An-Nabaʾ 78:21–30

The Questions These Verses Raise

The six Questions follow the passage from the destination awaiting its addressees to the final rebuke. This overview gives the conclusion of each discussion; the evidence, alternatives and qualifications follow under the linked Question.

Q1. Why is Hell a lookout, and for whom is it an abode?

Verses 21–22 describe Hell as ⁧مِرْصَادًا⁩ (mirṣādan), a lookout, and ⁧مَآبًا⁩ (maʾāban), an abode or place of return. A lookout intercepts those who approach; an abode is where people remain. Understanding that difference explains why the commentators ask whether everyone passes by Hell, although only some become its inhabitants.^[1]

Summary of the explanations

1. A destination prepared before the gathering

The previous verses describe the appointed Day and the gathering. The words ⁧كَانَتْ مِرْصَادًا⁩ (kānat mirṣādan), “has been a lookout,” now show the destination prepared for that Day. Hell does not become a possibility only when its inhabitants arrive.

This also provides a reason for understanding Hell as already created. Al-Rāzī draws that conclusion from its preparation. He extends it to Paradise because, he says, no one affirms the prior creation of one while denying it for the other. Ibn ʿĀshūr connects the preparation specifically with the appointed Day.^[2]

Other explanations concern how kānat, “was,” describes that preparation:

• Hell was a lookout in Allah’s knowledge and decree.
• The verb expresses its becoming a lookout.
• Hell resembles a watcher who has long awaited the people’s arrival.

Al-Qaffāl relates the first two explanations; al-Rāzī also relates the third. Each explains the verb’s relation to the announced judgment, rather than specifying a date when Hell was created.^[3]

2. What the lookout image explains

A mirṣād is a place from which someone watches for an approaching person. The image can refer to Hell’s keepers awaiting its inhabitants. It can also picture Hell itself as a vigilant guard, or attribute watchfulness to it so emphatically that it seems to embody that quality. In each explanation, those whose entry has been decreed cannot slip past it (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[4]

The image addresses a particular mistake: people may feel safe because the punishment is out of sight. An ambush is dangerous before the approaching person sees it. Similarly, living without concern for the judgment does not make a person safe from it (Mawdūdī).^[5]

Watching leads to detention and recompense. This explains the related interpretations of Hell as a place of confinement and as watching people to requite their deeds (al-Qurṭubī, al-Māwardī).^[6]

3. Does everyone pass, or does the lookout await only the condemned?

Passage and residence. On one interpretation, the way to Paradise passes by the Fire. Some pass safely; others are detained. Verse 21 describes the watching, while verse 22 identifies those for whom Hell becomes an abode (al-Ṭabarī).^[7]

Al-Ḥasan illustrates the distinction:

⁧ألا إنّ على الباب الرّصَد، فمن جاء بجواز جاز، ومن لم يجئ بجواز احتبس.⁩

“At the gate there are watchers: whoever comes with permission passes, and whoever does not come with permission is detained.”^[8]

Permission to pass differs from being detained. Qatādah likewise explains the verse through crossing the Fire before entering Paradise.^[9]

A related explanation identifies the watchers as Paradise’s keepers, receiving the believers who pass. Why reception rather than protection from the heat? Ibn Kamāl reasons that the believers’ light overcomes the Fire, so they do not need such protection. He cites the hadith related from Yaʿlā ibn Umayyah ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ in which the Fire says:

⁧جُزْ يَا مُؤْمِنُ، فَقَدْ أَطْفَأَ نُورُكَ لَهَبِي⁩

“Pass, believer, for your light has extinguished my flame.”

Ibn Kamāl calls the hadith sound; al-Haythamī identifies a weak transmitter in its isnād. Ibn Kamāl’s explanation therefore depends on a hadith whose reliability is assessed differently.^[10]

Awaiting the condemned. The other interpretation concerns the keepers awaiting those destined for punishment. It suits the terrifying description of Hell and the identification of the transgressors immediately afterward. Al-Burūsawī prefers this explanation, while relating the interpretation of general passage through al-Rāghib.^[11]

The difference affects the connection between the verses:

1. If the lookout awaits the transgressors specifically, “for the transgressors” identifies whom it awaits; “an abode” further describes their destination.
2. If the lookout concerns everyone’s passage, the first statement is complete before verse 22 specifies that Hell is an abode for the transgressors.

Al-Rāzī explains the alternatives through joining or pausing after mirṣādan. Encountering the place and remaining there are therefore distinct in the interpretation of these verses.^[12]

4. Why call Hell a “place of return”?

The word ⁧مَآب⁩ (maʾāb) can mean the dwelling or settled destination to which someone finally comes. It need not imply that the transgressors lived in Hell before their earthly lives (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[13]

A figurative explanation begins from their having been created for the Fire. Their original disposition, the revealed books and the messengers are pictured as though they had brought them away from it; denial then becomes a return. The repeated “as though” makes this a comparison, rather than a history of earlier residence (al-Biqāʿī).^[14] Quṭb similarly pictures their arrival as a homecoming after a temporary stay on earth, expressing how fittingly their destination receives them.^[15]

5. Who are the transgressors in these verses?

⁧الطَّاغِينَ⁩ (al-ṭāghīn) means people who exceed the proper bounds. The word can describe rebellion against Allah through disbelief and wrongdoing against people through injustice (al-Māwardī, al-Qurṭubī).^[16]

The surrounding verses identify the people meant here more specifically. Verses 27–28 describe rejection of the reckoning and emphatic denial of Allah’s signs. The warning therefore concerns first the deniers addressed at the beginning of the sūrah. Al-Maẓharī instead identifies a group of ahl al-ahwāʾ, people of heterodox beliefs, rather than unbelievers. Q2 examines his explanation and the response based on verses 27–28.^[17]

This explains why Hell is described before the reward of the God-fearing. The passage either continues the announcement of the Day, replacing “you” with “transgressors” to state why they are punished, or answers what will happen after the cosmic upheaval by identifying the first group whose fate is described. Both explanations connect the judgment to the denial already addressed (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[18]

The warning also concerns Muslims in proportion to their conduct. Treating Allah’s rights lightly, or violating people’s rights with arrogance and contempt, resembles the rebellion condemned here. Ibn ʿĀshūr distinguishes that attitude from a sin committed when desire overcomes a person. His warning does not equate every sinner with those who die in unbelief.^[19]

Hell is prepared to intercept those destined to enter it, and it becomes the abode of the transgressors described here. The next question concerns their stay: do the “ages” in verse 23 imply that it will end?

And Allah knows best.

Q2. Do the “ages” of verse 23 mean that punishment will end?

An age can be immense and still come to an end. But does the end of an age mean that the people of Hell leave? Verse 23 speaks of ⁧أَحْقَابًا⁩ (aḥqāban, “ages”), without giving their total. The length of one age, the number of ages and what happens when an age ends are different questions.^[20]

The immediate question is what this verse says about the deniers described in the passage. The larger question is whether punishment could eventually end through Allah’s pardon or through purification. Answering the first requires the word and its context; answering the second requires the other revealed descriptions of punishment, release and mercy.

The discussion therefore proceeds from the verse to the proposed exceptions, then to mercy and justice, before bringing the evidence together. Its conclusion is that “ages” gives these deniers no promise of release. The reasons for that conclusion, and the replies to the alternatives, matter more than a duration calculated in years.

1. What the word “ages” does, and does not, establish

A period can end without the succession ending

The ordinary meaning of ⁧أَحْقَاب⁩ (aḥqāb) is long periods of time. The related ⁧حِقْبَة⁩ (ḥiqbah) likewise describes a period, as in Mutammim ibn Nuwayrah’s recollection of companionship and separation:

⁧وَكُنَّا كَنَدْمَانَيْ جَذِيمَةَ حِقْبَةً ... مِنَ الدَّهْرِ حَتَّى قِيلَ لَنْ يَتَصَدَّعَا⁩

⁧فَلَمَّا تَفَرَّقْنَا كَأَنِّي وَمَالِكًا ... لِطُولِ اجْتِمَاعٍ لم نبت ليلة معا⁩

“For a time we were like Jadhīmah’s two drinking companions, until people said they would never part. Then, when we parted, it was as though Mālik and I, after our long companionship, had not spent a single night together.”^[21]

The companionship seemed inseparable; after separation, its long duration seemed to vanish. This use of ⁧حِقْبَة⁩ (ḥiqbah) explains a stretch of time, not a fixed number of years or an endless duration. It helps explain the vocabulary without deciding how long the people of Hell remain there.

The early explanations give very different lengths for one age, from eighty or three hundred years to seventy thousand, sometimes with its days reckoned as a thousand earthly years. These differences concern the length of an age and the counting of its days.^[22] No established Prophetic evidence fixes one duration, according to al-Qurṭubī. Mufti Muḥammad Shafī consequently understands the different reckonings as expressing an extremely long time rather than selecting one number.^[23]

Even a fixed length would leave the decisive question unanswered: how many ages follow one another?

An age can end without the succession of ages ending. On the successive-periods explanation, whenever one age ends, another follows. The verse does not say “five ages” or “ten ages,” which would give a total. It evokes vast stretches of time without naming a final one. Qatādah gives the successive-periods explanation; al-Qurṭubī explains why the absence of a stated total matters.^[24]

There is a grammatical objection: ⁧أَحْقَاب⁩ (aḥqāb) is a plural of fewness, ordinarily extending to ten. If an age were eighty years, ten ages would be eight hundred. Making each day longer would enlarge that finite number, not turn it into infinity.

The answer is that a plural of fewness can also be used for many. Its form need not give a maximum total; even a little of such punishment should move a person to faith and restraint. Alternatively, the ages could describe the duration of one kind of punishment rather than the whole stay. Al-Ṭūfī presents both answers to the numerical objection.^[25]

Successive ages do not require the dictionary meaning of ⁧أَحْقَاب⁩ (aḥqāb) to be “infinity.” To decide whether the succession ends, we need to know who is being described and what the Qurʾān says elsewhere about their fate. Joining the ordinary time-word to those other descriptions, rather than making the word alone mean infinity, is Ibn ʿĀshūr’s explanation.

Even if “ages” suggested an ending, 5:37 directly denies departure: ⁧وَمَا هُم بِخَـٰرِجِينَ مِنْهَا⁩, “but never are they to emerge therefrom.” An inferred endpoint cannot overturn that direct statement (al-Rāzī, al-Shinqīṭī).^[26]

The ages may describe a change of punishment

The alternative just mentioned connects the ages to the deprivation described in verses 24–25: no cooling relief and no drink except ⁧حَمِيم⁩ (ḥamīm) and ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq). When those periods end, another kind of punishment follows. Al-Ṭabarī prefers this explanation and supports it from 38:55–58. After naming ⁧حَمِيم⁩ (ḥamīm) and ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq), that passage adds ⁧وَءَاخَرُ مِن شَكْلِهِۦٓ أَزْوَٰجٌ⁩, “And other [punishments] of its type [in various] kinds” (38:58). Al-Shinqīṭī also prefers it, while allowing the successive-ages explanation.

Al-Ṭabarī separately compares the early reports. He judges the report through Qatādah from al-Rabīʿ ibn Anas, that the ages do not end, sounder than Khālid ibn Maʿdān’s application to sinful monotheists.^[27]

This explanation depends on how verses 23–24 connect. There are two grammatical possibilities:

• A condition during the ages: “in them” refers to those periods. The denial of relief then describes one kind of punishment during that time.

• A fresh statement about Hell: “in it” refers to Hell. The denial of relief describes their suffering there more generally.

Al-Rāzī explains both possibilities in discussing al-Zajjāj; Abū Ḥayyān prefers the fresh statement.^[28]

Could the verse concern people who eventually leave?

The successive-ages and change-of-punishment explanations both retain the deniers as the people described. A further interpretation changes the people concerned instead.

This proposal retains the temporal meaning of “ages” but applies it to people whose punishment ends. Khālid ibn Maʿdān refers this verse, together with the exception ⁧إِلَّا مَا شَآءَ رَبُّكَ⁩, “except what your Lord should will” (11:107), to the people of ⁧تَوْحِيد⁩ (tawḥīd) among those who face the ⁧قِبْلَة⁩ (qiblah, direction of prayer). Al-Qurṭubī likewise allows the verse to concern sinful people who leave after ages.

Al-Maẓharī identifies the group more specifically as ⁧أَهْل الْأَهْوَاء⁩ (ahl al-ahwāʾ), people of heterodox beliefs who retain ⁧تَوْحِيد⁩ (tawḥīd), rather than unbelievers. On his explanation, the duration concerns that group’s stay, not the fate of all the Fire’s inhabitants.^[29]

The attraction of this interpretation is that it allows each duration to end while retaining the unbelievers’ permanent punishment. If “they remain for days” suggests an endpoint, why would replacing days with immensely longer ages remove that suggestion? Al-Maẓharī regards an unending stay described through bounded periods as misleading or without a clear purpose. He therefore applies the verse to a different group, while affirming that the clear descriptions of unbelievers’ punishment establish its permanence.^[30]

The difficulty is the passage’s own identification of the people being punished. It says ⁧إِنَّهُمْ كَانُوا۟ لَا يَرْجُونَ حِسَابًا⁩, “Indeed, they were not expecting an account” (78:27), followed by ⁧وَكَذَّبُوا۟ بِـَٔايَـٰتِنَا كِذَّابًا⁩, “And denied Our verses with [emphatic] denial” (78:28).

Those verses explain the punishment through the people’s failure to expect a reckoning and their emphatic denial of Allah’s signs. These are deniers, not believers described only by their sins. The passage’s ending therefore rules out making these dwellers sinful believers (Abū Ḥayyān, al-Shinqīṭī). The successive-ages explanation retains the same deniers throughout the passage, rather than changing its principal subjects to obtain a finite stay.^[31]

To answer this difficulty, al-Maẓharī identifies groups whose beliefs, in his view, fit verses 27–28: some, in his description, deny punishment for their followers; others hold beliefs which contradict the Qurʾān’s praise of the Companions. His interpretation therefore requires these specific beliefs, rather than sinfulness alone.^[32]

The narration cited in support does not explain this verse itself; applying it to these “transgressors” is al-Maẓharī’s inference, as Mufti Muḥammad Shafī points out. Its narrator Sulaymān ibn Muslim al-Khashshāb is also very weak according to al-Haythamī; Ibn al-Qaysarānī says that narrating from him is not permitted.^[33]

Verse 30 says ⁧فَذُوقُوا۟ فَلَن نَّزِيدَكُمْ إِلَّا عَذَابًا⁩, “So taste [the penalty], and never will We increase you except in torment.”

The final threat therefore matters to the interpretation of “ages.” If the earlier verse had promised release, the threat of nothing but increased punishment in 30 might seem to replace that promise. This explains the proposal, transmitted from Muqātil ibn Ḥayyān, that 30 abrogates 23. Al-Ṭabarī rejects it because 23 is a statement about what will happen, not a command or prohibition whose operative rule is being withdrawn.^[34]

Al-Qurṭubī allows a different use of ⁧نَسْخ⁩ (naskh) here: ⁧تَخْصِيص⁩ (takhṣīṣ), identifying sinful monotheists as the group intended. This would explain whom the statement concerns, rather than cancel a prediction that had previously been true.^[35]

Al-Maẓharī, who understands these “transgressors” as a group retaining ⁧تَوْحِيد⁩ (tawḥīd), explains verse 30 as increased punishment “while you remain in the Fire.” For him the rebuke does not prevent that group’s later departure.^[36]

Less usual explanations of the word and its pronoun

A less usual explanation changes the meaning of the word rather than the duration. A year with little rain or produce can be described by the verb ⁧حَقِبَ⁩ (ḥaqiba); a person who misses his provision can be called ⁧حَقِب⁩ (ḥaqib). Al-Zamakhsharī’s proposal understands ⁧أَحْقَابًا⁩ (aḥqāban) as the plural of that adjective.

On this interpretation, the word is a ⁧حَال⁩ (ḥāl), a circumstantial description of the people: they remain deprived and destitute. The following denial of relief explains their deprivation. The word describes their condition, not a period which will expire.^[37]

The objection is that the adjective of deprivation is less familiar than the ordinary time-word, which Abū Ḥayyān prefers. The numerical explanations from ʿAlī ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ and others also presuppose periods of time. Al-Maẓharī treats these as ⁧مَرْفُوع⁩ (marfūʿ) in effect, deriving from the Prophet ﷺ because their subject cannot be determined by personal opinion. That argument about their origin still depends on whether the narrations are authentic.^[38]

A less familiar proposal refers the pronoun in verse 23 to the earth mentioned earlier; only the following denial of relief would describe Hell. Al-Qurṭubī mentions it, but prefers residence in the Fire.^[39]

The ordinary time-meaning and the passage’s identification of the deniers therefore remain important. Neither an immense duration nor the end of one age establishes their release. To defend an eventual ending, a further argument is needed from other descriptions of the Hereafter.

2. Do the revealed exceptions and acts of pardon promise an ending?

The word “ages” gives no date of release. That does not yet answer every argument for an ending, because release is not the only ending proposed. Three events must be distinguished:

1. Some people leave Hell while others remain. Releasing some prisoners does not empty the prison.
2. Hell becomes entirely empty but still exists. No inhabitants remain, but the place itself has not been destroyed.
3. Hell itself ceases to exist. This would end the place as well as its inhabitants’ stay there.^[40]

There is also a proposal that residence continues but pain becomes pleasure. None of these is identical to the claim that all created things, including Paradise, must perish. An argument for punishment ending can affirm everlasting bliss while treating punishment differently. These distinctions explain why a proof of someone’s release is not automatically a proof of universal release, an empty Hell, or its destruction.^[41]

The case for an eventual ending joins two kinds of reasoning: expressions about duration and Allah’s will, and arguments that punishment achieves a purpose before mercy follows. Ibn al-Qayyim examines these reasons in Ḥādī al-Arwāḥ, closing with an appeal to Allah’s doing as He wills.^[42]

Abiding “forever” and remaining subject to Allah’s will

One reason offered for an ending concerns the strength of the expressions of duration. Long-lasting things may be called ⁧خَوَالِد⁩ (khawālid), enduring, although they can be moved or altered. A life sentence can also end through a ruler’s pardon. On Riḍā’s comparison, settled residence need not mean that departure is absolutely impossible.^[43]

The difficulty is that the emphatic term ⁧أَبَدًا⁩ (abadan), “forever,” also describes punishment. The expression ⁧خَـٰلِدِينَ فِيهَآ أَبَدًا⁩ appears in the description of Hell’s path, “they will abide therein forever” (4:169), and of its inhabitants, “Abiding therein forever” (33:65). The warning in 72:23 likewise names ⁧نَارَ جَهَنَّمَ خَـٰلِدِينَ فِيهَآ أَبَدًا⁩, “the fire of Hell; they will abide therein forever.”

Emphatic permanence is therefore not confined to Paradise, as Riḍā acknowledges in his later discussion. He appeals to the breadth of Allah’s mercy and will, which human beings do not fully comprehend, rather than repeating the whole comparison.^[44]

The case for an ending therefore needs more than the possibility of a long but finite period. Its scriptural argument connects “ages” to two exceptions concerning Allah’s will:

• The Fire as a residence: ⁧ٱلنَّارُ مَثْوَىٰكُمْ خَـٰلِدِينَ فِيهَآ إِلَّا مَا شَآءَ ٱللَّهُ⁩, “The Fire is your residence, wherein you will abide eternally, except for what Allāh wills” (6:128).

• Duration subject to the Lord’s will: ⁧خَـٰلِدِينَ فِيهَا مَا دَامَتِ ٱلسَّمَـٰوَٰتُ وَٱلْأَرْضُ إِلَّا مَا شَآءَ رَبُّكَ⁩, “[They will be] abiding therein as long as the heavens and the earth endure, except what your Lord should will” (11:107).

The reasoning proceeds in two steps:

1. If the stated duration ends, or Allah wills a different state after it, punishment need not continue forever.
2. Verse 11:108 also mentions an exception for Paradise, but adds ⁧عَطَآءً غَيْرَ مَجْذُوذٍ⁩, “a bestowal uninterrupted.” The different endings are understood to permit an ending for the Fire which is excluded for Paradise.^[45]

The reply to the verses denying departure is that the inhabitants stay as long as the Fire remains. Sinful monotheists may leave while it continues; its later destruction would be a different event. Thus a person may be unable to leave an intact prison without the prison itself being indestructible. Ibn Abī al-ʿIzz presents this reasoning for the eventual-ending view before examining the contrary evidence.^[46]

The distinction between abiding in the Fire and the Fire’s own duration is also developed in the poem ⁧تعليل أقدار الجليل⁩, “Explaining the purposes of the Majestic One’s decrees,” in the appendix to al-Ḥumayd’s al-Furqān. The poem affirms the inhabitants’ abiding but denies the Fire’s endless duration. It connects that distinction with mercy and purification.^[47]

The complete 163-couplet poem, translation and notes are in the appendix. Its relevant arguments are considered here beside the questions they address. On the distinction between residence and the Fire’s continuance, it says:

⁧إن النزاعَ على الجحيم بذاتها ... فهي التي تفنى بلا نكران⁩

The question concerns Hell itself: it is that which perishes, without denial.

⁧فنقول في تخليهم أبداً بها ... ما دام فيها حامي النيران⁩

We therefore speak of their [abiding?] there forever, so long as the Fire remains hot within it.

⁧بل فيهما تخليدهم أبداً بها ... لكن دوام النار شيء ثاني⁩

Rather, both speak of their abiding there forever; the Fire’s own continuance is a different matter.^[48]

The poem denies departure and death while affirming the threatened punishment. Later, however, it describes Iblīs and his host being destroyed, or a punished person entering a new condition of mercy. The poem does not explain every relationship between its earlier denials and its later proposals.^[49]

The response to this distinction. Both abodes continue because Allah maintains them; neither exists independently of Him. An exception affirming His will can express that dependence without announcing that He will end either abode. The possibility that He could end a created thing is not a prediction that He will do so.

The exception can also concern sinful believers who leave Hell, rather than Hell’s destruction. Both explanations read the exception alongside the clearer descriptions of the final destinations. Al-Suhaym, comparing al-Qurṭubī’s discussions, prefers the affirmation of divine will and also considers the sinful-believer explanation plausible.^[50]

The evidence for permanence goes beyond the word ⁧خُلُود⁩ (khulūd), abiding. It joins three descriptions:

• The deniers do not leave the Fire.
• They receive neither death nor relief.
• Verse 78:30 announces increased punishment.

These descriptions are considered alongside the release of sinful monotheists through intercession. Release for that group does not become a promise of relief for everyone.^[51]

Pardon of a threat: what do the examples establish?

Another approach does not begin by asking when the Fire might cease to exist. It asks whether a threat must be inflicted on everyone it concerns. Withholding a promised benefit deprives a person of what was promised. Forgiving a threatened punishment means forgoing a deserved penalty. In the discussion quoted from Ibn al-Qayyim, the first is a failure to fulfil a promise; the second is generosity.

From that distinction, he reasons that Allah’s certain fulfilment of His promises does not require Him to exact every threatened punishment from every person concerned.^[52]

Remitting a threat can be praised in ordinary human dealings. In the anecdote quoted in al-Manār, ʿAmr ibn ʿUbayd asks whether Allah can fail to fulfil what He has promised. Abū ʿAmr ibn al-ʿAlāʾ answers by distinguishing a promise of benefit from a threat of harm, then cites poetry of ʿĀmir ibn al-Ṭufayl, unnamed in the anecdote:

⁧وَلَا يَرْهَبُ ابْنُ الْعَمِّ مَا عِشْتُ سَطْوَتِي ... وَلَا أَخْتَنِي مِنْ صَوْلَةِ الْمُتَهَدِّدِ⁩

My cousin does not fear my might as long as I live; and I am not cowed by the assault of one who threatens.

⁧وَإِنِّي وَإِنْ أَوْعَدْتُهُ وَوَعَدْتُهُ ... لَمُخْلِفٌ إِيعَادِي وَمُنْجِزٌ مَوْعِدِي⁩

Though I have threatened him and promised him, I will leave my threat unfulfilled and fulfil my promise.^[53]

The second couplet makes the distinction clear. Keeping one’s promise of good and declining to inflict threatened harm can belong together. The witness establishes that contrast in the Arabic usage; it does not identify which afterlife warnings Allah will remit.

The same hope appears in the complete couplet quoted from Kaʿb ibn Zuhayr:

⁧نُبِّئْتُ أَنَّ رَسُولَ اللهِ أَوْعَدَنِي ... وَالْعَفْوُ عِنْدَ رَسُولِ اللهِ مَأْمُولُ⁩

I have been told that Allah’s Messenger has threatened me; yet pardon is hoped for from Allah’s Messenger.^[54]

Hope of pardon is not an assertion that a threat was empty. In this argument it illustrates the distinction between a deserved penalty and the possibility of forgiveness.

Anas ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ relates:

⁧مَنْ وَعَدَهُ اللَّهُ عَلَى عَمَلٍ ثَوَابًا فَهُوَ مُنْجِزُهُ لَهُ، وَمَنْ وَعَدَهُ عَلَى عَمَلٍ عِقَابًا فَهُوَ فِيهِ بِالْخِيَارِ⁩

Whoever Allah has promised a reward for an act, He will fulfil it for him; whoever He has threatened with punishment for an act remains subject to His choice.^[55]

This gives the argument a different kind of witness from the poetry: a statement about Allah’s fulfilling reward and His choice concerning punishment. However, the wording alone does not identify exactly who will have their threatened punishment remitted.

