Çeviri
The Literature and Theory of Ecstatic Expression
that his volition is taken up by God, and all his actions are
performed by God. The essential section is the following: “And My servant
continues drawing nearer to Me through supererogatory acts until I love him;
and when I love him, I become his ear with which he hears, his eye with which
he sees, his hand with which he grasps, and his foot with which he walks.”6
The importance of this Divine Saying for Sufism can scarcely be overestimated.
It “forms one of the cornerstones of mystical teaching in Sufism.”7
As the word of God to the Prophet, this saying stands as a constant reminder
of the possibility of union with God through devotion.
As far as we can tell, the first major development of the concept of
divine speech was the work of the sixth imam of the Shi'ah, Jafar al- Sadiq (d.
148/765). Respected for his piety and wisdom by all Islamic sects, Ja'far was
regarded especially highly by the Sufis, who took his Qur’an commentary as the
basis for their growing body of mystical Qur’anic literature. In his exegesis
of the theophany experienced by Moses on Mt. Sinai, Ja’far found the key to the
nature of divine speech in the words by which God identified Himself. According
to Ja'far, when God said to Moses, “I am I, your Lord (inni ana rabbuka)”
(Qur. 20.12), Moses then realized that
it is not proper for anyone but God to speak of himself by using
these words inni ana, “I am I.” I was seized by a stupor (dahsh),
and annihilation (fana) took place. I said then: "You? You are He
who is and who will be eternally, and Moses has no place with You nor the
audacity to speak, unless You let him subsist by your subsistence (baqa')
and You endow him with Your attribute.” ... He replied to me: "None but 1
can bear My speech, none can give me a reply; I am He who speaks and He who is
spoken to, and you are a phantom (shabah) between the two, in which
speech (khitab) takes place.”8
One of the striking things about this comment is that it reveals
selfhood as an exclusively divine prerogative. Only God has the right to say
“I.” This important point would later be stressed by Sufis such as Abu Sa'id
al-Kharraz (d. 279/892) and Abu Nasr al-Sarraj (d. 378/988).’ A further aspect
of Ja'far’s comment that greatly influenced Sufism was the use of the terms
“annihilation (fana)” and “subsistence (baqa)” which refer to the
disappearance of the human ego and the manifestation of the divine presence.
This would later be articulated by the Sufi Dhu al-Nun (d. ca. 246/859), who
was the first Sufi editor of Ja'far’s Qur’an commentary.10 Finally,
Ja'far interprets Moses’ experience of the divine speech as an event occurring
within the consciousness of a human being. One must agree with Nwyia that
Ja'far has described
precisely that which the Sufis designate by the technical term of shafh
or theopathic locution. Moses heard in himself the inni ana rabbuka,
Bistami will say subhani (glory be to Mel), and Hallaj, ana al-haqq
(I am the
Truth), but the phenomenon is the same: in none of these cases is
the subject of the sentence either Moses, Bistami, or Hallaj, but it is God
who speaks by and through the human consciousness."
Although
he does not use the term shath, Ja'far has described this phenomenon in
a way that will remain archetypal for later Sufis.
The
first widely quoted author of ecstatic sayings was Abu Yazid al- Bistami (d.
261/875), the Persian ascetic and mystic (known as Bayazid in Iran), who is
most famous for his phrase, “Glory be to Me! How great is My Dignity!” He did
harsh penances for many years, and then began to express his spiritual
experiences in a most daring language. He spoke of the annihilation of the
self, but he also described the experience of ascent into the presence of God,
comparable to the heavenly ascension (mi'raj) of Muhammad.12
The great Sufi master of Baghdad, Abu al- Qasim al-Junayd (d. 298/910),
gathered and discussed many of Bayazid’s sayings in a work called Tafsir
al-Shathiyat (“Commentary on the Ecstatic Expressions”). Junayd’s approach
was apparently based on sobriety (sahw), as opposed to the intoxication (sukr)
that he saw in Bayazid, but he regarded Bayazid’s sayings as significant data
of the mystical life. In some instances, he indicated that Bayazid’s sayings
did not emerge from the highest level of mystical experience. The largest collection
of Bayazid’s sayings is the Kitab al-Nur min Kalimat Abi Yazid Tayfur
(“The Book of Light from the Sayings of Abu Yazid Tayfur”), compiled by
al-Sahlaji (d. 476/1082-3) on the basis of reports going back to Bayazid’s
descendants. This book has been edited by 'Abd al-Rahman Badawi under the title
Shatahat al-Sufiyah.13 Junayd himself is credited with a
number of ecstatic sayings, despite his sobriety. Junayd’s commentary, and
many of Bayazid’s sayings, would not have survived without the valuable work of
Abu Nasr al-Sarraj (d. 378/988). A native of Tus in Khurasan, Sarraj was widely
travelled, and was an authoritative master in Sufism and law. He compiled his Kitab
al-Luma' fi al- Tasawwuf (“The Book of Glimmerings on Sufism”) as a guide
to all aspects of Sufism, designed to show that Sufism was completely in accord
with the principles and ordinances of Islam. The last of the twelve sections of
this book is entitled “The Commentary on Ecstatic Expressions, and Words that
are Externally Found Repulsive, Though they are Internally Correct and
Well-founded.” This section incorporates Junayd’s comments on Bayazid, as well
as sayings of Shibli, Nuri, Wasiti, and other early Sufis.
Sarraj
has developed a very interesting theory of shath and the conditions for
understanding it. His discussion, which is the earliest treatment of its kind,
deserves to be considered here at some length. In the following passage he
gives the etymology and definition of the term, and describes its essential
features:
If a questioner asks the meaning of shath, the answer is that
it means a strange-seeming expression describing an ecstasy that overflows
because of its power, and that creates commotion by the strength of its
ebullience and overpowering quality. This is shown by the fact that shath
in Arabic means “movement”. . . . The flour-sifting house is called “the
shaking house (al- mishtah)" because they shake the flour so much,
above the place where they sift it, and sometimes it spills over the edges from
so much shaking. Thus shath is a word derived from movement, because it
is the agitation of the intimate consciences of the ecstatics when their
ecstasy becomes powerful. They express that ecstasy of theirs by an expression
that the hearer finds strange-but he will be led astray to his perdition by
denying and refuting it when he hears it, and he will be safe and sound by
avoiding its denial and by searching out the difficulty in it by asking someone
who really knows it. This is one of its characteristics: have you ever noticed
that when a great deal of water is flowing in a narrow stream, it overflows its
banks? It is then said, “The water shataha (overflowed) in the stream.”
Therefore when the ecstasy of an aspirant becomes powerful, and he is unable to
endure the assault of the luminous spiritual realities that have come over his
heart, it appears on his tongue, and he expresses it by a phrase that is
strange and difficult for the hearer, unless he be worthy of it and have widely
encompassed the knowledge of it. And that, in the language of those who arc
familiar with technical terminology, is called shath.14
This is a learned and sophisticated description that presents a
number of concepts central to the understanding of shath. The sense of
the overflowing and spilling over of a powerful experience is the basic connotation
of this term. Yet Sarraj also stresses the component of knowledge in shath.
It is essential that the enquirer ask one “who really knows it (ya'lamu
'ilmahu)” one who has “widely encompassed the knowledge of it (mutabahhiran
fi 'ilmiha).” Evidently the ecstasy (wyd) and its strange-seeming
expression are by no means devoid of intellectual content, although the
determination of this content may be difficult.
Sarraj goes on to explain the kind of knowledge that is stressed in
Sufism, and the place it holds relative to the other branches of Islamic
knowledge. He articulates four kinds of knowledge: first, the knowledge of the
sayings of the Prophet; second, the knowledge of religious law and ordinances;
third, the knowledge of analogy, theory, and disputation, which protects the
faith against innovations and error; fourth, and highest of them all, the
knowledge of spiritual realities, stations, acts of piety, abstinence, and
contemplation of God.1J This last branch of knowledge is what we
call Sufism. Just as in any other kind of knowledge, says Sarraj, one must
always go to the experts in that particular science when there is a problem to
be solved, so in questions of spiritual realities one must approach the
appropriate experts, the Sufi masters, in order to understand properly their
sayings on this subject. For this reason, “it is inappropriate for anyone to
think that he encompasses all knowledge, lest he err in his opinion of the
sayings of the elect, and anathematize them and charge them with heresy (yukaffirahutn
wa yuzandiqahum), when he is devoid of experience in their states and the
stations of their spiritual realities and their actions.”'6 It is
from a clearly established theretical position that Sarraj formulates the
relation of mystical experience to the standard Islamic religious sciences, and
he does so in order to defuse serious accusations that have been brought
against Sufis in the past. He further points out that the Sufis are frequently
learned in the traditional fields of jurisprudence, hadith, and
disputation, in addition to their own speciality, while this is not true of the
experts in those fields.
