Within Islam, the Hadith literature holds immense authority, guiding everything from prayer to ethics. However, some of these texts, particularly those that address Jews, have been co-opted to justify hatred and violence, fueling antisemitic ideologies for centuries.
By Dr. Tim Orr
Religious texts have shaped societies, forged alliances, and created divisions throughout history. Within Islam, the Hadith literature holds immense authority, guiding everything from prayer to ethics. However, some of these texts, particularly those that address Jews, have been co-opted to justify hatred and violence, fueling antisemitic ideologies for centuries. One Hadith, in particular, stands out due to its enduring impact and how it has shaped perceptions of Jews within the Muslim world:
"The Day of Judgment will not come until the Muslims fight the Jews, and the Jews will hide behind stones and trees, and the stones and trees will say, 'O Muslim, O servant of Allah, there is a Jew behind me; come and kill him.'" (Sahih Muslim 2922)
This chilling Hadith, found in one of the two most respected collections of Sunni Islam, is not merely a reflection of ancient conflicts but has become a symbol of centuries-long enmity. It raises a critical question: How did a religion that professes mercy and justice come to hold onto a text that perpetuates such visceral hatred? To truly understand the role of the Hadith in Islamic antisemitism, we must delve into its historical, theological, and sociopolitical dimensions.
To grasp the gravity of this Hadith's influence, it is essential to understand Hadith literature's role in Islam. The Hadiths are second only to the Qur’an regarding authority and are considered critical for interpreting Islamic law and ethics. Sahih Muslim, where this Hadith is found, is one of the Sihah Sittah (the six major collections of Sunni Hadith), making it highly authoritative for Muslims worldwide. The fact that this Hadith is part of such a respected corpus gives it significant weight, rendering it almost untouchable in certain circles of Islamic scholarship.
The story of this Hadith is not just about its textual authority; it is about how it has been used over centuries to shape Muslim-Jewish relations. Imagine a religious scholar in medieval Cairo or Damascus. His role is to interpret sacred texts and apply them to his time's social and political realities. This Hadith, which speaks of an eschatological battle between Muslims and Jews, reinforces his society's views of Jews as "other"—as perpetual outsiders and enemies of Islam. It is easy to see how a text like this could be invoked during periods of political tension or war, further inflaming already fraught relations between Muslims and Jews.
Some modern scholars, attempting to soften the Hadith’s impact, argue that it must be understood in its historical context. The 7th-century Arabian Peninsula was turbulent, marked by battles, alliances, and betrayals. In Medina, where Muhammad established his first Muslim community, tensions with local Jewish tribes eventually escalated into conflict. These political and military tensions are often cited as the backdrop for this Hadith. The argument follows that it is less a reflection of religious dogma and more a reflection of specific historical grievances.
However, this valuable contextualization does not entirely explain why the Hadith continues to hold sway in modern times. Historical context does not negate the theological interpretation that has emerged around this text. Even though relations between Muslims and Jews in the 7th century were complex, involving alliances and peaceful coexistence alongside conflict, this Hadith has come to represent a stark, unambiguous enmity. It reduces the multifaceted relationships between these communities into a binary of perpetual conflict. This binary has endured long after the political circumstances of the 7th century have faded into history.
The Hadith has been interpreted as a commentary on historical conflicts and a prophecy of the future. This eschatological dimension transforms the conflict into something inevitable, ordained by God. The theological construct that emerges from this Hadith frames Jews as eternal adversaries of Muslims, not merely as political rivals but as metaphysical enemies in a cosmic struggle that will only end with the Day of Judgment.
This theological framing is deeply problematic because it allows antisemitism to be embedded within Islamic eschatology. Unlike historical grievances, which can be resolved politically, eschatological conflicts are seen as divine, unchangeable, and outside human agency. In this view, Jews are not just enemies of the Muslim community; they are enemies of God, and therefore, opposition to Jews is framed as a religious duty.
