29 § The Sword of Islam (Sayf al-Islām)
In the Western world it is customary to consider Islam as essentially a warrior civilisation and, consequently, when the sabre or the sword (as-sayf) is in question, this word is taken only in its most literal sense, with no thoughts as to whether anything else is involved. Moreover, although it is not to be contested that there is in Islam a certain warlike aspect, this same aspect, far from being peculiar to Islam, is to be found also in most other traditions, Christianity included. Even without recalling that Christ himself said, 'I came not to bring peace, but a sword', [1] which on the whole can be understood figuratively, the history of Christianity in the Middle Ages, that is, at the time when it was being actually realised in social institutions, gives ample proofs of this. On the other hand, the Hindu tradition itself, which certainly could not pass as particularly warlike, since it is generally reproached for being too little concerned with action, nevertheless contains this aspect also, as we can easily ascertain by reading the Bhagavad-Gitā. Short of being
blinded by certain prejudices, it is easy to understand that this must be so; for in the social domain war, inasmuch as it is directed against those who create disorder and aims at bringing them back to order, constitutes a legitimate function which is in fact nothing other than an aspect of the function of justice, understood in its most general sense. None the less, this is only the most outward element of the question and therefore the least essential. From the traditional point of view, the great value of war is that it symbolises the fight that man has to make against the enemies he carries within himself, that is, against all those internal elements which are contrary to order and to unity. In both cases, moreover, whether it is the outward social order or the inward spiritual order that is involved, warfare must always be conducive to the establishment of equilibrium and harmony (which explains why it is related to justice) and to unifying thereby in a certain measure the multiplicity of elements that are in opposition with each other. This amounts to saying that the normal outcome of war, and in the final analysis the only point of war, is peace (as-salām), which cannot be obtained truly except by submission (al-islām) to the divine will, putting each element in its right place in order to make them all unite in the conscious realisation of one and the same plan. There is hardly need to mention how, in the Arabic language, these two terms, al-islām and as-salām, are closely related to one another. [2]
In the Islamic tradition, these two senses of warfare as well as the real relationship between them, are expressed as clearly as possible by a hadith of the Prophet, uttered on return from an expedition against outward enemies: 'We have returned from the lesser holy war to the greater holy war' (Raja'nā min al-jihādī l-asghar ila l-jihādī l-akbar). If outer warfare is thus only the 'lesser holy war', [3] while the inner war is the 'greater holy war', it is because the first has only a secondary importance in relation to the second, of which it is merely an outward image. It therefore goes without saying that in these conditions whatever serves for outer warfare can be taken as symbol of what concerns inner warfare, [4] and this is particularly so in the case of the sword.
Those who overlook this meaning, even if they are ignorant of the hadith that we have just cited, could at least note that during the sermon, the khatīb (preacher), whose function manifestly has nothing martial about it in the ordinary sense of the word, holds in his hand a sword, which in these circumstances can only be a symbol, quite apart from the fact that this sword is usually a wooden one which obviously makes it unfit for use in any ordinary combat, and thereby emphasizes even further its symbolic character.
The wooden sword, moreover, dates back to a very remote past in
traditional symbolism, for it is, in India, one of the objects that figured in the Vedic sacrifice. [5] This sword (sphya), the sacrificial post, the chariot (or more precisely, the axle-tree which is the essential element) and the arrow, are said to be born of the vajra or thunderbolt of Indra: 'When Indra hurled the thunderbolt at Vritra, it became, at his hurling of it, fourfold . . . The Brahmins use two of these four forms during the sacrifice, while the Kshatriyas use the other two in battle [6] . . . When the sacrificer brandishes the wooden sword, it is the thunderbolt that he hurls at the enemy [7] . . .' The relationship of this sword with the vajra is to be noted, especially in view of what follows; and in this connection, we will add that the sword is generally assimilated to the lightning or considered as deriving from it. [8] Lightning is represented in sensible form by the well known 'flaming sword', quite apart from other meanings that this may have at the same time, for it must be clearly understood that every true symbol always contains a plurality of meanings which, far from being mutually exclusive or contradictory, harmonise together and complete one another.
The sword of the khatīb symbolises above all the power of the word, as should be obvious to anyone, the more so in that this is a meaning generally attributed to the sword, nor is it alien to the Christian tradition either, as these texts of the Apocalypse show: 'And he had in his right hand seven stars; and out of his mouth went a sharp two-edged sword, and his countenance was as the sun shining in his strength'. 'And out of his mouth [10] goeth a sharp sword, that with it he should smite the nations ....' [11] The sword issuing from the mouth obviously cannot have any other meaning, especially when the being who is thus described in these two passages is none other than the Word himself, or one of his manifestations. As for the sword's two edges, it represents through them a double power of the Word, creative and destructive, which takes us back precisely to the vajra. In fact, the vajra also symbolises a force which, though one in its essence, is manifested under two aspects that are contrary in appearance though complementary in reality; and these aspects just as they are represented by the two edges of the sword or of other
similar weapons, [12] are here represented by the two opposite points of the vajra. This symbolism is moreover valid for all the cosmic forces in their entirety, so that its application to speech is only one particular instance; but it is one which, by reason of the traditional conception of the Word and all that it implies, can itself be taken to symbolise inclusively all the other possible applications. [13]
Axial symbolism brings us back to the idea of harmonisation as the goal of holy war, both in its outer and inner meanings, for the axis is the place where all oppositions are reconciled and vanish or, in other words, the place of perfect equilibrium, which the far Eastern tradition designates as the Invariable Mean. [14] Thus, in this respect, which really corresponds to the most profound point of view, the sword represents not only the means, as its most obvious significance might lead us to conclude, but also the very end to be attained, being in a sense, as to its total meaning, a synthesis of both. We have done no more here than bring together a few remarks on this subject, which could be developed at some length; but we think that such as they are, they will serve well enough to show how far from the truth it is to attribute to the sword no more than a 'material' significance, whether it be in the context of Islam or of any other traditional form.