No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions
Edited by Mustafa Akyol
Cato Institute
ISBN: 978-1964524948
184pp.

There are certain subjects that many Muslims cannot discuss casually — or frankly — anywhere in the world among themselves. These include apostasy laws and their implementation, blasphemy prosecutions or anything related to women’s empowerment with a focus on their autonomy.

Bring these topics up in drawing rooms in Lahore or Los Angeles, and you are likely to encounter a kind of strategic silence. There are long pauses, careful language, deflective smiles and layers of sugar-coating. Most of us do not feel comfortable sharing our thoughts, out of fear of being judged and, in some instances, being accused of heresy.

In other instances, there is outright rejection of the very premise of questions about individual freedom and dignity, and it is termed nefarious or veiled Western modernity.

I have had many such interesting conversations with Muslims from diverse backgrounds from across the world. With a few exceptions, the standard response has become predictable: “Come on, what the Taliban in Afghanistan are doing is not Islam”, or “This is not the right way to implement God’s law”, or “This is coercion, and has no place in the real Islamic state.”

A timely collection of essays by prominent Islamic scholars argues that arguments for religious freedom and against coercion exist within Islamic intellectual tradition itself

The striking thing to note is that, in the same breath, while coercion is acknowledged as unacceptable in principle, so too is the “expression or exercise of will.” In other words, although freedom is theoretically and conditionally recognised, in practice, it is often deemed offensive to what many perceive as the core of “true Islam.”

These deflective smiles, long pauses or outright rejection of questions about freedom reveal a deeper anxiety prevailing among Muslims globally. It is a reflection of the widely held assumption that many Muslims hold true even today, that Islam and freedom are inherently two separate, incompatible entities and cannot be reconciled.

As a result, most Muslims have become quite apologetic, unnecessarily defensive and quite uncertain of their ground when the discussion turns to human dignity, freedom, choice and Islam in the same breath. As a Muslim and as a student of Islam and politics in Muslim-majority countries, I find this deeply problematic and challenging.

You cannot beat, jail or threaten someone into genuine faith. This principle extends across all religious domains, ranging from daily prayers to fasting to dressing modestly to theological belief itself.

A new book, No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions, edited by Mustafa Akyol, a senior fellow at the Washington DC-based Cato Institute, and with contributions by prominent Islamic scholars from across the Muslim world, including Abdullah Saeed, Husnul Amin, Asma Afsaruddin and Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im, directly confronts these uncomfortable silences and troubling questions.

The book’s central argument is as simple as it is powerful: the Quranic verse: “There is no compulsion in religion” (2:256) should be understood, interpreted and applied comprehensively — with no exceptions — to all people, irrespective of their religious affiliation and geography. The authors argue that this verse must be used not just to protect non-Muslims from forced conversion, as is common in most conservative interpretations. Instead, it should be used to challenge — and ultimately dismantle — all forms of religious coercion within Muslim societies.

In other words, the book brings the universality of non-coercion — the freedom to choose — to Islam in general and to this verse in particular, and this is precisely what makes it both bold and provocative for many Muslim readers.

At the heart of Islamic theology and politics lie several fundamental questions. To whom is the individual answerable to in matters of religion? To other individuals claiming religious authority? To the state acting in religion’s name? Or directly to God alone? No Compulsion in Religion directly tackles these questions and offers clear, persuasive answers grounded in Islamic tradition.

Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na’im, for example, articulates in the concluding chapter: “The Sharia can and should always be practised voluntarily in society, never enforced by the state. Whatever any state does is to enforce its own political will, and not the Sharia as such.” This is the essential point the book tries to make: that Islam recognises individuality, dignity and freedom. Without any qualification or conditions, it essentially presupposes each person’s capacity and responsibility to stand directly before God.

However, these scholars also acknowledge and attempt to counter those dominant interpretations which have historically and increasingly denied these fundamentals by inserting human intermediaries between the believer and the divine.

The other most profound contribution of the book is that coercion is religiously invalid, not just undesirable. This contention is based upon the Islamic principle of niyyah, which means pure and sincere intention. Islam primarily requires genuine intention, but coercion automatically nullifies religious observance. The state enforcement of such values is, therefore, theologically counterproductive.  As An-Na’im puts it, “any observance of the Sharia must be completely voluntary to meet the requirement of ‘intent to comply (niyyah in Arabic)’, which is essential for any action or omission to be religiously valid from an Islamic point of view. Conversely, any coercion or compulsion renders conformity null and void from a religious point of view.”

You cannot beat, jail or threaten someone into genuine faith. This principle extends across all religious domains, ranging from daily prayers to fasting to dressing modestly to theological belief itself.        

The case of Iran, as discussed in the book, should be eye-opening. The Islamic Republic has enforced religiosity for almost four decades. What did it achieve? The opposite. Iranian society has experienced a dramatic religious decline rather than the anticipated revival. British journalist Nicolas Pelham noted in 2019 that “despite Iran’s pious reputation, Tehran may well be the least religious capital in the Middle East... Unlike most Muslim countries, the call to prayer is almost inaudible.”

Similarly, a 2020 survey also revealed that only approximately 40 percent of Iranians identified as Muslim during confidential polling, compared to over 90 percent according to official statistics. The lesson is unmistakable: coercion produces outward conformity but not inner faith and, over time, generates resentment and, ultimately, religious abandonment. One can also argue that it can lead to rebellion under certain conditions, as seen in women’s struggle for independence and personal autonomy in Iran in 2026.

My conversations on these subjects in Pakistan and the United States suggest that many Muslims, particularly those in comfortable positions within Western societies or in positions of power in Muslim-majority countries, dismiss freedom-centred arguments as “Western-inspired interpretations of Islam.” These arguments portray Islam and its history as if individual rights and religious liberty were foreign impositions, incompatible with authentic Islamic civilisations.

One contribution of this book is that, by drawing on Quranic exegesis, hadith [sayings of Prophet Muhammad PBUH] analysis, classical scholars and historical precedents, it demolishes that excuse. On the contrary, it demonstrates that arguments for religious freedom exist within Islamic intellectual tradition itself, though they have often been marginalised or suppressed in favour of authoritarian interpretations that served the interests of rulers and clerical establishments.

Akyol, in the first chapter, suggests that discussions of rights and freedoms existed in the 17th century Ottoman Empire. When the militant Kadzadeli Movement sought to violently enforce their interpretation of Islam — banning coffee, tobacco and Sufi practices — they were opposed by scholars like Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi, making explicitly Quranic arguments for non-coercion.

For instance, Al-Nabulsi wrote in 1682: “As God Almighty said: ‘And say, “Truth is from your Lord. Whoever wants, let him believe and whoever wants, let him disbelieve”’ [18:29]. The meaning of this verse is not to force people to obey the command and avoid the prohibition... And God Almighty said: ‘No compulsion in religion’ [2:256].” This happened three centuries before modern Western human rights discourse, demonstrating that freedom is not a foreign import but is embedded in Islamic tradition itself.

The book’s ultimate argument can be stated simply: it is impossible for a faith system to sustain itself based on fear alone. Genuine religion requires conscience, conviction and voluntary commitment. State coercion can produce outward conformity, but not inner faith. For those who believe that Islam’s future depends on recovering its emphasis on human dignity, moral agency and direct accountability to God rather than to human intermediaries, this book offers both intellectual resources and moral encouragement.

The conversations we have been avoiding must finally happen. No Compulsion in Religion — No Exceptions provides the scholarly foundation to begin them.

The reviewer is a PhD Candidate in Political Science at Boston University, USA

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, March 15th, 2026