î su ?

)SMJ
ISLAM r* 3®A/i/ I Philosophic )

TWO TYPES OF MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN

MUSLIM IRAN
AN ESSAY ON SUHRAWAEDl SHAYKH AL-ISHRÄQ AND
'AYNULQU2ÄT-I HAMAD ANI *

! Άιζηη
One of the paradoxes of our time is that, at the very moment when
the West is beginning to explore not just more distant lands but
also regions beyond our planet, this same West is engaged also in
the investigation of the inner world, those areas of the soul where
all that is called mysticism is located. The effort to conquer the external
world, the ethos of the Western and modern man, aims at a goal
opposite to that of the mystical quest, the traditional ethos of the
Oriental man. How great the paradox is of the coexistence in the
Western world of the two tendencies referred to above becomes clear
when one realizes what "discovery of the world" signifies for a
mystic such as the author of this celebrated Persian quatrain :

0 you (man) who are the copy of the divine Book,

You who are the mirror of roya) (divine) Beauty,
All that which exists in the world is not outside you :
Whatever you wish, seek it then in yourself; for you are it !

Ay nuskha-yi nänia-yi ïlahï ki tu-î,

way äyina-yi jamäl-i shahì ki tu-ï,
bïrûn zi tu nïst har ci dar 'älam hast,
dar khwud bi-fahb har an ci khwdhï, ki tu-ï.1
Of course, one may wonder whether it is justifiable to identify
Oriental man's traditional ethos with the mystical quest since it is
well known that the Orient has never lacked world conquerors. On
the other hand, a certain tradition of mystical introspection exists

* This is a slightly revised version of a paper which appeared originally in French

in Iranian Civilisation and Culture, ed. by Charles J. Adams (Montreal : McGill
University, 1972), pp. 23-37. Translation from the French by Linda S. Northrup.
1
This oft-cited quatrain, sometimes attributed to Rumi, other times to Majduddin-i
Baghdad! and still others, is in reality that of Najmuddïn-i Razï (d. 1256). Cf. MarmûzâUi
Asadï dar Mazmürät4 Dätvüdi, Wisdom of Persia Series, Vol. VI (Publications of the
Tehran Branch of the Institute of Islamic Studies of McGill University in collaboration
with Tehran University) (Tehran, 1973), introduction p. 11.

187 - 2 0 1 / .
188 THE MUSLIM WORLD

without doubt even in the extreme West. Moreover, if mysticism

is simply a human phenomenon, as we consider it to be, it certainly
could be neither the privilege of any geographical region nor, a
fortiori, of any race or nation whatever. But it remains true that
what has distinguished Occident from Orient since classical antiquity—
or, rather, that by which Western consciousness has differentiated
itself from the East—is an essentially nonmystical, sometimes even
an antimystical, attitude in the West, an attitude which has begun
to spread only very recently in the East. It is remarkable that the
notion of a mystical Orient does not exist only in the imagination
of Westerners, or certain Westerners, but that there is an Oriental
consciousness as well which identifies itself with what we call
mysticism.
It is in Iran, and more precisely in Muslim Iran, that we find one
of the best examples of such an Oriental conception of a mystical
Orient. This example is provided by the illuminative philosophy
or "theosophy of Lights" of Shihâbuddîn Abu Ί-Futüh al-Suhrawardî,
Shaykh al-Ishräq (549/1155-587/1191), who has been cäled "the
resurrector of the wisdom of ancient Persia." It is significant that
his work was neglected almost totally by our Western manuals of
Islamic philosophy until not very long ago—as long as we were satisfied
with considering the role of Islamic philosophy to be uniquely that
of a transmitter to the West of the Greek heritage—with the con-
sequence that the figure of the faithful disciple of Aristotle in the
Western Islamic world, Averroës (Ibn Rushd) (1126-1198), appeared
as the last of the great representatives of philosophy in Islam. The
work of a Henry Corbin 2 was necessary to show us that there did
indeed exist an Islamic philosophy which was in no way content with
being only the interpreter of Aristotle and that the work of Suhrawardï,
the Oriental contemporary of Averroës, acquires its significance
precisely in this context. For it was in turning philosophy away
2
Cf. Henry Corbin, En Islam iranien : aspects spirituels et philosophiques, Il :
Sohrawardï et les Platoniciens de Perse (Paris : Gallimard, 1971), a work which resumes
the research on the "oriental theosophy" undertaken by the eminent philosopher
and orientalist more than thirty years ago. Let us recall that Corbin has made the
editto princeps of several among Suhrawardi's most important works : Opera metaphysica
et mystica, I (Bibliotheca Islamica, Vol. 16a) (Istanbul/Leipzig, 1945), and Opera
metaphysica et mystica, II {Œuvres philosophiques et mystiques, I. Bibliothèque Iranienne,
Vol. 2) (Teheran/Paris, 1952). Œuvres en persan (Opera metaphysica et mystica, III, i.e.,
Œuvres philosophiques et mystiques, Π), have recently been edited by S. H. Nasr,
accompanied by "Prolégomènes" by H. Corbin, as Volume 17 of the Bibliothèque
Iranienne (Teheran/Paris, 1970). See also the study of S. H. Nasr, Three Muslim Sages
(Cambridge : Harvard University Press, 1964), pp. 52-82.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 189

