Essence of divine guidance
By Haider Zaman
WHEN Allah told the angels that He was going to place His vicegerent on earth (the reference was to the creation of Adam), they got astonished and said: “Will You set up one who will create disorder and bloodshed on earth when we are engaged ceaselessly in Your service and glorify Your name.” Allah said “I know all that you do not know” (2:30).
Allah had His own scheme of things when He told the angels “I know all that you do not know”. He designed the human soul, the main animating force of all human actions, right or wrong, with three inclinations. One was the inclination towards doing wrong and evil things, termed as Nafs-i-Ammarah by the Holy Quran, exhibiting the inherent terrestrial characteristics (12:53).
The other was the inclination towards realisation and repentance i.e. to realise immediately, if one does something wrong that what he has done is wrong, and repent over it or rather reproach himself for what he has done, termed as Nafs-i-Lowwamah (75:2). The third was towards doing good and righteous deeds, termed as Nafs-i-Mutmainnah (89:27) also called the soul at peace.
Since one of the inclinations of the soul had terrestrial characteristics, there was need for exercising necessary control over it. With that object in view Allah endowed the human beings with faculties that could be of great help in the control and suppression of the inclination having terrestrial characteristic. They are: the mind (the seat of consciousness, thinking, intellect, reasoning and memorising) (16:78), the conscience i.e. the ability to make distinction between right and wrong in regard to one’s own conduct (91:8) and love and mercy (30:21).
Here, it may be explained that in the Arabic idioms the word “heart” implies mind and affection. Therefore, in the verse (16:78), the word “hearts” has to be understood to have reference to mind and affection. Besides, from the Quranic verse (32:9) which says Allah breathed some of His own spirit in the human beings it further follows that a fraction of some of the attributes of Allah might have come along with that spirit.
Being so shaped and designed what remained was the Divine guidance for the proper use and control of the said faculties which started simultaneously with the creation of Adam. When Adam was created Allah taught him the names of certain things and then asked the angels “now if you are right, tell Me the names of these things” (2:31). The angels said “O Lord, we know only that which you have taught us” (2:32). Allah then turned to Adam and said “tell Me of their names.” When Adam told their names, Allah said “did I not tell you that I know all that you reveal or conceal” (2.33). Then Allah ordered all to fall prostrate before Adam. All the angels fell prostrate except iblis (satan).
The main object of the above exercise, as may be seen, was to highlight the importance of knowledge and how much it was valued by Allah. It was knowledge that gave Adam an edge over the angels. The importance of knowledge has been highlighted by the Quran in several other ways. It is one of those attributes of Allah that has been emphasised again and again by the Quran. A large number of the Quranic verses end with the reaffirmation of this attribute in one way or another. For example it says “Allah is full of knowledge and wisdom” (4:17), “Allah is All-knowing and All-wise” (4:24) and “He embraceth all things in His knowledge” (20:98).
Knowledge was also quality of all the Prophets. For example about Moses the Quran says “when he reached his full strength and was ripe, We give him wisdom and knowledge” (28:14). About David it says “and we verily gave knowledge to David and Solomon” (27:15) and about Muhammad (peace be upon him) it says “Allah has sent down to you the Book and wisdom and taught you what you did not know” (4:113).
The Quran further says “But say O Lord, advance me in knowledge” (20:114) which in fact exhorts us to go on acquiring more and more of knowledge. The importance of knowledge is also evident from the Quranic verse which says “can those who have knowledge and those who have no knowledge ever be equal” (39:9) and the verse which says “Allah will exalt those among you who believe and have knowledge to high ranks” (58:11). The Prophet also said to go on acquiring knowledge from cradle to grave and go even to China for the acquisition of knowledge.
Acquisition of knowledge and actualisation of Taqwa were the two main elements with which the Divine guidance to the human beings started. The knowledge contemplated by the Quran means any knowledge, including the religious knowledge, that could be of benefit to mankind. Actualisation of Taqwa means that all the thoughts, feelings and actions of the person are permeated by the fear of Allah.
