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INTRODUCTION
Inimitability
The inimitability of the Quran can be likened to the following analogy:
Humanity see a glass cup on an ordinary wooden table. What I do is remove the base of the cup with the rest of it and say
'Please put the cup back together'. Humanity then completes the challenge with success, after all its only a question of
putting the base back with the cups body.
Then, I remove the base of the cup and after a short while reconnect it to the body to create a car. Humanity now faces another challenge. A challenge which they fail to complete.
Going back to the Quran, we can say that the grammar, words and letters are the components of Quranic Arabic. What humanity cannot do is get the components of the language and put them together to even to imitate the style of the Quran, three lines of it! Just like the example of the cup.
Another way of understanding that its author is Allah (swt) the following can be explained.
We all understand that the way we understand that Allah exists is fundamentally due to creation itself. We understand, that because we cannot create matter and the objects we perceive, we come to the conclusion that there is a creator. This creator we call Allah.
Creation is a challenge in itself. Scientist and the whole of humanity have access or can control certain basic
components of creation such as carbon atoms and molecules. But, they cannot put them together to create life or matter. You can then argue that it is possible to make a chemical substance by combining molecules together. But can we create the atom? Can we put these things together to create life such as plants and humans!? No. These processes happen due to laws that Allah has created. So lets think about this
- can we put the basic molecules and atoms together to create a plant instantaneously? Or even a living human body? The answer is obviously negative.
This analogy is similar to the Quran. We have the basic components of its language such as the words and letters but yet it is impossible to put them together to imitate the style of the Quran. This surely points out who the author is. Alhamdoulilah.
Style
Rhymed poetry is a speech with metre and rhyme, which means every line of it ends upon a definite letter, which is called the 'rhyme'. This rhymed poetry is again divided into metres or what is called as al-Bihar, literally meaning 'The Seas'. This is so called because of the way the poetry moves according to the rhythmic patterns.
There are sixteen al-Bihar; at-Tawîl, al-Bassit, al-Wafir, al-Kamil, ar-Rajs, al-Khafif, al-Hazaj, al-Muttakarib, al-Munsarih, al-Muktatab, al-Muktadarak, al-Madid, al-Mujtath, al-Ramel, al-Khabab and as-Saria'. Each one rhymes differently. (For metres of Arabic poetry please see please see Lyall's book Translations of Ancient Arabian Poetry, Chiefly Pre-Islamic.)
This is seen, for example, in a line of poetry by Ibn el-Abbas al-Asadi:
Akfara men ahlihi Obayd
(Obeid has lost all his kingsmen)
Falaysa yobdi wala yo'eed
(He can no longer initiate or settle matters)
Prose is that of non-metrical speech, meaning it does not have a rhythmic pattern. Arabic prose can be further divided in to two categories, Saj and Mursal. Saj is rhymed prose consisting with part of the word ending on the same rhyme throughout, or of sentences rhymed in pairs. Mursal is straight prose. In straight prose, the speech goes on and is not divided, but is continued straight through without any divisions, either of rhyme or of anything else. Prose is employed in sermons and prayers and in speeches intended to encourage or frighten the masses.
The Quranic Style
The Quran is unlike any of these styles. The Quranic style cannot fit in to any of the above categories, therefore it is not like the prose of Saj or Mursal and it is not any of the al-Bihar. This suggests that Quranic style is unique. This can be seen by the following example:
Wad Duha wal laili izzaa sajja
(By the morning hours and by the night most still)
Ma waddaka Rabbuka wa maa qala
(Your Lord has neither forsaken you nor hates you)
Wa lal akhiraatu khairul laka minal oola
(And indeed the hereafter is better for you than the present)
Wa la sawfa ya teeka Rabbuka fa tarda...
(And verily your Lord will give you so that you shall be well
pleased..)
(93:1-5)
There are no divisions or rhyme in this straight forward phrase, but it is redolent with rhythm. If we examine this verse with reference to the above styles we see that it is not Saj due to having no rhymed divisions. It is not Mursal because it has internal rhythm and it is not any of the al-Bihar because it is not a poem, that is, it is not metrical speech with rhyme.
So the challenge is to produce three lines of Arabic that does not fall in to any of the above mentioned styles, is grammatically correct and is delivering a message i.e. it makes sense. It is essential to point out that even the best Arab poets and linguists have failed to do so
The Qur'an is not verse, but it is rhythmic. The rhythm of some verses resemble the regularity of
saj, and both are rhymed, while some verses have a similarity to Rajaz in its vigour and rapidity. But it was recognised by Quraysh critics to belong to neither one nor the other category.
It is interesting to know that all the pre-Islam and post-Islamic poetry collected by Louis Cheikho falls in the above sixteen metres or
al-Bihar. Indeed the pagans of Mecca repeated accuse Prophet Muhammad (saw) for being a forger, a soothsayer etc. The Arabs who were at the pinnacle of their poetry and prose during the time of revelation of the
Qur'an could not even produce the smallest surah of its like. The Qur'an's form did not fit into any of the above mentioned categories. It was this that made the
Qur'an inimitable, and left the pagan Arabs at a loss as to how they might combat it as Alqama
confirmed when he addressed their leaders, the Quraysh:
Oh Quraish, a new calamity has befallen you. Mohammed was a young man the most liked among you, most truthful in speech, and most trustworthy, until, when you saw grey hairs on his temple, and he brought you his message, you said that he was a sorcerer, but he is not, for we seen such people and their spitting and their knots; you said, a diviner, but we have seen such people and their behaviour, and we have heard their rhymes; you said a soothsayer, but he is not a soothsayer, for we have heard their rhymes; and you said a poet, but he is not a poet, for we have heard all kinds of poetry; you said he was possessed, but he is not for we have seen the possessed, and he shows no signs of their gasping and whispering and delirium. Oh men of Quraish, look to your affairs, for by Allah a serious thing has befallen you.
Summary
In summary, we understand that the Quran is from Allah due to the intellectual challenge it has expressed. This challenge is beyond human endeavour. Who else other than Allah is the author?
There are so many other rational proofs that prove that the Quran is from Allah, but this document will deal with the miracle of its language.
This inimitability will be explained in the following pages.
SURPASSING EXCELLENCE IN EVERY PASSAGE
It is very difficult to try to describe the style of the Qur'an which defies imitation. It is perhaps sufficient to say that it combines every good quality in literary style, even though such qualities may move in opposite directions. This needs a full explanation, which is easily felt but more difficult to express. We will however, try to give a partial explanation as best as we can. But before we do that, we will outline some aspects of human speech which are easily understood by everyone who attempts literary expression. This will enable us to contrast the shortcomings of human style with the perfection of the
Qur'an.
Concise but Fully Expressive
These two are widely different aims. Whoever tries to combine both of them together finds himself like one caught between two women: he cannot maintain justice between them, without finding himself constantly leaning towards one or the other. When he tries to economise with words, using only what is adequate, he must inevitably lose part of the meaning. He may try to express his meaning in general terms. If he is making an argument, he may say,
''Believe this, or do not believe that.'' In description, he would confine himself to saying,
''This is beautiful, and that is ugly.'' If he is making a report, he would say,
''This has taken place, and that did not.'' When he makes a request, he says,
''Do this, and do not do that.'' Alternatively, he may add some details, but will continue to be very cautious of saying more than he needs. Thus, he leaves out whatever he can, dispensing with preliminaries and omitting those tools which raise expectation, adding emphasis, generating interest and similarly essential elements of fine speech. Thus, what he comes up with is akin to a garment that is too short or too tight, or like a skeleton that has not been fleshed up. Sometimes the omission of a particle will considerably reduce the beauty of a sentence, leaving it too dry or too dull. It is often the case that an attempt to shorten a piece of writing will leave it too vague to understand.
On the other hand, a person who tries to express his meaning fully, doing justice to its finer details, as far as he understands or feels it, must allow him sufficient space. He will not find economy of words serving his purpose. He feels the need to explain his thoughts fully. When he tries this, he will inevitably use an expansive style. He may take his time before he arrives at the conclusion he wants to make. You may begin to lose interest before you complete the reading.
Most men and women of letters, of old and modern times, often err on the side of saying more than they need in order to express their meaning. They rarely choose to be concise. Indeed, most of them find it tempting to display their literary ability. Some resort to using unfamiliar words and constructions, forcing the reader to read a sentence more than once in order to gather its meaning. Thus, the extra words or expressions used make the meaning less clear. Others use too many words, thus making their style verbose, longwinded or effusive. Or they make their reader stumble in his attempt to grasp the meaning because they use too many synonyms or analogous words. They think that by so doing, they make their meaning succinct, while in fact they make it too thin. Perhaps the best among these is one whose writings could be reduced by half without losing anything of what he wishes to express.
Hard as they try, people of fine literary talent rarely, if ever, achieve their target. The maximum they can achieve is a relative perfection,
'inasmuch as they can fathom or reflect a moment of inspiration.' To express a certain idea fully and perfectly, without falling short in one or more aspects of it, or adding something that does not really belong to it, allowing no room for suggesting anything new, is something no one who has attempted fine literary expression will ever claim for himself, let alone for others. If he were to review what he has written, time after time, he would inevitably find something to modify, or an omission to be redressed, or some thought it to be brought forward or taken backward, in order to make it flow better. If he were to review it 70 times, as the pre-Islamic Arabic poet, Zuhayr ibn Abi Sulma, used to review his poems which he called,
'the annuals', he would have something to change every time. The more refined he is, the less satisfied with his product he will be. He will always feel that he is short of the ideal to which he aspires. He is like the one described in a
Qur'anic analogy, 'stretching out his hand to the water in the hope that it will reach his mouth, but it will never reach
it.' (13:14)
This is what he may feel about his own product. But what will his critics and competitors say? We should remember here that in all this he is striving to achieve one aim. What will be the result if he tries to achieve the other end at the same time, putting his wealth of meaning in the most concise forms? How can he achieve both ends when he is a prisoner of his human nature that cannot get nearer to one end of the road unless it goes further away from the other?
If we find that someone has managed to achieve both ends in one or two sentences, we need to consider carefully what he says thereafter. For it is inevitable that he will soon tire himself out. His powerful style will give way, and his bright style will soon lose its shine. He will achieve that great height only occasionally, just like we find a piece of precious metal in a great heap of rock. When you consider what such a writer has written you will say to different parts of it,
''This is good; and this is superior; but that is the finest piece.''