from the Peripateticism of the Hellenized philosophers and in leading

it back to a mystical Platonism whose source he perceived in the
Orient that Suhrawardï became the founder of an entire school of
philosophy known as 'oriental-illuminative* (mashriqi = ishräql) which
expanded particularly in Iran alongside Avicennism.
The 'orientar source from which Suhrawardi's thought draws
its inspiration does not designate in theΊffiïït"pΐá^¥1Γparticular region
of the material world. It is always in the Orient that the Light rises,
and this is why 'oriental' philosophy, in the true sense for Suhrawardï,3
is precisely the illuminative philosophy, the one which orients itself
toward the act of Light (ishräq) which is at once principle of being
and of knowing. However, the geographical sense of the word Oriental'
does not thereby become figurative. Just as 'Light' is for Suhrawardï
not simply an easily replaced or reinterpreted term (as is the case
in the West, where, for example, it is still characteristic to speak
of a 'century of enlightenment' and understand by that one of
'reason'), the Orient of Suhrawardï is not a purely metaphorical
expression lacking any intrinsic value. Since Light, according to
the Shaykh al-Ishräq, is the concrete reality with which the mystical
experience is primarily concerned—in other words, my act of being
and my knowledge of myself, rather than abstract knowledge and
the universal concept of being 4—one understands that the Orient,
identified as the place of this experience, can itself also only be
concrete reality. It is thus that in the symbolical narratives such
as that of the "Occidental Exile," the spiritual homeland of the
mystic is concretized in the geographical Orient—here, the Yemen—
and that the wisdom of ancient Persia becomes the prototype of
this 'oriental-illuminative' philosophy of which Suhrawardï believes
himself to be the renewer.
We know that the most characteristic trait of this ancient Persian
wisdom is the dualism of Light and Darkness, of the Spirit of Good
and Evil. If this is understood as postulating the existence, at a
same level of being, of two eternal antagonistic principles—that

8
The question of the relation of Suhrawardi's "orient" to that of Avicenna
(cf. Corbin, En Islam iranien, II, 26 if.), has recently been taken up again by Parviz
Morewedge, "The Logic of Emanationism and Sufism in the Philosophy of Ibn Sina
(Avicenna)," Pt. I, JAOS, XCI (1971), 467 ff.
4
Suhrawardi's principal objection to peripatetism seems to be hie own thesis that
the predicate "existence" has no reality in itself. The so-called ontological proof for
the existence of God results then only out of confusion between logic and metaphysics,
the true metaphysic being that of ishräq; cf. Hikmat al-Ishräq (Opera m. et m., Π),
§§ 56-63 and §§ 114-120.
190 THE MUSLIM WORLD

is to say, if it is identified with the doctrine which the objective

history of religions attributes to Mazdean orthodoxy 5 —this dualism
obviously has no place in Islam, the monotheistic religion par
excellence, which is also that of Suhrawardï and his followers. There-
fore, to attribute to Suhrawardï the desire for a simple restoration
of Iran's pre-Islamic past would be to mistake profoundly the meaning
and importance of Zoroastrian motifs in his thought. In that, at
least, his adversaries were not mistaken. If they obtained the order
for his execution from the Sultan Saladin, it was in accusing him
not of desiring the restoration of a regime of the past but of having
the intention to found a new Prophetic religion.6 Suhrawardi's primary
concern was to relive in the present the mystical experience of
Zoroaster, that is, to perceive in mystical ecstasy the Zoroastrian
angelology as being identical with the vision and mystical taste
(dhawq) of Hermes, the ancient Trophet of Egypt' and 'father of
the philosophers,' and of Plato, the 'imam of the philosophers.' 7
The Oriental doctrine (qd'idat al-sharq) concerning Light and Darkness
which was the doctrine of the Sages of Persia (hukamd" al-Furs),
is therefore not at all dualistic heresy, Suhrawardï tells us. 8 The thought
of Suhrawardï is thus equally inspired by Neoplatonic emanationism,
and there is no longer any doubt that the priority reverts to Light.
I t is first a pure Light which proceeds from the absolute One, the
latter being the Light of Lights (nur al-anwdr) and the dimension
of the Shadow, meaning the material world, increases only after
the multiplication of several worlds of lights giving birth one to the
other. In other words, insofar as Darkness is negation of Light, it
is not its antagonist, but rather its absence. 9
The Oriental' philosophy of Suhrawardï is essentially, as we have
just seen, mystical thought. Moreover, the true philosophers of Islam
for him are the great Sufis of the classical period, such as Sahl-i
Tustarï (d. 896), Bâyazïd-i Bastami (or Bissami, d. 848 or 874) and
Halläj (d. 922). And there is no doubt that he himself has had an
influence on Süfism, especially through his Persian writings.10 Never-
5
Cf. Jacques Duchesne-Guillemin, La Religion de Viran ancien (Paris : P.U.F., 1962),
pp. 302 ff. and 362 ff., Corbin, En Islam iranien, I I , 23 ff., and all of Chapter I I I .
6
Cf. Corbin, En Islam iranien, II, 15 ff.
7
Hikmat al-Ishräq, §§ 3-4 and § 166, and Corbin, "Prolégomènes, " Opera m. et m.,
I l l , 33 ff.
8
Hikmat al~Ishräq> § 4.
9
Hikmat al-Ishräq, §§ 109 and 42. A touch of dualism remains, however, in that
the physical world is the screen of Light, the barzakh; cf. Corbin, En Iblam iranien,
II, 109 ff.
io Opera m. et m., I I I (cf. above, η. 2).
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 191

theless, if one realizes the distance which separates the Shaykh

al-Ishräq from a Sufi such as his homonym Abu Hafs e Umar al-
Suhrawardi (d. 1234), the celebrated Shaykh of Baghdad with whom
the Suhrawardiyya order is connected, one will hesitate simply to
classify him among the Sùfîs. As far as Sufi meditation owes anything
to a written tradition, it is first to the Qur'an and then to a certain
selection of prophetic traditions, while Süfism in the strict sense
displays a certain mistrust of philosophy. Suhrawardï, Shaykh al-
Ishräq, on the other hand, was first a Peripatetic philosopher before
being converted to the 'oriental' philosophy following his mystical
experience of Light, and he never reneged on his previous training.
The perfect sage is for him the one who possesses simultaneously
speculative knowledge and spiritual experience, and it is on this
point that his work assumes a peculiarly Iranian significance because
it is most of all in Iran that the spiritual life is not limited to that
of the Sufi congregations, but exists equally and until our day in
the very bosom of philosophy.

