A Literary History of the Arabs Part 38

"Gnosis is nearer to silence than to speech."

[Sidenote: Dhu 'l-Nun al-Misri ( 860 A.D.).]

We now come to Dhu 'l-Nun al-Misri ( 860 A.D.), whom the ?ufis themselves consider to be the primary author of their doctrine.[728]

That he at all events was among the first of those who helped to give it permanent shape is a fact which is amply attested by the collection of his sayings preserved in 'A??ar's _Memoirs of the Saints_ and in other works of the same kind.[729] It is clear that the theory of gnosis, with which he deals at great length, was the central point in his system; and he seems to have introduced the doctrine that true knowledge of G.o.d is attained only by means of ecstasy (_wajd_). "The man that knows G.o.d best," he said, "is the one most lost in Him." Like Dionysius, he refused to make any positive statements about the Deity.

"Whatever you imagine, G.o.d is the contrary of that." Divine love he regarded as an ineffable mystery which must not be revealed to the profane. All this is the very essence of the later ?ufiism. It is therefore desirable to ascertain the real character of Dhu 'l-Nun and the influences to which he was subjected. The following account gives a brief summary of what I have been able to discover; fuller details will be found in the article mentioned above.

His name was Abu 'l-Fay? Thawban b. Ibrahim, Dhu 'l-Nun (He of the Fish) being a sobriquet referring to one of his miracles, and his father was a native of Nubia, or of Ikhmim in Upper Egypt. Ibn Khallikan describes Dhu 'l-Nun as 'the nonpareil of his age' for learning, devotion, communion with the Divinity (_?al_), and acquaintance with literature (_adab_); adding that he was a philosopher (_?akim_) and spoke Arabic with elegance. The people of Egypt, among whom he lived, looked upon him as a _zindiq_ (freethinker), and he was brought to Baghdad to answer this charge, but after his death he was canonised. In the _Fihrist_ he appears among "the philosophers who discoursed on alchemy," and Ibnu 'l-Qif?i brackets him with the famous occultist Jabir b. ?ayyan. He used to wander (as we learn from Mas'udi)[730]

amidst the ruined Egyptian monuments, studying the inscriptions and endeavouring to decipher the mysterious figures which were thought to hold the key to the lost sciences of antiquity. He also dabbled in medicine, which, like Paracelsus, he combined with alchemy and magic.

Let us see what light these facts throw upon the origin of the ?ufi theosophy. Did it come to Egypt from India, Persia, or Greece?

[Sidenote: The origin of theosophical ?ufiism.]

Considering the time, place, and circ.u.mstances in which it arose, and having regard to the character of the man who bore a chief part in its development, we cannot hesitate, I think, to a.s.sert that it is largely a product of Greek speculation. Ma'ruf al-Karkhi, Abu Sulayman al-Darani, and Dhu 'l-Nun al-Mi?ri all three lived and died in the period (786-861 A.D.) which begins with the accession of Harun al-Ras.h.i.+d and is terminated by the death of Mutawakkil. During these seventy-five years the stream of h.e.l.lenic culture flowed unceasingly into the Moslem world.

Innumerable works of Greek philosophers, physicians, and scientists were translated and eagerly studied. Thus the Greeks became the teachers of the Arabs, and the wisdom of ancient Greece formed, as has been shown in a preceding chapter, the basis of Mu?ammadan science and philosophy. The results are visible in the Mu'tazilite rationalism as well as in the system of the _Ikhwanu 'l-?afa_. But it was not through literature alone that the Moslems were imbued with h.e.l.lenism. In 'Iraq, Syria, and Egypt they found themselves on its native soil, which yielded, we may be sure, a plentiful harvest of ideas--Neo-platonic, Gnostical, Christian, mystical, pantheistic, and what not? In Mesopotamia, the heart of the 'Abbasid Empire, dwelt a strange people, who were really Syrian heathens, but who towards the beginning of the ninth century a.s.sumed the name of ?abians in order to protect themselves from the persecution with which they were threatened by the Caliph Ma'mun. At this time, indeed, many of them accepted Islam or Christianity, but the majority clung to their old pagan beliefs, while the educated cla.s.s continued to profess a religious philosophy which, as it is described by Shahrastani and other Mu?ammadan writers, is simply the Neo-platonism of Proclus and Iamblichus. To return to Dhu 'l-Nun, it is incredible that a mystic and natural philosopher living in the first half of the ninth century in Egypt should have derived his doctrine directly from India. There may be Indian elements in Neo-platonism and Gnosticism, but this possibility does not affect my contention that the immediate source of the ?ufi theosophy is to be sought in Greek and Syrian speculation. To define its origin more narrowly is not, I think, practicable in the present state of our knowledge. Merx, however, would trace it to Dionysius, the Pseudo-Areopagite, or rather to his master, a certain "Hierotheus," whom Frothingham has identified with the Syrian mystic, Stephen bar Sudaili (_circa_ 500 A.D.). Dionysius was of course a Christian Neo-platonist.

