The Guards and the Family of the King: A Metaphor for Sharia and Sufism
There has long been a well-known tension within the Muslim world — a tension that has at times created deep frictions that threatened to tear the ummah apart.
I am speaking of the two major traditions or “wings” of Islam: Sharia — traditional Islamic sciences — versus Tariqah — the Sufi, spiritual path. Over the centuries, there has been great respect between them, particularly in the middle ground, where many scholars have inhabited both worlds. Yet it is undeniable that there has also been misunderstanding and suspicion.
A well-known metaphor beautifully expresses the relationship between the two: Sharia is like the body of a human being, while Sufism is like its soul. Neither can survive without the other. Another metaphor is that Sharia represents the brain and Tariqah the heart; or that one represents the masculine side of faith and the other the feminine side. All of these images emphasize that the two traditions are not meant to compete but to complete one another.
While I was recently reflecting on this relationship, a very different image appeared to me in a spiritual vision — a short story that felt more vivid in its details, one that also happens to integrate all these other metaphors.
The Palace and Its Guardians
Imagine a powerful king with a family very dear to him — his children, his wife, his closest relatives. To protect and house them, he builds a magnificent palace. As all such palaces, this one too was designed so that the most precious ones were placed farthest from the outside world and its dangers, shielded by multiple layers of protection.
As we approach this palace, we encounter layers of guardians. This is the first key image: the guardians. The palace has high walls and imposing gates, and at every door and tower stand the guards. If you have ever seen the guards of a palace, even today in Europe, you know these are stern, serious people. A smiling, casually engaging guard is not a good one. Their intensive training — like that of soldiers or police — prepares them to be vigilant, alert, and suspicious, because they know what is at stake.
And they are not vigilant idly. Just as the police or military know that threats are constant, these guardians understand that all sorts of enemies are always plotting to get inside. To bring down a nation or an empire, enemies will aim at the king himself — or worse, the children who carry the future. So the guards live each day with the knowledge that danger is real, constant, and directed at the heart of the palace.
In this metaphor, these guardians are the Sharia scholars.
To untrained eyes, their station outside the palace might suggest that they are not close to the king and his inner circle. Their detractors might go so far as to suggest that these men are merely protecting lifeless walls, and complain that they create unnecessary hurdles for the palace residents while they obsessively build new barriers, and plug in every little hole in the perimeter. Some insiders cannot contain their frustration and dismiss these Sharia scholars as ʿulamaʾ al-rusum — “scholars of externals or outward forms”.
In truth, their job is irreplaceable. Their firmness is a sign of faithfulness to their duty. Their diligence is a reflection of the devotion. These scholars are keenly aware of the vow Satan made in the Qur’an, to misguide God’s servants from the True Path (al-Sirāt al-Mustaqīm) without rest until the end of time. If the guards slacken for even a moment, or if one section of the wall is left unguarded, infiltrators will enter, and the king’s beloved family will be attacked.
The guards also know that right behind them rises the great outer wall — the major perimeter they themselves have built and defined. To an untrained eye, it may seem harmless to let a few guests slip into the courtyard unchecked, since there are other walls deeper inside. But the guardians know better: once that first wall is breached, the inner defenses are weaker, and much of the battle is already lost. So, they make their stand at the perimeter, drawing the line firmly where the palace begins. They also vet every visitor and inspect every item passing through the gates to the king and his family.
The King’s Family
The family inside represents the spirit, the heart, the inner essence. They are the Sufis, those who emphasize the spiritual dimension of Islam. In one sense, they are indeed the goal, the pinnacle, the reason the palace exists. But this does not mean they are free to ignore the defenses set up for their own protection.
Inside, the family lives at peace. The children run freely, the women rest, the king relaxes by the warmth of a fire. They wear fine clothes, jewelry, and live without fear. To an observer, this seems the pinnacle of existence — and rightly so. Yet the only reason they can enjoy such peace is because every step between them and the outer world is guarded.
This image of the inner chamber also carries deeper meaning:
The king’s young children are so pure and playful, they are the source of never-ending joy. Yet precisely because they are so pure, they are also too innocent to suspect danger and ill intentions in others. The same is true for some of the most precious but fragile faculties of the heart, which lack defenses and can easily admit what should be kept out. A child might sneak in a friend or object without seeing harm, just as the heart can allow influences that need guarding. This is why the vigilance of the guards, checking what enters, is indispensable.
If instead there was even the smallest suspicion of infiltration into the inner chamber — that perhaps one of the servants was a secret foreign agent, or that a new friend carried a hidden dagger — all of that peace would vanish. Danger would multiply, and the king would not sleep in peace for a single moment. That hidden assurance of safety is precisely the invisible service provided by the outside guardians.
Understanding the Dichotomy
The dichotomy between the guards and the family is mirrored in many other realms: body and soul, heart and mind, masculine and feminine, right brain and left brain.
Crucially, each side must accept that they cannot fully understand the other. They were never designed to. The guards are supposed to be stern and disciplined. The family is supposed to be relaxed, adorned, playful. Neither should resent the other for fulfilling its natural role. If men try to judge women by their own logic, they will wound them. Likewise, women misjudge men when they assume identical sensitivities. Each has been created with distinct tools and instincts. There is deep mercy and wisdom in that.