II

Besides philosophy, poetry should not be forgotten, especially in

Iran, the country which is, according to Goethe, the Land of Poetry
par excellence. There is perhaps an affinity in nature between
mysticism and poetry in general ; but a characteristic of Iran is that
the distinctively mystical poetry—that of Sanä'i (d. 1131), 'A^tär
(d. 1220 or later) and Jaläluddin-i Rumi (d. 1273)—to mention only
the most celebrated names—is an integral part of the great classical
literature and, as such, is dear to every Iranian of traditional culture,
whether Sufi or not. Indeed, the Iranian genius has often known
how to interpret in a mystical way those among the poetic works
that detached analysis would see in a very different light, above all,
Häfiz, but even the great heroic themes of the national epic.11 The
art of interpreting in a mystical manner that which is perhaps not
mystical derives from an ancient Sufi practice developed in the spiritual
concert (sarna').12 One has only to remember the exemplary figure
of Abu Saeïd b. Abï Ί-Khayr (d. 1049)—relatively well known in
the West since Nicholson consecrated a study to him which has now

11
Cf. H. Corbin, "De l'épopée héroïque à l'épopée mystique," Éranos-Jahrbuch,
XXXV (Zurich, 1967), 177-239, and all of Chapter IV of En Islam iranien, II.
12
Cf. Fritz Meier, "Der Derwischtanz; Versuch eines Ueberblicks," Asiatische
Studien (Bern, 1954), notably pp. 122 if.
192 THE MUSLIM WORLD

become classic18—to see that the distinctively Persian Sûfism is

animated essentially, in its practice as well as in its theory, by some-
thing which must be called its poetic spirit, a spiritual liberty whose
corollary is the absence of all rigorous legalism.14
To elaborate and clarify what has been indicated very briefly,
I would like to discuss a spiritual personality still little studied,
whose importance for Iranian Süfism becomes more and more apparent,
c
Aynulquzät-iJIamadäm (492/1098-525/1131).15 If there is a leitmotif
in both the life and thought of this mystic, it is without doubt that
of the conjunction of opposites. First of all, as his title 'Aynulquzdt
indicates, Çamadânï was a judge by profession and frequently calls
himself "the Judge of Hamadän." But it is an extraordinary judge
who tells us that he who wishes to find the Truth must go beyond
the Law ! It is exactly that which the "judge of Hamadän" intimates ;
and he does it not only by more or less timid allusions, as is the case
with most of the Sufis who let us understand that there is an absolute
and hidden Truth (haqtqa) on a level other than that of the practical
Keligious Law (sharVa).1* For Hamadânî, in fact, there exists only
one absolute and divine Truth ; and all that which is not It, including
conventional Islamic Law, is only an idol. This is why he insists
that conventionalism which consists in the idolatry of this Law
18
Reynold Alleyne Nicholson, Studies in Islamic Mysticism (Cambridge : University
Press, 1921), pp. 1-76. See also the article by Hellmut Ritter, "Abu Sa*îd b. Abi 'l-Khayr,"
E J., New Edn.
14
As to the peculiarly Persian consciousness of this §üfism, it is remarkable that
the author of the most ancient biography of Abu Sacïd, written 100 years or so after
the death of the latter, defines waläyat (the quality of a perfect mystic, a Friend of God),
not only as the homologue and the continuation of prophecy (nubuwwat) after the
historic closing of the latter with Muhammad, but also, and in particular, as an affair
reserved to the men of Persia who would come 400 or 500 years after the Prophet.
Cf. Hälät-o sukhanän-i Shaykh Abu Sa*id-i Abu Ί-Khayr-i Mayhanï, ed. Iraj-i Afshâr
(Teheran, 1341 sh.), pp. 7 f.
15
A Hamadanian bibliography will be found in A. J. Arberry, A Sufi Martyr;
the Apologia of *Ain al-Qwfät al-Hamadhäm (London : George Allen & Unwin, 1969),
p. 9. See also Hellmut Ritter, Das Meer der Seele (Leiden : Brill, 1955), p. 678(Index).
Two recent studies by Toshihiko Izutsu, "Mysticism and the Problem of Equivocation
in the Thought of 'Ayn al-QucJât Hamadânî," Studia Islamica, XXXI (1970), 153-170,
and "Creation and the Timeless Order of Things," Phil. Forum, IV (1972-73), 124-140,
give evidence of Hamadânî's importance as a precursor of the Iraní tradition of
Hikmat-type philosophy. In addition, it is a pleasure to announce the forthcoming
publication of an English translation accompanied by an analytical study of Hamadânî's
Zubdat al-Haqä'iq by Dr. 'Umar Jah, formerly of the Institute of Islamic Studies,
McGill University, Montreal.
16
Cf. for example, HujwM, The Kashf al-Mahjub, translated by R. A. Nicholson
(Έ. J. Gibb Memorial Series 17) (Leiden/London, 1911), pp. 383 f.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 193

(sharVat-parasñ) is no different from any other conventionalism

Çadat-parastï). The first condition for him who desires to see the
secret beauty of the Truth is precisely to free himself from the
observance of all convention.17 This may help us to understand what
the true cause was of the displeasure that his teaching raised among
the authorities. Executed on the order of the Seljukid vizir of Iraq,
Qiwâmuddîn-i Darguzïnî, at the same place where he had given his
lessons in Hamadân, he suffered, at the age of thirty-three, the same
fate that Hallâj (922) had known before him and Suhrawardï (1191)
after him. Whether the accusations raised against Hamadânî were
justified or not (he was accused of Ismâ'ïlian tendencies like Hallâj
and of pretending to the prophetic state like Suhrawardï, among
others), bis example brings out the fundamental incompatibility
between the spirit of the mystical consciousness carried to the extreme
and that of the doctors of the Law—an incompatibility, moreover,
which clearly results from the supreme irony by which Hamadânî,
throughout his Persian writings, treats as blind those who see only
the external aspect of the prophetic reality of Muhammad (the
zdhir-bindn).
In the preface to his work in Arabic on mystical theology, the
Zubdat al-Haqd'iq, written at the age of twenty-four, Hamadânî
tells us that not having found the spiritual satisfaction that he was
seeking in his study of all the sciences at his disposal, in particular
speculative theology, it was by the grace of God and by reading the
works of Abu Hamid al-Ghazàlî (d. 1111) during a period of four
years that he was finally delivered from error. In his apology written
nine years later in prison at Baghdad he again underlines this influence
while assuring that all his condemned theses are in perfect accord
with those of the great theologian celebrated for having reconciled
Sûfism and orthodoxy.18 But it is not the reading of Ghazâlî's works
that made a mystic of Hamadânî—and this he himself does not
pretend. In the preface to the Zubdat al-Haqd'iq he thanks Ghazâlï
only for having delivered him from error and unbelief, while speaking
at the same time with reserve of his theological treatise, Al-Iqtisdd
fi Ί-Ptiqdd.19 Five years later, in his long Persian book entitled

