“There will then be a perfect correspondence between the interior and the exterior, and the work produced can then become the expression… of him who conceived and executed it, and it will then constitute a masterpiece in the true sense of the word.”1
Sacred art is a conduit for self-refinement and Divine knowledge. Three years ago, I began searching Cairo for what remained of the sacred art traditions that once thrived in the Islamic world. This search led me to artisans and master craftsmen whose understanding of art challenged many modern assumptions about beauty, work and spirituality.
For centuries, traditional craftsmanship in the Islamic world was understood and practiced primarily as a spiritual discipline. The technical practice of a craft was inseparable from the cultivation of the artisan himself. To master a craft was also to master one’s character.
This system was preserved through specialised guilds organised around the shaykh of the craft (i.e. guild master). Dr. Khaled Azab, scholar and expert on Islamic architecture and crafts, explains that “crafts were based on a hierarchy which mirrored that of the Sufi spiritual orders.”2 The guild master was also the spiritual leader of that order or craft. To his followers, the shaykh was both transmitter of traditional knowledge and cultivator of character. Craft was just one exterior dimension of an interior process: soul-purification.
As traditional Islamic artisans produced their craft, they were instructed by their shaykh to invoke Allah’s Divine Names and recite prayers upon Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. The rhythmic back-and-forth of the craft and continuous invocations mimic the cycle of beginning and end, pointing to a central thread of Islam ‘inna lilah wa inna ilih raji’oun’ (we belong to Allah, and to Him we return).
This regular dhikr (remembrance) reflected the craftsmen’s attempts to enter into sekina (divine presence) as they worked raw material. The inward process of self-discipline was mirrored outwardly in the precision, skill and patience required to mould clay, shape wood and carve rock.
If the artisan engaged with the craft then the shaykh opened the door that allowed for knowledge (i.e. spirituality) to become a lived reality. This was an awakening of the dormant potential within each artisan for ihsan (excellence).3 A craft was the alchemical process by which a double transformation occurred: raw material became a masterpiece and the artisan became a master of his own nafs (ego/soul) and his craft.
Although traditional guilds no longer exist, I discovered in Cairo that their legacy didn’t completely disappear. I encountered people who still hold the seeds of sacred arts. Through them I saw that crafts still offer more than just the technical aspects: they remain to be a path of beauty, ihsan and remembrance of Allah.
Learning Through Transmission
“Calligraphy is spiritual geometry which manifests through a physical instrument.”
— Imam Ali ibn Abi Talib
Mostafa Emary is one of Egypt’s most respected master calligraphers. He lives, works and creates with the profundity of the Arabic language. As the language of the Quran, Arabic is a bridge to higher meanings. For Muslims it is a linguistic key to understanding enduring spiritual truths, ones that reveal a soul’s innermost dimensions and support pursuit of remembrance and self-struggle. As both signifier and signified, Arabic conveys and contains meanings in both form and meaning.
Mostafa Emary hails from a long line of licensed calligraphers. As one of Egypt’s most respected traditional artists, Emary learned from some of his craft’s master teachers. Taking from both their hands and character, he contends an Arabic calligraphy teacher’s greatest attribute is in the psychological influence masters have on their students.
Through the unspoken bond between master and disciple, influence extends beyond physical presence. At their best, teachers enable students to continue learning and drawing inspiration from their guidance even after their passing.
This was true about Emary’s primary teachers, shaykh of Egyptian calligraphers, Mohamed AbdulQadir, Ustadh Husain Amin and Ustadh AbdulRahman Shoeib. Ustadh Shoeib embodied this ideal. For Emary, he was not simply focused on the technical aspects of calligraphy, he acted as a father figure and a mentor.
Calligraphy: Knowledge Through Forms
”The [original] function of writing is to realise the hidden [truth].”
— Mostafa Emary.
Traditional Arabic calligraphy pieces have a centre, a principal key, so to speak. This central part is the most prominent writing around which the entire piece revolves. Emary calls this the ‘main axis.’ This determines script, dip pen thickness, colour and even ornamentation of empty space. Emary begins every piece with this axial element.
A piece’s main axis is determined by the work’s overall meaning, Emary explained. And any piece has two meanings: one outward and another inward. The outward is the external visible image; the inward meaning is an individual’s experience in the piece. Emary emphasises inward meaning – “This is like a message, with a transmitter – [the calligrapher] – and a receiver.” Calligraphy offers a taste just as we experience eating an orange directly from a grove or unprocessed honey straight from the comb. The texture, sweetness and wholesomeness all invite us to see the difference between the rational knowledge and the direct experience of eating the orange or tasting the honey.
On the Prominence of Language
“Verbal letters are shaped in air…, which continues to hold them even when their effect expires… and on Judgement Day, such words return to testify for or against their speaker.”