Let us ask any literary critic of recognized high standing: ''Have you ever come across a poem or piece of literary prose with clear meaning, concise expression and fine construction
throughout?'' We will find them all unanimous that even the finest of poets achieve real excellence in only a few lines within a few poems. Beyond that, they may have what is average, or even lower of standard. They would say the same about orators and writers. Indeed, such shortcomings are clearer in their case.
If you wish to see how these two qualities of precision and concise construction, go hand in hand perfect measure, throughout a piece of work, you only need to look anywhere you wish in the
Qur'an. You are bound to find literary expression that fits the purpose perfectly, without leaning towards expansion or inadequacy. Every idea and very point is given in clear and full picture. It is clear in the sense that it has no trace of anything alien to it. It is also full, omitting nothing of its essential elements or complementary requisites. Yet at the same time, it is expressed in the finest and most concise style. Every word, particle or letter has a purpose to serve. The place of every word in every sentence in a verse are carefully selected so as to produce the finest meaning, flowing from one idea to the next.
Put your hand over any page in the Qur'an you choose, and count the number of words you have covered. Then select an equal number of the most expressive words in human speech other than those in the
Qur'an and compare the meaning in both cases. [Although the Prophet's own style is the most concise and eloquent human speech, it is far less concise and rich in meaning than the
Qur'an.] consider then how many words you may delete or replace in this second passage without loss of meaning, and consider if you can doing the same with the
Qur'an. The fact is, as stated by Ibn 'Atiyah, a famous Arab literary critic, that if we were to screen the whole Arabic language in search of a word to replace one word of the
Qur'an expressing the meaning equally, let alone more fully, we will find none. It is aptly described by God Himself:
''This is a scripture with verses which have been set out with perfection and then expounded in detail, bestowed on you by Him who is Wise,
All-Aware.'' (11:1)
Let us now examine this verse very carefully. The whole idea we have discussed is combined here in two phrases, each expressed in a single Arabic word in the original text:
''set out with perfection'', and ''expounded''. This is a most apt description of the
Qur'anic style. It is perfected by the One who is 'Wise' and who leaves no defect in what He produces. It is also expounded by the same One who is
'All-Aware', and who knows every detail of every living thing.
Addressing the General Public or Select Groups
These are two widely differing aims. If you were to speak to highly intelligent people in a simple style, explaining every little and simple detail, as you need to do when addressing people of average intelligence, you will offend them. On the other hand, if you were to address the general public in a concise manner, making only a hint here and a brief reference there, as you should do when you speak to educated and intelligent people, you will heavily tax their mental faculties. Hence, if you want your meaning to be equally understood by both groups, you have to address them separately, using different styles and approaches. The matter is the same as when addressing children and adults. No single style is good for both.
To address highly educated intelligent people in the top echelon of society with the same words addressed to people who are uneducated, of limited intelligence and occupying a lower position on the social ladder, and to fully satisfy them all is something beyond human ability. Indeed, it is not found anywhere other than in the
Qur'an. It is the same book found most satisfying by those who appreciate literary refinements. At the same time, ordinary people find it easy to grasp, free of ambiguity or confusion. It gives pleasure to both groups, placing no burden on either.
''Indeed, We have made this Qur'an easy to bear in mind: who, then, is willing to take it to
heart?'' (54:17)
Rational Conviction and Emotional Satisfaction
Two forces are always active within a human being: the intellectual and the emotional. They have different roles and directions. The first aims to know the truth, and to identify what is good and beneficial so as to adopt it. The other records its feelings of pain and pleasure. A perfect style is that which satisfies both needs at the same time, giving you intellectual satisfaction and emotional pleasure, like a bird flying through with two wings.
Do we find such perfection in human style? We have seen the writings of Scientists and philosophers, and works of poets and fine prose and fiction writers, but we find it all tilting to one side or the other. The former present to us their thoughts in a direct manner, addressing our intellect with the facts, without in any way trying to appeal to our emotions. Thus, when they present scientific facts, they do not care whether what they present is fact or fancy, real or imaginary. They sound serious when they are jesting, inviting tears without being enchanted.
''Poets are followed only by those who are lost in grievous error. Do you not see that they roam confusedly through all the valleys [of words and thoughts], and that they say what they do not do? Except for those who believe and do good deeds, and remember God often, and defend themselves after having been
wronged.'' (26: 224-227)
Everyone is a kind of philosopher when he thinks, and a kind of a poet when he feels. Ask, if you will, psychologists and psychiatrists if they have ever seen anyone in whom their intellectual power is of psychological forces. If these powers are somehow of comparable strength among a small number of people, do they influence a person in the same way at the same time? They will all answer you that this does not happen at all. These forces will only act one at a time. Whenever any one of them is dominant, the others dwindle into the background, having particularly no influence on what is taking place. When a person is deeply involved in his intellectual thoughts, he does not give much attention to his feelings and emotions. A person enjoying some pleasurable experience, or enduring pain, will not have much time for intellectual thought. The fact is that human beings do not pursue these two aims simultaneously. Otherwise, they would be going forward and backward at the same time, and this is not possible. It is just like God says:
''Never has God endowed any man with two hearts in one body.'' (33:4) How can we, then, expect human being to address both pursuits with the same vigour when they do not co-exist within him with the same strength at any one time? Indeed, whatever we say reflects our mood at the time of speaking.
In fact this is standard that gives us an idea of the force a writer or speaking. If he tries to establish a theoretical premise or a practical method, we conclude that his writings reflect an intellectual mood. If, on the other hand, he tries to excite feelings, playing on emotions of pleasure and grief, happiness and sadness, we determine that his work reflects an emotional mood. If he moves from one aspect to the other, giving each one his total concentration, we realize that logical thinking is alternating with emotional feeling within him. For the same style to maintain both aspects at the same time, like one branch of a tree carries leaves, flowers and fruits all together, or like the spirit permeates the body, or water goes through a green plant, is unknown in human speech. Indeed, it is incompatible with human nature.
Who, then, can come up with a discourse that presents hard facts in an argument which is well accepted by the most intellectual of philosophers, and combines it with emotional pleasure that satisfies carefree poets? This is something that can only be achieved by God, the Lord of all worlds. He is the One who is never preoccupied with something to the exclusion of another. He is the One able to address the intellect and the emotion at the same time, and to mix beauty with the truth in a way that neither trespasses over the other. This is what we all find in His Glorious Book, whatever part we read. Read, if you will, surah 12, which is devoted entirely to the story of Joseph, or surah 28, which devotes more than half its verses to the story of Moses. In both, you find that relating at leisure the details of the story does not lead to any missing on the moral of the event or a blurring of the lessons to be drawn from the story.
Even in the midst of providing intellectual proof, or outlining legal provisions, the emotional aspect is not overlooked. We have even in these instances what arouses our interest, heightens our feelings, or even a warning, or a statement of amazement or reproach, etc. all these are provided at the beginning or the end of its verses, or within them. Hence, the
Qur'an is aptly described as the Book that: ''makes the skins of those who stand in awe of their Lord shiver; but in the end, their skins and hearts soften with the remembrance of
God.'' (39:23) ''This is surely a decisive word; it is no frivolity.'' (86:13-14)
Let us now take two examples in support of what we have just said. The first is one that mixes logical proof with emotional address. Verse 22 of Surah 21 may be given in translation as follows:
''Had there been in heaven or on earth any deities other than God, Lord of the Throne, above what they
describe.'' Consider how these few words provide logical proof and excite amazement at the enormity of what is alleged. In fact, the evidence given brings together undoubted and fully accepted premises with a vivid description of he ruin that results from an inevitable conflict. Thus, the evidence is given in a poetic style. Do we ever find anything like this in a book of theoretical wisdom?
The second example is a text outlining legal provisions:
''Believers, just retribution is ordained for you in cases of killing: the free for the free, and the slave for the slave, and the woman for the woman. And if something [of his guilt] is remitted to a guilty person by his brother, this [remission] shall be adhered to in fairness, and restitution to his fellow-man shall be made in goodly manner. This is an alleviation from your Lord, and an act of His grace. And for him who, none the less, willfully transgresses the bounds of what is right, there is grievous suffering in
store.'' (2:178) Consider how the verse opens with emphasis on obedience reflected in making the address to
'believers'. The element of grievance is then reduced between the families of the killer and the victim by using such words as,
'his brother', 'in fairness', and 'in goodly manner'. Then there is a reminder of
God's favours in the statement, 'This is an alleviation from your Lord, and act of His
grace,'' which is then followed by a warning at the end of the verse. Now consider the subject matter of this verse. It is speaking about duties in case of killing. The same applies to all verses outlining legal provisions, including those speaking of strained marital relationships, divorce and other methods of separation. In what book of law do we find such a spirit? In what language do we find such a mixture? If anyone tries to make such a combination, exerting every effort and straining himself as much as he can, all that he will come up with is a host of contradictions making his writing look like a garment that has been patched up after extensive tears.
General and Clear
This is a unique combination that we do not find anywhere other than in the
Qur'an. The thing is that when people make their thoughts well defined, they do not leave room for any interpretation. If they make it general, they make their style ambiguous, or even confusing, or they leave it totally unclear. It is practically impossible to combine these two aims of clarity and generality.
When you read a passage of the Qur'an, however, you find it transparently clear, with precision in expressing the intended meaning, and without any alien word or concept to confuse the issue in question. It requires no hard thinking or repetition of the statement; its meaning is readily apparent. You feel as though you are not listening to words and statements, but looking at images and well established facts. You tend to think that you have gathered its meaning in full. Yet if you were to read it again at a later time, you will find that you see in it a new meaning that differs from the one you had gathered the first time. The same may happen time and again, so that the same sentence, or the same word, may have several correct, or potentially correct, interpretations. It is comparable to a diamond, each side of which gives a different ray. If you were to take a total view of it, you have an amazing spectrum, comprising all the colours of a rainbow. You feel unable to decide what to take and what to leave out. If you were to let another person look at it, he may see in it more than you do.
We will give here a small example. Take the Qur'anic statement:
''God grants sustenance without reckoning, to whom He
wills.'' (2:212) This is certainly very clear to all minds. Yet at the same time, there is a great deal of flexibility. If you were to say that it means God gives sustenance to His servants without accounting to anyone about what He does, and without anyone asking Him why has He given some people in abundance and given others limited means, you are correct. If you say that it means that when He gives, He does not reckon up what He has given for fear that resources may be exhausted, you are correct. If you take it to mean that He gives people their sustenance from where they cannot reckon, you are correct. Similarly, you are correct to say that He gives His servants their sustenance without putting them first to account for their deeds. If you finally say that it means that He gives sustenance in abundance, without measure ad subject to no calculation, you are correct.
