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The Mystics of al-Andalus

The twelfth century CE was a watershed moment for mysticism in the

Muslim West. In al-Andalus, the pioneers of this mystical tradition, the
Muʿtabiruˉn or “Contemplators,” championed a symbiotic reading of
Muslim scriptural sources alongside Neoplatonized cosmological
doctrines. Ibn Barrajaˉn of Seville was most responsible for shaping
this new intellectual approach to the Qurʾaˉ n and Hadıˉth in the
Muslim West, and is the focus of Yousef Casewit’s book. Ibn
Barrajaˉn’s extensive commentaries on the divine names and the
Qurʾaˉn stress the significance of God’s signs in nature, the Arabic
Bible as a means of interpreting Muslim scripture, and the mystical
“crossing” (i’tibaˉr) from the visible to the unseen. With an
examination of the understudied writings of both Ibn Barrajaˉn and his
contemporaries, Ibn al-ʿArıˉ f and Ibn Qasıˉ, as well as the wider socio-
political and scholarly context of al-Andalus, this book will appeal to
researchers of the medieval Islamic world and the history of Sufism in
the Muslim West.

Yousef Casewit is Assistant Professor of Qurʾanic Studies at the

University of Chicago. He was formerly a Humanities Research
Fellow at New York University, Abu Dhabi. He is the co-editor (with
Gerhard Böwering) of A Qurʾaˉn Commentary by Ibn Barrajaˉn of
Seville (2016).
Cambridge Studies in Islamic Civilization

Editorial Board
Chase F. Robinson, The Graduate Center, The City University of New York
(general editor)

Michael Cook, Princeton University

Maribel Fierro, Spanish National Research Council
Alan Mikhail, Yale University
David O. Morgan, Professor Emeritus, University of Wisconsin-Madison
Intisar Rabb, Harvard University
Muhammad Qasim Zaman, Princeton University

Other titles in the series are listed at the back of the book.
The Mystics of al-Andalus
Ibn Barrajaˉ n and Islamic Thought
in the Twelfth Century

YOUSEF CASEWIT
The University of Chicago
University Printing House, Cambridge CB2 8BS, United Kingdom
One Liberty Plaza, 20th Floor, New York, NY 10006, USA
477 Williamstown Road, Port Melbourne, VIC 3207, Australia
4843/24, 2nd Floor, Ansari Road, Daryaganj, Delhi – 110002, India
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Cambridge University Press is part of the University of Cambridge.

It furthers the University’s mission by disseminating knowledge in the pursuit of
education, learning, and research at the highest international levels of excellence.

www.cambridge.org
Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781107184671
DOI: 10.1017/9781316882252
© Yousef Casewit 2017
This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception
and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements,
no reproduction of any part may take place without the written
permission of Cambridge University Press.
First published 2017
Printed in the United Kingdom by Clays, St Ives plc
A catalogue record for this publication is available from the British Library.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Casewit, Yousef, author.
Title: The mystics of al-Andalus : Ibn Barrajan and Islamic thought in the
twelfth century / Yousef Casewit, American University of Sharjah, UAE.
Description: Cambridge ; New York : Cambridge University Press, [2017] |
Series: Cambridge Studies in Islamic Civilization
Identifiers: LCCN 2016056427 | ISBN 9781107184671
Subjects: LCSH: Ibn Barrajaˉn, ʿAbd al-Salaˉ m ibn ʿAbd al-Rahmaˉ n ibn
Muhammad, –1141. | Sufism – Spain – Andalusia – History. |˙
˙
Mysticism – Islam – Spain – Andalusia. | Sufis – Spain – Andalusia – Biography.
Classification: LCC BP188.8.S72 A533 2017 | DDC 297.409468–dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016056427
ISBN 978-1-107-18467-1 Hardback
Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy
of URLs for external or third-party Internet websites referred to in this publication
and does not guarantee that any content on such websites is, or will remain,
accurate or appropriate.
 To my dear wife, Maliha Chishti,
the love and joy of my life,
who surpasses me in character and scholarship.
 Contents

Acknowledgments page xii

Notes on the Text xv
List of Abbreviations xvi

Introduction 1
Ibn Barrajaˉn at the Forefront of the Muʿtabiruˉn Tradition 5
Literature Review 8
Overview of Chapters 9
The Historical Context: The Rise and Demise
of the al-Muraˉ bituˉn Dynasty 14
˙
1 The Beginnings of a Mystical Discourse in al-Andalus 22
Ibn Masarra, Maˉlikism, and the Politics of an
Epistemological Debate
Introduction 22
I Renunciation 25
The Early Umayyad Period 25
Retreaters from the Political Sphere 27
The Late Emirate and Early Caliphate Period 28
The Renunciant Tradition in Seville 30
II Ibn Masarra: The First Andalusıˉ Muʿtabir 33
III Politicized Epistemological Debates 39
Polemics Over the “Acquisition of Prophecy” and “Miracles
of Saints” 39
Was There an Usuˉl Controversy in al-Andalus? 42
˙
The Al-Muraˉ bituˉn State-Jurist Entente 46
˙
The Ihyaˉ ʾ Controversy 50
˙

vii
viii Contents

2 The Rise of the Andalusıˉ Muʿtabiruˉn 57

The Influence of Ghazaˉ lıˉ , Markers of the Muʿtabiruˉ n Tradition,
and the Onset of Institutional Sufism
Introduction 57
I Ghazaˉ lıˉ’s Intellectual Influence During the Formative Period
of Andalusıˉ Mysticism 59
Ibn Barrajaˉn 59
Ibn al-ʿArıˉ f 61
Ibn Qasıˉ 64
II Were Ibn Barrajaˉ n, Ibn al-ʿArıˉf, and Ibn Qasıˉ “Sufis”? 67
Was Renunciation a Precursor of Sufism? 74
III The Onset of Institutional Sufism in the Maghrib
and al-Andalus 84
Ibn Tuˉmart 84
Abuˉ Madyan: “The Junayd of the West” 86
Taˉdilıˉ’s Sufi Hagiography: al-Tashawwuf 88
3 The Life of a Contemplative 91
Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s Educational Formation, Spiritual Practices,
Political Views, and Decease
Introduction 91
I Early Years, Educational Training 92
His Nisba, Kunya, Ism, Laqab 92
His Brother and “Grandson” 96
Educational Formation 98
The religious sciences and the “sciences of the ancients”
(ʿuluˉ m al-awaˉʾil) 98
His attitude toward jurisprudence (fiqh) and legal theory
(usuˉ l al-fiqh) 104
˙
II His Students and Disciples 107
III Eschewing the Sultan (inqibaˉ d ʿan al-sult aˉ n), Political Views,
and Decease ˙ ˙ 111
Practice of Inqibaˉ d 111
˙
Methodical Practice of Iʿtibaˉr 114
Practice of Dhikr 115
Political Views 117
The Imaˉ mate 117
Jihaˉd 119
End-times 121
Summoning of Ibn al-ʿArıˉ f, Mayuˉrqıˉ , and Ibn Barrajaˉ n
to Marrakesh 122
Ibn al-ʿArıˉ f’s Death 124
 Contents ix

Abuˉ Bakr b. al-Mayuˉrqıˉ’s Death 124

Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s Death 125
4 The Works of Ibn Barrajaˉ n 128
Chronological Sequence, Manuscript Tradition,
Central Themes
Introduction 128
I Al-Irshaˉ d ilaˉ subul al-rashaˉd 129
Contextualizing the Irshaˉ d 131
Excerpt of the Irshaˉ d from Zarkashıˉ 132
II Sharh asmaˉ ʾ Allaˉ h al-husnaˉ 136
˙ ˙
Ibn Barrajaˉn’s Interpretive Approach to the Divine Names 141
Organizational Structure of the Sharh 144
˙
1 Lexical analysis (takhrıˉ j lughawıˉ ) 144
2 Contemplative crossing (iʿtibaˉr) 144
3 Devotional practice of servanthood (taʿabbud) 147
Letter Speculations in the Sharh 148
˙
Ibn Barrajaˉn’s Sharh versus Ghazaˉ lıˉ’s Maqsad 150
˙ ˙
Unidentified Sources of the Sharh 154
˙
Citations and References in the Sharh 155
˙
III Tanbıˉ h al-afhaˉm ilaˉ tadabbuˉ r al-kitaˉb al-hakıˉ m
˙
wa-taʿarruf al-aˉyaˉt wa-l-nabaʾ al-ʿazˉı m 157
˙
Stylistic and Organizational Features of the Tanbıˉ h 159
IV Īdaˉ h al-hikma bi-ahkaˉm al-ʿibra 163
˙ ˙ ˙
Introduction,
˙
Style, Structure, and Composition of the Īdaˉh 165
˙ ˙
Central Themes of the Īdaˉ h 166
˙ ˙
Citations in the Tanbıˉ h and Īdaˉ h 167
˙ ˙
V ʿAyn al-yaqıˉ n 170
5 The Divine Descent 171
Bridging the Chasm between God and Creation
Introduction 171
I The Doctrine of the Universal Servant (al-ʿabd al-kullıˉ ) 172
The Universal Servant Versus the Particular Servant (al-ʿabd
al-juzʾıˉ ) 176
The Principle of Correspondence Between the Human Being,
Creation, and Revelation 177
II The Reality Upon Which Creation Is Created (HMBK) 181
HMBK Heralds the Clear Reality (al-Haqq al-Mubıˉ˙n) 188
˙ ˙
III Ontology: One Wujuˉ d, Two Worlds, Multiple Levels 190
Between Tanzıˉ h of the Ashʿarıˉ s and Tashbıˉ h of the
Anthropomorphists 190
Scriptural Proof-Texts for Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s Ontology 193
x Contents

The Hidden Object (al-khabʾ) 193

The Two Breaths (nafasayn/fayhayn) 195
˙
A Philosophical Explanation: Imaginal Existence
(al-wujuˉ d al-mithaˉ lıˉ ) 195
The Parable of the Mustard Seed 197
IV Reading the Signs of God 199
The Exclusive Signs of God (aˉ yaˉt khaˉ ssa): Sun and Moon 202
˙˙
Water: The Active Principle of Existence 203
Secondary Signs of God 204
6 The Hermeneutics of Certainty 206
Harmony, Hierarchy, and Hegemony of the Qurʾaˉ n
Introduction 206
I Harmony: The Qurʾaˉn as a Perfect and Unequivocal
Text 209
Harmoniousness and Coherence of the Qurʾaˉ n (nazm) 209
˙
Thematic harmony 212
Themes of the Suˉras 215
Explicative harmony 216
Symmetrical harmony 217
The Theory of Abrogation (naskh) 217
II Hierarchy: From the Celestial Tablet to the Written
Page 221
Hierarchical Levels of the Qurʾaˉ n 221
The “Supreme Qurʾaˉn” Versus the “Exalted Qurʾaˉ n” 223
“Compact” (muhkamaˉ t) Versus “Consimilar” (mutashaˉbihaˉ t)
˙
Verses 226
The “Disconnected Letters” (al-huruˉ f al-muqat t aʿa) 230
˙ ˙˙
The Primacy of Suˉras 1 (al-Faˉ tiha) & 2 (al-Baqara) 234
˙
Protological and Escatological Modes of Interpretation (taʾwıˉ l) 236
III Hegemony: The Epistemological Primacy of the
Qurʾaˉ n 238
The Qurʾaˉ n Is Its Own Interpreter 238
Variant Readings (qiraˉʾaˉ t) and the Seven Lectiones (ahruf) 240
˙
The Use of Weak Hadıˉ ths to Explain the Qurʾaˉ n 241
˙
7 A Muslim Scholar of the Bible 245
Biblical Proof-Texts for Qurʾaˉ nic Teachings in the Exegetical
Works of Ibn Barrajaˉ n
Introduction 245
Ibn Barrajaˉ n and the Arabic Bible 248
Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s Access to the Books of the Bible 250
The Epistemological Hegemony of the Qurʾaˉ n 255
The Supersession of Pre-Islamic Religions (naskh) 257
 Contents xi

Interpretive Solutions to Interscriptural Incongruities 259

1 Historical Contextualization 259
2 Allegorical Interpretation (taʾwıˉ l) 260
Does the Bible Challenge the Qurʾaˉ n? 261
Two Extremes: Ibn Hazm’s Versus Ibn Barrajaˉn’s Biblical
Engagement ˙ 262
8 The Human Ascent 266
Iʿtibaˉr, Cycles of Time, and Future Predictions
Introduction 266
I Iʿtibaˉr: Acquiring Empirical Knowledge of the Self 269
Negotiating the Boundaries of the Unseen 275
His Assessment of Ibn Masarra’s iʿtibaˉ r 277
His View of the Falaˉsifa 278
An Egalitarian Spirituality? 278
II The Descent of the Divine Command 280
The Structure of the Cosmos 280
The Descent of the Divine Command 282
The Cycles of Determination 283
The Cyclical Concept of Time (dawaˉ ʾir al-zamaˉ n) 286
The Symbolic Significance of Number 6 288
The Cycle of 1,000 Lunar Months 293
III Future Predictions 294
The Jerusalem Prediction 299
Translation of the Jerusalem Prediction 302
Conclusion 307
Why Did Ibn Barrajaˉ n Choose the Divine Names Tradition
and Qurʾaˉnic Exegesis to Express His Teachings? 308
Rethinking Exegesis Versus Eisegesis 308
His Main Sources 310
A Final Thought on the “Ghazaˉlıˉ of al-Andalus” 313

Bibliography 315
Index of Names 346
Index of Terms 349
 Acknowledgments

According to a well-known hadıˉth, “He who has not thanked others has
˙
not thanked God.” First and foremost, I wish to express my profound
gratitude to my former advisor and dissertation director Professor
Gerhard Böwering who introduced me to Ibn Barrajaˉ n and discovered
many of his manuscripts. Böwering’s continuous encouragement,
steadfast dedication, gentle mentorship, assiduous feedback, humility,
and unfailing support – both academic and otherwise – over the years
have kept this study and its author afloat. Through his example, I have
come to appreciate the beauty and subtlety of the scholarly ideal, and
I am honored to be his student. I also wish to express my immense
gratitude to Professor Frank Griffel for his support, thought-provoking
comments, and constructive feedback over the years. A sincere thanks
to Professor Beatrice Gruendler as well for her refined literary touch.
I also owe a heartfelt thanks to Professor William Chittick. Certain key
parts of this study would have gone amiss had it not been for our
long conversations about Ibn ʿArabıˉ and Ibn Barrajaˉn over cups of
unsweetened Japanese green tea. I cherish his profound wisdom, kind
generosity, piercing wit, and warm hospitality. Last but certainly not
least, I am immensely indebted to my esteemed instructors from my
undergraduate days for their foundational guidance and continued
support. “And excellence (fadl) is owed to the predecessor in all cases”
˙
(waʾl fadlu liʾl saˉbiq fıˉ kulli haˉl).
˙ ˙
In speaking of fad l, I must also acknowledge the immense generosity
˙
of several institutions and centers that have assisted me over the years.
I owe tremendous gratitude to Yale University’s Graduate School of

xii
 Acknowledgments xiii

Arts and Sciences and the Macmillan Center for supporting my years of
doctoral research upon which much of this study is based. The timely
completion of this work was also facilitated by the generous support
of New York University Abu Dhabi’s (NYUAD) Humanities Research
Fellowship Program in 2015–2016. I am particularly grateful to NYUAD’s
Professor Reindert Falkenburg for his trust and encouragement, and to
Alexandra-Lleana Sandu-Pieleanu as well as Manal Demaghlatrous for
their continuous assistance and kindness. I also thank the American
Institute of Maghrib Studies (AIMS) for awarding me a Multi-Country
Manuscript Research Grant (Turkey, Morocco, Mauritania) for the year of
2010–2011.
During my research year in Mauritania I accrued debts to many
erudites. I wish to express my appreciation to the scholars at the
Madrasa of al-Nubbaˉ ghiyya (mahdara) for their extraordinary nomadic
˙˙
hospitality and awesome learned company. In particular, my deepest
gratitude goes to two inspiring and radiant Shaykhs, Muhammad Faˉl
˙
(Shaykh ʾBaˉh) and Shaykh al-Mukhtaˉr Ould Hammaˉda. I also thank my
˙
dear friend and colleague, Abubakar Sadiq Abdulkadir, whose loyal
friendship and tolerable cooking sustained me during our intensive quest
for knowledge (t alab al-ʿilm) in West Africa.
˙
I am grateful to my two anonymous reviewers for their excellent
comments and to Issam Eido, Mohammed Rustom, and Aydogan Kars
for their insightful feedback. A special thanks to Joseph Young for
his editorial assistance. I am also indebted to several colleagues
including Denis Gril, Vincent Cornell, ʿAbd al-Rahˉı m al-ʿAlamıˉ ,
˙
Jawad Qureshi, Samuel Ross, Matthew Melvin-Koushki, Hussein
Abdulsater, Matteo Di Giovanni, Mareike Koertner, Oludamini
Ogunnaike, Ryan Brizendine, Bilal Orfali, Munjed Murad, Martin
Nguyen, Justin Stearns, Omer Bajwa, Rose Deighton, and Faris
Casewit for their support and feedback.
Most of all, my love and gratitude goes to my dear family: to my
mother, Fatima Jane Casewit, for her presence, love, and support; and
to my father Daoud Stephen Casewit for his love, guidance, and diligent
editorial assistance; and to my beloved brothers and sisters. A very
warm and special regards to Arshad Patel and Maha Chishti for their
love, steadfastness, and beauty of soul; to Noora for her kindness; to my
fishing partners Iydin and Ibrahim; and to Zayaan for her extraordinary
help with the girls. I thank Winnie Regala for her help on the home front.
Last but not least, I am grateful to my inspiring wife, Maliha Chishti, for
xiv Acknowledgments

her forbearance and unconditional love, and our two early-rising

daughters, Ayla and Hanan (a.k.a., crouching tiger, hidden dragon) for
putting up with the yearly intercontinental moves and the continuous
requests for bousas.
Waʾl hamdu liʾLlaˉhi ʿalaˉ niʿamihi ʾllatıˉ laˉ tuhsaˉ.
˙ ˙˙
 Notes on the Text

