Intraquranic Interpretation PDF
Intraquranic Interpretation PDF
Intraquranic Interpretation PDF
Bhutta, Sohaib Saeed (2018) Intraquranic Hermeneutics : Theories and Methods in Tafsir of the Qur'an through
the Qur'an. PhD thesis. SOAS University of London. http://eprints.soas.ac.uk/30286
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Intraquranic Hermeneutics:
Theories and Methods in Tafsīr of
the Qurʾān through the Qurʾān
2017
Department of the Languages and Cultures of the Near and Middle East
SOAS, University of London
3
Abstract
Islamic hermeneutical works commonly state that “the Qurʾān explains itself”,
and scholars inside and outside the tradition have tended to note and/or adopt this
intratextual approach to interpretation. Most famously articulated by Ibn Taymiyya,
the principle remains in need of interrogation and elaboration. More broadly, the study
of Quranic hermeneutics (uṣūl al-tafsīr) is receiving fresh attention both in Western
academia and in Muslim confessional scholarship. This study is designed to contribute
to these developments and the wider concerns of Tafsīr Studies.
The research examines the extent to which the process of “tafsīr of the Qurʾān
through the Qurʾān” (TQQ) has been elaborated in theory and how it has manifested
in exegetical practice. The latter is achieved through an extensive case study which
compares the approaches and conclusions of a range of exegetes, particularly those
whose projects were based solely or primarily upon TQQ. Following these descriptive
chapters, the remainder of the thesis works towards a constructive account of TQQ of
benefit to any interpreter of the Qurʾān, drawn mainly from ʿulūm al-Qurʾān literature.
The theoretical underpinnings of the endeavour are explored in the light of four
“principles”, along with classical theories (such as contextual revelation, abrogation)
which could present a challenge to the very possibility of intraquranic exegesis. The
final chapter draws upon broader genres of literature on the Qurʾān which shed light
on TQQ processes and practices.
Throughout these explorations of theory, method and practical application, a
number of core issues and tensions come to light – such as objectivity vs. subjectivity,
reductionism vs. pluralism, and the relative authority and value of this form of exegesis
in the broader field of tafsīr.
4
Acknowledgements
Contents
INTRODUCTION................................................................................................................... 9
CONCLUSION................................................................................................................... 242
BIBLIOGRAPHY ................................................................................................................ 246
Figures
Introduction
1 I have opted to use “exegesis” to describe the practice of tafsīr, and “hermeneutics” for its underlying
theories and methods, usually described in Arabic as uṣūl (principles), as also in uṣūl al-fiqh (sometimes
called legal hermeneutics). Of course, Western hermeneutics has moved on considerably from its origins
in Bible interpretation, and the field is sometimes known in Arabic as taʾwīliyyāt. Therefore, my use of
the term recalls its earlier applications and points towards the possibility of generalising the insights of
uṣūl al-tafsīr to enrich understanding of interpretation in language and life. Whether and how that could
be achieved is a question I have not attempted to address.
2 In some ways, the distinctions can be useful between etic and emic vantage points, between critical
and confessional/normative positions, between descriptive and prescriptive accounts, and between
academic and guild contexts of study. My own research blends various aspects but aims towards a
“constructive” approach which aids in “active” study of the Qurʾān and its exegesis in living
communities of research and practice. As Elliot Bazzano argues, “normativity” is by no means restricted
to Muslim scholarship (see ‘Normative Readings of the Qur’an: From the Premodern Middle East to
the Modern West’). See also Karen Bauer’s reflections in ‘The Current State of Qurʾānic Studies’, pp.
37–41.
3Articles in Boullata (ed.), Literary Structures of Religious Meaning in the Qur’ān are indicative of this trend.
Chapter 1 below contains a discussion of the Egyptian “literary school” of exegesis, albeit limited to its
use of intraquranic citations. See also El-Awa, Textual Relations in the Qur'an: Relevance, Coherence and
10
and Garry Wills’ recent title What the Qur’an Meant illustrate the fact that interpreting
the Qurʾān is not merely a confessional practice. As long as exegesis remains a living
activity and concern, there will be debates over which theories and methods produce
the most authentic and fruitful understandings of the text.4
Building on the foundations of traditional Muslim scholarship, this research
examines the extent to which the process of “tafsīr of the Qurʾān through the
Qurʾān” (TQQ)5 has been elaborated upon in theory in hermeneutical literature, and
how it has manifested in exegetical practice. After further focus upon classical and
modern theories which have a bearing on the possibility and practice of intraquranic
exegesis, this thesis draws upon broader genres of literature on the Qurʾān which could
inform the development of an integrated methodology. The following is an outline of
the chapters and the key research question for each:
Structure, where the communicative aspect is given primacy (in a text intended for guidance) over
aesthetics (pp. 35–37).
4 While my own focus is on uṣūl with clear roots in Islamic tradition, other interpretive trends may be
seen as alternative uṣūl, whether based on Biblical, Rabbinical and Late Antique intertextuality; or Syriac
etymology; or various modern ideologies.
5 In Arabic, tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān. I have adopted the term “intraquranic” as an effective shorthand,
as well as the abbreviation TQQ. The term “intratextuality” is used by a number of scholars in the same
straightforward way I use it in this thesis. Unlike Neuwirth, I am not restricting this concern to
diachronic reading, through which the progression of theological arguments can be traced (see ‘Neither
of the East nor of the West’ in Neuwirth, Scripture, Poetry, and the Making of a Community, pp. 42–43).
6Gregor Schwarb observes: “a proper appreciation of the hermeneutical principles underlying scriptural
exegesis must look beyond the tafsīr genre” (‘Capturing the Meanings of God’s Speech,’ p. 114).
11
In this way, the first half concerns how TQQ has been theorised and practised, and the
final two chapters look at underlying “principles” and “methods”, respectively,
organised in novel categories. The thesis is, therefore, both descriptive and
constructive.
– and the exegetical works of the same author. Noting that the eighty “modes” (anwāʿ,
effectively chapters) of this work have been categorised by some modern scholars into
thirteen, or even five groups,15 he points out that any exegete would need to draw from
multiple modes depending on relevance to the verses at hand.16 In Chapter 1 below, I
have identified the chapters and sections of Al-Itqān pertinent to intraquranic analysis.
This brief overview of three recent compilations in Tafsīr Studies demonstrates
that, while the field is still being defined, theoretical and methodological aspects – and
corresponding genres in Muslim scholarship – have already been recognised as
relevant. However, these genres – namely ʿulūm al-Qurʾān and its subset of uṣūl al-
tafsīr – have naturally received less sustained attention than the tafsīr genre itself.
Therefore, one of the key contributions of this study will be to shed further light on the
key works in Quranic sciences and hermeneutics, also drawing attention to the porous
boundaries of these genres.
15 Burge, ‘Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūṭī, the Muʿawwidhatān and the Modes of Exegesis’ in Bauer (ed.), p. 279 –
describing the categorisations by Krawulsky and Wansborough, respectively. See also McAuliffe’s
‘Exegetical Sciences’ in Rippin (ed.), The Blackwell Companion to the Qurʾān, p. 417, in which she describes
Al-Itqān and its predecessor Al-Burhān (by Zarkashī) as “summas”. I have referred extensively to these two
classical works for the interpretive principles scattered throughout, especially the intraquranic aspects.
16As Ṭayyār states in reference to Ibn Taymiyya’s idealised scheme (see in Chapter 1), “Anyone who
engages in the task of exegesis knows that the various methods will intermingle, and there is no tafsīr
which is ordered in this way” (in Al-Jāmiʿ fī Uṣūl al-Tafsīr wa Manāhij al-Mufassirīn, 1/467).
17The subtitle means “An attempt at construction”. The book was published in association with the
Moroccan research institute MUBDIʿ: see 4.2.3 below. Along with Markaz Tafsīr, they are active in
advancing normative Tafsīr Studies.
18 Ḥammād, ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, p. 15.
14
The concern over this “lacuna” goes back centuries, and the state of tafsīr and its uṣūl
is often lamented in contrast with other fields in Islamic scholarship, especially ḥadīth
and fiqh.21 In his book Al-Iksīr fī ʿIlm al-Tafsīr, Najm al-Dīn Sulaymān al-Ṭūfi (d.
716/1316) described how rules in these fields were developed to sort between authentic
and unreliable reports, and between valid and invalid opinions; he argued that a similar
methodology (qānūn) is required in tafsīr, and scholars should not be afraid of
originality.22 In the early twentieth century, Ḥamīd al-Dīn Farāhī lamented the
historical preoccupation of Islamic hermeneutics with juristic concerns as opposed to
developing a methodology applicable to all fields.23
Markaz Tafsīr is a new centre in Riyadh which has established a research unit
for uṣūl al-tafsīr; two recent publications have provided an interesting snapshot of the
field to date. The first, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī l-Muʾallafāt (2015), studies works belonging
explicitly to the genre, both classical and modern: the researchers conclude that there
is a lack of clarity surrounding the field’s conceptualisation (mafhūm), subject matter
(mawḍūʿ) and sources of derivation (istimdād). They also note a disconnect between
19 This point reflects that there is serious work required to be done to the tafsīr corpus itself, in addition
to extracting methodological principles. When setting out to translate the first volume of Fakhr al-Dīn
al-Rāzī’s The Great Exegesis (Islamic Texts Society, 2018), I was dismayed to realise that there is no critical
edition of a work of this importance.
20 Ḥammād, ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, p. 19.
21 Badr al-Dīn al-Zarkashī related from some teachers the following assessment of the relative state of
various Islamic sciences: “There are three classes of science: that which has matured (naḍaja) but not
reached its peak (iḥtaraqa), namely uṣūl and naḥw; that which has neither matured nor reached its peak,
namely bayān and tafsīr; and that which has matured and reached its peak, namely fiqh and ḥadīth” (See
Sabt, Qawāʿid al-Tafsīr, 1/6). The two aspects of this metaphor (literally: cooking and scorching) refer to
development of the branches of the science, and its issues being analysed extensively such as to leave
virtually nothing further to investigate.
22 Ṭūfī, Al-Iksīr, pp. 41 and 56.
23Al-Takmīl fī Uṣūl al-Taʾwīl in Iṣlāḥī (ed.), Rasāʾil al-Imām al-Farāhī, pp. 212–214. For more quotes and
a brief history, see Rakītī, Qawāʿid al-Tafsīr, pp. 35–46.
15
the theoretical and applied genres, in that the insights of the mufassirūn can hardly be
found in the uṣūl works.24 The second publication, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī Ārāʾ al-
Mutakhaṣṣiṣīn (2016), is based on a survey of Muslim professors in the field and
includes a bibliography of uṣūl and qawāʿid works (see 1.1 below). This reiterates the
perception that existing works are in need of extensive critique and updating.25 My
survey of works in Chapter 1 will test these conclusions with respect to one specific
area of tafsīr and its uṣūl.
0.3 – Methodology
The nature of this study has required that I draw on a wide range of sources
and utilise them to various ends. As such, I have explained specific methods at the
beginning of chapters, and often within sections. Here I draw attention to a few
overarching aspects. Although I seldom speak in this thesis as a would-be mufassir,
my assumptions about the craft of tafsīr are nevertheless pertinent to my framing of
this study and analysis of the exegetes’ output. Moreover, though my goal is to present
an account which is relevant to interpreters with different beliefs about the provenance
of the Qurʾān, my study is based – in the first place – upon the traditional framework
as found in the ʿulūm al-Qurʾān literature, broadly conceived. These two issues require
some elaboration.
24 Sulaymān et al, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī l-Muʾallafāt, p. 11. The research for this work was completed by
Master’s students in Al-Azhar and Cairo Universities. See p. 112 for a summary of the problems in
definition. The section on intraquranic tafsīr (p. 179 ff.) outlines the common topics addressed by the
uṣūl works, and then breaks down the “types of TQQ” they describe, ranked by popularity.
25 Sulaymān et al, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī Ārāʾ al-Mutakhaṣṣiṣīn, pp. 88–90. Respondents tended to agree on the
importance of Ibn Taymiyya’s Muqaddima along with the recent contributions of Musāʿid al-Ṭayyār, a
leading figure in Markaz Tafsīr. They also tended to emphasise the significance of Zarkashī and Suyūṭī
in the ʿulūm al-Qurʾān genre, along with the introduction to Ṭabarī’s exegesis. Among Ṭayyār’s works are
commentaries upon Ṭabarī, Ibn Taymiyya and Suyūṭī.
26 See 3.3 below for what I have termed the Principle of Interpretability.
16
concerned, the only appearance of the word tafsīr in its pages (Q 25:33) is to describe
divine responses to contentions directed at the Prophet. On this basis, I consider it
appropriate to use this term similarly for human answers to well-meaning questions:
hence the exegete’s task is to attain clarity by resolving questions which he or she
either receives or conceives.
Numerous views have been advanced classically concerning the definition of
tafsīr and its distinction, if any, from taʾwīl.27 It is of little use to insist on definitions
which do not reflect the practices of the mufassirūn, whose output reflects a wide range
of concerns and analytical methods applied to and around the text. However, refining
an uṣūl-based approach calls on us to consider how these multifarious materials are
best conceived and categorised. My own preference, at this point in time, is to see the
content of tafsīr works as consisting of three stages of analysis: pre-text, text, and post-
text. Pre-text exegesis is the effort to situate a verse in its societal and textual contexts,
thus identifying its background and reference. Text exegesis is linguistic analysis of
words and structures, which may well occur before or alongside the pre-text analysis.
Post-text exegesis, which depends on the previous two stages, seeks after implications,
rulings and guidance derived from the text once understood in context. Whereas some
scholars would consider this beyond the domain of tafsīr (and class it otherwise as
istinbāṭ and/or tadabbur28), it may also be considered the very purpose of tafsīr and
thus rightly included in works of exegesis.
Returning to the concept of communication, the next question is how the
Qurʾān is to be received by readers coming long after the event of revelation. Based
on what I have outlined above, tafsīr would not end with the first generation, though
they may be privileged in answering certain types of question. Nevertheless, new and
different questions will be asked as time and societies progress. This entails that tafsīr
27 See for example Zurqānī, Manāhil al-ʿIrfān, 2/383. The view he attributes to Māturīdī, if it is taken
from his exegesis, is not accurately conveyed. In Māturīdī’s scheme (see Taʾwīlāt al-Qurʾān, 1/3–4), claims
about the original meaning and linguistic interpretation of the verse fall under tafsīr and require a higher
standard of proof because they are attributing a particular intent to God. Taʾwīl, on the other hand,
refers to what I have termed “post-text”: rulings and implications derived from the text. It seems evident
that the latter, too, contains a type of claim about divine intent.
28 Istinbāṭ is the process of deducing rulings (legal or otherwise) from the text. Tadabbur, often translated
as “reflection”, can refer to the various parts of the exegetical process (as used by some of the authors
discussed below), or to reflection on the reality and message of the Qurʾān. Both believers and
unbelievers are exhorted in the following verses to do tadabbur: Q 38:29, 4:82 and 47:24. Recent years
have seen a proliferation of books, projects and organisations aiming to promote tadabbur among Muslim
populations.
17
is an ongoing activity rather than something settled in the distant past. There should
be no objection to renewal (tajdīd) even in the methods of exegesis insofar as such
novel readings do not impute to the earliest Muslims a fundamental inability to
decipher the Qurʾān.29 However, even for believers who assume the eternal relevance
of the Quranic message, a nuanced approach is required when establishing links and
comparisons between present day concerns and the “socio-historical context”30 of the
scripture.
While the Qurʾān speaks to a wide audience and seems to assume their ability
to understand it, practical experience shows that people in general are in need of
clarification and that understanding can progress from basic to deeper levels. This is
where the specialist craft of the mufassir comes in: attempting to speak for God
concerning God’s speech, bridging the aforementioned “gap” and eleborating on
meanings and implications. Interpretation is a skill in which some people specialise to
a greater extent and thereby attain to authority. Nevertheless, tafsīr remains in the
domain of human fallibility. A good interpretation is one which is plausible as
reflecting the communicative intention behind the speech, irrespective of whether it
constitutes, in reality, the “one true meaning”. Indeed, one can reasonably believe that
the Speaker has embedded layers of (complementary) meanings within those words –
and may even have intended for people to reach different conclusions in their search
for the Qurʾān’s guidance.
This brings us to the basic impulse underpinning this research project, namely
the search for methodological order behind the exegetical choices of each author, and
even across the board. Unless it is to be surrendered to individualism, tafsīr must admit
of some principles which guide the mufassir to interpretations which are plausibly
“true”. The same principles may be used to weigh up opinions and adjudicate between
interpreters and their conclusions and methods. At the beginning of the project, I was
driven by the notion of a “process” which could be applied as a series of analytical
29 The Saudi professor Ḥātim al-ʿAwnī makes a traditionalist case for “renewal” in Takwīn Malakat al-
Tafsīr, pp. 13–51. This short work is unusual in encouraging keen students to develop “the mindset of
an exegete” –bolder than the call to individual tadabbur. ʿAwnī classes TQQ alongside use of the Sunna
and opinions of the Salaf among “al-tafsīr bi-l-manqūl” but recommends for students to use these sources
to check the results of a prior attempt to determine meaning solely on the basis of language (ibid, p. 87),
after surveying the broad and proximate context of the verse to be studied (ibid, pp. 70–74). In his
section on TQQ, he recommends gathering relevant verses and noting preliminary ideas about their
relationships and implications before consulting the specialist works of exegesis, etc. (ibid, pp. 91–96).
30 This point is made by Abdullah Saeed, Interpreting the Qurʾān, pp. 116–125.
18
steps and considerations: why can such not be found in books of uṣūl al-tafsīr, ready
for implementation? I have since come to see the desideratum as more complex than a
linear process, yet still subject to the kind of systematisation which can empower the
exegete to take all relevant factors into consideration. Moreover, though I began with
a sense that TQQ was one source or step in a process, I have come to appreciate that it
is both multifaceted and connected within a wider tafsīr system which I hope to explore
further in future. The individual exegetes, therefore, may be seen as giving more
weight to specific parts of that system, such as transmitted opinions (maʾthūr), or sūra
structure and flow (naẓm). It may prove to be the case that approaches to interpreting
the Qurʾān are not all commensurable, in that they stem from differing theologies and
commitments; yet I see potential in bringing different approaches ‘face to face’, even
if that is only achieved in this thesis to a limited extent.
Just as there are different approaches to tafsīr, there are different things which
could be intended by “intraquranic” exegesis. At some points, I have used a broader
concept which includes any explanation of a verse with reference to the Qurʾān itself,
even if that be the surrounding verses or alternative readings of the same verse. I had
considered organising this thesis around the proximity principle, starting from
immediate co-text and extending to verses found anywhere in the Quranic corpus.31 In
a significant sense, TQQ is always an appeal to context. However, my primary focus
is upon interactions between separate pieces of text, i.e. independent verses which may
be in the same or separate sūras. The case study in Chapter 2 reflects this emphasis
clearly with its focus on the exegetes’ citations of verses in the course of explaining
Sūrat al-Anʿām. Though the proximate and wider Quranic context are both justifiably
described as TQQ, it is also justifiable to study these two aspects of contextual reading
separately; I have opted to discuss both while giving greater attention to the latter.
32 Saleh makes a pointed criticism of “haughty indifference” towards Arabic secondary literature, which
is commonly presumed to lack analytical rigour (‘Preliminary Remarks on the Historiography of tafsīr
in Arabic,’ p. 17). By the same token, one may observe an under-appreciation in the Arab world of the
most recent insights by Western scholars, even (or especially) Western Muslims.
Rather than discrediting the authors – who are nevertheless human and fallible – a ‘creative conflict’
33
mentality (see 4.3.2 below) can pave the way to improving on their contributions.
20
material under this broad genre, much of which remains largely unexplored in studies
of this type, the main response to this concern can be found in the above-quoted
descriptions of tafsīr as a “catch-all” genre and the likes of al-Burhān and al-Itqān as
“summas” of classical Quranic sciences. Not only do these works gather the
discussions of linguists, theologians, traditionists, jurists and the like, but their authors
were linguists, theologians, traditionists and jurists. That being so, I am confident that
the selected approach allows for the best insights to be gleaned from the breadth of
Islamic scholarship pertaining to the Qurʾān. Nevertheless, certain discussions below
(e.g. theories in Chapter 3) draw from major scholars outside the realm of exegesis,
and I have directed particular attention to the field of uṣūl al-fiqh (see 4.1), which itself
has a noted relationship with ʿilm al-kalām.
Naturally, the goal of breadth in the topics and genres consulted has come at
the expense of depth in any of those specific areas. I could have opted to study one
exegete, or tackle intraquranic lexicology alone, for example. However, it was the lack
of connectivity and cohesion between these topics, scattered in a variety of books and
debates, which motivated me to approach tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān
comprehensively and holistically. I hope the reader will find that I have remained
focused on the purpose of including the various topics, providing enough detail to
establish the relevance of each theory, method, person or book to the central concern
of this thesis.
For translation of the Qurʾān, I have generally used Abdel Haleem’s The
Qur’an: A New Translation. When citing other translations, I have indicated this in a
footnote or included the name in the reference bracket.
confessional scholarship.34 In some cases, it is the extent to which these features are
present, or the combination of the various features, which is original.
- Analysing one approach across a wide range of sources, rather than studying
various methods of a single exegete, for example.
34 See 1.4 below regarding recent works on intraquranic methods and uṣūl al-tafsīr more broadly.
22
Chapter 1
The Uṣūl Literature
1.0 – Introduction
This chapter assesses the theoretical and methodological approaches of Muslim
scholarship to tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, i.e. exegesis of the Qurʾān using the
Qurʾān (TQQ), with reference to the hermeneutical (uṣūl al-tafsīr) literature. In order
to achieve the most complete picture, I am employing a broad definition and have
included at least three distinct genres in the sections below, spanning classical and
modern periods. The fourth section looks at recent studies of TQQ within a
confessional Muslim context, to summarise where the field has reached at the present
time. Therefore, unlike the recent survey publication Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī l-Muʾallafāt
(Markaz Tafsīr, Riyadh), I have not restricted my focus to works incorporating this
key term in their title; the researchers identified only four pre-modern works meeting
this criterion, then a large spike in publications in the last decade with considerable
overlap in content.1 As noted in the introduction, contemporary specialists consider
the term uṣūl al-tafsīr to be poorly defined and its parameters only vaguely delineated.
The various usages include, as Mawlāy Ḥammād summarises them: the primary
sources (maṣādir) referred to by an exegete; axioms (qawāʿid) which ought to be
observed; and benefits (fawāʾid) to be borne in mind.2 I have, therefore, considered
uṣūl and qawāʿid works to be the same genre in effect, even though the latter –
especially more recent works – may be structured more clearly according to axioms.
Beyond the specificity of the genre as defined by that title, the term occupying
the next level of relevance is ʿulūm al-Qurʾān, i.e. Quranic sciences. Indeed, Mustafa
Shah3 translates the term as “Qurʾānic hermeneutics” and cites the astonishment of the
author of Al-Burhān4 that such a comprehensive work had not been compiled
1Sulaymān et al, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī l-Muʾallafāt, pp. 161, 299. See also the bibliography in Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī
Ārāʾ al-Mutakhaṣṣiṣīn, p. 95 ff.
2Ḥammād, ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, pp. 46–52. The author illustrates the latter usage with reference to
Dihlawī’s al-Fawz al-Kabīr; the edition I am using has “nikāt” (p. 10). Both terms denote salient points
and subtleties which are less systematic than axioms.
3 Shah, Tafsir, 1/51.
4 Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 26.
23
previously, as with the case of ḥadīth sciences. However, a survey of the forty-seven
chapters of this work (labelled by the author as anwāʿ, “types”) and others in the ʿulūm
literature shows that it encompasses various concerns – such as the history of the
Qurʾān and some of its non-linguistic features – that do not serve exegesis. As such, I
take the view that ʿulūm al-Qurʾān is in fact broader than uṣūl al-tafsīr.5 My initial
focus is upon chapters dealing with methods of exegesis and prerequisites of the
exegete. However, many other chapters pertain to exegesis in one way or another, and
those relevant to TQQ will form part of subsequent discussions.
The third type of work is based on inference from exegetical works – the
premise of Chapter 2 of this study. The uṣūl (i.e. sources and methods) employed by a
particular exegete can be taken either from his own account of it, usually within an
introduction, or from statements and application within the exegesis itself. This can be
observed in works addressing manāhij al-mufassirīn, including those which constitute
historiography of tafsīr. I have not drawn from these secondary works unless, as in the
case of Dhahabī’s Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, they include a distinct focus upon
exegetical theory. However, I did include exegetes’ introductions as part of the
theoretical literature. As such, I examined the introductions of Muḥammad b. Jarīr al-
Ṭabarī (d. 310/923), ʿAlī b. Aḥmad al-Wāḥidī (d. 468/1075)6, al-Ḥakīm al-Jishumī (d.
494/1101)7, al-Rāghib al-Iṣfahānī (d. 502/1108), ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq Ibn ʿAṭiyya (d.
541/1146) and Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Qurṭubī (d. 671/1273) and found that none
made any direct reference to this approach to exegesis. I did find relevant passages in
the introductions of Muqātil b. Sulayman and Ibn Juzayy al-Kalbī, which I discuss
below.8
Another genre not included at this point is uṣūl al-fiqh – legal methodology
which includes study of texts and their implications and interactions – despite its noted
overlap with uṣūl al-tafsīr, explored in Chapter 4 particularly. Moreover, since my aim
is to trace the theoretical and methodological treatment of TQQ in Islamic scholarship,
5See ʿAkk, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr wa Qawāʿiduh, p. 42 and Ḥaqqī, ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān min khilāl Muqaddimāt al-Tafāsīr,
1/54.
6See Saleh’s edition of the introduction to Al-Basīṭ in Bauer (ed.), Aims, Methods and Contexts, pp. 67–100.
Wāḥidī’s emphasis in this introduction is on lexicology and grammar.
7 See Mourad’s edition in Bauer (ed.), pp. 101–137. This introduction contains an early mention of
naẓm, referring to the arrangement of āyāt and suwar.
8See section 1.3. Ḥaqqī’s ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān min khilāl Muqaddimāt al-Tafāsīr provides useful summaries of
many. See also Bauer, ‘Justifying the Genre’ in Bauer (ed.), pp. 39–65.
24
I have not paid great attention to scattered statements in tafsīr works to the effect that
passages of the Qurʾān explain each other.9 The fact that the practice of TQQ was
present in early exegesis is also not the concern of this chapter, but will become very
clear in Chapter 2, with examples from Muqātil and Ṭabarī especially.10
9In this connection, brief remarks are found in the commentaries of Zamakhsharī (d. 538/1143): “The
most correct meanings are those denoted by the Qurʾān [itself]” and Rāzī (d. 604/1210): “The verses
of the Qurʾān explain each other” – see Muṭayrī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, pp. 53–55 for these as well
as some post-Taymiyyan quotes. For an earlier attestation of this idea attributed to Saʿīd b. Jubayr (d.
95/714), see Ṭabarī, Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 9/7065, explaining the term mutashābih in Q 39:23.
10See Muṭayrī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, pp. 94–100 for examples from the early generations. See also
Ghazāla, Uṣul al-Tafsīr ʿinda Ibn ʿAbbās, pp. 93–99, and Nawfal, Mujāhid al-Mufassir wa-l-Tafsīr, pp. 371–
373. On Zamakhsharī’s application of the TQQ principle, see Lane, A Traditional Muʿtazilite Commentary,
pp. 118–121, in which he illustrates how an exegete may select explanatory verses to suit the point he
wishes to make (the links being occasionally “arbitrary” and the application “careless”). On Rāzī, see
Kafrawi, Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī’s Methodology, pp. 73–79; the author describes this approach, somewhat
anachronistically, as tafsīr mawḍūʿī.
11Saleh, ‘Ibn Taymiyya and the Rise of Radical Hermeneutics’, p. 125. The treatise’s title was provided
by its eventual publisher, Jamāl al-Shaṭṭī, in 1936. Saleh argues that it had been “inconsequential”
before finding its relevant audience “on the eve of modernity” (‘Historiography’, p. 10). This is in
contrast to Mir’s portrayal of the treatise as “a representative work in the field” (Coherence in the Qur’ān, p.
28). The impact of this treatise on twentieth century works has been documented in Sulaymān et al,
Uṣūl al-Tafsīr fī l-Muʾallafāt (see p. 121 ff.).
12 See Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 1/26, in which a lengthy passage from the Muqaddima is reproduced
without attribution. Ḥaqqī (ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, 2/45) suggests that this was in line with common practice,
especially if the source was direct and clear enough for the intended readership. Roy Curtis makes the
intriguing suggestion that Ibn Taymiyya’s treatise was written for Ibn Kathīr, making him the very
questioner (qāʾil) alluded to in the beginning of the excerpt (Curtis, Authentic Interpretation of Classical Islamic
25
“If one should ask concerning the best methods (aḥsan ṭuruq) of exegesis, then the
answer is that the most correct (aṣaḥḥ) method is for the Qurʾān to be explained using
the Qurʾān; what is left unclear13 in one place has been explained in another, and what
has been made brief in one place has been expanded in another. If you do not find
such, then make recourse to the Sunna, for it explains and clarifies the Qurʾān…”14
Ibn Taymiyya is thus explicit in granting TQQ prime position among methods of tafsīr.
However, as Saleh notes, the lack of examples renders the rule “ineffectual and
vague”.15 Regarding the ordered scheme of exegesis outlined here, I shall discuss
below what may be intended by that; however, it should be noted that Saleh considers
the “novelty” of placing TQQ first to be overshadowed by the treatise’s greater project
which gives the whole stage to explanations received from the Prophet and earliest
generations.16 In the context of the next step, i.e. exegesis from the Sunna, Ibn
Taymiyya quotes Muḥammad b. Idrīs al-Shāfiʿī (d. 204/820) as saying that
“Everything that God’s Messenger ruled came from what he understood from the
Qurʾān”.17 This claim is interesting in the light of some scholars’ characterisation of
TQQ as “the prophetic method”, discussed further in Chapter 3. While Ibn Taymiyya’s
own theoretical emphasis is clearly upon the use of ḥadīths for exegesis rather than the
Qurʾān itself, Ibn Kathīr – inheritor of his teacher’s “radical hermeneutics” – did
incorporate TQQ into his exegesis. 18 As for Suyūṭī’s later work Al-Durr al-Manthūr fī
Texts, pp. 193–194). He further suggests that Ibn Kathīr left the source unstated “for fear of stirring up”
Ibn Taymiyya’s critics (ibid, p. 76), though this is in tension with Curtis’ interpretation of this citation as
a “religio-political statement” of alignment with Ibn Taymiyya (ibid, p. 253).
13 I have adopted this translation for “mā ujmila” in preference to Saleh’s “elliptical” and McAuliffe’s
“summarily expressed”; these may have been influenced by the common distinction between ijmāl and
tafṣīl, i.e. summary and detail. My rendering takes account of the diverse types or causes of ijmāl
enumerated by Zarkashī (Al-Burhān, pp. 359–361) and expanded by Shinqīṭī (see 1.3 below). Suyūṭī
defined the mujmal as “mā lam tattaḍiḥ dalālatuh” (Al-Itqān, 4/1426). See Chapters 3 and 4 below.
14Ibn Taymiyya, Muqaddima fī Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, p. 93. Translation is mine; see also McAuliffe, ‘Ibn
Taymiyya: Treatise on the Principles of Tafsīr’.
15 Saleh, ‘Ibn Taymiyya,’ p. 145. Curtis (Authentic Interpretation, p. 265) attributes the brevity to the
intended scholarly audience of the treatise. Medoff (Ijtihad and Renewal in Qur’anic Hermeneutics, p. 33)
describes this as an “afterthought”, though “prethought” might be more apt!
16Indeed, he shows that the first two steps are made to amount to little (‘Ibn Taymiyya’, pp. 149–50).
The passage can also be read as describing the whole sequence of steps as the “most correct method”.
As Curtis observes, the description contains an implicit recognition of the “fallibility” of this method
(Authentic Interpretation, p. 199), in that one may need to look beyond.
17 Ibn Taymiyya, Muqaddima, p. 93. The author does not cite the source of Shāfiʿī’s statement; the editors
of Al-Itqān (6/2274) say that a similar wording is found his Al-Risāla (see p. 32), but that is quite different
(cf. pp. 91–93). Suyūṭī appended a small explanation to Ibn Taymiyya’s citation of Q 4:105, to the effect
that Muḥammad was to judge based on what God showed him “in other verses” (Al-Itqān, 6/2274).
18 Dhahabī, Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 1/212. Saleh argues that Ibn Kathīr’s adoption of “radical
hermeneutics” was incomplete (‘Ibn Taymiyya’, p. 153); an alternative would be to say that his work is
one demonstration of the theory in action, while still retaining the features of a full exegesis. See also
26
Mirza, ‘Was Ibn Kathīr the ‘Spokesperson’ for Ibn Taymiyya?’ – he argues that this work was “less a
product of his relationship with Ibn Taymiyya than a result of the larger struggle in the history of Islamic
theology and hermeneutics between traditionalism and rationalism” (p. 11).
19 The same applies to the recent encyclopaedia in twenty-four volumes, Mawsūʿat al-Tafsīr al-Maʾthūr, a
project overseen by Musāʿid al-Ṭayyār. The introduction (1/108) is explicit in attributing the “error” of
including the Qurʾān among narrative sources to Zurqānī and Dhahabī (see below). Al-Durr al-Manthūr
was based on Suyūṭī’s earlier work Turjumān al-Qurʾān after removing the isnāds (see editor’s introduction
to Al-Durr, 1/7). While Saleh speaks of Suyūṭī’s “alliance to Ibn Taymiyya’s radical hermeneutical
paradigm” (‘Historiography,’ p. 24; see also p. 32), this is undermined by Suyūṭī’s mention of another
planned exegesis entitled Majmaʿ al-Baḥrayn wa Maṭlaʿ al-Badrayn, which he described as encompassing
many aspects of traditional exegesis, and for which Al-Itqān was to serve as introduction (Al-Durr, 1/6).
See Shabir Ally, The Culmination of Tradition-Based Tafsīr, pp. 60–61. Ally argues that Suyūṭī used Al-Durr
to challenge some of the approaches expressed by Ibn Taymiyya and implemented by Ibn Kathīr (ibid,
pp. 7–10).
20 Dihlawī, Al-Fawz al-Kabīr, pp. 99–101.
21 For this explanation, see the editor’s introduction to Farāhī’s Mufradāt al-Qurʾān, p. 28. See also
Exordium to Coherence in the Quran, pp. 13–30; under the second principle (tafsīr al-āyāt bi-l-āyāt), Farāhī cites
the passage discussed previously from Suyūṭī (based on Ibn Taymiyya) and criticises the exegetes’ use of
weak and contradictory ḥadīth reports.
22In Rasāʾil al-Imām al-Farāhī, pp. 214, 225, 234. Al-Takmīl has been published in this volume along with
the author’s Dalāʾil al-Niẓām, Asālīb al-Qurʾān and miscellaneous notes.
27
ḥadīth.23 As such, a single passage can have only one correct interpretation, and that
can be derived by applying a sound method based on structural coherence.24 The
following quote illustrates his approach to TQQ as an established discipline in the
tafsīr tradition:
The scholars have said long ago that parts of the Qurʾān explain other parts, because
that is very obvious: the Qurʾān mentions things in a variety of ways, sometimes brief
and at other times in detail; what is left out in one place is mentioned in another.
Indeed, the Qurʾān has affirmed this attribute within it in various places, so it is a
firmly-established principle. However, the principle has seldom been applied, which
is because the methods of deriving meanings are limitless. Hence one verse may
contain a meaning which constitutes evidence for a meaning in another verse; or the
juxtaposition of two verses or sentences may bring to light a somewhat concealed
meaning. Therefore, if we should clarify these ways through which meaning is derived
(ṭuruq al-dalālāt), that would facilitate the application of this principle.25
The remainder of his short treatise consists of various ṭuruq and uṣūl which suffer from
some poor organisation and gaps as the author died before completing it. In these
sections, there are further elaborations of TQQ as in the above quote, in which he
defines the role of “parallels” (naẓāʾir) with examples26, along with the role of context
in solving ijmāl.27 The following list, appended to Al-Takmīl by the editor from
Farāhī’s notes28, provides a useful summary of his methodology:
a. The Qurʾān, being divine speech, does not contradict itself, so it should be
interpreted in that light.
b. The Qurʾān is explicit that its equivocal (mutashābih) texts should be referred to
the univocal (muḥkam), so whatever is established with certainty is made a
definitive basis.29
c. We derive our principles (uṣūl) from reason and the Qurʾān – this is the supreme
principle.
d. We do not diverge from the apparent meanings (ẓāhir) of the Qurʾān based on
weak evidence; rather, the apparent meaning is considered a proof.
e. Where there are multiple possibilities, we opt for the best and most suited to the
structure (niẓām) and central theme (ʿamūd [lit: pillar]).
While studying works of Farāhī such as Al-Takmīl and his exegesis itself, it is
both evident and disappointing that they were published without being completed by
the author. However, the mantle of his hermeneutical school was taken on by Amīn
Aḥsan Iṣlāḥī (d. 1997) who compiled a complete Urdu exegesis entitled Tadabbur-i-
Qur’ān30, which he prefaced with a detailed introduction expounding and adapting his
teacher’s methodology. Dividing his sources of exegesis into internal and external, the
former is said to consist of: (a) Quranic Arabic as conveyed in pre-Islamic poetry;31
(b) “coherence” (naẓm), upon which he elaborates;32 (c) explaining the Qurʾān through
the Qurʾān.33 Adducing Quranic evidence for the latter, Iṣlāḥī cites Q 39:23 concerning
the book’s arrangement and style of repetition, as well as the concept of taṣrīf (see e.g.
Q 17:41, 89 for this term) i.e. variation as opposed to vain repetition. According to
Iṣlāḥī, “A subject rehearsed frequently in the Qurʾān is, in each case, placed in a
different background and context. In each case, the textual sequence, bearings and
circumstance are different, conveying a unique sense in its particular textual
environment.”34 Concerning questions of vocabulary and style, he states that his
commentary depends primarily upon the Qurʾān, being “the most reliable authority on
the linguistic, literary and grammatical features surrounding its text,” adding that “all
eminent scholars, past and present, admit this”.35
Coming back to the Taymiyyan strand, Khalid ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-ʿAkk’s
(d. 1999) Uṣūl al-Tafsīr wa Qawāʿiduh reproduces Ibn Taymiyya’s scheme without
attribution, together with the claim of ijmāʿ (consensus).36 He then says (like Dhahabī,
30Partial translations are available online at www.tadabbur-i-quran.org; see also Khan, Understanding the
Qurʾān, pp. 31–69. Two volumes (until the end of Q 3) were published by the Islamic Book Trust as
Pondering Over the Qur’ān, before the death of the translator, Mohammad Saleem Kayani, in 2016.
31 Iṣlāḥī, Pondering Over the Qur’ān Vol. 1, p. 25.
32 Pondering, 1/29. As with Farāhī’s “niẓām”, I am reproducing the translation for naẓm provided by
Kayani and others, notably Mustansir Mir in his Coherence in the Qur’ān. See 4.4.3 below re: usages and
translations of these terms.
33 Pondering, 1/41.
34Pondering, 1/41. I describe this approach as “pluralist”, in contrast to “reductionist” conflation of
passages which are verbally similar.
35 Pondering, 1/42. A recent work which I was unable to include in this study is Subḥānī’s Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-
Taḥbīr fī Usūl al-Tafsīr, which is based on Farāhian ideas and argues for the naẓm approach while
critiquing more mainstream methods and assumptions. His chapter on cross-referential TQQ includes
critiques of its “superficial” treatment in the theoretical works as well as Adwāʾ al-Bayān by Shinqīṭī (pp.
107–117). Another central point of his chapter is the defence of the whole Qurʾān as qaṭʿī al-dalāla, i.e.
definitive in its denotation of meanings (ibid, pp. 122–134).
36 ʿAkk, Uṣūl al-Tafsīr wa Qawāʿiduh, p. 79.
29
see below) that an exegete must look carefully and analytically to gather and compare
all verses upon a theme; if he does not do so, then he would be guilty of interpreting
according to his opinion (raʾy).37 Elsewhere, he notes that the Prophet himself
explained the Qurʾān through the Qurʾān, making TQQ “the most worthy method of
tafsīr”.38 A later section seems to depend even more upon Dhahabī’s presentation and
examples39, except that on the matter of multiple readings (qirāʾāt), the author refers
the reader to Al-Kashf by Makkī b. Abī Ṭālib al-Qaysī (d. 437/1045) and thus limits
the focus to canonical readings. Although ʿAkk does not distinguish clearly between
uṣūl and qawāʿid, his treatment of the latter shows clear influence of uṣūl al-fiqh
categories.40
37“Interpreting by opinion” has been condemned in sayings attributed to the Prophet and early
authorities. For discussion of these traditions and their reception, see Birkeland, ‘Old Muslim
Opposition Against Interpretation of the Koran’.
38Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, p. 33 note 1. This idea (“al-nahj al-nabawī”) is also promoted by Qaraḍāwī, Kayfa
Nataʿāmal maʿ al-Qurʾān, p. 221.
39 Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, pp. 115–116.
40 See Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, p. 265 ff.
41 See Shah (ed.), Tafsir, Introduction 1/51–52. See also Ḥaqqī, ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, 1/147–164 for
discussion of claims regarding the first work in ʿulūm al-Qurʾān, which the author concludes to be
Muḥāsibī’s Fahm al-Qurʾān.
42 Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, pp. 331–362. I used a single-volume edition, which is unusual for this work.
43 Al-Burhān, pp. 335–339.
30
account, which may lead us to question Zarkashī’s own commitment to the idea as
expressed in those terms.44
On the other hand, there are indications scattered in the chapter which amount
to a description of TQQ, even though the author does not make that link explicit. I
summarise these as follows:
a. How clarification (bayān) may be found via co-text, whether preceding or
following.45
b. How such can be found in a separate passage altogether. The author first
discusses the word ẓulm in Q 6:82 and 31:13, then provides numerous other
examples.46 Likewise, how ambiguity in an expression can be eliminated with
reference to other verses (with several examples).47 There are further examples
at the end of the chapter.48
c. Gathering relevant verses to complete an account, e.g. in inheritance.49
d. Comparing passages lest their interpretations contradict.50
e. The importance of context, such that Q 44:49 is understood as debasement,
even though its wording indicates praise. Zarkashī describes context as “among
the greatest indicators of the speaker’s intent”.51 Elsewhere, he describes the
role of context in defining Quranic vocabulary, as demonstrated particularly by
al-Rāghib.52
The next work to consider is the seminal Al-Itqān fī ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān by Jalāl
al-Dīn al-Suyūṭī (d. 911/1505), which in fact adds very little to the account of TQQ.
He adopted materials from the aforementioned chapter of the Burhān along with its
introduction and distributed those discussions into Chapters 77-79 of the Itqān.53 There
44The same observation is made by Öztürk, ‘Kur’an’ın Kur’an’la Tefsiri: Bir Mahiyet Soruşturması’, p. 4; I am
grateful to Dr Nimet Seker for this reference.
45 Al-Burhān, pp. 348–349. See 3.4.1 below.
46 Al-Burhān, pp. 348, 350–353. See 4.1.1 below.
47 Al-Burhān, pp. 353–354.
48 Al-Burhān, p. 362.
49 Al-Burhān, pp. 354–355.
50 Al-Burhān, pp. 356–357.
51 Al-Burhān, p. 355.
Al-Burhān, p. 343. See Chapter 4 for brief points on lexicography and the role of context, as in the
52
54 Al-Itqān, 6/2274.
55The editors of Al-Ziyāda wa-l-Iḥsān (7/410, note 3) have identified this as Taysīr al-Bayān fī Tafsīr al-
Qurʾān, which is apparently unpublished.
56 Al-Itqān, 6/2294–2297. The list can be found similarly structured in Kāfiyajī, Al-Taysīr fī Qawāʿid ʿIlm
al-Tafsīr, pp. 50–51, as well as scattered in other sources including Rāghib’s tafsīr introduction and
Zarkashī’s Burhān.
57I have sufficed here with chapters from the Itqān because it has incorporated (with adjustments) the
topics of the Burhān.
58 See 2.5 and 4.3.3 below.
32
meaning – would constitute TQQ. This applies to the later exegetical practice of
harmonising the variant readings of a single verse as far as possible with a pluralist
or reductionist strategy. It can also apply to the early process of arguing (iḥtijāj)
for a particular reading with reference to parallels (naẓāʾir) in the rest of the
Qurʾān.
§ 39: Wujūh wa Naẓāʾir (polysemy).59 When a particular word appears in multiple
contexts in the Qurʾān, it may have more than one meaning. Any linkage or
contrast with a word’s meaning at another juncture is a form of TQQ, as is the
process of determining the meaning of a particular occurrence from its immediate
context. This chapter also describes the phenomenon often known as kulliyyāt,
which provides a shorthand for identifying the meaning of a particular term on the
basis of generalisations and exceptions.
§ 40: Adawāt (grammatical instruments). The rules pertaining to their usage and
meanings are derived, at least in part, from their usages in the Qurʾān: hence this
chapter is related to the concepts of wujūh/naẓāʾir and kulliyyāt described above.
§ 42: Qawāʿid (axioms). This chapter, too, includes material along the lines of
wujūh/naẓāʾir and kulliyyāt.
§ 43: Muḥkam wa Mutashābih (univocal vs. equivocal).60 This chapter discusses the
need to interpret certain verses in light of others which are clearer and thus
‘primary’, as alluded to in Q 3:7.
§ 45: ʿĀmm wa Khāṣṣ (universal vs. particular).61 These are textual categories in uṣūl
al-fiqh, and one verse is frequently said to particularise (takhṣīṣ) the ruling
expressed in another.
§ 46: Mujmal wa Mubayyan (unclear vs. clarified). The concept of ijmāl has already
been mentioned and will be further discussed in Chapters 3 and 4.
§ 47: Nāsikh wa Mansūkh (abrogating vs. abrogated).62 If some verses of the Qurʾān
are considered to abrogate others which remain between its covers, then knowledge
of this type of textual interaction is essential. In essence, it means that some verses
are ‘interpreted’ to be void in effect.
59See under 4.2.2. Chapters 39, 40 and 42 of Al-Itqān are included in my annotated translation of The
Perfect Guide Vol. 2 (Garnet, forthcoming).
60 See 3.3.1.
61 See 4.1.2.
62 See 2.4 and 3.2.2.
33
It may be said that the first broad-based ʿulūm al-Qurʾān work to take a fresh
approach after the Itqān was Manāhil al-ʿIrfān by Muḥammad ʿAbd al-ʿAẓīm al-
Zurqānī (d. 1948), a key author in the Egyptian-Azharite approach to Quranic studies.
According to Saleh, this work was the first to use al-tafsīr bi-l-maʾthūr “as an
analytical descriptive term”, thereby sealing the dominance of Ibn Taymiyya’s
hermeneutical paradigm in modern times.67 Zurqānī defines this type of tafsīr as “that
which appears in the Qurʾān, Sunna or the statements of Companions by way of
clarification of God’s intended meaning in His book”. He then provides several
examples of each kind, and states that the method underlying TQQ is pondering
(tadabbur) upon the Qurʾān. After providing examples of tafsīr from the Sunna,
Zurqānī says: “Both of these types are undoubtedly authoritative (lā shakka fī qabūlih).
In the former case [i.e. TQQ], this is because God knows better than anyone else what
He means, and the most truthful speech is God’s book.”68 I shall discuss this claim and
supporting arguments below. However, the author appears to forget this most
authoritative method (or both of them) when enumerating the three categories of
“praiseworthy tafsīr”, namely (a) explanations of the Companions and Followers; (b)
exegeses depending solely upon authentic narrations from them; (c) exegeses which
combine narrations with sound opinions derived from reason, most common in the
modern era.69
Following in the Azharite trend, the historiography by Muḥammad Ḥusayn
al-Dhahabī (d. 1977) entitled Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn took the ideas of Manāhil al-
ʿIrfān and made them even more in line with Ibn Taymiyya, as Saleh argues.70 Dhahabī
presents TQQ in the context of sources (maṣādir) relied upon by the Companions in
their interpretations, namely the Qurʾān, the Prophet, their reasoning, and the People
of the Book.71 Elaborating on the first, he starts by pointing out that the style of the
Qurʾān includes scattered verses which explain or expand upon each other, or restrict
and qualify each other. As such, the indispensable first step taken by an exegete is to
gather and compare all verses upon a theme, before moving onto other stages of tafsīr.
The author justifies this with a general statement in the spirit of Zurqānī’s above: “The
speaker is most knowledgeable of the meanings of his speech”.72 He then provides
examples from each of the types listed, namely mūjaz (concise references), mujmal,
muṭlaq and ʿāmm – the latter three being categories in uṣūl al-fiqh. It is noteworthy in
the case of interpreting unqualified (muṭlaq) texts in the light of the qualified that he
refers to the opinion of “most Shāfiʿī scholars” who fully accept this manoeuvre,
because there is a well-known disagreement between the juristic schools on the issue. 73
Such debates within uṣūl al-fiqh would naturally impact upon any attempt to develop
a generalised hermeneutics on its basis.
Dhahabī then speaks briefly about reconciling verses which appear to conflict,
such as the various accounts of the material from which Adam was created. Finally,
he discusses the use of qirāʾāt, but all the examples he provides are of non-canonical
recitations and therefore not considered Qurʾān by Muslim consensus; as such, their
inclusion in the discussion of TQQ is erroneous.74 This is underlined by his conclusion
that such alternative words and additional phrases were written by the Companions
alongside the Qurʾān by way of tafsīr, and later confused for narrations of recitation.75
He does not discuss the role of canonical (i.e. mutawātir) recitations. As Zurqānī
before him, Dhahabī presents TQQ as the first type of “al-tafsīr al-maʾthūr”76 and goes
on to say that such exegesis – along with that based on authentic Sunna – ought to be
“universally accepted, because such cannot be affected by weakness or doubt.”77 This
is in stark contrast to his earlier description of TQQ as a specialist activity: “It is not
an automated process devoid of the need for thought; rather, it is an action built upon
a large measure of reflection and reasoning.”78
Mabāḥith fī ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān by Ṣubḥī Ṣāliḥ (d. 1986) has a sub-chapter
entitled: “Parts of the Qurʾān Explain Each Other”, a feature which Ṣāliḥ says is
integral to Quranic stylistics and reflects the scripture’s “precision and
comprehensiveness”. The aspects he discusses – manṭūq/mafhūm, ʿāmm/khāṣṣ,
mujmal/mubayyan, naṣṣ/ẓāhir – come from uṣūl al-fiqh, but the author insists that they
are not the preserve of the uṣūl or the kalām scholars but may be studied from a
74See Khalīfa, Dirāsāt fī Manāhij al-Mufassirīn, pp. 58–61. It should be noted that some important books
in the Azharī curriculum do not reach publishers and the public; I acquired them in my time as an
undergraduate student in the Faculty of Theology.
