al-Qalam 68:34-41

Inna li'l-muttaqīna ʿinda rabbihim jannāti'l-naʿīm — a-fa-najʿalu'l-muslimīna ka'l-mujrimīn — mā lakum kayfa taḥkumūn — am lakum kitābun fīhi tadrusūn — inna lakum fīhi la-mā takhayyarūn — am lakum aymānun ʿalaynā bālighatun ilā yawmi'l-qiyāmati inna lakum la-mā taḥkumūn — salhum ayyuhum bi-dhālika zaʿīm — am lahum shurakāʾu fa'l-yaʾtū bi-shurakāʾihim in kānū ṣādiqīn "For those who guard themselves there are, with their Lord, gardens of bliss. Shall We then treat the Muslims like the criminals? What is the matter with you? How do you judge? Or have you a book of your own, in which you study? Is it written in it that whatever you choose shall be yours? Or have you oaths binding upon Us, running to the day of resurrection, that you shall have whatever you decree? Ask them which of them will stand surety for that. Or have they partners? Then let them bring their partners, if they are truthful."

The sūra leaves the narrative and enters a legal examination. And the examination proceeds by questions set one after another.

I record this as an observation about the word: what was destroyed in the narrative was a garden (janna). What is promised to the other party in the thirty-fourth verse is gardens (jannāt).

By using the same word in two different places the sūra sets up a comparison: the garden that was clutched at is gone; the garden that will be given is ʿinda rabbihim.

And the note ʿinda rabbihim matters: the garden is not with them but with their Lord. That is, it is not yet in their hands — and precisely for that reason it cannot be lost.

نَعِيم — root ن-ع-م. The same root as the niʿma of the second verse; treated there: the concrete sense of the root is softness.

This sentence is the axis of the sūra's section of examination.

And the logic of the question is this: the other side is doing well in this world. They have wealth, sons, standing. The conclusion they may draw from this is: we shall do well in the hereafter too.

The Qurʾān records this inference elsewhere as well — the deniers' claim that "nothing will happen to us".

The verse turns this claim into a question of logic: is it reasonable that both should be treated the same?

مُسْلِم — root س-ل-م. And the original sense of the root is soundness, freedom from defect, completeness: salima — he was sound, he was saved. Salām — well-being; silm — peace.

Aslama (Form IV): to hand oneself over, to give a thing over whole. Muslim — one who hands himself over.

مُجْرِم — root ج-ر-م. And the concrete sense of the root is to cut, to pluck off: jarama'l-nakhla — he cut and gathered the dates. From there it passed to the sense of "crime"; jurm — a crime.

And now an interesting proximity, as my own reading: the verb ṣarama (to cut, to harvest) used in the narrative and the root jarama belong to the same field of meaning — both have to do with plucking fruit from the branch.

I record this not as a claim of derivation but as an observation about a family of meaning. The two roots are distinct; but that Arabic should derive its word for "crime" from "plucking off" is worth noting: a crime is the tearing of a thing from where it belongs. And this overlaps with the definition of ẓulm treated at the thirty-first verse.

Setting the two words side by side is meaningful too:

So the opposition stands in the roots of the words as well: the one is whole and gives, the other tears away.

مَا لَكُمْ — a formula in Arabic conveying astonishment and rebuke: "what is the matter with you?", "what is wrong with you?"

كَيْفَ تَحْكُمُونَ — "how do you judge?"

حَكَمَ — root ح-ك-م. And the original sense of the root is to hold back, to rein in: ḥakama'l-dābba — he bridled the beast. Ḥakama — the bit put in a horse's mouth.

Two words are born from here:

• حُكْم (ḥukm) — a decision; the cutting short of a matter and binding it.
• حِكْمَة (ḥikma) — the knowledge that holds a person back from error.

So to give a judgement is, at the root of the word, an act of reining in: not letting a matter run loose but tying it somewhere.

And the question of the verse is: by what authority do you tie it?

The verb is plural and imperfect: taḥkumūn — you keep giving judgement. Not a single act of judging, then, but a settled habit.

And the word will come again in the thirty-ninth verse: inna lakum la-mā taḥkumūn — "you shall have whatever you decree". By using the same verb twice the sūra names the claim: these people are giving judgements — in their own favour.

