This article is for all those scholars and heads of madrasa institutions who believe that the purpose of madrasa education is only to produce “religious scholars,” and that if someone wants to become a doctor or engineer, they should go elsewhere. This viewpoint may seem reasonable on the surface, but when examined deeply, it not only contradicts historical facts but is also extremely harmful for the Muslim Ummah. This is not a new debate. Many of our far-sighted elders faced it, and all of them spent their lives struggling against this narrow-mindedness and stagnation, explaining this subtle point.
First, it is essential to understand the fundamental fallacy on which this entire thinking rests — that knowledge has been divided into two separate compartments: “religious” and “worldly.”
Shiekhiul Mashaikh Maulana Abdul Hasan Ali Al- Nadwi (RA) declared this very division to be un-Islamic. His view was that in Islam, knowledge is not divided into “religious and worldly” but into “beneficial knowledge” (ilm-e-nafi‘) and “non-beneficial knowledge” (ilm-e-ghair nafi‘). Every knowledge that benefits humanity and becomes a means of recognizing Allah in the universe — whether it is science, economics, or history — is part of the Deen. In his book “Maghribi Rujhanat aur Un Mein Tabdeeli Ki Zaroorat” (Western Trends and the Need for Change), Maulana writes that as long as Muslims were the imams and leaders of the world, our madrasas taught astronomy, mathematics, and medicine under the same roof along with Qur’an and Hadith. This division arose after the decline of Muslims and the arrival of the British.
The golden era of Islamic history bears living testimony that the most thoughtful and dynamic people of the Ummah were simultaneously masters of both religious and worldly sciences. Ibn Sina, whose book Al-Qanun fi al-Tibb was taught in European medical universities for seven hundred years, was at once a jurist and a physician. Ibn Rushd was a philosopher, a judge, and a physician. Al-Kindi, Al-Khwarizmi, Al-Biruni — all were imams of mathematics, astronomy, and physics alongside religious knowledge, and they all emerged from madrasas. Imam Ghazali, in his Ihya Ulum al-Din, declared worldly sciences to be fard kifayah — meaning that if there are no experts in these fields within the Ummah, the entire Ummah is sinful.
Now, if someone argues that madrasas were never established to teach college and school subjects, but were built solely for the protection of religion, then this argument is based on an incomplete and flawed understanding of history. The greatest lesson of history is that institutions, movements, and systems of every era are products of the demands of their time. When we study the history of Arabic madrasas, a crucial question arises: When Maulana Qasim Nanotwi (RA) established madrasas, did he lay down an eternal, immutable curriculum, or did he devise an urgent, wise solution in response to the specific conditions and needs of his era? To find the answer, we must picture India after 1857 before our eyes.
After the failure of the 1857 War of Independence, the condition of Muslims was like that of a traveler whose ship had sunk in a storm and who was flailing in the open sea without support. This was not merely a political defeat; it was an attempt to end an entire civilization. Muslim properties were confiscated, endowments were seized, the lamp of government and authority was extinguished, and above all, their religious, scholarly, and intellectual structure was shattered. The threats were not only external — there was a storm on the internal front as well. Christian missionaries came from Europe and, under the guise of mission schools, were busy changing the minds of Muslim children. The Arya Samaj movement tried to pull Muslims toward Hinduism. Qadianism struck at the fundamental belief in the finality of Prophethood. In such a delicate and dangerous situation, the diagnosis Maulana Qasim Nanotwi made was that of a sage. He realized that if knowledge, ethics, and self-determination in thought and intellect did not remain in the nation, political freedom would also be meaningless. With this insight, he founded the madrasa in Deoband in 1866. The curriculum focused on religious sciences because at that time the greatest danger was the erasure of religious identity, not a lack of scientific or worldly knowledge.
Here comes the central point on which the entire discussion rests. If one studies Maulana Nanotwi’s Usool-e-Hashtgana (Eight Principles) and the system he implemented, it becomes clear as daylight that what he did was a demand of the circumstances, not an eternal obligation. In the Roodad of 1290 AH, Maulana Nanotwi explicitly wrote that this madrasa was established because government schools did not teach religion; therefore, only those sciences should be taught here that are not taught there. And along with that, he also wrote: “After graduating from the madrasa, students should continue their efforts to attain excellence in modern sciences by going to government schools.” That is, Maulana Nanotwi himself wrote with his own hand that the madrasa is the beginning, not the end. Religious education is the foundation, not the entire building. Those who today consider the madrasa a “complete” place only for producing scholars are turning away from the founder’s words, not just from the demands of the time.
