How do we live a life of both knowledge and piety, of critical investigation and a profound faith in the Unseen? Traditionally, Muslims would listen to and share anecdotes from the lives of their eminent scholars, to draw inspiration on how to combine the seemingly conflicting virtues of scholarship and devotion. In the process, they would keep alive the memory of those pious figures, and connect themselves to the legacies those scholars bestowed to the larger community.

One such exemplary scholar was Sayyid Muhammad Ḥasan al-Shīrāzī, also known as Mīrzā al-Shīrāzī, whose piety and scholarship were revered far beyond the confines of the seminaries of higher learning. Mīrzā al-Shīrāzī was born in 1230 A.H./1814 C.E., to a scholarly family in Shiraz, and began his studies from a very young age in that city. He traveled first to the city of Isfahan, then to the seminaries of Iraq to continue his education. He was one of the most distinguished disciples of the singular marjiʾ of his time, Shaykh Murṭaḍā al-Anṣārī, who he succeeded as the primary marjiʿ of the Shiʿi world. Later, Mīrzā al-Shīrāzī moved to the predominantly Sunni city of Samarra, establishing that city as a center of Shiʿi learning for generations of scholars after him. It was in Samarra that he issued his famous decree banning tobacco use, so as to oppose the Qajar Nasir al-Din Shah’s 1889 concession to a British corporation. The concession had given the British a monopoly on all tobacco produced, sold, and exported from Iran. This decree of Mīrzā al-Shīrāzī was one of his lasting legacies, not only because of its effectiveness in ending the concession in a matter of months, but also for its later social and political ramifications in Iranian society. Mīrzā al-Shīrāzī died in 1312 A.H./1895 C.E., and is buried in Najaf.

The following anecdotes are reported by the contemporary marjiʿ, Sayyid Mūsā al-Shubayrī al-Zanjānī, and collected in his book, Jurʿeh-yi az Daryā. They are presented in a casual yet authoritative tone. On the one hand, they mirror the tradition of hadith-reports that begin by mentioning a chain of narrators; on the other, they are accounts by some of Mīrzā’s closest students and devotees of his personal virtues and erudition. We hope that these anecdotes can inspire ways of living a life of virtue, and can renew a memory and connection to those pious scholars within the Shiʿi tradition.

Transliteration note: This article was translated from Persian, and will reflect the original language of the author. It will generally not reflect the Arabic-specific transliteration standards, for example the definite article (al-) before names, e.g. “Mīrzā Shīrāzī”.

The Four Pillars

All four pillars of a true scholar—characteristics which if found in someone indicate that he is worthy of the status and rank of marjiʿiyyah—were present in the person of Mīrzā Shīrāzī. These characteristics are: an unparalleled scholarship and knowledge, piety and fear of God, a completely virtuous character, and, finally, an unmatched intellect. These four characteristics were present in their most perfect form in the person of Mīrzā Shīrāzī. No one can doubt the scholarship and knowledge of Mīrzā. Even if there were no evidence of his knowledge other than his students and disciples, they would suffice in proving his scholarship. The very fact that every true thinker and scholar after Mīrzā was trained by him proves the greatness of his scholarship. This is similar to Waḥid Bihbahānī, who trained students like the great Baḥr al-ʿUlūm, Ṣāḥib al-Rīyāḍ, Kāshif al-Ghiṭāʾ, Mīrzā Mahdī Shahristānī, Sayyid Muḥsin Aʿrajī and Mulla Mahdī Narāqī. The caliber of these students testifies to the excellent level of Bihbahānī’s own scholarship.

In Shiʿi history, there are two scholars—two true masters—whose students were the most important scholars of their [respective] eras: one is Waḥīd Bihbahānī, the other, Mīrzā Shīrāzī.

A Father’s Test

Additionally, Mīrzā Shīrāzī truly loved scholarship. Meaning, in addition to the fact that he was a profound thinker and master-scholar, he also had a special affinity for learning. I have heard the following examples in support of this:

One such case is the following: Sayyid Ḥājj Mahdī Rūḥānī narrates from his uncle, the late Sayyid Aḥmad, who in turn narrates from the late Sayyid Abd al-Hādī, and he from the late Mīrzā ʿAlī Shīrāzī, the son of Mīrzā [Shīrāzī], who was a marjīʿ al-taqlīd in his own right. Mīrzā ʿAlī said, “Towards the end of Mīrzā’s final illness, his health had deteriorated to such an extent that it wasn’t clear whether he had passed or was still alive. We had to somehow determine his state. One person said to Mīrzā, ‘A dignitary on behalf of the Ottoman government has come to visit your graciousness.’ The signs of life did not appear in Mīrzā’s body. Another said, “The Iranian ambassador has come to pay his respects.’ But there was still no effect.”

Mīrzā ʿAlī then said, “I know how to test my father’s state of consciousness.” He then whispers in the ear of Mīrzā Shīrāzī, “What is the ruling of burnt bread?” Mīrzā stirs. Then he says, “How shall we determine its ruling? Insofar as it falls under the category of eating the repulsive (khabīthah), should we say that it is forbidden? Or should we say that it is forbidden insofar as it is harmful? Or do we say that if we were to prohibit it, then the unburnt bread that is mixed with the burnt would also be wasted? The corollary of this prohibition, therefore, would be the prohibition of another thing [that was not originally prohibited], and this causes a conflict in act. From this respect then, should we say that the prohibition is not in effect?” Mīrzā analyzed all those derivations while in that state on his deathbed.

Unbroken Silence

I heard from the late Shaykh Riḍā Zanjānī, who narrated from the late Shaykh [Abd al-Karīm Hāʾirī,] who said, “We were sitting in Mīrzā’s lecture, when one of Mīrzā’s top-tier students began a side discussion (I believe it may have been Sayyid Muḥammad Fishārakī or someone else who was also among his most prominent students). In the middle of his lecture, Mīrzā says to Sayyid Muḥammad, “Sir, please be quiet.” Sayyid Muḥammad is dismayed, and says, “Sir, we were both talking. Why do you single me out for reproach? Why do you only direct your criticism to me? Why do you only address me?” (This next section was reported by Shaykh Murtaḍā Ḥāʾirī.) It is at this moment that Mīrzā says, “These issues that you are just now considering, we thought about and resolved 40 years ago. We even considered other issues [that you have not even thought of.]” Mīrzā becomes upset. He falls into a total and unbroken silence, and no one else would dare speak. (This next section was also narrated by Shaykh Riḍā Zanjānī.) After a long while, Mīrzā Muḥammad Taqī Shīrāzī tried to break the silence. He asked a question about a passage from Shaykh [Anṣārī’s] book on ritual purity. He asked, “Sir, what does this statement of the Shaykh mean?” And Mīrzā proceeds to explain the text.

