Jihad & Shahadat

Dr. Ali Sharitati

A Discussion of Shahid

The term "martyr," derived from the (Latin) root "mort, "implies
"death and dying," "Martyr" is a noun meaning "the one who dies
for God and faith." Thus a martyr is, in any case, the one who dies.
The only difference between his death and that of others is to be seen
in the "cause." He dies for the cause of God, whereas the cause of the
death of another may be cancer. Otherwise, the essence of the
phenomenon in both cases, that is to say, death, is one and the same.
As far as death is concerned it makes no difference whether the
person is killed for God, for passion, or in an accident. In this sense,
Christ and those killed for Christianity are "martyrs." In other
words, they were "mortals," because, in Christendom's the term
"martyr" refers to the person who has died [as such].

But a shahid is always alive and present. He is not absent. Thus the
two terms, "shahid "and "martyr." are antonyms of each other. As it
was said, the meaning of shahid (pl. shuhada), whether national or
religious, in Eastern religions or otherwise, embodies the
connotation of sacredness. This is right. There is no doubt that in
every religion, school of thought, and national or religious attitude, a
shahid is sacred. [This is true], even though the school of thought in
question may not be religious, but materialistic. The attitude and
feeling toward the shahid embodies a metaphysical sacredness. In my
opinion, the question from whence the sacredness of a shahid comes
needs hair-splitting scientific analysis. Even in religions and schools
of thought in which there is no belief in sacredness and the sacred,
there is however belief concerning the sanctity of a shahid. This
status originates in the particular relation of a shahid to his school.
In other words he develops a spring of value and sanctity. It is because,
at any rate, the relationship of an individual with his belief is a
sacred relationship. The same relation develops between a shahid and his
faith. In the same way, yet indirectly, the same relationship develops
between an adherent to a belief and its shuhada. Thus the origin of
the sanctity of a shahid is the feeling of sacredness that all people
have toward their school of thought, nationality, and religion.
In existentialism, there are discussions which are very similar, in
some parts, to our discussions concerning wilayat and its effects.
Man has a primary "essential" character and a secondary "shaping
character." In respect to the former, every person is the same.
Anyone who wears clothes exists! But in the true sense of the term,
what makes one's character, that is to say, makes him distinct from
other beings, are the spiritual attributes and dimensions, feelings,
instincts, and particular qualities—the things that, once a person
considers them, he senses (himself) as a particular "I"." He realizes
himself, saying, "Sum" (I am).

From whence do the particular characteristics of "I" come? "I," as

a human being, after being born, developed characteristics,
attributes, and positive and negative values. Gradually I developed a
knowledge of myself. Where does this come from. Heidegger says,
"The sum of man's knowledge about his life's environment makes his
character, that knowledge being the conscious relation of the
existence of 'I' with an external 'thing', 'person', or 'thought."' When
I establish a mental and existential relationship with individuals,
movements, phenomena, things, thoughts, etc., this relationship
finds a reflection in me. This reflection becomes a part of my essence
and shapes my character. Thus man's character is the sum of all his
relations with other characters. Consequently my virtue and vice is
relative to the virtues and vices of the sum of the individuals,
characters, ideas ... which surround me and with which I have a
relation.

This relation can be with a historical entity (if, for example, I read
history). We have not had a [direct] relationship with Imam Husayn.
But when we intellectually meet him through a book or words, he
becomes a part of our knowledge, and then a part of our personal
characteristics. In this sense, everyone exists relative to his
knowledge and ideals.