His works certainly laid the foundations of mediaeval mysticism in Europe, and they were also popular in the East at the time when ?ufiism arose.

[Sidenote: ?ufiism composed of many different elements.]

When speaking of the various current theories as to the origin of ?ufiism, I said that in my opinion they all contained a measure of truth. No single cause will account for a phenomenon so widely spread and so diverse in its manifestations. ?ufiism has always been thoroughly eclectic, absorbing and trans.m.u.ting whatever 'broken lights' fell across its path, and consequently it gained adherents amongst men of the most opposite views--theists and pantheists, Mu'tazilites and Scholastics, philosophers and divines. We have seen what it owed to Greece, but the Perso-Indian elements are not to be ignored. Although the theory "that it must be regarded as the reaction of the Aryan mind against a Semitic religion imposed on it by force" is inadmissible--Dhu 'l-Nun, for example, was a Copt or Nubian--the fact remains that there was at the time a powerful anti-Semitic reaction, which expressed itself, more or less consciously, in ?ufis of Persian race. Again, the literary influence of India upon Mu?ammadan thought before 1000 A.D. was greatly inferior to that of Greece, as any one can see by turning over the pages of the _Fihrist_; but Indian religious ideas must have penetrated into Khurasan and Eastern Persia at a much earlier period.

These considerations show that the question as to the origin of ?ufiism cannot be answered in a definite and exclusive way. None of the rival theories is completely true, nor is any of them without a partial justification. The following words of Dr. Goldziher should be borne in mind by all who are interested in this subject:--

[Sidenote: Goldziher on the character of ?ufiism.]

"?ufiism cannot be looked upon as a regularly organised sect within Islam. Its dogmas cannot be compiled into a regular system. It manifests itself in different shapes in different countries. We find divergent tendencies, according to the spirit of the teaching of distinguished theosophists who were founders of different schools, the followers of which may be compared to Christian monastic orders.

The influence of different environments naturally affected the development of ?ufiism. Here we find mysticism, there asceticism the prevailing thought."[731]

The four princ.i.p.al foreign sources of ?ufiism are undoubtedly Christianity, Neo-platonism, Gnosticism, and Indian asceticism and religious philosophy. I shall not attempt in this place to estimate their comparative importance, but it should be clearly understood that the speculative and theosophical side of ?ufiism, which, as we have seen, was first elaborated in 'Iraq, Syria, and Egypt, bears unmistakable signs of h.e.l.lenistic influence.

[Sidenote: Bayazid of Bis?am.]

The early ?ufis are particularly interested in the theory of mystical union (_fana wa-baqa_) and often use expressions which it is easy to a.s.sociate with pantheism, yet none of them can fairly be called a pantheist in the true sense. The step from theosophy to pantheism was not, I think, made either by ?allaj ( 922 A.D.) or by the celebrated Abu Yazid, in Persian Bayazid ( 874-75 A.D.), of Bis?am, a town in the province of Qumis situated near the south-eastern corner of the Caspian Sea. While his father, Surushan, was a Zoroastrian, his master in ?ufiism seems to have been connected with Sind (Scinde), where Moslem governors had been installed since 715 A.D. Bayazid carried the experimental doctrine of _fana_ (dying to self) to its utmost limit, and his language is tinged with the peculiar poetic imagery which was afterwards developed by the great ?ufi of Khurasan, Abu Sa'id b. Abi 'l-Khayr ( 1049 A.D.). I can give only a few specimens of his sayings.

