By
K. Balkhi
Despite
the root ilm (to know) appearing in the Quran over 750 times
in 13 variations, many of us, including me, have spent our lives not even
knowing its real definition.
We think knowledge
is ilm. We even think information can be ilm. I
thought my fancyradd-ul-abdiyah-based liberals arts education was ilm.
But the very essence of our secular education has been to defy and refute (radd)
the very existence of a higher being, placing the human “self” above all else–
persistently and methodically though not always overtly.
No
matter which “ism” we identify with— socialism, capitalism, feminism, etc.— its
values rule supreme over all else, including God and His
all-embracing guidance. We choose to live, study, earn, govern, and
protest according to a set of values crafted by a human mind. We forget that
living by the divine Shariah (Islamic guidelines and laws) in
pure submission and worship of Allah, abdiyyah, is the very purpose
of our creation.
Let
me illustrate: Anything akin to humility is unheard of in secular education.
Even in the privileged institutions I attended, we couldn’t imagine doing
anything in school or at work without ensuring maximum credit, visibility, and
compensation for it. Life was about building our resumés and portfolios. Our spiritual,
emotional, and other such intangible well-beings were at best fairly
irrelevant.
We
felt invincible, defying our immortality. The “just do it,” carpe diem attitude
made us discount consequences— not just in our own lives and the hereafter but
across generations and borders. Hiroshima? War on Terror? Genetically
mutated food? Killer whales dying in captivity bouncing balls for Sea
World’s profit and our bottomless need for entertainment?
.
. . Say, “Indeed, the guidance of Allah is the [only] guidance.” If you were to
follow their desires after what has come to you of knowledge, you would have
against Allah no protector or helper. [Quran, 2:120]
Uloom vs Funoon
It
was only two years ago, at a madrasa orientation, that I
learned we were referring tofunn (worldly skills, knowledge), as ilm all
along.
Funn literally
means “branch” and appears in the Quran once: Surah Rahman: 48. From my personal understanding,
that’s what worldly studies are: akin to a (tiny) subset of real knowledge. So
my life thus-far had been in the name of worldly funn.
Ilm,
however, brings us closer to Allah, towards understanding and practicing His
beautiful deen. Ilm helps us prioritize our thoughts and
actions in sync with a built-inakhirah-meter.
Call
to Action
The
least each of us can do is to ensure that we acquire enough Islamic knowledge
to live our lives within the Shariah’s parameters. Since not all of us can
become Ulema, we must consult with the Ulema ul Haq— the
just scholars— just as we would consult with the best physicians for our
physical health or engineers for our homes.
Right
Way ‘Round
Life
is of course not meant to be devoid of funn (bi-lingual pun
unintended). For allfunoon are just that: branches of
learning that also testify to the Khaaliq’s infinite beauty in all
creation.
Funn will
automatically fall into place once ilm is in place, making the
paradoxical reality of our lives all the more painful.
Acquired
with the spirit of serving Allah, after ilm, permissible funoon offer
rich paths to Allah’s radha, pleasure.
Who
remember Allah while standing or sitting or [lying] on their sides and give
thought to the creation of the heavens and the earth, [saying], “Our Lord, You
did not create this aimlessly… [Quran,
3:191]
Blast
from the Past: How it’s Done
Indeed
many an Aalim (religious scholar) was also highly accomplished
in worldly excellence. They range from philosophers and anthropologists
credited with the discipline’s foundation: Ibn e Batuta, Ibn Khaldun; to
innovating mathematicians: al-Khwarizmi, founder of algebra.
Many
of the Sahaba (ra) were scrupulous, successful businessmen, as
was the Tabii’ Imam Abu Hanifa (d. 150 AH), compiler-architect of the first
school of jurisprudence, named after him. Theirs was worldly work intended to
feed the eternal life, not an indulgent lifestyle.
In
recent times, Ustad Ahmad Lahori (d. 1060 AH), the chief architect of the Taj
Mahal and Jami Masjid Delhi graduated from Madrasa Mulla Abdus Salam,
Lahore. Ali Mardan Khan (d. 1067), builder of the fabled Shalamar Gardens
in Lahore was also a Madrasa graduate (Faazhil). As were Khairullah Khan
Dehlvi (d. 1161) who built the Observatory in Delhi and Ustad Rumi Khan
who built cannons for the Mughal King, Babar (d. 937).[1]
There
are countless more. The pre-colonial Madrasa system
incorporated science basics as well as Arabic, Qur’an, Hadith, jurisprudence,
astronomy, philosophy, tibb(medicine) and much more. Uncommon today
though, graduates went on to apprenticeships or learning crafts, enabling them
to lead successful earthly and eternal lives. All in an environment which
valued adab (manners, morals and practice) over book learning–
and certainly over the exam-centric pattern of today’s institutions.
Traditional
Islamic Learning: Then & Now
And
this is how I am taught to this day. The interdisciplinary richness I
experienced from the first year in madrasa makes my elite
liberal arts college’s specialized interdisciplinary classes seem disjointed,
devoid of depth.
This
system of learning is about an education that makes (wo)men of
substance. Students focus on ilmun nafiun wa amalus saaleh (beneficial
knowledge and good practice). We must walk our talk and thereby hope to be
active givers to society and our own akhirah.
It
emphasizes tarbiyyah (holistic personality and character
development) with most professors living lives simply and genuinely
personifying traits from the Sunnah, such as deep patience. Our spiritual needs
are nurtured, fulfilled. Secular universities, in contrast, deal with
consistent suicide rates from students whose lives are oft-devoid of meaningful
contentment.
Some
of my classmates and I have acquired extensive worldly education prior to
treading this blessed path too. Having learned them the wrong way ’round though
has come with significant baggage that we’ve had to unlearn.
They
said, “Exalted are You; we have no knowledge except what You have taught us.
Indeed, it is You who is the Knowing, the
Wise.” [Quran,
2:32]
About
the Author:
The
author is currently studying Islam in-depth at Pakistan’s leading Islamic
university for women. She has also been a business journalist and writer with
over 150 published pieces, including book chapters and strategic reports as
part of her former consultancy.