
It often begins quietly. Phones unlocked and fingers hovering our daily scroll. A 30-second reminder on tawakkul (complete trust in Allah). A podcast reel on patience, framed against soft music and warm lighting. This scene is not foreign and a part of our daily lives. Sermons and lectures once confined within the walls of mosques and classrooms, are now streamed across various online spaces. For many Muslims, their online activities are perceived as part of their pious endeavours that contribute to their religiosity1. Contemporary religious discourse has broadened beyond its traditional textual and oral foundations with humour, storytelling and charismatic authority emerging as widely resonant approaches. It is often galvanised by the advent of new media logics2. Muslims no longer only have access to locally based or state-appointed religious scholars. New media are significant because of their unintended effects on ‘traditional forms of authority’ that can include by linearity, imitation and repetition3.
When the clerical structure of Islam meets with the decentralised Internet, it begs the question of who can speak for the community? When dynamics of authority shift based on informational architecture, the associated mode of communality shifts along with it. This could perhaps explain the success of Muslim ‘micro-intellectuals’ who operate largely on video-sharing sites4. The sermons from these preachers often gain significant amount of traffic across the Muslim world, especially if they are English speaking. These new ‘intellectuals’ can be argued as a novel alternative to authorities of traditional training and sources of knowledge. They appeal to the openness of Islamic legacy and to the idea that interpretation is required to meet the new challenges of contemporary society. It is largely a mistake to believe this shift signals a retreat in religiosity. Rather, it reflects a transformation in how religious knowledge and authority are organised under conditions of digital modernity. This article explores how religious authority in Islam has moved creatively into digital spaces and what this movement means for how Malay/Muslims in Southeast Asia (SEA), specifically Singapore, learn and live Islam. Hence, this article uses two related ideas: online religion and religion online.
Islamic learning in the Malay world has largely emphasised the necessity of berguru (Malay term for seeking knowledge from a teacher), a direct and embodied transmission of knowledge through a respectful, sustained teacher-student relationship6. In this model, religious authority remains hierarchical and grounded in lineage and discipline. In SEA, Islam has always been adaptive and locally rooted. Before the rise of digital media, religious lives were blended with mysticism, cultural practice and scholarly tradition. As such, religious expression in SEA has rarely been monolithic or monoethnic but instead, it has constantly been evolving and adaptive. Hence, to speak of a single ‘orthodox’ Islam in SEA risks overlooking its complexity. Contrary to early predictions by theorists such as Max Weber that modernity will deteriorate religiosity through ‘disenchantment’7, the late 20th century witnessed religious revivalism across the Muslim world8. Most sociologists believe this is not a time travel to the past but instead, a reconfiguration of religion in response to modern conditions.
‘Religion online’ refers to the digital extension of established religious institutions, organisations and pedagogies9. Interactions remain limited, while/and religious authority continues to be hierarchical and pre-established. Digital platforms function primarily as an extension of communications, rather than spaces of negotiation or reinterpretation. They disseminate sermons and livestream various religious classes through web-conferencing platforms, especially during the COVID-19 pandemic. Religion online preserves the continuity of berguru. In tightly regulated religious environments, hierarchies and systems often endure as religious knowledge and guidance are mediated through screens without much contestation. The bureaucratic nature in these environments naturally enacts precautions and criteria before any content is being placed online. It prioritises institutional goals of governance and doctrinal clarity. Hence, these practices extend religious infrastructures into digital spaces without fundamentally transforming existing authority structures. Islam remains familiar in form, just mediated closer through a screen. However, a growing phenomenon occurred alongside this scene.
‘Online religion’ on the other hand refers to how religious meanings are produced through digital practices themselves10. The religious experience is often largely transformative. Islam is not simply just being delivered, but its form and content often evolve through everyday engagement with affective resonance and relational interaction. Beyond official online platforms, Islam also circulates through algorithm-driven social media environments. It appears in podcasts, reels, and comment threads by almost anyone (and everyone), especially by media personalities and independent creators. In this sense, Islam becomes woven into the rhythms of our everyday digital life. On top of this, the emergence of algorithmic religious content illustrates how structures of proselytising have undergone significant transformations from traditional methods, such as physical sermons in mosques, to those transcending digital spaces. Thus, social media platforms function as alternative fields for the construction of authority, particularly in contexts where formal religious spaces may feel less dialogic or accessible.
