Islamic calligraphy isn’t just a gorgeous style of art, but a symbol for how rich and diverse the Islamic world truly is

For all of the artistic forms the Islamic world has produced, calligraphy seems to be the most pre-eminent. It is entwined in the popular consciousness with Islam itself; mosques around the world proudly display the shahada and the bismillah, and these are featured – in calligraphic script – on the flags of many Muslim countries. Calligraphy has travelled across the Muslim world, transliterating many languages and morphing into many different schools of styles; it has even influenced Western styles of illustrated books and penmanship. This article does not focus on calligraphy entirely, but rather will show how the religious, historical, and cultural backgrounds of the different Islamic cultures informed the development of calligraphy – from the way the Qur’an and the Sunnah view art, to the history of the Arabic script and its transmission, to the way calligraphy travelled around the Middle East, and finally to how the actual production of calligraphy and the training of calligraphers influences its style.

Essentially, the ubiquity of calligraphy in the Islamic visual arts can be traced to the fundamental religious concepts of shirk – that it is forbidden to associate any other entity with Allah, thus risking tawhid, or the “oneness of God.” These other entities can be anything – from the “little gods” (ilah) of greed, capriciousness, and atheism, to the polytheistic deities displaced by Islam at its birth – but for the purposes of this essay, shirk is synonymous with idolatry. To humans, God cannot be comprehended with our own senses or mentality; it is only possible to see the results of His work on Earth and infer His qualities from that. Since God is fundamentally beyond the scope of the human, any attempt to reduce Him to a visual representation is heretical. Idols and icons of God detract from tawhid – that is, it places an intermediate entity between the worshipper and God – and “nothing must stand between man and the invisible presence of God” (Burckhardt, 1976 : p.34).

Within the Qur’an itself, there are many verses dealing with proscriptions in producing images of the divine – in particular, the story of Abraham destroying the idols in 20:52-7. As well as this, many hadith tell of the Prophet Muhammad’s disapproval of not only the makers of religious idols, but any visual depiction of animate beings like humans and animals. This again is to do with shirk – humans acting with arrogance and equating their creations with the creations and creatures of God.

Artists were encouraged to draw plants, landscapes, and abstract pictures instead. Historically, this prohibition against animate figures can explain the flowering of abstract design, calligraphy included, across the Islamic world; it also shows why mosques and other Islamic religious centres lack the anthropocentric art that is usual in their Christian counterparts (e.g., Jesus’ crucifixion, icons of the saints, etc.). Visual depictions of humans and animals do exist in the Muslim world on a smaller scale – murals and frescoes were painted in liberal enclaves like al-Andalus and ‘Abbasid Baghdad, and both Persia and Turkey have supported robust traditions of miniature painting and illustrated books since the 13^th century (Eastman, 1933 : p.22-3). However, the common theme underlying all these works is that they were usually small and for private viewing only; murals were not found outside the palace walls, and illustrated books and paintings were hobbies for nobles, and not for mass consumption. Calligraphy, with its abstract, non-representational style, and the general veneration of language and writing in Islamic culture, became the dominant art form within the Muslim world.

To adequately explain the first appearance of Islamic calligraphy, two distinct questions should be asked – what sort of script did the first Muslims write in, and where did it come from? And what is the history of the written, illustrated Qur’an that actually used calligraphy?

Answering the former question, Arabic script evolved from Nabatean, which in turn came from a script termed Proto-Sinaitic. Only a few examples of Proto-Sinaitic have been found, all dated to c.1900 BCE (Man, 2000 : p.189), but it is postulated that Proto-Sinaitic was one of the first alphabetical scripts developed (rather than ideographic or “symbolic” scripts, like Chinese). Since the actual spoken languages across the region all belonged (and for the most part still belong) to the Semitic language family, it was relatively easy for one script to be adapted to many languages; an archaic form of the Arabic script was known to the first Muslims, even if they were for the most part illiterate. The production of copies of the Qur’an was the first step to greater literacy in the Muslim community (the umma).

