One of the main things that I learnt over these past two years is the answer to a question which left me speechless on the day of the ifta’ interview: what are your weaknesses?
When Mufti Abdur-Rahman asked me that day I genuinely could not give him an answer, not exactly because my mind went blank (as I had said on that day) but because I had never before been asked to ponder on this. I’ve learnt throughout this entire process how deeply flawed I am, which enables me to reflect on the very objective of this course. I do not think I deeply pondered over the fact that a mufti is not an academic title, but a spiritual and religious one; it reflects a specific status the holder of such a title is expected to conform to. Of course, they are expected to have an academic pedigree but also act with brilliant character and decorum. A mufti is one who holds the trust of the people, and thus, their character must reflect this. As I introspect about this, I attempt to develop myself so that one day I may be worthy of this status.
What made our ifta experience so unique – as opposed to ifta’ programmes elsewhere – is that Mufti Abdur-Rahman had to force us to start reading from secondary Urdu sources for confirmation. For the first few months of our course, our exposure was to the primary Arabic sources alone. We learnt that copying the thoughts of another contemporary mufti would be a backstep to what our real aspirations should be; to be like these muftis. We were told to be critical and analyse the thoughts of secondary sources; to quote someone without examining their evidence could turn out to be a huge mistake when our answers were reviewed.
Principally, the Ifta programme taught us that balance is the essence of good work. We were told to be critical and use the primary sources for our comprehension of an issue. At the same time, our contributions are not to be foolhardy by isolating ourselves from the majority with ‘quirky’ views. We were taught to balance; balance our independent academic research with the needs of the community and the scrutiny of our peers. The spirit of Ifta and fatwa is in this middle ground of representing “orthodoxy” while balancing out these different variables.
I suppose I could have learnt Islam Law at a university somewhere – maybe the middle-east or even at a British university. Though, the benefit that this course is seeing the threads of spirituality deep-rooted into our research. I was told to think originally, analyse arguments and provide critique. The unspoken rules which I learnt in abundance are these meta-ideas about spirituality, community needs and approaching issues with wisdom and foresight.
I close my reflections which another anecdote from the ifta interview. Mufti Abdur-Rahman asked us, “why are you interested in fiqh, is it not just a really dry subject?” This process has taught me that fiqh is anything but dry. The mufti has to grapple with all these competing variables and see the threads to make the response applicable to the questioner’s lived experience. In essence, it is to give life to the law, and a pretty organic process at that.
I had been considering doing an iftā specialization course for several years but was not inclining towards any of the available programs for women. This was because iftā programs for women are generally watered-down versions of the ones offered for men, and even women who excel in them are not authorized to give fatwās. When I heard of the program offered by Whitethread Institute I was sure that it would be different from the others, but online students were not allowed to join the first cohort. Alhamdulillah I was given a chance to join the second cohort, and soon after the program started, I realized that it not only met but surpassed my high expectations; however, it also proved to be more challenging than I had ever imagined.
A major personal challenge for me initially was the adjustment to becoming a student after having been a teacher for many years. The openness of the teachers at Whitethread to discussion and even disagreement meant that I was allowed to ask questions and speak my mind, and it took me a while to realize that this was not a discussion forum, and that I was not the one conducting it! Furthermore, the honest and direct style of the teachers in critiquing my work and my interaction was not one I was accustomed to, and it took a while to understand that none of it was personal but meant solely for my improvement. I also had preconceived notions of what the teachers were like that clouded my perception of their comments, but as I got to understand them better, I was able to shed my misconceptions, and appreciate the sincerity with which the comments were being made.
The time commitment required to stay afloat in the program was a challenge for all students, and the way I managed it personally was largely through advance planning. When I knew I would not be able to make time for the homework during weekdays, I would try to get as much done on the weekend as possible, in order to lighten the daily load during the week. I found out when we would be covering questions on topics that I found difficult (such as buyu’) and tried make as few other commitments for that time as possible. I mostly started preparing for exams weeks in advance, revising a few pages a day so I would not be overburdened with it at the end, or worst, have to attempt the exam unprepared.
The mental pressure of completing the work on time, being alert and attentive throughout the over four hours of classes, always being mindful of the temperaments of the teachers, remembering to make all the suggested changes and improvements, etc. was ever-present and overwhelming at times. However, what helped me personally was reaching out to the teachers whenever I felt in over my head and asking for advice and assistance. Alhamdulillah, I always found the teachers to be considerate and accommodating, and this cooperation kept me from being pushed to the brink on many occasions. I also discovered coping mechanisms and internal strength that I did not realize I had, and am grateful for that life-enhancing discovery.
I can safely say that my two years in the iftā program at Whitethread Institute consisted of not only the most concentrated learning I have ever done in my life, but it was also an opportunity for immense self-growth. While I cannot say that I wish for it all over again (the coping mechanisms have their limits!), I would not have exchanged it with all its ups and downs for anything else. May Allah Kareem reward our teachers and everyone else who allowed us this invaluable opportunity.
For me, the iftā’ program was a very unique experience as well as an enjoyable one. It was a balance between exhaustive hours of research, critical thinking and academic writing. It was also my first time studying whilst juggling other responsibilities, such as teaching. It may have been the most intense two years of my studying life as well as the most beneficial in terms of preparing to deal with the ‘outside world’. The teachers are very encouraging as well as being very critical of the student’s work.
Not a single moment is wasted in this course, the students are constantly pushed to their limits. Approximately 5 questions are given on a daily basis which are to be answered for the next day. Each question can take roughly an hour to answer, but I do remember taking 2-3 hours on a single question sometimes due to the depth of the question. Fiqh really does become your life. I would never have an idle mind, I would constantly be thinking of the given question(s), certain fiqhī texts or other fiqhī matters regardless of where I was. Due to being so indulged, I would sometimes even dream about fiqhī matters. You really begin to get a feel of the lifestyle of the scholars of the past and their love for Islamic knowledge.
After completing my ʿālimiyyah programme I still lacked confidence in dealing with fiqhī issues and were, in a way, shy in dealing with certain chapters of fiqh. This course provided me with a comprehensive understanding of the major chapters of fiqh. Only a few months into the course I felt much more confident in answering questions and being open to fiqhī discussions.
I started the Iftā programme in a class where the remaining students were heading into their second year. Thus, I was tasked with trying to bring myself up to par with my fellow classmates. What helped me with this, and is something which I believe will greatly help all students, is the understanding and mindset that these are likely the last two years of full time studying. Consequently, each student should aim and be as insatiable as they can in acquiring knowledge and benefitting from the teachers as well as the other students.
One thing which I gained great benefit from during my first year is the discussions with the teachers and fellow students. This enabled me to grow in that I understood and consider alternative answers to every question. Furthermore, before being convinced about my own answer, I had to learn to consider all possible objections, as a teacher or student would pick up on it. I did not initially have the confidence order to engage in such discussions. What helped me in this was seeing that as long as an answer was not completely illogical, it would be considered. Each answer would be given its due right. Furthermore, each student is expected to raise any objections they may have to a fellow student’s answer.
Nearing the end of my ʿĀlim class in Blackburn Dār al-ʿUlūm, I knew that I wanted to study formally for at least another year. But, I was not sure what to study. Iftāʾ seemed the best option. However, as I will touch upon later, I had no real idea what doing an Iftāʾ course actually entailed. After consulting with my teachers, speaking with a few friends, and doing istikhārah, I decided to take a leap and apply for the Whitethread Iftāʾ course. I already knew a few students that were studying there and was aware of how intense and rigorous the course was. I can still remember the Zoom interview with Muftī ʾAbdur Raḥmān ṣāḥib. It was a real eye-opener as to the standards Whitethread expected. I was being stopped on every other word in my attempt to translate the Hidāyah’s kitāb al-buyūʿ. After a few lines, I managed to pick up on the manner that Muftī ṣāḥib wanted me to read and translate. I found some comfort when he remarked that I seemed to be a fast learner.
After finding out that I had a place in Whitethread, I had to buy a laptop. A reliable laptop is a must when it comes to Iftāʾ. I stressed a lot in the initial weeks when my laptop started playing up. The teachers helped me out by directing me to a reliable repair shop. And I also learnt the hard way of why it is necessary to always back up all files online and on an external drive as well.
As alluded to above, it became very clear to me within a few weeks, that I had no real idea what doing Iftāʾ actually meant. I had joined thinking that I would brush up on my fiqh, research a few issues and learn how to answer questions. However, day by day, my mind began to widen and accept that doing Iftāʾ is a lifelong effort. “A labour of love.” There was more to it that just copying other scholars. Instead, our teachers wanted us to think for ourselves, research as thoroughly as we could and present our conclusions in the most simple, logical and practical manner.
