Prof. Dr. Erol Göka
Many scholars consider the Qur’anic expressions concerning the creation of human beings—“clay shaped into form” and “a breath from His Spirit” (Qur’an, Surah As-Sajdah, 32:7–9)—as the foundational basis for other depictions of humanity. On one hand, we encounter a being created in ahsan-i taqwīm (the best of forms), courageous enough to bear the amānah (divine trust), the noblest of all beings, before whom angels were commanded to prostrate, and appointed as khalīfah (vicegerent) on Earth. On the other hand, we face a creature described as bloodthirsty, corruptive, impatient, greedy, insatiable, ungrateful, weak, miserly, obsessed with ambition and argumentation—one who has fallen to asfal as-sāfilīn (the lowest of the low). Because these opposing traits coexist within the same being, human psychology becomes the stage for a great trial, a vast and profound internal struggle.
From Logotherapy to Spirituality
Are there similar approaches in modern psychology to the inner world of human beings? While there are certain parallels in the approach of Melanie Klein, the child psychologist and psychoanalyst known for her work Envy and Gratitude, the influence is far more evident in the thought of Viktor Frankl, a psychotherapist best known in our country for his book Man’s Search for Meaning. Frankl, the founder of Logotherapy—referred to as the “Third Viennese School” after Freud and Adler—proposes that we are obliged to assign meaning to life, and that failure to do so results in a vacuum of meaning, leading to psychological disorders.
Frankl was imprisoned in Nazi concentration camps. All members of his family, except himself and his sister, were killed in gas chambers. He states that he developed Logotherapy based on his experiences in those camps. He observed that prisoners who believed they had future goals and duties to fulfill managed to survive despite being old and physically frail, whereas younger, stronger-looking inmates who lacked life goals could not endure the conditions, often dying or committing suicide. This observation became his starting point in developing his therapeutic approach.
According to Frankl, the most significant psychological issue of our age is the widespread experience of “meaninglessness” and the “existential vacuum.” The essence of human existence lies in the pursuit of concrete meaning; humans are always driven by a will to meaning. For Frankl—who contends that the greatest obstacle to happiness is the very act of pursuing it—there are three primary pathways through which people can fill this existential void and infuse life with meaning: creating a work or engaging in productive activity; entering into a relationship or experiencing something; and developing an attitude toward the suffering we inevitably face. He believes that happiness will follow in the wake of this striving for meaning.
Frankl provides remarkably insightful observations regarding the human orientation toward meaning and the unavoidable pains of life. However, his perspective on psychiatric disorders tends to be overly reductionist. His near-veneration of “meaning” is, frankly, peculiar. Rather than speaking of meaning as a singular ideal, it would be more accurate to refer to a constellation of meanings that bring benefit to the self and to one’s fellow human beings. We must not forget that the root problem in today’s world is not the unfortunate souls drowning in a crisis of meaninglessness, but rather fanaticism—an excess of meaning.
In any case, our current focus lies not so much on this critique but rather on the theological foundations of his views. Frankl’s ideas on this subject are presented in his book The Unconscious God: Psychotherapy and Theology, which has, for reasons unknown, been largely ignored within academic discourse.
Frankl harshly criticizes Freud’s conception of the unconscious for failing to account for the spiritual dimension of human beings. In Freud’s framework, the unconscious is a kind of demonic chaos—one governed by sexuality and aggression—whose manifestations in consciousness and human relationships are destructive, and which disregards the principles of logic and social norms. According to Frankl, such a view of the unconscious is inadequate, incomplete, and ultimately flawed because it omits the spiritual aspect of human nature. As he writes, “in the depths of the unconscious of every person, there lies a deeply rooted sense of religion” (p. 10). Consequently, what we might call the divine imperatives of “faith, hope, and love” also manifest themselves in the unconscious, forming the other half of human desire. Religion and psychology are so closely intertwined that they cannot be cleanly separated. The structure of human existence, Frankl argues, rises from the bottom upward—beginning with biology, moving through psychology and noology (the study of meaning), and culminating in theology.
Because of this content within the unconscious that directly connects us to the Creator and the afterlife, religion has remained influential throughout history and continued to shape human beings. The central conflict in human psychology has always been the tension between the demonic and the spiritual dimensions. Had the psychological sciences accepted “faith, hope, and love” as foundational tendencies within the inner world of human beings—just as they do destructive impulses like sexuality and aggression—they might have become far more beneficial.