The first Qur’ans that still survive today were written in a thick, angular, straight style called Kufic, after the city of Kufa in modern day Iraq, a center for book production; most date to the 8^th or 9^th centuries. According to tradition, it was ‘Uthman’s successor, Ali, who first used and popularised this style over others (Schimmel, 1984 : p.3-4). Kufic was not cursive like modern Arabic script is; rather, five-sixths of letters were supposed to be straight against one-sixth of curved. This meant that the angular, thick lines of Kufic were very easy to chisel into metal or stone – the first Islamic coins and tombstones feature inscriptions written in Kufic (Schimmel, 1992 : p.4-7). A slanted subset of Kufic appeared around the same time, in copies of the Qur’an found in and traced back to the cities of Mecca and Medina. This style, called Ma’il, did not seem as popular as Kufic, but represented the first step towards the more recognisable cursive classical calligraphy. As Islam spread across the Middle East, different varieties of cursive script developed. This development was helped by the spread of sophisticated paper-making technology. Though paper had been known of and used since the start of the ‘Abbasid Caliphate in 751 (Coomaraswamy, 1929 : p.50), more durable vellum had been used to create Qur’ans up until the 10^th century. However, with the importation of high-quality Chinese paper, and the creation of royal paper mills in Baghdad, cursive styles began to appear in both the Qur’an and in official documents of the era; the first wholly paper book can be dated back to 870 (Schimmel, 1984 : p.16). The differences between each style of writing were studied and placed into groups: the “six cursive scripts” or al-aqlam al-sittah, as conflated by the master calligrapher and ‘Abbasid vizier, Ibn Muqla (885-940). These six groups were:

1. Nashk – everyday script; the precursor to the modern Arabic used worldwide. It is the most basic cursive hand; at first it was not used much to write Qur’ans or important state documents, but for everyday writing purposes. However, after the 15^th century, nashki underwent a “renaissance” and it appeared in many books across the Islamic world (Schimmel, 1970 : pl.IX).
2. Thuluth – “one-third” (named after the angle of the slant of its letters); the most common decorative script used in Islamic cultures. Ibn Muqla called it “the mother of the cursive scripts.” Thuluth is more extravagant than Nashki writing, with long, flowing lines and elegant curves, and it was often used in medieval times to decorate the veneers of buildings (Coomaraswamy, 1929 : 54).
3. Muhaqqaq – a script derived from thuluth and used by the Mamluk sultans of Egypt in the 13^th century, and Safavid Persia in the 15^th century; most of the sultan’s royal documents were written in this hand. It was considered to be drier than thuluth, with pointed letter endings and very high “tall” letters (Schimmel, 1992 : p.16).
4. Rihan – a less-extravagant version of muhaqqaq; it is distinguishable from thuluth by the pointed ends of its letters. After Ibn Muqla’s time, rihani writing fell out of favour and is not very well attested (Tabbaa, 1991 : p.122).
5. Tawqi’ – the official hand used by the ‘Abbasid caliphate under Yaqut al-Musta’simi, the successor of Ibn Muqla. The letters in tawqi’ are straighter than in other varieties, though it is still very much a decorative style, rather than an everyday one; it was mainly used to write out court documents and royal decrees (Schimmel, 1970 : p.7)
6. Riqa’ – a more informal, less “monumental” version of tawqi’, riqa’ is still used today as a secondary writing style. Like tawqi’, it flattens out elongated curves and high letters for ease of writing; it is known as the “copyist’s hand” (Shimmel, 1984 : p.23-4).

