Hazrat Sheikh Yaqub Ali Irfani (ra) (1875-1957)
[…] Irfani at Scotland Yard
Scotland Yard houses the extensive and highly specialised Criminal Investigation Department (CID), whose reputation is renowned throughout the world. I do not intend to write about its history, its vast scope or the nature of its operations. The readers of Al Fazl may well be surprised by the title of this article and wonder why I have chosen to write about “Irfani at Scotland Yard”. However, I shall waste no time in revealing the truth: I have not, in fact, visited Scotland Yard, although I may perhaps do so at some point in the future.
A misunderstanding at Waterloo Station
The fact of the matter is that, on the evening of 20 October 1926, an English friend of ours was due to board a train from Waterloo Station to Paris. Maulvi Abdur Rahim Dard [ra] telephoned me and instructed me to be there at 9 pm sharp. Owing to a misunderstanding, however, I took him to mean the morning of 21 October 1926. Consequently, I rearranged other engagements and made arrangements to go to the station. Thus, I failed to arrive on the evening of the 20 [October], when I was actually expected.
Maulvi Dard [ra] and Maulvi Malik had seen our friend off and were waiting for me. They continued discussing, from their respective perspectives, the possible reasons for my failure to appear. Mr Dard [ra] feared that I might have met with some accident. Considerate fellow! He remained distressed throughout the night by this thought.
The following day, according to my own understanding of the arrangement, I left home at 8 in the morning and went to the station. I waited for them until 10 am. Needless to say, they were not supposed to come, nor did they appear.
A search through police stations and hospitals
Perplexed, I left the station and went to Star Street to make a telephone call. What did I find there? A frantic search was under way for Irfani, with telephone enquiries being made to police stations and hospitals. Naturally, I was astonished to discover that I was being sought at such places.
Upon making enquiries, I learnt what had happened. Early that morning, Mr Dard [ra] had tried to speak to me over the telephone. When someone was sent to my house to summon me, the maid, who usually arrived at half past nine, remarked:
“I believe Mr Irfani has not returned since last night, because his milk and newspapers are still lying there.”
I am usually the first person in the entire household to get up. That morning, as I was leaving the house, I had not touched either the newspapers or the bottle of milk. This was an unusual occurrence as far as the maid was concerned and she therefore concluded that I had not returned home during the night. Otherwise, she could see no reason why the newspapers and milk should have remained untouched.
When this report reached Star Street and Mr Dard [ra] was informed, his astonishment knew no bounds. Initially, my failure to appear at the station the previous evening had been attributed merely to the severity of the cold weather. However, my apparent absence from home now convinced him that I must have met with an accident. Consequently, communication with Scotland Yard was initiated and thus the name of “Irfani” came to be mentioned at Scotland Yard.
Mr Dard [ra] was now recounting the supposed events of the previous night and describing my physical appearance to Scotland Yard, urging the authorities to trace me through their detectives. Meanwhile, he instructed Star Street to telephone various hospitals and establish whether, God forbid, an injured Irfani had been admitted for treatment.
Irfani becomes the subject of a Scotland Yard enquiry
Upon hearing about this imaginary calamity, I immediately wished to speak to Maulana Dard [ra]. However, he was at that very moment engaged in a telephone conversation with Scotland Yard concerning me. The telephone operator at the exchange was therefore unable to interrupt the connection.
After observing that the conversation had continued for some ten minutes, I asked the operator to disconnect the call. I explained that the matter was extremely urgent: they believed, or at least suspected, that a man had gone missing, whereas that very man was present and speaking on the telephone. I therefore urged her to put me through immediately. However, she was bound by the regulations and could not comply with my request.
Eventually, the conversation with Scotland Yard came to an end. I then explained the actual sequence of events. This dispelled Mr Dard’s [ra] astonishment, although I believe he was not entirely reassured until he had secured my promise to come to the mosque immediately. When I arrived at the mosque, he received me as though I had been granted a new lease of life.
The influence of the Promised Messiah’s quwwat-e-qudsiya
The incident itself may be of little significance beyond being a rather amusing anecdote. Yet, it reveals something of the greatness of the Promised Messiah (as) and the influence of his quwwat-e-qudsiya [holy power].
