The Seventeenth Flash

Suppose that two roads lie before us and that we choose one of them. At every step, we encounter helpless and destitute people. We see tyrants assaulting them, plundering their possessions, and demolishing their homes; at times, they wound them as well. Their condition is so pitiful that even the heavens seem to weep for them. Wherever we turn, we are confronted by the same sorrowful scene. The sounds that fill the road are the clamour of oppressors and the cries of the oppressed, so that the whole road is shrouded in mourning.

Since man, by virtue of his humanity, feels compassion for the suffering of his fellow human beings, he is exposed to endless anguish. Yet the conscience cannot endure such suffering. Whoever travels this road is therefore forced to choose between two alternatives: either he must renounce his humanity, embrace boundless cruelty, and go on with a heart unmoved by the suffering of the rest of mankind so long as he himself remains safe; or he must silence the demands of both his heart and his intellect.

O Europe, which has turned away from Christianity and fallen under the spell of dissipation and misguidance! With your blind cunning, like the DajjālAn end-times figure associated with deception, tyranny, and opposition to Islam and its values whose vision is confined to a single eye, you have plunged humanity into this hellish condition. You then realised that this gives rise to an incurable disease—a disease that casts man down from the highest rank to the lowest, reducing him to the level of the basest animals.

The remedy you offer for this disease consists of nothing but enticing distractions, intoxicating amusements, and fantasies that merely numb man's feelings and faculties for a time. May your remedy be the cause of your own destruction, as indeed it shall be!

Yes, the road you have opened before humanity, and the happiness you have offered it, are just as in this example.

As for the second road, it is the path bestowed upon humanity through the guidance of the Qur’an. Along it, we see in every place and every city the disciplined soldiers of a just sultan keeping watch. From time to time, at the sultan’s command, some of those soldiers are released from service. Their weapons, horses, and other equipment belonging to the state are taken back, and they are given their papers of discharge.

Outwardly, the soldiers may appear saddened by their discharge, since they must part from the horses and weapons to which they have grown accustomed. In reality, however, they experience relief and joy at being released from duty, for they know that they will go to the sultan and return to his court.

At times, the officials charged with carrying out the discharge come across a newly enlisted soldier who does not recognise them. When they order him to surrender his weapons, he replies:

“I am a soldier of the sultan and am in his service. In due course, I shall return to him. I do not know who you are. If you have come with his permission and approval, then you are welcome; show me that you act on his authority. Otherwise, keep away from me. Even if I remain alone and you number in the thousands, I shall still resist you. I do this not for my own sake, for I do not belong to myself, but to my sultan. My soul and my weapon are trusts entrusted to me by the sultan. Therefore, in order to protect that trust and defend the honour and dignity of my sultan, I shall never submit to you!”