75 Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 1/40. This is in reference to additions conflicting with the ʿUthmānic
recension. Suyūṭī describes these as being like the mudraj (insertion) in ḥadīth terminology (Al-Itqān,
2/506–508).
76 Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 1/137. The subtle difference between their terminologies (“narrated
exegesis” vs. “exegesis by narrations”) could be put to use, but the authors have used them
synonymously.
77 Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 1/140.
78 Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 1/40. Muḥammad Abū Zahra noted that while Ibn Taymiyya forbade
exegesis using opinion (raʾy), his first stage of exegesis (i.e. TQQ) “most certainly is a type of raʾy and
ijtihād” (Al-Muʿjiza al-Kubrā, p. 598). Abū Zahra himself placed Prophetic ḥadīth at the top of his hierarchy
(ibid, p. 586).
36
linguistic and literary perspective.79 As for the work by Mannāʿ al-Qaṭṭān (d. 1999)
by the same title, he counts “starting first with the Qurʾān” as one of the conditions of
an exegete, 80 and goes on to insist that al-tafsīr bi-l-maʾthūr is the only type
acceptable.81
In the Qurʾān there is… equivocal (mutashābih) and univocal (muḥkam); explicated
(mufassar) and vague (mubham); implicit (iḍmār) and explicit (tamām); otiose (ṣilāt)
parts of speech82; abrogating (nāsikh) and abrogated (mansūkh); that which is brought
forward (taqdīm) or delayed (taʾkhīr); polysemes (ashbāh) with many aspects of
meaning (wujūh); and a response [to a question etc., found] in another sūra.83
79Ṣāliḥ, Mabāḥith fī ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, pp. 299–300. Not all the juristic categories he mentions under this
heading are directly relevant to TQQ.
80 Qaṭṭān, Mabāḥith fī ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, p. 301. His wording appears to be Ibn Taymiyya’s via Suyūṭī.
81 Qaṭṭān, Mabāḥith, p. 320.
82 Goldfeld takes this to mean “connection between [nonsequential] sentences”, and his interpretation
varies from mine in several other ways (‘Development of Theory,’ pp. 23–26). He numbers the rules
provided here as thirty-two, stating that Muqātil adopted twenty of these from Jewish precepts. He
compares the notion of “jawāb fī sūratin ukhrā” (which he translates: “continuation in different chapter”)
with Rabbi Eli’ezer’s “complementation of Tora verse by other Biblical verse” (p. 26; see also p. 8). I
suggest the concept of jawāb is more evocative of the Quranic verse 25:33, which, in its context, implies
that responses to the unbelievers may be scattered in the scripture, and thus even separated from the
citation of their questions and challenges.
83 Tafsīr Muqātil, 1/22.
37
It was noted previously that Ibn Kathīr incorporated a significant portion from
Ibn Taymiyya’s Muqaddima into his own exegetical introduction, including the
description of TQQ as “best”. A comparable passage from an Andalusian
contemporary of Ibn Taymiyya is found in the introduction to Al-Tas-hīl li-ʿUlūm al-
Tanzīl by Ibn Juzayy al-Kalbī (d. 741/1357). He describes the process by which some
earlier exegetical opinions are made preponderant over others (tarjīḥ)84, placing at the
head of this list:
To explain parts of the Qurʾān with reference to others: hence, if one juncture indicates
the intended meaning at another, we interpret it accordingly and take the
corresponding opinion as preponderant over others.85
However, the author does not state that there is any sense of priority in how the list is
ordered. The sixth item is for an interpretation to be supported by the preceding and
following co-text. He also alludes to the rules governing the uṣūl al-fiqh categories
outlined previously, stating that preference is given to opinions which retain the
universality (ʿumūm) and unqualified nature (iṭlāq) of texts unless there is evidence to
the contrary.86 Ibn Juzayy also provides a list of twelve sciences pertinent to tafsīr,
which predates the list of fifteen qualifications presented by Suyūṭī. In this list, he
includes: the multiple readings, insofar as they add to meaning; knowledge of
abrogation, on which he elaborates later; and uṣūl al-fiqh.87
Another significant introduction is provided by Burhān al-Dīn al-Biqāʿī (d.
885/1480) to his unique work Naẓm al-Durar, which focuses on the contextual flow
and relevance (munāsabāt) between phrases, verses and sūras. 88 As noted previously,
the appeal to co-textual cues is, prima facie, a way of using the Qurʾān to interpret the
Qurʾān; however, it is less clear as a form of TQQ when the exegete’s reasoning
remains implicit. Rather, the process is often reduced to justifying the juxtaposition of
84Some recent works have focused on these processes, adding another sub-genre to uṣūl al-tafsīr. One
such study has shown that Rāzī used the TQQ principle extensively when adjudicating between
exegetical opinions (Rūmī, Dirāsāt fī Qawāʿid al-Tarjīḥ, pp. 314–370).
85 Al-Tas-hīl li-ʿUlūm al-Tanzīl, p. 10.
86 Al-Tas-hīl, p. 11.
87 Al-Tas-hīl, pp. 7–8. See Schwarb, ‘Capturing,’ pp. 115–117.
88 I did not include Biqāʿī in the case study of Chapter 2 because he does not use cross-references
extensively: see Khan, Understanding the Qurʾān, p. 158.
38
meanings in the sequence of verses.89 Biqāʿī makes reference to the critique which was
levelled against this process by ʿIzz al-Dīn Ibn ʿAbd al-Salām (d. 660/1262):90
The science of munāsaba is a fine one, but the prerequisite for connectedness of
speech is that it occur in a single structure with its beginning connected with the end.
If it occurs in a variety of [contextual] causes, then there is no presumption of one item
being consonant with another. Thus whoever seeks to connect the two has taken on a
task which cannot be fulfilled except with flimsy [hypotheses] which ought to be
avoided in reference to any fine speech, let alone the very finest. The Qurʾān was
revealed over a period of twenty-odd years with various rulings (aḥkām) and [in
response to] a variety of causes (asbāb), and such cannot then be connected together.
Having cited this via Al-Burhān, Biqāʿī then reproduces a quote from Zarkashī’s
teacher, Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Manfalūṭī (d. 774/1372) to the effect that: although
verses were revealed in response to various events, they were placed in order according
to divine wisdom (ḥikma, tawqīf), in accordance with their prior structure in the
Concealed Writ (al-kitāb al-maknūn).91
The following authors are exegetes of the twentieth century. The first,
Muḥammad al-Amīn al-Shinqīṭī (d. 1972 CE), took TQQ as his explicit
methodology without proposing a novel theory. In his introduction to Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān,
he cites “the scholarly consensus” that TQQ is the best form of exegesis and echoes
Zurqānī by stating: “None better knows the meaning of the book of God than God.”92
The following is summarised and rearranged from Shinqīṭī’s detailed account of the
types of ijmāl for which the Quranic bayān is presented in his book; the list appears to
be a description after the fact of his exegesis, but could provide a basis to develop
aspects of methodology:93
a. Solving homonymy (ishtirāk) of nouns, verbs or particles; appealing to the
dominant Quranic usage to understand a word in a specific verse; or explaining
a word by a clearer one elsewhere. Explaining a term with reference to a
89 This criticism applies more to the likes of Rāzī than Biqāʿī, for whom the connections have a greater
bearing on understanding the intent of each verse. Farāhī made a distinction between the concept of
tanāsub and the broader theory of naẓm: see Mir, Coherence, pp. 32–33.
90Naẓm al-Durar, 1/6. The exegete Shawkānī later made a similar critique with specific reference to
Biqāʿī: see Abdul-Raof, Consonance in the Qurʾān, p. 28.
91 See Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 42. The term “al-kitāb al-maknūn” alludes to Q 56:78; see Chapter 3 for
discussion of this and related verses.
92 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 6.
93 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, pp. 7–15.
39
scholars, jurists, theologians, philosophers and mystics.98 Since the Qurʾān describes
itself as “a clarification (tibyān) of all things” (16:89)99, he argues, it is necessarily the
best resource for its own explication. To strengthen this point, Ṭabāṭabāʾī repurposes
the maʾthūr/raʾy dichotomy in a subtle fashion. First, he claims that all or most
exegesis narrated from the Prophet and the Shīʿite imāms was of the intraquranic
type,100 describing this as “the oldest inherited (maʾthūr) approach”.101 Later, he
provides a definition for tafsīr bi-l-raʾy which encompasses everything that departs
from the apparent sense (ẓāhir) of the Qurʾān by drawing on external sources. After
discussing the various narrations from Prophet Muḥammad prohibiting the use of raʾy
in interpreting the Qurʾān, Ṭabāṭabāʾī concludes:
What has been forbidden is only autonomy (istiqlāl) in Quranic exegesis and
exegetical self-reliance (iʿtimād al-mufassir ʿalā nafsih) without referring to
something else. It follows that it is incumbent (wājib) to seek aid from and refer to
another. This “other” must either be the Book or the Sunna; if we say it is the Sunna
then this contradicts the Qurʾān and the Sunna themselves which command us to refer
to [the Qurʾān] and take it as the standard for evaluating reports (akhbār). For
reference and aid in tafsīr the only remaining possibility is the Qurʾān itself.102
98 Al-Mīzān, 1/8–10.
99Ali Quli Qara’i translation. The author gathers more verses upon this meaning in his discussion of Q
3:7 – see Al-Mīzān 3/37–79 for his thorough study of its concepts.
100Al-Mīzān, 1/14–15. Ṭabāṭabāʾī also insists that the opinions of fallible Companions of the Prophet
are both contradictory and unauthoritative in principle (ibid, p. 16).
101 Al-Mīzān, 1/17, and see Medoff, p. 49.
102 Al-Mīzān, 3/87–89. The translation is adapted from Medoff, pp. 41–42.
103 See Medoff, p. 22.
104See Medoff, p. 23; see also 3.2 below for further discussion of this verse, given here in the Qara’i
translation.
41
effect that: “Its one part speaks for another (yanṭiqu baʿḍuhu bi-baʿḍ) and one part
testifies (yashhadu) to another.”105
The Egyptian professor ʿĀʾisha ʿAbd al-Raḥmān (known as Bint al-Shāṭiʾ, d.
1998) is known as the first mufassira, i.e. female author of Quranic exegesis. Like her
Indian contemporary Iṣlāḥī, she was explicit in acknowledging a debt to her own
teacher, her husband Amīn al-Khūlī, founder of the literary school (al-madrasa al-
adabiyya) of exegesis. Her development of Khūlī’s methodology is best reflected in
the two volumes in which she expounded on fourteen short sūras of the Qurʾān.106 As
is the case with Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Bint al-Shāṭiʾ employs some original terminology in
describing her approach to TQQ, while also opining that earlier exegetes failed to act
upon the famous dictum: “the Qurʾān explains itself”.107 A methodological outline is
provided in the introduction to the fifth edition of Volume 1;108 I present those points
in summary here with reference to points made elsewhere in her introductions to the
volumes and their editions.
A central concern for Bint al-Shāṭiʾ is to give full authority to the Quranic text and
adjudicate (iḥtikām) the grammatical, exegetical and juristic opinions of the scholars
in light of this authority.115
Finally, a major exegete of the modern era to whom I make frequent reference
despite not being among the TQQ-focused commentaries;116 the relevance here is that
Muḥammad al-Ṭāhir Ibn ʿĀshūr (d. 1973) sounds a note of caution concerning this
approach. In the second of his ten introductions to Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, Ibn ʿĀshūr
discusses the branches of knowledge upon which tafsīr depends. From this he is
explicit in excluding the phenomenon of some verses explaining others (categories
from uṣūl al-fiqh), because “that is [merely] an example of interpreting parts of a
111See Naguib, ‘Bint al-Shāṭiʾ’s Approach,’ pp. 46–48 regarding the historicism inherent to the literary
school and its roots in Muḥammad ʿAbduh’s ideas on the transformative effects of the Qurʾān.
112 These expressions are in Al-Tafsīr al-Bayānī Vol. 1. p. 17.
113 Al-Tafsīr al-Bayānī Vol. 2, p. 8.
114 Al-Tafsīr al-Bayānī Vol. 1, p. 11. The method could be applied to determine the connotations of words
for their first hearers, which would have been affected by how the Qurʾān had used these words in prior
revelations. This chronological aspect is missing from her reductionist argument based on observing that
the form naʿīm is used in the Qurʾān exclusively for delights of the Hereafter: the majority of her fifteen
references (ibid, pp. 214–215) are from later revelations, as she accepts that Sūrat al-Takāthur was the
sixteenth to be revealed (ibid, p. 195). See also Naguib, ‘Bint al-Shāṭiʾ’s Approach,’ pp. 54–55.
115 See Naguib, ‘Bint al-Shāṭiʾ’s Approach,’ pp. 59–60.
116Ibn ʿĀshūr’s exegesis is highly praised by contemporary ʿulamāʾ of different persuasions; it is seen as a
modern work in classical style and bolstered by the personal authority of the writer as imām of the
Zaytūna of Tunisia. My interest in him is as a critical traditionalist, like Maḥmud al-Ālūsī in the previous
century. The work has a particularly linguistic (or bayānī) focus with extensive reference to classical
scholars. It was published between 1956 and 1970 (see Nafi, ‘Ṭāhir ibn ʿĀshūr,’ p. 17) and the absence
of Rashīd Riḍā and Sayyid Quṭb among his sources has been noted with surprise by one researcher
(Abū Ḥassān, Tafsīr al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr 1/152–160).
43
discourse in the light of others”.117 Referring to a quote from Abū ʿAlī al-Fārisī (d.
377/987) to the effect that the Qurʾān is a single unit in which a question (etc.) and its
answer may appear separately118, he remarks:
These words should not be taken as absolute: there may be some Quranic verses which
can be interpreted in the light of others, while some may be independent of others; for
it is not necessarily the case that the meaning intended by a particular verse is
[likewise] intended in all its parallels (naẓāʾir), let alone those which [only] have a
similar theme.119
This quotation raises a core methodological question for TQQ: how is a link between
a pair of verses established and justified? Contrary to the context-scepticism exhibited
by Ibn ʿAbd al-Salām, Ibn ʿĀshūr seems to be making the point that the meaning of
each verse may be better determined by its local co-text, among other factors. The
issue may be framed as a critique of a simplistic, reductionist approach to TQQ by
which all similar verses are assumed to be saying the same. It may equally be argued
that each verse is intended to deliver additional meanings: hence a pluralist approach
to meaning is required.
117Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 1/27. ʿAdnān Zarzūr argues in a similar vein that TQQ represents a stage
prior to exegesis which he terms “al-bayān al-Qurʾānī” (ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān wa Iʿjāzuh, p. 338).
118See Ibn Hishām, Mughnī l-Labīb ʿan Kutub al-Aʿārīb, p. 207. The quote pertains to one explanation for
“Lā uqsimu” (Q 75:1); the example given is Q 15:6, which is “answered” by Q 68:2. Cf. the term jawāb
used by Muqātil, and the related points under (c) in the summary of Shinqīṭī’s account of Quranic bayān,
above. See also 3.1 below.
119 Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 1/27. Pluralistic and reductionist approaches are explored in Chapter 4.
44
and Quranic sciences.120 This work also represents a modern effort to distinguish
between uṣūl and qawāʿid, at least in terms of presentation. In his discussion of TQQ,
Sabt notes that not every interpretation stemming from this method is definitely
correct, “because it [involves] reasoning (ijtihad) on the part of the exegete, who may
be wrong or right. The method is correct in principle, but he could err in the
application.” However, he considers such an interpretation to be certainly true if it
came from the Prophet or a Companion (without contrary opinions being known), or
if it is a matter of consensus. 121 It is remarkable that no qawāʿid were actually provided
in this section, but the relevance of numerous rules scattered throughout the book –
especially those dealt with in uṣūl al-fiqh – is evident. Here are some examples, taken
from different chapters and thus addressing various aspects in no particular order:
137Al-Taḥrīr, pp. 51–55. See also Muṭayrī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, pp. 34–39 concerning broad and
narrow definitions of TQQ, and pp. 49–51 for the distinction between istidlāl and istishhād.
Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, p. 173 ff. His preceding discussions of āthār and qarāʾin do not form part of
138
1.5 – Analysis
1.5.1 – General Observations
Studying the texts presented above confirms that statements about the under-
development of uṣūl al-tafsīr as a methodology are basically accurate, particularly
those concerning TQQ itself.144 In order to develop an account with sufficient detail,
it was necessary to draw on a variety of hermeneutical genres, and the numbers of
works available in each was noticeably limited. It is evident that the topics selected,
and their structure of presentation, vary widely in these works; it is understandable that
some have compared this situation unfavourably with that of uṣūl al-fiqh, in which
chapter headings and relevant discussions are fairly standard.
Those who did use terms like tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān generally did not
elaborate beyond a few examples. The larger compendia of ʿulūm al-Qurʾān contain
many discussions of direct relevance to TQQ, but the authors did not make these
aspects of relevance explicit. Recent academic works have attempted to gather some
of these threads. The most notable advance in theorising around TQQ was made by
Farāhī’s niẓām/naẓm school, which has yet to receive its due attention in broader
Muslim scholarship; hence more recent works have gone back to the simple hierarchy
proposed by Ibn Taymiyya. Other than brief remarks by some of the exegetes, his was
the first explicit account of TQQ, and his description of it as the “best method” was
extremely influential: a point to which we return shortly, and at various points in this
study.
Another trend, at least since Zurqānī and subsequent Azharite discourse, has
been to categorise TQQ as a form of exegesis “by narration”, which is undoubtedly a
misleading description, and one which has been noted to confuse between “the way
the Qurʾān has reached us, i.e. narration (athar)” and “the way we reach the
explanation of each verse of the Qurʾān, which is raʾy and ijtihād”.145 This could have
been a major factor inhibiting further methodological development: it was as though
the work was already done, or – as one contemporary author put it – “transmitted from
God” (manqūl ʿan Allāh)!146 Another consequence is that even such elaboration as
provided by Shinqīṭī on the forms of bayān has conflated between what the Qurʾān
‘does’ – in some sense – and what the mufassir must do in order to connect one verse
to another and interpret each in the other’s light. None of the hermeneuts has clarified
the proportion of verses of the Qur’ān which can – or should – be supplied with
supporting or contrasting verses. Instead, there are ‘broad’ and ‘narrow’ approaches to
TQQ which will become evident in the next chapter.
145 Ṭayyār in Al-Jāmiʿ, 1/471. Other writers have also expressed concern at locating TQQ in tafsīr bi-l-
maʾthūr while stopping short of disputing the categorisation itself. Some point out that tafsīr should be
attributed to the mufassir, which is never God or the Qurʾān in and of itself (see Khaṭīb, Miftāḥ al-Tafsīr,
p. 335). Faḍl ʿAbbās does not mention the Qurʾān as a source of maʾthūr exegesis, but proposes to include
classical Arabic lexicons in the genre (Itqān al-Burhān, 1/195).
146Suhayl, Al-Mufassir, p. 191. Similar appears in Abū Shahba, Al-Isrāʾīliyyāt wa-l-Mawḍūʿāt fī Kutub al-
Tafsīr, p. 43, but his examples are all of explicit cross-references (see 3.4.1 below).
147 See Ḥammād, ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, pp. 68 and 70 for this and other quotes of modern scholars.
49
3. I have not seen any list of the exegete’s qualifications that has included Qurʾān
memorisation, except for one obscure attribution in a modern work.148 This
indicates that priority was being given in theory to sciences external to the
Qurʾān.
4. On a practical level, it appears necessary to refer to other considerations –
whether source-materials such as ḥadīth, or theological principles – in guiding
the choice of “explanatory” verses, since mere linguistic resemblance would
not be sufficient.
5. Very few exegeses have made TQQ a prominent part of their methodology
(stated or implicit). Before the twentieth century, as far as I have ascertained,
the only works noted to contain a significant TQQ element are that of Ibn
Kathīr and one attributed to al-Amīr al-Ṣanʿānī (d. 1182/1768).149 Even Ibn
Taymiyya’s own exegetical writings do not seem to recognise the primacy of
TQQ.150
It seems, therefore, that TQQ has not received the attention and application that would
be expected for a method universally accepted as “best”. Could it be that the exegetes
did not agree with this claim on a practical level? Despite not providing extensive
arguments for his contentions, Ibn Taymiyya made it difficult to disagree when he
provided an apparent mirror image to his scheme in the form of the ḥadīth of
Muʿādh.151 According to Saleh, this citation was designed to recast tafsīr using the
148Aḥmad Suhayl (Al-Mufassir, pp. 371–372) states that “the scholars” (no citations) have stipulated for
the exegete engaging in TQQ that he be “knowledgeable in the entire Qurʾān” – which need not entail
memorisation.
149 Ḥammād, ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, pp. 82–85; the author makes mention of lost works by Ibn al-Jawzī
(mentioned in note 80 above) and Ibn Daqīq al-ʿĪd (or an earlier scholar), but these have been lost. See
also Muṭayrī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān p. 40 and note 3; and Ṭayyār, Al-Taḥrīr, p. 50. Another of the
works Ṭayyār claims to be rich in TQQ content is that of Muqātil; this was one reason for selecting it
for the case study in Chapter 2.
150See Saleh, ‘Ibn Taymiyya,’ p. 155 note 5, and Ṭayyār in Al-Jāmiʿ, 1/467. This is not to say that he
did not employ the method: Bazzano suggests that Ibn Taymiyya’s writings are richer in intraquranic
arguments than many exegetes (‘Ibn Taymiyya, Radical Polymath, Part 2’, pp. 120, 123). There is a
need for further comparison of Ibn Taymiyya’s exegetical writings in the collection known as Majmūʿ al-
Fatāwā (volumes 13-18 of 37) and his theoretical Muqaddima; further material is found in the Majmūʿ with
the description “Muqaddimat al-Tafsīr” (13/7–176). See Hindī, Ikhtiyārāt Ibn Taymiyya, 1/41 ff. for an
overview of principles from these sources, and Mirza, ‘Ibn Taymiyya as Exegete’ for questions of
chronology.
151The report is considered weak by ḥadīth authorities. See Al-Jāmiʿ, 1/451 (inc. footnote) and 1/463, in
which an appeal on behalf of the report – or Ibn Taymiyya’s claim that it has “a good chain” – is made
to scholars’ acceptance and narration of this report in the light of its agreement with established
principles of the religion. Curtis argues unconvincingly that Ibn Kathīr felt the need to support this ḥadīth
with a Quranic verse, namely Q 49:1 which forbids believers from putting themselves (hence their
50
established hierarchy in fiqh, thereby making his theory “almost impossible to unseat
as long as one also upholds the rules of the Sunni juristic practices”.152 This may
explain why later scholars did not oppose his hierarchical presentation explicitly, even
when the practicalities of exegesis – or their personal preferences and priorities – led
them to adopt a methodology which was not primarily intraquranic.
Among the various arguments presented for TQQ, the most useful point to the
nature of the Qurʾān as a corpus, whereas the worst conceal the interpreter’s agency
behind the creed that “God knows best what He means”. Even so, considering TQQ
the best method is one thing, whereas stating that it is to be exhausted “first” is
another.153 This, too, is derived from Ibn Taymiyya, who wrote of resorting to the
Sunna when the explanation cannot be found in the Qurʾān (fa-in aʿyāka dhālika – and
then paralleled with fa-in lam tajid from Muʿādh’s narrative). Noticing the potential
implication that one may therefore suffice with the Qurʾān for its own explanation,
modern Salafī commentators have argued that the order is in fact intended as: (a) order
of authority, in line with the generally recognised primacy of the Qurʾān over other
sources of legislation etc., or (b) a pedagogical device to outline the various sources.154
Although these explanations stretch Ibn Taymiyya’s wording rather far, it remains
difficult to conclude that he was genuinely advocating that exegetes consider these
sources in turn.155 One possibility which I have not seen mentioned by these
commentators is that he was only referring in this context to the most definitive cases
of TQQ, such as when the Qurʾān makes an explicit reference to other verses.156
opinions) before God and the Messenger (Authentic Interpretation, p. 268; cf. Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 1/27
and 6/425).
152 Saleh, ‘Ibn Taymiyya,’ pp. 145–146. He also notes the anomaly of the mention of ijtihād in the
Muʿādh narrative while Ibn Taymiyya was not promoting the use of ijtihād in exegesis. Curtis (Authentic
Interpretation, pp. 225–227) suggests that Ibn Taymiyya invoked it in part as a counterweight to its use by
Ḥanafite scholars in support of their extensive use of qiyās.
153As Mahmoud Ayoub put it: “Thus whenever a verse, phrase or word of the Qur’an may be elucidated
by another, no recourse to any other source is necessary” (The Qur’an and its Interpreters, p. 22).
154 See Al-Jāmiʿ, 1/457–8, 463–5 and 467; and 2.7 and 3.4.3 below re: ‘Quranism’.
155Another evident problem with this is that one might thus be expected to abandon an authentic,
explicit prophetic narration due to a Quranic meaning which may only be implicit (here the distinction
between qatʿī and ẓannī denotations would be relevant). Without engaging critically with Ibn Taymiyya’s
hierarchy, Muṭayrī has included a chapter in which it is stipulated that TQQ “must not conflict with
Prophetic exegesis” (Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, p. 115 ff.).
156 See Chapter 3 under the Principles of Unity (3.1.3) and Authority (3.4.1).
51
Chapter 2
Case Study: TQQ of Sūrat al-Anʿām
2.0 – Introduction
2.0.1 – Aims and Sūra Choice
The first chapter explored the treatment of tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān in the
Islamic hermeneutical literature, highlighting how this approach to exegesis is
conceptualised and categorised. This chapter turns to the exegetical literature with two
broad aims: (a) to analyse the practical methods adopted by the TQQ-focused exegetes;
and (b) to further the theoretical treatment by way of inference. Although the materials
represent the exegetes’ reception of the verses under study, we are particularly
interested in what their explanations and arguments reveal about the theory and
practice of TQQ. To this end, I have selected a group of exegetes to form the core of
my case study (hereafter ‘the Group’) and conducted a thorough study of their
intraquranic citations over the span of an entire sūra, namely al-Anʿām (Q 6). The
result is an original style of sūra study, in which the specific methods comprising TQQ
are the common thread running through my thematic and comparative analysis.1 Of
course, not all citations provided by exegetes are from the Qurʾān, and not all
intraquranic exegesis (if broadly defined) consists of citations; the area of study here
is the overlap between TQQ and exegetical citations.
The selection of this section of the Qurʾān was partly motivated by the
existence of two famous reports from the “authentic” collections which show Prophet
Muḥammad explaining its verses (viz. 59 and 82) with reference to others in the Qurʾān
– see 2.6 below. The selection is both lengthy and bounded: the former (al-Anʿām
being slightly longer than one thirtieth-part of the Qurʾān) to allow for sufficiently rich
and varied data; and the latter to note any patterns in intra-sūra exegesis, which can
provide data for discussions of sūra unity.
1 Cf. Sinai, ‘Reading Sūrat al-Anʿām with Muḥammad Rashīd Riḍā and Sayyid Quṭb’ which studies
the introductions to the sūra; and Neuwirth’s structural study which I summarise in 2.8 below.
53
2.0.2 – Exegetes
As mentioned previously, there are only a few works of complete exegesis
which have been explicit in their adoption of TQQ as a core method, while a few others
have been noted to be rich in intraquranic explanations and citations. By focusing on
these categories, I have aggregated the intraquranic citations and discussions
pertaining to each verse of al-Anʿām, in a way that can fairly represent the extent to
which TQQ was used in tafsīr works as a whole despite the dominance of modern
texts. There are two categories within the Group itself – that is, works whose every
intraquranic citation was documented across the span of the sūra; then there are two
types of supplementary source to which I have made extensive reference.
2 Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/5. See Sinai, ‘Reading Sūrat al-Anʿām,’ pp. 139–143, 149.
3 Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 7/121–123.
4 In contrast, Nicolai Sinai analyses the Quranic text without the mufassirs’ lens in order to focus on
exegesis performed, as it were, by the Qurʾān itself (see 3.1.3 below): this is inevitably restricted to
subsequent passages. These, in turn, are of two types: “interpretively motivated secondary expansion
and revision” within a single sūra, and “interpretive backreferencing” in separate sūras – see Sinai, ‘Two
Types of Inner-Qur’ānic Interpretation’ p. 254.
54
Raḥmān (“Exegesis of the Qurʾān Through the Speech of the Lord of Mercy”) by
Thanāʾ-Allāh Amritsarī5, and the far better-known Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān fī Īḍāḥ al-Qurʾān
bi-l-Qurʾān (“Lights of Clarity: Elucidating the Qurʾān through the Qurʾān”) by
Muḥammad al-Amīn al-Shinqīṭī. Both of these express their purpose in the very title;
Amritsarī provides little insight into his approach in his introduction, unlike Shinqīṭī.6
Both exegetes were influenced by Salafī theology, but Amritsarī initially included
Mātūrīdī opinions in his work for which he was chastised by fellow Ahl-i-Ḥadīth
scholars in India and Saudi Arabia.7 In the beginning of the exegesis, he reproduces an
extensive passage from Dihlawī’s Al-Fawz al-Kabīr outlining problems with over-
reliance upon revelatory contexts (the asbāb literature) – I summarise this content in
Chapter 3.
Belonging to a similar time-period are Ḥamīd al-Dīn Farāhī and Amīn Aḥsan
Iṣlāḥī, representing the naẓm (“coherence”) school of India. The former did not leave
behind a full commentary on al-Anʿām, but his personal notes in Arabic have been
published under the title Taʿlīqāt fī Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-Karīm.8 His student’s complete
Urdu exegesis, Tadabbur-i-Qur’an, builds on Farāhī’s methodology with extensive
5His Arabic-language exegesis was originally published in India in 1902. Among the recommendations
of the work included in the prefaces is one by Shibli Nomani (d. 1914) who stated that the TQQ method
adopted “is not found, to my knowledge, in any other work” (Amritsarī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 24). A leading
Ahl-i-Ḥadīth scholar and writer, Amritsarī also debated representatives of various religions and
movements including the Ahl-i-Qur’ān group. See Qasmi, ‘Islamic Universalism: The ‘Amritsarī’ Version
of Ahl al-Qurʾān,’ pp. 171–173, 175–176.
6 See 1.3 above on Shinqīṭī’s introduction. Regarding his theological background and apparent shift
after moving to Riyadh, see ʿAbbās, Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 3/85–86. It should be noted that the
unfinished portion of the Aḍwāʾ (from Q 59 onwards) was written after Shinqīṭī’s death by his student,
ʿAṭiyya Sālim (Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, publisher’s note p. 3). The edition I used (Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2011)
is unusual in being in a single, condensed volume, to which two further works by Shinqīṭī (Dafʿ Īhām al-
Idṭirāb and Manʿ Jawāz al-Majāz) are appended.
7 This is described in a foreword by Ṣafī al-Raḥmān Mubārakpurī in the Saudi edition upon which I
have relied (Dār al-Salām, 2002, pp. 17–21). By way of example, his “controversial” explanation of Q
7:54 has been replaced by a two-page-long footnote reproducing the views of Ibn Taymiyya and “the
way of the Salaf’’, apparently penned by Amritsarī himself (ibid, pp. 228–229). For more details and
context see Riexinger, ‘A Conflict Among the Ahl-i Ḥadīth in British India,’ pp. 502–513.
8 These have been compiled in two volumes; the first covers until the end of Sūrat al-Nūr (Q 24). The
publication could provide for rich study, including comparison with the author’s completed
commentaries on specific sūras as found in Niẓām al-Qurʾān. We are informed in the preface to the Taʿlīqāt
(pp. 4–6) that most of this content was copied from notes Farāhī kept in several muṣḥafs which were kept
by Iṣlāḥī after his mentor’s death. Naturally, such cannot be assumed as the author’s final opinion. He
often provides cross-references, but the purpose of citation is not always discernible. Additional content
was included by the editor from some of Farāhī’s completed works.
55
original insights.9 As described previously, the naẓm approach is based upon the
primacy of “internal” evidence, hence the importance of intraquranic relationships;
after the immediate context, this applies to citations from other sūras. As noted, these
two aspects are reflected in the title of Farāhī’s exegesis, Niẓām al-Qurʾān wa Taʾwīl
al-Furqān bi-l-Furqān. It is important to note that both exegetes considered Sūrat al-
Anʿām to be the first in a “group” of four sūras (Q 6-9), with Iṣlāḥī adding that it is
“paired” with Q7, Sūrat al-Aʿrāf. The unifying theme (ʿamūd) is “Islam as the religion
of Abraham”, with al-Anʿām serving the role of “invitation” to the unbelieving
Quraysh, before the others which represent “warning”, “preparation” and “war”, in
succession.10
The last of the TQQ-primary members of the Group is Al-Mīzān fī Tafsīr al-
Qurʾān by Muḥammad Ḥusayn Ṭabāṭabāʾī, who defined his exegetical project as
“enabling the Qurʾān to speak for itself (istinṭāq al-Qurʾān)”.11 This is particularly in
his sections labelled “bayān” (explanation), which are far more extensive than his
“riwāya” sections which address narrations from earlier authorities and exegetes,
especially from the Ahl al-Bayt and Shīʿa tradition. There are also occasional thematic
studies (drawing from across the Qurʾān) of individual terms and concepts which arise
while studying the verses sequentially. Being the only Shīʿī work in the Group, the
inclusion of Al-Mīzān allows for comparison of the results of TQQ across sectarian
lines; in practice, I found only a few notable differences attributable to sectarian
doctrines, while divergence of opinion was frequent between the Sunnīs themselves.
In order to capture something of earlier TQQ practice, I incorporated two of
the earliest exegeses into the Group: those of Muqātil b. Sulaymān and Ibn Jarīr al-
Ṭabarī. The former is deemed to be the earliest complete tafsīr work extant.12 Ṭayyār’s
observation that it is rich in TQQ content has not been borne out by my case study,
9I relied upon the original Urdu, as there is no translation yet for this sūra. For the relationship between
Tadabbur and Farāhī’s exegesis, see Mir, Coherence, pp. 43–45.
10 Mir, pp. 76, 85–88. This idea assumes divinely-mandated order between sūras.
11 See Medoff, Ijtihad and Renewal, 20 ff.; and 1.3 above.
12 Sinai notes the work’s novelty in demonstrating some “awareness of intra-textual relations of
coherence” and “recurrent lexical peculiarities” in the Quranic corpus – see Sinai, ‘The Qur’anic
Commentary of Muqātil b. Sulaymān and the Evolution of Early Tafsīr Literature’, in Görke and Pink
(eds.), p. 131.
56
however.13 The choice of Ṭabarī was to draw not only on his own TQQ explanations,
but also on the various early authorities whom he cites with his chain of narration.14
Although both have incorporated other hermeneutical methods, there are instances of
TQQ explanations advanced or quoted by these authors which do not appear in
subsequent TQQ-focused works. One might have expected later exegetes to gather
citations from earlier works, but they seem to have preferred independent reflection
for the most part. In any case, this fact invites further exploration of tafsīr works from
early and later periods in search of individual TQQ-based opinions and original
insights.
It is noteworthy that Ṭabarī’s work was praised by Ibn Taymiyya as “among
the worthiest and most valued transmitted exegeses”15 even though it does not give
special prominence to intraquranic explanations, as the latter’s typology of “best
methods” may be expected to dictate.16 In order to see a version of the Taymiyyan
paradigm in practice, I incorporated Ibn Kathīr into the Group: the introduction to his
exegesis, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, incorporated his teacher’s theory verbatim. It is
obvious that his work is rich with parallel verses, which are given a prominent place
in his commentary. However, it is not the case that he implemented the described
procedure literally, i.e. to exhaust the Qurʾān as a resource before turning to the Sunna.
Rather, reports from the Prophet and first three generations were more dominant in
shaping Ibn Kathīr’s conclusions, as with Ṭabarī, whose work he engages with
regularly and critically.
13Ṭayyār, Al-Taḥrīr, p. 50. It should be noted that Muqātil has a work on Quranic polysemy, Al-Wujūh
wa-l-Naẓāʾir – see 4.2.2 for related discussion.
14 Ṭabarī cites TQQ opinions in this sūra most frequently from ʿAbd al-Raḥmān b. Zayd (five times),
followed by ʿAbd-Allāh b. ʿAbbās (three), al-Ḍaḥḥāk b. Muzāḥim, Mujāhid b. Jabr and al-Suddī (twice
each), and one each from ʿAṭāʾ b. Abī Rabāḥ, al-Rabīʿ b. Anas and ‘Abd-Allāh b. ʿAmr. There are
plentiful studies of Ṭabarī’s exegetical methodology, particularly in the Arabic language. A recent work
has studied it in terms of his methods of supporting his interpretations and evaluating existing opinions;
the researcher concludes that Ṭabarī cites the Qurʾān to this end 124 times in his whole work, accounting
for 1.1% of evidential manoevres (including reasoning): see Zahrānī, Al-Istidlāl fī l-Tafsīr, pp. 115–117
(and pp. 185–211 for details).
15 Muqaddima, p. 90. Ibn Taymiyya counts Ṭabarī’s to be among “al-tafāsīr al-maʾthūra”, which is most
likely to be a forerunner of the later classification into maʾthūr vs. raʾy exegesis. However, his description
is of Ṭabarī’s narration from the Salaf, and so there is no reason to suppose that Ibn Taymiyya counted
TQQ to be a form of maʾthūr exegesis as categorised by some later scholars.
16 As noted previously, the same can be said of Ibn Taymiyya’s own collected commentaries. The
snippets pertaining to al-Anʿām were not substantial enough to include in the study (Majmūʿ al-Fatāwā,
14/273–279).
57
(b) Supplements
In addition to the eight just mentioned, I consulted a further seven
commentaries for the whole of al-Anʿām, along with various other supplemental
resources. Two of these belong to self-professed ‘Quranists’ (or similar descriptors)
who reject ḥadīth as a source of exegesis and law, allowing only for language, reason
and science as external resources to interpret the scripture – these are the English
translation-commentaries by Shabbir Ahmed17 and Edip Yüksel et al18. In 3.4.3 below,
I discuss some of the Quranist thinkers who influenced these authors.
17 The open source translation led by Shabbir Ahmed, an American medical doctor, is entitled The
Qur’an as it Explains Itself: the version I acquired online is labelled as the sixth edition. It is primarily a
translation and includes Quranic cross-references to support its interpretations. In the introduction,
Ahmed defines his approach as “focusing on the language of Makkah in which the Qur’an was revealed”
and “making use of ‘Tasreef’, that is, how the Qur’an repeats its verses in a variety of ways to clearly
explain itself” (Preface, vi.).
18Edip Yüksel, Layth Saleh al-Shaiban and Martha Schulte-Nafeh, The Qurʾān: A Reformist Translation.
The first two worked on the translation, but the commentary (including cross-references) belongs to
Yüksel (see 3.4.3 below).
58
Two further sources are by authors whose stances are close to the Quranists’
in some respects. Before his death in 2016, the Iraqi scholar Ṭāhā al-ʿAlwānī had
released one commentary from an intended series of tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān,
which happens to be of Sūrat al-Anʿām. Its sparsity of Quranic citations, together with
tangents of tenuous relevance to the verse under discussion19, make this work, in my
assessment, an example of using the claimed objectivity of TQQ as a cover to advance
the author’s personal theories about religion.20 Another recent commentary is Al-
Bayān by Javed Ahmad Ghamidi, a Pakistani intellectual who studied under Iṣlāḥī and
is now perhaps the leading proponent of his naẓm school.21 I consulted this for further
understanding of the perspectives of Farāhī and Iṣlāḥī.
Finally, there were resources which I drew upon to supplement the data and
discussions in specific areas addressed below. For Quranic parallels, I looked through
Rudi Paret’s Konkordanz, A.J. Droge’s New Annotated Translation and Maria
Dakake’s notes on al-Anʿām in The Study Quran22; hence the presentation has taken
into account the latest Western scholarship. For specific verses and issues, I have
referred to general tafsīr works as well as specific sub-genres – such as naskh, qirāʾāt,
mutashābihāt – as will become apparent, and further developed in Chapters 3 and 4 of
this study.
19 See, for example, his treatment of amn under 6:82 (mentioned below in 2.6.2).
20 Cf. Muṭayrī’s assessment (Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, pp. 59–61) of ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Khaṭīb’s Al-Tafsīr
al-Qurʾānī li-l-Qurʾān and Abū Zayd al-Damanhūrī’s Al-Hidāya wa-l-ʿIrfān fī Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān.
ʿAlwānī’s detailed perspective on Sunna can be found in ʿAlwānī, Ishkāliyyat al-Taʿāmul maʿa l-Sunna (IIIT,
2014). Similar points are raised in the introduction to his Tafsīr Sūrat al-Anʿām, which he concludes by
saying: “The Qurʾān itself suffices [the reader] from the tafāsīr, many of which are corrupted with
isrāʾīliyyāt and narrations which are inauthentic in terms of chain and text. They have gone outside the
authentic, connected reports in which the Messenger (peace be upon him) outlined the Islamically
accepted method of exegesis, which is tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān” (Tafsīr Sūrat al-Anʿām, p. 34). I address
the issue of ḥadīths and “Prophetic method” in 3.4.2 below.
21 The full Urdu commentary is available on the author’s website. His office kindly shared an advance
PDF copy of the English translation of the al-Anʿām commentary, previously published in the Monthly
Renaissance journal. The author’s theories on Qurʾān-primacy, and the wide distinction between Sunna
and ḥadīth, have led many to accuse Ghamidi of ḥadīth-denial, a label he rejects. See Islam: A Comprehensive
Introduction, pp. 39–46 and 61–69 for his views.
22 This volume by Seyyed Hossein Nasr (editor-in-chief), Caner Dagli, Maria Dakake, Joseph Lumbard
(general editors) and Mohammed Rustom (assistant editor) is a major contribution which presents and
synthesises many traditional, and some modern, works of exegesis. However, it has faced criticism from
some Muslims for displaying a pluralistic bias concerning other religions, stemming from the philosophy
known as Perennialism. In my survey of this sūra, I identified several such junctures; I also draw attention
to several other issues below for attention in subsequent editions or similar projects.
59
23On occasion, Muqātil also connects some verses in terms of sabab, saying “fīhi/fīhim nazalat…” (i.e. the
other verse was revealed concerning the same person/situation).
24 Points here are expanded in 4.2.1 below.
25In my aggregated citation table (see Appendix), I have considered such overlaps to be evidentiary,
and reserved the designation of “parallel” for those which serve no other explicit function.
60
26 Since it spans seventeen pages, I have placed this table in the Appendix for the benefit of researchers.
27 See 3.1.3 and 4.4.3 below.
61
between works that would be expected to correspond due to intellectual lineage.28 One
explanation is that a certain verse may have many parallels, and when each exegete
selected one or a few from these possibilities, these overlapped minimally or not at all.
A broader conclusion that can be drawn from this lack of consistency in citations (both
in the Parallels and Evidence columns) is that TQQ did not develop its own citation
corpus in the way that scholarly works frequently link specific ḥadīths or poetic
citations with verses of the Qurʾān.29
28The most obvious lineage is between Farāhī–Iṣlāḥī, but it is not always the case that their citations
coincide. Another thread is Ṭabarī–Ibn Kathīr–Shinqīṭī: in practice, the greatest correspondence was
between the latter two. In some cases, Shinqīṭī reproduces Ibn Kathīr’s citations without attribution (as
under 6:88), but he occasionally critiques those citations (e.g. under 6:130).
29For ḥadīths, this can be observed in the Tafsīr chapters of the ḥadīth compendia, and later in the
development of Suyūṭī’s Al-Durr al-Manthūr and the recent Mawsūʿat al-Tafsīr al-Maʾthūr. This is in
addition to works on asbāb al-nuzūl particularly.
62
possibilities which they overlooked or left on purpose. However, it is certainly not the
case that these supplemental resources – despite being later, and sometimes having far
superior technology at their disposal – incorporated all the citations provided by the
Group, even in the Parallels column.
A slash (/) indicates that groups of citations are being used in different ways.30
This is more frequent in the Evidence column; it indicates that there are different
opinions, each supported by Quranic evidence. This calls into question the notion of
TQQ’s objectivity and potential to end disagreements; this point will be seen more
clearly in the following section.
General Observations
A number of observations and conclusions have already been mentioned.
Another reality which has become clear from the aggregated table is the relative
proportions of pure parallels and evidential citations. My initial impression was that
the former would far outweigh the latter, however – taking into account my
methodology of classifying the citation as evidentiary whenever feasible – the table
displays a fairly even distribution between the two columns.
Although the Evidence column is of more obvious interest in the study of tafsīr,
there are numerous ways in which the Parallels data can provide a resource for research
questions, especially if it is further supplemented from other exegetical works,
concordances and even modern text corpus technology. Whereas these exegetes cited
the verses on the basis of their similarity, it is equally possible to focus on the divergent
phrasing in these ‘parallels’. This is the basis for the comparative approach and genre
known as mutashābihāt al-Qurʾān31; the idea of a mutashābih (resembling, near-
parallel) verse is essentially the same as that of the naẓīr, but the emphasis is instead
upon the differences in wording and their appropriateness to context. My point is that
collecting parallels and cross-references may be taken as a first step to investigate the
relationship between the verses and their meanings.
30 The slash is also used between multiple cited verses in a single sūra.
31 See 4.3.1 below, especially Figure 6 which aggregates Ibn al-Zubayr’s citations from al-Anʿām,
providing a markedly different list under the relevant verses. The issue is addressed minimally in the
present chapter in terms of “tensions”: see 2.3.6.
63
32I indicate the verse under study, or the relevant phrase from it, using bold text to distinguish this from
explanatory citations. While Abdel Haleem’s translation is my default, I use Ali Quli Qara’i’s wherever
that better fits the literal sense or the intended sense of the exegete.
33 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3321.
34 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 254. Amritsarī (Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 208) cites the same.
35 Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Al-Mīzān, 7/343; Iṣlāḥī says similar, pointing also within al-Anʿām (Tadabbur, 3/154).
However, this creates another problem because 16:118 (shortly after the verse cited in al-Naḥl) makes
explicit reference to a prohibition upon the Jews which “We recounted to you earlier” – and
commentators generally link this back to al-Anʿām (6:146). Ṭabāṭabāʾī seems to accept this identification
in his commentary on al-Naḥl, stating that al-Anʿām was “unproblematically” revealed before al-Naḥl
(Al-Mīzan, 12/366). Ibn ʿĀshūr argues that al-Naḥl was revealed in various stages, and that 16:118 came
after al-Anʿām, such that it could indeed refer back to it (Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 14/93). Ālūsī mentions
some alternative interpretations of the clause “min qabl” in 16:118 (see Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 14/333).
64
different types of citation, some of which are treated under separate headings below.
An exegete may cite a verse because it functions as elaboration or clarification of the
verse under study. Two or more verses may be concerned with a shared subject matter
– and may even have aspects of tension or contradiction – in which case it is necessary
to gather them in order to discuss that subject comprehensively; I have classed such
citations as thematic and addressed them in the next section.
In this section, I focus on the use of Quranic citations to explain or argue for
an interpretation of the verse at hand. This is istidlāl, i.e. using the citation as dalīl
(evidence); that evidence may be the mere existence of an expression or meaning
elsewhere in the Qurʾān, as described previously (evidentiary parallels). It may be used
to explain the meaning of a word by appeal to other usages. More generally, we are
interested in how the exegete draws upon Quranic citations to support an argument he
makes as part of his tafsīr. Further aspects of this will become clearer in subsequent
sections.
As well as demonstrating some of the various ways in which citations are used
as evidence, another key aim at this point is to highlight the frequent divergence of
opinions between the exegetes employing TQQ, stemming from the following
realities: (a) the possibility of a single citation having a variety of interpretations and
implications; (b) reference being made to different verses, each supporting a different
interpretation of the verse under examination; and/or (c) the influence of non-TQQ
evidences and exegetical opinion upon the preferences or predilections of each
mufassir.
36 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 7.
65
which he cites two verses: “Even so, there are some who choose to worship others
besides God as rivals (andād) to Him, loving them with the love due to God” (2:165)
and “When we made you equal (nusawwīkum) with the Lord of the Worlds” (26:98).37
Importantly, neither of these contains the same key word or root; but they demonstrate
the existence of this meaning in other verses.
On the other hand, Amritsarī argues for the meaning of “going astray”, citing:
“And those who do not believe in the Hereafter turn away (nākibūn) from that path.”
(23:74).38 This is based on a slightly different, indeed more straightforward, reading
of the syntax.39 However, again, the citation does not contain the same word. It does
not appear that citing parallels was an effective strategy to support either opinion,
although more pertinent citations (containing the same root word) were, in fact,
available to the exegetes: 6:150 and 27:60 for the former, and 4:135 for the latter.40 An
argument from the immediate context and purpose of the entire verse would, perhaps,
be more convincing.41
The following verse has two occurrences of the word ajal, which has various
possible meanings; therefore, the exegetes provide citations in order to remove the
vagueness (ibhām) of the respective occurrences. “He is the one who created you from
clay and specified a term [for you] and another fixed time (ajal musammā), known
only to Him” (6:2). Ṭabarī narrates from Ḍaḥḥāk that the first denotes death, citing
63:11, “God does not reprieve a soul when its turn (ajal) comes”; for his own part, he
appeals to the context of the preceding verse to argue that the first ajal is the end of
this worldly existence (or the lives of all creatures), while the second is the
resurrection, citing 2:28 for this combined meaning.42 Ibn Kathīr seems to prefer the
37 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 243. Indeed, this is almost a matter of consensus among translators.
38 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 185.
39Cf. 6:150, where only the first reading is possible: “bi-rabbihim yaʿdilūn”. It is surprising that this was
not cited, although the existence of a parallel is not conclusive in itself.
40 I found these with Paret (Konkordanz, p. 134) and linked them to their respective interpretations. The
underlined reference is to make clearer that the citation is also from Sūrat al-Anʿām: I suggest that this
strengthens the first view considerably, as it is more obvious that the later use of the word echoes the
first verse. As for 4:135, its support for the second view depends on adopting a particular interpretation
of the phrase an taʿdilū (see Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 6/335).
41Thus argues Ālūsī (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/24-25), who points out that this strategy, too, allows for different
conclusions.
42 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3129.
66
view (as in the translation above) that the former denotes each person’s death and the
latter the Hereafter, citing both 7:187 and 79:42-44 to support the signification by the
word ʿindahu that none knows its coming but He.43 However, he also cites a view
attributed to Ibn ʿAbbās and Mujāhid to the effect that the former is the age of this
worldly existence, and the latter each person’s final age, saying that this could be
supported by 6:60 which contains the same expression ajal musammā: “It is He who
calls your souls back by night, knowing what you have done by day, then raises you
up again in the daytime until your fixed term is fulfilled.”44
Ṭabāṭabāʾī, in contrast, argues that both refer to death: the former vaguely to
indicate a person’s expected life-span, and the latter specified and fixed.45 For this, he
cites 13:38-39, which is among the “preeminent verses” of his philosophy: “There is a
written [schedule] for every term (ajal): Allah effaces and confirms whatever He
wishes and with Him is the Mother Book”46 – where the first ajal of 6:2 corresponds
to effacement (maḥw) and confirmation (ithbāt), and the second to the Mother Book
(umm al-kitāb).47
Another significant function of tafsīr upon which opinions sometimes diverge
is to identify referents of pronouns. One such complexity in this sūra is in the verse:
“Do not drive away those who call upon their Lord morning and evening, seeking
nothing but His Face. You are in no way accountable for them, nor they for you; if
you drove the believers [lit. “drove them”] away, you would become one of the
evildoers.” (6:52). Abdel Haleem’s translation reflects the view that the ones referred
to by the phrase about lack of mutual accountability are a separate group from the
43 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/161. Amritsarī agrees and cites 31:34 to this effect (Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 185).
