This post is also going to be taken from Al-Muʿjizah Iʿādat Qirāʾat by Dr Saeh who explains that Surah al-Muddaththir caused a major shock to the Arabs when it was first revealed. It introduced many new words they had never heard before, and used old words in ways they had never imagined. This short surah (less than two pages) had at least 84 new or unfamiliar words—about a third of the surah.
Some words were completely new in sound and meaning. Others were familiar but used in new ways. Even simple grammar particles were used differently than what Arabs were used to. Some words became powerful Islamic terms we still use today, though the Arabs had never used them like this before Islam.
The surah also used language expressively and figuratively, with metaphors and images that were fresh and unexpected. All of this—new words, new meanings, new uses, and strong imagery—hit the Arabs suddenly. The Prophet, who had never studied language formally, came with speech that left expert poets and linguists stunned. Surah al-Muddaththir shows how the Quran changed the Arabic language and made it something completely new.
The Linguistic Shock of the Quran
In 1996, I called, from the platform of Oxford Academy, to hold a conference that we convened in Kuala Lumpur in cooperation with the International Islamic University Malaysia under the title “The Arabic Language and the Challenges of the Twenty-First Century.” In the paper Dr Saeh presented at the conference, he included a passage taken from an article published in Asharq Al-Awsat newspaper, in order to demonstrate that most of the words in that passage could not be found in our dictionaries, whether the classical ones or the modern.
Among the participants in the conference was Dr. Abdullah al-Dannan, who is a rare linguistic genius. He supervised the Arabic-language editing of the Arab-American programme Iftah Ya Simsim, only to be stunned when the production company insisted that the second part of the programme be produced in four regional colloquial dialects, on the pretext that formal Arabic (fusha) was too difficult for children.
In response, he resolved to raise another child of his, starting from birth, never speaking to him except in formal Arabic, leaving the colloquial speech solely to the mother. Through this astonishing experiment, he proved, beyond all expectation, the ease with which children learn fusha, their love for it, their fluency in it, and the passion it awakened in them to read everything written in it.
Dr Saeh says he still remembers how he played for them a short passage, throwing a challenge to the great linguists of the past: that if they were to be resurrected from their graves, they would not understand a thing of it. Inspired by these two texts, and drawing from the reality of our daily linguistic life.
The Quran’s Proclamation
The Quran’s declaration dawned upon the Arabs overnight, was not simply a flow of new vocabulary that swept over them while they slumbered on a treasure of words untouched by change or renewal for decades, perhaps centuries.
Rather, the Quran’s proclamation brought with it not only a new lexicon, but linguistic ingots never before known to them, and never to be known again. It introduced structures and expressions wholly unfamiliar, grammatical particles carrying meanings and functions that were new to them, syntactic relations alien to their usage, rhetorical images foreign to their imagination, and ideas whose dimensions vastly exceeded the limits of their inherited cultural environment.
All of this astonishing linguistic upheaval unfolded in no more time than it took for a simple, unlettered man to leave his house, who, for forty years of his life, had never read, written, or composed a single line, even a few plain words, and withdraw alone for the span of a day or part of a day in the Cave of Hira, a few miles from Mecca. He then returned to his people carrying the first drops of the divine proclamation’s rainfall, reciting to them the opening verses of revelation: “Recite in the name of your Lord who created…” and “O you who is wrapped up, arise and warn…” and “O you who is enfolded, stand through the night, except a little…”
What reactions, then, might we expect in the hearts of the pre-Islamic Arabs when faced with this sudden flood of language that stormed upon them from where they did not anticipate? How would their linguistic and cultural faculties, so limited and conditioned by their environment, deal with this enormous surge in both quantity and substance that composed the layers of this linguistic meteor crashing down upon them from the sky?
Would they, like Sibawayh standing bewildered before the Department of Transport’s announcement cloaked in new vocabulary and obscure constructions, stop in confusion before the texts of this new proclamation? Or would their crisis run deeper, more perilous, confronting a revelation whose innovation transcended mere vocabulary to include new linguistic ingots, new expressions, new particles, new structures, new rhetorical relationships, and an entirely new civilisational frame of reference?
