When “Qur’an and Sunna” Become Slogans: Why Recognising Islam’s Plural Interpretive Traditions Is Our First Defense Against Islamist Extremism

When “Qur’an and Sunna” Become Slogans: Why Recognising Islam’s Plural Interpretive Traditions Is Our First Defense Against Islamist Extremism

By Adis Duderija

When it comes to understanding  Islam, there is a truth that some people don’t want to hear, namely the idea that although from the very beginning of Islam, Muslims have appealed to the Qur’an and Sunna for guidance in matters of belief, ethics, law, and politics yet these same sources, across centuries and continents,  have been used—often in good faith, sometimes in bad—to justify profoundly different theologies and value systems, from mystical universalism to strict legal formalism, from quietist piety to revolutionary activism. That historical fact is not necessarily a deficiency of the tradition ( “Islam” is after all an idea constructed by human minds like any other religion) ; it is a reality of interpretation. Acknowledging this reality  is the first, necessary step to avoiding the ideological traps of movements that claim exclusive ownership of “true” Qur’an and Sunna—most dangerously, jihadist salafism.

Plural paths under a shared canopy

Consider how diverse mainstream orientations are, even when they affirm the same scriptural sources. Legal madhhabists (neo-classical traditionalists) emphasize continuity with the jurisprudential schools, prioritizing consensus (ijmāʿ), legal methodology (uṣūl al-fiqh), and the prudential wisdom of past jurists. They often adopt semi-contextual readings, valuing stability over innovation and preferring ethical gradualism to political disruption. By contrast, progressive Muslim thinkers foreground human dignity, and contextual reasoning; they read scripture with a hermeneutic sensitive to historical contingency and contemporary human rights discourses. Sufi orientations center spiritual formation (iḥsān), the cultivation of virtue and humility before God, and a metaphysics that tempers legalism with compassion and inward transformation. Moderate revivalists and reformist Islamists thread the needle between tradition and reform, drawing on maqāṣid and maṣlaḥa to engage public life without abandoning scholastic inheritance. Meanwhile, liberal/secular profiles relocate Islam’s authority chiefly to conscience and culture, arguing for a private faith compatible with plural public orders.

Each of these orientations claims continuity with the Qur’an and Sunna, and—crucially—each can point to respected pre-modern and modern authorities to support its methods. In other words, diversity in interpretation is constitutive of the tradition’s lived history. The question for is not whether there is one “pure” reading, but which interpretive regime best answers today’s ethical challenges while remaining accountable to shared textual canons and the moral thrust of Islam.

How exclusivist slogans turn into ideological weapons

Jihadist Salafism ,akin to its theological cousin Salafism,  thrives by collapsing this rich plurality into a single, weaponized slogan: “Follow Qur’an and Sunna.” Their claim appears pious, but it hides an absolutist methodology. They equate their highly textualist, decontextualized, and literalist hermeneutic with divine will. They strip away centuries of juristic prudence, ethical reasoning, and spiritual cultivation; dismiss scholarly disagreement as weakness; and rebrand complex legal categories into binary choices of loyalty and enmity.

This method is not simply different; it is structurally dangerous. By flattening interpretive complexity into slogans, it licensees violence against those who dissent, sacralizes political power as “religious duty,” and converts ordinary believers into gatekeepers of orthodoxy who police the boundaries of permissible thought. The result is not the “purification” of religion but its instrumentalisation.

The anatomy of a trap

How does the trap work? First, jihadist salafism often narrows the field of authority to selected hadith and exegetical fragments that serve pre-decided conclusions. Second, it reframes ambiguous verses as clear-cut legal commands, ignoring genre, rhetoric, and context. Third, it delegitimizes dissent by pathologizing disagreement as bidʿa (blameworthy innovation) or hypocrisy. Fourth, it exploits modern grievances—foreign policy, state repression, socio-economic precarity—to infuse textual claims with affective urgency, creating a moral economy that rewards certainty and punishes nuance. Finally, it builds a vanguard identity around sacrifice and purity, turning interpretive rigidity into existential belonging.

This is why our first line of defense is intellectual: we must recognize that invoking “Qur’an and Sunna” does not determine outcomes. Methods do. The lenses through which we read—legal theory, historical consciousness, ethical purpose, spiritual formation—shape what we see.

A map that keeps us honest

What can keep us from sliding into these traps? We need a public map of Islam’s contemporary orientations, one that explains—not caricatures—their sources of normativity, interpretive methods, and political stances. A typology helps communities ask better questions:

• Authority & interpretation: Does an orientation rely primarily on juristic consensus and uṣūl, on textual literalism, on  maqāṣid and ethical teleology, on mystical-experiential insight, or on secular critique?
• Hermeneutic posture: Is it textualist, contextualist, liberationist, mystical, rational-ethical?
• Political stance: Quietist, reformist, civic-engaged, or revolutionary?
• Ethical emphasis: Preservationist norms vs. gender-just reform; exclusivism vs. pluralism.