Finally, Sarraj elaborates more on the stages of spiritual development
at which shathiyat are likely to occur:
Shath is less frequently found among
those who are perfected, since the latter are fully established in their
spiritual realities (ma'anihim). It is only one who is at a beginning
stage who falls into shath, one whose goal is union with the ultimate
perfection.17
Sarraj here contrasts the self-possession of the perfected soul with
the soul that is overpowered and cannot refrain from expressing shathiyat. He
considers this an experience of novices, at least in theory. There will be
occasion to question this judgement later on; if, after all, Bayazid’s utterances
were only the result of immature experiences, why did Junayd and Sarraj
consider them worthy of comment? Junayd’s explanation of Bayazid’s statements
is referred to as a tafsir, a word usually reserved for commentaries on
the Qur’an. If the view of shathiyat as characteristic of the beginner
is inconsistent with Sarraj’s real position, it may well be that his
explanation is intended to offer a ready excuse in cases where otherwise
heresy would be suspected. Furthermore, Sarraj ultimately derives the shath
of Bayazid from the celebrated Divine Saying on supererogatory worship (hadith
al-nawafil), as it obviously implies some sort of approximation to union
with God.18 Yet Sarraj’s caution kept him from mentioning Hallaj’s
ecstatic expressions in his discussion of shathiyat, although he
elsewhere refers to Hallaj’s execution. Evidently Sarraj deliberately avoided
reference to the controversial “I am the Truth” of Hallaj, in what is
admittedly an apologetic work.
Other writers of this era also discussed shath. One of them
was Abu Sa'd al-Khargushi (d. 406/1015) a pious Sufi of Nishapur who devoted
himself to building hospitals and caring for the sick. His lengthy work Tahdhib
al-Asrar (‘‘The Refinement of Consciences”) evidently has some . reference
to shath, but it remains in manuscript and has not been accessible to
me. According to Arberry, Khargushi favored sobriety over intoxication, so he
may have been cautious about approving ecstatic ut-
terances.19 The eminent Sufi biographer Abu 'Abd
al-Rahman al-Sulami (d. 412/1021) also referred to shath briefly, but in
the main copied the views of Sarraj.20
A restrained view of shath is given by Abu Hamid al-Ghazali
(d. 505/1111), who devoted a couple of pages to the subject in his massive
encyclopedia Ihya^'Ulum al-Din (“Revival of Religious Sciences”). There
' ’ Ghazali showed his great concern about the possibility of misinterpreting
these sayings. Ghazali distinguishes two kinds of shath. The first kind
consists of
broad, extravagant claims (made) in passionate love of God Most
High, in the union that is independent of outward actions, so that some go to
the extent of claiming unification, rending of the veil, contemplative vision
(of God), and oral conversation (with God). Then they say, “We were told
such-and-such, and we said such-and-such.” In this they resemble al- Husayn ibn
Mansur al-Hallaj, who was crucified for uttering words of this kind, and they
quote his saying, “I am the Truth.”
Ghazali goes on to say that this kind of talk is very dangerous to
the common people, because they lose their chance for salvation, since they
think that a purified soul that has attained spiritual states can dispense with
required actions. Ghazali concludes from this that “the killing of him who
utters something of this kind is better in the religion of God than the
resurrection of ten others.” The other kind of shath is that which is
unintelligible to the listener, regardless of whether it is merely confused
babbling or something which the speaker comprehends but cannot articulate
properly. Since this is bound to be interpreted ad lib., it is not
permissible to express such things publicly. Ghazali concludes by quoting
sayings from Jesus, to the effect that one should not cast pearls before swine.
In this exposition, Ghazali’s main concern is to prevent ordinary people from
being misled by difficult or strange sayings, even though he implicitly regards
them as valid for those who can understand. In the most mystical sayings,
however, he sees a real danger of antinomianism.21
The next author of importance for the study of shath is 'Ayn
al- Qudat Hamadani (d. 525/1131). He was a brilliant and audacious writer; his
sayings and his untimely execution will be studied in detail in parts II and
III. Although he pronounced many ecstatic sayings, especially in his Persian
writings, he only devoted a few pages to the theoretical explanation of shath,
in his Shakwa al-Gharib (“Stranger’s Lament”), composed during his final
imprisonment. His explanations are very similar to those of Sarraj, and he also
refers to the Divine Saying on supererogatory worship as the archetype of shath.21
While Sarraj in his Kitab ai-Luma' devoted some forty pages,
about one-tenth of the book, to a discussion of shathiyat, in Sharh-i
Shathiyat of Ruzbihan Baqii we have a complete treatise filling six hundred
pages
I
* in the edition of Henry Corbin. Ruzbihan Baqli Shirazi (d.
606/1209) is the pre-eminent authority on shath in Sufism, so that in
Iran he is known as Shaykh-i Shattah, “Doctor Ecstaticus.”23
His spiritual lineage goes back to Ibn al-Khafif (d. 372/982), one of the last
confidants of Hallaj before his execution. Ruzbihan is the most important
interpreter of Hallaj; he not only preserves many significant sayings and
interpretations of Hallaj, but also brings his own original vision to bear on
the subject. He originally composed his commentary on ecstatic sayings as a
treatise in Arabic entitled Mantiq al-Asrar fi Bayan al-Anwar (“The
Language of Consciences explaining their Illuminations”), and it was primarily
devoted to Hallaj, with other sayings added for completeness. At the request of
his disciples, he translated the book into Persian under the title Sharh-i
Shathiyat (“Commentary on Ecstatic Expressions”), increasing the volume of
the book substantially by giving accounts of his own experiences.24
This work is an extraordinarily rich exposition of the spiritual life, although
the idiosyncrasies of style in the Sharh are such that “it would be an
exaggeration to say that the Persian is much clearer than the Arabic original,”
as Corbin dryly remarks.23 Yet this work has a strange and
fascinating beauty. As Annemarie Schimmel observes,
What so profoundly impresses the reader in Ruzbihan’s writings ...
is his style, which is at times as hard to translate as that of Ahmad Ghazzali
and possesses a stronger and deeper instrumentation. It is no longer the
scholastic language of the early exponents of Sufism, who tried to classify
stages and stations, though Baqli surely knew these theories and the technical
terms. It is the language refined by the poets of Iran during the eleventh and
twelfth centuries, filled with roses and nightingales, pliable and colorful.26
< The work is composed on roughly chronological lines. After a
long in- [ troduction on the
aims and theories of this commentary, Ruzbihan
[. describes the
origins of shath in the theophanic elements of the Qur’an
and hadith.
Then, after discussing the shathiyat of the Prophet's compa-
f nions, Ruzbihan gives a total of 192 ecstatic expressions of
forty-five different Sufis, from Ibrahim ibn Adham (d. ca. 174/790) to Abu
Sa'id ibn Abi al-Khayr (d. 440/1049). A number of these authors are scarcely
known to history, and these are usually represented here by only one or two
sayings. Among the most prominent authors are Abu Bakr al-Wasiti (d. ca.
320/932) and Abu al-Hasan al-Husri (d. 371/981), each with over a dozen
sayings, while special emphasis is given to the twenty-two sayings of Abu Bakr
al-Shibli (d. 334/945) and the thirty-one sayings of Bayazid. Yet the place of
honor is reserved for Hallaj. Forty-five of his sayings are commented on, as
well as his twenty-five spiritual hadith (the Riwayat), and the
composite book known as the Kitab al-Tawasin. Thus one-third of the Sharh-i
Shathiyat is devoted to Hallaj. In terms of completeness, it
I
may be pointed out that Ruzbihan did not apparently have access to
the works of some Sufis from north-western Iran or Transoxania. He never refers
to the Sufi martyr ‘Ayn al-Qudat Hamadani, whose work shows such strong
parallels to his own. As for sources, it is clear that Ruzbihan was thoroughly
familiar with the Kitab al-Luma' of Sarraj. He not only borrowed from
Sarraj a number of technical explanations and commen- ' taries on individual shathiyat,
but also drew on him for some twentyeight quotations from five different
authors.
In the introduction to his book, Ruzbihan has given an eloquent
description of his purpose in clarifying the words of the saints, so that those
who do not comprehend will refrain from the error of persecuting the saints;
When 1
bent my head in contemplation and read in the famous books of the leaders in
gnosis, I recognized the disparities in their states through their sayings. It
was clear to me that the subtleties and allusions of those who are rooted in
gnosis are bestowed by the states that come upon them, and I saw that the
understanding of that knowledge is difficult. Language becomes manifest in the
form of shathiyat particularly for those intoxicated ones who are
drowned in the waves of eternity, on account of the thundering clouds experienced
in the moment of profound sighs, in the reality of overwhelming raptures. From
each of their words, a world of learned men is filled with consternation. The
deniers have drawn forth the sword of ignorance from the scabbard of envy, and
from foolishness are wielding it themselves. . . . God’s jealous ones cried out
from the wombs of the hidden world, “O witness of secrets and niche of lights!
Free the holy spirits from denial by the bankrupt, show forth the long past of
those who kill and crucify in sacrifice! Say the secret of thes/io/A of the
lovers, and the expression of the agitation of the intoxicated, in the language
of the people of the inner reality and the outer law! Say every subtlety in the
form of knowledge connected with a spiritual state, and the guidances of Qur’an
and hadith. (Say all this as) a subtle and marvellous commentary . . .”27
Ruzbihan is inspired to write upon the difficulties of shathiyat
in terms of his knowledge of the spiritual experiences from which they derive,
though they are incomprehensible and frightening to the learned religious
scholars. Therefore he is called upon to reveal the connection between the
inner reality and the outward law, to explain the knowledge (’ Um)
inherent in the spiritual states, and to show its conformity with the data of
revelation enshrined in the Qur’an and hadith.
