َ ‫قنا اْلنسان في أ‬

‫م‬ ‫وي‬ ‫ق‬

ْ ‫ت‬ ‫ن‬
ٍ ِ َ ِ َ ْ ‫س‬‫ح‬ ِ َ َ ِ َ ْ َ ‫خل‬ َ َ‫ل‬
َ ْ ‫قد‬
(Q.95:4)

This Qur'anic verse which affirms that God created man 'with the most
perfect stature' is echoed in a Hadîth according to which 'God created Adam
according to His form ('alā sūratihi). The Hadîth therefore means literally:
'God created Adam according to the form of the Name Allah.' Now this
Divine Name is the one that is the ism jāmi', the Name which totalizes all the
other Divine Names.

As a result, in his original form man carries within him all the Divine Names
of which he is, potentially, the most perfect receptacle. That is why, of all
creatures, man is the only one capable of 'containing' God as the
famous Hadîth qudsi states: 'My heavens and My earth cannot contain Me
but the heart of My believing servant contains Me. 'The believing servant',
'only possesses this capacity for containing because he was created
according to the Form of [God], in the same way that the mirror only
receives the form of the one who looks at himself in it.

In other words, man is the mirror in which God contemplates His Names and
in the absence of which He would remain a 'hidden treasure': 'I was a hidden
treasure and I loved to be known. So I created the creatures and made myself
known by them and it is through Me that they have known Me.'

This desire of the solitary God to reveal Himself is the irrepressible

aspiration of the Divine Names to be granted a location of manifestation, an
object over which each of them will be able to exercise the
authority (hukm) which is proper to it and which thus distinguishes it from
the others, for marzūq implies a Razique , without maghfūr,no Ghāfir, etc.

Admittedly, from the point of view of the ahadiyya, the absolute Oneness,
God is autonomous, 'ghanī 'an al 'ālamīn', for the pure and unconditioned
Essence is unaware of the 'mā siwā Llāh', 'that which is other than God', it is
even unaware of His names. But from the point of view of
the wāhidiyya, the Unity of the Multiplicity, His Names demand places of
manifestation; they seek our existence in order to be able to display
themselves in us.
As a receptacle for the Names, man is also the guardian of them. From the
privilege of having been created 'according to the Form of God' ensues his
designation as khalīfa, lieutenant in the proper sense of the word, of God.
Had he not possessed in a synthetic way the attributes proper to the One
whom he replaces, this responsibility would not have been entrusted to him.
The khilāfa was assigned to Adam', to the exclusion of the other creatures of
the universe, because God created him in His form. The lieutenant must
necessarily appear, to those amongst whom he exercises this function, in the
image of the one who has appointed him. Otherwise he is not truly his
lieutenant amongst them.

Sūra, and khilāfa, these two favours specifically granted to man are those
which also doubly expose him to the greatest peril of his existence: the
illusion of rubūbiyya, of lordship.
Created 'in the form of God', man tends to forget, that he was made out of
clay, the most lowly of materials, an incomparable symbol of
his 'ubūdiyya, of his ontological servant-hood.

Chosen by God to be his representative in the world, he is inclined to

'pretend' he is God, either in a crude way by proclaiming himself divine. He
is the only creature who can ever claim the divinity for himself– or, in a
more subtle way, each time he thinks he is autonomous, he forgets that
nothing of what he is or what he has belongs to him exclusively, that the
power that he exercises over things and beings which surround him and over
himself has been lent to him provisionally and can be withdrawn from him
at any moment, that he only has the place that he occupies through God and
in the name of God.

The double privilege that confers its nobility on the human condition is
formidable: because it assigns authority to him and bestows tasrīf, the
exercise of power, on him, the khilāfa submits man to the irresistible
temptation of appropriating the sovereignty which only belongs exclusively
to God. Because his form is divine, this original theomorphic image exposes
him to the takabbur, a proud presumption more serious than that of Iblis
himself, since, the latter did not become proud in relation to God but only in
relation to Adam. All the other creatures, who do not 'share' these two
privileges with God – His form and His power – are exempt from this
illusion of rubūbiyya; they are constantly aware of their faqr, of their
ontological indigence.
'Innī jā'il fī l-ard khalīfatan' – I appoint a lieutenant on earth (Q. 2:30). In a
certain way the destiny of each individual begins and ends with this verse
which, with vertiginous concision, expresses the contradiction inherent in
the nature of man: in the very affirmation of the function entrusted to man,
the affirmation of his servant-hood is subtly enclosed, as we shall see. The
investiture of Adam has his fall and his exile as a condition; he cannot
assume the honour which is bestowed on him unless he also assumes the
humility which is inseparable from it.

But let us return to the words of this elliptical verse. God does not choose
His words at random. Even if imām and khalīfa are often considered as
synonyms and used indifferently to express the ruling function of man, be it
on a universal scale or on the scale of a specific community, there still
remains a major semantic difference which distinguishes them: every
khalīfa implies a mustakhlif, a person who appoints him and whom he
replaces temporarily; the term imām on the other hand, which
etymologically signifies 'the fact of being in front', is devoid of this
connotation. 'Thus, God has named him only with a name which bears in
itself a reminder, for man is by nature inclined to forgetfulness, negligence
and distraction. The very name khalīfa reminds him of the One who
appointed him as such.