Looking at my classmates, I really felt out of my depth. Some people could read and speak Arabic better than they could in English, some had already studied abroad for several years and some had university degrees. And then there was me. However, I soon realised that in Iftāʾ, every student is in the same playing field. One’s God-gifted intelligence can only take one so far. Beyond that, it’s about one’s sincerity, dedication and time management. I started looking at my classmates as a blessing. Their diversity became a motivation and opened up the doors to learning so many things that I would have, otherwise, never known. After a long day of class, sitting back and having a laugh with them helped to unwind and relax my mind.
Another blessing that I have had over the two years is being able to attend class on-site every day. Sometimes, it would just be the teachers and I in class. This allowed me to benefit directly from the teachers, especially before and after class. I got to observe the way they would do things, talk to people and deal with difficult situations. Coming on-site ensured that I was on my toes. There was no chance of becoming lazy. I also got the opportunity to serve them such as making their daily cup of coffee. I believe that coming on-site was a big motivational factor for me staying persistent and consistent throughout the two years.
One difficulty that I had was actually partly my own fault. There is no doubt, as even the teachers will agree, that the course was extremely demanding. However, many times I applied extra stress and pressure on myself. It felt like my research and answering questions was being fuelled by wanting to avoid getting told off the next day. The benefit to this though, was that it did prevent me from slacking. As the course progressed, I began to stress less. I tried looking at the research as an adventurous journey that I would enjoy, rather than a burden. It was a matter of me trying my best. And after that, relaxing without worrying too much. If I got the answer wrong in class, it would not be the end of the world. I would note down the problem and try not to make that mistake again.
A standout feature from the two years was the high level of professionalism. The teachers were fair and unbiased. They gave chances to students to prove themselves. Every student had the opportunity to speak their mind as long as they could coherently argue their point well enough. Even when there was a need to critique, rebuke or reprimand, it was clearly done out of care for us. The teachers were transparent with us. They often repeated the motto “Don’t suffer in silence” and lived by this.
At the end of the first year, the teachers were kind enough to pick myself for a scholarship. This gave me great relief and confidence that I was on the right track. However, I also knew how much I had, and still have, to improve.
The Iftāʾ course at Whitethread Institute is so much more than just an Iftāʾ course. I remember once discussing the price of the fees with a classmate. He remarked, “I actually think it’s undercharged.” And I definitely agree as there are so many more additional benefits that I have gained over the two years. For example, free access to different short courses, online discussions with experts in fields like media and biology, witnessing arbitrations, practically going with the teachers to confirm the qiblah direction in the local shopping centre, etc.
To summarise, I am extremely grateful to Allah, my parents and teachers for these two years. I would be lying if I said it was easy. But, it was the intensity that pushed me to grow. It gave me confidence to believe in myself. I improved my Arabic reading, my ability to focus for longer periods, my critical thinking and my English speaking and writing. Throughout the two years, I took part in leading youth events in my area. Studying Iftāʾ gave me the courage and composure to lead a few short courses and deal with many questions that the youth had.
Studying the Iftā’ course at Whitethread Institute was an incredibly inspiring journey. Prior to joining the course, as a graduate of a traditional ‘Alimiyya programme, I felt very strongly the need to be more relevant in serving my community. When a friend suggested that I join Whitethread, I decided to give it a go. I can see now how much it has helped me in achieving this goal of relevance, and I feel very confident when addressing issues that are needed in my community.
Our instructors were greatly supportive throughout this journey. From the very beginning, they had told us to “never suffer in silence”. It meant so much to me. I had a particular problem related to travelling to class to study onsite. I was living outside of London, and commuting every day of the week to the site was getting extremely difficult. It was due to the above statement of my teachers that I plucked up the courage and raised this concern to them. They were very facilitating and provided me with a solution that suited my circumstances.
All in all, I really enjoyed and greatly benefitted from the course. I would recommend it to anyone who has a real zeal for studying. Alhamdulillah, by deciding to study here, I feel I’ve made one of the best choices of my life.
One of the main reasons I had enrolled into the Whitethreadiftā’ program was due to being diagnosed with a chronic liver condition mid-2020 that had me reassessing my life achievements and goals. It was during the initial stages of emotionally settling into an immuno-compromised lifestyle that I had decided I would want to be in a state of continuously teaching and studying the Islamic Sciences or order to be ready for death. I had already been teaching since completing my ʿālimiyya program in 2015, so what remained was to return to studying again.
Before considering the iftā’program, I had hardly given thought to what specialising in Islamic jurisprudence entails; only that I would never study it because of the depth of responsibility it came with, and that it most probably would be an intense program and beyond my capability.
But since I wanted to return to studying continuously, the iftā’program was just one of the many courses I had in mind to study.
My main concern was my health, because dealing with it was still relatively new to me, and the iftā’classes would be at night, when I should have been toning down my mental activity in order to reduce my chronic stress levels and health imbalance. So, while health was a concern, it was in no way an obstacle to overcome; I merely took it as another task of life that needed to be paused and perhaps even discarded whilst iftā’training was in swing. And by the grace of Allāh, the scarred liver remained in remission throughout the entire study period.
Initially when the iftā’classes began, I felt quite intimidated by the number of males in the class. Whilst I had a bit of experience interacting with men – with male teachers as a student, then with male staff members as a teacher, and also with male class fellows when studying the Advanced Tafsir program, I still felt timid and overwhelmed in the first few weeks of iftā’, whilst getting to understand how the discussions worked and what was expected of me. But I overcame that by feigning confidence, regardless of the anxiety or nervousness that I felt. It helped me continue to perform in class, although I felt that my participation was quite minimal. The brain stimulation during class, as well as the anxiety, and the late hour of my day when classes ended, always had me extremely exhausted every day after class. Mufti Mangera had once joked about having dreams about fatwas, which is exactly how it panned out for me; I’d fall asleep straight after class, and then wake up with thoughts of fatwas and the latest class discussions swimming in my mind before my mind even registered the morning. Due to my time differences, I had a winter schedule and a summer schedule for studying at Whitethread; the Winter schedule ended at 10pm every night, and the Summer schedule ended at 12am. Both seasons were equally exhausting, since I don’t usually function as well at night as I do in the morning. I often wondered after intense mashq sessions whether that also played into my performance levels during class; although I was always attentive and my mind was fully awake during the night classes because of the level of interaction required, the pace at which I processed everything may have been slower than how I work and perform during the daytime. I was never able to test this theory though, since I didn’t have any morning iftā’classes to compare my performance to.
I also didn’t always understand – and still don’t at times – the local tapestry of ʿilm that many of my British class fellows referred to during class.
These were a few hiccups I had during iftā’training, some initial and some continuous, which I worked on by continuing to do what was required of me; researching fatwas, presenting them, receiving feedback, and trying to implement the feedback. And by keeping in touch with my female class fellows for support as well as and clarification regarding local British news that came up during class discussions.
But one of my biggest hurdles during iftā’training was answering fatwas, which is the main part of the training. I struggled with nearly every aspect of it – writing the answers in a cohesive way, organising my ideas, and understanding the practicality and context of the fatwas, which would then determine the correctness of the answers. This became even more emphasised in the second year of iftā’, and it seemed that the more I tried, the worse it became. In the second year, I went through phases of trying, and trying more by spending more time on them, then giving up, and then trying again by working very slowly and deliberately, but to no avail. Then I tried different tactics; I read books on writing, I re-read the book ‘On Writing Well’ which we had read in the first year of iftā’and made notes and summaries, I took a short online course on thesis writing, I lengthened my morning walks in an effort to clear my mind, I walked on a different side of the path so that looking at my environment from a different angle would perhaps help open my mind, I took different routes every time when driving to the same destination to stimulate my mind, I read books on the art of clear and logical thinking, I went to a masjid – which is a great transgression in the tablīghī community – to change my atmosphere whilst working on fatwas, I kept changing the locations I worked in, I had my fatwas edited by two friends and then a third for good measure and implemented their feedback, I fixed my eating habits to keep my mind clear and alert, I read books on mindset and resilience, I tried to borrow books on different topics to work on my general knowledge although that practice didn’t last long, I asked every person I met who asked after my studies for their duʿās, I went through a checklist that I had drawn up for what to include and what to exclude in each fatwa, and then I dropped all expectations and left the rest to Allah. Throughout the entire phase of taking the means to improve my fatwa writing, I knew that I wasn’t capable, but I also knew that I would never be the one to give up from myself. But instead, I did desperately wish that Whitethread would dismiss me – numerous times during the first year and then a couple of times in the second year – because I was convinced that the type of work required in iftā’was not my area of strength and was beyond my capability. Then, after taking all the means that occurred to me and letting all expectations go, I slowly began to improve. I can’t pinpoint exactly in what way, but I felt it in my writing, until even my editors had trouble picking out issues with my work. This particular experience re-emphasised my belief in building a strong will and resilient attitude towards achieving life goals.