[The late Shaykh Abd al-Karīm Ḥāʾirī]^[1]It should be noted that Shaykh ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Hāʾirī was one of the preeminent marājīʿ of his time, and reestablished the Qumm seminary in the 20th century. Shaykh al-Hāʿirī’s own intellectual achievement is what makes his following statement so exceptional. said, “I am so full of regret that I did not write what [Mīrzā] said in response. Afterward, however much we tried to make sense of that passage, we could not decipher it. We simply could not understand what Shaykh [al-Anṣārī] was attempting to convey. It seems that [the passage] was not clear for Mīrzā Muḥammad Taqī either.”

This anecdote provides an insight into how astute but critical Mīrzā was of his own intellectual positions. At times, when we approach a tradition as long lasting and intricate as Islamic law or legal theory, it is difficult to appreciate how critical scholars can be of that tradition’s received conclusions. As this anecdote shows, eminent Shiʿi scholars are constantly engaged in the process of reconsidering the fatāwā and conclusions of their forebearers. At the same time, those scholars understand their precarious position as stewards of God’s law, and recognize their own intellectual limitations. Thus, they are careful to not reach hasty conclusions or overrule fatāwā of their predecessors, particularly those that have passed the test of time, lasting the critical scrutiny of multiple generations of previous scholars. There are some parallels here to other academic disciplines, like the various fields of science or law, where the consensus of a community of scholars is treated with value and thoughtful consideration. These two qualities, of critical renewal but also of a reluctance to diverge from received wisdom, characterize the internal logic that animates Islamic law, a logic that can be difficult for a person not steeped in the Islamic legal tradition to decipher. 

In addition, the anecdote is telling of Mīrzā’s self-restraint. His measured response to his student’s unfounded criticism is telling not only of his erudition, but of his total command of his behavior; in the face of a frustrating situation, he chose silence.

Intellectual Acuity

In terms of his thinking, he had an incredibly astute and dexterous mind. In general, Najafi-style discussions and Samarra’i-style discussion are fundamentally different; they abide by two entirely different methods. Conclusive statements are a hallmark of Najafi scholars, whereas uncertainty and inconclusive statements are the signature method of Samarra’ī scholars. Shaykh Mujtahidi used to phrase it in this way: the quintessential word of Najafis was “Indeed,” (innamā) whereas the quintessential word of Samarrāʾī scholars was “Perhaps” (laʿalla).

Anyway, because Mīrzā’s mind was so adroit, he would frequently reconsider his scholarly positions. He was also a very pious and God-fearing individual. If he wanted to simply present his juridical decree (fatwā) quickly and without due consideration, he would fall in dubious legal territory. Hence he would frequently say, “Obey precaution [in this issue],” and would rarely present his juridical decree. Sometimes arguments are made against a jurist who calls to precaution (iḥityāṭ), namely that it causes undue burden and is difficult to abide by. Some jurists defend the call to legal precaution by stating, “Mīrzā fulfilled the role of marjī-i taqlid for a very long time, and he would call his followers to abide by precaution. And yet, this call to precaution did not cause any major problems or conflicts.”

Both in terms of his knowledge and scholarship and in terms of his piety the Mīrzā was unanimously revered and deferred to by all the eminent students and scholars of his time, all of whom were exceptional in their own piety and other qualities. Take, for example, Mīrzā Muḥammad Taqī Shīrāzī. Even Fāḍil Ardakānī—who was a peer of Shaykh Anṣārī and then held the same rank as Mīrzā Shīrāzī—called others to follow Mīrzā’s juridical opinions. He would take issue with anyone else who would write their own legal manuals (and declare their marjīʿiyyah), saying, “Has it been somehow ordained that every other person will write a legal manual? The Mīrzā is a great scholar and is also very pious.”

Mīrzā’s Forbearance

Hajj Sayyid Abū al-Faḍl Zanjānī would narrate the following from his father, Ḥājj Sayyid Muḥammad Zanjānī, “I once visited Mīrzā, and he was busy responding to a legal query (istiftāʾ). A sayyid entered, and requested some (financial) assistance. Mīrzā didn’t attend to him. The sayyid then snapped, “On the Day of Judgment, all this gold and silver will become snakes and scorpions. It will all become fire, and will be hung from your neck!”

Mīrzā’s acquaintances and servants wanted to force the man out because of his disrespectful behavior, but Mīrzā, who had the highest level of adab, did not permit them to do so, and forbade them from bothering the man. He called the man back, and when he returned, Mīrzā apologized, saying, “I was in the middle of responding to a legal query and didn’t notice your request.” He then gave the man some money, and the man left. As he was leaving, the only response that Mīrzā uttered was, “It is clear that this gentleman’s utter desperation has caused him to lose his patience.” This is all that Mīrzā said in response [to that man’s disrespect.]

Don’t Involve Yourself!

Mīrzā Shīrāzī’s intellectual genius is universally accepted. Many anecdotes are reported in this regard. For example, there was a time (in Samarra) when tensions between the Shiʿa and Sunni were very high, to such an extent that it led to some violent and fatal conflicts. The situation was so dire that the late Shaykh Mujtahidi Tabrizi narrates from Hajj Shaykh Abd al-Karim Ha’iri, who said, “There was some furniture and wares in our basement that needed to be moved and relocated to a different house. We called a porter, and however much we urged him to come and assist in moving the wares, he would refuse. He was afraid that if he were to enter the basement, he would be held and then killed. Anyway, the situation in those days was that difficult and tense.

It was during such circumstances that the British sent an envoy to Mīrzā to assist him. The envoy said, “We will provide you with whatever assistance you request. We are at your service.” Mīrzā responded, “This is a domestic dispute. Two brothers are having a disagreement. It is not right for an outsider to involve himself. We will resolve this ourselves; the situation does not call for your involvement.”

In short, he did not accept their offer. The Ottoman sultan got wind of this event. He, in turn, sent the following notice: “Mīrzā is to be obeyed in whatever issue he ordains. Act according to his decree.” But Mīrzā does not permit this (either).

