Following Artemis II, we go with another piece on the Moon. Amna Majid writes on one major secret of our satellite, that it has water! It has been confirmed in 2018 that there is frozen water in the Moon’s craters. What was thought impossible before, water on the moon theory was first proposed in 1961 by Kenneth Watson. Majid gives a brief panorama of the past research up until 2025, and projects a possible future where the Moon could be a permanent space station.  

Pope Francis and Fethullah Gülen. Mustafa Cenap Aydin gives a brief account of these two giant men of faith, one the leader of the Catholic world and the other a prominent Muslim scholar, whose lives and missions overlapped in many aspects. Born and died not so far apart from each other, both men have contributed to the promotion of peace, education, and community connections around the world. Through their examples, Aydin shows how one can remain deeply committed to one’s own faith while building genuine bridges with members of other traditions.  

This issue also brings one strong document from the depths of history that helped build a peaceful society from among warring tribes: The Medina Charter. Yetkin Yildirim et al explains how this Charter, considered by many as the first constitution in history, enabled the formation of a single entity from different faith groups and ethnicities, while recognizing their respective cultural and belief traits. The Charter’s message is reinforced by Aaron Y. Ryan who wrote about racism and how it reveals at the societal level in “Racism: Egoism of Societies.” Ryan quotes Nursi for whom racism is an external projection of an enlarged ego and that racist ideologies rise “just as latent diseases emerge when the body’s immune system is weakened.”

In “Anger Is Never Sudden,” Naim Yilmaz draws an analogy between anger and allergic reactions. When we are hit by a car and immediately become furious, there is in fact something that was already growing deep down. Yilmaz says that anger appears instantly, but it is built slowly. In his piece, he offers good advice on how to control anger and guard ourselves from such allergic reactions.

To understand the depth of their commitment to dialogue, we must first understand the zeitgeist of their formative years. Bergoglio came of age in an Argentina marked by deep social inequalities, while his family carried the memory of fleeing fascist Italy in 1929. He grew up in the working-class neighborhood of Flores, witnessing firsthand the struggles of the marginalized. Later, as a young Jesuit priest, Bergoglio would experience the dark years of Argentina’s military dictatorship and the Dirty War of 1976-1983, when thousands disappeared. This crucible of suffering and social injustice would forge his understanding of the church’s mission to the poor and his belief that faith must be lived in solidarity with those who suffer.

Gülen’s Turkey was equally formative, though different in its challenges. Born in the conservative, Sufi-influenced culture of eastern Anatolia, he grew up under the strict secularism of the Kemalist state, where even his mother’s teaching of the Qur’an in their village was technically illegal. The Turkey of his youth was caught between its Ottoman Islamic heritage and the aggressive modernization project that sought to erase religious influence from public life.

This tension between tradition and modernity, between faith and secular governance, became the backdrop against which Gülen would develop his vision of a renewed Islam capable of engaging constructively with the modern world. Working as a state-appointed imam from 1959 to 1981, he navigated these contradictions with remarkable creativity, ultimately enabling the formation of a movement that would establish hundreds of schools worldwide.

What stands out most profoundly in both men is how their unwavering commitment to their respective faiths became not a barrier to dialogue but its very foundation. For Bergoglio, his Jesuit formation and deep devotion to Christ grounded his openness to others. The more authentically Christian he became, the more he could recognize and honor the divine presence in other traditions. Similarly, Gülen’s profound immersion in Islamic spirituality, deeply influenced by Said Nursi’s writings, enabled him to reach across religious boundaries with confidence and humility. Both exemplified a crucial paradox of authentic dialogue: it is precisely those who are firmly rooted in their own tradition who can engage most generously with others. Their interfaith work was not about diluting their convictions but about living them fully.

Nostra Aetate

The Second Vatican Council’s Declaration Nostra Aetate, promulgated in 1965 when Bergoglio was a young Jesuit in formation, opened revolutionary new pathways for Catholic engagement with other religions. This document, which declared that the Church “rejects nothing that is true and holy” in other religions and called for dialogue and collaboration, provided the theological framework that would guide the future Pope Francis. The Council’s teaching that Muslims “adore the one God” and that the Church looks upon Muslims “with esteem” gave official sanction to what would become Bergoglio’s lifelong practice. He absorbed these teachings during his formative years as a seminarian and priest, and they became integral to his pastoral approach.

For Gülen, the decisive intellectual influence was his encounter with the writings of Said Nursi, the Kurdish Islamic scholar whose Risale-i Nur collection reimagined Islamic thought for the modern age. Nursi’s emphasis on the compatibility of faith and reason, his positive engagement with science, and his call for Muslims to contribute constructively to society rather than retreat into isolation provided Gülen with a theological foundation for dialogue. Through Nursi’s lens, Gülen came to understand that reaching out to people of other faiths was not a betrayal of Islam but an expression of its deepest values of mercy, compassion, and service.

Both men shared a profound connection with Pope John Paul II, though in different ways and to different degrees. Francis’s relationship with John Paul was intimate and transformative.

Appointed auxiliary bishop of Buenos Aires in 1992 and made a cardinal in 2001 by John Paul II, Bergoglio worked closely with the Polish pope and absorbed his vision of the Church as a protagonist in the modern world. John Paul’s example of fearless engagement with cultures, his numerous encounters with leaders of other faiths, and his understanding of the papacy as a ministry of dialogue shaped the future Pope Francis profoundly.

Gülen’s encounter with John Paul II was briefer but no less significant. His meeting with the Pope at the Vatican in February 1998 represented a milestone in Muslim-Catholic relations, coming at a time when such high-level encounters were still relatively rare. This meeting occurred in the spirit of Assisi—that groundbreaking gathering in October 1986 when John Paul II invited religious leaders from around the world to pray for peace. The Assisi gathering, though controversial in some quarters, became a defining moment in interreligious relations, establishing what became known as the “Spirit of Assisi.” It demonstrated that people of different faiths could come together, not to compromise their beliefs, but to witness together to the transcendent dimension of peace.

Both Francis and Gülen were uncompromising in their commitment to nonviolence and in their determination to deconstruct the false association between religion and terrorism. After the September 11 attacks, Gülen was among the first prominent Muslim voices to condemn the violence publicly and to insist that such acts violated the core teachings of Islam. Throughout his life, he emphasized that Islam’s name itself, derived from the root for peace, called Muslims to be peacemakers. Similarly, Francis consistently refused to accept any linkage between authentic religious faith and violence. He repeatedly stressed that using God’s name to justify violence is a form of blasphemy. Both men understood that the integrity of religious traditions depends on their capacity to promote peace and human dignity.

At the heart of both men’s understanding of dialogue lies a profoundly simple yet challenging principle: the centrality of love for every human person as beloved by God. For Francis, this is rooted in the Christian understanding of the imago Dei—every person bears the image of God and therefore deserves respect and love. He has spoken movingly about the need to see Christ in the face of the poor, the migrant, the suffering. For Gülen, the Qur’anic teaching that God loves humanity and has honored human beings with dignity shapes his approach to others. In his understanding, which draws deeply from Sufi spirituality, to love the created is to love the Creator. Both men insist that authentic religious commitment must express itself in love that crosses all boundaries.

Terrorism of “gossip”

One particularly striking parallel in their teachings concerns the corrosive effects of gossip and backbiting. Both Francis and Gülen have been remarkably forthright in condemning these practices, which they see as fundamentally incompatible with both faith and genuine dialogue. Francis has repeatedly warned against the “terrorism of gossip,” describing it as a form of murder because it kills the reputation and dignity of others. He has emphasized that gossip destroys community and makes authentic dialogue impossible. Gülen, drawing on Islamic teachings that compare backbiting to eating the flesh of one’s dead brother, has been equally forceful. He has taught that a community built on trust and mutual respect cannot survive where gossip flourishes. For both men, the prohibition against gossip is not merely a matter of good manners but a religious imperative rooted in respect for human dignity. Healthy dialogue requires an environment where people can trust one another, and gossip poisons that trust at its source.

The warmth of personal encounter

Throughout their lives, both men have welcomed people of different religions and cultures with genuine warmth and friendship. Francis’s papacy has been marked by countless such encounters—from his embrace of Muslim leaders to his meetings with Orthodox patriarchs, from his dialogues with Jewish communities to his outreach to people of no religious faith. His spontaneous gestures of affection and his evident delight in these encounters reveal that, for him, dialogue is not a diplomatic duty but a source of joy. Gülen, despite his later years in exile and declining health, maintained a similar practice of welcoming visitors from diverse backgrounds to his modest quarters in Pennsylvania. He met with Christian leaders, Jewish rabbis, and representatives of various traditions, always with the same message: that we are called to serve humanity together. Both men embodied the truth that genuine dialogue happens not merely in formal conferences but in the warmth of personal encounter.

The importance of prayer in their approach to dialogue and their lives cannot be overstated. A remarkable testament to their mutual respect came in April 2016, when Pope Francis wrote to Gülen asking for his prayers. Though the full text of this correspondence has not been publicly released, its very existence speaks volumes about the spiritual recognition between these two men. Both understood that prayer is not merely a private practice but the foundation of all authentic action for peace. Francis has consistently emphasized that without prayer, efforts for peace become merely political maneuvering. Gülen has taught that prayer transforms the heart and makes genuine service possible. Both have encouraged interfaith prayers—not syncretistic combinations that blur differences, but gatherings where people of different traditions pray according to their own beliefs for common aspirations.

Perhaps most significantly, both men have made education, particularly peace education, central to their vision of sustainable dialogue. Francis has spoken frequently about the need for an “education in fraternity” and has launched initiatives like the Global Compact on Education to promote educational approaches that serve peace and human dignity. His encyclicals, particularly Laudato Si’ and Fratelli Tutti, are essentially educational documents calling for a transformation of consciousness. Gülen’s legacy is perhaps most visible in the hundreds of schools established worldwide by participants in the Hizmet movement. These schools, which welcome students of all backgrounds, embody his conviction that quality education—combining academic excellence with moral formation—is the most effective pathway to peace. For both men, education is not merely about transmitting information but about forming persons capable of dialogue, committed to justice, and ready to serve the common good.

A convergent journey

As we reflect on the lives and legacies of these two extraordinary figures, we see not two separate paths but a convergent journey toward a more humane world. Though coming from different traditions and contexts, Pope Francis and Fethullah Gülen arrived at remarkably similar conclusions about what authentic religious commitment requires in our interconnected age.

