Lesson #3 is from June 14, 2025.

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In the Name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate.

All praise belongs to Allah, Lord of the worlds. May Allah bless our master and prophet Muhammad and his pure family.

Greetings to our dear friends and respected companions who are following these weekly discussions on taqlid as part of this summer school.

I wish there were an opportunity and the means for us to discuss these issues through direct dialogue, so that we could benefit from the views and reflections of our friends as well. Nevertheless, under the present circumstances, and especially during the summer break, this is at least what is within our capacity. I hope that our friends will compensate for whatever shortcomings may exist in these presentations.

In the previous session, we discussed the rational-conventional basis (ʿuqalāʾī) of taqlid. We argued that taqlid in religious matters is a branch and application of a broader rational-conventional principle according to which human beings, in the various affairs of life, refer to experts and specialists and act according to their opinions, even when they themselves do not possess the necessary knowledge and expertise. This is precisely what taqlid means: accepting the statement of another without personally possessing the evidence.

If we accept this foundation, which we defended in the previous session, then we must carefully examine how it applies to taqlid in religious rulings and be prepared to answer questions regarding that application.

At first glance, this principle as a rational-conventional rule does not appear controversial. We all observe that when people become ill, they consult physicians and act according to their instructions. This is a rational practice, and if someone departs from it, he is typically criticized and blamed. Thus, the principle itself is not really subject to doubt or dispute.

The question, however, is whether the case of a muqallid referring to a marjaʿ al-taqlid and acting according to his fatwas is truly an application of the same principle.

As you may recall, some of our prominent scholars have relied upon this principle and argued that taqlid in religious rulings is indeed of the same nature. More recently, however, a number of academics and university scholars have challenged this claim. They have argued that consulting a jurist, obtaining a fatwa from him, and practicing taqlid differs fundamentally from consulting experts such as physicians. Consequently, the rational grounds that justify consulting a physician and relying upon his opinion do not necessarily justify taqlid of a mujtahid or obtaining one’s religious rulings from him.

One respected university professor, a faculty member at the University of Isfahan, published an article on this topic approximately three or four years ago. The article generated a number of reactions and responses. The purpose of the article was to explain the differences between taqlid of a jurist and consulting a physician. The author sought to demonstrate that a muqallid who refers to a jurist is not analogous to a patient who refers to a physician, and that this comparison is therefore a false analogy. Consequently, one cannot establish the legitimacy of taqlid of a jurist merely by appealing to the legitimacy of consulting a physician.

Naturally, we cannot read the entire article here. Interested readers may consult it themselves, as it is publicly available. However, after studying the article, it appears to me that the author explains this alleged difference through nine distinct points. In other words, he identifies nine differences intended to show why taqlid of a mujtahid is not the same type of relationship as consulting an expert such as a physician.

I will summarize these nine differences here because our discussion at this stage is still a rational-conventional one. We are not yet appealing to specific textual evidence from the Qur’an, Sunnah, the statements of jurists, or consensus. The argument being made is a rational-conventional argument, the objection is a rational-conventional objection, and therefore, the response must also be rational-conventional.

I have assigned titles to these nine points. The titles themselves are mine, although the substance comes from the author of the article.

1. Exclusivism

The first difference is what I call exclusivism. When one consults a physician, the physician does not tell the patient: “Since you came to me once, you must always come to me for every illness and every future medical issue, and you are not permitted to consult anyone else.” There is no such exclusivity in the physician-patient relationship. Patients remain completely free throughout their lives to choose whichever physician they wish. By contrast, it is argued that once a person begins following a jurist, the path toward consulting other jurists becomes effectively closed.

2. Financial Claims Beyond Expertise

The second difference concerns what I would call financial claims. When a physician is consulted, he offers opinions only within the sphere of diagnosing illness and prescribing treatment. He does not interfere in the patient’s other affairs. For example, he has no claim over the patient’s finances and cannot demand that the patient surrender portions of his wealth to him. At most, he receives payment for the medical services he provides. He cannot say, “In addition to the consultation fee, you must also give me other portions of your wealth.” By contrast, it is argued that taqlid entails the jurist’s involvement in matters relating to a person’s private wealth and financial obligations, together with certain financial claims that arise within that framework.

