In the past few weeks I have read at least two well-written articles on the whole hood and hijab issue, or the choice to cover and how that head-covering can lead to many conclusions: freedom, oppression, discrimination, objectification, and in two recently unfortunate cases, even death. The topic to cover or not to cover, to cover partially, to cover completely, to uncover partially, to uncover completely is a hot and debatable one – clearly, because there are at least five options to answer this elusive MCQ. Everyone seems to look at this question with an objective stance, but strangely so, objectivity is a slippery slope, and somewhere down the journey to the summit of being purely reasonable, one slips into subjectivity. That is normal for everyone has a bias. A choice indicates a bias. But when it comes to answering that MCQ, something more than a choice is needed to motivate any of those five options. And this is where the fallacy of the argument lies. To cover or not to cover (and other branching shades of opinion) is really not a matter of choice. It is a matter of belief.
Anything that is a matter of belief, quite simply put, cannot be and should not be evaluated through logic, although many people believe that all beliefs are logical, or should be proven through logic. Belief, however is something purely emotional, and through the certainty of that emotion it might ascend to logic, or rather logical justification, but that in itself begs the question. An argument between an atheist and a theist is doomed to fail. They cannot be objective about their claims. An atheist believes that there is no God; a theist believes otherwise. And then they build their house of cards in which logic is appealed to, to justify and substantiate their beliefs. It is a matter of belief that God had a conversation with Moses. It is matter of belief that Jibrail had, and continued to have conversations with Muhammad (pbuh). It is matter of belief that Holy Scriptures are not just stories written by idle minds and eloquent hands. It a matter of belief that for someone they are just stories written and read to be inspired, or to inspire fear or love, that angels and God don’t exist and it is all a huge delusion of comfort and convenience. But even the delusionary are now questioning the authenticity of their claims, and so are recruiting to the idea of agnosticism, not either-or, but neither-here-nor-there. It all boils down to belief, and the conviction of that belief. It’s interesting to mention here that sociologist, Frank Furedi, in his latest book, “On Tolerance: In Defence of Moral Independence”, has analogized atheism, particularly New Atheism, with religious zealotry as both have followed and continue to follow the same strategy: to use and express their reality through doctrinaire language and sentiments. So the principle behind each belief-system is essentially the same. Only the mechanics vary: one accepts and affirms, the other rejects and negates.
Now the argument for the whole covering up issue is that it is professed as a matter of choice. Some can best define it as a moral choice. But then again who defines morality? Those who don’t do it think that it gives them liberation. Those who do it think it’s liberating. I came across a cartoony rendering of this idea on Facebook: there are two women, one is dressed in a burqa with only her eyes showing, the other in a bikini, with her eyes covered by sunglasses, and each looking at the other feeling sorry, the burqa-clad saying, “nothing covered but her eyes, what a cruel, male-dominated world”, and the bikini-clad saying, “everything covered but her eyes, what a cruel, male-dominated world.” The choice therefore is an either-or, and the denomination, as claimed by one writer who wrote vehemently against covering up (while thinking all along how objective the analysis was): it’s a cruel, male-dominated world that motivates or compels a woman to cover. Well, no doubts about that that the world is cruel and male-dominated. But the motivation and/or compulsion felt by a woman to observe purdah is what really needs to be analyzed. In actuality for those who believe in the idea and/or the act of covering up, it’s not a matter of choice, even though it is now construed as such due to convenience (on part of the construer). It might become that, but the choice is rooted in a belief in the idea that morality is not secular, that morality comes from some direction, that direction has to be perfect, and that perfection cannot come from man who is fallible and is known to err, but from the Divine that is infallible, and is known to forgive.
I am not going to present elaborate and innumerable religious citations to justify this point of contention. But I will present a secular maxim that is quoted often enough: when in Rome, do as the Romans do. Now if we are to extend this maxim to a metaphor, and equate the idea of Rome to the faith Islam, then the principle that becomes operative is to do as the Muslims do. And those who believe in the idea, ideology and idealism that Islam has offered, achieved and sought would agree that the best and real Muslims were those when Islam actually came into being, historically speaking. And as it’s best to lead and easy to follow by example, we had Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) demonstrate the faith in every way and form. And just as some things never change, we had a cruel, male dominated society even back then – that’s why it was called the Age of Ignorance that the ‘new’ faith sought to enlighten. But it was not the male voice of that enlightenment that asked the women to hush up their individuality, sit in a dark corner and cover up. The commandment, however, was just the last bit: to cover up. Hence it was not, and never a matter of convenient choice. The women heard not the voice of the man who forwarded this commandment, but the commandment itself. The women never followed the man in action; they had their own models and examples to follow and be led by: his wives. What their husband was and is for all men, they were and are for all women: examples. So this current claim that covering up should be contextualized as being historically relevant with no place in current times and therefore should be shelved should be shelved itself at least for those who believe in Islam, and the application of the Roman maxim.
Many also resort to the idea that covering up is an example of pervasive Arabisation that is slowly invading this part of the Muslim world. This is obviously linked to the historical contextual assumption. Islam was an Arab religion. The Prophet (pbuh) himself was Arab, by origin and identity. But he was never sent as an indigenous messenger whose job was to localize the message – a credential that was known for all his predecessors who professed faith to their communities alone. The message and the mission were and are for a universal audience. And so was its demonstration. It is true that in Saudi Arabia the general preference for the burqa is to have it in black – a color and a choice linked to their Bedouin culture. The Bedouins are denizens of the desert, and for them black is a commonsense choice. The burqa is now necessarily equated with the color black, but the color has nothing to do with the rationale behind the veil. Just as wearing mehndi on Eid is a Pakistani expression to celebrate the religious occasion, the black burqa is an Arab outfit. The woman’s covering garment, however, need not be the ubiquitous black burqa that has in some cases has become a fashion-statement for the bourgeois begum as claimed by another author who wrote on this issue. Black has become a convenient and popular choice. The color or its choice is not part of the command. The command is to cover, and cover modestly.
And now comes the troubling and ever-elusive subject of modesty – the rationale behind covering up. One of the authors expressed her disapproval by stating that modesty cannot and should not be achieved through covering up. I cannot agree more – at least with the former claim. Modesty is a state of mind, a humble mind. But that state of mind is purely subjective, like a bias. A woman from a Muslim nation can put up naked pictures of herself on her blog to reveal her justified rebellion. Her intention in her mind at least is perfectly noble. However, someone who is viewing her nakedness and reveling in what she is revealing renders the protest redundant: she is seeking to inform others of how she was objectified and sexually assaulted, but someone is just pleasing their virility by simply not lowering their gaze and looking at her. The sexual assault and objectification that she was protesting against is being repeated. Not physically of course. But mentally – and the mind knows no inhibitions especially when the stimulus is so graphic. Those who fuel the porn industry can testify to this. So, a pure intention is being marred by the action. You can cover or not cover, but you cannot guarantee what the onlooker is thinking or feeling or imagining. Wearing a burqa (or not) does not guarantee that you are exempted from being an object. That’s why men were asked to lower their gaze first, an expression that was to achieve modesty of the mind and body, intention and action. And the culmination of that claimed modesty – if it was there in the first place – should be manifested in totality, in all four: mind, body, intention and action. You can intend that my intention is not to arouse, but if you’re giving them something to look at (or even nothing to look at for that matter), they’ll still get aroused – a simple biological reflex, stronger in some than in others, but present nevertheless. The burqa can be considered as a necessary and convenient filter. But there are no guarantees.
