Muḥammad ‘Abduh:
The Father of Islamic Reform
Alexander Wain
He was a man of daring disposition and free spirit, openly expressing his opinion
and adhering to it, without fear of the might of any one in authority or the power
of any of the great.1
(from the Arabic newspaper, al-Muqaṭṭam)
Early Years
Muḥammad ‘Abduh’s birth has been variously dated – while most sources place it in
1849 (or 1266AH), others have suggested anywhere between 1842 and 1848.2 What is certain,
however, is that Muḥammad ‘Abduh’s father was an Egyptian named ‘Abduh ibn Ḥasan Khair
Allāh, from the village of Maḥallat Naṣr, in the Nile Delta. Hailing from one of Egypt’s
longstanding (and heavily Arabised) Turkish families, ‘Abduh ibn Ḥasan Khair Allāh was
forced to flee Maḥallat Naṣr shortly before ‘Abduh’s birth, in order to escape the oppression
being metered out by the province’s local officials. Leaving his wife and children behind,
‘Abduh ibn Ḥasan Khair Allāh travelled to Gharbiyya Province, in the Central Delta region.
There, and after a period spent moving from village to village, he met ‘Abduh’s mother, taking
her as his second wife. Originally from the city of Ṭanṭā, she claimed descent from Islam’s
second caliph, ‘Umar al-Khaṭṭāb. Although ‘Abduh would later claim that neither of his parents
were wealthy, soon after his birth his father acquired some land in Maḥallat Naṣr, enabling him
to return to his ancestral home. There he subsequently became a well-respected member of the
local community.3
It was in Maḥallat Naṣr that ‘Abduh spent his formative years. Like all small children
growing up in mid-nineteenth-century rural Egypt, he spent much of his time outdoors, gaining
proficiency in swimming, horse-riding and the use of firearms. His father, however, desired
more for his youngest son; finding himself with the necessary funds, he hired a teacher who,
coming to the house regularly, taught young ‘Abduh to read and write.4 Later, from the age of
ten (i.e. from ca.1859), ‘Abduh also began attending the classes of a local ḥāfiz. Under the
1
Cited in Charles C. Adams, Islam and Modernism: A Study of the Modern Reform Movement Inaugurated by
Muhammad ‘Abduh (Kuala Lumpur: Islamic Book Trust, 2010), 96.
2
The date 1848 was given by ‘Abduh himself, see Muḥammad Rashīd Riḍā ed., Tārīkh al-ustādh al-imām alshaykh Muḥammad ‘Abduh, vol. 1 (Cairo: al-Manār, 1931), 16.
3
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 379; Riḍā, Tārīkh, vol. 1, 13.
4
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 20.
1
latter’s guidance, ‘Abduh demonstrated his talent as a student by memorising the entire Qur’an
in just two years.5
Encouraged by his son’s achievements, in ca.1862 ‘Abduh ibn Ḥasan Khair Allāh sent
‘Abduh to study at the Aḥmadī mosque in Ṭanṭā, then a prestigious religious college considered
second only to the famous al-Azhar.6 Once there, ‘Abduh began studying Arabic grammar.