Between verses 37 and 41 the word أَمْ (or) comes four times, and each time it eliminates a source of proof:

All four are eliminated. And the four cover every ground on which a claim could rest in that period: book, contract, surety, protection.

This is the structure of a legal interrogation, and I record it as my own reading: the verses take up the other side's claim with the logic of a court — "what have you got?"

دَرَسَ — root د-ر-س. And the concrete sense of the root is interesting: to pass over a thing again and again, to wear it away until its traces are gone. Darasati'l-rīḥu'l-āthār — the wind effaced the traces. Dirās — threshing grain on the floor, going over it.

From here the sense of "study" is born: going over a text again and again.

And the idea of wearing away at the root of the word is instructive: to learn is to go back and forth over a text so often that the text is worn. The Turkish word ders — lesson — comes from this root and carries the same idea.

And now a link within the sūra, as my own reading: in the first verse the pen and what is written were named. In the thirty-seventh verse the other side is asked: have you too a book that you study?

The sūra puts its question to the other side from its own ground. The claim to a written source is the ground exalted at the opening of the sūra. The other side is asked, "have you one as well?"

إِنَّ لَكُمْ فِيهِ لَمَا تَخَيَّرُونَ — "is whatever you choose in it?"

تَخَيَّرَ — root خ-ي-ر. To choose, to choose the better. In Form V: to choose for oneself, to take what one likes.

And the irony of the sentence is sharp: it cannot be written in a book that "whatever you want shall be yours" — because such a book is not a book but a wish-list.

The verse pictures the other side's belief as a wish-list. And it does not say so directly; it does it with a question.

أَيْمَان — root ي-م-ن. Yamīn — the right hand; and from there "oath". In Arabic right hands were struck together when an agreement was made; the name of the oath comes from there.

بَٰلِغَة — root ب-ل-غ. To reach, to arrive, to come to maturity. Bāligha — reaching, definitive, firm.

The construction: "firm oaths, binding upon Us, valid until the day of resurrection."

And a legal language is being used here: a contract with a term, binding, reinforced by oath. Such a contract is made between human beings; the verse asks: did you make one with Us?

One further link within the sūra: in the tenth verse the portrait's first attribute was ḥallāf (the great swearer); in the seventeenth the owners of the garden swore. Now the other side is asked: have you an oath taken from God?

Oaths in three places: their own oaths, the oath in the narrative, and the alleged divine oath. The sūra takes up the idea of the oath three times from different directions. I record this as my own reading.

زَعِيم — root ز-ع-م. And the root has two senses:

1. To claim, to assert without ground. Zaʿama — he claimed (usually with a negative tone). Zaʿm — a groundless claim. 2. To stand surety, to take responsibility. Zaʿīm — the spokesman, the leader of a group; and the guarantor.

The Qurʾān uses the second sense plainly in one place: in the narrative of Joseph (Yūsuf), of the missing measure it is said "and I am surety for it" (wa anā bihī zaʿīm) (Yūsuf 12/72).

The relation between these two senses of the word is instructive, as my own inference: the one who makes a claim has to stand behind his claim. A guarantor is one who stands behind his word. So the difference between zaʿm and zaʿāma is whether responsibility is taken up or not.

And the question of the verse aims exactly at this: you make the claim — but who stands surety?

This is one of the hardest questions that can be asked in a dispute, and it holds today too: is there anyone standing behind a claim who will pay the price if it turns out false?

شَرِيك — root ش-ر-ك. To be a partner. Shirk — associating a partner with God; sharika — a partnership.

And the demand of the verse is concrete: fa'l-yaʾtū bi-shurakāʾihim — "let them bring their partners."

So it is not an abstract argument but a demand for production. The Qurʾān uses this method elsewhere too: the alleged intermediaries are asked to be brought forward.

And the demand is itself an answer: asking for a thing that cannot be brought shows that the thing does not exist.

And the section connects with a formula that occurred at the beginning of the sūra.

This conditional clause (in kānū ṣādiqīn) comes often in the Qurʾān at the end of demands for proof addressed to deniers.

And there is a symmetry here, as my own reading: at the beginning of the sūra the other side was interrogating the Prophet's mind. From the thirty-fourth verse on, the sūra interrogates the other side's proofs.

The sūra does not do to others what was done to it.