The Spirit of Excellence: Reflections from At-Taqwa Mosque, UMJ

Ramadan always presents a broader space for reflection than mere personal worship. It also provides a space to contemplate the journey of the Muslim community, nation, and civilisation. One evening at At-Taqwa Mosque at Muhammadiyah University of Jakarta (UMJ), I had the opportunity to attend a Ramadan lecture attended by Rector Ma’mun Murod, Vice-Rectors, and the university’s academic community. The speaker was Hajriyanto Thohari, an intellectual described by Professor Ma’mun as a “walking library” for his vast knowledge and extensive reading.

As someone living at the intersection of academia, organisational activism, and politics, I felt that the lecture was more than an ordinary Ramadan sermon. It felt like a brief lecture on civilisation. Mas Hajri invited us to reconsider an important concept: the spirit of excellence. According to him, every great civilisation possesses a collective belief that they have a historical mission to excel and lead the world.

The American nation possesses the concept of American exceptionalism—the belief that they have a historical mandate to be the world’s leading nation. In Jewish tradition, there exists the concept of chosen people, a nation that feels it has a special role in the course of human history. Such beliefs are not merely theological concepts, but become social energy that shapes a nation’s advanced mentality.

But what of the Islamic community? In the Qur’an, Muslims are described as khairu ummah, the best community brought forth for humanity. Allah states in Surah Ali Imran, verse 110:

“You are the best community brought forth for mankind: you enjoin what is right, forbid what is wrong, and believe in Allah.”

This verse not only identifies Muslims as the best community, but also explains the conditions. Excellence does not come automatically. It must be realised through moral commitment, social courage, and faith expressed in concrete action.

Yet Mas Hajri’s reflection posed a thought-provoking question: if the concept of excellence is so clear in Islamic teachings, why do Muslims often lag behind in many fields in today’s global reality?

This question feels particularly relevant to the university world. Universities are fundamentally spaces for cultivating excellence. In Islamic history, centres of civilisation emerged from strong intellectual traditions. Baghdad, Córdoba, and various classical Islamic centres of learning stand as testimony that the community’s glory was once built upon a strong culture of reading, writing, and thinking. Civilisational excellence does not emerge from rhetoric, but from sustained intellectual discipline.

Mas Hajri also touched upon an interesting fact: in several Middle Eastern countries, superior educational institutions have largely been established by Christian missionary organisations. In Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan, schools and universities founded by Christian missionary missions have produced many political and intellectual leaders in the region. Education, in many cases, became the most effective instrument in building civilisational influence.

For me, this reflection felt highly relevant not only as an academic, but also as an organisational activist and participant in national political dynamics. In my experience with organisations and politics, I have observed that a nation’s excellence does not emerge suddenly. It is built through an ecosystem of education, leadership, and a meritocratic culture that creates space for young generations to emerge and contribute.

In the context of Indonesian nationhood, the spirit of excellence is closely linked to human resource development. The state needs a generation that is not only intellectually capable, but also possesses moral integrity and a spirit of service. Without this, development will only produce fragile progress.

Ramadan offers a particularly opportune moment to rekindle this awareness. Fasting is not merely spiritual exercise, but also practice in building self-discipline and mental resilience. In the context of the community and nation, Ramadan should be a moment to revive the spirit of achievement and contribution to society.

Towards the end of his lecture, Mas Hajri conveyed an important message about generational renewal. He described young people as “fresh blood” who must step forward to assume leadership roles, whilst the older generation provides experience and support so that the regeneration process unfolds healthily.

This message feels highly relevant to many areas of our lives—whether in academia, civil organisations, or politics. Regeneration is not merely a change of generations, but a process of maintaining the continuity of values and vision of struggle.

That evening’s reflection at At-Taqwa Mosque seemed to remind us of something fundamental: the excellence of the community does not emerge from nostalgia for past glory. It emerges from continuous intellectual effort, from strong educational institutions, from principled leadership, and from young people who dare take responsibility for the future.

The spirit of excellence ultimately is not merely about being superior to others. It is a commitment to continuously improve oneself and bring broader benefit to society. In Islamic tradition, excellence is always measured by its benefit—how great is our contribution to humanity.

And perhaps therein lies the deepest meaning of Ramadan: building excellent people, who are not only righteous in their personal lives, but also capable of bringing light to their community and nation.