Part 12
“The states of ecstasy into which the Sufis fall vary according to the emotions which predominate in them—love, fear, desire, repentance, etc. These states, as we have mentioned above, are often the result not only of hearing verses of the Koran, but erotic poetry. Some have objected to the reciting of poetry, as well as of the Koran, on these occasions; but it should be remembered that all the verses of the Koran are not adapted to stir the emotions—such, for instance, as that which commands that a man should leave his mother the sixth part of his property and his sister the half, or that which orders that a widow must wait four months after the death of her husband before becoming espoused to another man. The natures which can be thrown into religious ecstasy by the recital of such verses are peculiarly sensitive and very rare.” They certainly are!
The inconsistencies and contradictions in Al-Ghazali’s theory of conduct surprise us when we peruse his works. Sometimes he leads us to high mountain ranges whose summits are gilded with the light of heaven, the great truths of Theism, the ideals of eternity; and again he plunges us into the sloughs of sensuous and worldly discussion—themes unworthy of his pen.
Let us get back to the mountain tops where the air is healthier. Al-Ghazali, whatever may have been his failure in other respects, had high ideals for the attainment of morals from the Moslem standpoint. In his “The Alchemy of Happiness” he says, “When in the crucible of abstinence the soul is purged from carnal passions it attains to the highest, and in place of being a slave to lust and anger becomes endued with angelic qualities. Attaining that state, man finds his heaven in the contemplation of Eternal Beauty, and no longer in fleshly delights. The spiritual alchemy which operates this change in him, like that which transmutes base metals into gold, is not easily discovered, nor to be found in the house of every old woman.”
And in the attainment of this ideal he is sure that there must be a fight for character. The goal is not to be reached by easy stages. The warfare against passion is real and costs sacrifice. He gives us a picture of this Holy War almost in the language of John Bunyan. “For the carrying on of this spiritual warfare by which the knowledge of oneself and of God is to be obtained, the body may be figured as a kingdom, the soul as its king and the different senses and faculties as constituting an army. Reason may be called the vizier, or prime minister, passion the revenue-collector, and anger the police-officer. Under the guise of collecting revenue, passion is continually prone to plunder on its own account, while resentment is always inclined to harshness and extreme severity. Both of these, the revenue-collector and the police-officer, have to be kept in due subordination to the king, but not killed or expelled, as they have their own proper functions to fulfil. But if passion and resentment master reason, the ruin of the soul infallibly ensues. A soul which allows its lower faculties to dominate the higher is as one who should hand over an angel to the power of a dog or a Mussalman to the tyranny of an unbeliever.”
The struggle is, therefore, between the flesh and the spirit. Like St. Paul, Al-Ghazali must have experienced that which he describes: “The good that I would I do not, and the evil that I would not, that I do.” He is conscious of the inner struggle between the higher and the lower natures in man. Again and again he contrasts the body and the soul as to their eternal value in their struggle for supremacy. Both are of God, His gift to us; both show His wisdom and His power; but there is no comparison when we try to estimate their real values.
“The body, so to speak, is simply the riding animal of the soul, and perishes while the soul endures. The soul should take care of the body, just as a pilgrim on his way to Mecca takes care of his camel; but if the pilgrim spends his whole time in feeding and adorning his camel, the caravan will leave him behind, and he will perish in the desert.”[70]
The four leading virtues—the mothers of all other good qualities—Al-Ghazali says are “Wisdom, temperance, bravery, and moderation (or the golden mean of conduct).”[71] This classification he has borrowed from Plato with so much else on the theory of conduct. He explains all these virtues in terms of the Koran and illustrates them from the lives of Mohammed and the early saints of Islam as well as the later mystics.