3. Authoritarianism

The third difference concerns what may be called authoritarianism. A physician leaves the door open for dialogue. He allows the patient to ask questions, provides explanations, clarifies the nature of the illness, explains the purpose of the prescribed medications, and generally seeks to make matters understandable for the patient. According to this criticism, such a culture of questioning does not exist in the relationship between jurists and their followers. Jurists do not consider themselves obligated to provide detailed explanations. They simply issue fatwas.

4. Lack of Opportunity for Revision

The fourth difference concerns the inability to revise one’s course. When consulting a physician, if the physician makes a mistake, the patient can alter his treatment plan, choose a different physician, and pursue an entirely different course of treatment. According to the criticism, such opportunities do not exist in one’s relationship with a jurist.

5. Lack of Updating

The fifth difference concerns the ability to update one’s conclusions. Physicians continually update their information regarding diseases, treatments, and medications. They do not regard themselves as bound to the past. Jurists, however, are said to remain continually tied to past authorities and inherited opinions.

6. Lack of Accountability

The sixth difference concerns accountability. A physician is accountable for his actions. If he prescribes medication or performs a procedure, he can be held responsible. The patient has the right to lodge a complaint. According to this criticism, no comparable right exists for followers in relation to jurists.

7. Conformity to Majority Opinion

The seventh difference is what may be called deference to the dominant view. Jurists are said to be highly committed to the opinions of earlier majorities and widely accepted views. Medicine, by contrast, is portrayed as a field in which practitioners are willing to experiment with new approaches and develop innovative methods of treatment.

8. Dogmatism Versus Probabilistic Thinking

The eighth difference concerns certainty and probability. Physicians generally view their work through the lens of probabilities. Since they are not absolutely certain of their diagnoses, they continually benefit from the opinions and insights of others. Jurists, however, are portrayed as operating with a kind of certainty. They independently engage in ijtihad and deduction and claim to have reached conviction. Once such certainty has been achieved, there is little room left for benefiting from alternative perspectives.

Thus, according to this criticism, juristic reasoning tends toward dogmatism, whereas medical practice remains probabilistic.

9. Lack of Oversight

Finally, the ninth difference concerns oversight and supervision. Physicians practice under the supervision of regulatory institutions. They receive licenses from such bodies. If mistakes occur, especially repeated mistakes, avenues exist for reporting them and bringing them before the relevant supervisory authorities. These regulatory institutions oversee physicians and can intervene when repeated errors occur. They may even prevent a physician from continuing to practice.

According to the criticism, no comparable oversight exists in the institution of taqlid. Followers refer to jurists whose activities are not subject to any supervisory body. Under all circumstances, the jurist can continue issuing fatwas and maintaining his position and status. For this reason, the author argues that taqlid of a jurist cannot be regarded as the same kind of activity as consulting an expert.

As an illustration, he lists the characteristics of a patient consulting a physician and then asks us to replace the word “physician” with “jurist” and the word “patient” with “muqallid.” According to him, none of these characteristics remain true when applied to the relationship between a jurist and a follower. Therefore, these features do not actually exist in the institution of taqlid.

After this discussion began and the article was published, a number of responses appeared. Some scholars responded to all of these objections, while others addressed only certain aspects of them. Among those who replied was a doctoral student at the Imam Khomeini Educational and Research Institute in Qom, specializing in the philosophy of religion. His response has also been published and is publicly available.

In his response to the university professor, he begins by acknowledging an important difference between taqlid and consulting a physician. When a patient visits a physician, he seeks treatment for an illness. He wants relief from his suffering and hopes to regain his health. Most importantly, he is able to evaluate whether this goal has been achieved. For example, if a person consults an ophthalmologist and receives treatment, whether through eyeglasses, surgery, or some other medical intervention, he can determine for himself whether improvement has occurred. He can assess whether his vision has improved. Likewise, when a patient consults a cardiologist or another specialist, he is generally able to evaluate whether the treatment has produced the desired results.

But in the matter of taqlid, the issue of improvement is not fundamentally involved such that the muqallid would possess a standard by which to say, “My condition has improved,” or “My worldly situation has improved.” No. In principle, the jurist does not make such a promise in his issuing of fatwa.

It is the physician who promises improvement to the patient: “Follow this prescription and you will get better.” But the jurist does not say, “Follow this prescription and you will get better.” Rather, what the jurist raises is that human beings have duties before God, and we cannot act arbitrarily. We cannot ignore those duties. We must have a proof before God. Taqlid of a jurist gives us that proof. If we do not perform taqlid, and if we also do not have direct access to the rulings through ijtihad, then we refer to a learned jurist so that we may possess a proof.

