When agreement kills growth

In the early stages of building a business, growth is often driven by clarity, speed, and conviction. Founders make decisions quickly, rely on their instincts, and push forward with a strong sense of belief in their methods. This decisiveness is not only necessary, it is often the very reason the business begins to grow. However, as businesses cross certain thresholds, particularly beyond the Rs 5 crore mark, the nature of growth begins to change. What once created momentum can quietly begin...

min read

In the early stages of building a business, growth is often driven by clarity, speed, and conviction. Founders make decisions quickly, rely on their instincts, and push forward with a strong sense of belief in their methods. This decisiveness is not only necessary, it is often the very reason the business begins to grow. However, as businesses cross certain thresholds, particularly beyond the Rs 5 crore mark, the nature of growth begins to change. What once created momentum can quietly begin to create limitations. In many professional environments, it is not uncommon to encounter business owners who are deeply convinced of their approach. Their methods have delivered results, their experience reinforces their judgment, and their confidence becomes a defining trait. Yet, in this very confidence lies a subtle risk that is often overlooked. When conviction turns into certainty without space for dialogue, conversations begin to narrow. Suggestions are heard, but not always considered. Perspectives are offered, but not always encouraged. Decisions are made, but not always explained. From the outside, this may still appear as strong leadership. Internally, however, a different dynamic begins to take shape. People start to agree more than they contribute. This is where many businesses unknowingly enter a critical phase. When teams, partners, or stakeholders begin to hold back their perspective, the quality of thinking around the business reduces. What appears as alignment is often silent disengagement. What looks like efficiency is sometimes the absence of challenge. Over time, this directly affects the decisions being made. At a Rs 5 crore level, this may not be immediately visible. Operations continue, revenue flows, and the business appears stable. But as the organisation attempts to grow further, this lack of diverse thinking begins to surface as a constraint. Growth slows, not because of lack of effort, but because of limited perspective. On the other side of this equation are individuals who consistently find themselves accommodating such dynamics. They recognise when their voice is not being fully heard, yet choose not to assert it. The intention is often to preserve relationships, avoid friction, or maintain a sense of professional ease. Initially, this approach appears collaborative. Over time, however, it begins to shape perception. When individuals do not express their perspective, they are gradually seen as agreeable rather than essential. Their presence is valued, but their input is not actively sought. In many cases, they become part of the process, but not part of the decision. This is where personal branding begins to influence business outcomes in ways that are not immediately obvious. A personal brand is not built only through visibility or achievement. It is built through how consistently one demonstrates clarity, confidence, and openness in moments that require it. It is shaped by whether people feel encouraged to think around you, or restricted in your presence. At higher levels of business, this distinction becomes critical. If people agree with you more than they challenge you, it may not be a sign of strong leadership. It may be an indication that your environment is no longer enabling better thinking. Similarly, if you find yourself constantly adjusting to others without expressing your own perspective, your contribution may be diminishing in ways that affect both your influence and your growth. Both situations carry a cost. They affect decision quality, limit innovation, and over time, restrict the scalability of the business itself. What makes this particularly challenging is that these patterns develop gradually, often going unnoticed until the impact becomes difficult to ignore. The most effective leaders recognise this early. They create space for dialogue without losing direction. They express conviction without dismissing perspective. They build environments where contribution is expected, not avoided. In doing so, they strengthen not only their business, but also their personal brand. For entrepreneurs operating at a stage where growth is no longer just about execution but about expanding thinking, this becomes an important point of reflection. If there is even a possibility that your current interactions are limiting the quality of thinking around you, it is worth addressing before it begins to affect outcomes. I work with a select group of founders and professionals to help them refine how they are perceived, communicate with greater impact, and build personal brands that support sustained growth. You may explore this further here: https://sprect.com/pro/divyaaadvaani In the long run, it is not only the decisions you make, but the thinking you allow around those decisions, that determines how far your business can truly grow. (The author is a personal branding expert. She has clients from 14+ countries. Views personal.)

The Sufi Ethics of War

Haji Syed Salman Chishty
Mar 12
3 min read

Religion, in its truest form, must restrain power, not sanctify violence.

