Understanding the Three Abrahamic Faiths:2025 Annual Peace Conversation
An Islamic Philosophy of Interfaith Coexistence:
Covenants in the Qurʾān, Sunnah, and Muslim Governance
Professor Halim Rane
Distinguished guests, dear colleagues, and friends—
Assalamu ʿalaykum. Peace be upon you all. Kia ora.
It is a great honour to deliver this year’s Peace Lecture, hosted by the Dunedin Abrahamic Interfaith Group. I wish to express my deep appreciation for your commitment to fostering understanding between the Abrahamic faiths. There is a verse in the Qurʾān in which Allah commends Prophet Abraham for his piety and covenants him as linnāsi imāman—
“a leader for humanity”
Abrahamenquires about his descendants, to which Allah replies lā yanālu ʿahdī l-ẓālimīna—“My covenant does not extend to the wrongdoers.”
Two important points arise from this verse: our shared commitment to following the religion of Abraham; and that our covenant with God is not unconditional but subject to our conduct in accordance with what God commands. In the spirit of our shared commitment to the religion of Abraham and covenant with God, I would like to share with you this evening a body of Islamic knowledge and tradition that, regrettably, remains underecognised—the centrality of covenant—ʿahd and mīthāq—concepts that permeate the Qurʾān, were exemplified by Prophet Muḥammad, historically affirmed by Muslim governance—and as I contend in my latest book Covenants with Allah, represent the keystone of Islam.
I offer this lecture as a contribution to a shared moral discourse—one grounded in the belief that peace, justice, and the sanctity of humanity are not only universally cherished ideals, but divine imperatives.
Today, Islam is still portrayed in certain media and political discourse as a threat to, rather than a partner in, peace and security. Whether through the writings of influential thinkers like Samuel Huntington, who declared that Islam itself—and not extremism—is the problem; or extremists and terrorists who claim to defend civilisation from a great replacement; or the rhetoric of world leaders who stoke fear of “militant Islam”; or the actions of those who misuse Islamic scripture and symbols to justify violence—we are witnessing profound distortion and ignorance, disinformation and misconceptions.
Through decades of study, the Islamic tradition I have come to know—the one I will present this evening—proclaims not enmity, but humanity. Not domination, but dignity. Not supremacy, but stewardship. Not conflict, but coexistence.
At the heart of this tradition lies the concept of covenant. In Arabic, we refer to this as ʿahd and mīthāq—the formal agreement and the binding nature of the commitment. These terms are central to the Qurʾānic narrative of human existence and coexistence. They refer to divine agreements— between God and humanity, between communities, and among individuals and groups. Covenants are not mere legalities; they carry moral, ethical, and theological weight. They bind us to one another and to the divine.
You may be familiar with the architectural metaphor of the “five pillars” of Islam—testimony of faith, prayer, charity, fasting and pilgrimage. To extend that metaphor, covenants are the keystone of Islam, positioned at the apex of the arch, giving the entire structure its integrity. Covenants are fundamental to the divine plan of a Just and Merciful Lord. Life on Earth is high stakes—the realm in which we humans are given 70, 80 or perhaps 90 years to confirm our worthiness for an eternal afterlife of paradise or hell. Covenants convey the terms and conditions, obligations and expectations, rights and responsibilities—they give the experience of life on Earth accountability, certainty, and trust. They govern God-human and inter-human relations.
Tonight, I share with you one part—the Islamic part—of a much more extensive human story of covenant. From time immemorial human beings have made formal agreements that we call covenants, treaties, charters, and pledges. First Nations peoples, religious traditions, and ancient civilisations all have these instruments that are used for establishing communities, resolving conflict, and peacemaking. For example, the Yolnju people in Australia use the term makarrata in reference to treaty-making and coming together after a dispute, while here the Māori use terms such as kawenata, whakaaetanga, and tiriti. Indeed, for both peoples, truth-telling and treaty-making are central to the processes of self-determination and reconciliation.
At the global level, the law and order of the modern world is governed by international covenants and treaties such as the United Nations Charter. Human rights are enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and the International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights, while the protection of peoples from destruction by others is the core purpose of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. We also have the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples as a covenant that aims to address historical and ongoing injustices caused by colonisation.
The Qurʾān tells us that the very foundation of human existence is covenantal. In chapter 7, verse 172, we read of the primordial covenant by which all human souls bore witness to the Lordship of and accountability to God: alastu birubbikum, “Am I not your Lord?” asked God. Balā shahidnā, “Yes, we have testified,” responded the children of Adam.
This was not merely a metaphysical moment—it was a moral orientation and affirmation of the fitra—the innate, natural human disposition. To be human, in Islam, is to live by the covenant with the Creator, with one another, and with creation itself. Covenants with Allah pertain to both existence and coexistence.
