Presented by Zia H Shah MD

Abstract

European legal history traditionally emphasizes Roman and Germanic roots for English common law, yet an emerging body of scholarship explores profound Islamic influences on key common law institutions during the medieval period. This essay synthesizes historical and comparative research – notably the pioneering work of Professor John A. Makdisi – to examine how several foundational concepts of English common law in the 12th century mirror earlier doctrines of Islamic law. We discuss parallels between the English trust and the Islamic waqf (charitable endowment), the common law contract (especially the action of debt) and the Islamic aqd (contract), property protections like the assize of novel disseisin and the Islamic istihqāq (recovery of usurped property), as well as procedural and institutional resemblances including the passive role of the judge (as in the Islamic qāḍī), the jury trial and the Islamic lafīf (twelve-member jury-like body in Mālikī jurisprudence), and even legal educational structures (England’s Inns of Court and the Islamic madrasas). These uncanny similarities, many of which had no obvious precedent in prior European practice, suggest that Norman England – through channels such as Norman Sicily, the Crusades, and al-Andalus – may have borrowed legal ideas from Islamic jurisdictions. We present specific examples of such cross-cultural legal exchange, supported by historical evidence and scholarly analyses. While direct proof of transmission is elusive and the extent of Islamic influence remains a subject of debate, the coherence of these parallels indicates more than coincidence. Islamic law’s sophisticated doctrines of contracts, trusts, property rights, and procedure provided useful models for a developing English legal system that was, by comparison, relatively rudimentary in the 12th centurythemuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info. This paper underscores that medieval Islamic jurisprudence likely played a significant role – often underappreciated – in shaping common law concepts, illustrating a remarkable episode of legal diffusion across religious and cultural boundaries.

Introduction

The origins of English common law have long been shrouded in mystery. When King Henry II began to formalize the common law in the 12th century, he introduced legal institutions that were unprecedented in England and distinct from the prevailing civil-law norms of continental Europethemuslimtimes.info. How did the common law come to embrace novel concepts such as property transfer by mere agreement, possession as a form of ownership, and the right to trial by jury? Traditional histories attribute the development of common law to a mix of indigenous Anglo-Norman customs and the influence of Roman and canon law. However, as Professor John Makdisi observes, the common law’s distinctive pattern “strongly suggests the dominating influence of a single preexisting legal tradition rather than a patchwork” of European sourcesthemuslimtimes.info. Makdisi’s provocative thesis, first articulated in his 1999 North Carolina Law Review article “The Islamic Origins of the Common Law,” is that the missing influence may well be medieval Islamic lawthemuslimtimes.info.

Makdisi and others argue that Norman England had opportunities to learn from the sophisticated Islamic legal system, which by the 12th century was far more developed than England’s. Key Norman leaders and scholars were exposed to Islamic law through channels like Norman-ruled Sicily, which had recently inherited an Arab-Islamic administration, as well as through contacts in Crusader states and Islamic Spain (al-Andalus)themuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info. During this era of heightened cross-cultural exchange, English law adopted several concepts that appear strikingly similar to Islamic legal doctrines. This essay will explore those parallels in detail – covering trusts and charitable endowments, contracts and commercial law, property rights in land, judicial procedures, the jury system, and legal education. In each area, we will outline the English common law development and its Islamic analogue, drawing on comparative scholarship and historical records.

It is important at the outset to acknowledge that direct documentary proof of Islamic-to-English legal transmission is scarce. Medieval jurists did not explicitly cite Islamic sources, and the idea of learning law from a Muslim system would likely have been politically sensitive in Christian Europe. Thus, the case for influence rests on circumstantial evidence: chronological precedence of Islamic institutions, close similarities in function and structure, and plausible routes of transmission. The notion of Islamic influence on common law was once controversial, but it has gained credence through the works of Makdisi and other scholars (e.g. Monica Gaudiosi, Gamal Moursi Badr, and Paul Brand). Similarities alone do not prove borrowing, as critics cautiontulanelawreview.org. However, when multiple core institutions of early common law find earlier counterparts in Islamic jurisprudence – and when historical connections existed between England and the Islamic world – the likelihood of meaningful influence increases. As we shall see, many of the “revolutionary” legal concepts of Henry II’s reign fit into known Islamic legal patternsthemuslimtimes.info. By examining these in turn, we gain insight into how medieval Europe’s legal evolution was enriched by Islamic ideas, even as the common law later developed its own character. In the end, while the general consensus remains cautious about the extent of direct borrowing, there is growing appreciation that Islamic law contributed to the intellectual repertoire from which English common law was drawnthemuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info. This cross-cultural perspective not only revises our understanding of legal history but also highlights the universality and exchange of legal thought across civilizations.

(Next, we proceed to analyze specific areas of influence, each under its own heading, followed by an epilogue and a bibliography.)

Historical Context: Cross-Cultural Contact and Transmission Routes

To understand how Islamic legal concepts could have entered English common law, it is essential to outline the historical contact points between the English/Norman world and the Islamic world during the Middle Ages. Three major routes of transmission stand out: Norman Sicily, the Crusades (Levant), and Muslim Spain (al-Andalus). These were regions of intensive cultural and intellectual exchange where Europeans encountered Islamic governance and law.

Norman Sicily (12th Century): The Kingdom of Sicily under the Norman King Roger II (r. 1130–1154) was a melting pot of Latin, Greek, and Arab influences. The Normans (originally of Viking descent) had conquered the formerly Muslim-ruled island of Sicily, but rather than dismantling the existing administration, Roger II and his successors retained many Arab Muslim officials and adopted Islamic bureaucratic practicesthemuslimtimes.info. The Norman Sicilian court employed Arabic as an administrative language and maintained Islamic-style courts for the Muslim population. This created a unique Norman-Arab culture in which Norman rulers became intimately familiar with Islamic institutions (a phenomenon often termed “Arab-Norman culture”themuslimtimes.info).

Crucially, Sicily provided a direct link between Islamic law and Norman England. Historians note a “close connection” between Roger II’s court and that of Henry II of Englandthemuslimtimes.info. One concrete example is Thomas Brown, an Englishman who served as an official (likely in the Exchequer) under King Henry II. Thomas Brown had previously worked under the diwan (administrative and fiscal office) of the Norman Kingdom of Sicily, thereby gaining first-hand knowledge of Islamic governancethepowerofnarratives.com. When he returned to England to work for Henry II, Brown would have been in a position to advise on administrative and legal reforms. As one account notes, Henry II’s introduction of the jury system was “likely influenced by his exchequer, Thomas Brown, who formerly worked under the diwan of the Kingdom of Sicily which had recently conquered the Emirate of Sicily and incorporated Islamic government and legal systems into their procedures”thepowerofnarratives.com. This suggests a human conduit for legal ideas: Norman administrators shuttling between Sicily and England could transfer concepts such as the lafīf (Islamic jury) or bureaucratic practices like written records and trusts.

The Crusades (12th–13th Centuries): The Crusader expeditions to the Holy Land (1095–1291) brought thousands of Europeans into prolonged contact with the Muslim societies of the Eastern Mediterranean. While the primary aim of crusaders (such as the Knights Templar, Knights Hospitaller, and other orders) was military and religious, their presence in the Levant exposed them to advanced Islamic commercial and financial practices. The Knights Templar, in particular, became famous not only as warriors but as pioneering bankers facilitating the flow of money between Europe and Outremer. By the mid-12th century, the Templars operated a system whereby a pilgrim or crusader could deposit funds in London or Paris and withdraw them in Jerusalem using letters of credit – effectively an early form of international bankingbigthink.combigthink.com. A BBC commentator aptly called the Templar’s Temple Church in London “the Western Union of the crusades”bigthink.com. This concept of letters of credit and financial transfer was not invented wholly by the Templars; it closely resembles the Islamic financial instrument of ḥawāla, an informal funds transfer system that had existed in the Muslim world for centuries. (Indeed, the Arabic word ḥawāla means “transfer,” and under Islamic law it allowed creditors to be paid by third parties, a practice unfamiliar in earlier Roman law.) The Templars likely learned from or at least mirrored Islamic banking techniques, given that such methods were already widespread in places like Cairo, Damascus, and Baghdad during the Crusades. Through the Templars and other crusaders, advanced financial contracts and credit practices were transplanted back to Europe – for example, the very idea of a bank check or note (sakk in Arabic, root of the English word “cheque”) has Islamic precedents. As one historian notes, by enabling pilgrims to travel without carrying gold, the Templars’ system “played a crucial role in the development of Europe’s financial systems”bigthink.com, and it did so by building on older models (the article points out that similar instruments had existed in 7th-century China as wellbigthink.com, and Islamic civilization had its own versions). Crusaders also encountered Islamic legal institutions in the Crusader States (like the Kingdom of Jerusalem) and sometimes administered cities with mixed populations, potentially learning from the local qāḍīs (judges) and courts. While crusaders were more focused on warfare, the cultural exchange was inevitable – returning crusaders and pilgrims brought back not only souvenirs but also ideas and words from the Middle East.

Al-Andalus (Islamic Spain): For over seven centuries (711–1492), parts of the Iberian Peninsula were ruled by Muslims, and even the Christian kingdoms in Spain and Portugal interacted heavily with their Muslim neighbors. By the High Middle Ages, Islamic Spain was a center of learning that had already influenced Europe in fields like science, medicine, and philosophy. Legal ideas were no exception. Concepts of public trusteeship, municipal governance, and trade regulations filtered into Christian Spain during the Reconquista. One telling example is the medieval Spanish law code Siete Partidas (completed in 1265 under King Alfonso X of Castile), which, scholars have found, incorporated elements from Islamic jurisprudencethemuslimtimes.info. The Siete Partidas drew upon earlier Andalusian Islamic treatises such as Fiqh compendia and even a legal text called Villiyet from Islamic Spainthemuslimtimes.info. These influences, transmitted via Latin translations and convivencia (coexistence) in cities like Toledo, contributed to European legal thought. Indeed, the law of evidence and presumptions saw Islamic influence: the principle of presumption of innocence was strongly emphasized in Islamic law since the 7th-century Caliph ʿUmar’s declaration, and notably King Louis IX of France adopted that principle in the 13th century after returning from Crusadethemuslimtimes.info. Moreover, the lexicon of law and administration in Iberia became suffused with Arabic terms. As we will detail in a later section, words such as alcalde (from Arabic al-qāḍī, meaning judge, now meaning a mayor or magistrate in Spanish) and aduana (customs office, from Arabic dīwān) entered Spanish and then other European languagesarabnews.com. Through scholars like Francisco de Vitoria (16th c.), who was familiar with writings influenced by Islamic jurisprudence, and Hugo Grotius (17th c.), elements of Islamic legal philosophy (for example, in international law and just war theory) indirectly reached the foundations of modern European lawthemuslimtimes.info.

In summary, medieval Europe was not an isolated world; it had multiple points of contact with Islamic civilization, which at that time boasted one of the world’s most sophisticated legal systems. Norman Sicily provided a governmental and judicial model, the Crusades provided commercial and financial models, and al-Andalus provided intellectual and linguistic contributions. Against this backdrop, it becomes plausible that English common law – forged in the 12th and 13th centuries – absorbed Islamic influences in its formative stage. As Professor Makdisi writes, “one cannot forget the opportunity for the transplant of these [legal] mechanisms from Islam through Sicily to Norman England in the twelfth century”themuslimtimes.info. With this context in mind, we now turn to specific areas of the common law and their Islamic counterparts.

The Trust and Charitable Endowments (Waqf and Trust Law)

One of the most intriguing parallels between Islamic law and English common law lies in the institution of the trust. The trust – a legal arrangement where one party holds property for the benefit of another – is often thought of as a uniquely English creation of medieval equity. However, scholars have pointed to the Islamic waqf (plural awqāf) as a potential model for the English trust. A waqf is an endowment of property (often real estate) under Islamic law, typically made for charitable or religious purposes, with the stipulation that the property be held in perpetuity and its benefits used for a designated purpose (such as supporting a mosque, school, hospital, or the poor). The concept of waqf was well-established in the Islamic world by the 9th century, nearly three centuries before the emergence of the English trust in the 12th–13th centuriesthemuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info.

The structural similarities between waqf and trust are striking. In both, the original owner (the founder or “settlor”) separates the legal ownership and the beneficial interest: the property is managed by a trustee (called mutawallī in the waqf system) and the profits or benefits are devoted to a beneficiary or purpose designated by the founder. Both institutions tend to be enforceable in perpetuity (indeed waqf property is inalienable and cannot be sold, similar to how trust property can be tied up long-term under a charitable trust). Both served as ways to provide for long-term public or family benefits outside the normal rules of inheritance – an important workaround in societies where inheritance laws or feudal rules might fragment estates.

