Belief, Providence and Eschatology: Some Philosophical Problems in Islamic Theism: Belief,...

© 2007 The AuthorJournal Compilation © 2007 Blackwell Publishing Ltd

Philosophy Compass 3/1 (2008): 231–253, 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2007.00119.x

Blackw ell Publishing LtdOxfo rd, UKPHCOPhilo so phy Co m pass17 47 -9991© 2007 The Autho r Jo urnal Co m pilatio n © 2007 Blackw ell Publishing Ltd11910.1111/j.17 47 -9991.2007 .00119.xNo vem ber 200700231???253???Philo so phy o f Relig io nBelief, Providence and EschatologyBelief, Providence and Eschatology

Belief, Providence and Eschatology: Some Philosophical Problems in Islamic Theism

Imran Aijaz*The University of Auckland

AbstractTraditional Islamic theism gives us a certain picture of the world, in which theconcepts of belief, providence and eschatology are involved. According to thetraditional picture, belief in God is a universal phenomenon. This is because Godhas providentially arranged the world in such a manner that the signs of God areeverywhere and which lead to knowledge of His existence. And, because the worldis ‘providentially unambiguous’, those who do not have faith in God are culpablefor their lack of it, and therefore deserve eternal punishment in hell. In this paper,I argue that this traditional picture is simply false, or at the very least seriouslycontestable. I also explore the implications of my argument for those who mightbe interested in assessing the viability of some form of (Islamic) ‘revisionarytheism’, in which the concepts of belief, providence and eschatology feature.

1. Introduction

In this paper I hope to stimulate discussion among thinkers who areinterested in some of the problems raised by the Philosophy of Religionspecifically within an Islamic context. The assumption underlying thispreliminary comment – that there isn’t much discussion (today) in relationto Islamic Philosophy of Religion – seems to me to be a reasonable oneto make. The contemporary Islamic philosopher, Shabbir Akhtar, defendsthis view at length in his erudite and provocative work A Faith for AllSeasons. I shall forego an elaborate analysis and defence of my assumption,and shall instead refer readers interested in the current status of IslamicPhilosophy of Religion to Akhtar’s work.

To sharpen my focus now, I shall engage in a philosophical analysis ofthe concepts of belief, providence and eschatology within Islamic theism, or,more specifically, as they appear within the Qur]an. It is the Qur]an, afterall, that is the primary source of doctrine for Islamic theism, and, for thisreason, it is appropriate (indeed, necessary) to relate a discussion of theseconcepts to the Qur]an. All three of the great theistic religions, Judaism,Christianity and Islam, maintain that various religious truths have beenrevealed to certain individuals (e.g. Moses, Jesus and Muhammad) and

232 Belief, Providence and Eschatology

© 2007 The Author Philosophy Compass 3/1 (2008): 231–253, 10.1111/j.1747-9991.2007.00119.xJournal Compilation © 2007 Blackwell Publishing Ltd

consequently recorded in scripture, e.g. the Bible or the Qur]an. Taking theircue from this claim, critics often argue that, if the Bible or the Qur]anconstitutes a bona fide revelation from God, then the putative facts aboutthe world reported in scripture (belief in which is an integral part of thereligion in question) should be true. The basis for this particular claimappears to be a simple argument.

Scripture, such as the Bible or the Qur]an, is said to be inspired by God,and God, it is has been traditionally claimed, is both omniscient and morallyperfect. A God who is omniscient could not be mistaken about those thingsregarding the world He chose to reveal to His creatures (e.g. by beingignorant of certain facts).1 And if such a God is morally perfect, then He wouldnot lie to us about the things that He revealed to us (e.g. by telling us thatthe earth is flat when it is not). What this entails (or at least strongly suggests)is that, if a certain scripture is inspired by the God of classical theism, thenthe putative facts it reports are indeed facts. If in reality scripture is inspiredby a God who is omniscient and morally perfect, then it does seem to follow,as Alvin Plantinga writes, that ‘Scripture is inerrant: the Lord makes nomistakes; what he proposes for our belief is what we ought to believe’ (12).

In section 2 I shall begin with a scriptural analysis of certain passagesin the Qur]an, which orthodox Muslims believe to be the verbatim wordof God, who is, according to traditional understanding, omnipotent,omniscient and morally perfect. In particular, I shall scrutinize thosepassages which speak about belief, providence and eschatology. I willargue that these passages in the Qur]an entail certain things about theworld which should be true if indeed they are revealed to us by God. Insection 3 I shall proceed to argue that, contrary to what the Qur]an says,these things are not true. We then have a problem for Islamic theism. Inthe fourth and final section of this paper, I shall discuss some possibleways Muslim thinkers might try to resolve the difficulties that emerge forclassical Islamic theism given the conclusions of my arguments.

There are two important points of clarification that I need to makenow before proceeding further.

The first point is this. In saying that I shall be looking at the conceptsof belief, providence and eschatology within Islamic theism, all I amsaying is that I shall be engaging in a critical, philosophical discussion of theseconcepts, the sort which can reasonably be expected to be accomplishedin a paper of this length. My goal, then, is to modestly explore some keydoctrines of Islamic theism which generate puzzles and invite philosophicalreflection. Contrary to what the title of this paper might be taken to imply,the present work certainly does not aim to provide a substantive, historicalaccount of philosophical discussions within Islam on belief, providenceand eschatology.

Now the second point. In what follows I shall make multiple referencesto ‘what the Qur]an says’. On other occasions, I shall discuss the meaningof a word or phrase in the Qur]an by referring to how that word or phrase


Belief, Providence and Eschatology 233

has traditionally been interpreted or understood. Thus, occasionally I shallmake a note of how ‘most exegetes’ or ‘most Muslims’ have interpretedthe word or phrase in question. This might strike some to be problematicfor the ensuing argument in this paper because they think that there is a sharpdistinction between what the Qur]an says and what most people interpretingthe Qur]an think it says. I agree that there is a distinction to be drawn betweenwhat a text might be taken to mean and what most people take it tomean. But in conceding this point, I wish to follow on with a responseto a possible claim that might be lurking behind this criticism, and that isthe claim that the meaning of the Qur]an – or any other text for thatmatter – can be completely separated from people’s interpretation of it. Thisis an implausible claim because it is hard to see just how to talk aboutwhat ‘the Qur]an says’ without any reference to people’s interpretation ofit. Arguably, the locus of meaning is between the reader who interprets atext and the text itself, and this means (no pun intended!) that meaningis inseparable from the interpreter.2 Now, a critic might argue that Godalone knows the true or ‘correct’ meaning of the Qur]an, perhaps trying tofind scriptural support for this view (e.g. Qur]an 3.7), so that the Qur]anictext can have meaning completely separate from our understanding of it.Even if this claim is true, it is irrelevant for our purposes when we try tounderstand what the Qur]an is saying.

In the proceeding discussion I shall pursue a simple exegetical strategy.When I speak of what ‘the Qur]an says’, I shall follow a traditionalapproach in taking the apparent meaning of the text, making reference towhat other people have said about the meaning of the word or phrase inquestion when appropriate.3 Towards the end of the paper, after I argue thattaking the apparent meanings of certain Qur]anic narratives that mentionbelief, providence and eschatology leads to philosophical problems, I shallconsider the possibility of alternative interpretations of these concepts.

2. Belief, Providence and Eschatology in the Qur]an

2.1. belief in the qur]An

Let us begin with the concept of belief as it appears in the Qur]an. Asone might expect, the Qur]an contains several passages in which it detailsvarious things that the faithful believe (and should believe). In the followingdiscussion, however, I shall concentrate only on what the Qur]an takes tobe the most important and fundamental of all religious beliefs – the beliefin tawhid, which is often translated as belief in ‘Islamic monotheism’.Strictly speaking, however, tawhid shouldn’t simply be understood as anaffirmation of monotheism in an Islamic context, as merely a metaphysicalor ontological claim about the nature of ultimate reality (i.e. that thereexists an omnipotent, omniscient and morally perfect Creator of the universe).Rather, as Muhammad Taqi-ud-Din Al-Hilâli and Muhammad Muhsin



Khân observe in their commentary on the Qur]an, traditional Islamicdoctrine specifies two further parts to tawhid – believing that nothing hasthe right to be worshipped apart from God alone, and also believing thatcertain names and attributes are unique to God (so that there is nothingin creation that is like God).4 Henceforth, for the sake of convenience,references to belief in tawhid should be taken to mean the set of beliefswhich comprise this fundamental Islamic doctrine. Focusing on belief intawhid will suffice for the purposes of my argument.