The primordial covenant is also the source of accountability, which becomes apparent in the Earthly domain. The Qurʾān warns repeatedly against breaking covenants:
In this verse (Q2:27), those who violate the covenant of Allah are described as severing that which Allah commanded to be joined and spreading corruption on Earth. They will be the losers in the afterlife. Conversely, in Q13:20-24 we read that those who fulfil their covenant will be greeted in the afterlife with words of ‘peace’ and paradise will be their abode.
But it is not only the metaphysical that concerns us. The Qurʾān describes a covenantal relationship with the prophets (Q3:81 and Q33:7)—to acknowledge and faithfully disseminate the divine message and guidance they receive. Allah’s covenants extend to specific prophets—including Adam, Abraham, and Moses—and with their communities that received revelation before Islam.
Allah’s covenant with Adam and the Children of Adam—all of humanity—warns of the avowed enmity of Satan, obsessed with causing human suffering through supremacist ideology and moral corruption. Allah’s covenant with Abraham honours him with leadership of humanity but does not extend to his descendants if they are wrongdoers. The Children of Israel received a mīthāq—a solemn, binding covenant—with obligations to worship God alone, be good to parents, relatives and the needy, observe prayer and charity, speak rightly to people, and not forcibly displace people or engage in bloodshed. Their covenant is not described as a privilege of chosenness but a responsibility of moral, ethical leadership, and to be righteously obedient to God.
And then we come to the Prophet Muḥammad. His self-perception, diplomacy, and entire prophetic mission demonstrates a covenantal consciousness. He entered into formal agreements with the Jewish tribes of Medina, with Christian communities such as the Monks of Mount Sinai and the people of Najrān, and even with his fiercest enemies, the Meccan Quraysh tribe.
The Constitution of Medina is among the earliest and most remarkable of these. It established a multi-religious, multi-ethnic polity in which Muslims and non-Muslims, Arabs and Jews, and others were bound together as one ummah, one community, in mutual defence and shared responsibility.
Another example is the Treaty of Ḥudaybiyya—a peace treaty with the polytheistic Quraysh tribe of Mecca. Though controversial at the time, it is an enduring example of conflict resolution and that laid the groundwork for peaceful coexistence. The Qurʾān itself refers to this as a “clear victory” (fatḥan mubīnan).
The Prophet’s covenants with Christian, Jewish and other communities were an extension of his policy of peaceful coexistence established in Medina. These covenants, such as with the Monks of Mount Sinai and Christians of Najrān, are pledges of protection of life, property, and places of worship. They ensured no compulsion in religion, and non-interference in ecclesiastical affairs. In all these cases, the Prophet’s approach was not to dominate but to dignify. He understood that diversity of language and colour is part of God's signs (Q30:22). That there should be no compulsion in religion (Q2:256, Q10:99). That in Allah’s divine plan, human beings get the choose to believe or disbelieve, obey or disobey (Q18:29). That humanity was created into nations and tribes to “know one another” and that the “most noble in the sight of Allah” is not based on lineage, wealth or power but “righteousness” (Q49:13)
This covenantal philosophy did not die with Prophet Muhammad. It was upheld and extended by his successors across the Middle East and North Africa to Spain and across Central Asia to India. ʿUmar ibn al-Khaṭṭāb, the second caliph, issued a famous covenant to the Christians of Jerusalem. He guaranteed the security of their churches, property, and religious freedom. And he did so not out of political calculation, but as a religious obligation—one tied explicitly to the Prophet’s own precedent and the Qurʾān. Verse 22:40, for example, calls specifically for the protection of monasteries (ṣawāmi’un), churches (biya’un), synagogues (ṣalawātun), and mosques (masājidu). The protection of places of worship is a central provision of the Prophet’s covenants with Christian, Jewish, and other communities that became a standard of Islamic governance.
Imām ʿAlī, the Prophet’s cousin and son-in-law, the fourth caliph and one through whom the message of the Prophet has been preserved, issued a powerful covenant to his appointed governor of Egypt, Mālik al-Ashtar. In it, he instructed him to rule with mercy and justice—reminding him that the people under his rule are either “your brothers in faith or your equals in humanity.” He emphasised peace and security as a fulfilment of the Covenant of Allah. He also emphasised that agreements must be scrupulously upheld and that there can be no ambiguity when writing treaties. Regrettably, this was not a standard upheld in the colonial era by European settlers when they made treaties with the peoples of this land, Aotearoa, or the Americas, too often in bad faith.
In the history of Islamic governance, we find the covenantal tradition upheld by Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn al- Ayyūbī—Saladin—who, upon retaking Jerusalem from the Crusaders, reaffirmed the covenants of the Prophet, ʿUmar, and ʿAlī. He protected Christian and Jewish inhabitants, their places of worship, and their right to practice their faith in peace in accordance with the Covenant of Allah and the Prophet. His victory over the Crusaders did not mark a bloody revenge but, like the Prophet when he entered Mecca in 630, Saladin set the terms for a new moral order by which people of various faiths committed to coexist in peace and security.
