Hasn’t Religion Caused Enough Harm?

The objection from harm carries the most emotional weight, and it deserves engagement rather than deflection. The history of violence, oppression, and moral corruption committed in the name of religion is real. The Inquisition was real. The sexual abuse of children by religious institutions was real. The use of religious authority to suppress dissent, maintain unjust hierarchies, and prevent moral progress was real. The treatment of apostates and heretics and religious minorities across centuries was real.

These things happened. They were wrong. Anyone who takes them seriously is being morally serious rather than anti-religious.

The argument it produces

The argument from harm is typically structured this way: religion has caused immense harm; therefore religion is false, or at least not worth engaging with. Sometimes it is stated as the Hitchens challenge: name one moral action that a religious person can perform that a non-religious person cannot, and name one genuinely evil action that religion has uniquely enabled.

The first half of the Hitchens challenge is easy to meet: there is no moral action exclusive to believers. The second half is more interesting. Religion has enabled certain kinds of organised violence and oppression that might not have taken the same form without religious justification. The observation is probably true. The observation does not reach what it is supposed to prove.

The two questions

The argument from harm conflates two different questions. The first is historical and sociological: have religious institutions caused harm? The answer is clearly yes. The second is metaphysical: does God exist? The answer to the first question has no direct bearing on the second.

Consider the parallel. Science has enabled nuclear weapons, chemical warfare, and surveillance technologies of enormous harm. The scientific method has been used to justify eugenics, vivisection, and the Tuskegee experiments. None of this constitutes evidence that the laws of physics are false or that empirical inquiry should be abandoned. The abuse of a method or a tradition does not refute its foundational claims.

The corrupt judge does not disprove the law. The dishonest accountant does not disprove mathematics. The harmful use of religious authority does not disprove the existence of God.

The Quranic standard

The objection from harm is partly an objection to a religion that licenses cruelty. The Quranic position on the killing of an innocent human life is unambiguous:

مَن قَتَلَ نَفْسًۢا بِغَيْرِ نَفْسٍ أَوْ فَسَادٍ فِى ٱلْأَرْضِ فَكَأَنَّمَا قَتَلَ ٱلنَّاسَ جَمِيعًا وَمَنْ أَحْيَاهَا فَكَأَنَّمَآ أَحْيَا ٱلنَّاسَ جَمِيعًا ﴿٣٢﴾
“Whoever kills a soul, unless for a soul or for corruption in the land, it is as though he had killed all of humanity. Whoever saves a life, it is as though he had saved all of humanity.”
— Sūrat al-Māʾidah 5:32

The verse establishes the cosmic weight of a single human life. The killing of one innocent person is treated, in moral terms, as the killing of all humanity. The standard is the standard the Islamic tradition is committed to. Acts of violence committed in Islam’s name that fall outside the verse’s exceptions (legal retribution for murder or for the causing of serious corruption in society, both subject to extensive legal constraints in the tradition’s developed jurisprudence) are violations of the standard, not expressions of it.

The Quran requires that justice be upheld even when the cost falls on the believer’s own community:

يَـٰٓأَيُّهَا ٱلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ كُونُوا۟ قَوَّٰمِينَ بِٱلْقِسْطِ شُهَدَآءَ لِلَّهِ وَلَوْ عَلَىٰٓ أَنفُسِكُمْ ﴿١٣٥﴾
“O you who believe, stand firmly for justice as witnesses for God, even against yourselves.”
— Sūrat al-Nisāʾ 4:135

The instruction to stand for justice against one’s own self, family, and community is the structural feature that makes the tradition self-correcting. The Muslim who participates in injustice committed by other Muslims is in violation of this verse. The objection from harm therefore has a witness inside the tradition itself, in the form of the verses the tradition treats as binding on every adherent. The Muslim who reads the Quran carefully has a duty to recognise and resist the harm done in Islam’s name.

The Prophetic standard

The Prophet ﷺ established a juridical principle that has shaped Islamic legal thought for fourteen centuries:

لَا ضَرَرَ وَلَا ضِرَارَ
“There shall be no harm and no reciprocal harm.”
Sunan Ibn Mājah 2341; al-Muwaṭṭaʾ of Mālik 31:31

The hadith is one of the foundational maxims of Islamic jurisprudence and is invoked across the entire body of Islamic law. The principle that harm must be removed and not introduced applies at every level: in personal conduct, in commercial transactions, in family relations, in public administration. A religious tradition organised around this principle is not a tradition that licenses the harms its critics rightly identify. The harms occurred when the tradition’s adherents departed from the principle, not when they followed it.

The harm of atheism

It is also worth noting, as a corrective to selective history rather than as a counter-charge, that the twentieth century’s most systematic and industrialised violence was carried out by explicitly atheist regimes. The observation does not establish that atheism causes violence. The observation does establish that the argument “religion causes harm, therefore reject religion” proves too much, when applied consistently: the same structure of argument would condemn atheism on equally good historical grounds.

Violence has human causes. It is caused by the will to power, by tribalism, by the willingness to dehumanise those who differ from us. These motivations predate religion, survive its absence, and attach themselves to whatever ideological framework provides the most effective justification. Religion is one such framework. Nationalism is another. Ideology is another. Removing any one of them does not remove the underlying causes.

What the objection correctly identifies

The objection from harm correctly identifies that religious authority can be abused, that the gap between religious ideals and religious practice is sometimes vast, and that uncritical deference to religious institutions carries real moral risks. These are important observations. They are arguments for moral vigilance within religious traditions, rather than arguments against the traditions themselves, and they are not arguments about the metaphysical question of whether God exists.

The case here does not end with vague spirituality. It points toward a Creator whose unity makes sense of the order of the world, the reliability of reason, and the moral seriousness of human life. Islam takes that line of thought and sharpens it.

Harm done in the name of religion is a violation of tawḥīd, not an expression of it. If God is the source of all moral value, then cruelty committed in His name is a form of shirk (associating human ego, cultural prejudice, and the will to power with the authority of the divine). The question is whether the thing itself (tawḥīd, revelation, moral accountability) is true, not whether people have done terrible things while claiming to represent God. That question is answered by evidence, not by the behaviour of its worst adherents.

Religion has caused harm. So has science, politics, nationalism, and every other framework through which human beings have organised their lives. The question is whether the harm is essential to the thing or incidental to its misuse. Tawḥīd, the principle that God alone is the source of authority and that all human power is derivative and accountable, is the strongest possible safeguard against the abuse of religious authority. The harm done in Islam’s name was done in violation of tawḥīd, not in fulfilment of it.