The Arabic transliteration system employed throughout this book

follows a slightly modified version of the system recommended by the
International Journal of Middle East Studies. Proper nouns as well as
technical Arabic words that are now common in English, such as Qurʾaˉ n,
hadıˉth, jihaˉ d are fully transliterated. I rely on a slight modification of
˙
the transliteration system used by Encyclopaedia Iranica for the rare
transliterations of Persian words.
Both hijrıˉ and Common Era dates are provided in the form hijrıˉ /CE
Thus, Ibn Barrajaˉ n died in 536/1141. References in the footnotes are
short, and consist usually of the author’s surname and a shortened title
of his/her work. A handful of works are referred to by other abbreviations
which are listed in the next section. Encyclopedia articles are cited in
the footnotes as: Abridged Name of Encyclopaedia, “Title of Article,”
(Author). For example: EI3, “Abuˉ Madyan,” (D. Gril). Manuscripts (sing.
MS, pl. MSS) are cited as Abridged Title of Manuscript, Place, MS Library
Collection and Number (Number of Folios; hijrıˉ date of copying). For
example: Sharh, Istanbul, MS Topkapı Ahmet III 1495 (257 ff.; 595 h).
˙
Translations of the Qurʾaˉ n rely considerably upon S. H. Nasr’s
The Study Quran (New York, 2015) and A. J. Arberry’s The Koran
Interpreted, 2 vols. (London, 1955). Formulaic invocations of blessings
upon the Prophet Muhammad and/or his family and Companions are
˙
often omitted from the English translations for the sake of brevity.

xv
 Abbreviations

EI2 Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd Edition, eds. H. Ar. R. Gibb et al.,

13 vols., Leiden, 1960–2009.
EI3 Encyclopaedia of Islam Three, eds. K. Fleet et al., Leiden, 2007 –.
Leiden, 1960–2009.
EIr Encyclopædia Iranica, ed. E. Yarshater, 15 vols., New York:
Bibliotheca Persica Press, 1985 – present.
EQ Encyclopedia of the Qurʾaˉ n, ed. J. D. McAuliffe, 6 vols. Leiden,
2001–2006.
GAL Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, Carl Brockelmann, Leiden:
Brill, 1996.
GAS Geschichte des arabischen Schrifttums, Fuat Sezgin, 13 vols.,
Leiden: Brill, 1967–2000.

xvi
 Introduction

The most common misconception about the history of Andalusıˉ mysti-

cism is that it is popular and therefore well-studied. While the extra-
ordinary impact of this tradition upon Islamic thought as a whole is
widely acknowledged, only its prominent fourth-/tenth- and seventh-/
thirteenth-century representatives have received some of the attention
they deserve. Broadly speaking, modern scholarship has accounted
for Muhammad b. Masarra al-Jabalıˉ ’s (d. 319/931) surviving mystico-
˙
philosophical treatises, as well as the central corpus of writings penned
by “The Greatest Master” (al-shaykh al-akbar) Muhyıˉ al-Dıˉ n b. ʿArabıˉ
˙
(d. 637/1240). However, much of the formative early sixth-/twelfth-
century period remains terra incognita. We are a long way from
a nuanced appreciation of the ways in which figures such as Ibn
Barrajaˉ n (d. 536/1141), Ibn al-ʿArıˉ f (d. 536/1141) and Ibn Qasıˉ
(d. 546/1151) contributed to Andalusıˉ mystical thought and provided
a link between the early Masarrıˉ tradition and later elaborations of Ibn
ʿArabıˉ . These middle-term scholars played a formative role in develop-
ing the Andalusıˉ mystical tradition, but are largely forgotten, eclipsed,
and assessed through Ibn ʿArabıˉ ’s interpretive lens in both medieval and
modern sources. What doctrines did they espouse? In what ways did the
teachings of Andalusıˉ s like Ibn Masarra, as well as Eastern scholars like
Abuˉ Haˉ mid al-Ghazaˉ lıˉ (d. 505/1111) bear upon them? To what extent
˙
did they impact Ibn ʿArabıˉ and his contemporaries? How did they
perceive their own place within the Islamic scholarly tradition? And
how did they self-identify vis-à-vis the broader Arabic Sufi tradition in

1
2 Introduction

the Eastern heartlands of Islam? Such questions have rarely been posed,
and even less have been answered.1
This study of the formative sixth-/twelfth-century period of Andalusıˉ
mysticism, which focuses in particular on Ibn Barrajaˉn’s writings, is
intended as a contribution to the ongoing reassessment of the intellectual
developments of the late al-Muraˉbituˉn period in al-Andalus. It also
˙
affords a reevaluation and corrective of certain uncharted and misunder-
stood religious tendencies during this period. First, this study corrects
the assertion by some that the formative Andalusıˉ mystical tradition was
a backward version of the classical Sufism of the East. It also corrects the
notion that this tradition was a passive fertile soil into which Ghazaˉlıˉ’s
encyclopedic “Revival of the Religious Sciences” (Ihyaˉʾ ʿuluˉ m al-dıˉ n) and
˙
Sufism were implanted. Eastern Sufi and renunciant literature written by
figures like Ghazaˉlıˉ, Muhaˉsibıˉ (d. 243/857), Tustarıˉ (d. 283/896), and
˙
Makkıˉ (d. 386/996), as well as Ashʿarıˉ theology and certain elements
of philosophy, did inform the writings of Andalusıˉ mystics during the
formative period, but to a much lesser degree than has been assumed.
Rather, champions of Andalusıˉ mysticism espoused a symbiosis of
Qurʾaˉ nic teachings and Sunnıˉ Hadıˉth with the Neoplatonizing treatises
˙
of the Brethren of Purity (Ikhwaˉ n al-Safaˉ), the writings of Ibn Masarra,
˙
and, through indirect contact, Faˉ timıˉ Ismaˉ ʿıˉlıˉ cosmological doctrines
˙
circulating in the intellectual milieu of al-Andalus. As such, exponents of
this symbiotic mystical discourse were more interested in cosmology, the
science of letters, cyclical notions of time, and the principle of associative
correspondence between heaven and earth than in Sufi wayfaring, ethics,
and the psychology of the soul.
Al-Andalus was home to an indigenous mysticophilosophical tradition
that was distinct from the Arabic Sufi tradition that developed in the
central and eastern lands of Islam. This typological distinctiveness is
confirmed by the self-image that Ibn Barrajaˉ n, Ibn Qasıˉ, and to a certain
extent Ibn al-ʿArıˉf had of their own place within the Islamic tradition, as
well as their near-total neglect of Ghazaˉ lıˉ and the broader body of Sufi
writings. They tended to keep Sufism (tasawwuf) at arm’s length, and
˙
rarely employed the term. As a case in point, Ibn Barrajaˉ n spoke of Eastern
Sufism only in the third person. That is, he described them as a distinct
group of pietists who developed their own set of terminology. He admired

1
Ebstein’s analysis of the influence of Ismaˉ ʿıˉ lıˉ and Brethren thought on Ibn Masarra and Ibn
ʿArabıˉ in Philosophy and Mysticism in al-Andalus is a welcome addition to the subject. See
also his article “Was Ibn Qasıˉ a Sufi?”
 Introduction 3

Sufis for codifying the ethical teachings and spiritual states and stations
of the renunciants (zuhhaˉ d), but saw Sufis as being less mystically and
philosophically inclined than the Andalusıˉ tradition to which he belonged.
He considered Sufism to be an intensely pious, behaviorally and ethically
oriented, individualistic pursuit of self-purification. Their divisions and
subdivisions of the virtues, states (sing. haˉl), and stations (sing. maqaˉm)
˙
were of little interest to him, for he preferred to focus on the crossing or
penetration (ʿibra) into the unseen world (ghayb) through signs of God in
physical existence.
The Andalusıˉ mystics of the formative early sixth/twelfth century,
and especially Ibn Barrajaˉn, self-identified as “Muʿtabiruˉn,” or
“Contemplatives” (lit. practitioners of iʿtibaˉr, or the Masarran ʿibra
“crossing” into the unseen). Although the term Muʿtabir is rooted in the
Qurʾaˉn (Q. 3:13, 12:111, 16:66, 59:2) and is not the exclusive property of
Ibn Masarra and his followers, it is a designation that they most often
identified with and that captured their shared mystical orientation.
The Muʿtabiruˉn, moreover, proclaimed theirs to be an Abrahamic
approach, since Abraham (Q. 6:74–79) arrived at knowledge of divine
unity by contemplating God’s signs in creation, thereby embodying Ibn
Masarra’s mysticophilosophical quest for certainty (yaqıˉ n). Ibn Masarra
proclaimed the intellect’s (ʿaql) ability to ascend to the highest divine
mysteries without taking recourse to revelatory knowledge, and his writ-
ings served as an important source of inspiration for the Muʿtabiruˉn.
Although Ibn Masarra was persecuted and accused of heresy, his resilient
ideas continued to resurface and evolve through the teachings of various
Andalusıˉ mystics over the next 200 years, only to receive their fullest
elaborations in the early sixth/twelfth century. After the collapse of the
al-Muraˉbituˉn dynasty in the mid-sixth/twelfth century and the rise of the
˙
pro-Ghazaˉ lian al-Muwahhiduˉn regime, the teachings of the Muʿtabiruˉn
˙˙
were absorbed into the broader nascent Sufi tradition across the Muslim
West. These teachings were resynthesized in the voluminous works of
seventh-/thirteenth-century philosophical mystics such as Ibn ʿArabıˉ,
Harraˉlıˉ (d. 638/1241), Ibn Sabʿıˉn (d. 668/1270), Shushtarıˉ (d. 667/
˙
1269), and Tilimsaˉnıˉ (d. 690/1291). Notably, these figures all settled
and died in the East, and their teachings left an indelible mark on
Islamic thought. With the rise of Sufi biographical compilations in the
Maghrib around the same period, the representatives of the Muʿtabiruˉn
tradition were subsumed under the generic category of “Sufi” and lost
their group identity. Given that the Muʿtabiruˉn self-identified with
a different epistemological category, I refrain from describing them as
4 Introduction

“Sufi,” and instead I employ the term mystic (i.e., one who is interested
in the mysteries of the unseen world) or simply Muʿtabir (singular of
Muʿtabiruˉn).
Thus, the full-fledged “Sufi tradition” of the Muslim West, which arose
as a distinct and institutionalized movement in the seventh/thirteenth
century, was neither imported from the East nor grew steadily out of the
renunciant tradition. Instead, “Sufism” comprised two major branches
that hark back, in the case of al-Andalus, to the early third-/ninth-century
Andalusıˉ Umayyad period. The first is the praxis-oriented, intensely devo-
tional, renunciantory quest for the divine embodied by the renunciant
tradition of Seville, as well as later figures such as Abuˉ Madyan (d. 593/
1197), Shaˉdhilıˉ (d. 656/1258), Jazuˉlıˉ (d. 869/1465), Zarruˉq (d. 898/
1493), and others. This tradition of “juridical Sufism” represents
a continuation of the early renunciant tradition of al-Andalus, with an
added layer of inspiration drawn from Ghazaˉ lıˉ’s teachings in particular,
and the Eastern Arabic Sufi tradition at large.
The second branch of the Western Sufi tradition was more philosophi-
cally inclined and controversial. This trend was – and saw itself as –
a distinctive mystical tradition which evolved parallel to the first and
drew comparatively little inspiration from Ghazaˉ lıˉ and the Eastern
Arabic Sufi tradition. It harks back to the teachings of Ibn Masarra,
which were forced underground periodically between the fourth/tenth to
the fifth/eleventh centuries, then reemerged as a fully developed mystical
philosophy with Ibn Barrajaˉn and his peers in the formative early sixth/
twelfth century, and finally reached their pinnacle with the much more
elaborate writings of Ibn ʿArabıˉ and his likeminded peers in the seventh/
thirteenth century.
In the broadest terms, therefore, appreciating the nuance and complex-
ity of the formative Andalusıˉ period inevitably complicates the historio-
graphy of medieval Islam, which posits a division between periphery
and center: the “Marginal Muslim West” (the Maghrib) and the
“Middle” Eastern heartlands (the Mashriq). Building on previous theore-
tical studies,2 my suggestion is that medieval Islam was polycentric. Al-
Andalus, at least as far as the history of mysticism is concerned, was its
own productive “center” and the flow of mystical teachings between East
and West was thoroughly bidirectional. In other words, Andalusıˉ mysti-
cism was not provincial but rather a world unto itself. Its luminaries drew

2
Bulliet, Islam. P. Nwyia and M. Asín Palacios maintained this position in their writings as
well.
 Ibn Barrajaˉ n at the Forefront of the Tradition 5

just as much from their own local traditions as they did from the works
of Easterners. Far from being an intellectually peripheral site of learning
that passively adopted Eastern influences, the Andalusıˉ mystical tradition
both gave and received. Its intellectual distinctiveness and, one might
even venture to say intellectual autonomy during the sixth/twelfth century
vis-à-vis parallel trends in the Arab East is evidenced by a close reading of
its written output.

ibn barrajān at the forefront of the muʿtabirūn

tradition
By far the most preeminent, influential, and prolific mystic of the forma-
tive period was Ibn Barrajaˉ n of Seville, whose full name was Abuˉ al-
Hakam ʿAbd al-Salaˉ m b. ʿAbd al-Rahmaˉ n b. Abıˉ al-Rijaˉ l Muhammad
˙ ˙ ˙
b. ʿAbd al-Rahmaˉn al-Lakhmıˉ al-Ifrıˉqıˉ al-Ishbıˉ lıˉ (d. 536/1141). He stood
˙
at the forefront of the Muʿtabiruˉn tradition, and marked the culmination
of the sixth-/twelfth-century nexus of a broad range of intellectual under-
currents. He was, by admission of his own contemporaries, the most
prominent, prolific, and senior Andalusıˉ mystic of his day. He even earned
the honorific title “The Ghazaˉlıˉ of al-Andalus” in his own lifetime. This
honorific has often been misread by scholars as a sign of Ibn Barrajaˉn’s
intellectual indebtedness to Ghazaˉlıˉ. In reality, this title simply denotes
that, like his great Persian counterpart, Ibn Barrajaˉn was regarded by his
peers in al-Andalus as the supreme embodiment of the Islamic mystical
ideal combined with law-abiding orthodoxy.
The astounding breadth and depth of Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s knowledge shines
through every page of his works. One of the most remarkable features of his
oeuvre as a whole is his ability to seamlessly assimilate and draw from
various fields of learning to enrich his own teachings. He crafted his vision
of the Qurʾaˉn and Hadıˉth with a broad array of unnamed sources that
˙
formed part and parcel of his inherited worldview. In venturing into other
fields of learning, Ibn Barrajaˉn displayed a high degree of intellectual
independence (that of a “mujtahid,” or independent legal thinker, to use
a juridical term) and was not merely synthesizing other authors’ works.
Notwithstanding differences in emphasis and scholarly approach among
early sixth-/twelfth-century Andalusıˉ mystics, Ibn Barrajaˉn’s influence and
the breadth of his scholarly achievements afford a unique window into the
religious and mystical tendencies of this formative period as a whole.
The bulk of this study will thus be devoted to analyzing and contextualizing
his teachings in relation to his peers and the broader Andalusıˉ context.
6 Introduction

It would be no exaggeration to state that Ibn Barrajaˉn’s entire scholarly

pursuit was driven by a singular purpose: a desire to attain absolute
certainty (yaqıˉ n) of the realities of the hereafter. Ibn Barrajaˉ n sought
to realize the supreme goal and essence of all revealed religion, which he
sometimes called the “Paradise of Certainty” (jannat al-yaqıˉ n) wherein
the realities of the hereafter are concretely experienced in this world.
He taught that the key to reaching this sublime state is to undertake
“the crossing from the visible into the unseen” (al-ʿibra min al-shaˉhid ilaˉ
al-ghaˉ ʾib). That is, the human being can experience a concrete foretaste of
celestial realities of the hereafter by training the intellect, soul, and body to
traverse from the visible dimension of existence to the unseen world. Ibn
Barrajaˉn praised those who acquired this empirical knowledge of the
self as Muʿtabiruˉn, literally, “Undertakers of the Crossing,” or simply
“Contemplators.”
Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s epistemology of certainty occupies the bulk of his
writings. He promoted iʿtibaˉ r as a means of both undercutting and
broadening the religious polemics of his day. For him, this contemplative
ascent was a way of out the endless legalistic particularisms of Maˉ likıˉ
jurists; the “chains of transmission” or isnaˉ d-centered epistemology of
Hadıˉ th scholars; the anti-intellectualism promoted by al-Muraˉ bituˉ n
˙ ˙
theological literalists; the excessive transcendentalism of Ashʿarıˉ theo-
logians; the far-fetched abstractions of the Aristotelian philosophers; as
well as perceived esoterist (baˉ t inıˉ ) deviations of Faˉ t imıˉ Ismaˉ ʿıˉ lıˉ s who
˙ ˙
trumped the divine law.
However, while Ibn Barrajaˉ n was hailed as the “Ghazaˉ lıˉ of al-
Andalus,” he and his namesake differ tremendously in approach and
output. In sharp contrast to Ghazaˉ lıˉ , who mastered philosophy (falsafa),
theology (kalaˉ m), jurisprudence (fiqh), and other Islamic sciences with
an eye to engaging each discipline at its own level and buttressing his
spiritualizing vision of Islam, Ibn Barrajaˉ n had little interest in proving
his mastery of the formal intellectual and religious sciences. While he
wielded a certain command of these fields of learning, Ibn Barrajaˉ n never
sought to directly confront nor engage in what he perceived as futile
juridical, theological, or philosophical arguments. Characteristically, he
perceived all branches of learning, including the transmitted (naqlıˉ ) and
intellectual (ʿaqlıˉ ) sciences of Islam, as well as other bodies of knowledge
such as medicine, and speculations about cycles of time and deter-
mination (dawaˉ ʾir al-taqdıˉ r), as points of ascension into the unseen.
In his last work, he summarized his epistemology of certainty in
statements such as:
 Ibn Barrajaˉ n at the Forefront of the Tradition 7

The path is one, the way straight, the calling one. Those who are called upon are
many: some are called from nearby (Q. 50:41), others from afar. And God prevails
over His affair!3

