Guidance regarding the HSBC Palantir revelation... youtube.com/shorts/0o0pjb7wk…

Sights and sounds from the Scholars and Masaajid Dinner with Mufti Muhammed Taqi Usmani courtesy of National Waqf. Please do visit our project: nationalwaqf.org/

I would say that it's compulsory for you all to watch this video with your children before they start the new week... youtu.be/x5s3Qu3PVhY?si=i1Sc… May Allah forgive me and you 😢

#CapturedThoughts | When Responsibility Becomes a Title There is a warning from the Messenger of Allah ﷺ that deserves the attention of anyone entrusted with the well-being of others. 📌Maʿqil ibn Yasār رضي الله عنه narrated that the Prophet ﷺ said: «مَا مِنْ عَبْدٍ يَسْتَرْعِيهِ اللَّهُ رَعِيَّةً، يَمُوتُ يَوْمَ يَمُوتُ وَهُوَ غَاشٌّ لِرَعِيَّتِهِ، إِلَّا حَرَّمَ اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ الْجَنَّةَ» “There is no servant whom Allah entrusts with the care of others, who dies while betraying that trust, except that Allah forbids Paradise for him.” (Sahih al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim) Although this narration is frequently quoted in discussions about political leadership, its underlying principle should cause us to reflect upon responsibilities much closer to home. A husband may spend considerable time thinking about his rights within marriage, just as parents may emphasise the obedience and respect owed to them by their children. These rights are established in Islam, but they exist alongside responsibilities that are no less serious. The Prophet ﷺ said: «كُلُّكُمْ رَاعٍ وَكُلُّكُمْ مَسْئُولٌ عَنْ رَعِيَّتِهِ» “Every one of you is a shepherd, and every one of you will be questioned concerning those under your care.” He went on to identify the man as responsible for his household and the woman as responsible for her husband's home and children. What interests me is the language of riʿāyah, the responsibility of tending, protecting and caring for what has been entrusted to us. A shepherd does not measure his success by how obediently the flock follows him. His responsibility is to ensure that those under his care are protected, provided for and not exposed to harm through his negligence. Consider how this changes the way we understand marriage and parenthood. A husband may fulfil the financial obligations of his household while remaining largely absent from the emotional, educational and spiritual lives of his family. Parents may provide excellent schooling, comfortable homes and opportunities they themselves never enjoyed, yet devote little attention to understanding the character, struggles and spiritual development of their children. Providing materially is an important responsibility, and its value should never be diminished. But the trust of family extends beyond what can be purchased. Allah says: ﴿يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا قُوا أَنفُسَكُمْ وَأَهْلِيكُمْ نَارًا﴾ “O you who believe, protect yourselves and your families from a Fire.” (al-Taḥrīm 66:6) The verse places the spiritual well-being of our families within the responsibilities we carry before Allah. Perhaps one of the difficulties of family life is that authority is immediately visible, while accountability is easier to overlook. We know when our instructions are ignored, when our expectations are unmet and when we feel insufficiently appreciated. It takes greater self-examination to recognise when those entrusted to us have been deprived of something they had a right to receive. The warning of Maʿqil's narration concerns betrayal of an entrusted responsibility, not the ordinary imperfections of a husband or parent sincerely striving to fulfil it. Marriage and parenthood confer an honourable position, but they also place human beings in our care whose rights Allah will ask us about.

Glory be to the Lord of the Worlds. May Allah save us when Qiyaamah arrives. Subhanallah!

😢 صلى الله عليه وسلم May Allah help us honour him... Ameen.

#CapturedThoughts | Do You Work to Live, or Live to Work? Have you noticed how easily work can move from being something we do to becoming the way we understand who we are? Ask someone what they do and they will almost always tell you how they earn their living. Rarely will someone answer that they are raising three children, caring for elderly parents, studying the Qur'an, serving their community or trying to become a better husband or wife. Somehow, occupation has become one of the principal ways through which modern life defines a person. Islam gives work considerable dignity. The Prophet ﷺ said that nobody has eaten food better than that which they earned through the work of their own hands, and he mentioned Dāwūd عليه السلام, who ate from what he earned himself. So earning is not something from which the believer should feel detached. Providing for a family, fulfilling obligations, building something beneficial and becoming financially independent can themselves become acts of worship when the intention and means are sound. But Islam never made work the purpose of life. Allah says: ﴿فَإِذَا قُضِيَتِ الصَّلَاةُ فَانتَشِرُوا فِي الْأَرْضِ وَابْتَغُوا مِن فَضْلِ اللَّهِ﴾ “When the prayer has concluded, disperse through the land and seek from the bounty of Allah.” (al-Jumuʿah 62:10) There is a worldview contained in that movement. We leave our businesses for Allah, and then return to our businesses seeking from Allah. Work has its place, but it sits within something much larger. I think this becomes particularly important as responsibilities increase. There will be periods when work demands more from us. Businesses need building, careers require effort and families need providing for. The problem is not simply that someone works long hours. It is when, over time, everything else begins receiving whatever is left after work has taken what it wants. There is a beautiful incident involving Salmān and Abū al-Dardāʾ رضي الله عنهما. Salmān noticed that Abū al-Dardāʾ's devotion to voluntary fasting and night prayer was affecting other parts of his life. He advised him: «إِنَّ لِرَبِّكَ عَلَيْكَ حَقًّا، وَلِنَفْسِكَ عَلَيْكَ حَقًّا، وَلِأَهْلِكَ عَلَيْكَ حَقًّا، فَأَعْطِ كُلَّ ذِي حَقٍّ حَقَّهُ» “Your Lord has a right over you, your self has a right over you, and your family has a right over you, so give every possessor of a right their due.” Abū al-Dardāʾ later mentioned what had happened to the Prophet ﷺ, who replied: «صَدَقَ سَلْمَانُ» “Salmān has spoken the truth.” If even voluntary worship was not meant to consume a person's life at the expense of other rights, then there is something here worth considering about work. Perhaps the better measure of a successful life is not simply how much we managed to earn or build, but whether, while doing so, we continued to give each part of our life its due. Work deserves our excellence... It was never meant to become everything....

