Ibn Taymiyyah, often hailed as “the Sheikh of Islam of his era,” was a scholar of immense learning, eloquence, and persuasive power, whose prolific writings left a lasting imprint. Yet his beliefs were also shaped by the turbulence of the medieval world, one scarred by wars and massacres. Taymiyyah lived through the devastating invasions of the Tatars and Mongols, experiences that profoundly influenced his worldview. Confronted with relentless violence, Taymiyyah’s thinking hardened around the notion of the “external enemy” and became anchored in the logic of conflict. This outlook permeated his legal opinions, many of which carried a spirit of exclusion and sanctioned violence—allowing for the killing or enslavement of those who rejected his beliefs.

The Qur’an reminds us that religious diversity is a part of the divine order—“And if your Lord had willed, He would have made mankind one community”—r, a reality meant to foster dialogue, mutual understanding, and creative exchange. Yet Ibn Taymiyyah’s jurisprudence often shut the door to such engagement, privileging confrontation over dialogue. 

In today’s age—an era that has transcended borders and embraced the principle of “no compulsion in religion”—it is neither possible nor desirable to adopt fatwas conceived in a radically different historical context. Fourteen centuries of intellectual evolution have reshaped human understanding. Some of those medieval rulings, however, have been appropriated as the foundation for extremist interpretations that justify violence and legitimize takfir. Such uses stand in stark opposition to modern values and the universal principles of human rights.

Some people are not ashamed to continue to use terms such as "slavery,"  even after 1,400 years of human development, intellectual progress, and the concept of humanity, as if they were living outside of time.

Ibn Taymiyyah should be understood within the context of his own era. Yet cannot allow that same historical context to dictate our minds and consciences today. The Qur’an itself reminds us in Surah Yusuf: “Indeed, We have sent it down as an Arabic Qur’an, so that you may understand.” The call is to engage with the text through reason and reflection, not to follow blindly or remain imprisoned in rigid thought.

But where does our intellect stand now? Centuries ago, the philosophical legacy of Ibn Sina and Ibn Rushd was severed, leaving a gap that has yet to be fully restored. Today, free thought and scientific inquiry are too often stifled, branded as apostasy or excommunication by fundamentalist currents that have multiplied in recent decades. The result is a climate where intellectual vitality is threatened, and the very spirit of inquiry that the Qur’an enjoins risks being extinguished.