Mīrzā’s Acuity and Astuteness

Mīrzā was an incredibly intelligent person, and was profoundly perceptive and discerning. Ḥājj Sayyid Riḍā Ṣadr narrated a story from the famous public lecturer, Ḥājj Shaykh Ansari,^[2]This is not the famous Shaykh Murṭaḍā al-Anṣārī, who was a teacher of Mīrzā al-Shīrāzī. who in turn narrated from Shaykh ʿAbd al-Karīm Hāʾirī, who said:

Towards the end of Mirzā’s life, when Mīrzā’s authority and legitimacy were both extensively acknowledged, it was hard to get an audience with him, because of the large number of meetings people requested. Of course, he was very advanced in age, and there were many issues for him to attend to. Therefore, every few days or so, he would hold a public audience so as to attend to the concerns of all the people who wanted to visit him. During one of these public sessions, some individuals noticed that Mīrzā is paying attention to a particular individual. Regardless of whoever else proceeds to pay their respects to Mīrzā, he still has his attention set on that individual. Until finally, it is that individual’s turn to step forward and pay his respects to Mīrzā. Mīrzā asks him, for example, “Where are you from?” The man responds, “From Karbala.” Mīrzā asks, “Why have you come here?” He says, “I have come to study here in Samarra.” Mīrzā then says, “I command you return to Karbala immediately. I will provide for you the same stipend and privileges of the students who study in this city, but in Karbala. You must return to Karbala immediately.”

Mīrzā then calls his servant and asks him, “When does the [next] train depart?” He says, for example, “Half an hour from now.” Mīrzā then says, “Take this man to the train [station] immediately, and wait there until he is able to embark for Karbala. Then, you may return.”

Half an hour or so later, Mīrzā continues to ask, “Why has the servant not returned?” He was anxiously waiting as he counted down the minutes until his servant’s arrival. Finally, the servant returned, and Mīrzā says, “Did you send him on his way?” He says, “Yes.” Mīrzā replies, “Were you personally there when the train departed?” He responds, “Yes.” Mīrzā asks, “So his departure is final?” He says, “Yes.” Mīrzā would continuously ask until it was certain that the individual had returned to Karbala.

Later, some of those close to Mīrzā asked him, “Why did you have this individual return to Karbala with such determination?” He responded, “I deciphered from this individual’s appearance that if he were to remain in Samarra, he would disrupt all the work we have done here by just reciting certain curses.^[3]Mīrzā was concerned here that the student would recite curses against individuals revered by other Islamic schools of thought. All the work we have done and all the difficulties we have endured in successfully quelling the disputes between the Sunnis and the Shiʿa so that this city may become a center for the Shiʿa, these would all be ruined because of one such act. All that effort would be for naught if he were to recite a single curse in the ḥaram [of Samarra].”

Later, some people reported meeting that individual, and he said, “What a decent man Mīrzā is! He didn’t even let me recite a single [curse!]”

This story is telling of the incredible sagacity and astuteness of Mīrzā. He was aware and sensitive to such issues, and could discern the attitudes and behaviors of people simply by seeing them.

The Perfection of Virtues

In short, Mīrzā was an incredible person. One could dare say that such an individual, who has acquired all these disparate perfections within himself, is rare among our scholars. He was a person who was both at the peak of scholarship, and was also an exemplar of virtuosity; he had both immense piety, and a profound intellect.

In this article, Shaykh Hamid Raza Fazil explores two central issues regarding the Qur’an: how do we understand the words of the Qur’an? And how do those words point us towards the ultimate goal of the Qur’an, the ethical and metaphysical realities that underlie and compose our existence? Shaykh Fazil explores these questions through the views of two major Qur’anic mufassirs in Islamic history: the 6th-century mystic, Muḥyī al-Dīn Ibn ʿArabī, and the 20th-century mufassir and philosopher-sage, ʿAllāmah Muḥammad Ḥusayn al-Ṭabāṭabāʾī.

This article is translated by Dr. Syed Rizwan Zamir, associate professor of religion at Davidson College in Davidson, North Carolina. The Qurʾanic translations are loosely based on Arberry’s The Koran Interpreted: A Translation.

Introduction

God Almighty says: “It is He who sent down upon thee the Book, wherein are verses clear that are the Essence of the Book, and others ambiguous. As for those in whose hearts is swerving, they follow the ambiguous part, desiring dissension, and desiring its interpretation; and none knows its interpretation, save only God. And those firmly rooted in knowledge say, ‘We believe in it; all is from our Lord’; yet none remembers, but men possessed of minds.”^[1]Qurʾan, Āl ʿImrān (3):5.

In this brief article, we will explore the reality of taʾwīl, a Qurʾanic concept about which there is significant disagreement among scholars. First, however, the difference between the related terms tafsīr and taʾwīl needs to be clarified. Although some scholars consider these two terms to be the same, and have in fact themselves engaged more in taʾwil instead of tafsīr, more precise scholars (muḥaqqiqūn) affirm a difference between the two.

Tafsīr

Dictionaries define tafsīr in the following way: (1) to discuss and explain something (fassara al-bayān); (2) to lift a veil (kashf al-qināʿ); and (3) to lift a veil from the face of someone (kashf al-mughaṭṭā).^[2]Lisān al-ʿArab, s.v. “f-s-r.” In its technical usage, tafsīr refers to “the meaning of Qurʾanic verses, and the discovering what is intended by them and what they are referring to.” (Wa-huwa bayānu maʿānī al-ayāt al-qurʾāniyyah wa-l-kashf ʿan maqāṣidiha wa-madālīliha)^[3]Tafsīr al-Mīzān, vol. 1 (Beirut: Muʾassasah al-Aʿlamī li-l-Maṭbūʿāt, 1390 S.H.), p.4. In other words, to discuss the meaning of the Quranic verses and to lift veils from its hidden purport (madlūlāt) is called tafsīr. Therefore, translation pertains to the outward meaning, whereas tafsīr deals with a veiled meaning.

Taʾwīl

Dictionaries define it as, “to return a thing [to its origin],” (al-awl: al-rujūʿ—awwala illayh al-shayʾ—rajaʿahu).^[4]Lisān al-ʿArab, s.v. “a-w-l.” From this general meaning, our discussion pertains specifically to taʾwīl of Qurʾanic verses. Well-known exegetes and religious scholars explain its technical meaning as any act or statement taken to its finality and end. For example, if a verse has various meanings, the one that becomes the final meaning will be called its taʾwīl. Similarly, if a person carries out an act without clarity about its final goal and only determines its goal afterwards, it will be called taʾwīl.