For example, the Qurʾān warns of severe, lasting punishment for deliberate killing (4:93): ⁧وَمَن يَقْتُلْ مُؤْمِنًا مُّتَعَمِّدًا فَجَزَآؤُهُۥ جَهَنَّمُ خَـٰلِدًا فِيهَا⁩, “But whoever kills a believer intentionally - his recompense is Hell, wherein he will abide eternally.” However, because the offender might still believe in Allah (⁧تَوْحِيد⁩, tawḥīd), this severe warning does not erase the possibility of eventual pardon. While this shows that strong threats and forgiveness can exist together for believers, the standard view does not extend this possibility of forgiveness to those who die rejecting faith entirely.^[56]

The hadith warning against suicide includes the emphatic term “forever.” Abū Hurayrah ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ relates that the Prophet ﷺ said:

⁧وَمَنْ قَتَلَ نَفْسَهُ بِحَدِيدَةٍ، فَحَدِيدَتُهُ فِي يَدِهِ، يَجَأُ بِهَا فِي بَطْنِهِ فِي نَارِ جَهَنَّمَ خَالِدًا مُخَلَّدًا فِيهَا أَبَدًا⁩

Whoever kills himself with an iron weapon will have it in his hand, stabbing himself with it in his belly in the Fire of Hell, abiding there, made to remain there forever.^[57]

This case therefore does not rely only on a bare occurrence of ⁧خُلُود⁩ (khulūd): it confronts ⁧أَبَدًا⁩ (abadan) as well. It reasons from the eventual release of sinful monotheists to the possibility of a further exception. The permanence account’s reply is not to weaken the warning, but to keep the believer’s remaining ⁧تَوْحِيد⁩ (tawḥīd) distinct from dying in unbelief. The two sides do not differ merely about whether the emphatic word exists.

Whether these examples can be extended to people who die in unbelief is therefore the question the pardon argument must answer.^[58]

Two objections challenge the extension from sinful believers to those who die in unbelief. Al-Shinqīṭī asks:

1. Why would punishment begin? If the generosity of pardon were enough by itself to prove that punishment must end, the same reason would allow it never to begin.

2. Whom has Allah threatened? Verse 50:14 says ⁧كُلٌّ كَذَّبَ ٱلرُّسُلَ فَحَقَّ وَعِيدِ⁩, “All denied the messengers, so My threat was justly fulfilled.” The ⁧فَاء⁩ (fāʾ), “so,” connects that consequence to their denial. The rebuke then recalls ⁧وَقَدْ قَدَّمْتُ إِلَيْكُم بِٱلْوَعِيدِ⁩, “while I had already presented to you the threat [i.e., warning]” (50:28), followed by ⁧مَا يُبَدَّلُ ٱلْقَوْلُ لَدَىَّ⁩, “The word [i.e., decree] will not be changed with Me” (50:29). This is a stated judgment concerning denial, not an unspecified threat.

Verse 4:48 distinguishes ⁧شِرْك⁩ (shirk, associating partners with Allah) from lesser sins: ⁧إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ لَا يَغْفِرُ أَن يُشْرَكَ بِهِۦ وَيَغْفِرُ مَا دُونَ ذَٰلِكَ لِمَن يَشَآءُ⁩, “Indeed, Allāh does not forgive association with Him, but He forgives what is less than that for whom He wills.” General praise of pardon does not overturn the judgment concerning those who deny the messengers.^[59]

Release beyond the intercessors’ requests

The hope of mercy also draws on release beyond what the intercessors have requested. After angels, prophets and believers have interceded, Abū Saʿīd’s hadith describes what Allah does Himself. In that hadith, the Prophet ﷺ describes Allah saying:

⁧شَفَعَتِ الْمَلاَئِكَةُ وَشَفَعَ النَّبِيُّونَ وَشَفَعَ الْمُؤْمِنُونَ وَلَمْ يَبْقَ إِلاَّ أَرْحَمُ الرَّاحِمِينَ⁩

The angels have interceded, the prophets have interceded, and the believers have interceded; none remains but the Most Merciful of the merciful.

⁧فَيَقْبِضُ قَبْضَةً مِنَ النَّارِ فَيُخْرِجُ مِنْهَا قَوْمًا لَمْ يَعْمَلُوا خَيْرًا قَطُّ قَدْ عَادُوا حُمَمًا فَيُلْقِيهِمْ فِي نَهْرٍ فِي أَفْوَاهِ الْجَنَّةِ يُقَالُ لَهُ نَهْرُ الْحَيَاةِ⁩

He takes a handful from the Fire and brings out people who never did any good, who have become charcoal, and casts them into a river at the entrances of Paradise called the River of Life.^[60]

The people released are described as people who “never did any good,” and their bodies have become charcoal. Their release follows that of the people whom the intercessors were directed to find. From these details, Ibn al-Qayyim reasons that divine mercy cannot be judged only by the deeds human beings can count.

A further example shows why judging a person only by an outward failure can miss the fear of Allah within him. In Abū Saʿīd’s narration, a man who had been given wealth tells his sons that he has never done good and orders them to burn, crush and scatter his remains. They do so, but Allah gathers him. The Prophet ﷺ relates:

⁧فَجَمَعَهُ اللَّهُ عَزَّ وَجَلَّ، فَقَالَ مَا حَمَلَكَ، قَالَ مَخَافَتُكَ، فَتَلَقَّاهُ بِرَحْمَتِهِ⁩

Allah, mighty and majestic, gathered him and asked, “What moved you?” He said, “Fear of You.” So He received him with His mercy.^[61]

The attempted escape is interpreted by Ibn al-Qayyim as involving a failure concerning resurrection and divine power. Nevertheless, the man received mercy for his fear. The example supports forgiveness despite grave failure: Allah knows the person’s inward condition, which an observer cannot judge from an isolated act. It does not make a mistaken belief correct.

Anas ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ also relates that the Prophet ﷺ said:

⁧يَقُولُ اللَّهُ أَخْرِجُوا مِنَ النَّارِ مَنْ ذَكَرَنِي يَوْمًا أَوْ خَافَنِي فِي مَقَامٍ⁩

Allah says, “Bring out of the Fire whoever remembered Me one day or feared Me in some circumstance.”^[62]

The argument considers remembrance and fear across a whole human life, rather than judging it only by its worst moment.

Yet the question under discussion is release for those who die in unbelief, not whether Allah’s mercy exceeds human requests. Release after the intercessors’ requests does not identify those people as unbelievers; the example of the man who feared Allah concerns his inward condition. Neither bringing people out of the Fire nor forgiving grave failure announces that everyone will leave or that Hell will disappear.

The early statements invoked for an empty Hell raise the same question: which people are meant?

Do early statements establish that everyone leaves?

The case for an eventual ending does not rest only on a theory about mercy. It also invokes statements attributed to early Muslims. Their wording and their transmission must be considered. The saying attributed to ʿUmar ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ is:

⁧لَوْ لَبِثَ أَهْلُ النَّارِ فِي النَّارِ كَقَدْرِ رَمْلِ عَالِجٍ لَكَانَ لَهُمْ عَلَى ذَلِكَ يَوْمٌ يُخْرَجُونَ فِيهِ⁩

Even if the people of the Fire remained in the Fire for as much as the sand of ʿĀlij, they would still have a day on which they were brought out.^[63]

Ibn al-Qayyim’s explanation treats “the people of the Fire” as its settled inhabitants, in distinction from sinful believers whose eventual release is already admitted. That makes the saying relevant to the wider claim.

Its isnad, however, runs through al-Ḥasan from ʿUmar, whom he did not hear. Ibn al-Qayyim’s presentation praises the earlier transmitters and reasons that al-Ḥasan would not have spoken so firmly without receiving it.

The critical note reproduced in al-Kifāyah answers that an intermediary remains unnamed: confidence in the known transmitters does not identify or assess the missing person. The two paths to al-Ḥasan do not remove that gap.

An athar attributed to Abū Hurayrah ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ says:

⁧مَا أَنَا بِالَّذِي لَا أَقُولُ إِنَّهُ سَيَأْتِي عَلَى جَهَنَّمَ يَوْمٌ لَا يَبْقَى فِيهَا أَحَدٌ⁩

I am not one who refuses to say that a day will come upon Hell when no one remains in it.^[64]

Here al-Kifāyah calls the isnad sound and cites al-Albānī and al-Arnaʾūṭ. Yet the transmitter ʿUbayd Allāh ibn Muʿādh adds that his companions understood the people concerned to be the monotheists.

Even an unrestricted statement that a place is empty would not, by itself, mean that the place no longer existed. Saying “no one is in the house” leaves a house in which no one is present (al-Ṣanʿānī). These are separate answers about the people intended and the inference from emptying to destruction.

Similarly, the statement attributed to Abū Saʿīd ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ that the divine-will exception governs the Qurʾān’s warnings can affirm Allah’s will without identifying a particular ending. Al-Ṣanʿānī’s answer is that general governing language does not itself express the destruction.^[65]

An exception, an act of pardon and the release of a group are therefore not interchangeable proofs. None of the examples examined so far establishes the Fire’s destruction or the release of everyone who dies in unbelief. The argument from mercy attempts to explain why an ending might nevertheless follow from the purpose of punishment itself.

3. Do mercy and justice require punishment to end?

Purification: would punishment remove its own cause?

Pardon and release show that punishment need not continue for every person who enters Hell. The argument from purification asks a further question: could punishment eventually remove the reason for punishing anyone?

The reasoning distinguishes a benefit desired for itself from a painful means of achieving a benefit. Divine beneficence is understood as an end; punishment removes an evil or brings about a good. If the good has been achieved, what further purpose would unending pain serve? This gives a proposed reason for everlasting reward and everlasting punishment to differ, rather than assuming that their durations must match.^[66]

For punishment to end through purification, the corruption that occasions it must be removable. Ibn al-Qayyim develops that possibility through four connected propositions:

1. Corruption is acquired; it is not the soul’s original created condition.
2. Repentance, good deeds and trials can remove corruption in this life.
3. If corruption remains at death, punishment can serve as a further means of purification.
4. Once the cause requiring punishment disappears, continued punishment would no longer perform that work.

On this explanation, residence lasts according to the cause requiring punishment.^[67]

Two comparisons explain why pain might serve a merciful purpose:

• Refining metal: fire removes impurities mixed with gold, silver or iron. The purpose is to separate the metal from what spoils it, not to make the treatment continue for its own sake.

• Treating disease: a compassionate physician may cause severe pain through repeated cauterization or the removal of a diseased limb. Pain can accompany care when it treats a real disorder.

The argument applies these comparisons to a soul damaged by its own choices. Severity alone does not show an absence of mercy. But treatment which can never be completed, it reasons, needs a further explanation.^[68]

The medical comparison immediately raises an objection: a physician may hurt a patient whom he loves, whereas punishment follows anger at wrongdoing. But anger and benefit need not exclude one another. A prescribed penalty both punishes and purifies. That is Ibn al-Qayyim’s answer to the objection.^[69]

The more difficult question is whether this possibility becomes a certainty for everyone: will punishment remove every person’s corruption?

Verse 6:28 says ⁧وَلَوْ رُدُّوا۟ لَعَادُوا۟ لِمَا نُهُوا۟ عَنْهُ⁩, “And even if they were returned, they would return to that which they were forbidden.” If people would return to the very conduct that brought them to punishment, their unbelief is not being treated as a passing fault in someone whose faith remains. Ibn al-Qayyim presents this objection before answering it.

If the cause of punishment persists, its consequence persists. The objection therefore challenges the assumption that everyone undergoing punishment must eventually become fit for another destination.^[70]

His answer distinguishes a condition which persists now from one which can never change. It accepts that these people would return to wrongdoing in the state described, but asks whether corruption acquired by choice has become inseparable from them.

It also distinguishes their first confrontation with the Fire from undergoing punishment for ages. The later part of the quotation understands 6:28 to describe the first confrontation, before the proposed purification. Its question is therefore whether revelation establishes that their corruption can never be removed.^[71]

The answer from permanence challenges this proposed distinction between seeing punishment and being purified by it. Al-Shinqīṭī gives three reasons:

1. They have seen the punishment clearly. They are told ⁧فَبَصَرُكَ ٱلْيَوْمَ حَدِيدٌ⁩, “so your sight, this Day, is sharp” (50:22). Verse 19:38 adds ⁧أَسْمِعْ بِهِمْ وَأَبْصِرْ يَوْمَ يَأْتُونَنَا⁩, “How [clearly] they will hear and see the Day they come to Us.” In his explanation, seeing the punishment openly is like undergoing it. If they would return to wrongdoing after seeing it, returning after undergoing it is no less possible.

2. The stated purpose is retribution. Verse 2:174 says ⁧وَلَا يُزَكِّيهِمْ⁩, “nor will He purify them”; 3:178 adds ⁧وَلَهُمْ عَذَابٌ مُّهِينٌ⁩, “and for them is a humiliating punishment.” Al-Shinqīṭī therefore understands their punishment as humiliation and retribution, not the treatment assumed by the medical comparison.

3. Any future good is already known to Allah. Verse 8:23 says ⁧وَلَوْ عَلِمَ ٱللَّهُ فِيهِمْ خَيْرًا لَّأَسْمَعَهُمْ⁩, “Had Allāh known any good in them, He would have made them hear.” The indefinite ⁧خَيْرًا⁩ (khayran), “any good,” includes every instance within that conditional statement. A good emerging at some later time would not be hidden from Him.^[72]

The treatment comparison depends on eventual purification for everyone concerned. The verses cited by al-Shinqīṭī instead describe persistent rejection and retribution. The extent of Allah’s mercy and the wisdom of punishment do not, by themselves, announce universal release.

Mercy precedes anger: does that promise universal release?

The purification argument depends on every cause for punishment eventually disappearing. The precedence of mercy over anger is offered as a further reason for expecting that outcome. Abū Hurayrah ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ relates that the Prophet ﷺ said:

⁧إِنَّ اللَّهَ كَتَبَ كِتَابًا قَبْلَ أَنْ يَخْلُقَ الْخَلْقَ إِنَّ رَحْمَتِي سَبَقَتْ غَضَبِي، فَهْوَ مَكْتُوبٌ عِنْدَهُ فَوْقَ الْعَرْشِ⁩

Allah wrote a writing before creating creation: “My mercy has preceded My anger.” It is written with Him above the Throne.^[73]

To infer an ending from this hadith, the argument distinguishes Allah’s attribute from its created effect:

• Allah’s mercy is distinct from the created blessing which follows from it. Paradise is not the uncreated attribute of mercy.
• Allah’s anger is distinct from the created punishment which follows from it. The Fire is not the attribute of anger itself.

If mercy precedes and overcomes anger, the argument asks, how should their effects relate? It proposes that punishment should not continue in a way which defeats mercy’s precedence.^[74]

On Ibn al-Qayyim’s explanation, beneficence and punishment differ in three related respects:

• Their purposes: beneficence is desired for itself; punishment serves a further purpose. Pardon, mercy and bounty are more beloved than vengeance and the mere exacting of a claim.

• Allah’s Names and Acts: He names Himself the Forgiving and Merciful, while describing painful punishment as His Act, without making “the Punisher” a corresponding Name. A painful created event can therefore serve wisdom and mercy without evil becoming an attribute of Allah.

• The cause of anger: mercy and pleasure endure, but anger need not be a constant condition. Ibn al-Qayyim considers anger as an act subsisting in Allah and, alternatively, as an act whose created effect is separate from Him. On neither explanation is anger inseparable in the manner of life, knowledge and power.

The proposed passage from punishment to mercy consequently depends on the cause for anger ceasing.^[75]

Mercy also precedes the wrongdoing which brings punishment. Creation, upbringing, provision, health and the sending of messengers come first; what calls for punishment arises later from the creature. Ibn al-Qayyim includes the mercy shown to children of non-Muslim families before any wrongdoing of their own. He further distinguishes deeds directed towards the passing world from deeds directed towards Allah and the lasting abode: different objects of action need not have identical consequences.^[76]

The argument also compares how the Qurʾān speaks about punishment and bliss. It describes ⁧عَذَابَ يَوْمٍ عَظِيمٍ⁩, “the punishment of a tremendous Day” (6:15); ⁧عَذَابَ يَوْمٍ أَلِيمٍ⁩, “the punishment of a painful day” (11:26); and ⁧عَذَابُ يَوْمٍ عَقِيمٍ⁩, “the punishment of a barren Day” (22:55). In each expression, punishment is attached to a Day. By contrast, Ibn al-Qayyim observes that bliss is never described as “the bliss of a day.”

He takes this difference as a further reason why punishment and reward need not last equally long: punishment may belong to a period which ends, while bliss continues. The comparison supports his broader argument that affirming everlasting bliss does not require affirming everlasting punishment.^[77]

Reward and punishment also differ in what precedes them: a gift need not be earned, whereas punishment requires wrongdoing. Paradise provides an example of a gift received without previous deeds. Anas ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ relates that the Prophet ﷺ said:

⁧يَبْقَى مِنَ الْجَنَّةِ مَا شَاءَ اللَّهُ أَنْ يَبْقَى ثُمَّ يُنْشِئُ اللَّهُ تَعَالَى لَهَا خَلْقًا مِمَّا يَشَاءُ⁩

There remains of Paradise what Allah wills should remain; then Allah, exalted is He, creates for it creatures as He wills.^[78]

A place in Paradise can thus be given without previous deeds. Ibn al-Qayyim uses this difference to challenge the assumption that the two created abodes must have identical durations; he regards a narration about new creatures being created for the Fire as a narrator’s reversal.^[79]

These arguments establish reasons for distinguishing reward from punishment. They must also explain a hadith which joins the breadth of mercy to the seriousness of punishment. Abū Hurayrah ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ relates that the Prophet ﷺ said:

⁧إِنَّ اللَّهَ خَلَقَ الرَّحْمَةَ يَوْمَ خَلَقَهَا مِائَةَ رَحْمَةٍ، فَأَمْسَكَ عِنْدَهُ تِسْعًا وَتِسْعِينَ رَحْمَةً، وَأَرْسَلَ فِي خَلْقِهِ كُلِّهِمْ رَحْمَةً وَاحِدَةً، فَلَوْ يَعْلَمُ الْكَافِرُ بِكُلِّ الَّذِي عِنْدَ اللَّهِ مِنَ الرَّحْمَةِ لَمْ يَيْأَسْ مِنَ الْجَنَّةِ، وَلَوْ يَعْلَمُ الْمُؤْمِنُ بِكُلِّ الَّذِي عِنْدَ اللَّهِ مِنَ الْعَذَابِ لَمْ يَأْمَنْ مِنَ النَّارِ⁩

When Allah created mercy, He created it as a hundred mercies. He kept ninety-nine with Him and sent one mercy among all His creatures. If the unbeliever knew all the mercy with Allah, he would not despair of Paradise; and if the believer knew all the punishment with Allah, he would not feel safe from the Fire.^[80]

Mercy benefits both the righteous and the wicked even while wrongdoing continues. Why would mercy fail after punishment had removed corruption?

The hadith itself joins hope with fear. The unbeliever’s hope is not a promise that everyone who dies in unbelief will enter Paradise, just as the warning to the believer does not say that every believer will be punished. The argument for universal release still needs to establish the premise identified above: that punishment will remove every person’s corruption.

A finite life and an unending consequence

Even if a person deserves punishment, why should wrongdoing within a finite lifetime have an unending consequence? Making the punishment enormously long would not answer this objection: a very large finite duration still differs from infinity. Al-Karmī presents the objection in those terms. Al-Rāzī raises it under verse 26, even considering a brief act of disbelief; his immediate reply is that Allah judges according to His sovereign will, not by exchanging a number of years here for a number of years hereafter.^[81]

The poem in al-Ḥumayd’s appendix illustrates why merely increasing the number of years cannot answer this objection:

⁧لو أنَّ طَيراً ينقل الرمل الذي ... في أرضنا في دائم الأحيان⁩

⁧في كل ألفٍ من سنين زماننا ... ضُرِبَتْ بألفٍ كامل الإتقان⁩

⁧يأتي فيأخذُ حَبَّةً من رَمْلها ... فَنِيَتْ رِمال السهل والقيعان⁩

⁧والنار باقيةٌ يُعذَّبُ أهلها ... بِئسَ اعتقادً جاء بالبهتان⁩

If a bird were to carry away the sand upon our earth throughout successive times, coming at every thousand of our years multiplied by a fully completed thousand to take a grain of its sand, the sands of plains and level lands would be exhausted while the Fire remained, its inhabitants punished: what an evil belief, bringing falsehood!^[82]

The bird comparison makes the finite-life objection concrete. A bird removes one grain of the world’s sand at intervals of a million earthly years. However immense that finite task would be, the sand would eventually be exhausted; on the permanence interpretation which the poet opposes, the punishment would still continue. His objection is that no enlargement of a finite penalty becomes the same as an endless one. The answers must therefore explain why the consequence endures, not simply choose a larger number. They concern persistent unbelief, the condition of the soul and what revelation says about their future.

One answer concerns the commitment to unbelief rather than the years available to act on it. The unbelievers’ lives ended, but their intention to continue in unbelief was not abandoned. Continuing punishment is related to that continuing intention (the mufti Saʿdī, سعدى المفتى).

The explanation does not make a finite lifetime numerically infinite. It distinguishes the duration of a chosen commitment from the time available to act on it.^[83]

The objection to this answer is that an intention which never became a deed should not be the reason for endless suffering. Riḍā instead considers the corruption formed in the soul by unbelief and wrongdoing. The difference concerns what deserves punishment: a determination to persist, or the condition produced by the deeds themselves.^[84]

A related objection asks what benefit requires the punishment to continue. Allah has no need which another’s pain could satisfy. Those being punished suffer; the blessed have their own delights; and compassionate people grieve at another’s suffering rather than gain from it. This objection, presented by al-Karmī, questions the purpose of endless suffering, not whether wrongdoing warrants punishment.^[85]

The argument from purification does not need to deny every benefit of punishment in order to question endless pain. It can allow correction of the punished person, the blessed person’s delight at evil’s defeat, or both. The further question is whether achieving those benefits requires suffering to continue forever. Ibn al-Qayyim denies that the fullness of Paradise’s delight requires enemies to suffer without end.^[86]

If the purpose includes correcting the person, the proposed change must be inward: confession, blame directed at oneself rather than Allah, and a settled resolve not to return to what angers Him. In Ibn al-Qayyim’s reasoning, Allah can bring about such a change if He wills; it would not give the person a right to demand admission to Paradise.

Verse 39:75 ends ⁧وَقُضِىَ بَيْنَهُم بِٱلْحَقِّ وَقِيلَ ٱلْحَمْدُ لِلَّهِ رَبِّ ٱلْعَـٰلَمِينَ⁩, “And it will be judged between them in truth, and it will be said, "[All] praise to Allāh, Lord of the worlds."” Ibn al-Qayyim understands this as an occasion when the whole creation, including those punished, acknowledges Allah’s justice. If that acknowledgment fulfils a purpose of judgment, it asks, why must evil’s consequences remain forever?

Acknowledging justice, however, is not the same as announcing release. For the proposed ending to follow, that acknowledgment would have to complete every purpose of punishment. The verse’s praise does not itself state that conclusion.^[87]

A different answer concerns what certainty about the future does to present experience. If Paradise’s people knew their delight would cease, that knowledge would distress them even while they enjoyed it. If the Fire’s people knew their suffering would end, that expectation would give them relief even while they suffered. Al-Karmī therefore includes finality in the difference between reward and punishment.^[88]

This answers the question about the experience of an ending, not the separate claim that punishment will purify everyone. To establish the finality itself, evidence about the inhabitants’ future is still needed. The announcement that death has ended, considered in the conclusion below, addresses precisely that future.

Would an end to suffering mean release, or a different experience in Hell?

The arguments so far concern pardon, purification and the reason for punishment continuing. Could suffering instead end without anyone leaving and without the Fire being destroyed? The proposal that pain turns into pleasure attempts that answer. Al-Jāmī describes three stages:

1. Punishment first overwhelms both body and inward experience.
2. When the inhabitants cease expecting their requests to be granted and resign themselves to their condition, their inward torment ends.
3. After ages of familiarity, the remaining bodily condition ceases to hurt and eventually becomes pleasurable.^[89]

The quoted comparison is a dung beetle which finds its own surroundings agreeable but is distressed by the scent of roses. On the theory’s terms, even a breeze from Paradise would become unwelcome to people whose nature had adapted to the Fire. The comparison is intended to explain pleasure through a changed relation between a creature and its surroundings. It does not describe the Fire being destroyed, its inhabitants leaving, or punishment merely becoming less intense while remaining painful.^[90]

The difficulty is that permanent residence would then cease to be permanent punishment. After quoting this proposal, al-Burūsawī rejects the ending of unbelievers’ punishment and affirms that the revealed text deserves to be followed. He distinguishes continued residence from an ending of outward pain, and also quotes al-Qayṣarī’s explanation.^[91]

Poetry also expresses the proposal that pleasure may replace pain within the Fire. The quotation attributed to Ibn ʿArabī in the Ḥādī al-Arwāḥ discussion reads:

⁧فَلَمْ يَبْقَ إِلَّا صَادِقُ الْوَعْدِ وَحْدَهُ وَمَا لِوَعِيدِ الْحَقِّ عَيْنٌ تُعَايِنُ وَإِنْ دَخَلُوا دَارَ الشَّقَاءِ فَإِنَّهُمْ عَلَى لَذَّةٍ فِيهَا نَعِيمٌ مُبَايِنٌ نَعِيمُ جِنَانِ الْخُلْدِ وَالْأَمْرُ وَاحِدٌ وَبَيْنَهُمَا عِنْدَ التَّجَلِّي تَبَايُنٌ يُسَمَّى عَذَابًا مِنْ عُذُوبَةِ طَعْمِهِ وَذَاكَ لَهُ كَالْقِشْرِ وَالْقِشْرُ صَايِنٌ⁩

Only the One true to His promise remains; no witnessed reality remains for the True One’s threat. Even if they enter the abode of misery, they enjoy a pleasure there whose bliss is different from the bliss of the gardens of eternity. The matter is one, yet at manifestation there is a difference between the two. It is called “punishment” from the sweetness of its taste; that is to it like a rind, and the rind protects.^[92]

Here the proposal goes beyond pardon. The poem calls the experience within the abode pleasurable and plays on the resemblance between ⁧عَذَاب⁩ (ʿadhāb), punishment, and ⁧عُذُوبَة⁩ (ʿudhūbah), sweetness. That is Ibn ʿArabī's wordplay, not a definition establishing that Qurʾānic punishment means sweetness. Ibn al-Qayyim rejects this proposal because it cancels real punishment.