« Tamhtdät, ed. cAfif 'Usayrân (Publications de l'Université de Téhéran No. 695

(Teheran : 1341 eh.), pp. 12 and 320.
18
Ziibda, ed. 'Usayrän (Publications de l'Université de Téhéran No. 695), p. 6, and
Shakwâ al-Qharïb, ed. 'Usayrän (same publication), p. 9. Cf. Arberry, Sufi Martyr,
pp. 14 f.
19
Zubda, p. 12. Arberry, Sufi Martyr, p. 11, links "the beginning of the opening
of the spiritual eye" (Zubda, p. 7) directly to the reading of Ghazâlî's works, as being
194 THE MUSLIM WOULD

Tamhlddt (Commentaries) which reveals Hamadänfs true Sufi thought,

he even says that he did not acknowledge the "Proof of Islam,"
Ghazâlï, as a true mystic until that moment, the day when "God
has made me know ... that he also is one of ours." 20 In this entire
book we find only one favorable reference to Ghazâlï, namely, to
his celebrated definition of Light as being that by which things
appear, i.e., exist—a citation, thus, from the Mishkdt al-Anwdr,
the most esoteric of his works.21 The decisive event which led to
the initiation of Hamadânî to mysticism was the encounter with
Abu Hâmid al-Ghazâlf s brother Ahmad, 22 a powerful Sufi personality
(d. 1123 or 1126) known notably for his treatise in Persian on mystical
love, Sawdnih fl 'l-^Ishq,23 and a treatise in Arabic concerning the
spiritual meaning of the Sufi practice of music, Bawdriq al-Ilmd\24
In fact, while continuing the thread of his personal narrative in the
preface to Zubdat al-Haqd'iq, Hamadânî tells us that the true meaning
of a visionary experience (wdqtfa) that he had in vain sought to
understand for nearly a year was revealed to him only when destiny
led Ahmad-i Ghazâlï to Hamadân and he had the opportunity to
become his servant ; the true mystic quest was realized for him only
after this meeting. 25
It is, therefore, the presence of a living master and not the study
of books which was the First Condition of the mystic life of Hamadânî,
and what is true for him in particular, is true for the Sufi in general.
The importance for a Sufi of a teacher whose role exceeds that of
simply a professor inasfar as he functions as an existential model
seems to be, indeed, one of the foundations of Sûfism and especially

caused by it, a notion which is not in Hamadânf s text. The latter affirms to the contrary
(Zubda, p. 6, ultima) that the result of these studies was that he only imagined himself
to have "arrived," that is, that he had the characteristic defect of group III of the
classification established on pp. 9 f. (cf. pp. 5, 4-12).
20
Tamhidät, pp. 280 f.
21
Tamhidät, p. 255. Cf. Al-Ghazâlï, Mishkät al-anwär, ed. *Afifï (Cairo, 1382/1964),
pp. 59 and 63.
22
Cf. H. Corbin, Histoire de la philosophie islamique, I (Paris : Gallimard, 1964)
(Collection idées), 280 ff. Cf. also C. Brockelmann, GAL, I, 426, and S, I, 756.
23
Edited, with a brief introduction under the title, Ahmad GhazzälVs Aphorismen
über die Liebe, by Hellmut Ritter in Bibliotheca Islamica, 15 (Istanbul/Leipzig, 1942).
Cf. the recent edition, based on a combination of Hitter's text with two seventh-century
Tehran manuscripts, by Jawâd-i Nürbakhsh : Risäla-yi Sawänih, Intishärät-i Khânaqâh-i
Ni'matullähi, Nr. 55 (Tehran, 1352 sh./1974).
24
Edited, with an English translation by James Robson, "Tracts on listening to
Music," Oriental Translation Fund, New Series 34 (London, 1938), pp. 63-184.
25
Zubda, p. 7. However, Zubda, p. 72, presupposes the meeting of another "great
Shaykh" of the Çûfïs before that of Ahmad-i Ghazäli.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 195

of Iranian Sùfism.26 This was already foreshadowed in the third

century A.H. in Khurâsân in the manner in which Abu Hafs al-Haddâd,
one of the great Sûfïs of Nayshäpür, treated his disciples, a manner
which differed appreciably from the professorial style of Junayd,
leader of the Sûfïs of Baghdad, 27 and it is certainly very pronounced
in the biographies of Abu Sa'id b. Abï Ί-Khayr. 2 8 In Hamadânî,
the personal experience of such a relationship with Ahmad-i Ghazâlï
and with other Sufi masters 29 is reflected also in a general theory
of mystical education (tarbiyat) developed especially in his Persian
writings. It is true that in the Arabic Zubda the function of the
shaykh is equally defined in general terms as being that of spiritual
direction, sole guarantor of true knowledge and perfect beatitude. 30
But it is in the Persian Tamhtddt that we learn precisely what that
means. On the one hand, we encounter a method which has become
famous in the West in an entirely different historical context under
the name of psychoanalysis. It is, in fact, obligatory for the disciple,
says Hamadânî, 31 to relate to his master and to him alone, all the
states of the soul, in particular, visionary experiences, encountered
by him. On the other hand, what is at stake here goes far beyond
psychoanalysis because the goal of this spiritual pedagogy is the
apprentice's imitation of the master. 32 It is this dimension which
makes this 'apprenticeship' the mystic Way. For the most important
rule for the disciple is the contemplation of God in the mirror which