Iṣlāḥī adopts the same view, adding that there is a third meaning of ajal (musammā) in the Qurʾān, namely
the time of destruction of a nation (7:34) (Tadabbur, 3/18).
44 Paret also cites to this effect 39:42 and 40:67 (Konkordanz, p. 134).
45 Al-Mīzān, 7/8–11.
46 I used Ali Quli Qara’i’s translation in order to reflect the author’s intent. “Mother” may be rendered
instead as “source” – see 3.1.2 and 3.31 below for other usages. On Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s “preeminent verses”
(al-āyāt al-ghurar), refer to Medoff, Ijtihād and Renewal, p. 95 ff.
47 A related enquiry is the meaning of “the hour” (al-sāʿa) in: “Lost indeed are those who deny the
meeting with their Lord until, when the Hour suddenly arrives, they say, ‘Alas for us that we disregarded
this!’” (6:31). The term is frequently used for the Day of Judgement, but the term “suddenly” (baghtatan)
led Amritsarī (referring also to 6:93) to explain it in terms of death, which is unknown to each person
(31:34) – Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 190. ʿAlwānī uses “suddenly” (also in 7:187, 43:66) to argue, contrary to
common belief based on ḥadīth reports, that there are no major signs of the Day of Judgement (Tafsīr
Sūrat al-Anʿām, p. 66).
67
believers, namely the unbelieving chieftains of Mecca who demanded that Muḥammad
shun his low-status followers in order to be taken seriously.48 This interpretation is
advanced by Farāhī, who cites as a parallel: “The righteous are not in any way held
accountable for the wrongdoers; their only duty is to remind them, so that they may be
mindful of God” (6:69). Thus the meaning is that the Prophet is not blamed for their
rejection, and – since they do not carry his burden of propagating the faith – he should
not waste his time on them, neglecting the believers.49 On the other hand, most of the
Group took the reference to be to the believers, which is the more obvious reading of
the pronouns. Ibn Kathīr explains this by citing Noah’s reply to a similar demand:
“What knowledge do I have of what they used to do? It is for my Lord alone to bring
them to account…” (26:112-113) – thus the meaning is that Muḥammad is not
accountable for anything his followers may have done before joining him.50
The above reading, which effectively places a full stop after “and on earth”, is
shared by all translators I consulted. However, there are two other plausible readings
of the sentence structure, which would also affect the reciter’s point of pause (waqf wa
ibtidāʾ).53 The second could be translated as: “He is God. He knows what you conceal
or reveal in the heavens and on earth”, which is attested by 25:6: “Say, ‘It was sent
down by Him who knows the secrets of the heavens and earth. He is all forgiving, all
merciful.’”54
The third is Ṭabarī’s view55 that “He is God in the heavens” is the first
sentence, attested by such references as: “Are you sure that He who is in Heaven will
not make the earth swallow you up with a violent shudder?” (67:16)56 – and others
which indicate God’s elevation etc., the interpretation of which is a famous point of
theological debate. This is followed by a separate clause: “And He knows what you
conceal or reveal on earth” – perhaps the clearest parallel for this is: “It was He who
created the heavens and earth in six Days and then established Himself on the throne.
He knows what enters the earth and what comes out of it…” (57:4).57
A more intricate example is the divergence over the phrase ʿalā lladhī aḥsana
in verse 154. Ibn Kathīr outlines three interpretations (arising from three senses of the
preposition ʿalā):58
a. It means that the Torah was bestowed in perfect fulfilment “upon the one
who did good”, meaning Moses. This is supported by verses which
describe goodness coming to those who pass divine tests (2:124 re:
Abraham, 32:24 re: the Israelites, and 55:60 as a universal principle).
b. Also regarding Moses, “for the good that he did”. This uses a different
sense of the particle ʿalā, which is familiar nonetheless. In contrast, this
53See Osman, ‘Human Intervention in Divine Speech: waqf Rules and the Redaction of the Qur'anic
Text’. This example demonstrates the limitations of translation and the disconnect between translators
and exegetes.
54 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 244.
55 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3132.
56 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 244. See Saleh, ‘Rereading al-Ṭabarī,’ pp. 191–192.
57 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 243.
58 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/282.
69
Regarding the last of these opinions, namely that the singular relative pronoun alladhī
here denotes a plural, Ṭabarī cites the grammar of 103:2-3 (al-insān) in support of this
possibility.60 Ṭabāṭabāʾī also takes it to denote a plural (or genus) but interprets it
similarly to (a) above: “upon those [Israelites] who did good”, citing 2:58.61
argument being that if the very presence of the Messenger is supposed to negate
disbelief, it is inconceivable that the Messenger would disbelieve.63 In the second case,
Amritsarī points out that the Prophet could not be ignorant, as other verses (such as
68:2-4) preclude this.64 However, a different sense of “ignorance” itself could be
intended, as Farāhī suggests, citing a later verse to clarify the context and intent: “We
have made some of them a test for others, to make the disbelievers say, ‘Is it these men
that God has favoured among us?’ Does God not know best who are the grateful ones?”
(6:53). Hence the meaning is “ignorance of [divine] justice and differentiation between
the grateful and ungrateful”.65 In the third case, Amritsarī cites 12:108 to argue that
Muḥammad could never doubt, since his path is defined by clear proof (baṣīra).66
One kind of modification is known as particularisation (takhṣīṣ) – this is an
example of a juristic (uṣūl al-fiqh) method, in which an apparently universal statement
is modified to exclude certain members, or, in other words, to limit the extension of
that statement to a subset.67 One such statement is the denial that the People of the
Book will enter the faith, as understood from: “Those to whom We have given the
Scripture know [it/him] as well as they know their own sons. Those who have lost
their souls will not believe.” (6:20)68 There is agreement that this knowledge and
recognition does not hold for every Jew and Christian. Amritsarī identifies them as the
people of knowledge, citing 34:6 regarding the Qurʾān.69 As for the denial that any of
these knowledgeable people would enter Islam, this undergoes its own takhṣīṣ by
63 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-Kalām al-Raḥmān, p. 188. A similar issue arises with another verse in al-Anʿām
speaking of the Prophets: “If they had associated (law ashrakū) [other gods with Him], all their deeds
would have come to nothing” (6:88). The specific conditional particle here is less problematic than in
the parallel in 39:65 which uses in (generally denoting a possibility in the future). Ibn Kathīr argues that
neither of these conditional statements implies that it could occur in reality, citing as support 21:17, 39:4
(each with law) and 43:81 (with in) – Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/215.
64 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-Kalām al-Raḥmān, p. 192.
65 Taʿlīqāt, 1/182.
66 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-Kalām al-Raḥmān, p. 208.
67 See 4.1.2 below. Further examples feature in the remainder of this chapter.
68 As noted by Muqātil and later exegetes, the first part of this verse is paralleled by 6:114 and 10:94
(also 2:146 with exact wording) – Tafsīr Muqātil, 1/340. It may be said that 6:20 serves as clarification of
10:94. Iṣlāḥī argues that the pronoun in yaʿrifūnahu (hence “it”) refers to the Qurʾān, citing the context
in 6:19 (Tadabbur, 3/32). Ṭabāṭabāʾī, on the other hand, considers it to refer to Muḥammad (hence
“him”), citing 7:157 and 48:29 regarding scriptural prophecies of his coming (Al-Mīzān, 7/42). He also
cites 26:197, which is similarly ambiguous.
69 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-Kalām al-Raḥmān, p. 208.
71
means of the following verses: “Those to whom We gave the Scripture before believe
in it” (28:52) – this indicates that some do confess faith; “When they listen to what has
been sent down to the Messenger, you will see their eyes overflowing with tears
because they recognise the Truth [in it]. They say, ‘Our Lord, we believe, so count us
amongst the witnesses.’” (5:83) – which indicates, as Iṣlāḥī argues, that the ones to
believe are the sincere and righteous ones.70
70His point extends, of course, to sincere and righteous Jews, even though 5:83 concerns Christians (see
Tadabbur, 3/32, 125).
71 See Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/294.
72 Al-Mīzān, 7/265.
73 There is no exception here, but the allusion must be to the word minhum near the end of the verse
(misplaced in the printed edition of Al-Mīzān, 7/266), which Ṭabāṭabāʾī reads as denoting partitivity
(tabʿīḍ). The other examples are positive exceptions to the negative, making them somewhat different
from 6:89.
72
the Persians, which is based on linking this verse to 4:133 which has been thus
explained; however, he cites a report from ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib74 which equates the
referents of this verse to another qawm: “O you who have faith! Should any of you
desert his religion, Allah will soon bring a people whom He loves and who love Him”
(5:54-Qara’i).75
Another verse which Ṭabāṭabāʾī interprets in accordance with Imāmī doctrine
is: “This indeed is my straight path (ṣirāṭ), so follow it, and do not follow [other]
ways (subul), for they will separate you from His way (sabīl)” (6:153-Qara’i). First,
it should be noted that he argues that the clearest sense is that “my path” is expressed
in the voice of the Prophet, rather than meaning “God’s path” as it is most commonly
understood. He cites 1:6-7 (“The path (ṣirāṭ) of those You have blessed…”) as an
example of the path being attributed to those who walk upon it.76 Concerning the
meaning of these different paths, he cites a narration from Muḥammad al-Bāqir77 to
the effect that the Prophetic household are the singular sabīl, whereas those who
oppose them have taken the plural subul. Ṭabāṭabāʾī then performs a TQQ manoeuvre
to support this meaning, citing the following two verses: “Say, ‘I do not ask you any
reward for it except love of [my] relatives’” (42:23-Qara’i); “Say, ‘I do not ask you
any reward for it, except that anyone who wishes should take the way (sabīl) to his
Lord’” (25:57-Qara’i). The result of juxtaposing these verses, each of which defines
the sole request of the Prophet to the people, is that the sabīl is equivalent to the
mawadda fi-l-qurbā mentioned in 42:23; the meaning of this expression is contested,
but the quoted translation (with its gloss of “my”) reflects the Shīʿī understanding that
it pertains to the Ahl al-Bayt.78 He has thus constructed an intraquranic argument for
the Shīʿī doctrine of following the path of the Prophet’s descendants, albeit one which
depends upon particular interpretations of the constituent verses.79
“Other messengers were disbelieved before you, and they bore their rejection
and persecution steadfastly until Our aid arrived – no one can alter God’s kalimāt”
(6:34). Ibn Kathīr explains the kalimāt of God here as His decrees and promises, citing
37:171-173 and 58:21 as examples.81 Ṭabāṭabāʾī cites the same, along with a list of
verses on God’s words/promises being true (10:55, 33:4, 38:84, 39:20). Referring
again to 13:39 (see above on the two types of ajal), he specifies that these kalimāt are
other than those which God alters Himself.82 For Farāhī, the best explanatory term is
the sunna (established way) of God, as he cites parallels in 17:77 and 35:43.83
“The kalima [or kalimāt]84 of your Lord is complete in its truth and justice.
No one can change His kalimāt…” (6:115). Ṭabāṭabāʾī takes the kalima (singular) to
refer to the particular decree/promise to send Muḥammad as a messenger, explaining
its tamām85 as fulfilment of Abraham’s prayer (2:129), scriptural portents (6:20, 6:114,
7:157), and the movement of history (42:13, 61:8-9). To support this meaning of
kalima, he provides other examples. “If it had not been for a kalima from your Lord”
(10:19), he argues, refers to the prior decree/promise in 2:36, “On earth you will have
a place to stay and livelihood for a time”.86
Although Ṭabarī considers the first kalima to refer to the Qurʾān, he explains
“No one can change His kalimāt” similarly as divine decree.87 Amritsarī takes a
slightly different approach, explaining the latter as divine knowledge (maʿlūmāt) and
ability (maqdūrāt), citing, respectively: “They do not comprehend any of His
knowledge except what He wills” (2:255) and “He is the Supreme Master (al-qāhir)
over His creatures” (6:18).88
Turning to usages of kitāb, the first is: “Say, ‘To whom belongs all that is in
the heavens and earth?’ Say, ‘To God. He has taken it [kataba, written] upon
Himself to be merciful…” (6:12). Ṭabāṭabāʾī cites another divine attribute of action
being “written”, namely 58:21 concerning support for His messengers.89
“All the creatures that crawl on the earth and those that fly with their wings are
communities like yourselves. We have missed nothing out of the kitāb – in the end
they will be gathered to their Lord” (6:38). Farāhī and Amritsarī explain the kitāb here
in terms of divine knowledge, citing 6:59 (see below).90 Ibn Kathīr cites 11:6 and 29:60
as parallels to the effect that God knows all creatures and provides for them; Ṭabāṭabāʾī
cites 11:56 and 17:20 for this meaning.91 However, Iṣlāḥī appeals to wider context to
suggest that the kitāb is the Qurʾān, and Ṭabāṭabāʾī cites in support of this meaning:
“We have sent the kitāb down to you explaining everything, and as guidance and
mercy and good news to those who devote themselves to God” (16:89).92
“He has the keys (mafātiḥ) to the unseen: no one knows them but He. He knows
all that is in the land and sea. No leaf falls without His knowledge, nor is there a
single grain in the darkness of the earth, or anything, fresh or withered, that is
not [written] in a clear kitāb” (6:59). Ṭabāṭabāʾī cites the parallel usages for this
register of divine knowledge in 10:61, 20:52, 57:22 and 34:3.93 He contrasts the kitāb
with the mafātiḥ – which he interprets as “storehouses” (khazāʾin)94 – in that the kitāb
“that only the purified can touch” (56:78-79) is, nonetheless, accessible to other than
88 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-Kalām al-Raḥmān, p. 208. Since this means that whatever is known to Him pre-
eternally must come to pass and none can avert His ability to implement His will, the meaning amounts
to the same.
89 Al-Mīzān, 7/28. He also cites 51:23, which is unclear. See also: Madigan, The Qur’an’s Self-Image, 108
ff.
90 Taʿlīqāt, 1/182; Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-Kalām al-Raḥmān, p. 192.
91 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/174; Al-Mīzān, 7/83.
92 Tadabbur, 3/49; Al-Mīzān, 7/83.
93 Al-Mīzān, 7/129.
94 This links the verse to another of his “preeminent verses”, namely 15:21. The meaning “keys” is also
attested (see 2.6.1 below).
76
God, and secondary to the mafātiḥ.95 This divine register, although it contains records
of changing events and realities, is unchanging in itself (13:39, 50:4, 85:22).96
“Those are the ones to whom We gave the kitāb, wisdom, and
prophethood” (6:89) – Ṭabāṭabāʾī explains the kitāb as revealed writings, and ḥukm
as the judgement to be performed thereby (as in 2:213, 4:105 and 5:44/48, which
mention both terms or similar; also 21:78, 38:26 and possibly 26:83).97
As has become evident from the preceding word study, the most thorough
exegete from our Group in terms of thematic study is Ṭabāṭabāʾī, who connects verses
not only to one another, but also to the philosophical understanding linked to his
“foundational verses” such as 13:39, 15:21 and 16:96. Another noteworthy example is
his approach to explaining the wajh (“face”) of God, as mentioned in 6:52.98
Ṭabāṭabāʾī discusses the implications of this term in detail, including to argue that all
those things which the righteous are described as seeking, such as His bounty and
mercy (5:2/35, 17:28) are included in the wajh by virtue of this verse and its parallels
(2:272, 30:38-39, 76:9). Another interesting part of his discussion is his use of 55:27
and 28:88 which say that (only) the wajh will remain, along with 16:96 which says
that what is “with (ʿinda) God” will remain, to argue that all those things “with God”
(as in 3:169, 7:206, 15:21, 21:19) are included in the wajh and remain eternally with
Him.
95 Al-Mīzān, 7/131.
96 Al-Mīzān, 7/130.
97 This is followed by a more detailed treatment of each term in Al-Mīzān, 7/260-264.
98Dakake (Study Quran, p. 358) alludes to a more literal interpretation based upon ḥadīth reports about
beholding God in Paradise; see the discussion below on seeing God (based on 6:103).
77
authorities) 10:90, 20:77 and 26:61 for the meaning of idrāk.99 He and Ibn Kathīr
compare the “non-encompassing vision” with “non-encompassing knowledge”, as
implied in 2:255 (“they do not comprehend any of His knowledge (lā yuḥīṭūna bi-
shayʾin min ʿilmih) except what He wills”) and 20:110 (“He knows what is before and
behind them, though they do not comprehend Him (lā yuḥīṭūna bihī ʿilman)”).100
Other verses are brought to support the beatific vision: “On that Day there will
be radiant faces, looking (nāẓira) towards their Lord” (75:22-23), and the contrary
implication of this description of the unbelievers: “On that Day they will be screened
off (maḥjūbūn) from their Lord” (83:15).101 Shinqīṭī also refers to the “ziyāda”
(increase) mentioned in 10:26 – or rather its interpretation in the light of ḥadīth.102 All
of these pertain to the Hereafter, hence the possibility of specifying the negation to this
life: Amritsarī cites the verse in which Moses is told “You shall not see Me” (7:143)103,
which he takes also to refer only to this worldly existence and earthly eyes.104 The
same can be argued concerning the narration from ʿĀʾisha in which she denied that the
Prophet ever saw God, citing 6:103 along with: “It is not granted to any mortal that
God should speak to him except through revelation or from behind a veil, or by sending
a messenger to reveal by His command what He will” (42:51).105
Second, the nature of Abraham’s dialogue with his people, in which he said of
various heavenly phenomena, “This is my Lord” (6:76-78). Ibn Kathīr argues that
Abraham never believed that any of the heavenly phenomena were truly his rabb, but
said so for argument’s sake (“as munāẓir, not nāẓir”). He cites verses praising
Abraham’s monotheism, even from youth; he had earlier debated his people over
idolatry: “Long ago We bestowed right judgement on Abraham and We knew him
well. He said to his father (ab)106 and his people, ‘What are these images to which you
are so devoted?’” (21:51-52). He further cites 30:30 and 7:172 with the concept of fiṭra
(taken to imply an innate inclination to monotheism) to say that if such applies to
common people, it must be more so for Abraham.107 Shinqīṭī further draws from
context, in that it seems that the preceding verse refers also to a prior stage: “In this
way We showed108 Abraham [God’s] mighty dominion over the heavens and the earth,
so that he might be a firm believer.” (6:75). Abraham addresses the people, saying,
“How can you argue with me about God when He has [already] guided me (qad
hadāni)?” (6:80), and this event is subsequently described as “the argument (ḥujja)
We gave to Abraham against his people” (6:83).109
Ṭabāṭabāʾī accepts this as a plausible reading but seems to prefer the view that
Abraham was exploring the possibility of a secondary rabb (i.e. controller of affairs)
alongside Allāh. He adduces evidence from the tone of Abraham’s discourse,
including the use of the masculine demonstrative (hādhā) for the sun (which is
grammatically feminine, as Abraham is quoted as acknowledging in 2:258, a later
incident).110 He affirms that Abraham knew Allāh (19:43-47), but explains 21:51
106This “father”, of course, is mentioned just prior in 6:74, along with the name “Āzar”: this figure is a
point of contention due to the stance of the Shīʿa and many Sunnīs that the direct ancestors of
Muḥammad could not have been unbelievers. Ṭabāṭabāʾī (Al-Mīzān, 7/170) constructs a thematic case
for Āzar not being the biological father of Abraham, as the term ab can be used in a variety of
metaphorical senses (e.g. 2:133, 12:38). He adduces evidence from the supplication made in 14:41 (using
the term wālid, which is exclusive to biological parents; cf. 26:86), in conjunction with 60:4 with its
explanation. His argument is that Abraham had already disavowed Āzar by the time he prayed for
forgiveness for his wālidayn at the end of his own life (14:41), so these must refer to different people.
Dakake (p. 368) suggests that this opinion resolves the apparent conflict with the Quranic imperative to
maintain ties even with disbelieving parents (31:15); being in the words of Luqmān, it suggests timeless
wisdom. For a novel perspective on the appropriateness of the name Āzar as an Arabic “translation” of
Terah/Térach, see Abū Siʿda, Min Iʿjāz al-Qurʾān fī Aʿjamī al-Qurʾān, 1/297–305.
107Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/209. Dakake notes that Abraham used a rhetorical “I am sick” in 37:88-
89 (Study Quran, p. 369).
108 It should be noted that the verb nurī (here “showed”) is imperfect.
109Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 251. Iṣlāḥī’s argument for this interpretation appeals to the theme of the entire sūra
and the purpose of this passage as the climax of the argument being presented to Quraysh (see Mir,
Coherence, p. 112). As such, it would be a matter of certainty for him.
110 For this intricate argument, see Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Al-Mīzān, 7/163–165, where he also engages in a
thematic study of Abraham’s use of pronouns in reference to idols, studying 21:63-67 and 26:70-73.
Regarding Abraham’s objection to “those who/that set (al-āfilīn)”, Ṭabāṭabāʾī notes its sound plural and
draws on his thematic study to explain the sense as: “I would not even respect rational beings that
disappeared, let alone non-rational ones” (ibid, 7/184).
79
differently from Ibn Kathīr et al: Abraham had been given the essentials of
monotheism, but God would continue to guide him into the fullness of truth.
Third, the universality of the Quranic message. “This Qurʾān was revealed
for me to warn you [people] and everyone it reaches” (6:19) – here the indhār
(warning) is taken as representing the Prophetic mission – Ṭabāṭabāʾī cites 29:50 and
35:23 to this effect.111 A list of other references to universal mission is provided: “Say
[Muḥammad], ‘People, I am the Messenger of God to you all’” (7:158), “We have sent
you only to bring good news and warning to all people” (34:28) “Exalted is He who
has sent the Differentiator down to His servant so that it may be a warning to all people
(li-l-ʿālamīn)” (25:1), and “Those groups that deny its truth are promised the Fire”
(11:17).112
Farāhī offers another interpretation of this verse, in which the phrase “everyone
it reaches” is conjoined not to the object, but to the subject: that is, whoever receives
the Qurʾān must also warn with it.113 This sense of responsibility to convey the warning
is also found in 9:122; Iṣlāḥī links this also to the concept of “witness” in 2:143.114
There are two verses of al-Anʿām which may be taken as contrary to the
universality interpretation, however. “This is a blessed Scripture that We have sent
down to confirm what came before it and for you to warn the Mother of Cities and
all around it” (6:92) – Ṭabāṭabāʾī115 mentions a narration indicating that this verse
only referred to Mecca’s immediate environs (thus making it like 26:214, “Warn your
nearest kinsfolk”). To counterbalance this idea, he cites some of the aforementioned
verses, along with the immediate context of verse 90: “Say, ‘I ask no reward for it from
you: it is a lesson for all people (li-l-ʿālamīn).’” Another verse seems to limit the
warning to a specific type of listener: “And warn with it those who realise (yakhāfūn)
that they will be gathered to their Lord” (6:51). Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s explanation is that it
means especially this category.116 As to their identity, one possibility is that they are
the humble devotees described in the following verse; Ibn Kathīr cites 23:57 and 13:21
regarding the people of khawf and khashya (fear and reverence of God, which makes
them readier to heed the warnings).117
Fourth, the accountability of animals and birds. “All the creatures…in the end
they will be gathered to their Lord” (6:38) – the exegetes debated the sense of this
“gathering” (ḥashr): does it denote the death of these creatures, or their resurrection?
The latter implies that animals will be held accountable. Ṭabarī prefers to adhere to the
straightforward sense of the word, citing 38:19 as another such usage.118 For the sense
of resurrection, Ibn Kathīr cites “When wild beasts are herded together” (81:5)119;
Ṭabāṭabāʾī discusses the question at length, citing several verses as prima facie support
for accountability of animals, including: “If God took people to task for the evil they
do, He would not leave one living creature on earth” (16:61).120 The idea that divine
justice extends to all perpetrators is supported by a narration from Abū Hurayra which
maintains that, on Judgement Day, wrongs will be set right between animals, which
will then be turned to dust121; a connection is thus made to 78:40, “On the Day…when
the disbeliever will say, ‘If only I were dust!’” – which is cited as part of this narration.
For ʿAlwānī, the verse is to be taken as a reminder that humans have been honoured
over other creatures (17:70), but that neglecting our specific role and covenant makes
us lower than those creatures (8:22) which will, ultimately, be excused.122
Fifth, the sending of messengers (rusul) among the jinns, which may be
understood from: “Company of jinn and mankind! Did messengers not come from
among you (minkum) to recite My revelations to you and warn that you would meet
this Day?” (6:130). Ṭabarī outlines both stances, with those who denied this stating
that although minkum here addresses both jinns and humans, the point pertains
specifically to the latter. To support this, they cited 55:22 (in which pearls and coral
are said to emerge from “both” seas, whereas in reality this applies to saltwater only)123
and 35:12 (as the “adornments” are from saltwater only) – the latter narrated from Ibn
Jurayj.124 Ibn Kathīr further supports the negating view by citing 4:163-165, 29:27 (re:
Abrahamic legacy, in that jinns are not from his progeny), 25:20 and 12:109.125
Amritsarī seems to accept the messengership of jinns to other jinns, citing the
universality of “Every community has been sent a warner (nadhīr)” (35:24).126 Shinqīṭī
outlines a median view127 to the effect that “messengers” here simply means secondary
“warners”, citing: “When We dispatched toward you a team of jinn listening to the
Qurʾān, when they were in its presence, they said, ‘Be silent!’ When it was finished,
they went back to their people as warners (mundhirīn)” (46:29-Qara’i) – in other
words, they act as messengers on behalf of the human messengers, not appointed by
God directly.
123 Cf. Abdel Haleem, Understanding the Qur’an, pp. 173–174, where it is noted that pearls do emerge from
freshwater. (NB: these sometimes occur naturally, but are generally cultured.) Shinqīṭī (Aḍwāʾ, p. 255)
criticises strongly the use of 55:22 as by Ibn Kathīr and others, since it contradicts the explicit statement
in 35:12 that the “adornments” (which, he says, refers to pearls and coral) are extracted “from each (min
kullin)” of the two seas. Instead, he appeals to the plurals in 71:16 (fīhinna, though the sun and moon only
occupy one heaven) and 91:14 (kadhdhabū, ʿaqarū, whereas there was only one perpetrator, per 54:29).
124 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3347.
125 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/255.
126 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 211.
127 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 255.
128 I have not discussed muteness here because its connotations are different. It does feature in several
of the parallels cited, and Amritsarī mentions 16:76 specifically for this aspect.
82
“Praise belongs to God who created the heavens and the earth and made
darkness (al-ẓulumāt) and light…” (6:1) – the apparent reference is to the physical
phenomena, although some commentators noted the metaphorical usage, and
compared the plural ẓulumāt and singular nūr to the single true path (ṣirāṭ/sabīl) and
multiple false ways (subul) in verse 153.129 Ibn Kathīr refers back to this opening when
discussing “He makes the dawn break...” (6:96) as well as under verse 122, which is
clearly metaphorical.130 This indicates an appreciation on his part of thematic
connections in the sūra.
“Only those who can hear will respond; as for the dead, God will raise them
up, and to Him they will all be returned.” (6:36) – Ṭabarī indicates that the meaning is
to hear/listen intently and effectively, contrasting this with the image in 2:171.131
Ṭabāṭabāʾī contrasts the perception of the unbelievers in this life with that in the next,
citing: “If only you could see the wrongdoers hang their heads before their Lord: ‘Our
Lord, now that we have seen and heard, send us back’” (32:12).132 As for the term
“dead”, Shinqīṭī cites both 6:122 and 35:22 to argue that it means “the unbelievers”,
not its literal meaning.133
“Those who reject Our signs are deaf, dumb, and in total darkness…” (6:39)
– Ṭabāṭabāʾī suggests that the “deaf” and “dumb” here are, respectively, ignorant
129 See Ālūsī (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/18; also 1/67, 1/470). Ibn Kathīr argues (Tafsīr, 3/159) that nūr is singular
due to its superiority to darkness, citing singular yamīn in 16:48; however, under 6:153 (sabīl/subul), he
cites 2:257 which also speaks of metaphorical ẓulumāt/nūr along with a singular walī (divine patron) for
the believers and multiple awliyāʾ (misguiding allies) for the unbelievers (ibid, 3/281). This singular-plural
pairing of light/darkness is a constant in the Qurʾān (see the concept of ʿādāt in 4.2.2 below), including
in contexts of guidance vs. misguidance, at seven junctures. Dakake, for her part, accepts that this implies
the singularity of ultimate truth compared to multiple falsehoods; but she argues for “degrees of light”
corresponding to multiple truths in the created order (Study Quran, p. 341)!
130 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/220, 245.
131 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3171.
132Al-Mīzān, 7/68. Contrast this with 17:72 and 20:124, which describe the unbelievers being raised
“blind”.
133 This is despite his rejection of majāz, especially in the Qurʾān, as outlined in his treatise Manʿ Jawāz
al-Majāz (appended to some editions of Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān). Ibrāhīm al-Maṭʿanī has documented numerous
cases in which Shinqīṭī has deviated from this theoretical position in his exegesis, while generally
eschewing the technical term itself (Al-Majāz fī l-Lugha wa-l-Qurʾān al-Karīm, 2/345–357). Shinqīṭī gathers
a number of verses on this theme: in his commentary of 35:22, he cites 27:80. Under the latter verse
(Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, pp. 1354–1355), he has a detailed discussion of this imagery (also found in 36:70).
Shinqīṭī highlights the roles of context and contrast in deriving these meanings, and bases his conclusions
on a “comprehensive survey” (istiqrāʾ) of the Qur’an. He provides further parallels for these verses in
terms of their purpose, namely to console the Prophet, e.g. 16:37, 5:41, 28:56, 10:100 (and 30:52-53,
which is almost identical to 27:80-81).
83
followers and deceptive leaders134, citing two other verses in this sūra which depict
these actors. The leaders: “tell others not to listen [to the Quran], while they themselves
keep away from it” (6:26) and the masses say: “‘Why has no sign been sent down to
him from his Lord?’ Say, ‘God certainly has the power to send down a sign,’ though
most of them do not know” (6:37). This is unlike the situation in 2:18, in which all
these traits belong to the hypocrites; whereas the open unbelievers are intended in
2:7.135
“Certainly insights (baṣāʾir) have come to you from your Lord. So whoever
sees, it is to the benefit of his own soul, and whoever remains blind, it is to its
detriment…” (6:104-Qara’i) – Ṭabarī narrates from Ibn Zayd that the term baṣāʾīr136
refers to clear proofs which are perceived by the heart, not the eyes, as indicated by:
“Have these people [of Mecca] not travelled through the land with hearts to understand
and ears to hear? It is not people’s eyes that are blind, but their hearts within their
breasts.” (22:46).137 This invites a broadening of the thematic study to incorporate
other dimensions of Quranic epistemology.
“Is a dead person brought back to life by Us, and given light with which to
walk among people, comparable to someone trapped in deep darkness who cannot
escape?...” (6:122). Amritsarī takes the reference to be to the Prophet receiving the
guiding light of the Qurʾān (42:52), and, by extension to the believers who convey his
message (12:108).138 Iṣlāḥī agrees on the light being the Qurʾān, based on the
preceding context (6:114-119); however, he takes the former lifelessness to refer to
unbelief, thereby excluding the Prophet. Drawing again from the preceding verses, he
explains the darknesses (ẓulumāt) in two ways. First, as doubts: “They follow nothing
but speculation (ẓann); they are merely guessing” (6:116); second, as desires: “But
many lead others astray by their desires (ahwāʾ), without any true knowledge”
134 Al-Mīzān, 7/86. Hence “[variously] deaf and dumb, [both] in total darkness”.
135 Al-Mīzān, 7/86.
The word occurs five times in the Qurʾān: Muqātil (Tafsīr, 1/363) cites 7:203. It also describes Moses’
136
(6:119).139 Ṭabāṭabāʾī argues that elite believers possess life and perception distinct
from others, even beyond the metaphorical level. For life, he cites 16:97 as well as
58:22, which speaks of believers receiving a rūḥ (interpreted as life-spirit) from God
– this meaning may be imparted similarly to 42:52, which describes the Qurʾān as rūḥ.
For perception, he cites 7:179, describing the ineffectual faculties of unbelievers. He
takes the “light” here to be knowledge which stems from faith and guidance.140
After this study of the verses, their concepts and interconnections, I have
summarised the citations provided by the Group into the following table, which could
certainly be expanded with more references. It indicates the range of passages in which
these individual images for belief and unbelief occur, and how they are combined or
conflated in various places.
Hearing/deafness
Light/darkness + 6:39
Hearing/deafness
Seeing/blindness + 27:80-81
Hearing/deafness +
Life/death
141 See for example: Gwynne, Logic, Rhetoric and Legal Reasoning in the Qurʾān, and Almaʿī, Manāhij al-Jadal
fī l-Qurʾān al-Karīm. Farāhī wrote Ḥujaj al-Qurʾān as a critique of Greek logic and philosophy.
142Dakake (Study Quran, p. 352) notes a thread throughout this sūra regarding the futility of miracles for
stubborn folk, adding verses 4, 25 and 46 to those listed here.
86
“They also say, ‘Why has no sign been sent down to him from his Lord?’ Say, ‘God
certainly has the power to send down a sign,’ though most of them do not know:”
(6:37) “They swear by God with their most solemn oaths that if a miraculous sign
came to them they would believe in it. Say [Prophet], ‘Signs are in the power of God
alone.’ What will make you [believers] realize that even if a sign came to them they
still would not believe?” (6:109) “And when a sign comes to them, they say, ‘We will
not believe until we are given the like of what was given to Allah’s apostles.’ Allah
knows best where to place His apostleship!” (6:124-Qara’i)
The Group of exegetes are mostly in agreement concerning how to
contextualise the demands expressed or refuted in these verses. One passage from
Sūrat al-Isrāʾ is quoted repeatedly, which mentions all three aspects: “They say, ‘We
will not believe for you [Muhammad] until you make a spring gush out of the ground
for us… [and other miracles]; or bring God and the angels before us face to face; or
have a house made of gold; or ascend into the sky – even then, we will not believe in
your ascension until you send a real book down for us to read.’ Say, ‘Glory be to my
Lord! Am I anything but a mortal, a messenger?’ […] Say, ‘If there were angels
walking about on earth, feeling at home, We would have sent them an angel from
Heaven as a messenger’ (17:90-95). This passage mentions angels twice, the first in a
way comparable to 6:158 (discussed below), and the second is part of a discourse about
the rationale behind human beings being sent as messengers. Critics of Muḥammad
are objecting to the very fact that he is not an angel, and in other verses they are
demanding that an angel be sent to accompany him – the purpose elaborated in 25:7,
“to help him with his warnings”.143 Ṭabāṭabāʾī advances a second possibility: that they
were calling for the angel to bring the punishment warned of by the Prophet (41:14);
he points out that they had already been informed that an angel was involved in
revelation (e.g. 81:19 etc.).144
The arguments made in response to these contentions are of three types: first,
that a human being is most suited to the task of inviting fellow humans (e.g. 3:164 and
Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3135. Shinqīṭī used this example in his introduction as “bayān of the purpose of a
143
16:43).145 Second: hence, as expressed in 6:9, the angel would have to be in human
form to be approachable, and this would not remove the scepticism.146 Third: if it were
to come in angelic form, this would be among the class of miraculous events which
preclude genuine free choice in belief and would herald the end of this life of testing.
The phrase quḍiya l-amr (“the matter would be settled”) appears first in this context
(6:8) and subsequently in the context of calling for judgement to be hastened (6:58).
Ibn Kathīr makes a link to 15:7-8 and 25:21-22, both of which indicate that the sending
of angels heralds the end-times and will be bad news for the rejecters. The “coming of
the Lord and angels” is paralleled147 by 2:210, 16:33 and 89:22; as for “one/some of
His āyāt” (6:158), Ṭabāṭabāʾī explains these variously as an overwhelming sign which
precludes genuine choice (27:82 and 32:28-29; he explains the latter with reference to
fatḥ in 7:89 and 14:15), or the punishment itself (40:84-85).148
The related demands are for kitāb (book or writing) and the broader category
of āya (sign/miracle). For the former, both 17:93 (see above) and 4:153 (which refers
to People of the Book) were linked to by the Group.149 Ṭabāṭabāʾī additionally suggests
that the parchment (qirṭāṣ) was to demonstrate a source for the revelation external to
the Prophet, even though the angel was indeed external (26:192-194).150 Regarding
miracles, Amritsarī points out that the Meccans had already witnessed the splitting of
the moon (54:1-2); hence the reference here must be to a specific sign of their
choosing.151 However, in 6:35 (see also 13:38)152, it is emphasised that this is not the
145 Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/163; Amritsarī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 187.
146Ṭabāṭabāʾī cites 43:60 as a potential support for this denoting transformation, whereas “most verses”
suggest that it is only a matter of appearance (Al-Mīzān, 7/24). Dakake cites 19:17 as an example of an
angel appearing in human form (Study Quran, p. 343).
147Iṣlāḥī, Tadabbur, 3/208. Shinqīṭī (Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, intro p. 11) gives this as an example of fleshing out
details (“dhikr al-mutaʿalliq”).
148Al-Mīzān, 7/400. He also underlines, by citing 10:47-53 and 8:33, that God intends to grant respite
until the allotted time of judgement.
149 Paret (Konkordanz, p. 135) adds 74:52. Ālūsī (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/45–46) links 6:7 to a sabab report
pertaining to the demand made by several polytheists and does not cite these Quranic references. For
ʿAlwānī (Tafsīr Sūrat al-Anʿām, p. 52), the verse is connected to the objection to the Qurʾān being revealed
piecemeal (25:32; Dakake adds 28:48); Ibn ʿĀshūr (Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 7/122) discusses the possibility
that this sūra was revealed in one piece by way of response to this objection. However, Ālūsī considers
the reports on which this hypothesis is based to be highly questionable (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/6–7).
150 Al-Mīzān, 7/19.
151 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 192 and repeatedly.
152 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 192.
88
prerogative of the Prophet; the rhetorical instruction to “seek a tunnel into the ground
or a ladder into the sky” is compared by Farāhī153 to that directed at his enemies in
22:15. Similar to the argument concerning angels, Ibn Kathīr cites 26:4 for the “little-
known” wisdom of not sending miracles, namely that it would result in forced belief;
he adds 17:59, which speaks of the obstinacy of former peoples in the face of
miracles.154 Thus the argument is that the idolaters of Mecca would do the same if
given what they asked (see 7:132, 10:96-97/101, 15:14-15, 52:44).155 Indeed, as 6:124
indicates, they would not stop short of demanding the mission and leadership of the
messengers. 156 Instead, the Qurʾān with its miraculous and guiding āyāt ought to be
their focus: “They say, ‘Why have no miracles been sent to him by his Lord?’ Say,
‘Miracles lie in God’s hands; I am simply here to warn you plainly.’ Do they not think
it is enough that We have sent down to you the Scripture that is recited to them?”
(29:50-51).157
As can be seen in Figure 3 below, there are occasionally pairs of verses which
balance each other in terms of emphasis on human and divine will (see verses 35-36159
and 148-149). The balance may be found within a single verse, as Farāhī argues
concerning 6:125: it is “those who do not have faith” who are constricted and defiled
as a result of their unbelief. In this, he appeals to the muḥkam (i.e. foundational verses
and concepts) of the Qurʾān.160 Such a theological question is a key test for the theory
of muḥkam vs. mutashābih verses (see 3.3.1 below), as the distinction may be
subjective. In any case, the Group of exegetes did cite certain verses with more
frequency (e.g. 61:5), thus treating them as clearer and hence suitable to explain the
more problematic expressions. It should be noted also that a single expression may be
interpreted in different ways and cited to various ends: hence my categorisations in the
table below should be understood as approximate.
The verses of this sūra include repeated references to God’s power to guide or
misguide. It is repeatedly said that “If God had willed” then all would have been
guided, or the wrongdoers would not have done wrong. An affirmative statement is
made in 6:107, “Had Allah wished they would not have ascribed partners [to Him]” –
then refuted when used as an argument by the idolaters in 6:148: “Had Allah wished
we would not have ascribed any partner [to Him]”.161 A narration from Ibn ʿAbbās162
explains the latter as a claim that God accepted their shirk, whereas the preceding verse
is comparable to other statements to the effect that God could have guided them all if
He so wished. Amritsarī argues that although their statement is true in itself, the
argument is flawed: he cites 39:7 to indicate that God’s will (mashīʾa) does not entail
His satisfaction (riḍā).163
159Dakake takes the expression “Had God willed, He would have gathered them all to guidance” (Study
Quran translation) to imply two contrary realities: those who “refuse all such guidance” and those “guided
by other religious paths” (hence hudā without jamʿ)! For the latter, she cites 5:48 and others (Study Quran,
p. 351).
160 Taʿlīqāt, 1/198. I would suggest that, rather than appealing to other verses considered muḥkam, the
inherent tension between the two realities should be appreciated: after all, the two have been juxtaposed
in a single verse and this implies a deliberate paradox rather than something to explain away with firm
theological positions (for or against human volition).
161 Both from Qara’i translation.
162 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3392.
163 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 215.
90
164Al-Mīzān 7/326. ʿAlwānī (Tafsīr Sūrat al-Anʿām, p. 109) suggests that the ascription to God here better
suits the purpose of promoting tolerance: since the people’s misguidance is ultimately part of God’s plan,
there is no reason to curse them.
165 Al-Mīzān, 7/304.
166 Al-Mīzān, 7/305–307.
91
§ “That is Allah, your Lord, there is no - 21:23 “He is not questioned concerning
god except Him, the creator of all what He does, but they are
things” (6:102) questioned”
§ “…[so that they] say, ‘You have - 22:53
received instruction,’ and so that We - 32:13 “Had We wished We would have
may make it clear for a people who given every soul its guidance, but My
have knowledge” (6:105) word became due [against the defiant]:
§ “Had Allah wished they would not ‘Surely I will fill hell with all the [guilty]
have ascribed partners” (6:107) jinn and humans’”
§ “That is how to every people We - 41:44
have made their conduct seem - 49:7 – faith etc. placed in heart by God
decorous” (6:108) - 74:31
§ “Had your Lord wished, they would - 76:29-30 “But you do not wish unless it
not have done it. So leave them with is wished by Allah”
what they fabricate” (6:112, 6:137) - 81:27-29
§ “Thus have We installed in every
town its major criminals that they
may plot therein” (6:123)
§ “Whomever Allah desires to guide,
He opens his breast to Islam, and
whomever He desires to lead astray,
He makes his breast narrow and
straitened as if he were climbing to a
height. Thus does Allah lay [spiritual]
defilement on those who do not
have faith” (6:125)
§ “Say, ‘To Allah belongs the
conclusive argument. Had He
wished, He would have surely guided
you all.’” (6:149)
In al-Anʿām: “Do not kill your children out of poverty (min imlāq) – We will
provide for you and for them” (6:151)167; and in al-Isrāʾ: “Do not kill your children for
fear of poverty (khashyata imlāq) – We shall provide for them and for you – killing
them is a great sin” (17:31). The first difference which draws attention is between the
expressions min imlāq and khashyata imlāq: should they be explained in terms of each
other? Muqātil apparently did this, glossing min imlāq with khashyata l-faqr.168 The
other difference is between the order of the pronouns “you” (parents) and “them”
(children). Ibn Kathīr explains the second difference with reference to the first,
pointing out that in 6:151, poverty is a reality; as such, provision for the parents is
given priority in mention, as though the children will be a source of provision. The
poverty in 17:31 is, as yet, only feared: so provision for the children was mentioned
first, followed by the continuation of the parents’ provision.169
Regarding contradictions, Ṭabarī narrates that Ibn ʿAbbās was asked about
these verses: “They will only say, ‘By God, our Lord, we have not set up partners
beside Him!’ See how they lie against themselves and how those they invented have
deserted them.” (6:23-24), compared to others which negate the possibility of lying:
“They will not be able to hide anything from God” (4:42). Ibn ʿAbbās replied that the
former occurs prior to their mouths being sealed (at which point the limbs will testify
in truth).170 Ṭabāṭabāʾī raises the same question with reference to this verse and the
false oaths of the hypocrites171 in 58:18; his response is that these are simply futile
utterances of falsehood, which have become part of their nature (4:42, 38:64): they
neither expect nor manage to deceive anyone on that day.172
167I adjusted this from Abdel Haleem’s “in fear of poverty”, which itself must be a synthesis, consistent
with the wording in both verses.
168Tafsīr Muqātil, 1/378. See also Amritsarī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 215 (“min khawf al-faqr”). Neither cited
17:31 here.
169Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/275. See Ibn al-Zubayr’s Milāk al-Taʾwīl (1/479) and its source-book Durrat
al-Tanzīl (p. 102), in which al-Khaṭīb al-Iskāfī (d. 420/1029) advances this same argument. These
sources are further explored further under 4.3.
170 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3152.
171Ibn Kathīr denies the possibility that 6:23 pertains to hypocrites, contrary to a report from Ibn ʿAbbās
(see Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/167). His reasoning is that the hypocrites did not exist in Mecca, when
al-Anʿām was revealed. However, under 6:28, he suggests that the hypocrites may be intended, citing
29:11 as another Meccan verse which mentions hypocrites explicitly (ibid, 3/169)!
172 Al-Mīzān, 7/52.
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The next example concerns a phrase occurring twice in the sūra: “Say, ‘I have
been commanded to be the first of those who submit (awwala man aslama)” (6:14).173
“He has no partner, and this [creed] I have been commanded [to follow], and I am the
first of those who submit (awwalu l-muslimīn)” (6:163). This is obviously in tension
with all the references to the islām of previous prophets and peoples. Ibn Kathīr’s
solution is to qualify this “first” as pertaining to the present nation.174 Ṭabāṭabāʾī
disagrees with this approach, arguing that the sense of “first” is in degree, not
chronology.175
A final example pertains to a juristic question, as well as to chronology of
revelation. “Say, ‘In all that has been revealed to me, I find nothing forbidden for
people to eat, except for carrion, flowing blood, pig’s meat – it is loathsome – or
a sinful offering over which any name other than God’s has been invoked’” (6:145).
Shinqīṭī176 has an extensive discussion of the implications of this verse, which – along
with 16:115 (later Meccan)177 and 2:173 (Medinan) – appears to limit prohibited foods
to four categories, whereas others prohibit specific items (like wine in 5:90) or the
category of evil things (khabāʾith, 7:157). His essential point is that the limitation to
four held true until later prohibitions were revealed.178 Farāhī takes a different
approach and explains this with appeal to context (Iṣlāḥī specifies 6:138-139)179 as
referring to the true laws inherited from Abraham, which were followed by the
temporary banning of some foods for the Israelites (6:146).180 This would explain the
wording here – “nothing else in all that has been revealed to me” – being especially
limiting, since it pertains to Abrahamic guidance while rejecting the claims of the
173 Qara’i translation. Paret cites 39:12 for this phrase (Konkordanz, p. 136). Dakake cites 7:143
(mistakenly printed as 153) and 26:51, with similar statements from Moses and the sorcerers, respectively
(and not both from Moses, as she states): Study Qur’an, p. 345.
174Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/294. He cites the following references to earlier islām and monotheism:
2:130-132, 5:44/111, 10:72/84-86, 12:101, 21:25.
175 Al-Mīzān, 7/408.
176 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, pp. 268–279.
177He advances two pieces of evidence that Sūrat al-Naḥl came later than al-Anʿām: 16:118 refers back
to 6:146; and the prophecy in 6:148 was described as fulfilled in 16:35 (cf. note 34 above).
178 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 270.
179 Tadabbur, 3/191.
180 Taʿlīqāt, 1/201.
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2.4 – Abrogation
In the works surveyed, the following ten verses (or verse-fragments) of Sūrat
al-Anʿām are described by one or more exegetes as having been abrogated by another
verse of the Qurʾān: 15, 66, 69, 70, 106, 107, 121, 141, 152, 159.182 Of these, half were
said to be abrogated by the so-called “Sword Verse” of Sūrat al-Tawba and will be
discussed together below. Since naskh pertains, by definition, to “rulings”, the other
examples are mostly in the juristic domain – but not exclusively.
It is evident that claims of abrogation within this sūra are found more
frequently with the early sources as represented by Muqātil and Ṭabarī. In some cases,
this is treated as a matter of transmission from early authorities, and at other times
argued on the basis of meaning and chronology. There is no case of agreement on any
of the verses being abrogated. Although the Group under study all affirm183 the
181Taʿlīqāt, 1/204. Cf. Neuwirth’s reading which equates it to Moses’ Decalogue (as earlier expounded
and adapted in Q 17:22-39), such that the following verse (6:154) represents the rest of the scripture
“then” being given to Moses (‘A Discovery of Evil in the Qur’an?’ in Scripture, Poetry and the Making of a
Community, p. 266). She classifies this passage as “Early Medinan”. Ghamidi takes the list of four on face
value as the only prohibited “edibles”, i.e. things ordinarily considered as food by people (Al-Bayān, p.
16).
182Ibn al-Jawzī (Nawāsikh al-Qurʾān, p. 423 ff.) lists eighteen claimed abrogated verses in this sūra, of which
thirteen are said to be abrogated by the “Sword Verse”. Of these, he argues against abrogation in most
cases; sometimes he leaves his own judgment unstated (though it is implied that he considers them non-
abrogated, too); and in the case of 6:68, he seems to be the one advancing the suggestion (which would,
however, be overturned by the same arguments he used against the others). The remaining five verses
are as listed here, except that he mentions 6:145 in place of 6:152; he does not consider any of these five
to be abrogated. Ibn al-Jawzī’s list in Sūrat al-Anʿām contains more verses than listed by Qatāda (1),
Naḥḥās (5), Makkī (8), Karmī (12), Ibn al-Bārizī (13), Ibn Ḥazm (14), Fayrūzabādī (14) and Ibn Salāma
(15) – see the editor’s note in Sakhāwī, Jamāl al-Qurrāʾ, 2/296.
183 To ascertain this, I looked initially at their commentaries upon 2:106, as none touched on the issue
in their introductions (if present). The comments of Muqātil (see also 16:101, which he links to 13:39)
and Amritsarī are characteristically brief: the latter glosses āya as ḥukm, i.e. it is the ruling which is
replaced. Ṭabarī underlines this point and explains that declaratives (akhbār) can neither abrogate nor
be abrogated. Ibn Kathīr includes a brief uṣūlī definition. In the case of Shinqīṭī, the discussion of naskh
(and of 2:106) occurs under 16:101, where he emphasises that abrogation can only be established by
means of a text in Qurʾān or Sunna, not by reason, consensus or analogy. Ṭabāṭabāʾī makes a distinction
between the phenomenon of naskh on one hand, and those of takhṣīṣ, taqyīd and tabyīn on the other. Iṣlāḥī
affirms the abrogation of some verses by others, in which case both are still found in the Quranic text;
he notes that his discussion draws upon the research of Farāhī.