As odd or implausible as it might initially seem, I will now argue thateveryone holds the belief that tawhid is true, according to the Qur]anicWeltanschauung. The typical and immediate response to such a claim is toreact along the lines of:

Surely, this can’t be right. The Qur]an says that the faithful believe in Islamicmonotheism, but not the infidels, unbelievers or the polytheists. How couldthese people possibly be said to believe that Islamic monotheism is true?

Although most people would react this way, it seems to me that thisresponse is mistaken; all individuals believe that tawhid is true, accordingto the Qur]an.

To see this, let us begin with the concept of ‘faith’ in Islam. Mostpeople take the idea of faith in an Islamic context to mean the Arabicword iman, which comes from the verb amana. As Jane I. Smith notes,the word iman is ‘most commonly understood as faith’ (119). What, then,is it to have ‘faith’ or iman from an Islamic perspective? When iman appearsin the Arabic text of the Qur]an, virtually all English interpretations takethe word to mean belief. For example, the verse of Qur]an 2.126 reads:

Wa-ith qala ibraheemu rabbi ijAAal hatha baladan aminan waorzuq ahlahumina alththamarati man amana minhum biAllahi waalyawmi al-akhiri5

This is translated or interpreted as follows:

And remember Abraham said: ‘My Lord, make this a City of Peace, and feedits people with fruits, such of them as believe in Allah and the Last Day’.6

Several additional examples can be cited from the Qur]an where iman istaken to mean belief. So it seems that having faith or iman entails havingcertain beliefs. The Qur]an specifies various things that the faithful shouldbelieve, such as belief in God, the Last Day, His Book, His Angels,Messengers and so on (see, e.g., Qur]an 2.177; 2.285; 4.136).

Of course, to say that iman entails belief is not to say that the two aresynonymous. The verb amana means ‘to be secure’ or ‘to put trust’ insomething. Thus, to have faith (iman) in God is to trust in God, and totrust in God involves trusting in His commandments, which require oneto perform certain actions. To mention just one out of several availableexamples, the Qur]an specifies that the faithful, who trust in God, are towash certain parts of their bodies before performing prayer (Qur]an 5.6).Thus, faith, according to the Qur]an, involves various actions, and is



therefore different from merely expressing passive convictions. One mustbe careful here, however. It would be a mistake to infer from the correctobservation that faith and belief are not identical to the conclusion that,therefore, faith does not require belief. If I put my trust in you to help mealleviate my financial situation, for example, then that seems to entail thatI believe certain things. For example, it entails that I believe that you exist,and it also entails that I believe you will perform a certain action (e.g.lend me some money). It might be true that, in trusting you, I do nothold specific beliefs very strongly, since beliefs can be held with varyingdegrees of strength. For instance, in trusting you to help me improve myfinancial situation, I might weakly believe that you will lend me somemoney. Nevertheless, since belief is a categorical disposition, I still believethat you will lend me some money. Something similar applies to faith inGod. If I put my trust in God, then that entails I hold certain beliefs, e.g.that there is a God and that He will provide for me, however weakly Imight hold these beliefs.7

So to have faith or iman, according to the Qur]an, involves holdingcertain beliefs. As noted earlier, the Qur]an specifies several things that thefaithful should believe, but, for present purposes, it is not necessary to takeall of these things into account. What is made crystal clear in the Qur]anis that the person of faith believes in the truth of tawhid. This is the mostfundamental thing that the person of Islamic faith should believe, and soI shall concentrate on this particular belief in this paper.

My discussion of belief as it appears in the Qur]an should be relativelyuncontroversial up to this point, I think. Most people would agree thatthose people who do believe in tawhid are the faithful. The mu’min (personof faith) believes in the truth of tawhid, which forms the core of theIslamic religion. What, though, about those without faith? Doesn’t theQur]an say that it is possible not to have faith? If so, isn’t it correct tosay that people without faith do not believe in the truth of tawhid? I agreethat the Qur]an does say that it is possible not to have faith, but I denythat it says that those without faith lack belief in the truth of tawhid.

The contrastive term for iman in the Qur]an is the word kufr, fromwhich the term kafir is derived. The kafir is the person who does not haveiman; he or she is not a person of faith, a mu’min. Most English interpretersof the Qur]anic text have understood kufr to entail a lack of belief onthe part of the kafir. Thus, for example, Marmaduke Pickthall takesthe Qur]anic verse 2.39 (which mentions a variant of kufr – the verb kafaroo)

Waallatheena kafaroo wakaththaboo bi-ayatina ola-ika as-habu alnnari humfeeha khalidoona8

and offers the following rendition of it in English:

But they who disbelieve, and deny Our revelations, such are rightful Peoplesof the Fire. They will abide therein.9



Abdullah Yusuf Ali, however, gives a different English interpretation ofthe same verse:

But those who reject Faith and belie Our Signs, they shall be companions ofthe Fire; they shall abide therein.10

It seems to me that Ali’s interpretation is the more accurate one, as I willshortly explain. Unfortunately, most exegetes take kufr as essentiallyamounting to, or entailing, ‘disbelief ’ or ‘unbelief ’ on the part of the personwho does not have iman, who is a kafir. Both of the terms are, strictlyspeaking, incompatible with belief. For, if I disbelieve that p, then I believein the negation of p. And if I believe the negation of p, then I cannot atthe same time (consistently) believe that p. Furthermore, if I am chargedwith unbelief with respect to p, then I lack the belief that p. Hence, eitherdisbelief or unbelief with respect to p entails an absence of the belief thatp. Given this, one may wonder how one could possibly maintain that the‘disbeliever’ or ‘unbeliever’ in tawhid (assuming that such a person wouldnot hold inconsistent beliefs) can be said to believe that it is true. Isn’t theresimply a logical inconsistency here? There is an inconsistency if indeedkufr is taken to mean ‘disbelief ’ or ‘unbelief ’, but interpreting kufr in thisway is a mistake.

The Arabic word kufr literally means ‘to conceal’ or ‘to cover up’something. In a specifically religious context, it refers to covering up orconcealing religious truth. The Qur]an uses the word kufr to signify the(intentional) act of covering up or concealing that which one recognizes asreligious truth. Several verses make this clear where a prominent Qur]anicmotif is that the kafir rejects or refuses the ‘signs’ of God (e.g. Qur]an2.39; 2.99; 3.86, to mention only a few verses). As Wilfred CantwellSmith writes,

Kufr (so-called ‘infidelity’), the heinous sin, the incomprehensibly stupid andperverse obduracy, is not unbelief but ‘refusal’. It is almost a spitting in God’sface when He speaks out of His infinite authority and vast compassion. It isman’s dramatic negative response to this spectacular divine initiative. (123)

Typically, if I attempt to ‘cover up’ or ‘conceal’ some truth, p, then thisimplies that I know it to be the case that p. I say ‘typically’ because thereseem to be other senses in which (perhaps) one can say that a person is‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ some truth, p, without knowing it to be thecase that p. Consider two possibilities.

