Sometime in the late nineteenth or early twentieth century, the venerated Moroccan muftī (jurisconsult) al-Mahdī b. Muḥammad al-Wazzānī (1849–1923) was sought for his legal opinion ( fatwā , plural fatāwā ) on the relative merits of polygamy versus monogamy.Footnote 2 The query ( istiftā’ )—included in his smaller collection of legal responsa ( fatāwā or nawāzil ) commonly known as Al-Nawāzil al-Ṣughrā (The lesser responsa)Footnote 3 —stands out in the context of Islamic ethico-legal discourse ( fiqh ), as does al-Wazzānī’s response. An inquiry into this modern fatwā sheds light on this little-studied Mālikī scholar and his even less-studied collection, Al-Nawāzil al-Ṣughrā , and helps scholars today understand how traditionalist Muslim scholars were countering the modernist reformist arguments of their day, particularly on matters of gender and sexuality.
The question al-Wazzānī set himself to address was this: “Is polygamy ( ta‘addud al-zawjāt ) more virtuous ( afḍal ), or is limiting oneself to one [wife]? And is abundance of marriage ( kathrat al-nikāḥ ) morally ( shar‘an ) and socially ( ‘ādatan ) praiseworthy, due to its indication of masculine excellence ( kamāl al-rujūla ), or is it not?”Footnote 4
Immediately, the query strikes the reader for its modern tone. In medieval fiqh discourse, polygamy is taken for granted as a morally acceptable option for men who have the means to practice it, and is discussed without comment as to its moral value as compared with monogamy. The query suggests a socio-historical context in which polygamy’s moral appropriateness was perhaps being questioned for the first time, reflecting cultural and religious transformations that were occurring in Muslim societies in the colonial period. A close reading of al-Wazzānī’s response shows that it evidences a traditionalist scholarly culture defending itself against Islamic modernism generally, and Islamic feminism more specifically.
By the turn of the twentieth century, Islamic modernism was well under way in the Middle East. The traditional institution of the scholarly class ( ‘ulamā ) was under severe criticism by those in Muslim societies who were pressing for change and who argued that the ossified thinking of the religious elite was hindering innovative interpretations of Islam—interpretations that would be more suitable to the new era, more in line with global (Western) moral and cultural standards, and that would vindicate Islam as a modern religion. This modernizing movement was producing its own scholars—scholars who were returning to the foundational sources of the religion, the Qur’an, the Sunna of the Prophet Muhammad, and the example of the earliest generation of Muslims (known collectively as the salaf ), to arrive at new readings of the religion. These reformist scholars, armed with those new readings, were vying for authority with the classically trained guardians of the tradition—particularly that tradition’s treasured ethico-legal discourse, fiqh . As Leila Ahmed writes, “Whether trained in the West or in the Western-type institutions established in Egypt, these new ‘modern’ men with their new knowledges displaced the traditionally and religiously trained ‘ulama as administrators and servants of the state, educators, and keepers of the valued knowledges of society. Traditional knowledge itself became devalued as antiquated, mired in the old ‘backward’ ways.”Footnote 5
At the top of the modernist agenda was the reformation of laws and practices pertaining to women and gender relations. Male reformers wrote on women’s issues as part of their larger critique of and program for Muslim and Middle East and North African societies. George Gawrych explains that “male reformers ‘found the plight of women a powerful vehicle for the expression of their own restiveness with social conventions.’”Footnote 6 Reformers—most prominently feminists—sought to augment women’s rights in private and public life, to widen the spheres of women’s activities and influence, and to lessen inequalities in gender relations. While some feminist argumentation in Muslim societies was being made on secular grounds or by non-Muslims, much feminist advocacy was also being made on religious grounds in an Islamic mode of feminism.Footnote 7
One of the most prominent early feminist positions was that polygamy is unjust or harmful to women and should be reduced or eliminated from both social practice and the law. From an Islamic religious point of view, however, the permissibility of polygamy in the sharī‘a posed an obstacle. How could one criticize on moral grounds an institution that was sanctioned in the Qur’an and practiced by the Prophet himself, no less? A prominent Islamic feminist line of response that gained footing in this era was that polygamy, while permitted by God and the Prophet, is not encouraged; in fact, they argued, a proper reading of the scriptures would lead to the conclusion that polygamy is highly discouraged or even disallowed. Thus, Islamic feminists and modernist reformers set up a moral hierarchy between different forms of legally permissible marriage—that is, between monogamy and polygamy—wherein polygamy was disfavored and monogamy favored.
Reformers who advocated for polygamy’s reduction or elimination on religious grounds included figures such as al-Ṭāhir al-Ḥaddād, Rifā‘a al-Ṭaḥṭāwī, Muḥammad ‘Abduh, and Qāsim Amīn. One of the earliest figures to criticize polygamy was Rifā‘a Badawī Rāfi‘ al-Ṭaḥṭāwī (1801–1873), whom Albert Hourani considers among the first generation of Arab liberals. Beginning his madrasa studies at at al-Azhar in Cairo, al-Ṭaḥṭāwī underwent a transformation during his five-year period of study in France, from 1826 to 1831.Footnote 8 Deeply influenced by the ideas of French Enlightenment thinkers, al-Ṭaḥṭāwī came away convinced that polygamy should not be categorically permitted, but should be permitted only when men are able to maintain justice between their wives.Footnote 9 Although he did not condemn polygamy in toto, he recommended that men take only one wife, on the ideal of companionate marriage and mutual love between spouses.Footnote 10
A second generation of reformers who advocated for marriage reform on Islamic lines included figures such as Şemseddin Sami (1850–1904), Muḥammad ‘Abduh (1849–1905), and Qāsim Amīn (1863–1908). Şemseddin Sami was an Ottoman-era Albanian Muslim intellectual who advocated for women’s human, intellectual, and moral equality with men from within an Islamic framework. In his 1880 book Kadlınar (Women), he argues that on the matter of polygamy, the Qur’an was critical toward it even if permitting it.Footnote 11 A companion of the women’s rights activists Namık Kemal (1840–1888) and Ahmet Mithat (1844–1912), Sami maintained the intellectual equality of women with men and advocated for women’s advancement in education and in work opportunities on the basis of that intellectual equality.Footnote 12 In line with his egalitarian thinking and his high esteem for women’s roles as mothers, in particular, he insisted on the value of companionship ( refakat ) in marriage,Footnote 13 clearly weighing in on the modern ideal of companionate marriage. These ideals of partnership and love in marriage, intellectual and moral equality of men and women, and the merits of motherhood, brought him to categorically reject polygamy as an Islamic norm. He called for its limitation to only the most necessary circumstances—debilitating illness or barrenness—and only permissible with the first wife’s consent.Footnote 14
Meanwhile, in the Arab world, the tremendously influential Islamic modernist and Azharī mufti (jurisconsult) Muḥammad ‘Abduh was similarly subverting polygamy’s moral defensibility. A devoted follower of al-AfghānīFootnote 15 and teacher of Qāsim Amīn, the Egyptian ‘Abduh was the chief architect of modernist Salafism, and much Islamic feminism is built on the theological, hermeneutical and ethical groundwork he laid. In describing the inception of Islamic feminism in the Middle East, Margot Badran recounts ‘Abduh’s advocacy of returning to the scriptural sources and his forceful criticisms of gender injustice, particularly the practice of polygamy: “Shaikh Muhammad ‘Abduh … proposed that believers could go straight to the sources of religion, principally the Qur’an and the Hadith, for guidance in the conduct of everyday life. Through ijtihad (independent inquiry into the sources of religion), ‘Abduh demonstrated that one could be both Muslim and modern, and that many traditional practices violated the principles of Islam. In dealing with gender issues, ‘Abduh confronted the problem of patriarchal excesses committed in the name of Islam. He especially decried male abuse of the institutions of divorce and polygamy.”Footnote 16
‘Abduh held polygamy to be a backward practice that degraded women specifically and society generally.Footnote 17 Along with al-Ṭaḥṭāwī, he called for its reform, declaring that the institution of multiple marriage was not a true part of Islam but was a misinterpretation and misapplication of the religion.Footnote 18 According to ‘Abduh, writes Leila Ahmed, “The regeneration of the Islamic nation as a whole lay in a return to the essentials of Islam. Such a return would make evident that ‘such matters as divorce, polygamy, and slavery do not belong to the essentials of Islam.’ Polygamy, for example, was only permitted, ‘Abdu argued, because of the conditions of the day, although monogamy was clearly the Quranic ideal.”Footnote 19 ‘Abduh thus bolstered the novel modernist argument that polygamy was not part of the true divine intent—that polygamy, despite its acceptability in classical jurisprudence, was not a morally equivalent alternative to monogamy but was in fact morally inferior to it.