96
principle of naskh and the existence of abrogated verses in the Qurʾān, it seems that
the later (and more TQQ-oriented) exegetes took a minimalist approach in this regard.
Most remained silent on the issue when discussing these identified verses, implying
that they saw no particular merit in the claim of abrogation; indeed, there are several
instances of critique of this claim, most notably from Ṭabāṭabāʾī. In cases where the
claim of abrogation arose from an apparent tension or contradiction, these exegetes
may have seen no such tension to resolve, or they preferred to use such opportunities
to explain more fully and reconcile the meanings. Here I address general cases before
looking at claims surrounding the Sword Verse.
sentences (khabar) which are not subject to abrogation – he discounts the possibility
of an implied ruling. He compares this verse to 39:65 with its similar conditional using
particle in – “If you ascribe a partner to God…” – as though to demonstrate that the
hypothetical punishment would not be cancelled altogether, even if the disobedience
upon which it is predicated is ruled out by the Prophet’s infallibility or the promise of
forgiveness in 48:2.
Amritsarī also cites 39:65 to argue that there is a principle being underlined
here, namely that the Prophet is liable to be held to account like any other human
being.188 This is in tension with his insistence (based on 3:110, noted above in 2.2.3)
that it is inconceivable that the Prophet could commit kufr – hence the prohibition just
prior – “Do not be one of the idolaters (mushrikīn)” (6:14) – is for “continued
compliance”. His essential point may be supported by saying that the “disobedience”
(ʿiṣyān) in 6:15 is a substituted expression for that shirk, in which case there would be
consistency in terms of the Prophet being subject to commands, prohibitions and their
corresponding rewards and punishments. 189 If the verse is taken in this way, rather than
an expression of actual fear, then the revelation of 48:2 would not negate its contents.
Moreover, 39:65 (and more so 4:48/116) indicates that shirk itself will not be forgiven
(even, hypothetically, from Prophets), which presumably would exclude such from the
promise in 48:2.
Addressing the apparent tension which, presumably, led to the claim of
abrogation, the wider exegetical tradition offers some solutions. Abū Manṣūr al-
Māturīdī190, a contemporary of Ṭabarī, notes that people had questioned how the
Prophet could fear punishment even though he had been informed (whether in 48:2 or
otherwise) that all his prior and future misdeeds had been forgiven; he cites an answer
to the effect that the forgiveness is predicated upon that state of fear. As noted by a
commentator upon his Taʾwīlāt191, this does not preclude divine fore-knowledge that
there is nothing to fear. Indeed, the state of fear (khawf and similar) may be seen in a
broader Quranic context as a positive trait which the Prophet should not be without;
and Muḥammad Rashīd Riḍā notes that there is nothing to negate fear which is born
of reverence (ijlāl wa taʿẓīm).192
Another strategy regarding this verse is to take the fear, rather than the
punishment, as the effective apodosis of the conditional “If I disobey my Lord”, hence:
only if disobedience were possible for the Prophet would there be a punishment for
him to fear.193 For Ālūsī, the statement should be understood in terms of its
argumentative value, namely to imply that the polytheistic listeners are more worthy
of this fear.194 He further negates the tension between fear and infallibility by alluding
to the Ashʿarite doctrine of God’s absolute volition and freedom from obligation.195
from Ibn Jurayj197 which says that this verse indicates that if the believers do sit with
the mockers, they will not be held accountable for their mocking (“The righteous are
not in any way held accountable”)198; thus the abrogating phrase, as Ibn Kathīr
clarifies, is: “You yourselves will be like them”, i.e. equal in sin.199
However, the preferred explanation of Ibn Kathīr and the rest of the Group is
that 6:69 absolves the believers of negligence towards the unbelievers upon turning
away from their mocking: hence the ruling of “being like them” (4:140) applies only
to those who “sit after remembering” (6:68). Ṭabāṭabāʾī argues against abrogation by
saying that if 4:140 were to abrogate 69, then 69 would have abrogated 68 – assuming
that it grants permission after prohibition, and that the ruling expressed to the Prophet
in the singular extends to all believers200 – but this is untenable due to their concurrent
revelation.201 Ibn ʿAṭiyya (d. 546/1147) points out that the later verse makes explicit
reference to the earlier one in a way which reinforces the original meaning, rather than
replacing it.202
Muṣṭafā Zayd critiques this and similar reports in terms of its chain of narration: see Zayd, Al-Naskh,
197
1/466.
198 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3219.
199 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/197.
200This would remove the apparent problem of Satan being said to cause the Prophet to forget (see
Dakake, p. 365, who cites 22:52 in support of this possibility). See Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/227–228 and
17/368 ff. for this issue. In contrast, Farāhī takes the shayṭān of 22:52 to be human and jinn enemies of
the Prophets – as in 6:112 and 121 – and interprets the verse as describing the Qurʾān’s abrogation of
corrupted scriptures (see Niẓām al-Qurʾān, 1/427–434).
201 In Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s narration study: Al-Mīzān, 7/158.
202 Al-Muḥarrar al-Wajīz, p. 631.
203 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3329.
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made explicit in 6:145 (as does Amritsarī, noting the ruling of fisq in both204); whereas
the opposing view (that matrūk al-tasmiya is likewise prohibited) is based partly on
5:4 – “…So eat what they catch for you, but [first] pronounce God’s name over it” –
and accords to the apparent wording of this verse.205
Here the question arises regarding the permission to eat “the food of those
given the Scripture” in 5:5, a Medinan verse said by ʿIkrima and al-Ḥasan to have
abrogated this verse and expressed an exception (nasakha wa istathnā). After citing
their opinion, Ṭabarī argues that the later verse pertains to a distinct ruling: “In this
verse (6:121) God only prohibited for us carrion and that which is slaughtered to false
deities, whereas the meat (dhabāʾiḥ) of the People of the Book is acceptably
slaughtered (dhakiyya) whether they pronounce [God’s name] or not, on account of
being people of monotheism and observant of rulings in divine scriptures.”206
Ibn Kathīr concurs with Ṭabarī’s conclusion and notes that those who claimed
naskh intended takhṣīṣ (particularisation).207 It seems that Ṭabarī’s view is that neither
naskh nor takhṣīṣ has occurred, due to the divergence of topics. According to
Ṭabāṭabāʾī, the only modification to the ruling – if any – is to remove the (unstated)
requirement of the slaughterer being Muslim: hence there is no contradiction between
the verses that needs to be resolved via naskh.208
210In his chapter critiquing naskh claims, Khūʾī affirms the Imāmī Shīʿite view that this was, and remains,
a separate, recommended payment (Prolegomenon, pp. 238–240).
211 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3372.
212Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/263. See also: See Zayd, Al-Naskh, 2/246–256; and Qaraḍāwī, Fiqh al-
Zakah, 1/177.
213 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, p. 256.
214See the introduction to Aḍwāʾ, p. 8. He cites this as an example of vagueness (ibhām) being resolved
through the clearer word in 4:6.
215 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3399.
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216I could not identify which verse Muqātil takes this to be, as there is no mention of this name under
verses 5, 29, 36 or 41 of Sūrat al-Tawba, which are commonly identified in this connection (Qaraḍāwī,
Fiqh al-Jihād, 1/287).
217Zayd (Al-Naskh, 2/6–7) argues that the mushrikīn mentioned in this verse were the specific polytheists
who had been in conflict with Muḥammad, as the verse’s context indicates. See also Ghazālī, Naḥw
Tafsīr Mawḍūʿī, pp. 141–143.
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freeing him from blame, not a prohibition of fighting.218 The matter will be judged
ultimately by God, as Ibn Kathīr219 points out by citing 22:17 as a parallel for “Their
case rests with God…” in this verse. Amritsarī cites 59:14 to explain why the Prophet
need not concern himself with the people of schisms, who are too divided to pose a
genuine threat.220 Without appealing to abrogation, Iṣlāḥī argues that the disavowal
implied here is made explicit in Sūrat Barāʾa (aka al-Tawba, Q 9, the end of this
“group” of sūras in Iṣlāḥī’s structural theory).221
Points made about 6:159 can be extended likewise to the others claimed by
Muqātil to be abrogated, particularly that they are declaratives and it is hardly
convincing that the Prophet was subsequently appointed as wakīl and ḥafīẓ with the
commencement of fighting. For 6:66, some exegetes provided parallels, thus
supporting the meaning rather than cancelling it. Ibn Kathīr links it to 18:29, which
provides worldly choice with other-worldly consequences222; Amritsarī cites 2:119,
which emphasises that the Prophet “will not be asked” concerning their fate.223 Similar
applies to 6:107, as Ibn Kathīr224 cites 88:21-22, 13:40 and 42:48 (by allusion) to
support its meaning, i.e. that the Prophet’s sole duty is to convey the message;
Amritsarī cites 26:3 regarding the Prophet’s anxiousness for their guidance.225
Ṭabāṭabāʾī226 goes further to argue explicitly that verse 66 could not be abrogated,
because the verse immediately following contains an implicit threat: “Every prophecy
has its fixed time to be fulfilled: you will come to realise this” (6:67). This appeal to
context thus represents another tool employed by those exegetes who seek to minimise
the application of abrogation theory.227
The two verses identified by Ṭabarī as abrogated by 9:5 are more explicit in
instructing the Prophet to “turn away” or “leave alone” his opponents: “Leave (dhar)
those who take their religion for a mere game and distraction…” (6:70); “…And turn
away (aʿriḍ) from the polytheists” (6:106). He narrates the abrogation of the former
from Qatāda; the latter is narrated from Ibn ʿAbbās with the addition that wordings “of
this kind” (wa naḥwuh), i.e. advocating tolerance of the polytheists, were all abrogated
by “Wherever you encounter the idolaters, kill them” (9:5).228
Although the remainder of the Group did not comment on these additional
claims of abrogation,229 it is evident that similar points of reconciliation can be made
between the meanings of these verses and the call to continuous warfare understood
(not by all, as we shall see) to be in 9:5 or other putative “sword verses”. Ṭabarī himself
narrates from Mujāhid that 6:70 is paralleled by 74:11 in conveying a threat concerning
the torment awaiting in the Hereafter.230 Similar can be said concerning 6:106, which
Amritsarī links to the virtue of patience exhorted in 31:17.
In Chapter 3, I discuss critiques directed at the theory of abrogation (naskh), or
certain varieties of it. Pertinent to the above discussion is that criticism has long been
levelled at its excessive application, particularly the Sword Verse.231 ʿAlī b.
Muḥammad al-Sakhāwī (d. 643/1245) noted that as many as one hundred and twenty-
four verses had been declared – without sound evidence – as abrogated due to this
verse.232 He states that “The only thing which would be abrogated by the verse of
fighting (āyat al-qitāl) is prohibition of fighting”233, and that this does not extend to
verses which were intended to boost the morale of the Prophet and believers by
advocating patience. He further decries the practice of declaring abrogation on mere
– which designates the context as one of faith and ultimate judgement, rather than worldly disputation
and conflict.
228 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3303. Yūsuf al-Qaraḍāwī decries the tendency to cancel out such “ethical
directives” and “the moral dimension of the Islamic personality” (Fiqh al-Jihād, 1/326).
229Shinqīṭī counts 6:106 as abrogated in Dafʿ Īhām al-Iḍṭirāb (p. 132) but does not mention that in Aḍwāʾ
al-Bayān. See 4.3.2 below concerning this separate treatise.
230 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3219. See Ibn al-Jawzī, Nawāsikh, p. 426. Citation of parallels appears to oppose
claims of abrogation, unless the exegete wishes to state that all these parallel verses are abrogated.
231 A thorough contextual study of 9:5 is in Abdel Haleem, Exploring the Qur’an: Context and Impact.
232 Jamāl al-Qurrāʾ, 2/705. Zayd places this total at one hundred and forty (Al-Naskh, 2/10).
233 Jamāl al-Qurrāʾ, 2/705. He also uses the term “āyat al-sayf”.
105
supposition (ẓann), pointing out that the divergence of opinions over which verses are
abrogated or abrogating is a sign that certain knowledge has not obtained in such
cases.234
According to Sakhāwī, narrations from the likes of Ibn ʿAbbās, as cited above,
should not be taken at face value, as the speakers did not intend naskh in its technical
sense of “replacing the ruling of an existing locution (khiṭāb) by means of a subsequent
locution”, but instead as a general term in reference to changing circumstances. He
denies that the earlier statements, such as in this sūra, should be interpreted as
prohibition of fighting, because the Prophet was not in any position to fight at that
stage. By way of analogy, he states: “A poor person is told to be patient with his
poverty, but when he becomes rich, he is obliged to pay zakāt; yet this does not entail
any contradiction between the obligation of zakāt and [the need for] patience, such that
abrogation is said to occur.”235 This concept was later explained by Zarkashī as
representing the “delayed” (munsaʾ)236 category in Q 2:106, rather than the
“abrogated” (mansūkh): the distinction being that the latter entails permanent
cancellation of the earlier ruling, whereas the former allows for return to that earlier
ruling if circumstances dictate. In his recent work Fiqh al-Jihād, Yūsuf al-Qaraḍāwī
criticises this conceptualisation as applied to the Sword Verse by asking: “Is it
reasonable for us to say to people: we are holding back from fighting you at present
on account of our weakness, but as soon as we become strong we are obligated to
attack you in your heartlands until you submit?”237
238In the sūra surveyed, Ṭabāṭabāʾī discusses the impact of these readings in five places. Ibn Kathīr has
two discussions (as does Muqātil), and Shinqīṭī only one. There is no mention of them in Amritsarī,
Farāhī (i.e. his Taʿlīqāt) or Iṣlāḥī.
239 I went through Khārūf’s Al-Muyassar and excluded matters of mere pronunciation (e.g.
ʿalayhim/ʿalayhum), variant dialects (e.g. ghadāh/ghudwa, thamar/thumur) and grammatical/stylistic
variations such as gender (e.g. tawaffat-hu/tawaffāhu). Overall, variations which affect meaning are the
minority.
240This corresponds with narrations recorded in Abū Dāwud al-Sijistānī’s Kitāb al-Maṣāḥif (see pp. 260,
273). Also Dānī, Al-Muqniʿ, pp. 576–577.
241 See Nasser, Transmission, pp. 39–65 (including an overview of Ṭabarī’s attitude to qirāʾāt) and
discussion in 4.3.3 below.
242 This is one of the most controversial variants, but later scholars came to its defence. See Khalīl, Difāʿ
al-Samīn al-Ḥalabī, pp. 54–85. A less famous example is in 6:109, in which Ṭabarī takes the words “What
would make you realise” to be addressed to the believers, stating that if they were directed at the
unbelievers, the final words would be lā tuʾminūna; he belittles that reading as belonging to “a few
Meccans”, whereas it is now canonised in the readings of Ibn ʿĀmir (Levant) and Ḥamza (Iraq) – Jāmiʿ
al-Bayān, 4/3307.
107
pattern concerning which variants each chose to mention. In terms of their approach
to dealing with those readings, there are instances of reductionism (i.e. variants being
explained in terms of each other), and others of pluralism (i.e. meanings treated as
complementary). I will present the Group’s treatment of qirāʾāt in al-Anʿām in two
different ways. First, I summarise in table form Ṭabarī’s interpretation and assessment
of seven variant junctures.243 This is followed by separate examples in which the
exegetes – including Ṭabarī – used Quranic citations in the process of explaining
(tawjīh) and supporting (iḥtijāj) the readings they saw fit to discuss.
response245
55: wa li-tastabīna sabīlu l- “So that the way of the Prefers the standard reading
246
mujrimīn criminals may become clear” because its meaning is
wa li-tastabīna sabīla l- broader247
mujrimīn
243 This is an arbitrary selection of variants which give rise to interesting effects in interpretation and
even translation. I reuse this selection in 4.3.3 below, drawing from a range of tawjīh works. Two facts
should be borne in mind: Ṭabarī, though part of the Group, is not a TQQ exegete; and his discussion
of qirāʾāt is not restricted to canonical readings as in this selection.
244 I am referring here to the sub-reading of Ḥafṣ–ʿĀṣīm, although it is clearly anachronistic to call it
“standard”, a practice in some modern books. However, the term is justified here because it is the base
reading of most of the Group, and it has been treated as the norm throughout this chapter. The question
of which reading each exegete treated as default requires careful examination, made more difficult by
printed editions which assume that this was Ḥafṣ–ʿĀṣīm and adjust citations accordingly. It has been
suggested that Ḥafṣ–ʿĀṣīm was not specifically known to Ṭabarī; I have found prima facie support for
this claim by looking at junctures in which Ḥafṣ–ʿĀṣīm differs from all other readings. In 30:22, for
example, Ṭabarī explains the reading “li-l-ʿālamīn (for the worlds)” and does not mention the Ḥafṣ–ʿĀṣīm
variant (now more widespread throughout the world) as “li-l-ʿālimīn (for people who know)” – see Jāmiʿ
al-Bayān, 8/6516.
245 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3151.
246Another reading with yastabīna is less significant in that it is a question of the masculine/feminine
usage of the word sabīl.
247 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3197.
108
Al-Mīzān, 7/53. He states that he is using the subjunctive reading (Ḥafṣ and Ḥamza, also Yaʿqūb).
253
Most read both in the indicative, and Ibn ʿĀmir read the first indicative, the second subjunctive.
254 See Al-Qaysī, Al-Kashf, 2/7–8. Translating the various qirāʾāt is a sensitive process which requires
careful attention to grammar and the explanations of the exegetes. Dakake (Study Quran, p. 348)
misconstrues Ṭabarī’s explanations, rendering this verse (apparently on the indicative reading, though
she does not make it clear) as: “Would that we were sent back! Then we would not deny…but we would
be among the believers!” (which is indistinguishable from her translation of the alternative reading);
whereas Ṭabarī’s gloss should yield: “Would that we were sent back! And we do not deny… and we are
believers”, which is their lie. However, this reading may also be interpreted to mean the same as the
subjunctive one.
255 All the translations I consulted used some variation on declaring, relating or telling, thus
corresponding to the reading of Nāfiʿ, Ibn Kathīr, ʿĀṣim and Abū Jaʿfar, rather than that of the other
six Readers. NB: in the context of qirāʾāt, Ibn Kathīr is the Meccan reciter (d. 120/738), not the later
exegete.
256 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3198.
257Al-Mīzān, 7/119. He cites 28:11 with the meaning of qatʿ and faṣl, but it is unclear how this sense is
supported there (cf. his commentary on 28:11). See also Bāzmul, Al-Qirāʾāt, 2/545–546.
258 Ibn Kathīr and Abū ʿAmr recited these in the third person.
110
the pronouns in this verse address and refer to the Jews.259 In response to the objection
that revelation is a tenet of Jewish belief, he cites 4:51 and 3:65-67 for parallels, i.e.
surprising pronouncements emanating from obstinacy. For other mentions of the
People of the Book in Meccan revelations, he cites 29:46, 16:118 and unspecified
junctures of Sūrat al-Aʿrāf (while alluding to the possibility that this verse is
Medinan).260
“This is how We explain Our revelations in various ways – though they will
say, [darasta/dārasta/darasat] – to make them clear for those who know” (6:105). The
first two readings quoted refer to the charge that Muḥammad had a human teacher; Ibn
Kathīr cites 25:4-5 and 74:24-25 as parallels.261 Shinqīṭī adds 16:103 and explains the
third reading to mean: “lest they say that they [i.e. the revelatory āyāt] have come to
an end”.262
A final example is qiyaman and qayyiman in: “Say, ‘My Lord has guided me
to a straight path, an upright religion, the faith of Abraham” (6:161). Ṭabarī accepts
both these readings, but for additional usages of the latter he cites 9:36 and 98:5.263
implications of these reports and TQQ linkages; this will impact upon the discussion
of the authority of TQQ as “Prophetic method”, in Chapter 3.
265 In Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī Sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, 8/205; see also 8/543.
266I.e. Muqātil, Amritsarī, Iṣlāḥī. Farāhī’s Taʿlīqāt do not include 6:59. Ṭabāṭabāʾī does discuss it in a
separate section from his bayān of the verse, as described below.
267 Tadabbur, 3/68.
268 Al-Mīzān, 7/127.
269This raises a broader question of how ḥadīths are categorised by the muḥaddithūn as relevant to tafsīr
and linked to specific verses.
270 Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/203.
112
He further argues that these five represent essentially the same category of the unseen
– namely foreknowledge of events – whereas al-ghayb is a much broader concept, as
the verse itself indicates.271
271 Al-Mīzān 7/153. He uses the expression “ʿalā taqdīr siḥhạ tihā”, which implies that he is unconvinced
of the report’s authenticity.
272 In Nawawī, Al-Minhāj Sharḥ Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim ibn al-Ḥajjāj, 2/323.
273 Amritsarī cites 31:13 but not the report. Iṣlāḥī states that the meaning is shirk, but cites neither the
report, nor the verse! ʿAlwānī (Tafsīr Sūrat al-Anʿām, pp. 89–93) departs from the context and direct
meaning of the verse to elaborate on broader concepts of amn (security) on a societal level, and likewise
ẓulm as a multifarious concept. Despite arguing in his introduction that all or most Prophetic
clarifications were based on intraquranic considerations, he does not mention this ḥadīth or link the verse
to 31:13.
274Ṭabāṭabāʾī discusses this report in his bayān section (Al-Mīzān, 7/210) while critiquing a quotation
from M. Rashīd Riḍā, then again alongside other traditions – including Shīʿī reports – in his narration
study (ibid, 7/217 ff.). It is not clear from his explanation how the Prophet’s clarification would have
functioned as solace to his companions (i.e. those who were confused and raised the query).
275 Al-Mīzān, 7/208.
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The focus in the immediate discussion has been how the exegetes, especially
those who took tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān as their primary approach, dealt with this
report which is its best-known example. Whereas most adopted it in a straightforward
fashion, we have seen that Ṭabāṭabāʾī limited its applicability to the verse and its term
ẓulm. Before him, the Muʿtazilite exegete Zamakhsharī maintained that lesser sins
(maʿāṣī amounting to fisq) are indeed intended by this verse, a view which elicited
criticism from later exegetes due to its disregard for the ḥadīth.276 In Chapter 3, we
return to this report to examine a distinct question: does it genuinely constitute an
example of Prophetic TQQ, and what does this entail for the importance and relative
authority of this method? There are also questions of chronology (between al-Anʿām
and Luqmān) which we shall consider at that point.
2.7 – Quranism
2.7.1 – Description
Quranism is the tendency to restrict scriptural authority to the Qurʾān itself,
denying the place afforded to the Prophetic Sunna (as conveyed by ḥadīth narrations)
by mainstream Sunnī and Shīʿī Islam. Those who self-identify as Quranists277 assert
that the Qurʾān is not only sufficient as guidance, but also clear enough to reasoning
minds: as such, there is no justification for relying upon external narrations and the
only reference to be made is intratextual, based upon the language of any passage, its
surrounding context, and other parts of the same book. I suggest that Quranism should
be understood as the extreme end of a spectrum of which the opposite end may be
276Al-Kashshāf, p. 335, and see Shawkānī’s rebuke (Fatḥ al-Qadīr, 2/190). More charitably, Abū Ḥayyān
suggests that Zamakhsharī may not have considered this particular report to be authentic (Tafsīr al-Baḥr
al-Muḥīṭ, 4/176), while Ālūsī points out that he would not accept an āḥād narration which conflicts with
a decisive proof (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 8/276). However, some other commentators opted to address
Zamakhsharī’s reasoning, namely that the word labs (i.e. mixing) precludes the reference being to shirk,
because belief and shirk cannot coexist: Ālūsī cites 12:106 to refute this, as well as pointing out that the
verse need not be a point of contention between the sects since it does not explicitly mention (eternal)
punishment (ibid, 8/277).
277The proponents of this view are generally known in Arabic as Qurʾāniyyūn, but there is no direct
equivalent used for ‘Quranism’. The phenomenon is also known as inkār al-ḥadīth. Labels used by the
various groups themselves include ‘Qurʾān Only” and “Submitters”.
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278 See Saleh, ‘Historiography,’ p. 24. I have already noted in Chapter 1 my disagreement with Saleh’s
proposition that Suyūṭī had signed up fully to Ibn Taymiyya’s ḥadīth-exclusivist approach. Stephen
Burge builds on this theory in his study of Suyūṭī’s methodology in Al-Durr al-Manthūr, but he alludes in
his conclusion to the possibility of reading it instead as “a supplement to other exegeses… a means by
which someone reading an exegesis in the Sunnī core can easily see the relevant aḥādīth related to a
particular exegesis” (Burge, ‘Scattered Pearls,’ p. 271). I cannot see a basis to assume that Suyūṭī
considered Al-Durr as a full tafsīr work: even the title is ambiguous in that regard. Moreover, I see Suyūṭī’s
broader exegetical oeuvre along with Al-Itqān – which is full of linguistic tools etc. to interpret the Qurʾān
– as evidence for my position rather than that of Saleh and Burge. Suyūṭī does not comment on every
verse (or complete verse) in this commentary: in Sūrat al-Anʿām, for example, there are reports related
to 116 verse-fragments, representing a smaller number of verses (Al-Durr al-Manthūr, 6/5 ff.). To
demonstrate Al-Durr’s utility as a thematic resource: Muḥammad b. ʿAlī al-Shawkānī praises it in the
introduction to his own exegesis, stating that he intends to build on it and combine “riwāya and dirāya”
(Fatḥ al-Qadīr, 1/71).
I accept that this is a subjective judgement and that the precise boundaries of what constitutes a
279
“work of tafsīr” are a matter of ongoing debate, as demonstrated by discussions in Görke and Pink (eds.).
280Regarding Yüksel, a Kurdish-Turkish-American writer influenced by Rashad Khalifa (d. 1990; his
own translation is not substantial enough for this study) see Musa, Ḥadīth as Scripture, p. 100. A figure
who influenced Ahmed – and whose Exposition of the Holy Qur’an (Lahore: Tolu-e-Islam Trust, 2010,
translated from Urdu) would have been included if I had encountered it earlier – is Ghulam Ahmad
Parwez (d. 1985), who is discussed extensively in Brown, Rethinking Tradition and Baljon, Modern Muslim
Koran Interpretation.
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disputed passages”281; if this applies to “clergy” by virtue of their training, the very
endeavour of explaining the Qurʾān must surely be problematic from this standpoint.
Indeed, the editors go on to insist, uncontroversially, that their annotations “do not
constitute a source or authority” comparable to divine scripture. However, the next
sentence suggests that theirs is “the best available English translation and the most
accurate in its rendering the meaning of the scripture.”282 Similar claims to objectivity
and superiority are found with Ahmed, who states in his preface: “The work, although
close to translation, is more of an understanding from within the Qur’an itself.”283
2.7.2 – Evaluation
In principle, one may expect Qurʾān-primary and even Qurʾān-only analysis to
yield interesting results, i.e. interpretations not found elsewhere. Although there are
some examples of this provided below, my overall conclusion is that the Quranist
commentators were less sophisticated in their TQQ analysis than others in the group,
especially Farāhī and Ṭabāṭabāʾī. Arguably, their conviction that the Qurʾān does not
require explanation has prevented this movement from developing advanced
hermeneutical theories and techniques. Instead, emphasis is placed on asserting their
departure from the tradition, and, at times, demonstrating modernist credentials.
Rather than shedding the bias they decry in mainstream exegesis, they have made
ḥadīth rejection a primary focus and read that concern into numerous passages of the
Qurʾān, often stretching plausibility and paying little heed to context. An example of
this can be seen in a 2006 letter from the Egyptian Quranist activist Aḥmad Ṣubḥī
Manṣūr284 to the erstwhile Rector of Al-Azhar University, in which he comments on
several verses of al-Anʿām. He takes the Satanic inspiration of 6:112 to refer to the
invention and misattribution of ḥadīths, and the following verse to those who believe
them and create discord thereby. Then the Qurʾān is declared to be the only mediator
(114) because it is perfect, unchanging (115)285 and the only source of certainty –unlike
ḥadīths which generally do not rise above the level of speculation (ẓann) (116). This
interpretation, with which Yüksel concurs286, removes the passage from its context –
a dialogue with the Prophet’s disbelieving opponents – to a commentary on actions by
Muslims which had not yet occurred.
Similarly, Yüksel prefaces his translation of 6:19 with the heading
“Muḥammad was Given Only the Quran”287, and cites verses oft-quoted by Quranists
(6:112-115, 7:2-3, 9:31, 16:89, 17:46, 42:21, 45:6) to support the claim that taking
religious authority from other than the Qurʾān amounts to polytheism. Although he
does not specify the “followers of hadith and sunna” as the referents of this verse or
the following verses (22-24), it may be inferred that he deems them to be included; he
is explicit regarding 6:25, which he takes to foretell the rejection of his group’s “19
miracle”.288 Yüksel goes on to describe those who invent religious prohibitions such
as in dietary laws, “attributing them to God through his messenger” [emphasis mine]
as “modern mushriks” (polytheists).289 Surprisingly, he did not take the kitāb in 6:38,
“We did not leave anything out of the book” (Yüksel’s translation) to refer primarily
to the Qurʾān, though he affirmed this as a secondary meaning (also citing 16:89).290
I shall now present some examples of unusual opinions advanced by the
Quranists. Shabbir Ahmed renders the term ẓālimūn in 6:47 as “oppressors of the
masses” who “violate human rights”, linking this to 11:117, which he translates: “Your
Lord never destroys a community unjustly (for their wrong beliefs alone) as long as its
285 This verse was discussed under 2.3.1 above. The Quranist commentators have taken kalima here to
refer to the Qurʾān, a view which has a precedent in Ṭabarī. Ahmed uses this verse in his Introduction
(xii) as proof that “The Qur’an explains itself”.
286 A Reformist Translation, p. 133.
287 A Reformist Translation, p. 124.
288A Reformist Translation, p. 131. The endnotes contain a scathing rebuke of Yüksel’s father and others
who rejected his theories, lampooning “their intellectual and spiritual genetic link with their
unappreciative ancestors”.
289A Reformist Translation, p. 135, under verse 148. For false prohibitions, he cites parallels in 10:59-60
and 16:112-116. For the description of mushriks, he cites 3:18, 10:59-60 and 16:35 along with the
aforementioned 6:22-24. See also under verses 150 (with which he cites 9:31 and 42:2) and 159 (with
3:105 and 22:52-56).
290A Reformist Translation, p. 131, and see Iṣlāḥī’s opinion in the earlier thematic discussion of kitāb.
Dakake (Study Quran, p. 353) notes that if this is taken to imply the legal sufficiency of the Qurʾān, this
may be because further sources of law are implicit in the Qurʾān, such as Prophetic sunna (33:21, 47:33,
59:7) and consensus of the believers (3:110).
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people are setting things right”.291 Using this parenthesis, Ahmed has combined the
two interpretations of the clause “bi-ẓulm” in the latter verse.292 He has taken ẓulm in
al-Anʿām to pertain to the rights of fellow humans, while in the verse of Hūd, he has
made it a question of belief (rights of God). Simultaneously, he has used the latter part
of 11:117 to support his reading of 6:47.293 In verse 92, Ahmed insists that the common
translation about “guarding prayers” (ʿalā ṣalātihim yuḥāfizūn) “makes no sense”, and
renders the expression as “They ensure following of the Divine Commands”.294 He
remarks along with 6:101 – which asks “How can [God] have a son when He never
chose for Himself a mate?” – that Jesus, too, must have had a father according to
divinely created laws.295 Ahmed translates 6:156 with an interpretation of dirāsa which
makes the verse about falsification of earlier scriptures: “…and we remained unaware
of what they originally read” – he cites 2:79/101, 3:78 and 5:48 as parallels.296
Further examples from Yüksel: he interprets 6:56 to indicate that Muḥammad
worshipped idols before his mission, rendering “innī nuhītu an aʿbuda” as: “I am
warned to stop serving those you call upon…”, and citing 42:52 and 93:7 in support.297
Regarding 6:68, “If you encounter those who make fun of Our signs, then turn away
from them until they move on to a different topic”: he takes this as an indicator of
freedom of belief/unbelief, providing other verses supporting this principle (6:110,
291 The Qur’an as it Explains Itself, p. 221. Under 6:131, which is worded similarly to 11:117, the clause
“bi-ẓulm” is left untranslated (ibid, p. 137). Note that there is inconsistency between different versions of
this translation, as an open-source project.
292 Ṭabarī prefers the opinion that ẓulm here refers to the people’s wrongdoing, specifically shirk, making
reference to 31:13 (Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3348). Ṭabāṭabāʾī takes the other view, i.e. “wrongfully, unjustly”
(Al-Mīzān, 7/368).
293Cf. Arnold Mol, ‘Divine Respite as Ground for Human Rights Discourse: Theological Trends in
Sunnī Tafsīr on Q.11:117,’ in R. Harvey and H. Ramli (eds.) Divine Speech and Prophetology in Medieval and
Contemporary Islamic Thought (Routledge, forthcoming). The chapter was shared kindly by the author.
294 The Qur’an as it Explains Itself, p. 132. The relevance of prayer may not be obvious, but Farāhī explains
it (while linking to 2:45-46) as follows: regular prayer denotes the existence of reverence in the heart,
which stems from belief in the Hereafter, which denotes soundness of heart and readiness to accept the
truth of revelation (Taʿlīqāt, 1/192).
295 The Qur’an as it Explains Itself, p. 133. Ahmed implies that this is Joseph, as “three of the four gospels”
state. Although he does not provide a citation, there are verses within this sūra and elsewhere concerning
the immutability of divine norms.
296 The Qur’an as it Explains Itself, p. 141.
297 A Reformist Translation, pp. 125, 131.
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2:256, 4:140, 10:99, 18:29, 88:20-21)298; he explains 6:110 in a way similar to the
exegetes of the Group (particularly Amritsarī, Iṣlāḥī and Ṭabāṭabāʾī), citing 7:146 to
say that it is prejudice and arrogance which prevents people from perceiving God’s
signs.299 Finally, he links the root meaning in 6:79 – “the One who created (faṭara) the
heavens and the earth” – to 21:30, which he takes to allude to the Big Bang theory (and
21:104 to what is known as the Big Crunch).300
munāsabāt), it is only a further step to assume that the entire sūra may be connected
in this way. The strongest such claims are advanced by the Farāhian school in that they
posit a unifying theme or “axis” (ʿamūd) as a central part of their theory. For al-Anʿām,
per Iṣlāḥī, this is the theme of inviting the idolaters of Quraysh within the broader
group theme (i.e. Q 6-9) of “Islam as the religion of Abraham”.303 There is a potential
circularity in the process of deducing and applying this ʿamūd, which remains a matter
of opinion and ijtihād.
We have already seen one example of this application, in that Farāhī interpreted
the four prohibitions in 6:145 and the longer list of injunctions in 6:151-153 as
expressions of Abrahamic law, appealing to the context and order of the verses. His
argument goes even further, in that he links the preceding phrase “Were you present
(am kuntum shuhadāʾ) when God gave you these commands (waṣṣākum)?” (6:144) to
the passage in Sūrat al-Baqara describing the bequests of Abraham and Jacob (2:132-
133), which use the same verb waṣṣā and the phrase “am kuntum shuhadāʾ”: thus
Farāhī takes the verse in al-Anʿām to be challenging Quraysh to substantiate their
claims with reference to the legacy of Abraham through Ishmael.304 He goes on to say
that the invention of laws contrary to the inherited sharīʿa is the cause of splitting the
community, as expressed in 6:153 and 159.305
If this kind of analysis is a recent development – indeed, a nascent trend – there
are certainly precedents for structural interpretation in the exegetical tradition. My
concern here are such structural considerations that have a tangible impact upon
interpretation, as opposed to those which inform investigations of corpus history or
appreciation of literary beauty. Structural ideas may be expressed in terms of
“sections” of a sūra, or otherwise with reference to running threads or anchors which
appear at various points. Examples of such threads have been noted previously, such
as those on angels, miracles and the question of free will: the fact that exegetes cited
other verses within the sūra as part of their thematic exegesis indicates their
appreciation of its connections and semantic flow, despite their overall “atomism”.
Indeed, one researcher who focused on Ṭabarī’s use of context has suggested that he
took Sūrat al-Anʿām to revolve around “disbelievers who equate others to God”, as he
has referred to this phrase (bi-rabbihim yaʿdilūn) at least thirteen times throughout his
commentary upon the sūra.306 The theme of associating partners with God is
prominent here: indeed, the Arabic word shirk and its derivatives occur more
frequently in al-Anʿām (twenty-nine times) than any other sūra.307 Hence Ṭabarī cited
the same verse from Sūrat Luqmān associated with 6:82 – “Verily, shirk is a
tremendous ẓulm” (31:13) – in his explanation of the expression “bi-ẓulm” in 6:131,
as though a correspondence has been established between these two terms, at least in
Sūrat al-Anʿām.308
2.9 – Conclusions
This sūra-wide analysis of a range of TQQ-focused commentaries has both
substantiated the basic theories outlined in the previous chapter – hence completing
the main descriptive parts of this thesis – and paved the way for the more constructive
approach to theories and methods in the remaining chapters. This original and varied
presentation has demonstrated that tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān represents a range of
methods; the exegetes studied do not share a single approach or reach the same
conclusions concerning the verses they study thematically or comparatively along with
the wider Quranic corpus. There were also few signs that they consulted and engaged
with each other’s contributions, with the exception of the Farāhī–Iṣlāḥī lineage and, to
some extent, Ṭabarī–Ibn Kathīr–Shinqīṭī. All this diversity presents a substantial
challenge to the claims made by some of them (such as Shinqīṭī, and especially
ʿAlwānī) that tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān is so objective and authoritative that it has
the potential to end the debates of the exegetes; not least when some of these divergent
opinions can be traced clearly to sectarian differences or other authorial biases.
306 Qāsim, Dalālat al-Siyāq al-Qurʾānī, 2/442–444. This is fairly similar to Iṣlāḥī’s putative ʿamūd.
307Via the Dictionary feature on the Qur’an Wiki website (www.quran-wiki.com). The next highest
count is Q 9, with twelve occurrences.
308 Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3348.
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Collectively, I would argue that the Group I selected, together with the
supplementary resources, represent the best available material on TQQ, including its
radical trajectory among the Quranists.309 While some (notably Ṭabāṭabāʾī) are richer
in their combination between citations, analysis and thematic study, no single work
would suffice to represent the breadth of TQQ study in Muslim scholarship to date.
Ṭabarī, more so than Muqātil, demonstrates that this type of material is found quite
frequently among the earliest authorities. Ibn Kathīr, if we assume that he intended to
implement Ibn Taymiyya’s “best methods” schema, demonstrates that it is impractical
to exhaust the Qurʾān before consulting the Sunna, and this was not his method even
if the Quranic parallels tend to be cited first. Regarding the Farāhian naẓm exegetes, I
admit that the methodology employed here (focused almost exclusively on
intraquranic citations) was not ideal to highlight the depth of their approach and
contribution; however, it has succeeded in bringing them into a comparative analysis
not seen before.
The case study (see the aggregated table in the Appendix) has underlined the
importance of the concept of the Quranic parallel (naẓīr), while also demonstrating
that evidentiary citations – broadly defined – feature just as prominently as pure
parallels. These parallels themselves have a number of purposes for which they were
employed, or for which they can be employed by later scholars; in this way, the lists
of citations provided by Ibn Kathīr, for example, may be understood as a proto-
concordance as much as an act of tafsīr. This foreshadows the modern works I
consulted (including Paret’s Konkordanz and The Study Quran), which add further
parallels but do not exhaust the cross-references provided in these exegeses; hence
further work would be required for a thorough concordance which takes the exegetical
tradition into account (see 4.2.1 below).
While the Group’s engagement with Quranic citations provides much
interesting material, especially when they disagree with each other, there is little added
by these TQQ-focused works to the collective interpretive opinions of Muslim tafsīr.
For the most part, their conclusions agree with those found in other works, albeit with
Quranic citations provided as backing for one or more of the opinions on any particular
309This is not to devalue works which were excluded because they did not extend to al-Anʿām, such as
the commentaries on fourteen short sūras by Bint al-Shāṭiʾ.
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verse. If novelty is desirable in its own right, then more is to be found among the
Quranists, but there is very little depth to their analysis because they proceed from the
assumption that the Qurʾān is clear. There is certainly scope for a more detailed
comparison between the TQQ commentaries and those incorporating a broader range
of approaches and opinions.310 Also deserving of further exploration is the
chronological aspect in citations, as well as considering any pattern in linkage between
sūras (e.g. the two Prophetic citations of Luqmān to explain verses in al-Anʿām).
310This can include such encyclopaedic works as Rūḥ al-Maʿānī by Ālūsī, and indeed the exegesis of
Ṭabarī himself, as it is not defined as Qurʾān-primary (similarly Ibn Kathīr). This further study can
identify cases where TQQ conclusions are overruled by other considerations, such as ḥadīth. It can also
identify the kind of questions addressed in the broader tafsīr tradition which are missed out in a work
which focuses exclusively upon one method.
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Chapter 3
Theories and Principles in TQQ
3.0 – Introduction
The purpose of this chapter is to explore the assumptions implicit in the texts
already examined, and to discuss how these underlying principles are corroborated and
problematised by theories in Muslim scholarship and broader academia. As in the
overview of Chapter 1, my primary focus is upon the uṣūl genre, broadly defined, both
classical and contemporary. However, other works will be drawn upon according to
relevance.
I have divided the topics into four “principles”, under which I consider relevant
theories – this means more developed concepts as well as assumptions which have
been examined to a lesser degree. The general structure of the discussion is as follows:
I begin by summarising the principle, together with any explicit expressions of it in
the literature. I then outline the various theories relevant to the principle, focusing on
how each impacts upon the viability and/or methodology of TQQ. If there are
significant debates over any theory, I present the main points on either side and draw
conclusions about the impact of this debate upon TQQ.
The four principles pertain in various ways to the nature of the Qurʾān as a
corpus; to the text’s history and provenance; and to the role of the interpreter. An
exegete or scholar who intends to apply intraquranic methods of interpretation must
interact in some way with these principles, either from a position of doctrine or from
practical necessity. There is no sense in explaining some verses in the light of others
unless there is an actual connection between them, and unless one assumes a level of
consistency in their intent and message. Indeed, the very discipline of tafsīr assumes
that there are processes by which meaning can be determined, and that the truth of the
exegete’s conclusions derives from the authority inherent in his chosen sources and
methods. These are the issues on which I elaborate in this chapter.
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words attributed to Muḥammad. In arguing for this assumption, Hamza appeals to the
“peculiarity of style” and “unusual narrative form” which are displayed consistently
in the Qurʾān, compared to contemporaneous materials. 3 By “neither extraneous or
absent”, I mean that there neither are there any non-Quranic passages between its
covers, nor is there anything outside those covers which ought to be part of any
intraquranic analysis.
It is correct to say that it is one (wāḥid) in the aforementioned sense, namely that the
understanding of each part is dependent on other parts in one way or another, so
various parts clarify (tabyīn) each other. This is to the extent that much of it cannot be
understood fully and properly without recourse to the explanation (tafsīr) of another
passage or sūra… Something which has this feature can certainly [be described as] a
single speech (kalām wāḥid), so the Qurʾān is a single speech in this sense.6
This discussion follows the author’s detailed argument for the internal cohesion of
individual sūras, in which he states:
Sūrat al-Baqara, for example, is a single speech in terms of its structure (naẓm). It
contains various types of discourse scattered throughout: some act as a preface or
introduction to a main point; others as an emphasis or completion; others as the [main
3 Hamza, ‘Tafsīr and Unlocking the Historical Qur’an’ in Bauer (ed.), p. 25.
4 Ibn Hishām, Mughnī l-Labīb, p. 207.
5 Al-Muwāfaqāt, 3/420. Wael Hallaq argues that, in this respect, Shāṭibī “came closer to the doctrine of
the exegetes than to that of fellow legal scholars” (‘The Primacy of the Qurʾān in Shāṭibī’s Legal Theory,’
in Hallaq and Little (eds.), Islamic Studies, pp. 71, 75–76).
6 Al-Muwāfaqāt, 3/420.
126
point] intended by the revelation, namely to establish the various categories of rulings;
still others as a conclusion which refer to what preceded in order to emphasise, etc.7
However, Shāṭibī goes on to state that it is “more evident” to say that these sūras do
not, together, constitute one complete discourse, in that they have been separated by
the basmala formula (“In the name of God…”).8 The more compelling argument he
advances is that “most verses” were revealed in response to situations and contexts
(asbāb) such that “their independent revelation shows that they can be understood in
isolation [from each other]”.9 A response to this could be that the previously revealed
texts formed part of the very context which made it possible for the new locutions to
be understood (intertextually) before becoming part of a corpus (then studied
intratextually). We return to this issue shortly.
The reference above to the doctrine of unity of divine speech leads us to discuss
another doctrine which has implications for the Principle of Unity, namely the
primordial inscription of the Qurʾān in the heavenly tablet known as al-lawḥ al-
maḥfūẓ, umm al-kitāb or al-kitāb al-maknūn.10 It is held that the piecemeal revelations
to Muḥammad were from a complete and unified version, and that the eventual
compilation of the written text upon earth is, in some sense, a reconstruction of that
prior unity. The traditions pertaining to this can be found in works of exegesis under
the verses which indicate that the Qurʾān was “sent down” at one specific time,
whether the month of Ramaḍān (Q 2:185), or on a “blessed night” (Q 44:3) generally
identified with the Night of Glory (laylat al-qadr, Q 97:1). How is it said to be revealed
at this specific time, when it is known that its proclamation and compilation spanned
two decades? The answer is presented in the form of successive revelations: first from
the Tablet to the “lowest heaven” as a single unit (at both stages), and then successively
from the lowest heaven to the Prophet’s heart as appropriate to the needs of its first
hearers.
7 Al-Muwāfaqāt, 3/415.
8Al-Muwāfaqāt, 3/420. The editor and commentator, ʿAbd-Allāh Drāz, critiques the author’s words
here, pointing out that the same types of textual relation which exist within individual sūras (which
Shāṭibī already acknowledged constitute units in their own right) can be observed across those sūra
boundaries.
9 Al-Muwāfaqāt, 3/420.
10Translations for these include, respectively: the Preserved Tablet, the Source of the Book, and the
Concealed Writ. See Q 85:22, 13:39/43:4 and 56:78 with commentaries.
127
- Ḥākim, Bayhaqī and others narrate via Manṣūr, from Saʿīd b. Jubayr, that Ibn ʿAbbās
said: “The Qurʾān was sent down on the Night of Glory as one unit (jumlatan
wāḥidatan) to the heaven of this world (samāʾ al-dunyā), and it was [as though among]
the positions of the stars (bi-mawāqiʿ al-nujūm).12 [Then] God would send it down
upon His Messenger piece by piece.”
- Ḥākim and Bayhaqī also narrate, along with Nasāʾī, via Dāwūd b. Abī Hind, from
ʿIkrima, that Ibn ʿAbbas said: “The Qurʾān was sent down as one unit to the nearest
heaven (al-samāʾ al-dunyā) on the Night of Glory, then it was sent down thereafter
over twenty years.” Then he recited: “They cannot put any argument to you without
Our bringing you the truth and the best explanation” (Q 25:33) and “It is a recitation
that We have revealed in parts, so that you can recite it to people at intervals; We have
sent it down little by little” (Q 17:106).
Our interest in these traditions is primarily that they establish the concept of unity of
the Qurʾān, such that it could be sent down as “one unit” before being revealed
piecemeal in accordance with earthly contexts and concerns. Despite the divergence
of opinions concerning the precise meaning of these and similar narrations, which
Suyūṭī presents and discusses, this basic point appears to be uncontroversial in
classical works.13
The quotation above refers to Quranic verses pertinent to the unified nature of
the Qurʾān versus its piecemeal revelation. The first quotation is Q 25:33 (in the second
narration), but in fact an expression from the preceding verse is found in the first
narration, namely “jumlatan wāḥidatan”; the verse implicitly accepts the unbelievers’
contention that the Qurʾān is not being sent in that manner, whereas the narration from
Ibn ʿAbbās (who is presumed to speak on prophetic authority) has it that the Qurʾān
was indeed sent in that manner: but in a stage prior to its gradual revelation to the
Prophet. The verses together read: “The disbelievers also say, ‘Why was the Quran not
11 In Chapter 16, “Modality of its Sending Down” (Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 1/268 ff.); cf. the grossly inaccurate
translations by Michael Schub in The Perfect Guide Vol. 1 (p. 91 ff.). See also: Sakhāwī, Jamāl al-Qurrāʾ, p.
152 ff.; Abū Shāma, Al-Murshid al-Wajīz, p. 31 ff.; and Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 132 ff.
12 This expression is found in Q 56:75, which some commentators interpret in relation to the Qurʾān’s
revelation dispersed in time, as the stars are dispersed in space. Abū Shāma al-Maqdisī (d. 665/1268),
one of Suyūṭī’s sources for this discussion, explains that nujūm refers to instalments, as the term is used
in transactions. The mawāqiʿ (“falling times”) refer to the occasions of revelation (Al-Murshid al-Wajīz, p.
38).
13 However, see ʿAbbās, Itqān al-Burhān, 1/100 ff. for a critical discussion of multiple revelations.
128
sent down to him all at once?’ We sent it in this way to strengthen your heart [Prophet];
We gave it to you in gradual revelation. They cannot put any argument (mathal) to you
without Our bringing you the truth and the best explanation (tafsīr)” (Q 25:32-33). It
should be noted that there is no mention or negation here of a prior heavenly
transference, but instead the wisdom of its gradual revelation is explained with
reference to two recipients: the Prophet and the people. The other verse cited in the
narration, 17:106, focuses upon the latter.
Other significant verses in this connection use the term tafṣīl, which, according
to some exegetes, describes the process of fragmentation of a pre-established Book.14
Māturīdī quotes the following explanation of Q 11:1, which contrasts a prior iḥkām
(perfection)15 with a subsequent tafṣīl of its verses:
Fuṣṣilat, meaning the verses came separately in the revelatory process, i.e. piece by
piece according to events and circumstances, not as one totality. Had it been so, people
would have needed to know the occasion and context of each verse, and [to
distinguish] specific import [from] the universal. The revelation in response to events
and circumstances allowed them to know all of this without the need for explanation.16
We shall return to these latter comments when discussing the challenge posed to the
Principle of Unity by the contextual aspect of revelation described as asbāb al-nuzūl.
The relevant consideration here is the contrast between two stages and the affirmation
of the essential unity of the scripture’s verses and parts.