Likewise, when we give a part of our existence for a cause, that part
becomes a part of that cause. For example, in our mind, justice has
sacredness. It is one of those values which has become a part of us
thanks to our relationship and contact with it. If I donate a thousand
dollars of my own money for the establishment of justice, that
thousand dollars absorbs the sacredness of justice. As long as it was
in my pocket, it was merely one thousand dollars. When I negate it in
the way of justice, it is affirmed in another form, because it
transforms into the essence of justice. Or for example, we have some
money and we feed a group of poor people. If feeding the poor has
the attribute of sacredness, the amount of money which has come out
of our pocket for the feeding develops a particular value. In other
words, it develops a non-monetary value and adopts a spiritual
value. If we had spent the same amount of money for promulgation
of spiritual food, [for example, for] the writing, translating, of
publishing of a book, the money finds a new value depending on how
sacred the act in question is. In other words, the money negates its
existence in a sense, but obtains a new existence and value. In fact,
money is an external measure of energy and power. If it is spent on
"partying," the energy develops a profane value or, as some may
think, a sacred value! Money is like kerosene or gasoline, which can
be used to move a machine or to light a lamp. Once it is spent and
once it is burned, it turns into a spiritual energy, depending upon the
purpose for which it has vanished. What is spent does not have an
independent value. The value belongs to me who has spent it. That
amount of money was a part of me. Thus the sanctity of the cause for
which the money is spent reflects on me. Its value comes back to me. I
earn it; because that amount of money was a portion of my existence.
The hundred dollars that I have paid for the cause of justice
transforms itself into "the sanctity of justice." The sanctity of justice
is transformed into "the money," that is to say, something absolutely
materialistic and economic. Likewise, if it is spent for feeding the
poor, the value of such feeding transports its value to the money
spent. But the same amount of money, once spent for filthy partying,
does not adopt a value. It rather becomes less than its materialistic
value. At this point, we reach a principle: "everything obtains a
similar value to that for which it has been spent." As it is negated, it
is affirmed. In other words, as its existence is negated, its value is
affirmed. In self-annihilation, it reaches the permanence of the
purpose, provided that the purpose is something permanent, such as
an ideal, a value, freedom, justice, charity, thought, or knowledge.
Money, once spent for the sake of knowledge, goes out of one's
pocket and becomes zero; but at the same time it changes into the
values of knowledge for which it is spent.

Just as money is a part of my existence, so my existence, my animal

life, my instinct, and my time are parts of me. Suppose I spent an
hour of my time to earn money. Because the earning of money has no
value, the one hour cannot obtain any value, because I have
sacrificed that hour for the sake of what does not have value or
sanctity. But if I spent the same hour teaching someone something or
guiding him without charging him anything, I have sacrificed that
hour for a value. That hour takes on the value of the cause for which
that hour was spent.

A Shahid is the one who negates his whole existence for the sacred
ideal in which we all believe. It is natural then that all the sacredness
of that ideal and goal transports itself to his existence. True, that his
existence has suddenly become non-existent, but he has absorbed the
whole value of the idea for which he has negated himself. No wonder
then, that he, in the mind of the people, becomes sacredness itself. In
this way, man becomes absolute man, because he is no longer a
person, an individual. He is "thought." He had been an individual
who sacrificed himself for "thought" Now he is "thought" itself. For
this reason, we do not recognize Husayn as a particular person who is
the son of Ali. Husayn is a name for Islam, justice, imamat, and
divine unity. We do not praise him as an individual in order to
evaluate him and rank him among shuhada. This issue is not
relevant. When we speak of Husayn, we do not mean Husayn as a
person. Husayn was that individual who negated himself with abso-
lute sincerity, with the utmost magnificence within human power, for
an absolute and sacred value. From him remains nothing but a name.
His content is no longer an individual, but is a thought. He has trans-
formed himself into the very school [for which he has negated him-
self].

An individual who becomes a shahid for the sake of a nation, and

thus obtains sacredness, earns this status. In the opinion of the ones
who do not recognize a nation as the sum of individuals, but
recognize it as a collective spirit above the individuals, a shahid is a
spiritual crystallization of that collective spirit which they call
"nation." Likewise, when an individual sacrifices himself for the sake
of knowledge, he is no longer an individual. He becomes knowledge
itself. He becomes the shahid of knowledge. We praise liberty
through an individual who has given himself to liberty; we do not
praise "him" because he was a good person. This is not of course in
contradiction with the fact that, from God's perspective, he is still an
individual, and in the hereafter, he will have a separate destiny and
account. But in the society, and by the criterion of our school, we do
not praise him as an individual; we praise the thought, the sacred.
At this point, the meaning of the word "shahid" is all the more
clear. When the belief in a sacred school of thought is gradually
eroding, is about to vanish or be forgotten in a new generation due to
a conspiracy, suddenly an individual, by negating himself, re-
establishes it. In other words, he calls it back again to the scene of
the world. By sacrificing his existence, he affirms the thitherto]
vanishing existence of that ideal. For this reason, he is shahid
(witness, present) and mashhud (visible). He is always in front of us.
The thought also obtains presence and permanence through him. It becomes
revived and obtains a soul again.

We have two kinds of shahid, one symbolized by Hamzah, the

master of martyrs, and the other symbolized by Husayn.
There is much difference between Hamzah and Husayn. Hamzah
is a mujahid and a hero who goes (into battle) to achieve victory and
defeat the enemy. Instead, he is defeated, is killed, and thus becomes
a shahid. But this represents an individual shahadat. His name is
registered at the top of the list of those who died for the cause of
their belief.

