“Hold your tongue, let your heart speak”, said Al-Ghazali, a towering 12th-century Islamic scholar, philosopher and mystic whose teachings bridged theology and Sufism; in the tranquility of Ramadan, this counsel reverberates with a centuries-old echo.
In Al-Ghazali’s "Disasters of the Tongue," the warning that lies, gossip and idle talk cast a shadow over the soul finds profound meaning in this month when fasting disciplines not only the body but also the tongue. Within the silent depths of Sufism, freeing oneself from excessive speech beckons the heart to a state of peace. Penned 900 years ago, these words offer a sanctuary against the clamor of the modern world through Ramadan.
Al-Ghazali’s teaching isn’t merely a quest for individual virtue but also a road map for reconciling oneself with one’s surroundings. Ramadan serves as the clearest mirror of this path – a time when the tongue falls silent, and the heart begins to speak.
Al-Ghazali, in the “Disasters of the Tongue” – a pivotal section of his masterpiece "Ihya-u Ulumiddin" ("Revival of the Religious Sciences") that explores the moral and spiritual perils of unchecked speech – emphasizes that one of the greatest adversaries of the human soul is unrestrained expression. Here, “disasters” refer to the destructive consequences of sins like lying, backbiting and idle chatter, which Al-Ghazali sees as afflictions that corrupt both the individual and society. He writes, “The tongue is among the artistic marvels created by Allah the Exalted; though small in size, its deeds surpass all other organs of the body,” adding, “The eternal bliss or ruin of a person – through faith or disbelief – is affirmed by the tongue’s confession.” Lies distort the truth, gossip spreads like a venomous shadow through society, and idle words act as a trap that silences the heart and dulls the mind. “The tongue is the mirror of the heart,” Al-Ghazali asserts; if the tongue is tainted, the heart is condemned to darkness.
Ramadan stands as a significant month for confronting these afflictions; fasting calms the body by closing the mouth, while the silence of the tongue liberates the soul.
Al-Ghazali notes that the tongue can be a conduit to infinite good or infinite evil. “Such a tongue becomes the voice of Satan and transforms into a destructive tool worse than a bomb,” he warns. Sufi practitioners turn to this silence in pursuit of truth, for, as Al-Ghazali teaches, only when the tongue is stilled does the heart begin to speak.
This principle finds its most profound application in Ramadan. Ramadan has been one of Sufism’s most powerful teachers for centuries. Fasting tests a person not only with hunger but also with silence. Al-Ghazali’s admonition, “An evil word is like a burning ember; it scorches both the speaker and the listener,” resonates anew at iftar tables, during Tarawih prayers, and in the supplications of sahur. This month is a season of purification not just for the body but for the soul; the silencing of the tongue opens a gateway to one’s inner world.
In the modern era, where the ceaseless noise of social media and the rush of daily life drown out this counsel, Ramadan’s serenity offers a way out. Ramadan is an opportunity to live this wisdom; purging the tongue of its afflictions prepares the heart for peace. As the silence rises in the streets before iftar and prayers are recited under the dim light of sahur, the preciousness of this month’s fasting of the tongue becomes evident. Al-Ghazali’s teaching guides every moment of Ramadan, where meaning flourishes as words diminish.
We live in an age of disinformation, where the modern world mirrors the very afflictions Al-Ghazali cautioned against. On social media, waves of slander and gossip surge incessantly; television screens overflow with empty chatter. "Disasters of the Tongue" stands as a compass amid this chaos. Though the book does not explicitly mention modern phenomena like online gossip, cyberbullying or the spread of fake news, Al-Ghazali’s stark declaration, “Backbiting is like eating the flesh of your dead brother,” prompts reflection on the gravity of words that wound others in the digital realm.
In Ramadan, those who resolve to distance themselves from these habits may withdraw from screens, arguments and needless conversations, turning inward. Sufism describes this shift as an “inward journey”; the silencing of the tongue is the gateway to truth. Al-Ghazali’s lines pose a question to modern humanity: “Do we exhaust ourselves with our words, or do we come alive by holding them back?” Amid today’s barrage of information, Ramadan provides a respite – a space to mute the noise of screens, retreat from the tongue’s afflictions and return to one’s essence.
Al-Ghazali asserts that controlling one's expression is among the foremost indicators of disciplining the self. “He who cannot restrain his tongue cannot tame his ego,” he states, presenting silence as a form of resistance against modern noise.
Ramadan is the ideal time for Al-Ghazali's guidance. “If a person restrains his tongue, Allah conceals his faults,” Al-Ghazali promises – not merely a moral lesson but a portal to divine mercy. This subtle path of Sufism, though it may seem foreign to the modern world, lies hidden in every corner of Ramadan. In the fleeting silence of iftar tables, the recitation of the Quran in mosque courtyards, or the circles of remembrance, those who free themselves from the tongue’s afflictions discover the heart’s tranquility.
Al-Ghazali’s teaching reveals that remaining silent isn’t just a personal virtue but also fosters societal healing; halting gossip closes a wound, and stopping a lie builds trust.
Other Sufi masters have carried this torch across centuries. Sufi philosopher Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi advised, “Weigh your words before you speak”; Yunus Emre, a 13th-century Turkish poet and Sufi, sang, “A word can end a war, a word can sever a head”; and Haji Bektash Veli, a 13th-century Anatolian mystic, taught, “The heat is in the fire, not the pan,” emphasizing the primacy of the heart over the tongue.
Ramadan’s stillness carries Al-Ghazali’s voice from 900 years ago to the present. “Hold your tongue, let your heart speak” encapsulates the essence of Sufism: a truth concealed in silence. For those wearied by the modern world’s din, this month is a refuge; Al-Ghazali’s words, a guide.
His emphasis on “controlling the tongue as a means of disciplining the self” deepens this dimension of Ramadan; one who cannot curb their tongue cannot rein in their ego. Those who live this teaching in Ramadan may find an answer to Al-Ghazali’s question: “Do we sully ourselves with our words, or purify ourselves by withholding them?” The heart’s awakening begins with the tongue’s silence – this is Al-Ghazali’s Ramadan gift. This other facet of fasting, a light for those seeking not the hunger of the body but the satiety of the soul, shines forth.
For those seeking not just the hunger of the body but the satiety of the soul, Al-Ghazali’s wisdom is a guiding light through the silence of Ramadan.