New Vocabulary in Surah al-Muddaththir
Despite the risk inherent in confronting the Arabs, at the very dawn of the message, with vocabulary they had never heard before, and the potential consequences of such a linguistic shock for their understanding of the religion or their acceptance of the initial expressions of this heavenly message, the Quran, with a confidence unmatched, did not shy away from using these unfamiliar terms. This included those early verses and surahs revealed at the beginning of the Prophet’s mission.
Thus, we find that Surah al-Muddaththir, one of the earliest surahs by which revelation encountered the Arabs, is replete with such new vocabulary and expressions.
Though the surah is less than two pages long and contains no more than 256 words, we can identify within it at least 84 terms that were new. That is nearly one third of the surah.
Among these, no fewer than 14 words are entirely new to the Arabic speaker at the time. Either they were new in root, structure, and meaning altogether, or they were new in structure and meaning even if the root had been known before. These include:
al-rijz (الرِّجْز) – a new term, meaning idols or punishment
al-naqur (النَّاقُور) – a new morphological pattern, referring to the trumpet blown by Israfil
suudan (سُودَان) – a new form and a new meaning, said to be the name of a mountain in Hell
basara (بَسَرَ) – a new word, meaning to frown or scowl
lawwaaha lil-bashar (لَوَّاحَةٌ لِلْبَشَرِ) – a new meaning, either altering skin colour or being visible to people
malaaikah (مَلَائِكَة) – a new word, derived from a root meaning to send
ootu (أُوتُوا) – a new form and meaning, meaning “were given”
al-kubaar (الكُبَار) – a new plural of kubraa
al-mujrimeen (الْمُجْرِمِينَ) – a form not found with this meaning in pre-Islamic poetry
salakakum (سَلَكَكُمْ) – a new morphological form, meaning “caused you to enter”
saqar (سَقَر) – a new word, referring to Hell
mustanfirah (مُسْتَنفِرَة) – a new form and meaning, meaning frightened or fleeing
qaswarah (قَسْوَرَة) – a new word, meaning lion or archers
al-maghfirah (الْمَغْفِرَة) – a new morphological form
Old Words with New Meanings
As for those words in the surah which were known to Arabs before revelation but were given new meanings in the Quran, used in unfamiliar ways, or substituted for other known terms, we find at least 38 such examples:
qum (قُمْ) – meaning to begin or initiate
fa-andhir (فَأَنْذِرْ) – meaning to deliver the message
fa-kabbir (فَكَبِّرْ) – meaning to glorify and worship
li-rabbik (لِرَبِّكَ) – meaning for the sake of carrying His message
nuqira (نُقِرَ) – meaning to produce a loud, overwhelming sound
waheedan (وَحِيدًا) – used in place of the plural “wahideen”
mamduudan (مَمْدُودًا) – used instead of “kathīran” meaning much
mahdtu (مَهَّدْتُ) – meaning “I made his life easy”, with the object omitted
aneedan (عَنِيدًا) – used instead of “muʿānidan” meaning stubborn
qutila (قُتِلَ) – a new usage, either as a supplication or a foretelling of punishment
qaddara (قَدَّرَ) – used instead of “gave an opinion” or “passed judgement”
yuʾthir (يُؤْثِرُ) – used instead of “to study” or “to inherit”
lā tubqī (لَا تُبْقِي) – meaning “leaves nothing”, with object omitted
wa lā tadhar (وَلَا تَذَرُ) – meaning “does not leave behind anything”, with object omitted
ʿalayhā tisʿata ʿashar (عَلَيْهَا تِسْعَةَ عَشَرَ) – meaning “over it are nineteen”, replacing the idea of governance or responsibility
aṣḥāb al-nār (أَصْحَابُ النَّارِ) – substituting “guardians” or “keepers”
ʿiddatuhum (عِدَّتُهُمْ) – used instead of “their number”
fitnah (فِتْنَةً) – replacing “difficult test” or, according to some, “punishment”
li-yastayqin (لِيَسْتَيْقِنَ) – meaning to become certain in faith
maraḍ (مَرَضٌ) – used for doubt or hypocrisy