The reformist line of thinking being established by al-Ṭaḥṭāwī and ‘Abduh was famously augumented by the latter’s Egyptian disciple, Qāsim Amīn, whose twin works, Taḥrīr al-Mar’a (The liberation of women) and Al-Mar’a al-Jadīda (The new woman), caused massive controversy when published in 1899 and 1901 respectively. In Taḥrīr al-Mar’a , Amīn contended, on religious and moral grounds, that polygamy is tremendously harmful to women as well as to the children and husbands of those women, and is also deleterious to Egyptian society and the nation as a whole.Footnote 20 Constructing his ideas within an Islamic framework, he did not reject polygamy outright,Footnote 21 but insisted that it is morally subordinate to the ideal form of marriage, which is monogamy.Footnote 22
Amīn found polygamy to be morally repugnant and the mark of a profligate man, writing, “A cultured man will not allow tyrannical treatment of women, and whenever his sexual desires are aroused he will be deterred by his sense of honor, which does not allow him to humiliate women.”Footnote 23 Polygamy was at its root a pandering to one’s base desires: “With the exception of [instances of chronic disease or barrenness on the part of the wife], I find polygamy nothing short of a legal trick to satisfy an animal-like desire. It symbolizes corrupt morals, insensitivity, and a gluttonous search for pleasure.”Footnote 24 A man’s moral laxity as reflected in his practice of polygamy would undoubtedly seep into other spheres of his moral life. “Without a doubt,” he asserted, “the best thing that a man can do is to have only one wife. Monogamy will help him conform to prescribed laws … to provide his wife and children with their rights, ensuring their adequate support, a good upbringing, and love.”Footnote 25
Importantly, Amīn argued for the downgrading of polygamy vis-à-vis monogamy on religious and scriptural grounds, calling upon legal theoretical principles such as that of social welfare ( maṣlaḥa ) and the right of the ruler to establish beneficial policy ( siyāsa shar‘iyya ).Footnote 26 Indeed, in Amīn’s writings, one finds a Qur’anically grounded argument against polygamy that would become a hallmark of the newly emerging Islamic feminist discourse: that although the Qur’an appears in one passage to permit a man’s taking multiple wives as long as he is just between wives, its declaration in another passage that no man is capable of justice between wives amounts to a stern warning against its practice. He writes:
Whoever researches the Quranic texts that mention polygamy will discover that the Quran both legitimizes polygamy and warns against it. The Almighty has said:
“marry of the women, who seem good to you, two or three or four; and if ye fear that ye cannot do justice (to so many) then one (only) or (the captives) that your rights possess. Thus it is more likely that ye will not do injustice. [Qur’an 4:3]
[And]
“Ye will not be able to deal equally between (your) wives, however much ye wish (to do so).” [Qur’an 4:129]
These verses indicate that God considered the fear of injustice to be the primary problem in a polygamous relationship. He also declared that justice in a polygamous relationship is impossible. Who then can claim that he is just, when justice has been declared an impossibility? … Anyone who wishes to pursue an unattainable goal should indeed be afraid … In considering these two verses one may conclude that polygamy is prohibited…. God has made it dependent on what each person finds within himself…. The consequences of his decision are a matter between him and God…. [Yet] God firmly warns that the required personal strength is an impossibility.Footnote 27
This exegetical strategy of reading Qur’an 4:3 and 4:129 together, and the latter as a limitation on the former became central to subsequent Islamic feminist arguments against polygamy.
Around the time that Sami, ‘Abduh, and Amīn were writing, a third generation of Islamic feminists was born. For the first time, women began to figure prominently in reformist discourses, and mounting religiously grounded arguments against polygamy was at the center of their efforts. This generation included figures such as Malak Ḥifnī Nāṣif (1886–1918).Footnote 28 Nāṣif, known by her pen name Bāḥithat al-Bādiya (a seeker in the desert), became active in the early twentieth century, about a decade after the publication of Amīn’s tracts. Badran writes that Nāṣif “was the first woman to make public feminist demands in Egypt” and that she “argued for controls on men’s tyrannical use of divorce and polygamy.”Footnote 29 Meanwhile, the modernist writer and labor activist Ṭāhir Ḥaddād (1899–1935) was emerging as an outspoken champion of women’s rights in Tunisia. In 1930, Ḥaddād published Imra’atunā fi’l-Sharī‘a wa’l-Mujtama‘ (Muslim Women in Law and Society), in which he described the wretched condition of women in Tunisian society and called for reforms to several areas of women’s lives and in gender relations.
Ḥaddād vociferously criticized polygamy and argued that the Qur’an pointed to the abolition of this pre-Islamic practice over time. In the introduction to their translation of his work, Husni and Newman summarize Ḥaddād’s approach and explain how his argument threaded the needle that was required of all Islamic feminists, which was to argue against polygamy—and thus press for its its moral devaluation as well as its legal termination—while continuing to uphold the Qur’an and Sunna as religiously and morally authoritative: “[Ḥaddād] argues that [polygamy] is a heinous legacy of the pre-Islamic era and that if it had been subject to the gradualistic approach, it would have been challenged by Islam, and eventually abolished.”Footnote 30 Thus, Ḥaddād invoked another hermeutical strategy that became prominent in Islamic feminism: that the Qur’an established its ethics in a gradual, progressive fashion and often points beyond its own historical context, and that therefore, a correct interpretation of the Qur’an may require going beyond its own pages.Footnote 31 Far from rejecting religion, Julian Weideman observes that “Haddad conceived of himself as defending religion, not diluting or mitigating it, and certainly not replacing it with ’secular’ insights. … Frequently citing the Qur’an, the hadith, and the work of religious scholars, Haddad not only sought to prove the Islamic basis for equality, but also to protect Islam from what he regarded as false interpretations on the part of his colleagues.”Footnote 32
Ḥaddād’s application of traditional interpretive and logical strategies to the Qur’an and Sunna in order to yield an anti-polygamy conclusion is worth examing, as it is both extensive and also provides context for al-Wazzānī’s fatwā. As for the Qur’an, Ḥaddād’s first strategy—along the same lines as that of Amīn, above—is to argue that the Qur’an establishes equity or balance ( ‘adāla ) as the standard of moral conduct; he warns that polygamy leads to violation of this standard, presenting instead monogamy as the ideal. Indeed, the Qur’an’s declaration that a man can never be fair between wives in Qur’an 4:129 is, for Ḥaddād, a clear strike against polygamy’s virtue. Secondly, Ḥaddād cites Qur’an 30:21 as presenting marriage as being based on love, compassion, and tenderness, and contrasts that with the misery, cruelty, and conflict that prevails in polygamous homes. Thirdly, he points out that the Qur’an and Sunna both reduce the number of wives a man may have, from an unlimited number down to four; this signifies a marital ethics that valorizes fewer wives over more, and that points to monogamy as the Islamic ideal. Finally, as for the Prophet himself having more than four wives, Ḥaddād asserts that this represents neither an example for Muslim men to imitate nor a reflection of the divine ideal. The Prophet had married all his wives prior to the Qur’anic limitation, and was proscribed from marrying any others after that revelation. Nor could he divorce any of his wives so as to reduce their number; as mothers of the believers, they would be ineligible to marry again, making divorce an injustice toward them. Therefore, in his number of wives, the Prophet was exceptional, not exemplary. Given this array of evidence, both textual and rational, Ḥaddād firmly concludes that God loves and prefers monogamy over polygamy:
In my view polygamy has no basis in Islam; rather, it is one of the evils of the pre-Islamic era which Islam has challenged through its gradualistic method. … When Islam was introduced, one of the first things it did was to limit the number of wives a man could have at any one time. … Whatever the gradual approach taken by Islam in achieving its goals and judgements, it has also proven its love of monogamy, as the text specifically refers to the impossibility of fairness to all four wives. If we return to the verse that defines marriage as an institution based on love, compassion and tenderness between two people [Qur’an 30:21], it is not difficult to see that one cannot divide these feelings and its effects among one man and several women. … The fact that the Prophet had many wives does not mean that he legislated for this practice, or wanted the Muslim community to follow this path. Indeed, he had taken these wives before the limitation had been imposed … If the Prophet (peace be upon him) had left some of his wives in accordance with the injunction, he would have exposed them to a life of destitution, and driven them into an abyss of immorality.Footnote 33
All of these arguments against polygamy gained much traction throughout late nineteenth- early twentieth-century Arab and Muslim societies, shaping multiple legal reform efforts in that period. Several Middle Eastern legislative bodies contemplated or passed regulations curtailing polygamy along with other aspects of marriage and divorce law.Footnote 34 Specifically, Syria, Iraq, and Tunisia were moving toward restricting polygamy in the early twentieth century, with Tunisia standing out for its full outlawing of the practice under President Habib Bourguiba in 1956.Footnote 35 Egypt, following the initiative of Muḥammad ‘Abduh, went so far as to have its cabinet approve draft legislation to curtail polygamy, though in the end, it was not signed into law.Footnote 36
Legislative successes aside, the moral discrediting of polygamy in favor of monogamy in Islamic modernist-feminist discourse was undeniable. The new arguments enabled Islamic modernists to uphold the sanctity of the Qur’an and the example of the Prophet by reasoning that those sources themselves indicate a moral hierarchy of monogamy over polygamy. As such, feminist critiques constituted a significant challenge to traditional Islamic conceptualizations of gender and sexuality, which had regarded polygamy—and, indeed, polygyny (with the inclusion of concubinage)—as perfectly ethical in God’s esteem. This new reformist logic—that polygamy is morally inferior to monogamy—brings me to al-Wazzānī’s fatwā , for it is the subtext of the query, and offers al-Wazzānī a chance to directly address the modernist-feminist challenge.Footnote 37
To contextualize this relatively long response (a little over five pages in the printed edition of the workFootnote 38) and to situate both the jurist and his work more precisely: Al-Wazzānī was born in 1849 in the city of Wazzān in northwest Morocco to a noble sharīfī family. He left his home at a young age to study fiqh (Islamic jurisprudence) at Qayrawiyyīn University in Fez. After his studies, he went on to teach at that same institution while also writing on fiqh topics and issuing fatāwā (legal opinions) in his role as muftī (jurisconsult) of that city.Footnote 39 His most influential works are the two fatāwā (or nawāzil ) collections: Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd (The new standard), also known as Al-Nawāzil al-Kubrā (The greater responsa) and, as noted, Al-Minaḥ al-Sāmiya , also known as Al-Nawāzil al-Ṣughrā (The lesser responsa). The Moroccan state, or Makhzan, was at this time under continual threat of European colonialism, while taking up modernization projects of its own; these instabilities and changes caused periodic unrest in various sectors of Moroccan society.Footnote 40 Al-Wazzānī was writing in the midst of both these local disruptions and broader external and internal challenges, when the basic socio-political and religious-ideological structures of life were being called into question.