One can see the extent to which Ruzbihan is moved by the persecutions
and martyrdoms suffered by the prophets and the saints by the fact that he
devotes chapters three and six to a recitation and litany of “the persecution
of the folk,” as he describes it. Dwelling on the inevitable sufferings of
those who are close to God, he makes it clear that uttering incomprehensible
spiritual sayings, and being oppressed by those who do not possess the inner
knowledge or science of it, are both part of the destiny of the lovers of God.
After proceeding through several chapters that describe the virtues and
attainments of “the men of shath,” Ruz- bihan once again shows what an
important position Hailaj has in this science of shath\
The
sole object of all this is the commentary (tqfsir) of the shathiyat
of Hailaj, that I might remove the occasion for refutation, and comment upon
his enigmas in the language of the religious law (shari'at) and the
spiritual reality (haqiqat). The quality of his sayings is stranger than
all others, just as his deeds were stranger than all others, since he mostly
speaks in terms of “I-ness (ana’iyal).” The path to his spiritual
reality became incomprehensible in the sight of the imperfect. We are removing
the murky doubts from the clear face of reality. Know that that dear one had
fallen into “essential union (Pers, 'ayn-i jam').” He was drowned in the
limitless ocean of eternity, pure ecstasy overcame him. He entered into that
sea with the quality of creaturehood, and he departed with the character of
lordship. From the depth of that ocean he brought forth the pearls of
everlastingness. None saw, and none heard, for some said he was a magician,
and some said he was a conjurer, some said he was mad, and some said he was a
heretic. Few said that he was truthful. Yes, some who were ignorant spoke thus
(in condemnation), but since it is the prophetic norm (sunnah), prophets
are called magician and conjurer.2»
As in
the case of Sarraj, part of the purpose of Ruzbihan’s work is apologetic, as it
attempts to remove the basis for criticism by externalists; this is to be
accomplished by demonstrating that the shathiyat are in conformity, not
only with the spiritual reality (haqiqat) revealed in a mystical state (hai),
but also with the religious law (shaiTat), which is applicable to ail
of the faithful. Another interesting feature is the characteristic application
of the epithet “strange” (gharib) to Hailaj, who was frequently termed al-'alim
al-gharib, or “Doctor Singularis” as Massignon translated it. More
importantly, Ruzbihan is here introducing several technical terms that are
crucial to his interpretation of the Halla- jian shathiyat. First is the
term ana’iyat (“I-ness”), which is the form of the word favored by
Ruzbihan; Hailaj uses the term aniyah, while later writers use the term ananiyah.29
The problematic nature of the ego in an intense confrontation with God is
probably the most sensitive topic raised by the shathiyat of Hailaj and
Bayazid. When the contemplative is experiencing annihilation of his ego and
direct converse with God, it is a very delicate question, from moment to
moment, as to the actual identity of the speaker. A second important term here
is “essential union ('ayn al- jam'),” which was used by Junayd to
describe the state of Bayazid. According to Ruzbihan, this term does not have
the odium theologicum of the term “incarnationism (huiul),” and
he often uses the synonym “unification (ittihad).”30 The
basic import of these terms is that the most important topic of shathiyat
is the possible union of the human with the divine, which is the question of
the nature of selfhood.
In the chapter devoted to the meaning of the term shath,
Ruzbihan begins with the lexicographical example already given by Sarraj, of
the mill-house where grain is sifted by shaking. He continues to follow Sar-
raj’s lead, but adds enough of his own interpretation to make a full
translation worthwhile:
Then
in the vocabulary of the Sufis, shath is derived from the agitations of
the intimate consciences of their hearts. When ecstasy becomes strong and the
light of manifestation becomes elevated in the inmost part of their consciences,
by the quality of the annunciation and revelation and strengthening of the
spirits illuminated by the inspiration that appears in their intellects, it
stirs up the fire of their longing for the eternal Beloved. They reach the
vision of the seraglio-curtain of Majesty, and they are moving in the world of
beauty. When they see the objects of contemplation in the hidden, and the
secrets of the hidden of the hidden, and the mysteries of
greatness—intoxication enters in upon them unasked, the soul enters into
ebullience, the consciousness enters into commotion, the tongue enters into
speech. Speech comes forth from the ecstatic, from his incandescent state (hat)
and from his spirit’s exaltation, regarding the science of the stations (maqamat).
The outward form of it is symbolic (mutashabih). It is an expression
the words of which are found to be strange. When others do not understand the
inner aspect through the outward forms, and they do not see the method of it,
they are led astray to denial and refutation of the speaker.”
This description contains basically the same elements found in
Sarraj’s definition, already quoted, of the overflowing of ecstasy into speech,
and the necessity of having the true knowledge or science ('ilm) of
inner experience in order to understand shath. Ruzbihan adds a certain
stress on the differentiation of inner experiences, referring to the state (hal)
and the stations (maqamaf) of the path, while at the same time
transforming this into a characteristically poetic invocation by his series of
balanced clauses.
One of the most striking aspects of Ruzbihan’s interpretation is his
assimilation of shathiyat to the expressions in the Qur’an and hadith
known as enigmatic utterances (mutashabihaf). Certain verses of the
Qur’an, particularly those that symbolically describe God in physical terms
(hand, face, sitting on the throne), cannot be taken literally without
anthropomorphism. In the following passage, Ruzbihan follows a method of
symbolic exegesis whereby the enigmatic sayings of the Qur’an, hadith,
and shath are seen as revelations of the divine Attributes and Names,
while the actions of the Prophet Muhammad serve as a perfect mirror for those
Attributes. For the common people, it is necessary to accept the divine origin
of these sayings without asking why. Only for the elect is it permissible to
delve into interpretation, for they possess knowledge Çilm), a knowledge
that by its very nature is esoteric.
If God gives assistance to an insightful person, so that his insight
hits the mark, he restrains his tongue from denial and does not inquire into
the allusions of shath. He has faith in their (the saints’)
truthfulness in symbolic speech. He escapes from the calamity of denial,
because their shath is symbolism (mutashabih) like the symbolism
of the Qur’an and hadith. Know that the principle of the unvarying shath
(i.e., the Qur’an) is in the Attributes; it is the symbolism of the
Attributes. In the word of the Messenger (i.e., hadith), displaying the
secrets of the revelations of the Attributes occurs through the form of
actions . . . When the ocean of eternity rolled back from the shore of
non-existence, it displayed the pearls of the Attributes and Qualities and
Names in an unknown guise. From the pleasure of passionate love, the loquacity
of his lover’s soul became agitated by the overwhelming fragrances of love.
From the ocean of symbolism, he cast forth the shathiyat of love.
Both divine and prophetic symbolism come as a testing
for the faithful of the community, so that they confess to the outward aspect
and do not examine the inward aspect, so that they do not fall into
anthropomorphism, imagination, or agnosticism regarding the Attributes, by a
denial of symbolic meanings. It is not right for the common people to discuss
the investigation of symbolic meanings of exegesis (ta'wil). They
recite the verse, “They will say, ‘Our God, we had faith’” (Qur. 23.109). In
the same way, they have no share in the symbolism of hadith except
faith. The saints, (on the other hand, are referred to in the verse) “and none knows
the exegesis of it save God and those rooted in knowledge” (Qur. 3.7). For
others there is faith, but for them there is gnosis in the problems of
symbolism.32
As
Ruzbihan reveals, the esoteric principle of knowledge looks to this Qur’ahic
verse 3.7 for its support. The usual reading of this text is quite different; a
period is generally placed after “God,” so that the full verse reads: “And
those with error in their hearts follow the symbolic part, desiring dissension
and desiring its exegesis, but none knows the exegesis of it save God. And
those who are firmly rooted in knowledge say, ‘We have faith in it. . .*”
Ruzbihan’s reading was, however, supported by 'one of the earliest Qur’an
scholars, Mujahid (d. 104/722).n This verse >as in fact widely
used to support the esoteric principle of knowledge. The Andalusian philosopher
Ibn Rushd (Averroes) maintained that the Hmmon people must necessarily read
this verse with the period in the iddle, so that for them, only God knows the
interpretation; the elect mt read this verse without the period, since their
knowledge is Smonstrably in accord with the truth?4 In the same way
Ruzbihan in- jtsthat the saints have a gnosis that entitles them to interpret
the sym- sfic sayings in Qur’an, hadith, and shath.
In summarizing
his theory of shath, Ruzbihan introduces the key terms in his vocabulary
of mystical union. Essential union Çayn al-jam'), a classical term used
by Junayd, is now presented in company with "the clothing of the human
with the divine (iltibas).”
The principles of symbolism in shath are from three sources:
the source of the Qur’an, the source of hadith, and the source of the
inspiration of the saints. But that which comes in the Qur’an is the mention of
the Attributes and the isolated letters, and that which is in hadith is
the vision of the clothing of the human with the divine (iltibas). That
which is in the inspiration of the saints is the Qualities of God in the form
of the clothing of the human with the divine. This takes place in the station
of passionate love and the reality of unification, in gnosis and unknowings (nakirat),
in divine ruses (makariyat). The proclamation of the Attribute belongs
to those who are “rooted in knowledge” (Qur. 3.7), for their station is the
contemplation of eternity. The deserts on which their paths lie are too hot for
conventional wayfarers, who have no aptitude for the comprehension of the
enigmas of the symbolism of the Attributes. God’s shath is that
symbolism which proclaims essential union (Pers. ’ ayn-i jam' ) and the
clothing of the human with the divine Attributes in the station of passionate
love; in that station is the knowledge ('Um) which was God’s
qualification in preeternity. With that (shath) He discourses to the
famous among His lovers . .