Their lives testify that deep faith and generous openness to others are not contradictory but complementary. They show us that prayer and action, contemplation and service, fidelity to one’s tradition and respect for others’ traditions can and must go together.

Their witness challenges us to recognize that dialogue is not an optional extra for people of faith but an essential dimension of authentic religious life in our time. It reminds us that building peace requires not just political agreements but transformed hearts—and that such transformation happens through prayer, education, and the daily practice of love and respect across all human boundaries. In a world still torn by religious violence and mutual suspicion, the convergent witness of Pope Francis and Fethullah Gülen offers hope and a roadmap. They show us what becomes possible when religious leaders have the courage to reach across divides, the wisdom to ground their openness in deep faith, and the persistence to work for peace education that can sustain dialogue for generations to come.

With each suffocated breath, centuries of oppression were exhaled. Floyd’s death did not occur in isolation; it echoed the cries of countless others whose lives had been shattered by the slow, systemic violence of racism. His plea became a rallying cry, awakening a world that had grown numb to injustice. Streets filled with voices, fists raised not in hatred but in a desperate yearning for dignity and equality.

This was not merely the story of one man—it was the story of humanity’s ongoing struggle with a disease that infects not the body, but the soul: racism. A silent plague passed down through generations, cloaked in law, culture, and indifference. And yet, even as the breath was taken from one man, it stirred a moral conscience in millions. It reminded the world that to deny the humanity of one is to endanger the humanity of all.

Racism: a contagious disease

In recent years, racism and xenophobia have been on the rise across the globe, fueled by economic uncertainties, political populism, and social polarization. The increasing fear of the “other” has led to discriminatory policies and widespread societal divisions. Racism is a social construct that fosters discrimination and prejudice based on race or ethnicity. It is deeply rooted in history and manifests in various forms, including systemic discrimination, social exclusion, and outright violence. Racism and hate crimes have witnessed a troubling resurgence across the globe. In the United States, the FBI reported a record-high 11,862 hate crime incidents in 2023, with over 51.3% targeting Black or African American individuals, making race-based offenses the most prevalent. Similarly, in the United Kingdom, recorded racial hate crimes surpassed 100,000 for the first time in 2022, reaching 155,841 incidents—a 26% increase compared to the previous year.

On a global scale, the World Justice Project’s 2022 Rule of Law Index found that

three-quarters of countries have experienced an increase in discrimination since 2015, highlighting a worldwide decline in equal treatment and social cohesion. These statistics underscore that racism is not merely a personal bias but a deep-rooted social illness that continues to erode justice and unity in modern societies.

The causes of racism are multifaceted, stemming from ignorance, ethnocentrism, economic disparity, and political manipulation. Throughout history, societies have used race as a means of division, oppression, and superiority, leading to widespread social injustice. While racism continues to be a destructive force, various religious and moral doctrines, particularly Islam, offer a strong counter-narrative that emphasizes equality, brotherhood, and justice.

So you may know one another

Religious teachings, including those found in the Qur’an and the hadith (sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him), strongly condemn racism and promote the idea of universal human equality. One of the most profound Qur’anic verses addressing this issue is found in Surah al-Hujurat (49:13):

O humankind! Surely We have created you from a single (pair of) male and female, and made you into tribes and families so that you may know one another. Surely the most honorable of you in God’s sight is the one best in piety, righteousness, and reverence for God. Surely God is All-Knowing, All-Aware.  

This verse establishes that racial and ethnic differences are merely a means of identification, not a basis for superiority. True honor and distinction come from righteousness and moral integrity rather than race or lineage.

Another verse reinforcing the message of equality is found in Surah ar-Rum (30:22): “And of His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth and the diversity of your languages and colors. Indeed, those are signs for those of knowledge.”

This verse highlights that human diversity signifies God’s wisdom and creative power. It encourages people to embrace and appreciate differences rather than use them as a source of division and discrimination.

None has superiority over another

Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) consistently preached against racism and promoted unity among different ethnic groups. One of his most famous statements on this matter is from his final sermon:

“O people! Your Lord is one, and your father (Adam) is one. An Arab has no superiority over a non-Arab, nor does a non-Arab have any superiority over an Arab; a white has no superiority over a black, nor does a black have any superiority over a white; none has superiority over another except by piety and good action.” (Musnad Ahmad)

This hadith clearly states that racial and ethnic backgrounds do not determine a person’s worth; rather, character and righteousness are the true measures of superiority. Prophet Muhammad’s actions, peace be upon him, also reflected his teachings. One notable example is his appointment of Bilal ibn Rabah, a former African slave, as the first muezzin (caller to prayer) of Islam, demonstrating that one’s background does not impede one’s spiritual or social standing in the Muslim community.

Islamic scholars have long examined the detrimental effects of racism on societies. One such scholar, Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, likened racism to the venereal disease of syphilis, describing it as a silent but deadly force that weakens the moral and social fabric of society. According to Nursi, racism infiltrates communities stealthily, corroding unity and fostering division. He emphasized that nationalism, when positive, fosters solidarity and mutual support, but when corrupted, becomes a divisive force that undermines social harmony. He also warned that colonial powers deliberately manipulated racial and nationalist sentiments to weaken the unity of undeveloped nations, using racism as a tool for control and division.

Moreover, Nursi compared racism to an inflated ego, arguing that an exaggerated sense of racial superiority stems from an individual’s excessive self-importance. Racism, he explained, is an external projection of an enlarged ego—where individuals prioritize their racial identity over their fundamental human values. He noted that racist ideologies gain traction during times of social and political crises, just as latent diseases emerge when the body’s immune system is weakened.

A path toward eradication of racism

Racism remains a pervasive issue in modern society, perpetuating injustice, division, and hostility. However, our faith traditions, especially the Qur’an and the practice of the Prophet, provide a compelling framework for combating racial prejudice. The concept of human equality, as emphasized in the divine scriptures, negates racial superiority and calls for universal brotherhood based on faith, righteousness, and justice.

Bediuzzaman Said Nursi’s analogy of racism as a social disease offers profound insights into its insidious nature. Just as an untreated disease silently weakens the body, racism corrodes the social order, leading to hostility and fragmentation. To eradicate this moral ailment, societies must embrace the principles of justice, equality, and unity.

Beyond religious doctrine and philosophical reflections, real-world initiatives also play a crucial role in combating racism and fostering intercultural understanding. The Hizmet Movement, inspired by the teachings of Turkish scholar Fethullah Gülen, has long emphasized dialogue, education, and mutual respect among diverse communities. One of its most prominent initiatives, the Turkish Language Olympiads, brought together students from over 160 countries to celebrate linguistic and cultural diversity. Through poetry and song performances, participants transcended borders and stereotypes, highlighting the unifying power of shared humanity. In addition, the movement’s sustained interfaith and intercultural dialogue efforts have served as important platforms for breaking down prejudices and promoting peaceful coexistence. These initiatives exemplify how grassroots efforts, when rooted in sincerity and mutual respect, can effectively challenge racism and build bridges across differences.

Breaking the cycle of prejudice

History has repeatedly shown the destructive consequences of racism. Yet, humanity has the power to break this cycle through education, awareness, and moral commitment. Until societies actively implement the principles of justice and inclusivity, they will continue to suffer from the consequences of racial prejudice. By fostering a collective commitment to eradicating racism, we can ensure that future generations inherit a society where people, in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., are valued not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. The responsibility lies with all of us to challenge discrimination, promote understanding, and embrace the diversity that makes humanity strong.

Many verses in the Qur’an are cryptic. While being aware of theological tools helps understand the meaning, in many instances, scientific findings, too, prove to be of use to unpack the mysteries therein. One of those verses I find fascinating is al-Isra 17:44:

“The seven heavens, the earth, and all that is in them glorify Him. There is nothing that does not glorify Him with praise, but you do not understand their glorification. Truly, He is Most Forbearing, Most Forgiving.”

In classical commentary, the phrase “the seven heavens, the earth, and all that is in them” is generally understood as a reference to all beings, conscious or unconscious. It is explained that everything glorifies God in its own way, though the nature of this glorification cannot be directly grasped by human understanding.

To go deeper into the meaning of this verse, we will first review approaches found in classical exegetical sources as well as modern interpretations. In particular, we will briefly highlight the commentary of Bediüzzaman Said Nursi in his work Ayetü’l-Kübrâ, a fifty-page treatise devoted in part to this verse. After that, we will present a framework of interpretation shaped by modern scientific findings, suggesting an alternative reading of the verse that accounts for both its metaphysical and physical dimensions. The broader goal is to contribute to a new interpretive ground at the intersection of revelation-based knowledge and scientific observation, through the universal laws that govern existence.

Glorifying God

In classical sources, the concept of tasbih (glorification) in this verse is often explained as all beings’ turning toward divine order and the Creator, each in its own way. For example, al-Tabari sees tasbih as each being worshiping God in its own language. Fakhr al-Din al-Razi states that sometimes this happens through words and sometimes through the state of existence itself, and that it can only be grasped by those with intellect. Ibn Kathir considers the tasbih of all beings to be real, though imperceptible to human senses. Elmalılı Hamdi Yazır emphasizes that the order in the universe itself demonstrates a kind of tasbih.

A common point among these classical commentators is that tasbih occurs on two levels: through spoken expression (lisan al-qal) and through existential state (lisan al-hal). This dual approach applies both to conscious beings (such as humans) and unconscious beings (such as stones, air, or atoms). The verse highlights that this universal glorification operates on a level beyond human comprehension. Thus, tasbih is not limited to conscious acts of worship but can also be understood as the ongoing and all-encompassing order within the natural world.

From this perspective, the workings, regularities, and interrelations of all things—from subatomic particles to galaxies—can be seen as manifestations of divine laws, a kind of ontological tasbih. The cosmological view offered by the verse thus points to a profound overlap between the natural laws discovered by modern science and the metaphysical insights of classical thought.

Modern interpretations tend to explain tasbih as beings’ fulfilling their functions in line with their purpose of creation and their inherent nature (fitrah). In this sense, even if not a conscious act of worship, every being is seen as glorifying God through its orientation embedded in creation. Each being’s continuation of existence according to its own nature is also considered tasbih.

In this framework, tasbih is not limited to conscious expressions but includes the structural order, physical laws, and natural processes observed throughout the universe. Modern interpretations therefore understand tasbih as an ontological orientation: every being continues its existence in accordance with its own internal laws and physical limits. This shows that tasbih is not only a religious or metaphysical concept but also resonates with the idea of natural order observed by science.

