Imam Nawawi was not only a scholar of extraordinary knowledge or a saintly man of ascetic devotion. He was, above all, a guardian of truth—a soul who stood unwavering when injustice darkened the door of the common folk.

When the ruling powers once again began to oppress the people, Imam Nawawi’s conscience flared like fire. He rallied the scholars around him, determined to confront the creeping cruelty. The Sultan, alarmed, sent him a message, sharp with threat: “Are you the one gathering the scholars? Do you think you can challenge the order? If so, you will be removed from Dār al-Ḥadīth.”

But Nawawi’s reply was a thunderclap.

He penned a long, fierce letter. Its heart burned with scripture, its spine was unshakable principle. The Sultan had tried to claim some scholars supported his policy. Nawawi dismantled the claim with clear citations and refutations. He declared: “No scholar who fears Allah and sees the Ummah as his trust would ever support what you are doing.

You cannot frighten me. I will not abandon my concern for the people.

If you see me as your opponent, so be it—but know this: my love and anger are both for Allah alone.”

He continued: “You threaten to cut off my sustenance?

I do not eat from your hand. Are you the Lord of the heavens and the earth? Have you been appointed over my provision or fate? Gather all your cavalry, your soldiers, your court—do what you will. If you come to kill me in the path of Allah, I will only say: Praise belongs to Him.

You cannot shake a man who seeks only the pleasure of the Most High.”

And then, in that same breath of fire, he ended with prayer: “Still, I pray that Allah guides you toward what is right. Victory belongs to the sincere.”

Quoting the Prophet ﷺ, Nawawi reminded the Sultan:“There will always be a group from my Ummah who will stand firm upon the truth, unshaken by those who oppose them.”

“These,” Nawawi said, “are the scholars. Know it well.”

Like this, Imam Nawawi intervened whenever the lives of ordinary people were at risk.

When a great famine struck Damascus and its surroundings, prices soared, livestock died, and hunger spread like wildfire. The ruling authorities, silent and cold, did nothing.

Nawawi once again rose to action. He gathered the city’s leading scholars—Shaykh Abu Muhammad (Hanafi), ʿAbd al-Salām al-Sawwāfī (Maliki), Shaykh Abu Bakr al-Shirīzī, Ibn al-Armāwī, the mufti and preacher of Damascus, Abu Hāmid. Together, they drafted a plea. Nawawi was the one who wrote the letter.

The letter was sent to the Sultan through Amir Badr al-Dīn Khāsandār al-ʿAllāhirī, a righteous man who admired scholars and honored their trust.

Nawawi’s words were heavy with truth:“In the Name of Allah, From ʿAbd Allāh Yaḥyā al-Nawawi, Peace be upon you. May Allah establish you in goodness.

The people of Shām are suffering. Rain has been scarce. Prices have surged beyond reach. Crops are vanishing. Animals are dying.

We plead with you—show mercy to your subjects. Fulfill the role of a just ruler.

This message comes not from one man, but from the leading scholars of the land. It reaches you through a trusted emissary.

On the Day when neither wealth nor children will benefit, let this not stand as an indictment against you.

You are known to be a man who desires good. Let this be your opportunity.”

The Sultan received the letter.

But his response? Arrogant and dismissive. He mocked the scholars, belittled their concerns.

Nawawi would not let that stand.He sent a second letter—firmer, sharper. He rebuked the government’s hoarding of public funds while the people starved. He condemned the excuse of “jihād” being used to collect taxes from farmers and the poor, only to lavish it on soldiers and palaces.

“These funds belong to the people,” he wrote, “not to the whims of princes.”

“If you truly want victory in jihād, seek help from Allah. Follow the Prophet’s path. Adhere to the rules of the Sharīʿah. Do not exploit sacred causes for political convenience.”

And when the Sultan’s men accused Nawawi of criticizing only Muslim rulers and remaining silent toward non-Muslim governments, Nawawi replied: “Why should I speak to rulers who neither believe in our law nor have taken an oath to uphold it? But as for you—you claim to rule by this dīn. So you will be held accountable by it.”

He ended with serene defiance: “You may try to silence me. You may threaten me. But you will not deter me.

I do not fear your wrath. I fear betraying the truth.

This world is brief. The Hereafter is eternal.

I entrust my affairs to Allah, who sees His servants.

You have done many good things—I acknowledge them.

And I pray they await you in the next life.

But if I had not sent this message, I would have no defense before my Lord.”

Imam Nawawi also stepped in to defend the teachers of his time.

When the state issued a circular forbidding scholars from teaching in more than one madrasa, Nawawi could have remained silent—after all, he took no salary himself. But his heart ached for the poor muʿallimīn, the underpaid teachers who depended on multiple posts to survive.

He penned a formal appeal: “To serve those in power with sincerity is a scholar’s duty.

We have learned of a new policy that restricts teachers from serving across institutions. This is a matter of grave concern.

Many of these teachers are the sole providers for their families. They are sincere, capable, learned. Some may fall short, but many are pillars of knowledge and carriers of the Prophetic trust.

Angels lower their wings for such men. Even the fish pray for their forgiveness. You, as rulers, have been entrusted with their care. Let there be no hardship placed upon them.

The Prophet ﷺ said: ‘If someone is given authority over my Ummah, let him show mercy—then Allah will show him mercy.’

And:‘When scholars come to your gates, treat them with dignity—for they are the heirs of the prophets.’

He closed with a reminder from history: “When the vizier Niẓām al-Mulk once allocated a large sum for students, the Sultan opposed it.

The vizier replied:‘O King, this is an army that defends your kingdom even in the darkness of night.’

And the Sultan relented.This is the kind of vision we need now.

May Allah allow us to act in accordance with His love and approval.

All praise to Allah. Peace and blessings upon His Messenger.

Wa al-salām.”

Imam Nawawi never hesitated to oppose anything that undermined the people’s faith. Even when certain mystics performed acts that stirred the imagination but confused the public, he would question them out of concern that ordinary believers might be misled.

One such case involved the famous mystic Shaykh Khalr, a man known for esoteric visions and his closeness to the ruler. Nawawi went to him personally.

Witnesses recall that Nawawi’s tone was sharp, his concern clear. The Shaykh did not take kindly to this and ordered Nawawi to leave. But the Imam remained unshaken.

“I have spoken only what I believe is right,” he said.

“My only concern is the well-being of the Muslim community.”

And still, his heart was tender.

Once, relatives of Shaykh Khalr asked Nawawi: “On the Day of Judgment, will you remember us?”

He smiled and answered: “If I am granted any standing there, I will not enter Paradise until I bring every person I’ve ever known with me.”

Imam Nawawi was not merely a scholar, nor merely a saint.
He was a witness to truth, a servant of the people, and a soul who walked toward God, refusing to leave anyone behind.