Globalisation

By Ibraheem A. Waziri

(My other essay, Against The Hadith Problem, discussed how Muslim empires in the past lived on a quartet of paradigms produced through the synthesis between the Qur’an, the body of Hadith, and reason. That provoked questions regarding the future of Muslim societies and states, hence these reflections and projections into 2075.)

It is 2075, and the world I walk through feels at once strange and familiar. The glass towers still gleam, drones still hum, algorithms still rule, yet beneath the circuitry there is a slower pulse: the rhythm of old fiqh and older faith.

For all our talk half a century ago of a secular age, the present belongs to hybridity. Constitutions speak the language of the Qur’an without calling it revelation. Western democracies borrow the moral grammar of Medina without feeling conquered. The four old schools of law (Mālikī, Shāfiʿī, Ḥanafī and Ḥanbalī) and the three great theologies (Ashʿarī, Māturīdī and Atharī) are no longer museum exhibits. They are living systems quietly moderating the noise of modernity.

West Africa: The Mālikī Republics

I began this journey in Abuja. The city has doubled in size, but its heart beats in rhythm with the Mālikī canon. In the courthouse, digital panels display sections from Mukhtaṣar Khalīl beside constitutional clauses. When a judge calculates inheritance shares, the algorithm he uses is Mālikī too: transparent, fair and incorruptible.

Even non-Muslim states around the Sahel now use these formulas. Ghana’s civil code borrows Mālikī inheritance rules, while Benin’s marriage registry follows the Islamic ʿaqd nikāḥ (marital contract) model because it ensures equity and consent better than the older colonial templates.

Banking has gone moral. Nigeria’s hybrid finance sector runs on maṣlaḥa-based smart contracts, while interest systems survive only in history syllabi. The ulama sit on the Council of Moral Economies, auditing state budgets for ethical imbalance. “Sharia,” an elderly economist told me, “is not our government; it is our conscience.”

Arabia: The Neo-Atharī Technocracy

From the Sahel, I flew east to Riyadh. The skyline looks like circuitry: solar glass towers, sky bridges humming with data. The Atharī–Hanbalī paradigm still shapes law, but it is encoded now in a literal sense. Hanbalī jurists work with AI engineers who have trained “Hadith logic engines” to map rulings from canonical texts.

The constitution speaks of dual sovereignty: divine law for the moral order, human law for function. A court clerk showed me how every regulatory draft is first run through an algorithm trained on Ibn Ḥanbal and Ibn Taymiyyah, then reviewed by human jurists.

Even cinema has turned pious. Historical dramas about early scholars play in multiplexes. Young Saudis quote Ibn Ḥanbal as easily as they quote quantum code. The result is not rigidity but confidence. They see tradition not as a wall but as a coordinate system for the future.

Southeast Asia: The Shāfiʿī–Ashʿarī Democracy

Jakarta feels like the world’s conscience. The call to prayer threads through a metropolis of electric trams and vertical gardens. The parliament convenes only after the Majlis al-Maqāṣid, the Council of Objectives, certifies that each bill meets four of Sharia’s six ethical aims: life, intellect, property, faith, lineage and justice.

This “maqāṣid democracy” has become the envy of the developing world. Corruption is rare because legislation itself is filtered through moral metrics. University students still memorise al-Nawawī and al-Ghazālī, but they also code in Python and quote maqāṣid theory in debates on climate law.

Shāfiʿī jurisprudence has not stifled freedom; it has disciplined it. A new civic pride glows here. Islam and democracy are no longer hyphenated; they are married.

Ankara: The Ḥanafī–Māturīdī Continuum

And then there is Turkey, the quiet custodian of the Ottoman inheritance. Its universities still teach Māturīdī theology as the bridge between revelation and rationalism. The state calls itself secular, yet its courts and social policy breathe Ḥanafī air.