So then why cover? That’s a matter of belief and your choice to subscribe to that belief – and its own package deal. Covering up does not guarantee that you’re ending up in heaven. Neither does not covering up. It’s a popular understanding, that those who cover their faces with a cloth or a beard are the most corrupt and vindictive scum of the earth, or even terrorists for that matter – a hasty generalization of course, as was the case with Travyon Martin and Shaima Alawadi. But the resentment is justified, for those who do cover in the name of faith are bearing an emblem of piety, and to not fully meet the standards of the piety that that emblem should’ve intended to generate in the first place is a mockery of both the emblem and the professed piety. And piety is a private matter of the heart. No human can or should be a judge of that. Piety cannot be achieved by merely donning a garment, or shunning it. One has their whole life to practice the part and to perform. The applause (or the boos) will follow later. And the choice to agree to the metaphor and be convinced of its truth is an open question: a matter of belief.
Showing posts with label Clausette. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Clausette. Show all posts
Friday, April 13, 2012
Sunday, December 20, 2009
The Better Half
“And the moon is up and the stars are bright
And whatever come is gonna be all right” (Cloud # 9)
Sometimes, I think, we overestimate the value of stars. Quite simply speaking, they just have three very basic functions: of adornment, protection and direction. And the functions are simple enough, and somehow appear to be linked to each other – and rightly so. The vault is rendered beautiful by the presence of stars, and so their function is not merely aesthetical. It’s teleological in a sense: when there as an adornment, they then act as missiles for the rebels who love to disrupt the order of things. And so, finally, they act as tiny compass points for those who are lost. So the starry world begins in the name of Beauty, is made functional by sustaining the Good, and finally culminates in the recognition of Truth. Each function necessitates the other. Each becomes the other to make the perfect Whole, which could be a star, a Sign, or simply speaking, faith itself.
Faith is a tickly, prickly business. Without risk there is no faith. So faith, like risk, presumes trust. It’s simple – you toss a baby into the air and she finds that funny because she is so dead sure that you won’t drop her. That she won’t be dropped, not even carelessly. That she would be caught. And so she laughs because she enjoys the risk, the leap. But as the kid grows up, the grin eventually becomes a grimace – and she begins to panic. Taking risks is riskier than it sounds. And every leap is just suspended between “what if” and “how come”. There are so many delirious directions before you. And each direction appears to be appealing. One is tempted to try all. But only one can be the right way to go.
And then panic is met with paranoia. After all, you keep tracking these directions and all you gather is moonshine. You begin to question the whole logic of the Beauty, Goodness and Truth equation and its quality of being Q.E.D. Maybe it is all a delusion. And then you begin to take charge – and you plot your own plan. And don’t get me wrong here – plotting plans is good. Making graphs, setting reminders, meeting deadlines is all good. I plan for my class, let’s say. I make notes in my head. I read up on stuff. I figure out how I will deliver. I am totally, absolutely, comprehensively prepared. I plan for my life, let’s say. I make notes in my head. I read up on stuff. I figure out how I will deliver. I am totally, absolutely, comprehensively prepared. I feel invincible. But there’s one thing I didn’t factor in: the invisible Hand. And I think Hamlet and Horatio had a pretty cool conversation when Hamlet is trying to explain to him about this idea of ‘readiness.’ Let us know our indiscretion sometimes serves us well when our deep plots do pall; and that should learn us there’s a Divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will. And to that Horatio says: that is most certain. Rough-hew things as much as you want, and we come up with this elaborate, almost puzzling patchwork of plans. But every plan awaits a masterstroke. And we are too small to understand. That is exactly what I feel when I stare above and I see these perforated stars grinning down at me. I can only look up with this hope that I am being looked down upon. For I am too small too understand.
If without risk there is no faith, and risk presumes trust, it should naturally follow that trust requires faith, and vice-versa. Faith is best when blind as that is faith that needs no proof. And faith that needs proof is insecure, for it holds itself in doubt, wanting some validation. And that makes the slope even more slippery. You stumble. You fall. You blindly wait. And standing and waiting demands patience – that one actor, the coefficient that has been silently added to the equation that enables it to get to Q.E.D.
Not too ago, I was not a very patient person. To a large extent, I used to be a control freak. And control freaks are those maniacs who are terribly scared. That is why they just want stuff to be under control, not necessarily under their control (an erroneous reduction of the poor lot). And in essence then, the need for an Invisible Hand becomes superfluous. You begin to think that you’re invincible just because you think you can be a successful cartographer. You’ve perfected your plans, mapped out the course, done your research. So you’re all wised up. But when you take to the road – even though it might just be straight and smooth, you realize that you’re in it for a ride. And the ride’s not going to be easy. Don’t expect it to be – the Narrower, the Better They Say.
And during this road-trip you make stopovers. You go through your master map. You peruse it. You blink, twice. And the road stretches before you, straight, narrow, blank. And you’re super scared. And you say, “Hmmm, let me fix this. I can so fix this. ” You look at the map again. You’re lost. Now either you can look at the map, be wise enough to see its flaws, and hit the road. Or you can keep staring at the map, staring hard, with this hope that it might just begin to speak to you. But then you blink again. The road stretches and becomes a speck at the horizon. And you realize how small you are. How pathetic your plan was.
I tried both strategies. But I never let go of the map. Because I kept believing – falsely so – that I was a brilliant cartographer. I kept thinking that the map was all that I needed to keep me on the road. I am all that I need to keep me on the road. But then I couldn’t keep up. Being your own shepherd is hard, even though it feels great. You make your own rules, follow them when you want, occasionally defer them to some Higher authority for some incidental, and sometimes coincidental, and even accidental grace. But that’s about it. Deference implies admitting to one’s own paltriness - that you are smaller than a speck. And why make that confession? It’s too hard. It’s too insulting. I remember I found the whole idea of stoicism pretty interesting. Wo har ik baat pe kehna, ke youn hota tau kya hota? Ghalib poor thing is really misunderstood sometimes. Stoicism - or at least the abstract discussion of it - was perfectly in line with the idea of submission, to that which is Bigger and Better than you. And your silly little map. But I just saw it as an idea, and nothing more. It looked good on paper. That is all.
And then I was tested, and tested real bad. Sometimes I would question whether I am on the right road or not. And I tried to understand, slowly, that maps like mine cheapen the mystery of the masterstroke just as astrology cheapens the mystery of the cosmos. Stars do not reveal the future. They never did. We follow a lie, and base and raise all our truths from it and then stubbornly decide to live by them. Slowly, painfully slowly, I began to understand how small I really was. And that I didn’t really have much faith in me. I just wanted things done my way, and understood that to be the only way. And somehow I convinced myself into believing that my map must lead me to the beautiful goodness of truth. There can be no other way.
But I was proved wrong. And it first happened in a room. A checkpoint. I resisted and clutched my map harder. Like I said, I was super scared. And so I drove on, too arrogant to pause even though I wasn’t even asked to. And so it happened again in a corridor. And this time around, I stopped. And I was forced to tear the map. And I decided to follow the narrow, yellow brick road. I stopped setting risks based on my own assumptive resolutions. I decided to give faith a shot, and see what happens, where the road will go. I watched. And I waited as the road unraveled on its own. And I simply followed, wherever it went. Till now, I did not have the better, other half: I had no patience. So I deserved no faith. And so, in short, I was afraid.
And then I realized how simple it was. How simple it really is. One single, simple leap of faith, one plunge of trust and you’re pretty much there. And for once, I effaced all my plots and plans and sat with a blank canvas – a whiter, yet brighter shade of pale, awaiting that masterstroke.
Where it leads, what it beckons
Has to be what I have already known.
But I am deliberately blindfolded.
This mirror I clutch is baptized;
I am to see, with anticipation,
A spectrum of sought wonders
Framed in its round corners,
Perhaps locked for me to own,
And timelessly behold.
I turn to a white light to take my hand at this colorless stage.
And so I do. I have never traveled on this road like this before. It has never been this smooth. It has never been this speedy. It has never been this serene. But I now must fasten my seatbelt as I am told to – as it’s only safe I agree – and I must follow that out of love that I have found through submitting to this white light. Sometimes the light gets so bright and white that I savor the blindness of my newly found faith. I believe in Love now – totally. But only One Love that can be like the stars that only adorn, plus protect and so, direct. There is only One Way to get there. I still refuse to believe that it was written in the stars, for stars don’t have that silly, cheap function that cheapens the need to have an Unseen. I still refuse to believe that Love with the unseen for the Unseen is not possible. Once the grey rain-curtain is lifted, and beyond the silver glass, you see it, clearly. And you don’t need to blink twice. For the Unseen is enough for you to see.
