Muhammad Zahid ibn Hasan al-Kawthari al-Hanafi al-Ash‘ari (1296-1371), the adjunct to the last Shaykh al-Islam of the Ottoman Caliphate and a major (mujaddid) of the fourteenth Islamic century. He studied under his father as well as the scholar of Qur’an and hadith Ibrahim Haqqi (d. 1345), Shaykh Zayn al-‘Abidin al-Alsuni (d. 1336), Shaykh Muhammad Khalis al-Shirwani, al-Hasan al-Aztuwa’i, and others. When the Caliphate fell he moved to Cairo, then Sham, then Cairo again until his death, where the late Shaykhs ‘Abd al-Fattah Abu Ghudda and ‘Abd Allah al-Ghumari became his students. Following is his prestigious chain of transmission in fiqh:
Imam al-Kawthari (d. 1371) took fiqh from his father, and also from the hadith master Ibrahim Haqqi (d. 1345) and from Shaykh Zayn al-’Abidin al-Alsuni (d. 1336).
Al-Kawthari’s father took fiqh from the hadith master Ahmad Dya’ al-Din al-Kamushkhanawi al-Naqshbandi (d. 1311) the author of the hadith index Ramuz al-Ahadith.
who took fiqh from Sayyid Ahmad al-Arwadi (d. 1275)
who took fiqh from the hadith master Muhammad Amin, Ibn ‘Abidin (d. 1252), whose chain is given elsewhere.
Both Haqqi and Alsuni took fiqh from the hadith master Ahmad Shakir (d. 1315)
who took fiqh from the hadith master Muhammad Ghalib (d. 1286)
who took fiqh from Sulayman ibn al-Hasan al-Kraydi (d. 1268)
who took fiqh from Ibrahim al-Akhiskhawi (d. 1232)
who took fiqh from Muhammad Munib al-’Aynatabi (d. 1238)
who took fiqh from Isma’il ibn Muhammad al-Qunawi (d. 1195)
who took fiqh from ‘Abd al-Karim al-Qunawi al-Amidi (d.1150)
who took fiqh from Muhammad al-Yamani al-Azhari (d. 1135)
who took fiqh from ‘Abd al-Hayy al-Shurunbulali
who took fiqh from Abu al-Ikhlas al-Hasan al-Shurunbulali (d. 1069)
who took fiqh from ‘Abd Allah ibn Muhammad al-Nuhrayri
and from Shams al-Din Muhammad al-Muhibbi al-Qahiri (d. 1041)
who both took fiqh from ‘Ali al-Maqdisi (d. 1004)
who took fiqh from Ahmad ibn Yunus al-Shalabi (d. 948)
who took fiqh from ‘Abd al-Barr ibn al-Shahna (d. 921)
who took fiqh from Imam al-Kamal ibn al-Humam (d. 861)
who took fiqh from Siraj al-Din ‘Umar ibn ‘Ali Qari’ al-Hidaya (d. 829)
who took fiqh:
1) from ‘Ala’s al-Din al-Sirami (d. 790)
who took fiqh from Jalal al-Din al-Karlani
who took fiqh from ‘Abd al-’Aziz al-Bukhari (d. 730) [the author of Kashf al-Asrar, a manual of Usul al-Fiqh]
who took fiqh from Hafiz al-Din Imam ‘Abd Allah ibn Ahmad al-Nasafi (d. 701)
who took fiqh from the Sun of Imams Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Kardari
2) from Akmal al-Din Muhammad al-Babarti (d. 796)
who took fiqh from Qawwam al-Din Muhammad al-Kaki (d. 749)
who took fiqh from al-Husayn al-Saghnaqi (d. 711)
who took fiqh from Hafiz al-Din al-Kabir Muhammad ibn Muhammad ibn Nasr al-Bukhari (d. 693)
who also took fiqh from Muhammad ibn ‘Abd al-Sattar al-Kardari (d. 642)
Al-Kardari took fiqh from the author of the Hidaya, Imam ‘Ali ibn Abi Bakr al-Marghinani (d. 593)
who took fiqh from al-Najm Abu Hafs ‘Umar al-Nasafi (d. 537)
who took fiqh from the two Pazdawi brothers, Fakhr al-Islam (d. 482) and Sadr al-Islam (d. 493),
the first of whom took fiqh from the Sun of Imams al-Sarkhasi (d. 483) the author of the Mabsut,
who took fiqh from the Sun of Imams al-Halwa’i (d. 448)
who took fiqh from al-Husayn ibn Khidr al-Nasafi (d. 423)
who took fiqh from Muhammad ibn al-Fadl al-Bukhari (d. 381)
who took fiqh from ‘Abd Allah ibn Muhammad al-Harithi (d. 340)
who took fiqh from Muhammad ibn Ahmad ibn Hafs (d. 264)
who took fiqh from his father Abu Hafs al-Kabir (d. 217)
who took fiqh from the Imam Muhammad ibn al-Hasan al-Shaybani (d. 189) the companion of Imam Abu Hanifa,
while Sadr al-Islam took fiqh from Isma’il ibn ‘Abd al-Sadiq
who took fiqh from ‘Abd al-Karim al-Pazdawi (d. 390)
who took fiqh from the Imam of Guidance Abu Mansur al-Maturidi (d. 333)
who took fiqh from Abu Bakr al-Jawjazani
who took fiqh from Abu Sulayman Musa ibn Sulayman al-Jawjazani
who also took fiqh from the Imam Muhammad ibn al-Hasan al-Shaybani.
Al-Shaybani took fiqh from the founder of the madhhab Imam Abu Hanifa al-Nu‘man (d. 150)
who took fiqh from Hammad ibn Abi Sulayman (d. 120)
who took fiqh from Ibrahim ibn Yazid al-Nakha‘i (d. 95)
who took fiqh from [1] ‘Alqama ibn Qays (d. 62), [2] al-Aswad ibn Yazid (d. 75), and [3] Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman ‘Abd Allah ibn Hubayyib al-Sulami (d. 74 or 73)
‘Alqama and al-Aswad took fiqh from ‘Abd Allah ibn Mas‘ud (d. 32),
while al-Sulami took fiqh from Sayyiduna ‘Ali who was martyred in Kufa in the month of Ramadan of the year 40.
Both Ibn Mas‘ud and Sayyiduna ‘Ali took from the Seal of Prophets and Leader of the Radiant-faced ones, the Master of the First and the Last among angels, jinn, and human beings including Prophets and Messengers: who was taken to the Highest Company in the late morning of the Second Day of the week, the 13th of the month of Rabi‘ al-Awwal in the year 11, the blessings and greeting of Allah upon him, honor, generosity, and mercy, and upon his excellent and chaste Family as well as his pure and Godfearing Companions.
A tireless scholar, there is apparently no field of the Islamic sciences in which al-Kawthari did not have a well-founded claim to authority. He edited and brought back into circulation countless classical books of fiqh, hadith, and usûl after he moved to Cairo. A staunch Ash‘ari, he held an extremely critical view of anti-Ash‘aris, considering Ibn Taymiyya an unmitigated anthropomorphist. Among the books he authored as listed by his student Ahmad Khayri:
Bulugh al-Amani fi Sira al-Imam Muhammad ibn al-Hasan al-Shaybani, a biography of the foremost Hanafi authority after Imam Abu Hanifa.
Al-Fara’id al-Wafiya [or: al-Fawa’id al-Kafiya] fi ‘Ilmay al-‘Arud wa al-Qafya (“The Abundant Peerless Matters in the Two Sciences of Prosody and Rhyme”), published without the name of the author.
Fiqh Ahl al-‘Iraq (“The Jurisprudence of the Iraqi Scholars”), less than a hundred pages in length, it is one of the great works on the remarkable character of Hanafi fiqh and its school and contains useful definitions of key concepts such as analogy (qiyâs), scholarly exertion (ijtihâd), and discretion (istihsân) as well as biographical notices on the most eminent figures of the Hanafi school. It was meticulously commented upon by Shaykh ‘Abd al-Fattah Abu Ghudda. Excerpts:
(In praise of al-Zayla‘i) “If the students of fiqh find one among the hadith masters who is profoundly learned and truly insightful without being taken over by vain lusts – let them hold onto him tooth and nail, for such a type is, among them, as rare as red sulphur.”
The ‘Aqida Tahawiyya received several commentaries, among them that of Najm al-Din Abu Shuja‘ Bakbars al-Nasiri al-Baghdadi – one of Sharaf al-Din al-Dimyati’s shaykhs –, that of Siraj al-Din ‘Umar ibn Ishaq al-Ghaznawi al-Misri, that of Mahmud ibn Ahmad ibn Mas‘ud al-Qunawi, that of Sharh al-Sadr ‘Ali ibn Muhammad al-Adhra‘i, and others. A commentary was published, authored by an unknown [“Ibn Abi al-‘Izz”] spuriously affiliated with the Hanafi school, but whose handiwork proclaims his ignorance of this discipline and the fact that he is an anthropomorphist who has lost his compass.
• Bid‘a al-Sawtiyya Hawl al-Qur’an (“The Innovation of Asserting Pre-Existence for Qur’an-Recitation”) in which he states: “It is a fact that the Qur’an as found on the Tablet, on Gibril’s tongue and that of the Prophet e , as well as the tongue of all those who recite it, their hearts, and their tablets, is created, originated, and necessarily brought to be. Whoever denies this is a sophist who is unworthy of being heard. The pre-existent is only the concept that subsists in Allah I in the sense of Allah’s own self-discourse (al-kalâm al-nafsî) within His Knowledge, as expressed by Ahmad ibn Hanbal and Ibn Hazm.”
• Hadith Man Tashabbaha bi Qawmin fa Huwa Minhum (“The Hadith: ‘Whoever Outwardly Imitates A People, He is One of Them’”) in which he says: “This hadith is one of the pithy statements of the Prophet e . Al-Najm al-Ghazzi – one of the great Shafi‘i scholars of the eleventh century – authored a large volume titled Husn al-Tanabbuh li Ahkam al-Tashabbuh (“The Excellent Awakening to the Rulings That Pertain to Outward Imitation”) in which he examines at length the rulings inferred from this hadith. This volume is in Damascus’ Zahiriyya library and deserves to be published.” In the corollary article entitled Mansha’ Ilzam Ahl al-Dhimma bi Shi‘arin Khassin wa Hukmu Talabbus al-Muslimi bihi ‘Inda al-Fuqaha’ (“The Origin of the Imposition of a Distinctive Vestimentary Sign on Non-Muslim Citizens and the Juridical Status of Its Donning by a Muslim”) – written in response to Muhammad ‘Abduh’s fatwa permitting the donning of fedoras and top hats by Muslims – he cites the hadith of the Prophet e : “Dye your white hair and do not imitate the Jews” and mentions that Ibn Taymiyya adduced it as evidence that tashabbuh may take place passively on our part and without specific intention. This is a proof against beardless Muslims that wear a suit and tie “without intending to imitate non-Muslims” let alone those who endorse their fashions.
• Hijab al-Mar’a (“Woman’s Veil”) in which he adduced the report of Ibn ‘Abbas and ‘Ali’s companion ‘Abida al-Salmani – narrated by al-Tabari in hisTafsir – whereby the meaning of the verse [ they [women] should cast their outer garments (jalâbîb) over their persons] (33:59) included the face but for one eye. Ibn Rushd said that this verse has been adduced as proof that all of woman’s body constitutes nakedness while al-Qurtubi in his commentary on the verse said that the jilbâb is the cloak that conceals all of the body including the head. Another verse states [ And tell the believing women to lower their gaze and be modest, and to display of their adornment only that which is apparent, and to draw their headcovers (khumûrihinna) over their bosoms] (24:31), “only that which is apparent” meaning their face and hands according to most jurists, provided they pose no risk of enticement. The Hanbalis include the hands and face among the limbs that must be covered, as they read the above verses in the light of the Prophet’s e statement: “Woman is nakedness (al-mar’atu ‘awra), so when she goes out the devil is facing her, and the nearest she is to her Lord’s countenance is in the privacy of her house.” ‘A’isha defined the headcover as follows: “When a woman reaches puberty she must cover whatever her mother and grandmother must cover,” their khimâr being “nothing short of what covers both the hair and skin,” “without transparency.” She also said: “By Allah, I never saw any better women than the women of the Ansar nor stronger in their confirmation of the book of Allah! When Sura al-Nur was revealed [and to draw their khumûr over their bosoms] (24:31) – their men went back to them reciting to them what Allah had revealed to them in that [sura or verse], each man reciting it to his wife, daughter, sister, and relative. Not one woman among them remained except she got up on the spot, tore up her waist-wrap and covered herself from head to toe (i‘jtajarat) with it. They prayed the very next dawn prayer covered from head to toe (mu‘tajirât).” The two interpretations of the order to [draw their headcovers over their bosoms] among the women of the Companions and the generation that immediately succeeded them – on which are based the two views of the Four Schools, to cover everything or leave out the face and hands – stem from the fact that some women drew from the top down, some from the sides and over. The result for the first category was to cover the face, while the second category left the face uncovered.
• Khutura al-Qawl bi al-Jiha (“The Gravity of the Doctrine That Attributes Direction [to Allah I ]”) in which he reports al-Bayadi’s explanation of Imam Abu Hanifa’s statement: “Whoever says, ‘I do not know whether my Lord is in the heaven or on earth’ is a disbeliever and, similarly, whoever says, ‘He is on the Throne and I do not know whether the Throne is in the heaven or on earth’ is a disbeliever.” Al-Bayadi said in Isharat al-Maram: “This is because he implies that the Creator has a direction and a boundary, and anything that possesses direction and boundary is necessarily created. So this statement explicitly attributes imperfection to Allah I . The believer in [divine] corporeality and direction is someone who denies the existence of anything other than objects that can be pointed to with the senses. They deny the Essence of the Deity that is transcendent beyond that. This makes them positively guilty of disbelief.”
• Al-Lamadhhabiyya Qantaratu al-Ladiniyya (“Anti-Madhhabism is the Archway of Atheism”).
• Layla al-Nisf Min Sha‘ban (“The Night of Mid-Sha‘ban”) in which he cites the hadith whereby the Prophet e said: “The night of mid-Sha‘ban let all of you spend in prayer and its day in fasting, for Allah descends to the nearest heaven during that night beginning with sunset and says: ‘Is there no-one asking forgiveness that I may forgive them? Is there no-one asking sustenance that I may grant them sustenance? Is there no one under duress that I may relieve them? Is there not such-and-such, is there not such-and-such, and so forth until until dawn rises.’” Al-Kawthari commented: “The meaning of descent is His opening the gate of response to His servants, and this is true Arabic usage. As for explaining it as His displacement from top to bottom, it is ignorance of what is permissible and impermissible to apply to Allah I . Therefore, one has to explain it metaphorically as Allah’s sending down a herald sounding out this call, as indicated by al-Nasa’i’s narration; or, also metaphorically, as His ‘turning toward’ (yuqbilu ‘alâ) those who ask forgiveness etc. as related from Hammad ibn Zayd and others. Also, sunset and the last third of the night differ for each region, so both go on continuously according to each different region of the world. It cannot be imagined that a sensory descending is meant in all the formulations of the hadith of descent, and the hadith of mid-Sha‘ban is in the same category.”
• Ma Hiya al-Ahruf al-Sab‘a? (“What Are the Seven Wordings?”) in which he expressed the positions that the ahruf al-sab‘a were not dialects but synonyms, most of which were either abrogated or retained in their known current form.
• Mahq al-Taqawwul fi Mas’ala al-Tawassul (“The Eradication of Gossip Concerning the Use of Intermediaries”), a seminal article on the question.
• Tahdhir al-Umma Min Du‘at al-Wathaniyya (“Warning the Community About Those Who Call to Idol-Worship”), written in 1942, in which he lambasts al-Azhar for allowing the publication of ‘Uthman ibn Sa‘id al-Darimi’s al-Radd ‘ala al-Jahmiyya which contains phrases like “[Allah I ] moves if He wishes, descends and ascends if He wishes… stands and sits if He wishes”; “Allah I has a limit… and His place also has a limit, as He is on His Throne above His heavens, and these are two limits”; “if He wished, He would have settled on the back of a gnat” and other enormities. This is identical to Ibn Karram’s doctrine whereby “Allah has a body unlike bodies, and a limit.” Yet Ibn Taymiyya ardently defends al-Darimi’s views, citing them time and again in his attack on Fakhr al-Din al-Razi’s Asas al-Taqdis – a refutation of anthropomorphism – entitled al-Ta’sis Radd Asas al-Taqdis, even claiming that Imam Ahmad upheld the doctrine of that Allah I possesses a limit. At the same time he admits that Ahl al-Sunna did hold the opposite view: “The position that He is above the Throne but has no limit (hadd) nor dimension nor body is that of many of the upholders of the Divine Attributes (al-sifâtiyya) among the followers of Ibn Kullab and the Ash‘ari Imams including their early authorities and whoever agrees with them among the jurists … and the hadith scholars and the Sufis… among them Abu Hatim, Ibn Hibban, and Abu Sulayman al-Khattabi.” Then he states: “Al-Qadi [Abu Ya‘la] said that Ahmad asserts in absolute terms that Allah I had a limit but he negates it in Hanbal’s narration, saying: ‘We believe that Allah is on the Throne in the manner He wishes and however He wishes, without limit nor description anyone could give or define Him by.’ So he negated the limit that pertains to the description he mentioned, meaning the limit known by creatures… And that is the meaning of Ahmad’s statement: ‘Allah I has a limit that only He knows.’” The latter is in blatant contradiction of what is authentically reported from Imam Ahmad by his the major authorities of his school.
Among the books al-Kawthari edited or forwarded:
is criticized for what is perceived by some as excessive partisanship for the Hanafi school and a contentious style in refuting or attacking opponents. Shaykh ‘Abd Allah ibn Muhammad ibn al-Siddiq al-Ghumari (1328-1413) wrote in Bida‘ al-Tafasir (p. 180-181):
We admired al-Kawthari for his knowledge, wide reading, and modesty, just as we hated his bias for the Hanafis. This bias of his exceeded al-Zamakshari’s bias for the Mu‘tazili school to the point that my brother, the hadith master Abu al-Fayd [Ahmad ibn Muhammad ibn al-Siddiq al-Ghumari] used to call him “Abu Hanifa’s madman!” (majnûn Abi Hanifa).
When he offered me his espitle entitled Ihqaq al-Haqq [bi Ibtal al-Batil fi Mughith al-Khalq] (“Making Truth Prevail in Exposing the Falsehoods of Mughith al-Khalq“), a refutation of Imam al-Haramayn’s [Abu al-Ma‘ali ‘Abd al-Malik ibn ‘Abd Allah ibn al-Juwayni] epistle on the preferability of the Shafi‘i school [entitled Mughith al-Khalq fi Tarjih al-Qawl al-Haqq in which the Imam attacked the Hanafi and Maliki schools], I found him casting aspersions [cf. Ihqaq p. 19-20] on the [Qurayshi] lineage of Imam al-Shafi‘i, citing [the trustworthy hadith master Zakariyya ibn Yahya ibn Dawud] al-Saji’s statement [in his book Manaqib al-Shafi‘i]. I criticized him for this aspersion and said to him: “Questioning lineages does not constitute a scholarly refutation.” He replied: “A sectarian refuting a sectarian.” He said this verbatim, so he acknowledges his sectarianism.
I visited him in his house once, together with the noble Sharîf, al-Sayyid Muhammad al-Baqir al-Kattani, and as we discussed certain scholarly issues the name of the hadith master Ibn Hajar came up. Al-Sayyid al-Baqir showed his admiration of Ibn Hajar’s memorization and his commentary on al-Bukhari, and I echoed his opinion. Whereupon he deprecated that commentary and said: “Ibn Hajar used to depend upon hadith indexes (al-atrâf) when collating the different routes of the hadith,” which is untrue. Then he said that he – Ibn Hajar – used to follow women in the streets and make passes at them, at one time following a woman thinking that she was beautiful, until she arrived at her house with him in her tracks; when she removed her face-veil (burqu‘), she turned out to be an ugly black woman, so he turned back, frustrated.
Now, the reason behind this attack, is that al-Hafiz used to assail some of the Hanafis in his books of biography, such as al-Durar al-Kamina and Raf‘ al-Isr[‘an Qudat Misr]. He said of the Hanafi al-‘Ayni that he used to take the manuscript pages of Fath al-Bari from one of his students and use them in his commentary [on Sahih al-Bukhari, entitled ‘Umdat al-Qari]. When al-Hafiz found out, he prevented the distribution of these pages to students.
Worse than this, al-Kawthari imputed senility to Anas bin Malik for relating a hadith that contradicts the school of Abu Hanifa. Worse yet is his attempt to pass a fabricated hadith as authentic because it might imply the tidings of Abu Hanifa, namely, the hadith: “Were knowledge (al-‘ilm) to be found at the Pleiades, certain men from among the Persians would go there to obtain it.” The hadith is in the two Sahihs with the word “belief” [“Were belief (al-îmân)to be found at the Pleiades, a man from those people would go there to obtain it”], and when the Prophet e said it he put his hand on the shoulder of Salman al-Farisi t . Some forger then changed the word “belief” to “knowledge” as pointed out by my brother, the hadith master Abu al-Fayd, in al-Mathnuni wa al-Battar, who said: “Even if it were authentic there would not be in it any reference to Abu Hanifa but to the hadith masters who came out of Persia, such as Abu al-Shaykh and Abu Nu‘aym, for ‘ilm in the terminology of Islamic law means the Book and the Sunna, not juridical opinion (ra’î) and analogy (qiyâs).” Al-Kawthari took him to task in Ta’nib al-Khatib for saying this and replied to him with some harsh words, whereupon my brother wrote a reply to him in which he collected his scholarly blunders and the self-contradictions caused by his odious fanaticism, with some harshness, at the same time acknowledging his knowledge and learning. That reply was not submitted for publication out of deference for their friendship.The difference of opinion between two scholars does not break up their friendship and, like two lawyers differing in a court of justice, they meet as friends outside of it…. May Allah have mercy on my brother and on al-Kawthari, the two major scholars of their time without contest, and may Allah gather us with them in the Abode of His Mercy.
Following is Imam Abu Zahra’s eulogy of al-Kawthari after the latter’s death:
I do not know of any scholar who has departed and left his position vacant these past years such as the position Imam al-Kawthari has left vacant. He was the Remnant of the Pious Predecessors, who did not take knowledge as a source of income, nor as a stepping-stone to a worldly goal.
He was – Allah be well-pleased with him! – a scholar of learning who personified the transmitted report, “The ulamas are the inheritors of the Prophets.” He did not consider this inheritance a mere title of honor by which to pride himself and dominate others. Rather, he considered it a jihad for the purpose of announcing Islam, showing its truths, and banishing the illusions that conceal its essence. He would show it to people pristine and radiant so that they rose to its light and were well-directed by its guidance. He considered such an inheritance demand of the scholar that he strive just as the Prophets strove, standing firm against hardships and tribulations just as they did, remaining patient like them when faced by the stubbornness of those he called to the truth and guidance. Such inheritance is not an honor except to those who practice the means that lead to it, give it its due rights, and know the duties that come with it. Imam al-Kawthari did all of the above.
That distinguished Imam was not an adherent of a new school of thought, nor was he an inviter to a novel matter with no precedent, nor was he one of those whom people label nowadays as reformers. Nay, he used to shy from that, for he was a follower (muttabi‘) and not an innovator. Yet, in spite of that, I say that he was one of the Renewers (al-mujaddidîn) in the true sense of Renewal. For Renewal is not what people today commonly think, namely, casting off the noose and a return to the beginnings of Prophecy; rather, it consists in returning to the religion its splendor and dispelling the confusions that were cast over it, so that it will be shown to people in the purity of its essence and in its original pristine state. Renewal consists in giving life to the Sunna, causing innovation to die, and for the column of Religion to stand among mankind.
That is real and true Renewal and, indeed, Imam al-Kawthari undertook the revival of the Prophetic Sunna. He uncovered what had lain hidden in the alcoves of history out of the books of the Sunna; clarified the methods of its narrators; and made known to the people the Sunna of the Prophet e in its sayings, its deeds, and its tacit rulings through his epistles and his books. Then he devoted himself entirely to the efforts of the past ulamas who upheld the Sunna and gave it its due right. He published the books in which they compiled their works for the purpose of reviving the Sunna at a time when souls were imbued with love of the Religion, hearts had not yet been corrupted, and the scholars were not swayed by the world away from the hereafter nor spent time at the beck and call of rulers.
Imam al-Kawthari was a true scholar; the scholars knew his knowledge. I knew him years before meeting him. I knew him through his writings in which the light of truth shone forth. I knew him through his commentary of manuscripts which he undertook to publish. By Allah! My amazement at the manuscript did not match my amazement at the commentary of the editor. Even when the original manuscript was a brief epistle, yet the Imam’s commentary on it would turn it into a major work that should be read. Truly one’s insight and wide erudition show plainly in such commentaries. All this he did with an elegant style, subtle allusions, forceful analysis, accomplished accuracy, and total mastery over his own thought and writing technique. It could not occur to the mind of the reader that he was a non-Arab writer and not patently Arab. … Yet it is not really astonishing, for he was Turkish in ancestry, education, and everyday life at the time he lived in Istanbul (al-Astana) but his scholarly life was purely Arabic, for he read nothing but Arabic, and nothing filled his head but the shining light of Muhammadan Arabic. …
He came from a family in the Caucasus, as reflected in his vigor, strength, handsome body and spirit, and the quality and depth of his thought. His father moved to Istanbul where he was born in surroundings of guidance and truth. He studied the Islamic sciences until he attained the highest rank in them at around twenty-eight years of age. Then he ascended the ladder of teaching positions until he reached their highest level quite early. He reached the point when he was confronted by those who wanted to separate the world from religion in order to rule the world by other than what Allah has revealed, but he stood in ambush for them despite the fact that he was yet without experience, with everything that a young man at the beginning of his career could hope for. But he chose his Religion over their world. He chose to defend what is still left of Islam rather than have a pleasant life. He preferred to face continuous enmity while obtaining the good pleasure of Allah I rather than pleasure and comfort amidst people’s approval and the good pleasure of those who held the keys of the lower world. Obtaining the good pleasure of Allah is truly the goal of faith.
He fought the promoters of atheism (al-ilhâdiyyîn) in power when they tried to shorten the period of study for the religious curriculum when he saw that to shorten it would jeopardize its preliminary and final parts, so he left no stone unturned until he did away with their wish and even lengthened the period that they were trying to cut short, so that students would be able to absorb and digest all the disciplines they needed, especially for non-natives learning in a patent Arabic tongue. …
He strove with all his might and effort – may Allah be well-pleased with him – on the loftiest paths until he became Deputy of the Office of Shaykh al-Islam in [Ottoman] Turkey. He was among those known to give such a post its due. He never exceeded bounds so as to please someone high-placed, no matter how great their power over him, eventually preferring to be expelled from his position for the sake of upholding the public good. It is better to be expelled for the sake of truth than to implement falsehood. …
Then the lofty-minded, abnegating, Godwary scholar was put to the severest test when he saw his dear country – the Great Land of Islam, the pivot of his strength, the locus of hopes for Muslims – overshadowed by atheism and taken over by those who do not wish any honor for this Religion. The one who clings to his Religion in such a place soon becomes like one clasping a burning coal. Then he finds himself targeted by persecution so that unless he escaped, he would be thrown into some forlorn prisons and blocked from all that is knowledge and teaching. At that point, the Imam faced three choices. Either to remain a prisoner in chains, his knowledge put out in the deep gaol; a harsh fate for a scholar of learning accustomed to teach and guide others, extracting the treasures of the Religion and bringing them to light for the benefit of humankind. Or grovel and flatter and kowtow, short of which he would remain in fetters or even risk losing his life. Or emigrate – and vast are the lands of Allah. He remembered the saying of Allah, [Was not the earth of Allah spacious that you could have migrated therein?] (4:97).
So he emigrated to Egypt then moved to Syria. He then returned to Cairo, then went back to Damascus again, until he finally settled in Cairo.
During his trips to Sham and his residence in Cairo he was a beacon of light. His residence expanded into a school to which flocked the students of true knowledge – not the students of schoolish knowledge. Those students were guided to the sources of knowledge through the books that were written when the marketplace of the Islamic sciences was vibrant and the souls of the ulamas thriving with Islam. He coached the minds of those searching students with those sources and directed them to them. At the same time he would explain whatever they found obscure and pour out the abundance of his learning and share the fruits of his thought. …
I bear witness that I have heard the praise of eminent personalities and scholars, but I never prided myself with any of it as much as I prided myself with the praise of this magnificent shaykh – for such is a scholarly badge from someone who is truly able to give it. …
That noble man who suffered many trials and overcame them, was also afflicted with the loss of loved ones, for he lost his children during his own lifetime, death taking them one after the other. By virtue of his knowledge, he was able to be patient, uttering the statement of the Prophet Ya‘qub, Patience is beautiful, and the help of Allah must be entreated (12:18). … He passed on to his Lord, patient, thankful and praiseful, as the sincere and righteous pass on. May Allah be pleased with him and make him pleased!
His conversion (tawbat) was begun by Hasan of Basra. At first he was a usurer and committed all sorts of wickedness, but God gave him a sincere repentance, and he learned from Hasan something of the theory and practice of religion. His native tongue was Persian (`ajami) and he could not speak Arabic correctly. One evening Hasan of Basra passed by the door of his cell. Habib had uttered the call to prayer and was standing, engaged in devotion. Hasan came in, but would not pray under his leadership, because Habib was unable to speak Arabic fluently or recite the Koran correctly. The same night, Hasan dreamed that he saw God and said to Him: “O Lord, wherein does Thy good pleasure consist?” and that God answered: “O Hasan, you found My good pleasure, but did not know its value: if yester-night you had said your prayers after Habib, and if the rightness of his intention had restrained you from taking offence at his pro nunciation, I should have been well pleased with you.” It is common knowledge among Sufis that when Hasan of Basra fled from Hajjaj he entered the cell of Habib. The soldiers came and said to Habib: “Have you seen Hasan anywhere?” Habib said: “Yes.” “Where is he?” “He is in my cell.” They went into the cell, but saw no one there. Thinking that Habib was making fun of them, they abused him and called him a liar. He swore that he had spoken the truth. They returned twice and thrice, but found no one, and at last departed. Hasan immediately came out and said to Habib: “I know it was owing to thy benedictions that God did not discover me to these wicked men, but why didst thou tell them I was here?” Habib replied: “O Master, it was not on account of my benedictions that they failed to see thee, but through the blessedness of my speaking the truth. Had I told a lie, we both should have been shamed.” Habib was asked: “With what thing is God pleased?” He answered: “With a heart which is not sullied by hypocrisy,” because hypocrisy (nifaq) is the opposite of concord (wifaq), and the state of being well pleased (rida) is the essence of concord. There is no connexion between hypocrisy and love, and love subsists in the state of being well pleased (with whatever is decreed by God). Therefore acquiescence (rida) is a characteristic of God’s friends, while hypocrisy is a characteristic of His enemies. This is a very important matter. I will explain it in another place.
He was a companion of Hasan of Basra. Dinar was a slave, and Malik was born before his father’s emancipation. His conversion began as follows. One evening he had been enjoying himself with a party of friends. When they were all asleep a voice came from a lute which they had been playing: “O Malik! why dost thou not repent?” Malik abandoned his evil ways and went to Hasan of Basra, and showed himself steadfast in repentance. He attained to such a high degree that once when he was in a ship, and was suspected of stealing a jewel, he no sooner lifted his eyes to heaven than all the fishes in the sea came to the surface, every one carrying a jewel in its mouth. Malik took one of the jewels, and gave it to the man whose jewel was missing; then he set foot on the sea and walked until he reached the shore. It is related that he said: “The deed that I love best is sincerity in doing,” because an action only becomes an action in virtue of its sincerity. Sincerity bears the same relation to an action as the spirit to the body: as the body without the spirit is a lifeless thing, so an action without sincerity is utterly unsubstantial. Sincerity belongs to the class of internal actions, whereas acts of devotion belong to the class of external actions: the latter are completed by the former, while the former derive their value from the latter. Although a man should keep his heart sincere for a thousand years, it is not sincerity until his sincerity is combined with action; and although he should perform external actions for a thousand years, his actions do not become acts of devotion until they are combined with sincerity.
He was a companion of Salman Farisi. He related that the Apostle said: “The believer’s intentions are better than his acts.” He had flocks of sheep, and his home was on the bank of the Euphrates. His religious Path (tariq) was retire ment from the world. A certain Shaykh relates as follows: “Once I passed by him and found him praying, while a wolf looked after his sheep. I resolved to pay him a visit, since he appeared to me to have the marks of greatness. When we had exchanged greetings, I said: ‘O Shaykh! I see the wolf in accord with the sheep.’ He replied: ‘That is because the shepherd is in accord with God.’ With those words he held a wooden bowl under a rock, and two fountains gushed from the rock, one of milk and one of honey. ‘O Shaykh!’ I cried, as he bade me drink, ‘how hast thou attained to this degree?’ He answered: ‘By obedience to Muhammad, the Apostle of God. O my son! the rock gave water to the people of Moses [Koran vii: 160], although they disobeyed him, and although Moses is not equal in rank to Muhammad: why should not the rock give milk and honey to me, inasmuch as I am obedient to Muhammad, who is superior to Moses?’ I said: ‘Give me a word of counsel.’ He said: ‘Do not make your heart a coffer of covetousness and your belly a vessel of unlawful things.”
My Shaykh had further traditions concerning him, but I could not possibly set down more than this (andar waqt-i man diqi bud u bish az in mumkin na-shud), my books having been left at Ghazna – may God guard it! – while I myself had become a captive among uncongenial folk (dar miyan-i najinsan) in the district of Lahawur, which is a dependency of Multan. God be praised both in joy and sorrow!
[1] MS. L has “Aslam.”
He was steadfast in poverty, and thoroughly versed in different kinds of self-mortification. `Amr ibn `Uthman al- Makki, who shows great zeal on his behalf (andar amr-i way ba-jidd bashad), relates that on being asked what he possessed he answered: “Satisfaction (rida) with God and independence of mankind.” A certain Shaykh went to see him and found him asleep. When he awoke he said: “I dreamed just now that the Apostle gave me a message to thee, and bade me inform thee that it is better to fulfil the duty which is owed to one’s mother than to make the pilgrimage. Return, there fore, and try to please her.” The person who tells the story turned back and did not go to Mecca. This is all that I have heard about Abu Hazim.
He associated with many of the Followers and with some of the ancient Shaykhs, and had a perfect knowledge of Sufism. It is related that he said: “I never saw anything without seeing God therein.” This is an advanced stage (maqABU of Contemplation. When a man is overcome with love for the Agent, he attains to such a degree that in looking at His act he does not see the act but the Agent only and entirely, just as when one looks at a picture and sees only the painter. The true meaning of these words is the same as in the saying of Abraham, the Friend of God (Khalil) and the Apostle, who said to the sun and moon and stars: “This is my Lord” (Koran vi: 76-8), for he was then overcome with longing (shawq), so that the qualities of his beloved appeared to him in everything that he saw. The friends of God perceive that the universe is subject to His might and captive to His dominion, and that the existence of all created things is as nothing in comparison with the power of the Agent thereof. When they look thereon with longing, they do not see what is subject and passive and created, but only the Omnipotent, the Agent, the Creator. I shall treat of this in the chapter on Contemplation. Some persons have fallen into error, and have alleged that the words of Muhammad ibn Wasi`, “I saw God therein,” involve a place of division and descent (makan-i tajziya u hulul), which is sheer infidelity, because place is homogeneous with that, which is contained in it, and if anyone supposes that place is created the contained object must also be created; or if the latter be eternal the former also must be eternal: hence this assertion entails two evil consequences, both of which are infidelity, viz., either that created things are eternal (qadim) or that the Creator is non-eternal (muhdath). Accordingly, when Muhammad ibn Wasi` said that he saw God in things, he meant, as I have explained above, that he saw in those things the signs and evidences and proofs of God.
I shall discuss in the proper place some subtle points con nected with this question.
He is the Imam of Imams and the exemplar of the Sunnites. He was firmly grounded in works of mortification and devotion, and was a great authority on the principles of Sufism. At first he wished to go into seclusion and abandon the society of mankind, for he had made his heart free from every thought of human power and pomp. One night, however, he dreamed that he was collecting the bones of the Apostle from the tomb, and choosing some and discarding others. He awoke in terror and asked one of the pupils of Muhammad ibn Sirin [1] (to interpret the dream). This man said to him: “You will attain a high rank in knowledge of the Apostle and in preserving his ordinances (sunnat), so that you will sift what is genuine from what is spurious.” Another time Abu Hanifa dreamed that the Apostle said to him: “You have been created for the purpose of reviving my ordinances.” He was the master of many Shaykhs, e.g. Ibrahim ibn Adham and Fudayl ibn `Iyad and Dawud Ta’i and Bishr Hafi.
In the reign of the Caliph Mansur a plan was formed to appoint to the office of Qadi one of the following persons:
Abu Hanifa, Sufyan Thawri, Mis`ar ibn Kidam, and Shurayh. While they were journeying together to visit Mansur, who had summoned them to his presence, Abu Hanifa said to his companions: “I will reject this office by means of a certain trick, Mis`ar will feign to be mad, Sufyan will run away, and Shurayh will be made Qadi.” Sufyan fled and embarked in a ship, imploring the captain to conceal him and save him from execution. The others were ushered into the presence of the Caliph. Mansur said to Abu Hanifa: “You must act as Qadi.” Abu Hanifa replied: “O Commander of the Faithful, I am not an Arab, but one of their clients; and the chiefs of the Arabs will not accept my decisions.” Mansur said: “This matter has nothing to do with lineage: it demands learning, and you are the most eminent doctor of the day.” Abu Hanifa persisted that he was unfit to hold the office. “What I have just said shows it,” he exclaimed; “for if I have spoken the truth I am disqualified, and if I have told a falsehood it is not right that a liar should be judge over Muslims, and that you should entrust him with the lives, property, and honour of your subjects.” He escaped in this way. Then Mis`ar came forward and seized the Caliph’s hand and said: “How are you, and your children, and your beasts of burden?” “Away with him,” cried Mansur, “he is mad!” Finally, Shurayh was told that he must fill the vacant office. “I am melancholic,” said he, “and light-witted,” whereupon Mansur advised him to drink ptisanes and potions (‘asidaha-yi muwafiq u nabidhha-yi mathallath) until his intellect was fully restored. So Shurayh was made Qadi, and Abu Hanifa never spoke a word to him again. This story illustrates not only the sagacity of Abu Hanifa, but also his adherence to the path of righteousness and salvation, and his determination not to let himself be deluded by seeking popularity and worldly renown. It shows, moreover, the soundness of blame (malamat), since all these three venerable men resorted to some trick in order to avoid popularity. Very different are the doctors of the present age, who make the palaces of princes their qibla and the houses of evildoers their temple.
Once a doctor of Ghazna, who claimed to be a learned divine and a religious leader, declared it heresy to wear a patched frock (muraqqa`a). I said to him: “You do not call it heretical to wear robes of brocade [2], which are made entirely of silk and, besides being in themselves unlawful for men to wear, have been begged with importunity, which is unlawful, from evildoers whose property is absolutely unlawful. Why, then, is it heretical to wear a lawful garment, procured from a lawful place, and purchased with lawful money? If you were not ruled by inborn conceit and by the error of your soul, you would express a more judicious opinion. Women may wear a dress of silk lawfully, but it is unlawful for men, and only permissible (mubah) for lunatics. If you acknowledge the truth of both these state ments you are excused (for condemning the patched frock). God save us from lack of fairness!”
Yahya ibn Mu`adh al-Razi relates as follows: “I dreamed that I said to the Apostle, ‘O Apostle of God, where shall I seek thee?’ He answered: ‘In the science of Abu Hanifa.’”
Once, when I was in Syria, I fell asleep at the tomb of Bilal the Muezzin [3], and dreamed that I was at Mecca, and that the Apostle came in through the gate of the Banu Shayba, tenderly clasping an old man to his bosom in the same fashion as people are wont to carry children; and that I ran to him and kissed the back of his foot, and stood marvelling who the old man might be; and that the Apostle was miraculously aware of my secret thought and said to me, “This is thy Imam and the Imam of thy countryman,” meaning Abu Hanifa. In consequence of this dream I have great hopes for myself and also for the people of my country. It has convinced me, moreover, that Abu Hanifa was one of those who, having annihilated their natural qualities, continue to perform the ordinances of the sacred law, as appears from the fact that he was carried by the Apostle. If he had walked by himself, his attributes must have been subsistent, and such a one may either miss or hit the mark; but inasmuch as he was carried by the Apostle, his attributes must have been non-existent while he was sustained by the living attributes of the Apostle. The Apostle cannot err, and it is equally impossible that one who is sustained by the Apostle should fall into error.
When Dawud Ta’i had acquired learning and become a famous authority, he went to Abu Hanifa and said to him: “What shall I do now?” Abu Hanifa replied: “Practise what you have learned, for theory without practice is like a body without a spirit.” He who is content with learning alone is not learned, and the truly learned man is not content with learning alone.
Similarly, Divine guidance (hidayat) involves self-mortification (mujahadat), without which contemplation (mushahadat) is un attainable. There is no knowledge without action, since knowledge is the product of action, and is brought forth and developed and made profitable by the blessings of action. The two things cannot be divorced in any way, just as the light of the sun cannot be separated from the sun itself.
[1] A well-known divine, who died in 10 A.H. See Ibn Khallikan, No. 576. An extant work of the interpretation of dreams is attributed to him (Brockelmann, I, 66).
[2] The text has jama-i hashishi u dibaqi. Apparently the former word should be written “khashishi”. It is described in Vullers’s Persian Dictionary as “a kind of garment.”
[3] Bilal ibn Rabah, the Prophet’s Muezzin, was buried at Damascus.
He was the Imam of his time and consorted with many eminent Shaykhs. He is the author of celebrated works and famous miracles. The occasion of his conversion is related as follows: He was in love with a girl, and one night in winter he stationed himself at the foot of the wall of her house, while she came on to the roof, and they both stayed gazing at each other until day break. When `Abd Allah heard the call to morning prayers he thought it was time for evening prayers; and only when the sun began to shine did he discover that he had spent the whole night in rapturous contemplation of his beloved. He took warning by this, and said to himself: “Shame on thee, O son of Mubarak! Dost thou stand on foot all night for thine own pleasure, and yet become furious when the Imam reads a long chapter of the Koran?” He repented and devoted himself to study, and entered upon a life of asceticism, in which he attained such a high degree that once his mother found him asleep in the garden, while a great snake was driving the gnats away from him with a spray of basil which it held in its mouth. Then he left Merv and lived, for some time in Baghdad, associating with the Sufi Shaykhs, and also resided for some time at Mecca. When he returned to Merv, the people of the town received him with friendship and founded for him a professorial chair and a lecture hall (dars u majlis nihadand). At that epoch half the popu lation of Merv were followers of Tradition and the other half adherents of Opinion, just as at the present day. They called him Radi al-fariqayn because of his agreement with both sides, and each party claimed him as one of themselves. He built two convents (ribat) at Merv – one for the followers of Tradition and one for the followers of Opinion—which have retained their original constitution down to the presenb day. Afterwards he went back to the Hijaz and settled at Mecca. On being asked what wonders he had seen, he replied: “I saw a Christian monk (rahib), who was emaciated by self-mortification and bent double by fear of God. I asked him to tell me the way to God. He answered, ‘If you knew God, you would know the way to Him.’ Then he said, ‘I worship Him although I do not know him, whereas you disobey Him although you know Him,’ i.e. ‘know ledge entails fear, yet I see that you are confident; and infidelity entails ignorance, yet I feel fear within myself’. I laid this to heart, and it restrained me from many ill deeds.” It is related that `Abd Allah ibn al-Mubarak said: “Tranquillity is unlawful to the hearts of the Saints of God,” for they are agitated in this world by seeking God (talab) and in the next world by rapture (tarab); they are not permitted to rest here, while they are absent from God, nor there, while they enjoy the presence, manifestation, and vision of God. Hence this world is even as the next world in their eyes, and the next world even as this world, because tranquillity of heart demands two things, either attainment of one’s aim or indifference to the object of one’s desire. Since He is not to be attained in this world or the next, the heart can never have rest from the palpitation of love; and since indifference is unlawful to those who love Him, the heart can never have rest from the agitations of seeking Him. This is a firm principle in the path of spiritual adepts.
He is one of the paupers (sa`alik) of the Sufis, and one of their most eminent and celebrated men. At first he used to practise brigandage between Merv and Baward, but he was always inclined to piety, and invariably showed a generous and magnanimous disposition, so that he would not attack a caravan in which there was any woman, or take the property of anyone whose stock was small; and he let the travellers keep a portion of their property, according to the means of each. One day a merchant set out from Merv. His friends advised him to take an escort, but he said to them: “I have heard that Fudayl is a God-fearing man;” and instead of doing as they wished he hired a Koran-reader and mounted him on a camel in order that be might read the Koran aloud day and night during the journey. When they reached the place where Fudayl was lying in ambush, the reader happened to be reciting: “Is not the time yet come unto those who believe, that their hearts should humbly submit to the admonition of God?”(Koran lvii: 15). Fudayl’s heart was softened. He repented of the business in which he was engaged, and having a written list of those whom he had robbed he satisfied all their claims upon him. Then he went to Mecca and resided there for some, time and became acquainted with certain saints of God. Afterwards he returned to Kufa, where he associated with Abu Hanifa. He has handed down relations which are held in high esteem by Traditionists, and he is the author of lofty sayings concerning the verities of Sufism and Divine Knowledge. It is recorded that he said:
“Whoever knows God as He ought to be known worships Him with all his might,” because everyone who knows God acknow ledges His bounty and beneficence and mercy, and therefore loves Him; and since he loves Him he obeys Him so far as he has the power, for it is not difficult to obey those whom one loves. Accordingly, the more one loves, the more one is obedient, and love is increased by true knowledge. It is related that he said: “The world is a madhouse, and the people therein are madmen, wearing shackles and chains.” Lust is our shackle and sin is our chain.
Fadl ibn Rabi` relates as follows: “I accompanied Harun al-Rashid to Mecca. When we had performed the pilgrimage, he said to me, ‘Is there any man of God here that I may visit him?’ I replied, ‘Yes, there is `Abd al-Razzaq San`ani [1].’ We went to his house and talked with him for a while. When we were about to leave, Harun bade me ask him whether he had any debts. He said, ‘Yes,’ and Harun gave orders that they should be paid. On coming out, Harun said to me, ‘O Fadl, my heart still desires to see a man greater than this one.’ I conducted him to Sufyan ibn `Uyayna [2]. Our visit ended in the same way. Harun gave orders to pay his debts and departed. Then he said to me, ‘I recollect that Fudayl ibn `Iyad is here; let us go and see him.’ We found him in an upper chamber, reciting a verse of the Koran. When we knocked at the door, he cried, ‘Who is there?’ I replied, ‘The Commander of the Faithful.’ ‘What have I to do with the Commander of the Faithful?’ said he. I said, ‘Is there not an Apostolic Tradition to the effect that no one shall seek to abase himself in devotion to God?’ He answered, ‘Yes, but acquiescence in God’s will (rida) is everlasting glory in the opinion of quietists: you see my abasement, but I see my exaltation.’ Then he came down and opened the door, and extinguished the lamp and stood in a corner. Harun went in and tried to find him. Their hands met. Fudayl exclaimed, ‘Alas! never have I felt a softer hand: ‘it will be very wonderful if it escape from the Divine torment.’ Harun began to weep, and wept so violently that he swooned. When he came to himself, he said, ‘O Fudayl, give me a word of counsel.’ Fudayl said: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, thy ancestor (`Abbas) was the uncle of Mustafa. He asked the Prophet to give him dominion over men. The Prophet answered, “O my uncle, I will give thee dominion for one moment over thyself,” i.e. one moment of thy obedience to God is better than a thousand years of men’s obedience to thee, since dominion brings repentance on the Day of Resurrection’ (al-imdrat yawm al-qiamat nadamat). Harun said, ‘Counsel me further.’ Fudayl continued: ‘When `Umar ibn `Abd al-`Aziz was appointed Caliph, he summoned Salim ibn `Abd Allah and Raja ibn Hayat, and Muhammad ibn Ka`b al-Qurazi, and said to them, “What am I to do in this affliction? for I count it an affliction, although people in general consider it to be a blessing.” One of them replied: “If thou wouldst be saved tomorrow from the Divine punishment, regard the elders of the Muslims as thy fathers, and their young men as thy brothers, and their children as thy children. The whole territory of Islam is thy house, and its people are thy family. Visit thy father, and honour thy brother, and deal kindly with thy children.” Then Fudayl said: ‘O Commander of the Faithful, I fear lest that handsome face of thine fall into Hell-fire. Fear God and perform thy obligations to Him better than this.’ Harun asked Fudayl whether he had any debts. He answered, ‘Yes, the debt which I owe to God, namely, obedience to Him; woe is me, if He call me to account for it!’ Harun said, ‘O Fudayl, I am speaking of debts to men.’ He replied, ‘God be praised! His bounty towards me is great; and I have no reason to complain of Him to His servants.’ Harun offered him a purse of a thousand dinars, saying, ‘Use the money for some purpose of thine own.’ Fuclayl said, ‘O Com mander of the Faithful, my counsels have done thee no good. Here again thou art behaving wrongly and unjustly.’ Harun exclaimed, ‘How is that?’ Fudayl said, ‘I wish thee to be saved, but thou wouldst cast me into perdition: is not this unjust?’ We took leave of him with tears in our eyes, and Harun said to me, ‘O Fadl, Fudayl is a king indeed.’”
