject the Prophet’s decisions.⁶ I would like to go further by stating that in fact all the companions and the entire Medina community were, indirectly, “co-authors” of the Qur’an. In this sense we can understand Muhammad Arkoun’s concept of the “Medina experience” as a struggle between revelation and the society that received it, in which both sides interacted with one another. This experience was a participatory process, in which the society of the companions was actively involved in “an act of co-authorship,” in “creating” and elucidating the Qur’an.

The notion of “mediation” or agency between ourselves and the Holy Book refutes the view that the Qur’an is a transparent text, which is accessible and clearly intelligible to anyone, without their needing to possess sufficient knowledge regarding the context in which the verses originated. The notion of “mediation” also refutes the claim that the text is adequate in and of itself. The Qur’anic text is not a “self-sufficient” thing. Why not? Because the Qur’anic text is, in fact, closely bound to other texts. That is, the Qur’an is inter-textual by nature. Among the various texts which surround the Qur’an are the social history of Arab society, with its rich and highly developed literary traditions; the political context and power relations that existed at the time of the revelation; the beliefs and religious traditions of the time, and so on.

To summarize briefly: the fundamental problem in current Islamic thought is the existence of a dominant view which regards the text as “supreme,” with the result that interpretation of the text often conflicts with and denies reality, and concrete human experience. The effect is to alienate Muslims from their own life experience. A more balanced approach to textual interpretation is necessary, in which the text or revelation lives in a real context, with society actively involved in elucidating the text. Human experience and revelation presuppose one another, and cannot be separated. In other words, revelation and human experience (including thought) should have an equal position and “epistemological” status in the interpretation of sacred text.

If we follow the classic hierarchy in Islam regarding the sources of law, there are four: the Qur’an, Sunnah (prophetic traditions), Ijma’ (consensus of legal scholars) and Qiyas/Ijtihad (analogical reasoning/interpretation). In light of the interpretative concept described above, I would argue that there are only two sources: revelation and human experience. Sunnah, Ijma’ and Qiyas all reflect the experiences of human society (Medina) in its struggle with the revelation. Both sources occupy an equal position. In accordance with the Qur’anic concept of “takreem,” or human dignity, it is natural that we should regard the historical experience of society as a source equal to the revelation itself. What I mean by the term “experience” is the situational development of life in each and every human society. In other words: I do not regard the revelation as a “text” completely divorced from human life – which is constantly developing – but rather as an understanding that implicitly exists within our contemporary society.

Revelation is generally regarded as “external” to human reality, and therefore “above” or superior to it. If the reality of life contradicts or diverges from the revelation, the “solution” is said to be clear: bring reality back into line with the revelation itself. Because, to quote our “million Muslim” preacher, Zainuddin MZ, the Qur’an is our “imam” (leader), while we are “makmum” (its followers). I believe just the opposite: that revelation, human experience and the reality of life should work together in a dialectical manner, to formulate the truths of religious teaching.

II.  A “New” Reading of the Qur’an: Go Beyond the Text

After our long “journey” exploring the mutually dependent relationship between revelation and human experience of life’s reality, the question arises: what is our attitude towards the Qur’anic text? Should we strictly obey the literal meaning of each and every verse, or may we abandon it, whenever adherence to a literal interpretation can no longer be justified? What is the appropriate standard?

One classic principle which has become a guiding rule in the process of reasoning is lâ ijtihâda fi muqâbalatin nash; it is not permissible to engage in interpretation or independent reasoning in areas where the text itself has already clearly stated the nature of the law. In such cases one speaks of a definite and fixed stipulation, or qath’i. Professor Ibrahim Hosen has expressed his view on this subject. In his opinion, Qur’anic stipulations which can be identified as qath’i (positive and fixed) are extremely limited, and it is difficult to fulfill the requirements necessary to achieve that status. He pointed out, for instance, that such stipulations must “deny any and all genuine possibilities. For example, the text does not contain the possibility of ihtimal majaz, kinayah, idlmar, takhshish, taqdim and ta’khir, naskh, or ta’arudl ‘aqly.”⁷

