AS Pakistan marks the 149th birth anniversary of Allama Muhammad Iqbal on 9 November, the nation once again pays tribute to the poet-philosopher whose ideas helped shape the intellectual foundations of Pakistan. His poetry is recited, his concept of Khudi celebrated and his vision acknowledged. Yet amid these commemorations, an important question remains: do we truly understand Iqbal beyond a limited selection of verses and slogans? In my recent article, Iqbal’s Forgotten Blueprint for Nation Building, I argued that much of Iqbal’s practical and intellectual legacy has faded from public discourse. Beyond poetry and philosophy, he was an economist, educational reformer, political thinker and among the earliest Muslim intellectuals to engage systematically with the challenges of modernity.
A few Pakistanis today remember that Iqbal authored Ilm-ul-Iqtisad (The Science of Economics), among the earliest books on economics written in Urdu. Drawing upon thinkers such as Adam Smith, David Ricardo, J.S. Mill, Alfred Marshall and Thomas Malthus, he critically examined modern economic ideas and adapted them to local realities. His purpose was not imitation but empowerment. He believed Muslims could master modern knowledge without sacrificing their intellectual and cultural identity. This ability to synthesize indigenous values with contemporary knowledge became the hallmark of Iqbal’s intellectual project. Equally overlooked is his engagement with Afghanistan and his support for educational reform in Kabul. His intellectual horizon extended well beyond British India. He viewed Muslim decline as a civilizational challenge requiring renewal rather than nostalgia. That concern found its fullest expression in The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam. Influenced by reformist thinkers such as Muhammad Abduh, Namik Kemal and Ziya Gokalp, Iqbal sought to diagnose the causes of Muslim decline and identify pathways to revival.
Their diagnosis was straightforward. Muslim societies had increasingly confused historical Arab customs with the universal principles of Islam while neglecting education, scientific inquiry, public health, good governance and the rule of law. Consequently, Iqbal advocated not a return to the past itself but a revival of the intellectual dynamism that once animated Baghdad, Cordoba, Cairo and Samarkand. For Iqbal, Islam was entirely compatible with reason, science and progress. The greatest threat facing Muslims was not external domination but internal stagnation. That warning remains highly relevant today. Pakistan’s challenges cannot be understood solely through economics, politics or security. They also reflect the erosion of educational standards, civic consciousness and ethical values. A generation ago, Iqbal’s “Lab pe aati hai dua ban ke tamanna meri” formed part of the moral vocabulary of schoolchildren across Pakistan. Today, many students have little familiarity with it, although it continues to be taught and appreciated in Indian schools.
Similarly, Iqbal’s Tarana-e-Hindi, beginning with “Sare Jahan Se Achha, Hindustan Hamara”, retained iconic status in India for decades before the adoption of Rabindranath Tagore’s Jana Gana Mana as the national anthem. The contrast is noteworthy: while others continue to preserve significant elements of Iqbal’s heritage, Pakistan often confines its engagement with him to annual ceremonies. Nor is India’s appreciation of Iqbal unique. As noted in my earlier article, Iran continues to draw inspiration from Iqbal’s Persian poetry. In Tehran, a giant mural unveiled on his birth anniversary portrays him as “beloved in Iran and the pride of Pakistan.” Known there as Iqbal Lahori, he enjoys a stature accorded to few foreign intellectuals. Tehran’s Iqbal Lahori Street is another reminder that Iqbal’s ideas continue to resonate beyond Pakistan’s borders.
My own encounters with Iqbal’s global stature have been revealing. During a visit to Munich in 1988, I was pleasantly surprised to see a monument dedicated to Iqbal, a reminder that his influence extends far beyond South Asia. Equally significant was my late father, Dr Moizuddin’s role in establishing the Iqbal Chair at Cambridge University in 1982. The initiative reflected recognition that Iqbal’s thought merited rigorous academic study at one of the world’s foremost centres of learning. Ironically, while institutions abroad continue to honour and study Iqbal, many Pakistanis know only fragments of his intellectual legacy. The issue extends beyond poetry. Nations are sustained not merely by institutions and economies but by shared values, historical awareness and civic responsibility. An education system that produces credentials without character, information without judgment and ambition without responsibility cannot generate the leadership required for national development.
The relevance of Iqbal today lies not in nostalgia but in policy. His message points towards educational reform, scientific advancement, intellectual openness and ethical governance. He rejected both blind imitation of the West and uncritical traditionalism. Instead, he championed intellectual independence, creativity and renewal. As Pakistan marks another Iqbal Day, the most meaningful tribute would be to engage seriously with his ideas rather than merely celebrate his memory. Pakistan does not lack talent, resources or potential. What it increasingly lacks is a coherent intellectual framework linking education, citizenship, ethics, governance and development. In many respects, the crisis confronting Pakistan today is the very crisis Iqbal warned against: the separation of knowledge from character, faith from reason and patriotism from public service. Recovering his vision is therefore not an exercise in nostalgia but a prerequisite for national renewal.
Iqbal’s roadmap remains before us. The challenge is not whether he provided answers. The challenge is whether we possess the wisdom, intellectual honesty and political will to apply them. Until then, we will continue to celebrate Iqbal the poet while neglecting Iqbal the nation-builder, economist, reformer and strategist. His message was never meant merely to be recited; it was meant to be translated into educational reform, public policy and collective action. That remains Pakistan’s unfinished task.
—The writer is an Air Force veteran, defence analyst and author of several books on China.([email protected])