Once these axes are on the table, it becomes clearer where claims to “true Islam“ are method claims masquerading as divine certainty.

Epistemic humility is not relativism

Acknowledging interpretive plurality does not mean “anything goes.” It means recognizing that responsible readings are accountable to multiple constraints: textual evidence, legal method, ethical purposes, empirical realities, and the prophetic model of moral formation. Epistemic humility—admitting our readings are fallible—is an antidote to ideological maximalism. It fosters deliberation, reduces moral injury caused by coercive certainties, and creates room for course correction when interpretations produce harm.

By contrast, the jihadist and  salafi posture treats humility as weakness. It demands unmediated certainty and punishes complexity. Historically, whenever theology has fused with totalizing politics, religious discourse becomes a blunt instrument. The damage—spiritual, communal, geopolitical—is predictable.

Re-centering ethics and character

A tradition that forgets iḥsān (excellence of character) forgets the point of dīn. Legal categories matter, but law without virtue produces harshness. The Qur’an and  Sunna , when approached historically , holistically and contextually, are  not meant to be a repository of decontextualised rulings; it is a pedagogy of character—mercy to the vulnerable, integrity in speech, restraint in power, patience in adversity, and fairness in judgment. Communities that re-center virtue inoculate themselves against ideologies that weaponize piety.

Policy and pedagogy: practical steps

1. Teach the typology. Mosques, schools, and university courses should equip Muslims (and non-Muslims) with an accessible map of contemporary Islamic orientations and inter Islamic diversity. Knowing that sincere Muslims disagree—and why—reduces susceptibility to absolutist recruitment.
2. Normalise methodological debate. Public forums should host scholars from across the ethical-contextual spectrum alongside neo-classical jurists and Sufi voices. Let communities see how disagreements are reasoned, bounded, and accountable.
3. Anchor in contemporary  maqāṣid. Community guidelines and curricula should foreground the contemporary articulations of  higher purposes of the law in dialogue with modern rights frameworks. When outcomes demonstrably harm these purposes, interpretations must be revisited.
4. Cultivate iḥsān. Invest in character education: service learning, restorative justice practices, and spiritual disciplines. People formed in virtue are less attracted to ideologies of rage.
5. Build literacy in context. Teach historical consciousness—how coloniality, nation-states, and modern media shape religious authority today. This prevents anachronistic readings and immunizes against simplistic “golden age” narratives co-opted by extremists.
6. Platform credible scholarship. Elevate voices trained in uṣūl, hadith, ethics, and social analysis, not charisma alone. Charismatic certainty without method is ideologically combustible.

What we risk if we refuse complexity

The cost of denying interpretive plurality is not mere intellectual poverty; it is moral hazard. When we let any orientation—especially violent ones—monopolize “Qur’an and Sunna,” we permit the eclipse of Islam’s ethical heart under the shadow of identity politics. We sideline centuries of juristic prudence, spiritual wisdom, and deliberative traditions that protect life and dignity. And we render communities vulnerable to movements that promise clarity at the price of compassion.

Complexity is not our enemy; it is our safeguard. The Qur’an itself invites reflection, argument, and learning—afalā taʿqilūn, afalā tatafakkarūn. The holistically and contextuality sensitive understanding of the concept of  Sunna models a pedagogy that integrates law with mercy and wisdom. Our task is not to erase differences but to discipline them—to ensure that our methods remain answerable to ethics and that our politics remain constrained by the sanctity of life.

A faithful horizon

The truth, then, is straightforward and sobering: Qur’an and Sunna have always been read through lenses—legal, ethical, spiritual, political—that yield different, sometimes conflicting, visions of Islamic life. Owning this reality does not dilute faith; it deepens it. It moves us from slogans to substance, from performative piety to principled deliberation. And it equips us to unmask jihadist salafism’s most potent illusion: that their method is God’s voice rather than a human choice.

If we want a future where Islamic discourse heals rather than harms, we must reclaim interpretive responsibility—through typologies that clarify, ethics that constrain, and communities that cultivate character. The Qur’an’s guidance is not a cudgel; it is a horizon. Our humility, not our hubris, will help us walk toward it.

Adis Duderija is an Associate Professor in Islamic Studies at Griffith University and is the author of  many books on the Islamic intellectual history ( including on Islamic extremism and fundamentalism) and Islam and Muslims in the West .His forthcoming book is titled Islam and Constructive Interreligious Engagement ( Bloomsbury 2026).