Examples include: (1) the story of Moses (ʿa) and Khidr (ʿa), where, Khidr (ʿa) carried out some acts in Moses’s company—acts whose goal was unclear, and faced objections from Moses (ʿa). In the end, Khidr (ʿa) explained his objectives, namely, that the reason for boring a hole in the boat was to protect it from an unjust and oppressive ruler. He said, “As for the ship, it belonged to certain poor men, who toiled upon the sea; and I desired to damage it, for behind them there was a king who was seizing every ship by brute force.” (Qurʾan, al-Kahf (18):79.). (2) If a person sees a dream, and its meaning is unclear, then it is called taʾwīl. For example, when Joseph (ʿa) saw a dream and found it occurring in the outside world (khārij), he said, “’See, father,’ he said, ‘this is the interpretation of my vision of long ago; my Lord has made it true.’”^[5]Qurʾan, Yūsuf (12):100.

Similarly if there are specific meanings and secrets hidden in the speech of the speaker that constitute his or her final goal and objective, they are called taʾwīl. This is the same meaning of taʾwil that the Qurʾan refers to, namely the deeper meanings of God’s words and their final aims which are disclosed to the human person.

Taʾwīl According to Ibn ʿArabī

In Ibn ‘Arabi’s view, taʾwīl can be of two types:

1. Blameworthy: When theologians and philosophers attempt to explain away the outward aspects of a verse when it appears contradictory to reason. This is blameworthy taʾwīl because they employ their deficient reason to explain the verse.
2. Praiseworthy: The way of the folk of Allah and the gnostics (ʿurafāʾ), which he also names a “sign” (ishārah). Gnostics employ their unveiling (kashf) and witnessing (shuhūd) to understand Qurʾanic verses; the hidden meaning (maʿānī bāṭiniyyah) that is bestowed to them by Allah, the Most Exalted, through inspiration is called taʾwīl. For Ibn ʿArabī, it is this taʾwīl that is praiseworthy.

The first type of taʾwīl is the way of the theologians and philosophers. Ibn ʿArabī does not deem it valid. Attempting to avoid the term “people of taʾwīl” (ahl al-taʾwīl) for himself, he instead calls them [i.e., theologians and philosophers] the people of taʾwīl. [That said], he ascribes the particular taʾwīl to gnostics, referring to the verse, “[A]nd none knows its interpretation (taʾwīl), save only God. And those firmly rooted in knowledge say, ‘We believe in it; all is from our Lord’; yet none remembers, but men possessed of minds.” ^[6]Qurʾan, Āl ʿImrān (3):7.

For Ibn ʿArabī, “those firmly rooted in knowledge” are the gnostics, because human thinking does not intervene in their teachings. He also calls them “people of signs.” In his view, just as the descent of the Qurʾan is from God, the Most Exalted, similarly, the understanding of the Qurʾan also descends from God, the Most Exalted, upon the hearts of the believers. Hence understanding also comes from God. However, the text of the Qurʾan is not limited by these esoteric meanings. Rather, new meanings are always found.^[7]Muḥyi al-Dīn ibn al-ʿArabī, “Maʿrifat al-Ishārāt,” in al-Futūḥāt al-Makkiyyah, vol. 10 (n.p., n.d.), p. 279. See also, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd, Falsafat al-Taʾwīl (al-Markaz al-Thiqāfī al-ʿArabī, 2014), p. 267-8. )

Taʾwīl According to ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī

ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī, in his book, Tafsīr al-Mizān, mentions the following regarding the reality behind taʾwīl:

For ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī, taʾwīl is not a question of words and meaning, but instead refers to an objective reality. Words, after all, provide signification (dalālah) to bring the mind closer to this reality. But it is not possible for words to encompass and exhaust that reality’s scope. Words only indicate. The reality of the Qurʾan is contained in the protected tablet (al-lawḥ al-maḥfūẓ), which is with us is the form of words in the book. These words and their meanings are not taʾwīl; rather taʾwīl is that true objective reality from which all knowledge/gnosis, Qurʾanic prescriptions, injunctions, and wisdom draw their life. The words of the Qurʾan are reflections of this reality, which is the esoteric Qurʾan; access to this reality and taʾwīl is for God, the Most Exalted, and the Pure Infallibles.

Who are these Infallibles? Allah has mentioned them in Sūrat al-Aḥzāb: “People of the House, God only desires to put away from you abomination and to cleanse you.” Therefore, only Ahl al-Bayt can carry out the taʾwīl of the Qurʾan. It is this meaning of taʾwīl that helps us understand the Qurʾanic verse, “All that is wet and dry is within the Qurʾan,”^[11]Qurʾan, al-Anʿām (6):59. “Not a grain in the earth’s shadows, not a thing, fresh or withered, but it is in a Book Manifest. and that is possible only when we place the Ahl al-Bayt alongside the Qurʾan. It is so because according to the Qurʾan and hadith-reports the Noble Prophet (ṣ) and his Ahl al-Bayt are the only Holy Beings (dhawāt muqaddasah) that have access to the Qurʾan. This also clarifies those aḥādīth that declare, “Without us, the Ahl al-Bayt, you cannot understand the Qurʾan.”^[12]Comparable aḥādīth include the following hadith from Imam al-Bāqir (ʿa): “Only a liar will claim to have collected the entire Qurʾan as it was revealed [other than the Ahl al-Bayt.]  None have compiled, memorized, and preserved [the Qurʾan] exactly as Allah revealed except for ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib and the Imams after him.” (Al-Kulaynī, al-Kāfī, vol. 1 (Tehran: Dār al-Kutub al-Islāmiyyah, 1407), hadith #1, p. 228) And: “…only he who is addressed by the Qurʾan truly knows it.” (Al-Kulaynī, al-Kāfī, vol 8, hadith #485, p. 311.) For more such aḥādīth, see Muḥsin al-Fayḍ al-Kāshānī, “Towards the Sacred Text: The Importance and Value of the Qurʾan in the Life of a Believer,” translated by Azhar Sheraze. Therefore, Ahl al-Bayt are needed in every era to understand the Qurʾan. The reality of the Shiʿi interpretive tradition is also made clear through this meaning of taʾwīl. They claim that they derive religion and its teachings from Ahl al-Bayt. No companion of the Prophet, other than the Ahl al-Bayt, has claimed a special access to the true reality of the Qurʾan. This claim is only made in the Shiʿi tradition, whose source is the teachings of Ahl al-Bayt.