For Ibn Barrajaˉn, undertaking the ʿibra was an all-consuming quest

for the divine in everything. It was an act that surpassed conventional faith
in the hereafter. He reminded his readers that the Arabic word for faith
(ıˉ maˉ n) itself entails a conviction and certainty (amn) that goes beyond
abstract belief. That is, the supreme goal of religion is a concrete realiza-
tion of the presence of higher realities in this world, as seen through God’s
signs (aˉyaˉ t Allaˉ h) in the cosmos, the Qurʾaˉn, and in the human being. For
the true Muʿtabir, realities of the hereafter are concretely experienced in
this life. For instance, Ibn Barrajaˉ n insisted that the idea of traversing the
thin bridge over hell (siraˉ t ) on Judgment Day should be experienced here
˙ ˙
and now, for the believer builds his bridge by his actions and spiritual
states. Or again, quenching one’s thirst at the Prophet’s Pond (hawd) can
˙ ˙
be done in the herebelow by clinging to the guidance of revelation, and the
sweetness of the beatific vision (al-ruʾya al-karıˉ ma) is anticipated by God’s
exclusive signs in the world, like sun and moon. Thus, Ibn Barrajaˉ n saw
God’s associative signs in the universe, revelation, and man as open
passageways into the next world which are accessible to every believer,
provided he or she has mastered the art of deciphering the grace (baraka)
and wisdom (hikma) behind them.
˙
Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s writings, which have been largely passed over in silence
by modern scholars, or even dismissed as the derivative and preliminary
thoughts of a secondary figure, deserve to be studied closely. At first
glance, his oeuvre appears to be a work-in-progress, a loosely drafted
stream of reflections, lacking the richness of Ibn ʿArabıˉ’s expositions and
the clarity of Ghazaˉlıˉ’s “Revival of the Religious Sciences” (Ihyaˉʾ ʿuluˉ m
˙
al-dıˉ n). Indeed, many scholars have made this point. A closer look at his
ideas, however, reveal an outstanding, internally coherent, and original
thinker who challenged the predominant religious discourse of his day,
and whose unique hermeneutics and cosmological vision were absorbed
by later codifiers of the Philosophical-Sufi tradition. But the richness,
eclecticism, and subtlety of Ibn Barrajaˉn’s teachings are easily overlooked
by the hasty reader for two reasons. First, he usually dictated his works
orally and quite unsystematically. Second, he never cited his sources or
named his intellectual opponents. Ibn Barrajaˉ n perhaps felt compelled by
the intellectually rigid sixth-/twelfth-century Maˉ likıˉ milieu to write with

3
Ibn Barrajaˉn, Īdaˉh al-hikma, eds. Böwering and Casewit, ¶910.
˙ ˙ ˙
8 Introduction

cautionary discretion and to conceal his intellectual affiliations and

agenda. Moreover, he wanted his writings to appeal to a broad reader-
ship. Thus, names of his teachers and sources are deliberately omitted; his
criticisms of other figures and groups are usually expressed in the third
person; and he avoided terminological markers from works of Sufism,
theology (kalaˉm), the Brethren of Purity, and Ismaˉ ʿıˉ lıˉ writings. Rather
than locating himself within a particular school of thought, he found
reference for his ideas in Qurʾaˉnic verses, Hadıˉth, Biblical passages, and
˙
sayings of the Companions, and expressed them in ad hoc fashion.

literature review
Scholars of Islamic thought of the Iberian Peninsula have yet to develop
a clear understanding of Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s worldview for the simple reason
that his works have up to recent years remained scattered in manuscript
libraries.4 Fortunately, a number of Arabic text editions of Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s
works began to appear just as this current study was being prepared.
The main thrust of secondary literature on Ibn Barrajaˉ n remains biogra-
phical. These newer scholarly inquiries, most recently by Bellver and
Küçük, have refined our understanding of the important status which
Ibn Barrajaˉn enjoyed among his contemporaries in sixth-/twelfth-century
al-Andalus, as well as his role in shaping and disseminating mysticism in
the region. However, such scholarly inquiries are noticeably dependent
upon the patchy and often-conflicting data furnished by the medieval
biographical sources. Ibn Barrajaˉn’s own works have yet to be analyzed
as a whole. The over-dependence on biographical literature is problematic
because the image of mysticism portrayed by biographers such as Ibn
Bashkuwaˉl (d. 578/1183) and Ibn al-Abbaˉr (d. 638/1260) during the
fifth to seventh-/eleventh to thirteenth-centuries in which Ibn Barrajaˉn
lived do not accurately reflect the actual unfolding of this tradition at the
time.5 That is, the biographers distorted Ibn Barrajaˉn’s self-understanding
of his own place within the Islamic tradition.6
Aside from biographical studies, many researchers who have dealt with
Ibn Barrajaˉn’s thought have tendered largely unsubstantiated conjectures
based on a very brief perusal of his works, or on contextual inferences

4
See the bibliography of this book for an overview of the excellent extant manuscript
tradition of Ibn Barrajaˉn.
5
Urvoy, Le monde des ulémas Andalous, pp. 60, 63, 69, 73, 76, 79, 107,108, 119, et seq.
6
See Chapters 2 and 3.
 Overview of Chapters 9

from studies of his contemporaries, Ibn al-ʿArıˉf and Ibn Qasıˉ, and the
history of the al-Muraˉ bituˉn persecutions of mystics and theologians dur-
˙
ing the sixth/twelfth century. Asín Palacios, who first intuited that Ibn
Barrajaˉn was influenced by the doctrines of Ibn Masarra, was remarkably
accurate in his assessment but was unable to substantiate his claim tex-
tually. In the wake of Asín Palacios, scholars like Gharmıˉnıˉ, Faure, Bell,
and most recently Küçük echoed Goldziher’s narrative, which portrays
Ibn Barrajaˉ n as a receiver and propagator of Ghazaˉlıˉ’s ideas in al-
Andalus.7 Others, in particular Gril and Bellver, have advanced our
understanding of our author on his own grounds, but they have yet to
take Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s works and teachings into account as a whole.
Aside from important and commendable editorial groundwork
undertaken by Arab researchers, scholarship on Ibn Barrajaˉ n in Arabic
secondary literature is generally poor and entangled in modern Atharıˉ /
Salafıˉ versus Ashʿarıˉ /Sufi polemics. Arab authors who have written
about Ibn Barrajaˉ n and the spread of Ashʿarism in the Maghrib, such
as al-Qaˉ rıˉ , Ihnaˉ na, and Hosni, have provided very informative insights
˙
on the period in general, and on Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s biography and Qurʾaˉ nic
hermeneutics in particular. However, these studies are guided by
a prescriptive analysis of the tradition and are hampered by an unrelent-
ing anachronistic attempt at reassuring the reader that Ibn Barrajaˉ n was
an orthodox Sunnıˉ (Ahl al-sunna wa-l-jamaˉ ʿa) however defined by the
modern author.

overview of chapters
Chapter 1 analyzes the complex and multilayered factors that set Andalusıˉ
mysticism in motion from the early third/ninth century to the sixth/twelfth
century. These include the longstanding and popular Andalusıˉ tradition
of renunciation; the early mysticophilosophical school of Ibn Masarra
(d. 319/931) which had an enduring influence in later periods; the absorp-
tion of the broader body of Sunnıˉ Hadıˉth and legal theory (usuˉ l al-fiqh)
˙ ˙
during the Umayyad and Taˉʾifa period; polarizing epistemological rival-
˙
ries over the miracles of saints (karaˉ maˉ t al-awliyaˉʾ) and the legitimacy
of mystics’ claims to esoteric knowledge by means of inner purification;
and the burning of Ghazaˉlıˉ’s monumental “Revival of the Religious
Sciences” (Ihyaˉ ʾ ʿuluˉ m al-dıˉ n).
˙
7
EI2, “Ibn al-‘Arıˉf,” “Ibn Barradjaˉn,” and “Ibn Kasıˉ” (A. Faure); Gharmıˉ nıˉ, al-Madaˉris al-
˙
suˉ fiyya, p. 193; Bel, “Le Sufisme.”
˙
10 Introduction

Chapter 2 intervenes in the historiography of al-Andalus by challen-

ging long-held assumptions about Ibn Barrajaˉn and his peers’ intellectual
indebtedness to Ghazaˉlıˉ in the early sixth/twelfth century and by positing
the existence of a self-consciously distinctive Muʿtabiruˉn mystical
tradition with pronounced cosmological and occult leanings. This chapter
demonstrates, based on the contents and chronology of Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s
works, that Ibn Barrajaˉ n was already an established author and a respected
mystic before Ghazaˉlıˉ’s writings were even introduced into al-Andalus.
Ghazaˉlıˉ’s influence on Ibn al-ʿArıˉf and Ibn Qasıˉ is also negligible, as
evidenced by a close analysis of their life and writings. I argue that the
transition to institutionalized “Sufism” in al-Andalus and North Africa thus
took place approximately fifty years after the death of Ibn Barrajaˉ n and
his peers, that is, at the turn of the sixth/twelfth to seventh/thirteenth
century. This transition from an indigenous Andalusıˉ mystical tradition –
the Muʿtabiruˉn – to an institutionalized pan-Sunnıˉ tarıˉ qa Sufism was
˙
cemented by the self-consciously Sufi tarıˉ qa movement of Abuˉ Madyan as
˙
well as the North African Sufi hagiographers like Taˉdilıˉ’s (d. 627/1230–1)
Tashawwuf ilaˉ rijaˉl ahl al-tasawwuf.
˙
Building on and supplementing previous biographical examinations
of Ibn Barrajaˉ n, Chapter 3 analyzes Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s life and works based
upon not only the medieval biographies but also his own multivolume
written corpus. Of special significance are Ibn Barrajaˉn’s early years,
ancestral origins, formative education, the implications of his misunder-
stood epithet “Ghazaˉ lıˉ of al-Andalus,” his retreat from the city of Seville,
and the scholarly output of his students. This chapter also features
a discussion of Ibn Barrajaˉn’s political views on Muslim rulership, end-
times, his summoning to Marrakesh for trial, and the obscure circum-
stances surrounding his incarceration and death.
For such a major figure in Islamic thought, it is surprising that the
exact number, sequence, contents, and titles of Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s works are
a source of confusion in a large number of medieval and modern sources,
which Chapter 4 explores. Ibn Barrajaˉ n articulated his teachings in
four main works, of which only three have survived in full. The first,
“The Guidebook to the Paths of Guidance” (al-Irshaˉd ilaˉ subul al-rashaˉd),
survives only partially in the Mamluˉk scholar Zarkashıˉ’s Burhaˉ n
and appears to be somewhat different in tone from his later works.
The Irshaˉ d seeks to demonstrate the concordance or mutual overlap
(muʿaˉ dada) between the Qurʾaˉn and the Sunna by showing how each of
˙
the ahaˉdıˉth narrated by Muslim in his Sahˉı h align in meaning with the
˙ ˙ ˙ ˙
Qurʾaˉ n. Ibn Barrajaˉn’s second work, “A Commentary on the Beautiful
 Overview of Chapters 11

Names of God” (Sharh asmaˉ Allaˉh al-husnaˉ), is a voluminous commen-

˙ ˙
tary on the divine names. Each of the names receives a linguistic explana-
tion, followed by a doctrinal analysis guided by the ubiquitous principle
of ʿibra, and finally a practical word of spiritual advice (taʿabbud, lit.
practice of servanthood) in light of the divine name. The Sharh was
˙
enormously influential in al-Andalus and set the trend for a number of
subsequent commentaries by other authors. The third work, “Alerting
Intellects to Meditation on the Wise Book and Recognition of the Signs
and the Tremendous Tiding [of Judgment Day]” (Tanbıˉ h al-afhaˉm ilaˉ
tadabbur al-kitaˉb al-hakıˉ m wa-taʿarruf al-aˉyaˉt wa-l-nabaʾ al-ʿazˉım) is Ibn
˙ ˙
Barrajaˉn’s major commentary, which was supplemented by his final
work, “Wisdom Deciphered, the Unseen Discovered” (Īdaˉh al-hikma bi-
˙ ˙
ahkaˉ m al-ʿibra, lit. “Deciphering Wisdom Through the Properties of the
˙
Crossing”). These two commentaries consist of Ibn Barrajaˉn’s free-
flowing reflections on the divine Word. Remarkably, his entire body of
surviving writings features very little doctrinal evolution, and can (or
should) be read from beginning to end as a compositional whole.
Chapters 5, 6, 7, and 8 respectively address Ibn Barrajaˉn’s cosmology,
Qurʾaˉnic hermeneutics, usage of the Bible as doctrinal proof-text, and his
conception of cyclical time and divine decree. Chapter 4 lies at the heart of
this book since his cosmological doctrines profoundly shape his approach
to the Qurʾaˉn and spiritual practices. Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s cosmological doctrines,
moreover, foreground Ibn ʿArabıˉ’s worldview to a remarkable degree and
mark one of the earliest extensive engagements with the Neoplatonizing
teachings of the Brethren of Purity in Sunnıˉ mysticism. This chapter begins
with an analysis of the idea of the Universal Servant (al-ʿabd al-kullıˉ ), from
which everything in existence unfolds. The Universal Servant, which antici-
pates Ibn ʿArabıˉ’s doctrine of the Perfect Man (al-insaˉn al-kaˉmil), is an all-
comprehensive reality that is neither divine nor part of creation. The world
and man derive their form (suˉ ra) and existence (wujuˉ d) from the reality of
˙
the Universal Servant. Since the Universal Servant is also equated with the
symbolism of the Preserved Tablet (al-lawh al-mahfuˉ z), it also stands as
˙ ˙ ˙
the source of divine revelation. From the Universal Servant comes Ibn
Barrajaˉ n’s principle of associative correspondence between the universe as
a composite whole, man as an individual, and the Qurʾaˉ n as a sonoral
revelation.
This chapter also examines Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s famous concept of
“The Reality Upon Which Creation Is Created” (al-haqq al-makhluˉ q
˙
bihi al-khalq, HMBK), which marks the sum-total of God’s presence in
˙
the world through His signs (aˉyaˉ t) and traces (aˉ thaˉ r). HMBK anticipates
˙
12 Introduction

God’s full disclosure on Judgment Day, which he refers to as “The Clear

Reality” (al-haqq al-mubıˉ n) and as “The Real to Whom Is the Return”
˙
(al-haqq alladhıˉ ilayhi al-masˉı r). Following the doctrine of HMBK, I turn
˙ ˙ ˙
to Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s ontology, which stresses the hierarchical multilayered-
ness and fundamental oneness of existence (wujuˉ d). Ibn Barrajaˉn anchors
his ontology by drawing on Qurʾaˉ nic references to the “hidden object”
(khabʾ) of existence which reveals itself in the hereafter, as well as in the
Hadıˉth-inspired notion of the “Two Breaths” (al-fayhaˉ n) of heaven and
˙ ˙
hell from which the spring’s cool breezes and summer’s heat waves issue.
Occasionally, Ibn Barrajaˉn resorts to philosophical discussions of
Imaginal existence (al-wujuˉ d al-mithaˉ lıˉ ) to explain the continuous nature
of existence in a world of becoming and decay. These discussions antici-
pate the notion of Imaginal existence (al-wujuˉ d al-khayaˉlıˉ ) in later Sufi-
Philosophical works. Finally, I examine Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s discussions of the
signs of God (aˉyaˉ t Allaˉ h), and especially sun, moon, and water, which
present open passageways into the unseen world for the believer to
behold.
Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s major Qurʾaˉn commentary is one of the most important
exegetical works produced in the Muslim West, which I examine in
Chapter 6. It differs markedly in approach, organizational pattern, and
doctrinal orientation from previous tafsıˉrs in the region. He advocated an
unprecedented hermeneutic of total immersion into the universe of the
Qurʾaˉ n and signs in nature, and his approach to interpreting the Qurʾaˉn is
remarkably aligned with his cosmology. Virtually all of his Qurʾaˉ nic
technical terms, exegetical opinions, and hermeneutical doctrines are
anchored in a literal reading of the Qurʾaˉn, are worked out within his
cosmological scheme, and expressed in the language of differentiation
(tafsıˉ l) and nondifferentiation (ijmaˉ l). Ibn Barrajaˉ n goes squarely against
the Sunnıˉ tafsıˉr tradition in almost each of his main hermeneutical
doctrines.
This chapter is built around three parts that define Ibn Barrajaˉn’s
hermeneutics, namely harmony, hierarchy, and hegemony of the
Qurʾaˉ n. Section I examines Ibn Barrajaˉn’s vision of the Qurʾaˉ n as
a harmonious, coherent, and unambiguous text. Ibn Barrajaˉn rejects any
notion of Qurʾaˉnic ambiguity (ishtibaˉ h) and proclaims that ambiguity lies
in the eye of the reader, not in revelation. Consequently, his approach to
the Qurʾaˉ n is governed by the principle of nazm, that is, the compositional
˙
harmony and structural orderliness of the Qurʾaˉn. His engagement with
this theme also marks one of the earliest extensive engagements by
a Qurʾaˉ nic exegete with this topic. Ibn Barrajaˉ n stressed the doctrine of
 Overview of Chapters 13

nazm in his writings since he saw the Qurʾaˉn and the universe as two
˙
copies of each other: two complementary beings (wujuˉ daˉ n). In his vision
of things, the Two Beings derive their respective forms from the Universal
Servant (al-ʿabd al-kullıˉ ). Thus Ibn Barrajaˉ n believed that every Qurʾaˉ nic
verse (aˉ ya) is divinely placed in the revealed book for a specific purpose,
just as every particle of creation is placed with a purpose in creation and
reflects God in a specific way. The doctrine of nazm has many conse-
˙
quences for Ibn Barrajaˉn’s Qurʾaˉnic hermeneutics. He held each of the
Qurʾaˉnic suˉras to be structured around a specific theme. Ibn Barrajaˉn was
also a staunch opponent of the doctrine abrogation (naskh) of Qurʾaˉ nic
verses by others. He reasoned that since every verse of the Qurʾaˉ n is
located in a specific position by God, two verses can only abrogate one
another if the abrogated (mansuˉ kh) verse is followed by an adjacent
abrogating (naˉ sikh) verse.
Section II analyses Ibn Barrajaˉn’s conception of the Qurʾaˉ n as
a multilayered revelation, which contains both verses that are “all-
encompassing” (mujmal) and others that are “differentiated” (mufassal).
˙˙
Ibn Barrajaˉ n conceived of the Qurʾaˉ n as containing two layers. The first,
which he called the Supreme Qurʾaˉn (al-qurʾaˉn al-ʿazˉı m), comprises the
˙
holistic, or all-comprehensive (mujmal), verses that engulf the entire
meaning of the revelation. From the Supreme Qurʾaˉ n emerge the differ-
entiated verses (aˉ yaˉt mufassala), which Ibn Barrajaˉ n identified as the
˙˙
Exalted Qurʾaˉn (al-qurʾaˉn al-ʿazıˉ z). Moreover, certain suˉras, like 1 and
2, are also held by Ibn Barrajaˉn to embrace the Qurʾaˉn’s message as
a whole. Ibn Barrajaˉn defines the so-called muhkamaˉt and mutashaˉ bihaˉ t
˙
verses not as “clear” or “unambiguous” verses in contrast to the “ambig-
uous” verses. Rejecting any ambiguity, he identifies the former as “com-
pact/fixed” (muhkam) verses that are sunk in the Preserved Tablet, like
˙
roots sunk in the soil of nonmanifestation. The mutashaˉ bihaˉ t verses, for
their part, are mutually resembling, or “consimilar” (rather than con-
fused), verses and constitute the bulk of the revelation.
Section III examines the primacy of the Qurʾaˉ n in Ibn Barrajaˉn’s
scholarly approach. Ibn Barrajaˉ n saw the Qurʾaˉn as the yardstick against
which all other bodies of knowledge, from weak Hadıˉ th to Biblical
˙
material, are to be assessed. This hermeneutical principle is expansive,
since it allows for the author to integrate any wisdom literature that he
deems to complement the Qurʾaˉ n: it is never used to exclude texts from his
interpretive framework. This section thus examines Ibn Barrajaˉn’s use of
the Qurʾaˉn to explain itself, as well as his use of weak Hadıˉth to shed
˙
light on Qurʾaˉnic teachings.
14 Introduction