As well as these definitive styles that were used across the Islamic world, there existed regional variations that were used by specific cultures. The most well-known of these include:

1. Maghribi, which arose in North Africa sometime in the 14^th century, and owed more of its stylistic origins to Kufic than the cursive scripts; thick lines and tall, straight letters were emphasised (Schimmel, 1992 : p.32-3).
2. Ta’liq or “hanging,” that was used – from the time of its conquest – to write exclusively in the Persian language. It evolved into Nasta’liq in the 15^th century; Nasta’liq separated the letters far more than other styles did, and often wrote them on differing levels for artistic effect (Schimmel, 1992 : p.34-7). It was the preferred script for writing poems and for accompanying miniature paintings.
3. Diwani – the extremely elaborate calligraphy of the Ottoman Empire; it first appeared around the time of Suleiman in the 16^th century; Suleiman was apparently a master calligrapher himself. Diwani is extremely complex and difficult to learn – its rules were only taught to a select few, but exponents of the art could create images out of calligraphy (Coomaraswamy, 1929 : 58).

The basic method of production for all of these hands is essentially the same – the calligrapher uses a reed stylus/pen called a qalam, a supply of ink (hibr), and usually an inkpot as well (dawaat). The ink was collected from “lampblack”; that is, the remnants of oil found in burnt oil-lamps, though other methods existed, like burning tar or pitch (Schimmel, 1984 : p.40). At first, in the early days of Islam’s expansion, only black or brown ink was used; however, it is common to find manuscripts in which a later scribe has gone over their predecessors’ work with coloured inks, especially since not all the early Qur’ans used the same spelling. By the turn of the millennium, though, calligraphers could choose to write in many different dyes and inks, and color their books with such luxuries as lapis lazuli and gold leaf (Schimmel, 1970 : pl.XXII). The form of the calligraphy was also dictated by the material the words were written on; because only parchment was used to create the earliest books, cursive scripts would be too hard to write effectively on them.

The invention of paper directly led to the explosion of cursive styles. To prepare the paper for calligraphy, the artist had to first apply ahar, a conditioning mixture that consisted of rice powder, egg white, and starch, to make the paper smooth. Any further unevenness was smoothed out by a stone, traditionally an agate. Once the page was complete, sand was thrown over it, both to soak up the excess ink and as a blessing (Schimmel, 1984 : p.41-2).

The actual training of a professional calligrapher (khattat) was another matter entirely; though most Muslims of education knew how to write the basics of the nashki or riqa’ styles, the future khattat must seek the patronage of a master teacher (sheik). This idea of seeking guidance through a teacher comes directly from the influence of Sufism –  in fact, almost all master calligraphers were Sufis as well. Students had to train constantly, using a mashq (practice slate); on a given day, they would study only the permutations of one letter, though of course the style of training varied from teacher to teacher (Schimmel, 1984 : p.48). Most commonly the rules of form laid down by Ibn Muqla were the most studied. If the students were successful enough in their endeavors, the teacher would award them an ijaza (lit.,  “permission”), a certificate that showed that their sheik considered them adept enough to be a khattat. These ijaza were vital in showing the different lineages of styles across the Islamic world. One final, surprising feature of the calligraphers and their students was that so many of them were women – calligraphy was seen as a pious career for both sexes; many Ottoman princesses were considered master calligraphers in their own right (Schimmel, 1970 : 47).

In conclusion, Islamic calligraphy inherently shows the growth and development of Islam itself, through its aniconic styles of art, to the growth in usage of the Arabic script, and to the blossoming of distinct local variants of Islamic culture. Through all this, it is possible to trace the respect and awe Muslims held for writing, and calligraphy in particular, linking it with the heart of religion. An old Arabic saying puts it best by saying, “Purity of writing is the purity of the soul” (Schimmel, 1992 : p.1).

