The Staff Rebellion

Examining the history of nomadic pastoralism across Asia—from the Caucasus and Central Asian steppes to ancient Mesopotamia—reveals a consistent pattern: settled elites have repeatedly waged war against pastoral peoples. Both the Bible and the Qur’an emerged from nomadic pastoral societies, yet these same texts were later weaponized by sedentary civilizations against the very peoples once nurtured by them. We are witnessing this tragic pattern unfold again in real time—perhaps in its most brutal form yet—with escalating consequences that now reach into the heart of the West, the heir of Greco-Roman hubris.

Even in pre-biblical East Asian traditions, such as the Confucian Book of Odes, herdsmen arrive with their flocks to establish an unnamed prince—a figure who emerges not from the city but from the periphery to usher in an era of divine justice. This archetype, consolidated in the Bible and the Qur’an, becomes active in the world whenever and wherever the voice from the pasture rises against the corruption of the palace.

This is the Voice of the Scriptural God—
The Voice of the Shepherd.
It will not be silenced.
It cannot be bought.
It does not serve a throne.
It does not belong to anyone.
It roams freely upon the earth,
calling its flock from the outlands, out of the city to the wilderness.

The Biblical Jesus is near, habibi—
And it’s time for the Lord to act.

It’s time for Ibrahim’s Discords.

سُبْحَانَ مَنْ جَعَلَ فِي الْحَمْدِ نُورًا
(subḥāna man jaʿala fī al-ḥamdi nūran)
“Glory to the one who placed light within praise.”

This week, I discuss Luke 8:32-34.

Photo by Cajeo Zhang on Unsplash

Show notes

ἀγέλη (agelē) / ע־ד־ר (ʿayin–dalet–resh) / غ–د–ر (ghayn–dāl–rāʾ)

In the Gospel of Matthew, we are warned that God will separate the sheep from the goats. Mishearing this, the rule-followers among us foolishly turn their gaze outward, seeking to teach others which rules to follow. In doing so, they become goat-finders and goat-fixers—lions and bears who come not to protect the flock but to steal sheep from it.

But in Luke’s application of ע־ד־ר (ʿayin–dalet–resh) from the Song of Songs, this dichotomy is flipped on its head. When the mashal unfolds at the Decapolis in Luke, the Song’s poetic use of ἀγέλη (agelē)—interchanging goats and sheep—reveals the Bible’s mockery of human rule-followers. The constant switch between goats and sheep in the Song of Songs reflects a deliberate poetic symmetry: the goats evoke movement and allure (hair), while the sheep evoke purity and precision (teeth).

This imagery, drawn from real pastoral life, is repurposed to undermine self-righteous Hellenistic legal constructs. There is no intent in the text to constrain the beloved or to define her by a boundary. Rather, it moves freely—dark and light, wild and ordered, descending and ascending—a complete pastoral image that cannot be systematized. The beloved is named not to be limited, but to be delighted in—not judged, but adored.

David said to Saul, “Your servant was tending his father’s flock [הָעֵדֶר (hā-ʿēder)], and when a lion or a bear came and took a sheep from the flock…” (1 Samuel 17:34)Know well the c