For Ibn al-Qayyim, two opposed errors must be avoided: the Muʿtazilī insistence on executing the threat without releasing anyone who enters, and the proposal just examined that the Fire becomes pleasurable, removing real punishment. For him, distinguishing promise from threat does not deny that punishment is real or deserved.^[93]

Ending pain by ending consciousness is a different proposal. Abū al-Hudhayl is said to have held that the inhabitants of both abodes eventually cease to move or feel. This would remove the experience of delight as well as suffering; it is neither continuing bliss nor purification followed by mercy.^[94]

Hope of eventual mercy is not an assurance of safety

The arguments about eventual mercy must be distinguished from the claim that a privileged group will serve a fixed stay before another people replaces it. That claim gives the group an assurance of departure. The discussion quoted from Ibn al-Qayyim answers it through the Qurʾān’s rejection of such assurances:

• In 2:80, the claim is ⁧لَن تَمَسَّنَا ٱلنَّارُ إِلَّآ أَيَّامًا مَّعْدُودَةً⁩, “Never will the Fire touch us, except for [a few] numbered days.” The answer asks ⁧أَتَّخَذْتُمْ عِندَ ٱللَّهِ عَهْدًا⁩, “Have you taken a covenant with Allāh?” Verse 2:81 then describes those encompassed by sin as ⁧أَصْحَـٰبُ ٱلنَّارِ ۖ هُمْ فِيهَا خَـٰلِدُونَ⁩, “the companions of the Fire; they will abide therein eternally.”
• Verses 3:23–24 describe people turning away from scriptural judgment because of the same confidence in a short stay. Their error is explained as ⁧وَغَرَّهُمْ فِى دِينِهِم مَّا كَانُوا۟ يَفْتَرُونَ⁩, “they were deluded in their religion by what they were inventing.”

A guaranteed departure requires an assurance from Allah, not confidence invented by people. Rejecting that supposed guarantee is not the same as rejecting every different proposal that punishment might end.^[95]

Al-Ḥumayd’s appendix poem answers the objection that hope of eventual mercy would make sin safe:

⁧لو قيل إنك بعد عُمرٍ طائلٍ ... تسعون عاماً دُونما نقصان⁩

If you were told that after a long life, ninety years with none missing,

⁧تُلقى بنارٍ ساعةً من نارنا ... أَيَكونُ عَيشكَ قبل ذلك هاني⁩

You would be cast into our fire for an hour, would your life before that be pleasant?

⁧اعمل إذاً ما شِئتَ دون تَخَوُّفٍ ... إن كنتَ تَصبِرُ في الجحيم الآني⁩

Then do whatever you wish without fear, if you can endure the blazing Hell.

⁧عِش آمناً إن كان عندك مَوثِقاً ... ممن عَصَيتَ مُؤيداً بأمان⁩

Live secure, if you have a binding assurance of safety from the One whom you disobeyed.^[96]

The warning against sin answers a practical objection: if punishment could end, would that make sin safe? Even an hour in earthly fire, the poet replies, would overshadow the pleasure of a long life before it. His challenge to “do whatever you wish” depends on being able to bear Hell or possessing an assurance of safety from Allah. It rebukes confidence in sin; it grants no such assurance.

The practical warning does not decide the duration. It shows why hoping for eventual mercy would not make punishment harmless or give a person a right to disregard Allah’s warning. The duration still has to be determined from the evidence about the final state.

4. What follows when the evidence is considered together?

After these arguments, the conclusion cannot depend on assigning infinity to one time-word. The case for permanence brings together explicit descriptions of continuing punishment, the special release of sinful believers, the received teaching of the religion and its creedal statements. It also appeals to reason: justice cannot treat righteousness and wickedness as though they were the same, and a corrupt condition which persists continues to have its consequence.^[97]

Al-Ṭaḥāwī’s creed states that Paradise and Hell are created and do not perish. Ibn Abī al-ʿIzz quotes this declaration before examining the arguments about their continuance.^[98]

An appeal to agreement raises a historical objection which is distinct from interpreting the verses. The reply quoted in al-Manār distinguishes three ways in which agreement might be established:

1. A teaching necessarily known in the religion.
2. Agreement stated by qualified scholars.
3. A known statement which receives no opposition.

Appealing to the early statements examined above, the reply claims that agreement on the Fire’s own endlessness has not been demonstrated in any of these forms. That historical claim depends partly on what those statements establish.

The reply also distinguishes reason’s recognition of just recompense from knowledge of its duration. Reason alone does not determine an endless penalty; revelation must decide that question.^[99]

The positive evidence includes a final announcement to both abodes. This is the hadith with which al-Karmī closes his discussion of permanence. Abū Saʿīd ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩ relates that death is brought in the form of a black-and-white ram. The people of Paradise and the Fire recognize it; it is slaughtered, and the announcement follows:

⁧يَا أَهْلَ الْجَنَّةِ، خُلُودٌ فَلاَ مَوْتَ، وَيَا أَهْلَ النَّارِ، خُلُودٌ فَلاَ مَوْتَ⁩

People of Paradise, abiding and no death! People of the Fire, abiding and no death!^[100]

The distinct Abū Hurayrah narration describes the two groups’ expectations when death is brought and placed on the ⁧صِرَاط⁩ (ṣirāṭ), the bridge:

• The people of Paradise look ⁧خَائِفِينَ وَجِلِينَ أَنْ يُخْرَجُوا مِنْ مَكَانِهِمُ الَّذِي هُمْ فِيهِ⁩, “afraid and anxious lest they be brought out of the place they are in.”
• The people of the Fire look ⁧مُسْتَبْشِرِينَ فَرِحِينَ أَنْ يُخْرَجُوا مِنْ مَكَانِهِمُ الَّذِي هُمْ فِيهِ⁩, “hopeful and glad at the prospect of being brought out of the place they are in.”

They recognize death; it is slaughtered on the bridge. Both groups then hear:

⁧خُلُودٌ فِيمَا تَجِدُونَ لاَ مَوْتَ فِيهِ أَبَدًا⁩

“Abiding in what you experience; there is never any death in it.”^[101]

This is why the denial of a relieving death is more than a lexical observation about “ages.” It belongs to the announced condition of the two abodes. Al-Karmī’s argument about knowing that one’s state will not end draws its force from this finality. Both abodes continue because Allah keeps them in existence, not because a created thing possesses independent, indestructible existence.

Conclusion

⁧أَحْقَابًا⁩ (aḥqāban) describes succeeding long periods. A finite age is not a final age, and the plural promises no date of release. The people described here are the deniers of verses 27–28. The clearer statements about their fate, including the denial of departure and of a relieving death, support permanent punishment. That conclusion follows from the passages read together, not from treating ⁧أَحْقَاب⁩ (aḥqāb) as a synonym for infinity.^[102]

The release of sinful monotheists remains distinct from the announced condition of those who die in unbelief. Evidence for that release does not cancel the descriptions of continuing punishment.^[103] The arguments from purification, pardon and a finite earthly life do not establish release for everyone; nor does an empty place necessarily mean a destroyed one. Verse 23 gives its deniers no assurance of a final age after which they will be free.

And Allah knows best.

Q3. Why is relief denied, and what are ⁧حَمِيم⁩ (ḥamīm) and ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq)?

Verses 24–25 deny cooling relief and a drink that quenches thirst. In their place come scalding water, ⁧حَمِيم⁩ (ḥamīm), and ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq), explained here primarily as foul discharge. Why does the verse introduce these punishments with “except,” and what evidence explains the words?^[104]

Summary of the explanations

1. Does ⁧بَرْد⁩ (bard) mean coolness or sleep?

The most direct meaning of ⁧بَرْدًا⁩ (bardan) is coolness that relieves heat. A cool breeze reaches the body from outside; water relieves the burning of thirst within. The coordination with ⁧وَلَا شَرَابًا⁩ (wa-lā sharāban), “nor drink,” brings these two ordinary forms of relief together. Neither is available to the people described (al-Rāzī, Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[105]

Cooling relief can include wind, shade and rest, because each eases the sufferer’s condition. Al-Zajjāj includes cooling wind, shade and sleep. The explanations “rest” and “relief,” attributed to al-Ḥasan, ʿAṭāʾ and Ibn Zayd, likewise identify the benefit denied to Hell’s inhabitants.^[106]

Sleep is also a reported interpretation in its own right. It can ease a thirsty person’s distress, so it may be named after its cooling effect. The Arabic proverb ⁧مَنَعَ الْبَرْدُ الْبَرْدَ⁩ means, on this explanation, “The cold prevented sleep.” The same word is used first for physical cold and then for the rest that cold prevents.^[107]

The poetic evidence makes the usage more concrete:

⁧فَإِنْ شِئْتِ حَرَّمْتُ النِّساءَ سِواكُمُ ... وَإِنْ شِئْتِ لَمْ أطْعَمْ نُقاخًا وَلا بَرْدا⁩

“If you wish, I will forbid myself women other than you; and if you wish, I will taste neither pure water nor sleep.”^[108]

⁧نُقَاخًا⁩ (nuqākhan) means pure, clear water. Understanding bard as sleep gives the speaker two distinct things to forgo: water and sleep.^[109]

A second witness depends on the final word in a description of a woman’s lips:

⁧بَرَدَتْ مراشِفُها عليَّ فصَدَّني … عنها وعن قُبُلاتِها البَرْدُ⁩

“Her lips grew cool against me; then sleep kept me from her and from her kisses.”^[110]

The lips are cool, while the final bard is understood as drowsiness interrupting the encounter. Al-Ṭabarī attributes the poetry to “the Kindī,” identified in al-Turkī’s note as Imruʾ al-Qays.^[111]

Why prefer cooling here? An expression used figuratively in poetry need not have that meaning in every setting. Al-Ṭabarī accepts the connection between sleep and cooling, but prefers the predominant Arabic meaning. Al-Rāzī similarly prefers familiar cooling to the rarer figurative use. Ibn ʿĀshūr finds the poetry insufficiently clear to establish sleep here, especially beside the denial of drink: the pair naturally describes relief from heat and thirst.^[112]

2. Can coolness be “tasted”?

One reason offered for preferring sleep is that people speak of tasting sleep, whereas cold seems to be felt rather than tasted. But the contrast does not decide the question. Sleep is not tasted by the tongue either. The verb can describe direct experience beyond food and drink: bodily pain, inward distress, or the consequences of an action. Cool air can therefore be experienced as something whose relief is “tasted” (al-Rāzī, Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[113]

Poetry about shade illustrates this wider use:

⁧فَلَا الظِّلُّ مِنْ بَرْدِ الضُّحَى تَسْتَطِيعُهُ ... وَلَا الْفَيْءُ أَوْقَاتَ الْعَشِيِّ تَذُوقُ⁩

“You cannot reach the shade that brings the forenoon’s coolness, nor taste the returning shade at evening.”^[114]

Experiencing shade is described as tasting it. The poetry therefore illustrates enjoyment through a bodily sense other than the tongue; “taste” does not require the sleep interpretation. The poet is identified as Ḥumayd ibn Thawr, and the tree in the poem is explained as representing a woman.^[115]

Another explanation takes bard as a pleasant cold drink. With that meaning, tasting retains its ordinary relation to what enters the mouth. One witness attributed to Ḥassān b. Thābit is:

⁧يسقون من ورد البريض عَلَيْهِمُ ... بَرْدًا يُصَفِّقُ بِالرَّحِيقِ السَّلْسَلِ⁩

“They are given, from the water of al-Burayḍ coming to them, a cool drink mixed with smooth-flowing wine.”^[116]

The evidence depends on whether the noun is bard, a cool drink, or ⁧بَرَدَى⁩ (Baradā), the river in Damascus. Abū Ḥayyān notes that grammarians recite the river name. With that form, the poetry refers to water from Baradā; it does not establish “cool drink” as a meaning of bard. The translation above follows the form under discussion.^[117]

The other witness he gives is anonymous:

⁧أَمَانِيُّ مِنْ سُعْدَى حِسَانٌ كَأَنَّمَا ... سَقَتْكَ بِهَا سُعْدَى عَلَى ظَمَأٍ بَرْدَا⁩

“Lovely hopes from Suʿdā, as though through them Suʿdā had given you a cool drink when you were thirsty.”^[118]

Here the thirst-and-drinking comparison explains the proposed cool-drink sense. Taken together, these witnesses establish the real alternatives: beneficial cooling, sleep named for its cooling effect, and a cold drink. Context favors the first as the main explanation here. The denial of drink then adds the inward relief of thirst to the outward relief of heat; the sleep interpretation remains a reported possibility, not the only meaning Arabic permits.^[119]

A further interpretation: death. In the expression “he struck him with the sword and he became cold,” becoming cold signifies dying. Al-Kirmānī therefore allows bard to mean death in Lubāb al-Tafāsīr, while describing the interpretation as rare in Gharāʾib al-Tafsīr. The verse would then deny death as an escape from suffering. The expression explains the possibility; the immediate contrast between cooling and drink still favors relief from heat here.^[120]

3. Why does the denial of cooling allow painful cold?

A second objection asks how the verse can deny cold if some explanations of ghassāq identify it with extreme, painful cold. The answer lies in what is denied. Cooling is sought because it brings relief. Cold that torments a person performs the opposite function. Denial of beneficial coolness therefore does not promise protection from every painful form of cold. Al-Rāzī makes this distinction in answering the objection, and al-Qurṭubī preserves al-Zajjāj’s distinction between welcome cooling and harmful zamharīr, extreme cold.^[121]

4. ⁧حَمِيم⁩ (ḥamīm): scalding water

⁧حَمِيمًا⁩ (ḥamīman) means intensely hot water. What ordinarily relieves thirst instead increases suffering. Al-Rāzī rejects molten copper as its meaning here; the context also excludes the separate use of ḥamīm for an intimate friend.^[122]

Ibn Zayd describes the liquid more specifically as tears collected and given to Hell’s inhabitants to drink.^[123]

5. ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq): discharge, cold or stench?

The explanation of ⁧غَسَّاقًا⁩ (ghassāqan) as foul discharge follows the Arabic root’s use for flowing: an eye sheds tears and a wound releases fluid. The punishment’s context identifies the repulsive kind of flow. Early explanations mention discharge from skin, wounds or eyes.^[124]

Why not darkness? The related word ghāsiq, “dark,” led to an explanation of a black, repellent drink, related by al-Rāzī. The discharge interpretation instead begins from the use of the root for an eye or wound exuding liquid. Comparing the Qurʾānic contexts, Bint al-Shāṭiʾ concludes that ghassāq here means the discharge of Hell’s inhabitants, a use developed from foul wound discharge.^[125]

Extreme cold is a different meaning from discharge. In al-Ṭabarī’s collection it is attributed to Ibn ʿAbbās ⁧رضي الله عنهما⁩ and to other early authorities; Mujāhid describes cold that cannot be borne. On that explanation, ḥamīm and ghassāq present opposing extremes of temperature. Neither relieves the suffering caused by the other. Foulness or stench is a further explanation, and can also be a property of the discharge rather than a replacement for it.^[126]

Can a liquid be intensely cold? Yes: coldness describes the liquid’s temperature, while flowing describes its movement. Al-Ṭabarī therefore combines discharge, extreme cold and stench in one explanation. This is his reason for joining meanings which some other commentators present separately.^[127]

The emphasis on stench also has basis in al-Ṭabarī’s discussion. He cites a hadith from Abū Saʿīd al-Khudrī ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩, attributed to the Prophet ﷺ:

⁧لَوْ أَنَّ دَلْوًا مِنْ غَسَّاقٍ يُهْرَاقُ إِلَى الدُّنْيَا لَأَنْتَنَ أَهْلَ الدُّنْيَا⁩

“If a bucket of ghassāq were poured into this world, it would fill the people of this world with stench.”^[128]

Al-Albānī grades it weak. ʿAbd al-Majīd al-Shaykh ʿAbd al-Bārī recognizes Darrāj Abū al-Samḥ’s weakness but judges the hadith ḥasan li-ghayrihi, acceptable through corroboration. Al-Ṭabarī cites it when explaining the foulness of ghassāq.^[129]

A separate athar is attributed to ʿAbd Allāh b. ʿAmr ⁧رضي الله عنهما⁩:

⁧هُوَ الْقَيْحُ الْغَلِيظُ، لَوْ أَنَّ قَطْرَةً مِنْهُ تُهْرَاقُ بِالْمَغْرِبِ لَأَنْتَنَ أَهْلَ الْمَشْرِقِ، وَلَوْ تُهْرَاقُ بِالْمَشْرِقِ لَأَنْتَنَ أَهْلَ الْمَغْرِبِ⁩

“It is thick pus. If a drop of it were poured in the west, it would fill the people of the east with stench; and if it were poured in the east, it would fill the people of the west with stench.”^[130]

This athar’s isnād is judged weak because it includes Ibn Lahīʿah. It describes the same extreme foulness.^[131]

The descriptions do not all identify the substance equally specifically. Alongside cold, discharge or fat, al-Māturīdī relates an unspecified punishment. His conclusion concerns its effect: Hell’s inhabitants find neither enjoyment nor rest in it.^[132]

A detailed description attributed to Shahr ibn Ḥawshab identifies ghassāq as a valley in Hell. It is given without an isnād or authenticity judgment in al-Bustān, so it cannot establish the valley’s existence or dimensions.^[133]

6. Was the word borrowed from another language?

Historical explanations also connect the word with other languages: a Persian expression for something disgusting, a Turkish expression for cold and foul-smelling, or stench in the language called Ṭakhāriyyah. Al-Rāzī and al-Suyūṭī relate these proposals.^[134]

The underlying question is whether a word shared by languages must be borrowed. One explanation allows the same expression to occur in Arabic and another language independently. Another allows foreign words which Arabs adapted before revelation. On that explanation, a word can be foreign in origin and Arabic in established use. Al-Suyūṭī favors admitting such adapted words and quotes Abū ʿUbayd’s reconciliation.^[135]

Jabal rejects the Turkish-borrowing proposal because corrupt liquid flowing from within agrees with the other physical uses of the Arabic root. Bint al-Shāṭiʾ’s explanation concerns the word’s meaning in the Qurʾānic context, rather than the date of its first use.^[136]

7. Why does “except” bring punishment rather than relief?

“Except” usually introduces something left out of a general statement. After the denial of coolness and drink, we might therefore expect it to introduce some small relief. Instead, it introduces scalding water and ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq). To understand the sentence, we need to distinguish two questions: does a harmful liquid still count as a “drink,” and which punishment corresponds to which denied comfort?

Does “drink” mean refreshment, or any liquid consumed?

If “coolness” and “drink” mean relief from heat and thirst, neither scalding water nor foul discharge belongs among those comforts. “Except” then means “but instead”: no relief comes; these punishments take its place. This is a disconnected exception, ⁧استثناء منقطع⁩ (istithnāʾ munqaṭiʿ), as al-Nasafī and al-Sakhāwī explain it.^[137]

But “drink” can also name a liquid that is consumed, whether it helps or harms. On that understanding, the sentence means that they have no drink except these punishing liquids. This is a connected exception, ⁧استثناء متصل⁩ (istithnāʾ muttaṣil): the exception still belongs to the category of drink. Abū Ḥayyān prefers this connection with “drink”; Dār al-Ṣaḥābah suggests that it may be preferable. The Iʿrāb discussion explains the constructions in more detail.^[138]

Which punishment corresponds to which denied comfort?

This second question depends on the meaning of ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq). If it means extreme cold, the contrast is between refreshing coolness and painful cold, and between a relieving drink and scalding water. The two punishments thus correspond to the two denied comforts in reverse order. Al-Ṭabarī pairs them this way, and al-Rāzī explains the pairing when discussing the extreme-cold interpretation. To show how a reader matches the members of two pairs by their meanings, al-Rāzī uses this poetry of Imruʾ al-Qays:

⁧كَأَنَّ قُلُوبَ الطَّيْرِ رَطْبًا وَيَابِسًا ... لَدَى وَكْرِهَا الْعُنَّابُ وَالْحَشَفُ الْبَالِي⁩

“As though the birds’ hearts, fresh and dry, beside its nest were jujubes and old, shrivelled dates.”^[139]

The fresh hearts resemble jujubes; the dry hearts resemble shrivelled dates. Each comparison becomes clear when we match the appropriate objects. In the verse, too, the meanings tell us which punishment corresponds to which denied comfort.

If ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq) means foul discharge instead, can it be included under “drink” at all? This brings us back to the first question. Al-Rāzī’s answer is that a liquid can in principle be drunk, even when it is repulsive. He therefore allows the exception to relate to drink alone, or to both denied comforts. If discharge is excluded from what “drink” means, the exception must instead be disconnected: “but instead,” not a remaining drink.^[140]

There is also a more direct contrast: scalding water is the opposite of cooling, while foul discharge is the opposite of a refreshing drink. This is Ibn ʿĀshūr’s explanation here. Because he understands “drink” as water that removes thirst, the discharge cannot be an exception within that category. It replaces the hoped-for relief. He describes hot water poured over bodies and discharge passing over burns, increasing their pain. The sentence seems about to ease the denial with an exception, but instead makes the deprivation more terrible.^[141]

Why, then, does Ibn ʿĀshūr describe the foul liquid as something given to drink in his commentary on Ṣād 38:57–58, but as something flowing over burns here? The distinction is between consuming a liquid and receiving a drink that relieves thirst. His explanation here denies the second; it does not require the first to be impossible.^[142]

Conclusion. Beneficial cooling best explains bard in this context. Sleep is a genuine reported alternative with a proposed linguistic basis, but neither the verb “taste” nor the existence of painful cold makes that alternative compulsory. Ḥamīm is intensely hot water. The flow and wound-discharge uses give the strongest explanation of ghassāq, while the interpretations emphasizing cold, stench and darkness have distinct reasons. However the exception is related to the preceding words, it offers no relieving drink or cooling comfort. The means by which a person ordinarily seeks ease become part of the warning itself.

And Allah knows best.

Q4. How is the recompense fitting, and why does the punishment increase?

Verses 26–28 explain why Hell’s punishment is ⁧جَزَاءً وِفَاقًا⁩ (jazāʾan wifāqan), “an appropriate recompense”: its recipients rejected the reckoning and emphatically denied Allah’s signs. Verse 30 then promises them increased punishment. How can punishment be both fitting and increasing?^[143]

The difficulty is easy to see: if a punishment already matches the offence, would adding to it make it excessive? Before answering, we need to understand what “fitting” means and which offences the passage describes. We can then distinguish continued suffering, punishment imposed later, and punishment for further offences. These explanations answer different parts of the question.

Summary of the explanations

Explanation	Evidence and reason	Response	Conclusion
Punishment corresponds to deeds.	Verses 27–28 describe rejection of reckoning and emphatic denial of the signs; ⁧وِفَاق⁩ (wifāq) expresses correspondence.	Differences in wrongdoing allow differences in severity.	Fitting recompense is just, without making every punishment identical.
The deniers neither expected nor hoped for reckoning.	Denial of resurrection removes expectation; the negative expression can also indicate lack of fear.	Hope and fear are related in context, but are not interchangeable in every construction.	Their conduct followed their rejection of accountability.
Increase means continuance or greater suffering over time.	Continuing punishment remains deserved; duration can increase its painful effect.	Continuance and a growing painful effect are distinct explanations, not two names for the same thing.	Neither requires injustice.
Delayed punishment remains deserved.	Not imposing it earlier does not by itself cancel the claim.	Delay is different from pardon.	A later addition need not revoke forgiveness.
Severity corresponds to persistent or multiple offences.	The explanations consider continued unbelief, growing wrongdoing and several offences.	Persistent unbelief, worsening wrongdoing and several offences give different reasons for greater severity.	Increased punishment can remain fitting recompense.
Reward includes generosity beyond deeds.	Good deeds receive multiplied reward in 6:160 and 2:261; 78:36 calls the reward “[a generous] gift.”	A promised favor is not a debt imposed on Allah by His creatures.	Justice in punishment and generosity in reward belong together.

1. What makes the recompense fitting?

“Fitting” describes both the amount and the kind of punishment. It matches the evil words and deeds without exceeding or falling short of what is deserved. It can also resemble those deeds: harm is answered with harm, and foul conduct with a foul recompense. Thus the verse speaks of justice, not merely of severity.^[144]

Severity itself must be understood in relation to the gravity of the offence. Associating partners with Allah is the greatest offence; the Fire is the greatest punishment. This is the correspondence Muqātil explains. It compares the seriousness of the offence with the seriousness of its consequence, rather than matching hours of wrongdoing with hours of pain. Q2 examines the separate question of a finite life and unending punishment.^[145]

Differences in disbelief and wrongdoing allow differences in severity. A further question then arises: can good deeds lessen the punishment? One position allows this, attributed by Ibn Rajab to al-Ṭabarī and others, with an athar from Saʿīd ibn Jubayr. The other position denies that those deeds benefit an unbeliever in the Hereafter, although they may bring benefits in this world.

The question here is whether punishment becomes less severe, not whether the person leaves the Fire. Ibn Rajab presents the reasons on both sides without choosing between them.^[146]

Correspondence in kind also helps explain why the passage mentions both deprivation and imposed pain. Denial of resurrection is answered by the loss of cooling and drink. Accusing the Messenger ﷺ and the Qurʾān of falsehood is answered by ⁧حَمِيم⁩ (ḥamīm), scalding water, and ⁧غَسَّاق⁩ (ghassāq), foul discharge. Ibn ʿĀshūr relates the two offences to these two aspects of punishment.^[147]

A reversal of enjoyed comfort gives a further example. People who took others’ property caused grief while enjoying cooled, clarified and perfumed drinks themselves. Their recompense burns and disgusts them. This illustration from al-Biqāʿī makes the correspondence concrete. To understand the offences specified, however, we must follow its own explanation in verses 27–28.^[148]

2. Why speak of “hoping” for a reckoning?

Verse 27 says ⁧إِنَّهُمْ كَانُوا۟ لَا يَرْجُونَ حِسَابًا⁩, “Indeed, they were not expecting an account.” The verb ⁧يَرْجُونَ⁩ (yarjūna) commonly expresses hope. Why use a word associated with something desirable when the reckoning is something these offenders should fear?

