There's No Time Like the Present!

The idea for this paper first appeared in December 2004 in Priene, that most intimate and
beautiful of Hellenistic cities on Turkey's Aegean coast, a jewel in the crown of Asia Minor. I
was visiting with students and friends from the Beshara School at Chisholme House. One of
our number was an archaeologist from Oxford who had never visited this city before, and he
saw what generations of archaeologists, tourists and eager schoolchildren before him had
sought, though overlooked: a genuine ancient Greek coin lying masked by dirt on the ground.
He was, of course, absolutely delighted (and, I hasten to add, acted impeccably and handed it
over to the Turkish authorities!). As I sat in the ruins of the Temple to Athene, enjoying the
glorious December sun and the beauty of the site, I contemplated what a superb and gracious
gift of the moment this was for him, particularly since he is an archaeologist, and I asked
myself: if I were to receive a gift of the moment a present of the present from Priene,
what would I like it to be? And I thought: I would like to have illuminated that facet of
consciousness that is represented by the worship of Athene... a thought which opened up the
idea for this paper.
Being is Single and Indivisible. Consciousness is Single and Indivisible. It 'contains' all Its own
infinite possibilities of Self-expression all possibilities of Its own becoming not as a physical
container contains something other than itself, but with the containment of identity. It is all Its
own possibilities, just as the ocean is every possible configuration that the water may take,
and just as a movement of consciousness is consciousness. Hence It is Single, Indivisible and
Infinite: perhaps you could say that It is Uniquely and Infinitely One.
This is non-time, a state of Absoluteness which contains Its own relativity. Please note the
difficulty with the words "This is non-time". To the extent that our minds operate within the
realm of relativity, the words 'non-time' encourage us to begin with a premise that there is
such a thing as time, then to negate it, or to implicitly assume that there was a time when
time was not. However, non-time is not an absence of time; it is the Reality of Timelessness:
ever here, Total Presence. And that Total Presence is totally present, now, whether we are
aware of it or not, which is why it is true to say that there is no time like the present.
Time belongs to the relative image of absoluteness: absoluteness relativised so that all those
infinite possibilities of Self-expression can be expressed, each according to its own nature, and
the treasury of the beauty of that possibility be unlocked and brought forth. This is necessarily
a relative image because only Totality is real. Any part of it, by itself, is an illusory image
drawn from that Totality. For any unique possibility to be expressed to be exteriorised or

manifested and show its own uniqueness, it cannot by definition also exteriorise the
uniqueness of another possibility. That prerogative belongs uniquely to that other possibility.
So that Single Reality of non-time, which is both beyond limitation or definition and equally the
origin of all possible limitations and definitions, appears uniquely as the image of each
possibility without being limited by it. The interior unity reveals Itself as an exterior
multiplicity. And it is this exterior multiplicity, the infinite images of the possibilities inherent in
the unity, that are dressed in space and time to appear as the relative world, or the world of
witnessing, in which we find ourselves.
But whatever the multiplicity of appearances, in Reality there are no separate things, people or
events, separated by time or distance or anything else, because Reality never divides. The One
and the Many never stood apart, except in our thought. There is never a time or a place in
which the Whole is not present with all of Its infinite possibilities.
The endless self-revelation of the One in the form of Its own possibilities is, from the point of
view of the possibility, the bringing into existence of that possibility with all its infinite states.
From the point of view of that possibility, this is the gift of Being, perpetually renewed in each
instant. Although we might use the words "the gift of Being", we must remember that Being is
never 'given' in the sense that it is transferred to the possibilities: it remains that the One
endlessly reveals Itself in their forms, according to their receptivities. Each instant, each
moment, is the becoming of the Singular Reality. So from their point of view or better, our
point of view, because each of us is no other than one of those infinite possibilities there is
literally no time like the present. Our existence does not extend in time, but is renewed at
each moment, and our present moment is the gift, or present, of existence in the form of our
possibility. Thus for both senses of the word 'present' 'present' as 'now' and 'present' as 'gift'
there is no time like the present: not because the present exists in time, but because time
exists in the Present.
Being is Single and Indivisible. Consciousness is Single and Indivisible. That single
consciousness, that ultimate ground of all that finds and all that is found,[2] is equally the
consciousness of the complete and perfect image of that Reality: the perfect human, al-insan
al-kamil, Universal Man, where the word 'Man', both in Arabic and English, is used in its nongendered sense as referring to the perfect potential of the human. This perfection belongs to
every human being by virtue of their origin, by virtue of the fact that the One Reality is, and
'we' are not: that is, we, the Many, have no existence apart from that Singular Reality of which
we are an appearance.
The consciousness of the perfect human is Reality's consciousness of Itself as One, Unique and
Infinite: as both absolute and relative. What distinguishes the human from all other images of
that Reality is that the human alone possesses in potential the synthetic nature. The interior of
the perfect human remains, and equally retains, the original, essential, unlimited and
unqualifiable potentialities of the state of Absoluteness, whilst by his/her exterior the human is
individuated in the relative universe. The perfect human is thus the isthmus which unites and
separates between absoluteness and relativity; between the necessary and the possible;
between interior and exterior; between the One and the Many. It is in the consciousness of the
perfect human that time and non-time intersect. Because s/he is present and alive both in the
world of time and equally in the Total Present, the perfect human is the place of manifestation
of non-time in time.

Just as the Timeless One is exteriorised as the Many clothed in the images of space and time,
so Its perfect Image, the singular Reality of Man, appears as the many images of humanity
throughout eras and, perhaps, places, known to us and unknown. These many images of
humanity are the detailing of the singular Reality of Man. Since Reality never divides and is
uniquely and infinitely One, the unique, individual image of humanity you or I or anyone else
and the global image of humanity all those who have ever lived, are living and will live
are both images of the same Singular Reality: Reality imaged by virtue of the One containing
the Many, or by virtue of the Many manifesting the One. But the One and the Many never
stood apart, except in our thought. The staggering variety of human cultures, beliefs,
languages, philosophies, scientific and aesthetic creativity, and so on, belong at once to the
multiple image of humanity extended over time, and equally to the single, all-inclusive
Consciousness present in every moment as the Reality of Man.
From our relative perspective that is, the projection of our reality into the realm of spacetime what distinguishes our experience of time is that time has an arrow, a direction. We can
move forwards or backwards in space, but we do not say the same of time. We owe our
modern scientific, relativistic understanding of time to Albert Einstein. The year 2005 was
nominated "Einstein's Year" because some of his most ground-breaking papers were published
in 1905; it seemed appropriate then to acknowledge this modern "Father of Time" in the
Society's 2005 symposium dedicated to "Time and Non-Time". He has given us, as it were, the
reverse image of the perspective brought by Ibn 'Arabi. Ibn 'Arabi looks 'down' from the
infinity of uniqueness towards its own relativity; whereas Einstein looks the other way, 'up'
from the relative to the infinite. He said, "Everything is relative, one to another, ad infinitum."
One of the consequences of Einstein's general theory of relativity is that time is an illusion.
The logician and mathematician Gdel proved that, according to general relativity, time travel
is possible.[3] And if it is possible to visit the 'past', then it hasn't 'passed' but is still present.
In other words, all moments of time co-exist. What, then, is the arrow?
The arrow of time can be seen as the unfolding, like the nautilus shell, of an interior potential
becoming exteriorised and actualised. Few people would argue that their own lives exhibit this
unfolding. Since the individual and the global images of humanity are each mirror to the other,
so equally the history of humanity exhibits an unfolding of potential becoming actualised. And
further, since the One and the Many never stood apart except in our thought, these two
images of humanity, individual and global, are "indissolubly interrelated". To quote Bulent
Rauf, founder and first Honorary President of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, "There is only
One Existence, therefore the unfolding of the destiny of the world as a global entity, and the
individual destiny, is indissolubly interrelated, and both must be seen as aspects of SelfRevelation of the Singular Reality."[4]
What is this destiny, this interior potential? How does it unfold and become actualised? As we
have seen, the perfect human is the place or better, non-place of Consciousness and Vision
whereby Reality reveals Its mystery to Itself, that is, reveals to Itself, through Love, the
infinity of Its own Beauty. The purpose of human existence, individual and global, is to become
realised in that consciousness and vision to become realised in a truly Universal Perspective.
For the completion of that realisation, the place, or the receptivity, must be prepared. Ibn
'Arabi uses the metaphor of polishing the surface of a mirror.[5] The surface of the mirror
must be polished in order to be able to reflect Beauty exactly as It is. To the degree that the
surface is not perfectly polished, the resulting image will deviate from the original. The image

will be of the subject, but according to the particularity of the surface. Anyone who has
entered a hall of mirrors at a funfair and seen themselves looking like an egg-timer can
appreciate this! When the degree of polishing is complete, the image is returned exactly as it
came. But, he informs us, the very possibility of being polished only exists because the
place already has the potential to become a perfect mirror. You could polish a ball of wool for
eternity and it would never give back your image. Because of the already existing potential for
perfection because of the ever-present Reality of Man humanity, individual and global, is
perfectible. And if we should doubt that this is the case, or even that it is possible, we can
remind ourselves of what is said in the Kernel of the Kernel: "the most important factor is to
be bound with certitude to the perfectibility of Man."[6]
The matter of preparation of the place, or of receptivity, is central to the question of time and
non-time. As has already been said, each instant, each moment, is the becoming of the
Singular Reality, in the forms of Its own possibilities. From this point of view, what is given, or
revealed, is unlimited, unqualifiable, and unrestricted. From the point of view of the
possibilities, the Singular Reality is revealed according to their receptivity and what has been
given is what they have been able to receive. To give an example, if I hold a thimble under a
waterfall, I am given a thimbleful of water; if I hold a cup I am given a cupful, and so on. If I
stand under the waterfall without a separate container, I am perpetually drenched. The perfect
potential of the human is to receive or contain the Real in the same way that the Real contains
Its own infinite possibilities of Self-expression not by one thing containing something else,
but with the containment of no-otherness. And as we saw with the example of the mirror, it is
because Man has this potential for perfect receptivity that his receptivity can be prepared.
This preparation has a direction in time because the reception of Meaning in one degree
prepares the place for further reception. This fact is represented in the structure of the Fusus
al-hikam. The revelation that is brought by each of the successive prophets, up to the
completion in Mohammed, is a revelation of the singular Truth according to the receptivity of
the people of that time and place. Through each setting of Wisdom a face of the All-inclusive
Truth is exteriorised. The All-inclusive Truth remains the reality of the interior, and this interior
Reality is present at all times and places for the one who has the eyes to see it. As is shown so
clearly in the Ottoman commentary on the summary of chapter headings at the end of the
chapter of Adam in the Fusus,[7] what is hidden in the interior of one revelation becomes
more explicit in the succeeding revelation, because the receptivity to receive the further
revelation has been prepared by the reception of the previous one. The 'process' by which the
receptivity is prepared is applicable to the whole of mankind, individually and globally,
everywhere.
Paradoxically and more importantly, the reverse is also true, and this again is shown clearly in
the Fusus.[8] The present not only prepares for the future, but it is acted upon by it. This
preparation and unfolding has a purpose and an aim: the full manifestation in the exterior of
what is already known in the interior. The unfolding of the nautilus shell is determined at each
turn by what it is to become, hence it unfolds as a nautilus and not a crab. This is the action of
non-time appearing in time. What is yet to become, in time, is already completely present in
the knowledge and consciousness of non-time, and the requirement for that to manifest in the
exterior brings about the conditions whereby it can manifest. To put it very simply, as Rumi
did, the tree comes into existence because of the fruit. As we saw earlier, the fruit is the truly
Universal Perspective that is the birthright of Universal Man. The tree, growing from seed to

fruit-laden bough, is the bringing about of the conditions, individually and globally, whereby
this can happen.
It follows that each era, each time, each moment, has a specificity to it in terms of what it can
exteriorise of the Reality of Universality; of the Reality of Man. In time, it follows from what
came before, and it prepares for and is acted upon by what is yet to come. Equally, the
moment is the reality of Timelessness, the Total Present. It is only in the singular
consciousness of the perfect human that these two are united and separated. It is said that
the perfect human "sees with both eyes". With one eye they see the timeless Reality; with the
other they see the requirements and necessities of the specific moment in life in which they
are situated.
We are born here, into the relative world, into a particular time, and that particular time has
its requirements and necessities in accordance with the global unfolding of the Reality of Man.
But the individual image of humanity and the global image of humanity are both faces of the
Self-Revelation of the Singular Reality. Hence it follows that any human being must be
inseparable from the era they are born into and indissolubly of their time, whilst at the same
time retaining the potential to be present in the Total Present, the reality of non-time.
The importance of this cannot be overemphasised. It is not just that we are conditioned by our
time, as so many have written. We are an image of our time, and our time is an image of
ourselves.
The fact that we are an image of our time, and our time is an image of ourselves, has different
aspects. One is that our possibility is already present in consciousness and in knowledge. The
requirement for that to manifest in the exterior brings about the conditions whereby it can
manifest. Thus the time into which we are born is nothing other than the matrix which is
necessary in order to allow our possibility to be fully expressed. Equally, we are the matrix
within which the possibility of the time can be expressed. So for us, there really is no better
time than the present.
Another aspect is that as individuations, we are inseparable from the era we are born into.
From the point of view of time, we cannot be of another era, of another time. We
cannot know a previous era in the way that those who lived then knew it, because they were
of it and it was of them. All we can do is look back through the eye of this era and interpret.
We cannot be of a previous era, subject to its determinations. We can only be, and must be, of
our time, receptive and responsive to what this particular time can manifest of Universality.
Rumi said "No matter how many words there may be concerning yesterday, oh my dear one,
they have gone, along with yesterday. Today it is necessary to speak of new things." To speak
of is to manifest, to bring out into the exterior, and what can be brought out today is not the
same as yesterday. It is only by being receptive and responsive to what this time can manifest
of Universality, that we can fully realise the potential of ourselves and of the time.
This raises the crucial point: what we know our time to be is a reflection of our knowledge of
ourselves. And further, what we know ourselves to be has a profound effect upon the time.
Thus if one person follows the path of the perfection of humanity, so clearly exposed and
mapped by Ibn 'Arabi, this has an effect upon the receptivity of the time and hence on the
preparation of the place for what is yet to come.

In time, we stand between the Sealing of Mohammedian Sainthood by Ibn 'Arabi and the
Sealing of Universal Sainthood by Jesus. One way that we can look at these two faces of the
Seal of Sainthood is in terms of the individual image and the global image of humanity, in that
both are faces of the Self-revelation of the Singular Reality and are indissolubly interrelated.
Ibn 'Arabi manifested here, in the exterior relative world, the completion of the Meaning of
that Self-revelation in and as the Reality of Man, and he informs mankind of and from that
level. The era of the Seal of Universal Sainthood will manifest this completion in the global
image of mankind. Insofar as this time is preparing for and is prepared by what is to come,
the choice we make individually in resolving to come to know ourselves according to the
Reality of Man, or not, has profound consequences.
Now, at last, to return to where I began: the sun-soaked stones of the temple of Athene at
Priene, stones which have witnessed a number of eras come and go, and the thought that I
would like, as my gift of the moment, my present of the present, to have illuminated that facet
of consciousness that is represented by the worship of Athene. The temple in Priene is
dedicated to Athene Polias Athene of the City, one of the designations of Athene. Athene
represents the Divine Wisdom, the hagia sophia. The city is the symbol of the Heart. So
Athene Polias represents the Heart ruled by Divine Wisdom, which can be no other than the
place of the Reality of Man. The exterior revelation of this meaning was according to the
receptivity of the time and place. The fullness of the interior meaning became more explicit
through succeeding revelations, but was completely present at that time for those with the eye
to see it, the person or people of perfection.
So, to have that facet of consciousness fully illuminated would require two aspects, that of
non-time and time. It would require illumination of that meaning according to its timeless,
interior reality, and it would require illumination of its specific unfolding in time and of what
that worship really meant to the people of that time. And both of these are possible only by
virtue of the singular consciousness, which is Mankind's true estate.
As we have seen, by virtue of their own individuation, a person is inseparable from the era
they are born into and so cannot know a previous era in the way that those who lived then
knew it. But this is not the case for the one who has gone beyond having any fixed eye
(or 'ayn), any point of view fixed by his or her own particularity, but who has instead become
the place of the vision that Reality has of Itself. In this vision, those eras are present and
witnessed. What he sees in each era is nothing other than himself, nothing other than the
possibilities which are totalised by his own being and by his own consciousness.
To quote Sadr al-Din al-Qunawi,
When the Real gave me to witness this tremendous place of witnessing, I saw that its
possessor has no fixed entity and no reality... When you witness this, you will know that you
perceive each thing only through that thing itself and inasmuch as you are identical with each
thing. Thus you are the attribute of every attribute and the quality of every essence. In one
respect, your act is the act of every actor. Everything is the differentiation of your essence. In
this state you are the common measure of all things; you make their manyness one and you
make their oneness many by the constant variation of your manifestation within them.[9]

I should like to end with some lines of poetry from a contemporary writer, Ben Okri. I choose a
contemporary writer because for me, Ibn 'Arabi is a Living Meaning and what he exposes of
the Reality of Man is universally and timelessly true. The importance of his Meaning lies in its
universality and timelessness, and hence the possibility for every human being to realise the
truth of it, here and now, in our present to the end that both the individual and the global
images of humanity may become the place of manifestation of non-time in time.
The illusion of time will give way
To the reality of time...
And time present is made
Before time becomes present.
For all time is here, now
In our awakening.[10]

Notes
1. First presented at the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Symposium entitled "Time and Non-Time", held
in Oxford in May 2005.
2. Referring to the Arabic word wujud (being, existence) which has the root of 'finding'.
3. World Without Time: The Forgotten Legacy of Gdel and Einstein by Palle Yourgau (Allen
Lane, 2005).
4. Bulent Rauf, unpublished lecture, ca. 1975.
5. Medieval mirrors were made of metal, with a surface so highly polished that it became
reflective.
6. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of the Kernel of the Kernel by Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi
(Beshara Publications [1981]), p. 18.
7. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fusus al-Hikam by Muhyiddin Ibn
'Arabi (Oxford, 1989).
8. The Fusus details the bringing into complete manifestation, chapter by chapter, of the preexisting Mohammedian perfection and the Wisdom of all the prophets is looked at from that
perspective.
9. Nafaht, pp. 263-6, quoted by William C. Chittick in "The Central Point: Qnaw's Role in the
School of Ibn 'Arab", JMIAS XXXV (2004), p. 37.
10. Ben Okri, Mental Fight, Phoenix House, 1999, p. 67.

Ibn 'Arab on Proximity and Distance

Chapters 260 and 261 of the Futht
by Mohammed Rustom
This paper will offer a reading of Ibn 'Arab's teachings on the important Sufi concepts
of qurb (proximity) and bu'd (distance), as laid out in chapters 260 and 261 of his
monumental al-Futht al-makkiyya (The Meccan Illuminations). In these relatively brief
chapters Ibn 'Arab engages his predecessors' meditations upon these concepts, while offering
his own unique interpretations of their meaning and significance. The hadth al-nawfilplays a
crucial role in Ibn 'Arab's teachings here, as do a number of key Qur'nic passages.
Ibn 'Arab on Proximity
Ibn 'Arab devotes chapter 260 of the Futht to proximity. The full title of the chapter is
indeed elusive: "On knowing proximity which is [referred to as] the performance of acts of
obedience, [and] which may be understood as the proximity of the distance of two bowlengths (the bows forming into a circle) or nearer [Q. 53:9]." 1 In the title itself Ibn 'Arab
provides a key to understanding the exposition of proximity that is to follow. Proximity is, from
one perspective, the result of religious devotions, which is to say that one may draw nearer to
God by virtue of carrying out those acts which He has prescribed in the Law. Yet, proximity
may also be understood as that which brings two "bows" or arcs together, each of which are
"separate" and "opposite" at one point. "The distance of two bow-lengths" alludes to the
famous verse in Srat al-najm, which recounts the Prophet's mi'rj, or ascension. The Qur'nic
verse specifies neither who was brought near, nor to whom he was brought near, and
the sra and hadth literature provide additional bits of information to help solve the puzzle.
While there may be differences of opinion as to what the opening verses of Srat alnajm mean, even when the information provided in the sra andhadth literature is taken into
consideration, the Sufis agree for the most part that these verses refer to the Prophet's
encounter with God.2 "The distance of two bow-lengths" is said to denote the proximity
between the encounterer and the Encountered, between subject and Object. If this encounter
was "or nearer" (aw adn), it is either because the meeting between the encounterer and the
Encountered was more intimate than human language can describe, or because the situation
of proximity itself breaks down the barriers between the two referents such that the encounter
of proximity is nothing but a union between the two. When two arcs are made to face one
another an oval or oblong circle is formed, resulting in a unification of two opposites. When
this happens the points on the circle which distinguish the coming together of the two
opposites can no longer be determined. A perfect oval or oblong circle is so whole that even if
the two sides which form it were brought together, they would no longer be opposites; they

would be united. They would be "nearer". Without elaborating on the unique and creative ways
in which the Sufi tradition has meditated upon this symbol, it will suffice to say that in the very
title of this chapter, Ibn 'Arab gives us an idea of where he wants to take his discussion on
proximity. Although the chapter will say nothing more about the image of proximity being "the
distance of two bow-lengths", the Shaykh's expositions on the nature of proximity and its
relationship between the Divine and the human will show that this is indeed a specific type of
proximity he has in mind, and is not open to everyone.
Proximity and the Perpetual Self-Disclosures of the Real
The Shaykh begins the chapter on proximity by explaining what he means by this technical
Sufi expression. While his opening statements in this chapter undoubtedly assume the truth of
the definitions of proximity given by his illustrious predecessors, his treatment of the topic is
unmistakeably more nuanced from the outset:
God says, We are closer to him than the jugular vein [Q. 50:16]. He described Himself in
terms of proximity to His servants. What is sought by "proximity" is nothing but its being an
attribute of the servant such that he is characterized by proximity to the Real in the way that
the Real is characterized by proximity to him." 3
Ibn 'Arab's opening statements reveal proximity as a reciprocal relationship between the
Divine and the human. All beautiful and noble character traits proceed from the Divine.
"Proximity" therefore marks a certain characteristic of God. When the Prophet said "Take on
the character traits of God",4with respect to proximity this would mean that our proximity to
God presupposes God's proximity to us. Ibn 'Arab returns to this point later on in the chapter.
In the following passage, it can clearly be seen that the Shaykh's understanding of God's
perpetual self-disclosures in all things colours his exposition of "proximity". Slightly towards
the end of chapter 260 he describes the situation of proximity as being the self-disclosures of
the Real in all things, whether they are material or immaterial:
We say that that Real is not absent from being with every servant whenever He discloses
Himself to him such that He becomes manifest to him in matter or in something other than
matter. If He discloses Himself to him in matter that is a form, proximity will follow that matter
in the congregation (majlis) of witnessing and the presence of vision. If He manifests Himself
to him in something other than matter, it is proximity of place and proximity of rank, such as
the proximity of the vizier, the judge, and the governor [to the king].5
In this passage Ibn 'Arab speaks of the ways in which proximity is experienced. It is, however,
only the gnostics who can witness God in the multiple forms of creation, and who can
therefore experience that proximity which is characteristic of all existence. This point is
clarified in an earlier passage, where Ibn 'Arab begins by quoting the Qur'nic verse, And He
is with you wherever you may be [Q. 57:4]:
It is just as He says, And He is with you wherever you may be. The Men (al-rijl) always seek
to be with the Real in whatever form He discloses Himself. And He perpetually discloses
Himself in the forms of His servants. The servant is with Him perpetually wherever He
discloses Himself just as the servant is perpetually characterized by "locatedness" (ayniyya).
So God is perpetually with him in whatever location he may be. Now the "locatedness" of the

Real is in whatever form He discloses Himself. The gnostics perpetually witness proximity
because they never cease witnessing these forms in themselves and other than themselves.
There is nothing but the self-disclosure of the Real.6
Since God describes Himself in the Qur'n both as being closer to man than his very life vein
and with His creatures wherever they may be, Ibn 'Arab understands this proximity to be
nothing but a reference to the entire "situation" of existence. God's "location" is where He is
to be found. Where He is to be found, He is surely "proximate". Hence, God is proximate
everywhere, since He discloses Himself everywhere. God continually and perpetually reveals
Himself through His infinite self-disclosures to their respective loci of manifestation, which are
nothing but the existentiations of the objects of God's knowledge, that is, of the immutable
entities (al-a'yn al-thbita). In other words, the loci of manifestation are the "things" which
make up reality. Since they are nothing but receptacles for the divine names, God is to be
found "in" them. He is thus proximate to them since they only exist by virtue of His selfdisclosures to them. Since this process happens continuously, the things in the universe are
where God is to be "found". The gnostics are therefore perpetually with Him wherever He is to
be found, which is every-where. As for those who are not gnostics, it can be surmised that
they are distant from God insofar as they do not witness Him everywhere.
Types of Proximity
While Ibn 'Arab defines proximity in ways which are truly unique to his metaphysical
worldview, he also devotes a good deal of time to responding to the earlier definitions of
proximity articulated by his Sufi predecessors. Like the Sufis before him, the Shaykh
understands proximity to be "the performance of acts of obedience".7 Presumably, it is in the
very fulfilment of the acts prescribed by God that proximity to God comes about. Indeed,
the hadth al-nawfil says that the servant does not approach God with anything more beloved
to Him than that which He has made incumbent upon him. Obeying God's command therefore
entails proximity to Him because fulfilling His requests brings about His love for us, and we are
resultantly drawn nearer to Him in loving obedience to His commands. Ibn 'Arab, as we shall
see, understands proximity in the truest sense of the term to be just this. But he makes it
quite clear that proximity through obeying God does not necessarily lead one to proximity to
God. Some people who worship God are rather "proximate" to their ultimate felicity in
Paradise, escaping damnation in the next life.8 This type of proximity, Ibn 'Arab reminds us,
is "the proximity of the masses (qurb al-'mma)"9 because God is worshipped in order to
attain the felicities of the next world. 10 From this perspective, every moment on earth
punctuated by the performance of religious devotions entails "proximity" since the worshipper
comes closer to his ultimate felicity. This is an important point to keep in mind when reading
Ibn 'Arab's typical way of describing the function of the names in the cosmos in relation to this
notion of proximity:
If it were not for the divine names and their ruling properties in the engendered things
(ahkmuh f al-akwn), the properties of "proximity" and "distance" would not be manifest in
the cosmos. For at each moment every servant must be proximate to a divine name and
distant from another divine name which does not have a ruling property over him at that
moment. If the ruling property of the name which presides over him at the moment and which
is characterized by proximity to him grants the servant escape from misery and the attainment
of felicity, that is the sought-after proximity according to the Folk.11

Ibn 'Arab consequently identifies three types of proximity. The first type is what he calls
proximity through knowing God by way of rational consideration (nazar).12 He notes that one
could either be right or wrong in this endeavour.13 The diligent one (mujtahid) is nonetheless
rewarded, in keeping with the Prophet's saying that the one who gives a correct legal opinion
receives two rewards, whereas the person who gives an incorrect legal opinion receives one
reward.14 The other type of proximity is to know God's oneness and divinity through
witnessing (shuhd), which we treated in the previous section. The third type of proximity is
proximity through performing acts which are mandatory and ones which are recommended,
both inwardly and outwardly.15 It is the third type of proximity, that is, proximity through
actions, with which Ibn 'Arab is most concerned.
Although the Shaykh speaks in the beginning of this chapter of proximity through the
performance of acts of religious devotion as being proximity to felicity, he goes on to discuss
another aspect of this type of proximity. It is here that he demonstrates how proximity
through the performance of religious actions also entails proximity to God. Yet an "action" for
Ibn 'Arab need not necessarily be "good" in order for it to bring one nearer to God. All actions
both good and evil are preceded by the "act of faith", which itself entails proximity:
As for proximity through actions, it refers to outward knowledge which is what is connected to
the bodily limbs and inward knowledge which is what is connected to the soul. The most
general of inward actions is faith in God and what comes from it by way of the teaching of the
Messenger, not knowledge of that. The "act" of faith ('amal al-mn) permeates all actions and
relinquishments, for no believer pursues an act of disobedience, be it outward or inward,
except that there is proximity to God in it because of his faith that it was an act of
disobedience. The believer never commits an evil action without his mixing a righteous action
with it.16
Ibn 'Arab states here that proximity to God is even a natural outcome of a believer's evil
deeds. Although a believer's actions may be evil, he nonetheless believes in their evil status.
Such actions are, therefore, both evil and righteous at one and the same time. In keeping with
Ibn 'Arab's understanding of the fundamental principiality of God's mercy, the evil act of the
believer not only entails proximity to God, but it actually opens up for him the possibility to
increase in proximity after repenting to Him.17
Ibn 'Arab places a great deal of emphasis on not only the "act" of faith, but also the "act"
itself, whether it be the performance of something mandatory or supererogatory. A religious
action can only be a means to attaining proximity because the entire act is in place in order to
gain proximity to God. Whereas one may believe that an action is wrong and nonetheless
perform it and yet still be characterized by proximity despite the performance of the evil act,
the performance of a pious act will bring the servant that much closer to God.18
Qurb al-Far'id and Qurb al-Nawfil
Earlier in this chapter Ibn 'Arab quotes one version of the famous hadth al-nawfil where God
says that those seeking proximity to Him (al-mutaqarrabn) approach Him with nothing more
beloved to Him than their performing what He has made incumbent upon them. Ibn 'Arab's
citation of the hadth al-nawfil ends as follows, "The servant continues to draw close to Me by
performing supererogatory acts of worship until I love him. And when I love him, I "become"

his hearing, sight, hand, and helper."19 In connection with his discussion on the hadth alnawfil Ibn 'Arab makes a fundamental distinction between two types of proximity. There is
the qurb al-far'id (proximity through obligatory works) and the qurb al-nawfil(proximity
through supererogatory works). In the following passage he states that the qurb alfar'id comes about through the observance of the acts commanded by God, which is preceded
by the fundamental obligation of faith in Him:
The validating condition for the acceptance of every obligatory act is the obligation of faith.
Then the servant may draw near by carrying out the obligatory acts. Whoever acquires its
fruits, he will "become" a hearing and sight for the Real. The Real [will then] will by his will,
without his knowing that his will is God's will for the thing to occur. But if he knows, then he is
not a possessor of this station. This is the scale of the performance of obligatory acts, which is
the most beloved thing through which one gains proximity to God.20
Then Ibn 'Arab goes on to explain the nature of the qurb al-nawfil:
As for the proximity [which is referred to as proximity through] supererogatory acts, God also
loves this, and God's love requires that the Real "become" the servant's hearing and sight.
This is its [i.e. love's] scale in the proximity of supererogatory acts. When the levels of love
are distinguished in the lover, the latter is called "lover" and "more beloved". 21
As the first of the above two passages reveals, it is through the performance of obligatory acts
that one may draw closer to God. The hadth al-nawfilstates clearly that there is nothing
more beloved to God than "fulfilling what I have made obligatory upon him." Thus, by
performing what God has made obligatory, one attains a level of proximity to God which
cannot be attained in any other way. And, unlike the last part of the hadth al-nawfilwhich
states that after performing the supererogatory acts God will "become" the servant's hearing,
sight, and hand, in the performance of those acts which God has made obligatory upon the
servant, it is actually the servant who will "become" God's hearing, sight, and hand. As
paradoxical as this may seem, there is a very good reason for why Ibn 'Arab says this. Before
venturing there, we must look at Ibn 'Arab's teachings on distance, which are intimately
related to the foregoing discussion. We will then be in a better position to understand his
distinction between the qurb al-far'id and thequrb al-nawfil.
Ibn 'Arab on Distance
Ibn 'Arab begins chapter 261 of the Futht, simply entitled "On knowing distance", by
observing that "distance" varies in accordance with changes in states. More importantly, he
says that distance comes about when proximity is not a quality of the servant, this being
essential because God Himself, as Ibn 'Arab explained in chapter 260 of the Futht, is
characterized by proximity. If the quality of proximity is not present "distance" is
present.22Ibn 'Arab then directly addresses the definition of distance provided by his Sufi
predecessors, hinting at his unique understanding of this concept:
What they have affirmed distance to be is, without doubt, distance. It is just that we add
matters to its definition, about which the community was ignorant because they were unaware
of that about which we speak. For they did not speak of it in relation to knowing distance [as
such], and instead had it enter into the discussion on proximity by saying that proximity is

union (ijtim') and distance is separation (iftirq), and that what relates to union does not
relate to separation, thus taking distance to be other than proximity.23
Distance is a complex concept for Ibn 'Arab. On the one hand it is the opposite of proximity
but on the other hand it is the "situation" of the slave, since he is distant from God by his very
nature. When an Arabic triliteral root structure is manipulated by reversing the consonants of
which it is comprised, closely connected semantic fields of meaning are created, as is seen in
the triliteral structures '-L-M, signifying "knowledge" and the structure '-M-L, signifying
"action". Although Ibn 'Arab does not draw attention to this fact in this chapter, it is worth
noting that the word for "servant" in Arabic is derived from the root '-B-D. When the first two
consonants of this root are reversed, we come up with the root for distance, B-'-D. There is,
therefore, an important relationship between distance from God and being a servant of God.
The definition of proximity as being the fulfilment of acts of obedience is valid. Yet the very
state of being obedient to God, of therefore being His slave, also entails distance:
The servant is not a master of the one whose servant he is. There is nothing more distant than
the servant's distance from his master. Servanthood is not on account of the state of
proximity. The servant is only "near" his master by virtue of his knowledge that he is the
master's servant. His knowledge that he is the master's servant is not servanthood itself.
Servanthood necessitates distance from the master, whereas knowledge of one's servanthood
necessitates proximity to the master. 24
Ibn 'Arab states explicitly that the fact of one's servanthood entails some type of distance
from God. In serving God, that is, in the act of servanthood, there must always be distance
between the performer and the one for whom the service is performed. Yet in order to
approach God distance must be relinquished. How can this be attained? Ibn 'Arab sees a
solution in Ab Yazd Bastm's (d. ca. 261/874) famous encounter with God:
The Real said to him in his heart, "O Ab Yazd, approach Me through that which I do not
have: lowliness and poverty." He negated these two qualities lowliness and poverty from
Himself. What is negated from Him is the quality of distance from Him.25
By approaching God with what He does not have, that is, by realizing one's ontological
poverty, one may relinquish that distance characteristic of servanthood which itself implies
some notion of duality. Ibn 'Arab further remarks on Ab Yazd's encounter:
Ab Yazd said to his Lord on another occasion, "How may I approach you?", to which the Real
replied, "Leave yourself and come!" When he left himself, he relinquished the ruling property
of his servanthood ('ubdiyya), since servanthood is itself distance from masterhood
(sayyda). The servant was distant from the Master and thus sought from Him, in lowliness
and poverty, proximity to Him through servanthood, and sought from Him, in leaving his self,
proximity to Him by taking on the character traits of God, which is what constitutes "union".26
Here, Ibn 'Arab seems to acknowledge that a type of proximity is still implied in servanthood,
which, as we shall shortly see, appears to correspond to the qurb al-nawfil. Yet insofar as
God is doing the act there can be no question of "servanthood". This is precisely what the qurb
al-far'id entails: the servant "becomes" God's hearing, sight, and hand because the servant is
"not". We saw above that Ibn 'Arab said that the servant's knowledge of his servanthood is

not actually servanthood. He also said that if the servant knows that God's will is actually his
will in the qurb al-far'id, he will not have attained its station. This is because in knowing one's
servanthood one is not "distant" as such, but one is still not faithfully fulfilling the qurb alfar'id. To know of one's servanthood is to be "aware" of one's self, which, although not
distance according to Ibn 'Arab, nonetheless does not entail that pure state of proximity
where the servant "becomes" God's hearing, sight, and hand. In a footnote to his translation
of one of the Mawqif of 'Abd al-Qdir al-Jaz'ir (d.1300/1883), Michel Chodkiewicz explains
the difference between the qurb al-far'id and the qurb al-nawfil:
If, in the qurb al-nawfil (obtained by the practice of supererogatory acts, where by definition
the will of the creature plays a part), Allh hears, sees ... in the place of the servant,
correlatively, in the qurb al-far'id (which the creature attains by manifesting his absolute
servitude that is to say, his radical ontological indigence by the accomplishment of
obligatory acts, where his own will is totally extinguished), it is, on the contrary, the servant
who "becomes" the hearing, the sight and hand of Allh. 27
Ibn 'Arab also said that the qurb al-far'id entails God willing through the believer. This is
because, in fulfilling what God has made obligatory upon him, the servant actually does not
have a will. It is God who has willed for him to fulfil his obligation towards Him, and, therefore,
He wills in place of the servant, and the servant, by virtue of no longer having a will,
"becomes" God's hearing, sight, and hand, for God is the true actor. In the qurb al-nawfil, the
reason God "becomes" his hearing, sight, and hand is because He acts out a reality that has
always been the case,28 but in which the servant has some "extra" role to play. Insofar as this
extra role played by the servant is his servanthood, his proximity to God through the nawfil is
also distance. That is, in the qurb al-nawfil which comes about through the performance of
those acts which are not mandatory he "wills" to perform. This is why Ibn 'Arab insists that
the qurb al-far'id is "more beloved" to God than the qurb al-nawfil:
God has attributed "more beloved" to Himself in His saying, "[My servant does not approach
Me] with anything more beloved to Me than performing what I have made obligatory upon
him." Concerning supererogatory acts, He said, "[My servant continues to draw close to Me by
performing supererogatory acts of worship until] I love him", without giving it superiority [i.e.
to the performance of obligatory actions].29
Elsewhere in the Futht Ibn 'Arab identifies the far'id with the ascending realization and
the nawfil with the descending realization.30 If the qurb al-far'id corresponds to the ascent
and the qurb al-nawfil corresponds to the descent, then we can understand why Ibn 'Arab
referred to the "arc ofqurb" in the very title of chapter 260: the arc of proximity is the infinite
interplay between the servant's proximity and distance. Although his servanthood allows him
to approach the Real, it is likewise that very thing which keeps him distant from Him. Yet, by
approaching God through the performance of obligatory actions, one "ascends" to the Real to
the point of proximity to Him, so long as one is unaware of his ascent, for his awareness of his
ascent would also be a type of distance. In other words, an acknowledgment of one's
proximity to the Real presupposes some type of knowledge of this fact, which necessarily
entails distance. Some of the early Sufis, such as Ab Sa'd al-Kharrz (d. 286/899) and alNiffar (d. 354/965), understood the highest stage of proximity to be silence.31 Although Ibn
'Arab does not explicitly say this here, it would seem that the qurb al-far'id entails silence
insofar as the servant does not know of his situation in the performance of the far'id; that is,

insofar as God wills through him, and he "becomes" God's hearing, sight, etc. To the extent
that the servant is "silent" in his ontological poverty in the far'id, he is proximate to God, or,
rather, He is proximate to Himself.
I would like to thank Todd Lawson and Ali Galestan for their comments on earlier drafts of this
paper.
Reproduced from the Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Volume 41, 2007.

Notes
1. Muhy al-Dn b. al-'Arab, Al-Futht al-makkiyya (Beirut: Dr al-dir, n.d.), II.258. As
Michel Chodkiewicz notes in the introduction to volume two of the very important collection of
translations from the Futht (The Meccan Revelations, vol. II, ed. Michel Chodkiewicz, trans.
Cyrille Chodkiewicz and Denis Gril, trans. from the original French by David Streight (New
York: Pir Press, 2004), p. 9), Ibn 'Arab will return to the theme of the two bow-lengths in
chapters 427 (IV.3940) and 439 (IV.513) of the Futht. However, Ibn 'Arab's treatment of
this topic in these chapters is beyond the scope of this paper, as are his other discussions
concerning his technical notion of the maqm al-qurba, elucidated in the Futht (i.e. chapters
73 and 161, both of which have been analyzed and partially translated by Cyrille Chodkiewicz
in the aforementioned volume, The Meccan Revelations, pp. 22942), and in his short treatise
entitled Kitb al-qurba, to be found in Ras'il Ibn 'Arab, ed. Mahmd Ghurb (Beirut: Dr aldir, d97), pp. 8895. For Ibn 'Arab's teachings on the maqm al-qurba, see also Michel
Chodkiewicz's Seal of the Saints: Prophethood and Sainthood in the Doctrine of Ibn 'Arab,
trans. Liadain Sherrard (Cambridge: Islamic Texts Society, d93), passim. In this paper I have
confined myself to an analysis of Ibn 'Arab's treatment of
theahwl of qurb and bu'd respectively, which should, at any rate, be studied independent of
his teachings on qurba in such a preliminary analysis as the one being offered here. It should
also be noted that, taken as a whole, William Chittick has translated more than a quarter of
chapters 260 and 261 of the Futht in his The Sufi Path of Knowledge: Ibn 'Arab's
Metaphysics of Imagination (Albany: State University of New York Press, d89), pp. 15152;
3d; 330; 36566, and in his article "Ethical Standards and the Vision of Oneness: The Case of
Ibn al-'Arabi", in Mystics of the Book: Themes, Topics and Typologies, ed. R.H. Herrera (New
York: Peter Lang, d91), p. 374. Although Chittick's translations helped me figure out several
difficult passages, all the translations from the Futht in this paper are my own.
2. For early Sufi teachings on the Prophet's Night Journey and Ascension, see Fredrick Colby
(trans. and ed.), The Subtleties of the Ascension: Early Mystical Sayings on Muhammad's
Heavenly Journey (Louisville, KY: Fons Vitae, 2006).
3. Ibn 'Arab, Futht, II.258.
4. For this teaching in Ibn 'Arab, see Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge, pp. 28388.
5. Ibn 'Arab, Futht, II.560.
6. Ibid., II.558.

7. For early Sufi definitions of proximity as being "the performance of acts of obedience", see
al-Shibl's saying in Muhammad b. Ibrhm al-Kalbdh,Al-ta'arruf li-madhhab ahl altasawwuf, ed. Mahmd Naww (Cairo: Makatabat al-Kulliyyat al-Azhariyya, 1969), p. 127;
Ab Nasr al-Sarrj, Kitb al-luma' f al-tasawwuf, ed. Kmil Mustaf al-Hindw (Beirut: Dr alKutub al-'Ilmiyya, 2001), p. 53; Ab al-Qsim al-Qushayr, Al-Rislat al-Qushayriyya, ed. 'Abd
al-Karm al-'At'(Damascus: Maktabat Abanfa, 2000), p. 157.
8. Ibn 'Arab, Futht, II.558.9. Ibid.10. Ibid.11. Ibid., II.55859; see also II.560.
12. Ibid., II.559.13. Ibid.14. Ibid15. Ibid.16. Ibid.
17. Ibid. For Ibn 'Arab's understanding of repentance, see Atif Khalil, "Ibn 'Arab on the Three
Conditions of Tawba". Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations 17/4 (2006): 40316.
18. Ibn 'Arab, Futht, II.559.
19. Ibid. As Michel Chodkiewicz has recently shown, the second fasl or section of the
six fusl of Ibn 'Arab's Al-Futht al-makkiyya (the fasl al-mu'malt, corresponding to
chapters 74188 of the Futht), is entirely based on al-Qushayr's (d.465/107273)
arrangement of the Maqmt in theRisla. See Michel Chodkiewicz, "Mi'rj al-kalima de
la Risla Qushayriyya aux Futht Makkiyya", in Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Theology,
Philosophy and Mysticism in Muslim Thought (Essays in Honour of Hermann Landolt), ed. Todd
Lawson (London and New York: I.B. Tauris in association with the Institute of Ismaili Studies,
2005), pp. 24861. However, the chapters devoted to qurb and bu'd (chapters 260 and 261)
belong to the third fasl (thefasl al-ahwl). It can be noted that, like al-Qushayr (cf. n. 7
above), Ibn 'Arab deals with the question of proximity as being the performance of religious
obligations. And he draws upon the hadth al-nawfil in his discussion of proximity, as does alQushayr in his Risla (op. cit., pp. 15758). In fact, amongst all of the early manuals of
Sufism, the Risla seems to be the only one to do this. It would be safe to conclude, therefore,
that at least in his treatment of the state of proximity in chapter 260 of the Futht, Ibn 'Arab
had al-Qushayr's chapter on qurb and bu'd from the Risla in mind and was further
elucidating al-Qushayr's silences concerning the true state of proximity. This is not to suggest
that in chapter 260 of the Futht Ibn 'Arab is simply "commenting" upon al-Qushayr's
chapter in the Risla. This, as Chodkiewicz (op. cit., p. 251) cautions with respect to the
second fasl of theFutht and the section devoted to the Maqmt in the Risla, is far from
being the case. Rather, it is to point out how closely associated Ibn 'Arab's teachings are with
the Sufi tradition which preceded him.
20. Ibn 'Arab, Futht, II.559.21. 22. 23 24 2526. Ibid. 27. Michel Chodkiewicz, The Spiritual
Writings of Amir 'Abd El Kader (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1995), p. 209, n.
84.
28. Ibid.29. Ibn 'Arab, Futht, II.559.
30. See Chodkiewicz, The Spiritual Writings of Amir 'Abd El Kader, p. 209, n. 84.
31. Ab Sa'd al-Kharrz, Kitb al-ift, translated in Paul Nwyia, Exgse coranique et
langage mystique (Beirut: Dar el-Machreq,1970), p. 264; Muhammad b. 'Abd al-Jabbr al-

Niffar, The Mawqif and Mukhtabt of Muhammad b. 'Abd al-Jabbr al-Niffar, ed. and trans.
A.J. Arberry (London: Cambridge University Press, 1935), p. 3.

