ابو يقين

DON'T THINK I'M PIOUS BECAUSE OF MY POSTS. I May Sin More Than You Do. May ALLAH Forgive Us. My All Posts Are Reminder For Myself Before Anyone Else. May Allah forgive us for the sins we commit in private and public.

Shaykh Ahmed Yare has just finished teaching the Kutub al-Sittah, a journey of about 18 years and more than 2,000 sessions. In a short booklet released today, the Shaykh lists when he began each of the six books and how many sessions each one took. He also describes the رسائل he wrote along the way on issues that came up while teaching them. This is a tremendous milestone, and the Shaykh’s dedication truly deserves praise. May Allah عز وجل bless the Shaykh, grant him a long life, and allow him to keep teaching and benefiting the Ummah.

We live in a time when everyone wants to debate, argue, refute, and have the last word. People spend hours arguing over religious matters, yet how much of that knowledge has actually changed their hearts and actions? Ibn Rajab رحمه الله mentions in Faḍl ʿIlm al-Salaf that some of the Salaf said: “If Allah intends good for a servant, He opens for him the door of action and closes for him the door of argumentation. And if Allah intends evil for a servant, He closes for him the door of action and opens for him the door of argumentation.” What a frightening statement. A person may become occupied with defending the truth while neglecting to act upon it. He knows how to refute others, but has forgotten how to hold himself accountable. The purpose of seeking knowledge is not to become victorious in every argument, but to become a better servant of Allah. So ask yourself: Has your knowledge increased your worship, humility, and fear of Allah, or has it only increased your arguments?

No, I understand your stance perfectly well, and I understand how you guys apply it. My disagreement is with making tawqquf the general rule simply because you don’t personally know someone’s condition. There’s a difference between giving someone a tazkiyah and making a general judgment about an ordinary Muslim. When you give someone a tazkiyah, you obviously need to know his condition, because people may take knowledge from him and follow him. But when it comes to the general awam, we have principles and qara’in (outward indications) that we take into consideration. For example, where does this person live? What kind of environment did he grow up in? What is the predominant i’tiqad of the people in his area? Take an ordinary Muslim who grew up in a place where the creed of Ahl al-Sunnah is widespread. Based on these circumstances, we may reasonably assume he’s upon that creed unless something contrary becomes apparent. That doesn’t mean we’re giving him a specific tazkiyah. So I’m not saying we can never make tawqquf. Of course, if there aren’t enough indications, we withhold judgment. My issue is with making tawqquf a general rule for everyone you don’t personally know, as though the zahir and the qara’in have no weight in determining someone’s condition.

