Verified Solutions to Modern Intellectual Anxieties
بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمنِ الرَّحِيمِ
وَالصَّلَاةُ وَالسَّلَامُ عَلَى رَسُولِهِ الْكَرِيمِ وَعَلَى آلِهِ وَصَحْبِهِ أَجْمَعِينَ
Days ago, I concluded a one-hour conversation with a student of Khairabadi Institute, who shared some objections made against the Khairabādī-Farangī Maḥallī methodology of teaching. The core of the argument was its supposed irrelevance and the claim that it has been eclipsed by superior methods, rendering this pedagogical framework obsolete. Thankfully, the objections and their corresponding responses, along with related discussions, have been thoroughly documented, and I now present them to you.
Understanding the Nature of these Objections
To begin with, I want to provide some context regarding why some people may object to the Khairabādī/Farangī Mahallī pedagogical framework of imparting knowledge. There are various reasons for this. For one, some people are simply ignorant of what pre-colonial learning methodologies entail, and people often oppose what they are unfamiliar with.
At times, the Khairabādī method is downplayed because people misunderstand it, make assumptions, and construct a strawman argument to criticise. For example, someone might claim that this approach is a waste of time, spending three hours commenting on the Basmalah without progressing through the book. Such claims are based on assumptions.
Other times, people may understand the methodology but, because they do not come from that mode of learning, may feel threatened by it. They might downplay it by claiming that it is merely suited for a particular audience interested in deep conceptual understanding, whereas their own approach focuses on completing books, teaching the science, and moving on.
Some, feeling even more threatened, might go so far as to dismiss the Khairabādī method entirely, claiming that it falls below the standards of their own methodologies. They might argue that it is irrelevant to our times and that better approaches are now available, which is why this method has supposedly died out.
This provides some context to the arguments presented against a teaching style that, at its core, was unanimously practised—at least in its foundational principles—by all the early traditions followed by today’s teachers.
Dars-i Niẓāmī: A Culmination of Centuries of Refinement
Looking to the past, the Muslim world has, for centuries, produced great scholars of the ʿaqlī tradition. These include figures such as ʿAllāmah Fatḥullāh Shirāzī, Sharīf Jurjānī and his teacher Imām al-Ījī, Imām Rāzī, Imām Ghazālī, and of course, the founder of the Ashaʿrī school of kalām, Imām Abū al-Ḥasan al-Ashʿarī. These scholars contributed extensively to the ʿaqlī tradition and many other fields as well.
Their works went through generations of refinement, and not only did they write these works, but they also taught them. Thus, we see masters of knowledge in the classical period who authored monumental works and taught them aswell.
Many of them wrote commentaries and glosses, which were not only independent intellectual contributions but also reflections of their taqārīr—their lectures and explanations of these texts, because they were essentially teaching them aswell. These teaching methods and texts were passed down through the ages and underwent refinement generation after generation, culminating in what is often referred to as the late classical age. Some may describe this period as the post-classical age, but I prefer to view it as a continuation of classicalism—a later stage in the ongoing trajectory of intellectual refinement.
In this era, we see the emergence of the scholars of the Farangī Maḥall who developed the original Dars-i Niẓāmī curriculum. However, they did not arise in a vacuum. The namesake, Mullā Niẓām al-Dīn Sihālwī was actually building upon centuries of intellectual tradition before him. This is similar to how the Ottomans are named after ʿUthmān Ghāzī. The success of his turkic ancestry apexed in his age, but his period of influence was essentially fueled by the sacrifices and groundwork laid by his father, grandfather, and earlier generations.
Before Mullā Niẓām al-Dīn, there was his father Mullā Quṭb-ud-Dīn al-Shahīd, who was deeply immersed in the methodologies passed down through various eras. He essentially received this intellectual tradition through figures like ʿAllāmah Fatḥullah Shirāzī, who had come to India a few generations earlier.
At one point, there was a feud between two families in India, one of which was the Ayyubid family. Tragically, Mullā Quṭb-ud-Dīn, though not involved in the feud, was martyred by members of the other family. This grieved Sulṭān Aurangzeb ʿAlamgīr, who regarded Mullā Quṭb-ud-Dīn as one of India’s greatest scholars. To honour him, Aurangzeb gifted his children a palace in Lucknow to reside in.
