expressed in Arabic in such a case as follows: ‘Provided that, if any of them dies, even if he has a child, his share shall pass to the members of his tier.’ Or he could say: ‘Provided that, if any of them dies, even if he has no child,’ thus including the conjunction.”

But if he says, “Provided that, if any of them dies leaving no child,” this explicitly establishes a restriction and admits no other interpretation. Whoever imagines otherwise, considers it even remotely possible, or considers it possible for a rational person to accept such an interpretation, has undoubtedly forfeited the blessing Allah bestowed upon mankind when He taught them expression. I do not think that, left to his innate disposition, he would imagine such a thing. Yet innate dispositions may suffer corrupting influences that impair their soundness, as the hadiths declare.

Another argument is that a rational person does not exclude a remote possibility by introducing a more apparent one. Clearly, had the founder omitted this condition, the possibility of a lapse would have been exceedingly remote: it either contradicts scholarly consensus or ranks among discredited juristic opinions. Once the condition is mentioned, however, restriction and an ordered distribution become a strong possibility—an apparent meaning even according to the disputant, and a conclusive one according to others. How, then, can the founder’s words be interpreted as following a blameworthy course rather than a commendable one, when the latter interpretation is possible?

Another argument is that only some jurists would notice this possibility; perhaps it has only recently arisen in Islamic history. The possibility of restriction, however, is a feature of language that existed before Islam. How, then, can the words of an earlier founder be understood as guarding against a possibility that does not