By Mohammad Mozammel Haque

A classroom is more than four walls and a blackboard or whiteboard—it is a living garden where
young minds and hearts take root. A teacher, in this sense, is not merely an instructor, but a
gardener of souls, entrusted with nurturing knowledge, ethics, and compassion. Yet, in this
delicate relationship, correction and discipline often become necessary. The question then arises:
When does rebuke become rightful? The answer lies in the heart of the teacher. A rebuke born of
love uplifts, but one devoid of compassion wounds. The essence of true teaching is not the power
to correct, but the love that justifies correction. The Holy Qur’an, the teachings of the Prophet
Muhammad (peace be upon him), and the wisdom of scholars and philosophers across centuries
affirm one profound truth: Only those who love their students have the right to rebuke them.
The Holy Qur’an presents teaching as a sacred duty, rooted in mercy and compassion. The very
first word revealed was “Iqra”—“Read” (Surah Al-‘Alaq 96:1). This divine command marks
knowledge as the beginning of faith, and by extension, the teacher as a spiritual guide. But the
Qur’an also frames this guidance in tenderness and care. Allah the Almighty says:
“It is by the mercy of Allah that you were gentle with them. Had you been harsh or hard-hearted,
they would have dispersed from around you.” (Surah Aal-e-Imran 3:159)
This verse was revealed regarding the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) as a leader and
teacher. It emphasizes that even when his followers erred, his approach was characterized by
gentleness. The verse reminds every educator that the heart of effective teaching lies in empathy.
A teacher who rebukes without love may scatter the hearts of their students, but one who corrects
out of compassion draws them nearer to goodness. In another verse, Allah commands:
“Invite to the way of your Lord with wisdom and good instruction, and argue with them in a way
that is best.” (Surah An-Nahl 16:125) This call to wisdom and beautiful instruction forms the
moral framework for education. It tells us that guidance is most effective when it flows through
kindness and understanding, not severity or humiliation.
The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) was, without doubt, the greatest teacher humanity has ever
known. His students were not confined to a classroom—they were the companions who carried

his message to the world. His method of instruction was distinguished by patience, affection, and
a deep understanding of human nature. Anas ibn Malik (RA), who served the Prophet for ten
years, said:
“I served the Prophet (pbuh) for ten years. He never once said to me ‘Uff’ (a word of
annoyance), nor did he ever ask me, ‘Why did you do that?’ or, ‘Why didn’t you do this?’”
(Sahih Muslim)
This narration reflects an extraordinary level of patience and love. The Prophet (pbuh) did not
rely on rebuke to teach right from wrong. His warmth inspired obedience far more effectively
than anger ever could. When his companions made mistakes, he corrected them indirectly and
gently, preserving their dignity. In one instance, a young man came to the Prophet (pbuh) and
asked for permission to commit adultery. The companions were shocked, but the Prophet
responded with calm. He asked the young man if he would like the same for his mother, sister, or
daughter. When the man said no, the Prophet placed his blessed hand on his chest and prayed for
him. The young man left transformed—rebuked not by harshness, but by compassion and reason.
This example defines the moral of our statement: ‘Love must precede correction.’ The Prophet’s
rebuke, if ever expressed, was an act of love—a means to elevate, not to humiliate.
The companions (Sahabah) mirrored the Prophet’s gentleness in their own teaching. Abdullah
ibn Abbas (RA), known as the “Interpreter of the Qur’an,” once corrected a student who erred in
recitation. Rather than scolding him, Ibn Abbas recited the verse correctly, smiled, and said:
“This is how the Messenger of Allah taught me.” The rebuke was veiled in encouragement—a
lesson in humility for every educator. Similarly, Umar ibn al-Khattab (RA), known for his
firmness, was also known for his fairness and deep care for those under his instruction. His
strength was never cruelty—it was moral discipline rooted in concern. He once said: “Teach
your children swimming, archery, and horse riding, and discipline them with love.” Umar’s
advice recognizes that education is not about domination, but direction. A teacher’s firmness
becomes noble only when tempered by affection. The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) said: “Allah is
gentle and loves gentleness in all matters.” (Sahih Bukhari) And again:
“He who does not show mercy to the young and respect to the elder is not of us.” (Tirmidhi)