He is at his best when he speaks of vices and their opposite virtues. No one can read his chapter against pride and boasting without seeing that he gives us again a page from his own experience. He begins by quoting the saying of the Prophet, “No one shall enter paradise in whose heart there is the weight of a grain of mustard seed of pride.” And another saying, “Said God Most High, ‘Pride is my mantle and majesty is my cloak, and whosoever takes away one of them from me I will cast him into hell, and I care not.’” Another saying attributed to Mohammed is evidently taken from the Gospel, “Whoso humbleth himself before God, God will exalt him, and whosoever is proud God will bring him low.” His definition of humility is beautiful: “True humility is to be subject to the truth and to be corrected by it even though thou shouldst hear it from a mere boy on the street.” In this connection he quotes also a saying of Jesus: “Said the Messiah (upon Him be peace), ‘Blessed is he to whom God has taught His book. He shall never die in his pride.’”
Pride is shown in different ways. Al-Ghazali enumerates pride of knowledge, of worship, of race and blood, of beauty and dress, of wealth, of bodily strength, of leadership. He quotes Mohammed as an example of humility, and also Abi Saeed el Khudri, who said, “Oh, my son, eat unto God and drink unto God and dress unto God. But whatsoever thou doest of all of these and there enters into them pride or hypocrisy it is disobedience. Whatever you do in your house do it yourself as did the Apostle of God, for he used to milk the goats and patch his sandals and sew his cloak and eat with the servants and buy in the bazaar, nor did his pride forbid him carrying his own packages home; and he was friendly to the rich and to the poor and he gave greetings himself first to every one whom he met, etc.”
It is noteworthy that when he rises to the highest ethical teaching he bases his remarks on the sayings (mostly apocryphal) of Christ, which we collate in our final chapter. Al-Ghazali tried hard but failed to find in Mohammed the ideals of his own heart. This is the tragedy of Islam.
VIII
Al-Ghazali as a Mystic
“Mysticism is religion, and supplies a refuge for men of religious minds who find it no longer possible for them to rest on ‘external authority’—as George Tyrrell both expounded and illustrated for us. Once turn away from revelation and little choice remains to you but the choice between Mysticism and Rationalism. There is not so much choice between these things, it is true, as enthusiasts on either side are apt to imagine. The difference between them is very much a matter of temperament, or perhaps we may even say of temperature. The Mystic blows hot, the Rationalist cold. Warm up a Rationalist and you inevitably get a Mystic; chill down a Mystic and you find yourself with a Rationalist on your hands. The history of thought illustrates repeatedly the easy passage from one to the other. Each centers himself in himself, and the human self is not so big that it makes any large difference where within yourself you take your center. Nevertheless just because Mysticism blows hot, its ‘eccentricity’ is the more attractive to men of lively religious feeling.”
—_Benjamin B. Warfield, in the “Princeton Theological Review.”_
VIII
AL-GHAZALI AS A MYSTIC
One of the earliest mystics in Islam was Rabiaʾ, who was buried in Jerusalem. She was a native of Busrah and died at Jerusalem as early as the second century of Islam. Her tomb, according to Ibn Khallikan, was an object of pilgrimage in the Middle Ages, and was probably visited by Al-Ghazali. The following verses are quoted from her in the _Ihya_ (vol. iv. p. 298):
“Two ways I love Thee: selfishly, And next, as worthy is of Thee. ’Tis selfish love that I do naught Save think on Thee with every thought: ’Tis purest love when Thou dost raise The veil to my adoring gaze. Not mine the praise in that or this, Thine is the praise in both, I wis.”
The Moslem mystics, or _Sufis_, however, received their name through Abu Khair, who lived at the end of the second century of the Hegira. His disciples wore a woolen garment, and from the word _suf_, which means wool, they obtained their name. In the next century, al-Junaid (A. H. 297), one of Al-Ghazali’s favourite authorities, was the great leader of the movement, which spread throughout Islam. It was a reaction from the barren monotheism and the rigid ritualism of Islam. This kind of orthodoxy did not meet the needs of the more imaginative mind of the Eastern races who accepted Islam. The preachers of the new doctrine travelled everywhere and mixed with men of all conditions. In this way they adopted ideas from many sources, although always professing to base their teaching on the Koran and Tradition.
