Understanding Gossip and Criticism in Society
Muftī Yūsuf Asʿad Khān, may Allāh preserve him, is a gifted and well-grounded scholar. He is engaged in daʿwah and educational activities in Mumbai. One of his virtues is that, despite a deep attachment to the transmitted tradition, he keeps a discerning eye on contemporary issues and seeks to comprehend the demands of new circumstances. For this reason the interest of young people in his reformative discourses increases day by day. Along with knowledge, he possesses a refined literary taste and an affinity with poetry. Owing to the breadth of his mind and his diverse scholarly and literary interests, hearts are naturally drawn towards him.
The topic of a recent post of his was how the gatherings of Muslims, once circles of dhikr, reflection and goodwill, are turning into assemblies of backbiting and ill-speaking.
Formerly, in a gathering, supplications of goodness were offered for someone; now, one searches for an excuse to pray for another’s forgiveness. In the past people, in another’s absence, would recount his virtues; now that absence is deemed a golden opportunity to enumerate his faults. A cup of tea sits before them while the round of backbiting proceeds. The tea grows cold, yet the subject remains hot. Someone asked a gentleman: “Ḥaḍrat, what is the theme of your gatherings nowadays?” He replied, “The reformation of society!” It was asked, “Mā shāʾ Allāh, from which angle do you effect reformation?” He said, “Only yesterday we reformed so-and-so, and the day before tomorrow we must reform such-and-such.” The questioner submitted, “And your own reformation?” He answered, “That is a permanent topic; it requires time!”
In this very connection I have just had a telephone conversation with our respected benefactor and friend, Mawlānā Riḍāʾ al-Ḥaqq, Principal of Jāmiʿat al-Hudā, Nottingham. He expressed amazement that some people work while others level accusations against them, oppose them and erect obstacles in their path. I said that, in such a situation, there is also a benefit for those who work: they are given the opportunity to take themselves to account. Then, if any shortcoming should occur from their side, the hurt caused by others may become a means for the forgiveness of their sins and the raising of their ranks. Thus those who oppose imagine that they are blocking someone’s way, yet oftentimes they are in fact rendering a service by elevating his ranks. It is another matter that those who render this service are unaware of it, and those for whom the service is done have no need to express gratitude!
When the conversation ended, it occurred to me that understanding without anything being said is an old malady. Indeed, to call it an art is more fitting, for a malady befalls a person, whereas this some gentlemen have consciously adopted. They possess neither information nor witness nor proof, yet their conclusions are fully prepared. The event is not even born and its interpretation has already been completed. Some people ascribe it to the “weaker sex”, but I am not in favour of unjustly defaming women in this matter. This is a man-made art whose laurels are placed upon the heads of others. In my own observation this ailment is found rather more among men. Gentlemen hear a single remark of someone and construct the entire episode. If the first half of the story is known, they write the second themselves; and if the second too is discovered, they add a third from their own side, then narrate it as though they were present there. Their staple phrase is: “I do not say anything, but I know the inside story!” If one asks how they learnt the inside story, the reply comes: “We just know.” This “we just know” is a strange kind of proof before which the greatest evidences drown.
Among the masters of this art is one Ḥaḍrat Mukhbir. His speciality is that he obtains information even before an event occurs. One day someone asked him, “Ḥaḍrat, who informed you of this matter concerning so-and-so?” He replied, “No one informed me.” It was asked, “Then how did you come to know?” He said, “We had already surmised.” It was said, “But the matter turned out to be completely different!” He declared, “You still do not understand this affair; the real issue is something else.” To this day no one has discovered that “real issue”, yet Ḥaḍrat Mukhbir is utterly convinced of its existence!
One of his associates is Janāb Tajziyah-kār Ṣāḥib, the Analyst. His distinction is that from a single meeting he can extract ten conclusions. If two persons meet, he immediately inquires about the purpose of that meeting. Should the answer be that they met to ask after one another’s well-being, he smiles and says, “You are very naive; the world is not so simple!” If asked how he knows that there was a special purpose behind the meeting, he replies, “One needs an eye that sees!” If it is said, “And a mind that understands?” the answer comes, “That too we possess, but we do not employ it everywhere!”
Likewise there is one Qiblah Nāqid Ṣāḥib, the Critic, whose routine is that, upon rising each morning, he seeks to know what someone has done today so that he may pronounce an opinion upon it. If a person establishes an institution, he says, “He did it for fame.” If one does not establish an institution, he declares, “He lacks ability.” Should someone raise funds, he sniffs out financial motives; if another raises no funds, he questions his spirit of service. One day someone submitted, “Ḥaḍrat, what then should a man do?” He replied, “He should consult us!” It was asked, “And if he does not agree with your advice?” He said, “Then his intention itself is dubious!” Qiblah Nāqid Ṣāḥib’s excellence is that he himself never undertakes any work, hence no error issues from him. His entire time is spent locating the mistakes of others. From work errors appear, whereas from criticism only the tongue receives exercise. Since Allāh has granted a tongue, after all it ought to be used!
A recollection from my days at Nadwah comes to mind. When I was newly appointed as a teacher, my respected teacher, Mawlānā Muḥammad Rābiʿ Ḥasanī Nadwī—may Allāh have mercy on him—once said to me, “Some young teachers speak ill of you.” I did not ask what they said, because in my view there was no benefit in learning the details. If the statement is true, it is backbiting; and if untrue, it is calumny and slander. In neither case could hearing it be a pleasant occupation for me. I submitted, “Ḥaḍrat, have I ever spoken ill of anyone?” Mawlānā liked this response greatly and the matter ended there.
From this incident I derived the lesson that a person should account for his own tongue rather than keep a ledger of others’ tongues. Yet among us those who keep account of their own tongues are few, while those who audit others’ tongues are many. There is the claim of reaching into others’ intentions, but an entire lifetime passes without becoming acquainted with one’s own intention. For investigating others’ affairs there is full alertness, whereas, when the moment comes to examine oneself, a drowsiness overtakes the soul.
Do we really possess so much time that we can keep others as the constant subject of our discourse? Has our own self-rectification been completed? Is the ledger of our own deeds spotless that now an audit of others’ books has become necessary? If there is disagreement, present it with evidence; if criticism, advance it with sincere goodwill; if a mistake needs to be pointed out, then do so, but do not perform a post-mortem on another’s intention. And if one knows nothing about someone’s matter, then remain silent. Silence is no penal offence; indeed, at times it is the greatest wisdom.
Those gentlemen who possess the extraordinary ability of understanding without anything being said are requested, most respectfully, to employ this ability upon themselves once in a while. It may be that someone is drawing a wrong meaning from one of your own statements. Then you will realise how dangerous this art is in the hands of others! Otherwise, one day you too will be the topic of some gathering. There Ḥaḍrat Mukhbir will report the news, Janāb Tajziyah-kār Ṣāḥib will extract its ten meanings, and Qiblah Nāqid Ṣāḥib will issue the verdict. When you arrive to offer clarification, the response will be: “Ḥaḍrat, leave it be; we know everything!”
And that will be the very moment you will feel that some people truly do understand everything without anything being said—save that, alas, they always understand what in reality is not!