I had begun the iftā’program with the saying etched in my mind: ‘whoever does not taste the humiliation of seeking knowledge will forever swallow the bitterness of ignorance’, and it remained a slogan I repeated to myself every time I felt that I had failed myself or my teachers. Throughout the study process, I had to recurring battle with the anxiety of participating in class, overthinking past mistakes in an effort to keep from repeating them, and then stressing over future work. It was a constant and even daily obstacle to block and ignore those emotions and actively participate in the class anyway if I wanted to benefit from the program.
Another struggle at the onset of my second year of study was a personal one; I had wished to consider a marriage proposal that my family disapproved of. The reason it was a struggle is because my family and I have always differed on the type of life partner I should settle with, mainly because of my ʿālimiyya training that set my worldview slightly apart from the rest of them. There was many a psychological hurdle that I faced during this time; presenting the proposal to my family instead of the other way round, showing interest in the proposal as a female, attempting to convince the family to consider it, etc. Although it was mentally exhausting, I persisted in my efforts, especially because all previous marriage prospects had always been in vain. But finally, I chose to discard the idea when I realised that the psychological strain would affect my academic performance and distract me from iftā’work. It was an emotionally draining time, where I also unexpectedly faced family disgrace due to it. Although it had been a while ago, the pain of the reaction I received and the derogatory words still resurfaces occasionally. But I tried to – rather needed to – constantly work through the psychological impact it had in order to keep my mind free, calm and receptive to iftā’training. I didn’t see this event as negatively impacting my iftā’performance directly, although it possibly may have. But the experience more so tested my ability to uphold my academic performance amidst emotional upheavals, which Allah allowed me to do successfully.
At the same time, one of the many lessons I took away from this experience was to expand my life vision any time that my personal problems felt overwhelming; if I made my vision even greater, my personal problems became smaller in comparison, and it fuelled my ambition to work harder and further on my ʿilm endeavours. I see it as having been a necessary experience in developing my mind and character, just as I was developing the skills required in iftā’ work.
During the two-year period, I also became acutely aware of a regret and guilt that I’ve carried since my ʿālimiyya days: my inability in fulfilling my parents’ rights as I would have liked to. I’ve always been so engrossed in studying and teaching the Islamic Sciences, and remaining within my circle of ʿulamā’ that I made my family accustomed to my absence, and even more so once I began iftā’training. Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it; sacrificing a familial life to seek knowledge, yet never taking the chance to make up for it because the pursuit of knowledge is never-ending. It remains a weakness that I have yet to overcome.
By the end of the two-year period, I experienced much of what I expected, such as the intensity of the training, the amount of work, the physical and mental exhaustion, the intellectual fulfillment, and the elation of successful research. But I also experienced what I hadn’t expected, such as clarity in future goals regarding ʿilm endeavours, focus on one science of jurisprudence rather than treating it like a course to complete and then continue studying other Islamic Sciences, stronger determination in carrying out the communal services I had in mind from before, and a greater life vision and ambition, which I didn’t think was possible since I had already fine-tuned it from before. Due to the training, I was able to enjoy and facilitate many a juridical discussion with my local ʿālimāt, and build enough authority amongst my peers which will be useful inshāAllāh when I want to elicit communal work from them.
Undergoing the iftā’training has amplified how I view my role and responsibility as anʿālima; I’ve become more confident in understanding the needs of my community, initiating discussions regarding the same with relevant people from ʿulamā’ to laymen, and facilitating and supporting other ʿālimāt in their various communal endeavours. It also reminded me how much I have always enjoyed the thrill of studying, as challenging as it is, and how I would readily sacrifice the rest of my scarring liver to continue my pursuit in leaving a legacy in this line of work.
I had the privilege of knowing and learning from both Mufti Abdur Rahman and Mufti Zubair, the two Whitethreadifta’ teachers prior to enrolling on the course. Thus, I was well aware of their pedagogical style and skill, and so I had no hesitation in joining the course when the opportunity arose. I also knew the exacting standards which were demanded of students, and the vision the teachers had for the course and the students. All these factors made the course an extremely attractive proposition for me, especially as someone who enjoys being challenged academically and intellectually stimulated. And I can confidently say that after completing the two-year programme, I was certainly intellectually engaged by the high-level discussions that were a daily fixture in the ifta’ schedule. Sometimes the conversations would reach such depth and passions that it reminded me of the 40-scholar body of Imam Abu Hanifah!
Having said that, it was also these conversations that provided the biggest challenge of the Iftā’ course. To contribute positively to the discussions, and not just feel like a bystander, one had to be well-prepared. Specifically, prepared with answers for 3-5 questions a day, 5 days a week. I would be lying if I said I loved every day of it. Some days, preparing 3 to 5 questions really did feel like a burden. However, the pressure of having your answers assessed and critiqued daily by the teachers as well as the other students meant there was no chance to slack. And this is the reality of any worthwhile endeavour in which one wants to attain proficiency. One has to keep committed and dedicated, whether rain or shine.
Moreover, the Ifta’ course throws you in at the deep end from the very beginning, and you either learn to swim, or drown. While initially the breadth of sources which one must consult before writing an edict can be quite overwhelming, over time one learns to quickly recognise which sources to consult for which issues, and how to navigate the plethora of sources. One also becomes personally acquainted with the writing style and terminology of the jurists. As a consequence, an ifta’ graduate is well placed to teach any Ḥanafi legal text. This is one of the many corollary benefits that I have attained as a result of the ifta’ course.
I remember when I began the Whitethread Ifta’ course, I envisioned that at the end of two years, I would be confident in answering common questions from across the spectrum of Ḥanafī law, and writing this at the end of two years, I think I have achieved this. What I didn’t envision is that I would leave feeling like I need another decade before I could really master the intricacies of Ḥanafīlaw. I have come away with a real appreciation of the depth and precision of our corpus of law, and a sense of pride that I am being afforded the opportunity to build on this tradition. And this brings me to my next point, which is that the Whitethread Ifta’ course doesn’t just train you to simply become a transmitter of the maddhab, passing down what the earlier jurists have said, but rather it aims to help you think at their level, engage with their ideas critically so as to develop the skills toprovide creative but grounded solutions to up-and-coming issues affecting the Muslim community. This is something that the greats of the Deobandi tradition are well known for.
Now, while wewere prohibited from consulting non-Arabic sources for most questions, there are certain contemporary questions which require one to resort to the works of recent scholars, especially those in urdu. And there is a certain buzz when one can write, in responding to such a question, that Faqīh al-UmmahMuftīMaḥmūdḤasan held this opinion, and Hakīm al-Ummah MawlānāThānwīopined such, and Shaykh al-Islām MuftīTaqīUsmānī adopted this view, but according to my research, the most correct view is the following. This is not to say that one has reached the level of these greats after two years of study, but rather that the Whitethread Ifta’ course teaches you to aspire to reach their level of thought and reasoning.
This brings me to my final point, the Whitethread course, as great as it is, cannot force a student to become a jurist, it simply provides the resources and assistance to tread the path, however, success is just as much dependent on the vigour of the student as it is on the facilities provided by the institute. Thus, my parting advice to any budding student considering the Whitethread ifta’ course is to commit yourself entirely to the process, because as the great Imam Abū Yusuf said, “Knowledge will not give you a part of it until you give it all of yourself”.
When I first applied to the Whitethread iftā’ course, I was required to complete a timed online exam. The exam itself warned me that the course was not for the foolhardy. It had been over ten years since I had studied full-time and although I had engaged in numerous shorter courses over the last decade, no amount of warning could have prepared me for the effort, time and focus that were required for the Whitethread iftā’ course.
With five hours of online attendance daily, it was pretty much half of my daylight hours spent in class. That, coupled with 4 to 5 hours of rigorous fatwā-writing daily, left me with very little time to fulfil the responsibilities of a house-wife and mother. My additional ḥadīth and qirā’ah classes – together with the other community projects which I run – all added up, filling my hours, days and weeks until I started wondering if I could manage it all.
I came close to leaving at least twice during the two years, the first being shortly after I discovered I was expecting again…the difficulty of pregnancy together with the thought of raising a new-born while continuing the iftā’ full-time seemed too much to bear. The second time was a few months after my little one was born: it was a rough transition and at some point I thought I wouldn’t make it. I asked advice from my teachers; and al-ḥamdu lillāh, the nasīḥah and guidance they provided helped me to get through the rest of the time. I also cut back on some of the community projects so that I could free up my weekends to work on fatwās, which was a huge help.
All in all, it was a tough and challenging ride, but to be honest, even knowing how difficult it would be, I would do these two years all over again if I could. However, in retrospect, I would free up more of my time so that I could give the course the full rights that it deserves. The quality of knowledge and experience I gained through this course is something that cannot be verbalized. I definitely have a completely different outlook and understanding of fiqh compared to two years ago, and my ability to grasp the arguments, reasoning and explanations of the jurists has vastly expanded.