Hasbiih Allahu wa Na‘imal Wakiil…
And whatever come is gonna be all right” (Cloud # 9)
Sometimes, I think, we overestimate the value of stars. Quite simply speaking, they just have three very basic functions: of adornment, protection and direction. And the functions are simple enough, and somehow appear to be linked to each other – and rightly so. The vault is rendered beautiful by the presence of stars, and so their function is not merely aesthetical. It’s teleological in a sense: when there as an adornment, they then act as missiles for the rebels who love to disrupt the order of things. And so, finally, they act as tiny compass points for those who are lost. So the starry world begins in the name of Beauty, is made functional by sustaining the Good, and finally culminates in the recognition of Truth. Each function necessitates the other. Each becomes the other to make the perfect Whole, which could be a star, a Sign, or simply speaking, faith itself.
Faith is a tickly, prickly business. Without risk there is no faith. So faith, like risk, presumes trust. It’s simple – you toss a baby into the air and she finds that funny because she is so dead sure that you won’t drop her. That she won’t be dropped, not even carelessly. That she would be caught. And so she laughs because she enjoys the risk, the leap. But as the kid grows up, the grin eventually becomes a grimace – and she begins to panic. Taking risks is riskier than it sounds. And every leap is just suspended between “what if” and “how come”. There are so many delirious directions before you. And each direction appears to be appealing. One is tempted to try all. But only one can be the right way to go.
And then panic is met with paranoia. After all, you keep tracking these directions and all you gather is moonshine. You begin to question the whole logic of the Beauty, Goodness and Truth equation and its quality of being Q.E.D. Maybe it is all a delusion. And then you begin to take charge – and you plot your own plan. And don’t get me wrong here – plotting plans is good. Making graphs, setting reminders, meeting deadlines is all good. I plan for my class, let’s say. I make notes in my head. I read up on stuff. I figure out how I will deliver. I am totally, absolutely, comprehensively prepared. I plan for my life, let’s say. I make notes in my head. I read up on stuff. I figure out how I will deliver. I am totally, absolutely, comprehensively prepared. I feel invincible. But there’s one thing I didn’t factor in: the invisible Hand. And I think Hamlet and Horatio had a pretty cool conversation when Hamlet is trying to explain to him about this idea of ‘readiness.’ Let us know our indiscretion sometimes serves us well when our deep plots do pall; and that should learn us there’s a Divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will. And to that Horatio says: that is most certain. Rough-hew things as much as you want, and we come up with this elaborate, almost puzzling patchwork of plans. But every plan awaits a masterstroke. And we are too small to understand. That is exactly what I feel when I stare above and I see these perforated stars grinning down at me. I can only look up with this hope that I am being looked down upon. For I am too small too understand.
If without risk there is no faith, and risk presumes trust, it should naturally follow that trust requires faith, and vice-versa. Faith is best when blind as that is faith that needs no proof. And faith that needs proof is insecure, for it holds itself in doubt, wanting some validation. And that makes the slope even more slippery. You stumble. You fall. You blindly wait. And standing and waiting demands patience – that one actor, the coefficient that has been silently added to the equation that enables it to get to Q.E.D.
Not too ago, I was not a very patient person. To a large extent, I used to be a control freak. And control freaks are those maniacs who are terribly scared. That is why they just want stuff to be under control, not necessarily under their control (an erroneous reduction of the poor lot). And in essence then, the need for an Invisible Hand becomes superfluous. You begin to think that you’re invincible just because you think you can be a successful cartographer. You’ve perfected your plans, mapped out the course, done your research. So you’re all wised up. But when you take to the road – even though it might just be straight and smooth, you realize that you’re in it for a ride. And the ride’s not going to be easy. Don’t expect it to be – the Narrower, the Better They Say.
And during this road-trip you make stopovers. You go through your master map. You peruse it. You blink, twice. And the road stretches before you, straight, narrow, blank. And you’re super scared. And you say, “Hmmm, let me fix this. I can so fix this. ” You look at the map again. You’re lost. Now either you can look at the map, be wise enough to see its flaws, and hit the road. Or you can keep staring at the map, staring hard, with this hope that it might just begin to speak to you. But then you blink again. The road stretches and becomes a speck at the horizon. And you realize how small you are. How pathetic your plan was.
I tried both strategies. But I never let go of the map. Because I kept believing – falsely so – that I was a brilliant cartographer. I kept thinking that the map was all that I needed to keep me on the road. I am all that I need to keep me on the road. But then I couldn’t keep up. Being your own shepherd is hard, even though it feels great. You make your own rules, follow them when you want, occasionally defer them to some Higher authority for some incidental, and sometimes coincidental, and even accidental grace. But that’s about it. Deference implies admitting to one’s own paltriness - that you are smaller than a speck. And why make that confession? It’s too hard. It’s too insulting. I remember I found the whole idea of stoicism pretty interesting. Wo har ik baat pe kehna, ke youn hota tau kya hota? Ghalib poor thing is really misunderstood sometimes. Stoicism - or at least the abstract discussion of it - was perfectly in line with the idea of submission, to that which is Bigger and Better than you. And your silly little map. But I just saw it as an idea, and nothing more. It looked good on paper. That is all.
And then I was tested, and tested real bad. Sometimes I would question whether I am on the right road or not. And I tried to understand, slowly, that maps like mine cheapen the mystery of the masterstroke just as astrology cheapens the mystery of the cosmos. Stars do not reveal the future. They never did. We follow a lie, and base and raise all our truths from it and then stubbornly decide to live by them. Slowly, painfully slowly, I began to understand how small I really was. And that I didn’t really have much faith in me. I just wanted things done my way, and understood that to be the only way. And somehow I convinced myself into believing that my map must lead me to the beautiful goodness of truth. There can be no other way.
But I was proved wrong. And it first happened in a room. A checkpoint. I resisted and clutched my map harder. Like I said, I was super scared. And so I drove on, too arrogant to pause even though I wasn’t even asked to. And so it happened again in a corridor. And this time around, I stopped. And I was forced to tear the map. And I decided to follow the narrow, yellow brick road. I stopped setting risks based on my own assumptive resolutions. I decided to give faith a shot, and see what happens, where the road will go. I watched. And I waited as the road unraveled on its own. And I simply followed, wherever it went. Till now, I did not have the better, other half: I had no patience. So I deserved no faith. And so, in short, I was afraid.
And then I realized how simple it was. How simple it really is. One single, simple leap of faith, one plunge of trust and you’re pretty much there. And for once, I effaced all my plots and plans and sat with a blank canvas – a whiter, yet brighter shade of pale, awaiting that masterstroke.
Where it leads, what it beckons
Has to be what I have already known.
But I am deliberately blindfolded.
This mirror I clutch is baptized;
I am to see, with anticipation,
A spectrum of sought wonders
Framed in its round corners,
Perhaps locked for me to own,
And timelessly behold.
I turn to a white light to take my hand at this colorless stage.
And so I do. I have never traveled on this road like this before. It has never been this smooth. It has never been this speedy. It has never been this serene. But I now must fasten my seatbelt as I am told to – as it’s only safe I agree – and I must follow that out of love that I have found through submitting to this white light. Sometimes the light gets so bright and white that I savor the blindness of my newly found faith. I believe in Love now – totally. But only One Love that can be like the stars that only adorn, plus protect and so, direct. There is only One Way to get there. I still refuse to believe that it was written in the stars, for stars don’t have that silly, cheap function that cheapens the need to have an Unseen. I still refuse to believe that Love with the unseen for the Unseen is not possible. Once the grey rain-curtain is lifted, and beyond the silver glass, you see it, clearly. And you don’t need to blink twice. For the Unseen is enough for you to see.