The scholar who has done the most research on the little-studied al-Wazzānī in Western languages is Etty Terem.Footnote 41 In her analysis of al-Wazzānī’s larger and more well-known collection of legal opinions, Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd, Terem argues that al-Wazzānī was decidedly a traditionalist. He staunchly defended the classical discourse of the sharī‘a and its system of juristic schools ( madhhabs ) against modernist critique, and was particularly protective of his own Mālikī madhhab . He was highly engaged with the moral and legal debates of the era and was aware of—and in correspondence with—some of the most influential modernist reformers of his day, particularly Muḥammad ‘Abduh and his student Rashīd Riḍā. Indeed, al-Wazzānī disagreed sharply with ‘Abduh over the latter’s permission for Muslims who reside outside of Islamic sovereignty to eat meat slaughtered by Christians.Footnote 42 However, al-Wazzānī’s traditionalism, says Terem, was not rigid and antiquarian, but dynamic and assertive—a sort of muscular traditionalism that was willing to go to battle with others even within his own madhhab to articulate new positions within the parameters of school methods and sources.
Through this innovative traditionalism, writes Terem, al-Wazzānī was formulating a “new Maliki orthodoxy.”Footnote 43 His new Maliki orthodoxy was modernizing in tone, but neither in the liberal vein nor in the salafī (Islamist) vein; rather he found in the reasoning of the classical school the tools with which to fashion an ethico-legal system that could successfully confront the changing world. In Terem’s reading, al-Wazzānī exemplifies the way the classical tradition was creatively responding to modernity’s challenges—a response that is often overshadowed in academic scholarship by a focus on liberal modernizers and salafī reformers. Indeed, remarks Terem, the fiqh production of jurists like al-Wazzānī encourages us to reconsider the all-too-simple dichotomy between modernism and conservatism, and to redefine Islamic modernism to include traditionalist strains of reform. She insists that “the opposition between modern reform and Islamic intellectual tradition that underlies so many discussions of modern Islam assumes a simplistic understanding of the relations between tradition and modernity.”Footnote 44
Al-Wazzānī, says Terem, demonstrated his dynamic traditionalism—his “new Maliki orthodoxy”—through some of his legal opinions related to women and gender relations.Footnote 45 She analyzes two such of his legal opinions ( fatāwā ) in Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd, one on a matter of female inheritance and the other on a matter of maintenance ( nafaqa ).Footnote 46 In both of these opinions, suggests Terem, al-Wazzānī works toward gender equity and against male primacy through reinterpretation and reconfiguration of the Mālikī tradition, thereby acting as a traditionalist reformer. In the first case, al-Wazzānī argues in favor of a minor girl drawing inheritance from an endowment ( waqf ) established by her grandfather, in opposition to a prior judge who had disinherited the girl. In the second case, where the brother of a deceased man refuses to reimburse maintenance ( nafaqa ) to the deceased’s widow for the final six months of the deceased’s life, al-Wazzānī similarly counters a prior muftī ’s opinion, arguing that the brother-in-law is wrong and that the widow is entitled to the six months’ of maintenance. Terem argues that in both cases, al-Wazzānī “explicit[ly] call[s] for change in cultural attitudes and practices toward women. … Al-Wazzānī engaged the Mālikī legal tradition to make an argument for an Islamic resolution to a contemporary social problem. To put it differently, an inherently oppressive attitude toward women needed to be replaced by a new family arrangement that enabled women to address and navigate modern Morocco.”Footnote 47 According to Terem, these opinions are part of a larger pattern in al-Wazzānī’s gender-related thinking in his more extensive collection of fatāwā , Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd: “In both cases, al-Wazzānī contests interpretations that sought to enhance gender asymmetry and male dominance. Instead, he suggests a restructuring of the patriarchal social order to reflect changes in family arrangements and household composition. I argue that al-Wazzani denounced and rejected older answers that became irrelevant and legitimized others that accommodated the new historical conditions.”Footnote 48
Lest one erroneously consider al-Wazzānī a feminist, Terem is careful to make clear that while al-Wazzānī did apply an egalitarian pressure on Mālikī jurisprudence in matters of women and family through his fatāwā , and while he did take a middle or balanced position between the old and the new, he nevertheless upheld conservative patriarchal views on gender. She explains:
It is clear that a strong gendered vision that buttresses a patriarchal social and familial order underlies al-Wazzānī’s legal discourse…. The husband’s role is that of provider, and the wife is the recipient of support…. His arguments were not rooted in claims about equal relations between two individuals or the abrogation of patriarchy. In his legal discourse, he reproduces a patriarchal ideology, structures, and practices, as well as the constraints on women’s choices and women’s subordination to males in important symbolic and actual ways. Thus, it is not my intent to deny evidence of patriarchal values and norms in al-Wazzānī’s discourse. Rather, my argument is that he insisted, within the scope of his knowledge and mode of thinking, that patriarchy was limited in significant ways.Footnote 49
The complexity of al-Wazzānī’s stances vis-à-vis both modernity and Mālikī traditionalism are on display in the fatwā under examination. This fatwā also offers an opportunity to consider Terem’s claim that this modern jurist was contesting the more patriarchal aspects of the Islamic juristic tradition in favor of more gender egalitarian solutions. This is because his response to the question about the relative virtues of polygamy and monogamy—itself attention-worthy in the context of fiqh discourses—is quite surprising: Not only does al-Wazzānī reject the modernist-feminist idea that God and the Prophet preferred monogamy, but he even rejects the medieval-classical position that the two are equally permissible or of equal moral value. In a counterintuitive move—yet one that is not entirely unexpected given the modernist assault on traditional notions of marriage and gender—al-Wazzānī argues that polygamy is morally superior to monogamy. To put his position in context: In the long premodern juristic tradition, as mentioned above, rules related to marriage typically are spelled out without comment as to the relative moral value of monogamy verses polygamy. On the rare occasion that comparison is made between the two, monogamy is presented as more meritorius than polygamy. As Wael Hallaq points out, “With the notable exception of Dāwūd b. Khalaf al-Zāhirī (whose school died out), the jurists agreed that monogamy was preferable [to polygamy].”Footnote 50 Al-Wazzānī’s position, therefore, represents an unconventional stance within traditional juristic discourse. It also appears to be at odds with Terem’s suggestion that he “contest[ed] interpretations that sought to enhance gender asymmetry and male dominance” or that he advocated for “an inherently oppressive attitude toward women … to be replaced,”Footnote 51 even if within the parameters of classical Mālikī fiqh (as I discuss below).
Yet as out of place as al-Wazzānī’s response appears in the context of classical fiqh discourse, Terem’s analysis helps us makes sense of it in his historical context. For while al-Wazzānī was a reform-oriented faqīh , he was also a stalwart supporter of premodern institutions and cultural patterns, including patriarchal gender norms. Furthermore, al-Wazzānī was writing in the thick of the Muslim world’s ideological struggles with Europe—struggles in which women, gender, and family often served as proxies. In this milieu, it is no wonder that al-Wazzānī not only refused to concede to the monogamous nuclear family ideals of gender and sexuality found in the West, but that he went on the offensive, to assert that that Western model was in fact impoverished and that it is the norms established by the sharī‘a of Islam—in their most conservative rendition—that are truly aligned with the divine will as well as the principle of ‘adāla .Footnote 52
The Fatwā Footnote 53
In order to perceive the nuances of al-Wazzānī’s fatwā, one must consider both the discursive logics that were common to the classical juristic tradition and the modernist arguments against polygamy ( ta‘addud al-zawjāt ), particularly the strategies of each discourse in interpreting the Qur’an and Prophetic sunna. These two religious discourses—the classical and the modernist—form the context for the fatwā and are refracted through the text.
Al-Wazzānī begins his fatwā as all fatāwā start, which is by stating the query ( istiftā’ ). He presents his opinion, then proceeds to make his argument on three bases: (1) past juristic authorities from the Mālikī school; (2) classical Sunnī juristic sources ( uṣūl ), specifically the Qur’an, analogical reasoning ( qiyās ), and the example ( sunna ) of the Prophet; and (3) a modernistic appeal to the sharī‘a as a path of balance ( ‘adāla ):Footnote 54
[P1] I was asked: Is polygamy ( ta‘addud al-zawjāt ) more virtuous ( afḍal ), or is limiting oneself to one [wife]? And, is abundance in marriage ( kathrat al-nikāḥ ) morally ( shar‘an ) and socially ( ‘adatan ) praiseworthy, due to its indication of masculine excellence ( kamāl al-rujūla ), or is it not?
