True scientists are heirs of the prophets
Prophets brought people knowledge of morality and God; scientists bring knowledge of the laws of the universe. Both lead humanity from darkness to light.
I believe that a true scientist is an heir of the prophets — not by rank, but by calling: to lead people out of ignorance toward the light of knowledge. In our family this is expressed even in a name — Ilm (knowledge) and Nur (light).
When a discovery eases human suffering or nurtures the mind, it becomes a form of service. The Islamic tradition speaks of sadaqa — a ceaseless good deed: knowledge that people still use after a scholar's death remains such a good. And reason (aql) is the greatest gift of the Creator; to cultivate it in others is the path of wisdom.
Danger arises where material consumption becomes the only goal. A society that has lost its moral footing loses its immunity to the temptations of power and profit. Knowledge without conscience does not save — it arms.
This is seen most clearly in new technology. An artificial mind could free the world from hunger, disease and scarcity — and that would be a great good deed. Yet the same power, in the hands of greed, easily becomes a tool of control and inequality. The question is not the machine, but the human being who guides it.
History teaches that every action gives rise to a counter-action. Hope lies in keeping knowledge open and shared rather than the property of a few, and in letting conscience — not calculation — govern it. If reason prevails, along with that prophetic mission of the scientist, any technology becomes a shield rather than a poison.
We make history with our own minds — as our forefathers bequeathed to us.
My memories of my teacher
It was a great honour for me to be a student of the legendary scientist, teacher and founder of the mechanics school at Moscow State University — Khalil Akhmedovich Rakhmatulin (1909–1988). Legends often surround great people, but for me the real experience of living contact with my teacher mattered more.
World recognition
His “unloading waves” were studied all over the world, including Princeton, where Einstein lived. Despite all his honours — Hero of Socialist Labour, laureate of the Stalin (1945, 1949) and State (1981) Prizes — he remained an inwardly free man. He could afford irony toward the system he served, because he served not “the Party” but Science and Truth.
On the formula of socialism
On 11 February 1981 he flew to Samarkand, to the A. Navoi Samarkand State University, to take me to Moscow, to MSU. We arranged a morning tea at the Intourist Hotel, where prominent scientists of Samarkand gathered. Several moments of his speech stayed with me.
At that time it seemed to many that the system was unshakable. But he already saw “cracks in the foundation”. As a great scientist among his own, he allowed himself to be sincere and to judge the times honestly — and in effect he predicted the future of a whole state. He sensed the dramatic end of our Motherland, and to his last day he felt responsible for the fate of science and the country. It was then that he said with pain that creative energy was draining away into empty ideology, and he saw the absurdity of certain dogmas through the prism of rigorous mathematics.
The anxiety we felt in him was characteristic of the best representatives of the technical and scientific elite of that time, for several reasons:
- Technological lag. As a man responsible for defence projects, aerodynamics and complex systems (parachutes, balloons, wave processes), he saw that bureaucracy and the “stagnation” in the party apparatus were beginning to hold back scientific progress. His ironic formula about “socialism minus electrification” was not merely a joke — it was a bitter mathematical conclusion that ideology was ceasing to be backed by real development.
- Criticism of the party bureaucracy. Having come from the people (rising from the workers' faculty to academician), Rakhmatulin keenly felt the gap between the slogans of the CPSU and real life. His irony toward “certain party members” in 1981 was evidence that he saw the degradation of the party elite, increasingly made up of careerists rather than creators.
- Responsibility for the future. He often mentioned his grandson Sasha in the context of “difficult problems”. Perhaps his worry for the boy was not only about textbooks, but about the kind of world this child would have to live in if “stagnation” were not replaced by a qualitative leap. His grandson, Alexander Shamilyevich Rakhmatulin, later also followed the scientific path, becoming a physicist-mathematician and continuing the dynasty.