This first foray into more advanced Islamic learning, however, proved unsuccessful: ‘Abduh
quickly became infuriated by his teachers who, in a manner common at the time, would
frequently discuss a subject using an array of technical terms, none of which were explained
first. ‘Abduh complained that this made it almost impossible to understand them and, in
frustration, he ran away, taking refuge in the nearby home of his (maternal) uncles. His
stepbrother, however, who was also one of his teachers, tracked him down and returned him to
the mosque. Nevertheless, ‘Abduh fled again, this time returning to Maḥallat Naṣr. There he
announced his determination to give up learning altogether and become a farmer, just like his
other relatives. To this end, and at the age of sixteen (i.e. in ca.1865), ‘Abduh married and
attempted to settle down.7
After just forty days of married life, however, Abduh’s father compelled him to return
to the Aḥmadī mosque. Once again, ‘Abduh was unwilling: while still en route to Ṭanṭā, he
took flight for a third time, this time making for relatives in the village of Kanayyisat Adrīn. It
was there that he encountered his father’s uncle, Shaykh Darwīsh Khāḍir, a Sufi of the Shādhalī
ṭarīqah who had studied under the famous Libyan scholar, Muḥammad al-Madanī. Upon
seeing his great-nephew, Shaykh Darwīsh became greatly concerned by his extreme aversion
to learning. Going to visit him, he decided to take a book summarising Shādhalī teachings. He
asked ‘Abduh to read this aloud; ‘Abduh’s rebelliousness, however, immediately came to the
fore and, in a fit of temper, he hurled the book across the room. But Shaykh Darwīsh was not
to be put off so easily; he persisted with his request until ‘Abduh became so embarrassed that
he finally began to read. As he did so, Shaykh Darwīsh explained each passage aloud and,
thereby, gradually engaged ‘Abduh’s interest. After three successive afternoons spent in this
pursuit, ‘Abduh began reading the book of his own volition, even making notes on specific
passages so that he could ask questions later.8
After just fifteen days spent studying with Shaykh Darwīsh in this manner, ‘Abduh
decided to return to Ṭanṭā. Once back at the Aḥmadī mosque, he immediately became a diligent
pupil, his religious outlook decidedly tinged with Shādhalī teachings. His fellow students
quickly noticed his new-found dedication and promptly began flocking to ‘Abduh, asking for
help in their studies. Despite this attention, however, ‘Abduh decided not to stay in Ṭanṭā.
Instead, he found himself attracted to Cairo’s great centre of Islamic learning, al-Azhar. In
February 1866, therefore, he left Ṭanṭā for Egypt’s capital. Just one month later, he enrolled as
a student at al-Azhar.9
5
Ibid, 20.
Yvonne Haddad, ‘Muhammad ‘Abduh: Pioneer of Islamic Reform,’ in Pioneers of Islamic Revival, ed. ‘Ali
Rahnama (London: Zed, 1994), 31.
7
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 381.
8
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 23-4.
9
Ibid, 24-7.
6
2
As a Student at al-Azhar and meeting Jamāl al-Dīn al-Afghānī
For the next four years, ‘Abduh followed al-Azhar’s curriculum, attending lectures and
reading set texts. As at the Aḥmadī mosque, however, he felt unsatisfied; not only were his
new teachers also using technical terms without explaining them, but ‘Abduh found their
choice of subjects restrictive. Throughout these four years, therefore, ‘Abduh continued to visit
his great-uncle, Shaykh Darwīsh. The latter encouraged ‘Abduh to look beyond al-Azhar’s
narrow curriculum, to subjects like logic, mathematics and geometry. Taking this advice,
‘Abduh began searching for teachers outside al-Azhar, ones capable of instructing him in these
additional topics. After scouring the length and breadth of Cairo, he became student to such
notable philosophers and mathematicians as Shaykh Muḥammad al-Basyūnī and Shaykh Ḥasan
al-Ṭawīl. In addition to attending their classes, ‘Abduh also spent many long hours searching
al-Azhar’s library for religious (especially Sufi) texts not included in al-Azhar’s official
curriculum.10
Indeed, throughout this period ‘Abduh maintained a strong connection to Sufism.
Fasting throughout the day, he would spend his nights in prayer, all the time wearing the rough
garments characteristic of an ascetic. Indeed, so austere did his lifestyle become – including
long periods of self-imposed isolation – that even Shaykh Darwīsh became concerned; during
a visit ‘Abduh paid him in 1871, Shaykh Darwīsh pointed out that any knowledge ‘Abduh
gained during his studies would be useless unless implemented for the benefit of others. To
this end, Shaykh Darwīsh persuaded ‘Abduh to attend local religious meetings in and around
Kanayyisat Adrīn, where he could discuss his ideas with others. Thereby, he gradually
reintroduced ‘Abduh to the world.11
In 1871, ‘Abduh began attending another, this time Cairo-based, set of meetings hosted
by the charismatic Sufi shaykh, Jamāl al-Dīn al-Afghānī (d.1897). ‘Abduh had first met alAfghānī in 1869, when his philosophy and logic teacher, the aforementioned Muḥammad alṬawīl, had taken him to an evening meeting at al-Afghānī’s house. A passionate advocate of
renewal and reform in the Islamic world, over dinner al-Afghānī had presented ‘Abduh with a
Sufi-orientated vision of Islam dedicated to revival, resisting European infiltration and
promoting a unified Muslim community. Most importantly, however, ‘Abduh found in alAfghānī a brilliant teacher capable of penetrating Islam’s inner depths – something his teachers
at al-Azhar and (to a lesser extent) Shaykh Darwīsh were unable to do.12
In 1869, however, al-Afghānī was only visiting Egypt briefly, before going on to
Istanbul. Nevertheless, when he returned in 1871, ‘Abduh immediately joined the dedicated
circle of students gathered at his feet.13 Together with al-Afghānī, this circle studied classical
Arabic religious texts, probing their meaning and (most importantly) assessing their relevance
for the present. Bit by bit, al-Afghānī explained the teachings contained in each text and sought
to apply them to the modern world; when this could not be done, al-Afghānī developed new
teachings. Unlike ‘Abduh’s teachers at al-Azhar, therefore, al-Afghānī was not prepared to just
accept a point without first examining it, testing it and (if necessary) replacing it. For al10
Ibid, 30-1.