According to Nicholson, the Mystics of Islam borrowed not only from Christianity and Neoplatonism, but from Gnosticism and Buddhism. Many Gospel texts and sayings of Jesus, most of them apocryphal, are cited in the oldest Sufi writings. From Christianity they took the use of the woollen dress, the vows of silence, the litanies (_Zikr_), and other ascetic practices. Their teaching also has many interesting parallels which Nicholson summarizes as follows: “The same expressions are applied to the founder of Islam which are used by St. John, St. Paul, and later mystical theologians concerning Christ. Thus, Mohammed is called the Light of God, he is said to have existed before the creation of the world, he is adored as the source of all life, actual and possible, he is the Perfect Man in whom all the divine attributes are manifested, and a Sufi tradition ascribes to him the saying, ‘He that hath seen me hath seen Allah.’ In the Moslem scheme, however, the Logos doctrine occupies a subordinate place, as it obviously must when the whole duty of man is believed to consist in realizing the unity of God.”[72]
Neoplatonism gave them the doctrine of emanation and ecstasy. The following version of the doctrine of the seventy thousand veils, as expounded to Canon Gairdner by a modern dervish, shows clear traces of Gnosticism. “Seventy Thousand Veils separate Allah, the One reality, from the world of matter and of sense. And every soul passes before his birth through these seventy thousand. The inner half of these are veils of light: the outer half, veils of darkness. For every one of the veils of light passed through, in this journey towards birth, the soul puts off a divine quality; and for every one of the dark veils, it puts on an earthly quality. Thus the child is born weeping, for the soul knows its separation from Allah, the one Reality. And when the child cries in its sleep, it is because the soul remembers something of what it has lost. Otherwise, the passage through the veils has brought with it forgetfulness (_nisyan_): and for this reason man is called _insan_. He is now, as it were, in prison in his body, separated by these thick curtains from Allah. But the whole purpose of Sufism, the Way of the dervish, is to give him an escape from this prison, an apocalypse of the Seventy Thousand Veils, a recovery of the original unity with The One, while still in this body.”[73]
In regard to Buddhist influence, Professor Goldziher has called attention to the fact that in the eleventh century the teaching of Buddha exerted considerable influence in eastern Persia, especially at Balkh, a city famous for the number of Sufis who dwelt in it. From the Buddhists came the use of the rosary (afterwards adopted by Christians in Europe), and perhaps also the doctrine of _fana_ or absorption into God.
“While _fana_,” says Nicholson, “in its pantheistic form is radically different from Nirvana, the terms coincide so closely in other ways that we cannot regard them as being altogether unconnected. _Fana_ has an ethical aspect: it involves the extinction of all passions and desires. The passing away of evil qualities and of the evil actions which they produce is said to be brought about by the continuance of the corresponding good qualities and actions.”[74] The cultivation of character by the contemplation of God in a mystical sense was the real goal. To know God was to be like Him and to be like Him ended in absorption or ecstasy.[75] One of their favourite sayings was that attributed to God by the Prophet, “I was a hidden treasure and I desired to be known, so I created the creation in order that I might be known.” Just as the universe is the mirror of God’s being, so the heart of man is to the Sufi the mirror of the universe. If he would know God or Truth he must look into his own heart.
To quote Al-Ghazali himself: “The aim which the Sufis set before them is as follows: To free the soul from the tyrannical yoke of the passions, to deliver it from its wrong inclinations and evil instincts, in order that in the purified heart there should only remain room for God and for the invocation of His holy name.
“As it was more easy to learn their doctrine than to practise it, I studied first of all those of their books which contain it: _The Nourishment of Hearts_, by Abu Talib of Mecca, the works of Hareth el Muhasibi, and the fragments which still remain, of Junaid, Shibli, Abu Yezid, Bustami and other leaders (whose souls may God sanctify). I acquired a thorough knowledge of their researches, and I learned all that was possible to learn of their methods by study and oral teaching. It became clear that the last stage could not be reached by mere instruction, but only by transport, ecstasy, and the transformation of the moral being” (p. 41, “Confessions”).