26
Cf. our study, "Autour de renseignement spirituel," introduction to Correspondance
spirituelle échangée entre ... Esfaräyeni ... et Semanï (Bibliothèque Iranienne, 21)
(Teheran/Paris, 1972), pp. 5 ff.
27
The "doctrine" of Abu Hafs (d. ca. 260/874) consisted in that the whole of
Süfism, including the highest mystical experience, is only "rules of conduct" (ädäb).
(Hujwirî, Kashf al-Mahjûb, tr. Nicholson, pp. 41 f.). Thus, his preferred disciple first
had to learn to behave himself vis-à-vis the teacher as he would vis-à-vis a king in order
to be accepted; cf. Abu Nasr al-Sarräj, TL· Kitäb al-luma* fi %tasawwuf, ed. by
R. A. Nicholson, E. J. W. Gibb Memorial Series 22 (London/Leiden, 1914), pp. 117,16-21.
The royal demeanor (adàb al-mulûk) of Abu Çafs raised the astonishment of Junayd
when he visited the latter with his disciples in Baghdad; cf. Abü Hafs al-Suhrawardï,
Awärif al-matärif (Beyrouth : Dar al-Kitâb ai-arabi, 1966), p. 276, and Attär, The
tadhkiratu Ί-Awliyä, ed. by R. A. Nicholson (Persian Historical Texts 5) (London/Leiden,
1905-1907), I, 236, 20-23. Cf. also the important article by Fritz Meier, "Hurâsân und
das ende der klassischen §üfik," La Persia nel Medioevo (Roma : Accademia Nazionale
dei Lincei, 1971), pp. 545-570, especially 556 ff.
28
Cf. Nicholson, Studies, notably, pp. 21 ff.
29
Cf. Arberry, Sufi Martyr, p. 12.
so Zubda, pp. 71-74.
si Tamhidät, pp. 32 f.
32 Tamhidät, p. 33.
196 THE MUSLIM WORLD

is the spirit of his master, whether the latter be physically present

or not.33 When he has become master in his turn, he will contemplate
himself in the mirror which is the spirit of his disciple, just as God,
through creating the world, creates the mirror in which He con-
templates Himself.34
Notwithstanding appearances to the contrary, Hamadänfs spiritual
pedagogy does not result in anything like an idolatry of the actual
master. Such an interpretation of the disciple—master relationship
would be for him only another exotericism, a form of that zâhir-bïnï
whose perils he denounced, as we have already seen. The proof is
that he does not even refrain from applying the logic of that non-
idolatry to the role of the Prophet Muhammad, figure of the Guide
par excellence. I t is the beginner, he says, who contemplates God
in the Light of Muhammad while the perfect mystic acknowledges
this contemplation of the novice to be an act of shirk. The Light
of the Prophet becomes for him a veil beyond which he must pass
in order to see the divine Light. 35 Consequently, one will hardly
be astonished that Hamadânî considers 'saintship,' the quality of
a perfect mystic (waldyat), as superior to prophetic mission (risdlat)3«—
a position which reminds us in some way of that of the Ismâ'ïlians
of Iran in regard to the imdmat*1 but which seems to contradict the
more orthodox one which Hamadânî had previously defended in the
Zubdat al-Haqd'iq.3*
The differences between the Persian Tamhiddt and the Arabic Zubda
(the latter being written during Ahmad-i Ghazäli's lifetime) could
be interpreted as reflecting a development towards a radical esotericism.
But it seems to us that the person expressing himself in these two
works did not change his thought in any essential manner. The
differences between the Zubda and the Tamhiddt are due, we think,
to differences in modes of expression rather than to the fundamental
intention. I t is the Arabic language which in the Islamic Orient is
the classical means of expression for a disciplined thought, as was
Latin in the Christian West, while it is especially in Persian that
one could allow oneself to give free rein to the poetic inspiration.
33 Tamhidät, pp. 9 and 30 ff.
34 Tamhidät, p p . 9, 30 and especially 272.
38 Tamhidät, p p . 76 f.
36 Tamhidät, p p . 42-47.
37 That is t o say, the tradition of Alamüt. On this, cf. Corbin, Histoire, 1,137 ff. and
notably 144 ff. (on the spiritual knowledge of the imam). The Ismâ'îlian assonances
of Hamadânî seem, in fact, t o be much deeper than Arberry would acknowledge
(Sufi Martyr, p. 16).
38 Zubda, p p . 30 f.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 197

Rather than contradicting himself, Hamadânî seems to unite, by

means of his two chef d'oeuvres, the two great complementary currents
of the spiritual tradition of Muslim Iran which we described above,
and is one of its first representatives. Perhaps he himself had foreseen
it in stating in the Tamhiddt, suggesting the idea of the conjunction
of opposites : "A man of Persia (*ajaml) is incapable of understanding
the Arabic language, unless it is by the intermediary of a dragoman
(tarjuman) who knows both Arabic and Persian.... In a similar manner
the material body which comes from the inferior world and the heart
which is a subtle substance (latlfa) originating in the superior world
have no inherent relation between themselves ; but God has established
between them an intermediary and bond which is their dragoman ...,
the subtle substance which is the fundamental reality of Man
(haqlqat-i adami, also = nihdd)." 39 We shall see at the end of this
article how, in an analogous manner, the dualism of which the world
in general is constituted will be sublimated by the fundamental reality
of the divine Being.
Only a detailed analysis of the two works 40 can show conclusively
that this is in reality the same mystical thought which is expressed
in different ways in the Zubdat al-Haqd'iq and the Tamhiddt. What
constitutes, in our opinion, the real thesis of the Zubda will be
presented first, followed by an outline of the principal theme of the
Tamhiddt, which seems to be the poetical expression of the same thesis.
In the Zubdat al-Haqd'iq, Hamadânî intends, among other things,
to show the insufficiency of the emanatist doctrine according to
which only one can be emanated from the One and that, consequently,
God cannot know particulars. Here, then, it is the opposite position,
that of the theologian Ghazâlï, which Hamadânî makes his own,
at least in appearance, and of which he makes use later to defend
himself against accusations of heterodoxy.41 If viewed more closely,
one perceives that it is in no way by conventionalism that Hamadânî
takes the same position as exoteric theology. It is never a question
for him of sacrificing reason to faith, but rather of going beyond
it in order to obtain an organ of mystic perception (basirà) which
perceives the divine mysteries, Hamadânî explains,42 in the same
manner in which reason knows that which is self-evident, namely,
directly and without premises. Thus, as for the problem concerned,
the various emanatist systems of the Hellenized philosophers are
3» Tamhidät, pp. 142 f.
40
In preparation.
41
Shakwä al-Gharib, pp. 10-12; Arberry, Sufi Martyr, p. 34.
42
Zubda, pp. 27, 65.
198 THE MUSLIM WORLD

