1. The Rosetta Stone helped decode Ancient Egyptian (hieroglyphs)
The Rosetta Stone contains a decree written in three scripts: Hieroglyphic, Demotic, and Ancient Greek.
Because scholars already understood Greek, they could use it to decipher hieroglyphs in the early 1800s (notably by Jean-François Champollion).
This opened up the entire field of Egyptology and allowed modern historians to read temple inscriptions, tomb texts, and official records from Pharaonic Egypt.
2. The Qur’an makes historical references to Ancient Egypt
The Qur'an mentions Pharaoh (Fir’awn) in the stories of Musa (Moses), Yusuf (Joseph), and other prophets.
Before the Rosetta Stone, many people doubted or could not confirm the historicity of Egypt as portrayed in the Qur’an.
After hieroglyphs were decoded, scholars were able to:
Confirm the existence of rulers called Pharaohs
Understand more about Egyptian religious beliefs, which align with the Qur’an's descriptions of idolatry and magic.
Discover titles, customs, and administrative structures that match the Qur’anic narrative.
3. Validation of Linguistic Accuracy in the Qur'an
One example often highlighted by scholars is the specific use of the word “Pharaoh”:
The Qur'an refers to the ruler at the time of Yusuf (Joseph) as “King”, not Pharaoh (Qur'an 12:43).
But it uses “Pharaoh” (Fir'awn) during the time of Musa (Moses).
Egyptian historical records — now readable because of the Rosetta Stone — show that during Yusuf’s time (Middle Kingdom/Hyksos period), rulers were not called Pharaohs.
The title “Pharaoh” began being used later, during the New Kingdom — which aligns with the time of Musa.
This precise linguistic distinction, unknown to Arabs at the time, is seen as evidence of the Qur’an’s miraculous historical accuracy.
Conclusion
While the Rosetta Stone doesn't validate the Qur'an directly, it enabled the decoding of ancient Egyptian history, which in turn supports the Qur'an’s accurate descriptions of events, titles, and cultures that were unknown in 7th-century Arabia. It provides external historical confirmation of Qur’anic narratives, which believers view as a sign of its divine origin.
Thematic Thread: Leaving the Tyranny of Fir’awn
In the Qur’anic account, a powerful theme emerges: true belief in Allah necessitates a separation from tyranny — either through physical departure, moral resistance, or martyrdom.
Each of the believers within Fir’awn’s orbit faced a turning point where they could no longer remain complicit — and each, in their own way, left the system:
1. The Magicians (Surah Ash-Shu‘arā 26:41–51)
They came as part of Fir’awn’s spectacle — confident, proud, and aligned with him.
But once they recognised the truth through Musa’s miracle, their acceptance was immediate and absolute.
Their words: “We believe in the Lord of Musa and Harun” were an open defection from Fir’awn’s authority.
They knew the cost, and they embraced it: martyrdom over allegiance to falsehood.
Lesson: Truth, once recognised, demands loyalty — even at the cost of life.
2. The Hairdresser of Fir’awn’s Daughter (Hadith – Musnad Ahmad)
A seemingly invisible woman within the palace structure, working quietly and faithfully.
When her belief in Allah slipped out, she was reported, tortured, and executed — along with her children — for her faith.
Her story, not in the Qur’an but narrated by the Prophet (SAW), was told to uplift the believers — especially women — about the weight of hidden iman and the price of truth.
Lesson: Even the most marginalised voice can challenge the system, even if it’s met with death. Her martyrdom becomes a legacy of moral resistance.
3. Asiyah (AS) (Surah At-Tahrīm 66:11)
She lived at the pinnacle of privilege and power, yet her heart recognised the falsehood of her husband’s tyranny.
Her du‘ā to Allah for a house near Him in Jannah was a withdrawal of allegiance. She chose faith over safety, eternity over comfort.
Her torture and death are not detailed in the Qur’an but hinted at in hadith.
Lesson: True belief in Allah causes even the Queen of Egypt to reject the system from within, surrendering to divine justice rather than remaining safe in worldly power.
4. Musa (AS) Himself (Surah Al-Qasas 28:14–21)
Raised within the palace, protected by the same system of oppression — yet his fitrah and conscience made him restless.
