The Persian Mystics: Jalálu'd-dín Rúmí · 4 of 14

II. The Early Súfís

Abú Hashím (ob. 150 A.H. ) was the first to bear the name of Súfí, while Dhu'l-Nún-al-Misri (245 A.H. ) may be said to have given Súfíism its permanent shape. Rābi'a, of Basra, was the first woman to join the sect, and her saintliness and wise sayings have been preserved by Farídu'd-Dín 'Attár. One day a great sickness fell upon Rabi'a, and on being asked the reason for it she replied: "I dwelt upon the joys of Paradise and therefore my Beloved has chastened me."

Rābi'a did not believe in earthly marriage. Her remark on the subject is given as follows: "The bonds of wedlock have descended upon me. I am not my own, but my Lord's, and must not be unfaithful to Him." 'Attár also informs us that when Rābi'a was asked if she hated the devil, she replied: "My love to God leaves me no time to hate him." Rābi'a was a woman of much independence of thought, ethical rather than metaphysical in her remarks, and strongly opposed to outward ceremonials. She is said to have died at Jerusalem, 753 A.D. It was at Ramla, in Palestine, that a Christian nobleman built a convent ( Khāngāh ) for the Súfís. Thus in the early days the sect defied their Prophet's condemnation of monkery by building an abode for members of the order. The Súfís were strongly opposed to the idea of free-will or distinct and self-existent personality apart from the Beloved. The orthodox Muslim's idea was precisely the reverse. The Súfís have always made the Koran their text-book. With infinite licence they ingeniously quote therefrom, and still more ingeniously add their own explanations when necessary. No doubt there were political reasons for adopting this method of concealing heterodox ideas under the cloak of orthodoxy. We shall see, however, as the sect grew and still further broadened its views, that these clever compromises did not prevent the appearance of martyrs among their number in the future.

By the end of the second century of the Hijira the Súfís were a much-respected religious order. In the following century Quietism had not only changed to Pantheism, but Pantheism had kindled a belief that Beloved and lover were identical. The step was inevitable and at this juncture it was that Súfíism became essentially mystical, and it became more mystical as years advanced. About this time, viz., the beginning of the third century A.H., we come across two interesting Súfís who seem to have been the prime movers in this new development, by name Bayázíd and Mansur al-Halláj.

Concerning the saint Bayázíd an interesting story is told in the Fourth Book of the Masnavi. The saint surprised his disciples one day by saying: "Lo, I myself am God Almighty. There is no God beside me; worship me!" The disciples, thinking their Master was beside himself, told him, when the strange ecstasy had passed, what he had said. Bayázíd promptly replied: "If I do so again straightway slay me!" His disciples accordingly sharpened their knives. Once more Bayázíd cried out: "Within my vesture is naught but God, whether you seek Him on earth or heaven." The disciples, horror-struck at his remarks, straightway plunged their knives into Bayázíd's body. But their blades were turned back against their own throats, so that they died. He explained to the few disciples, who had not struck him, that the ecstasy he had been experiencing annihilated self, "His form is vanished, he is a mere mirror." The disciples who had struck him saw their own faces in that mirror and so wounded themselves, and not Bayázíd, whose soul had left the mirror of his body and was one with the Beloved.

Perhaps the life of Mansur al-Halláj is even more interesting. Whether he was a mere adventurer or genuine exponent of Súfíism is still open to controversy among modern Súfís. It will be perfectly safe to describe him as either a saint or a vagabond. He was possibly both extremes to suit the necessities of a very exciting and eventful career. He was born in the close of the ninth century A.D., and was said to perform many miracles, such as raising the dead to life, and drawing gold and flowers from the air. According to his own belief he could write verses equal to those of the Koran. He went one better than the "superman" theory, however, and called himself God, and his disciples after the various prophets. Akbar was called God, but deification in this case did not sound from his own trumpet; it sounded from the trumpet of an enthusiastic poet: "See Akbar and you see God." Al-Halláj visited India for the purpose of studying magic, and there saw the celebrated Rope Trick, on that occasion performed by a woman, a point of considerable interest. [2] This mystic-adventurer wrote forty-six books, and certainly gained considerable influence over the lower classes by his many signs and wonders. He is said to have disputed the necessity of making a pilgrimage to Mecca by stating that by occult practices it could be performed equally well in any room. On a certain occasion, however, we cannot help but admire Al-Halláj's wit and aptitude. One day he stretched forth an empty hand and produced from the air an apple, which he asserted he had plucked from Paradise. One of his witnesses disputed his assertion, because this particular apple was maggot-eaten, and therefore not of Divine origin. Al-Halláj at once replied: "It is because it hath come forth from the Mansion of Eternity to the Abode of Decay: therefore to its heart hath corruption found its way!"

Al-Halláj, on account of his various heretical teachings, was imprisoned and subjected to all manner of cruelties. Bravely he went forth to the place of crucifixion. For four days he was nailed on a cross on both sides of the Tigris. From these tortures he was finally released. Ten years later he was executed, telling his disciples he would return to them in thirty days, and exultantly reciting poetry, he cried: "From His own cup He bade me sup, for such is hospitality!" A comment of his on Súfíism—a very ironical one—was: "That which is mine, for by God I never distinguished for a moment between pleasure and pain!" Yet another characteristic saying of his was: "The way to God is two steps: one step out of this world and one step out of the next world, and lo! you are there with the Lord!" Whatever were the faults of Al-Halláj, and they were many, at least it may be said of him that he was a brave man. With all his fanaticism, his absurd indiscretion and love of conjuring, he left much behind of permanent value to the Súfís. The Government, in those days, did all in its power to restrain the publicity of his books; but a light that was never for a moment set under a bushel cannot be hid; the very attempt to obliterate it is in itself the cause for a keener and more persistent search.

In the fifth century of the Hijira we may note Abu-l-Khair as the first to give Súfíism politic significance, and Imān Ghazālī as the first to give it a metaphysical basis. At this time we find in Súfí books many terms borrowed from the Neo-Platonists. Books on ethics, as well as poetry, now became impregnated with Súfí ideas.