al-Qalam 68:17-20

Innā balawnāhum kamā balawnā aṣḥāba'l-jannati idh aqsamū la-yaṣrimunnahā muṣbiḥīn — wa lā yastathnūn — fa-ṭāfa ʿalayhā ṭāʾifun min rabbika wa hum nāʾimūn — fa-aṣbaḥat ka'l-ṣarīm "We have tried them as We tried the owners of the garden, when they swore that they would harvest it in the morning and made no exception. While they slept, something from your Lord went round it, and by morning it was as though it had been reaped black."

First this must be established: the narrative is not an interruption but an example.

The connective says so: إِنَّا بَلَوْنَاهُمْ كَمَا بَلَوْنَا — "We tried them … as We tried…"

To whom does the pronoun hum refer? To the deniers of the preceding section — and in particular to the man who calls the verses tales because he owns wealth.

So the narrative enters as a comparison: "your situation resembles this."

بَلَوْنَا — root ب-ل-و. Treated in the discussion of al-Baqara 2/49, with a layer added in the discussion of al-Mulk 67/2: "the original sense of the root is to wear out, to use up… The Arabs tested a thing's durability by using it."

And the past tense of the verb is worth noting: balawnāhum — we tried. The trial, then, is over and done with. The rich of Mecca have already been tried; the narrative shows the result of the trial.

جَنَّة — root ج-ن-ن. The same root as the majnūn of the second verse; recorded earlier. The finding in the discussion of al-Baqara 2/25: "janna — a garden that covers the ground with its trees."

Here the word has its lexical sense: a garden. Not the garden of the hereafter; a real, wooded, productive garden.

أَصْحَاب — root ص-ح-ب. Treated in the discussion of al-Takwīr: to be together, to keep company. Aṣḥāb means those named together with something.

And the fine point of the construct is here, as my own reading: the men are named not "the owners of the garden" but "the companions of the garden". In Arabic aṣḥāb al-janna does convey ownership as well; but the idea of togetherness at the root of the word suggests that the men have become identified with the garden. Their identity is named by what they own.

And the question of what is left when the garden is gone will be answered at the end of the narrative.

On the historical setting of the narrative: there are reports about where and when the narrative took place; a particular place and a particular community are named. I do not write these names, because I cannot vouch for them and because they are not needed for the narrative's function. The Qurʾān too gives no place and no name — this may be taken as a sign that the narrative is built as an example.

أَقْسَمُوا۟ — root ق-س-م. To swear. And the original sense of the root is to divide, to apportion (qisma, taqsīm are from the same root). That an oath should be named by this root has to do, as the lexicographers transmit, with the swearer's staking a share or with the matter's being definitively separated out. I transmit this explanation without any claim to certainty.

And now a link within the sūra: in the tenth verse the portrait's first attribute was حَلَّاف — the great swearer.

The men in the narrative swear too. The same act, a different word, the same behaviour.

The narrative dramatises the portrait's first attribute, as my own reading. What the oaths of a man who swears a great deal come to is seen in the narrative: in a single night they come to nothing.

صَرَمَ — root ص-ر-م. To cut, to sever. And the word's principal use is for harvest: cutting fruit from the branch and gathering it. Ṣirām — the time of picking. From the same root come ṣarīm (cut off, severed) and ṣarrām.

The root's second sense: to cut off a relationship. Ṣarama raḥimahu — he severed the tie of kinship. In Turkish the root should not be confused with sarım / sarmak; the resemblance is accidental and the words are unrelated.

That the two senses live in one root will acquire meaning at the end of the narrative.

Note that the verb is emphatic: لَيَصْرِمُنَّهَا — with the lām and the heavy nūn. That is, not "we shall gather it" but "we shall most certainly and without fail gather it." The resolve is built into the grammar.

مُصْبِحِين — having entered upon the morning. Root ṣ-b-ḥ; aṣbaḥa was treated in the discussion of al-Mulk 67/30.

And this word occurs three times in the narrative: 17 (muṣbiḥīn), 21 (muṣbiḥīn), 22 (ighdū — go out early). The narrative, then, turns about the word morning.

The reason is the construction of the narrative, as my own reading: the disaster happens by night and is discovered in the morning. And the men had planned for the morning. The plan belongs to the morning, the disaster to the night.