not false as long as one remains in the domain of reason, but,

Hamadânî argues, the limitation of the intermediary angels between
the Necessary Being and the First Heaven to three only—Avicenna
seems to be in mind here—is not justified even from the point of
view of reason, while the mystical experience reveals that there are
actually thousands, 43 an idea which clearly anticipates Suhrawardi's
solution. 44 But there is more. What is revealed to the eye of mystical
knowledge (*ayn al-ma*rifa) as evident is that there is no need at
all to explain the procession of multiple beings from the One, very
simply because there isn't any, because there is no existential hierarchy
(tartlb) necessitating such an explanation. 45 The priority of the
Necessary Being (sabq al-wujüd) consists paradoxically in the fact
that God is simultaneously present (mutasdwl, musdwiq) to every-
thing, because His act of being is situated outside of time, and nothing
is with Him unless it is by virtue of a purely existential relation whose
image is the irradiation of the sun (ishrdq).46 It is not, therefore,
by His acting in time that God has knowledge of everything, but
by His very being (huwlya), which is no nearer to the First Emanated
of the philosophers than it is to anything, so that one may say :
" I t is the place from which the things proceed which is the many,
while the totality of things is only an atom in relation to its magni-
tude," 47 or : "The relation between the totality of things and the
extent of divine knowledge is equivalent to that between a nothing
and an infinite ..., because in reality it is God who is the many and
the whole, and all that which is not God which is the one and the
part, or said in a better way : All that which is not God, is not even
a part or a unit, except by virtue of the divine Face (wajh) [of that
thing ?] which approaches His totality and His multitude." 48
We are here very far from the official monotheism, finding ourselves
facing a theomonism no less radical than that of Ibn 'Arabi (d. 1240).49
Consequently, it will be possible to state that the facility with which

43
Zubda, p. 64.
44
Cf. Corbin, En Islam iranien, II, 119 ff.
4
δ Zubda, pp. 24, 63, 66.
46
Zubda, pp. 56 ff., 61 ff., 76, and passim. The "existentialist" version of Ishräq
will be developed, as we know, by Mullâ Cadrà.
4
? Zubda, p. 66.
48
Zubda, pp. 20 f. The problem of the ambiguity of the term wajh, especially in
the uwjüdi-school (Ghazâlï's Mishkät, Hamadânî, Ibn 'Arabi, Jilì, Mulla Sadrá, etc.)
should be studied separately.
49
Like Hamadânî, Ibn 'Arabi will refute the very foundation of all emanationist
thought, Ex Uno no fit nisi unum : Idhä haqqaqta hädhihi *l-mas'ala, yabfal qawlu Ί-hakim :
"lä yasduru *ani Ί-wähid illä voähid." Al-Futuhät al-Makkiya (Cairo, 1293), II, 603.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 199

the doctrine of the great Andalusian master was accepted later in

Iran 5 0 may be explained, at least partially, by the fact that a mystical
thought very near to his own already existed in Iran before him,
namely, that of the judge of Hamadân.
The latter affirms that the gnostics Çarifun) alone are capable
of understanding, in the manner just shown, the relation between
the one and the many or between the many and the one. They are
those who have this organ of mystical perception to which we made
allusion above. But, the verification of such an organ resembles,
Hamadânî insists,51 the taste (dhawq) of the poetic experience that
one has or does not have. And if he submits as much as possible to
the strict discipline of logic in the Arabic Zubda, this is not the case
in the Persian Tamhiddt. Here, on the contrary, the poetic inspiration
is not exhausted even with poetic parts in the formal sense, but
pervades the entire work, in a way that this represents a thought
entirely in images. Moreover, this thought is not submitted to an
evident logical order; it flows rather in free associations. " I t is the
heart which speaks and the tongue which listens," says the author
at the beginning, "and this is why I speak here as it comes to me and
it is impossible to keep an order." 52
Every reader of Hafiz knows the predilection of the great Persian
poet for the qalandarl spirit, this coquettish game with unbelief,
these invitations to leave the mosque in order to go to the tavern
(khardbdt), to dye the prayer rug of the pious ascetic with the wine
of the Magians. But this theme, dear to lyrical poetry, is also one
of the recurrent motifs of the Tamhiddt of Hamadânî who hides
but little his sympathy for all that is opposed to propriety, in particular,
for the prince of all evil doers, the devil (Iblls). However, the sometimes
light appearance of this qalandarl spirit is for Hamadânî, as one
would expect, only the external form of a content directly related
to the secret of his mystical thought.
First of all, there is here as support the celebrated Qur'anic
passage—reflecting in its turn the story of the Angel Satan known
through a Christian apocryphal text—which explains the fall and
damnation of Satan by his refusal, despite divine command, to
prostrate himself like the other angels before Adam. 53 It is following
Hallâj, but without doubt also under the influence of his master
50
Not without encountering some opposition, however. Cf. below, n. 63.
si Zubda, pp. 4, 28.
52
Tamhidät, pp. 16-18. The image is classic in §üfism; cf. Al-Kaläbädhi, Al-Ta^arruf
li-madhhab ahi al-tasamumf (Cairo, 1960), p. 149.
53
Cf. Ritter, Das Meer der Seele, pp. 536-550.
200 THE MUSLIM WORLD