What was it that had made Maulana Dard [ra] so anxious? Whatever relationship I may have with him is purely on account of the Jamaat. Yet, it was his profound sense of responsibility that had left him so distressed.
In London, such accidents are by no means uncommon. For an elderly and somewhat carefree person like myself to sustain an injury after colliding with a vehicle at a street corner, for instance (may Allah protect me), would hardly be a matter of great surprise.
But what transformed Mr Dard [ra] into someone who felt my pain as his own was the influence of the holy power of the Promised Messiah [as].
The power of sympathy and spiritual influence
Emotions and feelings are among the most powerful motivating forces in the world. The Holy Quran, being the word of Allah the Almighty, the Creator of human nature, therefore exerts a profound influence upon human emotions and feelings.
My appreciation of Mr Dard [ra] has grown considerably and my faith in the Promised Messiah (as) has likewise been greatly strengthened. This imaginary incident demonstrates the practical force of the sympathy and goodwill that we feel towards our friends. I congratulate the Jamaat on having a representative who understands his responsibilities in such a remarkable manner.
Thus, Irfani found his way into Scotland Yard and the major hospitals of London! I believe that, following this incident, even my suspicious friend will be reassured that I am not employed at Scotland Yard in London.
Scotland Yard also has a museum. I intend to write about it in a subsequent letter.
Criminology, morality and the science of crime
Criminology has developed into an extensive field of knowledge and the relationship between morality and crime has itself become a subject of considerable significance and scholarly investigation.
Our friends may recall that, during a Jalsa Salana, Hazrat Khalifatul Masih II [ra], while delivering an address on noble moral qualities, observed that, in the future, certain moral shortcomings would no longer require the services of a moral instructor; rather, those suffering from them would need to be referred to a doctor.
This philosophy is now being vindicated. The science of morality and crime has brought this reality to light. If Allah so wills, I shall discuss this subject in Mushahidaat-e-Irfani [Observations of Irfani].
The British Museum and the progress of civilisation
A visit to London’s [British] Museum reveals how this nation has advanced in meeting its civilisational needs. I do not intend to provide a detailed account of the museum here. My purpose is simply to point out that progressive nations never remain stationary, for movement is the very sign of life. If there is stagnation, it is not progress but decline.
I entered a gallery displaying the evolution of the footwear industry. In the beginning, people here wore simple, traditional sandals. Later, the demands of the climate led them to make use of wood and leather. Specimens and moulds of leather footwear were also on display. Some of their crude and awkward shapes were enough to provoke laughter. In reality, however, they reflected the nation’s enterprise and intellectual development.
Similarly, in the gallery displaying pottery, I observed styles remarkably similar to those still practised by potters in our own country. Drinking cups, water vessels and bowls were displayed in more refined forms. Yet, despite the passage of thousands of years, India has still not attained what England has managed to achieve in a comparatively short period.
The refinement, delicacy and greater practical utility of modern pottery are not its only distinguishing features. Through sustained effort, the London potter has also enhanced the value of his craft. A tea set can sometimes fetch hundreds, or even thousands, of rupees.
I have many friends, as well as other people in India, who compare English products with Indian ones. One aspect they invariably consider is their relative cost. Their argument is that if an ordinary earthen water vessel breaks, the loss amounts to merely half an anna [equal to 1/16 of a rupee]. But if a jug breaks, the loss would be at least one and a half rupees.
The value of craftsmanship and industrial development
I have heard such arguments both in India and here. To be honest, I myself have occasionally advanced similar arguments in India, though not here. However, the other side of the question has always been overlooked.
While walking through this section of London’s [British] Museum, an English visitor asked me what impression I formed of his nation upon seeing these articles of pottery.
I replied that, having observed this evolution in pottery-making, I had developed great respect for the English nation. They carefully study their civilisational needs and practical difficulties and strive to advance beyond existing limitations.
He then asked me about the decorative pottery of India. I explained that this art had indeed progressed in certain parts of the country, but its development had not gone beyond ornamentation, patterns and the application of colours. The glazed pottery of Multan, along with certain pottery produced in Hoshiarpur and Jalandhar, is exceptionally delicate and beautiful. Nevertheless, these crafts have not progressed beyond that stage.
