Bismillah al-Rahman al-Rahim

The Quran says: “And of everything We have created pairs.” (51:49)
It also says: “Humankind has been created in tension” (90:4)
And also: “Fighting has been ordained upon you, though you dislike it” (2:216)

Polarity, tension, and struggle are constitutive of humanity as a creature of Allah. In principle as humans, our perspective on things is limited. We perceive the world as a collection of beings which are consistent in themselves. We tend to see things, but not the relationships between them, nor what truly sustains them. This is not because of any defect of ours, but rather because they are presented to our perception in this way. We see polarity, not unity. Thenceforth arises the tension and necessity of struggle to overcome this state of duality.

Tension, polarity, and struggle tend to spill over into external existence when we are governed by the ego, which positions itself as the ruler over all that exists. We then behave like brutes. We are then cruel and rude, self-centered and destructive. The more we are governed by the dualist mind, the more solid the oppositions appear to be. The more we allow ourselves to be drawn in by what has been created, the more the tension builds. As we insist ever more firmly in the separation of our ego from the rest of creation, we drive ourselves ever deeper into an unending succession of confrontations and view life as a fight for survival. It is well known that only the strongest win in that fight.

Nevertheless, polarity, tension, and struggle may also be resolved in the harmony between opposites and a dynamic peace when we open ourselves up to others and dethrone the ego through good and beautiful actions: being a companion to someone, making a gift, visiting someone who is sick, answering pleasantly, being charitable, choosing to act nobly. The Quran says, “Spend on others!”. In Islam, we have found the path of community and faithful commitment to the divine. Islam is not about keeping a ledger of virtues and vices, but how we respond to each situation, our essential attitude towards life.

In any case, polarization and confrontation do not disappear. As long as there is Islam, there is kufr. If there is beauty, there is ugliness. If there is generosity, there is selfishness. If there is good, there is evil. If there is light, there is darkness. And none of them are as far apart from each other as the dualist mind thinks. They exist within us as latent possibilities that can be activated in one direction or another. No one is saved from behaving like a brute by simply proclaiming oneself to be a Muslim.

Therefore, to navigate this plane we need criteria that allow us to discern, standards of interaction, applicable values, rituals that connect us with Allah, laws that protect the weak and guarantee the rights of minorities, and institutions that fight against usury, distribute wealth, and guarantee the preservation of the environment. On this plane, revelation is considered to be a law that governs relationships between beings. Allah is al-Malik, the King that rules over all things. He is above everything. We owe him obedience. The basis of law is justice: avoiding oppression and ensuring equity. Allah is just, al-Adl. The symbol of justice is the balance scale: give each being its rights and maintain balance. This is what comprises Islam as a tradition of universal wisdom. It is the masculine divine.

But Allah is not only a Sovereign seated on the throne of his omnipotence. He is also al-Wadūd, the loving. And he is al-Rahman, a lifegiving womb that cradles us and from which we receive inspiration, encouragement, and guidance. It is possible for us to be in Islam without having established intimacy with Allah. To do so, we must go one step further, if it pleases Allah. This step must not be obligatory because here another law governs us. The Quran says that the rahma (mercy) of Allah “encompasses all things” (7:156) and that Allah “has prescribed for Himself rahma (mercy)” (6:54). Rahma is related to rahâm, which means uterus or womb. We can translate the names “al-Rahman al-Rahim” as “as the womb.” It is the divine feminine. It is the feminine divine.

The practice of contemplation activates us in this direction, or rather it makes us receptive and heightens our sensitivity. We abdicate our sovereignty, if only for a time. The mind surrenders. It does not disappear, but it makes room for vision. We descend from the plane of duality toward the womb of existence. We understand that existence brings forth the opposites that imprison us. Both good and evil come from Allah, though the ego may struggle to accept it. We become intimate with divinity. The Quran says: “and when my servants ask you concerning me, tell them I am quite near.” (2:186). Allah is within all of creation.

Allah is always close to us, but humans are forgetful and easily taken in by creation. In order to experience closeness with Allah, moments of recollection in which we try to create a space free of representations, emptying the mind and clearing our gaze. The archetype is the Prophet in the cave of Hira: a womb in the mountain. The womb we enter is not our mother’s but rather the universal womb. In the silence of the cave, we connect with the heart and feel the revitalizing presence of Allah. We breathe, and we experience the fact that we are creatures of flesh into which the divine has breathed life: we are also spiritual beings. We understand that In the divine womb there is no separation. We are astounded by the unity of existence, a stratum that precedes all polarizations. We learn to see with a lover’s consciousness, inshallah.

In contemplation, we glimpse unity. We learn to see the world as theophany. We discover that all of the polarities that we had perceived as constant have their origin in divine unity. This is tantamount to seeing Allah in His unity, without separating His womb-like character from his sovereignty, His rigor from His compassion, His Majesty from His Beauty. It is at once immanent to and transcendent of creation. We discover that difference and polarity are not the origins of creation, but rather its effects. What were once concrete oppositions reveal themselves to be relative. Taoists speak of the leveling of all things.

This makes us flexible, as we learn to see the Islam in kufr, and the kufr in Islam. At this point, a profound empathy is awakened in us for other beings, whoever they are, whatever their nature may be. The challenge is to bring that compassionate gaze into the world of polarity, in learning to see conflicts not with our ego, but through the consciousness of the unity that lies beneath them. We then see the kufr as our brother in Allah, and instead of desiring with all our heart to defeat him, we wish to see him awaken to righteousness and beauty. Islamic tradition speaks of converting even Shaitan himself to Islam. Without ceasing to struggle, it is this compassionate gaze that makes peace possible. Not the peace of the victorious, in which someone is always on top, but the peace of Allah, the peace of understanding between opposing sides.

Everything in its right place: respect the other’s haqiqa, intrinsic truth and rightfulness. Treat everything as a creation of the divine. Care for oneself and for others. This is what allows us to live a just, balanced life inshallah. Each of us must reach this equilibrium in ourselves so that it may be reflected in our actions. At the emotional level, it is about integrating the masculine and feminine dimensions and achieving the union of opposites within ourselves. As a wise man once said, “Allah is known for bringing opposites together.” This is not something that can be achieved instantaneously. There is much work to be done: the great jihad, the struggle to better ourselves, inshallah.