The respected Khatib of Baitul Mukarram National Mosque is one of the distinguished Islamic scholars of Bangladesh. As far as I know, he has considerable expertise in Hadith and Fiqh. Although I have never had the opportunity to meet him personally, I have read several of his books and benefited from them. I hold him in deep respect and affection for his knowledge, simplicity, and unostentatious way of life.
Recently, one of his statements has sparked extensive discussion and criticism on social media, with people expressing both support and opposition. Whether one agrees or disagrees with his statement is, in itself, perfectly natural.
Everyone has the right to express their views on the basis of their own knowledge, thought, understanding, and perspective. He, too, presented his views from the standpoint of his own understanding and perspective, exercising that right.
Likewise, disagreeing with a statement and critically examining its reasoning, evidence, methodology, or manner of presentation are equally legitimate rights. Indeed, accepting someone's statements blindly and uncritically runs counter to the very essence of intellectual inquiry.
Accordingly, if any part of the Khatib's statement appears unreasonable, incomplete, or inadequately substantiated to someone, raising questions about it and offering a reasoned critique of its arguments and presentation should not be regarded as unusual. Rather, such scrutiny is a natural part of responsible and constructive intellectual engagement.
However, criticism must not be conflated with disrespect. Identifying weaknesses in the reasoning of a statement, inconsistencies in its factual claims, or limitations in its perspective constitutes intellectual criticism. Attacking the speaker's knowledge, personality, age, physical appearance, or dignity, however, goes beyond the proper bounds of criticism.
In the recent reactions, some expressions and behaviours on both sides have, to varying degrees, crossed this line. This is regrettable and reflects poorly on all concerned. What is particularly unfortunate is that when differences of opinion among the community of Islamic scholars degenerate into abusive language and hostile exchanges, ordinary people may cease to view them as constructive intellectual debates and instead treat them merely as a source of entertainment.
This not only undermines the dignity of the individuals concerned but may also adversely affect public respect for the scholarly community as a whole. Therefore, however sharp the differences of opinion may be, it is essential to maintain decorum in language, courtesy in conduct, and fairness in judgment, particularly when dealing with senior scholars.
It hardly needs to be said that respecting someone does not mean agreeing with everything they say. One may hold a scholar's knowledge and contributions in high esteem while subjecting a particular statement of theirs to rigorous criticism. Conversely, criticising a particular statement does not necessarily mean denying the person's overall knowledge, character, or contributions. Keeping the dignity of the individual distinct from the evaluation of their statements is both fair and intellectually mature.
After listening to his statement, I, too, attempted in one of my posts to raise certain questions and offer my personal assessment while maintaining due respect. My principal objection concerns the manner and methodology of his presentation, not the fundamental subject matter of his statement or his right to discuss it.
It seemed to me that, in his criticism, the expected concern for rectification and sincere goodwill was, in places, overshadowed by a relatively stronger expression of frustration.
Of course, individuals naturally differ in their speaking styles, choice of words, and modes of expression. It would therefore be inappropriate to reach a definitive conclusion about someone's intentions merely on the basis of how they present their views.
Nevertheless, when the ideas, statements, or activities of an individual or organisation appear objectionable, they may certainly be criticised. The more such criticism is grounded in reason, expressed with restraint, and motivated by sincere concern for the good of others, the greater its potential to be both persuasive and effective.
In particular, when he spoke about Iqamat al-Din (establishing the Deen of Allah), the discussion could have been more constructive had he accurately presented Jamaat-e-Islami's understanding of Iqamat al-Din and its methodology for pursuing that objective, critically examined them on the basis of relevant evidence and arguments, and clearly articulated his own perspective in the light of the Qur'an and Sunnah, supported by relevant scholarly research.
This would have transformed the discussion from a reaction centred on individuals or political organisations into a well-substantiated intellectual examination. In my assessment, this approach was not sufficiently reflected in his discussion on that occasion.
Another point deserves consideration here: the impact of criticism depends not only on its substance but also on how it is presented. The same argument, when conveyed with sound reasoning, courtesy, and sincere concern, can gain people's acceptance. Conversely, a harsh or resentful tone may provoke an adverse reaction even to an otherwise valid argument.
In my view, the adverse reactions to the Khatib's statement have arisen partly from the manner in which it was presented, in addition to the substance of the statement itself.
However, this shortcoming is not unique to him. Many of us who do not regularly speak before public audiences share this weakness to varying degrees. We may have a matter very clearly and systematically organised in our minds, yet struggle to communicate it to listeners with the same clarity, coherence, fluency, and eloquence.
The ability to deliver a beautiful and persuasive discourse is also a special blessing from Allah. A person may possess profound knowledge and considerable research expertise, yet have comparatively less ability to communicate that knowledge before a public audience in language that is accessible, fluent, measured, and engaging.
Therefore, the depth of one's knowledge and one's skill in public speaking should not be treated as one and the same thing. If a scholar has shortcomings in presenting an argument, it would be inappropriate to turn those shortcomings into a measure of the scholar's knowledge or overall competence.
His personality and the context of his responsibilities also merit consideration. In my observation, he is primarily a diligent, knowledge-seeking, and research-oriented scholar. Teaching, instruction, tarbiyah (moral and spiritual development), study, and writing constitute his natural sphere of activity. It may not always be realistic to expect a simple and unassuming person who has spent much of his life immersed in scholarship and teaching to be equally adept at navigating political manoeuvres, administrative dynamics, and institutional complexities.
This is because proficiency in scholarship and teaching is not identical to the strategic competence required to deal with political and administrative realities. People who are equally proficient in both spheres are not particularly numerous in society.
On the other hand, the responsibilities of the Khatib of Baitul Mukarram National Mosque cannot be fully equated with those of the khatibs of other mosques. The role is inherently multifaceted. It is not merely a position of religious leadership; it also involves social, political, and institutional considerations, along with various sensitive realities. People from different social backgrounds and professional groups across the country also have diverse expectations of the person holding this position.
Consequently, fulfilling such a multifaceted responsibility is naturally challenging for a scholar whose disposition is simple, whose inclinations are academic, and whose life is deeply rooted in the pursuit of knowledge. This reality should not prevent us from offering fair criticism of any of his statements. Nevertheless, it is only just to consider the multifaceted nature of his responsibilities and the broader context when evaluating his statements and conduct.
In short, the Khatib's statements may certainly be subjected to reasoned criticism if anyone considers them unreasonable. Their weaknesses, inconsistencies, and limitations may also be identified. Such criticism, however, must be evidence-based, rational, constructive, and courteous. Differences of opinion are inevitable, and criticism is legitimate; but disagreement must not degenerate into disrespect or disdain for the person concerned.
Above all, differences of opinion among Islamic scholars must not become material for abusive exchanges on social media or a source of entertainment for the general public. If we genuinely wish to uphold knowledge, truth (al-Haqq), and the common good, we must preserve a culture of adab (proper scholarly and ethical conduct), courtesy, and insaf (fairness and impartiality) even amid our disagreements.
Ideas can be criticised rigorously without disrespecting the individuals who hold them. Indeed, criticism grounded in sound reasoning and expressed in respectful language is often the most effective and constructive form of criticism.