How The Quran Works Leyla Ozgur Alhassen Full Chapter PDF
How The Quran Works Leyla Ozgur Alhassen Full Chapter PDF
How The Quran Works Leyla Ozgur Alhassen Full Chapter PDF
Alhassen
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FRONT MATTER
Copyright Page
https://doi.org/10.1093/oso/9780197654606.002.0003 Page iv
Published: June 2023
Subject: Islam
Collection: Oxford Scholarship Online
above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the
address above.
ISBN 9780197654637
Classi cation: LCC BP131.8 .O94 2023 (print) | LCC BP131.8 (ebook) |
DDC 297.1/224045—dc23/eng/20230119
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197654606.001.0001
Figures
Tables
Acknowledgments
Published: June 2023
Subject: Islam
Collection: Oxford Scholarship Online
I am grateful to Cynthia Read and Theo Calderara for their guidance on this projec
and Suganya Elango for seeing me through the publication process. I am sincerely
feedback of the reviewers of the manuscript; they helped make this a better book.
Many thanks to Yasmin Amin, Rose Aslan, Michael Cooperson, Emad Hamdeh, No
Hirschkind for reading and giving feedback on earlier versions of some parts of th
Arielle Tonkin for friendship and great conversation. Many thanks to my family an
p. x support and love.
1
Introduction
Why Repetition?
How the Qur’ān Works. Leyla Ozgur Alhassen, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197654606.003.0001
2 How the Qur’ān Works
still a sad affair (8:42). The rejection of a messenger and the breakdown of a
community is a cause for displacement in the subtext—the messenger is phys-
ically and socially displaced. In addition, analysis of repetition lends insight
into Qur’ānic structure, as we will see throughout the book.
In this book, I am looking at what kinds of repetition occur in Qur’ānic
stories and what purposes they serve. This book is a rhetorical, semantic, and
narratological analysis of the Qur’ān. Most of the chapters of the book ex-
amine multiple Qur’ānic chapters, which are comparative within the Qur’ān.
While my work does not compare Qur’ānic stories to biblical stories or Arabic
literature other than tafsīr, it takes inspiration from Robert Alter’s The Art of
Biblical Narrative and from Sandra Naddaff ’s Arabesque: Narrative Structure
and the Aesthetics of Repetition in the 1001 Nights, in their methods of analysis.
Both lend insight into repetition, how it is used, and what it does for a text.
This book is an exploration of repetition in Qur’ānic stories and how repe-
tition forges connections. There are a number of ways to look at prophecy as
repetition in regards to the Qur’ān: (1) What happened in history is repeated
in text. (2) Repeated iterations of one prophet’s story occur throughout the
Qur’ān. Stories can be repeated in multiple iterations in different locations
and lengths in the Qur’ān. The discourse—the narrative style—can be re-
peated. (3) Multiple messengers repeat parallel missions—the plot can be
similar in stories of different prophets and people. (4) The Qur’ān encourages
and rewards multiple readings, which is a repetition for the reader; this brings
the reader into the world of the text. Taking inspiration from Sandra Naddaff,
I argue that God in the Qur’ān is at the center of the story and the discourse,
and with repeated iterations we move in time: the audience has a role in the
repetition, through the multiple readings in which the reader may engage.
This book thus explores Qur’ānic narrative and its intersections with repeti-
tion, time, theology, and the text and its readers.
Throughout this book, I use an intratextual approach, looking at relevant
Qur’ānic verses on the topic at hand.1 In the tafsīr tradition, there is a concept
that the Qur’ān explains the Qur’ān (al-Qur’ān yufassir ba‘ḍuhu ba‘ḍan), and
that some verses can best be understood in light of other verses.2 A number
of scholars, modern and classical, find an intratextual approach useful when
looking at the Qur’ānic verses.3 As I am interested in a literary approach,
extra-Qur’anic and comparative sources are less important for this study.4
In the past two decades, there has been a major proliferation of books in
Qur’ānic studies. However, analysis of Qur’ānic stories is often source critical,
comparative, focused on tafsīr, or looks at the Qur’ān in its historical devel-
opment. My book takes a different approach to Qur’ānic stories. It also varies
from my previous book, Qur’ānic Stories: God, Revelation and the Audience.
Introduction 3
Qur’ānic Stories focuses on one sūra per chapter and looks more comprehen-
sively at narratological and rhetorical techniques as relevant to each sūra. This
book compares different Qur’ānic stories across chapters and revolves around
the specific technique of repetition, focusing on different types of repetition
throughout the book.
I will argue that repetition is a narrative technique used in the Qur’ān to
make theological points. What do I mean by theological points? These are the
beliefs that the Qur’ān tries to instill in its audience. This answer reveals a rhe-
torical approach: the Qur’ān tries to make a change in the audience—in the
way the audience thinks and acts. Thus, this book looks at the interactions
between the audience, God, and the Qur’ān.
But how can one determine theological points from the Qur’ān? Shahab
Ahmed’s What Is Islam? The Importance of Being Islamic discusses the diverse
array of opinions, cultures, behaviors, art, and literature that can be labeled as
Islamic.5 There are, of course, differences between Islam, Islamic, Muslims,
the Qur’ān, and Qur’ānic. This question echoes debates in literary theory
about whether the text presents meanings or if the reader brings meanings to
the text. In the case of the Qur’ān and Muslims, of course people interpret it
in different ways; they interpret it with their understanding, preferences and
biases, and they choose to believe or follow or not. And then they can still con-
sider themselves Muslims or not. I am not saying definitively what the Qur’ān
says or what its intentions are. Rather, I am noticing patterns in the text and
giving plausible explanations for what they are doing and what ideas they may
be furthering. This is an interactive process of meaning making. Someone else
can disagree and give a different set of reasoning, but their arguments should
look comprehensively at the Qur’ān.
How can one discuss, in a sophisticated manner, what Qur’ānic theological
statements or beliefs are? One way is via a comprehensive, narratological anal-
ysis, through which we see that the Qur’ān uses various techniques to scaffold
these beliefs. For example, Ibrāhīm is repeatedly portrayed as a father or son,
trying to convince others to believe in God, eventually leaving his father when
he sees that his efforts are futile. In one of the sūras where his story is presented
(Sūrat Maryam), the structure of the story sequence is an inverted triangle, in
which family becomes less prominent and the relationship with God becomes
foremost. So the narrative portrayal and the structure of the sūra promote a
particular belief: if one has to choose between one’s relationship with God or
family, one should choose God.6 How do we know that the Qur’ān is actually
trying to make these theological points? (1) We can notice them through a va-
riety of narrative techniques and a variety of levels of repetition; and (2) they
are also stated in non-narrative verses.
4 How the Qur’ān Works
Another way to think about repetition in the Qur’ān is through echo and
resonance. This book explores the place of echo in the Qur’ān, comes to a
theory of echo in the Qur’ān, and argues that echo has a place in Qur’ānic aes-
thetic values and in the way it makes and develops arguments. How do echoes
advance the semantic, literary, and theological goals of the text? For example,
when we think about refrains in the Qur’ān, we will see how refrains lend new
meanings to a sūra. There can be the same refrain, but different characters and
scenes, and the refrain brings whatever one learns from the previous story to
the new story. In addition, sometimes the refrain itself may change, which
also happens in the Qur’ān, then one can examine how and why the refrain
changes. Here, we see that refrains and echoes make connections.
Echoes and resonance are more obvious with a voiced recitation. Thus, one
can think about orality in relation to repetition, and there are at least three
ways to think about orality and the Qur’ān. One is exploring the effects of
sound on meaning, as Michael Sells does.7 One can also see the Qur’ān as a
form of literature that has an oral, performative aspect. Here, we can turn to
Navid Kermani. Kermani writes about the recited Qur’ān and the “recitative
character of the Qur’ān,” which includes repetition and refrain,8 both of which
I analyze in this book. Orality may be a cause for repetition in the Qur’ān, and
orality draws attention to repetition. To think about orality and the Qur’ān,
one can also turn to Walter Ong’s Orality and Literacy: The Technologizing of
the Word. Ong points out that “many of the contrasts often made between
‘western’ and other views seem reducible to contrasts between deeply interi-
orized literacy and more or less residually oral states of consciousness.”9 He
lists features common to oral literacy, which one can compare to the Qur’ān.10
What is implied in the discussion of orality, the Qur’ān and its interpretation,
is that scholarship that approaches the text as written alone and not oral is
limited.
This book begins its analysis by looking at repetition on a large scale—
structure—and moves to a small scale—root letters. It then looks at two sūras
that have series of stories of prophets, and refrains, and analyzes them and
compares them with each other.
and parallels. I evaluate how these thematic parallels and reversals contribute
to our understanding of the stories in question and their relationship to each
other. For example, one way I examine reversals and parallels is through the
semantic connections in the actions of throwing someone into something.
We find this with the roots q-dh-f and l-q-y in the stories of Mūsā and his
mother: Mūsā being thrown onto the riverbank (l-q-y), Mūsā delivering his
message and people being so convinced of it that they are thrown in prostra-
tion (l-q-y), al-Sāmirī throwing out his idea to make the golden calf (l-q-y,
20:87), Yūsuf ’s brothers describing their action as throwing (l-q-y) Yūsuf into
the depths of a well (12:10), and Yūsuf later telling someone to throw his shirt
onto his father’s face to recover his sight (l-q-y, 12:93). I analyze how these
stories relate to and play off of each other, as well as other reversals, triangles,
and parallels in Qur’ānic stories. I examine the different stories with a broad
stroke to see how they interact with each other and to see the structural
patterns within them.