The discussion so far has revolved around some key terms and theological
concepts. The essential oneness of divine speech is taken as a basis for the primordial
unity of the Qurʾān before its revelation. If integrity of the compilation process is
assumed, such that the scripture was reconstituted as revelation intended, then it
follows that its verses and chapters relate to each other as parts of a whole. For scholars
approaching the Qurʾān uncommitted to such doctrines, the matter of its compilation
is essentially a historical question; however, clues within the text can form part of the
14 See Saleh, ‘A Piecemeal Qurʾān,’ p. 48; and Sinai, ‘Qurʾānic self-referentiality as a strategy of self-
authorization’ in Wild (ed.), Self-Referentiality in the Qurʾān, p. 120. Austin Droge (The Qur’ān: A New
Annotated Translation, p. 80) notes that tafṣīl of God’s verses, in this and previous scriptures, is a thread
through Sūrat al-Anʿām (verses 55, 97-98, 114, 119, 126, 154).
15 Cf. the use of this term in opposition to tashābuh (discussed in Section 3.3.1 below).
16 Taʾwīlāt al-Qurʾān, 7/125.
129
argument for the integrity of its compilation and preservation.17 In a similar way,
internal, literary evidence can be employed to support (or critique) the assumption that
there is cohesion and unity between various parts of the Qurʾān. This is the approach
we shall take in the next section with reference to a range of scholars and literary
theories.
The most correct method is for the Qurʾān to be explained using the Qurʾān; what is
left unclear in one place has been explained in another, and what has been made brief
in one place has been expanded in another.18
Without any reference to the exegete, he has attributed the qualities of ijmāl
(unclearness)19 and ikhtiṣār (brevity) to parts of the text and contrasted these,
respectively, with tafsīr (clarification)20 and basṭ (expansion). Thus the appeal is to
two phenomena in tandem: texts which require clarification or expansion, and others
which provide these.21 This feature of the corpus may be considered as indicative of
17 See Sadeghi, ‘The Chronology of the Qurʾān,’ p. 288, where the author concludes that his study
“reveals the stylistic continuity and distinctiveness of the text as a whole” and that “style backs the
hypothesis of one author”.
18 Ibn Taymiyya, Muqaddima, p. 93.
19 As explained in Chapter 1, I have opted to describe these as “unclear” to reflect the breadth of
examples provided in the sources. Ḥanafī scholars use the term mujmal for a species of mubham, namely
a text whose meaning is unclear in the absence of clarification from the author (Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ,
1/230); the other schools use the term more broadly to encompass any text whose denotation is unclear
(ibid, 1/271). See 4.1 below.
20 Most likely, Ibn Taymiyya is using this term interchangeably with bayān/tabyīn. The mubayyan text is
that which has been clarified in one way or another (Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ, 1/27–44). The mufassar in the
terminology of the Ḥanafīs is a text which accepts no modification or reinterpretation (except for
abrogation) due to its meaning being fixed either by its immediate context or a separate text (ibid,
1/140–142). If (for argument’s sake) Ibn Taymiyya intended this technical meaning, it would imply that
the explanation derived through TQQ is authoritative and final.
21Similar can be said of an earlier discussion by Ibn Fāris (d. 395/1004) of the phenomenon of iqtiṣāṣ
(which he relates to the concept of naẓm of the Qurʾān), which means to “follow up” an idea or term
expressed in one verse with allusions to that concept in other verses. This implies a chronology between
the usages. See Al-Ṣāḥibī fī Fiqh al-Lugha (p. 181 ff.) – this was later cited by Zarkashī (Al-Burhān, p. 635)
130
an intentional relationship between the two categories, i.e. that the existence of detail
elsewhere made it unproblematic for certain verses to be expressed summarily – and
this is the very Principle of Unity we are describing. When this is assumed, it follows
that expansion upon unclear passages should be sought within the broader corpus.
The existence of mujmal texts in the Qurʾān was documented by Zarkashī in
Al-Burhān (within Chapter 41, concerning Tafsīr and Taʾwīl), then in a distinct chapter
of Al-Itqān (46) by Suyūṭī. The latter mentions that the existence of unclear texts was
disputed by Dāwūd, the leader of the literalist Ẓāhirites.22 He further alludes to a debate
over the possibility of such texts remaining without clarification: Suyūṭī states that
“the most correct [opinion] is that [texts] upon which action is predicated may not
remain [unclear]; this does not apply to other [types of text, e.g. narratives].”23 As for
the clarification (tafsīr or tabyīn) of these texts, such can be found in the same verse,
in its surrounding passage, in unconnected verses elsewhere in the Qurʾān, or in the
Sunna.24 The causes of ijmāl and types of bayān were discussed in detail by Zarkashī
and expanded further by Shinqīṭī with reference to his own TQQ exegesis. 25
The inference I am making from all these discussions is a sense in which the
Qurʾān by its very nature seems to demand intratextual study.26 The existence of
unclear texts leads the exegete to seek clarification; knowing about potential
clarifications within the Quranic corpus would surely invite him to give them priority
over other sources of clarification, even if he did not seek after these intratexts
deliberately. In turn, this feature of the text would build his conviction that these
passages were intended to be read together for holistic understanding. Seeing the
corpus in this way has led numerous authorities to state that “the Qurʾān explains itself
(yufassiru baʿḍuhū baʿḍan)”, as described in Chapter 1. I consider this statement –
and Suyūṭī (Al-Itqān, 5/1747); see Abdel Haleem, Understanding the Qur’an, p. 164. However, the role of
chronology is not usually addressed in these discussions. Ibn al-Wazīr (d. 840/1436), for example,
defines TQQ as: “When something is mentioned repeatedly in the Book, and one passage is clearer and
more detailed than another” (Īthār al-Ḥaqq, 1/248–250).
22 Al-Itqān, 4/1426.
23 Al-Itqān, 4/1426.
24 Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 348 ff.
25 Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān, pp. 7–15; I summarised this in Chapter 1. See more on Zarkashī in 3.4.1 below.
26Cf. the concept of “neediness” used to support use of external sources to explain the Qurʾān, especially
the Sunna (below in 3.4.3).
131
which seems to give agency to the text in place of the interpreter – to be, in reality, a
statement about the cohesive nature of the Qurʾān as a whole, and the dependency of
some parts upon others.
If this perspective on the Qurʾān as a corpus may be derived from the simple
fact of mujmal and bayān scattered throughout, it follows even more clearly from three
realities which I shall outline presently. The first is the self-referential nature of the
text, and, consequently, its self-descriptions in terms of unity and diversity. The second
is the existence of explicit cross-references between passages of the scripture. The
third, as some scholars argue, is the structural unity within each sūra and how these
are arranged in a way which suggests a predetermined structure of the Qurʾān as a
whole.
(b) Self-Referentiality
The phenomenon of self-referentiality (or metatextuality) has been the subject
of numerous recent studies27: the central idea is that the Qurʾān displays a kind of “self-
awareness” by referring to itself in various terms, and to some of its constituent parts:
the sūra and āya. These phenomena may be interpreted in various ways, including to
support the principle under discussion here, in that the Qurʾān presents an account of
itself as a single “book”. Aspects of this have been noted as unique to the Qurʾān, as
argued here by Stefan Wild:
But the Qurʼān is unique in that much of the canonical text itself is already exegesis,
much more so than other comparable holy texts. In the case of the Qurʼān, self-
referentiality means more than the concentration of much of the text on its own
textuality. Its self-referentiality predates the canonization of the text. In the Qurʼān,
exegesis itself becomes scripture.28
27 A fore-runner in this respect is Daniel Madigan’s The Qurʾān’s Self-Image. He contributed also to Wild
(ed.), Self-Referentiality in the Qurʾān.
‘The Self-Referentiality of the Qurʼān: Sura 3:7 as an Exegetical Challenge,’ in McAuliffe et al (eds.),
28
of the Qurʾān, three in Sūrat al-Anʿām.29 The Farāhian exegete Amīn Aḥsan Iṣlāḥī
argues in his introduction that the explicit mention by the Qurʾān of this term – which
means “turning” or “modification” – implies that its repetitions and variations are
neither redundant nor haphazard.30 In the same context, Iṣlāḥī cites Q 39:23 to
highlight the Qurʾān’s self-description as both mutashābih and mathānī: the former
term indicates the internal consistency and overall resemblance of parts of the Qurʾān
to each other.31
See Dakake in The Study Quran, p. 356 and Wild, ‘An Arabic Recitation: The Meta-Linguistics of
29
the original ruling, whereas Muqātil argued that there is abrogation (i.e. firm
prohibition after mere discouragement). Brief mention was made also of 16:118 – “We
forbade to the Jews what We have recounted to you earlier…”33 – which exegetes link
back to 6:146, which specifies “every animal with claws, and the fat of cattle and sheep
(etc.)”.
For reference made in al-Anʿām to an external passage, I outlined the opinions
concerning 6:119, “He has already fully explained what He has forbidden you”. This
is often linked to 5:3, but that is generally agreed to be a late revelation. Some linked
it to 16:115, given that al-Naḥl is classed as Meccan and therefore could be argued to
precede al-Anʿām. However, this complicates the preceding claim that 16:118 refers
back to 6:146, a point which Shinqīṭī actually uses as evidence for al-Naḥl being a later
revelation.34 As I mentioned in Chapter 2, the matter could be resolved by positing
staggered revelation of these verses, rather than one sūra being revealed prior to the
other in full. Assuming it is a mutual cross-reference, this raises an interesting question
concerning the relationship between the two sūras.
ends: it may tell the researcher something about the history of its compilation, and may
be used as evidence for the integrity of the processes of canonisation and preservation.
The latter is not exclusive to apologetic contexts, but a stronger claim is that the very
fact of a large corpus such as the Qurʾān having a coherent final structure, despite
having been assembled from piecemeal revelations, is indicative of a miraculous
source or divine hand in its composition.37 The other key purpose in structural analysis
is to inform interpretation, and this is the central aim of Farāhī, who argues for Quranic
structure in Dalāʾil al-Niẓām. In the present context, my purpose in raising this issue
is a combination of the two, namely: that evidence for intentional structure in the
Qurʾān lends support to the Principle of Unity which maintains that it is a single
corpus; this, in turn, has implications for interpreting any part of the text.
According to Farāhī, an understanding of the organisation of the Qurʾān and
its ideas must be derived from the text itself. Unfortunately, his writings on this topic
were published in an incomplete form; however, the following excerpt illustrates his
conception of how organisational coherence and unity is deduced from the Qurʾān:
The Quranic text itself demonstrates in the majority of sūras a concern for certain
features not found in any discourse which is assembled without care for organisation.
One such feature is the [rhyming] verse-endings (fawāṣil) found in numerous long
sūras. Another is repeated verses [motifs] as in al-Mursalāt (Q 77) and al-Raḥmān (Q
55). Another is for verses to be connected by means of a style of wording (uslūb ẓāhir),
such as the verse 9:67, “The male and female hypocrites (al-munāfiqūn wa-l-
munāfiqāt) belong to each other (baʿḍuhum min baʿḍ)” being followed by numerous
verses connected by such wording. Likewise, meanings may connect to each other in
an obvious fashion, as you see in stories [within a single sūra].38
These considerations are all linguistic and formal; however, Farāhī states that it is the
semantic keys which demonstrate niẓām more compellingly, yet identifying the latter
requires deeper reflection.39 A core aspect of his theory concerns the unity of the sūra;
he considers each sūra to revolve around an axis known as the ʿamūd (literally: pillar).
Despite acknowledging that deducing the unifying ʿamūd is extremely difficult
37 This motivation is implicit in the structural presentations in Khan and Randhawa, Divine Speech.
38 Marginal note appended to Rasāʾil al-Imām al-Farāhī, p. 39.
39 Rasāʾil, p. 39.
135
(particularly for the longer and more complex sūras), Farāhī claims that its discovery
is “like the emergence of dawn by which the entire sūra is illuminated”.40
The Farāhian school further maintains that the sūras are arranged in groups
(and pairs, according to Iṣlāḥī), amounting to a meaningful structure for the entire
Qurʾān.41 Rather than discussing them in detail here, my purpose is simply to highlight
that such claims, particularly at their most intuitive and well-evidenced, provide
justification for treating the Qurʾān as a unified whole.
40 Dalāʾil al-Niẓām (in Rasāʾil, pp. 88–89). See also Mir, Coherence, p. 34.
Farāhī, Dalāʾil (in Rasāʾil, p. 103 ff.); Iṣlāḥī, Pondering, p. 38 ff., and see Mir, Coherence, pp. 34–35. Further
41
work on these ideas is found in Farrin, Structure and Qur’anic Interpretation, p. 100 ff. and Khan and
Randhawa, Divine Speech, p. 217 ff.
42 Such content is found in tafsīr works and specialised collections and overlaps with the ḥadīth corpus. A
modern work which attempts to gather and grade all such narrations is Hilālī and Naṣr, Al-Istīʿāb fī Bayān
al-Asbāb. Another work with a more limited scope but more focus on methodology is Muzaynī, Al-
Muḥarrar fī Asbāb Nuzūl al-Qurʾān. I have previously mentioned Mawsūʿat al-Tafsīr al-Maʾthūr, the most
comprehensive to date; it includes verdicts from Ṭabarī and Ibn ʿAṭiyya but would benefit from further
exegetical insights.
136
…a task which cannot be fulfilled except with flimsy [hypotheses] which ought to be
avoided in reference to any fine speech, let alone the very finest. The Qurʾān was
revealed over a period of twenty-odd years with various rulings and in a variety of
contexts (asbāb), and such cannot then be connected together.44
The point being made is that contiguous verses which were revealed separately are
bound more strongly to their respective time-contexts than to their position in the text;
there is, therefore, no significance for the interpreter in their having been placed
together subsequently. This would apply a fortiori to verses in different chapters,
separated by both time and space.
As noted previously, the doctrine of the Preserved Tablet is integral to
resolving this tension between cohesion and fragmentation. It may be visualised like a
jigsaw puzzle from which pieces are sent to a recipient in an apparently chaotic
sequence, then this recipient must place the pieces in their appropriate places until the
puzzle is reassembled in its original form. The image here requires that the recipient
(the Prophet) be instructed with these positions, and that he ensure that they are placed
correctly as they arrive: this corresponds to the doctrine of tawqīf (divine mandate).
One expression of this is in Zarkashī’s citation from Manfalūṭī, mentioned previously
in Chapter 1:
Those who said that one should not seek after the contextual connection (munāsaba)
for Quranic verses, in that they relate to unconnected events, were mistaken. The
reality of the matter is that their revelation (tanzīl) [was] in accordance with events,
but their compiled order (tartīb) is in accordance with [divine] wisdom (ḥikma). Hence
the muṣḥaf [in our hands], like the ṣuḥuf [written by scribe-angels] is in agreement
43 See Farāhī on why scholars turn away from naẓm in Dalāʾil al-Niẓām (Rasāʾil, pp. 34–38).
44 Quoted in Biqāʿī, Naẓm al-Durar, 1/6.
137
with the contents of the Concealed Writ (al-kitāb al-maknūn) [see Q 56:78]. Its sūras
and āyas are arranged by divine mandate.45
Manfalūṭī goes on to compare this situation to a scholar who is asked about various
issues and responds with Quranic verses according to their relevance; when he comes
to recite the Book for himself, he follows only the compiled order which is “as it was
sent down in one totality to bayt al-ʿizza (the noble abode)”.46 After citing this,
Zarkashī notes that the tawqīf opinion is the preponderant one (rājiḥ) in Muslim
scholarship.47
Knowledge of asbāb has long been emphasised as part of Quranic and
exegetical sciences, although classical works have also acknowledged the potential
tension between revelatory and compositional contexts, expressed in terms of ʿumūm
al-lafẓ (universality of wording) versus khuṣūṣ al-sabab (particularity of referent as
indicated by revelatory context).48 The quote from Māturīdī above sheds light on the
utility of the asbāb literature: it is an attempt to reconstruct the contextual knowledge
of the Prophet’s Companions gained through witnessing the revelation and its
engagement with specific events and questions. In this connection, scholars quote a
saying from ʿAbd-Allāh b. Masʿūd: “There is no verse in God’s Book except that I
know concerning whom it was revealed and where it was revealed.”49 In the study of
balāgha, the rhetoricians refer to the concept of maqām, the situation in which speech
is uttered, and the need for that speech to be appropriate. However, it is straightforward
to argue that, while the original situation helps to clarify the intent of the speaker (or
divine locution), the very nature of the Qurʾān’s arrangement (non-chronological)
indicates that its import is not to be limited by revelatory context. Rather, once the
verse ‘slots in’ to its pre-determined position in the sūra, it may be understood on its
own terms, and in light of its surrounding verses.50
45 Al-Burhān, p. 42.
Al-Burhān, p. 43. This term corresponds to the “lowest heaven” in earlier quotations; see Zurqānī,
46
Sabab-Scepticism (Synchronism)
Having noted the nuances in exegetical scholarship generally, it is pertinent to
describe the tendency among some exegetes to limit the use of asbāb explicitly. Some
clear examples are found within Indian scholarship, especially in the TQQ works
already explored in Chapter 2.51 Critical ideas concerning asbāb in the hermeneutical
treatise of Shāh Walī-Allāh Dihlawī were quoted at length by Amritsarī at the
beginning of his exegesis.52 Here I summarise those points from two separate sections
of Al-Fawz al-Kabīr fī Uṣūl al-Tafsīr. Some of Dihlawī’s remarks concern the
compilations in which asbāb material is to be found: on the one hand, dedicated
collections by the likes of Ibn Isḥāq, Wāqidī and Kalbī contain a majority of unreliable
narrations according to the standards of ḥadīth scholarship53; on the other hand, the
broader ḥadīth collections mix asbāb with extraneous material of little relevance to the
exegete.54
Even when the relevant reports are identified and authenticated, Dihlawī
prescribes caution in understanding the import of certain recurrent expressions. For
example, the Companions may say that a verse “was revealed concerning (nazalat fī)
such-and-such”, yet this may not describe the actual context of revelation. Rather, it
may mean that the verse – or the core ruling it expresses – applies to that situation
(which may even have occurred later).55 Indeed, a narrator might describe an incident
to illustrate the kind of people concerning whom the verse was revealed, without
intending to claim that the verse came at that specific time and in direct reference to
those described.56 The Prophet may have recited that verse at a later occasion due to
its relevance (even partial), and this may be described with the expression “…and so
God revealed (fa-anzala) this verse”. This is because these words can conceivably
51 My choice of al-Anʿām for the case study was not ideal for a comparison of how asbāb reports were
treated by the various exegetes, because this sūra is often considered to have been revealed completely,
or mostly, as one unit. Nevertheless, Hilālī and Naṣr list reports in relation to twenty-one verses or
passages of al-Anʿām (Al-Istīʿāb, 2/130–166). The majority are graded as “weak” or “fabricated”.
Muzaynī in Al-Muḥarrar (pp. 523–537) only discusses four cases drawn from the major ḥadīth collections.
52 Amritsarī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān, p. 39.
53 Al-Fawz al-Kabīr, p. 60.
54 Al-Fawz, p. 55.
55 Al-Fawz, p. 55. See also Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 1/208.
56 Al-Fawz, p. 56.
139
refer to the Prophet’s own divinely guided reasoning, by which he applied an earlier
verse to a new situation; or it may be that the verse was sent down more than once.57
Another type of report describes chronology, such as Ibn ʿUmar saying that Q 9:34
was revealed “before zakāt”. In cases like this, Dihlawī maintains that it refers to
conceptual rather than literal priority – hence 9:34 is conceptually prior to the detailed
discourses on zakāt despite being a late revelation.58
Closer to the purpose of this discussion is a further set of problems for taking
asbāb accounts at face value presented by the nature of Quranic discourse, specifically
the contextual flow of verses in their compositional order. Sometimes one verse causes
a question to arise in the listener’s mind, so the next verse addresses that question. The
early authorities would sometimes express that question as though it were the sabab,
even though it may not have been given voice at the time. Indeed, it is often
implausible that a Quranic passage was revealed in separate portions as the asbāb
reports imply.59 If the preceding point seems to attribute such statements to the ijtihād
and inference of the early authorities, a further claim by Dihlawī goes even further: he
suggests that they would sometimes notice an obscure allusion in the text and describe
a context that could conceivably explain it – then later scholars mistook those for actual
claims of asbāb.60
For Dihlawī, the asbāb reports, despite these inherent complications, are
indispensable for the mufassir in several situations. When there is extensive reference
to events at the time of the Prophet, such as battles, then the story must be sourced and
summarised as part of the tafsīr.61 Furthermore, any account which modifies the
apparent sense of the verse must be taken into account, such as particularisation
(takhṣīṣ).62 Whenever a verse presents a puzzle which requires contextualisation, the
sabab literature can provide the appropriate solution (tawjīh). An example is the reason
57Al-Fawz, p. 56. See Faḍl ʿAbbās’ critique of the claim that certain verses were revealed more than
once (Itqān al-Burhān, 1/132 ff.).
58Al-Fawz, p. 58. This may mean that it refers to the broader vice of hoarding wealth despite pressing
communal needs, i.e. its revelation and message do not follow from the specific obligation of zakāt.
59 Al-Fawz, p. 57.
60 Al-Fawz, p. 98.
61 Al-Fawz, p. 97.
62 Al-Fawz, p. 56.
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for the expression lā junāḥ (“There is no blame”) being applied to the obligatory
pilgrimage rite of walking between the Ṣafā and Marwa hills: this is explained by the
report which states that some Arabs used to avoid these hills (due to the presence of
idols).63
These detailed remarks from a scholar who preceded Farāhī can aid in
understanding the latter’s motivation in minimising the incorporation of asbāb reports
in his niẓām/naẓm approach to interpretation. In his view, the context of revelation
should be deduced from the text itself, “just as an expert doctor identifies the ailment
a patient is suffering from by simply analysing the medicines mentioned in the
prescription by another doctor”.64 He illustrates his argument with appeal to the
essential nature of eloquent and effective discourse:
The speech of God, glory be to Him, is perfectly free (munazzah) from contradiction
(ikhtilāf), as God has said: “If it had been from other than God, they would have found
therein much ikhtilāf” (Q 4:82). However, the beginner may find that which gives the
impression of contradiction while not, in reality, being so. Hence this requires
resolution, just as there are works in the field of mukhtalif al-ḥadīth clarifying how to
reconcile between [conflicting texts].68
This comparison with the genre in ḥadīth studies is interesting, as it implies that the
problem of contradiction gained more scholarly attention there; Zarkashī alludes to a
67This could be called the Strong Consistency Principle. There is an even stronger notion of consistency
that I describe at various points as “reductionism”: to hold that the Qurʾān is consistent in its word
usages etc. and does not deviate from these norms. This assumption does not follow from belief in divine
origin, as one could equally hold that eloquent variety is a feature of divine speech.
68 Al-Burhān, p. 282.
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work on the Qurʾān by the Baṣran linguist Quṭrub (d. 206/821), and there does exist a
genre known as muskhil al-Qurʾān or mutashābih al-Qurʾān69, and other works
focused on resolving contradictions.70 It is clear from the titles or introductions of these
various works that they were often motivated by questions, critiques and allegations
directed at the Qurʾān. Ibn Qutayba (d. 276/889) opens his Taʾwīl Mushkil al-Qurʾān
by citing verses (Q 18:1, 41:42) which negate any “crookedness (ʿiwaj)” or “falsehood
(bāṭil)” from God’s book.71
The concept of ikhtilāf, as negated in Q 4:82 cited by Zarkashī above, has been
explained by the exegetes in various ways; in the context of negation, it may be argued
that all of these are intended. The first is internal contradiction (tanāquḍ), which is
most relevant here; this explanation is attributed to Ibn ʿAbbās.72
A second is external contradiction, i.e. for the statements of the Qurʾān – including
those which expose the inner motivations of the unbelievers – to be false.73 It is
straightforward to see why both should be ruled out. There is less agreement on the
third view, as advanced by Zamakhsharī: that ikhtilāf refers to fluctuating levels of
eloquence, such that only parts can be recognised as miraculous.74 Some commentators
distinguish between positive and negative ikhtilāf: the former is mere variation, such
as between readings (qirāʾāt), rulings and subject matter, or in lengths of āyas and
sūras.75
A quotation from Abū Isḥāq al-Isfarāyīnī (d. 418/1027) in Al-Burhān
summarises the strategies to be employed in cases of conflict (taʿāruḍ) between verses:
69This term is used in two different ways in works relevant to resolving contradictions. One is the
category of unclear verses delineated in Q 3:7 (see below), and therefore an alternative term for mushkil.
The other usage (mutashābih lafẓī) is for passages which closely resemble each other; the differences
between them may also give rise to claims of contradiction – see 4.3.1 below.
70 See 4.3.2 below.
71 Ibn Qutayba, Taʾwīl Mushkil al-Qurʾān, p. 67.
72 See Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 6/164–165.
See Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 5/138. The point about unbelievers pertains to the context of
73
Q 4:82.
74 Zamakhsharī, Al-Kashshāf, p. 249. Ālūsī defends this reading against criticism (without naming the
critic); the translation according to his grammatical explanation would be: “They would have found
much of it incongruent” (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 6/165).
75 Al-Itqān, 4/1485.
143
When verses conflict and it is not possible to reconcile them76, then resort is made to
chronology (tārīkh) and the earlier one is abandoned in favour of the later, which
constitutes abrogation (naskh). If chronology is unknown, yet there is consensus upon
acting on one of the two verses, then this consensus demonstrates that the one so acted
upon has abrogated [the other]. There is no example in the Qurʾān of two conflicting
verses to which neither of these descriptions applies.77
This account begins with the attempt to reconcile and harmonise the conflicting texts,
which may take various forms, to be outlined in Chapter 4. When that is not possible,
then preponderance is given to one over another (tarjīḥ), in the form of abrogation. A
strategy not mentioned here is to relegate one of the verses (or one conflicting reading,
qirāʾa of a verse) to the category of mutashābih, such that preference is given to the
one deemed to be clearer in import (hence muḥkam, univocal). The relevance of that
dichotomy (discussed under the next principle, that of Interpretability) to strategies of
resolving contradiction is further seen in this citation from Ḥamīd al-Dīn Farāhī, who
included non-contradiction among the key principles of his TQQ exegesis:
The Qurʾān, being divine speech, does not contradict itself, so it should be interpreted
in that light. The Qurʾān is explicit that its equivocal (mutashābih) texts should be
referred to the univocal (muḥkam), so whatever is established with certainty is made
a definitive basis.78
76In Al-Burhān this is “al-tartīb”; based on another occurrence of this word on the next page (p. 284), I
take this to denote “comparison”. In Al-Itqān (4/1484), it is “al-tartīb wa-l-jamʿ”: comparison and
reconciliation. Another manuscript of Al-Burhān (see p. 283 note 5) has al-tawfīq in place of al-tartīb.
77 Al-Burhān, pp. 283–284.
78 In Rasāʾil al-Imām al-Farāhī, p. 225.
144
such is made explicit in the conditions stipulated by uṣūl scholars for claiming
instances of abrogation. The following axiom in a modern work of qawāʿid al-tafsīr
illustrates that contradiction is a prerequisite, often supported by other evidences:
Abrogation must be established through evidence, whether in the verse itself or via an
explicit statement of the Messenger (peace be upon him) or his Companions; or
consensus of the Muslims; or based on the existence of genuine contradiction (taʿāruḍ
ḥaqīqī) along with knowledge of the chronology. This [contradiction] is
simultaneously an evidence for abrogation, and a necessary condition for declaring
it.79
Scholars have categorised naskh into various types, including two forms in which a
verse is no longer included in the Qurʾān and no longer recited.80 The type which is
relevant to our discussion is “abrogation of the ruling, not the recited words” (naskh
al-ḥukm dūna l-tilāwa), as this has implications for the words which remain “between
the two covers”, or, in other words, considered unanimously to be part of the Qurʾān.
This form of naskh implies that certain verses have been stripped of their operability,
even though a believer still gains reward for reciting them in prayer. We are also
concerned only with intraquranic abrogation, rather than abrogation of – or by – the
Sunna.
The essential point here is that this theory of abrogation entails that there are,
in fact, contradictory verses in the Qurʾān. This could be treated as merely an
exception, or the principle modified to state that “No two muḥkam81 verses in the
Qurʾān may contradict”. One problem for this is the lack of agreement over precisely
which verses are abrogated, as demonstrated and discussed below. For an exegete
engaging in tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, it is necessary to delineate which verses are
to be taken into account: should an abrogated verse be overlooked completely? It may
be said that naskh is a form of TQQ, in that one verse “explains” that another is no
79 Sabt, Qawāʿid al-Tafsīr, 2/292. See also Zurqānī, Manāhil, 2/520, 542–544.
80These are known as naskh al-tilāwa, and it may be combined with naskh al-ḥukm such that the words
and rulings are both effaced; or the ruling may be maintained despite the removal of the words from the
Quranic corpus, as is frequently claimed for the “verse of stoning married adulterers” – see Zurqānī,
Manāhil, 2/547.
81This is used as the antonym of mansūkh, abrogated. The abrogating verse itself is called nāsikh. The
other main usage of the word muḥkam is discussed under the next principle.
145
longer active in a legal sense82; in other words, it modifies its ruling to the utmost
extent, by cancelling it. Any further explanation of the abrogated verse is for historical
or literary interest, with no juristic force. The designation of the “later” verse as
“abrogating (nāsikh)” is to point to it as the operable ruling.
Early authorities used this term more liberally to refer to various types of
modification, especially takhṣīṣ (particularisation), which means to limit the scope of
a ruling which had a universal import. In this regard, Shāṭibī says in his Muwāfaqāt:
It is apparent from the statements of the early authorities (mutaqaddimūn) that the
term naskh was employed in a broader meaning than that used by the jurisprudents
(uṣūliyyūn). They used this term to describe qualifying the unqualified (taqyīd al-
muṭlaq); particularising the universal (takhṣīṣ al-ʿumūm) via a connected or
unconnected evidence; and clarifying the vague or unclear (bayān al-mubham wa-l-
mujmal), just as they would use it for the cancellation of a legal ruling by a subsequent
evidence [i.e. the later technical usage]. This is because all the above shares one
meaning [i.e. modification of the original ruling].83
This insight makes claims of naskh extremely significant for TQQ – even for naskh-
sceptics – as they may be seen more generally as statements connecting two verses and
highlighting that one is essential to understanding the other. Another way in which
these claims are significant is the implication of taʿāruḍ (contradiction) they contain:
this implication can lead the exegete to ponder more deeply on the verses, seeking to
resolve the apparent conflict, leading to new interpretations of one or both verses.84
82 The expression used is “bayān muddat al-ḥukm” (Al-Burhān, p. 275), i.e. “clarification of the duration of
the ruling”, which, in turn, is categorised under bayān al-tabdīl, “modifying clarification” (Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-
Nuṣūṣ, 1/35). It may also be true in some cases that the abrogating verse is not fully understood without
reference to the ruling which it replaces. As such, we may describe these two directions as tafsīr al-mansūkh
bi-l-nāsikh (explaining earlier by later) and tafsīr al-nāsikh bi-l-mansūkh, which is to clarify the background
to the abrogating verse.
83 Al-Muwāfaqāt, 3/108. The author goes on to explain that, since the universality or unqualified
meaning (etc.) of the earlier text has been cancelled, this is a situation resembling naskh in its later usage.
See also Ṭayyar, Al-Taḥrīr, pp. 218–219; and Suyūṭī’s explanation of what led later scholars to include
so many instances of naskh (Al-Itqān, 4/1441–1443).
84This is a way of understanding the care of early authorities in documenting and studying this field (see
Al-Burhān, p. 273). See 4.3.2 below for more on this approach within TQQ, and what I term “creative
conflict”.
146
that this has occurred (wuqūʿ). However, he notes positions of some Muslim scholars
who either rejected such naskh altogether or restricted its applicability.85 The majority
position is supported by at least two verses of the Qurʾān which contain key words for
this phenomenon; by narrations from the Companions which describe its occurrence
explicitly; and by the existence of conflicting passages for which naskh is arguably the
strongest – or only – explanation. The most famous proof-text is Q 2:106, which may
be rendered: “Whenever We subject any āya to naskh or insāʾ, We bring forth its
superior or equivalent. Do you not see that God has power over all things?”.86
These key words are the subject of debate amongst the exegetes in general. Those who
affirm abrogation in the Qurʾān take the term āya to refer to a Quranic verse; however,
Abū Muslim al-Iṣfahānī (d. 322/934) argued that it refers to earlier scriptures which
are abrogated by the Qurʾān.87 Much later, Muḥammad ʿAbduh (d. 1905) argued that
the context – including the emphasis on divine power – entails that āya refers to
miraculous proofs which were given to prophets in succession.88 These latter two
interpretations have been supported variously by modern-day deniers of abrogation in
the Qurʾān.89
85Al-Burhān, pp. 274–275. See also the end of his Chapter 34 (p. 281), where he cites an unnamed source
who emphasises that the Qurʾān is the abrogating guardian (muhaymin – see Q 5:48) over other scriptures,
as well as self-supporting (mutaʿāḍid) and preserved (Q 15:9). As such, there is only a small quantity of
internal naskh which is signposted (maʿlūm wa qalīl): he gives the example of the Verse of Najwā, which I
discuss below. The rest of what the exegetes have classed as naskh is, according to this person, either nasʾ
(which Zarkashī explains as suspension of a ruling due to circumstances) or bayān of various kinds.
86 The pairing of naskh/insākh and nasʾ/insāʾ (according to the various canonical readings) generates
numerous possibilities for the exegete and translator, not least because of the ambiguity inherent in the
words. Whereas the first is generally taken to indicate “cancellation”, the latter may describe “causing
to forget”, “leaving alone” or “postponing”. I suggest that these ambiguities are intended to increase the
force of the verse in describing God’s power and wisdom, as if to say: “We can do all these things: send
down an āya, delay it or keep it without revealing; then cancel its meaning and/or blot out its memory;
or leave it unchanged. In all these cases We continue to bring what is similar or achieves higher
objectives, either as replacement for previous āyāt or as complements to them.” The other key verses in
the abrogation debate (and arguably clearer in their import) are 16:101 (with the term tabdīl, exchange)
and 13:39 (with maḥw/ithbāt, erasure and establishment). Detailed discussions in tafsīr works are often
found under 2:106 by virtue of appearing first.
87This is one of his suggested interpretations (see Rāzī, Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, 2/260). Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī
preserved Abū Muslim’s arguments in response to naskh claims throughout the Qurʾān; he sometimes
agrees with those responses.
88 As quoted in Riḍā, Tafsīr al-Manār, 1/399–401.
89 See Qaraḍāwī, Fiqh al-Jihād, 1/285 ff. Muḥammad ʿImāra (Ḥaqāʾiq wa Shubuhāt, pp. 34–39) supports
the interpretation as “miracle” with a somewhat arbitrary appeal to the usage of āya (in the singular)
elsewhere in the Qurʾān. Ṭāhā al-ʿAlwāni (Naḥwa Mawqif Qurʾānī, p. 52) claimed, rather implausibly, that
this is the majority view of the exegetes; however, his own explanation is more concerned with
supersession of dispensations (see ibid, p. 48, in which the author repurposes a passage from Al-Taḥrīr
147
There are diverse motivations behind naskh-scepticism, which affect the types
of arguments levelled against the theory. I have already argued that a TQQ approach
to Qurʾān interpretation need not be at odds with naskh, but must take such
relationships into account. However, stronger claims of Qurʾān-sufficiency (see below
under the Principle of Authority) would appear to clash with the suggestion that any
part of the Qurʾān is unauthoritative or cancelled; hence the naskh-denial of the likes
of Aḥmad Ṣubḥī Manṣūr.90 It is interesting to note, on the other hand, that the naẓm
theorists such as Amīn Aḥsan Iṣlāḥī – despite their emphasis upon the synchronic
structure of the Qurʾān – accepted the existence of abrogated verses.91 As was seen in
Chapter 2’s discussion of the “Sword Verse” and its over-application, some
researchers come to re-evaluate naskh due to its implications for a particular issue.92
In contrast to outright rejection of naskh in the Qurʾān, there has long been a
tendency to limit the number of actual occurrences to the most clearly established. An
example of this is Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūṭī, who cautioned against taking the words of
“low-ranking exegetes” and argued that there are only nineteen genuine occurrences.93
wa-l-Tanwīr 1/655, and distorts Ibn ʿĀshūr’s explanation). The Shīʿite scholar Abū l-Qāsim al-Mūsawī
al-Khūʾī, while accepting the principle of naskh, selects thirty-six alleged cases and argues that none is a
genuine case of abrogation in the Qurʾān (The Prolegomena, p. 186 ff.), with the possible exception of
58:12, as a signposted case: see below.
He was mentioned previously under 2.7.2; Khālid al-Basyūni responded to his book Lā Nāsikh wa Lā
90
Mansūkh fī l-Qurʾān in his own book, Al-Naskh Bayna Shubuhāt al-Munkirīn wa Adillat al-Muthbitīn.
91 See Pondering Over the Qur’ān Vol. 1, pp. 329–331, for Iṣlāḥī’s minimalist stance and allusion to eight
cases of abrogation, of which one (prayers towards Jerusalem) was not a Quranic directive. His teacher
Farāhī appears to accept the phenomenon: see his Taʿlīqāt (1/43), in which he describes “closely-
following steps” within the Muḥammadan sharīʿa after a longer process of progression and elevation
through preceding dispensations. Contrast this with the stance of Israr Ahmed Khan in The Theory of
Abrogation: A Critical Evaluation; Khan is otherwise an ardent supporter of Iṣlāḥī’s methods, but here refutes
abrogation altogether (albeit as represented by Suyūṭī, not Iṣlāḥī).
92Qaraḍāwī, Fiqh al-Jihād, 1/287 ff. (and note his lighter scepticism in Kayfa Nataʿāmal maʿa l-Qurʾān, p.
326 ff.). The author lists some precedents for his scepticism, all Egyptians: ʿAbduh and Riḍā,
Muḥammad al-Khuḍarī, ʿAbd al-Wahhāb Khallāf, Muḥammad al-Ghazālī and ʿAbd al-Mutaʿāl al-
Jabrī (Fiqh al-Jihād, 1/295 note 3).
93 Al-Itqān, 4/1443-1447; the author presents a list of twenty-one from Ibn al-ʿArabī’s Al-Nāsikh wa-l-
Mansūkh, then removes 4:8 and 24:58, and adds 2:115 (abrogated by 2:149 which specifies the qibla).
This is in contrast with his earlier contribution to Tafsīr al-Jalālayn; surveying his commentary on Sūrat
al-Anʿām, I found that he described 6:159 as “abrogated by the Sword Verse” and noted that several
others were “before fighting was mandated”. The ḥāshiya (supercommentary) by Sulaymān al-ʿUjaylī
(known as al-Jamal, d. 1204/1789) points out that Suyūṭī conflates two conflicting opinions under 6:66,
in that his presented gloss “fa-ujāziyakum” would not be subject to abrogation by the command to fight
(see Al-Futūḥāt al-Ilāhiyya, 2/391).
148
Of these, Walī-Allāh Dihlawī only accepted five.94 Muṣṭafā Zayd in his modern study
also concluded that there are five abrogated verses95; only two are in common with
Dihlawī. Iṣlāḥī affirmed most of these latter five96, with the addition of two further
cases (also included by Suyūṭī).97
94Al-Fawz al-Kabīr, pp. 47-54, 102. Aside from the verse of counsel (58:12) discussed below, the four
cases he affirmed are: (a) 2:180 which mandates bequests (waṣiyya) to parents and near of kin. This was
abrogated by 4:11-12 with stipulations for inheritance, along with the ḥadīth “No bequest for an
inheritor”. (b) 2:240 which stipulates a year’s residence and maintenance for widows, abrogated by 2:234
(waiting period of four months and ten days) and 4:11-12 (inheritance of an eighth or a quarter). (c)
33:52 – the Prophet was forbidden from taking more wives, until 33:50 abrogated it. (d) 8:65-66, in
which the latter verse expresses “lightening” (takhfīf) of the former expectation that believers can defeat
an enemy that outnumbers them ten to one.
95Al-Naskh, 2/337 ff. These include: (a) Obligation of night vigil in 73:1-4 abrogated for general believers
by the end of the sūra; this depends on ḥadīth explanation. (b) Punishment of adultery in 4:15-16
abrogated by 24:2. (c) The lighter ruling on intoxicants in 4:43 replaced by prohibition, 5:90. The last
of these is not in Suyūṭī’s list of nineteen.
96 8:65 is not on his list; see Tadabbur, 3/507 for his explanation.
97These are: (a) 4:33, which mandated inheritance between Muhājirūn and Anṣār, abrogated by 8:75. (b)
2:184 which permitted those who missed a fast due to sickness or travel to choose between making up
the fast and paying the ransom (fidya) (see Pondering, 1/462), then abrogated by the following verse.
Another common opinion, which Iṣlāḥī critiques, is that the ransom was an option (instead of making
up the fast) for anyone who found fasting difficult. However, it seems to me that his reading does not
account for the preposition ʿalā, which implies obligation. His point may be modified to say that people
who missed fasts due to sickness or travel were required both to make them up and pay the ransom (if
able), until this was lightened; this would be more consistent with the co-text.
98 E.g. Qaraḍāwī in Fiqh al-Jihād, 1/298.
149
and His Messenger: God is well aware of your actions” (58:12-13, Abdel Haleem
translation).
An obvious reason for the broad agreement upon this instance is the immediate
sequence between the two statements, and the explicit wording of divine relenting
(tawba) which implies replacement of the more demanding ruling. While this makes
absolute rejection of naskh difficult on a practical level, the very existence of such
explicit cases could be used by deniers and minimisers to support their view that
abrogation should not be read into verses which do not contain such expressions as
tawba or takhfīf (lightening). When the Qurʾān itself indicates that a ruling has been
replaced, this cannot be seen as arbitrary, based on external sources, or contrary to its
structural integrity – all concerns raised against naskh generally. From a TQQ
perspective, the exegete would be in no doubt that the verses must be treated together,
whether he describes this treatment as naskh or as contextual interpretation. The
explanation of these verses, according to those who affirm the abrogation, is that a
payment was initially made obligatory for anyone seeking private counsel with the
Prophet. After a short time, perhaps only a few days or hours, this was lifted and the
believers were exhorted to abide by the basic obligation of zakāt.99 Some associated
reports – which are sound according to Sunnī standards – indicate that ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib
was the only one from the Companions to act upon the ruling before its abrogation; for
Abū l-Qāsim al-Khūʾī, this demonstrates the superiority of the first Shīʿite imām and
reveals the divine wisdom in revealing the initial ruling and its cancellation.100
An opposing view was advanced by Abū Muslim al-Iṣfahānī, who argued that
the purpose of the initial injunction was to test the hypocrites (munāfiqūn), or
specifically to distinguish between those who had entered into genuine faith from those
who remained upon their dissimulation. Because this was a temporary need, the ruling
was inherently temporary, hence not subject to naskh.101 Upon citing this, Rāzī states:
“This is a good, unproblematic statement; however, the majority position is that it was
abrogated by [the second verse]. Some said that it was abrogated by the obligation of
zakāt.”102 It is important to note that Abū Muslim’s strategy here is based on a technical
distinction between naskh and intihāʾ al-ghāya; the latter pertains to situations in
which the original ruling did not have a permanent character.103 Where there is such
an expression as ḥattā (“until”) then the verse containing this caveat retains its proper
sense after the subsequent ruling is revealed. However, there is nothing in the wording
of 58:12 to fit this description, so the distinction between this case and genuine naskh
– in which the temporary nature of the ruling is eventually revealed by its abrogating
verse – is unclear. Moreover, as Muṣṭafā Zayd points out, Abū Muslim’s suggestion
that the ones who did not offer the ṣadaqa were the hypocrites conflicts with the
apparent sense of 58:13, in which God relents towards the believers who had fallen
short; similarly the ḥadīth reports in this regard.104
Another alternative to naskh was proposed by Israr Ahmad Khan, based on his
understanding of Quranic coherence, influenced by Iṣlāḥī (who did affirm abrogation
here and elsewhere). His perspective is that verses 7-13 of Sūrat al-Mujādila “form
one single context dealing with one subject matter”, and that it is unreasonable to
suppose that these two verses were separated by any period of time.105 Khan goes on
to consider the explanations for the initial ruling and its cancellation. If the ṣadaqa was
mandated in order to deter people from abusing the privilege of private counsel with
the Prophet106, then it would make no sense for this to be lifted so that they could
immediately resume this abuse.107 If the obligation was lifted because the poor
Muslims were unable to afford the privilege108, then there was no need for further
revelation, since they were already exempted in 58:12: “If you do not have the means,
God is most forgiving and merciful.”109 A fundamental problem with Khan’s
interpretation is demonstrated by his translation of a key phrase from 58:13, as follows:
“If you do not do so (fa-idh lam tafʿalū), and Allah forgives you…” – which he takes
to be a continuation of the dispensation provided in the preceding verse.110 However,
since the particle idh is used for the past tense and to explain cause111, it ought to be
rendered: “Since you did not”. This confirms the past tense for the preceding phrase
also, which Khan renders “Is it that you are afraid of spending sums in charity?” based
on his view that this is an address to the poor believers; the verse goes on to exhort the
payment of zakāt, rendering that theory unlikely.
The preceding discussion has demonstrated that the theory of abrogation
entails the existence of what may be deemed a “manageable quantity” of contradiction
between Quranic verses. Knowledge of naskh was considered from an early stage to
be an essential quality for an exegete112: this is an affirmation of the importance of
intratextual exegesis. Some scholars argued against naskh in the Qurʾān based on
various convictions concerning the Quranic corpus; they have raised significant
questions regarding the import of the textual evidences for naskh (such as Q 2:106),
and have provided alternative explanations for many of the alleged occurrences.
However, some of those explanations fail to be more convincing than the claims of
abrogation: unless that is resolved, naskh will remain an essential part of the mufassir’s
toolkit. The existence of minimisers and outright sceptics can certainly encourage
greater rigour on the part of interpreters, and it is reasonable to expect harmonisation
efforts to be exhausted before resorting to abrogation: this is the classically-advocated
procedure.
108 See Rāzī, Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, 15/275; cf. Khūʾī, Prolegomena, p. 246.
109 The Theory of Abrogation, p. 95.
110 The same is found with a number of prominent Qurʾān translators.
111 See Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 3/1012.
112 See Al-Burhān, p. 273, and the qualifications list in Al-Itqān, 6/2297.
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113According to Walid Saleh in his review of Boullata (ed.), Literary Structures of Religious Meaning, “this
elementary hypothesis is absent from much of the scholarly literature” (Saleh, ‘In Search of a
Comprehensible Qurʾān,’ p. 160). In Karen Bauer’s words, exegetes “presume that there is intrinsic
meaning to the Qurʾān, and their entire venture seems to be focused on understanding the original
meaning or meanings” (Introduction to Bauer (ed)., Aims, Methods and Contexts, p. 7).
114 See Al-Takmīl (in Rasāʾil, p. 229). Farāhī singles out Rāzī for criticism in that he listed as many
divergent opinions as possible, and thereby “made the Qurʾān into an obscure (mushtabih) and confusing
book which one cannot hope to understand”. He further criticises Rāzī’s stance on the speculative (ẓannī)
status of linguistic proofs, which is contrary to the Qurʾān’s affirmation of its clarity (bayān). Farāhī states
pointedly: “It is high time to look anew at that which we had treated with suspicion, and approach it
with a positive attitude” (ibid, pp. 233–234). For further responses to Rāzī’s account of the “ten
dependencies” of linguistic proofs (as in Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, 1/42, 4/175 etc.), see Qaraḍāwī, Kayfa
Nataʿāmal, pp. 45–46 and Ḥusayn, Maʿāyīr al-Qabūl wa-l-Radd, p. 682 ff.; Ibn Taymiyya composed his
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It is He who has sent this Scripture down to you [Prophet]. Some of its verses are
definite in meaning (āyāt muḥkamāt) – these are the cornerstone of the Scripture (umm
al-kitāb)115 – and others are ambiguous (mutashābihāt). The perverse at heart eagerly
pursue the ambiguities in their attempt to make trouble and to pin down a specific
meaning of their own116: only God knows the true meaning. Those firmly grounded
in knowledge say, ‘We believe in it: it is all from our Lord’- only those with real
perception will take heed.
This verse and the categories it delineates have attracted much scholarly attention.
John Wansbrough claimed that it is “unanimously agreed to represent the point of
departure for all scriptural exegesis”. 117 It will become clear below, based on the
reception of this verse in Muslim hermeneutical scholarship, that it has particular
significance for TQQ, in that it mandates referring difficult verses to those which are
deemed authoritative in import.
Definitions
The precise meaning of mutashābih in 3:7 is subject to numerous different
opinions.118 Its linguistic denotation is “resemblance”, in that the competing
interpretations resemble each other such that the exegete must exert effort to
distinguish the correct one(s). Another possibility is that certain verses have a correct
meaning alongside others which are false, yet ripe for exploitation by opponents of the
extensive Darʾ Taʿāruḍ al-Naql wa-l-ʿAql in response to this approach of “Rāzī and his followers” (Darʾ al-
Taʿāruḍ, 1/4).
115 Cf. the other usage of this expression as in 3.1.2 above.
116 This is an interpretive gloss; the expression ibtighāʾa taʾwīlihī may be read more plainly as “seeking
after its meaning/interpretation”.
117 Wansbrough, Quranic Studies, p. 149; in Wild, ‘Sura 3:7 as an Exegetical Challenge,’ p. 423.
118 See Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 4/1336–1338.
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religion (the “perverse at heart” in 3:7) – this is because the verse bears resemblance
to meanings which are not intended.119
Beyond the context of 3:7, the term is employed in Quranic scholarship in four
ways, two of which pertain to interpretation. The usages not relevant to this particular
discussion are, first, a description of the whole Qurʾān as being mutashābih, as in Q
39:23 – as noted previously, this is taken by some commentators to denote the stylistic
unity and non-contradiction within the Quranic corpus. It is thus relevant to the
Principle of Consistency, in that parts of the Qurʾān resemble each other. Related to
this is the usage of mutashābih as a descriptor of near-parallel verses which are studied
comparatively – this is further explored in Chapter 4.120
As for the two usages relevant to interpretability, these are to consider the
mutashābih as having meaning known only to God; or to consider them as ambiguous
and in need of explication. These can be derived from the famous debate over the
syntax (i.e. sentence break known as waqf) in 3:7, whereby the reciter affirms either
that its taʾwīl (interpretation) is known to none “except God (illā Llāh)” – as in most
translations, such as Abdel Haleem’s above – or that it is known to none “except Allah
and those firmly grounded in knowledge (wa-l-rāsikhūna fī l-ʿilm)” as in the Qara’i
translation, for example. The choice between these syntactic readings is not simply a
matter of taste or transmission, nor does it rely solely upon internal Quranic evidence;
according to Suyūṭī, the majority of scholars argued for stopping upon “except God”
due to a number of traditions attributed to Ibn ʿAbbās and other early authorities.121
However, another narration from Ibn ʿAbbās has him declaring: “I am among those
[firmly grounded in knowledge] who know its interpretation.”122 However, in reality
Ibn ʿAṭiyya, Al-Muḥarrar al-Wajīz, p. 274. As such, the intended fitna is to create confusion and spread
119
doubts among Muslims, and the intended taʾwīl is distortion of the true meanings.
120 Witztum (‘Variant Traditions, Relative Chronology and the Study of Intra-Quranic parallels’, p. 44)
suggests that 3:7 could be taken as referring to this phenomenon. However, he does not explain how
this fits the context of contrast with the muḥkam.