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 386, 396-8.
12
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 33; Haddad, ‘Muhammad Abduh,’ 32.
13
Haddad, ‘Muhammad Abduh,’ 31.
11
3
Afghānī, blind following of tradition (known as taqlīd) was to be rejected in favour of reviving
independent reason (ijtihād).14 Ultimately, this perspective would come to define ‘Abduh’s
career.
It was while studying with al-Afghānī that ‘Abduh wrote his first book, entitled Risālat
al-wāridāt (A Treatise Consisting of Mystical Inspirations, 1874).15 Although not published
until after his death,16 in it ‘Abduh placed at centre-stage his desire to be free of the shackles
of tradition:
[I am] one who has turned away from such subjects as dogmatics and dialectic
and has freed himself from the chains of adherence to sects, to be at liberty to
pursue the chase of knowledge.17
Based on this call to independent thought, ‘Abduh used the rest of his text to develop a
wujūdiyya-influenced brand of Sufism. Heavily pantheistic in tone, this controversially argued
that there was no true existence apart from God; contrary to the teachings of al-Azhar, ‘Abduh
argued that God was synonymous with His creation (i.e. not purely transcendent).18
In 1876, ‘Abduh produced a second text, entitled Ḥāshiya ‘alā sharḥ al-Dawwānī li al‘aqā’id al-‘Aḍudiyya (A Gloss on Dawwānī’s Commentary on the Sentences of Aḍud al-Dīn
al-Ījī). Although not published until the year of ‘Abduh’s death, this text constituted a
collection of annotations on al-Jalāl al-Dawwānī’s commentary on al-‘Akā’ id al-Aḍudiyyah, a
brief theological treatise by ‘Aḍud al-Dīn al-Ījī (d.1355). Although lacking the mystical
referents of his first text, this second one argued that human reason is the only true guide to
faith.19 Therefore – and again unlike the Ash’arite position taken at al-Azhar – ‘Abduh
maintained that human reason was capable of choosing right from wrong. Moreover, he also
stated that the Qur’an must conform to human reason – if a current interpretation of the Qur’an
appeared to be irrational, a new one must be found. This stance, however, immediately opened
‘Abduh up to charges of reviving Mu’tazilite thought, the extinct branch of Islamic theology
which privileged human reason over faith and argued that the Qur’an was created and not
eternal (and therefore subject to human reason).20 ‘Abduh would be pursued by this accusation
throughout his career.
As a result of both his ideas and his association with al-Afghānī, ‘Abduh’s final years
at al-Azhar were dogged with controversy. His modernising attitude, centred on independent
thought and (when appropriate) revisionism, came to be viewed with deep suspicion. Finally,
14
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 399-400.
Reprinted in Riḍā ed., Tārīkh, vol. 2.
16
Elie Kedourie, Afghani and ‘Abduh: An Essay on Religious Unbelief and Political Activism in Modern Islam
(London: Routledge, 2008), 12.
17
Riḍā ed., Tārīkh, vol. 2, 9.
18
Ibid. For a summary of this text and its contents, see Oliver Scharbrodt, ‘The Salafiyya and Sufism:
Muhammad ‘Abduh and his Risalat al-Waridat (Treatise on Mystical Inspirations),’ Bulletin of the School of
Oriental and African Studies 70:1 (2007): 89-115.
19
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 41.
20
Muhammad Qasim Zaman, Religion and Politics under the Early ‘Abbāsids: The Emergence of the ProtoSunnī Elite (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 61-2.