Synthesis and Conclusions

There are three stages to understanding the Qurʾan: (a) tarjamah (translation), relating to the outward words and their meaning; (b) tafsīr, explaining the meanings of the verses; and (c) taʾwīl, about which three views have been presented. They are:

1. The popular view, that some meanings of [particular Qurʾanic] words and/or the ultimate meaning sought is taʾwīl;
2. Ibn ʿArabī’s view, that the hidden meaning that is bestowed by God Almighty is taʾwīl;
3. ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s view, that Qurʾanic words and meanings are derived from reality and that reality is taʾwīl.

According to the popular view, taʾwīl is not related to the whole of the Qurʾan, but only to certain verses, namely, those that are ambiguous. According to Ibn ‘Arabi’s view taʾwīl is possible for the whole of the Qurʾan, regardless of whether they are ambiguous or clear verses. This is so because the whole of the Qurʾan has hidden meanings that are bestowed from God, the Most Exalted. According to ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī as well, taʾwīl of the Qurʾan belongs to the entire Qurʾan, because the reality of all verses exists independent of their words.

According to the popular view and that of ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī, knowledge of taʾwīl is with God and those firmly rooted in knowledge (i.e., Ahl al-Bayt). However, according to Ibn ‘Arabi, those rooted in knowledge are all gnostics, whether they are of Ahl al-Bayt or not.

According to the popular view and that of Ibn ‘Arabi, taʾwīl is related to Qurʾanic words and their meaning. However, according to ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī, taʾwīl is not related to words, but rather to reality and objective existence.

The meaning of the Qurʾanic verse, “nor is there a single grain in the darkness of the earth, or anything, fresh or withered, that is not written in a clear Book”^[13]Qurʾan, al-Anʿām (6):59. is best understood if we accept ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī’s view. That is to say, in every age and era the reality of the words of the Holy Qurʾan can only be explained by Ahl al-Bayt. It is so because only these personalities are truly deserving of the title, “those who have knowledge of the Book.”^[14]Qurʾan, al-Raʿd (13):43. Hence, in every age, Ahl al-Bayt are needed to understand the Qurʾan, regardless of whether the particular science in question regards legal rulings, wisdom, or exhortations. Only Ahl al-Bayt can explicate the Qurʾan’s true meaning and purpose, for only they fully know the reality of things.

The following is an interview with Shaykh Muḥammad ʿAlī Girāmī Qummī, a well-regarded mujtahid and teacher of the Qumm seminary. Shaykh Girāmī has also become well-known in the past few decades for his inspired istikhārahs, which he regularly conducts in person and by telephone after the maghrib and ʿishāʾ prayers. Born in the year 1317 S.H. (1938 C.E.), he hails from a line of esteemed scholars; his grandfather, the late Shaykh Abu al-Qāsim Kabīr al-Qummī, was among the foremost scholars of Qumm who resided and taught in the city’s seminary even before the arrival of Shaykh Abd al-Karīm Hāʾīrī’s in the year 1301 S.H. (1922 C.E.). Shaykh Girāmī was a student of some of the foremost scholars of the 20^th century, including Sayyid al-Burūjirdī, Imām al-Khumaynī, Sayyid Muḥaqqiq Dāmād, Shaykh Murtaḍā Hāʾirī Yazdī, and Shaykh Farīd Arākī.

The following interview was conducted at the end of 2016 by a French sociologist studying the various social and religious functions of the practice of istikhārah. In it, Shaykh Girāmī explores the nature of the istikhārah, a sanctioned means by which a believer consults God when facing a difficult or perplexing decision. Shaykh Girāmī explains the spiritual grounds of the istikhārah, the various methods of conducting it, and how a seeker should understand and approach it in terms of his decision-making process. The transcript was first published in the Persian-language monthly, Taqrīrāt, and is translated and reprinted here with permission. (Click here for the original Persian-language transcript.)

What is an istikhārah? Is it just a way of seeking the grace and blessings of God?

Istikhārah is of two types: the first is a prayer to attain something desired, which is the [literal meaning of istikhārah, namely] “seeking what is good,” from God. The second type is a means of consulting God, so that He may show us the path that leads to the preferred decision. This second type can be conducted either by means of the Qurʾan or a tasbīḥ (rosary). We have religious evidence that justifies both forms of istikhārah. We know that humans are quite frequently stuck at a crossroads, and must decide and choose how to act. If they are undecided after having reflected deeply and consulted others, they can seek an istikhārah. For example, one can do an istikhārah for a marriage prospect, for an important business transaction, or even for accepting an important responsibility. The istikhārah is a miracle of and a blessing from the Ahl al-Bayt for their Shiʿah during the occultation of the twelfth Imam, and allows them to make good decisions.

On what issues do people request you to conduct an istikhārah?

People will seek an istikhārah for all the various types of issues they may face, issues they cannot resolve or make a decision about on their own. And they see its beneficial results; why else would they continue to seek istikhārahs? I have even had a case where someone sought an istikhārah in a judicial matter, where the judge could not decide which way to rule, and he then turned to an istikhārah. After we conducted the istikhārah, and told him that he has misunderstood the facts of the case, he refrained from his issuing his judgment, went back, reviewed his notes, and saw that what the istikhārah had stated was correct. He was really elated. Afterward, he even came and told us the results of his findings. [Translator note: The istikhārah in this case was not with regard to the judgment itself, since istikhārah is not a valid basis for such a judgment, but rather for the judge’s confidence in his own diligence.]

Did the Prophet Muhammad and the Imams also seek istikhārahs?

Istikhārah is only meant to remove one’s doubt and indecision in a situation. The Prophet and the Imams had access to the wellspring of revelation, and they had access to the unseen (ghayb). They had no need for an istikhārah. They did, however, encourage their followers to seek it; we have numerous reports that the Imams would teach their followers when and how to do istikhārahs, through the Qurʾan, a tasbīḥ, or by other means. But we don’t have any evidence that the Imams would seek an istikhārah for themselves.

Some Christians, particular within the Orthodox churches, will use the Bible to seek an istikhārah. But why do Sunnis not utilize the Qurʾan in this way?

Sunnis have yet to fully benefit from the Qurʾan. They have not benefited fully from the Prophet himself. The Prophet had so many elite companions, but they source so many of their laws and sharʿī rulings in the words of Abu Ḥurayrah, who despite having only spent approximately a year and a half with the Prophet, narrated around 30,000 aḥādīth directly from him. It is even narrated of the second caliph that he severely castigated Abu Ḥurayrah for his extensive fabrication of hadith.

Yet nowadays, many Sunnis, both within Iran and abroad, have sought istikhārahs. A little while ago, a delegation of scholars from the region of Sistan visited and requested a number of them. Even some Christian priests from Tehran have requested istikhārahs.