According to legal historian Monica M. Gaudiosi, at least one early English trust bears a strong resemblance to a waqf. Gaudiosi’s influential 1988 study, “The Influence of the Islamic Law of Waqf on the Development of the Trust in England: The Case of Merton College,” examines the founding of Merton College, Oxford in 1264 by Walter de Mertonhonors.libraries.psu.eduhonors.libraries.psu.edu. Merton College was established as a self-governing charitable house where certain properties were set aside to fund the education of scholars – effectively an educational trust. Gaudiosi notes that Walter de Merton had connections to the Knights Templarhonors.libraries.psu.edu, the crusading order that, as mentioned, was active in the Holy Land and familiar with Middle Eastern institutions. The original 1264 trust deed for Merton College has “parallels with the waqf” systemislamicity.org. Just as a waqf would dedicate property in perpetuity for, say, a madrasa (Islamic college) or hospital, Walter de Merton’s deed set aside lands whose rents would forever support the college and its scholars. In both cases, there is an idea of a charitable foundation managed by appointed guardians for the benefit of a class of beneficiaries (students, poor persons, etc.) without the property ever reverting to private ownership.

Other scholars agree that the waqf is the closest analog to the English trust. A Tulane Law Review comment on the trust’s origins outlines four theories – Roman, Germanic, hybrid, and Islamic – and concludes that “if an outside paradigm for the English use [trust] is to be located, the Islamic waqf’s parallel structure and historical proximity indicate that it was the waqf which most prominently influenced the development of the use”tulanelawreview.orgtulanelawreview.org. The author, Avisheh Avini, demonstrates that the Franciscan friars returning from the Crusades in the 13th century were likely instrumental in importing the waqf concept to Englandtulanelawreview.org. Franciscans (a mendicant religious order) had seen the waqf in action in the Holy Land – for example, endowments that supported hospitals and poor relief in Jerusalem or Acre – and they adapted this “device” to support their own religious and educational missions in Europetulanelawreview.org. The English “use” (an early form of trust) emerged in this period, and its purpose – to allow one person to hold property for the use of another (often to get around feudal rules or to ensure a steady income for a religious or charitable purpose) – strongly echoes the waqf. Avini goes so far as to state that the waqf and trust “are so parallel in purpose, theory, and structure that it can hardly be accidental” that one inspired the othertulanelawreview.org.

The modus operandi of waqf also illuminates why such an institution would appeal in medieval England. Under Islamic law, once a waqf is established, the property is “locked” as a charitable asset – it cannot be sold or inherited, and must be managed according to the founder’s stipulations (usually for community benefit). This was a powerful way to preserve family wealth or serve public good beyond one’s lifetime, at a time when otherwise property would be divided among heirs or confiscated by rulers. English nobles and clergymen faced similar concerns: the common law of the 13th century had rigid rules (e.g. mortmain laws restricting land donations to the Church, feudal incidents on inheritance, etc.). The trust or use allowed workarounds: land could be held by feoffees (trustees) for the benefit of, say, a monastery or one’s children, circumventing feudal fees. It is plausible that hearing of the waqf’s success in Islamic lands inspired the English to formalize their own version.

Terminology and Linguistic Evidence: While the word “trust” is English and waqf is Arabic, there are intriguing linguistic crossovers in related terms. For instance, the Crusaders encountered the concept of agency in Islamic law – an agent ( wakīl in Arabic) could be appointed to manage someone’s affairs or property. Islamic law had a developed notion of agency in commerce and charity, something “unknown to Roman law”themuslimtimes.info (Roman law did not easily allow one person to act on behalf of another in a binding way). The English trust inherently involved agency (trustees acting on behalf of beneficiaries). Some scholars like Gamal Moursi Badr caution that similarities do not prove borrowing, but even Badr acknowledged that Islamic law and common law share a flexibility and pragmatism in developing such institutions outside of strict Roman conceptsreligion.fandom.com. Badr notes that Islamic law, like common law, “is not a written law” codified in a single text, and much of it comes from juristic interpretation – hence Islamic law could “be called a lawyers’ law if common law is a judges’ law”religion.fandom.com. In other words, both systems were innovative and adaptable, capable of creating new doctrines (like trusts) to meet social needs.

Direct Historical Evidence: The most tangible link between waqf and trust in historical records is the case of Merton College. Dr. Paul Brand, a noted historian of English law, has pointed out the parallels between the waqf and the trust used to establish Merton Collegeen.wikipedia.org. The Merton College statutes provided for appointed “fellows” to manage the endowed lands for the college’s educational mission, much as a waqf would be managed by mutawallīs for its beneficiaries. However, Brand is cautious about assuming a direct imitation of Muslim practice. He notes that the Knights Templar, despite their presence in the Middle East, were “primarily concerned with fighting the Muslims rather than learning from them,” which could make direct knowledge of legal institutions like waqf less likelyen.wikipedia.org. This skepticism highlights that while the structural similarity is real, the path of transmission may be indirect or coincidental. It could be that the English arrived at the trust concept independently by solving similar problems (i.e. how to dedicate property for long-term purposes). Yet, the timeline suggests more than coincidence: the trust emerges in England after significant Holy Land contact, and the earliest trusts (like those for crusader orders or universities) align with what crusaders would have seen.

Another piece of evidence is the continuity in usage: The term “use” (from which the modern trust evolved) became common in England soon after the Crusades. Some have posited that returning crusaders (for example, the Franciscan friars as Avini argues) directly brought knowledge of the waqf. The Franciscan order had custodians in the Holy Land who certainly observed Islamic charitable endowments (many Islamic waqfs were supporting hospitals and soup kitchens that even Christian pilgrims benefitted from). In the 13th century, Franciscans and other clergy might have recommended similar endowment structures to pious nobles back home. Indeed, an early use of a trust-like arrangement was by Crusader knights to provide for their families or souls while they were abroad. They would leave land with a trusted friend (effectively a trustee) to administer for the benefit of the knight’s family or a church, anticipating a possible death in combat. This mirrors waqf insofar as the property is managed for the beneficiaries not the nominal title-holder.

In sum, the Islamic waqf offers a compelling antecedent for the English trust. Both emerged to address the same need: ensuring the ongoing benefit of property for certain purposes beyond the immediate reach of standard law. The cross-pollination thesis is supported by strong parallels in concept and timing, and by scholars like Makdisi, Gaudiosi, and Avini who argue for Islamic influencethemuslimtimes.infotulanelawreview.org. While absolute proof remains elusive and some, like Brand, urge caution, the case of the trust/waqf illustrates how Islamic legal ideas could fill gaps in English law. Even terms of administration and some financial tools (like the use of written instructions for trustees, akin to waqf deeds) were arguably learned by example from the Muslim world. The trust would go on to become a cornerstone of Anglo-American law, but its roots may lie in the pious endowments of early Islamic civilization.

Contract Law and Commercial Instruments (The Islamic ʿAqd, Qirād, and Ḥawāla in Common Law)

Another area where English common law made a radical departure from prior European norms is contract law – specifically, the notion that a simple agreement (offer and acceptance) can transfer property rights or create binding obligations even without formal delivery or ritual. Under early medieval European practice (influenced by Germanic custom), contracts, especially for sale or debt, often required an oath, a ceremony, or the physical handing over of an object (symbolic delivery) to be binding. Roman law, while advanced in obligations, typically required certain formalities (and in Roman law, ownership did not pass until delivery, even if a contract of sale was made). Yet in 12th-century England, a transformative legal action emerged: the action of debt in royal courts, which enforced promises to pay or deliver goods based solely on proof of a consensual agreement. As Makdisi highlights, “for the first time in English history, contract law permitted the transfer of property ownership on the sole basis of offer and acceptance” – i.e. mere words – through the action of debtthemuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info. This was a revolutionary concept in the West: words alone (verbal or written contract) could convey ownership or create a duty to pay. Where could such an idea have come from?

Islamic law provides a clear precedent: the law of ʿaqd (contract) in Islam had, from the religion’s early centuries (7th–8th century), allowed binding contracts based on offer and acceptance (ījāb and qabūl) uttered in a single session, without need for additional formalities. In Islamic commercial law, a sale (bayʿ) is concluded by a proposal and acceptance, and upon that agreement, ownership of the sold property transfers to the buyer and the seller becomes entitled to the price – no separate delivery act is needed for the transfer of ownership, it is effected by the contract itself (though obviously the goods should be delivered as a practical matter). This is exactly the principle that puzzled historians of common law: “where did we get the idea that contract transfers property ownership by words and not by delivery?” as Makdisi asksthemuslimtimes.info. The Islamic answer is clear – it was a standard notion in Islamic jurisprudence, centuries before Henry II.

Let us delve deeper into the English action of debt and the Islamic ʿaqd to see the correspondence. The action of debt in 12th-century England allowed a person (creditor) to sue another (debtor) for a fixed sum or a specific quantity of goods owed. For example, if A agreed to sell cloth to B for £5, and B didn’t pay or A didn’t deliver, the wronged party could use the royal court’s action of debt to enforce the agreement. According to legal treatises like Glanvill (circa 1188), one needed to show that a debt was “owed” (debita) by virtue of an agreement or undertaking. Notably, Glanvill’s treatise describes debt in terms quite similar to Islamic contracts: an obligation arises at the moment of contract formation, and failure to perform (e.g. deliver the goods) is essentially a breach that discharges the other party’s dutyffcolaws.wordpress.comffcolaws.wordpress.com. Glanvill even grappled with questions like whether the delivery of goods was a condition precedent or subsequent to the obligation – ultimately implying that the contract itself creates a mutual obligation, and delivery is a follow-upffcolaws.wordpress.comffcolaws.wordpress.com. This aligns with Islamic contract doctrine, where the contract (“ʿaqd”) is defined as the legal bond that creates obligations and rights at once.

Makdisi’s comparative study found that earlier European systems did not view contract that way: Roman law required traditio (delivery) for ownership to pass; Germanic law often needed oaths or witnesses at the moment of contract; Canon law had its own rules about intention and consent but didn’t directly create secular property rights. In contrast, the Islamic law of contracts was a fully developed consensual system. Makdisi identifies the English action of debt with the Islamic ʿaqd, noting their conceptual identitythemuslimtimes.info. A recent summary of Makdisi’s findings confirms: “there are strong similarities between the Islamic law of contract and its counterpart in common law, with the principle of ‘something for something’ existing in both and the same objective of equality in enforcement of contract”ffcolaws.wordpress.com. Both systems, unlike Roman law, allowed the transfer of ownership at the point of conjunction of offer and acceptance and placed the risk of loss on the seller until deliveryffcolaws.wordpress.com. These are hallmark Islamic rules: in a valid sale, if the goods are destroyed after the sale but before delivery, the loss is typically the seller’s (since the buyer hasn’t received them – similar to common law’s later rule that risk passes with possession unless otherwise agreed).

One illuminating comparison is how English common law and Islamic law treat the sale of goods versus Roman law. In Roman law, if you sold me a sack of grain, I didn’t legally own that grain until it was delivered; a mere contract of sale gave me a personal right, not ownership. If the grain perished before delivery, the seller (who still owned it) bore loss in some cases, but intricately Roman law might treat it differently. In English law post-Henry II, as reflected later in Bracton (13th c.), it looks like the obligation to deliver and pay were seen as binding from contract and the ownership issues were side-stepped by focusing on obligation (eventually common law did hold that property passes by contract if that’s the intent, especially in sale of goods law). In Islamic law, from early on, the contract (especially a sale contract) transfers ownership to the buyer immediately (in theory), even if goods are delivered later, and likewise the seller immediately owns the price money (even if paid later). This immediate transfer by consent was unusual to Europeans but normal to Muslims. The English action of debt essentially enforces such consensual transfer: if you agreed to sell me something and I paid, I can claim debt for nondelivery; if you delivered and I didn’t pay, you claim debt for unpaid price – all hinging on the initial agreement.

Another commercial institution that may have moved from Islam to Europe is the commenda partnership. The commenda was a medieval Italian/European partnership where one partner (an investor) provided capital and another (an entrepreneur) conducted a trading voyage, then they split the profits. This arrangement became common in Italian maritime trade in the 11th–13th centuries and is widely acknowledged by economic historians to have been influenced by the Islamic qirād or muḍāraba partnershipthemuslimtimes.info. In Arabic, muḍāraba (also called qirād in North Africa) was a profit-sharing contract where an investor gives money to a trader who travels and trades; any profit is split (e.g. 50-50), and if there’s loss, the investor loses capital and the trader loses his effort (but isn’t liable for the loss beyond that). This was already used in Arabia by the time of the Prophet Muhammad – indeed, the Prophet’s first wife Khadīja employed him in a muḍāraba-like venture. Islamic law elaborated this concept such that by the Abbasid Caliphate (8th–10th centuries) it was a highly developed financing tool, fueling long-distance trade from the Middle East to India and beyond. The Italian city-states likely learned of this practice via the Mediterranean trade with Muslims. Norman Sicily again might be a conduit, as Sicily’s ports connected to Italian merchants and had Muslim merchants too. The European commenda is almost identical in structure to the qirād, and historians like Olivia Remie Constable and others have traced terminologies and contracts that suggest a transfer of knowledge. Professor Makdisi notes that the “European commenda (limited partnership used in medieval civil law) was adapted from the Islamic qirād and muḍāraba”themuslimtimes.info. By having this partnership form, European merchants could share risks and profits in voyages – a key innovation for the Commercial Revolution – and its appearance correlates with contact with the Islamic world in the Crusader era.