The Wisdom of Animals

More than any other Muslim thinker, Ibn 'Arabi dedicated his teachings to clarifying the
presence of the divine wisdom in all things and the human necessity of conforming to that
wisdom. The arguments he offers are at once metaphysical and scriptural, cosmological and
psychological, scientific and ethical. He addresses every dimension of human and cosmic
existence and speaks constantly of the inherent goodness of all of creation and the human
duty to respect the rights (huqq) of all creatures not simply the rights of God and the rights
of our fellow beings. If there is a single scriptural theme to his writings, after tawhd, it is
certainly the prophetic saying: "Give to each that has a right (haqq) its right". He reads this in
conjunction with the Quranic insistence that God created the universe and everything within
it bi'-l-haqq, that is, by means of and through the right, the real, the appropriate, the true. He
understands this to mean that everything in the universe is right, true, and real. Human
beings, however, are not necessarily given the insight to recognize the truth and rightness of
all things. In order to achieve such recognition, they need prophetic guidance, and only then
can they live a life that is right, true, and appropriate. That right and appropriate life demands
that they respond rightly and appropriately to the rightness and appropriateness of all things
to the extent of human capacity. In other words, the divine wisdom that has created human
beings has imposed upon them the duty of "giving to everything that has a right its right".
One of the many sides to Ibn 'Arabi's project of clarifying the rights and truths of all things is
cosmology, that is, the explication of the nature of the universe, with its diverse types and
sorts of creatures. One should not, of course, confuse the traditional notion of cosmology with
what goes by this name in modern times. Today, when scientists speak of cosmology, they
mean physical cosmography that is, the structure of the universe as perceived by means of
the technological tools and mathematical theories of modern physics. Physics can only deal
with what is traditionally called the "visible" or "corporeal" realm, and the visible realm is the
surface or skin of the cosmos. The cosmos, in Islamic terms, is not simply physical
manifestation. Rather, the word cosmos ('lam) designates "everything other than God" (m
siwa'llh). It follows that "cosmology" in the proper sense of the word must explain not only
the nature of the visible realm (shadda), but also that of the invisible realms (ghayb), which
are infinitely more extensive than what we can perceive with our senses, even if these are
aided by the most sophisticated instruments.
Ibn 'Arabi's most famous cosmological scheme is that of the Breath of the All-Merciful (nafas
al-rahmn), in which he elucidates Quranic references to the speech of God. The Quran tells us
in several verses that God brings things into existence simply by saying "Be!" to them, and
that God's words are in effect infinite if all the oceans were ink, and all trees were pens,

God's words would not run out (Q.18:109, 31:27). Ibn 'Arabi explains God's words on the
analogy of our own words, which are also inexhaustible, at least potentially. We bring the
words out from our awareness, just as God brings His words out from His infinite knowledge.
We articulate words in our breath just as God articulates words in His all-Merciful Breath. Our
words disappear as quickly as we utter them, just as God's words are evanescent. "Everything
perishes but His face", says the Quran, and Ibn 'Arabi insists that this rule applies to every
moment of every existent thing. It follows that each moment of existence, each moment of
each thing, is a new creation, a new articulation of the thing's existence. Failing this new
articulation, God's words the universe would simply disappear, for nothing can exist
without constant divine support.
Ibn 'Arabi devotes Chapter 198 of al-Futht al-makkiyya, one of the longer chapters of the
book, to the Breath of the all-Merciful. He takes the Arabic alphabet as representing twentyeight primordial divine letters. In order to create the cosmos, with all its invisible and visible
levels, God composes words and sentences and books employing those twenty-eight letters.
The outline of this cosmological scheme is well known Titus Burckhardt wrote a little book
describing it many years ago. Each of the twenty-eight letters corresponds to several things,
including one of the divine names and one category of creature. Some of the letters represent
creatures that appear on the descending arc of existence, the movement from the invisible
realms into the semi-visible realm of receptivity in which the visible cosmos is born. Other
letters represent creatures that appear on the ascending arc of existence, which begins in
visibility and then returns to the invisible realms of spirit and consciousness from which it
arose. On this returning arc, the twenty-seventh letter represents human beings, and the
twenty-eighth designates the stations and stages of perfection achieved by those human
beings who enter into the presence of God. The twenty-sixth letter represents the jinn, and
the twenty-fifth the angels, inasmuch as these are creatures that are present in the invisible
realms of the returning arc. Letters 23 through 25 designate the visible creatures, that is,
minerals, plants, and animals. Notice that modern cosmology deals almost exclusively with the
twenty-third letter of the alphabet, the other twenty-seven letters lying outside the realm of
its competence. This is why it hardly deserves the name "cosmology".
Today I want to look at the twenty-fifth cosmic letter in an attempt to sum up Ibn 'Arabi's
understanding of the role of animals in creation. In other words, what is the rightful and
truthful situation of the animal realm? How can we as human beings give to animals their
rights? Ibn 'Arabi has a great deal to say about this issue, so I can only make a few quick
comments. I am drawing from the section of Chapter 198 on the twenty-fifth letter, and from
Chapters 357 and 372, both of which announce in their titles that they will address the nature
of bah'im, "the dumb beasts".
***
The word for animal in Arabic is hayawn, "living thing". Given that each of the twenty-eight
letters is governed by one specific divine name, one might guess that the divine name related
to animals would be al-hayy, the Alive, or perhaps al-muhy, "the Life-Giver". This is not the
case, however, and the reason is not too difficult to understand. Ibn 'Arabi tells us repeatedly
that everything in the universe is in fact alive, but that the life of most things is hidden from
our sight. This is so because life is presupposed by every divine quality. Knowledge, power,
desire, mercy, justice, and so on have no meaning unless they are the qualities of something

that is alive. In other words, God must be alive to know, desire, and act. It follows that life
permeates all divine attributes. Hence, life also pervades all creatures, because creatures are
simply the traces and properties of the divine names. Ibn 'Arabi writes,
The name Alive is an essential name of the Real glory be to Him! Therefore, nothing can
emerge from Him but living things. So, all the cosmos is alive, for indeed the nonexistence of
life, or the existence of something in the cosmos that is not alive, has no divine support, but
every contingent thing must have a support. So, what you consider to be inanimate is in fact
alive. (Futht, vol.3, p.324, line 20)
In Ibn 'Arabi's way of looking at the universe, all things are living words articulated in the
Breath of the all-Merciful. This is to say that the divine life and the divine mercy are in fact the
same thing. When God says in the Quran, "My mercy embraces everything" (6:156), this
means, according to Ibn 'Arabi, that "He has mercy on the cosmos through life, for life is the
sphere of the mercy that embraces everything" (Futht 2:107.25).
Elsewhere he explains that everything in the three visible realms that is, minerals, plants,
and animals is under the control of the angels called "souls" (nufs). By means of their
souls, all creatures receive life from God and also know Him. People refer to things as
"animals", that is, hayawn, "living things", only when they perceive the obvious signs of life.
"But", says Ibn 'Arabi,
All are pervaded by life, so they speak the praise of their Creator from whence we do not
hear. God teaches them things through their innate disposition (fitra) from whence we do not
know. So there remains nothing wet or dry, hot or cold, inanimate, plant, or animal, that does
not glorify God with a tongue specific to its kind. (Futht 2:678.14)
The universal glorification of God is a frequent theme in Ibn 'Arabi's writings. He takes the
frequent Quranic references to the speech of things quite literally. In contrast to Muslim
philosophers, theologians, and scientists, he makes no attempt to make a ta'wl of these
verses that is, an "interpretation", or an "explaining away" by having recourse to notions
of metaphor or symbolism. This points to one of his constant critiques of people who follow
their "rational" understanding of things that is, what we know as "common sense". In the
two chapters that talk about dumb beasts, Ibn 'Arabi devotes a good part of the discussion to
showing that rational, commonsense interpretations of Quranic verses about the speech of
inanimate things are misguided.
His basic argument against commonsense interpretations comes from two directions. First, in
order to conclude that things do not talk, people have to claim that God does not mean what
He says in the Quran. Second, Ibn 'Arabi and his peers that is, those whom he commonly
calls the "gnostics" ('uraf') or "the folk of unveiling" (ahl al-kashf) actually hear and
understand the speech of all things, so they know by first-hand experience that everything is
alive. They do not take God's words on faith.
***
In both chapters on dumb beasts, Ibn 'Arabi explains why they have this name, bahma, which
the Arabic dictionaries define as quadruped or animal. Ibn 'Arabi suggests that we can

understand the significance of the term if we remember that it derives from the same root as
mubham, which means dubious, obscure, vague, unclear. For example, in Chapter 378 he
writes,
Each created thing has a specific speech taught to it by God. It is heard by those whose
hearing God has opened up to its perception. All movement and craftsmanship that become
manifest from animals and do not become manifest save from a possessor of reason,
reflection, and deliberation, along with all the measures that are seen therein, signify that
they have a knowledge of this in themselves. (Futht 3:488.4)
Ibn 'Arabi goes on to explain that animals perform many skillful deeds and construct
marvelous things in a manner that suggests that they must be intelligent and rational. Yet
observers cannot perceive any sort of rational faculty within them, so they remain puzzled as
to how animals can do such things. This puzzlement, of course, has not been diminished by
modern science, which still struggles to explain the multifarious skills of animals. So, Ibn 'Arabi
writes,
This may be why they are called "dumb beasts", that is, because of the "obscurity" of the
affair except for us, because it is as clear as it can be. The obscurity that has overcome
some people is because of their lack of unveiling in this, so they know the created things only
in the measure of what they witness from them.
In continuing this discussion, Ibn 'Arabi has recourse to a few Quranic verses to show that
faith is on the side of those who witness the real nature of things through unveiling.
Even though the rational thinkers and the common people say that something in the cosmos is
neither alive nor an animal, in our view God gave every such thing, when He created it, the
innate disposition to recognize and know Him. Each is alive and speaks rationally in glorifying
its Lord. The faithful perceive this through their faith, and the folk of unveiling perceive it in its
actual entity. (Futht 3:489.6)
As is always the case with Ibn 'Arabi's writings, he soon gets around to explaining why we
should be concerned about the fact that all things have knowledge from God and that all
things express their knowledge through speech. Here I can mention one basic lesson, and this
is that the awareness of all things should encourage us to have shame. "Shame" (hay') is not
considered a great virtue nowadays in the West, but it certainly has had an honorable role to
play in many civilizations, not least Islam. The Prophet said, "Every religion has its character
trait [khuluq], and the character trait of Islam is shame" (Ibn Mja, Zuhd 17). Shame is a
close ally of ihsn, "doing the beautiful", which the Prophet described as "worshipping God as
if you see Him". If one acts as if one sees God, shame will be a constant companion. And, if
we understand that all things are aware and all have the ability to speak, this can only
increase our sense of shame. Everything is watching us, and everything has the ability to
speak to God about our activities. Ibn 'Arabi writes,
Someone may come to know that there is no existent thing that is not alive and speaking. In
other words, there is nothing that is not a rational animal, whether it is called inanimate,
plant, or dead. This is because there is nothing, whether or not it stands by itself, that does

not glorify its Lord in praise, and this attribute belongs only to something that is described as
alive.
Once someone comes to witness the life of all things, he will be full of shame, not only when
he is in jalwa, that is, in public with other people, but also when he is in khalwa, that is, alone
in a private retreat. He will see that in fact he is never alone, for he can never escape a
location that surrounds him. And, even if he could escape his surroundings, he would still have
shame before his bodily members and organs, for they are the means whereby he does what
he does. He knows that on the Day of Resurrection, his bodily members will be called to
witness, and they will bear witness truthfully. So, someone like this can never be in khalwa.
"When someone achieves this state", Ibn 'Arabi writes, "he has joined the degree of the dumb
beasts", who are aware of the presence of God.
In short, Ibn 'Arabi maintains that dumb beasts possess an exalted knowledge and
understanding from God, and he concludes that anyone who considers himself superior to the
beasts is ignorant of his own situation. He stresses that such ignorance is characteristic of the
philosophical and theological approaches to Islamic learning not to speak of the modern
scientific disciplines. In short, his advice to his readers if they are not among the folk of
unveiling is as follows:
Consider, O you who are veiled, how your level compares to that of the dumb beasts. The
dumb beasts recognize you, they recognize that to which your situation will go back, and they
recognize that for which you were created. But you are ignorant of all of this. (Futht 3:489.
29)
***
Let me turn to a second topic that Ibn 'Arabi commonly addresses when he talks about
animals. This is related to the specific divine name that exercises its sway over the twenty-fifth
letter of the Breath of the all-Merciful. This name is al-mudhill, the Abaser, which is typically
contrasted with al-mu'izz, the Exalter. People naturally assume that it is much better to be
exalted than to be abased, but Ibn 'Arabi wants to show that animals, who are ruled by the
name Abaser, have a much more exalted position with God than most human beings. This is
precisely because animals gladly accept their abasement, whereas human beings tend to
forget that they are nothing in the face of God. They always want to be something, so they
seek exaltation. By claiming to be what they are not, however, they fall into heedlessness and
they rebel against their own God-given situation. Hence, the most exalted of all human beings
in God's eyes are in fact those who are the most abased before Him. Abasement at root is
nothing other than'ubdiyya, the quality of being an 'abd, a servant or slave. That is why, in
Ibn 'Arabi's reading, the most exalted of all human beings, the perfect human being, is also
"the perfect servant" (al-'abd al-kmil), that is, the most abased of all creatures before God.
In explaining the nature of abasement, Ibn 'Arabi turns to the Quranic notion of taskhr,
"subjection". It is God inasmuch as He is the Abaser who subjects some creatures to other
creatures. In fact, Ibn 'Arabi spends most of the section on animals in the chapter on the
Breath of the all-Merciful unpacking and explaining the reality of subjection. He begins the
section like this:

God says, "We abased [the cattle] to them, and some of them they ride, and some they eat"
[36:72]. He also says, "He subjected to you everything in the heavens and everything in the
earth, all from Him" [45:13], so animals are included in this. This is the ruling property of the
name Abaser in the cosmos... God made some of them subjected to others through the name
Abaser... He says, "He has elevated some of them over others in degrees so that some of
them may take others in subjection" [43:32]. (Futht 2:465.12)
Ibn 'Arabi continues this discussion by pointing out that subjection is two-sided. In other
words, when something is subjected to you, you are subjected to it. He explains how this
works with the example of a king and his subjects. The Quranic verse just cited says that God
has elevated some over others with the "degree" (daraja) that He has given them. In the case
of a king, God has given him the degree of kingship, and this degree allows him to rule over
others. The king subjects his citizens precisely because of the degree, and hence the citizens
are abased before the king and must do what he commands. However, it works the other way
too, for, as Ibn 'Arabi says, "Among the divine names, the Abaser rules over both sides". He
writes,
The degree of the citizens and the subjects requires that they subject the king to themselves,
for he must guard and defend them, fight against their enemies, judge disputes among them,
and seek their rights [huqq]. (Futht 2:465.22)
Ibn 'Arabi then points out that subjection also applies to the relationship between God and
man. The name Abaser rules over both sides. Although man is abased before God, God is also
abased before man. This is a version of Ibn 'Arabi's famous discussion of the mutual
relationship between Lord (rabb) and vassal (marbb), or the God (ilh) and that which is
"godded over" (ma'lh). His explanation runs like this:
God says, "He is God in the heavens and in the earth" [6:3]. He says, "He subjected to you
what is in the heavens and what is in the earth, all together" [45:13]. Luqman said to his son,
"O my son, if it should be but the weight of one grain of mustard-seed, and though it be in a
rock, or in the heavens, or in the earth, God shall bring it forth" [31:16], for God is in the
earth, He is in heaven, He is in the rock, and He is with us wherever we are. The Creator is
never separate from the created thing, nor is the Abaser separate from the act of abasing. If
the two were to be separate, this description would be separate from God, and the name
would disappear.
Ibn 'Arabi then explains that when God says in the Quran, "I created jinn and mankind only to
worship Me" [51:56], this means that He created them to abase themselves before Him, so
He created them with the name Abaser. At the same time, God describes how He guards over
all things and preserves all things. Like the king in the example, God's degree of Godliness
subjects Him to what the cosmos seeks from Him, that is, the preservation of its existence.
In continuing his argument, Ibn 'Arabi explains that God abases human beings by placing
within them the attributes of poverty, indigence, and need. As the Quran says, "O people, you
are the poor toward God, and God He is the Rich, the Praiseworthy" (35:15). Because of
their need, people then become abased before anything in which they see what they need,
and everything needs something else. The cosmos is filled with mutual need, which is in fact
the need of all things for God, whose attributes are displayed in the needed objects. It follows

that it is need that ties all of existence together. The well-being (salh) of the entire cosmos
depends upon need. So, Ibn 'Arabi concludes, with perhaps a touch of hyperbole,
No other name bestows general well-being on the cosmos like the name Abaser, and there is
nothing in the Divine Presence that has a property like this name. Its property permeates this
world and the next world constantly. When the Real allows one of the gnostics to witness it
and when He discloses Himself to the gnostic within it and from it, there is no one among
God's servants more felicitous than he, and no one with more knowledge of God's mysteries
through unveiling. (Futht 2:466.3)
As for the rest of us, the lesson we need to learn from the mutual abasement of all things is to
understand who we are in the cosmic economy. We should never overestimate our own worth.
We should not consider ourselves exalted, because in fact we are abased before the divine
power. Ibn 'Arabi explains this in one of the chapters on the dumb beasts:
Know that even though God has subjected and abased the dumb beasts to man, you should
not be heedless of the fact that you are subjected to them. You look to their well-being by
watering and feeding them, by cleaning their places, by coming into contact with dung and
waste because of them, and by protecting them from the heat and cold that harm them. This
and similar things are because the Real has subjected you to them and has placed need for
them in your soul. ...
So, you have no superiority over them through subjection, for God has made you more needy
of them than they are needy of you. Do you not see how God's Messenger became angry
when he was asked about the stray she-camel? He said, "What is she to you? She has her feet
and her stomach. She will find water and eat from the trees until her master finds her"
(Muslim, Luqta 1).
So, God did not make the animals needy toward you, but He placed within you the need for
them. All dumb beasts that have the means to flee from you will do so, and this is only
because they have no need for you, and they have been given the innate knowledge that you
will harm them. The fact that you search for them and that you exert effort in acquiring things
from them shows that you are needy toward them.
By God, when the dumb beasts have more independence than you, how can it occur to you
that you are superior to them? Very true are the words of him who said, "No man will be
destroyed if he knows his own worth". (Futht 3:490.10)

The Time of Science and the Sufi Science of Time

Physics used to teach us that space is a kind of absolute container, separate from the flow of
time. In this classical or Newtonian conception, objects traveled through or remained
stationary in space, which itself was not subject to change or to internal variations. The three
dimensions of space were the same, always and everywhere. Galileo's observation of the
moons of Jupiter would eventually lead to the fundamental assertion, so damaging to the
prevailing Christian or traditional cosmology of the time, that in fact the laws down here on
earth and the laws up there in the heavens are the very same. Our "space" as we experience it
on earth, according to its inviolable coordinates of width, height, and depth, or the
famous x, y, and z of the Cartesian coordinate system exists uniformly throughout the
universe and is governed by the same rules. With the dismissal of the ether (the fifth element
the celestial spheres were thought to be made of) and the adoption of an atomist theory, the
physical vision of the universe was one of billiard balls colliding in a uniform and static
vacuum, with things like electromagnetism and thermal energy thrown into the mix.
In this conception, time was a measure and nothing more, and was itself assumed to be
constant and unchanging. One used time in frequency and velocity values, but time itself had
nothing essentially to do with the nature of space and certainly nothing to do with physical
objects themselves. The great paradigm shift in physics came with Einstein's special theory of
relativity, which was later to be expanded upon in his general theory of relativity. In addition
to showing that there is no absolute frame of reference for physical measurements, the theory
also demonstrated mathematically that what we ordinarily think of as space and time are
actually intertwining realities or two aspects of the same reality. How we move through
space changes how we move through time, at least depending on the point of observation. If I
travel from Earth for a period of time near the speed of light and then return, a much longer
period of time will have elapsed from Earth's frame of reference than will have elapsed from
my own frame of reference, in some sort of space vehicle for example. Time also changes
depending on how close I am to a strong gravitational field. A clock in orbit high above the
earth, for example, will run slightly slower than an identical clock on the surface of the earth.
Now, many books have been written in the last few decades claiming that the teachings of
Eastern religions such as Buddhism and the finding of modern physics, specifically quantum
mechanics and relativity theory, are really the same, and much is made of the spiritual
significance of this new physics. 2 Though it is a topic for another forum, I believe that the
perceived intersection of physics and mysticism or religion results from a sublimation of

certain hypothetical assumptions of physical data on the one hand, and a denaturing of the
spiritual doctrines on the other. That is to say, certain interpretations of the physical data, such
as the idea that the observer influences the state vector collapse, and the notion of multiple
universes arising out of the actualization of the wave function of particles, are nothing more
than philosophical struggles on the part of physicists and laymen to come to grips with the
data. They are not demanded by the data themselves, which is why many physicists who
agree on the same data have sometimes wildly different models for accounting for those
data.3 On the religious side, one comes across pat explanations of spiritual doctrines taken out
of their traditional context, and Buddhism is reduced to a group of clever insights about our
mind and the nature of the world.
Thus I want to be careful of including the findings of physics in a paper on the experience of
time and non-time at a conference on Ibn al-'Arab. I may joyously proclaim that Ibn al-'Arab
told us in the thirteenth century what physicists claim to have discovered only a few decades
ago, but what happens when the scientists change their minds? After all, despite what the
popular literature and movies tell us, there are enormous lacunae in physics, and for all we
know the spatio-temporal conception ushered in by Einstein may one day itself be overturned
by something as radically different. To give you some examples, quantum mechanics works for
very small things, and relativity works for very big things, but at a certain point in between,
for medium sized things, the theories become incompatible. This was the problem with
Newtonian or classical physics: for many purposes the theory worked just fine, but physicists
were puzzled because it did not work for all observed phenomena. Thus Newtonian equations
will correctly predict how a baseball will travel through space, but it took relativity to correctly
account for the orbit of the planet Mercury. Our present idea of gravity and the mass of the
universe should have the universe flying apart, but since it does not actually do so, physicists
posit dark matter, which accounts for 98 percent of the mass of the universe. The problem is
since we cannot see or measure this dark matter, we do not know what it is, or really if it is
there.
So why start a discussion of time at an Ibn 'Arab Society gathering with physics? Firstly,
despite the fact that classical physics is part of history as far as scientists are concerned, its
world view still dominates the consciousness of the age. It is what is most typically taught in
high school textbooks, and its assumptions are built into popular language about the subject.
The next time you hear someone say "fundamental building blocks of matter" know that such
a notion is completely classical in its origin. All our notions of mass, force, and energy are
usually classical conceptions, that is to say conceptions beginning from the bifurcation of the
world into measurable and subjective knowledge by Descartes, then Galileo's uniformity of the
universal laws, and finally Newton's brilliant synthesis. Moreover, these ideas, together with
the advent of the heliocentric model, was a major force, perhaps the most important force, in
sidelining Christianity in the Western world. First the Church abdicated its claim to having
knowledge of the natural world, and while it spent the next few centuries in the domain of
moral and spiritual questions, scientists gradually reduced the world to physical bits, reduced
man to a hyper developed animal, reduced animals to complex arrangements of atoms, and
reduced consciousness to complex patterns of synaptic activity in the brain. Meanwhile the
philosophers and pseudo-philosophers of scientism were busy trying to convince themselves
and everyone else that truth was provided only by quantitative measurement. The rest was
quality, which fell on the side of subjective feeling, and as we all were supposed to know,
feelings are really just complex instincts, which somehow result from the structure of the

brain, resulting from the structure of DNA, resulting from the happenstance arrangement of
atoms.
Relativity theory and quantum mechanics overturned classical mechanics, which had itself
overturned Christian cosmology. The paradigm shift ushered in by such figures as Einstein,
Max Planck, and Neils Bohr is important because it destroyed the destroyer. Heliocentrism was
erased, because from the point of view of relativity it is nonsense to say that the earth "goes
round" the sun, as it is to say that the sun goes round the earth, because there is no fixed
frame of reference to say which is going around which. The sun's gravitational field is stronger
than the earth's, but the earth does pull on the sun, and because there is no absolute frame of
reference anymore, then certainly it is correct to say the sun goes around the earth.
Geocentrism actually comes out slightly ahead, since it at least corresponds to our experience
from our frame of reference. From the point of view of science, however, we have
lost both geocentrism and heliocentrism.
As for universal laws, we find that things do not behave the same everywhere. For example a
clock seems to run at a different speed high above the earth. Light does not always travel in a
straight line, but seems to bend from different points of reference, because space itself seems
to bend and take on all sorts of shapes depending on the objects in it.
Then we discover that atoms are not mere little balls. Rather, it seems the only way we can
properly describe what seems to be happening on very small scales is through various kinds of
mathematical form, very unlike a little ball. The only reason scientists talk about wave-particle
duality is because the measurements they get look sometimes like a particle, sometimes like a
wave, but they never have nor ever will see what causes those measurements. The
relationships between the "atoms" is mathematically incredibly complex and is more like
threads in a tapestry than balls flying through space, but of course they are neither. The
problem is further complicated by Bell's theorem, which shows entities like electrons to be
connected, as far as we can tell, instantaneously even at distances too great for a light-speed
communication to take place. This is important because relativity theory states that nothing
can travel faster than the speed of light.
Thus the momentousness of heliocentrism, atomist theory, uniformity of spatial laws and time
was shown to be not so momentous after all, but this is lost on popular thinking. Einstein
certainly earned his own fame but did not manage to steal all of Newton's thunder. The most
usual understanding of the natural world is still a classical one.
But I already cautioned myself about too great an enthusiasm for what the new physics
teaches. Indeed it may be that the current paradigm is overturned, but it seems well-nigh
impossible that any such a revolution will bring us closer to the classical conception that
destroyed traditional cosmology in the West. We have already pushed the limits of what we
can actually observe with our own senses, which is to say anything else we observe will be the
effects of experiments together with the mathematical models based on the data of those
experiments. Physicists' eyes are not more powerful than our own; their insight comes through
the mathematical form they derive from the data. Such mathematical models are the very
stuff of physical theory.

The significance of this is not that it elevates one theoretical model above another, but that it
throws into sharp focus the fact that any model of what happens beyond the perceptible world
is as good as any other from the point of view of science, so long as it correctly predicts the
data. The problem with superstring theory, hidden variable theory, many-universe theory, is
that they are all mathematical models based upon the exact same body of data, and they all
predict the data equally well. These models are sometimes so wildly different that any
pretense to some one great scientific conception of the universe must be seen as philosophical
hubris. The precision of the data themselves and the success of the accompanying
mathematics in predicting the behavior of the physical world on small and large scales
indeed the most successful scientific theory to date paradoxically serves to undercut the
assumption that the only real knowledge we can have of things is through scientific
measurement. What we are measuring are things we can never perceive without a
measurement. Classical mechanics usually dealt with ordinary scale objects. If the real
knowledge we have of a baseball is the measurements we can make of it, we are still left with
an object that at least corresponds to an object we actually experience, even if that
experience is merely subjective or even meaningless from the point of view of science. An
electron is an entity no one has, can, or ever will experience. Even if we never perceive a
unicorn in fact, we could in principle.
The key reversal at play is the following: we measure quantum entities, but our knowledge of
them is mediated completely by our ordinary experience of the world, by our pointer-readings,
as Wittgenstein once remarked. I said that the new physics paradoxically undercuts classical
bifurcation because it leaves us with the troubling proposition that our true scientific
knowledge depends for its very survival upon the offices of our subjective, non-scientific
experience. Actually, this was the case in classical mechanics as well, but the fact that
quantum entities are wholly unlike ordinary entities makes the rigid bifurcation into a
subjective world of quality and an objective world of quantity all the more absurd. 4
The situation we are left with is this. The revolution of classical mechanics suffered a counterrevolution, the new physics, which neutralized the sting delivered by the heliocentric model,
uniform space and time, and the classical atomist theory. Though this counter-revolution did
not put traditional cosmology back in its place, it robbed the scientist of his ability to make
absolute statements about what we can know. A man might be lulled into a kind of
complacency about the baseball; perhaps the knowledge provided by scientific
measurement is more true and reliable than his mere experience of the thing. This may not
hold up to philosophical scrutiny, but overlap between the measured baseball and a baseball as
one sees it gives the whole affair an air of respectability. But when the scientist tells us that
true knowledge is measuring things that we cannot see, and that the scientist cannot see
either, it begins to sound too strange to be believed. And of course, it is.
So unlike many of the popular ideas linking the new physics to traditional metaphysics, my
assertion here is simply that science has exposed the fallacy of Cartesian bifurcation and the
alleged supremacy of quantitative knowledge. Science has turned on itself, or more correctly,
the data has betrayed philosophical scientism and exposed its limitations. We have quite
literally come back to our senses.
If we actually pay attention to the difference between quantitative data and physical theory,
we see that science has altogether lost the destructive power to make us denigrate our senses

and the ideas we form from sensory experience. We know that what the scientist says about
time is a modelbased on observations of the world, and that any number of such models
possess equal validity, and all of them are subservient to the real experience of the human
subject. Choosing one model above another is not a scientific decision, but a philosophical one.
Time, like space, is one of the most concrete aspects of our experience of the world. It is not
an abstract entity such as an electron, but a reality so close and intimate that we stumble in
defining it owing to its sheer obviousness. It is a mystery that baffles due to its clarity, not its
obscurity. If a physicist says that time is not what we think but is actually this or that, we can
agree in part and acknowledge that the reality may have aspects of which we are not aware.
However, we always possess the powerful rejoinder that no matter what the data or theory, it
has been formed on the basis of the physicist's ordinary human experience of time and
observations taking place within that experience. Logically, it is impossible to negate the
qualitative time of our own experience without undercutting the basis of the quantitative time
derived through measurement, since no observation is possible without ordinary time and
ordinary space. "Reification" is the problem we get when we put our theories of quantitative
time above qualitative time in our hierarchy of knowledge. I may give a mathematical
description of time utilizing perhaps a symbolic or allegorical use of geometric shapes, but
then become trapped in my own provisional model. Even the word "linear" in linear time is a
model. We make an analogy of some property of our experience of time to the properties of a
physical line in space, i.e., being continuous and existing in two directions. But time is not a
line, a line is a line. Having used the image of a line to enable us to talk about time in a
scientifically useful way, we get trapped by an image which has taken on a life of its own, so to
speak. Then anything other than linear time begins to seem absurd, a violation of time the
way a loop is a violation of a line.
The Cartesian bifurcation which elevates quantitative measurement and theory while
denigrating the real experience of qualities is ultimately absurd, because no model can
repudiate the model-maker and continue to remain meaningful. It would mean that the modelmaker's knowledge of what he is making a model of is dependent upon the knowledge
provided by that very model itself. A bifurcationist physicist discerns a mathematical form in
the data of the world, then says that this mathematical form is more true than the very
perception he used to discern that mathematical form. If by this he meant that the world
manifests laws present in the Intellect or Great Spirit, we could agree, since we perceive those
laws by virtue of participating in that same intellect. But that is not an idea the philosophers of
scientism would be willing to entertain.

Let me now leave off the space-time continuum of physics and come to the soul's qualitative
and lived experience of these realities we call space and time. Space and time appear to us to
be two modes of extension, or in simpler terms two ways in which things are spread out in
relationship to each other. Spatially things are here and there, and temporally things are
before and after. In another essay I discussed at length this notion of space and time as
extension, and I do not wish to duplicate that discussion here. 5 My purpose here is to establish
a link between space and time that is not at all based on relativity theory, but arises from our
living experience. Although in the classical conception which so often dominates our minds
space and time are seen as two separate and unlike things, the truth is that time is impossible

without space, and space is impossible without time. I do not make this assertion from the
point of view of physical science, but from within the world of the metaphysics of Ibn al-'Arab
and similar metaphysical systems.
Let us first ask what the world would be like if there were only space, but no time. The first
thing that we would notice is that change would become impossible. Think of a group of
objects existing in space, and then think of them existing in a different arrangement. In order
for them to go from the first arrangement to the second one, something has to happen. They
have to at the very least traverse the distances necessary to arrive at the second
arrangement, but how can they do that if there is only space and no time? Something has to
ontologically link the two arrangements. Even if somehow they do not traverse the distance in
between, the objects are still the same objects, and the only thing allowing us to call them the
same objects in the two different arrangements is a reality that allows the objects to change
but retain some kind of continuity. This connecting dimension is time.
Let us then ask what the world would be like if there were time but no space. Since there
would be no spatial extension to observe, we would somehow have to measure time with our
subjective experience in the absence of height, width, and depth. How would we know that
there even was a course of time? Feelings have no dimension perhaps, but what about the rest
of the soul? The images in our imagination, never mind the objects of the objective world, all
have spatial extension, so we would have to disallow them in a world without space. That is to
say, time implies a kind of inward space in the soul a different kind of space to be sure
that makes it meaningful to speak of before and after, a referent that is constant in the face of
change.
Let us as an exercise try to erase the words "space" and "time" from our minds and come back
at the question. We notice that in life there are things that change and things that stay the
same, and often the very same things seem to change and stay the same but in different
respects. The baseball is the same baseball, both in the hand of the pitcher and in the glove of
the catcher, but it is not wholly the same because some things about it are different, such as
its location and its relationship to the things around it. We can talk about things that are
constant and changing, or static and dynamic. (In Arabic the relevant terms
are qrr and ghayr al-qrr.)
But I do not wish to encumber myself from the beginning with technical language. For now I
simply have the "constant" and the "changing". I, too, am constant and changing. I am the
same person but I am always becoming this or that, experiencing all sorts of colors and
sounds and shapes in addition to my emotions, and yet the constant identity abides. In the
statement, "I was sad, then I found my true love, and then I was happy," thethen does not
split the I into parts. It does not erase the identity.
Such paradoxes of the many in the one, and the one in the many, really form the basis of Ibn
al-'Arab's metaphysics, and make a good point of departure for an analysis of time and nontime. At the highest level, the mystery of the many and the one is the identity between the
Ultimate Reality and the many things we usually think of as being real in and of themselves.
The ontological status of things in relation to the ultimate reality is a question for metaphysics,
but the mystery of the many and one also plays out in cosmology, meaning the study of the
world in which the puzzles of constancy and change arise.

At the highest level of Akbarian thought, the manyness of the divine qualities is resolved in the
unity of the supreme Self. This is not a unity of "before" and "after", where I might say that all
qualities are happening right now; nor is it a unity of "here" and "there", where I might say
that all qualities are in one place. Rather it is a unity of being, of identity. The Creator is not
another being than the Just or the All-Merciful. They are unified in what they truly are, and
mysteriously the world's illusory reality disappears in the face of this essential unity.
Now, Akbarians do not throw away manyness, but put it in its place, and from our point of
view in the world the many divine qualities and their relationships to one another are of the
greatest significance. The manyness of the qualities is unreal only for the supreme Self, but for
us this manyness is as real as we are, so to speak. In fact, we depend on this manyness for
whatever illusory reality we possess, because it is by virtue of the divine names and qualities
and their relationships that the world comes to be. How, then, does this one in the many,
many in the one, play out in the world?
There is no shortage of ideas that Ibn al-'Arab and his school use to describe how the divine
qualities give rise to the world. Some of the most important are emanation (fayd), selfdisclosure (tajall), identification (ta'ayyun). For this talk I want to use the symbolism of light,
and the divine name "Light" or al-Nr. Mystics and philosophers have often started with light,
and its symbolism is so powerful because light is both what we see and what we see by. Light
is both a means and an end. If we apply the symbolism of light to all knowledge, light is both
what we know and how we know. It is, moreover, a symbol that Ibn al-'Arab and his school
often used as a metaphysical basis, the same way they could use the concepts of mercy and
existence.
The Quran says, God is the Light of the heavens and the earth (24:35). The heavens and the
earth are the realm of the constant and the changing, so let us say that God is the light of the
constant and the changing, making God what we know the constant and the changing by. This
leaves us to ask what the constant and the changing are. Each and every thing is, ultimately, a
manifestation of a name of God. God knows His endless names, and this knowledge is the
realm of the immutable identities, the al-a'yan al-thabitah. Each immutable identity is a
special way in which God knows God, but God's knowledge of Himself is neither before and
after nor here or there. It introduces neither distance nor duration between His names.
But if the identities are essences or forms in the knowledge of God that are separated neither
by distances nor durations, how do we get to the situation where these identities, when they
are in the world, do get separated by distance and duration? In God's knowledge the identities
are immutable, but in the world they are what we are calling constant and changing. They are
here and there, and they are before and after. The baseball is here, not over there. Or, the
baseball is here now, but it was not here earlier. This does not happen in God's knowledge.
The immutable identities are different but not apart. There is an immutable identity for the
pitcher and an immutable identity for the catcher, but they exist eternally in God's act of
knowing, fused but not confused, to borrow Meister Eckhart's language.
Akbarian cosmogenesis is a two-tiered emanation, or self-disclosure which first gives rise to
the immutable identities in God's knowledge, and then externalizes or existentiates them in
the world. There is a way in which these two identities, one manifest and the other
unmanifest, are two different things, and another way in which they are simply the same thing

viewed from two different points of view. When God's light illuminates the immutable identities
which we can reword and say when God as the Light meets with God as the Knower the
result is the world. In a sense the immutable identities are dark, because as independent
beings they are nothing. They are only God's knowledge of Himself. The divine light is a gift
that illuminates the identities and gives them their own reality. This light allows there to be
something "other than God", this phrase "other than God" being Ibn al-'Arab's definition of the
world, because by being illuminated the identities can see each other, and see themselves, and
by "see" I mean "know".
Now, in the world this light by which we are illuminated to each other is none other than the
very realities of duration and distance. What we give the name "space" is a state of affairs
where the forms of things exist in a kind of relationality to each other, separated and yet
existing in the same domain and thus connected in a kind of continuum. What we give the
name "time" is a state of affairs where forms exist in a different kind of relationality, where
even a single given thing is able to be separated from its previous state and yet still be
connected to those states by virtue of its being a single thing. Thus its states also exist in a
kind of continuum. God's light in static mode is space, and His light in dynamic mode is time.
The identities themselves are not space and time, for the identities are pure forms in the
knowledge of God, but when God casts His light upon them they enter into the dance of spatial
and temporal interaction we call the world. This light enables the realities of sound, color,
shape, smell, feeling, number, mass, and energy to connect and manifest the forms. Light is
the vessel, both in static and dynamic mode, upon which the identities journey in between the
plenary darkness of God's knowledge on the one hand and the uninhabitable darkness of pure
nothingness on the other.
This is one possible understanding of the divine saying where God says, "Do not curse time,
for I am time." By cursing time, we are in reality cursing the light of God, which is identical
with Himself. It is by God giving of Himself, of His light, that our existence as beings going
through changing states is even possible. But it then follows that one could also say that God
is space. Islamic metaphysics does not have, to my knowledge, a classification of space as it
does of time. As I am sure will be widely discussed in this conference, there is a distinction
made between sarmad, dahr, and zamn, or eternity, sempiternity, and ordinary time. But if
what I am saying about the divine light is true, is it not equally true to say that God is space?
In the bodily world the divine light shines in a certain mode, far short of all the possibilities of
divine illumination. The light is relatively dim, and though I see myself and others, I cannot
see much, and the wholeness and connectedness of things is largely hidden in a darkness that
is yet to be illuminated. The possibilities of this world are basically limited, at least in our
ordinary experience, to the usual dimensions of space and time. Akbarian metaphysics teaches
that the imaginational world, the world ontologically superior to the world of bodies, is more
illuminated. In that world, the rules governing the constant and the changing, or distance and
duration, are not the same. Remember that the imaginational world, like the world of bodies,
is still a world of extension, which is to say that it is a world of manifested forms of shapes,
colors, duration, changing states. But because it is so luminous, the possibilities for the
interaction of the constant and the changing are much greater. The forms in the imaginational
world are indeed not limited by bodily space and time, though there is an imaginational space
and an imaginational time. Recall the saying that the bodily world in relation to the
imaginational world is like a ring tossed into a vast wilderness. Rm declares that there is a

window between hearts, meaning that we are connected to each other at the level of our
souls, both across space and across time. True believers can have dreams foretelling the
future, and great saints can meet in spirit if not in body. These wonders do not take place by
virtue of bodily existence, but by virtue of the imaginational world, the world of souls.
Not only do the conditions of space and time change from bodily to imaginational existence,
but they change from this world to the next, from theduny to the khirah. This is what
Dwd al-Qaysar means when he says that there are some divine names whose governance
of the world lasts for a certain duration. That is to say, there is a certain way in which the
divine light manifests the forms in our ordinary earthly life, but at the end of the world the
cycle of that kind of light, of that particular divine name, will come to a close. The hereafter
will then be governed by another divine name, another kind of divine light. That which is
impossible here will be possible there because the divine light will illuminate ever more
possibilities for the interplay of forms and identities. Space itself will be greater and more
infinite, time itself will be infused with greater barakah and potential for realizing the selfdisclosures of God.

Thus far I have been discussing the ontological status of time together with space, because I
think the two are inseparable insofar as they are two modes of the divine light as far as
worldly existence is concerned. But what does the reality of time mean for the spiritual
journey of the soul?
If we take Ibn al-'Arab's metaphysics and cosmology to their logical conclusion, I believe we
can say the following. God created us as a freely given gift, simply so that we who were not
could be, that we who were nothing could be living beings. But at the same time God
experiences all of our pains and our joys, our stupidity and our wisdom, our fear and our
courage with us in a mysterious way. Recall the hadth where God says, "I was sick, and you
did not visit Me," (Muslim 4661) and the Quranic verse "Those who hurt God and His
Messenger " (33:57). Yet for God there is no pain, stupidity, or fear, because God is not
confined to the moment of suffering. He knows the whole life. God does not move down the
line with us as we do, although He lives what we live. God could never suffer as we suffer
because for God there is no despair, no hopelessness. Hopelessness is the most human of
sufferings.
For God, the pain is like the pain of separation we feel at the very moment we are running to
meet our beloved. We are in fact separated, and the effect of running and the distance
between us is a kind of suffering, but that suffering is totally redeemed by the hope we have,
the certitude, that we have in the meeting with our beloved. The pain that God experiences
with us is like the pain we experience while running to our beloved. It is not really a pain at
all; it is a part of the fullness of the moment. God sees in our life, when we cannot, the
abundance and perfection of our destiny in a way so perfectly complete that the so-called
suffering is ever blessed and redeemed in the final reunion. We are not God, though, and so
for us the experience of pain is not the same, but it is what it must be for a being God created
for joy. When we become more like God, we suffer more in the way God "suffers", so to speak.
We gradually experience and taste how death is just a flavor of life.

In us, God is always running to the beloved, He lives the separation in the total light of
(re)union, death in the light of life, pain in the light of total bliss. We may think that we are
just stamping our feet, out of breath, running to a horizon that never seems to come closer,
but we are growing still.
To turn a nothing into a something like God is going to have to hurt sometimes, ripping open
nothingness and pulling out a god-like being strand by strand, sinew by sinew, love by love,
pain by pain, stupidity by stupidity into bliss, wisdom, wholeness, and ever greater life.
Think of a pebble in the shoe of the running lover. If that lover had placed all his hope in a
perfect shoe, a perfect foot to go in that perfect shoe with a perfect sock, all to create a
perfect fit. If he longed for it and made it his great hope, a pebble in his shoe while he was
running would crush him, reduce him to anger, despair, agony, humiliation.
But what does a true lover care about a pebble in his shoe? Does he even feel it? Would he
care? Perhaps it would make for an even fonder memory of the reunion.

The Quran promises that " in Paradise the believers shall neither fear nor grieve" (2:62),
meaning that the light of God will so illuminate us that we shall see the beauty of all things
past and of what may come. It is in the darkness and opacity of the past, the inability to grasp
the greater harmony of what happens to us, that causes the pain of grief. In grief, we suffer
from the past. In fear, we suffer from the future. When God's light shows us the way, we suffer
from neither. The Quran does not deny the passage of time in Paradise, only the difficulties we
experience on account of it in this world. Our memory is illuminated and causes us no more
trouble, and our imagination, that faculty capable of reaching out to the future, can conceive
of no cause for despair or hopelessness. The ignorance built into the darkness of the world
simply cannot exist in the full light of God in Paradise. It is thus that the soul transcends time,
not by leaving it but by conquering it.

Our destiny in this world is both static and dynamic, which is to say that we are a harmony of
parts and of experiences, of aspects and states. We can understand easily that beauty in the
spatial sense is the presence of unity in multiplicity, which is to say, of harmony in all its
forms. Music is the classic example of dynamic harmony, of a harmony that not only exists
statically in a chord for example, but also dynamically, in a progression of counterpoint and in
the movements of a melody.
If the soul can conquer time and live in it in Paradise, what about here in this world? What
enables us to wake up to the harmony of our destiny in this world and the next? Surely we
must acknowledge that an awakening is called for, because we do grieve and fear, groping
about in the dark while falling prey to unhappiness and despair. How can we become like God
and experience reunion in separation? The Sufis indeed speak of taking on the divine qualities
(al-ittisf bi-siftillh), and this is done through the remembrance of God, the dhikr, in all its
forms. It is through the dhikr that the light of God shines brighter and brighter upon the soul,
transforming and purifying it. A Sufi shaykh has said that when the traveler looks back upon

his life, he will see that dhikr as a kind of golden chain passing through all its states and
experiences. This means that through the remembrance, practiced faithfully, the Sufi
overcomes the vicissitudes of time.
And this brings us finally to the dimension of non-time, which from man's point of view, both
in the spiritual life and in the hereafter, is the spirit, or the heart, or the intellect. The heart or
spirit or intellect is the point in man where the divine light resides and can shine down into the
soul. It is the mysterious divine spark, both created and uncreated, or as some would say,
neither. The spiritual life is the wedding of the soul to the spirit, not the elimination of the soul.
Remember that by virtue of being made in the image of God we all possess an intrinsic
dimension of light ourselves. The illumination we receive is truly just an aspect of our own
nature, as Ibn al-'Arab says so clearly in the Fuss. In the spiritual life, in the remembrance of
God, the spirit or heart acts upon the soul, illuminating it, transforming it, untying its knots,
turning it clear where it was once opaque. From the point of view of time, progress is made in
tying together our temporal selves with our non-temporal selves so that the former can be
transfigured by the latter. When the non-time or eternity of the spirit enters fully into the soul,
the Sufi becomes ibn al-waqt, newly born in each moment. Wa Allhu a'lam.
Notes
1. For a good general introduction to both special relativity and quantum mechanics, see Gary
Zukav's The Dancing Wu Li Masters (New York, 2001).
2. Among the most popular of such books is Fritjof Capra's The Tao of Physics (Boston, 1999).
Other titles include David Darling, Zen Physics: The Science of Death, the Logic of
Reincarnation (San Francisco, 1996); Alan Wallace (ed.) Buddhism and Science: Breaking New
Ground (New York, 2003); Matthieu Ricard and Trinh Xuan Thuan, The Quantum and the
Lotus: A Journey to the Frontiers Where Science and Buddhism Meet (New York, 2001).
3. For example, the physicist David Bohm interpreted the data of physics as being consistent
with a deeper level of reality, and in fact argued that a more profound wholeness is actually
implied by the data. See for example his Wholeness and the Implicate Order (New York,
1980).
4. This point is argued fully in Wolfgang Smith's The Quantum Enigma: Finding the Hidden
Key (Hillsdale, NY, 2005). A collection of essays also dealing with the new physics can be
found in his The Wisdom of Ancient Cosmology (Oakton, VA, 2003), which touches on a wide
assortment of questions relating to science and philosophy.
5. "On Beginning a New System of Islamic Philosophy," The Muslim World, 94:1 (January,
2004).
Return to the top of the page

The Realms of Responsibility

in Ibn 'Arabi's al-Futuhat al-makkiya
by Alexander Knysh
Ibn 'Arabi's concept of responsibility is elusive to say the least. One thing is obvious to me: he
definitely did not expect his readers to treat it in isolation from his other favorite topics, not to
mention dedicate a special academic conference to it. In the Futuhat the notion of
responsibility appears in a wide variety of guises and contexts, some of which I will examine in
this presentation. My examination does not pretend to be exhaustive and should be
complemented by the observations made by the participants in this symposium.[*]
The Arabic terms that Ibn 'Arabi uses to describe responsibility vary. The closest he comes to
our modern understanding of the meaning of responsibility is probably the concept of taklif a
term that denotes the sum total of religious obligations that God has imposed on His servants.
Throughout the text of the Futuhat, Ibn 'Arabi often refers to his fellow believers
as mukallafun, namely, those burdened with Divine Command[1] or those for whom the Divine
Law is prescribed.[2] Throughout the believer's earthly life this prescription is absolute and
irrevocable. It comes to an end only at his death, when all the veils are lifted and the true
essences of things are revealed to his bewildered gaze.[3] While the word taklif does highlight
some important aspects of our modern idea of responsibility, that is, the ability "to distinguish
between right and wrong, to think and act rationally and hence [be] accountable for one's
behavior,"[4] it carries a variety of additional connotations, namely, that of the passive
receptivity of divine commands that may appear to be entirely arbitrary, capricious and
irrational. Yet, as divine commands, they have to be implemented under any circumstances by
the mukallaf, who is, as it were, saddled with responsibility to fulfil God's requirements.
The other semantic cluster pertaining to responsibility is associated, in the Futuhat, with the
Arabic roots talaba ("to demand", "to demand back", "to reclaim", etc.) and sa'ala ("to ask",
"to demand", "to claim", etc.). According to Ibn 'Arabi, the whole universe is held
responsible (tuliba) by God for a strict observance of that which is His due (huquq Allah), that
is, God's rights vis--vis His creatures.[5] In the same way as the great governor (al-imam alkabir) is answerable (mas'ul) to his superiors for the proper morals, behavior and well-being of
his subjects, any human individual is answerable to God for the actions of his members. In
other words, he must keep all his members and faculties from the acts that are contrary to the
Divine Law.[6] If the servant of God fails to restrain them from illegal actions, he forfeits his
status as a true believer and is abandoned by God in the same way as the ruler is demoted
and disgraced if he fails to maintain the proper social and moral order in his domain.[7] To
avoid divine punishment, the servant should carefully weigh all his acts and thoughts on the
scale of Divine Law in order to achieve a salutary equilibrium between his personal dispositions
and the Divine Commands.[8] In this process of the weighing of his behavior the servant can
count on divine guidance, for man is incapable of striking the proper balance on his own.[9]
This is not to say that man is a helpless puppet in the hands of God. His life is a continual test
of his ability to remain faithful to the spirit and letter of the Divine Law and to carry the
burden of taklif. This test consists in the believer's never-ending struggle to bring his actions
and passions in line with the Divine Commands, especially when the former are at odds with
the latter. In this constant internal struggle against his passions and drives the servant is

continually tempted by the blandishments of Shaytan, who seeks to make him put his personal
priorities above those of God's. This ongoing battle determines man's status in the hereafter.
Even when man errs in his interpretation of a certain divine command, he can still be absolved
by God who wants to reward him for his refusal to blindly follow his instincts and for his
attempts to weigh his actions on the scale of the Divine Law.[10] The servant of God who has
successfully renounced all his personal drives and natural appetites will receive the ultimate
award. God will grant him the right guidance in perpetuity, overriding all his passions and
drives of the moment. Put differently, God will make divine guidance the very essence of the
servant's soul, thereby protecting him from any error.[11]
In an illuminating passage, Ibn 'Arabi traces the origins of taklif to the first human beings,
Adam and Eve, as well as Iblis. The former two were commanded not to approach the Tree of
Knowledge, whereas the latter was commanded to pay obeisance to the first man. In Ibn
'Arabi's interpretation, this original taklif had two different modes: prohibition (nahy) and
command (amr). These primeval orders were stronger than all those that were revealed
afterwards, because God announced them directly to the individuals concerned. Therefore,
God's punishment for disobedience was swift and permanent: Iblis was cast down from the
heavens forever, while Adam and Eve were expelled from paradise never to return. All later
prohibitions and commands were less direct and therefore less final. They were dictated by
God to His prophets and messengers or communicated to them through angels. The secondary
nature of these two later types of divine prohibitions and commands explains why the
punishment of mankind for failure to observe them was delayed by God until the Day of
Judgement.[12] In certain cases God can arbitrarily suspend them or grant the Prophet's
intercession on behalf of some members of his community contrary to His promise to always
punish the disobedient.
Elaborating on the theme of disobedience, Ibn 'Arabi draws a fascinating distinction between
prohibition, which he describes as "the order pertaining to non-existence" (amrun '
adamiyyun), and God's positive command, which he calls "the order pertaining to
existence" (amrun wujudiyyun). The former demands that an action not be performed, while
the latter, on the contrary, requires that the subject of the command undertake a certain
action. Since the human race by their very nature are passive recipients of divine volition and,
in the final account, God is their sole mover, inaction is easier for them than action. In fact,
Ibn 'Arabi pronounces action to be out of character with human beings. By embarking on a
certain activity, whether commendable or otherwise, the servants of God are overstepping the
boundaries circumscribed for them by their primordial nature, which Ibn 'Arabi sees as innately
passive. This difference, according to Ibn 'Arabi, determines the more severe nature of the
punishment for failure to obey God's positive commands as opposed to the lighter punishment
entailed by disobeying God's prohibitions, which are but "orders pertaining to non-existence".
Much of Ibn 'Arabi's discourse on responsibility revolves around the issue of theodicy in
general and the provenance and character of human actions in particular. If God is the
omnipotent Creator of human beings, to what extent is He also the maker of their acts? If we
grant that He creates all acts, be they good or evil, how can He hold humans responsible for
the actions they are not free to choose or perform? If we suggest that humans choose their
own actions from a number of possible alternatives, what will happen to divine omnipotence?
In other words, we are dealing here with the age-old and inscrutable theological problem of
human free will versus divine predestination. By Ibn 'Arabi's time, this problem had found two

principal solutions that were associated with the two major schools of Islamic theology,
Mu'tazilism and Ash'arism. The Mu'tazilites attributed actions to human beings, albeit via a
divine intervention of sorts, and held men fully responsible for their deeds and misdeeds. They
also argued that divine actions and justice can be justified rationally, in so far as God is a
rational entity. The Ash'arites argued that all actions are created directly by God, whereupon
humans appropriate and perform them. In so far as they are the appropriators and performers
of the divinely created actions, human beings are accountable before God. Unlike the
Mu'tazilites, the Ash'arites viewed God's actions as absolutely arbitrary and not subject to any
extraneous rationale or logic, at least as these are usually understood by human thinkers. In
the Futuhat, Ibn 'Arabi repeatedly discusses both theories and brings out their strengths and
weaknesses. I will spare you the details of these discussions, especially since they have
received an exhaustive treatment in Chittick's Sufi Path of Knowledge.[13] I would like to limit
myself here to a few brief comments. Ibn 'Arabi duly acknowledges the legitimacy of both
theories as human attempts to come to terms with the inscrutable workings of the divine will.
In the long run, however, he finds both of them wanting, because they rest on a fallible
rational speculation (nazar) rather than a direct supersensory insight (kashf) into the true
nature of empirical phenomena. This insight is exclusively characteristic of his fellow Sufi
gnostics, whom he also calls God's folk (ahl al-haqq) and the realizers of the ultimate
truth (muhaqqiqun). Ibn 'Arabi's elevation of kashf as the privileged cognitive mode is hardly
surprising given the fact that his entire life was devoted to the defence and justification of the
contemplative Sufism of a gnostic type. The notion of supersensory unveiling known
as kashf[14] is absolutely central to Ibn 'Arabi's mystical epistemology. He presents it as the
principal epistemological tool of Sufi gnosticism as well as its distinctive hallmark. The
overriding importance of kashf is thrown into sharp relief in many passages from
his Futuhat. Here are some typical examples:
Know, oh my brother, that the knowledge of God's folk (ahl Allah) is derived from kashf. Its
shape is that of faith itself. Anything that faith accepts [as being true] is precisely what
the kashf of God's folk rests upon. All of it is nothing but truth. For it was communicated [to
us] by none other than the Prophet himself - may God bless and greet him! - and he derived it
from a veridical kashf.[15]
In another passage Ibn 'Arabi says:
I have alerted you to this important affair so that you understand where the ideas of
rationalist scholars (al-'uqala') come from.[16] It has now become clear to you that sound
knowledge cannot be derived from any [human] idea or from the conclusions reached by
speculative scholars on the basis of their ideas. For the only true knowledge is infused by God
into the heart of the seeker. It is but a divine light that God bestows upon whoever He wishes,
be it an angel, messenger, prophet, saint, or [ordinary] believer. He who has no kashf, has no
knowledge![17]
It is only natural that Ibn 'Arabi has recourse to this critical notion in his attempt to resolve the
problem of human free will versus divine predestination. Since his kashf shows him all acts
and phenomena to be ultimately from and by God, he considers their conventional marking as
"evil" or "good" to be contingent and accidental. However, he acknowledges that, for the
overwhelming majority of the ordinary believers, the division of actions into "good" or "evil" is
absolute, because they believe that it will determine their status in the hereafter. Ibn 'Arabi