This view is less prominent among the majority of ulama (religious scholars), particularly as this view requires that a qath’i text not have logical contradictions (ta’arudl qath’i). I consider Professor Hosen’s view to be courageous and progressive. Using this standard, we could easily interpret various Qur’anic verses that are currently regarded as qath’i – yet contain ihtimal (multiple interpretations) – in a way that is distinct from the literal meanings commonly associated with those verses. Although they have become cliché, we often hear about the classic debates triggered by the late Munawir Sjadzali when he raised the issue of re-actualizing Islamic teachings, or by Abdurrahman Wahid (Gus Dur) through his ideas concerning the “indigenization” of Islam. One such problem concerns inheritance laws. The old scheme of division was 2:1, whereby males received twice the share of females. Munawir regarded this as an un-qath’i stipulation, even though the Qur’an is very clear on this point (QS 4:11). The ihtimal, or objection, raised by Munawir is that the stipulated 2:1 division is unfair in the context of contemporary life, where the burden of maintaining a household is undertaken equally by men and women. Justice – which is definitely one of the pillars of Islam – became the main source inspiring Munawir to reevaluate the division of inheritance.

At present, we face the central issue of strident calls for the implementation of Islamic law. Once again, we face an old issue which has yet to be resolved. What is sharî’a? Is it possible for sharî’a to serve as the foundation for managing an Islamic society in this modern age? Is sharî’a a stipulation (qath’i) which should be considered binding upon the entire Muslim community, since it is “God’s law”? I simultaneously raised a question, and offered a new answer, in the controversial article that appeared in the Indonesian newspaper Kompas in November of 2002⁸: Is there any such thing as “God’s law” (meaning “Divine law”) in the sense ascribed by the majority of modern people to the word “law”?  That is, a law which is universally valid and applicable to anyone and everyone without regard to religion, tribe, race, etc., and which can be enacted through the power of the state?

In that article I said: No such law exists! For what exists are merely “central values” that are often described as “maqâshid sharî’ah,” or the public objectives of Islamic law. Here I am trying to address the central topic of an old debate: What is qath’i and what is zhanni? Which Qur’anic verses (and also elements of the Sunnah, or Prophetic traditions) may be said to possess qath’i status, and which may not, and are thus zhanni (“ihtimal” in Professor Hosen’s terms), or negotiable based on temporal and spatial progress?

In my opinion, those two words, qath’i and zhanni, were inappropriately defined in the classic and modern traditions of ushul fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence). Qath’i means a legal argument (dalil) which does not carry dual meanings (lâ yahtamilu ma’nayain). Zhanni arguments (dalil), on the other hand, are inherently ambiguous. The qath’îy-u ‘l-dilâlah (unambiguous argument) is further subdivided into two categories: qath’îy-u ‘l-wurûd (i.e., a legal argument with an indisputably valid transmission; in the opinion of legal scholars and the entire Muslim community, the Qur’an is qath’îy-u ‘l-wurûd, while only some of the prophetic traditions are qath’îy-u ‘l-wurûd while others are zhannîy-u ‘l-wurûd) and qath’îy-u ‘l-dilâlah (i.e., a legal argument that has a definite and unambiguous conclusion).

The zhanni dalil (ambiguous argument) is also divided into two categories: zhanniy-u’l- wurûd (arguments which cannot be definitively traced back to the Prophet, and proven to have been uttered by him), and zhanniy-u’l- dilâlah (arguments which evidence dual meanings, to such an extent that we cannot be certain which is correct). The definitions of qath’i and zhanni in our legal tradition are based on the wording of the text. An argument or text is considered as qath’i whenever it is used without ambiguity. An argument will be considered as zhanni whenever it has ambiguous wording or lafadz – that is, a dual meaning. I recognize that in the final analysis, any teaching in a society that recognizes a codified Holy Book should be based on the written text contained in that Holy Book.  In this case, the theory which governs use of the “word” must play a vital role. That is why, in the classic ushul fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence) there is a long discussion known as “Bab al-Alfâz,” which is essentially a chapter about the word, or language, itself.  This is because the “word” serves as the most basic foundation of the law’s reckoning, since the law itself is based upon a codified Holy Book. And yet it is precisely here that I intend to advance another view: namely, the urgent necessity of us undertaking a “paradigm shift,” or a reversal of paradigms.