mathalan (مَثَلًا) – meaning “lesson” or “story”
dhikrā (ذِكْرَىٰ) – meaning “reminder”, replacing “reminding”
yataqaddam (يَتَقَدَّمْ) – used in place of “believe” or “be saved”
yata-akhkhar (يَتَأَخَّرْ) – used in place of “disbelieve” or “perish”
kasabat (كَسَبَتْ) – used instead of “acted” or “committed”
rahīnah (رَهِينَةٌ) – used for “held accountable” or “responsible”
aṣḥāb al-yamīn (أَصْحَابُ الْيَمِينِ) – where “yamīn” substitutes for “right” or “victory”
jannāt (جَنَّاتٍ) – referring to Paradise, not worldly gardens
yatasāʾalūn (يَتَسَاءَلُونَ) – used instead of “ask one another” or “question”
al-miskīn (الْمِسْكِينِ) – with a new meaning, as the Arabs knew it to mean “very still”
nakhūḍu (نَخُوضُ) – meaning “to speak evil”
al-khāʾiḍīn (الْخَائِضِينَ) – a new meaning, referring to those who indulge in evil speech
nukadhdhibu bi-yawm al-dīn (نُكَذِّبُ بِيَوْمِ الدِّينِ) – the verb structure here replaces other common constructions
yawm al-dīn (يَوْمِ الدِّينِ) – meaning the Day of Judgement
atānā al-yaqīn (أَتَانَا الْيَقِينُ) – meaning death or the Resurrection
ʿani al-tadhkirah (عَنِ التَّذْكِرَةِ) – used instead of “listening to the new call”
huwa ahl al-taqwā wa ahl al-maghfirah (هُوَ أَهْلُ التَّقْوَىٰ وَأَهْلُ الْمَغْفِرَةِ) – where “ahl” replaces the more explicit phrasing of “worthy of” or “possessor of”
A careful examination of these words, both the entirely new and the old used in new ways, reveals that many of them derive their new meanings from the surrounding vocabulary or from the context in which they appear. The context cannot be separated from the word.
For example, we would not have understood that li-rabbik means “for the sake of your Lord’s message” without the surrounding words: wa li-rabbika fasbir.
Nor would we have known that ashaab refers to guards or keepers rather than owners or possessors without the verse: wa maa ja’alna ashaab al-naar illa malaaikah wa maa ja’alna iddatahum illa fitnah.
Likewise, marad, if stripped of its context, would not be understood as doubt or weakness in faith rather than physical illness.
We would not have understood al-yameen to mean victory or the righteous without the verse in which it appears. The meaning emerges from context, not from the isolated word.
If some linguists could debate the Quran’s creation of entirely new vocabulary, perhaps fearing the objections raised by those opposed to recognising Quran’s originality, how could they possibly dispute the Quran’s transformation of known words into new meanings? And if even this linguistic renewal could be contested, how could any of them deny the uniqueness of Quran’s expression, or the originality and resistance to imitation of its linguistic constructions?
The New Terminology in al-Muddaththir
Often, the words in the Qur’an advance to a more established and developed stage: they become terminology. These are words whose novelty and Quran’s origin may be hidden from us today because of their widespread use in our language. They have become a core structure of our modern Islamic vocabulary, dominant since that early period in both formal and everyday speech.
Surah al-Muddaththir contains many such original Quran’s terms, which the Arabs had never known before the revelation. But to discover this, we must strip our memory of the influence of centuries of usage. We must imagine how the earliest Arabs would have received this surge of unfamiliar terms, and how they managed to understand them through the context in which they appeared, despite the novelty of the meanings that Islam brought.
Without this act of stripping away our habitual memory, we fall into the trap of familiarity and tell ourselves: where is the novelty in this term or word? What difficulty could it possibly pose?
