AL-FATIHAH’S last ayat exhorts us to avoid the path of those who have earned His wrath.

This may be obvious, but even demons like Pol Pot have their admirers and wannabes. Ex-prime minister Najib Razak stole billions from the people, yet still has many loyal, exuberant “malu apa, bosku?” (What is there to be ashamed of, my boss?) followers.

I make no apologies for mentioning the former head of government in the same paragraph as Pol Pot. The difference between him and that Cambodian cretin is one of magnitude, not kind. The gruesome killing of an innocent Pakistani banker and a Mongolian model may not be on the same scale as Pol Pot’s genocide, but think of the thousands of Malaysians who have succumbed to Covid-19.

Had the billions not been siphoned off 1MDB and Malaysia not been burdened by its subsequent humongous debt, the nation would have had ample funds to secure an adequate supply of vaccines early on.

As for the banker and model, the Quran reminds us (5:32) that if you kill a person, it is as if you have killed all of mankind.

Leaders have an extra special and heavy burden as they must go beyond doing good; they must also prevent evil. Najib failed at both. Worse, he perverted the pristine values of our faith, as seen in him financing haj pilgrimages from the pilfered funds. He mocked the sanctity of our hallowed rituals with his cynical attempt at “sanitising” his loot. He degraded our faith.

Najib hoodwinked Malaysians by claiming that the billions deposited into his account were gifts from a Saudi prince. He exploited Malays’ religious sentiments. To us, anything from the land of the Arabs is halal, rezeki (bounty) from Heaven. Even Makkah flies are halal!

It may be harsh to condemn Najib during Ramadan, a season to be forgiving. However, he has yet to admit his wrongdoings. On the contrary, he thinks he has done something exemplary, worthy of praise and not censure.

If Al-Fatihah is the essence of the Quran, is there a more comparable ayat that is the Quran’s kernel? This question was posed to Malaysian undergraduates at a meeting organised by The Umno Club of New York and New Jersey in 2011. The responses touched and taught me much about our holy book.

One student recalled his fajar prayer at the Grand Canyon National Park one late summer. Engulfed in the cool desert morning air, he could glimpse the northern rim through the soft rays of the emerging sun. Deep below was the shimmering ribbon of water flowing at its leisure, guarded by magnificent sheer cliffs on both sides. The cliffs contain many secrets of the past, while the river supports the multitude of lifeforms all the way to the Gulf of California. Above was the vast expanse of the cloudless sky with no pillars supporting it. It was as if Allah had revealed “All His Splendor”, as per Surah Al-Qaf (50:6).

Grand Canyon visitors cannot help but be struck by the spirituality of the place. Even if one is not religious, one will be constrained from blemishing it. To scratch graffiti or litter it with plastic bottles is akin to blasphemy. As the Grand Canyon is sacred to Native Americans, so, too, should it be to every visitor.

Another student recalled her experience at a New York City event. She was struck by the diversity of the attendees, the stark differences in their skin colour, facial features, languages, as well as food and attire. To her, it brought to life Surah Al-Hujurat (49:13): Allah could have made us all of one tribe, but chose not to so we could learn from each other.

Yet another recalled her classmate’s ordeal fleeing her native land. What made the classmate endure it all was recalling the prophet’s migration to Madinah. She also found comfort in Surah An-Nisa (4:97) that admonished those who partake in sin in their homeland using the excuse of local conditions. Is Allah’s earth not vast enough for one to escape (migrate), asked that ayat rhetorically.

That exercise prompted me to ponder the Quranic ayat most meaningful to me. Earlier, I discussed Al-Fatihah’s fifth ayat, “Keep us along the straight path”. Parallel to and carrying the same pristine principle would be:

الأمر بالمَعْرُوف والنَهي عن المُنْكَر

(al-amr bi-l-maʿrūf; wa-n-nahy ʿani-l-munkar)

Command good, and forbid evil. Stunning in its brevity, clarity and verity. The phrase is repeated in a few other places. To me, it is the Quran’s essence, its golden rule; the rest are but commentaries.

The Quran gives us many examples of good deeds (be kind to orphans and wayfarers) and evil deeds (killing, adultery, etc.).

If you rob, kill or destroy, then it matters not how many times you pray or perform haj. If you build your community, keep rivers clean and nurture the environment, then whether you don a hijab or how exhilarating your zikir is trivial by comparison.

As for contemporary discussions on Al-Fatihah, I find the arrogant certitude of some preachers intolerable. They remind me of the all-knowing imperious physicians of yore; their utterances and prescriptions unchallenged. They are, well, “god-like”. I am glad to not be of that generation or persuasion.

We trivialise this great surah if we are to reduce it to a genie-in-a-bottle. Rub or recite it and miracles will magically happen. Likewise, we will not be expressing our syukur, the “al hamdu”, if we dismiss Allah’s most precious gift to us – life and this world – as being but a mere mirage and that our “real” existence and universe await us in the Hereafter.

The American scholar Ebraheem Moosa, then at Stanford, summed it best for me during a talk he gave to our small Muslim community in Morgan Hill one Ramadan many years ago. The day you think you have fully understood the Quran is the day you die. Ameen to that! – April 22, 2022.

* M. Bakri Musa reads The Malaysian Insight.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.