All this shows his hatred of the world and its people, and his contempt for its gauds, and his refusal to abase himself before worldlings for the sake of worldly gain.
[1] He died in 211A.H. See Ibn Khallikan, No. 409.
[2] Died in 168 A.H. See Ibn Khallikan, No. 266.
He was the son of a Nubian, and his name was Thawban. He is one of the best of this sect, and one of the most eminent of their hidden spiritualists (`ayyaran), for he trod the path of affliction and travelled on the road of blame (malamat). All the people of Egypt were lost in doubt as to his true state, and did not believe in him until he was dead. On the night of his decease seventy persons dreamed that they saw the Apostle, who said: “I have come to meet Dhu ‘l-Nun, the friend of God.” And after his death the following words were found inscribed on his forehead: This is the beloved of God, who died in love of God, slain by God. At his funeral the birds of the air gathered above his bier, and wove their wings together so as to shadow it. On seeing this, all the Egyptians felt remorse and repented of the injustice which they had done to him. He has many fine and admirable sayings on the verities of mystical knowledge. He says, for example: “The gnostic (`arif) is more lowly every day, because he is approaching nearer to his Lord every moment,” inasmuch as he thereby becomes aware of the awfulness of the Divine Omnipotence, and when the majesty of God has taken possession of his heart, he sees how far he is from God and that there is no way of reaching Him; hence his lowliness is increased. Thus Moses said, when he conversed with God: “O Lord, where shall I seek Thee?” God answered: “Among those whose hearts are broken.” Moses said: “O Lord, no heart is more broken and despairing than mine.” God answered: “Then, I am where thou art.” Accordingly, anyone who pretends to know God without lowliness and fear is an ignorant fool, not a gnostic. The sign of true knowledge is sincerity of will, and a sincere will cuts off all secondary causes and severs all ties of relationship, so that nothing remains except God. Dhu ‘l-Nun says: “Sincerity (sidq) is the sword of God on the earth: it cuts everything that it touches.” Now sincerity regards the Causer, and does not consist in affirmation of secondary causes. To affirm the latter is to destroy the principle of sincerity.
Among the stories told of Dhu ‘l-Nun I have read that one day he was sailing with his disciples in a boat on the River Nile, as is the custom of the people of Egypt when they desire recreation. Another boat was coming up, filled with merry-makers, whose unseemly behaviour so disgusted the disciples that they begged Dhu ‘l-Nun to implore God to sink the boat. Dhu ‘l-Nun raised his hands and cried: “O Lord, as Thou hast given these people a pleasant life in this world, give them a pleasant life in the next world too!” The disciples were astonished by his prayer. When the boat came nearer and those in it saw Dhu ‘l-Nun, they began to weep and ask pardon, and broke their lutes and repented unto God. Dhu ‘l-Nun said to his disciples: “A pleasant life in the next world is repentance in this world. You and they are all satisfied without harm to anyone.” He acted thus from his extreme affection towards the Muslims, following the example of the Apostle, who, notwithstanding the ill-treatment which he received from the infidels, never ceased to say: “O God! direct my people, for they know not.” Dhu ‘l-Nun relates that as he was journeying from Jerusalem to Egypt he saw in the distance some one advancing towards him, and felt impelled to ask a question. When the person came near he perceived that it was an old woman carrying a staff (`ukkaza) [1], and wearing a woollen tunic (jubba). He asked her whence she came. She answered: “From God.” “And whither goest thou?” “To God.” Dhu ‘l-Nun drew forth a piece of gold which he had with him and offered it to her, but she shook her hand in his face and cried: “O Dhu ‘l-Nun, the notion which thou hast formed of me arises from the feebleness of thy intelligence. I work for God’s sake, and accept nothing unless from Him. I worship Him alone and take from Him alone.” With these words she went on her way.
The old woman’s saying that she worked for God’s sake is a proof of her sincerity in love. Men in their dealings with God fall into two classes. Some imagine that they work for God’s sake when they are really working for themselves; and though their work is not done with any worldly motive, they desire a recompense in the next world. Others take no thought of reward or punishment in the next world, any more than of ostentation and reputation in this world, but act solely from reverence for the commandments of God. Their love of God requires them to forget every selfish interest while they do His bidding. The former class fancy that what they do for the sake of the next world they do for God’s sake, and fail to recognize that the devout have a greater self-interest in devotion than the wicked have in sin, because the sinner’s pleasure lasts only for a moment, whereas devotion is a delight for ever. Besides, what gain accrues to God from the religious exercises of man kind, or what loss from their non-performance? If all the world acted with the veracity of Abu Bakr, the gain would be wholly theirs, and if with the falsehood of Pharaoh, the loss would be wholly theirs, as God hath said: “If ye do good, it is to yourselves, and if ye do evil it is to yourselves” (Koran xvii: 7); and also: “Whoever exerts himself [in religion] does so for his own advantage. Verily, God is independent of created beings” (Koran xxix: 5). They seek for themselves an everlasting kingdom and say, “We are working for God’s sake”; but to tread the path of love is a different thing. Lovers, in fulfilling the Divine commandment, regard only the accomplishment of the Beloved’s will, and have no eyes for anything else.
A similar topic will be discussed in the chapter on Sincerity (ikhlas).
[1] According to a marginal gloss in MS. I, `ukkaza is a tripod on which a leathern water-bottle is suspended.
He was unique in his Path, and the chief of his contemporaries. He was a disciple of the Apostle Khidr. He met a large number of the ancient Sufi Shaykhs, and associated with the Imam Abu Hanifa, from whom he learned divinity (`ilm). In the earlier part of his life he was Prince of Balkh. One day he went to the chase, and having become separated from his suite was pursuing an antelope. God caused the antelope to address him in elegant language and say: “Wast thou created for this, orwast thou commanded to do this?” He repented, abandoned everything, and entered on the path of asceticism and abstinence. He made the acquaintance of Fudayl ibn `Iyad and Sufyan Thawri, and consorted with them. After his conversion he never ate any food except what he had earned by his own labour. His sayings on the verities of Sufism are original and exquisite. Junayd said: “Ibrahim is the key of the (mystical) sciences.” It is related that he said: “Take God as thy companion and leave mankind alone” i.e. when anyone is rightly and sincerely turned towards God, the rightness of his turning towards God requires that he should turn his back on mankind, inasmuch as the society of mankind has nothing to dc with thoughts of God. Companionship with God is sincerity in fulfilling His commands, and sincerity in devotion springs from purity of love, and pure love of God proceeds from hatred of passion and lust. Whoever is familiar with sensual affections is separated from God, and whoever is separated from sensual affections is dwelling with God. Therefore thou art all mankind in regard to thyself: turn away from thyself, and thou hast turned away from all mankind. Thou dost wrong to turn away from mankind and towards thyself, and to be concerned with thyself, whereas the actions of all mankind are determined by the providence and predestination of God. The outward and inward rectitude (istiqamat) of the seeker is founded on two things, one of which is theoretical and the other practical. The former consists in regarding all good and evil as predestined by God, so that nothing in the universe passes into a state of rest or motion until God has created rest or motion in that thing; the latter consists in performing the command of God, in rightness of action towards Him, and in keeping the obligations which he Has imposed. Predestination can never become an argument for neglecting His commands. True renunciation of mankind is impossible until thou hast renounced thyself. As soon as thou hast renounced thyself, all mankind are necessary for the fulfilment of the will of God; and as soon as thou hast turned to God, thou art necessary for the accomplishment of the decree of God. Hence it is not permissible to be satisfied with mankind. If thou wilt be satisfied with anything except God, at least be satisfied with another (ghayr), for satisfaction with another is to regard unification (tawhid), whereas satisfaction with thyself is to affirm the nullity of the Creator (ta`fil). For this reason Shaykh Abu ‘l-Hasan Saliba [1] used to say that it is better for novices to be under the authority of a cat than under their own authority, because companionship with another is for God’s sake, while companionship with one’s self is calculated to foster the sensual affections. This topic will be discussed in the proper place. Ibrahim ibn Adham tells the following story:
“When I reached the desert, an old man came up and said to me, ‘O Ibrahim, do you know what place this is, and where you are journeying without provisions and on foot?’ I knew that he was Satan. I produced from the bosom of my shirt four daniqs – the price of a basket which I had sold in Kufa – and cast them away and made a vow that I would perform a prayer of four hundred genuflexions for every mile that I travelled. I remained four years in the desert, and God was giving me my daily bread without any exertion on my part. During that time Khidr consorted with me and taught me the Great Name of God. Then my heart became wholly empty of ‘other’ (ghayr).”
[1] See Nafahat, No. 347, where he is called Abu ‘l-Hlusayn Saliba.
He associated with Fudayl and was the disciple of his own maternal uncle, `Ali ibn Khashram. He was versed in the principal, as well as the derivative, sciences. His conversion began as follows. One day, when he was drunk, he found on the road a piece of paper on which was written: “In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful.” He picked it up with reverence, perfumed it, and laid in a clean place. The same night he dreamed that God said to him: “O Bishr, as thou hast made My name sweet, I swear by My glory that I will make thy name sweet both in this world and the next.” Thereupon he repented and took to asceticism. So intensely was he absorbed in contemplation of God that he never put anything on his feet. When he was asked the reason of this, he said: “The Earth is His carpet, and I deem it wrong to tread on His carpet while there is anything between my foot and His carpet.” This is one of his peculiar practices: in the concentration of his mind on God a shoe seemed to him a veil (between him and God). It is related that he said: “Whoever desires to be honoured in this world and exalted in the next world, let him shun three things: let him not ask a boon of anyone, nor speak ill of anyone, nor accept an invitation to eat with anyone.” No man who knows the way to God will ask a boon of human beings, since to do so is a proof of his ignorance of God: if he knew the Giver of all boons, he would not ask a boon from a fellow-creature. Again, the man who speaks ill of anyone is criticizing the decree of God, inasmuch as both the individual himself and his actions are created by God; and on whom can the blame for an action be thrown except on the agent? This does not apply, however, to the blame which God has com manded us to bestow upon infidels. Thirdly, as to his saying, “Do not eat of men’s food,” the reason is that God is the Provider. If He makes a creature the means of giving you daily bread, do not regard that creature, but consider that the daily bread which God has caused to come to you does not belong to him but to God. If he thinks that it is his, and that he is thereby conferring a favour on you, do not accept it. In the matter of daily bread one person does not confer on another any favour at all, because, according to the opinion of the orthodox, daily bread is food (ghidha), although the Mu`tazilites hold it to be property (milk); and God, not any created being, nourishes mankind with food. This saying may be explained otherwise, if it be taken in a profane sense (majaz).
He is the greatest of the Shaykhs in state and dignity, so that Junayd said: “Abu Yazid holds the same rank among us as Gabriel among the angels.” His grandfather was a Magian, and his father was one of the notables of Bistam. He is the author of many trustworthy relations concerning the Traditions of the Apostle, and he is one of the ten celebrated Imams of Sufism. No one before him penetrated so deeply into the arcana of this science. In all circumstances he was a lover of theology and a venerator of the sacred law, notwithstanding the spurious doctrine which has been foisted on him by some persons with the object of supporting their own heresies. From the first, his life was based on self-mortification and the practice of devotion. It is recorded that he said: “For thirty years I was active in self- mortification, and I found nothing harder than to learn divinity and follow its precepts. But for the disagreement of divines I should have utterly failed in my endeavour. The disagreement of divines is a mercy save on the point of Unification.” This is true indeed, for human nature is more prone to ignorance than to knowledge, and while many things can be done easily with ignorance, not a single step can be made easily with know ledge. The bridge of the sacred law is much narrower and more dangerous than the Bridge (Sirat) in the next world. Therefore it behoves thee so to act in all circumstances that, if thou shouldst not attain a high degree and an eminent station, thou mayst at any rate fall within the pale of the sacred law. Even if thou lose all else, thy practices of devotion will remain with thee. Neglect of those is the worst mischief that can happen to a novice.
It is related that Abu Yazid said: “Paradise hath no value in the eyes of lovers, and lovers are veiled (from God) by their love,” i.e. Paradise is created, whereas love is an uncreated attribute of God. Whoever is detained by a created thing from that which is uncreated, is without worth and value. Created things are worthless in the eyes, of lovers. Lovers are veiled by love, because the existence of love involves duality, which is incompatible with unification (tawhid). The way of lovers is from oneness to oneness, but there is in love this defect, that it needs a desirer (murid) and an object of desire (murad). Either God must be the desirer and Man the desired, or vice versa. In the former case, Man’s being is fixed in God’s desire, but if Man is the desirer and God the object of desire, the creature’s search and desire can find no way unto Him: in either case the canker of being remains in the lover. Accordingly, the annihilation of the lover in the everlastingness of love is more perfect than his subsistence through the everlastingness of love.
It is related that Abu Yazid said: “I went to Mecca and saw a House standing apart. I said, ‘My pilgrimage is not accepted, for I have seen many stones of this sort.’ I went again, and saw the House and also the Lord, of the House. I said, ‘This is not yet real unification.’ I went a third time, and saw only the Lord of the House. A voice in my heart whispered, ‘O Bayazid, if thou didst not see thyself, thou wouldst not be a polytheist (mushrik) though thou sawest the whole universe; and since thou seest thyself, thou art a polytheist though blind to the whole universe.’ Thereupon I repented, and once more I repented of my repentance; and yet once more I repented of seeing my own existence.”
This is a subtle tale concerning the soundness of his state, and gives an excellent indication to spiritualists.
He was learned in the principal and derivative sciences, and his authority was recognized by all the theologians of his day. He wrote a book, entitledRi`ayat [1], on the principles of Sufism, as well as many other works. In every branch of learning he was a man of lofty sentiment and noble mind. He was the chief Shaykh of Baghdad in his time. It is related that he said: Al-`ilm bi-harakat al-qulub fi mutala`at al-ghuyub ashraf min al-`amal bi-harakat al-jawarih, i.e. he who is acquainted with the secret motions of the heart is better than he who acts with the motions of the limbs. The meaning is that knowledge is the place of perfection, whereas ignorance is the place of search, and knowledge at the shrine is better than ignorance at the door: knowledge brings a man to perfection, but ignorance does not even allow him to enter (on the way to perfection). In reality knowledge is greater than action, because it is possible to know God by means of knowledge, but impossible to attain to Him by means of action. If He could be found by action without knowledge, the Christians and the monks in their austerities would behold Him face to face and sinful believers would have no vision of Him. Therefore know ledge is a Divine attribute and action a human attribute. Some relaters of this saying have fallen into error by reading al-`amal bi-harakat al-qulub [2], which is absurd, since human actions have nothing to do with the motions of the heart. If the author uses this expression to denote reflection and contemplation of the inward feelings, it is not strange, for the Apostle said: “A moment’s reflection is better than sixty years of devotion,” and spiritual actions are in truth more excellent than bodily actions, and the effect produced by inward feelings and actions is really more complete than the effect produced by outward actions. Hence it is said: “The sleep of the sage is an act of devotion and the wakefulness of the fool is a sin,” because the sage’s heart is controlled (by God) whether he sleeps or wakes, and when the heart is controlled the body also is controlled. Accordingly, the heart that is controlled by the sway of God is better than the sensual part of Man which controls his outward motions and acts of self-mortification. It is related that Harith said one day to a dervish, Kun lillah wa-illa la takun, “Be God’s or be nothing,” i.e. either be subsistent through God or perish to thine own existence; either be united with Purity (safwat) or separated by Poverty (faqr); either in the state described by the words “ Bow ye down to Adam” (Koran ii: 32) or in the state described by the words “Did there not came aver Man a time when he was not anything worthy of mention?” (Koran lxxvi: 1). If thou wilt give thyself to God of thy own free choice, thy resurrection will be through thyself, but if thou wilt not, then thy resurrection will be through God.
[1] Its full title is Ri`dyat li-Huquq Allah, “the observance of what is due to God.”
[2] This reading is given in the Tabaqat al-Sufiyya of Abu `Abd al-Rahman al-Sulami (British Museum MS., Add. 18, 520, f. 13a).
He was a pupil of Abu Hanifa and a contemporary of Fudayl and Ibrahim ibn Adham. In Sufism he was a disciple of Habib Ra`i. He was deeply versed in all the sciences and unrivalled in jurisprudence (fiqh); but he went into seclusion and turned his back on authority, and took the path of asceticism and piety. It is related that he said to one of his disciples: “If thou desirest welfare, bid farewell to this world, and if thou desirest grace (karamat), pronounce the takbir [for the Janaza Prayer] over the next world,” i.e. both these are places of veiling (places which prevent thee from seeing God). Every kind of tranquillity (faraghat) depends on these two counsels. Whoever would be tranquil in body, let him turn his back on this world; and who ever would be tranquil in heart, let him clear his heart of all desire for the next world. It is a well-known story that Dawud used constantly to associate with Muhammad ibn al-Hasan [1], but would never receive the Qadi Abu Yusuf. On being asked why he honoured one of these eminent divines but refused to admit the other to his presence, he replied that Muhammad ibn al-Hasan had become a theologian after being rich and wealthy, and theology was the cause of his religious advancement and worldly abasement, whereas Abu Yusuf had become a theologian after being poor and despised, and had made theology the means of gaining wealth and power. It is related that Ma`ruf Karkhi said: “I never saw anyone who held worldly goods in less account than Dawud Ta’i; the world and its people had no value whatsoever in his eyes, and he used to regard dervishes (fuqara) as perfect although they were corrupt.”
[1] Muhammad ibn al-Hasan and Abu Yusuf were among the best students of Imam Abu Hanifa.
He was the maternal uncle of Junayd. He was well versed in all the sciences and eminent in Sufism, and he was the first of those who have devoted their attention to the arrangement of “stations” (maqamat) and to the explanation of spiritual “states” (ahwal). Most of the Shaykhs of `Iraq are his pupils. He had seen Habib Ra`i and associated with him. He was a disciple of Ma`ruf Karkhi. He used to carry on the business of a huckster (saqat-firush) in the bazaar at Baghdad. When the bazaar caught fire, he was told that his shop was burnt. He replied: “Then I am freed from the care of it.” Afterwards it was discovered that his shop had not been burnt, although all the shops surrounding it were destroyed. On seeing this, Sari gave all that he possessed to the poor and took the path of Sufism. He was asked how the change in him began. He answered: “One day Habib Ra`i passed, my shop, and I gave him a crust of bread, telling him to give it to the poor. He said to me, ‘May God reward thee!’ From the day when I heard this prayer my worldly affairs never prospered again.” It is related that Sari said: “O God, whatever punishment Thou mayst inflict upon me, do not punish me with the humiliation of being veiled from Thee,” because, if I am not veiled from Thee, my torment and affliction will be lightened by the remembrance and contemplation of Thee; but if I am veiled from Thee, even Thy bounty will be deadly to me. There is no punishment in Hell more painful and hard to bear than that of being veiled. If God were revealed in Hell to the people of Hell, sinful believers would never think of Paradise, since the sight of God would so fill them with joy that they would not feel bodily pain. And in Paradise there is no pleasure more perfect than unveiledness (kashf). If the people there enjoyed all the pleasures of that place and other pleasures a hundredfold, but were veiled from God, their hearts would be utterly broken. Therefore it is the custom, of God to, let the hearts of those who love Him have vision of Him always, in order that the delight thereof may enable them to endure every tribulation; and they say in their orisons: “We deem all torments more desirable than to be veiled from Thee. When Thy beauty is revealed to our hearts, we take no thought of affliction.”
He was versed in all the sciences – legal, practical, and theoretical – and composed many works on various branches of Sufism. He consorted with Ibrahim ibn Adham and many other Shaykhs. It is related that he said: “God hath made the pious living in their death, and hath made the wicked dead during their lives,” i.e., the pious, though they be dead, yet live, since the angels utter blessings on their piety until they are made immortal by the recompense which they receive at the Resurrection. Hence, in the annihilation wrought by death they subsist through the everlastingness of retribution. Once an old man came to Shaqiq and said to him: “O Shaykh, I have sinned much and now wish to repent.” Shaqiq said: “Thou hast come late.” The old man answered: “No, I have come soon. Whoever comes before he is dead comes soon, though he may have been long in coming.” It is said that the occasion of Shaqiq’s conversion was this, that one year there was a famine at Balkh, and the people were eating one another’s flesh. While all the Muslims were bitterly distressed, Shaqiq saw a youth laughing and making merry in the bazaar. The people said: “Why do you laugh? Are not you ashamed to rejoice when everyone else is mourning?” The youth said: “I have no sorrow. I am the servant of a man who owns a village as his private property, and he has relieved me of all care for my livelihood.” Shaqiq exclaimed: “O Lord God, this youth rejoices so much in having a master who owns a single village, but Thou art the King of kings, and Thou hast promised to give us our daily bread; and nevertheless we have filled our hearts with all this sorrow because we are engrossed with worldly things.” He turned to God and began to walk in the way of the Truth, and never troubled himself again about his daily bread. Afterwards he used to say: “I am the pupil of a youth; all that I have learned I learned from him.” His humility led him to say this.
He was held in honour by the Sufis and was (called) the sweet basil of hearts (rayhan-i dilha). He is distinguished by his severe austerities and acts of self-mortification. He was versed in the science of “time” (`ilm-i waqt) [1] and in knowledge of the cankers of the soul, and had a keen eye for its hidden snares. He spoke in subtle terms concerning the practice of devotion, and the watch that should be kept over the heart and the limbs. It is related that he said: “When hope predominates over fear, one’s ‘time’ is spoilt,” because “time” is the preservation of one’s “state” (hal), which is preserved only so long as one is possessed by fear. If, on the other hand, fear predominates over hope, belief in Unity (tawhid) is lost, inasmuch as excessive fear springs from despair, and despair of God is polytheism (shirk). Accordingly, the maintenance of belief in Unity con sists in right hope, and the maintenance of “time” in right fear, and both are maintained when hope and fear are equal. Main tenance of belief in Unity makes one a believer (mu’min), while maintenance of “time” makes one pious (muti`). Hope is connected entirely with contemplation (mushahadat), in which is involved a firm conviction (i`tiqad); and fear is con nected entirely with purgation (mujahadat), in which is involved an anxious uncertainty (idtirab). Contemplation is the fruit of purgation, or, to express the same idea differently, every hope is produced by despair. Whenever a man, on account of his actions, despairs of his future welfare, that despair shows him the way to salvation and welfare and Divine mercy, and opens to him the door of gladness, and clears away sensual corruptions from his heart, and reveals to it the Divine mysteries.
Abmad ibn Abi ‘l-Hawari relates that one night, when he was praying in private, he felt great pleasure. Next day he told Abu Sulayman, who replied: “Thou art a weak man, for thou still hast mankind in view, so that thou art one thing in private and another in public.” There is nothing in the two worlds that is sufficiently important to hold man back from God. When a bride is unveiled to the people, the reason is that everyone may see her and that she may be honoured the more through being seen, but it is not proper that she should see anyone except the bridegroom, since she is disgraced by seeing anyone else. If all mankind should see the glory of a pious man’s piety, he would suffer no harm, but if he sees the excellence of his own piety he is lost.
[1] “Time” (waqt) is used by Muslim mystics to denote the spiritual state in which anyone finds himself, and by which he is dominated at the moment. Here waqt is explained as meaning “the preservation of one’s spiritual state.” According to definition given by Sahl ibn `Abd Allah al-Tustari, waqt is “search for knowledge of the state, i.e. the decision (hukm) of a man’s state, which exists between him and God in this world and hereafter.”
He is one of the ancient and principal Shaykhs, and was famed for his generosity and devoutness. This notice of him should have come earlier in the book, but I have placed it here in accordance with two venerable persons who wrote before me, one of them a relater of traditions and the other an independent authority (sahib tasarruf) – I mean Shaykh Abu `Abd al-Rahman al-Sulami, who in his work adopts the arrangement which I have followed, and the Master and Imam Abu ‘l-Qasim al-Qushayri, who has put the notice of Ma`ruf in the same order in the introductory portion of his book [1]. I have chosen this arrangement because Ma`ruf was the master of Sari Saqati and the disciple of Dawud Ta’i. At first Ma`ruf was a non-Muslim (begana), but he made profession of Islam to `Ali ibn Musa al-Rida, who held him in the highest esteem. It is related that he said: “There are three signs of generosity – to keep faith without resistance, to praise without being incited thereto by liberality, and to give without being asked.” In men all these qualities are merely borrowed, and in reality they belong to God, who acts thus towards His servants. God keeps unresisting faith with those who love Him, and although they show resistance in keeping faith with Him, He only increases His kindness towards them. The sign of God’s keeping faith is this, that in eternity past He called His servant to His presence without any good action on the part of His servant, and that to-day He does not banish His servant on account of an evil action. He alone praises without the incitement of liberality, for He has no need of His servant’s actions, and nevertheless extols him for a little thing that he has done. He alone gives without being asked, for He is generous and knows the state of everyone and fulfils his desire unasked. Accordingly, when God gives a man grace and makes him noble, and distinguishes him by His favour, and acts towards him in the three ways mentioned above, and when that, man, as far as lies in his power, acts in the same way towards his fellow-creatures, then he is called generous and gets a reputation for generosity. Abraham the Apostle possessed these three qualities in very truth, as I shall explain in the proper place.
[1] This statement is not accurate. The notice of Ma`ruf Karkhi is the fourth in Qushayri’s list of biographies at the beginning of his treatise on Sufism, and stands between the notices of Fudayl ibn `Iyad and Sari Saqati. In the Tabaqat al-Sufiyya, by Abu `Abd al-Rahman al.Sulami, the notice of Ma`ruf comes tenth in order, but occupies the same position as it does here in so far as it is preceded by the article on Abu Sulayman Darani and is folIowed by the article on Hatim al-Asamm. It appears from the next sentence that aI-Hujwiri intended to place the life of Ma`ruf between those of Dawud Ta’f and Sari Saqati (Nos. 14 and 15), but neither of the two above-mentioned authorities has adopted this arrangement.
He was one of the great men of Balkh and one of the ancient Shaykhs of Khurasan, a disciple of Shaqiq and the teacher of Ahmad Khadruya. In all his circumstances, from beginning to end, he never once acted untruthfully, so that Junayd said:
“Hatim al-Asamm is the veracious one (siddiq) of our time.” He has lofty sayings on the subtleties of discerning the cankers of the soul and the weaknesses of human nature, and is the author of famous works on ethics (`ilm-i mu`amalat). It is related that he said: “Lust is of three kinds – lust in eating, lust in speaking, and lust in looking. Guard thy food by trust in God, thy tongue by telling the truth, and thine eye by taking example (`ibrat).” Real trust in God proceeds from right knowledge, for those who know Him aright have confidence that He will give them their daily bread, and they speak and look with right knowledge, so that their food and drink is only love, and their speech is only ecstasy, and their looking is only contemplation. Accordingly, when they know aright they eat what is lawful, and when they speak aright they utter praise (of God), and when they look aright they behold Him, because no food is lawful except what He has given and permits to be eaten, and no praise is rightly offered to anyone in the eighteen thousand worlds except to Him, and it is not allowable to look on anything in the universe except His beauty and majesty. It is not lust when thou receivest food from Him and eatest by His leave, or when thou speakest of Him by His leave, or when thou seest His actions by His leave. On the other hand, it is lust when of thy own will thou eatest even lawful food, or of thy own will thou speakest even praise of Him, or of thy own will thou lookest even for the purpose of seeking guidance.
[1] MSS. L, I, and J read “`Unwan”.
While he was at Madina he was a pupil of the Imam Malik, and when he came to `Iraq he associated with Muhammad ibn al-Hasan. He always had a natural desire for seclusion, and used to seek an intimate comprehension of this way of life, until a party gathered round him and followed his authority. One of them was Ahmad ibn Hanbal. Then Shafi`i became occupied with seeking position and exercising his authority as Imam, and was unable to retire from the world. At first he was not favourably disposed towards aspirants to Sufism, but after seeing Sulayman Ra`i and obtaining admission to his society, he continued to seek the truth wherever he went. It is related that he said: “When you see a divine busying himself with indulgences (rukhas), no good thing will come from him,” i.e. divines are the leaders of all classes of men, and no one may take precedence of them in any matter, and the way of God cannot be traversed without precaution and the utmost self-mortification, and to seek indulgences in divinity is the act of one who flees from self-mortification and prefers an alleviation for himself. Ordinary people seek indulgences to keep them selves within the pale of the sacred law, but the elect practise self-mortification to feel the fruit thereof in their hearts. Divines are among the elect, and when one of them is satisfied with behaving like ordinary people, nothing good will come from him. Moreover, to seek indulgences is to think lightly of God’s commandment, and divines love God: a lover does not think lightly of the command of his beloved.
A certain Shaykh relates that one night he dreamed of the Prophet and said to him: “O Apostle of God, a tradition has come down to me from thee that God hath upon the earth saints of diverse rank (awtad u awliya u abrar).” The Apostle said that the relater of the tradition had transmitted it correctly, and in answer to the Shaykh’s request that he might see one of these holy men, he said: “Muhammad ibn Idris is one of them.”
He was distinguished by devoutness and piety, and was the guardian of the Traditions of the Apostle. Sufis of all sects regard him as blessed. He associated with great Shaykhs, such as Dhu ‘l-Nun of Egypt, Bishr al-Hafi, Sari al-Saqati, Ma`ruf al-Karkhi, and others. His miracles were manifest and his intelligence sound. The doctrines attributed to him to-day by certain Anthropomorphists are inventions and forgeries; he is to be acquitted of all notions of that sort. He had a firm belief in the principles of religion, and his creed was approved by all the divines. When the Mu`tazilites came into power at Baghdad, they wished to extort from him a confession that the Koran was created, and though he was a feeble old man they put him to the rack and gave him a thousand lashes. In spite of all this he would not say that the Koran was created. While he was undergoing punishment his izar became untied. His own hands were fettered, but another hand appeared and tied it. Seeing this evidence, they let him go. He died, however, of the wounds inflicted on that occasion. Shortly before his death some persons visited him and asked what he had to say about those who flogged him. He answered: “What should I have to say? They flogged me for God’s sake, thinking that I was wrong and that they were right. I will not claim redress from them at the Resurrection for mere blows.” He is the author of lofty sayings on ethics. When questioned on any point relating to practice he used to answer the question himself, but if it was a point of mystical theory (haqa’iq) he would refer the questioner to Bishr Hafi. One day a man asked him: “What is sincerity (ikhlas)?” He replied: “To escape from the cankers of one’s actions,” i.e. let thy actions be free from ostentation and hypocrisy and self-interest. The questioner then asked: “What is trust (tawakkul)?” Ahmad replied: “Confidence in God, that He will provide thy daily bread.” The man asked: “What is acquiescence (rida)?” He replied: “To commit, thy affairs to God.” “And what is love (mahabbat)?” Ahmad said: “Ask this question of Bishr Hafi for I will not answer it while he is alive.” Ahmad ibn Hanbal was constantly exposed to persecution: during his life by the attacks of the Mu`tazilites, and after his death by the suspicion of sharing the views of the Anthropomorphists. Consequently the orthodox Muslims are ignorant of his true state and hold him suspect. But he is clear of all that is alleged against him.
He was one of the most eminent of the Syrian Shaykhs and is praised by all the leading Sufis. Junayd said: “Ahmad ibn Abi ‘l-Hawari is the sweet basil of Syria (rayhanat al-Sham).” He was the pupil of Abu Sulayman Darani, and associated with Sufyan ibn `Uyayna and Marwan ibn Mu`awiya the Koran-reader (al-Qari) [1]. He had been a wandering devotee (sayyah). It is related that he said: “This world is a dung-hill and a place where dogs gather; and one who lingers there is less than a dog, for a dog takes what he wants from it and goes, but the lover of the world never departs from it or leaves it at any time.” At first he was a student and attained the rank of the Imams, but afterwards he threw all his books into the sea, and said: “Ye were excellent guides, but it is impossible to occupy one’s self with a guide after one has reached the goal,” because a guide is needed only so long as the disciple is on the road: when the shrine comes into sight the road and the gate are worthless. The Shaykhs have said that Ahmad did this in the state of intoxication (sukr). In the mystic Path he who says “I have arrived” has gone astray. Since arriving is non-accomplishment, occupation is (superfluous) trouble, and freedom from occupation is idleness, and in either case the principle of union (wusul) is non-existence, for both occupation and its opposite are human qualities. Union and separation alike depend on the eternal will and providence of God. Hence it is impossible to attain to union with Him. The terms “nearness” and “neighbourhood” are not applicable to God. A man is united to God when God holds him in honour, and separated from God when God holds him in contempt. I, `Ali ibn `Uthman al-Jullabi, say that possibly that eminent Shaykh in using the word “union” (wusul) may have meant “discovery of the way to God”, for the way to God is not found in books; and when the road lies plain before one no explanation is necessary. Those who have attained true knowledge have no use for speech, and even less for books. Other Shaykhs have done the same thing as Ahmad ibn Abi ‘l-Hawari, for example the Grand Shaykh Abu Sa`id Fadl Allah ibn Muhammad al-Mayhani, and they have been imitated by a number of formalists whose only object is to gratify their indolence and ignorance. It would seem that those noble Shaykhs acted as they did from the desire of severing all worldly ties and making their hearts empty of all save God. This, however, is proper only in the intoxication of commencement (ibtida) and in the fervour of youth. Those who have become fixed (mutamakkin) are not veiled (from God) by the whole universe: how, then, by a sheet of paper? It may be said that the destruction of a book signifies the impossibility of expressing the real meaning (of an idea). In that case the same impossibility should be predicated of the tongue, because spoken words are no better than written ones. I imagine that Ahmad ibn Abi ‘l-Hawari, finding no listener in his fit of ecstasy, wrote down an explanation of his feelings on pieces of paper, and having amassed a large quantity, did not regard them as suitable to be divulged and accordingly cast them into the water. It is also possible that he had collected many books, which diverted him from his devotional practices, and that he got rid of them for this reason.
[1] Marwan ibn Mu`awiya al-Fazari of Kufa died in 193 A.H. See Dhahabi’s Tabaqdt al-Huffaz, ed. by Wustenfeld, p. 63, No. 44. Al-Qari is probably a mis-transcription of al-Fazari.
He adopted the path of blame (malamat) and wore a soldier’s dress. His wife, Fatima, daughter of the Amir of Balkh, was renowned as a Sufi. When she desired to repent (of her former life), she sent a message to Ahmad bidding him ask her in marriage of her father. Ahmad refused, whereupon she sent another message in the following terms: “O Ahmad, I thought you would have been too manly to attack those who travel on the way to God. Be a guide (rahbar), not a brigand (rahbur).” Ahmad asked her in marriage of her father, who gave her to him in the hope of receiving his blessing. Fatima renounced all traffic with the world and lived in seclusion with her husband. When Ahmad went to visit Bayazid she accompanied him, and on seeing Bayazid she removed her veil and talked to him without embarrassment. Ahmad became jealous and said to her: “Why dost thou take this freedom with Bayazid?” She replied: “Because you are my natural spouse, but be is my religious consort; through you I come to my desire, but through him to God. The proof is that he has no need of my society, whereas to you it is necessary.” She continued to treat Bayazid with the same boldness, until one day he observed that her hand was stained with henna and asked her why. She answered: “O Bayazid, so long as you did not see my hand and the henna I was at my ease with you, but now that your eye has fallen on me our companionship is unlawful.” Then Ahmad and Fatima came to Nishapur and abode there. The people and Shaykhs of Nishapur were well pleased with Ahmad. When Yahya ibn Mu`adh al-Razi passed through Nishapur on his way from Rayy to Balkh, Ahmad wished to give him a banquet, and consulted with Fatima as to what things were required. She told him to procure so many oxen and sheep, such and such a quantity of sweet herbs, condiments, candles, and perfumes, and added, “We must also kill twenty donkeys.” Ahmad said: “What is the sense of killing donkeys?” “Oh!” said she, “when a noble comes as guest to the house of a noble the dogs of the quarter have something too.” Bayazid said of her: “Whoever wishes to see a man dis guised in women’s clothes, let him look at Fatima!“ And Abu Hafs Haddad says: “But for Ahmad ibn Khadruya generosity would not have been displayed.” He has lofty sayings to his credit, and faultless utterances (anfas-i mu hadhdhab), and is the author of famous works in every branch of ethics and of brilliant discourses on mysticism. It is related that he said: “The way is manifest and the truth is clear, and the shepherd has uttered his call; after this if anyone loses himself, it is through his own blindness,” i.e., it is wrong to seek the way, since the way to God is like the blazing sun; do thou seek thyself, for when thou hast found thyself thou art come to thy journey’s end, inasmuch as God is too manifest to admit of His being sought. He is recorded to have said: “Hide the glory of thy poverty,” i.e., do not say to people, “I am a dervish,” lest thy secret be discovered, for it is a great grace bestowed on thee by God. It is related that he said: “A dervish invited a rich man to a repast in the month of Ramadan, and there was nothing in his house except a loaf of dry bread. On returning home the rich man sent to him a purse of gold. He sent it back, saying, ‘This serves me right for revealing my secret to one like you.’ The genuineness of his poverty led him to act thus.”
He was one of the chief Shaykhs of Khurasan, and was celebrated for his generosity, asceticism, and devoutness. He performed many miracles, and experienced marvellous ad ventures without number in the desert and elsewhere. He was one of the most noted travellers among the Sufis, and used to cross the deserts in complete disengagement from worldly things (ba-tajrid). His death took place in the desert of Basra. After many years had elapsed he was found standing erect with his face towards the Ka`ba, shrivelled up, with a bucket in front of him and a staff in his hand; and the wild beasts had not touched him or come near him. It is related that he said: “The food of the dervish is what he finds, and his clothing is what covers him, and his dwelling-place is wherever he alights,” i.e. he does not choose his own food or his own dress, or make a home for himself. The whole world is afflicted by these three items, and personal initiative therein keeps us in a state of distraction (mashghuli) while we make efforts to procure them. This is the practical aspect of the matter, but in a mystical sense the food of the dervish is ecstasy, and his clothing is piety, and his dwelling-place is the Unseen, for God hath said, “If they stood firm in the right path, We should water them with abundant rain” (Koran lxxii: 16); and again, “and fair apparel; but the garment of piety, that is better” (Koran vii: 25); and the Apostle said, “Poverty is to dwell in the Unseen.”
He was perfectly grounded in the true theory of hope in God, so that Husri says: “God had two Yahyas, one a prophet and the other a saint. Yahya ibn Zakariyya trod the path of fear so that all pretenders were filled with fear and despaired of their salvation, while Yahya ibn Mu`adh trod the path of hope so that he tied the hands of all pretenders to hope.” They said to Husri: “The state of Yahya ibn Zakariyya is well known, but what was the state of Yahya ibn Mu`adh?” He replied: “I have been told that he was never in the state of ignorance (jahiliyyat) and never committed any of the greater sins (kabira).” In the practice of devotion he showed an intense perseverance which was beyond the power of anyone else. One of his disciples said to him: “O Shaykh, thy station is the station of hope, but thy practice is the practice of those who fear.” Yahya answered:
“Know, my son, that to abandon the service of God is to go astray.” Fear and hope are the two pillars of faith. It is impossible that anyone should fall into error through practising either of them. Those who fear engage in devotion through fear of separation (from God), and those who hope engage in it through hope of union (with God). Without devotion neither fear nor hope can be truly felt, but when devotion is there this fear and hope are altogether metaphorical; and metaphors (`ibarat) are useless where devotion (`ibadat) is required. Yahya is the author of many books, fine sayings, and original precepts. He was the first of the Shaykhs of this sect; after the Orthodox Caliphs, to mount the pulpit. I am very fond of his sayings, which are delicately moulded and pleasant to the ear and subtle in substance and profitable in devotion. It is related that he said: “This world is an abode of troubles (ashghal) and the next world is an abode of terrors (ahwal), and Man never ceases to be amidst troubles or terrors until he finds rest either in Paradise or in Hell-fire.” Happy the soul that has escaped from troubles and is secure from terrors, and has detached its thoughts 1mm both worlds, and has attained to God! Yahya held the doctrine that wealth is superior to poverty. Having contracted many debts at Rayy, he set out for Khurasan. When he arrived at Balkh the people of that city detained him for some time in order that he might discourse to them, and they gave him a hundred thousand dirhams. On his way back to Rayy he was attacked by brigands, who seized the whole sum. He came in a destitute condition to Nishapur, where he died. He was always honoured and held in respect by the people.
He was an eminent Sufi, who is praised by all the Shaykhs. He associated with Abu `Abd Allah al-Abiwardi and Ahmad ibn Khadruya. Shah Shuja` came from Kirman to visit him. He did not know Arabic, and when he went to Baghdad to visit the Shaykhs there, his disciples said to one another: “It is a great shame that the Grand Shaykh of Khurasan should need an interpreter to make him understand what they say.” However, when he met the Shaykhs of Baghdad, including Junayd, in the Shuniziyya Mosque, he conversed with them in elegant Arabic, so that they despaired of rivalling his eloquence. They asked him: “What is generosity?” He said: “Let one of you begin and declare what it is.” Junayd said: “In my opinion generosity consists in not regarding your generosity and in not referring it to yourself.” Abu Hafs replied: “How well the Shaykh has spoken! but in my opinion generosity consists in doing justice and in not demanding justice.” Junayd said to his disciple: “Rise! for Abu Hafs has surpassed Adam and all his descendants (in generosity).” His conversion is related as follows. He was enamoured of a girl, and on the advice of his friends sought help from a certain Jew living in the city (sharistan) of Nishapur. The Jew told him that he must perform no prayers for forty days, and not praise God or do any good deed or form any good intention; he would then devise a means whereby Abu Hafs should gain his desire. Abu Hafs complied with these instructions, and after forty days the Jew made a talisman as he had promised, but it proved ineffectual. He said: “You have undoubtedly done some good deed. Think!” Abu Hafs replied that the only good thing of any sort that he had done was to remove a stone which he found on the road lest some one might stumble on it. The Jew said to him: “Do not offend that God who has not let such a small act of yours be wasted though you have neglected His commands for forty days.” Abu Hafs repented, and the Jew became a Muslim.
Abu Hafs continued to ply the trade of a blacksmith until he went to Baward and took the vows of discipleship to Abu `Abd Allah Bawardi. One day, after his return to Nishapur, he was sitting in his shop listening to a blind man who was reciting the Koran in the bazaar. He became so absorbed in listening that he put his hand into the fire and, without using the pincers, drew out a piece of molten iron from the furnace. On seeing this the apprentice fainted. When Abu Hafs came to himself he left his shop and no longer earned his livelihood. It is related that he said: “ I left work and returned to it; then work left me and I never returned to it again,” because when anyone leaves a thing by one’s own act and effort, the leaving of it is no better than the taking of it, inasmuch as all acquired acts (aksab) are contaminated, and derive their value from the spiritual influence which flows from the Unseen without effort on our part; which influence, wherever it descends, is united with the choice of Man and loses its pure spirituality. Therefore Man cannot properly take or leave anything; it is God who in His providence gives and takes away, and Man only takes what God has given or leaves what God has taken away. Though a disciple should strive a thousand years to win the favour of God, it would be worth less than if God received him into favour for a single moment, since everlasting future happiness is involved in the favour of past eternity, and Man has no means of escape except by the unalloyed bounty of God. Honoured, then, is he from whose state the Causer has removed all secondary causes.
[1] Nafahat, No. 44, has “Salama.” Qushayri calls him ‘Umar ibn Maslama.
[2] So MSS. L, I, and J. As for B, it has “al-Haddad “, which is the form generally used by his biographers.
He belonged to the ancient Shaykhs, and was one of those who were scrupulously devout. He attained the highest rank in jurisprudence and divinity, in which sciences he was a follower of Thawri [1]. In Sufism he was a disciple of Abu Turab Nakhshabi and `Ali Nasrabadi. When he became renowned as a theologian, the Imams and notables of Nishapur urged him to mount the pulpit and preach to the people, but he refused, saying: “My heart is still attached to the world, and therefore my words will make no impression on the hearts of others. To speak unprofitable words is to despise theology and deride the sacred law. Speech is permissible to him alone whose silence is injurious to religion, and whose speaking would remove the injury.” On being asked why the sayings of the early Muslims were more beneficial than those of his contemporaries to men’s hearts, he replied: “Because they discoursed for the glory of Islam and the salvation of souls and the satisfaction of the Merciful God, whereas we discourse for the glory of ourselves and the quest of worldly gain and the favour of mankind.” Whoever speaks in accordance with God’s will and by Divine impulsion, his words have a force and vigour that makes an impression on the wicked, but if anyone speaks in accordance with his own will, his words are weak and tame and do not benefit his hearers.
[1] The words madhhabs-i Thawri dasht may refer either to Abu Thawr Ibrahim ibn Khalid, a pupil of al-Shafi`i, who died in 246 A.H., or to Sufyan al-Thawri. See Ibn Khallikan, No. 143.
He belonged to the school of `Iraq, but was approved by the people of Khurasan. His sermons were unequalled for beauty of language and elegance of exposition. He was learned in all the branches of divinity, in traditions, sciences, principles, and practices. Some aspirants to Sufism exaggerate his merits beyond measure. It is related that he said: “Glory be to Him who hath made the hearts of gnostics vessels of praise (dhikr), and the hearts of ascetics vessels of trust (tawakkul), and the hearts of those who trust (mutawakkilin) vessels of acquiescence (rida), and the hearts of dervishes (fuqara) vessels of contentment, and the hearts of worldlings vessels of covetousness!” It is worth while to consider that whereas God has placed in every member of the body and in every sense a homogeneous quality, e.g., in the hands that of seizing, in the feet that of walking, in the eye seeing, in the ear hearing, He has placed in each individual heart a diverse quality and a different desire, so that one is the seat of knowledge, another of error, another of contentment, another of covetousness, and so on: hence the marvels of Divine action are in nothing manifested more clearly than in human hearts. And it is, related that he said: “All mankind may be reduced to two types – the man who knows himself, and whose business is self-mortification and discipline, and the man who knows his Lord, and whose business is to serve and worship and please Him.” Accordingly, the worship of the former is discipline (riyadat), while the worship of the latter is sovereignty (riasat): the former practises devotion in order that he may attain a high degree, but the latter practises devotion having already attained all. What a vast difference between the two! One subsists in self-mortification (muja hadat), the other in contemplation (mushahadat). And it is related that he said: “There are two classes of men: those who have need of God – and they hold the highest rank from the standpoint of the sacred law – and those who pay no regard to their need of God, because they know that God has provided for their creation and livelihood and death and life and happiness and misery: they need God alone, and having him are independent of all else.” The former, through seeing their own need, are veiled from seeing the Divine providence, whereas the latter, through not seeing their own need, are unveiled and independent. The former enjoy felicity, but the latter enjoy the Giver of felicity.
He lived to a great age and associated with the ancient Shaykhs, and was acquainted with those who belonged to the third generation after the Prophet (atba` al-tabi`in). He was a contemporary of Bishr and Sari, and a pupil of Harith Muhasibi. He had seen Fudayl and consorted with him. It is related that he said: “The most beneficial poverty is that which you regard as honourable, and with which you are well pleased,” i.e., the honour of the vulgar consists in affirmation of secondary causes, but the honour of the dervish consists in denying secondary causes and in affirming the Causer, and in referring everything to Him, and in being well pleased with His decrees. Poverty is the non-existence of secondary causes, whereas wealth is the existence of secondary causes. Poverty detached from a secondary cause is with God, and wealth attached to a secondary cause is with itself. Therefore secondary causes involve the state of being veiled (from God), while their absence involves the state of unveiledness. This is a clear explanation of the superiority of poverty to wealth.