This passage
reveals the breath-taking scope that shath has assumed in the mysticism
of Ruzbihan. With an authority that follows directly upon that of God and the
Prophet, the saints’ status and utterances must be accepted by the faith of
the generality of believers. This, in effect, makes of the shathiyat of
the saints a supplementary canon, formed by the uninterrupted contact that God
maintains with the elect. The clothing of humanity with divinity, first enacted
on the primordial Adam, is manifest in the form of Muhammad, and is created
anew, by God’s grace, in the saints. Love and unification are equated with
"gnosis and unknowings. . . (and) divine ruses,” an intriguing combination
that is discussed below. After invoking once again the Qur’anic sanction for
esoteric knowledge, Ruzbihan effortlessly unites the concepts of essential
union, clothing with divinity, and the primordial “knowledge” that was God’s in
pre-eternity. All these together are nothing but the shath of God, by
which He converses with His lovers. Ruzbihan’s theoretical discussion of the
nature of the shath does not necessarily solve any problems. Rather, it
evokes profound mysteries, which, by their very nature, are resistant to
analysis. He does, nonetheless, provide intimations and allusions (isharat)
that point to the goal of this difficult path.
These
are the literary legacies of shath. The term continued to be used, but
in a somewhat artifical literary ways. In 1086/1675, the Meccan shaykh Ibrahim
al-Kawrani (d. 1101/1688-9) gave a formal defense of a shath uttered by
one of his Javanese disciples, Hamzah al-Fansuri: “God Most High is our seif
and our existence, and we are His self and His existence.” This saying, far
from being ecstatic, is a simple formulation of Ibn 'Arabi’s theory of oneness
of existence. 'Abd at-Ghani al-Nabuiusi (d. 1140-1/1728) wrote another defense
of this saying in 1139/1727, and it is again an exposition of the theory of Ibn
'Arabi.50 In 1151/1738, an otherwise obscure Indian Sufi named 'Aziz
Allah of Bijapur compiled the Durr-i Maknun, a collection of shathiyat
combined with moral and religious advice, and arranged by topic. As with Dara’s
collection, its chief interest lies in the shathiyat uttered by later
Indian Sufis. Though it offers no new critical perspective, it deserves a more
extended treatment than we can give here.51 We even see the word shath
being used to describe an “ascension” poem written by a thirteenth/nineteenth
century Sudanese Sufi, which is recited annually at the celebration of the
birth of the Prophet.52 Such self-conscious literary and theoretical
productions seem far removed from the early ecstatic utterances.
Ecstatic
expressions, we are told, are sayings that derive from ecstasy. The Sufi
interpreters maintain that the sayings in some way describe the original
ecstasy, although this description can only be comprehended by one who knows
the state from actual experience. Those who are not graced with the knowledge C
ilm) that God grants to the elect must seek out the interpretation of a
qualified master. Since I do not, for the purposes of this study, claim any
sort of esoteric knowledge, I therefore approach the study of shathiyat
through the authoritative works of Ruzbihan and Sar- raj. Their general
definitions and approaches have been given, and now it will be appropriate to
consider the principal topics of shathiyat. First, and most important,
is the nature of selfhood, divine and human. Second is transcendence of the
created, expressed as “the isolation of the eternal from the temporal,” which
is the way to unification. Third is the paradoxical stress on “unknowing” as
the only way to reach real knowledge. Following the discussion of these topics
is a consideration of the unusual and provocative forms of expression in shathiyat,
variously interpreted as divine madness, perception of the divine presence in
nature, and saintly boasting. The final section deals with the nature of shath
as a testimony to the reality and presence of God.
1. SELFHOOD
Probably
the most important topic of early shathiyat was, as Ruzbihan pointed
out, the question of selfhood, or in his terminology, “I-ness (ana’iyat)."
Over one third of the nearly two hundred shathiyat in Ruzbihan’s
collection are spoken in the first person, making some statement about the
nature and experience of the self. Bayazid and Hallaj are most prominent in
speaking on this subject. In a particularly condensed saying, Bayazid said, “My
‘1 am’ is not ‘I am,’ because I am He, and I am ‘he is He.”*55
Sahlaji gives a fuller version of the same saying, which may ' be paraphrased
as follows: “My ‘I* is not the human ‘I,’ it is the divine ‘I.’ Since my ‘1’ is
He, I am ‘he is He.’”54 This saying reports on an experience of
deification that the Sufis codified under the phrase, “he is He (huwa
huwa).” This phrase stands for the doctrine of God’s gift of divine
qualities to the primordial man in the pre-creational state.55
Bayazid is not asserting that his ordinary ego is God; he says that the only
real identity is God, and that God is the only one who has the right to say “I
am.” Just as with Ja'far al-Sadiq’s exegesis of the Sinai theophany, the egoconsciousness
of the human disappears under the impact of the divine “I am I, your Lord.”
Bayazid’s “I” has been replaced with the divine “I,” and therefore he says, “I
am He; I am ‘he is He.’” In another saying, Bayazid indicates that his first
presentiments of this union came through the abandonment of a spiritual
practice that he had followed for years: “For thirty years I was hidden from
God. My absence from Him was my recollection (dhikr) of Him. When I
refrained (from dhikr), I saw Him in every state, to such a degree that
it was as if I were He.”56 In this case Bayazid alludes to a state
of quasi-identification with God, after his abandonment of the recollection of
the name of God, a practice which for him must still have had ego-connections.
In both these instances one may point to the elimination of the ego as the
prerequisite for experiencing the divine self.
If the
boundaries of the human ego are breached, then it is understandable that there
should be fluctuation in the perception of the “I.” Is one’s identity lost
forever, or is it replaced by the divine? The same issue occurs in the story of
the man who came looking for Bayazid and knocked on his door. Bayazid said,
“Who do you want?” The man answered, “I am looking for Bayazid.” Bayazid
replied, “For thirty years Bayazid has been looking for Bayazid and has not
seen him, so how will you see him?”57 In another saying, made
perhaps after his thirty years of incredible austerities, Bayazid addressed God
thus: “You were a mirror for me, and then I became the mirror.”5’
This metaphor is one of the fundamental symbols in mystical literature
throughout the world; the mirror held up to the divine reality denotes the
purified conscience that reflects the form of the real self without obscurity
or distortion.
As to
how this “mirror” appears to the rest of creation, we can see from this famous
saying: “He took me up and set me before Him. He said, ‘Bayazid! My creatures
desire to see You.’ I said, ‘Array me in Your oneness and clothe me with Your
selfhood, and bring me to Your unity, so that when Your creatures see me, they
will see You. There it will be You, and I will not be there.”*59
Later mystics will call this the clothing with divine selfhood (iitibas).
Bayazid has also presented transformation of identity in the opposite image of
a snake shedding its skin: “I shed my self (nafsi) as a snake sheds its
skin, then I looked at myself, and behold! I was He (ana huwa).”60
A remarkable variety of images conveys the sense of radical transformation of
selfhood.
Hallaj
has also given many subtle comments on identity in his shathiyat. In one
place he said, “I wonder at You and me. You annihilated me out of myself into
You. You made me near to Yourself, so that I thought that I was You and You
were me.”61 The complete poem from which Ruzbihan translated these
lines conveys Hallaj’s intense awareness of God’s presence in all of his
thoughts and moods. Hallaj seems to refer here to an imagined union, and
Ruzbihan explains it as the fancy (wahm) born of human weakness as it
contemplates the All, and he adds, “The intoxicated speak in this way
frequently, even though they know that the Essence of divinity is unattainable
by the created.”62 If there was still any ego left in him, he was
not sufficiently purified of self, and must undergo complete self-negation. In
a bolder metaphor, Hallaj said, “My spirit mixes with your spirit, in nearness
and in distance, so that I am You, just as You are I.”63 This is
actually a truncated version of a poem in the Diwan, which is even more
remarkable in its imagery: “Your spirit was mixed in my spirit, just like wine
and clear water, and if something touches You, it touches me, for You are I in
every state.”64 In another poem transmitted by Ruzbihan, Hallaj put
it thus: “Praise be to Him whose humanity manifested the secret of the splendor
of His radiant divinity, and who then appeared openly to His people, in the
form of one who eats and drinks!”63 These verses have been
criticized, not only by the Hanbali jurist Ibn Taymiyah but also by Hallaj’s
friend Ibn al- Khafif, because they seemed to imply a semi-Christian doctrine
of incar- natin (hulul).66 Ruzbihan explains, however, that
Ibn Khafif either did not realize that these verses were by Hallaj (whom he
revered as “a divine master”), or he was thinking of the effect of this verse
on the externalists, whose inner conviction is weak. The Sufis understand this
verse as an allusion to the station of clothing with the divine (iitibas),
and they hold that this poem describes the primordial man, the eternal logos
of Muhammad, as the manifestation of divine qualities.67
Another
controversial shath of Hallaj was a letter by him, produced at one of
his trials, which began, “From the Compassionate, the Merciful, to so-and-so .
. .” When he was charged with claiming divinity for himself, he replied, “No!