These words are not mere moral platitudes—they are guiding principles for teachers. The
Prophet linked gentleness to divine love. Harshness may achieve obedience, but it will never win
hearts. A student who fears their teacher learns reluctantly, but one who feels loved learns
willingly.
In another hadith, the Prophet said:
“The most beloved of people to Allah is the one who brings the most benefit to others.”
(Tabarani)
A teacher’s role is precisely this—to bring benefit through knowledge, wisdom, and moral
growth. But benefit cannot come through humiliation. True education is the elevation of the soul,
and such elevation requires compassion.
Love in teaching is not indulgence. It does not mean ignoring mistakes. Rather, it is the intention
behind correction. A loving rebuke is like a surgeon’s cut—painful but healing. A loveless
rebuke, however, is like a wound inflicted without care, leaving scars instead of lessons.
Islamic scholars emphasize this balance. Imam Al-Ghazali, in Ihya Ulum al-Din, wrote: “The
teacher should act towards his students as a compassionate father acts towards his child.”
He continues: “His purpose should be to guide them to salvation, not to seek from them reward
or praise.” Ghazali’s words remind educators that teaching is a sacred trust (amanah), not a
profession of authority. The teacher’s power to correct must be guided by love, for without it,
discipline turns into domination.
Across civilizations, great thinkers have echoed this moral truth. The Greek philosopher Socrates
viewed teaching as a dialogue of souls. He believed that knowledge must be “drawn out” of the
student through questioning and care. “Education,” he said, “is the kindling of a flame, not the
filling of a vessel.” A flame kindled in fear flickers out, but one kindled in love burns bright.
Confucius, the ancient Chinese sage, taught: “He who loves others is constantly loved by them.
He who respects others is constantly respected by them.” For Confucius, mutual respect was the
essence of teaching. A teacher’s love invites a student’s respect, creating an environment where
moral and intellectual growth flourish. Even modern philosophers echoed the same sentiment.
Friedrich Nietzsche, often misread as harsh, once wrote:

“He who cannot give love cannot command.”
And John Dewey, the American educational reformer, stated: “Education is not preparation for
life; education is life itself.” Dewey’s progressive philosophy aligns remarkably with Islamic
ideals—teaching is not a transaction of information, but a moral relationship where love guides
discipline.
In today’s educational psychology, the value of emotional intelligence in teaching is widely
acknowledged. Empathy, patience, and positive communication are now seen as essential
pedagogical skills. Yet, these modern ideas were practiced and preached 1,400 years ago by the
Prophet Muhammad (pbuh).
When teachers approach their students with love, they activate a sense of belonging and trust.
Neuroscientific studies show that positive emotions enhance memory and learning, while fear
inhibits them. This is precisely why the Prophet’s method—gentle correction through
affection—was not only spiritually effective but psychologically sound.
In many contemporary classrooms, teachers face immense pressure—large class sizes, diverse
students, limited resources. In such conditions, patience can easily wear thin. But the moral
responsibility of a teacher remains the same: to teach with love.
A rebuke shouted in anger may correct a behavior temporarily, but a rebuke offered with
affection transforms a student’s heart. The Prophet (pbuh) showed us that even when discipline
is necessary, it must never strip a student of dignity. Every teacher must ask themselves before
correcting: “Do I love this student enough to rebuke them rightly?” For love transforms
correction into care, authority into guidance, and the classroom into a sanctuary of learning.
There is a story from the life of Imam Abu Hanifa (RA). A student once gave an incorrect legal
opinion in public, attributing it to him. Instead of humiliating the young man, Abu Hanifa
privately explained the error and praised his intention to spread knowledge. Later, the student
became one of his most devoted followers. Abu Hanifa’s gentleness turned a mistake into
mentorship.
Another story tells of a teacher in the Ottoman madrasas who would pray for his students by
name each night, asking Allah to make them righteous and successful. When asked why, he said:

“How can I rebuke them with justice if I do not first pray for them with love?” These stories
reveal that in the Islamic tradition, ‘Love and discipline are not opposites—they are
companions.’ One purifies the heart, and the other sharpens the mind.
When a teacher rebukes out of love, it ceases to be punishment—it becomes mercy. The Qur’an
describes the Prophet (pbuh) as “a mercy to all the worlds.” (Surah Al-Anbiya 21:107). His
mercy was not weakness; it was strength perfected by compassion.
Likewise, a teacher’s gentle rebuke can be a form of mercy—a reminder that love sometimes
demands correction. But such correction should never aim to break, only to build.
The Prophet (pbuh) said: “Religion is sincere advice.” (Sahih Muslim)
A teacher’s rebuke, when rooted in sincerity, becomes an act of faith. It is a form of
naseehah—advice given for the betterment of another.
Words from Scholars and Thinkers
Aristotle: “Educating the mind without educating the heart is no education at all.”
Rumi: “Raise your words, not voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”
Imam Shafi’i: “He who teaches and does not love, teaches only with his tongue, not his heart.”
Albert Einstein: “It is the supreme art of the teacher to awaken joy in creative expression and
knowledge.”
Khalil Gibran: “If he is indeed wise, he does not bid you enter the house of his wisdom, but
rather leads you to the threshold of your own mind.”
These words, across time and culture, all converge on one truth: ‘Teaching is an act of love.’
Thus, teaching is a noble calling, a trust bestowed by Allah upon those who shape the next
generation. But with this trust comes a moral responsibility. A teacher’s words can heal or harm,
uplift or discourage. Therefore, every rebuke must pass through the filter of love. In the example
of the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), we find the perfect model of an educator who combined
knowledge with mercy, discipline with compassion. His rebukes were rare, gentle, and
transformative. His love for his companions was the foundation of their greatness. To every
teacher, the message is clear: If you cannot love your students, you have no right to rebuke them.

But if you love them, even your silence can teach, and your rebuke can heal. Let our classrooms
become places of love, not fear—of guidance, not judgment. For in the end, the greatest lessons
are not taught through words, but through hearts that care.

Mohammad Mozammel Haque
Dean (In-charge), Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences, &
Associate Professor, Department of English
Northern University Bangladesh
Email: mozambiu@yahoo.com