iblis and the Fall

Note
(I employ the proper noun of 'God' in the following article for simplicity's sake, because the tale of Iblis encompasses the mythologies of several religions and faiths, all of which employ many different names and terms for their shared deity, but all of whom recognise him as the only one.)

Iblis is first introduced to us as an angel of the highest orders, and a favourite of his god, Yahweh, the All-Mighty. He was formed from a fire of such impeccable purity and beauty that not even smoke could touch it. In some tellings, he was an angel, later demoted to a djinn (also known as jinn, the plural of which is jinni, from which we get 'genie', like whom “you ain't never had a friend”). In others, he was the last of the djinn who once ruled Earth, but was raised by God to sit near him, as a reward for his love and faithfulness.

Angels were created as 'perfect' beings, capable only of loving and serving God. But, when God realised that love means more when given freely, he created Man, and when he viewed this new creation, God was pleased, and set it above all his handiwork. Furthermore, he commanded that the angels also bow to Man, to serve mankind as they serve him.

Angels come in classes with differing levels of power and understanding according to their purpose. The lowest of these simply went about their new directive of serving Man, because they could and can do nothing else. But Iblis was of the higher classes, tasked as Divine Accuser. It was his duty to walk amongst all of God's creation, with a full knowledge of the intricacies of all their natures, including the mind of Man. Iblis, while he cannot rebel against his programming, is, by necessity, able to reason according to the overriding love he bears his god. When he is commanded to bow at the feet of mere Man, he fails to comprehend the conflicting directives.

For humans, it is easy to see this as disobedience, hubris, rebellion, because we are capable of those choices. We can decide if someone deserves our love, and we can consciously choose who we follow, so we judge Iblis according to our own 'free will'. But, even the most powerful of angels are not permitted this choice. So, it is not arrogance, but genuine confusion when Iblis asks his god, “How can I, a being of smokeless fire who worships only you, the All-Mighty, grovel before a creature made of dirt?” He was not saying, “I could never humble myself that much,” but rather, “How could I possibly give to another, what belongs only to you?”

The source of Iblis' rage was not that God loved Man more than him. Iblis raged only when he was cast down for doing the only thing he understands; for failing to comply with an order that goes against his very design. His duty to love his master dominates him wholly, and, in accordance with the nature of a raging fire now unchecked, it consumed even the bearer himself. Yet, even when we meet him as Satan in the book of Job, he is not presented as a villain; far from it. See, it is not just on any day that he comes before his god, but on a day reserved for God's sons, wherein they come to do him honour.

Satan has no power to invade the courts of Heaven, so his presence here tells us that his welcome is yet in tact. His admittance in this company on this day tells us he is yet considered amongst the highest of them. Moreover, we see just how important he is by the fact that it is he who God first addresses. And God does not address him with, “What are you doing here,” as one might an intruder, but speaks to him as a father might a son who has been away from home. God calls him by name, and says, “Where have you been?” Satan responds that he has been doing the duty God assigned him. Because his duties mean no one would know better than Satan, God asks his opinion of this man, Job, the perfect example of devotion to God. Clearly, Satan here is still very much in the service of God. Satan then attempts to convince God that Man's love for him is not as pure as his own, and, in the fashion of nearly all deities, they proceed to make a game of Man's life, to prove their respective points.

Satan is no longer foremost in the affections of the All-Mighty, so, like a jilted lover who cannot accept that they must move on, he becomes consumed with the downfall of the one [mankind] who has replaced him. God does not stop this, because his sole concern is that he is desired, adored and praised by all his creation. You know the type; they have tired of the old lover, and have moved on to a new one, but they keep the old one around, because even their fawning desperation counts as attention. At the end of time, when God tires of the game, Satan will meet his eternal punishment, along with all who have opposed God. Meanwhile, Satan yet serves his divine purpose.

The first lesson we learn from Iblis is that our passions must never be allowed to rule us. Because Iblis' love is compulsory and has no chance of being revoked, God, the object of it, has no reason to cherish it; it is like a toy which can be picked up or discarded at will, and so quickly loses value. Satan is willing to risk the company of the worst of all creation anguishing of the fires of Hell for eternity, simply in the hopes that he might somehow convince the object of his passion to value him as he once did, even if that means trying to destroy his former lover's new interest. And he is willing to do this, all for someone who profits greatly from his devotion, but will never love him in return.

It is possible Satan does not see the ultimate futility of his actions, because the single-minded passion that is his programming may give him hope that he will one day succeed, though we know he will not. Either way, we cannot blame Satan for behaving thus, because he is simply unable to do otherwise. But, we who are able to act more freely can learn from his tale the lesson which must forever elude him. Iblis did not fall the moment he was cast out of Heaven. He fell when he allowed his passion to override his very well-being, corrupting the bright flame of his love into an envious and consuming inferno, cursing him with the source of his eternal torment.

To love someone truly is to be willing to see them as they are, rather than as we wish to see them. We must be able to understand when to pull back, or even to walk away. To do this, we must, above all, be able to love ourselves. Of everything in our lives, and even the people we most love, we must continually ask ourselves, “Does this merit my devotion?” And we must be able to answer that question with objective honesty, otherwise we risk destroying all that we are, and all we could ever be.