In his treatise Ayetü’l-Kübrâ, Bediüzzaman Said Nursi discusses tasbih on both metaphysical and ontological levels. He likens the universe to a book and every being to a letter or sentence in that book, each directly remembering the Creator. For him, tasbih is not merely metaphorical but a true glorification that each being performs through its existential function. Nursi structures his metaphysical reflections through contemplation, grounding what is perceivable in rational thought.

He emphasizes that the continuity and order seen throughout the cosmos directly point to the Creator: “The entirety of the universe glorifies its Maker with true remembrance.” “The manifestations of divine power appear in everything, and each being declares: There is no god but He.” “With the motion of particles, a glorification, remembrance, and worship take place.” “Every creature has a task; its task is worship.” These statements highlight how all beings, from subatomic particles to the cosmic whole, operate within law, order, and functionality.

When compared with modern interpretations, Nursi’s approach shows some key differences. While modern exegetes often see tasbih as symbolic or systematic order—beings acting in line with their purpose of creation—Nursi considers it direct and real. For him, every being actively and consciously glorifies God. His approach integrates physical reality with a metaphysical perspective, presenting creation as not only “existent” but also “meaningful.” This resonates with both classical and modern interpretations while adding a contemplative dimension that speaks to modern seekers of meaning.

Nursi even describes the entire universe as a grand assembly of remembrance (common ground for everything but Allah): “The heavens, the earth, and all within them are like a great gathering of remembrance. Every atom praises God in its own language. Humans may not perceive this praise, but it is real.” This view emphasizes that the order of the universe is not only physical but also meaningful and holistic.

What do scientific findings say?

In continuing this discussion, our focus will shift to how this “common ground” can be conceptualized in light of modern scientific discoveries. That is, how the building blocks, laws, and principles uniting all beings in the universe can be understood through contemporary science.

The idea of glorification through words (tasbih by speech) is easily understood as conscious beings verbally exalting God. But how should glorification through state (tasbih by being) be understood? Both classical and modern interpretations agree that all beings and events are bound by divine laws governing their existence and functioning. This compulsory harmony and order can be seen as the creation glorifying its Creator. Still, this idea may seem abstract at first, so it requires explanation. In particular, we will explore what modern science offers for understanding tasbih by being.

Science gives us several fundamental elements that reveal a common ground uniting all of existence. Among these are shared building blocks (subatomic particles), universal physical laws, common origins, and systematic methods of observation and interpretation. Every being demonstrates, in its own context, that it is part of the larger whole through structural similarities and compliance with shared laws.

At the microscopic level, this unity is especially clear. All observable entities are made of atoms—small and discrete units. The atomic structure is universal: a nucleus of protons and neutrons, surrounded by a cloud of electrons. These fundamental particles themselves are composed of even more basic particles such as quarks and leptons. Thus, all material systems are built from the same components in varying combinations.

In addition to this shared structure, quantum numbers define the order within atoms, governing matter’s behavior at a universal level. The position and energy of electrons are described by four quantum numbers:

• n: the principal quantum number, indicating energy level,

• l: angular momentum, describing orbital shape,

• ml: orientation of the orbital in space,

• ms: electron spin.

By the Pauli exclusion principle, no two electrons in an atom can share the same four quantum numbers. This rule shows that universal order operates even at the subatomic level. Each particle has a unique position in this order.

Other principles, such as Hund’s rule (that electrons are first singly filled with the same spin before they are filled doubly) and the Aufbau principle (that electrons first fill subshells of the lowest available energy, then those of higher energy), further highlight this extraordinary order, leaving no room for randomness at the atomic level. Together, they point to a coherent, universal structure encompassing all matter. In Nursi’s words, this could be seen as a shared “mosque” for all creation.

Each particle’s individuality—defined by its unique quantum state—coexists with the universality of the shared laws. In religious terminology, this can be linked to Ahadiyyah (the unique individuality of each being) and Wahidiyya (the unity of all beings within one system). While a deeper discussion of these theological concepts is beyond the scope of this article, we note that even in physical reality, these dual dimensions of uniqueness and unity are observable.

One of the most striking scientific principles supporting this universal order is Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle. This principle points to a limit built into the very structure of nature: it is impossible to know both the exact position and momentum of a particle at the same time. This is not due to shortcomings in measurement tools but due to the nature of reality itself. It reveals an inherent “limit of knowledge” in the physical world.

As such, the principle is not only a physical rule but also an epistemological sign: it defines the boundaries of human knowledge about nature. In a metaphysical reading, it indirectly suggests an unbridgeable difference between Creator and creation. While natural laws provide knowledge, the limits of this knowledge reveal the boundaries of human existence and understanding.

Conclusion

In this study, we have attempted to interpret the concept of tasbih in Qur’an 17:44 through both classical and modern exegesis, alongside insights from contemporary science. The order observed in creation, from the quantum level to cosmic structures, manifests laws and harmony that align with the Qur’anic concept of glorification. This perspective allows us to reconsider the idea of tasbih by being in a scientific framework.

In short, the laws, order, and functionality observed in the universe can be seen as signs of beings’ connection to their Creator, a form of existential orientation. The author hopes that this article may serve as a modest attempt to show how scientific discoveries can contribute to a deeper understanding of a Qur’anic expression.

Some of the philosophers use the terms “effusion” and “manifestation” identically and mean “emanation” by both. That is, according to them—God forbid such an assertion!—existence has emanated from God, and what is meant by “effusion” or “manifestation” is that emanation.

Others among them rightly attribute effusion to the Divine Will and Decree, but place several intermediaries of creative effect between God’s initial origination of things and events and their coming into existence.

Still others restrict themselves to the external existence of things and events, and conclude that—God forbid such a conclusion!—the aforementioned Divine effusions occur naturally and necessarily. That is, according to them, God naturally and indispensably originates things and events. Thus, they ignore the absolute freedom of the Divine Will in doing or not doing something.

Others conceive of the Divine Being only as the First Cause, without personal existence, and claim that everything and event emanates from this Being in a certain order.

Still others attribute the initial effusion or, in their terminology, emanation, to an Intellect, which they call the First Intellect, and they talk about a trinity: (1) the Intellect itself, (2) the Intellect’s thought of an initial cause, (3) a second Intellect’s emanation from this thought.

Yet others think of many Intellects (the Ten Intellects), from the first one to the supposed spirits of realms or spheres of existence, and thereafter to the Active Intellect. They also insert a Soul among those Intellects.

All such assertions by philosophers imply a random guessing at the Unseen, and they are impossible to reconcile with the essence of the Religion. Furthermore, they are of no practical use for true or sound knowledge and faith, knowledge of God, or spiritual pleasures.

Even though some Muslim thinkers have, now and then, busied themselves with such matters, neither these philosophies nor similar trends of thought have made any contribution to Sufi life or experience, which is another way of expressing the Islamic life of the heart and spirit. More than that, they have muddied some simple minds, damaged the spirit of some principles of faith, and caused several trends of falsehood to emerge.

We also come across some Sufi guides who are reported to have written or talked about emanations from God and His self manifestation as a visible Being. I think that either such contorted ideas have been inserted into their works by others, or they themselves have approached the matter from a different viewpoint in relation to the Divine Oneness and Will and have lapsed into seeing such approaches as harmless. For neither the Qur’an nor the Sunna contain such considerations, nor did the scholars of the earliest times make any mention of them. For this reason, such philosophical approaches to creation can only represent some contaminated information that has found its way into our religious heritage from the legacies of earlier traditions.

As Bediuzzaman Said Nursi points out, the false doctrine of “only one entity emanates from one entity” lies in the essence of such trends of thought. They regard the All-Independent, absolutely Powerful Lord of the worlds to be in need of some powerless means or intermediaries, and present material or immaterial causes, which are in fact veils before the acts of His Lordship, as if His partners. To explain further, these approaches accept the existence of an Intellect besides God, an Intellect which emanated from Him, and they consider God to be inactive—God forbid such conceptions!—ascribing His dominion over all parts and dimensions of existence and all His acts to different means and causes. This is impossible for any believer in God to accept.

As the explanations of the Qur’an and the Sunna concerning creation are so clear as to cause no misunderstandings, so too are the views and conclusions of true Muslim thinkers and scholars regarding this matter so obvious that they make no way for such misconceptions. According to the Qur’anic way of thinking, or the Islamic viewpoint, whatever exists—with all its punctuation, letters, words, sentences, paragraphs, and parts—has been created by the All-Sublime Creator, and receives from Him whatever it needs to subsist; and all that exists is under the control, direction and disposal of His Will and Power at every second of its life, without excluding the partial, free will of conscious, responsible beings. The creation and direction of all the visible and invisible realms of existence belong to God, Who is the sole Source of all gifts and blessings that reach every existent thing and being. With the exception of some misunderstandings that arise from certain ambiguous expressions, all the explanations concerning this matter agree upon this cardinal truth. Sound minds have thought so, sound senses have received the same sensations, and the order, harmony, and instances of wisdom in existence have always expressed it.

Everyone who is able to observe carefully will feel and see that everything—from the multicolored faces of flowers, which send smiles to passers-by, to the swaying of trees in the manner of brides, from the frightening roars of thunderbolts to the delicate, penetrating songs of birds and insects echoing in our souls, from light, heat, gravity, electricity, and chemical processes to biological activities, from humans’ observable potential and abilities to their feelings and conscious, spiritual activities—all indicate and bear witness to the Existence of God and His absolute dominion over all things and events. Everyone will feel and see this truth and quiver in awe.

If humans can evaluate the sounds and scenes which come to their ears and touch their eyes by passing through the sensitive filters of the conscience—the sounds and scenes from the terrifying roars of the seas to the enchanting howls of the forests, from the contemplative silence of bays and coves to the awe-inspiring stature of mountains, from the flirtatious gestures of multicolored flowers to the loving kindness of birds and insects, from the world that is a book to study, an exhibition to watch, a palace to visit, and a field to sow and harvest, to humans, who are honored with abilities, to numerous subtle purposes for and instances of wisdom in the existence of all these things—then they will be able to feel and understand that all these have originated from the Sacred and Most Sacred Source of effusion through the Knowledge and Will of God, and go into raptures at the knowledge of the love of God and yearn for Him and for the spiritual pleasures that invade their spirits.

