by Dr. Ildus Rafikov
The Qur’an condemns ribā in strongest terms, but the discourse surrounding it has often remained narrowly focused on its economic expression as interest on loans or unequal exchange in sales. While this reductionist view may serve legal or transactional purposes, it risks missing the Qur’an’s broader teleological warning against an entire system of economic and moral imbalance. Ribā, in its Qur’anic usage, must be understood not merely as a financial tool, but as a symptom and symbol of deeper epistemological, ontological, and civilizational distortions. This essay explores the concept of ribā as a dynamic system of injustice that disturbs the divine balance (mīzān), and opposes the objectives of Revelation (maqāṣid al-waḥy), particularly those aiming toward justice, mercy, cooperation, mutual growth, and the flourishing of human life on earth.

Linguistically, the term ribā comes from the root r-b-w, which denotes increase, excess, or swelling. The Qur’an does not object to all forms of increase—indeed, increase in wealth, knowledge, and goodness are often praised. What is condemned is the kind of increase that is unearned, exploitative, and leads to asymmetrical gain: a swelling that disfigures rather than nourishes. This is why the Qur’an contrasts ribā with zakat, the former described as devoid of blessing, and the latter as that which grows with Allah’s pleasure. “What you give as ribā, to increase the wealth of people, does not increase with Allah. But what you give as zakat, seeking the Face of Allah, it is they who will be increased manifold” (30:39).
The problem of ribā, then, is not increase per se, but the logic of increase through dispossession. It represents a pattern of extraction in which one party benefits at the direct expense of another. In financial terms, it is the creditor gaining regardless of the debtor’s losses. But beyond finance, ribā exists wherever the strong profit from the vulnerability of the weak, where gains are privatized and losses are socialized, where systems are built to advantage some while disempowering others. It is a dynamic of parasitism dressed as productivity.
This systemic asymmetry violates the mīzān, the balance which Allah says He established in all things. “And the sky He raised high, and He set up the balance. That you may not transgress the balance” (55:7-8). To commit ribā is to transgress the mīzān, to create economic structures and social relations that favor unlimited gain without mutual responsibility. It converts the economy from a medium of cooperation and mutual enrichment into a battlefield of consumption and domination. The Qur’an does not see the economy as neutral; it is either aligned with divine justice or opposed to it.
When we study the ayats that mention ribā, such as in Surah Al-Baqarah (2:275-281), we observe not only a condemnation but a confrontation. The Qur’an identifies ribā not only as a moral deficiency but also as an act of defiance against Allah and His Messenger. “If you do not give up what remains of ribā, then be warned of war from Allah and His Messenger” (2:279). Why such severity? Because ribā, in its deeper sense, constitutes a rebellion against the divine structure of cooperation, moderation, and interdependence. It threatens to replace the divinely-inspired logic of trust and gratitude with a crude calculation of riskless profit and commodified relationships.
This view of ribā as systemic imbalance helps us understand the pairing of economic and moral terms throughout the Qur’an. Trade is permissible, ribā is not. Charity increases, ribā corrupts. Trust (amānah), gratitude (shukr), and mutual consultation (shurā) are values associated with the divinely-inspired moral economy, whereas greed, arrogance, and hoarding are traits that accompany the ribā-based paradigm. These contrasts are not binary for simplicity’s sake, but part of a deeper ontological structure where everything is interconnected—actions, intentions, systems, feedbacks and outcomes. This prohibition is not unique to Islam. The rejection of usury can be found across all major religious traditions: Judaism, Christianity, Zoroastrianism, and others each condemned the practice of charging interest as a grave moral and social wrongdoing. In the Biblical tradition, interest-taking was viewed as exploitation of the poor, a sin against the covenantal ethic of care. In early Christian teachings, it was forbidden for centuries. Rabbinic Judaism also prohibited usury among fellow Jews. These prohibitions reflected a universal moral intuition: that monetizing need and turning vulnerability into profit erodes social cohesion and justice. Historically, ribā became tolerated only when systemic corruption—political, economic, and ideological—began to override the ethical foundations of those civilizations. Thus, the Qur’an’s prohibition is not an isolated stance but a reaffirmation of a long-standing, divinely inspired consensus that ribā is a moral poison to any healthy society.
