The Incoherence Of Atheism by Abdullāh ibn Ṣāliḥ al-ʿUjayrī

All praise is for Allah, Lord of the Worlds. May benediction and peace be upon the most honoured of the Prophets and Messengers, our Prophet Muhammad, his family, and all his Companions. One of the loveliest moments in my life was when I presented the first draft of my book as a gift to my beloved parents. With this new book, I found happiness and pleasure in their words and observations. In reality, my efforts are their efforts, as a child is but an extension of its parents. I say this to point out Allah’s favour upon me. Much of my intellectual output would not have happened were it not for their support, encouragement, and supervision. I ask Allah to honour me with their pleasure, and that He increases their age in good deeds. Involving them with every book I have written has been a habit of mine. There was an exception though. Its topic and title evoked a pushback from my parents. It was a pushback that was coloured with surprise and an indignation of sorts. Their surprise was spurred by the fire of faith that burned in them, and the denunciation of a dangerous pattern of theological deviance. It was as if they were saying, ‘What is it that landed our son in this maze?’ That book was The Atheist Militia. This situation reminded me of a story. A leading scholar of dialectic theology (kalām) was walking along a path, followed by dozens of students. An elderly woman asked, ‘Who is this?’ It was put to her, ‘Do you really not know? This is the man who has put forth a thousand proofs for the existence of Allah!’ She said, ‘My son, if he was not afflicted by a thousand doubts, he would not have been in need for a thousand proofs!’ When her words were related back to the scholar, he said, ‘O Allah, I ask for faith in You like that of elderly women.’1

For the aforementioned reasons, right from the outset I am enthused to reveal to the reader that I fervently believe that recognising Allah , acknowledging His oneness, and recognising our need for Him are deeply innate and natural human dispositions. It is this state that is most aligned with the nature of man, leading to inner peace and contentment. Without it, life would be without meaning, and many existential questions on humanity would remain unanswered. In fact, they would have no answer at all. It seems that the firmness of this recognition and the influence it had on the soul is more sweeping than I first thought. Many years ago, I came across what I considered back then to be a surprising statement by Ibn Taymiyyah, where he discussed the existence of this natural predisposition of the soul in recognising the Divine, in conjunction with self-evident and rational positions. He states, ‘The core knowledge of the Divine is both natural and necessary. It is more firmly established in the souls than the fundamentals of mathematics such as “One is half of two”, or the fundamentals of natural knowledge such as “A body cannot simultaneously exist in two places”. This is because such items of knowledge are expressions that the innate predispositions of most people can disregard. As for the knowledge of the Divine, it is unimaginable that any natural predisposition is able to disregard it.’2

When I first saw this passage, I asked myself, ‘Is the entrenchment of belief in the Divine stronger than these examples? I just cannot see it this way! Though I acknowledge that recognising Allah is innate to us, why is it that I do not feel that it is as strong as those self-evident examples?’ Some complexities of this issue were resolved for me a few years later. This was after the full publication of Ibn Taymiyyah’s encyclopaedic book Bayān Talbīs al-Jahmiyyah, in which I came across an excellent passage where he discussed the belief of the innately understood highness of Allah  over His creation: ‘This knowledge clings onto their souls. It cannot be separated from it any more than the instinctive knowledge of tangibles and natural matters, such as “One is a third of three”, and “A body cannot simultaneously exist in two places”. This is because the latter is knowledge that they simply do not need; in fact, it may never even occur to a person. As for the knowledge of the highness of Allah, I would say that – in addition to people needing it – people are also in need of what it necessitates and means, which is supplication, asking, self-effacement, and humility unto the Divine – the One Above Who is being invoked.’3

The knowledge-action duet vis-à-vis recognising the Divine is one aspect that represents the strength of this understanding, compared to those other non actionable pieces of information that man may not always recollect as he grinds on with daily life. This is underscored by Ibn Taymiyyah on the next page: ‘As for knowing the Divine, it is far greater and more honourable, as it is necessary for the children of Adam in terms of both knowledge and intent to turn to Him. They were predisposed for this. The innate existence of this instinctive knowledge and intent is far more entrenched than the existence of other information.’4

In more explicit terms, he went on to say just a few pages later, ‘Allah, Glory to Him, predisposed His servants to two things: that their hearts affirm Him in terms of knowledge, and that they love Him and are humble in front of Him in terms of practice, worship, and seeking assistance. They are thus predisposed to having knowledge of Him and acting for His sake.5 However, I was still puzzled as to what extent recognition of the Divine was entrenched in the soul. This was until I came across the following passage from Ibn Taymiyyah’s response: ‘It is known that the strength of attraction to disputed knowledge is unlike that attraction to unopposed knowledge. The attraction to knowledge of concepts like calculus or nature – such as “One is half of two”, “A body cannot simultaneously be in two places”, and so on – is not as entrenched in the hearts, nor is there any strong opposition to it.’6 And this is how it is. The various doubts that are raised against Allah – which can potentially cause man to turn away from or weaken his innate predisposition – are far more than objections against other sciences. One therefore might feel that the sciences are more self-evident than Allah. However, if people’s souls were pure and those external distractions were taken out of the equation, it would have most certainly been the case that knowing Allah would be far stronger and entrenched than the sciences.

