I have unfolded the wisdom of the people of faith; now learn the wisdom of the people of malice. (People of malice, as distinguished from the people of faith, who pass their days totally divorced from the spiritual reality of life and are therefore involved only in material welfare, regard moral values absolutely irrelevant. The result is total moral anarchy in social life. Iqbal employs this contrast in several contexts.)

The wisdom of the people of malice is deceit and artifice; what are deceit and artifice? They destroy the soul and build the body.

This is wisdom that has freed itself from faith’s bonds and has strayed far away from the station of Love. (Station of love (maqam-i shauq) is loyalty to the spiritual values of life.)

The school follows in his (Pharaoh’s) ways so that the servant learns to think in line with the master’s desires.

The religious leader of the millat, in a charming way, reinterprets religion to his (Pharaoh’s) liking.

The unity of the people is sundered through his machinations; nothing can withstand him except Moses’ Staff. (Moses’ Staff is a reference to events in the life-history of Moses, where his staff helped him overcome the crises, first in combating the deceit of the magicians and then in crossing the river when pursued by Pharaoh and his hosts... Moses’ Staff, in Iqbal, therefore, stands for power, might, without acquiring which the people of the exploited societies cannot hope to meet successfully the challenge of the West, both political and economic.’

Woe to a people that, prey to others’ stratagems, destroy themselves and build up others.

They gain knowledge of science and art, but remain unaware of their own self-identity.

They erase the Lord’s impress from their signet; aspirations arise in their heart only to die away. (Lord’s impress, naqsh-i Haqq, God’s image. It stands for voluntary submission to God’s Will)

They are not blessed with a progeny imbued with a sense of honour; their children have souls in their bodies like corpses in graves.

Their old people lack modesty; the young are busy decking themselves out like women-folk.

The desires that spring from their hearts are unstable; they are born dead from the wombs of their mothers.

Their daughters are caught in the snares of their curling locks, bold-eyed, fond of display and carping;

Well-dressed, with exquisite make-up, coquettish; their eyebrows like two unsheathed swords;

Their white silvery forearms pleasing to the eyes; their bosoms showing like fish in water.

A nation whose ashes are devoid of any live spark, whose morn is darker than its eve.

It is always in search of material goods, its only preoccupation is anxiety for livelihood and fear of death.

Its rich are miserly, pleasure-loving, intent upon seeking the shell, and neglectful of the kernel. (Kernel and shell: The distinction of what is visible, what appears to the eye, the apparent, the external and what is real, the hidden, the essence, is very much relevant in moral evaluation of one’s behaviour. Rumi has discussed this problem in hundred different contexts in which he tries to bring home to the people the value of the kernel in contrast to the shell, the intention behind one’s action rather than the action as it appears to our eyes.)

The might of its ruler is the object of its adoration, in loss of faith and belief lies its gain.

It never looks beyond its today and never creates a tomorrow for itself. (Iqbal thinks that a true leader is one who produces dissatisfaction among the people about the present and urges them on to a brighter and better future.)

It has the annals of its ancestors under its arms, but, alas! It only discourses on them without acting on them.

Its creed is to offer loyalty to others, to build temples with the material of the mosque.

Alas! For a nation which has cut itself adrift from God, which is dead, but does not know that it is dead.