Next, we have repetition on the level of the story, in the story of Mūsā in the
Qur’ān. This chapter engages with Sandra Naddaff ’s discussions of narrative
repetition in the 1001 Nights and Robert Alter’s The Art of Biblical Narrative.
The story of the life of Mūsā is the most frequently mentioned story in the
Qur’ān, with arguably forty-two iterations. In this chapter, the Qur’ānic stories
about Mūsā in the Qur’ān are discussed and compared with each other. For
example, through an analysis of focalization in the stories of Mūsā, we see
that repetition in the Qur’ān is intimately connected to the ideas of power,
storytelling, the right to tell a story or history, and truth. The chapter lends
insight into Qur’ānic storytelling style: Qur’ānic stories can be told at length
or in short pieces, chronologically all at once, or not. Focalization can be a
tool for character development. History and dialogues can be told in different
ways at different times.
Next, I take up the idea of the portrayal of time in Qur’ānic stories, spe-
cifically looking at time leaps in various iterations of scenes, working with
narratological discussions of the narrative portrayal of time. The portrayal
6 How the Qur’ān Works
of time in Qur’ānic stories is an area ripe for exploration. While there exists
scholarship on the portrayal of time in the Qur’ān, little uses narratolog-
ical theories of time to explore and explicate on the portrayal of time in the
stories. The chapter compares the portrayal of time in the Qur’ānic story of
Mūsā and Hārūn in particular, and it uses a narratological lens to analyze
a few iterations of the stories, in which we see Hārūn gradually appearing
in a scene, as well as Mūsā and Hārūn leaping in time and space to have a
dialogue with Fir‘awn. Through the exploration of the portrayal of time in
this story, we see not just a movement in time but also a conversation about
a time and place, and then a leap into that time and space. We see what
purpose time leaps serve the reader, and that they are reflected in the story-
telling, are not just didactic, but are performative. I argue that the narrator
of the Qur’ān uses the narrative to shape the perceptions and norms of the
reader about time and space and to thereby reinforce theological beliefs that
the Qur’ān expresses in its metanarrative.
The fifth chapter moves to repetition on a small scale, in echoing words and
phrases in the Qur’ān, focusing on fasting and feasting throughout the Qur’ān.
I propose that the Qur’ānic narrative portrayal of fasting and feasting can be
seen as exchange encounters in which something is given and something is
received. This analysis develops to demonstrate that these stories are united
both thematically and stylistically, that the exchange encounters connect with
the idea of asking for things from God, and that the manner of asking reflects
one’s belief. Through these stories, we see that not only do Qur’ānic narratives
exist, but also they are woven together, with metanarrative, to reinforce theo-
logical beliefs.
Chapter 6 is paired with the next, this one focusing on Sūrat al-Shu‘arā’ and
the next on Sūrat al-Qamar and then a comparison of the two sūras. Sūrat
al-Shu‘arā’ is made up of an introduction, conclusion, and seven stories of
Introduction 7
prophets. The chapter analyzes repetition in the sūra, in the series of stories,
which lends insight into its structure, in the root letters, and in the sūra’s
themes. I also analyze root letters within the series of stories and refrains. This
analysis lends insight into underlying themes in the stories. For example, in
this sūra, we see a theme of power, privilege, and inspiration. Throughout the
series of stories, there is the idea of lying and calling others liars, and there is
the breakdown of communication. Connected to this theme, there is a con-
trast between Fir‘awn as a father figure or enslaver and Ibrāhīm’s father, which
then pivots from Ibrāhīm’s father to God. We see through the analysis in this
chapter how repetition occurs at various levels of scale throughout Sūrat al-
Shu‘arā’ and how it is used to contrast and complicate various ideas.
The conclusion reviews the various narratological features that the book ana-
lyzed and connects them to the issues of repetition and Qur’ānic theology. It
also looks at underlying themes discussed throughout the book, and then it
discusses venues for further research inspired by the book’s analysis.
8 How the Qur’ān Works
Appendices
The appendices include comprehensive tables of all the stories about Mūsā in
the Qur’ān: the four stories with forty-two iterations that are the basis of my
analysis in Chapter 3, as well as tables useful in the analysis of Sūrat al-Shu‘arā’
and Sūrat al-Qamar.
This book takes a journey through the Qur’ān, often expansive, moving
from one verse to another, one story to another, focusing on narratological
elements while conducting a fine reading of Qur’ānic material to under-
stand how these techniques enhance a theological agenda. It helps us better
understand particular Qur’ānic stories, Qur’ānic literary style, and Qur’ānic
theology.
2
Repetition in Structure
Parallels, Reversals, and Triangles
I. Introduction
How the Qur’ān Works. Leyla Ozgur Alhassen, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197654606.003.0002
10 How the Qur’ān Works
the Qur’ān. Through the exclusion of a parallel story in Sūrat Maryam, we will
see that repetition is a deliberate literary technique that serves to make theo-
logical points.
As far as each story is concerned, the use of repetition on a large scale
encourages the audience to compare characters that one may not have thought
to compare. For example, we will see a comparison between Ibrāhīm, Mūsā’s
mother, and Yūsuf ’s brothers below. Repetition or its opposite, reversals, bring
out themes in the stories. Through a focus on repetition, we see the themes of
theft and agency in Sūrat Yūsuf. Parallels, swerves, and reversals also show
how Qur’ānic sūras interact with each other. We will see, through parallels,
swerves, and reversals, connections made between seven sūras. The patterns
of parallels, swerves, reversals, and triangles serve to organize information
and stories in the Qur’ān, directing the audience to make comparisons be-
tween characters and stories while bringing out certain themes and theolog-
ical points.
We can start with the theme of parents and children in the structural pattern
of parallels and swerves. I discuss the structure of the story of Maryam and
Zakariyyā in Sūrat Maryam in detail elsewhere.5 Essentially, there is a series
of stories, and in the first one, Zakariyyā prays to have a child and is told that
he will have one (19:3–6). With many parallel words, in the second section,
Maryam is told she will have a child, even though she did not ask to have one.
So here is a parallel, a parent being told they will have a child, and a variation
in that one parent asks to have a child and the other does not. Maryam is told
not to speak, and her baby speaks instead (19:30-3). Here, the child takes on
a more prominent role than in Zakariyyā’s story, and this is a turning point
in the series of stories. One detail that will come up later is that Zakariyyā
describes the child as a “successor,” walī (19:5), and he says he wants the child
to inherit from him and the family of Ya‘qūb, yarithunī (19:6).6
As we continue reading Sūrat Maryam, there is a reversal in the story of
Ibrāhīm (19:41–50):
19:42 He said to his father, “Father, why do you worship something that can neither
hear nor see nor benefit you in any way?
43 Father, knowledge that has not reached you has come to me, so follow me: I
will guide you to an even path.
Repetition in Structure 11
44 Father, do not worship Satan—Satan has rebelled against the Lord of Mercy.
45 Father, I fear that a punishment from the Lord of Mercy may afflict you and
that you may become Satan’s companion [in Hell].”
51:28 beginning to be afraid of them, but they said, “Do not be afraid.” They gave
him good news of a son who would be gifted with knowledge [fa-awjasa minhum
khīfatan qālū lā takhaf wa-bashsharūhu bi-ghulāmin ‘alīm].
29 His wife then entered with a loud cry, struck her face, and said, “A barren
old woman [fa-aqbalati imra’atuhu fī ṣarratin faṣakkat wajhahā wa-qālat ‘ajūzun
‘aqīm]?”
30 but they said, “It will be so. This is what your Lord said, and He is the One who
has the knowledge to decide [qālū kadhāliki qāla rabbuki innahu huwa al-ḥakīmu
al-‘alīm].”
First, we can notice that there are three or more angels and that they are
described as guests. Ibrāhīm offers them food; Zakariyyā and Maryam do
12 How the Qur’ān Works
not offer food to their mysterious guests (I discuss this further in Chapter 5).
Ibrāhīm and his wife do not ask God for a child, but the angels tell them they
will have one. The child is described with the root b-sh-r, as are the children
of Zakariyyā (3:39 and 19:7) and Maryam (3:45). The b-sh-r root is used re-
peatedly in the Qur’ān for Ibrāhīm’s children (11:71, 15:53, 15:54 twice,
15:55, 37:101, 37:112, and 51:28 above). The word ghulām is used for the chil-
dren of Ibrāhīm (15:53, 37:101, and 51:28 above), Zakariyyā (3:40, 19:7, and
19:8), and Maryam (19:19 and 19:20). And the biggest parallel is in the verse
51:30: “but they said, ‘It will be so. This is what your Lord said, and He is the
One who has the knowledge to decide,’ ” qālū kadhāliki qāla rabbuki innahu
huwa al-ḥakīmu al-‘alīm. This echoes what the messenger tells Maryam,
“and he said, ‘This is what your Lord said: “It is easy for Me—We shall make
him a sign to all people, a blessing from Us,” ’ ” qāla kadhāliki qāla rabbuki
huwa ‘alayya hayyinun wa-li-naj‘alahu āyatan li-l-nāsi wa-raḥmatan minnā
wa-kāna amran maqḍiyya (19:21). The phrase in the beginning is almost the
exact same, with a difference in the plural versus the singular speaker: ‘qālū
kadhāliki qāla rabbuki’ (51:30) and ‘qāla kadhāliki qāla rabbuki’ (19:21). The
response to Zakariyyā is also very similar (19:9). Thematically, Zakariyyā and
his wife and Ibrāhīm and his wife are parallels in that they are to have children
in their old age and are surprised about it. Zakariyyā and Ibrāhīm’s wife ex-
plicitly express this surprise (19:8 and 51:29).