In short, whether spiritual or material, animate or inanimate, large or small, every existent thing or being has come into existence through an effusion from God and continues to exist through constant manifestations that originate in Him, thus pursuing a fixed goal. Coming into existence from non-existence depends on a certain effusion and manifestation, and taking care of everything or being that has been sent into existence is dependent upon another, different effusion and manifestation. Furthermore, the opening of ways to belief, knowledge of God, and love by means of the Prophets is the result of another gift of effusion—while it is yet another gift of effusion that the same truths brought by the Prophets are presented by saints, verifying, saintly scholars, and true guides to the level of comprehension of every age according to changing time and conditions. It is also another, particular effusive gift that all the means and possibilities down to the slightest ones are used to form a pool of mysteries and enable everyone to benefit from them.

The Creator has boundless gifts that come in effusion,

And in every effusion is a different manifestation.

Whatever we see is a mystery throughout,

Every mystery is clearer than the other for those who are aware of it.

Our Lord! Grant us mercy from Your Presence and arrange for us in our affairs what is right and good!  Our Lord! Grant us a way out and salvation in our affairs!  Bestow your blessings and peace on our master, Muhammad, and on his Family, and Companions, all of them!

To prove his point, Nursi states three possibilities to explain the existence of things in the universe:

1. Everything is created by causes

2. Everything is created on its own

3. Everything is an outcome of natural laws.

The common theme of these three possibilities is that creation is dependent on some natural rules and causes. Bediuzzaman refutes these possibilities by arguing that these rules and causes are not conscious; thus, they are not aware of other causes or the ultimate purpose. From this, Nursi concludes that natural causes are not true creators but veils—screens behind which the act of creation takes place, while we perceive only laws and outcomes on the surface. This article explores this argument by relating it to contemporary scientific and technological examples.

Mechanisms do not explain agency

One point of discussion in this debate is whether elements in nature operate randomly or follow a certain manual, so to speak. Modern molecular biology give us numerous examples to ponder over this point. For instance, T-cells, a type of immune cells, are able to distinguish whether a cell belongs to the host or not via their highly precise receptors [2]. Such a precise receptor cannot be adequately explained by randomness alone, without a system of built-in rules that guide and stabilize its formation. Similarly, B-cells, which are another type of immune cells, can produce highly accurate antibodies against pathogens in the body. To be able to produce these antibodies, they have gone through a process called hypermutation and selection in which many versions of antibodies with small changes are made and only the most effective ones are retained [3]. Such a process is not random; on the contrary it follows specific selection criteria. Neither B-cells, nor other components involved in B-cell mutation have intelligence or training to conduct these processes on their own. They appear to be following an instruction manual, which has been provided by an authority who knows every detail of these processes.

Some people have the tendency to underestimate such complexity as soon as the mechanism of these systems are demystified through scientific discoveries. Discovering the underlying mechanism of a complex biological process helps us understand the system but does not indicate that the mechanism has the power to conduct the action. In this article, I further discuss this perspective by leveraging the recent advances in Artificial Intelligence (AI) as analogies to clarify the distinction between mechanism and agency.

Why technology makes this easier to see

I use examples from AI and modern computing because they can turn abstract ideas into concrete pictures, even for children, who often find abstraction difficult. For instance, the idea of recording all of our deeds by a Creator is easier to grasp in a world where phones, sensors, and street cameras quietly record what happens around us. Being in multiple places at the same time is also easier to understand via technologies such as virtual reality.

Several examples from computer science and modern technology help us better understand the relationship between mechanisms, rules, and agency in creation—the difference between what executes and what intends. To develop software, we need a programmer—someone with intelligence, power, and intention to write and direct the code. A book cannot exist without a writer, and software cannot exist without a programmer. Similarly, in biology we observe many “books” of information, and information, by its very nature, points beyond itself to an author.

Generative AI makes this contrast especially vivid. With generative AI technologies and methods such as vibe coding, one can now produce working software code using a simple prompt. This shows that parts of writing code can be automated once the underlying structure and rules are already in place. In other words, machines can learn the mechanism of coding, which implies that producing complex software happens automatically. Yet the “autonomy” is borrowed: the AI system is executing mechanisms that someone else designed, trained, and powered. It depends entirely on human-designed architectures, pre-existing data, external energy, and meaningful prompts to function. AI can generate text or code, but it cannot decide why it should do so, nor can it sustain or direct its own existence. We can therefore compare generative AI to a keyboard or a pen—a powerful tool, but still a tool—which requires a “writer” to operate it. Today, the writer (i.e., the user) no longer needs to specify every detail; a short prompt can be sufficient.

Likewise, biological processes—despite their sophistication and apparent autonomy—do not possess agency. They operate according to rules but rules themselves do not create; they are enacted. Therefore, just as intelligent machines require a human creator, life itself points to a Creator beyond the mechanisms that sustain it. As the Qur’an states: “His command is only when He intends a thing that He says to it, ‘Be,’ and it is” (Surah Ya-Sin 36:82).

Randomness, direction, and purpose

Another common argument suggests that random changes, given enough time, can account for the complexity we observe in life. Time certainly amplifies processes—but time alone does not define direction or meaning. Random variation can generate differences, but without a standard for evaluation, there is no sense of progress.

An everyday analogy makes this clear: Randomly rearranging letters indefinitely will not produce a meaningful book unless there is already an understanding of language and meaning. In the same way, biological changes require more than chance—it requires a framework that distinguishes what works from what does not.

This can be illustrated through computer algorithms, too. An algorithm that undergoes random modifications cannot “improve” unless improvement is defined. In AI, this role is played by an optimization or reward function, which could be described as a built-in goal. Even self-learning systems such as AlphaGo require pre-defined goals and evaluation rules. Without knowing what to optimize for, learning would be impossible.

Likewise, natural processes that seem to develop or improve over time presuppose a standard by which “improvement” is measured. Yet these processes do not define their own goals or evaluation criteria. Order, harmony, beauty, and directed complexity therefore point not merely to rules, but to a conscious source that established those rules with intention.

Autonomy still requires sustenance

A further question naturally follows: even if creation has an origin, does it then run on its own? This is the classical debate between a continuously active Creator and a non-intervening God.

The clock analogy is often used to argue for non-intervention: once a clock is wound, it runs independently. Yet this analogy fails upon closer inspection. Even a clock requires continuous energy; without it, the system stops. The universe likewise depends on energy at every moment. Moreover, unlike a clock, natural systems are not fully deterministic. Flexibility, contingency, and openness to change are intrinsic features of reality.

From a technological perspective, even the most autonomous AI systems remain continuously dependent on external inputs. Agentic AI requires power to operate, retraining when conditions change, and intervention when goals or constraints are altered. Apparent autonomy does not remove dependence—it conceals it.

Similarly, natural laws are not independent actors but frameworks through which ongoing sustenance is expressed. Knowing how a system operates does not eliminate the need for the One who sustains its operation. Rather, the consistency of rules can be understood as a veil through which continuous divine power and will are manifested.

Rules as a veil, not a replacement

Seen in this light, natural laws can be understood not as rivals to divine action, but as expressions of consistency in how that action unfolds. Nature, then, is not the author of existence but the script through which existence is written. Rules describe patterns; they do not generate meaning. Mechanisms enable processes; they do not explain purpose.

By reflecting on both nature and technology, we are reminded of a simple but profound insight: understanding the workings of the universe does not diminish the question of its Creator. It deepens it.

References

1. Nursi, Said. Nature: Cause or Effect. NJ: Tughra Books. 2012.

2. Johannes Pettmann, Anna Huhn, Enas Abu Shah, Mikhail A Kutuzov, Daniel B Wilson, Michael L Dustin, Simon J Davis, P Anton van der Merwe, Omer Dushek (2021) The discriminatory power of the T cell receptor eLife 10:e67092.

3. Syeda, M.Z., Hong, T., Huang, C. et al. B cell memory: from generation to reactivation: a multipronged defense wall against pathogens. Cell Death Discov. 10, 117 (2024).

In the movies when somebody dies, assuming that they are a good person, they go to heaven, which is portrayed as somewhere beyond the clouds. Other movies show heaven as beautiful meadows with gorgeous flowers, trees, animals, and lakes. Depending on religious sources and a movie director’s imagination, we see glamorous, luminescent white scenes in heaven. Apart from what a perfect place it is, we have no idea where it might be. Even though we are told about the glamours of Heaven, neither Islamic nor Christian sources tell us much about the location of God’s magnificent creation.

Acknowledging in the first chapter of his The Letters volume that “Only God knows the unseen” (an-Naml 27:65) and “Knowledge is only with God” (al-Mulk 67:26), Said Nursi talks about two Hells, the smaller one and the bigger one. He suggests, some Prophetic traditions (Ajluni, Kashf al-Khafa 1:281; al-Hakim, al-Mustadrak 4:568) report the smaller Hell to be underground, underneath the earth’s crust at the center of the globe, known as the “core.” We know from geological findings that as we head toward the center of the Earth, the temperature increases immensely. It is known that the temperature near the Earth’s center is around 6000 degrees Celsius. Scientists believe that the core of the earth is as hot as the sun. Nursi argues that the Greater Hell to be underneath the Earth’s annual orbit around the Sun, a circle area around the sun, a place for the Great Gathering and Judgment Day. He thinks that when Doomsday comes, like a tiny seed turning into a huge tree, the smaller Hell will be transformed into the bigger one. That is, on Judgment Day, the Earth will cast all its inhabitants into its orbit around the Sun for resurrection. After the Judgment, those who will take their books in their right hands will go to Heaven somewhere above the Earth’s orbit and those who will take their books in their left hands will go to Hell somewhere under the orbit. While offering these ideas, Nursi properly reminds us that the other world is behind a veil of the unseen and it is impossible to see them with the eyes we have in this world.

Although Nursi mentions the place for Hell, he does not refer to a certain place for Heaven. He describes Hell and Heaven as two fruits on the tree of creation, which stretches into infinity. That is to say, they are the two results of the chain of the universe: “They are two pools receiving the flow of two streams, one carrying the wicked and foul while the other carries the good and pure. Paradise is the place where Divine Favor and Mercy manifest themselves, whereas Hell is the place where Divine Wrath and Awe are exhibited.” Both of them serve as an impetus to do good and refrain from bad. The following few verses from the Qur’an paint us a beautiful image of Heaven.