Is there a preferred time for seeking an istikhārah?

Some say that one such preferred time is Friday afternoon after the midday prayers, among other reported times throughout the week. However, these types of reports seem to not be supported by any religious evidence. The correct view is that God is always listening; His door is always open. My own teacher, ʿAllāmah Ṭabāṭabāʾī, would tell me that he does not accept there to be a preferred time for istikhārahs, and neither do I.

What is the correct intention for seeking an istikhārah?

The person seeking an istikhārah, in his heart and mind, must be in a state of indecision. This is a sufficient prerequisite. He doesn’t need to explicitly state his intent.

What things should a person refrain from seeking an istikhārah for?

If we have consulted others, have not found any definitive intellectual or legislative decree, and are still truly confused about how to deal with a situation, we can seek an istikhārah.

Some Qurʾans indicate the response of the istikhārah, that is, a particular page is labelled as “good,” another “bad,” and another “in-between.” Why are these Qurʾans not used for seeking istikhārahs as frequently anymore?

The istikhārah is not like the other Islamic sciences, like fiqh and usul [al-fiqh], nor like medicine and philosophy; it is not a purely intellectual endeavor. The istikhārah is at its core a matter of spiritual emanation; that is, it is a spiritual connection to the unseen. When such a spiritual connection must be established, universal or automatic answers are void, as are definitive yes’s or no’s indicated at the top of a Qurʾanic page. First, all Qurʾanic verses are fundamentally good. Second, each situation has a particular emanation that is relevant to the verse that appears, a particular relationship that the verse may not have with other events. Some of the proof-texts for the istikhārah from our Imams state the following: ما وقع في قلبه, meaning that we must be attentive to what occurs to our heart. And such occurences are of course not uniform.

So do you consider it incorrect to use such Qurʾans?

Yes.

How can lay people conduct an istikhārah themselves? Can they conduct an istikhārah through the internet or telephone?

The command (by the Imams) to conduct an istikhārah is general, and applies to all. However, the only conclusive and determinative istikhārahs are those conducted by a person who has received an inner permission, whether in a dream or while awake. Even a very knowledgeable scholar may not have been ordained with such a permission. In fact, it is said that Shaykh ʿAbd al-Karīm Hāʾirī would not conduct istikhārahs through the Qurʾan, because he would say, “I don’t know nor understand istikhārahs conducted through the Qurʾan. For example, what should I think of a verse that states ‘[Prophet] Musa (ʿa) said…?’ Is it a positive or a negative sign?” He would, however, conduct istikhārahs for himself and others via the tasbīḥ. The istikhārah is really an example of that spiritual emanation, and requires one to have an inner connection and permission.

So are you saying that one should not conduct istikhārahs by internet or phone?

No. As I mentioned earlier, the istikhārah is a spiritual state that is rooted in one’s deeper connection with the unseen. We cannot expect just anyone to have such a connection.

Can ordinary people conduct istikhārahs through translated Qurʾans?

No. Nor can one even conduct an istikhārah via Arabic Qurʾans. Nor is it possible for just anyone to conduct. It really requires that spiritual connection with the unseen.

Is it required for a person to act according to the results of an istikhārah?

It is not mandatory; however it is abhorrent to go against the results. The person has sought to consult God; he should not then oppose His advice. In this regard, the istikhārah is akin to dream interpretation, for not anyone can interpret dreams correctly, nor does it require a certain level of scholarship. There was, in fact, an illiterate woman in Najaf who could interpret dreams. A scholar once asked her how she acquired this ability. She responded, “I was very poor and sought the intercession of Haḍrat ʿAbbās. I saw a dream where they told me to hold a tasbīḥ, and that they will tell me what to say in response to people’s dreams.” She used to say that someone would just whisper in her ear. Therefore, it really has no connection to knowledge or scholarship. It is really a connection to the unseen.

Is it correct for someone to seek multiple istikhārahs with a single intention?

It is not good to repeatedly seek (for the same decision). The first istikhārah is really the criteria (for decision-making).

Then why do so many people do this sort of repetitive istikhārahs?

They are mistaken. If I find out that a person has already sought an istikhārah for a single intention and issue, I will not conduct the istikhārah.

 Can you describe how you conduct istikhārahs?

It cannot really be explained. It is one form of connecting with God.

Is there a specific method of teaching or conducting istikhārahs among religious scholars?

Our narrations state various methods for conducting the istikhārah, some of which are mentioned in the Mafātīḥ [al-Jinān]. However, this is all just on the outer aspect of the matter. What is important is that inner spiritual connection, which a person may be inspired with in ways that differ from those mentioned in the texts. God can inspire a person in many different ways; He states in the Qurʾan that even the honeybee receives some form of revelation.

Is the istikhārah related to the science of Qurʾanic tafsīr?

To an extent, it is. Tafsīr functions as a necessary introduction to istikhārah; however the istikhārah is not merely a form of tafsīr. A single verse may result in one istikhārah and have a particular interpretation, which may be different from the interpretation of that same verse in another istikhārah. Because of how quickly the istikhārah takes place, some have said about me that I don’t even look at the words of the Qurʾan.

What is the difference between fortune-telling and an istikhārah?

Fortune-telling is really an attempt to prophesy the future. It does not help a person determine what he should do. An istikhārah, however, helps a person decide how to act. It is for a person who does not know which decision to make. In this respect, an istikhārah is like a doctor’s prescription. It is not good to use the Qurʾan to tell one’s fortune. We actually have narrations that proscribe such uses of the Qurʾan.

Do you also seek istikhārahs for your own decisions?

Yes, of course. Very often. For example, I conducted one this morning. I conduct istikhārahs for certain meetings.

Did you conduct an istikhārah for this interview?

I may have conducted an istikhārah for today’s interview.

Sayyid ʿAlī Naqī Naqvī, popularly known as Sayyid al-ʿUlama, was widely considered to be the most prolific and influential mujtahid in the Indian subcontinent of the twentieth century. Originally from Lucknow, India, he hailed from a renowned family of scholars, called Khāndān-e Ijtihād of the Shiʿi Awadh state. He studied in Najaf for many years under the most prominent marājīʿ of his time, including Mirzā Muḥammad Ḥusayn al-Nāʾīnī, Ḍiyāʾ al-Dīn al-ʿIrāqī, and Abu al-Ḥasan al-Isfahānī. He wrote prolifically and spoke widely on a number of key and pressing issues facing the Shiʿi community of the Indian subcontinent. He was also affiliated for many years with Aligarh University as a Reader and as the Dean of Shiʿi Theology.