From the viewpoint of the sequence analysis and cognitive construct, recognition of the Divine must be the most self-evident of all rational concepts. Without acknowledging Him, there would be no scope left to affirm any innate knowledge, to pass judgement on its instinctiveness, or to suggest that it is above and beyond the nature of the universe, matter, and man. The gateway to affirming any self-evident truth is to first believe in Allah . Without this, it is impossible to construct a coherent philosophical outlook that affirms instinctive and innate concepts. Based on this, one can understand what Ibn al-Qayyim reported from his teacher, may Allah have mercy on both of them. He said, ‘“How can you demand proof for someone who Himself is proof for everything?” He (i.e., Ibn Taymiyyah) used to frequently mention this couplet:

Indeed, when we ask for proof of Allah, it is as if we are lighting candles during an already bright day. Such a scene would provoke laughter, would it not? However, what are we supposed to do when we have been forced into a situation to clarify this? A reader may ask, ‘Why the haste in discussing this issue here, in the introduction of the book? Why not defer the discussion to where it can be more appropriately discussed and where the details, explanation, and proofs can be properly presented?’ The motivation for this is to underscore the notion that any research on the existence of Allah  and offering up its most important evidence cannot be treated as an issue which a reader may even subconsciously deem to be contentious, or presume that it requires some lengthy discourse to prove its veracity. This is especially given that there are objections raised to it. Many people are duped into believing that offering up an issue for debate and subjecting it to critique weakens its conclusiveness, and that this process renders the issue into a point of legitimate debate. Consider the state of many people vis-à-vis instinctive and self-evident matters of rationality. Look at what became of them when they were exposed to schools of cognitive philosophy, and how the very core and self-evident truths were shaken – all just because this issue became one of to-and-fro, like any other. After barging shoulders and engrossing myself with many of those philosophical debates, I want to share the conclusion I have deduced. It is not difficult to construct deviant assertions that cast doubt on self-evident and instinctive truths. If a person does not hold on to the self-evident nature of the issue being objected to, he will invariably fall into the type of scepticism that can undermine the foundation upon which a coherent and rational knowledge structure rests.

Take, for example, the statements on the external world made by philosophical idealism. At its extreme fringes, this philosophy asserts that ‘there is no objective reality to the external world; therefore, our knowledge is not a result or a reflection of the external world, but rather the starting point of knowledge is in our minds’. Such an assertion flies against what our hearts instinctively know. When we deal with the world, we deal with what we self evidently believe has a real and objective reality. Therefore, we have an instinctive tendency to believe that objective realities have a standalone existence. That reality exists regardless of whether we are there to observe it or not. Would the proponents of a philosophy that denies self-evident truths be considered to be merely obstinate personalities, or is it actually the case that doubts managed to shake the foundations of their souls – foundations upon which the concept of self evident realities can survive?

The starting point of their problem is that they conceptualise that our knowledge, in a nutshell, is the result of interaction between ourselves and the thoughts that swirl around in our heads. So when I look at something, the question is: Am I interacting with the thought of me looking at the said thing, or am I interacting with something that really does possess external existence? Their position implies that we cannot get to the bottom of this; in fact, we cannot verify this at all. It would be more like a dream; nay, it would be like a deep dream state in which we are living out our lives without ever realising that we are in fact dreaming. It is as if their position is represented in the famous American movie, The Matrix. This movie actually comprises of various theological and philosophical concepts, one of which is the view that everything we perceive is all just in our minds, and has nothing to do with an actual world. The movie purports that the entirety of humanity is living in a virtual world, manufactured by artificial intelligence (AI). This virtual world is given shape by the minds of humans that are tied into what is called the matrix, without the witnessed world ever having any external reality to it. I was in a discussion with some youth who had been influenced by atheist discourse. They too were sceptical of innate and instinctive concepts. During the discussion, I said there was a cognitive impasse that disallowed any further discussion: ‘If I were to tell you that I am dreaming right now, how can you convince me that I am not dreaming? You cannot pinch me, hit me, or attempt to wake me up, as I can simply say that all of this is part of the dream. ‘The only solution for these cognitive objections is to submit to what man innately feels within himself, giving oneself up to the uncorrupted innate disposition in a direct and simple fashion, and relying on the accuracy of its ramifications. Without such submission, it is hard for any man to do away with such cognitive problems.’ That was just one example. By this, I wanted to underscore that merely coming across a differing view on our innate instincts does not negate them. Philosophical objections cannot automatically dismantle what we can innately feel. In the end, there is a degree of reliance on the self-evident and innate predisposition that is required to repel these doubts. Without holding on to these instinctive truths, we would fall into the trap of sophistry. If you were pinched and then asked, ‘Do you feel pain?’, your answer would be in the affirmative. But are you certain that other people feel the same when they are pinched, or are they faking it? Is merely asking them a reliable way of ascertaining the fact? Perhaps they are lying. How can we be so sure that they feel pain like you do?