sees things in a totally different light, because he considers himself to have gone beyond the
imperatives and conventionalities of human existence and the external dispensation associated
with it. Moreover, he explicitly claims to have crossed the all-important line that separates
temporary existence from the eternal life to come. Here is how Chittick describes Ibn 'Arabi's
argument:
In the next world, once a person has left the arena of the Law, he will see that all his evil acts
were in fact - in relation to God though not in relation to himself - good acts. This, in Ibn
al-'Arabi's view, is one of the meanings of the Koranic statement, God will change their evil
deeds into good deeds (Q. 25:70).[18]
Chittick's paraphrase of Ibn 'Arabi's position is corroborated by the Shaykh's own words:
"What in fact takes place is that one divine name prescribes the Law for another divine name
within the locus of a created human being."[19] In this scheme of things, the servant's own
will to act is absolutely irrelevant. In fact, it simply does not exist, since all actions spring from
the internal interplay of God's names and commands within a contingent locus called human
being. Elsewhere, Ibn 'Arabi drives this message home saying: "There is nothing here for us,
except our readiness to accept the actions that are attributed [to us by God] in the empirical
world."[20] "My kashf therefore says: 'You have nothing to do with this.'"[21] In short, the
only true and real actor is none other than God Himself.
This is a very controversial statement in so far as it can be interpreted by some immature
minds as license to do as they please without paying any attention to the Revealed Law. In my
study of the fate of Ibn 'Arabi's intellectual legacy I have shown that this indeed was
occasionally the case. No wonder that in several passages Ibn 'Arabi tries to counterbalance
his strictly predestinarian stance by allowing at least a modicum of responsibility on the part of
human beings before their Lord. In an illuminating passage from Volume 3 of
the Futuhat (Bulaq edition) he shows how a potential adulterer is irresistibly drawn to the
object of his desire by God, Who creates in him simultaneously the desire to perform the act of
adultery and the physical ability to do it. Yet, in the final moment the would-be adulterer
abstains from plunging headlong into a grave sin as he remembers the capital punishment that
awaits him, which, in Islam, is death by stoning. Paradoxically, this remembrance is also
created in him by God, who thereby puts the adulterer in an impossible position of
simultaneously desiring to commit adultery and abhorring his desire to perform it. Thus, on
the face of it, the would-be sinner is saved by his own dread of the consequences of his act,
although, in the final account, his actions were still predetermined by God from all eternity.
Naturally, Ibn 'Arabi and his fellow gnostics among God's folk (ahl Allah) are not subject to
such difficult choices and tests. They have renounced all their instinctive drives and desires for
the sake of God. As a result, His worship has become part and parcel of their very nature and
everyday existence. Although they continue to live in this world, they no longer belong to it.
Their true abode is what Ibn 'Arabi calls "God's wide earth".[22] They reside in this
supernatural land because they have already died to this world in an effort to expedite the
face-to-face encounter with God that is promised to them in many passages of the Qur'an.
"We know," says Ibn 'Arabi, "that the meeting with God can happen only after death. We have
realized the meaning of death and striven to achieve it already in this present life of ours. So
we have died while at the same time remaining alive in regard to our actions, our movements
and our desires. And when death appears to us in this life of ours, while we shall remain

alive... [We] have met God and He has met us."[23] As a reward for this death before death,
Ibn 'Arabi and his fellow gnostics have been granted a vision of the true realities of all things
and phenomena which are concealed from the ordinary mortals by the deceptive outward
appearances of all things. This vision can only take place in "God's wide land", where the true
realities of things are revealed without their empirical bodies which, in the world of sense
perceptions, obscure their genuine essences. Roaming the vast expanses of this land, which
has neither a beginning nor an end, are "the people of Divine Providence". Each of them has
his own domain over which he has full control, without however infringing those of his
neighbors. As one of this land's inhabitants, Ibn 'Arabi is no longer deceived by the external
appearances of things and phenomena. In particular, he knows beyond any doubt that all
actions, be they good or evil, are predetermined and created by God and within God without
any intermediaries. As God's creations they are all essentially good. However, this realization
cannot mislead the gnostic into wrongdoing, because the pure and absolute worship of
God ('ubudiyya mahda) has become his true nature. In other words, as God's intimate friend,
the gnostic has become incapable of committing any sinful action.
Obviously, this exalted epistemological and moral stance eludes the overwhelming majority of
human beings, who are subject to the contingencies of the Revealed Law. They are unaware of
their status as helpless puppets in the hands of God, who has long predetermined their
destinies and charted the courses of their lives. Protected by their ignorance from flouting
God's commands, they strive the best they can to please Him in the hopes of securing their
salvation in the hereafter.
To such men and women Ibn 'Arabi addresses his lengthy admonitions at the end of
the Futuhat. Unlike many chapters of his magnum opus that are expressly directed at his
peers and soul-mates, this section is addressed to the average Muslim with little or no
propensity to mystical insights or flights of fantasy. In the course of more than one hundred
pages typeset in a very fine print, Ibn 'Arabi seeks to inculcate in his readers the rules of
proper behavior toward God and their fellow Muslims: be virtuous, do good works, observe
strictly the rules imposed upon you by God, perform supererogatory acts of piety, mind your
speech (in particular avoid slander and backbiting, even if your words are true), dispense
pious advice to your neighbors, feed the hungry and poor, clothe the naked, forgive people
their misdeeds, be patient in the face of afflictions, practice humility, maintain ritual purity, be
considerate of your fellow Muslims, remember God often, hold God's friends (awliya') in high
esteem, etc.[24] The overwhelming majority of these admonitions are the staple fare of
mainstream Sunnism and can be found in practically every didactic manual of the age. One
wonders what all these recommendations mean from the vantage point of the "final curtain"
and why the Shaykh spilt so much ink detailing them?
CONCLUSIONS
So what do we make of all these contradictions? I would like to suggest that in the Futuhat we
are dealing with several different levels and realms of responsibility that pertain to different
categories of people. Let us outline at least some of them. The first and most simple type of
responsibility is confined to the ignorant populace (al-'amma) who are incapable of reflection
over the true meaning of their faith and their destiny in the hereafter. Blind to their real
existential situation and the deeper structures of the cosmos, they are destined to follow
slavishly the recommendations of exoteric scholars ('ulama' al-rusum) as long as the latter

derive them from a correct, if temporarily and circumstantially contingent, understanding of

the Muslim scriptures and the exemplary behavior of the greatest Muslim scholars and pious
individuals of the past. The responsibility of the masses is to stay within the limits defined to
them by their learned pastors. Any intellectual inquiry that may take them beyond these
narrow confines should be strongly discouraged.
Slightly above the exoteric scholars and their flock stand speculative theologians (al-'uqala;
ahl al-nazar). In their quest for truth they have hit upon some sound and valuable ideas, but
are still incapable to place them into a larger picture and to see their true implications for this
world and the next. Nor are they able to understand the constant fluctuations of the modes of
God's will in regard to His creation. The notion of responsibility upheld by such scholars rests
on their often conflicting understanding of the provenance of human actions and of their
relationship with the workings of the ever changing divine will. While one theological faction
sees human actions as basically products of their human actors, their opponents trace them
back to God, leaving almost no room for human discretion. In the end, Ibn 'Arabi dismisses
both doctrines as falling short of the goal and confined to this world only. They will be
invalidated in the veridical vision that awaits mankind at the end of time.
To the third group of thinkers belong those whom Ibn 'Arabi identifies as the ones whom God
has granted a true insight into the cosmic situation and the role of man in it. This group
includes both "the knowers of God" or "gnostics" (al-'arifun bi 'llah) and "the ones who have
attained the truth" (al-muhaqqiqun). While the former, although being head and shoulders
above the esoteric scholars and the speculative theologians are yet to achieve perfection, the
latter have already attained it and entered "God's vast land", where things and phenomena of
the empirical world reveal to them their genuine essences.[25] Seen from the vantage point of
God's folk, the responsibility of the overwhelming majority of the faithful is limited to this
world only. When the final curtain will be lifted before the human eyes at the end of time, this
responsibility will be invalidated and supplanted by new existential arrangements and
dispensations. However, these new realities are already familiar to the perfected gnostics, who
inhabit "God's vast land", since that land prefigures the shape of things to come. To this
category Ibn 'Arabi claims to belong along with a small group of the elect "truth-realizers".
It is against this background that one should see what I consider to be Ibn 'Arabi's personal
realm of responsibility, that is, one that flows from his objective status as a member of his
society. Throughout his entire life, Ibn 'Arabi acted as a staunch advocate of and spokesman
for an extremely esoteric version of Sufism that I, for lack of a better term, have defined as
"Sufi gnosticism". His entire intellectual legacy is explicitly and implicitly dedicated to the
defence of its epistemological and ontological premises, which he considered to be the
ultimate and incontrovertible truths inspired in him directly by God. In view of the ultimate
and overriding nature of these truths, all the other religious doctrines circulating in his
religious and cultural milieu were but pale and inadequate reflections of the sublime divine
mysteries that he claimed to have direct access to. In the short term, these interim doctrines
may be of some value in as much as they restrain the ignorant populace from engaging in
reprehensible excesses and immorality; however, in and of themselves they are flawed and
imperfect. Moreover, they will prove false at the end of time, when the true realities of things
will be unveiled by God for the benefit of his servants. At that point, God's mercy will
encompass all of His creatures, the sinners and righteous alike, as promised by the
famous hadith that Ibn 'Arabi was so fond of citing in his works. Ibn 'Arabi considered this

sublime picture to be too overwhelming and potentially detrimental to the generality of

ordinary believers. Therefore he took care to protect it from the profane eyes by couching it in
long-winded technical discourses, dark allusions and puzzling allegorical exegeses that
permeate his magnum opus. Yet, as an advocate of Sufi gnosticism, he was compelled to
disclose these socially dangerous truths obtained through kashf in order to demonstrate their
superiority to the other cognitive modes and theological trends of his age. Simultaneously, he
debunked and spurned the rival visions of God and the world as one-sided and misleading. At
the same time, on the social level Ibn 'Arabi remained a member of the learned class,
the 'ulama'. As such he was under obligation to conceal his daring insights from the uninitiated
in an effort to preserve the fragile moral and social fabric of his community that could unravel,
if his daring teachings were to be misinterpreted and appropriated by some irresponsible
individuals. The tantalizing tension between concealment and disclosure that shapes Ibn
'Arabi's discussions of responsibility in the Futuhat is a direct result of his dual identity as both
scholar and mystic and his loyalties to the disparate, if not entirely incompatible, strains of
Islamic tradition.
I would argue, however, that, in the end, Ibn 'Arabi the gnostic prevails over Ibn 'Arabi the
canon. For better or worse, he dares to raise the curtain protecting God's ultimate mystery
and to reveal to his readers that all human actions and natural phenomena take place by and
in the all-encompassing divine Reality (al-haqq). God's creatures are but the passive and
contingent arenas of dialogues between God's own names and attributes. Seen from this
perspective, the creatures have no role at all in the acts that they ostensibly create and
perform.
My narrative has come full circle. What began as a discussion of Ibn 'Arabi's concept of human
responsibility has led me to the paradoxical realization that, in the final analysis, there is none,
at least in the conventional meaning of this word. What we see is Ibn 'Arabi's self-imposed
responsibility to communicate his daring insights into the structure of the universe and the
designs of its divine Creator to his fellow Sufi gnostics. That these insights often contradict our
empirical experiences, the received wisdom of the traditionalist scholars and the theodicies of
the speculative theologians did not divert him from his objective.
NOTES
* An earlier version of this paper was delivered at the annual symposium of the Muhyiddin Ibn
'Arabi Society in the U.S.: "Responsibility", Santa Barbara, Ca., 20-21 October 2001.
1. See William Chittick, The Self-Disclosure of God: Principles of Ibn al- 'Arabi's
Cosmology, State University of New York Press, Albany, NY, 1998, pp. 43 and 391-2, note 44.
2. Idem., The Sufi Path of Knowledge: Ibn al-'Arabi's Metaphysics of Imagination, State
University of New York Press, 1989, Albany, NY, pp. 63, 110, 114, 174, 208, 210, 274 etc.
3. Ibid., p 402, note 20.
4. Webster's New World Dictionary of American English, Third College Edition, Webster's New
World, Cleveland and New York, 1991, p.1144.

5. Ibn 'Arabi, Al-Futuhat al-makkiya (henceforth Futuhat), Bulaq, Cairo: 1911; reprinted by
Dar Sadir, Beirut, no date, vol.3, p.220.
6. Ibid., vol.4, p.5.
7. Ibid., p.6.
8. Ibid., vol.3, pp.6-8.
9. Chittick, Sufi Path, pp.26-7.
10. Futuhat, vol.1, pp.71-2; cf. vol.3, pp.281-2.
11. Ibid., vol.3, p.70.
12. Ibn 'Arabi, Al-Futuhat al-makkiya. Ed. 'Uthman Yahya and Ibrahim Madkur
(henceforth Futuhat(Yahya)), al-Hay'a al-misriyya al-'amma li 'l-kitab, Cairo, 1984, vol.3,
pp.402-3.
13. Chittick, Sufi Path, pp.205-11.
14. In addition to kashf, which literally means "unveiling", Ibn 'Arabi uses a number of other
terms to describe this superior cognitive mode, e.g., "direct tasting" (dhawq) and
"insight" (basira), "divine [self-]revelation" (tajalli).
15. Futuhat (Yahya), vol.3, p.334.
16. Earlier on Ibn 'Arabi argued that their ideas were dictated by their souls and therefore had
nothing to do with the real state of affairs in either this world or the next.
17. Futuhat (Yahya), vol.3, p.335.
18. Chittick, Sufi Path, p.208; cf. Futuhat, vol.4, pp.4-5.
19. Ibid., p.208; Futuhat, vol.3, p.403.
20. Ibid., vol.4, p.34.21. Ibid., vol.3, p.226.22. See Qur'an 4:99.
23. Futuhat, vol.3, p.223.24. Ibid., vol.4, pp.444-554.25. Futuhat (Yahya), vol.3, p.310.

The Mystic's Kaba

The cubic wisdom of the Heart according to Ibn Arab
'When dawn breaks, one no longer needs a lamp'
(Ab al- usayn al-Nr)2
The Kaba must surely rank as one of the most iconic places on earth. In this paper I should
like to explore less the physical, historical and social dimensions of this remarkable structure,
or its continuing presence as a place of pilgrimage, or even the meaning of the Kaba and its
rituals, but rather what the Kaba means for the mystic, for one who has penetrated beyond
the surface appearance of things into the unfathomable depth of Being. All too often we tend
to relegate religious forms to a particular community: thus the Kaba represents something
meaningful for a muslim, whereas for others it becomes more like some anthropological
curiosity, with practices they do not understand or have access to. Here my focus will be more
on the universal meaning of the Kaba, and the wisdom of the heart that it can represent to
each human being on a symbolic level this is not the wisdom of the heart considered in some
abstract intellectual fashion, devoid of particular forms, but as a mode of contemplation that
views the world apparently 'out there' as a mirror that corresponds to and reveals the reality
of our own self. In other words, we enter into a direct contemplation of the inner through the
outer form.
Describing one of the five special privileges he had been granted, the Prophet of Islam related
that 'the earth was made a place of worship for me' (juilat l al-ar masjidan).3 That is to say,
all places were given to him as places of prayer, such that wherever one is, praying to God is
entirely acceptable. At the same time, from the very beginning of Islam, there were
designated places of prayer (masjid, pl. of masjid, literally a place of prostration), i.e.
mosques, with a particular orientation.
The qibla, the niche in the front wall of every mosque, often ornately decorated, shows the
direction to the epicentre of the Islamic world. Mecca, and more particularly the Kaba, is the
focal point of prayer, no matter where on earth a person may be. This orientation, adhered to
every time someone prays, is such an omnipresent fact of physical existence amongst muslims
that it has come to dominate the sense of the sacred. There is a story about the Sufi Ab Yazd
al-Bistm, who wanted to visit someone reputed to be a great saint. He arrived in the town
and saw the man enter the mosque area and then spit in the direction of the qibla. He
immediately turned around and refused to meet him, saying 'This is unfaithful to one of the
customs of the Messenger of God, so how can he be faithful about what he is claiming with
regard to the stations of the saints and God's elite?'4 In what sense, then, does it matter
which direction we are facing when praying? Is the Divine not always present in every
direction? We may understand the Islamic doctrine as pointing out that amongst all the many
directions there is one to remind us of the Real at the heart of all things, hence the notion of
the qibla. Nevertheless, at the same time, let us note carefully that it is not really the
physical qibla that determines the direction of prayer it is the singleness of Reality.

In addition to prayer, another of the five great sacred duties of all muslims (the so-called Five
Pillars) is to undertake the pilgrimage ( ajj) to Mecca and perform the ritual
circumambulations of the Holy Kaba, at least once in a person's lifetime. Approximately the
shape of a cube, with its four corners roughly facing the four points of the compass, the Kaba
is covered in a great black silk and gold curtain (kiswa), which is replaced annually. It is an
ancient centre of pilgrimage, designated as a holy sanctuary: no violence is permitted within a
twenty-mile radius; it is considered the centre of the world itself, a place where there is a
doorway to Heaven, a place where the sacred and the profane meet. According to the Quran
(2:121127), it was established by the prophet Abraham; or rather, it was rebuilt by him and
his son Ishmael over the foundations of the primordial house established by the first man,
Adam. The Kaba is said to be the earthly image of a heavenly prototype, the Frequented or
Visited House (al-bayt al-mamr), where angels constantly circle.
To some this is a matter of religious belief, to be followed by any believing muslim in the quest
for achieving salvation. To others in this secular era, it might seem like a remnant of a bygone
age, a ritual inherited from the historical recesses of ancient paganism. However, if we delve
more deeply into the inner meaning of the Kaba, we may discover something truly remarkable
about the nature of the self. By way of introduction, a historical story:
When at the beginning of his prophetic mission Muhammad claimed the shrine as the centre of
monotheism, wanting the Kaba to be dedicated to the One God alone, this posed an enormous
challenge to the Quraysh authorities, who stood to lose all the benefits of being custodians of
the sanctuary and the associated trade which brought enormous wealth and prestige. As a
result Muhammad and his followers were persecuted and harassed to such an extent that they
had to flee for Medina in 622 (the Hijra). On his return to Mecca on 20 Ramadan 8 (11 January
630), there occurred what might be termed a civilisational event of extraordinary numinous
potency. Muhammad entered the Great Sanctuary on his camel Qaw, fully armed. He rode
straight to the south-east corner of the Kaba, and touched the Black Stone with his staff,
magnifying God. At this, all those near him and within earshot repeated the glorification Allhu
akbar, in a deafening crescendo before the Prophet hushed them with a gesture. With
someone holding the bridle of his camel, he then performed the awf,
the seven rounds of the

Holy House, before wheeling away to confront the 360 idols of the pagan Arabs that stood on
the perimeter, a grand totemic circle of gods and goddesses. Pointing to each idol in turn, he
recited the Quranic verse: 'Truth has come and falsehood has passed away, for behold,
falsehood is bound to pass away' (wa qul: ja al- aqq wa-zahaqa al-bil inna al-bil kna
zahqan) (Q. 17:81). At this each idol is said to have fallen forward on its face (or on its back,
according to the earliest biographer, Ibn Isq). Handing the key of the Kaba to a member of
the family that had traditionally guarded the Holy House, he then entered the Kaba building
itself and had all the pictures of deities stripped from the walls, leaving only (it is said) an icon
of the Virgin Mary and Jesus and a painting of Abraham.
This dramatic, irrevocable act of supreme iconoclasm, affirming the meaning of One God
(taw d), the ripple-effects of which were to be felt within decades in Constantinople, has
determined the history of Islam and Mecca ever since. Our interest in this here is not as an
epoch-changing historical event but as a symbolic pointer to a deep reality. The idols are not
simply external objects of worship to be overthrown before the One True God, who has no
likeness; they are a metaphor for all our human constructs of Reality, mental or otherwise. For
Sufis, the overthrow of the 360 man-made idols by the Prophet at the centre of the world was

to be re-enacted within each seeker of Truth at the centre of their own being, in their quest for
the ever-Living God. The human heart has to be cleansed of all imaginings that defile it. For
Ibn Arab, the image of the Kaba and the pilgrims constantly circling it expresses
fundamental truths about our own inner nature.
The heart-Kaba
Just as every muslim knows about the Kaba but only some go on pilgrimage, so everybody
has an idea about the mystical heart, but only some visit it and experience it directly. To find
this place within us is to embark upon a journey, more or less lengthy in appearance, which if
successful will become a ceaseless circumambulation around the mystery of the Heart. It is a
journey that must be undertaken alone, in the privacy of one's being, on the solitary road of
the uncommon.
First of all, let us remind ourselves of the crucial differences between physical pilgrimage to a
stone house in the middle of Saudi Arabia, and spiritual journeying. The great 11th-century
mystic of Khurasan, Ab Sad b. Ab al-Khayr (d. 440/1049), was once asked why he refused
to perform the ajjlike all other good muslims. Ab Sad replied: 'It is no great matter that
you should tread under your feet a thousand miles of ground in order to visit a stone house.
The true man of God sits where he is, and the celestial House (bayt al-mamr) comes several
times in a day and night to visit him and perform the circumambulation above his head. Look
and see!' All who were present looked and saw it. On another occasion he is reported to have
said: 'If God sets the way to Mecca before any one, that person has been cast out of the Way
to the Truth.'5
What Ab Sad refers to as 'the Way to the Truth' is thus not a matter of external actions or
practices. When one shaykh was asked what had brought him to Mecca for the pilgrimage, he
replied weeping: 'Heedlessness'. Physical pilgrimage does not guarantee a real inner
movement; even those adhering to a spiritual path or practice may miss the point. This is
beautifully illustrated by an anecdote related by both Abd al-Ramn al-Sulam (d. 412/1022)
and Ibn Arab,6 regarding the eminent 10th-century Sufi, al-Shibl (d. 334/945). One of alShibl's disciples had just returned from the ajj:
Al-Shibl asked me: 'Did you remove your clothes [in order to put on the pilgrim's
robe, i rm]?' 'Yes,' I replied. He asked me: 'Did you at the same time remove all your own
acts?' 'No,' I said. 'Then,' he said, 'you did not divest yourself of your clothing!' Then he asked:
'Did you purify yourself with a full ablution?' 'Yes,' I replied. 'And did you purify yourself from
all your faults?' 'No,' I said. 'Then you did not perform the full ablution!' Then he asked me:
'When you said "Here am I, O God, here am I" (labbayka), did you hear the [divine] call to
which you were responding?' 'No.' 'Then you did not utter the labbayka And when you
entered the Mosque, did you enter the Divine Closeness?' 'No.' 'Then you did not enter the
Mosque! And when you saw the Kaba, did you see the One whose House it is?' 'No.' 'Then you
did not see the Kaba!...' After a few more questions on each of the pilgrimage rituals, al-Shibl
concludes: 'Well, all in all you have not performed the pilgrimage. So go back and do so!'
These two stories beautifully illustrate some of the paradoxes of all religious ritual. On the one
hand, to simply perform a ritual without simultaneously perceiving its full meaning has no real
value; it is as if one had done nothing at all. On the other, since in reality no physical place is

more 'sacred' than another, one does not have to go to a special place 'out there' in order to
come to a place 'within', inside one's own soul and awareness. As the great Shirazi poet Sad
(d. 689/1291) put it,
I sit on the throne of the heart;
That is the style of my poverty!
I am dust on my Beloved's path;
That is my elevated state!
No need to visit the mosque for me;
Your eyebrow is a prayer arch for me.
Sad, why this pilgrim's garb?
Why, indeed, this ritual of hajj?
Look at my Beloved's face;
That is the true worshipper's place!
For the mystic, the physical Kaba in the world represents the human spiritual heart, the
'place' within the human being where the Divine dwells, where the true human being (insn)
meets the Divine face to face. In fact one can say that the Kaba and the heart are not really
two things: the real Kaba is the perfect human heart, the original source of prayer, and
whoever brings their heart to that state of perfection and prays from there is praying from the
Kaba. Then the celestial Temple comes to circumambulate the Human Being.
However, knowing of this place within each of us is one thing. It is quite another to undertake
the journey to reach it, and to overcome the obstacles on the road. To set off on the journey
towards the inner heart, we each start from where we are, more or less distant from the
central pole of the Heart. We have to undertake a particular journey, with its own particular
route. We carry our own baggage, light or otherwise. We may stop en route, to rest and pick
up provisions, but if our intention is clear enough, these stopping-places are temporary we
shall not mistake them for our destination. It is essential to always bear in mind what that
final destination is like which makes it equally essential to listen to those who have arrived,
who bring news of the true nature of Heart.
One of the defining characteristics of true spiritual paths is convergence. All the divisions and
antagonisms that appear on the outer level are dissolved and disappear at the level of the
singular Heart. As Rm puts it,
For some the road is from Rm [Anatolia], for some from Syria, for some from Persia, for
some from China, for some by sea from India and Yemen once they have arrived at the
Kaba, it is realised that that warfare (this man saying to that man 'you are false, you are an
infidel', and the other replying in kind) was concerning the roads only, and that their goal was
one.7
There is one obstacle above all, according to Ibn Arab, which stands in the way of this
harmony:
The greatest sin is that which kills the heart, and it is not killed by anything except lack of
knowledge of God, which is called ignorance (jahl), because it [the heart] is the 'house' (or
temple, bayt) which God has chosen from this human formation for Himself. However, it has

been misappropriated by this usurper (gh ib), who intervenes between it and its Owner. It is
the greatest oppressor of his soul, because it prevents her from [receiving] the goodness
which would [otherwise] accrue to her from the Owner of this house, had it but left it [the
heart] to Him. Such is the deprivation of ignorance.8
We may note two important points in this uncompromising passage. Firstly, the heart properly
belongs to God; He is the Owner of the heart, and it is through this heart that all good comes
to the soul. In the Arab mind, and particularly for Ibn Arab, the heart is not the place of
emotions or feelings, as we might think of it today. It is primarily the house of real knowledge:
it is the place where God Himself is known and the temple in which God already dwells. In
reality it is His Heart, not ours. Secondly, the usurper that 'intervenes' between the heart and
its Owner, which has misappropriated the Temple that God has chosen for Himself, is not a
thing, not an ego, not a self it is simply ignorance of the true state of affairs, or rather, an
absence of knowledge of the Real God. If we do not know God, we can say that we do not
have a living heart, or that our heart is dead.
The heart's pilgrimage
There are two distinct complementary and apparently opposed (in intellectual terms) aspects
regarding the Way to Truth. On the one hand, it is a journey to the Heart-Kaba, a journey that
can only be achieved through purification and polishing. As Ibn Arab writes, 'the Real seeks
from you your heart and gives to you all that you are. So purify and cleanse it [the heart]
through presence ( u r), watchfulness (murqaba) and reverential fear
(khashya).'9 Sometimes he uses the traditional metaphor of the heart as a reflective mirror
which needs polishing the mirror emphasising the ultimate nature of the heart as completely
and infinitely receptive to the Divine revelation.
At the same time, it is a journey of the heart (safar al-qalb) to the Heart, of the mystic's heart
to the reality of Heart.10 It is a movement, therefore, away from considerations of 'I', 'me',
'my heart' to concentration on God alone, His Heart, away from the usurper to the true Owner,
from ignorance to witnessing and Knowledge. It can also be described as a journey from being
a limited vessel to becoming what is depicted in the Christian tradition on the walls of the
Chora Church in Istanbul as 'the container of the Uncontainable'. For Ibn Arab the 'journey' is
really the heart facing towards God in remembrance.11
As Ibn Arab succinctly puts it,
when God created your body, He placed within it a Kaba, which is your heart. He made this
temple of the heart the noblest of houses in the person of faith (mumin). He informed us that
the heavens, in which there is the Frequented House (al-bayt al-mamr), and the earth, in
which there is the [physical] Kaba, do not encompass Him and are too confined for Him, but
He is encompassed by this heart in the constitution of the believing human. What is meant
here by 'encompassing' is knowledge of God.12
Here Ibn Arab is of course referring to the famous adth quds, the words of God upon the
tongue of the Prophet Muhammad, which he quotes often: 'Neither My heavens nor My earth
encompasses Me but the heart of My believing servant does encompass Me.'13

This reveals some of the most essential teaching on the nature of the heart: that nothing in
the external world, high or low, can contain the True Divinity that is to say, nothing which we
can experience through our senses, which is earth, and nothing which we can imagine in our
minds, however lofty, elevated and glorious, which is heaven, can begin to measure up to that
which is unlimited Reality, Being Itself. God is only known (and loved) within, in the heart of
the one who has faith (mn). And this faith is not belief in the ordinary sense of the word it
is the actual realisation, intimation or appreciation that Reality is One and Indivisible, that
Reality lies present as the ground beyond (or within) all form, that Reality cannot be defined or
known except by apophasis, not-knowing no wonder Ibn Arab stresses the qualities of
presence, watchfulness and reverence as cleansers for the heart. It is the heart of this person
of faith that God seeks and where He Himself already dwells.
Accordingly, this human heart is far more important than any external edifice built to celebrate
the Divine. That edifice is only a mirror to and reminder of our own interior. What is portrayed
in the outer rituals of the physical Kaba are seen as pointing to their complements within us.
This awareness should be at the basis of our understanding of the sacred. In a lengthy chapter
(72) of his Fut t devoted to a detailed explanation of the mysteries of the pilgrimage, Ibn
Arab draws a striking parallel between pilgrims at the Kaba and thoughts crossing the arena
of the heart. Just as pilgrims circle the Kaba, some in awareness and some heedless, so do
our pilgrim thoughts enter our consciousness at each moment, some thoughts aware of the
sacredness of this heart-centre within, others oblivious.
We can also express the journey of the individual heart to the reality of Heart in terms of
capacity and expansiveness. According to some Sufis, Ibn Arab says, the Infinite Reality
reveals Itself according to the aptitude/receptivity of the individual, i.e. according to the
limited nature of the particular. As it has been expressed by a modern Lebanese writer, 'We are
all vessels for Truth; but we can contain no more of it than we make room for in our
souls.'14 Thus the only way the Infinite can appear is as limited and determined by the
particularised form of Its appearance. However, Ibn Arab is keen to stress that this is not the
real potential of the human being, who has given up all sense of their own soul: 'Since the
Real (al- aqq) varies His revelation in forms, then the heart (of the complete human being)
has to expand and contract according to the form in which the divine revelation occurs in it,
for it cannot exceed the form in which the revelation occurs.' Here Ibn Arab alludes to one of
his favourite linguistic word-plays, that the heart (qalb) is an organ that is capable of infinite
variability (taqlb). It can expand and contract according to whatever is portrayed to it. The
complete human, who has a fully developed heart, does not limit the divine through his own
limitation, but reaches the stage of being the complete mirror, where whatever is displayed in
it is shown exactly as it is.
Furthermore, the true human Heart is considered 'the Throne upon which the AllCompassionate is seated' and the 'House of His Names'.15 In his discussion of the heart as the
throne, Ibn Arab draws our attention to three of its defining characteristics in his view. Firstly,
just as Compassion has no limitation whatsoever and covers all things, the Heart supports or
reflects the unlimited nature of Compassion and is not limited to any particular attribute or
quality. As James Morris has put it, 'The Heart of the theomorphic, fully realized human being
(qalb al-insn) is understood as the locus of every conceivable form and dimension of human
experience, of all the infinite, ever-renewed divine Signs or theophanies that constitute the
ever-renewed creation.'16 Secondly, the heart is entirely responsive and receptive by nature:

it takes the impress of the Compassionate One who is seated upon it, without constraining or
limiting in any way. Thirdly, it is at the very centre of experience, more than any external
edifice could ever be. In his Tarjumn poems Ibn Arab draws a parallel between the spirits
that encompass his heart 'hour after hour, out of love and passionate anguish, kissing my
pillars' and the 'best of envoys' (i.e. Muhammad) circumambulating the Kaba and kissing the
Stone. Equating his heart to the Kaba as a place of pilgrimage, he points to the true human
dignity by forcefully posing a question: 'Where is the station of the Temple in comparison to
the Human Being (insn)?'17
Confronting the physical Kaba
However, this perception of the supreme elevation of the human heart, placing it above all else
in the world, got Ibn Arab himself into terrible trouble when he went to the Kaba itself. He
describes how 'she' (a feminine being, both grammatically and conceptually, like the Divine
Essence) asked him to circumambulate 'her', and the Zamzam well asked him to drink its
waters: 'out of a desire for friendship with the person of faith... I addressed this poem to
them':
O Kaba of God, O Zamzam! How strongly you desire my friendship, but no, no!
If I must get involved in a friendship with you, it is through compassion and not desire towards
you.
The Kaba is nothing other than our essence, the essence of curtains of reverential fear.
The True God is not contained by heaven or earth or any word...
He then switches to the divine speaking:
The House is greater than anything else apart from you, O My servant, when you adhere to it.
[He goes on to say]... I considered my constitution (nasha) to be more excellent than that of
the Kaba and her rank, and that as a place of theophany of divine realities she was inferior to
me. I spoke of her as of a mineral constitution, on the first level of engendered beings.18
This spiritual perception, which he describes as 'inebriated', was so potent that one night at
the full moon he was awoken and went to the Kaba to perform the circumambulation. In a
dramatic vision he saw her rise up in anger and threaten to prevent him completing his
circumambulation. She spoke directly to him:
'Keep coming on and you shall see what I will do with you! How you underestimate my worth
and overestimate that of the Sons of Adam, giving preference to gnostics over me! By the
Almighty Power of Him alone, I shall not allow you to circle around me!' I came back to my
senses and realized that God wished to correct me. I thanked Him for this, and the affliction
which I had felt vanished.19
He then composed eight soothing love-letters, explaining the Kaba's high rank, to calm her
down! As Denis Gril observes, this alternately amusing and terrifying theophanic episode
reveals a crucial point: the Kaba is above all a majl, a place where theophanies (tajalliyt)
take place, and as the outer representation of the Heart, i.e. the heart of Being, it demands
complete respect precisely because it reveals the meaning of the true divine heart.

We may note here, also, that Ibn Arab's physical arrival at the Kaba and Mecca produces the
most amazing flowering in his spiritual experience: in addition to this episode with the Kaba
itself, there was the meeting with his Beatrice, Nim, who inspired the outpouring of poetry of
his Tarjumn al-ashwq, and the encounter with the Youth who provoked the writing of the
great Fut t al-Makkiyya. Three numinous beings whose presence evoked an overflowing
creativity. The Meccan Illuminations, whose 560 chapters systematically plumb the depths of
every mode of human spiritual experience, are termed Meccan not simply because they began
to gush forth from Ibn Arab in Mecca, but primarily because they spring from the very centre
of being. They are revealed from the Heart, and demonstrate how the Heart is the true locus
for every possible experience.
Heart: terminology and degrees
At this point it is important to remind ourselves that there are at least four major words in
Arabic which can all be translated as 'heart' in English. Each has their own shade of meaning,
and each suggests, in the eyes of Sufi authors, successive layers or degrees of the heart. They
were given their first clear definition by Ibn Arab's predecessor, Ab al- usayn al-Nr, in his
classic text 'The Stations of the Heart' (Maqmt al-qulb), using the Quranic text as his
basis:20 firstly, adr (literally, 'chest', which is expanded from the pain of constriction and
becomes joyful,21 the first part of something);qalb (that which is turned according to the
revelation);22 fud (from a root meaning 'to hit or strike in the heart' or 'to be ardently
excited');23 and finally, lubb (kernel, heart or pith, the best part of something and hence in
relation to the human, the deepest understanding or consciousness, free from any negative
characteristics).24 Each of these 'hearts' acts as a 'mine' or container for its principle:
the adr for submission (islm), the qalb for faith (mn), the fud for direct knowledge
(marifa) and the lubb for affirming or realising unity (taw d). In this manner, al-Nr
delineates four successive stages of realisation, as a person moves from outer submission, to
inner faith, to inner knowledge and finally full realisation. He also speaks of the heart, that is
the qalb al-mumin, the heart of the person of faith, as a 'house' (recalling the prophetic
hadith 'The heart of the person of faith is the house of the Lord (or the All-Compassionate)').
The root meaning of qalb, q-l-b, is 'to alter, convert one thing into another, or turn over',
hence the idea of responsiveness since the heart is turned or can alter according to what it is
presented with. We can also see here the seeds of the idea that the heart is the place where
the influx of the spirit is 'converted' into the mind and other parts of the being.
Ibn Arab follows al-Nr in distinguishing these words on the basis of how they are used in
the Quran (though he tends to use the term sirr instead of lubb). In an illuminating passage
of his K. al-Isfr, where he is discussing the Quranic verse about the Prophet's ascension,
which al-Nr also quotes: 'He revealed to His servant that which He revealed, and the heart
(fud) did not lie about what it saw' (Q. 53:1011), Ibn Arab makes an important distinction
regarding two aspects of the heart:
The fud is the heart of the heart (qalb al-qalb): just as the heart (qalb) has vision, so the
heart of the heart has vision. The heart's vision can be affected by blindness, when it departs
from the Real by preferring other than Him after He has made it close '[It is not the eyes
that are blind] but the hearts which are in their chests' (Q. 22:46). But the heart of the heart
does not suffer blindness because it does not know the created world: it has no attachment
except to its Master 25

This idea of two levels or degrees of the heart is a way of explaining the distinction between
the temporal and the permanent, the apparent and the real. Just as the Kaba is covered with
a curtain (kiswa) which is changed from time to time and yet itself is a permanent structure,
so the heart has a face towards the relative world (He/not-He), where variability and change
occurs, and a face entirely and permanently turned to Him alone.
The fact that the heart's receptivity and responsiveness is not governed by any particular state
leads Ibn Arab to say: 'Hearts are the fields of mysteries. Cultivate them with spiritual
practice and refinement of character, and do not leave them as mere grazing for flocks and
herds.'26 This wonderful analogy, which emphasises the importance of spiritual education and
training in order to lead a fulfilled life, evokes images of his time in the peaceful countryside of
Malatya, overlooking a rich agricultural landscape full of fruit trees shaped over centuries by
farmers a great contrast to the barren steppes where flocks of sheep and goats roam.
Heart-centre
The centrality of the heart is coupled with its being a place of light: in the macrocosm, the Sun
is not only the centre of our galaxy (in modern parlance), but also in Ibn Arab's cosmology it
occupies the heart-centre of all the degrees of existence. Its lunar complement, the full moon,
represents the gnostic's heart within the whole cycle of human states represented by the
phases of the moon: just as the moon in its fullness perfectly reflects the light of the Sun, so
the heart of the gnostic reflects the Divine Light and shines upon the world of plurality. In the
cycle of the week, the fourth and middle day (Wednesday) is described as the day of Light.
Equally, the heart is the centre not only of external existence but of our human existence as
well: it is considered to be in an intermediate position between the spirit (r ) and soul (nafs).
As his predecessor al-Qushayr puts it, for example, 'The heart and the spirit are the
repositories of praiseworthy characteristics, whereas the soul (nafs) is the repository of
blameworthy ones.' In Sufi writing generally the heart is often placed in the middle of a fivefold layering of human existence: body (jism), soul (nafs), heart, spirit (r ), innermost heart
or secret (sirr).27 The Quran speaks of muslims as the Middle Community (wasa),28
and

Islam in its true sense is portrayed as the Middle Way (between extremes of transcendence
and immanence, exterior and interior, etc.); thus we may accurately describe Islam as the
'religion of the heart'.
The centrality of the human heart as the field of mysteries leads to some interesting avenues
of investigation: one of these mysteries is the secret of destiny/predestination (sirr al-qadar),
the mystery which determines the real difference between people, our real individuality. The
knowledge of this mystery, he says, is possessed by the Pole (qub)
and by the highest group
of the people of God.29 Interestingly, the 'heart' of his Fu al- ikam, in the sense of the
central chapter of the 27-chapter book, is not, as might be expected, the chapter on the
wisdom of the heart (which is Chapter 12). The middle chapter, the 14th (occupying the place
of the full moon in the 28 lunar phases), is devoted to the wisdom of destiny (qadariyya) in
the word of Uzayr (Ezra), in which Ibn Arab says: '[God] does not pass judgement over
things except through them this is the essence of the mystery ofqadar "for the one who has
a heart"'.30 Here then is the most direct link between the heart and the knowledge of the
mystery of destiny, which is nothing other than the highest degree of self-knowledge. In
addition, in relation to the Fu , we may note that the sixth word of the first sentence is

'hearts' (qulb) as in: 'Praise be to God who brings down the wisdoms to the hearts of the
Words',31 showing that the heart of Perfect Man (in the forms of the prophets) is the very first
'place' to receive the Divine wisdom (later we shall see the significance of the number six). In
the introduction, he speaks of how the whole book was presented to him as the book of the
Prophet himself for the realisation of 'the people of God who are people of the heart' (ahl Allh
a b al-qulb), i.e. it is brought out into book form so as to be read and understood at the
level of the heart.
If we look at his other great work, the Fut t, the notion of centrality and mystery in the
book is vastly more complicated. For example, we can take the centre of the book to be the
middle 19th volume of the 37 volumes (sifr): in this case, we find Chapter 270, on the inner
knowledge of the spiritual abode of the Pole and the Two Imams the Pole (qub)
being at the
spiritual centre of the whole world. We also find a more explicit thread in the fourth section of
the book, the section on the spiritual abodes, the fa l al-manzil: as these chapters
correspond directly to the Quranic suras, the 'heart' of this section is Chapter 348,
corresponding to what is commonly termed the 'heart' of the Quran, the Sura Y Sn. We will
not be surprised to find that the title of Chapter 348 is 'the knowledge of two of the heart's
mysteries, synthesis (jam) and existence (wujd)'.32 In this chapter Ibn Arabi gives
fascinating insights into the nature of the heart: for example, he depicts the correspondence
between the four vertical edges or vertices (arkn) of the Kaba and the four Divine Names
that govern existence (First, Last, Manifest and Hidden), and the four elements of the Quranic
Light verse (niche, lamp, glass, and olive oil), all in relation to the meanings of the heart.
The heart-mind
Ibn Arab often speaks of the heart in contrast to the mind or intellect (aql). In this same
Chapter 348, Ibn Arab explains the relation between heart and mind:
The heart possesses alteration ('turning', taqlb) from state to state, because of which it is
named 'heart' (qalb). Someone who interprets heart as 'mind' (aql), has no knowledge of
realities, for the mind is bound by shackles (uql). But if he means by 'mind', which is
binding, what we mean by it, which is that it is bound by alteration, so that it is constantly
turning, then he is correct this is the same as our saying 'being established in variegation'
(tamkn f talwn), for there is always diversity, but not everyone is aware of that.33
This alludes to his teaching that 'variegation (colouring, diversification) is the actual truth in
the world and indicates the divine vastness There is no quality or state which remains for two
times, no form that manifests twice He who is One in Himself is variable in manyness.'34
This understanding of the mind as sharing the same essential characteristic as the heart,
'bound by alteration', is something that shines through all of Ibn Arab's writings. His
teaching, which appears as expressed in detailed intellectual terms, is far from some
systematic mental edifice that he is trying to superimpose on Reality. The intellect is not
relegated to a negative feature that 'shackles' a person to a particular belief-structure in
contrast to the flowing passion of the heart: when married and in service to the heart, it is
capable of infinite change and adaptability. The mind is free-flowing, and can act as a
transmuter of spiritual light into knowledge. Such infinite responsiveness to revelation or being
assimilated to the throne of the All-Compassionate also implies an inexhaustible capacity to

teach others.35 One of the many lessons Ibn Arab draws from this Divine vastness is that in
reality we are constantly being turned from one form of mercy to another, even when it
appears as some kind of suffering: 'when you truly know this', he says, 'you know what the
heart of existence is'.
Heart structure: cube and sphere
Ibn Arab delves further into the notion of the heart when discussing its cubist nature. In
Chapter 362 of the Fut t, he explores the 'prostration of the heart', which unlike prostration
of the body in prayer, is constant (another way of describing the inner heart or fud).
Discussing how God created the world with an exterior and an interior, making one visible and
the other invisible, he distinguishes between two aspects of the human viewer, the heart and
the 'face':
He made the heart from the world of the Invisible (ghayb) and the 'face' [of the heart] from
the world of the Visible (shahda). For the face He specified a direction in which to prostrate,
naming that His 'House'. She [the House] receives him whenever the heart turns its face in
that direction in prayer For the heart He specified His own Self, glory to Him, so that it
shouldn't seek other than Him: He orders it to prostrate to Him, and if it prostrates due to an
unveiling, then it will never lift its head again from its prostration in this world or the next. One
who prostrates without unveiling lifts his head [again], and the lifting means heedlessness of
God and forgetting God in the midst of 'things'. He who does not raise his head when his heart
prostrates is one who constantly witnesses the Real in everything, so that he does not see a
thing without seeing God before that thing. This is the condition of Ab Bakr al-iddq. Do not
suppose that [there was a time when] he used not to prostrate and then he prostrated
rather, he was always in prostration, for prostration for him was an essential matter. Now
some of the world has had its prostration unveiled to it and knows Him, while others do not
possess the unveiling of its prostration, so they are ignorant of Him, imagining that they rise
and prostrate and can do as they wish.36
Contemplating the nature of the Kaba as a cube, Ibn Arab (the original cubist?) takes the
opportunity to integrate his meditations on the Heart. Explaining that there are six spatial
directions and how the number 6 is the first number indicating perfection,37 he writes:
The heart has six faces: for each spatial direction there is a face of the heart which is the eye
that looks in that direction. With that eye the heart sees the Real when He manifests to it in
His Name Manifest. If the revelation encompasses all directions, since He 'encompasses all
things' [Q. 41:54], then the heart through its faces encompasses God's manifestation to it in
each face, and becomes wholly light.38
This six-fold character of the heart being transformed into light might seem a somewhat
schematic notion, until one remembers that a cube has six faces, and that a sphere has only
one face, one unbounded circumference. We may then conceive of our inner human
consciousness as a cube, which faces outward into the six directions of the outer world. The
heart in the passage above is described as being transformed from an organ capable of
receiving revelation from each of the different directions or dimensions into a holistic seeing
sphere of Light. This clearly echoes the famous illumination experienced by Ibn Arab in Fez in
593/1197, of which he says 'I had no sense of direction, as if I had become completely

spherical'.39 In other words, when the singleness of the six-faced cube is revealed, it becomes
unified and spherical in mathematical terms, 1 x 1 x 1 = 1.
This cubic nature is also to be found in at least two of his works: first of all, as we have seen,
the Tj al-rasil, directly addressed to the Kaba, is composed of eight love-letters, which
corresponds to the cube of 2 (2 x 2 x 2 = 8). This is an appropriate number, given that the
letters are addressed from one being to another, from one 'cube' to another. We can also see a
'cubic' form in the book of the Fu , which contains 27 chapters, i.e. the cube of 3 (3 x 3 x 3
= 27): although apparently unconnected to the Kaba, the Fu in fact relates to the 'wall' of
prophethood, which was shown to the Prophet Muhammad. While we tend to think of the
prophetic wall as stretching from one point to another, i.e. with a beginning and an end in
time, in Ibn Arab's conception the spiritual structure of sainthood, prophethood and
envoyship appears as cubic. This is to be seen in his own vision of himself as the Seal of
Muhammadian Sainthood, as two bricks completing one of the walls of the Kaba that is to
say, he envisioned the structure of sainthood (of which he himself was a part) as cubic in
totality. Given that the number 3 is specific to Muhammad, and that the Fu presents the
prophetic tradition from the standpoint of its interior Muhammadian reality, it is clear why
33 defines the structure of the book. Prophethood is being depicted in the Fu as a selfstanding, permanent and harmoniously integrated meaning, rather than as a temporal process
of linear history. Each prophet is envisioned as a singular cube (1 x 1 x 1) in their own right
and part of the cubic structure of Man (al-insn al-kmil), which can be viewed as the 28th
degree.40 We may equally bear in mind that all higher cubes (23, 33, 43 etc.) always remain at
the same time a single 6-faced cube of 1.41
Ibn Arab sometimes uses the same cubic imagery in terms of a polished mirror. He describes
the heart as 'a round (or spherical) mirror with six faces, though according to some it has
eight faces. Opposite each face of the heart God has placed one of the fundamental Divine
Presences, so that when one of the heart's faces is polished, it reflects the Presence that
corresponds to it.'42 These six faces again represent the six faces or facets of the Cube, the
Heart-Kaba (the eight 'faces' that some describe may be connected to the eight points on a
cube).
One could hardly discuss the heart according to Ibn Arab without mentioning the famous lines
from his Tarjumn al-ashwq:
My heart has become receptive of all forms: it is a pasture for gazelles, and a monastery for
Christian monks,
And a temple for idols and the pilgrim's Kaba and the tables of the Torah and the book of the
Quran.
At first sight this poem is the very opposite of iconoclasm it affirms the divinity in all kinds of
external images. On closer inspection, while Ibn Arab may not be an iconoclast, as his
commentary explains, he situates the forms of worship in quite a different dimension: they are
forms of divine knowledge in the heart, forms of the Living One's revelation which the heart
readily accepts. So they remain not as graven man-made images, but as imaginal forms
revealed to the heart. In his commentary on these lines Ibn Arab emphasises the heart as a
place of variability (taqallub), capable of receiving the different kinds of inspiration which come
upon it through the variety of one's states, and the states vary because of the Divine

theophanies that are suitable to his inmost heart (sirr) an incessant circle between the
human and the Divine. Perhaps unsurprisingly, we find six 'forms' mentioned in the poem:
pasture, monastery, temple, Kaba, the Torah and the Quran surely a deliberate reminder of
the six faces of the heart.
The faces of Oneness
While Ibn Arab is so often associated with the Oneness of Being, it should never be forgotten
or ignored that he stresses just as much the other face of Oneness, the non-stop, neverrepeating revelatory effusion of that same One, expressing Itself in infinitely diverse images
and forms. It is this magnificent oneness and diversity that the heart is capable of receiving.
'Truth has come' in the heart of Man, not as a monolithic ideal of a better 'idol' than all others,
but in all Its intrinsic singular diversity and variegation of image. As Ibn Arab points out,
'falsehood (al-bil)
is the same as non-being' and 'all of being is Real, nothing in it is
unreal'.43 Perhaps this is how we are to understand the Prophet's action in Mecca when he
caused the idols to prostrate, rather than destroying them. This is not the drama of Moses
destroying the Israelites' golden calf as an example of the annihilating fire of Divine Majesty,
but the returning of an image to its rightful place in relation to the Origin, which is re-enacted
in every circumambulation of the Kaba. It is a simultaneous bowing-down in the face of
Reality and the passing-away of self-illusion and unreality in vision of the omni-directional (and
ultimately spherical) Face of the Real.44

Notes
Reproduced from the Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Volume 48, 2010.
1A version of this paper was originally presented at MIAS Symposia in Oxford and New York in
2009..
2Al-Nr (226295/840907), one of the great early Sufis in Baghdad, and a companion of
Junayd, was known as the. amir al-qulb (prince of hearts), who defined Sufism as 'the
abandonment of everything that pleases the soul'. Quoted in al-Qushayr's Risla (Epistle on
Sufism), trans. Alexander Knysh (Reading, 2007), p.98.
3Muslim,. masjid 3.
4R.A. Nicholson (ed.),. K. al-Luma fi'l-ta awwuf of Ab Na r Abdallh ibn Al al-Sarrj al s (London/Leiden, 1914), Arabic text, p.103.
5Muhammad b. Munawwar,. Asrr al-taw d f maqmat al-shaykh Ab Sad, ed V.
Zhukovski (St Petersburg, 1899), pp.347 and 374, trans. Nicholson in Studies in Islamic
Mysticism (London, 1998), p.62. Ab Sad himself did try once to go on pilgrimage but was
dissuaded by another great master, Ab al- asan Kharaqn. Disciples who pledged
themselves to go on ajj were told instead to make a pilgrimage to the tomb of Ab Sad's
teacher, Ab al-Fal al-Sarakhs, and circumambulate it seven times instead.