For my part, I sought to refine, expand, and trace the philosophical roots and cultural parallels in the Muslim tradition of the “meaning”-centered path first pioneered by Viktor Frankl, especially in my book Is There Meaning in Life? (Hayatın Anlamı Var mı?, Kapı Publishing). Later, in my book Psychology, Existence, Spirituality (Psikoloji Varoluş Maneviyat), I attempted to approach human psychology and existence through this lens, defining our search for meaning in life and the foundational meaning-frameworks of a given era as “spirituality.” Curious readers may refer to these works; however, we began this essay with a different aim: to explore the possibility of a foundation capable of transcending the greed at the heart of today’s dominant liberal paradigm. Our intention was to challenge those who base their economic theories on the assumption that human nature consists solely of the desire for wealth, greed, and visibility. Let us now continue from there.
Determination and Perseverance Are Not Greed
Whenever we speak of determination and perseverance, we must also specify in which endeavors we ought to be determined and persevering. Our hope is that we demonstrate these qualities in pursuits that are intended for goodness—that is, in actions aimed at what is beneficial and righteous. Anything else produces the opposite effect and is not in our best interest.
One of the most frequently misused—and therefore diluted—concepts today is “success.” When we use the word “success,” we should always refer to a specific context. Yet now, we speak of success without regard to the circumstances, motivations, or implications. It no longer matters what we achieve, how we achieve it, for what purpose, or at what cost. The prevailing mindset is: “Succeed, no matter how!” However, the meaning of success varies depending on the situation and the individual. For example, as Muslims, our essential aim in life should be “to be good, to stay away from evil, and to try to keep others away from it.” This is the true standard by which we should measure success in all of our endeavors. Therefore, we should define true “success” as striving to be good, avoiding evil, encouraging others to do the same, working for the triumph of goodness, and activating the talents and potential granted to us by our Creator for this purpose.
The exams we pass in life, the diplomas we earn, the positions we attain, the money and property we acquire—these can only be considered “success” if they serve this purpose. Any other form of worldly gain, we believe—and ought to believe—provides no real benefit to anyone.
Determination and perseverance that do not enhance goodness or diminish evil are not only ineffective, but may even harm the refinement of the human soul. That is why, in everyday language, we instinctively make a distinction: we use the words “determination” and “perseverance” with a positive connotation, as if they are inherently tied to promoting good and reducing evil. In contrast, we use different terms for undesirable, negative forms of insistence and effort—calling them “ambition” and “greed.”
As for ambition and greed, we all generally know what is meant by them. But there is also a type of compulsive, obsessive striving—what we might call “pathological ambition and determination”—a kind of restless busyness akin to a bee that produces no honey. At the root of this condition lies a psychological state in which one is never quite sure of one’s actions; rather than convincing others, the person struggles to convince their own perfectionist mind. While not as widespread as ordinary ambition or greed, this obsessive disposition is found in a significant number of individuals. It calls for immediate measures to overcome such anxiety and to redirect time toward more meaningful purposes.
When we speak of diligence that has turned into obsessive anxiety (waswasa), it naturally raises the question of why our psychology resorts to such unproductive methods. The answer is a difficult one, and indeed, many psychological theories have emerged precisely because they offer different answers to this question. Let us not delve into those areas now, but remain within the bounds of what we know and what is useful.
The psychological responses we give to life’s difficulties and hardships are referred to as “coping mechanisms.” Researchers classify the patterned and personal coping mechanisms people display in response to anxiety-provoking real-life situations into two main categories: “active and avoidant,” or alternatively, “problem-focused and emotion-focused.”
Making an effort to resolve the source of anxiety—such as studying harder to overcome test anxiety—is considered an “active” coping strategy. On the other hand, choosing to behave as if the anxiety-inducing situation does not exist falls under “avoidant” coping. Numerous studies have investigated which of these strategies are more effective in various anxiety-inducing contexts, and almost universally, active strategies have been shown to be more effective and beneficial than avoidant ones.
Problem-focused coping strategies aim to directly address and resolve the source of anxiety. For instance, financial distress is dealt with by trying to earn more money. Emotion-focused strategies, by contrast, do not target the problem itself but seek to relieve the emotional distress it causes—by thinking of more positive alternatives, for example. Research shows that when the problem can be solved, problem-focused strategies are more effective; but in situations that cannot be changed—such as death or war—emotion-focused coping is more effective.
Thus, merely setting out with determination is not enough. What we strive for, and how we strive for it, also matters. As our readers know, we have often formulated the late Mehmet Akif’s motto of “determination and trust in God” as “struggle and surrender.” In my view, the dialectical unity of these two—struggle and surrender—constitutes what the Qur’an frequently refers to as ṣabr (patience). Determination and perseverance only find their true meaning when they are mentioned alongside patience.