In 2075, the High Directorate of Moral Logic, a successor to the old Diyanet, reviews every national reform for philosophical balance: does it protect reason (aql) and faith (īmān) equally? The framework is pure Māturīdī.

Turkey’s digital constitution, ratified in 2060, encodes “Ḥanafī modularity,” a principle allowing law to flex with circumstance. The same logic shapes its AI governance, its family law, and even its diplomacy.

From Istanbul outward, this Ḥanafī–Māturīdī ethos has spilt into Central Asia and the Indian subcontinent. Uzbekistan’s civic schools teach both Avicenna and al-Māturīdī. Pakistani fintech startups run on ḥiyal-based smart contracts. The Ottoman blend of faith and rational statecraft has found its second life in circuitry and policy code.

Europe: The Mālikī Renaissance

In Paris, I walked past a law office advertising “Islamic Equity Contracts.” Mālikī inheritance rules, once exotic, are now embedded in the French civil code for their mathematical clarity. Every December, the city hosts La Nuit des Saints, honouring figures from both faiths such as ʿAbd al-Qādir al-Jazāʾirī, Rābiʿa al-ʿAdawiyya and Francis of Assisi. The night ends with poetry readings under the Louvre’s glass dome.

Across the Channel, the United Kingdom has normalised Sharia arbitration. The Hanafi–Maturidi tradition, brought long ago by South Asian immigrants, is now part of national legal pluralism. Judges quote Abū Ḥanīfa in footnotes. Friday sermons mingle Qur’an with Shakespeare, and the term Anglo-Muslim has lost its hyphen; it has become a cultural fact.

The Global Drift Towards Muslim Norms

What surprises me most in 2075 is not conversion, though that too has surged, but imitation. The world has adopted Muslim social standards almost unconsciously.

The ʿaqd nikāḥ, once seen as a religious marriage, is now the global model for civil unions, prized for its symmetry and consent clauses. UN inheritance reforms draw on Mālikī logic for equitable estate division. Even secular citizens in Europe and East Asia now choose contracts modelled after fiqh because they feel fairer, cleaner and more human.

Reverence for saintly figures, long dismissed as superstition, has made a comeback. Shrines to al-Ghazālī, Rūmī, Ibn ʿArabī and even non-Muslim sages now form a new “pilgrim’s circuit of wisdom.” Modern psychology calls it “ancestral grounding.” We simply call it barakah.

As for conversions, some call them reversions; they grow yearly. Not by the sword of argument, but by exhaustion. People wanted meaning, proportion and discipline. They found it in Islam’s cadence: prayer as pause, zakat as fairness, fasting as freedom from appetite. In Europe, nearly one in five now identifies as Muslim or Muslim-shaped; in North America, one in ten. Many of them began not with belief but with admiration for the order that belief produced.

The Entangled Civilisation

By 2075, no state is purely Islamic or Western. The categories have dissolved.

The UN’s Council on Civilisational Ethics opens its sessions with verses from the Qur’an alongside Kantian aphorisms. Global digital charters cite ʿadl, justice, as their guiding principle. Algorithms that allocate water or distribute vaccines carry lines of fiqh-based code to ensure fairness.

The old paradigms have not conquered the world; they have simply proven indispensable. Mālikī–Ashʿarī, Shāfiʿī–Ashʿarī, Ḥanafī–Māturīdī and Ḥanbalī–Atharī each remain alive, shaping ethics, finance, law and art. Their jurists now sit on international boards beside secular philosophers, arguing about AI morality and interplanetary law. The conversation is no longer between faith and reason, but between kinds of reason.

A Closing Reflection

As I write this letter from a café in Fez, the call to prayer blends with the hum of an electric tram. A group of students nearby, Muslim, Christian and atheist, argue over a verse from the Qur’an, not as a theological claim but as a piece of political philosophy. The verse speaks of balance: “We made you a middle community.”