6Ab Abd al-Ramn al-Sulam,. aqiq al-tafsr (Cairo, 2001), I.110111; Ibn Arab, alFut t al-Makkiyya (Beirut, n.d.), I.677678.
7A.J. Arberry (trans.),. Discourses of Rm (London, 1975), p.109.
8. Fut. III.179 (chapter 344).
9From the Theophany of Acknowledging the Truth (. tajall al-taqrr), K. al-Tajalliyt (Beirut,
2002), CV, p.229.
10Long before his physical journey to the East and to Mecca, he speaks of the journey of the
heart (. safar al-qalb) in terms of travelling from al-Andalus, 'taking surrender as my steed,
striving as my bed and trust as my provision', to the House of Holiness (bayt al-qudus), i.e.
Jerusalem, the original centre of pilgrimage, which was the destination of Muhammad's nightjourney (isr). When Mecca was instituted as the centre of pilgrimage, the 'Holy House'
became identified as the Kaba. See K. al-Isr il al-Maqm al-Asr, ed. S. Hakm (Beirut,
1988), p.57.
11See. I il
t al- fiyya, in Rasil (Beirut, 1997), p.530, no. 67 (safar).

12. Fut. III.250 (chapter 355).

13This can also be translated as 'the heart of My believing servant does contain Me', although
this should not be understood in the sense of one thing containing another thing. Rather, the
heart is large enough for the Reality. As this hadith is not considered authentic by many
exoteric scholars, though frequently cited in Sufi texts, it does not appear in the. Mishkt alanwr, the collection of 101 adth quds which Ibn Arab compiled, where authenticity was to
be without question.
14Mikhail Naimy, 'In Memory of Kahlil Gibran', in. Khalil Gibran: essays and
introductions (Rihani House, 1970), pp.56: 'We are all vessels for Truth; but we can contain
no more of it than we make room for in our souls. You cannot fill with wine a jar you have
already filled with vinegar. Likewise, the heart stocked with earthly passions, unless emptied
first, cannot be stocked with heavenly desires.'
15. Fut. I.667. Cf. the hadith 'The heart of the person of faith is the Throne of the AllCompassionate'.
16James W. Morris,. The Reflective Heart (Louisville, KY, 2005), p.2.
17See R.A. Nicholson (trans.),. Tarjumn al-ashwq XI.79 (London, 1978), p.66. See also
his commentary on these verses, where the author specifies that he uses the word 'heart'
(qalb) rather than soul (nafs) or spirit (r ) precisely because of its associations with
variability (taqallub).
18. Fut. I.700. See D. Gril, 'Love-letters to the Kaba', JMIAS 17 (1995), pp.4054, for a
translation (with slight modifications) of the full passage and an analysis of the Tj al-rasil.
19Ibid. Note that the writing of eight love-letters refers to the eight points on the cube..

20. Textes Mystiques Indits d'Ab'l-asan al-Nr, edited by Paul Nwyia, Mlanges de
l'Universit Saint-Joseph 44 (Beirut, 1968), pp.130 ff.
21Al-Nr quotes Q. 39:22: 'And what of one whose chest (. adr) God has expanded with
submission (islm), so that he is upon a light from his Lord? [Woe to those whose hearts
(qulb) are hardened against the remembrance of God, for they are in manifest error!]'. This
expansion suggests that in the Islamic tradition it is the adr where feelings of joy are felt.
22He quotes Q. 49:7: 'But God has caused you to love faith and has beautified it in your
hearts (. qulb)'.
23He quotes Q. 53:11: 'The heart (. fud) did not lie about what it saw.'
24He quotes Q. 3:190: '[in the creation of the heavens and the earth and the succession of
night and day] there are signs for those endowed with true understanding (. ul al-albb)'.
Some later writers also speak of lubb al-lubb, the kernel of the kernel.
25. K. al-Isfr: Le Dvoilement des effets du voyage (Combas, 1994), French trans. Denis
Gril, p.28 and The Book of Journeying (Oxford, forthcoming), English trans. Angela Jaffray.
The same distinction is made in K. al-Fan, where he speaks of the heart (qalb) as having an
interior which is pure establishment (or affirmation) and an exterior where things can be
established and erased (Rasil, pp.2021).
26. K. al-Inbh, para. 47 (see D. Gril's translation of K. al-Inbh al tarq Allh by Abdallah
Badr al-Habashi, JMIAS 15, 1994, p.26). Compare also with al-Nr's imagery of the heart as
a garden which is fertilised or destroyed by rain and contains the perfumed herbs of praise and
gratitude (see EI2, vol. 8, p.139, Schimmel's article on al-Nr). Cf. Galatians 6.8: 'He who
sows in the field of the spirit will get from it a harvest of eternal life, but he who sows in the
field of self-indulgence will get a harvest of corruption out of it.'
27According to al-Qshn, the heart is 'a luminous denuded (. mujarrad) substance,
occupying an intermediate position between the spirit and the soul. It is that by which true
humanity (insniyya) is realised. The philosophers call it "the rational soul" (al-nafs al-niqa).

Its inner aspect is the spirit, while its vehicle and exterior is the animal soul, which mediates
between it [the heart] and the physical body' (I il
t).

28See Q. 2:134: 'Thus We have made you a middle community, that you might be
witnesses/examples to people and that the Envoy be a witness/example to you.' 'Middle' here
suggests the just mean, equitable and good. The association of the Middle with Muhammad is
well-attested in Ibn Arab's writings (see, for example, his. K. Anq Mughrib, trans.
as Islamic Sainthood in the Fullness of Time (Leiden, 1999), p.378, where G. Elmore
translates wasa as Heart).
29See. Fu al- ikam, chapter on Seth, Arabic text, ed. A. Aff (Beirut, 1946), p.60;
and Fut. II.583.
30. Fu , Arabic text, p.131. Note that the hearts of prophets are 'simple', discussion of the
all-embracingness and centrality of wal/walya.

31. Fu , Arabic text, p.47.

32. Fut. III.197206. The side of synthesis implies the human heart, which integrates all the
realities, and the side of existence implies the Kaba.
33. Fut. III.198199.
34. Fut. II.500.
35Cf. I Ching in the 19th Hexagram (Lin, the receptive earth over the joyous lake), 'The
superior man is inexhaustible in his will to teach, and without limits in his tolerance and
protection of the people.'.
36. Fut. III.303.
37The number 6 is the first perfect number in the classical sense, i.e. it is the sum of its
divisors, 1 + 2 + 3 = 6..
38. Fut. III.305. This implicitly refers to the famous prayer of the Prophet which specifies the
six directions: 'O God, place light in my heart, light in my seeing, light in my hearing; place
light at my right, light at my left, light above me and light beneath me, light behind me and
light before me. Make me light!' See also variant in Padwick, Muslim Devotions (London,
1960), p.212.
39See. Fut. II.486, translated in The Unlimited Mercifier, S. Hirtenstein (Oxford, 1999), pp.
114115.
40Other ways of viewing the structure of the. Fu include the fact that 27 prophets are
mentioned in the Quran, and the way that the chapters can be correlated with the 28 letters
of the Arabic alphabet, as explained in Chapter 198 of the Fut t (see Mafti Fu al ikam by Abd al-Bqi Mift, Dar al-Qubba al-Zarqa, 1997).
41This mathematical 'cubism' might also partially explain the division of the. Fut t into 37
volumes: 27 (33) + 37 = 64 (43). Could this be pointing symbolically to that which lies
between the earthly (4) and the heavenly (3), i.e. the intermediate realm of the isthmus
(barzakh)?
42In the epilogue to. Mashhid al-asrr, which was dictated to his student Ibn Sawdakn.
The same text can be found copied as a separate treatise, entitled R. f awjh al-qalb (RG 62).
He states also that he wrote a whole work entitled Jal al-qulb ('The Polishing of the Hearts',
RG 166), which seems now lost. I hope to provide a translation of this text in a future issue
of JMIAS.
43. Fut. II.129 and Fut. III.68.
44This is why Ibn Arab specifies the importance of annihilation (of illusion) and remaining (of
the Real) in the Theophany of the Heart (. tajall al-qalb,K. al-Tajalliyt XCVII, p.221).

The Muhammadian House

Ibn Arabs concept of ahl al-bayt
'Ahlu bayt amn li ummat, 'The people of my house are a safeguard for my community.
Although it is not included in any of the canonical collections,[1] this saying attributed to the
Prophet is one of the innumerable traditions[2] which in Islam are the basis of the respect
which the faithful have towards the ahl al-bayt,[3] the 'Family of the Prophet, understood here
in the broader sense and including the shuraf, the direct descendants of the Prophet from his
daughter Ftima. The expression ahl al-bayt appears on three occasions in the Qurn,[4] and
one of these concerns the family this is verse 33 of the Sura Al-Ahzb, which states, 'God
wants only to remove uncleanness from you, O People of the House, and to purify you
completely.
It goes without saying that the question of knowing exactly to whom the expression ahl albayt refers in this verse has given rise to endless debate. Staying with Sunni commentators,
let us recall that for some, especially the illustrious Tabar (d.313/923), ahl al-bayt must be
understood here as referring not only to the Prophet himself, but also to his daughter Ftima,
his cousin and son-in-law Al, and to his two grandsons Hasan and Husayn;[5] in other words,
to those who are also referred to as the ahl al-kis, the 'People of the Cloak, with reference to
the episode of the ordeal (mubhala) to which Q. 3:61 refers.[6]
Other exegetes, however, such as Ibn Kathr (d.774/1373) take the view that the context
(siyq al-kalm) in which this verse occurs, obliges us to also include the Prophets wives. It is
in fact they who are directly referred to in the previous verses and the following one.[7]
This is also the interpretation given by Hakm Tirmidh (d.ca.300/910) in a passage of
the Nawdir al-usl. He quotes the verse in question, at the end of a chapter on the very
subject of what meaning to give to the hadith, 'ahlu bayt amn li ummat.[8] Curiously, in
another text, Tirmidh considers another hadith relating to the pre-excellence of the ahl albayt as suspect. He has no hesitation in denying it any authenticity, even though it appears in
the canonical collections.[9]
Indeed the whole bearing of this hadith, or we might say this prediction, is determined by the
meaning we give to the expression 'ahlu bayt, the 'People of my house. For
Tirmidh ahlu bayt certainly refers to the lineage of the Prophet, but more specifically to his
spiritual line, that of the awliy, the saints who attain to the highest degree of spiritual
realisation, whether or not they are descended from the blood-line of the Prophet. It is these
'Men of God, in the strongest meaning of the term, who are the guardians of the umma, the
community of the Prophet, and moreover it is due to them that human kind survives.[10]
We can easily understand how the thesis presented here by Tirmidh, going as it does against
the commonly held opinion that ahlu bayt refers to the family of the Prophet stricto sensu,
has given rise to concern, even among his admirers. This is notably the case with Nabhn
(d.1350/1931), who was challenged on the day following publication of the Nawdir al-usl,
[11] by a sharf from Mecca who asked him to repudiate Tirmidhs statements on the subject
immediately and in writing.[12] At first Nabhn equivocated. He had never written before and
felt unworthy of such a task. Moreover, he faced a serious dilemma. Tirmidh was certainly

wrong on this point, he had no doubt of that. But he was also absolutely convinced that
Tirmidh was a saint and one of the greatest. Furthermore, it was also the opinion of a
master for whom Nabhn had the highest degree of reverence and to whom he unhesitatingly
gave the title of al-shaykh al-akbar, 'the greatest master Ibn Arab.
After considerable thought, Nabhn finally agreed to write the article in question the first of
a long series of works, many of which are dedicated to the Prophet and to the veneration
which is due to him and in which he demonstrated Tirmidhs error, without, as he emphasises,
any disrespect towards him.
But what Nabhn did not know or pretended not to know[13] was that on the question of the
concept of ahl al-bayt, and, incidentally, on so many others, Ibn Arab broadly shared
Tirmidhs views, except that his concept of the 'Muhammadian Family contains doctrinal
nuances which are not found in Tirmidh, either in the Nawdir or in the Kitb Khatm alawliy, in which this question is also addressed.[14]
Before turning to the subject itself, some lexical information is required. Ibn Arab, as we
know, attached the greatest importance to hermeneutics in the examination of religious
vocabulary of both the Qurn and the hadith.[15] In this case, he insists that care must be
taken to distinguish the termsahl and l, which are more or less synonymous in current usage.
One may recall that the word l is the one used in the tasliya, the 'Prayer upon the Prophet, at
least in its earliest form, and that it is generally agreed to give it the sense of 'family in this
instance, exactly like ahl. According to Ibn Arab, however, this is wrong. He states: 'Do not
imagine that [the expression] l Muhammad refers to the people of his house; this is not the
way among the Arabs.[16] And again he states, 'In the Arabic language, l al-rajul means
those who are intimate and close to a person. In saying this, the author of the Futht bases
himself on the Qurnic use of the term l, and more precisely on Q. 40:46, 'Make the people
of Pharaoh (l Firawn) enter into the worst of punishments. It is quite obvious that l here
does not refer to Pharaohs kin but to those of his close advisors who supported him in
exercising power and were thus complicit in his errors. In the same way, he points out in
connection with the prophets that the term l must be understood as referring to those who
were closest to them in faith, the 'Pious Gnostic Believers (al-slihn al-rifn al-muminn).
So it is upon these 'men of God and not exclusively the kin of the Prophet that the faithful
believer calls down divine grace when he recites the tasliya, the practice of which was
instituted following the revelation of verse 56 of the Sura Al-Ahzb, 'God and His angels bless
the Prophet, O you who believe, bless the Prophet and call down Peace upon him. When asked
by his Companions how they were to carry out this duty, the Prophet answered, 'Say: Lord,
bless Muhammad and those close to Muhammad (l Muhammad) as You blessed Abraham
and those close to Abraham (l Ibrhm).[17]
In this way, Ibn Arab notes, the Prophet extended the scope of the Qurnic injunction,
enjoining the faithful to ask for the divine graces upon 'those close to him in the same way as
they were granted to 'those close to Abraham.[18] Now among the latter, there are many to
whom God grantednubuwwa, the status of prophet. Insofar as it refers to a law-bearing
function (nubuwwat al-tashr), this status is unattainable since the death of the Envoy, who
was, in the Qurnic expression, khtam al-nabiyyn (Q. 33:40), the 'seal of the prophets.
From this point of view, no one will henceforth be able to claim nubuwwa. This is expressed in

the famous hadith according to which no prophet and no envoy will be sent forth after
Muhammad.[19]
Nevertheless and this constitutes an essential point in the hagiological doctrine of Ibn Arab
prophethood does not amount to simply the exercise of judicial authority. It also implies an
outstanding degree of spiritual perfection. Considered from this specific aspect, the concept
of nubuwwa refers to a 'spiritual station (maqm), which Ibn Arab sometimes calls 'the
station of general prophethood (as opposed to 'legislative prophethood) and sometimes the
'station of closeness (maqm al-qurba), and which remains accessible to the most perfect
among the saints.[20] This means, Ibn Arab concludes, that in conveying this formula of
benediction to his people, the Prophet wished 'the people close to him among the rifn, the
gnostics, to be able to attain the supreme degree of sainthood, even if they are unable to
exercise the nubuwwat al-tashr.[21]
Needless to say, the interpretation offered here by Ibn Arab for the expression l
Muhammad is at a considerable remove from that held by theulam. Moreover, it is not the
only one we find from the shaykh al-akbars pen. Because the Arabic language is a polysemic
language par excellence, and because akbarian hermeneutics draws on all semantic resources,
another text from the Futht considers a quite different, but no less subtle, meaning.
Among the accepted meanings of the term l listed in the Lisn al-Arab is that of sarb,
'mirage.[22] This is the meaning Ibn Arab chooses to employ in the passage in question,
which appears in the long section in Chapter 73, in which he undertakes to respond to
Tirmidhs famous questionnaire.[23] Our concern is with the one hundred and fifty-first
question, 'What does the expression l Muhammad mean?, to which Ibn Arab replies:
The l is that which magnifies images. In fact, l is described as the largeness of the images
seen in a mirage. The l Muhammad are thus those who are made large by Muhammad (aluzam bi Muhammad) and Muhammad, grace and peace be upon him, is like the mirage
which makes the one who appears there immense. Thus, you think that you are looking at
Muhammad, as one of great stature, in the same way as you believe that the mirage is water
in fact it does appear to the eye to be water. But when you arrive at Muhammad, it is not
Muhammad that you find, it is God that you find in a Muhammadian form and due to a
Muhammadian vision.[24]
Two major ideas in the initiatory teachings of Ibn Arab are to be found here, expressed in the
form of allusions, in these few lines of great doctrinal density. Insofar as it is the expression of
mans extreme powerlessness, all neediness felt by man reveals his need for 'the One who is
sufficient unto Himself. It is like a cry for help albeit mute addressed to the Eternal. And
because the theophanies necessarily assume the forms of the receptacle in which they are
contained, when God responds to this call, He does so by revealing Himself in the form of what
is expected of Him. Just as Moses, when he had gone in search of fire, saw God in the form of
the Burning Bush, so too the man who is dying of thirst searches for Him in the place in which
he longs with all his being to find water.[25] So too, the one who has gone in search of the
Prophet is certain to meet his Lord at the end of his quest. Moreover and this second point is
the essential theme of the passage he will have the most perfect knowledge there could be:

The manifestation of God in the mirror of the Prophet is the most perfect, the most accurate,
and the most beautiful; when you perceive Him in the mirror of the Prophet you perceive a
perfection that you cannot perceive when contemplating Him in your own mirror. Therefore,
do not try to contemplate God anywhere but in the mirror of the Prophet, grace and peace be
upon him.[26]
In fact, insofar as the Prophet or, more exactly the 'Muhammadian Reality of which he is the
personification is the perfect 'copy of God (nuskhat al-haqq), and thus possesses all the
divine attributes, 'The knowledge he has of God is the same knowledge that God has of
Himself, as Jl expressed it.[27] Consequently, it is by walking in the footsteps of the Prophet,
or in other words by adhering closely to him as the 'excellent model (uswa hasana, Q. 33:21),
that the wayfarer attains the highest knowledge of God:
Persist then in following and imitating him, and do not set foot in a place where you do not
see the footprint of your Prophet; set your foot in the imprint of his if you want to be of those
who have reached the highest degrees of sublime contemplation[28]
Whatever meaning he gives to the term l, 'close ones or 'mirage, clearly for Ibn Arab the
expression l Muhammad does not specifically refer to the family of the Prophet stricto
sensu. What is the position with the concept of ahl al-bayt?
We are given an essential indication on this in the Jawb mustaqm, a treatise in which Ibn
Arab responds, point by point, to Tirmidhs questionnaire, as he does in Chapter 73 of
the Futht, but using much more succinct wording. Thus, to the question 'What is the
meaning of his expression Ahlu bayt amn li ummat?,[29] he limits his reply to quoting the
saying attributed to the Prophet: 'Salmn is one of us, the People of the house (Salmn
minn ahlu l-bayt).[30]
A pithy reply, certainly, but nonetheless enlightening. An eminent Companion, Salmn had no
bond of kinship to the Prophet, and moreover he was a foreigner, a non-Arab (ajam).
[31] Thus, Ibn Arab means that blood ties are not a priori an indispensable condition for
claiming the privilege of belonging to the Prophets family. But what then are the criteria which
in his view define belonging to the ahl al-bayt? And in what way does he see the singular case
of Salmn constituting a reference point on the matter?
Doubtless the deliberately elliptical nature of the Jawb is intended only to sharpen the
readers curiosity and inspire him to seek further elucidation in other texts throughout the
corpus of akbarian literature. Such explanation is to be found in Chapter 29 of the Futht, the
title of which informs us that it has bearing on 'knowledge of the secret of Salmn by virtue of
which the Prophet admitted him to the ahl al-bayt, and that of the spiritual poles from whom
he inherited it.[32] Very significantly, this is the theme of the ubdiyya mahda, 'pure
servanthood, which Ibn Arab addresses as a first step. This expression means for him the
ultimate state of spiritual perfection, that of the awliy, who, having disentangled themselves
from all will of their own, from all creatures and things, to the point of fully realising the
sentence in the Futht which summarises the essential teaching of theshaykh al-akbar on the
matter: 'God wishes you to be with Him as you were when you were not a thing.[33] No
more, no less. It goes without saying that only the most perfect among the awliy, those who

are admitted to the supreme 'station of closeness described earlier, arrive at this hill-crest.
[34]
Ibn Arab says that in any event it is because the Prophet had realised the state of pure
servanthood most fully and completely and in all its aspects, that God in return granted to him
and his family to be absolutely 'purified, conforming to what is prescribed in verse 33 of the
Sura Al-Ahzb, mentioned above, 'God wants only to remove uncleanness from you, oh People
of the House, and to purify you fully. It follows, according to the author of the Futht, that
whoever is attached to the 'People of the House is also purified, otherwise the Prophets family
would be tainted with uncleanness. As the Prophet had expressly admitted Salmn to his
family, Salmn necessarily enjoyed the prerogative granted to the ahl al-bayt.[35]Ibn Arab
emphasises, however, that there is a difference between those who are purified by virtue of
their attachment to the Prophets family (the case of Salmn is an excellent example of this
but, as we shall see, by no means unique) and the ahl al-bayt proper, i.e. those who belong to
the blood-line of the Prophet. This second group, he states, 'are the purified; or rather, they
are the very essence of purity! (hum ayn al-tahra).[36] This is an important point because it
allows us a glimpse of the fact that Ibn Arabs view of the innate pre-excellence of the ahl albayt is different from Tirmidhs.
Well and good. But exactly what meaning does the concept of tathr (purification) carry in Q.
33:33, according to Ibn Arab? What is his view of its consequences from the legal point of
view? What attitude does this involve on the part of the commonality of the faithful towards
the ahl al-bayt? Ibn Arab examines such issues in detail and without evasion in the following
part of the text, and insofar as they touch closely on the principal issues of dissension between
Sunnis and Shiis, it is surprising that this chapter (29) in the Futht has not been made the
subject of an in-depth study by those who would see Ibn Arab as a 'crypto-Shii.
Be that as it may, Ibn Arabs position on the first point is unambiguous. Tathr is here
synonymous with isma (immunity from error),[37] a term redolent with meaning for Sunni
theologians, and even more so for their Shii colleagues, referring to the idea that the prophets
and the Imams in the Shii perspective are exempt from sin.[38] It is therefore important
to define what this concept means for Ibn Arab.
The first striking thing in the texts in which he addresses the subject[39] is that he always
refers to verse 2 of the Sura Al-Fath (Q. 48:2), which paradoxically seems to invalidate
the isma dogma, since it announces to the Prophet that God has pardoned all his sins, those
past and those to come, 'li yaghfira laka Llh m taqaddama min dhanbika wa m taakhkhara
('That Allah may forgive thee thy faults of the past and those to follow). Commentators
mostly avoid the problem by arguing that the faults referred to are minor faults (saghir),
committed inadvertently (sahwan).[40]
Ibn Arabs hermeneutic approach is quite different and draws, as always, on the literal
meaning in which all contradictions are resolved. What this verse states is, he says, that divine
forgiveness (ghafr) precedes the committing of a sin (sabaqat al maghfira wuq al-dhanab).
[41] Given that ghafretymologically means 'veil (sitr), two possibilities are conceivable: either
the veil is interposed between the occurrence of sin and the person who benefits from
the ghafr, in which case he cannot in any way commit sin of any kind, or the veil is interposed
between him and the divine punishment which must normally ensue from the sins which he

has committed.[42] The first case quite obviously applies to the person of the Prophet, who is
consequently, strictly and literally masm, 'impeccable.[43]
The second possibility applies to cases involving certain awliy[44] and certainly the ahl albayt. Sin is indeed the worst of all forms of uncleanness there can be, and according to Ibn
Arab, as verse 33 of the Sura Al-Ahzb guarantees the utter purity of the ahl al-bayt, it
necessarily follows that the latter, like the Prophet, benefit from this ghufrn, this divine
absolution solemnly proclaimed in the second verse of the Sura Al-Fath (Q. 48:2). This is
precisely where their essential state of purity comes from; and it is by virtue of the pardon
which God has inalienably granted them and which absolves them in advance of all sin that
they are mutahharn, 'purified.[45] In other words, the isma in question, as applying to
the ahl al-bayt and unlike the Prophet, does not at all mean that they are incapable of
wrongdoing, but that in their case, these acts do not have the status of dhanab, 'sin, in the
eyes of God and that consequently they are exempt from divine punishment.[46] Ibn Arab
notes, moreover, that this forgiveness will only manifest in the Hereafter and that in this world
the ahl al-bayt are subject to legal penalties when they infringe the law.[47]
Ibn Arab emphasises, however, that it is incumbent upon every Muslim to firmly believe that
God has already pardoned the ahl al-bayt for all the wrongdoing that they might be likely to
commit, and hence to abstain from blaming them in any way, even when one might oneself be
the victim of their actions.[48] 'If you truly loved God and His Envoy, he states, 'then you
would love the People of the Envoys House. You would find beautiful all that comes from
them to you which goes against your nature or desire, and rejoice that it is happening to
you.[49]
In short, on the question of knowing to whom the expression ahl al-bayt applies, Ibn Arabs
response is once again unequivocal. It applies, on the one hand, to the shuraf, i.e. the
descendants of Ftima, and, on the other, to those like Salmn, who are linked to the ahl albayt and who thus equally enjoy divine absolution as promised in the second verse of the
Sura Al-Fath.[50]
The fact remains that this scarcely clarifies the unusual status of Salmn and the nature of the
secret which earned him the honour of being attached to the Prophets family. The information
on the subject mainly appears at the beginning and end of the chapter, but can only be
properly understood if we correlate it with other texts of the Futht in which Ibn Arab brings
in the figure of Salmn.
The first lines of Chapter 29 bear, as I have said, on the concept of 'pure servanthood, in
support of which Ibn Arab begins by quoting two hadiths, one after the other. The first speaks
of the mawl, emancipated slaves:[51] 'A familys freedman is part of the family (mawl alqawm minhum).[52] In fact, according to the account recorded notably by Ibn Ishq, Salmn
was a slave in Medina at the time of his conversion to Islam and was freed thanks to the
Prophet, who arranged the conditions of his manumission. Because of this, he has the status
of the Prophets mawl, which de factoattaches him to the ahl al-bayt.
Yet the 'secret which is the basis of his privileged relationship with the Prophet does not lie in
this socio-legal status, which incidentally he shares with many other mawl[53] but, quite
obviously, in his sainthood. The second hadith mentioned by Ibn Arab in the introductory

paragraph is very revealing in this respect: 'The men of the Qurn are the men of God and His
elite (ahlu l-Qurn hum ahlu Llh wa khssatuhu).[54] Now, if we refer back to the beginning
of Chapter 73 of the Futht in which Ibn Arab lists the various categories of saint, we find
that one of them exactly matches the terms of this hadith,[55] with Ibn Arab saying
specifically that it is one of those 'whose character is the Qurn. This is once again an allusion
to the highest degree of spiritual perfection, which is, first and foremost, that of the Prophet
'his character was the Qurn, as his wife isha stated;[56] and secondly, of those spiritual
persons who, having reached the pinnacle of ittib al-nab (following the prophet), are
wedded to his spiritual states. 'He whose character is the Qurn, he states elsewhere on the
subject, 'he has raised up the Prophet from his tomb.[57] It is also noteworthy, in Chapter 29,
that Ibn Arab illustrates this hadith by reporting his own experience of 'absolute servanthood,
which forms a sort of seal on the highest degree of sainthood.
But it is only after expanding on the concept of ahl al-bayt that Ibn Arab really addresses the
case of Salmn and states that he had received his spiritual inheritance from the Poles who
attained the supreme station of 'absolute servanthood.[58] The mention of Khidr as being one
of these Poles is also an indication to take into account.[59] It means that Ibn Arab has most
particularly in mind those of the awliy he considers to be the authentic spiritual heirs of the
Prophet, the Malmiyya.[60] Two other texts from the Futht clarify this point. On the one
hand, there is a passage at the end of Chapter 309, which is entirely devoted to
the Malmiyya, in which Ibn Arab states, 'The Malmiyya constitute the supreme category [of
saints] and are the lords of this exemplary Way. Salmn al-Frisi was one of the most
eminent among them and one of the Prophets Companions in this station, which is the divine
station in this world.[61] In addition, in Chapter 14, in a long passage on the 'station of
general prophethood, and we have seen that this is the ultimate station which the saints can
attain, Ibn Arab notes that the spiritual people who attain this station are those who preserve
the 'spiritual states (ahwl) of the Prophet and his knowledge, and he mentions Salmn
among those who reached that spiritual abode in the Prophets lifetime.[62]
Thus we have three indications of the spiritual status of Salmn, at once precise and mutually
complementary, since each one of them expresses the idea that this illustrious Companion of
the Prophet was in his time a saint out of the ordinary in the truest sense. He indeed belongs
to the category of the Malmiyya, who are, in the eyes of the shaykh al-akbar, the most
perfect of the awliy in that they completely adhere to the maximum extent possible, to the
model of sainthood arising from the specific heritage of the Prophet. In addition, he had
arrived at the 'station of closeness and that is given only to a very few Malmiyya, those who
have fully realised 'pure servanthood and whom Ibn Arab has designated the Afrd, the
'Singular Ones.[63]
It is clear from all this that for Ibn Arab the concept of ahl al-bayt has two distinct meanings.
On the one hand, it means the Prophets family in the usual meaning of the term, i.e. the ahl
al-kis, which goes without saying, and the shuraf, the descendants of Ftima. The bloodties which unite them to the Prophet guarantee them a sort of isma since they will be
resurrected maghfran lahum, 'forgiven, and thus exempt from all divine punishment. He
includes in this, moreover, an unwavering devotion from the faithful without distinction of
person, a point on which Ibn Arab insists. The Prophets family is one whole, and the love
given and due to them may not be partial.[64]

But added to these descendants 'according to the flesh are descendants 'according to the
spirit (with the understanding that the same person may in some cases combine both
lineages). Indeed, following Tirmidh, Ibn Arab considers that his spiritual heirs,
the Malmiyya, whom he designates by the generic term 'Muhammadians and who thus have
the specific characteristic of having realised 'pure servanthood fully and in all its aspects,
which was the characteristic of the spiritual attitude of the Prophet and his relation to God, do
also belong to the 'Prophets House.
It is moreover this meaning of 'spiritual posterity that Ibn Arab considers in the long passage
in Chapter 73 of the Futht in which he replies, this time in a discursive manner, to Tirmidhs
famous question on the meaning of the hadith 'Ahlu bayt amn li ummat.[65] Having yet
again emphasised that 'servanthood is the essential attribute of the Prophet (sifatuhu), he
declares: 'The People of his House are those who possess the same attribute as him [i.e. pure
servanthood].[66]
And these are the exceptional beings whose renunciation perpetuates the 'excellent model (Q.
33:21) embodied by the Prophet during his lifetime, who are the guardians of his umma, his
community. They especially protect it against the greatest peril, which is that of eternal
damnation. Indeed, what particularly interests Ibn Arab here is the soteriological role that the
tribe of Muhammadian saints will play in the Hereafter, when the hour of the Last Judgement
has sounded.
I have already had occasion in an earlier study to address at length Ibn Arabs doctrine of
universal salvation and its scriptural foundations.[67]There are many texts in which he
examines the question, and although they all converge towards a certain form of beatitude,
more or less long term, for all men without exception, the essential idea being that the mercy
of God will absolutely outweigh His just anger, yet the argument on which they rest is nothing
less than repetitive. Each of them in fact views the final triumph of the divine rahma according
to a different perspective, which always unfolds towards the light of this or that verse, or, in
this case, this or that hadith, and in the meditation on which Ibn Arab draws the certainty
that 'God will mercify everything.[68]
Thus, he here interprets the hadith Ahlu bayt amn li ummat as a joyful prediction. 'Consider
then, he exclaims, 'the Divine mercy accorded to theumma of Muhammad which these words
contain![69] He then points out that, just as God preserved the honour of the 'Prophets
House in this lower world by imposing very strict rules of conduct on his wives, so he will
watch over the safeguard of that honour in the hereafter by not allowing a single member of
his umma to eternally suffer divine punishment, 'due to the blessing of the ahl al-bayt. Now,
Ibn Arab says this many times over and repeats it in this passage,
The Community of the Prophet is, from one point of view, the whole of humanity, inasmuch as
the Prophet was sent to all mankind in conformity with what Revelation proclaims (Q. 34:28),
at first carrying out his mandate in an invisible manner by the intermediary of the prophets
who went before him and who were his 'substitutes (nuwwb), and then in a manifest manner
from the moment that he was raised among men. Thus theumma of Muhammad stretches
from Adam to the last man there will be. From this point of view, all belong to Muhammad and
all will receive the blessing of the ahl al-bayt and all will be blessed.[70]

'He who loves God in all sincerity, says Ibn Arab in the long chapter of the Futht devoted to
love, 'is maqtl, killed, annihilated.[71] It is thus for the Muhammadian saints, those 'pure
servants who out of love for God have rid themselves of their ego and all things to the point of
becoming 'without name and without quality.[72] A sacrificial death, given as a whole-offering
to the 'Lord of the worlds, in exchange for which these 'simple annihilated souls[73] ask for
nothing, but by virtue of which God undertakes to pay them the blood price (al-diya), the
promise that in recompense for their exemplary sainthood, no one shall eternally incur divine
anger.
by Claude Addas, translated by James Lees
Reprinted from the Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Vol. 50, 2011.

Notes
[1]This does not prevent many Sunni authors from mentioning it without questioning its
authenticity, especially so with Hakm Tirmidh in the. Nawdir al-usl (Beirut, 1992), II, p.
101, asl 222; Muhibb al-Dn Tabar, Dharir al-uqba, ed. F. Bauden (Cairo, 2004), no. 57; Ibn
Hajar al-Haytam, Al-Sawiq al-muhriqa (Istanbul, 2003), p.261, no. 12.
[2]See Tabar,. Dharir al-uqba, Ch. 5; Ibn Hajar, Sawiq, pp.260ff.
[3]Cf.. EI2, 'Ahl al-bayt; M. Amir-Moezzi, 'Considrations sur lexpression dn Al, Aux
origines de la foi Shiite, in Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenlndischen Gesellschaft, 150/1
(Mainz, 2000), pp.2968; M. Sharon, 'Ahl al-Bayt People of the House, in JSAI, 8 (1986),
pp.16984.
[4]Q. 11:73, 28:12, 33:33..
[5]Tabar,. Jmi al-bayn (Beirut, n.d.), XXII, pp.57.
[6]For more on this, cf.. EI2, 'mubhala; Massignon, Opera minora (Paris, 1969) I, pp.550
72.
[7]Ibn Kathr,. Tafsr al-Qurn al-azm (Beirut, 1999), IV, pp.22021.
[8].Nawdir, II, pp.103108.
[9]Concerning the famous hadith '.Inn trikun fkum al-thaqalayn, kitbu Llh wa itrat; cf.
Wensinck, Concordance de la tradition musulmane (Leiden, 1955), I, p.271. In an appendix to
the Manzil al-qurba (ed. Khalid Zahr, Rabat, 2002, pp.938), Tirmidh states that this hadith
is from the 'People of Kfa who, according to him, are hardly trustworthy in the matter of
transmission due to their Shii sympathies; even were it authentic, he explains that this hadith
simply means that the faithful should respect the rights of the 'People of the house, in the
usual sense of the term not that they possess any authority. In the Nawdir (I, pp.163
4, asl 50), Tirmidh also comments on this hadith without discussing its authenticity, but he
nevertheless stresses that one should not conclude that the ahl al-bayt enjoy isma,
impeccability being the exclusive prerogative of the prophets.

[10]More precisely this refers to the. awliy whom Tirmidh designates as the Abdl or
the Siddqn; cf. Nawdir, II, p.103; Kitb Khatm al-awliy, ed. O. Yahya (Beirut, 1965), pp.
344 and 3456; ed. B. Radtke (Beirut, 1992), K. Srat al-awliy, pp.445; see also Radtke
and OKane, The Concept of Sainthood in Early Mysticism (Richmond, 1996), pp.109, 111.
[11]The. Nawdir was published for the first time in ah1293 in Istanbul.
[12]Nabhn writes about this in detail in an addendum to his. Jmi karmt alawliy entitled Asbb al-talf (Beirut, n.d.), pp.3323.
[13]Nabhn often quotes the. Futht, but there is nothing to confirm that he always
understood it; see M. Chodkiewicz on this subject, 'La somme des miracles des saints de
Nabhn, in Miracles et karma, ed. D. Aigle (Brepols, 2000), pp.60722.
[14].Kitb Khatm al-awliy, pp.344 and 3456; Radtke and OKane, Concept of Sainthood,
pp.109, 111.
[15]Cf. M. Chodkiewicz,. Un ocan sans rivage (Paris, 1992), pp.456, 51.
[16].Futht, Bulq edn, ah 1329 (henceforth Fut.) I.5456.
[17]Formulaic prayer known by the name of. tasliya Ibrhmiyya which appears in most of
the canonical collections; cf. Wensinck, III, p.282.
[18]Ibn Arab emphasises that one should understand that the Prophet made this
recommendation following a divine revelation, in the certitude that this request by the faithful
would be granted..
[19]Wensinck, II, p.260..
[20]Cf. on this theme, M. Chodkiewicz,. Le sceau des saints (Paris, 1986), pp.77, 1756;
trans. by L. Sherrard into English as The Seal of the Saints(Cambridge, 1993), pp.5051, 114,
137.
[21]Ibn Arab states that. ijtihd, interpretation of the law, is part of nubuwwat altashr entrusted to the rifn; if, however, these latter belong to the family of the Prophet,
they combine the status of the l Muhammad with that of the ahl al-bayt, as was the case for
Hasan and Husayn.
[22]Cf. alwaraq.net,. Lisn al-Arab, 'l.
[23]This questionnaire appears in the. Khatm al-awliy, ed. O. Yahya, pp.142325; ed. B.
Radtke, pp.2029; Radtke and OKane, Concept of Sainthood, pp.7186. It should be noted
that the numbering and sometimes formulation of the questions vary between the different
editions.
[24].Fut. II.1278; O.Y. edn, XIII.153ff.

[25]On this subject, see the interpretation given by Ibn Arab of verse 39 of the sura. Al-Nr,
in Fut. I.193; II.269, 338; and the highly clarifying remarks by M. Chodkiewicz, 'Matre
Eckhart and Ibn Arab in Mmoire dominicaine, no. 15, p.26; and in Un ocan sans rivage, p.
61, and n.18 on p.177.
[26].Fut. III.2512.
[27]Jl,. Al-Kamlt al-ilhiyya fi l-sift al-Muhammadiyya (Beirut, 2004), p.104.
[28].Fut. III.252.
[29].Jawb in K. Khatm al-awliy, O.Y. edn (Beirut, 1965), p.320; this is the one hundred
and fiftieth question which precedes the one relating to the expression l Muhammad.
[30]This hadith, which does not appear in any of the canonical collections, is quoted notably
by Ibn Ishq in. Sra (Beirut, 2001), p.392; on the different listings of this hadith, cf.
Massignon, Opera Minora, I, 'Salmn Pak, pp.4534.
[31]On the unusual destiny of Salmn, cf.. Sra pp.86ff; Massignon, op.cit., I, pp.443
83; EI2, 'Salmn.
[32].Fut. I.1959; O.Y. edn, III.22742.
[33].Fut. II.13; O.Y. edn, XII.321.
[34]On the notion of 'pure servanthood, cf. Chodkiewicz,. Un ocan sans rivage, pp.15261.
[35].Fut. O.Y. edn, III.22930.
[36]Ibid, III.230..
[37]Ibid..
[38]On. isma, cf. EI2 'isma.
[39].Fut. I.622; II.359; IV.145, 490, where Ibn Arab states that Q. 48:2 is a divine
indication of the Prophets isma.
[40]For the many interpretations of this verse, cf. Tabar,. Jmi al-bayn, juz XXVI, p.42;
Rz, Al-Tafsr al-kabr (Tehran, n.d.), pp.789; Qurtub, Al-Jmi li ahkm al-qurn (Cairo,
1939), vol. XVI, p.263; see also C. Addas, Une victoire clatante (n.p., 2005), pp.53ff.
[41].Fut. I.622; II.359.
[42].Fut. I.622.
[43].Jawb, question 157, p.325.

[44]Ibn Arab describes on several occasions in the. Futht (I.622, 661; II.491, 5123,
553; IV.145) the particular case of those awliy who benefit from divine absolution, like
the ahl al-bayt. This is supported by two hadiths: the first (Muslim, Fadil al-sahaba, 161)
concerns the combatants at Badr, of whom the Prophet said: 'What do you know about it? It
may be that God has seen the People of Badr and said: do what you want, for I have [already]
pardoned you. The second (Muslim, Tawba, 29), to which he refers frequently, describes the
specific case of a servant who, each time he commits a sin, immediately asks for Gods
forgiveness, and at the third offence God states: 'My servant has sinned and yet he knew that
he has a Lord who forgives sins and sanctions him. Do what you will, I have [already] forgiven
you! This affirmation means, according to Ibn Arab, that as far as this believer is concerned
(and on condition that he hears the divine statement addressed to him; see Fut. II.215), every
form of tahjr (prohibition) is suspended, and all that remains in his case is the legal position
of mubh, that which is allowable. Ibn Arab (Fut. I.233) compares this suspension
oftahjr with what happened to Abraham when he was cast into the fire (Q. 21:69) without
suffering injury: the principle governing fire, which normally implies the generation of flames,
was on this occasion suspended. In the same way, when these spiritual ones commit wrong, it
may appear as such but from the divine point of view and only from that it is devoid of the
status of sin, as a result of which it attracts no divine punishment; in other words,
these awliy, like the ahl al-bayt, remain subject to legal penalties in this world.
[45].Fut. O.Y. edn, III.2301.
[46].Fut. I.622; II.513.
[47].Fut. O.Y. edn, III.231; we should recall (cf. above, n.9) that Tirmidh believes
that isma is the exclusive entitlement of the prophets, but he really has in mind the Shii
dogma of isma which assigns 'impeccability to the imams in the strict sense of the term,
while Ibn Arab envisages it in connection with the ahl al-bayt as a form of absolution granted
throughout eternity by God.
[48]Ibid, III.234ff..
[49]Ibid, III.238. These few lines summarise several long passages that Ibn Arab dedicates
to the duty of veneration of the. ahl al-bayt, which reveals the importance which he attaches
to it.
[50]Ibid, III.2301..
[51]For the various accepted meanings of. mawl, cf. EI2, 'mawl.
[52]Cf. Wensinck, VII, p.333..
[53]See the list of the. mawl of the Prophet given, for example, in Tabar, Mohammad,
sceau des prophtes, trans. Zotenberg (Paris, 1980), p.331.
[54]Wensinck, V, p.346..
[55].Fut. II.20.

[56]Cf. Muslim,. Musfirn, 139, which gives a variant of this tradition attributed to isha;
for Ibn Arabs interpretation of this, see in particular Fut.III.36 and IV.60.
[57].Fut. IV.61.
[58].Fut. O.Y. edn, III.233.
[59]Ibid, III.239..
[60]To understand all the implications of the often allusive remarks given in this chapter (29)
on the spiritual status of Salmn, one requires a solid background in akbarian hagiology,
especially Ibn Arabs doctrine concerning the. Malmiyya; on this subject see the detailed
study by M. Chodkiewicz, 'Les Malmiyya dans la doctrine dIbn Arab, in Melmis-Bayrmis,
tudes sur trois mouvements mystiques musulmans (Istanbul, 1998), pp.1527.
[61].Fut. III.36.
[62]Ibid, I.151..
[63]Ibn Arab notes (.Fut. O.Y. edn, III.233) that these spiritual persons who have fully
realised 'pure servanthood and thus are directly attached to God Himself (cf. Q. 15:42: 'My
servants (ibd), you have no power over them) are superior to those who attach themselves
to creatures, even though they belong to the Prophets blood-line.
[64]Ibid, IV.139..
[65]Ibid, II.1267..
[66]Ibid, II.126; note that here Ibn Arab again quotes the hadith '.ahlu l-Qurn and the
one about Salmn (Salmn minn) so as to define the sense which he gives to the
expression ahl al-bayt.
[67].Une victoire clatante, pp.2579.
[68].Fut. II.220.[69].Fut. II.126.[70].Fut. II.127.
[71].Fut. II.350, 354.[72]Ibid, IV.13..
[73]This expression is taken from the title of a beautiful work by Marguerite Porete,. Le
miroir des mes simples et ananties (Paris, 1984).

The Encompassing Heart

Unified vision for a unified world
Ibn 'Arabi, the great formulator of Sufism, dramatically illustrates the unlimited vastness of the
heart of the gnostic in saying that the heart of the gnostic encompasses God, whereas His
mercy does not.[2] The mercy of God is vastly broad as illustrated in the Qur'an, "My mercy
encompasses all things" (Q. 7: 156), but it is not capable of encompassing God. The heart of
the gnostic is broader than the mercy of God. God is the All-Embracing (al-wsi'), the AllEncompassing (al-muht), and the All-Comprehensive or the Collector (al-jmi'), but the heart
of the gnostic is capable of embracing Him because of its unlimited vastness. God through
a hadth quds says, "My heavens and My earth embrace Me not, but the heart of My faithful
servant does embrace Me."
Seyyed Hossein Nasr, a noted Iranian scholar, impressively describes the centrality of the heart
to the human state in saying that the heart is the center of the human microcosm, at the
same time the center of the physical body, the vital energies, the emotions, and the soul, as
well as the meeting place between the human and the celestial realms where the spirit
resides. How remarkable is this reality of the heart, that mysterious center which from the
point of view of our earthly existence seems so small, and yet as the Prophet Muhammad says
it is the Throne (al-'arsh) of God the All-Merciful (al-rahmn), the Throne that encompasses
the whole universe.[3] Ibn 'Arabi says,
The heart is His Throne and not delimited by any specific attribute, but it possesses all the
divine attributes and names. Just as the All-Merciful possesses all the Most Beautiful Names
[Q. 17: 110], the Throne possesses all the Most Supreme Attributes.[4]
When God created the earth of your body, He created within it the Ka'ba that is your heart. He
made the heart house the noblest house in the faithful man.[5]
God took the heart of His servant as a house, because He made it the locus of knowledge of
Him the gnostic (irfn) knowledge, not the theoretical (nazar) knowledge. He defended the
house and protected it jealously, lest it be a locus for others.[6]
The heart of the gnostic fluctuates at every moment in accordance with the form of God's selfdisclosure to it. The heart of the gnostic colors at every moment in the color of the form of
God's self-disclosure to it. The fluctuation of the heart (taqallub al-qalb), in the metaphysical
sense, is identical with God's self-disclosure (tajall al-haqq). In principle, the heart in such
state is no longer human awareness to be distinguished from God's self-disclosure. The heart
itself in its constant inner fluctuation is not other than the various forms of God's selfdisclosure. Conversely, the incessant transformation of God (tajall al-haqq) is the constant
fluctuation of the heart (tajall al-qalb). In this level, the self of the gnostic is identical with
"He-ness" (huwiyyah) of the Real (al-haqq).
From his own self he knows himself, and his own self is not other than the He-ness of the
Real. Similarly, everything in the world of being, now and later, is not other than the He-ness
of the Real; certainly, it is He-ness itself.[7]

This idea fits a hadth of the Prophet, may God bless him and grant him peace, frequently
presented by Ibn 'Arabi as "Whoever knows himself knows his Lord."
The heart of the gnostic accepts any form of belief. Ibn 'Arabi expresses his spiritual
experience as a gnostic which has the heart that is encompassing and receptive of every form.
This Sufi sings such experience as follows:
O marvel! A garden amidst fires!
My heart has become receptive of every form: it is a pasture for gazelles, a monastery for
Christian monks,
A temple for idols, the Ka'bah of the pilgrim,
the tables of the Torah, and the book of the Qur'an.
I follow the religion of love. Wherever its camel mounts turn,
that is my religion and my faith.[8]
The gnostic, despite being receptive of all forms of belief, remains untied to any belief. "If a
gnostic ('rif) is really a gnostic, he cannot stay tied to one form of belief."[9]
Whatever his place is in the Divine Knowledge, which is essential knowledge, he remains in
that place; knowing the kernel of all belief he sees the interior and not the exterior. He
recognises the thing, whose kernel he knows, whatever apparel it puts on, and in this matter
his circle is large. Without looking at whatever clothing they appear under in the exterior, he
reaches into the origin of those beliefs and witnesses them from every possible place.[10]
In the eye of Ibn 'Arabi, someone who criticizes or scolds other beliefs in God is an ignorant
person because God in his own belief, like in the beliefs he criticizes, is not God as He is in
Himself because God as He is in Himself cannot be known. Such a person only acknowledges
God in the form of his own belief or the belief of his own group, and denies God in the forms of
other various beliefs, whereas God who manifests Himself in all the different forms of beliefs is
one and the same. Ibn 'Arabi's criticism, if it must be consistent, is addressed to every person
blaming and scolding other beliefs in God which differ from his own belief, either in the circle
of people of the same religion or in the circle of people of different religions. The
exclusivist 'ulam'(plural of 'lim, "religious scholar") are the target of Ibn 'Arabi's criticism
because they blame and scold other beliefs in God which differ from their own beliefs.
These 'ulam' "deify" their own beliefs, schools of thought, or theological schools (madhhib,
plural of madhhab, "school"). They limit the Unlimited God within their limited beliefs.
Ibn 'Arabi reminds us that we should not tie ourselves to a specific "knotting" ('aqd) [i.e.
belief, doctrine, dogma, or tenet] and deny any other "knottings". The Shaykh al-Akbar (the
Greatest Master) says,
So, beware lest you restrict yourself to a specific "knotting" ('aqd) [i.e. belief, doctrine,
dogma, or tenet concerning the Real] and so deny any other "knotting", for you would forfeit
much good, indeed you would forfeit the true knowledge of what is [the Real]. Therefore, be
then, within yourself, a Prime Matter (hayl) for the forms of all beliefs, for God is too vast

and too great to be confined within one "knotting" to the exclusion of another, for He has said,
"Wherever you turn, there is the face of God", (Q. 2: 115) without mentioning any particular
direction.[11]
The true knowledge of God, according to the Sufi of Andalusia, is the knowledge not tied to
any form of belief or religion. This is the knowledge belonging to the "gnostics" (al-'rifn).
Therefore, the gnostics never reject God in any belief, sect, school of thought or religion. This
means that to the gnostics, God in all beliefs, sects, religions or schools of thought, is one and
the same. Ibn 'Arabi says, "he who frees Him from any delimitation will never deny Him and
will affirm Him in every form in which He self-transmutes."[12]
The heart is a mirror that reflects everything around it. The form seen through a mirror
conforms to the form of the mirror. Ibn 'Arabi says, "Know that mirrors have different shapes
and modify the objects seen by the observer in accordance with their shapes, whether the
mirrors are tall, wide, curved, bent, round, small, large, numerous, and so on whatever is
possibly given by the shape of the mirror."[13] The clearness of image in a mirror depends on
the quality of the clearness of the mirror. The clearer a mirror, the clearer and more perfect
the image it reflects. On the contrary, the dimmer or darker a mirror, the more unclear the
image it reflects. When the heart is veiled by the screens of rust, lust and strong worldly
temptation, the screens hamper a human being from seeing the unseen world.
But when man uses the mirror of his heart and polishes it with invocation and the recitation of
the Qur'an, he thereby obtains some light. God has a light radiating to all existent things,
which is called "the light of existence" (nr al-wujd).[14]
Purity of the heart is a path to reach love of God. Purity of the heart of the seeker is realized
first by purifying the heart from any disgraceful characteristic that God dislikes, so he becomes
able to liberate his heart from anything that God detests, with his characteristic that God
loves. Therefore "the reality of love will not come until after the heart has been made safe
from the turbidities of the soul."[15] Love of God will fulfil the heart when the heart has been
purified from hatred, resentment, spite, avarice, egoism, and other disgraceful characteristics.
Love resides in the clean and purified heart. The heart of the gnostic is a clean, clear and
purified heart filled by love. A gnostic is a lover. If a gnostic is truly a gnostic, he is necessarily
a lover. If he is not a lover, he is not a gnostic. Gnosis (ma'rifah) and love (mahabbah) are
fused in the gnostic.
According to Kabir Helminski, the eventual purification of the heart can be understood through
four main activities or stages:
1. Liberating oneself from psychological distortions and complexes that prevent forming a
healthy, integrated individuality.
2. Freeing oneself from the slavery to the attractions of the world, all of which are secondary
reflections of qualities within the heart itself.
3. Transcending the subtlest veil, or illusion, which is the self and selfishness.

