The Imperative of Transparency and Accountability in Zakah Distribution
The Prophet not only empathized with the poor; he “loved the poor and sat with them,” and taught us the prayer: “Lord God, grant us love for the poor [hubb almasakin].”1 While today we may question whether the Ummah is doing enough for the oppressed, it is commendable that our willingness to support the impoverished with Sadaqah persists. A report published by the Muslim Philanthropy Initiative in 2021 found that although Muslim-Americans account for 1.1% of the population, they account for 1.4 % (nearly 4.3 billion dollars) of charity.2 Despite common stereotypes about where Muslims put their money, the same report notes that a sizable portion of charity goes towards domestic non-faith causes, including the COVID-19 pandemic response.
In his book Traveling Home, a treatise on Muslim integration in Europe (reviewed here), Shaykh Abdal Hakim Murad ends with a chapter discussing the power of charity in reviving Muslim consciousness.1 While Murad marvelously details the potential of those in a position to give donations, from the high net-worth Muslims in London to the Emirati billionaires living off of petrodollars, the recipients remain conspicuously unaddressed, particularly in the case of zak h.
There is no doubt that we live in a predatory financial system, where banks and institutions salivate at the prospect of exploiting those on the lower rungs of society so they may further perpetuate and maintain the imbalance of societal wealth. Riba (here we are loosely referring to interest and usurious practices) is explicitly prohibited in Islam, due to its exploitative nature and end result of vampirically usurping the financially desperate to fill the pockets of the increasingly rich. Allah warns us that engaging in usury is a lossmaking proposition on the cosmic scale, as is stated in the Quran:
Whatever loans you give, only seeking interest at the expense of people’s wealth will not increase with Allah. But whatever zak h you give, only seeking the pleasure of Allah — it is they whose reward will be multiplied.
Qur’an, 30:39
This ayah beautifully contrasts the parasitic nature of riba with the beautiful justice of zak h. The institution of zak h is the antonym of riba, in that it serves as redistributive economic justice, creating harmony within the socio-economic system. Allah informs us that zak h is a positive-sum game: We purify our wealth, the poor are empowered, and on the cosmic scale our reward is multiplied exponentially with Allah.
There is also a deeper meaning to this ayah that further reveals the justice of Allah. Even though zak h is the wealth of Allah and does not belong to us in principle, Allah rewards us in a multiplicative manner, in direct contrast to how riba works — a true positive-sum game instead of a zero-sum rat race. The importance of zak h in Islam and as an institution for Muslims should not be underestimated; it is an ummah-centric system that forces wealthy Muslims to empathize with the plight of their less wealthy brethren.
Zak h is a foundational pillar of Islam, considered integral to the foundation of Islamic civilization to such an extent that the first Caliph Abu Bakr waged wars against those who rejected giving zak h. It is a grave mistake to consider zak h as merely another form of charity; zak h is an institution and a system, unlike Sadaqah, which is a form of spontaneous charity.3 It is so fundamental to a Muslim that Allah mentions salah and zak h 28 times in conjunction within the Qur’an. As the great Hanafi scholar Badr ad-Din al-Ayni wrote, “Zak h is the partner of Salah.” 4 Mulla Ali al-Qari states, “Salah and zak h are the foundations of all worship.”5
To this end, Shaykh Yousef Wahb has written an essay, “The Use and Misuse of Zak h Funds by Religious Institutions in North America,” discussing how North
American practices regarding zak h distribution depart from the rules of Fiqh (Islamic law).6 While a fiqhi analysis of Wahb’s essay is beyond the scope of this article, in brief, he highlights how contemporary fatawa and practices expand zak h eligibility to an unprecedented and almost dubious level. In addition to detailing equitable distribution among the eight specified categories of recipients in the Sh fi school, Wahb spends time breaking down three specific categories where modern-day distribution proves inconsistent: fi sabilillah or “In the path of Allah”; zak h workers; and “mending of the hearts.”