In the first meaning, the statement provides a rule for the granting of God's provisions. The system does not operate on the basis of what the recipient deserves according to his knowledge or deeds. Provisions are determined by
God's will, as He wishes to test His servants. This provides consolation to the poor among the believers and puts the rich and arrogant face to face with the facts so that they do not go too far in their conceit. The second meaning alerts us to the limitless resources God has as His command, and that He gives in abundance as He wills. The third meaning provides a hint to the believers of what God will give them of victories so as to replace their hard times with comfort and their poverty with affluence. All this will come about from where they do not reckon. The last two meanings give a promise to the good believers either to be admitted to heaven without having to face the reckoning, or to multiply their reward manifold. Whoever looks at how scholars interpret the
Qur'anic verses will be amazed as what they come up with.
Thus, we see a book laid open at all times. Everyone takes from it what they are able to take, as fits their different talents and purposes. We see indeed an endless ocean stretching beyond imagination. It has accommodated all schools of thought, different as their methodologies and rules of deduction are. Is has also catered for scientific theories, ancient and modern, different as their methods and means are. Easy to understand and analyze as it is, retains its vigour and power, remaining free of change and contradiction. Each party finds it a basis for its argument, claiming its support. Yet, in its sublimity, it remains above them all, looking from on high to see them fighting over it as though he is telling them:
''Say, everyone acts according to his own disposition. Your Lord is fully aware who is best
guided.'' (17:84)
One Example of the Qur'anic Style
We have so far explained some of the characteristics that make the Qur'anic style unique, not only in the Arabic language, but in human speech generally. We have shown how it combines characteristics that are not found in any other style. We gave examples in each case. Now we will give another example, drawing the
reader's attention particularly to the precision of expression and powerful construction in the
Qur'anic style. It uses both qualities in order to provide rich meaning in the most concise form. This particular quality is the one most in need of explanation.
But we will not take, for our example, any of the verses that have been admiringly discussed by literary figures over the centuries, such as the verse which says:
''There is life for you, men of understanding, in this code of just
retribution.'' (2:179) Nor shall we take the highly descriptive, yet particularly concise verse which describes the end of the great floods at the time of Noah:
''And the word was spoken: You earth, swallow up your waters; and you sky, cease [your rain]! And the waters sank into the earth, and the will of God was done, and the ark came to rest on Mount Judi. And the word was spoken:
''Away with these evildoing folk!'''' (11:44). We will not take these, nor indeed any similar example. We will take, instead, a passage speaking of something that people hardly ever associate with literary excellence. This will give us a fair idea of what we mean when we speak about the inimitability of the
Qur'anic style.
Speaking about the arguments the Jews in Madinah advanced in their rejection of the message of Islam, God says:
''When they are told: 'Believe in what God has revealed,' they say: 'We believe in what has been revealed to
us.' But they deny the truth of everything beyond that, although it be the truth corroborating that which they have. Say:
'Why, then, did you of old kill the prophets sent by God, if you are true
believers?' Moses came to you with clear signs but, in his absence, you worshipped the calf and thus became transgressors. We accepted your solemn pledge and raised Mount Sinai above you [and said],
'Take with firmness and strength, what We have given you, and hearken you to
it.' They said: 'We hear but we disobey.' They were made to drink calf into their very hearts because of their disbelief. Say:
'Vile is that which your faith enjoins upon you, if you are indeed
believers.''' (2:91-93)
These verses form only a passage in one chapter of the story of the Children of Israel. The main elements that stand out in this short passage may be summed up as follows:
1.Advice to the Jews, calling on them to accept the Qur'an as God's revelation;
2.Their reply to this advice, which has dual purpose;
3.A refutation of this reply in both its purposes, using several arguments in this refutation.
If a lawyer of exceptionally ability was given the task of defending the Qur'an on this particularly issue, and he was able to organize his thoughts around these points, I swear he would not express them as fully as the
Qur'an even though he may use several times the number of words used in these verses. Even then he will not be able to include the finer elements we find in the
Qur'anic statement.
The advice to the Jews says to them: Believe in the Qur'an like you believed in the Torah. Since your belief in the latter is based on the fact that God revealed it to Moses, the
Qur'an preached by Muhammad is also revealed by God. Hence, you should believe in the latter as you believed in the former.
This is gist of the advice, but all this is expressed in the Qur'an in a most economic statement:
''Believe in what God has revealed.'' It does not mention in the Qur'an by name, but by a clear reference to it. The gives the advantage of giving the argument for this advice in the very words it is made. Moreover, it does not mention by name the Prophet to whom the
Qur'an is revealed, although mentioning it would have provided a fuller description of the
Qur'an in which they are required to believe. This is because mentioning it makes no special addition to the point being expressed, and because it is counterproductive in as far as the effect of the advice is concerned. From a literary point of view, mentioning the name of the Prophet Muhammad in this advice does not add anything special to their duty to believe in the
Qur'an. Hence, the advice is based on the common grounds on which the argument for such beliefs relies. On the other hand, mentioning the name of Muhammad may alert the grudges of those who are hostile to him. Thus, it may undermine the purpose of bringing peace and unity which the advice aims to achieve.
Moreover, the omission of the Prophet's name is more in line with Islam, which is a religion aiming to unite people after they have been divided by their divergent beliefs. It calls on people to believe in all of
God's revelations to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob and the tribes, and also in what was revealed to Moses and Jesus and other prophets. We do not make any distinction between
God's revelations, just as we do not make any distinction between His Messengers.
The Jews' reply confirms that they believed in the Torah not only because it was revealed by God, but because He revealed it to them. As the
Qur'an was not similarly to them, they would have nothing to do with it. They continue to believe only in their Torah. Let each nation have its own faith. All this is summed up in the
Qur'anic statement quoting their reply: 'We believe in what has been revealed to
us.'' This is the first purpose in their reply. The statement is further reduced by deleting the name of the One who sends revelations, i.e. God, because He is mentioned in the previous statement:
''Believe in what God has revealed.''
It is clear that restricting themselves to believing in only what is revealed to them means that they deny what is revealed to anyone else. This is the second purpose, but they try to keep it implicit in order not to admit their disbelief. But the
Qur'an highlights this, although it does not make it a logical conclusion of their belief. It does not add to their statement what it implies. It simply states it by way of explaining what they actually said:
''But they deny the truth of everything beyond that.'' Thus, we see an example of the strictest honesty in reporting.
Now reflect for a moment on the use of the phrase, 'everything beyond that.' This may be understood in two ways: the first includes everything in addition to the
Qur'an, and the second is more restricted. The fact is they did not only deny the
Qur'an revealed to Muhammad, but they also denied the Gospel revealed to Jesus. Both were revealed
'beyond', or after, the Torah. They did not deny what was revealed before the Torah, such as
Abraham's scrolls. Their crime is, thus, defined so precisely by using this term, most truthful and most fair as it is.
Decisive Refutation of Counter Arguments
Having stated the case, the passage now refutes their arguments, both explicit and implicit. It begins by leaving aside their claim of believing in their revealed book, as though it is proven fact, so that it takes it as a basis for the requirements to believe in other revealed books. It asks: How can it be that their belief in the book revealed to them a reason for disbelieving in what is similarly true, or indeed in what is
'the truth'? Does the new revelation run to contrary to the truth so that believing in one book necessitates disbelieving in the other? The argument is then taken a step further showing that different things may be equally true but have no bearing, one on the other, as they are unrelated. But this new revelation is a witness for earlier ones, confirming their truth. How can it, then, be rejected by those who believe in such earlier revelations?
The line of argument is thus taken to its logical conclusion. It points out that if the distortion that had found its way into those earlier books obliterated all aspects of the truth in them, they might have some justification in rejecting the
Qur'an. It might have been possible for them to argue that what remains of their books does not have an identical import with that of the
Qur'an. Hence, believing in them does not necessarily require believing in it. Indeed they would have been similarly justified in their rejection if their remaining portion of the truth in their book was not available to them. But the
Qur'an confirmed and corroborated the truth that remained with them and was being studied by them. How, then, can they justify their rejection? The whole of this point is expressed in the
Qur'anic text by the phrase, 'although it be the truth corroborating that which they
have.'
We note that the logical usage here should have included different words, such as,
'corroborating that which was revealed to them', but the Qur'an gives a different heading to their book, with special significance and suitability to the present context. Had the
Qur'anic statement said, for example, 'corroborating that which remains with them
now', the expression would have lost the element of commitment binding on them to believe in the
Qur'an. Here, we are discussing a change that would be decisive in the refutation of all their argument. As it is, the
Qur'anic expression is made in a very short phrase, but it nevertheless leaves them no way out. If we were to compare this with military action, we may say that it is one step taken swiftly, without any noise, to place the opposition under complete siege.
Having treated this implied aspect which the Qur'an presents as an objection, the passage undertakes to refute their main, declared objection given in their boastful statement that they believe in only what is revealed to them. It shows that it is a false argument. Indeed, their rejection of the truth is a chronic illness they have had for centuries. Their rejection of what is revealed to Muhammad is merely one link in the long chain of their disbelief, even in what was revealed to them. Evidence in plenty is given to confirm this: their ignorance in God, ill-treatment of His Messengers, and disobedience of His orders:
''Say: why, then, did you of old kill the prophets sent by God, if you are true
believers?''
1. Reflect first how the switch of subject is well prepared. The audience understands from the rejection by the Jews of what corroborates their book that they, in fact, deny their own book as well. Can a person who rejects an argument in your favour be your best advocate? But this point is deduced from what they say, committing them to what their boasting entails. It is not taken directly from their attitude. This is what is left to what now follows. We see, then, how the phrase,
'although it be the truth corroborating that which they have', serves as a close of one aspect and an opening of another. It is like the last step in the first flight of stairs being the first in the next flight. This makes the whole passage very closely knit together. In fact, the literary expression is made to suit the feelings of the listener most perfectly, as and when these feelings develop. When the listener, having heard this word, is felt to look for a conclusion, conclusion is provided in all clarity.