Has the life that you have passed thus far actually occurred, with all the details that you can recollect? Or is it that you were merely found like this, just a few moments ago, being ladened with a store of memories about a past life you feel you have experienced, such that you have an overwhelming feeling that you did indeed live out this lengthy period?8 If this type of question is asked, how can you provide evidence for it without resorting to the innate predisposition you feel within yourself?

The point is this: Merely presenting an issue – in fact, merely offering objections and counterarguments to it – does not negate the necessary and instinctive nature of the issue. Many a time, we end up feeling our basic cognitive imprints and submit to what they tell us. Without this, we can never construct any cognition that can assist us in learning about ourselves or the world around us. One of the most beneficial thought experiments I have come across in this regard is the one conducted by Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī , which he related in his book Deliverance From Error. In it, he discussed his sceptical approach. He says he had no way of being saved were it not that Allah chose to save him thanks to the light He placed in his heart. That light returned him to his inner balance, and through this, the cognitive value of self-evident truths was restored to him.

Explaining the states of this stage, and in an attempt to cast doubt on the tangible and necessary truths in order to arrive at their necessary nature, he says, ‘I then set myself earnestly to examine the notions we derive from the evidence of the senses and from sight in order to see if they could be called in question. The result of a careful examination was that my confidence in them was shaken. Our sight, for instance, perhaps the best practiced of all our senses, observes a shadow, and finding it apparently stationary pronounces it devoid of movement. Observation and experience, however, show subsequently that a shadow moves not suddenly, it is true, but gradually and imperceptibly, so that it is never really motionless. ‘Again, the eye sees a star and considers it as large as a piece of gold, but mathematical calculations prove, on the contrary, that it is larger than the Earth. These notions, and all others which the senses declare true, are subsequently contradicted and convicted of falsity in an irrefragable manner by the verdict of reason.’ ‘Then I reflected in myself: “Since I cannot trust to the evidence of my senses, I must rely only on intellectual notions based on fundamental principles, such as the following axioms: ‘Ten is more than three’, ‘Affirmation and negation cannot coexist together’, ‘A thing cannot both be created and also existent from eternity, living and annihilated simultaneously, at once necessary and impossible’.” To this, the notions I derived from my senses made the following objections: “Who can guarantee you that you can trust to the evidence of reason more than to that of the senses? You believed in our testimony till it was contradicted by the verdict