When he accidentally killed the Egyptian, it symbolised the moral rupture: he could no longer remain.
He fled Egypt — physically removing himself from Fir’awn’s reach and beginning the path of prophethood.
Lesson: Even a prophet raised by the tyrant must leave to purify, prepare, and return only with divine support.
Tension and Suspense in the Narrative
For those unfamiliar with the full story, each episode adds a layer of tension:
The magicians’ turn shocks the court.
The hairdresser’s hidden faith surfaces tragically.
Asiyah’s defiance is utterly subversive.
Musa’s departure and return mark the final unraveling of Fir’awn’s illusion of power.
Allah’s Plan unfolds in stages — each believer’s exit chips away at Fir’awn’s dominion.
Did Musa (AS) Know Asiyah Was Murdered?
The Qur’an doesn’t state this explicitly, and the narrations don’t confirm Musa’s awareness.
But if we reflect:
Asiyah was his adoptive mother, possibly the one who advocated for his life as a baby.
Her belief in Allah and subsequent martyrdom, if known to him, would have carried a profound emotional weight.
It could have deepened his sense of mission, as her sacrifice represented the cost of truth and the ugliness of the system he was sent to challenge.
Whether he knew or not, her stand is preserved in the Qur’an for all believers — especially those trapped within unjust situations.
Final Reflection
The Qur’anic and prophetic message is clear: faith and oppression cannot coexist.
A believer must either:
Break free
Speak truth
Or, when cornered, sacrifice comfort — even life — for the sake of Allah.
This theme is timeless and speaks especially powerfully to modern-day believers stuck within unjust structures — be they political, social, or spiritual.
After the Exodus from Egypt, Bani Israeel (the Children of Israel) indeed appear to have had a strong connection to water sources, both in their immediate survival and in their longer-term settlement patterns.
Here are a few points to consider:
1. Crossing the Sea
Their journey begins dramatically with the miraculous crossing of the sea (often identified as the Red Sea or a nearby body of water). This event not only saved them from Pharaoh but also became a symbol of divine intervention and liberation.
2. Desert Wandering and Water Miracles
During their time in the wilderness (Sinai), water is repeatedly a central theme:
At Marah, they find bitter water which is made sweet (Qur’an 7:160).
From the rock, water flows after Prophet Musa (Moses) strikes it with his staff (Qur’an 2:60). This leads to twelve springs, one for each tribe.
They camp near springs and palm trees at places like Elim (mentioned in the Bible).
3. Settlement in the Promised Land
When they eventually enter the Holy Land (after a generation passes), their settlements often cluster around water sources—valleys, rivers, and fertile plains.
4. Spiritual Symbolism of Water
Water is also a symbol of spiritual life, purification, and sustenance. Bani Israeel’s recurring need for water mirrors their deeper need for guidance and mercy from Allah SWT.
The story of the fish in relation to Khidr comes from Surah Al-Kahf (18:60–82) and is part of the narrative of Prophet Musa’s (Moses') journey to gain deeper knowledge.
Here’s how the fish fits in:
1. The Sign of the Meeting Point
Allah Told Musa to seek someone more knowledgeable (Khidr), and the sign that he had reached the destined meeting point was this:
“And [mention] when Moses said to his servant, ‘I will not cease [traveling] until I reach the junction of the two seas or continue for a long period.’”
— Surah Al-Kahf 18:60
Musa took along his young servant (Yusha‘ ibn Nun) and a fish in a basket. Allah told Musa:
“When you lose the fish, that is the place where you will find the one you are looking for.”
2. The Miracle of the Fish
At the junction of the two seas, they rested, and the fish miraculously came to life and slipped into the sea in a wondrous way—described as “saraban” (slipping away like a tunnel).
“But when they reached the junction between them, they forgot their fish, and it took its course into the sea, slipping away.”
— 18:61
Later, Yusha remembered and told Musa, and they retraced their steps to find Khidr waiting.
3. Symbolic Layers
Water again marks divine encounter and guidance.
The fish symbolizes something hidden becoming manifest—much like the hidden knowledge Musa is about to witness with Khidr.
The location is the junction of the seas—a liminal space, fitting for a meeting that transcends ordinary time and space.