Now think: If Maulana Nanotw RAi were alive today, would he stick to the same curriculum? Absolutely not! And the reason is the very principle he himself adopted — recognize the need of the time and mold the nation accordingly. Today, the greatest danger is the economic, scientific, and technological backwardness of Muslims. Therefore, Nanotwi’s own logic says: deal first with the greatest threat. Today, those scholars and madrasas who understand this reality and are trying to integrate contemporary sciences with religious education are, in truth, the most faithful representatives of Nanotwi’s spirit. And those who still consider the 1866 curriculum immutable are holding on to Nanotwi’s words but are very far from his spirit.
The most important and painful aspect of this discussion is the history of wrong fatwas. When a scholar has no understanding of contemporary sciences, he cannot correctly apply the principles of Shariah to new issues, because for ijtihad, knowledge of the subject is as essential as knowledge of usool al-fiqh. Maulana Ali Miyan Nadwi wrote unequivocally in his book “Insani Duniya Par Musalmanon Ke Urooj-o-Zawal Ka Asar” (Effect of Rise and Fall of Muslims on the Human World) that all attacks on Islam today are not with sticks or swords but through modern philosophy, science, and intellectual ideologies. Until a scholar knows the path on which the modern mind is thinking, how will he defend Islam? When Gutenberg invented the printing press, many scholars declared it haram, and in the Ottoman Empire, Arabic printing was banned for nearly two hundred years, while Europe printed millions of books and brought about a scientific revolution. In the early twentieth century, there were attempts to declare the microphone impermissible. All this happened because the scholar lacked knowledge of the technology, and when the ‘illah (underlying reason) is wrong, the ruling also turns out wrong — this is the very principle of fiqh taught in madrasas but practically ignored.
Today’s Muslim businessman lives in a complex legal and financial world, but the scholar issuing fatwas for him has studied neither the VAT/ Sales Tax system, nor company law, nor banking regulations. When a Muslim trader asks a scholar about his business issue, the scholar understands neither its nature, nor the legal risk, nor can he give the correct Shariah ruling. The result is that he either outright prohibits it and permissible work is abandoned, causing heavy losses to a large segment, or he permits it and haram is committed. Murabaha, Ijarah, Musharakah — these are principles of Islamic finance, but to compare them with modern banking products, a scholar must know how to read a balance sheet. Today, many so-called “Islamic banks” are in fact copies of interest-based banks, but because the scholar does not understand the technical structure, he cannot even grasp the real issue. If today a law against Islam or Shariah is made in Parliament or the Supreme Court, we need a lawyer who is both a Hafiz of the Qur’an and an expert in law to fight the case. In India, the fight for the legal rights of Muslims becomes weak because their representative scholar does not speak the language of the Constitution, sections, and judicial precedents.
The aspect of da‘wah and propagation is also extremely important and cannot be ignored. Today, the field of da‘wah has changed. An IIT engineer, an MBBS doctor, a senior judge — these people will only listen to you at an intellectual level when you are familiar with their intellectual world. A scholar who only knows the language of Qur’an and Hadith cannot give a doctor Shariah guidance on modern medical issues, nor can he explain to an engineer whether the use of a certain technology is permissible or not. In Maulana’s collection of sermons “Hamara Nisab-e-Ta‘leemi” (Our Educational Curriculum), it is recorded that madrasas should not be made places where the defeated and weary of society take refuge. Rather, madrasas should become cantonments from which generals and commanders are produced who can change the intellectual currents of the world. The Prophet ﷺ spoke to ambassadors of different nations in their own languages, and when the Companions gave da‘wah in Persian, Roman, and Egyptian civilizations, they first understood their culture, their language, and their problems. Today’s educated class is a separate nation whose language is science, logic, and experiment. If our scholars do not learn this language, this segment will remain distant from religion. The Prophet ﷺ said: “Wisdom is the lost property of the believer; wherever he finds it, he should take it.” When the Messenger of Allah called knowledge the inheritance of the believer, how can we make it untouchable by calling it “worldly”?