What happens after one acts is not within the scope of the jurist’s responsibility. Therefore, questioning, accountability, oversight, and similar matters make sense in relation to the physician, but not in relation to the jurist.

Now, it is not clear to me what conclusion this response reaches, since it accepts a difference between the two cases. Is the result that the rational-conventional principle does not apply here? Because in cases where rational people refer to experts and specialists, they do so in order to solve a problem or improve a condition.

If someone gives his car to a mechanic, the mechanic must locate the defect, fix it, repair it, or replace the faulty part. Then, when the driver gets back into the car, the previous defect should no longer exist. It used to make a noise, and now it no longer does. It would not move properly, and now it does. The defect must be removed. The principle that exists among rational people is that they refer to someone in order to remove such a defect.

But if you say that we have a principle that has nothing to do with removing a defect, then such a principle does not exist among rational people. The rational-conventional rule is limited. With respect to the fact that a person has responsibilities before God and must know what to do, perhaps the intellect may say, “Perform taqlid.” But that is unrelated to the rational-conventional principle being invoked here.

In this response, the respondent says that the jurist has no commitment to changing conditions or improving circumstances. This itself is a separate issue. Is it truly the case that jurists make no such promise? Yes, in acts of worship such as prayer, fasting, and similar duties, there is no particular promise of that kind. But in social rulings, there is also a promise. That is, the jurist, relying upon religious texts, tells people that if you implement the hudud, security will be established in society. If you pay khums and zakat, social and economic justice will emerge in society, and so forth. Therefore, this response does not appear very clear to me.

Another response that has been given is that in the relationship between patient and physician, the physician may make a mistake and, through an incorrect prescription, harm the patient. But a marjaʿ al-taqlid never harms the muqallid, nor will he be subject to punishment. The reason is that if the muqallid acts according to the requirements of taqlid, then before God he is excused and has not suffered harm.

In comparison with the relationship between patient and physician, it is possible for a physician to harm the patient through an incorrect prescription. This is the wording used in that response: “In comparison with the relationship between patient and physician, it is possible for a physician to harm the patient through an incorrect prescription. However, a qualified marjaʿ al-taqlid, through an incorrect fatwa, neither harms his followers nor will God punish him, because it is assumed that he has exerted all his effort in order to attain the ruling of God. In this case, although the followers have acted upon an incorrect fatwa, their reward will not be lost.”

The issue of reward and recompense pertains to the next world. We can say the same regarding the patient and physician. A physician exerts all his effort to restore his patient to health, but he makes an incorrect diagnosis without negligence. We may then say that in the next world he too will have his reward and recompense. But that is not the issue under discussion.

The issue under discussion is whether, from a worldly and physical perspective, a physician who causes harm is liable or not. Jurists regard the physician as liable. Likewise, if a marjaʿ al-taqlid, from this same worldly perspective, causes harm to the muqallid through an error, then this resembles a question discussed in the book of judgment: if a judge makes a mistake and his mistake causes harm, that is, if he issues an incorrect judgment that causes financial or bodily harm, it is said there as well that he is liable, although compensation is paid from the public treasury.

But the statement that a marjaʿ al-taqlid, through an incorrect fatwa, does not harm his followers is not necessarily correct. He may cause harm. A fatwa may become the source of worldly harm for society. This is not impossible.

In any case, this is one type of response. I mentioned two parts of it. First, that religious rulings are not responsible for improving worldly conditions, and since they are not responsible for that, the jurist merely establishes proof and has nothing more to do with the matter. Second, that no harm or loss arises for people from a jurist’s mistake or misunderstanding.

This is a particular way of thinking about ijtihad and taqlid. Of course, our jurists do not generally think in this way. If we consult the books of ijtihad and taqlid, this is not what we find. These are explanations that have appeared in recent times in certain seminary-related academic centers, such as the Imam Khomeini Institute. Such an analysis of taqlid is not compatible with the foundation that taqlid is rational-conventional. Rational-conventional taqlid is not merely taqlid for the sake of attaining proof, and the like.

Now, if we set aside this type of criticism, we must ask: are the objections that have been raised acceptable? Are some of them acceptable? Are all of them unacceptable? They must be answered.

