al-Ḥashr 59:21

Law anzalnā hādha'l-qurʾāna ʿalā jabalin la-raʾaytahū khāshiʿan mutaṣaddiʿan min khashyatillāh, wa tilka'l-amthālu naḍribuhā li'l-nāsi laʿallahum yatafakkarūn

"Had We sent this Qurʾān down upon a mountain, you would have seen it humbled and split apart out of the fear of God. These likenesses We set forth for people, that they may perhaps reflect."

The verse opens with لَوْ. In Arabic law is different from in: in sets up a possible condition, law an unrealised one — and, because it has not been realised, it reports that its consequence has not been realised either. The lexicographers call this ḥarf al-imtināʿ li'l-imtināʿ: one thing's not happening because of another thing's not happening.

That is, the first thing the verse reports is this: the Qurʾān was not sent down upon a mountain.

This may be more important than the apparent subject of the sentence (the cracking of the mountain). The construction marks what is by recounting what is not: the place it was sent down upon is not a mountain but a human being.

The verse does not make this comparison openly. It does not say "the mountain would have cracked, but you did not crack". The reading of the sentence in this direction is widespread in the classical commentaries and the context supports it; even so, I record that this is an inference and is not present in the wording of the verse.

هَٰذَا — the demonstrative of nearness. The text points to itself: "this Qurʾān".

This is not a definition but a showing. The verse does not recount what the Qurʾān is; it points at the thing standing in the hand, being recited, and has its weight measured against a mountain.

The root ق-ر-أ was analysed in Sūrat al-ʿAlaq (al-ʿAlaq) and that analysis will not be repeated here. Let only this be recalled: the root has been explained both in the direction of reading and in that of gathering / bringing together.

Let us recall the vocabulary of the sūra. From the beginning this text has been built upon hard and durable things:

The sūra, having enumerated one by one all the solid structures man has built, brings in the most solid thing man has not built. And it cracks that too.

This arrangement is a reading of my own; it is not claimed that the sūra observes such an order. But that the words are present in the text is a datum that can be verified.

And its link with the first verses is this: in the second verse a community had supposed that its fortresses would protect it (māniʿatuhum ḥuṣūnuhum minallāh). The fortresses could not protect. The twenty-first verse finishes the same idea with the most extreme instance: being fortified is not itself a guarantee.

The root خ-ش-ع. The definition the lexicographers give: lowering, cowering, bending. The word is close in meaning to khuḍūʿ (bowing the neck); the lexicographers record the difference between them thus: khuḍūʿ appears in the body, khushūʿ more in the voice and in the eye.

The use of the root having to do with the soil is important: الأرض الخاشعة — dried, sunken, lowered ground. At Fuṣṣilat 41/39, wa min āyātihī annaka tara'l-arḍa khāshiʿatan — "that you see the earth with its neck bent". There the earth comes to life when water arrives.

That is, the word is not a word of "fear" but a word of appearance: a lowering from a height, the going of uprightness. Its use for a mountain is therefore apt — the description of a mountain is height itself.

The root ص-د-ع. The concrete sense: the splitting of a hard thing. The lexicographers record that the root is used especially of solid bodies — glass, stone, bone.

The occurrences of the root in the Qurʾān have come before us in three further places in this commentary:

The root always does the same work: the coming apart of a thing that was whole. What changes is what it is that comes apart.

The pattern too is meaningful: mutaṣaddiʿ is the active participle of Form V (tafaʿʿul). In Arabic this form conveys gradualness and coming about upon itself. That is, not "shattered all at once" but coming apart crack by crack.

The two adjectives together set up a sequence: first bending (khāshiʿ), then splitting (mutaṣaddiʿ). Enduring, then breaking.

The root خ-ش-ي. There are three principal words used for fear in the Qurʾān, and the differences between them have been recorded by the lexicographers:

The distinguishing aspect of khashya is that it carries a component of knowledge: a person fears because he knows what he is up against. At Fāṭir 35/28, innamā yakhsha'llāha min ʿibādihi'l-ʿulamāʾ — this is the clearest record of the distinction within the Qurʾān.

And this sets up a contrast with the rahba of verse 13. What was said about the hypocrites was this: in their breasts the dread of you is stronger than the dread of God — and its ground was lā yafqahūn (they do not understand).

The two verses together set up a single equation: he who does not understand fears the wrong thing; he who understands fears the right thing. And the mountain is put forward as the place where understanding is made concrete.

This joining is my own reading, and it rests on the shared root-vocabulary of the two verses; it is not claimed that the sūra set it up deliberately.

The root ض-ر-ب — "to strike a likeness". The verb used for a likeness in Arabic is ḍarb: to strike, to beat.

The lexicographers explain this use in several ways; the most widespread is the image of striking a coin: a metal is struck and a shape comes out upon it. So it is with a likeness — a mould is struck upon what is abstract and it becomes visible. I transmit this explanation in the form in which the lexicographers record it, not as a definite ruling.

تِلْكَ — the demonstrative of distance. In the preceding sentence hādhā (near) was used; here tilka (far).

This shift shows that what is pointed at has changed: hādhā points to the Qurʾān standing in the hand; tilka to the likenesses left behind.

And it comes in the plural: ٱلْأَمْثَٰل. Yet what is recounted in this verse is a single likeness. The reason for the plural is that the verse gathers up not only itself but the whole of the section:

Three parables have come one after another, and the twenty-first verse closes all three at once. This is the mark of the end of a section: from here on the text will come out of parables and pass to the names.

The root ف-ك-ر. The lexicographers describe fikr as "to turn a thing over and over in the mind, to walk it round". The pattern is again Form V (tafakkur): continuity, and a work the person carries out upon himself.

The closeness in sound of the root to ف-ر-ك (to rub, to crumble) has been recorded by some lexicographers. I transmit this link as a possibility; I do not present it as a definite relation of derivation. If it is right, the image the root carries is this: to break a thing up by rubbing it in the hand, to separate its parts.

And this overlaps in an interesting way with the verbs of the verse: the mountain becomes mutaṣaddiʿ — it splits, it is broken into pieces. What is asked of man is tafakkur — to separate a thing into its parts in the mind.

I record this parallel between the two verbs as my own reading. The verse sets up no such link; but that both words carry an image of "coming apart" can be drawn from the definitions the lexicographers give.

لَعَلَّ — "perhaps". This particle comes very often in the Qurʾān, and in most places it functions not as a hope but as the leaving open of the door. The verse does not say "they will reflect"; it says that reflection is possible and that the text has been given for it. The outcome is not guaranteed.