One thing which I really appreciated and found special in this course, was the dedication and time given to every single student. Despite there being a reasonable amount of students, no one could ever complain of feeling left out: rather, you would be in trouble for NOT making yourself heard. Never would any student feel ashamed to express differing views, provided they could back it up juristically of course. In fact, sometimes discussions brought up would allow us all to ponder more deeply and research more thoroughly. It reminded me of the words of Shurayḥ Al-Qāḍī, when asked how he had attained his knowledge: ‘through interaction with the ʿulamā’; I took from them and I gave them.’
In conclusion, I would say that this course is every bit worth its name and then some. May Allāh accept the efforts of the teachers, organisers and facilitators; and make it a means of benefit for all. Āmīn.
One of the reasons I wanted to study the Iftā’ program at Whitethread is because of how rigorous the course is in comparison to many others. The high standards and intenseness of the program appealed to me, as I felt that often, the title ‘Mufti’ is given out too easily without the requisite effort, study, and sacrifice being made. After undergoing this program and being able to experience first-hand the high levels of academic study, in-depth research, and sophisticated debates at Whitethread, I can assuredly affirm that the Whitethread approach reflects the necessary hard work and dedication required for a Mufti, as the students will continue to hone their fatwā writing skills under the guidance of the respected teachers even beyond the initial two years of their training.
Without doubt, the program is not for everyone due to its intensive nature. Over the two years many of our fellow classmates left, which may have been demoralising for others, though personally I did not waver or at any point consider leaving, as I had firmly resolved from the outset to see it through to the end. But it is definitely something that requires a long-term commitment and dedication. As is the practice of iftā’ itself, it demands a lifelong commitment. One of the intensive yet distinguishing features here is that the students write five fatwās everyday which are then presented in an open discussion amongst all students and teachers, and are cross examined and critiqued to the finest of details. This refining process really develops the student’s precision in writing and gives them insight into the nuances and subtleties when producing a fatwā.
The program has strengthened my critical thinking skills and has given me confidence in researching any issue by being able to directly consult primary texts from the vast Muslim scholarly tradition and then being able to provide a comprehensive and relevant legal response. It has given me the ability to write responses whilst taking into consideration my context and making sure to fully grasp modern concepts before applying the relevant fiqh onto any given issue. It has also deepened my understanding of fiqh in general, in its breadth and depth, as well as its related sciences and sub-categories.
When I started looking into iftāʾ courses, I came across Whitethread Institute’s Iftāʾ Specialization Program. The name Muftī ʿAbdur-Raḥmān Mangera immediately caught my attention. Having read his books and listened to his lectures for years, the idea of studying under him felt thrilling. What followed were three of the most challenging, exhausting, yet transformative years of my life. Now, as I reflect on my journey at Whitethread, I can say with absolute conviction that every moment, including the sleepless nights, was worth it, alḥamdulillāh.
Learning Experience
I initially enrolled part-time in September 2021, with the goal of completing the course in four years—which I later changed to three years. Classes started at 2:30 AM due to the six-hour time difference with the UK, making the experience all the more intense.
The first period was uṣūl al-iftāʾ with Muftī Zubair. Although I had studied this subject before, Muftī Zubair’s teaching style was unique. One of the things I particularly benefited from was his method of having us memorize and repeat the discussion before beginning each class. This not only reinforced my understanding but also built a solid foundation for the subject. Muftī Ṣāḥib also had us thoroughly go through the texts of every masʾala mentioned which really helped my comprehension of the material.
The next period was dedicated to the furūʿ session. Initially, I assumed it would be similar to how we were taught in madrasa, where we would read the ʿibārat and provide explanations. However, Muftī ʿAbdurraḥmān’s teaching style was refreshingly different. His meticulous attention to detail in translation stood out to me, and it inspired me to adopt a similar approach in my own teaching.
Then came the fatwā or mashq period. As part-time students, we were only required to complete one out of five questions. This came with both advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, it meant less time spent on research outside of class. However, because we focused on just one question, it sometimes took longer to fully grasp the broader discussions, especially when the question was an offshoot of a previous one. The reduced workload also led us to feel obligated to include extra details in our answers—sometimes even addressing points from questions we hadn’t been assigned but the full-timers already had. This occasionally caused inconvenience for the teachers, who had to point out the unnecessary details.
Additionally, since we only tackled one question, we didn’t get as much practice or critique in our responses. At times, we didn’t get a chance to present the one question we had worked on because others had already presented, and the class would move on to the next question. By the end of a year of mashq, I felt that I still had significant room for improvement. But I sensed that the teachers were aware of this and didn’t put too much emphasis on it, knowing that we would revisit and refine our skills in the following years.
Another drawback was that part-time students didn’t take the uṣūl al-fiqh or Ashbāh classes, which made me feel like my answers lacked the “uṣūlī” elements. I noticed that other students included principles (qawāʿid), logic (qiyās), or their own ijtihad in their answers, which strengthened their arguments and gave their responses more depth.
The following year, I decided to enroll full-time, wanting to finish as quickly as possible. Looking back, I’m incredibly thankful for that decision. The transition from part-time to full-time was challenging at first—it meant longer class hours and more time spent on research. I struggled with the mashq in the beginning, especially compared to the other full-timers who had more experience. One of the biggest challenges for me was learning how to be concise and writing clearly without overwhelming the reader.
To improve, I had to invest more time in my work. I dedicated at least five to six hours every day. After teaching, I’d come home around 5 PM, take a nap, and then start working from 7 or 8 PM until class started at 2:30 AM. This became my daily routine. Apa Rahmah and I would review each other’s answers, and my husband also helped me edit them. I also realized that reading the full discussion in Radd al-Muḥtār was far more beneficial. Although lengthy at times, it included all the viewpoints, objections, and generally the summary of the correct answer at the end.
In my third year of iftāʾ, I returned to part-time to complete the second half of the first year. However, even though I was part-time again, I found it equally demanding because this time all the questions were required. While the class hours were two hours shorter than for the full-timers, the workload and time commitment outside of class were nearly the same. Having briefly gone over the discussions two years earlier gave me some familiarity, but naturally, the teachers had higher expectations since it was my third year—and rightfully so. That being said, I still felt that I ended the year needing to continue refining and polishing my answers, knowing there was always room for growth and improvement.
Challenges Throughout the three years of iftāʾ, the biggest challenge for me was managing my schedule. One might think that I would eventually adjust, but I never did. My days and nights completely flipped—staying awake all night and sleeping at 8 AM. I truly understood why Allah (swt) designated the night for rest and the day for work. Daytime sleep never compensated for the lost night’s rest, and it felt even worse in winter when sunset would be around 4 PM. Hardly seeing daylight was quite disheartening.
What made things even more difficult was a spinal disc herniation I suffered just a month after starting iftāʾ in 2021. It left me bedridden for months, unable to walk or move without intense pain. I felt completely helpless and dependent, with little help other than from my husband. Unfortunately, the pain lingered on and off throughout the rest of the course. Alḥamdulillāh, I’m proud to say I didn’t miss a single day of class because of it. The teachers were very understanding and sometimes excused me from presenting, but I still attended every class, lying down much of the time with my books and laptop propped up on my knees. I didn’t want to miss a single day or lose the barakah and continuity of the lessons.
Course Insights
One aspect, that made iftāʾ at Whitethread truly special was the opportunity to participate in the Indian Fiqh Seminars. The topics were contemporary and relevant, and I felt a sense of pride in contributing to the research. These seminars improved our research skills, taught us how to exercise independent reasoning (ijtihād), and showed us how to respectfully hold differing views from other scholars. This emphasis on independent thinking was a key theme throughout the entire course. Before iftāʾ, I wouldn’t have been comfortable forming my own conclusions apart from the scholars’ view, but this course taught me how to do so with both confidence and respect.
I also appreciate the time the teachers dedicated to training us to maintain high-quality work and taking the time to go through all our answers. Today, alḥamdulillāh, when I read fatwās from students of other dār al-iftāʾs, I can see the difference in the standard of work we were taught to uphold.
Overall, I wouldn’t change my decision to complete iftāʾ at Whitethread Institute. Having done both part-time and full-time, I’d recommend the course as full-time to anyone who is prepared for its demands. The quality of teaching and training, while staying rooted in tradition, was exceptional. I appreciated how well the course curriculum was structured, the progression of topics from year to year, and the skills we were able to acquire by the end of the course.
I sincerely pray that Allah (swt) preserves our teachers, grants them Jannat al-Firdaws, and makes us a source of ṣadaqat al-jāriya for them. Āmīn
One of the main things that I learnt over these past two years is the answer to a question which left me speechless on the day of the ifta’ interview: what are your weaknesses?