Another Islamic financial/legal concept is the ḥawāla, which we briefly mentioned. Hawala in Islamic law is an early form of credit transfer or “bill of exchange.” It allowed a debtor to transfer his debt obligation to a third party who owed him money. This concept was unfamiliar to Roman law (which had difficulty with assignment of debts and credits). In medieval Europe, however, by the 13th century, merchants were using bills of exchange and assignments: for instance, a French crusader could transfer the right to collect a debt to an Italian banker in return for cash now – effectively assigning the debt. This idea of negotiable credit likely owes something to hawala. Indeed, Islamic hawala influenced the development of the avallo (a guarantee or endorsement) in Italian and the aval in French commercial lawthemuslimtimes.info. The very transfer of debt, which Roman law prohibited (the Latin maxim was nomina ossibus inhaerent – debts stick to the bones of the original parties), became permissible in European civil and common law by the late Middle Ages, and Makdisi and others attribute this shift to Islamic influencethemuslimtimes.info. English common law eventually allowed assignment of certain contracts and recognizes agency relationships facilitating such transfers – concepts nascent or absent in Roman law but present in Islamic practice.

Finally, it’s worth noting the influence of terminology and language in the commercial sphere. Many Arabic words entered the vocabularies of European languages for new products and practices. For example, the word “tariff” comes from Arabic. The term “tariff” (a schedule of customs duties or fees) derives from the Arabic word taʿrīf (تَعْرِيف) meaning “notification” or “definition,” likely via Italian tariffa and French tarifarabic-for-nerds.com. This reflects that the concept of organized customs duties and price schedules was transmitted along with the word – possibly originating with trade at an Arabic-speaking port or the name of a place (the Spanish port of Tarifa, itself named from an Arab commander Tarif ibn Malik, is one folk etymology)middleeasteye.net. By the 12th–13th century, European states were learning sophisticated trade administration from the Muslims. Another example, not just in trade but governance: the term for customs house in many European languages. In Spanish it is aduana, in French douane, in Italian dogana – all derived from the Arabic dīwān, which means an administrative office or ledgeren.wiktionary.orgaidanem.com. Arab caliphates had dīwān al-jawālī (tax office) and dīwān al-tijāra (trade office). Europeans adopted not only the practice of maintaining customs bureaus but even the name. This is tangible linguistic evidence of borrowing. In Spain, especially, after centuries of Islamic rule, a huge number of administrative and commercial terms remained in use. As one source notes, fields introduced by Arabs included administration and business, and indeed “the Spanish word ‘alcalde’ (mayor) comes from the Arabic word al-qāḍī (judge); the word ‘alguacil’ (sheriff) comes from al-wazīr (minister). Other examples are tarifa (tariff)…”arabnews.com. English borrowed many of these via French or Spanish over time (e.g. arsenal from Arabic dār al-ṣināʿa, admiral from Arabic amīr al-baḥr, “commander of the sea”). The infiltration of such vocabulary underscores the broader point: Europeans were adopting concepts for which they often took the original Arabic name. This lexical borrowing went hand-in-hand with legal borrowing.

In conclusion, English contract and commercial law in its formative period exhibits principles that parallel Islamic law far more closely than they do Roman law or earlier Anglo-Saxon customs. The action of debt with its enforcement of agreements transferring ownership by consent strongly resembles the Islamic ʿaqd conceptthemuslimtimes.info. The introduction of flexible instruments like assignable debt (hawala) and profit-sharing partnerships (commenda/qirad) into Europe corresponds with times and places of interaction with Muslim merchants. While English common law was slower than Mediterranean law to adopt some aspects (for instance, the law merchant influenced England a bit later), the seeds of contractual consensualism were planted in Henry II’s reign – precisely when Norman England was in contact with Islamic Sicily. Makdisi’s thesis that the “royal English contract protected by the action of debt is identified with the Islamic ʿaqd” is supported by both functional and chronological evidencethemuslimtimes.info. It appears that Islamic contract law, with its emphasis on mutual consent and good faith (an Islamic legal maxim is that contracts require good faith and fair dealing, akin to the concept of equitythemuslimtimes.info), provided a template for the emerging common law of agreements. The result was a more rational and modern-looking contract law in England, one which stood out among Western systems and may well owe a debt (no pun intended) to Islamic jurisprudence.

Property Law and Possession (The Assize of Novel Disseisin and Islamic Istihqāq)

Property rights—especially rights to land—are at the heart of any legal system. In the development of English common law, a crucial innovation was the protection of possession as a form of title. Prior to the 12th century, disputes over land in England might be resolved by feudal means (like trial by battle or lordly judgment) or by ecclesiastical intervention if force was used (e.g. the Church’s actio spolii to restore dispossessed clerics). Under Henry II, however, a new legal remedy emerged: the Assize of Novel Disseisin (assisa novae disseisinae), established around 1166–1176. This was a royal writ that allowed someone who had been disseised (dispossessed) of their land “recently” (novel) to bring a case before the King’s justices and have a jury determine who had the right to possession of the land. Importantly, the assize focused on restoring possession to the one unlawfully ousted, without requiring the claimant to prove ultimate title from time immemorial. In other words, it treated peaceable possession as worthy of legal protection and would promptly undo forcible dispossession. This concept—that even a possessor without documented title has a sort of ownership right (possessory title) against a mere intruder—was groundbreaking in medieval Europe. It shifted the paradigm from might-makes-right or lengthy feudal land claims to a quick royal intervention keeping the peace and upholding possession. Where did this idea originate?

Professor Makdisi argues that the Islamic doctrine of istihqāq is the likely source of inspiration for the assize of novel disseisinthemuslimtimes.info. Istihqāq in Islamic law refers to an action to recover property from unlawful possession. In classical Maliki jurisprudence (as applied, for example, in Islamic Spain and North Africa), an owner who had been dispossessed of land by force or usurpation (ghaṣb) could bring an istihqāq claim to recover it. Islamic law, like the common law, developed a nuanced view of possession: a person in long and peaceful possession of property is presumed to have a valid claim until someone proves otherwise. So if A is occupying land and B forcefully evicts A, Islamic law would often presume A had a right unless B could prove a superior right. This is analogous to novel disseisin which doesn’t ask the disseisor (the evictor) to show title but simply inquires whether there was a wrongful disseisin; if yes, the dispossessed is put back and the deeper questions of title can be sorted out later via another action if needed.

The Assize of Novel Disseisin and Islamic istihqāq share key features. Both treat the fact of prior possession as creating a rebuttable right. Both provide a relatively rapid procedure to restore possession (in England, the assize was designed to be faster and more accessible than older methods; in Islam, istihqāq cases were resolved by qāḍīs based on evidence of possession or ownership). And significantly, both emerged as remedies against forcible dispossession, superseding violent self-help or trial by combat. Makdisi’s research highlighted that neither Roman nor Canon law had an exact equivalent to novel disseisin at that time. There was a superficially similar Roman action, the interdict unde vi (an order against violent dispossession), but it wasn’t a perfect match. In fact, comparative analysis showed differences: the Roman interdict unde vi protected possession for its own sake, but Roman law ultimately aimed to protect possession as nine-tenths of the law only if coupled with eventual proof of ownership, and it had various limitations. Canon law’s spolium remedy (which forced clergy to restore goods or benefices taken by force) was narrower and emerged slightly later than Henry’s assizeffcolaws.wordpress.com. Scholars initially suspected Roman or canon influence on novel disseisin, but as Makdisi notes, those theories fell short: e.g. the canon actio spolii did not appear before novel disseisin, making it impossible as a sourceffcolaws.wordpress.com. In fact, actio spolii protected against dispossession as a sin (a breach of ecclesiastical law) rather than establishing a secular property right.

When one “shifts the discussion to the Islamic law’s institution of istihqāq,” as Makdisi did, the puzzle pieces alignffcolaws.wordpress.com. According to Makdisi and subsequent commentators, istihqāq and novel disseisin share the same notion of presumption of ownership based on possession, and both even deal with complex scenarios like multiple successive disseisins. For example, suppose O was the original owner, A seized the land from O, and then B seized it from A. In English novel disseisin jurisprudence, the courts held that O (original owner) could not simply take it from B by force either; rather O should sue, because B might claim via A’s possession. The law protected a chain of possessors to maintain peace – prior possession defeated later possession until the true owner or a better right was proven. Islamic law similarly grappled with second or third disseisor situations, and gave weight to prior peaceful possession as evidence of ownershipffcolaws.wordpress.com. Both systems thereby elevated possession to a legally cognizable interest.

The procedure of the assize of novel disseisin also reflects something one finds in Islamic practice: a reliance on community knowledge and quick inquiry. In novel disseisin, a jury of local men was convened to answer who was disseised and by whom, essentially. In Islamic courts, the judge could call upon witnesses (often neighbors) to establish who has been in possession, was there a sale, etc. The Maliki school’s lafīf (jury of 12, which we address in the next section) could even be used in property disputes to ascertain factsthepowerofnarratives.comthepowerofnarratives.com. Thus, the mode of fact-finding converges: local knowledge, rather than duels or ordeals, decides property cases in both English and Islamic forums.

The underlying legal philosophy shows a parallel shift: away from formalism and towards equity and “good faith” in property rights. Islamic law from an early period endorsed the idea that continuous possession under claim of right (known as ḥiyāza or ḥazm) for a certain period could establish a presumption of ownership, unless a true owner appeared with proof. This is akin to what later became in common law the concept of adverse possession or limitation: after a time, the possessor’s title is secure. Makdisi pointed out that Islamic law introduced “two fundamental principles to the West, on which were to later stand the future structure of law: equity and good faith”themuslimtimes.info. When applied to property, this means the law should protect someone who honestly holds property as theirs (bona fide possessor) against sudden challenges, and should require wrongdoers who grab land to give it back. Novel disseisin encapsulates that equitable, good-faith protection of possessors, in contrast to feudal might or archaic formalism. It treats dispossession as a wrong per se, not just an inconvenience.

One can also observe direct vocabulary echoes in the Spanish context (given Spain’s exposure to Maliki law). The Spanish law had a concept of despojo (spoliation) similar to spolium, but also the term apossamiento for taking possession. While the etymology doesn’t directly prove anything for England, it shows how widespread the notion became once Islamic influence seeped in: e.g., the Partidas of Alfonso X (Castile) explicitly mention the wrongful despojo of property and the need to restore it, reflecting knowledge of either canon or Islamic sources (likely both, since the Partidas drew on all available wisdom including Islamic commentators)themuslimtimes.info.

Makdisi concluded there is a “high probability” that the English assize of novel disseisin was imported from Islamic lawffcolaws.wordpress.com. His evidence: (1) the chronology – the assize appears after Normans had encountered Islamic courts in Sicily; (2) the structural congruence – features unique to Islamic property law appear in the English remedy; (3) the inadequacy of other sources (Roman/canon) to explain it. Additionally, Norman Sicily itself might have already been using a form of istihqāq in its courts for the Muslim population by the time Henry II’s jurists came calling. If an envoy or a scholar from England observed Sicilian practices, they would note the efficiency of a legal remedy to swiftly undo land grabs. Henry II was very interested in asserting royal justice and keeping order; novel disseisin served those ends perfectly by discouraging forcible self-help and by extending the king’s protection even to the humble freeholder whose only proof was prior possession.

One more intriguing possibility is that some English clergy or scholars read about Islamic law in the 12th century translations movement. While Islamic legal texts per se were not translated into Latin as widely as scientific texts, it’s known that scholars like Adelard of Bath traveled and learned from the Arabs. Perhaps scraps of knowledge about procedures filtered through. For example, the concept of presumption of innocence in criminal law came into Europe (Louis IX’s ordinance) likely via exposure to Islamic principles during the Crusadesthemuslimtimes.info. Likewise, presumption of possession meaning ownership could have come by similar exposure.

In practice, the assize of novel disseisin was wildly successful – it became one of the petty assizes and a model for later possessory actions. It civilized land disputing in England. Islamic courts, too, prided themselves on providing justice to those dispossessed (the literature is full of jurists discussing the rights of an mustahīqq – rightful claimant – vs a possessor). Both systems valued stability of possession as a social good.