Ibn Barrajaˉ n was surprisingly liberal in his usage of Biblical material

to bolster his Qurʾaˉ nic and mystical teachings, as shown in Chapter 7.
He drew primarily from Genesis and the Book of Matthew, quoting
Biblical passages on par with Hadıˉth. This chapter explores the various
˙
techniques he used to reconcile perceived scriptural incongruities, and
offers a comparison between Ibn Barrajaˉ n and Ibn Hazm’s (d. 456/
˙
1064) engagement with the Bible.
The final chapter sheds light on the author’s understanding of iʿtibaˉr,
cycles of time, the divine command, and future predictions, which are
a direct application of his cosmological and hermeneutical teachings.
I examine the central idea of iʿtibaˉr, the “crossing” into the invisible
realm, with a comparison to Ibn Masarra’s iʿtibaˉr. The crossing is at once
an intellectual act of contemplating the heavens with the eye of correspon-
dence, as well as a spiritual practice of anticipating the realities of the
hereafter through their presence in this world.
The ʿibra in Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s works has far-reaching consequences. If it
is possible to have access to the unseen realities of the hereafter, he
reasons that the lines of demarcation that separate the visible from the
unseen are much less rigid than they appear. Ibn Barrajaˉ n pushes the
boundaries of the unseen, arguing that the unseen world (ʿaˉ lam al-
ghayb) is a relative category. Most radically, he advocates for the per-
missibility of peering into the future. This chapter ends with an analysis
of Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s famous Jerusalem prediction, in which he accurately
prognosticates the Muslim recapture of Jerusalem from the Crusaders in
the year 583/1187 by applying his understanding of the cyclical nature of
time and divine determination (dawaˉ ʾir al-taqdıˉ r) to the opening verses
of suˉra 30 (Ruˉm).

the historical context: the rise and demise

of the al-murābit ūn dynasty
˙
The life of Ibn Barrajaˉ n and his peers span approximately from mid-fifth
/eleventh century to the early sixth/twelfth century, paralleling
closely the historical rise and demise of the al-Muraˉ bit uˉ n regime
˙
(r. 454–541/1062–1147). The writings, life circumstances, and political
views of these figures were molded by the ethnically stratified, econom-
ically challenged, and tension-ridden society of al-Andalus. Therefore
a brief historical survey is indispensable here, in anticipation of
Chapters 1–2, which examine the rise of these figures to prominence
in al-Andalus.
 The Historical Context 15

The story of the al-Muraˉ bituˉ n is intimately linked to the so-called

˙
t aˉ ʾifa period when al-Andalus broke up into dozens of competing regio-
˙
nal principalities (muluˉ k al-t awaˉ ʾif ). The t aˉ ʾifa kings rose to power after
˙ ˙
the collapse of the illustrious Umayyad Caliphate, a regime that had
asserted control over large segments of the Iberian Peninsula from the
mid-second/eighth century to fifth/eleventh century. The forces which
gave rise to the t aˉ ʾifas were diverse. In many cases, t aˉ ʾifas were founded
˙ ˙
by community leaders with recognized social influence, or by former
members of the civil and military structures of Umayyad authority, and
sometimes even opportunistic governors or judges (sing. qaˉ d ˉı ) driven by
˙
personal ambition. Typically, it was the leading members of long-
established aristocratic families with strong ties to the Umayyad dynasty
who stepped in to fill the political vacuum.8 One of the most important
of these families were the Banuˉ ʿAbbaˉ d, who claimed Seville as their
capital. The t aˉ ʾifa of Seville provided refuge for Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s North
˙
African Lakhmıˉ grandfather, and it is here that our author grew up.
The t aˉ ʾifa of Seville was founded by Muhammad b. Ismaˉ ʿıˉ l ʿAbbaˉ d (d.
˙ ˙
433/1041), a judge (qaˉ d ıˉ ) who assumed political leadership and estab-
˙
lished himself as ruler of the Banuˉ ʿAbbaˉ d. As a Lakhmıˉ Arab, his clan
wielded both political and religious supremacy in Seville up to the al-
Muraˉ bituˉn conquest. The cohesive and centralized polity which he
˙
founded enjoyed an agrarian economy which surpassed the maritime
economies of the coastal cities. By the fifth/eleventh century, the Banuˉ
ʿAbbaˉ d came close to annexing the entire southwestern regions of al-
Andalus.9
The t aˉʾifas represented a fragmented prolongation of Umayyad
˙
authority rather than a new model of political authority. In the absence
of a unifying caliph, the emirs assumed authoritative titles and symbols,
oversaw the continuation of important socioeconomic institutions, and
patronized the outstanding scholarly and artistic achievements of the fifth/
eleventh century.10 At the same time, the t aˉ ʾifas were also internally
˙
divisive and often found themselves militarily, economically, politically,
and ideologically threatened by the northern and northwestern Christian

8
For a careful analysis of the forces that gave rise to the t aˉʾifas, see F. Clément, Pouvoir et
˙
lé gitimité , pp. 203–224.
9
See Guichard and Soravia, Les royaumes de Taifas, pp. 72–78 for more on the expansion of
the ʿAbbaˉ did taˉʾifa in southern al-Andalus; and pp. 196–207 for an analysis of the armies of
˙
Seville, its composition, expansionism, power, and use of non-Arab mercenaries.
10
Clément, Pouvoir et lé gitimité , pp. 305–307.
16 Introduction

kingdoms of Aragon and Castile.11 The t aˉ ʾifas’ imposition of noncanoni-

˙
cal taxes (maghaˉ rim) on their disgruntled subjects to fund northern
military campaigns (jihaˉd) or to pay annual tributes (Sp. parias) to
Christian rulers enraged religious scholars and tax-paying commoners
alike. Meanwhile, the Christian Reconquista of the Peninsula was in full
swing. In 477/1085, Toledo, the ancient capital of the Visigoths at the
heart of Iberia, fell to King Alfonso VI. This defeat was symbolically,
psychologically, and militarily devastating and rendered the t aˉʾifas ever
˙
more vulnerable to attack.12 The fall of Toledo was a rude awakening that
reminded Andalusıˉ s of their urgent need for a strong central authority.
It is in this context that the powerful al-Muraˉbituˉn were summoned to
˙
al-Andalus by both jurists and t aˉ ʾifa rulers.13
˙
The t aˉ ʾifas were failed states because they were unable to fill the power
˙
vacuum which resulted from the collapse of the Umayyad Caliphate.
The Umayyads came to represent a yardstick of measurement for the
political failures and successes of every Muslim regime that attempted to
control al-Andalus. Only they were able to assert religiopolitical supre-
macy over the tension-ridden tribal society of Umayyad Spain, garnering
enough authority to pose as Caliphs (khalıˉ fa) of all Muslims in the fourth/
tenth century on par with the ʿAbbaˉ sids and Faˉ timids. The Umayyad
˙
downfall left a profound political vacuum known as the “imaˉmate crisis,”
which was expressed not only in the very structure of the t aˉ ʾifas, but also
˙
in tempestuous political debates over the qualifications and candidacy for
Muslim leadership (imaˉma). This crisis of authority outlasted the t aˉ ʾifas
˙
themselves, and beset Andalusıˉ and North African regimes and scholars
for centuries.14
Numerous unworkable solutions were tendered in the t aˉ ʾifa period.
˙
The powerful Banuˉ ʿAbbaˉ d in Seville where Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s family settled,
for instance, retained a fictional association with the phony Umayyad
Caliph Hishaˉ m II al-Muʾayyad whom they themselves drummed up.15
At the same time, the Banuˉ Hammuˉd, a prominent ruling family in
˙
Malaga with claims to a noble Idrıˉ sıˉ lineage stretching back to the
Prophet Muhammad, asserted themselves as possessors of caliphal
˙

11
Guichard and Soravia, Les royaumes de Taifas pp. 107–112 for pressure on the
t aˉʾifas from the Christian north.
12 ˙
Makki, “The political history of al-Andalus,”, p. 61.
13
EI2, “Muluˉk al-Tawaˉ ʾif,” (M. Morony and D. Wasserstein).
14
Fierro, “The qaˉd˙ ˉı as ruler,” p. 87.
15 ˙
Guichard and Soravia, Les royaumes de Taifas, p. 29.
 The Historical Context 17

authority.16 Various regional kings also boasted increasingly grandiose

titles of rulership.17 When the al-Muraˉ bit uˉn emirs rose to power, they
˙
adopted the compromise title of Commander of Muslims (instead of
the caliphal title Commander of Believers, amıˉ r al-muʾminıˉ n, which
was reserved for the ʿAbbaˉ sids), upheld a nominal allegiance to the
ʿAbbaˉ sıˉ Caliph in Baghdaˉ d, and bolstered their own religious legitimacy
by sponsoring Maˉ likıˉ jurists.
Andalusıˉ scholars were in equal disagreement as to how the author-
ity crisis could be resolved. The Zaˉ hirıˉ scholar Ibn Hazm (d. 456/1064),
˙ ˙
for instance, served as vizier to two pretenders in Valencia and
Cordoba, for he was convinced that the caliph had to be Arab,
Qurayshıˉ , Umayyad, anti-Shıˉ ʿıˉ , devoted to the service of God, and
a non-ally of Christians and Jews, especially with regard to their incor-
poration into governmental positions.18 The Maˉ likıˉ jurist Abuˉ al-Walıˉ d
al-Baˉ jıˉ (d. 474/1081), for his part, held that an unjust sultan was
preferable to political disunity and civil strife (fitna).19 Radical millen-
arianists like Ibn Qasıˉ revolted against the ruling power and proclaimed
themselves as Mahdıˉ . The renunciant and mystic Ismaˉ ʿıˉ l al-Ruʿaynıˉ
(d. 432/1040), for his part, collected the alms (zakaˉ t) from his commu-
nity of followers, whereas Abuˉ ʿUmar al-Talamankıˉ (d. 429/1037) and
˙
Ibn Barrajaˉ n proclaimed that virtue and moral excellence (fad ıˉ la), not
˙
genealogical lineage, should be the criteria for choosing an imaˉ m of the
20
community.
It is in this shaky context that the al-Muraˉ bit uˉn were summoned to
˙
Spain. A Sanhaˉ ja Berber dynasty that burst out of the deep southern
˙
Saharan stretches of present-day Mauritania, Mali, and Río de Oro (al-
saˉ qiya al-hamraˉ ʾ), they conquered first the Maghrib and established
˙
their capital in Marrakesh. As they gained ground in North Africa,
the beleaguered t aˉ ʾifa ruler of Badajoz ʿUmar al-Mutawakkil b. al-
˙
Aftas summoned the military forces of the emir Yuˉsuf b. Taˉ shufıˉ n
˙
(r. 453–500/1061–1107) to al-Andalus to halt the increasingly militant
attacks of Alfonso VI. Appeals of enlistment were also addressed to the
al-Muraˉ bit uˉ n by al-Muʿtamid b. ʿAbbaˉ d of Seville and Ibn Buluqqıˉ n
˙

16
For a recent and concise study that sheds light on the political and caliphal claims of the
Hammuˉdıˉ rulers on the basis of numismatic evidence, see Rosado Llamas’ La dinastí a
˙
Hammudí.
17
Fierro, “The qaˉdˉı as ruler,” pp. 104–105.
18
Fierro, “Unidad˙ religiosa,” p. 400. For a study of medieval scholarly debates over the
employment of non-Muslim state officials, see Yarbrough, “Islamizing the Islamic State.”
19 20
Fierro, “Unidad religiosa,” p. 399. Fierro, “The qaˉdˉı as ruler,” p. 104–105.
˙
18 Introduction

(r. 465–482/1073–1090) of Granada.21 After consulting with jurists

of Fez,22 Yuˉ suf’s Sanhaˉ ja forces overwhelmed Alfonso VI’s Castilian
˙
troops in a northbound push and defeated them at the battle of Sagrajas
(Zallaˉ qa) in 478/1086. They recovered Lisbon and Santarem, put an end
to the paria tribute taxes, then returned to Marrakesh.23 But things soon
got worse. Once again, Andalusıˉ scholars and the general populace grew
weary of the taˉ ʾifas’ petty factionalism and their inability to halt
Christian advancement, and sent letters of appeal to Marrakesh pleading
for a second intervention.24 In 483/1090, the illustrious emir sought to
put an end to the continual disputes of the t aˉ ʾifas and their concessions
˙
with the Christian monarchs. Backed yet again by a fatwa which not
only permitted but obliged emir Yuˉsuf to invade the dissolute, paria-
paying regional tyrants, he proceeded to dethrone every t aˉ ʾifa and
˙
established Cordoba as capital of his Andalusıˉ protectorate.25
The al-Muraˉbituˉn annexation of al-Andalus was welcomed by locals.
˙
It was carried out in collaboration with the clerical class on both sides of
the Straits. The pragmatic Andalusıˉ judges (sing. qaˉ dˉı ) generally favored
˙
a strong, religiously rigorous central authority,26 and turned against their
weakened patrons in support of the foreign North African intervention.27

21
Urvoy, Pensers d’Al-Andalus, p. 16.
22
Ibn Khalduˉn, Histoire des Berbères, II, pp. 77–78; See also Naˉsirıˉ, Istiqsaˉ ʾ, II, pp. 30–50.
23 ˙ ˙
EI2, “Muluˉk al-Tawaˉʾif,” (M. Morony & D. Wasserstein).
24 ˙
Ibn Buluqqıˉn, Mudhakkiraˉt, pp. 125–127. See also Saʿıˉd Aʿraˉb, Maʿa al-Qaˉdˉı , p. 11.
25
The takeover was rapid in some areas, gradual in others. It began with Granada, ˙ Almería
and Seville in 484/1091. The Banuˉ Huˉd of Sargossa resisted the al-Muraˉbituˉn until 504/
˙
1110 but fell to the Christians within eight years. Valencia, which had been seized by the
Cid in 478/1085 was captured by the emir in 495/1102. Badajoz was last to fall to the al-
Muraˉbituˉn. Only Muhammad b. Ghaniyya and his dynasty, the Banuˉ Ghaniyya,
˙ ˙
remained in power in the Balearic Islands until the late sixth/twelfth century.
26
In comparison with the Umayyad Caliphal period, the Maˉlikıˉ judges were arguably less
powerful in the t aˉʾifa period. They enjoyed great prominence and authority under the
˙
Umayyads, especially from the mid-fourth/tenth century onward when ʿAbd al-Rahmaˉ n
˙
III proclaimed himself caliph in 316/929 in opposition to the Faˉtimıˉ (r. 296/
˙
909–566/1171) and the Abbaˉ sıˉ caliphates. This bold political proclamation by ʿAbd al-
Rahmaˉn III brought with it closer alliance with the Maˉlikıˉ fuqahaˉʾ. With the disintegra-
˙
tion of centralized authority, the loyalty of the delegated judges to the divisive t aˉʾifa rulers
˙
was one of expedience. See Monès, “Le role des hommes de religion,” pp. 47–88.
27
In Granada for instance, Ibn Qulayʿıˉ (d. 498/1104) and Ibn Sahl (d. 486/1093) pledged
allegiance to the al-Muraˉbituˉn, sided against their t aˉ’ifa king Ibn Buluqqıˉn, and joined
˙ ˙
forces with the Sevillan jurist Abuˉ Qaˉsim al-Hawzaˉnıˉ (d. 512/1118) in the conquest of the
Granadan t aˉ’ifa. (Ibn Buluqqıˉ n, Mudhakkaraˉt, pp. 125–127. See also Saʿıˉd Aʿraˉb, Maʿa
˙
al-Qaˉdˉı , p. 11.) Similarly, Ibn al-Ahsan was instrumental in the establishment of the al-
˙ ˙
Muraˉbituˉn in his city of Badajoz. (El Hour, “The al-Andalus qaˉdˉı,” p. 79.) El Hour, ibid,
˙ ˙
p. 80, speculates that the al-Muraˉbituˉn takeover of al-Andalus in concert with the jurists
˙
 The Historical Context 19