One point that should be noted beneath these nine objections is that it is not clear, according to the theory criticizing taqlid presented by this respected professor, whether these nine points in the comparison between juristic taqlid and consulting a specialist such as a physician are criticisms of the existing state of taqlid in society, or whether they are criticisms of taqlid as such.

Are they criticizing the existing practice of taqlid? Or are they saying that these are not merely features of the existing practice, but necessary implications of taqlid in religious matters? If taqlid in religious matters exists, then these nine features must also exist. It does not matter whether today and here, or tomorrow and elsewhere. In the past, taqlid had these consequences, and if we accept taqlid in the future, it will also have these consequences.

If we accept the first possibility, assuming for the sake of discussion that all nine points are correct, then the result is that the article is not criticizing the foundation of taqlid. Rather, it is criticizing taqlid as practiced in our religious society. But because this has occurred in our religious society, we must return to the rational-conventional standards of taqlid and call for the reform of taqlid.

This is not limited to taqlid in religious matters. Problems may also exist today in the way people consult physicians. In some societies, there may be no regulatory body overseeing physicians. There may be no possibility of follow-up complaints. Even if medical mistakes are repeated, the physician may not be prevented from practicing. After all, did such regulatory bodies exist in the past when physicians practiced medicine? Regulatory institutions are a recent and modern development. Does the absence of such a body undermine the rational-conventional principle of consulting a physician? No.

Or suppose there is a physician who does not speak with his patients, does not allow them to ask questions, and does not pay attention even if the patient does ask. His relationship with the patient may be authoritarian. The conduct of such a physician may be morally criticized, but does the patient’s referral to him become contrary to the rational-conventional principle? Not necessarily. This physician may, from a technical perspective, be a fully qualified and skilled doctor, even if his conduct toward patients is poor. Does consulting such a physician become problematic from the rational-conventional perspective?

On the basis of this critique, we cannot say that taqlid in religious rulings necessarily entails these consequences. That is, we cannot say that these nine matters are necessary implications of taqlid and that therefore taqlid must be abandoned. At most, if we regard all these objections as valid, the conclusion would be that the institution of taqlid in our religious society requires reconsideration. That does not invalidate taqlid itself.

This is the general point.

If we wish to speak in more detail about this issue, then each of these points can be discussed separately. I will now offer a very brief and compressed explanation regarding these nine matters.

The first issue is exclusivism. The answer to this issue is clear for those familiar with juristic discussions. Just as in medicine one may consult different physicians, in the matter of fatwa and marjaʿiyyah one may also consult different jurists. This is the discussion of partial taqlid, or tabʿid in taqlid. In particular, if several jurists each possess superiority in different chapters of fiqh, then in such a case it is necessary to engage in partial taqlid.

For example, one jurist may have worked more extensively on the chapters of worship, while another jurist may have worked more extensively on transactions. There is no problem here. Even today, great jurists such as Ayatullah Shubayri Zanjani, who has spent many years conducting extensive research on the Book of Hajj, do not permit the muqallid to refer to another mujtahid in that area where they consider themselves more learned. But in other chapters, they may permit the follower to refer elsewhere. Therefore, this claim of absolute exclusivism is contrary to reality.

As for the benefits the jurist receives and the wealth he takes, such as religious dues like khums and zakat, while no comparable involvement exists in medicine, this claim is also fundamentally invalid. This is because the collection of religious dues by the jurist has nothing to do with the subject of taqlid itself. These are two separate chapters. There is not even a necessary connection between them.

It is possible for a jurist to be a marjaʿ al-taqlid and issue the fatwa that religious dues and khums must be given to another governing jurist, without himself having any involvement or right of disposal in them. Taqlid means referring to the jurist in order to obtain a fatwa. This has one proof, namely the rational-conventional proof. But whether khums must be paid or not is itself an ijtihadi issue that must be asked about. Then, if khums is obligatory, the question of what it applies to is another ijtihadi issue. And to whom it must be paid is yet another issue.

In any case, taqlid and the questions related to paying religious dues have their own separate and specific evidences. If such dues must be paid to a jurist, it is not because of taqlid, meaning not because of the ignorant referring to the learned. Rather, it is due to other specific proofs.

The third issue is authoritarianism, namely the claim that such authoritarianism does not exist in physicians’ treatment of patients because they allow patients to ask questions and they provide explanations.