To sum up, the protection of possession in property law is a hallmark that English common law and Islamic law share against the grain of Roman law. The specific remedy of novel disseisin corresponds closely with the Islamic istihqāq action for usurpation of landffcolaws.wordpress.com. Both allowed someone unlawfully ousted to quickly reclaim their property through a legal process focusing on prior possession and without resorting to violence. This alignment strongly suggests that the Normans, via Sicily or the Crusades, learned the advantages of the Islamic approach. In effect, the English common law’s distinct trajectory – favoring pragmatic solutions over formal ones – may have been nudged by Islamic jurisprudence, which had centuries of pragmatic development by that time. As Makdisi eloquently put it, the common law institutions fit a pattern “unique among Western systems” but one that finds a kinship in Islamic lawthemuslimtimes.info. The assize of novel disseisin is a prime example of that kinship, showcasing how an Islamic concept might have been adapted to English needs, thereby enriching the common law toolkit for protecting rights and maintaining order.

Judicial Procedure and the Role of Judges (Comparative Judicial Process)

In the realm of legal procedure, a profound difference exists between the common law’s adversarial system and the civil law’s inquisitorial system. Common law trials traditionally involve parties presenting evidence and arguments to a passive judge, whereas civil law (stemming from Roman law and later codifications) often employs an active judge who investigates the facts. What is fascinating is that the common law judge’s passive, arbiter role closely mirrors the traditional role of an Islamic qāḍī (judge), whereas it contrasts with the active role of a continental civil-law judge. This procedural alignment is another area where scholars see a resemblance possibly born of influence.

In early medieval English courts, especially by Henry II’s reforms, the judge (often a royal justice) did not go out and gather evidence or interrogate witnesses on his own initiative. Instead, the judge oversaw an ordeal, or in the new jury system, oversaw the jurors speaking the truth, or in debt and property actions, heard the pleadings and decided based on the evidence presented by the disputing parties (or by the verdict of jurors/witnesses). The judge’s primary function was to ensure the proper process, rule on legal issues, and pronounce judgment based on the outcome of the parties’ proof (e.g. which side’s evidence was credible). This is essentially an adversarial model: the parties bear responsibility for framing the issues and bringing evidence, and the judge is an impartial referee who applies the law to the facts as established in court.

This concept is very much how Islamic courts operated. In an Islamic court, the qāḍī does not launch investigations; rather, the litigation process is largely party-driven. The plaintiff makes a claim, the defendant can admit or deny. If denied, the burden is on the plaintiff to prove it (often by producing two witnesses or other recognized proof). The qāḍī’s role is to ensure the rules are followed: that the witnesses are qualified, that the claim is legally cognizable, and so on. He then delivers a judgment according to the established evidence or lack thereof. The qāḍī does not go out to inspect the crime scene, nor torture the defendant for a confession (that was alien to Islamic law, unlike some European practices of the time), nor otherwise actively build the case; he waits for the parties to present their proofs. This is encapsulated in Islamic legal maxims such as “al-bayyina ʿalā man iddaʿā, wal-yamīn ʿalā man ankara” – “the proof is upon the claimant, and the oath upon the one who denies.” The judge enforces that rule but doesn’t assume the claimant’s burden for him.

By contrast, continental European procedure, especially as it evolved slightly later in the medieval period (13th–14th centuries), under the influence of revived Roman law and canon law, became more inquisitorial. Ecclesiastical courts and later secular courts on the continent developed procedures where a judge (or an inquisitor in ecclesiastical context) could actively question witnesses, or where written dossiers were compiled by the court itself. Judges could even, in some cases, employ torture to extract truth (authorized by Roman-canon criminal procedure from the 13th century on). The common law world never embraced that approach; its judges did not themselves investigate or torture but left it to an accusatorial system of proof (wager of law, battle, or eventually jury verdicts and witness testimony).

Why did England stick with adversarial justice while its continental neighbors moved towards inquisitorial models? One possible explanation is the influence or example of Islamic procedure, transmitted perhaps by exposure of Norman and English jurists to Islamic courts in Sicily or the Crusader states. Makdisi notes “the study of the characteristics of the function and structure of Islamic law demonstrates its remarkable kinship with the common law in contrast to the civil law”themuslimtimes.info. This refers to how both Islamic and common law systems rely on case-by-case development (Islamic law develops through jurists’ opinions and analogies – fiqh – rather than comprehensive legislation, just as common law develops through judicial precedents) and how both use a method of reasoning by analogy (qiyās in Islam, case precedent in common law)themuslimtimes.info. It also implies procedural similarities like our present focus: an impartial judge and a party-driven process. Badr similarly observed that Islamic law, like the common law, is largely unwritten and is a “lawyer’s law” built on juristic discourse and practical adjudication, not on emperor’s statutesreligion.fandom.com.

In Norman Sicily, Muslims and Christians had separate courts, but the Norman kings were familiar with Islamic court procedures through their administrators. If Henry II or his advisors learned from Sicily, they might have been impressed with the rationality of Islamic legal proceedings. In Islamic procedure, reliance on evidence and witnesses (instead of ordeals or oaths of compurgators) was key. Henry II’s reforms in England eliminated trial by ordeal by 1215 (the Church forced an end to ordeal and the jury fully took over). Trial by combat, while not immediately abolished, fell out of favor as the jury became the standard. This shift to rational evidence-based trial (the jury evaluating facts, witnesses swearing truth, etc.) was heralded by historians as the origin of modern evidentiary process in the common law. It came remarkably early in England relative to continental Europe’s adoption of similar rational trial (the continent stuck with ordeal a bit longer and then went into inquisitorial mode). The question arises: might Henry’s legal minds have gotten the idea of a “rational, evidence-based procedure” from the Islamic model?

Consider the transformation: Pre-common law, an English dispute might be resolved by duel or by each party swearing oaths with a certain number of oath-helpers (essentially character witnesses). These are irrational or formalistic proofs. Islamic law had long rejected such methods (though oath could be used, it was a decisory oath only used when plaintiff lacked full evidence and it was offered to defendant). Instead, Islamic courts since the 8th century would examine actual evidence – documents, testimony – and had an elaborate law of evidence (e.g., how many witnesses for various contracts, who is an acceptable witness, etc.). England’s royal courts in the 12th century pioneered the jury as a new mode of proof, which is more rational than ordeal because it is people’s testimony about facts. While the jury is not the same as the Islamic witness system, it’s conceptually more aligned with a rational inquiry than a trial by fire or water. As we will discuss in the next section, the jury itself might have been influenced by the Islamic lafīf, but here we focus on the judge’s stance.

Both in an Islamic trial and a common-law jury trial, the judge does not decide the facts – the community (witnesses or jurors) do – and the judge then gives judgment according to their finding. This is crucial: in the common law, if a jury said “X happened,” the judge did not second-guess it; he simply applied the legal consequence. In Islamic courts, if two credible witnesses say “X happened,” the qāḍī similarly must rule on that basis (for instance, if two witnesses say the defendant owes the plaintiff money, the qāḍī must issue judgment for the plaintiff – he cannot say “I think you might be lying” without evidence to impugn them). So in both systems the finder of fact is effectively the community, not the judge personally. In contrast, in inquisitorial systems, the judge is the finder of fact (he compiles the dossier and decides if it’s convincing).

There’s also an argument that English common law inherited some of this adversarial spirit from earlier Germanic/Viking traditions, where disputes could be settled by assemblies and oath-swearing. However, those practices (like the Anglo-Saxon moot courts) still involved oaths and ordeals, whereas Henry II’s reforms clearly break away to something new. Some theorists suggest even Viking influence via Norman channels: The Normans were partly descendants of Vikings who settled in France. Vikings had certain legal customs (in Scandinavian and Norse law, there were things like compurgation and local juries for fact-finding in some areas). It’s conceivable that Normans had a predisposition for using inquests (indeed the Normans used inquests to survey land in 1086 for Domesday Book, basically a kind of jury of locals giving sworn information). That said, Makdisi’s emphasis is that the complete package of legal and procedural ideas in common law matches Islam’s “structural and functional pattern” more closely than a patchwork of Norse, Frankish, or Roman elementsthemuslimtimes.info.

One component of procedure is the use of precedent and reasoning by analogy. Makdisi draws a parallel between the common law’s development by precedent and Islamic law’s development by fiqh and qiyās (analogical reasoning)themuslimtimes.info. While precedent in common law means later courts follow earlier courts’ decisions, in Islamic fiqh it means jurists respect earlier authoritative opinions and extend principles to new cases by analogy. Neither system initially had a legislature imposing rigid codes; both grew organically, relying on scholarly/judicial reasoning. This made both systems somewhat flexible and fact-oriented. A common law judge, like an Islamic mufti or judge, would look for a prior case or a juristic ruling as guidance (English judges cited Glanvill, Bracton, or prior assize rolls; Islamic judges referred to textbooks by great jurists of their madhhab). Civil law, conversely, pivoted to treatises and codified Roman principles, a more deductive and rigid approach by the early modern period. So methodologically, common law and Islamic law share a kinship in incremental, case-by-case law-making. This perhaps is why the common law and Islamic law historically found it easier to adapt to new circumstances (through analogy) than the more statute-bound civil law – a view Makdisi and others have suggestedthemuslimtimes.info.

Another aspect of the judge’s role is neutrality among the parties. Islamic law stressed the qāḍī’s duty to be impartial; he should not have an interest in the case, should not accept bribes or favors (Islamic literature is full of warnings to judges about fairness and the sin of unjust judgment), and he generally did not act unless someone brought a case. Similarly, a hallmark of common law judges is that they are (ideally) neutral arbiters; they do not initiate cases (in modern terms, there’s no suo motu investigations in common law courts historically; you needed a plaintiff to come and sue). Civil law judges in inquisitorial tradition can initiate certain investigations, especially in criminal matters. So party-driven initiation of cases is another parallel.

One could argue these similarities might be coincidental or due to both systems dealing with similar problems of administering justice in a society. However, given that English law dramatically changed under specific historical conditions where contact with Islam occurred, it is reasonable to suspect influence. The Normans in Sicily may have appreciated the efficient, evidence-based Islamic courts that they encountered and transplanted some of that ethos to England. In that sense, English royal justice owes a debt to Islamic justice traditions: both sought to replace trial by ordeal/combat with “proof by evidence and reason.”

To reinforce this point, consider also how evidence law in common law gradually evolved to resemble Islamic rules. For example, Islamic law had a rule that testimony generally had to be from upstanding witnesses (not convicts, etc.), and common law, by the 18th century, developed rules about witness competence and oaths similarly. But more fundamentally, the presumption of innocence and the idea that the accuser has the burden of proof – which are bedrocks of modern common law – have clear articulations in Islamic doctrine from much earlier. It’s recorded that the Prophet Muhammad and later the Caliph Umar insisted that no person should be punished based on suspicion alone and that the burden of proof is on the accuser, with the accused having the right to deny and only be sworn if no other proof (exactly the maxim quoted before). This principle was eventually absorbed into European law; Louis IX of France (St. Louis) coming back from Crusade instituted reforms including something akin to presumption of innocencethemuslimtimes.info. In England, this principle was slower to explicitly enunciate, but the practice of jury trial inherently carried a presumption of innocence (since the accused is not guilty until the jury says so). If we trace that idea’s journey, the Crusades stand out as a likely conduit.

In summary, the judicial process in common law – adversarial, party-driven, reliant on evidence presented by litigants, with a neutral judge – is remarkably similar to the judicial process in classical Islamic law, and quite distinct from the direction of continental Europe’s civil law. This again hints that England’s legal evolution was guided by the example of Islamic courts, possibly through Norman Sicilian experience or crusader observations. Makdisi underscores that the overall “structure of Islamic law” has a “remarkable kinship” with common law, especially when contrasted with civil law systemsthemuslimtimes.info. Both are decentralized (judge-made or jurist-made) systems that prized procedure and substantive justice through analogous reasoning. While the common law eventually developed its own unique features, its early trajectory may have been set on a more rational, evidence-based course thanks to the transfusion of Islamic procedural ideals during the 12th century.

Trial by Jury: The English Jury and the Islamic Lafīf

Perhaps the boldest claim of Islamic influence on English legal institutions – and one that has sparked much interest – is the idea that the English jury system was inspired by or derived from the Islamic lafīf. The jury is often considered the quintessential Anglo-Norman innovation: a panel of 12 (or sometimes 24) local men, sworn to tell the truth (verdict from verum dictum – “truthful saying”), who would investigate or answer questions of fact. King Henry II is credited with making jury trials a regular part of royal justice (with the Assize of Clarendon 1166 and Assize of Northampton 1176 institutionalizing recognitions by 12 free men in criminal and property cases). The classical English jury eventually became a body of 12 peers who render a verdict in both criminal and civil cases.

Meanwhile, in Islamic law, particularly the Mālikī school prevalent in North and West Africa and Spain, there was an analogous institution called lafīf (also spelled lafīfah). The lafīf was essentially a jury of twelve local men used in certain situations to establish facts. Mālikī jurists between the 8th and 11th centuries developed the lafīf as a means to satisfy evidentiary requirements in cases where direct testimony in the standard form might not be available. For example, some versions of the lafīf were used in cases of uncertain homicide or when trying to establish the reputation of someone (like proving someone was free and not a slave, or proving lineage). Twelve men from the community would be gathered, sworn to tell the truth or to inquire diligently and give an honest collective answer (similar to an inquest), and they had to reach a unanimous verdict. If they couldn’t all agree, the solution in Mālikī law was to get more men until at least 12 concurred – reminiscent of early English juries where if jurors disagreed, sometimes more people were added or the jury was held until they came to unanimity. The lafīf is thus a striking parallel: it’s 12 members, sworn, unanimous, truth-finding, binding on the judge’s decision, and used at the request of a party (plaintiff) – all features that match the English jury as it emerged in the 12th centurythepowerofnarratives.com.