The desert monarchs held sway over their Andalusıˉ protectorate from
the second-half of the fifth/eleventh century to the first-half of the sixth/
twelfth century, and were overthrown by the al-Muwahhiduˉn revolution-
˙˙
aries in 539/1145, only three years after Ibn Barrajaˉn’s death. Their
position in al-Andalus was validated by their military strength and reli-
gious rigor. This meant that they were expected to consolidate the shrink-
ing northern and northwestern borders, “re-Islamicize” the Peninsula by
abolishing maligned noncanonical taxes (qat ʿ al-maghaˉrim), and bolster-
˙
ing the power of local Maˉ likıˉ judges.28 The Emir of the Muslims also
asserted religious orthodoxy by denigrating “good-old” Umayyad culture
and paying a symbolic tribute to the ʿAbbaˉ sid Sunnıˉ Caliph in Baghdaˉd.
Andalusıˉ s enjoyed several decades of economic prosperity under their
new Berber protectors. There were also initial military successes, includ-
ing the victory at Uclés in 502/1108. But even at their peak, the nomadic
Berber dynasty was never quite at home in al-Andalus. Despite the al-
Muraˉbituˉn’s military prowess, they had no experience in the long-distance
˙
administration of a vast, urban-based, and loosely connected Arabo-
Islamic empire. They outsourced day-to-day bureaucratic management
of al-Andalus to local officials whose authority they reinforced by their
military presence. This bifurcation of administrative power structure
resulted in fractious tensions. For in contrast to their earlier Khaˉrijıˉ-like
tribal egalitarianism, emir ʿAlıˉ b. Yuˉsuf’s third-generation al-Muraˉbituˉn
˙
troops evolved into a warrior aristocracy who were becoming increasingly
softened by the plentiful luxuries of Iberia. Removed from desert life, they
lost their combative edge, discipline, and endurance. All they retained of
their rugged homeland was an obstinate group solidarity (ʿasabiyya),
˙
which, in the context of the refined urban Andalusıˉ society, proved detri-
mental. Rather than earning the abiding loyalty of native administrators
and aristocracies by integrating Andalusıˉ s into the new elite, they
excluded new tribal elements from their caste. They went so far as to
limit the very name Muraˉbit uˉ n to the founding Lamtuˉna, Massuˉfa, and
˙
Gudaˉla tribes, and entrusted key posts to their clansmen. In early sixth-/
twelfth-century Seville, only the “true” al-Muraˉ bituˉn were afforded the
˙
prestige of donning the awe-inspiring dark mouth-veil (lithaˉ m) of the

was planned from the very beginning, since ʿAbd Allaˉh b. Yaˉsıˉ n had allegedly spent seven
years studying in al-Andalus during the t aˉʾifa period where he gained deep acquaintance
˙
with the sociopolitical dynamics of the time; however, Ibn Yaˉsıˉnʾs presence in al-Andalus
was most likely legendary, as demonstrated by M. Fierro, “Entre el Magreb y al-
Andalus,” p. 117.
28
Fierro, “The qaˉdˉı as ruler,” pp. 104–105.
˙
20 Introduction

desert monarchs.29 Thus, despite their initial reception as saviors of

al-Andalus, the al-Muraˉ bituˉn were soon perceived as a military dictator-
˙
ship of uncouth Berbers. The sophisticated and “high-maintenance”
Andalusıˉs, for their part, soon began to look back nostalgically at the
good-old-t aˉʾifa- days, and expressed their longing for that golden age in
˙
prose and poetry.
By the second-half of ʿAlıˉ b. Yuˉsuf’s reign, meeting Andalusıˉ expecta-
tions of military defense, peace, low taxes, and economic prosperity
became increasingly challenging. Replenishing troops from the far-off
Sahara for service in the borders of daˉr al-islaˉm against Christian aggres-
sion was logistically difficult and financially expensive. The emir tried to
keep pace with his father’s aggressive jihaˉd, and even instituted positive
economic reforms in the region. But in 512/1108, Alfonso I of Aragon, “El
Batallador” (The Warrior) captured Saragossa with support from the
crusading nobles of southern France and the blessings of Pope Gelasius
II. Worse still, ʿAlıˉ was at a disadvantage. For in 515/1121, the al-
Muwahhiduˉn messianic ideologue Ibn Tuˉmart (d. ca. 522/1128) led
˙˙
a Masmuˉda revolt in the Suˉs mountains of southern Morocco. This revolt
˙
put the al-Muraˉbituˉn on the defensive and they could only afford to fund
˙
a defensive line of forts along the northern Andalusıˉ borders.
In order to maintain the jihaˉd, the al-Muraˉbituˉn levied noncanonical
˙
taxes (maghaˉ rim), from which they initially had promised to liberate
Andalusıˉs.30 In accordance with Qurʾaˉ nic injunctions, Muslims in princi-
ple are only obliged to pay the zakaˉt, while non-Muslims were to pay
a poll tax (jizya). But conversions to Islam had diminished the state
revenue, and the al-Muraˉbituˉn, like their predecessors, were forced to
˙
impose religiously unsanctioned maghaˉ rim, such as land tax (kharaˉj)
customs dues, upon Muslim and non-Muslim merchants alike. This jur-
idically condemned policy was so odious to the Muslim-majority popu-
lace that the regime hired third-party Christian mercenaries to exact these
taxes.31 Many scholars, including Ibn Barrajaˉ n, voiced their opposition to
these taxes in their writings and fatwaˉs. Moreover, the general political
and socioeconomic corruption triggered a series of revolts in the pro-
vinces. By 525/1131, Andalusıˉ opposition to the al-Muraˉbituˉn was so
˙
strong that Sayf al-Dawla b. Huˉd broke away from the al-Muraˉ bituˉn and
˙
forged an alliance with Alfonso VII.

29
Meier, “Almoravids and Marabouts,” in Essays on Islamic Piety and Mysticism,
p. 394.
30
Fierro, “Unidad religiosa,” p. 403. 31 Messier, “Re-thinking the Almoravids,” p. 74.
 The Historical Context 21

ʿAlıˉ b. Yuˉsuf’s competent but ill-fated successor Taˉ shufıˉn b. ʿAlıˉ held
on to the reigns of power for only two years, from 537–539/1143–1145.
Al-Muwahhiduˉn rebellions led by ʿAbd al-Muʾmin b. ʿAlıˉ raged between
˙˙
Fez and Tlemcen. The rebels formed a military ring south of Marrakesh
which obstructed communication lines between the capital and the
Sahara. Taˉshufıˉ n b. ʿAlıˉ was killed in Wahraˉn in 539/1145, and in 541/
1147 ʿAbd al-Muʾmin captured the capital city of Marrakesh. In al-
Andalus, an insurmountable revolt shook the capital of Cordoba in 538/
1143, after which most of al-Andalus reservedly acknowledged the al-
Muwahhiduˉn. In 543/1148, the last of the al-Muraˉ bituˉn governors in
˙˙ ˙
the western Andalusıˉ provinces, Yahyaˉ b. Ghaˉniya al-Massuˉfıˉ, died.
˙
However, Muhammad b. Ghaˉniya, an al-Muraˉ bituˉn claimant, established
˙ ˙
the Banuˉ Ghaniyya dynasty in Palma which held sway over the Balearic
Islands until 582/1187.
This summary of the political history of the al-Muraˉbituˉn in Iberia
˙
provides the context against which the originality and significance of Ibn
Barrajaˉn’s scholarly contributions can be fully appreciated in Chapters 1
and 2. The decline of the al-Muraˉbituˉn marked a key transitional phase of
˙
Andalusıˉ history and molded many of the religious, social, and political
positions that Ibn Barrajaˉ n adopted in his writings. Religiously, for
instance, his teachings were developed and articulated in the shadow of
the state-sponsored Maˉlikıˉ jurists (fuqahaˉʾ) and judges (qudaˉt) who
˙
gained enormous influence under the al-Muraˉbituˉn. Ibn Barrajaˉ n very
˙
often preached and wrote in response to the predominant religious dis-
course of these powerful scholars, a discourse which he indirectly sought
to challenge, mold, and broaden. At a social level, Ibn Barrajaˉ n’s with-
drawal into the backlands of Seville marked not only his physical, but also
sociopolitical and intellectual distancing from the mainstream religious
discourse and structures of power. Instead of subjecting himself to the
scrutiny of jurists, he preferred to live in free solitude as a munqabid or a
˙
renunciant “retreater” (munqabiduˉ n, lit. “those who withdraw from the
˙
political sphere”), avoiding both roles of social leadership and popular
ascendancy, and shunning all forms of political cooperation with the state.
Finally, Ibn Barrajaˉn’s cynical and sometimes millenarian politics and
expectations of end-times surface in his later works in response to the
grave failures of the al-Muraˉbituˉn to secure peace and prosperity for
˙
Andalusıˉs. His poignant criticisms of the regime for failing to defend its
northern borders from Christian encroachment, levying noncannonical
taxes (maghaˉrim) from Andalusıˉs, and cooperating with non-Muslim
politicians speaks of the political climate of his day.
 1

The Beginnings of a Mystical Discourse

in al-Andalus
Ibn Masarra, Maˉ likism, and the Politics
of an Epistemological Debate

introduction
Much of the early history and doctrinal development of mysticism in al-
Andalus during the early and formative periods (fourth–sixth/tenth–twelfth
centuries) remains unknown. This lacuna results from the fact that several
key works have been lost, and a number of reliable Arabic critical editions
have only very recently been published. Moreover, in-depth monograph
studies of individual representatives of this period are scarce, and the
pioneering efforts of Asín Palacios, Nwyia, and more recently by Dreher,
Urvoy, Fierro, Cornell, Garden, Serrano Ruano, and Ebstein, among others
have yet to bring this subject into full light. Building upon previous efforts,
this chapter sketches the contours of Islamic mysticism on the Iberian
Peninsula during its early stage of development. The religious, social, and
political factors of this period anticipate the sixth-/twelfth-century mystical
tradition which will be analyzed in Chapter 2. The early and formative
periods discussed below helped shape the distinct intellectual world out of
which the seminal Andalusıˉ school of philosophical Sufism emerged,
espoused by figures such as Ibn ʿArabıˉ (d. 637/1240), Ibn Sabʿıˉn (d. 668/
1270), and Shushtarıˉ (d. 667/1269), as well as North Africans such as
Harraˉlıˉ (d. 638/1241) and Tilimsaˉ nıˉ (d. 690/1291).
˙
The beginnings of Andalusıˉ mystical discourse can be detected in the
writings of various ascetics or renunciants (zuhhaˉ d), discussed in
Section I. This movement of law-abiding and austere pietists evolved
parallel to the intellectually inclined mystical tradition and harks back to
the earliest third-/ninth-century phase of Andalusıˉ history. While not all
renunciants were mystically inclined, all mystics were closely associated

22
 Introduction 23

with renunciation. Within approximately one hundred years, i.e., by the

mid-Umayyad period, renunciants established their own rural convents
(sing. ribaˉ t ), private centers of instruction, and flocked to cities such
˙
as Seville where they studied the works of Eastern Sufis such as Maʿruˉ f
al-Karkhıˉ (d. 200/815), Muhaˉ sibıˉ (d. 243/857), Saqatˉı (d. 253/867),
˙ ˙
Tustarıˉ (d. 283/896), Junayd (d. 298/910), and Abuˉ Saʿıˉ d b. al-Aʿraˉ bıˉ
(d. 341/952). Most renunciants were pacifists who withdrew from the
court (inqibaˉ d ʿan al-sult aˉ n) and eschewed state patronage. However,
˙ ˙
this movement as a whole enjoyed popular ascendancy and posed
a threat to dominant structures of political power and religious author-
ity during times of instability. Renunciants harbored antigovernmental
tendencies, even the potential for counterpolitical revolution, and were
associated in biographical works with the so-called “Retreaters”
(munqabid uˉ n), that is, “those who withdrew from state power”
˙
(inqibaˉ d ʿan al-sult aˉ n). They represented a trend of conscientious, quie-
˙ ˙
tist resistance to the religiopolitical hegemony of Maˉ likıˉ jurists in al-
Andalus and expressed their opposition to the state-jurist entente by
refusing to serve as judges (qaˉ d ıˉ s) for the emir. Retreaters were held by
˙
the masses in high esteem for their sincerity and included great scholars,
renunciants, and mystics among their ranks.
Section II examines the seminal figure Ibn Masarra al-Jabalıˉ
(d. 319/931), a renunciant with connections to the retreaters’ movement
who deserves to be called the “father of Andalusıˉ mysticism.” His doc-
trinal interests went beyond the conventional practices of his peers, and
his teachings left an indelible mark on subsequent generations of Andalusıˉ
mystics. Drawing on a variety of sources including the Qurʾaˉn, Hadıˉth,
˙
Eastern Sufi works, Neoplatonic cosmology, and personal inspiration, Ibn
Masarra expressed a syncretic worldview in a sophisticated language of
cosmology, symbolism, contemplation (iʿtibaˉ r), the science of the letters
(ʿilm al-huruˉ f), and inner interpretation of the Qurʾaˉ n (taʾwıˉ l). Although
˙
his followers failed to gain popular momentum, they were remarkably
resilient in the face of political crackdowns and staunch Maˉ likıˉ opposi-
tion. Ibn Masarra’s teachings represented an early competing alternative
to the religious universe defined by the Maˉ likıˉ ʿulamaˉ ʾ and jeopardized the
existing balance of religious authority in the Peninsula. In the Umayyad
period, his followers were already implicated in a broad and politicized
epistemological debate over the possibility of “saints’ evidentiary mira-
cles” (karaˉ maˉt al-awliyaˉʾ) and the “acquisition of prophecy” through
spiritual realization (iktisaˉb al-nubuwwa). Despite all odds, they contin-
ued to develop as an uninterrupted oral and written tradition throughout
24 The Beginnings of a Mystical Discourse in al-Andalus

the fourth–fifth/tenth–eleventh centuries, culminating in the seminal intel-

lectual formulations of the sixth-/twelfth-century Andalusıˉ mystics.
The hallmark, and indeed the single common denominator that under-
pins the teachings of Ibn Masarra and his followers, is the concept of ʿibra/
iʿtibaˉr, a word that stems from the root ʿ-B-R, or “crossing.” The ʿibra is
the mystic’s experience of the hereafter in this life through his grasping of
the celestial realities imbedded in the signs of God throughout existence.
In the medieval sources, Ibn Masarra’s followers were known as
“Masarrīs” (masarriyya). This eponymous label, however, was by no
means their self-designation. They self-identified not as Massarıˉs, philo-
sophers, or Sufis, but as Muʿtabiruˉn or “Contemplatives” (lit. practi-
tioners of the crossing into the unseen world) and are referred to as such
throughout this study.
In contrast to the renunciants and the Muʿtabiruˉn, the Maˉ likıˉ intelli-
gentsia enjoyed the sponsorship of Umayyad, t aˉ ʾifa, and al-Muraˉbituˉn
˙ ˙
emirs. They wielded enormous influence in the politically fragmented,
militarily beleaguered, economically unstable, and ethnically stratified
territories of al-Andalus. Most emirs (and especially the al-Muraˉ bituˉn)
˙
sought to use Maˉlikism as a unifying religiopolitical force by integrating
jurists into the state apparatus. The political utility of Maˉ likism buttressed
the long-standing state-jurist entente in al-Andalus, which posed
a formidable challenge to the flowering of Andalusıˉ mystical discourse.
Tensions between Maˉ likıˉ authorities and the ruling emirs on the one
hand, and renunciants, retreaters, and the Muʿtabiruˉ n on the other,
reached new heights in 495/1102. That year marks the influx of the
works of the great Persian scholar Abuˉ Haˉmid al-Ghazaˉ lıˉ (d. 505/1111)
˙
into the orbit of Andalusıˉ scholarship, as discussed in Section III.
His integrative and monumental “Revival of the Religious Sciences”
(Ihyaˉʾ ʿuluˉ m al-dıˉ n) quite literally caught fire in the thoroughly
˙
Maˉ likised regions of al-Andalus. Within only eight years, i.e., 503/1109,
copies of the Ihyaˉʾ and other Ghazaˉ lian works were put to the torch in the
˙
courtyard of the grand mosque of Cordoba. Some thirty years later,
a second book-burning took place. During these three crucial decades,
Ghazaˉlıˉ’s spiritualizing vision of Islam reinforced mystics with a set of
arguments against state-jurists and supplied them with a vast treasury
of Sufi guidance. More importantly, however, was the Ihyaˉʾ’s function as
˙
a sociopolitical rallying point for an alternative source of religious author-
ity. Its syncreticism was embraced by an already entrenched camp of
renunciants and mystics of the al-Muraˉbituˉn period and catalyzed the
˙
formation of an Andalusıˉ mystical group identity. Around the turn of
 I Renunciation 25

the fifth–sixth/eleventh–twelfth century, Andalusıˉ mysticism acquired

a distinctive self-image, and the formative mystics, Ibn Barrajaˉ n (d. 536/
1141), Ibn al-ʿArıˉf (d. 536/1141), and Ibn Qasıˉ (d. 545/1151), who will be
dealt with in Chapter 2, rose to prominence.

i renunciation
The Early Umayyad Period
The study of Andalusıˉ mysticism is complicated by the fact that
a considerable percentage of figures who were classified by biographers
of the Muslim West as “Sufi” were actually practitioners of asceticism,
or renunciants (zuhhaˉd) of worldly pleasure. Further, the distinction
between praxis-centered renunciation and philosophical mysticism is dif-
ficult to demarcate because most mystics, beginning with Ibn Masarra,
combined the behavioral orientation of renunciation with mystical
expositions.1 It is useful to remember, by way of demarcation between
these two trends, that it was always the ascetic’s personification of out-
standing virtue and outward orthopraxy as defined by Maˉ likıˉ ethics not
inner belief and lofty metaphysics, that made him or her stand out among
coreligionists. Moreover, the tradition of renunciation was broader,
older, and more doctrinally conservative than mysticism. Its luminaries
were typified in hagiographical works by heroic piety, denouncing
worldly pleasure, and combating the passions of the lower soul (nafs).
Some were even great legal scholars who internalized the teachings of
the Sharıˉ ʿa to such a remarkable extent that they were crowned by
biographers, especially in later centuries, as “people of [religious] knowl-
edge and practice” (ahl al-ʿilm wa-l-ʿamal). The range of descriptive
titles for renunciants is indicative of distinctions made by biographers
between various prototypes and tendencies within this pietist tradition.
Qualifying adjectives such as “precautious” (wariʿ), “worshiper” (ʿaˉ bid),
“devout” (naˉsik), “abstinent” (mutabattil), “detached” (munqat iʿ), and
˙
“self-mortifying” (mutaqashshif) often appear in association with these
figures and are even used as honorifics (laqab) in their onomastic chains.2
Unfortunately, much of the biographical and literary output by or on
Andalusıˉ renunciants has not survived, and relatively few excerpts have