Al-Wazzānī begins his response with a prayer to God upon the Prophet Muḥammad and his family and community, and he then declares that polygamy is morally superior to monogamy, according to the Qur’an, scriptural logic ( qiyās ), and the Sunna (example) of the Prophet. He bolsters his point by asserting that the medieval Mālikī juristic and judicial authority Qāḍī ‘Iyāḍ ibn Mūsā al-Yaḥṣubī al-Sabtī (1083–1149)Footnote 55 held the same position:
[P2] I answered: Praise be to God the Lord of the Worlds, and may God bless our master Muhammad and his family, his companions, his wives, and his children all together.
[P3] Polygamy is better than one [wife] according to what the Book, scriptural logic ( qiyās ), and the Sunna have all indicated. In fact, the judge Abū’l-Faḍl ‘Iyāḍ conveys in Al-Shifā’ Footnote 56 his concurrence with this, and the textual evidence ( naṣṣ ) of this follows, by God’s assistance.
Al-Wazzānī’s first line of argument is scriptural-textual. He presents Qur’anic passages and analyzes them to show that they give preference to polygamy—and polygyny more generally—over monogamy. He closely examines the wording and logic of Qur’an 4:3, which is typically translated as follows: “If ye fear that ye shall not be able to deal equitably with the orphans, then marry what pleases you of these women, two or three or four. But if ye fear that ye shall not be able to maintain balance, then one, or what your right hands possess. That will be more suitable, to prevent you from doing injustice.”Footnote 57 His analysis of this verse proceeds in three parts. First, he observes that the Qur’an only presents a polygamous choice here, as it opens with the option to marry two women, not one; this implies that marrying one wife would not even meet the criterion of being pleasing in God’s eyes:
[P4] As for the Book, there is the saying of the Most-High in the verse: “Then marry what pleases you ( mā ṭāba lakum ) of the women, two or three or four.”Footnote 58 The Most-High’s saying, “So marry what pleases you,” means the pleasing type. Then He qualifies [that type] with “two or three or four,” that is two or three or four [women], since His saying “two” ( mathnā ) is in place of “what” or functions as an adverb ( ḥāl ) for it. Whichever of these [grammatical constructions], there is preference for polygamy over monogamy, because one [wife] is not [even] mentioned within the pleasing type ( al-naw‘ al-ṭayyib ), and so [monogamy] is not pleasing [at all]. Therefore, a preference for polygamy over one [wife] is definitively ( qaṭ‘an ) conveyed in this verse and the meaning [to be taken is]: So marry multiple women ( al-ma‘dūdāt ) who are pleasing to you, this number being two or three or four. And if you fear that you will not maintain balance ( lā ta‘dilū ) between these numbers, not even between the least [of these numbers, i.e., two]—as you fear abandoning balance in greater than [this number] or as you would fear in the right of the orphans ( al-yatāmā )—then be satisfied with one [wife] or a slavewoman ( mamlūka ).
Regarding one [wife], this to be read as: Then restrain yourselves ( iltazimū ) and choose ( ikhtārū ) one and leave aside conjoining [wives] categorically ( ra’san ). For the matter as a whole revolves around balance ( ‘adl ), and wheresoever you find balance, then that is what you must do. [The word] “one” ( wāḥida ) is read in the nominative case—i.e., then [either] one [wife] suffices ( kafat ) or one satisfies ( muqni‘ ). [As for] “or what your right hands possess”: aymān is the plural of yamīn (right hand); possession ( milk ) is specifically attributed to the right hand by [linguistic] convention, even though possession belongs to the whole person.
In the next part of his analysis, al-Wazzānī points out that this verse generally commands polygamy, and that monogamy is offered only in exceptional circumstances, when a man fears committing inequity. Barring this fear, a man should seek multiple wives:
[P5] And also His saying Most-High: “But if ye fear that ye shall not be able to maintain balance, then one.” This conveys preference for polygamy, because sufficing with one (wife) is contingent on the fear of imbalance ( ‘adam al-‘adl ). So, the implication of the verse is that if you do not fear committing imbalance, and you have made certain of ( taḥaqqaqtum ) maintaining balance, then do not suffice with one but marry whoever pleases you, two or three or four.
[P6] So, in short, whoever fears [committing] imbalance must suffice with one, and whoever does not fear that should then not suffice with [only] her but is encouraged ( nadban ) to seek more than her, due to the Most-High’s saying: “So marry.” Reflect on this.
Following this, al-Wazzānī argues that this verse equates having one wife with having concubines. To support this reading, he cites the medieval scholar Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī, who first equates marriage and concubinage and then extols concubines over free wives as less burdensome on the man:
[P7] Also, the saying of the Most-High, “Then one (wife) or what your right hands possess,” conveys the moral superiority ( afḍalīya ) of polygamy, because He has put the solitary [wife] at the level of a concubine ( ama ) while He calls the co-wife ( al-muta‘addida ) a pleasing thing ( ṭayyib ). This confirms what we say.
[P8] The imām al-Fakhr al-RaziFootnote 59 wrote: “A choice is given in this verse between marrying one [wife] and taking concubines. A choice given between two things conveys equivalence between the two things in terms of the intended wisdom/purpose ( ḥikma ) sought. It is as if the doctor were to say, “Eat apples or pomegranates.” This would convey that each stands in for the other for achievement of the objective ( gharaḍ ). In the same way, this verse indicates equivalence. And reason also indicates this [equivalence], because the purpose is tranquility and conjugality ( sukn wa izdiwāj ), and obtaining of ( taḥṣīl ) religion and of domestic benefits, and these are [equally] achievable in both ways.Footnote 60
[P9] [Continues al-Razi:] “And also, if we imagine a hypothetical, in which a woman is enslaved and then (her owner) releases her and marries her, then this strongly demonstrates the point regarding the equivalence between marriage and slavery.”Footnote 61 (fin)
[P10] And [al-Rāzī] also says this earlier [in his work]: “Ease and comfort are equivalent between a single free [wife] and concubines ( īmā’ ) without limit. By my life, [concubines] are less of a liability and lighter resource-wise then those who take dowers ( mahā’ir ). It is morally insignificant ( lā ‘alayka ) whether you given them more or less, whether you balance between them in the conjugal division ( qism )Footnote 62 or not, whether you withdraw from themFootnote 63 or not.”Footnote 64 (fin)
It is noteworthy here that al-Rāzī here does not actually support al-Wazzānī’s point. While al-Rāzī does posit the moral equivalence of marriage and concubinage—colorfully analogized to apples and pomegranates—and while he does comment on the greater convenience of concubines compared with wives, he does not actually comment on the relative moral merit of any particular number of wives. Nevertheless, al-Wazzānī at this point interprets al-Rāzī’s exegesis of Qur’an 4:3 as follows:
So it is clear with this that polygamy should be understood as better than [having a] solitary [wife] from three angles:
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(1) from His prioritization ( taṣdīr ) of the polygamist ( muta‘addid ), His consideration of polygamy ( ta‘addud ) as moral good ( ṭayyib ), and His [general] command to men to marry;
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(2) from His permitting self-limitation to one [wife] only for fear of inequity;
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(3) from His equating marrying a solitary wife with [having] a concubine or concubines.
And God knows best.
After analyzing the Qur’an on the matter of polygamy, al-Wazzānī turns his focus to analogical arguments ( qiyās ) based on the life of the Prophet. His first argument is that Muslims have been commanded to emulate the Prophet’s Sunna, and because the Prophet had nine wives, ideally, Muslim men should also have nine wives.Footnote 65 The only reason Muslim men may not have nine wives is that there are textual contraindicants that prohibit more than four wives; he goes through several of those contraindicants ( dalīls ) here:
[P11] As for analogical reasoning ( qiyās ): Polygamy is of [the Prophet’s] sunna because it is established by multiple transmission ( tawātur ) that he died with nine [women or wives] ( niswa ). Then, the Most-High has enjoined us to emulate him, for the Ever-High has said: “Emulate him so that you may be guided.” The lowest level of injunction is moral preference ( nadb ).
And [the Prophet] said (upon him be peace): “Whosoever desires other than my sunna is not of me.” The apparent meaning of this ḥadīth necessitates criticism of one who leaves off marrying this number [i.e., nine wives] when he has the ability. However, the scriptural evidence ( dalīl ) prohibits our right to exceed four [wives], and the consensus of the companions, the successors, and the scholars of the towns is definitive on that prohibition.Footnote 66
[P12] [Supporting the illegality of more than four wives, Ibn Abi Zayd al-QayrawānīFootnote 67] said in al-Mukhtaṣar : “Except if [a marriage’s] defectiveness ( fasād ) is agreed upon, in which case there is no divorce and no inheritance, as in for a fifth (wife).”Footnote 68 Also supporting this consensus [that a man may not exceed four wives] is a narrative report ( khabar ) that [the companion] Ghaylān converted to Islam while having ten women [i.e., wives], and the Messenger of God said to him: “Keep four and separate from the rest.”Footnote 69
[P13] And it is narrated that Nawfal b. Mu‘āwiya converted while having five women [i.e., wives]. So (the Prophet) upon him be peace said to him, “Keep four and separate from one.”Footnote 70 Thus [the rule of marrying up to] four wives has remained in effect on the basis of the sunna, for anyone who is able. Reflect on this.
