Last month, Mufti Taqi Usmani, a prominent religious scholar and celebrated authority in Islamic finance, issued a fatwa declaring purchases made through cryptocurrency “impermissible.” The state responded cautiously. It largely focused on the question of financial risk and regulatory uncertainty. There was no significant, sustained conversation in the mainstream space. Much of the discussion moved to social media platforms, where complex questions were often reduced to emotional polemics.
There is no denying the fact that the scale and pace of technological innovation today are unparalleled and consequential. Unlike earlier inventions that largely transformed utilities and tools, new technologies are transforming modern societies altogether. Therefore, the debate over cryptocurrency is not merely about whether a digital asset is (im)permissible.
The fatwa stopped short of targeting the technology per se. However, it created avoidable skepticism. It reinforced a mindset resistant to change and dampened the urge to experiment and innovate. Importantly, it overlooked a clear lesson taught by history: societies rarely protect themselves by rejecting change. They protect themselves by developing the capacity to understand and govern it.
Money itself provides the strongest example. It has continuously evolved over centuries. Societies have used commodities such as cattle, shells, salt, gold, and silver as mediums of exchange. Government-issued paper currencies and, increasingly, digital transactions followed. The essential foundation of money has never been its physical form; it has been trust.
Cryptocurrency represents another stage in this evolution. On one side, blockchain technology enables new forms of trust. On the other side, there are genuine concerns, including volatility, speculation, consumer protection, and illicit finance, among others. A responsible society cannot ignore these risks simply because a technology is innovative. Yet acknowledging risks does not necessarily lead to prohibition. Modern economies have dealt with such innovations time and again. Stock markets crash. Banks fail. Financial institutions engage in misconduct. Currency crises occur. Yet societies do not respond by eliminating them altogather. States regulate it.
The same standard should guide the approach toward digital assets. The discussion also raises important questions about the relationship between Islamic jurisprudence and technological change. Some may assume that religious traditions naturally resist innovation. History, however, presents a more complex picture.
It reinforced a mindset resistant to change and dampened the urge to experiment and innovate. Importantly, it overlooked a clear lesson taught by history: societies rarely protect themselves by rejecting change.
Islamic intellectual tradition has never been stagnant. It has repeatedly engaged with changing realities. Concepts such as ijtihad (independent reasoning), maslahah (public interest), maqasid al-shariah (the higher objectives of Islamic law), and urf (custom and social practice) developed because societies continuously encounter new circumstances requiring adaptation. The history of Muslim societies itself provides an important lesson. Periods of intellectual and scientific advancement, which we proudly refer to as the Golden Age, were often associated with openness and adaptability.
The same principle applies today. Similarly, the history of technological development demonstrates that initial hesitation toward innovation is not unique to cryptocurrency. The printing press provides one of the most significant examples. When printing technology emerged, it generated vehement pushback. Photography also generated religious debates because of concerns surrounding representation and image-making. The introduction of loudspeakers similarly raised questions about whether technology was altering established practices. Radio and television followed a similar trajectory. Not all of these concerns were fully addressed. Today, however, these very technologies are key tools of religious outreach. These examples, nevertheless, reveal that societies often fear technologies because they disrupt existing assumptions. Over time, institutions adapt and develop ways to integrate them. The core of this debate ultimately concerns institutional responsibility.
Modern societies function through different forms of authority. Religious institutions champion moral and ethical reflection. Academic institutions produce knowledge and research. Markets generate innovation and economic activity. Governments create laws, regulate institutions, and protect public interests. These roles should complement each other. They cannot replace each other.
Religious perspectives can undoubtedly make valuable contributions. Fairness, transparency, exploitation, privacy, and social welfare are vital ethical concerns. Islamic principles concerning justice and public benefit can contribute meaningfully to these debates. However, determining how a technology should be regulated, integrated, or otherwise incorporated into the national realm is fundamentally a matter of public policy. That responsibility belongs to the state. And state should excersie it.
The question is not whether religious scholars should contribute to public debates. They should. The question is whether religious opinions should replace the regulatory responsibilities of the state. That distinction becomes increasingly important as technology accelerates. The next technological transformations will be even more profound. This debate should not be seen as an ideological confrontation between religion and technology. Such a framing is both inaccurate and unhelpful. Instead, it should address the question of how ethical traditions and modern institutions can work together to govern technologies that are too important to ignore.
It is important to understand that technological leadership cannot be acquired overnight. Countries that neglect these innovations at early stages cannot easily catch up because technological ecosystems depend on decades of investment, research, education, and institutional development. Countries around the world have increasingly recognized this reality.
Our hesitation toward a particular innovation does not make it irrelevant. It evolves elsewhere. Our initial rejection often results in eventual adoption later on terms defined by others. For this reason, the entire debate should be viewed as part of a larger conversation about technological sovereignty. It does not mean that every country must invent every technology itself. That is not technological sovereignty. Rather, it means developing the capacity to understand frontier innovations, participate in their development, and ensure that national interests are protected.
We cannot stop technological change. But we can decide whether we will participate in this transformational leap. That decision will influence Pakistan’s economic independence, strategic relevance, and place in the world. The societies that succeed in the future will not necessarily be those that avoid disruption. They will be those who understand disruption, govern it responsibly, and transform it into opportunity.