of reason, otherwise you would have continued to believe it to this day. Well, perhaps, there is above reason another judge who, if he appeared, would convict reason of falsehood, just as reason has confuted us. And if such a third arbiter is not yet apparent, it does not follow that it does not exist.” ‘To this argument I remained some time without a reply; a reflection drawn from the phenomena of sleep deepened my doubt. “Do you not see”, I reflected, “that while asleep you assume your dreams to be indisputably real? Once awake, you recognise them for what they are: baseless chimeras. Who can assure you, then, of the reliability of notions which, when awake, you derive from the senses and from reason? In relation to your present state they may be real; but it is also possible that you may enter upon another state of being which will bear the same relation to your present state as this does to your condition when asleep. In that new sphere you will recognise that the conclusions of reason are only chimeras.” ‘This possible condition is perhaps that which the Sufis call “ecstasy” (ḥāl), that is to say, according to them, a state in which absorbed in themselves and in the suspension of sense-perceptions, they have visions beyond the reach of intellect. Perhaps Death is also that state, according to that saying of the prince of prophets: “Men are asleep; when they die, they wake up.” Our present life in relation to the future is perhaps only a dream, and man, once dead, will see things in direct opposition to those now before his eyes; he will then understand that word of the Qur’an, “Today we have removed the veil from thine eyes and thy sight is keen.”9 ‘Such thoughts as these threatened to shake my reason, and I sought to find an escape from them. But how? In order to disentangle the knot of this difficulty, a proof was necessary. Now, a proof must be based on primary assumptions, and it was precisely these of which I was in doubt. This unhappy state lasted about two months, during which I was, not, it is true, explicitly or by profession, but morally and essentially, a thorough-going sceptic.’ ‘God at last deigned to heal me of this mental malady; my mind recovered sanity and equilibrium: the primary assumptions of reason recovered with me all their stringency and force. I owed my deliverance not to a concatenation of proofs and arguments, but to the light which God caused to penetrate into my heart – the light which illuminates the threshold of all knowledge. To suppose that certitude can be only based upon formal arguments is to limit the boundless mercy of God. Someone asked the Prophet the explanation of this passage in the Divine Book: “God opens to Islam the heart of him whom He chooses to direct.” “That is spoken”, replied the Prophet, “of the light which God sheds in the heart.” “And how can man recognise that light?” he was asked. “By his detachment from this world of illusion and by a secret drawing toward the eternal world”, the Prophet replied. ‘On another occasion, he said: “God has created His creatures in darkness, and then has shed upon them his light.” It is by the help of this light that the search for truth must be carried on. As by His mercy this light descends from time to time among men, we must ceaselessly be on the watch for it. This is also corroborated by another saying of the Apostle: “God sends upon you, at certain times, breathings of His grace; be prepared for them.” ‘My object in this account is to make others understand with what earnestness we should search for truth, since it leads to results we never dreamed of. Primary assumptions need not be sought for, since they are always present in our minds; if we engage in such a search, we only find them persistently elude our grasp. But those who push their investigation beyond ordinary limits are safe from the suspicion of negligence in pursuing what is within their reach.’10 One may find a number of lessons and wisdoms in the conclusion of this passage.

I wanted to underscore these points at the beginning of this book. During my research into the issue of the Divine’s existence, I came to the conclusion that, without holding onto – or operating from – one’s innate predisposition, man has no prospect of salvation. Without the possibility of man knowing he is man, there is no guarantee for him to be safe from the smoke of chaos, nihilism, absurdity, or sophistry. Whenever a person relinquishes these facts, he will inevitably land himself in major cognitive and moral problems, which can lead to the death of his humanity. When Nietzsche claimed that God is dead, what he was actually claiming was that his own humanity inside him had died. But why this book? And why write on the topic of Allah’s existence? Ever since I thought about writing on this subject, this question has continuously occupied my mind. But what original contribution can a writer offer given the array of ancient and modern works dealing with the subject, all of which have attempted to offer all sorts of proofs for Allah’s existence and repel any objection raised to it? My primary motivator for this was to present the intellectual material in a manner that appeals to the broadest possible audience of cultured individuals who have an interest in the modern theist-atheist debate, and to offer a general conceptualisation of its most salient aspects. Likewise, giving contemporary Islamic theological discourse a shot in the arm can refresh the debate and reveal new lines of discussion. These areas ought to be put up for consideration and solutions for them should be put forth. This book is not the end of the journey for this topic. Rather, it should be viewed as the harbinger of deeper and more constructive academic writings. I pray that other specialists can assume the mantle to take these discussions further.

So this is the central idea of the book. I hope it will achieve its aims without delving into the type of polemic that is detached from how atheism actually manifests itself today. The purpose is not to present or discuss the old theological or philosophical arguments used to establish Allah’s existence, such as the argument from the temporality of bodies, argument from composition, argument from special design, or the discussions surrounding these. Rather, the aim is to have a discussion that is aligned to the discourse occurring today. They are the types of discussions I have been having with some of today’s youth who have been impacted by atheist discourse. It is also the study of many of the doubts and objections raised by contemporary atheists. I should not hide from the readership that, personally speaking, I am highly enthusiastic about defending Sunni dialectic theology, and by what is recorded in the Sunni books and debates by Sunni scholars on this subject, especially the writings of Shaykh al-Islam Ibn Taymiyyah . However, I will try to curb my strong views in favour of Sunnism to offer material and ideas that I hope will be clear, easy to understand, refreshing, and beneficial to wider society. I end this introduction by paying homage to my beloved wife and my beloved daughters – Munā, Fāṭimah, Shaykah, and Balsam – for their great sacrifices and patience that have allowed me to complete this research. May Allah grant them the best of rewards on my behalf. I thank Dr. Ibrāhīm al-Rammāḥ for reviewing the pre-publication draft, and for his excellent feedback – may Allah decree reward and recompense for him. I ask Allah to grant us all the ability for good, and that He allow the truth to emanate from our hearts and tongues. He  is the best requestee.