WORDS OR REALITY
Rabindranath Tagore (1861–1941) was awarded the title of “Sir” by the British government in 1915. But in 1919, when the British carried out a brutal massacre of unarmed Indians at Amritsar, Tagore returned the title.
Dr. Muhammad Iqbal (1877–1938) was given the same title in 1922. He accepted it—and never gave it back.
Personally, I do not consider accepting the title of “Sir” to be wrong. But, given the kind of themes Iqbal expressed in his poetry, the British honour seemed completely out of place for him. For example, he wrote:
Nahin tera nasheman qasr-e-sultani ke gunbad par
Tu shaheen hai, baseera kar paharon ki chatanon mein
Your dwelling is not on the dome of a royal palace;
You are an eagle—make your home on the rocky peaks of mountains.
By his own standard, taking the title of “Sir” was the same as building a nest on the dome of a royal palace. He urged others to avoid such “nest-building,” but in his own case, he kept his nest there until the very end.
This example illustrates the state of the leaders who emerged among Muslims in modern times. Almost all Muslim leaders of the present age were essentially either poets, like Iqbal, or orators, like Muhammad Ali, or writers, like Abul A’la Maududi. They were not thinkers or men of mature insight, as true leaders ought to be. Poetry, oratory, and literary writing are, in fact, merely different forms of verbal expression. As a result, these leaders continued to display brilliance in words, but in terms of the realities of life, they failed to provide Muslims with sound and meaningful direction.
The result of this imaginary leadership was that while the leaders built up their own personalities, the affairs of the entire community were ruined. A man who puts on shows of empty brilliance may well make newspaper headlines, but such performances do nothing to build the future of a nation.