But this is essential union (Pers, 'ayn-i jarn). None understands this
but the Sufis.”68 In this case Hallaj used the term "essential
union” to identify the spiritual state that was the source of this letter. In
another poem, Hallaj said,
Is it
You or I? That would be two gods in me;
far,
far be it from You to assert duality!
The
“He-ness” that is Yours is in my nothingness
prevented
from seeing the deification (unification) of Adam, because, secure in the pride
of his own knowledge, he had refused to submit to unknowing. Here Hallaj has
been playing with the grammatical meaning of marifah and nakirah
as signifying not only knowledge (gnosis) and ignorance (unknowing), but also
the definite noun and the indefinite noun in Arabic grammar.115 The
definite noun, of which one has knowledge (ma'rifah), is preceded by the
definite article al-, the Arabic letters alif and lam,
thus conferring ordinary existance on the noun. To deny the existence of
something, one uses the word “no” Oust the reverse, la or lam-alif)
as a generic negation, followed by the noun in the indefinite (nakirah).
If the excessively literal Iblis had grasped the full meaning of negation, he
could have followed the path of transcendence to its ultimate conclusion: “The
beginning (of the path) is symbolizations (of the divine Attributes, mutashabihaf),
and there are clearly beheld visions in the symbolizations. The end (of the
path) is unknowings, because of the holy manifestation of the Attributes (which
cannot be comprehended directly except by unknowing).”'16
4. MADNESS, AUDACITY, AND
BOASTING
So far
the discussion of shathiyat has dwelt on extremely subtle and abstract
subjects — identity, transcendence, unknowing —but there is another side to the
phenomenon of shath. There are many examples of shath expressed,
not through speech, but through action, and in addition, there are sayings
that are rude, violent, and shocking, hardly the sort of thing one expects of
respectable mystics,
There
is one class of such audacious acts that falls under the heading of apparent
madness or loss of consciousness of one’s surroundings. For instance, Abu
al-Husayn at-Nuri on one occasion received a large inheritance. He proceeded
to throw the money into the Tigris, crying, “My friend, you thought to deceive
me with this much!”117 Critics blamed Nuri for his insane
wastefulness, but Ruzbihan praised him for his selfpossession in eliminating a
veil between him and God; Nuri had deliberately counted out the coins one by
one before throwing them away. It is likely that Nuri was addressing God as the
friend who had attempted to deceive him thus, for God lays many a ruse (makf)
for the unsuspecting. Another example, more understandable as a case of being
overwhelmed by ecstasy, is that of Hisham ibn 'Abdan al-Shirazi, who refrained
from food, drink, and prayer for a year; ecstasy is considered an excuse for
not performing obligatory prayers, by analogy with madness.118 The
story of Abu Sahl al-Baydawi gives a rather different twist to the problem of
ecstasy. His disciple in attendance was a farmer, and since it was time for him
to water the crops, he was in a quandary
whether
to desert his entranced master or let his crop fail. The master opportunely
emerged from ecstasy and told the disciple to go attend to his fields.119
Another interesting story concerning actions during ecstasy is the tale of Abu
Bakr al-Tamistani. Once while wandering he fell in with a band of drunken
thieves, who were having a music party. Because of the intensity of his delight
in the music, which increased his ecstasy, the thieves derived such benefit
that they all repented from their evil way of life.120 Shaykh
Ibrahim al-A'raj, imam of the great mosque of Shiraz, one day during prayer had
a conceited thought about the fact that he was the imam. In contrition, he
began at once to walk on his hands in front of the first line of worshippers,
much to their amusement, and he never acted as imam again.121 These
incidents are all the sort of thing that a madman might have done. Like the
madman, the ecstatic who is unconscious of the world is not responsible for
his actions. People who acted in this way were considered to be holy fools, and
they could say the most outrageous things, even insult God, without being
punished.122
Another
class of audacious actions is that inspired by an overwhelming sense of the
divine presence in nature. Some of the mystics who had this experience
expressed it by addressing God in whatever form they saw or heard Him.
Theologians considered the resulting utterances to be evidence of belief in the
incarnation of God in bodies. Here are a few examples: “They called Abu
al-Gharib (al-Isfahani) an incarnationist (hululi), because when clear
water was trickling over a lawn, he laughed sweetly with the lip of love, from
the ebullition of love; he alluded to ‘essential union (Pers, 'ayn-iyarn').*”123
Wasiti explained this by producing another shath, saying, “Sometimes
existence laughs with the mouth of power, with the mouths of the Lord.” Other
instances of hearing the voice of God in nature are mentioned in the cases of
Abu Hamzah al- Isfahani, who responded with “Here am I, Lord (labbayk)?’
to the bleating of al-Muhasibi’s sacrificial goat, and Nuri, who made the same
reply to the barking of a dog.124 According to Ruzbihan, these
sayings derive from the state of essential union, and are really on the highest
level of sha th.
The
surprising quality of these actions of shath is matched by the audacious
and aggressive nature of some of the sayings. A perfect example of this is the
encounter between Hallaj and 'Ali ibn Sahl in Isfahan. 'Ali was sitting with a
circle of his followers, when Hallaj approached and sat down in front of him,
saying, “You, shopkeeper! You speak of gnosis, while I am alive? Between
sobriety and ravishment (jstilam) there are seven hundred steps that you
do not know or even scent.” 'Ali replied to him, “You should not be in a town
where Muslims live.” Although Hallaj did not understand these words, since 'Ali
spoke in Persian, the message must have been clear. Having been advised that
his life was in danger, Hallaj left town that night.125 Ruzbihan
sees in this a reflection of the divine jealousy, for a hadith has it
that “if the hidden saints (abdat)
became
aware of one another, some would hold the others’ blood as licit.” The
misunderstandings of Moses and Khidr (Qur. 18.60-82) are also examples of holy
persons not seeing eye to eye. Further, the two men exemplify the two widely
separated states to which Hallaj alluded, sobriety C AH) and intoxication
(Hallaj).126 Another such encounter took place in Shibli’s assembly,
when a man fainted in apparent ecstasy. Shibli commanded that the man be thrown
into the Tigris, saying, “If he is sincere, he will escape, like Moses, and if
he is a liar he will drown, like Pharaoh."127 The man evidently
survived his ordeal; Shibli found him the next day working in his smithy, and
when he passed Shibli a piece of red-hot iron with his bare hand, Shibli calmly
took it and tucked it into his sleeve. Ruzbihan concludes, “This action is from
the jealousy of gnosis, and jealousy is an attribute of God. . . . This
wrangling (munaqarah) of the prophets and saints is exemplary
(sunna/i).”12’ Sometimes this rivalry extended retrospectively, and
included deceased saints. Wasiti said, “They all died in delusion, up to
Bayazid, and he also died in delusion.”129 Likewise Shibli said, “If
Abu Yazid were here, he could become Muslim with the aid of our children.”130
These are all examples of divine jealousy, which makes the lover give himself
wholly to the Beloved, without admitting any thought of others.
In
some cases, the audacity of shath even turns against the role of the
Prophet. Bayazid heard someone saying, “All creatures will be under the banner
of Muhammad!” He replied, “My banner is greater than the banner of Muhammad!”131
Ruzbihan explains this as Bayazid’s being filled with the light of divine
manifestation after abandoning the two worlds; he speaks with the
presumptuousness of the servant of a great king, who identifies himself with
his master. Once Hallaj was accused of pretending to prophethood. He said,
“Shame on you! You make so little of my worth!”132 The implication
of this remark is that it would be beneath his dignity for Hallaj merely to
claim to be a prophet; it is he, after all, who said, "I am the Truth.”
The audacity of this saying goes so far beyond the bounds of propriety that
even Ruzbihan handles it gingerly, reminding the reader of Hallaj’s praises of
Muhammad in the Tawasin, and mentioning Hallaj’s discussion with the
Christians of Jerusalem, in which he declared himself a humble follower of
Muhammad. Some cases of audacity verge on the grotesque, as in Shibli’s saying,
“God has some servants who could extinguish the fires of hell by spitting into
hell.”133
The
audacity of shath is also, of course, directed against God. Abu al-Hasan
al-Kharaqani represented himself as having wrestled with God, in a story
reminiscent of Jacob’s: “One morning I went out, and God came before me. He
wrestled with me and I wrestled with Him. I continued wrestling with Him until
He threw me down.”134 Bayazid even treated the divine word with
contumely. Once when he heard the call to prayer, “God is great,” he said, “I
am greater than He!*’133 In the same way, when he heard the verse,
“Surely thy Lord’s assault is terrible” (Qur.
85.12,
trans. Arberry), Bayazid replied, “By His life! My assault is more terrible than
His!”IJ6 Hellmut Ritter has discerned in these sayings of Bayazid
the experience that Ruzbihan calls iltibas, being clothed with divinity:
“He is then clothed with the qualities of God, and he sometimes feels this
clothing with the qualities of God more vividly than the qualities of the
transcendent God, who is spoken of in the Koran and in the call to prayer.”137
Sometimes the more daring shathiyat of this type have been too much for
later Sufis to accept. Bayazid’s statement, “I set up my tent over against the
cupola (over the throne of God),” was considered by al-Harawi as infidelity
according to the sharTah and distance from God according to the haqiqahV*
These
audacious and aggressive sayings are not without precedent in Islamic
literature. We can find the rhetorical basis for this audacity in the ancient
boasting-contest (mufakharah) of the pre-Islamic Arabs. In these
contests, poets would lavishly praise the honor of their own tribes and heap
abuse on their opponents, in a ritual performance that had a distinctly
religious (or socio-reiigious) character. According to Bichr Farès, in this
kind of sacred feud, “the individual forces are stimulated to the extent of
bringing about a complete transfiguration of the individual.”'39 The
similarity between this pagan vaunting-match and the wrangling (munaqarah)
of the saints is too obvious to be denied. In fact, the moderate Sufi author
Abu al-Najib al-Suhrawardi (d. 563/1168) corroborates this in his widely used
manual of conduct for Sufi novices, Adab al-Muridin. In the lengthy
section on the dispensations (rukhas) or permissible deviations from the
rules, Suhrawardi says the following:
Among the
(dispensations) are boasting and publicizing one’s claim (to spiritual states).
