EVERY year on Allama Muhammad Iqbal’s birth anniversary, Pakistan honours its National Poet with ceremonies, speeches and familiar quotations. Yet a troubling question lingers: do we truly understand Iqbal or have we reduced him to a symbol while neglecting his philosophy? The contrast with Iran is striking. In Iran, Iqbal is studied not merely as the poet who inspired a Muslim homeland in South Asia, but as a philosopher, mystic and intellectual heir to the Persian tradition. His Persian poetry is taught in universities and discussed in scholarly circles. In Pakistan, however, many know Shikwa, Jawab-e-Shikwa and a few Urdu verses, but remain unfamiliar with the Persian works that constitute more than half of his poetic legacy and contain his deepest philosophical thought.
Many of Iqbal’s most celebrated poems amount to a blueprint for nation building. In Lab Pe Aati Hai Dua Ban Ke Tamanna Meri, he emphasizes character, humility, compassion and service. Nation building, for Iqbal, begins with moral development. A society cannot rise above the character of its citizens. In Naya Shivala, he advocates unity above divisions of caste, creed and ethnicity. In Tarana-e-Hindi, he links patriotism to civic responsibility and collective purpose. At a time when societies are increasingly polarized, these lessons remain profoundly relevant. Perhaps no concept is more central to Iqbal’s thought than Khudi, elaborated in Asrar-e-Khudi. Often misunderstood as ego, Khudi is self-realization, the awakening of the divine potential within every individual. “Khudi ko kar buland itna…” is not merely personal advice; it is a national programme. Nations prosper when their citizens possess confidence, discipline, creativity and purpose.
The same message is embodied in Iqbal’s iconic Shaheen, a symbol fittingly adopted by the Pakistan Air Force. The eagle represents ambition, courage, independence and self-reliance. For Iqbal, the Shaheen was the ideal metaphor for youth: fearless in adversity, unattached to comfort and constantly striving towards higher horizons. He urged young people to reject complacency and embrace challenge. His ideal youth sought not comfort but achievement, not privilege but excellence.
His message to the younger generation finds perhaps its clearest expression in Javid Nama. When his son Javid requested a gramophone from England, Iqbal responded not with indulgence but with timeless counsel: Mera tareeq ameeri nahin, faqeeri hai, Khudi na bech, ghareebi mein naam paida kar! The way of the hermit, not fortune, is mine; Sell not your soul! In poverty, carve out dignity.
This was far more than paternal advice. It was a philosophy of resilience, self-respect and self-reliance. Iqbal taught that adversity should be met through sacrifice, discipline and moral courage rather than dependence or materialism. The lesson applies equally to leadership. Governments that share the hardships of their people and lead by example strengthen national cohesion. Those who insulate themselves in privilege weaken the bond of trust that sustains societies.
In Masjid-e-Qurtuba, inspired by his visit to the historic Mosque of Cordoba in Spain, Iqbal reflects on the rise and decline of civilizations. His conclusion is that enduring greatness rests not on force or wealth but on knowledge, faith and creativity. Great nations are shaped by ideas before they are sustained by power.
Iqbal, the philosopher-poet of the East, captured this truth in a timeless couplet: “Attar ho, Rumi ho, Razi ho, Ghazali ho, Kuch hath nahin aata be-aah-e-sehergahi.” Civilizations endure because they produce thinkers, scholars, scientists and visionaries. Intellectual and spiritual striving, not brute force, sustains nations.
Iran appears to have absorbed this lesson more deeply than Pakistan. Its universities continue a tradition of philosophical inquiry that Iqbal admired. Significantly, Iqbal himself earned a PhD from Munich University in 1908 with his dissertation, The Development of Metaphysics in Persia. He explored the evolution of Persian philosophical thought and recognized Persia’s contribution to Islamic intellectual history. It is therefore unsurprising that Iranians embrace him as both philosopher and poet.
Pakistan, unfortunately, often confines him to the role of the dreamer of Pakistan. Worse still, generations grew up hearing the dismissive phrase “parho Farsi, becho tel” (“learn Persian, then peddle oil”), trivializing the language through which Iqbal expressed much of his mature philosophy. While Iranian scholars study Asrar-e-Khudi, Rumuz-e-Bekhudi, Javid Nama, Payam-e-Mashriq and Zabur-e-Ajam, many Pakistanis remain unaware of these masterpieces. This neglect has come at a cost. Iqbal’s Persian works contain his most profound reflections on leadership, civilization, education, spirituality and the future of the Muslim world. By ignoring them, we have reduced a universal philosopher to a political icon.
The irony is that many of Pakistan’s contemporary challenges are precisely those Iqbal sought to address. He rejected fatalism, condemned social injustice, opposed feudal privilege, championed education and called for intellectual renewal. Above all, he believed that no nation could attain greatness without cultivating knowledge, character and self-confidence. On his birth anniversary, the most fitting tribute would not be another ceremony or commemorative speech. It would be a national resolve to rediscover the real Iqbal, not merely the poet of slogans but the philosopher of action, the advocate of learning and the architect of self-renewal.
Iqbal dreamed not merely of a state but of an enlightened, self-respecting, knowledge-driven society. Iran appreciated the philosopher-poet; Pakistan often celebrates only the national bard. Until we engage seriously with the full breadth of his thought, especially his Persian legacy, we will continue to honour Iqbal with our words while neglecting him in practice. The choice before us is simple: commemorate Iqbal or implement Iqbal. Pakistan’s future may well depend upon that choice.
—The writer is an Air Force veteran, defence analyst and author of several books on China.