Al-Wazzānī’s second analogical argument ( qiyās ) is of an a fortiori type: because expending upon a man’s dependents is a means for him to gain divine reward ( ajr ), the greater a man’s dependents, the greater his ajr .Footnote 71 He strengthens this analogy by showing the unique hardships of marriage in the eyes of God and the Prophet, meaning that having more wives leads to greater hardship and therefore greater reward from God:
[P14] And also [on the basis of qiyās is the argument that] among the great benefits of marriage is the increasing of divine reward ( ajr ) through expending for maintenance ( nafaqa ), and maintenance of two or more [wives] is better than maintenance of one, generally.
[P15] And in the ḥadīth [we read]: “From among the sins is that sin which is not expiated) lā yukaffiruhā ) except by worry over seeking daily bread for one’s dependents.”Footnote 72
[P16] And in the ḥadīth also: “God has obligated [Himself] to grant Paradise to whomsoever expends on three daughters.” Said al-KharashiFootnote 73 in his commentary on the Mukhtaṣar ’s report, “Marriage, linguistically, means exertion ( juhd ) and hardship ( mashaqqa )”Footnote 74: “Indeed from among the sins is one that is not expiated by prayer, fasting, or jihad, but rather [is expiated] only by seeking after one’s dependents.” This is the same as what [the Prophet] said, peace upon him.
Al-Wazzānī’s next argument—for moral exceptionalism in the case of pursuing sexual appetites, and valorization of that pursuit—is also rational though not clearly analogical. He begins by addressing the idea that desire or lust ( shahwa ), pursued in excess, leads to a hardening of the heart—that is, to sinfulness—and should therefore be curbed. He then says that such need for curbing does not apply to sexual desire, which he suggests should be indulged. He supports this reasoning with the example of the prophets, many of whom had great numbers of women. The implication is that if the prophets followed their sexual appetites and yet were of the highest spiritual and moral caliber, then so should ordinary men, without overly fearing that doing so will involve an inappropriate pursuit of carnal pleasures:
[P17] Further, marriage is from among the six desires ( shahawāt ) indicated by the Most-High’s saying: “Fair in people’s eyes is their love of what they desire: women and sons.”Footnote 75 Al-WansharīsīFootnote 76 said in his summary of al-Burzulī’sFootnote 77 Nawāzil: “The pious teacher Abū Bakr al-WarrāqFootnote 78 said: ‘Every lust hardens the heart except the desire for sex, for that one purifies it. For this reason, the prophets—upon them be peace—engaged in [sex].’” (fin) And this manifestly indicates ( wa huwa ka’l-ṣarīḥ ) that frequency ( ikthār ) in [sexual intercourse] is ordered, and the emphasis ( mubālagha ) on it is for this reason ( ‘illa ).
[P18] It is narrated that SulaymānFootnote 79 (upon him be peace) had seven hundred concubines and three hundred wives, and that Dāwūd (upon him be peace) had one hundred wives. And God knows best.
This line of reasoning, regarding the sexual appetites of the prophets and the compatibility between such appetite and piety, is resumed later in the fatwā . At this point, however, al-Wazzānī pauses his rationalist argumentation and turns to present support for polygamy from the verbal sunna—that is, from ḥadīths wherein the Prophet commanded marriage and the numerical increase of the umma through procreation; therefore, multiple marriage constitutes obedience to the Sunna through maximizing offspring:Footnote 80
[P19] As for the Sunna, [the Prophet], peace be upon him, stated: “Marriage is my way ( sunna ), so whoever loves me, let him emulate my way ( sunna ).” And his saying, peace be upon him: “Intermarry ( tanākaḥū ) and procreate, for I will boast of you to the nations on the Day of Resurrection.” And in a narration: “Through you, I vie with other nations in number.” As for his saying, peace be upon him, “Intermarry and procreate”: in it is the command first of all to intermarry, and then he branches into “procreate.” In this is a sign that the purpose of marriage is procreation, that is, children. So, it is incumbent upon one who marries to seek not only his desires but also procreation and increase of the umma . Indeed, desire is the motivation ( sabab ) for reaching that end. Then he, upon him be peace, said: “Through you, I vie with other nations in number.” In this is an urging toward abundance of progeny, and a requirement upon one who is able, to effect this. For this reason, he, peace be upon him, said: “A black woman who is fertile is better than a beautiful woman who is barren.”Footnote 81 And, without doubt, progeny ( nasl ) increases with multiplicity of wives and decreases with one wife, generally. This is obvious. And God knows best.
After marshalling the above arguments in favor of polygamy from the Qur’an, Prophetic sīra , and ḥadīths , al-Wazzānī then takes a detour away from scriptural analysis to make a larger argument about the equitable nature of Islamic moral law. The sharī‘a of the Prophet and Islam, he asserts, is a path of balance ( ‘adl ) between needs, benefits, and rights of both men and women. Islam, he contends, provides the middle path between the Torah of Moses—which gave too much, sexually and conjugally, to men—and the law of Jesus—which gave too much to women. This presentation is interspersed with examples from the Prophet’s companions and family, as well as some commentary from notable Mālikī scholars, specifically ‘Abd Allāh b. Muḥammad b. Mas‘ūd al-Dar‘ī al-Tamkrūtī (aka al-Tamgrūtī) (d. 980 AH/1572 CE)Footnote 82 and Qāḍī ‘Iyāḍ ibn Mūsā al-Yaḥṣubī al-Sabtī (476–544 AH/1083–1149 CE), referenced above and author of Al-Shifā’ (The healing):
[P20.1] And I have seen in al-Tamkrūtī, in Al-Rawḍ al-Yāni‘,Footnote 83 that he distinguishes between ( faṣala bayn ) a man who needs more than one [wife] because one does not satisfy him sexually, and therefore seeks to increase beyond her, and [a man who,] if she satisfies him, does not do so.Footnote 84 [Al-Tamkrūtī’s] proof ( naṣṣ ) is that God Most-High prohibited increasing beyond one woman in the law of Jesus, upon him be peace, giving priority to the well-being of women. And the opposite of this is [found] in the Torah, whence increasing beyond one is permitted without limit, giving priority to the wellbeing of men. And [he] combined the two types of well-being in the law ( sharī‘a ) of our prophet Muḥammad, which is morally supreme ( mufaḍḍala ) over all the other laws ( sharā’i‘ ), and so it permits to [men] four free women along with concubines. Then [al-Tamkrūtī] said, after some words about balance ( ‘adl ) between women [i.e., wives], “In the same way that balance is sought from the man, it is sought from her, for it is possible that he needs multiple [wives]. Because it is natural for one who is overtaken by desire that one woman will not secure him ( lā tuḥṣinuhu ), and so it is right for the owner [of this desire] to have permission to increase beyond one. But this is not virtuous ( ṭayyib ) unless one is balanced between them [i.e., the wives] (lā yaṭīb dhālika illā bi-‘adlihinna).”Footnote 85
After his excursus on the intrinsic equity of the sharī‘a , al-Wazzānī returns to examples not only from the Prophet, but also from his companions, family members, and successors—that is, of the idealized generations of Islam known collectively as the salaf . He cites these models as polygamous, some of them even to the point of excess, noting that excess did not compromise their moral nobility or their asceticism ( zuhd ). He highlights the case of the Prophet’s grandson Ḥasan, the son of ‘Alī and Fāṭima, who was mythologized as a serial marrier and divorcer. Rather than criticizing his habit of changing out wives as intemperate, injurious, or contrary to sobriety, he presents it as perfectly acceptable and perhaps even admirable. The message is that abundance of marriage was praiseworthy for the salaf as it was for the prophets, and it continues to be so, even if the only way for a Muslim man to achieve it is through repeated divorce:
[P20.2] Many of the Companions, may God be pleased with them, were of those who had three or four [wives]. ‘Alī—God honor his countenance—had four wives and seventeen concubines, and he was among the most ascetic ( azhad ) of the Prophet’s companions. And in this is an indicant ( dalīl ) that abundance of women ( kathrat al-nisā’ ) is not worldliness ( min al-dunyā ). As Sufyān b. ‘UyaynaFootnote 86, God be pleased with him, said: “Poor, poor (is the man) who has (only) one wife. If she menstruates, he menstruates with her, and if she bleeds after childbirth, he bleeds with her.”Footnote 87
[P21] It is narrated from al-Ḥasan b. ‘Alī, God be pleased with him, that he was a serial marrier ( minkāḥ ), to the point that he married more than a hundred women. He would frequently contract [marriage with] four (women) in a single contract, and many a time would divorce four at a time and exchange them [for others].