The first is ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ something in a public sensewithout privately knowing or believing it. So, for example, suppose it istrue that God exists. A convinced atheist who, in this case, holds a falsebelief about the existence of God (i.e. the belief that God does not exist)may nevertheless think that there are very good arguments for atheism.She may be a public advocate of the atheistic position, trying to persuadelots of people that there is no God on the basis of faulty arguments foratheism. It may be argued that such a person is ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’



the truth about God’s existence for other people without privately knowingor believing that there is a God. Since this person is an atheist, she doesn’tbelieve that God exists. And since she lacks the belief that there is a God,she cannot possibly be said to know that there is a God (since belief isnecessary for knowledge). Admittedly, though, the use of terms such as‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ in this example is problematic; it is debatablewhether such terms can apply here. Be that as it may, it seems to methat this sense of ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ something (if such termscan be sensibly applied here) is not how the Qur]an understands kufr (seebelow).

Another possible sense in which a person might be seen as ‘coveringup’ or ‘concealing’ a truth p without knowing it to be the case that p canbe brought out by the following example. Suppose it is true that Godexists, and that a certain person believes it to be true that God exists. Butthis person’s belief that there is a God is ill-founded; let’s say it came aboutas a result of religious indoctrination. Hence, this person’s belief that thereis a God lacks justification, and, therefore, cannot count as an instance ofknowledge (since knowledge is more then mere true belief; it requires somesort of justification). Still, it might be argued that such a person may wantto ‘cover up’ or ‘conceal’ the truth about God’s existence, e.g. by lyingwhen people ask her whether she thinks that there is a God, and urgingothers to accept the atheistic position. Here, one might argue that thisperson is ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ a truth, p, even though she doesnot know it to be the case that p. Again, the use of terms like ‘covering up’or ‘concealing’ in this example is debatable. Still, as with the previousexample, it seems to me this sense of ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ somethingis not what the Qur]anic account of kufr involves (see below). Otherpossible examples can be conceived where one might argue that a personis ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’ a truth, p, without knowing it to be the casethat p. But such examples, contrived as they are, will not capture the ideabehind the idea of ‘covering up’ or ‘concealment’ according to the conceptof kufr as it appears in the Qur]an.11

On our typical understanding of ‘covering up’ or ‘concealing’, then,consider a simple example where these terms are used. A man might besaid to be covering up or concealing the truth, say, from his wife, regardinghis extra-marital affairs. If confronted with accusations from his wife aboutunfaithfulness, he might refuse to acknowledge the truth of her accusations,and he might even be said to deny or reject the truth of her accusations,but it only makes sense to say that he ‘covers up’ or ‘conceals’ them, as perthe literal meaning of kufr, if the man actually knows that he is unfaithfulto his wife. And if the man knows that he is unfaithful, then it is quiteclearly the case that he also believes it.12 Of course, he will not act on thisbelief in all circumstances, e.g. in pretending to be faithful when he issuspected of unfaithfulness, but not acting on p does not necessarily implythat one lacks the belief that p.13



Similarly, the language used by the Qur]an, in those particular narrativesin which the kafir is accused of rejecting religious truth, makes sense onlyif the kafir actually has knowledge of the relevant religious truth andliterally ‘covers up’ or ‘conceals’ that knowledge and truth.

Now, one might think that my exegetical treatment of kufr, as it appearsin the Qur]an, is too swift. Might there not be other meanings of kufrderivable from the Qur]anic text? Marilyn Robinson Waldman conductsa detailed examination of the concept of kufr in the Qur]an in her excellentpaper ‘The Development of the Concept of Kufr in the Qur]an’. In herpaper, Waldman pursues a chronological approach in investigating thedevelopment of the Qur]anic concept of kufr. She rightly points out thatkufr is a concept that evolves in the Qur]an, and there are several aspectsto it. In the earlier surahs (chapters) of the Qur]an, the fundamental meaningof kufr is ‘a denial of the very clear signs which the mu’min . . . perceivesand accepts as proof of God’s messages’ (444). In later surahs, when kufris identified with various other traits, Waldman points out that this doesnot mean the earlier Qur]anic definition of it as a ‘denial’ of God’ssigns has been cancelled or abrogated. As she explains, ‘the concept ofkufr . . . [expands] to keep up with the expansion of Muhammad’s theologicalscope, but [it does] not [abrogate] former definitions’ (448). Whatever thefull dynamics and complexities of kufr may be, it seems that an integralpart of it, according to the Qur]an, is denial and concealment of religioustruth that is plainly evinced by the signs of God. This point is an importantone. In discussing the Qur’anic account of kufr, I am looking only at whatI maintain is a necessary condition for kufr to obtain (i.e. having knowledgeof the religious truth in question). I am certainly not investigatingsufficient conditions (whatever these may be) for a person to be guilty ofkufr.

So, to come back to the main point I am driving at here, if the kafirknows it to be the case that p, then he also believes that p. Hence, in theQur]an, both the mu’min and the kafir hold certain religious beliefs, the mostimportant of which is the belief that tawhid is true. What distinguishesthe two apart is that, unlike the mu’min who acts on his religious belief,the kafir refuses to act in the appropriate way, even though he, too, holds thereligious belief in question. As Cantwell Smith explains, kufr is ‘a choice,actively made’ (123). Shabbir Akhtar also acknowledges this point.According to traditional Islam, he says, ‘[k]ufr . . . [is] not metaphysicaldisbelief in the reality of a divine being but rather a practical neglect that[informs] one’s daily life’ (93; emphasis mine). The locus of iman and kufr,then, seems to be our ability to take or refuse to take religious beliefs to be truein our practical reasoning when we perform actions. Such ability seems to bedirectly under our control, and therefore, we can make sense of the activeverbs in the Qur]anic text, such as amanu and kafaru if these verbs referto our taking religious belief to be true (in our practical reasoning). If, however,these verbs were taken to refer simply to the acquisition or loss of



certain doxastic states, then this would be puzzling, since it is generallyacknowledged that beliefs are not directly under our control.

Trusting in God (i.e. having iman) and refusing to acknowledge God(i.e. kufr) exhaust the possible stances listed in the Qur]an that one cantake in relation to God. As Toshihiko Izutsu comments,

Îmân . . . and kufr . . . – or the corresponding personal forms, mu’min . . . andkâfir . . . – are two of the most important terms in the Koran. They constitutethe very center of the whole Koranic thought . . . The Koranic system revealsa very simple structure based on a clearcut distinction between Muslims andKâfirs. All Muslims are members of the community . . . And they stand in sharpopposition to those who . . . refuse to listen seriously to Muhammad’s teachingand to believe in God. In this simple structure there is no place for confusionor ambiguity. The ummah or (Muslim) community . . . divides men neatly intotwo opposing sections. Man is either Muslim or Kâfir. (7–8)

If this is correct, then it follows that everyone believes that tawhid is true.One is either a mu’min (or Muslim) or a kafir; there is no other alternativegiven in the Qur]an. It is true that the Qur]an describes some peoplewithout using the word mu’min or kafir. For instance, it sometimes refersto a person guilty of the sin of hypocrisy as a munafiq (plural munafiqun).And at other times, it condemns the behaviour of the mushrik (pluralmushrikun) who commits the grave sin of associating others with God inworship. But these categories seem to me to be subsets of kufr. Takehypocrisy. As Akhtar explains,

The Koran draws no sharp distinction between hypocrisy (nifaq) and rejection(kufr). This ambiguity is no doubt deliberate; and it seems to imply that boththese culpable attitudes have a common origin in the human personality, arespecifies of a single ailment. This ailment is the human proclivity to recruitperversity in the service of self-deception. (91)

One can regard the hypocrite (munafiq), then, as a kafir – as someone whoknows in his heart what the religious truth is, but, for perverse reasons,refuses to act on it (see, for example, Qur]an 63.1). The same thing appliesto the mushrik, where this word is often rendered into English as ‘polytheist’.Unfortunately, the word ‘polytheist’ is misleading when used to describethe musrik in English interpretations of the Qur]an. As Cantwell Smithrightly points out,

The mushrik . . . is not that man who simply believes in many gods; but . . . it is theman who perversely believes in many gods. Or, more precisely, one may notethat at this level the Arabic means, almost literally, ‘to believe in more godsthan there are’ . . . The mushrik (‘the associator’) . . . distorts the situation [of Islamicmonotheism] by elevating, in his perverse imagination or perverse behaviour,to the level where only God the Creator sits, some of God’s creatures, treatingthem as if they too were divine. (124–5, 126)

So, again, the mushrik is a kafir because, although he knows (believes) thatIslamic monotheism is true and only God deserves to be worshipped, he



does not act on this belief, e.g. by choosing to worship something otherthan God. Arguably, therefore, both nifaq and shirk are subsets of kufr.