The starting point is their denial of resurrection. Someone who does not believe he will live again does not expect to answer for his deeds. Neither the hope of reward nor the fear of punishment influences his decisions. Al-Ṭabarī develops this connection through Ibn Zayd’s question: how could a person who denies being raised expect a reckoning? The same absence of belief explains why both hope and fear are absent: these people accept neither the promised reward nor the threatened punishment (al-Māturīdī).^[149]

Can the word itself mean “fear”? In a negative expression, it can. Al-Farrāʾ allows the negative use of ⁧أَرْجُو⁩ (arjū, “hope for”) to express lack of fear: “I did not hope for you” may mean “I did not fear you.” In the affirmative, however, ⁧رَجَوْتُ⁩ (rajawtu, “I hoped for”) cannot simply mean “I feared.” The explanation depends on the negative construction, “they were not …”; it does not make hope and fear interchangeable in every sentence.^[150]

The poetry cited for this usage describes someone taking honey despite the bees:

⁧إِذا لَسَعَتْه النَّحْلُ لَمْ يَرْجُ لَسْعَها، ... وخالَفَها فِي بَيْتِ نُوبٍ عَواسِلِ⁩

“When the bees stung him, he did not fear their stinging, and entered their hive of returning, honey-making bees.”^[151]

He enters for the honey despite the stings. His lack of fear explains the negative expression; he is not hoping to be stung. Lisān al-ʿArab attributes the poetry to Abū Dhuʾayb and also gives ⁧وحالَفَها⁩, “and stayed with them,” in place of ⁧وخالَفَها⁩, “and entered among them.” Hope and fear can also accompany one another: someone who hopes for something fears missing it. Ibn ʿArafah’s explanation, quoted by al-Samīn, connects the two emotions in this way.^[152]

The same negative usage appears in anonymous rajaz:

⁧لَا تَرْتَجِي حِينَ تُلاقِي الذَّائِدَا ... أَسَبْعَةً لاقَتْ مَعًا، أَو واحِدَا؟⁩

“When she meets the one who drives others away, she has no fear: has she met seven together, or one?”^[153]

Meeting seven rather than one would ordinarily give more reason for fear, yet the subject shows none. The cited rajaz does not identify who “she” is. What matters for the usage is the negative construction, as in the poetry about the bees: it expresses absence of fear.^[154]

Or does it mean “expect”? Hope involves expecting something to happen. The verb can therefore express expectation more generally, without changing it to “fear.” On this explanation, the deniers did not anticipate a reckoning at all (al-Rāzī, Jabal). This connects the word directly to their refusal to believe in resurrection.^[155]

Why retain the idea of hope? The Day that threatens the deniers also promises deliverance to believers. A believer can await it hopefully because Allah promises to save him from the transgressors’ fate. The deniers have no such hope because they reject that Day. Ibn ʿĀshūr explains the expression through this contrast: “they did not fear” describes the consequence of their unbelief, while “hope” still carries its usual association with something desirable.^[156]

This hope changes what a person seeks from life. Earthly existence is unstable and troubled; the life to come offers enduring blessedness. To treat this world as the whole of life is to abandon that hope. The Qurʾān connects ⁧يَرْجُواْ لِقَآءَ رَبِّهِۦ⁩, “hope for the meeting with his Lord,” with action:

﴿فَلۡيَعۡمَلۡ عَمَلٗا صَٰلِحٗا وَلَا يُشۡرِكۡ بِعِبَادَةِ رَبِّهِۦٓ أَحَدَۢا﴾

“let him do righteous work and not associate in the worship of his Lord anyone” (18:110).

Hope therefore directs belief into action, as ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Khaṭīb explains.^[157]

Two further explanations concern why a believer has reason to hope. First, faith gives hope of mercy despite sins. Al-Rāzī explains this by the reward of faith outweighing the punishment of sins other than unbelief. On this explanation, the absence of hope points to the unbelief of the people described here.^[158]

Second, Allah has promised reward, and His promise gives assurance. Deserved punishment is different: He may forgive through generosity. Hope therefore has a reason even while fear remains appropriate. Al-Rāzī presents this explanation alongside the others without choosing one final meaning for the verb. Taken together, the explanations clarify the connection needed here: rejecting the reckoning removes both the hope and the fear that belief in it would bring.^[159]

3. How does denial lead to this recompense?

The passage now adds ⁧وَكَذَّبُوا۟ بِـَٔايَـٰتِنَا كِذَّابًا⁩, “And denied Our verses with [emphatic] denial.” Their conduct follows from two connected refusals. They reject the future reckoning, so its reward does not encourage them and its punishment does not restrain them. They also reject the signs that would correct that belief. Thus the guidance brought by the messengers is refused along with the accountability it teaches (Muḥammad ʿAbduh, Mawdūdī).^[160]

The emphatic ⁧كِذَّابًا⁩ (kidhdhāban), “denial,” describes rejection, not an unanswered question. What is rejected includes the proofs of Allah’s oneness, messengership, resurrection and the revealed law. Some explanations concentrate on the Qurʾānic verses; others include the evidence brought by the prophets more broadly. Ibn ʿĀshūr distinguishes two features of this rejection: whenever reckoning was mentioned, they rejected it again, while rejection of the signs had become settled in their minds.^[161]

Such rejection also has outward consequences. Corrupted belief leads to accusations against the messengers and then to physical harm, even taking up arms against them, in Ibn ʿUthaymīn’s explanation. The punishment therefore concerns what these people believed, said and did.^[162]

Knowledge and action belong together. Ibrāhīm’s prayer brings both before Allah:

﴿رَبِّ هَبۡ لِي حُكۡمٗا وَأَلۡحِقۡنِي بِٱلصَّٰلِحِينَ ٨٣﴾

“My Lord, grant me authority and join me with the righteous” (26:83).

Al-Rāzī relates ⁧حُكْمًا⁩ (ḥukman) here to sound judgment. These deniers corrupt both judgment and action: they reject the signs by which they could know the truth, and reject the reckoning that would restrain their conduct. This explains his connection between their punishment and the corruption of both.^[163]

In describing these deniers, al-Rāzī says that they pursue evil and abandon good.^[164]

4. How does recompense relate to divine determination and generosity?

Divine determination and human responsibility

So far, “fitting” has related punishment to deeds. It can also relate the outcome to what Allah had already determined and judged: the recompense agrees with His determination (al-Qushayrī). This raises a further question about how divine determination and human responsibility belong together.^[165]

Al-Rāzī presents two questions about responsibility:

1. If Allah creates the act of disbelief, how does punishment correspond to that act?
2. Addressing the Muʿtazilah, he asks: if Allah already knows that a person will not believe, how can the person be required to bring about the contrary?

These questions concern how responsibility is understood in relation to divine creation and foreknowledge.

His immediate answer appeals to Allah’s will and judgment.^[166]

How differing offences affect the punishment

The identification of the people punished also affects how correspondence is explained. Al-Maẓharī understands the transgressors as people retaining ⁧تَوْحِيد⁩ (tawḥīd). Within that interpretation, the length and severity of punishment match the degree of deviation. The word ⁧وِفَاق⁩ (wifāq), “agreement” or “correspondence,” then adds this relationship between differing offences and punishments. He prefers that explanation to treating the word as reinforcement of “recompense,” because it adds a distinct meaning. His identification of the group is examined in Q2.^[167]

Why reward can exceed the deeds

Justice in punishment does not require reward to be an exact payment for the outward quantity of deeds. Verse 36 calls the righteous people’s reward ⁧عَطَآءً⁩, “[a generous] gift.” Sincerity and nearness to Allah matter: a little action at greater nearness can receive more than much action at a lower degree (al-Maẓharī).^[168]

The Qurʾānic contrast is explicit. For a good deed:

﴿فَلَهُۥ عَشۡرُ أَمۡثَالِهَاۖ﴾

The person “will have ten times the like thereof [to his credit]” (6:160).

For an evil deed:

﴿فَلَا يُجۡزَىٰٓ إِلَّا مِثۡلَهَا﴾

The person “will not be recompensed except the like thereof” (6:160).

The image of generosity in 2:261 is:

﴿كَمَثَلِ حَبَّةٍ أَنۢبَتَتۡ سَبۡعَ سَنَابِلَ فِي كُلِّ سُنۢبُلَةٖ مِّاْئَةُ حَبَّةٖۗ﴾

“like a seed [of grain] which grows seven spikes; in each spike is a hundred grains” (2:261).

The verse adds that Allah multiplies further for whom He wills.

A punishment corresponds to an offence; a gift can satisfy the recipient’s desires beyond what his deeds would merit. Al-Iskāfī uses this distinction to explain why the two descriptions are not interchangeable. Nor does calling reward a “recompense” make Allah’s generosity a debt imposed on Him: it is His promised favor (Ibn al-Zubayr).

The same distinction leaves room for forgiveness of sins other than associating partners with Allah. To say that punishment matches the offence describes its justice when imposed. It does not mean that every sin must be punished.^[169]

5. How can a fitting punishment increase?

We can now return to the apparent difficulty. A just punishment does not exceed what is deserved, yet verse 30 says ⁧فَلَن نَّزِيدَكُمْ إِلَّا عَذَابًا⁩, “never will We increase you except in torment.” Does “increase” describe continuing pain, a punishment imposed later, or a greater punishment corresponding to the offences? The explanations differ because they question different assumptions about the increase.

A. The punishment continues. On one explanation, “increase” means that the punishment remains and continues. Nothing beyond what is deserved has to be added. Al-Māturīdī compares this with his companions’ explanation of an increase in faith as continuance and firmness.^[170]

A related explanation concerns the painful effect of duration. As suffering continues, its burden grows. This is not the same as simply using “increase” to mean “continuance”: the longer suffering produces a greater effect (al-Rāzī, Ismāʿīl Ḥaqqī al-Burūsawī).^[171]

Another proposal starts from the possibility of becoming accustomed to pain. If familiarity reduced the suffering, an increase in intensity could maintain the original pain rather than exceed it. Al-Ālūsī mentions this with a reservation; he does not adopt it as a settled description of what happens. He also mentions explanations through increasing foulness and the gravity of unbelief, considered below, without choosing among them.^[172]

B. The added punishment was deserved, but had not yet been imposed. Why assume that an earlier punishment exhausted everything deserved? An addition may have been deserved all along. The objection is that postponing it was a pardon, so imposing it later would withdraw forgiveness. But postponement and pardon are different: not punishing at one time does not by itself cancel the punishment. A later addition can therefore remain just without revoking a pardon (al-Rāzī, al-Burūsawī).^[173]

C. The severity corresponds to the offences. A further group of explanations begins with the seriousness and persistence of unbelief. Two reasons are given in al-Tafsīr al-Wasīṭ:

• Persistent corruption: unbelief and sins increase in foulness, and Allah knows the persistence of the deniers’ corrupt disposition. The increasing punishment corresponds to that persistence.
• The gravity of unbelief: the greatest unbelief deserves the severest punishment. Punishment increasing day after day is one form of that severity.^[174]

Persistence explains why death is not treated as abandonment of disbelief. Death ended these deniers’ opportunity to act; had it not overtaken them, they would have continued in unbelief, as Mufti Muḥammad Shafī explains. Q2 develops the argument from continuing intention.^[175]

There is also an increase in offences themselves: unbelief, denial, and injury to the Messenger ﷺ and his Companions ⁧رضي الله عنهم⁩. A greater punishment can correspond to this greater wrongdoing (al-Burūsawī).^[176]

An increased total can also result from several offences, each with its own punishment. Hūd 11:20 says ⁧يُضَـٰعَفُ لَهُمُ ٱلْعَذَابُ⁩, “For them the punishment will be multiplied.” The preceding verses describe lying about Allah, obstructing His path, seeking to make it crooked, and denying the Hereafter. Each offence receives its corresponding punishment, so the total increases. Ibn al-Zubayr distinguishes this from multiplying the reward for a single good deed.^[177]

The explanations therefore do not all mean that a complete punishment is first imposed and then exceeded. Some explain the continuation or effect of suffering; others reject the assumption that everything deserved had already been imposed, or relate greater severity to the offences. Q6 examines the final rebuke itself.

Conclusion. Verses 27–28 identify why the recompense is deserved: denial of accountability joined to emphatic rejection of Allah’s signs. Verse 30 promises these deniers further punishment, not relief. Its increase does not mean that Allah exceeds what is deserved or withdraws a pardon already granted. The next Question considers verse 29: Allah has enumerated everything, so no deed or circumstance relevant to recompense is lost.

And Allah knows best.

Q5. Why does verse 29 mention a complete record before the final punishment?

Verse 26 describes the punishment as “An appropriate recompense.” Before the deniers are told to taste that punishment, verse 29 states:

﴿وَكُلَّ شَىْءٍ أَحْصَيْنَـٰهُ كِتَـٰبًا﴾ ٢٩﴾

“But all things We have enumerated in writing.” (78:29)

A judgment that fits the deed requires knowledge of what was done, why it was done and the circumstances in which it was done. The record explains how the recompense can be exact.^[178]

The discussion therefore begins with what Allah knows about each deed. It then considers what “everything” includes, why enumeration is joined to writing, and how the mention of the record prepares for the final rebuke. The two key expressions are أَحْصَيْنَاهُ (aḥṣaynāhu), “We have enumerated it,” and كِتَابًا (kitāban), “in writing.”

The argument at a glance

Explanation	Evidence and reason	Response	Conclusion
Exact recompense requires knowledge of each deed.	An act, its circumstances and its motive determine what is being judged.	People may forget their deeds; Allah has enumerated them.	The recompense is based on complete knowledge.
“Everything” means accountable deeds, or all creation including those deeds.	The context concerns recompense; the expression itself is comprehensive.	The interpretations describe deeds specifically or include them within all creation.	Acts and motives are included in the reckoning.
Writing affirms a real record, or explains perfect preservation by comparison.	Human writing preserves details; the literal interpretation affirms writing beyond the familiar human kind.	Human records can perish; Allah’s knowledge is permanent.	Both explanations affirm complete preservation. The literal interpretation affirms the record while entrusting its manner to Allah.
The written record is the Tablet or the angels’ books of deeds.	The Tablet makes what is written known to the angels; the angels also write by Allah’s command.	A spiritual interpretation speaks of deeds and beliefs inscribed in souls.	The explanations identify what “writing” refers to in different ways.
The record confirms the threat or explains the correspondence of punishment to deeds.	Verse 29 comes after the offences and before the command to taste punishment.	The parenthetical and connected explanations describe its relation to the surrounding sentences differently.	The rebuke follows a judgment in which no deed is omitted.

1. Fitting recompense requires knowledge of each deed

Knowing that an act is evil in general is different from knowing what a person did. To give fitting recompense, the act, its circumstances and what makes it deserving of reward or punishment must all be known. Verse 29 affirms the knowledge required by جَزَاءً وِفَاقًا (jazāʾan wifāqan), “An appropriate recompense,” in verse 26 (al-Rāzī).^[179]

This connection makes Allah’s knowledge of individual deeds essential to the explanation. Al-Rāzī calls denial of His knowledge of particulars definite unbelief.^[180]

A person may forget a deed, but it remains known to Allah. The Qurʾān states:

﴿أَحۡصَىٰهُ ٱللَّهُ وَنَسُوهُۚ﴾

“Allah had enumerated it, while they forgot it” (58:6).

The deed’s number and extent remain known when the person who performed it has lost count (al-Rāzī, al-Ṭabarī).^[181]

2. What is included: deeds, motives and intentions

The immediate subject is recompense. In that context, “everything” means every deed for which a person receives reward or punishment. Rejecting the reckoning and denying Allah’s signs are the two offences just mentioned; the record includes the rest of their deeds too (Abū Ḥayyān).^[182]

The expression also allows a more comprehensive explanation. “Everything” includes all that Allah creates and governs, with the servants’ words and deeds, great and small, included within it (Ibn ʿUthaymīn). The contextual interpretation concentrates on deeds; the comprehensive interpretation includes those deeds within all creation. Either way, the deeds being judged are fully known.^[183]

Full knowledge of a deed includes the motive behind it. Actions that look alike can have different purposes, and those purposes matter to recompense. The record includes motives as well as outward acts (Mawdūdī).^[184]

That distinction also explains why two people who leave an evil intention unfulfilled may be judged differently. Ibn ʿUthaymīn contrasts the person prevented by inability from carrying it out with the person who abandons it for Allah’s sake. The evil intention is written against the person prevented by inability; abandoning it for Allah is written in the other person’s favour. The reason for leaving the act undone is part of what is known and judged.^[185]

3. Why join enumeration to writing?

The verse affirms that every deed is known. Why add writing? Counting establishes how many things there are; writing preserves the details. Both are ways of retaining something precisely, which explains why “We have enumerated it” can convey “We have recorded it” (al-Ṭabarī). Al-Māturīdī also gives a different relationship between the two: Allah enumerates everything established in the book, leaving nothing out.^[186]

The grammar develops these possibilities. كِتَابًا (kitāban) can emphasize the act of precise enumeration or recording. It can also mean “written,” describing the things enumerated as being in a written state. The first explanation concerns the act; the second concerns what has been recorded. The detailed constructions are explained under Iʿrāb.^[187]

4. Does writing describe a real record or explain perfect preservation?

The mention of writing raises a further question. Is it a familiar comparison that helps us understand the certainty of Allah’s knowledge, or does it affirm an actual written record? In the comparison, writing represents the precision of something securely preserved (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[188]

To explain why writing suggests preservation, al-Rāzī quotes an instruction which he attributes to the Prophet ﷺ:

⁧قَيِّدُوا الْعِلْمَ بِالْكِتَابَةِ⁩

“Bind knowledge by writing.”^[189]

Writing helps human beings retain knowledge, but an ordinary written object can perish. Allah’s knowledge is permanent. In al-Rāzī’s explanation, the familiar act of writing helps the hearer understand confirmation and permanence: the knowledge of each deed remains secure.^[190]

The literal interpretation affirms an actual record. Divine knowledge is already complete; the writing fulfils a wisdom beyond human understanding. Al-Ālūsī prefers this interpretation and identifies it as the well-known position of Ahl al-Sunnah. Al-Tafsīr al-Wasīṭ also prefers actual writing.^[191]

Belief in that record leaves its manner to Allah. The writing is above what human beings know as writing and firmer in its precision. Muḥammad ʿAbduh therefore affirms its reality while entrusting knowledge of how it occurs to Allah.^[192]

5. Which record is meant?

On the literal interpretation, the next question is which written record the verse describes. Two explanations are given:

• The Preserved Tablet. Everything is written there, so that the angels may know it (al-Qurṭubī).
• The angels’ records of deeds. The angels appointed over human beings write by Allah’s command. They are described as وَإِنَّ عَلَيۡكُمۡ لَحَٰفِظِينَ “And indeed, [appointed] over you are keepers,” and كِرَامٗا كَٰتِبِينَ “Noble and recording;” (82:10–11).

The Tablet explanation concerns what is written for the angels to know; the explanation through their records concerns what they are commanded to write. Al-Rāzī presents both as possible meanings here.^[193]

A spiritual interpretation understands the writing as the forms of deeds and dispositions of belief inscribed in the pages of human souls and celestial souls (al-Qāshānī, quoted by al-Burūsawī).^[194]

6. How does the record prepare for the final rebuke?

The record now explains the movement of the passage. Verses 27–28 describe the deniers’ rejection of reckoning and Allah’s signs. Verse 29 adds that all their other deeds are preserved too. Verse 30 then addresses them: فَذُوقُوا۟, “So taste [the penalty]”. On the parenthetical interpretation, verse 29 is an assurance placed between the stated offences and their consequence (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[195]

Within the parenthetical interpretation, the emphasis can be explained in two ways. Preserving their denial for recompense confirms both the stated offence and its deserved punishment (al-Burūsawī). Al-Ālūsī instead prefers to relate the assurance to the threat: the punishment already announced will be imposed with full knowledge of what they did.^[196]

A more specific explanation connects the record to “An appropriate recompense” in verse 26. The following sentences explain its two parts:

• Why a جَزَاء (jazāʾ), a recompense? Verses 27–28 describe the denial for which they are punished.
• Why وِفَاق (wifāq), correspondence? Verse 29 establishes that the record omits nothing, so the recompense corresponds to their deeds.

The offences explain why there is punishment; the complete record explains how that punishment fits the offences. Al-Maẓharī prefers this connection.^[197]

Another explanation joins verses 27–29 as reasons for recompense: the deniers committed the offences, and Allah knows precisely what they did. The suggestion is quoted by al-Ālūsī from an unnamed scholar. He finds this way of joining the sentences strained.^[198]

Conclusion. Verse 29 answers the question raised by fitting recompense: how can every deed receive what it deserves? Allah knows the deed, its circumstances and its motive, and the record omits nothing. The final command to taste punishment follows that assurance of complete knowledge.

And Allah knows best.

Q6. Who addresses the deniers in verse 30, and why does Allah end with increased punishment?

After describing Hell, the passage explains why its inhabitants deserve their punishment: they denied the reckoning and rejected Allah’s signs. Verse 30 then addresses those deniers directly:

﴿⁧فَذُوقُوا۟ فَلَن نَّزِيدَكُمْ إِلَّا عَذَابًا⁩ ٣٠﴾

“So taste [the penalty], and never will We increase you except in torment.” (78:30)

Allah’s rebuke is spoken when the deniers receive their punishment. The explanation of their deeds has led to the command to experience the consequence: “So taste.” The questions below concern how this address is understood, why it agrees with other verses about divine speech, and what makes its closing threat so severe.^[199]

The explanation at a glance

Explanation	Evidence and reason	Response	Conclusion
Allah addresses the deniers at recompense.	“Taste” concerns their punishment; “We will increase you” identifies the one declaring it.	Speech of rebuke differs from the speech of honor denied in 3:77.	The address condemns them; it gives them no comfort.
The description changes from “they” to “you.”	Either a future speech is introduced, or the people described are directly confronted.	The future-speech explanation differs from ⁧الالتفات⁩ (iltifāt), a change of address.	Both explain how the rebuke follows the description of their deeds.
The punishment is pronounced again after its reasons.	The passage moves from punishment to fitting recompense, then to denial and the recording of deeds.	The return to punishment follows the explanation of why it is deserved.	The final command declares the consequence of those deeds.
The only promised increase is punishment.	“We will not increase you” is completed by “except punishment.”	⁧لَنْ⁩ (lan, “will not”) does not make every future negation unending.	The full statement and its context explain the continuing threat.
The severity is punishment without relief.	The saying about the most severe verse explains it through ever-increasing torment.	The Companion and Prophetic attributions have different asanid and assessments.	The verse’s severity and the reliability of the sayings about it are separate questions.

1. From describing the deniers to addressing them

The command “taste” places the deniers before the punishment they had refused to expect. The sentence can be understood as “then it will be said to them: taste.” It introduces the rebuke they will hear at recompense (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[200]

This explains the change from “they” in the preceding verses to “you” in verse 30: the Qurʾān now tells us what will be said to the condemned. A different explanation understands the change as ⁧الالتفات⁩ (iltifāt), a direct address to people who had just been spoken about. The distinction is between introducing a future speech and changing the manner of address within the present speech. Ibn ʿĀshūr prefers the future-speech explanation; the Balāghah discussion develops the grammatical difference.^[201]

Whichever explanation is followed, “so” connects the command to what has preceded it: because the deniers acted as described, they are told to taste their punishment. The understood condition and introduction to the speech are explained in Iʿrāb.^[202]

2. How can this be Allah’s address if He will not speak to them?

Identifying the speaker raises a question about another passage. Of those who exchange Allah’s covenant and their oaths for a small price, the Qurʾān says:

﴿وَلَا يُكَلِّمُهُمُ ٱللَّهُ وَلَا يَنظُرُ إِلَيۡهِمۡ يَوۡمَ ٱلۡقِيَٰمَةِ﴾

“and Allah will not speak to them or look at them on the Day of Resurrection” (3:77)

How, then, can Allah address the condemned with “We will increase you”? One explanation introduces verse 30 with “it is said to them,” leaving the rebuke to another speaker. Al-Rāzī attributes this answer to most commentators, but raises a difficulty: someone other than Allah would then be saying “We” when declaring the increase in punishment. The first-person declaration points to Allah as the speaker.^[203]

The answer is to distinguish an address that honors and benefits its recipients from one that condemns them. Being spoken to can be a mark of favor; being rebuked is not. Verse 3:77 denies the condemned the speech of honor and benefit. Verse 78:30 confronts them with their punishment and gives them no comfort. This is the explanation al-Rāzī prefers.^[204]

The future-speech explanation and this answer can therefore be understood together. “Then it will be said” places the rebuke at recompense, while the first-person “We” identifies Allah as the one declaring it.

The alternative explanation as ⁧الالتفات⁩ (iltifāt) draws attention to the humiliation of being confronted. People previously described as “they” are addressed as “you,” as though present before the hearer. The rebuke expresses anger and reproach, rather than favor (al-Rāzī on anger; al-Ālūsī on humiliation and reproach). Al-Ālūsī also recognizes the separate explanation in which a future speech is introduced.^[205]

Another possibility is that angels convey the rebuke, or that the condemned people’s condition expresses it: their punishment itself shows what denial has brought upon them. In this explanation, “so” can connect the punishment either to their denial or to the recording of their deeds for recompense (al-Biqāʿī).^[206]

3. Why return to punishment after explaining what they have done?

The rebuke is more than a repetition of the opening warning. By the time it is pronounced, its reasons have been set out:

1. The punishment: verses 21–25 describe Hell and its suffering.
2. Its justice: verse 26 calls that punishment fitting recompense.
3. The deeds: verses 27–29 explain the denial and the complete recording of what was done.
4. The consequence: verse 30 tells the deniers to experience the punishment.

