From Springtime Unity to Decisive Schism
The previous article highlighted the dazzling dawn that followed Muhammad’s Revelation: literacy, law, social justice, and the birth of a united ummah. No sooner had the Prophet passed from this world, however, than the Islamic community experienced a rupture that was both immediate and fateful—a break whose wounds, unlike earlier faiths where division usually took generations, appeared in the Prophet’s very generation.
Muhammad had called his followers to “hold fast to the rope of God, all together, and be not divided”
“And hold fast, all together, by the rope which God (stretches out for you), and be not divided among yourselves…”
—Qur’an 3:103 (Yusuf Ali)
Yet, upon his passing in 632 CE, the community faced a succession crisis: was religious and political authority (imamate, caliphate) to go to his close companion Abu Bakr, or to his cousin and son-in-law, Ali? In principle, this was not simply a question of leadership, but of the very soul and authority-structure of Islam. The division became so intense and all-consuming that, within a generation, the ummah would be permanently split into Shia and Sunni.
The Immediate and Irreversible Division
Unlike the gradual drift seen in Judaism or Christianity, the split within Islam was both:
- Decisive: The spiritual community built painstakingly during Muhammad’s life fracturing almost overnight. The result was not a slow drift, but immediate, tragic division and violence—culminating at Karbala, with the martyrdom of Hussein, the Prophet’s beloved grandson.
- Enduring: The Shia-Sunni division has never truly healed. Each group developed its own canon, law, traditions, and ultimately separate institutional worlds.
From this fissure, further splinters unfurled over time: Ismaili, Zaidi, Ibadi, Sufi, Salafi, and countless others—every form scrambling to claim proximity to the Prophet’s true intent, every school eventually institutionalizing difference until sectarian identity sometimes eclipsed the universal brotherhood at Islam’s core.
The Pattern Returns—Corruption, Conquest, and the Long Winter
Within a few centuries, Islam—like every previous divine revelation—encountered its own “fall and winter”:
- Political ambitions corrupted the caliphate. Dynasties rose and fell: Ummayad, Abbasid, Ottoman, Safavid. Rulers styled themselves as “representatives of the Prophet” while amassing worldly power and luxury.
- Religious authorities (ulama, jurists, Sufi leaders) became invested in preserving their own status, sometimes at the expense of the Revelation’s inclusive spirit.
- Legal schools hardened. Where Muhammad’s method was flexible (ijtihad, consultation, adaptation), later law petrified into unyielding fiqh, often inflexible on mercy, justice, and progress.
- Science and creativity, once hallmarks of Islamic civilization, were demoted in favor of rote memorization and institutional imitation.
- Minority voices and dissenters, including both rival sects and philosophical schools, were marginalized or at times violently suppressed.
- Religious pluralism—so prominent under Muhammad and the earliest caliphs—was narrowed, particularly under the pressure of crusades, invasions, and loss of imperial power.
Bahá’u’lláh, recognizing this universal sequence, observed:
“…with the passing of every Manifestation, and the decline of His authority… the fire of love and unity is quenched, the light of oneness is extinguished, and the host of discord and strife marches forward.”
—Kitáb-i-Íqán, par. 168 (official text)
The Monstrosity—A Tactful Honesty
To speak plainly, much that now wears the name “Islam” is a grotesque distortion of Muhammad’s vision:
- Grand mosques and sophisticated institutions mask endemic sectarian violence, misogyny, intolerance, and—at times—brutality in God’s name.
- The faith community called to be “a mercy for the worlds” is, in some quarters, seen instead as a force of terror, exclusion, or weaponized grievance—realities amplified (and sometimes exaggerated) by global media.
This is not to deny the vibrant faith of millions, the integrity of many scholars, the spiritual beauty alive in countless mosques, the role of Islam in art, science, and practical justice around the world. But, in honesty and love, we must admit that—as with late-Pharisaic Judaism, as with medieval Christianity—what claims the Prophet’s blessing today too often has drifted painfully far from the unity, justice, and mercy of its Founder.
Why Drift Is Inevitable—Bahá’í Perspective
Bahá’í teaching places this entire cycle in its proper, hopeful perspective:
- Every faith has a spring and summer of unity and fruitfulness, followed inevitably by an autumn of hardening and division, and a winter of apparent death.
- The Prophet’s teachings are pure and transforming; human selfishness, pride, political ambition, and historical crisis react to that revelation just as soil reacts to a seed—some nourishing, some strangling, some lying fallow until a later spring.
Just as a tree’s rings record summer and winter, so too every religion exhibits concentric circles of growth, retrenchment, stagnation, and eventual renewal.
Looking Toward the Next Cycle
The Prophet’s warning rings with fresh urgency today:
“Verily, this community of yours is one community, and I am your Lord, so worship Me.”
—Qur’an 21:92 (Sahih International)
The drift of Islam—so immediate, so decisive, so publicly tragic—stands as a living lesson for every faith, every age:
- Without humility, without constant remembrance of the Founder’s vision, even the most brilliant Revelation becomes unrecognizable beneath accretions of history, custom, and power.
- But this drift and dormancy, far from being mere loss, is also the compost of renewal—a necessary winter from which another divine spring will bloom.
The Awaited Spring
Next week: the ground is prepared for a new Manifestation and a new world order. From Islam’s autumn and winter, from the exhaustion of division and the longing for unity, the soil is readied for the Báb, for Bahá’u’lláh, and for the global renewal of Divine Civilization.
Questions for reflection:
- What are the signs of “winter” and drift in your spiritual heritage or community?
- How can we meet the pain of division and corruption with eyes open—not to despair, but to become fertile ground for the next chapter of renewal?
With hope,
—Wade Fransson