Let’s explore another significant water source: Nile River and its relationship with the three traditional seasons of ancient Egypt, which deeply shaped the spiritual, agricultural, and social lives of the people, including Bani Israeel during their time in Egypt.
The Three Seasons of Ancient Egypt
The ancient Egyptian calendar was based on the cyclical behaviour of the Nile. The river’s rhythms governed everything, and the year was divided into three main seasons:
1. Akhet – The Inundation (Flooding Season)
Mid-July to mid-November
The Nile overflowed its banks, flooding the fields.
This flooding was vital, bringing nutrient-rich silt that made the land fertile.
People couldn’t farm during this season; instead, they repaired tools, worked on monuments, and engaged in religious ceremonies.
Spiritually, it was a time of renewal and divine mercy.
2. Peret – The Emergence (Growing Season)
Mid-November to mid-March
As the waters receded, farmers began planting crops in the moist soil.
This was the season of productivity, when life emerged from the silt-covered land.
Crops like wheat, barley, onions, and flax were planted.
The name Peret implies manifestation or sprouting, much like the spiritual “emergence” after hardship.
3. Shemu – The Harvest (Dry Season)
Mid-March to mid-July
Crops were harvested and stored.
The land dried up, and irrigation became important.
This was a time of gratitude and gathering, and often involved feasts and offerings.
Spiritually, it parallels reward after effort.
Bani Israeel and the Nile
When Bani Israeel lived in Egypt under Pharaoh, they would have been fully immersed in this seasonal rhythm, especially as labourers and agricultural workers.
The Nile wasn’t just physical sustenance—it was central to Pharaoh's power. It was even personified and revered as divine.
Yet, Allah subverts this in the Qur’an:
The same Nile that nourished Egypt becomes the means of Pharaoh’s humiliation: the baby Musa is placed in it (Qur’an 20:39), and later, Pharaoh drowns.
The plagues (blood, frogs, etc.) directly attacked the Nile’s symbolic power (Qur’an 7:133).
Spiritual Symbolism
Each season parallels a spiritual state:
Akhet (Flood) – A time of surrender and purification (e.g., trials, divine intervention).
Peret (Growth) – Spiritual awakening and action (e.g., Bani Israeel’s training in the desert).
Shemu (Harvest) – Receiving the fruits of patience and striving (e.g., entry into the Promised Land).
The Nile: Source of Life and Instrument of Death
Pharaoh’s entire regime was built around the Nile:
It was his economic lifeline, allowing agriculture, trade, and centralized control.
It was his source of pride and power. According to the Qur’an, Pharaoh even claimed divinity over it:
“Does not the kingdom of Egypt belong to me, and these rivers flowing beneath me? Do you not see?”
— Surah Az-Zukhruf 43:51
He equated his control of water with control over life.
But Allah Reverses It: Water as a Trial and Judgment
The very Nile he claimed became part of his destruction:
The Baby in the Basket:
Musa (AS) is placed in the Nile as a baby—a symbol of weakness.
Yet he is carried safely into Pharaoh’s palace, raised under his roof, and eventually becomes his divine challenger.
The river that Pharaoh rules delivers his enemy to him.
The Plague of Blood:
The first of the signs sent to Pharaoh was turning the Nile into blood (Qur’an 7:133).
This defiles what he considered pure and powerful.
The Final Drowning:
When Pharaoh and his army chase Bani Israeel into the sea, Allah Splits the sea for them and closes it upon Pharaoh.
“So We took retribution from them, and We drowned them in the sea, for they denied Our signs and were heedless of them.”
— Surah Al-A‘raf 7:136“Today We will preserve your body so that you may be a sign for those after you.”
— Surah Yunus 10:92
Spiritual Reflection
Water, in the Qur’an, is often a symbol of mercy and life—but for those who reject guidance, it becomes a means of judgment.
Pharaoh drowns in what he once boasted about.
It’s a powerful reminder that what we rely on besides Allah can become the very thing that destroys us.