In this short treatise, Sayyid al-ʿUlamāʾ gives a Qurʾanic biography of the Lord of Martyrs, Imam Ḥusayn (ʿa), and sheds light on the causes of the event of Karbala. In this brief but profound text, he provides an exegesis of the life of Imam Ḥusayn (ʿa) and his heroic martyrdom through particular verses that highlight the most pivotal aspects of the Imam’s life. Meant for a wider audience, the text strips down a lengthy discussion to its fundamentals so as to provide us a striking lesson: that the Imam is the Qurʾan embodied, a claim eminently provable by the following Qurʾanic verses themselves.

The treatise is translated by Dr. Syed Rizwan Zamir, associate professor of religion in Davidson College in Davidson, North Carolina. Dr. Zamir’s Ph.D. dissertation was on the religio-intellectual thought of Sayyid ʿAlī Naqvī and his profound influence on the religious and social landscape of the Shiʿi community in South Asia. The Qurʾanic translations are loosely based on Arberry’s translation of the Qurʾan. 

SECTION I: A Synopsis of the Martyr of Karbalāʾ’s life as Given in the Qurʾan

The Imam's (ʿa) family:

إِنَّمَا يُرِيدُ اللَّـهُ لِيُذْهِبَ عَنكُمُ الرِّجْسَ أَهْلَ الْبَيْتِ وَيُطَهِّرَكُمْ تَطْهِيرًا

His birth:

وَوَصَّيْنَا الْإِنسَانَ بِوَالِدَيْهِ إِحْسَانًا ۖ حَمَلَتْهُ أُمُّهُ كُرْهًا وَوَضَعَتْهُ كُرْهًا ۖ وَحَمْلُهُ وَفِصَالُهُ ثَلَاثُونَ شَهْرًا ۚ حَتَّىٰ إِذَا بَلَغَ أَشُدَّهُ وَبَلَغَ أَرْبَعِينَ سَنَةً قَالَ رَبِّ أَوْزِعْنِي أَنْ أَشْكُرَ نِعْمَتَكَ الَّتِي أَنْعَمْتَ عَلَيَّ وَعَلَىٰ وَالِدَيَّ وَأَنْ أَعْمَلَ صَالِحًا تَرْضَاهُ وَأَصْلِحْ لِي فِي ذُرِّيَّتِي ۖ إِنِّي تُبْتُ إِلَيْكَ وَإِنِّي مِنَ الْمُسْلِمِينَ

His ultimate objective:

لَا شَرِيكَ لَهُ ۖ وَبِذَٰلِكَ أُمِرْتُ وَأَنَا أَوَّلُ الْمُسْلِمِينَ

“No associate has He. Thus have I been commanded, and I am the first of those that surrender.”

Sūrat al-Anʿām (6):163

His journey from Medina:

فَخَرَجَ مِنْهَا خَائِفًا يَتَرَقَّبُ ۖ قَالَ رَبِّ نَجِّنِي مِنَ الْقَوْمِ الظَّالِمِينَ

A minority facing a majority:

A loyal contingent and final farewells:

مِّنَ الْمُؤْمِنِينَ رِجَالٌ صَدَقُوا مَا عَاهَدُوا اللَّـهَ عَلَيْهِ ۖ فَمِنْهُم مَّن قَضَىٰ نَحْبَهُ وَمِنْهُم مَّن يَنتَظِرُ ۖ وَمَا بَدَّلُوا تَبْدِيلًا

Final words of advice:

إِلَّا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا وَعَمِلُوا الصَّالِحَاتِ وَتَوَاصَوْا بِالْحَقِّ وَتَوَاصَوْا بِالصَّبْرِ

The greatness of patience:

الَّذِينَ إِذَا أَصَابَتْهُم مُّصِيبَةٌ قَالُوا إِنَّا لِلَّـهِ وَإِنَّا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ

His final end:

يَا أَيَّتُهَا النَّفْسُ الْمُطْمَئِنَّةُ ﴿٢٧﴾ ارْجِعِي إِلَىٰ رَبِّكِ رَاضِيَةً مَّرْضِيَّةً ﴿٢٨﴾ فَادْخُلِي فِي عِبَادِي ﴿٢٩﴾ وَادْخُلِي جَنَّتِي ﴿٣٠

His eternal life:

الَّذِينَ يَقُولُونَ رَبَّنَا إِنَّنَا آمَنَّا فَاغْفِرْ لَنَا ذُنُوبَنَا وَقِنَا عَذَابَ النَّارِ

Section II: Causes and Reasons of Imam Husayn’s Heroic Acts as Given in God’s Words (i.e., the Qurʾan)

Abraham's (ʿa) prayer,
that there be true guardians of Islam from his progeny:

وَإِذْ يَرْفَعُ إِبْرَاهِيمُ الْقَوَاعِدَ مِنَ الْبَيْتِ وَإِسْمَاعِيلُ رَبَّنَا تَقَبَّلْ مِنَّا ۖ إِنَّكَ أَنتَ السَّمِيعُ الْعَلِيمُ ﴿١٢٧﴾ رَبَّنَا وَاجْعَلْنَا مُسْلِمَيْنِ لَكَ وَمِن ذُرِّيَّتِنَا أُمَّةً مُّسْلِمَةً لَّكَ وَأَرِنَا مَنَاسِكَنَا وَتُبْ عَلَيْنَا ۖ إِنَّكَ أَنتَ التَّوَّابُ الرَّحِيمُ ﴿١٢٨﴾

Abraham’s (ʿa) last will and testament to his children,
that they remain guardians of Islam:

وَوَصَّىٰ بِهَا إِبْرَاهِيمُ بَنِيهِ وَيَعْقُوبُ يَا بَنِيَّ إِنَّ اللَّـهَ اصْطَفَىٰ لَكُمُ الدِّينَ فَلَا تَمُوتُنَّ إِلَّا وَأَنتُم مُّسْلِمُونَ

The greatest fulfilment of Abraham’s (ʿa) prayer,
is the chosen messenger, Muhammad (ṣ), his progeny, and his true followers:

إِنَّ أَوْلَى النَّاسِ بِإِبْرَاهِيمَ لَلَّذِينَ اتَّبَعُوهُ وَهَـٰذَا النَّبِيُّ وَالَّذِينَ آمَنُوا ۗ وَاللَّـهُ وَلِيُّ الْمُؤْمِنِينَ

