Which Aspect of the Intellect do I Admire Most?

BeliefCharacter and EthicsSpirituality

Ordinarily, Muftī Ṣāḥib and I engage in debates on a daily basis, and almost every matter becomes a point of contention between us. Yet most of these disagreements are merely verbal in nature; in truth, what divides us is expression and preference. Whenever I select a word, Muftī Ṣāḥib delights in discovering some fault in it, and promptly suggests an alternative term, no matter how discordant in sound, or how crude and inelegant in meaning. Clearly, not only I but any reasonable person would refrain from using such words. If, however, one were to adopt them, that alone would be taken as sufficient proof of being an “enemy of the elders.”

One day Muftī Ṣāḥib remarked: “The Companions are the standard of truth.” With due respect I submitted: “Muftī Ṣāḥib, this expression is not fitting. It would be better to say that they are the foremost in conforming to the standard of truth and the scale of justice established by the Prophet صلى الله عليه وسلم through the command of God, the Exalted.” That was enough for Muftī Ṣāḥib to consider me an adversary of truth! One might suppose that he believed the Companions to be infallible; indeed, I too once imagined so. But he dispelled that notion by affirming: “The Prophets are infallible, while the Companions are protected.” No one dares point out to him that, in Arabic, these two terms are synonymous. At least it is clear that Muftī Ṣāḥib does not call the Companions infallible. Perhaps it is fairer to say that Muftī Ṣāḥib does not properly grasp the meaning of the word “standard.”

I respectfully added: “Muftī Ṣāḥib, the word ‘standard’ is found neither in the Qurʾān nor in the Sunnah, so why insist on it? In exalting the Companions, we are in no way behind you; in fact, we surpass you. Please read my book Maqām al-Ṣaḥābah. You merely take their names, while in practice you follow your elders. Had the Companions been your true standard, you would have followed them.” In my heart I thought: Muftī Ṣāḥib likens his elders to the sun and moon, and the Companions to mere stars — then what metaphor is left for the Prophets? But I dared not voice this, for even what little I had said had already provoked his anger. Since it is hard for Muftī Ṣāḥib to endure hearing the truth, I deemed silence the safer course. Taking undue liberty with my quietness, this knower of hidden mysteries waved his banner of victory across East and West.

That was an old incident. The more recent affair is this: one day Muftī Ṣāḥib entered the room in a state of fury. Whenever he is enraged, an awe-inspiring majesty manifests in his beauty; his radiance increases, so that the splendour of his countenance shines all the more. Before I could compose myself to behold this overwhelming sight, he burst forth: “Why do you keep invoking the intellect?”

I replied with courtesy: “Among all that God has bestowed within the human being, the most honoured and beneficial faculty is the intellect. It is through it that we distinguish between right and wrong. Without intellect, you too know well what would be the rightful place of such a being.” He retorted: “You are mocking me — in fact, taunting me!” Unthinkingly the words escaped my lips: “Why would there be any need for that?” Thereafter the clamour that filled the room — God protect us! I pacified him with apologies until his wrath cooled.

When his temper subsided, I said: “Is not Mawlānā Ashraf ʿAlī Thānvī, may God have mercy on him, known as Ḥakīm al-Ummah?” At the mention of Mawlānā Thānvī, a radiance spread across Muftī Ṣāḥib’s face. However angry he may be, the mere reference to Thānvī disperses his rage. He declared: “Forget the harsh words of earlier. The truth is, had there been no Ḥakīm al-Ummah, in this age of misguidance the path of truth would have become orphaned.”

He then continued: “My complaint with you is that you do not read the works of righteous scholars. The only exception is Mawlānā ʿAbd al-Mājid Daryābādī’s Ḥakīm al-Ummah, which suits your temperament — that you must read.” I replied: “Not once, but many times I have read it.”

When Muftī Ṣāḥib reached the heights of delight, I ventured: “Muftī Ṣāḥib, is not wisdom founded upon intellect? Was not Mawlānā Thānvī, alongside being Ḥakīm al-Ummah, a possessor of reason and discernment?” He affirmed: “Without doubt.” I said: “That is exactly my point: through the use of intellect, men such as Ḥakīm al-Ummah are produced.” He conceded: “If this is your meaning, I have no quarrel with you.” I breathed again.

The discussion turned to the virtues and excellences of the intellect. Muftī Ṣāḥib asked: “Tell me, which aspect of the intellect pleases you most?” I replied: “Muftī Ṣāḥib, let this question pass. The atmosphere of the room has just improved — if I answer directly, a new tribulation may arise. Would it not be better if you leave in a pleasant mood, unlike the temper with which you entered?” He reassured: “Fear not. I was mistaken to think ill of you. By acknowledging Mawlānā Thānvī as Ḥakīm al-Ummah, you have delighted me, and convinced me that you are one of our own.” I said: “Is it not enough that I am a Muslim?” He declared: “Let me be plain: whoever does not invoke the name of Ḥakīm al-Ummah, I regard his Islam and faith to be dubious.”

He pressed on: “Answer my question without fear. Which quality of intellect do you most admire?” I answered: “That the intellect informs of the end-result.” He said: “But the outcome belongs to the unseen. Are you, then, claiming knowledge of the unseen on the basis of intellect?” I responded: “Not the whole unseen, but through intellect I have at least realised this much: never answer a muftī’s question. For he will never be satisfied with your reply, but will only pose a fresh question. If you answer that, he will declare your doctrine erroneous; if you answer the next, he will expel you from the faith and the community. Thus, the intellect teaches that if safety in this world and the next is desired, one must never answer a muftī’s question.”

Saying this, I at once rose and departed. Muftī Ṣāḥib kept shouting: “O enemy of the religion, listen to me!” But I judged it unwise to tarry, and to this day have not had the courage to face him again.

Disclaimer: This article was translated by AI. Original post: https://t.me/DrAkramNadwi/6839