As I have argued, the mu’min and the kafir both have the belief thattawhid is true, although, of course, the way they act in accordance withthis belief is what distinguishes between them (i.e. one responds to thisbelief by trusting in God and the other refuses or rejects God). According tothe Qur]an, then, everyone believes that tawhid – the heart of Islam – is true.

2.2. divine providence in the qur]An: a ‘providentially unambiguous’ world

The reason why belief is universal with respect to the truth of tawhid,according to the Qur]an, is because the ‘signs’ of God are also universaland unambiguously present. That is, the Qur]an maintains that God hasprovidentially ordered the world in such a way that belief in the truth oftawhid is a natural phenomenon. Several verses attest to this. For example,

Behold! in the creation of the heavens and the earth; in the alternation of thenight and the day; in the sailing of the ships through the ocean for the profitof mankind; in the rain which Allah Sends down from the skies, and the lifewhich He gives therewith to an earth that is dead; in the beasts of all kindsthat He scatters through the earth; in the change of the winds, and the cloudswhich they Trail like their slaves between the sky and the earth; – (Here)indeed are Signs for a people that are wise. (Qur]an 2.164)

These signs are such obvious indicators of the reality of the Divine thatrejection is simply foolish and perverse. ‘How can ye reject the faith inAllah? – seeing that ye were without life, and He gave you life; then willHe cause you to die, and will again bring you to life; and again to Himwill ye return’ (Qur]an 2.28). And, again, ‘Can there be doubt concerningAllah, the Creator of the heavens and the earth?’ (Qur]an 14.10). Indeed,the Qur]an indicates that doubt about these signs is willful, as in theEgyptian response to Moses, where signs are rejected out of spite, witharrogance, and despite the rejecters having actually been convinced aboutGod and the truth of tawhid (Qur]an 27.14; 7.132).

It is also interesting to note this Qur]anic narrative (2.34) regardingSatan’s rejection of God:

And behold, We said to the angels: ‘Bow down to Adam’ and they bowed down.Not so Iblis: he refused and was haughty: He was of those who reject Faith.

Wa-ith qulna lilmala-ikati osjudoo li-adama fasajadoo illa ibleesa aba waistakbarawakana mina alkafireena.14

In this verse, the Qur]an says that Iblis (Satan) – who clearly knew of theexistence of God (since God was speaking to him) – refused to obey thedivine commandment. Because of his haughtiness, he refused to submitto the will of God and therefore the Qur]an describes him as a kafir. Butthis is precisely how the Qur]an describes those people who are not Muslims,



and what this suggests is that, epistemically, all non-Muslims are in the samecognitive condition as Satan! All human beings have ample evidence forthe truth of tawhid, but some of them, for perverse reasons, refuse toacknowledge it. Although this conclusion will no doubt strike manypeople as incredible, many orthodox Muslims have no problems in acceptingit. As Frithjof Schuon writes,

The intellectual – and thereby the rational – foundation of Islam results in theaverage Muslim having a curious tendency to believe that non-Muslims eitherknow that Islam is the truth and reject it out of pure obstinacy, or else aresimply ignorant of it and can be converted by elementary explanations; thatanyone should be able to oppose Islam with a good conscience quite exceedsthe Muslim’s imagination, precisely because Islam coincides in his mind withthe irresistible logic of things. (64, n. 1)

Islamic tradition also maintains that every individual has, from birth, aninnate (pre)disposition towards Islamic monotheism. According to afamous prophetic tradition, the Prophet Muhammad said: ‘Every child isborn in a state of fitrah [a natural disposition that inclines one towards thetruth of tawhid ], and then his parents make him into a Jew or a Christianor a Magian’.15 The concept of fitrah can also be found in the Qur]an(7.172; 30.30). Fitrah need not be taken as an account of a differentepistemological pathway towards knowledge of God, as opposed to reflectingon the signs of God. On the contrary, one plausible interpretation of fitrahis to see it as a cognitive faculty through which the signs mentioned in theQur]an, e.g. the alternation of the night and day, evince the reality ofGod.16 On the Qur]anic account, the universality of the belief that tawhidis true is hence linked to the universality of God’s signs in the world.

2.3. qur]Anic eschatology

According to Qur]anic eschatology, the faithful are rewarded with entryinto Heaven, and those who reject faith are punished in Hell. The mainreason for which the rejecters of faith merit their punishment is that theyreject the signs of God. The rejecters know – they believe – that tawhid istrue, but, out of sheer obduracy, they refuse to submit to the Divine will.Rejection is therefore culpable. The kafir is blameworthy because hechooses to reject God knowing fully well that he has no reasonable basisfor doing so. Culpability is the principal factor in (or at least a necessarycondition for) evoking the wrath of God upon an individual.

This basic structure underlies the ‘salvific exclusivism’ in the Qur]an.Only Muslims will go to heaven, since the only acceptable religion in thesight of God is Islam:

If anyone desires a religion other than Islam (submission to Allah), never willit be accepted of him; and in the Hereafter He will be in the ranks of thosewho have lost (All spiritual good). (Qur]an 3.85)17



The Qur]an does contain passages which suggest that salvation is open tomembers of other religious groups, such as Christians (Qur]an 2.62; 3.199;5.69). One can, however, find other verses which deny the possibility ofsalvation for other religious groups (e.g. Qur]an 5.72). The apparentambiguity imparted by the conjunction of such passages can be dealt withvariously by different manners of interpretation, but one long-establishedtradition elegantly maintains that the exclusivist passage of Qur]an 3.85‘abrogated’ all those verses which support salvific inclusivism.

When considered in light of the discussion on iman and kufr, it seemsthat the reason why non-Muslims, such as Hindus or Buddhists, aredestined for Hell is because they are guilty of kufr. That is, they know thattawhid is true (among other Islamic beliefs), but they refuse to acknowledgethis truth. Hence, they are culpable and deserve punishment.

3. Belief, Providence and Eschatology in the Qur ]an: A Critical Assessment

Let us now take stock. According to the apparent meaning of theQur]anic text, everyone believes that tawhid is true, since an individual iseither a mu’min or kafir, and both of these terms entail a reference to thebelief that tawhid is true, as I have argued. The reason why the Qur]anmaintains that belief is universal with respect to tawhid is because it claimsthat the world is providentially arranged in such a way that the ‘signs’ ofGod are universal. Everyone has a natural disposition ( fitrah) to see thesesigns as pointing to the reality of tawhid. Furthermore, because God hasarranged the world in such a way, there can never be inculpable rejection.All rejecters of faith are culpable, and therefore merit the punishment ofHell in the afterlife. Moreover, the Qur]an gives us a picture where anyonewho is not a Muslim, e.g. a Jew or a Christian, is a rejecter of faith. Allnon-Muslims are therefore culpable and excluded from God’s plan ofsalvation.

Now, this is the picture that appears to emerge from a careful analysisof the apparent meaning of the Qur]an, and which plenty of orthodoxMuslims have derived from reading it. And, as argued previously, thispicture should be true if indeed it is revealed truth. But is it? I shall nowargue that it is not at all clear that it is. Indeed, there are (at the very leastprima facie) reasons for thinking it is false.

3.1. is belief universal in tawhId universal?

Let us begin with belief in tawhid. As explained in section 2.1, theQur]anic narratives in which the mu’min and the kafir are mentionedpresuppose that both of these individuals have knowledge that tawhid istrue. And this entails that they also believe that this religious claim is infact true. Since being a mu’min or being a kafir exhaust the possible stancesone can take with respect to the truth of tawhid (according to the Qur]an),



and since both the mu’min and the kafir believe that tawhid is true, itfollows that everyone believes that tawhid is true. Is this correct?

