The knowledge brought to us by the Prophet ﷺ remains preserved, accessible, and dynamically fruitful for us today in both word and meaning. For the purpose of transmission and reception (talaqqī) of divine knowledge, the Prophet ﷺ instituted two methods of instruction: oral and written. The Prophet ﷺ himself was “unlettered”, and this attribute highlights the pure and direct link to divine knowledge. At the same time, the Prophet ﷺ endorsed the written tradition, for both recited and unrecited waḥy. That being said, the primary method of transmission and reception has and always will remain the oral tradition. Cosmologically, the ʿulamāʾ mention that the written word indicates, signifies, and points to the spoken word. This further speaks to the primacy of the former method. In Sūrat al-ʿAnkabūt, Allah states, “rather it [consists] of āyāt in the chests of those given knowledge…” This āyah highlights the correct method for the transmission and reception of Divine knowledge. Moreover, as the final and universal dīn, our dīn comprises both the oral – which is the primary – and the written – which is the secondary – tradition. In fact, whenever Allah communicated His intent to Mankind, he used the institution of Prophethood – a human institution. All ambiyāʾ (upon them all salām) received waḥy, but not all ambiyāʾ received scripture, and not all ambiyāʾ who received scripture received it by way of the written script. The first sūrah in the Qurʾān, Sūrat al-Fātiḥah, contains the āyahs: Guide us to the straight path, the path of those whom you have blessed… This further emphasizes the primacy of the oral tradition in that we ask for the guidance to the path that is attributed to a select group of human beings.
One of the descriptions that the Qurʾān mentions for the Prophet ﷺ is sirāj munīr (illuminating lamp). Some ʿulamāʾ state that one manifestation of this is that the Prophet ﷺ is like a lamp that lights up other lamps, who, in turn, light up other lamps. In other words, the nūr of the Prophet ﷺ is transferred through the institution of ṣuḥbah (companionship). All of this demonstrates that knowledge is acquired primarily through the oral tradition, in the ṣuḥbah of one’s teacher. In fact, the Ṣaḥābah are named as such due to this very reason. “Muḥammad is the Messenger of Allah; and those with him…” This āyah uses the word “maʿa” – the defining characteristic of the Ṣaḥābah, that they are those who are with the Prophet ﷺ.
So, what purpose does the written tradition serve, then? The purpose of the written tradition is to aid and assist the preservation and dissemination of knowledge, not replace it. A prime example of this is the preservation of the Qurʾān. Shaykh Amin explains:
At the same time, we see that the ʿulamāʾ wrote thousands and thousands of books. For example, you can refer to Dr. ʿAbd al-Ḥalīm Chishtī’s (Allah give him raḥmah) multi volume work which focuses on just the libraries of the Abbasid era. They used the written tradition to aid in the preservation and dissemination of knowledge.
In this era, we find additional tools of knowledge at our disposal such as telecommunication and artificial intelligence. As such, the question arises: how do we categorize these new phenomena?
There are many academic databases and research tools that contemporary ʿulamāʾ use and benefit from. You are reading this article through the medium of modern technology. As for, artificial intelligence – if it is to be used – must be placed within this framework: it may assist the Mufti or the trained researcher in navigating sources, collecting statistics and data, etc. just like using a physical library of books. But it cannot replace the human institution.
Modern technology may assist in procuring the objectives of the oral tradition. Take for example, this article you are currently reading. At the same time, participating in the oral tradition is a need for Muslims as it is an ʿamal ṣāliḥ (righteous deed). And, if the written tradition is not complemented by the oral tradition, this particular ʿamal ṣāliḥ will be left out.