The sequence resembles a judgment first stated, then supported by its reasons, and finally pronounced again. When the passage returns to punishment, the reader has been shown why the deniers deserve it (al-Rāzī).^[207]

The final sentence then makes the threat more severe through the way it unfolds. At ⁧فَلَنْ نَزِيدَكُمْ⁩ (fa-lan nazīdakum), “We will not increase you,” the listener may initially expect that the suffering will grow no further. But ⁧إِلَّا عَذَابًا⁩ (illā ʿadhāban), “except punishment,” makes punishment the very thing that will increase. The prospect of no additional torment gives way to the threat of more. This is grief followed by further grief (Ibn ʿĀshūr).^[208]

That increase may be another kind of punishment or renewed punishment as time continues (Ibn ʿĀshūr). The question of how an increase can remain deserved is developed in Q4. Here, the point is what the condemned are told to expect: further punishment, not relief.^[209]

4. Does ⁧لَنْ⁩ (lan, “will not”) make every negation unending?

The threat is emphatic, but emphasis and duration answer different questions. An emphatic refusal tells us how firmly something is denied; duration tells us how long the denial applies. ⁧لَنْ⁩ (lan) negates a future action. In this verse, al-Rāzī emphasizes the firmness of that negation, while Ibn ʿĀshūr understands it as continuing: no increase other than punishment is to come.^[210]

A firm negation need not last forever.^[211] Two Qurʾānic examples make the distinction concrete:

A stated day. Maryam is instructed to say:

﴿فَلَنۡ أُكَلِّمَ ٱلۡيَوۡمَ إِنسِيّٗا﴾

“so I will not speak today to [any] man.” (19:26)

The word ⁧ٱلْيَوْم⁩ (al-yawm), “today,” tells us how long this refusal applies. ⁧لَنْ⁩ does not make it a promise never to speak again.

A condition. In the story of Yūsuf, his eldest brother says:

﴿فَلَنۡ أَبۡرَحَ ٱلۡأَرۡضَ حَتَّىٰ يَأۡذَنَ لِيٓ أَبِيٓ أَوۡ يَحۡكُمَ ٱللَّهُ لِيۖ﴾

“So I will never leave [this] land until my father permits me or Allah decides for me” (12:80)

Here, ⁧حَتَّىٰ⁩ (ḥattā), “until,” introduces the condition under which the refusal to leave ends. If ⁧لَنْ⁩ itself made the refusal unending, that condition would have no effect. Ibn Hishām and Abū Ḥayyān also ask why ⁧أَبَدًا⁩ (abadan), “ever,” would be added to ⁧لَنْ⁩ if the particle already conveyed unending duration. These are the objections collected by ʿAḍīmah.^[212]

A separate grammatical question is whether the particle itself adds emphasis to future negation. One explanation includes emphasis in the meaning of ⁧لَنْ⁩ itself.^[213] The objection asks what evidence proves that this extra emphasis belongs to the particle itself.^[214] The Iʿrāb discussion compares these grammatical explanations. For verse 30, the continuing threat is understood from the complete statement and its context.

There is also a different interpretation of whom the threat addresses. If the people concerned retain ⁧التَّوْحِيد⁩ (tawḥīd), the increase can be understood as lasting “while you remain in the Fire” (al-Maẓharī). That conclusion follows from identifying the group in this way, as examined in Q2. It is a different interpretation of the people addressed, not a different meaning of ⁧لَنْ⁩.^[215]

5. Why was verse 30 described as especially severe?

The threat is severe because suffering is followed by more suffering rather than relief. This is the reason given in the saying al-Ṭabarī relates from ʿAbd Allāh ibn ʿAmr ⁧رضي الله عنهما⁩:^[216]

⁧لَمْ تَنْزِلْ عَلَى أَهْلِ النَّارِ آيَةٌ أَشَدُّ مِنْ هَذِهِ⁩

“No verse more severe than this was revealed concerning the people of the Fire.”

The saying explains its own judgment:

⁧فَهُمْ فِي مَزِيدٍ مِنَ الْعَذَابِ أَبَدًا⁩

“They are therefore in an increase of punishment forever.”^[217]

This is related as a Companion’s statement (mawqūf), with an uncertainty about one narrator in its isnād.^[218]

A related narration connects the same verse to the deeds that brought about the punishment. It is attributed to the Prophet ﷺ through Abū Barzah al-Aslamī ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩, but its isnād is weak. After reciting verse 30, he is reported to have said:

⁧هَلَكَ الْقَوْمُ بِمَعَاصِيهِمُ اللَّهَ عَزَّ وَجَلَّ⁩

“The people have perished through their disobedience to Allah, Mighty and Majestic.”^[219]

The narrations also differ over who made the statement: some attribute the answer about the most severe verse to Abū Barzah himself.^[220] Ibn ʿĀshūr considers the several versions mutually supportive, although he judges Jisr, in the Abū Barzah isnād, very weak.^[221]

The explanation of renewed suffering is also supported by Qurʾānic descriptions. Al-Qurṭubī connects verse 30 with the renewal of the condemned people’s skins and of the blazing Fire:

﴿كُلَّمَا نَضِجَتۡ جُلُودُهُم بَدَّلۡنَٰهُمۡ جُلُودًا غَيۡرَهَا لِيَذُوقُواْ ٱلۡعَذَابَۗ﴾

“Every time their skins are roasted through We will replace them with other skins so they may taste the punishment.” (4:56)

﴿كُلَّمَا خَبَتۡ زِدۡنَٰهُمۡ سَعِيرٗا﴾

“every time it subsides We increase them in blazing fire.” (17:97)

Both descriptions show punishment being renewed. Al-Rāzī also quotes a saying attributed to the Prophet ﷺ about pleas for relief, without giving an isnād or grade:

⁧كُلَّمَا اسْتَغَاثُوا مِنْ نَوْعٍ مِنَ الْعَذَابِ أُغِيثُوا بِأَشَدَّ مِنْهُ⁩

“Whenever they seek relief from one kind of punishment, they are answered with something more severe.”^[222]

The saying describes a plea for ease answered by something more severe. The condemned seek relief, but the threat gives them reason to expect further torment.

The passage has moved from a warning about Hell to the rebuke its inhabitants will hear. Their deeds have been described and the justice of their recompense explained. They are now told to experience that recompense, with further torment as the only increase promised to them.

And Allah knows best.

How the Commentators Read These Verses

Al-Biqāʿī (d. 885 AH): what the absence of hope reveals

Hope does not require certainty. A person may look forward to something good even when its possibility is slight. This makes the absence of hope in verse 27 especially telling: the people described do not even look towards a reckoning with hope, however slight. On this explanation, denying their hope conveys their rejection more forcefully than simply saying that they deny.

The point concerns why the verse uses ⁧يَرْجُونَ⁩ (yarjūna, “they hope or expect”). Verse 28 then states their rejection openly. What the absence of hope had already indicated is followed by the direct declaration that they denied Allah’s signs. Al-Biqāʿī thus explains the sequence from an attitude revealing rejection to its explicit declaration.^[1]

Badawī (d. 1384 AH): confinement is not a measure of Hell’s capacity

Being confined describes what a person can do, not simply how large the place around him is. Badawī makes this distinction when he contrasts the freedom of Paradise’s inhabitants with the constraint experienced in Hell. He draws together the narrow place into which its inhabitants are cast in 25:13 and the chains and shackles described in 40:71–72. The images concern people denied freedom of movement. They do not require the conclusion that Hell itself has little room.^[2]

He states the distinction directly:

⁧وليس ذلك لضيق في النار، ولكن للتضييق على ساكنها⁩

“That is not because the Fire is cramped, but because its inhabitant is subjected to constraint.”

Hell’s capacity is addressed in 50:30: Hell is asked whether it is full and responds by asking whether there is more. This is why the contrast with Paradise must not be reduced to a comparison of two physical sizes. One description emphasizes the inhabitants’ freedom; the other emphasizes the restrictions imposed upon them. The terror lies in their inability to move and escape freely, not in an imagined measurement of the realm.^[3]

Iʿrāb: Grammatical Analysis

Verses 21–25

The sentence first identifies Hell as a lookout and an abode, then describes the people remaining there without relief. The word and clause tables follow Dār al-Ṣaḥābah’s Iʿrāb al-Qurʾān al-Karīm. The alternatives below explain where another grammatical connection changes the emphasis or the English sense. The English phrases explain the grammar; the complete translation appears at the opening.

Words in verses 21–23. The feminine form of kānat refers back to Jahannam. Its tāʾ marks that agreement; the verb’s understood ism, the noun whose description it introduces, is “it,” referring to Hell.^[1]

The baseline makes maʾāban a second predicate, lābithīna a circumstance of the people, and aḥqāban the time of their remaining. These are three different jobs: describing the abode, describing its inhabitants, and expressing duration.^[2]

Words in verses 24–25. The first lā negates tasting; the repeated lā also negates the second object. The table follows the baseline’s first explanation of the exception; its alternative is explained below.^[3]

The clauses and their positions. A clause can complete another sentence, describe people within it, or begin a fresh statement. In the baseline, the declaration about Hell is fresh; the kānat clause completes it; and the denial of relief describes the people’s state while remaining there.^[4]

Lābithīna fīhā aḥqāban, “remaining in it for ages,” is a participial circumstance rather than a separate finite clause. Illā ḥamīman wa-ghassāqan, “except scalding water and foul discharge,” is an exception phrase within the tasting statement, not another independent sentence.

Where the grammar changes the meaning

The alternatives below distinguish changes in meaning from changes in grammatical description. The main questions are whom the phrases describe, what the ages refer to, and how the exception denies relief.

1. A lookout for whom, and an abode for whom? (78:21–22)

The phrase لِلطَّاغِينَ (li-l-ṭāghīna), “for the transgressors,” comes between “a lookout” and “an abode.” The question is which of those two descriptions it completes.

Attached to “a lookout”: Hell is a lookout prepared for the transgressors. This is the first explanation in Dār al-Ṣaḥābah’s Iʿrāb.

Describing “an abode”: Hell is an abode intended for the transgressors. The descriptive phrase has been placed before “abode,” so it functions as a حال (ḥāl), a description of its state. Dār al-Ṣaḥābah allows this alternative. The people and the place remain the same; what changes is whether “for the transgressors” directly qualifies the lookout or the abode.^[5]

In English: “a lookout for the transgressors, an abode” makes the first connection visible; “a lookout, an abode for the transgressors” makes the other visible.

The Arabic also permits an understood “prepared for them” to describe the lookout, or direct attachment to مَآبًا (maʾāban), “an abode.” These are the additional connections explained by al-Samīn al-Ḥalabī and al-ʿUkbarī. They explain the two English arrangements above.^[6]

A related question is whether “an abode” adds a description or explains “a lookout.” As a second خبر (khabar), predicate, it means that Hell is both lookout and abode. As a بدل (badal), substitute, it identifies the lookout as their abode: “a lookout, namely an abode.” Al-Muntajab al-Hamadhānī allows both.

The distinction is between adding and identifying. Neither construction says that the inhabitants had lived in Hell before.^[7]

2. “Remaining”: their future state in the abode (78:23)

The masculine plural لَابِثِينَ (lābithīna), “remaining,” describes the people, not the feminine noun جَهَنَّم (Jahannam). But they have not yet arrived there. How can remaining describe their state?

A حال مقدرة (ḥāl muqaddara) is an anticipated circumstance: a state that will occur. The people are destined to remain in the abode prepared for them. This is the explanation of al-ʿUkbarī and al-Muntajab.

In English: “remaining in it” can stay unchanged. “Destined to remain in it” spells out the future relationship that the Arabic construction permits.^[8]

3. “For ages”: the duration of the stay or of the deprivation? (78:23–24)

Here the connection makes a substantive difference. أَحْقَابًا (aḥqāban), “for ages,” can answer either How long do they remain? or How long do they go without relief?

Connected to “remaining”: it is a ظرف زمان (ẓarf zamān), an expression of time, giving the duration of their remaining. This is the Dār al-Ṣaḥābah baseline: “remaining in it for ages.”

Connected to “they do not taste”: the ages describe their deprivation: “for ages they taste no cooling relief or drink.” Al-ʿUkbarī includes this alternative. Its grammatical difficulty is the word order: the time expression comes before the negative لَا (lā), although it belongs to the verb after it. Al-Samīn allows the construction only under the grammatical view that permits this ordering.^[9]

The translation difference: “remaining for ages, without tasting…” gives the duration of residence; “remaining there, and for ages tasting no…” gives the duration of deprivation. Al-Ibyārī illustrates the latter connection.

That difference matters to the argument in Q2: a period of one kind of punishment is not necessarily the duration of the whole stay. Whether a change of punishment entails release is a further question.^[10]

A third proposal changes the meaning of the word itself: if أَحْقَابًا (aḥqāban) means “deprived,” it is a حال (ḥāl), describing the people, rather than an expression of time. The sense becomes “remaining there deprived,” followed by an explanation of what they lack.

This is al-Zamakhsharī’s less common proposal. Abū Ḥayyān prefers the familiar temporal meaning, “for ages.”^[11]

4. “They do not taste”: the people’s state, the character of the ages, or a new statement? (78:24)

The words لَا يَذُوقُونَ (lā yadhūqūna), “they do not taste,” can be connected to the preceding sentence in three main ways.

A description of the people: they remain while tasting no relief. In the baseline this is a حال متداخلة (ḥāl mutadākhila), a circumstance within a circumstance: “remaining” describes the transgressors, and “not tasting” describes them as they remain.

It can also be a second circumstance attached directly to the transgressors, alongside “remaining.” Al-Muntajab permits that construction where two circumstances of one subject are allowed. The English need not change: both constructions describe the same people remaining without relief.^[12]

A description of the ages: “ages in which they taste no relief.” The clause is now a نعت (naʿt), a description of أَحْقَابًا (aḥqāban).

On this construction فِيهَا (fīhā) means “in them,” referring to the ages, rather than “in it,” referring to Hell. A nonhuman plural can have a feminine singular pronoun. The verb’s plural subject still refers to the people: they do the tasting, in those ages. That returning pronoun is what connects the clause to the ages (Makkī, as explained by al-Samīn).^[13]

Why the pronoun matters: the people and the ages are not the same subject. Makkī explains that a finite verb, as used here, contains its subject and can describe the ages through the pronoun in فِيهَا (fīhā).

With an active participle instead of the finite verb, the construction he discusses would require an overt pronoun to identify the people doing the tasting. This explains why the existing sentence works; it does not require an additional pronoun in the English translation.^[14]

A new statement: “They taste in it no cooling relief or drink.” This is مستأنفة (mustaʾnafa), a clause beginning afresh, which Abū Ḥayyān prefers to a circumstantial clause. English can show the difference with a new sentence instead of “while.”

One further connection depends on the less common meaning “deprived” for أَحْقَابًا (aḥqāban). In that case “they do not taste” explains what they are deprived of. Al-Samīn distinguishes these possibilities. The deprivation is affirmed in each; what changes is how it is related to the people, the ages or the preceding description.^[15]

5. “In it”: locating the tasting or describing the people? (78:24)

When فِيهَا (fīhā) refers to Hell, two connections express substantially the same situation:

“They taste in it…” attaches the phrase to the verb, as in the baseline. It tells us where the tasting occurs.

“While there, they taste…” attaches the phrase to an understood حال (ḥāl) describing the people, as in Ṣāfī’s first explanation. His note also permits direct attachment to the verb.

Ordinary English need not distinguish these two constructions. This is different from the preceding alternative in which the pronoun refers to the ages: here both explanations locate the people and their deprivation in Hell.^[16]

6. “Except”: a terrible drink, or something in place of relief? (78:24–25)

The question is what “drink” includes. If it includes any liquid that can be swallowed, scalding water is a drink, though it brings pain. The sense is: “no drink except scalding water.”

This is a connected exception, استثناء متصل (istithnāʾ muttaṣil): the exception belongs to the category just mentioned. On the بدل (badal) construction, حَمِيمًا (ḥamīman) substitutes for شَرَابًا (sharāban) and shares its accusative ending. The negative sentence allows that substitution. Darwīsh calls it the easier construction; Abū Ḥayyān prefers relating the exception specifically to drink.^[17]

If “drink” means a drink that relieves thirst, scalding water is outside that category. The sense becomes: “no cooling relief or relieving drink, but instead scalding water and غَسَّاق (ghassāq).”

This is a disconnected exception, استثناء منقطع (istithnāʾ munqaṭiʿ). Al-Samīn explains that al-Zamakhsharī’s qualification of “drink” is the reason for it: the harmful liquid can be swallowed, but does not provide the relief intended here. Q3 develops the lexical explanations and the pairing of denied comforts.^[18]

In translation: “except” can accommodate either explanation; “but instead” makes the disconnected exception explicit. The practical difference is whether the verse identifies the only drink available or contrasts the relief denied to them with what they receive in its place.

Dār al-Ṣaḥābah gives the disconnected exception first, then allows substitution for “drink,” adding “perhaps this is preferable.” Ṣāfī gives substitution first and also permits a disconnected exception.^[19]

There is one further connection: scalding heat in place of cooling. When بَرْد (bard) means cooling, Makkī makes “scalding water” a substitute for “cooling,” not for “drink.” If بَرْد (bard) means sleep, he identifies a disconnected exception.

Thus his explanation depends on whether بَرْد (bard) means cooling or sleep: the contrast is with scalding heat, whereas the connected-to-drink explanation concerns the kind of liquid provided.^[20]

7. “Indeed” or “because”: a declaration or a reason? (78:21)

The form إِنَّ (inna) begins a fresh declaration: “Indeed, Hell…” This is the form followed in the tables.

The reported form أَنَّ (anna) instead connects the declaration to the preceding description of the Hour, understood as taking place for recompense. The explanatory English therefore needs a causal connection: “because Hell has been a lookout.” Al-Muntajab and al-Samīn explain this through al-Zamakhsharī’s interpretation.

The vowel changes the sentence’s relationship to what precedes it, not the description of Hell itself. The reported readers and the status of the form are identified in Qirāʾāt.^[21]

Verses 26–30

The grammar now explains why the punishment is deserved, then introduces the complete record and the final command. The tables continue the Dār al-Ṣaḥābah analysis. As above, the English phrases explain the constructions; they do not replace the full translation in the opening section.

Words in verses 26–28. Jazāʾan names the recompense, wifāqan describes its correspondence, and the following sentence gives the reason. In 27, the plural wāw belongs to kāna as its ism, whereas the wāw in yarjūna is the subject of that verb. Those are distinct positions even though both refer to the same people.^[22]

Words in verses 29–30. The expression “everything” stands before the verb, while the verb already contains a pronoun referring to it. The baseline explains its naṣb through an understood verb. In 30, the two objects of “increase” answer different questions: who receives the increase, and what is increased.^[23]

The clauses and their positions. The reason in 27 contains two levels of predicate: “they were…” completes inna, while “not expecting…” completes kāna. The complete account in 29 is followed by the command and its explanation.^[24]

Where the grammar changes the meaning in 26–30

The discussion follows the passage from fitting recompense to denial, the complete record and the final rebuke. Each comparison explains what changes in English and what remains the same.

8. “A recompense”: what the punishment is, or why it is given? (78:26)

On the baseline construction, جَزَاءً (jazāʾan) tells us what the punishment is: recompense. It is a مفعول مطلق (mafʿūl muṭlaq), an action noun, with a verb understood: “they were recompensed with a recompense.”

The preceding description, “they do not taste,” can itself provide the meaning of that verb: undergoing this deprivation is their recompense. Al-Samīn permits both explanations. One understands an omitted verb; the other derives its meaning from the punishment already described. “A fitting recompense” works in English for both.^[25]

On the alternative construction, جَزَاءً (jazāʾan) tells us why the punishment is given: “for recompense.” It is a مفعول لأجله (mafʿūl li-ajlihi), expressing purpose or reason. Dār al-Ṣaḥābah permits this, as does Ṣāfī in his note.

The difference is therefore naming the act of recompense versus giving the purpose of the punishment. “As recompense” can express the latter, although a flowing English translation may sound similar on both explanations.^[26]

9. “Fitting”: correspondence as a description or a second action? (78:26)

The baseline makes وِفَاقًا (wifāqan), “correspondence,” describe جَزَاءً (jazāʾan), “recompense.” The sense is a recompense that corresponds to the deeds.

A noun expressing an action or quality, a مصدر (maṣdar), can be used in this descriptive way. Al-Rāzī distinguishes two explanations: it can have the sense of مُوَافِق (muwāfiq), “corresponding,” or it can present the recompense as correspondence itself. Calling a person “generosity” similarly presents that quality as fully realized in him. The more emphatic explanation presents the recompense as fully corresponding to what is deserved.^[27]

An understood “possessing” gives another way to express the description: ذَا وِفَاقٍ (dhā wifāqin), “possessing correspondence.” Al-Muntajab and al-Samīn permit this.

No different translation is required: “a fitting recompense” can convey each of these descriptions. The alternatives explain how the noun describes the recompense, not a different punishment or a different standard of justice.^[28]

The remaining alternative gives correspondence its own action: they were recompensed, and the recompense corresponded to their deeds. Al-Rāzī and al-Muntajab permit this construction.

“A recompense that corresponded” makes that second action explicit. “A corresponding recompense,” by contrast, expresses the baseline’s description of the recompense. Both affirm its correspondence to the deeds.^[29]

10. Not expecting a reckoning “while” denying, or “and” denying? (78:27–28)

The joining وَ (wa) before كَذَّبُوا (kadhdhabū), “they denied,” can describe an accompanying state or add a further assertion.

“While denying Our signs”: the واو الحال (wāw al-ḥāl) describes their state while they did not expect a reckoning. This is Dār al-Ṣaḥābah’s first explanation.

“And they denied Our signs”: العطف (al-ʿaṭf), coordination, adds denial as another assertion about them. Dār al-Ṣaḥābah also permits this; Ṣāfī puts it first. For the circumstantial alternative, Ṣāfī understands قَدْ (qad) before the past-tense verb, presenting denial as an established accompanying fact.^[30]

Within the “and” construction, the clauses can be joined at different levels. Ṣāfī joins “they denied” to the whole “they were…” clause, so both complete إِنَّ (inna). Ibn ʿĀshūr joins it to “they did not expect,” within the description introduced by كَانُوا (kānū).

The English need not change between these two: “they did not expect a reckoning, and they denied…” expresses both. The more important translation choice is between adding an assertion with “and” and showing an accompanying state with “while.”^[31]

Does the past tense imply that they stopped denying? No. In Ibn ʿĀshūr’s explanation, revelation addresses the deniers in this world. كَانُوا (kānū) presents their failure to expect a reckoning as established; the present-tense يَرْجُونَ (yarjūna) expresses its recurrence. The past-tense كَذَّبُوا (kadhdhabū) presents their settled denial.

For that reason, “used to” could mislead an English reader into thinking they no longer deny. The past tense here does not by itself establish such a change.^[32]

11. Emphatic denial, mutual accusation, or a description of liars? (78:28)

The form كِذَّابًا (kidhdhāban), with a doubled dhāl, reinforces the act: “they denied emphatically.” It is a مفعول مطلق مؤكد (mafʿūl muṭlaq muʾakkid), an action noun emphasizing “they denied.”

This is not the same grammatical claim as calling the people “liars.” The other reported forms below explain why that distinction matters. Ṣarf explains their formation and linguistic evidence.^[33]

The lighter form as an action noun: كِذَابًا (kidhāban), without the doubled dhāl, can mean “lying.” The expressed verb “they denied” can govern it because denying the truth entails lying.

Alternatively, an understood “they lied” governs the noun and explains the result of their denial. Both constructions concern the act: “they denied, speaking falsehood.” The difference is whether the expressed verb provides the connection by meaning or an additional verb is understood.^[34]

The lighter form as mutual accusation: the deniers call the Muslims liars, while the Muslims count the deniers as liars. Al-Zamakhsharī explains the form through this mutual accusation, either as an action noun governed by an understood verb or as a حال (ḥāl): “while accusing one another of lying.” He also permits the idea of excessive lying, as though someone were trying to outdo another.

This introduces more than the basic act of denial. Abū Ḥayyān finds these explanations strained and prefers the simpler action-noun meaning.^[35]

A description of the people: al-Muntajab also permits the lighter كِذَابًا (kidhāban) as a plural of كَاذِب (kādhib), “liar,” functioning as a حال (ḥāl). The sense would be: “they denied Our signs as liars.”

The separately reported كُذَّابًا (kudhdhāban), with u on the kāf and a doubled dhāl, also permits a plural-of-liar circumstance. An alternative makes it a singular intensive description of an understood تَكْذِيبًا (takdhīban), “denial.” That gives an extreme act of denial, rather than describing the people.

The practical distinction is therefore between emphatic denial, mutual accusation and the deniers’ state as liars. Qirāʾāt identifies the reported readers and the status of these forms.^[36]

12. Why put “everything” first? (78:29)

In كُلَّ شَيْءٍ أَحْصَيْنَاهُ (kulla shayʾin aḥṣaynāhu), “everything We have enumerated,” the verb already has an object: the attached ـهُ (-hu), “it.” How, then, is the preceding “everything” in the accusative?

The baseline explains this as الاشتغال (al-ishtighāl): the expressed verb is occupied with the returning pronoun, while an understood verb governs “everything.” Its explanatory form is “We enumerated everything; We enumerated it.”

The English does not need that repetition. It explains the grammatical relationship; the translation states the enumeration once.^[37]

The reported nominative form كُلُّ شَيْءٍ (kullu shayʾin) begins a nominal sentence. “Everything” is its مبتدأ (mubtadaʾ), subject, and “We have enumerated it” is the predicate.

In English: “everything: We have enumerated it” displays this construction. A flowing translation can still say “everything We have enumerated.” The distinction is between an accusative noun governed by an understood verb and a nominative subject followed by its predicate.

Al-Samīn prefers the accusative construction here because a verbal clause precedes it. The recitation status of the reported nominative form is a separate question, addressed in Qirāʾāt.^[38]

A less usual proposal joins “everything” back to the pronoun governed by إِنَّ (inna) in verse 27. With the accusative form, “everything” becomes another noun under إِنَّ (inna), and “We have enumerated it” another predicate. With the nominative form, the proposal follows the underlying nominative position of the noun governed by إِنَّ (inna).

