People often become very strongly attached to madhhabs not only for theological reasons but also for very human ones. For some, a madhhab becomes part of their identity; for others, a marker of belonging to their community; for still others, a way to avoid chaos and uncertainty; and for some, a convenient ready-made path that removes the need to independently navigate complex issues. All of this is understandable. But understanding the reason for attachment does not mean recognizing that attachment as obligatory for everyone.
This is precisely where it is important to draw a distinction. A madhhab can be a useful tool, but a useful tool does not mean a mandatory tool for every Muslim. To speak about this honestly, one must first understand what the word "madhhab" actually means.
What is a madhhab?
The word "madhhab" literally means path, direction, or method. It is not a separate religion, not a separate Quran, and not a new revelation. A madhhab is a human system of understanding how to apply the Quran and transmitted historical reports in practice. In other words, a madhhab is a methodology, not the religion itself.
It is very important not to confuse these two levels. There is Islam. There is the Quran. And there are various ways of human understanding of Islam.
Why do people become so attached to madhhabs?
Attachment to a madhhab is often explained not only by knowledge but also by psychology.
1. Identity
When a person hears from childhood that they belong to a particular school, that school gradually becomes part of their religious "self." They are no longer simply following a scholar's opinion—they begin to defend their own affiliation.
2. Fear of chaos
Many people are afraid to live without a ready-made system. If the familiar structure is removed, there is a feeling that everything will fall apart. Therefore, the madhhab is perceived as protection from religious uncertainty.
3. Convenience
It is much easier to take a ready-made answer than to read, compare, and think for oneself. This is natural, but convenience is not the same as obligation.
4. Social habit
A person often repeats what they have heard from family, environment, and community. Sometimes they do not even ask why it is done that way.
5. Fear of responsibility
If a person independently investigates a question, they have to answer for their own conclusions. This requires effort, so some people find it easier to completely trust a ready-made system.
All these reasons are understandable. But none of them is divine proof that a madhhab is obligatory for everyone.
The Imams did not consider themselves infallible
Sometimes one gets the impression that the founders of the madhhabs expected their opinions to be repeated without discussion until the end of time. However, historical evidence paints a very different picture. The Imams repeatedly emphasized that they could err and urged people to verify their words.
Their approach can be conveyed by one simple thought: if a person's opinion contradicts revelation, priority remains with revelation, not with the person's opinion. This is a very important principle. It shows the Imams' own respect for revelation and their understanding of their own human limitations. This is precisely why it is strange to turn their words into something that can no longer be clarified, revised, or questioned.
If in their time a certain person did not dare to ask a question—due to tradition, societal pressure, fear of appearing insolent, or simply out of shyness—this does not mean that a modern person has no right to ask. The question itself is not a sin. Doubt is also not a sin. Doubt is not an enemy of faith, but rather a bell in the mind that says: "stop and check, this needs to be understood."
Sometimes doubt helps close a door through which error might enter our lives. For example, if a man doubts whether a child is truly his, he does not consider this a sin—he goes and takes a test to find out the truth. If we see money mysteriously disappearing in a banking app, we do not say, "Well, since I doubt, I must be a bad person." We call the bank and clarify where the money is going. If a strange noise appears in the car, we do not ignore it out of fear of "doubting" the car's reliability—we take it for diagnostics. If a doctor says something unclear about our health, we ask clarifying questions, because our body depends on it.
So why do we so easily ask questions about everything concerning money, family, health, and safety, but hesitate to clarify what the future of our soul depends on?
Another important point: the Imams themselves, on whom the madhhabs today rely, did not live within ready-made madhhabs in the form we know them now. They had their own method, their own logic, their own engagement with the Quran, language, context, and reasoning. Their schools took shape later. That is, first there was a person, their method, and their conclusions, and only afterward came systematization and the naming of the school.
The very fact that multiple madhhabs exist shows that the Islamic intellectual tradition was never completely uniform. If human understanding of religion were automatically identical and absolute, there would be no differences between schools. This alone indicates that we are dealing with human conclusions, not a single infallible mechanism.
