As a continuation of my conversations with young people about the importance of thinking—and after discussing how the pursuit of justice begins with the courage to think, a reflection inspired by Henry Todd’s book Die Empty, whose central message is that one should not take one’s ideas to the grave but bring them into the light, where they may benefit humanity—I found myself returning to the writings of Abbas Mahmoud Al-Aqqad, Tawfiq Al-Hakim, and, before them, Imam Ali ibn Abi Talib, as well as the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him), and, above all, the Qur’an’s repeated emphasis on reason and reflection.
In his remarkable book Thinking: An Islamic Obligation, Al-Aqqad argues that the Qur’anic command to think encompasses the full capacity of the human intellect and elevates contemplation to one of humanity’s highest virtues.
Islam, he writes, is a religion that knows no priesthood. It recognizes no intermediary clergy standing between the Creator and His creation. It does not require sacrifices offered through the intercession of a powerful saint or a sacred authority. No one possesses the exclusive right to interpret God’s will, to declare what is lawful or unlawful, or to decide who is saved and who is condemned. Naturally, the message of such a faith is addressed to the free, rational human being—unrestrained by any earthly authority that might stand between them and sound understanding or independent thought.
Al-Aqqad further argues that the greatest obstacles to reason are the worship of inherited tradition, blind obedience to religious authority, and the humiliating fear of political power.
Historians of religious thought, he observes, often agree that political tyranny poses less danger to the human conscience than inherited customs or the deception of those who claim exclusive religious authority. Political oppression comes from outside the individual, while unquestioning reverence for ancestors or submission to false spiritual guides captivates the mind from within. Tyranny is a problem of circumstance; intellectual submission is a problem of conscience. One may escape a tyrant by leaving a place, but escaping intellectual captivity requires liberation of the mind itself.
As the Qur’an declares:
“And when it is said to them, ‘Follow what Allah has revealed,’ they say, ‘Rather, we will follow what we found our forefathers following.’ Even though their forefathers understood nothing and were not guided?”
(Qur’an 2:170)
Imam Ali ibn Abi Talib—the City of Knowledge and the banner of justice—considered reason to be the foundation of faith and the pillar of worldly life. He famously said:
“The head of all virtues and the source of all refinement is reason, which God has made the foundation of religion and the support of worldly life.”
He also said:
“A person’s speech reveals the measure of his intellect, and his eloquence reflects the extent of his excellence.”
Among his enduring maxims is:
“Minds are not measured by age. Many a young person possesses remarkable wisdom, while many an elder has an empty mind.”
Tawfiq Al-Hakim, in The Four Conversations, imagines himself addressing God:
“The Qur’an speaks of Your three revealed religions and their sacred books—the Torah, the Gospel, and the Qur’an. Permit me, my Lord, to ask: Was it necessary for all three revelations to be sent?”
Surely, he answers, there must be profound wisdom behind this progression.
God created the human intellect—perhaps His most astonishing creation—not merely to exist, but to contemplate His wisdom.
Al-Hakim reflects on the stages of human development: from embryo to infant, from crawling child to questioning youth, from adolescence with its passions and ideals to mature adulthood, where reason reaches its fullest expression and individuals begin making independent judgments.
Perhaps, he suggests, divine revelation unfolded in a similar progression, each stage corresponding to humanity’s evolving intellectual capacity.
Moses and the Torah addressed humanity in its earliest communal stage, centered on tribal identity and the revolutionary affirmation of monotheism.
Jesus embodied humanity’s youthful stage, emphasizing love, compassion, and moral idealism.
Then came Muhammad (peace be upon him), representing humanity’s intellectual maturity, bringing a message addressed to reason itself. As the Qur’an says:
“Say, ‘I am only a human being like you, to whom revelation has been given.'”
(Qur’an 18:110)
This marks, in Al-Hakim’s interpretation, the stage at which the human intellect becomes capable of seeking truth through reflection itself.
Reason examines the nature of existence.
Reason investigates creation.
Reason arrives at the knowledge of God—not merely through miracles, but through understanding.
I believe that this capacity for rational awareness is one of the greatest gifts God bestowed upon humanity, distinguishing human beings from all other creatures.
Reason and thought are among God’s greatest miracles within us.
Why, then, do some seek to suppress them, forbidding people to think in the name of protecting religion or preserving inherited traditions—as though Islam itself required protection from those who reflect?
This is precisely why the Qur’an repeatedly invokes reason, knowledge, learning, and scholars. Unlike earlier prophets, Muhammad was not sent with spectacular physical miracles, despite the demands of his contemporaries.
They challenged him to produce springs from the earth, gardens flowing with rivers, fragments of the sky falling upon them, visible angels, a palace of gold, or a heavenly ascent followed by a written revelation descending before their eyes.
His response was simple:
“Glory be to my Lord! Am I anything but a human messenger?”
(Qur’an 17:90–93)
When humanity was still in its intellectual childhood and adolescence, tangible miracles served a purpose.
Once reason itself reached maturity, understanding became the greater miracle.
Al-Hakim continues:
We are born in complete unconsciousness. Our earliest existence is governed entirely by instinct. Even the brain does not complete its physical development until well after birth, while consciousness itself unfolds only gradually as experience accumulates.
Imagine, he asks, if we entered life fully conscious from the very first moment.
The miracle of life lies precisely in its gradual unveiling.
Perhaps this gradual unfolding also explains why Muhammad is called the Seal of the Prophets and why Islam is regarded as the final revealed religion.
Humanity had reached the stage at which it could come to know both the Creator and creation through the exercise of reason.
God entrusted humanity with that responsibility.
No further prophets.
No further miracles.
Only the ongoing responsibility to think.
In my view, the final revealed religion achieved a balance between intellect, emotion, and material reality. It entrusted humanity with the task of thinking for itself.
We seek evidence before conviction.
We question before belief.
We debate before agreement.
We revisit inherited interpretations in light of knowledge unavailable to previous generations.
Whoever forbids us from thinking denies one of God’s greatest blessings: the gift of reason itself.
The Prophet is reported to have said:
“How can the Qur’an benefit anyone without knowledge?”
Some have misunderstood the idea that Islam is suitable for every time and place.
They have interpreted it as requiring the preservation of the earliest historical understanding forever, limiting knowledge to what existed during the Prophet’s lifetime—as though Islam were meant for only one era.
I understand it differently.
Islam is universal precisely because humanity continues to advance—from ignorance toward knowledge.
As the Qur’an asks:
“Are those who know equal to those who do not know?”
Why do I write this?
Because two recent events—one Egyptian, one international—have stirred intense controversy. Though very different, they are connected by a common thread: hypocrisy, bad faith, and manufactured division.
At home, a thinker nearly found himself condemned simply because he dared to question prevailing assumptions and suggest that what we are told may not represent the whole truth—that we should investigate and verify for ourselves.
Internationally, another form of hypocrisy has become impossible to ignore: the glaring double standards in the world’s response to Ukraine and Europe on one hand, and to Palestine—and, more broadly, the Arab world—on the other.
Sadly, we now live in an age where those who claim to defend rights often undermine them, and those who speak most passionately about freedom are frequently the first to restrict it.
Extremism and self-righteousness seem to flourish on every side.
The time has surely come for us to understand.
The time has surely come for humanity to reach its full intellectual maturity.