In al-Muddaththir, we can identify at least eleven of these new Islamic terms:
al-muddaththir (الْمُدَّثِّر) – a title for the Prophet, originally meaning “wrapped in garments”
kafaroo (كَفَرُوا) – meaning “rejected the message of Islam”, originally “covered”
aamanoo (آمَنُوا) – meaning “embraced Islam”, originally “believed” or “affirmed”
imaanan (إِيمَانًا) – meaning “submission to Islam”, originally “belief”
al-mu’minoon (الْمُؤْمِنُونَ) – meaning “Muslims”, originally “those who affirm”
al-kaafiroon (الْكَافِرُونَ) – meaning “idolaters”, originally “those who cover or deny”
yudillu Allah (يُضِلُّ اللَّهُ) – meaning “prevents from faith”, originally “leads astray”
yahdee (يَهْدِي) – meaning “grants faith”, originally “guides the way”
junood rabbik (جُنُودُ رَبِّكَ) – a term meaning “angels”
al-musalleen (الْمُصَلِّينَ) – meaning “those who perform the five daily prayers”
al-taqwa (التَّقْوَىٰ) – meaning “awareness of God to avoid His punishment”, originally “to avoid harm”
The Expressive Word in Surah al-Muddaththir
Lastly, there are words whose novelty comes not from meaning or form alone, but from the expressive or figurative power they carry. These are words shaped by metaphor, image, or imaginative connection between them and their surrounding context.
In al-Muddaththir, there are at least seven of this type:
wa thiyaabaka fa-tahhir (وثيابك فطهر) — meaning “purify yourself”, as in the metaphor “clean garments” for inner purity.
sa-urhiquhu su’oodaa (سأرهقه صعودا) — meaning “I shall make him suffer with a torment like climbing a steep mountain”.
al-rijz fa-hjur (والرجز فاهجر) — meaning “abandon idols that lead to torment”.
adbara (أدبر) — meaning “turned away”, a metaphor for rejecting faith.
sa-uslihi saqar (سأصليه سقر) — meaning “I will make him enter the fire of Hell”.
kafaroo (كفروا) — understood metaphorically as “their minds were veiled”.
wa al-subh idha asfar (والصبح إذا أسفر) — meaning “the morning as it reveals its face from under the night”.
New Use of Particles in Surah al-Muddaththir
Beyond vocabulary, the surah introduces no fewer than fourteen novel uses of common Arabic particles, as seen with kana and ma zaala.
The coordinating particle fa, which usually connects two verbs or nouns, comes in three consecutive verses in unusual placement, between a fronted object and its delayed verb: wa rabbaka fa-kabbir, wa thiyaabaka fa-tahhir, wa al-rijza fa-hjur. Then again in wa li-rabbika fa-sbir, connecting an object and its related element.
The response particle kalla, usually meaning “no”, here conveys rebuke or possibly even affirmation in four verses: 16, 32, 53, and 54.
The coordinating particle thumma appears for the first time to carry the meaning of intensification or emphasis rather than mere succession, as in verse 20: qutila kayfa qaddara, thumma qutila kayfa qaddara.
Even the interrogative kayfa in these two verses does not function as a question or a descriptor of state, but seems closer to a noun clause, as if the entire phrase means: “he was killed for how he estimated”, or “he was punished as a consequence of his scheming”.
The particle inna is used with the meaning of “ma” (negation) in verses 24 and 25: fa-qaala in haadha illa sihrun yu’thar, in haadha illa qawlu al-bashar, meaning “this is nothing but…”.
This is a rare construction not found in pre-Islamic poetry. Grammarians who tried to justify it in classical language quote weak or unattributed examples such as inna ahadan khayrun min ahad illa bil-‘aafiyah or inna dhaalika naafi’uka wa laa daaruka, but these cannot outweigh the Quran’s usage.
The particle an shifts meaning in verse 41: fi jannaatin yatasaaloon ‘an al-mujrimeen ma salakakum fi saqar. Here, an seems almost superfluous, and the phrase yatasaaloon ‘an al-mujrimeen becomes more like a direct address: “They ask the criminals, what brought you into Hell?” The shift from third person to second person that follows reinforces this interpretive turn.
There is no doubt that the presence of 84 new words or terms in a short, early surah like this would have caused a linguistic shock not unlike that which struck Utbah ibn Rabi’ah when he heard the first thirteen verses of Surah Fussilat from the Prophet. He returned to his people stunned, unable to comprehend what he had just heard.
Now imagine adding to this linguistic load the dozens of new constructions, expressions, and rhetorical images that appeared in the surah. Add also the intellectual and cultural dimensions woven into these linguistic innovations. What kind of astonishment, what kind of transformative impact, must this have had on the Arab ear?