Perhaps that is what we have become by 2075: a middle community for a weary planet. The Western world brought machinery; Islam preserved measure. Together they built a civilisation that still argues, still hopes and still prays. The paradigms the world once thought ancient turned out to be the most modern of all.

By Alkasim Harisu

Thanks to the rapid growth of technology, the world witnesses an absolute change. Technology has afforded the world a one-in-a-million chance to communicate with people all around the globe. Distance, inarguably, can no longer hinder communication. The world, as Marshall McLuhan posits, has been reduced to a global village. Thus, the emergence of cellular phones has, doubtless, permitted people access to all parts of the world. 

Lump it or not, the phone, the above notwithstanding, is a curse in disguise. That is why it is described as a blessworthy and curseworthy thing, occupying the minds of the youth. The sudden spread of the phone has necessitated the proliferation of social media platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, WhatsApp, Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat, etc. What a breakthrough!

Those virtual platforms have become a commonplace occurrence. Everyone has their favourite social media handle and may be addicted to it or them. Some people own more than one handle. Honestly, chilling and relaxing constitute one of the biggest whys people can’t be less addicted to SM. This answers the question of the use or purpose of motivating the youth to join SM.

Day in, day out, people feel duty-bound to Facebook one another. On running out of data, many of us feel like nothing on earth. Some look like death warmed over. We toil to buy data to watch trivialities. Still, SM is, undoubtedly, a tool for knowledge. The Internet is today the most significant school, the most extensive library and the most learned and experienced teacher. There is virtual, nothing one can’t access, learn, or do on the Internet.

The SM platforms make athenaeums where everyone sells their ideas to the world. The political moguls, being attention-cravers, exploit the medium to attain a considerable following. The baddies, like the wind, sell and buy sex on the platforms. Evil-minded people, so also all forms of vulgarities, avail themselves of the opportunity to win popularity.  As smartphones overshadow all other forms of phones, phonephilia among the youth rapidly thickens.

The level our youth are addicted to phones defies any stress, no matter how obvious. Many youths can’t help surf the net or go online when ailing. I hope this addiction will not accompany them to old age. Instagramming to see ladies’ pictures is a notable reason some of us buy phones. As a result, when our phones do not tweet, Facebook or WhatsApp well, we, without a second thought, look for money to buy better phones. We can do all sorts of jobs to get enough to buy the phones.

Addiction to phones is continuously gaining momentum. I once got my phone faulty. At the moment, the coronavirus pandemic was hitting India hard. I felt an excruciating pain piercing my heart. I could not sleep the night without a phone. As a result, I borrowed a friend’s laptop to keep me company. It was a great difficulty for one to get out of the four walls of our university following the devastating, quick spread of the virus. Fortunately, there is a bank neighbouring it. Thus I used it to excuse my request to go out. Heading to the gatekeepers, I pretended to be going to the bank to correct a problem troubling my account. Instead, I hasted to a market at a nearby place called Gangrar. Having my phone fixed, I  intended a return to school. My return, unluckily, exposed me. Personnel keeping the gate saw me coming toward the school. My pleading a lot softened his heart. Thus, he forgave me. Had he not pardoned me, I would have received a two-week quarantine. 

It is a prodigious task for us to part ways with phones. It is a great difficulty, if not a sheer impossibility, to afford to remove ourselves from phones for two days, or even one, at the very least. I am at a loss for words to think of how to divorce our lives from these gadgets. Our addiction to phones has significantly deprived us of our immature reading culture. Students, nowadays, prefer watching videos on SM to reading. Our books gather dust because they don’t receive reading or talk of good care. Many of us hate to read even short write-ups on SM.

We, moreover, habitually don’t recite going-to-bed and waking-up prayers. It astounds me to see people, upon completing prayers, bring out their phones. They don’t care to say the rosary, not to talk of praying to Allah for guidance. About this, I have firsthand knowledge. Phones enjoy the youth market. The market, or proportion of the phone-buying youth, is overwhelming. Our societies now swarm with mollycoddles whose parents buy them sophisticated phones—consequently, the number of young people who abuse the phone trebles. 

