Iqbal's duel with Hafiz as interpreted by Bijnori

Bijnori's critique of Asrar-e-Khudi and Rumuz-e-Bekhudi, a luminous literary reflection of Iqbal's metaphysics

In the formative years of the 20th century, as the Muslim world grappled with colonial fragmentation and spiritual ennui, Allama Muhammad Iqbal emerged as an intellectual seismograph - his pen trembled with the vibrations of a collapsing tradition and the longing for renewal. Dr Abdur Rahman Bijnori's early critique, published in 1918, of Asrar-e-Khudi and Rumuz-e-Bekhudi remains a luminous literary reflection that not only assesses Iqbal's poetic vision but positions it as the herald of a new Islamic ethos. Dr Bijnori does not approach Iqbal with hesitant reverence. Instead, he boldly identifies him as a messiah, stirring "the dead with life". The Persian Masnavis, he suggests, do not merely echo the rhythmic beauty of Jalaluddin Rumi. They pulse with the energy of action, realism, and spiritual confidence. If Ghalib planted the seeds of doubt and Hali mourned the ruins, then Iqbal builds a luminous citadel atop those ruins. Iqbal's verses are described as possessing muscular elegance — "words which sparkle like diamonds set in the hilt of a sword". Bijnori finds in Asrar-e-Khudi an ethical realism built on willpower, dignity, and creative expression, and in Rumuz-e-Bekhudi the scaffolding for a theology of collectivity grounded in Shariat, love, and metaphysical discipline.

One of the most compelling dimensions of the critique lies in Bijnori's treatment of Iqbal's metaphysical sparring. Iqbal's refusal to romanticise neo-Sufism, particularly the diluted mysticism that flirts with monism and escapism, is celebrated as bold and necessary. Bijnori aligns with Iqbal's disapproval of mystical philosophies that obscure Islamic activism and promote ascetic nihilism. Iqbal's intellectual duel with Hafiz, the poet of wine and passive joy, is interpreted not as blasphemy but as a reclamation of Islamic agency. Echoing Saint Ahmad Sirhindi, Bijnori reminds us: "The vision of God cannot be carved in wood or called before the eyes of the body or mind." Thus, for Iqbal, Shariat, not ecstatic abstraction, is the highway to the Divine.

In a masterful section, Bijnori explores the fusion of Nietzschean thought into Iqbal's Masnavis. While acknowledging influences, particularly the allegory of the coal and the diamond, he contends that Iqbal transcends Nietzsche, crafting a diamond polished by prophetic vision rather than Western despair. Iqbal's critique of Machiavelli's Prince, his mourning over fragmented Islamic nations, and his yearning for a "larger state" reveal a poetic diplomacy guided by love rather than territorial politics. For Iqbal, patriotism and pan-Islamism are not contradictions but twin eagles guiding the Muslim soul skyward.

Bijnori also praises Iqbal's choice of Persian, not Urdu, as the linguistic vehicle of his message. Far from limiting the audience, Persian allows Iqbal to revive a classical tradition, uniting beauty with ideological strength. In a time when Persian literature was languishing in Iran, Iqbal's Masnavis strike the rock like Moses, pouring forth spiritual clarity. His language is no longer the ornate burden of Bedil, but the vibrant cadence of Rumi reimagined for a modern age. To Bijnori, Iqbal's contribution is nothing short of literary alchemy — transforming despair into determination, lyricism into legislation.