Despite the parallels in the main plot (someone surprisingly having a
child), and the semantic echoes, the story of Ibrāhīm having a child is missing
from Sūrat Maryam. I am arguing that since repetition serves a purpose in
Qur’ānic stories, the story of Ibrāhīm having an unexpected child is not in
Sūrat Maryam, despite the parallels, because it would serve little purpose
there. In other words, Sūrat Maryam includes stories of miraculous births
of children, but it does not include Ibrāhīm’s, probably because it would be
simply repetitive and too similar to Zakariyyā’s and Maryam’s stories. Instead,
Sūrat Maryam has the reversal in which Ibrāhīm takes on the role of father in
his relationship with his father. This reversal allows the sūra to move from a
focus on family to a focus on God, as I discuss elsewhere.8 We see, then, that
repetition is not simply for the sake of repetition or the collection of know-
ledge. It has other purposes. And repetition here pivots to a reversal to make a
theological point.
We can further develop our understanding of the portrayal of Ibrāhīm
in another verse in the Qur’ān. First, God somehow tests Ibrāhīm, Ibrāhīm
passes the test, and earns a special epithet and perhaps ranking from God.
Ibrāhīm then asks God about his children:
Repetition in Structure 13
2:124 When Abraham’s Lord tested him with certain commandments, which he ful-
filled, He said, “I will make you a leader of people.” Abraham asked, “And will You
make leaders from my descendants too?” God answered, “My pledge does not hold
for those who do evil.”
It is striking that Ibrāhīm asks about his children after receiving such spe-
cial words from God, that God will make him a leader for people, “lil-nāsi
imāman.” There is no other story in the Qur’ān in which God designates one
person as an imām. Elsewhere, this word is used to describe God’s revela-
tion (11:17 and 46:12), in the plural (9:12, 21:73, 28:5, 28:41, and 32:24), as
a record (17:71 and 36:12), as something that people pray to be (25:74), and
as a highway (15:79), but not to refer to a particular individual appointed
by God. In the context of Ibrāhīm representing the pulls between a person
and God versus a person and family, this makes sense.9 Here he is given a
special place and title with God, but he is still concerned about his progeny.
And this time his concern is his children—the generation forward rather
than his father. Here is, again, the pattern of Ibrāhīm embodying the clashes
between faith and family. In terms of Qur’ānic parallels and reversals, this is
parallel to the story of Zakariyyā and his wanting to pass something on to
his child.
A resolution to the pulls between faith and family in the story of Ibrāhīm
occurs in Sūrat al-Baqara. Here, Ibrāhīm builds the Ka‘ba with his son and
then is remembered by his descendants.
2:127 As Abraham and Ishmael built up the foundations of the House [they prayed],
“Our Lord, accept [this] from us. You are the All Hearing, the All Knowing.
128 Our Lord, make us devoted to You; make our descendants into a community
devoted to You. Show us how to worship and accept our repentance, for You are the
Ever Relenting, the Most Merciful.
129 Our Lord, make a messenger of their own rise up from among them, to re-
cite Your revelations to them, teach them the Scripture and wisdom, and purify
them: You have the power to decide.”
130 Who but a fool would forsake the religion of Abraham? We have chosen him
in this world and he will rank among the righteous in the Hereafter.
131 His Lord said to him, “Devote yourself to Me.” Abraham replied, “I devote my-
self to the Lord of all worlds,”
132 and commanded his sons to do the same, as did Jacob: “My sons, God has
chosen [your] religion for you, so make sure you devote yourselves to Him, to your
dying moment.”
14 How the Qur’ān Works
133 Were you [Jews] there to see when death came upon Jacob? When he said
to his sons, “What will you worship after I am gone?” they replied, “We shall wor-
ship your God and the God of your fathers, Abraham, Ishmael, and Isaac, one single
God: we devote ourselves to Him.”
Related to the theme of parents and children, we can turn to parallels and
reversals in stories of family members doing something counterintuitive
to each other. When Mūsā is a baby, his mother fears that Fir‘awn and his
people will have him killed because they were killing the sons of Banī Isrā’īl.
God inspires Mūsā’s mother with a surprising way to save him: “We inspired
[awḥaynā] Moses’ mother, saying, ‘Suckle him, and then, when you fear for
his safety, put him in the river: do not be afraid, and do not grieve, for We shall
return him to you and make him a messenger’ ” (28:7). This is also in Sūrat
Ṭaha, when God tells Mūsā:
Twice, the Qur’ān uses the same word to say that God inspired Mūsā’s
mother, awḥaynā, and there is some discussion in commentary on how
God inspires her.10 Also noteworthy is that the verb qadhafa describes how
the mother should put the baby in the box and then in the river. M. A.
S. Abdel Haleem translates qadhafa gently, as “put” and “place,” but the
word can be used for casting or throwing stones, arrows, or speech. So, a
nursing mother is inspired by God, when she fears for her child’s life, to
throw him in a box and then throw him into a river, and an enemy of his
and of God’s will take the baby (20:39), and she follows these commands.
This is counterintuitive.
A parallel, counterintuitive story is when Ibrāhīm sees in a dream that he
should sacrifice his son (37:83–113). This story is a reversal of the story of
Ibrāhīm and his father (19:41–49), which in turn is a reversal of the stories
of Zakariyyā and Maryam (19:2–40), as discussed above. This time, Ibrāhīm,
in the role of father, tells his son that he has knowledge from God, and the
son believes him and tells him to do what he was commanded to do. In
both stories, a father threatens a son with violence, but here, the son com-
plies because of a shared respect and faith. Through the Qur’ānic narrative
style, namely repetition in reversals and parallels, the stories interact across
chapters and generations.11
16 How the Qur’ān Works
The stories of Mūsā’s mother and Ibrāhīm are parallels to each other: both
are asked by God to do something counterintuitive—to put their child’s life
in danger—and they do so. The similarity in the parallels in the plots draws
the audience to compare two stories with different characters and in different
sūras with each other. The stories address the conflicts between faith and
family discussed above and assert that faith in God should take priority over
family. In the end, however, probably because of God’s mercy, the parents do
not have to give up their children permanently and are reunited with them.
So, if one must make a decision, one should choose faith in God over family,
but God is so merciful that God reunites families.
While making this theological point, these parallels also draw comparison,
interestingly, between Mūsā’s mother and Ibrāhīm. To further the compar-
ison, this time with contrast, we can note that Mūsā’s mother receives waḥy
about the actions she should take, whereas Ibrāhīm sees it in a dream (37:102).
Because Mūsā’s mother is described as receiving waḥy, some consider her a
prophet.12 However, it is worth noting that the root w-ḥ-y is used in the Qur’ān
for beings not traditionally considered prophets, such as the disciples of ‘Īsā
(5:111), angels (8:12), the earth (99:5), the skies (41:12), and bees (16:68). The
fact that Mūsā’s mother is a parallel to Ibrāhīm would certainly strengthen the
argument that she is a prophet. Her being a prophet would also make a par-
allel in terms of the parent and child in each story being a prophet. Of course,
one could argue that she is not a prophet, and this element is instead a source
of contrast between the stories. Indeed, we can contrast the age of the children
in the stories. Ibrāhīm’s son is old enough to understand and respond to his
father’s words, agreeing that his father should sacrifice him (37:102), while
Mūsā is a nursing baby that can be placed in a box in water (20:38–39).
We have now seen that Ibrāhīm has a role as a child and a parent in Qur’ānic
stories, and so does Maryam. Ibrāhīm clashes with his father on faith, whereas
Maryam is a fulfillment or perhaps even a pinnacle of her mother’s faith
(3:35–36). Probably as a result of her mother’s faith and prayer to God (3:35–
36), Maryam is blessed by God (3:37 and 3:42) and blessed above the women
of the world (3:42). In contrast, Ibrāhīm is threatened by his father (19:46).
Moving back to Ibrāhīm’s sacrifice, it is striking that he sees a dream, and
the story of Yūsuf also begins with a dream. However, the language used to de-
scribe them is different. In Sūrat Yūsuf, it says:
12:4 Joseph said to his father, “Father, I dreamed of eleven stars and the sun and
the moon: I saw them all bow down before me,”
5 and he replied, “My son, tell your brothers nothing of this dream, or they may
plot to harm you––Satan is man’s sworn enemy.”