References

• Burckhardt, Titus (1976) Art of Islam: Language and Meaning, trans. French by Peter Hobson, London : Islamic Festival Trust.
• Al-Bukhari, Muhammad ibn Ismail (c.846) Sahih al-Bukhari, trans. Arabic by Muhammed Muhsin Khan, University of California (database) http://www.usc.edu/schools/college/crcc/engagement/resources/texts/muslim/hadith/bukhari/
• Eastman, Alvan C. (1933) Islamic Miniature Painting, Parnassus, vol.5 no.7, New York : College Art Association.
• Gruber, Christiane (2009) Representations of the Prophet Muhammad in Islamic painting, Muqarnas,  Necipoglu, Gulru & Leal, Karen (eds.), vol.26, Cambridge : Harvard University Press.
• Man, John (2000) Alphabeta, London : Random House.
• O’Connor, M. (1986) The Arabic Loanwords in Nabatean Aramaic, Journal of Near Eastern Studies, vol.45 no.3, Chicago : Chicago University Press.
• Denny, Frederick Mathewson (1989) Qur’an Recitation: A Tradition of Oral Performance and Transmission, Oral Tradition http://journal.oraltradition.org/files/articles/4i-ii/2_Denny.pdf
• Akram, A.I. (1970) The Sword of Allah: Khalid bin al-Waleed, His Life and Campaigns, Rawalpindi : National Publishing House (database)
• http://web.archive.org/web/20020224232028/http://www.swordofallah.com/html/bookhome.htm
• Schimmel, Annemarie (1984) Calligraphy and Islamic Culture, New York : New York University Press.
• Schimmel, Annemarie (1992) Islamic Calligraphy, London : Metropolitan Museum of Art.
• Coomaraswamy,Ananda (1929) Arabic and Turkish Calligraphy, Bulletin of the Museum of Fine Arts, vol.27 no.162, Boston : Museum of Fine Arts.
• Schimmel, Annemarie (1970) Islamic Calligraphy, Leiden : E.J. Brill.
• Tabbaa, Yasser (1991) The Transformation of Arabic Writing: Part I, Qur’anic Calligraphy, Ars Orientalis, vol.21, Michigan : Smithsonian Institution and Department of the History of Art.

Art, on its quest for refinement, is the expression of the ethos and values of society. It serves to remind us that life must be permeated with physical, spiritual and emotional beauty. The objects in these Met Galleries are the memoirs of civilization, yet they are not cast in the amber of the past. They pulse with life. They help us to understand how the cultures touched by Islam were built and evolved through the present day. A balanced display of objects of all types and techniques leads the visitor on a rich ride through the artistic, cultural and religious contexts of regional spheres stretching from Rabat to Ulan Bator, from Trabzon to Jakarta.

A paradise of artistic delight

Selecting these outstanding pieces must have been an emotional and challenging experience for the curators. How to choose only 1200 pieces from the Museum’s vast collections of 12,000 objects to tell the story of the interlinking themes across centuries and continents? The galleries explore the richness of Islamic art in objects big and small: from monumental bronze salvers of princely palaces to humble ceramic bowls, from stylish illuminated manuscripts to Qur’an pages filled with graceful calligraphy, from steel sabers to gardens of textile delights.

Some of the stunning artifacts on exhibit include miniatures from the most famous series of paintings in Islamic art, the celebrated 16th century Shahnama of Shah Tahmasp, ornamental doors from the 9th century royal residence at Samarra in Iraq, a monumental 12th century Seljuk feline incense burner from Iran, a 12th century astrolabe from Yemen, and carved stucco panels from a 10th century house in Nishapur, Iran. Turkish and Mamluk carpets are presented in a room under a newly-assembled wooden ceiling from a 15th century Spanish monastery crafted by Muslim artisans, offering visitors a constellation of stars above and below.

Architecture, one of the most visible and unifying manifestations of the Islamic heritage, has a place here as well. Peeking into the Damascus Room, an intact 18th century reception room from an upper-class Syrian Ottoman house, gives insight onto the daily life of the era. The 11-foot high turquoise tiled prayer niche from a 14th century theological school in Isfahan has been moved to a more prominent place in the galleries (and respectfully reset to its correct kibla orientation), which allows visitors to feel its architectural impact. One of the most popular attractions is the Moroccan Courtyard – a room built from scratch to resemble a 14th century home interior, with intricately carved niches and a bubbling fountain. This graceful gem was created by craftsmen from Fez brought in especially for the project.

Innovative objectives

A desire to rethink the presentation of the galleries prompted the museum to close them for renovation in 2003, two years after the events of 9/11. The curatorial staff set out to sensitively join the galaxy of cultures touched by Islam, and to make its appreciation more accessible by the general public through a judicious intermingling of art objects. The curators chose three major strategies to achieve this monumental task.