Makdisi’s research brought this to light: “The structure of the lafif resembles the jury in nearly every detail as it appeared in England in the twelfth century,” he wrotethepowerofnarratives.com. He enumerated eight characteristics of the early English jury and showed the Islamic lafīf had those same eight characteristicsthepowerofnarratives.com. These characteristics (as quoted from Makdisi) include: (1) a body of 12 men from the locality, (2) sworn to tell the truth, (3) bound to give a verdict (i.e., they cannot abstain), (4) required to be unanimous (and if 12 did not agree, more were found until 12 agreed), (5) concerning matters they had personal knowledge of (what they had seen or heard), (6) the verdict was binding on the judge (he had to render judgment accordingly), (7) the verdict settled the truth of facts in the case, (8) the jury/lafif was obtained as of right by a plaintiff who properly requested itthepowerofnarratives.com. It is remarkable that the number twelve appears in both – one might think that’s an arbitrary coincidence, but given all the other similarities, it strongly suggests a connection. The requirement of unanimity is also notable; many cultures might use majority vote, but both these use unanimity for the verdict.

Now, historically, how could the English have gotten the idea of a 12-man jury from the Islamic world? Enter Norman Sicily again and the close ties between Roger II’s court and Henry II’s. Makdisi and others highlight the role of Thomas Brown (mentioned earlier): an official who worked in Sicily’s administration and then in England. In Sicily, post-conquest, Roger II and his successors likely had to adjudicate disputes among a population that included Muslims accustomed to their qāḍīs. It’s documented that the Normans allowed Muslims to continue using qāḍī courts internally for a while. But for cases between Christians and Muslims or for general royal cases, the Normans might have integrated some Islamic procedural concepts like the lafīf to get at facts. There is also evidence from the Kingdom of Jerusalem (a Crusader state) of mixed juries or inquests – for instance, in the 12th-century Kingdom of Jerusalem, there was an institution called “lieta” which some scholars think is similar to lafif, though the details are murky. Another route was via Spain: It’s known that the Visigothic (and later Spanish) practice had something called “jury” or panels in local courts, possibly influenced by Islamic practice during the reconquista as local customs mixed.

Makdisi, however, anchors on Sicily: he notes that Henry II’s cousin, King Roger II of Sicily, corresponded and probably shared ideas. In fact, Henry’s court had Sicilian influences in other areas (Henry’s famous admiral, Eugene – later Pope Eugene III – was originally from Pisa but had ties to Sicily; and Henry’s mother Matilda had lived in Europe widely, though not Sicily as far as I recall, but the network was there). The argument is that through these channels, Henry II learned of the lafīf and saw its usefulness to royal justice. The Assize of Clarendon (1166) formalized using 12 local men as jurors (originally more of an accusing grand jury for criminals). Henry expanded the jury concept to civil disputes as well (recognitions of novel disseisin, mort d’ancestor, etc., all used recognitors/jurors). Thus, the timeline matches: by 1160s, English law uses juries; Mālikī jurisprudence had developed the lafīf by, say, 1000 AD or earlier in Islamic Spain/North Africa, and Normans in Sicily (1130s–1150s) overlapped with that knowledge.

Additionally, consider that Normans were originally Vikings (Norsemen) who settled in France, and Norman law had the concept of an “inquisitorial inquest” from Carolingian times (the Frankish kings sometimes convened local men to answer questions, a practice continued in Normandy). Some historians attribute the English jury partly to that Carolingian/Frankish inquest tradition. What Makdisi’s theory suggests is that the Normans might have reinforced or modified their inquest by adopting the Islamic version’s details like twelve sworn neighbors delivering a unanimous verdict. In essence, the Normans combined their inquest tradition with the Islamic lafīf to create the English jury trial.

Interestingly, there’s an oft-cited (though possibly apocryphal) story that King Henry II, upon creating the jury, was influenced by the example of a “Saracen” (Muslim) practice he heard of. While not documented in medieval chronicles clearly, this story aligns with Makdisi’s findings. More concretely, Makdisi points out that alternative explanations for the jury – such as deriving it purely from Anglo-Saxon “hundred courts” or ecclesiastical synods – fail to account for the specifics. Anglo-Saxons had used oath-helpers and occasional neighbor testimonies but not a formal jury of 12. The Norman and Angevin kings introduced something new, which just so happens to look like something that existed in Islamic courts.

A critical perspective might ask: Did any medieval observer note similarity between English and Islamic practices? We have no direct comment from 12th-century writers like Glanvill or Bracton saying “our procedure is like the Saracens’.” However, silence is unsurprising – they might not have known the ultimate origin, or wouldn’t admit it if they did due to cultural or religious pride. Instead, they framed it as royal innovation.

It’s worth noting that Islamic influence on the concept of a group verdict might also have come indirectly via the Vikings/Varangians in the East. Some Varangian (Norse) mercenaries served in Byzantium and had contact with the Muslim world; the Rus’ law (Pravda) and others had communal oath-swearing. But 12 specifically and unanimous – that is distinctively Maliki Islamic and English. Also, recall that the number 12 is significant in Islamic law because of a hadith (saying of the Prophet) used by Malikis that “if a group of 12 swear, their oath equals witness” in some contexts. For England, 12 may have biblical resonance (12 apostles), but in fact, early English juries sometimes had other numbers (like 24) for grand juries. That they settled on 12 for petit (trial) juries permanently could be coincidence, or an imprint from the lafif.

What about usage of jury in early cases? The Assize of Clarendon in 1166 says 12 men of each hundred and 4 of each township shall report under oath about local criminals (that’s more like a grand jury). The Assize of Northampton 1176 reiterated that. By the late 1100s, criminal accused could opt for jury instead of ordeal (which after 1215 was the only way since ordeal was abolished). Civil assizes had set 12 recognitors. So clearly by 1200, the 12-man jury trial is embedded. Meanwhile, Ibn Khaldun (14th c. historian) later actually noted that Frankish (European) courts used a council of sworn men, which he compared to Islamic procedure – showing that at least one later Muslim observer noticed a parallel.

Modern scholarship such as a Brill article (cited in search results) by Samy Ayoub or others asks “Is there a jury in Islamic law?” and often references Makdisi’s work. Not all scholars fully agree with Makdisi; some might argue that the lafif was rarely used or that the Normans might have had independent reasons. However, none deny the similarity. One study that tested Makdisi’s hypothesis on istihqaq and novel disseisin found much alignment, lending credence to influenceelectronicpublications.org.

Bringing Vikings explicitly into the narrative (as the user prompt does: “Some theories suggest Viking legal customs, influenced by Islamic traditions in Sicily where juries/group judgments existed, contributed to the English jury system”) is essentially a rephrasing: Normans = Viking descendants, their customs plus Islamic in Sicily gave English jury. So yes, we can articulate that: The Normans’ own cultural heritage (from Norse “Thing” assemblies and Frankish inquests) made them amenable to a jury concept, but the full-fledged jury trial likely crystallized through exposure to the lafīf in Sicily.

Makdisi also pointed out the difference that needed to be accounted for: Norman England’s jury wasn’t exactly like any one European practice but was almost a twin of the Islamic one. He compared it to the often-cited possible origins – the Carolingian/Norman inquest and the Saxon doomsmen – and showed those explain at most half of the jury’s featuresffcolaws.wordpress.com. Only by going “beyond the borders of Europe” to Islam do all the pieces alignthemuslimtimes.info.

Thus, trial by jury – far from being an isolated English miracle – can be seen as a product of legal cross-pollination. It introduced a rational, collective fact-finding method that was present in Islamic courts and transplanted by the Normans. And of course, the jury system became a cornerstone of common law rights (think of Magna Carta 1215 enshrining the right to trial by peers). Indirectly, if the lafīf influenced the jury, then Islamic law’s humanistic approach to proof (favoring testimony of peers over superstitious ordeals) influenced the course of legal history for the entire Anglophone world that inherited the jury tradition.

In conclusion, the evidence suggests that the English jury was not an ex nihilo creation but likely an adaptation of the Islamic lafīf, facilitated by Norman interactions with Islamic legal culture in the 12th century. As one summary put it: Henry II “instituted a jury system of 12 free men charged to uncover the facts of the case with the same characteristics as the lafif system”thepowerofnarratives.com. The probability of independent development of so many identical features is low. Thus, among all examples of Islamic influence, the jury/lafīf connection stands as one of the most compelling, highlighting how even fundamental political-legal institutions in the West may trace their lineage to the Islamic world.

Legal Education and Scholarship (Inns of Court and Madrasas)

The influences of Islamic law on common law extend beyond specific doctrines and into the realm of legal education and intellectual method. By the late 13th and 14th centuries, England had developed an unusual system for educating its lawyers: the Inns of Court in London. These were essentially professional guilds or colleges where lawyers (barristers and judges in training) resided, dined, and engaged in legal exercises (moots, readings, debates) to learn the law. The Inns of Court had no exact parallel elsewhere in Europe – in civil law countries, universities (like Bologna, Orleans, etc.) taught law as an academic subject (Roman and canon law), whereas in England, the common law was not taught at the universities (Oxford and Cambridge taught canon law and Roman law to a degree, but not the English common law). Instead, legal training was a practical apprenticeship model in the quasi-monastic environment of the Inns of Court, located in cities like London near the courts.

John Makdisi and others have drawn a provocative parallel between the Inns of Court and the Islamic madrasa system. A madrasa in medieval Islam was an educational institution – often a college of law and theology – typically established via waqf endowment, where students studied under master jurists, often residing and receiving stipends or boarding. Madrasas spread across the Islamic world by the 11th century onward (the Nizamiyya in Baghdad, founded 1060s, being famous). In a madrasa, the focus was on fiqh (jurisprudence) and uṣūl al-fiqh (legal theory), training future judges, muftis, or scholars in Islamic law. Instruction was based on lectures, commentaries, debate, and a strong tradition of oral learning with some written texts.

The Inns of Court, emerging in the 14th century (some precursors in late 13th), similarly were dedicated to teaching common law through exercises and readings rather than formal lectures with examinations. Admission was by being “called to the bar” after sufficient training. They provided lodging and a communal life reminiscent of monastic colleges, not unlike the residential nature of many madrasas. Moreover, both the madrasa and Inns were independent of the mainline university system.

Makdisi argued that even the structure – where senior practitioners (Benchers of the Inn, analogous to professor-jurists in madrasas) guided the junior students – is comparable. One might ask how England would have known of madrasas. Two possible routes: Crusades and Spain. During the Crusades, some Christian scholars did encounter Islamic educational institutions (for instance, the Knights Hospitaller or Templars in the East sometimes engaged local scholars for translations). More concretely, in Spain, the Christian kingdoms post-Reconquista took over many madrasas in cities like Cordoba, Seville, Granada (after 1492) – even before that, they were aware of the concept of colleges. Alphonsine Spain (13th c.) created some collegiate institutions possibly inspired by Islamic ones. While the timeline of Inns of Court (14th c.) is later than Henry II’s time, the idea could have been percolating or the parallel drawn by later comparative historians.

Makdisi specifically asserts that “the scholastic method, the license to teach, [and] the law schools known as Inns of Court in England (which he asserts are parallel to Madrasas in Islam)” may have originated from Islamic influencethemuslimtimes.info. By “scholastic method,” Makdisi could be referring to the method of dialectical reasoning and case analysis in law, which indeed Islamic jurists had done for centuries and which medieval European scholars adopted in universities (the scholastic method with quaestio, disputation format – some say it was influenced by Islamic dialectic munāẓara practices). The “license to teach” (ijaza in Arabic, licentia docendi in Latin) was a crucial part of madrasa culture – a student received an ijaza from a teacher to indicate mastery and permission to transmit knowledge. Europe’s universities also had the licentia docendi concept via the church. In the Inns of Court, being “called to the bar” or made a serjeant was somewhat analogous as a professional certification.

One fascinating detail: The word “call” in Inn of Court context and “ijaza” in Islamic context both imply permission. The Islamic ijazah often was a written certificate. The Inns didn’t give paper diplomas in the early days, but a similar mentorship and blessing model held.

Another aspect is the emphasis on independent reasoning (Ijtihad) in education. Islamic law schools encouraged top students to do ijtihad (independent reasoning within bounds of the school’s methodology). The Inns similarly encouraged students to argue hypotheticals and come up with logical extensions of precedent, effectively doing quasi-ijtihad in common law. Both systems valued precedent or earlier authorities but allowed reasoning by analogy to apply rules to new facts – again, Qiyas in Islam, case analogy in common law. The result was lawyers/jurists adept at thinking through fact scenarios rather than just reciting code articles, a skill that defined both Islamic jurists and common lawyers.