Repetition in Structure 17
Despite the translation, Yūsuf says ra’aytu, “I saw.” And his father refers to
it as “ru’yāka,” your vision or, most literally, the thing you saw. There are, of
course, other dreams in Sūrat Yūsuf: those of the prisoners (12:36) and the
king (12:43), all described with the same root, r-’-y. The exception is the king’s
advisers refer to them as aḥlām, “dreams” (12:44). Ibrāhīm tells his son innī
arā fī al-manām, “I saw in a dream” (37:102). Yūsuf ’s brothers do indeed plot
against him (12:5)—the Qur’ān does not say if they somehow heard or over-
heard the dream—and then throw him in a well (12:8–15). There is a contrast
in that Ibrāhīm saw the dream and is to commit the sacrifice, whereas Yūsuf
saw the dream and is to be sacrificed.
This brings us to a surprising reversal on these stories in the Qur’ān, in the
story of Yūsuf ’s brothers throwing him into a well. Here, also, family members
do something surprising and counterintuitive to another family member.
An additional link is that God says that he inspired Yūsuf when he is in the
well, awḥaynā (12:15). In contrast, the brothers were inspired by their souls,
sawwalat lakum anfusukum amran (12:18 and 12:83) or by Shayṭān, nazagha
al-shayṭān (12:100). Here, we see a contrast in sources of inspiration. In fact,
we see this theme throughout Sūrat Yūsuf: What makes people act the way
they do? Where does inspiration come from?
There are some important semantic connections in the actions of throwing
someone into something. Mūsā’s mother’s action is described with the root
q-dh-f (20:39) and l-q-y (28:7). The root l-q-y is present throughout Sūrat
Ṭaha.13 After Mūsā’s mother casts him into a box (q-dh-f) and casts the box
into the river (q-dh-f), “the river will throw [l-q-y] it onto the bank” (20:39).14
Later, the magicians are thrown in prostration (l-q-y) after being convinced of
the truth of Mūsā’s mission and the existence of God (20:70). There is a move-
ment and culmination from Mūsā being thrown onto the riverbank (l-q-y)
to being found and raised in Fir‘awn’s house, to Mūsā delivering his message
and people being so convinced of it that they are thrown in prostration (l-q-y).
This is contrasted with al-Sāmirī throwing out his idea to make the golden calf
(l-q-y, 20:87).15 Meanwhile, one of Yūsuf ’s brothers describes their action as
throwing (l-q-y) Yūsuf into the depths of a well (12:10), then God describes
it with j-‘-l (12:15). Later in the story, Yūsuf tells someone to throw (l-q-y)
his shirt onto his father’s face to recover his sight (12:93), the person throws
the shirt (l-q-y) and Ya‘qūb is able to see again (12:96). So here, then, is an-
other reversal, highlighted with a semantic echo: the brothers throwing Yūsuf
into the well (12:10), and the pain it causes their father finds its healing in the
throwing of Yūsuf ’s shirt over Ya‘qūb’s face (12:93 and 12:96).
The brothers taking Yūsuf looks like theft, and in Yūsuf ’s story, the idea
of theft has at least three reversals. First, there is the theft in which Yūsuf ’s
18 How the Qur’ān Works
brothers steal him from their parents (12:8–18). They do have permission to
take him, but they do not return him to their father, and they lie about what
befell him. Then there is the accusation that the brothers are thieves (12:70),
then specifically that the youngest brother stole the king’s cup (12:70–76),
and the brothers say that the youngest brother had a brother who also stole
(12:77),16 in verses that explicitly use language of theft. In fact, Yūsuf frames
his brother in order to keep his brother with him. When the other brothers
ask him to keep one of them instead of the youngest, Yūsuf says he does not
want to steal a brother who did not steal in the first place (12:79). But none of
his brothers stole the cup. However, ironically, they did steal Yūsuf, and so,
they are, indeed, sāriqūn (12:70). The parallels and contrasts here make one
wonder why Yūsuf framing his brother and “stealing” him are morally justi-
fied, but his brothers stealing him is not. First, though, one can mention that
Yūsuf tells his younger brother who he is beforehand, so perhaps, in this way,
he prepares him for what is to come (12:69). Yūsuf ’s actions with the cup are
followed by God describing them as God’s plotting (12:76). It would seem,
then, that the key is the source of inspiration, the intention, or the inherent
goodness in it. We can also add that everything belongs to God (e.g., 2:107
and 3:189), so if God takes something, it is not theft. Yūsuf ’s actions with the
cup lead to the brothers’ repentance (12:91) and reunite the family with un-
derstanding and an explicit mention of no blame (12:92). If we broaden theft
to the idea of taking something that one does not have a right to, we can add
the people who take Yūsuf from the well and sell him (12:19–20), the purchase
of Yūsuf (12:21), the wife’s attempt to seduce Yūsuf (12:23–29), and Yūsuf
asking for his brother to be brought to him (12:59–66).
Noticing this pattern of repetition through parallels and swerves helps re-
solve some issues of interpretation in Sūrat Yūsuf. When Yūsuf is in prison, he
correctly interprets the king’s dream, and the king calls for Yūsuf to be brought
to him (12:50). Yūsuf sends the messenger back and tells him to ask the king to
investigate the matter of the women of the city (12:50). So, Yūsuf will not leave
prison unless it is on his terms. The king investigates, finds Yūsuf innocent,
and sends for him again. The phrase is the exact same both times: “wa-qāla
al-maliku i’tūnī bih,” “The king said, ‘Bring him to me’ ” (12:50 and 12:54).
The second time, Yūsuf agrees and says what position he wants to be placed
in: “Joseph said, ‘Put me in charge of the nation’s storehouses: I shall manage
them prudently and carefully’ ” (12:55). So, Yūsuf exerts his agency in both of
these interactions. This completely counters the previous cases of Yūsuf being
stolen from his family, from the well, and, even, from himself.
Some commentators, readers, and listeners might express surprise that
Yūsuf does not seem eager to leave prison and instead asks for his innocence
Repetition in Structure 19
to be proven first (12:50). For example, al-Ṭabarī gives two ḥadīth to explain
this verse: the first is that Prophet Muḥammad said that Yūsuf had a lot of pa-
tience; if someone was going to let me out of the prison, I would have gotten
out of there quickly. The second ḥadīth adds that Prophet Muḥammad said he
would not have asked to be absolved of guilt.17 So here, Prophet Muḥammad,
himself, is expressing surprise at Yūsuf ’s behavior. The analysis of patterns
resolves this issue of interpretation. Yūsuf asking for his case to be investigated
is a show of his agency over himself—he will leave prison when and under
the conditions that he stipulates. Additionally, some commentators probably
find it unpalatable that Yūsuf asks for a position from a person (12:55), so
they explain that this is not out of a desire for his own self,18 rather it is to
spread God’s rules, truth and justice, and because he knows that other people
cannot do what he can do.19 Yūsuf ’s story has a pattern of people taking things
that they have no right to, and this theme is resolved in Yūsuf insisting upon
his own agency. Not only is Yūsuf unwilling to leave prison unless his inno-
cence is first acknowledged, but he is also going to choose the position of priv-
ilege that he will be granted. So, the commentator’s confusion or surprise are
explained through the analysis of parallels and reversals, which brings to light
the themes of theft and agency. It is also helpful to rewind the story to revisit
how Yūsuf ends up in prison in the first place. He prays to God to put him in
prison (12:33), and the people put him in prison after seeing signs (12:35).20
So he is again choosing his path. Perhaps this is what allows him to forgive
his brothers later in the story—he chooses where to be and when to be there,
so he asserts his agency, after having lost it as a child. Through the analysis of
the patterns of repetition, we have found that theft and agency are themes in
Sūrat Yūsuf.
Going back to the three stories in question (Mūsā’s mother, Ibrāhīm, and
Yūsuf and his brothers), the similarities in all of them is in family members
doing counterintuitive things to each other; all the family members being
reunited; and in two of the stories, God revealing something to one of the
family members. In addition to Mūsā and Yūsuf both being thrown into things
by family members, there are other parallels in their stories in the Qur’ān.21
However, the variations are that God reveals to the person acted upon, Yūsuf,
in one case, and to the actor in another case, Mūsā’s mother; both use the same
root, w-ḥ-y. The similarities and contrasts draw one to reflect upon the themes
of family, inspiration from God, on what basis people choose to act, reunion,
being spared from a difficult fate, and the sometimes opposing pulls between
faith and family. One is also led to reflect on similarities and differences be-
tween the main actors in the stories: Mūsā’s mother, Ibrāhīm, and Yūsuf ’s
brothers on one hand, and Mūsā, Ismā‘īl, and Yūsuf on the other hand. In the
20 How the Qur’ān Works
first category, we also see the striking categorization of Yūsuf ’s brothers with
their sin and crime, with Mūsā’s mother and Ibrāhīm. One is then led to think
about what makes their actions morally different.
We can broaden our scope and think about how the theme of parents and
children, and family members doing counterintuitive things are related.
Figure 2.1 shows these connections. We can start with the story of Zakariyyā
asking to have a child and move to its parallel story, in the same sūra, of
Maryam being told she will have a child. Then, in different sūras, comes a par-
allel of Ibrāhīm and his wife being told they will have a child. A reversal is
Ibrāhīm being asked to sacrifice his son. Parallel to this is Mūsā’s mother being
inspired to throw her baby in a river. A reversal to this is Yūsuf ’s brothers
throwing him into a well. A reversal of this is when Yūsuf ’s shirt is thrown
on his father to heal him (12:93 and 12:96). Another reversal to Yūsuf ’s being
thrown in the well is the accusation that the king’s cup is stolen. A reversal to
this is Yūsuf keeping his brother. Going back to Sūrat Maryam, a reversal to
the stories of people having children is Ibrāhīm’s interaction with his father.