He was an ascetic and scrupulously devout. He has related trustworthy traditions, and in jurisprudence, as well as in the practice and theory of divinity, he followed the doctrine of Thawri, with whose pupils he had associated. It is recorded that he said: “Whoever desires to be living in his life, let him not admit covetousness to dwell in his heart,” because the covetous man is dead in the toils of his covetousness, which is like a seal on his heart; and the sealed heart is dead. Blessed is the heart that dies to all save God and, lives through God, inasmuch as God has made His praise (dhikr) the glory of men’s hearts, and covetousness their disgrace; and to this effect is the saying of `Abd Allah ibn Khubayq: “God created men’s hearts to be the homes of His praise, but they have become the homes of lust; and nothing can clear them of lust except an agitating fear or a restless desire.” Fear and desire (shawq) are the two pillars of faith. When faith is settled in the heart, praise and contentment accompany it, not covetousness and heedlessness. Lust and covetousness are the result of shunning the society of God. The heart that shuns the society of God knows nothing of faith, since faith is intimate with God and averse to associate with aught else.
He was approved by externalists and spiritualists alike. He was perfect in every branch of science, and spoke with authority on theology, jurisprudence, and ethics. He was a follower of Thawri. His sayings are lofty and his inward state perfect, so that all Sufis unanimously acknowledge his leadership. His mother was the sister of Sari Saqati, and Junayd was the disciple of Sari. One day Sari was asked whether the rank of a disciple is ever higher than that of his spiritual director. He replied: “Yes; there is manifest proof of this: the rank of Junayd is above mine.” It was the humility and insight of Sari that caused him to say this. As is well known, Junayd refused to discourse to his disciples so long as Sari was alive, until one night he dreamed that the Apostle said to him: “O Junayd, speak to the people, for God hath made thy words the means of saving a multitude of mankind.” When he awoke the thought occurred to him that his rank was superior to that of Sari, since the Apostle had commanded him to preach. At daybreak Sari sent a disciple to Junayd with the following message: “You would not discourse to your disciples when they urged you to do so, and you rejected the intercession of the Shaykhs of Baghdad and my personal entreaty. Now that the Apostle has commanded you, obey his orders.” Junayd said: “That fancy went out of my head. I perceived that Sari was acquainted with my outward and inward thoughts in all circumstances, and that his rank was higher than mine, since he was acquainted with my secret thoughts, whereas I was ignorant of his state. I went to him and begged his pardon, and asked him how he knew that I had dreamed of the Apostle. He answered: ‘I dreamed of God, who told me that He had sent the Apostle to bid you preach.’” This anecdote contains a clear indication that spiritual directors are in every case acquainted with the inward experiences of their disciples.
It is related that he said: “The speech of the prophets gives information concerning presence (hudur), while the speech of the saints (siddiqin) alludes to contemplation (mushahadat).” True information is derived from sight, and it is impossible to give true information of anything that one has not actually witnessed, whereas allusion (isharat) involves reference to another thing. Hence the perfection and ultimate goal of the saints is the beginning of the state of the prophets. The distinction between prophet (nabi) and saint (wali), and the superiority of the former to the latter, is plain, notwithstanding that two heretical sects declare the saints to surpass the prophets in excellence. It is related that he said: “I was eagerly desirous of seeing Iblis. One day, when I was standing in the mosque, an old man came through the door and turned his face towards me. Horror seized my heart. When he came near I said to him, ‘Who art thou? for I cannot bear to look on thee, or think of thee.’ He answered, ‘I am he whom you desired to see.’ I exclaimed, ‘O accursed one! what hindered thee from bowing down to Adam?’ He answered, ‘O Junayd, how can you imagine that I should bow down to anyone except God?’ I was amazed at his saying this, but a secret voice whispered: ‘Say to him, Thou liest. Hadst thou been an obedient servant thou wouldst not have transgressed His command.’ Iblis heard the voice in my heart. He cried out and said, ‘By God, you have burnt me!’ and vanished.” This story shows that God preserves His saints in all circumstances from the guile of Satan. One of Junayd’s disciples bore him a grudge, and after leaving him returned one day with the intention of testing him. Junayd was aware of this and said, replying to his question: “Do you want a formal or a spiritual answer?” The disciple said: “Both.” Junayd said: “The formal answer is that if you had tested yourself you would not have needed to test me. The spiritual answer is that I depose you from your saintship.” The disciple’s face im mediately turned black. He cried, “The delight of certainty (yaqin) is gone from my heart,” and earnestly begged to be forgiven, and abandoned his foolish self-conceit. Junayd said to him: “Did not you know that God’s saints possess mysterious powers? You cannot endure their blows.” He cast a breath at the disciple, who forthwith resumed his former purpose and repented of criticizing the Shaykhs.
He has a peculiar doctrine in Sufism and is the model of a number of aspirants to Sufism, who follow him and are called Nuris. The whole body of aspirants to Sufism is composed of twelve sects, two of which are condemned (mardud), while the remaining ten are approved (maqbul). The latter are the Muhasibis, the Qassaris, the Tayfuris, the Junaydis, the Nuris, the Sahlis, the Hakimis, the Kharrazis, the Khafifis, and the Sayyaris. All these assert the truth and belong to the mass of orthodox Muslims. The two condemned sects are, firstly, the Hululis [1], who derive their name from the doctrine of incarnation (hulul) and incorporation (imtizaj), and with whom are connected the Salimi sect of anthropomorphists [2] and secondly, the Hallajis, who have abandoned the sacred law and have adopted heresy, and with whom are connected the Ibahatis [3] and the Farisis [4]. I shall include in this book a chapter on the twelve sects and shall explain their different doctrines.
Nuri took a praiseworthy course in rejecting flattery and indulgence and in being assiduous in self-mortification. It is related that he said: “I came to Junayd and found him seated in the professorial chair (musaddar). I said to him: ‘O Abu ‘l-Qasim, thou hast concealed the truth from them and they have put thee in the place of honour; but I have told them the troth and they have pelted me with stones,’” because flattery is compliance with one’s desire and sincerity is opposition to it, and men hate anyone who opposes their desires and love anyone who, complies with their desires. Nuri was the companion of Junayd and the disciple of Sari. He had associated with many Shaykhs, and had met Ahmad ibn Abi ‘1-Hawari. He is the author of subtle precepts and fine sayings on various branches of the mystical science. It is related that he said: “Union with God is separation from all else, and separation from all else is union with Him,” i.e., anyone whose mind is united with God is separated from all besides, and vice versa: therefore union of the mind with God is separation from the thought of created things, and to be rightly turned away from phenomena is to be rightly turned towards God. I have read in the Anecdotes that once Nuri stood in his chamber for three days and nights, never moving from his place or ceasing to wail. Junayd went to see him and said: “O Abu ‘l-Hasan, if thou knowest that crying aloud to God is of any use, tell me, in order that I too may cry aloud; but if thou knowest that it avails naught, surrender thyself to acquiescence in God’s will, in order that thy heart may rejoice.” Nuri stopped wailing and said: “Thou teachest me well, O Abu ‘l-Qasim!” It is related that he said: “The two rarest things in our time are a learned man who practises what he knows and a gnostic who speaks from the reality of his state,” i.e., both learning and gnosis are rare, since learning is not learning unless it is practised, and gnosis is not gnosis unless it has reality. Nuri referred to his own age, but these things are rare at all times, and they are rare to-day. Anyone who should occupy himself in seeking for learned men and gnostics would waste his time and would not find them. Let him be occupied with himself in order that he may see learning everywhere, and let him turn from himself to God in order that he may see gnosis everywhere. Let him seek learning and gnosis in himself, and let him demand practice and reality from himself. It is related that Nuri said: “Those who regard things as determined by God turn to God in everything,” because they find rest in regarding the Creator, not created objects, whereas they would always be in tribulation if they considered things to be the causes of actions. To do so is polytheism, for a cause is not self-subsistent, but depends on the Causer. When they turn to Him they escape from trouble.
[1]. MS. B has “the Hulmanis”, i.e. the followers of Abu Hu1man of Damascus. See Shahristani, Haarbrucker’s translation, ii, 417.
[2] The Salimis are described (ibid.) as “a number of scholastic theologians (mutakallimun) belonging to Basra.”
[3] “Ibahati” or “Ibahi” signifies “one who regards everything as permissible “.
[4] See the eleventh section of the fourteenth chapter.
He is one of the eminent Sufis of past times. At first he associated with Yahya ibn Mu`adh; then he consorted for a while with Shah Shuja` of Kirman, and accompanied him to Nishapur on a visit to Abu Hafs, with whom he remained to the end of his life. It is related on trustworthy authority that he said: “In my childhood I was continually seeking the Truth, and the externalists inspired me with a feeling of abhorrence. I perceived that the sacred law concealed a mystery under the superficial forms which are followed by the vulgar. When I grew up I happened to hear a discourse by Yahya ibn Mu`adh of Rayy, and I found there the mystery that was the object of my search. I continued to associate with Yahya until, on hearing reports of Shah Shuja` Kirmani from a number of persons who had been in his company, I felt a longing to visit him. Accordingly I quitted Rayy and set out for Kirman. Shah Shuja`, however, would not admit me to his society. ‘You have been nursed,’ said he, ‘in the doctrine of hope (raja), on which Yahya takes his stand. No one who has imbibed this doctrine can tread the path of purgation, because a mechanical belief in hope produces indolence.’ I besought him earnestly, and lamented and stayed at his door for twenty days. At length he admitted me, and I remained in his society until he took me with him to visit Abu Hafs at Nishapur. On this occasion Shah Shuja` was wearing a coat (qaba). When Abu Hafs saw him he rose from his seat and advanced to meet him, saying, ‘I have found in the coat what I sought in the cloak (`aba).’ During our residence in Nishapur I conceived a strong desire to associate with Abu Hafs, but was restrained from devoting myself to attendance on him by my respect for Shah Shuja`. Meanwhile I was imploring God to make, it possible for me to enjoy the society of Abu Hafs without hurting the feelings of Shah Shuja`, who was a jealous man; and Abu Hafs was aware of my wishes. On the day of our departure I dressed myself for the journey, although I was leaving my heart with Abu Hafs. Abu Hafs said familiarly to Shah Shuja`, ‘I am pleased with this youth; let him stay here.’ Shah Shuja` turned to me and said, ‘Do as the Shaykh bids thee.’ So I remained with Abu Hafs and experienced many wonderful things in his company.” God caused Abu `Uthman to pass through three “stations” by means of three spiritual directors, and these “stations “, which he indicated as belonging to them, he also made his own: the “station” of hope through associating with Yahya, the “station” of jealousy through associating with Shah Shuja`, and the “station” of affection (shafaqat) through associating with Abu Hafs. It is allowable for a disciple to associate with five or six or more directors and to have a different “station” revealed to him by each one of them, but it is better that he should not confuse his own “station” with theirs. He should point to their perfection in that “station” and say: “I gained this by associating with them, but they were superior to it.” This is more in accordance with good manners, for spiritual adepts have nothing to do with “stations” and “states”.
To Abu `Uthman was due the divulgation of Sufism in Nishapur and Khurasan. He consorted with Junayd, Ruwaym, Yusuf ibn al-Husayn, and Muhammad ibn Fadl al-Balkhi, and no Shaykh ever derived as much spiritual advantage from his directors as he did. The people of Nishapur set up a pulpit that he might discourse to them on Sufism. He is the author of sublime treatises on various branches of this science. It is related that he said: “It behoves one whom God hath honoured with gnosis not to dishonour himself by disobedience to God.” This refers to actions acquired by Man and to his continual effort to keep the commandments of God, because, even though you recognize that it is worthy of God not, to dishonour by disobedience anyone whom He has honoured with gnosis, yet gnosis is God’s gift and disobedience is Man’s act. It is impossible that one who is honoured with God’s gift should be dishonoured by his own act. God honoured Adam with knowledge: He did not dishonour him on account of his sin.
He associated with Junayd and Abu ‘l-Hasan Nuri and other great Shaykhs. It is recorded that he said: “The mind of the gnostic is fixed on his Lord; he does not pay attention to anything else,” because the gnostic knows nothing except gnosis, and since gnosis is the whole capital of his heart, his thoughts are entirely bent on vision (of God), for distraction of thought produces cares, and cares keep one back from God. He tells the following story: “One day I saw a beautiful Christian boy. I was amazed at his loveliness and stood still opposite him. Junayd passed by me. I said to him, ‘O master, will God burn a face like this in Hell-fire?’ He answered: ‘O my son, this is a trick of the flesh, not a look by which one takes warning. If you look with due consideration, the same marvel is existent in every atom of the universe. You will soon be punished for this want of respect.’ When Junayd turned away from me I immediately forgot the Koran, and it did not come back to my memory until I had’ for years implored God to help me and had repented of my sin. Now I dare not pay heed to any created object or waste my time by looking at things.”
He was an intimate friend of Junayd. In jurisprudence he followed Dawud [al-Zahiri of Isfahan], and he was deeply versed in the sciences relating to the interpretation and reading of the Koran. He was famed for the loftiness of his state and the exaltedness of his station, and for his journeys in detachment from the world (tajrid), and for his severe austerities. Towards the end of his life he hid himself among the rich and gained the Caliph’s confidence, but such was the perfection of his spiritual rank that he was not thereby veiled from God. Hence Junayd said: “We are devotees occupied (with the world), and Ruwaym is a man occupied (with the world) who is devoted (to God).” He wrote several works on Sufism, one of which, entitled Ghalat al-Wajidin [i.e. “The Errors of Ecstatic Persons”], deserves particular mention. I am exceedingly fond of it. One day he was asked, “ How are you?” He replied: “How is he whose religion is his lust and whose thought is (fixed on) his worldly affairs, who is neither a pious God-fearing man nor a gnostic and one of God’s elect?” This refers to the vices of the soul that is subject to passion and regards lust as its religion. Sensual men consider anyone to be devout who complies with their inclinations, even though he be a heretic, and anyone to be irreligious who thwarts their desires, even though he be a pietist. This is a widely spread disease at the present time. God save us from associating with any such person! Ruwaym doubtless gave this answer in reference to the inward state of the questioner, which he truly diagnosed, or it may be that God had temporarily allowed him to fall into that condition, and that he described himself as he then was in reality.
He was one of the ancient Shaykhs and great Imams of his age. He was a disciple of Dhu ‘l-Nun the Egyptian, and consorted with a large number of Shaykhs and performed service to them all. It is related that he said: “The meanest of mankind is the covetous dervish and he who loves his beloved, and the noblest of them is the veracious (al-siddiq).” Covetousness renders the dervish ignominious in both worlds, because he is already despicable in the eyes of worldlings, and only becomes more despicable if he builds any hopes on them. Wealth with honour is far more perfect than poverty with disgrace. Covetousness causes the dervish to incur the imputation of sheer mendacity. Again, he who loves his beloved is the meanest of mankind, since the lover acknowledges himself to be very despicable in comparison with his beloved and abases himself before her, and this also is the result of desire. So long as Zulaykha desired Yusuf, she became every day more mean: when she cast desire away, God gave her beauty and youth back to her. It is a law that when the lover advances, the beloved retires. If the lover is satisfied with love alone, then the beloved draws near. In truth, the lover has honour only while he has no desire for union. Unless his love diverts him from all thought of union or separation, his love is weak.
He was held in great esteem by all the Shaykhs. They called him Sumnun the Lover (al-Muhibb), but he called himself Sumnun the Liar (al-Kadhdhab). He suffered much persecution at the hands of Ghulam al-Khalil [1], who had made himself known to the Caliph and courtiers by his pretended piety and Sufism. This hypocrite spoke evil of the Shaykhs and dervishes, hoping to bring about their banishment from Court and to establish his own power. Fortunate indeed were Sumnun and those Shaykhs to have only one adversary of this sort. In the present day there are a hundred Ghulam al-Khalils for every true spiritualist, but what matter? Carrion is fit food for vultures. When Sumnun gained eminence and popularity in Baghdad, Ghulam al-Khalil began to intrigue. A woman had fallen in love with Sumnun and made, proposals to him, which he refused. She went to Junayd, begging him to advise Sumnun to marry her. On being sent away by Junayd, she came to Ghulam al-Khalil and accused Sumnun of having attempted her virtue. He listened eagerly to her slanders, and induced the Caliph to command that Sumnun should be put to death. When the Caliph was about to give the word to the executioner his tongue stuck in his throat. The same night he dreamed that his empire would last no longer than Sumnun’s life. Next day he asked his pardon and restored him to favour. Sumnun is the author of lofty sayings and subtle indications concerning the real nature of love. On his way from the Hijaz the people of Fayd requested him to discourse to them about this subject. He mounted the pulpit, but while he was speaking all his hearers departed. Sumnun turned to the lamps and said: “I am speaking to you.” Immediately all the lamps collapsed and broke into small bits. It is related that he said: “A thing can be explained only by what is more subtle, than itself: there is nothing subtler than love: by what, then, shall love be explained?” The meaning of this is that love cannot be explained because explanation is an attribute of the explainer. Love is an attribute of the Beloved, therefore no explanation of its real nature is possible.
[1] Abu `Abd Allah Ahmad ibn Muhammad ibn Ghalib ibn Khalid al-Basri al-Bahili, generally known as Ghulam Khalil, died in 275 A.H. He is described by Abu ‘I- Mahasin (Nujum, ii, 79, 1 ff.) as a traditionist, ascetic, and saint. According to the Tadhkirat al-Awliya (ii, 48, 4 ff.), he represented to the Caliph that Junayd, Nuri, Shibli, and other eminent Sufis were freethinkers and heretics, and urged him to put them to death.
He was of royal descent. He associated with Abu Turab Nakhshabi and many other Shaykhs. Something has been said of him in the notice of Abu `Uthman al-Hiri. He com posed a celebrated treatise on Sufism as well as a book entitled Mir’at al-Hukama [i.e. “The Mirror of the Sages”]. It is recorded that he said “The eminent have eminence until they see it, and the saints have saintship until they see it,” i.e., whoever regards his eminence loses its reality, and whoever regards his saintship loses its reality. His biographers relate that for forty years he never slept; then he fell asleep and dreamed of God. “O Lord,” he cried, “I was seeking Thee in nightly vigils, but I have found Thee in sleep.” God answered: “O Shah, you have found Me by means of those nightly vigils: if you had not sought Me there, you would not have found Me here.”
He was one of the principal Sufis, and is the author of celebrated works on the mystical sciences. He became a disciple of Junayd after he had seen Abu Sa`id Kharraz and had associated with [Abu `Abd Allah Sa`id ibn Yazid al-] Nibaji. He was the Imam of his age in theology. It is related that he said: “Ecstasy does not admit of explanation, because it is a secret between God and the true believers.” Let men seek to explain it as they will, their explanation is not that secret, inasmuch as all human power and effort is divorced from the Divine mysteries. It is said that when `Amr came to Isfahan a young man associated with him against the wish of his father. The young man fell into a sickness. One day the Shaykh with a number of friends came to visit him. He begged the Shaykh to bid the singer (qawwal) chant a few verses, where upon `Amr desired the singer to chant:
Ma li maridtu wa-lam ya`udni `a’id
Minkum wa-yamradu `abdukum fa-a`udu
“How is it that when I fell ill none of you visited me,
Though I visit your slave when he falls ill?”
On hearing this the invalid left his bed and sat down, and the violence of his malady was diminished. He said: “Give me some more.” So the singer chanted:
Wa-ashaddu min maradi `alayya sududukum
Wa-sududu `abdikumu `alayya shadidu.
“Your neglect is more grievous to me than my sickness;
It would grieve me to neglect your slave.”
The young man’s sickness departed from him. His father permitted him to associate with `Amr and repented of the suspicion which he had harboured in his heart, and the youth became an eminent Sufi.
His austerities were great and his devotions excellent. He has fine sayings on sincerity and the defects of human actions. The formal divines say that he combined the Law and the Truth (jama`a bayn al-shari`at wa ‘l-haqiqat). This statement is erroneous, for the two things have never been divided. The Law is the Truth, and the Truth is the Law. Their assertion is founded on the fact that the sayings of this Shaykh are more intelligible and easy to apprehend than is sometimes the case. Inasmuch as God has joined the Law to the Truth, it is impossible that His saints should separate them. If they be separated, one must inevitably be rejected and the other accepted. Rejection of the Law is heresy, and rejection of the Truth is infidelity and polytheism. Any (proper) separation between them is made, not to establish a difference of meaning, but to affirm the Truth, as when it is said: “The words there is no god save Allah are Truth, and the words Muhammad is the Apostle of Allah are Law.” No one can separate the one from the other without impairing his faith, and it is vain to wish to do so. In short, the Law is a branch of the Truth: knowledge of God is Truth, and obedience to His command is Law. These formalists deny whatever does not suit their fancy, and it is dangerous to deny one of the fundamental principles of the Way to God. Praise be to Allah for the faith which He has given us! And it is related that he said: “The sun does not rise or set upon anyone on the face of the earth who is not ignorant of God, unless he prefers God to his own soul and spirit and to his present and future life,” i.e., if anyone cleaves to self-interest, that is a proof that he is ignorant of God, because knowledge of God requires abandonment of forethought (tadbir), and abandonment of forethought is resignation (taslim), whereas perseverance in forethought arises from ignorance of predestination.
He was approved by the people of `Iraq as well as by those of Khurasan. He was a pupil of Ahmad ibn Khadruya, and Abu `Uthman of Hira had a great affection for him. Having been expelled from Balkh by fanatics on account of his love of Sufism, he went to Samarqand, where he passed his life. It is related that he said: “He that has most knowledge of God is he that strives hardest to fulfil His commandments, and follows most closely the custom of His Prophet.” The nearer one is to God the more eager one is to do His bidding, and the farther one is from God the more averse one is to follow His Apostle; It is related that he said: “I wonder at those who cross deserts and wildernesses to reach His House and Sanctuary, because the traces of His prophets are to be found there: why do not they cross their own passions and lusts to reach their hearts, where they will find the traces of their Lord?” That is to say, the heart is the seat of knowledge of God and is more venerable than the Ka`ba, to which men turn in devotion. Men are ever looking towards the Ka`ba, but God is ever looking towards the heart. Wherever the heart is, my Beloved is there; wherever His decree is, my desire is there; wherever the traces of my prophets are, the eyes of those whom I love are directed there.
He is the author of many excellent books which, by their eloquence, declare the miracles vouchsafed to him, e.g., the Khatm al-Wilayat [i.e. “The Seal of Saintship”], the Kitab al-Nahj [i.e. “The Book of the Highway”], the Nawadir al-Usul [i.e. “Choice Principles”], and many more, such as theKitab al-Tawhid [i.e. “The Book of Unification”] and the Kitab `Adhab al-Qabr [i.e. “The Book of the Torment of the Tomb”]: it would be tedious to mention them all. I hold him in great veneration and am entirely devoted to him. My Shaykh said: “Muhammad is a union pearl that has no like in the whole world.” He has also written works on the formal sciences, and is a trustworthy authority for the traditions of the Prophet which he related. He began a commentary on the Koran, but did not live long enough to finish it. The completed portion is widely circulated among theologians. He studied jurisprudence with an intimate friend of Abu Hanifa. The inhabitants of Tirmidh call him Muhammad Hakim, and the Hakimis, a Sufi sect in that region, are his followers. Many remarkable stories are told of him, as for instance that he associated with the Apostle Khidr. His disciple, Abu Bakr Warraq, relates that Khidr used to visit him every Sunday, and that they conversed with each other. It is recorded that he said: “Anyone who is ignorant of the nature of servantship (`ubudiyyat) is yet more ignorant of the nature of lordship (rububiyyat),” i.e., whoever does not know the way to knowledge of himself does not know the way to knowledge of God, and whoever does not recognize the con tamination of human qualities does not recognize the purity of the Divine attributes, inasmuch as the outward is connected with the inward, and he who claims to possess the former without the latter makes an absurd assertion. Knowledge of the nature of lordship depends on having right principles of servantship, and is not perfect without them. This is a very profound and instructive saying. It will be fully explained in the proper place.
He was a great Shaykh and ascetic. He had seen Ahmad ibn Khadruya and associated with Muhammad ibn `Ali. He is the author of books on rules of discipline and ethics. The Sufi Shaykhs have called him “The Instructor of the Saints” (mu’addib al-awliya). He relates the following story: “Muhammad ibn `Ali handed to me some of his writings with the request that I should throw them into the Oxus. I had not the heart to do so, but placed them in my house and came to him and told him that I had carried out his order. He asked me what I had seen. I replied, ‘Nothing.’ He said, ‘You have not obeyed me; return and throw them into the river.’ I returned, doubting the promised sign, and cast them into the river. The waters parted and a chest appeared, with its lid open. As soon as the papers fell into it, the lid closed and the waters joined again and the chest vanished. I went back to him and told him what had occurred. He answered, ‘Now you have thrown them in.’ I begged him to explain the mystery. He said: ‘I composed a work on theology and mysticism which could hardly be comprehended by the intellect. My brother Khidr desired it of me, and God bade the waters bring it to him.’”
It is related that Abu Bakr Warraq said: “There are three classes of men – divines (`ulama) and princes (umara) and dervishes (fuqara). When the divines are corrupt, piety and religion are vitiated; when the princes are corrupt, men’s livelihood is spoiled; and when the dervishes are corrupt, men’s morals are depraved.” Accordingly, the corruption of the divines consists in covetousness, that of the princes in injustice, and that of the dervishes in hypocrisy. Princes do not become corrupt until they turn their backs on divines, and divines do not become corrupt until they associate with princes, and dervishes do not become corrupt until they seek ostentation, because the injustice of princes is due to want of knowledge, and the covetousness of divines is due to want of piety, and the hypocrisy of dervishes is due to want of trust in God.
He was the first who explained the doctrine of annihilation (fana) and subsistence (baqa). He is the author of brilliant compositions and sublime sayings and allegories. He had met Dhu ‘l-Nun of Egypt, and associated with Bishr and Sari. It is related that concerning the words of the Apostle, “Hearts are naturally disposed to love him who acts kindly towards them,” he said: “Oh! I wonder at him who sees none acting kindly towards him except God, how he does not incline to God with his whole being,” inasmuch as true beneficence belongs to the Lord of phenomenal objects and is conferred only upon those who have need of it; how can he who needs beneficence from others bestow it upon anyone? God is the King and Lord of all and bath need of none. Recognizing this, the friends of God behold in every gift and benefit the Giver and Benefactor. Their hearts are wholly taken captive by love of Him and turned away from everything else.
According to others, his name is `Ali ibn Sahl. He was a great Shaykh. Junayd and he wrote exquisite letters to one another, and `Amr ibn `Uthman Makki went to Isfahan to visit him. He consorted with Abu Turab and Junayd. He followed a praiseworthy Path in Sufism and one that was peculiarly his own. He was adorned with acquiescence in God’s will and self-discipline, and was preserved from mischiefs and con taminations. He spoke eloquently on the theory and practice of mysticism, and lucidly explained its difficulties and symbolical allusions. It is related that he said: “Presence (hudur) is better than certainty (yaqin), because presence is an abiding state (watanat), whereas certainty is a transient one (khatarat),” i.e., presence makes its abode in the heart and does not admit forgetfulness, while certainty is a feeling that comes and goes: hence those who are “present” (hadiran) are in the sanctuary, and those who have certainty (muqinan) are only at the gate. The subject of “absence” and “presence” will be discussed in a separate chapter of this book.
And he said also: “From the time of Adam to the Resur rection people cry, ‘The heart, the heart!’ and I wish that I might find some one to describe what the heart is or how it is, but I find none. People in general give the name of ‘heart’ (dil) to that piece of flesh which belongs to madmen and ecstatics and children, who really are without heart (bedil). What, then, is this heart, of which I hear only, the name?” That is to say, if I call intellect the heart, it is not the heart and if I call spirit the heart, it is not the heart; and if I call knowledge the heart, it is not the heart. All the evidences of the Truth subsist in the heart, yet only the name of it is to be found.
He was a great Shaykh, and in his time discoursed with eloquence on ethics and preached excellent sermons. He died at an advanced age. Both Shibli and Ibrahim Khawwas were converted in his place of meeting. He sent Shibli to Junayd, wishing to observe the respect due to the latter. He was a pupil of Sari, and was contemporary with Junayd and Abu ‘l-Hasan Nuri. Junayd held him in high regard, and Abu Hamza of Baghdad treated him with the utmost consideration. It is related that he was called Khayr al-Nassaj from the following circumstance. He left Samarra, his native town, with the intention of performing the pilgrimage. At the gate of Kufa, which lay on his route, he was seized by a weaver of silk, who cried out: “You are my slave, and your name is Khayr.” Deeming this to come from God, he did not contradict the weaver, and remained many years in his employment. When ever his master said “Khayr!” he answered, “At thy service” (labbayk), until the man repented of what he had done and said to Khayr: “I made a mistake; you are not my slave.” So he departed and went to Mecca, where he attained to such a degree that Junayd said: “Khayr is the best of us” (Khayr khayruna). He used to prefer to be called Khayr, saying: “It is not right that I should alter a name which has been bestowed on me by a Muslim.” They relate that when the hour of his death approached, it was time for the evening prayer. He opened his eyes and looked at the Angel of Death and said: “Stop! God save thee! Thou art only a servant who has received His orders, and I am the same. That which thou art commanded to do (viz, to take my life) will not escape thee, but that which I am commanded to do (viz, to perform the evening prayer) will escape me: therefore let me do as I am bidden, and then do as thou art bidden.” He then called for water and cleansed himself, and performed the evening prayer and gave up his life. On the same night he was seen in a dream and was asked: “What has God done to thee?” He answered: “Do not ask me of this, but I have gained release from your world.”
It is related that he said in his place of meeting: “God hath expanded the breasts of the pious with the light of certainty, and hath opened the eyes of the possessors of certainty with the light of the verities of faith.” Certainty is indispensable to the pious, whose hearts are expanded with the light of certainty, and those who have certainty cannot do without the verities of faith, inasmuch as their intellectual vision consists in the light of faith. Accordingly, where faith is certainty is there, and where certainty is piety is there, for they go hand in hand with each other.
He is one of the ancient Shaykhs of Khurasan. He associated with Abu Turab, and had seen Kharraz [1]. He was firmly grounded in trust in God (tawakkul). It is a well-known story that one day he fell into a pit. After three days had passed a party of travellers approached. Abu Hamza said to himself: “ I will call out to them.” Then he said: “No; it is not good that I seek aid from anyone except God, and I shall be complaining of God if I tell them that my God has cast me into a pit and implore them to rescue me.” When they came up and saw an open pit in the middle of the road, they said: “For the sake of obtaining Divine recompense (thawab) we must cover this pit lest anyone should fall into it.” Abu Hamza said: “ I became deeply agitated and abandoned hope of life. After they blocked the mouth of the pit and departed, I prayed to God and resigned myself to die, and hoped no more of mankind. When night fell I heard a movement at the top of the pit. I looked attentively. The mouth of the pit was open, and I saw a huge animal like a dragon, which let down its tail. I knew that God had sent it arid that I should be saved in this way. I took hold of its tail and it dragged me out. A heavenly voice cried to me, ‘This is an excellent escape of thine, O Au Hamza! We have saved thee from death by means of a death” (i.e. a deadly monster).
He was asked, “Who is the stranger (gharib)?” He replied, “He who shuns society,” because the dervish has no home or society either in this world or the next, and when he is dis sociated from phenomenal existence he shuns everything, and then he is a stranger; and this is a very lofty degree.
[1] See No. 44 of this chapter.
He was one of the great men of Khurasan, and the Saints of God are unanimously agreed that he was one of the Awtad. He associated with the Qutb, who is the pivot of the universe. On being asked to say who the Qutb was, he did not declare his name but hinted that Junayd was that personage. He had done service to the Forty who possess the rank of fixity (sahib tamkin) and received instruction from them. It is related that he said: “If anyone takes joy in aught except God, his joy produces sorrow, and if anyone is not intimate with the service of his Lord, his intimacy produces loneliness (wahshat),” i.e., all save Him is perishable, and whoever rejoices in what is perishable, when that perishes becomes stricken with sorrow; and except His service all else is vain, and when the vileness of created objects is made manifest, his intimacy (with them) is wholly turned to loneliness: hence, the sorrow and loneliness of the entire universe consist in regarding that which is other (than God).
In his time he was an approved teacher and a careful guardian of his disciples. Both Ibrahim Khawwas and Ibrahim Shaybani were pupils of his. He has lofty sayings and shining evidences, and he was perfectly grounded in detachment from this world. It is related that he said: “I never saw anyone more just than the world: if you serve her she will serve you, and if you leave her she will leave you,” i.e. as long as you seek her she will seek you, but when you turn away from her and seek God she will flee from you, and worldly thoughts will no more cling to your heart.
[1] MSS. L and B have “Ahmad.”
He wrote brilliant works on the science of ethics and the detection of spiritual cankers. He was a pupil of Muhammad ibn `Ali al-Tirmidhi, and a contemporary of Abu Bakr Warraq. Ibrahim Samarqandi was a pupil of his. It is related that he said: “All mankind are galloping on the race-courses of heedlessness, relying upon idle fancies, while they suppose them selves to be versed in the Truth and to be speaking from Divine revelation.” This saying alludes to natural self-conceit and to the pride of the soul. Men, though they are ignorant, have a firm belief in their ignorance, especially ignorant Soils, who are the vilest creatures of God, just as wise Sufis are the noblest. The latter possess the Truth and are without conceit, whereas the former possess conceit and are without the Truth. They graze in the fields of heedlessness and imagine that it is the field of saintship. They rely on fancy and suppose it to be certainty. They go about with form and think it is reality. They speak from their own lust and think it is a Divine revelation. This they do because conceit is not expelled from a man’s head save by vision of the majesty or the beauty of God: for in the manifestation of His beauty they see Him alone, and their conceit is annihilated, while in the revelation of His majesty they do not see themselves, and their conceit does not intrude.
He was an intimate friend of Junayd, and also associated with Sahl ibn `Abd Allah. He was learned in every branch of science and was the Imam of his day in jurisprudence, besides being well acquainted with theology. His rank in Sufism was such that Junayd said to him: “Teach my pupils discipline and train them!” He succeeded Junayd and sat in his chair. It is related that he said: “The permanence of faith and the sub sistence of religions and the health of bodies depend on three qualities: satisfaction (iktifa) and piety (ittiqa) and abstinence (ihtima): if one is satisfied with God, his conscience becomes good; and if one guards himself from what God has forbidden, his character becomes upright; and if one abstains from what does not agree with him, his constitution is brought into good order. The fruit of satisfaction is pure knowledge of God, and the result of piety is excellence of moral character, and the end of abstinence is equilibrium of constitution.” The Apostle said, “He that prays much by night, his face is fair by day,” and he also said that the pious shall come at the Resurrection “with resplendent faces on thrones of light.”
He was always held in great respect by his contemporaries. He was versed in the sciences of Koranic exegesis and criticism, and expounded the subtleties of the Koran with an eloquence and insight peculiar to himself. He was an eminent pupil of Junayd, and had associated with Ibrahim Maristani. Abu Sa`id Kharraz regarded him with the utmost veneration, and used to declare that no one deserved the name of Sufi except him. It is related that he said: “Acquiescence in natural habits prevents a man from attaining to the exalted degrees of spirituality,” because natural dispositions are the instruments and organs of the sensual part (nafs), which is the centre of “veiling” (hijab), whereas the spiritual part (haqiqat) is the centre of revelation. Natural dispositions become attached to two things: firstly, to this world and its accessories, and secondly, to the next world and its circumstances: to the former in virtue of homogeneousness, and to the latter through imagination and in virtue of heterogeneousness and non-cognition. Therefore they are attached to the notion of the next world, not to its true idea, for if they knew it in reality, they would break off connexion with this world, and nature would then have lost all her power and spiritual things would be revealed. There can be no harmony between the next world and human nature until the latter is annihilated, because “in the next world is that which the heart of man never conceived.” The worth (khatar) of the next world lies in the fact that the way to it is full of danger (khatar). A thing that only comes into one’s thoughts (khawatir) has little worth; and inasmuch as the imagination is incapable of knowing the reality of the next world, how can human nature become familiar with the true idea (`ayn) thereof? It is certain that our natural faculties can be acquainted only with the notion (pindasht) of the next world.
He was an enamoured and intoxicated votary of Sufism. He had a strong ecstasy and a lofty spirit. The Sufi Shaykhs are at variance concerning him. Some reject him, while others accept him. Among the latter class are `Amr ibn `Uthman al- Makki, Abu Ya`qub Nahrajuri, Abu Ya`qub Aqta`, `Ali ibn Sahl Isfahani, and others. He is accepted, moreover, by Ibn `Ata, Muhammad ibn Khafif, Abu ‘l-Qasim Nasrabadi, and all the moderns. Others, again, suspend their judgment about him,
e.g. Junayd and Shibli and Jurayri and Husri. Some accuse him of magic and matters coming under that head, but in our days the Grand Shaykh Abu Sa`id ibn Abi ‘l-Khayr and Shaykh Abu ‘l-Qasim Gurgani and Shaykh Abu ‘l-`Abbas Shaqani looked upon him with favour, and in their eyes he was a great man. The Master Abu ‘l-Qasim Qushayri remarks that if al-Hallaj was a genuine spiritualist he is not to be banned on the ground of popular condemnation, and if he was banned by Sufism and rejected by the Truth he is not to be approved on the ground of popular approval. Therefore we leave him to the judgment of God, and honour him according to the tokens of the Truth which we have found him to possess. But of all these Shaykhs only a few deny the perfection of his merit and the purity of his spiritual state and the abundance of his ascetic practices. It would be an act of dishonesty to omit his biography from this book. Some persons pronounce his outward behaviour to be that of an infidel, and disbelieve in him and charge him with trickery and magic, and suppose that Husayn ibn Manur Hallaj is that heretic of Baghdad who was the master of Muhammad ibn Zakariyya [1] and the companion of Abu Sa`id the Carmathian; but this Husayn whose character is in dispute was a Persian and a native of Bayda, and his rejection by the Shaykhs was due, not to any attack on religion and doctrine, but to his conduct and behaviour. At first he was a pupil of Sahl ibn `Abd Allah, whom he left, without asking permission, in order to attach himself to `Amr ibn `Uthman Makki. Then he left `Amr ibn `Uthman, again without asking permission, and sought to associate with Junayd, but Junayd would not receive him. This is the reason why he is banned by all the Shaykhs. Now, one who is banned on account of his conduct is not banned on account of his principles. Do you not see that Shibli said: “Al-Hallaj and I are of one belief, but my madness saved me, while his intelligence destroyed him”? Had his religion been suspected, Shibli would not have said: “Al-Hallaj and I are of one belief.” And Muhammad ibn Khafif said: “He is a divinely learned man” (`alim-i rabbani). Al-Hallaj is the author of brilliant compositions and allegories and polished sayings in theology and jurisprudence. I have seen fifty works by him at Baghdad and in the neighbouring districts, and some in Khuzistan and Fars and Khurasan. All his sayings are like the first visions of novices; some of them are stronger, some weaker, some easier, some more unseemly than others. When God bestows a vision on anyone, and he endeavours to describe what he has seen with the power of ecstasy and the help of Divine grace, his words are obscure, especially if he expresses himself with haste and self-admiration: then they are more repugnant to the imaginations, and incomprehensible to the minds, of those who hear them, and then people say, “This is a sublime utterance,” either believing it or not, but equally ignorant of its meaning whether they believe or deny. On the other hand, when persons of true spirituality and insight have visions, they make no effort to describe them, and do not occupy themselves with self-admiration on that account, and are careless of praise and blame alike, and are undisturbed by denial and belief.
It is absurd to charge al-Hallaj with being a magician. According to the principles of Islamic orthodoxy, magic is real, just as miracles are real; but the manifestation of magic in the state of perfection is infidelity, whereas the manifestation of miracles in the state of perfection is knowledge of God (ma`rifat), because the former is the result of God’s anger, while the latter is the corollary of His being well pleased. I will explain this more fully in the chapter on the affirmation of miracles. By consent of all Sunnites who are endowed with perspicacity, no Muslim can be a magician and no infidel can be held in honour, for contraries never meet. Husayn, as long as he lived, wore the garb of piety, consisting in prayer and praise of God and continual fasts and fine sayings on the subject of Unification. If his actions were magic, all this could not possibly have proceeded from him. Consequently, they must have been miracles, and miracles are vouchsafed only to a true saint. Some orthodox theologians reject him on the ground that his sayings are pantheistic (ba-ma`ni-yi imtizaj u ittihad), but the offence lies solely in the expression, not in the meaning. A person overcome with rapture has not the power of expressing himself correctly; besides, the meaning of the expression may be difficult to apprehend, so that people mistake the writer’s intention, and repudiate, not his real meaning, but a notion which they have formed for themselves. I have seen at Baghdad and in the adjoining districts a number of heretics who pretend to be the followers of al-Hallaj and make his sayings an argument for their heresy (zandaqa) and call themselves Hallajis. They spoke of him in the same terms of exaggeration (ghuluww) as the Rafidis (Shi`ites) apply to `Ali. I will refute their doctrines in the chapter concerning the different Sufi sects. In conclusion, you must know that the sayings of al-Hallaj should not be taken as a model, inasmuch as he was an ecstatic (maghlub andar hal-i khud), not firmly settled (mutamakkin), and a man needs to be firmly settled before his sayings can be considered authoritative. Therefore, although he is dear to my heart, yet his “path” is not soundly established on any principle, and his state is not fixed in any position, and his experiences are largely mingled with error. When my own visions began I derived much support from him, that is to say, in the way of evidences (barahin). At an earlier time I composed a book in explanation of his sayings and demonstrated their sublimity by proofs and arguments. Furthermore, in another work, entitled Minhaj I have spoken of his life from beginning to end; and now I have given some account of him in this place. How can a doctrine whose principles require to be corroborated with so much caution be followed and imitated? Truth and idle fancy never agree. He is continually seeking to fasten upon some erroneous theory. It is related that he said: Al-alsinat mustan tiqat tahta nutqiha mustahlikat [2], i.e. “speaking tongues are the destruction of silent hearts”. Such expressions are entirely mischievous. Expression of the meaning of reality is futile. If the meaning exists it is not lost by expression, and if it is non-existent it is not created by expression. Expression only produces an unreal notion and leads the student mortally astray by causing him to imagine that the expression is the real meaning.
[1] The famous physician Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn Zakariyya al-Razi, who died about 320 A.H. See Brockelmann, I, 233.
[2] Literally, “The tongues desire to speak, (but) under their speech they desire to perish.’’
He attained a high degree in the doctrine of trust in God (tawakkul). He met many Shaykhs, and many signs and miracles were vouchsafed to him. He is the author of excellent works on the ethics of Sufism. It is related that he said: “All knowledge is comprised in two sentences: ‘do not trouble your self with anything that is done for you, and do not neglect anything that you are bound to do for yourself,’” i.e., do not trouble yourself with destiny, for what is destined from eternity will not be changed by your efforts, and do not neglect His commandment, for you will be punished if you neglect it. He was asked what wonders he had seen. “Many wonders,” he replied, “but the most wonderful was that the Apostle Khidr begged me to let him associate with me, and I refused. Not that I desired any better companion, but I feared that I should depend on him rather than on God, and that my trust in God would be impaired by consorting with him, and that in consequence of performing a work of supererogation I should fail to perform a duty incumbent on me.” This is the degree of perfection.
He was one of the principal Sufis scholastic theologians (mutakalliman). He was a pupil of Harith Muhasibi, and associated with Sari and was contemporary with Nuri and Khayr Nassaj. He used to preach in the Rusafa mosque at Baghdad. He was versed in Koranic exegesis and criticism, and related Apostolic Traditions on trustworthy authority. It was he who was with Nuri when the latter was persecuted and when God delivered the Sufis from death. I will tell this story in the place where Nuri’s doctrine is explained. It is recorded that Abu Hamza said: “If thy ‘self’ (nafs) is safe from thee, thou hast done all that is due to it; and if mankind are safe from thee, thou hast paid all that is due to them,” i.e., there are two obligations, one which thou owest to thy “self” and one which thou owest to others. If thou refrain thy “self” from sin and seek for it the path of future salvation, thou hast fulfilled thy obligation towards it; and if thou make others secure from thy wickedness and do not wish to injure them, thou hast fulfilled thy obligation towards them. Endeavour that no evil may befall thy “self” or others from thee: then occupy thyself with fulfilling thy obligation to God.
He was a profound theosophist, praiseworthy in the eyes of all the Shaykhs. He was one of the early disciples of Junayd. His, abstruse manner of expression caused his sayings to be regarded with suspicion by formalists (zahiriyan). He found peace in no city until he came to Merv. The inhabitants of Merv welcomed him on account of his amiable disposition – for he was a virtuous man – and listened to his sayings; and he passed his life there. It is related that he said: “Those who remember their praise of God (dhikr) are more heedless than those who forget their praise,” because if anyone forgets the praise, it is no matter; but it does matter if he remembers the praise and forgets God. Praise is not the same thing as the object of praise. Neglect of the object of praise combined with thought, of the praise approximates to heedlessness more closely than neglect of the praise without thought. He who forgets, in his forgetfulness and absence, does not think that he is present (with God), but he who remembers, in his remembrance and absence from the object of praise, thinks that he is present (with God). Accordingly, to think that one is present when one is not present comes nearer to heedlessness than to be absent without thinking that one is present, for conceit (pindasht) is the ruin of those who seek the Truth. The more conceit, the less reality, and vice versa. Conceit really springs from the suspiciousness (tuhmat) of the intellect, which is produced by the insatiable desire (nahmat) of the lower soul; and holy aspiration (himmat) has nothing in common with either of these qualities. The fundamental principle of remembrance of God (dhikr) is either in absence (ghaybat) or in presence (hudur). When anyone is absent from himself and present with God, that state is not presence, but contemplation (mushahadat); and when anyone is absent from God and present with himself, that state is not remembrance of God (dhikr), but absence; and absence is the result of heedlessness (ghaflat). The truth is best known to God.
He was a great and celebrated Shaykh. He had a blameless spiritual life and enjoyed perfect communion with God. He was subtle in the use of symbolism, wherefore one of the moderns says: “The wonders of the world are three: the symbolical utterances (isharat) of Shibli, and the mystical sayings (nukat) of Murta`ish, and the anecdotes (hikayat) of Ja`far [1].” At first he was chief chamberlain to the Caliph, but he was converted in the assembly-room (majlis) of Khayr al-Nassaj and became a disciple of Junayd. He made the acquaintance of a large number of Shaykhs. It is related that he explained the verse “Tell the believers to refrain their eyes” (Koran xxiv: 30) as follows: “O Muhammad, tell the believers to refrain their bodily eyes from what is unlawful, and to, refrain their spiritual eyes from everything except God,” i.e. not to look at lust and to have no thought except the vision of God. It is a mark of heedlessness to follow one’s lusts and to regard unlawful things, and the greatest calamity that befalls the heedless is that they are ignorant of their own faults; for anyone who is ignorant here shall also be ignorant hereafter: “Those who are blind in lids world shall be blind in the next world” (Koran xvii: 74). In truth, until God clears the desire of lust out of a man’s heart the bodily eye is not safe from its hidden dangers, and until God establishes the desire of Himself in a man’s heart the spiritual eye is not safe from looking at other than Him.
It is related that one day when Shibli came into the bazaar, the people said, “This is a madman.” He replied: “You think I am mad, and I think you are sensible: may God increase my madness and your sense!” i.e., inasmuch as my madness is the result of intense love of God, while your sense is the result of great heedlessness, may God increase my madness in order that I may become nearer and nearer to Him, and may He increase your sense in order that you may become farther and farther from Him. This he said from jealousy (ghayrat) that anyone should be so beside one’s self as not to separate love of God from madness and not to distinguish between them in this world or the next.
[1] See No. 58 in this chapter.
He is the well-known biographer of the Saints. One of the most eminent and oldest, of Junayd’s pupils, he was profoundly versed in the various branches of Sufism and paid the utmost respect to the Shaykhs. He has many sublime sayings. In order to avoid spiritual conceit, he attributed to different persons the anecdotes which he composed in illustration of each topic. It is related that he said: “Trust in God is equanimity whether you find anything or no,” i.e., you are not made glad by having daily bread or sorrowful by not having it, because it is the property of the Lord, who has a better right than you either to preserve or to destroy: do not interfere, but let the Lord dispose of His own. Ja`far relates that he went to Junayd and found him suffering from a fever. “O Master,” he cried, “tell God in order that He may restore thee to health.” Junayd said: “Last night I was about to tell Him, but a voice whispered in my heart, ‘Thy body belongs to Me: I keep it well or ill, as I please. Who art thou, that thou shouldst interfere with My property.’”