4. Centering oneself and all one's attention in the reality of divine Love, which has the power
to unify our fragmented being and reconnect us with the unified field of all levels of existence.
[16]
The first three stages minimizing our psychological distortions, overcoming the slavery of our
attractions of the world, and seeing beyond the veil of selfishness prepare us to make our
contact with the reality of divine Love. Without the power of Love we can only follow our egos
and desires of the world. Without the power of Love in the heart we suffer fragmentation,
dispersion in multiplicity.[17] Without the power of Love we have lost the power of unified
vision within which a unified world is seen.
Real love transcends racial, ethnic, national, cultural, political and religious boundaries. Real
love sees only one world, "the unified world" if you like you can equally well call it "the
undivided world" inhabited by one community of all human beings, one family of all human
beings, even when expanded, one family of all creatures.
In the view of Ibn 'Arabi, movement (harakah) in all its manifestations comes from love.
Movement is a symbol of life and existence, while stillness (sukn) is a symbol of death and
non-existence. Every movement and every manifestation of existence is generated by love
flowing in all things and manifesting itself in all forms. Love is the cause of creation, which is
nothing other than the self-disclosure of God in the forms of the entities of the possibilities. In
other words, love is the cause of creation of the world. Love is the essential principle on which
the existence rests. Love permeates every particle of the world and boosts all things for selfmanifestation in the forms it generates. Ibn 'Arabi says,
The movement is always the movement of love, but the observer who sees it is veiled from
this by its other less important causes. This is because the origin is the movement of the
world from non-existence, where it was still, into existence. This is why it is said that the affair
is the movement out of stillness. The movement that is the existence of the world is a
movement of love. The Messenger of God, may God bless him and grant him peace, called our
attention in saying, "I was a treasure but was not known, so I loved to be known. [I created
the creatures and made Myself known to them, so they came to know Me]." If it were not for
this love, the world would never have been manifest in itself. Thus its movement from nonexistence into existence is the movement of the Creator's love for it. The world also loves to
witness itself in existence as it did in its latency, so that, in every respect, its movement from
the latency of non-existence into existence is a movement of love from the side of the Real
and from its side.[18]
Love is not only the cause of creation of the world, but is also the cause of its orderliness and
harmony. The movement of the world is the incessantly ordered and harmonious movement.
The world is a regular and harmonious system. That is why the world is called "cosmos", a
word that has become an English word, derived from the Greek noun kosmos, which means
"order" or "good arrangement". The alert minds of the ancient Greeks were quick to see in this
world an appropriate expression for the order, harmony, beauty, and regularity they observed
in the world around them. Because of this reason, kosmos soon came to mean "the world",
that is, the bodily universe.[19] The world as an orderly and harmonious system is a oneness
within which all of its parts are interrelated, interdependent, and inseparable. All phenomena
in the world are manifestations of the basic oneness or the ultimate reality called al-Haqq in

Sufism, Brahman in Hinduism, Dharmakaya in Buddhism, and Tao in Taoism. The fact that the
world is a oneness reminds us of the word "universe", an English word derived from the
Latin universus, "universal", which is a combination of the words unus, "one", and vertere, "to
turn". So universus means "turned or combined into one".[20] The world is the oneness and
totality of existence in all its forms. In a metaphysical sense, the world is the oneness of all
things which cannot be separated and divided.
Empedocles (fifth century bce), a Greek philosopher, statesman and poet, born in Agrigentum
(now Agrigento), Sicily, asserts that all things are composed of four elements: earth, air, fire
and water. Two powers activate and regulate all changes within the world. The two active and
opposing powers are "love" (philotes) and "hatred" (neikos). Love combines these elements,
while hatred separates them into infinitely varied forms. The theory of Empedocles, although it
has metaphysical differences, has similarity to the theory of the mystics of the great religions,
that love has a unifying function in that love is the power that unifies the separated elements
of the world; or if you like you can say that love is the power that unifies the divided world.
All the great religions have preached love for thousands of years. Love has no limitations. Love
includes all creatures, human beings, animals, plants, minerals, earth, air, fire and water. Love
becomes selfless service for all creatures. More astonishing still, unlimited love excludes no
one, and the challenge is to love even enemies. In the heroic epic Mahabharata, we read,
"Even an enemy must be afforded appropriate hospitality when he enters the house; a tree
does not withhold its shade even from those who come to cut it down." In the other
epic, Ramayana, we read, "The nobleman must protect with his life an enemy who is in
distress or who out of fear has surrendered himself to the protection of the enemy." In the
Buddhist story of King Long-Sufferer, who was cut to pieces by the neighboring King
Brahmadatta, before his execution he admonished his son Long-Life, "Enmity is not pacified by
enmity; enmity is pacified by peaceableness." The Jewish Hasidim demand: "In humility, the
pious believer shall not return evil for evil, but forgive those who hate and persecute him, and
also love sinners. He shall say to himself, that in the eyes of God the sinner counts as much as
he himself. How can one hate him whom God loves?" Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount said,
"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may become the sons
of your Father in heaven" (Matt. 5: 4445). Ibn 'Imad, a Sufi Master, says, "The perfect man
shall render good to his enemies, for they do not know what they do. Thus he will be clothed
with the qualities of God, for God always does good to his enemies even though they do not
know him."
Here we may allude to one of the more widely quoted verses of Ibn 'Arabi's Tarjumn alAshwq (The Interpreter of Desires). The line, as quoted above, reads, "I follow the religion of
love. Wherever its camel mounts turn, that is my religion and my faith." Ibn 'Arabi in
his Dhakh'ir al-A'lq (The Treasures of Precious Things), a commentary on the Tarjumn alAshwq, explains that this line refers to God's words, "If you love God, follow me, and God will
love you" (Q. 3: 31). The Shaykh al-Akbar calls the message [i.e. to love God and follow
Muhammad] "the religion of love", and he follows this religion and receives the burdens given
by his Beloved with pleasure and love. To him, there is no more sublime and higher religion
than the religion which is based on love and longing for God whom he worships and believes
in. This is a peculiar prerogative to Muhammadans, that is, Muslims, because Muhammad,
may God bless him and grant him peace, has the station of perfect love and God has made
him "the beloved" (habb), namely "the beloved lover" (muhibb habb).[21] Following the

Prophet Muhammad, may God bless him and grant him peace, is the duty implicit within
following the religion of love. In other words, following Muhammad is the path of following the
religion of love. There is no path of following the religion of love other than following
Muhammad. Without following Muhammad, the religion of love will not be realized.
In the sociological or institutional sense, following Muhammad is to be a Muslim. If someone
wants to be a Muslim, he must say the dual Shahdah(Witnessing), "I bear witness that there
is no god but God and that Muhammad is the Messenger of God." He must also perform the
other pillars of Islam. Essentially, someone does not need to be a Muslim in a sociological or
institutional sense to follow Muhammad. He can be a "muslim" (in lower case) in the real
sense, in the fundamental sense, in the essential sense, without being a formal Muslim or
without being a Muslim in the sociological or institutional sense. The "muslim" in this sense is
"anyone submitting himself to God". Such a person does not follow Islam as an institutional
religion, but follows "islam" as a religion of "submission", that is, a personal religion. Indeed,
the basic meaning of islm is "submission or obedience to God". There is a difference between
Islam as institutional religion and "islam" as personal religion, between Islam as system and
"islam" as attitude, between Islam as manifestation and "islam" as essence, between Islam as
form and "islam" as substance, between Islam as identity and "islam" as quality.
If what is meant by "islam" is "islam" as personal religion, attitude, essence or substance, in
the sense of "submission and obedience to God", then "islam" in this sense can also be found
in other religions and in all forms of spirituality. In Hinduism, for example, there is a teaching
which emphasizes the attitude of submission to God. Pandit Usharbudh Arya, a Hindu figure
belonging to the school of Vedanta Yoga, expresses his absolutely total submission to God
(islm) in saying the following words:
If I do not clasp my hand in worship to Thee, my God, then it is better that I do not have that
hand. If I see with my eye an object in which I do not see You directly or indirectly, my God,
then it is better that I do not have that eye. If I hear with my ear a word which, directly or
indirectly, is not Your name, my God, it is better that I am not possessed of that ear. If I utter
with my mouth a single word in which is not contained an entire hymn of praise to You, my
God, then let that tongue cease to be. In every flicker of my mind, it is You whose flash
becomes my thought, and if there is a flash in my mind that I do not know to be Your flicker,
then take my mind away from me, my God, but come and dwell directly within me.[22]
Arya's words, as quoted here, have reminded me of the attitude of submission and obedience
to God (islm) as the consequence of tawhd (asserting the oneness of God). Such attitude of
submission is expressed in the Qur'an as follows: "My salh and my ritual sacrifice, my living
and my dying are for God, the Lord of the worlds. No associate has He. And this I am
commanded, and I am the first of those who submit themselves to Him" (6: 16263).
The attitude of submission uttered by Arya must be honestly acknowledged as the attitude of
absolutely total submission with his whole mind and body in union with God. I admire the
submission (islm) of this Hindu and envy him because it competes with in fact, if I may say,
it exceeds the submission (islm) I have been practising thus far. However, my belief in
Islam will not decrease at all, much less will I be prompted to convert to Hinduism. On the
contrary, the words, or more appropriately, the words in invocation uttered by Arya have

inspired me to develop the attitude of more perfect submission to God (islm) in order not to
be defeated by the attitude of submission of [the] one whose religion is not called "Islam".
Of course, "obedience and submission to God", "islam" (islm), is accompanied by love of God,
if "islam" is real "islam". Without love of God and also of all His creatures, the obedience and
submission to Him are false, pretending or forced obedience and submission.
Kabir Helminski explains that "the heart includes a spectrum of subconscious faculties for
knowing reality immediately and qualitatively. In other words, the heart is intuitive."[23]
The heart can be understood as the totality of qualitative, subconscious faculties, which
function in a unified way. Once activated, these faculties support and illuminate each other,
much as eye-hand coordination is superior to either touch or sight alone. Although these
functions seem to separate, they serve a unifying purpose, which is to know the unity beyond
multiplicity. They are the subtle nervous system's means of realizing unity.[24]
Concerning the encompassing heart, it is necessary to remember two points. The first is that
the heart of the gnostic possesses a unifying function. The heart's ability to encompass,
embrace or include can be understood as its ability to unify, unite or integrate because of its
unlimited vastness. The second is that love is the power of unifying or combining. The locus of
love is the heart. When the heart is filled by and with love, it possesses the power of unifying
since love is itself the power of unifying. The encompassing heart that is filled by and with love
unifies vision, or makes it unified.
The color of a vision or perspective is determined by a way of thinking or consciousness. In
general, the way of thinking throughout history can be classified into two kinds: rational
thinking and intuitive thinking. Rational thinking, frequently also called discursive thinking,
relies on the use of intellect. Rational thinking emphasizes manyness, diversity, difference, and
separation. This is the way of thinking of "either/or". This way of thinking in the history of
Islam is used by exoteric religious scholars of Law, mutakallimn (theologians) and Peripatetic
philosophers. Outside the Islamic tradition, rational thinking dominates many different systems
of philosophy which exist in the West. Intuitive thinking, also frequently called imaginative
thinking, emphasizes the use of heart. Intuitive thinking tends to emphasize oneness, identity
of things, integration, and synthesis. This is the way of thinking of "both/and." This way of
thinking uses the principle of coincidentia oppositorum or the principle of yinyang relationship. This way of thinking is used in the history of Islam by Sufis, Sufi
philosophers or Illuminationist philosophers (hukam' ishrqiyyn). Intuitive thinking is used
in all mystical traditions, the majority of which were born and developed in India and China,
and then in Japan.
With regard to the relationship between God and the world, for example, theologians and
philosophers emphasize the difference and separation between God and the world, the
transcendence of God from the world. On the other hand, mystics or Sufis emphasize oneness
and identity of God and the world, and the synthesis of immanence and transcendence of God,
without eliminating difference between God and the world.
The real gnostics emphasize more essence than manifestation, more substance than form,
more reality than symbol, more quality than identity, more value than label, more "content"

than "skin". It is impossible to change essence into manifestation, because essence remains
essence and manifestation remains manifestation. It is impossible to change substance into
form, because substance remains substance and form remains form. The same nature also
happens to reality and symbol, quality and identity, value and label, "content" and "skin". The
real gnostics do not pose questions about race, ethnicity, color of skin, nation, culture, political
group, ideology, and religion of someone. What they consider is whether someone has love,
compassion, kindness, generosity, respect, tolerance, willingness to help, service, humility,
justice, and all other praiseworthy characteristics. Only ignorant people emphasize more
manifestation than essence, more form than substance, more symbol than reality, more
identity than quality, more label than value, more "skin" than "content". The more ignorant
people are those who "deify", worship, and adore manifestation, form, symbol, identity, label,
"skin", while ignoring and neglecting essence, substance, reality, quality, value, "content".
Probably, many people of the world today unconsciously have become more ignorant. This
situation is an evil.
History has witnessed that identity in many places in the world has become the main cause of
conflict and dominant factor of violence. Why has this occurred? The answer is that many
groups want their identity as "the sole identity" for all human beings. Christopher Catherwood,
a historian, lecturer and writer based in Cambridge, England, is right when he says
Identity is at the heart of who we are. Yet who we are, and why we are who we are, is often
disputed. Identity nationalist, religious, cultural and political is at the heart of much
conflict in the world today.[25]
The evidence is the conflicts that have caused so much bloodshed in various parts of this
earth, such as in Palestine and Israel, the former Yugoslavian Croatia, Bosnia, Kosovo and
Macedonia, Afghanistan, Somalia, South Sudan and Iraq. The world has been divided and torn
apart by identity. And what is sadder is that the religious identity in the conflicts becomes the
dominant factor. When a religion becomes a source of hatred, the religion becomes an evil.
This absolutely contradicts the sublime message of the major religions, whose founders strove
to disseminate love, compassion, peace, brotherhood and justice in the world.
At this point we should discuss the meaning of "vision", the term stated in the subtitle of this
paper, "Unified Vision for a Unified World". "Vision" is an old French word derived
etymologically from the Latin visio, derived from visus, past participle of videre, "to see". It is
presumed that videre is derived from the Indo-European word weid/wide, variation
of wedi-/wde-, "to view", "to see", from which the word "wise" is derived. In many English
dictionaries, "vision" has several meanings. The appropriate or closest etymological meaning
of the word "vision" is "the ability to see", "the ability of seeing", "the act of seeing", "the
power of seeing with the eye". Other meanings of this word include "the power of perceiving
by the imagination or by clear thinking", "the ability to perceive something not actually visible,
as through mental acuteness or keen foresight", "force or power of imagination" or "the ability
to think about or plan the future with great imagination and intelligence". This word also
means "the mystical or religious experience of seeing some supernatural event, person, etc.",
"the experience of having the perception in a dream, trance, etc. or of having the supernatural
revelation", "a dream or similar experience, especially of a religious kind". The word can also
mean "something seen in the imagination, in a dream, in one's thoughts, etc.", "something
supposedly seen by other than normal sight", "something perceived in a dream, trance, etc. or

supernaturally revealed". It can also mean "an idea or a picture in the imagination", "a vivid
mental image produced by the imagination", or "the picture on a television or cinema/movie
theater". Finally, "vision" can also mean "something or someone, especially a woman, of
extraordinary beauty."
All the meanings of "vision" can be classified roughly into two groups: (1) "vision" as a subject
of consciousness, as indicated in the meanings of "ability of seeing", "power of seeing",
"mystical experience", etc., and (2) "vision" as an object of consciousness, as indicated in the
meanings of "something seen in the imagination, in a dream, in one's thoughts, etc.",
"something supposedly seen by other than normal sight", "something perceived in a dream,
trance, etc. or supernaturally revealed", or "an idea or a picture in the imagination", etc. The
relationship between these two meanings can be referred to as the relationship between
"vision as a subject" and "vision as an object". The color of the object of vision is the color of
vision. Vision is also meant as the picture it produces because this picture is also the "picture"
of vision itself. In other words, the color of the object of vision is its own color, that is, the
color of vision. "The color of water is the color of its container", Junayd of Baghdad says. The
color of a thing seen depends on the color of glasses through which the thing is seen.
The Arabic word for "vision" is ru'yah, one of the terms Ibn 'Arabi employs to refer to the
perception of God's self-disclosure. According to William C. Chittick, a distinguished scholar in
the Sufism of Ibn 'Arabi, just as with the other terms employed to refer to the perception of
God's self-disclosure, "vision" seems to have both a general meaning, according to which it is
more or less synonymous with "unveiling" (kashf), "tasting" (dhawq), and "witnessing"
(shuhd), and a specific meaning, according to which it signifies a special kind of unveiling in
certain contexts.[26] Vision may be higher than witnessing, and witnessing may be higher or
lower than unveiling, but these are modes of the perception of God as He is in His Selfdisclosure, not God as He is in Himself or His Essence.
"Vision" in the context of this discussion is spiritual vision, that is, the capability of the heart to
see the reality of every thing. The heart in this context is the heart of the gnostic as described
above. The relationship between "vision" and "world" is like the relationship between the cup
and the water it contains, or the relationship between spectacles and the object seen through
them. The color of the world is the color of the vision. The color, form, image, or picture of the
world is in accordance with the color, form, image, or picture of the vision. If the vision is red,
then the world seen through it is also red. If the vision is blue, the world seen through it is
also blue. If the vision is cracked, the world seen through it is also cracked. If the vision is
unified, then the world seen through it is also unified. The unified vision is the gnostics' or
mystics' vision. Their vision becomes unified by the unlimited vastness of their heart
encompassing not only all things but also the All-Embracing, the All-Encompassing, and by
love within their heart.
The unified world, or if you like you can equally well call it "the undivided world", is the world
seen with the glasses of the unified vision or if you like you can equally well call it "the
undivided vision". It is the world which, at the metaphysical level, is the totality of all things
other than the Real (al-haqq), that at one level is not other than the Real because the world is
Its self-manifestation. The world as an orderly and harmonious system, as mentioned above,
is a oneness within which all of its parts are interrelated, interdependent and inseparable. All

phenomena in the world are manifestations of the basic oneness or the ultimate reality,
called al-Haqq in Sufism, Brahman in Hinduism, Dharmakaya in Buddhism, and Tao in Taoism.
The world unified in the glasses of vision can also be understood as the world at the
sociological and ecological level, namely the harmonious world which is peaceful, orderly, full
of tolerance, mercy, brotherhood and justice. This ideal relationship occurs not only between
human beings, but also between human beings and other creatures, including animals, plants
and minerals. The main motivator of the creation of such a world is the real love emerging
from the purified heart, that is, the encompassing heart. Such a heart is capable of receiving
all forms of belief without being tied to any of them. Such a heart, as mentioned above,
emphasizes more essence than manifestation, more substance than form, more reality than
symbol, more quality than identity, more value than label, more "content" than "skin".
Unified vision produces a unified world. Without unified vision, there is no unified world.
Unified vision is for a unified world. Unified vision is absolutely needed to create a unified
world. All human beings have the potential in themselves to realize this goal. The question is
whether each human being has a strong desire to achieve this goal. The answer depends on
everyone.
Wa'Llh a'lam bi'l-sawb
Notes
1. This paper was originally presented at the Twenty-fourth Annual Symposium of the
Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, entitled "Unified Vision Unified World?", held at Worcester
College, Oxford, 2829 April 2007. I would like to express my sincere gratitude to Alison and
Peter Yiangou for their special facilities, suggestions and corrections to this paper.
2. Ibn 'Arabi, Fuss al-Hikam, edited by Ab al-'Al 'Aff, 2 parts (Beirut: Dr al-Kitb
al-'Arab, 1980), 1: 119.
3. Seyyed Hossein Nasr, "The Heart of the Faithful is the Throne of the All-Merciful", in James
S. Cutsinger, ed., Paths to the Heart: Sufism and the Christian East (Bloomington, Indiana:
2002), p. 32.
4. Ibn 'Arabi, al-Futht al-Makkiyyah, 8 vols. (Beirut: Dr al-Fikr, 1414/1994), 5: 24849.
5. Futht, 5: 47778.
6. Futht, 7: 12.
7. Fuss, 1: 122.
8. Ibn 'Arabi, The Tarjumn al-Ashwq: A Collection of Mystical Odes, translated by Reynold A.
Nicholson with a preface by Martin Lings (London: Theosophical Publishing House Ltd., 1978),
pp. 19 and 67 (with author's modifications).
9. Ibn 'Arabi, Kernel of the Kernel: Ismail Hakki Bursevi's Translation (Chisholme House,
Roberton, nr. Hawick, Scotland: Beshara Publications, 1997), p. 1.

10. Kernel, p. 1.
11. Fuss, 1: 113.
12. Fuss, 1: 121.
13. Futht, 5: 47879.
14. Futht, 3: 435.
15. Ibn 'Arabi, Tuhfat al-Safrah, edited by Muhammad alih al-Mahi (Beirut: Dar al-Kitab alLubnani, n.d.), p. 37.
16. Kabir Helminski, The Knowing Heart: A Sufi Path of Transformation (Boston and London:
Shambala, 1999), p. 75.
17. Helminski, The Knowing Heart, p. 75.
18. Fuss, 1: 203.
19. Paul J. Glenn, Cosmology: A Class Manual in the Philosophy of Bodily Being (St. Louis,
Missouri and London: B. Herder Book Co., 1957), p. 1.
20. Peter A. Angeles, Dictionary of Philosophy (New York: Barnes & Noble Books, A Division of
Harper & Row Publishers, 1981), p. 305.
21. Ibn 'Arabi, Dhakh'ir al-A'lq, edited and commentary by Muhammad 'Abd al-Rahman alKurdi (Cairo: Matba'at al-Sa'adah, 1968), pp. 5051;Tarjumn, p. 69.
22. Pandit Usharbudh Arya, God (Honesdale, Pennsylvania: The Himalayan International
Institute of Yoga Science and Philosophy, 1979), p. 3.
23. Helminski, The Knowing Heart, p. 77.
24. Helminski, The Knowing Heart, p. 81.
25. Christopher Catherwood, Why the Nations Rage?: Killing in the Name of God (Lanham:
Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2002), p. 2.
26. William C. Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge: Ibn al-'Arab's Metaphysics of
Imagination (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1989), p. 228.

The Circle of Inclusion

Each person who has stood in an open space, or sailed on the sea, or stood on a high
mountain has experienced the circularity of the horizons, seen the direction of the sun rising in
the east, reaching its zenith and then setting in the west, or felt the overarching night-sky
studded with stars, and found themselves at the centre looking from a face they cannot see.
This experience applies equally to everybody who stands in such a space and it is a wonderful
example of how each person is right at the centre of what is happening. Similarly each of us
has a direct connection to what is real, like the path of the sun that reaches us from across the
waters. If the attention is then turned inwards towards the invisible centre of one's being the
heart and what is happening there is observed, it is possible to establish a connection with
the source of one's being, which is equally the ever-present dimensionless point of return.
In his Theophany on Perfection Ibn 'Arab writes:
Listen, O my beloved!
I am the essence ('ayn) that is sought in creation,
The centre of the circle and its circumference,
Its complexity and simplicity.
I am the order revealed between heaven and earth[2]
In Cordoba, 814 years ago in 1190, Ibn 'Arab had a vision where he met all the prophets from
Adam to Muhammad. It was only the prophet Hd, whose wisdom in the Fuss al-Hikam, is
that of uniqueness (ahadiyya), who spoke to him on that occasion. Ibn Arab tells us,
Know that when the Real revealed to me and made me witness the essential realities of all His
messengers and prophets, who are human beings, from Adam to Muhammad (may God bless
them all and give them peace) in a vision in which I was made present in Cordoba in the year
[AH] 586, the only one who spoke to me from that group was Hd (SA) who told me the
reason for their gathering.[3] I saw him as a large man, a handsome figure, pleasant and
subtle in conversation, knowledgeable about things and having insight into them. The proof I
had of this insight were his words, There is no moving creature whom He [God] does not take
hold of by the forelock. Indeed, my Lord is on the straight path.[4] And what greater good
news (bishra) to creation is there than this?[5]
Ibn 'Arab's universality is immediately evident in the fact that all the prophets from Adam to
Muhammad appeared to him, here in Cordoba. The reason why it was that Hd spoke, the
Ottoman commentator on the Fuss al-Hikam informs us, was because the ways and tastes
of Hd were most suitable in the ways of tawhd, Unity in plurality;[6] and the great good
news referred to is that Truth, God, is the Ipseity[7] of all things.[8]God takes charge of all
creatures, and whatever path they are moving along is in fact the straight path of their Lord.
Ultimately, God is the only one who moves in anything that moves; since He is the only one in
existence, He is the only actor and all actions are His. In this sense, nobody has gone astray,

since everything is included in the boundless Mercy of God[9] which overrides the divine
anger.
In the poem at the beginning of the chapter on Hd in the Fuss al-Hikam Ibn 'Arab writes:
The Straight Path belongs to God (Allh).
It is manifest in all, not hidden.
He is present in the small and the great,
In those who are ignorant of how things are and those who know.
Because of this His mercy encompasses everything,
No matter how base or magnificent.[10]
These lines emphasize the universality of the straight path of God upon which all things walk
and which leads them all back to God.[11] In this chapter, Ibn 'Arab emphasizes God's
closeness to us, closer than life itself, closer than the jugular vein.[12] No particular kind of
person is specified for this closeness, the knowing or ignorant, the blessed or damned, except
that the very blessing is in being aware of this closeness which is sensed, and the sadness of
distance is in being unaware of it.[13] Everything is included in the divine grace and favour,
but it is a question of whether we choose to be aware of this or not.
The path upon which all things walk is called straight even if it deviates for, as Ibn 'Arab
says in the Futht al-Makkiyya,
curvature is straight in reality, like the curvature of a bow since the straightness which is
desired from it is curvature and all movement and rest in existence is divine because it is in
the hand of the Real.[14]
Everything emerges from God and everything is returned to Him but things do not go back by
the path on which they emerged; rather, they return in a circular motion, for Ibn 'Arab
maintains that Every affair and every existent thing is a circle that returns to that through
which it had its beginning.[15]
If, therefore, every existent is on the straight path in any case, what was the point of sending
prophets and messengers to call people to God? The Ottoman commentator on the Fuss who
posits this question, then answers it by adding,
This one cannot say, because this invitation is the invitation from the Name Misleader (mudill)
to the Name Guide (hd) to Truth, and the invitation from the Name Compeller (jabbr) to the
Name Just ('adl).[16]
Our happiness lies in the path of guidance to blessing and grace, not in the path which leads
to misery, constriction and anger. Yet just as all actions belong to God, so do all names and
qualities. To recognize the Guide we need to see how guidance is manifested in us and ask
who it is that is guided? The same is true of the Name Just, and all other names and qualities.
This involves knowledge of the self in discovering who we are.[17] In one sense we are all
under the divine impulsion. Yet God is not unjust to his servants by compelling them to behave
in a certain way He simply allows them to be what they are. Ibn 'Arab writes, 'God does not

treat his servants unjustly',[18] for He only knows what the objects of knowledge give to Him,
since knowledge follows the object of knowledge.[19]
There was an apparent conflict for the prophets between calling the people to God according
to the prescriptive command and the fact that everyone is in any case on the straight path of
God. Ibn 'Arab writes,
The Messenger of God said, Hd and its sisters have made my hair go white, that is (the
Quranic sura of) Hd and all the (Quranic) verses which mention going straight.[20]
However, God's eternal knowledge of us does not determine what we will do because
knowledge is dependent on the known and His knowledge of us is in accordance with what we
show Him of ourselves, since knower, knowledge and the known are ultimately one.
The invitation is therefore to knowledge and to removing the constriction which our limited
beliefs impose on us and on Truth. It is an invitation to discriminate between a lesser vision of
reality and a greater one, to abandon a partial view for a more comprehensive and complete
one, to progress through our own personal Lord to the Lord of Lords, the all-inclusive God who
encompasses all names and qualities and where all opposites are united.
The whole of humanity is being invited to this universal perspective. If, from among the infinite
possibilities, we have selected a limited belief structure and decided to serve that, then we are
in a prison of our own making and have excluded ourselves from the boundless generosity of
existence. Ibn 'Arab writes,
The people of God say There are as many ways to God as the breaths of the creatures and
every breath emanates from the heart according to the belief the heart has of God.[21]
However a person believes God to be, that is how God will appear to him.[22] By limiting God
in a particular way, the holder of a particular belief limits himself. In the chapter on the
prophet Hd, in the Fuss al-Hikam, Ibn 'Arab writes,
Take care not to be tied by any particular belief ('aqd) while denying all others, for much good
would escape you in fact, knowledge of how things are would evade you. So be in yourself
the substance of all forms of belief, for God the High is too vast and great to be confined to
one belief rather than another. He [God] has said, Wherever you turn, there is the face of
God,[23] without mentioning any particular orientation.[24]
The complete Quranic verse referred to is as follows, To God belong the east and the west.
Wherever you turn, there is the face of God. God is all-encompassing, allknowing.[25] Whether east and west are understood as different parts of the globe,
representing different cultural values, or whether they are understood as the place of the
rising sun and the place of the setting sun and therefore as the visible and invisible worlds,
God is in every direction that is turned to in both the exterior world and the interior. While
acknowledging that God is the one who is worshipped in everything that is
worshipped[26] and that He cannot be limited to any particular manifestation, we are
exhorted to know that it is the face of God which is in every direction and orientation, that is

to say, His Essence. This is the central point which we need to be constantly aware of in our
heart, the sacred aspect to which we adhere and before which we bow in prayer.[27]
Ibn 'Arab's emphasis on the inclusion of all beliefs is of particular relevance to us today. Since
it is God who appears in every form, without being limited to any particular form, He can be
seen in all ways of worship and all forms of belief. However, the ability to accept all beliefs
without being tied to any one in particular requires giving up all of one's preconceived notions
about reality. When Ibn 'Arab exhorts us to be the substance of all beliefs, this is not so that
we just take on another belief which is more inclusive. It is a matter of vision, of seeing that
He, God, is the Essence of everything including ourselves, and that He is the One who appears
in everything and takes on the forms of all beliefs, and can be recognized there.
On the matter of inner vision, Ibn 'Arab follows the Prophet Muhammad, since he has
inherited Muhammad's all-inclusiveness and brings out the interior meaning of Muhammad's
prophecy. Muhammad called to God according to inner vision by which Reality is witnessed not
merely conjectured, when he said,
This is my Way. I invite to God according to clear insight (basra), I and whoever follows me,
and praise and glory to God, I am not of those who associate (anything else with God).[28]
It is an appeal to those with a receptive heart, because truth which is directly perceived by
inner vision constitutes direct knowledge which cannot be grasped by thought.
Just as the divine mercy encompasses everything, so does the divine knowledge.[29] For Ibn
'Arab, the seat of this kind of direct knowledge is the heart, which alone is able to perceive
that the Divine Self is the identity both of everything that is revealed and of everyone who
receives the revelation. In the chapter on Shu'ayb in the Fuss al-Hikam, Ibn 'Arab writes,
In that there is a reminder for the one who has a heart,[30] due to (the heart's) ability to
vary according to different kinds of images and qualities. He (God) does not say for the one
who has an intellect because the intellect conditions and fixes the order to one particular
qualification and the Reality refuses such limitation. It is not a reminder to those of the
intellect who are people of formal beliefs, who accuse each other of unbelief and condemn one
another.[31]
Here, Ibn 'Arab is referring to those who interpret the news given of Reality according to their
own limited understanding rather than perceiving it directly and accepting it in their heart.
Since God appears differently at each moment, the human being needs to be able to adapt
and respond appropriately, according to wisdom. This only comes about by serving as a mirror
to the Real. Such service cannot be conditioned by any personal goal, not even the pursuit of
happiness, even though our true happiness may be consequent to such service.
Ibn 'Arab calls those who mirror the Real most perfectly the Muhammadians. They have
nothing of their own and are not defined by any particular divine Name or attribute. They bring
together all the different standpoints or stations on the spiritual path and go beyond them to
no station.[32]

Ibn 'Arab writes,

The divine properties differ all the time and (the Muhammadian) varies with their variation, for
God is Every day busy with some affair and so is the Muhammadian. God said, In this there
is a reminder for the one who has a heart and He did not say intellect because that would
limit him. The heart (qalb which literally means turning or changing) is only called that due
to its variation in states and affairs continually with each breath.[33]
The person whose heart is pure does not oblige Reality to conform to his own image of it, but
his heart is able to receive and conform to Reality as it truly appears at that moment. Ibn
'Arab writes,
The one who has a heart knows the variation of the Real in images, by virtue of (the heart's)
variability in modes. For he knows the (Real) Self from himself and his heart is no other than
the Itselfness (huwiyya) of the Real. There is nothing existent in the world which is other than
the Identity (huwiyya) of the Real indeed it is the Identity itself.[34]
This is the greatest perplexity in the mystery of God, seeing that He possesses all forms yet is
confined to none. Ibn 'Arab writes,
The affair is a circle. It has no limit which can be seen and therefore stopped at. This is why
the Muhammadians, who have an insight like this, are told You have no station, since the
affair is circular, so return![35]
Because this changeability pervades the whole world, every person undergoes variation in
their state with every breath. What distinguishes the knower of God is their knowledge of this
variation.[36]
As we have seen, everyone is already, by their very existence, complete, encompassed by
divine mercy and therefore on the straight path of their Lord, yet at the same time called to a
perfection which defies limitation. Ibn 'Arab writes,
God gives everything its creation, thereby completing it, then He guides to the acquisition
of perfection. So whoever is rightly guided becomes perfect but whoever has stopped with his
completion has been deprived.[37]
This call to perfection is a call to wholeness and peace where all qualities are integrated in
total equilibrium.
All human beings are born with an unlimited potential for perfection where the entire spiritual
and cosmic realities may be clearly reflected in them so that they become the place of
manifestation for the totality of divine attributes. This possibility of further perfection for the
sake of beauty heightens the value and meaning of human life. In closely adhering to God,
there is guidance in the right way.[38] God responds to request and what more beautiful
request is there than that He may bring about for us the aptitude for perfection.
Once it is known that we have no existence of our own, that only the Real exists, the intended
revelation of beauty can take place. Ibn 'Arab writes,

God is beautiful and loves beauty. Certainly, God dresses the interior of (the) servant with
beauty insofar as He only reveals Himself to him out of love when He manifests in him the
special beauty which is bound to him and which can only appear in this particular place. Every
place (of manifestation) has a beauty which is special to it which belongs to nothing else. God
does not look at the world until after He has made it beautiful and arranged it harmoniously so
that it receives what He brings to it in His revelation according to the beauty of its aptitude. He
dresses that revelation with beauty upon beauty so it is always in a new beauty in every
revelation, just as it is always in a new creation in itself. (The revelation) undergoes perpetual
transformation in the interior and exterior for the person from whom God has removed the
covering of his blindness from his inner vision (basra).[39]
For most people intense glimpses of beauty are rare, but we have numerous examples of the
ability of the human spirit to transcend the most abominable suffering and hardship to keep
faith with the witnessed reality of this vision. It is a vision based on an inner certainty of the
essential oneness and generosity of being.

To summarize, the Muhammadian vision provided by Ibn 'Arab gives an overview which is not
tied to any particular belief, or property, or attribute. Essentially the self is unbounded. If we
impose our own limitations and constraints on it, we are prevented from fully receiving each
new revelation. We need to empty ourselves of our own limitation so we are ready to respond
in accordance with the needs of the moment, freed from the burden of fixed beliefs. For, as
Ibn 'Arab says, The Essence is unknown and not bound by any fixed qualification.[40]
The importance of Ibn 'Arab in our time is what is timeless in his writings. For the current
moment, now, is the gateway to what lies beyond temporal and spatial considerations. It
includes that which is timeless and universal as well as all the particular ramifications which
are configured according to time and place. In our present age, spiritual knowledge is
becoming more accessible as there is a greater urgency to recognize the true value and
potential of human beings. However many human beings are born, humanity is never divided
but remains a single reality, expressing itself in numberless different ways, each as an
individuation of the One Real Self. No one is excluded from the possibility of coming to know
themselves and therefore to know God the Real.
Ibn 'Arab's writings illuminate the various aspects of reconciling the inner reality and the outer
reality, God and creation, the invisible and visible worlds. He constantly refers back to the
source of the revealed words of the Quran rather than relying on subsequent interpretations of
Islam. In this way he brings out the true meaning of the religion, emphasizing the universality
of the Muhammadian Way which shows the uniqueness of the single reality of Being and its
infinite possibilities expressed in endlessly changing forms and images. The all-inclusive,
absolute God appears in all things yet remains unconfined by the limitations of anything. Ibn
'Arab frequently quotes the Quranic verse, We shall show them Our signs on the horizons and
in themselves until it is clear to them that it is the Real.[41]
Throughout his work, Ibn 'Arab emphasizes the need to be aware of those aspects of reality
which transcend particular circumstances, as well as paying attention to how that reality
manifests in the world, for he maintains that the movement of the world from non-existence

into existence is a movement of love.[42] The world is itself nothing other than the One and
Only Reality manifesting itself in infinitely varied forms and states, which are already present
within it in potential. From this point of view, the signs manifested in the world should not be
dismissed or ignored, especially for those who are embarked on a spiritual journey whose aim
is union, integration and completeness.
What is it, then, that speaks in Ibn 'Arab's words with a voice that goes beyond the confines
of his particular context, evoking a response that can be universally recognized? Whilst
respecting the diversity of viewpoints, the purpose of our coming together for this conference
is not to dwell on the determining factors which set people apart, but to focus on their
underlying unity; not to dwell on what makes Ibn 'Arab's teachings distant from us and
inaccessible, but to focus on what makes them close to us in opening a door to an all-inclusive
spiritual perspective. Such a universal perspective necessarily includes the totality of
perspectives, not by focusing on the detail of each, but by concentrating on the point from
which all perspectives arise and consequently encompasses them all. This is the still point at
the centre of the circle, the point about which the universes turn.
Notes
1. This paper was originally presented at the conference entitled Between East and West, the
spiritual journey: the significance and implications of Ibn 'Arab's teaching in today's world,
held in Cordoba at the Biblioteca Viva Al-Andalus, Roger Garaudy Foundation, 2426
September 2004.
2. Ibn 'Arab, al-Tajalliyt al-ilhiyya, ed. O. Yahya (Tehran, 1988), Theophany 81, p. 460.
3. In his Rh al-quds, Ibn 'Arab gives one reason for the assembly: Hd informed him that all
the messengers and prophets had come to visit Abu Muhammad Makhlf al-Qab'il in his
sickness before he died. See Ibn 'Arab, Sufis of Andalusia, trans. R.W.J. Austin (London,
1971), p. 124. However, another reason for the assembly is given by Jand, a disciple of Ibn
'Arab's spiritual heir, Sadr al-Dn Qnaw: it was to congratulate Ibn 'Arab on becoming the
Seal of Saints, and heir to the Seal of the Prophets. On the Great Vision at Cordoba and the
Seal of Muhammadian Sainthood, see C. Addas, Quest for the Red Sulphur (Cambridge,
1993), pp. 7481; S. Hirtenstein, The Unlimited Mercifier (Oxford, 1999), pp. 856; C.
Gilis, Le livre des chatons des sagesses (Beirut, 1997), vol. I, pp. 2823.
4. Q. 11: 56.
5. Ibn 'Arab, Fuss al-Hikam, ed. A. 'Aff (Beirut, 1946), p. 110. See also Ibn al-'Arab, The
Bezels of Wisdom, trans. R.W.J. Austin (New York, 1980), pp. 1334.
6. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fuss al-Hikam by Muhyiddin Ibn
'Arab, rendered into English by B. Rauf, 4 vols. (Oxford, 198691), p. 570. This Ottoman
commentary on the Fuss al-Hikam is usually attributed to Abdullah Bosnevi. To avoid
confusion, I refer to the Ottoman commentator.
7. Identity, itselfness huwiyya.8. Ibid., p. 564.9. Cf. Q. 7: 156, frequently quoted by Ibn
'Arab.

10. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 106. See Bezels, pp. 12930.

11. See al-Futht al-makkiyya (Cairo, 1911; reprinted Beirut, n.d.), vol. III, p. 410,
beginning line 24 (III.410.24). See also W. Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge (Albany, NY,
1989), pp. 3013.
12. Cf. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 108; see Bezels, p. 132.
13. See Thursday Morning Prayer: In Your hand is the compulsive power holding sway over
hearts and forelocks. 'To You the whole affair is returned', irrespective of obedience or
disobedience. Ibn 'Arab, Wird (London, 1979), p. 39. See also, The Seven Days of the Heart,
trans. P. Beneito and S. Hirtenstein (Oxford, 2000), p. 104.14. Fut. II.563.23.
15. Fut. I.255.18. See also W. Chittick, The Self-Disclosure of God (Albany, NY, 1998), p. 224.
16. Bursevi Fuss, p. 564. See also Sufi Path, pp. 297, 300.
17. See Fuss, 'Aff, p. 109; Bezels, p. 132.18. Q.3: 182.19. Fut. IV.182.12.
20. Fut. IV.182.11. Hd is the sura within which Go straight as you have been commanded
(Q. 11: 112) is revealed. See also Sufi Path, p. 300 and the end of the chapter on
Jacob, Fuss, 'Aff, pp. 989; Bezels, pp. 11718. In the epilogue to his Mashhid al-asrr,
Ibn 'Arab affirms that The straight path is finer than a hair and sharper than a sword; no one
can adhere to it except the people under God's special care. See Ibn 'Arab,Contemplation of
the Holy Mysteries, trans. C. Twinch and P. Beneito (Oxford, 2001), p. 120.21. Fut. III.411.22.
22. Whoever believes that (God) is like such and such, He appears to him in the form of his
belief. Fut. III.411.26. Cf. also Fuss, 'Aff, p. 124; Bezels, p. 152; Sufi Path pp. 3023.
23. Q. 2: 115.24. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 113.25. Q. 2: 115.26. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 72. See Bezels, p. 78.
27. See Fuss, 'Aff, p. 114; Bezels, p. 138.28. Q. 12: 108.
29. Cf.Q. 40: 7 often quoted by Ibn 'Arab. See, for example, Self-Disclosure, p. 329.
30. Q. 50: 37.31. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 122. See Bezels, p. 150; Bursevi Fuss, p. 607.
32. Cf. Fut. III.506.30. See Sufi Path, pp. 37581.33. Fut. IV.76.35.34. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 122.
See Bezels, p. 151.35. Fut. IV.14.13. See also Self-Disclosure, p. 226.36. Cf. Fut. IV.77.3.
37. Fut. III. 405.4. Cf. Q. 20: 50 and Sufi Path, p. 297.
38. Cf. Q. 3: 101; Saturday Morning Prayer, Wird, p. 52; Seven Days, p. 135.
39. Fut. IV.146.5. With reference to the ruling (hukm) which makes the hair of a youth go
white, in this context see also Self-Disclosure, p. 80.40. Fut. IV.40.1.
41. Q. 41: 53.42. Fuss, 'Aff, p. 203. See also the Wisdom of Moses in Bezels, p. 257.

The Brotherhood of Milk

Perspectives of Knowledge in the Adamic Clay
By the Fig,
By the Olive,
By the Mount of Sinai,
By this Land secure!
We have indeed created Man in the best of modes...[1]
In his Book of Dream-visions (K. al-Mubashshirt), Ibn 'Arab records some seventeen dreams
which he had during his life, among many others. These, he says, may be of particular benefit
to others, since they concern the Prophet or one of his companions. One of them depicts a
dramatic event beyond the bounds of this world:[2]
I saw in a dream as if the Resurrection had begun, and people were surging in agitation like
the ocean. Then I heard the Quran being recited in 'Illiyn,[3] and I exclaimed: "Who are these
people who are reciting the Quran at a time like this, without fear overcoming them?" I was
told: "They are the bearers of the Quran".[4] "Then I am one of them!", I averred. A ladder
was brought for me and I climbed up into a chamber in 'Illiyn, in which old and young were
reciting the Quran before the messenger of God, Abraham the Intimate Friend (khall), peace
be upon him. I sat in front of him, and began reciting the Quran in complete security and
confidence, feeling no fear, alarm or sense of reckoning (hisb). Indeed I do not understand
what is the distress that so troubles people with regard to the Gathering [on the Day of
Judgment]. The Prophet, may the blessing and peace of God be upon him, said: "The people
of the Quran are the people of God and His special people." And God says "they shall be in
high chambers in security and confidence."[5]
It is typical of Ibn 'Arab that what he writes down should be so closely tied to the Quran, here
a kind of dream-meditation on the meanings hidden within a particular verse. Like all dreams
of this kind, it has many aspects. First of all, there is the theme of complete security and
confidence in God, which is evidenced (in the Quranic verse mentioned) by those who have
faith in their heart and act righteously ("they shall be in high chambers in security and
confidence"). In the dream it is seen within the eternal context of its prophetic apogee,
Abraham the Khall, who had such trust and confidence that he was prepared to obey the
Divine Command even in the ultimate act of self-sacrifice, the killing of his own son, a
confidence that causes him to be honoured with the name muslim, surrendered to God.
The second aspect of the dream we may note here is the presence of Abraham as a kind of
instructor or prayer-leader at this reading of the axial text of Islam within the highest realms
of Paradise. It demonstrates one of the fundamental tenets of Muhammad's teaching, that he
was restoring the true religion of Abraham, as well as the principle that all previous prophets
have brought the same universal message, which is summarised and given its fullest
expression in Islam. Of all the three Western religions, it is Islam that is the most insistently
monotheistic, a conception traditionally linked with Abraham. Jews, Christians and Muslims all
tend to think of Abraham and the doctrine of God's Unity in the same breath, and describe
their religion as Abrahamic. For Jews, Abraham was given an irrevocable compact by God, a
covenant whose sign is inscribed into the flesh of his children in the rite of circumcision. He is

"the father of all who believe", as St Paul described him. For Muslims, he is the father through
whom all are named as muslims. And yet it is precisely this common paternity in faith which
gives rise to the most bitter of rivalries between the religions. As a recent article
in Timemagazine put it, the history of the Abrahamic faiths "constitutes a kind of multi-faith
scandal, a case study for monotheism's darker side, the desire of people to define themselves
by excluding or demonising the others."[6] At the same time, as is demonstrated by the
appearance of a new book entitled Abraham: a journey to the heart of three faiths,[7] the
Patriarch is increasingly seen as the great source of reconciliation and a propounder of "ideals
that lend life a profound significance", as Anwar Sadat put it. Tri-faith programmes are now on
the agenda of many academic institutions in the USA and Europe.
Here it is not my task to go into the details of the religious viewpoints which each side holds,
but merely to stress that the arguments that run so deep and affect so much of the rhetoric of
our own time are founded on each side's exclusive claim to the paternity of Abraham and to
the rightness of their cause. Jews have claimed the Divine Covenant only flows through Isaac
and his line, giving them total rights to the land of Israel. Christians have seen the promise to
Abraham and his descendants as beyond any tribal inheritance and pointing to the coming of
Jesus; they even made circumcision a sign of ignorance rather than an indication of grace. And
Muslims have taken Abraham's true followers to be the true believers, i.e. themselves, and
even disenfranchised Jews by saying that the sacrifice involved Ishmael rather than Isaac. So
often down the ages has the prophet of tolerance been enlisted on the side of intolerance and
ignorance. Now it is in the very nature of religions to be mutually exclusive. What the growing
movement to adopt the prophetic Patriarch as the champion of inter-faith dialogue sometimes
tends to ignore is that faith is not a question of religion: faith is not the religious belief that we
are bound to and whose cause we espouse, in the process rejecting whatever does not agree
with our position it is a matter of the heart, a light in the heart, and for that light to shine
there must be an emptying, a freedom from preconception and assumption, in order to face
the Unlimited God in whom all apparent oppositions are drowned.

The dn Ibrhm
The debate over religious belief and true faith was apparent on the eve of Islam, amongst
those in Mecca who claimed to be following the religion of Abraham (dn Ibrhm). Modern
scholars usually treat Muslim reports of pre-Islamic monotheists with some degree of
scepticism, claiming they are an apologetic projection, and some suggest that the term hanf,
which is applied in the Quran to the religion of Abraham, was never actually used before in this
monotheistic sense. However, as many of these people who are named as monotheists
(hunaf', plural of hanf), were opposed to the Prophet's message, it can be argued that this
sceptical approach is not borne out by the facts, as "no Muslim could have had any interest in
characterising these opponents of the prophet as hunaf'."[8] A close study of these people
shows that like the Prophet himself, these adherents of the religion of Abraham had close
contacts with Mecca and Quraysh, and were devoted to the sanctity of the Ka'ba. They were
convinced that Mecca was an Abrahamic sanctuary and that the Ka'ba was indeed the House of
Abraham. Some later decided to abandon the idolatry of Quraysh and embraced Islam. Others
differed from the Prophet in their refusal to give up their close blood-ties to the tribe of
Quraysh, who viewed themselves as the noblest descendants of Ishmael and custodians of the
House of God.

One of the most interesting cases is Zayd b. 'Amr, an older contemporary of Muhammad,
whose search for the true religion led him to reject conversion to Judaism or Christianity and
to embrace devotion to God in the way of Abraham. He is reported to have leant his back
against the Ka'ba and said: "O Quraysh, by Him in whose Hand is the soul of Zayd, not one of
you follows the religion of Abraham but I." Other reports include a meeting with the young
Muhammad, prior to the latter's first revelation, in which Zayd refuses a bag of meat which
Muhammad had sacrificed to the idols, saying that he would not eat anything that had been
offered to idols and that he was a follower of the religion of Abraham in other words, Zayd is
portrayed as a hanf who introduced Muhammad to the fundamental precepts of monotheism
in the way of Abraham.[9]
However, the revelations to Muhammad portrayed the Abrahamic tradition in a new light, and
brought about a new dispensation, within which submission and service were given
prominence. The coming of the Prophet thus forced the people of his time into re-evaluating
what constituted religious belief and faith in the light of this revelation.

