Read alongside passages that acknowledge Jews, Christians, and Sabians as believers (2:62; 5:69)—as People of the Book—the Qur’an appears to gesture toward an intrinsic link between religious freedom and the human search for salvation. That search, one might argue, is the highest good—the summum bonum—toward which believers are called to strive.
Of course, this more inclusive reading is not without its critics. One frequently cited objection lies in the classical legal category of dhimmi, where non-Muslim minorities were granted protection under Islamic rule but were also required to pay a distinct tax (jizyah). Within that framework, minority communities retained the freedom to govern their own affairs according to their laws, even as they occupied a clearly defined, and unequal, civic status.
This tension—between convergence and divergence—runs through any serious engagement between Islam and religious freedom. The Arab philosopher Mohammed Abid al-Jabri proposed one way forward: reinterpret the more restrictive elements of revelation through a hermeneutic that prioritizes maqasid—the underlying aims and purposes of Islamic law. In doing so, the tradition may open itself to a broader, more expansive vision of freedom.
But the challenge cuts both ways. Religious freedom, when posed to scriptural traditions like Islam, is not simply a call for “more freedom.” The Canadian philosopher Charles Taylor offers a useful corrective. Freedom, he argues, must evolve into what he calls a “strong evaluation”—a deeper moral framework that helps us discern what is truly good, and what kind of human flourishing we ought to pursue.
Seen in that light, religious freedom cannot remain a purely “negative” concept—one defined only by the absence of coercion. It needs a richer context. One that draws from history, speaks to the present, and remains open to the future.