Love and Humanism in The Luzūmiyyāt by Adel Sherif
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Al-Maʿarri’s Rejection of Sectarianism: A Humanistic Protest Against Hate and War.
Al-Maʿarri’s intense critique of organized religion stems not from mere intellectual rebellion, but from a profound ethical concern: the suffering caused by religious hatred, sectarian division, and war.
His poetry exposes the violence and hypocrisy embedded in religious institutions while offering a radical alternative—a creed of love, reason, and universal compassion.
1. Rejecting Sectarianism and Advocating Pity
Al-Maʿarri directly links religious sects to confusion and conflict. In his masterpiece, The Luzūmiyyāt, he urges readers to abandon theological squabbles and embrace empathy. He writes:
"Shun the hundred Sects that prate / About the things they little know about."
"Let all receive thy pity, none thy hate." (Quatrain LXIII)
This call to pity over hate is not just poetic; it's philosophical. Al-Maʿarri sees sectarianism as a distraction from true virtue and compassion as the only path forward. For him, the endless theological debates and divisions among different faiths and even within the same faith were utterly pointless, serving only to fuel animosity.
By advocating for universal pity, he was replacing the rigid boundaries of faith with a borderless human emotion.
This leads to his profound redefinition of faith. In a preceding quatrain, he declares love as his sole religion—a creed broad enough to encompass all of humanity.
"My religion is love, and my prayer, / My passion, a burning desire."
This powerful statement replaces the dogma of organized religion with a universal, humanistic ethic.
2. Condemning War, Strife, and Hypocrisy
Al-Maʿarri’s critique is not abstract—it targets the real-world consequences of religious rigidity.
He denounces the "follies and evils of his age," including tyrannous rulers, venal judges, and hypocritical theologians who used religion as a tool for power and personal gain. He describes "roving swarms of dervishes and godless Carmathians" as symptoms of moral decay, but his deeper point is that such extremism is born from a corrupted religious system.
He rejects prophetic narratives, writing:
"Men lived comfortably till they came and spoiled life.
The sacred books are only such a set of idle tales as any age could have and indeed did actually produce."
His solution? Reason, the only guide capable of replacing dogma and preventing conflict.
He believed that if people were to follow their own intellect instead of ancient texts, they would naturally arrive at a more compassionate and peaceful way of life.
In one of his most poignant appeals, he asks:
"Almighty God! will all the human race / Stray blindly from the Truth’s most sacred shrine?"
This question follows his critique of religious practices across Islam, Christianity, and Judaism, including his condemnation of the Hajj as "a pagan’s journey"showing that his despair was for all of humanity, not just one religious group.
A Humanistic Remedy
Al-Maʿarri’s humanistic call, “Let all receive thy pity, none thy hate” is not a passive plea.
It’s a philosophical remedy for the violence and division caused by religious sects and cults. His poetry urges us to abandon inherited hatred and embrace a universal ethic rooted in love, reason, and compassion.
He was a voice for a shared humanity in a world fractured by faith, and his words remain a powerful testament to the idea that true spirituality lies in our treatment of one another, not in our adherence to religious rituals.
While The Luzūmiyyāt (or Unnecessary Necessity) is often remembered for Al-Maʿarri’s biting pessimism and relentless critique of hypocrisy, dogma, and political corruption, it also reveals a profound and unifying ethical vision: Love and Universal Compassion.
Precisely because he rejected sectarianism and ritualistic conflict,
Al-Maʿarri proposed a higher creed—one rooted in empathy, tolerance, and the sanctity of life.
The Religion of Love and Tolerance
In defiance of divisive religious structures.
Al-Maʿarri declares “love, and love alone” as his true faith. In one of his most celebrated quatrains, he writes:
“Now, mosques and churches, even a Kaaba Stone.
Korans and Bibles, even a martyr’s bone,
All these and more my heart can tolerate.
For my religion’s love, and love alone.” (Quatrain LXII)
The Central Message
The last two lines provide the core thesis of the quatrain:
"All these and more my heart can tolerate":
This line is a powerful rhetorical device.
He isn't saying he embraces or believes in them; he is merely stating that he can tolerate them.
This implies a level of detached acceptance,he sees them as human constructs that he can live with, but they hold no personal spiritual meaning for him. His heart is not captured by them.
"For my religion’s love, and love alone".
This final line is the ultimate conclusion.
By stripping away all the external trappings of faith, the buildings, the books, the relics, he reveals his true religion: love.
This is not romantic love, but a universal, humanistic compassion that is boundless and requires no specific rituals, doctrines, or sacred places.
His faith is an internal, ethical one, rooted in empathy and benevolence for all.
In this single quatrain, Al-Ma'arri masterfully dismantles the external forms of religion to reveal what he believes is the only truly sacred and unifying force: universal love.
Universal Pity and the Rejection of Hate
This declaration is followed by a direct ethical appeal to prioritize humanity over theological division:
“To humankind, O Brother, consecrate
Thy heart, and shun the hundred Sects that prate
About the things they little know about
Let all receive thy pity, none thy hate.” (Quatrain LXIII)
Al-Maʿarri urges us to consecrate our hearts to humankind, not to creeds.
His rejection of “the hundred sects” is not a dismissal of belief, but a call to rise above ignorance and embrace compassion.
Compassion and the Sanctity of Life
Al-Maʿarri’s humanism extends beyond humanity to all sentient beings. His ascetic lifestyle and vegetarian ethics reflect a deep reverence for life:
“Thy life with guiltless life-blood do not stain.
Hunt not the children of the woods; in vain
Thou’lt try one day to wash thy bloody hand:
Nor hunter here nor hunted long remain.” (Quatrain XC)
He even asserts:
“To let go a flea is a more virtuous act than to give a dirham to a beggar.”
This radical compassion, toward humans, animals, and even the smallest creatures forms the moral core of Al-Maʿarri’s philosophy. It is not ritual, but mercy, that defines virtue.
