Ten years after the incendiary publications of Charlie Hebdo set Europe ablaze with controversy, it is startling to witness a similar spectacle—this time not in Paris, but in Istanbul. A decade before Charlie Hebdo, there was Denmark’s Jyllands-Posten in 2005. These episodes, spanning time and geography, share a common thread: attempts to mock and caricature the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ under the guise of satire or, as they may defend it, l’art pour l’art—art for art’s sake.
But this was never truly about art. It wasn’t in the twelfth century when the West first began producing offensive imagery of the Prophet Muhammad, nor is it today. At least, it is never about art for the Muslims who are targeted by such depictions—depictions designed to wound, provoke, and stir hostility.
For Muslims, art is intrinsically tied to purpose. It is not detached from meaning, nor is it a silly indulgence. Every act of a Muslim is ultimately linked to worship. Art, therefore, becomes an expression of devotion: of love, not hate; of praise, not ridicule; of beauty, not provocation. Indeed, among the loftiest subjects of Muslim artistic expression is the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ himself.
In Muslim Literature
It is no small wonder that one of the richest sciences in Islam is dedicated entirely to the words, deeds, and tacit approvals of the Prophet—hadith—making him arguably the most documented human being ever to walk the earth. Beyond the general collections, there is a special genre called Shamā’il, focusing on his physical and moral qualities. The celebrated al-Shamā’il al-Muḥammadiyya by al-Tirmidhī is only one among many; scholars such as al-Baghawī, Qāḍī ʿIyāḍ, al-Suyūṭī, Ibn Kathīr, and al-Qasṭallānī also compiled works describing his noble traits. If this is not evidence of love, what is?
Poetry, however, is perhaps the most profound literary avenue through which Muslims have expressed their affection. Even during his lifetime, companions like Ḥassān b. Thābit and Kaʿb b. Mālik composed verses in his praise and defence. There is scarcely an Arab Muslim poet who has not penned lines devoted to the Prophet. Beyond Arabic, virtually every Islamicate language boasts its own poetic tributes.
An Arab poet once wrote:
كُتب الأنامُ لنا فكانَ قصيدةً
كنتَ البديعَ الفردَ من أبياتها
Humanity was written for us as a poem,
and you were the unique, matchless verse among its lines.
From Turkish to Swahili, Somali to Malay, Persian to Hausa, these poetic outpourings are too numerous to count. It was this love that moved the Bosnian poet Namık Walker to say, “Ti znaš ej Muhammede, da ću ti dati svoju dušu” (You know, O Muhammad, I will give my soul for you). The same passion inspired Nana Asma’u, a Fulani princess, to compose a 318-verse biography of the Prophet in Hausa. It compelled Iqbal Azim to chide himself in humility, questioning who he was to dare praise the one whom Allah Himself praised.
Indeed, poems in praise of the Prophet have become distinct genres across cultures—naʿt and mevlid in Turkish and Persian, nūr-nāma in Urdu, madhunabi in West Africa. Yet even amid this love, the Prophet cautioned: “Do not exaggerate in praising me as the Christians exaggerated in praising the son of Mary…” (Musnad Aḥmad; Bukhārī). Scholars have since echoed this warning against excess. Imagine, though, had such restraint not existed!
Calligraphy
With figural representations generally frowned at in Islam, Muslims turned to calligraphy to honour the Prophet. From geometric Kufic to flowing Thuluth, the Arabic script became a canvas for love. Perhaps the most exquisite manifestation is the ḥilya, an Ottoman invention by Hafiz Osman in the 17th century. Unlike portraits that fix appearances, the ḥilya invites contemplation by describing the Prophet’s qualities in words, surrounded by ornaments.
Floriography
In Islamicate cultures, especially Persian and Ottoman, the Prophet is often symbolised by the rose, the “Sultan of Flowers.” This motif flourishes in ebru, tehzip and miniature painting, while poets have long employed the rose to convey their love for him.
Naming: A Lingering Love
Few names are as widespread as Muhammad. In some years, it is the most given boy’s name even in non-Muslim lands like the UK. In Turkey, “Mehmet” is the most given name. This usage arose from a tender hesitation to utter “Muhammad” directly, out of fear of disrespect. In parts of West Africa, families name all their sons Muhammad, distinguishing them as Awwal (first), Thānī (second), Thālith (third), and so on.
Equally rich is the tradition of bestowing honorifics upon the Prophet: Sayyid (Master) among Arabs, Piyaray Urdu, Jānam in Persian, Efendimiz in Turkish, while Yoruba Muslims even tendered their own poetic titles, calling him Adewale (the crown that arrived) and Kehinde (the last-born yet elder).
Museums
In the modern world, museums are guardians of culture. The World Muslim League’s International Exhibition and Museum of the Prophet’s Biography maintains centres across the Muslim world: Makkah, Madinah, Rabat, Dakar and Nouakchott, with a new site planned in Jakarta. Jordan’s Amman hosts a dedicated Prophet Muhammad Museum, and Istanbul’s Topkapı Palace is also dedicated to him a Privy Chamber.
The Greatest Art: Living the Sunnah
Yet above all expressions, the truest testament of love for the Prophet lies in embodying his example. Allah declared him to be of the highest character—a model to be followed. If we truly love Allah, we follow His Messenger (Al Imran 3:31). This is the Muslim’s ultimate art: the art of sunnah.
In a time when some delight in mocking the Prophet, our defence must begin at home. We must teach ourselves and our children to view the world through his compassionate lens. We must study his life, celebrate his status in our hearts, and let that reverence shape our actions. This is how we “draw” the Prophet—not on paper, but in our hearts.
May Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him.
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