“IF THE QURAYSH buried their daughters alive, wouldn’t there eventually be no women left? And then there wouldn’t be any people left,” my daughter asked after learning about Arabian society before Islam.
It was a simple, yet piercing, question. She wasn’t dismissing history; she was engaging with it thoughtfully. And her thinking was sound. Her question opened the door to a deeper conversation, not only about the past, but about what Islam came to change.
I explained to her that the burying of daughters was not a universal practice among the Arabs. If it had been, as she correctly reasoned, their society couldn’t have survived. Rather, it existed among certain tribes. But more importantly, it was socially acceptable within that culture. That acceptability is what Islam came to confront.
The Qur’an captures the mindset behind this practice, not just the action itself. Allah tells us:
وَإِذَا بُشِّرَ أَحَدُهُم بِٱلْأُنثَىٰ ظَلَّ وَجْهُهُۥ مُسْوَدًّۭا وَهُوَ كَظِيمٌۭ
“Whenever one of them is given the good news of a baby girl, his face grows gloomy, as he suppresses his rage.” (an-Nahl 58)
This verse reveals something profound. The issue was not simply violence against girls; it was a worldview in which daughters were seen as a burden, a source of shame, or a weakness. Sons, on the other hand, were seen as a strength: fighters in war, protectors of the tribe, a means of increasing wealth and status.
Islam did not merely prohibit the killing of daughters. It dismantled the belief system that made such a crime conceivable in the first place.
Look how the Qur’an asks:
وَإِذَا ٱلْمَوْءُۥدَةُ سُئِلَتْ. بِأَىِّ ذَنۢبٍۢ قُتِلَتْ
And when baby girls, buried alive, are asked for what crime they were put to death. (at Takwir 8-9)
It’s a question that demands an answer no one can give. A question that echoes across time, forcing us to confront not just what was done, but the thinking that allowed it.
And then Islam builds the correct thinking on an issue.
The Prophet ﷺ said: “Whoever has a daughter and he does not bury her alive, nor humiliate her, nor prefer his sons over her, he will enter Paradise due to her.” (Abī Dāwūd)
And of course, he ﷺ remains the best example of a man with the most beautiful relationship with his own daughters.
This has always been the way of Islam: it challenges falsehood not only in actions but in ideas, assumptions, and social norms. Ultimately, it builds a practical system in which the truth and justice of Islam are implemented to protect individuals and society from those harms.
Understanding this, that Islam confronts not just actions but the worldviews behind them, helps us read our own moment more clearly.
Here in Britain, no one is forced to drink alcohol, gamble, or commit zina, but these things are accepted and socially normalised. It is acceptable to have an abortion for an unwanted pregnancy till 24 weeks. The issue is not compulsion; it’s acceptability.
The MeToo movement, the violence against women crisis and the Epstein files show us how society has reduced women and girls to nothing more than a commodity.
Just as pre-Islamic society normalised practices rooted in injustice, modern societies normalise actions that Allah identifies as harmful to individuals, families, and society at large.
And just as before, Islam does not merely offer personal piety. It offers an alternative moral framework and system built on truth, justice, and accountability.
This is what the Messenger ﷺ came with. He did not simply reform individuals; he transformed a society by challenging what it considered normal.
This is an important reminder. Over time and constant exposure, we, too, can become comfortable with the injustices around us. We can begin to see them as normal, inevitable, even harmless. We can forget that we carry a message and mission that asks us to continue in the Messenger’s ﷺ footsteps, not to blend in, but to transform.
As a parent, moments like my daughter’s question remind me why these conversations matter. Our children are watching the world carefully. They notice contradictions. They ask honest questions. And Islam gives us the tools to answer them, not with defensiveness or fear, but with clarity, confidence, and courage.
Perhaps the real lesson is not only what Islam changed in the past, but how it continues to challenge us to question the world we are raising our children in today.