Religious authority capitalises these spaces to accelerate their visibility and relevance through carefully curated aesthetics and algorithmic amplification, creating a persona that embodies authenticity and expertise. This is evident in how various mosques and asatizah (religious teachers) curate bite-sized informative posts and emotionally resonant video clips across social media platforms to communicate religious reminders to the community. Authority becomes decentralised where it shifts to a knowledge-charisma model, rooted in a mediated visuality and formal scholarship. This redistributes legitimacy across a wider-range of actors as the barriers to entry in these spaces are low. Subsequently, this enables more plural and contested forms of religious interpretation and influence. This begs the question on who gets to weigh in on religious debates. While contemporary online platforms do not make religious discourse ‘more public than in the past’, these algorithmic platforms facilitate religious discourse to be ‘public in different ways’ facilitating a more diverse and wider public. The ‘reels’ format in social media platforms today propels such transformation through 30-second clips. While these algorithmic creations are relatively novel, their ability to garner millions of people in minutes should not be underestimated.
Instagram and Tik Tok utilise ‘clustered publics’ rather than ‘network publics’ formed by interpersonal connection11. ‘Network publics’ are groups of users who gathered to communicate on digital platforms organically where exposure to content is heavily determined by who you friended who followed. ‘Clustered publics’ as a group of users gathered around content deemed by interest by recommender systems such as the ‘For You’ page on Tik Tok. This form of content consumption allows users to interact with algorithmic reels which boost the posts’ outreach. Subsequently, these creators convert engagement metrics into credibility where view counts and aesthetically curated visual reels reinforce the perception of religious relevance.
For digital-native Muslims, these online spaces often feel spiritually intimate – spaces where religion is experienced as immediately present. Islam is no longer discussed only through abstract rulings, but through lived experiences that are embedded in everyday life. The voices in their headphones accompany them through ordinary moments, creating a sense of continuity between the digital and the devotional. Muslims feel ‘close’ to their asatizah as if they were in the same room. International preachers, such as Sheikh Omar Suleiman and Ustadha Shameem Sultanah, are often celebrated by many Muslims for their palatable, bite-sized forms designed in attempts to address people’s everyday life predicaments. The authority that an asatizah hold is no longer performed solely through their credentials; but enacted through tone, vulnerability, and perceived sincerity. A RIMA (2026) study on online Islamic content revealed that personalities with notions of politeness, calmness, approachability of these content creators often motivate individuals to continue engaging with the content shared12. The repeated exposure creates familiarity, which can be identified as ‘parasocial closeness’. However, despite this spiritual intimacy, digital religion expands both choice and responsibility. Religious guidance becomes something we scroll past, like everything else. The selective seeking of religious rulings across different sources becomes much easier and institutional authority often faces critique and comparison. Thus, digital platforms can accelerate individualisation, where this freedom can be empowering but also disorienting.
The boundaries between religious guidance and lifestyle media are becoming increasingly blurred. Islam is not only framed as a set of obligations but also as a resource for navigating modern life. Digital media highlights religiosity within realities of secular workplaces, rising living costs, and emotional burnout. For many urban Muslims, this makes Islam feel more liveable rather than burdensome.
However, when religious advice is packaged as lifestyle content, it risks being consumed rather than reflected upon. It becomes entangled in the logics of attention and branding. It does not circulate within a neutral space. Viewership is translated into a commodity. Provoking emotion and controversy with the commodity are often rewarded with visibility. While short-form clips democratise access, it simplifies the importance and complexity of understanding contexts. Dense theological debates become emotional soundbites. Controversial statements often spread faster than careful, thorough reasoning. Religion online and online religion are not opposing forces; they coexist where digital spaces stand as tall as the mosques. The ‘platformised piety’ is not simply a Western import that we can solely blame for this growing phenomenon. It is a locally adapted response in digitally wired societies. Face-to-face learning continues to carry a depth that no screens can replicate. The task ahead is not the full abolishment of digital religion, but instead the cultivation of a digital adab (etiquette). Learning to critically listen, seek depth beyond clips and remain grounded in a community, even as we scroll alone.
Wan Nur Zafirah is an aspiring sociologist at Nanyang Technological University, Singapore. Alongside her academic training, street photography is her creative practice that deepens her research conversations around urbanism, sustainability, religion and decoloniality.