Their genuineness is not above suspicion, but they serve to show that if the theosophical basis of ?ufiism is distinctively Greek, its mystical extravagances are no less distinctively Oriental.

"Creatures are subject to 'states' (_a?wal_), but the gnostic has no 'state,' because his vestiges are effaced and his essence is annihilated by the essence of another, and his traces are lost in another's traces.

"I went from G.o.d to G.o.d until they cried from me in me, 'O Thou I!'

"Nothing is better for Man than to be without aught, having no asceticism, no theory, no practice. When he is without all, he is with all.

"Verily I am G.o.d, there is no G.o.d except me, so wors.h.i.+p me!

"Glory to me! how great is my majesty!

"I came forth from Bayazid-ness as a snake from its skin. Then I looked. I saw that lover, beloved, and love are one, for in the world of unification all can be one.

"I am the wine-drinker and the wine and the cup-bearer."

Thus, in the course of a century, ?ufiism, which at first was little more than asceticism, became in succession mystical and theosophical, and even ran the risk of being confused with pantheism. Henceforward the term _Ta?awwuf_ unites all these varying shades. As a rule, however, the great ?ufis of the third century A.H. (815-912 A.D.) keep their antinomian enthusiasm under control. Most of them agreed with Junayd of Baghdad ( 909 A.D.), the leading theosophist of his time, in preferring "the path of sobriety," and in seeking to reconcile the Law (_shari'at_) with the Truth (_?aqiqat_). "Our principles," said Sahl b. 'Abdullah al-Tustari ( 896 A.D.), "are six: to hold fast by the Book of G.o.d, to model ourselves upon the Apostle (Mu?ammad), to eat only what is lawful, to refrain from hurting people even though they hurt us, to avoid forbidden things, and to fulfil obligations without delay." To these articles the strictest Moslem might cheerfully subscribe.

?ufiism in its ascetic, moral, and devotional aspects was a spiritualised Islam, though it was a very different thing essentially.

While doing lip-service to the established religion, it modified the dogmas of Islam in such a way as to deprive them of their original significance. Thus Allah, the G.o.d of mercy and wrath, was in a certain sense depersonalised and wors.h.i.+pped as the One absolutely Real (_al-?aqq_). Here the ?ufis betray their kins.h.i.+p with the Mu'tazilites, but the two sects have little in common except the Greek philosophy.[732] It must never be forgotten that ?ufiism was the expression of a profound religious feeling--"hatred of the world and love of the Lord."[733] "_Ta?awwuf_," said Junayd, "is this: that G.o.d should make thee die to thyself and should make thee live in Him."

The further development of ?ufiism may be indicated in a few words.

[Sidenote: The development of ?ufiism.]

What was at first a form of religion adopted by individuals and communicated to a small circle of companions gradually became a monastic system, a school for saints, with rules of discipline and devotion which the novice (_murid_) learned from his spiritual director (_pir_ or _ustadh_), to whose guidance he submitted himself absolutely. Already in the third century after Mu?ammad it is increasingly evident that the typical ?ufi adept of the future will no longer be a solitary ascetic shunning the sight of men, but a great Shaykh and hierophant, who appears on ceremonial occasions attended by a numerous train of admiring disciples. Soon the doctrine began to be collected and embodied in books. Some of the most notable Arabic works of reference on ?ufiism have been mentioned already. Among the oldest are the _Kitabu 'l-Luma'_, by Abu Na?r al-Sarraj ( 988 A.D.) and the _Qutu 'l-Qulub_ by Abu ?alib al-Makki ( 996 A.D.). The twelfth century saw the rise of the Dervish Orders. 'Adi al-Hakkari ( 1163 A.D.) and 'Abdu 'l-Qadir al-Jili ( 1166 A.D.) founded the fraternities which are called 'Adawis and Qadiris, after their respective heads. These were followed in rapid succession by the Rifa'is, the Shadhilis, and the Mevlevis, of whom the last named owe their origin to the Persian poet and mystic, Jalalu 'l-Din Rumi ( 1273 A.D.). By this time, mainly through the influence of Ghazali, ?ufiism had won for itself a secure and recognised position in the Mu?ammadan Church. Orthodoxy was forced to accept the popular Saint-wors.h.i.+p and to admit the miracles of the _Awliya_, although many Moslem puritans raised their voices against the superst.i.tious veneration which was paid to the tombs of holy men, and against the prayers, sacrifices, and oblations offered by the pilgrims who a.s.sembled. Ghazali also gave the ?ufi doctrine a metaphysical basis. For this purpose he availed himself of the terminology, which Farabi (also a ?ufi) and Avicenna had already borrowed from the Neo-platonists. From his time forward we find in ?ufi writings constant allusions to the Plotinian theories of emanation and ecstasy.