Thinking is not a privilege but an obligation
Allah does not call people to blind repetition. On the contrary, the Quran constantly addresses the human being with an invitation to reflect, understand, compare, and draw conclusions. It repeatedly poses questions: "Do you not understand?" , "Do they not reflect upon the Quran?" , "Do they not give thought?" This means that thinking is not a luxury for the chosen few but an obligation for everyone.
At the same time, it is important to be honest: not every person is equally capable of independent analysis. Some truly cannot think deeply, some have not received sufficient education, some are accustomed to relying on ready-made answers, and some simply do not want to think. The latter is often linked to laziness. Laziness is not an excuse but an explanation for passivity. It may explain why a person does not engage in reflection, but it does not make that refusal correct.
Therefore, one cannot say that everyone is equally obligated to be theologians or jurists. But neither can one claim that a person does not need to think at all. Some people truly need a ready-made educational path. Others are capable of reading the Quran, comparing verses, and verifying conclusions independently. This is precisely why it is wrong to declare one way of understanding obligatory for everyone.
Not everyone needs such a group or school to understand the fundamentals of religion. For some, a madhhab is a useful guide; for others, a convenient reference; for others, a familiar environment. But this does not make it an obligatory method for every Muslim.
We approach madhhabs with respect
Our approach is not based on rejecting Islamic tradition. The works of early scholars are of enormous value. They preserved a wealth of historical information, engaged with language, law, analyzed complex issues of their time, and left a rich intellectual heritage. Ignoring all this experience would be unwise.
But respect does not mean infallibility. Every scholar remains human, and a human opinion is always distinct from divine revelation. Therefore, we do not reject madhhabs as a phenomenon. We simply do not consider their conclusions automatically binding on all Muslims when the Quran itself does not establish this.
If a particular conclusion of a madhhab does not contradict the Quran and remains within the framework of recommendation, custom, or permissible practice, we see no problem with it. The problem begins when a human opinion is presented as an obligation in the name of Allah.
Why do we not choose one madhhab?
The reason is very simple: we have not found in the Quran a requirement "follow a specific madhhab." Allah requires following His guidance, which was conveyed through the Messenger, while the ways of human understanding of this guidance may differ.
Sometimes in response to this, people say: "But the Quran says to follow the Prophet" or "Take what the Messenger gives you." At first glance, this seems like a strong argument, but if we look more closely, there are several important clarifications here.
First, the expression "take what the Messenger gives you" appears in the context of distributing property after a military event, so its direct application as a general principle of following all subsequent reports requires separate justification. Second, following the Prophet is not the same as following a madhhab. And third, following the Prophet is not the same as automatically considering every hadith to be a direct and unconditional word of the Prophet.
A hadith is a transmission, and a transmission is not equal to the event itself, even if that transmission is considered authentic. That every hadith deemed authentic according to a particular methodology truly and accurately conveys the Prophet's words is a question that requires separate justification. One may say as much as one likes that this is proven, but for a modern person, this is not an area where there is absolute, direct, and obvious verification. This is not about complete authenticity in a mathematical sense but about probability. And on probability alone, one cannot build obligatory religious conclusions if it concerns what Allah supposedly made obligatory for everyone.
Therefore, we distinguish between following the Quran, respect for prophetic practice, and human attempts to transmit and systematize this practice through hadiths and legal schools. These are not the same thing.
Our approach
We proceed from a fairly simple principle. If any matter is clearly established in the Quran, we accept it without hesitation. If the issue concerns human interpretation or practical details that the Quran does not directly establish, we do not consider it possible to declare one option obligatory in the name of Allah. This is where the main distinction lies.
When the Quran contains a general concept but a specific detail is left within the scope of free choice, we may consider the Prophet's practice, accept it as a useful guide, and respect it. But we cannot automatically turn such practice into a religious obligation. Why? Because some of the Prophet's actions were tied to the specific circumstances of his time, while other rulings have a universal character. Therefore, it is important to distinguish between these levels. And if a particular detail were obligatory for all times and all places, Allah could have directly established it in the Quran. But He did not.
And this is not an oversight. Allah knew full well that the world would change, that eras would change, that living conditions would change, and that some things at a certain time and in a certain place might become impracticable if fixed as a rigid norm in the Quran itself. Therefore, the absence of such a detail in the Quran may signify not an omission but an intentional freedom.
