EDITORIAL NOTE

THE OBJECT OF THE EDITORS of this series is a very definite one. They desire above all things that, in their humble way, these books shall be the ambassadors of good-will and understanding between East and West—the old world of Thought and the new of Action. In this endeavour, and in their own sphere, they are but followers of the highest example in the land. They are confident that a deeper knowledge of the great ideals and lofty philosophy of Oriental thought may help to a revival of that true spirit of Charity which neither despises nor fears the nation of another creed and colour.

L. CRANMER-BYNG.

S. A. KAPADIA.

NORTHBROOK SOCIETY,

21, CROMWELL ROAD,

KENSINGTON, S.W.

INTRODUCTION

I. THE ORIGIN OF SÚFÍISM

Among the Mohammedans Súfíism, or Persian mysticism, is known as tasawwuf. The word Sidi is derived from súf, meaning “wool.” When a little Persian sect at the end of the eighth century A.D. broke away from the orthodox Muslim religion, and struck out on an independent path, they ignored costly robes and worldly ostentation, and clad themselves in a white wool garment. Hence they were known as “wool wearers,” or Súfís.

Prof. Edward G. Browne[1] gives four theories in regard to the origin of Súfíism, viz.: (1) Esoteric Doctrine of the Prophet.(2) Reaction of the Aryan mind against a Semitic religion. (3) Neo-Platonist influence.(4) Independent origin. Neither of the four theories altogether satisfies the learned professor, and very certain it is that the last-mentioned theory is of very little account. Prof. Browne seems in favour of a “spontaneous growth” existing in various forms, under various names throughout the civilised world; but after all this is not very tangible evidence. Moreover, we must bear in mind that the Neo-Platonist philosophers paid a visit to the Persian court in the sixth century A.D., and founded a school there in the reign of Núshír-wan. It is highly probable, therefore, that these seven philosophers, forced to leave their homes through the tyranny of Justinian, who forbade the teaching of philosophy at Athens, should have had considerable influence upon a few of the more thoughtful Persians. We shall now find that this theory is borne out by internal evidence.

Let us briefly study the tenets of Neo-Platonism. The Neo-Platonists believed in the Supreme Good as the Source of all things. Self-existent, it generated from itself. Creation was the reflection of its own Being. Nature, therefore, was permeated with God. Matter was essentially non-existent, a temporary and ever-moving shadow for the embodiment of the Divine. The Neo-Platonists believed that by ecstasy and contemplation of the All-Good, man would rise to that Source from whence he came. These points bear directly upon the Súfí teaching. They form a broad outline of the tenets of Súfíism. The Súfís, from temperamental and other causes, elaborated these ideas, gave them a rich and beautiful setting, and, what is all-important, built about them one of the most interesting phases of mystical poetry the world has ever known, and this particular phase may be said to date from the twelfth century A.D.

Thus, I think, it will be readily admitted that the Súfís certainly owed something to the Neo-Platonists. The cry for the Beloved was in their hearts before the Greek philosophers came; but Neo-Platonism appealed to their Oriental minds. It was a stepping-stone across the river of their particular spiritual tendencies, and they trod thereon, and proceeded to lay down other stones across the stream. I have pointed out the similarities between this particular Greek and Persian belief. There was, however, one very important difference. The Neo-Platonist’s conception of God was purely abstract, the Súfí’s essentially personal, as far as the early Súfís were concerned. We shall consider other influences which were brought to bear upon Súfíism a little later on. There is a very great difference between the early Súfíism and the elaborate additions that followed as an evolutionary matter of course.

In brief, then, Neo-Platonism was the doctrine of Ecstasy. A quotation from the letter of Plotinus to Flaccus on Ecstasy will still further show the similarities between this Greek and Persian teaching:

“The wise man recognises the idea of the Good within him. This he develops by withdrawal into the Holy Place of his own soul. He who does not understand how the soul contains the Beautiful within itself, seeks to realise beauty without, by laborious production. His aim should rather be to concentrate and simplify, and so to expand his being; instead of going out into the Manifold, to forsake it for the One, and so to float upwards towards the Divine Fount of Being whose stream flows within him.”

This is Súfíism in prose. The Súfí turned the same conception into poetry.

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....