Preserving Quranic Language, Muslim Identity, and Quranic Culture

By, Md Maruf Hasan

I was in the state of Pahang for a friend’s wedding ceremony when our car entered a small town. There, I noticed a shop sign written in Jawi. Jawi, the earliest form of Malay writing adapted from the Arabic alphabet, serves as a significant marker of Islamic civilization and cultural identity in the Malay world.

China has carefully designed its policies to ensure that its language, identity, and culture continue to flourish among its people. By contrast, if one becomes part of an Islamic university—as an academic, administrator, or student—what should one promote? While state policies may be beyond individual control, there remains a responsibility to uphold and defend the language, identity, and culture of Muslims.

I recall being in a History of Philosophy class with Brother Akmal at SMART, IIUM (SELU) in 2019. When I mentioned that I was from the BENL (English Department) during orientation, Brother Akmal admitted that his English was weak, expressing a sense of inferiority. I have observed this mentality on several occasions. In developing countries, even among university graduates, there is often a complex of superiority and inferiority attached to the English language and to certain departments.

During the colonial period, Muslim scholars in the Indian subcontinent even issued fatwas declaring the learning of English to be haram, largely due to the colonial mindset imposed by the British. Psychologically, I believe this was an attempt to defend Islamic civilization. Centuries earlier, Al-Biruni had traveled to India, mastered Sanskrit, and produced a comprehensive study on Indian culture. Muslim rulers later relied on his work to better understand the psychology of the Indian people, enabling them to govern the subcontinent more effectively.

In the 21st century, when Muslim academics and students defend the use of English, they are not defending English culture but rather recognizing English as the lingua franca of the globe—just as Arabic once functioned as the lingua franca during the height of Islamic civilization. This explains why Jawi writing became popular in the Malay world and left a lasting influence throughout Southeast Asia. I mentioned China as an example because it demonstrates how a state can safeguard its civilizational identity; similarly, Islamic universities bear the responsibility of nurturing Islamic civilization. When we discuss Islamization, Islamic reform, or Islamic revivalism in an academic context, the priority should be the promotion of Quranic language and culture—not the pre-Islamic Arab culture once practiced by the opponents of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH).

The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was a sincere servant and messenger who promoted the Quranic language and culture. The remarkable civilization that eventually ruled half of the world did so by virtue of the teachings of the Qur’an, not through pre-Islamic Arab traditions. It would have been unimaginable for the Bedouins to rule half the world. Only the power and universality of the Qur’an enabled Islam to conquer not just lands but also the hearts of people across the globe. The Qur’an speaks directly and sincerely to humanity about the meaning of life and their ultimate destiny in the universe, while introducing them to the Creator, Allah SWT. If one were to travel to the edge of our solar system, one would scarcely perceive our planet with the naked eye—perhaps only noticing a dim light from the Sun.

As a student, I attended classes with Professor Dr. Mahmudul (BENL) and Professor Dr. Mumtaz Ali (RKUD), both of whom expressed different opinions on this matter. Academia allows space for such diversity of thought, and from my experience in the IIUM Debate Club, I have learned that strong arguments can be made on both sides. What I consistently observed was a sincerity to represent Islam. At first glance, the approach from the IRK department may appear unusual, but when one explores the philosophical underpinnings of using Arabic terms within English discourse, the necessity becomes clearer. For instance, Professor Mumtaz often emphasized in his IOK (Islamization of Knowledge) class that instead of using English terms such as “faith” or “belief,” we should use “imaan” or “solat” etc.

If we consider the English definition of “faith,” it is described as “a strong belief in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual conviction rather than proof.” Philosophically, this is problematic. While in casual discussions such terminology may be harmless, in academic discourse it becomes problematic, especially since atheists and secular academics often ridicule Islamic universities as mere propaganda machines. From their perspective, Islam is included in academia only for business or state funding, rather than for genuine intellectual or spiritual pursuit. Consequently, Muslim academics and leaders are sometimes accused of hypocrisy and misusing resources for insincere purposes. This radical secular critique, while extreme, highlights the importance of precision in academic terminology.

Therefore, while promoting English as an essential medium for global communication in the 21st century, Muslim academics should not dismiss entirely the earlier decisions of Muslim scholars who opposed English during the colonial period. English is undoubtedly crucial for global interaction, but the Chinese example demonstrates the importance of simultaneously preserving one’s own language, identity, and culture. To safeguard the Quranic identity, culture, and language among future Muslim generations, Muslim academics must contribute meaningfully. Otherwise, Muslim youths may eventually perceive Islam as merely a faith-based system devoid of intellectual rigor—an unscientific enterprise, rather than the universal and rational guidance that the Qur’an embodies.***