[P22] It is narrated that he entered one day upon ‘Abd al-Raḥmān b. al-Ḥārith, the faqīh of Madīna and its chief,Footnote 88 in his home. [‘Abd al-Raḥmān] extolled [al-Ḥasan b. ‘Alī] greatly, saying to him, “Why did you not send for me, that I may have come to you?” [Al-Hasan] said to him: “[Because] the need is ours.” [‘Abd al-Raḥman] said: “What is it?” [Al-Ḥasan] said: “I approach you to seek the hand of your daughter.” ‘Abd al-Raḥmān bowed his head in silence, then he raised it and said: “By God, I know no one on the face of the earth dearer to me than you, but you know that my daughter is a part of me and that you are a serial-divorcer ( miṭlāq ). I fear that you will divorce her and then the affection I have in my heart for you will change, and I would hate that my heart should change toward you, for you are a part of God’s Messenger, God’s peace and blessings be upon him. However, if you made it a condition ( sharaṭta ) that you would not divorce her, then I would marry you [to her].”
Al-Ḥasan went silent, and then he stood up and left. Someone in [‘Abd al-Raḥmān’s] familyFootnote 89 said: I heard [al-Ḥasan] walking and saying, “ ‘Abd al-Raḥman wants nothing but to make his daughter a shackle around my neck! If there were no justification for polygamy ( wa in lam yuḥtajj li’l-ta‘addud ) or if he feared imbalance ( ‘adam al-‘adl ) and therefore [argued] for one [wife], then I would have [gladly] submitted to him in religious and worldly [matters] ( uslim lahu fi dīnihi wa dunyāhu ).”Footnote 90
Al-Wazzānī’s narration is remarkable because it plainly recognizes the unsavoriness of Ḥasan’s conduct even in the eyes of his male contemporaries and the pain that he caused to his wives and their families through his cavalier marital habits, and yet on the whole al-Wazzānī defends such conduct.
After this favorable description of the marital propensities of the Prophet’s grandson and second Shī‘ī imām, al-Wazzānī closes his fatwā with another excerpt from Qāḍī ‘Iyāḍ, in which the latter generally extols marriage, condemns celibacy, and asserts the compatibility of sexual activity and asceticism ( zuhd ):
[P23] The point is sufficiently made with [what precedes], but [we furthermore add that] the qāḍī [‘Iyāḍ] in Al-Shifā said: “As for life’s necessities, there are three types.” He mentioned the first and then said:
The second type is that in which abundance ( kathra ) is praised, and in which plenitude ( wufūr ) is a source of pride, such as marriage and status. As for marriage, it [i.e., its merit] is agreed upon morally and socially ( shar‘an wa ‘ādatan ). It is an indicant of excellence and of sound manhood ( al-kamāl wa ṣiḥḥat al-dhukūra ), pride in its abundance remains a recognized custom, and its praiseworthiness is an age-old tradition ( sīra māḍiya ). As for [its place] in the sharī‘a , it is a documented sunna ( sunna ma’thūra ).
Indeed, Ibn ‘AbbasFootnote 91 said: “The best of this umma are those who are most in women,” pointing to [the Prophet]. And [the Prophet] said: “Intermarry and procreate, for I will boast about you to the nations on the Day of Judgment.” And he prohibited celibacy ( tabattul ) due to what [marriage] enables of curbing desire and lowering the gaze. These are the two things [the Prophet] indicated with his saying: “Whosover is able, let him marry, for it is more effective at lowering the gaze and more protective of the private parts.” [Marriage is praiseworthy] to the point that the scholars have not considered it to be something that diminishes asceticism ( zuhd ).Footnote 92 Said Sahl b. ‘Abd AllāhFootnote 93: “Indeed, [women] are beloved to the master of the messengers, so how can there be renunciation from [them]?” And similar is [transmitted] from Ibn ‘Uyayna.Footnote 94 Indeed, the most renunciate of the Companions had numerous wives and concubines and were abundant of marriage. Many such instances of this are narrated about al-Ḥasan, ‘Ali, Ibn ‘Umar and others. And indeed, many hated to meet God in a bachelor (‘azab) state.Footnote 95
Thus ends the discussion, and God knows best. Spoken by and written by the servant of the Lord Most-High, al-Mahdī al-Wazzānī. (fin)
Discussion
In arguing for the moral superiority and sharī‘a legitimacy of polygamy—and polygyny—vis-à-vis monogamy, Al-Wazzānī’s opinion is noteworthy for three key features: first, its profound androcentrism; second, its glorification of sexual gratification; and third, its claim that polygamy—even when pushed to its limits as in the case of Ḥasan, represents equity and balance ( ‘adāla ).
Firstly, al-Wazzānī’s fatwa is exceedingly androcentric. Men’s needs, desires, and rights are heavily prioritized, to the point that women appear as sexual objects or procreative instruments, entirely expendable as human subjects or emotional companions. Pleasure, well-being, and virtue are presented as concerning only men. For instance, the assessment as to whether or not a husband is maintaining balanced behavior, or committing imbalance between his wives, is to be made only by the husband. The free wife is demoted to the position of a slavewoman or concubine; indeed, the wife is cast as a greater burden than a concubine—specifically because she has rights that she can impose on her husband.
In al-Wazzānī’s argument, plural wives are morally expedient because they are avenues to greater good deeds, through expenditure and also through enabling numerical increase of the Prophetic umma , and therefore to greater reward ( ajr ) from God. The soteriological value of a woman as an ajr -producer is in part logically anchored in her fertility. Most notably, al-Wazzānī feels that it is only natural that a man with excess sexual desire seek to placate that desire by pursuing sex with more women; for a woman to object to him doing so would be patently unfair and against the dictates of equity ( ‘adāla ) or balance ( ‘adl ). For any laws, moral strictures, or societal mores to obstruct a man’s carnal desires is rejected; thus, a monogamous man who must abstain from sex due to his wife’s menstruation is to be pitied. Even the extreme libidinal impulses of Ḥasan b. ‘Alī, who exchanged four wives at a time, are presented sympathetically; ‘Abd al-Raḥmān’s desire that his daughter have any degree of stability in her marriage is presented as a shackle. The above examples show that al-Wazzānī advocated the use of women (and children) for men’s sexual and salvational needs.
Secondly, al-Wazzānī’s opinion is aggressively sex-positive. He extols sexual gratification—within the technical bounds of the sharī‘a —to the point that he excludes its pursuit from the normal calculus of spiritual and moral development—no matter how excessive or callous that pursuit. In keeping with his androcentrism, al-Wazzānī’s pro-sex viewpoint is entirely gender-differentiated: It is only male desire and gratification that is to be indulged, not female. Male sexual gratification is to be curbed only by the technical scriptural limitation on the number of simultaneous wives to four, and by the hazy—and male-determined—moral standard of balance ( ‘adl ) between wives. Indeed, says al-Wazzānī, if a man were not so limited, the ideal would be nine wives, in imitation of the Prophet. Surprisingly, in light of a long ascetic tradition in Islam that regards unbridled bodily appetites such as sexual desire as avenues to sin and things to be controlled, he claims that sexual desire and activity uniquely do not undermine piety, do not “harden the heart.” Rather, sex purifies the heart, and so the most pious—indeed the most ascetic—of men—the prophets and their companions—were the most sexually driven. In this calculus, a man’s limitation to only one sexual partner is not only unnecessary but morally problematic.
Thirdly, al-Wazzānī presents his view of women and sexuality in general, and his particular valorization of polygamy over monogamy, as the epitome of ‘adāla , equity or moral balance. He highlights the centrality of ‘adl as the sole Qur’anic condition on a man who seeks to marry multiple wives, writing, “For the matter as a whole revolves around balance ( ‘adl ), and wheresoever you find balance, then that is what you must do.”Footnote 96 He sees the equity of Islamic marital ethics as particularly apparent in comparative religious context, as the permission to marry four wives strikes a midpoint between the Torah of Moses and the Gospel of Jesus, and between the well-being ( maṣlaḥa ) of men and that of women. Indeed, by introducing the example of al-Ḥasan b. ‘Alī, he proposes that that even an extreme polygamy that caters to the most unconstrained male sexual desire reflects the moral ideal of ‘adāla , and is therefore exemplary. The implication is that restricting a man to only one wife constitutes inequity and thus is illegitimate. Of critical importance to understanding the tensions in modern Islamic ethico-legal discourse, al-Wazzānī’s conception of ‘adāla —as reflected in this fatwā —is antithetical to the conceptions of justice—particularly as regards women, gender, and marriage—that were then gaining favor in much of the Muslim world.
Al-Wazzānī’s argument in favor of polygamy is both pointed and persuasive. He forwards effective linguistic and rational arguments based on scriptures and on the thinking of earlier scholars. At the same time, he is fairly selective in what he presents. For instance, although he discusses Qur’an 4:3 in depth, his analysis begins with the main clause, leaving out the conditional clause at the start of the verse, which is, “If ye fear that ye shall not be able to deal justly with the orphans.”Footnote 97 This conditional sets up the very option for polygamy in the first place, as in the following: “then marry women what pleases you of these women, two or three or four.”Footnote 98 The conditional clause can justly be seen as the scriptural starting point for any discussion of polygamy, and suggests it as an exceptional practice in relation to orphans ( yatāmā ), which considerably limits the scope of the practice. However, al-Wazzānī omits it.Footnote 99
Another example of al-Wazzānī’s selective use of scripture is his neglect of Qur’an 4:129: “Ye will never able to be balanced ( lan ta‘dilū ) between women, even if it is your ardent desire.” This verse, which became a linchpin in modern feminist discourse on marriage, indicates that a man cannot be just between multiple wives. Even if he were to ultimately reject the relevance of this verse to discussions of polygamy—which was the approach taken by many medieval exegetes—his decision to exclude it entirely from his analysis is glaring, particularly as it played a central role in the anti-polygamy discourse of his era.