The two travellers

It is this distinction between self-identifying religious doctrine and self-surrendering true faith
which is so graphically expressed in one of Ibn 'Arab's accounts of his meeting with Abraham
in the seventh heaven during his ascension (mi'rj). In Chapter 167 of the Futht alMakkiyya dedicated to the spiritual knowledge of the alchemy of true happiness,[10] Ibn 'Arab
describes the ascension in terms which are at once wryly amusing and deadly serious. We are
presented with two kinds of traveller, both of whom are searching for knowledge of their
Creator: the one is a follower of a prophet or messenger, whose response to revelation is one
of acceptance and surrender and who copies what he is told to do by the prophet this
presupposes that the prophet is seen as one who truly knows and can act as infallible guide;
[11] the other is a speculative thinker, who takes reason as his yardstick and arbiter and
wants "to discover the path to knowledge of God by [him]self". While the speculative thinker
thinks he needs to seek knowledge, using all the powers at his disposal, the follower strives
only to make himself nothing before the Unity of Truth, like an empty vessel, empty of selfish
individuality, ready to receive whatever is deposited in him, without laying claim to owning it.
Not only are their methods different, says Ibn 'Arab, but the fruits of their investigations are
also different: "Everything that the speculative thinker acquires, the follower also acquires, but
not everything that the follower obtains is obtained by the speculative thinker." This is due to
that special and intimate relationship to God which each of the creatures possesses, and which
the follower is cognisant of, the private face (al-wajh al-khss). It is through this private face
that he receives knowledge which the speculative thinker cannot understand.[12]
As they progress together on their journey, "the Muhammadian (follower) carried upon the
litter of Divine Solicitude (rafraf al-'inya) and the speculative thinker riding upon the steed of
reflective thinking (burq al-fikr)", in each heaven the follower is treated with great honour by
the prophet of that heaven and is initiated into secrets and mysteries, while the poor
speculative thinker is left to his own devices and can only converse with the planet. In many
cases even the planet abandons him, saying it is in the service of the prophet and has to
attend to his guest. No wonder the speculative thinker gets more and more depressed as the
journey goes on.

By the time they reach the seventh heaven, where Abraham resides, the situation has become
critical: the speculative thinker is installed "in a dark, deserted and desolate house", that
grimly Saturnine mirror which is none other than the house of his own soul (nafs). That it
appears dark and empty shows the ultimate fruitlessness of unaided reason, echoed in the
Biblical cry of "vanity of vanities; all is vanity".[13] Here at the end of it all, there is no joy, no
life.
In contrast, the follower is warmly welcomed by Abraham, who is resting his back against the
Visited House (al-bayt al-ma'mr). Just as the earthly Ka'ba is surrounded by pilgrims in
prayer, so this heavenly prototype is frequented by angelic presences, constantly coming and
going. The Abrahamic injunction to the follower is:
Make your heart like this Visited House, by your being present with God in every state. Know
that of all that you see, nothing contains the Real God except the heart of the believer,
[14] and that is you!
Being present with God in every state means having a totally open heart, open to and
cognisant of the constant Self-Revelation of the One in myriad forms.
The implications of this viewpoint are profound in Ibn 'Arab's teaching: everything in the
universe being imprinted within the essence of our soul, we can only ever really know what we
have witnessed of ourselves (nafs) in the mirror of our essence (dht). Just as God creates His
own Self in the mirror of His manifestation, so we create our own selves in the mirror of His
Being. And therein lies the danger of making Reality conform to our own belief. Only by selfpurification and purity of heart can the mirror of our soul become clear enough to reflect what
the world really is without distortion.

Brotherhood
At this point in the story, Ibn 'Arab says, the speculative thinker realising that he is missing
out and that his self-reality is a place of restriction precisely because his viewpoint is narrow
desires to get closer to Abraham. Here an intriguing conversation takes place:
Abraham then asks the follower: "Who is this stranger with you?", and the follower replies:
"He is my brother."
"Your milk-brother or your blood-brother?" Abraham asks.
"My water-brother," the follower replies.
"You are right," Abraham says, "that is why I do not recognise him. Do not keep company with
anyone except your milk-brother, just I am your milk-father. The Presence of Supreme Bliss
(al-hadrat al-sa'dya) only admits milk-brothers, milk-fathers and milk-mothers, for they are
suitable in the sight of God. Do you not see that knowledge manifests as milk in the Presence
of Imagination, and this is because of the suckling relationship?"[15]
After this the follower is invited into the Visited House, while the poor speculative thinker is
left to go back to the beginning on his own and is cut off from the fatherhood of Abraham. Ibn
'Arab portrays this thinker as wanting to become a muslim at this point on the spiritual

journey, but he is barred from joining Islam and told to return to the world, to follow "the way
of the one who constantly turns to God, being converted by the messengers who bring news
from God only then can you receive in the way that your companion has received." It is
interesting to contrast this with the case of the Pharaoh who believed in the God of Moses and
Aaron in this world, just before the point of death.
In summary, we see that Ibn 'Arab delineates three kinds of brotherhood (which, let me
hasten to add, includes both human genders):
a) blood-brothers (akh min al-nasab), the family of consanguinity, our fleshly inheritance with
all its ties of close kinship; it is an exclusive brotherhood, restricted to family at the bodily
level;
b) water-brothers (akh min al-m'), which may refer here to the wider community of
humankind, who share the water of life in this world, just as all things, including Adam and his
children, are born of water;[16] apparently unlimited, this form of fraternit is also divided,
since the Children of Adam are either happy/blessed or unhappy/damned. This second identity
takes place at the level of the soul; and
c) milk-brothers (akh min al-rad'a), suckled in infancy from the same source, so close in
kinship that marriage between milk-relatives is expressly forbidden in the Quran,[17] lovingly
nourished by the image of knowledge; there is no limit imposed here, except in terms of the
quantity of milk drunk. At the level of the spirit, the most appropriate prayer becomes the one
enjoined by Muhammad: "Lord, increase me in knowledge".
For Ibn 'Arab, Abraham is our milk-father, "the clear light (al-nr al-mubn)... the second
father who named us muslims."[18] His fatherhood is discriminative (unlike the fatherhood of
Adam who includes all human beings), making plain the distinction between truth and
falsehood. It does not reside simply in being the model of fidelity for all who believe, but
rather in the knowledge bestowed through faith, a knowledge by virtue of which he is known
as khall, since that which knows and that which is known interpenetrate each other.[19] It is
this knowledge which makes us suitable or serviceable (nfi') in the sight of God.[20]
In our present world where conflicts arise on the basis of ethnicity, where the politics of
identity makes people increasingly strident in their self-definition in terms of consanguinity,
the idea of a milk-brotherhood, a brotherhood based on knowledge of the Unity of Being,
becomes highly topical. This "Milky Way" excludes no-one: it is open to all. It is self-selecting,
in the sense that you can opt in or out. But knowledge here should not be restricted to a
simple attestation of God's Unity and Ineffability. This is not mere intellectual knowledge but a
realisation of the heart, a gnosis (ma'rifa) passed on through suckling at the breast of Love.
In the chapter dedicated to the Word of Abraham in his Fuss al-hikam,[21] Ibn 'Arab
describes three degrees of knowledge of God:
a) firstly, realising that it is our indigence and dependence that demonstrate His Lordship and
Divinity without our self-subjection, He is not known as the Self-Exalted Transcendent God;

b) secondly, seeing through illumination (kashf) that He is Immanent in all the realities of the
world, appearing in multiple forms without Himself becoming multiple; and
c) finally, there opens another degree of kashf in which "He manifests to you our forms in Him,
so that some of us are manifest to others in God, some of us recognise others, and some of us
are distinguished from others. There are those of us who know that this knowledge came to us
in God from us, and there are those of us who are ignorant of the presence in which this
knowledge comes through us."[22]
This is the only exclusivity that Ibn 'Arab finds in the tolerant religion of Abraham, a hierarchy
of knowledge and as he immediately requests, "I seek refuge in God from being one of the
ignorant".
In conclusion, we may remember that the two travellers are simply a device which Ibn 'Arab is
using to clarify his teaching: they are two aspects of each and every one of us. If we hold fast
to the free-thinking spirit of intellectual speculation, our own way of doing things, he says,
debars us from our true happiness; whereas if we allow our heart to be laid bare before the
Unlimited Truth and to be inclined to the religion of Love,[23] we may join that creed of
Abraham (millat Ibrhm)[24] so often lauded in the Quran:
And who shrinks from the religion of Abraham except one who makes a fool of himself?[25]

In the Seventh Heaven

The following extract from Chapter 167 of the Futht al-Makkiyya covers the whole section
on the seventh heaven, whose ruling prophet is Abraham and whose planet is Saturn.[1]
The two travellers then depart [from the sixth heaven of Moses and Jupiter], the
Muhammadian upon the litter of Divine Solicitude (rafraf al-'inya)[2]and the speculative
thinker upon the steed of reflective thinking (burq al-fikr). Then the seventh heaven is
opened up to them, which from there is the first [of the heavens] in reality.[3] Here Abraham,
the Intimate Friend, peace be upon him, comes to meet him, while the speculative thinker is
met by the planet Saturn.[4] Saturn installs him in a dark, deserted and desolate house, and
says to him: "This is the house of your brother," meaning his own soul (nafs),[5] "stay in it
until I come to you, for I am in the service of this Muhammadian follower because of the one
with whom he is staying, who is the Intimate Friend of God."
Then Saturn goes off to Abraham, and finds him resting his back against the Visited House (albayt al-ma'mr),[6] with the follower seated before him as a son sitting in front of his father,
and Abraham is saying to him: "What an excellent and devoted child". The follower asks him
about the three lights,[7] to which Abraham replies: "They were my proof against my people:
God gave them to me out of sheer kindness ('inya) from Him to me. I did not speak of them
as being associations [with God], but I placed them as a hunter's snare with which to catch
the wandering thoughts[8] of my people."
Then Abraham says to him: "O you who follow [the prophet], distinguish the degrees[9] and
recognise the various creeds.[10] Stand upon clear proof from your Lord[11] in your affair,
and do not neglect your tradition, for you are not neglected nor is a legacy bequeathed in vain.

Make your heart like this Visited House, by being present with God in every state. Know that
of all that you see, nothing is large enough for the Real God except the heart of the believer,
[12] and that is you!"
When the speculative thinker hears this address, he says: "Alas for me for what I have
squandered of the Divine Side,[13] and I was one of those who mock".[14] He realises how he
has failed to have faith in that messenger and follow his teaching (sunna), and he says: "If
only I had not taken my intellect as a guide, and if only I had not followed the way of thought
with it!"[15] Each of these two people perceives what the high spiritual realities bestow and
what the Highest Assembly glorifies and praises, each according to the purity and freeing of
their soul from the captivity of the natural constitution[16] everything that is in the universe
is imprinted within the essence of the soul of each of them, so that they can only really know
what they have witnessed of their own soul (nafs) in the mirror of their essence (dht).
Now there is a story[17] about a wise man who wanted to demonstrate this spiritual station to
the king: while a master painter occupied himself with painting a picture of the most
exceptional composition and the most perfect workmanship, the sage devoted himself to
burnishing the wall [opposite] which faced the paintings. Between the two of them there was a
curtain hanging down. When they had both finished their work, and done their very best as far
as they were each concerned, the king came and stood in front of what the artist had painted:
he saw marvellous pictures, with such beauty of composition and excellence of painting as
would dazzle the senses. He looked at the colours in this beautiful composition, and it was just
like looking at a wonderful view.[18]
Then he looked at what the other [the sage] had done in burnishing that surface, but he saw
nothing. Then the sage said to him: "O king, my work is more full of grace and loveliness than
his, and my wisdom more recondite and difficult to comprehend than his. Raise now the
curtain between me and him, so that you may see at one glance my work and his."
So the king lifted the curtain, and upon that burnished surface was displayed all that the other
man had painted, in an even more beautiful form than it was in itself. And the king was
astonished. Then the king also saw his own form and the form of the sage-polisher in that
surface, at which he was [even more] bewildered and astounded.
"How can this be?" he asked, to which the sage replied: "O king, I did this for you as an
example of your own self in relation to the forms of the world: if you were to polish the mirror
of your soul with spiritual practices and exercises, until you were pure of heart and you had
removed the rust of nature from your soul, then you would receive the forms of the world in
the mirror of your essence (dht), wherein everything that is in the whole world is portrayed."
It is at this limit that the speculative thinker and followers of the messengers come to a stop.
For this comprehensive presence belongs to both of them. Yet the follower goes beyond the
speculative thinker in [knowing about] certain matters which have not been wholly portrayed
in the world this is by virtue of that private face which belongs to God within every created
possibility,[19] which[20] derives from that which cannot be limited, grasped or depicted. It is
by that [knowledge of the private face] that this follower is distinguished from the speculative
thinker.

And from this [seventh] heaven may come the enticement (istidrj), which one does not know
about,[21] the hidden trickery (makr) which one is not aware of,[22] the "secure
guile"[23] and the veil,[24] and being steadfast amidst one's affairs and proceeding in an
unhurried fashion in them.[25]
From here he will also know the meaning of His saying: "The creation of the heavens and the
earth is greater than the creation of mankind".[26] For both of them occupy the rank of
parenthood[27] in relation to mankind, who never attain to them. He, may He be exalted,
says: "Be grateful to Me, and to your parents".[28]
From this heaven he also comes to know that everything else apart from humans and jinn is
blessed (sa'd),[29] and does not enter into the misery of the other world. He knows that
among men and jinn there are those who are wretched and those who are blessed. The
miserable one (shaq) only remains among the wretched for a determined period, since Mercy
and Compassion is precedent to Anger, whereas the blessed are such indefinitely, without time
restriction.[30]
It is here that he also comes to know the high esteem accorded to the creation of Man (insn)
and the special employment of the two Divine Hands in creating Adam, to the exclusion of all
other creatures.[31] He knows, moreover, that there is not a single category of creature that
does not possess a way which is unique in creation the species of the world do not become
diverse on account of this. Their variety is by virtue of Man, and it is due to him that creation
itself becomes multiform. For the creation of Adam differs from the creation of Eve, and the
creation of Eve differs from the creation of Jesus, and the creation of Jesus is not the same as
the creation of the rest of the children of Adam, and yet all of them are human beings. It is for
this reason that for human beings the badness of an action may be presented in a favourable
light, so that one takes it to be good. Following the revelation (tajall) of [the reality of] this
delusory embellishment, the follower gives thanks to God, may He be exalted, for delivering
him from such a thing.
As for the speculative thinker, he only experiences joy in this revelation, which bestows good
upon him in that which is [actually] bad, and this comes from the Divine trickery.[32] Thus are
the potential realities (a'yn) of forms, which lie below this sphere extending as far as the
earth exclusively, established within the essential substance (jawhar).[33] And thus is also
known the creed[34] of Abraham, which is a tolerant creed, with no sense of restriction in it.
[35]
When he knows of these spiritual realities, and becomes acquainted with the fatherhood of
Islam, the speculative thinker wants to be close to Abraham. Abraham then asks the follower:
"Who is this stranger with you?" and the follower replies: "He is my brother."
"Your milk-brother or your blood-brother?" Abraham asks. "My water-brother", the follower
replies.
"You are right, that is why I do not recognise him. Do not keep company with anyone except
your milk-brother, just I am your milk-father. The Presence of Supreme Bliss (al-hadrat alsa'dyya) only admits milk-brothers, milk-fathers and milk-mothers, for they are suitable in

the sight of God. Do you not see that knowledge manifests as milk in the Presence of
Imagination, and this is because of the suckling relationship?"
The speculative thinker's means of support is removed,[36] when the relationship with the
fatherhood of Abraham, peace be upon him, is cut off from him. Abraham then bids the
follower enter the Visited House, and he goes into it without his companion. His companion
[the thinker] hangs his head low, and then leaves through the door by which he came in. He
cannot leave through the door of the angels, which is the second door, due to a special quality
in it which is that the one who leaves by it will never return.
Then the follower departs from the presence of Abraham, seeking to rise again, and he
embraces his companion, the speculative thinker, there. To the latter it is said: "Wait here until
your companion returns you cannot go on, as this is the end of the [realm of] smoke
(dukhn)."[37] Then the thinker says: "I will submit and embrace Islam, and put myself under
the authority of that which my companion has entered."[38] But he is told: "This is not the
right place to receive Islam. When you return to your own home, from which you and your
companion [first] came, that is [the proper place]: once you have submitted [there] and
believed [in your heart] and followed the way of the one who constantly turns to God, being
converted by the messengers who bring news from God,[39] only then can you receive in the
way that your companion has received."

Notes to Part 1
[1] Q.95:14.
[2] This passage is the eighth dream in K. al-Mubashshirt (for details see S. Hirtenstein, The
Unlimited Mercifier (Oxford, 1999), pp.845).
[3] One of the high places of Paradise see Q.83:1821. In his R. al-Anwr, Ibn 'Arab
describes 'Illiyn as "the world of bewilderment, deficiency and incapacity, and the treasuries of
actions (khaz'in al-a'ml)" (Ras'il, p.166).
[4] Traditionally, the "bearers of the Quran" (hamalat al-qur'n) refers to the first transmitters
of the recitation, who were taught the Divine Word by the Prophet, and who were responsible
for the assembly and arrangement of the first written corpus during the reign of the third
Caliph, 'Uthmn (23/64435/656). For Ibn 'Arab, the meaning is more universally applicable:
"The lovers of God are called the Bearers of the Quran'. Their Beloved unites all attributes, so
they are identical with the Quran" (Fut.II.346).
[5] Q.34:37: "It is not your wealth nor your children that bring you close in nearness to Us,
except for one who has faith and acts righteously these shall have double reward for what
they have done, and they shall be in high chambers in security and confidence." Here we can
see the Quranic basis for the connection between good actions and high chambers.
[6] Time magazine, 30 Sept 2002.
[7] By Bruce Feiler (William Morrow, 2002).

[8] Uri Rubin, "Hanfiyya and Ka'ba: an inquiry into the Arabian pre-Islamic background of dn
Ibrhm", in The Arabs and Arabia on the eve of Islam, ed. F. E. Peters (Ashgate Publishing,
1999), p.86.
[9] Zayd and others like him used to pray towards the Ka'ba because they believed that
Abraham himself used to pray that way. There is some evidence that Muhammad himself used
the Ka'ba as a qibla during his first years in Mecca, before taking, for a limited time,
the qibla of Jerusalem. See Rubin, p.102.
[10] Fut.II.270ff: all the following quotations come from this chapter and can be found in the
accompanying translation (see pp.1321).
[11] The follower here does not simply mean an adherent of the external law, but one who
commits their heart and soul to God and "follows" what He reveals. As Ibn 'Arab describes
later, he is in fact Muhammadian and therefore a "saint".
[12] For a fuller discussion of the wajh al-khass, see our article, "Between the secret chamber
and the well-trodden Path", JMIAS, XVIII, 1995.
[13] Ecclesiastes 1:2.
[14] Allusion to the hadth quds: "Neither My heavens nor My earth contain Me, but only the
heart of my faithful servant contains Me."
[15] Fut.II.279. This principle of milk manifesting as knowledge in dreams is graphically
expressed in the story of Taq ibn Mukhallad, who was given a bowl of milk to drink by the
Prophet in a dream. On waking up, he made himself sick in order to verify if it had really
happened, and he vomited up a large quantity of milk prompting Ibn 'Arab to comment that
"he frustrated himself of an immense knowledge equal to what he drank" (Wisdom of the
Prophets, Chapter in the Word of Isaac (Beshara Publications, p.50), Fuss (Beirut, 1946,
p.86)).
[16] However, it might also describe the life of good works, which both the follower and the
speculative thinker perform.
[17] Q.4:24.
[18] Fut.I.5 this is an interesting reading of Q.22:78: "...the creed of your father Abraham;
he/He named you muslims". The light here is that which separates truth from falsehood, the
root of the word mubn having the meanings of clarity (bayn) and division (bayn).
[19] See Fuss, Chapter in the Word of Abraham (Beirut edn), p.80, Wisdom of the
Prophets, p.40: "Do you not see that God (al-haqq) manifests with the qualities of recent
things? ...Do you not see that the creature manifests with the qualities of God, from their
beginning to their end?"
[20] For Ibn 'Arab the sacrifice of his son was precisely a test of knowledge, regarding the
transposition of the dream-image to its image in the sensory realm, rather than of faith.

[21] We may note that the Wisdom of this chapter is called the Wisdom of Being lost in love
(muhayyamya), emphasising the interpenetration of lover and beloved, knower and known.
Abraham is of course the model of the wanderer who gives up all he has, to serve and honour
the love of God.
[22] Fuss (Beirut edn), p.82.
[23] "...O marvel, a garden amidst the flames! My heart has become capable of all forms. It is
a pasture for gazelles, a convent for Christian monks, a temple for idols and the pilgrim's
Ka'ba, the tablets of the Torah and the book of the Quran. I follow the religion of Love:
whatever way Love's camels take, that is my religion and my faith." These famous lines from
the Tarjumn are quintessentially Abrahamic: each of these images can be found in the town
of Urfa in southern Turkey, where Abraham is reported to have lived and which has been a
place of pilgrimage for many hundreds of years. The "garden amidst the flames" recalls the
story of Abraham being cast into a fire ("O fire, be coolness and safety for Abraham",
Q.21:69).
[24] The word milla is also used in Hebrew where it refers to the pact of circumcision. So we
may understand this creed as a circumcision of the heart, laid bare before the Singularity of
God. This is the true inclination of man (hanf), the root of this term meaning "to incline or
lean". See Fut.IV.57, where Ibn 'Arab describes the hunaf' as "those who incline to the side
of God".[25] Q.2:130.

Notes to Part 2
[1] I am deeply indebted to my friends and fellow-translators, Rosemary Brass, Jane Clark,
Cecilia Twinch and the late Layla Shamash, with whom I have been working on a translation of
Chapter 167 of the Futht and from whose comprehension I have benefited immensely. Any
lingering errors remain mine alone.
[2] The Divine Solicitude or providential care ('inya) which God lavishes on certain of His
creatures is a central notion in Ibn 'Arab's teaching. It conveys the sense of a special Divine
favour, given directly to a servant without any intermediary, and ultimately is what determines
whether a person becomes a Gnostic see, for example, Fut.II.289: "The light of faith
bestows felicity, and in no way can it be gained through proofs. It derives only from a divine
solicitude towards the one in whom it is found" (my italics, quoted in Chittick, Self-Disclosure
of God, p.169). Later in Chapter 167, Ibn 'Arab describes how the giving (or withholding) of
this Favour is the real cause of superiority appearing among human beings in this world. The
distinction is here emphasised by the contrast between the effortlessness of being carried
upon a litter or carriage and the active attention demanded by riding a steed.
[3] That is to say, this heaven is seventh in ascending order from earth, and first in
descending order. The others in order of ascent from the earth are as follows: the first heaven
Adam/Moon; the second heaven Jesus and John/Mercury; the third heaven Joseph
(Ysuf)/Venus; the fourth heaven Enoch (Idrs)/Sun; the fifth heaven Aaron/Mars; the
sixth heaven Moses/Jupiter.

[4] This pattern of meetings is established from the very beginning: the follower meets the
prophet of each heaven, while the speculative thinker meets only the planet belonging to that
sphere.
[5] The soul or self here denotes the lower soul unrefined by the light of faith and gnosis. Ibn
'Arab also uses it in other contexts to describe more refined dimensions of the self, leading to
its fullest receptivity as the perfected or complete soul (nafs kmila).
[6] This celestial site and its identification with Abraham is attested in various hadith (see
Wensinck, Concordance, IV, pp.3534). According to Anas b. Mlik, "70,000 angels enter it
each day, and they do not return there" (Muslim, Imn, 259). The root of ma'mr ('-m-r) has
meanings of "to cultivate (the earth), make sure that the house is not deserted, frequent,
visit, inhabit, be inhabited and live long". Ma'mr could be translated as both
inhabited/peopled or oft-visited/frequented. As the House of the Heart it is viewed as being
visited or peopled by the angels who are constantly coming and going, and stands in stark
contrast to the deserted and lonely house of the soul.
[7] Referring to the star, moon and sun mentioned in Q.6:769: "When night outspread over
Abraham, he saw a star and said: This is my Lord'. But when it set, he said: I love not those
who set'. When he saw the moon rising, he said: This is my Lord'. But when it set, he said: If
my Lord does not guide me, I shall surely be of those who go astray'. When he saw the sun
rising, he said: This is my Lord. This is the greatest!'. But when it set, he said: O my people,
surely I am quit of what you associate. I have turned my face to Him who originated the
heavens and the earth, a man of pure faith (hanf). I am not one of those who cover up'."
[8] Or: "errant intelligences".
[9] The levels (martib) of existence are an integral part of the cosmos, and therefore must
be distinguished. "The levels make known that which is ranked higher and that over which it is
ranked. The levels distinguish between God and the world, and they manifest the realities of
the Divine Names in terms of their more inclusive or less inclusive connections [with the
creatures]" (Fut.II.469, my trans., see Chittick, Sufi Path of Knowledge, p.48). "He who knows
that excellence pertains to the levels (rutab), not to his own entity ('ayn), will never deceive
himself into thinking that he is more excellent than anyone else, although he may say that one
level is more excellent than another level" (Fut.III.225, my trans., see SPK p.48).
[10] The creeds (madhhib, pl. of madhhab), would usually be taken to refer to the four
schools of Islamic law, Hanafi, Hanbali, Maliki and Shafi'i. But it is more common for Ibn
'Arab, as here, to take it in its most universal and literal sense as "the ways of going" to God,
or individual forms of religious belief and practice.
[11] Alluding to Q.11:17: "And what of him who stands upon clear proof from his Lord, and a
witness from Him recites it, and before him is the Book of Moses as guide and mercy?"
[12] Alluding to the hadth quds: "Neither My heavens nor My earth can contain Me, but only
the heart of my faithful servant contains Me." This hadthis frequently cited in Sufi texts.
[13] Or: "for I have been remiss with regard to God".

[14] Q.39:56. Ibn 'Arab is here making a sharp distinction between the heart of the servant,
which is faithful and in a state of rapture with God, and the soul, which is full of regret and
self-absorption.
[15] This phrase echoes Q.25:289: "If only I had taken a way along with the messenger!
Alas for me, if only I had not taken so-and-so as a friend (khall)!" The use of the term khall,
which is associated particularly with Abraham, is a telling example of Ibn 'Arab's fidelity to the
meaning of each word of this Quranic text.
[16] This could be read as "from the strength of natural disposition".
[17] Compare this with the story in Rumi's Mathnawi about the Greeks (who are called Sufis)
and the Chinese, Book I, p.189 (trans. Nicholson). The source for the story appears to be
Ghazl.
[18] Reading fa-r'a amran hlahu manzarah, as the autograph appears to read. The printed
editions are at variance here.
[19] Literally, "every possible thing which is newly arrived" (mumkin muhdath). The possible
is the complement of the Real Being, and having no being of its own, can only be in a state of
becoming. Its "arrival" is an ever-new becoming, without time-dimension, in contrast to the
ancientness or priority (qidam) of Being. The connection between these two aspects is what
Ibn 'Arab calls "the private face" (al-wajh al-khss).
[20] The Arabic is ambiguous: this could mean that it is the private face which derives from
the Unlimited, or that each possibility has been created (muhdath) from the Unlimited.
[21] See Q.7:182: "We will draw them on/entice them whence they know not...".
[22] See Q.27:50: "And they devised a trick; and We devised a trick while they were not
aware".
[23] See Q.7:1823: "We will draw them on, whence they know not; and I respite them
assuredly My guile is secure". Also Q.68:45. It could also be translated as "powerful
stratagem".
[24] See for example Q.41:5: "They say: Our hearts are veiled from what thou callest us to,
and in our ears is a heaviness, and between us and you is a veil; so act; we are acting!'."
[25] This passage seems to refer not only to the earthy gravitas associated with the Saturnine
disposition, the "lead" of human dignity, but more particularly to the example of Abraham
when commanded to sacrifice his son, and how he remained true to what he was told to do.
[26] Q.40:57 "...but most of mankind do not know."
[27] Literally, "fatherhood", which echoes the Quranic description of Abraham as "the father
of you all" (Q.22:78). Ibn 'Arab calls Abraham "our second father" (Fut.I.5), since Adam is our
first father in bodily terms.[28] Q.31:14.

[29] The terms sa'd (happy, blessed, felicitous) and shaq (unhappy, miserable, wretched)
are Quranic expressions applied to the people who inhabit the Gardens of Paradise and the Fire
of Hell, respectively.
[30] In many passages Ibn 'Arab emphasises the absolute supremacy of Divine Mercy over
Wrath, using several verses from the Quran and Hadith as proof-texts. Later in Chapter 167,
for example, he explains Q.11:1068 as follows: "God says regarding the people of Paradise:
a gift uninterrupted', and He does not ascribe to it an end. And He says regarding the people
of Hell, who are wretched because the Foot of All-Compelling Power (jabart) has dominion:
indeed your Lord does as He wishes'. He does not say that the condition they are in will not
cease, like He does for the blessed ones. What prevents that is His saying: And My Mercy
embraces everything' and His saying: Indeed My Mercy precedes My Wrath'...".
[31] Alluding to Q.38:75, where God says to Iblis: "What prevented you from prostrating
yourself to him [Adam] whom I created with My two Hands?" Ibn 'Arab explains the meaning
of the Two Hands not in terms of blessing and power, since that is true of every existent, but
rather in terms of incomparability (tanzh) and similarity (tashbh). Only in Adamic Man can
God manifest all His attributes, both transcendent and immanent. "His words [in the above
Quranic verse] point out Adam's eminence" (Fut.II.4).
[32] Ibn 'Arab has devoted a whole chapter, 231, of the Futht to the various forms of
Divine trickery or deception (makr). "In our own view, God's deceiving the servant is that He
should provide him with knowledge that demands practice, and then deprive him of the
practice; or that He should provide him with practice, and then deprive him of sincerity in the
practice" (Fut.II.529, trans. SPK p.267). Ultimately, "trickery" is a mercy that is educational,
and brings the servant to the realisation of true indigence.
[33] The word jawhar (which in philosophy is used in contrast to "accidents") has alchemical
associations: it designates the substance which undergoes transformations.
[34] Milla may mean either religion/creed or the community which follows that creed.
[35] See Q.22:78: "Struggle for God as is His due, for He has chosen you and has laid upon
you no restriction in religion, being the creed of your father Abraham he/He named you
muslims before and in this that the Messenger might be a witness over you and you be
witnesses over mankind."
[36] That is to say, it is the last straw for him.
[37] "Smoke" here seems to allude to the arena of nature, in particular the heavens, as well
as the aspiration to rise by one's own efforts. As the following passage explains, smoke is a
quality of nature, which rises by itself. "The angels belong to the world of nature: they are the
inhabitants of the spheres and the heavens. God has instructed you that He went straight to
the heaven when it was smoke (Q.41:11) and then He proportioned them as seven
heavens (Q.2:29), making its folk [angels] from them, which is what is meant by His
words and He revealed in each heaven its command/order(Q.41:12). No-one denies that
smoke is from nature, even if the angels are luminous bodies, just as the jinn are fiery
bodies" Fut.II.650 (trans. SDGp.306).

[38] This is reminiscent of the profession of faith of the Pharaoh, which Ibn 'Arab discusses
earlier in the chapter, except that the Pharaoh's attestation took place on the earthly level and
was accepted.
[39] As the Prophet says, "Follow me that God may love you".

Practical Sufism
An Akbarian Foundation for a Liberal Theology
of Difference
by Vincent Cornell
Among the criticisms leveled at the Sufi tradition by its modern Muslim opponents, two stand
out as most prominent. The first is that Sufism does not represent authentic Islam. This is

allegedly because its teachings do not come directly from the Qur'an, the Prophet Muhammad,
and the first generations of Muslims (al-Salaf al-Salih). According to this "Salafi" argument,
Sufism is a Trojan horse for unwarranted innovations that owe their origins to non-Muslim
civilizations such as Greece, Persia, and India. The Salafi polemic began early in the history of
Sufism, and is often associated with the anti-Sufi arguments of Hanbali scholars, such as Ibn
al-Jawzi (d.1201) in Talbis Iblis or Ibn Taymiyya (d.1328) in his critiques of Ibn 'Arabi.[1] It
was given a new lease on life in the twentieth century by the modernist reformer Muhammad
Rashid Rida (d.1935), who edited Ibn Taymiyya's works and influenced later Salafi ideologues
such as Hasan al-Banna (d.1949), the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood.[2] Although Banna
saw some value in what he called "pure" Sufism, he condemned the Sufi tradition as a whole
for incorporating foreign ideas, such as "the sciences of philosophy and logic and the heritage
and thought of ancient nations". As a result, he asserted, "Wide gaps were opened for every
atheist, apostate, and corrupter of opinion and faith to enter by the door in the name of
Sufism."[3]
In the generation after Banna's death, Salafi modernism, represented by the Muslim
Brotherhood and allied groups such as Pakistan's Jamaat-i Islam, contracted a marriage of
convenience with Salafi traditionalism, represented by the Wahhabi sect of Saudi Arabia. The
result of this union was the birth in 1962 of the Muslim World League (Rabitat al-'Alam alIslami), which provided financial and institutional support for Salafi missionary activities in the
Muslim world and beyond.[4] The worldwide spread of Salafism was accompanied by a
systematic campaign against Islamic traditionalism (except for Hanbali traditionalism) that has
seriously undermined Sufism as a viable spiritual alternative in Muslim countries. In the words
of Sayyid Qutb (d.1966), the former head of the Muslim Brotherhood's Section for the
Propagation of the Message, the al-Salaf al-Salih "created a generation the generation of the
Companions of the Prophet, may God be pleased with them without comparison in the
history of Islam, even in the entire history of man. After this, no other generation of this
caliber was ever again to be found."[5] According to Qutb, traditional Islam allowed itself to be
reconquered by the very ignorance, depravity, and misguidance (jahiliyya) that the original
message of Islam had sought to overcome. Sufism supposedly helped to perpetuate this
new jahiliyya because it was a remnant of the "feudal ages": its traditionalism was an obstacle
to progress and reform, and it advocated a spiritual withdrawal from life that led to the evil of
a socially useless existence. For Qutb, Sufism was the first blow to be struck at the integrity of
Islamic thought and the existence of the "Islamic nation".[6]
Sayyid Qutb's polemic exemplifies the second major criticism of Sufism in the modern era:
that it is impractical and socially irrelevant. This critique has been nearly as harmful to the
reputation of Sufism as the accusation of inauthenticity. For Hasan al-Banna, Sufism fostered
an "isolated spirituality" (ruhaniyya i'tizaliyya) that leads to political and social quietism. This
tendency runs counter to the "socially-conscious spirituality" (ruhaniyya ijtima'iyya) of Islamic
activism, which promotes practice over theory and calls for open resistance against political
and social injustice.[7] Banna's successors were even more extreme in their criticisms of
Sufism's relevance. For Qutb and Muhammad al-Ghazali (d.1996), Sufism was a medieval
relic. Unscrupulous politicians used Sufi doctrines to "drug the masses" and "exploit the
people" by causing victimized Muslims to resign themselves to their economic and social fate.
Unlike Banna, who maintained amicable relations with some Sufi orders, they saw the
Sufi tariqa as a prime cause of Muslim disunity.[8]

Today, leaders of Salafi organizations routinely use these critiques to turn Muslims away from
the Sufi message. In many communities, anti-Sufi attitudes have led to a "tyranny of the
majority" that adversely affects the lives of Muslims who follow the Sufi way. This tyranny can
be observed even in liberal democratic countries such as the United States. The American
Muslim, a widely distributed magazine published by the Muslim American Society of Falls
Church, Virginia, contains an advice column in which a "Sheikh" named Muhammad al-Hanooti
gives fatwas on various aspects of Muslim life and practice. In the September 2003 issue, a
woman who has been approached by "a good Muslim man" for marriage inquires about her
suitor's practice of Sufism (p. 38). She wonders about the suitability of a Sufi for marriage
because she does "not want to end up with someone who does something wrong against
Islam". Hanooti's response clearly illustrates the danger that Salafi ideas pose for Sufis who
wish to remain active in their communities. "I do not know what sort of Sufi he is," says
Hanooti, "but, in general, I advise you to marry a person who has good knowledge of Islam,
and one who is not merely following culture and tradition. In general, I would caution you
against marrying a Sufi, for a great many of them do not have a good knowledge of Islam and
are tilted toward lives of inconvenience." By counseling the woman to not marry a Sufi,
Hanooti is in effect saying that Sufis are not Muslims and that the Qur'anic ban against a
Muslim woman's marriage to a non-Muslim applies not only to the followers of other religions,
but to Sufis as well.
Sufism and Authentic Tradition
Those who are well acquainted with the doctrines and history of Sufism know that both of the
critiques detailed above are false. First of all, Sufism, like most religious institutions in Sunni
Islam, traces its origins to the Qur'an, the Sunna of the Prophet Muhammad, and the way
of al-Salaf al-Salih. Thus, Sufism has just as much right to be called "Salafi" as its opponents.
Most of the early systematizers of Sufism, such as Ab 'Abd al-Rahman al-Sulami (d.1021),
Ab Nu'aym al-Isfahani (d.1038 9), and Ab al-Qasim al-Qushayri (d.1074), were trained in
Shafi'i jurisprudence, which was "Salafi" to the core. Ahmad ibn Hanbal (d.855), the founder of
the Hanbali tradition, was a student of Imam al-Shafi'i (d.820), and the Hanbali and Shafi'i
legal schools do not differ on essential matters. Although Salafi opponents of Sufism have the
right to object to Sufi doctrines and practices, they do not have a warrant to claim that Sufism
has no authenticity. In fact, it is easier to claim that Sufism, not Salafism, is the more
authentic, because its traditions are more consistent with the historical contours of Islamic
thought. It is much more difficult to maintain, as Salafi modernists do, that nearly all of
Islamic thought between the first century of Islam and the nineteenth or twentieth century of
the Common Era is a distortion of "true" Islam.
The accusation that Sufism is impractical or socially irrelevant is equally false. In the Sufi
tradition, one of the earliest terms for "saint" was salih. This is the same term used in the
phrase, al-Salaf al-Salih, which denotes the supposed forerunners of today's Salafis. The
Qur'an mentions the salihin, along with martyrs and propagators of the Islamic message, as
people whom Allah has favored (4: 69). A salih (fem. saliha) is a morally upstanding and
socially constructive person who performs righteous works (salah) and strives for the
improvement (islah) of oneself and one's fellow human beings.[9] Since a major role of the
Sufi salih is to make the world a better place, it is hard to argue that such a person is socially
irrelevant. The retreats and periods of meditation practiced by Sufi salihin were means to
specific ends; they were not ends in themselves. Many Sufis emerged from their retreats to

become active in their societies. Sometimes this activism was manifested outwardly, as among
the famous activist shaykhs of North Africa.[10] At other times it was manifested inwardly,
such as when Harith ibn Asad al-Muhasibi of Baghdad (d.837) formulated the Sufi doctrine of
the tripartite soul (nafs).[11] Are we to conclude that Muhasibi's ideas were not relevant
because he preferred to look for the causes of social problems such as murder, suicide, and
tyranny in the individual psyche rather than in society at large? Is a Sufi "psychologist" such
as Muhasibi less socially useful than a modern Salafi politician?
In the present-day culture war that pits Salafi and other forms of Islamic activism against an
ideologically demonized West, and that pits a resurgent Western positivism and cultural
imperialism against an ideologically demonized Islam, the perspectives of Sufism and other
major traditions of classical Islam are more important than ever. The wholesale rejection of the
historical traditions of Islamic thought by Salafi modernist ideologues constitutes a massive
example of the fallacy of the excluded middle. To all intents and purposes, there are no
"middle ages" for Salafi Islam. Instead, the idealized memory of a pristine "original age"
provides the basis for a utopian political ideology whose vaunted "Islamic system" was never
part of traditional Islamic society. There is no historical authenticity in such a combination of
myth and fantasy. Although Salafi ideologues are often nostalgic for the past glory of Islamic
civilization, they seldom mention that this glory was built on foundations such as those
provided by Sufism and other traditional Islamic disciplines like Kalam and Falsafa that have
mostly been rejected by present-day reformers. Such a position is both logically and
historically untenable. In the study of Hadith, a tradition is considered inauthentic (marfu') if
the chain of transmission between the Prophet Muhammad and the present is broken. How
then, can Salafi modernism, which willfully rejects twelve centuries of Islamic development
between the Prophet and the present age, claim to be authentic when its own tradition
is marfu' as well?
Commenting on the contradictions of the early modern age, the Moroccan Sufi Ridwan ibn
'Abdallah al-Januwi (d.1583) warned his contemporaries: "Soon you will see, when the dust
clears, whether a horse or an ass is beneath you!"[12] Today's contradictions within Islam are
more lethal; it is a bomb, not an ass, which Salafi ideologues may be riding into the future.
The extremist tendency of Salafi utopianism has become all too visible since September 11,
2001. Its single-minded hubris has transformed a regional problem into a global crisis. If
Muslims cannot accept doctrinal differences among themselves, how can they hope to live in a
globalized world, in which cultural and religious differences are norms rather than exceptions?
An authentic Islamic theology of difference is needed to make sense of a pluralistic world.
Such a theology must be premised on the realization that the present state of religious
diversity reflects the will of God and that Islam allows different paths to an understanding of
the divine will.
Finding Interpretive Space
The dialectical process through which new theologies arise requires a hermeneutical space in
which critical thinking can take place. The Salafi regimes of power that dominate
contemporary Sunni discourse restrict such space by branding all approaches that do not fit
their agenda as "un-Islamic". It makes little difference whether these "un-Islamic" responses
seek a neo-traditionalist revival of the juridical, philosophical, or Sufi approaches of the past,
or whether they employ the tools of modern critical theory to come up with new solutions. The

Salafi response to the problem of making Islam relevant in the modern world is to proclaim,
"Islam is simple", and to reduce religious consciousness to a calculus of ritual obligations,
external symbols of group identity (such as modern "Islamic" dress), and political doctrines
that promote cultural and creedal exclusivism.[13] The radical superficiality of contemporary
Salafi thought has led to the development of a restrictive and highly ideologized sense of
orthodoxy that, when combined with the anti-traditionalism described above, has turned
Salafism, if not the majority of Sunni Islam, into more of a sectarian cult than an actual
religion.
Before modern times, few Muslim scholars of repute would dare to assert, "Islam is simple".
Islam, as it was lived and interpreted, was as simple or complex as it needed to be, and the
level at which it was approached depended on what circumstances required. The institution of
jurisprudence (fiqh), traditionally the most important intellectual discipline in Islam, was
premised on the need to apply the Shari'a in a multiplicity of different contexts, and developed
a sophisticated logic for interpreting the Law in different situations. The complexity of Islam in
practice was acknowledged further through the establishment of Islamic jurisprudence in
several methodological schools, which differed in their approach to textual sources, yet
recognized each other's right to exist. The juridical hermeneutical method, known as ta'wil,
was the subject of treatises within each school and was applied to both legal and theological
interpretation.[14]
The way in which ta'wil was used to create a hermeneutical space for new theological positions
is described by Ab Hamid al-Ghazali (d.1111) in Faysal al-tafriqa bayna al-Islam wa alzandaqa (The Decisive Criterion for Distinguishing Islam from Heresy). Ghazali wrote this work
to refute the tendency of Muslim scholars in his own time to condemn their opponents as
unbelievers or heretics. According to Ghazali, sacred texts such as Qur'an and Hadith are open
to interpretation on five different levels: (1) ontological-existential (dhati), (2) experiential
(hissi), (3) conceptual (khayali), (4) intellectual ('aqli), and (5) metaphorical
(shabahi or majazi).[15] These levels of analysis mark the boundaries of interpretive space in
Islam: "Everyone who interprets a statement of the Lawgiver in accordance with one of the
preceding levels has deemed such statements to be true ... It is [thus] improper to brand as
an unbeliever anyone who engages in such interpretation, as long as he observes the rules of
hermeneutics (qanun al-ta'wil)."[16]
Ghazali's method of qanun al-ta'wil was predicated on the assumption that the jurist or
theologian will at times be compelled to acknowledge "the logical impossibility of the literal
meaning (zahir) of a [sacred] text".[17] When this happens, hermeneutical space must be
made available for alternative explanations. To render an interpretation valid, one must
interrogate each of the five hermeneutical alternatives systematically, thus establishing a
logical warrant for the method that one chooses to employ.[18] Ghazali does not claim that all
interpretations of a sacred text are of equal value. Some may be misguided or even
completely wrong. However, wrong interpretations should not be suppressed as heresy.
Instead, they must be disproved dialectically. An interpretation is heretical only if it denies the
truth of a sacred text on all five hermeneutical levels. Epistemologically, the exegesis of a
sacred text constitutes informed opinion (zann) and not absolute truth (haqq). Thus, no one
may claim an exclusive right of interpretation and no single interpretation is definitive.
Ghazali's methodology of qanun al-ta'wil fulfills an important need in contemporary Islamic
thought because it grants dissident thinkers the right to express their views. In this way, it

helps preserve alternative voices that keep the process of interpretation open-ended. In terms
of modern political philosophy, its spirit conforms to the liberal ideal of freedom of speech by
conceding to jurists and theologians the right to be wrong.
An Akbarian Approach to Religious Difference
The warrant to interpret sacred texts on more than one level is necessary if Muslim
theologians are to engage constructively with theologians of other religions. Contemporary
Muslims must reexamine the full panorama of Islamic religious thought, assess its successes
and failures, and listen once again to the voices that have been silenced. Today, these silenced
voices include most of the intellectual traditions of medieval Islam: philosophy, systematic
theology, the classical jurisprudential tradition of Sunni Islam, and Sufism. Although it would
be a mistake to consider all Sufis "liberal" or "open-minded", Sufi thinkers were more inclined
than their exoteric counterparts to view Islam from a wider perspective and deal meaningfully
with religious difference. In part, this was because they understood theology in its original
sense as the "study of the nature of God", and followed their inquiries wherever this definition
took them. Some of the most perceptive Sufi writings on religious difference came from the
school of Ibn 'Arabi (d.1240), who was one of Islam's greatest metaphysicians. Many of the
tenets of "Akbarian" theology, which refers to Ibn 'Arabi's designation as "The Greatest Master"
(al-Shaykh al-Akbar) by his followers, were criticized by opponents of Sufism for not adhering
to the creedal boundaries of mainstream Islam.[19] An example of such an alleged
"innovation" can be found in the treatise entitled, al-Insan al-Kamil (The Perfect Man), by the
Iraqi Sufi 'Abd al-Karim al-Jili (d.1428). Jili, who was one of the most important of Ibn 'Arabi's
doctrinal successors, ends a discussion on the origin of religious difference with the following
statement:
Ten sects are the sources for all of the religious differences (which are too numerous to
count), and all differences revolve around these ten. They are: Polytheists, Naturalists,
Philosophers, Dualists, Magians, Materialists, "Barhamites", Jews, Christians, and Muslims. For
every one of these sects God has created people whose destiny is Heaven and people whose
destiny is the Fire. Have you not seen how the polytheists of past ages who lived in regions
not reached by the prophet of that time are divided into those who do good, whom God
rewards, and those who do evil, whom God recompenses with fire? Each of these sects
worships God, as God desires to be worshipped, for He created them for Himself, not for
themselves. Thus, they exist just as they were fashioned. [God] may He be glorified and
exalted, manifests His names and attributes to these sects by means of His essence and all of
the sects worship Him [in their own way].[20]
At first glance, this passage appears to deny the significance of religious difference and to
promote an early version of the "transcendent unity of religions" thesis. However, after a more
careful reading, one discovers that it is a justifiable, if unconventional, interpretation of certain
Qur'anic verses according to Ghazali's method of qanun al-ta'wil:
For each one of you we have made a Law (shir'a) and a way of life (minhaj). If God had
wished, He would have made you into a single community. Instead, He has done this so that
He may try you with what He has given you. So strive against each other in good works, for to
God is the return for all of you and He will inform you about that wherein you differ (5: 48).

