yuminu (he does not believe); laisa huwa minnā (he does not belong to us); lā īmāna lahū (there is no faith in him); laisa huwa bi mumin (he is not a believer). We will immediately realize how categorically the Prophet, blessings and peace be on him, links a wide range of values and actions with Iman.
Just look at some of them.
One among you does not believe unless he loves me more than his father, his children, and all mankind (Bukhārī, Muslim).
One among you does not believe until all his desires follow what I have brought (Sharḥ al-Sunnah).
What lies between a man and Disbelief is the abandonment of the Prayer (Muslim).
The covenant between us and them is the Prayer, so if anyone abandons it he becomes a unbeliever (Aḥmad, Tirmidhī).
One who is not trustworthy has no faith; and one who does not keep his promise has no religion (Baihaqī).
When one fornicates he is not a believer, when one steals he is not a believer, when one drinks he is not a believer, when one takes plunder which makes men look at him he is not a believer, and when one defrauds he is not a believer (Bukhārī, Muslim).
He does not belong to us who does not show mercy to our young ones and respect our old ones (Tirmidhī).
By Him in whose hand my soul is, one does not believe till he likes for his brother what he likes for himself (Bukhārī, Muslim).
Reviling a Muslim is disobedience to God, and fighting with him is Disbelief (Bukhārī, Muslim).
I swear he does not believe, I swear he does not believe, I swear he does not believe. [When asked who, he said,] One from whose injurious conduct his neighbour is not safe (Bukhārī, Muslim).
He is not a believer who eats his fill while his neighbour is hungry (Bukhārī).
There are three signs of a hypocrite, even if he fasts and claims that he is a Muslim: when he speaks he lies, when he makes a promise he breaks it, and when he is trusted he betrays his trust (Muslim).
Flesh which has grown out of the unlawful earnings will not enter Paradise, for Hell is more fitting for all flesh which has grown out of the unlawful (Aḥmad).
If anyone knows how to shoot and gives it up he does not belong to us [for he gives up a skill which is essential for Jihad] (Muslim).
V
Since this book was first published in 1940, it has been meeting very real and great spiritual, intellectual and cultural needs of all those who have had the chance to read it. Since then it has been evoking faith and commitment in many lives. Its messages, by their acceptance and absorption, by the subsequent development of Muslim thought and society, and by the rising waves of Islamic resurgence, have too now become quite familiar. Some retrospect of time previous to their appearance is therefore necessary to appreciate their original freshness.
The early thirties, when Sayyid Mawdudi spoke these words, were stressful times for the Muslims in India. They were in a cauldron of political and cultural turmoil and uncertainty. The Khilafat movement had collapsed; the brief rule of the Congress ministries had given them a foretaste of what miseries awaited them under Hindu majority in a democratic India. They had no leader, no organization, no purpose.
What Sayyid Mawdudi said then contained the essential substance of the message that he had been writing and communicating at various times since the mid-twenties, which he continued to live for until his death in 1979. This was the message of his first book – Al-Jihad fil Islam – which appeared in 1926–27. It is a monumental, unparalleled treatise on the Jihad as an ideal, a process and an institution in Islam. It is also a provoking and convincing discourse on Jihad as the ultimate objective, the very life purpose of the Ummah. The concluding theme of this book echoes the theme of Al-Jihad.
The same message he had been propounding through the pages of his monthly journal, the Tarjumanul Qur’ān, since 1932. Yearning to do something for what he had so long been writing about compelled him to migrate from Hyderabad, in South India, to Darul Islam, in North India. For, he said, ‘I have now concluded that the real battleground is going to be Northern India. There the Muslim destiny will be decided and its effects will overtake the whole of India.’
In coming to Darul Islam he accepted Dr. Muhammad Iqbal’s (d. 1938) invitation, too, to collaborate with him in undertaking a reconstruction of Islamic thought. But paramount in his mind, as his many letters show, was the burning zeal and sense of urgency to awaken the Muslim Ummah to its real mission and purpose. One must read all of his other epoch-making writings of the time to understand him fully.
So, in the small mosque in Darul Islam, he had before him simple villagers who did not know much of politics, history, theology. The only things they knew were Iman and Islam and the five pillars. Explaining to them in simple language what he had written earlier was the task that he accomplished in these addresses.
The original freshness of those addresses, despite the passage of time, lingers on; it would not fade away. For the intent and import of God’s message is universal. They still leaven, as they leavened then, the hearts of their readers. Their need remains as great as ever.
The need of a good English translation can hardly be overemphasized. English is now the language of millions of Muslims. It is also an international language through which any contents can be easily made available to other Muslim languages. The presently available English version, Fundamentals of Islam, is a commendable effort and I must express my debt of gratitude to it for the immense help it has given me in the preparation of this new translation. However, it does not convey fully the real power and charm of the original Urdu. Perhaps no translation can, yet the need to improve further and further remains.
Translation is a difficult art, especially if it has to be effected between languages as disparate as Urdu and English. The task becomes more difficult if one has to translate a subject as unique as Islam into a language whose ethos has no place for it. The problem is further aggravated because of the masterful rhetoric which characterizes Sayyid Mawdudi’s addresses. The tone and temper of English and Urdu are different; but the spoken word in Urdu loses much more of its charm once rendered into English.
There was, therefore, no alternative but to resort to editing. The purpose of editing, however, it must remain clear, has not been to omit, add, modify or explain anything unless absolutely necessary. There has been only one limited aim: to improve the readability, to accentuate the power, to deliver the message as forcefully and effectively as does the original. This is not therefore a literal translation, but nor is it liberal. It is as faithful as one could be, while balancing the tension between the conflicting demands of remaining faithful to the original as well as retaining its power and charm. Some minor deletions there are, but only where it was necessary to take out what in English looked cumbersomely repetitive. And some words which would have been totally incomprehensible to an English reader have been either substituted or omitted.
Every temptation to ‘modernize’ the text, to bring it into conformity with the life and experience of the present-day readers of the English version, has been resisted. For even the most advanced, rational and technological ‘man’ shares a large and deep world with the most primitive, of which he himself may not be very aware. Hence the simple logic and examples of this book should strike as deep a chord within him as they do among its ordinary readers.
This is something important we must keep in mind. The minds of farmers or servicemen