It is possible that in fiqh as well, a jurist may allow questioning, welcome it openly, and explain the matter to the muqallid. But in general, there is a difference between medicine and jurisprudence. That difference is that explaining a juristic issue to followers comes with certain difficulties. What the jurist takes as the basis of his fatwa is the proof. For example, he may rule that usury is prohibited on the basis of the noble verse of the Qur’an: “Allah has permitted trade and forbidden usury.” If he is asked for the proof, this verse is the proof.

But sometimes the followers want something beyond the proof. They ask for the cause: why is usury prohibited? What is the cause of the ruling? What is the philosophy of the ruling? What is the wisdom behind the ruling?

In many cases, the questions of followers concern the causes of rulings, and the jurist does not always have full access to the causes of rulings. A jurist can never issue a fatwa without proof, but he may issue a fatwa without knowing the cause. He sees that there is a verse or a reliable narration, while the followers often seek the cause more than the proof. This makes the matter more difficult.

From the jurist’s perspective, the matter may have a devotional aspect, and he may not have obtained sufficient knowledge of its causes. The causes of all rulings have not been explained in the sources. For this reason, there are subtleties in the issue of ijtihad that are not ordinary. It is not an easy or simple matter.

Of course, in other disciplines as well, when specialists provide explanations to clients or ordinary people, those explanations are usually very simplified. They are usually not technical explanations. They clarify the issue for the person only to some degree. In this respect, therefore, there is no real difference between medicine and jurisprudence.

The fourth issue concerns error. If in medicine a person realizes that his physician has made an error, he changes physicians. What about taqlid? Can a follower change his marjaʿ or not?

The answer is that liking or disliking a fatwa is not a valid reason for changing one’s marjaʿ. A person cannot say, “I do not like this fatwa, so I want to change my marjaʿ.” But if a person realizes that there is an error in the process of deduction, then yes, the jurist and mujtahid may be changed.

If a person realizes that the mujtahid from whom he was taking fatwas is no longer the most learned, or that he himself previously made a mistake in identifying him as the most learned, or that this jurist was previously the most learned but today there are other jurists more learned than him, then in such a case it is obligatory and necessary to refer to the most learned and change one’s marjaʿ.

If a person has the ability to recognize that a mujtahid is prone to error, then naturally a mujtahid who makes such errors is not recognized as the most learned. One must refer to the most learned, who is less prone to error. In this respect as well, there is no essential difference, although identifying error in the work of physicians is easier to establish because it is empirical, while identifying error in jurists is more difficult for followers to ascertain.

The fifth issue is contemporaneity and being up to date. The physician uses the latest information, and the jurist too must use the latest information. The difference is that medicine is generally a science shaped by current experience, which is continuously changing and being completed. Jurisprudence, however, requires the ability to refer to earlier sources, namely the Qur’an, hadith, and historical evidence.

For this reason, the physician does not have the same attachment to historical and past dimensions. What he has learned today can form the basis of his medical work. But the jurist cannot ignore this historical background. He must master the earlier sources.

At the same time, since human sciences and knowledge are continually developing, the jurist too must be fully aware of the latest research relevant to the issues involved in his ijtihad. He cannot close his eyes to realities.

The sixth point concerns accountability. Is the jurist accountable like the physician? If the patient has the right to complain, does the muqallid also have the right to complain, or not?

There is a difference between referring to a jurist and referring to a physician. In medicine, a specific person refers to the physician, meaning the patient comes under the physician’s care. The physician examines that person, diagnoses that person’s illness, and prescribes medication for that person.

In the act of issuing fatwa, however, the specific person is not fundamentally involved. The jurist refers to the Qur’an and Sunnah and derives a universal ruling in the form of a real proposition, such as: under what conditions does the traveler’s prayer become shortened? This is stated in general terms. He is not dealing with a particular individual.

Therefore, personal accountability in fatwa does not have the same meaning, such that an individual person may expect personal accountability. Yes, it is deduction from the sources. In deduction from the sources, a universal ruling is extracted. This is ijtihad, and it is also fallible. Regarding this general deduction, the jurist must be accountable. But this general deduction does not place individuals in a position where they can personally interrogate the jurist.

By contrast, patients who refer to a physician do so with respect to their own particular condition and person. The physician has prescribed medicine for this particular individual. There, they can ask: you did not properly diagnose my condition, you were negligent, you did not give me the proper medication, and you made a mistake.