Knowledge broadens the scope of vision, enhances the power of insight, strengthens the effectiveness of conscience and enlarges the area of one’s activities. But all this could be of no use without Taqwa which alone can serve as the impelling force for the proper application of knowledge. Knowledge can inter alia enable one to know what right and wrong could be while Taqwa can enable one to do the right thing and get the reward (28:80).
Thus, with the aid of faculties the human beings have been endowed with, coupled with knowledge and animated by Taqwa, the human beings can be in a position not only to control and suppress the inclination of the soul have terrestrial characteristic but also to activate the other two inclinations thereof and thereby convert the terrestrial environment into heavenly environment.


The paralysis of creation
By Steve Walters
THE scientist James Lovelock predicts that global warming may compel our generation to discover the sort of heroism his displayed in the war against fascism. Yet the elusive challenges of climate change won’t serve as a call to arms until we unlock our imagination from its current paralysis.
Admittedly the facts are pretty paralysing. The problems before us are too massive for human intervention, too complex for the layperson, too scientific for democracy, with every way forward mired in controversy; add immobilising invocations of terrorism as background music and it’s all too tempting just to sit back, burn the patio-heater and leave the DVD on permanent standby.
Unfortunately the first casualty of this barrage of bad news is the imagination. Climate change brings on its own variant of seasonal affective disorder. The malfunctioning of the seasons, endlessly deferred autumn, muggy nights and flourishing lawns undermine our mental metabolism; like passengers after a long-haul flight, we find it hard to know where we are in time or space. And, just as flora and fauna are baffled by contradictory climatic signals, our need to envisage the future is stymied.
The result is a contraction of the horizon. How exactly do we picture a world where the stores of glacial water that feed the Indian subcontinent are gone, where Bangladesh, the Netherlands and King’s Lynn are under the sea? For the inhabitant of the Sahel, things are probably clearer - more of the same, and viciously so. In the west we play out the implausible scenario of us defending to the death our extortionate lifestyles, with token gestures at the margins. This inability to connect trauma in the biosphere with the small print of our lives stalls the necessity for radical change. For this new world will surely impose change on us if we don’t freely choose it.
Writers have a duty of a sort here: given that our collective imagination has crashed in the face of the magnitude of this crisis, and that, for all the rhetoric of David Cameron and deeds of David Miliband, the political response amounts to tinkering, we have to create stories that map this imminent future. And we must resist the temptations of apocalyptica. There is something just a little too cosy about survivalist narratives. And we have been here before: the cold war also blotted out the future, with science fiction the dominant form; indeed, our social realism may need to be closer to sci-fi than hitherto. Dramatic stories have too often dwelt on the human foreground with nature as a setting; now it’s a protagonist in its own right.
One model for us from that time is the stoical wit of Samuel Beckett. In his play Happy Days, Winnie, literally paralysed in a mound of earth by some undisclosed disaster, celebrates “another lovely day” under “blazing light”. She, like us, tinkers, admiring her toothbrush and finding solace in misremembered poetry. Her survival is predicated on a wonderfully comprehensive form of denial, a fastidious focus on the foreground. Winnie rather belies Lovelock’s hope that extraordinary times might provoke extraordinary behaviour; therein lies Beckett’s terrifying realism.
To offset Winnie’s bleak example, the anxiety-riven plays of late 19th-century naturalism offer us another role-model: Chekhov’s Dr Astrov, in Uncle Vanya, who salvages a patch of Russian forest from the ravages of development. Rather like Lovelock, Astrov is a man of deeds, a Cassandra blurting out his visionary project of reforestation to Yelena, the woman he adores. As he speaks, his hope gives way to a lament:”Almost everything has been destroyed now, and nothing yet has been created in its place.” Sadly, his listener’s indifference is all too familiar; as Astrov bitterly notes, “I see from your expression you’re not interested.”
Chekhov wasn’t facing the devastation we seem to be headed for; yet his intimation of profound environmental changes registering on the very nerve-ends of his characters still resonates. Poets, as the critic Jonathan Bate notes, have stored up the kind of eco- consciousness that might make us feel for nature rather than despoil it; dramatists, however, map the way we actually live. And the future rather depends on whether we can envisage ourselves playing the part of Winnie or Astrov. —The Guardian, London