He was a great Sufi and of royal descent. Many signs and virtues were vouchsafed to him. He discoursed lucidly on the arcana of Sufism. It is related that he said: “He who desires (murid) desires for himself only what God desires for him, and he who is desired (murad) does not desire anything in this world or the next except God.” Accordingly, he who is satisfied with the will of God must abandon his own will in order that he may desire, whereas the lover has no will of his own that he should have any object of desire. He who desires God desires only what God desires, and he whom God desires desires only God. Hence satisfaction (rida) is one of the “stations” (maqamat) of the beginning, and love (mahabbat) is one of the “states” (ahwal) of the end. The “stations” are connected with the realization of servantship (`ubudiyyat), while ecstasy (mashrab) leads to the corroboration of Lordship (rububiyyat). This being so, the desirer (murid) subsists in himself, and the desired (murad) subsists in God.
He associated with Abu Bakr Wasiti and derived instruction from many Shaykhs. He was the most accomplished (azraf) of the Sufis in companionship (suhbat) and the most sparing (azhad) of them in friendship (ulfat). He is the author of lofty sayings and praiseworthy compositions. It is related that he said: “Unification (al-tawhid) is this: that nothing should occur to your mind except God.” He belonged to a learned and influential family of Merv. Having inherited a large fortune from his father, he gave the whole of it in return for two of the Apostle’s hairs. Through the blessing of those hairs God bestowed on him a sincere repentance. He fell into the company of Abu Bakr Wasiti, and attained such a high degree that he became the leader of a Sufi sect. When he was on the point of death, he gave directions that those hairs should be placed in his mouth. His tomb is still to be seen at Merv, and people come thither to seek what they desire; and their prayers are granted.
[1] Nafahat, No. 167, has “Qasim ibn a1-Qasim al-Mahdi.”
He was the Imam of his age in diverse sciences. He was renowned for his mortifications and for his convincing eluci dation of mystical truths. His spiritual attainments are clearly shown by his compositions. He was acquainted with Ibn `Ata and Shibli and Husayn ibn Mansur and Jurayri, and associated at Mecca with Abu Ya`qub Nahrajuri. He made excellent journeys in detachment from the world (tajrid). He was of royal descent, but God bestowed on him repentance, so that he turned his back on the glories of this world. He is held in high esteem by spiritualists. It is related that he said: “Unification consists in turning away from nature,” because the natures of mankind are all veiled from the bounties and blind to the beneficence of God. Hence no one can turn to God until he has turned away from nature, and the “natural” man (sahib tab`) is unable to apprehend the reality of Unification, which is revealed to you only when you see the corruption of your own nature.
He was an eminent spiritualist of the class who have attained “fixity” (ahl-i tamkin), and was profoundly versed in various departments of knowledge. He practised austerities, and is the author of many notable sayings and excellent proofs con cerning the observation of spiritual blemishes (ru’yat-i afat). It is related that he said: “Whenever anyone prefers association with the rich to sitting with the poor God afflicts him with spiritual death.” The terms “association” (suhbat) and “sitting with” (mujalasat) are employed, because a man turns away from the poor only when he has sat with them, not when he has associated with them; for there is no turning away in associa tion. When he leaves off sitting with the poor in order to associate with the rich, his heart becomes dead to supplication (niyaz) and his body is caught in the toils of covetousness (az). Since the result of turning away from mujalasat is spiritual death, how should there be any turning away from suhbat? The two terms are clearly distinguished from each other in this saying.
He was like a king in Nishapur, save that the glory of kings is in this world, while his was in the next world. Original sayings and exalted signs were vouchsafed to him. Himself a pupil of Shibli, he was the master of the later Shaykhs of Khurasan. He was the most learned and devout man of his age. It is recorded that he said: “Thou art between two relationships: one to Adam, the other to God. If thou claim relationship to Adam, thou wilt enter the arenas of lust and the places of corruption and error; for by this claim thou seekest to realize thy humanity (bashariyyat). God hath said: ‘Verily, he was unjust and foolish’ (Koran xxxiii: 72). If, however, thou claim relationship to God, thou wilt enter the stations of revelation and evidence and protection (from sin) and saint-ship; for by this claim thou seekest to realize thy servantship (`ubudiyyat). God hath said: ‘The servants of the Merciful are those who walk on the earth meekly’ (Koran xxv: 64).” Relation ship to Adam ends at the Resurrection, whereas the relationship of being a servant of God subsists always and is unalterable. When a man refers himself to himself or to Adam, the utmost that he can reach is to say: “Verily, I have injured myself” (Koran xxviii: 15); but when he refers himself to God, the son of Adam is in the same case as those of whom God hath said: “O My servants, there is no fear for you this day” (Koran xliii: 68).
He is one of the great Imams of the Sufis and was unrivalled in his time. He has lofty sayings and admirable explanations in all spiritual matters. It is related that he said: “Leave me alone in my affliction! Are not ye children of Adam, whom God formed with His own hand and breathed a spirit into him and caused the angels to bow down to him? Then He commanded him to do something, and he disobeyed. If the first of the wine-jar is dregs, what will its last be?” That is to say: “When a man is left to himself he is all disobedience, but when Divine favour comes to his help he is all love. Now regard the beauty of Divine favour and compare with it the ugliness of thy behaviour, and pass thy whole life in this.”
I have mentioned some of the ancient Sufis whose example is authoritative. If I had noticed them all and had set forth their lives in detail and had included the anecdotes respecting them, my purpose would not have been accomplished, and this book would have run to great length. Now I will add some account of the modern Sufis.
Al-Hujwiri came from Ghazna, now in Afghanistan, then the capital of the mighty Ghaznavid Empire. He was a Sufi mystic who travelled widely in the Middle East and Transoxiana. The Kashf al-Muhjub was probably written in Lahore, where he is buried, not long before his death in about 1074. One of the oldest Sufi works in Persian, it is a substantial treatise aiming to set forth a complete system of Sufism. This is achieved partly by the discussion of acts and sayings of the great figures of the past, partly by discussion of features of doctrine and practice and the examination of the different views adopted by different Sufi Schools. It is enlivened by episodes from the author’s own experience. This edition provides an English translation, with introduction and index.
You are my ardour, my friend, faith, creed.
You are my body, you are my spirit, heart, soul.
You’re the direction towards which I pray.
You are my Mecca, my mosque, my pulpit.
You are my holy books and my Koran.
You are my religious obligations,
My Hajj, charity, fasting, call to prayer.
You are my asceticism, worship,
My obedience and my piety.
You are my knowledge and you’re my gnosis .
You’re my remembrance, my contemplation
You are my tasting and my ecstasy.
You are my love, my sweet, my darling, my honey
You are my favourite, and my soulmate!
You’re my spiritual preceptor, my guide ,
You are my Shaykh and my Enlightened One
You are my hope, my wish, my gains, losses.
You’re all I see, my pride, my deliv’rance.
You’re my faith, my honour, modesty, glory
You’re my pain, sorrow, my crying, playing
You are my illness and my remedy.
You are what lulls me to a peaceful sleep.
You are my beauty and my fate, fortune, fame.
You are my looking, enquiring, seeking
You are my understanding, my knowing
You are my henna, my collyrium,
My rouge, my tobacco, my betel-leaf!
You are my terror, my passion, madness
You’re my crying and my lamentation.
You are my Alpha and my Omega,
My Inner, Outer, Hidden, Manifest.
If, O’Belovéd, you accept Farid
You are my Sovereign and my Sultan.
Translated from Punjabi by Asif J. Naqshbandi
In the name of Allah, Most Merciful, and Compassionate
Time has passed, its winds bringing debris and sand, its rains having eroded the edifices of what was established before and we the later people must struggle to cling to what remains of a glorious legacy, now barely discernible. The legacy of the days of Men.
I write as a humble slave, bewildered by his own insignificance and utter inability, in face of the mammoth task of simply being a slave in these times. After one year in “The Islamic University of Madina” in Madina al Munawara, Arabia, it became overwhelmingly obvious to my distress, that “The Methodology of the Pious Fore bearers” as I had previously conceived it, was sadly void of the slightest iota of spiritual realization. Confused, frustrated and lost I often found myself quite literally wandering the streets of Madina often in the late hours of the night, in some attempt to fill a void within me. A void which had manifest itself with sudden terror, as such that it threw me into a rather curious state. Several internal crises emerged relating to my Islam. It became starkly obvious that my knowledge was severely deficient and that the people I thought possessed it, in fact did not. I was caught between my identity as a Muslim and a westerner due to some strange Fiqh positions with which I had come into contact. Facts revealed themselves, the nature of the reality of which forced me to question many of the notions I held concerning Scholarship in Islam and my view of the little I knew of Islamic history. I began to rebel and question absolutely everything I read, investigating all that I could in a desperate attempt to find the proper orientation, but for all my effort, I was still on my own and quite lost.
“You can’t subscribe to a tenet of the Ash’aris they are at the very limits of Kufr!” Yet Imam An Nawawee’s well documented adherence to this school was dismissed as “a mistake” on his part. I supposed that if it were acceptable to tread the limits of kufr, on the premise that it is a mistake then why should the same not be said for an issue like isbal. Unfortunately, very few at the mentioned university agreed with my premise and would rather excuse the Imam for what in their view amounts to kufree persuasions on his part (and Imam An Nawawee is above them and what they accuse him of…may Allah’s mercy be upon him) than the thousands or millions who simply fancy western trousers or jeans. There were much graver and more disturbing ideological (and not personal, may Allah be praised for that!) absurdities which characterized my encounters in the Hijaz. These are not fit to mention here, or anywhere else for that matter. With these experiences I returned to my country and entered introvert mode. I did as little as possible by way of Islamic work, for fear of unwittingly perpetuating atrocities or heresies the likes of which I had, previously. This inactivity was also due to my being more keenly aware of my unstable state and the rage and bitterness it entailed, then any of my associates, al hamdu li Allah, who concealed that which was best left concealed.
The summer break ended with my acceptance into the Arabic Language Program at the University of Jordan in Amman, where I would continue my quest to learn Islam.
In the light of my previous year, The University of Jordan with its multitudes of Jeans and Tee shirts busy at work and play was more of what I was accustomed to where universities are concerned so was the civil and mature method of instruction. I quickly settled in and began looking for shuyukh from whom I could take knowledge. It was not long before I heard of Nuh Keller, the shaikh from Amreekah. Of course, it goes without saying that prior to my departure from Guyana to Jordan, I was warned to stay clear of this figure and his “deviance”. Many warned me of him including one very prominent author and Islamic worker who happened to be visiting my country at that time, and who al hamdu li Allah I had occasion to meet. Nevertheless, I was being referred to this shaikh by Arabs with whom I had made acquaintance, and I was rather taken aback by the fact that they referred to him as an ALIM. I thought it difficult enough for a westerner to become an alim, but to be of the caliber that Arabs would have to acknowledge and accept it was a stunning and rare achievement the like of which could not be claimed even by the prominent Islamic worker who had warned me about him. Faced with this reality and the conviction that I could not simply make Taqleed of the individual who advised me not to seek out Shaikh Keller, I agreed to attend one of his classes. This was the beginning of my road to TASAWWUF.
This is not a story of an encounter filled with proofs, debates and high level scholarship, as the narrator is far from a scholar. If this is what intrigues you then this article will not. What follows is an account of an experience, the realms of which are the heart and soul not the tongue and mind. And all good is from Allah.
Qays Arthur.
I had agreed with a friend of mine to attend a class of Sheikh Keller, in his Amman home and was at the time reading some recommended works on the Schools of Jurisprudence orMathaahib, their validity and the need to adhere to one. Prominent in my thoughts at the time was the irony of the whole scenerio, that a firm anti-mathhabist such as myself could actually be found contemplating adherence to the Hanafee School by way of emulation or Taqleed. Still even more difficult to encompass was that I was on my way to visit the house of one of the most notoriously reputed of the “people of innovation” as some had labeled him.
We arrived in the area called Kharaabsha, a once simple outskirt village, now being transformed into a residential suburb, having been assimilated into the expanding city of Amman. I was rather surprised to see the modest building in which we were to find the Sheikh’s apartment. Simple and in many regards tucked away it seemed to be jealously, inconspicuously guarding some great treasure. So it seemed and so was indeed the case. We entered through the narrow opening of the neatly proportioned outer metal door, took off our footwear and placed it besides the multitude of other sandals and shoes that lay before the meshed door of the Sheikh. In session was a Fiqh class, being delivered by a student of his. The room was adequate though not large, soft cream dominated the walls, which, on that late fall afternoon made for a rather serene and sober setting. The student of the Sheikh, himself now on the verge of Sheikh-hood was Arab, Shafee’ee and from his confidence and ease of delivery, competent. I sat there enjoying what I could make out of his effortless elucidation of various points relating to Purity in hismathab. However, it having been the tail end of his class which I had caught, it was soon concluded. There was a brisk knock on the door directly to my back, upon which all in the room immediately stood up. The Sheikh entered. His pace was as brisk as the knock on the door. “As salaam alaikum” he greeted in a controlled, subdued tone as he took his seat on the ground. He gestured and we returned to our seats. My observation began.
Long since accustomed to a certain standard of “learned persons” and “students of knowledge”, I began my appraisal, it however became readily apparent that what I was accustomed to, was in fact of no particular standard at all. There he was, a red bearded white Sheikh, in eastern robes with an immaculate layer-wrapped white turban giving a class in Arabic to a group of attentive students (most of whom were Arab), seated on the ground. His entire comportment seemed deliberate and harnessed. Everything from his voice level to his gestures appeared be confirming to some pervading standard or will. The picture was one totally alien to me. I knew as I observed his students leaning forward to catch his every word that this was no run of the mill “sheikh”, such as we in the west are accustomed to. A penetrating oceanic gaze, complete certainty and serenity in his words and seemless erudite explanatory references and commentry characterized his dars of Ihya’ ‘Ilum ad Deen. I was impressed. Most captivating however, was the feel of his presence, felt in his gaze, Allah Exalted is my witness, the feel of his presence was absence. There was no choice in the matter, before me stood, not an “Islamic Worker”, nor “A Respected Da’ee” nor any of the other sadly defecient titles with which we have for too long been content in accepting from our community leaders. No, rather the truth was manifest, this initial encounter was a powerful indication of what was to become more apparent in sebsequent months. This Man’s mannerism, students and reputation all pointed to one undeniable fact; far from the ugliness of which his opposers accused him, he was indeed accomplished in his field as a Scholar…as a Sufi…as a Muslim. He was a living example of the teachings of our Beloved (Allah’s peace and blessings be upon him). Embodying Knowledge, Action and Spiritual Realization he immediately impressed and inspired me, as was the case of many before me and will continue to be the case of many more to come, Allah willing. My meeting Nuh Ha Mim Keller was my meeting Tasawuf, my entry into the reality of this Deen, my first taste of the vast expance of selfless reality…he had my pledge!
Wa al hamdu li Allahi Rab al ‘aalameen!
All praises are due to Allah. We praise Him, seek His help, and ask His forgiveness. We seek refuge in Allah from the evil in our souls and from our wrong actions. Whoever Allah guides, no one can mislead. And whomever Allah misguides, no one can guide. I testify that there is none worthy of worship except Allah. He is One, having no partner. And I testify that Muhammad is His servant and messenger. May Allah bless him and give him peace, with his family and Companions. Verily the best speech is the Book of Allah. And the best guidance is the guidance of Muhammad (sallallahu alaihi wa sallam).
With this opening invocation, I turn my attention to Tasawwuf – a realm of the Islamic sciences that is easily misunderstood without qualified instruction. Any discussion and/or comments on Tasawwuf must be backed by the knowledge of scholars in this field. Tasawwuf is one of the several Islamic sciences (ulum). Like most of the other Islamic ulum, it was not known by name, or in it’s later developed form, during the time of the Prophet (sallallahu alaihi wa sallam). This does not make it less legitimate. There are many Islamic sciences that only took shape many years after the Prophetic age; principles of jurisprudence (usul al-fiqh), for example, or the hadith methodology (ulum al-hadith). The essence of Tasawwuf is purely Islamic. To make this point, I will, in sha Allah, limit myself to reproducing opinions of scholars and taking extracts from several authentic sources.
I begin with a description of Tasawwuf in a recently published comprehensive work on Islam, The Oxford Encyclopaedia of the Modern Islamic World, edited by Professor John L. Esposito, Oxford University Press, Oxford, May 1995, 4 vols.: “in a broad sense, Sufism can be described as the interiorization and intensification of Islamic faith and practice. The original sense of sufi seems to have been ‘one who wears wool.’ By the eighth century the word was sometimes applied to Muslims whose ascetic inclinations led them to wear coarse and uncomfortable woolen garments. Gradually it came to designate a group who differentiated themselves from others by emphasis on certain specific teachings and practices of the Quran and the sunnah. By the ninth century the gerund form tasawwuf, literally ‘being a sufi’ or ‘sufism,’ was adopted by representatives of this group as their appropriate designation.
Understood as Islam’s life-giving core, sufism is co-extensive with Islam. Wherever there have been Muslims, there have been sufis. If there was no phenomenon called ‘sufism’ at the time of the Prophet, neither was there anything called ‘fiqh’ or ‘kalam’ in the later senses of these terms. All these are names that came to be applied to various dimensions of Islam after the tradition became diversified and elaborated. In looking for a Quranic name for the phenomenon that later generations came to call sufism, some authors settled on the term ihsan, ‘doing what is beautiful,’ a divine and human quality about which the Quran says a good deal, mentioning in particular that God loves those who possess it. In the famous Hadith of Gabriel, the Prophet describes ihsanas the innermost dimension of Islam, after Islam (‘submission’ or correct activity) and iman (“faith” or correct understanding).” [vol. 4, pp. 102-104.]
The link between Ihsan and Tasawwuf is reiterated in the English translation of Sahih Muslim by Abdul Hamid Siddiqi in a footnote to the above hadith: “Ihsan means beneficence, performance of good deeds, but in the religious sense it implies the doing of good deeds over and above what is just and fair. It is indicative of the intense devotion of man to his Creator and Master and his enthusiasm for virtue and piety. What is implied by the term tasawwuf in Islam is nothing but Ihsan. The aim of Ihsan is to create a sense of inner piety in man and to train his sensibilities in a way that all his thoughts and actions flow from the fountainhead of the love of God.” [vol. 1, pp. 3-4.]
In his work, The Cultural Atlas of Islam, Macmillan Publishing Co., New York, 1986, Professor Ismail R. al Faruqi, a modern Islamic scholar and activist, devoted a chapter to sufism. The introduction to the chapter states: “Tasawwuf, or the donning of wool, is the name given to a movement that dominated the minds and hearts of Muslims for a millennium, and is still strong in many circles of the Muslim world. It nourished their souls, purified their hearts, and fulfilled their yearning for piety, for virtue and righteousness, and for closeness to God. It grew and rapidly moved to every corner of the Muslim world. It was responsible for the conversion of millions to Islam, as well as for a number of militant states and socio-political movements.” [p.295.]
In his work, The Concise Encyclopedia of Islam, HarperCollins, New York, Cyril Glasse describes Tasawwuf as “the mysticism or esotericism of Islam.” He writes: “The word is commonly thought to come from the Arabic word suf (‘wool’): rough woolen clothing characterized the early ascetics, who preferred its symbolic simplicity to richer and more sophisticated materials. The essence of sufism is purely Islamic. Sufism is found everywhere in the Islamic world; it is the inner dimension of Islam, from which the efficacy and force of Islam as a religion flow. Historically, the sufis have been grouped into organizations calledtawa’if (sing. ta’ifah), or turuq (sing. tariqah, ‘path’), the latter word being used more commonly in the later period, from the time of the Qadiriyyah order.Tariqah is now also a technical term for esotericism itself. Turuq are congregations formed around a master, meeting for spiritual sessions (majalis), inzawiyahs, khanaqahs, or tekkes, as the meeting places are called in different countries. These spiritual meetings are described in the words attributed to the Prophet: “Whenever men gather together to invoke Allah, they are surrounded by Angels, the Divine Favor envelopes them, Peace (as-sakinah) descends upon them, and Allah remembers them in His assembly.”
Sufism may take many forms, but it always contains two poles: doctrine and method. Doctrine can be summarized as intellectual discrimination between the Real and the unreal, the basis for this being found essentially in the shahadah: “there is no god but God” or “there is no reality but the Reality.” Methods can be summarized as the concentration upon the Real by the “remembrance of God” (dhikr Allah), the invocation of the Divine Name (dhikr means “remembrance”, “mention”, “invocation”). Both doctrine and method must, however, be complemented by perfect surrender to God and the maintenance of an equilibrium through the spiritual regime, which is Islam. In scholastic terms this is a movement from potency to act – in effect to the realization of the Oneness of God (tawhid), which is the goal of sufism. The Qur’an often underlines the importance of invocation in words such as these: “Remember God standing and sitting. . .” (3:191); ” . . . Those who believe and do good works, and remember God much. . . ” (26:227); and “Surely the Remembrance of God is Greatest” (wa ladhikru-Llahi akbar) (29:45). The principle of reciprocity between God and man is expressed by God’s revealed words: “Therefore remember Me; I will remember you” (fadhkuruni adhkurum) (2:152).
All spiritual method also necessarily involves the practice of the virtues, summarized in the concept of ihsan, the surpassing of self, which a Sacred Hadith defines thus: “Worship God as if you saw Him, for if you do not see him, nevertheless, He sees you.” To this, the sufis add: “And if there were no you, you would see,’ and make the summation of mystical virtue the quality of “spiritual poverty” (faqr). By faqr they mean emptying the soul of the ego’s false “reality” in order to make way for what God wills for the soul. They seek to transform the soul’s natural passivity into re-collected wakefulness in the present, mysteriously active as symbolized by the transformation of Moses’ hand. Humility and love of one’s neighbour cut at the root of the illusion of the ego and remove those faults within the soul that are obstacles to the Divine Presence. “You will not enter paradise,” the Prophet said, “until you love one another.” The disciple should live in surroundings and in an ambience that are aesthetically and morally compatible with spiritual interiorization, in the sense that “The Kingdom of God is within you.” The need of such supports for the spiritual life can be summed up in the Hadith: “God is beautiful and He loves beauty.” [pp. 375-8]
In his Al-Maqasid, Imam Nawawi, the great Shafi’i scholar, discusses sufism at great length. His conclusions may be summarized as follows: “The basic rules of the way of sufism are five:
The foundations of all of these consist of five things:
The principles of sufism’s signs on a person are also five:
One reaches Allah Most High by
These include, among others, the following verses of the Qur’an:
Let me turn to another scholarly work of the Muslim world and the most recognized and authentic English translation of Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali: “The soul of mysticism and ecstasy is in the Quran, as well as the plain guidance for the plain man which a world in a hurry affects to consider as sufficient.” Preface to first edition of The Meaning of the Holy Quran, Abdullah Yusuf Ali, Amana Corporation, Maryland, 1991, p. xi. “Then came philosophy and the mystic doctrine of the Sufi schools. The development of the science of kalam (built on formal logic), and its further offshoot, the Ilm al-aqa’id (the philosophical exposition of the grounds of our belief) introduced further elements on the intellectual side, while ta’wil (esoteric exposition of the hidden or inner meaning) introduced elements on the spiritual side, based on a sort of transcendental intuition of the expositor. The Sufi mystics adhered to the rules of their own Orders, which were very strict. But many of the non-Sufi writers on ta’wil indulged in an amount of licence in interpretation which has rightly called forth a protest on the part of the more sober Ulama.” Commentaries on the Quran, The Meaning of the Holy Quran, Abdullah Yusuf Ali, p. xv.
The origin of sufism was also discussed by a great scholar of sufism, Ali Ibn Uthman al-Hujwiri, in his book Kashf al-Mahjub (English translation by Reynold A. Nicholson, Luzac and Company, London, 1976): “Some assert that the sufi is so called because he wears a woolen garment (jama’i suf); others that he is so called because he is in the first rank (saff-i awwal); others say it is because the sufis claim to belong to the Ashab-i Suffa, with whom may God be well-pleased! Others, again, declare that the name is derived from safa (purity).” [p. 30]. He then describes Ashab al-Suffa or Ahl al-Suffa (the People of the Veranda) in the following words: “Know that all Moslems are agreed that the Apostle had a number of Companions, who abode in his Mosque and engaged in devotion, renouncing the world and refusing to seek a livelihood. God reproached the Apostle on their account and said: ‘Do not drive away those that call on their Lord morning and evening, seeking only to gain His Face’ (Qur’an 6:52). . . . . . It is related by Ibn Abbas that the Apostle passed by the People of the Veranda, and saw their poverty and their self-mortification and said: Rejoice! for whoever of my community perseveres in the state in which you are, and is satisfied with his condition, he shall be one of my comrades in Paradise.’ [p. 81]. The Ahl al-Suffa included, among others, Bilal ibn al-Rabah, Salman al-Farisi, Abu Ubayda ibn al-Jarrah, Abu Dharr al-Ghifari, Khabbab ibn al-Aratt, Abdullah ibn Umar, and Abdullah ibn Masud (RadiyaíLlahu anhum)” [p. 81].
No discussion of Tasawwuf would be complete without mentioning the work of Imam al-Ghazzali. In his essay on Abu Hamid al-Ghazzali in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Modern Islamic World, Professor Muntansir Mir writes: “. . . Abu Hamid al-Ghazzali, medieval Muslim theologian, jurist, and mystic. Few individuals in the intellectual history of Islam have exerted influence as powerful and varied as did Abu Hamid al-Ghazzali. When he died at the age of fifty-two, he had attempted, with an exceptionally perspicacious mind and a powerful pen, a grand synthesis of the Islamic sciences that has ever since evoked the wonder and admiration of scholars, both Muslims and non-Muslims. He gained distinction in the court of the Seljuk vizier Nizam al-Mulk, and at the age of thirty-four he was appointed professor at the Nizamiyah College at Baghdad. After teaching there for several years, al-Ghazzali suffered a crisis of confidence. Losing faith in the efficacy and purpose of the learning he has acquired and was now disseminating, he searched for the truth and certitude that alone could set his moral doubt at rest. He left his position at the Nizamiyah, withdrew from practical life, and spent eleven years in travel, meditation, and reflection. When he returned he had found the object of his search – in sufism. The details of al-Ghazzali’s quest for knowledge that would give certitude are found in his autobiography, Al-munqidh min al-dalal (Deliverer from Error). Al-Ghazzali tells us that, of the four groups of people who claimed to be in possession of the truth, only the sufis, who walked the right path, because they combined knowledge with action, had sincerity of purpose, and actually experienced the serenity and contentment that comes from direct illumination of the heart by God.
Al-Ghazzali’s critique of the philosophers, the esotericists, and the theologians constituted the critical aspect of his work, but there is a constructive aspect to it also; in fact the two aspects are closely linked. In a sense the principal motif of all al-Ghazzali’s work is spiritualization of religious thought and practice; form must be imbued with spirit, and law and ritual with ethical vision. Taking salvation in the hereafter as the final goal, and therefore the ultimate point of reference, he set out to identify and analyze the aids and impediments to that goal. This resulted in his best-known work, Ihya ulum al-Din, an attempt to integrate the major disciplines of Islamic religion – theology and law, ethics and mysticism. Here as in other works, al-Ghazzali seeks to demystify Islam. He maintains, for example, that in order to be a Muslim it is sufficient to hold the beliefs that have been laid down by God and his Prophet in the Quran and sunnah, and that knowledge of the complex arguments advanced by the theologians is not requisite of faith. The essence of religion is experience, not mere profession, and the sufis are the ones who are able to experience the realities that theologians only talk about. [vol. 2, pp. 61-63].
Recently one of the leading Muslim journals in US, the American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences, [a joint publication of the Association of Muslim Social Scientists (AMSS) and the International Institute of Islamic Thought (IIIT)], vol. 12, no. 4, Winter 1995, published a paper titled “Al Ghazali between Philosophy and Sufism” [authored by Professor Yasin Ceylan]. The author describes al Ghazali’s experience with sufism in these words: “Al Ghazali embarked on his investigation of four different schools of thought that were influential in his time – Batinism, theology, philosophy, and Sufism – in order to find truth in them. The first three did not satisfy him, while Sufism provided him the truth for which he had been searching. There have always been notable Sufis of varied backgrounds throughout the history of Islamic thought. Whereas most of them received the traditional education, some had so much interest in logic and philosophy that they pursued these fields in depth. However, none of them penetrated into these sciences as far as al Ghazali, who acquired an intimate knowledge of both philosophy and theology. Al Ghazali himself discloses why he was frustrated by philosophy in his quest for truth and why he choose to adopt Sufism instead. His account may be summed up as follows: His disillusionment with philosophy was derived from its destructive effect on the fundamentals of religion, while his attraction to Sufism was rooted in the fact that ethical refinement and the purification of the soul were necessary conditions in this discipline.” [p. 584] “Al Ghazali mentions three fundamental features related to his mystical experience: a) the purification of the soul from those evils and worldly desires that hinder moral perfection; b) those spiritual dispositions or explorations that occur after the process of purification reaches the level of maturity (described as extraordinary intellectual intuitions); and c) that these dispositions are not explicable through reason.” [p. 587]
In his work, The Cultural Atlas of Islam, Professor Ismail R. al Faruqi writes, “Reaffirming his view that Tasawwuf is both knowledge and action, al-Ghazali chastised those who sought to reach the mystical experience in a hurry. He also rejected the sufi claim that in the mystical experience one reaches God through fusion into or unity with the divine Being. Such a claim he regarded as blasphemous. The true perception of God is always perception of the presence of the transcendent as a commanding being; knowledge of Him is never a knowledge of His self but of His will. Al-Ghazali therefore could not countenance the preaching of Mansur al Hallaj who went about Baghdad claiming that through the mystical experience he and God had become one. By reaffirming that Islam implies action, al-Ghazali meant to repudiate those sufis who preached monkery and withdrawal from society, any form of asceticism or mortification, or nonobligation to observe the rituals and all other laws of the shariah. Al-Ghazali thus made Tasawwuf respectable and conformant with the shariah and spirit of Islam.
Thus al-Ghazali built his system on God as starting point and foundation, unlike the philosophers who started with senses or reason. He anchored reason in iman, whence it drew its ultimate postulates; and then gave it the freedom to be as critical as it wished. Without such anchoring, reason is fallible and untrustworthy. God is knowable through His works, His order and design of nature, His ubiquitous providence – all of which reason is capable of discerning in tentative but not definitive form. Between God and the world stands the realm of malakut and amr, by which al-Ghazali meant the realm of values constituting the ought of all that is or will be, a realm that is absolute, a priori and transcendent (malakut), as well as normative and imperative (amr). Knowledge of it is yaqin (apodeictic certainty) and such knowledge is the ground of all other knowledge. Al-Ghazali, we may concede, taught the primacy of axiological knowledge, which relates man to God, over the knowledge of the world, which would be faulty and groundless without the first.” [pp. 300-1]
Contrary to beliefs often held in the West, to set out on the path of sufism it is absolutely necessary to be a Muslim, for sufism’s methods are inoperative without this religious affiliation, and may even prove destructive to the individual who lack the protective and normative devotion of the religion of Islam, which is its vehicle. Ahmad Zarruq, the fifteenth century Maliki scholar and hadith specialist, states: “So there is no sufism except through comprehension of Sacred Law or Shariah, for the outward rules of Allah Most High are not known save through it, and there is no comprehension of Sacred Law or Shariah without sufism, for works are nothing without the sincerity of approach, as expressed by the words of Imam Malik (Allah have mercy on him): ‘He who practices sufism without learning Sacred Law or Shariah corrupts his faith, while he who learns Sacred Law or Shariah without practicing sufism corrupts himself. Only he who combines the two proves true.'” (Iqaz al-himam fi sharh al-Hikam, Ibn Ajiba, Ahmad ibn Muhammad, and Ahmad ibn Muhammad Ibn Ata Illah, Mustafa al-Babi al-Halabi wa Awladuhu, Cairo, 1972, pp. 5-6).
Sayyid Abul Ala Maududi, one of the most influential and prolific of contemporary Muslim scholars, echoed the same view. In his seminal introduction to Islam, Risalah-yi Diniyat (later translated as Towards Understanding Islam, Khurshid Ahmad, The Islamic Foundation, U. K., 1980 and The Message Publications, Islamic Circles of North America [ICNA], New York, 1986), he defined Shariah as “the detailed code of conduct or the canons comprising ways and modes of worship, standards of morals and life, laws that permit and prohibit and rules that judge between right and wrong.” [p. 95] He then explained how Fiqh and Tasawwuf complement each other in Shariah. He writes: “Fiqh deals with the apparent and the observable conduct, the fulfilling of a duty in practice. The field which concerns itself with the spirit of conduct is known as Tasawwuf. For example, when we perform salat, Fiqh will judge us only by the fulfillment of physical requirements such as cleansing, facing towards the Kabah and the timing and the number of rakaahs. Tasawwuf, on the other hand, will judge our prayers by our concentration, devotion, purification of our souls and the effect of our prayers on our morals and manners. Thus, the true Islamic Tasawwuf is the measure of our spirit of our obedience and sincerity, while Fiqh governs our carrying out commands to the last detail. An Ibadahdevoid of spirit, though correct in procedure, is like a man handsome in appearance but defective in character and an Ibadah full of spirit but defective in execution is like a man noble in character but deformed in appearance. The above example makes clear the relation between Fiqh and Tasawwuf. Tasawwuf, in the true sense, is an intense love of Allah and Muhammad (blessings of Allah and piece be upon him) and such love requires a strict obedience to their commands as embodied in the Book of God and the Sunnah of His Prophet. Anyone who deviates from the divine commands makes a false claim of his love for Allah and His messenger.” [p. 97]
This point was further emphasized by Professor Muhammad Abul Qasim in his book, Salvation of the Soul and Islamic Devotions, Kegan Paul International, London, 1983. He succinctly summed up the mutual relation of Islamic jurisprudence (fiqh) and sufism. He writes: “The Quran teaches that the means to salvation in the Hereafter on the human side are belief or faith (iman) and action (amal): salvation cannot be achieved without these two means. Both of them are mentioned in most of the verses of the Quran containing references to salvation; in a few verses, however, only faith is mentioned explicitly, but action is implicit in them. That faith and action are the requirements of salvation on the human side is also the teaching of the prophetic tradition which is but an elaboration of what is briefly taught by the Quran. The prophetic tradition presents us with details of faith and action as means to salvation. Closely following this teaching of the Quran and Tradition, Islamic jurisprudence, theology and sufism have unanimously agreed that faith and action are the only two means to salvation. In working out the details of these means, however, they differ slightly among themselves. Thus jurisprudence accepts the outward meanings of the teachings of the Quran and Tradition, without feeling the need to explore their deep, inward meanings. Sufism, in addition to outward meanings, looks for inward meanings; it also adds material learnt from experience but not inconsistent with the Quranic teachings.” [p. 29]
“Sufis put a great emphasis upon the Quranic teaching that faith and action are both needed if a man is to ascend from the rank of lower animals to that of those who behold the beauty of the glorious face of God.” [p. 30] “Islam is a religion which enjoins moderation or the mean state of all affairs. In Islam there is place neither for too much of hardship nor for too much of lavishness, neither for excess nor for deficiency. Moderation is considered by Islam to be the most reasonable course of action and to enable man to achieve that at which the Islamic religion aims. A man has an outward aspect and an inward aspect, and moderation is to be observed in relation to both. His outward aspect is mainly the concern of Islamic law (fiqh) and hence in this field one often finds the prescription of moderation and middle course. The inward aspect of a man is mainly dealt with in sufism and Islamic philosophy and hence in these two discipline also we find that moderation or the mean is taught emphatically.” [Footnote no. 14, p. 54]
In fact, true sufis perform obligatory prayers and other duties (fard) which the Shariah has placed on them, and observe the sunnah of the Prophet (sallallahu alaihi wa sallam) which he has recommended. They never think that they can any time dispense with the Shariah. Those who violate the Shariah and commit sins are rather impostors, who use sufism to justify their evil deeds. There is general agreement among sufis that the only way to know what things are legal or illegal, and what acts are right or wrong is the Quran, the Sunnah of the Prophet (sallallahu alaihi wa sallam), the ijtihad of qualified jurists (mujtahidin), and their consensus (ijma). These are also the means for knowing the degrees of obligation, whether a thing is obligatory (fard/wajib) or forbidden (haram), commendable (mandub), undesirable (makruh), or permissible (mubah). The inspiration (ilham) or the kashf of the sufi has no rule in this regard, neither in determining the legality or otherwise of things, nor in fixing the degree of their obligation. Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi, the great seventeenth century Indian sufi and religious reformer, states the common view in the clearest terms: ìIt is commonly agreed that in determining the rules (ahkam) of the Shariah, what counts is the Quran, the Sunnah of the Prophet, the qiyas of a qualified jurist (mujtahid) and the consensus of the Ummah. No other principle apart from these four is to be taken into consideration to determine the legality of rules. Inspiration (ilham) does not determine whether something is right or wrong, and the kashf of a sufi does not establish the degree of a rule, whether it is obligatory or desirable. The saints (awliya) have to follow, like an ordinary Muslim, the opinions of the mujtahids. Their revelations (kushuf) and inspirations (ilhamat) do not elevate their status and relieve them from following the judgments of the jurists (fuqaha). . . . They have to follow the judgments of the jurists (mujtahidin) in matters of ijtihad.’ [Maktubat Iman Rabbani, vol. II, p. 1041]. In the above statement, Sirhindi uses the term waliyat in the sense of nearness and intimacy with Allah Subhanahu Wa Ta’ala.
This vital Islamic science of sufism has been consistently expounded by the greater Muslim scholars of all time. The overwhelming majority of the Muslim scholars were actively involved in sufism. In fact, almost all the great luminaries of medieval Islam: al-Suyuti, Ibn Hajar al-‘Asqalani, al-‘Ayni, Ibn Khaldun, al-Subki, Ibn Hajar al-Haytami; tafseer writers like al-Baydawi, al-Sawi, Abu’l-Su’ud, al-Baghawi, and Ibn Kathir, aqidah writers such as Taftazani, al-Nafasi, al-Razi: all wrote in support of sufism. Ibn Khaldun, Muslim statesman, jurist, historian, and scholar of the fourteenth century, devoted a long section of in his monumental work, al-Muqaddimah, to discuss the science of sufism. He writes: “Sufism belongs to the sciences of religious law that originated in Islam. It is based on the assumption that the practices of its adherents had always been considered by the important early Muslims, the men around Muhammad (sallallahu alaihi wa sallam) and the men of the second generation, as well as those who came after them, as the path of true and right guidance. The sufi approach is based upon constant application to divine worship, complete devotion to God, aversion to false splendor of the world, abstinence from the pleasure, property, and position to which great mass aspires, and the retirement from the world into solitude for divine worship. These things were general among the men around Muhammad (sallallahu alaihi wa sallam) and the early Muslims. Then, worldly aspirations increased in the second (eighth) century and after. At that time, the special name of sufis (Sufiyah and Mutasawwifah) was given to those who aspired to divine worship.
The sufis came to represent asceticism, retirement from the world, and devotion to divine worship. They developed a particular kind of perception which comes about through ecstatic experience. When the sciences were written down systematically and when the jurists wrote works on jurisprudence and the principles of jurisprudence, on speculative theology, Quran interpretation, and other subjects, the sufis, too, wrote on their subject. Some sufis wrote on the laws governing asceticism and self-scrutiny, how to act and not act in imitation of model (saints). Al-Ghazzali, in the Ihya ulum al-Din, dealt systematically with the laws governing asceticism and the imitation of models. Then, he explained the behavior and customs of the sufis and commented on their technical vocabulary. Thus, the science of sufism became a systematically treated discipline in Islam. Before that, mysticism had merely consisted of divine worship, and its laws had existed in the breasts of men. The same had been the case with all other disciplines, Quran interpretation, the science of tradition, jurisprudence, the principles of jurisprudence, and other disciplines.” Ibn Khaldun’s al-Muqaddimah, translated from the Arabic into English by Franz Rosenthal, 3 Vols., Princeton University Press, Princeton, N. J., 1967 [vol. 3, pp. 76-81].
Even Shaykh Ibn Taymiyah and his theological successors, Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab, the founder of Wahhabisim, and Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyya, could not at their time avoid being associated at one point with sufi tariqah. In his book, “Natural Healing with the Medicine of the Prophet,” (English translation of Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyya’s Tibb an-Nabbi), Pearl Publishing House, Philadelphia, 1993, the translator, Muhammad al-Akili, writes: “Later on, he (Ibn al-Qayyim) pursued his quest for knowledge at the hands of renowned masters and scholars of his epoch, as well as he studied the works and teachings of sufi masters known in his time.” [p. xi] “He (Ibn al-Qayyim) compiled a large number of studies besides his own books, including: 1. Tahthib Sunan Abi Dawoud (Emendation of Sunan Abi Dawoud); 2. Al-Kalam al-Tayyib wa-al-‘Amal al-Salih (The Essence of Good Works and Deeds); 3. Commentaries on the book of Shaikh Abdullah al-Ansari: Manazil-u Sa’ireen (Stations of the Seekers), which is considered the epitome of knowledge of sufi books; and Zad al-Ma’ad (Provisions of the Hereafter).’ [p. xiii]
Ibn Taymiyah’s views on Tasawwuf have been discussed in greater detail in the book titled “Sufism and Shariah : A Study of Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi’s Effort to Reform Sufism” by Dr. Muhammad Abdul Haq Ansari, The Islamic Foundation, U. K., 1986. Dr. Ansari quoted from three well-known works of Ibn Taymiyah, Majmu Fatawa Shaykh al-Islam, compiled by Abd al-Rahman b. Qasim and his son Muhammad, Riyadh, 1398 A. H, 39 vols., Majmu’at al-Rasa’il wa ël-Masa’il, compiled by Rashid Rida, Cairo, 4 parts in 2 vols., and Al-Furqan bayn Awliya Allah wa Awliya’ al-Shaytan, edited by M. Abd al-Wahhab Fa’ir, Beirut, Dar ël-Fikr. Dr. Ansari writes “The popular image of Shaykh Ibn Taymiyah, which early Western writers on Islam in modern times have considerably helped to build up, is that he criticizes sufism indiscriminately, is totally against the sufis, and sees no place for sufism in Islam. Nothing of this, however, is correct. Ibn Taymiyah, to be sure, is a most thorough and most incisive critic of sufism; and his criticism is not limited to a few philosophical doctrines or some popular practices, as some writers have held, but covers the entire field of sufi thought and life. But he is certainly not indiscriminate; at times, he is bitter, but on the whole sympathetic. And far from saying that sufism has no place in Islam, he moves to define the perimeters of an Islamic sufism. Ibn Taymiyah’s general attitude to sufism is disclosed in this passage: ‘Some people accept everything of sufism, what is right as well as what is wrong; others reject it totally, both what is wrong and what is right, as some scholars of kalam and fiqh do. The right attitude towards sufism, or any other thing, is to accept what is in agreement with the Quran and the Sunnah, and reject what does not agree'” [Majmu Fatawa Shaykh al-Islam, vol. 10, p. 82].
Ibn Taymiyah applies this principle of judicious criticism to sufi ideas, practices and personalities. He divides the sufis into three categories. In the first category of sufis whom he calls mashaikh al-Islam, mashaikh al-Kitab wa al-Sunnah and a’immat al-huda, [Majmu’at al-Rasa’il wa al-Masa’il, vol. 1, p. 179, and Majmu Fatawa Shaykh al-Islam, vol. 10, pp. 516-7 and vol. 11, p. 233] he mentions Fudayl b. Iyad, Ibrahim b. Adham, Shaqiq al-Balkhi, Abu Sulayman al-Darani, Maruf al-Karkhi, Bishr ëa-Hafi, Sari al-Saqati, al-Junayd b. Muhammad, Sahl b. Abd Allah al-Tustari and Amr b. Uthman al-Makki. Later sufis whom he places in this category are: Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani, Shaykh Hammad al-Dabbas, and Shaykh Abu al-Bayan. These sufis, Ibn Taymiyah says, were never intoxicated, did not lose their sense of discrimination, or said or did anything against the Quran and the Sunnah. Their lives and experiences conformed with the Shariah (mustaqim al-ahwal) [Majmu Fatawa Shaykh al-Islam, vol. 10, pp. 516-7].
The second category consists of those sufis whose experience of fana and intoxication (sukr) weakened their sense of discrimination, and made them utter words that they later realized to be erroneous when they became sober [Majmu Fatawa Shaykh ël-Islam, vol. 10, pp. 220-1]. Some of them also did things [Majmu Fatawa Shaykh ël-Islam, vol. 10, pp. 382, 557] under intoxication of which the Shariah does not approve, but sooner or later they became sober and lived well. In this category Ibn Taymiyah mentions the names of Abu Yazid al-Bostami, Abu al-Husayn al-Nuri and Abu Bakr al-Shibli. But he neither censures their experience of fana and sukr, nor condemns what they said or did in that state. Instead, he offers apology for them on the ground that they were intoxicated (sukran), and had lost control over reason. [Majmu’at ël-Rasa’il wa ël-Masa’il, vol. 1, p. 168; Majmu Fatawa Shaykh ël-Islam, vol. 10, pp. 382, 557].
His criticism is directed to the third category of sufis who have believed in ideas and expounded doctrines which contradict Islamic principles, or who have indulged in practices which are condemned by the Shariah. The first sufi in this group is al-Hallaj [Majmu’at ël-Rasa’il wa ël-Masa’il, vol. 1, pp. 81, 83;Majmu Fatawa Shaykh ël-Islam, vol. 11, p. 18]. . . . Next to al-Hallaj, the sufis who draw strong criticism from Ibn Taymiyah are the ones who expound the doctrine of One Being (wahdat al-wujud), such as Ibn ël-Arabi, Sadr ël-Din ël-Qunawi, Ibn Sab’in and Tilimsani. . . . . Ibn ël-Arabi, who is the central figure in this context (of wahdat ël-wujud ), Ibn Taymiyah subjects him to detailed criticism. He is, however, fair to recognize that of all the exponents of wahdat ël-wujud he is closer to Islam, that many of his ideas are correct, that he distinguishes between the Manifest (al-Zahir) and the objects of manifestation (mazahir), and accepts the commands and the prohibitions (of the Shar’) and other principles as they are. He recommends many things in suluk which sufi leaders have prescribed concerning good behavior and devotion. This is why a number of people draw upon his writings in their suluk and benefit from them, even though they do not know their real import. [Majmu’at ël-Rasa’il wa ël-Masa’il, vol. 1, p. 176]
Ibn Taymiyah does not oppose the tariqah of the sufis as such, neither their concentration on some approved ways, nor adoption of new ones, provided they do not fall into the category of unauthorized innovation (bid’at). He does not object, for instance, to the experience of fana and union; what he requires is that one should not make it the goal of sufism, or entertain mistaken ideas about it. He would not object to intensification of some approved forms of dhikr, or reliance on some methods for purifying the soul, with the neglect of others, provided it is within the limits of the Shariah [Majmu’at ël-Rasa’il wa ël-Masa’il, vol. 4, pp. 86-87]. A sufi may, for instance, withdrew temporarily to a cloister (khalwah) [Majmu’at ël-Rasa’il wa ël-Masa’il, vol. 4, pp. 84-6, 92-3], provided he observes the salat in assembly and the Friday prayer, and renders his essential obligations. Ibn Taymiyah would insist that these practices should not change or alter the values of things which the Shariah normally attaches to them [Majmu Fatawa Shaykh ël-Islam, vol. 11, pp. 398-400]. “There is no way to God”, he says, “except following the Prophet externally and internally” [Al-Furqan bayn Awliya Allah wa Awliya’ ël-Shaytan, p. 145].
It is worthwhile to note that Al-Hallaj was executed in Baghdad in 922 for saying “Ana al-Haqq” (“I am the Truth,” i.e., God), and his former teacher, al-Junayd, was among those who gave the verdict that he should die. [See Abu Abd al-Rahman al-Sulami, in Tabakat al-Sufiyya, Edited by Nur al-Din Shariba, Maktaba al-Khanji, Cairo, 1986, pp. 307-8, for details.]