And give good tidings to those who believe and do righteous deeds that they will have gardens [in Paradise] beneath which rivers flow. Whenever they are provided with a provision of fruit there from, they will say, “This is what we were provided with before.” And it is given to them in likeness. And they will have therein purified spouses, and they will abide therein eternally. (al-Baqarah 2:25)

[Other] faces, that Day, will show pleasure. With their effort [they are] satisfied. In an elevated garden, wherein they will hear no unsuitable speech. Within it is a flowing spring. Within it are couches raised high and cups put in place and cushions lined up and carpets spread around. (al-Ghasiyah 88:8-16)

We can also mention a few hadiths telling us about the characteristics of Heaven.

“Abu Huraira reported The Messenger of God (may peace be upon him) as saying that: God the Exalted and Glorious, said: I have prepared for My pious servants which no eye has ever seen, and no ear has ever heard, and no human heart has ever perceived but it is testified by the Book of God. He then recited: ‘No soul knows what comfort has been concealed from them, as a reward for what they did’” (Muslim, Book 40, Number 6780).

“Abu Bakr b. Abdullah b. Qais reported on the authority of his father that the Messenger of God (may peace be upon him) said that in Paradise there would be for a believer a tent of a single hollowed pearl the breadth of which would be sixty miles. It would be meant for a believer and the believers would go around it and none would be able to see the others” (Muslim, Book 40, Number 6804).

“Abu Huraira reported the Messenger of God (may peace be upon him) as saying: Saihan (Oxus), Jaihan (Jaxartes), Euphrates and Nile are all among the rivers of Paradise” (Muslim, Book 40, Number 6807).

We know that God created everything with a purpose including all the stars we see in the sky when the night falls. They say we can see approximately 3,000 stars with the naked eye on a clear night. If we have access to a small telescope, the number of observable stars may increase to 100,000. Moreover, it is estimated there are about 100 billion stars (some estimates say even up to four times more than that) just in our galaxy, the Milky Way. Considering that there are an estimated 100 to 200 billion galaxies visible to us through telescopes like the Hubble Space Telescope and keeping in mind the vast number of stars in our own galaxy, the observable universe could contain over a billion trillion stars. Livio suggests that galaxies might exist in other unobservable and unknown universes, meaning the number of galaxies could be even greater.

We know from the Holy books that God created this world and all that is in it to show His own glory, power, and excellence. But what about the billions of stars in countless galaxies? Apart from their existence, we know nothing about them. We need eyes as big as the Sun to see what they are like. According to Said Nursi, countless stars we are unaware of host angels, jinn, and other spiritual beings invisible to the human eye. Just as fish of various colors and sizes swim in the oceans, vast constellations of stars journey through the universe. Surely, their purpose is to display His unique artistry and to inspire His creation to exalt and glorify Him, Al-Khaliq, the Creator. This is not so astounding when we consider that, according to Prophetic tradition, each raindrop descends from the sky with an angel.

Similar to Islam, Christian sources mention many properties of Heaven such that all things are new, there are no tears or pain, there is perfect peace, there are splendid buildings and vineyards, and fruitful gardens; unfortunately, they do not talk about its location. For example:

“And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying. There shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4)

“They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.” (Isaiah 65:21)

“The wilderness and the wasteland shall be glad for them, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose.” (Isaiah 35:1)

The Bible says, “When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have ordained” (Psalm 8:3). This verse may imply that Heaven might consist of the stars and galaxies. Another verse says that the future existence of mankind after resurrection will take place on the present Earth, which will be recreated and renewed to its ideal form(see Revelation 21:1-4; Isaiah 65:17-25; John 14:2, 3).

All this considered, I believe the vast collections of planets and stars in the universe may have another profound purpose—one not explicitly found in either Islamic or Christian teachings. Who knows? Perhaps God intends to turn these heavenly bodies into realms of Heaven for His obedient people and other spiritual beings. It is possible that, based on qualities like loyalty, obedience, righteousness, and goodness, individuals might be granted a heavenly domain proportionate in beauty and size. In other words, prophets and messengers may dwell in grander, more magnificent stars than those reserved for a typical believer, whose prayers and deeds were fewer. To illustrate, Islam’s prophet could be given UY Scuti—the largest known star, with a radius around 1,700 times greater than the sun—as his heavenly abode.

Everything is possible for God, “The Originator of the heavens and the earth. When He decrees a matter, He only says to it, ‘Be’, and it is” (al-Baqarah 2:117). He can easily transform stars into realms of Heaven for His faithful and righteous followers. Finally, the true location of Heaven is beyond our comprehension. While only God knows the true purpose behind the creation of stars, we, as people of faith, can strive to earn the greatest heavenly reward by engaging in prayer, charity, and good deeds. Surely, the existence of all these celestial bodies reflects His power, wisdom, and grace. Ultimately, Heaven may be anywhere, as the Almighty creates His places of manifestation wherever He wills.

References

• https://www.physicsoftheuniverse.com/how-many-stars-are-there.html#:~:text=Therefore%2C%20using%20a%20very%20rough,anywhere%20up%20to%201024.
• https://www.space.com/25303-how-many-galaxies-are-in-the-universe.html
• https://www.bibleinfo.com/en/questions/where-is-heaven
• https://www.space.com/41290-biggest-star.html

Come the day, I, again, through the parents, wanted to get Ayşe’s reaction to Gülen’s death. “Grandpa has passed away,” she “broke” or “shared” the sad news with me. There are lots of questions lying behind all this: What has been the real difference between Erdoğan, Gülen and their followers? If Erdoğan has all along scared his people and the world of “Gülenists,” could there be “Erdoğanists” for the Turks and the universe to be scared of as well? What does Gülen’s death mean on the ground to Turkey and the world? Who was this Gülen that the world should be moved about his death?

Now the African perspective.

Indigenous knowledge has it that “Enyama mbi tew’aluti ” – literally meaning “bad meat takes long to clear from the barbecue stick.” Why? Nobody rushes for it. Similarly, in the world of organized procedures, it is held: “It’s the exception that proves the rule.” Thus, in the practice of Mathematics: “Any number to power zero is equal to one, except zero itself.” In Chemistry, ions with the same charge repel. In music, non-rhyming sounds subject listeners to cacophony. A frontline rebellion in a battle is a war lost in the making. Examples are inexhaustible.

In Africa we also say: “Alikukumanya niwe akwita” – meaning “it is he who knows you who kills you.” In the biblical Paradise of Eden narrative, the target of the Snake must have been Adam. But to reach him, Eve was the most promising and appropriate tool. She knew him very well and he knew her well as well. When it came to a money trap module to betray Jesus, his disciple, Judas Iscariot, who was the treasurer, was the best choice. After being paid the fee, he assured them: “The one I kiss….”

In the most immediate Turkish history, circumstances crossed the paths of President-to-be Erdoğan and the Muslim cleric and scholar Fethullah Gülen on the promise of a more democratic country and freedoms based on universal standardsWhat could make them part ways unto the grave of one of them and even beyond? Why did Erdoğan go to the extent of demonizing the life ofGülen, when the whole world was mourning the death of a living saint rather than someone who had lived a “dishonorable life and like a demon in human form,” according to Erdoğan? Who was this Gülen that he should be at the base of the controversy in Turkey when humanity ceases to be a factor in the affairs of those in political power? Why should a political leader, and considered believer in one God, for that matter, be inhuman? He jails babies with their Gülen-linked mothers and conducts strip searches on the country’s daughters, mothers and grandmothers?

Here one has to go further, if not dig farther or both. A dip into the Turkish history reveals stories of scholars who stood firmly against oppression until Gülen appears on the stage. These noble individuals go beyond time, becoming travelers who foresee the future, much like Fethullah Gülen has. It’s as if Gülen stood on the watchtower of history, envisioning the future and leaving his notes. His vision heralded a renaissance after a period of darkness, testing both the loyalty of friends and the mercy of foes.

Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal, a disciple of Imam al-Shafi’i, contributed a lot to the expansion of the territories where Muslims ruled. He was tortured and imprisoned for over two years for rejecting the idea, imposed by Abbasid caliphs al-Ma’mun, al-Mu’tasim, and al-Wathiq, that the Quran was created. He continued to pursue knowledge even in prison. Imam Abu Hanifa was imprisoned and tortured for refusing an offer to be a judge for the Abbasid caliph al-Mansur. Relentless pressure notwithstanding, he never bowed to the caliphates of the Umayyads or Abbasids. He died from poisoning. Imam al-Ghazali was also subjected to pressure from the authorities, who ordered his books burned. For criticizing a ruler of the Kara-Khanid dynasty, Imam Sarakhsi was thrown into a well in Özkent, from where he dictated his famous work, al-Mabsut. Ibn Taymiyyah was persecuted for his views, repeatedly imprisoned, and died in captivity, completely dispossessed.

In modern times, Fethullah Gülen walked this same path. After the July 15th 2016 “cooked coup,” which he condemned and denied any connection, he declared: “If they were to pass a death sentence, I would go smiling to the noose, but I would never apologize to an oppressor, even if they killed me fifty times over.” This statement underscores his resolve in pursuing truth and justice. Gülen’s words reflect the breadth and depth of his vision for humanity. In his work The Messenger of Humanity, he wrote: “Humanity can only draw closer through love, tolerance, and dialogue.”

Gülen consistently advocated for dialogue between the Abrahamic faiths and once brought together leaders of major religions around the same table in Istanbul. He believed that “those who are confident in their beliefs respect others’ faiths. One’s own values are best understood by recognizing others’. Everyone’s faith belongs to them, and no one can impose their beliefs on others.” Gülen reminded us of the shared values of humanity, saying: “Differences among people exist not to divide us but to complete each other.” This perspective is more essential today than ever.

The schools inspired by Gülen’s vision across the world embodied his dream that “Knowledge should flow from Turkey to the world.” These institutions have fostered bonds between diverse cultures and planted seeds of peace and fraternity. His legacy is not just in his written works or founded institutions, but in the indelible mark he left on the conscience of humanity—a bright path for generations to follow.

To come to grips with Gülen’s life, one has to read Said Nursi (1877-1960) a lot. Typical of his life of sincerity, Said Nursi, who is also known as Bediüzzaman – the miracle of time – examined the political life of his day, critically subjecting it to his moral weights and measures standards, leaving the rest of the world countries to find their individual morals index slots. Said Nursi, as a child, was conceived in the womb of the Ottoman Empire to which he was consequently born and on whose milk he subsequently breastfed. Only a few years senior to the founder of the Republic of Turkey, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk (1881-1938), he went through an experience that must have had a bearing on his way of life as a great thinker, author and what I can dare call “genuine Muslim.”