Ahmad-i Ghazâlï, that Hamadânî interprets this refusal of Iblis to

prostrate himself before what is after all only a creature as an act
of pure love for God.54 But Hamadânî does not stop there. For him,
Iblis is not only the prototype of the one who is unjustly condemned,
but also has the function of misleading, of being the representative
of Evil as opposed to Good. If he is the guardian (parda-ddr) of divine
Jealousy, it is also because he is the representative of unbelief (kufr),
that unbelief which the true mystic must not ignore but take upon
himself, in order to go beyond it.55
Second, there is in this dualism a clearly Iranian heritage of which
Hamadânî seems entirely conscious. He cites, in fact, the doctrine
of the Majüs according to which, "The Divinity is two : one is Yazddn,
Light, the other is Ahriman, Darkness. Light is that which commands
the Good, Darkness is that which commands Evil. Light is the pri-
mordial Time of Day, Darkness is the Final Time of Night. Unbelief
(kufr) results from one, faith (Iman) from the other." 56 One is here
far even from Suhrawardï, who, as we have seen, condemns the
dualist heresy by reducing Darkness to the absence of Light. Hamadânî
does not link himself to the dualist doctrine which he reports to us,
it is true, but he does not condemn it either. Rather, one should say
that he sublimates it by the same mystical theomonism whose
systematic explanation he gives in the Zubdat al-Haqd'iq. For this
dualism is at the same time monism in the sense that it penetrates
not only the entire world, but even the Divine Being at the level
of attributes of Essence which are divided into two great categories.
" 0 my friend ! When the Point of the divine Magnitude expanded
from the one Essence to the Circle of pre-eternity and post-eternity,
It did not stop in any thing, so that it was in the world of Essence
that It spread out the scope of Its Attributes. And that is nothing
other than divine Beauty, homologue of Muhammad (Jamdl-i (Cwa-md
arsalndka Hid rahmatan li' l^dlamln") and divine Majesty, homologue
of Iblïs (JalÂl-i "inna Kalayka tónatl ila yawm al-dln")." 57
Probably of gnostic origin and well known in Sûfism before
Hamadânî,58 the fundamental distinction between two great categories
of divine attributes, that of Beauty or Grace (jamdl, lucf) and that

54
Tamhidät, pp. 223, 248.
55
Tamhidät, pp. 28-30, 48-50, 74 f., 119. To this kufr-i fariqat, cf. 'Attar, Manliq
uf-tayr, éd. S. Gawharin (Tehran, 1348/1969), p. 67, w . 1168 ff.
56
Tamhidät, p. 305 (reading mabda' instead of mVäd).
57 Tamhidät, p. 73. Cf. pp. 126 and 187.
58
Cf. Fritz Meier, Die Fawä'ih al-Öamal wa-Fawäiih al-Öuläl des Na$m ad-din
al-Kubrä (Wiesbaden : Steiner, 1957), pp. 79 ff. of the introduction in German.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 201

of Majesty or victorious Violence (jaldl, qahr), becomes thus in Hama-

dânî the homologue of a total dualism which is inspired without
any doubt also by the Magian tradition which he cites—a dualism,
however, that has no real meaning for him except in being the perfect
conjunction of opposites in the unique, divine Being. And there,
fundamentally, it would seem, is the reason for which Iblïs himself
is the most paradoxical figure that exists : at once Light of the divine
Majesty and Darkness of that which is farthest away from it, the
Black Light (nür-i siydh) located above the divine Throne.59

Ill

To conclude, we attempt to compare the characteristic traits of

the two spiritual personalities whose thought we have followed to
this point. But that which such a comparison would establish in the
first place, it seems to us, is the fact that despite their common
Hrfdnl (mystical) background, Suhrawardï and Hamadânî represent
types of mystical thought very different from each other. Perhaps
this is, moreover, quite significant in itself since it makes evident
the richness of this 'irfânï tradition of Muslim Iran which, therefore,
cannot be traced to a single well-defined doctrine.
Let us recall, first of all, that there exist works such as Risdla-yi
Yazddn-shindkht which tradition attributes sometimes to one, some-
times to the other of these two authors.60 Such confusion can certainly
be the result of the feeling that there is something in common between
the two mystical philosophers. Perhaps the most important element
which seems to permit comparison between the two philosophies
is the notion of ishräq, which, as we have seen, plays a major role
not only in Suhrawardï, but also in Hamadânî. It is necessary,
however, to speak rather of two different versions of ishräq : 'emana-
tionist' in Suhrawardi's case, 'existentialist' in that of Hamadânî.
The emanationism of Suhrawardï is defined by the hierarchical
structures of the different orders of Lights in which the world of
Shadows occupies only a very inferior position in the cosmological
scheme; and on the plane of individual mystical psychology, the
Shadows are only that which must be avoided, the Prison from which
the Light must be liberated. It is precisely this pure negativity of

89
Tamhidät, pp. 118 f. This theme will be amplified later, notably in the kubrauñ
school.
60
A thesis on this work (treatise no. xiii in Opera metaphysica et mystica, III), by
Mr. Bezâ Nâzemî, of the Institute of Islamic Studies, McGill University, is in preparation.
202 THE MUSLIM WORLD

the Shadows which gives to Suhrawardi's thought a certain dualistic

touch of Manichaean color despite his condemnation of the "dualist
heresy" which Henry Corbin saw so well.61 On the other hand, what
appears to us to be Hamadänfs fundamental inspiration is precisely
the opposite of this Manichaean-emanationist vision of Suhrawardï.
Hamadânî, in effect, commences, explicitly, by showing himself to
be overtly dualist, citing the doctrine of the Majus without condemning
it, to arrive at what must certainly be characterized as monism.
His dualism has no Manichaean overtones; rather, it comes close to
the Zurvanist solution of the problem, the shadowed side of existence
being as important for him as the luminous side. The existentialist
ishräq of Hamadânî is actually a critique of emanationist philosophy,
resulting in a doctrine of the unity of Being. Although he recognizes
the validity of the emanationist order as long as it is limited to rational
understanding—and even intimates occasionally, going beyond Suhra-
wardi's rationalist interpretation of Avicenna, that it is possible for
emanationism to bear fruit in mystical perception—Hamadânî insists
that in reality (which means for him true mystical understanding)
there is no hierarchy in existence, but a single and same relationship
of simultaneity and equidistance between the Source of Being and
every thing or between Being very simply and Non-Being.
The typological difference between these two visions can be clarified
by stating tentatively that if the thought of Suhrawardï may be
characterized by his preponderant dynamism, that of Hamadânî has
a static quality, a predilection for balanced structures. If mysticism
of the static type is centered on the idea of Being, it is rather Becoming
which constitutes the mental focus of mysticism of the dynamic
type. What is really important for Suhrawardï is an orientation
(istishrdq), that is, the movement of the soul toward the Orient of
Lights ; and his idea of Light is itself a dynamic notion : it (i.e., Light)
is more or less strong. On the other hand, Hamadânî offers us in the
first place a sort of pre-established harmony which seems to be
incompatible with any idea of movement. Actually it is Being reposing
in itself which he sees as the ground of everything. In a particularly
dense passage of his Tamhiddt, he even goes so far as to identify the
ultimate principle of Being (asl-i-wujüd) with a Substance (jawhar)
of which the Accident ('arai) is the Light of Being which is identical
to the Name 'Allah' (cf. S. 24:35).«
Of course, this difference between the dynamic mysticism of