These brothers, the sons of a scholar deeply rooted in generations of robust tradition, transformed the gifted palace into Dār al-ʿIlm w’al-ʿAmal—the Farangī Maḥall.
Dars-i Niẓāmī: A Philosophy, Not Just a Curriculum
It is important to understand what Mullā Niẓām al-Dīn aimed to achieve with this centre and curriculum. His goal was to equip scholars with every tool necessary to access the entire breadth of the intellectual tradition. This would enable them not only to engage deeply with the sciences but also to contribute to them and address the pressing issues of their time, much like scholars such as Imām Ghazālī once did.
This curriculum ultimately gave rise to the school of Khairabād, which adopted the underlying philosophy—not just a syllabus—and produced groundbreaking research in fields such as logic and other sciences. This intellectual legacy earned Imām Fazl-i Ḥaq Khairabādī the title al-Muʿallim al-Rābiʿ (the fourth teacher), following the positions of Ibn Sīnā, Fārābī and Aristotle.
So, how did Mullā Niẓām al-Dīn achieve this? He incorporated two of the most challenging books in each science into the syllabus. Why? Because if a student, using the methodologies of the authors of those books, could master them, then every other book on that subject would become accessible to them.
To illustrate this through my own early experiences as a student of this pedagogical method, I recall studying Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id al-Nasafiyyah with our teacher. After concluding a section of the book using the classical methodology of teaching, he introduced us to a few passages from Ibn Sīnā’s al-Shifā’ on the same topic. He asked us to prepare those passages for the next lesson, intending to practically demonstrate how these time-tested models of learning unlock other works in the library.
Despite it being our first exposure to al-Shifāʾ, upon reading those sections, we not only gained a complete understanding but also found ourselves capable of teaching them to others, if required. My dear friend Mawlānā Shams Tameez can attest to this, as he was assigned the task of teaching those passages to the class the following day. Remarkably, this achievement came despite al-Shifāʾ being written approximately 300 years before Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id al-Nasafiyyah.
Incorporating two of the most challenging books does not mean that students bypassed the process of academic growth. Not at all. They began with foundational works and then progressed to intermediate texts—many of which are now considered advanced—covering all subjects from beginning to end. They gradually built themselves up until they had a solid grasp of each discipline.
Even these foundational and intermediate works were carefully selected. They came from the tradition and were known to impart the subject to students effectively, these too were imparted using established teaching methodologies.
Students engaged in rigorous exercises to unlock the keys of knowledge. Each book in the syllabus was marbūṭ—linked to other texts being taught simultaneously, as well as to those studied before and those that followed. Each book acted as a key to unlock a particular door.
If a student could successfully navigate this syllabus using the methodologies required for each book—methodologies grounded in the authors' own approaches to imparting knowledge via their books and writing—they would emerge ready to access virtually any text they wished. From that point onward, it was up to the student to delve into the vast array of books and develop their own research.
The seminary’s role, however, was complete: it had provided the student with everything needed to access the works of Shaykh Ibn ʿArabī, Imām Rāzī, and virtually any text found in the libraries of the Islamic world.
Dars-i Niẓāmī Syllabus: Then and Now
People often ask what that remarkable syllabus looked like. We are currently working on presenting it at Khairabadi Institute. However, what might surprise you is that we respond by asking: which version of the syllabus do you want to see? When we move forward to the period of the Khairabādīs, they introduced a syllabus that became known as the Khairabādī curriculum.
An objection arises here: if the Khairabādīs could add books and essentially modify the syllabus, then what’s wrong with making modifications today—whether under the name of Dars-i Niẓāmī or any other late-classical curriculum? The answer lies in the fact that the Khairabādī additions did not undermine the philosophy of the syllabus. Instead, they refined it, further developing a model that upheld everything the Farangī Maḥallīs offered—and more.