2. In fact the Qur'an does not mention the real perpetrators of those crimes. It does not say to them,
'why did your forefathers kill God's Messengers, or why did they worship the calf, or why did they say: We hear and we
disobey.' That would be a false argument in the first place similar to the argument of the wolf which justified his intended eating of the lamb by saying that the
lamb's father disturbed the stream a year earlier causing him to drink muddy water. Had this been used as an argument, they would be justified in saying in reply:
''Our forefathers are long gone and no-one would be held responsible for the misdeeds of
another.'' Had that argument been used and supported by saying that the present generation takes the same stand as the old ones, it would still be a hollow argument. Hence, the whole argument has been summed up making the indictment applicable to them directly show that they are in the same position as their forefathers. The crime is equally theirs. Whichever of them you accuse, you will easily prove your case. They simply follow in their
forefathers' footsteps, pursuing the same objectives.
3. This concept is farther enhanced by the usage of the present tense in describing the first crime of murdering
prophets' as though it took place at the same time as the Qur'an was revealed. It is as though these same people are caught red-handed.
4. Such usage of the present tense, and mentioning God's prophets collectively, could have generated a feeling of grief in Prophet
Muhammad's heart, and might have tempted his enemies into thinking that their schemes to kill him might yet succeed. Hence, all this is forestalled by use of the phrase
'of old', to make them despair of any success in their present schemes. It gives the Prophet reassurance, as though it is a full promise that they will not harm him. The phrase also serves as a reminder that all this took place in the past, but the use of the present tense is intentional.
5. It is to be noted that as the passage lists their other offenses, it uses the past tense, having prepared our minds for this change with the addition of the phrase,
'of old', so that the historical perspective is made clear.
6. The next offence mentioned is far worse than the first, because it means the association of partners with God. But the
Qur'anic reference to it is so refined that it deletes the second object. It does not say to them,
'You have made the calf a deity to worship.' The deletion adds a sense of strong abhorrence to their deed.
7. There are several instances where details are left out. This is because these details are not particularly essential. The
Qur'an is stated clearly to corroborate what they have, but we have no information to tell us how far the corroboration extends, and whether it relates only to the fundamentals of faith or to its details as well, and which details if any. This is because kings speak only in measured speech. Why should the one who calls on people to believe be concerned with how far two religions agree on something or other? This is left to jurists. The passage states that they killed prophets, without specifying the names of the prophets they killed. This is left to historians. It states that Moses brought them clear proofs, but does not specify what these were. Nor does it mention the nature of the solemn pledges he accepted from them. None of these details is of importance at this specific juncture. Had they been mentioned, it would be like the person who has just beaten his servant answering a question on the reason for so doing. He says that the servant had beaten a boy and he gives the name of the boy, his address, date of birth, the clothes he was wearing the time, etc. this would furnish us with too many unnecessary details.
8. If we were to discuss all the finer touches this passage includes, we would be exceeding the limits of giving an example. Hence, we will only draw attention to a finer element unknown in ordinary speech. When a person is so keen to make a case, defending something or trying to persuade his audience, his speech is bound to reflect his emotions. We almost experience his feelings of pleasure when he succeeds and displease when he fails to achieve his purpose. If he is a keen believer in what he is preaching, he would take peoples disinterest in what he says too much to heart. This is especially so with all prophets. Here, in the Qur'an we do not fail to see something else: these are the words of a power what is too strong to be influenced by any such purpose.
There is an unmistakable dignity in stating clear arguments and giving precise descriptions. In arguing the case of the
Qur'an, its simply describes it as 'the truth'. The word is certainly full of meaning, but what human being is satisfied with using it in describing a fact which he wants people to believe in? Similarly, the passage records a most horrid crime perpetrated by the Jews when they considered the calf a deity to be worshipped. It then describes their hardened hearts as they refused to obey
God's commands, despite the clear proof that they had been shown. But when it describes these it simply denounces the first as
'transgression', and the second as 'vile'. True, these terms adequately describe the offences when they are properly understood. But what human being would confine himself to such words when his status is held in question? What we find here is a dignified disputant that does not allow himself to be drawn into a degrading argument. He is neither in need of gratitude nor affected by denial. These are the words of no human being.
BROADEST MEANING, MINIMUM WORDING
We have said that the Qur'an always invests the minimum possible wording to generate the broadest possible meaning. This is a common feature which clearly noticeable throughout the
Qur'an, in places which people describe as either calling for brevity or those that merit expansive elaboration. Hence, we describe the
Qur'an a being concise throughout, because in both situations it does not add anything beyond what is absolutely necessary. Nor is it possible to express its meaning in either situation with a wording of shorter or equal length. Every single word it uses provides a key to necessary and intrinsic meaning. Every letter fulfils a purpose.
We should discard altogether any talk about words being 'added unnecessarily' or particles being
'superfluous'. We should also discard any overuse of the word 'emphasis' which means that whenever a word is thought to be
'surplus', it is said to be 'added for emphasis'. Some people do that without thinking whether the place where it occurs requires or permits emphasis. To give such a verdict on the
Qur'an, describing it as using 'surplus' words, is to betray ignorance of the fine and highly sensitive measures which constitutes an essential element of the
Qur'anic style.
When you have discarded all such claims, you should endeavor to fathom its literary merits in the light of what we have said earlier. If you do not readily understand the purpose of using a particular word or particle, do not jump to any conclusion like those who make claims of the type we have mentioned. You should say only what is wise and fair, such as:
''God knows best the secrets of His own statements, and we only know what He has taught
us.'' Do not be complacent and do not give up trying to discover its merits, saying that eminent literary figures have not been able to fathom it so nor can you. It is often the case that a person of lesser standing may be able to hit on something that has remained unnoticed by a more qualified specialist. The example of
'Abdullah ibn 'Umar is well known. The Prophet once said to a group of his Companions who included such illustrious people as Abu Bakr and
'Umar: ''There is a tree which does not discard its leaves. It is like a Muslim. Which tree is
that?'' They mentioned several types of tree, but none was the right answer.
'Abdullah was the youngest among them and he felt it to be the date palm tree, but he kept quiet out of respect for his seniors. The Prophet then advised them:
''It is the date palm tree.''
It is then, your duty to work hard and to pray to God to facilitate you with the acquisition of better knowledge. It may be that He will give you a breakthrough which will uncover what has remained unknown to others. It is He who
''brings the believers out of darkness into the light.'' (2:257)
Let us take the example of the Qur'anic statement describing God Himself in these words:
''Naught is as His likeness.'' (42:11) This is the nearest translation we can give to this sentence in order to capture its nuances. Most translators of the
Qur'an render it as: ''There is nothing like Him,'' [but this is far from adequate.]
Most scholars agree that the particle 'as' is 'tautological' or 'redundant' here. Indeed many say that it is necessarily so. They feel that making it fully functional leads to a logical impossibility, as it would then negate comparison with God likeness, not with God Himself. Thus, it would lead to admitting that there is, or there may be a
'peer' or an 'equal' to God. Logicians say that a negation affirms the opposite, while linguists say that negation may apply to what is qualified and what qualifies it as well. If you say, for example,
'Ali has no son to help him', you may mean that he has no sons at all, or that he has a son but that son does not help him. Similarly, a statement like,
'Hasan is not a brother of 'Ali', may mean either that Hasan has no brothers at all, or that he has a brother other than
'Ali.
Some scholars say that 'as' may be considered as non-redundant if we say that it does not lead to such an impossibility in any linguistic sense. They say that negation of the likeness of a peer logically implies a negation of peers. They further say that if God has a peer, then that peer has, by necessity, an equal who is the true God himself. Each one of any two peers is equal to his peer. Thus, the negation of an equal to a peer is impossible unless we negate parity in the first place. This is the intended meaning.
This interpretation, at best, provides a way out. It does nothing more than say that
'as' in the Qur'anic statement, 'Naught is as His likeness', causes no harm or confusion. It makes no attempt to show how it is useful and, indeed, necessary. When we consider this interpretation carefully we find that the meaning of the statement is the same whether it is used or not. Indeed, it only adds an element of pedantry and complication into the sentence. It is akin to someone who says:
''This is the son of Mr X's maternal aunt's sister'', instead of saying: ''This is Mr
X''. In effect this interpretation makes 'as' redundant or superfluous, although it claims that it has an emphasizing role. Indeed, there is no emphasis needed here. Besides, to emphasise a negation with a particle indicating likeness is essentially impossible.
Implicit Meanings in Abundance
If we reflect a little we find that this particle is highly significant, forming an essential part of the intended meaning. To omit it is to remove an aspect of the meaning which cannot be otherwise compensated for in the sentence. We will explain this in two ways, one more subtle than the other, hoping to bring out the meaning of this unusual statement in full relief.
The first, which is the easier to understand, is that if the Qur'anic verse were to simply say:
''Nothing is like Him,'' then that would be a negation of an equal likeness, or a being who is exactly like Him. This is the meaning that comes to mind when we speak of likeness in general. If the statement was limited to this, then doubts might be raised that there could be a status which is not exactly the same as
God's, but a degree below it. It may also be said that such a status belongs to angels and prophets, or to stars and natural forces, or to the jinn, idols and clergy. This would give such beings a similarity to God in His ability or knowledge, or share in His creation or rule. But the use of
'as' in the sentence puts doubts, as it removes the whole universe from any possibility of being like God, and of being similar to any shade of comparability with Him. It is as if the verse is saying: There is nothing which has any quality that brings it in any similarity with God, let alone it being similar to Him in reality. This is a case of highlighting what is inferior in order to stress what is superior. A similar case is the Divine order to prohibiting the use of any words of offence when speaking to
one's parents: ''Should one or both of them attain old age in your care, never say,
'Ugh' to them or chide them, but always speak gently and kindly to them.'' (17:23). This is an express order prohibiting the slightest offence, which means that a greater offence is even more strictly prohibited.
The second, which is more subtle, is that the immediate purpose of the verse, which is the negation of any comparability with God, is not at all that the statement aims to convey. It would have been sufficient to state that negation by saying,
'Naught is like unto God,' or 'There is nothing like God'. But while the verse aims to emphasise this fact, it wants at the same time to draw our attentions to the logical argument that proves it.
If we wish to describe a certain person as having a good character and say, 'he is neither a liar nor
miserly', we are simply making statements without adding anything to prove it. But if we say,
'such a person is neither a liar nor miserly', we are not referring to a person similar to him and free of such unbecoming behavior. Indeed, our statement in this case adds qualities in his character. It denotes that a person with his fine qualities and benevolent character cannot be either a liar or miserly. His good character will simply not admit such defects.
