Author: Tuppence

This is the first line of the Quran: “In the name of God, the Entirely Merciful, the Especially Merciful.” It is so universal a phrase in the Muslim world that it has a name: the basmala. When slaughtering animals, recite the basmala. When addressing official documents, write the basmala. Muslims are encouraged to embark upon every endeavor with the words of the basmala. It even has its own unicode symbol: ﷽. Yes, that is all one character according to a computer. Do yourself a favor and look up “basmala calligraphy” to see just how many beautiful ways that Muslims tribute the phrase artistically. The basmala is so beloved because it invokes God’s sanctuary and benevolence. It is the preamble or first line to every surah of the Quran.

Excepting Surah at-Tawba.

This is the only surah of the Quran that does not begin with an invocation of God’s mercy. While there are several explanations as to why it does not happen here, the common answer is that Surah at-Tawba is a declaration of war and wrath, not mercy. I still hold that it is far too early to declare that the Quran is a violent book, but this is definitely a violent chapter. Last week we looked at the hostile attention and actions it targeted at the people who habitually sin through shirk. Despite there being plenty to say about those people, most of the surah is actually addressed to believers and hypocrites. Today we’re going to examine the surah’s call to repentance within the Muslim’s own ranks.

Surah at-tawba, “The Repentence,” is one of the last revealed chapters of the Quran. Tradition holds that this surah was revealed nine years after Muhammad’s relocation to Medina. At that point, the Muslims had successfully conquered Mecca, destroyed the pagan idols surrounding the Ka’ba, and had allied together most of the Arabian peninsula. Yet Muhammad’s state still looked more like a loose confederation than a nation. Members were unified around Muhammad, but did not have a group identity. Many allied tribes were still non-Muslim, perhaps following Muhammad out of fear for the Muslim military, or to ride on Muslim successes, or for access to the all-significant Ka’ba. With such a dynamic, members less beholden to Muhammad posed a considerable risk, as they were likely to take opportunity of any foreign invasions or internal conflicts in order to release themselves from taxes or the suppression of their historical (pagan) culture. And so to these less-beholden people Surah at-Tawba draws the line: repent, or else.

The main threats to Muhammad’s authority are the munafiquun and the mushrikuun. I already covered the etymology of the munafiquun, “ones who tunnel,” (hypocrites) within this post. The word mushrikuun is usually translated as “polytheists” or “pagans” in the Quran, though it literally translates as “ones who associate.” The key roots are sh-r-k, which are harmless enough roots in other Arabic words but are most critically used in the name of the sin shirk, which means to associate anything with God. Today’s post will focus on the call to people who shirk, a category extending from the pagans to the Jews and the Christians.

Surah al-Anfal, “The Spoils of War.” In name and content, this surah is about battle and victory. Although not named, multiple ayat indicated to me that this surah concerns the aftermath of the Battle of Badr, an event which we already heard some about in Surah al-‘Imran: there is a caravan in a valley, a surprise meeting of armed forces, and a stunning victory. Surah al-‘Imran, if you’ll remember, was about the battle lost at the foot of Mt. Uhud, and it referenced the first victory at Badr to indict the Muslims of their failure. Because of that, I wonder why al-Anfal is placed after and thus far away from al-‘Imran. For Muslims reading according to the traditional 30-day Juz’ schedule, the messages are separated by five days. If al-Anfal and al-‘Imran had been placed one after the other, historical order of events would have been preserved, and the cautionary messages here would have combined with the reprimands in al-‘Imran into a very poignant joint reading.

Despite being about a stunning victory, there are very few congratulations in Surah al-Anfal. Victory has brought loot, and loot has awakened divisions and a sense of entitlement amongst individuals. To employ an English turn of phrase, the spoils have spoiled things. Muslims are given permission to enjoy their victory, but always they are reminded that the victory belongs to God and to His Prophet. Authority is being reinforced, and the words “God” and “Messenger” appear in frequent parallel to drive home who has the authority.

It is hardly fair to compare the Torah’s and the Quran’s accounts of Moses and Aaron. The scale and significance is entirely different. Four whole books of the Torah’s five are devoted to the life, teachings, and ministry of Moses (and Aaron, but he’s secondary and mostly implied as a spokesperson), and it is all told as part of the epic founding of Israel as a nation favored by and bound to God. In Surah al-A’raaf, Moses serves mainly as an archetype with which to validate Muhammad. No biographical information or historical placement is necessary for this purpose. While Moses is still an important prophet –being one of the only four to receive a divine book– he bears the implicit shadow of failure. His ministry and teachings fell short of creating lasting change, necessitating the need for future prophets and ultimately the more perfect ministry of Muhammad.