When Mufti Abdur-Rahman asked me that day I genuinely could not give him an answer, not exactly because my mind went blank (as I had said on that day) but because I had never before been asked to ponder on this. I’ve learnt throughout this entire process how deeply flawed I am, which enables me to reflect on the very objective of this course. I do not think I deeply pondered over the fact that a mufti is not an academic title, but a spiritual and religious one; it reflects a specific status the holder of such a title is expected to conform to. Of course, they are expected to have an academic pedigree but also act with brilliant character and decorum. A mufti is one who holds the trust of the people, and thus, their character must reflect this. As I introspect about this, I attempt to develop myself so that one day I may be worthy of this status.
What made our ifta experience so unique – as opposed to ifta’ programmes elsewhere – is that Mufti Abdur-Rahman had to force us to start reading from secondary Urdu sources for confirmation. For the first few months of our course, our exposure was to the primary Arabic sources alone. We learnt that copying the thoughts of another contemporary mufti would be a backstep to what our real aspirations should be; to be like these muftis. We were told to be critical and analyse the thoughts of secondary sources; to quote someone without examining their evidence could turn out to be a huge mistake when our answers were reviewed.
Principally, the Ifta programme taught us that balance is the essence of good work. We were told to be critical and use the primary sources for our comprehension of an issue. At the same time, our contributions are not to be foolhardy by isolating ourselves from the majority with ‘quirky’ views. We were taught to balance; balance our independent academic research with the needs of the community and the scrutiny of our peers. The spirit of Ifta and fatwa is in this middle ground of representing “orthodoxy” while balancing out these different variables.
I suppose I could have learnt Islam Law at a university somewhere – maybe the middle-east or even at a British university. Though, the benefit that this course is seeing the threads of spirituality deep-rooted into our research. I was told to think originally, analyse arguments and provide critique. The unspoken rules which I learnt in abundance are these meta-ideas about spirituality, community needs and approaching issues with wisdom and foresight.
I close my reflections which another anecdote from the ifta interview. Mufti Abdur-Rahman asked us, “why are you interested in fiqh, is it not just a really dry subject?” This process has taught me that fiqh is anything but dry. The mufti has to grapple with all these competing variables and see the threads to make the response applicable to the questioner’s lived experience. In essence, it is to give life to the law, and a pretty organic process at that.
Ifta’ 2019-2020
I had been considering doing an iftā specialization course for several years but was not inclining towards any of the available programs for women. This was because iftā programs for women are generally watered-down versions of the ones offered for men, and even women who excel in them are not authorized to give fatwās. When I heard of the program offered by Whitethread Institute I was sure that it would be different from the others, but online students were not allowed to join the first cohort. Alhamdulillah I was given a chance to join the second cohort, and soon after the program started, I realized that it not only met but surpassed my high expectations; however, it also proved to be more challenging than I had ever imagined.
A major personal challenge for me initially was the adjustment to becoming a student after having been a teacher for many years. The openness of the teachers at Whitethread to discussion and even disagreement meant that I was allowed to ask questions and speak my mind, and it took me a while to realize that this was not a discussion forum, and that I was not the one conducting it! Furthermore, the honest and direct style of the teachers in critiquing my work and my interaction was not one I was accustomed to, and it took a while to understand that none of it was personal but meant solely for my improvement. I also had preconceived notions of what the teachers were like that clouded my perception of their comments, but as I got to understand them better, I was able to shed my misconceptions, and appreciate the sincerity with which the comments were being made.
The time commitment required to stay afloat in the program was a challenge for all students, and the way I managed it personally was largely through advance planning. When I knew I would not be able to make time for the homework during weekdays, I would try to get as much done on the weekend as possible, in order to lighten the daily load during the week. I found out when we would be covering questions on topics that I found difficult (such as buyu’) and tried make as few other commitments for that time as possible. I mostly started preparing for exams weeks in advance, revising a few pages a day so I would not be overburdened with it at the end, or worst, have to attempt the exam unprepared.
The mental pressure of completing the work on time, being alert and attentive throughout the over four hours of classes, always being mindful of the temperaments of the teachers, remembering to make all the suggested changes and improvements, etc. was ever-present and overwhelming at times. However, what helped me personally was reaching out to the teachers whenever I felt in over my head and asking for advice and assistance. Alhamdulillah, I always found the teachers to be considerate and accommodating, and this cooperation kept me from being pushed to the brink on many occasions. I also discovered coping mechanisms and internal strength that I did not realize I had, and am grateful for that life-enhancing discovery.
I can safely say that my two years in the iftā program at Whitethread Institute consisted of not only the most concentrated learning I have ever done in my life, but it was also an opportunity for immense self-growth. While I cannot say that I wish for it all over again (the coping mechanisms have their limits!), I would not have exchanged it with all its ups and downs for anything else. May Allah Kareem reward our teachers and everyone else who allowed us this invaluable opportunity.
For me, the iftā’ program was a very unique experience as well as an enjoyable one. It was a balance between exhaustive hours of research, critical thinking and academic writing. It was also my first time studying whilst juggling other responsibilities, such as teaching. It may have been the most intense two years of my studying life as well as the most beneficial in terms of preparing to deal with the ‘outside world’. The teachers are very encouraging as well as being very critical of the student’s work.
Not a single moment is wasted in this course, the students are constantly pushed to their limits. Approximately 5 questions are given on a daily basis which are to be answered for the next day. Each question can take roughly an hour to answer, but I do remember taking 2-3 hours on a single question sometimes due to the depth of the question. Fiqh really does become your life. I would never have an idle mind, I would constantly be thinking of the given question(s), certain fiqhī texts or other fiqhī matters regardless of where I was. Due to being so indulged, I would sometimes even dream about fiqhī matters. You really begin to get a feel of the lifestyle of the scholars of the past and their love for Islamic knowledge.
After completing my ʿālimiyyah programme I still lacked confidence in dealing with fiqhī issues and were, in a way, shy in dealing with certain chapters of fiqh. This course provided me with a comprehensive understanding of the major chapters of fiqh. Only a few months into the course I felt much more confident in answering questions and being open to fiqhī discussions.
I started the Iftā programme in a class where the remaining students were heading into their second year. Thus, I was tasked with trying to bring myself up to par with my fellow classmates. What helped me with this, and is something which I believe will greatly help all students, is the understanding and mindset that these are likely the last two years of full time studying. Consequently, each student should aim and be as insatiable as they can in acquiring knowledge and benefitting from the teachers as well as the other students.
One thing which I gained great benefit from during my first year is the discussions with the teachers and fellow students. This enabled me to grow in that I understood and consider alternative answers to every question. Furthermore, before being convinced about my own answer, I had to learn to consider all possible objections, as a teacher or student would pick up on it. I did not initially have the confidence order to engage in such discussions. What helped me in this was seeing that as long as an answer was not completely illogical, it would be considered. Each answer would be given its due right. Furthermore, each student is expected to raise any objections they may have to a fellow student’s answer.
Nearing the end of my ʿĀlim class in Blackburn Dār al-ʿUlūm, I knew that I wanted to study formally for at least another year. But, I was not sure what to study. Iftāʾ seemed the best option. However, as I will touch upon later, I had no real idea what doing an Iftāʾ course actually entailed. After consulting with my teachers, speaking with a few friends, and doing istikhārah, I decided to take a leap and apply for the Whitethread Iftāʾ course. I already knew a few students that were studying there and was aware of how intense and rigorous the course was. I can still remember the Zoom interview with Muftī ʾAbdur Raḥmān ṣāḥib. It was a real eye-opener as to the standards Whitethread expected. I was being stopped on every other word in my attempt to translate the Hidāyah’s kitāb al-buyūʿ. After a few lines, I managed to pick up on the manner that Muftī ṣāḥib wanted me to read and translate. I found some comfort when he remarked that I seemed to be a fast learner.
After finding out that I had a place in Whitethread, I had to buy a laptop. A reliable laptop is a must when it comes to Iftāʾ. I stressed a lot in the initial weeks when my laptop started playing up. The teachers helped me out by directing me to a reliable repair shop. And I also learnt the hard way of why it is necessary to always back up all files online and on an external drive as well.
As alluded to above, it became very clear to me within a few weeks, that I had no real idea what doing Iftāʾ actually meant. I had joined thinking that I would brush up on my fiqh, research a few issues and learn how to answer questions. However, day by day, my mind began to widen and accept that doing Iftāʾ is a lifelong effort. “A labour of love.” There was more to it that just copying other scholars. Instead, our teachers wanted us to think for ourselves, research as thoroughly as we could and present our conclusions in the most simple, logical and practical manner.