Husayn, on the other hand, is a different type. He does not go (into

battle with the intention of) succeeding in killing the enemy and
winning victory. Neither is he accidentally killed by a terroristic act
of someone such as Wahshi. This is not the case. Husayn, while he
could stay at home and continue to live, rebels and consciously
welcomes death. Precisely at this moment. he chooses self-negation.
He takes this dangerous route, placing himself in the battlefield, in
front of the contemplators of the world and in front of time, so that
[the consequence of] his act might be widely spread and the cause for
which he gives his life might be realized sooner. Husayn chooses
shahadat as an end or as a means for the affirmation of what is being
negated and mutilated by the political apparatus.

Conversely, shahadat chooses Hamzah and the other mujahidin

who go for victory. In the shahadat of Husayn, the goal is self-
negation for the sanctity [of that ideal] which is being negated and
gradually is vanishing. At this point, jihad and shahadat are
completely separate from each other. Ali speaks of the two concepts
in two different contexts with two [different] philosophies.
Al- Jihad 'izzun lil Islam ("Jihad is glory for Islam.") Jihad is an act,
the philosophy of which is different from that of shahadat. Of course
in jihad, there is shahadat, but the kind which Hamzah symbolizes,
not the one Husayn symbolizes.

Al-Shahadat istizharan 'alal-mujahadat ("Shahadat is exposing

what is being covered up.") Yes, such is the goal of shahadat, and
thus it is always different from jihad. It is discussed in a different
chapter. Jihad is glory for Islam. But shahadat is exposing what is
being covered up. This is how I understand the matter. Once upon a
time a truth was an appealing precept. Everyone followed it and it
was sacred. All powers surrounded it. But gradually in time, because
that truth did not serve the interests of a minority and was dangerous
for a group, it was conspired against in order to erase it from the
minds and lives of the people. In order to fill its empty place, some
other issue was supplanted. Gradually the original issue was
completely lost and in its place other issues were discussed.
In this situation, the shahid, in order to revive the original issue,
sacrifices his own life, and thus brings the demode precept back into
attention by repulsion of its sham substitute. This is the very goal.
At the time of Husayn, the main issue after the Prophet was that of
leadership. The other issues were marginal. The main issue was:
"Anyway, who is to rule and supervise the destiny of the Muslim
nation?" As we know, during the entire reign of the Umayyads, this
remained the issue. Uprisings, and thus the major crises of the
Umayyads, all boiled down to this very issue. People would pour into
the mosques at every event and would grab the neck of the caliph,
asking him, "On the basis of which ayah or by what reason do you
hold your position? Do you have the right or not?" Well, in the midst
of such a situation, one cannot rule. No wonder then that the period
of the Umayyads was no longer than a century.

During their reign, the Abbasids, who were more experienced

(than the Umayyads), de-politicized the people; that is to say, they
made the people less sensitive to the issue of imamat (leadership) and
the destiny of the society. By what means?! By clinging to the most
sacred issues: worship, exegesis of the Qur'an, kalam (theology),
philosophy, translation of foreign books, promulgation of
knowledge, cultivation, expansion of civilization—so that Baghdad
could be an heir to all great cities and civilizations of the world and
so that Muslims could become the most advanced of peoples. [But to
what real end.] So that one issue should become negated and no one
talk about it.

For the purpose of reviving the very issue, the shahid arises.
Having nothing else to sacrifice, he sacrifices his own life. Because he
sacrifices his life for that purpose, he transmits the sacredness of that
cause to himself.

To God belong both the East and the West. He guides

whom He will to a straight path. Thus we have made you
an ummatan wasatan (middle community) so that you
may be shuhada (witnesses) over mankind, and the
Apostle may be a shahid (witness) over you. (2:142-143).

In this ayah, shahadat does not mean "to be killed." It implies that
something has been covered and is about to leave the realm of
memory, being gradually forgotten by people. The shahid witnesses
for this innocent, silent, and oppressed victim. We know that shahid
is a term of a different kind from others. The Apostle is a shahid
without being killed. without being killed, the Islamic community
established by the Qur'an has the status and responsibility of a
shahid. God says, " ... so that you may be shuhada over mankind ...",
just as the Apostle is shahid over you. Thus the role of shahadat is
more general and more important than that of being murdered.
Nevertheless the one who gives his life has performed the most
sublime shahadat. Every Muslim should make a shahid community
for others, just as the Apostle is an 'uswah (pattern) on the basis of
which we make ourselves. He is our shahid and we are the shuhada
of humanity.