[Sidenote: 'Umar Ibnu 'l-Fari?.]

Mysticism was more congenial to the Persians than to the Arabs, and its influence on Arabic literature is not to be compared with the extraordinary spell which it has cast over the Persian mind since the eleventh century of the Christian era to the present day. With few exceptions, the great poets of Persia (and, we may add, of Turkey) speak the allegorical language and use the fantastic imagery of which the quatrains of the Persian ?ufi, Abu Sa'id b. Abi 'l-Khayr,[734] afford almost the first literary example. The Arabs have only one mystical poet worthy to stand beside the Persian masters. This is Sharafu 'l-Din 'Umar Ibnu 'l-Fari?, who was born in Cairo (1181 A.D.) and died there in 1235. His _Diwan_ was edited by his grandson 'Ali, and the following particulars regarding the poet's life are extracted from the biographical notice prefixed to this edition[735]:--

"The Shaykh 'Umar Ibnu 'l-Fari? was of middle stature; his face was fair and comely, with a mingling of visible redness; and when he was under the influence of music (_sama'_) and rapture (_wajd_), and overcome by ecstasy, it grew in beauty and brilliancy, and sweat dropped from his body until it ran on the ground under his feet. I never saw (so his son relates) among Arabs or foreigners a figure equal in beauty to his, and I am the likest of all men to him in form.... And when he walked in the city, the people used to press round him asking his blessing and trying to kiss his hand, but he would not allow anyone to do so, but put his hand in theirs....

'Umar Ibnu 'l-Fari? said: 'In the beginning of my detachment (_tajrid_) from the world I used to beg permission of my father and go up to the Wadi 'l-Musta?'afin on the second mountain of al-Muqa??am. Thither I would resort and continue in this hermit life (_siya?a_) night and day; then I would return to my father, as bound in duty to cherish his affection. My father was at that time Lieutenant of the High Court (_khalifatu 'l-?ukmi 'l-'aziz_) in Qahira and Mi?r,[736] the two guarded cities, and was one of the men most eminent for learning and affairs. He was wont to be glad when I returned, and he frequently let me sit with him in the chambers of the court and in the colleges of law. Then I would long for "detachment," and beg leave to return to the life of a wandering devotee, and thus I was doing repeatedly, until my father was asked to fill the office of Chief Justice (_Qa?i 'l-Qu?at_), but refused, and laid down the post which he held, and retired from society, and gave himself entirely to G.o.d in the preaching-hall (_qa'atu 'l-khi?aba_) of the Mosque al-Azhar.

After his death I resumed my former detachment, and solitary devotion, and travel in the way of Truth, but no revelation was vouchsafed to me. One day I came to Cairo and entered the Sayfiyya College. At the gate I found an old grocer performing an ablution which was not prescribed. First he washed his hands, then his feet; then he wiped his head and washed his face. "O Shaykh," I said to him, "do you, after all these years, stand beside the gate of the college among the Moslem divines and perform an irregular ablution?"

He looked at me and said, "O 'Umar, nothing will be vouchsafed to thee in Egypt, but only in the ?ijaz, at Mecca (may G.o.d exalt it!); set out thither, for the time of thy illumination hath come."

Then I knew that the man was one of G.o.d's saints and that he was disguising himself by his manner of livelihood and by pretending to be ignorant of the irregularity of the ablution. I seated myself before him and said to him, "O my master, how far am I from Mecca!

and I cannot find convoy or companions save in the months of Pilgrimage." He looked at me and pointed with his hand and said, "Here is Mecca in front of thee"; and as I looked with him, I saw Mecca (may G.o.d exalt it!); and bidding him farewell, I set off to seek it, and it was always in front of me until I entered it. At that moment illumination came to me and continued without any interruption.... I abode in a valley which was distant from Mecca ten days' journey for a hard rider, and every day and night I would come forth to pray the five prayers in the exalted Sanctuary, and with me was a wild beast of huge size which accompanied me in my going and returning, and knelt to me as a camel kneels, and said, "Mount, O my master," but I never did so.'"