The key is understanding that the curriculum was never just a set of books; it was a philosophy, a manhaj al-ʿilm. It didn’t emerge in isolation but was the culmination of centuries of scholarship and teaching methodologies, which found expression in these two traditions of the Farangī Maḥall and Khairabād. This approach eventually spread throughout South Asia, especially among Sunnī traditions, all of which are recipients of these methods and philosophies.
Some seminaries upheld more principles of the early period, while others retained less. The strongest seminaries, however, remain those that resonate most with what was passed down from the founders.
Understanding the Khairabādī Pedagogical Framework
Now, a question is asked: what is this Khairabādī method, style of teaching, or pedagogy? Some people react as if it’s something alien. It’s not. It is simply a method that truly does justice to the book in the hands of the student.
Students, depending on the level of the book they are studying, undergo training that reveals keys, imparts the science, equips them with the ability to teach, engage with similar material independently, and read everything within the same genre. Ultimately, this approach provides students with everything they need to one day contribute to the subject themselves.
A student would begin by pre-studying the assigned passages. He would apply every skill and piece of knowledge he had acquired from previous texts, using each discipline—ṣarf, naḥw, manṭiq, uṣūl, and more—to analyse the text. He would dissect the Arabic, engaging in Khairabādī analytical chain analysis to trace every word back to its grammatical and morphological roots as taught in earlier lessons. He would identify logical points, principles of Uṣūl al-Fiqh, and other relevant concepts. Additionally, he would engage with commentaries and glosses, preparing the text as though he were going to teach it himself the next day.
After this rigorous pre-study, it might be that he only grasped 40% of the passages. This was acceptable because the next day, he would sit before his Khairabādī teacher—an inheritor of South Asia’s scholarly tradition of the Farangī Maḥall. The teacher would deliver a taqrīr (explanatory discourse) on the text, which traced its lineage back, chest to chest, often to the original authors. Each teacher could make unique additions, but the goal was to convey the deeper meanings of the text. The taqrīr served as a concise and digestible representation of the author's intent and content, presented to the student in a way they could absorb.
The teacher wouldn’t simply translate the text upon completion of the taqrīr but would connect every element of the taqrīr back to the text itself. For example, when encountering a ḍamīr (pronoun), the teacher might say, “This part of my taqrīr corresponds to this ḍamīr.” Elsewhere, he might point out, “This line reflects the answer to the objection I presented in my taqrīr,” and so on. The lesson served to solidify the student’s understanding, allowing him to address the 60% he had not yet understood.
The student would then memorise the taqrīr, integrate it into the text, and rehearse it four to five times until it became second nature. The taqrīr was preserved for future reference, and the process would begin again the next day with the next set of passages. Through this method, the student’s academic growth progressed incrementally—45%, 50%, and so on—until, eventually, gaps in understanding would close entirely.
One day, the student would pre-study a passage, attend the class, and the teacher would deliver the exact taqrīr the student had prepared beforehand. At this point of explaining this process to us, my Khairabādī teacher said, “Now (this student) he is a Molwī.” This marked the moment the student was ready to enter the maydān (field) independently, capable of engaging with knowledge and tackling intellectual issues.
These traditional methods were refined and passed down through generations, with undeniable results. Advanced students could reach a stage where the Khairabādī instructor would select a book of his choice—such as Mullā Jāmī—and ask the students to prepare and teach it. These students, having never read or studied the book before, would pre-study it independently. The next day, they would deliver the taqrīr to their teacher, who would then correct any weaknesses in their explanatory discourse. This practice would continue throughout the year, during their final stages of study.
This ability and intellectual sharpness on the part of advanced students in this system is unquestionable, given that from the very beginning of their studies, the teacher would not proceed to the next lesson—whether in Kubrā for logic or Naḥw Mir for grammar—until the student could repeat the entire lesson back to the teacher verbatim.
Do Classical Teaching Pedagogies Fail to Complete Books in the Curriculum?
It should not be assumed that these curricula fail to complete books—this could not be further from the truth. Works, especially at the beginner and intermediate levels, are studied cover to cover. What was considered intermediate in that tradition would today be classified as higher-advanced in modern curricula.
