The Intellectual Deficit: Why Faith Needs Reason

 The Intellectual Deficit: Why Faith Needs Reason

May 10, 2026

Excerpted from my Quran, Hadith, And Hikayat:  Exercises In Critical Thinking (2021)

“The only way that Muslims can remain true to the moral message of [our] religion and at the same time discharge [our] covenant with God is through introspective self-criticism and reform.”

 Khaled Abou El Fadl, The Great Theft

The Trap of Intellectual Mimicry

An American Muslim professor related his experience teaching philosophy at Qatar University. He attempted to teach critical thinking using the prescribed American textbook. The results were predictable and disastrous. His Arab students, disconnected from the reality of its American context of racial politics and affirmative action for example, simply regurgitated the talking points of American pundits. Those students were not thinking; they were performing. They were merely aping Western commentators.

It was only when he forced his students to abandon imported narratives and instead analyze their own backyard—the politics of oil, local social dynamics, and regional realities, for example—that the lightbulb finally switched on in them. By forcing them to confront issues for which no pre-packaged answers existed, he compelled them to actually think. Years later, he could produce a textbook borne not of borrowed theories and examples, but of genuine, indigenous engagement.

We must be aware of the many implicit assumptions grounded as they are in a particular era, culture, and environment. Consider the timeless legend of Hikayat Hang Tuah. For generations we have been told or indoctrinated that the eponymous Tuah is the unquestioned hero. It took the anti-hero milieu and sentiments of the 1950s and 60s era for writer Kassim Ahmad on reading the same classic text to give a radically different reading. To Kassim, Tuah was but a palace sycophant doing the sultan’s bidding while taking some libertine liberties with the palace concubines. The true hero, hitherto considered a traitor, was Hang Jebat, Tuah’s nemesis.

Same text; radically different interpretation. That is my rationale for using such familiar texts as the Qur’an, Hadith, and Malay folklores as exercises in critical thinking. We must stop importing intellectual frameworks and start building our own.

Myth of the “Complete” Text

In Malaysia, as elsewhere in the Muslim world, even to suggest that critical thinking has a place in religious discourse is often treated as a radical, if not heretical proposition. The prevailing dogma is that the Qur’an is “complete,” self-explanatory, and beyond the need for human reasoning.

However, if we do not apply our critical faculties, we cannot fully comprehend the text; we merely consume it. The Qur’an repeatedly exhorts us to use our reason, akal, intellect. It is the divine gift that separates us from animals. By neglecting akal we are not showing our appreciation of His unique gift. On the contrary, we are being ungrateful.

Ancient scholars did not view the Qur’an as a wall that stopped their further inquiry; they viewed it as the starting point. Hence their prolific, original scholarships. Contrast that with the present where we substitute genuine inquiry with endless, mindless regurgitations of centuries-old texts and opinions.

Prophet, s.a.w., Not A Mere Human Fax Machine

To Muslims, the Qur’an is the revelation from God, a guide for all mankind, at all times, and till the end of time. Let us examine the mechanics of this divine transmission. Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w.) was not an emotionless, mechanical conduit for divine dictation, a mere human fax machine as it were. Instead, he was conveying the universal divine message in a specific language, to a specific people, during a precise period, and in a particular culture.

He used various known techniques as with tonal variations, facial expressions, body language, and context to spread the word. Those were the essential tools that allowed his companions to grasp the nuances of the divine message he was delivering. When we rely solely on the written text, stripped of the original context and prompts, we are looking only at a shadow of the underlying universal truth.

Even then there could be variations. There are at least seven accepted variations of reciting (or oral versions of) the Qur’an, each carrying different shades of meaning. Words evolve with time, place, and culture. For example, the connotation of “innovation” in the 7th century is not what it is today. To ignore these layers of complexity is to invite a shallow, stagnant understanding of our faith.

Interpreting the Interpreters

If readers find my exhortation to exercise critical faculties when reading religious texts offensive and sacrilegious, I offer this clarification: I am not criticizing the Qur’an, only its interpreters, contemporary as well as ancients.

Those early luminaries were brilliant. They had done their part and we owe them a huge debt of gratitude for their voluminous contributions. But they were humans thus not infallible.

If we were to apply the same logic to modern medicine that we apply to our religious scholarship, that is, clinging to the rigid authorities of the past, we would still be using leeches today. We respect our ancestors by building upon their foundation, not by turning their conclusions into a prison for our own minds. We must be open to new insights, for the covenant with God requires a living, breathing intellect, not a library of stale, unexamined dogma.