Imām al-Bukhārī was ascending heights few had reached before him. In the year 250 AH, he arrived once again in Naysābūr. The city had been waiting for him—in eager waves. From children to elders, people poured out from two or three neighboring regions to welcome him. The reception was driven in part by the endorsement of the esteemed scholar of the town, Muḥammad ibn Yaḥyā al-Dhuhlī.
In one of his popular lectures, al-Dhuhlī announced, Muḥammad ibn Ismāʿīl al-Bukhārī is arriving in our city tomorrow. Whoever wishes to greet him, come forth. As for me, I will certainly go to welcome him.
The next morning, as sunlight spread over Naysābūr, so too did its people—crowds overflowing, led by none other than al-Dhuhlī himself. They welcomed Imām al-Bukhārī with admiration and honor, and soon, the Imam settled into a residence from where he began teaching.
His classes began modestly from within his home, but quickly, their fame surged. Students streamed in. Al-Dhuhlī told the people: “Go to that great man. Sit in his presence. Learn from him.”
And they did. The gathering around al-Bukhārī grew enormous—his home, its surroundings, even the rooftop teemed with eager learners. Many were already accomplished scholars.
But something darker began to stir in al-Dhuhlī’s heart. Envy.
He soon began to shift his tone.
“Do not ask him questions about theology,” he warned. “If he says something that differs from our accepted beliefs, it could create division. And the groups that already oppose us—like the Jahmīs, the Murjiʾīs, the Rāfiḍīs, the Nāsibīs—will use it against us.”
Still, the number of students around al-Bukhārī only grew. Some of the most respected minds of the time crowded his circles. Within days of his arrival, one man in a session asked al-Bukhārī a question related to theology.
The Imam answered with grace and clarity.
But his words were twisted. Some misinterpreted—or deliberately distorted—his statement as a claim that the Qur’an was a creation of Allah. Others, more honest, testified: he never said that. What he had actually clarified was the traditional Sunni position: “The Qur’an is the uncreated Speech of Allah. At the same time, human actions are created by Allah.”
But a group merged these two statements maliciously, claiming the Imam believed the Qur’an itself was created.
A month passed. Then came the blow.
Al-Dhuhlī declared publicly: “Anyone who attends al-Bukhārī’s gatherings is no longer welcome in mine. Scholars from Baghdad have written to me about some of his problematic views. They tried to convince him to retract, but he refused. Do not go near him. If you do, don’t return to me.”
Muḥammad ibn Shāssil recounts: “I visited al-Bukhārī and said, ‘Why is Ustād al-Dhuhlī turning people away from your gatherings?’”
Al-Bukhārī’s response was soft but steady: “It seems envy has crept into his heart—especially regarding knowledge. But knowledge is a gift from Allah, and He grants it to whomever He wills.”
Among those who continued to attend al-Bukhārī’s sessions daily was Imām Muslim ibn al-Ḥajjāj, compiler of Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim. He had also studied with al-Dhuhlī. Yet when this tension escalated, most scholars abandoned al-Bukhārī—except Muslim.
One day, al-Dhuhlī made a pointed remark in his class: “Anyone who aligns themselves with that man’s views—let them not remain in my circle.”
He meant Muslim. Muslim immediately stood up, removed his cloak and turban, and walked out. Behind him rose Aḥmad ibn Salamah, another distinguished scholar. They left together.
Al-Dhuhlī’s voice thundered: “Either he or I shall remain in this city—not both!”
There was something political in his tone now. Not just theological difference—but rivalry. When this reached al-Bukhārī, he was grieved.
Aḥmad ibn Salamah came to him in Bukhārā and explained: “In this city, al-Dhuhlī is revered—especially here in Naysābūr. He has now turned against you openly. None of us dares to even speak to him.”
On hearing this, al-Bukhārī lowered his head, his beard trembling. Then he looked up and said: “I leave all my affairs to Allah. He sees all His servants. O Allah, You know well—I did not come to Naysābūr out of pride or self-promotion. I did not seek power or position. But he has envied what You have given me. I have now decided: I will leave this city. Let them win, if that will ease their hearts.”
He turned to Aḥmad and added: “Aḥmad… I will depart tomorrow itself. I don’t want you or any of my companions to face hardship because of me.”
Thus, with quiet dignity and no bitterness, al-Bukhārī chose to leave. Not defeated—but victorious in honor.
He was cast out not because he failed, but because he shone too brightly in a room where shadows feared light.