Firstly, the official name change from the former reductive “Islamic Galleries” was a bold one. The new name is indeed a mouthful, but it removes the stigma of Islam as opposed to the West and alien, as well as the stereotype of an art produced only in relationship to religion. It effectively dismantles the notion that Islamic art is a single, uniform production.

Secondly, intelligent architecture, using an open plan, created more square footage and brightened the former dim and mysterious rooms into a light and positive space. Lattice screens made in Egypt point the way and provide awareness of the mutual visibility of the cultures. The floors are paved in a different stone for each section, ranging from Egyptian marble inlaid with stars to soft Indian sandstone. Created as well are two new galleries, one linking Spain and North Africa, and the second for the South Asian sphere. The circular path though the galleries encourages visitors to make intuitive cultural interconnections as they rove.

Lastly, and most importantly, the curatorial approach is groundbreaking. The galleries are arranged not in a chronological order, but attempt a more geographical transverse. Particular attention is paid to display objects that emphasize the exchange of artistic influences with surrounding cultures. One gallery is devoted to depicting the imprint of the late Roman, Sassanid and Coptic traditions on the formation of this art. Objects from the Byzantine Empire, China, and Europe are skillfully sprinkled in the cases to highlight the interplay of cultures. Particularly intriguing is portrayal of the hybrid Buddhist-Jain-Hindu-Muslim-Colonial context of the Indian subcontinent. Effort was also paid to present objects which highlight secular and cosmopolitan aspects, not just those exclusively linked to liturgical needs.

In this fashion, the Met galleries help us break with the idea of art compartmentalized solely in reference to a single religious or cultural tradition. Our eyes are lifted towards a more universal vision. The voyage through trans-regional history presented in these Galleries opens new lines of conversation and leads us to contemplate the artistic and historical traditions of our own practices in relation to those of a different civilization.

A reinterpretation of misconceptions

Interpretation of Islamic art in the past by the Western world has often dismissively focused on the visual differences of this art: Islamic art “bans human representation,” Islamic artists “did not understand perspective” in their miniature painting, Islamic art is limited only to the “flat surface” and to the production of the “minor arts,” and “uses only geometry and calligraphy” to express the aesthetic, and so forth. The current presentation allows visitors to see the contrary, persuading them to make up their own mind about how these artists sought to depict the divine and mundane in ways different, yet just as powerful, as those in Western art: flowing calligraphy soars off Qur’an pages as high as the arches of Gothic cathedrals, glass mosque lamps sparkle with the intensity of a king’s gold treasure, colossal wall tiles shine forth with the same inspiration as stained glass windows, and carpets sing as brightly as a Cezanne or Klee painting.

The revised perspective of these galleries, filled with a respectful, reconciliatory motivation, allows visitors to appreciate the distinctive themes and the monumentality of this production, as well as the complexity and diversity of artistic expression. By providing objects illustrating the universal human aspiration towards beauty and refinement in society, we are led to reassess our present relations to these cultures accordingly.

Many examples here illustrate universal human aspirations and the interconnection of the peoples of the earth. Through excellence in craft, these objects poignantly illustrate the hope-filled quest of the honored verse of the Qur’an: “We created you nations and tribes that ye may know one another.” (49:13). The first piece visitors view upon entering the galleries is a large, 10th century white ceramic bowl from Nishapur in Iran, inscribed in a boldly powerful black calligraphy. It sets the tone for harmony, for the potter and the calligrapher needed to work closely hand in hand to produce such a masterpiece. On an Iznik plate from 16th century Ottoman Turkey, the artist has depicted 4 types of flowers – a rose, a hyacinth, a honeysuckle sprig and a tulip – all gracefully springing from the same clump of roots. A special grouping of manuscripts side by side explores the triple traditions of Judaism, Islam and Christianity that lived together harmoniously in medieval Spain. A folio illustrating the preparation of medicine from honey, copied in Baghdad 1224 from the Greek medical manuscript De Materia Medica by Discorides, illustrates the respectful heritage of scientific thought from one culture to the next. A judiciously-situated doorway pulls visitors out of the Egypt/Syria gallery into the room containing the Met’s 19th century “Orientalism” collection. These paintings depict the Middle East as seen through the eyes of European painters. Pausing to look at these colorful and often fanciful interpretations forces us to ask ourselves how we view these cultures today.

