There once stood a magnificent city, heir to centuries of civilisation, whose scholars were famed across the world for their brilliance and refinement. Within its towering walls, beneath domes adorned with gold and scripture, men of great intellect gathered daily to debate matters of the utmost subtlety. On one such day, a most pressing question seized their collective attention: whether angels, being creatures of pure spirit, possessed a definable gender.
The discussion was conducted with impeccable rigour. Quotations were drawn from the ancients, distinctions were refined to near-invisible threads, and voices rose—not in anger, but in scholarly enthusiasm. One argued that angels, lacking bodies, could not possess gender as humans understood it. Another insisted that divine order implied distinction, and distinction, surely, required classification. A third proposed that the question itself was flawed, though he spoke at such length that few remained certain what his objection had been.
Outside the chamber, however, the air trembled with a different kind of urgency. Messengers arrived breathless, bearing news that an army approached the city gates—disciplined, relentless, and very much unconcerned with metaphysical taxonomy. The walls, though ancient, were not invincible; the treasury, though once vast, had grown thin; and the people, though loyal, had grown weary.
A young attendant, pale with alarm, dared to interrupt the assembly. “My lords,” he said, “the enemy is upon us.”
There was, for a moment, an uneasy silence.
Then one of the elder scholars, adjusting his robe with measured calm, replied, “Yes, yes, quite so. But before we descend into such practicalities, we must first resolve whether angels are to be properly understood as gendered beings, lest our theological foundations remain incomplete.”
And so the debate continued.
The city, as cities tend to do when neglected in favour of abstraction, fell shortly thereafter—not with a dramatic flourish, but with the quiet inevitability of a conclusion long postponed.
In later years, observers would recount the tale with a knowing smile, invoking it whenever great nations found themselves entangled in elaborate arguments while their more immediate concerns waited patiently at the gates. Some used it as a caution against intellectual vanity; others, more cynically, wielded it to dismiss any discourse that required patience or depth.
For in truth, the story was never about angels at all. It was, and remains, about the peculiar human talent for confusing the urgent with the intricate, and for mistaking the appearance of thought for the act of thinking itself.
The satirical tale of a civilisation absorbed in abstract disputation whilst neglecting the realities pressing upon its gates finds an unexpected yet profound echo in the verses of the Qur'an, particularly in Surah Ar-Rum. For just as that anecdote illustrates the peril of misjudging priorities in moments of crisis, the Qur’anic narrative turns our attention to a real historical upheaval—the clash between the Byzantine Empire and the Sasanian Empire—and reframes it not as a trivial curiosity, but as a sign laden with meaning. Here, history is not a backdrop for idle speculation, but a living testament through which deeper truths about faith, decline, and eventual restoration are revealed. In this way, the Qur’an redirects the human gaze from fruitless abstraction towards reflection grounded in reality, where even the rise and fall of empires become lessons for those willing to perceive.
The opening of Surah Ar-Rum constitutes a remarkably compelling passage, not only for its linguistic elegance but also for its historical context and its profound indication of prophethood. Allah says,الۤمّۤ ۚAlif, Lām, Meem.غُلِبَتِ الرُّوْمُۙThe Byzantines have been defeatedفِيْٓ اَدْنَى الْاَرْضِ وَهُمْ مِّنْۢ بَعْدِ غَلَبِهِمْ سَيَغْلِبُوْنَۙIn the nearest land [meaning near the Arab lands, namely Syria and Palestine]. But they, after their defeat, will overcomeفِيْ بِضْعِ سِنِيْنَ ەۗ لِلّٰهِ الْاَمْرُ مِنْ قَبْلُ وَمِنْۢ بَعْدُ ۗوَيَوْمَىِٕذٍ يَّفْرَحُ الْمُؤْمِنُوْنَۙWithin three to nine years. To Allāh belongs the command [i.e., decree] before and after. And that day the believers will rejoice [The time between the defeat of the Romans (614-615) and their victory (622 AD) was about seven years]The first verses begin with the disjointed letters “Alif Lām Mīm,” followed by the statement “Ghulibatir-Rūm,” and continue with “Fī adnal-arḍi wa hum min ba‘di ghalabihim sayaghlibūn, fī biḍ‘i sinīn,” forming a concise yet deeply meaningful proclamation.In essence, these verses declare that the Romans have been defeated, as indicated by the phrase “Ghulibatir-Rūm.” The expression “Fī adnal-arḍ” is commonly understood to refer to a nearby land, or alternatively to a low-lying region, with some classical scholars associating it with the area surrounding the Dead Sea. The subsequent phrase, “Wa hum min ba‘di ghalabihim sayaghlibūn,” conveys that, after this defeat, they shall indeed overcome their adversaries. This is further qualified by “Fī biḍ‘i sinīn,” which denotes a period of a few years, generally interpreted as three to nine years.Historically, these verses refer to a major conflict between the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire and the Sassanid Persian Empire. At the time of revelation, the Romans, who were regarded as People of the Book, had suffered a severe and humiliating defeat at the hands of the Persians. This development was met with satisfaction by the polytheists of Mecca, who perceived the Persians as being closer to their own religious disposition, since both rejected revealed monotheistic scripture. Conversely, the Muslims were disheartened, as they felt a theological affinity with the Romans on account of their adherence, albeit imperfect, to a monotheistic tradition.What renders this passage particularly extraordinary is its prophetic dimension. The Qur’an foretold that the Romans would regain victory within a limited span of years, even though, by all conventional measures