Now, in some sense Christians have a similar attitude as Muslims concerning Moses’s ministry and the Torah books. We largely use them to prophesy our own religion, and struggle with whether and how to apply the substance of their teachings. Christians might reinterpret the meanings of Torah scriptures, but claim no prophetic right to retool the Jewish writings. Islam does claim such a right, however, and the Quran contradicts Torah accounts regularly. There is no known historical evidence for Moses, leaving no decisive way to argue the matter. In today’s post, I’m going to try and steer clear of pointing out contradictions between Surah al-A’raaf and Kitaab al-Kharouj (The Book of Exodus). The narrative importance traditionally ascribed to all the small details in Exodus are just too many to bog down this post with. Besides that, I need to brush up on my knowledge of Exodus and get my facts straight…

The best titles are those that can have many meanings and nuances. We favor titling things with puns, quotations, and metaphors in order to load as much meaning into as few words as possible. It’s like an efficient story-before-the-story that primes the reader for the coming material. Suwar don’t come with official titles, so the naming process has fallen to the popular choice of its readership, and thus they can get multiple titles. Surah 7 of the Quran is called in English, “The Heights.” Now, I really like this title. It comes most explicitly from a parable within the surah, but applies in some more symbolic ways. Much of this surah will feature people falling from the heights of their egos, potential, or ideal conditions. It also suggests a high vantage point from which one can see clearly the differences between good and evil. While this title is very good, I am going to give deference to the Arabic one, since its connotations will perhaps be spread across the broader Islamic culture.

In Arabic the surah is al-a’raaf. This word alone has many translations. Google translates a’raaf as “Customs, Traditions, Norms, Mores, Conventions, Habits, Rules,” amongst other definitions. Which one to choose? This is my deductive process:

• A’raaf (أعراف) is plural of ‘araf (عرف)
• The roots ع ر ف (‘-r-f) carry meanings of knowledge and awareness. ‘arafa as a verb means “he knew” and ‘arrafa means “he informed.” In the area of nouns, ma’rifa means “information, lore, knowledge.”
• Because this surah is heavier in lore than law, I settled on “traditions,” since that word includes meanings of transmitted knowledge as well as behaviors.

There aren’t actually any direct prescriptions for Muslim customs and behaviors in these 206 ayat, so one thing I’d say the title doesn’t refer to is Islamic ritual tradition. While the usual requirements of prayer, tithe, and theological orthodoxy are here, the terms of what such things should look like or how they are to be done aren’t described. Instead, the surah lays out lore and knowledge for Muslims to build their conventional knowledge and behaviors upon. Through this lore we also get the sense that human cultures always trend towards disobedience and arrogance. Sinful beliefs and behaviors are described as traditions passed through generations of people and societies. So a title like “The Traditions” can be taken to mean “The Conventional Knowledge of Islam” or also “The [Degenerative] Norms of Humankind.”

The Book of Job is, I think, very underrated in Christian estimation. It is written as a work of poetry, and as such it is difficult to read casually. For most of my life, I only knew of Job through the paraphrased versions taught in Sunday school, which only drew from the first and last chapters and skipped all the heavy stuff in the middle. Job, I was taught, is all about understanding suffering as a test of faith, and that those who pass such tests are rewarded. What those lessons did not teach was the middle section of Job, which is heavy poetry with questions about whether God is good and/or just. Now, Job is a whole book, and so the quickest option I can offer you for purposes of my blog is this video or these excellent SparkNotes, which paraphrase Job in a more complete fashion.

I mention the Book of Job because there were passages in Surah al-An’am that used very similar language to describe God. They cite things like astronomy, plants and terrain, the patterns of the weather, and other forces that mankind cannot control but is dependent upon as evidence with which to judge the character of God. While Job and al-An’am are written to serve different purposes and narratives, they do show similar understandings of God.

Surah al-An’am translates two ways: Chapter of the Cattle, Chapter of the Gifts. Considering the value of cattle, it is easy to see how an’am could evolve to communicate “gifts,” “assets,” or “boon.” Muslims would regard the messages in this surah as such things. However, “The Cattle” seems to be the more traditional way that the Muslim community reads it, ostensibly named after a discourse on some livestock practices of the pagans. Personally, I am reminded more of Al-Baqarah 171, in which ministering to unbelievers is likened to shouting at cattle and sheep. Much of the coming content will be about the pagan Arabs’ resistance to Muhammad’s messages, and the futility of his efforts on their behalf.

This is our first Meccan surah of any real size. Our only other Meccan surah was “The Introduction,” which was a seven-verse prayer. Al-An’am is a whopping 165 ayat, and tradition states that it was revealed all at once (whereas the previous big ones were put together from several sources or revealed gradually). A really good introduction to this surah and general Meccan revelations can be found here. I’d encourage you to read the opening section of that link, as it sets up the ways that scholars date each surah, and also Muhammad’s likely situation and state of mind as he was reciting this one in particular. Despite coming from a different time period than the Medinian suwar, the nature of today’s surah is very similar to prior material: denouncing those who do not agree with Muhammad and declaring their fate in Hell. The target people are polytheists (and general unbelievers), with only one tiny jab at the Jews. I think that the arguments leveled at the polytheists and atheists are a bit more revealing about the Muslim view of God. Some of the passages are very powerful and paint a picture of God that Christians, despite being in agreement with, are not used to contemplating.