al-Qalam 68:51-52

Wa in yakādu'lladhīna kafarū la-yuzliqūnaka bi-abṣārihim lammā samiʿū'l-dhikra wa yaqūlūna innahu la-majnūn — wa mā huwa illā dhikrun li'l-ʿālamīn "When they heard the Reminder, those who deny would almost have felled you with their looks, and they say, 'he is certainly possessed'. Yet it is nothing but a reminder for all beings."

The verb كَادَ was treated in the discussion of al-Mulk 67/8: "kāda describes what does not happen. The man who says 'he almost fell' has not fallen."

And it is the same here: the looks do not fell the Prophet; they stop at the threshold of felling.

And there is an overlap between the two sūras, as my own reading: at al-Mulk 67/8 the Fire "would almost burst apart with rage". At al-Qalam 68/51 the deniers "would almost fell you with their looks". In both places the same verb, in the same function: a threshold that is not crossed.

إِن is here taken not as the negative particle but as the lightened inna, and together with the lām it forms an emphasis: wa in yakādu… la-yuzliqūnaka.

Root: ز-ل-ق. And the concrete sense of the root is to slip, to make slip. Zaliqa — he slipped; zalaq — slippery ground, ground on which one cannot stand.

The Qurʾān uses this word in another place: at al-Kahf 18/40 it speaks of a garden becoming ṣaʿīdan zalaqā (slippery, bare soil).

And this occurrence is worth noting, because it is akin to this very sūra's garden narrative: in both garden narratives in al-Kahf too the garden is destroyed in a single night and turns into slippery ground.

A variant reading: the word has been read in the forms لَيُزْلِقُونَكَ and لَيُزْهِقُونَكَ; the second comes from the root z-h-q and gives the sense "to destroy, to take the life out of". I record it, but since I cannot state with certainty which reading belongs to which authority, I write no name.

And what the expression describes is disputed. There are two main readings:

On this I state no definite preference, and I write the ground plainly:

The matter of the evil eye is a subject on which there are reports and which has a place in the tradition. In this commentary it is neither denied nor set up as a doctrine — because either would be to say more than this verse says.

What I can draw from the wording of the verse is this: a look can be intense enough to unseat a person. And the verse records that that intensity did not take effect (yakādu).

And I record one further observation, as my own reading: the context of the verse is not the physical effect of a look but being hemmed in. Throughout the sūra the Prophet has been targeted with words (the charge of being possessed), pressed towards compromise (idhān), had a portrait drawn around him. The last verse describes the quietest form of pressure: the look.

A word can be answered; a look cannot.

And the cause of the look is stated: hearing.

سَمِعَ — root س-م-ع. Treated in the discussion of al-Mulk 67/10, where this finding was made: "The Qurʾān uses this word on two levels: the act of the ear, and acceptance."

And here the first level applies: they heard, but they did not accept.

It is worth comparing the sentence at al-Mulk 67/10: there those in the Fire were saying "had we listened or used our reason". Here, in this world, they hear — and their response is a look.

What emerges when the two verses are read together is this, as my own reading: the opposite of hearing is not deafness but hostility. Those in the Fire will say "we did not hear"; but they did hear, and they responded. Responding is the proof of hearing.

And the sūra closes with the word of its second verse.

The sūra opens with the same word and closes with the same word. In Arabic rhetoric this structure is called radd al-ʿajuz ʿalā'l-ṣadr (returning the end to the beginning).

And the difference between the two verses is one of mood:

• The second verse: a negative declarative sentence — it rejects.
• The fifty-first verse: doubly reinforced with inna and the lām — the other side insists.

So for fifty verses proofs have been set out, a portrait has been drawn, a narrative told, questions asked — and the other side still says the same thing. And louder.

I record this as my own reading and add the following: the sūra's ending in this way is not a declaration of failure; it is a record of reality. Proofs are not obliged to persuade. And the sūra had already said this in the fifth verse: "soon you will see, and they will see."

And the last sentence of the sūra lifts the whole dispute off its ground.

The structure of the sentence: mā… illā — restriction (ḥaṣr). "It is nothing but…"

ذِكْر — root ذ-ك-ر. To mention, to remember, to call to mind. And beneath the root lie holding in memory and uttering.

And the word occurs twice in these two verses:

• 51: lammā samiʿū'l-dhikr — when they heard the Reminder.
• 52: wa mā huwa illā dhikrun — it is nothing but a reminder.

The same word: the one the name of what they heard, the other the description of that thing.

And now what the sentence does has to be seen.

Throughout the sūra the dispute has run through a person: is he possessed or not? What is his character like? Is he asking a fee?

The last sentence changes the subject: wa mā huwa — "it".

And who is "it"? Not the Prophet — the message.

The sūra opens with a personal accusation and closes with a universal description.

ٱلْعَٰلَمِين — all beings. Treated in the discussion of al-Fātiḥa.

And this phrase is used in another place in the Qurʾān of the Prophet: "We have sent you only as a mercy for all beings" (al-Anbiyāʾ 21/107).

Setting the two verses side by side is instructive:

Both have the same scope: all beings. The one describes the one sent, the other what is sent.

I record this as an observation:

The sūra opens with writing and closes with remembrance. And the two are two faces of one work: writing is remembrance taken outside. The pen records, the reminder recalls.

The finding recorded in the discussion of al-ʿAlaq is completed here: "In an oral culture a word lives as long as those who memorised it live. Writing changes this: knowledge becomes independent of the lifespan of the one who knows."

Sūrat al-Qalam turns this into a circle: what is written is a reminder for all beings. The record makes universality possible.

I offer this as my own reading; but the word-choices of the first and last verses are a datum of the text.