Looking at my classmates, I really felt out of my depth. Some people could read and speak Arabic better than they could in English, some had already studied abroad for several years and some had university degrees. And then there was me. However, I soon realised that in Iftāʾ, every student is in the same playing field. One’s God-gifted intelligence can only take one so far. Beyond that, it’s about one’s sincerity, dedication and time management. I started looking at my classmates as a blessing. Their diversity became a motivation and opened up the doors to learning so many things that I would have, otherwise, never known. After a long day of class, sitting back and having a laugh with them helped to unwind and relax my mind.
Another blessing that I have had over the two years is being able to attend class on-site every day. Sometimes, it would just be the teachers and I in class. This allowed me to benefit directly from the teachers, especially before and after class. I got to observe the way they would do things, talk to people and deal with difficult situations. Coming on-site ensured that I was on my toes. There was no chance of becoming lazy. I also got the opportunity to serve them such as making their daily cup of coffee. I believe that coming on-site was a big motivational factor for me staying persistent and consistent throughout the two years.
One difficulty that I had was actually partly my own fault. There is no doubt, as even the teachers will agree, that the course was extremely demanding. However, many times I applied extra stress and pressure on myself. It felt like my research and answering questions was being fuelled by wanting to avoid getting told off the next day. The benefit to this though, was that it did prevent me from slacking. As the course progressed, I began to stress less. I tried looking at the research as an adventurous journey that I would enjoy, rather than a burden. It was a matter of me trying my best. And after that, relaxing without worrying too much. If I got the answer wrong in class, it would not be the end of the world. I would note down the problem and try not to make that mistake again.
A standout feature from the two years was the high level of professionalism. The teachers were fair and unbiased. They gave chances to students to prove themselves. Every student had the opportunity to speak their mind as long as they could coherently argue their point well enough. Even when there was a need to critique, rebuke or reprimand, it was clearly done out of care for us. The teachers were transparent with us. They often repeated the motto “Don’t suffer in silence” and lived by this.
At the end of the first year, the teachers were kind enough to pick myself for a scholarship. This gave me great relief and confidence that I was on the right track. However, I also knew how much I had, and still have, to improve.
The Iftāʾ course at Whitethread Institute is so much more than just an Iftāʾ course. I remember once discussing the price of the fees with a classmate. He remarked, “I actually think it’s undercharged.” And I definitely agree as there are so many more additional benefits that I have gained over the two years. For example, free access to different short courses, online discussions with experts in fields like media and biology, witnessing arbitrations, practically going with the teachers to confirm the qiblah direction in the local shopping centre, etc.
To summarise, I am extremely grateful to Allah, my parents and teachers for these two years. I would be lying if I said it was easy. But, it was the intensity that pushed me to grow. It gave me confidence to believe in myself. I improved my Arabic reading, my ability to focus for longer periods, my critical thinking and my English speaking and writing. Throughout the two years, I took part in leading youth events in my area. Studying Iftāʾ gave me the courage and composure to lead a few short courses and deal with many questions that the youth had.
Studying the Iftā’ course at Whitethread Institute was an incredibly inspiring journey. Prior to joining the course, as a graduate of a traditional ‘Alimiyya programme, I felt very strongly the need to be more relevant in serving my community. When a friend suggested that I join Whitethread, I decided to give it a go. I can see now how much it has helped me in achieving this goal of relevance, and I feel very confident when addressing issues that are needed in my community.
Our instructors were greatly supportive throughout this journey. From the very beginning, they had told us to “never suffer in silence”. It meant so much to me. I had a particular problem related to travelling to class to study onsite. I was living outside of London, and commuting every day of the week to the site was getting extremely difficult. It was due to the above statement of my teachers that I plucked up the courage and raised this concern to them. They were very facilitating and provided me with a solution that suited my circumstances.
All in all, I really enjoyed and greatly benefitted from the course. I would recommend it to anyone who has a real zeal for studying. Alhamdulillah, by deciding to study here, I feel I’ve made one of the best choices of my life.
One of the main reasons I had enrolled into the Whitethreadiftā’ program was due to being diagnosed with a chronic liver condition mid-2020 that had me reassessing my life achievements and goals. It was during the initial stages of emotionally settling into an immuno-compromised lifestyle that I had decided I would want to be in a state of continuously teaching and studying the Islamic Sciences or order to be ready for death. I had already been teaching since completing my ʿālimiyya program in 2015, so what remained was to return to studying again.
Before considering the iftā’program, I had hardly given thought to what specialising in Islamic jurisprudence entails; only that I would never study it because of the depth of responsibility it came with, and that it most probably would be an intense program and beyond my capability.
But since I wanted to return to studying continuously, the iftā’program was just one of the many courses I had in mind to study.
My main concern was my health, because dealing with it was still relatively new to me, and the iftā’classes would be at night, when I should have been toning down my mental activity in order to reduce my chronic stress levels and health imbalance. So, while health was a concern, it was in no way an obstacle to overcome; I merely took it as another task of life that needed to be paused and perhaps even discarded whilst iftā’training was in swing. And by the grace of Allāh, the scarred liver remained in remission throughout the entire study period.
Initially when the iftā’classes began, I felt quite intimidated by the number of males in the class. Whilst I had a bit of experience interacting with men – with male teachers as a student, then with male staff members as a teacher, and also with male class fellows when studying the Advanced Tafsir program, I still felt timid and overwhelmed in the first few weeks of iftā’, whilst getting to understand how the discussions worked and what was expected of me. But I overcame that by feigning confidence, regardless of the anxiety or nervousness that I felt. It helped me continue to perform in class, although I felt that my participation was quite minimal. The brain stimulation during class, as well as the anxiety, and the late hour of my day when classes ended, always had me extremely exhausted every day after class. Mufti Mangera had once joked about having dreams about fatwas, which is exactly how it panned out for me; I’d fall asleep straight after class, and then wake up with thoughts of fatwas and the latest class discussions swimming in my mind before my mind even registered the morning. Due to my time differences, I had a winter schedule and a summer schedule for studying at Whitethread; the Winter schedule ended at 10pm every night, and the Summer schedule ended at 12am. Both seasons were equally exhausting, since I don’t usually function as well at night as I do in the morning. I often wondered after intense mashq sessions whether that also played into my performance levels during class; although I was always attentive and my mind was fully awake during the night classes because of the level of interaction required, the pace at which I processed everything may have been slower than how I work and perform during the daytime. I was never able to test this theory though, since I didn’t have any morning iftā’classes to compare my performance to.
I also didn’t always understand – and still don’t at times – the local tapestry of ʿilm that many of my British class fellows referred to during class.
These were a few hiccups I had during iftā’training, some initial and some continuous, which I worked on by continuing to do what was required of me; researching fatwas, presenting them, receiving feedback, and trying to implement the feedback. And by keeping in touch with my female class fellows for support as well as and clarification regarding local British news that came up during class discussions.
But one of my biggest hurdles during iftā’training was answering fatwas, which is the main part of the training. I struggled with nearly every aspect of it – writing the answers in a cohesive way, organising my ideas, and understanding the practicality and context of the fatwas, which would then determine the correctness of the answers. This became even more emphasised in the second year of iftā’, and it seemed that the more I tried, the worse it became. In the second year, I went through phases of trying, and trying more by spending more time on them, then giving up, and then trying again by working very slowly and deliberately, but to no avail. Then I tried different tactics; I read books on writing, I re-read the book ‘On Writing Well’ which we had read in the first year of iftā’and made notes and summaries, I took a short online course on thesis writing, I lengthened my morning walks in an effort to clear my mind, I walked on a different side of the path so that looking at my environment from a different angle would perhaps help open my mind, I took different routes every time when driving to the same destination to stimulate my mind, I read books on the art of clear and logical thinking, I went to a masjid – which is a great transgression in the tablīghī community – to change my atmosphere whilst working on fatwas, I kept changing the locations I worked in, I had my fatwas edited by two friends and then a third for good measure and implemented their feedback, I fixed my eating habits to keep my mind clear and alert, I read books on mindset and resilience, I tried to borrow books on different topics to work on my general knowledge although that practice didn’t last long, I asked every person I met who asked after my studies for their duʿās, I went through a checklist that I had drawn up for what to include and what to exclude in each fatwa, and then I dropped all expectations and left the rest to Allah. Throughout the entire phase of taking the means to improve my fatwa writing, I knew that I wasn’t capable, but I also knew that I would never be the one to give up from myself. But instead, I did desperately wish that Whitethread would dismiss me – numerous times during the first year and then a couple of times in the second year – because I was convinced that the type of work required in iftā’was not my area of strength and was beyond my capability. Then, after taking all the means that occurred to me and letting all expectations go, I slowly began to improve. I can’t pinpoint exactly in what way, but I felt it in my writing, until even my editors had trouble picking out issues with my work. This particular experience re-emphasised my belief in building a strong will and resilient attitude towards achieving life goals.