In my opinion, the theory concerning qath’i and zhanni can no longer be regarded as merely a theory concerning the “word.” Rather, it must become be a theory regarding values. Discourse concerning values has not been seriously developed by Muslim scholars, either classic or modern. The foremost intellectual energy of the Muslim community has been devoted to fiqh – Islamic jurisprudence centered upon the “text.” To quote Professor Zaid once again: Islamic thought is indeed a tradition which revolves around the “text,” that is, around the Qur’an and Sunnah.

A number of modern Muslim intellectuals have begun offering alternatives to the old paradigm of qath’i and zhanni. Fazlur Rahman, for instance – in Major Themes in the Qur’an – has attempted to initiate a new tradition by excavating what he calls ethical-religious concepts, that is, Qur’anic concepts that form the basis of the “Islamic worldview.” In his seminal book, Toward an Islamic Reformation, Abdullah Ahmed Al-Na’im followed the example of his teacher, Mahmud Muhammad Taha, which was to reformulate the definition of qath’i and zhanni. Al-Na’im divided the Qur’anic verses in the same way classic religious scholars had, but with new meanings derived from the Mecca and Medina verses [those composed during the time Muhammad resided either in Mecca, or Medina].

The Mecca verses are more relevant to an effort to formulate a new Islamic value hierarchy, since they refer to universal ethical concepts, whereas the Medina verses are concerned with the interpretation of those ethical concepts within the specific context of Medina’s social and political community. Thus it might be said that the universality of the Mecca verses is greater than that of the Medina verses. The qath’i verses, therefore, are verses which descended in Mecca, while the zhanni verses were revealed in Medina.

Masdar F. Mas’udi, in Agama Keadilan (The Religion of Justice), attempted to review both concepts, qath’i and zhanni. Masdar regarded as qath’îyah verses those which contain universal ethical values that do not alter due to temporal and spatial progress. Zhanîyah verses, on the other hand, concern the interpretation of those universal ethical values in a specific time and place, or context.⁹

I believe that the “building blocks” of critical thought which have been initiated by modern Moslem intellectuals are already sufficient to support all of us in evaluating our methods of “reading” the verses of the Qur’an or Sunnah. As I have previously indicated, the Holy Book’s text is not easily penetrable and transparent. Since a long historical and epistemological gap separates us from the text, we need considerable “rational ware” if we hope to cross that yawning gap. This is what I refer to as “rational mediation.” In the previous section of this article, I argued that revelation and concrete human experience in daily life should occupy positions of equality, since the revelation cannot “speak” without a context. The written revelation is – and this is no academic term – an “explicit revelation,” whereas the context that enveloped the revelation’s descent… the context in which humanity with all its experiences grappled with the revelation… may be said to constitute – and this, too, is no academic term – an “implicit revelation.” To use more popular language, we may employ the terminology: qaulîyyah verses and kaunîyyah verses. I have previously used the terms “verbal revelation” and “non-verbal revelation.” Each presupposes and requires the other.

Based on this, I would like to introduce a new perspective on reading the Qur’an. It is, in fact, not really “new” at all, since precedents pointing in this direction may be discovered in the writings of many earlier Muslim scholars. I only attempt to formulate the question differently, within the context of new challenges we face today. We must develop a radical new perspective, in order to transform the view that is currently so dominant among members of the Muslim community, and which may be termed “bibliolatristic.” We must restore Muslims’ awareness concerning that which the fiqh tradition describes as “hikmatut tasyri’,” or the philosophy behind legal legislation. In other words, we must persistently and vocally address the ethical aspects of Islamic teaching, in order to compete with modern fundamentalist tendencies, which seek to reduce Islam to a “political ideology,” or a group of teachings which “must” be followed because God “says so.” Theories elaborating Islam’s ethical vision and values must be addressed more explicitly instead.