It is proper to discuss how Tasawwuf played a significant role in shaping two Islamic movements – the Muslim Brotherhood (al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun) and the Tablighi Jamaat. In his essay on Muslim Brotherhood in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Modern Islamic World,, Professor Nazih N. Ayubi wrote: ìFounded in Ismailiyah, Egypt, in 1928 by Hasan al-Banna (1906-1949), the Muslim Brotherhood (al-Ikhwan al-Muslimun) is the parent body and the main source of inspiration for many Islamist organizations in Egypt and several other Arab countries, including Syria, Sudan, Jordan, Kuwait, Yemen, and some north African states.’ [vol. 3, pp. 183-7]
In his essay on Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Modern Islamic World, Professor Denis J. Sullivan writes: ìHasan al-Banna was born in October 1906 in Buhayrah Province, northeast of Cairo. His father was imam and teacher at the local mosque. By his early teen years, al-Banna was committed to sufism, teaching, organizing for the cause of Islam, nationalism, and activism. As an organizer, he worked with various societies. At the age of twelve, in his hometown of Mahmudiyah, he became the leader of the Society for Moral Behavior and soon thereafter, a member of the Hasafiyah sufi order. At age thirteen, he was named secretary of the Hasafiyah Society for Charity, whose goals were to preserve Islamic morality and resist Christian missionaries. Ahmed al-Sukhari, head of the order, later helped al-Banna develop the idea of the Ikhwan. Combined with the extracurricular influences of sufism, the thought of Muhammad Rashid Rida and the Salafiyah movement, nationalism, and his father’s instruction, al-Banna developed a diverse intellectual basis for his own mission.’ [vol. 3, pp. 187-191]
ìAl-Banna was involved with the tariqah (of sufi shaykh, Hasanayn al-Hasafi) for twenty years and maintained a respect for this strict style of sufism throughout his life. It appears to have influenced his organizational thinking in terms of the methods of instruction in his Muslim Brotherhood and the daily rituals required of its members.’ [vol. 4, p. 115]
In his essay on Tablighi Jamaat in The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Modern Islamic World, Professor Mumtaz Ahmad, writes: ìThe Tablighi Jamaat of the Indo-Pakistan subcontinent, also variously called the Jamaat (Party), Tahrik (Movement), Nizam (System), Tanzim (Organization), and Tahrik-i Iman (Faith Movement), is one of the most important grassroots Islamic movements in the contemporary Muslim world. From a modest beginning in 1926 with dawah (missionary) work in Mewat near Delhi under the leadership of the sufi scholar Maulana Muhammad Ilyas (1885-1944), the Jamaat today has followers all over the Muslim world and the West. Its 1993 annual international conference in Raiwind near Lahore, Pakistan, was attended by more than one million Muslims from ninety-four countries. In fact, in recent years the Raiwind annual conference has become the second largest religious congregation of the Muslim world after the Hajj.
The pietistic and developmental aspects of the Tablighi Jamaat owe their origin to the sufi teachings and practices of Shaykh Ahmed Sirhindi, Shah Wali Allah, and the founder of the Mujahidin movement, Sayyid Ahmad Shahid (1786-1831). These sufis, who belonged to the Naqshbandiyah order, considered the observance of the Shariah integral to their practices. It is in this sense that the Tablighi Jamaat has been described, at in its initial phase, both as a reinvigorated form of Islamic orthodoxy and as a reformed sufism. Maulana Ilyas, an Islamic religious scholar in the tradition of the orthodox Deoband seminary in the United Province and a follower of the Naqshbandiyah, . . . . .
In matters of religious beliefs and practices, the Tablighi Jamaat has consistently followed the orthodox Deoband tradition and has emphasized taqlid (following the established schools of Islamic law) over ijtihad (independent reasoning). It rejects such popular expressions of religions as veneration of saints, visiting shrines, and observing the syncretic rituals associated with popular sufism. The Jamaat can thus be considered an heir to the reformist-fundamentalist tradition of Shah Wali Allah, with its emphasis on reformed sufism and strict observation of the sunnah of the Prophet.’ [vol. 4, pp. 165-169]
In his book, The Faith Movement of Mawlana Muhammad Ilyas, George Allen and Unwin Ltd., London, 1972, M. Anwarul Haq dwelt a great deal on the life, work, and thought of Maulana Muhammad Ilyas, with an exclusive focus on the sufi origin of his movement. More evidence on the link between Tasawwuf and Tablighi Jamaat can be found in ìFaza’il-e-A’maal,’ Muhammad Zakariya, Waterval Islamic Institute, Johannesburg, South Africa, 1994. Faza’il-e-A’maal, a revised edition of Tablighi Nisab (Islamic Teachings), is a collection of treatises by a scholar of hadith (Shaikhul Hadith), patron, and close relative of the founder of the Tablighi Jamaat, Maulana Muhammad Ilyas. The book is part of the instruction readings of the Jamaat. I will present a few excerpts from this book: ìRequisites of good salaat suggested by sufis: The sufis write: There are twelve thousand virtues in salaat, which can be achieved through twelve points. If a person is to acquire full benefit from salaat, then, he must take care of these points. Sincerity is of course essential at every step. These points are as follows: 1. knowledge, 2. Wudhu, 3. Dress, 4. Time, 5. Qiblah, 6. Intention, 7. Takbeer Tahreemah, 8. Qiyaam, 9. Qiraat, 10. Ruku, 11. Sajdah, and 12. Qadah.’ [pp. 95-97] Salaat of few Sahaabah, Taabiees and sufis:’ [pp. 98-103] ìAn Important Note: According to the sufis, salaat is in fact a supplication to and speech with Allah, and therefore needs through concentration.’ [p. 103]
With all this, we observe a contradiction. Why is it, if sufism has been so respected a part of Muslim intellectual and political life throughout our history that there are, nowadays, angry voices raised against it? Apparently there are two reasons. First, there have been deviant manifestations of true devotional sufism. In his work, The Concise Encyclopedia of Islam, Cyril Glasse describes this issue as follows: ìAn offshoot of popular devotional sufism seeks reassurance above all in psychic phenomena, communication with spirits, or jinn, trance dancing, magic, prodigies such as eating glass, piercing the body with knives, and so forth. In psychic powers and extraordinary mental states it finds proofs of spiritual attainment. It has given rise to the European use of the word fakir (which comes from the word for an authentic sufi disciple, a dervish, or faqir, literally a ìpoor one’) to mean a market-place magician or performer, and has attained notoriety not only among Western observers, but also in Islamic societies.’ [p. 380]
ëAbd al-Karim Jili, the fourteenth century scholar of Sacred Law or Shariah, describes such an experience: ìMy brother, Allah have mercy on you, I have traveled to the remotest cities and dealt with all types of people, but never has my eye seen, nor ear heard of, nor is there any uglier or farther from presence of Allah Most High than a certain group who pretend they are accomplished sufis, claiming for themselves a lineal spiritual tradition from the perfected ones and appearing in their guise, while they do not believe in Allah, His messengers, or the Last Day, and do not comply with the responsibilities of the Sacred Law or Shariah, depicting the states of the prophets and their messages in a manner that no one with a particle of faith in his heart can accept, let alone someone who has reached the level of those to whom the unseen is disclosed and who have gnostic insight. We have seen a great number of their luminaries in cities in Azerbaijan, Shirwan, Jilan, and Khurasan, may Allah curse them all.’ (Idah al-maqsud min wahdat al-wujud, ëAbd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi, Matba’a al-‘Alam, Damascus, 1969, pp. 17-18).
Second, there is the emergence of what is known as ìfolk’ sufism. Some people are baffled by the dress, terminology, or demeanor of the sufis. They imitate the sincere sufis externally without experiencing spiritual struggle or self-discipline. Rather, they pounce upon and quarrel over wealth that is unlawful, doubtful, or from rulers, rending each other’s honor whenever they are at cross-purposes. In his Concise Encyclopedia of Islam, Cyril Glasse describes it and contrasts it with true devotional sufism in the following words: ìMetaphysical’ sufism, as taught by the great spiritual masters, is different from ìfolk’ sufism. In some countries hundreds of thousands of disciples have at times been attached to a single master, more than could possibly have had a true vocation for an integral spiritual path. A kind of sufism has evolved which reflects a popular idea of spirituality. As happens in every civilization, this popular spirituality confuses piety (augmented by great zeal and a multiplication of ritual practices) with pure spiritual intuition and lustral, transcendent knowledge. Needless to say, folklore hawked as the ìwisdom of idiots’ may be exactly that, but it has nothing to do with sufism of any kind, nor is it a ìself-development’ divorced from its religious framework. Metaphysical, or true, sufism is a spiritual way at the heart of Islam. Its starting point is discrimination between the Real and the unreal, its method is concentration upon the Real, and its goal is the Real. In the words of a Sacred Hadith: ìMy servant does not cease to approach Me with acts of devotion, until I become the foot with which he walks, the hands with which he grasps, and the eye with which he sees.’ Bayazid al-Bistami said: ìFor thirty years I went in search of God, and when I opened my eyes at the end of this time, I discovered that it was really He who sought me.’ [p. 380]
The rightly guided sufis very strongly oppose and condemn practices such as excessive veneration of saints, calling upon saints for aid or protection, praying to saints, annual celebrations and feasts at the grave of a saint (ëurs), and observing the syncretic rituals. It is stressed that the excessive veneration of a saint would probably lead to the worship of something other than Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala – to polytheism or associating partners with Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala (shirk) and that showy attractions during feasts are definitely contrary to shariah and should therefore be prohibited. A person who prays to a saint is probably attributing to the saint powers that should only be attributed to Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala. Professor William C. Chittick writes, ìAlthough the great sufi authorities set down many guidelines for keeping sufism squarely at the heart of the Islamic tradition, popular religious movements that aimed at intensifying religious experience and had little concern for Islamic norms were also associated with sufism. Whether or not the members of these movements considered themselves sufis, opponents of sufism were happy to claim that their excesses represented sufism’s true nature. The sufi authorities themselves frequently criticized false sufis.’ [The Oxford Encyclopedia of the Modern Islamic World, vol. 4, p. 104]. It is noteworthy that more recently hundreds of volumes have been published in the West on sufism and most of these were written by people who have ìadopted’ sufism to justify teachings of questionable origin, or who have left the safeguards of right practice and right thought – Islam and iman – and hence have no access to the ihsan that is built upon the two.
Scholars have strong warning for these pretenders to sufism. Imam Ghazali says: ìWhen anyone claims there is a state between him and Allah relieving him of the need to obey the Sacred Law or Shariah such that the prayer, fasting, and so forth are not obligatory for him, or that drinking wine and taking other people’s money are permissible for him – as some pretenders to sufism, namely those ìabove the Sacred Law or Shariah’ (ibahiyyun) have claimed – there is no doubt that the imam of the Muslims or his representative is obliged to kill him. Some hold that executing such a person is better in Allah’s sight than killing a hundred unbelievers in the path of Allah Most High.’ (Hashiya al-Shaykh Ibrahim al-Bajuri, Dar al-Fikr, Beirut, 1925, Abu Shuja’ al-Asfahani, Ahmad ibn al-Husayn, Ibrahim ibn Muhammad al-Bajuri, and Muhammad ibn Qasim al-Ghazzi, Dar al-Fikr, Beirut, 1925, vol. 2, p. 267).
ëIzz ibn ëAbd al-Salam, a Shafi’i scholar and mujtahid Imam, writes: ìIf one sees someone who can fly through the air, walk on water, or inform one of the unseen, but who contravenes the Sacred Law or Shariah by committing an unlawful act without an extenuating circumstance that legally excuses it, or who neglects an obligatory act without lawful reason, one may know that such a person is a devil Allah has placed there as a temptation to the ignorant. Nor is it far-fetched that such a person should be one of the means by which Allah chooses to lead men astray, for the Antichrist (al-Dajjal) will bring the dead to life and make the living die, all as a temptation and affliction to those who would be misled (al-Iman al-‘Izz ibn Abd al-Salam wa atharuhu fi al-fiqh al-Islami, Ali Mustafa al-Faqir, Mudiriyya al-Ifta’ li al-Quwat al-Musallaha al-Uduniyya, Amman, 1979, vol. 1, p. 137). Al-Junayd, ìthe master of all the sufis’ (Shaykh al-ta’ifah) was once told, ìThere is a group who claim they arrive to a state in which legal responsibility (such as salaat, siyam) no longer applies to them.’ ìThey have arrived,’ he replied, ìbut to hell’ (Iqaz al-himam fi sharh al-Hikam, Ibn Ajiba, Ahmad ibn Muhammad, and Ahmad ibn Muhammad Ibn Ata Illah, Mustafa al-Babi al-Halabi wa Awladuhu, Cairo, 1972, p. 210).
Sayyid Abul Ala Maududi reiterates the same view : ‘It is the misfortune of the Muslims that as they sank in knowledge and character with the passage of time, they also succumbed to the misguided philosophies of nations which were then dominant. They partook of these philosophies and patched Islam with their perverted ideas. They polluted the pure spirit of Islamic Tasawwuf with absurdities that could not be justified by any stretch of imagination on the basis of the Quran and the Hadith. Gradually, a group of Muslims appeared who thought and proclaimed themselves immune to and above the requirements of the Shariah. These people are totally ignorant of Islam, for Islam cannot admit of Tasawwuf that loosens itself out of the Shariah and takes liberties with it. No Sufi has the right to transgress the limits of the Shariah or treat lightly the primary obligations (Faraid) such as daily prayers, fasting, zakah and the hajj.’ [Towards Understanding Islam, p. 97]
I have stated views of scholars on sufism as faithfully as I could. These opinions of scholars are a real testimony to the Islamic character of the sufism. I hope that this presentation will remove many wrong notions that people have about sufism. It will not be difficult now for anyone to see that sufism, properly conceived, has a rightful place in Islam. And Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala knows best. I ask Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala for His forgiveness. May Allah Subhanahu wa Ta’ala guide us all to what is correct and pleasing to Him. Aameen!
You must be of good counsel to all Muslims. The highest point of this is that you conceal nothing from them which if made known would result in good or preserve from something evil. The prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) has said, “Religion is good counsel” Part of this is to support a Muslim in his absence as you would in his presence, and not to give him more verbal signs of affection than you have for him in your heart. It is also part of this that when a muslim asks you for advice, and you know that the correct course does not lie in that which he is inclined to do, you should tell him so. The absence of good counsel is indicated by the presence of envy of the favors God has given other Muslims. The origin of such envy is that you find it intolerable that God has granted one of His servants a good thing whether of the religion, or of the world. The utmost limit is to wish that he be deprived of it. It has been handed down that “envy consumes good deeds just as fire consumes dry wood”. The envious man is objecting to God’s management of His dominion, as if to say “O Lord! You have put your favours where they do not belong.”
It is permitted to be envious without rancour whereby when you see a favor being bestowed on one of His servants, you ask Him to grant you the like.
When someone praises you, you must feel dislike for his praises within your heart. If he has praised you for something you truly possess, say: “praise belongs to God who has revealed the good things and hidden the ugly things.” And if he praises you for something you do not possess, say “O God! Do not call me to account for what they say, forgive me what they do not know, and make me better than they think.”
In your case, do not praise anyone unneccesarily.
When you wish to give advice to someone regarding any behaviour of his that you have come to know about, be gentle, talk to him in private and do not express explicitly what may be conveyed implicitly. Should he ask you to tell him who told you that which you know, do not tell him lest it stir up enmity. If he accepts your advice, praise God, and thank Him. If he should refuse, blame yourself.
If you are given something as a trust guard it better than if it was yours. Return that which was entrusted to you, and beware of betraying trust. The prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said:
“He who cannot keep a trust has no faith” and “Three things are attached to the Throne of God: Benefaction which says “O God! I am by you, therefore let me not be denied!” Kinship, which says “O God! I am by you, thus let me not be severed!” and Trust, which says “O God! I am by you, so let me not be betrayed!”.
Speak truthfully and honor commitments and your promises, for breaching them are signs of hypocrisy. “The signs of a hypocrite are three: when he speaks he lies, when he promises he breaks his promise, and when he is trusted, he betrays that trust.”
Beware of arguments and wrangling, for they cast rancour into the breasts of men, alienate hearts and lead to enmity and hatred. If anyone argues against you and has right on his side, accept what he says for truth must always be followed. If on the other hand he is wrong, leave him, for he is ignorant, and God has said “And turn away from the ignorant.” [vii :199]
Renounce all joking, if very occasionally you do joke to assuage a Muslim’s heart, then speak only the truth. The Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) has said: “Neither argue with your brother nor quarrel, and do not make him a promise and then break it.”
Respect all Muslims, especially those deserving of merit, such as the scholars, the righteous, the elderly. Never frighten or alarm a Muslim, never mock or ridicule them, or despise them.
Be humble for humility is the attribute of believers. Beware of pride for God does not like the proud. Those who humble themselves are raised up by God, and those who are proud are abased by Him.
There are signs that distinguish the humble from the proud:
“that God may separate the vile from the good” [VIII:37].
Signs of humility include a liking for obscurity, dislike of fame, acceptance of truth whether it be from a lowly or noble person, to love the poor, associate with them, to fulfill the rights people have upon you as completely as you can, thank those who fulfill their duties to you, and excuse those who are remiss. Signs of pride include a liking for positions of most dignity when in company, praising oneself, speaking proudly, open haughtiness, arrogance, strutting, and neglecting the rights of others upon you while demanding your rights from them.
Condensed from The Book of Assistance
In the Name of Allah, Most Gracious and Merciful
19 March 1996
To whom it may concern,
As-salamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh
Recently, an article put onto the internet by Akram Safadi criticizing Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi was brought to my attention. My husband, Nuh Keller, and I know Akram as a sincere and honest Muslim and although we share differences with him regarding our understanding of Islam, these have not been an obstacle preventing us from co-operating together to further the cause of the Din. One of the principle causes for our disagreement with Akram is our differing understanding as to how the Islamic sciences should be attained. Akram belongs to a modern generation of educated Arabs who are religious and believe that equipped with the Arabic language and an average intellect, one can explore the books of the Islamic sciences independently of specialized scholars in that field. Nuh and I, on the other hand, take a more traditional stand, believing that any Islamic science should first be read with a specialist in that field in order to correctly understand the terminology and issues related to that subject, and that without this process one is likely to make mistakes in ones understanding.
Sufism is one of the easiest areas to make mistakes in since it is principally concerned with spiritual experience and the means to attaining to it. Since this goal of Sufism is not confined to the realm of our day to day lives, defining this experience in words is hardly understandable except with training in this science and is the reason that many great scholars like Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani have sometimes been misunderstood in the history of Islam by a sector of scholars who have not associated with the Sufis or learnt from them.
I hope here to reply to Akram’s article point by point, and in doing so I hope it will become apparent that Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi was not a man of “Satanic heresies,” as Akram suggests, but rather one of the great figures in the history of our religion. I also hope to illustrate that simply knowing Arabic is not a sufficient qualification to discuss and criticize the Islamic sciences in the same way that knowing English is not enough to contribute to understanding the disciplines of medicine, physics and engineering, and in fact taking such an attitude does more harm than good. And our success is only through Allah, we turn to Him for help and ask Him for an increase in guidance and knowledge.
The first issue that we’ll look at, inshallah, is the “doctrine of the unity of existence (wahdat al-wujud)”. I would rather translate this as “oneness of being” as I believe this more accurately represents what is meant by this concept. Akram wrote the following after translating one of the poems of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani from his Diwan al-Haqa’iq (Collected Poems of Higher Spiritual Realities), “Notice the doctrine of “unity of existence (wahdat al-wujud)”, which is to believe that the existence of all things is one and that existence itself is Allah. Exalted is Allah Most High above their Satanic heresy”. Akram has made the common mistake of taking this concept of “oneness of being” in its ostensive sense, as would be expected, as this is what comes to mind from the literal meaning of the words and he hasn’t been exposed to any other definition.
In order to understand this concept we will first have to look at how existence is defined by the Imams of tenets of faith (`aqida). In the Ahl al-Sunna schools of `aqida existence or being is divided into three categories. The first is necessarily existent (wajib al-wujud), which defines the existence of Allah Most High. Allah Most High exists independently through Himself and His existence is necessary for the existence of all other things. None of His creation share in His existence. It is to this category of being that the Sufis are referring when they say “oneness of being (wahdat al-wujud)”. The second category is contingent existence (al-wujud al-mumkin). This defines the existence of created things that may or may not exist. Created things have no independent being and their existence is not necessary. Allah Most High brought them into being through His will, power and knowledge and if He willed they would have no existence. Creation only exists through Him giving it being, so in this sense it exists through Him, but doesn’t share in His independent, necessary being. The third category is impossible being (mustahil al-wujud), which includes the existence of a co-sharer in Allah’s entity, attributes or actions, which is impossible both according to revelation and the intellect.
If the difference between necessary existence (wajib al-wujud) and contingent existence (mumkin al-wujud) is clearly understood, then a lot of difficulty in Sufi literature is explained. When the Sufis such as `Abd al-Ghani refer to “oneness of being”, they are referring to the existence of Allah Most High. Creation is not what is intended. Created things have no being in themselves in the sense that the movement of a puppet points to the presence of the puppeteer, or a shadow that something is making the shadow. If the puppeteer stopped pulling the strings the puppets being would come to an end. Is the puppet the same as the puppeteer and share in his existence? No. Could the puppet exist without the existence of the puppeteer? No. Does the puppet have a true existence that is in any way parallel to or comparable to the existence of the puppeteer? No. If not that Allah created us and sustains every moment of our life, we would have no life. Does this mean that we are Allah? Certainly not. Is our existence independent of Allah? No. Does our appearance of being in any way resemble the independent being of Allah Most High? No.
That what Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani meant when referring to “oneness of being” was the necessary existence of Allah and not creation is verified in the following poems also taken from the Diwan al-Haqa’iq. On page 44:
The Oneness of Being that we maintain is none other than
the Oneness of the Truth (al-Haqq), so understand what we say, The Oneness of Allah, the sole Unity, which the pre-eminent
luminaries have witnessed,And there is no difference with us, O ignoramus, whether we say
“Being (wujud)” or “The Truth (al-Haqq)”,Don’t imagine that the Being (wujud) that we mention is
creation according to us.
Also, in vol.1, Page 22:
Truly, Being is unseen by eyes,
In respect to what the beholder sees; Eyes perceive nothing of it besides “what is besides”,
Namely, contingent things, a collection of shadows;A shadow but shows that there is something standing,
That controls it, beyond any doubt;So beware of thinking that what you perceive
Is that Being: be one of those who know;For all of what you perceive is but what “is there (al-mawjud)”,
Not this True Being, He of Glorious Signs;Of a certainty, Being is completely debarred from you,
In its majesty, elevation, and exaltedness;For all you see is contingent and perishable,
and you too, are bound to perish.
It should be obvious that Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani was not a pantheist and I think that if Akram had not been hasty, but rather made an objective investigation, he would have reached the same conclusion and absolved himself the responsibility of accusing a Muslim of a doctrine that has no resemblance to that Muslim’s belief.
The next issue I would like to discuss is the credentials of `Abd al-Ghani as a scholar. Akram writes, “Can this `Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi even be trusted as a scholar of the shari`a, let alone considered as an authority in ‘Aqida, Hadith and Fiqh, and be called `Imam’?!”.
`Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi was born in Damascus in 1641 into a family of Islamic scholarship. His father, Isma`il `Abd al-Ghani, was a jurist in the Hanafi school of fiqh and contributor to Arabic literature. `Abd al-Ghani showed diligence in the pursuit of Islamic knowledge and before the age of twenty he was both teaching and giving formal legal opinions (fatwa). He taught in the Umawi Mosque in Damascus and the Salihiyya Madrasa, his fame as an accomplished Islamic scholar spreading to all neighboring Islamic cities. He died in 1731 at ninety years of age, having left behind hundreds of written works in virtually all the Islamic sciences.
His status as a scholar and wali (friend of Allah) is also unstintingly acknowledged by Islamic scholars who came after him. As a prolific contributor to Hanafi fiqh, there is hardly a work in the school that appeared after him that does not depend on or discusses his legal opinions. In the well known and most depended upon work in Hanafi fiqh, Radd al-Muhtar, commonly known as The Hashiya of Ibn `Abidin, the author and Imam of the school in his time, Muhammad Amin ibn `Abidin (d.1836), frequently quotes the legal opinions of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani, referring to him with a reverence and respect that is not apparent in the mention of other scholars quoted in his work. Ahmad ibn Muhammad al-Tahtawi (d.1816), the al-Azhari Sheikh of the Hanafi Jurists, in his well known Hashiya of Maraqi al-Falah, when discussing a legal opinion of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani refers to him as “The knower of Allah, my master `Abd al-Ghani (al-arif billah Sayyidi `Abd al-Ghani)”. It is unthinkable that such eminent scholars should lend such respect to and depend on the scholarship of an individual who might remotely be accused of heresy. Nor is it thinkable that the numerable godfearing scholars who came after them and use and quote their works would find that acceptable (Ibn `Abidin’s work in particular has been used since it was authored by Islamic rulers implementing the shari`a in government, by judges, muftis, jurists and students of Islamic Law). This is particularly true in view of his book Wujud al-Haqq (On True Being), which details his Sufi ontology and which he taught in public seminars to hundreds of contemporary scholars in his own lifetime.
I believe that a valid point can be made here; namely, that in the time of such scholars as Ibn `Abidin and al-Tahtawi Islamic culture was a great deal more integrated and balanced than it is today, such that Sufism was understood by shari`a specialists and even considered necessary for a complete understanding and practice of the Din. In the time in which we live Muslims have been engulfed by a civilization that is completely materialistic in its outlook. I believe that this saturation of the worldly has had the adverse effect on the Muslims of making it difficult for them to comprehend anything beyond the physical, which is why the words and experience of the Sufis seem alien to them. This over emphasis on the material also seems to be the reason that modern day reform minded Muslims have found the concept of an anthropomorphic god acceptable as well as the focus of religion being limited primarily to the outward manifestations of the shari`a only, such as salat and hijab for example, without there being any emphasis on internal development. It is not uncommon to find that such an attitude leads to a spiritual crisis of stagnation and meaninglessness, when after several years of practice the initial sense of euphoria of faith fades and one no longer feels the forward motion of increasing in closeness to Allah Most High.
Regarding the scholarship of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani, one need only read his works to understand how truly brilliant this man was. In whatever subject he addressed, he wrote as an authority, whether Hanafi fiqh, hadith, Islamic ontology and metaphysics, Arabic literature, Quranic readings or other. Some of his works have been published, while the majority are still in manuscript form. Any skeptic could avail himself his works and make an honest investigation.
The next issues brought up by Akram against Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani that I would like to discuss are mentioned by Akram in the following:
I remember that so many years ago I read one of his books, I think it was al-Fath al-Rabbani wa al-Maddad al-Rahmani, in which he claimed that he was taking his information from the Preserved Tablet of Allah! Also, I read a work of his arguing that it is mustahabb (praiseworthy) to build domes over the graves of the awliya, which goes directly against the Sunna.
Beginning with building domes over the graves of the awliya, I found this fatwa by Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani in Taqrirat al-Rafi’i by `Abd al-Qadir al-Rafi’i. Al-Rafi’i (1832-1905), was a Hanafi jurist from al-Azhar. His fame for his knowledge of Hanafi fiqh was such that he was given the epithet “Abu Hanifa Junior”. In his work al-Taqrirat, al-Rafi’i gives recensions for juristic issues discussed by Ibn `Abidin in Radd al-Muhtar (the most depended upon fatwa resource in the Hanafi school as already mentioned) in which no definite conclusion is reached. I would like to record here the details of this discussion and its context as it throws light on the position of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani as a jurist contributing to the Hanafi school.
In the Hanafi school the sunna of graves is that the grave be mounded to the height of a handspan and no more earth should be used than what was dug up out of the grave. This is also the opinion of the majority of scholars. A detailed discussion of the hadith evidences for the mounding of graves to the height of a handspan is presented by Kamal ibn al-Humam in Fath al-Qadir (2:140-141). The position of Imam al-Shafi`i, as mentioned by Imam al-Nawawi in Sharh Sahih Muslim (7:36), is that the sunna of a grave is that it also be a handspan above the ground , but flattened on the top in a rectangular shape rather than mounded.
In the Hanafi as well as Shafi`i schools it is disliked (makruh) to build over a grave. This because of the hadith related by Muslim (2:667, no. 970) from Jabir ibn `Abdullah that the Prophet (Allah bless him and five him peace) forbade that graves be plastered with gypsum, sat on and built over. In Radd al-Muhtar(1:601), after mentioning the sunna of mounding graves, Ibn `Abidin discusses building over graves, commenting that if it is for decoration, then it is haram, while if the objective is to strengthen the grave (from collapse for example) after the burial, then it is makruh. It is at this point that Ibn `Abidin quotes a weaker position from another work in Hanafi fiqh that if the dead person was a sheikh, a scholar or from the family of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace), then it is not disliked to build over his grave. Ibn `Abidin makes no rescension as to whether this position is acceptable, only commenting that to do so in a cemetery that is an endowment (waqf) is not permissible (as it is an infringement upon the rights of others to the shared facilities). Al-Rafi`i quotes this position that Ibn `Abidin didn’t make rescension on in al-Taqrirat (1:123) and adds the following:
In Ruh al-Bayan (a commentary of the Quran), in Sura al-Towba at the word of Allah Most High, “The mosques of Allah may only be built and maintainted by those who believe in Allah and the Day of Judgement, perform the prayers and give zakat, and are afraid of none other than Allah and they are those who are guided“, the author comments, “Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi says inKashf al-Nur`an Ashab al-Qubur (The Unveiling of Light from the Occupants of the Graves) the sum of which is that a good innovation that agrees with the objectives of the Sacred Law is called a sunna. Thus, building domes over the graves of scholars, friends of Allah (awliya) and the righteous and placing covers, turbans and cloth over them is permissable if the objective there-in is to create reverence in the eyes of ordinary people so they won’t disdain the occupant of that grave”.
The point of all of this is not to prove that building domes over the graves of the awliya is permissible, but rather to show the opinion of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani in the context of a fiqhi discussion. There is no doubt in my mind that Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani wasn’t going “directly against the sunna”, or that he was ignorant of hadith. Rather the numerous works he authored in hadith illustrate the depth of his knowledge in this field. The content of his fatwa has been a subject of discussion between Islamic scholars both before and after `Abd al-Ghani. For example, on the side of the defenders, the late hadith specialist `Abdullah al-Ghimari authored a work on the recommendation of building over the graves of the awliya. I would think Ibn `Abidin didn’t consider his reasoning valid as he was familiar with his works and although he quotes him frequently throughout Radd al-Muhtar, he didn’t mention this fatwa on building over graves when discussing the issue. It is not fitting for Akram to simply say that Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani is going directly against the sunna as the implication of these words is that such a person has no care or consideration for the sunna, which is a very grave accusation to make against any Muslim. Rather, Akram should have quoted Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani’s fatwa in full in its proper context and if he is convinced that it is unsubstantiated, he could have argued against it in a scholarly manner.
As for Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani “taking his information from the Preserved Tablet of Allah”, what could he have meant by this? I honestly don’t know, but it does provide the opportunity to bring up some relevant issues. An important point for all persons who love Sufism and the awliya to acknowledge is that theawliya, unlike the prophets (may Allah Most High bless them all), are not divinely protected from error. Their actions and words are at all times subject to the shari`a and the tenets of faith of Ahl al-Sunna. A wali does not produce new rulings for the religion, is not exempt from any shari`a injunctions and doesn’t receive any special inspiration that abrogates or adds to the tenets of faith that have come in the Quran and sunna and which scholars have concurred on the understanding of.
In Jordan and Syria, two of the great Sufi sheikhs of this century whom we have had the opportunity to meet the students of, were Muhammad al-Hashimi, who was originally from Algeria and settled and taught in Damascus and Muhammad Sa`id al-Kurdi, who was a student of Muhammad al-Hashimi and was sent by him to teach the spiritual way to the people of Jordan. It was related to us that some forty years ago, during a lesson given by Sheikh al-Hashimi (which was probably in `aqida, as he taught this subject for long years as well as Sufism), he made a statement concerning an `aqida question that was corrected by his then young student, Sheikh `Abd al-Wakil al-Durubi (who was the mentor of Nuh in Shafi`i fiqh). Sheikh al-Hashimi, in that lesson or the following one, acknowledged to his students that Sheikh `Abd al-Wakil was right and he was wrong. Likewise, Sheikh al-Kurdi made a statement that was corrected by a local Jordanian scholar. Sheikh al-Kurdi acknowledged that he had made a mistake and corrected his position. He was also quoted as saying to his students, “If you see me going out of the masjid with my right foot first, then cease following me“. These great men, who were acknowledged by everyone who knew them to be awliya, were humble enough to admit they had made a mistake and lived always in the confines of the shari`a and Ahl al-Sunna `aqida. And this is true Sufism.
Could Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani have made a mistake? It is possible, because he is not a prophet. Because of my love and respect for him as a great Muslim scholar and Sufi, my own inclination is to believe that considering his knowledge of the shari`a and the depth and dimension of his spiritual state, his statement is most likely valid, but not comprehensible or easily explainable except to someone like himself. In this manner we can have a good opinion (husn al-zann) of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani, at the same time acknowledging that our religion consists of what has come in the Quran and sunna and the statements of the awliya do not constitute proofs beyond that. It may well happen that a well-meaning Muslim inclined to Sufism will interpret a statement made by one of the great Sufis in a manner completely unintended by him and thus come up with ideas alien to Islam. The lesson to be learnt: if you happen to read something by a great Sufi who was known by his contemporaries to be a man of knowledge and taqwa that seems in any way to conflict with the shari`a and you can’t find someone with training in Sufism and its literature to explain it to you, then don’t concern yourself with it, consider that he meant something that is not apparent to you, and stay within the confines of Islam.
Now we come to the central feature of Akram’s article, which is the transliteration and translation of sections of a poem from Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani’s collection of poetry entitled Diwan al-Haqa’iq (Collected Poems of Higher Spiritual Realities). Akram selected one of the more difficult poems in the collection and we found that we were unable to explain it all, so we saught the help of one of the members of our tariqah who is well acquainted with the works and terminology of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani, Dr. Mahmoud al-Husseini of Aleppo. The following explanation and commentary of the poem is summarized from an article that he wrote on the matter at our request. May Allah Most High reward him for his efforts.
The key to deciphering this poem is found in the works of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani discussing existence. In his Kitab al-Wujud (The Book of Being), he presents the concept that being or existence is a term that can only be applied to Allah Most High and is not shared at all with His creation. On page 5 of Kitab al-Wujud he states,
“Know that we have depended on what we found in the Quran and sunna for our position that being (wujud) is Allah Most High and that creation is not Allah Exalted and Most High. And we don’t agree in this with the heretics and apostates that True Being is all of creation”.
Taking this as our criteria in understanding the poem, Allah willing, we will be able to see it in a light acceptable to the shari`a. Akram began his translation from the eighth verse, but in doing so he took the poem out of context. We will need to return to the first couple of verses to introduce what Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani is aiming at, after which explaining the rest of the verses will make more sense, inshallah.
1.Wujudi jalla `an jismi
My Being is exalted above my bodywa `an ruhi wa `an `aqli
And above my spirit and intellect
The Being through which all things exist, the Living (al-Hayy), the Self Subsistent through which all things subsist (al-Qayyum), is transcendent above the body or spirit, and is not comprehended by the intellect, whose limit of operation is in the created world. Nor is it subject to the shari`a or moral responsibility (taklif), as this takes place with corporal human beings, not with the Eternal Self Subsistent (al-Qayyum):
2. Wa `an shar`i wa taklifi
And (it is exalted above) my being morally responsible and subject to the shari`awa `an hukmi wa `an naqli
And above what I am and what I convey
So, when Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani says, “My Being (wujudi)”, he means precisely “the Being through which I exist”, as his understanding is that the term being (wujud) can only be applied to Allah, whereas we are creation and our origin is nothingness. Because, in the terminology of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani, being is a unique attribute of Allah, when he says “my Being” it is synonymous with saying “my Lord” or “my Creator”, as these are attributes applicable to Allah alone. We will look at another passage from Kitab al-Wujud to verify this. On page 16 he says:
Contingent being, that is known by all persons and believed to be an attribute of things, is a misconception that predominates among those that envisage it their minds. For they conceive a particular meaning that exists in the True Being (Allah) that we mention and then imagine that this meaning spreads to all contingent things and becomes an attribute of them. And this is not the case, for there is only one True Being (Allah) and the forms that are the creation of that True Being subsist through it, there being none other that gives them subsistence except Him. We have never heard that any contingent thing gives subsistence to another contingent thing. It has neither come in the Quran or sunna, nor was it ever mentioned by any of the Imams of Guidance. But rather, the only Living and Subsistent over all things (al-Hayy al-Qayyum) is Allah Exalted and Glorious, without any partner and it is to Him we are referring when we speak of being (al-wujud).
This perspective is repeated in other parts of the poem, e.g:
17. Wa inni lastu makhluqan
And I am not createdWa la shurbi wa la akli
Nor my drink and food
Meaning, the Being through which Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani and his food and drink exist is not created. Returning to the focus of his created, contingent being he then says:
18. Wa la ana al-khallaqu
And I am not the Oft-CreatingDhu san` wa dhu fi`l
He Who Produces and Does
Going through the rest of the poem in this light, I have selected some of the more easier verses to understand hoping that this will be sufficient to explain the general content without having to tackle the more difficult passages.
23. Ana al-akwanu bi qamat
I, through me the universe existsAna al-aflaqu min ajli
I, for my sake are the celestial bodies24. Ana al-amlaku tadri bi
I, the angels know of meWa minni tartaji bathli
And from me they hope for my generosity26. Wa ana lastu insanan
And I am not a human beingWa la min thalika al-nasli
And nor am I of that progeny27. Wa la bi al-jinni wa al-amlaki
And not of the jinn and angelsWa al-haywani fa`raf li
Nor of the animals, so know me
That he is referring to the Being of Allah Most High and not to himself is indicated after these verses with the following verse:
35. Wa ma `Abd al-Ghani ismi
And `Abd al-Ghani is not my nameWa hatha muqtadha al-shakli
this is the implication of the contingent form
Here, again, we return to the position of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani that existence is an attribute of Allah alone and that creation has no true being.
In the last section of his poem, Sheikh `Abd al Ghani makes allusion to the Divine Presence which is the presence of the Being he has been referring to up to this point. This also provides us with an opportunity to look at some more terms that have been used in Sufi literature throughout Islamic history. The Divine Presence is expressed in the Quran by such verses as:
Say, He is Allah, the One.
Allah, the Absolute.
He does not beget, nor was He begotten,
and there is nothing whatsoever like unto Him.
In the sunna this presence is indicated by the hadith in Bukhari (4.129:3191), “Allah was and there was nothing besides Him“. The experience of this presence is through what in Sufi terminology is called fana, often translated as “annihilation”, in which the majesty of Allah Most High dawns on the heart of the servant and he becomes oblivious to all the created world including himself. It is to this experience that Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani refers in the following verses:
38. Tajarrid wanza` `an al-athwabi wa al-na`li
Strip, and take off your robes and sandals
Clothing is the term used to denote contingent being and sandals this world and the next. This is how the Quranic verse has been elucidated in Sufi interpretation of the Quran (tafsir ishari) in which Allah Most High addresses Musa (upon whom be peace), “And take off your two sandals, for you are in the sacred valley of Tuwa“. So, the meaning indicated by Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani is to see beyond the created world to the One who created and sustains it and to leave one’s desire for this world and the next. Rather, to fill one’s heart with the desire and love for Allah alone. If we were to take these words literally, in the manner in which Akram has approached this poem, we would have to add onto the list of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani’s crimes that he advocates nudism.
39. Wa kun sarfan bi la mazjin
And be pure without mixtureWa kun rawdhan bi la baqlin
And be a flower garden without herbage40. Wa kun khamran bi la ka’sin
And be wine without a glassWa kun shamsan bi la thillin
And be a sun without shade
All of these verses refer to the servant seeing himself as nothing in either the state of fana (annihilation) in which he is drowned in the Divine Majesty of “Allah was and there was nothing besides Him”, or in the state of baqa’ (subsistence) in which he sees all things existing through Him alone and that they have no true independent being. For example, pureness – the Divine Presence; without mixture – contingent being; wine – there is no god but Allah; without a glass – creation; the sun – lose yourself in his True Being; without shade – your contingent form and so on.
A great more detail could be gone into that would explain the science of Sufism, the place of technical terms used in this discipline by all learned contributors to its literature, and exactly how it corresponds to the orthodox tenets of faith of Islam. However, this is a breif sketch for the internet to provide some insight and not meant to be a full exposition on Sufism.
As mentioned at the beginning of this article, trying to exposit the works of the Sufis without having a background in their terminology and experience leads to an inevitable misunderstanding of what they said. I hope that this has, to some extent, become clear. Akram hasn’t had training in this discipline and so taking everything literally, his conclusion is that `Abd al-Ghani thinks that he and all of creation is Allah. May Allah Most High protect us from such a heresy. This conclusion would classify Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani under the category of unbelievers who will be punished in Hell eternally.
Akram likes to discuss issues in a scholarly manner and for this reason he takes pains to present dates and publication data accurately. However, one cannot help noticing that a minimal effort given to research would have acquainted him with something of the meaning of Sheikh `Abd al-Ghani’s work (e.g. readingKitab al-Wujud, which details what he means by “being”) and absolved him of the responsibility of accusing a Muslim known and revered for his knowledge and piety of being an unbeliever. Now, since Akram is a conscientious Muslim who fears Allah and knows that he will answer for all of his actions on the Day of Judgement, then why this heedless haste to destroy the reputation of a Muslim and why such a malicious tone? The answer to this, I believe, is that the debate between him and Fouad Haddad, which may have initially been constructive, is now primarily motivated by the want to destroy one’s enemy. The proof that they are being motivated by a strong impulse of the self (hawa al-nafs) and not acting for Allah is that the consequences of their actions in the next world have become overshadowed in their minds by the desire “to get even”. And isn’t this what our life in this world is all about – whether or not we will let the reins of our self motivations go and thus transgress the bounds of the shari`a, or be careful instead to keep them under control and within the limits established by the revelation? Working from the basis of “the friend of my enemy is my enemy”, the names of great Muslims of the past are being dragged in the mud. This will not go unrecorded by the angels.
I would like to offer some advice to all the brothers, on both sides, involved in this debate. First, as Muslims, we should not forget the purpose of our existence, which is to acknowledge the oneness of Allah Most High and to worship Him according to the instruction of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) in sincerity. We should always look to our hearts to ensure that our actions are motivated by sincerity (ikhlas) and god-fearingness (taqwa) and if not, then realize that our acts will be counted against us on the Day of Judgement.
Second, discussion is healthy, but should be based on knowledge. If half of the time spent on internet debates was spent on learning and research, what was actually written might be of substance and benefit to the Muslims, rather than misleading. At the religious level, I wonder how often its most zealous contributors find the time to get up in the last third of the night and soften their hearts with prayer and earnest supplication (or perhaps their hearts have been hardened with too much arguing)?
Lastly, we should remember the example of our beloved Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) and seek to apply what we can of his perfect character in our own lives. In a hadith related by Muslim (4.1706:2165), the Jews of Medina when greeting the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace), dropped one of the letters of the words so instead of saying “al-Salamu alaykum” they said “al-Samu alaykum“, which changed the meaning of “Peace be upon you” to “Death be upon you”. `A’isha replied, “May death be upon you and curses”. The Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) disapproved of `A’isha’s reply and said, “Verily, Allah loves kindness in everything (inna Allah yuhibu al-rifqa fi al-amri kulihi)”.
And our success is only from Allah Most High, we turn to Him for guidance, forgiveness and an increase in knowledge.
Umm Sahl
Amman, Jordan
Tasawwuf can be called the inwardness of Islam. Islam, like most other faiths to a greater or lesser extent, consists firstly of certain beliefs, such as the existence of God, and the coming of the Judgement, and reward and punishment in the next life, and the outward expression of these beliefs in forms of worship, such as prayer and fasting, all of which concern man’s relationship with God; and secondly, a system of morality, which concerns man’s relationship with man, and has its outward expression in certain social institutions and laws, such as marriage, inheritance, and civil and criminal laws. But it is obvious that the basis of this faith, the spirit that gives it life, is man’s relationship with God. Forms of worship are simply the physical vehicles of this relationship, and it is this relationship again which is responsible for the origin, the significance and the ultimate sanction of the principles of morality and their formulation into a specific social and legal system. If the interior converse with the Supreme Being and inspiration from Him are present, then they are comparable to the soul within the body of the exterior religion; if they die away, or in proportion to the extent that they wither or become feeble, the outward form of the faith becomes like a soulless body, which by the inexorable law of nature swiftly succumbs to corruption. It is therefore man’s direct relationship with his Maker which is the breath and life of religion, and it is the study and cultivation of this relationship that the word tasawwuf connotes.
It may be wondered why the words ‘Sufi’, which means ‘woollen-clothed’, and ‘Tasawwuf’, which means the path of the Sufis, i.e. the woollen-clothed ones, should have become so universal in order to denote something which belongs properly to the realm of the spirit. This name is symbolic rather than descriptive. To be a Sufi does not require a person literally to wear woollen clothes, but presumes an inner quality which was at one time characteristic of those who wore them. In the early generations of Islam, through the closeness to the time of the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) and the illumination of his incomparable spirituality, which encompassed so completely the inner and the outer, the comprehension of the inwardness of Islam enwrapped in its outward expressions was so general that no group of people who devoted themselves specially to this aspect of the faith was distinguishable. It was only when the inevitable course of development of human affairs began to run and the original trunk of universality began to throw out branches of specialisation, that Islamic knowledge was progressively divided into the interior and the exterior, and the general word ilm (knowledge) began to denote more the academic study of the Qur’an, Hadith and Fiqh than their spiritual content, contrary to its Qur’anic use in the sense of ‘knowledge of Allah’. At this stage that body of Muslims who devoted themselves more particularly to the cultivation of the spiritual heritage of their Prophet (peace be upon him), began to use the termMa‘rifat (Recognition of Allah) and arif (One who recognises Allah) to denote this inward aspect of knowledge, and indeed still do to the present day. So it was possible that instead of being termed Sufis they might have been called Ahl-i Ma‘rifat, or Arifin. But not every aspirant to spiritual development is anArif, and the average human mind seeks more the outward badge than the inner reality, which in this case is anyway difficult to describe, so the habit observed in certain Godly persons (in reaction to the excessive luxury of the times) of wearing coarse woollen clothes, which were then the mark of extreme poverty, was taken as the symbol of all those who sought the inner life; and this term’s convenience and simplicity has withstood all the vagaries of time and place throughout the Islamic world.
The visible formulations of Islam are therefore both enlivened by the spiritual and moral force behind them, and so they are the manifestations of this force, and at the same time they are the means of attaining these spiritual and moral quaities; this can be said to constitute their main purpose. Thus these two aspects of Islam are mutually generative, each one producing the other. It can be seen from the Word of Allah, the Qur’an, that wherever something concerning man’s outward actions is decreed, its inward content and purpose is also stressed. Take Prayer for instance; Allah says ‘Observe Prayer for My remembrance’ (20:14); or ‘The believers have attained success; who are humble in their prayers’ (32:1), emphasising that the object of Prayer is not the mere outward performance, but to remember Him with a humble heart. In the case of fasting, Allah says, ‘Fasting has been decreed for you, as it was decreed for those who came before you, that you may be God-fearing.’ (2:183) Regarding sacrifice on the occasion of Pilgrimage, He says: ‘It is not their blood or their flesh which reaches Him, but the devotion from you.’ (22:37) On the subject of marriage: ‘It is one of His signs that He has made for you mates of your own kind that you may find peace in them, and He has created affection and kindness between you.’ (30:24) On spending for the poor: ‘They (the righteous) give food to the needy, the orphan and the prisoner, for the love of Him; they say: We feed for the sake of Allah only, and desire no reward or thanks from you.’ (76:8,9) If we reflect on these and other similar indications in the Qur’an, we are led to the conclusion that if it is necessary to observe the outward ordinances of our faith, it is equally necessary to develop within ourselves those qualities which are their soul; that these two are complementary and one cannot exist in a sound state without the other. When the word ‘Shari‘at’ is used, one immediately calls to mind the basic beliefs of Islam, without which a person cannot be reckoned a Muslim, and the external decrees comprising forms of worship, rules of behaviour, and civil and criminal laws. In short, it is the outwardness of Islam which is normally referred to by this term. But we have seen that within this outer Shari‘at there exists an inner Shari‘at of equal importance, which constitutes both its inspiration and its goal. Like the word ‘ilm’ (Knowledge) which originally comprised both the inward realisation of divine truths as well as outward knowledge of Islamic tenets, the term ‘Shari‘at’ (the road) should really include the devotion of the heart to Allah as well as the specific beliefs, and the attainment of moral excellence as well as submission to the law. But just as ‘ilm’ came to mean only book-knowledge, so ‘Shari‘at’ came to mean only the law; as a result, the Sufis, the devotees of the spirit of Islam, began to use the word ‘Ma‘rifat’ for the inner relationship with God, and in place of the word ‘Shari‘at’, they chose the word ‘tariqat’ (the Path) to denote the way to spiritual perfection. Just as the outer shari‘at consists of two parts, belief and practice, so also does this inner shari‘at manifest itself in two main fields.