Hasbiih Allahu wa Na‘imal Wakiil…
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The Devil’s Advocate
I think it was necessary for Ivan in The Brothers Karamazov to meet The Devil. Maybe, I think, it is necessary to meet him sometimes. But what is freakier is that we meet him all the time. He’s here, there, everywhere. Maybe that is why God Chose to Disagree with the Property of Being Omnipresent. He’d rather be Omniscient – which is much cooler. In a way, it’s a bit cheap to be here, there and everywhere, like a stalker. But then again – that’s what he does best.
Beauty is the battlefield where God and the Devil contend with one another for the heart of man. I think it’s a bit disingenuous to claim that existentialists don’t really care about the God Question. Nowadays, we’ve gone a step further, delving into Dawkinsian delusions. When Iblis meets Ivan in the chapter that I have posted below, he tries to ‘deconstruct’ many of our delusions. And now see – Dostoevsky was writing this before 1880 – and he was able to resolve intriguing questions about God and morality, and the glue that holds us all together: freewill. And we are still scratching our heads wondering if really we are looking at the wrong answers. Forget asking the right questions. Even the Angels asked. And were duly Answered. But dialoging with the Devil can be pretty delirious, if not delusional. It seems that through Ivan, the disbeliever (I will not call him an unbeliever, as that would remove him from tragic grace which is the result of his fall), Dostoevsky was able to make the Devil elucidate comprehensively what he meant in his Khutbah in 14:22. He says:
Verily, Allah promised you a promise of truth. And I too promised you, but I betrayed you. I had no authority over you except that I called you, and you responded to me. So blame me not, but blame yourselves. I cannot help you, nor can you help me. I deny your former act in associating me as a partner with Allah. Verily, there is a painful torment for the Zalimun.
Now here’s the catch: the Devil is super-smart. From the very beginning – ab initio – he knew how to argue. He’s so intellectually sophisticated that he can easily be called the father of rhetoric. And we have always been told not to follow pathos and ethos during argumentation. Logos all the way – the mantra that’ll perhaps stall your fall from grace. So, he made a perfect case, which he presented quite logically. And he made perfect sense. I’m made out of fire, this random doll is made out of clay. I’ve served you more, this random doll is a lousy new arrival. And therefore, it so follows, that I am better than him. Which he was, he still is, for he always wins, every case, every situation. As Al Pacino said in the movie to Kevin, “Who could deny that the 20th century wasn’t mine… it was mine. All of it.” And that’s a claim and a conclusion which is a bit hard to defend.
And so, ex post facto, the battle began. And Adam was the first bait. But if he’s saying that he has no authority over us, then what’s the problem. The Devil does not believe in possession really. If possessed, the game is over. What’s thrilling about the sport is the chase. It’s the chase that allows you to outwit, maneuver, manipulate, charm, and so, deceive: and I ‘too’ promised – but I betrayed you. A failed promise is a much tragic thing than a false promise. The problem is that he has advocated a case for a promise whose falsehood is its, and so, our failure. Almost all of us, who agree with him, in word or deed, believe and so incarnate his primeval smugness – I am better than him. Interestingly and ironically enough, in Arabic the word ‘ghuroor’ which we normally understand as arrogance is translated as “delusion”. And that’s what’s the rat-race is about: The blind leading the blind in the dark, each one chanting how he is (was) better than the other, in one way or the other. You can practically hear the angels saying, tsk tsk tsk. And Iblis perhaps doing the same. The only difference is that he’ll probably have a grin on his face. My translation of the novel sums this up perfectly: “If my thoughts agree with yours, it only does me honour,” the gentleman said with dignity and tact.
“My dear friend, above all things I want to behave like a gentleman and to be recognized as such,” the visitor began in an access of deprecating and simple-hearted pride, typical of a poor relation. “I am poor, but... I won’t say very honest, but... it’s an axiom generally accepted in society that I am a fallen angel. I certainly can't conceive how I can ever have been an angel. If I ever was, it must have been so long ago that there’s no harm in forgetting it. Now I only prize the reputation of being a gentlemanly person and live as I can, trying to make myself agreeable. I love men genuinely, I've been greatly calumniated! Here when I stay with you from time to time, my life gains a kind of reality and that's what I like most of all. You see, like you, I suffer from the fantastic and so I love the realism of earth. Here, with you, everything is circumscribed, here all is formulated and geometrical, while we have nothing but indeterminate equations!”
And that is this biggest promise that is fulfilled by us on the other side: we decide what the Devil desires and make him real, by being so agreeable. And that is the Devil’s defence – to self-deprecate, and out of that self-deprecation, rises a false, failed sense of guilt to combat that sorry state of pity, and this guilt tempts one to feel secure, and so, a bit too sure, and ipso facto, one is deluded into believing that everything is circumscribed, while in reality, it’s nothing but indeterminate equations fumbling to reach quod erat demonstrandum or better recognized as QED.
Hecate made perfect sense when she said, “Security is mortals’ chiefest enemy.” And it was Iblis’s too. Inil kafiroona illa fee ghuroor. He Calls them disbelievers too – perhaps Allowing that trial and error – that margin to be saved from further tragically falling from grace…in the pits, literally.
Beauty is the battlefield where God and the Devil contend with one another for the heart of man. I think it’s a bit disingenuous to claim that existentialists don’t really care about the God Question. Nowadays, we’ve gone a step further, delving into Dawkinsian delusions. When Iblis meets Ivan in the chapter that I have posted below, he tries to ‘deconstruct’ many of our delusions. And now see – Dostoevsky was writing this before 1880 – and he was able to resolve intriguing questions about God and morality, and the glue that holds us all together: freewill. And we are still scratching our heads wondering if really we are looking at the wrong answers. Forget asking the right questions. Even the Angels asked. And were duly Answered. But dialoging with the Devil can be pretty delirious, if not delusional. It seems that through Ivan, the disbeliever (I will not call him an unbeliever, as that would remove him from tragic grace which is the result of his fall), Dostoevsky was able to make the Devil elucidate comprehensively what he meant in his Khutbah in 14:22. He says:
Verily, Allah promised you a promise of truth. And I too promised you, but I betrayed you. I had no authority over you except that I called you, and you responded to me. So blame me not, but blame yourselves. I cannot help you, nor can you help me. I deny your former act in associating me as a partner with Allah. Verily, there is a painful torment for the Zalimun.
Now here’s the catch: the Devil is super-smart. From the very beginning – ab initio – he knew how to argue. He’s so intellectually sophisticated that he can easily be called the father of rhetoric. And we have always been told not to follow pathos and ethos during argumentation. Logos all the way – the mantra that’ll perhaps stall your fall from grace. So, he made a perfect case, which he presented quite logically. And he made perfect sense. I’m made out of fire, this random doll is made out of clay. I’ve served you more, this random doll is a lousy new arrival. And therefore, it so follows, that I am better than him. Which he was, he still is, for he always wins, every case, every situation. As Al Pacino said in the movie to Kevin, “Who could deny that the 20th century wasn’t mine… it was mine. All of it.” And that’s a claim and a conclusion which is a bit hard to defend.
And so, ex post facto, the battle began. And Adam was the first bait. But if he’s saying that he has no authority over us, then what’s the problem. The Devil does not believe in possession really. If possessed, the game is over. What’s thrilling about the sport is the chase. It’s the chase that allows you to outwit, maneuver, manipulate, charm, and so, deceive: and I ‘too’ promised – but I betrayed you. A failed promise is a much tragic thing than a false promise. The problem is that he has advocated a case for a promise whose falsehood is its, and so, our failure. Almost all of us, who agree with him, in word or deed, believe and so incarnate his primeval smugness – I am better than him. Interestingly and ironically enough, in Arabic the word ‘ghuroor’ which we normally understand as arrogance is translated as “delusion”. And that’s what’s the rat-race is about: The blind leading the blind in the dark, each one chanting how he is (was) better than the other, in one way or the other. You can practically hear the angels saying, tsk tsk tsk. And Iblis perhaps doing the same. The only difference is that he’ll probably have a grin on his face. My translation of the novel sums this up perfectly: “If my thoughts agree with yours, it only does me honour,” the gentleman said with dignity and tact.