Ronald L. Nettler, in Past Trials and Present Tribulations: A Muslim Fundamentalist’s View of the Jews (1987), explores how Islamic antisemitism has been constructed through selective readings of Islamic texts, including this Hadith. He demonstrates that by elevating Jews to the status of an eschatological enemy, Islamic fundamentalists have entrenched a dangerous theological construct. This has profound consequences for modern Muslim-Jewish relations, as it frames Jews not as individuals but as embodiments of evil.
In recent decades, this Hadith has been weaponized by Islamist movements, most notably Hamas. The Hamas Charter, written in 1988, explicitly references this Hadith, using it to justify the group’s struggle against Israel. The Hadith becomes a prophecy and a call to action, mobilizing Muslims to engage in what they believe is a divinely ordained conflict.
Andrew Bostom, in The Legacy of Islamic Antisemitism (2008), traces how radical preachers have invoked this Hadith and other antisemitic texts to incite violence. Figures like Yusuf al-Qaradawi have used this Hadith to justify attacks on Jews, conflating modern political conflicts with ancient religious enmity. The Hadith provides theological cover for acts of terrorism, giving extremists a powerful tool to legitimize their actions in the eyes of their followers.
Consider the story of a young Palestinian boy growing up in Gaza. He attends religious school, where he is taught this Hadith as part of his education. The political reality he sees around him—the Israeli occupation, the violence, the suffering—aligns with the cosmic struggle described in the Hadith. For him, this text is not an abstract theological concept but a lived reality, shaping his understanding of Jews and his role as a Muslim. Such teachings fuel a cycle of hatred and violence perpetuated through the generations.
For Muslim reformers, this Hadith presents a formidable challenge. How do you reconcile the ethical principles of Islam—justice, mercy, compassion—with a text that calls for the extermination of an entire group of people? Reformers argue that Islam must be understood in light of its ethical core, which emphasizes human life's sanctity and justice's importance. They contend that texts like this Hadith must be reinterpreted or even rejected if they contradict these ethical principles.
The late reformist scholar Muhammad Abduh, for instance, argued that Muslims must use reason to interpret Islamic texts and that any text that leads to injustice or violence should be viewed with skepticism. Abduh’s views resonate with modern Muslim intellectuals who believe Islam can and must evolve to address contemporary challenges. These reformers face an uphill battle, however, as the Hadith literature holds immense authority, and some see questioning its validity as undermining the foundations of the faith.
In one instance, a reformist imam in Tunisia delivered a Friday sermon in which he acknowledged the presence of antisemitic Hadiths in Islamic tradition but called for reevaluating how these texts are applied today. "Islam calls us to justice," he said, "and we must question whether texts that fuel hatred are in keeping with the spirit of Islam." While some received his message well, others were met with resistance by others who saw his approach as dangerous, a deviation from tradition.
The persistence of antisemitic Hadiths in Islamic thought reveals a deeper theological tension within Islam itself. On the one hand, Islam is a faith that speaks of peace, justice, and compassion. On the other, it contains texts used to justify hostility and violence. The challenge for Muslims today is to engage in a candid reexamination of their tradition, confronting the parts that have been weaponized to perpetuate hatred.
Only through honest dialogue and critical engagement with the Hadith literature can the Muslim world begin to root out these antisemitic sentiments. This is not just a matter of improving Muslim-Jewish relations; it is a matter of aligning Islam more closely with its highest ethical ideals. Reforming how these texts are taught and understood is crucial to building a future where all people are treated with dignity and respect regardless of their faith.
Tim Orr is an Evangelical minister, conference speaker, and interfaith consultant with over 30 years of experience in cross-cultural ministry. He holds six degrees, including a master’s in Islamic studies from the Islamic College in London. Tim taught Religious Studies for 15 years at Indiana University Columbus and is now a Congregations and Polarization Project research associate at the Center for the Study of Religion and American Culture at Indiana University Indianapolis. He has spoken at universities, including Oxford, and mosques throughout the U.K. His research focuses on American Evangelicalism, Islamic antisemitism, and Islamic feminism, and he has published widely, including three books.