15
4
the leader of al-Azhar’s conservative circle, Shaykh ‘Ulaish, openly accused ‘Abduh of being
a Mu’tazilite (akin to an accusation of heresy).21 To this, ‘Abduh responded:
If I give up blind acceptance of Ash’arite doctrine, why should I take up blind
acceptance of the Mu’tazilite? Therefore I am giving up blind acceptance of
both, and judge according to the proof presented.22
This statement, however, did little to alleviate the controversies surrounding him and,
when ‘Abduh presented himself for examination in May 1877, he found many of his examiners
already set against him. Indeed, it is unlikely that ‘Abduh would have been allowed to graduate
from al-Azhar had it not been for the intersession of the university’s liberal rector, Muḥammad
al-‘Abbāsī (in office from 1870-1882).23 The latter was so impressed with ‘Abduh’s work that
he insisted the examiners pass him. But, rather than the special class above first class that the
rector felt ‘Abduh deserved, the examiners granted him only the second class. Nevertheless,
with this ‘Abduh became a fully-fledged ‘ālim (scholar).24
His Early Career: Teacher, Newspaper Editor, Revolutionary
After his graduation, ‘Abduh immediately returned to al-Azhar as a teacher. Lecturing
on a wide variety of theological topics, he made a concerted effort to utilise al-Afghānī’s
teaching techniques; acutely aware of his own negative experiences as a student, ‘Abduh
sought to introduce an ijtihād-centred approach to al-Azhar’s education system, one that would
encourage independent thought.25
Perhaps because of his reforming agenda, in 1878 ‘Abduh was also appointed
(seemingly at the direction of Egypt’s liberal Prime Minister, Riāḍ Pāshā) to teach history at
the newly-founded Dār al-‘Ulūm. This institution, established in 1873 by ‘Alī Pāshā Mubārak,
the then Minister of Education, aimed to rival al-Azhar as a centre of religious education. It
differed from its competitor, however, by emphasising modern teaching methods – thereby
coalescing with ‘Abduh’s reform agenda and no doubt explaining his appointment.26 Indeed,
simultaneous to obtaining this position, ‘Abduh also received an offer to teach Arabic language
and literature at the government-run Khedivial School of Languages, another reform-minded
institution.27 While working at both locations, ‘Abduh maintained his position at al-Azhar.
‘Abduh’s first venture into education, however, proved short-lived. In 1879, the
ineffective Khedive of Egypt, Ismā’īl Pāshā (r.1864-1879), was replaced by his son, Tawfīq
Pāshā (r.1879-1892). Despite early indications to the contrary, Tawfīq Pāshā proved hostile to
reform; in an attempt to maintain the conservative status quo, he expelled al-Afghānī from
Egypt and forced ‘Abduh into retirement at Maḥallat Naṣr.28 Nevertheless, early the following
21
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 42.
Cited in al-Manār, 8 (1905): 391.
23
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 30.
24
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 393.
25
Ibid, 404.
26
Riḍā ed., Tārīkh, vol. 3, 242; Adams, Islam and Modernism, 45.
27
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 404.
28
Ibid, 405.
22
5
year, Riāḍ Pāshā, who had been absent when Tawfīq Pāshā took the throne, returned to Egypt.