“My dear friend, above all things I want to behave like a gentleman and to be recognized as such,” the visitor began in an access of deprecating and simple-hearted pride, typical of a poor relation. “I am poor, but... I won’t say very honest, but... it’s an axiom generally accepted in society that I am a fallen angel. I certainly can't conceive how I can ever have been an angel. If I ever was, it must have been so long ago that there’s no harm in forgetting it. Now I only prize the reputation of being a gentlemanly person and live as I can, trying to make myself agreeable. I love men genuinely, I've been greatly calumniated! Here when I stay with you from time to time, my life gains a kind of reality and that's what I like most of all. You see, like you, I suffer from the fantastic and so I love the realism of earth. Here, with you, everything is circumscribed, here all is formulated and geometrical, while we have nothing but indeterminate equations!”
And that is this biggest promise that is fulfilled by us on the other side: we decide what the Devil desires and make him real, by being so agreeable. And that is the Devil’s defence – to self-deprecate, and out of that self-deprecation, rises a false, failed sense of guilt to combat that sorry state of pity, and this guilt tempts one to feel secure, and so, a bit too sure, and ipso facto, one is deluded into believing that everything is circumscribed, while in reality, it’s nothing but indeterminate equations fumbling to reach quod erat demonstrandum or better recognized as QED.
Hecate made perfect sense when she said, “Security is mortals’ chiefest enemy.” And it was Iblis’s too. Inil kafiroona illa fee ghuroor. He Calls them disbelievers too – perhaps Allowing that trial and error – that margin to be saved from further tragically falling from grace…in the pits, literally.
Monday, October 19, 2009
6:103
Cameras can be pretty cool. And these CCTVs are even cooler. The whole Panopticon deal – where do you go, there are just everywhere, watchful, unblinking, just gazing with that steady, stolid, super-sharp sight. You cannot hide. And with Carl Zeiss it’s all got sharper. But there’s a limit. There are corners. There are frames. All sharpened edges that pretend to preserve the picture. And I said this couple of years ago – that an image is not creation. There is something very art-ificial about images. Quite simply, they are just not real enough. No matter how much I try to capture detail by zooming in, it gets blurred. The more you delve deeper, the more it distorts. After all, how fine can pixels be? Not finer than atoms I imagine. But then again, even the imagination has its limits. And you need to blink it out and enter your simple, inadequate blackout. The zulm of the Zulimaat.
Now enter passages. Or passageways. And you see these signs and symbols and so many arrows pointing in delirious directions. But you need to look up. And you see the ceiling stretching out above you. Like the Vault above. And there are seven of them. And then there is a Beyond. The ceiling is shrinking. How further can it go, you imagine. You see it merging, converging and then you see it – see what – what you can imagine: the point where the divergent directions become one into a single point. And then you see it sharply maybe. And that we are moving, moving a bit too fast, in the same direction, towards that one Point. In architecture and art, this mathematically technical concept is called the Vanishing Point. One of my momentary art teachers said that it’s “…the point where our vision ends, and His Vision Begins.” That stayed with me, and intrigued me quite a bit. And then I saw it, again. How small everything is. No matter how many CCTVs are watching, some man is still shot. Some woman is still mugged. Some kid is still run over. And it happens in a second. But guess what. Something Happened Once-Upon-a-Time, in less than a trillionth of a second, and galaxies, far, far away came rumbling through Passageways. And the Be became a Light so White and Powerful that many black-holes just stood gaping blindly in the dark. And the rest, as they say, is history. We all came stumbling through, sweeping through our rabbit-holes and are still somehow trying to reach that Light at the End of the Tunnel. We are moving there. Just like the ceiling that is trailing towards its own point, just like the skies (all 7 of them) are vaulting Up towards the same point. The sun will blink out. We all need to shed our loads as there is too much to transmit all the time to so many. We phase out. We burn out. We all will blink out, eventually.
And so the camera relies on the mechanism of the eye. Art is either plagiarism or revolution. I can’t agree with Gaugin more. It is that desperate attempt to capture, preserve, and to somehow make things somewhat understandable. Or meaningful. Or even possible. Plagiarism and revolution both need some form of inspiration to become either. An artist is always frustrated with this need and hope to be understood. So an expression gives embodiment to what an artist wants to articulate. But then how much (or how little?) can a camera capture? How far can the Panopticon reach? Bentham and Zeiss have excellent minds, and sharper visions, but every eye has its blunt, blind-spot. There is something going on the other side, outside the frame, behind the scenes, below the earth, inside the sea. The very limitation of our vision – and you don’t need to be a Gaugin, Bentham or Zeiss to see that – is enough to make us understand that something goes on even inside a pixel and an atom. Every ceiling, every floor is stretching out, away, into a speck of distance. And we are in between. The lens, the flash, the lights and action – it’s an enter-and-exit situation, down to the final curtain-call, to fadeout.
Now let’s see a bit more closely. First it was all dark. But then there was Light. And now there is Light upon Light. And all we see are metaphors around us – that approximating and asymptotically frustrating attempt to intend or extend our very limits to see, and so believe. One metaphor would suffice to illuminate the point. Take a look at stars for instance. The true and so, only functions of stars are that they guide the traveler (so they act as compass points), they adorn and they fortify the heavens (so even God has an aesthetic and a pragmatic sense that go together). So against the black-hole sky, the only heavenly evidence is that of those bright stars as they look down upon us (if we see them as specks, they don’t see us any differently). In a sense, it’s only the stars that pointedly remind us of our smallness, even pettiness before the heavens. But the function of the stars is not merely heavenly. They’re always Switched on – through night and day – for those who might lose their way – which we all do. Look up, and you just might find an answer there. Plus, they look pretty. And plus they act as missiles to keep the bad guys away. And later on, the fascination with stars developed into astronomy that furthered into astrology – all attempts to ‘figure out’ things, approximating calculations and decisions and revisions to map stuff out. We desperately try to see through these metaphors so that we can have some meaning. But we don’t see enough, or see closely. And perhaps we are not supposed to see so much. Astronomers and astrologers for sure are always talking tentatively. They are always speaking in signs. For over-explanation and over-simplification, “cheapens the mystery of the cosmos.” I don’t know if Delores Macuccho is a real author. But the woman is true about this. How much or far words can stretch themselves to make meaning possible (if not entirely meaningful) shows that words, like artists, need to explain, capture and preserve. And so metaphors can only attempt to make understanding possible. But without metaphors explanation would be impossible. You need a star to make you see that heavenly bodies exist. You need darkness to know that Light must exist. And the limitation of the metaphor to approximate the truth in itself is an explanation that there is a Bigger Truth Out there. Sitaron se aagey jahaan aur bhi hain… which could (possibly) mean, beyond the stars, Other Worlds exist. Or, beyond the stars Where Others also exist. Take your pick – the metaphor only suggests. Iqbal is long-gone to decode the verse.
The metaphor, then, is merely extending itself to intend a meaning. There is a limit to what we can see. And so, there must be a Truth in some Other World out there that is so vast that it has to elude meaning, for meaning would place a limit on it, make it human, and in doing so, would only be able to or would tend to offer a tentative approximation. There has to be a Light that is unlike everything that we have or can possibly see. That light has to be something, or Someone that can only be explained – for now – through metaphor for It is too brilliant to be relativized within the confines of human construction that can limit its Totality and Absoluteness. Yet, It has to be made known, whether that be shown through a Fire on a mountain that guided, or through clay sparrows that began to Fly, or a Tree that shines with that Light and other colors – the Tree that marks the utmost boundary of the furthest heaven.