1
Urvoy, Le monde des ulémas, pp. 37–39. See also Asín Palacios, “Abenmasarra y su
escuela,” in Obras escogidas.
2
Marín, “Zuhhaˉ d of al-Andalus,” p. 105. For a discussion of definitions, trends, and practices
of zuhd in early Sunnism, see Salem, The Emergence of Early Sufi Piety, pp. 105–110.
26 The Beginnings of a Mystical Discourse in al-Andalus

been preserved by Eastern authors. However, there is no doubt that

Andalusıˉ zuhd was more vigorous a movement than we can infer from
extant texts. The renunciants enjoyed a high standing in Andalusıˉ society
among scholars and laymen alike.3 Traces of their social prominence can
be gleaned already in the second/eighth century, for instance, in the life of
Imaˉm Maˉlik’s own disciple Shabtuˉn (d. 194/809) who was a close associ-
˙
ate of the Umayyad emir Hishaˉm I (r. 172–180/788–796). But in contrast
to Shabtuˉn’s political conformism, renunciants often stood in moral-
˙
political opposition to the state. The great Moroccan jurist and Hadıˉth
˙
scholar, Qaˉ dˉı ʿIyaˉ d (d. 544/1149), gives an account of a large group (up
˙ ˙
to 140) of notables, jurists and renunciants in Cordoba who were so
infuriated by al-Hakam b. Hishaˉm’s (r. 180–206/796–822) scandalous
˙
lifestyle and public consumption of alcohol that they conspired to
dethrone him in 189/805. Their plot was foiled, however, and seventy-
two conspirators were executed and impaled along the Rasˉıf promenade
˙
of Cordoba. Public opinion of the emir, which was already low on account
of his oppressive fiscal policies and his enlistment of foreign mercenary
recruits, plummeted after his crackdown on admired jurists and renun-
ciants. Revolts soon broke out in 190/806 then in 202/818 in Rabad
˙
Shanquda, a southern outskirt of Cordoba along the left bank of
Guadalquivir, during which the jurist Yahyaˉ b. Mudar (d. 189/804) and
˙ ˙
others were killed.4
The revolt of Rabad and the failed coup d’état were wake-up calls for
˙
al-Hakam I and his successors. Gone were the days when the emir could
˙
the rule without validation of the juridical class, some of whom were
renunciants. The emir’s policies quickly turned pro-Maˉlikıˉ, for he suppo-
sedly repented and pardoned the acclaimed renunciant scholar ʿĪsaˉ
b. Dıˉnaˉ r (d. 212/827).5 The emir also introduced the institution of the
jurisconsults (fuqahaˉʾ mushaˉwaruˉ n) into his court, so that thenceforth
he would be seen surrounded by legal experts who commanded the
loyalty and respect of the people and whose presence and palace consulta-
tions stood as proof of the legitimacy and righteousness of the state.
The jurisconsults were judicial advisors who typically formed an advisory
council (shuˉ ra) for a qaˉdˉı or the emir. They were chosen by the emir often
˙
in consultation with the chief judge of Cordoba, and were consulted for
legal opinions (fatwaˉ s) both individually and collectively by the emir and
his judges.6 The assimilation of jurisconsults into the regime apparatus

3
Ibid., pp. 104–105. 4 Lévi-Provençal, Histoire, I, pp. 160–173.
5
EI2, “ʿĪsaˉ b. Dıˉnaˉr,” (H. Monès). 6 Monès, “The role of men of religion,” pp. 58–62.
 I Renunciation 27

certainly secured a place of privilege for Maˉlikism in Umayad Spain.7 But

the alliance of religious figures to the state is always a double-edged
sword, and jurists would soon face resentment from the masses who
held them accountable for the ups and downs of an unpopular court.
The association specifically of renunciants with a crime against the
state signals the potential for counterpolitical resistance that men of
piety heralded already in the third/ninth century.8 Their latent power is
hinted at in biographical sources which sometimes refer to them as being
men “whose prayers are answered” (mujaˉ buˉ al-daʿwa).9 Due to their
intense piety, the renunciants were perceived as being closer to God and
their prayers more likely to be answered than ordinary believers or even
state-judges. They were sometimes called upon to conduct communal rain
supplications (salaˉt al-istisqaˉʾ) during droughts instead of the officially
˙
appointed prayer leaders (saˉhib al-salaˉt).10 The esteem with which renun-
˙ ˙ ˙
ciants were held generally, and their appeal particularly during times of
hardship, would pose a soft challenge to both religious and political
authorities for centuries to come.11

Retreaters from the Political Sphere

As the entente between Maˉlikıˉs and the ruling elite grew stronger, voices
of intellectual, social, and mystical opposition grew louder. By the al-
Muraˉbituˉn period, Andalusıˉ poets such as Abuˉ Jaʿfar b. al-Binnıˉ decried
˙
the use of fiqh as a means to worldly ends in verse such as:
Hypocrites!. . . The doctrine of Maˉ lik has made you masters of the world, and you
have used the name of [the compiler of Maˉ likıˉ law] Ibn al-Qaˉsim to gather all your
riches.12

Ibn al-Binnıˉ was one of many scholars who had genuine scruples about the
state-jurist entente. Conscientious objectors looked askance at wealthy

7
For an overview and further references on the place of Maˉ likism in al-Andalus, see Fierro,
“Proto-Malikis.”
8
Gharmıˉnıˉ, al-Madaˉ ris al-suˉ fiyya, pp 31–33.
9
Ibn Abıˉ al-Dunyaˉ has a ˙ book which bears the title Mujaˉbuˉ al-daʿwa (Those Whose
Prayers Are Answered).
10
See Marín, “Muslim religious practices,” p. 881. The prayers of the ascetics were also
desired during times of hardship, civil upheaval, war, or famine. See El Hour,
“The Andalusian qaˉdˉı,” pp. 68–69, wherein Ibn Khalduˉn mentions that rain supplica-
˙
tions was an official function of the judges.
11
Marín, “Zuhhaˉd of al-Andalus,”pp. 114–116.
12
Murraˉkushıˉ, al-Muʿjib, pp. 235–236. Cf. Messier, “Re-thinking the Almoravids,” p. 66.
28 The Beginnings of a Mystical Discourse in al-Andalus

legal experts who associated with the rulers and received state pensions.
By distancing themselves from the state and its jurists for political and
pietistic causes, they personified the biographical trope known in medieval
sources as the “Retreaters” (munqabiduˉ n), for they “withdrew from
˙
rulers” (inqibaˉd ʿan al-sult aˉ n) out of pious precaution with respect to
˙ ˙
worldly authority. Echoing an age-old moralistic ethos that harks back,
somewhat ironically, to Imaˉ m Maˉlik himself, the retreaters considered the
alliance with corrupt courts to be a worldly compromise.13 Accounts of
scholars who refused to serve appointments such as “chief judge of the
capital city” (qaˉdˉı al-jamaˉ ʿa) date back to the third/ninth century. For
˙
instance, one of Ibn Masarra’s teachers, the renunciant Hadıˉth scholar
˙
Muhammad b. ʿAbd al-Salaˉ m al-Khushanıˉ (d. 286/899), turned down the
˙
assignment of judge in Jaén, which angered the Umayyad caliph ʿAbd al-
Rahmaˉn III.
˙
Scholars who practiced inqibaˉd were usually in the minority. However,
˙
their scrupulousness, piety, and anti-establishment politics left a deep
impression on common believers, and they often stood as a moral check
for the state-jurists. Tellingly, many judges began to cash in on piety for
public consumption. It became a convention for jurists to first refuse
an appointment to avoid being perceived as a sellout to the regime.
Mimicking the munqabiduˉ n, the state-jurists only accepted appointments
˙
of judgeship after displaying pious reluctance to engage in politics.14
As we shall see in Chapter 3, Andalusıˉ mystics and followers of Ibn
Masarra during the formative period lived during a time when the reli-
gious discourse was defined by the Maˉ likıˉ judges. They often embraced
the Retreaters’ way of life as an expression of political-intellectual dissent.

The Late Emirate and Early Caliphate Period

Retreaters, renunciants, mystics, and those “whose prayers are answered”
formed an eclectic, minority, and generally tacit oppositional force to
mainstream Maˉ likism. While certain strands of esoteric discourse in al-
Andalus may have been silently tolerated by Andalusıˉ Umayyads as
a counterbalance to Faˉ timıˉ esoterists (baˉt iniyya),15 there is no doubt
˙ ˙
13
Coulson, “Doctrine and practice in Islamic law.” For a discussion of inqibaˉd by an early
˙
Andalusıˉ scholar, see Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr’s Jaˉmiʿ bayaˉ n al-ʿilm, I, pp. 631–647.
14
Marín, “Inqibaˉd ʿan al-sultaˉn,” pp. 131–32, 139.
15 ˙ ˙
Claims by esoterists to infallibility, supernatural knowledge, and Mahdism challenged
the religiopolitical legitimacy of the Umayyads. For a discussion of knowledge politics in
al-Andalus, see Fierro, “Plants, Mary the Copt,” pp. 125–144.
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az öreg Kislaky, ki fiát Etelkának bemutatni s nem kikiáltatni akará a
házasságot, elkövetett mindent, hogy Etelka neve az ovátióból
kihagyassék, mind hasztalan! Háromszáz sz.-vilmosi torokkal csak a
végítélet trombitája versenyezhetne s beszéd nem használván,
kézre került a dolog. Kálmán a nagy vonzalom ellenében visszalökő
erejének egész hatalmával dolgozott s nem mondhatni, hogy
derekas benyomást ne tett volna sok érte lángoló sz.-vilmosi
kebelre, minek azonban csak annyival vala szavánál több hatása,
hogy szép átilája széttépetett s egy palaczk vörös bor, mely feléjé
nyujtatva széttört, a küzdőt tetőtől-talpig leönté, ki most ég s föld
között lebegve, hat markos legény vállain hasztalan gyakorlá ökleit
és sarkantyúit, az előbbi kiáltások között egyenesen kedvese
szobájához czipeltetett.
A zajra a vendégek a ház előtt összegyűltek s hallva Etelka s
Kálmán nevét, egy része bámult s más része gratulálni kezde. Az
alispán zavarában mosolyogva hajtogatá s csóválá fejét, hogy
mozdulatai se igen, se nemnek ne magyaráztathassanak; az
alispánné, kinek szerencséjére a tisztujítás s a Kislakyak befolyása
jutott eszébe, mondá, hogy az egész tévedés s hogy erről még szó
sem vala; Karvaly pedig a kiáltókhoz csatlakozva, hatalmas szavával
hirdeté a szép pár dicsőségét, melynek sz.-vilmosi tisztelői már
Etelka ajtajához értek s küszöbe előtt a levegőben tánczoltaták
szerencsétlen imádóját.
 Kálmán magán kívül volt. Így jelenni meg kedvese előtt, kitől még
előbbi hibáiért engedelmet kelle kérnie, széttépett átilával, borral
leöntve, háromszáz nemestárs karjai között, – ki nem érezné e
helyzet kinait? Kért, sirt, káromkodott, mindent egyszerre s mindent
legkisebb siker nélkül; szerencséjére azon istennő vagy angyal, mely
a való szerelmet pártolja, úgy intézte a dolgokat, hogy Etelka helyett
csak szobaleánya volt szobájában s így a tisztelgő csapat csak a
piruló Rózsi s a nagyreményű sz.-vilmosi jegyző előtt, ki bizonyosan
véletlenül ott volt, ordíthatta el jó kívánatait.
Azon boldogság után, melyet kedvesünk látásán érzünk, a
legnagyobb – mint egy szerelemben megőszült ismerősömtől hallám
– bizonyosan az: ha némely helyzetekben szivünk bálványával nem
találkozunk; s nincs, ki ezt valaha inkább érezte volna, mit Kálmán e
pillanatban. Ákos, kit nővére nevének kiáltozása boszantott, hogy
ennek véget vessen, figyelmetessé tette a tisztelt gyülekezetet, hogy
minden szolgabirónak esküdtre is van szüksége s hogy e hivatalra
alkalmasabb egyén nincs e világon Pennaházy Bandi jegyzőnél, ki e
szavak után, rémséges kiáltások között, Rózsi helyett a
közvélemény által felkarolva, jövendő szolgabirájával együtt az
udvarra vitetett, hogy ott az alispán előtt bemutattassék, ki
mindehhez szüntelen mosolyogva, csak tökéletes helybenhagyását
jelenté ki.
Önigazolásomra – ha olvasóim közt valaki az által, hogy a sz.-
vilmosi jegyzőt Rózsinál találtuk, a valószinűség törvényét talán
sértve látná – csak azt mondhatom, hogy, ha nem is mint Hegel
hiszi: minden a mi van, az jó, – legalább minden, a mi való,
közönségesen valószinű is s hogy Rózsi fekete szemei s Pennaházy
szőke pödört bajsza oly neműek valának, hogy miután Sz.-Vilmoson
– honnan Rózsi jó nemes házból származott – többször találkoztak,
csak természetes, hogy Tiszaréten fölkeresék egymást; főkép
miután – ha az említett fekete szemek s szőke bajusztól
elvonatkozunk is – kellemesebb két egyediséget alig találhatni.
Rózsi, ki asszonyával Pesten létekor magyar szinházba járt, több új
s régibb zsebkönyvet olvasott, sőt néhány verset könyv nélkül is
tudott, azon míveltebb szobaleányok közé tartozott, kik, mert
közönségesen uraságuk viselt ruháiban járnak s ugyanazt beszélik,
mit úrnőiktől hallottak, szinte kisasszonyoknak látszanak; s
Pennaházy, ki egy hosszú országgyűlés alatt a hallgatók között
hatalmas szavával majd éljenezve, majd más kijelentések által élénk
részt vett a legfontosabb tanácskozásokban s rejtett szavakkal
gyönyörködteté a Nemzeti Ujság olvasóit, ismertebb, minthogy
érdemeiről szólanom kellene. Föl is jegyeztem volna az érdekes
beszélgetést, melyben e két szeretetreméltó személy a kortesek által
meglepetett, ha országos dolgok leirása nem várna reám s e
beszélgetés, minden gyönyörei mellett, nem lett volna különösen –
szótalan.
Olvasóim, kiknek nagy része kétségkívül tudja, mi kellemetlen
minden hölgynek s főkép szobaleánynak, ha valamely férfival
magánosan találtatik, képzelhetik a zavart, melylyel Rózsi annyi férfi
jelenlétében eltelt; miután azonban kedves jegyzőjét a kortesek
vállain mindjárt Kálmán mellett látá s hallá a közbizodalom szavát,
mely őt esküdtségre jelölte ki: megnyugodott sorsában, sőt
kevesebb fájdalommal látá karjaiból kiragadtatni bálványát, mintha
az tulajdon lábain ment volna el tőle. Csendesen összetakarítá a
szobát, mely a kortesek által kissé rendetlenségbe jött és sóhajtva,
hogy Pennaházy még esküdtté s ő Pennaházynévá nem vált, a
kávés konyhába készült, midőn a mellékszoba ajtajának nyilása
vonta magára figyelmét.
E szoba Macskaházyé vala s Etelka szobájával ugyanazon
folyosóra nyilt.
Rózsi a küszöbön állt meg s világosan hallá Macskaházy szavát,
ki ajtaját kulcscsal bezárva, midőn távozott, így szólt valakihez: –
Pontban hét órakor a jegyző kertje mellett.
– Ott leszek thekhinthetes uram! – felelt a másik hang, mely
szinte keleti, noha nem magyarnak látszott.
– A jutalmat ismered – válaszolt Macskaházy s a két beszélgető
együtt elment.
– Jaj nekem! – szóla végre az elrémült szobaleány, midőn a
távozók léptei a folyosó kövezetén nem hallatszottak többé, –
Macskaházy szobájában volt s mindent hallott, mert olyan füle nincs
senkinek a világon. – Talán csak nem szól a nagyságos asszonynak!
S ezzel bezárva ajtaját, s fogai közt szidva az ügyészt zsidójával
együtt, eltávozott.
S most kedves olvasóim, habár néhánynak köztetek Rózsi
társasága kellemesebbnek látszanék is, fontosabb dolgok hívnak. Az
alispán hat órára conferentiát hirdetett, az óra közelg, menjünk a
terembe.
 IX.