In this matter, their standard is that one should intend to publicize the
bounties of God, who is exalted above it. “Indeed speak of the bounty of your
Lord” (Qur. 93.11). That is (permissible) in the raptures of a spiritual state
or in a boasting-contest (mufakharah) with an adversary.’40
Suhrawardi
goes on to quote magnificent boasts made by the Prophet in a state of
expansion, and he recalls an incident in which the poet Hassan ibn Thabit, on
behalf of Muhammad, triumphed over the Banu Darim tribe in a boasting-match. It
is precisely the same sort of phenomenon that we see in the shathiyat
contests of the saints, when one outrageous statement is outdone by the next.
If we
can believe the biography of Ruzbihan, the sober Suhrawardi got a strong dose
of this type of behavior when the two men met in Medina. They got into a debate
on the subject of the relative merits of the sober wayfarer and the enraptured
saint as models for imitation. The argument grew heated, as Suhrawardi
challenged the younger man’s sanity (Suhrawardi was thirty-two years older),
and Ruzbihan was overcome by a spiritual state. He said, “May God hide my state
from youl I am standing on the mountain-top, and you are sitting on the flat
ground!” He then marched off alone into the desert. Three nights later,
Suhrawardi had a dream in which the angel Gabriel made clear to him that
Ruzbihan’s status was far beyond that of all the saints of the age. On
Ruzbihan’s return, Suhrawardi found him listening to music. Before Suhrawardi
could say a word, Ruzbihan told him, “Unless they show you Ruzbihan’s state
from heaven, they will not make you acknowledge us a second time.” Ruzbihan
then caught him up in the dancing and the weeping, presumably this time to
reveal this state to him directly and not through a dream.141 While
this story is partly a hagiographie glorification of Ruzbihan by his
descendants, it gives an authentic picture not only of the attitudes of the
two Sufis, but also of the form that this boasting frequently took.
Was
this an authentic form of spiritual behaviour? Ibn 'Arabi thought it was a
self-indulgence. He said, “Ecstatic expressions indicate one’s degree relative
to God by following the path of pride (fakhr). That is done by
likenesses and images. God forbid that His people get mixed up with likenesses
or start boasting! For this reason shath is a frivolity of the carnal
soul . . .”142 Yet in Ruzbihan’s mind, wrangling (munaqarah) was
a prophetic norm to be followed as part of the imitation of the Prophet’s
example. It was not a personal expression, but a formal and stylized ritual, in
which divine inspiration revealed itself by boasting. Doubtless this sort of
ritual activity could be abused, but in theory Ruzbihan’s view is defensible.
Beyond this, the explanations presented here have also stressed the influence
of the divine Attribute of jealousy and the overwhelming effect of being
clothed with divine selfhood. In a suggestive remark, Hallaj pointed out how
love creates intimacy with God in the innermost layer of the heart. “Love (mahabbat)
is from the seed (hab- bat) of the heart. The seed of the heart is its
pith (Jubb), the pith is the locus of the subtlety {la t if ah),
the subtlety is the place of God, and the place of God is dalliance (tamalluq)
with Him.”143 It is also, one suspects, the freedom of this intimate
relationship with God that confers on the lover the liberty to speak as he
wills.
5. TESTIMONY
Beyond
these interesting forms of expressing shath—apparent madness, audacity,
and boasting-the most powerful shath is expressed ' in the form of
testimony to the continuing activity of God. There are several texts from
Hallaj and Bayazid that emphasize the theme of testimony and that show once
again the importance of selfhood and
Hallaj’s
understanding of faith was thoroughly in consonance with the Sufi position just
outlined. For Hallaj, iman was the first step on a ladder leading to
overwhelming love of God (walah) and astonishment; in addition, when
fear of God (taqwa) combined with perfect gnosis, the state of total
surrender (istinyat) to the Qur’an became possible, “and this is the
reward of the stations of faith.”38 Yet Hallaj also spoke of faith
as only a beginning, for “he who looks for God by the light of faith is like
him who seeks the sun by the light of the stars.’39 Although
ordinary faith is inferior to gnosis, faith in a more general sense includes
all relationships to divinity: “No one can claim God in any way except by
faith, for in reality, there is no claim (to having attained God).”40
Nonetheless, insofar as faith is identified with “speech, action and
intention,” it is occupied with intermediaries (wasa’it), with
something other than God.41 According to Hallaj’s doctrine of “the
eclipse of intermediaries (isqat al- w asa1 it),” at the
dawning of the experience of the realities (haqa’iq) of faith, these
outward expressions of faith are obliterated from consciousness, and remain
only in form (rasm).*2 Although this view is not precisely
antinomian, it is certainly a significant relativization of the law. The sharCah
is still obligatory, but it has receded in importance before the overwhelming
meeting with the Master of the shari'ah.
Hallaj’s
strange utterances on faith and infidelity need to be understood in terms of
the characteristics of shath, as discussed in part I; we shall note in
particular the relevance of the topics of knowledge and unknowing,
transcendence of duality, and audacity in the special form of
blame.
The characteristics of the highest form of shath, that is, sha th
as the divine word, shath as testimony, and the nature of selfhood, are
not very prominently involved in Hailaj’s statements on faith and infidelity.
The implication here is that the ecstatic sayings on faith and infidelity refer
to the experience of the nothingness of creation (Jana*), not that of
deification (baqa').
There
are two sayings of Hallaj that present faith and infidelity in close dependence
upon the topics of knowledge and unknowing and the transcendence of duality.
The first, preserved only in an ambiguous Persian recension, is as follows:
The knower ('arif) looks upon his initial mystical states and
realizes that he does not have faith except after he becomes infidel. ... In
the beginning the poor man takes a position with respect to something. Then his
position becomes advanced with respect to that thing. In the end he becomes
infidel. Don’t you see that if he goes back on that (agar baz-i an gardid),
he has been infidel?41
Although
the terminology of this saying is terribly vague, I interpret this to mean that
initial faith, the creature’s acceptance and recognition of the creator, is a
partial kind of knowledge, which, from the viewpoint of the real knower,
nonetheless appears to be ignorance and unconscious rejection of the truth.
When the real knower looks back on his first attainments, he realizes
intensely the dualistic limitations of that first intimation called faith. And
just as unknowing is prerequisite to real knowledge, so a realization of the
limitations of one’s initial faith is necessary in order to transcend its
intrinsic duality. “In the end he becomes infidel” because he now realizes his
nothingness, and can call himself “infidel” to signify that he knows that his
faith is no faith at all. Like the impotence, blindness, and astonishment of
unknowing, becoming infidel is a descent into the dark night of the soul.
Hallaj
further explains the relationship between infidelity, knowledge, and duality,
in a famous letter addressed to one of his disciples.
In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate, who manifests
Himself (tajalld) through everything to whomsoever He wishes. Peace be
unto you, my son. May God veil you from the exterior of the religious law, and
may He reveal to you the reality of infidelity (haqiqat al-kufr). For
the exterior of the religious law is a hidden idolatry, while the reality of
infidelity is a manifest gnosis (ma'rifah jal ¡yah). Thus, praise
belongs to the God who manifests Himself on the head of a pin to whom He
wishes, and who conceals Himself in the heavens and the earths from whom He
wishes, so that one testifies that He is not, and another testifies that there
is none other than He. But the witness in negation of Him is not rejected, and
the witness in affirmation of Him is not praised. And the purpose of this
letter
is that 1 charge you not to be deceived by God, and not to despair
of Him; not to covet His love, and not to be satisfied with not being His
lover; not to utter affirmation of Him, and not to incline towards negation of
Him. And beware of affirming the divine unity! Peace.44
In this
important passage Hallaj has indicated the purpose of his strange venture into
self-proclaimed heresy. His “reality of infidelity” is “a manifest gnosis,”
that is, a form of the essential gnosis that can only be bestowed by theophany
or divine manifestation (tajalli). It is the kind of gnosis that sees
the absolute nothingness of creaturehood and realizes that separate existence
constitutes infidelity. The outward, literal aspect of the law he calls “a
hidden idolatry (shirk khafi),” just because in itself it is
inextricably bound up with duality and opposition. As long as one is
preoccupied with the details of the law, one will be unable to focus exclusively
on God. Here Hallaj hovers on the threshold of divine grace without expectation
or despair, in a renunciation of the dualistic attributes of createdness.
