Prof Masood Akhtar Hazarvi
The most astonishing and profound irony of the modern age is that while human beings have achieved extraordinary victories in science and technology, they appear more restless and anxious than ever when faced with the most fundamental questions about their own existence. Humanity has measured the vastness of the universe and torn apart the veil of the atom. Artificial intelligence has created machines that do not merely follow commands but can understand, analyze, and even make decisions. Yet despite all this, human beings still do not know what the true purpose of life is, where noble ethics and higher values originate from, and how spiritual peace and inner contentment can be attained. In reality, ignoring these questions amid the noise of material progress is the greatest intellectual and ideological failure of our time.
This is why global surveys confirm that distance from religion and atheistic tendencies are increasing rapidly. According to recent Gallup International surveys, the proportion of people openly identifying as atheists worldwide has reached a significant level. This trend is especially pronounced in Western and industrial societies where, despite material abundance, the younger generation is facing problems such as mental stress, anxiety, and suicide. Ironically, long-term research conducted by institutions such as Harvard and Duke Universities indicates that individuals who believe in God generally enjoy better mental balance, experience life as more meaningful, and remain far more protected from severe psychological crises. This situation clearly points to the spiritual vacuum that materialism and atheism have created within the modern human soul.
From an Islamic perspective, the relationship between reason and divine revelation has never been one of conflict; rather, it has always been one of harmony and mutual completion. The very style of the Qur’an is based on reflection, contemplation, and observation. Time and again, human beings are invited to ponder over the creation of the heavens and the earth, the rise and fall of history, and the depths of their own inner selves. Questions such as “Do you not use your reason?” appear repeatedly in the Qur’an. However, this invitation is not toward a reason that considers itself absolute and all-knowing, but toward a sound intellect that recognizes its own limits. In Islam, the greatness of reason reaches its peak when it humbly accepts that there are certain questions whose ultimate answers lie beyond its limited domain. It is precisely at this point that revelation does not reject reason but elevates it, granting meaning and direction to its questions. As Allama Iqbal beautifully expressed:
It is good that reason stands guard beside the heart, But sometimes it should also be left on its own.
Islamic history is filled with shining examples of this living dialogue. In the early centuries, the Mu‘tazilites emphasized the supremacy of reason, while the Ash‘arites highlighted the primacy of revelation, yet both schools agreed that there is no real contradiction between sound reason and divine revelation. Al-Farabi and Ibn Sina sought to integrate Greek philosophy into the framework of Islamic thought; Imam al-Ghazali defined the limits of philosophy and declared reason to be a servant of revelation; and Ibn Rushd strongly defended the harmony between reason and revelation. This intellectual struggle formed the soul of Islam’s Golden Age, resulting in revolutionary advances in mathematics, astronomy, medicine, and physics—advances upon which modern science itself was built. Ibn al-Haytham’s optical research, Al-Khwarizmi’s algebra, and Ibn Sina’s medical works testify to the fact that Islam never regarded knowledge as a threat but rather as a means to understand the signs of the Creator.
In the Indian subcontinent, the great thinker Allama Muhammad Iqbal carried this tradition forward by giving it a new intellectual language for the modern era. In his view, reason is a great power in its own right, but without the guidance of revelation, it becomes entangled in its own complexities. In Iqbal’s poetry, both the flight of reason and its limitations are clearly visible. As he says:
The one who searched the pathways of the stars Could not journey within the world of his own thoughts. So entangled was he in the twists of his own wisdom That he could never decide what truly was gain or loss.
At its core, the fundamental flaw of modern atheism lies in treating reason as absolute and self-sufficient. Within this worldview, the universe becomes a purposeless accident, human beings mere biological coincidences, and morality a temporary construct shaped by social interests. As a result, concepts such as sacrifice, selflessness, and justice lose their objective foundation. The strongest argument of atheism is often presented as the “problem of evil”: if God is all-powerful and merciful, why is there suffering in the world? Yet this very question is itself proof of the moral consciousness within human beings. For if there were no objective standard of good and evil, suffering could not even be recognized as a “problem.” Islam does not regard suffering as meaningless; rather, it sees it as a test, a means of spiritual growth, and a process of character formation. Life is not merely about physical comfort but about moral struggle through which a human being comes to recognize their true self.
The idea of an inherent conflict between science and religion is itself a historical and intellectual misunderstanding. Islam has never considered science an enemy. The real issue is not science, but scientism—the belief that the scientific method alone is the ultimate measure of reality. Science can explain the “how” of phenomena, but the “why” lies beyond its scope. In this context, modern humans, despite countless digital connections, suffer from deep loneliness. There is an abundance of information, but a shortage of wisdom; many comforts, but little contentment. Faith fills this void because it grants life meaning, protects reason from arrogance, introduces knowledge to purpose, and links intellectual and practical freedom with responsibility. Belief in God, therefore, is not the enemy of reason but its closest companion.
Against this backdrop of intellectual struggle, the dialogue held on 20 December 2025 at the Constitution Club in New Delhi acquired exceptional significance. A serious and dignified discussion on the “existence of God” took place between Javed Akhtar, a prominent representative of atheism, and the young Muslim scholar Mufti Shamail Ahmed Nadvi. This dialogue was, in essence, a continuation of centuries-old Islamic intellectual tradition, where arguments such as contingency, the limits of science, human free will, and moral responsibility were presented with grace and rational rigor. Atheism is not a new challenge, nor is Islam a weak tradition. In every era, atheists bring forth their questions, and in every era, those questions have been answered in accordance with the intellectual demands of the time. When dialogue remains alive, reasoning remains strong, and the tone remains respectful, Islamic thought not only defends its own existence but also provides guidance to the age. This harmony between reason and revelation is the greatest hope of our time—a hope that grants inner peace to individuals, moral balance to society, and survival to civilization itself.