The setbacks social media bring to us are too many to mention and discuss. We, nevertheless, can monitor it. In this connection, I recommend the following:

1. Parents should exercise their duty more carefully. They should not buy their children phones at tender ages. They should also know that proper parenthood does not mean buying their children their wants. Because coddling children is tantamount to spoiling them rotten.  

2. The government should also exercise all the options at its disposal to rid children of phone addiction. For instance, it can recruit good teachers in schools, legislate the age of phone possession and ban less important and vulgar SM handles.

3. Schools should frequently organise debates and quizzes to allow students to exercise their brains. They should also ban the usage of phones in a class by teachers. 

4. society should go to great lengths to watch how youngsters use phones and combat phone abuse by either seizing or reporting the concerned kids to their parents/guardians. More so, society should preach ethics and patience to the youth.

In conclusion, the youth are the leaders of tomorrow. Hence, we must do our best to police their phone usage. We must be extra vigilant about the friends they make at school and at home. Today, one can almost access all sorts of knowledge on social media. Instead of spending our data and time on trivial things, why shouldn’t we watch educative videos on YouTube or subscribe to other well-meaning pages on SM? Because, as a matter of fact, the Internet, believe it or not, is the largest school this epoch has seen.

Alkasim Hariru wrote from Kano. He can be reached via alkasabba10@gmail.com.

By Aminu Rabiu Kano

If there is one vexing question that has continuously engaged the attention of stakeholders worldwide, it is certainly about the future of a classroom teacher in the ever-changing global world. No doubt, the role of a teacher is critical in building and sustaining a healthy and responsible society. Indeed, the future of any thriving community rests in the teacher’s pivotal role to progressively impart valuable lessons and skills to children. But then the world is fast evolving, from one era to another, thereby altering the modus operandi of several human activities, teaching and learning inclusive.

In the 21st century, the world has witnessed so much transformation in virtually every aspect of human life, with technology leading the way into a more digital world. The change brought upon by the technological revolution has had a tremendous impact on every facet of human interaction. Recently, the Covid-19 pandemic has shocked the entire world as physical human interactions were curtailed, thereby bringing a paradigm shift in man’s understanding of his environment.

Specifically, the education sector is affected by the changes constantly happening in and around the world. Naturally, this raises serious questions about the role of a teacher. As globally recognized, a teacher everywhere possesses some latitude of power and influence, which earns him respect in society. But since the world is witnessing tremendous changes that have never been seen before, some urgent questions arise that are pertinent to a teacher’s continued relevance.

On the one hand, a teacher is expected to help students learn by imparting knowledge and setting up a situation in which students can and will learn effectively. While on the other hand, he (teacher) is faced with the daunting task of introducing a novel, pragmatic approach to learning to be at par with changes in the world. While the task is enormous, it is still humanly possible for a teacher to deliver his primary functions while at the same time leading with power and influence.

Research by Kappa Delta Pi (2015) discovered that little value occurs in any classroom without excellent teacher preparation to lead students. This implies that the leadership skills possessed by a particular teacher have a tremendous impact on learning outcomes. A teacher, in this context, is equated with a senior policymaker whose ability to lead the way for progressive policies and handle complex issues has a direct impact on the happiness of a vast number of people.

A teacher is thus not seen as a leader with limited influence and power but a leader of all students, of people large and small. Therefore, teacher leadership is an inescapable reality. In essence, I am saying that in a bid to maintain and even augment their relevance in a changing world, teachers must possess some leadership skills to meet students’ demands.

Secondly, for teachers to remain relevant and influential in a fast-changing world, they must be an agent of change. But in order not to misunderstand change with fashion, a teacher must do some research to be able to glean the source, nature, character, prospects, and challenges of any change mantra. This means understanding the politics of change and collaborating with like minds in pushing for a progressive change in all aspects of human life. By so doing, the teacher extends the reach of his leadership empire beyond the four walls of a classroom.