121 See Al-Itqān, 4/1340 ff.
122Al-Itqān, 4/1339. Ibn ʿAṭiyya argues that Ibn ʿAbbās advanced both opinions because both are
correct, i.e. there are knowable and unknowable categories of mutashābih (Al-Muḥarrar al-Wajīz, pp. 276–
277). According to Ibn Taymiyya: “Tashābuh is a relative matter, as one thing may be mutashābih to one
person and not another. However, there are verses which are muḥkam with no tashābuh in them for
anyone. As for these mutashābih verses, once their meaning becomes known, they are no longer
mutashābih” (Majmūʿ al-Fatāwā, 13/79). I return to these issues at the end of this section.
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the distance between the two positions is not as great as it appears at first glance.123
Both accept the existence of verses which require interpretation, and of which the
interpretation is possible by referring to the unequivocal and authoritative verses.
These equivocal verses may be classed as mutashābih or not, in that Q 3:7 is not
explicit in excluding a middle set of verses which are neither muḥkam nor
mutashābih.124 In this connection, Zarkashī cites an opinion which defines the former
as “that which is known [in meaning] without the need for bayān (explanation)”
whereas the latter is “that which cannot be explained (lā yurjā bayānuh)”.125 This
implies that there are other verses which require explanation, and whose explanation
is possible: according to other definitions, these are the mutashābih – or this term
encompasses both types of verse.
The result is that the mutashābih refers to a similar concept as the mujmal
discussed previously (and see 4.1.1). In jurisprudence, these terms are considered
equivalent by the majority of legal schools.126 The definition in the Ḥanafī school
appears to have shifted from interpretable to uninterpretable, in that Abū l-Ḥasan al-
Karkhī (d. 340/952) defined it as “That which has more than one possible meaning”,
whereas later authorities defined it as “Any expression which has an inherently obscure
meaning and has not been clarified by Qurʾān or Sunna”. As Muḥammad Adīb al-Ṣāliḥ
argues, such a definition precludes the mutashābih from relevance to juristic questions
and confines it to the domain of doctrine.127 This echoes the point raised by Yaḥyā b.
Sharaf al-Nawawī (d. 676/1277) as cited in Al-Itqān: “It is implausible that God would
address His servants in terms which none in all creation has hope of understanding.”128
123 I will not elaborate here on the numerous points of divergence in interpreting Q 3:7, such that the
two stances may be reconciled in other ways. An example is the word “taʾwīlahu”: does it refer to
interpretation in the conventional sense, or a kind of ultimate knowledge which is the sole preserve of
God? Does its pronoun refer to the mutashābih portion of the Qurʾān specifically, or the whole scripture?
See Wild’s summary of “legal, rhetorical, and anti-exegetical” interpretations of the verse (‘Sura 3:7 as
an Exegetical Challenge’ in Wild (ed.), Self-Referentiality, pp. 429–430).
124 See Farāhī, Niẓām al-Qurʾān, 1/345.
125 Al-Burhān, p. 293.
126 Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ, 1/274.
127 Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ, 1/257–258.
128 Al-Itqān, 4/1339.
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We may conclude that the concept of tashābuh does not present a significant
challenge to the Principle of Interpretability which underpins tafsīr in general. This is
because the strongest claims relegate this to a small number of verses, such as the
mysterious “Opening Letters” (al-muqaṭṭaʿāt) which commence certain sūras, and to
such details as when the Day of Judgement (described in so many verses) will actually
occur. Some applied the term to verses which describe God with attributes potentially
resembling creation129; yet this pious relegation (tafwīḍ) did not prevent other scholars
from affirming (ithbāt) the apparent meanings or otherwise interpreting these
attributes metaphorically (taʾwīl). This fact points to the subjectivity of identifying the
mutashābihāt, as I shall discuss further below. Not only is tashābuh not a barrier to
exegesis, but in fact the identification of mutashābih and muḥkam verses can be seen
as an important starting point and feature of intraquranic exegesis, as I shall now
explain.
word umm implies that these verses are in harmony with each other131, thus making
them suitable to be a foundation for understanding the entire book.
These meanings are made more explicit by Ibn al-Ḥaṣṣār (d. 620/1223) as cited
in Al-Itqān:
God has divided the verses of the Qurʾān into muḥkam and mutashābih and described
the former as “the source of the Book” in that the latter are referred back to it. These
[muḥkam verses] are those which are relied upon in understanding what God wants
from His creation with respect to the things they are obligated to know… The
Legislator intends for us to give priority to understanding these univocal source-texts.
Once you have achieved certainty and deep knowledge thereby, you would not be
troubled by anything that is difficult to understand.132
The mutashābih is of two types: for one type, the meaning is identified by referring it
to the muḥkam and examining it in its light; for the other type, there is no way to
appreciate its true meaning.133
It is thus seen that the language used to describe the process of analysing the
mutashābih verses is very much the language of tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān.134 As
such, the existence of equivocal verses is treated not as an intractable problem, but as
the very genesis of the craft of exegesis. Whereas some may question the wisdom of
the existence of scriptural texts that are less than explicit and give rise to ambiguity,
this contention is answered variously with reference to human nature and language,
and to the purpose of religion. As Qaraḍāwī argues, to make the entire Qurʾān muḥkam
and its verses univocal would mean stripping it of its eloquence and flexibility;
depriving the scholars of the opportunity to explore its deeper meanings; and removing
131Ṭabāṭabāʾī, Al-Mīzān, 3/23. See also Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 4/21, where this meaning (“as though they
are a single verse”) is suggested alongside the possibility that each muḥkam verse is like an umm in its own
right.
132 Al-Itqān, 4/1349.
133 Ibid.
134This point is illustrated particularly well by this definition narrated from Mujāhid b. Jabr: “The
muḥkamāt are those verses which pertain to lawful and unlawful things. The remainder is mutashābih: its
parts corroborate each other (yuṣaddiqu baʿḍuhu baʿḍan)” (Al-Itqān, 4/1337). This may mean that the
muḥkam corroborates the mutashābih by clarifying the correct meanings; it may also imply that mutashābih
verses are not mutually contradictory as they sometimes appear before being clarified by the muḥkam.
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the element of testing which is one of the aims of revelation, as human beings are
obligated (taklīf) to strive for truth and follow it.135
It follows that the categories of muḥkam and mutashābih may be employed
constructively within a TQQ methodology which specifies which kinds of verses
require referral, and which others function as clearer authorities. Therefore, more than
saying that “verses explain each other” or are “understood in each other’s light”, there
is a sense in which some verses are foundational and take priority over others.136 By
so clarifying the mutashābih texts, they may be granted a status of “secondary
foundationality”, described by some scholars as muḥkam li-ghayrihī.137
An ostensibly objective definition is available for the muḥkam, namely: that
which accepts only one interpretation. However, in practice, identifying those
incontrovertible verses remains highly subjective, as illustrated by the existence of
such a work as Mutashābih al-Qurʾān by the prominent Muʿtazilite Qāḍī ʿAbd al-
Jabbār.138 In reality, it is a dialectical work which disputes the proofs relied upon by
other theological schools, from Ashʿarīs to anthropomorphists; the author
acknowledges the problem of subjectivity and relativity in his introduction.139 One
man’s muḥkam is another man’s mutashābih; therefore, beyond accusing opposing
schools of distorting the evidences by reversing the roles and treating the ambiguous
as foundational, it would be necessary – in order for this polemic to be convincing –
to demonstrate why specific texts should be agreed upon as muḥkam.140
Qaraḍāwī, Kayfa Nataʿāmal, p. 270. See also ʿAbd al-Jabbār, Mutashābih al-Qurʾān, pp. 22–24 and Rāzī,
135
Rather than delving extensively into the most foundational premise here, let us
recall the citation by Ibn Taymiyya in his Muqaddima of the famous report in which
the Prophet’s companion Muʿādh b. Jabal, as he was being sent to govern in Yemen,
was asked about how he would derive answers to questions arising. Although its
authenticity has been challenged in terms of its chain of narration, there is general
acceptance that this ḥadīth reflects the Muslim scholarly attitude to the primary sources
and the place of individual reasoning. As explained in Chapter 1, Ibn Taymiyya
141For the difference between Ibn Taymiyya and the “mainstream”, see 1.5.2 above. The difference
between “best” and “primary” is that the former amounts to little more than lip-service, as explained
with respect to Ibn Taymiyya’s hierarchy in his Muqaddima. Various figures, such as Farāhī and
Ṭabāṭabāʾī, have advocated for intraquranic methods to be given actual primacy.
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The Messenger of God asked Muʿādh while sending him to Yemen, “By what will
you judge (bi-ma taḥkum)?” He replied, “By the Book of God.” “And if you do not
find it (fa-in lam tajid) [there]?” “By the Sunna of the Messenger of God.” “And if
you do not find it [there]?” “I shall strive to form an opinion (ajtahidu raʾyī).” So
God’s Messenger struck [Muʿādh’s] chest and said: “Praise be to God Who has guided
the messenger of God’s Messenger to what pleases God’s Messenger.”
Clearly, this text says nothing directly about exegesis, but it grants priority to the
Qurʾān as a source of legislation – a point which is reflected in all the books of Islamic
jurisprudence. However, it does not necessarily follow that the best way to interpret
the Qurʾān is to consult the Qurʾān itself.
To give a comparison: a sentence I utter today is to be understood with
reference to the denotations and connotations of the words in this communicative act
between speaker and listeners, along with the context of place, time and situation in
which the words are delivered. Whereas the immediate speech context (i.e. sentences
before and after) would play an important role in following my argument, primacy
would not be given in this situation to statements of previous weeks or years, or to
others yet to be delivered (such may provide further clarification to speech which must,
nevertheless, be clear upon delivery). Reference to other parts of my speech may be
done in a meaningful way if the principles outlined in this chapter are assumed to hold,
particularly unity and consistency (although later utterances may be taken as
“abrogating” the earlier). We may certainly accept that this holistic approach is
important and indispensable, but it is difficult to maintain that it is “best” in any
meaningful sense. This thought process may be compared with the situation of TQQ,
which is arguably both valid and necessary – but it cannot be deemed superior to other
tools of exegesis in the absolute terms advanced by Ibn Taymiyya and those who
followed him in this regard, until it was elevated to “consensus of salaf and khalaf” –
a claim I challenged in Chapter 1.
142The term itself admits some ambiguity in this respect. Rather than just “hearing” the Qurʾān, the
exegete must play a role in having it speak.
143See Naguib, ‘Bint al-Shāṭiʾ’s Approach to tafsīr,’ pp. 58–61. The resulting ḥukm al-Qurʾān – which,
despite this term, does not confer perfect objectivity (ibid, p. 68) – then reveals the internal coherence of
the passage.
144 Indeed, Muṭayrī’s book Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān: Taʾṣīl wa Taqwīm was originally titled (as a PhD
thesis): Asbāb al-Khaṭaʾ fī Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān (causes of error) – and this is reflected in his Salafī
critique of TQQ from other schools. Among the causes he discusses are some connected to ʿaqīda
(doctrine). He also lists among the sources of error: contradicting prophetic ḥadīths or even the opinions
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of early authorities (salaf) – despite this, the author could not escape the “consensus” re: the superiority
and priority of TQQ. See Muṭayrī, pp. 74 and 321 ff.
145 Al-Burhān, pp. 348–354. See Chapter 1 for more on Zarkashī’s account of TQQ.
146 Al-Burhān, p. 349.
147 Al-Burhān, p. 349.
148 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, p. 41. A variation on this are asbāb reports which indicate that extra phrases
were revealed in response to confusion over the original verse. This has been narrated concerning the
phrase “min al-fajr” being added to 2:187, and “ghayri ulī l-ḍarar” to 4:95. The same applies to whole
verses which came as clarification, as has been narrated concerning 2:286 (to clarify 2:284) and 21:101
(to clarify 21:98). The relevant narrations are in Suyūṭī’s Al-Durr al-Manthūr.
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“question”, as eloquent speech sometimes involves turning away from the question as
posed.149
For Muṭayrī, there are two main factors which make some TQQ opinions more
authoritative than others: first, the person who expresses this opinion, in that Prophetic
exegesis is accepted absolutely, and the exegesis of Companions and Followers to a
lesser degree. Second, the extent to which the results of TQQ agree with other
principles and sources of exegesis (uṣūl al-tafsīr), especially the Sunna.150 The
question arises here: in the presence of an explicit, authentic ḥadīth, is a TQQ-based
explanation still more authoritative (“best” and taken “first”, according to Ibn
Taymiyya’s schema)? This proposition has not found the favour of the exegetes in
practice, and modern writers such as Muṭayrī have pointed out that TQQ is open to
abuse, so to speak, in substantiating various opinions. His explanation leaves the
question unanswered: which has authority over the other, Qurʾān or Sunna?
Ṭayyār argues, similarly, that the authority of a TQQ-based opinion varies
according to the authority of the exegete, since it is based upon his ijtihād. As such,
Prophetic TQQ is the only kind with clear authority, alongside the most explicit and
proximate Quranic clarifications as described previously.151 The example he provides
of Prophetic TQQ is the explanation of “mafātiḥ al-ghayb” in Sūrat al-Anʿām (6:59)
as referring to the five categories of the Unseen as expressed in 31:34. However, as I
explained in Chapter 2, some exegetes acknowledged the ḥadīth without adopting it as
the (sole) explanation of the verse; thus it may be said that they took it as no more than
an “authoritative example” and preferred to take the verse at its universal face value.152
149 One form of this is known as “al-uslūb al-ḥakīm” (see Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 4/1311).
150 Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, p. 75.
151 Al-Taḥrīr fī Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, pp. 46–47.
152 Similar can be said concerning the ḥadīth linked to Q 1:7 which explains “those who incur wrath” as
Jews, and “those who are astray” as Christians (see Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 1/199, where it is
taken as an “illustration”). In Nasr et al (eds.), The Study Quran, the relevant ḥadīth is made a postscript to
a thematic study of the causes of ghaḍab and ḍalāl in the Qurʾān (pp. 10–11). The editor, Joseph Lumbard,
makes an extreme understatement by describing this identification (found in almost all tafsīr) as “one
interpretation given by a number of commentators”; he implies falsely that this ḥadīth is weaker than
others accepted in tafsīr, describing it as “a saying attributed to the Prophet, though not considered to
be of the highest degree of authenticity”. To his credit, he acknowledges that the common opinion is
often supported with other verses, such as 5:60 and 5:77 (see Ṭabarī, Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 1/158, 162). If this
opinion is expressed as: “not like the worst members of former communities”, then it is uncontroversial
and clearly well attested in the Qurʾān. An earlier alternative view was presented by Rāzī (Mafātīḥ al-
Ghayb, 1/287), in which these terms – following from the praise of believers in 1:6 – refer to kuffār and
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munāfiqūn respectively, thus paralleling the opening of Sūrat al-Baqara (2:1–5, 6–7, 8 ff.) – see also Ālūsī’s
response (Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 1/312).
153 See Shāfiʿī, Al-Risāla, pp. 91–93. Saleh’s observation that “the traditionalist never bothered to explain
how a Companion knew the meaning of a certain āya” (‘Historiography,’ p. 26) can be extended to this
situation.
154 Muqaddima, p. 93. I noted the unclear provenance of this quotation in Chapter 1.
155See ʿAlwānī, Tafsīr Sūrat al-Anʿām, pp. 27, 29 – the author made some unreferenced attributions to
support his contention that most or all Prophetic tafsīr was of this nature. See also Chapter 1 re:
Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s similar claim.
156 Muṭayrī, Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, p. 57; the author himself includes improper examples.
157 Bātilī, Al-Tafsīr al-Nabawī. It contains 318 narrations.
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“Upon the revelation of ‘Those who believe and do not mix their belief with
wrongdoing’ [wa lam yalbisū īmānahum bi-ẓulm – 6:82], the companions of the
Messenger of God found it onerous and said: Which of us does not wrong himself?
So the Messenger of God said: It is not as you suppose; rather, it is as Luqmān said to
his son: ‘O my son, do not associate partners (shirk) with God: verily, shirk is a
tremendous ẓulm’.” (31:13)
Ḥadīth commentators158 explain that the confusion arose from the universal (ʿāmm)
term “ẓulm” which could refer to any type of transgression against another’s rights, or
misplacing something. It gains another kind of universality by being indefinite in a
negated sentence (nakira fī siyāq al-nafy); but this combined universality is still subject
to particularisation (takhṣīṣ), and this is what the majority of commentators concluded
based upon the ḥadīth. However, as described previously, some exegetes – including
Zamakhsharī and Ṭabāṭabāʾī – opted to retain the universal meaning of ẓulm or a
variation upon that.
To ascertain whether this ḥadīth represents a genuine case of TQQ (as opposed
to independent Prophetic teaching), we can ask: could the meaning of shirk be
independently deduced, even without reference to the verse of Luqmān? The following
are indications within the verse and its context:
1. The entire story and the point of contention between the “two parties” was
about shirk.159
2. The verse itself references ẓulm in opposition to īmān, implying that its
opposite is intended.160
158See the commentary of Ibn Ḥajar, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 1/152. On this genre see Blecher, Said the Prophet of
God.
159Rāzī, Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, 7/57. See Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 7/333 for elaboration on the
contextual argument.
160Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 348. This may also be taken as an appeal to Quranic norms, i.e. faith is
generally contrasted with disbelief, not lesser sin.
166
3. According to Arabic rhetoric (balāgha), the word ẓulm being indefinite may
imply “a great injustice” which in turn suggests the greatest form – shirk – and
indeed may hint to the very wording of Q 31:13.161
4. Shirk is a dominant theme in Sūrat al-Anʿām, beginning from its first verse.
5. “Most” Quranic warnings to ẓālimūn pertain to the unbelievers, says Ibn Rajab,
citing Q 14:42 and 42:44 as examples162; Shinqīṭī cites Q 2:254 and 10:106
alongside the verse of Luqmān in his exegesis of 6:82.163
This shows that the citation of 31:13 was not necessary. On the other hand, it may not
have been sufficient to dispel the misconception, as its wording does not entail that
shirk is the only form of ẓulm. While some narrations have only the quotation, others
include a clarification from Muḥammad to the effect that “It means shirk”. This may
be why Zarkashī states that the Prophet based his explanation on 6:82 itself and only
cited 31:13 by way of support (istiʾnās) for the idea of shirk being referred to as
ẓulm.164 It may well be, as the Shāfiʿī quotation implies, that the Prophet corrected the
Companions based on what he himself understood from the Qurʾān. An obstacle to
this – if contextual clues excluding 31:13 are disregarded – is that some narrations
have it that the latter was in fact revealed in response to the confusion. Noting the
conflict with other narrations which say “Have you not heard what Luqmān said”,
Nawawī suggests that the Prophet said this to them after the verse was revealed in
response to their confusion.165 This seems less plausible than to say – following
Dihlawī’s observations above concerning asbāb al-nuzūl – that this was either an
occasion for re-revelation of the verse (or fragment), or that its description as a sabab
is imprecise.166
My conclusion from this analysis is that this incident is not as clear an example
of TQQ as generally assumed. More importantly, it cannot be used to establish
3.4.3 – Quranism
The preceding discussion assumes that the Prophet was given the task of
explaining the Qurʾān; that he carried out this duty to one extent or another; and that
this is reflected in the ḥadīth literature which is considered by the bulk of mainstream
Islam to represent the second source of legislation known as the Sunna. In contrast,
the various individuals and groups known as Quranists (see 2.7 above) do not accept
the ḥadīth corpus as authoritative – even the most “authentic” reports by Sunnī or Shīʿī
standards – insisting that only the Qurʾān should be treated as revelation and scripture.
According to the most influential proponents of this trend in the modern era – such as
Rashad Khalifa and Ghulam Ahmed Parwez – Muḥammad was tasked only with
delivering the divine message intact.167 The Prophetic bayān, rather than explanation
167 For this and other key arguments of the two figures, see, respectively: Musa, Ḥadīth as Scripture, p. 14,
and Baljon, Modern Muslim Koran Interpretation, pp. 17–19. Musa draws attention to early manifestations
of ḥadīth rejection by examining Shāfiʿī’s response to that trend; however, this does not establish
continuity with modern Quranism. Moreover, while insisting that it is “an inherently Muslim response
to inherently Muslim concerns” (p. 3, see also 85), Musa downplays the effects of Western dominance
and the ideological trends such as liberalism. See Brown, Rethinking Tradition, p. 21 ff. for a balanced
treatment of ‘internal’ trends and ‘external’ influences.
168
and exegesis, should be understood in its other sense of mere proclamation, whereas
God himself retained the prerogative to fulfil its bayān-as-clarification.168
In my view, there are three main arenas in which debates between Quranists
(also known as ḥadīth deniers) and affirmers of the authority of ḥadīth take place; only
one of these is of direct relevance to our discussion on the validity of non-TQQ (or
specifically ḥadīth-influenced) exegesis of the Qurʾān. Before visiting and refining
that aspect, I shall outline the other two and consider some of their problems.
168 Daniel Brown quotes ʿInāyat-Allāh Khān Mashriqī as saying: “The correct and the only meaning of
the Qurʾān lies, and is preserved, within itself, and a perfect and detailed exegesis of its words is within
its own pages. One part of the Qurʾān explains the other…” (Rethinking Tradition, p. 45). Khalifa went
further to state that Muḥammad was forbidden from explaining the Qurʾān. He supported this with the
following translation of Q 75:17-19: ‘It is we who will put it together as a Quran. Once we reveal it, you
shall follow it. Then, it is we who will explain it’ (emphasis his; see Musa, p. 91).
169 A translation of this work forms the latter part of Musa, Ḥadīth as Scripture.
169
core strategies was to establish that Muḥammad received two types of revelation,
which he termed “recited” and “non-recited”, represented by the Qurʾān and Sunna,
respectively. A nuanced interpretation of the latter would be that the angelic
communications and spiritual inspiration he received – other than the direct words of
the Qurʾān – came to be reflected in his other teachings, including his clarifications on
the scripture.170 As part of his case, Shāfiʿī analysed the statements to the effect that
the Prophet was to teach both al-kitāb and al-ḥikma (e.g. 2:151), arguing that if the
former is the Qurʾān, the latter must be a distinct entity, and there is no more fitting
referent than the Sunna.171 Other proof-texts from the Qurʾān in support of seeking out
and following the Prophetic teachings external to it are such as say “Obey God and
obey the Apostle” (4:59) or the instruction contained within 59:7 – which begins by
discussing the distribution of spoils of war – to “Take whatever the Apostle gives you,
and relinquish whatever he forbids you”.172 Despite the context being clear, the
Prophet’s companion Ibn Masʿūd and then Shāfiʿī and others argued that this
represents a universal principle.173 These are some of the key texts used to support the
legitimacy of ḥadīth from the Qurʾān.
Needless to say, modern Quranists are not convinced by these citations. The
identification of al-ḥikma with the Sunna is plausible but not compelling, especially
when these verses are studied thematically. 174 It is a straightforward manoeuvre to
relegate obedience to the Messenger to his own lifetime, and to treat the likes of 59:7
as specific to the stated context. For Khalifa, obedience to the Messenger after his life
consists in following only the Qurʾān.175 For their part, the Quranists advance a
selection of Quranic texts which they take to support their stance. As Musa notes,
170 See Musa, p. 5, where the matter is over-simplified. I believe it is important to distinguish between
this “other revelation” as it is posited to exist firstly as divine and angelic communication with the
Prophet; secondly as the Prophet’s teachings to his followers; and thirdly as the community’s efforts to
gather these teachings in the form of disparate reports and then compiled books of Sunna.
171 See Musa, p. 40 and Brown, p. 51.
172 This and the previous verse are given here in Ali Quli Qara’i’s translation.
173See Ālūsī, Rūḥ al-Maʿānī, 27/29–30. The issue of spoils may be thus seen as comparable to a sabab
nuzūl which is included primarily but does not limit the extension of the rule.
174Other prophets were given or taught “al-kitāb wa-l-ḥikma” (e.g. 4:54, 5:111). Perhaps the clearest
support for Shāfiʿī’s interpretation are verses which describe them both as being “sent down” on
Muḥammad (e.g. 4:113).
175 Musa, p. 14. See also Brown, pp. 71–72.
170
Khalifa had a predilection for verses containing the word ḥadīth, such as Q 45:6 [his
translation]: “These are God’s verses; we recite them for you truthfully. In which
‘Hadith’ beside God and His verses do they believe?”176 If reading the later ḥadīth
terminology into this verse appears both anachronistic and anti-contextual, the same
can be said of examples I shared in Chapter 2 of the tendency to read much of the
Qurʾān as a treatise in support of Quranism rather than exhortations to the idolaters,
Jews and Christians. Whereas there is abundant support for their insistence that the
Qurʾān is “complete, perfect, and fully detailed”, the attempt by Khalifa and then
Yüksel to make Q 17:46 a proof for mentioning God “in the Qurʾān alone” again fails
to withstand contextual and thematic scrutiny.177
The foregoing examples were intended to demonstrate that the first “arena” of
debate between Quranists and ḥadīth-affirming Muslim scholars, while bearing
considerable potential for addressing the core questions, has little by way of final
conclusions. On the one hand, the Qurʾān emphasises its completeness and perfection,
while not precluding that secondary sources may be drawn upon to help explain it. On
the other hand, the Qurʾān also underlines the role of the Messenger to convey the
revelation accurately, which implies that any misunderstandings on the part of its
audience would need to be addressed: either through further āyāt of the scripture, or
through less formal means. The question remains whether and how those explanations
– which presumably were needed only for some of the Qurʾān – were preserved and
what authority they continue to hold for later generations of believers.
176 Musa, p. 91. Other examples are 39:23 and 31:6 (ibid).
177Yüksel, A Reformist Translation, p. 205. This is a good test case for TQQ, as there is a parallel in 39:45,
where the wording is “Idhā dhukira Llāhu waḥdah” rather than “Idhā dhakarta rabbaka fi-l-Qurʾāni waḥdah” as
in 17:46. As Yüksel acknowledges, the various occurrences in 7:70, 40:12/84 and 60:4 all refer to “God
alone” as object of faith, worship and supplication. However, he prefers to take this instance as being
about “Quran alone” and provides this as a heading for the verse. He also supports his position with
reference to the controversial “19 mathematical system” first posited by Khalifa.
171
Ibn Saʿd reported via ʿIkrima from Ibn ʿAbbās, that ʿAlī b. Abī Ṭālib sent him to the
Kharijites, saying: “Go to them and debate them; but do not dispute with them using
the Qurʾān, for it is multifaceted (dhū wujūh). Rather, debate them with the Sunna.”
He reported with another chain that Ibn ʿAbbās said to him: “O commander of the
faithful, I am more knowledgeable than they concerning the Book of God, for in our
houses it was revealed.” He replied: “You are right; but the Qurʾān is multivalent
(ḥammāl) and multifaceted. You will talk, and they will talk. Rather, dispute with
them using the Sunna (khāṣimhum bi-l-sunan), for they will find no escape from it.”
So he went to them and disputed using the Sunna, leaving them devoid of
arguments.186
Quranists may well point out the tension between such statements and the Qurʾān’s
self-descriptions as clear and perfect guidance.187 Putting aside this theoretical
problem, I suggest that the neediness of the Quranic text is a fact experienced by any
scholar who undertakes the detailed process of exegesis.188 There are various types of
ijmāl that cannot be clarified by intraquranic investigation alone: some of which are
necessary to reach a plausible understanding of the text. For example, the mufassir
often needs to know the revelatory context and the initial referents of a Quranic
locution; despite Farāhī’s optimism about deducing this information from the Qurʾān
itself, this is not possible in all cases. This very need is what led exegetes to speculate
in many cases, as suggested by Dihlawī. Another example is statements which appear
to contradict: these may be resolved by external context, or the Sunna may reveal the
specific application of each, or that one ruling has abrogated the other.189
Rather than focusing on the “neediness” of individual verses of the Qurʾān, the
idea may be taken to apply to the text as a whole and the broader context in which it
must be placed and understood. The term Sunna (or plural al-sunan as in the second
narration from ʿAlī above) is sometimes used in early sources in the broader sense of
the knowledge of religion as practised by the community.190 As the narration from ʿAlī
also suggests, the Qurʾān is more subject to biased reading when taken in isolation, as
opposed to reading it in conjunction with the shared understanding which is derived,
in large part, from the teachings and actions of the Prophet. Therefore, one may engage
in a Sunnī reading of the Qurʾān and/or readings influenced by modern-day
worldviews – but a completely objective reading is unattainable.
191For an outline of types of clarification or modification by the Sunna of the Qurʾān, see Nyazee, Islamic
Jurisprudence, pp. 177–179.
192 Rethinking Tradition, pp. 45–46. See also Qasmi, ‘Towards a New Prophetology’.
193 See a recent example in Yüksel, A Reformist Translation, pp. 505–509.
194 This can be seen in Shabbir Ahmed (The Qur’an as it Explains Itself, xiii); also Baljon, pp. 76–78.
195 Musa, p. 14; see also Yüksel, p. 506. See Brown, Rethinking Tradition, pp. 101–102 for a discussion of
“Sunna without ḥadīth”. Javed Ghamidi, student of Amīn Aḥsan Iṣlāḥī, offers an account of prayer
(translated from his Urdu book entitled Mīzān) which incorporates ḥadīths but begins with a related
perspective on Abrahamic teachings (Islam: A Comprehensive Introduction, 262 ff.).
I have suggested previously that this is represented by the overall trajectory of Ibn Taymiyya’s
196
Muqaddima, which Walid Saleh termed “radical hermeneutics”. Works such as the Tafsīr of Ibn Kathīr
175
they may also highlight the dangers of allowing it to override the Sunna. My analysis
of a range of tafsīr works including that of Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī has demonstrated that
an exegete may well cite an opinion based on TQQ but prefer a different opinion.197
The opposite end of the spectrum is in fact more radical in that it rejects the
authority of any source beside the Qurʾān and insists on intraquranic methods coupled
with lexical and rational considerations. Notably absent is a detailed hermeneutical
account, which may be explained in part by the commitment of Quranists to the notion
that the Qurʾān is clear in practical terms, and therefore in no need of exegesis. 198
Between these two exist a range of approaches to exegesis which place TQQ
at the peak of hermeneutical methods. This is the theoretical position of Ibn Taymiyya
in the relevant section of his Muqaddima; in Chapter 1, I discussed various problems
with this account, as well as the contrast between its enthusiastic reception in
theoretical treatises and its limited application in exegetical works. One category of
works falling in the middle of the spectrum are those which took seriously the belief
that tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān is superior to other approaches, such as Farāhī and
Iṣlāḥī. They are of particular note because they built their explanations of the Qurʾān
upon an identified theory (i.e. naẓm), and their hermeneutical ideas continue to attract
interest and grow in influence.199 Similar may be said about the commentary of
Ṭabāṭabāʾī: its influence – in methodology, more than any novel conclusions – is
evident in subsequent Shīʿa tafsīr.200 Amritsarī drew inspiration from Dihlawī’s asbāb-
scepticism but his commentary is too concise to display much variance from the
general Ahl-i-Ḥadīth trend, despite the backlash he faced for incorporating aspects of
Māturīdī theology in the first edition.
are certainly not devoid of TQQ, but in real terms (ignoring sequence of presentation), priority is given
to the Sunna and opinions of the Salaf.
197See Rūmī, Dirāsāt fī Qawāʿid al-Tarjīḥ, pp. 314–370: the author has included examples of TQQ
working in tandem or competing, as it were, with other principles.
198 See 2.7 above.
199 Farāhī’s works continue to be published by Al-Dāʾira al-Ḥamīdiyya in Azamgarh, India, but the
associated seminary, Madrasat al-Iṣlāḥ, does not appear to have maintained a leading status in Quranic
training since his time. Through a network called Al-Mawrid, Javed Ghamidi promotes these works and
advances his own theories. Another prominent figure in Farāhī’s school is the ḥadīth specialist
Mohammad Akram Nadwi, who connects to the founder through his lesser-known (but longer-
associated) student, Akhtar Aḥsan Iṣlāḥī (d. 1958). [Source: lecture by M. Akram Nadwi, July 2014].
200 See Medoff, Ijtihad and Renewal, p. 112 ff.
176
201 In his introduction, Shinqīṭī does not include bold claims like most of the other TQQ exegetes about
how his work will be different, nor does he dismiss other works as lacking objectivity or being in need of
this new method to resolve their conflicting opinions.
177
of his cited parallels without analysis and comment, may have intended for these cross-
references to be of use to later exegetes inspired to investigate further.
The discussions in this chapter have encompassed a number of key principles
underpinning tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, providing it with its epistemic authority; as
well as related theories which may problematise this authority in some respects, such
as temporal revelation and abrogation. What emerges is a complex picture of what
TQQ involves in theory, just as there is a range of processes and methods outlined in
the next chapter. As such, it makes little sense to treat TQQ as one thing, on one level
of authority, such that it can be considered the “best” or otherwise. The distinction was
made above between levels of clarity of TQQ (from Zarkashī’s types of bayān), and
some scholars outlined factors which make TQQ opinions more compelling, namely
the personal authority of the exegete (especially the Prophet) and the support of other
exegetical sources and methods. If it is useful to compare TQQ with other approaches
in terms of authority, the account would be far more complex once these factors are
combined with the diversity of methods constituting TQQ. However, in my estimation,
an exegete is not in need of simplistic or detailed accounts of what is “best”, as exegesis
is a complex and subtle craft involving careful negotiation with the sources together
with rational and narrated evidence. In short, there will be times when his conclusions
depend most strongly upon one or another form of TQQ, and times when other
considerations are at the forefront: this is the reality of most exegesis as found in the
books.
178
Chapter 4
Methods and Genres in TQQ
4.0 – Introduction
At various points, I have referred to TQQ as the “intraquranic method” in the
singular; yet it has become clear through the theoretical discussions and study of
exegetical examples that there are various methods at play. In this chapter, these
aspects of methodology will be examined more closely and brought together into one
context, as though to represent the “TQQ toolkit” from which the exegetes have drawn
and continue to draw. I am also interested in how the truth-bearing potential of these
tools can be optimised for the future mufassir or student of the Qurʾān. The result may
then be seen as one “method” encompassing a variety of techniques and processes,
alongside the aspects of theory addressed previously. I take as a starting point the
relevant discussions identified in hermeneutical works of ʿulūm al-Qurʾān etc.
(Chapter 1) and build upon the observations in Chapter 2 concerning the practices of
those exegetes who defined their own projects as being based wholly or primarily upon
the intraquranic method. The methods discussed here can, in numerous cases, be linked
directly to theories discussed in Chapter 3; there are also fresh theoretical
considerations related to a number of the methods examined.
I have divided the methods under consideration into four groups, namely:
juristic, thematic, comparative and contextual. Excluding the first, these groups form
a conceptual whole, insofar as a thematic approach to the Quranic entails finding
parallels and building a more complete picture; a comparative approach is to give
some parts or meanings preponderance over others; and a contextual approach is to
draw conclusions from a text’s immediate surroundings rather than the broader corpus.
Under each group, I have drawn material and conclusions from both theory and
practice. As well as summarising the methods employed by the TQQ exegetes (and
others), I refer to the uṣūl and ʿulūm literature to clarify the methodology by which
these authors operated. In order to arrive at the most complete picture possible of a
theory and methodology of TQQ, I have widened the net to specialist works in Quranic
179
studies as well as other genres in Muslim scholarship which display direct relevance
to the methods under consideration. The first of these genres which have the
appearance of being external to Quranic studies is uṣūl al-fiqh.
1Vishanoff uses the latter along with “hermeneutics” in The Formation of Islamic Hermeneutics: How Sunni
Legal Theorists Imagined a Revealed Law.
2Such verses are described as āyāt al-aḥkām and commonly estimated at five hundred. As Zarkashī points
out (Al-Burhān, p. 262), other passages – such as narratives and parables – can also be sources for rulings.
Books of uṣūl al-fiqh do cite “non-legal” verses in the course of establishing legal principles, especially
points of language.
3 Muḥammad al-Ghazālī and others have cautioned that uṣūl al-fiqh cannot simply be universalised to
all texts and topics within the Qurʾān (see Ḥammād, ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Tafsīr, pp. 56–57). My own view is that
multiple types of uṣūl could be formulated to reflect different Quranic ‘genres’, or various ‘readings’ of
the text – see 4.2.3 below.
4 See Chapter 1. Other uṣūl al-fiqh topics are addressed elsewhere, particularly naskh (3.2.2) and dalālāt
(4.4.1).
180
in the Qurʾān which are “ẓāhir, i.e. denoting a meaning with alternative possibilities
remaining”, as opposed to the unequivocal category known as naṣṣ.5 These alternatives
are eliminated by recourse either to verbal or non-verbal indications (qarāʾin), and the
verbal consists of either connected or unconnected speech. Whereas the “connected”
type has the potential to be most authoritative (as I discussed in Chapter 3), the
“unconnected” category is the most relevant to the majority of intraquranic exegesis.
As Zarkashī explains, wherever there is an equivocal verse which is clarified
by another text, the latter has one of two effects: (a) to demonstrate that the equivocal
text is to be understood in other than its most apparent meaning: this is called taʾwīl
(interpretation) or takhṣīṣ (particularisation); or (b) to make clear the actual meaning
of that equivocal verse: this is bayān (clarification). The example he gives for taʾwīl
is the statement “Divorce is twice” (al-ṭalāqu marratān; Q 2:229): with reference to
the following verse, it becomes clear that this ṭalāq is the revocable type, which may
be followed by the third, binding pronouncement. As for bayān, this is exemplified by
Q 6:103 (lā tudrikuhu l-abṣār), which – as explained in Chapter 2 – may be taken as
denying altogether that people may see God, or merely denying that their vision may
encompass Him; according to Sunnī interpretation, other verses (75:23, 83:15) clarify
that only the latter sense is intended.6
Zarkashī lists nine general causes of ijmāl, which I summarise here:7
5 Al-Burhān, p. 361. It is evident from the heading given to this section that the term ẓāhir is being used
as an equivalent for mujmal; indeed, they are used interchangeably within this section, just as various
terms have been used synonymously with bayān/tabyīn. See 3.3 above for mutashābih and muḥkam as closely
related concepts.
6 Al-Burhān, pp. 361–362.
7 Al-Burhān, pp. 359–361. I have not included his examples.
181
These various types of ijmāl are then subject to bayān (or tabyīn), which may be found
within the immediate context, in other Quranic passages, or in the Sunna. Zarkashī
provides over thirty examples of bayān al-mujmal by separate passages of the Qurʾān
– though he does not describe it as such, this is an obvious application of tafsīr al-
Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān. These examples suffer from a lack of organisation and a
disconnect from theory.8 In many cases, it is not clear that any ijmāl is present and/or
that the other verse has provided genuine bayān; this applies most of all to the
examples of response (radd, jawāb) given in one verse to a contention raised by
various unbelievers in another. Some involve vague (mubham) expressions given more
detail elsewhere, such as the famous example of “those You have blessed (anʿamta
ʿalayhim)” (Q 1:7) being elaborated in 4:67, “Whoever obeys God and the Messenger
will be among those God has blessed (anʿama Llāhu ʿalayhim): the messengers, the
truthful, those who bear witness to the truth, and the righteous”. Zarkashī discusses
why this citation is more fitting as tafsīr than 19:58 (which contains the same
expression): he argues that its meaning is broader and closer to the intent of 1:7.9
Since the category of mujmal may be defined as a catch-all which includes
those which I discuss below, it is unsurprising that some examples pertain to takhṣīṣ
or taqyīd, or involve thematic or comparative approaches. An example of
particularisation (using a conditional) is that the apparent universal response to
supplications in 2:186 must be understood as predicated upon God’s will and intent to
respond – a point made explicit in 6:41 (“…if He wills”).10 A questionable thematic
reading is provided for Moses’ request to see God (7:143): Zarkashī cites an earlier
suggestion that he was not asking on his own behalf, but based on the Israelites’
8 Al-Burhān, pp. 350–352. In addition, they suffer from a lack of editorial rigour in every edition I
consulted. The second item in the list (“fa-lahū khayrun minhā”, Q 27:89, 28:84) does not have its bayān
provided. The third item is missing its first stage of ijmāl, i.e. verses which state that the Qurʾān was sent
down “without clarifying whether this occurred by day or night”, followed by those which specified
night (44:3), then the name of this night, 97:1. Instead, these two items run together in the printed
editions, incomprehensibly.
9 Al-Burhān, p. 353.
10Al-Burhān, p. 350. Zarkashī also quotes a ḥadīth which explains different forms of “response” which are
vouchsafed for supplications which fulfil certain conditions.
182
demand (2:55).11 Another example involves an apparent conflict between two effects
of God’s remembrance (dhikr) upon the believers: to create tranquillity in their hearts
(13:28) and to make their hearts tremble (8:2) – a further verse is said to juxtapose
these and resolve the tension, namely 39:23.12
A noteworthy aspect is the role – or absence – of context in some of the
examples. The clarification provided by context is sometimes overlooked for the sake
of arguing that this was provided by a separate verse. Zarkashī states that 43:17 –
“When one of them is brought the news of what he ascribes to the All-beneficent, his
face becomes darkened” – is clarified by 16:58, “When one of them is brought the
news of a female, his face becomes darkened”.13 However, this is unnecessary because
the preceding verse makes this explicitly clear: “Did He adopt daughters from what
He creates while He preferred you with sons?” (43:16).
The conclusion I draw from surveying the treatment of this category is that,
despite being listed by the likes of Muḥammad Ḥusayn al-Dhahabī and Ṣubḥī Ṣāliḥ as
one of the forms of intraquranic exegesis (see Chapter 1), bayān al-mujmal is in fact
too broad a concept to be thus subsumed. Since there are numerous forms of ijmāl, and
the concept is applied subjectively – indeed, many examples provided by the authors
involve modification of something that appears clear in itself – it would be more
fruitful to break this concept into its constituent elements. As described in Chapter 1,
a more detailed account of Quranic ijmāl and bayān is provided by Muḥammad al-
Amīn al-Shinqīṭī in the introduction to Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān. With further refinement and
organisation, the specific elements requiring clarification – such as homonymy, which
heads both Zarkashi’s and Shinqīṭī’s lists – may be identified and systematised along
with the ʿāmm and muṭlaq texts discussed below.
From an uṣūl al-fiqh perspective, the “ruling” (ḥukm) concerning any mujmal
text is that its bayān must be sought out (whether from the Qurʾān or externally) in
11Al-Burhān, p. 353. The unnamed scholar further states that “It is not stated in the Torah that [Moses]
requested to see [God] at any other time than when he had his people with him.” However, such is
found in Exodus 33.
12 Al-Burhān, p. 351.
13 Al-Burhān, p. 350. These translations are by Qara’i, emphasis added. Note the contrast here with
Zarkashī’s own point about context versus istiʾnās in the identification of ẓulm (in 6:82) with shirk (in 31:13)
– see 3.4.2 above.
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order to “act upon it”.14 This account focuses upon verses which contain practical
rulings (āyāt al-aḥkām), and can extend unproblematically to points of creed, in that
affirming beliefs is a kind of action. As for scenarios of ijmāl beyond these categories,
such as narratives or descriptions of natural phenomena, it should be said that the
exegete is required to seek out bayān for the purpose of understanding, rather than
action. This is to assume that the bayān will always be available: as mentioned in
Chapter 3, there is a debate among the legal theorists on this point. According to
Suyūṭī, “The most correct [opinion] is that [texts] upon which action is mandated may
not remain [unclear]; this does not apply to other [types of text].”15 The stipulation (by
Dhahabī et al) that the exegete must seek out relevant verses for clarification and
completeness is, essentially, a thematic approach; this is especially the case in
examples where the text does not appear problematic in itself. Rather, it is simply the
case that other verses (or ḥadīths, etc.) indicate that it should not be understood in its
apparent sense.16
There are a host of Arabic expressions which are taken to denote universality,20
and a universal meaning is also created by certain structures, such as a negated
indefinite word (as in 6:82, where, linguistically, all ẓulm is negated). Once these
linguistic expressions are identified as being universal in principle, they are divided
into three categories21: (a) that by which the universal meaning is, in fact, intended;
(b) that which is known – through context and reason – not to be intended literally, but
restricted by necessity; (c) those which are universal in themselves, but have been
restricted and particularised by another text through takhṣīṣ: our focus is solely on this
latter category (known as makhṣūṣ).22
The procedure with respect to ʿāmm texts and takhṣīṣ is articulated in the
various works of Quranic and juristic studies, and at its tersest in the form of an axiom
(qāʿida): “A universal expression is considered universal unless there is evidence to
particularise it.”23 This means that the default attitude to any wording which appears
to denote universality is that it does so in fact; there is no need to search out a
particularising locution (mukhaṣṣiṣ) – contrary to the situation when faced with a
mujmal text – and the exegete may not exclude referents from the expression without
justification.24 Writers of uṣūl al-fiqh, as noted above, are concerned with the
imperative to “act upon” the universal import of the locution. However, the axiom as
presented is broad enough to include other types of Quranic discourse.
As Suyūṭī outlines, there are numerous linguistic features which act as
mukhaṣṣiṣ and particularise the universal. Of these, some are connected to the original
locution, namely: exceptions, adjectives, conditions, limits and substitutions.
However, the relevant categories for TQQ are the unconnected particularisers within
20These include words made definite with the article denoting comprehensiveness (istighrāq), or those
which have a similar meaning through annexation (iḍāfa) to a definite genitive. There are auxiliary words
which denote universality, including conditionals, interrogatives and relative pronouns. This is in
addition to words coined as emphasis in this regard, e.g. “kulluhum, ajmaʿūn (all of them, all together)”.
See Wahbī, Al-Masāʾil al-Mushtaraka bayna ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān wa Uṣūl al-Fiqh wa Atharuhā fī l-Tafsīr, pp. 458–
469.
21 Wahbī, pp. 469–474.
22 For elaboration on the difference between the latter two, see Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 4/1414–1416. He
discusses the claim that there are hardly any genuine universals – he argues that this applies only to legal
rulings (see also Wahbī, p. 474). Suyūṭī also notes the opinion which holds the ʿāmm text to be non-literal
(majāzī) when it is subject to takhṣīṣ.
23 Sabt, Qawāʿid al-Tafsīr, 2/140.
24 See Wahbī, pp. 475–478 (including Quranic evidences for this axiom) and 538–540.
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the Qurʾān (while Suyūṭī further lists ḥadīth, ijmāʿ and qiyās).25 An example of such
takhṣīṣ is the universal statement concerning “divorced women” (al-muṭallaqāt) in
2:228, that they must “wait for three monthly periods” before remarrying. Whereas the
term encompasses all women upon whom divorce (ṭalāq) has been pronounced, two
other verses demonstrate that this ruling does not apply equally to all divorcées. First,
it excludes cases of divorce prior to consummation, in which no waiting period is
mandated (33:49). Second, pregnant women are to remain in waiting until giving birth
(65:4).26 As such, the original term “al-muṭallaqāt” in 2:228 should be interpreted as
“consummated, non-pregnant divorcées”. This manoeuvre is sometimes looked at
from the perspective of the original term being limited in scope (hence being made
more particular or specific), and at other times the focus is upon the exclusions being
made. The latter is illustrated by Suyūṭī’s second example: both “carrion and blood”
are prohibited by 5:3, but fish was excluded (khuṣṣa l-samak) by 5:96, and non-flowing
blood by 6:14527 – here, the word takhṣīṣ pertains to the item “specified as exception”.
The question of priority is important here. The procedure of takhṣīṣ grants the
particular (khāṣṣ) priority over the universal (ʿāmm). In cases where the universal was
revealed earlier, the khāṣṣ ruling replaces one which originally was – or appeared to
be – ʿāmm: this replacement occurs in the subset to which the khāṣṣ pertains. As noted
in the discussion on abrogation, the resemblance here to naskh led frequently to early
authorities using that term while intending takhṣīṣ.28 It is certainly conceivable that a
universal statement be revealed subsequent to a particular one – in such cases, to take
the universal at face value would amount to naskh, in that the universal overrides the
particular.
This question is related to another scenario, in which there are two rulings
which appear to contradict, one being universal and the other particular. According to
Fahd al-Wahbī in his recent work outlining areas of overlap between uṣūl al-fiqh and
ʿulūm al-Qurʾān, this is an issue overlooked within the latter genre despite its
25 Al-Itqān, 4/1417–1418.
26 Al-Itqān, 4/1418.
27 Al-Itqān, 4/1418. See below re: taqyīd, as 6:145 is an example of that. The point concerning fish is that
it is not such as can be slaughtered by knife, and thus would fall naturally under the category of carrion
(mayta).
28 See 3.2.2 for the quote from Shāṭibī.
186
importance.29 The majority of legal schools take the approach of considering both
verses operational, which can only be achieved by giving priority to the khāṣṣ, thereby
doing takhṣīṣ of the ʿāmm ruling. In this, chronology is irrelevant. The example Wahbī
gives is of the permission to marry Jewish and Christian women (Q 5:5), and the
prohibition of mushrik women (2:221): the former is taken to limit and qualify the
latter.30 The Ḥanafī school, on the other hand, proceeds from a stance that both the
ʿāmm and khāṣṣ are definitive (qaṭʿī) in import – as such, the conflict must be resolved
in light of chronology.31 A particularising locution which follows the universal one
immediately is considered takhṣīṣ, whereas any separation in time would require that
it be categorised as “partial abrogation” (naskh juzʾī).32 An example of the former is
the command in Q 2:185 for everyone who enters Ramaḍān to observe the fast,
followed immediately by the dispensation for people who are ill or travelling.33 As for
the latter, this is exemplified by the ḥadd penalty for accusing chaste women of
adultery without four witnesses (24:4), which conflicts with the verse permitting a
husband to bear witness by himself four times (24:6). Due to the existence of a sabab
report which has it that the latter was revealed separately in response to a particular
case which arose, the Ḥanafīs consider this to effect abrogation of a part of the original
verse, namely its application to husbands as accusers.34 A third possibility is that
chronology cannot be determined, in which case other methods are used to decide on
the preponderant ruling; if that is not possible, then neither of the verses (or evidences)
is acted upon with respect to the area of overlap between them.35
It is clear from the preceding discussion that there are underlying theoretical
considerations and debates between the jurisprudential schools, especially between the
Ḥanafīs and the other three Sunnī schools known as “the majority” (al-jumhūr). One
of the challenges of generalising the hermeneutical rules from uṣūl al-fiqh to the whole
of tafsīr – in addition to the inherent variety of Quranic literary genres beyond the
aḥkām verses – is that these rules were developed in the context of juristic debates that
encompassed a range of legal evidences, along with the diversity of inherited practices
and approaches of the earliest generations. Whereas the proper interpretation of the
Qurʾān and Sunna is, on a purely conceptual level, the source and justification for legal
opinions, the reality is that some interpretations – and even principles of interpretation
– are influenced by practical positions and used to justify them.36
Nevertheless, the basic concept of particularisation of universals is clearly an
important aspect of textual interplay which features in TQQ, and this applies outside
the context of juristic rulings. An example from Chapter 2 pertained to Q 6:20, which
contains two universals: “Those to whom We have given the Scripture” who recognise
the Prophet and/or Qurʾān; and that “they will not believe”. The first of these, as argued
by some of the exegetes, is particular to the knowledgeable ones among them, as
evidenced by 34:6. The second apparent universal is particular to the stubborn and
wicked among them, as evidenced by 5:83. The procedure of takhṣīṣ may, indeed, be
simpler outside the context of aḥkām.