When fifteen years had elapsed, 'Umar Ibnu 'l-Fari? returned to Cairo. The people venerated him as a saint, and the reigning monarch, Malik al-Kamil, wished to visit him in person, but 'Umar declined to see him, and rejected his bounty. "At most times," says the poet's son, "the Shaykh was in a state of bewilderment, and his eyes stared fixedly. He neither heard nor saw any one speaking to him. Now he would stand, now sit, now repose on his side, now lie on his back wrapped up like a dead man; and thus would he pa.s.s ten consecutive days, more or less, neither eating nor drinking nor speaking nor stirring." In 1231 A.D. he made the pilgrimage to Mecca, on which occasion he met his famous contemporary, s.h.i.+habu' l-Din Abu ?af? 'Umar al-Suhrawardi. He died four years later, and was buried in the Qarafa cemetery at the foot of Mount Muqa??am.

[Sidenote: The poetry of Ibnu 'l-Fari?.]

His _Diwan_ of mystical odes, which were first collected and published by his grandson, is small in extent compared with similar works in the Persian language, but of no unusual brevity when regarded as the production of an Arabian poet.[737] Concerning its general character something has been said above (p. 325). The commentator, ?asan al-Burini ( 1615 A.D.), praises the easy flow (_insijam_) of the versification, and declares that Ibnu 'l-Fari? "is accustomed to play with ideas in ever-changing forms, and to clothe them with splendid garments."[738] His style, full of verbal subtleties, betrays the influence of Mutanabbi.[739] The longest piece in the _Diwan_ is a Hymn of Divine Love, ent.i.tled _Na?mu 'l-Suluk_ ('Poem on the Mystic's Progress'), and often called _al-Ta'iyyatu 'l-Kubra_ ('The Greater Ode rhyming in _t_'), which has been edited with a German verse-translation by Hammer-Purgstall (Vienna, 1854). On account of this poem the author was accused of favouring the doctrine of _?ulul_, _i.e._, the incarnation of G.o.d in human beings. Another celebrated ode is the _Khamriyya_, or Hymn of Wine.[740]

The following versions will perhaps convey to English readers some faint impression of the fervid rapture and almost ethereal exaltation which give the poetry of Ibnu 'l-Fari? a unique place in Arabic literature:--

"Let pa.s.sion's swelling tide my senses drown!

Pity love's fuel, this long-smouldering heart, Nor answer with a frown, When I would fain behold Thee as Thou art, '_Thou shall not see Me._'[741] O my soul, keep fast The pledge thou gav'st: endure unfaltering to the last!

For Love is life, and death in love the Heaven Where all sins are forgiven.

To those before and after and of this day, That witnesseth my tribulation, say, 'By me be taught, me follow, me obey, And tell my pa.s.sion's story thro' wide East and West.'

With my Beloved I alone have been When secrets tenderer than evening airs Pa.s.sed, and the Vision blest Was granted to my prayers, That crowned me, else obscure, with endless fame, The while amazed between His beauty and His majesty I stood in silent ecstasy, Revealing that which o'er my spirit went and came.

Lo! in His face commingled Is every charm and grace; The whole of Beauty singled Into a perfect face Beholding Him would cry, 'There is no G.o.d but He, and He is the most High!'"[742]

Here are the opening verses of the _Ta'iyyatu 'l-?ughra_, or 'The Lesser Ode rhyming in _t_,' which is so called in order to distinguish it from the _Ta'iyyatu 'l-Kubra_:--

"Yea, in me the Zephyr kindled longing, O my loves, for you; Sweetly breathed the balmy Zephyr, scattering odours when it blew; Whispering to my heart at morning secret tales of those who dwell (How my fainting heart it gladdened!) nigh the water and the well; Murmuring in the gra.s.sy meadows, garmented with gentleness, Languid love-sick airs diffusing, healing me of my distress.

When the green slopes wave before thee, Zephyr, in my loved ?ijaz, Thou, not wine that mads the others, art my rapture's only cause.

Thou the covenant eternal[743] callest back into my mind, For but newly thou hast parted from my dear ones, happy Wind!