It is only when students reached the advanced texts in the funūn (sciences) in their curriculum—texts and subjects that are often entirely absent from modern syllabi—that the approach changed. At this stage, texts were taught up to points designated by teachers over generations, often referred to as a tadrīsī maqām. These teachers determined that if a student studied a text using the classical teaching methodology up to these designated points, they would not only gain access to the rest of the book and others in its genre, but would also develop the ability to teach them as well.
Those who criticise the fact that some of these works are not studied cover to cover have simply not engaged in their study. Had they done so, they would realise that certain books when taught properly could take more than four-five years to complete fully under a teacher. For example, my class studied Allāmah al-Taftāzānī’s Mukhtaṣar al-Maʿānī with our teacher approximately 4–5 days a week over nearly two years, and we only completed around half of the book in that time, needless to say that this work served as an abridgment to Allāmah al-Taftāzānī’s Muṭawwal in rhetoric.
A proper study of these works ensures that a student not only understands the remainder but is also capable of teaching it if required. While the rules of rhetoric can be learned through primers, the objectives of Mukhtaṣar al-Maʿānī are multifaceted, aiming to foster the student’s intellectual growth in multiple ways.
The Khairbādī Method is Universal Across all Early Traditions
I want to emphasise that, although the Khairabādī and Farangī Maḥall traditions have their unique elements and have made remarkable contributions to the sciences, these methodologies, books, and scholars are universal among all pre-colonial traditions. For example, these methodologies of imparting knowledge are similar to those found in the Ottoman tradition, the traditions of West Africa, and the Kurdish traditions.
In all these traditions, you will find the same core books being taught. At times, the commentaries studied alongside the books in the syllabus might differ—for instance, the Ottomans might teach a commentary authored by an Ottoman scholar, while the Kurds might teach one authored by a Kurd. However, the methodologies for imparting the meanings of these books were always reflective of the books and the authors themselves.
A Khairabādī taqrīr on Ḥāshiya al-Khayālī, for example, would align closely with the content and style of this gloss. The gloss’s style of writing and explanation preserved the classical method of how scholars intended a book to be understood and how the science should be approached.
My dear friend Mawlānā Shams Tameez studied Mullā Jāmī with a Turkish scholar who was an inheritor of the Ottoman tradition and he remarked that the taqrīr was reflective of the Niẓamī style of teaching. Isn’t it remarkable? Two distinct traditions teaching the same book in the same way. Why? Because their chains trace back to the same teachers, the same methodologies, and the same books.
A person who claims that these methods are now irrelevant due to newer approaches must be asked to present those methods so that we may compare their results to the scholarship produced by the Ottomans or the Khairabādīs. The recipients of these traditions contributed significantly to the sciences, and their glosses were subsequently added to the classical syllabus. They were able to produce works that adhered to the same manhaj al-ʿilm (methodology of knowledge), that when studied by students, unlocked for them the skills necessary to become erudite scholars.
The Issue with Simplification and Revision in Classical Curricula
Those who argue that these methodologies are irrelevant are often the same people who call for an overhaul of the tradition itself. For instance, someone who dislikes the methodology used to teach Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id will likely oppose the inclusion of Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id in the syllabus altogether. The commentary offered by a traditional teacher of Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id mirrors the commentary within the book itself. The objectives highlighted by ʿAllāmah al-Taftāzānī in his text are the same ones emphasised by Khairabādī or Ottoman teachers when teaching it to students. There is nothing extraneous added—except for the deeper meanings that ʿAllāmah al-Taftāzānī himself intended in his commentary but did not explicitly write in order to maintain brevity.
These deeper points were expected by authors to be conveyed by a teacher during instruction, and a Khairabādī teacher would beautifully elaborate on them in a taqrīr. Thus, how can this methodology be deemed wrong—unless one no longer wishes to include Sharḥ al-ʿAqāʾid and its like in the syllabus?
The truth is, many prefer revised books and modern teaching methods. But what’s the issue with this? There are many. A revised book that is simplified and easy to read as an introduction to a text is one thing, however, an advanced revised text, say in kalām, raises questions about its utility. Yes, a student might be able to access that one book, which is beneficial. But the problem lies here: the student would now lack the skills required to access the thousand-year tradition of kalām works, which were written in a particular style that necessitates a specific methodology to unlock and truly understand them. This applies not only to kalām but to other subjects as well.
