The secularization of Rumi

Rumi is everywhere. His quotes flood Instagram, bookstore shelves, and motivational speeches. Lines about love, longing, and the soul are presented as universal wisdom for anyone seeking “happiness” or “mindfulness.” But much of what we read today is not the Rumi who spent his life devoted to Allah and Sufism.

Take Coleman Barks, the American poet credited with bringing Rumi to the English-speaking world. Barks made Rumi famous outside Iran and Turkiye — but he doesn’t speak Persian, the language in which Rumi wrote. Instead, he interprets, adapts, and rewrites, often removing the spiritual and Islamic context entirely. The result is beautiful language, yes — but stripped of its soul.

Rumi was not a generic “love poet” or self-help guru. He was a Sufi mystic whose life revolved around God and spiritual discipline. In the Masnavi, he wrote:

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn’t matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair.”

Taken out of context, this becomes a vague call for self-discovery. But originally, it is an invitation to spiritual awakening, to purify the heart, seek Allah, and live ethically. Removing that framework is like taking a rose and ignoring its fragrance — the words remain, but the essence is gone.

Rumi repeatedly reminds us that love without God is incomplete:

“Don’t get lost in your pain; know that one day your pain will become your cure. The cure is in Allah.”

Yet today, millions consume Rumi without knowing the Persian words, the Sufi practices, or the Islamic framework that gave them life. The result? A mystic reduced to a brand, a spiritual guide reduced to Instagram inspiration.

This is not to dismiss translators like Barks — translation is valuable. But Rumi’s genius was never just in beautiful phrases. It was in his ability to connect the human heart to the Divine. Secularizing him allows us to admire the surface while losing the soul.

Rumi’s work asks us not just to feel, but to live with faith, ethics, and devotion. His poetry is a guide, still speaking across centuries. We just have to listen carefully, not superficially.

“Do not turn my words into ornaments. Let them awaken your heart to Allah.”