Létezik e hazában – okát nehéz volna föltalálni, de a tény

tagadhatatlan – létezik e hazában bizonyos összeköttetés az ebéd s
a politika között. Én legalább azt tapasztaltam, hogy valamint jó
szakácscsal ellátott s vendégszerető táblabirák soha politikai
befolyás nélkül nem maradnak, úgy országos dolgokról való
tanácskozásra mindig oly helyek szoktak választatni, hol minden
szék mult vagy jövő ebédekre int; s ezért ha van nemesség, mely
érdemes, hogy a római partriciatushoz hasonlítassék, nézetem
szerint csak a magyar az, kire Menenius Agrippa azon beszéde,
melyben a senatust az állam gyomrához hasonlítá, egészen
alkalmazható. Ez történt itt is, s a tanácskozmány szinhelyéül az
ebédlő jelöltetett ki, mely azonban most egészen más alakban áll
előttünk. A nagy asztalt a hófehér abrosz helyett zöld posztó takarja,
palaczkok s poharak helyén nagy tentatartók állnak, minden szék
előtt tányér helyett egy-egy ív papir, s ha a szoba falai s a kedves
káposztaszag nem maradnak e teremben, mely most ezüst
kargyertyákkal világítva áll előttünk, alig ismernénk azon helyre, hol
pár órával ezelőtt annyi lárma s felköszöntés hallatszott.
Most a kandalló körül, az ablakokban s pamlag mellett, hol az
alispánné ült, az egész társaság kis körökre oszolva csendesen
beszélgetett. Magok a családképek, melyek a falon függtek, úgy
látszik, méltóságosabban néznek le az új nemzedékre, mint az ebéd
alatt, s midőn a család egyik legnagyobb férfia, ki Rákóczy alatt
kapitányoskodva, 1715 után, jeléül miként tiszteltetett mindkét
részről, donatiót kapott, a vastag Réty Jeromos annyi étvágygyal
látszott lenézni boldogabb utódaira, hogy szinte megsajnáltuk; az
alispán édes apja pedig, a kamarás, ki magát, nem tudom miért,
hátulról, midőn épen visszanéz, festette, bajsztalan arczával, a
háromszegű kalappal hóna alatt, s a kis békanyúzóval oldalán egy
csöppet sem emlékeztetett azon férfias erőre, melyet költőink az
erős apák korában keresni szoktak.
Azokon kívül, kiket olvasóim a tornáczon az alispán úrral már
láttak, a teremben számos társaságot találunk. Mindenek előtt két
lelkész áll előttünk, kiknek egyike talán valamivel vastagabb, másika
valamivel szárazabb, mint hivatala kívánná, de kik mint egyházi
szónokok, főkép tisztujításoknál, hol a vallás, mint tudjuk, oly nagy
szerepet játszik, egyaránt kitünők. Utánok négy vagy öt táblabiró s
három szolgabiró, kiket leirni fölösleges, mert hála az égnek! a
táblabirói s szolgabirói hivatal jellemző különbségeit olvasóim
ismerik. Az ajtó mellett pár esküdt, Pennaházy s egy tiszteletbeli
aljegyző, kullogtak; a szobában néhány uradalmi ügyész járt
alázatosan körül, s a szegény rokonok – egyet kivéve, ki az ebéd
következtében valahol ledőlt s eddig elő nem került – mint szegény
rokonokhoz illik, inasi szolgálatokat teljesítve sietnek fel s alá.
Az ablakok egyikében a társaságtól elkülönözve, s mint látszik,
igen érdekes tárgyakról beszélgetve, három férfi áll, kik, mihelyt a
szobába lépünk, figyelmünket magokra vonják.
E férfiak egyike, ki fölpedert fekete bajuszszal s fölfelé fésült
hajakkal annyi méltósággal emeli fejét, mintha keveselve ölnyi
magasságát, még nagyobbnak akarna látszani: Slacsanek úr, gr.
Kővárynak, e megye legnagyobb birtokosának, teljes hatalmu
igazgatója, mely czimet Slacsanek úr csak szerénységből tartja meg,
miután az, ki, mint ő, valamiről szabadon rendelkezik, s a
jövedelmek nagyobb részét szedi, joggal birtokosnak is nevezhetné
magát.
A kis köpczös emberke, ki e nagy férfiú mellett áll s szüntelen
beszél, vagy legalább időről-időre fejét hajtogatva s kezeivel
helybenhagyást intve egyes szavakban mint: persze, majd, bizon,
ejnye, ki hitte volna! stb. részt vesz a beszélgetésben, nem más,
mint báró Sóskuty ő nagysága. Valódi gavallér, mint az asszonyok
hirdetik, Magyarország legderekabb mágnása, a férfiak ítélete
szerint, kinek társaságában senkinek eszébe sem jut, hogy
mágnással van dolga, oly annyira, hogy a debreczeni vásár alatt
egyszer csakugyan szappanosnak tartották. Tiszteletre méltó férfiú,
kit németül kevesen, francziául soha senki szólni nem hallott, s kinek
conservativ elvei, melyekkel e haza dolgaihoz szólt, annyival inkább
dicsőségére szolgálnak, mennyivel inkább látjuk, hogy mi személyét
illeti, az ősi javakhoz épen nem ragaszkodik. A báró mintegy hatvan
éves lehetett; egykor – meg kell vallanunk – vörös haja fejéredni
kezdett, s e pirosság élete alkonyán, mint ilyenkor szokott, lejebb
szállva jelenleg oly szépen égett arczain, hogy rózsákhoz
hasonlítanám, ha ez uj hasonlatosságot nem kellene azon alkalomra
eltennem, ha majd a szépnemről szólok.
Hogy ily férfiak társaságában – melyeknek egyike valóságos
mágnás, másika még valamivel több, azaz igen gazdag gróf
uradalmi igazgatója, ki tisztujításoknál közel ezer szavazatról
rendelkezik – oly ildomos férfiú, mint Krivér főjegyző, csak
alázatosan viselheté magát; hogy arczán csak a szerénység s
tisztelet azon ájtatos mosolygását látjuk, melylyel némely szentek
festetnek; hogy teste nem tehetett mást, mint hajlongani, ajkai nem
mondhattak egyebet mint: mennyire megtisztelve érzi csekély
személyét és ha kegyesen megengedni méltóztatnának… azt bölcs
olvasóim át fogják látni; ki pedig ennyi nyájasságot főjegyzőben
sokallana, annak magyarázatául mondhatom: először, hogy Krivér
másod alispánná akar választatni, másodszor, hogy általán véve
önmagát megalázni második természetévé vált. A főjegyző azon
emberek közé tartozott, kik politikai pályájukat mint nagy urak irnokai
vagy titoknokai kezdik, s később is azok iránt, kiktől valamit várnak,
annyival több alázatosságot tartanak meg, mennyivel kevesebbet
használnak föl e keresztyén erényből azok között, kik allattuk állnak.
Irva áll: ki magát megalázza, föl fog emeltetni, s miután Krivérnek ép
ez vala kívánata, tudván, hogy tisztujításoknál emeltetés nélkül
semmire sem lehet menni (mert ez egy napon a nemesség maga
fölött akarja látni tisztviselőit) az irás idézett szavai szerint elkövetett
mindent, hogy czélt érjen.
– Hát csakugyan bizonyosan tudja a teins úr – szólt Slacsanek a
főjegyzőhöz, – hogy az a szerencsétlen Veszősy is a Bántornyiakhoz
szegődött?
 – Bizonyosan, Domine spectabilis, fájdalom – bizonyosan!
– Hát nem mondtam mindíg – vágott közbe a báró – nem
mondtam ezerszer, hogy Veszősyhez semmi bizalmam? Most három
éve, mintegy tizennégy nappal lehetett a tisztujítás előtt, délután volt,
ha nem csalódom pénteken, mikor a teins úrral a kávéház előtt
találkoztam. Többen voltak ott, in specie, néhány katonatiszt. Én
pipára gyujtottam s oda ültem a teins úr mellé a zöld padra a sátor
alatt; bizony Domine Spectabilis, mondtam én, az a Veszősy – –
– Teljesen igaza volt méltóságodnak – – de –
– Az a Veszősy – mondtam én – liberalis és a mi még rosszabb,
olyan, ki mindig elveiről szól, vagyonos ember és – –
– Igaz, igaz – szakítá félbe a neki tüzesedő bárót Slacsanek – de
Veszősy hatalmas ember, hiba, hogy azzá tettük, s hogy ép oly
járásban állítottuk főbirónak, melynek legtöbb szavazata van, de – –
– Azt akarja mondani teins ur – folytatá a báró, ki három «úgy
van»-nal fűszerezé az előbbinek beszédét – talán magunkhoz
keríthetjük? Nemde el kell csábítani őt? Ez az egész titok. Tudják-e a
teins urak, mit? Én a járásban lakom, majd vadászatot adunk, a
törvény értelme szerinti farkas-vadászatot. A parasztoknak hajtani
kell, önök mind eljőnek, neki is mint szolgabirónak jelen kell lennie,
mert persze ha csak nyulakat lövünk is, præsuppositione juris
farkasok ellen vadászunk és akkor majd – mint mondám, a
szolgabirónak is jelen kell lennie – körülkerítjük. Én tudok egy módot
– először – –
– Igen – sóhajta közbe szomorú képpel a főjegyző – ha a fiatal
báró, kinek még több befolyása van a megyére mint nagysádnak,
nem volna ellenünk.
– Az átkozott gyerek – mondá a báró fejét csóválva – hányszor
nem mondtam pedig neki: fiam Bálint – –
– Talán ha méltóságod apai hatalmánál fogva –
 – Helyes, tökéletesen igaza van barátom uramnak; apai
hatalmamnál fogva én a gyereknek mindent parancsolhatok. Mi
mindenkor egy értelemben vagyunk s a fiú mindenben
engedelmeskedik, nem is javasolnám, hogy mást tegyen; de ép ez
egyben – –
– De csak épen ebben méltóztatnék a méltóságos úrfinak
engedelmeskedni – vélekedik Krivér.
– Igaza van amice! igaza! Én a fiút még kitagadom, valósággal
kitagadom.
Slacsanek, ki tudá, miként a báró földi javai nem oly nagyok,
hogy elvesztésök veszélye valakire nagy hatást gyakorolhatna, vagy
kinek talán eszébe jutott, hogy kitagadásra előbb az öreg báró halála
szükséges, mire tisztujításig az időt kevesellé, más módokat
javasolt. Mire a báró válaszolá, hogy ő sok módokat tud. – Az első
mindjárt: ha megházasodnék; nem hiszi a teins úr, mennyi hatása
van ennek az emberre, főkép a mi családunkban! Mielőtt én
megházasodtam, nem volt szabadelműebb ember három megyében
és most – – no de a fiú nem akar házasodni; – hallatlan! de nem
akar házasodni.
– Hát ebben a járásban hogy’ állunk? – kérdé Slacsanek ismét a
főjegyzőhöz fordulva, midőn látá, hogy a forrás, melyből a báró
beszédje most foly, alkalmasint fölötte bőnek mutatkozik.
– Itt is csupa veszedelem, ellenünk van először Tengelyi.
– Tengelyi! – kiáltott a báró – Tengelyi! egy falusi jegyző, no nagy
dolog! Tengelyi? s hány Tengelyi kell, hogy velünk a tisztujításnál
szembeszálljon?
– Csak épen egygyel több, mint mi magunk vagyunk – válaszolt a
nagy director; – a szavazatok, fájdalom, számoltatnak, s nem
mérlegeztetnek, s én kevés hatalmasabb ellenséget ismerek a
jegyzőnél.
A báró elégedetlenül csóválá fejét. Krivér folytatá:
 – Maga Ákos, ha nem tesz is semmit nyiltan ellenünk, de
mellettünk sem.
– Ecce – vágott közbe a báró – fiam példája, ismét egy rossz
gyermek, ki nem apját akarja alispának; mondom est ad – –
– Csak a Kislakyak maradjanak, akkor a járást nem féltem.
– Igen, de a Kislakyak is bizonytalanok – mond ismét a jegyző, –
Kálmán anyjának parancsol, anyja apjának, s ez az egész járásnak;
s félek, mióta gróf Havasy e házhoz jött, Kálmán elégedetlen.
– De a mai történet, hisz Etelka mátkájának kiáltatott ki.
– Igen a kortesek által; és én tudom – tevé hozzá halkabban a
főjegyző, – nem mondom ugyan egész bizonyossággal, de nekem
úgy látszott, mintha az egész az alispánnénak nem egészen inyére
lenne.
– Igaza van – szólt a báró hangosabban, – magamnak is úgy
látszott, ép az alispánné mellett álltam, s az időről beszélgeténk,
mikor a kortesek Kálmánnal jöttek. Kedves nagyságom, mondám én,
midőn a kiabállást hallám – –
– Vigyáznunk kell – szólt Slacsanek, kinek a báró az egészet úgy
is már kétszer elmondá – mert bizony rosszul állunk.
– A mi engem illet – válaszolt alázatosan mosolyogva Krivér – a
teins úr ismeri buzgóságomat, azért legalább jót állok, hogy az
ellenfél táborában semmi történni nem fog, miről pártunkat nem
tudósítom.
– És ki az ellenfél terveit ismeri – szólt a báró vigan összecsapva
kezeit, – az félig megnyerte a csatát.
– Oh csak csupa ily nemesek volnának megyénkben, mint a
mieink! – sóhajta Slacsanek úr. – Ha nem úgy szavaznak, mint
akarom, elveszem földjeiket, s azután koldulni mehetnek új
alispánjokhoz, ilyenek már arra valók, hogy velök restauráljon az
ember.
 Az érdekes beszélgetés az alispán által szakasztatott félbe, ki az
egész társaságot, melyből immár senki sem hiányzott, az asztalhoz
hivá, hol a conferentiának kezdődni kelle.
Magyaroknak irok, s miután e hazában alig van, ki gyűlést nem
látott volna, s még dámáink is egy idő óta szivesen eljárnak
üléseinkbe, hol hazai dolgainkra kissé más módon nézhetnek le,
mint különben tenni szokták, nem szükséges, hogy ez ünnepélyes
jelenet hosszasabb leirásába ereszkedjem. Egy ülés a másikhoz
hasonló. Középen zöld asztal. Körülte néhány táblabiró, kiknek
némelykor véleményeik, többnyire érdekeik homlokegyenest
ellentétben állnak; míg a nagyobb rész, érdek nélkül firkálva előttük
fekvő papirosokon, csak azért vesz részt a tanácskozásban, mert a
zöld asztalnál ülni dicső, s mi több:

Egy kis ülés a hazáért,

Meg nem árt;