Thirdly, for a teacher to continue wielding enormous power and influence, he must do all he can to produce students who not only keenly observe but clearly understand what is happening around them. Therefore, the onus is on the teacher to train his students and imbue them with the mindset of identifying problems in their immediate society and investing their efforts towards solving them. In this light, skills such as critical thinking and problem-solving are pivotal.

Finally,  a teacher can only lead with power and influence in a changing world if he is adaptable. Adaptability in this context implies the readiness and ability of the teacher to receive, internalize, support, and promote positive changes. Therefore, as the world moves to a digital era, the teacher must embrace technology to deliver lessons. For instance, the Covid-19 pandemic has resulted in the closure of schools and other institutions of learning, thereby disrupting academic activities. This notwithstanding, in some climes, teachers resorted to using technology for lessons delivery. By way of advice, a teacher must leverage technological gadgets to produce students with a digital mindset.

Aminu Rabiu Kano is a political and public affairs commentator. He can be reached via arabiukano@gmail.com.

By Safwan Suhaib Ibrahim

Culture, just like science, is never static. As we read more, travel more and impinge more and more on one another through trade, schools, international and religious organizations, our culture and behaviour patterns become heterogeneous – more cosmopolitanised. As people who are committed to the acquirement of wealth and knowledge for the power and insight they give, we must accept the challenges (?) they come with, which is, “Cultural Dynamism”.

Culture, to put it in a mild way, does not only centre on customs and attitudes inherited from our predecessors or the circulation of folktales by word of mouth. It’s also a formal way of training the young in a body of knowledge or creed, borrowing techniques and fashions of others, adopting and selling new ideas or products. Thus, cultural homogeneity is our – everybody’s – way of life.

It’s often not realised, least of all by a layman, that culture is a step further from people’s traditional food, dress, language, music and ceremonies; rather, it’s the people themselves and the society they live in. The human being is an evolutionary animal who is always assimilating new changes brought about by the socioeconomic wind. As we live, we design our culture and we also get designed by it. The everyday flirtation of native dress, songs, dances and language, skin colour or faith are never what exactly our culture is; they only represent a wee portion of it. Our ideas, our ties, our standards and the logic we reflect on a specific problem that confronts us speak more about our culture. 

We – Hausa – have perpetually claimed to be a unique breed of people who despise, or claim to despise, copying others, especially the Western world, though our current moral attitudes and ceremonies are in no way different from theirs. We’re now men of two worlds. So, It’s, of course, a sheer delusion for some of us to pretend to reject everything they’ve acquired from foreign culture simply because it’s “foreign”, but it’s not foolish to rescue one’s culture from total extinction. There’s a need for the revival of awareness of Hausa culture with its great philosophy and epos of music and poetry, dress and language and its ancient literature, but not a total rejection of foreign or alien culture; for that’s as illusive as self-defeating. 

Lest I be misunderstood, I’m not denying that foreign culture or ideas cannot have a destabilising influence on us (of course they do), but I believe there are some that impart a new impulse that prods us to create a new method of organisation and new hope for development. Thus, before we start thinking of driving those alien cultures and ideologies away, we need to study our culture and our people well. We need to start from the basics. That’s, I think, there’s a wider conception of our culture which we give little or no particular emphasis that needs to be tapped now.

Our respect for elders, hospitality to strangers, our feeling of brotherhood and community, our mutual aid for the provision of support and development of services like health protection and education, our freedom of expression, our readiness to provide an economic surplus to neighbours which was so deep-rooted in us that none was allowed to starve, wander in the street or suffer when there’s anything could be done to help him out, and our democratic statecrafts are all but an adventure to us and our progeny. Don’t you think the fight should be on our abstract, not physical culture? 

Safwan Suhaib Ibrahim sent this article via bagwaisafwan@gmail.com.