The proposed new method of reading the Qur’an is not based on the old assumption that all stipulations that are explicitly stated in the Qur’an (or Sunnah) are binding, permanent and valid in every time and place. That, in my opinion, is a “bibliolatristic” method of reading the Qur’an – a reading which limits itself to the text only. For example, three verses of sura al-Mâ’îdah (QS 5:44-47) which are often used to promote “bibliolatry” – that whoever does not follow God’s law is a cruel and atheistic infidel – should not be read in a literal, textualistic framework. We should read the Qur’an in light of ethical concepts derived from the Qur’an itself. Fazlur Rahman pioneered an ijtihad, or form of interpretation, that is highly useful in this regard. Nevertheless, the new reading of the Qur’an should also be founded upon the premise that the context of concrete human life also represents a formative and constitutive element of Qur’anic revelation. The Muslim community’s experience in the period which Abdullahi A. al-Naim refers to as the “post-colonial period” must also be seriously considered. The “complacent” reading of the Qur’an that is generally considered valid ignores the context of recent times – for example, the experience of modern colonialism; the nation-state; the introduction of western law; global economic integration; the development of democratic systems as the newly dominant form of “polity” throughout the world, and so on. A “revivalistic” and “bibliolatristic” approach to reading the Qur’an assumes that Muslims can easily return to the Prophet’s age, as if they had not endured a significant discontinuity following the past century of industrialism and widespread modern development. All of these constitute the realities of Muslim life, which must be taken into account when reading the Qur’an.

In conclusion, positing the Qur’an as a text that is isolated from surrounding realities, and on that basis concluding that certain teachings are binding and permanent, merely due to their literal presence in the Qur’an, is no longer acceptable. Such an outlook can and should be rejected. In this context, the words of Imam Ghazali quoted in this chapter’s preamble may be relevant. The secret of the Qur’an is an invitation for God’s servants to return to Him. This sentence can exert a radical effect upon the Muslim community if we interpret it as: the secret of the Qur’an does not consist of inviting God’s servants to return to the Qur’anic text itself, but rather, to reunite themselves with the “transcendental essence” that lies behind that text.

Unfortunately, the situation we face today is completely different: the Muslim community  seeks to return to the Qur’an and the Sunnah, to the literal scriptures, and not to the ethical vision which underlies those texts. Because the text itself has become the main pillar in the dominant religious view, those who wish to reform Islamic thought are continually bombarded by a single question that is repeated over and over again: is your view in accordance with the Qur’an and the Sunnah, or not? Where is the dalil (argument based on religious text)? Those questions are fundamentally weak and flawed, because they seek to measure harmony with the Qur’an and Sunnah purely on the basis of the written text. The fact that the Qur’anic revelation, from its very beginning, was a text whose meaning was closely intertwined with the community of companions who received it – and that this textual revelation is merely “half” of the real and complete Qur’anic revelation (the rest being an “implicit revelation,” in the form of social context) – is completely neglected in such discussions. We must be bold to look “beyond” the text, by focusing upon the Qur’an’s universal ethical vision, and the social milieu of the Muslim community, which is constantly changing. “Go beyond the text,” that is the challenge.

In reality, Islam’s ethical vision has already been formulated by classical Islamic jurists, and described as “al-kullîyat-u ‘l-khamsah” (the five main pillars) or “al-kullîyat-u ‘l-kubrâ” (the great pillars). That vision is conceived and expressed as the protection of (1) reason, (2) religion, (3) spirit, (4) wealth, and (5) honor and family. Qur’anic verses should be read in light of this universal ethical vision, on the one hand, while meshed with contemporary Muslim experience on the other.

With the exception of verses related to pure ritual such as prayers, fasting and pilgrimage, and provisions regarding food and beverages, all “âyât-u ‘l-ahkâm,” or legal verses which were revealed at Medina, should be regarded as temporary, contextual and limited in their validity to the social experience of the Arab nation in the 7^th century. These verses include stipulations regarding inheritance, marriage, the position of women, veiling, criminal punishment, whipping and the amputation of hands, to mention but a few.