Ibn Khaldūn رحمه الله explained something interesting about how civilizations rise and eventually decline, and much of what he said can still be seen in the world today. He explains that nations are initially established through العصبية (group solidarity), where people are united by hardship, courage, discipline, and a willingness to sacrifice for one another. «فإنّ الغلب الّذي يكون به الملك إنّما هو بالعصبيّة وبما يتبعها من شدّة البأس» Political authority is established through group solidarity and the strength that comes with it. But once a nation becomes powerful, wealth and luxury follow. People begin enjoying comforts their predecessors never had. Interestingly, Ibn Khaldūn doesn’t say luxury immediately weakens a nation. Rather, he says: «الترف يزيد الدولة في أولها قوة إلى قوتها» “Luxury initially adds strength to the strength of a dynasty.” Wealth allows the population to grow, armies to expand, and cities and industries to develop. However, over time, the generations begin to change. Those who established the nation experienced hardship, while their descendants grow up surrounded by comfort. He mentions five stages that dynasties generally pass through: طور الظفر — Conquest and the establishment of power. طور الاستبداد — The concentration of authority in the ruler’s hands. طور الفراغ والدعة — Prosperity, wealth, and development. طور القنوع والمسالمة — Contentment and reliance upon what previous generations established. طور الإسراف والتبذير — Extravagance, corruption, and eventual decline. Now compare this to modern civilization. Many nations today have advanced technology, enormous wealth, beautiful cities, and comforts that previous generations could never have imagined. Yet having all these things doesn’t necessarily mean a society is stronger in every respect. A nation can become wealthier while its people become less united, its leadership more corrupt, and its institutions weaker. This is one of the interesting points Ibn Khaldūn makes: the very prosperity that initially strengthens a state can eventually contribute to its weakness when accompanied by the loss of solidarity and responsible leadership. He says concerning the ruler in the final stage: «فيكون مخرّبا لما كان سلفه يؤسّسون وهادما لما كانوا يبنون» “He destroys what his predecessors established and demolishes what they built.” And this is worth reflecting upon. A generation can inherit everything its predecessors struggled to establish, yet gradually destroy it through mismanagement, extravagance, and corruption. Of course, this doesn’t mean every wealthy nation is destined to collapse or that technological advancement is something bad. Rather, wealth and material progress alone do not guarantee that a civilization will remain strong. Ibn Khaldūn concludes: «فاعتبره وتفهّمه وتأمّله تجده صحيحا في العمران» “Consider this, understand it, and reflect upon it. You will find it true in human civilization.” سبحان الله، how many nations and dynasties have risen to power, reached extraordinary heights, and eventually disappeared? «وَاللهُ وَارِثُ الْأَرْضِ وَمَنْ عَلَيْهَا وَهُوَ خَيْرُ الْوَارِثِينَ» Al-Muqaddimah — Ibn Khaldūn رحمه الله

You are taking the statement of Imam al-Barbahārī رحمه الله out of its proper context. When he says that a person should not be called a Ṣāḥib Sunnah until the characteristics of the Sunnah are known in him, he is discussing the conditions for giving someone that positive description. Shaykh Ṣāliḥ al-Fawzān حفظه الله explains this very statement by saying: «لا تزكي الشخص وتمدحه إلا عن علم». “Do not recommend or praise someone except upon knowledge.” So the discussion concerns tazkiyah, not establishing that every ordinary Muslim must prove his Salafi identity before being treated as free from innovation. Al-Barbahārī himself said: «والمستور من المسلمين من لم تظهر له ريبة». “The Muslim whose condition is concealed is one from whom nothing suspicious has appeared.” These two statements do not contradict each other. There is a difference between not having enough knowledge to recommend someone as a firmly established person of Sunnah and having evidence that he is an innovator. The absence of a tazkiyah is not proof of bidʿah, and ignorance of someone’s detailed beliefs does not justify treating him with suspicion. We should understand the statements of the Salaf together, rather than using one statement to establish a principle that the author himself did not explicitly state.

The statements of the Salaf about testing people by certain scholars must be understood in their proper context. Some of the Salaf would test people by particular scholars during times of fitnah, especially in places where innovation was widespread. A person’s attitude toward a scholar could sometimes indicate whether he followed the Sunnah or opposed it. For example, Sufyān al-Thawrī رحمه الله said: “Test the people of Mosul by Muʿāfā ibn ʿImrān.” Notice that he specifically mentioned the people of Mosul. He did not make this a general rule for every Muslim in every time and place. Testing people by the names of scholars is not one of the foundations of Ahl al-Sunnah. Rather, it may be allowed when there is a genuine need, depending on the time, place, and circumstances. However, making a particular scholar the standard of loyalty, testing ordinary Muslims by their opinions of him, and then declaring them innovators or boycotting them simply because they disagree is blameworthy. Ibn Taymiyyah رحمه الله explained that no individual other than the Prophet ﷺ should be made a standard upon which loyalty and opposition are based. We should not take specific actions of the Salaf during times of fitnah and turn them into general rules that apply to everyone. The circumstances must first be considered, because what may have been useful in one place and time may not apply elsewhere. The standard is the Qurʾān and Sunnah, not loyalty to particular scholars. We judge people by how closely they follow the truth, not by whether they agree with a certain individual. And Allah knows best.

