World Without Love
“He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.”
— Nineteen Eighty-Four, George Orwell
There is a new global famine and disease spreading across the modern world, particularly within wealthier societies. Yet this is no ordinary famine. It is a deadly one — subtle, invisible, and capable of destroying entire civilisations from within.
Why have we heard so little about it?
Because it is hidden beneath the surface of our daily lives, concealed by systems that shape, organise, and condition society. It is not discussed in headlines or measured in statistics, yet its effects are everywhere.
It is the absence of love.
Love has, in many ways, become an uncomfortable and almost embarrassing concept in our sterile, hyper-programmed society. Its decline is reminiscent of the dystopian world depicted in Nineteen Eighty-Four, where love itself becomes a rebellious act against a system demanding total emotional loyalty to the state. We comfort ourselves by believing such worlds are fictional, yet every social reality first existed as an idea in the mind of someone before it was implemented and normalised.
Through subtle forms of social engineering and psychological conditioning, men and women are increasingly persuaded that their work, productivity, and economic output matter more than their spouses, children, parents, or communities. A woman facing an unplanned pregnancy may feel pressured to terminate it because it is considered “inconvenient” or “financially unviable.” Couples delay marriage indefinitely due to financial insecurity. Elderly parents require care and companionship, yet their children often feel unable to support them because work commitments dominate their lives.
If we paused for a moment to reflect honestly on our condition, we might realise that much of this is not inevitable. It is learned behaviour — a way of living we have gradually been conditioned to accept.
In an Islamic worldview, however, the hierarchy of devotion is profoundly different. Our ultimate loyalty belongs first to God, then to our families, communities, and moral responsibilities. Work and material pursuits occupy a lower place. This understanding emerges from the principle of Tawhid — the affirmation of God’s absolute unity, sovereignty, and uniqueness.
The ideology through which we interpret life shapes our responses to others. If society is built upon materialism and individualism, relationships become transactional and fragile. But if it is rooted in divine consciousness, then mercy, sacrifice, and love naturally flourish.
So what, then, is love?
The Ancient Greeks identified several forms of love, recognising its complexity and depth. There is eros, romantic love grounded in attraction and intimacy; philia, the love of deep friendship and companionship; and agape, the highest form of love — unconditional, selfless, and merciful love. It is this agape that most closely resembles the love God extends toward His creation.
Today, however, society places overwhelming emphasis on self-love and self-preservation, while genuine sacrificial love steadily diminishes.
The Quran reminds us:
“And among His signs is that He created for you from yourselves mates that you may find tranquillity in them; and He placed between you affection and mercy.” (Quran, Surah ar-Rum, Chapter 30, Rome, Verse 21)
And again:
“Say, ‘I do not ask you for this message any payment [but] only good will through kinship.’” (Quran, Surah ash-Shura, Chapter 42, The Consultation, Verse 23)
It is said that the word “love” appears in the Qur’an dozens of times. The foundation of all love begins with God’s love for His creation. From this divine source flows the believer’s love for God, and from that love emerges compassion toward family, neighbours, and humanity itself.
This love must also extend beyond one’s own community. A sincere Muslim believer is commanded to uphold justice, compassion, and dignity toward the People of the Book — Jews and Christians — who likewise worship the One God. The Quran repeatedly calls humanity toward mutual understanding rather than hatred, teaching believers to engage others with wisdom, mercy, and beautiful conduct.
This spirit is beautifully captured in the words of Imam Ali ibn Abi Talib, who said:
“People are of two kinds: either your brothers in faith or your equals in humanity.”
In a world increasingly divided by tribalism, politics, and suspicion, these words remain profoundly relevant. Love rooted in God should soften the heart rather than harden it. A believer who truly knows God cannot become consumed by arrogance, cruelty, or hatred toward others.
However, love in the Islamic sense is not passive weakness, blind tolerance, or silent acceptance of oppression. To love humanity does not mean turning away from injustice or allowing cruelty to flourish unchecked. There can be nothing loving about permitting tyranny, exploitation, or suffering to spread through society while remaining indifferent in the name of “peace.”
True compassion requires moral courage. A believer is called not only to mercy but also to justice. The Quran repeatedly commands believers to stand firmly for what is right, even when it is difficult or personally costly. To defend the oppressed, protect the vulnerable, and resist corruption are themselves acts of love — because they seek to preserve human dignity and prevent unnecessary suffering.
A society that normalises injustice in the name of tolerance eventually becomes spiritually diseased. Love divorced from justice becomes sentimentality, while justice without love becomes cold and oppressive. Islam calls toward a balance between the two: mercy guided by truth, and strength tempered by compassion.
Even the prophets, saints, and righteous figures throughout history did not remain silent in the face of oppression. Their love for humanity compelled them to confront injustice rather than accommodate it. Genuine love seeks the flourishing of the human soul and the protection of human dignity, and sometimes this requires resisting systems, ideologies, or powers that degrade and dehumanise people.
To stand against oppression is therefore not a contradiction of love, but one of its highest expressions.
A godless society ultimately becomes a loveless one.
When I speak of a God-centred society, I mean one grounded in Tawhid: a society that recognises, affirms, and praises the One God — acknowledging His unity, majesty, mercy, and sovereignty. The truest response to such a God is not merely fear, ritual, or transaction, but a relationship built upon love, reverence, awe, and gratitude.
For the mystic and the sincere believer alike, love is the highest form of worship. It is the purest spiritual state: to love God so deeply that compassion overflows naturally into every human relationship. Without this sacred love, societies become cold, fragmented, and spiritually barren. Laws alone cannot sustain civilisation. Economies alone cannot heal the human soul.
Human beings thrive only when love exists between parent and child, husband and wife, neighbour and stranger — and this love can only endure when rooted in something greater than the self.
True love originates from the grace of God. Remove that divine source, and society slowly withers. Preserve it, and humanity flourishes.
Oh God, help us through your grace to live in this love - in the words and prayer of Imam Zayn al-Abidin, a member of the Ahl ul bait:
“O Allah, how sweet is the taste of Your love, and how delightful is the drink of Your nearness.”