In a world scarred by war, political tension and violent conflict, humanity must confront a fundamental question: can war ever be ethical? And if conflict is unavoidable, what boundaries must guide it?

Across civilisations, spiritual traditions have grappled with this dilemma. In Islam, especially through the lens of Sufism, war is not a celebration of power or conquest but a tragic and limited response to injustice, bound by strict moral and humanitarian principles.

The Sufi Perspective

The Sufi perspective begins with a profound truth: the most important battle is not on the battlefield but within the human soul.

Islamic teachings describe two struggles: the outer struggle against oppression and the greater inner struggle against anger, arrogance, greed and hatred. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) called this inner purification the greater struggle, or Jihad al-Nafs.

This remains deeply relevant today. A society or leadership that has not mastered its own ego cannot easily claim moral authority in war. Sufi masters warned that when ego and vengeance prevail, justice disappears.

The Qur’an permits fighting only in defence against aggression:

“Fight those who fight you, but do not transgress. Indeed, God does not love the transgressors.” (Qur’an 2:190)

This moral boundary is often forgotten in modern warfare. In Islamic ethics, war cannot be driven by expansionism, revenge or political ambition. It is justified only in defence of human dignity and against oppression.

Equally important are the humanitarian limits on warfare. The Prophet Muhammad forbade harming women, children, the elderly, monks and other non-combatants and prohibited the destruction of crops, water sources and places of worship. Even animals and nature were not to be harmed unnecessarily. More than fourteen centuries later, these principles still echo the foundations of modern humanitarian law.

The Qur’an presents humanity as one family under God, and its spiritual aim is reconciliation — justice tempered by mercy, and unity beyond division. As Jalaluddin Rumi wrote, “Beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” For Sufis, that field is where the heart remembers its Divine origin. At the core of these teachings is a simple truth: human dignity does not disappear in war.

One of history’s clearest examples of ethical restraint came with the peaceful conquest of Makkah. After years of persecution, exile and conflict, the Prophet Muhammad returned not with vengeance but with forgiveness, granting amnesty to those who had once been his fiercest opponents. For Sufis, this is the highest form of victory: not the defeat of an enemy, but the triumph of compassion over resentment. True strength lies not in destroying, but in forgiving when one holds power.

Today, one of the greatest dangers is the misuse of religion to justify violence and extremism. Sufi scholars have long warned that faith must never become a tool of political ambition or ideological domination.

Religion, in its truest form, must restrain power, not sanctify violence.

At the shrine of Khwaja Moinuddin Chishty of Ajmer Sharif, whose message has echoed across India for over eight centuries, the guiding principle remains simple yet profound: “Love towards all, malice towards none.” This is not merely a poetic sentiment but a practical ethical vision that rises above divisions of faith, nationality and identity.

India’s civilisational heritage reflects the same wisdom. The Sufi saints, the Bhakti movement, Guru Nanak’s message of equality and service, and Mahatma Gandhi’s nonviolence all affirm that true strength lies in moral courage and compassion.

In an interconnected world, war’s consequences do not end on the battlefield. They ripple across nations, economies and communities, leaving wounds that can last generations. From a Sufi perspective, faith is meant not to divide humanity but to awaken conscience. War may sometimes be an unfortunate necessity in defence of justice, but it must never be romanticised or normalised. Humanity’s true victory lies in preventing conflict through wisdom, dialogue and justice.

As Jalaluddin Rumi reminds us, “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.”

In a world weary of conflict, what humanity needs most is not louder weapons but deeper wisdom and compassion. In the Sufi understanding, war is not a celebration of strength but a tragedy of human failure. Its ethics exist to limit harm, protect the innocent and prevent tyranny — but its higher purpose is to awaken humanity to compassion, justice and unity under the Divine. The greatest victory is not over an enemy but over the darkness within the human heart.

(The writer is Gaddi Nashin, Dargah Ajmer Sharif and Chairman of Chishty Foundation. Views personal.)

When agreement kills growth

The Sufi Ethics of War

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