I am often arrested by the dialogues that Socrates conducted — his philosophy grounded in rational argument and the searching questions that persuaded great numbers of his contemporaries. Among those dialogues that captivated me is his exchange with "Ion", the orator and poet who perhaps never received the historical documentation he deserved.
Although the dialogue between Socrates and "Ion" is long and wide-ranging — as Plato recounts it — one particular idea carried me into vast horizons of reflection: Socrates holds that true creativity in speaking about great figures, in conjuring their leadership and human qualities, and in celebrating their achievements with fullness and sincerity, does not issue from the writer or poet alone. Its source, rather, is a celestial inspiration that transcends the limits of human capacity. It is as though an invisible force places words in their rightful positions and bestows upon the writer an exceptional ability to depict beauty and greatness, and to marshal the evidence and proofs that support his vision.
In our present age, and in the light of the blessing of Islam and the perfection of its eloquence, this idea appears even clearer when considered alongside the authentic hadith narrated by Abu Hurairah, may God be pleased with him, that the Messenger of God, peace and blessings be upon him, said:
"When God loves a servant, He calls out to Gabriel: God loves so-and-so, so love him. Gabriel loves him, then calls out to the inhabitants of heaven: God loves so-and-so, so love him. The inhabitants of heaven love him, and then acceptance is placed for him on earth."
Despite the difference in starting point between the philosophical conception and the Islamic one, the meaning converges at an essential juncture: there are people for whom God places acceptance and love in hearts, so that words race to earn the honour of speaking about them, meanings jostle to describe their legacy, and the writer finds himself before a task that is not easy — because language, however vast, remains incapable of encompassing every dimension of greatness.
From this standpoint, we find that many writers and poets have openly acknowledged that writing about His Highness Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed Al Nahyan, President of the State, may God preserve him, has never been a simple matter.
Words race to earn the honour of drawing near to his biography, and phrases select their finest forms to describe his great stances, his character, and his noble qualities. This was never the product of a passing moment; it has been an experience lived by all who have attempted to write about him or to document any aspect of his journey.
Words choose their places, collections select their verses, and pens honour themselves by recounting his attributes and virtues. We have heard poems that became epics, odes that grew into volumes, and books whose chapters multiplied — all of them striving to approach the image of a leader who has achieved great things for his country, his nation, and all of humanity.
Perhaps the most beautiful conclusion we can draw from all of this is that words are not always the ones in command. There are moments when the writer finds himself led by meaning before he leads meaning. He searches through the lexicons of language for a worthy description, labours to select his phrases, and then discovers that what he is trying to express is larger than the limits of letters. As for us, we can only discharge our duty of testimony with what we know, and leave to history what we could not describe, and to time the telling of what words could not convey.