Danish Ashraf Khan
In an age driven by social media, gossip groups, and casual conversations, one of the gravest moral sins has quietly found a seat at our daily tables—backbiting. We speak of others in their absence under the illusion of sounding well-informed, intellectual, or morally superior. But in truth, such speech strips us of the very dignity we claim to uphold. Backbiting, known as ghibah in Islam, is more than a minor fault—it is a spiritual disease and a corrosive act that diminishes not just the subject, but more devastatingly, the speaker.
The Holy Qur’an leaves no ambiguity about the seriousness of backbiting. In Surah Al-Hujurat (49:12), Allah warns: “Do not backbite one another. Would any of you like to eat the flesh of his dead brother? You would detest it!” This verse does not simply condemn backbiting—it evokes a haunting image of cannibalism, showing how vile and grotesque this act is in the eyes of God. This comparison is not metaphorical hyperbole; it is a wake-up call to understand the deep moral rot that backbiting represents.
Equally clear are the words of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, who said, “Do you know what backbiting is?” They said, “Allah and His Messenger know best.” He said, “It is to mention about your brother that he dislikes.” Someone asked, “What if what I said about my brother is true?” The Prophet replied, “If what you said is true, you have backbitten him, and if it is not true, you have slandered him.” (Sahih Muslim)
This Hadith unequivocally defines the boundary: even if what we say is true, if it would hurt the person in question, it is backbiting. And if it’s false, it is an even greater sin—slander.
Yet despite these clear moral and religious boundaries, backbiting has become so normalized that it now masquerades as casual talk. In our living rooms, offices, markets, and digital groups, conversations routinely revolve around dissecting others’ lives, mocking their choices, exposing their weaknesses, and sharing their personal matters—all without their presence or consent.
The damage, however, is not just social. Backbiting is a corrosive act that hardens the heart and pollutes the soul. It creates an illusion of superiority while planting the seeds of hypocrisy. A person who indulges in it may temporarily gain attention or admiration, but in time, their credibility erodes. People begin to notice the pattern and wonder: if this is what they say about others, what must they say about me?
Even worse, backbiting is spiritually self-destructive. Islamic teachings state that on the Day of Judgment, when a person opens their book of deeds, they may find their good actions missing. Shocked, they will learn that those deeds were transferred to the very individuals they spoke against. It’s a divine justice that reflects not only the weight of our words but also the sanctity of another’s honor.
True character lies not in exposing others, but in protecting them. A person of integrity does not exploit someone’s flaws for conversation or criticism. Instead, they cover those flaws, offer support in times of difficulty, and pray for others in their absence. Such individuals rise in both the sight of people and the sight of God.
Moreover, we must be conscious of the moral legacy we are leaving for our children. When children grow up in environments where mocking, ridiculing, or discussing others is normalized, they begin to mirror these behaviors. We must teach them that to honor someone’s dignity—even when they’re not around—is the true measure of strength and civility. We must demonstrate through our own example that respecting others’ reputations is a non-negotiable virtue.
Change begins at the most basic level—our words. Let us be mindful that every sentence we utter either adds light or spreads darkness. Our tongues have the power to either build or break, to elevate or humiliate, to purify or poison.
In conclusion, backbiting is a quiet epidemic of character erosion that we can no longer afford to ignore. It masquerades as harmless conversation but ultimately leads to spiritual decay, fractured relationships, and social mistrust. Let us remember that true power lies not in how sharply we speak of others, but in how compassionately we protect their honor. Let us strive to be people who speak with wisdom, act with integrity, and remember that silence, when it guards someone’s dignity, is a sign of strength—not weakness.
The next time you’re tempted to talk about someone behind their back, ask yourself: Would I eat my brother’s flesh? If the answer repulses you—as it should—then choose silence, and save your soul.
Author is a Teacher, Writer and a Public Servant. He can be mailed at khandanishashraf506@gmail.com