In the next twenty years, millions of Muslim youth will graduate from top notch Universities of the world and they will be at an intellectual level where they will test a traditional scholar’s words against an academic standard. If the scholar has only references from the Book and Sunnah but no awareness of contemporary sciences, these youth will not accept his words — not because they are ill-intentioned, but because it is difficult to learn from someone who does not know. If our madrasas do not change their curriculum now, the next generation of educated Muslims will either become secular, or they will turn to such “modern scholars” who issue fatwas based solely on contemporary knowledge, without knowledge of Hadith or usool al-fiqh. This is the real danger that the current policy of our madrasas is itself creating.
Now, regarding “we don’t force anyone.” This sounds reasonable but is practically an irresponsible attitude. When a poor family sends their child to a madrasa, they do not send him thinking “my child should only become a scholar and nothing else.” They send him because education is free there, food is available, there is shelter. That is, most madrasa students are children whose parents cannot afford expensive schools. By giving them an “option,” you are certainly not forcing them — that is true — but because they are unaware of the risk, their detachment from contemporary sciences is guaranteed, and because the system is not concerned with it, this detachment keeps happening. Maulana Ali Miyan Nadwi’s saying fits perfectly here: The child of the madrasa was not born only to become an imam of a mosque or a servant of a madrasa. He is to become a leader of all humanity, and if he is to raise the voice of truth in courts, parliaments, and media, it is not possible without contemporary sciences.
Now, if someone says that whoever wants to study both should first do madrasa and then go to college, a major age crisis arises on this path. By the time one completes ‘alimiyyah, a considerable age has passed. After that, if he sets out for contemporary education, marriage, home, and family responsibilities stand before him, and practically this path becomes impossible. But there is a solution to this problem, and it has been tested. Madrasa Arabia Ta‘meer-e-Millat Aligarh, founded by Dr. Sanaullah Khan Sahib, has practically shown this path — and I myself am a student of this very madrasa. In this system, a child completes fifth grade by the stage of nazirah and hifz, then by the time he reaches from Arabi Ibtida’i to Arabi Rabi‘, he also completes tenth grade. That is, religious and contemporary education run side by side, and age is not wasted. Now, if this sequence is extended further, then in Arabi Panjum he can complete eleventh grade, in Arabi Shashum twelfth grade, and alongside Arabi Haftum and Daurah Hadith, the student can prepare for NEET, do LLB, take an engineering diploma, do MBA or CA — whatever he wishes. In this way, at the same time, a complete scholar is prepared and also a capable professional, and neither is age wasted nor is religious education left incomplete.
Finally, understand that this is not a modern liberal theory imported from the West. Imam Ghazali wrote explicitly in Ihya Ulum al-Din that sciences like medicine, mathematics, and engineering are fard kifayah. Ibn Khaldun wrote in his Muqaddimah that a nation that does not learn contemporary sciences cannot escape civilizational decline. Shah Waliullah Muhaddith Dehlavi (RA) declared in Hujjatullah al-Balighah that understanding contemporary conditions is essential for ijtihad. This is the voice of our own scholarly tradition, and Maulana Ali Miyan Nadwi made this very tradition the mission of his entire life.
When a madrasa student emerges confined to only one box, he neither fully understands the world, nor remains capable of giving the world correct guidance from an Islamic perspective. Maulana Qasim Nanotwi’s real message was not any specific list of a curriculum. Rather, his message was that leading the nation toward collective self-determination and self-reliance is fard ‘ayn, and this is only possible when the system of education and training is molded according to the demands of the time. A complete scholar is one who can provide solutions to the problems of every era in the light of Qur’an and Sunnah, and to provide solutions for every era, it is necessary to know the language and knowledge of every era. This is not weakening the Deen, but strengthening it. If you truly want to serve the Deen, then prepare your students not only for the past, but also for the coming tomorrow — a future in which millions of youth will be attached to ideologies that we cannot even reach with the current policy of madrasas.