Eager to maintain a reform-minded presence in the public arena, he appointed ‘Abduh to one
of the three editorial positions at the official government organ, al-Waqā’i‘ al-Miṣriyya
(Egyptian Events). From 1880 onwards, therefore, ‘Abduh found himself able to freely voice
his reformist opinions via a government mouthpiece.29
Also during the early 1880s, ‘Abduh became involved in a short-lived revolutionary
movement, aimed at freeing Egypt from foreign interference. Led by the then Minister of War,
Aḥmad ‘Urābī Pāshā, the movement’s agitation for Muslim independence linked with the
themes ‘Abduh had assimilated under al-Afghānī. He therefore readily offered his assistance,
becoming a key advisor to many of the movement’s top figures. In June 1882, however, ‘Urābī
Pāshā’s revolution met a disastrous end: after unsuccessfully attempting to expel the British
from Alexandria, ‘Urābī Pāshā’s troops were routed and everyone judged to have been
complicit in the revolt was arrested and put on trial.30 Although ‘Abduh had opposed any
violence, he was found guilty of administering unlawful oaths to the principal ministers and
officers of the rebellion and exiled from Egypt.31
His Later Career: In Exile, Egypt’s Muftī, Islamic Reformer
After his exile, ‘Abduh travelled to Beirut, then part of Ottoman Syria. After remaining
there for a year, in late 1883 he received a letter from al-Afghānī. Writing from Paris, alAfghānī invited ‘Abduh to join him in Europe. As a result, in early 1884 ‘Abduh set sail,
arriving in Paris later the same year.32
Although ‘Abduh’s time in Paris was brief (ten months in total), it proved highly
productive. Working closely with al-Afghānī, ‘Abduh founded an organisation called al-‘Urwa
al-wuthqa (The Strongest Link).33 Dedicated to bringing about a reunification of the Muslim
ummah, al-‘Urwa al-wuthqa’s accompanying publication (bearing the same name) attempted
to identify a series of practical solutions to the problems besetting the Muslim world. At its
heart lay the conviction that the ummah could only be successfully revived if Muslims
remained steadfast to Islam’s core principles, as enshrined in the lives of its founders (the
salaf). Al-‘Urwa al-wuthqa therefore sought to refute accusations, common amongst
Europeans and European-educated Muslims at the time, that Islam could not hope to progress
if it remained loyal to its fundamental principles.34
Overall, al-‘Urwa al-wuthqa struck a more radical tone than ‘Abduh was used to,
perhaps reflecting his recent experiences in Egypt – although al-Afghānī always tended
towards the radical, too.35 Nevertheless, and although an influential organisation, al-‘Urwa alwuthqa proved short-lived; by the end of 1884, after publishing just eighteen issues of its
newsletter, it was supressed by colonial and Ottoman authorities, both of whom considered it
29
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 46.
Ibid, 51-2.
31
Kedourie, Afghani and ‘Abduh, 35.
32
Riḍā ed., Tārīkh, vol. 2, 526; al-Manār, 8 (1905): 455.
33
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 58.
34
A more detailed outline of these aims can be found in Riḍā ed., Tārīkh, vol. 2, 250-4, 279-85. See also
Haddad, ‘Muhammad Abduh,’ 33.
35
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 61-2.
30
6
subversive.36 Soon after, al-Afghānī and ‘Abduh left Paris, al-Afghānī for Russia and ‘Abduh
for Tunis. ‘Abduh, however, would stay in North Africa only briefly, before moving (usually
incognito) across the Middle East, trying to raise support for the al-‘Urwa al-wuthqa’s ideas.
By 1885, he was back in Beirut, teaching. Drawing in students from all faiths, his lectures (held
at his home) centred on theology and, in particular, the commonalities between all three
Abrahamic religions. Ultimately, ‘Abduh hoped to present their commonalities as a basis for
some form of future union.37
‘Abduh’s Beirut lectures were subsequently collated into a text, called Risālat al-tawḥīd
(The Theology of Divine Unity, published in 1897).38 This elucidated Islamic doctrine, the
nature of revelation and the role of reason in human affairs, while also presenting Islam as the
pinnacle of human achievement; ‘Abduh argued that Europe’s current strength rested on ideas
it had borrowed from Islam during the Renaissance. Consequently, if Muslims wished to attain
the same cultural heights as Europe, all they needed to do was re-appropriate the Islamic values
Europe had taken for itself – values ‘Abduh ultimately associated with the salaf.39 Rather than
needing to imitate Europe, therefore, and as many nineteenth-century (and later) Europeaneducated Muslims argued, Islam had the capacity to reform itself from within, without the need
for European accretions. All Muslims had to do was learn how to reclaim the dynamic forces
inherent to Islam itself. Central to this process would be the return to ijtihād advocated by alAfghānī; Islam’s recent decline necessitated its restatement in a manner conducive to the
modern world, a feat which could only be accomplished by returning to ijtihād and rejecting
taqlīd.40
After developing these key arguments, in 1888 ‘Abduh was allowed to return to Egypt.