It is in the same way the Qur'anic verse is phrased, so as to say that a being of such fine qualities as those of God can have none similar to him. Indeed, the universe cannot have two of His type. Hence, the statement employ two words, each denoting complete similarity, so as to use one of them as an essential part of the claim, while the other serves as an undeniable proof of the same claim. The negation of the similarity denoted by the particle,
'as', or 'ka' in the Arabic text, signifies the complete uniqueness of God, while use of the word
'likeness', or 'mithl' in Arabic, in reference to God himself, alerts us to the indicated proof. This is, indeed, a special type of proof denoting the Oneness of the Creator in a way that no scholar of Divinity has, to our knowledge, ever approached. All the proofs they provide of
God's Oneness seek to disprove the possibility of being more than one deity by negating the practical results that form the outcome of such multiplicity. This is pointed out by the verse which says:
''Had there been in heaven or on earth any deities other than God, both [these realms] would surely have fallen into
ruin.'' (21:22)
The argument here, which is the basis of all the points advanced by scholars of Divinity, is that multiplicity of deities, each of whom having the qualities of the Divine Being, leads either to the non-existence of creatures, which means that they fall into ruin at the time of their existence, or leads to conflict between them that results in their falling into ruin after they are brought into existence. If we were to assume the presence of two gods and that both will for something to be created, they would not be able to do so because a single effect cannot be the result of two causes. To say that it is produced by the power of one of them while both have the same powers and forming the same will is to give one of them precedence over the other without any clear basis for it. On the other hand, if one of them wills to create something and the other wills to create its opposite, neither can be created because that would mean that two opposites exist concurrently at the same time and place. To allow one to be produced without the other is to demonstrate that one of them has precedence over the other. If one of these two gods wills to create some creatures different from those created by the other, then each deity will control his own sector of creation. This would mean the existence of two universes with a separate system for each. Inevitably, they will be in conflict until both are destroyed. All these possibilities are clearly disproved by the fact that the universe continues to exist following the same system. Every part of it functions harmoniously with the rest, like the organs of a single body function to serve the same purpose. This unity of operation is proof the Oneness of the Operator who orchestrates them all, [limitless is He in His Glory].
All their arguments, then, are of the type pointed out by the verse quoted above, stating:
''Had there been in heaven and on earth any deities other than God, both [these realms] would surely have fallen into
ruin.'' The statement in Surah 42, ''Naught is as His likeness'', looks at a meaning beyond this. It negates the very possibility of there being more than one God, regardless of any effects that such multiplicity produces. The verse is, thus, saying that the nature of Divinity is such that it differs from anything that accepts multiplicity or similarity with others. To admit such multiplicity or similarity is to make its perfection incomplete. But true divinity presupposes absolute perfection negating the very concept of multiplicity or similarity.
The deeper you go in emphasizing Divinity, the greater the superiority you imply, which means that the Divine Being is the origin of everything:
''It is He who is the Originator of the heavens and the earth.'' (42:11). You also emphasise that He is in full control of everything:
''To Him belongs the keys of the heavens and the earth.'' (42:12). If you were to assume that these qualities apply to two beings, you contradict yourself most clearly. You simple make each one of the two beings superior and inferior, originator and originated supreme and follower at the same time. Alternatively, you restrict their absolute perfection by making each one of them neither superior nor supreme in relation to the other. How, then, will either of them be God when
''to God belongs the essence of all that is most sublime in the heavens and the
earth''? (30:27)
We see now what a great contribution the particle 'as' adds to the meaning of the statement,
''Naught is as His likeness''. It is useful to remember this example in order to appreciate the accuracy of the measure applied in the composition of the
Qur'an.
A Difficult Approach Made Easy
But the secret of concise expression in the Qur'an is not limited to avoiding anything that is not essential to the meaning, or selecting the most expressive vocabulary which fits the purpose most clearly. The
Qur'an employs an even harder and far more admirable method of keeping its wording to the absolute minimum.
At times we find the Qur'an, having omitted unnecessarily additions and words that are not essential to the meaning, also leaves out some of the essential words without which the meaning is not normally properly conveyed. The deletion may affect many words and sentences that should either follow one another or come separately in the same passage. It then invests the vocabulary that remains in conveying the whole meaning clearly, accurately and in fine style. In fact, in appears that the wording makes such a full expression of the meaning that we may think that the wording is more than adequate for the meaning intended.
If you look for the secret in all this, you will find that it places the meaning of the deleted words and sentences in a word here and a particle there. It then fashions its style with dexterity so as to make the outcome most fitting for the purpose. Furthermore, it brings out its finer elements in sharp relief so as to make the style most coherent and expressive. It breathes life into it making it smooth, easy, bright and enlightening. As we read, we do not feel what deletions and omissions have taken place, nor do we appreciate how the meaning is adequately and fully expressed unless we examine it very carefully.
There is no doubt that the Arabs used to resort to some omission in their speech, considering it to be a literary virtue, provided that there was sufficient indication pointing to what was deleted, even though it may have been essential to the sentence. When an Arab is asked,
'Where is your brother?' he may say, 'At home'. And if he is asked, 'Who is at
home', he would say, 'My brother'. If he were to answer either question by saying,
'My brother is at home', his answer would be felt to be unnecessarily verbose. In this aspect, like in all aspects of literary expression, the
Qur'an attains a height too sublime for human talent, unattainable even in our wildest dreams.
Let us take this example: ''If God were to hasten for human beings the ill in the same manner as they would hasten the good, their end would indeed come forthwith! But we leave those who do not believe that they are destined to meet Us in their overweighing arrogance, blindly stumbling to and
fro.'' (10:11). [This rendering leaves out all that translators of the Qur'an add in parentheses to capture the meaning]
This verse speaks of those who reject the concept of resurrection and whom the prophet informed of his message telling them that he was a warner to them against an impending and painful suffering. They ridiculed him and said:
''God, if this is indeed the truth from You, them rain down upon us stones from the skies, or inflict [some other] grievous suffering on
us.'' (8:32). God, however, has not done what they suggested, but instead has delayed their punishment to the time He has appointed. They felt secure in the life of peace they were enjoying and forgot that time brings all sorts of misfortune. They overlooked the fact that God may inflict His punishment on them at any time. Essentially, this led them to hasten such evil, just like people are eager to receive what is of benefit to them immediately. They started to say: When will it be? What stops it from coming if it is true?
The Qur'an wants us to reply to this by saying that if it was God's law to respond to people when they hasten what is evil in the same way as He responds to them when they hasten to do good, He would have hastened it to them. But it is His unchangeable law that He gives respite to the transgressors and defers reckoning their actions, good or bad, to the time He has appointed. The law will operate in the case of those people so as to give them respite until their appointed time. This is the nature of the reply as it may be expressed in human language. Now let us look at what happens to it when it is stated in the
Qur'an.
1. Taken in its ordinary form, the argument has three elements: two serve as introductory and the third as a conclusion. The
Qur'an states the first and the third, while the second is left out. Thus, it is only implied.
2. The first introduction in its idle state has four ingredients: God's hastening good and evil, and
people's request for both to be hastened. But in the verse we see only one hastening from God and one demand for haste from people.
3. The apparent contrast is in the similarity of one type of haste and another or one type of request for haste and another. The verse is phrased rather strangely so as to draw the similarity between one element from the first set [i.e. haste] and an element from the second set [i.e. hastening request].
But after all this deletion and modification do we find the text to be incomplete or twisted or not readily understood? Or do we find the whole import of the verse to be clear to all and sundry, like a full moon on a clear night? It is useful to dig into the secrets of fine style and ask how the meaning is so clear despite all this economy of expression.
In comment on all three points outlined above we say firstly that the verse has only deleted the implied introductory element after it has raised two banners on its two sides to indicate its presence and transmit it to us clearly. To its right, it has placed the negative conditional,
'if God were...' at the beginning of the first introduction. This implies that God does not hasten such matters. To its left, it has placed the Arabic particle, fa, which is rendered in the translation as
'but'. This implies a detail indicating a normal state of affairs. The meaning implied here is that
'it is His practice that He leaves the people to whom the verse refers until their appointed time
arrives.'
But the Arabic particle, 'fa' on its own does not specifically denote what is intended, because it if frequently used as a conjunction. Thus, a reader may read it as though it serves as a conjunction here before he realizes that it is not so. To avoid this, the
Qur'an does not rely on this particle alone, but adds two supporting forces in the form of changing tense from past to present, and changing the referent from the third person to the first. This causes a verbal break between it and the preceding sentence. This break echoes a similar break in meaning, inviting a complete pause before it. This ensures that no confusion or ambiguity is felt by the reader or the listener. Moreover, this change of tense and person alerts the listener and makes the warning much more effective, coming as it does from God, the Almighty Himself.
As for the second point we note that when the omission applied to two of the four ingredients, it is made to apply to both aspects, taking out one ingredient from each and leaving the other. The parallel in this process indicates the presence of what has been deleted.
The third point identifies a fine aspect of the meaning indicating the reason for giving respite and why God does not hasten punishment. The verse portrays this hastening as though the person requesting it is so keen to have what he requests to be hastened to be hastened because it will satisfy a burning desire, particularly if he is seeking what is certain to benefit him. Thus, the verse implies if God were to hasten what they are demanding, He would be in the same position as those precipitating matters, as He would be provoked into it. Far be it from God, to be so.
Yet there are more artistic touches in the text of the verse. One of these is that usually the particular conditional conjunction used here is peculiar to Arabic and should normally be followed by a verb in the past tense. But the purpose here is not to negate a past occurrence. It is to explain that what the unbelievers hasten in contrast to the laws of nature God has set in operation in human life. Such laws are valid for all time, without change. To put this meaning in normal style, longer language would have been needed, such as:
'Had it been the normal law God has set for human life that He should hasten,
etc'. But all this is summed up in one word through the use of the present tense, which implies repetition and continuity. The conditional conjunction is used to indicate that what follows it refers to a past event. Thus, the time of the occurrence and its continuous nature are gently pushed to the force.
The second touch is seen in the phraseology of the conditional sentence. Normally, the second part of a conditional should tie up with its first part. This would have meant that the sentence should be phrased like this:
''If God were to hasten for human beings the ill...He would have hastened it,
etc,'' But this is discarded in preference for something far more telling and effective. The verse explains that had God wanted to hasten an evil outcome to people, He would have hastened for that particular community a special type of hard suffering which would make their end occur forthwith.