The
convergence of unknowing and transcendence of duality is shown in the doctrine
of the coincidence of opposites in God. Hallaj enunciated this principle
clearly in saying, “in none but Him can two (opposite) attributes mingle at
once, but He is not thereby in contradiction.”4Î One such example
has already been qubted, “Knowledge is concealed within ignorance.” Now it is
applied to iman and kufr: “Infidelity and faith differ in name,
but in reality there is no difference between them.”46 This coincidentia
oppositorum is a transcendence of duality that only takes place on the
level of the divine Essence in itself, the haqiqah or transcendent
reality.
When
transcendence of duality is considered as the process of transcending, it
applies to the level of creation, and implies a radical rejection of any
hidden idolatry; this is a necessary implication of the concept of tawhid,
literally “making one.” Junayd’s definition of tawhid thus applies to
both the state and the process of transcendence: “Tawhid is the
isolation of the eternal from the temporal.” In addition to meaning the
isolation of the divine reality in itself, “transcending duality” means the
rejection of the idolatry and infidelity of considering any temporal and
partial creature as self-sufficient. When Shibli was asked to explain tawhid,
he said, “He who answers a question about tawhidis a heretic, he who
knows tawhid is a polytheist, he who does not know it is an infidel, he
who points to it is an idol worshipper, and he who asks about it is ignorant.”47
Every one of Shibii’s phrases denounces the attempt to confine the eternal in
temporal relations.
The
negative aspect of tawhid may be called takfir, i.e., “calling something
kufr” “accusing of infidelity.” Takfir as practised by Sufis is
quite different from the anathemas hurled at each other by rival theologians;
spiritual takfir is a process of purification that aims at the
elimination of duality and hidden idolatry in oneself. It was in this sense
that Shibli said, “Sufism is idolatry, since it is the safeguarding of the
heart from the vision of that which is other (than God), and there is no
other.”48 All such denunciations can be considered as spiritual takfir,
A fine example of this kind of takfir is the lofty credal statement of
Hallaj:
He who
thinks that the divine mixes with the human, or the human mixes with the
divine, is unfaithful (fa-qad kqfara). For God has isolated Himself in
His Essence and His Attributes from the essences and attributes of creatures.
He does not resemble them in any respect, nor do they resemble Him in anything.
How could there be any resemblance between the eternal (al-qadim) and
the temporal (al-muhdath)! He who claims that the Creator is in a place
or on a place or is connected to a place, or can be conceived of in the mind or
imagined in thought, or is included under attribute and quality, is idolatrous (fa-qad
ashraka).*9
The
reliance of this takfir on Junayd’s tawhid is striking. Perhaps
the most remarkable takfir made by Hallaj is the anecdote told by his
friend Ibn Fatik, who came to visit while Hallaj was reciting the Qur’an at
full length. When Hallaj had finished, he turned to Ibn Fatik, laughing, and
said, “Don’t you see that I pray to try to please Him? But he who thinks that
he has pleased Him has put a price on His pleasure.” Then he laughed again and
recited these verses:
When a youth’s ardent love reaches perfection, and ecstasy makes him
to forego union,
Then
he attests in truth what love attests to him —
the
prayer of lovers is just infidelity.50
Absorption
in ritual prayer is attachment to intermediaries that obscure the realities of
the spirit; Hallaj here blames himself for placing too much importance on the
effect of prayer, as the youth in the poem became too involved in the thought
of his own love—all deviation from the way to the Beloved is infidelity.
Another
important aspect of Hallaj’s use of “infidelity” and “faith” is his desire to
be blamed as an infidel and killed as a martyr. His longing for martyrdom is
presented in a series of texts so striking and so dramatic that I propose to
translate them in full, because of their intrinsic interest. Here is another
episode narrated by Ibn Fatik, in which Hallaj shows the earnestness of his
desire for self-sacrifice.
One
day I called on Hallaj at a house belonging to him at a moment when he was
distracted. I saw him standing on his head, saying, “You who make me near in my
mind by Your Presence, and who set me at a distance by Your absence as far as
is eternity from time-You manifest Yourself to me so that I think of You as the
All, and You withdraw Yourself from me so that J deny Your existence. But Your
Absence does not continue, Your Presence does not suffice, war with You does
not succeed, and peace with You is not secure.” And when he sensed that I was
there, he sat upright and said, “Come in, don’t be afraid!” So I came in and
sat before him, and his eyes were like two burning flames. Then he said, “My
son, some people testify against my infidelity (kufr) and some of them
testify to my saintliness (wilayah). And those who testify against my
infidelity are dearer to me and to God than those who affirm my
saintliness." Then I said, “Master, why is that?” he said, “Those who
testify to my saintliness do so from their good opinion of me, while those who
testify against my infidelity do so from zealous defense of their religion (ta'assuban
li-dinihim), and he who zealously defends his religion is dearer to God
than him who has a good opinion of anyone.” Then he said, “Ibrahim, what will
you do when you see me crucified and killed and burnt? For that will be the
happiest day of all the days of my life!"51
In this
passage, there is a delineation of the decisive effects of God’s absence and
presence on human hearts, just as in the letter on “the reality of
infidelity." In this case, Hallaj is making it clear to Ibn Fatik that he
wants to be labelled an infidel and die.
In
another extraordinary episode, which took place at the tomb of the great jurist
Ibn Hanbal, Hallaj again expressed this desire, but in a moment of intense
personal prayer, after which he cautioned an eavesdropper not to mention the
incident. Here is the account as transmitted by the prominent judge Ibn al-Haddad
al-Misri:
I went
out one moonlit night to the tomb of Ahmad ibn Hanbal (God have mercy on him!),
and I saw there from far off a man who was standing, facing in the direction
of prayer. I got closer to him without him knowing, and it was al-Husayn ibn Mansur,
who was weeping and saying, “You who made me drunk with Your love, and who
astounded me on the plains of Your nearness, You are the One isolated in
eternity, the One who alone is established on the throne of truth. Your support
is through justice, not through levelling; Your distance is from isolation, not
from separation; Your presence is through knowledge, not by transit; and Your
absence is from veiling, not from departure. There is nothing above You to overshadow
You, nothing below You to lessen You, nothing behind You to overtake You,
nothing beyond You to comprehend You. I beseech You, by this hallowed dust and
thesesought degrees, that You do not reject me except after ravishing me from
myself, and that You do not make me see my soul again after veiling it from me;
and multiply my enemies in Your land, and those intent on killing me.” But when
he sensed me, he turned and laughed in my face, and came back and said to me,
“Abu al-Hasan, this state in which I find myself is the first stage of aspirants.”
In amazement 1 said, “Master! If this is the first stage of aspirants, what is
the stage of him who is beyond it?” He replied, “I lied! This is the first
stage of the submitters to God, nay, I lied again! This is the first stage of
the infidels.” Then he cried out three times and fell, and blood streamed from
his throat. And he motioned with his hand that I should go, so I went and left
him. When I saw him the next morning at the Mansur mosque, he took my hand and
led me to a corner, and said, “By God! You must not tell anyone what you saw me
do yesterday!”52
Once
again the fervent prayer begs the omnipotent God to bring about the lover’s
doom. In this orison, Hallaj also calls upon God to annihilate his limited
selfhood and not allow it to exist again. The quest for ravishment of self,
which is one of the main characteristics of shath, is here linked with
the desire for martyrdom. Hallaj’s final words to the eavesdropper, Abu
al-Hasan, show by their spontaneity the profundity of the experience that led
Hallaj to call himself an infidel. Full of the feeling of dust and ashes, he
calls himself the lowest of the muslimun, then the lowest of the kafirun.
Hallaj’s
desire for martyrdom is further expressed in another episode, which contains
the famous poem on ravishment of selfhood discussed in the section on selfhood
in part I, above.
I saw
al-Hallaj enter into the Mansur mosque and say, “People, listen to one word
from me!” Many people gathered around him, some being his supporters and some
his detractors. He said, “Know that God most high has made my blood licit for
you; so kill me!” Some of the people wept. Then I stepped out from the crowd
and said, “Master! How shall we kill a man who prays and fasts and recites the
Qur’an?” He replied, “Master, the reason for which blood should be spared is
beyond prayer, fasting and reciting the Qur’an; so kill me! You will have your
reward, and I will be happy. You will be fighters for the faith, and I will be
a martyr.” Then the crowd wept, and they followed him to his house when he
left. I said, "Master, what does this mean?” He said, “There is no duty in
the world more important for Muslims than killing me.” Then I asked, “Of what
sort is the path to God?” He replied, “The path to God lies between ‘two,’ but
‘there is no one else with Me.’” Then I said, “Explain!” He answered, “He who
does not understand our allusions will not be guided by our expressions,” and
he recited,
“Is it
you or I? . . .
so take
away by Your grace,
my ‘I am’
from in between.”
Then I
said, “Will you comment on these verses?” He answered, “Their meaning is not
consigned to anyone except the Messenger of God, by actual experience, and me,
in emulation of him.”55
Here
Hallaj has begun to reveal publicly his desire for martyrdom and for ravishment
of his selfhood, but he is still enigmatically refusing to reveal his purpose
in so doing. Is it only because of his private unease that he formed this
purpose, in a pathological urge to self-destruction? What is the “reward” that
he hinted at, which will accrue to the Muslim community if he is killed as an
infidel? Will his death accomplish the ravishment for which he longs?
Louis
Massignon, in an astonishing and brilliant reconstruction, has presented a
compelling interpretation of Hallaj’s desire for martyrdom as a blood-sacrifice
designed to bring about a vicarious atonement on behalf of all Muslims.