The Ottomans also, centuries later, preserved and reissued the covenants of the Prophet. Their inclusion of these documents in official archives—bearing imperial seals and court certifications— attests to their enduring authority. During the reign of Sulṭān Murad III in the late 1500s, the Grand Chancery, Feridun Beg, included the Covenant of the Prophet with the Monks of Mount Sinai in his influential compilation Munshaʾāt al-Salāṭīn (Correspondence of the Sulṭāns). That his transmission of the covenant is almost identical to that preserved by the monks in St Catherine Monastery bears testimony to a shared history memory of peaceful coexistence ensured by the Covenant of Allah and Covenant of the Prophet. In 2018, the Prophet’s Covenant with the Monks of Mount Sinai was cited by the Supreme Court of Pakistan in the acquittal of a Pakistani Christian woman, Asia Bibi, who was charged with committing blasphemy.
This historical continuity reveals that covenantal fidelity was not the exception, but the normative standard of Islamic governance. The covenants of the Prophet and successive Muslim rulers invoke the ‘Ahd Allah and frame any failure to protect non-Muslim communities as a violation of the Covenant with God. Where violations occurred—such as the confiscation of churches by certain Umayyad or Abbasid rulers—it was in contravention of the Qurʾān, a breach of the Prophet’s covenant, and a transgression of Islam’s normative, ethical and theological commitments and standards enshrined in the covenants.
In modern times, the influence of religion has waned, though religious affiliation remains the global norm. Sacred covenants have receded from public consciousness, and even the bonds of secular covenants, treaties, and agreements are being eroded in this age of post-truth, post-justice, and post- humanity.
Today, we are witnessing a profound crisis of humanity in relation to the Holy Land. The principles that underpin both Islamic and international covenants—protection of life, prohibition from forced displacement, the sanctity of homes, hospitals, schools, and places of worship—are systematically violated. For almost two years now, the entire world has witnessed a people displaced, starved, mutilated, and slaughtered with impunity.
Since October 2023, the world has watched, live on our phones, the devastation in Gaza. Over 60,000 fellow human beings—mostly women and children—have been killed, and an estimated 300,000 injured. Homes have been reduced to rubble leaving two million people with no shelter or safety. Hospitals destroyed so the injured cannot survive their wounds. Schools and universities bombed to erase culture, heritage, and society. The land poisoned by hundreds of tons of toxic munitions making it unliveable. And places of worship—mosques and churches—demolished to break the people’s spirit. The terms by which the world has come to describe the extent of death and destruction are domicide, scholasticide, ecocide, and genocide. These are war crimes and crimes against humanity. They are egregious violations of sacred and international covenants and laws.
The Qurʾān warns: “Do not shed blood or expel one another from your homes” (Q2:84). It reminds that to kill one innocent soul is as if to kill all of humanity (Q5:32). Both verses are addressed to the Children of Israel, for they are expected to be a moral example for humanity. The Qurʾānic account of the Children of Israel entering the Holy Land differs starkly from the biblical. The Qurʾān does not allow forced displacement, ethnic cleansing, or genocide. Rather, verses 2:58-59 and 7:161-162 state that the Children of Israel were to enter the land peacefully, not as conquerors, but prostrating (sujjadun) with humility and in righteous repentance (hittatun)— “but they changed the words of God to a statement other than that which had been conveyed to them” says the Qurʾān.
The covenant with God is not unconditional. God does not permit the atrocities and barbarity we have witnessed in Gaza. God does not oppress. God forbids oppression. As God’s vicegerents (khalifa) on Earth, we are entrusted with a moral duty to speak the truth, uphold justice, and safeguard humanity. To claim divine sanction for egregious violence and injustice is not only a distortion—it betrays the religion of Abraham and breaks our covenant with God.
What I have presented to you tonight is an Islamic philosophy of coexistence. The keystone of which is the concept of covenant. Faith and religion cannot be a license for violence and oppression, nor can it be a tool of supremacism or extremism. The Abrahamic tradition is founded on a covenantal bond with God and each other based on human dignity and justice.
The covenantal terms and conditions, expectations and obligations, rights and responsibilities enshrined in the Qurʾān, implemented by Prophet Muhammad, and affirmed by successive Muslim rulers, leave no doubt about God’s Will for human existence and coexistence. That we must be guided by truth, justice, and a shared humanity, ingrained in our fitra—our natural disposition that affirms our ultimate accountability to God.
Let me conclude by affirming this: Islam has within it the theological, ethical, and historical resources not only to peacefully and respectfully coexist with others but to uphold human dignity as a covenantal provision, governance condition, and normative tradition. It is past time that we move from seeing and studying Islam as a problem or security threat to recognising and appreciating its profound potential as a resource for our collective response to the challenges and crises that confront all of us today.
The challenge for Muslims, and indeed for all people, is to return to the spirit of covenant—to reaffirm our ethical commitments in a world desensitised to falsehood, injustice, and oppression. Let us honour the covenants that bind us, to God and to one another, and commit to recovering our shared humanity.
Thank you.