Furthermore, as one begins to read more advanced works, there is an expectation that the reader is conversant with the terminology, concepts, proofs, and differences of opinion within and across the sciences. Even if aspects of a particular science are no longer the main paradigm in modernity (such as Avicennan natural philosophy), there is still the need to know the language of that science to understand how scholars engaged with discussions in other disciplines.
The Rise of the Qirā’ah Method in Teaching Classical Texts
The idea of teaching classical texts by simply reading through them (qirāʾah) with basic translations and brief clarifications does little to help a student truly understand these works, let alone equip them to impart that knowledge to others. Yes, the student might grasp a surface-level understanding of the text, but they would only have partial access to that one book. They would not acquire the skills necessary to unlock the meanings of other works within the same genre.
Take, for example, al-Kāfiyah by ʿAllāmah Ibn Ḥājib. This book goes beyond surface-level translations; there is a deeper intent behind it. It's often said that al-Kāfiyah in naḥw isn’t about naḥw in the conventional sense. This is why the author of Hidāyat al-Naḥw extracted the foundational naḥw and presented it more clearly in his own work. So, what was the purpose of al-Kāfiyah then? Its aim was to develop crucial skills such as advanced research ability, employing the highest levels of naḥw to unravel meanings, and fostering critical analysis.
We are not claiming that everyone today teaches at surface level, but we are highlighting that such methodologies will give a student access to 10, maybe 15 books, and they will not be able to work beyond that. This is the true meaning of the urdu proverb ‘laqīr ka faqīr’.
What then can be said about the scholars we are developing? They need the ability to traverse the libraries of Islām in order to become erudite scholars, ready to address any issue that may come their way.
The Consequences of Abandoning Verified Teaching Methodologies
The implications of abandoning teaching methodologies that have been tested, verified, and refined over centuries leads to abandoning the books in the syllabus. This is because methodologies are the key through which such works open up to the reader. It is only after training in these methodologies that one can truly access the tradition. The truth is, works in the intellectual tradition like Mīr Zāhid Umūr ʿĀmmāh (a gloss on Sharḥ Mawāqif’s Umūr ʿĀmmāh section) and others, or even Sharḥ Mawāqif itself, are not easily accessible to most people. Much interest is found in these works, a lot is written on them, passages are translated and presented, and some sections may be included in dissertations or books. However, fundamental, unrestricted access to these works is rarely seen in the post-modern world.
This causes people to work in a vacuum, disconnected from a verified methodology, lacking access to it, and relying on whatever they can get their hands on that makes sense to them, while applying their own insights according to their level of understanding. This, then, reflects the general decline in intellectual ability among us.
Consider an additional consequence. We have already established that by being disconnected from the broader intellectual tradition due to lacking knowledge in the technical discourses that form the prerequisites for accessing advanced texts, a person is essentially isolating themselves from a deep and analytical scholarly conversation that spans centuries and continents. If someone read a text and wanted to assess their own analytical ability, depth of understanding, and knowledge of a subject, they could, before reading an advanced commentary, record their own position with supporting arguments. Then, with the ability to access advanced commentary literature, they could determine whether their position had been found in the analyses of any past scholars and if it was, whether or not there were objections raised in the commentary literature.
By reading, ‘testing’ oneself, and then checking one’s understanding with classical commentary literature, one is effectively able to enhance their own abilities by taking part in these centuries-long discourses themselves. At this point it is even possible that they contribute original points of view that encourage further discussion.
Critiquing Calls for Revamping the Classical Curriculum
Another objection that is made against the late classical tradition is that some of the books are outdated and need a revamp. This objection, like the previous one, requires not only separate papers to address but entire books to fully grasp the context of the responses. However, I will offer some food for thought here.
This fundamental objection arises from inexperience with the higher echelons of the tradition and a lack of understanding about the objectives behind their inclusion in the curriculum in the first place. To explain further, let us take the books of falsafah as an example. A person might argue that the ṭabʿīyāt (natural philosophy) sections of these books are outdated and that we need a modern physics book in the syllabus in its place.