This would make verse 29 a joined part of the explanation begun in verse 27, rather than an intervening statement. Al-Ālūsī quotes the proposal from an unnamed scholar and finds it strained. It changes the connection between the sentences, not the assertion that Allah has enumerated everything.^[39]

13. “In writing”: an act of recording or things already written? (78:29)

The verb أَحْصَيْنَاهُ (aḥṣaynāhu) expresses enumeration, but كِتَابًا (kitāban) introduces writing. The first two explanations bring the words together by extending the meaning of one:

Writing as precise enumeration: كِتَابًا (kitāban) functions as the action noun of enumeration, because both counting and writing preserve something precisely.

Enumeration understood as writing: “We enumerated it” means “We wrote it,” and كِتَابًا (kitāban) expresses that act.

In English: “We precisely recorded everything” can convey either. The first explanation extends the noun’s meaning; the second extends the verb’s.^[40]

A description of the things enumerated: as a حال (ḥāl), كِتَابًا (kitāban) means “written.” The sense is “We enumerated everything, written down.”

Al-Muntajab explains how an action noun can refer to its result, just as “creation” can refer to what has been created. He relates that written state to the Tablet or the keepers’ records in the explanations he cites.

The grammatical change is from expressing the act of recording to describing the recorded things. The discussion of divine writing belongs to Q5.^[41]

An understood preposition: “We enumerated everything in a book.” Here the explanation is نزع الخافض (nazʿ al-khāfiḍ), omission of a preposition. The noun takes the accusative after that omission; English restores “in.” Ibn al-Aḥnaf includes this explanation.

A further proposal preserves both counting and writing through an abbreviated expression, with an element understood on each side (al-Ālūsī). Its explanatory sense is “We counted everything in a written record.” Unlike the first two explanations, neither counting nor writing has to acquire the other’s meaning.^[42]

14. Why does the record come between denial and “so taste”? (78:29)

The sequence is: they denied the signs; everything is recorded; so taste the punishment. Verse 29 intervenes between the reason for punishment and its consequence.

There is no contradiction between calling it joined grammatically and calling it an interruption in the argument. The baseline coordinates the understood enumeration clause with the fresh explanatory sentence in verse 27. Al-Samīn and Darwīsh describe verse 29 as الاعتراض (al-iʿtirāḍ), an intervening statement.

For the reader: the record is affirmed before the consequence is pronounced. The sentence need not become a predicate or a circumstance within the surrounding clauses. Q5 explains why the reminder of the record belongs here.^[43]

15. “So taste”: the consequence and the words addressed to the deniers (78:30)

The first فَـ (fa-), “so,” can answer an understood condition: “if you denied the signs, then taste.” The condition makes the reason for the command explicit.

An understood saying has a different job: it introduces the speech. Ṣāfī understands a saying before the command; Ibn ʿĀshūr explains it as a future utterance at recompense: “it will be said to them.” Condition and saying are therefore not competing explanations of the same omission. One explains why the command follows; the other introduces the address.^[44]

The command can also follow directly as a consequence, without an understood condition: “since you denied…, taste…” Darwīsh describes the first فَـ (fa-) as causal and the second as joining. The collective Iʿrāb associated with al-Daʿʿās calls the first joining and the second explanatory.

“So taste” can remain unchanged in English. The different labels explain the command’s connection to what precedes it and the following explanation.^[45]

The next clause means “We shall increase you only in punishment,” not “We shall not increase your punishment.” The exception is essential.

The verb has two objects: “you” identifies those receiving the increase, and عَذَابًا (ʿadhāban), “punishment,” identifies what is increased. After the negation, “except punishment” restricts the increase to punishment. This object relationship is unchanged by the separate discussion of لَنْ (lan) below.^[46]

16. Does “shall not” itself mean “never, for all eternity”? (78:30)

The baseline identifies three functions of لَنْ (lan): it negates, governs the following verb in naṣb, its subjunctive form, and refers to the future. The question is whether the particle also expresses emphasis or unending duration.

Emphasis is not the same as duration. Al-Zamakhsharī’s al-Unmūdhaj and al-Mufaṣṣal describe emphatic future negation. In the comparison collected by ʿAḍīmah, the latter illustrates it with:

⁧لن أبرح اليوم مكاني⁩

“I shall not leave my place today.”

The refusal is emphatic, but “today” confines it to that day. Emphasis alone does not make the refusal unending.^[47]

The force may also depend on the passage. In explaining 78:30, al-Zamakhsharī describes abandoning the increase as like an impossibility; his grammatical works state emphatic future negation. Abū Ḥayyān accepts emphatic negation in some passages but elsewhere asks for evidence that the emphasis belongs to the particle itself. ʿAḍīmah compares these explanations.

The distinction is between the force of the threat in its setting and what لَنْ (lan) necessarily means wherever it occurs.^[48]

Why not derive eternity from the particle alone? The constructions give three reasons:

1. It can occur with حَتَّى (ḥattā), “until.” Yūsuf’s brother says, “So I will never leave [this] land until my father permits me or Allah decides for me” (12:80). The condition qualifies the refusal.
2. It occurs with الْيَوْم (al-yawm), “today,” when Maryam is instructed to say, “so I will not speak today to [any] man” (19:26).
3. The addition of أَبَدًا (abadan), “ever,” would need explanation if لَنْ (lan) already expressed unending duration by itself. Ibn Hishām and Abū Ḥayyān raise this consideration.

These arguments concern what the particle contributes. The duration of punishment must be examined from the evidence concerning punishment, as in Q2.^[49]

Translation consequence: the baseline supports “We shall not increase you except in punishment,” without adding “forever” solely because of لَنْ (lan).

Ibn ʿĀshūr understands continuing negation here and applies it through the exception to continuing increase. That interpretation of the threat should be distinguished from a claim that every occurrence of the particle necessarily means eternity.^[50]

Ṣarf: Roots and Morphology

The word’s shape and its place in the sentence answer different questions. Iʿrāb explains, for example, why lābithīna is in naṣb. Ṣarf explains why lābith names someone remaining, how its plural is formed, and what changes when the shorter form labith is used. The tables follow the actual occurrences in these ten verses. Particles and attached pronouns are explained separately in Iʿrāb.

Forms in verses 21–23

The endings below belong to these occurrences, not to an unchanging dictionary form. The same -īna ending marks jarr after the preposition in li-l-ṭāghīna and naṣb in the circumstance lābithīna.^[1]

Forms in verses 24–26

The nouns name what is denied, what is tasted instead, and how that treatment corresponds to the conduct described. Their shared -an ending marks their actual naṣb; it does not make them all the same kind of noun.^[7]

Forms in verses 27–30

The forms distinguish what the people did from Allah’s complete enumeration and the increase addressed to them. An attached pronoun identifies a subject, object or possessor; it does not become part of the word’s lexical root.^[12]

Where the morphology changes the meaning

The forms below raise five questions: what kind of watching is meant, whether remaining is presented as a characteristic, what the plural “ages” expresses, how correspondence describes recompense, and whether the final noun expresses denial or describes liars.

1. مِرْصَاد (mirṣād): a lookout, watchfulness, or a vigilant watcher? (78:21)

The root رَصَدَ (raṣada) expresses watching. The question is what the pattern مِفْعَال (mifʿāl) adds to that meaning. Ibn ʿĀshūr explains three possibilities:

A place of watching: Hell is the lookout from which its appointed keepers watch for those brought to it. This is the place-noun explanation.

Watchfulness itself: Hell is described by an action noun, as though it were the very source of interception. Calling it “watching” makes the description emphatic.

A vigilant watcher: the form describes an exceptionally watchful guard. Hell is pictured through that intensive description.

All three concern watching, but they do not say precisely the same thing about the form: it can identify the place, intensify the activity, or describe a watcher.^[15]

Why is there no feminine ending? جَهَنَّم (Jahannam) is grammatically feminine, but مِرْصَاد (mirṣād) has no feminine ending. Two explanations answer this:

An expression of relation can mean ذات رصد (dhāt raṣd), “possessing watchfulness,” without acquiring a feminine ending. Abū Ḥayyān develops this explanation, also reflected in al-Naḥḥās’s نسبة (nisba), relation.

On Ibn ʿĀshūr’s intensive explanation, Hell is compared to an individual male guard. The masculine description follows that comparison. Neither explanation requires a different referent in English: it is still Hell being described.^[16]

Watching or prepared? There is a further active/passive distinction. “Watching for the unbelievers” presents interception as its activity; “prepared for their punishment” presents Hell as made ready for them. Ṣāfī allows both without preferring either.

In translation: “a lookout” expresses the place, “lying in wait” expresses the activity, and “prepared for them” expresses readiness. These are meaningful differences of emphasis, not interchangeable grammatical labels.^[17]

2. لَابِثِينَ (lābithīna) and لَبِثِينَ (labithīna): simply remaining, or characterized by remaining? (78:23)

The longer لَابِث (lābith) is an اسم فاعل (ism fāʿil), active participle: someone who remains. The shorter لَبِث (labith), on فَعِل (faʿil), can describe someone for whom remaining is characteristic, someone who stays in a place and scarcely leaves it.

That is the reason al-Zamakhsharī calls the shorter form stronger. Abū Ḥayyān illustrates the distinction with حَاذِر (ḥādhir), someone exercising caution, and حَذِر (ḥadhir), someone characterized by caution.

In English: “remaining” expresses the act; “habitually remaining” makes the proposed characteristic explicit.^[18]

The objection: a form for an innate quality seems unsuitable for remaining, which is not something a person is born with. This is Makkī’s objection to the فَعِل (faʿil) explanation.

The reply: the expression intensifies remaining until it resembles an innate quality (al-Samīn). It presents staying as characteristic of the people. That intensification does not, by itself, express eternity.^[19]

Is a difference in meaning necessary? Al-Muntajab treats the two forms as equivalent, comparing طَامِع / طَمِع (ṭāmiʿ / ṭamiʿ), covetous, and حَاذِر / حَذِر (ḥādhir / ḥadhir), cautious. On that explanation, “remaining” translates both without a change of emphasis.

A language text attributed to al-Farrāʾ gives a different distinction: لَبِث (labith) means slow, whereas لَابِث (lābith) means staying; it prefers the latter here. Thus the stronger-characteristic explanation is one scholarly interpretation of the forms, not an agreed difference that every translation must reproduce.^[20]

Can the shorter form govern the words that follow? This is a separate objection from the meaning of the form. Al-Ṭabarī prefers the longer active participle because it more readily governs a following expression. He contrasts the usual فَاعِل (fāʿil) construction, such as باخل بماله (bākhil bi-mālihi), “withholding his wealth,” with فَعِل (faʿil) descriptions commonly used for praise or blame.

His preference concerns ordinary usage, not impossibility. He acknowledges exceptions, including this poetry of Labīd:

⁧أوْ مِسْحَلٌ عَمِلٌ عِضَادَةَ سَمْحَجٍ⁩

⁧بِسَرَاتِهَا نَدَبٌ لَهُ وكُلُومُ⁩

“Or a tireless male wild ass at a she-ass’s flank,

with scars and wounds from him along her back.”

The evidence is عَمِلٌ عِضَادَةَ (ʿamilun ʿiḍādata): عَمِل (ʿamil), on the shorter فَعِل (faʿil) pattern, governs عِضَادَةَ (ʿiḍādata), “flank,” in the accusative. The poetry therefore proves that this government is possible. Al-Ṭabarī still regards the longer active-participle construction as more fluent.^[21]

A more direct answer concerns “for ages.” أَحْقَابًا (aḥqāban) is a time expression, ظرف زمان (ẓarf zamān), not an ordinary object. A word that takes no ordinary object can still govern an expression of time. Al-Naḥḥās therefore distinguishes this objection from the objection about innate qualities.

He continues to regard the shorter construction as less natural because of the innate-quality issue, while allowing it, and describes the longer form as clear and good. These grammatical preferences do not require a different English translation if both forms are understood simply as “remaining.”^[22]

3. أَحْقَابًا (aḥqāban): does the plural specify how long? (78:23)

The usual derivation: أَحْقَاب (aḥqāb) is a broken plural of حُقْب (ḥuqb), an age, on أَفْعَال (afʿāl). It expresses more than one age, without specifying the number or the length of each.

Ṣāfī gives حُقْب (ḥuqb), with a still qāf, in his Nabaʾ entry. In his discussion at 18:60 he also gives حُقُب (ḥuqub), with the second vowel following the first, and permits a fatḥah in that discussion. These differences concern the singular’s vowels; they do not make the plural a numbered unit of fixed length.^[23]

The alternative derivation: a plural of a plural. In the sequence given in Ibn al-Aḥnaf’s al-Bustān, حُقْبَة (ḥuqbah), a period, becomes حُقْب (ḥuqb), then أَحْقَاب (aḥqāb).

No necessary change in translation: both derivations give a plurality of ages. Whether those ages continue without an end depends on the context and other evidence discussed in Q2, not on choosing one plural derivation over the other.^[24]

4. وِفَاقًا (wifāqan): how does “correspondence” mean “fitting”? (78:26)

The verb وَافَقَ (wāfaqa), Form III, means to correspond or agree. Its action noun here is وِفَاق (wifāq), on فِعَال (fiʿāl).

Used as a description, the noun presents the recompense as “correspondence” itself, rather than merely saying that it corresponds. Ṣāfī identifies this as emphasis. “A fitting recompense” conveys the resulting meaning, though English uses an adjective where Arabic uses the action noun. Iʿrāb explains the alternative ways of connecting that description to “recompense.”^[25]

A plural derivation would make وِفَاق (wifāq) the plural of وِفْق (wifq), something corresponding. Abū Ḥayyān attributes this explanation to al-Farrāʾ. The idea of correspondence remains, but the word’s formation is explained through a plural rather than an action noun.

The ordinary form has a single fāʾ. Al-Samīn also mentions a reported doubled-fāʾ form derived from وفّقه لكذا, making something fit for a purpose. That is a separate reported form, not a reason to double the consonant when explaining the ordinary وِفَاقًا (wifāqan).^[26]

5. كِذَّابًا (kidhdhāban): why “denial” rather than “liars”? (78:28)

The form here has an initial i and a doubled dhāl: كِذَّاب (kidhdhāb) follows فِعَّال (fiʿʿāl). It is an action noun of كَذَّبَ (kadhdhaba), “to deny,” like the more familiar تَكْذِيب (takdhīb).

The word expresses the denial, not a group of liars. Al-Muntajab prefers the doubled form because it corresponds to the preceding doubled verb كَذَّبُوا (kadhdhabū), “they denied.”^[27]

The two action nouns are formed differently. Makkī explains كِذَّاب (kidhdhāb) from the letters of the past verb, with an added alif and changed vowels. In تَكْذِيب (takdhīb), the initial tāʾ corresponds to the medial doubling, while yāʾ replaces alif.

This is a difference of formation, not a requirement to translate one as denial and the other as something else.^[28]

Regional usage also explains why an unfamiliar form can have a familiar meaning. The language text attributed to al-Farrāʾ contrasts Yemeni كِذَّاب (kidhdhāb) with Najdi تَكْذِيب (takdhīb). Both express denial. Ibn ʿĀshūr likewise attributes the Yemeni explanation to al-Farrāʾ and notes the Arabs’ use of the form.^[29]

Evidence from comparable words: فِسَّار (fissār) can express explanation, like تَفْسِير (tafsīr), and قِصَّار (qiṣṣār) can express shortening, like تَقْصِير (taqṣīr). These examples show فِعَّال (fiʿʿāl) expressing the action of a verb with a doubled middle consonant.

Al-Samīn quotes al-Zamakhsharī’s recollection of someone hearing him explain a verse and saying:

لقد فَسَّرْتَها فِسَّاراً ما سُمِعَ بمثِله

“You have explained it with an explanation the like of which has not been heard.”

A separate anonymous question about pilgrimage asks:

آلحَلْقُ أحَبُّ إليك أم القِصَّار

“Is shaving dearer to you, or shortening?”^[30]

The unfamiliar form therefore does not require an unfamiliar kind of action. Both examples support understanding كِذَّاب (kidhdhāb) as an action noun.

The poetic witness makes the same point:

⁧لقد طالَ ما ثَبَّطْتَني عن صَحابتي⁩

⁧وعن حاجةٍ قِضَّاؤُها مِنْ شِفائِيا⁩

“Long have you held me back from my companions,

and from a need whose fulfilment would be part of my cure.”

The word that matters is قِضَّاء (qiḍḍāʾ), explained by al-Samīn as تَقَضِّي (taqaḍḍī), fulfilment. Like “explanation” and “shortening” above, it demonstrates the doubled action-noun pattern. The poem’s role here is to establish that Arabic formation.^[31]

What changes when the doubling is removed? The lighter كِذَاب (kidhāb) can be an action noun of كَذِبَ (kadhiba), “to lie.” Its connection with the verse’s doubled verb is then by meaning: denying the truth is speaking falsely.

Al-Zamakhsharī also explains it through مُكَاذَبَة (mukādhaba), mutual accusation of lying, or the effort to outdo another in lying. Iʿrāb explains how these proposals change the sentence: simple falsehood, mutual accusation, or excessive lying.^[32]

The undoubled action noun is illustrated by poetry attributed to al-Aʿshā:

⁧فَصَدَقْتُها وكَذَبْتُها⁩

⁧والمَرْءُ يَنْفَعُه كِذابُه⁩

“I told her truth and told her lies;

a man may benefit from his lying.”

Here كِذَاب (kidhāb) is an action noun of the undoubled verb “to lie.” The poetic example supports that derivation; the poet’s claim about benefiting from lying is his own.^[33]

What changes with initial “u”? كُذَّاب (kudhdhāb) can be a plural of كَاذِب (kādhib), “liar,” like ضُرَّاب (ḍurrāb) from ضَارِب (ḍārib). This is Abū Ḥātim’s explanation. It describes liars, not the action noun denial explained above.

Ibn Jinnī allows further explanations: a singular intensive description of an understood act of denial, or a plural after treating lying as a type characterized by falsehood.

Translation consequence: the vowels and construction determine whether the emphasis is on denial, on people described as liars, or on an intensely false act. Qirāʾāt identifies the reported readers.^[34]

Balāghah: Rhetorical Analysis

Confirming the warning and naming its recipients (⁧التوكيد؛ الإظهار في مقام الإضمار⁩, al-tawkīd; al-iẓhār fī maqām al-iḍmār)

Where it is. ⁧إِنَّ جَهَنَّمَ كَانَتْ مِرْصَادًا لِلطَّاغِينَ مَآبًا⁩, “Indeed, Hell has been lying in wait / For the transgressors, a place of return.”

The plain way. A simple statement would identify the destination and its inhabitants without connecting the opening assertion to the earlier assertion about the Day of Separation. If the address begun in verse 18 continues here, “for you” would also identify the hearers without naming their offence.

What it does. Ibn ʿĀshūr explains two possible connections. If the sentence about Hell is a further predicate concerning the Day already introduced by inna in verse 17, the new inna adds ⁧تَأْكِيدًا عَلَى التَّأْكِيدِ⁩, “confirmation upon confirmation.” The warning about what happens on that Day is itself confirmed within the earlier assertion. His poetic comparison illustrates that nested construction.^[1]

On the predicate construction, naming “the transgressors” rather than saying “you” identifies the recipients through the conduct for which they are threatened. The noun does more than repeat a reference. It marks transgression as relevant to their destination. If, instead, verse 21 begins a fresh answer to the question raised by the preceding terrors, “what will follow?”, Ibn ʿĀshūr does not treat the noun as replacing an expected pronoun. The rhetorical explanation changes with the construction.^[2]

The effect. The predicate construction joins the warning closely to the announced Day and identifies its recipients by their offence. The second answers the question of what awaits people after the gathering. Both connect Hell with the gathering, but only the predicate construction explains “the transgressors” as replacing “you.”

The lookout and the abode (⁧الاستعارة؛ الكناية⁩, al-istiʿāra; al-kināya)

Where it is. ⁧مِرْصَادًا⁩ (mirṣādan), “lying in wait,” and ⁧مَآبًا⁩ (maʾāban), “a place of return.”

The plain way. A statement could say only that the transgressors will enter a place of punishment. The chosen words connect that destination with watchfulness and settled residence.

What it does. On the intensive-watcher explanation of mirṣād, Hell is described through the image of a vigilant guard. Ibn ʿĀshūr calls this ⁧عَلَى طَرِيقَةِ الِاسْتِعَارَةِ⁩, “by way of metaphor.” The point of comparison is interception: those appointed to enter do not escape the watching. On his place-noun explanation, it is the lookout from which the keepers watch. The metaphor applies to the vigilant-watcher interpretation; the place noun instead denotes a lookout.^[3]

The second word completes the movement from interception to residence. Maʾāb begins with the sense of a return-place, then becomes a familiar name for the place where someone settles. Ibn ʿĀshūr describes its origin as an indirect expression which became common usage. Its function here is to name the abode, not to assert an earlier life in Hell. He also explains the early placement of “for the transgressors” before the abode-word as striking fear into the people addressed.^[4]

The effect. A destination can be imagined as distant and avoidable. A lookout awaiting its entrants removes that imagined safety; an abode identifies what follows their arrival. The imagery links being intercepted with remaining, while the passage itself identifies the people concerned.

Ages as an indirect expression of continuance (⁧الكناية⁩, al-kināya)

Where it is. ⁧لَابِثِينَ فِيهَا أَحْقَابًا⁩, “In which they will remain for ages [unending].”

The plain way. A statement might name a fixed number of ages, giving the reader a total to count. This phrase names ages without stating such a total.

What it does. Al-Hararī calls the whole expression a kināya for unending residence. Ibn ʿĀshūr explains the connection through familiar usage: successive ages evoke continuing stretches of time, and the other verses concerning the people described determine the conclusion. The indirect expression works through that usage and context. ^[5]

The effect. Age following age makes the long residence imaginable without giving a final date. Q2 develops the alternative interpretations and the evidence about duration.

Tasting as experienced suffering (⁧المجاز⁩, al-majāz)

Where it is. ⁧لَا يَذُوقُونَ فِيهَا بَرْدًا وَلَا شَرَابًا⁩, “They will not taste therein [any] coolness or drink,” and ⁧فَذُوقُوا⁩, “So taste.”

The plain way. “Experience” can describe suffering without naming any bodily contact. “Taste” brings that experience closer to an immediately felt encounter.

What it does. Tasting literally concerns the flavour of food or drink. Its familiar extended use includes experiencing pain and other bodily or inward conditions. Ibn ʿĀshūr explains that the same verb here reaches both coolness and drink: cooling is experienced, whereas drink can be tasted in the ordinary sense. Abū Ḥayyān likewise distinguishes the metaphorical application to cooling air or sleep from the literal application under the pleasant-drink interpretation of bard.^[6]

The effect. The deprivation is not described only as the absence of things around the inhabitants. It is expressed through what reaches their experience. When the same verb returns as “taste” in 30, the earlier description becomes a rebuke directed to those undergoing it.

Coolness set against scalding heat (⁧الطباق⁩, al-ṭibāq)

Where it is. ⁧بَرْدًا⁩, “coolness,” and ⁧حَمِيمًا⁩, “scalding water.”

The plain way. A list of painful things could name scalding water without first naming the cooling relief which the sufferers lack.

What it does. Al-Ṣābūnī and al-Hararī identify ṭibāq, opposition, between these terms. The contrast is between cooling and intense heat. In the sentence, the first is denied and the second is what is encountered instead. They receive heat in place of the cooling they need.^[7]

The effect. The term for relief makes the heat’s painful character more apparent. What the sufferer would seek is named before its contrary.

An ordered exception which confirms deprivation (⁧اللف والنشر المرتب؛ تأكيد الشيء بما يشبه ضده⁩, al-laff wa-l-nashr al-murattab; taʾkīd al-shayʾ bi-mā yushbihu ḍiddahu)

Where it is. ⁧لَا يَذُوقُونَ فِيهَا بَرْدًا وَلَا شَرَابًا إِلَّا حَمِيمًا وَغَسَّاقًا⁩, “They will not taste therein [any] coolness or drink. Except scalding water and [foul] purulence.”

The plain way. “They have no relief, but undergo painful things instead” states the contrast directly. An exception after a denial can initially suggest that something has been spared from that denial.

What it does. On the ordered pairing explained in Q3, Ibn ʿĀshūr names the arrangement al-laff wa-l-nashr al-murattab: two things are mentioned, then their counterparts follow in the same order. The rhetorical movement depends on what this sequence leads the hearer to expect.

The exception’s outward form therefore seems about to qualify the deprivation, but its content confirms it. He calls this ⁧تَأْكِيدِ الشَّيْءِ بِمَا يُشْبِهُ ضِدَّهُ فِي الصُّورَةِ⁩, “confirming a thing through what resembles its opposite in form.” The surprise comes from an exception that promises no relief but adds suffering.^[8]

The effect. The apparent opening for relief closes. The ordered correspondence makes each denied benefit meet a painful counterpart. Q3 explains Ibn ʿĀshūr’s pairing and the alternatives.

Reasons and a complete record between two threats (⁧التعليل؛ الاعتراض⁩, al-taʿlīl; al-iʿtirāḍ)

Where it is. The warning in 21–26 is followed by ⁧إِنَّهُمْ كَانُوا لَا يَرْجُونَ حِسَابًا⁩, “Indeed, they were not expecting an account,” their denial in 28, and the comprehensive enumeration in 29, before the command in 30.

The plain way. Repeating the threat immediately would renew its severity without explaining why it is deserved. The actual arrangement places reasons and the complete record before the concluding rebuke.