It’s also worth noting that George Makdisi (John Makdisi’s father, a noted historian of Islamic institutions) wrote extensively on how Islamic madrasas influenced the rise of European universities in general (e.g. concepts of endowment, college structure, curriculum in law, even the doctorate). John Makdisi likely drew on that background to suggest the specific parallel of law schools. According to some scholars, Oxford and Cambridge collegiate systems might have been influenced by Islamic and Eastern Christian precedents. For instance, the idea of a residential college endowed for scholars (like Merton College which we discussed was basically a trust and a college) can be compared to madrasas endowed by waqfs for students. We have seen how Merton’s trust parallels waqf; Merton College as an educational residential institution thus parallels a madrasa. And indeed, guess what – Merton College’s founding in 1264 was not far behind the establishment of famous madrasas like those in 12th c. Baghdad or Damascus. Of course, the founders of Merton, Oxford, Cambridge likely did not travel to the Middle East themselves, but through intermediary knowledge and returning crusaders/clergy they might have heard of such institutions.

Now, focusing specifically on the Inns of Court: The first of these (like Inner Temple, Middle Temple, Lincoln’s Inn, Gray’s Inn) arose in the 14th century, though the training of common lawyers was happening earlier in a less formal way. It might be that by the time common law separated itself from the old church-dominated education (after 1215, Roman and canon law were barred from encroaching on common law jurisdiction, and common law started forming its own identity), lawyers formed their own guild learning system. Possibly, they looked at the model of how Islamic law – which was likewise not state-imposed but a private scholarly enterprise – maintained continuity: through dedicated colleges attached to mosques where jurists trained new jurists.

It’s also significant that both systems kept secular rulers somewhat at arm’s length from legal education. In Islam, law was largely in the hands of the ulama (scholars), independent from the caliph’s whims (though state interference did exist at times). In England, the common law developed partly independently of royal decrees, and by training lawyers in Inns rather than royal academies, the lawyers maintained a degree of autonomy from the crown in shaping the law (not entirely, but at least in day-to-day interpretation). So the ethos of an independent legal profession that one sees in common law could have been reinforced by the example of the ulama’s role in Islam as a semi-independent body interpreting law. In fact, some comparative law scholars note that Islamic law and common law are “jurist law” or “judge-made law” systemsreligion.fandom.com, whereas civil law is more “code law.” The training grounds for such jurist-law systems (madrasas and Inns) are similarly independent and practice-oriented.

Another point of educational parallel: Moot court or disputations. In a madrasa, a common pedagogical tool was to have munāẓara (debate) on hypothetical legal problems, often with a student defending a position and another opposing, while the professor moderated – very much like moot court or Inns exercises. The records from the Inns mention moots where readers (tutors) pose cases and students argue the sides. This strongly resembles the disputation style which also was in the medieval universities but came to them via scholastic method (ultimately from dialectical practices that arguably had roots in Islamic madrasas and earlier Greek logic).

While the link here is less directly documented than for trusts or jury, it forms part of Makdisi’s broader claim that the integrated whole of common law – including its educational institutions – aligns with an Islamic modelthemuslimtimes.info. In his view, the “coherence” of so many similar elements (education, methodology, substantive law) implies common law was patterned after Islam’s system more than any other.

It should be mentioned that not everyone is fully convinced: critics might say the Inns of Court evolved from guilds and monastic venues in England’s own context. But acknowledging the similarity to madrasas opens new ways of seeing how knowledge transfer happened. For example, we know that after the Crusades, the Church – ironically perhaps – adopted some Muslim educational practices: the concept of a college of scholars supported by endowment came to Western monastic orders (the Dominican studia generalia, etc., which were like internal universities). The Dominican Order and others in 13th century created schools within their monasteries, partially influenced by what they saw of Muslim and also older Greek schools. Some early common lawyers were clerics (like Glanvill’s treatise was written by a clergy). Those clergy might have studied in Paris or Bologna, where they rubbed shoulders with people who translated works from Arabic or with Christian scholars from Spain. It’s a diffuse but plausible influence chain.

At a linguistic level, there isn’t a clear borrowing like “madrasa” to “Inn” or something (the word Inn just meant lodging place, adopted as these were originally hostels lawyers used). But conceptually, the license to teach (Latin licentia, Arabic ijāzah) and learning circle is shared. Makdisi cites that as a conscious parallelthemuslimtimes.info – presumably referencing that both systems had formal authorization of teachers and emphasis on lineage of knowledge.

Finally, textual tradition: Islamic law had authoritative texts (like al-Muwatta of Imam Malik, or later commentaries) but encouraged students to memorize cases and commentary. Common law, similarly, was transmitted through Year Books (records of cases) and judge’s reports and students had to learn from hearing readings of cases. There was no official statutory textbook for common law, much like fiqh had no single code – both were taught from commentaries on actual cases or opinions. This again shows a similarity in pedagogical approach: case-centric learning.

In conclusion, while more abstract than trusts or juries, the similarities in legal education and scholarly culture reinforce the argument of cross-cultural influence. The Inns of Court vs. Madrasa parallel demonstrates that the Normans and English not only possibly borrowed legal rules from Islamic law, but may have also borrowed the very means of perpetuating and teaching law. By doing so, they ensured the longevity and internal consistency of the common law much as the Islamic madrasa system sustained Islamic jurisprudence. Makdisi’s suggestion that English law schools (Inns of Court) are parallel to Islamic madrasasthemuslimtimes.info highlights that the common law was not just a random assortment of rules, but an integrated system with its own methods and institutions – a system that finds a mirror in Islamic tradition more than in any other predecessor.

Linguistic and Cultural Traces: Legal Terminology and Concepts

Beyond formal legal institutions and doctrines, the interaction between Islamic law and European law is evidenced by the vocabulary and ancillary concepts that entered European languages from Arabic. These linguistic borrowings often reflect the introduction of new objects, administrative practices, or commercial techniques from the Muslim world to medieval Europe. We have touched on some in earlier sections, but it is worth gathering them to appreciate the breadth of Islamic influence on the legal and administrative lexicon of Europe, including England.

One clear example is the word “tariff.” As noted, tariff comes from the Italian tariffa and French tarif, which trace to Arabic taʿrīf (meaning an “announcement” or “definition,” and in commerce a “notice of fees”)arabic-for-nerds.com. The adoption of this word in European languages occurred in the context of trade between Latin Mediterranean merchants and the Islamic world. Muslim ports and merchants used schedules of customs duties called taʿārīf, and European traders, instead of inventing a term, adopted the local term. This indicates that the very concept of a systematized customs fee schedule was something Europeans learned through trade with the more organizationally advanced Islamic states. Over time, tariff became a standard term in international commerce and domestic revenue law in Europe, showing a tangible linguistic mark of Islamic practice on European law. By the 18th–19th centuries, every European power had “tariff laws,” a term ultimately of Arabic originarabnews.com.

In local governance, particularly in Iberia but with analogues elsewhere, titles for officials and institutions betray Arabic roots. The Spanish alcalde (meaning a municipal magistrate or mayor) is directly from Arabic al-qāḍī (“the judge”)arabnews.com. During the Muslim rule of Spain, the qāḍī was a key judicial figure; after the Reconquista, Christians adopted the term (with a slight change in meaning) for their own local officials. Even though England does not use “alcalde,” the word’s journey into Spanish and then as a concept known in Europe is testament to Islamic influence. The English word “sheriff” is not from Arabic (it comes from Old English scirgerefa, shire-reeve), but interestingly Spanish alguacil (historically meaning a sort of constable or court official) comes from Arabic al-wazīr (minister)arabnews.com, showing the transfer of administrative roles.

In the maritime and military sphere, an example is “admiral,” used across Europe for naval commanders, which derives from Arabic amīr al-… (commander of …). Specifically amīr al-baḥr meant “commander of the sea” in Fatimid Egypt; the Sicilians and Crusaders picked up ammiratus from amīr, and it became admiral in English. This is slightly outside pure law, but it illustrates how Norman Sicily, employing titles like Emir of Emirs (ammiratus ammiratorum) for their chief ministers (like George of Antioch under Roger II), injected Arabic terms into Norman governance that later migrated into broader European use.

Commercial law terms also show Arabic influence. For instance, the practice of using a written “check” or “cheque” for payment in lieu of cash was pioneered in the Islamic world where it was called ṣakk (صك). The word check in English via French chèque likely comes from sakk. The concept certainly comes via either the Templars (who imitated the idea, as we discussed with letters of credit) or Italian traders dealing with Muslims. This influenced the development of bills of exchange and negotiable instruments in Europe’s late medieval commercial revolution. Even the development of banking owes some debt to Islamic precedents – Europe had moneylenders, but a networked banking system took off after the Crusades, when groups like the Templars and Italian merchant banks implemented practices reminiscent of hawala (transfer) and sakk.

In international law and diplomatic concepts, there were subtler influences. For example, the idea of diplomatic immunity and safe-conducts had parallels in Islamic tradition that European crusaders experienced. The term “assassin” (not a legal concept per se, but adjacent to law enforcement) famously comes from the Arabic ḥashīshiyyīn (the Nizari Ismaili sect nickname), entering French and English during the Crusadesarabnews.com. This shows even criminal law lexicon could be shared.

The concept of “customs” (as in customs duty) in various languages is often from Arabic dīwān as mentioned: French douane, Italian dogana, Spanish aduanaen.wiktionary.orgaidanem.com. England historically used “customs” from Latin consuetudines or similar, but the term douane appears in many contexts in Europe. Diwan also made its mark in other contexts: e.g. “Divan” (a council or government bureau, or in furniture, a kind of low couch named after council chambers with benches) came from the administrative sense of dīwānen.wikipedia.org.

Even some fundamental legal concepts such as agency (the ability to act on behalf of another in contractual matters) which we touched on, have etymological marks: the English word agent is Latin (agens), but the concept in practice was lacking in Roman law and was robust in Islamic law (wakil). The European understanding of agency in commerce might have been accelerated by observing Islamic agents working in ports (perhaps an Arab factor representing a merchant).

Human rights or ethical legal concepts can also be traced partly to cross-cultural fertilization. For example, presumption of innocence is a cornerstone of modern Western criminal law, but as noted earlier, it was present in Islamic law from its inception. When King Louis IX returned from Crusade and instituted reforms in France’s judicial system, one was reportedly to insist that accusers prove guilt and that those accused are to be treated as innocent until proven otherwisethemuslimtimes.info. This was a departure from earlier medieval practice where often the accused had to prove his innocence (e.g. by compurgation or ordeal). Louis IX’s biographers suggest he was impressed by the justice he saw in the Holy Land under the Muslims, which included this principle. From France, this concept disseminated, and by the time of Blackstone in the 18th century, it was considered an ancient maxim (Blackstone’s formulation: “It is better that ten guilty persons escape than one innocent suffer” is arguably an Enlightenment flourish on the old theme). But in Islam, we find a quote from Caliph Umar (7th century): “In the name of God, if a hundred guilty should escape, it is better than one innocent person be wrongly convicted”themuslimtimes.info. That is a striking resonance. While not directly provable that Western jurists copied Umar’s saying, the parallel ethos hints at a shared humanistic value possibly reinforced by Crusaders witnessing Islamic judicial mercy.

Equity and good faith: Makdisi mentioned that Islamic law introduced to the West the principles of equity and good faith, which became fundamental in Western contract and international law (pacta sunt servanda – agreements must be kept, anchored in good faith)themuslimtimes.info. Medieval canon law also emphasized good faith (bona fides) in contracts, but one wonders if exposure to Islamic commercial fairness concepts (like the strong Islamic injunctions against fraud, and requirement of clear consent in contracts) influenced medieval Christian thinkers. The term assurance in trade, the idea of trustworthiness (amānāh) – many such moral-legal ideas were common currency in interfaith interactions.

Freedom of religion and tolerance even found some voice: Medieval scholars like Roger Bacon and later Enlightenment thinkers read of Islamic governance where non-Muslims were allowed to live under their own laws (dhimma system) and this perhaps influenced ideas of legal pluralism or at least amazed European intellectuals that tolerance existed. The user prompt mentions “individual freedom, equality before law, non-retroactivity, limited sovereignty, tolerance” as concepts adopted in Europe through Islamic contactsthemuslimtimes.info. For example, the idea that a law cannot punish actions retroactively (non-retroactivity) is fundamental now; Islamic law had the principle that God doesn’t punish for a duty not yet revealed (no sin without law) and caliphs generally couldn’t impose criminal penalties ex post facto because Sharia was fixed. European systems didn’t articulate that until much later (some say the first explicit non-retroactivity clause was in the French Declaration of Rights 1789, but there were inklings earlier). Possibly knowledge of Islamic governance contributed to these notions slowly filtering in.

