Preserving the Qur’ān and Sunnah’s Unique Authority: How Interpretation, Ego and Sectarianism Divide the Ummah

Qur’ān and Sunnah

The absolute and unique authority of the Qur’ān and the Sunnah of the Prophet (peace be upon him) constitutes a foundational principle of Islamic thought and practice. No individual, however learned, righteous, or influential, can reproduce, appropriate, or claim the authority inherent in divine revelation. This principle, while universally acknowledged in theory, has often been compromised in practice. Over the course of Islamic history, the interpretations and judgements of scholars have, at times, been presented to the Muslim community (ummah) as though they possessed the same epistemic and normative status as the very sources they sought to explicate. The consequences of such elevation have been profound: differences of interpretation, which are natural and inevitable, have too frequently ossified into sectarian identities and institutionalised divisions. The roots of this problem, its historical manifestations, and the means by which the special status of the Qur’ān and Sunnah may be preserved, together illuminate how diversity of thought can be prevented from devolving into fragmentation.

The Qur’ān and the Sunnah, by their nature, are divine and therefore infallible. The understanding of human beings, however sincere or intellectually gifted, remains limited, partial, and contingent. The Qur’ān repeatedly reminds its audience of human fallibility and warns against the dangers of arrogance, factionalism, and the elevation of human judgements to the level of revealed truth. This is not merely a theological humility but also a sociological safeguard: by acknowledging the limits of human interpretation, the community protects itself from the absolutising of local, personal, or historical perspectives. In theory, Muslim scholars throughout the centuries have recognised the distinction between revelation and interpretation. Classical jurisprudence developed sophisticated methodological frameworks, uṣūl al-fiqh, qawāʿid fiqhiyyah, and criteria for ijtihad, precisely to ensure that human reason remained a disciplined instrument, not an autonomous authority. The very notion of ikhtilāf (legitimate difference) and the well-known maxim, “My opinion is correct but may be mistaken; yours is mistaken but may be correct,” signal that intellectual humility and acknowledgment of fallibility are integral components of Islamic scholarly tradition.Click Here To Follow Our WhatsApp Channel

Despite this theoretical framework, Islamic intellectual history has witnessed repeated attempts by individuals, groups, or institutions to present their interpretations of the Qur’ān and Sunnah as definitive, normative, and binding. This process, sometimes subtle, sometimes overt, has contributed significantly to sectarian delineations and the hardening of intra-Muslim boundaries. Several factors explain this phenomenon. Pride in one’s intellectual school, personal position, or interpretive tradition can distort the intention of seeking truth, replacing it with the desire to defend one’s own conclusions. Over time, this personal inclination can evolve into a collective loyalty, where the prestige of one’s scholars or lineage is perceived to require defence at all costs. This dynamic, once entrenched, becomes institutionalised in the structures of religious authority, educational establishments, and even political systems. The preservation of status, influence, or livelihood may then become entangled with the preservation of doctrinal rigidity. Admitting error, or acknowledging the validity of alternative views, may be seen not merely as an intellectual concession but as a threat to one’s social and professional standing.

The Qur’ān warns the believers that division arises “after knowledge has come to them,” pointing not to ignorance but to the misuse of knowledge as the primary catalyst of discord. When knowledge becomes a means for asserting superiority rather than facilitating mutual understanding and communal guidance, it transforms into a source of fractiousness. In this light, sectarianism is not an inevitable result of differing interpretations; rather, it is a product of the human ego and the institutional structures built to protect it. A crucial distinction must therefore be drawn between difference and division. Difference is intrinsic to human cognition and is acknowledged, even celebrated, within Islamic jurisprudence. Division, on the other hand, is condemned. The difference lies not in the existence of multiple viewpoints, but in the manner in which they are engaged, communicated, and socially organised. Diversity of opinion, when approached with humility, generosity, and trust in divine guidance, becomes a source of richness and adaptability. When approached with pride, exclusivity, or institutional self-interest, it becomes a source of alienation.

One of the central failures that leads to division is the conflation of interpretation with revelation. When human conclusions are granted the aura of divine authority, disagreement becomes impossible without appearing to challenge revelation itself. This false equivalence closes the space for legitimate scholarly debate and fosters a culture in which dissent is seen as deviance. The Qur’ān and Sunnah become overshadowed by secondary discourses, and the ummah becomes fragmented not along substantive theological lines but along markers of school, sect, or scholarly pedigree. If the distinctive status of the Qur’ān and Sunnah is to be preserved, it must be reaffirmed not only in belief but also in scholarly behaviour and communal discourse. Scholars and students alike must internalise the principle that their interpretations, however carefully derived, remain human judgements, open to revision and respectful critique. This intellectual modesty does not diminish the value of scholarly endeavour; rather, it enhances it by safeguarding its integrity and ensuring that it serves the community rather than divides it.

Such a posture requires an ethical commitment to honest inquiry, a willingness to listen, and an appreciation for the plurality inherent in human engagement with revelation. Discussions and debates among the learned should model mutual respect, fairness, and the recognition that no individual or institution has a monopoly on understanding. When disagreements are navigated in this manner, they cease to be threats to unity and instead become opportunities for collective learning. The special authority of the Qur’ān and Sunnah cannot be replicated by any human agent, and any attempt to do so constitutes a distortion of the Islamic intellectual tradition. When interpretations are elevated to the level of revelation, they become instruments of division rather than means of guidance.

The historical tendency to conflate human judgement with divine authority has fuelled sectarianism, hardened intellectual boundaries, and at times undermined the unity of the ummah. By consciously preserving the unique status of revelation and embodying humility in scholarly engagement, Muslims can ensure that natural differences of thought do not become sources of disunity. A community nourished by this ethos will accommodate plural viewpoints without sacrificing reverence for its foundational sources. In such an environment, disagreement becomes a catalyst for growth, not a justification for division; and respect for the Qur’ān and Sunnah is manifested not only in belief but in the character of intellectual discourse itself.