This is a powerful theme that weaves together the maternal instinct, spiritual fortitude (Iman), and the role of the unknown or unseen influence — as seen through the hairdresser’s story and how it ultimately impacted Asiyah (wife of Pharaoh). Here’s a structured discussion of the concept:
Asiyah and the Hairdresser: Maternal Instinct and Iman
The Maternal Instinct: Boiling Oil vs. Boiling Water
It’s often said — and observed — that mothers fear a pot of boiling oil more than boiling water. The reason isn’t just physical danger, but an instinctive awareness of how violently oil reacts to flesh. It spits, clings, and scalds deeper. There’s something visceral, almost primal, in a mother’s reaction to it.
This same instinct — that intense drive to protect — is what often pulls a mother’s heart between Dunya and Akhirah. Fear for the child’s body, pain, suffering… these can easily challenge a mother’s Iman in moments of testing.
But in the story of the hairdresser of Pharaoh’s daughter, we see something extraordinary:
She watched each one of her children thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil, yet her Iman remained firm.
How the Hairdresser Impacted Asiyah
Asiyah, the queen of Egypt, was already a woman of compassion — she’d rescued baby Musa and raised him in Pharaoh’s palace. But even with all her wealth, position, and goodness, the defining moment of her Iman came after hearing the hairdresser’s story.
The hairdresser wasn’t a prophet. She had no grand miracles. She was a common woman — a slave — with uncommon strength. What she did was deeply human and therefore, perhaps, more affecting than all the signs Musa (AS) had shown.
Asiyah saw in the hairdresser:
A mother who placed Tawakkul above maternal instinct.
A woman who chose Akhirah over her children’s worldly safety.
A witness to torture who did not waver.
In a palace full of signs and miracles, it was the sight and story of raw Iman that finally moved Asiyah to declare:
“My Lord, build for me near You a house in Paradise…” (Qur’an 66:11)
She asked not for her palace to be spared, nor for escape — but to be near Allah.
Miracles vs. Martyrdom
Musa’s miracles were grand: a staff turned snake, a parted sea.
But the hairdresser’s stand — her martyrdom — was silent, sacrificial, and deeply maternal.
Asiyah had seen the miracles, but it was this woman’s faith under fire that pierced her heart.
Reflections for Today
Mothers today still make hard choices:
Hijab vs. job security.
Deen vs. social acceptance.
Truth vs. silence.
The test may not be boiling oil, but it often feels just as consuming.
The hairdresser reminds us: True strength lies not in escaping pain, but in choosing Jannah even when it means watching what we love most — our children — walk into the fire of this Dunya with trust in Allah.
And Asiyah reminds us:
Even queens need reminders. Even the most pious hearts can be lit by the courage of the seemingly invisible.
1. At 14:07 minutes left – "What Imam looks like channelled through masculine energy and feminine energy..."
Here we explore Iman (faith) not just as belief, but as an active force expressed differently through gendered archetypes.
Musa (Moses) channels Iman through masculine energy — direct confrontation, physical courage, leading a people through resistance and migration, breaking structures.
Asiyah (Pharaoh’s wife) embodies Iman through feminine energy — internal resistance, spiritual fortitude, nurturing the one who will overthrow tyranny (Musa), and enduring abuse for her beliefs.
The two energies are not about gender roles, but modalities of transformation — action vs. surrender, outer revolution vs. inner devotion. Both are necessary and sacred.
2. "Musa–Fir’awn/Asiyah – back lead"
This is about the dynamics of visible vs. hidden leadership.
Musa vs. Fir’awn: A classic confrontation of truth vs. tyranny, where Musa is visibly leading, challenging, and speaking.
Asiyah represents a “back lead” — not visible on the political stage, but guiding spiritual change from within. She raises Musa and possibly influences the Pharaoh’s court spiritually, yet her ultimate act of faith is private (see Qur’an 66:11).
This hints that divine change often requires both external leadership and inner spiritual anchoring.
3. "Both start as activists but conclude with 'tawakkal'..."
“Tawakkaltu ‘ala Allah” means "I place my trust in Allah."
Musa starts by acting — killing the Egyptian man, fleeing, returning to confront Pharaoh — yet he ends in deep tawakkul, especially in front of the Red Sea (Surah Shu’ara 26:62): "Indeed, with me is my Lord; He will guide me."
Asiyah begins by taking bold steps (rescuing Musa, challenging Fir’awn), but her ultimate act is a whispered du‘a as she’s being tortured — complete surrender: "My Lord, build for me a house near You in Paradise…" (Qur’an 66:11)
Both move from agency to trust, suggesting the path of faith is about recognising human limits and handing over to divine decree.
