Iqbal holds a significant place in the intellectual and literary history of the subcontinent, known for his philosophical discourse and poetic expressions. His works remain influential, particularly among Urdu-speaking communities, where his verses are often recited in seminars, debates, and religious gatherings. While widely regarded as a thinker who sought to address the challenges of his time and inspire collective awakening, his ideas warrant a more critical engagement to move beyond the surface-level admiration they often receive.
A pervasive perception among Iqbal’s admirers is that he was a mystic who achieved the pinnacle of spiritual enlightenment. However, this assumption is misleading. Iqbal’s relationship with Sufism was deeply ambivalent, if not outright antagonistic. He vociferously criticized established forms of Sufism, particularly those aligned with non-dualistic philosophies that emphasize unity between the self and the divine. Such approaches, in Iqbal’s view, were not only antithetical to Islamic teachings but also fostered passivity and a detachment from worldly responsibilities. Labeling these traditions as Ajami—foreign and un-Islamic—he argued that they diluted the active, dynamic spirit of Islam. While this critique aligns with his broader emphasis on action and individuality, it reflects a reductionist approach that fails to engage with the profound metaphysical insights of non-dualistic traditions, both within and beyond Islam. Moreover, this antagonism underscores Iqbal’s rejection of a significant strand of Islamic spirituality, effectively distancing him from the very tradition he is often associated with.
Yet, the focus of this critique is not Iqbal’s stance on Sufism but his widely acclaimed concept of khudi, a notion he elevated to central importance in his philosophical and poetic works. Through khudi, Iqbal sought to inspire a vision of selfhood rooted in autonomy, strength, and creative potential. He glorified it as the essence of human greatness, a force capable of transforming individuals and communities alike. However, despite the rhetorical brilliance with which he presents khudi, a glaring deficiency undermines its practical significance: the lack of a clear, actionable methodology for realizing it.
Iqbal’s theoretical exposition of khudi appears in his lecture “The Human Ego-His freedom and Immortality” within The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam. While this lecture provides a philosophical basis for understanding khudi, it remains mired in abstraction and fails to offer any concrete steps for awakening or cultivating this selfhood. His poetry, while emotionally stirring and symbolically rich, similarly evades the practical question of how one can actualize khudi. This absence is not a minor oversight; it constitutes a fundamental flaw in Iqbal’s philosophical project. Without a tangible methodology, khudi becomes little more than an inspirational idea, a poetic abstraction devoid of practical utility.
One of Iqbal’s central metaphors for khudi is the Shaheen (falcon), which he presents as the epitome of self-reliance, independence, and vision. The falcon symbolizes qualities such as soaring ambition, solitude, and an unrelenting drive for excellence. While the metaphor is evocative, it fails to address the critical question of how ordinary individuals can embody these attributes. What steps must one take to cultivate the independence of the falcon, or its sharpness of vision? Iqbal’s poetry provides no answers, leaving the reader with lofty ideals that inspire awe but offer no practical path to transformation.
Even among Iqbalian scholars, there is little substantive engagement with the methodological gap in his philosophy. Many commentators accept the Shaheen as a compelling symbol of khudi without interrogating its practical implications. If khudi is to be more than an ornamental concept, it must be accompanied by a roadmap for its realization. Otherwise, it risks being dismissed as a poetic flourish, beautiful to behold but ultimately hollow.
Some interpreters of Iqbal suggest that the realization of khudi lies in following the example of the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH). If this interpretation is accurate, then Iqbal’s insistence on abstract philosophical and poetic terminology seems unnecessary. The imperative to emulate the Prophet’s life is already a cornerstone of Islamic spirituality, requiring no additional conceptual scaffolding like khudi. If khudi is merely a restatement of this principle, it adds nothing new to Islamic thought. Conversely, if it represents a distinct philosophical insight, its lack of practical guidance becomes even more problematic.
Moreover, the broader implications of Iqbal’s philosophical vision also warrant scrutiny. By emphasizing an individualized, almost heroic selfhood, khudi risks alienating those who cannot identify with its demanding ideals. The metaphor of the falcon, for example, celebrates solitude, independence, and exceptionalism—qualities that may resonate with a select few but exclude those whose lives are shaped by communal interdependence or structural limitations. In this sense, khudi reflects an elitist vision that offers little to the majority of people, for whom selfhood is inherently relational and rooted in shared experiences.
In conclusion, while Iqbal’s khudi remains a celebrated aspect of his intellectual legacy, it is far from a flawless concept. Its rhetorical appeal cannot compensate for its practical shortcomings. The absence of a clear methodology for realizing khudi renders it an abstract ideal, captivating in its imagery but ultimately inaccessible. For all its philosophical grandeur and poetic brilliance, khudi risks being remembered as an inspiring but incomplete idea—an intellectual edifice that captivates from afar but collapses under closer scrutiny.
Subzar Ahmad works as Lecturer urdu in the department of school education Jammu & Kashmir. He can be contacted via email at [email protected]