O, believers! Indeed, many rabbis and monks consume people’s wealth wrongfully and hinder others from the Way of Allah. Give good news of a painful torment to those who hoard gold and silver and do not spend it in Allah’s cause.
Qur’an, 9:34-35
The lack of transparency in zak h allocation is dire, an issue plaguing many popular Muslim-American non-profit and advocacy organizations. As Wahb writes, “The European Council of Fatwa and Research allows zak h-focused organizations to take up to one-eighth of the collected zak h for ‘operational fees’ without explicating what these fees entail.”6 Ahmed Shaikh, an Islamic estate planning attorney, runs the “Working Towards Ehsan” newsletter that regularly provides overviews of such institutes, including Emgage, IR-USA, and Launchgood. In one post, he notes, “The practical effect of much zak h in the United States is the affluent recirculating wealth amongst themselves.” Without delving into the legal minutiae of zak h, he provides practical examples where Muslims paradoxically stand to benefit directly from the very zak h they give, such as giving to local masajid, political advocacy organizations, and certain da’wah groups. He also highlights a concerning example of an Islamic scholar being prominently featured on a nonprofit’s website without a corresponding explanation of the scholars’ role (beyond branding) and if said
Al m actually vets the organization’s zak h policies.
Wahb’s article underscores the dangerous lack of consistent boundaries or vetting mechanisms available for categories of eligible zak h recipients in the United States. It is imperative that Muslim nonprofits collectively raise the bar in how they develop zak h policies and work with qualified Islamic finance experts and scholars to ensure respect for a pillar of our religion that necessitates absolute diligence.
Beyond the obvious spiritual importance of zak h, expecting a high degree of transparency is a reasonable ask, standard for any modern organization. One can simply go online to find out the salary of any professor or football coach at a public university, the dollar amount and frequency of political donations (and party recipient) made by ordinary individuals, the exact value of food and travel payments shelled out by pharmaceutical companies to all physicians since 2016, and even the minimally and maximally negotiated-price of any hospital service, lab or procedure on a hospital website due to a relatively recent law. Even with inevitable legal differences on who is qualified to receive zak h, the average Muslim should know if his or her zak h is footing the bill for a speaker’s business class flight and hotel, the election financing for a Muslim-sympathizing non-Muslim candidate running for office, administrative overhead, flashy influencer endorsements, the local masjid’s basketball court and multi-purpose hall, or “intellectual efforts” (as legitimized by the Assembly of Muslim Jurists of America).
In his article, Wahb aptly remarks, “[throughout] history, classical fiqh has never been viewed as impeding da wah but seems to be perceived as one in today’s community work.” 6 He goes on to provide a creative example of how zak h can potentially be utilized for debt relief among refugees, two-thirds of whom come from Muslim countries.7 Wahb’s work makes abundantly clear that zak h is not to be conflated with charity and that the zak h you pay may be utilized for different purposes based on which organization you give it to. While the scope of zak h is fuzzy in the modern world, it does not legitimize a free-for-all within the Muslim nonprofit industry where organizations can make a blanket claim of “zak h eligibility” without strictly defining what that entails (and who signed off on that claim).
A Muslim who entrusts an organization with zak h effectively makes that organization his agent. While the duty of fulfilling zak h ultimately rests with the individual, the agent is given a trust and accepts it on behalf of the individual. Given the importance of zak h, there is a duty of transparency not only for the sake of the recipients and economic justice but for the afterlife, where we will all be held to account. Muslims must be able to place conviction and trust in the agent, reassured by the knowledge that their zak h is not misused, and is righteously delivered to the legitimate categories Allah prescribes for us. The Muslim community is well within its right to demand accountability and transparency from its agents. After all, zak h is not just charity, it is an Ummatic institution that creates positive sum games for all, paving the way for success in this world and the next.
The article was originally published by Traversing Tradition