Emotion, Intellect and the Message of Imam Hussain (a.s)

In the last couple of weeks, the terms, 'intellectual', 'universal', 'logical' and the like have been thrown about more than I can remember in previous years- mostly with regard to mourning Aba Abdillah (a.s) and also spreading his message. There seems to be a growing hype around 'not letting emotion cloud our intellect' and other such mottoes.

And on the face of it, I don't have a problem with being intellectual or logical- Islam, or specifically Shi'a Islam has always shown an underlying encouragement to think independently, to have to think and make informed decisions- the Marja'iyya system is only one great example. As for universal- Imam Hussain (a.s) and his message is universal no matter which religion, ethnic group, which sect, which city, country or town decide to claim him as their own. He has been admired by non-Shi'as, non-Muslims, even secularists and his light has reached out to countless people, many of whom probably didn't know anything about Islam other than what erroneous fractions of information and connotations the media so generously provides.

What's intrigued me this year however, is the increasingly rife opinion that there is a battle between the emotion and intellect within us- Intellect vs. Emotion, that one must be toned down somewhat in order to make room for the other. There are a few possibilities as to why such a notion exists- perhaps it's another Hollywood-esque notion that we've come across in one too many dramatic movies or the soaps we watch or other aspects of society- someone has to 'be strong' and crush and trample on their emotions in order to be a man and do the 'right, logical thing'. Or maybe we just haven't stopped to think this whole thing though; perhaps we've all just seen two bandwagons and decided that we need to jump on one and crush the other in order to 'establish' ourselves- while we stand between two extremes, we feel that we are nobodies.

There could be another million reasons, but my point is that suddenly I'm coming across a lot of bold statements criticising, belittling and possibly side-lining emotional acts in this grievous month. There's been a lot of talk about not letting the focus of the first ten days of Muharram be mere crying and mourning, but to actually embody the virtues of the personalities we commemorate. But again what gets me is, why not both?! Are the two so antithetical that we have to rank one above the other? It reminds me a little of the whole debate about religious rituals and (vs.) spirituality- does it matter if my physical Hijab is a little compromised as long as my social Hijab is good? Is it really that important how many units of prayer I think I performed as long as my heart is pure? And the conclusion that most logical beings will come to is that the two sides of the coin are equally important, if not complimentary to each other. Too much of 'it's what's on the inside that matters' and we turn into what most of Christianity has become today, and too much military-mindedness on rituals and we can call ourselves Wahabis.

I say that emotion and intellect are complimentary to each other because our emotions are manifestations of our intellect. There are people who will tear up upon the mentioning of Aba Abdillah's name- why? It's not because they're emotionally charged people. When we cry for Imam Hussain (a.s), it's because to some extent, however limited it may be, we have an understanding of him, who he was, what he embodied, his status, and in light of all this we realise how unjust the happenings of Ashura were. Is this not intellect? If we didn't have an understanding of the Imam, if we just knew his name and nothing else, would we be able to cry for him? I don't think so. And it works the other way as well- emotion can awaken the intellect. By far, the best and biggest example of this would be Sayeda Zainab (a.s), Imam Sajjad (a.s) and Ummul Banin's (a.s) actions after Ashura. They used grief- probably without even trying- to elicit free thinking in people's minds once again, to remove the blinding screen from in front of their eyes and make them smell the coffee. I don't need to get into the countless narrations we have from and about Ahlulbayt (a.s) grieving for Imam Hussain (a.s) and the reward and status of tears that are shed for him.

So after all this, it still surprises me that people can underestimate the importance of emotion. One of the justifications that often crops up is our geography- how can we spread the message of Imam Hussain (a.s) if all we do is weep and cry? Well, the way I see it is this- someone who doesn't believe in any creator, doesn't subscribe to any religion or belief system can encourage charity, volunteering and every other good act under the sun (in fact, they do very often), but we have something so unique and unparalleled. The passion, the immensity and the incompatible emotion surrounding Imam Hussain (a.s) is something that nobody else has, and instead of using it, we are often downplaying it to make his message 'blend in' with the society in which we live, thinking that it will be more accepted when in fact, it's doing exactly what we say it will- blend in. It just becomes another 'one of those' and no longer stands out.

Of course, there are obvious lines that common sense draws so I am not suggesting that we cross those. What I am saying however, is that we need to realise just how powerful emotion is and make use of it! Haven't we all watched one fictional movie or read one fictional book at the end of which we are somehow touched or inspired by it, that we want to change something, or go and emulate some character and do something huge? Well, Ashura was the most blatant reality; it happened, its heroes existed! Don't our hearts melt when we hear about Abbas's (a.s) surreal saga? And don't they break when we hear about the six month old's unspeakable martyrdom? So to underestimate its influence and power is a huge injustice to what happened. As Edward Gibbon has famously said,

'In a distant age and climate the tragic scene of the death of Hussain will awaken the sympathy of the coldest reader.'