Parallel: Parallel:
Parallel:
Maryam, Ibrāhīm,
Zakariyyā,
child child
child (19:3‒6)
(19:19‒33) (51:28‒30)
Swerve:
Ibrāhīm asks Reversal: Reversal: Parallel:
about children Ibrāhīm and Ibrāhīm, Mūsā’s mom
(2:124)// his father sacrifice son throws baby
Parallel to (19:41‒50) (37:83‒113) (20:38‒39)
Zakariyyā
Reversal:
Reversal: Yūsuf’s
Reversal:
Maryam’s brothers
Ibrāhīm, son
mother prays throw in well
build Ka‘ba
for her (12:8‒18)
(2:127‒133)
(3:35‒36) Reversal: Reversal:
King’s cup is Yūsuf’s shirt
supposedly is thrown and
stolen heals Ya‘qūb
(12:70‒76) (12:96)
Reversal:
Yūsuf keeps
his brother
(12:79)
Figure 2.1 Parallels, Reversals, and Swerves in Stories of Parents and Children
Repetition in Structure 21
A swerve is when Ibrāhīm asks God about his children. Two final reversals,
and really resolutions, are when Ibrāhīm and his son build the Ka‘ba, and
when Maryam’s mother dedicates her to God.
This can also be envisioned as a table, Table 2.1, showing the connections
between stories, with “P” for parallel, “R” for reversal, and “S” for swerve.
Here, there are thematic and semantic connections between seven sūras
(sūras 2, 3, 12, 19, 20, 37, and 51, and some of the stories have repeated
iterations, which are not included here). In this way, the stories of Maryam’s
mother, Maryam, Zakariyyā, Ibrāhīm, Mūsā’s mother, and Yūsuf are all
connected. Through an exploration of parallels, reversals, and swerves,
we come to find that the theme of parents and children is are very much
connected with the theme of family members doing counterintuitive things.
Within Mūsā’s story in the Qur’ān, there are more parallels and reversals, spe-
cifically in the theme of meeting people and their influences on each other.
First, Mūsā hears a person yelling for help, he goes to help and not only does
he accidentally kill a man (28:15), but he also later finds out that the man
crying out for help is himself an instigator (28:18–19):
28:15 He entered the city, unnoticed by its people, and found two men fighting: one
from his own people, the other an enemy. The one from his own people cried out
to him for help against the enemy. Moses struck him with his fist and killed him. He
said, “This must be Satan’s work: clearly he is a misleading enemy.”
16 He said, “Lord, I have wronged myself. Forgive me,” so He forgave him; He is
truly the Most Forgiving, the Most Merciful.
17 He said, “My Lord, because of the blessings You have bestowed upon me,
I shall never support those who do evil.”
18 Next morning, he was walking in the city, fearful and vigilant, when suddenly
the man he had helped the day before cried out to him for help. Moses said, “You
are clearly a troublemaker.”
19 As he was about to attack the man who was an enemy to both of them, the
man said, “Moses, are you going to kill me as you killed that person yesterday? You
clearly want to be a tyrant in the land; you do not intend to put things right.”
20 Then a man came running from the furthest part of the city and said, “Moses,
the authorities are talking about killing you, so leave—this is my sincere advice.”
21 So Moses left the city, fearful and wary, and prayed, “My Lord, save me from
people who do wrong.”
Table 2.1 Parallels, Reversals, and Swerves in Stories of Parents and Children
Person, Zakariyyā, Maryam, Ibrāhīm, Ibrāhīm Ibrāhīm, Mūsā’s Ibrāhīm Maryam’s Ibrāhīm, Yūsuf ’s King’s Yūsuf Yūsuf ’s
event child child child and his sacrifice mother asks mother son, brothers cup is keeps shirt is
father son throws about prays for build throw in supposedly his thrown
baby his her Ka‘ba well stolen brother on
children Ya‘qūb
Zakariyyā, P P P R R P
child
Maryam, P P P R R
child
Ibrāhīm, P P P R R
child
Ibrāhīm and R R R R R
his father
Ibrāhīm, R R R P R
sacrifice son
Mūsā’s R R R P R
mother
throws baby
Ibrāhīm asks P S
about his
children
Person, Zakariyyā, Maryam, Ibrāhīm, Ibrāhīm Ibrāhīm, Mūsā’s Ibrāhīm Maryam’s Ibrāhīm, Yūsuf ’s King’s Yūsuf Yūsuf ’s
event child child child and his sacrifice mother asks mother son, brothers cup is keeps shirt is
father son throws about prays for build throw in supposedly his thrown
baby his her Ka‘ba well stolen brother on
children Ya‘qūb
Maryam’s R
mother prays
for her
Ibrāhīm, R
son, build
Ka‘ba
Yūsuf ’s R R R R
brothers
throw in well
King’s cup is R R
supposedly
stolen
Yūsuf keeps R
his brother
Yūsuf ’s shirt R
is thrown on
Ya‘qūb
Note: “P” for parallel, “R” for reversal, and “S” for swerve.
24 How the Qur’ān Works
22 As he made his way towards Midian, he was saying, “May my Lord guide me to
the right way.”
In the beginning of this story, Mūsā helps a person he should not have helped
and in a way that was also bad, resulting in accidentally killing someone. Mūsā
asks God for forgiveness and swears that he will never again help a criminal
(28:16–17). Not only does Mūsā realize that this man presumably frequently
picks fights with people (28:18), but also one of the men accuses Mūsā of being
a tyrant who has no interest in doing good (28:19).
There is a complication in this story. Mūsā prays to God and says he will
not “support those who do evil” (28:17), but then he sees men fighting again,
is on the verge of helping again, and finally does not (28:18–19). Why does
Mūsā seem to come so close to making the same error again? Perhaps the
narrator is showing the audience that it takes time to change oneself. In
the story of Mūsā’s people, we see similar lessons: despite the people seeing
Mūsā’s God-given miracles (20:23, 27:13, 43:47–54, and 79:20) and being
freed from slavery at least partly as a result of them (20:77), when they see
people worshipping an idol, they also want one (7:138–140), and when al-
Sāmirī proposes making a golden calf for them, they agree and are adamant
in worshipping it (20:85–91) to the extent that Hārūn fears for his own life
(7:150). Mūsā almost makes the same mistake twice, and his people do indeed
make the same mistake more than once. So in Mūsā and his people, we see
that it takes time for people to change their actions, inclinations, and beliefs.
At the same time, we see a leader who has gone through similar challenges as
his people: the leader reflects the people. Another way to look at this scene is
that through repetition Mūsā gets a second chance; he gets a chance to avoid
making the same mistake twice.
Returning to the story, in a twist, or a reversal, a man comes and warns
Mūsā that the counselors—al-mala’ again—are deliberating about having
Mūsā killed (28:20). Mūsā believes him and runs away, praying to God to
protect him from wrongdoers (28:21). The contrast is clear: first, Mūsā trusts
the wrong person and does the wrong thing, then he almost trusts the wrong
person again, then he trusts the right person and does the right thing. Some
questions this brings forward are how can someone judge the people they just
met, and how can one judge one’s own reason or another’s morality?
Perhaps not surprisingly, Mūsā flees to Madyan, where he again sees people
who need help and he again helps (28:23–24):
28:23 When he arrived at Midian’s waters, he found a group of men watering [their
flocks], and beside them two women keeping their flocks back, so he said, “What
Repetition in Structure 25
is the matter with you two?” They said, “We cannot water [our flocks] until the
shepherds take their sheep away: our father is a very old man.”
24 He watered their flocks for them, withdrew into the shade, and prayed, “My
Lord, I am in dire need of whatever good thing You may send me,”
Mūsā meets and trusts the two women whom he helps and their father (28:23–
25). He tells the father his life story and then makes an agreement with the
man to work for him and marry one of his daughters (28:25–28). There are
a number of reversals in this story: Mūsā again helps people, and in this case
they are good people. Instead of something bad happening as a result (him
accidentally killing someone), good things happen (he gains employment and
gets married). Mūsā also trusts the women’s father, and the women and their
father trust him.
There are clear reversals in the stories where Mūsā helps the man and ac-
cidentally kills someone, where he almost again helps a person in a fight,
where another man tries to help him by telling him to flee, and when Mūsā
is in Madyan. Each of the scenes, which is a parallel or reversal, has the word
madīna or Madyan, all with the letters m-d-y-n. In fact, in Arabic script, the
main parts of the words are the same and are differentiated with an alif and
lam in the beginning and a tā’ marbuta in the end of the word al-madīna.
First, Mūsā enters the city, al-madīna (we do not know where he was before
or why this is an important detail), and accidentally kills someone (28:15).