The Qur’an invites us to look beyond the immediate legality of transactions and examine the web of relationships they produce. This is a dynamic systems approach, where cause and effect are not linear but circular or self-reinforcing. Ribā may start with a contract between two parties, but its consequences ripple outward into society: increasing inequality, fueling resentment, creating class stratification, destroying trust, and eventually destabilizing entire civilizations. Thus, ribā is not simply prohibited because it is unjust; it is prohibited because it unleashes systemic forces that undermine the very fabric of a just and cohesive society. In this regard, it resembles lying: a seemingly small falsehood can trigger a cascade of additional lies to maintain the illusion, expanding like a snowball until it results in a spiral of deception that corrupts the soul and erodes trust within the entire community.
Seen in this light, ribā is not merely about interest rates or usury, but about any form of unjust increase, any asymmetric transaction that prioritizes accumulation over balance, and control over cooperation. It includes exploitative labor systems, monopolistic pricing, speculative financial instruments, and even knowledge production that reinforces elite control while denying access to others. Wherever there is gain for one at the engineered loss of another, ribā is present in spirit, even if not in name.
This brings us to a crucial insight: ribā is not only economic; it is civilizational. It represents a paradigm in which the goal is endless expansion for one small powerful group of people against the powerless majority, detached from ethics, disconnected from the consequences on people and planet. In such a world, the future is mortgaged, communities are disintegrated, and nature is ravaged—all to feed the illusion of limitless growth. The Qur’an addresses this issue through the principles of ṣadaqah (charity) and infāq (spending) in the path of Allah, which represent a model of collective development and growth.
From a maqāṣid al-Qur’ān perspective, the prohibition of ribā is not an isolated command but part of a broader divine objective to establish a just, compassionate, and cooperative society. It serves the higher purposes of preserving human dignity, ensuring equity, fostering trust, and enabling holistic development. To tolerate ribā is to undermine these goals; to resist it is to align oneself with the divine will for a just and balanced world.
In light of this, the command to avoid ribā is integrally connected to other Qur’anic commands: to be just in measure and weight, to honor contracts, to care for the poor and the orphan, to avoid hoarding or any type of excess (whether miserliness or overconsumption), to spend in the way of Allah, to forgive debts, and to promote social cohesion. These interconnected commands form a unified moral economy in which the material and the spiritual, the individual and the collective, are woven together in an ethical web of relationships. This integrated vision aligns with the divine purpose for humanity to build a flourishing and balanced civilization on earth (‘imārat al-arḍ), one that nurtures harmony and upholds the ties that Allah has commanded not to be severed. Violations such as ribā disrupt this balance and fragment these vital connections, weakening the social fabric and diverting human effort from its true purpose.
Ribā is thus not only an economic injustice but a distortion of divine guidance, a rejection of tawḥīd in the realm of social relations. It represents the denial of interdependence and a claim of self-sufficiency that contradicts the Creator’s norms of cooperation, mutuality, and mercy. This self-sufficiency is described in the Qur’an as Istighnā’ (96:7), a dangerous illusion of independence that blinds one to the reality of divine dependence. Istighnā’ is not merely arrogance; it is the very essence of disbelief (kufr), a refusal to acknowledge one’s dependence on God and others. Ribā, therefore, is more than a financial injustice—it embodies a spiritual pathology that undermines the essence of human purpose. By analyzing ribā in this interconnected, dynamic way, we move beyond superficial debates and toward a deeper recognition that economic justice is inseparable from spiritual alignment.
As we confront global systems marked by inequality, conflict, enmity, ecological degradation, and social fragmentation, the Qur’anic wisdom on ribā offers both diagnosis and direction—provided that the Qur’an is read holistically and in an interconnected manner. Its guidance is not fragmented but woven through a coherent moral vision that illuminates the roots of systemic injustice and the pathways toward societal healing and divine alignment. It reveals how distorted economic relations are symptoms of deeper moral and epistemological crises, and it calls us back to a life of balance, generosity, and trust in the provision of the Sustainer. To truly abandon ribā is not just to refuse interest-based contracts, but to reimagine our entire mode of exchange, our definitions of value, and our structures of power. This is not a call for anarchy, public disobedience, or revolution, but a call to change the mindset—first at the individual level and then collectively as communities—toward a God-conscious, just, and cooperative way of life.
To build an economy free of ribā is not merely a technical or financial task. It is an ethical and civilizational project, grounded in the Qur’an’s vision of mīzān, guided by the objectives of Revelation, and animated by the values of trust, cooperation, and shared prosperity. In this light, the Qur’anic prohibition of ribā is not a constraint, but an invitation: to co-create a world in which growth is just, wealth is a trust, and every transaction is a step toward the good life—al-ḥayāt al-tayyibah.