The most discussed place in the narrative, and a verse standing on its own.

Root: ث-ن-ي. To bend, to fold in two, to turn. Ithnā — two; tathniya — the dual. Istithnāʾ — to set something apart from the general, to leave it outside.

But what did they not except?

The view of the overwhelming majority of classical exegesis: they did not say in shāʾ Allāh. That is, in saying "we shall certainly harvest it in the morning" they did not add the note "if God wills".

And this reading has very strong support from within the Qurʾān:

"Do not say of anything, 'I shall certainly do this tomorrow' — unless you say 'if God wills'." (al-Kahf 18/23-24)

The overlap between the two texts is striking:

The verse in al-Kahf gives the command; the narrative in al-Qalam shows the outcome for one who breaks it. I record this link; I make no claim that the two texts refer deliberately to one another.

A second view is also recorded: the expression "they made no exception" may be saying that they did not set aside the poor man's share. That is, they abandoned the custom of setting aside a portion of the harvest.

Both are defensible and they do not exclude one another. I prefer the first view — the overlap with the verse in al-Kahf is a strong ground. It is not binding; the second view makes a tighter link with the continuation of the narrative and is not weak.

This note has to be made, because the phrase has worn thin in everyday use.

In shāʾ Allāh mostly does two jobs in ordinary speech: it expresses a wish ("in shāʾ Allāh it will pass off well") and it provides an escape ("in shāʾ Allāh I'll come" = probably I won't).

What was missing in the narrative is neither of these.

What was missing is a note of fact: the future is not in my hands.

And this is not a matter of prayer but of framing a true sentence. The sentence "tomorrow I shall do this" assumes that tomorrow is in one's own hands. The assumption is false. The note makes the sentence true.

I add this as my own reading: what is punished in the narrative is not a missing prayer but an error about reality. The men made plans relying on an authority they did not have.

And the continuation of the narrative confirms it: the garden really was not in their hands.

A caution: no conclusion of the kind "planning is wrong" follows from this. The men's error was not that they planned; it was that they built the plan in the mood of certainty. La-yaṣrimunnahā — two separate instruments of emphasis have been used.

Root: ط-و-ف. To turn about, to circle, to encompass. Ṭawāf — circling the Kaʿba; ṭāʾifa — a group (those who go about together).

And the word-choice of the verse is extremely careful:

• What it was is not said: ṭāʾifun — "something that went round". Indefinite, unnamed.
• What it did is not said: only "it went round".
• Where it came from is said: min rabbika — "from your Lord".

So the verse hides the agent and the manner of the event and gives only its source.

This is a choice of style and its effect is as follows, as my own reading: what the disaster was (fire? flood? wind? insects?) is made unimportant. The only thing that matters is where it came from.

The classical exegetes offer conjectures as to what the ṭāʾif was — a fire, a calamity, a wind. I do not transmit these conjectures, because the verse does not say, and its not saying looks deliberate.

And the worship-related sense of the word ṭawāf produces an echo here: the same verb is used for circling the Kaʿba. Here something circles the garden. I record this as an observation about the word; I make no claim that the verse intends the association.

وَهُمْ نَآئِمُونَ — "while they slept".

This note is the narrative's quietest emphasis. The men made their plan and went to sleep. And the plan collapsed while they slept.

Sleep is a person's most defenceless state, and the Qurʾān uses this elsewhere too. But its function here is different, as my own reading: sleep is the moment when control leaves one's hands. In saying "certainly, in the morning", the men had not reckoned with the night that lay between.

And they could not see what happened inside that night — because they were asleep.

And now a play on words — but the Qurʾān's kind of play on words.

The men had sworn to صرم the garden (to harvest it).

The garden became صريم.

The same root. The act and the outcome from one word.

On the sense of the word صَرِيم there is disagreement, and the views must be recorded:

The views differ but the outcome is the same: nothing was left in the garden.

And the real point does not change, whichever sense is taken:

The men swore to cut the garden; the garden was cut. The oath was fulfilled — but not by them.

I record this as the sharpest irony of the narrative. What they wanted happened; the work they wanted done was done. Only the doer changed.

And this was exactly what was missing in the eighteenth verse: they did not say "if God wills". God willed, and the garden was cut — but not as they had willed it.