A reminder to myself and everyone else. Never look down upon someone because of their sins, nor think yourself better than them because of your worship. The Prophet ﷺ told us about two men from the Children of Israel. One was devoted to worship, while the other frequently committed sins. The worshipper would constantly advise the sinner to stop, until one day he said, “By Allah, Allah will never forgive you.” Because of this statement, Allah admitted the sinner into Paradise through His mercy and commanded that the worshipper be taken to the Fire. Abu Hurayrah رضي الله عنه said that he spoke a single word that destroyed his worldly life and his Hereafter. Sunan Abi Dawud (4901). How many times do we see someone falling into sin and begin to think we are better than them? How often do we forget that the guidance we possess is only through the mercy of Allah? You may be more knowledgeable than someone today, but they may be more sincere than you. You may have more acts of worship, but they may have a heart filled with humility and repentance. Advise the sinner, hate the sin, but never become arrogant because of your obedience. You do not know how your life will end, nor how theirs will end. May Allah purify our hearts from arrogance, protect us from self-righteousness, and grant us a good ending.

One of the biggest problems with some young students today is attention. You only have so much attention in your life. If most of it is spent tracking people, collecting mistakes, listening to refutations, waiting for the next person to slip, and figuring out who is “with” or “against” whom, then when exactly are you going to seek knowledge? When are you going to memorize Quran? Study hadith? Learn fiqh? Usul? Arabic? Tafsir? For some people, following mistakes has practically become their entire talab al-ilm. And there is another problem: inconsistency in standards. A contemporary scholar makes one mistake in an issue of aqidah or manhaj and suddenly every word he has ever said is investigated. People ask: Who does he sit with? Who praised him? Who did he refuse to warn against? Why didn’t he clarify this sentence? Why didn’t he retract that statement? But then they read earlier scholars who had mistakes that were arguably much greater, including serious mistakes in aqidah, and suddenly there is tafsil, context, excuses, interpretation, consideration of the scholar’s overall Sunnah and service to Islam—and they still comfortably call him Imam, Shaykh al-Islam, al-Hafiz, etc. I’m not saying those earlier scholars shouldn’t be excused or respected. The point is exactly the opposite: why does that scholarly fairness suddenly disappear when dealing with someone from the last 40 or 50 years? Imagine taking the harshest standards some people apply to contemporary Salafi scholars and applying them mechanically to every scholar in Islamic history. How many scholars would survive? If your answer is, “No, you have to understand the earlier scholar’s context, his usul, what he intended, whether the statement was actually established from him, whether he was mistaken in ijtihad, whether he retracted, whether the mistake was characteristic of his methodology, and you have to weigh his Sunnah and scholarship as a whole,” then good. That is precisely the point. Be consistent. And perhaps the saddest part is when the awam are constantly fed these disputes. People will say, “These issues aren’t for the awam,” while producing hours of public content about individuals, names, warnings, responses and counter-responses—and then acting surprised when ordinary Muslims become obsessed with them. If something truly isn’t for the awam, stop making the awam your audience for it. Jarh, tahdhir and refutation have their proper place. Ahl al-Sunnah have never denied that. But they are tools used to protect the religion. They are not the religion itself. A student can spend years knowing exactly who made a mistake, who refuted him, who defended him, and who sat with whom—and still be unable to properly explain a chapter of fiqh, parse an Arabic sentence, discuss an issue of usul, or recite what he supposedly spent those years studying. Your attention is part of your life. Spend it becoming a person of knowledge, not merely a person who knows the mistakes of people of knowledge. The strongest line, in my view, is “If something truly isn’t for the awam, stop making the awam your audience for it.” It captures the contradiction without denying legitimate jarḥ, radd, or taḥdhīr.