I do not think it is. The most obvious response to the Qur]anic claimhere is to point to the fact of diversity in beliefs about religion.18 Noteveryone is a Muslim, and therefore (if we charitably grant the assumptionthat people won’t hold inconsistent beliefs) not everyone believes thattawhid is true. There are, for example, Buddhists, Christians, Hindus, andatheists, who do not have this belief. In fact, the majority of people in ourworld do not believe that tawhid is true. A possible reply to this objectionis to point out that all that we may affirm with certainty is that Buddhists,Christians, Hindus and atheists do not act on the belief that tawhid is true.This is plainly evident from the religious practices (or lack thereof ) ofthese groups. However, since belief and action are separable, the fact thatthese people do not behave in a Muslim fashion is not conclusive evidencethat they do not know or believe in the truth of tawhid.

Such a reply fails to convince. Surely, there is prima facie reason to thinkthat Buddhists won’t act as Buddhists unless they believe in Buddhist doctrine.Similarly, the reason that atheists act as though there is no God is becausethey believe that there is no God. And since the beliefs of Buddhists andatheists (with respect to God) are incompatible with the belief that tawhidis true, neither Buddhists nor atheists (again, charitably disregarding thepossibility that such people would hold inconsistent beliefs) hold thisbelief. The reasoning here applies more generally to our practice of attributingbeliefs on the basis of observed actions. For example, there is prima faciereason to think that so-and-so is taking some medicine to alleviate herillness when we see her take the medicine because she believes that she isill. Of course, this prima facie reason can be overridden if we acquireadditional evidence which shows that things are not quite as they seem.We might acquire further evidence which tells us that the reason so-and-sois taking some medicine when we see her taking the medicine is actuallybecause she has an addiction and is abusing the drug. That is, she knowsfully well – and hence believes – that she is not ill. Still, she acts as thoughshe is ill by taking the medicine.

So there is prima facie reason for thinking that the reason Buddhists,Christians, Hindus and atheists behave as they do is because they holdBuddhist, Christian, Hindu and atheistic beliefs respectively. And sinceholding these beliefs excludes belief in tawhid, these people do not (assumingthey are being consistent) believe that tawhid is true.

A defender of the thesis that belief in the truth of tawhid is universalmight now concede that there is prima facie reason for thinking that noteveryone believes that tawhid is true. What she may insist on, however, isthat this prima facie reason can be overridden by further evidence to showthat, in fact, those who claim not to believe that tawhid is true do actuallybelieve it even though their actions might be indicative to the contrary. Thisfurther evidence would be the Qur]anic claim that God has providentially



arranged the world in such a way that the signs of God are everywhere.These signs lead to knowledge of God, which of course includes thebelief that tawhid is true. But now we must ask whether this claim is true.Is it reasonable to think that God (if He exists) has providentially arrangedthe world in a manner that the signs of God – which lead to belief intawhid – are universally prevalent?

3.2. is our world ‘providentially unambiguous’?

The Qur]an maintains that our world is providentially unambiguous. Thatis, the signs of God, which lead to belief in the truth of tawhid, amongother Islamic beliefs, are universally and unambiguously present. Whateverplausibility this claim might have had in 7th-century Arabia, when theQur]an is said to have been revealed to the Prophet Muhammad, it iscertainly not a plausible claim given what we know about our currentsociological situation. There are, it seems to me, two main considerations– one ‘global’ and the other ‘local’ – which strongly suggest that ourworld is not providentially unambiguous, that our world is, on the con-trary, religiously ambiguous.19

The first consideration is the fact of diversity in beliefs about religion,a ‘global’ phenomenon. By this, I do not mean to refer simply to the factthat different groups of people each hold different (and often incompatible)beliefs about religion, but also that these different beliefs are held bypeople of comparable integrity. As McKim observes,

It is not just the fact that there are diverse beliefs that is striking: it is the factthat wise people who think carefully and judiciously, who are intelligent,clever, honest, reflective, and serious, who avoid distortion, exaggeration, andconfabulation, who admit ignorance when appropriate, and who have reliedon what seem to them to be the relevant considerations in the course ofacquiring these beliefs, hold these diverse beliefs. Let us say that such a personhas integrity. (129)

If our world is providentially unambiguous – if the signs of God areuniversally present – then it is difficult to see why we would have suchdiversity in beliefs about religion. One would expect there to be nodisagreement, or at least no substantial disagreement, about religious mattersamong people of integrity. Yet, in our world, this does not seem to bethe case. There are millions of individuals who, for example, appear to haveno awareness of God at all, and several of these individuals are persons ofintegrity. Moreover, among those persons of integrity who do believe thatthere is a God, there is substantial disagreement as to what the true natureof God is, e.g. debate among Muslims and Christians as to whether Godis utterly one or tri-personal. Such substantial disagreement in beliefsabout religion among persons of integrity provides some evidence forthinking that our world is religiously ambiguous.



The second, ‘local’, phenomenon to be considered in favour of the ambi-guity thesis is the present situation and past history regarding philosophersof religion who have debated the question of God’s existence. An initialcuriosity is this. If the signs of God are universally and unambiguouslypresent for all to see, why does there exist the reputable tradition of‘natural theology’ in theistic religions, which has seen several great theisticphilosophers formulate arguments for the existence of God? The mainpurpose of historically famous arguments of natural theology, such as theCosmological, Teleological and Ontological Arguments has been apologetic;these arguments have been aimed at showing that reasonable people oughtto believe that God exists. To put it another way, arguments of naturaltheology have been formulated as attempts to ‘disambiguate’ the world,to show that, upon careful reflection, reasonable people ought to believe thatthere is a God.20 But this presupposes that there is something ambiguousin the first place that requires disambiguation. It presupposes that it isindeed possible for reasonable people to fail to believe that God exists.This suggests that the existence of God is not a religiously unambiguousfact (even if it is indeed ultimately reasonable to hold the belief that thereis a God based on arguments of natural theology). Therefore, it appearsthat God – if there is a God – has not providentially arranged the worldin such a way that the signs of God are unambiguously and universallypresent to everyone.

But one can put further pressure on the Qur]anic claim that the worldunambiguously and universally exhibits the signs of God, for there is yetanother reason for (positively) thinking that the world is religiouslyambiguous (apart from the ‘global’ phenomenon of diversity in beliefsabout religion mentioned above). Again, this reason has to do with thedebate among philosophers who have addressed the question of God’sexistence. Not only does the sheer existence of such debate cast somedoubt on the claim that the existence of God is obvious for all to see, butthe fact that such a debate appears not to have progressed beyond animpasse provides some further, positive reason to think that the thesis ofreligious ambiguity is true. As Stephen T. Davis observes,

[N]one of the evidence [in relation to the religious hypothesis of God’s existence]is definitive or unambiguous: any bit of evidence that might be suggested infavor of or against the religious hypothesis can be (and no doubt has been)challenged. The problem is that the evidence looks like evidence only to thosewho are already committed to the view that the evidence is said to support.It seems that there is no clear preponderance of evidence in favor of theismover naturalism or vice versa. Witness the fact that there have been trulybrilliant minds on both sides of the debate in the history of thought. Witnessalso the fact (well known to readers of philosophical journals) that seeminglyevery time somebody comes up with a good argument in support of theism itis soon demolished by nontheists, and every time somebody comes up with agood argument against theism it is soon demolished by theists. Perhaps the



moral to draw is that if these arguments were demolished, then they were notvery good arguments in the first place. [N]one of the intellectual evidence oneway or another is unambiguous: it is difficult to think of even one theistic oratheistic argument to which there are not impressive rebuttals. (181–2)

If we have such evidence for thinking that the ambiguity thesis is true,then it follows that our world does not unambiguously and universallyexhibit the signs of God – if there is a God who has given us signs – to leadus to the belief that tawhid is true.

