As human civilization has advanced, one truth has become increasingly clear—human beings do not survive merely through external power; the foundation of their existence is built upon moral conduct.
The true character of a society is determined by how its citizens treat one another. For human beings do not live alone. They live within relationships, within interactions, and above all, within the consequences and reflections of their own actions.
This very truth was expressed centuries ago with profound humanity by the Sufi philosopher-poet Rahman Baba of Peshawar. He said: if you sow flowers, gardens will bloom all around you; but if you sow thorns, those very thorns will return and pierce your own feet.
This statement reflects a deep reality of human society. People often believe that if they insult, deceive, spread hatred against others, or suppress them through power, things will remain that way forever.
But reality is entirely different. Society is a living structure in which every action spreads outward like an invisible wave. Hatred never remains one-sided—it returns. Just as compassion echoes back, so does cruelty. In today’s world, this truth is visible in a terrifying way.
We live in an age where hatred is wrapped in the language of ideology, and division is called political strategy. Morality is often used according to convenience. If wrongdoing serves one’s own side, it becomes acceptable; yet even the slightest fault of an opponent is treated as a crime.
This hypocrisy is one of the greatest crises of modern civilization.
Rahman Baba’s philosophy stands as a silent yet profound protest against this tendency. He did not see humanity as fragmented beings. In his view, human society resembles a single body.
If one part of the body is wounded, the pain is felt throughout the whole. Therefore, when an individual, group, or state spreads poison toward others, it must eventually breathe that poisoned air itself. History offers countless examples of this truth.
Empires built upon hatred, states founded on oppression, and powers established through deception have ultimately collapsed under their own weight.
Another important aspect of Rahman Baba’s philosophy is his warning about time. He tells people: straighten your path while there is still light. Within this statement lies not only a reflection on death, but also a profound moral warning.
People generally think there is still plenty of time for self-correction. One day later they will protest injustice, later they will purify their character, later they will become humane. But this habit of postponing is humanity’s greatest self-deception.
For no one knows the limit of time. Modern society is passing through precisely this crisis. External development, skyscrapers, technology, or economic growth are not the true measures of civilization.
The permanence of civilization rests not upon steel, but upon conscience. Rahman Baba’s philosophy reminds us once again of that forgotten truth.
In this philosophy, there is no place for arrogance. No matter how powerful a person may become, in the end they are temporary. This realization does not weaken a person; rather, it makes them responsible.
One who knows that their time is limited thinks at least once before pouring poison upon others. People forget that they too will fall, that they too will come to an end. Therefore, today there is only one question before us: what are we sowing—thorns of hatred, revenge, and contempt, or flowers of compassion, justice, and love for humanity?
History and nature accept no excuses. They simply return the results. If we sow poison today, tomorrow we ourselves will have to breathe it in. Thus, throughout the long journey of human civilization, one truth has always remained undeniable—no one can walk safely after sowing thorns.