4. 9 minutes left – "Maathorneferure name is a mocking"
This refers to the historical wife of Ramses II, Maathorneferure, daughter of a Hittite king. Her name possibly means "One who sees the beauty of Ra", associating her with sun worship and royal divinity.
In Islamic commentary or reflections, such names might be viewed as symbols of arrogance or misplaced allegiance — mocking truth by claiming divine beauty or legitimacy while opposing divine truth (as represented by Musa and Asiyah).
It could also be a symbolic critique of idolatrous culture mocking monotheism — a contrast between names that invoke false divinity vs. hearts that submit in humility (like Asiyah).
5. 8 minutes left – "How impressive Egypt was with the painted colour's still fresh on the wall and the green"
Ancient Egypt was visually magnificent: lush Nile greenery, vibrant colours in temples and tombs, awe-inspiring architecture.
This point likely highlights the aesthetic and material power of Egypt, which made the moral and spiritual courage of Musa and Asiyah all the more astounding. They walked away from everything the eye admires, because they saw something deeper.
Asiyah left behind the palace. Musa turned his back on royal privilege. They prove that spiritual truth can outshine worldly glory.
6. 6 minutes left – "Bridging from the ‘Season of Asiyah’ into the ‘Orbit of Maryam’ – Judea colonised by Rome"
This marks a narrative and thematic transition: from one imperial context (Pharaonic Egypt) to another (Roman Judea).
Asiyah resists an empire built on slavery and false divinity.
Maryam lives under the oppression of Roman occupation and patriarchal religiosity.
Both women live under foreign imperial rule. Both give rise (literally and symbolically) to saviours of their people — Musa and 'Isa (Jesus). This suggests a continuity in the feminine spiritual archetype: women who protect and bear truth amidst tyranny.
7. "How one ancient civilisation impacts another… "
Egyptian civilisation influenced successive cultures:
Greek and later Roman ideologies drew from Egyptian science, mysticism, and kingship models.
Rome inherited Egyptian obsession with grandeur, symbols of divinity, and empire.
Yet, within these borrowed structures, true revelation arrives to upend them — in Musa’s time through resistance, in Maryam’s time through miraculous birth and prophetic mission.
Thus, the outer legacy of civilisations travels — art, architecture, governance — but divine truth regenerates independently, always challenging power.
🔹 Summary Reflection
This is rich with themes of:
Faith as active energy (masculine and feminine)
The path from struggle to surrender
Divine resistance in the face of seductive empire
The spiritual lineage of women like Asiyah and Maryam — who mother or raise prophetic light under oppressive systems.
Masculine & Feminine Energies: Escaping Struggle Through Trust in the Divine
We all carry within us both masculine and feminine energies — the doing and the being, the driving force and the receptive flow. But in a world obsessed with control, performance, and constant motion, many of us are locked in cycles of struggle, burnout, and internal imbalance.
Struggle comes when we force outcomes from a place of fear, scarcity, or ego — whether through over-functioning (a distorted masculine) or over-pleasing and self-abandonment (a wounded feminine).
But healing begins when we trust.
When we allow the Divine to Lead, we soften the grip of fear. We stop needing to hustle for our worth. The healthy masculine within us learns to move with intention, not aggression. The healthy feminine reclaims her space — intuitive, grounded, receptive to Divine Guidance.
Escaping the struggle doesn't mean we stop showing up. It means we stop striving from a place of separation.
It means we:
Act from alignment, not anxiety.
Rest in faith, not fear.
Embrace surrender, not passivity.
True balance is not about 50/50. It's about harmony — where both energies serve their higher purpose, under Divine Authority.
So pause. Breathe. Ask yourself:
Am I trying to control, or am I being led?
Trust that what's meant for you will never miss you. Return to that sacred stillness where struggle dissolves… and only trust remains - bi ithni Allah.
Want more?
Check out this ‘Season of Asiyah - 2021’ Playlist on ‘The Maternalist Quartet’ channel on YouTube:
https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3hcuJsf_X5uenm2Z_lsYi4yRV5dv3MUg&si=ow0x5enbJZHlgcxi