And since a very long time I have been trying to unlock this metaphor of the analogy of His Light being a niche, within it, a lamp, which is enclosed in a glass, that shines as a brilliant star, and the star is lit from a tree, that of an olive, that neither is of the East or the West and its oil glows forth of itself, yet no fire has touched it. Switch on all the lights of your mind and imagination, and this Ayah to this very day eludes explanation although the metaphor is aesthetically absolute – light upon light five times over. And yet many of us look at many stars many times over and see nothing, more or less.
I remember once – when I wanted to be an art student – I went to meet my friend who had then taken a compulsory Islamic Studies course. We sat outside the library and we were grappling with the whole deal behind the As-Samiiy‘ and Al-Basiir Names. And we both concluded – through different metaphors of course – that He is the Hearer of All and the Seer of All and we merely hear and see.
“You see, you and I are sitting here outside this library, and we can hear each other. We can hear people around us. We can see each other. And see all this stuff around us. But only He can Hear and See what’s happening inside the library, what happening in the opposite building, what’s happening outside the university’s gate…” Basically – what’s happening everywhere. And suddenly we felt small. Very, very small.
I am finally beginning to understand why He Calls Himself Al-Latiif and Al-Khabiir, and why the two Attributes, together. Arabic is a multivalent language. Rahm technically might mean womb, but it means Mercy too – and of course an etymological link is easily traceable. But Latiif is a fairly elusive word. Some things are also lost in translation – translation being the poorest of metaphors – but one might fumble to say that Latiif means to have the decorum of being able to differentiate between the most delicate of subtleties. So if Al-Basiir means to See all, Latiif means to See through-and-through all, thoroughly. Khabiir is a bit easily comprehensible; it means to be acquainted. So Al-Khabiir would take Latiif to its utmost conclusion – to be Well-Acquainted. So here we are talking of the One, the only One, being Able to See through all things so comprehensively and completely that He is All-Aware of anything and everything, all the time. I am reminded of the phrase that one of my Literature Professors used to use almost enchantingly, “[one] speaks monosemantically of the polysemous.” Metaphors and the meanings are too narrow in their reach. They have to be, for transcendence cannot be tabulated. And these are just two Names that we are talking about that are usually understood as Attributes. An attribute is merely a quality; it’s only a part of the Whole – an element of entirety.
La tudrikuhu alabsaru wahuwa yudriku alabsara wahuwa al-Latiiful-Khabiir.
No Vision can grasp Him, but He grasps all Vision.
I think the ultimate unlocking of all points, then, would be beyond the furthest limit – beyond the ceilings and floors, heavens and horizons, lights and trees – and then we will finally be able to See all what we have never seen before, up close and personal, with no metaphors in between.
And cameras would finally be so unnecessary.
Now enter passages. Or passageways. And you see these signs and symbols and so many arrows pointing in delirious directions. But you need to look up. And you see the ceiling stretching out above you. Like the Vault above. And there are seven of them. And then there is a Beyond. The ceiling is shrinking. How further can it go, you imagine. You see it merging, converging and then you see it – see what – what you can imagine: the point where the divergent directions become one into a single point. And then you see it sharply maybe. And that we are moving, moving a bit too fast, in the same direction, towards that one Point. In architecture and art, this mathematically technical concept is called the Vanishing Point. One of my momentary art teachers said that it’s “…the point where our vision ends, and His Vision Begins.” That stayed with me, and intrigued me quite a bit. And then I saw it, again. How small everything is. No matter how many CCTVs are watching, some man is still shot. Some woman is still mugged. Some kid is still run over. And it happens in a second. But guess what. Something Happened Once-Upon-a-Time, in less than a trillionth of a second, and galaxies, far, far away came rumbling through Passageways. And the Be became a Light so White and Powerful that many black-holes just stood gaping blindly in the dark. And the rest, as they say, is history. We all came stumbling through, sweeping through our rabbit-holes and are still somehow trying to reach that Light at the End of the Tunnel. We are moving there. Just like the ceiling that is trailing towards its own point, just like the skies (all 7 of them) are vaulting Up towards the same point. The sun will blink out. We all need to shed our loads as there is too much to transmit all the time to so many. We phase out. We burn out. We all will blink out, eventually.
And so the camera relies on the mechanism of the eye. Art is either plagiarism or revolution. I can’t agree with Gaugin more. It is that desperate attempt to capture, preserve, and to somehow make things somewhat understandable. Or meaningful. Or even possible. Plagiarism and revolution both need some form of inspiration to become either. An artist is always frustrated with this need and hope to be understood. So an expression gives embodiment to what an artist wants to articulate. But then how much (or how little?) can a camera capture? How far can the Panopticon reach? Bentham and Zeiss have excellent minds, and sharper visions, but every eye has its blunt, blind-spot. There is something going on the other side, outside the frame, behind the scenes, below the earth, inside the sea. The very limitation of our vision – and you don’t need to be a Gaugin, Bentham or Zeiss to see that – is enough to make us understand that something goes on even inside a pixel and an atom. Every ceiling, every floor is stretching out, away, into a speck of distance. And we are in between. The lens, the flash, the lights and action – it’s an enter-and-exit situation, down to the final curtain-call, to fadeout.
Now let’s see a bit more closely. First it was all dark. But then there was Light. And now there is Light upon Light. And all we see are metaphors around us – that approximating and asymptotically frustrating attempt to intend or extend our very limits to see, and so believe. One metaphor would suffice to illuminate the point. Take a look at stars for instance. The true and so, only functions of stars are that they guide the traveler (so they act as compass points), they adorn and they fortify the heavens (so even God has an aesthetic and a pragmatic sense that go together). So against the black-hole sky, the only heavenly evidence is that of those bright stars as they look down upon us (if we see them as specks, they don’t see us any differently). In a sense, it’s only the stars that pointedly remind us of our smallness, even pettiness before the heavens. But the function of the stars is not merely heavenly. They’re always Switched on – through night and day – for those who might lose their way – which we all do. Look up, and you just might find an answer there. Plus, they look pretty. And plus they act as missiles to keep the bad guys away. And later on, the fascination with stars developed into astronomy that furthered into astrology – all attempts to ‘figure out’ things, approximating calculations and decisions and revisions to map stuff out. We desperately try to see through these metaphors so that we can have some meaning. But we don’t see enough, or see closely. And perhaps we are not supposed to see so much. Astronomers and astrologers for sure are always talking tentatively. They are always speaking in signs. For over-explanation and over-simplification, “cheapens the mystery of the cosmos.” I don’t know if Delores Macuccho is a real author. But the woman is true about this. How much or far words can stretch themselves to make meaning possible (if not entirely meaningful) shows that words, like artists, need to explain, capture and preserve. And so metaphors can only attempt to make understanding possible. But without metaphors explanation would be impossible. You need a star to make you see that heavenly bodies exist. You need darkness to know that Light must exist. And the limitation of the metaphor to approximate the truth in itself is an explanation that there is a Bigger Truth Out there. Sitaron se aagey jahaan aur bhi hain… which could (possibly) mean, beyond the stars, Other Worlds exist. Or, beyond the stars Where Others also exist. Take your pick – the metaphor only suggests. Iqbal is long-gone to decode the verse.
The metaphor, then, is merely extending itself to intend a meaning. There is a limit to what we can see. And so, there must be a Truth in some Other World out there that is so vast that it has to elude meaning, for meaning would place a limit on it, make it human, and in doing so, would only be able to or would tend to offer a tentative approximation. There has to be a Light that is unlike everything that we have or can possibly see. That light has to be something, or Someone that can only be explained – for now – through metaphor for It is too brilliant to be relativized within the confines of human construction that can limit its Totality and Absoluteness. Yet, It has to be made known, whether that be shown through a Fire on a mountain that guided, or through clay sparrows that began to Fly, or a Tree that shines with that Light and other colors – the Tree that marks the utmost boundary of the furthest heaven.