It is also in order to convey to him that despite his elevated cosmic function
he remains 'abd, slave of God, that the verse states that this responsibility
has been entrusted to him fī l-ard, 'on earth'. Had he exercised his mandate
in heaven he could not have contemplated his 'ubūdiyya. 'In this way,' God
has not removed him from his homeland, the earth, of which he was made
and which is the place of his indigence in order that he may contemplate
his 'ubūdiyya; for the earth is humble by essence. Thus the function
of khalīfa does not veil him from his 'ubūdiyya.

Twice then, in the very verse which appoints him as 'vicar' of God, man is
reminded of his ontological servitude.
However, in the vertiginous fall into which he was hurled when the divine
word – 'innī jā'il fī l-ard khalīfatan' – was heard, man, blinded by the
prestige inherent to his function of khalīfa, forgets his essential dependence
on his mustakhlif, his mandator, and denies it by betraying the oath of
allegiance which he made by replying: 'Indeed!' (Balā ) to the question 'Am I
not your Lord?' (alastu bi-rabbikum, (Q 7:172), he condemns himself to an
inexorable exile asfala sāfilīn, (‫ن‬
َ ‫ساِفِلي‬
َ ‫ل‬
َ ‫سَف‬
ْ ‫ )ُثّم َرَدْدَناُه َأ‬at the lowest of the low'
in the bottomless abyss of an illusory sovereignty. He no longer assumes the
Names of God, he usurps them.

To re-conquer the nobility of his origin, he must first of all recognize his
vassalage, become aware of his ontological servitude.
But this awareness, if it is the condition of this quest, is not enough to
restore to man his original theomorphic image, the outlines of which his
ignorance and his pretention have blurred, effacing the signs. He must also
restore the amāna, which was entrusted to him by God. This sacred Trust
comprises precisely the Divine Names which he inherited by his original
form and which he must in some way re-assume in their entirety in order to
be strictly speaking the image of God.

The distance which separates the man fī asfala sāfilīn, from his return to his
perfect primordial stature ('fi ahsani taqwīm') cannot be traversed except by
the takhalluq bi akhlāq Allāh. the process of metamorphosis by which he is
re-clothed in the divine 'characteristics' and at the end of which he is, in an
actual and not merely a virtual way, the mirror in which God contemplates
Himself and in which the creatures contemplate Him. It is in
this takhalluq, this assumption by man of the 'characteristics' or 'Names' of
God that the accomplishment of a duty of perfection resides, the counterpart
of the birth right of which he has not known how to remain worthy.

In fact, even if, in his primordial form, man possesses all the divine
characteristics, the fact remains that in the animal man (al-insān al-
hayawānī) they are buried under the mountain of the ego; it is therefore
incumbent upon the man, he who makes his way towards God, to revive
these akhlāq which are sleeping in the deepest part of his being.

'Man's homeland (mawtin) is his 'ubūdiyya and he who exiles himself from
his homeland', 'is barred from assuming the Divine Names. It is only in so
far as he effaces his illusory lordship that the man is able to let the Divine
Names show through, to be the limpid receptacle in which they display
themselves in their resplendent clarity.

The men of God are those who, though they have been created according to
His Form, do not allow themselves to be diverted from poverty, humility and
servitude. And when they are obliged – and it is unavoidable – to
demonstrate the power inherent in their original form, they demonstrate it on
the occasions that God has arranged for them restore His Names to His
Form, not to theirs.

In other words, it is necessary to give back the rubūbiyya to the only

true Rabb and limit ourselves to our ontological 'ubūdiyya. The exercise
of rubūbiyya, which circumstances require of us by virtue of our status
as khalīfa, will not sully this 'ubūdiyya as long as we only consent to it
through strict obedience to God.

Takhalluq is, in the last analysis, only another name for the most blind
obedience to God. The one who practices it behaves at each moment in
rigorous conformity with what the hukm, the authority of the divine Name
which governs the present instant, demands. He manifests generosity, when
God prescribes it for him, just as easily as anger or any other divine
attribute, Takhalluq is neither more nor less than the observance
of adab towards God, taking this word in its proper sense of
'appropriateness', that is to say of perfect conformity to the status of the
present instant. Those who practice takhalluq by the term udabā’ are ‘those
who observe adab towards God'. This particularly demonstrates thereby that
anger or any other analogous 'character trait' – however negative it may
seem – has its place in the economy of the takhalluq in the same way that its
opposite the taslīm, resignation, does; every quality, whatever it may be is
essentially noble – for each one has its origin in divinis – it only acquires its
blameworthy status in so far as it is used outside of the limits of the
Commandment of God: there are moments when the Commandment of God
prescribes anger and others when it prescribes resignation. In suspending his
personal judgment and leaving the matter to divine judgment, the adīb
adopts in every situation that attitude which the sharī'a prescribes for him.

It is from this unconditional and absolute adherence with all his being to
the sharī'a that the transparency of the saint springs 'so much so that he is a
servant in the form of a lord or a lord in the form of a servant'. A universal
truth which applies to all beings but which only the 'abd the pure servant,
realizes fully. For this reason, he alone legitimately bears the name of Insān
kāmil Definitively extinguished to self in the dazzling Divine Presence, lost
in the contemplation of His Names, he no longer knows who he is: 'Then
that which never was disappears and that which has never ceased to be
remains.