He was around when his age mate Mustafa got the Kemal nickname – meaning “the perfect one.” He saw Kemal and his supporters establish a new Turkish government and capital at Ankara. He witnessed the national assembly abolishing the Ottoman sultanate and Greek forces being driven out, opening doors to the Republic of Turkey to come into formal existence. He bore witness to Kemal assuming the presidency and turning tables on everything, including traditional Islamic religious schools and courts. The president grew more reserved, solitary and remote, moved into the Sultan’s Palace in body and spirit, leading a luxurious life until his death.

To this, Africa indigenous knowledge has many observations. Among them: “You can make a monkey put on a golden ring but that can’t kill its habit of stealing maize from people’s farms. You can boil water to any temperature, but it will never forget its origins (coldness). You can expose an elephant to urban life, but you cannot prevent it from littering streets”.

Gülen never met Said Nursi. He only met his disciples. He understood his mission and took it upon himself to put it into practice. And, like him, he did not harbor political ambitions. Dr. Jon Pahl summarizes the situation rightly in his book on Gülen and the life of Hizmet when he says: “… to focus on events in Turkey in recent years, and Fethullah Gülen’s role as cause, effect, villain, hero, winner or loser would be to reduce the meaning and significance of his life to something like wax; ephemeral relations with a paltry kind of power…”

Said Nursi had all along said it categorically that the real enemies of the Turkish (in fact any) people are none other than ignorance, poverty and disunity. Gülen took it upon himself that the solution revolved on the axis of molding a cohesive and disciplined community through education, mass media and financial networks targeting the establishment of a new power balance of justice, love, respect and equality among people. For which, an environment had to be built whereby one has to see all others as God sees them with the eyes of mercy and compassion. People must be revived; not killed. Today, however, about a quarter of the Turkish people have come to a stage where they wish it were possible for them to live somewhere else rather than under the Erdoğan regime.

Said Nursi warned: “Moral laws are absolute. They are not relative. Effort spent on spicing our actions in the interest of our desires points in the wrong direction. This is why we substitute legal and illegal, right and wrong with attributes. And a State is created along these lines.” In the Seedbed of the Light, Fourth Treatise, Third Part of the Spark, he said: “Happiness and real pleasure lies in forsaking everything, including existence for His (God’s) sake. A drop of water has the same nature as an ocean (both are water) and a river (both are from clouds).

“Whatever is suffered for God is good. It is sweet even if apparently bitter, for it makes you taste the pleasure of supplicating and praying to Him. Every speech unconcerned with Him is idle talk.” Giving us a sort of cardinal self-observation point, he said: “Human beings are usually susceptible to shedding positive knowledge as they go down the learning lane. Instead, we pick and treasure meaningless and sometimes wrong convictions, which eventually lead us astray.”

This was with Gülen until his last breath, enabling him to leave behind a legacy not of material wealth but many shelves filled with the books he authored. His simple lifestyle demonstrates the transitory nature of worldly riches, elevating the significance of spiritual values and the blossoming hopes. I have read his works and works about him by others and reviewed some of them. Following his passing, Tushar Gandhi, the grandson of Mahatma Gandhi, could not have put it better when he expressed his sorrow on social media, saying, “Another voice of peace has fallen silent. A great loss for humanity.”

All said, Gülen was more than the son of Turkey. He belonged to the whole world. From the African perspective, Gülen was “mithili ya zawadi ya sauti ya Mungu iliyozimika” – the symbol of God’s voice gift which has suddenly gone silent.

Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, the great sage of the twentieth century, divides his life into three distinct phases: Old Said, New Said, and Third Said. In his 40s, Old Said undergoes a profound spiritual transformation while actively seeking solutions to the challenges faced by believers in society, thus becoming New Said. New Said, deeply influenced by the truths of faith, becomes primarily focused on matters of faith. In his final decade, Third Said dedicates himself to preparing for the journey beyond this life [1].

Bediuzzaman shares an imaginary event that played a pivotal role in his transformation into New Said. Although not a dream in the traditional sense, the images he witnessed in this dream-like state, or vision, held significant spiritual insights. However, he describes this experience as an “imaginary event” to avoid stirring jealousy in others.

Bediuzzaman states, “O world-adoring one charmed by the worldly life and ignorant of the meaning of your nature as the perfect pattern of creation!” [2].

Humanity’s failure to recognize that they are intricately woven with Divine Names, Attributes, and Qualities often leads them to become infatuated with the material world, essentially worshipping it. The absence of this sensation results in heedlessness. With the light of faith, individuals can recognize the presence of the Creator, Owner, and Lord of everything, including themselves. When they search, they discover what they are seeking.

He initiates the description of his transformation with the following words:

“I found myself a traveler going on a long journey. My lord who set me making this journey gradually gave me some of the sixty gold coins He had allotted to me. This went on for some time, and after a while I arrived at an inn that provided some entertainment. In one night I spent ten gold coins on gambling and entertainment, and in pursuit of fame. The next morning, I had no money left. Nor could I do trade and buy provisions I would need at my destination. All I had left was pain, sorrow, and regret left by sins and illicit pleasures. While I was in this wretched state, a man suddenly appeared and said to me: ‘You have lost all you had and deserve to be punished. Moreover, you will go on to your destination with no money’” [3].

The events narrated by Bediuzzaman are symbolic, reflecting his self-examination and the lessons learned from the imaginary sins he distanced himself from in real life.

Recognizing the squandering of one’s resources is painful, and facing bankruptcy is sorrowful. Being unprepared for the journey and failing to see oneself as a traveler are also distressing aspects of this realization.

The word “suddenly,” emphasized in the text, highlights the necessity of experiencing unexpected events to prompt awakening and change.

The Greek term “metanoia” signifies a shift in mindset or paradigm, a transformation of the heart, and a spiritual change into a new state [4]. During such a spiritual transformation, the methods used to shed light on one’s blind spots, refine one’s perception, and guide one’s reasoning heart frequently involve startling and bewildering changes or hardships.

Bediuzzaman continues, “‘But if you use your mind, the door of repentance is not closed. When you gradually receive the remaining fifteen gold coins, keep half in reserve and use it to buy what you will need at your destination.’ My soul did not agree, so the man said: ‘Save a third of them then.’ Still my soul balked. The man insisted: ‘Then a quarter.’ I saw that my soul could not abandon its addictions, so the man turned away indignantly and disappeared” [5].

Someone with sound judgment experiences remorse, recognizing their mistakes as a sign of wisdom. The greatest fault lies in not acknowledging one’s own faults. Failing to rectify mistakes when the opportunity arises only results in self-inflicted damage. The ego that indulges in its desires disregards well-intentioned advice and forfeits the chance for mercy.

With a sound heart, one can acknowledge their errors and learn from them. Those who refuse to learn from their mistakes are destined to repeat them. Understanding that the past cannot be changed does not negate the importance of regret; it signifies the humility of a healthy heart.

In Christopher Nolan’s film Inception, the protagonist, Cobb [6], grapples with painful memories of his wife and seeks to alter them. The song Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien by Édith Piaf, featured in the film, hints that Cobb cannot confront the truth, and returns home without sincere regret [7].

“At once, I found myself on a high-speed train travelling through a tunnel. I was alarmed, but there was no escape. To my surprise, I saw very attractive flowers and tasty-looking fruits alongside the track, hanging out from the sides of the tunnel. I foolishly tried to pick some of them. But all around them were thorns that, due to the train’s speed, tore at my hands and made them bleed. They cost me very much” [8].

Indulging in unlawful and transient pleasures while realizing their fleeting nature brings both pain and parting. What is consumed fails to satisfy, what is abandoned holds no value, and what extinguishes does not bring gratification. Encountering endings and separations wounds the heart.

Things perceived by the eye but difficult for the mind to comprehend are often tests. Wisdom, fortified by reason and experience, considers the consequences of choices and the fate of desires. It guides one towards making sensible decisions, avoiding risks where the potential loss outweighs any gain. A sound conscience gently whispers, “Is it worth it?”

“Suddenly an attendant came and said: ‘Give me five cents and I’ll give you as many flowers and fruits as you want. With your hands all cut up, you are losing a hundred instead of five cents. Besides, there is a punishment for picking them without permission’” [9].

The price of lawful pleasures is light and sufficient for enjoyment. Staying within limits brings contentment. True satisfaction arises from recognizing the blessings and the benevolence of The All-Generous. The All-Merciful satisfies our souls, The All-Wise our intellects, and The All-Compassionate our hearts.

“Depressed by this condition, I looked out the window to see when the tunnel would end. But there was no end in sight. The tunnel’s walls had many openings into which passengers were being thrown. Suddenly I caught sight of an opening just opposite me with a gravestone on either side. When I peered out, I made out my name, ‘Said,’ written in capital letters on a gravestone. I gave a cry of bewilderment and repentance” [10].

Life in this world resembles a tunnel, and humanity rides a speeding time train with a new carriage added each year. There is no escape, and the only exit leads to one’s own grave. Sometimes, the grave looms in the distance, while other times, it’s very close.

One who encounters the journey’s end without adequate preparation experiences profound sorrow and astonishment. “A cry of bewilderment and repentance” reflects the genuine shock of a person who has awakened.

Preparing for death stands as one of life’s most crucial objectives. Filmmaker Andrey Tarkovsky also underscores that art’s purpose is to ready individuals for death, unveiling the deepest recesses of their inner selves [11].

“Unexpectedly, I heard the voice of the man who had advised me at the inn, asking: ‘Have you come to your senses?’ I replied: ‘Yes, but I’ve been left powerless, and there is nothing I can do.’ He told me to repent and trust in God, to which I replied that I did” [12].

When faced with the consequences, reason regains its foothold. Individuals inevitably confront the severe repercussions of their desires and choices, at times testing the limits of their endurance. Even if the conscience has not transgressed beyond redemption, there is still hope.

Helplessness invokes Divine mercy. The advisor, the person who provides guidance with wisdom, compassion, and sincerity for the individual’s well-being, may not reappear but calls from a distance. Offering a second chance, he proposes two actions in two words: repentance and trust. The fortunate interlocutor, making a wise choice and sparing himself the murmurs of his ego, declares, “I did,” meaning both actions. Death becomes the catalyst for awakening.

“Then I woke up and I found myself transformed into the New Said; the Old Said had gone away” [13].