In closing, I shall highlight two concepts to which takhṣīṣ has a relationship.
The first of these is naskh, as already mentioned. It remains to be said that they share
in the assumption of their absence: that is to say that any ʿāmm verse is assumed to be
universal in import unless a particulariser is identified; likewise, it is assumed to be
operative (muḥkam) unless abrogation is established. The other relationship is with
asbāb al-nuzūl, revelatory contexts. In the summary in Chapter 3 of Walī-Allāh
Dihlawī’s critical remarks on asbāb, it was noted that he considered those reports to
be indispensable whenever they are authentic and indicate that the apparent sense of
the verse is not intended, such as with takhṣīṣ.37 The core question is: if a universal
wording is revealed concerning a particular circumstance, does that circumstance
particularise the wording? This is the debate over ʿumūm al-lafẓ (universality of
locution) versus khuṣūṣ al-sabab (particularity of context). Those who argued for
36 See Jackson, ‘Fiction and Formalism: Toward a Functional Analysis of Uṣūl al-Fiqh’ in Weiss (ed.),
Studies in Islamic Legal Theory, p. 200.
37 Al-Fawz al-Kabīr, p. 56.
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particularism intended that the verse should be understood as applying to any situation
that matches – in all relevant aspects – with the original context of revelation: this
original scenario is known as ṣūrat al-sabab (its “form”). As such, any further
extension is based on analogy (qiyās). As Wahbī states, the majority position is that
the universality of the statement is maintained; the ṣūrat al-sabab is therefore no more
than an incontrovertible example of that to which the locution extends.38
38Al-Masāʾil al-Mushtaraka, pp. 516–522, including a citation from Ibn Taymiyya’s Muqaddima. This is
comparable to the authority of examples expressed by the Prophet (see 3.4.1 above).
39 Wahbī uses this to explain the fact that it contains less enquiries within works of uṣūl: much is implicit
from the treatment of ʿāmm and khāṣṣ (Al-Masāʾil al-Mushtaraka, p. 543).
40Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ, 2/159. A khāṣṣ locution is in contradistinction to the ʿāmm and hence not
universal. The khāṣṣ is then either muṭlaq or muqayyad.
41 Sabt, Qawāʿid, 2/165.
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Since the operation of equating two junctures is not self-evident but involves
some subtle considerations, there are varying positions on the matter among the juristic
schools. By default, two separate verses in which a similar expression occurs – one
with a restrictive clause, the other without – are to be considered individually. This
point was underlined by Muḥammad b. Aḥmad al-Sarakhsī (d. 483/1090), the Ḥanafite
jurist, with the following example:
Every [instruction] of fasting in the Qurʾān which God has not stipulated to be
continuous, a may be performed intermittently. However, what He has stipulated as
continuous may not be made intermittent… [An example of the former] is making up
missed [fasts of Ramaḍān], as God said “Fasting on other days” (Q 2:185): these may
be made up continuously or intermittently, as the [word “ayyām (days)”] is unqualified
by any description. Ibn ʿAbbās said: “Treat as vague (mubham) whatever God left
vague.”42
Concerning this specific ruling, the major Sunnī schools are in agreement. However,
some jurists are more cautious than others in applying the reductionist approach (i.e.
ḥaml al-muṭlaq ʿalā l-muqayyad), as we shall see in the examples which follow.
The taqyīd vs. iṭlāq may occur in a number of different scenarios. First, it may
either be in the ruling (ḥukm) itself, or in its obligating cause (sabab). In the latter case,
the Ḥanafīs are alone in considering such a qualifying clause inoperative.43 As for the
occurrence of such competing expressions pertaining to the ruling itself, there are four
possibilities: the texts match up in both ḥukm and sabab; they match up in ḥukm only,
or in sabab only; or they differ in both respects. The legitimacy of interpreting the
unqualified in terms of the qualified receives broad acceptance in the first of these
scenarios. An example is found in Sūrat al-Anʿām, in which verse 6:145 – which
specifically prohibits “flowing blood” (dam masfūḥ)44 is taken to clarify and restrict
the unqualified prohibition of “blood” in other verses, e.g. 5:3. Here, the ruling –
prohibition of consuming blood – is the same in the two places, and the cause – the
42 From Al-Mabsūṭ; quoted in Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ, 2/164. The quote from Ibn ʿAbbās, “Abhimū mā
abhama Llāhu” means to consider expressions open to various possibilities when the wording contains no
restrictions. See also Ibn Rushd, The Distinguished Jurist’s Primer, 1/350.
43 Ṣāliḥ, 2/171. There may be Quranic examples, but the sources I consulted used rulings based on
ḥadīths, such as whether zakāt al-fiṭr is to be paid on behalf of non-Muslim dependents.
44That is, blood which has been caused to flow out from the animal, contrary to that which remains in
the meat.
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harm associated with this consumption – is also shared: the consensus in this scenario
is to interpret reductively.45
Likewise there is consensus that, when there is a difference in ḥukm, this
manoeuvre is improper, even if the sabab is one and the same. For example, Q 5:6
stipulates washing (ghasl) the hands/arms (aydī) up to the elbows (ilā l-marāfiq) in
order to remove minor ritual impurity before prayer, in the ablution process known as
wuḍūʾ. The same verse then describes the procedure to remove ritual impurities when
water is unavailable, known as tayammum: i.e. to seek clean earth and wipe (masḥ) the
face and hands/arms. Here, the rulings of washing and wiping are different, even
though the cause – ritual purification – is one.46 Therefore, even though the same term
aydī (singular: yad) is mentioned twice, the qualification of “to the elbows” may only
be applied where it occurs and not transferred to the context of tayammum. However,
texts from the Sunna have been used by the various juristic schools to limit the
obligation of wiping to either the elbows or wrists.47 The illegitimacy of reductionism
is even more pronounced if both sabab and ḥukm differ: for example, this ruling of
washing the yad up to the elbow has no bearing upon the ruling to “cut the yad” of the
thief in 5:38. However, that is limited to the below the wrist based on evidences from
the Sunna.48
As for the scenario of two texts sharing in ḥukm only, this is the greatest point
of divergence between the jurists. A common example of this is the question of freeing
a slave as expiation for the pseudo-divorce practice known as ẓihār: is it necessary for
this to be a Muslim slave? The verse of ẓihār (58:3) stipulates “freeing a slave
[literally: a neck] (taḥrīr raqaba)” without any qualification, whereas the expiation in
the case of unintentional killing (qatl khaṭaʾ) includes “freeing a believing slave
(raqaba muʾmina)” (4:92). Does the latter imply anything for the former? The Ḥanafīs
argue that each should be treated as a distinct ruling, because they pertain to different
causes, namely ẓihār and unintentional killing. Since there is no conflict between the
45 Ṣāliḥ, 2/175–176.
46 Ṣāliḥ, 2/179–180. Cf. Wahbī, who attributes the relevant uṣūlī position to “most” rather than all
scholars (Al-Masāʾil al-Mushtaraka, p. 551).
47 Ṣāliḥ, 2/176–177.
48 Ṣāliḥ, 2/178–179.
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two rulings, each can be applied independently: a believer is required in the latter, but
not in the former.49 The second position belongs to many among the Shāfiʿīs, namely:
to apply the restricting clause to both, as though it was only left out at one juncture
because it is self-evident, or due to the fact it is explicit at the other juncture.50 It is
interesting to note the appeal of these scholars to what I have described in Chapter 3
as the Principles of Unity and Consistency, saying that the Qurʾān is “as though a
single word (ka-l-kalima al-wāḥida)”. As Muḥammad Adīb al-Ṣāliḥ points out, citing
an earlier objection by the Shāfiʿite scholar ʿAbd al-Malik al-Juwaynī (d. 478/1085),
this argument fails to acknowledge the diverse rulings and purposes which the Qurʾān
addresses in its various passages and contexts.51 A third, related, position – held by
some from the Shāfiʿī and Mālikī schools – is to extend the import of the qualifying
clause through the process of analogy (qiyās) rather than directly through the
expressions (lafẓ). For example, in this case, the two sins share in requiring expiation
of the “optimum” form, and the Sharīʿa has placed particular virtue in freeing believers
from slavery.52
A final case ought to be mentioned: when an unqualified expression has two
potential qualifiers (qayd) from elsewhere in the Qurʾān. In Khālid al-Sabt’s
collection, the relevant axiom is expressed as so: “If there are two competing qualifiers
for an unqualified expression and it is possible for one to be preponderant over the
other, the expression must be qualified using the preponderant one.53 An example of
this situation is described by Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī in Al-Maḥṣūl54, to the effect that,
according to Q 2:185, making up missed fasts of Ramaḍān is to be on “other days
(ayyām ukhar)” – continuity or otherwise is not stipulated. While there is another verse
49Ṣāliḥ, 2/184–185. See also 2/186–188 concerning the relevance of contrary implication (mafhūm al-
mukhālafa) to this debate and the position of the Ḥanafīs.
50 Ṣāliḥ, 2/185.
51 Ṣāliḥ, 2/186. This is an example of an anti-reductionist statement.
52 Ṣāliḥ, 2/189.
53 Qawāʿid al-Tafsīr, 2/168.
54 I have mentioned this detail to draw attention to the possibility that the very authors of tafsīr and ʿulūm
al-Qurʾān works may have reserved pertinent discussions and details for their uṣūl al-fiqh works. This may
be seen also in Fahd al-Wahbī’s section on “Issues Covered Only by Uṣūl Scholars Concerning Muṭlaq
and Muqayyad” (Al-Masāʾil al-Mushtaraka, pp. 471–473), in which he quotes a list of conditions from
Zarkashī’s Al-Baḥr al-Muḥīṭ. This implies that the same issues were not included in his Quranic
encyclopaedia Al-Burhān. For the conditions, see also Ṣāliḥ, 2/191.
192
which includes a continuity clause (58:4, in the context of ẓihār), yet another passage
mandates separating fasts (2:196, for the pilgrim who fails to offer sacrifice). Referring
to the above-noted juristic distinction between equating through lafẓ or qiyās, Rāzī
states: “Those who claim that the muṭlaq may be qualified by the muqayyad through
the expressions themselves, must leave the muṭlaq here unqualified: this is because
neither [of the latter two verses] is worthier than the other of serving as qualification.
As for whoever does so by means of analogy, they would decide which is more suitable
as a basis for analogy.”55
4.1.4 – Conclusions
The purpose of the above outline of several key intertextual (or intratextual)
operations discussed primarily in uṣūl al-fiqh was to illustrate the level of detail
characterising those discussions. They are indisputably part of Quranic hermeneutics,
but the extent to which fiqh-centric conclusions can be generalised to other discourses
and genres within the Qurʾān remains an open question. Among those detailed uṣūl al-
fiqh discussions are topics which have not been covered in the ʿulūm al-Qurʾān
literature, although the influence of the former upon the latter was noted in the
Introduction and Chapter 1. The process of incorporating the jurists’ insights into a
broader Quranic hermeneutics must be selective and draw from more examples outside
the sub-corpus known as āyāt al-aḥkām. In so doing, the insights of the exegetes must
be given prominence.56
In terms of content, the above discussions represent a sub-concern within what
I have classed below as thematic, comparative and contextual methods: once texts are
juxtaposed for analysis, there are a number of procedures which may be applied,
including modification through takhṣīṣ or taqyīd. As noted above, the topic of bayān
al-mujmal is broad and contains a number of elements which could be given more
detailed treatment. Eventually, I propose that the juristic methods be subsumed within
the other three: they are privileged here in recognition of historical realities.
55 Ṣāliḥ, 2/190. See Rāzī’s quote in Al-Maḥṣūl fī ʿIlm Uṣūl al-Fiqh, 3/147.
56 My contention is that scholars steeped in the specialities of Quranic interpretation – beyond its utility
for juristic reasoning – may reasonably be expected to have unique insights concerning textual
interactions. At the same time, the historical reality is that most mufassirūn were also fuqahāʾ, even when
their exegetical contributions came to be their most influential.
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The role of theories and principles was noticeable at various junctures above.
The domain of uṣūl al-fiqh is also rich in this regard, especially as it is linked to core
questions in theology, philosophy and linguistics. It is also clear that many issues are
subject to debate, at times with clear divergence between the schools (including
between the mutakallimūn majority and the Ḥanafī fuqahāʾ, according to the famous
dichotomy). What will happen if these debates and divergent opinions are transferred
to the pages of uṣūl al-tafsīr works? At present, there is no developed notion of
“schools” of exegesis or hermeneutics in Islamic thought, each with its own principles
and methods. This could change as the field develops.57
Finally, the note of caution concerning reductionist approaches sounded by
some scholars (in the context of taqyīd) is pivotal to performing TQQ soundly. The
point expressed there in terms of sabab is, more broadly, the question of relevance and
relations between verses of the Qurʾān. Mere resemblance and superficial similarities
are insufficient to establish that one should be interpreted in light of the other. We shall
return to this point in some of what follows.
57Cf. Abdul-Raof, Theological Approaches to Qur'anic Exegesis, who outlines what he terms the “traditional”,
“hypothetical opinion” and “linguistic” schools. In reality, these are aspects and methods of
interpretation which are employed – to various degrees – by all the exegetes. The notion of “schools” I
am describing here pertains to diverging opinions about how to approach certain questions.
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of the parallel verse, followed by that of Quranic “rules and norms”, and then modern
developments in thematic tafsīr methodology and study.
58 Although based on differing organising principles, word indexes (such as Al-Muʿjam al-Mufahras li-Alfāẓ
al-Qurʾān al-Karīm, which Muḥammad Fuʾād ʿAbd al-Bāqī based on the work of Gustav Flügel) and
subject indexes (such as Muʿjam al-Aʿlām wa-l-Mawḍūʿāt fī l-Qurʾān by ʿAbd al-Ṣabūr Marzūq) overlap in
some ways with the idea of a cross-reference concordance.
59 See Brown, Hadith, p. 92. Similar can be said for supporting the authenticity of certain readings in the
field of tawjīh al-qirāʾāt, discussed under 4.3.3.
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In light of this variety of purposes, we can revisit the question of relevance raised
above. This is a point on which the exegete needs to satisfy himself or herself, and
possibly justify to the reader: what makes this verse “parallel” to the one under
examination, and what is achieved through citing it? There are different types of
parallel, and the matter is not limited to repetition of key words and phrases. The two
verses may express similar meanings with differing vocabulary and/or sentence
structure. Subtler still is for an exegete to consider a verse parallel in one particular
respect, such as a point of grammar or an implication: examples of this abound in the
case study of Al-Anʿām. It follows that exegetes may identify different parallels
depending on their interpretation of the verse at hand, and that they may disagree with
citations advanced by others. An example which I did not include in Chapter 2 pertains
to the term al-fawāḥish in 6:151 (literally: “abominable acts”). This is often taken to
60Farāhī states that selecting a meaning which appears elsewhere in the Qurʾān is “more cautious” in
order to avoid following personal whims – see Rasāʾil, pp. 264 and 268 (the latter in Al-Takmīl).
61 See Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 348, where he describes this as istiʾnās, which is similar to istishhād.
62In Chapter 2, I have distinguished between parallels and evidentiary citations. When the wording of
the two verses is similar (but differs in a crucial sense such as the existence of a qayd, qualifying clause)
then it belongs to both categories.
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denote extra-marital sex (zinā) specifically, due to this same description (in the
singular, fāḥisha) being applied to zinā in 17:32.63 However, the modern exegete Ibn
ʿĀshūr – whose note of caution regarding reductionism was quoted in Chapter 1 –
comments on this: “It is not necessarily the case that the meaning intended by similar
verses is one and the same.”64 The problem of reductionism vs. pluralism is examined
further in the next section.
I have described seeking parallels as a first stage of thematic (and comparative)
analysis; it should also be noted that it is only a part of the broader task of “gathering
verses upon a theme” as advocated by Dhahabī and others (see Chapter 1). Relevance
is not only similarity, but also contrast: intratexts which appear to contradict are
thematically linked to the same extent, and ought to be taken into account when
explaining any verse. Although it is not feasible to consider in much detail here the
process of locating parallels (and other relevant cross-references), it should be noted
that technology allows for more possibilities than were available to Ibn Kathīr, or even
to Rudi Paret, author of Der Koran: Kommentar und Konkordanz (first published
1971). Although modern search and index technology can summon parallel words and
phrases in an instant, there remains a role for scholarly refinement and enhancement
of those results.65 A careful methodology could incorporate the insights of exegetes,
especially TQQ-focused ones, as presented in the Appendix of this thesis in tabular
form. A well-designed interface – whether in print or otherwise – would prove valuable
to exegetes or to researchers exploring the Qurʾān thematically.66
63Of the Group studied in Chapter 2, only Iṣlāḥī made this link explicitly. Ibn Kathīr cited parallels in
6:120 and 7:33.
64 Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 8/160.
65I have corresponded with a Canadian researcher concerning his corpus linguistics project which maps
relationships between verses based on their collocation in a vast number and range of writings, many
outside the genre of tafsīr. My brief engagement with his results (including on Sūrat al-Anʿām) suggests
that the lists generated appear random and further refinement is necessary for it to prove useful.
66A potential advance is being made with the “Cross-References Project” by the International Qur’anic
Studies Association, though I was unable to ascertain its current status. According to the IQSA website,
this presentation prioritises links in meaning and theme rather than simply words. It is based on similar
reference works on the Bible (https://iqsaweb.wordpress.com/2012/11/19/qcrtqq – accessed
1/9/2017).
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67 Ibn Rajab, Fatḥ al-Bārī, 1/144. I have not checked whether this claim of majority holds true.
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once.68 The meaning of words must naturally be derived from the Arabs’ usage at time
of revelation. However, both the immediate co-text and broader Quranic usage serve
as guides to the meaning of a particular usage, and to restrict the polyvalency of
words.69
I shall illustrate the kulliyyāt genre with some selections from Al-Itqān70, while
noting that Suyūṭī did not dedicate a chapter to this topic. In Chapter 39, he attributes
a report to Prophet Muḥammad to the effect that “Every occurrence in the Qur’ān of
qunūt means obedience (ṭāʿa).”71 Among the early reports, a good number are
attributed to Ibn ʿAbbās via various chains:72
Ibn Abī Ḥātim reported via ‘Ikrima that Ibn ‘Abbās said: “Every case of alīm means
painful (mūjiʿ).” He also reported via ‘Alī b. Abī Ṭalḥa that Ibn ‘Abbās said: “Every
occurrence of qutila means ‘cursed be’ (luʿina).” Via Ḍaḥḥāk, he reported that Ibn
‘Abbās said: “Every rijz in the book of God means ‘punishment’.” Firyābī said: “Qays
narrated to us from ‘Ammār al-Duhnī, from Sa‘īd b. Jubayr, that Ibn ‘Abbās said:
‘Every tasbīḥ in the Qur’ān is prayer (ṣalāt), and every sulṭān in the Qur’ān is a proof
(ḥujja).’” Ibn Abī Ḥātim reported via ‘Ikrima that Ibn ‘Abbās said: “Every occurrence
in the Qur’ān of dīn means ‘accounting’ (ḥisāb).”73
68 Shawkat Toorawa has written several articles on hapax legomena, singularly-occurring words in the
Qurʾān. In his chapter in Reynolds (ed.), New Perspectives on the Qurʾān, p. 245, he cites notes of caution
via biblical scholars Metzger and Ehrman concerning the assumption that any anomalous usage must
be an error: “Before resorting to conjectural emendation, therefore, the critic must be so thoroughly
acquainted with the style and thought of the author that a certain anomaly must be judged to be foreign
to the author’s intention”. Applying this thought to the study of kulliyyāt vs. wujūh, it suggests that there
are levels of familiarity with the spirit of the text: while reductionism is the more obvious approach at
an early or middle stage, the deepest familiarity entails recognition of those instances when the author
contravenes his own norms to make a point.
69 The point about co-text is best illustrated by the Farāhian approach, but the point has long been
recognised. See Chapter 1 for comments by Zarkashī referring to Rāghib and his Mufradāt (Al-Burhān,
p. 343). The broader appeal to Quranic usage is demonstrated well by Ṭabāṭabāʾī and Bint al-Shāṭiʾ.
70 The relevant material appears in Chapters 39 (on wujūh and naẓāʾir), 40 and 42. See my forthcoming
translation.
71 Al-Itqān, 3/994. While Suyūṭī described this report as possessing “a good chain which Ibn Ḥibbān
considered sound”, various authorities including Ibn Kathīr (Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 1/231) declared
it unreliable. See also the list from Ibn Fāris below which cites two Quranic exceptions.
72See Berg, ‘Lexicological Hadith and the ‘School’ of Ibn ʿAbbās’ in Burge (ed.), The Meaning of the Word,
pp. 81–83, re: the tendency to ascribe copious material to Ibn ʿAbbās.
73 Al-Itqān, 3/994–995.
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The purpose of such rules is, in the first place, to clarify a word which is otherwise
classed as difficult or uncommon (gharīb)74, and the “every” aspect sometimes appears
unnecessary. A reader of the Qurʾān who accepts the rule would perhaps be expected
to cast other possible interpretations from his mind. However, it is clear that some
examples cannot be taken at face value, such as the final one which overlooks the use
of dīn as religion. Another problem is the conflict between some alleged rules and the
variety of qirāʾāt, as demonstrated by the following examples of contrasting terms:
From Abū Bakr b. ‘Ayyāsh: “Every kisfan means ‘punishment’, while kisafan means
‘chunks of cloud’.” And from ‘Ikrima: “The barrier made by God is called sudd,
whereas that made by people is sadd.”75
In each of the instances of sadd/sudd, and all but 52:44 from among the occurrences
of kisf/kisaf, both vocalisations are attested among the canonical ‘Ten Readings’.
Therefore, these rules either pertain to specific readings, or they must be taken as
purely linguistic claims. If the latter, it is seen that the reciter-imāms did not accept
these ‘rules’ universally or apply them consistently in their selections (ikhtiyār).76
While his overall approach was simply to reproduce these claims, Suyūṭī made the
occasional comment on an inaccuracy. After quoting Sufyān b. ‘Uyayna as saying that
“God only used the word maṭar [literally: rain] in the Qur’ān for punishment, whereas
the Arabs call [the rain] ghayth,” he remarks: “The exception to this is 4:102, where
rainwater is definitely intended.”77
In these presentations, the existence of exceptions is not seen as a challenge.
Rather, such are sometimes presented directly as part of the account, and drawing
74See Al-Itqān Chapter 36, which is mostly based upon narrations from Ibn ʿAbbās, including the
“Enquiries of Ibn al-Azraq”.
75 Al-Itqān, 3/998.
76 I checked the four occurrences of sadd/sudd against the recitations, and found that four of the Ten
Reciters use sudd throughout (Nāfiʿ and Abū Jaʿfar of Medina, Ibn ʿĀmir of the Levant, and Yaʿqūb of
Baṣra). The Kūfan recitation of ʿĀṣim is divided between the constant sudd of Shuʿba and sadd of Ḥafṣ
(i.e. the most widespread reading today). The two occurrences in al-Kahf (Q 18:93, 94) refer,
respectively, to mountains (God-made) and a barrier which Dhū l-Qarnayn was asked to construct. The
other three Kūfans (Kisāʾī, Ḥamza and Khalaf) shift from sudd to sadd, which is consistent with the
narration from ʿIkrima. However, they recite the two occurrences in Q 36:9 as sudd, despite the maker
being God (albeit not mountains). The remaining two Readers (Ibn Kathīr of Mecca and Abū ʿAmr of
Baṣra) recite sadd in al-Kahf and sudd in Yā-Sīn, which is difficult to resolve semantically.
77Al-Itqān, 3/1000. For brevity, I have elided the Quranic citation and replaced it with a reference. The
same applies to what follows from Ibn Fāris.
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attention to the ‘anomaly’ may well be the reason for the rule to be formulated and
recorded. The following selection from a list in Al-Itqān – sourced from Ibn Fāris’ Al-
Afrād78 – is indicative of this:
- Every mention in the Qur’ān of asaf means ‘sadness’, except 43:55 where it means
‘anger’.
- Every mention of burūj means ‘heavenly bodies’ (kawākib), except 4:78 where it
means ‘lofty fortresses’.
- Every mention of barr and baḥr means ‘dry land’ and ‘water’ respectively, except
30:41 where they refer to ‘empty land’ (barriyya) and ‘settlements’ (ʿumrān).
- Every mention of baʿl means ‘husband’, except 37:125 where it is the name of an idol.
- Every occurrence of jithiyyan means ‘all together’ (jamīʿan), except 45:28 where
jāthiya means ‘kneeling upon their knees’.79
- Every mention of rijz means ‘punishment’, except 74:580 where it refers to idols.
- Every mention of rajm means to ‘kill (by stoning)’, except 19:46 where it means ‘to
abuse verbally’ [and 18:22 where it means ‘speculation’ (ẓann)].81
- Every mention of zakāt refers to ‘wealth’, except 19:13 where it means ‘purity’
(ṭuhra).82
- Every mention of zaygh means to ‘incline’ (mayl), except 33:10 where it means ‘to
stare’ (shakhaṣat).
- Every occurrence of sakhira means ‘mocking’, except 43:32 where [sukhriyyan] is
derived from taskhīr, meaning to be subjected to use.
- Every mention of aṣḥāb al-nār refers to ‘the denizens of hell’, except 74:31 where it
means its ‘wardens’ (khazana).
- Every mention of qunūt means ‘obedience’ (ṭā‘a), except 2:116/30:26 where it means
‘to acknowledge’ (muqirrūn).
78 The title indicates that the exception was the purpose, something like “hapax”. See Haykal, ‘Al-
Afrād (Word Choice) in Uri Rubin’s Hebrew Translation of the Qur’an’ (Arabic paper).
79There are only two occurrences of jithiyyan, both in Sūrat Maryam (19:68, 72), which are also taken
by exegetes to denote kneeling.
80 According to most of the Readers. However, Ḥafṣ, Abū Jaʿfar and Yaʿqūb have it as rujz.
81This second exception reveals that the author has quoted this section from Al-Burhān (pp. 74–77)
without proper attribution, as it is in fact Zarkashī who appended it to the exception provided by Ibn
Fāris. See Ḥaydar, ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān bayna l-Burhān wa-l-Itqān, p. 147.
82The exception extends to 18:81 and possibly others, as argued by Qarnī, Kulliyyāt al-Alfāẓ fī l-Tafsīr,
2/679 (and preceding discussion).
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- Every mention of nikāḥ means ‘marriage’ (tazawwuj), except 4:6 where it refers to the
‘age of puberty’ (ḥulum).
- Every mention of yaʾs means ‘despair’ (qunūṭ), except 3:2 where it means
‘knowledge’.
It is clear that the kulliyyāt genre, subject to complete istiqrāʾ (i.e. accounting for any
exceptions) and verified with reference to works of tafsīr as well as qirāʾāt, is of use
to the exegete in summarising the Quranic usage of a word which may be understood
differently in other texts.
83Al-Itqān, 3/976. This definition (from Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 73) compares the concept of naẓā’ir to a
word that has a single definition but applies equally to multiple members of its set, such as “animal” to
humans, birds and horses. When such a word is used throughout the Qur’ān, it has only one meaning
but may refer to different member(s) in each case. See El-Awa, Al-Wujūh wa-l-Naẓāʾir, pp. 44–47.
84Al-Itqān, 3/976–977. The modern scholar Aḥmad Ḥasan Faraḥāt proposes that this thought be
completed by saying “…and gives preference to one of these facets.” While conceiving of many possible
meanings is a sign of hermeneutical prowess (or horizontal knowledge), doing tarjīḥ of one demonstrates
depth of knowledge (see Būzī, Mafhūm al-Taqwā, p. 46 for this citation and explanation). However, it is
not clear that the original saying (more authentically attributed to the Companion, Abū l-Dardāʾ)
pertains to words having multiple meanings as spread across the corpus, as it may refer to layers of
meaning within a single verse, as Suyūṭī notes. See also: Kermani, God is Beautiful, pp. 105–106.
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word al-hudā.85 Since a conventional translation for this is “guidance”, I have used
that in the translation of the example verses wherever possible. However, the
polysemic approach entails that one should read the specific meaning in place of each
occurrence of “guidance”, e.g. “Grant us steadfastness” and “Those are upon clarity”.
a. Steadfastness (thabāt): ‘Guide us on the straight path’ (1:6).
b. Clarity (bayān): ‘Those are upon guidance from their Lord’ (2:5).
c. Religion (dīn): ‘The [true] guidance is the guidance of God’ (3:73).
d. Faith (īmān): ‘And those who have followed guidance, God increases them in
guidance’ (19:76).
e. Invitation (duʿāʾ): ‘And to every people, a guide’ (13:7); ‘And We made them
leaders, guiding by Our command’ (21:73).
f. Messengers and scriptures: ‘So if there should come to you, from Me, guidance…’
(2:38).
g. Awareness (maʿrifa): ‘And by the stars they derive guidance’ (16:16).
h. The Prophet: ‘Verily those who conceal what We have sent down of clear signs
and the guidance…’ (2:159).
i. The Qur’ān: ‘And there has already come to them, from their Lord, the guidance’
(53:23).
j. The Torah: ‘And We did indeed give Moses the guidance’ (40:53).
k. To recite the istirjāʿ [formula]86: ‘And those are the guided’ (2:157).
l. Proof (ḥujja): ‘And God does not guide the wrongdoing people’ (2:258) coming
after ‘Have you not seen the one who disputed (ḥājja) with Abraham’, i.e. He does
not guide them to a proof.
m. Monotheism (tawḥīd): ‘And they say: If we were to follow the guidance with
you…’ (28:57).
n. Example (sunna): ‘So follow their guidance’ (6:90); ‘And we follow guidance
upon their footsteps’ (43:22).
o. Reform (iṣlāḥ): ‘And that God does not guide the plot of the traitors’ (12:52).
p. Inspiration (ilhām): ‘He Who gave everything its creation, then guided’ (20:50),
i.e. inspired it with its way of living.
85Al-Itqān, 3/978. See also Abdussalam, Concordance of Qurʾānic Polysemy, p. 252: this work demonstrates
some of the challenges facing a translator in this connection.
86That is, to utter the formula mentioned in the preceding verse: “To God we belong and to Him we
shall return (rājiʿūn)”. The name derives from the last word in that verse.
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87 I did not translate this verse with a derivative of ‘guidance’ because it is unclear how it would be
derived from this root. It is generally considered to come from hāʾ-wāw-dāl. See Farāhī, Mufradāt al-
Qurʾān, p. 324 concerning this root and its denotations of ‘returning/repenting’ as well as ‘Jewishness’.
Nevertheless, Tirmidhī includes it in his reductive account of derivatives of hudā (Taḥṣīl Naẓāʾir al-Qurʾān,
p. 20).
88 The role of siyāq in this genre was detailed by Salwa El-Awa in her hermeneutical study Al-Wujūh wa-
l-Naẓāʾir fī l-Qurʾān al-Karīm (pp. 62–78).
89 The strongest claim of diversity of meaning occurs in the category of words known as aḍdād, auto-
antonyms. See Munajjid, Al-Taḍādd, pp. 167–174 in which the author argues that certain meanings were
advanced for the word ẓann (assumption) for theological reasons linked to its occurrence in the Qurʾān,
but that it need not be interpreted as equivalent to yaqīn (certainty) in any instance. See also El-Awa’s
detailed study of ẓann in its Quranic contexts (Al-Wujūh wa-l-Naẓāʾir, pp. 95–127); this is followed by
examination of the semantic fields of related words rajāʾ and khawf, which could aid the kind of study
discussed under Comparative Methods below.
90 Taḥṣīl Naẓāʾir al-Qurʾān, pp. 19–24. This was apparently a response to Muqātil’s work. See also the
introduction to Rāghib’s tafsīr, in which he criticises the frequent conflation of genuine wujūh (he uses
the term naẓāʾir) with cases in which a broad word is used in several of its narrower senses (Muqaddimat
Jāmiʿ al-Tafāsīr, p. 61). The same trend in Tirmidhī’s work is present in dictionaries which specialise in
root meanings and derivations, particularly Ibn Fāris’ Muʿjam Maqāyīs al-Lugha and the recent
publication by Muḥammad Ḥasan Jabal, Al-Muʿjam al-Ishtiqāqī al-Muʾaṣṣal.
91Although some exegetes may have noted this opinion, the general approach concerning 2:157 is to
describe various senses in which such people could be described as “guided”; not that hudā here has the
meaning of istirjāʿ. See for example Rāzī, Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, 2/450.
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will be affected by the predilections and theoretical commitments of the exegete: some
prioritising the immediate context, coherence and semantic flow; others being
persuaded by the frequency of a meaning and usage which amounts to a Quranic norm.
Both approaches or emphases rely upon the flexibility of such words as kitāb (see
Chapter 2) which has literal denotations as well as numerous metaphorical usages.92
Neither would be excused for overlooking the other dimension of the question, such
as to ignore co-text or other occurrences of the word within the scripture.93
92 The same question faces a translator: if a word with similar flexibility is available in the target language
– say, for example, “book” – then that word may be applied to all the various contexts; otherwise,
alternatives are required in at least some. See Abdel Haleem, ‘The Role of Context in Interpreting and
Translating the Qur’an’, pp. 54–55.
93An example of the latter would be to interpret the nushūz on the part of the wife, in Q 3:34, without
consideration of the same word as used in 4:128 on the part of the husband. See Hidayatullah, Feminist
Edges of the Qur’an, p. 104.
94I am referring here to Qurʾān-wide studies of concepts and topics. The term al-tafsīr al-mawḍūʿī is also
used frequently to describe thematic studies of sūras individually, as in Muḥammad al-Ghazālī’s Naḥwa
Tafsīr Mawḍūʿī li-Suwar al-Qurʾān al-Karīm. An unrelated meaning of the word mawḍūʿī is “objective”.
95Further examples: polysemy (wujūh wa naẓā’ir), metaphors (majāz), abrogation (nāsikh wa mansūkh),
uncommon/difficult passages (gharīb/mushkil), oaths (aqsām), parables (amthāl). See 3.4.4 above.
96Examples in the genre are Aḥkām al-Qurʾān by Abū Bakr al-Rāzī al-Jaṣṣāṣ (d. 370/981), a Ḥanafite
authority, and works by the same title by the Shāfiʿite al-Kiyā al-Harrāsī (d. 504/1010) the Mālikite Abū
Bakr Ibn al-ʿArabī (d. 543/1148). See Dhahabī, Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 2/385–400.
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97 The genre of qaṣaṣ (verbal noun meaning “narrative content”; alternatively qiṣaṣ, “stories”) is both
thematic and comparative, as will become clearer in the next section. Some important works deal
particularly with the Prophets, such as the publication Qiṣaṣ al-Anbiyāʾ, extracted from Ibn Kathīr’s
history Al-Bidāya wa-l-Nihāya. See for issues surrounding this and the broader genre, and its relationship
to the Qurʾān and exegesis: Michael Pregill et al, ‘Qiṣaṣ al-Anbiyāʾ as Genre and Discourse’ in Mizan
Journal 2, 1 (2017) – accessed online 1/9/2017.
98For example, whether he was already fully immersed in monotheism when he said to his people
concerning certain heavenly bodies, “This is my Lord”.
99This name is short for Muʾassasat al-Buḥūth wa-l-Dirāsāt al-ʿIlmiyya; in my introduction, I mentioned
the significance of this Moroccan centre, along with Markaz Tafsīr in Saudi Arabia, in current Quranic
research. They have a broader interest in “methodology (manhaj) studies”.
100 For example, Muḥammad ʿAbd-Allāh Drāz is credited with being a pioneer of sūra studies, with his
thematic overview of al-Baqara (see The Qur’an: An Eternal Challenge, p. 137 ff.) – this is relevant to the
study of coherence and structure (4.4.3 below). More relevant to our present discussion is his study of
ethical content in the Qur’an, originally written in French, and translated to Arabic as Dustūr al-Akhlāq
fī l-Qurʾān and to English as The Moral World of the Qur’an.
101One of its retired professors, ʿAbd al-Sattār Fatḥ-Allāh Saʿīd, expressed his hope for an encyclopaedia
of Quranic topics to be created (see Muḥāḍarāt fī l-Tafsīr al-Mawḍūʿī, p. 16). Something of this nature is
being achieved (in English) through the Integrated Encyclopedia of the Qurʾān (IEQ), an ongoing
project of the Center for Islamic Sciences, Canada.
102The project aims at reforming Islamic thought and assumes that religious concepts are best
understood when their scriptural usage is studied holistically (see Būzī, Mafhūm al-Taqwā, p. 58). Similar
motivations underpinned the “Quranic Methodology” project of the International Institute of Islamic
Thought, represented most clearly by Ṭahā al-ʿAlwāni’s book Maʿālim fī l-Manhaj al-Qurʾānī.
206
103Originally a doctoral thesis supervised by Būshīkhī, its full title is: Mafhūm al-Taqwā fī l-Qurʾān wa-l-
Ḥadīth, so it extends beyond the Quranic corpus. Both aspects under study here are reflected in the
book’s sub-heading: Dirāsa muṣṭalaḥiyya wa tafsīr mawḍūʿī.
104 Būzī, pp. 22–35, also 35–52. He does not include Orientalist contributions to analysing Quranic
terms. Of particular significance are the works of Toshihiko Izutsu, God and Man in the Qur’an and Ethico-
Religious Concepts in the Qur’an.
105 The “pillars” are summarised in Būzī, pp. 61–69. Most of the supplementary points here are from
Saʿīd, Al-Madkhal ilā l-Tafsīr al-Mawḍū‘ī, pp. 60–70. Regarding topic selection, Saʿīd insists that this be
native to the Qurʾān and not imposed upon it; he mentions one study concerning “the nuclear bomb in
the Qurʾān”! If a number of related terms are to be examined, the broadest should be placed in the title
of the study.
106The minimum is to divide them into Meccan and Medinan. There is surprisingly little emphasis on
chronology in the sources I consulted, compared to the diachronic approach of Neuwirth and others.
107The researcher should not take dictionary definitions for granted, as the very purpose of thematic
study is to determine meanings in and through the Qurʾān.
108 I.e. specific to the place, like Mir’s “atomistic” or Hassan Hanafi’s “longitudinal” (‘Method of
Thematic Interpretation of the Qurʾan’ in Wild (ed.), The Qurʾan as Text, p. 195). Although some writers
like Saʿīd consider thematic exegesis a new frontier requiring attention in the modern age, they
emphasise the integral nature of traditional tafsīr to this endeavour.
207
Taymiyya’s recommendation of TQQ, and the critique by “modernist” scholars including Fazlur
Rahman of “atomistic” approaches. This provided an epistemic starting point for feminist exegetes such
208
as Asma Barlas and Amina Wadud; the latter describes this approach as “hermeneutics of tawḥīd (unity)”
(ibid, pp. 88–89).
114 Hidayatullah, p. 93.
115I am unsure whether this term is invoked by feminist exegetes. Concerning another classical concept,
namely naskh, Hidayatullah describes its relationship and relevance to the “trajectory argument” (Feminist
Edges, pp. 97–98). Although its proponents describe their aim as preserving the unity and integrity of the
scripture, this argument and strategy goes beyond intratextual analysis to what Hidayatullah describes
as “reading the Qur’an ‘beyond’ the Qur’an” (ibid, p. 99).
116 A recent publication by Ramon Harvey, The Qur’an and the Just Society, straddles a line between these
approaches: it takes its cue from tafsīr mawḍūʿī (Introduction, p. 5) but describes itself as “a thematic
reading of the Qur’anic blueprint for the just society” (ibid, p. 2). His introductory chapters include one
on hermeneutics, which describes his process of “intra-textual analysis” (which entails primary
comparison) followed by four modes of study. Two are “semi-internal”, namely syntax-pragmatics and
semantics, while the others are “external”: textual structure and socio-historical context (ibid, pp. 44–
45). The author explains that the latter two represent synchronic and diachronic modes of engagement
with the text, respectively (ibid, p. 44). The purpose of this process is defined as “extracting ḥikmas” i.e.
divine wisdoms behind rulings (ibid, p. 45). This could certainly be considered beyond the purpose of
tafsīr, although Harvey places his project in the third of Abdullah Saeed’s “four-stage model” of exegesis
(ibid, p. 3, citing Saeed, Interpreting the Qurʾān, pp. 150–152).
117 Quotes from Hidayatullah, p. 108.
118See Būshīkhī’s paper: ‘Naḥwa Muʿjam Tārīkhī li-l-Muṣṭalaḥāt al-Qurʾāniyya al-Muʿarrafa’. As I understand,
this project remains in its early stages. The paper contains an interesting case study of the term taghyīr
(change), in which it can be observed that exegetes generally equated the implications of Q 8:53 and
13:11 (i.e. the people’s change towards ingratitude and sin results in the removal and change of divine
favours), even though the latter verse is potentially broader (see pp. 382–390).
119For an example of traditionalist responses to feminist readings, see Raysūni, Al-Naṣṣ al-Qurʾānī min
Tahāfut al-Qirāʾāt ilā Ufuq al-Tadabbur, pp. 340–360. In this section, the author comments particularly on
Wadud’s Qur’an and Women. He is critical of the idea of “readings” (as his title suggests) and the use of
Western hermeneutics in Qurʾān interpretation. The book was awarded a governmental prize in
Morocco and published by its religious ministry in 2010.
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120The term ikhtilāf may mean contradiction (as in Q 4:82; see 3.2.1 above), but it has also been used in
a positive sense as ikhtilāf al-tanawwuʿ, i.e. such as represents complementarity rather than conflict (see
Ibn Taymiyya’s Muqaddima, p. 38 ff., regarding differences between the Salaf). That kind of variation
belongs to the thematic domain, rather than comparative.
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how the exegetes and others identify nuances of meaning by comparing individual
words and extended passages – such as stories – in the Qurʾān. Thereafter, a closer
look at how they seek to resolve apparent contradictions in the text. Finally, how they
treat variant canonical readings (qirāʾāt), with both thematic and comparative methods
at play.
Near-Synonyms (Word-Level)
Zarkashī gathered a number of examples of “Words misconstrued as
synonymous” in his lengthy Chapter 46 of Al-Burhān124, drawing from several sources
121The variety of usages of this word was outlined in Chapter 3. This usage is sometimes given the
adjective lafẓiyya, i.e. verbal resemblance between verses. The differences I am considering here do not
reach the level of tension or contradiction, which is the topic of the next section.
122The difference between this lexical enquiry and those of kulliyyāt and wujūh described previously, is
that the latter deals with a single word which is used for one or more meanings. Furūq pertains to different
words which are used for the same meaning.
123For an overview of negative positions of Qurʾān scholars towards synonymy, see Munajjid, Al-Tarāduf,
pp. 121–125.
124 This was summarised in Al-Itqān Chapter 42, “Rules (qawāʿid) the exegete must know”.
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including the famous lexicon of al-Rāghib al-Iṣfahānī.125 The first example is the
distinction between khawf and khashya, both of which may be translated as ‘fear’126 –
Zarkashī observes that “linguists seldom make any distinction between them.”127 The
relationship he describes between them is ʿumūm wa khuṣūṣ, which is to say that one
is a subset of the other, i.e. more specific: this is a common strategy in differentiating
between near-synonyms. The first argument stems from the respective Arabic roots
along with their usage in the Qurʾān:
Khashya is undoubtedly more intense, the strongest type of khawf. It comes from ‘a
dry (khashī) tree’, which refers to complete loss, whereas khawf comes from ‘a
diseased (khawfāʾ) she-camel’, i.e. a shortcoming which does not amount to loss.
Therefore, khashya particularly is linked to God in the verse: “They are in awe
(khashya) of their Lord and in fear (khawf) of the evil reckoning” (13:21).128
Zarkashī expands this point further, drawing from ‘major derivation’129 applied to each
root, concluding that “khashya follows from the greatness of the one feared, even if
the fearful one is himself strong; as for khawf, it results from one’s own weakness and
thus may obtain even with respect to something insignificant.” Why, then, Zarkashī
asks, was it appropriate for khawf to be used in 16:50 – “They fear their Lord” – even
though, according to his earlier point, the norm is to use khashya? He responds that
both words hold true and are used according to perspective, i.e. one is described with
khashya of God in respect to His greatness, and khawf of Him due to weakness before
Him.130 The result of this manoeuvre is to turn an objection into a subtlety which
125Rāghib’s critique of excessive pluralism in wujūh was mentioned above: in the domain of furūq, he is
advocating pluralism over the reductionism represented by tarāduf theory. The same applies to Tirmidhī,
who – as well as his Taḥṣīl Naẓāʾir al-Qurʾān described above – penned another influential work entitled
Al-Furūq wa Manʿ al-Tarāduf. This combined stance is to say that each Quranic word is distinct from
others, and each is used consistently throughout the text.
126 The late Azharite scholar M.M. Ghālī, in Synonyms in the Ever-Glorious Qur’an, suggested English terms
for each near-synonym, which he also applied in his translation of the Qurʾān. In this case, he has khashya
as “apprehension” and khawf as “fear”.
127 Al-Burhān, p. 751.
128Al-Burhān, p. 751. This verse is itself an indication that the two words are not synonymous. A
commonly cited rule is that when words are cited together (or contrasted), their denotation diverges,
whereas they may be synonymous when occurring individually.
129The study of meta-meanings through various permutations of root letters is known as al-ishtiqāq al-
kabīr. See Jabal, ʿIlm al-Ishtiqāq, p. 41.
130 Al-Burhān, p. 751.
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further supports the belief that the Qurʾān employs these near-synonyms with attention
to detail; the argument is here summarised by Suyūṭī:
As for 16:50 – “They fear (khawf) their Lord above them” – it contains a subtlety in
that it refers to the angels; since they were described as great and powerful creations
[in other verses], their attitude was expressed here as khawf to indicate that despite
their severity and strength, they are weak before Almighty God. Then the concept of
elevation (fawqiyya) was added, which entails greatness, so the two aspects were
combined. As for humans, their weakness is known, so there was no need to draw
attention to this matter in their regard.131
A modern scholar, Muḥammad Dāwūd, studied these two terms along with six other
near-synonyms (ruʿb, rahba, rawʿ, faraq, fazaʿ and wajal) in their Quranic usages,
concluding that some overlap almost completely, whereas each displays certain
nuances. 132 The purpose behind such study is for the interpreter to go beyond the
obvious denotation of a word, to consider the subtleties of its usage and connotations.
As such, when studying the vocabulary of a particular verse, the meaning is further
refined and clarified by comparing it with similar words used elsewhere. The very fact
that near-synonyms exist in the Quranic corpus is a stimulus to investigate the intended
meaning of each in its place.
Near-Parallels (Verse-Level)
We turn now to focus on the resembling verses, for which Zarkashī composed
Al-Burhān’s Chapter 5, ʿIlm al-Mutashābih.133 As I noted in Chapter 2 of this study,
many of the verses categorised as parallels could equally be studied for their variations,
hence under this genre.134 However, in practice, the TQQ exegetes did not incorporate
this form of analysis in their works consistently.135 This becomes clear by comparing
the citations linked to Sūrat al-Anʿām in Ibn al-Zubayr’s Milāk al-Taʾwīl136 with those
provided under the same verses by the Group137 in my case study. In the right-hand
column, I have summarised the point(s) of divergence between the near-parallels and,
wherever relevant, what implications Ibn al-Zubayr concludes this has for the
interpretation of the verse in al-Anʿām.138
135 Joseph Witztum further states that this genre is “rarely referred to in Western Quranic studies”
despite its value to the critical researcher (‘Variant Traditions, Relative Chronology and the Study of
Intra-Quranic Parallels,’ in Sadeghi et al (eds.), p. 9). Witztum argues that a variety of approaches are
required in order for systematic analysis of this phenomenon and to understand its implications for the
Qurʾān’s composition (ibid, p. 2). He summarises the various approaches under the following six “axes”:
synchronic–diachronic, atomistic–coherent, oral–written, single–multiple authorship, harmony–
discord, human–divine (ibid, p. 4). He then provides examples of traditional and modern studies which
involve harmonisation, appeal to sūra context, diachronic reading, and others (ibid, pp. 5–12).
136 Sourcing these citations requires not only going through the sūra in question, but the whole book
prior to it. This is because, if Ibn al-Zubayr was comparing between verses in al-Baqara and al-Anʿām,
for example, he would only mention this comparison under al-Baqara. I have marked the verse where
the discussion appears with an asterisk (*). Underlined verses were also cited by the Group; if they do
not appear in the Parallels column, this is because they were cited as evidence (see full table in Appendix).
137 In this version of the table, I have combined the parallels cited by the Group with those from the
Supplementary works (see Chapter 2). However, I have sometimes restricted the parallels list to those
relevant to a phrase.
138 I am disregarding here explanations which touch purely upon word-forms, for example, as my topic
of study is meaning. I have also left out points which are easily derived from the context rather than
comparison with mutashābihāt. Some explanations are informative about the non-Anʿām verses, but I
have left those out for clarity in the table.
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Rather, God will guarantee their provision and yours.”139 Whereas some exegetes
treated them as parallels or explained both reductively in terms of that fear (khashya),
the comparative approach allows for both these forms of reasoning to exist in the
Qurʾān against the practice of infanticide.140
Aside from the intricacy of Ibn al-Zubayr’s prose, challenges to incorporating
his detailed study into the genre of tafsīr include its polemical bent, the speculative
nature of many of his explanations – a reality the author readily admits with humble
interjections of “Allāhu aʿlam” – and the fact that these explanations are frequently
strained. Rather than aiming at exposition of the verses of the Qurʾān, the author has
based his project on establishing the “appropriateness (munāsaba)” of each wording
to its context. The vagueness of this concept is readily observed, for example, in his
explanation for the particle fī being present in 35:39 – hence “successors on the earth”
– but absent from 6:165, which uses the iḍāfa construction – hence “successors of the
earth”.141 Ibn al-Zubayr attributes this difference to a general sense of “constriction”
surrounding the first juncture in Sūrat Fāṭir, compared with a sense of “expanse” in the
themes and statements leading to the closing of al-Anʿām. This is related to the fact
that removing the preposition fī results in a more expansive image of human population
of the earth, not bound to a particular location.142
I conclude the discussion on the mutashābihāt genre with brief points on
method and prospects. As with other TQQ-related fields of enquiry, surveying the
Qurʾān comprehensively is essential, in order to gather all relevant parallels and near-
parallels, and check for counters to whatever deductions are made, including in the
corpus of qirāʾāt.143 As Muḥammad al-Sāmarrāʾī states, such study depends on
thorough familiarity with Arabic grammar and morphology, and often external factors
including revelatory contexts (asbāb al-nuzūl).144 His own publication, based on a
rearrangement of Milāk al-Taʾwīl, facilitates the process of applying the insights and
techniques of Ibn al-Zubayr et al to the craft of exegesis. This can be further developed
into Quranic style manuals which guide the reader to the impact of verbal nuances
upon meaning.145
Kisāʾī, Ḥamza, Khalaf and Shuʿba–ʿĀṣim (Milāk, 1/450). See also ibid, 1/460 for his exclusion of the
singular reading ṣalātihim of Ḥamza and Kisāʾī from his comparison with 6:92. However, there is a
conflict between such acknowledgements (if Ibn al-Zubayr accepts these all as canonical) and statements
like “The opposite would not have been appropriate”. This can be seen in his statement that iḍāfa was
appropriate to 12:109 (dār al-ākhira) but naʿt (adjective) was appropriate to 6:32 (al-dār al-ākhira); he notes
earlier that Ibn ʿĀmir recited 6:32 with iḍāfa (ibid, 1/449-450) but does not comment on the
appropriateness of that reading.