61
See Corbin, En Islam iranien, II, 57 ff.
62
Tamhidät, p. 257.
 MYSTICAL THOUGHT IN MUSLIM IRAN 203

Suhrawardï and the static mysticism of Hamadânî is only of a typo-

logical nature ; that is, it accentuates what seems to be characteristic
of these two authors without pretending to explain them, since typo-
logical labels never explain the personalities to which one attaches
them. But precisely inasmuch as they are labels, they should be able
to be applied to the thought of other great mystics as well and thus
enable us to understand a more general aspect of this eirfânï tradition
to which they belong.
I have in mind here in particular the celebrated controversy which
divided mystics on the subject of the doctrine of the unity of Being
formulated by Ibn 'Arabi (1165-1240). We know that he was severely
criticized by the great mystic of the kubrawl order, 'Alàa uddawla-yi
Simnânï (1261-1336), for having identified the divine Being (haqq)
with absolute Being (wujüd mutlaq).63 I shall not go into the details
of this criticism here, but it seems appropriate to recall that instead
of speaking of a misunderstanding on Simnânï's part, as did so many
Sûfïs of Ibn 'Arabï's school (trying thus to bring Simnânï back to
their cause), it would be more correct to see in the criticism of Simnânï
the expression of a dynamism which, because of its fundamental
premises, cannot be reduced to Ibn c Arabï's thought which is without
doubt the most perfect expression of the 'static' type of mysticism
in Islam. It would certainly be abusive simply to identify Ibn 'Arabi
with Hamadânî or Simnânï with Suhrawardï. But the analogies
between the two cases seem important enough to justify a comparative
study. First of all, we note here that the same observation imposes
itself in the case of Ibn 'Arabi and Simnânï in regard to their key
idea of tajalll or theophany as that just made regarding the concept
of ishrdq in the case of Hamadânî and Suhrawardï. The same notion
does not at all imply the same idea. While for Ibn 'Arabi the infinite
multitude of theophanies or automanifestations of the divine Being
(haqq) are only, in the last analysis, one and the same tajallî, 64 Simnânï
insists on an ontological difference between four levels of tajallî
which he distinguishes everywhere because he conceives of them rather
as manifestations of the divine activity of causing to exist (/£'£ al-ljdd),
thus, of a dynamic entity. Second, it is Becoming rather than Being
which is the goal of his spiritual effort, that is to say, an ascensional
movement without end and which directs itself toward an I absolute

63
See our article, "Der Briefwechsel zwischen Kâsânî und Simnânï über Wahdat
al-Wugüd," in Der Islam, L (1973), 29-82.
64
§adruddin-i Qönyawi (al-Qünawi) insists on this in his Pjäz al-bayän fi ta'wil
umm al-qur'än (Hyderabad-Deccan, 1949), p. 35.
204 THE MUSLIM WORLD

(andnlyat or and'lyat), as is the case with Suhrawardï,βδ and not

toward an It absolute (humyat). On the other hand, it is precisely
the latter which constitutes the keystone of the thought of Hamadânî
and Ibn 'Arabi.ββ
In view of all that, the conclusion seems inevitable that that which
separates Simnânï from the mystics of the wüjüdl school reveals a
profound typological difference analogous to that which we found
between Suhrawardï and Hamadânî. This analogy permits us in turn
to advance the hypothesis that the divergencies existing within the
'irfânï tradition cannot be explained uniquely by the contingencies
of the history of ideas, but should be studied in the light of a general
phenomenology of mysticism.

Institute of Islamic Studies HERMANN L A N P O L T |

McGill University, Montreal, Canada

65
On the concept of anäniyat in Simnânï, see Corbin, En Islam iranien, IH, 275 ff.,
and our article, "Deux opuscules de Semnânî sur le Moi théophanique," in Henry
Corbin Festschrift (to appear shortly, in Wisdom of Persia Series IX). On the importance
of the same concept in Suhrawardï, cf. Corbin, En Islam iranien, II, 63, and Suhrawardï,
Safir-i Simurgh, Opera m. et m., I l l , 325 f.
66
For Hamadânî, see supra, p. 198. For Ibn *Arabî, cf. T. Izutsu, A Comparative
Study of tL· Key Philosophical Concepts in Sufism and Taoism, Pt. I. TL· Ontology of
Ibn *Arabi (Tokyo : Keio Institute of Cultural and Linguistic Studies, 1966), index
s.v. huwiyyah.
 ^ s
Copyright and Use:

As an ATLAS user, you may print, download, or send articles for individual use
according to fair use as defined by U.S. and international copyright law and as
otherwise authorized under your respective ATLAS subscriber agreement.

No content may be copied or emailed to multiple sites or publicly posted without the
copyright holder(s)' express written permission. Any use, decompiling,
reproduction, or distribution of this journal in excess of fair use provisions may be a
violation of copyright law.

This journal is made available to you through the ATLAS collection with permission
from the copyright holder(s). The copyright holder for an entire issue of a journal
typically is the journal owner, who also may own the copyright in each article. However,
for certain articles, the author of the article may maintain the copyright in the article.
Please contact the copyright holder(s) to request permission to use an article or specific
work for any use not covered by the fair use provisions of the copyright laws or covered
by your respective ATLAS subscriber agreement. For information regarding the
copyright holder(s), please refer to the copyright information in the journal, if available,
or contact ATLA to request contact information for the copyright holder(s).

About ATLAS:

The ATLA Serials (ATLAS®) collection contains electronic versions of previously

published religion and theology journals reproduced with permission. The ATLAS
collection is owned and managed by the American Theological Library Association
(ATLA) and received initial funding from Lilly Endowment Inc.

The design and final form of this electronic document is the property of the American
Theological Library Association.