Yet we see another touch in the way the verse is ended. The logical conclusion of the verse should probably have been something like,
'But We leave them', or 'But We leave these people'. The verse, however, runs as follows:
''If God were to hasten for human beings the ill in the same manner as they would hasten the good, their end would indeed come forthwith! But we leave those who do not believe that they are destined to meet Us in their overweighing arrogance, blindly stumbling to and
fro.'' In this way, it accomplishes an important dual purpose. First, it makes clear that their hastening of evil is due to the fact that they do not believe in resurrection. It also shows that granting respite is the general rule which applies to them and others like them.
The verse has other touches, but we will leave these for now. We only say that we may find one type of these dexterous manipulations in the style of literary figure, but what human being displays in his or her style all these aspects, or a similar set in a passage of the same length, or even in one twice as long?
Let us take another example tackling the same thought: ''Say: Have you ever considered if His punishment were to befall you by night or by day? What could there be in such prospect that people lost in sin should wish to hasten? It is, then, that you will believe in it [only] after it has come to pass? Is it now [you believe in it], after having called for it speedy
advent?'' (10:50-51)
If we were to paraphrase these verses, we may say that what God is saying goes as follows:
''Tell me what will your situation be, should God's punishment befall you suddenly, at night or during the day. What will you do then? You have one of two choices: either you persist with what you are doing now, continuing to deny
God's message and hasten the result that may take place, or you accept the faith. Which of these would you choose? Will you still ask for the punishment to be hastened then as you hasten it now? Certainly not, because you are sinners, and a sinner will never look forward to the punishment that is bound to overwhelm him once it is decided. Besides, what type of punishment are you trying to speed up? You should know that it differs in type and severity. Or is it that you deny it today, then when it comes about in due course you will believe in it? Let me tell you that such belief will not be of any benefit to you, since you have delayed and procrastinated so long that the time for it has gone. You will be reproached and told: is it now that you want to believe while you were always denying that punishment and challenging us to hasten
it.''
This is the meaning conveyed in these two verses. We only need to look at them carefully to see how many sentences have been left as implied at the beginning, middle and end. But for everything that is deleted, the verses include a clue to point to it or a mark showing it. In the first verse, we have two interrogative sentences indicating that a comprehensive question is made up of the two, asking: What will you do, and which course will you follow? The interrogative about the type of punishment being hastened indicates an earlier and preliminary question about the very idea of hastening it. The reference to those
'lost in sin' implies that it is impossible for what this part of the verse refers to, i.e. the hastening of punishment, to take place, because they will be its recipients. There are many other words or phrases deleted from the text, but clearly understood. This could only happen in the
Qur'an with its unique style. Indeed, no one has ever attempted to combine such brevity of style and word economy with such clarity of meaning without soon finding himself in deep water, unable to proceed after the first hurdle. Indeed, to achieve such an aim requires far more effort than anyone could put in. this should tell us much about the real challenge of the
Qur'an.
THE UNITY OF EACH SURAH
We have highlighted the richness of the meaning of the Qur'anic style, despite its unparalleled word economy. But we have to add to that another aspect which gives its wealth of meaning its best adornment, bringing out its beauty in full splendour. This aspect is the perfect coherence of all its constituent element and the firm bonding of all its parts which make of it a single unit that cannot be split up.
We all know that when a single subject is treated in poor style, its unity of meaning is loosened. Thus, it becomes disjointed and lacking in coherence, just like an image reflected in a mirror becomes broken when the mirror has an uneven surface. After all, words form a mirror reflecting the meaning they convey. Hence, bringing out the natural unity of meaning requires proper literary artistic coherence. This is achieved through matching the elements used in literary expression so that they can be consolidated into a complete whole.
This by no means easy, as may be imagined by those who are unaware of what literary refinement means. In fact, it is hard task requiring skill and dexterity, as well as a fine sense that enables a writer to determine the best position for each part: which should be placed at the beginning which forms a conclusion and which occupies the centre position. The writer is also required to choose the best methods to put these parts together, and when to use the gradual progression, straight conjunction, or other methods of joining. But all this comes after the parts themselves have been carefully selected; making sure that each one of them is closely related to the overall meaning and free of alien or unnecessary aspects. He should also make sure that both ends and the middle part of each part is of equal relevance to the overall purpose of the
writer's piece of work, and that the theme being treated is equally relevant to all these parts. It is a case similar to a circle where every point is of equal distance from the centre.
All this applies to a single theme with a natural link between all its constituent parts. How is, then, when the discussion tackles several themes that vary in essence and substance and have naturally unrelated parts? How much skill and talent, or indeed what magical touches, are required to bring about a measure of coherence between their diverse natures and separate courses, so that when they are brought together in discussion they do not appear to be like an assortment that puts together a pen, a pair of shoes, a saw and a bucket of water? What sort of talent will bring them together in one line of discussion, enabling their smaller details to unite in an all-embracing and closely-knit whole?
The difficulty of this goal has practically been placed it beyond the reach of the best of literary talents. Great literary figures may attain different degrees of excellence when they take up one issue at a time. But when they seek to tackle different themes in the same piece of work, they fall into error and betray inadequacy. When poets attempt different themes in the same poem, they often treat these separately or at random. It is rarely the case that they managed to achieve an easy, flowing which switch from one theme to another, such as moving from love poetry to praise, both of which were standard themes of Arabic poetry. They often use tools designed to alert the listener to the change of theme, or they talk in the first person. Hence, we often encounter alerting words, such as
'however, moreover, besides, but, etc.' or phrases like, 'be that as it may...; having said that...; let us now discuss...; we now move to...,
etc.'
This is the case when the different themes are tackled in the same discourse on the same occasion. What sort of treatment would we have, should they be treated on different occasions, separated by lengthy time intervals? It is only to be expected that the links would be very difficult to put in place and the gaps all the more apparent.
If we admire the literary excellence of the Qur'an in a short passage, with a single theme that is naturally coherent, let us now consider the
Qur'anic style over a whole surah, which includes different topics and themes, with different passages being revealed on different occasions and in varying circumstances. Here, we find the consistency of style and the unity of subject matter at their most wonderful.
The importance of the Qur'anic style attaches to brevity and concise expression, always avoiding lengthy discourse, as far as that is feasible while maintaining a superbly fine style, has made it the most innovative discourse we will ever come across. By innovative we mean that it employs a wide variety of styles and moves from one to the other at a speed unrivalled by any other discourse. Thus, it employs description, narration, legislative text, argument and many other forms. Indeed, it goes further than that so as to use the same style in a variety of ways, making it a group of styles.
What is even more remarkable is that despite being the most varied discourse in its themes and subjects, the
Qur'an is also most innovative in style when discussing a single subject. It neither retains the same mode for long, nor does it continue to address the same theme for any unnecessary length. Indeed, as it changes themes within the same surah, it employ different modes, such as implicit or explicit statements, narrative, nominal or verbal sentences, past, present or future tenses, first, second or third person, etc. the speed of switch from one mode to the other is such that it is totally unknown in any other style. Such rapid and frequent switching normally leads to confusion or error both in treating a subject and in moving from one subject to the other. But at no time do we ever detect such confusion or error in the
Qur'an. Indeed, it maintains a superb standard of powerful, flawless style throughout, utilising all these modes in painting a magnificent scene in which nothing is felt to be out of place. What person, having good command of Arabic, makes a thorough study of the
Qur'anic style without finding in its construction an aspect of the Qur'anic challenge?
Some newcomers to the study of the beauty of the Qur'anic style and its powerful construction may wonder about the psychological ease experience by both the reciter of the
Qur'an and its listener. It gives them both new freshness and renewed interest at every stage, so as never to be bored no matter how long they continue with their reading or listening. This peculiar phenomenon has different sources in the
Qur'an. But this psychological ease has an even deeper and more profound source, which is best appreciated by one who has studied fine speech thoroughly, distinguishing the finer qualities of literary works and how resourceful authors make use of their talents to produce their fine pieces. As such a person compares their styles with the
Qur'an, he realises that even the finest of talented poets and writers remain at the lowest step of a long ladder while the
Qur'an attains the zenith. Indeed, when the Qur'an moves from one stage to another, it gives in the new stage several new aspects of the theme it discusses and the style it employs. With such continuous process of renewal, how can any reader or listener be bored?
We can always try for ourselves, when we stand for a long while contemplating the same beautiful scene: does that give us the same sensation and admiration as a series of beautiful scenes, portraying different aspects of fine arrangements and splendid scenery? Certainly not! The same applies to the
Qur'anic style, which is so varied and continuously changing.
It is well known that, for the most part, the process of revelation of the
Qur'an is not one that brings different themes all at the same time. On the contrary, these themes were revealed individually, on numerous occasions, as required by events and needs. These differences of time occasions would have, by necessity, meant that the themes discussed should have resulted in a sort of separate and independent treatment on each occasion, leaving no room for linkages and cohesion.
These two reasons, the rapid and continuous change of style and mode of expression on the other hand and the tackling of different themes on separate occasions on the other, should have worked together in creating inconsistency and disjointedness when the separate revelations were joined together in the same surah.
Take, if you will, the text of a number of statements by the Prophet, or by any person of great literary talent, tackling different themes and which are known to have been made on different occasions. Then try to read them together, one after the other, in the same as you read a single speech, without adding or omitting anything of them. We do not need too long to realise that neither their meanings nor their texts would be consistent with one another. On the contrary, they would clearly betray a degree of discrepancy and patching up that is hardly ever noticed in a single speech, of similar or greater length.
Final Arrangement Made Far in Advance
Another reason which should have made a surah appear particularly disjointed is the way in which the
Qur'an joins different parts together in order to establish the unity of each surah. This provides a third most remarkable aspect that puts the
Qur'an in a class apart from all human styles, old and new.
What does a person do when he wants to make a product in which he needs to use several parts and components? The first thing is to review the parts and components at his disposal, making sure how they fit together; before making a plan that determines the place of every one of them. Making a plan cannot precede the finding out of the material at
one's disposal; in the same way that a picture cannot be taken of what is unseen. To reverse these two steps is to force the human mind along an unfamiliar, very slippery way, without providing any sort of guidance. Have you ever seen anyone following such an unnatural route and managing to achieve his objective without difficulty?
