meaning, “What is this cry?”—even though this construes the primary masculine form in terms of the secondary feminine form—then it is all the more fitting and appropriate to allow a feminine noun to be understood in terms of a masculine one, since this construes the secondary form in terms of the primary one. This is a sound interpretation.
Two unsound objections have been raised against it, neither of which holds.
The first is that if a feminine noun may be understood in terms of a corresponding masculine noun, and vice versa, it would be permissible to say, using feminine verbs, kallamatnī Zayd (“Zayd spoke to me”) and akramatnī ʿAmr (“ʿAmr honored me”); or, using masculine verbs, kallamanī Hind (“Hind spoke to me”) and akramanī Zaynab (“Zaynab honored me”). Zayd and ʿAmr would be understood in terms of the feminine nouns nafs (self) and juththah (body), while Hind and Zaynab would be understood in terms of the masculine nouns shakhs (person) and shabah (bodily figure). Yet this is invalid.
This objection does not hold. They did not claim that this usage applies universally, but only that it is permissible. There is a difference between what is permissible on certain occasions and what applies consistently, such as assigning the nominative case to the subject and the accusative to the object. They never claimed that this usage belonged to the latter category.
Moreover, this objection is refuted by every usage that is permissible on some justifying grounds without being universally applicable. Such usages are too numerous to mention here, and no grammarian denies them. Is this anything but an attempt to challenge the rules of Arabic through doubts and alleged contradictions? Scholars of Arabic pay no heed to such things. Had they said that every feminine noun could be understood in terms of a corresponding masculine noun, and vice versa, the counterexample would have been valid. They said only that one may sometimes be understood in terms of the other for a benefit conveyed by that interpretation, such as the benefit we mentioned in understanding mercy as beneficence.
The second objection is that construing mercy as beneficence must involve either a literal or a figurative use, yet both are impossible. Mercy and beneficence are distinct, and neither necessarily entails the existence of the other. Abundant mercy may be present in someone unable to show beneficence, such as a mother who lacks the means, or someone in a similar situation. Conversely, beneficence may come from someone whose nature is devoid of mercy, such as a harsh king: he may show beneficence to some of his enemies and others in the interests of his kingdom, despite having no mercy.
Once it is clear that either can exist apart from the other, the term for one cannot be applied to the other, whether literally or figuratively. Why this is so in literal usage is evident. As for figurative usage, its condition is that the figurative meaning should suggest itself, allowing the mind to pass to it. If it is disconnected from the literal meaning, it will not come to mind.