Then comes the scene the next day, when Mūsā almost gets involved in a fight
again, with the word al-madīna (28:18). The third time we have the word al-
madīna is when the man comes from the outskirts of the city to warn Mūsā
(28:20). And then, Mūsā finds himself at Madyan (28:22). Clearly, the Qur’ān
is drawing attention to the parallels and reversals in these stories, with the
echoing words and letters. Here, the Qur’ān uses semantic echoes to draw at-
tention to parallels and reversals in its stories. The shared root is a semantic
parallel in stories with thematic parallels. The semantic choices reflect the the-
matic choices, all of which draw comparison between the various stories.
The parallels and reversals in these stories bring to light the issue of trust. In
fact, the woman uses the word trustworthy to describe Mūsā, al-amīn: “One
of the women said, ‘Father, hire him: a strong, trustworthy man is the best to
hire’ ” (28:26). Why did the women, their father, and Mūsā trust each other,
and why were they correct to do so? Why was Mūsā wrong to trust before but
right to trust now? One reason it was right for Mūsā to trust these strangers
in Madyan is because he had prayed to God to bless him with good (28:24).
In fact, after Mūsā accidentally kills the man, he asks God for forgiveness and
swears that he will never again help a criminal (28:16–17), then he narrowly
26 How the Qur’ān Works
avoids getting involved in another fight and then the man comes and correctly
tells him to flee. So a difference is in Mūsā’s praying to God, who is the correct
being to trust. Another difference is that in the conflicts with the men, Mūsā
trusts someone from his tribe and sees the other as the enemy; perhaps he is to
learn not to judge based only on tribe or appearance.
Another story in which Mūsā deals with trust is in Sūrat al-Kahf, when he
meets a person who has knowledge from God (18:65). The man is often called
al-Khiḍr or al-Khaḍir in extra-Qur’ānic sources. Mūsā seems to be looking for
this person, so he is possibly not entirely a stranger. Mūsā asks if he can follow
him around so he can learn from what the man has been taught (18:66), and
the man says Mūsā will not be able to be patient, for how can he be patient with
things he does not understand (18:67–68)? Mūsā says he will try to be patient,
and the man tells him not to ask him any questions until he explains things
to him (18:69–70). The man does three surprising things, and Mūsā asks him
about his actions each time, until the man finally tells him not to continue
with him (18:71–78). He is generous enough to explain his actions before they
part (18:79–82). In regards to the issue of strangers and trust, it appears that
perhaps Mūsā had heard about this man and he knew he had some know-
ledge from God (18:60–64 and 18:66); yet, Mūsā does not trust him enough
to keep his promise of not questioning his actions. So this is a swerve on the
other stories of Mūsā trusting strangers. In this case, the stranger is one that
Mūsā should trust, despite his surprising and normally objectionable actions.
And yet, Mūsā has a hard time trusting him. The Qur’ān does not tell us if this
occurs after the other stories, and Mūsā has learned his lesson to not trust too
readily, or if the man’s actions are just so strange that Mūsā cannot help but
question him.
Mūsā, in the Qur’ān, is dealing with the issue of whom to trust. Ironically,
Yūsuf was betrayed by his brothers, and later his adoptive mother tries
to seduce him and then blames him; in his case, his betrayals are by family
members, not strangers. So Yūsuf could easily be a character through which
to explore trust, but he is not. Yūsuf, one could speculate, might have difficulty
trusting people as a result of being betrayed by his family members. In con-
trast, Mūsā, if anything, is too trusting. The issue of trust is a fundamental part
of believing in a message, having faith, and believing in God. This is especially
clear in Mūsā’s story, when, for example, a messenger comes and warns him
(28:20–21). This is clearly a parallel to prophets: they come with a message
and warn people, fulfilling the role of a nadhīr, a warner. It is as if Mūsā gets
a foreshadowing of himself in this messenger. Through the theme of Mūsā
trusting strangers, as well as his learning whom to trust, the Qur’ānic audi-
ence reflects on messages, messengers, and trust.
Repetition in Structure 27
We have seen parallels and contrasts in Mūsā and Yūsuf and their lives. We can
examine parallels from a different perspective, in the theme of how prophets
come to believe. There are two stories that serve as parallels and swerves to
each other. First, there is the story of Ibrāhīm looking at the moon and stars to
think about faith (6:74–83):
6:74 Remember when Abraham said to his father, Azar, “How can you take idols as
gods? I see that you and your people have clearly gone astray.”
75 In this way We showed Abraham [God’s] mighty dominion over the heavens
and the earth, so that he might be a firm believer.
76 When the night grew dark over him he saw a star and said, “This is my Lord,”
but when it set, he said, “I do not like things that set.”
77 And when he saw the moon rising he said, “This is my Lord,” but when it too
set, he said, “If my Lord does not guide me, I shall be one of those who go astray.”
78 Then he saw the sun rising and cried, “This is my Lord! This is greater.” But
when the sun set, he said, “My people, I disown all that you worship beside God.
79 I have turned my face as a true believer towards Him who created the heavens
and the earth. I am not one of the polytheists.”
80 His people argued with him, and he said, “How can you argue with me about
God when He has guided me? I do not fear anything you associate with Him: unless
my Lord wills [nothing can happen]. My Lord encompasses everything in His know-
ledge. How can you not take heed?
81 Why should I fear what you associate with Him? Why do you not fear to asso-
ciate with Him things for which He has sent you no authority? Tell me, if you know
the answer, which side has more right to feel secure?
82 It is those who have faith, and do not mix their faith with idolatry, who will be
secure, and it is they who are rightly guided.”
83 Such was the argument We gave to Abraham against his people—We raise in
rank whoever We will—your Lord is an all-knowing judge.
In this story, Ibrāhīm looks at the outside world, at large celestial bodies, to
think about faith and to explore it with others. I discuss this scene elsewhere,
in the context of other stories of Ibrāhīm.22 We see here his thought process as
he thinks about faith. It is noteworthy that Ibrāhīm is not in a dialogue with
God, but, it says that God gave him this proof (6:83).
A parallel story is found in Mūsā’s dialogue with God about his staff and
hand. These are signs for him to show Fir‘awn, but they also are metaphors
for him to understand his role. God summons Mūsā, tells him He is God, and
28 How the Qur’ān Works
tells him to worship God (20:12–16).23 Then God asks Mūsā what is in his
hand (20:17). Since God is omniscient, this is an interesting question. And
Mūsā’s answer is also interesting, mentioning its particular and abstract uses
(20:18). God commands Mūsā to throw the staff, he does, and it becomes a
snake (20:19–20). Mūsā is scared, God tells him not to fear, and then God
returns the staff to its original form (27:10 and 20:21). Similarly, God changes
the nature of Mūsā’s hand: God tells Mūsā to put his hand under his arm and
then it becomes white (20:22). A staff that one presumably uses frequently—
Mūsā has it with him on the very occasion of this dialogue—and one’s hand,
which one then places under one’s arm, are very intimate and local objects.
They show Mūsā how something can change into something else, just as Mūsā
can change from a flawed person to a messenger who leads his people out
of slavery, and Mūsā can change from a son/subject fleeing from his father
figure/ruler to a messenger demanding a tyrannous ruler to free the people he
enslaves. Interestingly, both Ibrāhīm and Mūsā have problematic relationships
with their father and father figure, respectively.
In the stories of Mūsā, his hand and staff, and Ibrāhīm and the celestial
bodies, the parallels are in the exploration of the faith of prophets, how they
believe in God and themselves. Contrasts are found in the large and small,
celestial and human, distanced and local and intimate. These parallels and
swerves enable the audience to think about faith, how one comes to faith, and
to ponder similarities and differences between Mūsā and Ibrāhīm. In addi-
tion, this form of repetition enables characterization. Why does Ibrāhīm think
about celestial bodies in his exploration of faith? Perhaps he is more interested
in or awed by celestial bodies and thinks about faith on a grand, majestic scale.
Perhaps Mūsā’s gaze is more localized and personal because he needs to reex-
amine himself and see himself as being empowered by God. Maybe he sees
faith on a personal and intimate level. Thus, the repeated parallel themes and
differences draw us to think about how Ibrāhīm and Mūsā think about faith,
and this in turn lends insight into their personalities and the nature of belief.
Some may come to faith by looking at large signs and others may come to faith
by looking at small signs. Here, Qur’ānic stories perfectly embody verses, such
as “On earth there are signs for those with sure faith–and in yourselves too, do
you not see?’ (51:20–21).
VI. Outliers
sometimes there are outliers. For an example, we can focus on the root q-ṣ-y
and all of its five appearances in the Qur’ān.24 In two of the occurrences, with
echoing phrases and words, a man comes from the outskirts of a city to warn
someone or people—one of these is the verse examined above, when a man
warns Mūsā that the chiefs are talking about killing him (28:20 and 36:20).
In the third example, Maryam is pregnant, goes to “a distant place” (qaṣiyyā,
19:22), delivers her baby, ‘Īsā, and then goes back to her people with him.
Maryam is a messenger of the messenger—and she brings the word of God
to the people (4:171). In the fourth verse with q-ṣ-y, God moves the Prophet
to “the furthest [al-aqṣā] place of worship” (17:1). In these four times that the
root q-ṣ-y appears in the Qur’ān, there is a message and/or messenger that is
associated with the outskirts of a place.