Meanwhile, another Indian gentleman arrived and began speaking to me in Hindustani.
A conversation about Indian and English pottery
Indian gentleman: Look here, old man! These are examples of the pottery made by English craftsmen. Just listen to their boasts when they are outside!
(I did not appreciate his remark, but I continued the conversation in order to make him realise the weakness of his argument through reason.)
Irfani: My young friend, I regard these exhibits with great appreciation. Such developments foster a spirit of enterprise and progress within a nation. These people are justified in taking pride in how far they have advanced from where they once stood. Their utensils were once of a particular kind; just look at how refined and convenient they have become today!
Indian gentleman: Sir, you have no idea how much harm this refinement has caused India.
Irfani: Indeed? Pray tell me, what harm has it caused?
Indian gentleman: Previously, we could buy Indian-made utensils for one or two paisas. Now, instead, we have to pay eight or twelve annas for imported British products. If one of the former broke, the loss was merely one paisa; now, it amounts to eight annas.
Irfani: My young friend, who has prevented you from continuing to use the same Indian-made utensils? Or, why should Indians not advance their own craftsmanship and develop such refinement in their products that they no longer need to rely on imported British goods? You have considered the difference in financial loss when an article breaks, but do also consider this: if Indians were to advance their own industry, that very water vessel or jug could eventually be sold for a rupee and the money would remain within India. You neither make progress yourselves nor remain content with using Indian-made utensils. Instead, you criticise those who do make progress. This is contrary to both sound judgement and good sense. I wonder whether you acquired this particular ability while in India or only after coming here!
Naturally, the young Indian gentleman had no answer to my argument. He became embarrassed, took his leave of me and walked away.
My sole purpose in relating this incident is to emphasise that we must learn to be fair in our judgement of others and should be willing to adopt useful knowledge wherever we find it. It was precisely for this reason that Islam taught us that wisdom is the lost property of a believer.
The evolution of British civilisation
In short, the British Museum offers a fascinating display of the evolution of English civilisation and the gradual development of articles used to meet domestic needs. Whichever section one visits and whichever exhibits one examines, one cannot help but be astonished.
There is, for instance, a model of an ancient boat made simply by hollowing out a piece of wood. Models of old houses, ancient locks and chains are also on display and their designs are remarkably similar to those found in our own country. The methods used to confine prisoners and criminals, as well as the instruments of punishment and torture, are likewise reminiscent of practices in our own land.
Observing all these things makes the study of human nature extraordinarily fascinating. It is remarkable how, despite the geographical distances separating different countries and nations, such striking similarities emerge in the ways they meet their needs.
Unity and Oneness God
I have reflected upon these ideas and sentiments and spent hours deriving pleasure from this study. Such an investigation undoubtedly leads a person towards Almighty God. This harmony and uniformity cannot have come about of their own accord; rather, the Creator of this nature must be One, not many.
The longer I spent in this museum, the more an extraordinary feeling came over my heart. Involuntarily, these words would rise from within me:
جس طرف دیکھیں وہی رہ ہے تیرے دیدار کا
“Wherever way we look, every path leads to Thy countenance.”
The children’s gallery
There is a gallery devoted exclusively to children. It contains toys, including some that were once made for royalty. There are also several dolls belonging to Her Majesty Queen Victoria, along with dollhouses.
A sign above the entrance reads, “Children’s Room”. I entered and began examining the exhibits with great interest and reflection.
A few women and two or three men entered the gallery. They were as old as I was, if not older. I felt inclined to engage them in a light-hearted conversation and, with genuine astonishment, asked:
Irfani: Is this the children’s room?
Elderly Englishman: Yes, it is.
Irfani: Then are we children, or ought we to leave this room?
(My question made everyone burst into laughter.) Continuing the conversation, I remarked:
“In our country, it is said that children and the elderly are alike. By that reasoning, we too must be children; otherwise, why would we come into this room?”
My cheerful disposition greatly amused them. Laughing, they moved on, remarking that I was a unique fellow. I then left the gallery.
(Translated by Al Hakam from the original Urdu, published in the 23 November 1926 issue of Al Fazl)