The question could then be asked: why would we need a physics book in a traditional system designed to develop scholars? The purpose of premodern physics in the syllabus was, in fact, to prepare a student for the sections on ilāhīyāt and metaphysics—understanding the principles of the philosophers in order to refute them and defend Islām.
These kinds of subjects for students also bring immense benefit in the form of being a particular kind of language. Books across all subjects incorporated this language, and without falsafah, one would struggle to understand the al-Musāyārah in kalām, Mukhtaṣar al-Maʿānī in rhetoric, or even Imām Rāzī’s Tafsīr in exegesis. Even basic things, like examples of authors to explain concepts, would be out of reach. For instance, how Imām Ibn al-Humām uses the example of Dawrāt al-Aflāk (cycles of the celestial spheres) according to the philosophers to explain another concept entirely.
When considering this from another perspective, how would someone envision replacing a method and curriculum and what would take its place? Fundamentally, the Khairabādī method provides a way for students to access texts across more than a millennium of Islāmic scholarship. In those texts will be scholarly discourses that not only provide the arguments of a particular scholar, but anticipate counter arguments and provide pre-emptive responses. When these discussions are then reviewed, analysed, and expanded on, this forms a well-thought out, nuanced, and intellectually powerful system of thought that can be adapted by a capable student to address the issues of today.
Now compare that with someone who calls for full curriculum and methodological reform. Their method does not enable a student to access advanced texts with sufficient contextual knowledge to adapt the arguments they find therein for the modern age. Fundamentally, advocates of such reform are suggesting something similar to the Salafī Daʿwah–abandoning over a millennium of scholarship that is traced to the Salaf for modern false-Mujtahids who are methodologically inconsistent. What the Khairabādī method enables is intellectual fluency for furthering scholarly engagement.
Someone might respond that the Khairabādī method enables students to be muqallids, particularly in maʿqūlāt, that repeat centuries old arguments without contributing original thought of their own. To respond to that assertion consider the following: just because an argument is old, does not mean it is a bad argument. Furthermore, the quality of original thought will be greatly enhanced by seeing a wider breadth of scholarly engagement on a particular topic instead of willfully remaining ignorant of that discourse.
Finally, we are not even advocating that contemporary scholarship needs to agree with classical scholarship on every tertiary issue where there is scope for a difference of opinion. What we are arguing, however, is that willful blindness to classical scholarship will mean ignorance of varying opinions.
The Push to Revive Through Western Modern Methods: A Final Colonial Project
Colonialism has had a profound effect on our psyche, impacting us much more than we realise. Before the advent of colonialism, it has been assumed that the decline of intellectualism in the Muslim world reached its peak, naturally resulting in the defeat at the hands of the colonisers. However, there was no such decline to begin with, never mind the peaking! The tradition was successfully producing great minds and works. Even at the dawn of colonialism, works written in our tradition would go beyond the comprehension of most learned individuals today.
We went through a 200-300 year period of upheaval and then emerged on the other side. There were calls to revive the tradition, but due to the influence of colonialism, some of these calls were rooted in the need to adopt modern methods, and at times modernity itself, in order to revive the classical. A more extreme example of working out of a vacuum would be the likes of the Aligarh movement in India, which called for tradition but was disconnected from it, its methods and books. The result, in this extreme case, was the denial of fundamental principles of the religion itself.
Others were not as extreme, of course, but the need to use modern methods to revive a classical tradition led to the transformation of great institutions of learning into modern universities, complete with lecture halls and examination systems. When the great Jāmiʿa al-Azhar adopted the Western style of examination systems, the scholars of Cairo protested in the streets, reflecting their understanding of reversal rather than progression.
A problem arises here. We don’t say that people in the modern world don’t work intellectually hard; many of them exert levels of effort that are enviable. But at the same time we don’t see a Ghazālī, Rāzī, or even a Khairabādī. This also led some to adopt the modern Western approach of criticising past scholars, believing that they are capable enough to challenge them and their ideas while not even knowing how to read the titles of their books. Some argued, "We study hard, we exert effort, and yet we aren’t a fraction of what they tell us about Imām Ghazālī; they must have overemphasised his status." This gave rise to Orientalist imitators in the Muslim world, who themselves are without the foundational prerequisites to stand on their own.