Various influential people, including the British Consul-General of Egypt, Lord Cromer (or
Evelyn Baring, d.1917), impressed by ‘Abduh’s liberal reputation and earlier efforts at reform,
interceded on his behalf to obtain a pardon.41 Once back in his native land, ‘Abduh (and again
at Cromer’s instigation)42 became a judge (qāḍī) at al-Maḥākim al-ahliyya al-ibtidā’iyya (The
Court of First Instance of the Native Tribunals). In this capacity, ‘Abduh served first at Benha,
and then at Zagazig and Cairo. Later, he was also made a Consultative Member of the
Maḥkamat al-isti’nāf (Court of Appeal).43 Throughout this period, however, ‘Abduh remained
unable to engage in any official teaching activity; although many favoured his involvement in
this area, Ismā’īl Pāshā still feared his reforming influence over the young.44
In 1892, however, Ismā’īl Pāshā died and was succeeded by his more reform-minded
son, Abbās II (r.1892-1914). With this change of leadership, ‘Abduh saw an opportunity to
push the educational reforms he had been advocating for over a decade. Increasingly, ‘Abduh
saw these forms as the key to reinitiating ijtihād and, thereby, bringing about the rejuvenation
Haddad, ‘Muhammad Abduh,’ 32.
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 462; Kedourie, Afghani and ‘Abduh, 15.
38
Muḥammad ‘Abduh, The Theology of Unity (Risālat al-tawḥīd), trans. Isḥāq Musa‘ad and Kenneth Cragg
(Kuala Lumpur: Islamic Book Trust, 2004), 11.
39
Ibid.
40
Ibid, 132-141.
41
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 467.
42
Kedourie, Afghani and ‘Abduh, 37-8.
43
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 69.
44
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 467.
36
37
7
of Islamic society. Promptly seeking an audience with the new Khedive, ‘Abduh therefore laid
before him a series of plans for reforming al-Azhar. Impressed, Abbās II ordered the formation
of an Administrative Committee tasked with enacting the reforms. Coming into operation in
1895, this Committee included ‘Abduh as a government representative. Through its activities,
‘Abduh was able to institute wide-ranging reforms, including the addition of subjects like
arithmetic, algebra, Islamic history, composition, geometry and geography to al-Azhar’s
curriculum. Students now had to pass a selection of these new subjects, in addition to the more
traditional ones, in order to graduate. ‘Abduh even weighted the examinations so that those
who took more of the new subjects would be more likely to pass.45
The peak of ‘Abduh’s career, however, came in 1899 when he was made Muftī of
46
Egypt. In this role, he became Egypt’s official interpreter of canon law, the authority whose
fatāwā (legal verdicts) were final.47 Once again, ‘Abduh brought a reformist mind-set to this
new role; whereas his predecessors had been content to issue rulings only on matters referred
to them by government departments, ‘Abduh opened the process up to the public. In effect,
anyone could present a matter for his consideration. Moreover, many of the fatāwā he issued
demonstrated very liberal and modernising sentiments. For example, not only did ‘Abduh allow
Muslims to eat meat slaughtered by Jews and Christians, but he also permitted them to deposit
money in the Postal Savings Bank, even though this would mean collecting interest. Although
popular amongst reformers, these rulings made ‘Abduh the bane of many traditionalists.48
Death and Legacy
‘Abduh died on the 11th July 1905 (8th Jumādā I 1323), while in Alexandria. He had
cancer of the kidney.49 The morning after his death, a large cortege assembled to accompany
his body back to the railway station, where a government-chartered train waited to take him to
Cairo. All along the route, large crowds assembled to pay their respects. Once the body reached
the capital, it was met by government ministers, diplomatic representatives, leading scholars
and religious representatives. Together, they escorted the body back to al-Azhar, where a brief
funeral service was held. In line with ‘Abduh’s wishes, no grand eulogising took place in his
honour.50
Since his death, ‘Abduh has been labelled the pioneer of modern Islamic reform.51 As
outlined above, his aim was to reframe Islam in a modern idiom, to make it relevant to the
contemporary world. He strongly opposed any tendency towards taqlīd, a principle which
(along with his teacher, al-Afghānī) he largely blamed for Islam’s backwardness. Instead, he
favoured a return to ijtihād coupled with modernisation. As seen, however, this did not mean
merely imitating European culture; despite a deep respect for Europe, reinforced by several
additional visits to France and England after his initial 1884 trip to Paris, ‘Abduh did not favour
45
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 71-5.
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 487.
47
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 79.
48
Ibid, 80.
49
Al-Manār, 8 (1905): 378.