Repentance from the depths of the heart cleanses one’s past, while trust purifies one’s future. The mind, with its ability to traverse time, often preoccupies individuals with past regrets and future anxieties, disconnecting them from the present moment. A person with sound judgment, realizing the extended journey and the opportunity at hand, embraces repentance and trust, concentrating on the central point that intersects with eternity and conceals profound secrets, constantly renewing themselves. One who glimpses the journey’s end is no longer the same as before.

Knowledge alone cannot renew a person; true transformation requires confronting reality. Just as angels thrive on light, knowledge finds its manifestation in actions as meanings are assimilated. Satisfying one’s soul requires grasping the significance of life’s experiences, not merely the words themselves.

Viewing oneself as a traveler fosters awareness and preparation. Our journey, originating in the Realm of Spirits and continuing through the mother’s womb, persists in this world. It encompasses childhood, youth, old age, the transition from the confines of the body to the Intermediate Realm, and the return to a new body through resurrection. The journey toward a life where death is conquered endures, marked by the relinquishment of everything, including life itself. When the time comes, individuals realize that what must be returned is an entrusted gift.

Now is the time to invest in “moments” without sudden departures. As Bediuzzaman expresses, “A guest has to consider the journey” [14].

Notes

1. Bediüzzaman Said Nursî, Sözler, İstanbul: Şahdamar Yayınları, 2010, s. 346; Bediüzzaman Said Nursî, Şuâlar, İstanbul: Şahdamar Yayınları, 2010, s. 518.
2. Bediüzzaman Said Nursi, The Words, New Jersey: The Light, 2013, p. 341.
3. Ibid.
4. Peter M. Senge, The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of the Learning Organization, New York: Currency Doubleday, 1990, p. 13.
5. Nursi, Ibid, p. 341.
6. “Cobb” phonetically resembles words in languages like Sanskrit, Hindi, and Urdu that mean “sleep.” For instance, the Persian word “hab” means sleep.
7. Jason T. Eberl ve George A. Dunn (ed.), The Philosophy of Christopher Nolan, London: Lexington Books, 2017, p. 134.
8. Nursi, Ibid, p. 342.
9. Ibid.
10. Ibid.
11. Andrey Tarkovski, Mühürlenmiş Zaman, Ter. Füsun Ant, İstanbul: Agora Kitaplığı, 2008, p. 32.
12. Nursi, Ibid, p. 342.
13. Ibid.
14. Bediüzzaman Said Nursi, The Gleams, New Jersey: Tughra Books, 2013, p. 331.

“Ideology is the marriage of the truth with the apocryphal whereas wisdom is the distinction of the former from the others,” (1) says Cemil Meriç, a prominent Turkish intellectual figure, philosopher, and influencer of twentieth century Turkey. Wisdom is the property of West and East together; it’s the private garden of all humanity, a shared ocean of advancement for the sons and daughters of Adam. The profound knowledge leading to wisdom is a bowl which is uniting rather than segregating, a line drawn to encompass, not to dissect. A short glimpse across the flipped pages of history is enough to come across a handful of people who lived as light-houses, illuminating the way to wisdom, despite using various languages and separate tools.

The tradition of storytelling

Stories are as old as humanity. They are vessels across the ocean of wisdom. Storytelling was used by Buddha in his Jatakas, Rumi in the Masnawi, Bidpai in Kalilah and Dimnah. Many children of the West prefer to embrace novels. (2) On the other hand, old wise masters of the East used allegories and parables. They preferred to describe an elephant as a water spout (trunk) (3), a fan (ear) (4), a pillar (leg) (5), or a throne (back) (6). They knew understanding an elephant’s entire being would be beyond the limits of comprehension for a majority of people. Whence Prophet Muhammad had been asked about the content of the scrolls sent down to Abraham, peace be upon both, he replied, “It was full of parables” (7).

Bidpai (from Sanskrit Vidya-pati, meaning chief scholar) was a wise man of India. He lived in the 3^rd century BC,[i] and he decided to correct the oppression and wrongdoings of a young Indian Emperor of his time, Dabshalim by teaching him wisdom he collected from the ancient times (8). Though the main sources of the stories are not known to us, they were still being told a millennium later. In 570 AD, the ruler of Persia, Khosroes Noushirawan, after having received the information of that book, sent Barzouyeh, court physician, on a mission to India to translate the book into Persian (more precisely into Pahlavi, i.e. Middle Persian). These stories were translated into Arabic two centuries later, and into Hebrew from Arabic – and possibly from its Sanskrit originals (9). And this lineage of translations gave fruit to more than two hundred versions of the book in about fifty different languages.

Said Nursi

Said Nursi is another man of wisdom, one of recent history. Being born into life in an Eastern Anatolian village in 1877, until he passed in 1960, he lived through the collapse of an empire and the rebuilding of a country as a republic. He experienced the reigns of constitutional monarchy, oppression, military coups, and democracy. He dedicated his life to the survival of religious and ethical connections, in contrast to many of his contemporaries. During the last half of his life, he focused on extolling the virtues of education and belief to the extent that he did not bother at all about the developments of the World War II, which was basically destroying the world.

Nursi diagnosed society’s problems as falling under three categories: ignorance, poverty and dissension. His Risale-i Nur (the Collection of Epistles of Light) was a cure to these ills. He authored this collection of several thousand pages under the harsh conditions of captivity, exile, imprisonment, and surveillance.

Before writing his Risale, Said Nursi preached his wisdom to the villagers living around him, in the desolate places of Anatolia. He used the same method as Bidpai, i.e. via parables and allegories. Skimming through his primary epistles in “the Short Words” is sufficient enough to catch a glimpse of the profound wisdom woven through his stories.

I want to focus on one of Said Nursi’s parables. It is from the first treatise of the collection, “Nur’un İlk Kapısı” (the First Gate of the Light). The second lesson is reiterated in his masterpiece as “Mesnevi-i Nuriye” (the Seedbed of Light), and later in “Eighth Word” in a slightly different and more detailed form. It is the story of a desert-dweller jumping into a well when threatened by a lion (10).

The story

A person (actually Nursi talks about two brothers in order to compare positive and negative responses to the mystery of the universe) finds himself in a desolate wilderness. He suddenly hears a terrifying sound and sees that a great lion is about to attack him. While he is fleeing, he comes across a waterless well sixty yards deep, and in his fear jumps into it. After falling halfway down the well, his hands meet a tree growing out of the wall. He clings to it. He soon sees two animals gnawing through the tree’s two roots. Then he looks up and sees the lion waiting, and when he looks down with frustration he sees a dragon, its mouth as big as the mouth of the well. Then he looks back at the tree and notices with surprise that even though it is a fig-tree, it is bearing the fruits of thousands of trees, including some looking fancy and delicious but ultimately intoxicating and poisonous.

The responses of the two brothers bifurcates in Nursi’s narration. The good brother, whose good morals give him good thoughts, and good thoughts showing him the good side of everything, goes ahead with the realization of these strange happenings being connected to someone. He concludes that behind everything are the commands of a hidden ruler, who is watching him and testing him. His fear turns into wonder, and that wonder gives the fruit of love towards that hidden hand, leading him to cry out: “O ruler of this place! I have happened upon you and I take refuge with you. I am your servant and I want to please you. I am searching for you.” After he makes this supplication, the walls of the well suddenly part, and a door opens onto a wonderful, pleasant, quiet garden. Indeed, the dragon’s mouth transforms into the door, and both it and the lion take on the forms of two servants, inviting him to enter. The lion even becomes a docile horse for him to ride.

Wisdom of the story

Even while listening to the story for the first time, one can match most of the allegorical details mentioned in the story with real life counterparts. A short reference is provided as Table 1.

Table 1. Correspondence between the metaphors used in the parable and the truths behind them.

Beyond these, it’s astonishing to realize how perfectly the story simplifies the very essential concerns of each concious individual, such as the purpose of this life, reaching the Creator beyond the veil of creation, the reality of death, the compliance of destiny with the responsibility of actions, and so forth. The story also sets forth answers to the three basic questions asked by all humanity:

“Where are you coming from?”

“What is your destination?”

“What is your task in this world?” (11, 12)

Search for the source of wisdom

The First Station

The clever son of Russian Tsardom, Leo Tolstoy, welcomed me with his deep contemplations on life, death, and religion in the preface of his book, A Confession. Tolstoy was mentioning the “story of wisdom,” but from the perspective of bad-mannered brother:

There is an Eastern fable, told long ago, of a traveler overtaken on a plain by an enraged beast. Escaping from the beast he gets into a dry well, but sees at the bottom of the well a dragon that has opened its jaws to swallow him. And the unfortunate man, not daring to climb out lest he should be destroyed by the enraged beast, and not daring to leap to the bottom of the well lest he should be eaten by the dragon, seizes a twig growing in a crack in the well and clings to it. His hands are growing weaker and he feels he will soon have to resign himself to the destruction that awaits him above or below, but still he clings on. Then he sees that two mice, a black one and a white one, go regularly round and round the stem of the twig to which he is clinging and gnaw at it. And soon the twig itself will snap and he will fall into the dragon’s jaws. The traveler sees this and knows that he will inevitably perish; but while still hanging he looks around, sees some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig, reaches them with his tongue and licks them (13).

Before journeying towards the next station, the following is how Tolstoy transcribes the story into his case:

So I too clung to the twig of life, knowing that the dragon of death was inevitably awaiting me, ready to tear me to pieces; and I could not understand why I had fallen into such torment. I tried to lick the honey which formerly consoled me, but the honey no longer gave me pleasure, and the white and black mice of day and night gnawed at the branch by which I hung. I saw the dragon clearly and the honey no longer tasted sweet. I only saw the inescapable dragon and the mice, and I could not tear my gaze from them. And this is not a fable but the real unanswerable truth intelligible to all.

While following Tolstoy within his profound yet gloomy commentary on the standing of human “self,” Nursi’s voice has shaken my mind again, answering the stated, unanswerable truth, as follows:

Death is not terrifying as it appears to be superficially… for believers, death is to be discharged from the burdensome duties of life. And for them it is a rest from worship, which is the instruction and training in the arena of trial of this world. It is also a means of their rejoining friends and relatives, ninety-nine out of a hundred of whom have already departed for the next world. And it is a means of entering their true homeland and eternal abodes of happiness. It is also an invitation to the gardens of Paradise from the dungeon of this world. And it is the time to receive their wage from the munificence of the Most Compassionate Creator in return for service rendered to Him… Yes, for the people of belief, death is the door to Divine mercy, while for the people of misguidance, it is the pit of everlasting darkness (14).