What it does. Ibn ʿĀshūr treats 27–28 as an explanation of the preceding warning. The inna here draws attention to the information; it need not answer someone denying that these people reject the reckoning and the signs. He explains that inna, used for this emphasis, can express a reason comparable to an explanatory fāʾ. The description tells the reader why the recompense just named corresponds to their conduct.^[9]

Verse 29 then intervenes before the consequence is pronounced. The two offences are not the only deeds known: everything relevant is enumerated. Ibn ʿĀshūr calls this iʿtirāḍ, an intervening statement, whose benefit is to tell the recipients at once that their other deeds are known too. Abū Ḥayyān also identifies the interruption and connects “So taste” to their denial. ^[10]

The effect. The final threat follows the explanation of its justice and the assurance that no deed is overlooked. Q4 explains fitting recompense; Q5 examines what is recorded and why. The rhetorical arrangement joins those matters to the final rebuke rather than leaving it as an isolated threat.

Hope for reckoning and the implied contrast (⁧الكناية التعريضية⁩, al-kināya al-taʿrīḍiyya)

Where it is. ⁧لَا يَرْجُونَ حِسَابًا⁩, “they were not expecting an account,” with rajāʾ, hope.

The plain way. A word for expecting an unwelcome event could describe their attitude to a reckoning which would expose their conduct. “Hope” ordinarily concerns something desired.

What it does. On Ibn ʿĀshūr’s explanation, denying hope of reckoning to the polytheists also indirectly evokes the believers who welcome deliverance and anticipate that Day with hope. He distinguishes the explicit statement of the deniers’ unbelief from this implied contrast. His expression is ⁧بِصَرِيحِهِ⁩ and ⁧بِكِنَايَتِهِ⁩: “by what it states directly” and “by what it conveys indirectly.” The choice of the hopeful word makes the second relationship possible.^[11]

The effect. Within the warning, the hearer can also recognize a different response to the same Day. Q4 compares the other explanations of rajāʾ.

Emphatic denial and matching endings (⁧الفواصل؛ السجع المرصع⁩, al-fawāṣil; al-sajʿ al-muraṣṣaʿ)

Where it is. ⁧وَكَذَّبُوا بِآيَاتِنَا كِذَّابًا⁩, “And denied Our verses with [emphatic] denial.”

The plain way. The verb alone states their denial. Its action noun can also take the familiar form takdhīb. The verse uses kidhdhāb, which both reinforces the verb and fits the surrounding endings.

What it does. The mafʿūl muṭlaq names the action again to emphasize its force: the denial is emphatic. Ibn ʿĀshūr also explains the choice of this action-noun form over takdhīb through ⁧التَّمَاثُلِ فِي فَوَاصِلِ هَذِهِ السُّورَةِ⁩, “correspondence in this sūrah’s verse endings.” Kidhdhāb has a long ā where takdhīb has ī, matching the long ā heard across these endings. He compares the recurrence of alif with the patterned use of alif in poetic rhyme.

Al-Ṣābūnī includes maʾāban and aḥqāban in the patterned endings which he calls ⁧السجع المرصع⁩ (al-sajʿ al-muraṣṣaʿ), ornamented rhyming prose. His terminology and Ibn ʿĀshūr’s explanation both direct attention to the audible correspondence. Ṣarf has already developed the Arabic usage and full poetic witnesses establishing the action-noun pattern.^[12]

The effect. Meaning and cadence work together: the added action noun intensifies the denial, while its form continues the passage’s matching endings.

Enumeration and writing as precision (⁧الكناية⁩, al-kināya)

Where it is. ⁧وَكُلَّ شَيْءٍ أَحْصَيْنَاهُ كِتَابًا⁩, “But all things We have enumerated in writing.”

The plain way. “All is known” states comprehensiveness without naming counting or writing. The verse expresses precision through both.

What it does. Counting secures the number of things; writing is a familiar means of guarding what has been counted from omission. Ibn ʿĀshūr calls enumeration an indirect expression of exact mastery, and writing an indirect expression of its intensity. Al-Rāzī explains the force through firmness and confirmation, but also distinguishes divine knowledge from human writing: writing can perish, whereas Allah’s knowledge cannot. The image teaches precision; Q5 explains this comparison.^[13]

The effect. The assurance concerns an exact account of the offences, beyond a general awareness that they occurred. The comparison is compatible with the literal writing discussed in Q5.

Each expressed element points to an understood counterpart (⁧الاحتباك⁩, al-iḥtibāk)

Where it is. ⁧أَحْصَيْنَاهُ كِتَابًا⁩, “We have enumerated [it] in writing.”

The plain way. Both actions could be developed separately, with each verb followed by its own action noun. Al-Biqāʿī makes that explanatory construction explicit.

What it does. Al-Biqāʿī prefers the possibility of iḥtibāk: the expressed enumeration points to its understood action noun, while the expressed action noun for writing points to an understood verb of writing. He expands the sentence as ⁧أحصيناه إحصاء وكتبناه كتاباً⁩, “We enumerated it with an enumeration, and wrote it with a writing.”

The two expressed elements thus explain the two unexpressed counterparts. Enumeration and writing are connected through their common work of exact preservation. He concludes that the enumeration and writing are ⁧لعدم الظلم⁩, “so that there is no injustice.”^[14]

The effect. On al-Biqāʿī’s explanation, the brief expression conveys both complete enumeration and writing. The paired omissions join the two actions without repeating each in full.

A command of humiliation: direct address or a future saying? (⁧الأمر للإهانة؛ الالتفات⁩, al-amr li-l-ihāna; al-iltifāt)

Where it is. ⁧فَذُوقُوا⁩, “So taste,” after the earlier third-person descriptions.

The plain way. “They will taste punishment” would continue describing their fate. The imperative confronts its recipients with what they are undergoing.

What it does. The command is not an invitation to choose an agreeable action. Al-Ṣābūnī calls it ⁧الإهانة والتحقير⁩, “humiliation and contempt”; Ibn ʿĀshūr explains it as ⁧التَّوْبِيخِ وَالتَّقْرِيعِ⁩, “rebuke and reprimand.” The imperative’s force follows the punitive setting.^[15]

On the address-shift interpretation, those previously spoken about are now spoken to. Al-Ṣābūnī names iltifāt and explains the turn as an increase in rebuke and humiliation; al-Hararī gives the same mechanism. Al-Biqāʿī connects it with severe disgrace and anger. The hearer is no longer left outside a description of absent people: the utterance presents the offenders as recipients of the rebuke.^[16]

Ibn ʿĀshūr instead understands a saying introduced here. Because “taste” belongs to recompense, he understands a future utterance: “then it is said to them.” The direct address belongs to that newly introduced speech. Hence his conclusion, ⁧فَلَيْسَ فِي ضَمِيرِ الْخِطَابِ الْتِفَاتٌ⁩, “there is therefore no iltifāt in the pronoun of address.” The construction can bring the future rebuke before the hearer without being a pronoun-turn within the preceding narration.^[17]

The effect. The confrontation can thus be explained through a change of address or through a future saying brought before the hearer. Q6 explains who speaks and when.

An exception which intensifies the punishment (⁧تأكيد الشيء بما يشبه ضده⁩, taʾkīd al-shayʾ bi-mā yushbihu ḍiddahu)

Where it is. ⁧فَلَنْ نَزِيدَكُمْ إِلَّا عَذَابًا⁩, “and never will We increase you except in torment.”

The plain way. “You will receive more punishment” states the increase directly. Negation followed by an exception makes the hearer pass through a different sequence.

What it does. The opening denial of increase can initially suggest that the punishment already described is its limit. The exception then states that further punishment awaits. Ibn ʿĀshūr calls the construction confirmation through what resembles the opposite: what first sounds like a limit ends by intensifying the threat. His phrase ⁧حُزْنًا فَوْقَ حُزْنٍ⁩ means “grief upon grief.” The first prospect concerns no addition to the existing suffering, not an expectation of release.^[18]

Al-Maṭʿanī likewise follows the threat from its opening through the final exception. Its severity does not stop with the previously described punishment: the exception removes the supposition that this is all they face. He contrasts an increase of mercy, which is denied, with an increase of punishment. ^[19]

The effect. The conclusion does more than repeat the earlier threat. It adds the expectation of further suffering after the reasons and complete record have been stated. Ibn ʿĀshūr also understands an unending increase from lan. Q6 and Iʿrāb explain why other grammarians do not give the particle that meaning by itself.

Qirāʾāt: The Readings

Two words in verses 21–30 have different forms among the ten accepted readings: “remaining” in verse 23 and the name of the drink in verse 25. The differences concern their word forms, not whether the transgressors remain or whether their drink is punishment. Other variations concern how a word is pronounced when continuing or pausing. Those performance choices need their own conditions; they are not additional translations of the verse.

The accepted word forms

“Remaining”: ⁧لَابِثِينَ⁩ (lābithīna) and ⁧لَبِثِينَ⁩ (labithīna), verse 23. Ḥamzah and Rawḥ recite the form without the long ā after the lām. The remaining readers and transmitters among the ten retain that long vowel. Rawḥ is one of Yaʿqūb’s two transmitters. Ibn al-Jazarī states:

⁧فَقَرَأَ حَمْزَةُ، وَرَوْحٌ «لَبِثِينَ» بِغَيْرِ أَلِفٍ، وَقَرَأَ الْبَاقُونَ بِالْأَلِفِ⁩

“Ḥamzah and Rawḥ read labithīna without an alif, and the rest read it with the alif.”^[1]

Both forms describe remaining. The shorter form can describe someone for whom staying is a settled characteristic, rather than merely naming someone who stays. That morphological explanation, the alternative that the forms have the same sense, and the linguistic objections and answers are developed in Ṣarf. Neither form, by itself, says how long the stay lasts. The duration argument belongs to the whole expression and its context, as explained in Q2.^[2]

Al-Dānī’s work covers the seven readings and therefore identifies Ḥamzah alone for labithīna. Ibn al-Jazarī’s ten-reader treatment also includes Rawḥ.^[3]

The drink: ⁧غَسَّاقًا⁩ (ghassāqan) and ⁧غَسَاقًا⁩ (ghasāqan), verse 25. Ḥamzah, al-Kisāʾī, Khalaf and Ḥafṣ double the sīn; the remaining readers and transmitters among the ten pronounce a single sīn. Khalaf here is the imam of the ten; Ḥafṣ is one of ʿĀṣim’s transmitters, not both. Ibn al-Jazarī gives this distribution jointly for the occurrences in Ṣād 38:57 and An-Nabaʾ 78:25.^[4]

The doubled sīn allows an intensive derivation; the lighter form can be a name for the substance. Neither determines whether the drink is foul discharge or extreme cold. Q3 examines those meanings.^[5]

“They denied … with denial”: ⁧كِذَّابًا⁩ (kidhdhāban), verse 28. All ten have the doubled dhāl here. Ibn al-Jazarī states agreement:

⁧وَاتَّفَقُوا عَلَى قَوْلِهِ تَعَالَى: وَكَذَّبُوا بِآيَاتِنَا كِذَّابًا فِي هَذِهِ السُّورَةِ أَنَّهُ بِالتَّشْدِيدِ لِوُجُودِ فِعْلِهِ مَعَهُ⁩

“They agreed that His saying in this sūrah, ‘and they denied Our signs with denial,’ has the doubled form, because its verb occurs with it.”^[6]

Al-Kisāʾī’s accepted lighter form belongs to verse 35, ⁧وَلَا كِذَابًا⁩, “and no falsehood.” In verse 28, by contrast, all ten double the dhāl: the action noun reinforces “they denied.” Verse 35 describes what is not heard in Paradise.^[7]

Mutawātir means received through continuous, widespread transmission. Ibn al-Jazarī’s al-Nashr identifies the forms and readers shown here.^[8]

Pausing and continuing: what changes in performance

A qirāʾah is an imam’s reading; a riwāyah identifies a named transmitter from him; a ṭarīq is a further route through that transmitter. Choices from different routes cannot be freely combined. Kharūf describes the following ways of continuing and pausing, each under its stated conditions.^[9]

Verse 22, ⁧مَآبًا⁩ (maʾāban), “a place of return.” At a pause, Kharūf gives Ḥamzah tashīl, easing the hamzah. Al-Azraq, a route from Warsh, has three lengths of madd al-badal, lengthening where a hamzah precedes a long vowel. The variation changes pronunciation, not the meaning of “a place of return.”^[10]

Verse 28, ⁧بِآيَاتِنَا⁩ (bi-āyātinā), “Our signs.” When Ḥamzah pauses on the word, Kharūf gives either taḥqīq, articulating the hamzah, or its replacement by yāʾ. He also identifies al-Azraq’s three badal lengths.^[11]

Verse 29, ⁧شَيْءٍ⁩ (shayʾin), “a thing.” Several choices concern the silent yāʾ before the hamzah. Sakt is a brief interruption of the sound without taking a new breath; waqf is a pause at which recitation stops. Naql transfers the hamzah’s vowel to the preceding letter. Keeping these different actions separate explains why the following options are not interchangeable:

Each of the two pausing procedures also permits rawm, a faint indication of the final vowel, producing four options in Kharūf’s explanation. Where the table says “depending on the route,” the choice is not available through every route from that reader.^[12]

Verse 30, ⁧نَزِيدَكُمْ إِلَّا⁩ (nazīdakum illā), “increase you except.” At the plural pronoun’s mīm before the next hamzah, Kharūf gives sakt for Ibn Dhakwān, Ḥafṣ, Ḥamzah and Idrīs, depending on the route. His pausing explanation for Ḥamzah retains articulation of the hamzah, with or without sakt. The brief sakt is not a full stop separating “increase you” from “except.”^[13]

Another performance connects the plural mīm with a pronounced wāw. For Warsh, Kharūf distinguishes al-Azraq’s fully lengthened connection from al-Aṣbahānī’s non-fully-lengthened one. He also names Qālūn depending on the route, Ibn Kathīr and Abū Jaʿfar for the connection. Each follows his own treatment of madd munfaṣil, lengthening across the boundary between two words. These sound differences do not change who is addressed or what is excepted.^[14]

Kharūf also includes readers outside the ten. He gives al-Aʿmash the shorter form in verse 23 and doubled sīn in verse 25, and Ibn Muḥayṣin the plural-mīm connection in verse 30. These are additional reported readings, not additions to the ten.^[15]

Pauses that help preserve the meaning

The place of a pause can make a grammatical relationship easier or harder to hear. Al-Naysābūrī’s recommendations show this without turning every verse ending into the end of a sentence. In his notation, the small circle marks a verse ending; another sign gives the kind of pause. His classifications concern the relationship of the meanings on either side.^[16]

Al-Naysābūrī uses these recommendations to protect the connection of meanings. His “no stop” and lāzim classifications are not legal rulings that every such pause is forbidden or obligatory. Iʿrāb explains the grammatical relationships.^[17]

Additional attributed forms

The grammatical works also discuss forms outside the ten accepted readings. Their reported readers and effects on meaning are explained below.

⁧أَنَّ جَهَنَّمَ⁩ (anna jahannama), verse 21. Al-Samīn attributes this form to Ibn Yaʿmar and Abū ʿAmr al-Minqārī. With fatḥah on the hamzah, the sentence explains the preceding events: the Hour brings recompense, for Hell has been prepared for the transgressors. With kasrah, ⁧إِنَّ⁩ (inna) instead opens an independent emphatic statement. Al-Samīn quotes the causal explanation from al-Zamakhsharī.^[18]

Doubled fāʾ, verse 26. Abū Ḥayyān attributes a form with doubled fāʾ to Abū Ḥaywah, Abū Baḥriyyah and Ibn Abī ʿAblah. He derives it from making something fit for a purpose: recompense suited to the deeds. This differs in formation from ordinary wifāqan, “correspondence.”^[19]

⁧كِذَابًا⁩ (kidhāban), verse 28. Al-Samīn attributes the single-dhāl form to ʿAlī ⁧رضي الله عنه⁩, al-Aʿmash, Abū Rajāʾ and ʿĪsā of Basra. As an action noun of “to lie,” it describes lying through denial. Iʿrāb explains the other grammatical possibilities. This reported form at verse 28 is distinct from al-Kisāʾī’s accepted kidhāban in verse 35.^[20]

⁧كُذَّابًا⁩ (kudhdhāban), verse 28. This form begins with ḍammah and doubles the dhāl. Ibn Jinnī quotes Abū Ḥātim, who explains it as a plural of “liar”: the deniers are described as lying. Ibn Jinnī also allows other derivations, explained in Ṣarf. The reported readers differ between the grammatical works, as detailed in the note; this form is outside the ten.^[21]

Raised ⁧وَكُلُّ شَيْءٍ⁩ (wa-kullu shayʾin), verse 29. Abū Ḥayyān attributes this form to Abū al-Sammāl. It begins a nominal sentence, making “everything” its subject; the accepted ⁧وَكُلَّ شَيْءٍ⁩ (wa-kulla shayʾin) has naṣb under the understood verb explained by “We counted it.” Both constructions can express the complete accounting. The change concerns the sentence’s organization, not an exception from Allah’s knowledge.^[22]

Orthography: a written alif and a pronounced vowel are not the same thing

The inherited spelling of the muṣḥaf does not write every pronounced long vowel with a full alif. Ibn Najāḥ records omission of the alif in the written forms corresponding to al-ṭāghīn, “the transgressors,” and lābithīn, “remaining,” and then in aḥṣaynāhu, “We counted it,” and kitāban, “in writing.” A spelling without a full alif can therefore accompany a pronounced long vowel. In particular, the spelling of lābithīn does not establish that only labithīn may be recited.^[23]

The construction in ⁧أَحْصَيْنَاهُ⁩ (aḥṣaynāhu) makes the distinction especially clear. The first-person plural ending nā, “We,” is followed by the object pronoun hu, “it.” Ibn Najāḥ’s general rule, illustrated by razaqnāhum, “We provided them,” omits the alif of nā between the nūn and the attached pronoun while identifying that alif as present in pronunciation. His An-Nabaʾ entry applies the omission to aḥṣaynāhu. The recited nā remains long.^[24]

The editor, Aḥmad ibn Aḥmad Sharshāl, draws a further condition from the examples: this omission concerns nā inside the written word, before the attached object pronoun. When nā is word-final, its alif is retained. The note acknowledges that the two authorities it discusses do not state that condition in those words; it is an inference from their examples. The spelling rule and that explanatory inference should therefore be credited separately.^[25]

The accepted recitations tell us which sounds are transmitted; orthography tells us how those words are written. The relationship between them must be learned from their respective evidence, not decided from the presence or absence of a full alif alone. And Allah knows best.

Appendix: al-Ḥumayd’s complete poem

The argument in poetry: what would eventual mercy mean? The finite-duration case also takes a more categorical poetic form. In the appendix to al-Ḥumayd’s al-Furqān fī Bayān Iʿjāz al-Qurʾān, the poem ⁧تعليل أقدار الجليل⁩, “Explaining the purposes of the Majestic One’s decrees,” joins the language of abiding to the questions of wisdom, mercy and purification. Its first-person reference to “our book al-Inkār” connects it with the book’s authorial setting. This is al-Ḥumayd’s appendix argument, not a poem by Ibn al-Qayyim or Ibn Taymiyyah.^[1]

Return to Q2’s discussion.

Perfection before creation and the purpose of the test.

⁧كان الإلهُ وليس شيئاً غيرهُ ... وهو الجليلُ وعَزَّ ذُو السلطانِ⁩

Allah was, and there was nothing other than Him; He is the Majestic, mighty, the Possessor of sovereignty.

⁧كَمُلَتْ له أوْصافهُ وتَقَدَّستْ ... عَمّا يُشَابِهُ مِنْ مثيلٍ ثاني⁩

His attributes were complete and holy, beyond resembling any second being like Him.

⁧فاعرفْ إلهكَ قبل مخلوقاتهِ ... إذْ لا وُجُودَ لِهذه الأكوان⁩

Know your God before His creatures, when these worlds had no existence.

⁧هو محسنٌ هو راحمٌ هو واهبٌ ... ليس العذابُ مُرَادَ ذي الإحسان⁩

He is beneficent, merciful and giving; punishment is not the purpose of the Possessor of beneficence.

⁧واعرفْهُ قبل وجود مخلوقاتهِ ... ملكٌ حليمٌ ليس بالغضبان⁩

Know Him before His creatures existed: a King, forbearing, not then angry.

⁧والشرُّ ليس إليه ﷻ ... فاعرف إلهك أحسنَ العرفان⁩

Evil is not attributed to Him, majestic and exalted; know your God with the best knowledge.

⁧وَلِحِكْمَةٍ خَلَقَ الشرورَ بِمُلكهِ ... وهو المقدِّرُ كُفْرَ ذي الكفران⁩

For a wisdom He created evils within His dominion; He decrees the unbelief of the unbeliever.

⁧إبليسُ خالِقُهُ وخالقُ كفرهِ ... وكذلك الأتباعُ بالطغيان⁩

He created Iblīs and created his unbelief, and likewise the followers in their transgression.

⁧أقدارهُ سبقتْ وليس بُمجْبَرٍ ... بل باختيارٍ منه ذَا العصيان⁩

His decrees came first, yet the sinner is not compelled; this disobedience is by his own choice.

⁧هو قد أراد إرادةً كَونيةً ... أنّ الفسوقَ يكونُ في الإنسان⁩

He has willed, with His universal will, that wickedness should occur in the human being.

⁧هي حكمةٌ قد شاءَها لِمصالحٍ ... ومقاصِدٍ عُلِمَتْ لِذِي الإيمان⁩

It is a wisdom He has willed for benefits and purposes known to the person of faith.

⁧منها ظهور صفاتِهِ وجلالها ... مثل الغفور يجود بالغفران⁩

Among them is the manifestation of His attributes and their majesty: the All-Forgiving bestows forgiveness.

⁧وكذلك التوابُ ﷻ ... ولِذاكَ يَخْلُقُ طاعة الشيطان⁩

And likewise the Accepter of repentance, majestic and exalted; for that He creates obedience to Satan.

⁧لِيكون إغْوَاءً ودَعْوةَ باطلٍ ... وهو ابتلاءُ العبد بالفرقان⁩

So that there may be seduction and a call to falsehood: the servant is tested by the criterion.^[2]

Abiding in the Fire and the Fire’s own duration.

⁧ليعود منكسراً ذليلاً عبدُهُ ... يرجوه مغفرةً لما هو جاني⁩

So that His servant may return broken and humbled, hoping for forgiveness of what he has committed.

⁧حِكَمٌ تجلُّ وَعَدُّها مُتعذِّرٌ ... هذي الإشارةُ حَسب ذي العرفان⁩

These are exalted wisdoms, beyond enumeration; this indication is enough for one who understands.

⁧أما الذي ما تاب من كفرانه ... فله الوعيد بدائِم النيران⁩

As for him who does not repent of his unbelief, the warning of enduring fires awaits him.

⁧وله الخلود مُؤبّدٌ تعذيبهُ ... جِلْدٌ سَيَنْضُجُ مُعْقَباً بالثاني⁩

For him is abiding, his punishment made perpetual: one skin will be burned, followed by another.

⁧ليس الخروج بحاصِلٍ أبداً لهُ ... هذا جزاءٌ جاء بالقرآن⁩

Departure will never be his; this is recompense brought by the Qurʾān.

⁧واتى بسُنّةِ من عليه صلاتنا ... وسلامنا في دائم الأزمان⁩

It also came in the Sunnah of him upon whom are our prayers and peace through all times.

⁧لكن هذا دائمٌ بدوامها ... والنار ليس تدومُ بالبرهان⁩

But this endures for as long as the Fire endures; the Fire does not endure, according to the proof.

⁧اعرف إلهك ليس في أوصافهِ ... شرٌّ وليس مرادُهُ العدوان⁩

Know your God: there is no evil in His attributes, and aggression is not His purpose.

⁧إن العذابَ دواءُ من هو فاسدٌ ... كالحَدِّ في الدنيا لذي العصيان⁩

Punishment is medicine for the corrupt person, like the prescribed penalty in this world for the disobedient.

⁧من قال إن عذابه بدوامهِ ... فهو الجهولُ بربه الرحمن⁩

Whoever says that His punishment lasts as long as He does is ignorant of his Lord, the All-Merciful.

⁧إذ انهُ عَرَفَ الإله بفهمِهِ ... لا فَهم صَحْبِ نبينا العدناني⁩

For he has known God through his own understanding, not the understanding of the Companions of our ʿAdnānī Prophet.

⁧ويريد تعظيم الإله بزعمِهِ ... فجنى مَسَبَّةَ ربنا المنان⁩

He wishes, as he claims, to magnify God, but has thereby committed an insult against our Lord, the Bestower.

⁧إن الخوارج عَظَّموا معبودهم ... فيما يُخالف ظاهر القرآن⁩

The Khawārij magnified the One they worshipped in a way contrary to the apparent meaning of the Qurʾān.

⁧تبًّا لمذهبهم وسالِك دَربِهِ ... تعظيم ربي ليس بالبهتان⁩

Ruin upon their doctrine and whoever takes its path: magnifying my Lord is not through falsehood.

⁧اعرف إلهكَ قبل مخلوقاته ... ليس العذاب مراد ذي الإحسان⁩

Know your God before His creatures: punishment is not the purpose of the Possessor of beneficence.

⁧الرب يغضب في القيامة إنما ... غضبُ الرحيم يزول في الأزمان⁩

The Lord becomes angry at the Resurrection, but the anger of the Merciful passes in time.

⁧مثل الذي قد كان قبل خلائِقٍ ... تعصيهِ كان وليس بالغضبان⁩

As was the case before there were creatures to disobey Him: He was, and was not then angry.

⁧في حينِ تأخُذُ نارُهُ أعدائَهُ ... بعذابها في ذلِّةٍ وهَوَان⁩

Meanwhile His Fire takes His enemies, punishing them in humiliation and abasement.

⁧لن يُخْرجوا إذ ما لهم من شافِعٍ ... ويلٌ لِمُسْخِطِ ربه الديان⁩

They will not be brought out, for they have no intercessor; woe to him who angers his Lord, the Requiter.

⁧لا الموت يحصل للكفور وكيف ذا ... والموتُ مَذبُحٌ كذبح الضان⁩

Death will not come to the unbeliever; how could it, when death has been slaughtered like a sheep?