“Among the teachings of the Sufis was that of the preëxistence of Mohammed the Prophet in the Essence of Light. According to the Traditions, ‘I was a prophet while Adam was yet between earth and clay,’ and ‘There is no prophet after me,’ Sufis hold that Mohammed was a prophet even before the creation and that he still holds office. This identification of Mohammed with the Primal Element explains the names sometimes given him, such as Universal Reason, the Great Spirit, the Truth of Humanity, the Possessor of the Ray of Light—the Nur-i-Muhammadi—from God’s own splendour.”[76]
Absorption in God, therefore, or union with Him is the goal of all the Sufi teachings and practices. The entire negation of self clears the way for the apprehension of the Truth. This journey towards God has its stages which are generally given as eight in number: service, love, abstraction, knowledge, ecstasy, truth, union, extinction. Some of the Sufis went so far as to set aside external religion, and showed an utter indifference to the ritual as well as to the moral law. Al-Ghazali was not of their number. He teaches, however, that the ordinary theologian cannot enter on the mystic path, for he is still in bondage to dogma and wanders about in darkness. Prayer, fasting, pilgrimage in all their requirements and the details of their observations have, therefore, a twofold significance; the outward and formal one which is understood by the common people, and the spiritual, real, esoteric significance which is only grasped by those who give themselves entirely to God.
Al-Ghazali was thoroughly aware of the dangers of Sufism both in its creed by way of becoming pantheistic, and in its antinomian practices. He saw that divorce between religion and morals would be disastrous and must therefore have been shocked by such verses as those of Omar Khayyam:
“Khayyam! why weep you that your life is bad; What boots it thus to mourn? Rather be glad. He that sins not can make no claim to mercy; Mercy was made for sinners—be not sad.”
His teaching regarding sin and repentance was, as we shall see later, altogether more fundamental.
From the earliest times pantheistic Sufism found a home in Khorasan among the Moslems. The old idea of incarnation emerged when the Shiah sect separated itself and paid such high veneration to Ali. The sect of the Khattahiyah worshipped the Imam Jafar Sadik as God. Others believed that the divine spirit had descended upon Abdallah Ibn Amr. In Khorasan the opinion was widely spread that Abu Muslim, the great general who overturned the dynasty of the Ommeyads and set up that of the Abbassides, was an incarnation of the spirit of God. In the same province under Al Mansur, the second Abbasside Caliph, a religious leader named Ostasys professed to be an emanation of the Godhead. He collected thousands of followers, and the movement was not suppressed without much fighting. Under the Caliph Mahdi a self-styled Avatar named Ata arose, who on account of a golden mask which he continually wore was called Mokanna, or “the veiled prophet.” He also had a numerous following, and held the Caliph’s armies in check for several years, till in A. D. 779, being closely invested in his castle, he, with his whole harem and servants, put an end to themselves.
What Al-Ghazali himself thought of these speculations of the Sufis and the danger of this kind of mysticism we learn from his book: “The speculations of the Sufis may be divided into two classes: to the first category belong all the phases about love to God and union with Him, which according to them compensate for all outward works. Many of them allege that they have attained to complete oneness with God; that for them the veil has been lifted; that they have not only seen the Most High with their eyes, but have spoken with Him, and so far as to say ‘The Most High spoke thus and thus.’ They wish to imitate Hallaj, who was crucified for using such expressions, and justify themselves by quoting his saying, ‘I am the Truth.’ They also refer to Abu Yazid Bistami, who is reported to have exclaimed, ‘Praise be to me!’ instead of ‘Praise be to God!’ This kind of speculation is extremely dangerous for the common people, and it is notorious that a number of craftsmen have left their occupation to make similar assertions. Such speeches are highly popular, as they hold out to men the prospect of laying aside active work with the idea of purging the soul through mystical ecstasies and transports. The common people are not slow to claim similar rights for themselves and to catch up wild and whirling expressions. As regards the second class of Sufi speculation, it consists in the use of unintelligible phrases which by their outward apparent meaning and boldness attract attention, but which on closer inspection prove to be devoid of any real sense.”