Much more can, of course, be said here. For now, however, I think Ihave said enough to show that the Qur]anic claim about a providentiallyunambiguous world can be seriously contested.

3.3. is the qur]Anic account of salvific exclusivism tenable?

Several objections have been raised against the doctrine of salvific exclusivism,understood as the general claim that God saves one particular group ofpeople, granting them eternal life in heaven, and damns the rest of humanityto eternal punishment in Hell.21 Indeed, one can plausibly argue, it seemsto me, that the existence of a perfectly loving God and the doctrine ofsalvific exclusivism are logically inconsistent. For instance, is divine retributioncompatible with the Divine nature? It does not seem to be. And, even ifit is, is it consistent with God’s love, compassion and mercy that He shouldconsign the vast majority of the human race to eternal torment in Hell?Arguably, the answer is ‘no’, if we accept the assertion, repeated at thebeginning of virtually every surah in the Qur]an, that God is Al-RahmanAl-Rahim (‘Most Gracious, Most Merciful’).

These are important concerns, but ones which I shall choose to foregohere. Instead, I shall suppose, for the sake of argument, that the Qur]anicclaim that culpable rejection merits eternal punishment is correct. What I shallnow argue, however, is that one cannot plausibly appeal to this premisein an attempt to justify (on Qur]anic grounds) the claim that non-Muslims,such as Buddhists, Christians, Hindus, atheists, etc., are culpable in notbeing Muslims and therefore destined for Hell. This is because the personwho merits the punishment of Hell is a kafir – a person who knows (andbelieves) that tawhid is true, but refuses to acknowledge this and act on it.Such (perverse) rejection is arguably culpable, and we may suppose fornow that culpable rejection merits punishment, as described in the Qur]an.Suppose this is right. Does this provide justification for the doctrine ofsalvific exclusivism? I don’t think so, and the reason for this is becausemost (if not virtually all) non-Muslims do not appear to be guilty of kufr,of knowingly covering up or rejecting the truth of tawhid.22

Since believing that tawhid is true is a necessary condition for knowingthat tawhid is true, and since knowing that tawhid is true is a necessarycondition for being classified as a kafir, it follows that believing that tawhidis true is a necessary condition for being a kafir. Insofar as we have prima



facie reason for thinking that Buddhists, Christians, Hindus, atheists, or indeedany other groups of people who are not Muslim, do not believe thattawhid is true, we also have prima facie reason for thinking that these peoplecannot be accused of kufr. If such non-Muslims cannot be accused ofcommitting kufr, then it seems that they cannot be accused of culpablerejection of the truth (of tawhid). Thus, a necessary (Qur]anic) conditionfor God sending people to Hell is not met. This conclusion presents aproblem for a reading of the Qur]an that says only Muslims will bepermitted into heaven, while all non-Muslims will be consigned into hell.

4. The Challenge to Islamic Theism Considered

The challenge to Islamic theism, then, is this. The Qur]anic descriptionof belief, providence and eschatology entails certain facts about the world.These facts should be true if indeed the Qur]an is revealed truth fromGod. As we have seen, however, what the Qur]an says about belief,providence and eschatology does not seem plausible because what the Qur]ansays about these topics does not seem to fit well with our understanding ofthe world. This suggests that the Qur]anic narratives about belief, providenceand eschatology, which are inconsistent with our understanding of theworld, cannot be revealed truth from God. To the extent that taking theQur]an as the verbatim and infallible word of God is an integral part ofthe Islamic religion, we thus have some evidence against Islamic theism.

How might one respond to this argument? One possible response is toaccept the force of this argument, and maintain that we have evidenceagainst the truth of Islamic theism. Another possibility is to take theargument seriously, but re-think the concepts of belief, providence andeschatology as they appear in the Qur]an. In this section, I shall considerthe latter possibility by briefly sketching out possible re-interpretations ofeach of the three concepts.

To begin with, one might define faith (iman) and rejection (kufr) notwith respect to specifically Islamic beliefs, but more broadly with respectto moral beliefs. Although both claims are controversial, it seems easier todefend the claim that everyone holds certain moral beliefs as opposed tothe claim that everyone holds Islamic beliefs. The reason why this way oflooking at faith and rejection would still be relevant to a theistic religionlike Islam is because God is meant to be the source of all that is good.Thus, whenever a person recognizes the good and responds to it, she maybe responding to God Himself even if she lacks the explicit belief thatthere is a God.23 A person who is disposed to act in this way would be amu’min. The kafir, on the other hand, would be someone who has atendency to refuse to act on the good, even though she knows what it is.Such a view is suggested in the work The Ninety Nine Beautiful Names of God,by al-Ghazali, who argues that a man’s happiness consists in conformingto the attributes of God.24 For example, in the Qur]an, one of the names



of God that is mentioned in several places is Al-Rahim – ‘The Merciful’.Says al-Ghazali,

[Man’s share] in the name al-Rahim lies in not turning away from any needypersons without meeting their needs to the extent of his ability, nor turningfrom any poor in his neighbourhood or town without committing himself tothem and ridding them of their poverty – either from his own wealth orreputation, or by interceding on their behalf with another. And if he be unableto do all that, he should assist them by prayer or by showing grief on accountof their need, in sympathy and love towards them, as though he were therebysharing in their misfortune and need. (54–5)

Having a share in the attribute of mercy does not seem to necessarilyrequire an explicit belief in God. One can do all the things al-Ghazalimentions here (with the possible exception of prayer) without the beliefthat there is a God.

If the foregoing point about morality being the locus of faith andrejection is accepted, then one has the basis for a further reply to theworry about a providentially or religiously ambiguous world. For if whatare of central importance for God are our moral responses in this world,then there does seem to be a reason for Him to create a world that isreligiously ambiguous. A religiously ambiguous world would mean thatGod maintains a certain ‘epistemic distance’ between Himself and hiscreation. A number of philosophers have argued that this epistemic distanceis logically necessary in order for us to have significant moral freedom.25

God, it is argued, is not interested in mere moral responses, but in particularthose responses which are chosen under the burden of significant moralresponsibility. If God had chosen to create a world where everyone had astrong awareness of His existence and presence, then, as Richard Swinburneexplains,

We [would] be in the situation of the child in the nursery who knows thatmother is looking in at the door, and for whom, in view of the child’s desirefor mother’s approval, the temptation to wrongdoing is simply overborne. Weneed ‘epistemic distance’ from God in order to have a free choice betweengood and evil. (269)

There is a slight suggestion towards this view in the Qur]an (5.48),though, as discussed earlier, the dominant theme is that of a religiouslyunambiguous world. However, support for the sort of argument given bySwinburne may be obtained elsewhere within the Islamic tradition. Forexample, in his discussion of the divine attributes, al-Ghazali says that thehighest form of worship is the worship of God as an end in itself.26 Onewho worships God for the sake of paradise ‘has made God . . . a meansto seeking it rather than making Him the goal of his quest’ (77). But‘[w]hoever has no love but God . . . and seeks nothing except Him . . . he isthe one who can be said to worship God . . . for the sake of God’ (77).If one simply substitutes the word ‘God’ for the word ‘good’ in al-Ghazali’s



claim, then we have a picture that is very similar to Swinburne’s. One cando the good simply for the sake of the good, or one could do the goodbecause one is strongly aware of God’s presence and knows that Godwants one to do the good (leaving little free choice in the matter). Sincethe former seems more morally significant, there is some reason to supposethat God would create epistemic distance between Himself and us.