Standing with the pilgrims on Mount 'Arafat, on his last pilgrimage in the
apocalyptic year 290/903, “Hallaj, like the saints who preceded him, must
express the victimal desire to become absolutely poor, transparent,
annihilated, that God expose him under the appearance of weakness ( a/z), of
death, of condemnation, of guilt, signifying thereby the approach of His Hour,
that of the Judgment.”54 In this view, Hallaj sought to make himself
totally empty, lost in the bewilderment of unknowing, and hence to be rejected
by all: “Guide of the bewildered, increase me in bewilderment; if I am infidel,
increase me in infidelity!”55 What was Hallaj trying to accomplish
here, at the high point of the hajj, on the ninth of Dhu al-Hijjah, when
Muslims address God in penitential prayer? In one verse, he explains,
You who blame my longing for Him, how long can you blame? If you
knew what I meant, you would not blame me. The people have their pilgrimage,
but I have a pilgrimage to my Love. They lead animals to slaughter, but I lead
my own heart’s blood. There are some who circle the Ka'bah without the use of
limbs; they circled God, and He made them free of the sanctuary.56
In his
spiritualization of the hajj, which ultimately cost him his life, Hallaj
evidently saw himself as a sacrificial victim, the replacement for the sheep
and the goats that were to be slaughtered the following day on 'Id al-Adha.
Whether Massignon can be followed completely in his view of Hallaj’s sacrifice
is open to debate; some have felt that Massignon read Christian doctrines of
atonement into the “passion” of Hallaj. Of course, Hallaj did say, “My death
will be in the religion of the cross,” and he told his surprised interlocutor,
“you should kill this accursed one,” pointing to himself.57 There is
no question of “Christianizing” in Hallaj, however; if he used the language of
“Christianity,” it was in order to shock his listeners?* Hallaj’s whole effort
to get himself condemned as a kafir is summed up in this verse: “I
became infidel to God’s religion, and infidelity is my duty, because it is
detestable to Muslims.”59 We may take a phrase from another branch
of Sufism to describe this particular motive in Hallaj: it is malamah,
“self-blame,” a practice designed to draw the censure of the community by
outwardly disgraceful behavior, while inwardly and secretly performing all
religious duties with the utmost sincerity and devotion. While Hallaj was not
part of the Malamati
Sufi
group that originated in Nishapur in the third/ninth century,this term aptly
characterizes his wish to be considered an infidel. His desire for martyrdom,
to suffer under the Jaw, takes malamah to its extreme. It is not
accidental that Hallaj has been called Sultan al-Malamatiyin, “King of
the Self-blamers.”60
Hallaj’s
self-blame in terms of infidelity was not merely antinomian, however. As one
who invoked the piety of people like Ahmad ibn Hanbal and Hasan al-Basri,
Hallaj sought to invest the shan ah with the utmost meaning, and he
consciously sought out and practised the most difficult devotions recommended
by each school. This is how he explained it to one of his attendants:
Abu Ishaq Ibrahim ibn 'Abd al-Karim al-Hulwani said: I attended upon
al- Hallaj for ten years, and I was one of the people closest to him. And from
all that I heard from people who slandered him, and who said that he was a
heretic, I began to have doubts in myself, and so I put him to the test. One
day I said to him, “Master, I want to learn something of the esoteric
teaching.” He replied, “The false esoteric or the true esoteric?” As I stopped
to reflect, he said, “Indeed, the exterior aspect of the esoteric Truth is the
law (abshari'ah), and he who fully realizes the exterior of the law will
have its interior aspect revealed to him, and this interior aspect is the
knowledge of God. But the false esoteric has an interior more hateful than its
exterior, and its exterior is more repugnant than its interior, so have nothing
to do with it. My son, I shall mention something to you from my experience of
the exterior of the law. I have not adopted the teaching of any of the
religious leaders; I have only taken from every sect the hardest and most
difficult part of it, and I now follow that. I have performed no obligatory
prayer without washing myself first and performing ablution. Now I am seventy
years old, and in fifty years I have performed the prayers of two thousand
years, and every prayer is the fulfillment (qada') of a previous one.”61
Hallaj’s
servant evidently had heard the gossip that accused Hallaj of being an agent
of the Qarmati insurgents, who were feared and hated as enemies of the
caliphate and opponents of the externalist legalism of the Sunni majority.
al-Hulwani’s question was an attempt to see if Hallaj was really an esoteric (bat
ini), a follower of the Isma'ili heretics. This suspicion was thoroughly
dispelled by Hallaj’s stern and uncompromising reply. Hallaj’s insistence on
the law is in fact a necessary preliminary to his demand for martyrdom, as
shown by his praise of his attackers who “zealously defend their religion.”
Nonetheless,
as we have seen, there is a strand in the thought of Hallaj that redirects
attention away from ritual to the sole object and goal of that ritual. He
states the principle of “the eclipse of intermediaries” here: “He who
considers actions is veiled from the Object of action, and he who considers the
Object of action is veiled from the vi- sion of the actions.”62 In a
letter to one of his disciples, Hallaj put it in greater detail thus:
Know that man remains standing on the carpet of the shari'ah
as long as he has not reached the outposts of tawhid. But when he
attains it, the shan ah is eclipsed from his vision, and he occupies
himself with the glimmerings that dawn from the mine of sincerity. And when the
glimmerings come upon him continuously, and the dawnings pursue him
uninterruptedly, affirmation of unity (tawhid) becomes a dualistic
heresy (zandaqah) for him, and the sacred law a folly. Then he remains
without identity or trace. If he observes the law, he observes it only in form,
and if he utters the affirmation of divine unity, he only utters it by force
and compulsion.61
Familiar
themes are alluded to here. Moving from the safe enclosures of the shari'ah
to the desert wilderness of true tawhid is an entry into unknowing and
astonishment. With the onset of the luminous experiences of reality, ïhe
shari'ah is cast in to the shade (not abolished). At this point, spiritual takfir
condemns the outward affirmation of the divine unity and the outward obedience
to the letter of the law as wholly inadequate, as “heresy” and “folly.” The one
who has reached this point may perform the outward requirements to the letter,
but without attachment. It is this rejection of the ultimate importance of the
external religious practices that has always alarmed the upholders of
tradition, who see in it an encouragement to neglect basic religious duties.
But again, Hallaj was not insensitive to this problem, and he insisted on full
application of legal discrimination on the social level; anyone who follows the
path taken by Hallaj must himself be prepared to accept the legal consequences.
“He who distinguishes between infidelity and faith has committed infidelity,
but he who does not distinguish between the infidel and the faithful has
committed infidelity.”64 In other words, spiritual takfir is
to be applied against anyone who tries to distingush between the opposites
that are unified in the divine haqiqah, but legal takfir must be
levelled against anyone who fails to distinguish between obedience and
rebellion on the level of the shari'ah. Fine talk about mysticism is no
excuse for neglecting to distinguish good from evil.
This,
at least, is the structure of the phenomenon of Hallajian infidelity:
self-annihilation through unknowing, realization of the coincidentia
oppositorum in God, self-blame and desire for martyrdom, and fulfillment of
the law (though it be ambivalent). As Kraus and Massignon put it, in the path
of the elect, “deification is not realized except under the appearance of a
denial of the law (kufr, zandaqah), an anathema incurred by love, a
momentary ravishment of the intellect.”65 The precise degree to
which this remarkable ideal was realized in action cannot be known. After the
prayer at 'Arafat, Hallaj spent some years in hiding from the police, under a
false name, and at the trial that sentenced him to death, he protested his
innocence vehemently. In the great prayer the night before the execution, he
seemed to give way to despair, as he murmured over and over, “a ruse, a ruse (makr,
makf)” but at last he arose, shouting, “Truth, truth (haqq, haqq)V'
After reaching the height of the reality of infidelity, he said that same
night, “. . . and I have hope in You, for I am faithful. . . .”66
1. CLASSICAL SUFISM UP TO RUZBIHAN
For Sufis, the phenomenon
of shath as a mode of speech with God must seek its origin, ultimately,
in the experience of the Prophet Muhammad. The Qur’an is the word of God, which
has been internalized to form the basis of the mystical vocabulary of Sufism.'
The model for shath is especially to be looked for in the Divine Saying (hadith
qudsi), the extra- Qur’anic revelations in which Muhammad reported what God
said to him. It was the view of Louis Massignon that many of the Divine Sayings
were not authentic reports going back to Muhammad, but were the results of the
experiences of the early mystics, who circulated these sayings publicly in the
guise of hadith, before the standardization of the hadith corpus.1
2 The recent researches of William A. Graham have shown that this is not
necessarily the case. Most of the Divine Sayings can be found in the canonical
collections of hadith? In these canonical hadith, there are some
that emphasize the possibility of close contact between man and God: “The
Prophet said, ‘God says: “1 fulfill My servant’s expectation of Me, and I am
with him when he remembers Me. . . . ””M Other sayings stress the
importance of love (mahabbah). "... I heard the Apostle of God say:
‘God said: “My love belongs by right to those who love one another in Me, to
those who sit together (in fellowship) in Me. . .”*”J The most
famous of these Divine Sayings is the saying on supererogatory worship (hadith
al-nawafit}, which expresses an experience in which the worshipper feels
the divine presence so strongly
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