Would any rational human being determine the exact point of every part of what he wants to produce before making sure what parts he has at his disposal and the exact measurements and qualities of each part? Should he start with such determination, would his initial decision be his final one, subject to no change or review? If he insists on following such a method, will he manage to achieve the sort of perfection a master craftsman aspires to achieve? No intelligent person would ever do that. If he does it in respect of certain stages in his work, relying on his intuition, his plans remain provisional. He will be ready to change it the moment he realises that a change is necessary or desirable. He will then go back to modify his first plan marginally here, substantially there, shifting an important component from one stage to another, or using it as a separate stage altogether. He will continue to review his material and modify his overall plan time an time again until he comes up with a final version that uses each part in its most suitable place. Any arrangement that uses the parts before making sure the available material will be arbitrary, giving only an incomplete picture. The same applies to any structure that is not worked on the basis of complete and detailed knowledge of its parts. It will remain flimsy, liable to collapse at any time.
In fact when a human being begins to put together the component of any matter, he has to follow the natural way that determines the direction of anyone who has a definite objective in mind, whether physical or logical. If he needs to cover a number of steps, or climb upstairs, he simply cannot take a later step before he completes the preceding one, in the same way as he cannot climb a higher flight of stairs before a lower one. All this is determined by nature and applies to all our material and intellectual products. The rules apply in the same way to a builder, tailor, writer and poet.
Consider, if you will, this example. Suppose a man arrives in a vast plain where there is neither a building of any sort nor any building materials. Suddenly he feels an earthquake or a storm, and sees the top of a nearby mountain opening up and casting off some rocks and stones. After a short or long interval a similar event takes place, giving him a reasonable amount of iron, or silver or gold fragments. Do you think that any rational human being in this position would immediately resolve to build a whole town, using the material he has and that which he expects as a result of similar quakes and storms? Would he immediately begin to put his plan into effect and start the building process? How can he be certain that the phenomena gave him the initial material will happen again? If he does, how often? What sort of material would it give him every time, and in what quantities? How many buildings will it be possible for him to build, and in what system? How spacious will each building be? How many floors will it have? In what finish and decoration will it be? How much land is available to him for building?
In such total uncertainty, no rational human being would plan to build a small hut, let alone a large town. He would certainly
not start to build as soon as he received his first few rocks.
Let us now imagine that a person will nevertheless undertake such an adventure, and that fate gives him what he needs of building materials to complete the project he has devised. Would he undertake another adventure, following an unnatural method of building, vowing to place each brick or stone he receives in its ultimate place, wherever that might happen to be, the moment he gets hold of it? Would he do that when he knows for certain that the bricks he receives come in various forms, sizes and strengths; some are light while other are heavy; and arrive in no definite order. He may have the material to be used in the terrace or the balcony before he receives the posts and beams that support the basic structure. He may have, at the same time, several incomplete parts to be used wide apart. Should he try to place each small part in its ultimate place the moment he gets it, that would inevitably give him scattered, incomplete and unrelated parts, with varying distances in between. He would have to bring some bits together while others be kept separate. He may even try to build the loft of one building before he lays its foundation, to start with the ceiling without first raising its support.
How can any human being embark on such an adventure and carry on with it to its completion without going back at any moment to amend his plan or move any part from its original position to a new, seemingly better one, or to give any part more support or new decoration? How is it possible that the moment he lays the last brick or strikes the last nail, we see a complete town, perfectly planned, with every palace, home, room, or brick right in its most suitable position, adding to the beauty of the whole construction. Should any part or substance be moved from its place, a defect will be noticeable. Does that not constitute a huge challenge to the whole human race?
Planning the Whole Prior to Receiving the Parts
Yet this has actually happened in the matter we are considering. The man in our example is the Prophet [peace be upon him], who was never taught how to read and write. The great city which he began to build ever since its first bricks were given to him is this first perfect book, the
Qur'an. Ever since he received its early verses, he started to arrange its parts, confident that it would undoubtedly produce a complete and perfect whole. The palaces, rooms and bricks in our example are the surahs, passages and verses of the
Qur'an.
The unexpected events that brought the man in our example the rocks and metals that went into the building of palaces and villas are the world events, social developments and religious and worldly problems that faced people time after time in their private or public affairs. A believer would ask about these to learn what he should know. A non-believer would use them to argue and dispute. In all these events
Qur'anic revelations were given, a passage at a time, treating meanings that differed widely as would suit each case or occasion, in different lengths, and with varying tones ranging from the very lenient to the stiff an very hard. From these widely different passages, the sets known as surahs were formed, not on the basis of compatibility in each set, but allowing any number of passages, addressing any questions to join any set.
The totally unusual method followed in raising those buildings of the city in our example, haphazardly using their constituent parts, which is the third factor that makes the task impossible rather than hard, is also seen clearly in the
Qur'an. The man who received its revelation did not wait until all its passages had been given to him. Indeed, he did not wait for a single surah to be completed before deciding on its arrangement. Whenever he received a passage or a single verse, he ordered that it should be placed in its particular slot in a well-defined position in its surah.
We should emphasise here that the revelation of verses and passages did not follow the order in which they did occur in the
Qur'an. Many a surah was revealed, in whole or in parts, interspersed with the revelation of other passages in different surahs. Many a verse is placed towards the end of a surah despite its being revealed much earlier than the parts preceding it, and vice versa. Indeed, the revelation and arrangement of
Qur'anic verses and passages were two separate matters following two different routes which hardly ever me. This gives us a profoundly edifying aspect of the arrangement of this unique book.
If we look at each passage at the time of its revelation, and study the different aspects associated with its revelation: its timing, the events leading to it and the needs it satisfies, we are certain to conclude that each was topical at its particular time of revelation. Each one addressed a matter that happened to exist at a particular time. Prior to the event concerned, there was no indication suggesting that it was forthcoming. Hence, each passage is a complete while that does not follow a pattern which puts it with other passages in a particular mould.
Let us at the same time consider how each passage is placed at the very moment of its revelation within a particular framework with either has been set in advance, or will be set at a later stage, and given a definite slot that occurs early or late within that framework. At the time of its revelation, a passage is ordered to be placed, say, at the end of a particular surah, while another passage, revealed after a short or long while, is placed in the same surah, after a given number of its verses. One passage may be ordered to be placed at the outset of a surah of which no part has yet been revealed, while a subsequent passage is placed within a surah the rest of which has long since been revealed.
When we consider such detailed instructions on the arrangement of passages and Surahs we are bound to conclude that there is a complete and detailed plan assigning the position of each passage before they are all revealed. Indeed the arrangement is made before the reasons leading to the revelation of any passage occur, and even before the start of the preliminary causes of such events. Nevertheless, this whole, meticulously detailed plan of distribution and arrangement was made with full resolve and determination. Not a single verse or passage placed in a particular surah was later moved to a different one. Nor was a verse placed at the beginning or the end of a surah ever re-assigned a different position in that same surah at a later stage.
Such are the plain facts about the arrangement of the Qur'an as it was revealed in separate verses, passages and surahs over a period of 23 years. What does that tell us
about its source?
An Arrangement Pointing Out the Author
When we consider carefully the timing of the revelation of the Qur'anic passages and surahs and their arrangement, we are profoundly astonished. We almost belie what we see and hear. We then begin to ask ourselves for an explanation of this highly improbable phenomenon: is it not true that this new passage of revelation has just been heard as new, addressing a particular event which is its only concern? Yet it sounds as though it is neither new nor separate from the rest. It seems as if it has been, along with the rest of the
Qur'an, perfectly impressed on this man's mind long before he has recited it to us. It has been fully engraved on his heart before its composition in the words he recites. How else can it unite so perfectly and harmoniously parts and pieces that do not naturally come together?
Why has the person receiving these passages not left them separate as they were initially revealed? And when he decided to group them together, why has he not made them a single set? Or put them in equal or similar sets? What basis has he followed in their collation, distribution and arrangement in the present fashion, before they were complete in full or in part? Can all this be by mere coincidence? Certainly not; for each situation is clearly intended as it is. The deliberate intention is also clear that every group of passages or verses should be joined together in a separate unit of a particular length and arrangement. Or is it possible that all these arrangements, intended as they may be, do not follow a pre-determined order, but have come about as result of an experiment that follows a spontaneous thought? That could not be the case. When each part was put in its position, the one who placed them never had a new thought or introduced any modification or re-arrangement. How then could he have determined his plan? And how could he have made his intention so clear in advance?
That is the line of questioning that we may ask ourselves. When we listen attentively to the logical answer, it will have to ruin in the following fashion: A person who dares to make such a detailed and perfectly planned design must be either a deeply ignorant one or one who has perfect and absolute knowledge that transcends human logic. There can be no other alternative. If he is one who has completed its perfect system of composition and arrangement before he has had complete and confirmed knowledge of the reasons behind the composition of each passage, its purpose, objectives and what it entails, then he merely resorts to guesswork and random preference. Such a person is a shameless impudent who dares to claim for himself what he does not have. His vain boasting will soon prove to be otiose. You only need to leave him alone for a while and the fallacy of his position will be made clearly apparent. It is not possible that ignorance should give birth to a solid system that lasts and flourishes.
If, on the other hand, this person has made his design on the basis of infallible knowledge, placing every verse and every passage in its perfectly designed position, then the system he comes up with must be unquestionably perfect and splendidly beautiful. But then the designer cannot be that human being, unless it has been imparted to him by a source well beyond his highest horizon. How is it possible for a human being, subject as he is to the effect of time, to be in control of the nature of time? When a human being is completely ignorant of the causes and preliminaries of his action, can he be well aware of the details of its results and consequences? Can he be completely unaware, yet perfectly aware, of the one and same thing? Is it possible that he should be subject to, and in control of, the same thing, at the same time?
Has anyone ever seen or heard that a poet or a man of letters was able at the start of his literary career to collect all that he would ever say or write of poetry or prose on all future occasions right to the point of his death. He would then devise a plan for his future edition of his complete works which does not merely predict their themes and chapters, but perfectly estimates the number of poems and article its exact position in the ultimate edition. Then when in its future life the time arrives for any such work to be produced, he would put it in its pre-defined position without question. What is more is that his plan would score an unqualified success, showing the wisdom of his planning and fulfilling his dreams. His system will appear to all and sundry to be perfect, putting all his future works in their respective pre-arranged positions, changing nothing and modifying nothing.