There is no more fatal error than the perspective which views the Qur’an as a book whose provisions are all permanent, universal and eternal. The continually-advanced claim that the Qur’an is “shâlih-un likulli zamân-in wa makân,” i.e., appropriate and relevant for all times and places, and that the Qur’an is a perfect book whose words contain the solution every problem (i.e., the widespread view of the Qur’an as a panacea – a concept which is easily used to deceive the average Muslim) must be considered anew.

Such jargon is full of political content, and used by various Islamist parties and groups as a political “gel” to consolidate support for themselves and defeat to opposing parties and groups.  In other words, such jargon is used to achieve their own narrow objectives through the practice of cheap politics, rather than constituting any true theological doctrine.¹⁰ The Qur’an does indeed contain some teachings which are permanent, and others that are temporary and contextual.

It is a serious error to assume that Islam teaches everything in the Qur’an is permanent by nature, or that literal stipulations found in the Qur’an are invariably binding and universal. Such an interpretation is a form of “bibliolatry,” which should be rejected. We must abandon bibliolatry, transcend the text and recapture the Qur’an’s ethical vision, establishing it in the context of the Muslim community’s actual experiences in this modern age, in which virtually no aspect of life can still be measured in the simplistic manner of the Medina paradigm.  We need to invest humanity once again with the stature which the Qur’an itself bestows upon mankind, and reconcile humanity with its role as a partner in the divine revelation.

¹ From a speech delivered at Paramadina Foundation in Jakarta, Indonesia, on February 8^th, 2003. The word “bibliolatry” literally means “worshipping the Bible.” In its common usage, this word means to over-glorify any Scripture to the point of virtually worshipping its content. In this article, I use the word bibliolatry as a synonym (which provides further and deeper illumination of meaning) for the word “scripturalism.”

² Nasr Hamid Abu Zaid, Mafhûm al-Nash: Dirasât fi ‘Ulûm al-Qur’an (Cairo: Al Hai’ah al Mishriyyah al ‘Ammah lil Kitab, 1993) p. 11.

³ Ibid, p. 12.

⁴ Roxanne L. Euben, Enemy in the mirror: Islamic Fundamentalism and the Limits of Modern Rationalism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999).

⁵ Badruddin Muhammad bin Abdullah Az Zarkasyi, Al Burhân fi ‘Ulûm al-Qur’an (Beirut: Darul Ma’rifah, 1972) vol. I, p. 17.

⁶ When members of the Badar tribe were captured in war, Umar felt they should be executed, while Abu Bakr argued that they should be released upon payment of ransom.  The Prophet backed Abu Bakr’s position. The verse which later descended to appear in sura al-Anfâl thus faults the Prophet’s decision, and supports Umar (QS 8:67-68).

⁷ Ibrahim Hosen, “Beberapa Catatan Tentang Reaktualisasi Hukum Islam,” dalam Reaktualisasi Ajaran Islam : 70 Tahun Prof. Dr. H. Munawwir Syadzali, MA (Jakarta: IPHI & Paramadina, 1995), pp. 251-284.

⁸ Ulil Abshar-Abdalla, “Menyegarkan Kembali Pemahaman Islam,” Kompas, 18 November, 2002.

⁹ A critical survey concerning the difficulties of implementing Islamic law in a modern context, especially with regard to family law, may be found in “Shari’a and Islamic Family Law: Transition and Transformation” in Abdullahi A. al-Naim’s book, Islamic Family Law in a Changing World: a Global Resource Book (London: Z Books, 2002) pp. 1-36.

¹⁰ Asghar ali Engineer wrote a short article that was recently published in the serial newsletter Secular Perspective under title “Islam and Secularism.” The article was largely unpublicized, and spread via the internet to various readers. In it, Asghar emphasized the urgent need to distinguish between the “political” and the “theological.” Mixing the two will only profit demagogues and narrow-minded politicians.

 

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