⁧هو مِنْيَةٌ لو كان يحصل إنما ... حَكَمَ الإله بأنه هو فاني⁩

It would be a wished-for fate if it occurred, but God has decreed that death itself should perish.^[3]

The proposed limit of abiding and ages.

⁧إن النزاعَ على الجحيم بذاتها ... فهي التي تفنى بلا نكران⁩

The question concerns Hell itself: it is that which perishes, without denial.

⁧فنقول في تخليهم أبداً بها ... ما دام فيها حامي النيران⁩

We therefore speak of their [abiding?] there forever, so long as the Fire remains hot within it.

⁧ما في الكتاب ولا بسنةِ أحمدٍ ... أن الجحيم تدوم كالرحمن⁩

Neither the Book nor the Sunnah of Aḥmad says that Hell endures as the All-Merciful does.

⁧بل فيهما تخليدهم أبداً بها ... لكن دوام النار شيء ثاني⁩

Rather, both speak of their abiding there forever; the Fire’s own continuance is a different matter.

⁧ليست تدوم ومن أدام عذابها ... فهو الذي قد جاء بالبطلان⁩

It does not endure; whoever makes its punishment everlasting has brought falsehood.

⁧يَطفا اللهيب وينتهي غضبُ الذي ... ما كان قبل الخلق بالغضبان⁩

The flame goes out, and the anger ends of Him who was not angry before creation.

⁧غَضَبُ الإلهِ هو الذي من أجلِهِ ... نارُ الجحيم تَسَعّرَتْ بهَوَان⁩

It is because of God’s anger that Hell’s Fire has been kindled in abasement.

⁧أما الخلود ففي كلام إلهنا ... ونبينا حينٌ من الأحيان⁩

As for abiding, in the speech of our God and our Prophet it is a period among periods.

⁧مهما يطول فإنه لِنهايةٍ ... حتمِيَّةٍ محدودةٍ بأوان⁩

However long it lasts, it has an inevitable end, bounded by an appointed time.

⁧وكذلك الأحقابُ فهي لمدة ... معلومة بحقائق القرآن⁩

Likewise the ages are for a duration known through the truths of the Qurʾān.

⁧إذ لا يصحُّ بان نقول إلهنا ... سيدوم أحقاباً من الأزمان⁩

For it is not correct to say that our God will endure for ages of time.

⁧لُغَةُ النبي وليس ذاك تخرصاً ... ليس الظلام كصُبحنا النوراني⁩

This is the Prophet’s language, not conjecture; darkness is not like our radiant morning.

⁧إن الذي زعم العذاب لِمُدَّةٍ ... لا تنقضي قد جاء بالنكران⁩

Whoever claims that punishment is for a duration that does not end has brought something objectionable.

⁧وَصَفَ الإلهَ بحكمةٍ وبرحمةٍ ... من غير معنىً قامَ بالرحمن⁩

He has described God with wisdom and mercy, but with no meaning of them subsisting in the All-Merciful.

⁧ولذلك الجهم الخبيث لأنه ... ظن الدوام لساكني النيران⁩

For that reason the vile Jahm, because he supposed continuance for the inhabitants of the fires,

⁧قد أنكر الوصفينِ طُرّاً إنه ... لهُوَ الظهيرُ لِدَعوة الشيطان⁩

Denied both attributes altogether; he is indeed a supporter of Satan’s call.

⁧من قال إن النار دائمةُ فما ... قَدَرَ الإله بِظَنِّهِ العدوان⁩

Whoever says that the Fire endures has not estimated God rightly, through his wrongful supposition.

⁧جعل الإله يُريد شراً مالَهُ ... من منتهىً في دائم الأزمان⁩

He has made God intend an evil with no endpoint through all times.

⁧والشر ليس إليه ﷻ ... لكنَّهُ قد قام بالإنسان⁩

Evil is not attributed to Him, majestic and exalted; rather, it subsists in the human being.

⁧أسبابه مَنعٌ لفضل إلهنا ... وهو العليم بموضِعِ الشكران⁩

Its causes are the withholding of our God’s bounty; He knows where gratitude belongs.

⁧والظلم والجهل الذي هو طبعنا ... هو موجِبٌ للذنب والعصيان⁩

The injustice and ignorance which are our nature give rise to sin and disobedience.^[4]

The furnace and acquired corruption.

⁧قل لِلَذي زَعَمَ الدّوام سؤالنا ... ما حِكْمة الرحمن في الشيطان⁩

Say to him who claims continuance: our question is, what is the All-Merciful’s wisdom in Satan?

⁧هو خالق الشيطان مَعْ أفعالِهِ ... وهو المُقدِّر مِلَّةَ الكفران⁩

He creates Satan together with his deeds, and decrees the way of unbelief.

⁧قل للذي زَعَم الدوام سُؤالنا ... ما حكمة الرحمن في النيران⁩

Say to him who claims continuance: our question is, what is the All-Merciful’s wisdom in the fires?

⁧ما حكمة التعذيب دُون نهايةٍ ... يبقى مُديماً مَعْ بَقَى الرحمن⁩

What is the wisdom of punishment without an end, remaining continually as long as the All-Merciful remains?

⁧لا يستطيع إجابةً لكنّهُ ... يأتي بِقولٍ لا يُفيد معاني⁩

He cannot answer, but offers speech which yields no meaning.

⁧إن الذي زَعَمَ البقاء مُحَيِّرٌ ... مَنْ جاءَ يطلب حِكمةَ الديان⁩

He who claims permanence leaves bewildered the person who comes seeking the Requiter’s wisdom.

⁧بلْ إِنهُ لمُنَفّرٌ وَمُصَوِّرٌ ... قَدَرَ الحكيم بصورة العُدْوان⁩

Indeed, he repels and portrays the Wise One’s decree in the form of aggression.

⁧أما الذي قال الفناء فإنه ... يُنْبيكَ عن حِكَمٍ مَعَ البرهان⁩

But he who speaks of an ending tells you of wisdoms together with proof.

⁧قبل الخلائق كان رباً كاملاً ... بصِفات مَدْحٍ ما بها نقصان⁩

Before creatures, He was a perfect Lord, with praiseworthy attributes containing no deficiency.

⁧أسماؤه الحسنى أرادَ ظهورها ... مثل الرحيمِ وَوَاسِعِ الغفران⁩

He willed the manifestation of His most beautiful names, such as the Merciful and the One vast in forgiveness.

⁧وكذلك التوابُ قابلُ توبةٍ ... من عَبْدِه إنْ تاب من عصيان⁩

And likewise the Accepter of repentance, accepting repentance from His servant if he repents of disobedience.

⁧وكذلك المنانُ مَنَّ بفضله ... تَوْفيقنا لُطْفٌ من المنّان⁩

And likewise the Bestower, bestowing His bounty: our being guided is kindness from the Bestower.

⁧لا بُدَّ من تقدير ما هُوَ مُغْضِبٌ ... لِلرب يَفْعَلُهُ بنو الإنسان⁩

What angers the Lord, done by the children of humankind, must therefore be decreed.

⁧لا بُدَّ من داعٍ لِكل ضلالةٍ ... إِبليسُ مخلوقٌ لهذا الشان⁩

There must be a caller to every error; Iblīs was created for this purpose.

⁧لَوْ شاء ربي ما عُصي أبداً وما ... أجرى مَقادِرَهُ على الكفران⁩

Had my Lord willed, He would never have been disobeyed, nor would He have made His decrees run to unbelief.

⁧قدَرٌ به الإيمان فَرْضٌ واجبٌ ... والإحتجاج به مِن البطلان⁩

Belief in the decree is an obligatory duty; using it as an excuse is falsehood.

⁧ولذَاكَ أوْجَدَ ربنا تَعْذِيبَهُ ... بالنار تخليصاً من الطغيان⁩

For that reason our Lord brought about His punishment by Fire, to free people from transgression.

⁧إذْ كل عبدٍ من عبيد إِلهنا ... قَدْ جَاءَ مفطوراً على الإيمان⁩

For every servant among the servants of our God came with an original disposition towards faith.

⁧فالشِركُ يَطْرَؤُ ليس أصْلياً بنا ... وكذلك العصيانُ لِلدّيان⁩

Association of partners arises later; it is not original to us, and likewise disobedience of the Requiter.

⁧كَسِبَ العباد ذنوبهم مِنْ كُفْرِهِمْ ... ومن الفُسوقِ تَدَنَّسوا بالرَّان⁩

Servants acquired their sins through their unbelief, and through wickedness became stained with the covering of sin.

⁧فالنارُ مثل الكِيرِ تُذْهِبُ عنهمو ... ران الذنوب ولَوْ من الكفران⁩

The Fire is like a furnace, removing from them the covering of sins, even that arising from unbelief.^[5]

Submission and the proposed final outcomes.

⁧إقرأ كلامَ الله تَعْلَمُ أنهمْ ... كُسِروا وَذُّلوا في المعاد الثاني⁩

Read Allah’s speech and you will know that they are broken and humbled at the second return.

⁧وبَدَى اعترافٌ منْهموا بَتَذَلُّلٍ ... وتضرّعٍ في داخل النيران⁩

Their acknowledgment appears, with abasement and pleading, inside the fires.

⁧فالله يفعلُ بعد ذلك ما يشا ... هذا أتى في محكم القرآن⁩

After that Allah does whatever He wills; this has come in the clear Qurʾān.

⁧إِبليسُ مَعْ جُنْدٍ لَهُ تُعْدِمْهُمو ... نار الإِلهِ كمثل سيء فاني⁩

Iblīs, with his host: God’s Fire annihilates them, like [an unclear comparison with something perishing].

⁧أوْ يُنْشِئُ الله المعَذَّبَ نَشْأةً ... يَرْحَمْهُ فيها ربنا الرحمن⁩

Or Allah brings the punished person into a new condition in which our Lord, the All-Merciful, has mercy on him.

⁧بعد الخلود مؤبَّدٌ مَعْ شِدَّةٍ ... فوق التصوُّر في الجحيم الآني⁩

After abiding made perpetual, with a severity beyond conception in the blazing Hell.

⁧هذا هو المأثور عن أسْلافنا ... وهُم الهداةُ مَعَالم الإيمان⁩

This is what is transmitted from our predecessors, the guides and landmarks of faith.

⁧والنارُ يَطْفَؤُ حرّها ولَهيبها ... قوْل الصحابة ليس بالبهتان⁩

The Fire’s heat and flame go out: that is the Companions’ statement, not falsehood.

⁧قالوه والكفار تعلم قولهم ... من غير إِسْرارٍ ولا كتمان⁩

They said it, and the unbelievers knew their statement, without secrecy or concealment.

⁧عرفوا الإله بأنه مُتَفَضِّلٌ ... والفضلُ لا كالعدْل في الميزان⁩

They knew God as One who bestows freely; bounty is not like justice in the balance.

⁧بَلْ نَزَّهوا الرحمن ﷻ ... عما يشوُب كمالَه الرّباني⁩

Rather, they declared the All-Merciful, majestic and exalted, free of what would mar His divine perfection.

⁧عرفوا عذاب النار صار لحِكْمةٍ ... لِيزُول طاري الشرك والكفران⁩

They knew that the punishment of the Fire came for a wisdom: to remove the later-arising association of partners and unbelief.

⁧عرفوا مقادير الإِله لحِكْمةٍ ... مِنْ خَلْقِهِ لِلْكُفْرِ والعصيان⁩

They knew that God’s decrees are for a wisdom, in His creating unbelief and disobedience.

⁧تعليل أفعال الإِله بِشَرْعِنا ... علْمٌ شريفٌ شامخ البنيان⁩

Explaining the purposes of God’s acts according to our revelation is a noble knowledge, lofty in structure.

⁧يا مَنْ وصَفْتَ الله وصْفاً مُوحِشاً ... أنَّ الرحيمَ كمثل ذي العدوان⁩

O you who have described Allah with an alarming description, as though the Merciful were an aggressor,

⁧أنَّ الرحيمَ مراده من خَلْقِهِ ... إِنفاذُ سُخْطٍ دائم الأزمان⁩

As though the Merciful’s purpose in His creation were to carry out wrath lasting through all times,

⁧والنار تبقى مَعْ بقاء إِلهنا ... لا تستطيع الحكم بالفرقان⁩

And the Fire should remain as long as our God remains: you cannot give judgment by the criterion.

⁧لم تَقْدِرِ الله الجليلِ بِقَدْرهِ ... كلاّ ولا وُفّقْتَ لِلعرْفان⁩

You have not estimated the Majestic God as He deserves; no, nor were you guided to understanding.

⁧إِثباتُ حكمة ربنا مُتَعَذّرٌ ... يا مَنْ زعمتَ إِدامة النيران⁩

Establishing our Lord’s wisdom is impossible, O you who claim the Fire’s continuance.

⁧إِثباتُ رحمة ربنا مُتَعَذَّرٌ ... لا تستطيع الحكمَ بالبرهان⁩

Establishing our Lord’s mercy is impossible: you cannot give judgment by proof.

⁧ما صَحَّ عن صَحْبِ النبيِّ مُقَابَلٌ ... في قَوْلِ (قُلْتُ) ولي مقالٌ ثاني⁩

What is authentic from the Prophet’s Companions is met with ‘I say,’ and ‘I have another statement.’^[6]

Finite life and the bird carrying sand.

⁧ما هكذا السلف التُقاةُ فِعالُهُم ... حَذِرُوا الخلافَ مخافة الخذلان⁩

That is not how the God-fearing predecessors acted; they guarded against departing from the truth for fear of being forsaken.

⁧بالإتباع يكون حَمدُ عواقِبٍ ... إن المخالِفَ جاء بالخسران⁩

Following brings a praiseworthy outcome; the one who departs has brought loss.

⁧عجباً لقومٍ يَدّعون ضلالنا ... من أجل حَقٍّ جاء بالقرآن⁩

How strange are people who claim we have gone astray because of a truth brought by the Qurʾān.

⁧وهو اعتقاد صحابةٍ في علمهمْ ... كل الهدى والفضلُ للرحمن⁩

It is the belief of Companions in whose knowledge is all guidance; bounty belongs to the All-Merciful.

⁧لا ينظرون كلامنا ويرونَنَا ** جئنا بأمرٍ ظاهر البهتان⁩

They do not examine our words, yet regard us as having brought manifest falsehood.

⁧ولأنهم لا يعرفون لربهم ... حِكَمٌ بخلق النار والشيطان⁩

For they do not recognize wisdoms of their Lord in His creating the Fire and Satan.

⁧فَتَهَوَّكوا في وصفِ من أفعالهُ ... حِكَمٌ تُفيد حقائق العرفان⁩

So they have spoken recklessly in describing Him whose acts contain wisdoms yielding true understanding.

⁧والموعد الديان ﷻ ... بالحق يحكمُ ليس بالبطلان⁩

The meeting is with the Requiter, majestic and exalted; He judges by truth, not falsehood.

⁧والحمد لله الذي يهدي إلى ... سُبُل الهدى ويجود بالإحسان⁩

Praise belongs to Allah, who guides to the paths of guidance and bestows beneficence.

⁧قل للذي زعم الوعيد تَشَدُّداً ... وإخافةً من غير ما برهان⁩

Say to him who claims the threat in severity and intimidation, without proof:

⁧إن الخوارجَ هكذا تَشديدهم ... ضاقت صُدُورُهُمُ بذي العصيان⁩

Such was the Khawārij’s severity; their hearts were narrow towards the disobedient.

⁧الله حَذَّر بالمعاصي نارهُ ... لكن وعيدٌ جاء مع فرقان⁩

Allah warned of His Fire for sins, but the warning came with distinctions.

⁧قطعوا بتخليدِ العصاة جهالةً ... وضلالةً فأتوا بذا الطغيان⁩

They ignorantly and wrongly declared that the disobedient would abide forever, and so committed this transgression.

⁧إن الوعيدَ لهُ ضوابِطُ فَهْمُهَا ... يُنجيكَ من زُورٍ ومن بهتان⁩

The threat has governing limits; understanding them saves you from falsehood and slander.

⁧وكذا الذي وصف الرحيم بأنه ... خلق العبادَ لِدائِم النيران⁩

So too is the one who describes the Merciful as having created servants for the everlasting fires.

⁧أضعافُ أضعافِ الذي قد عُمِّروا ... في هذه الدنيا من الأزمان⁩

Many times many times the duration they lived in this world,

⁧بل كل ثانيةٍ مَضَتْ من عُمْرِهمْ ... فجزاؤهم عنها بلا حُسبان⁩

Indeed, every second that passed of their life is repaid without reckoning:

⁧آلافُ آلافِ السنين وكلما ... تمضي أُلُوفٌ جاء ألفٌ ثاني⁩

Thousands upon thousands of years, and whenever thousands pass, another thousand comes.

⁧لو أنَّ طَيراً ينقل الرمل الذي ... في أرضنا في دائم الأحيان⁩

⁧في كل ألفٍ من سنين زماننا ... ضُرِبَتْ بألفٍ كامل الإتقان⁩

⁧يأتي فيأخذُ حَبَّةً من رَمْلها ... فَنِيَتْ رِمال السهل والقيعان⁩

⁧والنار باقيةٌ يُعذَّبُ أهلها ... بِئسَ اعتقادً جاء بالبهتان⁩

If a bird were to carry away the sand upon our earth throughout successive times, coming at every thousand of our years multiplied by a fully completed thousand to take a grain of its sand, the sands of plains and level lands would be exhausted while the Fire remained, its inhabitants punished: what an evil belief, bringing falsehood!^[7]

The claimed authorities.

⁧لا عِلَّةٌ في ذاكَ غير مَشيئةٍ ... نفذت وليس لذاك من برهان⁩

No cause in that but a will carried out, with no proof for it.

⁧هذا هو المعنى المرادُ بقولهم ... الزاعمونَ إدَامَة النيران⁩

This is the meaning intended by the words of those who claim the Fire’s continuance.

⁧وكذلك الأتباع دون بصيرةٍ ... قالوا بجهلٍ دونما إمعان⁩

And likewise followers without insight have spoken ignorantly, without careful consideration.

⁧هذا اعتقاد الزاعمين بقاءَها ... فتَرى نقيض العقل والقرآن⁩

This is the belief of those who claim its permanence; you see the opposite of reason and the Qurʾān.

⁧كيف استوى عدل الإله وفضلهُ ... لا والرحيمِ فما هُما سِيّان⁩

How could God’s justice and bounty be equal? No, by the Merciful, they are not the same.

⁧يا بئسَ وصفٌ للرحيم أتوا بهِ ... يا بئسَ تنفيرٌ من الرحمن⁩

What an evil description of the Merciful they have brought; what a way to repel people from the All-Merciful!

⁧ما رحمةٌ هي تستوي مع سُخطِهِ ... سبحان ربي مُنزل الفرقان⁩

No mercy is equal to His wrath; glory to my Lord, who sent down the criterion.

⁧يا رحمةً غَلَبَت مساخط ربنا ... مكتوبة هي عند ذي الإحسان⁩

O mercy which has overcome our Lord’s displeasure, written with the Possessor of beneficence!

⁧القائلون دَوام نار إلهنا ... هُم قد أساءُوا فهمهما بمعاني⁩

Those who say that our God’s Fire endures have misunderstood the meanings of both.

⁧وبغيرها ساءَت فهوم مُنازِعٍ ... ظنّ الصحابة ناقصي العرفان⁩

In other matters too, an opponent’s understanding has failed, supposing the Companions deficient in knowledge.

⁧وأَئمةٌ من بعدهم قد حققوا ... أقوالهم في غاية الإتقان⁩

Imams after them established their statements with the greatest precision.

⁧هذا الذي قد قُلتهُ هو مُودَعٌ ... في كُتبِ (قَيِّمنا) مع (الحَرّاني)⁩

What I have said is set down in the books of ‘our Qayyim’ and ‘the Ḥarrānī.’

⁧أخذوه من كَلِمِ الإله وخاتَمٍ ... للرُّسلِ جاء به من الديان⁩

They took it from God’s speech and from the Seal of the messengers, who brought it from the Requiter.

⁧شرحوه شرحاً وافياً ومُبَيَّناً ... في غاية الإتقان والتبيان⁩

They explained it fully and clearly, with the greatest precision and clarity.

⁧فجزى الإله هُداتنا خير الجزا ... زُلفى لَدَيهِ ومَبلَغ الرضوان⁩

May God reward our guides with the best reward: nearness to Him and the attainment of His pleasure.

⁧فبِحادي الأرواح انظر قولهم ... وصَوَاعِقٍ فيها الهدى الرباني⁩

Look at their statements in Ḥādī al-Arwāḥ, and in al-Ṣawāʿiq, containing divine guidance.

⁧وشِفا العليل به الشفاءُ لحائرٍ ... يحتارُ في أقدار ذي الإحسان⁩

And Shifāʾ al-ʿAlīl contains healing for one bewildered about the decrees of the Possessor of beneficence,

⁧يحتارُ في التعليلِ والحِكم التي ... من أجلها التعذيب بالنيران⁩

Bewildered about the purposes and wisdoms for which punishment by Fire takes place,

⁧ويحارُ أيضاً في وجود عدوّنا ... إبليس داعي الكفر والطغيان⁩

And bewildered also about the existence of our enemy Iblīs, the caller to unbelief and transgression.

⁧والشيخُ قد ظهرتْ له مخطوطةٌ ... قد أزهَقَتْ ما كان من بطلان⁩

A manuscript of the shaykh has appeared which has put an end to the former falsehood:^[8]

Hearing both sides, then the warning against sin.

⁧ذكَرَ الفناءَ وأنه بأدلةٍ ... لا بالتخرصِ دونما عرفان⁩

He mentioned the ending, and that it rests on proofs, not conjecture without knowledge.

⁧وكتابنا (الإنكارُ) جاء مُفَصِّلٌ ... ومَبَيِّنٌ في غاية التِّبيان⁩

Our book al-Inkār came with a detailed account and the utmost clarity.

⁧قُل للذين رأوا كلام خصومنا ... جعلوه مثل صحائف القرآن⁩

Say to those who saw our opponents’ words and made them like the pages of the Qurʾān:

⁧لا باطِلٌ يأتيه عند شمالِهِ ... كلا ولا يأتيهِ من أيمان⁩

No falsehood comes to them from their left, nor comes to them from their right!

⁧وكلامنا حكموا عليه مُغَيَّباً ... وكأنَّهُ ضَربٌ من الهَذيان⁩

Yet they judged our words without seeing them, as though they were a kind of delirium.

⁧أنصفتُمو لا والجليلِ وعِزِّهِ ... بل جَورُكُم هوَ ظاهرٌ بعَيَان⁩

Have you been fair? No, by the Majestic and His might; rather, your injustice is plainly visible.

⁧لا بدَّ من نَظرٍ لقولِ مُنازعٍ ... ومُنازعوهُ لِطالب البرهان⁩

The seeker of proof must examine the statement of one side and of those who oppose it.

⁧إن جاءَ خَصمٌ عينهُ مفقُوءةٌ ... قُلتُم ظُلِمتَ وحُكمنا رَباني⁩

If a claimant came with his eye put out, you would say, ‘You have been wronged, and our judgment is divine:

⁧إذ قد حَكَمنا أن خَصمَكَ مُعتَدٍ ... مُتَلَبِّسٌ بالإثم والعُدوان⁩

We have judged your opponent an aggressor, engaged in sin and aggression.’

⁧بالجهلِ قلتم لا بعدل إلهنا ... فلعلَّ ذاكَ هو الظلوم الجاني⁩

You have spoken in ignorance, not by God’s justice; perhaps that claimant was himself the wrongful aggressor.

⁧هذي الجهالة حظكم ونصيبكم ... والعدلُ مُقترِنٌ مع الإيمان⁩

This ignorance is your lot and portion; justice is joined to faith.

⁧فالله ﷻ هو حاكمٌ ... بين العباد وجلَّ عن نِسيان⁩

Allah, majestic and exalted, judges among His servants and is far above forgetting.

⁧قل للذي ركِبَ الذنوب بجُرأة ... قَرِّب لِجسمِكَ موقد النيران⁩

Say to him who boldly commits sins: bring a burning fire close to your body.

⁧أنظر أَتَصبِرُ طَرفَةً أو لحظةً ... لا تستطيع وليس في الإمكان⁩

See whether you can endure an instant or a moment; you cannot, it is not possible.

⁧سبعون ضِعفاً حرُّ نار إلهنا ... عن هذه والصَّليُ في اللُّحْمان⁩

Our God’s Fire is seventy times hotter than this, its burning in the flesh.

⁧الشمسُ تُؤلِمُ في حرارة صيفنا ... كيف الجحيم نعوذ بالرحمن⁩

The sun hurts in the heat of our summer; what then of Hell? We seek refuge with the All-Merciful.

⁧كيف الخلود بها زماناً غَيبُهُ ... عند الإلهِ نعوذ بالمنان⁩

What of abiding there for a duration whose unseen extent is with God? We seek refuge with the Bestower.

⁧لو قيل إنك بعد عُمرٍ طائلٍ ... تسعون عاماً دُونما نقصان⁩

If you were told that after a long life, ninety years with none missing,

⁧تُلقى بنارٍ ساعةً من نارنا ... أَيَكونُ عَيشكَ قبل ذلك هاني⁩

You would be cast into our fire for an hour, would your life before that be pleasant?

⁧اعمل إذاً ما شِئتَ دون تَخَوُّفٍ ... إن كنتَ تَصبِرُ في الجحيم الآني⁩

Then do whatever you wish without fear, if you can endure the blazing Hell.

⁧عِش آمناً إن كان عندك مَوثِقاً ... ممن عَصَيتَ مُؤيداً بأمان⁩

Live secure, if you have a binding assurance of safety from the One whom you disobeyed.^[9]

The closing prayer.

⁧خاف الملائكةُ الكرامُ وما عَصَوا ... كيف المفرِّط من بني الإنسان⁩

The noble angels feared though they did not disobey; what then of the negligent among humankind?

⁧صلى الإله على النبي محمدٍ ... فهو المعلِّم حكمة الديان⁩

May God bless the Prophet Muḥammad, the teacher of the Requiter’s wisdom.^[10]