If a person uses a madhhab as a tool to better understand the text and reach a conclusion—that is one thing. If a madhhab becomes a way to divide people into "us" and "them" —that is something else entirely. And here it is important to remember: Allah Himself calls not to division but to unity.
"And hold fast, all of you together, to the rope of Allah, and do not become divided"
(Quran, 3:103)
For example, prayer (Salah)
The Quran clearly establishes the existence of prayer. Therefore, to say, "There is no prayer in the Quran" would be incorrect. But at the same time, another question arises: if a person performs prayer relying only on what is directly established in the Quran, can anyone prove that such a prayer is invalid specifically from the Quran's perspective?
The dispute in such a case would no longer be about whether prayer exists but about which details are established by Allah and which pertain to human transmission and practice.
Usually, arguments from tradition begin to be cited. And this is normal. But then it is important to honestly distinguish between one thing—historical practice—and quite another—the assertion that Allah specifically made a certain detail obligatory.
Why are we at ease with different variations?
For example, one madhhab recommends holding the hands above the navel, another below, and a third differs in some details of hand positioning or recitation. We see no reason to declare one variation the only correct one. If an action does not contradict the Quran and remains within Islamic practice, it can certainly exist as a permissible variation. But turning one variation into an obligatory law for everyone is a different assertion. And any obligation requires a clear foundation.
The same applies to simpler examples. If the Prophet used a miswak, this does not mean that the miswak becomes a sacred object and that toothpaste is impermissible. The meaning of following the Prophet here is not in literally copying the external form of every detail. The meaning is to preserve the purpose of the action. In this case—care for oral hygiene. Today, this purpose can be achieved with both miswak and a toothbrush and toothpaste. Therefore, following the Prophet does not always mean repeating the exact external tool. Sometimes it means understanding the principle behind the action.
Why does this not mean that everyone should create their own religion?
Sometimes we are told: "If everyone reads the Quran for themselves, there will be a million different Islams." This is an important question and cannot be ignored.
But independent reflection does not mean that every person becomes their own Prophet. The Quran remains one. Difference arises not from the text itself but from human understanding. This is precisely why arguments, language, context, and honest analysis are needed. Reflection does not destroy religion—it helps distinguish revelation from human opinion.
Where does our boundary lie?
Our principle is fairly simple. If something is directly established in the Quran—we accept it as obligatory. If something represents historical practice, reasonable explanation, or human interpretation that does not contradict the Quran—we can regard it with respect and consider it permissible. But if it is claimed that a particular detail is obligatory for all Muslims, a natural question arises: on what basis is this obligation attributed to Allah?
It is precisely this question that lies at the heart of most of our research.
We are not creating a new madhhab
Sometimes we are asked: "So, are you creating a fifth madhhab?" No. A madhhab is a complete legal school with its own system of binding conclusions. We are not creating such a system, do not propose our own code of rules, and do not call people to join any new group.
Our task is considerably more modest. We examine the Quran, consider the historical context, analyze human interpretations, and ask the question: on what is this or that religious conclusion based?
We do not argue for the sake of arguing
Our project is not created to persuade traditional Muslims or engage in endless polemics. We fully understand that most people have grown up within a particular religious tradition. This is natural, and we regard it with respect.
HoopoeLab is not a place for fighting people. It is a place for calm research. If someone wants to discuss arguments—we are always open to substantive conversation. If someone prefers to remain within their school, that is their right. The Quran does not forbid a person from reflecting, but neither does it force them to accept our conclusions.
Conclusion
We do not consider madhhabs enemies of Islam. We consider them part of the history of Islamic thought. But the history of Islamic thought is not the Quran itself. Therefore, the main criterion for us remains not the name of the school, not the name of the scholar, and not affiliation with a particular tradition. The main criterion remains the words of Allah.
Everything else we are prepared to study, respect, discuss, and analyze. But only after it has passed the test through the Quran. This is precisely why we do not affiliate ourselves with any madhhab—not because we reject them, but because we believe that the ultimate criterion for us is not affiliation with a human school but conformity with divine revelation.