Your second post doesn’t really clarify the first. It changes the standard. In the first post, John already heard that Muslims believe in one God and that Muhammad ﷺ is the final Messenger. But you still said John was NOT a kafir because he had misconceptions about Islam. You said those misconceptions had to be cleared up first. Then when someone applied that same logic to Netanyahu, you responded by saying Netanyahu and other world leaders have “all heard the Truth.” But that’s not the standard you gave us in the first post. John had heard about Islam too. Your whole argument was that simply hearing about Islam isn’t enough if the person has a distorted understanding of it. So if someone says Netanyahu has a distorted understanding of Islam because he associates it with terrorism, you can’t just respond, “Well, he’s heard the Truth.” By your own first post, you would have to show that the misconceptions were actually cleared up for him. Even the Subway example shows the problem. You met a man who apparently didn’t even know what Islam was. Fine. That can be used as an example of someone to whom the message may not have reached. But then you go further and say that if he died right there, he would not be punished eternally and that “with Allah” he is not a kafir. How did you determine his individual ruling with Allah from one short conversation at Subway? Allah says: ﴿وَمَا كُنَّا مُعَذِّبِينَ حَتَّىٰ نَبْعَثَ رَسُولًا﴾ “We do not punish until We send a messenger.” That establishes a principle concerning punishment. It does not mean that after a two-minute conversation you can definitively tell us the final ruling of a specific person before Allah. And notice the inconsistency: With the Subway worker, you take his statement “What’s Islam?” at face value and conclude the message never reached him. But with Netanyahu and other specific people, you simply declare that they “ALL heard the Truth” and “ALL know” about the Hereafter. How do you know what was established upon either person before Allah? You created an extremely high standard in the first post: the person must properly understand the message and his relevant misconceptions must be clarified. Then, when someone applied that standard to a person you obviously believe is a kafir, you lowered it to: “He has heard the Truth.” Pick one standard and apply it consistently. And most importantly, separate three different questions: What is a person’s outward ruling in this world? Has the hujjah actually been established upon that particular individual? What will Allah do with that individual in the Hereafter? Those are not automatically the same question.

You’re actually proving the point. No one is arguing that merely sitting in the same room as an Ashʿarī or Māturīdī is prohibited in every circumstance. The question is whether the principle you’re now invoking, المصلحة الشرعية and looking at the purpose of the gathering, is being applied consistently. You say, “Understand صورة المسألة before passing a verdict.” Exactly. So why isn’t that same تفصيل given to the duʿāt in the West before they are refuted for appearing at conferences alongside people you consider innovators? You’ve now admitted that مجرد الاجتماع, merely gathering with them, is not sufficient. You have to look at the purpose, what was actually said, what benefit was intended, what harm was being avoided, and whether there was a legitimate مصلحة شرعية. And saying, “But they didn’t refute them on stage,” doesn’t automatically settle the issue either. You would first have to establish the principle that every permissible gathering with an innovator requires publicly refuting his bidʿah during that same gathering. Otherwise, where is the evidence for that condition? Your alcohol analogy also assumes the very thing you’re trying to prove. Someone openly drinking alcohol in front of you is actively committing a munkar in the gathering. An Ashʿarī simply sitting beside you while nobody is discussing the disputed theological issue is not necessarily the same صورة. And regarding this conference, if your argument is that its title is “countering ideological deviation,” that still doesn’t answer the principle. Were the specific Ashʿarī and Māturīdī doctrines of the scholars present actually being refuted? If not, then according to the standard you just imposed on Western duʿāt, that they share a platform, discuss general agreed upon matters, and don’t address the deviations of those sitting with them, you still have to explain the فرق المؤثر between the two cases. If there is a genuine difference, establish it with a consistent ضابط. But you cannot use مصلحة شرعية and consideration of صورة المسألة for one group, then abandon that تفصيل and reduce the other group to “he sat with an innovator.” That is precisely the inconsistency being questioned.