— Al-Shaykh al-Akbar Muhiy al-Din Ibn Arabi
Allah created the Heavens and Earth through a word kun كن (even the whole of the universe (kawn كون) is a derivative of that word); and the Quran is the Uncreated Word of Allah.4 Similarly, any human who utters (with conviction) the shahada (divine testimony) becomes Muslim. The voice is fleeting.5 The Quran was to be recorded through writing in a form that could reflect its stature and correspond to the quality of vocal recitation. It is no wonder Quranic recitation is linked to calligraphy as Islam’s highest ranking visual art.6 The faculty of speech illustrates the human being’s revered status for speaking resembles one of the highest Divine Acts: Creating.7
“Beauty and meaning precede form”, Emary explained as one of Arabic calligraphy’s first principles. The visual form (i.e. shapes of letters) of a word points beyond its outward cloak. Shapes of words contain hidden meanings, veiled by their outer layer. While corresponding to one another, the inward meaning dictates the outward shape. Take for instance, the Supreme Name: الله. Whatever letters one removes, reference to the Elevated Divine Essence remains. Removing any letter from the Supreme Name still points to the Supreme Ipseity (الهوية), albeit viewed from a different station: الله, لله, له, هو.
Hidden Meanings and Apparent Forms
وَلَا تَزِرُ وَازِرَةٌ وِزْرَ أُخْرَىٰ | “No burdened soul can carry the burden of another.”
— Qur’an 35:18
According to Emary, Verse 18 of Surah Fatir conveys a meaning in its written form. In the verse above, the Arabic letters of the words are not connected; they remain separate from each other ( تَزِرُ وَازِرَةٌ وِزْرَ). This disconnected appearance points to the meaning embedded within the verse. On Judgement Day, one will be judged for their own actions alone; they will not carry another’s burdens or misdeeds irrespective of how close in relation (mother and child for example). They will be judged separately. As a symbol of the intimate and perfect Divine Knowledge, even the most outward/visual shape of letters of the Holy Quran point to that reality of Divine Justice.
Allah created humans to know Him. Al-Shaykh al-Akbar Ibn Arabi, explains the human pursuit: to know what He wants from us in every moment through tajdid al-khalq bil-nafas – the renewal and sustenance of existence through Divine Breath. At all times, new-born manifestations transpire to draw a seeker’s attention. Arabic letters and words point to these uninterrupted and (often) very subtle tajjaliyat (theophanies) which continuously sustain our existence and universe.
Emary’s practice demonstrates how each Arabic letter (and their combinations) conveys these cosmic movements and tajjaliyat in the letter’s shape. When words are spelled or verses written the cosmic order is manifested.
كُلٌّ فِي فَلَكٍ – “Each in an orbit” (21:33)
Whether read from right to left or vice versa, each in an orbit, the same three words, remain. The letter ي rests in the middle, creating a balance between the two sides (each reading the word: فلك orbit). or better yet the letter ي serves as the centre, gravitational point which organises everything around it. As the verse informs us, everything moves or halts according to a precise scale.
This Divine Wisdom inspires an artisan’s discipline. “The pen was only called a ‘qalam’ because of its ordering [functions]”, Emary pointed out. A good pen brings discipline to letters, allowing the calligrapher to express higher meanings, beautifully and geometrically. Qalam (pen) is of the same root as the word qallam, the process of pruning (a tree/plant) in which branches are clipped if they bear disease or prevent the growth of a tree. Similarly, the process of self-disciplining (riyadat al-nafs) and spiritual elevation can only bring the best out of a human being.
Care and maintenance of the pen – amongst other tools spiritual and material – is crucial. Emary wipes his bamboo pen after writing, diligently every time. This prevents the accumulation of ink on the tip of the pen. This ruins the script, he told me. “Between the transmitter [the calligrapher] and the receiver, the tools are the wasit (intermediary agent).” The pen and ink pot draw out higher meanings latent within us. The artisan’s tools correspond to his willpower, practices and knowledge that connect him to the Divine.
We can never know the limits of Divine Perfection. Traditional artisans, like Emary, draw new-born meanings they encounter through their work. “I sense unseen Divine support when I teach as I get to reveal the hidden meanings of calligraphy”, Emary said with joy.
Footnotes
- René Guénon, The Reign of Quantity and the Signse of the Times, Sophia Perennnis, p.60 ↩︎
- Personal interview with Dr Khaled Azab in August 2025. ↩︎
- In Hadith-Jibril, one of the most fundamental hadiths concerning the Islamic doctrine, the Prophet Muhammad (may the blessings of Allah be upon him and his family) explains that ihsan is to worship Allah as if you see Him, but if you cannot do that, then know that He can see you. The hadith outlines ihsan as the highest aspiration for all Muslims – excellence that can be permeate through all aspects of one’s existence: material, psychological and spiritual. ↩︎
- Martin Lings, What is Sufism?, Islamic Texts Society, Cambridge, UK. ↩︎
- Spoken words may be fleeting relative to our hearing but can’t be modified once they are uttered. Al-Shaykh al-Akbar reveals that verbal letters الحروف اللفظية remain in existence until the end of times, testifying for or against their speaker. Al-Shaykh al-Akbar says that ahl al-kashf (the people of unveiling) see such realities wherever they go – what words were spoken and their impact upon the place. The superiority of the spoken word over the written text has been acknowledged in various cultures; one of the earliest (surviving) Western examples can be found in a Socratic dialogue, Phaedrus. ↩︎
- Martin Lings. Splendours of Quran Calligraphy and Illumination, Thames & Hudson Ltd. ↩︎
- Shaykh Abdul Wahhab al-Sha’rani, Lawaqih al-Anwar al-Qudsiya al-Muntaqah min al-Futuhat al-Makkiyya.. Part I of III, p.194. ↩︎