After the Prophet of Islam,
it was certain that the larger ummah will deviate from the right path:

وَمَا مُحَمَّدٌ إِلَّا رَسُولٌ قَدْ خَلَتْ مِن قَبْلِهِ الرُّسُلُ ۚ أَفَإِن مَّاتَ أَوْ قُتِلَ انقَلَبْتُمْ عَلَىٰ أَعْقَابِكُمْ ۚ وَمَن يَنقَلِبْ عَلَىٰ عَقِبَيْهِ فَلَن يَضُرَّ اللَّـهَ شَيْئًا ۗ وَسَيَجْزِي اللَّـهُ الشَّاكِرِينَ

The Muslims, after gaining power,
did corruption on earth and broke the bonds of love and intimacy:     

فَهَلْ عَسَيْتُمْ إِن تَوَلَّيْتُمْ أَن تُفْسِدُوا فِي الْأَرْضِ وَتُقَطِّعُوا أَرْحَامَكُمْ

Special group to enjoin good.
It is necessary for there to exist a certain group that will exhort people toward goodness and—to the extent possible—forbid evils.

وَلْتَكُن مِّنكُمْ أُمَّةٌ يَدْعُونَ إِلَى الْخَيْرِ وَيَأْمُرُونَ بِالْمَعْرُوفِ وَيَنْهَوْنَ عَنِ الْمُنكَرِ ۚ وَأُولَـٰئِكَ هُمُ الْمُفْلِحُونَ

Strive to oppose evil.
It is such a group whose raison d'etre is precisely to keep striving to oppose these evils: 

وَلِلَّـهِ مَا فِي السَّمَاوَاتِ وَمَا فِي الْأَرْضِ ۚ وَإِلَى اللَّـهِ تُرْجَعُ الْأُمُورُ

This group should never obey those who deny God:

يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا إِن تُطِيعُوا الَّذِينَ كَفَرُوا يَرُدُّوكُمْ عَلَىٰ أَعْقَابِكُمْ فَتَنقَلِبُوا خَاسِرِينَ

One should stay firm on the straight path,
and one should not form bonds with oppressors:

وَلَا تَرْكَنُوا إِلَى الَّذِينَ ظَلَمُوا فَتَمَسَّكُمُ النَّارُ وَمَا لَكُم مِّن دُونِ اللَّـهِ مِنْ أَوْلِيَاءَ ثُمَّ لَا تُنصَرُونَ

They are appointed to always obey God,
the Most Exalted, and no one else:

وَمَا أُمِرُوا إِلَّا لِيَعْبُدُوا اللَّـهَ مُخْلِصِينَ لَهُ الدِّينَ حُنَفَاءَ وَيُقِيمُوا الصَّلَاةَ وَيُؤْتُوا الزَّكَاةَ ۚ وَذَٰلِكَ دِينُ الْقَيِّمَةِ

They were commanded only to serve God, devoting themselves to Him, men of pure faith, and to perform the prayer, and pay the alms—that is the religion of the True.

Mandatory Migration.
If it is not possible to perform one’s duties, one has to abandon one’s homeland:

إِنَّ الَّذِينَ تَوَفَّاهُمُ الْمَلَائِكَةُ ظَالِمِي أَنفُسِهِمْ قَالُوا فِيمَ كُنتُمْ ۖ قَالُوا كُنَّا مُسْتَضْعَفِينَ فِي الْأَرْضِ ۚ قَالُوا أَلَمْ تَكُنْ أَرْضُ اللَّـهِ وَاسِعَةً فَتُهَاجِرُوا فِيهَا ۚ فَأُولَـٰئِكَ مَأْوَاهُمْ جَهَنَّمُ ۖ وَسَاءَتْ مَصِيرًا

One should refuse obedience to anyone other than God,
and in consequence one should not be anxious about loss of home or even death:

كُلُّ نَفْسٍ ذَائِقَةُ الْمَوْتِ ۖ ثُمَّ إِلَيْنَا تُرْجَعُونَ

If necessary, one should stand up and fight:

أُذِنَ لِلَّذِينَ يُقَاتَلُونَ بِأَنَّهُمْ ظُلِمُوا ۚ وَإِنَّ اللَّـهَ عَلَىٰ نَصْرِهِمْ لَقَدِيرٌ ﴿٣٩﴾ الَّذِينَ أُخْرِجُوا مِن دِيَارِهِم بِغَيْرِ حَقٍّ إِلَّا أَن يَقُولُوا رَبُّنَا اللَّـهُ ۗ وَلَوْلَا دَفْعُ اللَّـهِ النَّاسَ بَعْضَهُم بِبَعْضٍ لَّهُدِّمَتْ صَوَامِعُ وَبِيَعٌ وَصَلَوَاتٌ وَمَسَاجِدُ يُذْكَرُ فِيهَا اسْمُ اللَّـهِ كَثِيرًا ۗ وَلَيَنصُرَنَّ اللَّـهُ مَن يَنصُرُهُ ۗ إِنَّ اللَّـهَ لَقَوِيٌّ عَزِيزٌ ﴿٤٠﴾ الَّذِينَ إِن مَّكَّنَّاهُمْ فِي الْأَرْضِ أَقَامُوا الصَّلَاةَ وَآتَوُا الزَّكَاةَ وَأَمَرُوا بِالْمَعْرُوفِ وَنَهَوْا عَنِ الْمُنكَرِ ۗ وَلِلَّـهِ عَاقِبَةُ الْأُمُورِ ﴿٤١﴾

Even if killed, God’s Will is more precious than the blessings of this world:

يَا أَيُّهَا الَّذِينَ آمَنُوا لَا تَكُونُوا كَالَّذِينَ كَفَرُوا وَقَالُوا لِإِخْوَانِهِمْ إِذَا ضَرَبُوا فِي الْأَرْضِ أَوْ كَانُوا غُزًّى لَّوْ كَانُوا عِندَنَا مَا مَاتُوا وَمَا قُتِلُوا لِيَجْعَلَ اللَّـهُ ذَٰلِكَ حَسْرَةً فِي قُلُوبِهِمْ ۗ وَاللَّـهُ يُحْيِي وَيُمِيتُ ۗ وَاللَّـهُ بِمَا تَعْمَلُونَ بَصِيرٌ

In the end, victory is for the folks of God:

كَتَبَ اللَّـهُ لَأَغْلِبَنَّ أَنَا وَرُسُلِي ۚ إِنَّ اللَّـهَ قَوِيٌّ عَزِيزٌ