Al-Wazzānī also ignores a central precept in classical Islamic jurisprudence in his favorable presentation of the numerous and frequent marriages of Ḥasan b. ‘Alī. Clearly, these frequent marriages were only possible due to frequent divorces. The sharī‘a tradition casts divorce as highly discouraged, even if permitted. This position is built on the sound prophetic ḥadīth , “The most hated of permissible things to Allāh ( abghaḍ al-ḥalāl il’ Allāh) is divorce.”Footnote 100 Yet the jurist presents Ḥasan’s excessive divorces without any commentary, leaving the impression that such conduct is a masculine ideal and that any woman or her family who opposes it is acting unfairly and inequitably (that is, in opposition to ‘adāla ).
In short, al-Wazzānī pursues an aggressively and unusually pro-polygamy position in this fatwā, ignoring evidence and arguments that equate polygamy and monogamy, that limit polygamy, or that discourage polygamy. But why was al-Wazzānī arguing for polygamy so insistently? Certainly, part of the explanation lies in the Islamic sharī‘a tradition itself and its scriptural sources, which are generally patriarchal, generally accommodating to sexual desire (especially male), and generally concerned with ‘adāla . But his position and argumentation are more forceful and more androcentric than normally seen in classical Sunnī juristic discourse, which tends to present both forms of marriage (and even concubinage) without moral preference, and which may even acknowledge the non-idealness of polygamy. I suggest, in line with Terem’s reading, that through this opinion, al-Wazzānī’s is consciously and energetically opposing the modernist trend of his age. He is doubling down on the validity and moral correctness not only of Islam, the Qur’an, and the Sunna of the Prophet—which the Islamic modernists also upheld—but also of the juristic tradition and the patriarchal vision that it embodies. In doing so, he resists modern gender discourses that seek to equalize men and women and to grant women greater agency in the spheres of family law and sexual ethics. This fatwā challenges feminist arguments that polygamy should be curtailed if not entirely eliminated from Muslim practice. Furthermore, its insistence that the Islamic form of marriage and sexual relations is not only socio-ethically equal to but in fact more equitable and virtuous than Jewish and Christian forms, appears to be a counterpolemic to the Western claims of socio-ethical superiority that undergirded European imperialist efforts across the Muslim world.
A final point to consider is this: How well does this adamantly pro-polygamy fatwā square with Terem’s casting of al-Wazzānī as a traditionalist reformer who sought to move toward more woman-friendly positions, even if within the patriarchal parameters of the Mālikī madhhab ? Not too well. This opinion certainly does not reflect a push toward gender equality or toward women’s sexual or marital rights in any way, but rather the opposite. His presentation of women as a means to men’s sexual fulfillment and salvific goals is objectifying to the point of misogyny, as is his overall lack of concern for wives’ well-being. What, then, might explain the discrepancy between Terem’s view of al-Wazzānī based on her analysis of fatwas in Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd, and this fatwa in Al-Nawāzil al-Ṣughrā? One explanation is that his ideas changed over time. Al-Nawāzil al-Ṣughrā was compiled before Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd, so it is possible that with time, his positions became less conservative—or rather, less neo-conservative, given that his unusually vehement assertion of maximal polygamy as superior to minimal polygamy, and his condemnation of monogamy as pitiful, emasculating, and non-Sunnaic is not the norm within medieval fiqh . Substantiating this explanation would require further comparative studies between the two collections.
Another, more complex, explanation is that al-Wazzānī’s ideas did not change, but that he saw a distinction between rules pertaining to gender in financial matters and rules pertaining to gender in matters of sexuality. The two examples that Terem analyzes from Al-Mi‘yār al-Jadīd both have to do with money: one with inheritance and the other with maintenance. It is possible that al-Wazzānī distinguished between marriage as a socioeconomic institution and marriage as a sexual-moral institution and held that when it came to the former, equity demanded greater rights for women, but that when it came to the latter, equity demanded greater indulgence of men’s carnal appetites. A clearer understanding of al-Wazzānī’s views on women, gender, and sexuality, and how to explain the seeming divergence between his early opinions and later opinions, would also require closer inspection of these collections.
In the end, fatāwā offer windows into how the Islamic ethico-legal tradition responds not only to the social conditions of participating jurists, but also to their cultural conditions. This fatwā registers and responds to a changing cultural climate, in which modernists and feminists were seeking a reconfiguration of the very ideology of gender, and in which marriage was the battleground.
Acknowledgments and Citation Guide
I thank the anonymous reviewers of this article for their detailed and constructive feedback, and the JLR editorial staff for their efforts. I also thank my graduate research assistant, Gracie Springette, for her assistance in typing out the fatwā . I have no competing interests to declare. The citations follow Chicago Manual of Style, 17th edition. Unless otherwise noted, all translations are mine.
Appendix: Al-Wazzānī’s Fatwā on the Superiority of Polygamy Over Monogamy, from Al-Nawāzil al-Ṣughrā (The lesser responsa), 2:18–23.
[¶1] وسئلت هل الأفضل تعدد الزوجات أو الاقتصار على الواحدة، وهل كثرة النكاح مما يمتدح بهشرعا وعادة لدلالته على كمال الرجولة أم لا؟
[¶2] فأجبت: الحمد للّه رب العالمين وصلى اللّه على سيدنا محمد وعلى آله وأصحابه وأزواجه .وذرياته أجمعين
[¶3]إن تعدد الزوجات أفضل من الواحدة حسبما دل على ذلك الكتاب والقياس والسنة، بل حكى .القاضي أبو الفضل عياض في الشفاء الاتفاق على ذلك، وياتي نصه بحول اللّه
[¶4]أما الكتاب فقوله تعالى: (فانكحوا ما طاب لكم من النساء مثْنى وثُلَاثَ ورباع) الآية. فقوله تعالى: فانكحوا ما طاب، أي النوع الطيب، ثم فسره بمثنى وثلاث ورباع، أي اثنين أو ثلاثا أو أربعا. إذ قوله مثنى، بدل من ما أو حال منها. وأيا كان، ففيه تفضيل المتعدد على الواحدة، لأن الواحدة لم تذكر في النوع الطيب فتكون من غير الطيب. فيفهم من الآية ترجيح المتعدد على الواحدة قطعا. والمعنى: فانْكِحوا الطيبات لكم معدودات. هذا العدد ثنتين أو ثلاثا أو أربعا. فإن خفتم أن لا تعدلوا بين هذه الأعداد، ولو في أقلها، كما خفتم ترك العدل فوقها أو كما خفتموه في حق اليتامى فاكتفوا بواحدة أو أو المملوكة، قرئ بنصب واحدة (أي فالتزِموا واختاروا واحدة) وذروا الجمع رأسا. فأن الأمر كله يدور مع العدل فأينما وجدتم العدل فعليكم به. وقرئ فواحدة بالرفع أي فكفت واحدة، أو فالمقنع واحدة، أو ما ملكت أيمانكم جمع يمين، ونسب الملك لليمين .بالخصوص مع ان الملك للذات كلها لأن بها يكون التصرف