Allah created all things in pairs — but being paired does not mean being identical. The Qur’an itself emphasizes that complementarity is woven into creation. The lesson is broad: peace comes not when each side highlights the other’s shortcomings, but when they recognize how the other provides what they themselves lack.
The Role of the Guards in History
Returning to our metaphor: if not for the guards, the palace would collapse. Think of some of the strictest defenders of Sharia — scholars like Ibn Taymiyyah, Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah, or, in Qur’anic commentary, someone like Ibn Kathir. They are a reality check. The Hadith scholars too were guardians of the highest order. Consider Imam al-Bukhari, who sifted through six hundreds thousand Prophetic narrations over sixteen years and included only a less than 0.5% of them in his famous Sahih (Hadith) collection. The stories of Imam Malik, Ahmad ibn Hanbal, Imam Muslim, and others, are no different. Such extraordinary effort is nothing less than guardianship of the faith. May Allah be pleased with them all.
At the same time, just as the king’s chamber includes young children who may expose everyone to danger, the guards had some members who could be too harsh or rigid, occasionally drawing the ire of the king’s family. For example, some intellectually towering figures like Ibn Taymiyyah, Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah, Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani, and others at times directed severe criticism at great spiritual masters. They were not always correct; sometimes they overstepped or erred on the side of suspicion. But for the most part, their intentions were good, born of genuine fear about the consequences of failure to protect.
When we look at history, we see that the harshness of the guards often coincided with times of heightened threat. Sometimes the danger came from outside — for example, when Greek philosophy entered the Muslim world. Other times, it arose within, when strands of Sufism drifted too far: when prayer was replaced by mere dance and music, or when reverence for saints slid into grave-worship.
At such times, the guards feared that the king’s family was sneaking out through hidden tunnels, exposing themselves to attack. Or that certain food items laced with traces of poison were being smuggled in, slowly ailing unsuspecting family members, until one by one, they would all perish.
Thankfully, at such times, the Most Merciful has sent some of His most extraordinary servants to draw both sides back to the center, to rein in excesses, impose proper discipline on the guards while bringing the Sufis within the palace walls.
From Imam Ghazali, Abdulqadir Gaylani, and Muhammad Naqshiband, to Imam Rabbani and Said Nursi, these great masters combined the two wings of Islam within themselves and lifted the ummah on their shoulders (may Allah be pleased with them all). It is as if one of the elder sons of the king became commander of the guards, trained in their methods and appreciating their dedication, while bringing the sensitivities of the king’s chambers to the front lines.
Conclusion: Why The Metaphor Matters
This metaphor clarifies roles: Sharia are the guards who define and defend the perimeter; Sufism is the life within — warmth, beauty, remembrance. They are not rivals but partners.
When the walls weaken, sentiment becomes peril.
When the chambers harden, law becomes lifeless.
The Muslim tradition’s greatest integrators just mentioned showed how the elder “son” can walk both posts: loyal to the line outside, tender to the heart within.
What follows for us is simple yet demanding:
Sharia scholars must always keep in mind that the ultimate goal of their efforts is the preservation of the king’s palace and the protection of what is most precious to Him. And that is the spiritual life of Islam. They must be firm towards outside threats but show much more compassion towards their fellow Muslims, even when they do not fully agree with all their choices. After all, these are precisely the qualities of the Companions of the Prophet (pbuh) praised in the Qur’an (Q48:29): “Those with him are tough against the disbelievers and merciful among themselves” .
Sufis must always keep in mind that without the dedication and bravery of the Sharia scholars, the king’s palace would be invaded, its treasure plundered, and the warm and cozy chambers where they bask in the love of their king, would turn into ruins. So, they must be wary of wandering outside the boundaries set by Sharia, as the most dangerous threats come in unsuspecting packages. And they should not resent the occasionally tough love coming from the guards, nor dismiss their crucial service to Islam and its spiritual life.
Therefore, if you:
Critique — do it without contempt,
Defend — do it without disdain; and
Worship — do it without neglecting discipline.
Our aim is disciplined mercy: strong walls, warm rooms, and an open passage between them.
That is how a palace stands — and the only way the Muslim ummah will live in harmony and thrive. By protecting both the body and its soul.
I will leave you to ponder over the most beautiful words:
وَاعْتَصِمُوا بِحَبْلِ اللَّهِ جَمِيعًا وَلَا تَفَرَّقُوا ۚ وَاذْكُرُوا نِعْمَتَ اللَّهِ عَلَيْكُمْ إِذْ كُنتُمْ أَعْدَاءً فَأَلَّفَ بَيْنَ قُلُوبِكُمْ فَأَصْبَحْتُم بِنِعْمَتِهِ إِخْوَانًا ۚ وَكُنتُمْ عَلَىٰ شَفَا حُفْرَةٍ مِّنَ النَّارِ فَأَنقَذَكُم مِّنْهَا ۗ كَذَٰلِكَ يُبَيِّنُ اللَّهُ لَكُمْ آيَاتِهِ لَعَلَّكُمْ تَهْتَدُونَ
[Sūrat Āli Imrān (103)]
“Hold firmly — all together — to the rope of Allah, and do not become divided. And remember the favor of Allah upon you — when you were enemies and He brought your hearts together and you became, by His favor, brothers. And you were on the edge of a pit of the Fire, and He saved you from it. Thus does Allah make clear to you His signs that you may be guided.” (Q3:103)