The remaining time we see the q-ṣ-y root in the Qur’ān is in the following:
8:42 Remember when you were on the near side of the valley, and they were on the
far [al-quṣwa] side and the caravan was below you. If you had made an appoint-
ment to fight, you would have failed to keep it [but the battle took place] so that
God might bring about something already ordained.
The context given for this verse is that it is telling the Prophet and his
people about the Battle of Badr. This verse clearly contrasts with the previ-
ously discussed ones. It addresses the second-person plural, so the Prophet
Muḥammad is implied as part of the group (8:42) but is not mentioned spe-
cifically. Also noticeable is that q-ṣ-y refers to the enemy. So the messenger
is in a different location than we have seen until now—the messenger is dis-
placed. Here is a contrast and a reversal: there is the diminished presence
of a messenger, and he is rejected by some. The contrast brings a sadness
to the verses: the messenger is physically displaced and spiritually rejected
by some. The battle took place two years after the hijra, so the Prophet
and other Muslims were indeed physically displaced in their migration
to Madīnah. The Muslims were victorious in this battle, so it is significant
that the undertones of the verse are negative. This is not a boastful cele-
bration of prowess. Perhaps this reflects the people’s initial hesitation to
fight or an inherent sadness in fighting with others, which is a breakdown
of communication and amity. The verse clearly alludes to God’s hand in all
of this—God’s will—that also connects to the previous verse (8:41), speci-
fying that one-fifth of the spoils goes to God and those that God mentions
in the verse.
The existence of an outlier is not a surprise; it is similar to a reversal.
Elsewhere in the Qur’ān, we see patterns being made and then broken, as
30 How the Qur’ān Works
we did with parallels, swerves, and reversals. What I label as outliers can be
swerves or reversals, but they are clearly different from the other usages of the
root. The existence of outliers makes us realize the sophistication of Qur’ānic
style and that it trusts the careful audience will be able to identify patterns
and outliers and will contemplate reasons for the contrasts. We also find the
breaking of patterns in Qur’ānic rhyme, which some explain as preventing mo-
notony. Outliers are reflective of Qur’ānic style and how the Qur’ān comments
on itself, complicating and adding layers of meaning to itself. Importantly,
outliers do not take away from the existence of patterns.
19:41‒57 Family,
God, stories
19:58 God,
prostration,
metatext
12:1 letters;
signs of the book
12:3 beautiful
stories
12:4
Yūsuf’s
story
12:1 Alif Lam Ra These are the verses of the Scripture that makes things clear—
2 We have sent it down as an Arabic Qur’an so that you [people] may understand.
3 We tell you [Prophet] the best of stories in revealing this Qur’an to you. Before
this you were one of those who knew nothing about them.
4 Joseph said to his father, “Father, I dreamed of eleven stars and the sun and the
moon: I saw them all bow down before me,”
Here, we start with the disconnected letters, then have mention of the signs of
the book (12:1). Then we move to the more particular concept, as if in answer
to the question of what book, with the answer being the Qur’ān, further mod-
ified as being in Arabic (12:2). Then the narrator mentions the most beautiful
of stories (12:3) and, finally, the story of Yūsuf begins (12:4). So, we start with
the most general concept: letters, then a book, then the particular book, then
stories within the book, and, finally, a specific story. Again, the shape of this
structure is an inverted triangle, as seen in Figure 2.3. The understanding of
this structure lends us some insight into the meaning of the disconnected let-
ters, which has proved puzzling to scholars of the Qur’ān.26 Here, at least, the
disconnected letters represent the general concept of language and the com-
ponent parts of a book. This organizational structure is how the Qur’ān moves
the reader or listener from thinking about the general idea of language to a
particular story.
On the level of a lengthy sūra, there is a similar structure in Sūrat al-Baqara,
elucidated by Nevin Reda. In Figure 2.4, we start with the broadest category
of humanity (2:1–39), then the Children of Israel (2:40–123), and then the
Muslim nation (2:124–286).27 So we move from a general to a specific group.
There also appears to be an element of chronology here. The organizational
structure suggests either that the Muslim community is a smaller part of the
32 How the Qur’ān Works
2:1‒39 Humanity
2:40‒123 The
Children of
Israel
2:124‒286
The Muslim
nation
1:4 Manages
the world:
al-Mālik
then it enlightens one about God. In fact, this is similar to how some explain
the shorter sūras in the Qur’ān that came chronologically first (the Meccan
sūras): first, the sūras establish fundamental beliefs in God, good behavior,
accountability, and the Day of Judgment, then they move to the longer sūras
with legal content. First, the Qur’ān starts with the general concept and then it
moves to the particular, on a large scale (chronological order of revelation of
sūras) and on a small scale (within sūras).
The structure of the inverted triangle is repeated in the Qur’ān, within and
outside of stories. It elucidates an organizational logic and structure in the
Qur’ān, starting with the general and moving to the specific, one time starting
with a pairing of concepts and then narrowing to highlight the more impor-
tant concept. Through this parallel structure, we see a logic in how the Qur’ān
organizes information, which lends insight into its rhetorical style. This pat-
tern also helps the audience understand some verses that have been puzzling,
such as the disconnected letters in Sūrat Yūsuf. Knowing this rhetorical pat-
tern also helps understand if, in Sūrat al-Fātiḥa, for example, the names of
God are listed in order of priority or magnitude, or rather, in order of gradual
specificity. A further direction of research would be to see if the inverted tri-
angular structure can be found in Qur’ānic legal verses as well.
VIII. Conclusion
It is likely that there are more parallels, swerves, reversals, triangles, and
outliers in the Qur’ān. An awareness of different structural patterns will en-
able us to identify other examples and perhaps other structural patterns. More
generally, one notices the making and breaking of patterns in the Qur’ān.
These structures and patterns lend more insight into narrative and rhetor-
ical choices of the Qur’ān. For example, the triangular structure in Sūrat Yūsuf
helps us better understand the disconnected letters with which it begins. This
structure also lends insight into Qur’ānic logic. There is an artistry, a beauty
on a large, structural, and organizational scale in the Qur’ān’s organizing
patterns. Qur’ānic organization within sūras is not arbitrary or merely a com-
pilation of related themes or stories.
Through this analysis, we see sometimes surprising connections made
between thirteen Qur’ānic stories: the stories of Zakariyyā having a child,
Maryam having a child, Ibrāhīm with his father, Ibrāhīm having a child,
Maryam’s mother, God calling Ibrāhīm an imām, Ibrāhīm and his son
building the Ka‘ba, Ibrāhīm being told to sacrifice his son, Mūsā’s mother
being told to throw her child into the water, and Yūsuf ’s being thrown into the
34 How the Qur’ān Works
well. We find that these stories are all connected semantically or thematically,
through parallels and reversals. This draws the audience to compare and con-
trast the stories and the characters in them. Parallels and reversals between
Mūsā and Ibrāhīm’s approach to belief draw attention to the general concept
of how people come to faith, as well as these specific characters and their simi-
larities and differences. Finally, Mūsā’s propensity to help people and learning
whom to trust and not trust is a fascinating topic,29 which comes to light
through parallels and reversals. Although Yūsuf had to deal with betrayal,
which is the breaking of trust, Mūsā is the character who deals with the trust
of strangers. Why does it matter if one trusts strangers or not? Everyone is in-
itially a stranger. How does one know whom to trust? In addition, trust is fun-
damental to the issue of faith. How does one know whom or what to believe?
How easy is it to learn whom to trust and always make the right decision? Not
so easy, according to Mūsā’s story. Parallels and reversals provide a way for
the Qur’ān to complicate and revisit the themes and topics it elucidates, while
connections through repetition draw the audience to see the interaction of
Qur’ānic verses across sūras.
3
Repetition in the Qur’ānic Story of Mūsā
I. Introduction
This chapter analyzes the topic of repetition in the Qur’ān, with a focus on the
story of Mūsā, the Qur’ān’s most frequently told story.1 Repetition is a fraught
topic within Western Qur’ānic studies scholarship. Salwa El-Awa writes about
repetition in the Qur’ān:
Those who thought that the Qur’ān contained too many unnecessary repetitions
have severely criticized the language of the text on that grounds. On the other
hand, those who set out to defend the text did so on the grounds that repeated
topics in the Qur’ān are not repetitive in the sense that they repeat exactly the same
information in each occurrence but vary in what they say about each topic each
time it occurs.2
How the Qur’ān Works. Leyla Ozgur Alhassen, Oxford University Press. © Oxford University Press 2023.
DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780197654606.003.0003
36 How the Qur’ān Works
God has sent down the most beautiful of all teachings: a Scripture that is consistent
and draws comparisons [allahu nazzala aḥsana al-ḥadīthi kitāban mutashābihan
mathāniya]; that causes the skins of those in awe of their Lord to shiver. Then their
skins and their hearts soften at the mention of God: such is God’s guidance. He
guides with it whoever He will; no one can guide those God leaves to stray (39:23).