Bismillāh — we’ve launched a new Islam21c series: 40 Questions We Never Ask . In the first episode, we put 40 questions to Shaykh Dr Sajid Umar — from his favourite duʿā and the Ṣaḥābī he’d most like to meet, to AI, burnout, parenting, the Qur’an and advice for daʿwah organisations. Some of the simplest questions produced the deepest answers. 🎥 Watch here: youtu.be/DGyIHswvpjA Let us know which answer stood out most — and who you’d like us to put the 40 questions to next.

The marriage series 📌 Part Two Are we raising a generation who are marriage material. sajidumar.com/blog/are-we-ra… If you missed part 1; access it here: sajidumar.com/blog/dont-fall…

AI doesn't make you smarter; it makes you faster

What was the most thought-catching part of the blog titled: Out-Organised? 📊 Vote below 👇

Recently, I spent three hours with two amazing young Muslims doing work that, in my view, reflects what one should reasonably hope to see emerging after generations of established Muslim life in the West. What that meeting forced me to confront is that an ecosystem, while necessary, is not sufficient. The question I am now more interested in is therefore more precise: 📌 How does a community ensure that sincere, capable and well-resourced actors pursuing a shared objective generate cumulative rather than cancelling effects? sajidumar.com/blog/out-organ…

#CapturedThoughts | Before psychology Diagnosed Our Parents There is something about the way we have learnt to speak about our parents that has been troubling me. We have become much better at identifying what they did not give us... We have a vocabulary for the conversations they did not know how to have, the affection they struggled to express, the mistakes they made and, increasingly, the “trauma” we believe they left behind. Some of that language has undoubtedly helped people understand genuine harm, and Islam does not ask us to deny abuse, injustice or the consequences of either. But I wonder whether, somewhere along the way, we have learnt to analyse our parents without learning equally well how to understand them. Many of our fathers were not particularly articulate with their emotions. They may never have told us everything we wanted to hear. But many of them woke each morning carrying responsibilities they rarely spoke about. They worked, endured, worried quietly and returned the next day to do it again... Alhamdulillah. Many never accumulated wealth, yet somehow worked hard to ensure that we did not experience ourselves as poor... And our mothers, Allah bless them, often carried an entirely different load. They stretched limited resources, raised children, maintained homes, supported their husbands and families, and continued because there was work that needed to be done... There was often no language of “processing”, no scheduled time for self-care and sometimes they received very little acknowledgement, if any. Yet they carried on... Alhamdulillah. They were not perfect people. But Neither are we... What they often possessed, however, was faith, resilience, sacrifice, a remarkable work ethic and a certainty that their children should have opportunities they themselves never had. Perhaps this is one reason the Qur'an teaches us to look backwards before it teaches us how to respond to our parents in old age: ﴿وَقُل رَّبِّ ارْحَمْهُمَا كَمَا رَبَّيَانِي صَغِيرًا﴾ “And say: My Lord, have mercy upon them, as they raised me when I was small.” (al-Isrā' 17:24) The verse directs our attention to what preceded our independence: years of tarbiyah, care and responsibility that we were too young to remember properly, let alone appreciate. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ was once asked who was most deserving of a person's good companionship. He replied, “Your mother.” When asked who came next, he again said, “Your mother,” and then once more, “Your mother,” before saying, “Your father.” Our tradition does not teach us that parents are beyond criticism. It teaches us not to allow their shortcomings to erase their station. Modern psychology itself contains voices warning against turning every difficult experience into pathology... There is a difference between understanding our past so that we can become healthier people and constructing an identity in which every imperfection in our adulthood requires an explanation from our childhood. Perhaps some of us do see further than our parents did! But, we had access to education they did not have, language they did not possess, opportunities they could not imagine and knowledge about parenting, relationships and emotional wellbeing that was simply unavailable to them! And if we feel we can see further them, we should have the humility to ask what elevated us to that vantage point. For many of us, it was their shoulders. Yes, we can see what's on the other side of the wall only because we're standing on their shoulders... Their sacrifices paid for some of the opportunities through which we later learnt to critique them. We should certainly learn from their mistakes. We should give our children what we genuinely believe was missing from our own upbringing. And where there has been real harm, it should be acknowledged and addressed properly. But healing should make us more just, not less grateful. Our parents may not have known the words we now know, but perhaps we should also remember the things they knew how to do without words.