Not only did Al-Ghazali realize the danger on the side of pantheism, but he was aware that such religious enthusiasm often led to gross hypocrisy. In his _Ihya_ he mentions “that the prophet commanded that whoever did not feel moved to tears at the recitation of the Koran should pretend to weep and to be deeply moved”; for, adds Al-Ghazali sagely, “in these matters one begins by forcing oneself to do what afterwards comes spontaneously.” Moreover, the fact that religious excitement was looked upon as the mark of a fervent mind and devout intensity, vastly increased the number of those who claimed mystic illumination. He divides the ecstatic conditions which the hearing of poetical recitations produces into four classes. The first, which is the lowest, is that of the simple sensuous delight in melody. The second class is that of pleasure in the melody and of understanding the words in their apparent sense. The third class consists of those who apply the meaning of the words to the relations between man and God. To this class belongs the would-be initiate into Sufism. He goes on to say, “He has necessarily a goal marked out for him to aim at, and this goal is the knowledge of God, meeting Him and union with Him by the way of secret contemplation, and the removal of the veil which conceals Him. In order to compass this aim the Sufi has a special path to follow; he must perform various ascetic practices and overcome certain spiritual obstacles in doing so. Now when, during the recitation of poetry, the Sufi hears mention made of blame or praise, of acceptance or refusal, of union with the Beloved or separation from Him, of lament over a departed joy or longing for a look, as often occurs in Arabic poetry, one or the other of these accords with his spiritual state and acts upon him like a spark on tinder, to set his heart aflame. Longing and love overpower him and unfold to him manifold vistas of spiritual experience.
“The fourth and highest class is that of the fully initiated who have passed through the stages above mentioned, and whose minds are closed to everything except God. Such an one is wholly denuded of self, so that he no longer knows his own experiences and practices, and, as though with senses sealed, sinks into the ocean of the contemplation of God. This condition the Sufis characterize as self-annihilation (_Fana_).” (“The Confessions.”)
Elsewhere he compares this highest condition of ecstasy of the human soul to a clear mirror—of course he means the mirror of the ancients made of polished brass or bronze—which reflects the colours of anything towards which it is directed. Again and again he comes back to this metaphor in his books. Sin is like rust on the mirror of the soul. Light is reflected in it, but the rays are no longer clear, until by repentance the rust of guilt and passion are removed.
Al-Ghazali’s mysticism was always accompanied by orthodox insistence on the six articles of faith and the five pillars of practice, through which alone the soul can receive its fundamental impulse towards God.
Yet Al-Ghazali’s mysticism leads him to emphasize always the spiritual side of worship. The mere form is nothing in itself. The author of the Masnavi had mastered Al-Ghazali and absorbed his spirit when he wrote:
“Fools laud and magnify the mosque, While they strive to oppress holy men of heart. But the former is mere form, the latter spirit and truth. The only true mosque is that in the hearts of saints. The mosque that is built in the heart of the saints Is the place of worship of all, for God dwells there.”
What he says on the imitation of God is based almost literally on Al-Ghazali’s book describing God’s attributes.
“God calls Himself ‘Seeing,’ to the end that His eye may every moment scare you from sinning. God calls Himself ‘Hearing,’ to the end that You may close your lips against foul discourse. God calls Himself ‘Knowing,’ to the end that You may be afraid to plot evil. These names are not mere accidental names of God, As a negro may be called _Kafur_ (white); They are names derived from God’s essential attributes, Not mere vain titles of the First Cause.”
Abu Saʾid bin Abu ’l-Khair, also of Khorasan (A. H. 396-440), was one of Al-Ghazali’s teachers in the school of mysticism. When he was asked what a Sufi was he said: “Whatever is in thy head, forget it; whatever is in thy hand, give it away; and whatever happens to thee, disregard it.”