The first is man’s attitude to his Maker. From the Qur’an and the teachings of the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) we learn that this attitude should be inspired by love, hope, fear, gratitude, patience, trust, self-sacrifice and complete devotion; and that He should be felt to be constantly near. This is the inwardness of belief. The second is man’s attitude to his fellow men: Allah and his Prophet (peace be upon him) have taught us that this should be inspired by sympathy, justice, kindness, unselfishness, generosity, sternness on matters of principle, leniency wherever possible, and that we must avoid pride, jealousy, malice, greed, selfishness, miserliness and ill-nature. These qualities will not be found explained in the books of Fiqh; it required a group of people distinct from the jurists to determine and develop the science of the soul. Of these two parts of the inner Shari‘at, it is the first, i.e. man’s relationship with God, which is the root, the moral attitude of man towards his fellows being derived from it. It is the realisation that all men are creatures of the One God, and that He wishes us to treat them with mercy and kindness, and at times justice, which should reflect His own sublime qualities, and that if we succeed in this we shall win His pleasure, that is the real basis of morality. Some have made the mistake of imagining that morality can exist by itself without the foundation of religion, and have tried to promulgate a non-religious ethical code as a substitute for faith. This is nothing but a mental illusion. It comes about in this way: through the medium of religious teaching, a certain moral outlook permeates a whole society, and colours not only the specifically religious life, but education and social customs and habits of thinking and acting. When at a later stage some people take to agnosticism and rebel against the established faith, they are unable to separate themselves from this moral attitude which has now become the very stuff of their mental being. Without realising the origin of their morality, they fall into the error of considering it self-existent, and imagine that they can reform society by simply calling upon people to be ethical. But it is a matter of observation that such inherited moral attitudes, when cut off from the tree of religion to which they owe their being, very quickly decay, and it is not long before the very basis of morality is questioned and finally denied, and non-moral philosophies are openly proclaimed. By contrast, the morality based on faith in God, derived from a revealed Book and given life by the consciousness of Divine pleasure, has in it the seeds not of decay but of growth and fruition.
That it is man’s inner relationship with Allah which gives meaning and value to his outward expression of belief and the performance of his religious duties is asserted most pointedly in one of the most famous sayings of the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him). The following incident is reported by Omar, the second Khalifa.
‘We were sitting with the Messenger of Allah one day when a man appeared with very white clothes and very black hair, with no signs of travel upon him. None of us recognised him. He came and sat before the Prophet (peace be upon him) with his knees touching his knees, and his hands placed on his thighs. He then said: ‘O Muhammad, tell me, what is Islam?’ The Prophet replied: ‘Islam is that you testify that there is no god but Allah, and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah, and that you establish prayer, and Zakat, fast the month of Ramadan, and make the pilgrimage to the House of Allah if you are able.’ The man said: ‘You are right’, and we wondered that he both asked and confirmed the answer. Then he said: ‘what is Iman?’ The Prophet replied: ‘Iman is that you believe in Allah, His Angels, His Books, His Messengers and the Last Day, and that you believe in the predestination of good and evil.’ The man said: ‘You are right. Now tell me what is Ihsan (good performance)?’ The Prophet replied: ‘That you worship Allah as if you are seeing Him and if you do not see Him, He surely sees you.’’
Then after asking about the Last Day, the man left, and the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) informed his companions that this was the Angel Gabriel who came to teach them their religion.
Here the word Ihsan, which means to perform something in the best manner, is explained as ‘the worship of Allah as if you are seeing Him, and if you do not see Him, He surely sees you.’ This means that the consciousness of the presence of Allah, and the feeling of Love and awe which accompany it, must permeate both our faith and practice (Iman and Islam) and it is in proportion to this consciousness that our excellence in religion can be judged. Clearly this sense of presence is not to be confined only to worship, but to all our actions (one version of the above incident, in fact, has ‘to work for Allah as if you are seeing Him’). It is precisely this awareness of the nearness and presence of Allah that the Sufis have as their ultimate goal in all their activities.
So far we have been speaking of the Muslims’ relationship with Allah in a general way. But Tasawwuf has a more specific content, that is to say, it aims at bringing the novice to the direct spiritual experience. The fountainhead of Islam (a fact which is often forgotten) is the direct spiritual experience of the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) by means of which the message of God was conveyed to man. This spiritual experience had many forms, and was continuous throughout the period of the Prophet’s prophethood, starting from the initial vision of the Angel when the call to the divine mission was sounded, and persisting throughout the inspiration of the Divine Book, with other manifestations such as Hadith Qudsi (Divine inspirations apart from the Qur’an itself) and revelations of the next world. It is illustrated particularly in the Mi‘raj (the Ascension), which culminates in the vision of the Supreme Reality. When the essence of prophethood is the spiritual experience, it would be strange indeed if some portion of this aspect of the prophetic life were not inherited by the Prophet’s companions and those who followed them. So we find a tradition of spiritual experience alongside that of the more obvious branches of religious teaching concerned with beliefs and practices. In the early stages it was not considered proper to publish such experiences and considerable reticence was observed; it was thought sufficient only to hint at them. As time passed, reticence was lessened and gradually the science of Tasawwuf was outwardly formulated, although the very nature of these most inward matters makes some reticence inevitable at all times.
Abu Huraira, one of the intimate companions of the Prophet (peace be upon him) used to say: ‘I acquired two vessels from the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him), one of which I published; but if I published the other my throat would be cut.’ This is an interesting allusion to the danger of making a show of spiritual experience before those who do not understand them. If the experiences are believed, then some people out of ignorance are inclined to raise the one who is spiritually gifted almost to divinity, if not to make him into God Himself. If they are disbelieved, the doubters become guilty of denying what is true, and deprive themselves of certain special benefits which it is the Will of God that they should have. This is the reason why ‘sufis’ have always counselled great caution in the matter of describing some of their spiritual states in detail as these can only be appreciated in the tasting, and not in the description. In spite of the obvious references in the Qur’an, the Hadiths and the lives of the companions, some have tried to deny this spiritual heritage of the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) and claim that the early Muslims were only ‘ascetics’ and not ‘mystics’. But to perceive spirituality where it exists is not given to everyone, even to perceive it at all; let it suffice to say that the extraordinary dedication to Allah and His Prophet (peace be upon him) and their commands by the leading companions and followers would be inexplicable without a profound spiritual experience.
I have said that in the early period the outer and the inner aspects of Islam, that is, the outward observance and its spiritual content, were not divided but formed a homogeneous whole, but as time passed and specialised knowledge increased, it became necessary and inevitable that a body of Muslims should devote themselves more particularly to the inwardness of Islam which came to be known as Tasawwuf. If we consider the development of Tasawwuf as a science, that is the science of the soul, we find that it provides a close comparison with the development of other sciences based on the principle of the Divine Book and the life of Allah’s Messenger (peace be upon him). To take the science of Hadith as an example, we find that during the first century, which was the time of the Companions and the followers, things remained very much in the original form of personal teaching from those who sat in the company of the Great Ones, with little sign of elaboration and formalisation. During the second century we begin to find a more or less comprehensive collection and criticism, which culminate in the third century in critical recensions based on now thoroughly elaborated and determined principles. In the case of Fiqh we find a similar process; after the first century of the direct and practical teaching of the companions and followers, the second century produces elaborate compendia of legal decisions and the formulation of principles of jurisprudence which again by the third century had been built up into a relatively independent science. Tasawwuf, too, was constructed into a spiritual science on the firm foundations of the spiritual heritage of the Prophet of God; here again, the elaboration begins in the second century in the recorded sayings and treatises and books of the early Sufis, and in the third century Tasawwufappears as a fully developed and formulated spiritual science. It is just as gratuitous to talk critically of later innovation in the matter of Tasawwuf as it is in the matter of Fiqh, Hadith and Tafsir. There is a world of difference between elaborations and innovations, which people with muddled minds find difficult to distinguish.
Although the development of Tasawwuf can be historically compared with that of the other sciences, there is an intrinsic superiority in Tasawwuf which should be well remembered. This superiority lies in that the expansion of the science of spiritual development is based on experience and direct observation confirmed in its broad pattern by thousands of travellers on the upward path of the soul, whereas the other sciences mainly owe their formulation to reason and conjecture. All, of course, are founded on tradition, that is, the Qur’an and its living commentary by the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) and his followers, but the process of later elaboration has this fundamental difference. It cannot be contested that direct experience, especially when it is common to large numbers of people, is a vastly more authoritative source of knowledge than rational speculation. For instance, after the data provided by revelation and tradition the chief instrument in the development of Fiqh is Qiyas (analogy) or Ra’y (opinion). The main pillar of the science of Hadith is Jarh and Ta‘dil, which means the critical examination of the reliability of the reporters of a certain Hadith in addition to its subject matter. Obviously these processes are rational and speculative. The development of Tasawwuf, however, has consisted in the progressively more detailed expounding of the spiritual experience constituting the inner heritage of the Noble Prophet (peace be upon him) and has no content of conjecture and opinion. This vital element has resulted in a remarkable unanimity among the proponents of this science throughout the ages, and whatever differences that exist are those of emphasis or mode of expression and do not show any real cleavage in the essential unity.
We have already alluded to the function of Tasawwuf, which is to perfect the relationship of man first with his God, and secondly with his fellow men. Now it is obvious that only very few people have the call to devote themselves entirely to spirituality and become, as it were, specialists in the inner life. This appears to be the result of some innate urge which so drives those who possess it as not to allow them to follow any other vocation. This is not to say that even these specially gifted few entirely abandon all usual worldly activities. On the contrary, we find in Islam, in distinction from other religious communities, that its greatest scientists of the soul were mostly married, had children and conducted their household and similar affairs like other men. It is another matter that during the period of training for spiritual development a certain retirement, either total or partial, is usually required, as indeed it is during the acquirement of other branches of specialist learning. It is also true that even after reaching expertness many of the Islamic spiritualists paid very little attention to the earning of their livelihood and spent their whole time in teaching and giving solace, help and encouragement to the common people. Their physical wants were looked after by their pupils and admirers, as was the practice until recently even in the case of those who taught children how to read and write. In this deliberate neglect of their own material needs in order to devote themselves more unhamperedly to their mission, they observed the utmost selflessness and resignation to Allah, and never expressly or by implication gave any sign of the poverty or even hunger which they often had to undergo. If they neglected the world, it was only as far as their own wants were concerned; they never neglected the wants of those who came to them for spiritual nourishment, or even for physical nourishment if they had any to spare, for in addition to being at the service of those who were hungry for the things of the soul, they often conducted public kitchens for the feeding of the poor, and engaged themselves in the healing of the sick in body as well as those who were sick in spirit, as is well-known to those who have studied their lives.
Just as spiritual specialists are few by the nature of things, so also the number of the pupils who shape their lives in close conformity to those of their masters is also very small. These selected followers are those who, having the inner call, are later charged with the duty of carrying on the work of teaching and exhortation in a new generation. But the majority of those who visit these inheritors of the more inward traditions of Islam are those who, while engaged in their daily vocations, wish to refresh themselves from the toils of the world at the pure springs of sincerity and devotion which they find so abundant with the Sufis. It is here that we see the influence of the Sufis working and giving new life to the whole wide land of the community. The ordinary men and women who spend a part of their time with the Sufis acquire some measure of inspiration for their spiritual and moral betterment, and to this measure their whole lives are affected. It is the spiritual orientation and the moral attitude which constitute the fountain-head of human thought, and so of human action. Events in man’s history, and the growth, flourishing, and decay of peoples, can always be traced back to these inner sources. The contact of people of the world with the Sufis, whether they be kings, princes, captains, merchants, administrators, artisans or peasants, indirectly affects the whole movement of the nation along the uneven road of time. It is from these most intimate wells of inspiration that a certain quality is given to the thought and life of a whole culture; what a pity that some superficial intellects are unable to perceive these undercurrents of history. Economics, politics, and social life are all controlled by the mental processes of man; he can only ignore at his peril these deep directive forces from which his mental processes emerge. The apparent obscurity and detachment of the Sufi conceal an activity of radical importance to the whole Muslim nation.
(The writer (1915-1978) was an English convert to Islam who became a Shaykh of the Tariqa Chishtiyya, living a life of simplicity in Karachi, Pakistan, where his holiness gained him the love and devotion of thousands of Muslims from all walks of life. May Allah show him His mercy, and grant him light in his grave. Amin.)
The Revival of the Religious Sciences
by Hujjat al-Islam Abu Hamid al-Ghazali (r.a.)
Abridged by Shaykh Ahmad al-Shami
Quarter III: Attributes leading to Perdition
Book VIII: The Condemnation of Status and Ostentation
In the name of Allah, most compassionate and merciful!
You should know – may Allah bestow uprightness upon you – that the basis of status is reputation and fame, both of which are blameworthy. By contrast, anonymity is praiseworthy, except for him whom Allah, exalted is He, has given fame in the spread of His din without him making an effort to procure it.
Allah, exalted is He, says: {As for the abode of the hereafter, We grant it [only] to those who do not seek to exalt themselves on earth, nor yet to spread corruption…}.[1] Note that here Allah has juxtaposed the will for exaltation and the will for corruption, and shown that the abode of the Afterlife is only given to the one who is free from both wills. Allah, exalted is He, says: {As for those who care for [no more than] the life of this world and its adornment -We shall repay them in full for all that they did in this life, and they shall not be deprived of their just due therein: [yet] it is they who, in the life to come, shall have nothing but the fire. For in vain shall be all that they wrought in this world, and worthless all that they ever did!}.[2] In a general sense, these two verses also allude to love of status, for status is the greatest pleasure of the world and its best embellishment.
Allah’s Messenger – peace be upon him – said: “Many a dishevelled man covered with dust and wearing worn-out clothes passes unnoticed, [but] were he to adjure Allah, He would bring to pass his request.”[3] And he – peace be upon him – also said: “Shall I not inform you about the folk of Paradise: [they consist of] all weak persons deemed weak [by others], [but who] were they to adjure Allah, He would bring to pass their requests. As for the folk of Hell [they consist of] all proud, disdainful persons who are parsimonious with their abundant wealth.”[4]
Ibn Mas‘ud said: “You should be fountainheads of knowledge, lamps of guidance, recluses in your homes, engaged in worship at night with renewed hearts, and wearers of worn-out clothes, known by the folk of heaven and hidden from the inhabitants of the earth.” And al-Fudayl said: “If you can afford not to be known then do so. What harm shall ever come to you from being unknown? Why should you care if you are not praised? And why should you care if you are criticised by people while being praised by Allah, exalted is He?” And Ibrahim ibn Adham said: “He who loves status is not being truthful with Allah.”
It is reported that when Ayyub al-Sakhtiyani was once travelling, a huge group of people came to see him off. [When he saw them] he said: “Had I not known that Allah knows that I inwardly dislike this [reputation], I would have feared the loathing of Allah, exalted and glorified is He.”
A man said to Bishr al-Hafi: “Advise me!” The latter replied: “Retain your anonymity and seek lawful sustenance.”
These traditions and reports inform you that fame is to be condemned and that anonymity is praiseworthy. What is meant by fame is the repute which consists of status and position [that a person has] in people’s hearts. Furthermore, the love of status is at the root of all corruption. Seeking fame is blameworthy; but it is not blameworthy to acquire it by leave of Allah, glorified is He, so long as the bondsman makes no effort towards it.
Status and wealth are two pillars of this world. Wealth is the possession of beneficial substances, and status is the possession of [people’s] hearts from which obedience and glorification may be expected.
Just as the rich man possesses monies by means of which he can obtain his aims, purposes and all other requirements of the self, so does the person who possesses status own people’s hearts. That is to say he can use them to achieve his aims and desires. And just as fortunes are procured by means of different crafts and occupations, so too can people’s hearts be gained by means of different kinds of treatment. Hearts, however, do not become devoted except through information and conviction. If the heart believes in any trait of perfection in anything, it yields towards it and devotes itself to it according to the heart’s degree of conviction and the degree of perfection it sees in that trait. A person may consider perfect what is not actually so, yet the heart, nevertheless, necessarily yields to the holder of that trait in conformity with its conviction.
As the owner of wealth also seeks the acquisition of slaves, so does the seeker of status seek the bondage and slavery of freemen and the possession of their selves by means of owning their hearts. In fact the kind of slavery that the seeker of status aims for is the more powerful of the two.
Hence, the meaning of status is establishing position in people’s hearts. Status gives rise to [several] outcomes such as praise, extolling, service, assistance, preference, glorification and respect. Its cause is the belief that a person has perfect traits with regard to either knowledge, worship, good manners, lineage, authority or physical beauty.
The reason for the instinctive love of status
You should know that that which is a requisite for the love of wealth is also a requisite for the love of status. And as the possession of gold and silver provides man with the ability to obtain all his needs, so too does the possession of the hearts of freemen provide the same ability. The fact that they have a common cause implies that there is a common love. Nevertheless, there are three factors which give precedence to the possession of status over the possession of wealth.
First, it is easier to obtain wealth by means of status than it is to obtain status by means of wealth. For if the man of knowledge or the ascetic, who has status in people’s hearts, were to seek wealth he would easily obtain it. Conversely, if the mean person were to seek such status he would not obtain it even if he were rich.
Second, wealth is prone to misfortune and ruin, through [for example] theft. It may also be the object of transgressors’ and rulers’ resentful envy. As for the hearts of people, if they are owned, they can never be exposed to such misfortunes.
Third, the ownership of hearts carries on and increases without the need to toil or strive, whereas the increase of wealth has to be achieved through both.
There is an amazing characteristic about [people’s] natural dispositions towards the love of wealth and status which are used to achieve their purposes, and this characteristic is the love of amassing wealth, accumulating treasures and increasing the quantity of reserves they hold for all needs. Such is the extent of this love that were a bondsman to have two valleys of gold he would nevertheless wish for a third. Similarly, man likes to see his status increased and his reputation spread to the remotest lands, even to those which he categorically knows he will never set foot on and whose inhabitants he will never meet.
People’s hearts are hardly free from this love for two reasons.
First, it ends the pain of fear. Man is fearful for his future and has grave anticipations even if his needs are satisfied in the immediate term. He is conscious that the wealth which currently satisfies his requirements may vanish and that he will consequently have to rely on other people. Thus preoccupied, fear erupts in his heart. Nothing can put a stop to this fear except the tranquillity that follows the accumulation of another fortune which he may resort to when misfortune befalls his initial wealth. Because he takes pity on himself and because he loves life, man always expects longevity and is alert to the possibility of unexpected needs. Because he foresees and fears possible misfortunes befalling his wealth, he seeks that which might drive it away, and [in his opinion] this is abundant wealth. This fear, however, is not confined just to a specific measure of wealth. It is also the reason which arouses in man the love for position and wealth in the hearts of those living far away from his homeland. For he always expects a reason which would cause his departure from his own country or which could cause the departure of those distant people from their country to his.
Second, by natural disposition each person wants perfection. Having fallen short of such perfection, the soul does not give up its desire for it. The soul loves and desires perfection and delights in it for its own sake and not for any other purpose. It is in this sense that man instinctively loves controlling things through possessing the ability to dispose of them. Among these things are money and belongings but also the hearts and souls of other human beings which are the most precious of that which exists on earth.
You have learnt that the meaning of status is the possession of hearts and that this is among the [desirable] substances of the world. That ends with death, and the world is but a sowing-field for the Afterlife. However, because it is incumbent upon a person to have a minimum of wealth for the necessities of food and drink, it is incumbent upon him to have a minimum of status for the necessity of living with other people. This is because he may need [for example] a servant, a friend or a teacher. That a person wishes to have a position in the heart of his servant as he calls the latter to be at his service is not blameworthy. Nor is it in itself blameworthy to like having a certain standing in the heart of one’s friend in that this cements the friendship and help him to his advantage.
Status, like wealth, is a means to [worldly] substances and in this sense there is no difference between the two. To like them in order to serve the needs of the body is not blameworthy, but to like them for their essences – in what exceeds the basic necessities of the body – is blameworthy.
In sum, status is sought in three different ways, two of them being permissible while one is prohibited. The prohibited way is seeking to establish a position in people’s hearts by making them believe that one possesses a trait which [in reality] one does not possess, such as knowledge, piety or [noble] lineage, and as a consequence of which people take one to be knowledgeable or pious when one is not. This way is unlawful because it is a lie and a deceit.
As for the two potentially permissible ways, the first entails seeking position [in people’s hearts] for a trait that one [truly] possesses, as was the case with [the Prophet] Yusuf -peace be upon him – who said as reported of him by Allah, exalted is He: {[Joseph] replied: “Place in my charge the store-houses of the land; behold, I am a good and knowing keeper”}.[5] [Note that] he asked for this position owing to his being good and knowledgeable and that he needed this position, but he was truthful [in attributing goodness and knowledge to himself]. The second involves concealing a defect or offence lest discovering it cause the cessation of one’s position. This is also permissible because concealing one’s ugly traits is permissible; to reveal what is concealed [of one’s failings] and to display one’s repulsive traits is not allowed. There is no deceit in such behaviour, for it is nothing more than concealing information which yields no benefit [to others]. It is like the person who although he hides the fact that he drinks wine nevertheless does not pretend to be a pious person. But if this person were to claim that he were pious then he would be committing a deception. The fact that he does not admit to drinking wine does not imply belief in his piety, for this [concealment] only prevents knowledge of his drinking.
Among those acts that are prohibited is perfecting one’s prayer in front of a person so that the latter thinks well of one, for this is nothing but ostentation. It is also an act of deception because it gives the other person the impression that one is among those who are sincere and humble with Allah while one is in fact indulging in a performance. How can such a one be sincere?
Seeking status through this means is unlawful, and so is seeking status through any offensive act. Seeking status through an offensive act is analogous to acquiring unlawful wealth. Just as a person is not allowed to take possession of someone else’s property by cheating in indemnification or in any other deal, so it is unlawful to take possession of a person’s heart by means of forgery or cheating; this because the possession of hearts is a more serious matter than the possession of properties.
We mention this only so that one knows how to treat the love of status and the fear of condemnation. This is because a cause which is unknown cannot possibly be treated, for real treatment is nothing other than ending the causes of the disease.
Know that there are several reasons for the love of status and the heart’s joy in it.
The first and most powerful reason is the soul’s sense of perfection; and we have shown that perfection is cherished. Consequently, praise makes the praised person’s soul feel perfect. Here, a person’s joy is greater when the praise issues from a person who is knowledgeable and acquainted with these [praised] traits, a person who would not arbitrarily speak without proper verification. An example would be a pupil’s happiness with his teacher’s praise. [Praise which emanates from such people] is the acme of joy. For the same reason a person also loathes condemnation, and this loathing becomes all the greater when the condemnation emanates from a trusted, knowledgeable person.
Secondly, praise indicates that the heart of the praiser is possessed by the praised one, and that the former is a follower of the latter. The possession of hearts is something cherished and the feeling of its attainability brings joy. Moreover, this joy is greater when the praise emanates from a person of considerable power, and it weakens when the one who is praising has no weight. For the same reason, a person hates condemnation and his heart becomes offended.
Thirdly, the laudation of the one who is lauding and the praise of the one who is praising are means for captivating the heart of an audience, especially if they are among those whose words are taken into consideration and whose praise is highly valued.
All these factors might be present in the praise of a single praising person, so that the joy ensuing from such praise becomes greater. However, the first joy – the sense of perfection – is abandoned when the praised one knows that the praising person is not correct, as is the case when one is praised for being a man of knowledge when one knows that one is not. And the second joy – taking possession of the heart of the one who is praising – is also relinquished when one knows that the one who is praising does not believe in what he says, and when one knows that one does not truly possess the gifts that are being praised. In this case, all joys are annulled.
Healing the love of status
The one whose heart is overwhelmed by the love of status devotes himself completely to playing up to those he is infatuated with so as to gain their esteem. To this end, he indulges in performances for their sake, and always pays heed, in his speech and actions, to what magnifies his standing in their eyes. This is the seed of hypocrisy and the root of corruption which inevitably lead to making light of acts of worship, using them for display, and indulging in what is prohibited for the sake of hunting hearts.
Now, anyone who seeks a position in people’s hearts is forced to be deceitful with them and to display praiseworthy traits that he does not have; and this is the very essence of hypocrisy. Love of status, therefore, is among those perils which ought to be healed and driven from the heart. This because the heart has a natural propensity for status, just as it is naturally disposed towards the love of wealth. Its treatment is a synthesis of knowledge and action.
With regard to knowledge, a person should know the reason why he loves status. This can only be because he seeks full power over other people and especially their hearts. Even when this is sought for good and sincere purposes, status will end at death, for it is not among the everlasting good deeds. Hence, man should never leave the din, which is the eternal life, for its sake.
Love of status can also be healed by knowing its this-worldly defects, in essence by contemplating the dangers to which people of status are exposed. For everyone endowed with status is envied, and is always a target of hurt, constantly in fear for his status and wary that his position in people’s hearts might change. Moreover, such hearts are more prone to change than [the contents of] a cooking pot when it is boiling, and are always wavering between responsiveness and avoidance. Hence, anything resting on people’s hearts is like something built on the waves of the sea: it has no stability. The preoccupation with paying deference to [other people’s] hearts, protecting one’s status, ending others’ sly resentful envy and obstructing the hurt of one’s enemies, are all immediate anxieties which disturb the pleasure of status. This is then the healing [of status] as far as knowledge is concerned.
As for [its healing by means of] action, it consists of finding intimacy in anonymity and being content with the Creator’s responsiveness by eliminating one’s greed for what people have. Indeed, the content person can dispense with other people, and once he does so his heart is not preoccupied with them, nor does establishing his position in their hearts carry any weight. A person cannot give up seeking status unless he is content and gives up his greed for what people have. He can, however, seek help in the hadiths relating to the condemnation of status and the praise of anonymity [in order to achieve this contentment].
You should know that most people have perished simply because of their fear of others’ condemnation and their love of others’ praise. Consequently, all their actions became responses to what pleases other people so that they could win their praise and avoid their criticism. Such a state of affairs is lethal and must be treated. In order to treat it you should ask yourself whether or not you truly possess the trait that you are praised for. If you do possess it then this trait is either one that is praised rightly, such as knowledge or piety, or one that is not praised rightly, such as fortune, status and all other such worldly substances. If the trait belongs to the category of worldly substances, then being delighted with it is like being delighted with the plants of the earth which before long will turn into chaff, only to be blown away by the wind. This can only be attributed to weak mental faculties, for the one endowed with reason would say, as the poet al-Mutanabbi said long ago:
To me, the sharpest distress lies in a delight
Of whose cessation one is certain.
On the other hand, if the trait is such that a person may rightly be delighted with it, for example knowledge or piety, then he should learn not to be so delighted with it because the way in which his life will be concluded is not known. He may feel delight in possessing such traits because they bring him nearer to Allah, but the danger of concluding his life in disobedience to Allah still remains. The fear of a bad conclusion to one’s life furnishes ample preoccupation from being delighted with all there is in the world. As for being delighted by praise for a trait that one does not possess, this is the height of all folly.
It was indicated earlier that the root cause why people hate being condemned stands at the opposite of that for love of praise. Its treatment, therefore, can be understood therein. We should, however, also say with regard to this question that the one who condemns you belongs to one of the following three states:
[1] Either he is truthful about what he says and his intention is offering you good advice, and he desires to benefit you;
[2] Or he is truthful about what he says, but his intention is to hurt you and to display enmity;
[3] Or he is lying.
Within the first state, if a person is truthful and wants to offer you good advice you should not be angry with him, condemn him, or feel rancour towards him. Rather, you should seize his favour because the one who brings your defects to your attention has indicated to you a source of danger so that you might avoid it. Hence, you should be happy with such a person and proceed, if you can, to remove this blameworthy attribute from yourself. As for any distress, hatred or condemnation felt as a result of this person’s expression, it is nothing but the height of your ignorance.
As for the second context, where a person intends to display enmity, [know that] you have nevertheless benefited from what he has said because he has pointed out to you your defect, should you have been ignorant of it. [Even if you were aware of the defect] he has nevertheless reminded you of it, in case you had become heedless of it; and should this defect have become unobjectionable to you he may have made it look repulsive to you so that your concern to remove it is reawakened. Either way, these are causes for your felicity, for you will derive from them benefit. You should, therefore, occupy yourself with seeking felicity because its means have been provided to you as a result of the criticism you have heard. Had you been about to enter upon a king, unknowingly wearing dirty clothes, and someone shouted at you: “You with the dirty clothes! Go and clean yourself!”, you would have been pleased.
The third context relates to criticism directed against you by someone but from which you are exempt in the sight of Allah, exalted is He. You should not hate such a person nor should you occupy yourself with condemning him. Instead, you should ponder the following three things:
First, even if you are free from the defect which is being attributed to you, you nevertheless are not free from similar defects, indeed your defects that Allah has kept concealed are more abundant. You should, therefore, thank Allah, exalted is He, that He has not revealed your real defects to this person, and led him instead to attribute to you something from which you have been protected.
Second, this accusation may act as an atonement for the rest of your defects; being accused of a defect that you are exempt from cleanses you from other defects that you are defiled with. Moreover, anyone who backbites against you has [by his action] offered you [the outcome of] his good deeds. Why should you feel sad to receive gifts which bring you closer to Allah, exalted is He?
Third, the poor person [who falsely accuses you] has harmed his din to the extent that he made himself fall in the Eyes of Allah and destroyed himself because of his calumny. Hence you should not add your anger to Allah’s wrath; nor let Satan be spiteful with him by causing you to say: “O Allah! Destroy him!” Rather, you should say: “O Allah! Give him uprightness! O Allah! Please forgive him!”
It is reported that Ibrahim ibn Adham once invoked Allah to forgive a man who had fractured his skull. When asked why he did so, he replied: “I know that I am getting a reward thanks to him and that I did not get but good from him. Hence I did not want him to be punished because of me.”
People have four states in relation to the one who praises them and the one who criticises them:
[1] A person may be delighted with the praise, and thank the person who is praising him. He hates condemnation, feels a rancour against the person who condemns him and retaliates against him or at least wishes to do so. This state represents the penultimate degree of offence in this context.
[2] A person may inwardly resent a person who condemns him but refrain from retaliation either in speech or action. Similarly he may inwardly love the one who praises him and feel comfortable with him but equally refrain from displaying any outward delight. This is [a kind of] shortcoming but it is nearer to wholesomeness than is the preceding state.
[3] Next there comes the first degree of wholeness. A person may treat with equal indifference both the one who praises him and the one who condemns him. He is neither grieved by condemnation nor delighted with praise. Many a devotee may think of himself as possessing this state, but he will still be conceited if he does not have the same attitude in all respects with regard to the one who praises him and the one who condemns him. How rare is such a state! And how very hard it is for people’s hearts!
[4] The fourth state, which can be referred to as truthfulness in worship, is that a person should hate praise and detest the person who praises him because he knows that such a person is a [cause of] tribulation that may cause subversion and damage to his din. He should also love the person who condemns him because he knows that it is to his advantage to have his defects identified, as it draws attention to what is beneficial to him.
However, all that people like ourselves can aspire to is the second state.
‘Ostentation’ is seeking status and position by means of acts of worship. Ostentation is unlawful, and the ostentatious person is loathed by Allah. This is evidenced by the verses of the Qur’an, the traditions of the Prophet – peace be upon him – and the traditions of his Companions and their successors.
Within the Qur’an, Allah, exalted is He, says: {Woe, then, unto those praying ones whose hearts from their prayer are remote – those who want only to be seen and praised}[6]. {… But as for those who cunningly devise evil deeds – suffering severe awaits them; and all their devising is bound to come to nought.}[7] [Commenting on this verse] Mujahid said that these were the ostentatious. Allah, exalted is He, also says: {… “We feed you for the sake of God alone: we desire no recompense from you, nor thanks…”}.[8] [In this verse,] Allah praises the sincere by denying [their aspiration for] any wish except the sake of Allah, whereas ostentation is the exact opposite. Allah, exalted is He, also says: {… Hence, whosoever looks forward [with hope and awe] to meeting his Sustainer, let him do righteous deeds, and let him not ascribe unto anyone or anything a share in the worship due to his Sustainer}.[9]
Concerning the traditions of the Prophet – peace be upon him -, it is reported that he – peace be upon him – said: “Whosoever acts with the intention of being heard or seen by people, Allah will cause him to be heard or seen by them but he will not receive His reward.”[10] The Prophet – peace be upon him – also said: “The worst I fear for you is minor associationism (al-shirk al-asghar)”. “What is minor associationism, O Messenger of Allah?” they asked. He replied: “[It is] ostentation; Allah, glorified is He, will say on the Day of Judgement when He repays the servants for their deeds: ‘Go to those with whom you were ostentatious in the world and see whether you find reward with them.’”[11] He – peace be upon him – also said: “Allah, glorified and exalted is He, says: ‘Whosoever performs a deed for My sake but associates in it someone else with Me, that deed will be entirely for the latter; I disavow the doer and I absolutely dispense with associationism.’”[12] The Prophet – peace be upon him – also said: “Allah will extend His mercy [on the Day of Judgement] to seven [kinds of people]”, and he mentioned among them: “… a man who gave alms and concealed his act so that his left hand would not know what his right hand had given.”[13]
As to the traditions of the Companions and their successors, it is reported that `Umar ibn al-Khattab – may Allah be pleased with him – once saw a man bending his head [in prayer], so he said: “O you with the head! Lift your head up, for humility does not lie in heads but in hearts.” Abu Umama al-Bahili – may Allah be pleased with him – saw a man at the mosque crying in his prostration, so he said to him: “What a virtuous person you could have been if only this [crying] had taken place in [the privacy of] your house.” And al-Fudayl ibn `Iyad said: “People used to be ostentatious with deeds they [truly] performed, but now they are ostentatious with deeds they do not perform at all.” And `Ikrima said: “Allah gives more reward for the bondsman’s intention than He does for his action because there can be no ostentation in intention.”
The Arabic word for ostentation (riya’) is derived from ‘seeing’ (ru’ya), and the basis of ostentation is seeking position in people’s hearts by showing them good virtues. Nevertheless, status and position in the heart may be sought by means other than acts of worship just as they are also sought through acts of worship. [The word] ‘ostentation’ (riya’) is restricted through common usage only to seeking position in [people’s] hearts by means of acts of worship and their display. Thus, the definition of ostentation is: ‘seeking bondsmen by means of [displaying] obedience to Allah.’ The person who is ostentatious is the worshipper [who displays his worship]. Manifestations of this ostentation are the virtues which the ostentatious mean to display, and the ostentation itself is their intent to display these virtues.
Although the manifestations of ostentation are abundant, they can all be gathered together in five divisions which sum up all the ways in which a person can show off to others. These five divisions are: the body, attire, speech, action, followers and the external things. Worldly people do indeed display ostentation through these five means, but seeking status through non-worshipping acts is less serious than seeking it by means of acts of worship.
The first division is being ostentatious in din through the body, by showing a thinness and paleness to give the impression that one is striving hard, that one is greatly concerned with the din and is overwhelmed by fear of the Afterlife. By means of such thinness a person gives the impression that he eats little, and by his paleness he gives the impression that he stays awake at night, strives hard [to perform acts of worship] and that he is deeply concerned for the commandments of the din.
The second division is being ostentatious through outward appearance and attire. As for the outward appearance, it is done by dishevelling the hair to give the impression that one is fully absorbed in one’s concern for din and that one lacks the time to comb one’s hair or trim the moustache. It is also done by lowering the head when walking, showing a calmness in movement, leaving the mark which is caused by [repeated] prostration on the brow, wearing rough clothes and rolling them up nearly to the thigh, shortening the sleeves and not cleaning one’s clothes. All these acts are done to give the impression that one follows the sunna and imitates Allah’s righteous bondsmen. The ostentatious through attire belong to different categories, each of which identifies his standing by means of a specific attire and thus finds it difficult to change for what is best or even worse, even if it is permissible, lest people say: ‘he chose asceticism but has given up that path and sought the world’.
The third division is ostentation through speech. The ostentation of the folk of din is achieved in the form of preaching, reminding [others], pronouncing [words of] wisdom and memorising the traditions of the Prophet – peace be upon him -, and those of his Companions and their successors, when the intent behind all this is to display erudition and to.givethe impression that one pays great attention to the states of the righteous salaf. Such people pretend to be immersed in the remembrance [of Allah] in the presence of other people, display their anger against objectionable matters that take place and pretend to be sorry for offences committed by people. Ostentation by speech abounds and its different manifestations are beyond demarcation.
The fourth division is ostentation through action. Such is the case with the one who performs the prayer (salat) and who stands a long time [in each unit of prayer], who prolongs his bowing and prostration, lowers his head and makes a show of serenity. This behaviour also involves other acts of worship such as fasting, jihad, hajj, almsgiving, displays of humility when one is walking or meeting [someone else], and speaking in a dignified manner. Some people even force themselves to walk in a dignified manner whilst on their own; this so that they do not have to alter their gait when they are seen by others. In this way their ostentation is total, for they have become ostentatious even in solitude.
The fifth division is being ostentatious through one’s friends, visitors and acquaintances. Such is the case with the one who goes through much difficulty in order to make a man of knowledge visit him so that it can be said: ‘so-and-so has visited so-and-so’; or such as the person who works hard to achieve a visit from a devotee (`abid) so that it can be said that a pious man has been blessed with his visit. Or the one who often mentions the men of knowledge so that it can.be said that he has met many and received benefit from them, all of which serves him as a means to taking pride in himself.
[The legal ruling on ostentation]
Were you to ask: ‘Is ostentation unlawful, reprehensible or permissible? Or is there some need for elaboration?’,I would answer as follows. If a person is ostentatious by means of things other than acts of worship then this attitude should be viewed in the same manner as seeking wealth. As such, it is not prohibited to seek position in bondsmen’s hearts. However, just as it is possible to acquire wealth by deception and through forbidden means, so too is it possible to acquire status by the same; and just as it is praiseworthy for a man to acquire some wealth for which he is in need, so too may it be praiseworthy to acquire some status with which one can avoid some misfortune. It was for this reason that Yusuf – peace be upon him – asked [for status] when he said: {… I shall be a good and knowing keeper}.[14] Owing to this we would say that refining the clothes that a man wears when he meets people is [a kind of] ostentation, but it is not of the unlawful type, for it is ostentation through [a substance of] the world and not through acts of worship. Analogous to this are all the embellishments and outward beautifications that people choose. They are permissible even if such embellishments and refinements are done in order that one look good in other people’s eyes, avoid their blame and condemnation and find gratification in their respect. For a man has the right to avoid the pain engendered by condemnation and to seek the tranquillity of intimacy with his brothers.
Hence, to be ostentatious by means of acts which are not acts of worship may be permissible, as this can be an act of obedience [to Allah]. It may also, however, be a blameworthy act, depending on the aim through which one seeks to obtain it. In this respect, we should say that if a man spends his wealth on a group of wealthy people not as an act of charity or worship but only so that people believe that he is generous, then he is guilty of an ostentatious act, but it is not in itself unlawful, just as all similar instances are not unlawful.
If ostentation is displayed through acts of worship such as almsgiving, prayer, fasting and hajj, then the person who is ostentatious falls into one of two cases:
First, there is he who by his acts seeks nothing but absolute ostentation, and not reward [from Allah]. In this case his [act of] worship is void, for actions depend on intentions and his intention was not worship. Such an act does not simply nullify the worship, leaving one to assume that the ostentatious person remains as free of sin as he was before performing this act. No, the ostentatious person in this respect is sinning and offending, as is indicated by the verses of the Qur’an and the traditions of the Prophet – peace be upon him – and those of his Companions and their successors. There are two issues regarding this. Firstly, people imagine that the ostentatious person is sincere, that he is obedient to Allah and that he is of the folk of din, whereas in fact he is not. Deceiving in the affairs of the world [it must be remembered] is also unlawful. Secondly, by seeking Allah’s bondsmen through worship of Allah, exalted is He, the ostentatious person is mocking Him. An example of this is the servant who spends an entire day in the presence of a king, as is the servants’ habit, but his presence there is only to watch one of the king’s concubines. This servant is mocking the king, for he did not draw near to serve him, but rather his goal was one of the king’s slaves. Can there be anything more contemptible on the part of the bondsman than harbouring an intent through worship of Allah, exalted is He, to show off to a weak person who holds neither benefit nor harm for him? Is this not proof that the ostentatious person thinks that this person is more capable of fulfilling his goals than Allah; and that he is more deserving to get near to than Allah, for he prefers him to the King of kings and has made him the goal of his worship? This, indeed, is among the major perils, and it is because of this that the Messenger – peace be upon him – called it ‘minor associationism’.
Secondly, there is he who does not intend to draw near to Allah, intending to draw near to other than Him. Upon my life! If such a person were to glorify anyone other than Allah, through prostrating to him, he would be committing plain disbelief (kufr). Moreover, ostentation is a hidden disbelief, because the ostentatious person has glorified other people in his heart, and in some aspect, it is as if these other people are glorified when the ostentatious person prostrates. To the extent that the glorification of Allah through prostration ceases and glorification of other people remains, this amounts to something like associationism.
Such a state of affairs is the pinnacle of ignorance and none shall engage in it except the one whom Satan has deceived; the one whom Satan has deceived into believing that bondsmen have more ability than Allah, exalted is He, to harm him, benefit him, provide him with sustenance and control his life-span.
Some avenues of ostentation are graver and more serious than others, and the difference in ostentation is due to the difference of its pillars and degrees. There are three pillars of ostentation, namely: the object of the ostentation, the purpose of the ostentation and the intention of the ostentation itself.
The intention behind any ostentation has itself four degrees:
The first, which is the most serious, is where a person does not initially intend to gain any reward [from Allah for his action], such as the one who prays when in the company of others so that if he were alone he would never perform the prayer; or even prays with the people but without performing the ritual ablution. Such a person is fully intent upon ostentation and is loathed by Allah, exalted is He. This is the most extreme degree of ostentation.
The second is where the person intends to gain some reward [from Allah for his action] but his intention is weak in the sense that if he were alone he would not perform this action, nor would his intention to gain [His] reward drive him otherwise to perform such an action. This person is similar to the preceding one, and his intention to gain Allah’s reward will neither abolish the offence nor Allah’s loathing.
The third degree is where a person is intent on gaining Allah’s reward and also ostentation, but both purposes are equal in such a way that were either of these intentions to be absent he would not be prompted to perform the action in the first place. Only when both intentions are brought together is this person’s desire [for performing the action] aroused. Alternatively, it could be the case that this person equally intends to obtain [Allah’s] reward and be ostentatious, but the presence of either intention is sufficient for him to perform the action. The act of corruption that such a person effects is equal to the benefit he brings forth. We hope that such a person will [on the Day of Judgement], be simply acquitted, neither possessing a surplus of rewards nor punished for excess sin, or that his reward will equal his sins. Nevertheless, the apparent meaning of the traditions [on this issue] indicates that a person recurrently in this state will not attain salvation.
The fourth is where people’s knowledge [of the performance of an act of worship] favours and enhances a person’s resolve [to perform it], although were they to be ignorant of it he would still not abstain from the performance of that worship. Furthermore, had he solely intended ostentation, he would not have undertaken that act in the first place. We think, and Allah alone knows best, that this person will not be entirely deprived of reward but will not be given it in full; or he might be punished in accordance with the extent of his ostentatious intent and rewarded in accordance with the extent of his intention to gain Allah’s reward. As for the saying of the Prophet -peace be upon him -: “Allah, exalted is He, says: ‘… I absolutely dispense with associationism;’”[15] this should be understood as referring to the instances where the intent for achieving Allah’s reward and the intent for being ostentatious are equal in strength, or where the intent to show off is stronger.
This refers to acts of obedience, and can be divided into two categories:
(i) Being ostentatious through the principles of acts of worship.
(ii) Being ostentatious with the outward performance of acts of worship.
The first category, which is the more serious of the two, entailing displays of ostentation through principles, has three degrees:
The first degree is ostentation in relation to the principle of faith (iman), which is the most serious form of ostentation. The ones who practise it will be cast into Hell for eternity; amongst them will be the one who utters the shahada in public while inwardly being filled with disbelief, the one who simply shows off his compliance to the outward form of Islam. It is to this type of ostentation that Allah, exalted is He, refers to time and again in His Book, such as by His saying, glorified and exalted is He: {When the hypocrites come unto thee, they say, “We bear witness that thou art indeed God’s Apostle!” But God knows that thou art truly His Apostle; and He bears witness that the hypocrites are indeed false.}[16] {Now there is a kind of man whose views on the life of this world may please thee greatly, and [the more so as] he cites God as witness to what is in his heart and is, moreover, exceedingly skilful in argument. But whenever he prevails, he goes about the earth spreading corruption and destroying [man’s] tilth and progeny…}[17] {… And when they meet you, they assert, “We believe [as you believe]”; but when they find themselves alone, they gnaw their fingers in rage against you …}[18] {… They rise reluctantly, only to be seen and praised by men, remembering God but seldom, wavering between this and that.}[19]
In the early days of Islam hypocrisy abounded, for there were people who would embrace Islam outwardly only to achieve some of their own goals. Nowadays, this phenomenon is less common. However, the hypocrisy of those who inwardly slip away from the din, and deny [the reality of] Paradise, Hell and the abode of the Afterlife still abounds, as is the case with heretics. The hypocrisy of those who suspend the authority of the shari`a and the legal ordinances, as is the case with the antinomianists, still abounds, as does the hypocrisy of those who believe in kufr or innovation but who pretend the opposite. This is the summit of hypocrisy and ostentation, and the hypocrites and ostentatious of this type will be eternally cast into Hell. Moreover, the condition of such people is worse than that of the disbelievers who openly declare their disbelief; this because they have combined inward disbelief with outward hypocrisy.
The second degree is being ostentatious with the principles of acts of worship while still believing in the principle of the din. This is also a grave matter with regard to Allah, but it is significantly less serious than the first [degree]. An example of this would be the man who asks the person who acquired his property to pay the zakat due from it, for fear that the latter might condemn him, but Allah knows that had the property remained in his possession he would not have given the zakat out. This person is ostentatious. He possesses the principle of believing in Allah and believes that there is none worthy of worship except Him. Had he been asked to worship any other than Allah or to prostrate himself to other than Him he would have refused. But such a person also abstains from performing acts of worship because of his laziness, and is invigorated only when people see his acts. This person’s standing with his fellowman is dearer to him than his position with his Creator. It is the height of ignorance, and the one who behaves thus deserves loathing even though he has not slipped away from the principle of faith as far as belief (i`tiqad) is concerned.
The third degree does not entail displays of ostentation through belief or [religious] obligations but rather in relation to supererogatory acts and the sunnas (which if a person were to leave he would not be sinning). In other words, this person is lazy in the performance of these acts when alone but performs them when in the company of others. Allah knows that were this person to be alone he would never have performed more than what is obligatory upon him.
This also is a serious matter, but less serious than the two degrees which preceded it, and it further seems to be a ramification of the second degree. The punishment for such behaviour is half the punishment of the second degree of ostentation.
The second category is ostentation through the outward performance of acts of worship and not with its principles, and this is also divided into three degrees.
The first entails displaying ostentation through a deed the abstention from which constitutes a deficiency in the [act of] worship. An example would be the person who intends to shorten his prostration or bowing and curtail his recitation [during prayer], and only when people see him does he perfect the bowing, prostration and the sitting position between the two prostrations. This is also [a form] of prohibited ostentation because it gives precedence to one’s fellowmen over the Creator, but it is less serious than ostentation through the principles of entire supererogatory acts.
The second entails displaying ostentation through a deed the abstention from which does not constitute a deficiency, but the undertaking of which is considered to complete and perfect a person’s worship, such as prolonging the bowing and prostration, assuming an upright posture (i`tidal) [with each act in prayer], and reading more from the Qur’an [than is usual].
The third degree entails displaying ostentation through acts which do not belong to the supererogatory category such as attending prayer in congregation well before other people [arrive at the mosque], standing in the first row and praying on the right side of the imam.
These are, then, the degrees of ostentation which relate to the objects through which ostentation is undertaken. Some of them are worse than others; but all are blameworthy.