vagy legalább sokkal kevesebbé, mint ha érte dolgozunk; ez képe

majdnem minden üléseinknek, s habár az, melyre a táblabirói kar
Réty házában összegyült, más gyűlésektől annyiban különbözött,
hogy minden lárma- s zavar nélkül ment végbe, a nagyságos
asszony jelenléte ezt természetessé teszi.
Miután az ülés Réty által szokás szerint megnyittatott, ő maga
első, Krivér főjegyző második alispánnak közakarattal kijeleltettek, s
minden jelenlevőnek, mint ily conferentiáknál szokás, vagy maga,
vagy valamely közel rokona számára hivatal igértetett, báró Sóskuty
pedig minden választandó tisztviselő fölött hosszú magasztaló
beszédet mondott, melyet csak az nem tartott remeknek, kiről benne
szó nem volt, azon módok kerültek most szőnyegre, melyek által a
szükséges többség megszerzendő.
Minthogy e tárgyban teins Sáskay úr oly jeles ismereteket
szerzett magának, s ez iránti nézeteit irásba foglalni sziveskedett, az
elnök véleménye szerint czélirányos volna a tisztelt urat e jeles
munka fölolvasására kérni; mire az indítvány elfogadtatván, ez nem
kevés köhécselés s mentegetődzés után megkezde előadását, mely
alatt Karvaly, hihetőkép, hogy megvetését mutassa, szemeit
behunyá, sőt később hortyogni is kezdett.
Előttem fekszik az egész munka, melynél, büszkén mondom,
kevés kitünőbb angol reportot ismerek, s mely ugyanazon formában
szerkesztve, mint ezek, Sáskay úrnak örök dicsőségére szolgál. De
nehogy olvasóim, főkép azoknak szebbik neme, e könyvet eddig
olvasva, Karvaly példáját kövessék, s mi irónak legiszonyúbb
csapás, szép szemeiket hibáim fölött behunyják: én csak azokat
szedem ki az irott tizenkét ívből, mik közelebbről a megyét illetik.
– Szokásban van Angliában – így kezdé fölolvasását Sáskay, kit
az angol nemzet tiszteletében senki fölül nem mult, – hogy mielőtt
valamely tárgy a parliament tanácskozásai alá kerül, annak
megvizsgálása előbb mindig néhány férfira bizatik, hogy az iránti
véleményöket tanácskozási könnyítés végett egy úgynevezett
reportban beadják. Ez az út, melyet ő is követni akar, pedig tizenkét
okból, melyeknek csak utósóját említjük mint legfontosabbat, mely
az angol s magyar alkotmány közti hasonlóságban fekszik.
A két alkotmány közötti rokonság tény, melyen, hazánkban
legalább, kevesen kétkednek, s habár az angol s a magyar magna
charta, némelyek szerint csak úgy hasonlítanak is egymáshoz, mint
némely nagyobb családokban az idősb s fiatalabb testvérek, kik
közül az első minden értéket, a másik csak fényes czimet bir örökül:
ki tagadhatja, hogy mindkettő a tizenharmadik század gyermeke,
hogy a hét évvel fiatalabb magyar nagy levél szinte nem sokkal jobb
király által adatott ki, mint minő az angol földetlen János vala, s hogy
némely kicsiségeken kívül, minő például: sajtószabadság,
esküdtszékek, ministeri felelősség, jogegyenlőség stb. egyéb
fődolgokban nincs, mit az angoloktól irígyelhetnénk. Gazdag
clerusunk, az irott s nem irott jog közötti különbség, pereink
hosszúsága, ügyvédeink drágasága, biróink hatalma, sőt csak
keresni kell s magok az úgynevezett «rotten borough»-ok sem
fognak hiányzani. Hogy a dolog ezen állásában oly kitűnő férfiú, mint
Sáskay, szép párhuzamot vonhatott, s hogy minden hallgatóit
meggyőzé, magában világos; s habár később, midőn elvként
fölállítván, hogy az angol mint a magyar alkotmány alapja a szabad
választás, erről kezde beszélni s e tárgyban minden nagy iró
nézeteit fölhozá – néhányan Karvaly példáját követni kezdék:
legalább mély csend uralkodott az egész olvasás alatt, melyet csak
egy erős «halljuk» szakaszta félbe, midőn e szavakkal «már a mi
jelen helyzetünket illeti» egyenesen Taksony-megye jelen állapotára
fordítá figyelmét.
– Két dolog van a világon – így folytatá az olvasó – melyért
minden magyar nemes ember, s így e megye nemessége is, melynél
én magyarabbat nem ismerek (helyes!) leginkább lángol: a vallás s
hazája. – A szónokot hosszú «Éljen!» szakítja félbe. – Azaz mint
népszerűbb kitétellel mondani szoktuk: először az, hogy a megye
pecsétje a mi kezünkben legyen; másodszor: hogy a régi alkotmány
szerint magyar nemes ember semmire se fizessen. Minden
lelkesedés, mely nem e nemes kútfőből ered, mely nem e czélok
egyikének elérésére irányoztatik, hála a magyar nemesség józan
szellemének; tartós nem lehet, s habár egyes csábítóknak sikerült a
magyar népet – mert hisz alkotmányos értelemben csak a
nemességet nevezhetjük így – egy időre önérdekei ellen vezetni, a
tapasztalás győzelmesen megmutatta, hogy ezen abnormis,
szörnyeteg állapot nem tarthat soká, s hogy a magyar nemesség,
mely szabadságát vérével szerzé a csatamezőn, vérrel tudja azt
megőrzeni a békés tanácskozás szent termeiben is, mire újabb
időkből sok dicső példát hozhatnék fel. Igen uraim! – olvasá
lelkesedve tovább a szónok – nagy dolgok történtek. – S itt több
esetek adatnak elő, hol az úgynevezett subversiv párt, mely az
alkotmányt, mint látszik, azért akarja feldönteni, hogy romjaiból
vasutainak töltéseket csináljon, a házi adó vagy más kérdésekért
ledorongoltatott; melyek rendkívüli tetszéssel fogadtatván, midőn
Sáskay elmondá, hogy ily példák után Taksony-megye rendei
hátrább maradni nem fognak, hogy ők is utólsó csepp véröket, sőt
végső filléröket is föláldozni készek alkotmányukért, erre nem szűnő
éljenek következtek.
Mi akarjuk a szabadságot! Igen, tekintetes conferentia, mi akarjuk
a sajtószabadságot, a kereskedési, lelkiösmereti szabadságot;
akarjuk mindenek fölött, hogy megyei autonomiánk oly botrányos
beavatkozásoktól megőriztessék, milyen például az, hogy minap a
helytartó tanács az úrbéri telkeken lakó nemesek adóját beszedetni
rendelé; mi akarjuk a haladást, akarunk bankot, melyből négy
perczentre minden nemes pénzt kaphasson, vasutakat, csatornákat,
muzeumot s polytechnikumot; mi akarjuk a nemzetiséget, de akarjuk
azt is, hogy a szabadság, habár nagyobbá válik, azért mégis nemes
maradjon s féktelenséghez ne vezessen; hogy az egész nemzet
haladjon, de úgy, hogy a rend, melyben az most áll, meg ne
zavartassék; hogy a magyar nemzetiség virágozzék, de miután e
nemzetiség egyedüli képviselője a nemes, vele gyarapodjék a
nemesség is. A ki velünk ezt nem akarja, a ki jogainkat minden ajku
s származatu lakósokra kiterjesztvén, szabadságunkat (mely mint a
papiros pénz, ha szerfölötti mennyiségben kibocsátva minden kézen
forog, elveszti becsét) – meg akarja semmisíteni; ki oly politikai
tévtanokat hirdet, mint hogy vasutaink s bankunk, adómentességünk
s az ősiség eltörlése nélkül nem létezhetnek, az ellenünk, et hunc tu
Romane caveto!
– Miután a törvény, mely által az úrbéri telkeken lakó
nemesemberek adó alá vettettek, e megyében, hála az égnek, még
foganatba nem vétetett, a nemesség legnagyobb része velünk
egészen egy értelemben van, s mert Bántornyiék mindig a házi adó
fölvállalása s más ehhez hasonló tárgyak mellett küzdenek, az első s
legfőbb mód, melylyel a nemességet magunkhoz köthetjük, abban
áll: hogy Bántornyi alkotmány-ellenes czélzatait a nemesség között,
mennyire lehet, hirdessük.
– Persze – szakítá félbe Sáskayt a báró, ki tovább nem türheté a
hallgatást – ez könnyű és jó volna, ha Bántornyiék nem azt hirdetnék
a nemesség között, hogy pártuk nem a szegény nemeseket, hanem
csak az urakat akarja adó alá vetni, s hogy ők ez által temérdeket
nyernek.
– Bolondság – mond egy öreg táblabiró félig álmosan, – föl kell
világosítani a nemességet.
– Hisz az a baj, hogy teszik – viszonzá a báró, – magam láttam a
számadást, melylyel korteskednek. A püspökre esik 50,000 forint
minden évben, gróf Kőváryra 30,000 s így tovább; a teins úr –
folytatá Rétyhez fordulva – 5000 forinttal áll ott, az egyes nemesek
évenkint egy-egy garast fizetnek és az utak oly jók lesznek, hogy a
gabona ára, mely most 5 frt, felmegy 7 frt 30 krra, magam láttam a
számadást, ők igen is fölvilágosítják a nemességet!
– Hát jobban kell fölvilágosítani – szóla Sáskay, – majd egy
számadást bocsátunk ki, melyben a püspökre 1000, s minden
nemesre 100 forint esik, s a gabona ára 3 frtra száll.
– Nem hiszik, mondom, nem hiszik – válaszolá ismét a báró, – az
utósó nemesi adókivetésnél sem esett több egy-egy sz.-vilmosira
egy garasnál és –
– Nem mondtam – vága közbe Slacsanek, – hogy az ily
kivetésnek rossz következései lesznek? Mikor az erzsébeti pusztára
– melynek felét grófom, felét más nemesek birják – reánk 137 frt 30
krt, s a másik félre csak 11 frt 36 krt vetettek, talán százszor
mondtam, hogy rossz következései lesznek, mert a kisebb
nemességet inkább ijeszteni, mint csábítani kell az adóhoz, de akkor
–
– Talán bizony szemrehányásokat akarna a teins ur tenni? – szólt
egy táblabiró mérgesen az asztal másik oldalán.
– Igen, mintha nem volna igazságos, hogy a ki többet bir, többet
fizessen – mond egy másik.
– Ha t. i. mindketten nemes emberek – jegyzé meg helyesen
Nyúzó – az egész dolog, hogy is nevezted akkor Sáskay?
– Progressiv adó.
– Igen, progressiv adó, a legliberalisabb dolog a világon; a
franczia forradalom alatt találták föl.
– Én azt mondom – szólt hangosabban az előbbi mérges
táblabiró – hogy az erzsébeti adókivetés helyesen történt.
– És én azt, hogy nem helyesen – kiáltott föl neki tüzesedve
Slacsanek.
 Mire az egész társaság «helyesen történt, nem helyesen,
igazság, rablás, törvénytelenség, halljuk! rendre! halljuk az alispánt!»
kiáltások között, irtóztató lármával fölugrott az asztaltól, hová az
alispán, Sáskay s főkép a báró, hosszú békéltetés után végre a
nagyobb részt ismét összegyűjté.
– Ne szóljunk a multakról – mondá az alispán végre, miután a
rend helyre állott. – Megengedem, hogy az erzsébeti adókivetés a
méltóságos gróf által terhesnek tartatott, de ő méltóságának s főkép
általánosan tisztelt képviselőjének honszeretetök- s
nagylelküségöknél fogva, méltányolni fogják a körülményeket,
melyek akkor ez adó kulcsát javaslák, s a jó ügy tekintetéből,
melynek akkor e megyében máskép többséget szerezni nem
lehetett, nem fogják rossz néven venni, hogy reá ez egy alkalommal
nagyobb adót vetettünk, annyival inkább, mert bizony e szegény
nemesség alig birja a terheket, melyek egy idő óta reá nehezednek.
Miután Slacsanek ezen alázatos szavak által megengesztelődve
nemeslelkűen kijelenté, hogy minden ez alkalommal mondott
helytelen kijelentéseket rossz néven nem vesz; az alispán
megköszönve a bárónak igen finom tapintatra mutató
figyelmeztetését, indítványt tett, hogy a Bántornyi ellen indítandó
agitátiónál inkább az emeltessék ki, hogy pártja a portiót,
katonatartást, forspontot s utcsinálást akarja a nemességre vetni.
– Igazság – szólt egy ügyvéd nevetve, – ha a nemességet
kapacitálni nem lehet, csak diákul kell hozzá szólani, mint az egykori
paraszt mondá: semmitől nem borzad inkább, mintha deákul szólnak
hozzá; a három szó, melyet ismer: conscriptio, portio és contributio,
maga lázadást csinálhat köztök.
– Ne méltóztassék a dolgot tréfának venni – emlékezteté Krivér,
– a névtől sok függ, példákból tudjuk, hogy sok dolog, mely egy
megyében megbukott, megváltoztatott névvel keresztül ment s
viszont.
– Igen s főkép tiszujításnál – szóla közbe a báró – mathematikai
igazság, hogy kinek két szótagú neve van, fél annyi kortessel
választathatik meg mint az, kinél négy szótagot kell kiáltani.
 – Úgy tartom, eltérünk a tárgytól – emlékeztete Réty; – ha a
tisztelt conferentiának úgy tetszik, Sáskay úr meg fogja jegyezni,
hogy a nemesség leginkább az iránt leszen fölvilágosítandó, miként
Bántornyi pártja nem annyira nemesi adót, mint valóságos
contributiót, s portiót akar behozni (általános helyeslés). És most
menjünk tovább.
Sáskay, a Bántornyi megrontására tett indítványt följegyezvén,
most minden erők concentratiójának szükségéről kezde olvasni, s
miután előadá, hogy minden centralisatió magában ugyan kártékony
s veszélyes, tisztujításnál azonban, ha sikert akarunk,
elkerülhetetlen: az egész megyében egy fő-, minden járásban egy
alválasztmány kinevezését hozá indítványba, melyek egymásközt
összeköttetésben levén, a választás czélszerű elrendezésével
megbizassanak.
Ez indítvány, mint Magyarországban minden, miáltal a hivatalok
száma neveltetik, közhelyesléssel fogadtatott, s félórányi kissé
lármás tanácskozás után a hivatalok be is töltettek, természetesen
nagy részben a jelenlevőkből és pedig, mi sokkal csudálatosabb, a
nélkül, hogy halálos gyűlölségek támadtak volna, öt vagy hat esetet
kivéve, hol egyesek rossz néven vevék, hogy csak az
alválasztmányok tagjainak s nem elnökeinek választattak. Réty
kinyilatkoztatván, hogy a központi választmány elnökletét magára
nem vállalhatja, mert mint kijelelt a választásra semmikép befolyni
nem akar, minden jelenlevők egyhangú fölkiáltásával teins
Slacsanek úr választatott e terhes, de szép hivatalra.
– Még egy alázatos indítványom van – szóla a választások
végeztével báró Sóskuty: – minden szép és jó a világon az asszonyi
nemtől veszi eredetét; az asszony azon teremtés, mely stb. stb.,
mely okoknál fogva azt indítványozom, hogy minden járásban egy
pártfogó asszonyság választassék.
Általános helyeslés fogadá e lovagias indítványt, mi azonban
nem zárta ki, hogy az még kilencz egymást követő szónok által
különösen motiváltassék, s csak miután az asszonyi nem minden
érdemei elsoroltattak, lehete tovább menni.
 Ezek után Sáskay egyes intézkedésekre irányzá hallgatóinak
figyelmét, melyeket azonban, miután a tisztujítások tactikájához
tartoznak, s olvasóim nagy része által nemcsak ismertetnek, hanem
néha alkalmaztattak is, röviden említeni elég leend. A főbbek közé
tartozik, hogy azon két hid, melyen az egyik ellenséges járás
nemessége a városba jön, tökéletesen kijavíttassék, de úgy, hogy
azok szétszedetvén, a tisztujítás előtti napokban oly állapotban
legyenek, hogy rajtok senki át ne mehessen. Ugyanez javasoltatott a
tiszai hidasokra nézve is, mert valamint természetes, hogy az illető
vámtulajdonosok, szeretett szomszédaik bátorságáról gondoskodva,
a hidasokat s kompokat épen most javíttatják ki, úgy azt sem veheti
senki rossz néven, ha az ácsmester ennyi munka között a kijavítást
csak épen a tisztujítás utáni napon végezhetné el.
A második nagyobbszerű sakkvonás abban állt: hogy mindazon
korcsmárosok s husvágók, kiknél az ellenfél élelmeit venni fogja,
lehető legrosszabb bor s megromlott hus kiszolgáltatására
birassanak, mi kevés megvesztegetés mellett annál könnyebbnek
látszott, minél nehezebb lenne, minden tárgyismerők ítélete szerint,
ugyane személyeket az ellenkezőre megvesztegetni. Ezen
rendszabály kivitelét egészen Nyúzó főbiró úr vállalta magára, arra
kötelezvén magát, hogy az említett egyedeket, kik nagy részint
nemtelenek, sőt zsidók, azon esetre, ha az ellenfél fenyegetései által
terrorizálva jó bort mérni merészlenének, czélszerű eszközökkel
rendre fogja utasítani.
Jöttek ezután több kisebb, a tisztujítási strategiához tartozó
fogások, melyek egyenkint csekélyeknek látszanak, de együtt véve
sokszor roppant hatást szülnek. Ilyen: hogy a főispánt fogadó
küldöttségek többsége ezen pártból neveztessék ki; az ellenfél
legtulzóbb, s legostobább tagjai pedig azért csatoltassanak hozzá,
hogy ő excja, ki három év óta a megyében nem volt, mindjárt a
dolgok való állásáról tiszta fogalmat nyerjen. Czélszerűnek látszott
ezen kívül még az is, ha ő excja fáklyás zenével tiszteltetik meg, s
az öreg Körmöczy tanácsosnak pedig, ki ő kegyelmességével
barátsági, sőt mint sokan hiszik, oly viszonyban áll, melynek
évenkinti kamatait szedné, azaz, ha a fiscalis azokat rendesen
behozná, macskazene rendeztetik, mi a kedélyek ingerültsége
mellett, mely Bántornyi emberei közt Körmöczy ellen létezik, ki
mindig a Rétyekhez szított, nehéz nem lehet. Ha ezekhez még ő
excja titoknoka jól informáltatik, a terem jókor elfoglaltatik, s a
főispán mellé néhány hű s jóhangú ember rendeltetik, a sikeren
kétkedni nem lehet. Minek elősegítésére azonban kivánatos, hogy
bizonyos, Sáskay által elsorolt, nagy befolyású kortesek vagy
Bántornyi táborából elcsábíttassanak, vagy legalább árthatási
szándékukban megakadályoztassanak; mire azonnal több jelenlevő
ajánlkozott, kik e veszedelmes ellenek lekenyerezését egymásközt
föloszták.
Csak egy vala még hátra, mi alkotmányos tekintetben talán
kevésbbé érdekes, de tisztujításoknál mindig a legnagyobb
figyelemmel tárgyaltatik, t. i. a pénz. Mielőtt Sáskay a tisztujítási
budgetet fölolvashatá, az egész társaságban különös nyugtalanság
vala észrevehető. Egy táblabíró véletlenül órájára nézve elbámult,
hogy már kilencz, s azonnal akart befogatni, mitől ő és mások, kik
példáját követni akarák, csak nehezen tartóztathattak vissza. A báró
fejét kezére támasztva főfájás ellen panaszkodott. Egy ügyvéd s a
vastag Tüskey pedig úgy vélekedtek, hogy az kétségen kívül a
szerfölötti forróságtól jő, s ezért a folyosóra mentek, míg egy ügyész,
ki a sok munkában szinte elszédült, indítványba hozá, hogy a
tanácskozás, melynek figyelemmel követésére a többség
elégtelennek érzi magát, a jövő, talán mához egy hétre tartandó
ülésre tétessék át.
Slacsanek tekintélye, Nyúzó káromkodásai, melyekhez Rétynek
azon észrevétele, hogy ha a tisztelt gyülekezet e fontos tárgyról ma
nem rendelkezik, jobb minden tisztujítási tervekkel fölhagyni, miután
a korteskedés megkezdését továbbra halasztani nem lehet; s főkép
Sáskay, ki siralmas hangon rimánkodott, hogy csak hallgassák meg
tervét, s látni fogják, hogy annak kiviteléhez pénz nem kell, végre
ismét székeikre hozá vissza a társaságot, és Sáskay tovább olvasá
memoireját.
Azon igaztalan panaszok között, melyekkel Magyarország
vádoltatik, egyik fő helyet foglal el a vesztegetés. A ki
tisztujításainkban tettleges részt vett, tudja ugyan, hogy az esetek
sokkal számosabbak, hol nemes társaink e vétekre nézve
szenvedőleg, mint azok, hol cselekvőleg lépnek föl, sőt hogy minden
tisztujítást megelőző tanácskozásokban mihelyt pénzbeli
adakozásokra jön a szó, sok egyébként szép előadású szónok
hallgatni szokott; azonban miután a fönemlített előítélet létezik, csak
helyeselhetem, hogy Sáskay annak megmutatásával kezdé
előadását, hogy a tisztujításra kivánt pénz semmi esetre sem a
nemesség megvesztegetésére leszen fordítandó.
– Minden ország – így okoskodott Sáskay, – hol szabad
választások léteznek, arról gondoskodott, hogy e fontos jog
független, azaz oly egyedekre bizassék, kik anyagi szükségeken
fölül állanak. Miután törvényeink erről nem gondoskodtak és
számos, egészen vagyontalan nemest ruháztak föl választási
képességgel, egyeseknek kell pótolni e hiányt s gondoskodni, hogy
a választók, legalább míg nehéz foglalatosságukban eljárnak,
minden szükségen fölül emeltessenek; mi természetesen csak úgy
történhetik, ha addig, míg a korteskedés s maga a tisztujítás tart,
étel, italról gondoskodva van, s néha egy pár forint adatik kárpótlásul
azoknak, kik nemesi kötelességök teljesítése által munkát mulasztva
kárt szenvednének. Hogy mindez nem megvesztegetési szándékból,
hanem ép azért történik, hogy a választóknak teljes függetlensége
biztosíttassék, világosan bizonyítja azon tapasztalás, hogy
valahányszor ez intézkedés valamely párt által elmulasztatik, a
választók nem követhetve szivök indulatát, az ellenfél jelöltjeinek
szokták adni szavazatukat. S például a jelen esetekben nem
gondoskodni bizonyos tanyákról, melyeken a jó elvek mellett
becsoportozó nemesség tartásáról gondoskodva legyen, nem volna
más, mint nemes társainkat arra kényszeríteni, hogy Bántornyi
tanyáihoz menjenek; mi kétségkívül egyike lenne a legszörnyebb
veszélyeknek, melyek a megyét, sőt a hazát érhetik.
A báró s Tüskey itt nagyot sóhajtának; Karvaly bajszát pödörve
mondá: – csak próbáljon valaki Bántornyi tanyájára menni! – s
azután valamit a teremtésről kezde beszélni, mit azonban, mert
alantabb hangon szólt, nem egészen értheténk.