Death is repeatedly compared with sleep, which is at times described as “the little death.” God takes away people’s souls “during their sleep” and “upon their death.” He “retains those against whom he has decreed death, but returns the others to their bodies for an appointed term” (39:42–43). During death, the soul “rises into the throat” (56:83) before leaving the body. These are interesting passages in the light of modern medical knowledge. The study of sleep has identified the episodic occurrence of short periods during which the limbs are totally flaccid and without reflexes, as would be the limbs of the recently dead. Modern neurophysiology, moreover, stresses the role of structures in the upper part of the brain stem in the maintenance of the waking state. Lesions just a little higher (in the hypothalamus) cause excessively long episodes of sleep. Irreversible damage at these sites is part of the modern concept of death. Finally, various types of breathing disturbance are characteristic of brain-stem lesions and could have been attributed, in former times, to occurrences in the throat. Nothing in these passages outrages the insights of modern neurology. The absence of any cardiological dimension is striking.
It is orthodox Muslim belief that when someone dies the Angel of Death (malāk al-mawt) arrives, sits at the head of the deceased, and addresses each soul according to its known status. According to the Kitāb al-rūh, wicked souls are instructed “to depart to the wrath of God.” Fearing what awaits them, they seek refuge throughout the body and have to be extracted “like the dragging of an iron skewer through moist wool, tearing the veins and sinews.” Angels place the soul in a hair cloth and “the odour from it is like the stench of a decomposing carcass.” A full record is made, and the soul is then returned to the body in the grave. “Good and contented souls” are instructed “to depart to the mercy of God.” They leave the body, “flowing as easily as a drop from a waterskin”; are wrapped by angels in a perfumed shroud, and are taken to the “seventh heaven,” where the record is kept. These souls, too, are then returned to their bodies.
Two angels coloured blue and black, known as Munkar and Nakīr, then question the deceased about basic doctrinal tenets. In a sense this trial at the grave (fitnat al-Qabr) is a show trial, the verdict having already been decided. Believers hear it proclaimed by a herald, and in anticipation of the comforts of al-jannah (the Garden, or “paradise”) their graves expand “as far as the eye can reach.” Unbelievers fail the test. The herald proclaims that they are to be tormented in the grave; a door opens in their tomb to let in heat and smoke from jihannam (“hell”), and the tomb itself contracts “so that their ribs are piled up upon one another.” The period between burial and the final judgment is known as al-barzakh. At the final judgment (yaum al-Hisāb), unbelievers and the god-fearing are alike resurrected. Both are endowed with physical bodies, with which to suffer or enjoy whatever lies in store for them. The justified enter Gardens of Delight, which are described in the Qurʿān in terms of prevalent, but essentially masculine, tastes (37:42–48). At the reception feast on the Day of Judgment unbelievers fill their bellies with bitter fruit, and “drink down upon it hot water, drinking as drinks the camel crazed with thirst” (56:52–55). They then proceed to hell, where they don “garments of fire” (22:19) and have boiling water poured over their heads. Allāh has made provision against the annihilation of the body of the damned, promising that “whenever their skins are cooked to a turn, We shall substitute new skins for them, that they may feel the punishment” (4:56). Pleas for annihilation are disregarded. Although this is sometimes referred to as the “second death,” the Qurʾān is explicit that in this state the damned “neither live nor die” (87:13).
A special fate is reserved for the martyrs of Islām; i.e., for those who fall in a jihād (“holy war”). Their evil deeds are instantly expiated and the formalities of judgment are waived; they enter the Garden immediately. Similar dispensations are promised to “those who had left their homes, or been driven therefrom, or who had suffered harm” in the divine cause (3:195). For the Shīʾites, followers of the smaller of Islām’s two major branches, the prospects for martyrdom are even wider. A major event of the origin of Shīʾism, moreover, was the slaughter of the Prophet’s grandson, Ḥusayn, in 680; this heritage has imbued Shīʾism with a zeal for martyrdom. Some of the behaviour of Islāmic fundamentalists is explicable from this perspective.
A gentler strand in Islāmic eschatology produced, over the centuries, a series of reinterpretations or adaptations of the original doctrine, some of whose tenets were even claimed to have been only metaphorical. These tendencies, which stressed individual responsibility, were often influenced by the Ṣūfīs (Islāmic mystics).
Muslims accord a great respect to dead bodies, which have to be disposed of very promptly. The mere suggestion of cremation, however, is viewed with abhorrence. The philosophical basis, if any, of this attitude is not clear. It is not stated, for instance, that an intact body will be required at the time of resurrection. It is unlikely, moreover, that the abhorrence—which Orthodox Jews share—arose out of a desire to differentiate Islāmic practices from those of other “people of the Book” (i.e., Jews and Christians). The attitude toward dead bodies has had practical consequences; for instance, in relation to medical education. It is almost impossible to carry out postmortem examinations in many Islāmic countries. Medical students in Saudi Arabia, for example, study anatomy on corpses imported from non-Islāmic countries. They learn pathology only from textbooks; many complete their medical training never having seen a real brain destroyed by a real cerebral hemorrhage.
In 1982 organ donation after death was declared ḥallāl (“permissible”) by the Senior ʾUlamāʿ Commission, the highest religious authority on such matters in Saudi Arabia (and hence throughout the Islāmic world). Tales inculcated in childhood continue, however, to influence public attitudes in Islāmic nations. The widely told story of how the Prophet’s uncle Ḥamzah was murdered by the heathen Hind, who then opened the murdered man’s belly and chewed up his liver, has slowed public acceptance of liver transplantation. Kidney transplantation is more acceptable, perhaps because the Ḥadīth explicitly states that those entering the Garden will never more urinate. Christianity The Christian legacy
The spread of rationalistic and scientific ideas since the 18th century has undermined many aspects of religion, including many Christian beliefs. The church, moreover, although still seeking to exert its influence, has ceased to dominate civil life in the way it once did. Religion is no longer the pivot of all social relations as it once was in ancient Egypt and still is in some Islāmic countries. The decline of the church is epitomized by the fact that, while it is still prepared to speak of the symbolic significance of the death of Jesus Christ (and of human death in general), it has ceased to emphasize many aspects of its initial eschatology and to concern itself, as in the past, with the particular details of individual death. In the age of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the elaborate descriptions of heaven, purgatory, and hell in Dante’s Divine Comedy, while remaining beautiful literature, at best raise a smile if thought of as outlines for humanity’s future.