At the same time, we do not claim that ʿulamāʾ are infallible – only the Prophets (upon them all salām) are maʿṣūm. But the institution is commanded by Allah. We are only responsible for following the correct procedure, not the outcome. As a result, even if one were to arrive at a correct conclusion while adopting an incorrect method, he is still incorrect and sinful. For example, there exists no tangible difference between a legitimately married couple and an unmarried couple: an unmarried couple may even hold more love—ostensibly—for one another than the married couple. Similarly, there is no immediate tangible difference between ḥalāl and ḥarām meat. Of course, for both of these examples, there is a significant spiritual difference that increasingly manifests over time, especially in the next life. However, the responsibility of the one seeking an answer is to follow the correct process. The Prophet ﷺ said: whoever says something about the Quran based upon his [unjustified] opinion and still turns out to be correct, he is wrong. The process is very important. Only a human expert can ensure that no sin occurs. Even if the Mufti makes a mistake in evaluating the nature of the case, for example, both the questioner and the mustaftī are rewarded and absolved of sin. The idea is that both follow the correct procedure.
Allah states: “Then ask the people of dhikr, if you do not know.” Dhikr and nūr is what allows the human institution to hold the position that it does. Only the human being can receive this level of nūr. Take for example, at the jurisprudential level, the concept of consensus: consensus establishes a ruling based upon the agreement of human jurists. Some scholars mention that Allah inspires all of the mujtahidūn in a given era to convene upon the truth, such inspiration relates to the locus of the human scholar which attracts Divine guidance. Books, AI, or any other tool cannot be inspired in the same way. Books and AI do not hold the nūr power to replace the human institution. As such, if someone were to seek a fatwā from an AI bot such as “ChatGPT,” they would have erred and not fulfilled the command in the aforementioned āyah.
In the field of qirāʾāt, for example, although it may be possible for one to – theoretically – use AI to assist in correcting his pronunciation, an AI cannot replace a human teacher. In that case, one loses the barakah that descends when people gather together to recite the Qurʾān with a teacher, such as in a maktab. Children are not only taught how to recite the Qurʾān, but how to embody it by receiving the nūr that is passed down through the human representatives of the oral tradition. As such, one cannot be given “ijāzah” or a license to teach and transmit the recitation of the Qurʾān except if he is authorized to do so by a living, human beneficiary of the oral tradition. Muslims have always valued and strived to procure a sanad (chain of transmission) for their knowledge–as sanad is an exclusively Islamic characteristic. The Prophet ﷺ called the people of the Qurʾān “Allah’s people and His elite group”: if one is trying to benefit himself through the Quran, would he exclude himself from this select group, or, at the very least, not desire and work to procure their proximity, blessings, and duʿāʾ? In sum, only a living receptacle can store the nūr of the Prophet ﷺ as it was revealed and then transfer it. In truth, the very efficacy of such an educational tool to begin with is a serious point of consideration for those touting and marketing AI to be a “game-changing modern educational tool” without which our Prophet-inherited ﷺ and time-and-tested pedagogy of Islamic learning remains forever lacking and irredeemably obsolete. Yes, if one’s qualified Qurʾān teacher suggests that there could be some benefit in utilizing such devices in order to assist—not replace—his primary method of Qurʾānic education, it would be tolerable.
The Ṣaḥābah (Allah be pleased with them) would ask the Prophet ﷺ for fatwā and he ﷺ would provide them the answers to those questions. This is the simplicity and elegance of our dīn. In one case, the Ṣaḥābah (Allah be pleased with them) asked for fatwā and the āyah was revealed: “Say: Allah gives you fatwā” – this shows that seeking knowledge from the human institution is the gateway to seeking knowledge from the Divine.
In light of the above, the ʿulamāʾ state that if one were to collect every book on Islamic law, his conclusions about any given issue would remain incomplete until he has spent an adequate amount of time studying and learning in the company of a human expert. The key point to remember is that just like any tool, one will only be able to derive benefit from the written tradition after he has been trained thoroughly in the oral tradition to do so. In fact, this training is quint-essential even for the oral tradition: Allah says about the Qurʾān: “He misguides through it whomsoever He wills, and guides through it whomsoever He wills—and he misguides through it only the fāsiqīn.” One form of academic fisq is to circumvent the primacy of the oral tradition. It is a clear historical fact that those persons and peoples who do not understand knowledge in the holistic sense—oral and written—are incomplete, and this produces trickle-down effects that, unfortunately, are very consequential.
We conclude with a statement of Ibn Sīrīn (Allah give him raḥmah). He states: “Indeed, this knowledge is religion. So look well from whom you take your religion.”