
Syed Zahid Hussain
A short viral video from a Physics Wala event in Anantnag , showing a minor girl whose gesture was seized upon, widely circulated and lambasted online, reopened an old fault line in Kashmiri public life: who has the right to judge, name and shame, and in whose name?
In contemporary Kashmir, some clerics have turned mosque pulpits into stages for moral performance, publicly shaming women or minors under the guise of defending religion. Their sermons often aim less at genuine guidance than at attracting social media attention, gaining approval among male audiences, or boosting personal prestige.
Viral videos of such moral policing circulate widely, and the applause of online followers becomes the real reward, overshadowing the ethical responsibility that Islam imposes on those who speak from a position of religious authority.
Islamic ethics, however, places intention at the heart of moral action. Imam Al-Ghazali, in Ihya’ Ulum al-Din, warns that revealing another’s faults for worldly gain, even if the accusation is true, is a grave sin. Truth cannot justify public humiliation; exposing someone’s faults to impress others or gain social status (likes, engagement, followers) transforms guidance into vice.
From the earliest days of Islam, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ stood as a shield between women and public disgrace. Whether protecting Aisha (RA) from the slander that spread through Medina, turning away from a woman who confessed her sins to save her from exposure, or rebuking those who mocked repentant women, he consistently upheld dignity over spectacle, mercy over humiliation.
The Qur’an itself commands believers to guard others’ honor and to conceal faults rather than reveal them: “Do not defame one another, nor insult each other with nicknames” (49:11) and “Those who love to see indecency spread among the believers will have a painful punishment” (24:19).
From the earliest days of Islam, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ acted to protect women from public disgrace. His life provides multiple instructive examples. When a noblewoman from the tribe of Makhzum committed theft, some demanded leniency because of her status while others suggested making her an example. The Prophet ﷺ, visibly upset, reminded them that justice applied to all, saying, “By Allah, if Fatimah, the daughter of Muhammad, were to steal, I would cut off her hand.” Yet he ensured the process preserved the woman’s dignity, forbidding public shaming or gossip.
In another instance, when a man publicly cursed a woman for past sins, the Prophet ﷺ rebuked him, emphasizing that her repentance was profound enough to outweigh the sins of many, turning potential humiliation into redemption.
He also honored a woman who regularly cleaned the mosque; when she died, he prayed for her personally, showing that even those of modest social standing deserve respect and recognition.
The Prophet’s life and the Qur’an’s moral grammar leave little room for public shaming. especially of women, whose dignity is treated as sacred trust. Yet, in today’s digital pulpits and mosque sermons, moral outrage often replaces mercy, and public humiliation masquerades as piety.
This essay examines the arguments used to justify such acts, the counter-arguments rooted in Islamic ethics and human dignity, and why defending a woman’s honor is not an act of imported feminism but an affirmation of Islam’s own, forgotten compassion.
Understanding Islamic teachings
Those who defend public exposure of perceived moral lapses in contemporary Kashmir often frame their argument as a religious and social obligation. They invoke the Qur’anic injunction of الأمر بالمعروف والنهي عن المنكر, enjoining good and forbidding wrong, to justify public correction. In their view, if an act is perceived as immoral or offensive to communal norms, failing to address it publicly risks influencing others and eroding the social fabric.
Some argue that when a video or image is already circulating widely, private discretion is no longer possible; the act has entered the public sphere and therefore demands public accountability. Deterrence is often emphasized: by publicly exposing wrongdoing, these defenders contend, potential imitators are warned, and community standards are reinforced.
These arguments are reinforced by fear and urgency. Some clerics and commentators insist that moral lapses, if unchecked, lead to broader social decay. They may invoke examples from early Islamic history where public visibility was treated as a form of accountability, or they cite scholars who discuss mujāharah, acts committed openly, arguing that public exposure in such cases is permissible to maintain communal morality.
On social media, defenders often amplify these arguments with moralistic rhetoric, framing their actions as protecting the honor of religion itself, and sometimes equate silence with complicity in sin. In tightly knit societies, such reasoning carries weight because authority, especially from the pulpit, reinforces social norms quickly.
Beyond selective arguements
While defenders of public exposure in Kashmir cite الأمر بالمعروف والنهي عن المنكر, scholarly interpretation emphasizes method and intention over spectacle. Classical jurists, including Ibn Qudamah and Al-Shawkani, stress that enjoining good and forbidding wrong must be done privately whenever possible, especially when public correction risks harm or humiliation. The Qur’an itself repeatedly warns against mockery, backbiting, and exposing the faults of others, as in Surah Al-Hujurat (49:11–12), which forbids ridicule and slander, emphasizing the protection of human dignity.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ exemplified this principle. When a noblewoman committed theft, justice was applied, but she was not publicly humiliated. Similarly, when a woman known for past sins was publicly cursed, he rebuked those seeking to shame her, highlighting that sincere repentance protects one’s dignity. Scholars like Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya highlight that exposing faults publicly often produces more harm than benefit, fostering resentment and social discord rather than reform.
Thus, while الأمر بالمعروف والنهي عن المنكر is a valid Qur’anic principle, its implementation must balance communal responsibility with mercy, discretion, and protection of individual dignity. Public exposure that humiliates a minor or vulnerable person violates the ethical parameters established in Islamic law and prophetic practice. In short, the Qur’an and Sunnah prioritize reform over ridicule and guidance over spectacle, making it clear that moral enforcement must never become a tool for public shaming.
Yet in cases like the Physics Wala video, defenders often throw around selective Islamic arguments with little grounding. Some claim that the Prophet ﷺ himself punished publicly to deter others, ignoring the context and the care he exercised in protecting dignity. Others cite hadith out of context, arguing that visible accountability is inherently Islamic.
These assertions are frequently made without reference to the broader Qur’anic principles of mercy, discretion, and concealment, and they often neglect the harm caused by viral shaming. The counter-argument emphasizes that intention and method are inseparable: enjoining good must be carried out ethically, not for spectacle, applause, or online validation. Public condemnation, especially of minors or vulnerable women, violates the very ethical principles defenders claim to uphold.
Ultimately, Islamic reasoning insists that protecting the weak and upholding human dignity are primary obligations. Public exposure of a minor’s actions, even if intended to maintain morality, conflicts with these duties.
The precautionary principle in Islamic ethics favors restraint, privacy, and measured correction. Scholars across eras consistently argue that justice without dignity is incomplete, and that the harms of humiliation often outweigh any supposed social benefit.
While defenders of public exposure emphasize communal morality, the Qur’an, Prophetic practice, and scholarly opinion converge on the necessity of protecting individuals from public degradation.
The author is an Islamic scholar from Kulgam district of south Kashmir.
