By Heraclitus Herac
Every few years, a new intellectual convulsion emerges: Iqbal was a great philosopher, we have failed to understand him, and now is the time to truly disseminate his ideas. Then, an impassioned speaker proclaims that we have neglected Iqbal, and that his “true vision” must now be realized. The problem is that if a thinker’s ideas require endless reinterpretation, either those ideas are so complex that the average mind cannot grasp them, or they were never grounded in a stable intellectual framework to begin with. And if they lack stability, then every new Iqbal scholar adds their own interpretative seasoning, presenting a fresh dish for the nation—one that is, in essence, the same old stew served with a different flavor.
This is precisely the issue with Iqbal. His admirers are perpetually preoccupied with proving him to be a philosopher, despite the fundamental difference between being a philosopher and merely possessing a philosophical temperament. The gap between the two is as vast as that between earth and sky. Socrates, Plato, Kant, Hegel, and Descartes were philosophers because they not only introduced new perspectives on thought but also constructed systematic intellectual frameworks to support those perspectives. Iqbal, on the other hand, was a thinker whose poetry exhibits philosophical undertones but does not constitute a coherent school of thought. A philosopher’s work is to construct a structured, reasoned intellectual edifice, whereas Iqbal’s ideas are predominantly intuitive and rhetorical. If Iqbal is to be considered a philosopher, then anyone who articulates profound thoughts on a complex subject must also be granted the same title.
Iqbal’s critics have long emphasized this point. In his book The Reality of Modernism, Wahiduddin Khan states:
“The greatest issue with Iqbal’s thought is that it does not rest on a stable ideological foundation. He simultaneously attempts to synthesize religious reform, nationalism, Sufism, and various strands of Western philosophy, yet fails to produce a coherent philosophical system.”
Fazlur Rahman, in Islam and Modernity, writes:
“It is difficult to classify Iqbal’s ideas as philosophy because they lack logical and argumentative continuity. His poetry exudes passion and rhetorical force, but the fundamental task of a philosopher is to develop a theory grounded in reasoned argumentation—something that remains fragmented in Iqbal’s work.”
J.N. Sherman, in Iqbal and Philosophy, similarly argues:
“To consider Iqbal a philosopher is essentially a mistake. He is a poet who employs philosophy within his verse, yet his ideas lack the internal coherence and systematic development necessary to be recognized as a distinct philosophical doctrine. He is influenced simultaneously by Nietzsche, Bergson, and Rumi, yet does not fully realize the intellectual trajectory of any one of them.”
Now, let us examine Iqbal’s own thought. In his book The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam, he writes:
“Religious experience is fundamentally an emotional state that also encompasses an intellectual dimension. The intellectual progression and transformation of this experience necessitate the creation of new religious concepts.”
Yet, elsewhere in the same book, he asserts:
“The ultimate aim of the self is not merely to perceive something, but to become something.”
(Note: The references for both excerpts are provided in the screenshot. If you can read English, you may verify them yourself, including the page numbers. I have not added anything of my own—only translated them. If you believe the translation is inaccurate, you are welcome to provide a more precise version for further clarity.)
Thus, on the one hand, Iqbal advocates for the rational and intellectual evolution of religious thought, while on the other, he presents the philosophy of khudi (selfhood) as a mystical and existential experience. The question then arises: What is the fundamental trajectory of Iqbal’s thought? Does he seek a rational reconstruction of religious philosophy, or does he regard the mystical self as the ultimate truth? His thought certainly possesses an oratorical fervor, yet it lacks a stable foundation of logical argumentation. This is precisely why, every few years, a new interpreter of Iqbal emerges, claiming to unveil the “true” essence of his philosophy—only to repackage and reiterate the same ideas in different words.
Herbert Bergson, in Iqbal’s Contradictions, expresses it thus:
“Iqbal’s thought is riddled with a persistent contradiction. At times, he emphasizes the supremacy of reason, while at others, he exalts intuitive experience as the ultimate truth. This inconsistency undermines the stability of his intellectual framework.”
Each generation acknowledges that Iqbal’s ideas have yet to be fully understood, and this very acknowledgment serves as an implicit admission that his thought does not adhere to a clear philosophical system but instead operates as a fluid and rhetorical discourse—one that each interpreter molds into their preferred narrative. This is why we experience these periodic convulsions, while the nation remains stagnant. A new orator arrives, delivers a new speech, and we all nod in agreement as if we are on the verge of discovering an entirely new Iqbal.
Now, does rejecting Iqbal’s status as a philosopher mean that his ideas lack value? Not at all! Iqbal holds an esteemed position as a great thinker and poet who was acutely aware of the intellectual crisis facing the Muslim world. However, forcibly equating him with Socrates or Hegel is as misguided as attempting to place Ghalib on the same plane as Milton. True greatness must be assessed within its proper context, rather than through sentimental glorification.
So, the next time someone claims, “We have not yet understood Iqbal,” simply ask them: “Did previous generations not say the same? And will the next generation not say it again?”
Note: The “Qalam Club” does not necessarily agree with the personal views of the authors