I had begun the iftā’program with the saying etched in my mind: ‘whoever does not taste the humiliation of seeking knowledge will forever swallow the bitterness of ignorance’, and it remained a slogan I repeated to myself every time I felt that I had failed myself or my teachers. Throughout the study process, I had to recurring battle with the anxiety of participating in class, overthinking past mistakes in an effort to keep from repeating them, and then stressing over future work. It was a constant and even daily obstacle to block and ignore those emotions and actively participate in the class anyway if I wanted to benefit from the program.
Another struggle at the onset of my second year of study was a personal one; I had wished to consider a marriage proposal that my family disapproved of. The reason it was a struggle is because my family and I have always differed on the type of life partner I should settle with, mainly because of my ʿālimiyya training that set my worldview slightly apart from the rest of them. There was many a psychological hurdle that I faced during this time; presenting the proposal to my family instead of the other way round, showing interest in the proposal as a female, attempting to convince the family to consider it, etc. Although it was mentally exhausting, I persisted in my efforts, especially because all previous marriage prospects had always been in vain. But finally, I chose to discard the idea when I realised that the psychological strain would affect my academic performance and distract me from iftā’work. It was an emotionally draining time, where I also unexpectedly faced family disgrace due to it. Although it had been a while ago, the pain of the reaction I received and the derogatory words still resurfaces occasionally. But I tried to – rather needed to – constantly work through the psychological impact it had in order to keep my mind free, calm and receptive to iftā’training. I didn’t see this event as negatively impacting my iftā’performance directly, although it possibly may have. But the experience more so tested my ability to uphold my academic performance amidst emotional upheavals, which Allah allowed me to do successfully.
At the same time, one of the many lessons I took away from this experience was to expand my life vision any time that my personal problems felt overwhelming; if I made my vision even greater, my personal problems became smaller in comparison, and it fuelled my ambition to work harder and further on my ʿilm endeavours. I see it as having been a necessary experience in developing my mind and character, just as I was developing the skills required in iftā’ work.
During the two-year period, I also became acutely aware of a regret and guilt that I’ve carried since my ʿālimiyya days: my inability in fulfilling my parents’ rights as I would have liked to. I’ve always been so engrossed in studying and teaching the Islamic Sciences, and remaining within my circle of ʿulamā’ that I made my family accustomed to my absence, and even more so once I began iftā’training. Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it; sacrificing a familial life to seek knowledge, yet never taking the chance to make up for it because the pursuit of knowledge is never-ending. It remains a weakness that I have yet to overcome.
By the end of the two-year period, I experienced much of what I expected, such as the intensity of the training, the amount of work, the physical and mental exhaustion, the intellectual fulfillment, and the elation of successful research. But I also experienced what I hadn’t expected, such as clarity in future goals regarding ʿilm endeavours, focus on one science of jurisprudence rather than treating it like a course to complete and then continue studying other Islamic Sciences, stronger determination in carrying out the communal services I had in mind from before, and a greater life vision and ambition, which I didn’t think was possible since I had already fine-tuned it from before. Due to the training, I was able to enjoy and facilitate many a juridical discussion with my local ʿālimāt, and build enough authority amongst my peers which will be useful inshāAllāh when I want to elicit communal work from them.
Undergoing the iftā’training has amplified how I view my role and responsibility as anʿālima; I’ve become more confident in understanding the needs of my community, initiating discussions regarding the same with relevant people from ʿulamā’ to laymen, and facilitating and supporting other ʿālimāt in their various communal endeavours. It also reminded me how much I have always enjoyed the thrill of studying, as challenging as it is, and how I would readily sacrifice the rest of my scarring liver to continue my pursuit in leaving a legacy in this line of work.
I had the privilege of knowing and learning from both Mufti Abdur Rahman and Mufti Zubair, the two Whitethreadifta’ teachers prior to enrolling on the course. Thus, I was well aware of their pedagogical style and skill, and so I had no hesitation in joining the course when the opportunity arose. I also knew the exacting standards which were demanded of students, and the vision the teachers had for the course and the students. All these factors made the course an extremely attractive proposition for me, especially as someone who enjoys being challenged academically and intellectually stimulated. And I can confidently say that after completing the two-year programme, I was certainly intellectually engaged by the high-level discussions that were a daily fixture in the ifta’ schedule. Sometimes the conversations would reach such depth and passions that it reminded me of the 40-scholar body of Imam Abu Hanifah!
Having said that, it was also these conversations that provided the biggest challenge of the Iftā’ course. To contribute positively to the discussions, and not just feel like a bystander, one had to be well-prepared. Specifically, prepared with answers for 3-5 questions a day, 5 days a week. I would be lying if I said I loved every day of it. Some days, preparing 3 to 5 questions really did feel like a burden. However, the pressure of having your answers assessed and critiqued daily by the teachers as well as the other students meant there was no chance to slack. And this is the reality of any worthwhile endeavour in which one wants to attain proficiency. One has to keep committed and dedicated, whether rain or shine.
Moreover, the Ifta’ course throws you in at the deep end from the very beginning, and you either learn to swim, or drown. While initially the breadth of sources which one must consult before writing an edict can be quite overwhelming, over time one learns to quickly recognise which sources to consult for which issues, and how to navigate the plethora of sources. One also becomes personally acquainted with the writing style and terminology of the jurists. As a consequence, an ifta’ graduate is well placed to teach any Ḥanafi legal text. This is one of the many corollary benefits that I have attained as a result of the ifta’ course.
I remember when I began the Whitethread Ifta’ course, I envisioned that at the end of two years, I would be confident in answering common questions from across the spectrum of Ḥanafī law, and writing this at the end of two years, I think I have achieved this. What I didn’t envision is that I would leave feeling like I need another decade before I could really master the intricacies of Ḥanafīlaw. I have come away with a real appreciation of the depth and precision of our corpus of law, and a sense of pride that I am being afforded the opportunity to build on this tradition. And this brings me to my next point, which is that the Whitethread Ifta’ course doesn’t just train you to simply become a transmitter of the maddhab, passing down what the earlier jurists have said, but rather it aims to help you think at their level, engage with their ideas critically so as to develop the skills toprovide creative but grounded solutions to up-and-coming issues affecting the Muslim community. This is something that the greats of the Deobandi tradition are well known for.
Now, while wewere prohibited from consulting non-Arabic sources for most questions, there are certain contemporary questions which require one to resort to the works of recent scholars, especially those in urdu. And there is a certain buzz when one can write, in responding to such a question, that Faqīh al-UmmahMuftīMaḥmūdḤasan held this opinion, and Hakīm al-Ummah MawlānāThānwīopined such, and Shaykh al-Islām MuftīTaqīUsmānī adopted this view, but according to my research, the most correct view is the following. This is not to say that one has reached the level of these greats after two years of study, but rather that the Whitethread Ifta’ course teaches you to aspire to reach their level of thought and reasoning.
This brings me to my final point, the Whitethread course, as great as it is, cannot force a student to become a jurist, it simply provides the resources and assistance to tread the path, however, success is just as much dependent on the vigour of the student as it is on the facilities provided by the institute. Thus, my parting advice to any budding student considering the Whitethread ifta’ course is to commit yourself entirely to the process, because as the great Imam Abū Yusuf said, “Knowledge will not give you a part of it until you give it all of yourself”.
When I first applied to the Whitethread iftā’ course, I was required to complete a timed online exam. The exam itself warned me that the course was not for the foolhardy. It had been over ten years since I had studied full-time and although I had engaged in numerous shorter courses over the last decade, no amount of warning could have prepared me for the effort, time and focus that were required for the Whitethread iftā’ course.
With five hours of online attendance daily, it was pretty much half of my daylight hours spent in class. That, coupled with 4 to 5 hours of rigorous fatwā-writing daily, left me with very little time to fulfil the responsibilities of a house-wife and mother. My additional ḥadīth and qirā’ah classes – together with the other community projects which I run – all added up, filling my hours, days and weeks until I started wondering if I could manage it all.
I came close to leaving at least twice during the two years, the first being shortly after I discovered I was expecting again…the difficulty of pregnancy together with the thought of raising a new-born while continuing the iftā’ full-time seemed too much to bear. The second time was a few months after my little one was born: it was a rough transition and at some point I thought I wouldn’t make it. I asked advice from my teachers; and al-ḥamdu lillāh, the nasīḥah and guidance they provided helped me to get through the rest of the time. I also cut back on some of the community projects so that I could free up my weekends to work on fatwās, which was a huge help.