Finally, given the suggested changes to the concept of faith and rejection,one could tackle the problem of salvific exclusivism by arguing that culpablerejection of faith is still possible, because of the possibility of peopleknowing the good but being disposed in such a way that they refuse toact on it. Since this description does not obviously entail a reference toany particular religious or non-religious category, one could not maintainthat, for example, the Muslims would be saved by God while, say, theJews and Christians would be punished for their culpability. The tendencyto fail to act on the good even when one knows what it is seems tooevenly dispersed across religious and cultural categories to be able tospecify culpable groups. And if morality is the locus of faith and rejection,it seems difficult to see how divine retribution fits into the picture duringour post-mortem existence, if there is one. Perhaps the doctrine of hell isbetter understood as remedial rather than retributive, since this would betterour ends as moral creatures. As Muhammad ‘Ali suggests,

Hell . . . only represents the evil consequences of evil deeds, but still it is not aplace merely for undergoing the consequences of what has been done; it isalso a remedial plan. In other words, its chastisement is not for the purpose oftorture; it is for purification so that man, rid of the evil consequences whichhe has brought about with his own hands, may be made fit for spiritualadvancement. (307)

These suggested modifications to the concepts of belief, providence andeschatology as they are found in the Qur]an are simply suggestions howMuslim thinkers might respond to the problems I have raised; they arecertainly not meant to be definitive or conclusive solutions.

Much more needs to be said if one wants to defend the reasonablenessof Islamic theism given the arguments presented here. Even if my suggestedmodifications of some of the key concepts of Islamic theism are philosophicallyreasonable, are they theologically adequate? In other words, is the revisionto Islamic theism that I am proposing really Islamic? These are importantquestions, but ones which I cannot address given the scope of the presentpaper. Still, I trust that enough has been said to encourage further debateand discussion.

On a closing note, I wish to draw attention to the importance of thetopic I am addressing. Of course, the discussion in this paper will be (Ihope!) of interest to philosophers of religion (among others), and maytherefore be taken to have some importance or worth. But this is not theprincipal reason I have in mind in thinking that my topic of discussion



has importance. I think it is clear that one’s view on the topic I haveaddressed here will have practical import on one’s behaviour. In sayingthis, I do not merely wish to make the general point about how one’stheological (or non-theological) outlook influences the manner in whichone acts. Rather, my more specific point is that one’s characterization of otherpeople can influence one’s behaviour towards them. If I view you as a kafir, assomeone who knows the truth about God but perversely neglects Himand spits in His face, then obviously my behaviour towards you will bedifferent than if I see you as someone who merely has no belief that Godexists (and therefore cannot be accused of being a kafir). In milder forms,my attitude towards you might express itself practically through neglect,indifference or prejudice. In harsher forms, my reaction to (what I thinkis) your kufr might even see it that I try to harm you in some way ‘(Afterall, if God Himself sees you fit for eternal chastisement in burning hell,what’s the problem if I inflict some temporary hurt on you in this life?)’.This latter possibility has to be taken seriously, when even today we seecertain people behaving in inappropriate ways towards other people, tosay the least, because they see those other people as ‘infidels’, ‘heretics’ orwhatever. Consider, as a theological specimen where people are neatlydivided into two categories, the following ruminations by the late EgyptianIslamist, Sayyid Qutb (d. 1966), in his famous work Milestones:

In the world there is only one party of God; all others are parties of Satan andrebellion . . . There is only one way to reach God; all other ways do not leadto Him . . . There is nothing beyond faith [i.e. iman] except unbelief [i.e. kufr],nothing beyond Islam except Jahiliyyah [state of ignorance concerning divineguidance], nothing beyond the truth except falsehood.27

I think one can see how the imposition of this sort of theological outlook– an outlook that divides the world into those who have iman and thosewho are guilty of kufr – can provide a stimulus for improper and evendangerous behaviour on the part of some people towards others. If thearguments of this paper are cogent, then this theological outlook can berejected on the basis of empirical observation and philosophical reflection.

Acknowledgements

I am extremely grateful to John Bishop, Oliver Leaman, Ben Miller, J.L.Schellenberg, Michael S. Pearl and Nick Trakakis, who read through anearlier draft of this paper in its entirety and provided helpful commentsand feedback. I would also like to thank my audience at the Centre forPhilosophy and Religion at The University of Notre Dame, where anearlier and shorter version of this paper was discussed during the seminarsession on 27 October 2006. And, I would like to thank my audienceat the 2006 Annual Conference of the New Zealand Division of the Aus-tralasian Association of Philosophy held at Victoria University, Wellington,



where the key ideas of this paper were discussed. Last, but certainly notleast, I would like to thank the anonymous reviewer of this paper forPhilosophy Compass for the comments provided.

Short Biography

Imran Aijaz’s main area of philosophical interest and research is in thePhilosophy of Religion, especially in contemporary ‘analytic’ Philosophyof Religion and its intersection with the religious traditions of Islam,Judaism and Christianity. In his paper ‘Philosophy of Religion in Islam’,published in The Biographical Encyclopaedia of Islamic Philosophy, ed. OliverLeaman (Continuum: 2006), 1:207–31, Aijaz argues for the importanceof taking the project of Philosophy of Religion seriously, and explores thepossibility of formulating a specifically Islamic Philosophy of Religion.Aijaz has also co-authored papers on Reformed epistemology and DivineHiddenness in the International Journal for Philosophy of Religion. Aijaz’sother areas of philosophical interest are epistemology, ethics and logic. Heholds both a B.A. and an M.A. from Auckland University, where he ispresently a doctoral student and a part time lecturer in Philosophy ofReligion and Critical Thinking.

Notes

* Correspondence address: Department of Philosophy, 18 Waterloo Quadrant, The Universityof Auckland, Private Bag 92019, Auckland, New Zealand. Email: [email protected].

1 I am assuming here that divine inspiration is synonymous with revelation. There have, ofcourse, been theists who reject this equivalence. Such theists have argued that scripture mighthave been inspired by God without being divine revelation. So, for example, scripture mightbe inspired in the sense that it contains important moral truths that God would want us to beaware of, but, since inspiration is not the same as revelation, scripture authored as a result ofdivine inspiration might very well contain factual inaccuracies. And, conversely, the fact thatscripture contains factual inaccuracies does not entail that it is not divine inspiration. I amsympathetic to this separation of divine inspiration from revelation; all I am doing here, however,is explaining how certain challenges to theistic religions make this particular assumption, anassumption that one might reasonably reject. It is interesting to note that many theists actuallyagree with this assumption, namely, that inspiration is synonymous with, or entails, revelation.This, I believe, is certainly true of orthodox Muslim theists, who regard the Qur]an as bothdivine inspiration and revelation in its entirety.2 A sustained defence of this claim would get us into the realm of philosophical hermeneutics,which is not the primary area of concern in this paper. As a starting point for further readingon this particular topic and defence of the claim I make here, one may consult Hans-GeorgGadamer’s famous work Truth and Method.3 I call this exegetical strategy ‘traditional’ because this is how several of the classical exegetesapproached the interpretation of the Qur]an. Essentially, the strategy was to take the apparentmeaning of the Qur]anic text unless one had reason to depart from the apparent meaning. TheIslamic philosopher-theologian, Al-Ghazali, provides a nice discussion of this topic in his Faysalal-Tafriqa Bayna al-Islam wa al-Zandaqa (On The Boundaries of Theological Tolerance in Islam), 93ff.4 See Muhammad Taqi-ud-Din Al-Hilâli and Muhammad Muhsin Khân 1171ff. As Al-Hilâliand Khân explain, tawhid has three aspects to it. Firstly, tawhid entails belief in the ‘[o]neness of