If your Lord had willed it, everyone on earth would have believed. Would you then force
people to become believers? (10: 99)
Although Jili's exegesis of the Qur'an was innovative, it was fully valid according to the rules of
hermeneutics proposed by Ghazali. Jili began his analysis by taking the sacred text at its literal
word. Starting from the literal meaning (zahir) of the Qur'anic verses, he employed the
method of qanun al-ta'wil on the conceptual and intellectual levels of meaning, without
resorting to metaphor. Then he took another Qur'anic verse, "God does whatever He wishes"
(2: 253), and applied the theological notion of divine voluntarism to the empirical fact of
religious diversity. The conclusions that Jili draws in al-Insan al-Kamil that the existence of
religious differences is God's will, and that all human beings, even unbelievers, practice
religion as God intended them to do follow logically from this process of interpretation.
However, this is not to say that Jili's interpretation is the "true" meaning of these Qur'anic
verses. It is only to say that his interpretation is as valid as any other interpretation derived
from the literal meaning of these three verses. Even more, Jili affirms that Islam is the
quintessential religion of God. Later on in the text, when he discusses how "each sect finds
pleasure in its tenets" (Qur'an, 30: 32) he does not absolve the unbelievers of their errors.
[21] For Jili, religions are not equal in value. However, when the Qur'an commands, "There is
no compulsion in religion" (2: 256), this means that even false religions should be respected
by Muslims because all religions, including those that are in error, exist by God's will.
Contemporary Muslims should carefully consider Jili's reasoning and the Qur'anic verses that
support it. In the modern age, the chief problem for Islamic theology is not the proliferation of
local religions, but the competition of rival world religions, most of which have histories longer
than that of Islam and have developed sophisticated means of defense and interpretation. If
God had truly intended to save the world through the message of Christ alone, then why
would He have allowed the theological challenge of Islam? If Islam resolved all of the
contradictions of Christian theology, then why is Christianity still the largest religion? Part of
the answer to these questions, Jili would assert, lies in the recognition that each religion
contains a portion of universal truth, to which people respond in their own way. Theological
hostility can never be transformed into tolerance until this fact is recognized. In a recent
unpublished paper, Martin Lings, commenting on Mark XII, 30 ("Thou shalt love the Lord thy
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength"),
notes that Muslim and Christian religious authorities have been much too eager to risk "with
all thy mind" for the sake of "with all thy soul and with all thy strength".[22]
The Creative Command and the Islamic Original Position
According to Akbarian moral theology, there are two types of divine command, which entail
different kinds of human obligations. Each command implies a different way of approaching
the religious other. The first type of divine command conceives of the other in a universal
sense, as a fellow descendant of Adam, the first human being. According to this perspective,
all human beings share the same natural rights and duties that derive from the covenant
contracted between God and humanity before the creation of Adam. The second type of divine
command is addressed more specifically and narrowly to the Muslim believer. It governs
obligations that are detailed in the Shari'a, and includes the Qur'anic verses of difference and
discrimination, which separate Muslims from believers in other religious traditions. These
verses discuss the relations between the Muslim community and other religious communities,

the theological relationship between Islam and other religions, and the rules of social
interaction, including the rules of war.
Ibn 'Arabi calls the first and most universal type of divine command the Creative Command
(al-amr al-takwini).[23] This command is "creative" because all of creation, including
humanity, is a product of God's goodness and creativity. The Qur'anic verses that best
characterize this command are: "My mercy encompasses everything" (7: 156); and "[God's]
only command when he desires a thing is to say to it Be!' and it is" (36: 82). The divine names
of mercy, al-Rahman and al-Rahim, govern the Creative Command because the act of divine
creativity the bestowal of existence upon nonexistence is the most merciful act that God
performs. The Creative Command is logically prior to all other divine commands because it
expresses most completely the Qur'anic message of unity. Under the terms of this command,
the most important duty of the human being is to recognize that insofar as she is human and
created, she has one God, one origin, one ancestor (Adam), one race, and shares with all
other human beings the same nature, dignity, and religion. This religion is Islam, in the
universal sense of recognizing and submitting to the consequences of one's ontological
dependence on God.
The relationship between God and the human being that is implied in the Creative Command is
formally expressed in the first part of the Shahada, the Islamic "witnessing" of ultimate truth:
"There is no god but Allah". This relationship also expresses what the liberal moral philosopher
John Rawls (d.2002) might have called the Islamic "Original Position". This is because the
Creative Command sets the most basic and fundamental terms on which the relationship
between self and other is predicated. For Rawls and Ibn 'Arabi alike, the relationship between
self and other is the basis of all natural duties, irrespective of whether it is between the human
being and God or between oneself and another human being.[24] This relationship is
epitomized in the Qur'an by the verse that describes humanity's covenant with its Creator and
Lord: "When thy Lord drew forth their descendants from the children of Adam, He made them
testify concerning themselves [saying]: Am I not your Lord?' They replied, Yes, we do so
testify'" (7: 172). Humanity's assent to the responsibilities implied in this covenant constitutes
the "social contract" that is the basis of the Islamic Original Position. Although the Qur'anic
"social contract" is hierarchical, and thus is not exactly the same as Rawls' secular contract
between ontological equals, it still meets the criterion of equality that is necessary for a liberal
theory of justice. This is because the Islamic Original Position conceives of all human beings as
ontologically and morally equivalent and as sharing the same natural rights and duties.
The normal human condition is to see God from the starting point of the world. To see God
from this perspective is to see God as the Lord and Creator of everything. This is the attitude
expressed in the Islamic Original Position when the human being responds to God's query, "Am
I not your Lord?" with "Yes, I do so testify." Muslim exegetes interpret this assent as having
been given before the earthly creation of the human being, when all of Adam's future
descendants were summoned to acknowledge God's Lordship and His role in their creation.
The fact that this covenant was contracted before humans were on earth implies that human
beings have a transcendent side to their nature, and thus have the ability to rise above their
earthly condition and view the world as if from a distance or a height.[25] The higher one
goes, the more the world appears as a whole, and differences that seem significant on the
ground become insignificant when viewed from above. From such a vantage point, all of the
world, including all peoples and all of their different beliefs, are part of the same reflection of

God, whose "face" will abide forever (55: 27), for "He is the First and the Last, the Outward
and the Inward" (57: 3). This universalistic worldview, in which self and other are part of the
same unity, is an important corollary of the Creative Command and gives rise to the natural
duties that result from the Islamic Original Position: "Oh humankind! Keep your duty to your
Lord, who created you from a single soul, and created its mate from it and from whom issued
forth many men and women. So revere the God by whom you demand rights from one
another and revere the rights of kinship" (4: 1). As this verse indicates, the duty to abide by
God's Creative Command includes reverence for the rights of kinship (al-arham, literally, "the
wombs"). Clearly, this duty applies to genealogical kinship, but it also applies to the greater
kinship of the human species, since all of humankind, as the children of Eve, are born from the
same womb.
To return to the terminology used by Rawls, the "initial contractual situation" of humanity's
covenant with God is the starting-point from which all concepts of right begin, including the
rights that people demand from each other. The fact that such rights are both mutual and
reciprocal is also part of the Islamic Original Position and is a consequence of the shared
ontology of humanity. This ontology includes a transcendent aspect, which is the spiritual
potential of each human being. The Qur'an says that God breathed His spirit into Adam (38:
72), and that "[God] created the heavens and the earth with truth and right (bi-l-haqq), and
fashioned [Adam] in the best of forms" (64: 3). Thus, human beings, who are composed of
both spirit and matter, have a natural duty to respect the rights of others, because both self
and other share the same combination of material being and spirit. This duty pertains
irrespectively of whether the other is one's biological kin or belongs to another race or religion.
To objectify and depersonalize another human being because of ideological or religious
differences is to forget that all humans are made up of the same combination of spirit and
clay. This is the mistake that led Satan, in the form of Iblis, to disrespect Adam by saying, "I
am better than [Adam]. You created me from fire, whereas you created him from clay" (7:
12).
According to Rawls, a conception of right "is a set of principles, general in form and universal
in application, that is to be publicly recognized as a final court of appeal for organizing the
conflicting claims of moral persons."[26] Such a conception of right may be derived directly
from the Islamic Original Position. As the Qur'an reminds us, not only was Adam created with
rights, but the entire cosmological universe ("the heavens and the earth") was similarly
created with haqq, an Arabic term that can mean "right", "truth", or "justice". The idea that all
created things possess rights that are part of their ontological nature is fundamental to the
Islamic conception of justice. The duty to respect the inherent rights of others is a corollary of
this premise; human dignity is a right that is not exclusive to Muslims. Thus, the tendency of
some Muslim ideologues to deny moral personhood to non-Muslims or dissenting Muslims is
both a lapse of understanding and a breach of God's Creative Command.
Another basic right that is derived from the Islamic Original Position is the right to life: "Do not
take a human life, which God has made sacred, other than as a right; this He has enjoined
upon you so that you might think rationally" (6: 151). Another is the right of free choice,
without which divine judgment would be meaningless: "The truth is from your Lord. So
whosoever wishes shall believe, and whosoever wishes shall disbelieve" (18: 29). It would
make a mockery of the God-given rights of dignity, life, and free choice for Muslims to restrict

the social and political rights of confessional minorities or to assign collective guilt to a nation
because of its religion or system of government.
The basic rights in Islam the right to life, the right to freedom, and the right to dignity
depend on a second natural duty that arises from the Islamic Original Position. This is the duty
of mercy (rahma), which is prior to all other duties in Islam except the acknowledgement of
humanity's common dependence on God. Allah says in the Qur'an, "My mercy encompasses
everything" (7: 156), and every Sura of the Qur'an except one begins with the formula: "By
the name of God, the Beneficent (al-Rahman), the Merciful (al-Rahim)".[27] Muslim reformers
who wish to reform their societies by making the Shari'a the basis of their legal systems often
forget that the duty of mercy applies to each and every obligation that is enjoined upon
human beings in the Qur'an. What this means in practice is that when the performance of an
obligation calls for severity, it is the duty of Muslims to temper severity with mercy.
The Command of Obligation and Islamic Justice
In terms of religious practice, the concept of obligation has more of a day-to-day impact on
the lives of individual Muslims than the concept of right. Thus, it is no surprise that the type of
divine command most often discussed in Islamic literature is the Command of Obligation (alamr al-taklifi).[28] This command forms the basis of the Islamic legal system and is divided by
jurists into injunctions covering acts of worship ('ibadat) and interpersonal behavior
(mu'amalat). The latter category includes business transactions, criminal justice, and the laws
of nations. The Arabic term, taklif, used in the phrase al-amr al-taklifi, is a legal and moral
concept that refers to the responsibility of individuals to carry out their obligations. The
Command of Obligation imposes specific obligations on Muslims, either individually or
collectively. It is a matter of debate whether such obligations should be obeyed simply because
they come from God or because they are good intrinsically. Muslim modernists, following the
teachings of Muhammad 'Abduh (d.1905), assert that all divine commands are subject to
empirical verifiability and serve a necessary function that can be proven rationally. Literalists,
such as the Wahhabis of Saudi Arabia, consider it sacrilegious to put God's commands to such
a test and assert that Muslims should obey them unquestioningly, simply because they come
from God. What is perhaps most significant is that neither side seems to have discussed this
question from the standpoint of a systematic moral philosophy. Whereas the juridical tradition
of Islam dealt with questions of moral choice pragmatically on a case-by-case basis, it was
primarily the philosophers and the Sufis who attempted to assess the Islamic concept of
obligation within the context of more universal conceptions of right and justice.[29] The
marginalization of philosophy and Sufism in contemporary Islam, and the resulting lack of
debate on the wider philosophical issues surrounding the concept of obligation have become
major contributing factors to the rise of extremism in the Muslim world.
The duty that governs the moral obligations of Muslims under the Command of Obligation
is justice. An alternative reading of the verse, "[God] created the heavens and the earth with
truth and right (bi-l-haqq)", is "God created the heavens and the earth with justice". Justice,
in the sense of what is right and proper, is a secondary meaning of the Arabic term, haqq.
Justice is enjoined on human beings as a natural duty in a number of Qur'anic verses: "Verily,
God commands justice and kindness" (16: 90); "Make peace between them with justice, and
act equitably" (49: 9). The Arabic term for justice in these verses, 'adl, corresponds closely to
the Aristotelian notion of justice, which carries the connotation of "fairness" or "equity".[30]

For Rawls, all obligations arise from the principle of fairness, because fairness "holds that a
person is under an obligation to do his part as specified by the rules of the institution
whenever he has voluntarily accepted the benefits of the scheme".[31] In Islam, "voluntary
acceptance of the scheme" is implied in the Islamic Original Position as a consequence of the
covenant struck between God and humanity. Justice is thus a natural duty in Islam because
human beings are "born into" justice from before their creation; the concept is, in effect "hardwired" into the physical and social worlds that humans occupy.[32] The major concepts that
are included in the notion of justice in Islam also appear as Divine Names. God is thus
characterized as The Truth (al-Haqq), Justice (al-'Adl), and The Fair or Equitable (al-Muqsit).
This is particularly significant because for Ibn 'Arabi and his school, the qualities of existence
are imparted as manifestations of the Divine Names.
A problem with applying the notion of justice to specific obligations in Islam is that justice is
most commonly understood as a moral duty, whereas the Command of Obligation is
understood as a legal requirement. Because the exact relationship between duties and
obligations has not been philosophically determined in contemporary Islam, there is a
tendency to fall into a confusion of priorities in the attempt to apply one or the other. Ibn
'Arabi, who was one of the few Muslim thinkers to address the problem of duty versus
obligation systematically, prioritized the two concepts in light of the two types of divine
command. The natural duty of mercy is enjoined upon human beings through what Ibn 'Arabi
called the "Mercy of Obligation" (rahmat al-wujub), which is an aspect of the Command of
Obligation.[33] Unlike the altruistic "Mercy of the Gratuitous Gift" (rahmat al-imtinan), which
is part of the Creative Command and is an expression of divine love and creativity, the Mercy
of Obligation refers to the mercy that is required in every moral action, according to the
Qur'anic verse: "Your Lord has prescribed mercy for Himself" (6: 12).[34] Ibn 'Arabi further
relates the concept of mercy to the divine names al-Rahman and al-Rahim, with the Mercy of
the Gratuitous Gift corresponding to al-Rahman and the Mercy of Obligation to al-Rahim.
Because of the reciprocal nature of justice, any act of mercy bestowed by one human being
upon another constitutes a gift for both the receiver and the giver. For the receiver, the gift of
mercy compensates for the severity of justice. For the giver, the duty to act mercifully is also a
gift from God because it counteracts the tendency of the ego to indulge in self-righteousness:
God exercises mercy as a gratuitous act under the name al-Rahman (The Beneficent), while
he obligates Himself (to requite with mercy) under the name al-Rahim (The Merciful).
Obligation is part of the Gratuitous Gift, and so al-Rahim is contained within al-Rahman. "God
has written upon Himself mercy" in such a way that mercy of this kind may be extended to His
servants in reward for the good acts done by them individually those good works which are
mentioned in the Qur'an. This kind of mercy is an obligation upon God with which He has
bound Himself toward those servants, and the latter rightfully merit this kind of mercy by their
good works.[35]
To summarize: the natural duty of mercy is part of the Islamic Original Position by virtue of the
Creative Command, which corresponds to the divine name al-Rahman. In like manner, the
Command of Obligation obliges human beings to act mercifully by virtue of the divine
name al-Rahim. Just as human mercy (rahma) is implicit in the idea of mercy as a universal
principle (al-Rahim), so the obligation to act mercifully on all possible occasions is a necessary
corollary to the notion of mercy as a natural duty. However, most people are not aware of the
logical priority of mercy and other natural duties that arise from the Creative Command. Mired

as they are in a world of difference and subjectivity, they interpret the Command of Obligation
in an exclusive sense, and overlook the logical priority of both the Creative Command and the
natural duties that arise from it:
The divine effusion is vast, because [God] is vast in bestowal. There is no shortcoming on His
part. But you have nothing of Him except what your essence accepts. Hence, your own
essence keeps the Vast away from you and places you in the midst of constraint. The measure
in which His governance occurs within you is your "Lord". It is He that you serve and He alone
that you recognize. This is the mark within which He will transmute Himself to you on the day
of resurrection, by unveiling Himself. In this world, this mark is unseen for most people. Every
human being knows it from himself, but he does not know that it is what he knows.[36]
The Muslim who views the world from a narrow, fideistic perspective can only perceive God
through his or her personal experiences. How God is to be conceived and what His commands
entail are questions whose answers are constrained by the limitations of one's understanding
of self and others. The sectarian interpretations that the believer gives the commands of God
may be justified in a qualified sense, but they are likely to lead to injustice if they are applied
universally and uncritically. This is because human understanding of the divine command
reflects one's own biased perspective more than it reflects a theological or philosophical
understanding of God as God truly is. In a commentary on the famous tradition, "He who
knows himself, knows his Lord," Ibn 'Arabi states: "You are the one who becomes manifest to
yourself, and this gives you nothing of [God] ... You do not know other than yourself."[37]
Even the Muslim jurist, who is trained to consider a scriptural obligation as prior to a moral
duty, must assess each obligation according to whether the divine command that governs it is
general or specific in its application. If the application is specific, he must inquire about any
limitations to its application that might arise through the historical context of its revelation.
[38] A divine command must not be applied universally if the context of its revelation
demonstrates conclusively that its application is specific to a particular time, place, or social
situation. An example of this dual problematic of prioritization and contextualization can be
found in Surat al-Tawba (Chapter on Repentance), where some of the most hostile verses
concerning Muslim and non-Muslim relations appear. How is a Muslim to respond when the
Qur'an commands: "Fight against such of those who have been given the Scripture as believe
not in Allah or the Last Day, and forbid not that which Allah has forbidden by His messenger,
and follow not the religion of truth, until they pay the tribute (jizya) readily, being brought
low" (9: 29)? Certainly, it is helpful to know that there is a limiting context: this discourse was
revealed at a time when the polytheists and the Jews in Arabia had broken their treaties with
the Muslims and banded together against the Prophet in what proved to be the final assault on
Medina. However, as late as the mid-twentieth century, Sayyid Qutb, who was fully aware of
the historical background of this verse, interpreted it as a general obligation to compel nonMuslim minorities to pay the jizya-tax. Even more, he defined the jizyanot as an exemption
from military service as Muslim apologists have often done, but as a protection tax and token
of humiliation that temporarily exempted Jews and Christians from persecution by the Islamic
state.[39] The prioritization of rights over duties embodied in Ibn 'Arabi's notion of the dual
nature of the divine command not only strengthens the liberal response to such discriminatory
interpretations, but it also supports the juridical tendency to promote mercy by seeking
limiting exceptions to the Command of Obligation whenever possible.

A Bridge to Hospitality and Toleration

The first step toward a new Islamic theology of difference is for Muslims to recognize that
ultimately, everything happens because God wants it to happen. This includes the fact of
human diversity, which the Qur'an mentions as having been created for the purpose of
reflection and learning:
Among [God's] signs are the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the differences of
your languages and colors. Herein indeed, are portents for those with knowledge (33: 22).
Oh humankind! We have created you male and female, and have made you nations and tribes
so that you may come to know one another. Verily, the noblest of you, in the sight of God, is
the most God-conscious of you. Verily, God is the Knowing and the Aware (49: 13).
Included within the diversity of which the Qur'an speaks are differences in human ideas,
worldviews, and religions, all of which exist because of God's Creative Command. However, the
acceptance of plural perspectives on the Absolute does not mean that all religions are
ultimately the same, or even that some religions might not be more effective paths to the
knowledge of God than others. By the same token, prioritizing the natural duty of mercy by
acknowledging the dignity of Buddhists and Christians or accepting the divine origins of
Judaism and Hinduism does not mean that Muslims cannot oppose the unjust actions of
believers in other religions. Actions should be seen as evil whenever they undermine the
universal principles of life, dignity, freedom of choice, and justice that are embodied in the
Qur'an and other scriptures. Evils should be opposed in themselves, and they should not be
seen as inescapable consequences of alternative religious beliefs. According to the Akbarian
perspective, no religion that God allows to exist is bad per se, and no one has the right to
exclude a believer in another religion from the brotherhood of the Islamic Original Position.
Individual Christians and Hindus can do bad things, but so can Muslims. Saying that Jews are
the eternal enemies of Islam or that American foreign policy is necessarily driven by
"Crusader" intentions is a moral and theological error of profound proportions. On the moral
level, this error is caused by ignoring the priority of the Creative Command over the Command
of Obligation; on the theological level, it is caused by ignoring the full meaning of the human
being as God's vicegerent (khalifa) on earth (2: 30 33).
For Muslims, the acceptance of religious differences does not have to mean abandoning one's
belief in the theological superiority of Islam or fearing that one is acting against God's will. In
fact, the situation is quite the opposite. The permissibility of religious pluralism is clearly
indicated in the following Qur'anic passage: "For each of you we have made a Law and a way
of life. If God had willed, He would have made you into a single community" (5: 48). In this
verse, "Law" (shir'a) is a synonym for religion, because it refers to the duties and obligations
that provide a framework for the moral life. In pre-modern Islam, the subject of "the Law
before Islam" constituted what we today would call the history of religions.[40] In addition,
the verse goes on to say: "Strive against each other in good works, for to God is the return for
all of you and He will inform you about that wherein you differ." Even a literal interpretation of
this statement would suggest that the only inter-religious competition that counts in the sight
of God is competition in good works, such that Muslims would compete with Jews, Christians,
and others in the alleviation of human suffering. This is very different from the belief,
expressed by contemporary Hamas and Islamic Jihad extremists, that strapping on a bomb

belt and blowing up a bus of Israeli school children will earn the martyr a reward in heaven
because the children are potential Israeli soldiers.
All morally significant acts, whether performed by Muslims or non-Muslims, must be judged by
prioritizing the rights and duties of the Creative Command over the requirements of the
Command of Obligation. Each moral individual is a responsible (mukallaf) person, who carries
out his or her obligations in the context of the religion or moral standard (shir'a) that one
accepts by virtue of either choice or birth. Most Muslims interpret the Qur'anic verse, "He it is
who has sent His Messenger with guidance and the religion of truth so that it may prevail over
all religion, even if those who assign partners to God disapprove" (9: 33), as an assurance of
the ultimate victory of Islam over other religions. However, Ibn 'Arabi's teachings remind us
that all human beings, including Muslims, "assign partners to God" in various ways. In his
view, believers in all religions are equally far from the "religion of truth" that will prevail at the
end of time. The will of God is not one-dimensional. Limiting the interpretation of God's word
to a single level of understanding was theologically untenable in the past, and it is even more
untenable today, when human knowledge has new tools for analyzing and reflecting on the
meaning of revelation. Five centuries ago, the Sufi and jurist Ahmad Zarruq of Fez (d.1493)
wrote: "He who practices Sufism without the Law is a heretic; he who practices the Law
without Sufism is a reprobate; but he who combines the Law and Sufism has attained the
truth."[41] What Zarruq meant by this was that the practice of scriptural hermeneutics
demands a multi-dimensional perspective, in which individual obligations are viewed in the
context of the creativity of God's will, and in which the outer word of the Law is interpreted in
light of its inner spirit.
As a unique combination of spirit and matter, the human being is by nature a builder of
bridges between conceptual worlds. Beneath the differences that obtain between religious
doctrines, sacred laws, and worldviews, all normal human beings share the ability to transcend
their limitations; all have the intellectual means to communicate with each other across
religious divides. In light of Qur'anic teachings, it is illogical to assume that religious
misunderstanding is normal or that religious differences cannot be bridged. If believers in
different religions are unable to understand each other, it means that one or both are lacking
in spiritual insight, or that one or both are in fundamental error about the nature of God.
Among the rights bestowed upon us by God, the right not to understand is nowhere to be
found. The Qur'an warns Muslims: "Be not of those who ascribe partners to God (mushrikun),
who split up their religion and become schismatics, each sect exulting in its doctrines" (33: 31
32). This error is part of the theological sin of shirk, a term usually defined as "assigning
partners to God", but which literally means, "sharing". In other words, it consists of letting
contingent ideas, concepts, and prejudices share in God's will and sovereignty, and as such, is
the greatest impediment to theological hospitality and the acceptance of difference. Along with
Ibn 'Arabi, all Muslims should be cognizant of the wider implications of the Qur'an's warning:
"God does not forgive your shirk, but he forgives all else, as He wills" (4: 48).
Notes
1. See Alexander D. Knysh, Ibn 'Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradition: the Making of a Polemical
Image in Medieval Islam (Albany, NY, 1999), pp. 87 112.

2. Ibid., p. 90. See also Richard P. Mitchell, The Society of the Muslim Brothers (New York and
Oxford, 1993 reprint of 1969 first edn), p. 5. Banna was a frequent visitor to the Salafiyya
bookstore in Cairo and the Muslim Brotherhood published the final edition of Rida's journal, alManar (ibid. pp. 321 2).
3. Mitchell, Muslim Brothers, p. 214.
4. The first council of the Muslim World League, which met in December 1962, was headed by
Muhammad ibn Ibrahim ibn Al al-Shaykh, a direct lineal descendant of Muhammad ibn 'Abd alWahhab (d.1791), the founder of Wahhabism, and included Said Ramadan, the son-in-law of
Hasan al-Banna. See Hamid Algar, Wahabbism: A Critical Essay (Oneonta, NY, 2002), p. 49.
Said Ramadan was stripped of his citizenship by the revolutionary government of Egypt in
1953. He had long been a key figure in the Muslim Brotherhood's international bureau and was
influential in the establishment of the Brotherhood in Syria. He subsequently received political
asylum in Switzerland, where his son, the prominent European Islamic intellectual Tariq
Ramadan, was born. See also Mitchell, Muslim Brothers, pp. 141 2.
5. Seyyid Qutb, Milestones (Damascus, English trans. of 1962 Arabic edn, n.d.), p. 15.
6. Mitchell, Muslim Brothers, p. 216.
7. Ibid. Mitchell translates ruhaniyya ijtima'iyya as "social spirituality".
8. Ibid.
9. On the concept of salah see Vincent J. Cornell, Realm of the Saint: Power and Authority in
Moroccan Sufism (Austin, TX, 1998), p. 6.
10. Ibid. See especially the chapters on Abu al-'Abbas al-Sabti (d.1204), pp. 79 92, and
Muhammad ibn Sulayman al-Jazuli (d.1465), pp. 155 229. In his youth, Hasan al-Banna joined
a socially active Sufi order known as the Hasafiyya. He was involved with this order for twenty
years, and claimed that the Hasafiyya Society for Charity was the inspiration for the Society of
the Muslim Brothers. Mitchell, Muslim Brothers, pp. 2 6.
11. On Muhasibi's theory of personality, see Margaret Smith, An Early Mystic of Baghdad: A
Study of the Life and Teaching of Harith B. Asad al-Muhasibi, A.D: 781 857 (London, 1977
reprint of 1935 first edn), pp. 86 110.
12. Muhammad ibn Yusuf as-Sijilmasi, Tuhfat al-ikhwan wa mawahib al-imtinan fi manaqib
Sidi Ridwan ibn 'Abdallah al-Januwi (Rabat: Bibliothque Gnrale, ms. 114K), p. 86. [All
translations are mine unless otherwise noted.]
13. In "Toward the Light", a manifesto for the reformation of Egypt sent to King Faruq in 1947,
Hasan al-Banna included among the planks of his program "Consideration of ways to arrive
gradually at a uniform mode of dress for the nation". Hasan al-Banna', Five Tracts of Hasan alBanna' (1906 1949): A Selection from the Majmu'at Rasa'il al-Imam al-Shahid Hasan alBanna', trans. Charles Wendell (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London, 1978), p. 129.

14. An important work in this genre is Abu Bakr Muhammad Ibn al-'Arabi al-Ma'afiri
(d.1149), Qanun al-Ta'wil (The Rules of Hermeneutics), ed. Muhammad al-Slimani (Beirut,
1990). This jurist from Seville in Muslim Spain was not related to the Sufi Ibn 'Arabi.
15. Sherman A. Jackson, On the Boundaries of Theological Tolerance in Islam: Ab Hamid alGhazali's Faysal al-Tafriqa bayna al-Islam wa al-Zandaqa (Oxford and Karachi, 2002). I have
altered Jackson's translation of terms slightly to fit the present discussion. Ghazali's full
discussion of the terms mentioned above can be found on pp. 94 100.
16. Ibid., p. 50.
17. Ibid., p. 104.
18. Ibid.
19. See Knysh, Ibn 'Arabi in the Later Islamic Tradition, for a full account of these objections.
20. 'Abd al-Karim al-Jili, al-Insan al-kamil fi ma'rifat al-awakhir wa al-awa'il (Cairo, 1981), vol.
2, p. 122.
21. Ibid., pp. 122 4.
22. Martin Lings, "With All Thy Mind", unpublished paper disseminated at the second "Building
Bridges" seminar hosted by His Highness the Emir of the State of Qatar and Archbishop of
Canterbury Rowan Williams, Doha, Qatar, 7 9 April 2003.
23. William C. Chittick calls this the "engendering command", because it results from the
manifestation of the divine name al-Rahman (The Engendering). The source for this concept is
Ibn 'Arabi's al-Futuhat al-Makkiyyah (The Meccan Revelations). See William C.
Chittick, Imaginal Worlds: Ibn al-'Arabi and the Problem of Religious Diversity (Albany, NY,
1994), p. 142. It may also be translated as the "formative command", because the Arabic
term, takwin, carries the connotation of formation or development.
24. John Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Cambridge, MA, 1999 revised edn), pp. 10 19.
25. This could be used as a metaphorical interpretation of Qur'an, 7: 46, "And on the Heights
are men who know all of them by their signs."26. Rawls, Theory of Justice, p. 117.
27. In Fusus al-hikam (The Ring-Settings of Wisdom) Ibn 'Arabi calls this type of mercy the
"Mercy of the Gratuitous Gift" (rahmat al-imtinan). It is a mercy which God bestows on things
simply because they exist. For Ibn 'Arabi, all existence is ultimately good, since it comes from
God. Evil is nonexistence ('adam). See Toshihiko Izutsu, Sufism and Taoism: A Comparative
Study of Key Philosophical Concepts (Berkeley and London, 1983), p. 121.
28. Chittick calls this the "prescriptive command". See Idem, Imaginal Worlds, p. 142.
29. This is not to say that Muslim jurists did not discuss such questions. However, those who
did so most successfully, such as Ghazali and Ibn Rushd (d.1198), combined their juridical
backgrounds with studies of Sufism or philosophy.

30. Alasdair MacIntyre, Whose Justice, Which Rationality? (Notre Dame, IN, 1988). See
especially the chapter entitled, "Aristotle on Justice", pp. 103 23. In Aristotle, justice is based
on ratios, and not on equivalences. These ratios govern the principle of fairness in distributive
justice and retributive justice (or "justice as rectification"). See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics,
trans. Martin Oswald (Indianapolis, 1981 reprint of 1962 first edn), Book V, pp. 111 30.
31. Rawls, Theory of Justice, p. 301.
32. Ibid., p. 302. The fact that the Arabic term, 'adl, connotes justice, fairness, and equity
eliminates Rawls' problem of having to draw a lexical distinction between justice and fairness.
In Islam (as in Aristotle), one cannot say that justice is qualitatively different from fairness,
because they are essentially the same thing.
33. Izutsu, Sufism and Taoism, pp. 121 2.
34. This passage could also be translated as: "Your Lord has written mercy upon His own
Spirit".35. Izutsu, Sufism and Taoism, p. 122. This discussion is found in Fusus al-Hikam.
36. Chittick, Imaginal Worlds, p. 152. This passage is from Futuhat (IV 62.23).
37. Ibid., p. 163. The passage comes from Futuhat (IV 421.34).
38. Mohammad Hashim Kamali, Principles of Islamic Jurisprudence (Cambridge, 1991), pp.
139 48.
39. Sayyid Qutb, Fi zilal al-Qur'an (In the Shade of the Qur'an) (Beirut and Cairo, 1980), pp.
1220 50. A less severe perspective can be found in Abdur Rahman I. Doi, Non-Muslims under
Shari'ah (Islamic Law) (Lahore, 1981).
40. This subject is discussed in detail in A. Kevin Reinhardt, Before Revelation: the Boundaries
of Muslim Moral Thought (Albany, NY, 1995).
41. Abu al-'Abbas Ahmad Zarruq, Qawa'id al-Tasawwuf (Principles of Sufism), ed. Muhammad
Zuhri al-Najjar and 'Ali Ma'bid Farghali (Beirut, 1992), p. 8.

Opening the Heart

Ibn Arabi on Suffering, Compassion and Atonement
by James Winston Morris
In the Name of God, the All-Compassionate, the All-Merciful
Did We not open up for you your chest, [1]
and lift off from you your burden
which weighed down your back,
and raise up for you your Remembrance?

For surely with difficulty is ease;

surely with difficulty is ease.
So when you have finished, exert yourself to the utmost,
and strive (only) to please your Lord. (Sura 94)
Sometimes Ibn Arabi's Meccan Openings despite their well-deserved reputation for difficulty
offer amazingly direct and illuminating insights into life's most basic lessons. Certainly this is
the case with his discussions of the central role of earthly suffering in every person's spiritual
growth, and with his clarification of the complex role of suffering in the nexus connecting our
(mis)deeds, their painful (but potentially liberating) consequences, and their ultimate fruits of
illumination, compassion and spiritual growth and perfection. However, his primary purpose is
clearly not to construct or argue for some abstract theodicy or philosophical doctrine. So the
following case-study of his progressive treatment of the sadr (literally 'chest,' but in almost all
contexts more meaningfully translated by the English word 'heart') in the long opening section
of the Futht [2] beautifully illustrates the way his teaching and language are always
carefully designed to evoke above all each reader's own indispensable personal experience and
illuminated understanding (tahqq) of the realities in question. As we shall see, his own
gradual 'unveiling' of all the dimensions of this reality closely mirrors the actual existential
process of spiritual testing, purification and inspiration which each reader and student can
alone bring to their study of this work.
Since this unique rhetorical and pedagogical method of the Futht can only really be
understood and appreciated through repeated practice and familiarity which means it is still
very difficult to approach using only translations, without ready access back to the original
Arabic this study also highlights the critical importance, when approaching any topic in Ibn
Arabi's writings, of carefully considering all the relevant, intentionally scattered passages both
holistically and in their particular context. Even with a reliable translation and contextual
presentation, newcomers to his work will inevitably tend to focus on either its scriptural or its
other intellectual elements, which are initially always more immediately visible than the
essential underlying dimension of individual realization to which they allude. Even his more
direct allusions to those key dimensions of spiritual realization whether experiences of
himself and his companions, or expressed through accounts of the Prophet, the 'Friends of
God' (awliy) and other spiritual figures must always be carefully situated in the intended
context of their particular stage and active role in the long process of each soul's purification
and perfection, since otherwise the possibilities of misunderstanding and inappropriate
application are legion. Finally, the further obstacles posed by inadequate translations and
presentations of any of his writings are painfully familiar to anyone who has struggled with
such works.
Sadr in the Quran: Divine and Human Roles
The Arabic term sadr, appearing some 44 times in the Quran, refers most literally to the
human chest, a meaning closely related to its etymological root of what is first, foremost or
uppermost; a beginning; or to proceed or emerge from something. But its figurative and
idiomatic meaning in religious contexts, as the seat of a wide range of familiar human feelings,
emotions and different kinds of awareness of divine activities and inspirations, is usually very
close to that of the English word 'heart' and to the even more frequent Quranic
expression qalb, [3] as well as several other less frequent Quranic expressions that could all

be translated likewise by 'heart' in many contexts. [4] The major difference from the qalb (the
latter usually referring to the inherent locus of our receptive human awareness of God and the
creative Spirit) is that the sadr, much like the bodily chest in relation to the bodily heart, also
refers to that which can either 'cover over,' hide, obscure and close off or else open up and
reveal the pure receptivity of theqalb. As such, it has a key role in both expressing and
accounting for all the dimensions of our apparent human opposition to God's will and of our
subjective sense of 'separation' from the divine, especially those aspects of experience often
rather negative or oppressive that we would express in everyday English usage by reference
to what goes on in our 'mind,' 'self,' imagination or even more unconscious levels of
subjectivity that may only be perceptible through our corresponding actions, tendencies and
attitudes.
The particular association of this term in the Quran with themes of suffering, testing,
compassion and the wider dynamics of spiritual growth which are most familiar and boldly
highlighted in the famous verses of Sura 94 alluding to Muhammad (in our epigraph above)
comes from the fact that it is almost always used in ways that refer to one of two contrasting
perspectives: either to our individual human responsibility for the painful, constrictive,
secretive, beclouded, oppositional and generally unpleasant aspects of the heart's experience.
Or else the same term is employed in references toGod's corresponding responsibility for
knowing, inspiring, purifying, releasing, healing, illuminating and opening up these same
hearts. Even at a purely textual level, of course, that initial dichotomy of reference is
immediately complicated by the many other Quranic passages strongly insisting on the divine
role in determining all our human actions and attitudes, including the negative and nonresponsive ones.
Since this broad underlying problematic is immediately echoed, for those familiar with the
Quran (including most of Ibn Arabi's original readers), at each use of the term sadr, it will be
helpful to recall briefly a few of the different interrelated dimensions of this 'heart' that are
repeatedly highlighted in the Quran. To begin with the more familiar human aspects of
the sadr developed in the Quran:
The most frequent mention of these 'hearts' (sudr) on the human side refers to what we
seek to hide within them a familiar activity of constant, almost unconscious lying
(particularly to ourselves) that involves the lower aspects of the self (nafs), imagination and
selective memory. Thus people are said to 'fold up' and 'hide' what is in their sudr, with their
hatred and malice being mentioned in particular: Yes, surely they fold up their hearts so that
they may try to hide (themselves) from Him... (11:5). But the hatred has appeared from their
mouths, and what is in their hearts is even greater...(3:118). Whether you hide what is in
your hearts or reveal it, God Knows it... (3:29).
The Quran frequently speaks of the resulting constriction or 'tightness' (dayyiq) and
'oppressive burden' (haraj) or 'blindness' (22:46) of our sudr, even (as in Sura 94) in
reference to Muhammad and other prophets: Perhaps you are setting aside what was revealed
to you, and your heart is oppressed because of [what your enemies say]... (11:12). See
similar references to Muhammad at 15:9, and to Moses (asking God for the assistance of
Aaron) at 36:13. Indeed some other people may even have their hearts subjectively lightened
by their opposition to God (kufr) (16:10).

 People imagine all sorts of things in their sudr: for example, ...be you stones or iron or
some creation even greater in your hearts (4:90); and you are more fearful in their hearts
than God... (59:13). Other recurrent imaginings obscuring the heart include 'dire need'
(59:9); and 'fear' (59:13).
Finally, one of the famous concluding protective verses of the Quran mentions the sadr as
the locus of all the insinuations and hidden promptings of Satan, who whispers secretly in the
hearts of the people (114:5).
While most of the Quranic references to God's activities in relation to the sudr are quite
positive, still verse 6:125 openly states in this regard what is often reiterated throughout the
Quran in emphasizing the divine responsibility, at some level, for all human actions
whatsoever, a perspective that is eventually at the heart of Ibn Arabi's metaphysical
perspectives here and most famously, throughout his later Fuss al-hikam. [5] So whoever
God wishes to guide rightly, he opens his heart to surrender-to-Peace (al-islm); and whoever
He wishes to lead astray, He constricts his heart...' (6:125).
By far the most frequent citation in this respect is the repeated Quranic emphasis on God's
direct knowing of all that is hidden in human hearts: So be aware of God: surely God is allKnowing of what is in the hearts (5:7). [6] Particularly important, given Ibn Arabi's
characteristic emphasis on the Quran's recurrent eschatological passages and imagery as
symbolizing the enlightened understanding of the true Knowers (uraf), is the insistence on
the unavoidable revelation to each soul itself (as to God) of what was once 'hidden' in our
hearts, in the eschatological context of those hoping to hide their wrongdoing (at the Last
Day): Doesn't he know that when what is in the graves is brought out, and what is in the
hearts is (manifestly) realized, surely on that Day their Lord will be most aware of
them? (100:911).
Verses describing God's (this-worldly) opening and 'release' of the sudr, [7] whether in the
famous Sura 94 of our epigraph above or in Moses' requesting: O my Lord, open up for me my
heart! (20:25).
Two key verses emphasize God's salvific role in the spiritual healing (shif) of
our sudr: God heals the hearts of a people who have faith (9:14); and O you people, there
has already come to you a lesson from your Lord, a healing for that which is in the
hearts (10:57).
As a particular example of such divine healing particularly telling in light of what the Quran
and hadith alike have to say about hateful anger (ghadab) as 'the touch of Satan' two other
verses emphasize how God can remove even deeply rooted rancor and malice (ghill) from
the sudr. Both verses refer specifically to the high spiritual state of the blessed in the divine
'Gardens': And We have removed from their hearts whatever hatred was there (7:43); and we
have removed from their hearts whatever hatred was in them (15:47).
Another verse often alluded to by Ibn Arabi speaks of God's 'Clear Signs' (yt) as directly
inspired in the sudr: It (the revelation) is clear Signs in the hearts of those who have been
given (divine) knowing... (29:49).

 Many verses of the Quran specifically focus on the perverse human propensity to many
different forms of resistance and disobedience toward what we in some deeper way already
'know' to be right. [8] The opposite of that inveterate, sometimes puzzling opposition of our
hearts is 'surrender to (divine) Peace' (islm), and several verses specifically emphasize the
divine role in that decisive spiritual transformation: God opens up hearts to surrender-toPeace (6:125); and So whoever God wishes to guide rightly, He opens his heart to surrenderto-Peace (39:22). In particular, the same verse emphasizes that this process involves the
divine illumination of the 'opened' hearts: So is the one whose heart God has opened to
surrender-to-Peace, such that he is upon a Light from his Lord (like the state of the
unenlightened)? (39:22).
Finally, we come to the very heart of Ibn Arabi's own reflections on these many dimensions
of the heart, throughout these foundational chapters (173) of his Meccan Openings: ...so
that God may test what is in the hearts of you all (3:154). [9]
The Heart's Knowing (vs. discursive thinking) [10]
The first place we encounter a mention of the heart (i.e. the sadr) in the Futht is in Ibn
Arabi's fundamental discussion which we have translated more fully in an earlier
study [11] of the varied types and ways of human 'knowing' that underpin the different
levels of discourse interwoven throughout the rest of this immense work. Here he introduces
the fundamental distinction between the abstract, highly fallible and unreliable 'knowing' of the
discursive intellect, and the inspired inner awareness of the 'knowledge of states' ('ilm alahwl, or marifa), which is acquired through a divine inspiration (ilhm) that is immediately
recognized as such by the receptive heart (sadr):
Then you must know that if this (inspired 'unveiling' or 'knowing of states') seems good and
beautiful to you and you accept and have faith in it then rejoice in that good news! For you
are necessarily experiencing an 'unveiling' of that, even if you aren't aware of that, because
there is no other way to that, since the heart (sadr) is only delighted and pleased by that
whose (spiritual) soundness it is absolutely sure of. While discursive thinking has no footing
here, because this is not in its domain of perception.
As we shall see, Ibn Arabi returns to develop and amplify this practically crucial opening
distinction in several passages below.
The Journeying that Opens the Heart [12]
Early in the first chapter of the Futht, at the beginning of Ibn Arabi's famous account of his
encounter at the Kaaba with the mysterious young spiritual 'alter ego' (fat) or angelic
messenger who revealed to him everything in that immense work, that fat again invokes in
contrast with the divinely inspired knowing of the heart the profound illusions of those 'poor
souls' (miskn) who rely solely on the conclusions of their discursive thinking, imagining that it
is leading them somewhere:
The poor fellow imagines he is knocking and opening (the 'door' of spiritual illumination),
saying: 'Can there be, in face of this constriction and heavy burden (that I still feel now)
anything but expansion and opening (of my heart)? But compare that to the Quran on those
who are disputing (without real knowing or faith): So whosoever God wills to Guide, He opens

up their heart to the surrender-to-Peace. But whosoever He wills to lead astray, He makes
their heart constricted and weighted down, as if they were climbing up into the sky! (6:125).
For just as the 'opening' (of the heart) only comes after the constriction, so likewise That
which is sought is not attained until after traveling the (spiritual) path. And that poor fellow
was heedless of his own acquiring of what he had attained through inspiration (ilhm), among
those things that the people of mind and intellect (falsely assume) is only acquired by means
of thinking and proofs.
Ibn Arabi's reply to his divine guide here, rather than simply echoing that figure's criticisms of
the limitations of our discursive intellect, provides another fascinating and as we shall see,
highly significant acknowledgement of the essential interplay of all our human capacities,
including extensive learning experiences, deep reflection (tafakkur), and inspiration, in the
larger course of each person's gradual spiritual growth and their uniquely individual path of
perfection. He begins by acknowledging this mysterious youth's observation that those who
rely exclusively on their intellect:
will be grieved and saddened, when they arrive back at the point from which they departed.
But [Ibn Arabi adds] they will rejoice in what they have acquired of the secret mysteries
in the course of their path, and to which they have returned! For if the Messenger had not
been called to the Ascension, he would not have climbed up to the heavens, nor would he have
come back down and this journeying brought to him the presence of the Angelic Host and
the Signs of His Lord.
These few carefully chosen words at the very beginning and first 'doorway' (bb) of these
immense Openings pointedly highlight one of the most distinctive features and orienting aims
of all of Ibn Arabi's work: that is, his preoccupation with making clear the full universality and
inclusiveness of the complex processes of spiritual development, learning and illumination that
unfold with miraculous detail and exactitude in every domain and level of creation. That
essential quality of the Shaykh's speech is aptly acknowledged in this divine youth's own
immediate reaction:
So when I brought up this knowing, which cannot be reached by the intellect alone or fully
actualized and perfected by understanding (alone), (this 'young man') replied: 'You have made
me hear an extraordinary secret, and you have unveiled for me a fascinating reality, which I
did not hear from any Wal [Friend, one close to God] before you! Nor have I ever seen anyone
for whom these realities were perfected and completed as they have been for you. Even
though they are known to Me and inscribed in My Essence, as I shall make clear to you
through the raising of My veils and inform you about through My spiritual indications
(ishrt).'
The Opened Heart and the Letter Sd [13]
The next mention of the opening of the heart comes in chapter 2 (Ibn Arabi's elaborate
introduction to the spiritual significance of the Arabic letters of the Quran and their cosmogonic
roles), in the course of a long poem whose Speaker is at once God [14] and the Arabic
letter Sd the letter whose graphic written form [ ]significantly combines twinned visible
representations of both the 'whole' (closed, on the right side) and the 'half-opened' fully

receptive human heart (on the left side of the letter). The immediate visual symbolism of this
letter also foreshadows Ibn Arabi's later discussion of the 'eternal prostration' (sujd) of the
heart, [15] as this letter's written image also suggests that of a person viewed from the side,
facing to the left, bowing down in the prostration stage of the ritual prayer. The poetic speech
of this divine letter could readily serve as the epigraph foreshadowing the rest of this long
investigation:
Whatever depth there may be in the sea,
the shore of the Heart is deeper!
And if your Heart should be constricted from (knowing) Me,
then the Heart of someone other than you is even tighter.
Forget the ego-self (nafs) and accept
from a truthful One who speaks truthfully.
And don't oppose/diverge (from Me), lest you be pained:
for the Heart is suspended from Me.
Open It, and I will release it [iftahu, ashrahu], and do
that activity you've already realized!
Until when, O you of the hardened heart,
(will you keep) that heart of yours locked up?!
The Divine 'Breaths' and the Receptive Heart [16]
The opening poem that begins the particularly rich and rewarding chapter 35 of the Futht,
'On the true inner knowing of that person who has actually realized [tahaqqaqa: i.e.
experienced and fully understood] the waystation of the divine Breaths and its secret
meanings after death,' [17] is the first of a number of short scattered passages where Ibn
Arabi begins to evoke more explicitly the distinctive experiential qualities of the opened or
liberated heart (sadr mashrh). It is no coincidence that this first stage in that depiction again
focuses on the opened heart's essential receptivity to whatever is brought at each instant by
the ever-renewed divine 'Breaths':
The (true) servant is whoever in the state of life was with Him
like his state after the death of the body and the (animal) spirit.
And the servant is whoever, (even) in the state of being veiled from Him,
was a light, like the illumination of the earth by the sun.
For the state of death has no pretense [18] accompanying it
like life has such explicit and visible pretensions
with regard to certain people while for other people
its pretensions are (known) by hints and intimations.
So if you've understood what we were telling you, you'll uphold in life

a Balance that is above both excess and deficiency,

and you'll be among those who are purified by His realities,
leaving no way for censure or reproach.
But if you pay no attention to what we've said, you'll come
to the realm of (God's) Questioning with a heart still unopened!
It is surely worth noting that Ibn Arabi actually opens this key chapter devoted to all those
forms of divine inspiration (ilhm) and guidance that are the subject of virtually all of the
remaining Futht evoking here all that is brought to the opened heart by the ever-renewed
divine Breaths by insisting on the absolute consonance between those endlessly varied
illuminations and the original scriptural formulae of innocent, unreflective 'faith' (mn) in the
prophetic revelations: that is to say, of pure faith uncontaminated by the distortions of
subsequent reflection and borrowed or interpolated interpretations and explanations:
You must know! o my brother that the knowing of the people of God [i.e. the people of
'opened hearts'], taken from spiritual experience/unveiling (kashf) completely corresponds to
the form of innocent faith (mn). For everything which faith accepts corresponds to the
unveiling of the people of God, since it is all reality/Truth (haqq), since the one who reports
(the divine revelation), who is the Prophet, is reporting (what he knows directly) on the basis
of a sound unveiling. And the essences of those who know God through God [19] have the
attributes of every thing whose knowing they also take from God, whatever that may be.
Here again, as we find again and again throughout the Futht, Ibn Arabi quickly returns to
amplify and develop these initial remarks in ways which make it much clearer
that every human being including those who may think they are relying only on their
intellects in fact is experiencing and then following instants of spiritual 'unveiling' in certain
moments and situations of their lives:
Now we have just indicated for you a matter of immense significance, so that you might know
what the knowledge of those relying on their intellects goes back to, and where their thoughts
come from. [I.e. that their sound ideas, thoughts, and intuitions are also in reality the heart's
divine inspirations.] This is so that it might become clear to you that sound knowledge is not
(ultimately) given by thinking, nor by those thoughts that the intellectuals have affirmed and
that (in the words of a famous hadith): sound knowing is only '(a light) that God casts in the
heart' of the knower. And it is a divine light by which God specially distinguishes whoever He
wishes among His servants (whether they be) angel, messenger, prophet, friend (of
God: wal) or the person of faith.
So whoever has no unveiling (through what the divine 'Breaths' bring to fill the opened heart)
has no real knowing!
The Healer of Hearts [20]
One of the most characteristic unifying dimensions of the Futht is the way that Ibn Arabi
constantly moves back and forth, within every chapter, between a focus on the particular
perspectives and concerns of ordinary spiritual seekers, and scattered corresponding
reminders of the salvific perspective and roles of the awliy Allh, of the immense pleroma of

spiritual instruments and personalities who, both from this world [21] and from beyond, play
their indispensable roles at every stage of each individual's ongoing drama of spiritual growth,
development and gradual transformation. Thus it should come as no surprise that the
Shaykh's first explicit allusion to God's activity as the 'Healer of hearts' (9:14; 10:57), in the
opening poem of chapter 36, pointedly directs our attention toward all those who fulfill and
manifest this divine Intention:
Everyone who brings life to his reality
and heals (the heart) from the sickness of the veils:
That one is Jesus for us,
there cannot be any doubt about that!
... So His spiritual intention (himma) flows secretly throughout the world,
among the Arabs and everyone else:
Through it their souls are brought to life,
and through it the misfortunes are taken away.
As we shall see, perhaps the most significant phrase here, in terms of Ibn Arabi's later
development of the theme of the 'opening heart,' is his prefiguration of the ultimate divine
mystery: that secret, 'hidden flowing' (sar, from the same root as isr) of God's transforming
Lovingmercy and Compassion the cosmic creative Breath of the All-Compassionate that
can only be grasped through the necessarily painful human dramas that eventually make
possible the 'opening' of each constricted and overburdened heart.
'Compulsion' Necessarily Preceding the Heart's Opening [22]
The following discussion comes from Ibn Arabi's chapter built around the Prophet's famous
intimation at what was certainly outwardly the most devastating and hopeless moment of his
entire calling, when he had lost his wife and the uncle who was his strongest political support
in Mecca that 'I am surely finding/experiencing the Breath of the All-Merciful....': a decisive
subtle experience of illuminating grace that closely preceded the providential arrival of his first
tiny band of future supporters (ansr) from the distant oasis settlement of Yathrib. What Ibn
Arabi says in this short section, for each reader, necessarily requires a lifetime's experience of
'translation' into those particular corresponding realities and transforming moments of Grace
that are needed to bring this intensely compressed metaphysical summary to life:
Now you must know that the people embodying this spiritual station are all those, among the
people of God, whose state was that of those who were (first) engulfed and surrounded by the
Names of divine Domination and Compulsion, [23] throughout the entirety of His world, from
its loftiest to its lowest (realms). So that they are turning to (the most intense and sincere)
beseeching and yearning for the Names of divine Lovingmercy and Compassion. Then the
Name 'The All-Compassionate' (al-rahmn)... reveals itself to them and the divine
Determination freely bestows the gift of that (divine Lovingmercy) upon them.
In this way, the effects of all the Names of (divine) Compulsion are erased from them, so that
the place (of their heart) is expanded to (receive the breaths of the All-Compassionate). Thus

their heart is opened up, the divine Breath circulates (through it), and the Spirit of Life travels
secretly through it.
It is typical of Ibn Arabi's approach that he immediately follows his intensely compressed
evocation of this culminating spiritual illumination with an equally vivid warning about the alltoo-familiar practical dangers of 'pretense' and self-delusion in this spiritual domain:
So whoever has this spiritual state and really knows it by direct experience ('tasting') within
their self is among the adepts of this spiritual station.
But don't delude yourself! For every human being knows his or her own inner state, and it is of
no use to you at all to present yourself to the people as having a spiritual level that you don't
actually possess. So now I have given you this cautionary advice and explained this to you
according to the path of the 'Folk (of God)'. [24] So don't be among the ignorant ones (15:99)
regarding what we have informed you about regarding this! And worship-and-serve your Lord
until there comes to you the Certainty (of this opening of the Heart) (3:5).
'Karmic' Dimensions of the Heart's Suffering and Atonement
Significantly enough, Ibn Arabi's first discussion of the opening of the heart in his immense
chapter 69 ('on our inner knowing of the secret mysteries of the ritual prayer') comes up in
connection with the repeated invocation of the divine Names 'The All-Compassionate, the AllMerciful' (ar-Rahmn ar-Rahm), during the recitation of the Ftiha (the opening Sura that
recurs throughout each cycle of the daily ritual prayers). [25] What is striking here is the
Shaykh's first pointed reminder that most of the people reciting these formulae have only an
illusory and dangerously deficient notion of the actual divine realities (and their
manifestations) underlying those central divine Names a point that he develops at much
greater length only a few lines later in this same chapter (in the following long citation here).
Ibn Arabi is elaborating here a well-known 'divine saying' in which God replies to the servant's
recitation of these particular Names in prayer with the phrase: 'My servant was praising Me!'
But, the Shaykh immediately adds:
He didn't say just what it was that the servant was praising Him for! And this is because the
ordinary person only recognizes as divine 'Compassion' for him whatever happens to match up
to his (immediate egoistic) aims (of his carnal nafs) even if that (supposed act of Mercy)
actually harms him, or doesn't correspond to his (true) nature, or even if it contains (the
seeds of) his tormenting punishment! [26]
But the true spiritual Knower (rif) is not like that. For surely the divine Compassion and
Lovingmercy may come to the servant in an abhorrent form, such as the (necessity) for the
sick person of drinking or eating disgusting or foul-smelling medicine. But the healing in that is
hidden.
The broader cosmic and human significance of this observation for the opening of the heart is
soon carefully outlined, a short while later, [27] in the course of Ibn Arabi's explanation of the
deeper experiential meanings, for the true Knower, of the same long divine Saying (hadth
quds) describing how God participates in and responds secretly to each stage of the servant's
recitation of the Ftiha. Here he begins by asking 'What is really intended' by the verse

(1:4) Ruler of the Day of Judgment (mlik yawm al-dn)? And why is that verse of Judgment
immediately preceded by the repeated evocation (1:1 and 1:3) of God as 'the AllCompassionate, the All-Merciful (al-rahmn ar-rahm)'? Ordinarily, of course, most people tend
to project this reality of God's ultimate Right Judgment (dn) and infinite Compassion into an
imagined, distant eschatological future. The heart of Ibn Arabi's teaching on this question is
condensed in the following passages, which deserve the closest possible attention and
reflection on their manifestations in every area of our daily life:
But whenever the Knower says 'Ruler of the Day of Right-Judgment,' he does not restrict that
'Day of Right-Judgment' to the other life (al-khira). For he sees that the All-Merciful and the
All-Compassionate are not separated from the Ruler of the Day of Judgment, since that 'Day'
(of each soul's eschatological Return) is only an attribute of both of those (intrinsically divine
Realities). For the Recompense [28] (of divine Judgment) is in both this lower life (duny) and
the other.
And that is why He manifested what He prescribed regarding the upholding of the divine
sanctions (against wrongdoing): to make manifest the corruption on the dry land and the sea,
through what the hands (= actions) of people acquire (i.e. bring upon themselves) so that
He might cause them to taste some of what they have done, in order that they might
return! (30:41). For this (wider karmic process flowing from the proportionate consequences
of all our deeds) is itself the essential reality (ayn) of the Recompense! So the Day of this
lower life is also a Day of Recompense, and (for the Knower) God is (truly and visibly)
the Ruler of the Day of Right-Judgment.
Hence the true Knower sees that the atonements/reparations/expiations [29] are
secretly flowing [30] throughout this lower world. So the fully human being (insn), in
the abode of this lower life, is not exempt from that which [31] constricts his heart (sadr) and
causes him pain, [32] both of the senses and of the intelligence/spirit (aql) not even (from
such apparently trivial things as) the bite of a flea or stumbling and tripping.
But those pains are bounded and limited in time, while God's Lovingmercy may He be
exalted! is not limited in time. For His Lovingmercy encompasses every thing (58:26). So
some of That (divine Love and Compassion) is attained and manifested by way of His freely
bestowed Grace (imtinn), in which the source of (our) partaking in that (infinite Lovingmercy)
is His pure Grace (not anything 'merited' or deserved). While some of that (manifest
Lovingmercy) occurs by way of divine Self-obligation, (as) in His saying: 'Your Lordly
Sustainer (rabb) has written (ordained) upon Himself Lovingmercy' (6:54); and in His saying
(to Moses and his seventy companions): 'Then I shall write/ordain It...' (7:156).
So the (ordinary) people are taking (all their experiences they attribute to that divine rahma)
as a strict recompense, while (in fact) it comes upon some of the responsible (mukallaf)
creatures (simply) through (God's) freely bestowed Grace, however (undeserving) they may
be. So understand this!
Therefore every pain in this life and the other life is an expiation/atonement for
certain restricted, time-limited things (inner or outer 'actions') that have already
happened. And that (resulting pain) is a recompense for whoever is pained by it, whether
they are young or old on the condition that they strive to understand [33] (the

expiating meaning/purpose/context of) that pain, not by means of simply feeling that
pain without actually understanding it! For no one really grasps/perceives this particular
perception except for the person to whom that (inner purpose) is unveiled.
In the remainder of this fundamental passage, it rapidly becomes clear that Ibn Arabi is
actually referring more pointedly to the successive stages and unfolding of every individual
human being's relative spiritual 'infancy' and gradual spiritual maturation.
Hence the (sick) infant doesn't really understand (the deeper meaning) of its pain, although it
does feel it. Except that the infant's father and mother, and others like them, whether they
love the infant or not, are themselves pained and seek to understand that pain, because of the
ills [34] which they see besetting that infant. So that pain itself becomes an
expiation/atonement, for those who do understand that pain.
Therefore when the person who does understand (the meaning and purpose of) that
(suffering) increases their loving-compassion (tarahhum) for the person who is in pain, then
the one who (understands and empathizes) becomes rewarded [35] through their own
expiation/atonement. This is because (as the Arabic proverb puts it): 'Every moist
heart [36] is a (divine) reward.' Indeed every heart is moist, because it is the home of our
blood; and blood is warm and moist, the natural principle of Life.
Now as for the (spiritual) 'youth': if they seek to understand (the spiritual cause of) their being
pained, and seek to turn away from and strictly avoid the immediate causes that necessitated
that pain, then that person will have an atonement/expiation, through that act (of
transforming understanding and repentance), for their own previous actions which gave
rise to pain in others whether that other be an animal or another individual of their
own species. And whether that (pain) be (caused by) their refusing something their mother
or father had asked them to do; or whether it be due to their refusing to do something
someone else asked of them, [37] so that the person who asked them is pained because that
young person failed to fulfill their request. [38]
So (in that latter case), if that young person is feeling pain, that pain appears in them as an
atonement corresponding to the pain which they caused to that person who had once
requested (something from them), by refusing to fulfill what that person had implored of
them. Or that young person (being pained) may have harmed another animal, such as
throwing rocks at a dog, or killing a flea or a louse, or stepping on an ant and killing it, or
whatever else they may have done, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
For the secret/mystery (sirr) of this matter is strange and marvelous (ajb), flowing
secretly through (all) the existent things so much so that the human being may be
pained and their heart (sadr) constricted by the very existence of clouds! [39]
So (that pain of every state of the heart's constriction is) an atonement for things
one has done, whether one has forgotten them or actually knows what they are.
All of this is directly seen by the people of unveiling, as the (ongoing, universally present)
verification/realization (tahqq) of His saying (1:4):Ruler of the Day of Right-Judgment.

