Who Is Free from Disbelief (Kufr)?
A position for an imam became vacant at a mosque here in England, so the mosque trustees engaged one of our friends to serve. For some time he led the prayers, taught the children, and delivered talks. When the mosque’s governing council became satisfied with his abilities, they asked him to submit an application for the post. He did so, and we were all pleased at the prospect that this mosque would appoint an imam who would work to bring Muslim groups and communities closer together rather than spread hatred.
The mosque committee invited him for an interview. After asking various questions, they handed him a document and asked him to sign it. When he read what was written, the ground seemed to fall away beneath his feet. The document stated:
“Rashid Ahmad Gangohi and Ashraf Ali Thanwi are disbelievers.”
He replied, “I do not declare any Muslim to be a disbeliever,” and refused to sign it. As a result, he was deemed unsuitable, and our hopes were shattered just as they seemed about to be fulfilled.
In India and England, we have met many people: some call the Deobandis disbelievers, some call the Barelwis disbelievers; some regard the Ahl al-Hadith and Salafis as misguided, while others portray the Sufis as the very foundation of deviation and foolishness. Many consider the Ashʿaris and Maturidis misguided, and some treat Jamaat-e-Islami as a separate sect. In short, almost every Muslim group has been branded with disbelief or misguidance by other Muslims.
When we examined the history of Muslim societies, we found a strikingly similar picture. In late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century India, the market of takfir (declaring others unbelievers) was thriving. Mawlana Muhammad Ismail Shahid was openly declared a disbeliever, and this practice continues to this day. People insisted on declaring Sir Syed Ahmad Khan a disbeliever. Mawlana Qasim Nanotwi and Mawlana Gangohi repeatedly faced fatwas of disbelief. Allama Shibli Nuʿmani and Mawlana Farahi were not spared either. Even earlier than all of them, Imam Abu Hanifah was accused of rejecting hadith. Some claimed that he knew only seventeen hadiths. Worse still, some individuals described him as more ill-fated than Iblis.
The tradition of takfir, tafsiq (declaring others sinful), and tadlil (declaring others misguided) in the Indian subcontinent has very deep roots. The result is that institutions, seminaries, movements, and organisations all regard criticising and condemning one another as one of the greatest religious duties.
The outcome of this unfortunate endeavour is that all Muslims end up being disbelievers. If that description seems too harsh, one may soften it by saying that every member of the Muslim Ummah is thought to possess some sign of disbelief. For declaring someone a disbeliever is an extremely serious matter. Unless there is definitive proof, no one may be declared a disbeliever. Clearly, those who ventured into takfir were respected scholars and muftis. If they issued such rulings, they must have believed they possessed conclusive evidence.
Some scholars and ordinary Muslims have remained distant from this campaign of takfir. One might therefore expect them to be exempt from disbelief. However, there is also a “solid proof” for their disbelief: some scholars have explicitly stated that whoever does not regard a disbeliever as a disbeliever is himself a disbeliever. Thus the ruling becomes universal, leaving no room for exceptions.
Someone may suggest that perhaps these scholars were hasty or mistaken in their takfir. Firstly, such a possibility is not normally entertained regarding matters deemed definitive. Had there been even the slightest doubt, they would not have declared anyone a disbeliever. Scholars often cite the principle that if a person possesses ninety-nine indications of disbelief and one indication of Islam, he should not be declared a disbeliever.
Secondly, even if we assume for the sake of argument that they erred in takfir, it would make no difference. For a hadith in Sahih al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim states that when one person calls another a disbeliever, one of the two bears that description: either the one accused, or the one making the accusation. According to this hadith, everyone becomes a disbeliever. If those accused were not disbelievers, then those who accused them became so. Since each group has accused the other, everyone ends up condemned.
The question then arises: if disbelief is the gravest of sins, why do all these people not repent from their own disbelief?
This is a powerful objection, and it troubled us for a long time as well. Eventually, the following answer occurred to us. When a person cleans himself after relieving himself, he touches and washes away his own filth. But if asked to touch someone else’s filth, he would feel disgusted and would exert every effort to declare it impure. He would produce hundreds of arguments about its foulness and impurity, even though the same arguments apply equally to his own filth. Yet he remains determined to regard his own impurity as minor and excusable.
Likewise, our own disbelief seems easy for us to excuse. We find interpretations and justifications for it. But the disbelief of others appears ugly and repulsive, and we see it as destructive to religion, faith, creed, and Islam from every angle.
To die in a state of disbelief is an extremely dangerous matter and may render a person deserving of eternal punishment. How then can one be saved from such disbelief?
The answer is that those who desire a good ending and seek Allah’s forgiveness and mercy must interpret the alleged disbelief of others in the best possible light, overlook it, and focus all their attention on their own shortcomings. They should not be lenient with themselves. They should not make excuses for their own sins. Rather, they should repent sincerely and remain fearful until death, uncertain whether their repentance has been accepted. It is hoped that Allah will forgive such people and elevate their ranks.
This is the attitude transmitted from the early generations (al-salaf). They blamed themselves and maintained a good opinion of others. In the Book of Faith of Sahih al-Bukhari, Imam al-Bukhari narrates the statement of Hasan al-Basri:
“No one fears hypocrisy except a believer, and no one feels secure from hypocrisy except a hypocrite.”
He also narrates from Ibn Abi Mulaykah:
“I met thirty Companions of the Messenger of Allah, and all of them feared hypocrisy for themselves.”
Even a Companion of the stature of ʿUmar ibn al-Khattab (may Allah be pleased with him) feared that hypocrisy might be within him. It is also reported from him that:
“If a caller from heaven announced that only one person would enter Hell, I would fear that I might be that person.”
Hasan al-Basri was once asked why he wept so much. He replied:
“I fear that tomorrow I may be cast into Hell.”
Imam al-Dhahabi narrates in Siyar Aʿlam al-Nubalaʾ the statement of Bakr al-Muzani:
“If I were not present at ʿArafat, I would say that everyone had been forgiven.”
Meaning that, out of the intensity of his fear, he did not consider himself worthy of forgiveness.
If one were to gather the reports and sayings of the early generations on this subject, an entire volume could be produced. The essence of all these accounts is that the righteous predecessors maintained a good opinion of ordinary Muslims while fearing hypocrisy and disbelief for themselves. This is the Prophetic way that needs reviving.
We should think well of Muslims and hold ourselves accountable. May Allah grant us insight into our own sins, make us concerned with correcting ourselves, grant us sincere repentance and turning back to Him, and make us sincere well-wishers for all Muslims. Āmīn. والله أعلم.
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