And since a very long time I have been trying to unlock this metaphor of the analogy of His Light being a niche, within it, a lamp, which is enclosed in a glass, that shines as a brilliant star, and the star is lit from a tree, that of an olive, that neither is of the East or the West and its oil glows forth of itself, yet no fire has touched it. Switch on all the lights of your mind and imagination, and this Ayah to this very day eludes explanation although the metaphor is aesthetically absolute – light upon light five times over. And yet many of us look at many stars many times over and see nothing, more or less.
I remember once – when I wanted to be an art student – I went to meet my friend who had then taken a compulsory Islamic Studies course. We sat outside the library and we were grappling with the whole deal behind the As-Samiiy‘ and Al-Basiir Names. And we both concluded – through different metaphors of course – that He is the Hearer of All and the Seer of All and we merely hear and see.
“You see, you and I are sitting here outside this library, and we can hear each other. We can hear people around us. We can see each other. And see all this stuff around us. But only He can Hear and See what’s happening inside the library, what happening in the opposite building, what’s happening outside the university’s gate…” Basically – what’s happening everywhere. And suddenly we felt small. Very, very small.
I am finally beginning to understand why He Calls Himself Al-Latiif and Al-Khabiir, and why the two Attributes, together. Arabic is a multivalent language. Rahm technically might mean womb, but it means Mercy too – and of course an etymological link is easily traceable. But Latiif is a fairly elusive word. Some things are also lost in translation – translation being the poorest of metaphors – but one might fumble to say that Latiif means to have the decorum of being able to differentiate between the most delicate of subtleties. So if Al-Basiir means to See all, Latiif means to See through-and-through all, thoroughly. Khabiir is a bit easily comprehensible; it means to be acquainted. So Al-Khabiir would take Latiif to its utmost conclusion – to be Well-Acquainted. So here we are talking of the One, the only One, being Able to See through all things so comprehensively and completely that He is All-Aware of anything and everything, all the time. I am reminded of the phrase that one of my Literature Professors used to use almost enchantingly, “[one] speaks monosemantically of the polysemous.” Metaphors and the meanings are too narrow in their reach. They have to be, for transcendence cannot be tabulated. And these are just two Names that we are talking about that are usually understood as Attributes. An attribute is merely a quality; it’s only a part of the Whole – an element of entirety.
La tudrikuhu alabsaru wahuwa yudriku alabsara wahuwa al-Latiiful-Khabiir.
No Vision can grasp Him, but He grasps all Vision.
I think the ultimate unlocking of all points, then, would be beyond the furthest limit – beyond the ceilings and floors, heavens and horizons, lights and trees – and then we will finally be able to See all what we have never seen before, up close and personal, with no metaphors in between.
And cameras would finally be so unnecessary.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Entering as a Trickle, Exiting as a Flood
Nouman Ali Khan from Al-Maghrib hammers the nail on its head by highlighting the contradictions within us: its the malaise we all are perpetuating and in some ways, condoning - and the blame's on us. Please do watch - the guy's making perfect sense:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LumwYGp729w&feature=player_embedded#t=1302t
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LumwYGp729w&feature=player_embedded#t=1302t
Friday, October 16, 2009
Tafir of Surah Fatiha - Saad Omar (GhazaliProject)
Based on the Works of Shaykh Muhammad Al-Ghazali* and Mufti Muhammad Shafi
*not to be confused with Shaykh Abu Hamed al-Ghazali
Surah Fatiha
The surah “represents the very heart and soul of the Quran”
It is considered one of the most illustrious surahs.
Speaks of the essential covenant between humans and the Lord, upon which man’s mission on earth is founded.
It is an “earnest prayer to God, heart felt plea” for guidance and to gain the pleasure of God.
Comprises of 7 verses: First three: Praise of Allah. Last three: contain a prayer or request from Allah, which Allah (SWT) in His Infinite Mercy has Taught him/her to recite
“In the Name of God, The Merciful the Compassionate”
These are some of the most exalted names of Allah and when recited they provide protection.
“Praise be to Allah, Lord of all Creation”
Hadith: When we recite this verse, Allah says “My servant has paid his homage to Me.”
Whenever you praise anything in this world, you are essentially praising Allah (SWT) as He is the Creator of all these things.
Praising Allah also emphasizes Tawheed (oneness of Allah), as He is the Creator, and a creation is not worthy of the ultimate praise.
This Ayat entails 3 main ideas:
1. Praise and glorification of the grandeur and magnificence of Allah
2. Praise to God the Creator and provider for His favors and grace He provides to us
3. Gratitude and thanks to God the Creator and provider for His Favors and Grace He provides to us
“Lord of all Creation (all the world).”
Rabb: Lexically signifies “the One Who Nurtures”: “nurturing implies developing a thing by gradual progression, for the creation’s own good, until it reaches perfection.”
Alameen: “the worlds” include all possible forms of existence: the sky, the earth, plants, minerals, and, of course, men).”
Assertion that Allah is Master of all, from the greatest and humblest of creation
Every animal, plant, human, star, planet, anything in the earth, skies, anything that exists, existed, or will exist, “is subordinate to God, subservient to God, bound to His Power, totally dependant on His Grace, Blessings and Compassion.”
“The Merciful, the Compassionate”
Hadith: Allah Replies: “My servant has praised Me.”
These attributes of Allah may follow the previous ayat because it shows that Allah does not nurture humanity because of some external compulsion or inner need, but due to His attribute of Mercy.
“Human beings and all creation live by the grace and mercy of Allah.”
Were it not for His Mercy, our lives would be eroded by our sins and faults.
“Master of the Day of Judgment”
Hadith: Allah replies: “My servant has proclaimed My Greatness.”
“Malik”: comes from the root Milki: “which signifies possessing a thing in such a manner that one has the right and power to dispose of it as one likes.”
“So the Day of Requital or Judgment implies that Allah has total mastery on that day, mastery over what is not stated, so in the commentary of al-Kashshaf, this ayat refers to Mastery over everything.”
This day is a reality that is for a large part ignored in our materialistic society.
It has become a subject for satire and ridicule. In areas of education, law, national and international politics, it has been deliberately omitted or swept aside.
However the occurrence of this day, on which all creation will stand before the Lord, is a fact that must be reckoned with.
“This world is a field of action not reward.” That day, will be the day of ultimate justice.
“You alone we worship and You alone we turn for help”
Hadith: Allah says: “This verse is common to Me and My servant. He shall be given what he has prayed for.”
The first three ayats make it clear that humans are completely dependant on Allah (SWT), so the next logical progression for the human to worship Allah alone, so this ayat represent the logical progression of exclusive worship to Allah.
Furthermore, it is logical that once on realizes that Allah is the only one who can suffice your needs, that you turn to Him for help.
Worship does not only include fasting or prayer however. Imam Ghazali in his book, Arba’in, includes:
1. Prayers
2. Prescribe Alms Giving
3. Fasting
4. Hajj
5. Reciting the Quran
6. Remembrance of Allah in all possible situations
7. Earning one’s livelihood in accordance with the Islamic Law.
8. Fulfilling one’s obligations towards one’s companions and neighbors.
9. Persuading people to act righteously and dissuading them from doing what’s forbidden.
10. To follow the Sunnah of the Prophet (S).
“Guide us to the straight path.” “The path of those on who You have Your Grace.” “Not of those who have incurred Your Wrath, nor of those who have gone astray (verses 5-7)”
Hadith: Allah replies: “All this is there for My Servant. He shall be given what he prays for.”
The straight line is the shortest distance between two points and in this way, the straight path is the only sure and direct way to Allah.
These last 3 verses consist of a direct prayer to Allah.
What about someone who is guided? A scholar? Why do they need to keep asking for guidance? To understand this, we must understand the deeper meaning of guidance.