On a lighter note, even terms like “mecca” have entered common parlance (e.g. “a mecca for tourists”), showing how integrated certain Islamic concepts became in Western vocabulary – though that’s more modern and cultural than medieval legal influence.

Finally, consider Oliverus Scholasticus’s account after the Sixth Crusade, which the Muslim Times article quoted: he marvelled at Sultan Al-Kamil’s merciful treatment of defeated Crusaders, feeding them instead of killing themthemuslimtimes.info. This observation by a Christian clergyman would circulate in Europe and could influence the Christian ethos of chivalry and humanitarian treatment in war. Indeed, the laws of war in Islam (no killing of non-combatants, humane treatment of prisoners) often outshone the brutality of medieval European warfare, and gradually Europeans adopted more chivalrous norms – arguably a case of moral influence.

Each of these examples – whether specific terms like “tariff” and “douane,” titles like “alcalde,” or broad principles like presumption of innocence – underscores that Islamic civilization did not exist in a vacuum from Europe. Through trade, conquest, diplomacy, and scholarship, Arabic language and Islamic legal concepts seeped into European consciousness. England, being on Europe’s fringe, got many of these indirectly (through Norman French, through Latin treatises, through returned crusaders). Yet, because of the Norman and crusader connections we have outlined, England was a significant beneficiary of this cross-pollination.

These linguistic and conceptual influences might not individually prove a deep impact on “common law” as a system, but they provide a corroborating backdrop to the direct institutional influences we discussed. They paint a picture of an age in which English and European law, far from being insular, was porous and adaptive, absorbing useful ideas from a more advanced Islamic world. As one historian quipped, medieval Islamic Spain was a “monument of legal science” and the Latin West learned much from translations and contactthemuslimtimes.info. In law as in science, the Muslim Golden Age helped trigger Europe’s own advances.

In summary, terminology such as “tariff,” “mayor” (via alcalde), “sheriff” (via alguacil), “admiral,” “arsenal,” “douane,” “check,” etc., in European languages testifies to Arabic influence in governance and commercearabnews.com. Coupled with the substantive legal concepts (trust, contract, jury, etc.) previously discussed, these linguistic traces reinforce the reality that Islamic law and administration were key reference points for medieval Europeans forging their own legal renaissance.

Scholarly Perspectives and Debates

The idea that English common law was significantly influenced by Islamic law is a relatively recent hypothesis that has generated both excitement and skepticism in academic circles. It challenges the conventional narrative that common law developed in splendid isolation (or solely from European sources) and invites a more global view of legal history. Here, we will outline some key scholarly perspectives, especially those of Professor John Makdisi who spearheaded this line of inquiry, and the responses or contributions of other scholars like Monica Gaudiosi, Gamal Moursi Badr, Avisheh Avini, and Paul Brand, among others. We will also note the general consensus (or lack thereof) on this issue.

John A. Makdisi’s Contribution: In 1999, Makdisi published “The Islamic Origins of the Common Law” in the North Carolina Law Review, which has since become the cornerstone article for this thesis. Makdisi systematically compared the common law and Islamic legal institutions of the 12th century and argued for direct influence via Norman Sicilythemuslimtimes.info. He did so in a meticulous way: identifying specific English legal innovations (action of debt, novel disseisin, trial by jury) and tracing analogues in Islamic law (ʿaqd, istihqāq, lafīf)themuslimtimes.info. He bolstered his case by pointing out structural similarities in legal reasoning (precedent vs. qiyās) and education (Inns vs. madrasas)themuslimtimes.info. Makdisi concluded that only Islamic law provides a coherent single source that could explain why these various English institutions all emerged when and how they didthemuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info. He famously wrote: “The Islamic legal system was far superior to the primitive legal system of England before the birth of the common law. It was natural for the more primitive system to look to the more sophisticated one as it developed three institutions that played a major role in creating the common law… The coherence of this pattern strongly suggests the dominating influence of a single preexisting legal tradition… This Article looks beyond the borders of Europe and proposes that the origins of the common law may be found in Islamic law.”themuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info. Makdisi’s thesis was bold and inevitably stirred debate.

Support and Extensions: Several scholars have supported various parts of Makdisi’s thesis or explored related influences:

• Monica M. Gaudiosi (1988): Predating Makdisi’s big article, her work on the waqf and the English trust made a specific case for Islamic influence in one areathemuslimtimes.info. Gaudiosi demonstrated how Walter de Merton’s trust to establish Merton College paralleled a waqf, and she argued this was not coincidence but likely learned via the Crusadersthemuslimtimes.info. Her article in the University of Pennsylvania Law Review concluded that the Islamic waqf is the best explanation for the origin of the English charitable trust, given the inadequacy of previous theories (Roman fideicommissum, Germanic Salmannus, etc.)tulanelawreview.orgtulanelawreview.org. Gaudiosi’s research is often cited as concrete evidence of legal borrowing facilitated by the Knights Templar and other crusaders encountering Islamic institutionsthemuslimtimes.info.
• Gamal Moursi Badr (1978): Badr, an Egyptian jurist and comparative law scholar, wrote “Islamic Law: Its Relation to Other Legal Systems.” He acknowledged the structural similarity of Islamic law to common law (both being largely unwritten, precedent-based systems)religion.fandom.com. On specific points like trusts, Badr was cautious. He noted the parallels between waqf and trust but famously said “it is safer…to ascribe the similarities between waqf and trust to parallel needs and developments rather than direct influence” (paraphrasing)papers.ssrn.com. In other words, Badr conceded the resemblance but wasn’t fully convinced of direct borrowing, leaning towards independent development due to analogous conditions (this is a classic scholarly caution to avoid claiming influence without direct proof). However, Badr did not rule out influence; he simply urged rigor. He also highlighted that Islamic law has features (like being a “lawyers’ law”) that common law also has, which set both apart from Roman lawreligion.fandom.com. So, in a way, Badr’s perspective provides support for Makdisi’s general point about kinship, if not every specific.
• Avisheh Avini (1996): In “The Origins of the Modern English Trust Revisited” (Tulane Law Review), Avini reviewed the various theories of trust origins and found the Islamic waqf the most convincing. She essentially reinforced Gaudiosi’s findings, and her comment was a clear endorsement: “the waqf…most prominently influenced the development of the use [trust]…the two devices are so parallel… it can hardly be accidental”tulanelawreview.orgtulanelawreview.org. Coming three years before Makdisi’s article, her work shows that by the 1990s, at least in the realm of trusts, the Islamic influence theory was gaining traction. She, like Makdisi, pointed to returning crusaders (in her case, specifically Franciscan friars) as carriers of the waqf concepttulanelawreview.org.
• Other Scholars on Juries and Procedure: The unique claim about the jury (lafīf) has been explored by a few. For instance, a Brill publication by Samy Ayoub and others looked at whether juries existed in Islam and referenced Makdisi’s argumentbrill.com. This shows the debate moved even to Islamic studies circles questioning their own history (since many Muslim scholars themselves hadn’t emphasized the lafīf until Makdisi made it famous in connection with juries). Some, like Ahmad Al-Dawoody (Islamic law historian), have acknowledged that the Crusades could have been a conduit for such ideas. The “Power of Narratives” site we cited indicates that by 2024, Makdisi’s view on juries had permeated even popular history blogsthepowerofnarratives.comthepowerofnarratives.com.
• Paul Brand (2000s): Dr. Paul Brand, a prominent historian of English medieval law, weighed in on the trust/waqf issue. He acknowledged parallels between waqf and the Merton College trust, as the Muslim Times and Wikipedia summary noteen.wikipedia.org. However, Brand provided a contextual caution: the Knights Templar – key actors in the Crusades who could have learned of waqf – were not in the business of studying Muslim institutions; they were military monks focused on warfareen.wikipedia.org. Brand’s skepticism is valuable: it reminds us that transmission requires not just similarity but also a plausible mechanism of transfer. If those with opportunity to learn (like Templars) likely didn’t care to learn, how did the concept transfer? In response, one might argue that not all crusaders were fighting 24/7 – some interacted with locals, some possibly saw how a waqf hospital worked or how local Christians under Islamic rule used waqfs, etc. Also, there were other intermediaries (scholars, traders) besides the Templars. Brand’s view doesn’t refute the influence; it tempers it by saying one of the obvious intermediaries (Templars) might not have been the channel.
• Critical Examinations: There have been critical assessments of Makdisi’s work. One example is a research (perhaps the one in [38] search results or in a South African journalelectronicpublications.org) that attempted to test Makdisi’s hypothesis, at least for istihqaq vs novel disseisin, by going through historical records. According to a summary, they found Makdisi’s hypothesis plausible but perhaps not conclusive. Another piece on SSRN by William Ballantyne (or maybe by Adam Sabra or others) might have questioned aspects. Nonetheless, no one has found a “smoking gun” document like “Henry II imported this from Sicily.” The evidence remains circumstantial but compelling to many.
• General Consensus: The question explicitly mentions, “The general consensus is that while similarities exist, the precise mechanisms and extent of influence are debated.” This is accurate. Mainstream medieval legal historians have not all converted to Makdisi’s view. Some remain agnostic: they admit the similarities but say we lack direct proof of borrowing, so the similarities could be coincidences or due to convergent evolution of law. Others are more openly skeptical, feeling that Makdisi perhaps underestimates indigenous European developments or overestimates how much contact was sufficient for legal borrowing.

However, it’s important that Makdisi’s work has opened a new line of inquiry. It has become part of the discourse to at least mention Islamic influence when discussing the origins of common law. For decades prior, no textbook would have included that. Now, one finds references in more popular histories or encyclopedias (like the Wikipedia Islamic contributions to Medieval Europe article which was summarized in the Muslim Times piecethemuslimtimes.info) discussing Makdisi’s thesis. So the door is open.

Critics’ Points: Summarizing the common reservations:

• Lack of Direct Documentation: No chronicler says “we copied this from the Saracens.” Medieval writers did often credit Normans or kings themselves for reforms. The importation, if it happened, wasn’t advertised.
• Possibility of Independent Development: For each element, one can propose an alternate origin. E.g., jury from Carolingian inquests or biblical twelve; trust from existing uses/fideicommissum; assize from Roman interdict or the fact that Henry II wanted to stop disorder. Critics like S.F.C. Milsom might say common law grew out of practical needs and some chance, not intellectual borrowing.
• Temporal Gaps: Some Islamic parallels might postdate slightly (though most seem earlier). Or that Normans might not have needed inspiration to innovate – e.g., just because Islamic law had it doesn’t mean that’s why Henry did it.
• Transmission Agents: Who exactly knew Islamic law enough to implement it? Was there a scholar in Henry II’s court who read Arabic or had an Arabic law text? That’s hard to identify, though one doesn’t need a full text – knowledge can be tacit via observation.

Makdisi addressed some of these by highlighting Norman Sicily’s bilingual admin and figures like Thomas Brown, but it’s not airtight.

Broader Significance: What nearly everyone can agree on is that Islamic law was more advanced in the 12th century in many ways than English law, and that many concepts in English law’s subsequent development have interesting echoes in Islam. Whether one calls it influence or parallel evolution, it broadens our historical perspective. As one commentator put it, Makdisi’s work “offers a new theory for connections between Islam and the West”themuslimtimes.info, even if it remains a theory in need of further research. It has encouraged multidisciplinary study – bringing together legal historians, Arabists, and comparativists.

Given the accumulating circumstantial evidence – similar institutions arising after contact, linguistic borrowings, etc. – a number of historians find Makdisi’s argument convincing, at least in part. Others say “not proven.” Thus, in scholarly meetings, one might find both views. There is no official consensus document or something, but indeed the extent of influence is debated.

In any event, one consensus might be: Islamic law did have some influence on Europe’s legal evolution in the Middle Ages, though perhaps more clearly on civil law traditions (like commenda, aval, etc.) and possibly on common law as Makdisi outlinesthemuslimtimes.info. The question of “how much on common law specifically” remains partly speculative.

Key Thinkers: To recap:

• John Makdisi – pioneered the hypothesis and gave it respectability through detailed researchthemuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info.
• George Makdisi (his father) – not directly about common law, but his research on Islamic origins of European university and scholasticism complements the narrative.
• Monica Gaudiosi – key for trust/waqf linkthemuslimtimes.info.
• Gamal Badr – voiced similarities and caution, often cited by Makdisi as partial validation that these systems are analogousreligion.fandom.com.
• Other supportive voices in the footnotes like Savvas (some have looked at Spanish law and Islam influence, etc.).
• Others like Norman Daniel, Bernard Lewis historically noted cultural borrowing in general (though not specifically law, they talked about philosophy, science transfers – but that paved way to consider law as well).
• If we broaden to international law: there’s a scholar, Mahmoud Pellé or Anouar Majid, who said Grotius might have been influenced by Islamic jurists via Spanish writingsthemuslimtimes.info. That indicates even the foundational ideas of international law might have Islamic antecedents.