🔥 Who “scholars the scholar”? Who holds scholars accountable? What does it REALLY take to become an Islamic scholar today? This discussion gets into some big and sometimes uncomfortable questions: 📚 Are modern seminaries producing scholars… or just graduates? 🧠 Can you become a real scholar without serious research? 👳‍♂️ Who actually decides when someone is qualified to be called a scholar? 🏫 Do we need better institutions? or stronger “knowledge ecosystems”? 🎓 Why are so many students graduating with weak foundations? 💡 The one thing teachers need to do more to produce exceptional students 🔍 Why analysis and critical research are disappearing from Islamic studies ❓ What should a REAL scholar actually be capable of doing? 👀 Who “scholars the scholar”? Who holds scholars accountable? ⚖️ Should Islamic scholarship have formal recognition, regulation and accountability? 🌍 Eastern vs Western Islamic academia: which system actually produces better scholars? 🚨 The hidden problems with studying Islam in Western universities 🚪 Who actually gets access to Islamic Studies in Western academia? 💰 The eye-watering cost of becoming an academic in the West 🤐 The questions scholars will answer privately...but won’t touch publicly 🔮 What will Islamic scholarship in the West look like in the future? And plenty more, including personal experiences from traditional Islamic study, the FOL Symposium, student training, academic recognition and the future of serious scholarship. 🎥 Worth watching if you care about Islamic education, scholarship, academia or the next generation of students. youtu.be/8IPUshqiHNg?si=o4AF…

#CapturedThoughts | How did Corporations become better at belonging than US? There is something I have noticed in conversations between people who work for competing companies that I find genuinely fascinating. Two employees can find themselves debating the merits of their respective employers with the enthusiasm of founders. “We are better at this.” “At least we don't do what you do.” “We've overtaken you in this market.” Listen to the conversation without knowing who they are, and you could reasonably assume that both have substantial equity in the businesses they are defending. In reality, neither owns the company. Their employment relationship is usually much simpler. They provide their skills, time and performance in exchange for remuneration and opportunity. When they perform well, the organisation may reward and promote them. When their contribution is no longer required, circumstances change, or someone else can fulfil the role more effectively, the organisation can move on. This is not necessarily criticism of corporations; it is simply the nature of the commercial relationship. What interests me is how effectively modern organisations have managed to create a sense of belonging strong enough that an employee begins speaking about someone else's corporation as “we”. There is actually something for Muslim communities to learn from this. Human beings clearly need belonging. We want to be part of something larger than ourselves, to contribute towards a shared purpose and to feel that its successes are somehow our successes. Good organisations understand this and deliberately cultivate culture, language, symbols, values and shared objectives around that need. Yet Allah gave the believer an identity and belonging far deeper than anything employment can provide: ﴿إِنَّمَا الْمُؤْمِنُونَ إِخْوَةٌ﴾ “The believers are but brothers.” (al-Ḥujurāt 49:10) And the Messenger of Allah ﷺ described the believers in their mutual love, mercy and compassion as being like a single body: when one part suffers, the rest responds with sleeplessness and fever. That is not corporate language borrowed to manufacture belonging. It describes an actual bond created by īmān. Perhaps the issue, then, is not that people identify strongly with the organisations for which they work. There can be something healthy about loyalty, professionalism and taking ownership of one's responsibilities. The question is whether our strongest sense of “we” has gradually become attached to institutions that employ us rather than the faith that defines us. There is something worth learning here for those of us involved in building Muslim institutions as well. If corporations can make people feel deeply connected through a shared mission, culture and meaningful participation, then our masājid, schools and community organisations should be asking why Muslims sometimes interact with Islam primarily as consumers of services rather than members of a community to which they genuinely belong and for which they feel responsible. A job can give us a role, an income and worthwhile work, and we should fulfil that trust with excellence. But it should never need to carry the weight of telling us who we fundamentally are. Allah has already given us an answer to that question.

Gloves On or Gloves Off? How the Paradigm Changes the Strategy Islamic strategy cannot be reduced to always choosing confrontation or always choosing compromise. The Sīrah of the Prophet ﷺ presents something far more sophisticated. Place Khandaq beside Ḥudaybiyyah and the danger of simplistic appeals to the Sīrah quickly becomes apparent. At Khandaq, the Prophet ﷺ authorised measures designed to fracture an enemy coalition; at Ḥudaybiyyah, he accepted terms that some of his closest Companions initially found deeply difficult. Both decisions emerged from the same Prophetic guidance, yet the strategies could hardly appear more different. So which one represents the Prophetic strategy? sajidumar.com/blog/gloves-on…