the Lordship of Allâh, Tauhîd-ar-Rubûbiyyah: To believe that there is only one Lord for all theuniverse and He is its Creator, Organizer, Planner, Sustainer, and the Giver of security and thatis Allâh’. Secondly, another aspect of tawhid is the ‘[o]neness of the worship of Allâh, Tauhîd-al-Ulûhiyyah: To believe that none has the right to be worshipped . . . except Allâh’. The finalaspect of tawhid, as Al-Hilâli and Khân write, is to believe in the ‘[o]neness of the Names andQualities of Allâh: Tauhîd-al-Asmâ was-Sifât’ (1171).5 Transliteration of the Qur]an, USC-MSA Compendium of Muslim Texts. 7 October 2006<http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/transliteration/002.html>. Emphasis mine.6 Translation of the Qur]an, (Yusuf Ali), USC-MSA Compendium of Muslim Texts. 7 October2006 <http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/002.qmt.html>. Emphasis mine.7 It might be argued that trust entails some sort of propositional attitude, and this attitude mayor may not be doxastic. Thus, for example, it might be possible to put one’s trust in someoneon the basis of hope as opposed to belief. For an account of this line of thinking, see LouisPojman, ‘Faith without Belief ?’; ‘Faith, Doubt and Hope or Does Faith Entail Belief ?’. WhileI am happy to concede this point, it seems to me that the traditional Islamic account of faith(as trust) entails holding certain beliefs on the part of the person of faith. This point becomesclear when I discuss the Qur]anic account of rejection below.8 Transliteration of the Qur]an, USC-MSA Compendium of Muslim Texts. 7 October 2006<http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/transliteration/002.html>. Emphasis mine.9 Translation of the Qur]an, USC-MSA Compendium of Muslim Texts. 7 October 2006<http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/002.qmt.html>. Emphasis mine.10 Translation of the Qur]an, USC-MSA Compendium of Muslim Texts. 7 October 2006<http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/002.qmt.html>. Emphasis mine.11 I am indebted to Jonathan Farrell for a helpful discussion on this particular issue.12 Although epistemologists disagree as to the precise nature of knowledge, it is generallyaccepted that any adequate account of knowledge must include belief.13 The point here is that belief and action are logically separable, even though they often gotogether (i.e. one typically acts on p if one believes that p). One can act on something one doesnot actually believe, e.g. in pretending not to be bored even though one believes that he isengaged in an extremely boring conversation. And, conversely, one can refuse to act onsomething that one does actually believe, e.g. in refusing to stop smoking even though onebelieves that one should stop smoking.14 <http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/transliteration/002.html>, last accessed October 7,2006.15 Sahih Al-Bukhari, Vol. 6, Book 60, no. 298. <http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/fundamentals/hadithsunnah/bukhari/060.sbt.html#006.060.298>, last accessed October 7, 2006. What isworthy of note in light of this famous prophetic tradition or hadith is how several people whodecide to become Muslim refer to themselves as re-verts to Islam, not con-verts.16 An interesting comparison may be drawn here between Islamic thought about fitrah and theReformed epistemology of Alvin Plantinga. See, for example, his Warranted Christian Belief. Thecentral idea behind Plantinga’s Reformed epistemology is that theistic belief may be held inthe basic (i.e. non-inferential) way because it is ‘properly basic’. That is to say, one may beentitled to hold theistic belief without being able to infer its truth from other beliefs by way ofargument. In Warranted Christian Belief, Plantinga defends the possibility of theistic belief beingproperly basic by constructing models to show how theistic belief may be ‘warranted’, that is,how it may amount to knowledge. Plantinga shows how theistic belief in general may bewarranted by arguing it is possible that God created all humans with a sensus divinitatis, acognitive faculty that has the proper function of producing basic (warranted) beliefs about God.This idea is very similar to the Islamic understanding of fitrah, as Cafer S. Yaran has noted inhis Islamic Thought on the Existence of God. See 16–18.17 <http://www.usc.edu/dept/MSA/quran/003.qmt.html>, last accessed October 7, 2006.18 The phrase ‘diversity in beliefs about religion’ is better, though more awkward, than thephrase ‘religious diversity with respect to beliefs’. The reason for this is because the latter suggeststhat all beliefs are religious, whereas the former is broad enough to accommodate non-religiousbeliefs as well, e.g. atheist and agnostic beliefs. I take this point from McKim 128.19 As far as I am aware, John Hick is the first philosopher to use this phrase. See, for example,Hick 73.

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20 I take the term ‘disambiguation’ from Terence Penelhum. See Penelhum 131ff.21 For a forceful critique of the doctrine of salvific exclusivism in the context of Christianity,see Talbott.22 One will do well to keep Akhtar’s description of the kafir in mind when one raises thequestion ‘Are all non-Muslims kafirs?’: ‘The Koran’s overall portrait of the rejecter (kafir) isunflattering. There is no saving grace here: the disbeliever is a totally ignorant, perverse,hard-hearted, presumptuous, disobedient and, above all, ungrateful human being. He is accusedof being worse than an animal on account of his refusal to ponder the signs of God (K:8:55).The rejecter is, says the sacred author, in a particularly intriguing phrase, a ‘stranger to the truth’(K:16:22)’ (90).23 For an exploration of this idea, see Wainwright.24 See ch. 4 of this work.25 For a succinct discussion of this argument, see Al-Ghazali 75–8.26 See the discussion in Swinburne 75–8.27 Sayyid Qutb, Milestones (first published 1964), ch. 9. <http://www.youngmuslims.ca/online_library/books/milestones/hold/chapter_9.asp>, last accessed October 7, 2006.

Works Cited

Akhtar, Shabbir. A Faith for All Seasons. Chicago, IL: Ivan R. Dee, 1990.Al-Ghazali, Abu Hamid. On the Boundaries of Theological Tolerance in Islam. Trans. Sherman

Jackson. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2002.——. The Ninety Nine Beautiful Names of God. Trans. David B. Burrell and Nazih Daher.

Cambridge: The Islamic Texts Society, 1995.Al-Hilâli, Muhammad Taqi-ud-Din and Muhammad Muhsin Khan, eds. Interpretation of the

Meaning of the Noble Qur]an in The English Language. Riyadh: Darussalam Publishers, 1996.Ali, Muhammad. The Religion of Islam. Cairo: National Publication & Printing House, n.d.Davis, Stephen T. Faith, Skepticism and Evidence: An Essay in Religious Epistemology. London:

Associated UP, 1978.Gadamer, Hans-Georg. Truth and Method. Trans. J. Weinsheimer and D. G. Marshall. 2nd rev.

ed. New York, NY: Crossroad, 1989.Hick, John. An Interpretation of Religion. London: Macmillan, 1989.Izutsu, Toshihiko. The Concept of Belief in Islamic Theology. Basingstoke: Yurindo, 1965.McKim, Robert. Religious Ambiguity and Religious Diversity. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000.Penelhum, Terence. Reason and Religious Faith. Boulder, CO: Westview, 1995.Plantinga, Alvin. Warranted Christian Belief. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000.——. ‘When Faith and Reason Clash: Evolution and the Bible’. Christian Scholar’s Review 21.1

(September 1991): 8–33.Pojman, Louis. ‘Faith, Doubt and Hope or Does Faith Entail Belief?’. The Existence of God.

Eds. Richard Gale and Alexander Pruss. Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2003. 535–47.——. ‘Faith without Belief ?’. Faith and Philosophy 3.2 (1986): 157–76.Schuon, Frithjof. Stations of Wisdom. Bloomington: World Wisdom Books, 1961.Smith, Jane I. ‘Iman and Islam’. The Encyclopedia of Religion. Ed. Mircea Eliade. New York, NY:

Macmillan, 1987. 119–23.Smith, Wilfred Cantwell. ‘Faith, in the Qur]an; and its Relation to Belief ’. On Understanding

Islam. The Netherlands: Mouton Publishers, 1981. 110–34.Swinburne, Richard. The Existence of God. 2nd ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2004.Talbott, Thomas. The Inescapable Love of God. Universal Publishers, 1999.Wainwright, William J. ‘Jonathan Edwards and the Hiddenness of God’. Divine Hiddenness: New

Essays. Eds. Daniel Howard-Snyder and Paul K. Moser. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2002.98–119.

Waldman, Marilyn Robinson. ‘The Development of the Concept of Kufr in the Qur]an’.Journal of the American Oriental Society 88.3 ( July–September 1968): 442–55.

Yaran, Cafer S. Islamic Thought on the Existence of God. The Council for Research in Values andPhilosophy, 2003.

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