[¶5] ،وأيضا قوله تعالى: (فإن خفتم ألا تعدلوا فواحدة). يفيد ترجيح التعدد، لأن الاكتفاء بالواحدة إنما جمل مع خوف عدم العدل. فمفهوم الآية، إن لم تخافوا عدم العدل، بل تحققتم من أنفسكم العدل، فلا تكتفوا .بالواحدة، بل انكحوا ما طاب لكم مثنى وثلاث ورباع
[¶6] فالحاصل أن من خاف عدم العدل، فليكتف بواحدة، ومن لا يخاف ذلك فلا يكتفي مها، بل يطلب .بالزيادة عليها ندباً، لقوله تعالى: فانكحوا. تأمله
[¶7] وأيضا فإن قوله تعالى: (فواحدة أو ما ملكت أيمانكم) يفيد أفضلية التعدد، لأنه جعل الواحدة .بمنزلة الأمة، وسمى المتعددة طيبا، وذلك يفيد ما قلناه
[¶8]قال الإمام الفخر الرازي ما نصه: خيَّر في هذه الآية، بين التزوج بالواحدة، والتسري والتخيير بين الشيئين، مشعر بالمساواة بينهما في الحكمة المطلوبة، كما إذا قال الطبيب: كل التفاح أو الرمان، فإن ذلك يشعر بكون كل واحد منهما قائما مقام الآخر في تمام الغرض. وكما أن الآية دلت على هذه التَّسْوِية، فكذلك العقل يدل عليها، لأن المقصود هو السكن والازدواج، و تحصيل الدين ومصالح البيت، وكذلك حاصل .بالطريقين
[¶9] وأيضا: إن فرضنا الكلام فيما إذا كانت المرأة مملوكة ثم اعتقها وتزوج بها، فهاهنا يظهر جداً .(حصول الاستواءبين التزوج والتسري. (ه
[¶10]،وقال أيضا قبل هذا سوى في السهولة واليسر، بين الحرة الواحدة والإِيماء من غير حصر ولعمري أنهن أقل تبعة وأخف مؤونة من المهائر، لا عليك أكثرت منهم أم أقللت، عدلت بينهن في القسم أم لم :تعدل، عزلت عنهن أم لم تعزل. (ه). فتبين بهذا أنه يؤخذ تفضيل التعدد على الواحدة من ثلاثة أوجه.الأول: من تصديره بالمتعدد، وتعبيره عنه بالطيب، وأمره بنكاحه .والثاني: من إباحته الاقتصار على الواحدة، مع خوف عدم العدل فقط .والثالث: من تسويته نكاح الواحدة بالأمة أو الإِماء واللّه أعلم
[¶11] وأما القياس فإن التعدد سنته صّلى اللّه عليه وسلم، لأنه ثبت بالتواتر أنه صّلى اللّه عليه وسلم ،توفي عن تسع نسوة، ثم إنه تعالى أمرنا باتباعه فقال جل وعلا: (واتبعوه لعلكم تهتدون). وأقل مراتب الأمر الندب. وقال عليه السلام: (فمن رغب عن سنتي فليس مني). فظاهر هذا الحديث، يقتضي توجه اللوم على من ترك تزوج هذا العدد، مع القدرة عليه، لكن قام الدليل على منع الزيادة على الأربع في حقنا، وهو الإجماع من .الصحابة والتابعين وعلماء الأمصار قاطبة، على منع ذلك
[¶12]قال في المختصر: <<إلا إن اتفق على فساده فلا طلاق ولا إرث كخامسة :ومستند الإِجماع الخبر، وهو ما رُويَ أن غيلان أسلم وتحته عشر نسوة، فقال له رسول اللّه صّلى اللّه عليه وسلم .أمسك أربعا وفارق باقيهن
[¶13]وروي أن نوفل بن معاوية أسلم وتحته خمس نسوة. فقال له عليه السلام: أمسك أربعا وفارق .واحدة. فبقيت الأربع على أصل السنة للقادر، تأمله
[¶14] وأيضا فإن من فوائد النكاح العظيمة، تكثير الأجر بالنفقة، ونفقة الاثنين فأكثر، تفضل نفقة .الواحدة في الغالب
[¶15](.وفي الحديث: (من الذنوب ذنوب لا يكفرها إلا الهم بطلب المعيشة على العيال
[¶16]وفي الحديث أيضا: (من أنفق على ثلاث بنات، أوجب اللّه له الجنة.) وقال الخرشي في شرح المختصر:« النكاح المختصر: <<لغة الجهد والمشَقّة » لخبر: إن من الذنوب ذنوبا لا يكفرها صلاة ولا صوم ولا جهاد، إلا .السعي على العيال. أو كما قال عليه السلام
[¶17] وأيضا فإنه أي النكاح، من الشهوات الست، المشار لها بقوله تعالى: (زين للناس حب الشهوات من النساء والبنين). قال الونشريسي في اختصار نوازل البرزلي، قال الشيخ الصالح أبو بكر .(الوراق: كل شهوة تقسي القلب إلا شهوة الجماع، فإنها تصفية، وهذا كان الأنبياء عليهم السلام يفعلونه. (ه .وهو كالصريح في أنه يطلب الإِكثار منه والمبالغة فيه لهذه العلة
[¶18]وروى أنه كان لسليمان عليه السلام، سبعمائة سرية وثلاثمائة مهرية. ولداود عليه السل ام .مائة زوجة واللّه أعلم
[¶19]وأما السنة فقوله صّلى اللّه عليه وسلم: النكاح سنتي، فمن أحبّني فليستَنَّ بسنّتي. وقوله صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم: تناكحوا تناسلوا، فإني مُبَاهٍ بكم الأمم يوم القيامة. وفي رواية، فإني مكاثر بكم الأمم. فقوله صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم: << تناكحوا تناسلوا>>، فيه الأمر أولًا بالتناكح، ثم فرع عليه قوله: تناسلوا. ففيه الإشارة إلى أن المقصود من النكاح النسل أي الولد، فينبغي للناكح أن لا يقصد مجرد الشهوة فقط، بل يقصد بذلك النسل وتكثير الأمة، وإنما الشهوة سبب التوصل إلى ذلك. ثم قال صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم: فإنّي مكاثرٌ بكم :الأممَ، ففيه التحريض على كثرة النسل. وأنه ينبغي التسبب فيه لمن قدر عليه. وهذا قال صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم سوداء ولود، خير من حسناء عقيم. ولا شك أن النسل يكثر بتعدد الأزواج، ويقل بالواحدة في الغالب. وهذا .ظاهر جدا واللّه أعلم
[¶20.1]ورأيت للتمجروتي في الروض اليافع، أنه فصل بين أن يحتاج الرجل للزيادة على الواحدة بحيث لا تكفيه واحدة للوطإ، فيطلب بالزيادة عليها، وإن كفته فلا. ونصه أن اللّه تعالى حرّم الزيادة على امرأة واحدة في شرع عيسى عليه السلام، تقديما لمصلحة النساء، وعكس ذلك في التوراة، فجوز الزيادة على الواحدة من غير حصر، تقديما لمصلحة الرجل. وجمع في شريعة نبينا محمد صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم المفضلة :على سائر الشرائع بين المصلحتين، فجوز لهم أربع حرائر مع التسَرِّي. ثم قال بعد كلام في العدل بين النساء ،فكما يطلب العدل من الرجل يطلب منها، لأنه قد يحتاج لتعددهن، لأن من الطباع من تغلب عليه الشهوة .بحيث لا تحصنه المرأة الواحدة، فيحق لصاحبها أذن، الزيادة على الواحدة، ولا يطيب ذلك إلا بعدلهن
[¶20.2] وكثير من الصحابة رضي اللّه عنهم من له الثلاث والأربع. وكان لعلي كرم اللّه وجهه أربع نسوة وسبع عشر سرية، وهو من أزهد اصحاب رسول اللّه صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم. وفيه دليل أن كثرة النساء ليس من الدنيا كما قال سفيان بن عيينة رضي اللّه عنه: مسكين مسكين من له زوجة واحدة، إن حاضت .حاض معها وإن نفست نفس معها
[¶21]يروى عن الحسن بن علي رضي اللّه عنه أنه كان منكاحا حتى نكح أزيد من مائة امرأة، وكان ربما عقد على أربع في عقد واحد، وربما طلق أربعا في وقت واحد واستبدلهن.
[¶22]ورويَ أنه دخل يوما على عبد الرحمان بن الحارث فقيه المدينة ورئيسها في بيته فعظمه تعظيما وقال له: ألا أرسلت إلي فأتيتك. فقال له: الحاجة لنا. قال: ما هي؟ قال: جئتك خاطبا ابنتك. فأطرق عبد الرحمن ثم رفع رأسه فقال: واللّه ما أعلم أحدا على وجه الأرض أعز إلي منك، ولَكِنَّك تعلم ان ابنتي بضعة مني وأنت مطلاق، وأخاف أن تطلقها فيتغير قلبي في محبتك، وأنا أكره أن يتغير قلبي عليك، فإنك بضعة من رسول اللّه صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم. فإن شرطت أن لا تطلقها، زوجتك. فسكت الحسن وقام وخرج. قال بعض أهله: سمعته يمشي وتقول: ما أراد عبد الرحمن إلا أن يجعل ابنته طوقا في عنقي. وإن لم يحتج للتعدد أو .خاف عدم العدل، فالواحدة أسلم له في دينه ودنياه
[¶23] انتهى الغرض منه، لكن قال القاضي في الشفا ما نصه: وأما ما تدعو ضرورة الحياة اليه فعلى ثلاثة ضروب، فذكر الأول ثم قال: والضرب الثاني ما يتفق التمدح بكثرته، والفخر بوُفُورِهِ كالنكاح والجاه. أما النكاح فمتفق فيه شرعا وعادة، فإنه دليل الكمال وصحة الذكورية، ولم يزل التفاخر بكثرته عادة معروفة، والتمادح به سيرة ماضية. وأما في الشرع فسنة مأثورة. وقد قال ابن عباس: أفضل هذه الأمة أكثرها نساء، مشيرا إليه صّلى اللّه عليه وسلم، وقد قال عليه الصلاة والسلام: تناكحوا تناسلوا فإني مباهٍ بكم الأمم يوم القيامة، ونهى عن التبتل، مع ما فيه من قَمع الشهوة، وغض البصر اللَّذَيْنِ نبه عليهما صّلى اللّه عليه وسلّم .بقوله: من كان ذا طَوْل فليتزوج، فإنه أغض للبصر وأحصن للفوج، حتى لم يره العلماء مما يقدح في الزهد قال سهل بن عبد اللّه: قد حُبَّبْنَ إلى سيد المرسلين، فكيف يزهد فيهن؟! ونحوُه لابن عيينة. وقد كان زهاد الصحابة كثيري التزوج والسراري كثيري النكاح، وحكي في ذلك عن الحسن وعلي وابن عمر وغيرهم غير شيء، أي شيءٌ كثير، وقد كره غير واحد أن يلقى اللّه عزبا. انتهى الغرض منه، واللّه أعلم. قاله وكتبه عبد .(ربه تعالى المهدي الوزاني (ه
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