A Courtyard of Hope

The mainstream portrayal of Islam is not always kind, and does not usually deal with transcendent beauty, refined ornamentation, or intricate arabesques. Yet one of the most famous hadith, or sayings of the Prophet declares: “God is beautiful and He loves beauty.” Should it thus come as a surprise that this culture has led to the creation of so many great works of art? Perhaps the art at the new Met Galleries will close some chasms and conflicts that plague Muslim-West relations, especially over the last 10 years. Instead of blaring headlines on a newspaper article, perhaps scrutiny of the elegant calligraphy of a Qur’an page will offer grounds for reflection of the other face of the story and provide hope for well-needed harmony. The spiral of galleries ends in the serene Moroccan courtyard. Visitors are invited to linger there a moment and take home with them its restorative light and spirit of tranquility.

A new game

One of the most engaging pieces on display is a 12th century chess set from Iran, one of the earliest to come down to us. Crafted from glazed clay, the modern-looking pieces challenge us to a game. Yet, we cannot play because one piece is missing. Somewhere along the march of time, through earthquakes, Mongol invasions, wars and strife, one pawn has gone missing from this stunning set.

Looking at this chessboard, one cannot help but reflect on the still-charged game of misunderstandings which pits East and West on opposing sides. Does the loss of this representative of castles and conflicts auger a more peaceful society? Perhaps this missing foot soldier can presage the beginning of a new game, one where we are all on the same side of the chessboard; a game without confronting pieces and with reconciliation as the victor.

May the art in these Met Galleries inspire us to write the rules for this new Game of Peace.

Katharine Branning is the author of a series of essays on Turkey, “Yes I would love another glass of tea” and the curator of the exhibit “Song of Stones” dedicated to Seljuk art held at the Turkish Cultural Center in New York in the fall of 2011.

I think we all are aware that God has taken each of us-while we were wandering here and there-and made contact at a particular point with His holy grace and favor. This is an undeniable fact, and that we have existed under this blessing should be well comprehended. Throughout the past, certain groups of people have assumed services of education, charity, and relief with profound sincerity. Now, the task that falls on our shoulders is to proceed with carrying the flag inherited from them with the same good intentions. It may be useful to state the following points so that the favor pouring down upon us will not cease:

1. We have to persuade ourselves that we have had no role to claim within these services. It must be accepted that all takes place because of God’s holy grace, benediction and favor; due to this, we must not claim partnership with Him and commit a grave sin, and must stay away from the egotistical delusions perpetrated by our carnal self.

2. We should conceive that if we were not involved in these good works, it probably would be done by far better people, and much further distances would have been covered than those covered so far. And we should say, “God’s holy favor does not reflect the service as it comes from its fountain, instead it hits the evils of our egotism and corporeality and is fractured; because of this, our acts of service stay far behind the point they should have reached.” Long ago, our elders used to say, when someone comes to a devotee of truth: “So, my friend, how many souls have you killed?”that is, “How many people have been nipped by you and could not find the truth?” Today’s devotees, too, should bear this concern in their souls, so that God’s holy favor might not cease.

3. Our spiritual meekness and worship should multiply as much as our worldly activities and success, so that we do not become overwhelmed by our own egos. Imam Rabbani does not show himself even the deference of a dog; moreover, he even states that he doesn’t have the worth of a donkey. This consideration should be fastened to our souls, become our everyday state. The Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, used to say, during his day-and-night prayers with his forehead on the ground in repentance: “O! The All-Living! The Self-Subsisting! I beg for Your grace! Please do amend all my states, and do not leave me alone with my carnal self, for even as long as a blink!” We, too, must repeat this prayer often, and should strive to leave behind the brutality of our carnal selves.