In displaying ostentation, the person doing so has inevitably a purpose, such as obtaining wealth, status or some other goal. Such a purpose also has three degrees:
The first, which is the worst and most pernicious, is where a person displays ostentation in order to be in a position to commit an offence. Such is the case of the one who is ostentatious through his acts of worship, who pretends to be pious and righteous by multiplying his supererogatory acts and who abstains from taking properties emanating from doubtful sources, only to be known as a trustworthy person. Once entrusted with the office of judgeship (qada’), [public] endowments (awqaf), trusts and bequests (wasaya), the properties of orphans (mal al-aytam) or mortgage pledges (wada’i`) he will abuse his position and will embezzle money for his own use. Some even wear the attire of Sufis and assume postures of humility when their whole aim is simply to draw near to a woman.
This type of ostentatious person is the most loathed by Allah, exalted is He, because he has used obedience to his Sustainer as a ladder to offend against Him, and has taken this obedience as a tool, store and commodity for his sinfulness.
The second degree is where a person aims at obtaining worldly gain that is in itself lawful, for example property or marriage. An example would be the man who shows how he has suffered affliction, and undertakes the admonition and reminding of people so that he be given money and so that women will desire to marry him. This kind of ostentation is prohibited, for it entails seeking a substance of this worldly life through obedience to Allah; but it is less grave than the previous degree.
The third degree is where a person does not intend to obtain a worldly gain or wealth, but rather displays his worship for fear that he may be thought of as defective and not of the elite and ascetics. Here one would include the person who [usually] walks in a hurried manner but when he is seen by others walks slowly and with gravamen, lest it be said that he does not belong to the community of serious believers. One would likewise include he who joins others in thetarawih or tahajjud prayers for fear that he be accused of laziness and classified as one of the commoners. These too are among the pitfalls of ostentation, for the sincere believer does not care how his fellowmen look at him.
All these degrees of ostentation and ranks of different types of eyeservice are exposed to Allah’s wrath and loathing, exalted is He. Furthermore, ostentation is one of the severest causes of peril; so great is its severity that it contains pitfalls that are more hidden than the creeping of ants.
Ostentation may be either ‘apparent’ or ‘hidden’. The apparent type is that which moves and entices a person to perform an action, even if he seeks [Allah’s] reward, and this is the most apparent form of ostentation. Ostentation which is of a slightly hidden nature is that which in itself does not drive a person to perform an act but which nonetheless eases that action for him by which he seeks the face of Allah. Here, one would include the person who is used to constantly praying in the depths of the night (tahajjud), and who finds it difficult to do so, but who when he has a guest becomes invigorated and thereby finds the practice easier. Yet, this person still knows that had it not been for the expectation of reward from Allah he would not have prayed simply out of a desire to impress his guest.
A more hidden type of ostentation is that which neither affects the action nor makes it easy on the doer, yet is still harboured in the heart. For as long as it does not affect the motive for action, this type of ostentation cannot be noticed except by certain signs. The most apparent sign is when a person is pleased that other people take notice of his acts of worship. For there are many bondsmen who are sincere in their actions, who do not wish to be ostentatious, and in fact hate it, but who, when others notice their actions, are pleased and contented. Such pleasure implies a hidden ostentation, for had these people’s hearts not been turned towards others their pleasure would not have materialised when their actions were noticed.
If these people feel pleasure when others take notice of their actions and if they do not react disapprovingly against these feelings, they will become a source of nourishment and supply for their hidden disposition towards ostentation. This hidden ostentation will continue to grow within them, driving them, albeit subtly, towards means through which their actions are allusively noticed, even though they do not themselves aim for any open declaration of ostentation. It might also be that these people do not call others to notice their actions whether through allusion or by open declaration, but instead do so via outward manifestations of habit, for example by displaying thinness, paleness, lowering their voice, tear-stained faces and revealing signs of sleepiness to give the impression that they pray at length at night .
Even more hidden than this is the case where a person hides away and does not wish people to notice his action and indeed would be unhappy if they were to notice it. Despite all this, however, he likes others to greet him first, to respect him and be cheerful with him whenever he encounters them, and equally becomes vexed if he is neglected by others. Now, had it not been for this person’s previous practice of pious deeds, he would not have found it unlikely that people would be neglectful of him. Moreover, if the practice of an act of worship in relation to others is not equal to its non-practice then the person performing the act is not content with Allah’s knowledge of it, and thus is not immune from the hidden blemish of ostentation, that which is ‘more hidden than the creeping of ants’.
The sincere are always wary of hidden ostentation, making an effort to dupe people about their good acts and concealing them more than others insist upon hiding their vices, all in the hope that their righteous deeds may be sincere. Allah will reward them on the Day of Judgement for their sincerity that was open in front of people, because they knew that Allah will not accept on that Day any act except that which is sincerely accomplished for His sake. [On that Day]neither property nor progeny will be of any avail; it will be a Day when a father will not give ransom for his son and when even the truthful will be preoccupied with themselves, each one saying: “Me, me!”
Indeed, the pitfalls of hidden ostentation are multifarious and beyond count.
If you were to say: “But no one can escape feeling delight when his pious deeds are disclosed, therefore is delighting to be condemned entirely or only partially?”, know that such delighting can be either praiseworthy or blameworthy. As for that which is praiseworthy, it can be divided into four categories.
First, a person’s aim may be to hide his good act and to be sincere to Allah. However, when others learn of his act he will know also that it was Allah Who disclosed it to them and that it was He Who revealed his good. Hence this person takes this disclosure as implying Allah’s good treatment of him and His care about him, for He concealed his sins and disclosed his good deeds. Consequently, this person becomes delighted only at Allah’s good treatment of him, and not as a result of anyone else’s praise of him or because he has acquired a position in their hearts.
Second is the person who deduces from Allah’s good treatment of him and His concealment of his repulsive deeds in this world that Allah will treat him in the same way in the life-to-come. For Allah’s Messenger – peace be upon him – said: “Allah shall not conceal a bondsman’s sin in this world without concealing it in the Afterlife.”[20] Hence this person’s delight is as a result of this.
Third, a person might think that those to whom his good action is disclosed will want to emulate it. Consequently his reward will multiply, for he will be rewarded for what he disclosed at a later stage and also rewarded for concealing what he initially intended. Expecting this is deserving of delight.
Fourth, those to whom the good act is disclosed may praise the doer for that act. He will be delighted at their pious deed, which is accomplished by praising him and showing love to such an obedient person, and also for the inclination of their own hearts towards obedience of Allah. Here the sign of sincerity is that a person is just as delighted at people praising others as he is when they praise him.
As for that delight which is blameworthy, know that it is a person’s delight for the rising of his position in other people’s heart so that they praise, love, and revere him, attend to his needs and treat him with deference. This type of delight is blameworthy.
And Allah, exalted is He, knows best.
When a bondsman is resolved to perform an act of worship with sincerity but then senses the insinuation of ostentation, this insinuation can occur either before or after completing the act. If he feels a simple delight at the disclosure of the act after completing it but does not show this delight, then the act is not invalidated, for the act itself was initially carried out with sincerity and was free from ostentation. It is further hoped that what takes place after completing the act does not have an effect, especially if the bondsman does not make an effort to show or speak about his deed. In this instance, the act’s disclosure coincides with Allah’s wanting it to be known. What the bondsman himself has done is simply to experience a delight and comfort in his own heart.
True, if the person were to feel a desire to disclose his act, to show and speak about it after he initially carried it out with sincerity and without any ostentatious intent, then he ought to fear for himself. But if the insinuation of ostentation takes place before completing the prayer, for instance, even though the person is initially sincere, then the delight that might be felt as a result can be either one that does not affect the act, or the kind of ostentation that drives a person to act. If it is the latter, and the person completes his act of worship with the same disposition, his reward will be nullified. However, if the insinuation of ostentation does not prevent him from intending to complete the act for the sake of achieving [Allah’s] reward, then it will not invalidate the action. That is, provided that its effect is not reflected on the action itself, that the undertaking of the action remains motivated by the din, and that the delight that this person feels is just supplemented. The action is not invalidated in this case because this person’s initial intent is not nullified, and it was this intention which motivated him and drove his action in the first place.
From what has been indicated above, you will realise that ostentation thwarts action, that it is a cause for Allah’s loathing, exalted is He, and that it is one of the qualities which lead to peril. Therefore it is right that one’s zeal should be turned to removing it, even [if this can only be done] through effort and hardship. This because there is no recovery except through swallowing a bitter medicine, and this is one type of striving to which all people are forced. None can do without this strife, and although it is initially hard, it becomes easier. There are two stages in the treatment of ostentation: eradicating its roots and sources, and driving away that which occurs immediately.
The first stage is the eradication of roots and sources. The basis of this vice is love of position and status. Namely, the joy of being praised, escape from the pain of condemnation, and desiring what other people possess.
That these are the causes of ostentation and the motive which drives the ostentatious is substantiated by the report of Abu Musa where a Bedouin asked the Prophet – peace be upon him: “O Messenger of Allah! A man who fights driven by hamiyya (i.e. he resents being defeated or condemned as being defeated or beaten), a man who fights to acquire position (one who seeks the joy of status and esteem in others’ hearts), and a man who fights so that he be talked about (one who enjoys the verbal praises of others), are they fighting for the sake of Allah?”.He – peace be upon him – replied: “Whosoever fights so that Allah’s Word prevails is fighting for the sake of Allah.”[21]
These three things are what drive the ostentatious to play up to others, and the cure is that which was identified in the first section of this book.[22] Here, we will mention only that which is particular to ostentation. It is obvious that a human being seeks and desires something only if he thinks that in that thing lies his good, and that it is beneficial and delightful. If he realises that this thing is immediately delightful, but subsequently harmful, it is easy for him to give up his desire for it.
So, if a person were to realise the harmful effect of ostentation, and what he will miss in terms of his heart’s uprightness and what he will be deprived of in terms of immediate success and of rank in the eyes of Allah in the hereafter and his exposure to great chastisement, severe loathing and outright disgrace, [he will consequently avoid ostentation]. For so long as a bondsman meditates on this disgrace, compares what he will get from other people with what he is going to miss in the Afterlife and compares this with the thwarted reward of his actions, knowing that a single, sincere act might preponderate in the balance of his good deeds, and that if it is corrupted with ostentation it will be transferred to his offences, then he will realise that had there been in ostentation nothing except the thwarting of a single devotional act, that would be enough to make its harm plain. Furthermore, if his good deeds preponderate he will obtain high rank in the sight of Allah, exalted is He. Moreover, why should a person seek others’ praise and Allah’s condemnation when he knows that the praise of others will add neither to his sustenance nor his life-span? Nor will their praise benefit him at the time of his extreme need and poverty on the Day of Judgement.
As for desiring what other people possess, this can be dealt with by realising that it is Allah, exalted is He, Who commands people’s hearts to give or hold back, that people in this respect are not free, that there is no Lord except Allah, and that a person who covets what other people have will not reap anything except humiliation and disappointment. So how can someone then leave what is with Allah for false fancy and ill-founded expectation?
As for other people’s condemnation, why should anyone be wary of it? Other people’s condemnation of one will not add anything that Allah has not already decreed. Nor will such condemnation hasten the end of one’s life-span or delay one’s sustenance.
If a person inwardly admits the defect and damage of these causes, his desire will slacken, and he will be wholeheartedly devoted to Allah, for a person endowed with reason will not desire something whose harm is great and whose benefit is small.
Moreover, at the beginning of this chapter we expounded upon the cures related to knowledge which uproot the very foundations of ostentation. As for a practical cure, this consists of accustoming oneself to concealing acts of worship and not disclosing them to others, just as one would not disclose one’s bad habits. This is because there is no cure for ostentation like concealment.
The second stage involves driving away the insinuation of ostentation that comes to mind while performing devotional acts. This also needs to be learnt, because even a person who strives against himself, who eradicates the foundations of ostentation from his heart by means of contentment, elimination of greed, not seeking others’ esteem, and showing contempt for others’ praise and condemnation, will not be spared by Satan when he is practising devotional acts. On the contrary, Satan will expose him to the insinuations of ostentation, and his incitement to evil will not stop. Furthermore, the soul’s caprice and its inclination [to seek others’ praise] cannot be completely effaced. Hence it is necessary that a person’s zeal be turned towards driving away whatever such insinuations come into his consciousness.
Such insinuations of ostentation are threefold. They may either come to mind in one go, or present themselves in succession.
The first insinuation concerns knowing that others have taken notice of one’s action and hoping that they might take notice of it. This is then followed by the soul’s strong desire for other people’s praise and for obtaining a position amongst them. This is followed by a strong desire for the soul to accept it, to be confident with it and to be resolved to achieve it. The first is a state of awareness (ma`rifa), the second is a state of pleasure and desire, and the third is an intention and resolve.
The greatest form of strength lies in suppressing the first insinuation and driving it away before it is followed by the second. If this occurs, the person concerned should drive such notions away by considering that regardless of whether other people know about his act or not, Allah nevertheless knows his state. So what benefit is there in other people’s knowledge of his act?
If a person longs for the joy of being praised, he should remember the defect of ostentation which permeated his heart before, and remember his exposure to Allah’s loathing on Judgement Day. Knowledge of the defects of ostentation will arouse a dislike capable of opposing that desire. Desire calls him to accept ostentation, while dislike calls him to reject it, and the soul will inevitably obey that which is stronger and overwhelming. Hence, in order to drive away ostentation one needs [to be able to recognise] three things: namely, an awareness, a dislike and a rejection. Rejection is the result of dislike, and dislike is the result of awareness.
You may ask this question: ‘[What about] someone who dislikes ostentation and rejects it, but who is nevertheless still not free from an inclination towards it, a love of it and an inner fight against it? This even though he dislikes such love and inclination. Is this person still to be counted among the ostentatious?’
[In response] you should know that Allah has charged His servant only with what he can endure, and it is not in the servant’s power to stop Satan’s evil insinuations, nor to suppress any natural disposition to the point that he does not incline towards desire. All that a person is required to do is to meet his desire with a dislike, and if he does so, then he has accomplished the goal behind fulfilling what he is [legally] bound with.
This is evidenced by the Companions’ complaints to the Prophet – peace be upon him. One of them once said: “It would be better for us to be thrown down from the sky than to repeat some of the things that occur to our hearts.” The Prophet – peace be upon him – asked: “Does this occur to you?” “Yes!” he replied. “That is the solid iman”, he replied.[23] [Note that] they experienced only evil insinuations and felt a dislike for them. Now, it cannot be said that the Prophet – peace be upon him – referred to these insinuations as ‘the concrete iman’. Therefore, the only interpretation of the meaning of this expression is that it refers to having devilish insinuations which one follows with a dislike.
Despite being vile, ostentation is less grave than devilish insinuations with regard to Allah, exalted is He. Now, if the harm of something vile is driven away by simple dislike, what is less serious is more likely to be easily driven away by the same.
[Wariness of Satan]
If you were to say: ‘One cannot be safe from Satan’s evil insinuations; therefore, should one be on guard before he is present so that one might be wary of him? Or, should one rely on Allah so that He be the One Who drives him away? Or, should one busy oneself with worship and forget about him?’
With regard to these questions three different opinions are held. A group [of scholars] from Basra were of the opinion that the [spiritually] strong do without such a wariness of Satan, because they have devoted themselves to Allah and have preoccupied themselves with His love, and as a result Satan leaves them alone, having despaired of them. Another group [of scholars] from the Levant held the view that vigilance, in wariness of Satan, is necessary only for those whose certainty [in Allah] is weak and whose reliance [tawakkul] is lacking. This is because the one who has certainty that there is no partner with Allah in His providence will not be wary of any other than Allah, exalted and glorified is He. Yet another group of scholars advanced the view that wariness of Satan is indispensable, and that the Basran opinion is almost tantamount to a satanic deception. This because the Prophets themselves – peace be upon them – were not immune from Satan’s enticements and evil insinuations, so how could others be immune from these things?
Furthermore, not all evil insinuations concern pleasures and love of the world; they can also be about God’s attributes and names, and about innovations, misguidance and other things. No-one is immune from the danger of such things, which is why Allah, exalted is He, says: {Yet whenever We sent forth any apostle or prophet before thee, and he was hoping [that his warning would be heeded], Satan would cast an aspersion on his innermost aims: but God renders null and void whatever aspersion Satan may cast; and God makes His messages clear in and by themselves – for He is all-knowing, wise}.[24] And the Prophet – peace be upon him – said: “My heart does sometimes feel slackness and heedlessness …”,[25] and this despite the fact that his shaytan had become a Muslim and would not command him to do anything except that which was good.
Now, anyone who thinks that his preoccupation with the love of Allah is greater than that of Allah’s Messenger – peace be upon him – and that of all the prophets – peace be upon them – is in the grip of vainglory. Even in their complete immersion in divine love, none of these people felt immune from Satan’s ruse. It is for this reason that Adam and Eve were not spared it [even] in Paradise which is the very abode of peace and joy. Furthermore, Musa, peace be upon him, said, as reported by Allah, exalted is He–: {... “This is of Satan’s doing!”…};[26] and this is why Allah warns all His creatures against him when He, exalted is He, says: {O children of Adam! Do not allow Satan to seduce you in the same way as he caused your ancestors to be driven out of the Garden…}.[27] Moreover, the whole Qur’an, from beginning to end, is a warning against Satan; and this being the case, how can anyone be safe from him?
On the other hand, a wariness of Satan does not contradict one’s preoccupation with the love of Allah, as part of this love is to obey Allah’s command, exalted is He, to be wary of unbelievers and of Satan. Nor does this wariness of Satan contradict complete reliance [on Allah, exalted is He].
Wearing armour, using weapons, gathering an army and digging a trench did not impair the reliance [tawakkul] of Allah’s Messenger – peace be upon him – so how can taking guard from that which Allah has warned against impair reliance on Him? This is the opinion of al-Harith al-Muhasibi – may Allah have mercy on his soul – and it is the right opinion which is attested to by the light of knowledge, whereas other opinions seem to be the words of servants whose knowledge was not vast.
In keeping one’s acts secret there is the benefit of sincerity and safety from ostentation, while in revealing them there is the benefit of inspiring imitation and awakening other people’s desire to do good; and yet this may entail the defect of ostentation. It is for this reason that Allah, exalted is He, praises [the use of] both secrecy and openness when he says: {If you do deeds of charity openly, it is well; but if you bestow it upon the needy in secret, it will be even better for you…}.[28]
The showing of [one’s acts] is of two divisions: one concerns the action itself, and the other the disclosure of the action to others.
This concerns showing the action itself, such as openly giving alms, in order to awaken other people’s desire to do so, as was reported about the Ansari who had come with a bag of money, so that upon seeing him other people followed suit, with the result that the Prophet – peace be upon him – said: “Whosoever introduces a good sunna which is carried on by others, will have a reward for initiating the deed and also the equivalent reward of all those who follow his example.”[29] This applies to all actions.
The one who shows his action has two duties. The first is to show it where he thinks that his example is going to be followed, or at least likely to be followed. Many a man is imitated by his family and not by his neighbours, or perhaps by his neighbours and not by those who frequent the marketplace. Showing deeds for others to follow is valid only if done by a person who is in a position to prompt others to imitate his deeds. The second duty is for this person to keep his heart in check, for it may well harbour a love of hidden ostentation. Such a love would induce him to show his action under the pretext of awakening other people’s desire to follow suit, while his real desire is to brighten his own reputation through displaying his deeds and through being imitated by others. This is the state of all those who disclose their deeds, except for the sincere and strong; and they are very few. The weak should not deceive themselves with such notions, which would destroy them unawares.
This concerns disclosing one’s deed after completing it. The ruling on this is the same as the case of disclosing the action itself. In fact, the danger inherent here is more serious because speech is easy on the tongue, and it may well happen that one exaggerates what happened. The soul finds great joy in disclosing claimed actions, although if ostentation does creep in it would not invalidate the devotional act already performed. In this sense it is less serious than disclosing the action itself.
The ruling on such disclosure is that it is permissible, indeed praiseworthy, provided that the person who does so has a strong heart, that his sincerity is complete, that he pays little attention to other people and that their praise and condemnation are of equal weight to him. That is, so long as the intention is pure and the action free from all defects.
A similar situation to this was reported from a group of strong salaf. `Umar, may Allah be pleased with him, said: “I do not care whether I get up in the morning to face hardship or comfort, because I do not know which is better for me”. Ibn Mas`ud said: “I never reached a state and wished for another.”
All these are examples of the disclosure of exalted states, and such utterances can entail serious ostentation if they come from a person who speaks thus for the sake of display, just as there is in them the ultimate awakening of people’s desire for goodness if they proceed from someone who is imitated in his deeds.
Indeed the ostentatious disclosure of devotional acts brings much benefit for others, particularly if the latter do not know that it is ostentation. But it has evil consequences for the ostentatious themselves. Many a sincere person imitates, because of his sincerity, the one who is ostentatious in the eyes of Allah.
It is reported that a certain man used to hear the voices of people praying as they read the Qur’an from their houses every morning as he passed through the roads of Basra. Someone then wrote a book on the subtle aspects of ostentation, so those people gave up reading the Qur’an out loud and consequently people’s desire for it waned. They used to say: ‘We wish that that book had never been written!’
Hence the disclosures of an ostentatious person may carry much good for others – that is if his ostentation is not known – and “Indeed Allah may support thisdin with the help of the corrupt man,”[30] and also “… with the help of people without any share [of the good things of the Afterlife]”[31].
A person is rarely free from committing sins with either his heart or limbs, and he always tends to conceal these and to dislike their being noticed by others. He might think that their concealment is a prohibited act of ostentation while it is not. What is prohibited, however, is concealing sins so that other people think he is pious, and this is what constitutes the concealment of the ostentatious.
A person may well conceal his offences and have a valid intention in doing so. Equally valid may be his anxiety when other people take notice of his offences. This is due to different considerations, some of which are as follows:
First, he should be delighted with Allah’s concealment of his sins owing to the hadith: “Whensoever Allah conceals someone’s sin in this world, He shall conceal it for him in the Afterlife,”[32] and this emanates from a strong iman.
Second, he knows that Allah dislikes the disclosure of offences, preferring instead their concealment. Hence, even if he has committed an offence, his heart will not be devoid of liking what Allah likes. This grows out of a strong iman in Allah’s dislike of the disclosure of offences. The sign of sincerity in all this is when the person equally dislikes other people’s sins being disclosed.
Third, shame (haya’) is a noble trait and a praiseworthy attribute. The Prophet -peace be upon him – said: “Shame (haya’) is good on all accounts.”[33]Therefore, the one who engages in vice and does not care if it is revealed to others, has added insolence and lack of shame to the sin itself. Such a person’s state is worse than that of someone who commits sins but is ashamed of committing them and who conceals his offences.
Fourth, he should be wary of his sin’s disclosure, lest others dare do the same so that he has set a bad precedent.
Some people abstain from good works for fear of seeming ostentatious. This is wrong, and is an attitude which is a submission to Satan. Abstaining from an action for fear that it might be said: ‘he is ostentatious’, is in fact itself a form of ostentation. This because if one did not love other people’s praise and fear their condemnation, one would not have minded their opinion that one was ostentatious or sincere.
Furthermore, what difference is there between abstaining from an action for fear of being accused of ostentation and performing an action for fear of being accused of heedlessness and neglect? In fact, abstaining from the good action is more serious. All this is part of Satan’s ruse against ignorant worshippers (`ubbad).
You should know that it might be that a man spends the night somewhere with other people, and they, or some of them, happen to get up for the night prayer (tahajjud), and upon seeing them his desire to follow their example is aroused, beyond what he normally performs in the way of night prayer. Or, it may be that he joins those people in their prayer when he is not accustomed at all to praying at night. This could well be considered as ostentation, and may require that this person does not join in. But such is not the case. This is so because each believer desires to worship Allah, exalted is He, to pray at night and to fast during the day, but he may well be obstructed from doing so. His work may stop him from engaging in such acts, or it may be that heedlessness has enchanted him. Hence, it may well be that seeing others brings an end to his heedlessness, or that all obstacles and preoccupations cease in some places and his resolve be aroused.
The first thing that a disciple needs to restrain his heart with at all times is his contentment with Allah’s knowledge about all his good acts. No-one shall be content with Allah’s exclusive knowledge but he who fears Allah and whose hope is towards Him. As for the one who fears other than Him and whose hope is directed towards other than Him, he desires that others take notice of his good state of affairs. If one is at this level, one should force one’s heart to hate it from the point of view both of reason and of iman, owing to the danger of exposing oneself to Allah’s loathing.
One should keep oneself in check while performing great, hard devotional acts which others are unable to perform. This because the soul is then almost boiling for want of divulging such acts. In such matters, one needs to keep one’s feet firmly grounded, and remember that in return for one’s great deeds, there will be the greatness of the kingdom of the Afterlife, the bounty of Paradise and its everlasting bliss; but that there shall be the rigour of Allah’s wrath and loathing for the one who seeks a reward from mere creatures by means of His obedience.
One should hold one’s heart to this truth after completing the action so that one does not disclose it or speak about it to others. And even when one has done all this, one should remain afraid for one’s deeds, and be in fear that they have been tainted with hidden ostentation of which one was entirely unaware.
1 Al-Qasas: 83.
2 Hud: 15-16.
3 Narrated by Muslim with the following wording: “Many a dishevelled man who would be turned back from people’s houses, were he to adjure Allah to do something He would bring it to pass for him”.
4 Bukhari and Muslim.
5 Yusuf: 55.
6 Al-Ma`un: 4-6.
7 Fatir: 10.
8 Al-Insan: 9.
9 Al-Kahf: 110.
10 Bukhari and Muslim.
11 Narrated by Ahmad and al-Bayhaqi.
12 Narrated by Malik without the expression “I disavow the doer” and also narrated by Muslim and Ibn Maja.
13 Bukhari and Muslim.
14 Yusuf: 55.
15 Narrated by Muslim.
16 Al-Munafiqun: 1.
17 Al-Baqara: 204-205.
18 Al `Imran: 119.
19 Al-Nisa’: 142-143
20 Narrated by Muslim.
21 Bukhari and Muslim.
22 Cf. the section on status above.
23 Narrated by Muslim.
24 Al-Hajj: 52.
25 Narrated by Muslim, and the continuation of the hadith is “… and I do seek forgiveness from God a hundred times a day.” Commenting on this hadith al-Qadi `Iyad says that it refers to an abatement about and distraction from the dhikr that he used to practise continuously. He used to consider distraction from such supererogatory acts a sin from which he had to seek forgiveness.
26 Al-Qasas: 15.
27 Al-A`raf: 27.
28 Al-Baqara: 271.
29 Narrated by Muslim.
30 Bukhari and Muslim.
31 Narrated by Muslim.
32 Narrated by Muslim.
33 Narrated by Muslim.
‘Blood is no argument’, as Shakespeare observed. Sadly, Muslim ranks are today swollen with those who disagree. The World Trade Centre, yesterday’s symbol of global finance, has today become a monument to the failure of global Islam to control those who believe that the West can be bullied into changing its wayward ways towards the East. There is no real excuse to hand. It is simply not enough to clamour, as many have done, about ‘chickens coming home to roost’, and to protest that Washington’s acquiescence in Israeli policies of ethnic cleansing is the inevitable generator of such hate. It is of course true – as Shabbir Akhtar has noted – that powerlessness can corrupt as insistently as does power. But to comprehend is not to sanction or even to empathize. To take innocent life to achieve a goal is the hallmark of the most extreme secular utilitarian ethic, and stands at the opposite pole of the absolute moral constraints required by religion.
There was a time, not long ago, when the ‘ultras’ were few, forming only a tiny wart on the face of the worldwide attempt to revivify Islam. Sadly, we can no longer enjoy the luxury of ignoring them. The extreme has broadened, and the middle ground, giving way, is everywhere dislocated and confused. And this enfeeblement of the middle ground, was what was enjoined by the Prophetic example, is in turn accelerated by the opprobrium which the extremists bring not simply upon themselves, but upon committed Muslims everywhere. For here, as elsewhere, the preferences of the media work firmly against us. David Koresh could broadcast his fringe Biblical message from Ranch Apocalypse without the image of Christianity, or even its Adventist wing, being in any way besmirched. But when a fringe Islamic group bombs Swedish tourists in Cairo, the muck is instantly spread over ‘militant Muslims’ everywhere.
If these things go on, the Islamic movement will cease to form an authentic summons to cultural and spiritual renewal, and will exist as little more than a splintered array of maniacal factions. The prospect of such an appalling and humiliating end to the story of a religion which once surpassed all others in its capacity for tolerating debate and dissent is now a real possibility. The entire experience of Islamic work over the past fifteen years has been one of increasing radicalization, driven by the perceived failure of the traditional Islamic institutions and the older Muslim movements to lead the Muslim peoples into the worthy but so far chimerical promised land of the ‘Islamic State.’
If this final catastrophe is to be averted, the mainstream will have to regain the initiative. But for this to happen, it must begin by confessing that the radical critique of moderation has its force. The Islamic movement has so far been remarkably unsuccessful. We must ask ourselves how it is that a man like Nasser, a butcher, a failed soldier and a cynical demagogue, could have taken over a country as pivotal as Egypt, despite the vacuity of his beliefs, while the Muslim Brotherhood, with its pullulating millions of members, should have failed, and failed continuously, for six decades. The radical accusation of a failure in methodology cannot fail to strike home in such a context of dismal and prolonged inadequacy.
It is in this context – startlingly, perhaps, but inescapably – that we must present our case for the revival of the spiritual life within Islam. If it is ever to prosper, the ‘Islamic revival’ must be made to see that it is in crisis, and that its mental resources are proving insufficient to meet contemporary needs. The response to this must be grounded in an act of collective muhasaba, of self-examination, in terms that transcend the ideologised neo-Islam of the revivalists, and return to a more classical and indigenously Muslim dialectic.
Symptomatic of the disease is the fact that among all the explanations offered for the crisis of the Islamic movement, the only authentically Muslim interpretation, namely, that God should not be lending it His support, is conspicuously absent. It is true that we frequently hear the Quranic verse which states that “God does not change the condition of a people until they change the condition of their own selves.”[1] But never, it seems, is this principle intelligently grasped. It is assumed that the sacred text is here doing no more than to enjoin individual moral reform as a precondition for collective societal success. Nothing could be more hazardous, however, than to measure such moral reform against the yardstick of the fiqh without giving concern to whether the virtues gained have been acquired through conformity (a relatively simple task), or proceed spontaneously from a genuine realignment of the soul. The verse is speaking of a spiritual change, specifically, a transformation of the nafs of the believers – not a moral one. And as the Blessed Prophet never tired of reminding us, there is little value in outward conformity to the rules unless this conformity is mirrored and engendered by an authentically righteous disposition of the heart. ‘No-one shall enter the Garden by his works,’ as he expressed it. Meanwhile, the profoundly judgemental and works – oriented tenor of modern revivalist Islam (we must shun the problematic buzz-word ‘fundamentalism’), fixated on visible manifestations of morality, has failed to address the underlying question of what revelation is for. For it is theological nonsense to suggest that God’s final concern is with our ability to conform to a complex set of rules. His concern is rather that we should be restored, through our labours and His grace, to that state of purity and equilibrium with which we were born. The rules are a vital means to that end, and are facilitated by it. But they do not take its place.
To make this point, the Holy Quran deploys a striking metaphor. In Sura Ibrahim, verses 24 to 26, we read:
Have you not seen how God coineth a likeness: a goodly word like a goodly tree, the root whereof is set firm, its branch in the heaven? It bringeth forth its fruit at every time, by the leave of its Lord. Thus doth God coin likenesses for men, that perhaps they may reflect. And the likeness of an evil word is that of an evil tree that hath been torn up by the root from upon the earth, possessed of no stability.
According to the scholars of tafsir (exegesis), the reference here is to the ‘words’ (kalima) of faith and unfaith. The former is illustrated as a natural growth, whose florescence of moral and intellectual achievement is nourished by firm roots, which in turn denote the basis of faith: the quality of the proofs one has received, and the certainty and sound awareness of God which alone signify that one is firmly grounded in the reality of existence. The fruits thus yielded – the palpable benefits of the religious life – are permanent (‘at every time’), and are not man’s own accomplishment, for they only come ‘by the leave of its Lord’. Thus is the sound life of faith. The contrast is then drawn with the only alternative: kufr, which is not grounded in reality but in illusion, and is hence ‘possessed of no stability’.[2]
This passage, reminiscent of some of the binary categorisations of human types presented early on in Surat al-Baqara, precisely encapsulates the relationship between faith and works, the hierarchy which exists between them, and the sustainable balance between nourishment and fructition, between taking and giving, which true faith must maintain.
It is against this criterion that we must judge the quality of contemporary ‘activist’ styles of faith. Is the young ‘ultra’, with his intense rage which can sometimes render him liable to nervous disorders, and his fixation on a relatively narrow range of issues and concerns, really firmly rooted, and fruitful, in the sense described by this Quranic image?
Let me point to the answer with an example drawn from my own experience.
I used to know, quite well, a leader of the radical ‘Islamic’ group, the Jama’at Islamiya, at the Egyptian university of Assiut. His name was Hamdi. He grew a luxuriant beard, was constantly scrubbing his teeth with his miswak, and spent his time preaching hatred of the Coptic Christians, a number of whom were actually attacked and beaten up as a result of his khutbas. He had hundreds of followers; in fact, Assiut today remains a citadel of hardline, Wahhabi-style activism.
The moral of the story is that some five years after this acquaintance, providence again brought me face to face with Shaikh Hamdi. This time, chancing to see him on a Cairo street, I almost failed to recognise him. The beard was gone. He was in trousers and a sweater. More astonishing still was that he was walking with a young Western girl who turned out to be an Australian, whom, as he sheepishly explained to me, he was intending to marry. I talked to him, and it became clear that he was no longer even a minimally observant Muslim, no longer prayed, and that his ambition in life was to leave Egypt, live in Australia, and make money. What was extraordinary was that his experiences in Islamic activism had made no impression on him – he was once again the same distracted, ordinary Egyptian youth he had been before his conversion to ‘radical Islam’.
This phenomenon, which we might label ‘salafi burnout‘, is a recognised feature of many modern Muslim cultures. An initial enthusiasm, gained usually in one’s early twenties, loses steam some seven to ten years later. Prison and torture – the frequent lot of the Islamic radical – may serve to prolong commitment, but ultimately, a majority of these neo-Muslims relapse, seemingly no better or worse for their experience in the cult-like universe of the salafi mindset.
This ephemerality of extremist activism should be as suspicious as its content. Authentic Muslim faith is simply not supposed to be this fragile; as the Qur’an says, its root is meant to be ‘set firm’. One has to conclude that of the two trees depicted in the Quranic image, salafi extremism resembles the second rather than the first. After all, the Sahaba were not known for a transient commitment: their devotion and piety remained incomparably pure until they died.
What attracts young Muslims to this type of ephemeral but ferocious activism? One does not have to subscribe to determinist social theories to realise the importance of the almost universal condition of insecurity which Muslim societies are now experiencing. The Islamic world is passing through a most devastating period of transition. A history of economic and scientific change which in Europe took five hundred years, is, in the Muslim world, being squeezed into a couple of generations. For instance, only thirty-five years ago the capital of Saudi Arabia was a cluster of mud huts, as it had been for thousands of years. Today’s Riyadh is a hi-tech megacity of glass towers, Coke machines, and gliding Cadillacs. This is an extreme case, but to some extent the dislocations of modernity are common to every Muslim society, excepting, perhaps, a handful of the most remote tribal peoples.
Such a transition period, with its centrifugal forces which allow nothing to remain constant, makes human beings very insecure. They look around for something to hold onto, that will give them an identity. In our case, that something is usually Islam. And because they are being propelled into it by this psychic sense of insecurity, rather than by the more normal processes of conversion and faith, they lack some of the natural religious virtues, which are acquired by contact with a continuous tradition, and can never be learnt from a book.
One easily visualises how this works. A young Arab, part of an oversized family, competing for scarce jobs, unable to marry because he is poor, perhaps a migrant to a rapidly expanding city, feels like a man lost in a desert without signposts. One morning he picks up a copy of Sayyid Qutb from a newsstand, and is ‘born-again’ on the spot. This is what he needed: instant certainty, a framework in which to interpret the landscape before him, to resolve the problems and tensions of his life, and, even more deliciously, a way of feeling superior and in control. He joins a group, and, anxious to retain his newfound certainty, accepts the usual proposition that all the other groups are mistaken.
This, of course, is not how Muslim religious conversion is supposed to work. It is meant to be a process of intellectual maturation, triggered by the presence of a very holy person or place. Tawba, in its traditional form, yields an outlook of joy, contentment, and a deep affection for others. The modern type of tawba, however, born of insecurity, often makes Muslims narrow, intolerant, and exclusivist. Even more noticeably, it produces people whose faith is, despite its apparent intensity, liable to vanish as suddenly as it came. Deprived of real nourishment, the activist’s soul can only grow hungry and emaciated, until at last it dies.
How should we respond to this disorder? We must begin by remembering what Islam is for. As we noted earlier, our din is not, ultimately, a manual of rules which, when meticulously followed, becomes a passport to paradise. Instead, it is a package of social, intellectual and spiritual technology whose purpose is to cleanse the human heart. In the Qur’an, the Lord says that on the Day of Judgement, nothing will be of any use to us, except a sound heart (qalbun salim). [3] And in a famous hadith, the Prophet, upon whom be blessings and peace, says that
“Verily in the body there is a piece of flesh. If it is sound, the body is all sound. If it is corrupt, the body is all corrupt. Verily, it is the heart.
Mindful of this commandment, under which all the other commandments of Islam are subsumed, and which alone gives them meaning, the Islamic scholars have worked out a science, an ilm (science), of analysing the ‘states’ of the heart, and the methods of bringing it into this condition of soundness. In the fullness of time, this science acquired the name tasawwuf, in English ‘Sufism’ – a traditional label for what we might nowadays more intelligibly call ‘Islamic psychology.’
At this point, many hackles are raised and well-rehearsed objections voiced. It is vital to understand that mainstream Sufism is not, and never has been, a doctrinal system, or a school of thought – a madhhab. It is, instead, a set of insights and practices which operate within the various Islamic madhhabs; in other words, it is not a madhhab, it is an ilm. And like most of the other Islamic ulum, it was not known by name, or in its later developed form, in the age of the Prophet (upon him be blessings and peace) or his Companions. This does not make it less legitimate. There are many Islamic sciences which only took shape many years after the Prophetic age: usul al-fiqh, for instance, or the innumerable technical disciplines of hadith.
Now this, of course, leads us into the often misunderstood area of sunna and bid’a, two notions which are wielded as blunt instruments by many contemporary activists, but which are often grossly misunderstood. The classic Orientalist thesis is of course that Islam, as an ‘arid Semitic religion’, failed to incorporate mechanisms for its own development, and that it petrified upon the death of its founder. This, however, is a nonsense rooted in the ethnic determinism of the nineteenth century historians who had shaped the views of the early Orientalist synthesizers (Muir, Le Bon, Renan, Caetani). Islam, as the religion designed for the end of time, has in fact proved itself eminently adaptable to the rapidly changing conditions which characterise this final and most ‘entropic’ stage of history.
What is a bid’a, according to the classical definitions of Islamic law? We all know the famous hadith:
Beware of matters newly begun, for every matter newly begun is innovation, every innovation is misguidance, and every misguidance is in Hell. [4]
Does this mean that everything introduced into Islam that was not known to the first generation of Muslims is to be rejected? The classical ulema do not accept such a literalistic interpretation.
Let us take a definition from Imam al-Shafi’i, an authority universally accepted in Sunni Islam. Imam al-Shafi’i writes:
There are two kinds of introduced matters (muhdathat). One is that which contradicts a text of the Qur’an, or the Sunna, or a report from the early Muslims (athar), or the consensus (ijma’) of the Muslims: this is an ‘innovation of misguidance’ (bid’at dalala). The second kind is that which is in itself good and entails no contradiction of any of these authorities: this is a ‘non-reprehensible innovation’ (bid’a ghayr madhmuma). [5]
This basic distinction between acceptable and unacceptable forms of bid’a is recognised by the overwhelming majority of classical ulema. Among some, for instance al-Izz ibn Abd al-Salam (one of the half-dozen or so great mujtahids of Islamic history), innovations fall under the five axiological headings of the Shari’a: the obligatory (wajib), the recommended (mandub), the permissible (mubah), the offensive (makruh), and the forbidden (haram).[6]
Under the category of ‘obligatory innovation’, Ibn Abd al-Salam gives the following examples: recording the Qur’an and the laws of Islam in writing at a time when it was feared that they would be lost, studying Arabic grammar in order to resolve controversies over the Qur’an, and developing philosophical theology (kalam) to refute the claims of the Mu’tazilites.
Category two is ‘recommended innovation’. Under this heading the ulema list such activities as building madrasas, writing books on beneficial Islamic subjects, and in-depth studies of Arabic linguistics.
Category three is ‘permissible’, or ‘neutral innovation’, including worldly activities such as sifting flour, and constructing houses in various styles not known in Medina.
Category four is the ‘reprehensible innovation’. This includes such misdemeanours as overdecorating mosques or the Qur’an.
Category five is the ‘forbidden innovation’. This includes unlawful taxes, giving judgeships to those unqualified to hold them, and sectarian beliefs and practices that explicitly contravene the known principles of the Qur’an and the Sunna.
The above classification of bid’a types is normal in classical Shari’a literature, being accepted by the four schools of orthodox fiqh. There have been only two significant exceptions to this understanding in the history of Islamic thought: the Zahiri school as articulated by Ibn Hazm, and one wing of the Hanbali madhhab, represented by Ibn Taymiya, who goes against the classical ijma’ on this issue, and claims that all forms of innovation, good or bad, are un-Islamic.
Why is it, then, that so many Muslims now believe that innovation in any form is unacceptable in Islam? One factor has already been touched on: the mental complexes thrown up by insecurity, which incline people to find comfort in absolutist and literalist interpretations. Another lies in the influence of the well-financed neo-Hanbali madhhab called Wahhabism, whose leaders are famous for their rejection of all possibility of development.
In any case, armed with this more sophisticated and classical awareness of Islam’s ability to acknowledge and assimilate novelty, we can understand how Muslim civilisation was able so quickly to produce novel academic disciplines to deal with new problems as these arose.
Islamic psychology is characteristic of the new ulum which, although present in latent and implicit form in the Quran, were first systematized in Islamic culture during the early Abbasid period. Given the importance that the Quran attaches to obtaining a ‘sound heart’, we are not surprised to find that the influence of Islamic psychology has been massive and all-pervasive. In the formative first four centuries of Islam, the time when the great works of tafsir, hadith, grammar, and so forth were laid down, the ulema also applied their minds to this problem of al-qalb al-salim. This was first visible when, following the example of the Tabi’in, many of the early ascetics, such as Sufyan ibn Uyayna, Sufyan al-Thawri, and Abdallah ibn al-Mubarak, had focussed their concerns explicitly on the art of purifying the heart. The methods they recommended were frequent fasting and night prayer, periodic retreats, and a preoccupation with murabata: service as volunteer fighters in the border castles of Asia Minor.
This type of pietist orientation was not in the least systematic during this period. It was a loose category embracing all Muslims who sought salvation through the Prophetic virtues of renunciation, sincerity, and deep devotion to the revelation. These men and women were variously referred to as al-bakka’un: ‘the weepers’, because of their fear of the Day of Judgement, or as zuhhad, ascetics, or ubbad, ‘unceasing worshippers’.
By the third century, however, we start to find writings which can be understood as belonging to a distinct devotional school. The increasing luxury and materialism of Abbasid urban society spurred many Muslims to campaign for a restoration of the simplicity of the Prophetic age. Purity of heart, compassion for others, and a constant recollection of God were the defining features of this trend. We find references to the method of muhasaba: self-examination to detect impurities of intention. Also stressed was riyada: self-discipline.
By this time, too, the main outlines of Quranic psychology had been worked out. The human creature, it was realised, was made up of four constituent parts: the body (jism), the mind (aql), the spirit (ruh), and the self (nafs). The first two need little comment. Less familiar (at least to people of a modern education) are the third and fourth categories.
The spirit is the ruh, that underlying essence of the human individual which survives death. It is hard to comprehend rationally, being in part of Divine inspiration, as the Quran says:
“And they ask you about the spirit; say, the spirit is of the command of my Lord. And you have been given of knowledge only a little.”[7]
According to the early Islamic psychologists, the ruh is a non-material reality which pervades the entire human body, but is centred on the heart, the qalb. It represents that part of man which is not of this world, and which connects him with his Creator, and which, if he is fortunate, enables him to see God in the next world. When we are born, this ruh is intact and pure. As we are initiated into the distractions of the world, however, it is covered over with the ‘rust’ (ran) of which the Quran speaks. This rust is made up of two things: sin and distraction. When, through the process of self-discipline, these are banished, so that the worshipper is preserved from sin and is focussing entirely on the immediate presence and reality of God, the rust is dissolved, and the ruh once again is free. The heart is sound; and salvation, and closeness to God, are achieved.
This sounds simple enough. However, the early Muslims taught that such precious things come only at an appropriate price. Cleaning up the Augean stables of the heart is a most excruciating challenge. Outward conformity to the rules of religion is simple enough; but it is only the first step. Much more demanding is the policy known as mujahada: the daily combat against the lower self, the nafs. As the Quran says:
‘As for him that fears the standing before his Lord, and forbids his nafs its desires, for him, Heaven shall be his place of resort.’[8]
Hence the Sufi commandment:
‘Slaughter your ego with the knives of mujahada.’ [9]
Once the nafs is controlled, then the heart is clear, and the virtues proceed from it easily and naturally.
Because its objective is nothing less than salvation, this vital Islamic science has been consistently expounded by the great scholars of classical Islam. While today there are many Muslims, influenced by either Wahhabi or Orientalist agendas, who believe that Sufism has always led a somewhat marginal existence in Islam, the reality is that the overwhelming majority of the classical scholars were actively involved in Sufism.
The early Shafi’i scholars of Khurasan: al-Hakim al-Nisaburi, Ibn Furak, al-Qushayri and al-Bayhaqi, were all Sufis who formed links in the richest academic tradition of Abbasid Islam, which culminated in the achievement of Imam Hujjat al-Islam al-Ghazali. Ghazali himself, author of some three hundred books, including the definitive rebuttals of Arab philosophy and the Ismailis, three large textbooks of Shafi’ifiqh, the best-known tract of usul al-fiqh, two works on logic, and several theological treatises, also left us with the classic statement of orthodox Sufism: the Ihya Ulum al-Din, a book of which Imam Nawawi remarked:
“Were the books of Islam all to be lost, excepting only the Ihya’, it would suffice to replace them all.” [10]
Imam Nawawi himself wrote two books which record his debt to Sufism, one called the Bustan al-Arifin (‘Garden of the Gnostics’, and another called the al-Maqasid (recently published in English translation, Sunna Books, Evanston Il. trans. Nuh Ha Mim Keller).
Among the Malikis, too, Sufism was popular. Al-Sawi, al-Dardir, al-Laqqani and Abd al-Wahhab al-Baghdadi were all exponents of Sufism. The Maliki jurist of Cairo, Abd al-Wahhab al-Sha’rani defines Sufism as follows:
‘The path of the Sufis is built on the Quran and the Sunna, and is based on living according to the morals of the prophets and the purified ones. It may not be blamed, unless it violates an explicit statement from the Quran, sunna, or ijma. If it does not contravene any of these sources, then no pretext remains for condemning it, except one’s own low opinion of others, or interpreting what they do as ostentation, which is unlawful. No-one denies the states of the Sufis except someone ignorant of the way they are.’[11]
For Hanbali Sufism one has to look no further than the revered figures of Abdallah Ansari, Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani, Ibn al-Jawzi, and Ibn Rajab.
In fact, virtually all the great luminaries of medieval Islam: al-Suyuti, Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani, al-Ayni, Ibn Khaldun, al-Subki, Ibn Hajar al-Haytami; tafsir writers like Baydawi, al-Sawi, Abu’l-Su’ud, al-Baghawi, and Ibn Kathir[12] ; aqida writers such as Taftazani, al-Nasafi, al-Razi: all wrote in support of Sufism. Many, indeed, composed independent works of Sufi inspiration. The ulema of the great dynasties of Islamic history, including the Ottomans and the Moghuls, were deeply infused with the Sufi outlook, regarding it as one of the most central and indispensable of Islamic sciences.
Further confirmation of the Islamic legitimacy of Sufism is supplied by the enthusiasm of its exponents for carrying Islam beyond the boundaries of the Islamic world. The Islamization process in India, Black Africa, and South-East Asia was carried out largely at the hands of wandering Sufi teachers. Likewise, the Islamic obligation of jihad has been borne with especial zeal by the Sufi orders. All the great nineteenth century jihadists: Uthman dan Fodio (Hausaland), al-Sanousi (Libya), Abd al-Qadir al-Jaza’iri (Algeria), Imam Shamil (Daghestan) and the leaders of the Padre Rebellion (Sumatra) were active practitioners of Sufism, writing extensively on it while on their campaigns. Nothing is further from reality, in fact, than the claim that Sufism represents a quietist and non-militant form of Islam.