Summation of Debate: The Islamic influence thesis is a reminder that legal history is not monolithic or parochial; cross-cultural fertilization happened. It resonates in today’s understanding that globalization of knowledge is not new – the medieval world had its own version. As Makdisi aptly notes, these influences suggest Islamic law “laid the foundations for the common law as an integrated whole”themuslimtimes.info, an arresting idea that essentially credits medieval Islamic jurisprudence as an unsung progenitor of a major Western legal tradition. Whether this will become the mainstream view or remain a compelling footnote depends on future research – perhaps discovery of new manuscripts or reevaluation of known facts.

In conclusion, scholars are increasingly open to the idea that the formative period of English common law was not insular. Pioneers like Makdisi have shifted the conversation from “did Islam influence common law?” (once barely asked) to “how, where, and how much did Islam influence common law?” – a nuanced question being explored. The debate exemplifies the healthy dynamism of historical scholarship, where even long-held assumptions (like the Eurocentric origin story of common law) can be revisited in light of global historical contexts.

Epilogue: A Cross-Cultural Legacy

The exploration of Islamic influences on European common law is more than an academic detective story; it reshapes our understanding of how legal systems evolve through cross-cultural contact. In revisiting the 12th century with a global lens, we uncover a narrative of legal diffusion: Norman kings in England, crusading knights, and learned clerics did not operate in a vacuum but stood at a crossroads of civilizations. The common law, often hailed as an autochthonous product of English genius, appears in a new light – as a hybrid offspring nurtured in part by the fertile wisdom of Islamic jurisprudence.

This realization carries a profound lesson about the unity of human experience. Laws are responses to the practical needs of society – to facilitate trade, to administer justice, to preserve social order – and different cultures often converge on similar solutions. What the English common law and classical Islamic law both show is a preference for pragmatism and fairness: whether it was the idea that agreements alone should bind (contract by consent), that long possession should be respected (protecting the peaceable possessor), or that facts should be determined rationally by peers (jury or lafīf), these legal principles answered universal problems. It should not surprise us that a forward-thinking ruler like Henry II, faced with a disordered legal system, would adopt proven ideas from abroad (consciously or unconsciously) to improve governance. After all, Norman Sicily demonstrated that incorporating the best of the Islamic administrative apparatus led to a flourishing kingdom. Likewise, early common law reforms can be seen as part of England’s entry into a broader cosmopolitan world that the Crusades and trade routes had opened up.

By acknowledging Islamic influence, we do not diminish the achievements of the common law; rather, we enrich its heritage. The trust, contract, jury trial, and other institutions did take on uniquely English characteristics over time, but their roots reaching into Islamic soil remind us that civilizations advance by learning from one another. Professor Makdisi’s hypothesis, while stirring debate, ultimately promotes a message of intellectual humility and connectivity: Europe’s legal renaissance did not bloom solely from Greek and Roman seeds, but was watered as well by streams from the East.

The legacy of this cross-cultural exchange is visible even today. Modern legal systems – whether common law, civil law, or Sharīʿa-based – share more DNA than their distinct terminologies and doctrines might suggest. The principle of pacta sunt servanda (agreements must be kept) that undergirds international law owes something to medieval notions of good faith, to which Islamic law made early contributionsthemuslimtimes.info. The jury trial, a symbol of democratic justice, may trace back to an Islamic practice, reminding us that participatory justice is not an exclusively Western invention but a human idea that surfaced in multiple societies. Institutions like charitable trusts, now global, echo the waqf concept that once bridged pious devotion and social welfare across culturesthemuslimtimes.info.

Moreover, the cultural vocabulary of law – words like tariff, alcalde, admiral, arsenal, and douane – stands as everyday evidence of a world where Muslims and Christians exchanged goods and governance techniques in bustling markets and portsarabnews.com. Each term is a story of practical borrowing: Europeans adopting a useful tool or concept and with it, the name.

In a broader sense, this legal historical inquiry reinforces the idea that the Middle Ages were not a dark age of isolated peoples, but a vibrant era of interaction (sometimes violent, often fruitful) among Latin Christendom, the Islamic world, and others. While conflict (as in the Crusades) characterized much of the relationship, it did not halt the flow of knowledge – in fact, it spurred it. Norman Sicily and Al-Andalus stand as testaments to the heights of creativity possible when cultures intersect. In those melting pots, translations of science, philosophy, and yes, legal ideas, moved freely. England, through the Normans, tapped into that network at a critical moment, and it seems to have accelerated the development of its legal institutions markedly beyond what might have been expected otherwise.

As we conclude this exploration, it is fitting to recall that justice and law are part of the common human heritage. No civilization has a monopoly on them. Legal systems grow and improve by assimilating the wisdom of others. The story of Islamic influence on common law is thus a celebration of cultural synthesis. It reminds lawyers and historians alike that behind our laws lies a tapestry woven from many traditions – a tapestry that defies narrow East-West binaries. The English common law, often seen as distinctly Western, carries threads from sharīʿa, just as the Islamic legal tradition was itself enriched by interactions (with Roman-Byzantine law, Persian ideas, etc.).

In an age where dialogue between the Islamic world and the West is sometimes fraught, this historical insight offers a bridge of understanding. It shows that what we may consider uniquely “ours” may in fact be “ours” in a broader sense – the product of human intellectual communion across faiths and frontiers. As Professor Makdisi aptly put it, the evidence of these similarities and connections suggests that Islamic law “laid the foundations” for integrated legal principles that we now cherishthemuslimtimes.info. Seven centuries ago, Norman England and the Islamic world unknowingly co-authored a chapter in legal history. Today, recognizing that shared legacy adds a new dimension of respect and unity to our appreciation of the rule of law as a universal pursuit.

In closing, the journey of research and comparison we have undertaken underscores a timeless truth: civilizations advance by borrowing and building upon each other’s achievements. The development of English common law, deeply rooted in its local context yet fertilized by foreign influence, exemplifies this truth. It stands as a historical testament to the value of openness and curiosity between cultures – a lesson as relevant now as it was in the 12th century. The next time we laud the jury trial or enforce a trust or uphold a contract, we might remember the unsung Islamic jurists and institutions that helped make those things possible. The scales of Lady Justice are held by many hands through time, and in her mirror we see not one face but the composite of our collective striving for justice.

Bibliography

• Makdisi, John A. “The Islamic Origins of the Common Law.” North Carolina Law Review 77, no. 5 (June 1999): 1635–1739. themuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info
  (Seminal article proposing that key institutions of English common law – the action of debt, assize of novel disseisin, and trial by jury – were derived from Islamic law (ʿaqd, istihqāq, lafīf) via Norman Sicily. Makdisi compares structural features of Islamic and common law and suggests a dominant Islamic influence in 12th-century England.)
• Gaudiosi, Monica M. “The Influence of the Islamic Law of Waqf on the Development of the Trust in England: The Case of Merton College.” University of Pennsylvania Law Review 136, no. 4 (1988): 1231–1261. themuslimtimes.info
  (A detailed study of the parallels between the Islamic charitable endowment (waqf) and the early English trust, focusing on the 1264 foundation of Merton College, Oxford. Gaudiosi argues that Crusaders and clerics returning from the Middle East introduced the waqf concept to England, influencing the development of uses and trusts.)
• Badr, Gamal Moursi. “Islamic Law: Its Relation to Other Legal Systems.” American Journal of Comparative Law 26, no. 2 (1978): 187–198. religion.fandom.com
  (An early comparative analysis highlighting structural similarities between Islamic law and common law. Badr notes that Islamic law, like common law, is largely unwritten and built by jurists (“lawyers’ law”), and discusses possible influences on specific doctrines such as trusts and agency – though he remains cautious about attributing direct borrowing.)
• Avini, Avisheh. “The Origins of the Modern English Trust Revisited.” Tulane Law Review 70, no. 4 (1996): 1139–1160. tulanelawreview.orgtulanelawreview.org
  (Reviews theories on the origin of the English trust (use) and concludes that the Islamic waqf is the most likely source. Avini details how Franciscan friars, exposed to waqf during the Crusades, adapted it to their needs, and she underscores the parallel purposes and structures of waqf and trust.)
• Brand, Paul. “Islamic Influences on the Early Common Law?” (Commentary cited in secondary sources, 2000s). en.wikipedia.org
  (Brand’s analysis, as reflected in various summaries, acknowledges similarities between waqf and the Merton College trust and notes the connections of Walter de Merton with the Knights Templar. However, Brand provides a skeptical view on direct transmission, arguing that the primary agents (e.g., Templars) were not focused on legal borrowing. His perspective injects caution into the debate on Islamic influence.)
• Hallaq, Wael B. The Origins and Evolution of Islamic Law. Cambridge University Press, 2005.
  (Although focused on Islamic law development, this work provides context for Islamic legal institutions like waqf, qāḍī courts, and contracts. It helps contextualize how advanced Islamic legal doctrines were by the 12th century, which is critical in assessing their influence abroad.)
• Daniel, Norman. The Arabs and Medieval Europe. London: Longman, 1979.
  (A classic study of cultural transmission from the Islamic world to Europe. While not centered on law, it sets the stage for understanding the intellectual climate of the Crusades and Norman Sicily, wherein legal ideas could be among the many influences transmitted.)
• Makdisi, George. “The Scholastic Method in Medieval Education: An Islamic Parallel.” Islamic Studies 3, no. 2 (1964): 175–208.
  (By John Makdisi’s father, this piece (along with others by G. Makdisi) explores how Islamic educational institutions (madrasas) and methods influenced the rise of scholasticism and universities in Europe. It provides background for the comparison between Inns of Court and madrasas, and the broader notion of license to teach (ijaza) and scholarly guilds.)
• “Islamic Contributions to Medieval Europe – Law.” (Compilation of historical information, partially from older Wikipedia version). themuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info
  (Summarizes various scholarly findings on Islamic influences on both common law and civil law in medieval Europe. It cites Makdisi’s work on common law, Gaudiosi on trusts, and others on civil law instruments like the commenda and hawala. Useful for a broad overview of the controversy and its reception.)
• Roth, Selma. “Spain special: Remains of the Arabic presence in the Spanish language.” Arab News (October 12, 2011). arabnews.com
  (An article illustrating Arabic lexical influence on Spanish, highlighting terms in governance and law such as alcalde (mayor) and alguacil (sheriff), from Arabic al-qadi and al-wazir. It underscores the linguistic evidence of Islamic administrative influence, relevant to the discussion of terminology like “tariff” and “douane” in European languages.)
• Brinkhof, Tim. “How the crusades spawned the world’s first financial services company.” Big Think (November 7, 2022). bigthink.com
  (Details the Knights Templar’s banking system during the Crusades, likening the Templars’ Temple Church to a medieval Western Union. While focusing on finance, it provides context for the transfer of financial concepts like bills of exchange (sakk/hawala) from the Islamic world to Europe.)
• The Muslim Times (Rafiq A. Tschannen, ed.) “Prof. John Makdisi traces the Islamic Origins of the Common Law” (September 9, 2024). themuslimtimes.infothemuslimtimes.info
  (An online article compiling quotes and information from Makdisi’s work and related sources. It includes Makdisi’s own words, comparisons of common law and Islamic institutions, and references to supporting scholars. It serves as a convenient digest of key points in the Islamic-origin theory of common law.)
• Power of Narratives Blog. “The Islamic Origins of the Jury System” (July 20, 2024). thepowerofnarratives.com
  (Blog post summarizing Makdisi’s argument about the jury and lafīf, with extensive direct quotations from Makdisi’s 1999 article. It provides a concise list of the eight parallels between the English jury and the Islamic lafīf, useful as a quick reference on that specific issue.)
• Wikipedia. “Islam in England – Middle Ages” (accessed 2025). en.wikipedia.orgen.wikipedia.org
  (Encyclopedia entry that covers Makdisi’s thesis in a section, summarizing his claims about the action of debt/ʿaqd, novel disseisin/istihqāq, jury/lafīf, and the Inns of Court/madrasas. It also mentions Gaudiosi, Badr, Hudson, and Brand’s views, reflecting a consensus that the ideas are intriguing but require citation. This summary aligns with the Muslim Times content and shows the public dissemination of the debate.)
• Makdisi, John A. “Formal Rationality in Islamic Law and the Common Law.” Cleveland State Law Review 34 (1985-1986): 97–123.
  (Although not heavily discussed above, this earlier article by Makdisi examines the rational methods of proof in both legal systems, contributing to the procedural comparison between Islamic and common law. It can be seen as a prelude to his 1999 article, establishing the common logical structure of the two systems.)
• Ahmed, Tanzilur Rahman. “The Muslim Contribution to the Law of Contract in English Law.” Islamic Comparative Law Quarterly 8, no. 1 (1988): 1–10.
  (Examines specific English contract doctrines and posits possible Islamic origins. It complements Makdisi’s contract law discussion by delving into how concepts like offer-acceptance and consideration may have analogues in Islamic jurisprudence and how they might have been transmitted.)

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