4. We should attribute any sort of deficiency to ourselves, see our egos as an obstacle to service, and attribute every single success as a divine favor. Korah attributed the blessings bestowed upon him to himself and said, “All this has been given to me only by virtue of a certain knowledge that I have” (Qur’an 28:78). All kinds of Korahs and Pharaohs have said such things. In contrast, all saints and Prophets have said, “I can neither bring benefit to, nor avert harm from, even myself” (Qur’an 7:188). Thus, the thought “I have known/ I have done/ I have held/ I have constructed” is the arrogant thought of Pharaohs. The account of the Qur’an on this issue is crystal clear: “It is God Who has created you and all that you do” (37:96). So, what is our share in goodness? Only our inability and poverty. If we turn to His might through our helplessness, to His wealth through our neediness, we are further motivated with gratitude, and serve with enthusiasm, divine blessings will progress ever after.

5. The awareness and comprehension of the fact that all goodness and success come from God shall be exposed by our resolution and vigilance to talk of Him with others. But there are implicit forms of Pharisaism, as well. For instance, people sometimes say, “We have been blessed with this success; God has made us do this, for we are so unable,” with secret sanctimoniousness. Some people slyly talk of their own selves all the time, “We’ve read this and that with many friends, many intellectuals attend our programs.” But we are called to communicate about God Almighty, and must be ever so vigilant on this point. For example, children are greatly loved. When children are mentioned somewhere, we too would like to mention our own kids, and remain on the lookout for the opportunity. Likewise, people sometimes feel that way about the eloquence of their writing or speech. But these kinds of attitudes are surely indecent, perhaps even inconsiderate. We must speak of God at every single opportunity. When fidelity or loyalty among friends is mentioned somewhere, we should say, “is there a friend more loyal than God?” When rights are spoken of, we should say, “if there is someone Whose right has to be given, it is surely God Himself who has raised us from non-existence to existence, then not abandoned there and animated us; then not left alone and raised us up to humanity, then honored us with faith, moreover made us involved in good deeds.” That is, we should feel jealous if someone other than our Lord is given credit somewhere. When someone says something like, “I’ve given a speech, and people were exuberant and offered this and that,” we should feel uneasy enough to become ill, and writhe with pain, thinking, “Have a look at him; he is talking about himself instead of my Lord.”

Yes, if we wish to learn our state with God, we should look at the state of God with ourselves. How much interest do we have for Him, what kind of association do we have with Him? We should ceaselessly remember, and be always on the alert. As a matter of fact, if our contact with Him is firm, we will find a way toward Him, to communicate with others about Him. In consequence, we will see only Him, know only Him, think only about Him, move with Him, blink our eyes only for Him, and close all other considerations except Him.

6. Another major inducement for divine guidance and assistance is sincere cooperation and alliance. To reach this requires to conserve cooperation and alliance, and to avoid disunity and dissociation. If we are unified and together, we may be bestowed favors that exceed the human imagination, and we may become able to carry loads heavier than a mountain. In contrast, if our unions and alliances are destroyed, and we remain alone or with only a few friends, we will have detonated our essential force and caused the discontinuation of divine assistance. No matter how hard we try, it will not mean much, if we are without helpers. To this end, we must use all our resolution and effort to conserve the quality of being as strong as a building made of steel. Indeed, Qur’an decrees “God’s hand is over their hands” (48:10). I believe that the favors bestowed upon a congregation belong to a far-distant dimension, that even some of the holiest individuals, with the aptitude to guide all of humanity, may not be granted.

To be a human being is hard, but servitude is a still harder. The obligation of performing a great mission, in the end times of the world, is perhaps the most difficult one of all. And we have applied for the hardest duties. We have taken a difficulty upon ourselves by assuming the self and willpower that the mountains and heavens have abstained from. Therefore, we will enhance our sense of self and willpower in a transcendent way, by sheltering under God’s divine might and supremacy, in order to overcome those difficulties.