With all this, we confront a paradox. Why is it, if Sufism has been so respected a part of Muslim intellectual and political life throughout our history, that there are, nowadays, angry voices raised against it? There are two fundamental reasons here.
Firstly, there is again the pervasive influence of Orientalist scholarship, which, at least before 1922 when Massignon wrote his Essai sur les origines de la lexique technique, was of the opinion that something so fertile and profound as Sufism could never have grown from the essentially ‘barren and legalistic’ soil of Islam. Orientalist works translated into Muslim languages were influential upon key Muslim modernists – such as Muhammad Abduh in his later writings – who began to question the centrality, or even the legitimacy, of Sufi discourse in Islam.
Secondly, there is the emergence of the Wahhabi da’wa. When Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab, some two hundred years ago, teamed up with the Saudi tribe and attacked the neighbouring clans, he was doing so under the sign of an essentially neo-Kharijite version of Islam. Although he invoked Ibn Taymiya, he had reservations even about him. For Ibn Taymiya himself, although critical of the excesses of certain Sufi groups, had been committed to a branch of mainstream Sufism. This is clear, for instance, in Ibn Taymiya’s work Sharh Futuh al-Ghayb, a commentary on some technical points in the Revelations of the Unseen, a key work by the sixth-century saint of Baghdad, Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani. Throughout the work Ibn Taymiya shows himself to be a loyal disciple of al-Jilani, whom he always refers to asshaykhuna (‘our teacher’). This Qadiri affiliation is confirmed in the later literature of the Qadiri tariqa, which records Ibn Taymiya as a key link in the silsila, the chain of transmission of Qadiri teachings.[13]
Ibn Abd al-Wahhab, however, went far beyond this. Raised in the wastelands of Najd in Central Arabia, he had little access to mainstream Muslim scholarship. In fact, when his da’wa appeared and became notorious, the scholars and muftis of the day applied to it the famous Hadith of Najd:
Ibn Umar reported the Prophet (upon whom be blessings and peace) as saying: “Oh God, bless us in our Syria; O God, bless us in our Yemen.” Those present said: “And in our Najd, O Messenger of God!” but he said, “O God, bless us in our Syria; O God, bless us in our Yemen.” Those present said, “And in our Najd, O Messenger of God!”. Ibn Umar said that he thought that he said on the third occasion: “Earthquakes and dissensions (fitna) are there, and there shall arise the horn of the devil.”[14]
And it is significant that almost uniquely among the lands of Islam, Najd has never produced scholars of any repute.
The Najd-based da’wa of the Wahhabis, however, began to be heard more loudly following the explosion of Saudi oil wealth. Many, even most, Islamic publishing houses in Cairo and Beirut are now subsidised by Wahhabi organisations, which prevent them from publishing traditional works on Sufism, and remove passages in other works considered unacceptable to Wahhabist doctrine.
The neo-Kharijite nature of Wahhabism makes it intolerant of all other forms of Islamic expression. However, because it has no coherentfiqh of its own – it rejects the orthodox madhhabs – and has only the most basic and primitively anthropomorphic aqida, it has a fluid, amoebalike tendency to produce divisions and subdivisions among those who profess it. No longer are the Islamic groups essentially united by a consistent madhhab and the Ash’ari [or Maturidi] aqida. Instead, they are all trying to derive the shari’a and the aqida from the Quran and the Sunna by themselves. The result is the appalling state of division and conflict which disfigures the modern salafi condition.
At this critical moment in our history, the umma has only one realistic hope for survival, and that is to restore the ‘middle way’, defined by that sophisticated classical consensus which was worked out over painful centuries of debate and scholarship. That consensus alone has the demonstrable ability to provide a basis for unity. But it can only be retrieved when we improve the state of our hearts, and fill them with the Islamic virtues of affection, respect, tolerance and reconciliation. This inner reform, which is the traditional competence of Sufism, is a precondition for the restoration of unity in the Islamic movement. The alternative is likely to be continued, and agonising, failure.
NOTES
2. For a further analysis of this passage, see Habib Ahmad Mashhur al-Haddad, Key to the Garden (Quilliam Press, London 1990 CE), 78-81.
3. Sura 26:89. The archetype is Abrahamic: see Sura 37:84.
4. This hadith is in fact an instance of takhsis al-amm: a frequent procedure of usul al-fiqh by which an apparently unqualified statement is qualified to avoid the contradiction of another necessary principle. See Ahmad ibn Naqib al-Misri, Reliance of the Traveller, tr. Nuh Ha Mim Keller (Abu Dhabi, 1991 CE), 907-8 for some further examples.
5. Ibn Asakir, Tabyin Kadhib al-Muftari (Damascus, 1347), 97.
6. Cited in Muhammad al-Jurdani, al-Jawahir al-lu’lu’iyya fi sharh al-Arba’in al-Nawawiya (Damascus, 1328), 220-1.
9. al-Qushayri, al-Risala (Cairo, n.d.), I, 393.
10. al-Zabidi, Ithaf al-sada al-muttaqin (Cairo, 1311), I, 27.
11. Sha’rani, al-Tabaqat al-Kubra (Cairo, 1374), I, 4.
13. See G. Makdisi’s article ‘Ibn Taymiyya: A Sufi of the Qadiriya Order’ in the American Journal of Arabic Studies, 1973.
14. Narrated by Bukhari. The translation is from J. Robson, Mishkat al-Masabih (Lahore, 1970), II, 1380.
Perhaps the biggest challenge in learning Islam correctly today is the scarcity of traditional ‘ulama. In this meaning, Bukhari relates the sahih, rigorously authenticated hadith that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said,
“Truly, Allah does not remove Sacred Knowedge by taking it out of servants, but rather by taking back the souls of Islamic scholars [in death], until, when He has not left a single scholar, the people take the ignorant as leaders, who are asked for and who give Islamic legal opinion without knowledge, misguided and misguiding” (Fath al-Bari, 1.194, hadith 100).
The process described by the hadith is not yet completed, but has certainly begun, and in our times, the lack of traditional scholars—whether in Islamic law, in hadith, in tafsir ‘Qur’anic exegesis’—has given rise to an understanding of the religion that is far from scholarly, and sometimes far from the truth. For example, in the course of my own studies in Islamic law, my first impression from orientalist and Muslim-reformer literature, was that the Imams of the madhhabs or ‘schools of jurisprudence’ had brought a set of rules from completely outside the Islamic tradition and somehow imposed them upon the Muslims. But when I sat with traditional scholars in the Middle East and asked them about the details, I came away with a different point of view, having learned the bases for deriving the law from the Qur’an and sunna.
And similarly with Tasawwuf—which is the word I will use tonight for the English Sufism, since our context is traditional Islam—quite a different picture emerged from talking with scholars of Tasawwuf than what I had been exposed to in the West. My talk tonight, In Sha’ Allah, will present knowledge taken from the Qur’an and sahih hadith, and from actual teachers of Tasawwuf in Syria and Jordan, in view of the need for all of us to get beyond clichés, the need for factual information from Islamic sources, the need to answer such questions as: Where did Tasawwuf come from? What role does it play in the din or religion of Islam? and most importantly, What is the command of Allah about it?
As for the origin of the term Tasawwuf, like many other Islamic discliplines, its name was not known to the first generation of Muslims. The historian Ibn Khaldun notes in his Muqaddima:
This knowledge is a branch of the sciences of Sacred Law that originated within the Umma. From the first, the way of such people had also been considered the path of truth and guidance by the early Muslim community and its notables, of the Companions of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace), those who were taught by them, and those who came after them.
It basically consists of dedication to worship, total dedication to Allah Most High, disregard for the finery and ornament of the world, abstinence from the pleasure, wealth, and prestige sought by most men, and retiring from others to worship alone. This was the general rule among the Companions of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) and the early Muslims, but when involvement in this-worldly things became widespread from the second Islamic century onwards and people became absorbed in worldliness, those devoted to worship came to be called Sufiyya or People of Tasawwuf (Ibn Khaldun, al-Muqaddima [N.d. Reprint. Mecca: Dar al-Baz, 1397/1978], 467).
In Ibn Khaldun’s words, the content of Tasawwuf, “total dedication to Allah Most High,” was, “the general rule among the Companions of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) and the early Muslims.” So if the word did not exist in earliest times, we should not forget that this is also the case with many other Islamic disciplines, such as tafsir, ‘Qur’anic exegesis,’ or ‘ilm al-jarh wa ta‘dil, ‘the science of the positive and negative factors that affect hadith narrators acceptability,’ or ‘ilm al-tawhid, the science of belief in Islamic tenets of faith,’ all of which proved to be of the utmost importance to the correct preservation and transmission of the religion.
As for the origin of the word Tasawwuf, it may well be from Sufi, the person who does Tasawwuf, which seems to be etymologically prior to it, for the earliest mention of either term was by Hasan al-Basri who died 110 years after the Hijra, and is reported to have said, “I saw a Sufi circumambulating the Kaaba, and offered him a dirham, but he would not accept it.” It therefore seems better to understand Tasawwuf by first asking what a Sufi is; and perhaps the best definition of both the Sufi and his way, certainly one of the most frequently quoted by masters of the discipline, is from the sunna of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) who said:
Allah Most High says: “He who is hostile to a friend of Mine I declare war against. My slave approaches Me with nothing more beloved to Me than what I have made obligatory upon him, and My slave keeps drawing nearer to Me with voluntary works until I love him. And when I love him, I am his hearing with which he hears, his sight with which he sees, his hand with which he seizes, and his foot with which he walks. If he asks me, I will surely give to him, and if he seeks refuge in Me, I will surely protect him” (Fath al-Bari, 11.340–41, hadith 6502);
This hadith was related by Imam Bukhari, Ahmad ibn Hanbal, al-Bayhaqi, and others with multiple contiguous chains of transmission, and is sahih. It discloses the central reality of Tasawwuf, which is precisely change, while describing the path to this change, in conformity with a traditional definition used by masters in the Middle East, who define a Sufi as Faqihun ‘amila bi ‘ilmihi fa awrathahu Llahu ‘ilma ma lam ya‘lam,‘A man of religious learning who applied what he knew, so Allah bequeathed him knowledge of what he did not know.’
To clarify, a Sufi is a man of religious learning,because the hadith says, “My slave approaches Me with nothing more beloved to Me than what I have made obligatory upon him,” and only through learning can the Sufi know the command of Allah, or what has been made obligatory for him. He hasapplied what he knew, because the hadith says he not only approaches Allah with the obligatory, but “keeps drawing nearer to Me with voluntary works until I love him.” And in turn, Allah bequeathed him knowledge of what he did not know, because the hadith says, “And when I love him, I am his hearing with which he hears, his sight with which he sees, his hand with which he seizes, and his foot with which he walks,” which is a metaphor for the consummate awareness of tawhid, or the ‘unity of Allah,’ which in the context of human actions such as hearing, sight, seizing, and walking, consists of realizing the words of the Qur’an about Allah that,
“It is He who created you and what you do” (Qur’an 37:96).
The origin of the way of the Sufi thus lies in the prophetic sunna. The sincerity to Allah that it entails was the rule among the earliest Muslims, to whom this was simply a state of being without a name, while it only became a distinct discipline when the majority of the Community had drifted away and changed from this state. Muslims of subsequent generations required systematic effort to attain it, and it was because of the change in the Islamic environment after the earliest generations, that a discipline by the name of Tasawwuf came to exist.
But if this is true of origins, the more significant question is: How central is Tasawwuf to the religion, and: Where does it fit into Islam as a whole? Perhaps the best answer is the hadith of Muslim, that ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab said:
As we sat one day with the Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him peace), a man in pure white clothing and jet black hair came to us, without a trace of travelling upon him, though none of us knew him.
He sat down before the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) bracing his knees against his, resting his hands on his legs, and said: “Muhammad, tell me about Islam.” The Messenger of Allah (Allah bless him and give him peace) said: “Islam is to testify that there is no god but Allah and that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah, and to perform the prayer, give zakat, fast in Ramadan, and perform the pilgrimage to the House if you can find a way.”
He said: “You have spoken the truth,” and we were surprised that he should ask and then confirm the answer. Then he said:
“Tell me about true faith (iman),” and the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) answered: “It is to believe in Allah, His angels, His inspired Books, His messengers, the Last Day, and in destiny, its good and evil.”
“You have spoken the truth,” he said, “Now tell me about the perfection of faith (ihsan),” and the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) answered: “It is to worship Allah as if you see Him, and if you see Him not, He nevertheless sees you.”
The hadith continues to where ‘Umar said:
Then the visitor left. I waited a long while, and the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said to me, “Do you know, ‘Umar, who was the questioner?” and I replied, “Allah and His messenger know best.” He said,
“It was Gabriel, who came to you to teach you your religion” (Sahih Muslim, 1.37: hadith 8).
This is a sahih hadith, described by Imam Nawawi as one of the hadiths upon which the Islamic religion turns. The use of din in the last words of it,Atakum yu‘allimukum dinakum, “came to you to teach you your religion” entails that the religion of Islam is composed of the three fundamentals mentioned in the hadith: Islam, or external compliance with what Allah asks of us; Iman, or the belief in the unseen that the prophets have informed us of; and Ihsan, or to worship Allah as though one sees Him. The Qur’an says, in Surat Maryam,
“Surely We have revealed the Remembrance, and surely We shall preserve it” (Qur’an 15:9),
and if we reflect how Allah, in His wisdom, has accomplished this, we see that it is by human beings, the traditional scholars He has sent at each level of the religion. The level of Islam has been preserved and conveyed to us by the Imams of Shari‘a or ‘Sacred Law’ and its ancillary disciplines; the level of Iman, by the Imams of ‘Aqida or ‘tenets of faith’; and the level of Ihsan, “to worship Allah as though you see Him,” by the Imams of Tasawwuf.
The hadith’s very words “to worship Allah” show us the interrelation of these three fundamentals, for the how of “worship” is only known through the external prescriptions of Islam, while the validity of this worship in turn presupposes Iman or faith in Allah and the Islamic revelation, without which worship would be but empty motions; while the words, “as if you see Him,” show that Ihsan implies a human change, for it entails the experience of what, for most of us, is not experienced. So to understand Tasawwuf, we must look at the nature of this change in relation to both Islam and Iman, and this is the main focus of my talk tonight.
At the level of Islam, we said that Tasawwuf requires Islam,through ‘submission to the rules of Sacred Law.’ But Islam, for its part, equally requires Tasawwuf. Why? For the very good reason that the sunna which Muslims have been commanded to follow is not just the words and actions of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace), but also his states, states of the heart such as taqwa ‘godfearingness,’ ikhlas ‘sincerity,’ tawakkul‘reliance on Allah,’ rahma ‘mercy,’ tawadu‘ ‘humility,’ and so on.
Now, it is characteristic of the Islamic ethic that human actions are not simply divided into two shades of morality, right or wrong; but rather five, arranged in order of their consequences in the next world. The obligatory (wajib) is that whose performance is rewarded by Allah in the next life and whose nonperformance is punished. The recommended (mandub) is that whose performance is rewarded, but whose nonperformance is not punished. The permissible (mubah) is indifferent, unconnected with either reward or punishment. The offensive (makruh) is that whose nonperformance is rewarded but whose performance is not punished. The unlawful (haram) is that whose nonperformance is rewarded and whose performance is punished, if one dies unrepentant.
Human states of the heart, the Qur’an and sunna make plain to us, come under each of these headings. Yet they are not dealt with in books of fiqh or ‘Islamic jurisprudence,’ because unlike the prayer, zakat, or fasting, they are not quantifiable in terms of the specific amount of them that must be done. But though they are not countable, they are of the utmost importance to every Muslim. Let’s look at a few examples.
(1) Love of Allah. In Surat al-Baqara of the Qur’an, Allah blames those who ascribe associates to Allah whom they love as much as they love Allah. Then He says,
“And those who believe are greater in love for Allah” (Qur’an 2:165), making being a believer conditional upon having greater love for Allah than any other.
(2) Mercy. Bukhari and Muslim relate that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said, “Whomever is not merciful to people, Allah will show no mercy” (Sahih Muslim, 4.1809: hadith 2319), and Tirmidhi relates the well authenticated (hasan) hadith “Mercy is not taken out of anyone except the damned” (al-Jami‘ al-sahih, 4.323: hadith 1923).
(3) Love of each other. Muslim relates in his Sahih that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said, “By Him in whose hand is my soul, none of you shall enter paradise until you believe, and none of you shall believe until you love one another . . . .” (Sahih Muslim, 1.74: hadith 54).
(4) Presence of mind in the prayer (salat). Abu Dawud relates in his Sunan that ‘Ammar ibn Yasir heard the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) say, “Truly, a man leaves, and none of his prayer has been recorded for him except a tenth of it, a ninth of it, eighth of it, seventh of it, sixth of it, fifth of it, fourth of it, third of it, a half of it” (Sunan Abi Dawud, 1.211: hadith 796)—meaning that none of a person’s prayer counts for him except that in which he is present in his heart with Allah.
(5) Love of the Prophet. Bukhari relates in his Sahih that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said, “None of you believes until I am more beloved to him than his father, his son, and all people” (Fath al-Bari, 1.58, hadith 15).
It is plain from these texts that none of the states mentioned—whether mercy, love, or presence of heart—are quantifiable, for the Shari‘a cannot specify that one must “do two units of mercy” or “have three units of presence of mind” in the way that the number of rak‘as of prayer can be specified, yet each of them is personally obligatory for the Muslim. Let us complete the picture by looking at a few examples of states that are haramor ‘strictly unlawful’:
(1) Fear of anyone besides Allah. Allah Most High says in Surat al-Baqara of the Qur’an,
“And fulfill My covenant: I will fulfill your covenant—And fear Me alone” (Qur’an 2:40), the last phrase of which, according to Imam Fakhr al-Din al-Razi, “establishes that a human being is obliged to fear no one besides Allah Most High” (Tafsir al-Fakhr al-Razi, 3.42).
(2) Despair. Allah Most High says,
“None despairs of Allah’s mercy except the people who disbelieve” (Qur’an 12:87), indicating the unlawfulness of this inward state by coupling it with the worst human condition possible, that of unbelief.
(3) Arrogance. Muslim relates in his Sahih that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said,
“No one shall enter paradise who has a particle of arrogance in his heart” (Sahih Muslim, 1.93: hadith 91).
(4) Envy,meaning to wish for another to lose the blessings he enjoys. Abu Dawud relates that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said,
“Beware of envy, for envy consumes good works as flames consume firewood” (Sunan Abi Dawud, 4.276: hadith 4903).
(5) Showing off in acts of worship. Al-Hakim relates with a sahih chain of transmission that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said,
“The slightest bit of showing off in good works is as if worshipping others with Allah . . . .” (al-Mustadrak ‘ala al-Sahihayn, 1.4).
These and similar haram inward states are not found in books of fiqh or ‘jurisprudence,’ because fiqh can only deal with quantifiable descriptions of rulings. Rather, they are examined in their causes and remedies by the scholars of the ‘inner fiqh’ of Tasawwuf, men such as Imam al-Ghazali in hisIhya’ ‘ulum al-din [The reviving of the religious sciences], Imam al-Rabbani in his Maktubat [Letters], al-Suhrawardi in his ‘Awarif al-Ma‘arif [The knowledges of the illuminates], Abu Talib al-Makki in Qut al-qulub [The sustenance of hearts], and similar classic works, which discuss and solve hundreds of ethical questions about the inner life. These are books of Shari‘a and their questions are questions of Sacred Law, of how it is lawful or unlawful for a Muslim to be; and they preserve the part of the prophetic sunna dealing with states.
Who needs such information? All Muslims, for the Qur’anic verses and authenticated hadiths all point to the fact that a Muslim must not only do certain things and say certain things, but also must be something, must attain certain states of the heart and eliminate others. Do we ever fear someone besides Allah? Do we have a particle of arrogance in our hearts? Is our love for the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) greater than our love for any other human being? Is there the slightest bit of showing off in our good works?
Half a minute’s reflection will show the Muslim where he stands on these aspects of his din, and why in classical times, helping Muslims to attain these states was not left to amateurs, but rather delegated to ‘ulama of the heart, the scholars of Islamic Tasawwuf. For most people, these are not easy transformations to make, because of the force of habit, because of the subtlety with which we can deceive ourselves, but most of all because each of us has an ego, the self, the Me, which is called in Arabic al-nafs, about which Allah testifies in Surat Yusuf:
“Verily the self ever commands to do evil” (Qur’an 12:53).
If you do not believe it, consider the hadith related by Muslim in his Sahih, that:
The first person judged on Resurrection Day will be a man martyred in battle.
He will be brought forth, Allah will reacquaint him with His blessings upon him and the man will acknowledge them, whereupon Allah will say, “What have you done with them?” to which the man will respond, “I fought to the death for You.”
Allah will reply, “You lie. You fought in order to be called a hero, and it has already been said.” Then he will be sentenced and dragged away on his face and flung into the fire.
Then a man will be brought forward who learned Sacred Knowledge, taught it to others, and who recited the Qur’an. Allah will remind him of His gifts to him and the man will acknowledge them, and then Allah will say, “What have you done with them?” The man will answer, “I acquired Sacred Knowledge, taught it, and recited the Qur’an, for Your sake.”
Allah will say, “You lie. You learned so as to be called a scholar, and read the Qur’an so as to be called a reciter, and it has already been said.” Then the man will be sentenced and dragged away on his face to be flung into the fire.
Then a man will be brought forward whom Allah generously provided for, giving him various kinds of wealth, and Allah will recall to him the benefits given, and the man will acknowledge them, to which Allah will say, “And what have you done with them?” The man will answer, “I have not left a single kind of expenditure You love to see made, except that I have spent on it for Your sake.”
Allah will say, “You lie. You did it so as to be called generous, and it has already been said.” Then he will be sentenced and dragged away on his face to be flung into the fire (Sahih Muslim, 3.1514: hadith 1905).
We should not fool ourselves about this, because our fate depends on it: in our childhood, our parents taught us how to behave through praise or blame, and for most of us, this permeated and colored our whole motivation for doing things. But when childhood ends, and we come of age in Islam, the religion makes it clear to us, both by the above hadith and by the words of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) “The slightest bit of showing off in good works is as if worshipping others with Allah” that being motivated by what others think is no longer good enough, and that we must change our motives entirely, and henceforth be motivated by nothing but desire for Allah Himself. The Islamic revelation thus tells the Muslim that it is obligatory to break his habits of thinking and motivation, but it does not tell him how. For that, he must go to the scholars of these states, in accordance with the Qur’anic imperative,
“Ask those who know if you know not” (Qur’an 16:43),
There is no doubt that bringing about this change, purifying the Muslims by bringing them to spiritual sincerity, was one of the central duties of the Prophet Muhammad (Allah bless him and give him peace), for Allah says in the Surat Al ‘Imran of the Qur’an,
“Allah has truly blessed the believers, for He has sent them a messenger of themselves, who recites His signs to them and purifies them, and teaches them the Book and the Wisdom” (Qur’an 3:164),
which explicitly lists four tasks of the prophetic mission, the second of which, yuzakkihim means precisely to ‘purify them’ and has no other lexical sense. Now, it is plain that this teaching function cannot, as part of an eternal revelation, have ended with the passing of the first generation, a fact that Allah explictly confirms in His injunction in Surat Luqman,
“And follow the path of him who turns unto Me” (Qur’an 31:15).
These verses indicate the teaching and transformative role of those who convey the Islamic revelation to Muslims, and the choice of the word ittiba‘ in the second verse, which is more general, implies both keeping the company of and following the example of a teacher. This is why in the history of Tasawwuf, we find that though there were many methods and schools of thought, these two things never changed: keeping the company of a teacher, and following his example—in exactly the same way that the Sahaba were uplifted and purified by keeping the company of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) and following his example.
And this is why the discipline of Tasawwuf has been preserved and transmitted by Tariqas or groups of students under a particular master. First, because this was the sunna of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) in his purifying function described by the Qur’an. Secondly, Islamic knowledge has never been transmitted by writings alone, but rather from ‘ulama to students. Thirdly, the nature of the knowledge in question is ofhal or ‘state of being,’ not just knowing, and hence requires it be taken from a succession of living masters back to the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace), for the sheer range and number of the states of heart required by the revelation effectively make imitation of the personal example of a teacher the only effective means of transmission.
So far we have spoken about Tasawwuf in respect to Islam, as a Shari‘a science necessary to fully realize the Sacred Law in one’s life, to attain the states of the heart demanded by the Qur’an and hadith. This close connection between Shari‘a and Tasawwuf is expressed by the statement of Imam Malik, founder of the Maliki school, that “he who practices Tasawwuf without learning Sacred Law corrupts his faith, while he who learns Sacred Law without practicing Tasawwuf corrupts himself. Only he who combines the two proves true.” This is why Tasawwuf was taught as part of the traditional curriculum in madrasas across the Muslim world from Malaysia to Morocco, why many of the greatest Shari‘a scholars of this Umma have been Sufis, and why until the end of the Islamic caliphate at the beginning of this century and the subsequent Western control and cultural dominance of Muslim lands, there were teachers of Tasawwuf in Islamic institutions of higher learning from Lucknow to Istanbul to Cairo.
But there is a second aspect of Tasawwuf that we have not yet talked about; namely, its relation to Iman or ‘True Faith,’ the second pillar of the Islamic religion, which in the context of the Islamic sciences consists of ‘Aqida or ‘orthodox belief.’
All Muslims believe in Allah, and that He is transcendently beyond anything conceivable to the minds of men, for the human intellect is imprisoned within its own sense impressions and the categories of thought derived from them, such as number, directionality, spatial extention, place, time, and so forth. Allah is beyond all of that; in His own words,
“There is nothing whatesover like unto Him” (Qur’an 42:11)
If we reflect for a moment on this verse, in the light of the hadith of Muslim about Ihsan that “it is to worship Allah as though you see Him,” we realize that the means of seeing here is not the eye, which can only behold physical things like itself; nor yet the mind, which cannot transcend its own impressions to reach the Divine, but rather certitude, the light of Iman, whose locus is not the eye or the brain, but rather the ruh, a subtle faculty Allah has created within each of us called the soul, whose knowledge is unobstructed by the bounds of the created universe. Allah Most High says, by way of exalting the nature of this faculty by leaving it a mystery,
“Say: ‘The soul is of the affair of my Lord’” (Qur’an 17:85).
The food of this ruh is dhikr or the ‘remembrance of Allah.’ Why? Because acts of obedience increase the light of certainty and Iman in the soul, and dhikr is among the greatest of them, as is attested to by the sahih hadith related by al-Hakim that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said,
“Shall I not tell you of the best of your works, the purest of them in the eyes of your Master, the highest in raising your rank, better than giving gold and silver, and better for you than to meet your enemy and smite their necks, and they smite yours?” They said, “This—what is it, O Messenger of Allah?” and he said: Dhikru Llahi ‘azza wa jall, “The remembrance of Allah Mighty and Majestic.” (al-Mustadrak ‘ala al-Sahihayn, 1.496).
Increasing the strength of Iman through good actions, and particularly through the medium of dhikr has tremendous implications for the Islamic religion and traditional spirituality. A non-Muslim once asked me, “If God exists, then why all this beating around the bush? Why doesn’t He just come out and say so?”
The answer is that taklif or ‘moral responsibility’ in this life is not only concerned with outward actions, but with what we believe, our ‘Aqida—and the strength with which we believe it. If belief in God and other eternal truths were effortless in this world, there would be no point in Allah making us responsible for it, it would be automatic, involuntary, like our belief, say, that London is in England. There would no point in making someone responsible for something impossible not to believe.
But the responsibility Allah has place upon us is belief in the Unseen, as a test for us in this world to choose between kufr and Iman, to distinguish believer from unbeliever, and some believers above others.
This why strengthening Iman through dhikr is of such methodological importance for Tasawwuf: we have not only been commanded as Muslims to believe in certain things, but have been commanded to have absolute certainty in them. The world we see around us is composed of veils of light and darkness: events come that knock the Iman out of some of us, and Allah tests each of us as to the degree of certainty with which we believe the eternal truths of the religion. It was in this sense that ‘Umar ibn al-Khattab said, “If the Iman of Abu Bakr were weighed against the Iman of the entire Umma, it would outweigh it.”
Now, in traditional ‘Aqida one of the most important tenets is the wahdaniyya or ‘oneness and uniqueness’ of Allah Most High. This means He is without any sharik or associate in His being, in His attributes, or in His acts. But the ability to hold this insight in mind in the rough and tumble of daily life is a function of the strength of certainty (yaqin) in one’s heart. Allah tells the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) in Surat al-A‘raf of the Qur’an,
“Say: ‘I do not possess benefit for myself or harm, except as Allah wills’” (Qur’an 7:188),
yet we tend to rely on ourselves and our plans, in obliviousness to the facts of ‘Aqida that ourselves and our plans have no effect, that Allah alone brings about effects.
If you want to test yourself on this, the next time you contact someone with good connections whose help is critical to you, take a look at your heart at the moment you ask him to put in a good word for you with someone, and see whom you are relying upon. If you are like most of us, Allah is not at the forefront of your thoughts, despite the fact that He alone is controlling the outcome. Isn’t this a lapse in your ‘Aqida, or, at the very least, in your certainty?
Tasawwuf corrects such shortcomings by step-by-step increasing the Muslim’s certainty in Allah. The two central means of Tasawwuf in attaining theconviction demanded by ‘Aqida are mudhakara, or learning the traditional tenets of Islamic faith, and dhikr, deepening one’s certainty in them by remembrance of Allah. It is part of our faith that, in the words of the Qur’an in Surat al-Saffat,
“Allah has created you and what you do” (Qur’an 37:96);
yet for how many of us is this day to day experience? Because Tasawwuf remedies this and other shortcomings of Iman, by increasing the Muslim’s certainty through a systematic way of teaching and dhikr, it has traditionally been regarded as personally obligatory to this pillar of the religion also, and from the earliest centuries of Islam, has proved its worth.
The last question we will deal with tonight is: What about the bad Sufis we read about, who contravene the teachings of Islam?
The answer is that there are two meanings of Sufi: the first is “Anyone who considers himself a Sufi,” which is the rule of thumb of orientalist historians of Sufism and popular writers, who would oppose the “Sufis” to the “Ulama.” I think the Qur’anic verses and hadiths we have mentioned tonight about the scope and method of true Tasawwuf show why we must insist on the primacy of the definition of a Sufi as “a man of religious learning who applied what he knew, so Allah bequeathed him knowledge of what he did not know.”
The very first thing a Sufi, as a man of religious learning knows is that the Shari‘a and ‘Aqida of Islam are above every human being. Whoever does not know this will never be a Sufi, except in the orientalist sense of the word—like someone standing in front of the stock exchange in an expensive suit with a briefcase to convince people he is a stockbroker. A real stockbroker is something else.
Because this distinction is ignored today by otherwise well-meaning Muslims, it is often forgotten that the ‘ulama who have criticized Sufis, such as Ibn al-Jawzi in his Talbis Iblis [The Devil’s deception], or Ibn Taymiya in places in his Fatawa, or Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyya, were not criticizing Tasawwuf as an ancillary discipline to the Shari‘a. The proof of this is Ibn al-Jawzi’s five-volume Sifat al-safwa, which contains the biographies of the very same Sufis mentioned in al-Qushayri’s famous Tasawwuf manual al-Risala al-Qushayriyya. Ibn Taymiya considered himself a Sufi of the Qadiri order, and volumes ten and eleven of his thirty-seven-volume Majmu‘ al-fatawa are devoted to Tasawwuf. And Ibn al-Qayyim al-Jawziyya wrote his three-volume Madarij al-salikin, a detailed commentary on ‘Abdullah al-Ansari al-Harawi’s tract on the spiritual stations of the Sufi path, Manazil al-sa’irin. These works show that their authors’ criticisms were not directed at Tasawwuf as such, but rather at specific groups of their times, and they should be understood for what they are.
As in other Islamic sciences, mistakes historically did occur in Tasawwuf, most of them stemming from not recognizing the primacy of Shari‘a and ‘Aqida above all else. But these mistakes were not different in principle from, for example, the Isra’iliyyat (baseless tales of Bani Isra’il) that crept into tafsir literature, or the mawdu‘at (hadith forgeries) that crept into the hadith. These were not taken as proof that tafsir was bad, or hadith was deviance, but rather, in each discipline, the errors were identified and warned against by Imams of the field, because the Umma needed the rest. And such corrections are precisely what we find in books like Qushayri’s Risala,Ghazali’s Ihya’ and other works of Sufism.
For all of the reasons we have mentioned, Tasawwuf was accepted as an essential part of the Islamic religion by the ‘ulama of this Umma. The proof of this is all the famous scholars of Shari‘a sciences who had the higher education of Tasawwuf, among them Ibn ‘Abidin, al-Razi, Ahmad Sirhindi, Zakariyya al-Ansari, al-‘Izz ibn ‘Abd al-Salam, Ibn Daqiq al-‘Eid, Ibn Hajar al-Haytami, Shah Wali Allah, Ahmad Dardir, Ibrahim al-Bajuri, ‘Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi, Imam al-Nawawi, Taqi al-Din al-Subki, and al-Suyuti.
Among the Sufis who aided Islam with the sword as well as the pen, to quote Reliance of the Traveller, were:
such men as the Naqshbandi sheikh Shamil al-Daghestani, who fought a prolonged war against the Russians in the Caucasus in the nineteenth century; Sayyid Muhammad ‘Abdullah al-Somali, a sheikh of the Salihiyya order who led Muslims against the British and Italians in Somalia from 1899 to 1920; the Qadiri sheikh ‘Uthman ibn Fodi, who led jihad in Northern Nigeria from 1804 to 1808 to establish Islamic rule; the Qadiri sheikh ‘Abd al-Qadir al-Jaza’iri, who led the Algerians against the French from 1832 to 1847; the Darqawi faqir al-Hajj Muhammad al-Ahrash, who fought the French in Egypt in 1799; the Tijani sheikh al-Hajj ‘Umar Tal, who led Islamic Jihad in Guinea, Senegal, and Mali from 1852 to 1864; and the Qadiri sheikh Ma’ al-‘Aynayn al-Qalqami, who helped marshal Muslim resistance to the French in northern Mauritania and southern Morocco from 1905 to 1909.
Among the Sufis whose missionary work Islamized entire regions are such men as the founder of the Sanusiyya order, Muhammad ‘Ali Sanusi, whose efforts and jihad from 1807 to 1859 consolidated Islam as the religion of peoples from the Libyan Desert to sub-Saharan Africa; [and] the Shadhili sheikh Muhammad Ma‘ruf and Qadiri sheikh Uways al-Barawi, whose efforts spread Islam westward and inland from the East African Coast . . . . (Reliance of the Traveller,863).
It is plain from the examples of such men what kind of Muslims have been Sufis; namely, all kinds, right across the board—and that Tasawwuf did not prevent them from serving Islam in any way they could.
To summarize everything I have said tonight: In looking first at Tasawwuf and Shari‘a, we found that many Qur’anic verses and sahih hadiths oblige the Muslim to eliminate haram inner states as arrogance, envy, and fear of anyone besides Allah; and on the other hand, to acquire such obligatory inner states as mercy, love of one’s fellow Muslims, presence of mind in prayer, and love of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace). We found that these inward states could not be dealt with in books of fiqh, whose purpose is to specify the outward, quantifiable aspects of the Shari‘a. The knowledge of these states is nevertheless of the utmost importance to every Muslim, and this is why it was studied under the ‘ulama of Ihsan, the teachers of Tasawwuf, in all periods of Islamic history until the beginning of the present century.
We then turned to the level of Iman, and found that though the ‘Aqida of Muslims is that Allah alone has any effect in this world, keeping this in mind in everhday life is not a given of human consciousness, but rather a function of a Muslim’s yaqin, his certainty. And we found that Tasawwuf, as an ancillary discipline to ‘Aqida, emphasizes the systematic increase of this certainty through both mudhakara, ‘teaching tenets of faith’ and dhikr, ‘the remembrance of Allah,’ in accordance with the words of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) about Ihsan that “it is worship Allah as though you see Him.”
Lastly, we found that accusations against Tasawwuf made by scholars such as Ibn al-Jawzi, and Ibn Taymiya were not directed against Tasawwuf in principle, but to specific groups and individuals in the times of these authors, the proof for which is the other books by the same authors that showed their understanding of Tasawwuf as a Shari‘a science.
To return to the starting point of my talk this evening, with the disappearance of traditional Islamic scholars from the Umma, two very different pictures of Tasawwuf emerge today. If we read books written after the dismantling of the traditional fabric of Islam by colonial powers in the last century, we find the big hoax: Islam without spirituality and Shari‘a without Tasawwuf. But if we read the classical works of Islamic scholarship, we learn that Tasawwuf has been a Shari‘a science like tafsir, hadith, or any other, throughout the history of Islam. The Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) said,
“Truly, Allah does not look at your outward forms and wealth, but rather at your hearts and your works” (Sahih Muslim, 4.1389: hadith 2564).
And this is the brightest hope that Islam can offer a modern world darkened by materialism and nihilism: Islam as it truly is; the hope of eternal salvation through a religion of brotherhood and social and economic justice outwardly, and the direct experience of divine love and illumination inwardly.
© Nuh Ha Mim Keller 1995
This the text of a lecture give at Islamic Foundation (Markfield Center, Leicester) January 1995 and Croydon Mosque 30th January 1995.
I would respond by looking to see how traditional ulama or Islamic scholars have viewed it. For the longest period of Islamic history–from Umayyad times to Abbasid, to Mameluke, to the end of the six-hundred-year Ottoman period–Sufism has been taught and understood as an Islamic discipline, like Qur’anic exegesis (tafsir), hadith, Qur’an recital (tajwid), tenets of faith (ilm al-tawhid) or any other, each of which preserved some particular aspect of the din or religion of Islam. While the details and terminology of these shari’a disciplines were unknown to the first generation of Muslims, when they did come into being, they were not considered bid’a or “reprehensible innovation” by theulema of shari’a because for them, bid’a did not pertain to means, but rather to ends, or more specifically, those ends that nothing in Islam attested to the validity of.
To illustrate this point, we may note that the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) never in his life prayed in a mosque built of reinforced concrete, with a carpeted floor, glass windows, and so on, yet these are not considered bid’a, because we Muslims have been commanded to come together in mosques to perform the prayer, and large new buildings for this are merely a means to carry out the command.
In the realm of knowledge, books of detailed interpretation of the Qur’an, verse by verse and sura by sura, were not known to the first generation of Islam, nor was the term tafsir current among them, yet because of its benefit in preserving a vital aspect of the revelation, the understanding of the Qur’an, when the tafsir literature came into being, it was acknowledged to serve an end endorsed by the shari’a and was not condemned as bid’a. The same is true of most of the Islamic sciences, such as ilm al-jarh wa tadil or “the science of weighing positive and negative factors for evaluating the reliability of hadith narrators”, or ilm al-tawhid, “the science of tenets of Islamic faith”, and other disciplines essential to the shari’a. In this connection, Imam Shafi’i (d. 204/820) has said, “Anything which has a support (mustanad) from the shari’a is not bid’a, even if the early Muslims did not do it” (Ahmad al-Ghimari, Tashnif al-adhan, Cairo: Maktaba al-Khanji, n.d., 133).
Similarly ilm al-tasawwuf, “the science of Sufism” came into being to preserve and transmit a particular aspect of the shari’a, that of ikhlas or sincerity. It was recognized that the sunna of the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) was not only words and actions, but also states of being: that a Muslim must not only say certain things and do certain things, but must also be something. The shari’a commands one, for example, in many Qur’anic verses and prophetic hadiths, to fear Allah, to have sincerity toward Him, to be so certain in ones knowledge of Allah that one worships Him as if one sees Him, to love the Prophet (Allah bless him and give him peace) more than any other human being, to show love and respect to all fellow Muslims, to show mercy, and to have many other states of the heart. It likewise forbids us such inward states as envy, malice, pride, arrogance, love of this world, anger for the sake of one’s ego, and so on. Al-Hakim al-Tirmidhi relates, for example, with a chain of transmission judged rigorously authenticated (sahih) by Ibn Main, the hadith “Anger spoils faith (iman) as [the bitterness of] aloes sap spoils honey” (Nawadir al-usul. Istanbul 1294/1877. Reprint. Beirut: Dar Sadir, n.d., 6).
If we reflect upon these states, obligatory to attain or to eliminate, we notice that they proceed from dispositions, dispositions not only lacking in the unregenerate human heart, but acquired only with some effort, resulting in a human change so profound that the Qur’an in many verses terms it purification, as when Allah says in surat al-Ala, for example, “He has succeeded who purifies himself” (Qur’an 87:14). Bringing about this change is the aim of the Islamic science of Sufism, and it cannot be termed bid’a, because the shari’a commands us to accomplish the change.
At the practical level, the nature of this science of purifying the heart (like virtually all other traditional Islamic disciplines) requires that the knowledge be taken from those who possess it. This is why historically we find that groups of students gathered around particular sheikhs to learn the discipline of Sufism from. While such tariqas or groups, past and present, have emphasized different ways to realize the attachment of the heart to Allah commanded by the Islamic revelation, some features are found in all of them, such as learning knowledge from a teacher by precept and example, and then methodically increasing ones iman or faith by applying this knowledge through performing obligatory and supererogatory works of worship, among the greatest of latter being dhikr or the remembrance of Allah. There is much in the Qur’an and sunna that attests to the validity of this approach, such as the hadith related by al-Bukhari that:
Allah Most High says: “. . . . My slave approaches Me with nothing more beloved to Me than what I have made obligatory upon him, and My slave keeps drawing nearer to Me with voluntary works until I love him. And when I love him, I am his hearing with which he hears, his sight with which he sees, his hand with which he seizes, and his foot with which he walks. If he asks me, I will surely give to him, and if he seeks refuge in Me, I will surely protect him (Sahih al-Bukhari. 9 vols. Cairo 1313/1895. Reprint (9 vols. in 3). Beirut: Dar al-Jil, n.d., 5.131: 6502)
–which is a way of expressing that such a person has realized the consummate awareness of tawhid or “unity of Allah” demanded by the shari’a, which entails total sincerity to Allah in all one’s actions. Because of this hadith, and others, traditional ulama have long acknowledged that ilm or “Sacred Knowledge” is not sufficient in itself, but also entails amal or “applying what one knows”–as well as the resultant hal or “praiseworthy spiritual state” mentioned in the hadith.
It was perceived in all Islamic times that when a scholar joins between these aspects, his words mirror his humility and sincerity, and for that reason enter the hearts of listeners. This is why we find that so many of the Islamic scholars to whom Allah gave tawfiq or success in their work were Sufis. Indeed, to throw away every traditional work of the Islamic sciences authored by those educated by Sufis would be to discard 75 percent or more of the books of Islam. These men included such scholars as the Hanafi Imam Muhammad Amin Ibn Abidin, Sheikh al-Islam Zakaria al-Ansari, Imam Ibn Daqiq al-Eid, Imam al-Izz Ibn Abd al-Salam, Abd al-Ghani al-Nabulsi, Sheikh Ahmad al-Sirhindi, Sheikh Ibrahim al-Bajuri, Imam al-Ghazali, Shah Wali Allah al-Dahlawi, Imam al-Nawawi, the hadith master (hafiz, someone with 100,000 hadiths by memory) Abd al-Adhim al-Mundhiri, the hadith master Murtada al-Zabidi, the hadith master Abd al-Rauf al-Manawi, the hadith master Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti, the hadith master Taqi al-Din al-Subki, Imam al-Rafii, Imam Ibn Hajar al-Haytami, Zayn al-Din al-Mallibari, Ahmad ibn Naqib al-Misri, and many many others.
Imam al-Nawawi’s attitude towards Sufism is plain from his work Bustan al-arifin [The grove of the knowers of Allah] on the subject, as well as his references to al-Qushayri’s famous Sufi manual al-Risala al-Qushayriyya throughout his own Kitab al-adhkar [Book of the remembrances of Allah], and the fact that fifteen out of seventeen quotations about sincerity (ikhlas) and being true (sidq) in an introductory section of his largest legal work (al-Majmu: sharh al-Muhadhdhab. 20 vols. Cairo n.d. Reprint. Medina: al-Maktaba al-Salafiyya, n.d., 1.1718) are from Sufis who appear by name in al-Sulami’s Tabaqat al-Sufiyya [The successive generations of Sufis]. Even Ibn Taymiyya (whose views on Sufism remain strangely unfamiliar even to those for whom he is their “Sheikh of Islam”) devoted volumes ten and eleven of his Majmu al-fatawa to Sufism, while his student Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya wrote his three-volume Madarij al-salikin as a detailedcommentary on Abdullah al-Ansaris Manazil al-sairin, a guide to the maqamat or “spiritual stations” of the Sufi path. These and many other Muslim scholars knew firsthand the value of Sufism as an ancillary shari’adiscipline needed to purify the heart, and this was the reason that the Umma as a whole did not judge Sufism to be a bid’a down through the ages of Islamic civilization, but rather recognized it as the science of ikhlas or sincerity, so urgently needed by every Muslim on “a day when wealth will not avail, nor sons, but only him who brings Allah a sound heart” (Qur’an 26:88).
And Allah alone gives success.
©Nuh Ha Mim Keller 1995
A man was walking through the marketplace one afternoon when, just as the muezzin began the call to prayer, his eye fell on a woman’s back. She was strangely attractive, though dressed in fulsome black, a veil over head and face, and she now turned to him as if somehow conscious of his over-lingering regard, and gave him a slight but meaningful nod before she rounded the corner into the lane of silk sellers. As if struck by a bolt from heaven, the man was at once drawn, his heart a prisoner of that look, forever. In vain he struggled with his heart, offering it one sound reason after another to go his way—wasn’t it time to pray?—but it was finished: there was nothing but to follow.
He hastened after her, turning into the market of silks, breathing from the exertion of catching up with the woman, who had unexpectedly outpaced him and even now lingered for an instant at the far end of the market, many shops ahead. She turned toward him, and he thought he could see a flash of a mischievious smile from beneath the black muslin of her veil, as she—was it his imagination?—beckoned to him again.
The poor man was beside himself. Who was she? The daughter of a wealthy family? What did she want? He requickened his steps and turned into the lane where she had disappeared. And so she led him, always beyond reach, always tantalizingly ahead, now through the weapons market, now the oil merchants’, now the leather sellers’; farther and farther from where they began. The feeling within him grew rather than decreased. Was she mad? On and on she led, to the very edge of town.
The sun declined and set, and there she was, before him as ever. Now they were come, of all places, to the City of Tombs. Had he been in his normal senses, he would have been afraid, but indeed, he now reflected, stranger places than this had seen a lovers’ tryst.
There were scarcely twenty cubits between them when he saw her look back, and, giving a little start, she skipped down the steps and through the great bronze door of what seemed to be a very old sepulcher. A soberer moment might have seen the man pause, but in his present state, there was no turning back, and he went down the steps and slid in after her.
Inside, as his eyes saw after a moment, there were two flights of steps that led down to a second door, from whence a light shone, and which he equally passed through. He found himself in a large room, somehow unsuspected by the outside world, lit with candles upon its walls. There sat the woman, opposite the door on a pallet of rich stuff in her full black dress, still veiled, reclining on a pillow against the far wall. To the right of the pallet, the man noticed a well set in the floor.
“Lock the door behind you,” she said in a low, husky voice that was almost a whisper, “and bring the key.”
He did as he was told.
She gestured carelessly at the well. “Throw it in.”
A ray of sense seemed to penetrate for a moment the clouds over his understanding, and a bystander, had there been one, might have detected the slightest of pauses.
“Go on,” she said laughingly, “You didn’t hesitate to miss the prayer as you followed me here, did you?”
He said nothing.
“The time for sunset prayer has almost finished as well,” she said with gentle mockery. “Why worry? Go on, throw it in. You want to please me, don’t you?”
He extended his hand over the mouth of the well, and watched as he let the key drop. An uncanny feeling rose from the pit of his stomach as moments passed but no sound came. He felt wonder, then horror, then comprehension.
“It is time to see me,” she said, and she lifted her veil to reveal not the face of a fresh young girl, but of a hideous old crone, all darkness and vice, not a particle of light anywhere in its eldritch lines.
“See me well,” she said. “My name is Dunya, This World. I am your beloved. You spent your time running after me, and now you have caught up with me. In your grave. Welcome, welcome.”
At this she laughed and laughed, until she shook herself into a small mound of fine dust, whose fitful shadows, as the candles went out, returned to the darkness one by one.