This verse connects repetition in the Qur’ān to beauty and the emo-
tional or spiritual resonance that the Qur’ān has on its audience. The phrase
in the verse that appears to discuss repetition in the Qur’ān is kitāban
mutashābihan mathāniya. Al-Ṭabarī gives a few explanations for this
phrase; one explanation is that parts of the Qur’ān resemble other parts,
there is no difference between them, and there is no contradiction.9 Here,
then, is the issue of repetition and contradiction. Other explanations are
that verses of the Qur’ān resemble each other, letters resemble each other,
parts of the Qur’ān verify other parts, parts of the Qur’ān lend truth to other
Repetition in the Qur’ānic Story of Mūsā 37
parts, and some parts of the Qur’ān lead to other parts. Another explana-
tion is that a verse in one sūra may be similar to a verse in another sūra.10
These explanations are identifying repetition in the Qur’ān on the level of
parts (whatever they may be), verses, and even letters. This interpretation
brings to mind what we will see below in Alter, namely, that one can look at
repetition on the scale of words or larger groupings of words. Throughout
this book, we will indeed see multiple examples of how parts of the Qur’ān
lead to other parts. Other explanations are that parts of the Qur’ān are as
eloquent as others; there are recurring themes in the Qur’ān; and that the
Qur’ān talks about paired concepts, such as heaven and hell, so the idea of
pairs could be thematic.11
The analysis in this book is inspired by the lens of intratextuality, an an-
alytical tool through which some scholars analyze repetition in the Qur’ān.
In this chapter, I argue and will show that when one notices repetition of any
kind in the Qur’ān, one of the first useful things to do is to turn to the context
of the verses in question. After locating a verse in its context, one can look at
overarching themes in its surrounding verses, as well as features such as end-
rhyme and semantic echoes. This shows the importance of an intratextual ap-
proach to understanding repetition.
As seen in Appendix A, I have compiled all the stories of Mūsā in the Qur’ān
into tables showing the iteration and plot summaries for each one. These in-
clude all the verses discussing Mūsā, either by name or allusion. Every verse
that is part of a story is given a place in these tables. These tables were com-
pared to other works to see if they include the same verses.
Critical to categorizing stories on Mūsā in the Qur’ān is an analysis of
what constitutes a story in the Qur’ān. Stories in the Qur’ān may be either
full stories, segments of stories, or story-related discourse, such as asking the
audience whether they heard a specific story. One example is the introduc-
tion to the story of Mūsā in Sūrat Ṭaha: “Has the story of Moses come to you
[Prophet]?” (20:9). While this story-related discourse is not actually narra-
tive, I have included it in what follows.
Through my analysis, we can say that in the Qur’ān there are a total
of four distinct stories about Mūsā, with forty-two iterations. The four
stories have a different number of iterations per story: Mūsā and Fir‘awn
(twenty-four iterations), Mūsā and the book (ten iterations), Mūsā with
his people (seven iterations), and Mūsā and the wise man (one iteration).
With twenty-four iterations, the story of Mūsā and Fir‘awn is the most-told
story not only among the stories of Mūsā but also among all the stories in
the Qur’ān. When looking at the next-most recounted story in the Qur’ān,
one might conclude that it is Ibrāhīm with nineteen stories.12 This total,
38 How the Qur’ān Works
however, includes all stories about Ibrāhīm, not just one specific story,
while the story of Mūsā and Fir‘awn, in particular, is told more frequently
and in a variety of lengths, ranging from one to one hundred verses. The
tables in Appendix A allows scholars to look at the issue of repetition in
the Qur’ān; since I present the most commonly recounted story in the
Qur’ān—the story of Mūsā—one would assume that repetition should cer-
tainly show itself here.
The tables in Appendix A of the stories of Mūsā in the Qur’ān are useful for
exploring repetition in the story of Mūsā in the Qur’ān. When we look at these
tables, we can see how much is actually repeated in the stories, and then we
can read those verses and see how similar they really are. I highlight some of
those similarities and differences in one particular part of the story of Mūsā—
Mūsā and Fir‘awn—in this chapter.
In this chapter, I begin by working from Robert Alter’s and Sandra Naddaff ’s
explanations of types of repetition and I discuss examples of them from the
Qur’ān. Here, I focus on types of repetition, on a scale from small to large: root
word, “motif,” “theme,” “sequence of actions,” and “type-scene.”13 Then I dis-
cuss and give examples of what can be done with repetition, inspired again by
Robert Alter. Repetition may be deployed, “aborted,” or suppressed.14 We find
different manifestations of suppressed repetition, when there is focalization,
characterization, and reversals. I then look at repetition and selective giving
and withholding of information. Finally, I discuss repeated elements within
varying length iterations of the story of Mūsā and Fir‘awn in the Qur’ān. I also
analyze repeated elements in introductions and conclusions to the various
iterations of this story.
One of the most imposing barriers that stands between the modern reader and the
imaginative subtlety of biblical narrative is the extraordinary prominence of ver-
batim repetition in the Bible. Accustomed as we are to modes of narration in which
elements of repetition are made to seem far less obtrusive, this habit of constantly
restating material is bound to give us trouble, especially in a narrative that other-
wise adheres so evidently to the strictest economy of means.15
Repetition in the Qur’ānic Story of Mūsā 39
Alter is explaining that readers of the Bible have difficulty when they come
across repetition because it contrasts with their expectations of what a text
should look like and it contrasts with other parts of the Bible, which are sparse.
I would argue that readers of the Qur’ān experience a similar challenge.
When we discuss repetition, it is useful to realize that there are many forms
in which repetition can occur. Alter includes a list of types of repetition found
in biblical narrative, all of which can be found in the Qur’ān, and which the ta-
bles in Appendix A can help locate. His list moves from a small to a large scale.
Following is a summary of Alter’s list of types of repetition, to which I have
incorporated Naddaff, and then added and analyzed examples for each type
from the Qur’ānic stories of Mūsā.
A. Root Word
We start with “Leitwort.”16 The semantic root of a word is used repeatedly and
in a variety of ways. Similarly, Naddaff writes that we can find repetition on
the level of phrases, sentences, and “patterns of language’—stemming from
the Arabic “trilateral root system.”17 I analyze a number of examples of this
type of repetition in the chapter on exchange encounters in this book.
Repetition of words sharing the same root letters, or repetition of the same
words, are striking orally and can serve narrative effects. In the tables of the
story of Mūsā in Appendix A, we see signs, āyāt, of God multiple times (7:106,
7:130–135, 20:23, 26:30–31, 27:13, 43:47–54, 51:39 and 79:20–23). For an-
other example, we can turn to the scene in Mūsā’s story when he sees a fire and
feels drawn to it. He goes to the location and hears God speak. In one itera-
tion, we notice an alternation of the words min, then fī, then min again, then
we hear what God told Mūsā. The verse is as follows: “But when he reached
it, a voice called out to him from the right-hand side of the valley, from a tree
on the blessed ground: ‘Moses, I am God, the Lord of all worlds’ [fa-lammā
atāhā nūdiya min shāṭi’i al-wādi al-aymani fī al-buqʿati al-mubārakati min
al-shajarati an yāmūsā innī anā allāhu rabbu al-ʿālamīn]” (28:30). Aurally,
we notice here many consonants, which make one slow down on the phrases
describing the location. It builds up one’s anticipation, hearing that something
happened at a particular location, which is refined three times, then we are
finally told what happened there. Here we see that repetition of words and
consonants increases the audience’s curiosity.
Another way to look at the repetition of a root word is when it is only used
for one character in the Qur’ān—an exclusive repetition of a root word. We
have a striking example with Mūsā in his conversation with God. God calls
40 How the Qur’ān Works
Mūsā and tells him to go to Fir‘awn because Fir‘awn is a tyrant. God tells Mūsā
that He is sending Mūsā with signs of God, and one sign is when he throws his
staff. Mūsā throws his staff, and it becomes a snake. Mūsā gets scared, turns
away, and initially does not turn back. The part about him not turning back
occurs in two iterations with almost exact repetition. The first verse: “ ‘Throw
down your staff,’ ” but when he saw it moving like a snake, he turned and fled.
‘Moses, do not be afraid! The messengers need have no fear in My presence
[wa-alqi ‘aṣāka fa-lammā ra’āhā tahtazzu ka-annahā jānnun wallā mudbiran
wa lam yu‘aqqib yā mūsā lā takhaf innī lā yakhāfu ladayya al-mursalūna]’ ”
(27:10). The second iteration:
‘Throw down your staff.’ When he saw his staff moving like a snake, he fled in fear
and would not return. Again [he was called]: ‘Moses! Draw near! Do not be afraid,
for you are one of those who are safe [wa-an alqi ‘aṣāka fa-lammā ra’āhā tahtazzu
ka-annahā jānnun wallā mudbiran wa lam yu‘aqqib yā mūsā aqbil wa lā takhaf
innaka min al-āminīna]’ (28:31).
We see many repeated words in these two verses, but my focus here is on the
word yu‘aqqib, translated as “fled” and “would not return.” This form of this
verb occurs only twice in the Qur’ān, in these two verses. Through this exclu-
sive repetition, we see the depths of Mūsā’s fear and sensitivity. No other mes-
senger or Qur’ānic character is portrayed reacting to God’s signs in this way.
And this is in the context of him talking to God, a rare honor indeed. This also
characterizes Mūsā: he fears, he feels, and shows his emotions, and this char-
acterization is further confirmed by God telling him, with the same words
twice not to fear, lā takhaf. So with this exclusive repeated use of this word, we
see something unique about Mūsā or his situation. With this narrative tech-
nique, there is characterization and commentary on Mūsā and his story.
B. Motif
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