50
Adams, Islam and Modernism, 91-2.
51
See Haddad, ‘Muhammad Abduh,’ 31
46
8
the adoption of modern European ideology as a means of rejuvenating Muslim culture.52
Rather, ‘Abduh advocated reform from within, believing that Islam had the capacity to reform
itself. Indeed, and as seen, he traced much of Europe’s success to Islam; Muslims, ‘Abduh said,
must learn to reclaim those dynamic forces for themselves.
The bulk of ‘Abduh’s work was therefore aimed at reawakening Muslims to the value
of their own civilisation. At the core of this process lay his educational reforms; for ‘Abduh,
effective education, geared towards developing independent thought, constituted the only
effective means of reclaiming Islam’s lost heart. His attempts to reform al-Azhar were therefore
motivated, not just by his own negative childhood experiences, but by an urgent desire to
develop a propensity for independent wide-ranging thought amongst Muslims in general. Only
this, he felt, could effectively act as a basis for renewal.
In addition, ‘Abduh also favoured returning to the minimal essentials of Islam – or those
doctrines that all schools and factions could adhere to. For him, these were the bare teachings
of Islam, as contained in the Qur’an and as represented by the deeds and actions of the Prophet
and his Companions (the salaf). Because of this stance, ‘Abduh has been called the founder of
modern-day Salafism.53 Commonly associated with Islamic extremism, contemporary Salafī
interpretations of Islam do indeed emphasise a return to original sources. Unlike ‘Abduh,
however, they often equate the letter of the Islamic texts (or what is evident, al-zāhir) with their
meaning (or what is hidden, al-bāṭin). Consequently, Salafī practitioners tend towards
literalism, or the blind following of a text’s surface meaning54 – an approach which clearly runs
contrary to ‘Abduh’s stated aims. For ‘Abduh, Salafī Islam was not about blindly adhering to
the actions of the salaf, but about interrogating those actions in order to uncover their true
meaning (al-bāṭin). It was this inner heart, ‘Abduh argued, rather than any external form, which
constituted true Islam. Muslims needed to reacquaint themselves with that pure essence, and
then restate it for the modern world. For ‘Abduh, it was therefore necessary to submit every
original Islamic source (except the Qur’an) to interrogation and, when appropriate,
modification. For many modern Salafīs, however, any such attempt at interpretation,
modification and restatement is taboo.55
Further Reading
Adams, Charles C. Islam and Modernism: A Study of the Modern Reform Movement Inaugurated by
Muhammad ‘Abduh. Kuala Lumpur: Islamic Book Trust, 2010.
Al-Manār, 8 (1905).
Gauvain, Robert. Salafi Ritual Purity: In the Presence of God. London: Routledge, 2013.
Haddad, Yvonne. ‘Muhammad ‘Abduh: Pioneer of Islamic Reform.’ In Pioneers of Islamic Revival, edited by
‘Ali Rahnama, 30-63. London: Zed, 1994.
52
Ibid, 34-5.
Ibid, 36.
54
Robert Gauvain, Salafi Ritual Purity: In the Presence of God (London: Routledge, 2013), 4.
55
‘Abduh’s early positive experience of Sufism also stands in sharp contrast to modern Salafīsm, which tends to
condemn all forms of mysticism, see Scharbrodt, ‘Salafiyya and Sufism,’ 89-115.
53
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Kedourie, Elie. Afghani and ‘Abduh: An Essay on Religious Unbelief and Political Activism in Modern Islam.
London: Routledge, 2008.
Muḥammad ‘Abduh. The Theology of Unity (Risālat al-tawḥīd). Translated by Isḥāq Musa‘ad and Kenneth
Cragg. Kuala Lumpur: Islamic Book Trust, 2004.
Muhammad Qasim Zaman. Religion and Politics under the Early ‘Abbāsids: The Emergence of the Proto-Sunnī
Elite. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
Muḥammad Rashīd Riḍā ed. Tārīkh al-ustādh al-imām al-shaykh Muḥammad ‘Abduh, in 3 vols. Cairo: alManār, 1931.
Scharbrodt, Oliver. ‘The Salafiyya and Sufism: Muhammad ‘Abduh and his Risalat al-Waridat (Treatise on
Mystical Inspirations).’ Bulletin of the School of Oriental and African Studies 70:1 (2007): 89-115.
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