The Living Dialogue of Criticism: Between Preservation and Creation

Academic Researcher and Thinker
Criticism, at its heart, is far more than an instrument for exposing flaws. I have come to see it as a quiet but persistent force that shapes the evolution of thought itself. It operates not only by refining what already exists but also by opening spaces where new ideas can take root. Looking back on my own academic journey, and on many rich conversations with friends and mentors, I realize that genuine criticism acts less like a hammer striking down and more like a hand guiding forward, sometimes gently, sometimes with great insistence.
There is, of course, the obvious role of criticism: to strengthen and polish existing ideas. Identifying the gaps, the inconsistencies, the subtle weaknesses—this process is indispensable if knowledge is to remain alive and relevant. A well-placed critique can rescue an argument from becoming hollow or repetitive. Over time, I have found that the most valuable insights often come not from praise but from the careful, sometimes uncomfortable attention of a critic who dares to point where a thought is still fragile. Like a craftsman refining a piece of work, criticism teaches us to see our own thinking anew, to sharpen what has dulled, and to mend what risks falling apart.
Yet the deeper power of criticism lies, I believe, in its ability to provoke creation. True criticism is an act of opening, not closing. It challenges what we think we know and invites us to imagine what might lie beyond. I think often of my late friend and colleague, Dr. Walid Al-Sayed, whose untimely passing left a profound silence in our scholarly world. Our conversations about the so-called “Islamic city” were never about confirming established ideas; they were about questioning them—sometimes gently, sometimes with the full force of doubt. Dr. Walid had a gift for making even the most venerable concepts seem newly fragile, newly worthy of interrogation. In those discussions, I realized that questioning was not destruction; it was a form of care, a deep commitment to keeping thought alive and awake.
Through such dialogues, it became clear to me that criticism is not a linear process of correction followed by completion. It is a cycle, a dance between understanding and questioning, accepting and challenging. Sometimes it repairs, sometimes it breaks open—but always, it moves thought forward. And in that movement, it breathes life into fields of inquiry that might otherwise grow stale under the weight of tradition.
Reflecting on all this, I feel that criticism deserves to be seen not as a threat but as an act of trust—a trust that thought can grow, that our minds are capable of more, and that no idea, however cherished, is beyond refinement or renewal. It is through critical engagement, both of ourselves and of the ideas we inherit, that we honor the intellectual legacies we are part of, even as we dare to push them further.
In the end, criticism is not only about correcting; it is about believing that something better, something truer, is always possible.