The Second Station

While skimming through Arabic translation of the book by Abdullah ibn Muqaffa from Barzouyeh’s original Persian, I came across Barzouyeh’s own version of the “story of wisdom.” His version, which was written thirteen centuries before, was just parallel to Tolstoy’s. It was an allegory of his own search for truth, with the details only slightly altered:

…I therefore compared the human race to a man who, flying from a furious elephant, goes down into a well. He suspends himself from two branches which are at the brim of it whilst his feet rest upon something projecting out of its sides, which prove to be the heads of four serpents appearing out of their holes. At the bottom, he discovers a dragon… (15)

After underlining small yet clear differences between Barzouyeh’s version and Tolstoy’s – including the introduction of four serpents and a furious elephant – we can leave the second station.

The Third Station

After being translated into Greek in the 11^th century and into Latin in the 13^th by a Christian, John of Capua, the book appeared in Europe in several languages close to the end of 15^th century, right after the invention of printing. The rendering of John of Capua’s Latin manuscript into Italian by Anton-Francesco Doni fostered the first English translation of the book by Sir Thomas North, in 1568. The title of North’s translation was, Fables of Bidpai: The Morall Philosophie of Doni (16).

Swung back to 16^th century from ibn Muqaffa’s Arabic text, 750 AD, a surprise was waiting for me at the third station. While skimming through North’s English translation, I came across the “story of wisdom” in the middle of the book – except this one was apparently not in the Arabic manuscript, save Barzouyeh’s preface, as already mentioned above.

Jane Stevenson writes in her piece in the University of Toronto Quarterly on the manuscript’s translation adventure, that Doni’s Italian version – compiled of forty-one tales, thirty-four of which are from the Persian manuscript – as a rehashed version. These thirty-four stories are also shared between Bidpai’s narrations and Barzouyeh’s (17).

Most probably, the courtesy of our “story of wisdom” is given to Barzouyeh due to the preface text appearing in the Arabic version. Yet interestingly, “the story of wisdom” in North’s English translation appears more similar to Tolstoy and Nursi’s narrations, as it mentions neither a furious elephant nor four serpents. It most resembles Nursi’s story, where the traveler comes into a large plain after passing through thick and large woods. Differently in North’s version, there are four lions attacking rather than a single one.

The following quote from Thomas North’s lesson is significant to exhibit how the core of the “death – lion allegory” is lost through the influence of his contemporary culture: “The foure Lions the foure elements, which feeke ftill to deuour man” (18). This also gives us a hint about the case of Barzouyeh’s addition of four serpents. Barzouyeh was saying, “…the four serpents are the four humors in the human body which being disturbed in their mutual action become many deadly poisons…” Medieval medicine believed four faculties in the human body caused illnesses in their mutual discord. Noticeably, both of these allegories, missing in Nursi’s text, have been proven wrong/mythical via modern knowledge of science and medicine.

Comparison of differences

The only demanding explanation of the significant differences between Barzouyeh’s story and the Medieval European translations would be thinking of a second Hebrew manuscript which parented John of Capua’s Latin manuscript. Otherwise assuming the Latin version being translated from Joel’s 12^th century Hebrew narration of ibn Muqaffa text, would leave the source of the differences in the “story of wisdom” in dark. That second version of 8^th century AD text, in Hebrew, was likely compiled under an Abbasid Caliph, as argued by some scholars, and should have been directly translated from Sanskrit originals.

Turkish newspaper columnist and author, Abdullah Aymaz, in a conversation with a Buddhist scholar, Venerable Bup-Hyun,[ii] throws light onto the issue:

… I narrated him the story told by Said Nursi in the Eighth Word and later asked: ‘Does that story exist in your religious texts?’ He replied, ‘Yes it does, but instead of a lion we have an elephant and also the dragon has four heads. We too have black and white mice and in place of fruits we have a poisonous honey. You can also find it in Jatakas, told by Buddha (19).

If we come to the last main difference between the four versions of the story, the existence of honey inside the well, we see that both Barzouyeh and North are talking about a beehive whereas Tolstoy is mentioning some drops of honey on the leaves of the twig. In contrast to these, Nursi does not mention honey in the story. Rather he talks about numerous types of fruits coming out of fig tree’s branch, some of which are poisonous though they look sweet. Nursi’s analogy leads to nourishing pearls of wisdom such as:

1. “Dissolute, forbidden pleasures of youth are like poisonous honey.” (20).
2. “As pleasure’s disappearance causes pain, pain’s disappearance causes pleasure” (21).
3. “Man’s accountability requires opening the door to the reason and not removing the power of choice” (22).
4. “This world’s adornments are meant to rouse our appetite. As they are temporary and give pain upon separation, they are here only to instruct in wisdom, to arouse gratitude, and to encourage us to seek the permanent originals of which they are copies” (23).

Approaching the source as the last station

Although it is hard to historically detect the origin of the “story of wisdom,” and we’re not able to trace it beyond Barzouyeh, it is evident from the previous discussion that the very source of the story is not himself. A reasonable scenario would be accepting the story existing in the original compilation of Pañchatantra, in Sanskrit, and in the Jataka stories of Buddha.

Moreover, the inner-consistency of the story and the perfection of allegories give the fragrance of a heavenly wisdom rather than a carnal production. Maybe that is why Nursi summarized the Eighth Word as, “… interpreting an important mystery of the verses on the essence of this world, the essence of the human, and in humanity the meaning of religion, via a beautiful and luminary parable which has its original in the Scriptures of Abraham…” (24).

The Story of Wisdom and the Qur’an

It’s worthwhile to mention several tips from the book called “al-Hakim,” which literally means “full of wisdom.”

The scriptures sent to Prophet Abraham are mentioned in the Qur’an at only one place, the ending verses of the Chapter of A’la (the High): “This is surely contained in the former Scrolls: The Scrolls of Abraham and Moses” (25).

Preceding verses have a comparison of two people coming up with opposite responses to the advice of the Messenger: the mindful one who stands in awe of the Lord, and the wicked one remaining aloof from God (26). Later on, the punishment due to the latter’s heedlessness is described: “He will neither die therein (to be saved from punishment) nor live” (27). This description is consistent to the case of the man holding the twig inside the well.

The Qur’an’s narrative compares the situation of two persons, which is in line with Nursi’s double-winged narration. Said Nursi emphasizes that the twig which the man holds is a “fig tree.” The Qur’an says, at the beginning of the Chapter of Tin (the Fig): “By the fig and the olive, And Mount Sinai, And this secure City” (28). Some prominent scholars of Tafsir, interpreting these verses, believe that “the fig” refers to Damascus, thus to the mission of Abraham (29); the olives refer to Jerusalem, thus to Jesus; Mount Sinai refers to Egypt, thus to Moses; and “this secure City” to Mecca, thus to Prophet Muhammad (blessings be upon them all) (30).

Notes

1. Şahiner, N. 2007. Cemil Meriç’le Nur Sohbetleri, Izmir: Isik Publications, p. 106 (in Turkish).
2. Ibid. pp. 93-95.
3. Jainism and Buddhism. Udana 68-69: Parable of the Blind Men and the Elephant.
4. Hughes, Marilynn. 2005. The Voice of Prophets, Volume 2, Morrisville, NC, pp. 590-91.
5. Al-Ghazzali. 1933. Ihya’ `Ulum ad-Din, Volume 4, Cairo, p. 6. (in Arabic).
6. Jalalu’ddin Rumi. 1930. The Mathnawi. Edited with critical notes, translation, and commentary by Reynold A. Nicholson, Volume 4, Book 3, London, vv. I259-68.
7. Suyuti. Durr al-Mansur, Volume 6, p. 341. Hakim. Mustadrak, Volume 2, p. 425. (in Arabic).
8. Bidpai. 1885. Kalilah and Dimnah, or, The Fables of Bidpai. Translated by I.G.N. Keith Falconer, Cambridge University Press.
9. Bidpai. 1819. Kalila and Dimna. Translated by Rev. Wyndham Knatchbull, London: Oxford Press, pp. 32-46.
10. Nursi, Said. 2005. The Words, 8th Word, NJ: The Light, Inc.
11. Nursi. 2005, 10th Word, Introduction, Second Sign, 19th Word, Third Droplet.
12. Nursi. 2006. The Letters, 19th Letter, First Addendum, NJ: The Light, Inc.
13. Tolstoy, Leo. 2010. A Confession and Other Religious Writings, Translated by N.H. Dole, L. Maude, Digireads.com Publishing, pp. 13-14.
14. Nursi. 2006. 1st Letter, Second Question.
15. Bidpai. 1819. p. 81.
16. Doni, Anton Francesco. 2003. The Moral Philosophy of Doni: Known as The Fables of Bidpai. Translated by Thomas North, edited by John Anthony Butler, Carmine Di Biase, Canada: Dovehouse Editions.
17. Stevenson, Jane. 2004. “The Moral Philosophy of Doni, popularly known as the Fables of Bidpai,” University of Toronto Quarterly, Volume 74, Number 1, Winter 2004/2005, pp. 404-405.
18. North, Thomas. 1568. The Morall Philosophie of Doni, London: Ballantyne Press, p. 63.
19. Aymaz, Abdullah. “Güneş doğana kadar yediyüz secde”, July, 18, 2005, Zaman Newspaper (in Turkish).
20. Nursi. 2005. Thirteenth Word, Second Station.
21. Nursi. 2005. Tenth Word, Fourth Truth.
22. Nursi. 2005. Thirty First Word, Addendum.
23. Nursi. 2005. Tenth Word.
24. Nursi, Fihrist Risalesi, Sekizinci Söz, İstanbul: Envar Publications (in Ottoman Turkish).
25. Qur’an, 87/18-19.
26. Qur’an, 87/10-11.
27. Qur’an, 87/13.
28. Qur’an, 95/1-3.
29. İslamoğlu, Mustafa. Tefsirul Kur’an Te’vil ul Furkan, Tîn Sûresi (in Turkish).
30. Imam Qurtubi, Tafsir Qurtubi, Chapter 95.

[i]. By his original name, Vishna Sarma is believed to have lived in the Kashmir area about 200 BC and compiled different fables and stories, some dating back to the 13^th century BC, into a single book under the name of “Pañchatantra (Five Principles).”

[ii]   Professor at Dongbang Buddhist University, Director of the Korean Buddhist Order Association