We have determined that shahid connotes a "pattern, prototype,

or example" on the basis of whom one rebuilds oneself. It means we
should situate our Prophet in the midrealm of culture, faith,
knowledge, thought, and society, and make all these to accord with
him. Once you have done so, and thus have situated yourself in the
midst of time and earth, all other nations and masses should rebuild
themselves to accord with you. In this way you [as a nation] become
their shahid. In other words, the same role that the Apostle has
played for you, you will play for others. You will play the role of the
Prophet as a human and as a nation for them. It is in this sense that
the locution "'ummatan wasatan" (a community justly balanced)
appears quite relevant to the word shahid. We usually think that
'ummatan wasatan refers to a moderate society, that is to say, a
society in which there is not extravagance or pettiness, which has not
drowned itself in materialism at the expense of sacrificing its
spirituality. It is a society in which there is both spirit and matter.
It is "moderate"; whereas, considering the issue of the mission of this
'ummat, this is not essentially the meaning of wasatan in this
locution. Its meaning is far superior. It means that we, as an 'ummat,
we must be the axis of time; that is to say, we must not be a group
cowering in a corner of the Middle East or turning around ourselves,
rather than becoming involved in crucial and vital issues, which form
everything and make the present day of humanity and tomorrow's
history. We should not neglect this responsibility by engaging in self-
indulgent repetition. We must be in the middle of the field.
We should not be a society which is ghaib ' (absent. the opposite of
shahid), isolated, and pseudo-Mutazilite, but we should be an
'ummat in the middle of the East and the West, between Right and
Left, between the two poles, and in short, in the middle of the field.
The shahid is such a person. He is present in all fields. An ummatan
wasatan is a community that is in the midst of battles; it has a
universal mission. It is not a self-isolated. closed, and distant
community. It is a shahid community.

The opinion I expressed last year concerning shahadat meant that,

fundamentally in Islam, shahadat is an independent issue, as are
prayer, fasting, and jihad. Whereas, in the common opinion,
shahadat for a mujahid of a religion is a state or destiny in which he is
murdered by the enemy in jihad. Such is also correct. But what I have
expressed as a principle adjacent to jihad—not as an extension of
jihad and not as a degree that the mujahid obtains in God's view or in
relation to his destiny in the Hereafter—relates to a particular
shahadat, symbolized by Husayn. We in Islam have great shuhada,
such as our Imams, the first and foremost of whom is Ali, who is the
greatest Imam and the greatest man made by Islam. Even though Ali
is a shahid, we take Hamzah and Husayn as ideal manifestations of
shahadat.

Hamzah is the greatest hero of Islam in the most crucial battle,

Uhud (in 627). The Prophet of Islam never expressed so much
sadness as he did for Hamzah, even when his own son, Abraham,
died, or when some of his greatest companions were martyred. In the
battle of Uhud, Hamzah became a shahid due to an inhuman
conspiracy contrived by Hind (Abu Sufyan's wife and Muawiyah's
mother) and carried out by her slave, Wahshi. The reaction of the
Apostle was severe. The people of Medina praise Hamzah so much as
a hero that the Saudis have accused them of worshipping him. It
shows how much he is glorified, even though he was not from
Medina. It was with his acceptance of Islam that Muslims
straightened their stature. At the beginning of bi'that, Hamzah was
recognized among the Quraysh as a heroic and epic personality. He
was the youngest son of Abd al-M uttalib, a great hunter and warrior.
After the episode in which the Quraysh insulted the Apostle and he
defended the Apostle, Hamzah became inclined toward Islam. As he
became Muslim, Muslims no longer remained a weak and persecuted
group. Indeed, they manifested themselves as a group ready for a
showdown. Afterwards, as long as there was the sword and
personality of Hamzah, other personalities were eclipsed. Even the
most sparkling epochal personality of Islam, that is to say, Ali, was
under his influence. It is quite obvious that in the battle of Uhud, the
spearhead was Hamzah, followed by Ali.

You know that when Hamzah was killed due to that filthy and
womanly conspiracy, the Apostle became very angry and sad. When
he attended the body of Hamzah, the ears, eyes, and nose of the latter
had already been cut off. Hind had made frightening ornaments of
these for herself A man who had taken an oath to drink the blood of
Hamzah fulfilled his vow in Uhud. Muhammad, near the corpse of
this great hero, this young and beloved son of Abdul Muttalib, and
his own young uncle, spoke so angrily and vengefully that he
immediately felt sorry and God warned him. Muhammad vowed that
at the first chance he would burn thirty of the enemy as a blood
reprisal for Hamzah. But the heavens immediately shouted at him
that no one except God, Who is the Lord of fire, has the right to burn
a human being for a crime. Thus the Apostle broke his vow. Since
God took this sense of vengeance from him, he tried to console
himself by reciting a eulogy for Hamzah.