144 Sāmarrāʾī, p. 234.
145 The writer’s father, Fāḍil al-Sāmarrāʾī, has authored a number of works which contribute to this aim
(see Dirāsat al-Mutashābih al-Lafẓī, p. 28).
146 Both renderings are common in describing this genre and its equivalent in Ḥadīth Studies.
147 Perhaps the most famous work of the broader genre is Ibn Qutayba’s Taʾwīl Mushkil al-Qurʾān. I
disagree with Ḥaydar (ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, p. 269) in saying that the term ikhtilāf encompasses the meaning
of ishkāl. As he notes himself (ibid, note 3), contradictions form only a subset of Ibn Qutayba’s discussions.
Suyūṭī does not go beyond this subset in the chapter in question.
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half were discussed by one or more exegetes in my case study, highlighting the
importance of looking beyond the immediate tafsīr genre.148
placed in Hell.149
6:107 states that if God willed, 6:148 condemns the mushrikūn The Qurʾān is refuting not the words
none would commit shirk. for stating exactly that. expressed, but the intended
implication: that God is satisfied with
their actions.
There are some differences between the opinions presented in this work and in Aḍwāʾ
al-Bayān, studied in Chapter 2. In his tafsīr, Shinqīṭī treats 4:140 as clarification of
6:69, but in Dafʿ al-Īhām, he seems to treat the possibility of abrogation as equally
plausible.150 Moreover, I did not find him mentioning in Aḍwāʾ that the “Sword Verse”
abrogated any of al-Anʿām; however, in Dafʿ, he states concerning 6:106 – which
exhorts Muḥammad to “turn away from the polytheists” – that “It does not contradict
148 Shinqīṭī does not suggest in his Aḍwāʾ that 6:92 conflicts with the other verses. In general, Dafʿ al-Īhām
is a more detailed study of apparent tensions than in his exegesis proper. I left out of this table the
suggestion concerning 6:141 (also 6:99), that “mutashābih wa ghayr mutashābih” might be considered a
contradiction (Dafʿ al-Īhām, p. 130)!
149Dafʿ al-Īhām, p. 134. The author goes on to respond in detail to scholars who argued that Hell will
indeed perish.
150 Dafʿ al-Īhām, p. 128.
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(taʿāruḍ) the Sword Verse, because that abrogates this.”151 As discussed in Chapter 3,
the technical sense of abrogation (naskh) only applies when two texts are irreconcilable
– therefore, his point, effectively, is that this is an acceptable contradiction.
An example from al-Anʿām not analysed by the Group or by Shinqīṭī in this
work, was discussed by Ibn al-Zubayr152, but without a direct acknowledgement of the
apparent contradiction between the statements. I refer here to the verses which ask:
“Who does greater wrong (man aẓlam) than one who…?” – as in verses 21, 93, 144
and 157 of this sūra, among other references. Since the rhetorical force of the question
is to describe each type of person as the greatest wrongdoer (or most unjust, aẓlam), it
does not seem possible for the superlative to hold true for the whole range. The
problem was noted by Suyūṭī, who reproduced several explanations from Abū
Ḥayyān’s exegesis, which I summarise here:153
a. Each is relative to the type of action described, e.g. the worst and most
unjust “prevention” is to prevent people from the mosques (2:114), and the
worst “invention” is to invent lies against God (6:144).
b. Each describes the first to perform the respective sins, therefore described
as aẓlam relative to all who follow in their footsteps.
c. The verses, taken together, can be understood as equating these various sins
to each other in wrong and injustice. Each only negates that there is anyone
more unjust, not that there is anyone as unjust.
Suyūṭī adds one more explanation from an unnamed source, to the effect that the verses
should not be taken literally to entail that each sinner described is the worst; rather, it
is a rhetorical question which emphasises the great wrong that each is committing.154
The general strategies for dealing with conflicting verses were summarised by
Isfarāyīnī, quoted in Al-Burhān, as I cited previously in Chapter 3. It should be noted
that the location of these discussions has generally been uṣūl al-fiqh, pertaining to
practical rulings, as the reference to abrogation implies:
When verses conflict and it is not possible to reconcile them, then resort is made to
chronology and the earlier one is abandoned in favour of the later, which constitutes
abrogation. If chronology is unknown, yet there is consensus upon acting on one of
the two verses, then this consensus demonstrates that the one so acted upon has
abrogated [the other].155
159See 3.3.1 above. I have explained above that the term mujmal is treated by some uṣūl scholars as
equivalent to mutashābih. Zarkashī (Al-Burhān, p. 285) cites examples, via Abū Bakr al-Bāqillānī, of verses
which are subjected to taʾwīl (interpretation) in the light of more authoritative ones.
160This is assuming that there is no explicit and authoritative statement to the effect that naskh has taken
place. In that case, it would not make sense to insist on reconciliation as the first step.
161 By way of example: quotations in the Qurʾān of historical figures who did not speak Arabic necessarily
involve adaptation. In that light, variations in different sūras do not present the same challenge as points
of law or doctrine.
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one around the world today, there is strong representation of Warsh–Nāfiʿ, Qālūn–
Nāfiʿ and others in parts of Africa, for example.162 Even when such differences in
transmission and recitation result in divergent meanings within some verses of the
Qurʾān, Sunnī consensus163 maintains that each of these is authentic and authoritative
in its own right.164 This is reflected in the learning institutions in which specialists are
trained to recite in multiple ways, usually relying upon the didactic poems composed
by al-Qāsim b. Fīrru al-Shāṭibī (d. 590/1194) and Muḥammad b. Muḥammad al-Jazarī
(d. 833/1429). For students of this field, the various readings are treated equally, and
the idea that Ḥafṣ–ʿĀṣim is the “standard” does not feature.
The role of variant readings in tafsīr is intimately connected to the
conceptualisation of their provenance, and doctrine concerning their authority. It is not
possible here to explore the core questions regarding qirāʾāt – and their relationship
to the traditions concerning seven aḥruf, “letters” or modes – as my focus is upon the
general stance of Islamic scholarship post-canonisation, which began with Ibn
Mujāhid (d. 324/936) selecting seven variants from five regional centres in his book
Kitāb al-Sabʿa.165 In later scholarship – particularly under the influence of Ibn al-
162 See Ghānim al-Ḥamad, Muḥāḍarāt fī ʿUlūm al-Qurʾān, pp. 148–150 for an outline of the historical rise
of ʿĀṣim and its Ḥafṣ transmission, which were originally identified among Iraqi readings; he argues that
this preceded the advent of printing and the patronage of the Ottomans (cf. Nasser, Transmission, p. 1).
163 The cautious adjective reflects the existence of qirāʾāt-scepticism in Shīʿī scholarship, as exemplified
by Khūʾī in his Prolegomenon (see pp. 92–93 and 114–117, and his conclusion regarding readings “well
established during the lifetime of Ahl al-Bayt”. Faḍl ʿAbbās responds to Khūʾī in Itqān al-Burhān, 2/422–
425). See re: other major figures in Nasser, Transmission, pp. 112–115. Dissent of a similar character is
expressed by Javed Ghamidi, who argues, based on a quotation from Abū ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Sulamī
(see Zarkashī, Al-Burhān, p. 137), that there was a single reading at the time of the Companions, described
as al-qirāʾat al-ʿāmma. Ghamidi equates this to the Ḥafṣ sub-reading, and quotes Iṣlāḥī as saying that no
other qirāʾa is as eloquent and coherent (see Islam: A Comprehensive Introduction, pp. 33–34). Both assertions
are highly problematic; moreover, Zarkashī clearly places Sulamī’s quotation in the context of major
variations (affecting orthography).
164A related question is whether each reading is sufficient in its own right. That is the broad assumption
even in scholarship, which rarely treats comparison of qirāʾāt as a necessity in presenting or interpreting
the Qurʾān. Translations of the Qurʾān are, almost universally, based on the Ḥafṣ narration (that of
Aisha and Abdal-Haqq Bewley is an exception, being based on Warsh). Word indexes, such as Al-Muʿjam
al-Mufahras of ʿAbd al-Bāqī, also fail to take variants into account, which would increase or decrease
occurrences of certain words. According to the late Azharite scholar Muḥammad ʿAbd al-Khāliq
ʿUḍayma, grammarians frequently make judgements without surveying the Qurʾān comprehensively,
including its multiple readings. See his immense work Dirāsāt li-Uslūb al-Qurʾān, 1/15–17.
165 Re: Ibn Mujāhid’s ‘sevenisation’, see Nasser, Transmission, pp. 35–36 and 48–61, and Shah, ‘The
Early Arabic Grammarians’ Contributions to the Collection and Authentication of Qur’anic Readings:
The Prelude to Ibn Mujahid's Kitāb al-Sabʿa’. An area requiring further research and elaboration is the
role and processes of ikhtiyār (selection) on the part of the reciter-imāms (see Aḥmad ʿAlī al-Imām, Variant
Readings of the Qur’an, p. 141 ff.). Whether they were selecting purely from received readings (upon the
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Jazarī, author of Kitāb al-Nashr which incorporated three further readings which had
retained popularity – the Seven and, subsequently, Ten Readings were classed as
“mutawātir”. Although this label purports to refer to the successively multiple
transmission of these readings, its accuracy from an uṣūl al-fiqh or ḥadīth perspective
is a matter of dispute.166 For this reason, I opt to describe the Ten as “canonical” and
such readings as fall outside this corpus (known as shādhdh readings, literally:
anomalous) as “non-canonical”. This perspective treats the qirāʾāt not as a separate
phenomenon from the Qurʾān, but a “composite part of its nature”.167 Each divinely-
ordained mode of recitation of a verse has the same Quranic status: as such, any
comprehensive survey (istiqrāʾ) of the Qurʾān would require taking all canonical
readings into account.
As Shady Nasser has documented, there was a marked shift from early
approaches to variant readings to a developed consensus of both reciters (qurrāʾ) and
uṣūl scholars, affected by methodologies in ḥadīth studies, that the Ten Readings enjoy
an equal status as Qurʾān, and that any textual variant found in these canonical readings
is above criticism. This shift is reflected in the tafsīr tradition, as observable in the
relevant section of my case study in Chapter 2. Ibn Jarīr al-Ṭabarī, who preceded and
even taught Ibn Mujāhid, did not hesitate to express preference for some readings over
others, or even to criticise some (such as Ibn ʿĀmir’s reading of 6:137) in the strongest
terms.168 Later scholars would mount a staunch defence of any reading from the Seven
in particular, responding to the critiques of early exegetes, and especially linguists and
grammarians.169 Upon either stance, the variant readings – even those downgraded as
doctrine of recitation as “strictly adhered-to tradition, sunna muttabaʿa”), or the matter was freer than that
(involving linguistic preferences, analogy, etc.), it would be interesting to consider the extent of
intraquranic methods in guiding ikhtiyār.
166 See Nasser, Transmission, p. 98 ff.
167Shah, ‘Review of Variant Readings of the Qurʾān by Aḥmad ʿAlī al-Imām,’ p. 78. A contrary expression
is used by Zarkashī, who describes the Qurʾān and the qirāʾāt as “distinct realities (ḥaqīqatān
mutaghāyiratān)”: the former is revelation, and the latter refers to variations and selections pertaining to
some of the words from that revelation – Al-Burhān, p. 180. This does not contradict the assertion that
the existence of the Qurʾān depends upon the existence of at least one qirāʾa: then the question would be
how this is identified.
168See 2.5.1 above. Aside from linguistic considerations, Ṭabarī frequently justifies his preference with
appeals to the “majority” of readers, before such matters were defined through canonisation.
169 See Rufaydah, Al-Naḥw wa Kutub al-Tafsīr for chronological accounts of the exegetes’ treatment of
qirāʾāt. Shawkānī is unusual as an exegete who engaged in critique of particular readings long after
canonisation.
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shādhdh – do have a role to play in exegesis, but the inclusion of this source in TQQ
is predicated upon this later consensus.
Alongside this assumption of the ‘Quranicity’ of each of the Ten Readings,
there is another key principle underpinning their use in explaining each other
intraquranically. This is that each canonical qirāʾa of a verse is to be considered
equivalent to an independent verse170, such that one may be explained with reference
to the other – in the same manner as other cross-references and evidentiary citations.
From this perspective, variant readings represent not indeterminacy, but richness of
content. This, too, marks a shift from early trends of preferring some readings over
others, to explaining the import of each, and even studying them thematically.
170In his chapter on seeming contradictions, Zarkashī states: “[Authorities] have treated the conflict
between two readings of a single verse like the conflict between two verses” (Al-Burhān, p. 285).
171Nasser describes such works in ‘Revisiting Ibn Mujāhid's Position on the Seven Canonical Readings,’
pp. 88–89. He does not point out that later works in the genre eschew denigration of any of the readings.
172Some works are specific to one reading, whereas others: such as Al-Ḥujja by Abū ʿAlī al-Fārisī, a
leading grammarian and student of Ibn Mujāhid, encompassed the Seven or more.
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example, by Abū Manṣūr al-Azharī (d. 370/980) in Maʿānī l-Qirāʾāt, which is titled
to reflect its focus upon meanings.173
The modern era has seen the compilation of several tawjīh works which place
greater emphasis on the canonicity and relevance of all mutawātir readings.174 Even
so, the dichotomy between reductionism (i.e. harmonisation) and pluralism (i.e. adding
further meanings) exists here as elsewhere in intraquranic exegesis. Is it the case that
Mālik and Malik – the variants describing God as “Master” or “King” of Judgment
Day, respectively, in Q 1:4 – should be understood as equivalent? Or should the
mufassir inform us that the verse delivers both these meanings, which are
complementary? Here, as in the case of apparent contradiction, a staged process may
apply. According to the grammarian Ibn Hishām (d. 761/1359), the default
presumption is that variant readings agree in meaning.175 Where that is not feasible,
the next recourse of the exegete is to explain that the meanings are not contradictory;
indeed, they may enhance the understanding of the verse. In some cases, tarjīḥ may be
necessary: not to the extent of negating the authenticity of a reading (as in pre-
canonical times), but to interpret it in light of a clearer reading of the same verse.176
The logical conclusion of the canonical and pluralistic approach to multiple
readings is to expect them all to be taken into account in the interpretation of any
particular verse.177 This is the premise of a series of Master’s theses at the Islamic
University of Gaza, subsequently published under the title of Tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-
Qirāʾāt al-ʿAshr al-Mutawātira (“Exegesis of the Qurʾān through the Ten Canonical
173 See Brockett, ‘Value of Ḥafṣ and Warsh Transmissions’ in Rippin (ed.), Approaches to the History of the
Interpretation of the Qurʾān, pp. 37–40 for interesting comments on pluralism and reductionism (though
Brockett does not use these terms).
174Most influential is Ḥabash, Al-Qirāʾāt al-Mutawātira, which is arranged thematically around juristic
and creedal issues. A different focus is provided by Aḥmad Saʿd Muḥammad in Al-Tawjīh al-Balāghī li-l-
Qirāʾāt al-Qurʾāniyya, which is arranged according to topics in Arabic rhetoric and includes non-canonical
readings. A new publication which I did not include here is Mihannā and Wādī, Ittisāʿ al-Dalālāt fī
Taʿaddud al Qirāʾāt al-Qurʾāniyya.
175Ibn Hishām, Mughnī l-Labīb, p. 30. See also Rakītī, Qawāʿid, p. 269 for this axiom as implemented by
the exegete Ibn ʿAṭiyya, and Rūmī, Dirāsāt fī Qawāʿid al-Tarjīḥ, 2/476 ff. for the same with Fakhr al-Dīn
al-Rāzi.
176 A reading at one juncture could even be classed as mutashābih, beyond explanation (see 3.3.1).
177 Ibn ʿĀshūr states in his introductions (Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 1/55–56 and 96) that whenever
canonical readings yield multiple meanings, those meanings should all be regarded as “intended” by the
verse. However, on the whole, he does not consider their study integral to tafsīr (ibid, 1/25 and 51).
226
Readings”).178 The analysis in this series resembles other modern tawjīh works, but
each discussion culminates in a section “combining” the readings (al-jamʿ bayna al-
qirāʾāt) pluralistically, as far as possible.
With reference to a range of tawjīh works, I have studied a selection of variants
in Sūrat al-Anʿām to summarise the various explanations and harmonisations featured,
as well as some which were not expressed in the sources I consulted.179 The
“reductionist” explanation here means either to say that the two readings amount to
the same meaning, or that one is interpreted in light of the other. A “pluralistic”
explanation is to say that the combination of qirāʾāt results in a fuller understanding
of the verse than could have been attained without that multiplicity.
178Another premise is that the multiplicity of readings and meanings reflects the miraculous nature of
the Qurʾān. The portion including Sūrat al-Anʿām was written by Fātina al-Sakanī (2006). It covers fifty-
one verses of al-Anʿām, but it missed yuḍillūn vs. yaḍillūn in 6:119. The writer has sometimes mixed up
explanations from the sources and failed to articulate conclusions clearly.
179These are the same as in Figure 4 in Chapter 2, in which I summarised Ṭabarī’s opinions. I refer
here to classical works (in the “longitudinal” format), as well as modern thematic tawjīh works and the
Gaza series. This whole genre requires further study to establish its principles and lineages.
180 Azharī, Kitāb Maʿānī l-Qirāʾāt, p. 150, citing Abū Isḥāq al-Zajjāj (d. 311/923), whose book
demonstrates the grammarians’ approach to outlining linguistic possibilities: Zajjāj also explained how
rabbunā (nominative) would be appropriate, though it is not attested in the qirāʾāt (Maʿānī l-Qurʾān wa
Iʿrābuh, 2/190).
181 Sakanī, p. 89.
182 Ṭabarī, Jāmiʿ al-Bayān, 4/3197.
183 Sakanī, p. 109.
227
83: narfaʿu darajātin Whoever is raised, so are his degrees. These are separate concepts: a person
The first is clearer in denoting is raised (in knowledge etc.) or
man nashāʾ /
multiple degrees of elevation.185 favoured over others (tafḍīl).186
narfaʿu darajāti man
Or: God raises people’s ranks and
nashāʾ raises them to those ranks [combined,
this results in greater elevation].187
96: wa jaʿala l-layla Two expressions for the same
sakanan / meaning.188
184This example demonstrates that, upon the canonical approach, explanations of vocabulary such as
Āzar ought to be checked against the various qirāʾāt for consistency.
185 This semantic preference for the tanwīn reading is attributed to Abū ʿAmr, who is one of the Seven,
yet the reading with his name is with iḍāfa. The author of Al-Tawjīh al-Balāghī (p. 146) questioned his
claim that “We raise the degrees (darajāt) of whomever We will” could refer to raising even by one degree.
I suggest that the idea is that each person occupies several darajāt, and these could be elevated collectively
even by one. On the other hand, “We raise by degrees whomever We will” is explicit in denoting
multiple degrees of elevation.
186 Fārisī, Al-Ḥujja, 2/817–818.
187 Sakanī, p. 127.
188 Fārisī, Al-Ḥujja, 2/835. He explains that conjoining jaʿala to fāliq requires their equivalence in
denoting past tense. Similar is said concerning the conjunction of wa-l-shamsa (accusative) to jāʿil al-layli
(genitive), which requires semantic equivalence. Therefore, it is difficult to argue for any divergence
between the use of perfect verb and active participle in this instance. Cf. Sakanī, p. 140, where a tentative
attempt is made but the conclusion is unclear.
189Ibn Khālawayh, Iʿrāb al-Qirāʾāt al-Sabʿ wa ʿIlaluhā (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2006), p. 105.
[NB: contrary to the cover and front matter, which attribute it to a scholar two centuries subsequent,
the author is Abū ʿAbd-Allāh Aḥmad b. Ḥusayn Ibn Khālawayh (d. 370/980).] See also Fārisī, Al-Ḥujja,
2/860, part of a longer intraquranic study of this word-pair. Ibn ʿĀshūr excludes from this the scenario
in which a person walks the correct path but misinforms others so they go astray (Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr,
8/36). However, in theological terms, such a person must be considered astray himself.
190 Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 8/36.
191Exegetes state that the bāʾ preposition in bi-ahwāʾihim is for sababiyya (causation). While this is
undoubtedly the case for the intransitive reading, I propose that the same preposition in the transitive
reading could be interpreted as instrumental (bāʾ al-istiʿāna) – see Suyūṭī, Al-Itqān, 3/1083.
192 Azharī, Maʿānī l-Qirāʾāt, p. 174.
193Sakanī, p. 197, citing Ālūsī. See also Ḥabash, Al-Qirāʾāt al-Mutawātira, p. 229; Muḥammad, Al-Tawjīh
al-Balāghī, p. 77.
228
In the preceding study of variants, I have looked for reductionist and pluralistic
approaches in the tawjīh literature and added some suggestions to make these
approaches clearer. Some of the attempts to generate multiple meanings are
unconvincing (such as in 6:23), and at other times, this appears to be impossible (6:96).
A clear methodology in this regard has not been elaborated, as far as I can tell, in the
Gazan project. On the other hand, there are some meanings that are unavoidably
separate, without necessarily contradicting: an example is “his father Āzar” and “said
to his father, ‘Āzar’”. The syntactic readings (naʿt and nidāʾ, respectively) are
necessarily separate, whether Āzar describes the “father” or an idol, as some exegetes
claimed.195
There is very little comparative study of works of tawjīh, let alone comparing
these two approaches applied by the authors without an obvious methodology and
consistent distinction between them. Moreover, while one may expect later works to
incorporate the best insights of the early scholars, I found points in the earlier works
(which may be longer, as with Al-Ḥujja of Abū ʿAlī al-Fārisī) which are absent from
later works: an example is the distinction between the senses of “raising someone in
ranks” and “raising someone’s ranks” (6:83).196 Therefore, if the method I have
outlined here – presenting reductionist and pluralist readings in parallel – is to be
applied to the whole Qurʾān, it should draw from the earliest sources (including the
tafsīr genre itself) as well as making use of later insights.
194 Bāzmūl, Al-Qirāʾāt wa Atharuhā fī l-Tafsīr wa-l-Aḥkām, 2/553. The author lists this example in his
chapter concerning “readings which expand the meaning of the verse”. His other chapters include those
which “explain” or “resolve problems”; stylistic variants; and readings pertaining to ʿumūm, khuṣūṣ and
ijmāl.
195In the latter case, it may be translated, respectively, as: “to his father, (do you worship) Āzar?” or “to
his father, O (worshipper of) Āzar!” – Ibn Kathīr describes the first of these and dismisses it as
implausible grammatically (Tafsīr al-Qurʾān al-ʿAẓīm, 3/206).
196 For further points on traditional methodologies of using qirāʾāt in tafsīr, see Shiddī, Ḍawābiṭ wa Āthār
Istiʿānat al-Mufassir bi-l-Qirāʾāt.
229
necessarily follow the same procedures described previously in general TQQ: the
matter is subtler and points towards the other aspects of context.
The second type of context is described by the rhetoricians as ḥāl or maqām,
i.e. the situation in which the utterance is made: this may be linked to asbāb al-nuzūl,
hence best rendered as “contexts/situations of revelation”.201 The specific event which
accompanied a particular verse being presented before its listeners can elucidate its
meaning and application – without necessarily limiting it to that exact situation. We
may differentiate between the “micro-sabab” – i.e. a specific event – and the “macro-
sabab” which is a social phenomenon being addressed, implicitly or explicitly, by a
passage of the Qurʾān: both of these fall within this sense of the word “context”.202
There are two possible routes to acquire information about situational context: internal
and external. The former, as Farāhī argued (see Chapter 3), is to infer this from the text
itself; the latter relies on historical reports.
The third usage is found mainly with uṣūl al-fiqh scholars: this is for siyāq and
similar to describe the speaker’s intent (gharaḍ), i.e. the purpose behind the
utterance.203 More evidently, this is the purpose of studying context (textual and
situational), and indeed the very purpose of tafsīr is to discern “what God intends
(murād Allāh) from His words.”204 It may be confusing to use the same term for this
higher-order reality alongside the forms of context which the reader can access directly
(co-text) or through secondary texts (such as asbāb); the latter two can be described in
terms of internal or external “cues” (qarāʾin).205 At the same time, this is the sense in
which one commonly speaks of reading a verse “in context” or “out of context”, i.e.
according to its original, intended purpose or otherwise. As I shall describe below,
some of the jurists built textual categories explicitly upon this distinction.
201The literal sense of “cause” is also relevant here, as the situation is what “causes” or prompts the
response in the form of revelation. Although the word “occasion” is often appropriate, it has the
appearance of referring to time rather than events and realities.
202See the discussion of asbāb in Chapter 3, especially re: Dihlawī and Farāhī, and the discussion of
khuṣūṣ al-sabab above (4.1.2). See also Rippin, ‘The Construction of the Arabian Historical Context’ in
Bauer (ed), Aims, Methods and Contexts, pp. 173–198.
203 Raysūnī, Al-Naṣṣ al-Qurʾānī, p. 83 and Aḥmad, Athar al-Siyāq fī Tawjīh al-Maʿnā, p. 40.
204 See for example: Zurqānī, Manāhil al-ʿIrfān, 2/381.
205 For a summary of these in the context of tafsīr see Aḥmad, Athar al-Siyāq, pp. 57–58.
231
206 By rulings, I do not mean only juristic (fiqhī) rulings, as this term may apply to theology, language,
and other fields: any judgement of what is permissible, obligatory, illicit, and so on. A valuable resource
for the study of istinbāṭ is Suyūṭī’s Al-Iklīl fī Istinbāṭ al-Tanzīl, a compilation from various disciplines, which
deserves a thorough study to identify the routes of denotation employed by scholars and to sift the
stronger istidlāl from the weaker: this will often be a function of context. See also Ḥusayn (Maʿāyīr al-
Qabūl wa-l-Radd, pp. 710–717) for rules to balance between naẓm (here denoting the wording, not
context) and siyāq. For example, “Those who do not judge according to what God has sent down” (Q
5:44) refers primarily to the Israelites (in context), but the wording encompasses anyone who fits the
description.
232
and implications drawn from it. The various relationships are known as the denotations
(dalālāt) of words, and the Ḥanafites categorised these as four, in order of strength of
denotation: ʿibārat al-naṣṣ, ishārat al-naṣṣ, dalālat al-naṣṣ and dalālat al-iqtiḍāʾ. The
first of these refers to a text being used in its plain meaning, in line with its evident
purpose (mā sīqa l-kalāmu lahu)207 – in other words, in its original context. The second
type of denotation is for a ruling to be concomitant (lāzim) to the original context and
purpose: this is less evident than the ʿibāra, yet nevertheless authoritative.208 The third
category is similar to analogy (qiyās), but it is for a ruling to extend to unstated
scenarios due to an overlap – evident from the text itself – with the original context.209
The last is when something must be assumed in order for the text to hold true.210
The purpose of enumerating these categories – aside from their inherent value
to uṣūl al-tafsīr, originating in uṣūl al-fiqh – is that they demonstrate that a ruling may
be deduced from a text which is not concerned directly with conveying that ruling: in
other words, out of context. That does not mean that rulings – or their evidential basis
– cannot be challenged on the basis of context, as this does occur in works of exegesis.
A juristic example is found in Rāzī’s Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb under Q 7:204, “When the
Qurʾān is recited, listen to it attentively and be silent, so you may be shown mercy”.211
After enumerating the positions of the fiqh schools, he dismisses their various
applications of the verse, because the surrounding verses demonstrate that this was
“addressed to the unbelievers in the context of the Messenger reciting to them”.212 An
example mentioned previously is ʿAbduh’s interpretation of the verse of naskh
(2:106): if, as he argues from context, it is actually about one miraculous sign (āya)
replacing another, then it has no evidentiary value for the theory of abrogation.213
207 Ṣāliḥ, Tafsīr al-Nuṣūṣ, 2/384. I am not providing precise uṣūlī definitions here but describing the
relation to context in simple terms.
208 Ṣāliḥ, 2/391.
209 Ṣāliḥ, 2/420–421. Shāfiʿites describe this as mafhūm al-muwāfaqa, and it is sometimes known by faḥwā
l-khiṭāb and other names.
210 Ṣāliḥ, 2/443.
211 Translation: Mustafa Khattab, The Clear Quran.
212 Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb, 8/99.
213 Tafsīr al-Manār, 1/399–401. This verse, although the most famous proof-text for abrogation (and the
first in the muṣḥaf-order of the Qurʾān), is by no means the strongest evidence for the theory (see 3.2.2
above).
233
Apart from evidentiary use for rulings, there are at least two other ways in
which Quranic expressions are regularly taken out of context. One is for these to be
used similarly to proverbs and sayings, such as “The male is not like the female” in
3:36.214 Whereas this is sometimes used to emphasise gender differences or even to
denigrate women, the original context presents it either as the perspective of Mary’s
mother, or as divine praise of that particular female, to whom no (imagined) male could
compare – according to the interpretation of Zamakhsharī.215 The other is the field of
mystical commentary known as al-tafsīr al-ishārī, found in early Ṣūfī works such as
the Laṭāʾif al-Ishārāt of Abū l-Qāsim al-Qushayrī (d. 465/1073), and later in discrete
sections of Ālūsī’s Rūḥ al-Maʿānī. Whereas some writers have criticised such
commentaries for indulging spiritual allusions at the expense of both text and context,
others believe that they may be accepted on the condition that they are not considered
to reflect the actual meaning of the text, and intent of the Author.216
Unlike various sets of methods described previously, there is no distinct genre
in Islamic scholarship dedicated to the study of context per se. Rules and methods to
form part of a developed intraquranic hermeneutics can be derived from two main
sources: the practice of the exegetes (classical and modern), and theories from
linguistics (Arabic and comparative). Here I give more attention to the former,
beginning with more traditional scholars before the advocates of context, coherence
and structure.217
214 This is an example of what some writers call a Quranic maxim (qāʿida), which is akin to a proverb or
mathal (and close to the concept of iqtibās, citation in other contexts). Ibn ʿĀshūr provides an interesting
argument for extracting such expressions from their original contexts, finding precedence in Prophet
Muḥammad’s citation of 8:24 (see Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 1/94–95; see also Maḥmūd, Introduction to
the Principles of Qur'anic Exegesis, pp. 71–75). This particular expression features in the titles of various
articles about gender, including one by Karen Bauer (‘The Male Is Not Like the Female (Q 3:36): The
Question of Gender Egalitarianism in the Qur’ān’). An anti-equality reading is elaborated in Muqbil,
Qawāʿid Qurʾāniyya, pp. 57–64. For his part, Suyūṭī only mentions in Al-Iklīl (p. 171) the argument that
women who menstruate may not be hired to serve [in the relevant sense] in the mosque.
215 Zamakhsharī, Al-Kashshāf, p. 169. This was adopted by Muḥammad Asad in his translation.
216 For rejection, see Muḥammad al-Fāḍil Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Tafsīr wa Rijāluh, pp. 168–169: his points echo
criticism by Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī (d. 505/1111) of esoteric (Bāṭinī) interpretations. For cautious
acceptance, see Dhahabī, Al-Tafsīr wa-l-Mufassirūn, 2/328–331.
217 An example of the latter approach is El-Awa, Textual Relations in the Qurʾān: Relevance, Coherence and
Structure (see pp. 7–8); this work draws particularly upon Western theories of verbal communication.
234
218Mir acknowledges this in ‘Continuity, Context, and Coherence,’ p. 17. Surprisingly, Muṭayrī remarks
that Ṭabarī would sometimes appeal to context at the expense of more important considerations (Tafsīr
al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān, p. 174).
219Dalālat al-Siyāq al-Qurʾānī, p. 142 ff. From his list of nine (which included other forms of context), I
have quoted five in total.
220Dalālat al-Siyāq, p. 183 ff. The internal cues mentioned are: language, syntax, frequent usage.
External: revelatory context, Prophetic ḥadīth, statements of Companions, consensus.
221 Dalālat al-Siyāq, p. 262.
222 Dalālat al-Siyāq, p. 215 ff. and cf. Mir, ‘The Sura as a Unity: A Twentieth Century Development in Qur'an
Exegesis’ in Hawting and Shareef (eds.), Approaches to the Qur’ān. An example is Sūrat al-Anʿām, as
mentioned previously (2.8): Ṭabarī refers back to the phrase in Q 6:1 at various points in his tafsīr,
indicating that he considers shirk, or “those who equate others with their Lord” a recurring theme in the
sūra.
235
- The alternation of night and day results from the earth’s rotation.
- Specifying the mountains is appropriate due to their position relative to the
earth, and to the sun for an observer.232
- The comparison to the motion of clouds is because the latter also move at a
pace that is not immediately apparent. The author therefore distinguishes the
verbal noun marr from the word sayr which features in 18:47, which many
exegetes cite as a parallel, treating both terms as synonymous.233
228 There is a story behind my study of this verse and its context. In 2015, I attended a seminar by an
Arabic scholar who argued that the exegetes and translators (excluding Richard Bell) were completely
mistaken in adopting the future tense. He ‘excused’ them for being unaware of the scientific fact of the
rotation of the earth. When I raised the point about context with him, he seemed not to have considered
it. Upon investigation, I came across this thorough argument from Ibn ʿĀshūr. Several recent translators
have adopted this reading, including Ali Quli Qara’i, Muḥammad Ghālī and Mustafa Khattab.
229 Ibn ʿĀshūr, Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 20/47–51.
230 Ibn ʿĀshūr makes occasional arguments for “scientific miracles” in the Qurʾān: see his tenth
introduction (Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 1/127). In the present verse, he notes that the address has shifted to
the Prophet directly (“You see” in the singular), indicating that elite knowledge is being imparted, like
that given to Abraham (ibid, 20/49).
231 Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 20/48.
232 Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 20/49; these two points were not made entirely clear and explicit.
233 Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 20/50.
237
234 Al-Taḥrīr wa-l-Tanwīr, 20/51. I have suggested that Ibn ʿĀshūr has applied a naẓm-based approach to
this passage. In contrast, Farāhī (Taʿlīqāt, 2/30) and Iṣlāḥī (Tadabbur, 5/637) adopted the standard future
interpretation which accords with contextual flow.
235 An example is Farrin, who titled his work Structure and Qur’anic Interpretation but gave little or no
treatment of interpretation. More broadly, structural studies of the Qurʾān represent a burgeoning field,
with Angelika Neuwirth and Neal Robinson being influential figures. The approach of Michel Cuypers
(see The Composition of the Qur’an, pp. 10–12) proceeds from a theory that Semitic rhetoric calls for forms
of organisation which include cyclical patterns. The recent publication Divine Speech by Khan and
Randhawa builds on these various ideas, and its co-author Nouman Ali Khan, utilises them in his
popular lectures for two main purposes: to inspire people concerning the “perfection” of the scripture,
and to highlight meanings which would otherwise remain unnoticed. It is the latter purpose which is
most pertinent to our discussion of uṣūl al-tafsīr.
236 See discussion and critiques of the various approaches in Sinai’s review essay ‘Going Round in
Circles’; Rippin, ‘Contemporary Scholarly Understandings’; and Friedman, ‘Interrogating Structural
Interpretation’.
237 See for example: Mir, Coherence, pp. 17–18; El-Awa, Textual Relations, pp. 16–17; and Khan,
Understanding the Qurʾān, pp. 137–184. The latter is a thematic comparison between Biqāʿī and Iṣlāḥī,
largely to the favour of the latter. The author’s dismissive characterisations of major tafsīr works (ibid,
v–viii) may have been influenced by Farāhī’s terse summaries of the approaches of Ṭabarī, Ibn Kathīr,
Zamakhsharī and Rāzī (see marginal note in Rasāʾil al-Imām al-Farāhī, p. 216).
238
The term naẓm, which has frequently been translated as “coherence”238, may
encompass several levels or forms of context. Mustansir Mir uses it for three different
types in his paper on ‘Continuity, Context, and Coherence’:
“By continuity I mean linkage between some or all the verses of a sūrah; by context
I mean a framework of meaning which is typically created by a set of verses seen to
form a cluster and which helps to determine the meaning of one or more verses
occurring inside or in the vicinity of that cluster; and by coherence I mean overall, or
organic, unity or coherence in a sūrah.”239
It is therefore worthwhile to summarise these levels of text relations (and various terms
used to describe them) before making some final observations on the Farāhian school
and its implications for contextual methods for interpreting the Qurʾān.
1. Relationship between meaning and words in a single expression (known in
Arabic rhetoric as naẓm).240
2. Links between sequential verses or passages, classically known as
munāsaba (Abdul-Raof: consonance. Mir: continuity. Khan and
Randhawa: linear coherence).241
3. Broader textual relations inside passages (Mir: context).
4. Thematic unity to the level of the sūra. (Farāhī: niẓām, Iṣlāḥī: naẓm. Mir:
coherence. Khan and Randhawa: holistic coherence).242
5. Intra- and inter-sūra structural observations. (Part of Farāhian theory.
Harvey: niẓām.)243
6. Intraquranic cross-references (classically tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān).244
238Notably by Mustansir Mir in Coherence in the Qur’ān. However, Salwa El-Awa argues that the term
coherence is closer to the concept of munāsaba, which is not necessarily linear and sequential as Mir infers
from his reading of Rāzī (see El-Awa, pp. 15 and 165). She further explains that in linguistic theory,
“coherence” pertains to relations between linguistic units, whereas “relevance” (her preferred approach)
extends also to the information being communicated (ibid, p. 26).
239Mir, ‘Continuity, Context, and Coherence in the Qur’ān: A Brief Review of the Idea of Naẓm in
Tafsīr Literature’, p. 15.
240See Khalfallah, ‘al-Jurjānī: Tafsīr Theory between Linguistics and Theological Dogma’ in Görke and
Pink (eds.), p. 260.
241 Abdul-Raof, Consonance in the Qurʾān; Khan and Randhawa, Divine Speech, p. 151.
242 Khan and Randhawa, p. 152.
243 See Harvey, The Qur’an and the Just Society, pp. 50–52 for a good overview of these concerns and his
distinction between naẓm and niẓām.
244See El-Awa, Textual Relations, pp. 41–42. The highly influential sentence on the subject by Ibn
Taymiyya, on which I have commented several times in this thesis, describes the relation between one
239
“Where there are multiple possibilities, we opt for the best and most suited to the
structure (niẓām) and central theme (ʿamūd).”247
“When there are various meanings and aspects (wujūh, iʿtibār) [for an expression], we
opt for that most suited to the context (maqām) and the theme of the passage (ʿamūd
al-kalām).”248
Farāhī acknowledges that deducing the naẓm and the unifying ʿamūd is extremely
difficult249 – this is a point which requires further investigation if this methodology is
intended to settle exegetical differences. The very fact of its difficulty presents a
challenge to the assumption of clear Quranic discourse, which is one of the premises
of his approach with its minimal use of “external” sources. Nevertheless, clarity is
achieved or restored once the unifying theme is identified – as Farāhī says, it
illuminates the sūra “like the emergence of dawn”.250
This process is, therefore, inferential then deductive, going from juzʾī (the
meanings of individual verses) to kullī (theory concerning the entire edifice) and back
verse and what is found “at another juncture (fī mawḍiʿin ākhar)”. Modern accounts have tended to
integrate different fields into TQQ (see Chapter 1).
245 Al-Takmīl fī Uṣūl al-Taʾwīl in Rasāʾil al-Imām al-Farāhī, pp. 229–230.
246See for example Al-Takmīl, p. 266, where he gives an example of context clarifying mujmal expressions
in a passage.
247 Added by the editor from Farāhī’s notes to Rasāʾil, p. 225.
248 Al-Takmīl in Rasāʾil, p. 267.
249 Dalāʾil al-Niẓām in Rasāʾil, pp. 89–91.
250 Dalāʾil in Rasāʾil, p. 89.
240
to juzʾī again.251 It is the final stage which is the test of the efficacy and value of naẓm
theory, and this is where a comparative study of the conclusions of this school and the
broader corpus of tafsīr would be instructive. In Chapter 2, I cited the example of
Farāhī reading the injunctions in Q 6:145 and 6:151-153 as a reference to Abrahamic
sharīʿa, rather than laws revealed upon Muḥammad.252 This accords with the putative
ʿamūd of al-Anʿām, which Iṣlāḥī articulates as “inviting Quraysh” to “Islam as the
religion of Abraham”.253 At the very least, this method can be used to select, from
multiple linguistic possibilities, the interpretation most appropriate to the sūra and its
overall purpose.254
Apart from the unifying theme, the other novel feature of naẓm theory concerns
the structure and arrangement of verses. For the most part, these accounts do result in
novel interpretations of individual verses; rather, they often lead to greater appreciation
of the appropriateness of their placement, and, more importantly, their significance.
Mir gives three examples of verses which Watt considered “isolated” from their
contexts, and the explanations given by Iṣlāḥī.255 The first of these is the verse of qiṣāṣ,
or just retribution for murder (2:178). Iṣlāḥī looks at the preceding verses (from 2:163)
as a “Law” section which emphasises, first, the monotheistic faith, then the
inextricable link between faith and ethical behaviour in society (2:177); then the
following two verse-pairs outline rules which ensure respect for human life and
property, respectively.256
251According to Iṣlāḥī, Pondering, 1/33–35, coherence points to emergent properties of the sūra as a
message of guidance, hence making it more than the sum of its parts. The opposite of emergence and
holism is reductionism, but I have used the latter word in a different sense above.
252 Farāhī, Taʿlīqāt, 1/201, 204.
253 Mir, Coherence, p. 86.
Another example from al-Anʿām is Iṣlāḥī’s interpretation of Abraham’s dialogue (see Mir, p. 112),
254
Some naẓm enthusiasts of the present day seem convinced that this
methodology is the future of Quranic hermeneutics and the route to Muslim
renaissance. 257 In my view, its potential is great, but much work remains to be done to
clarify the processes involved.258 I also question the portrayal of coherence-based
exegesis, as sometimes with tafsīr al-Qurʾān bi-l-Qurʾān generally, as an objective
method which will lead to unified results. The chapters of this thesis may serve to place
Farāhī’s school in context and identify issues for further exploration in that method,
and in intraquranic hermeneutics as a whole.
Conclusion
clearly delineated, and the quantitative approach of the citations table (see Appendix)
can be extended or developed for future projects.
Key findings from the case study include the extent of divergence between
opinions of TQQ exegetes, which underscores the subjectivity involved. The works
surveyed tended not to place much emphasis on naskh or qirāʾāt, a point which reflects
some of the individual attitudes of those exegetes, or implications of intraquranic study
more broadly. They did not display a heavy reliance on ḥadīth literature, even those
which represent Prophetic TQQ; some adopted the meaning without citing the report.
Despite some overlap and signs of lineage between the exegetes, for the most part they
operated independently. Future concordances should include these sources which
contain some citations missed by the likes of Paret; more can be found in general tafsīr
works, and all should be classified according to relevance.
It seems that commentaries based on Quranic cross-references have not
presented many conclusions not already found in general tafsīr works – though more
comparison is needed. I propose that some, such as Aḍwāʾ al-Bayān – and similarly
Al-Durr al-Manthūr for narrated exegesis – be considered as thematic collections of
exegesis (i.e. resources for the exegete). Further studies of the various approaches are
needed, and some – such as the contemporaries Iṣlāḥī and Bint al-Shāṭiʾ – have yet to
be studied comparatively, to my knowledge. As for ‘Quranists’, their contributions to
date are limited and unsophisticated, though the convictions of the authors studied led
them to some novel conclusions.
Through the study of exegetes, I gathered some insights into al-Anʿām itself,
such as the prominence of the issue of shirk and some which were less obvious at first,
e.g. the tension between freewill and predestination. An improvement on my case
study approach could give greater attention to the chronological aspect of citations and
consider whether the verses could have had the same explanatory effect at the time of
revelation. Another aspect which requires more expansive study is the use of context
by exegetes in general. My comparative approach allows the methods to come more
clearly into focus.
In terms of theoretical underpinnings of the TQQ endeavour, I summarised
these in the form of four principles: Unity, Consistency, Interpretability and
Authority. Some of these are intuitive and general; hence, rather than an imposed
244
doctrine, TQQ can be seen as an inherent need and logical approach for a corpus
containing unclear and clarifying passages. I identified some inherent tensions
between various principles and theories: between scriptural unity (synchronicity) and
contextual revelation (diachronicity); between consistency and abrogation; between
interpretability and equivocality (tashābuh); and between Quranic authority and
“neediness” for clarification through the Sunna or other external sources. In terms of
exegetical methodology, there is a further tension between reductionist and pluralistic
readings of Quranic passages.
I outlined historical and potential approaches to these tensions, such as a
minimalist approach to asbāb and naskh. Whereas abrogation has often been
exaggerated, the explanations offered concerning specific passages in the Qurʾān, by
those who opposed the idea altogether, are not all convincing. In the end, naskh can be
categorised as a form of TQQ (based on chronology), just as the categories of
muḥkam/mutashābih are the basis of a form of TQQ (based on relative clarity).
Another important conclusion in Chapter 3 was that, while the commonly-cited
examples of Prophetic TQQ provide a mandate to interpret the Qurʾān contextually
and intratextually, they cannot inform methodology and may not be true examples of
TQQ at all.
Regarding methodology, I drew attention to a range of genres (including uṣūl
al-fiqh, lexicography, thematic/comparative studies, and qirāʾāt literature) in which
relevant materials can be found and extracted, beyond the works of tafsīr and uṣūl al-
tafsīr already described. I considered how these various sources can be approached
and what further work is needed to improve and integrate these areas of study. Whereas
uṣūl al-fiqh has historically been the primary domain for Islamic hermeneutical
activity (and overlap with theology, philosophy and linguistics), a generalised
approach would require sensitivity to different genres within the Qurʾān. Therefore,
while uṣūl al-fiqh and uṣūl al-tafsīr overlap where legally significant verses of the
Qurʾān are concerned (including the topics of dalālāt, takhṣīṣ/taqyīd and naskh), each
has a domain of interest distinct from the other. An increased incorporation of uṣūlī
debates may result in further diversity in Quranic exegesis and a clearer delineation
between hermeneutical “schools”.
245
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Appendix
Qurʾān Citations in al-Anʿām Commentaries
Verse Phrase Parallels Evidence Remarks
1 al-nūr (singular) 153, 16:48
11 (3:137,
7:84/86,
10:39/73,
28:58 etc.)
12 question & response 13:16 Muqātil cites reading
of Ubayy/Ibn Masʿūd
mercy 54, 21:107
akinna 37:49
8:31, 16:24
asāṭīr (25:5)
26 None noted.
27 7:53, 23:99- 32:12, 35:37
100
28 manifest 39:37-38,
45:33, 50:22
used to hide 23 / 17:102,
27:14 / 29:11
divine knowledge 9:47, 23:75
29 See Paret, Dakake.
30 46:34, 52:15 2:174
31 164 93, 31:34,
39:15
32 7:169-170 24:37, 34:13
33 grief 18:7, 26:3, 35:8 5:68, 18:6, 26:3
messengers 41:43 90
35 demand 17:90-93
prohibition 53 / 68:2-4
36 hearing/deafness 122, 27:80-81 39, 2:171,
32:12
lawlā 63:10
44 7:94-95/182-
183 Ṭabarī narrates that
Ibn Zayd compared
forgot 5:13-14, 7:165 mublis here with
mustakīn in the
open doors 35:2 similar verse.
mublis 23:76
45 69:8 (23:28), 30:41 The expression qaṭʿ
al-dābir is in 7:72, 8:7,
15:66 (Dakake).
46 67:33 / 8:24,
10:31
35:3
47 7:165, 16:45-
47
ẓulm 82
48 7:35 43:59
49 None noted.
50 11:31
264
17:100, 35:2 /
khazāʾin 15:21, 36:82
3:44, 11:49,
unseen 12:102, 72:26-
27
7:187,
not angel 41:14 17:51/90-93,
25:7-8 / 18:110
56
what follow
mercy 7:156
rejection 21:3-5
hastening
265
below 5:66
21:93-97,
intranecine war 30:31-32,
59:14
266
drink 56:93
71 46:17 Muqātil says both
refer to ʿAbd al-
no benefit or harm 7:188, 72:21- Raḥmān b. Abī Bakr2
22
istihwāʾ 14:37
2 Wrongly referenced to 21:67 in printed editions. See Saleh, ‘Rereading al-Ṭabarī,’ p. 196 for the
contrasting approaches of Ṭabarī and Māturīdī re: this charge against a companion.
267
34:9 / 3:26,
5:120, 7:185,
36:83, 67:1-3
security 41:30
83 darajāt 58:11 Dakake suggests 165,
2:253 and 4:96 as
alternative parallels;
no mention of 132.
all-knowing 10:96-97
84 Isaac and Jacob 11:71, 19:49,
37:112
thus We reward 2:257
85 Paret cites 2:130 to
explain min al-ṣāliḥīn
in terms of the
Hereafter
86 al-Yasaʿ 38:48
87 a straight path 1:6-7 3:19, 21:25/92,
30:30, 42:13
88 guidance 2:85, 4:150-
151, 28:50,
42:13
today 23:100
forgery 140
113 150, 37:161-
163, 51:8-9
gains 9:34
114 10:35, 40:20
271
20, 10:94,
those given al-kitāb 28:52 / 2:146 /
34:6
72:26-28 (cf.
bi-l-ḥaqq 26:221-223)
12:108
prohibition
115 tammat 20, 114, 2:129,
7:157, 42:13,
61:8-9
ʿadl 7:157
kadhālika 13:17
272
al-samāʾ 14:24
reward 7:43
128 123
91:14 / 35:24,
46:29
131 4:165, 5:19,
16:36, 17:15,
28:59, 35:24
(11:117)
bi-ẓulm 31:13
132 46:19
to each 7:38, 16:88
degrees 17:21
133 4:133, 35:15-
17, 47:38
134 56:60
135 28:37 / 14:13- 106, 18:29
14, 21:105,
24:55, 40:51-
52, 58:20
makāna 36:67
invent 7:28
138 5:103, 7:28,
10:59
139 waṣf 16:62/116
140 forgery 112, 10:69-70
141 147, 68:17-33 Shinqīṭī states Sunna
is needed to
isrāf 25:67, 17:26-27 “complete” the ruling;
/ 7:31 some consider it
abrogated.
274
dirāsa 7:169
157 35:42
bayyina 98:1-2
hudan/raḥma 2:2
torment 20:124
158 2:210, 16:33,
89:22