1. First degree of guidance: This meaning of guidance is general and extends to plants, animals, and even minerals. “Nothing exists that does not celebrate His praise, but you do not understand their (mode of) praising. (17:44).
o So there is a level of guidance is common to all creation. “He gave everything its distinctive form and then guided it.” (20:50)
2. Second level of guidance is reserved for the rational creation, human and jinns. Prophets bring this creation to man through revealed books. Some accept and become believers and some reject and become disbelievers.
3. This last degree is very specific to the true believers and it is endless, this is the “tawfiq” or the special blessings and guidance that Allah give to whom He Wills.
o “As for those who follow the straight path, Allah will increase their guidance.” (47:17)
The straight path avoids twists and turns and it is the one that is avoiding the extremes of excess and deficiency
“Those of those on who you have bestowed Your Grace”
Allah explains this group in the following verse, “Those whom Allah has blessed, namely, the prophets, the Sidiqin (the constantly true), the Shuhada, and the righteous.” (4:69)
1. Prophets: closest to Allah
2. Sidiqin: those who have attained spiritual perfection, namely the saints, or People of Allah.
3. Shuhada: the martyrs who sacrifice their life for the faith or bare witness to the truth.
4. Saliheen: those who follow the Islamic law (shariah) in all aspects of life, the pious people.
“Not those who have incurred your Wrath, nor of those who have gone astray.”
The people who have gained Allah’s Anger refer to people who are given guidance and willfully disobey it. This may include blind following of desires over divine command or being deficient in completing what is commanded. In history, the Jews had this characteristic in relation to revelation.
“Those who have gone astray” refers to the those who go beyond the commandments of Allah through ignorance. This category includes people who commit excess or exaggeration in following Allah (SWT). An example of this excessive zeal can be found in the Christians who deified the prophet.
*not to be confused with Shaykh Abu Hamed al-Ghazali
Surah Fatiha
The surah “represents the very heart and soul of the Quran”
It is considered one of the most illustrious surahs.
Speaks of the essential covenant between humans and the Lord, upon which man’s mission on earth is founded.
It is an “earnest prayer to God, heart felt plea” for guidance and to gain the pleasure of God.
Comprises of 7 verses: First three: Praise of Allah. Last three: contain a prayer or request from Allah, which Allah (SWT) in His Infinite Mercy has Taught him/her to recite
“In the Name of God, The Merciful the Compassionate”
These are some of the most exalted names of Allah and when recited they provide protection.
“Praise be to Allah, Lord of all Creation”
Hadith: When we recite this verse, Allah says “My servant has paid his homage to Me.”
Whenever you praise anything in this world, you are essentially praising Allah (SWT) as He is the Creator of all these things.
Praising Allah also emphasizes Tawheed (oneness of Allah), as He is the Creator, and a creation is not worthy of the ultimate praise.
This Ayat entails 3 main ideas:
1. Praise and glorification of the grandeur and magnificence of Allah
2. Praise to God the Creator and provider for His favors and grace He provides to us
3. Gratitude and thanks to God the Creator and provider for His Favors and Grace He provides to us
“Lord of all Creation (all the world).”
Rabb: Lexically signifies “the One Who Nurtures”: “nurturing implies developing a thing by gradual progression, for the creation’s own good, until it reaches perfection.”
Alameen: “the worlds” include all possible forms of existence: the sky, the earth, plants, minerals, and, of course, men).”
Assertion that Allah is Master of all, from the greatest and humblest of creation
Every animal, plant, human, star, planet, anything in the earth, skies, anything that exists, existed, or will exist, “is subordinate to God, subservient to God, bound to His Power, totally dependant on His Grace, Blessings and Compassion.”
“The Merciful, the Compassionate”
Hadith: Allah Replies: “My servant has praised Me.”
These attributes of Allah may follow the previous ayat because it shows that Allah does not nurture humanity because of some external compulsion or inner need, but due to His attribute of Mercy.
“Human beings and all creation live by the grace and mercy of Allah.”
Were it not for His Mercy, our lives would be eroded by our sins and faults.
“Master of the Day of Judgment”
Hadith: Allah replies: “My servant has proclaimed My Greatness.”
“Malik”: comes from the root Milki: “which signifies possessing a thing in such a manner that one has the right and power to dispose of it as one likes.”
“So the Day of Requital or Judgment implies that Allah has total mastery on that day, mastery over what is not stated, so in the commentary of al-Kashshaf, this ayat refers to Mastery over everything.”
This day is a reality that is for a large part ignored in our materialistic society.
It has become a subject for satire and ridicule. In areas of education, law, national and international politics, it has been deliberately omitted or swept aside.
However the occurrence of this day, on which all creation will stand before the Lord, is a fact that must be reckoned with.
“This world is a field of action not reward.” That day, will be the day of ultimate justice.
“You alone we worship and You alone we turn for help”
Hadith: Allah says: “This verse is common to Me and My servant. He shall be given what he has prayed for.”
The first three ayats make it clear that humans are completely dependant on Allah (SWT), so the next logical progression for the human to worship Allah alone, so this ayat represent the logical progression of exclusive worship to Allah.
Furthermore, it is logical that once on realizes that Allah is the only one who can suffice your needs, that you turn to Him for help.
Worship does not only include fasting or prayer however. Imam Ghazali in his book, Arba’in, includes:
1. Prayers
2. Prescribe Alms Giving
3. Fasting
4. Hajj
5. Reciting the Quran
6. Remembrance of Allah in all possible situations
7. Earning one’s livelihood in accordance with the Islamic Law.
8. Fulfilling one’s obligations towards one’s companions and neighbors.
9. Persuading people to act righteously and dissuading them from doing what’s forbidden.
10. To follow the Sunnah of the Prophet (S).
“Guide us to the straight path.” “The path of those on who You have Your Grace.” “Not of those who have incurred Your Wrath, nor of those who have gone astray (verses 5-7)”
Hadith: Allah replies: “All this is there for My Servant. He shall be given what he prays for.”
The straight line is the shortest distance between two points and in this way, the straight path is the only sure and direct way to Allah.
These last 3 verses consist of a direct prayer to Allah.
What about someone who is guided? A scholar? Why do they need to keep asking for guidance? To understand this, we must understand the deeper meaning of guidance.
1. First degree of guidance: This meaning of guidance is general and extends to plants, animals, and even minerals. “Nothing exists that does not celebrate His praise, but you do not understand their (mode of) praising. (17:44).
o So there is a level of guidance is common to all creation. “He gave everything its distinctive form and then guided it.” (20:50)
2. Second level of guidance is reserved for the rational creation, human and jinns. Prophets bring this creation to man through revealed books. Some accept and become believers and some reject and become disbelievers.
3. This last degree is very specific to the true believers and it is endless, this is the “tawfiq” or the special blessings and guidance that Allah give to whom He Wills.
o “As for those who follow the straight path, Allah will increase their guidance.” (47:17)
The straight path avoids twists and turns and it is the one that is avoiding the extremes of excess and deficiency
“Those of those on who you have bestowed Your Grace”
Allah explains this group in the following verse, “Those whom Allah has blessed, namely, the prophets, the Sidiqin (the constantly true), the Shuhada, and the righteous.” (4:69)
1. Prophets: closest to Allah
2. Sidiqin: those who have attained spiritual perfection, namely the saints, or People of Allah.
3. Shuhada: the martyrs who sacrifice their life for the faith or bare witness to the truth.
4. Saliheen: those who follow the Islamic law (shariah) in all aspects of life, the pious people.
“Not those who have incurred your Wrath, nor of those who have gone astray.”
The people who have gained Allah’s Anger refer to people who are given guidance and willfully disobey it. This may include blind following of desires over divine command or being deficient in completing what is commanded. In history, the Jews had this characteristic in relation to revelation.
“Those who have gone astray” refers to the those who go beyond the commandments of Allah through ignorance. This category includes people who commit excess or exaggeration in following Allah (SWT). An example of this excessive zeal can be found in the Christians who deified the prophet.
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