of the time, such a recovery appeared highly improbable. The Byzantine defeat had been so devastating that any expectation of a swift resurgence would have seemed unrealistic. Nevertheless, history records that under the leadership of Heraclius, the Byzantine Empire not only recovered but also decisively defeated the Persians within the very timeframe indicated in the verses.From this account emerge several enduring lessons. It affirms the importance of maintaining faith in the divine decree, even when circumstances appear overwhelmingly unfavourable. It also instils a sense of optimism in the face of hardship, reminding believers that defeat does not necessarily signify a final end. Furthermore, it underscores the truthfulness of revelation, serving as a sign of the prophethood of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Finally, it offers hope to the believers, suggesting that just as the Romans rose again after their defeat, so too may the faithful anticipate eventual relief and victory in accordance with divine wisdom.The relationship between the opening of Surah Ar-Rum and modern geopolitics should not be understood as a form of specific prediction; rather, it reflects enduring patterns, principles, and a way of interpreting the history of power. When approached with care and depth, these verses offer a framework of thought that remains strikingly relevant in the contemporary world.
The statement that the Romans would regain victory within a few years suggests that global power is never static and that defeat does not necessarily signify permanence. Instead, it indicates that nations or civilisational blocs that appear to have fallen may, under the right circumstances, rise again. In modern terms, one may observe how Amerika Serikat has endured various crises, including military setbacks and financial turmoil, yet continues to function as a dominant global force. Similarly, China, once weakened during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, has re-emerged as a principal rival to the West, while Rusia, following the collapse of the Uni Soviet, has once again asserted itself as a significant geopolitical actor. The broader lesson is that present defeat does not determine future destiny.
During the time of the Prophet (ﷺ), the Muslims felt a degree of affinity with the Romans because both belonged, in different ways, to traditions connected to revealed scripture, whereas the Meccan polytheists inclined towards the Persians. This dynamic illustrates how alliances are often shaped not purely by material interests, but also by perceived proximity in belief, identity, or worldview. In the modern context, international alignments are frequently influenced by ideological divisions, such as those between democratic and authoritarian systems, as well as by economic interests and shared cultural or religious identities. Contemporary global arrangements, including the contrast between Western blocs and emerging alternative coalitions, demonstrate that political alignments are rarely grounded in moral considerations alone, but are instead driven by overlapping layers of identity and interest.
At the time these verses were revealed, the idea that the Romans could recover from their crushing defeat seemed highly improbable to most observers. Yet history records that they did indeed rise again under the leadership of Heraclius. This highlights the profound uncertainty inherent in geopolitical developments. In the modern era, similarly unexpected transformations have occurred, such as the sudden dissolution of the Uni Soviet, which many analysts failed to anticipate, and the rapid ascent of China, which has reshaped the global balance of power. Major conflicts, too, often evolve in ways that defy initial expectations. The implication is that geopolitical analysis frequently falters when it becomes overly fixated on present conditions while neglecting the roles of time, leadership, contingency, and, from a theological perspective, the will of God.
The verses also introduce a spiritual dimension to historical events, as indicated by the notion that, on the day of victory, the believers would rejoice. This suggests that geopolitical occurrences are not entirely neutral in a spiritual sense, but may carry meanings that resonate with faith and moral consciousness. In the modern world, many conflicts, particularly in regions such as the Middle East, continue to possess religious undertones, and Muslim communities often experience a sense of emotional and spiritual connection to these events. Consequently, a believer is encouraged not to perceive global affairs merely as political phenomena, but also as elements of a broader framework of trial, hope, and divine order.Furthermore, the passage reflects what may be understood as a manifestation of divine law operating within history, wherein cycles of decline, recovery, victory, and eventual decline recur over time. This pattern corresponds to the widely recognised concept of the rise and fall of civilisations. Historical examples, ranging from the Roman and Ottoman empires to the British Empire, illustrate that no worldly power remains permanent. The contemporary international system likewise appears to be in a state of continuous transition, moving towards new configurations of balance. The essential lesson here is that no global power is absolute or everlasting.
It is important, however, to approach these verses with caution and intellectual integrity. They should not be treated as a direct map of modern political realities, nor should they be invoked to justify particular conflicts without careful reflection. Likewise, it would be misguided to claim inevitable victory in any situation without due effort, wisdom, and ethical consideration.
The opening of Surah Ar-Rum should not be regarded merely as a historical account of a past conflict, but rather as a mirror reflecting the dynamics of global power, a source of hope amidst apparent defeat, and a reminder that the course of history ultimately unfolds under the sovereignty of the Divine will.