One might wonder how we got to this point. As the materialist philosophies that encompassed the ‘capitalist’ West and the communist bloc spread across the world, their enablers sought not only to spread these ideologies in their original forms but also exert influence through methods both overt and covert. What they did was construct a false dichotomy: modernity with science & technology and its reformist advocates, or the anti-intellectualism promoted by those who call for the abandoning the schools of kalām, the schools of fiqh, and the schools of taṣawwuf. As a result, subjects that connected many disciplines and discussed metaphysics (such as philosophical ṣūfism) were no longer studied and eventually critiqued by some. This led to systemic effects where many abandoned the verified views of past scholarship in ontology and epistemology. This would then lead to abandoning verified methods of pedagogy as well. The end result is an attempted synthesis of modernity and initially anti-intellectual currents that led to phenomena like Taymiyyan kalām (which rarely if ever gets termed ‘outdated’) while ignoring intellectual giants such as Sharīf Jurjānī, Mīr Zāhid, and Ibn al-Humām.
Addressing the Assumptation That Classical Curricula Cause Modern Stagnation
What we are arguing is that we don’t reject the idea of a modern Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id al-Nasafiyyah per se with a continuation of the arguments in defence of Islamic fundamentals, but it must be rooted in, based upon, and continued from the tested scholarly methodology we discussed so far—not independent of it. After all, modern philosophies are rooted in classical philosophical principles that have already been addressed by works like the Sharḥ al-ʿAqā’id.
This rootedness, will ensure strength in whatever we endeavour to do, and such people will clearly stand out from the rest. An example of this in the modern world is my dear brother, Shaykh Hasan Spiker, who is rooted in a 10-year late classical curriculum of the Kurdish tradition. His refutations of Kant or addressing other issues in the modern world can rely on the tradition, which guides on how to navigate these arguments.
Moreover, deeply understanding the roots of such philosophies and their millennium-old rebuttals can anchor a person firmly to continue that trajectory forward in the modern world. I believe this cannot be achieved with clear accuracy unless one is rooted in the classical traditions. Many people today, who work out of a vacuum due to a lack of access to those traditions and methods of accessing them, often fall prey to serious mistakes.
Reconnecting With Our Pre-Colonial Past: A Crucial Step to Move Forward
We say, let us set aside the last few centuries of colonialism and reconnect with the scholars, books, and methodologies that were present at the dawn of colonisation. (This isn’t to say we disregard the Sunnī scholars through the colonial period, as it is through them that we received this tradition; they are fundamentally a part of it.) By establishing a connection with them, we can move forward into the modern world. This will have a profound impact on the true revival of the Islamic sciences.
There needs to be a revival, and I can sense it is coming closer than ever. Students of knowledge are seeking something deeper than surface-level studies. What we propose is to allow this natural quest for deeper meaning to unfold and not stop the wave if you won’t be a part of it.
Upholding Traditional Teaching Methods in the Modern World
At Khairabadi Institute, we are dedicated to preserving and upholding the classical methodology of teaching. We firmly believe that this approach to imparting classical curricular works is essential for achieving the intellectual refinement that students so earnestly seek.
Teaching in the online space comes with its own set of challenges. For us, an additional challenge was ensuring that we did not compromise on our principles. Our team worked tirelessly to develop an online teaching methodology that remains true to the Khairabādī tradition. This new path to online Islamic education has allowed us to maintain the integrity of the Khairabādī pedagogy. All our future programmes will be delivered in this innovative approach which preserves our values—including the upcoming al-Musayārah programme in January 2025. Inshā’Allāh.
Learn more about it now: https://www.khairabadiinstitute.com/musayarah
Muhammad Mubashir Iqbal—Founder of Khairabadi Institute
*Sincere gratitude to one of the brothers from the Khairabadi Institute team for editing this paper and offering his valuable suggestions.