If such hypothesis can ever be true of anyone, it will be true of the Prophet who delivered the
Qur'an. But man remains what he is. A human being who is totally unaware of future events in his life that will prompt him to express his thoughts in prose or poetry is less likely to be aware of the actual texts of what he will say, and further unlikely to know the merit of each text. Indeed, when a person feels the urge to compose something he will choose one of two options. The first is to leave his thought as he has expressed it. He does the same with what he writes or says on subsequent occasions. When he has composed enough material he goes back to what he has written, putting like with like, separating what needs to put apart, classifying and arranging his work in a suitable and coherent order. The second option is to gather these texts according to their chronological order.
There is a third option, which is to leave them in groups. He will then work on each group separately, putting its parts together in a rigid and haphazard way, not allowing any piece to be shifted from its original place. He will still hope that in this way, he will come up with a well ordered and classified work, perfectly arranged into parts and chapters. What is more is that his work will show an unusual degree of coherence that puts every sentence, word and particle in its right place. Such an option will only produce the opposite of what one desires.
Perfect Unity of Whole and Part
We have seen how human beings work when they try to produce a coherent whole out of separate parts, whether this be a literary piece or something different. This is totally different from the unity that is produced when parts of the
Qur'anic revelations are joined together to form a single whole. Indeed, the
Qur'anic order should have reflected absolutely no unity or coherence because of three different factors that should have made it totally disjointed. These are: divergent elements of the meaning, times of revelation separated by long or short periods, and widely different situations to be addressed on each occasion.
Let us now consider whether these factors and their combined effect have diminished in any way the coherent order of any surah that has been composed in such a manner. The Arabs who were challenged to produce a single surah like the
Qur'an would have jumped at the opportunity to detract from the Qur'an, had they found any flaw in the composition of a single surah. They would have needed no temptation to have a go at it. Literary critics of the highest calibre in successive generations have been citing examples from the
Qur'an to illustrate the perfect harmony of composition when it addresses different meanings or changes styles and modes of expression.
We for our part should study carefully the construction of the Qur'an and how its arrangement has been made so as to produce such perfect structure to merit
God's description of it: 'A discourse in the Arabic tongue, free of all
deviousness.'' (39:28). Take any one of the many surahs of the Qur'an that tackle more than one purpose. Indeed, these are the majority. Now review it very carefully, stage by stage, and then contemplate it again, and yet again: how it begins, and how it ends. How it reflects the contrast and balance between its constituent parts. How is relates its main themes to each other. And how its premises lead to its conclusions, and the early parts lead to those that follow.
I maintain that no one will ever find in the line of the meanings it portrays or in the construction of its verses and sentences anything to indicate whether it was revealed all on the same occasion or on several occasions. You will imagine that each of the seven longest surahs was revealed in total on one occasion, but then you will have to acknowledge the fact that most of them were revealed one passage at a time. In fact, this applies to all surahs, long and short as they may be, which have been revealed in parts. In fact, very short surahs, like Surah 93, 96 and 107 were each revealed in two parts, on two different occasions. Of the longest 7 surahs, perhaps Surah 6 was revealed on one occasion, as scholars suggest. But then the method of moving from one meaning to another in Surah 6 and the surahs revealed in several occasions is the same.
It may be said that although a surah might have been put together after its parts were revealed separately, these parts were in one whole unit prior to their separate revelation. This would be the same as, say, a historic building which needs to be moved as it is from one place to another. Its detailed dimensions are measured and
it's every stone or brick is given a number before it is dismantled. In this way, every little part is assigned its exact position. When it is reconstructed, it regains its exact shape and acquires an even more solid foundation.
When we read a long surah that was revealed in a number of passages over a long period of time, an ignorant person may think that it is no more than an assortment of laboured meanings and a random collection of syntactic structures. But when you examine it very carefully you will find it to be a solid structure bringing together the main purposes in an elaborate system which lays down every aspect, giving it its sections and branches which are then further divided into long or short subdivisions. When you move from one part of the surah to another, you feel as if you are looking at the rooms and the halls of one building that has been designed by a single architect who gave it his whole attention until the building was completed. You will not feel any mismatch in the allocation of space of the distribution of amenities. Nor will you sense any split as you move from one passage to another. Indeed, the reverse is true. You will feel perfect unity between the different types and consummate harmony between the constituent parts of each type. What is more is that all this has been achieved without recourse to anything apart from the intended purposes themselves. What helps to bring it about are the ease of introduction and the fine treatment at the beginning, middle and completion of every purpose. Thus, you see a direct link between separate parts and perfect harmony between distinct identities.
But then we do not give a proper description of the unity of the Qur'anic surahs when we compare them to a single building with rooms and halls conforming to the same design. This is an adequate description. The parts and passages of each surah are welded together and brought into perfect harmony in the same way as the organs of the human body. Between each two passages there is an inherent link uniting them, in the same way as two bones meet at a joint with the mass of connective tissues and ligaments completing the linkage, then the two organs supported by two bones are linked by arteries and nerves. Beyond that, the whole surah moves in the same direction to fulfil a particular purpose, just like we see the human body having a single stature, while all its organs perform different biological functions that help to complete a single purpose.
Remember that the parts and elements that ensure the unity of each surah were related to events that had not all taken place at the time of the revelation of that surah in the
Qur'an, nor were they expected to happen at the outset of its revelation. Moreover, the perfection of that unity required that all these events and causes must, by necessity, take place at their appointed and allocated time so that the
Qur'an might have the opportunity to address them. The question that must be asked here is: what dictated the course of events so as to make it serve the purpose of these passages and to ensure that every single event should take place at the time of revelation of the
Qur'an ? Should a single event have failed to materialise at the time, the whole system giving the
Qur'an its unity and harmony would have been disrupted. This would have given us at least one surah without a proper opening or conclusion or with a split in the middle.
The fact that cosmic events have been made to serve the structure of these literary passages and ensure their perfect unity provides clear evidence that both the literary speech and the actual event have come from the same source. Indeed, the One whose knowledge has given these words is the One whose will has produced those events and creatures. They are all from God, whose will is always done and whose verdict is final. All glory belongs to Him.
Meticulous accuracy and staggering adequacy. An example of the
Quran's accuracy has never been equalled in composition. For example, the word
'fertilising' in the following verse:
“We let loose the fertilising wind” (15, 22)
It was in the past understood in a figurative sense to mean that the wind stimulates the clouds causing them to rain; the rain would then
'fertilise' the soil, that is, make it productive. Nowadays, however, we know that the winds drive positively-charged clouds into negatively-charged ones causing lightning, thunder, and rain. In this sense they
'fertilise' the clouds. We also know that winds carry the pollen from one flower to the other thus literally fertilising them. Hence, we are before a word which Is truly figuratively, literally, and scientifically. It is, moreover, aesthetically superb and rhythmically pleasing. This is what we mean by meticulous accuracy in the choice and placing of a word.
Let us also consider the following verse:
''Do not usurp each other's property by unjust means, nor bribe judges with it in order that you may knowingly and wrongfully deprive others of their
possessions.'' (2:188)
The Arabic word used for 'bribe' here is 'todloo' which literally means to 'lower' something or send it down. This may seem a strange use putting in mind that the judge or ruler to whom the money is given is in a higher not lower position vis-a-vis the givers. The Quran, however, effects an appropriate correction with this use: the hand that accepts bribes is a lower hand even if it is the
ruler's or the judge's. This is how the expression 'lower it down to the
judge's ' comes in an unequalled stylistic adequacy to convey the meanness and degradation of those who receive bribes.
The Details and the Whole in the Qur'anic Picture
Let us now suppose that the man who has given us the Qur'an could have been able to predict with perfect accuracy all future events, important and trivial, that would take place through the remainder of his own life. Let us further imagine that he was also able to determine what teachings of the
Qur'an would be needed to address these future events. The question to be asked here is: how could he have predicted which teachings would go with which parts and passages, so as to be ready to receive each part as it is revealed and give its appropriate and firm link that fits it most perfectly in its pre-assigned slot? Why was it then that when each passage was revealed it found itself in its most suitable position, perfectly comfortable with its adjoining parts? The space assigned to it is neither too narrow to give a laboured impression, nor too loose to weaken its links with the rest. It fits in like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle. There was never a need to make even the slightest change, or rearrangement, or to delete or add even a particle in the preceding passage to allow the new one to slot in.
Indeed, how could that man have known each part and to what unit or group it belonged? How could he have known at what position in that unit it would be placed, well before he became aware of the other parts of the unit? How is it that when the separate parts given at random are all set in their respective positions, assigned to them in advance, the curtain is raised and we see every surah like a beauty queen, perfectly moulded, tastefully adorned?
What elaborate design, what perfect forethought, and what faultless knowledge that never forgets, hesitates or errs, has prepared for such a broad assortment of material its perfect design, and directed each piece of it to its assigned slot? How come that when each has taken its place according to the advance design, the result is a necklace in which each gemstone is perfectly placed so as to add to the superb beauty of the necklace while losing nothing of its own attraction.
We all know that human knowledge always looks at what it has completed and says:
'If I were to begin anew, I would have changed this plan for that, or started with this idea instead of
that.' Such knowledge simply cannot produce a perfect design in advance of the events to which it applies. This, in itself, is an irrefutable proof that the
Qur'an is made by no human being. Its author is the One whose knowledge is perfect, absolute, and independent of time.
''Had [the Qur'an] issued from any but God, they would surely have found in it many inner
contradiction.'' (4:82).
Conclusion
Once we prove that Allah Exists and that the Qur'an is the Speech of Allah (which proves that Muhammad is a messenger of Allah), then we submit to everything that is in the Qur'an. Furthermore, the Qur'an mentions realities that are beyond our senses, such as Paradise and Hell, the Day of Judgment, Angels, etc. Because we have intellectually proven that the Qur'an itself is from Allah (which we have intellectually proven to exist without a doubt), then submitting to everything in the Qur'an cannot be considered 'blind faith.' We should never take anything on 'blind faith.' We should be convinced that Islam is correct without a doubt. Even after we are convinced that Islam is correct, our minds do not cease to function. Rather, they continue to function at their utmost; the only difference is that, as Muslims, their role is well defined. To prove the correctness of Islam, we use our minds to its capacity, and the only limitation is the limitations of the intellectual process itself. However, after we are convinced that Islam is correct, and we become Muslims, we continue to use our minds, but we use our minds to UNDERSTAND what Allah (swt) revealed to us.
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