But the jurist is not dealing with someone in that manner. He is dealing with a fatwa derived from general sources. Therefore, the accountability of one who derives universal rules differs in type from the accountability of one who applies rules to concrete instances. The work of the jurist is more like the work of a legal theorist who derives a legal theory or defends a legal rule, while not dealing with any specific person.

The seventh issue is that medicine does not rely upon the famous view, and the physician has the courage to express a new view. This difference also arises from the essential difference between the two sciences, not from the principle of the ignorant referring to the learned.

Every science has its own rules. Astronomy has rules different from those of medicine. Fiqh has rules different from those of astronomy or medicine. Physics has its own rules as well.

When we are dealing with a science that refers to documents and sources related to the past, those documents must naturally be examined. Their reliability must be clarified, and it must be determined how much attention earlier scholars gave to them. This gives rise to the role of the famous view.

At the same time, no jurist can restrict himself entirely to famous opinions. If he does so, ijtihad essentially comes to a halt, and that is contrary to ijtihad. Yes, the fact that some scholars do not go beyond famous views is one matter, while the claim that the nature of fiqh and ijtihad itself requires being restricted to famous views is another matter.

Even if we assume that in fiqh the famous view has probative value, this is simply one of the features of the discipline of fiqh. Every discipline has its own rules, defined within that discipline. Each discipline has particular methods and procedures for solving its problems. It is not necessary at all for different sciences to use one single rule, one single method, or one single approach in resolving scientific questions.

Medicine uses one method and fiqh another. These differences do not undermine the basic validity of knowledge. The opinion of a scholar is not discredited because his discipline uses different accepted methods. His opinion has validity because he adopts and accepts the valid methods of that science, even if those methods differ completely from methods used in other sciences. The method used in historical research is entirely different from the method used in medical research.

The next issue after famous views is dogmatism and probability. In fact, fiqh is a discipline that reaches certainty less often. The kind of fatwas jurists issue are generally based on apparent meanings derived from evidence and are usually at the level of probability and conjecture. Therefore, the path to introducing new possibilities is not closed.

Just as the physician gathers probabilities, evidence, and indicators in order to diagnose an illness, the jurist also works by gathering indicators. The difference is that the jurist gathers his indicators from studied and textual sources in the library, while the physician gathers his indicators clinically from patients.

Thus, in jurisprudence as well, we are not dealing with certainty in most issues. In the overwhelming majority of issues, certainty is not present. The evidence for this is the abundance of disagreement in fatwa from the beginning to the end of fiqh.

The ninth issue is the regulatory institution that exists in medicine. A person who deals with a patient, diagnoses an illness, and then treats it, especially in cases where he directly undertakes treatment such as surgery, performs a kind of work that is completely different from the work of someone who sits in a library, does not face a particular person, and conducts research in scientific sources.

The person who is directly connected with the life of a patient performs an action in which some form of oversight must exist. But the person who conducts library-based research and deals with scientific sources, not with individual persons, does not require a supervisory institution in the same sense.

Yes, if it is determined that someone lacks the qualification for ijtihad and deduction and falsely presents himself as a mujtahid, then action must be taken against him. This issue is also found in juristic sources. But we should not make this issue too easy or overgeneralize it, such that whenever a jurist expresses an opinion, officials immediately come to his house and summon him.

How would the person who wants to judge this matter identify the jurist’s error? This would prevent innovation, creativity, and the expression of new views. Ijtihad would always be placed at risk, and this would harm the growth and development of ijtihad.

The regulatory institution that exists in medicine has a philosophy specific to that discipline. We cannot simply copy it and extend every institution needed in one discipline or field to another discipline or field.

If a person falsely claims expertise in a discipline, he may be dealt with. But if someone is engaged in scholarly and research work within that discipline, expresses views, and does not compel anyone to adopt and act upon his opinion, but merely declares his views, as the jurist does, saying, “Through deduction from the sources, I have reached this conclusion,” then individuals remain free. In such a case, the intervention of others in the matter of ijtihad is dangerous. It is better to avoid such a dangerous path.

We have briefly discussed these nine issues. It seems that this matter requires further reflection and examination. Hopefully, with more opportunity, we will be able to pursue it further.

May Allah bless our master and prophet Muhammad and his pure family.