On his return to Medina, the families were mourning their beloved

ones; but no one was crying for Hamzah, because he had no relatives
or home in Medina. He was a lonely immigrant. The Apostle, with
such tender feelings, unexpected from a heroic man like him, waged a
wailing complaint as to why no one cried for Hamzah, the son of
Abdul Muttalib, "the hero of our family." And behold this tender
feeling, that a Medinan family came to the Apostle and gave him
condolences, saying, "We will cry for Hamzah's death and the
Apostle will eulogize ours." And he thanked them.

At any rate, in the history of Islam, for the first time, Hamzah was
given the title Sayyidal-Shuhada (the Master of Shuhada). The same
title was later primarily applied to Husayn. Both are Sayyid al-
Shuhada, but there is a fundamental difference between their
shahadat. They are of two different kinds which can hardly be
compared. Hamzah is a mujahid who is killed in the midst of jihad
but Husayn is a shahid who attains shahadat before he is killed. He is
a shahid, not only at the place of his shahadat, but also in his own
house. From the moment that Walid, the governor of Medina, asks
him to swear allegiance [to Yazid] and he says, "NO !"—the negation
by which he accepts his own death—Husayn is a shahid, because
shahid in this sense is not necessarily the title of the one killed as
such, but it is precisely the very witnessing aimed at negating an
[innovative] affair. A shahid is a person who, from the beginning of
his decision, chooses his own shahadat, even though, between his
decision-making and his death, months or even years may pass. If we
want to explain the fundamental difference between the two kinds of
shahadat, we must say that, in Hamzah's case, it is the death which
chooses him. In other words, it is a kind of shahadat that chooses the
shahid. In Husayn's case, it is quite the contrary. The shahid chooses
his own shahadat. Husayn has chosen shahadat, but Hamzah has
been chosen by shahadat.

The philosophy of the rise of the mujahid is not the same as that of
the shahid. The mujahid is a sincere warrior who, for the sake of
defending his belief and community or spreading and glorifying his
faith and community, rises so that he may break, devastate, and
conquer the enemy who blocks or endangers his path; thus the
difference between attack and defense is jihad. He may be killed in
this way. Since he dies in this way, we entitle him "shahid. "The kind
of shahadat symbolized by Hamzah is a tragedy suffered by a
mujahid in his attempt to conquer and kill the enemy. Thus the type
of shahid symbolized by Hamzah refers to the one who gets killed as
a man who had decided to kill the enemy. He is a mujahid. The type
of shahid symbolized by Husayn is a man who arises for his own
death. In the first case, shahadat is a negative incident. In the latter
case, it is a decisive goal, chosen consciously. In the former, shahadat
is an accident along the way; in the latter, it is the destination. There
death is a tragedy; here death is an ideal. It is an ideology. There the
mujahid, who had decided to kill the enemy, gets killed. He is to
wailed and eulogized. Here there is no grief, for shahadat is a sublime
degree, a final stage of human evolution. It is reaching the absolute
by one's own death. Death, in this case, is not a sinister event. It is a
weapon in the hands of the friend who with it hits the head of the
enemy. In the event that Husayn is completely powerless in
defending the truth, he hits the head of the attacking enemy with his
own death.

Shahadat has such a unique radiance; it creates light and heat in

the world and in the cold and dark hearts. In the paralyzed wills and
thought, immersed in stagnation and darkness, and in the memories
which have forgotten all the truths and reminiscences, it creates
movement, vision, and hope and provides will, mission, and
commitment. The thought, "Nothing can be done," changes into,
"Something can be done," or even, "Something must be done." Such
death brings about the death of the enemy at the hands of the ones
who are educated by the blood of a shahid. By shedding his own
blood, the shahid is not in the position to cause the fall of the enemy,
[for he can't do so]. He wants to humiliate the enemy, and he does so.
By his death, he does not choose to flee the hard and uncomfortable
environment. He does not choose shame. Instead of a negative flight,
he commits a positive attack. By his death, he condemns the
oppressor and provides commitment for the oppressed. He exposes
aggression and revives what has hitherto been negated. He reminds
the people of what has already been forgotten. In the icy hearts of a
people, he bestows the blood of life, resurrection, and movement.
For those who have become accustomed to captivity and thus think
of captivity as a permanent state, the blood of a shahid is a rescue
vessel. For the eyes which can no longer read the truth and cannot see
the face of the truth in the darkness of despotism and istihmar
(stupification), all they see being nothing but pollution, the blood of
the shahid is a candle light which gives vision and [serves as] the
radiant light of guidance for the misguided who wander amidst the
homeless caravan, on mountains, in deserts, along by-ways, and in
ditches.