All in all, it was a tough and challenging ride, but to be honest, even knowing how difficult it would be, I would do these two years all over again if I could. However, in retrospect, I would free up more of my time so that I could give the course the full rights that it deserves. The quality of knowledge and experience I gained through this course is something that cannot be verbalized. I definitely have a completely different outlook and understanding of fiqh compared to two years ago, and my ability to grasp the arguments, reasoning and explanations of the jurists has vastly expanded.
One thing which I really appreciated and found special in this course, was the dedication and time given to every single student. Despite there being a reasonable amount of students, no one could ever complain of feeling left out: rather, you would be in trouble for NOT making yourself heard. Never would any student feel ashamed to express differing views, provided they could back it up juristically of course. In fact, sometimes discussions brought up would allow us all to ponder more deeply and research more thoroughly. It reminded me of the words of Shurayḥ Al-Qāḍī, when asked how he had attained his knowledge: ‘through interaction with the ʿulamā’; I took from them and I gave them.’
In conclusion, I would say that this course is every bit worth its name and then some. May Allāh accept the efforts of the teachers, organisers and facilitators; and make it a means of benefit for all. Āmīn.
One of the reasons I wanted to study the Iftā’ program at Whitethread is because of how rigorous the course is in comparison to many others. The high standards and intenseness of the program appealed to me, as I felt that often, the title ‘Mufti’ is given out too easily without the requisite effort, study, and sacrifice being made. After undergoing this program and being able to experience first-hand the high levels of academic study, in-depth research, and sophisticated debates at Whitethread, I can assuredly affirm that the Whitethread approach reflects the necessary hard work and dedication required for a Mufti, as the students will continue to hone their fatwā writing skills under the guidance of the respected teachers even beyond the initial two years of their training.
Without doubt, the program is not for everyone due to its intensive nature. Over the two years many of our fellow classmates left, which may have been demoralising for others, though personally I did not waver or at any point consider leaving, as I had firmly resolved from the outset to see it through to the end. But it is definitely something that requires a long-term commitment and dedication. As is the practice of iftā’ itself, it demands a lifelong commitment. One of the intensive yet distinguishing features here is that the students write five fatwās everyday which are then presented in an open discussion amongst all students and teachers, and are cross examined and critiqued to the finest of details. This refining process really develops the student’s precision in writing and gives them insight into the nuances and subtleties when producing a fatwā.
The program has strengthened my critical thinking skills and has given me confidence in researching any issue by being able to directly consult primary texts from the vast Muslim scholarly tradition and then being able to provide a comprehensive and relevant legal response. It has given me the ability to write responses whilst taking into consideration my context and making sure to fully grasp modern concepts before applying the relevant fiqh onto any given issue. It has also deepened my understanding of fiqh in general, in its breadth and depth, as well as its related sciences and sub-categories.
When I started looking into iftāʾ courses, I came across Whitethread Institute’s Iftāʾ Specialization Program. The name Muftī ʿAbdur-Raḥmān Mangera immediately caught my attention. Having read his books and listened to his lectures for years, the idea of studying under him felt thrilling. What followed were three of the most challenging, exhausting, yet transformative years of my life. Now, as I reflect on my journey at Whitethread, I can say with absolute conviction that every moment, including the sleepless nights, was worth it, alḥamdulillāh.
Learning Experience
I initially enrolled part-time in September 2021, with the goal of completing the course in four years—which I later changed to three years. Classes started at 2:30 AM due to the six-hour time difference with the UK, making the experience all the more intense.
The first period was uṣūl al-iftāʾ with Muftī Zubair. Although I had studied this subject before, Muftī Zubair’s teaching style was unique. One of the things I particularly benefited from was his method of having us memorize and repeat the discussion before beginning each class. This not only reinforced my understanding but also built a solid foundation for the subject. Muftī Ṣāḥib also had us thoroughly go through the texts of every masʾala mentioned which really helped my comprehension of the material.
The next period was dedicated to the furūʿ session. Initially, I assumed it would be similar to how we were taught in madrasa, where we would read the ʿibārat and provide explanations. However, Muftī ʿAbdurraḥmān’s teaching style was refreshingly different. His meticulous attention to detail in translation stood out to me, and it inspired me to adopt a similar approach in my own teaching.
Then came the fatwā or mashq period. As part-time students, we were only required to complete one out of five questions. This came with both advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, it meant less time spent on research outside of class. However, because we focused on just one question, it sometimes took longer to fully grasp the broader discussions, especially when the question was an offshoot of a previous one. The reduced workload also led us to feel obligated to include extra details in our answers—sometimes even addressing points from questions we hadn’t been assigned but the full-timers already had. This occasionally caused inconvenience for the teachers, who had to point out the unnecessary details.
Additionally, since we only tackled one question, we didn’t get as much practice or critique in our responses. At times, we didn’t get a chance to present the one question we had worked on because others had already presented, and the class would move on to the next question. By the end of a year of mashq, I felt that I still had significant room for improvement. But I sensed that the teachers were aware of this and didn’t put too much emphasis on it, knowing that we would revisit and refine our skills in the following years.
Another drawback was that part-time students didn’t take the uṣūl al-fiqh or Ashbāh classes, which made me feel like my answers lacked the “uṣūlī” elements. I noticed that other students included principles (qawāʿid), logic (qiyās), or their own ijtihad in their answers, which strengthened their arguments and gave their responses more depth.
The following year, I decided to enroll full-time, wanting to finish as quickly as possible. Looking back, I’m incredibly thankful for that decision. The transition from part-time to full-time was challenging at first—it meant longer class hours and more time spent on research. I struggled with the mashq in the beginning, especially compared to the other full-timers who had more experience. One of the biggest challenges for me was learning how to be concise and writing clearly without overwhelming the reader.
To improve, I had to invest more time in my work. I dedicated at least five to six hours every day. After teaching, I’d come home around 5 PM, take a nap, and then start working from 7 or 8 PM until class started at 2:30 AM. This became my daily routine. Apa Rahmah and I would review each other’s answers, and my husband also helped me edit them. I also realized that reading the full discussion in Radd al-Muḥtār was far more beneficial. Although lengthy at times, it included all the viewpoints, objections, and generally the summary of the correct answer at the end.
In my third year of iftāʾ, I returned to part-time to complete the second half of the first year. However, even though I was part-time again, I found it equally demanding because this time all the questions were required. While the class hours were two hours shorter than for the full-timers, the workload and time commitment outside of class were nearly the same. Having briefly gone over the discussions two years earlier gave me some familiarity, but naturally, the teachers had higher expectations since it was my third year—and rightfully so. That being said, I still felt that I ended the year needing to continue refining and polishing my answers, knowing there was always room for growth and improvement.
Challenges Throughout the three years of iftāʾ, the biggest challenge for me was managing my schedule. One might think that I would eventually adjust, but I never did. My days and nights completely flipped—staying awake all night and sleeping at 8 AM. I truly understood why Allah (swt) designated the night for rest and the day for work. Daytime sleep never compensated for the lost night’s rest, and it felt even worse in winter when sunset would be around 4 PM. Hardly seeing daylight was quite disheartening.
What made things even more difficult was a spinal disc herniation I suffered just a month after starting iftāʾ in 2021. It left me bedridden for months, unable to walk or move without intense pain. I felt completely helpless and dependent, with little help other than from my husband. Unfortunately, the pain lingered on and off throughout the rest of the course. Alḥamdulillāh, I’m proud to say I didn’t miss a single day of class because of it. The teachers were very understanding and sometimes excused me from presenting, but I still attended every class, lying down much of the time with my books and laptop propped up on my knees. I didn’t want to miss a single day or lose the barakah and continuity of the lessons.
Course Insights
One aspect, that made iftāʾ at Whitethread truly special was the opportunity to participate in the Indian Fiqh Seminars. The topics were contemporary and relevant, and I felt a sense of pride in contributing to the research. These seminars improved our research skills, taught us how to exercise independent reasoning (ijtihād), and showed us how to respectfully hold differing views from other scholars. This emphasis on independent thinking was a key theme throughout the entire course. Before iftāʾ, I wouldn’t have been comfortable forming my own conclusions apart from the scholars’ view, but this course taught me how to do so with both confidence and respect.
I also appreciate the time the teachers dedicated to training us to maintain high-quality work and taking the time to go through all our answers. Today, alḥamdulillāh, when I read fatwās from students of other dār al-iftāʾs, I can see the difference in the standard of work we were taught to uphold.
Overall, I wouldn’t change my decision to complete iftāʾ at Whitethread Institute. Having done both part-time and full-time, I’d recommend the course as full-time to anyone who is prepared for its demands. The quality of teaching and training, while staying rooted in tradition, was exceptional. I appreciated how well the course curriculum was structured, the progression of topics from year to year, and the skills we were able to acquire by the end of the course.
I sincerely pray that Allah (swt) preserves our teachers, grants them Jannat al-Firdaws, and makes us a source of ṣadaqat al-jāriya for them. Āmīn