The Perpetual 'Prostration of the Heart' of the Perfected awliy

The final discussion of the opening of the heart in the long chapter on our inner knowing of the
spiritual mysteries of the ritual prayer [40] refers specifically to the heart's extraordinary
opening in the very highest of the Friends of God (the awliy Allh), a state which might seem
impossibly distant from our own daily struggles and moments of realization. But Ibn Arabi's
careful discussion in this section of the different interactions between the heart, the ego-self
(nafs), and the satanic promptings of the carnal nafs [41] helps us to recognize and discover
as well those actions and inner tendencies most often deeply unconscious that can
contribute to the closing and constriction of the heart.
The standard legal topic that serves as the initial occasion for this spiritual lesson is the
question whether one is obligated to perform an act of ritual prayer and prostration (and in
what direction) every time one might hear the Quran being recited. Ibn Arabi's tentative
practical response to that purely external legal question is 'no.' But with characteristic
directness, he immediately and sharply contrasts that external judgment to the fully obligatory
and ongoing 'prostration of the heart' and especially to the station of the most open-hearted
of the divine Friends, whose hearts are perpetually in prostration, [42] since they are always
fully aware of, and necessarily responding to, the divine Presence ('Book', Quran, etc.) as
encountered in every aspect of life and creation:
Now the deeper spiritual lesson (itibr) contained in this topic is that prostration is obligatory
for the heart. For once the heart has prostrated itself (i.e. fully opened to God), it will never
ever rise up (in pride and self-obsession), unlike the prostration of our face (in the ritual
prayer).
Once it happened that (the famous early Sufi teacher) Sahl al-Tustari, at the very beginning of
his entrance into this Path, saw that his heart had prostrated itself. He expected it to rise up
again, but it didn't rise, so he began to be confused and concerned. Then he continued to ask
all the masters of the Path about his spiritual experience, but he didn't find anyone who really
understood his experience.
... Then someone told him that there was a respected shaykh in Abadan, and that he might
find what he was looking for by asking him about this. So he traveled to Abadan because of
this experience, and when he entered and greeted that shaykh, he said to him: 'O dear
master, does the heart prostrate itself?' And the shaykh said to him: 'Until eternity!' Thus he
found the cure (for his question), and he remained there serving that teacher.
Now the very axis and center-point of this Path turns on this prostration of the
heart. So whenever a realized human being attains to the direct eyewitnessing of
this, that person has reached (spiritual) perfection and likewise with their spiritual
understanding/awareness (marifa) and protection (from sinning), so that the devil no longer
has any way to (influence) them.
To summarize, Ibn Arabi continues by distinguishing the partially 'protected' state of these
fully realized saints who still continue to perceive the temptations and inclinations of their
carnal nafs/shaytn from the specially complete spiritual 'immunity' unique to the prophets
and rare divine messengers, whose 'satan' (in the words of the famous Prophetic hadith that

Ibn Arabi quotes here) [43] has become so fully surrendered to God that they do not even
perceive its distracting promptings.
For the wal is protected from whatever that satan desires of him, when he casts into the heart
of the wal whatever (prompting) God may wish of him. [44] So the wal turns around away
from it/him, by turning toward that aspect that pleases God. Thus he attains through that
(regular overcoming of temptation) a spiritual station with God that is absolutely prodigious!
Indeed were Iblis (the archetypal tempter) not so enthusiastic and determined to bring about
disobedience (to God) [hence immediately rushing off to work on another victim] that he
doesn't return to that wal a second time, then he would notice that what he was bringing
the wal, in order to distance him from God, was actually increasing him in blessedness and
proximity to God.
Ibn Arabi goes on to explain that a few of the trickiest and slyest devils do manage to
influence some of the saints though not those of the highest order, to whom he turns in just
a moment by 'encouraging them to do acts of obedience that keep them from performing
even higher acts of obedience.'
But if the wal is upon clear guidance from his Lord [45] regarding that, then he (knows and)
does what is preferable. However, the devil is unable to penetrate/deflect the wal's knowing of
the divine Self-manifestation in any way at all....
This situation is contrary (Ibn Arabi continues) to the case of those whose (supposed)
knowledge of God comes from intellectual thought and reasoning. Because the satan casts into
such a person's heart doubts regarding his arguments, in order to confuse him and send him
back to the first instance of his thinking, so that he will die in ignorance of his Lord....
All of this does not apply to any one of God's Friends (awliy) except for those whose heart
prostrates itself before God. For the satan only withdraws from the human being who is in a
state of prostration both outwardly and inwardly. So if the heart of the wal isn't bowing down,
then he isn't divinely protected.
Now this is an extremely subtle topic in the Path of the people of God, and it only happens to
rare individuals (afrd) whose being He specially strengthens. They are the ones who are
(truly) upon a clear guidance from their Lord [and a witness from Him follows it] (11:17),
(following) His Self-manifestation (tajalli) to them. So what follows that clear guidance for the
justly balanced servant, is a (divine) witness(shhid) which is precisely the prostration of
their heart....
Finding the 'Key' to the Heart: the universality of Lovingmercy [46]
Ibn Arabi begins this section in his lengthy chapter 72, 'on true understanding of the inner
mysteries of the Hajj,' by contrasting the famous hadith (or Sufi saying) that
'God's House/Temple (bayt Allh) is the heart of His servant, the person of faith' with the
many Quranic verses describing the divine Throne as 'the standing-place of the AllCompassionate' (mustaw al-Rahmn). [47] The poignant contrast of our very different
degrees of realized awareness of these two supposedly equivalent all-encompassing divine
Names (Allh and al-Rahmn) provides another occasion for highlighting the centrality of

suffering and the soul's ineluctable search for understanding of its causes as the
transformational 'key' to lastingly opening the divine House of the illumined heart:
For the difference in level between the heart and the (divine) Throne is like that between the
Name 'God' (Allh) and the Name 'the All-Compassionate.' For although (the Quran says):
[Say: 'Call upon God or call upon the All-Compassionate.] Whichever (Name) you all call upon,
His are the Most-Beautiful Names' (17:110), still no one denies (the reality of) God although
they do deny (the reality of) the All-Compassionate. Hence [whenever it is said to them 'bow
down to worship the All-Compassionate,'] they object: 'What is 'the All-Compassionate?'
(25:60).
So the (manifest universe as the) place of witnessing 'God-hood' (ulha) is (apparently at
first) more encompassing, because of everyone's affirming/observing that, since that place
includes both (painful) testing/hardship (bal) and well-being (fiyya): both of them are
found/existing in the world, so that no one denies either of them.
But the place of witnessing (all-encompassing divine) 'Compassion and Lovingmercy'
(rahmniyya) is only known by those who are the objects of that Lovingmercy
(marhm) through faith. And no one denies that but those who are excluded (mahrmn:
from faith) only without their being aware that they are excluded. This is because the
quality of Lovingmercy only contains well-being and absolute Good. But God is
truly/personally known through (directly experienced) 'states' (Allh marf bi-l-hl).
So the All-Compassionate is (likewise) denied because of a state (i.e. our lack of realized
awareness of the full extent of God's Compassion and Lovingmercy).
Therefore when it is said to them: '...whichever (Name) you all call upon, His are the MostBeautiful Names' (17:110), the people of testing/hardship [48] acknowledge that claim (only)
out of outward social conformity (taqld) to what God has described, from 'behind the veil'
(42:51) of their testing and hardship. [49]
So understand this! For I have pointed you toward matters which, if you practice and
follow them, then a divine knowing will become manifest to you which none but God
can measure. For surely the Knower (rif) who knows God to the extent that we have
mentioned, knowing Him through direct experience (dhawq), is rare and precious today!
The Heart of the Matter: 'Repentance' and Spiritual Discernment [50]
Tawba 'repentance' or literally 'turning around' (either toward God, or by God, in the Quran)
is the opening stage of the spiritual Path of realization in virtually every classical Sufi work.
This includes the widely read spiritual handbook of the Risla of al-Qushayri that Ibn Arabi
took as the starting point and overall framework for his metaphysical discussion of all the
spiritual virtues of the Path in the long second section of the Futht (chapters 74189):
the fasl al-mumalt. The title of this section is a technical term traditionally dealing primarily,
in the books of hadith and fiqh, with the proper 'social interrelations' between the human
servant and other creatures, a social perspective that is still fairly prominent even in
Qushayri's classic Sufi discussion of the succession of spiritual stations. But Ibn Arabi's
constant subject here is instead a very special sort of mumalt: it is entirely devoted like
much of the remainder of the Futht, in fact to the heart's interrelations with God, and

particularly highlights the ways those interactions, no matter where and how they outwardly
begin, always end up in a heightened realization and appreciation of the divine 'Presence' and
Reality (al-Haqq) revealed in each of those forms of encounter. It should be no surprise, then,
that the first words of this opening chapter and the fascinating section it inaugurates turn our
attention immediately to the fundamental practical underpinnings of every lasting opening of
the heart:
Itirf, for every realized seeker (muhaqqiq), is the (true) place of turning:
and through it the true God (al-ilh al-Haqq) opens up his heart.
God is pleased with the one who disagrees (with His command), just as
God is pleased with the one who agrees with His command.
How great it/He is, that His Aim is (always) attained
especially if you truly know His secret!
Through the reality of His Grace, the one who disagrees attains
what he attains: the one of whose rank you've been ignorant!
One could devote a long essay to exploring the meanings and contexts assumed in the first
line of this opening poem. Its key opening term, itirf, immediately recalls Ibn Arabi's pointed
emphasis, earlier in chapter 69, that the actual effective transformation of the heart's
struggling pain and suffering into wisdom and compassion depends essentially on seeking
and eventually finding inspired understanding (taaqqul) of the underlying opportunities and
the divine aims embodied in that particular transforming experience. Accordingly, itirf
ordinarily translated as acknowledgement, recognition or even confession is an intensive and
reflexive Arabic form of the same recurrent Arabic root (-r-f) that one constantly encounters
in almost every chapter title of the Futht, since each chapter is devoted to a distinctive form
of marifa, of immediate, personal knowing [51] and recognition. As such, it might be more
literally translated as 'intensive, unavoidable self-knowing' a qualification that immediately
distinguishes this profound spiritual state and transformed perspective from a great deal of
what is ordinarily imagined to be 'conversion' or 'repentance.' The deeper, metaphysical and
divine grounds of that S/self-knowing, which are already familiar to every serious student of
the Shaykh's thought, are carefully summarized in the next three paradoxical verses of this
opening poem. However, given the length of this chapter 74, which is entirely devoted to
unfolding the meanings of those poetic lines, the continuation of that discussion must await
another occasion.

Notes
[1]Or

'heart,' as we have usually translated the Arabic. sadr, for

reasons explained in the opening sections below. The Arabic
idiom 'opening up the chest,' as an expression for experiencing
great relief and solace, corresponds in part to such familiar
English idioms as 'getting a weight off one's chest,' 'lightheartedness,' and the like.

[2]The. Fasl al-Marif (on 'Forms of Spiritual Knowing/Awareness') include the first 73
chapters of the Futht. Like several earlier published essays, our study here carefully follows

Ibn Arabi's own development of a key theme throughout this long opening section (roughly
one-quarter of the entire book). All page and volume references below are to Osman Yahya's
critical edition (which includes the entire Fasl al-Marif), unless otherwise indicated. This is
the first of six expanded Ibn Arabi Society annual symposium lectures (Oxford, 2009) to be
included in the book Elevations: Insight and Realization in Ibn Arabi's 'Meccan
Illuminations' (forthcoming).[3]For the. qalb (used some 139 times in the Quran, see The
Reflective Heart (Fons Vitae, 2005), especially chapters 2 and 3. In many passages of the
Quran, sadr is used side-by-side and virtually synonymously with qalb within the same verse.
[4]These related terms often hierarchically differentiated in later Sufi commentaries on these
different aspects of the deepest human 'self' would include. sirr (3 times in the
Quran), fud (16 times), the Biblical cognate lubb (16 times) and dozens of occurrences of
the word nafs ('self' or 'soul').
[5]On a more practical spiritual level, his discussions of this topic in this study of
the. Futht below are closely tied to verse 3:154, mentioning God's 'testing' of human
hearts.
[6]See the same formulaic words at 3:119, 154; 11:5; 31:23; 35:38; 39:7; 42:24; 57:6;
64:4; 67:13; and closely similar expressions at 40:19; 3:29; 27:74; 28:69; 29:20..
[7]Although the usual meaning of this. sharh/inshirh ('opening up') of the chest refers
idiomatically to the resulting 'lightening' and relief of the heart, the actual Arabic words here
cannot help but evoke at the same time in a society daily familiar with the butchering of
animals the vividly bloody violence and inherent painfulness of the underlying physical or
surgical image.
[8]Some of the most frequent Quranic terms expressing this distinctively human opposition to
the divine Will and Peace (.salm) involve forms of the Arabic roots for 'denying' (ankara),
'ungratefully rejecting' or 'covering over' (kafara), 'scornfully refusing' (ab) or 'defiantly
disobeying' (as).
[9]This notion of divine 'testing' or 'trial' (.ibtil) is richly developed in multiple verses (38
times) which emphasize that this process extends to all of our experience, including
particularly life's many 'good/beautiful tests' (e.g., bal hasan, at Q.8:17) that seem
outwardly or initially painless and even pleasant.
[10]From Ibn Arabi's long opening 'Introduction' (.Muqaddima) to the Futht, O. Yahya
edition (hereafter cited as OY), vol. I, p.147.[11]'How to Study the. Futht: Ibn Arab's
Own Advice,' pp. 7389 in Muhyiddin Ibn Arab: A Commemorative Volume, ed. S. Hirtenstein
and M. Tiernan (Shaftesbury/ Rockport, 1993).[12]Translated sections below are from chapter
1 (OY I, 2212)[13]From chapter 2 (OY I,315).

[14]Among other things, the Arabic letters of revelation also correspond, in their cosmological
symbolic dimension, to the creative, theophanic role of the infinite divine 'Names' or
Attributes. Thus a few lines later (OY I, 315, lines 1415) the same speaking letter confirms
that:.

'I am Being in My Essence, and that being which is fully realized is Mine
without any restriction, since My Knowledge is, in reality, absolute!'
[15]See the translated selections below from chapter 69 on the ritual prayer: OY VII, 439
44..[16]Translated selections from chapter 35 (OY III, 333)..
[17]'Death' here refers of course to the key stages of each person's spiritual rebirth and
illumination, as in the many famous hadith ('Die before you die'; 'people are asleep, but when
they die they awaken'; and so on) which are understood in that sense throughout the Futht.
[18].Daw (and related forms of the same Arabic root), in the sense often criticized by Ibn
Arabi and throughout various writings of the entire Sufi tradition (e.g., in the ghazals of
Hafiz), has the particular meaning of our inwardly and automatically, most often unconsciously
'complaining,' criticizing and vehemently arguing (as a kind of 'litigant' in court) against God's
Will, together with the underlying psychological reality of pretentious 'self-divinization' (iddi)
that this deeply rooted perspective presupposes.
[19]Literally, 'those who know God or the Truly Real (.al-Haqq) in their perception of all of
creation with and through God': this is a common expression of Ibn Arabi for referring to
the highest level of the 'true Knowers' (uraf).[20]Chapter 36 (OY III, 356)..
[21]As in the poem opening the previous chapter, where the evocation of the personal state of
the true servant with an opened heart is immediately followed by their description as:.
'...whoever, (even) in the state of being veiled from Him,
was a light, like the illumination of the earth by the sun!'

[22]Chapter 49 (OY IV, 213

14)..[23].Jabart: while this Arabic root is usually understood (as translated here) in
reference to the dimensions of divine necessity, compulsion and domination, and even more
generally to what are normally identified as the Names of divine 'Majesty' (jall), contrasted
with the Names of Beauty (jaml), it is worth noting especially in the context of Ibn Arabi's
particularly comprehensive and wholistic perspective at this point that the same Arabic root
(j-b-r) has the meaning of healing, restoring to health, curing and setting a broken bone.
[24].Al-qawm: this is the mysterious, specially missioned group of the 'Friends of God'
(awliy), described at 5:54: those accomplished, divinely sent spiritual guides in every age
'whom (God) will bring' in these later times, of whom it is said 'He loves them, and they love
Him...'[25]Chapter 69 (OY VI, 284) for the following discussion..
[26].Shiq: an intentionally eschatological Quranic term, whose depths already in our thisworldly experience will become much clearer in the following translated section from the same
chapter.[27]Chapter 69 (OY VI, 2879)..[28]In the Quran, this same eschatological term
(.jaz) is carefully applied to all forms of the divine Recompense, for both good and bad
human actions.[29].Kaffrt: the root meaning of this term (cognate with the Hebrew) refers
to what is paid for the redemption and freeing of slaves or captives. From that it was then
extended to the legal notion (shared in other regional cultures) of paying for or otherwise
'redeeming' other religious obligations one is unable to fulfill, such as freeing a slave if one is
unable to complete the required fast of Ramadan. Or in the elaborate Quranic discussion (at

5:90), fulfilling one of a variety of options (feeding the poor, clothing them, fasting, or freeing
a slave) when one is unable to carry out an oath.
[30]Here Ibn Arabi applies to this cosmic karmic process of 'spiritual causality' and balance
the same root of 'journeying by night' or invisibly (.sar) that is traditionally applied (17:1) to
the Prophet's 'Night-Journey' (isr). (We have added the emphases in bold type here and in
the following section.)[31]Or: 'that divine Command (.amr) which...'[32].Alam here is a
specifically eschatological term from the Quran, referring to the 'Fires' experienced by souls
dwelling in jahannam.
[33]Ibn Arabi here employs the intensive self-reflexive form (.taaqqala) of the verb for the
quintessentially human activity of profoundly reflecting on the actual meaning and intent of
the divine 'signs' (yt) constituting our inner and outward experience a spiritual activity and
virtue which is passionately commanded (and whose frequent lack is even more vociferously
criticized) in almost fifty memorable Quranic verses.[34]Literally, 'diseases' (.amrd), a term
that Ibn Arabi commonly uses to refer to our spiritual illnesses: the context of this passage
strongly suggests that in reality the role of the divine Friends (awliy Allh) is comparable to
that of each person's true spiritual 'parents.'[35]Here Ibn Arabi uses the Quranic word for the
expanding consequences of a good deed (.ajr), not the earlier, more automatic (and equally
positive or negative) 'recompense' (jaz).[36]Or 'feeling of compassion and sympathy':
literally, 'every moist liver,' since the liver was usually understood as the seat of human
emotions in the traditional Galenic physiology of Ibn Arabi's time..
[37]Islamic ethics normally distinguishes between our duties toward God (.haqq Allh,
literally 'rights of God') and our duties toward all other creatures, including but not limited to
human beings (haqq al-ns). Although this passage ostensibly refers to the latter category,
the implicit symbolism (here of the soul's 'mother and father') can easily extend these
illustrations to apply to our duties toward God.[38]The particular language used here suggests
that the 'requesting' person is a poor and needy beggar. Much more importantly, the language
and universal situation described here is strongly reminiscent of the famous 'divine saying'
(echoing Matthew 24) that Ibn Arabi elsewhere calls the 'hadith of Gehenna': where God
confronts a confidently self-righteous soul at the Last Day and reproachfully reminds him that
'I was sick and you didn't visit Me; hungry and you didn't feed Me; thirsty, and you did not
give Me to drink...' and so on..
[39]Note the richness of this symbolic illustration, since 'clouds' in Ibn Arabi's own hot, largely
desertic context would suggest two immense. goods: both much-needed shade and all the
symbolism of the 'Water' of divine Compassion and Grace. In a number of other famous hadith
(see the translated selection of hadith on the 'vision of God' at the center of The Reflective
Heart), such 'clouds' actually symbolize all the distractions and attachments standing between
the divine 'sun' and its moon-like theophanies reflected in the unclouded human heart.
[40]Chapter 69 on the inner meanings/mysteries of ritual prayer (OY VII, 43944)..
[41]Symbolized in the figure of each soul's personal '.shaytn,' a familiar Quranic expression,
since shaytn (like 'devil' in English) is used there in the plural: as in '...satans among the
people and the jinn,' at 6:122.[42]See Ibn Arabi's corresponding intimation of the symbolic
image of this 'prostration of the heart' in the visual form of the Arabic letter. sd, in our
earlier short selection from chapter 2 above.[43].Aslama shaytn: 'My satan has surrendered
(to God).'[44]The unambiguous assertion here of the strict subordination of such satanic (or

'nafsic') promptings to God's Will strongly underlines their necessary and multiple roles in
human beings' spiritual education and growth..[45]Q.6:57; 11:17, 28, 63; 35:40; 47:14; this
expression is one of Ibn Arabi's favorite symbols for the special state of illumination and
divine proximity characterizing the Friends of God and the highest stations of spiritual
inspiration and guidance..[46]Chapter 72 (OY X, 63)..[47]See, for example, verses 7:54;
10:3; 13:2; 20:5; 25:59; 32:4; 57:4..
[48].Bal: as already noted, the Quran stresses that many of the situational 'tests' or
spiritual learning opportunities that together constitute our earthly life frequently seem to us
at least initially and superficially beautiful and good (bal hasan, at Q.8:17).
[49]For a fuller discussion of the different types of theophany and degrees of spiritual
perception and understanding c.onveyed by this complex verse, see Ibn Arabi's explanation
of its meanings in The Reflective Heart, chapter 4.
[50]Chapter 74 (OY XIII, 26999)..
[51]In

the sense of the famous corresponding hadith: 'Whoever truly knows (.arafa)
their self, knows their Lord.'

Some Notes on the Manuscript Veliyuddin 51

by Jane Clark and Denis McAuley
Veliyuddin 51, held in the Beyazit library in Istanbul, is an interesting manuscript for a number
of reasons. Firstly, it is a collection of unusual coherence, written in the mid-eighth century
(hijra) by a single scribe. It consists of 17 complete works by Ibn 'Arab and for all but two of
them specifies that they were taken from copies in his handwriting.[1] The original autographs
also seem to have formed a fairly coherent collection, written in AH 60102 in various
locations in the Middle East, from Malatya to Damascus, during Ibn 'Arab's first journey in the
eastern heartlands after his initial stay in Mecca.

Many of the works are found in other early collections and in some cases autograph copies
have also survived. But Veliyuddin 51 is the only surviving historic manuscript for two of them
(Ishrt al-Qur'n and R. al-Ma'lm), and thus authenticates them as Ibn 'Arab's work. It is
also the text with the best provenance in the case of another four (K. al-B', K. al-Nuqab', K.
al-Qasam al-ilh and K. al-H). The collection therefore has great importance in the ongoing
task of establishing the real corpus of Ibn 'Arab's work, as well as being a major source of
accurate texts from which to produce printed editions and translations.
Secondly, the collection gives valuable information about the way that the Akbarian tradition
developed in the centuries after Ibn 'Arab's death. The scribe gives his name as Ahmad b. M.
b. Muthabbit,[2] and a series of notes describes how he copied the texts between 761 and 763
in Jerusalem. At the end of K. al-Jalla there is a later note, dated 781, which indicates that he
read the text back to someone "the one who speaks it, the scholar" in the Al-Aqsa Mosque.
All this indicates that this is a study record written in Jerusalem within a community actively
teaching Ibn 'Arab's ideas.
Thirdly, several works carry notes about the writing of the text, giving the time and place of
composition, which do not appear in other copies. Our knowledge of Ibn 'Arab's life depends
upon analysis of such notes and records of readings (sam'), so Veliyuddin 51 has become a
very important source of biographical information. Osman Yahia, in his Histoire et
Classification de l'Oeuvre d'Ibn 'Arab,[3] gave dates of composition for several works based
upon his interpretation of its notes, and these were later used by Claude Addas[4] to establish
that Ibn 'Arab was in Jerusalem for extended periods during 601 and 602. However, we have
not been able to verify many of Osman Yahia's readings. In some cases we have come up with
a different time and date of composition, and in others Osman Yahia has given a time or date
where we cannot see that any information has been given. We have noticed in other texts
investigated in the course of our research into the early manuscript base[5] that Osman Yahia
often applied a finding from one work in a collection to all the rest. In our opinion this is rarely
justified, and each work has to be assessed on the basis of the particular details given in the
copying notes. Thus basic questions of methodology are raised which we hope to go into
further at a later time.[6]
In the meantime, in this paper we have restricted ourselves to giving the information only as it
appears at the beginning and/or end of the texts. Our amended readings produce a very
different picture of Ibn 'Arab's movements in the years 60102, and so at the end of the
article we have provisionally sketched out an alternative itinerary based on this and other
manuscripts.

Text
The collection is written in the same hand throughout, and, as far as we can tell, has been
bound in the order in which the works were copied. The handwriting is a good legible Naskhi,
in black ink only, about 20 lines per folio. The manuscript is in excellent condition, and is
legible throughout. There is no fihris, but the scribe has provided a title folio for most works,
on which he has written the name clearly. The final work, al-Istilht al-sfiyya,finishes on
147a, and is followed by about eight folios of extracts, poems and short maxims, some
attributed to various authors and some anonymous.

The text is annotated throughout with poems and short extracts on spare folios and in the
margins. Some of these are by other writers, but many carry notes saying that they were also
copied from Ibn 'Arab's handwriting. We have not yet analysed them in detail, and so are not
able to say whether they are Ibn 'Arab works, and if so, whether they are texts of which we
have copies elsewhere a first perusal has failed to find any of the poems in the Dwn or
whether they represent previously unknown material. A translation of one of the poems
appears on p. v of this journal. Otherwise, this short article limits itself to cataloguing the main
texts.
1. Ishrt al-Qur'n fi 'lam al-insn (RG 303): 1a18

First page of the manuscript. See a larger image.

The first title folio (1a) is for Ishrt al-Qur'n, and following the title there is a 15-line extract
in the same hand from theNasab al-khirqa (RG 530), describing the giving of the khirqa by
Ynus b. Ab Yahy b. Ab l-Barakt al-Hshim al-'Abbs in 599. With a few minor differences,
the text is identical to that of other versions of Nasab such as Beyazit 3750 (ff. 378a/b). The
extract is prefaced by the statement:
ra'aytu bi-khatt al-sayyid al-kabr Muhy al-dn ibn al-'Arab (rahimahu Allh ta'l) m
sawwartuhu nisbatun f'l-khirqa
indicating that it was taken from an original copy. This is of interest because Nasab is
considered to have been written in 633,[7] whereas all the other texts in Veliyuddin 51 were
taken from originals dated 601 or 602. It is of course possible that the extract was taken from
another collection in the Shaykh's hand, but it is far more likely that it came from the same
autograph copy as the rest. Its appearance here would therefore indicate that Ibn 'Arab wrote
at least part of Nasab much earlier, perhaps setting down the major events near the time
when they occurred.
The title folio also includes a note saying that the book belonged to the library of Shams al-dn
al-Fanr (d.884/ad 1430). This important figure in the history of Akbarian thought was the
first Ottoman Shaykh al-Islam, and a qd in Bursa, where his tomb can still be visited. His
father was a Sf master of the initiatic line of Sadr al-dn al-Qnaw,[8] and al-Fanr himself
was a famous scholar; his commentary upon al-Qnaw'sMifth al-Ghayb, entitled Misbh alUns, became an important foundational text in the tarqas of Turkey and Iran, and is studied to
this day. There were other important collections of Ibn 'Arab texts in his library, including
Beyazit 3750 containing 33 works written in 782 in Aleppo, and Beyazit 3785, containing two
works written in 716. Both of these are now in the Beyazit library.

The full text of Ishrt begins on 1b. At the end, on 18b, there is a copying note which
translates as follows:
The Ishrt al-Mubraka were completed in Jerusalem, may God defend and protect it, by the
hand of the poor one towards God, Ahmad b. Muhammad b. Muthabbit, and he copied it from
the handwriting of the author and composer, the teacher, Muhy al-dn Ab 'Abd Allah M. b. 'Al
b. M. al-'Arab al-Htim al-' (may God have mercy on him and be pleased with him).
He said at the end of it: "The Ishrt al-Qur'n were completed at noon on Wednesday the
13th day of glorious Ramadn in 601. I wrote it out (nasakhtuhu) for my friend al-Mas'd 'Abd
Allh Badr b. 'Abd Allh al-Habash, the freed slave of Ab al-Ghanim b. Ab al-Futh alHarrn'"
Osman Yahia, in the reading of this note, concludes that this work was "composed in
Jerusalem in 602",[9] but we could find no mention of the place of writing.
2. K. al-Alif (RG 26): 19a26a
The title K. al-Alif wa huwa k. al-ahadiyya is written on 19a, and underneath there is a note,
which we believe is in the same hand, that translates as:
Composed by Muhy al-dn ibn al-'Arab, who said (may God have mercy on him) "I composed
it in Jerusalem (bayt al-muqaddas) in an hour in the daytime."
On 26a, at the end, a further note repeats this information and adds that the original was in
Ibn 'Arab's handwriting. Osman Yahia again concludes, on the basis of this second note, that
the text was written in Jerusalem in 601,[10] but we could not find a date. The year 601
would be a reasonable conjecture, however, given the other notes in the collection.
3. K. al-Jalla (RG 169): 27a33b
There is a folio-length gap between the end of the previous work and the start of this, which
has been filled on 26b with what appear to be a set of aphorisms by Ibn 'Arab. At the end of
these, running onto 27a, there is a copying note which says:
qaratu l-kitba kullahu 'al al-mutakallim bihi al-'lim bi-hadratihi f l-masjid al-muqaddas alaqs f sanat ahad 78 katabahu Ahmad.
I read all of the book with the one who speaks it, the scholar, in his presence in the Holy alAqs Mosque [Jerusalem] in the year one-78 [781?]. Written by Ahmad.
It would be reasonable to conjecture that "Ahmad" is Ahmad b. Muthabbit, who copied the rest
of the book, and that this "scholar" was his teacher. Unfortunately, no further information
about this person seems to be given. At the end of the text, on 33b, there is a copying note:
The K. al-Jalla has been completed through God's favour and may God bless Muhammad, his
people and his companions. I copied it from the handwriting of its composer Ibn 'Arab in the
year 762 in Jerusalem

Again, Osman Yahia concluded that the text was written in 601 in Jerusalem,[11] but we feel
that this assertion is not justified on the basis of this note.
4. K. al-Azal (RG 68): 34a40b
The title is on 34a.[12] At the end, on 40b, there is a brief note saying that the work was
copied by Ahmad b. Muthabbit from the handwriting of the author, but no dates or places are
given. Osman Yahia, however, has once again given a date and place, Jerusalem in 601, citing
this note.[13]
5. K. al-Y' (RG 205): 41a47b
The title is given on 41a. Underneath, there are some lines from a poem by 'Al b. Muhammad
(Ibn) al-S't (555604/11601207),[14] which is stated as having been taken from the
anthology Ghazal al-Zirf wa-Mughzalat al-Ashrf by 'Al b. Anjab b. 'Ubayd Allh al-Khzin
(d.674). The text of K. al-Ybegins on 41b, and ends on 47b with a copying note saying:
The book was completed in an hour of the day and this copy is in the hand of its author It
was copied by Ahmad b. M. b. Muthabbit
Osman Yahia once again states that this note shows that the work was written in 601 in
Jerusalem,[15] but we could find no mention of date or place to justify his assertion.
6. Ittihd al-kawn (RG 317): 48a56a

First page of Ittihd al-kawn. See larger image.

The title is given on 48a, and underneath there is a note saying:

Ibn 'Arab... wrote it to Ab l-Fawris Sakhr b. Sinn (owner of the reins of generosity and
eloquence) may God grant both of them success. [It is] the transmission of the Sufi ... Badr ...
al-Habash, freed slave of Ab l-Ghan'im Ibn Ab l-Futh al-Harrn Copied by one who
draws from the ocean of his Lord's generosity, Ahmad b. M. b. Muthabbit, from the hand of the
one who sent the letter, praise to God almighty.
A further note at the end, on 56a, confirms the copying from an autograph and the copyist. In
this case, Osman Yahia has not given a date or place, and we agree that there is no mention
of them in the text.

7. K. al-Qasam al-ilh bi al-ism al-rabbn (RG 565): 57a68b

The title is given on 57a, and the text itself starts on 57b. At the end, on 68b, there is a note
saying:
I copied it from the handwriting of its author Ibn 'Arab. And he said (may God have mercy
on him) at the end of it: "The book was completed in the city of Mosul on the 29th of Jumd
al-l of the year 601. And I found in his handwriting, at the end of it "
It is followed by a five-line poem, which appears to be written in a number-code that we have
not yet deciphered. Osman Yahia has this work as being composed in 601 in Jerusalem,
[16] but this is clearly a mistake as the name of Mosul is written quite distinctly.
8. Al-Maqsid al-asm' (RG 418): 69a74b

Poems in the margins. See larger image.

The title is given on folio 69a as Al-madkhal il ma'rifa ma'khidh al-nazar f al-asm', followed
by a note confirming that it was copied from an autograph, then several lines of spells used by
the Prophet for curing the sick. The text begins on 69b, and at the end, on 74b, there is a
further copying note confirming that it was taken from an original. No date or place is
apparent.
Folios 72a/b, 73a/b and 74a contain 10 snippets of poetry, mostly quatrains, in the margins
with notes saying: "and in his hand". While the authorship of these poems cannot be taken for
granted, as Ibn 'Arab is known to have copied out works by other people if he admired them,
these verses appear to be Akbarian in both style and content.[17]
9. K. al-Nuqab' (RG 548): 75a83b
The title is given on 75a, and the text begins on 75b. There is a short note at the end saying
that it was copied by Ahmad b. M. b. Muthabbit and taken from an original in the hand of Ibn
'Arab. Osman Yahia, however, has once again stated that the work was composed in
Jerusalem in 602 on the basis of this note,[18] for which we can see no justification.
10. K. Kunh m l budda li al-murd minhu (RG 352): 84a91a
The title is given on 84a, with an important note as follows:

Kitb Kunh m l budd lil-murd minhu li-Ibn al-'Arab (rahimahu llhu ta'l). wa-naqaltuhu
min khattihi wa-kadhlik kull m qablahu wa-m ba'dahu mimm f hdh l-majm'.
I copied the book Kunh m l budd lil-murd minhu by Ibn 'Arab (may God have mercy on
him) from his hand, and the same goes for all that is before and after it in this volume.
A short note on 91a confirms that it was copied from an autograph. No date or place is given.
Osman Yahia maintains that the work was composed in Mosul in 601, and he gives as his
source not Veliyuddin 51 but a reference in Brockelmann, who lists other manuscripts, outside
Turkey, which we have not yet inspected.[19]
11. K. al-Amr al-Muhkam (RG 28): 91b110b
There is no title to this text, and it starts with bismillhi al-rahmn al-rahm on 91b. At the
end, on 110b, there is a note saying that the book was completed in Damascus in Jumd all 602 by the hand of its author. The scribe identifies himself as Ahmad b. M. b. Muthabbit
and says he copied it on 15 Dh l-hijja 762 in Ily, which is another name for Jerusalem.[20]
Osman Yahia asserts that the text was completed in Konya in 602, based (he says) on
evidence within the text.[21] We can only assume that this refers to three lines from the
bottom on 95b: wa-laqad haddathan Awhad al-dn Hmid ibn Ab l-Fakhr al-Kirmn bi-manzil
f madnat Qniya f shahr Safar sanat 602 ("Awhad al-dn Kirmn related to me in my home
in the city of Konya in Safar 602 ...").
12. R. al-Ma'lm (RG 402): 111a114a
This is the only historic manuscript for this text, and so its inclusion in the canon of Ibn 'Arab's
authenticated works rests on the evidence presented here. The title is given on folio 111a, and
the text itself starts on 111b.
At the end, on 114a, there is a note saying that it was composed in Damascus on 3rd Jumd
al-l of the year 602, and that it was copied from the autograph by Ahmad b. M. b. Muthabbit
in Jerusalem in the year 762. Osman Yahia mentions the date of 602 in his comments based
on this note,[22]but does not include the place.
13. K. al-Muqni' (RG 511): 115a124a
The title is given on folio 115a and the work starts on 115b. At the end, on 124a, there is a
note giving once again the name of the copyist and the fact that it was taken from an original
in the hand of the author, who said:
It was written (kutiba) in the city of Damascus in the month of Jumd l-l of the year 602.
Osman Yahia has it composed in Jerusalem on the basis of this note and also Beyazit 3750,
[23] folio 356b. Our inspection of the latter shows that it confirms the date, but there is no
mention of Jerusalem. So there is nothing to contradict the information given here.
14. K. al-B' (RG 71): 125a131b

Folio 124b and the space under the title on 125a is filled with a long extract in the same hand
which we believe to be a later addition, not yet identified. The text of K. al-B' starts on 125b,
and at the end, on 131b, there is a note saying that it was copied by Ahmad b. M. b.
Muthabbit in the year 762 from the handwriting of the author Ibn 'Arab, and that it was
checked against the original by reading. No date or place of composition are given.
Underneath there are two additional poems which may or may not be by Ibn 'Arab.
15. K. Hilyat al-abdl (RG 237): 132a136a
The title is given on 132a and the text itself starts on 132b. At the end, on 136a, there is a
note saying that it was copied in 762 in the hand of Ahmad b. M. b. Muthabbit, who took it
from the handwriting of the author, who said at the end of the book that he had composed it in
Malatya, in Anatolia, on the 9th of Rab' al-awwal 602. Osman Yahia does not mention this
note, although he correctly lists the text as having been copied from an original.
The date exactly agrees with that on Yusuf Aga 4868, which is the best copy of the text.
[24] But it is not the actual date of composition of the work, which is given in the preface as
599 in Mecca.[25] This opens up the intriguing possibility that Yusuf Aga 4868 was the original
from which Ahmad copied this version of Hilyat, although a comparison of the two collections
as a whole does not throw up any further obvious correlations.
16. K. 'Iqd al-manzm (RG 297): 136b142b
There is no title to this work. Osman Yahia has it copied from an original and gives a date of
602 in Jerusalem,[26] but we could find no information on copying or composition either at the
beginning or the end. Osman Yahia calls it K. 'Iqd al-manzm and assigns to it RG 297 along
with eight other manuscripts. However, he also assigns RG 384, Madkhal f'ilm al-hurf to four
of these. This has led to a very confusing situation which requires another article to
satisfactorily resolve.[27]
The question of the status of the work in Veliyuddin 51, however, can be addressed. Although
it has no specific notes attached to it, it may well be covered by the general note on 84a, in
which case it would have been copied from an original autograph. On the other hand, it is at
the end of the collection and the following work, Istilht al-sfiyya, although it has a note
with a copying date (see below), again makes no mention of having been taken from an
autograph. In view of the consistent notes throughout the rest of the collection, it may be that
these last two works were added slightly later from other sources, and so were not covered by
the note on 84a. None of the other manuscripts have a provenance which would definitively
establish 'Iqd al-manzm as an Ibn 'Arab work, and Veliyuddin 51 has therefore been cited as
the best source. But on the basis of what we have said above, the evidence is not sufficient to
prove authenticity beyond doubt.
17. Al-Istilht al-sfiyya (RG 315): 143b147a
There is no title on 143a, which is blank, and the text begins on 143b. There is a note at the
end of 147a which again gives the name of the scribe as Ahmad b. Muthabbit in 763 in almasjid al-aqs, so Jerusalem again. No information is given about the date of composition.

Conclusion
The notes and ancillary information on Veliyuddin 51 indicate that at least 15, and possibly all
17, of the works in the collection were copied from an original autograph. As such it is a very
important source of good texts for editing and translating.
It also yields valuable biographical information about Ibn 'Arab's early period in the Mashriq.
The dates and places given for the composition of the works as revealed by our reading differ
in almost every case from those given by Osman Yahia in his bibliography. But they fit in well
with the information given on other manuscripts which we have had the opportunity to
examine first-hand in the course of our research. These amended dates imply a very different
picture of Ibn 'Arab's movements in the years 601 and 602. Overleaf we summarise the
information from Veliyuddin 51, and submit a provisional itinerary for the period based upon
this new evidence.[28]

Notes and Tables

Information given in the notes of Veliyuddin 51

Work

Date of Composition

Place

Nasab al-khirqa

--

--

Ishrt al-Qur'n

3 Ramadn 601

--

K. al-Alif

--

Jerusalem

K. al-Jalla

--

--

K. al-Azal

--

--

K. al-Y'

--

--

Ittihd al-kawn

--

--

K. al-Qasam al-ilh

29 Jumd al-l 601

Mosul

Al-Maqsid al-asm'

--

--

K. al-Nuqab'

--

--

K. Kunh

--

--

K. al-Amr al-Muhkam

Jumd al-l 602

Damascus

R. al-Ma'lm

3 Jumd al-l 602

Damascus

K. al-Muqni'

Jumd al-l 602

Damascus

K. al-B'

--

--

K. Hilyat al-abdl

9 Rab' al-awwal 602

Malatya

K. 'Iqd al-manzm

--

--

Ibn 'Arab's Itinerary

Month

Year

Work

Details

Manuscript

11 and 26 Safar

601

Rh al-Quds

Read in Baghdad

University 79

Rabi' awwal

601

Rh al-Quds

Read in ? Mosul?

University 79

29 Jumd al-l

601

K. al-Qasam alilh

Composed in Mosul

Veliyuddin 51

--

601

Tanazzult

Composed in eight days in Mosul

Ahmed 5109, EH869

13 Ramadn

601

Ishrt al-Qur'n

Composed in Malatya

Veliyuddin 51

29 Ramadn

601

Rh al-Quds

Read in Malatya

University 79

13 Dhu'l Qa'da

601

Rh al-Quds

Read in Malatya

University 79

Safar

602

K. al-Amr

Meeting with Kirman in Konya

Veliyuddin 51

--

602

Rislat al-anwr

Composed in Rm

Ayasofia 4875

9 Rabi' awwal

602

K. Hilyat al-abdl

Copied in Malatya

Yusuf Aga 4868

Veliyuddin 51

Jumd al-l

602

K. al-Amr

Composed in Damascus

Veliyuddin 51

3 Jumd al-l

602

K. al-Ma'lm

Composed in Damascus

Veliyuddin 51

Jumd al-l

602

K. al-Muqni'

Composed in Damascus

Veliyuddin 51
Beyazit 3750

Shawwl

602

Rh al-Quds

Read in Hebron

University 79

14 Shawwl

602

K. al-Yaqn

Composed in Hebron

Shehit Ali 1341

19 Sha'bn

603

Rh al-Quds

Read in Cairo

University 79

[1] There are detailed notes at the beginnings and endings of many works to this effect, plus,
on 84a, a note covering all the works "before and after". See below for detailed analyses.
[2] The first reference is on 18b; others are given below in the descriptions of individual
works.
[3] Damascus, 1964. Yahia gave each work a number which has now become a standard form
of reference for Ibn 'Arab works. We have therefore given the "RG number" of each work
alongside the titles.
[4] Claude Addas, Quest for the Red Sulphur, Cambridge, 1993.
[5] This research has been undertaken under the umbrella of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arab
Society's Archiving Project, which has the aim of making a digital archive of the best surviving
Ibn 'Arab manuscripts.
[6] This point will be amplified in the forthcoming paper on the general findings of the
Archiving Project by Jane Clark and Stephen Hirtenstein.
[7] See Histoire, p. 407. The best text is Esad Effendi 1507, which was copied from an
autograph dated 633, and it is upon this manuscript that Yahia based his date of composition.

See also Elmore "Ibn 'Arab's Testament on the Mantle of Initiation (al-khirqah)", JMIAS, XXVI,
1999, pp. 12.
[8] See J. R. Walsh in Encylopaedia of Islam, second edition, p. 879. Al-Fanr's father, Shaykh
Hamza, is said to have studied with Sadr al-dn al-Qnaw himself, although, as Walsh
comments, the dating is unlikely.
[9] See Histoire, p. 318.
[10] Ibid., p. 153.
[11] Ibid., p. 265.
[12] Under it is the phrase: "and I found in his handwriting, I mean Ibn al-'Arab Muhy l-dn
(God bless him), from his verse, "Bewilderment from bewilderment ". Surprisingly, the note
stops there; but what is referred to is presumably the poem at the end of the previous work,
which also begins "Bewilderment from bewilderment".
[13] See Histoire, p. 177.
[14] The poem is to be found in Ibn al-S't's published Dwn, ed. A. E. Khr, 2 vols, Beirut,
193839, Vol. I, pp. 4750.
[15] See Histoire, p. 279.[16] Ibid., p. 420.
[17] For instance, the poem on 73a in the left margin begins: lamm sta'antu bi-rabb lam ajid
sanadan. We have noted that lamm at the beginning is a feature of many poems in Ibn
'Arab's Dwn but is found much less frequently in the work of other poets.
[18] See Histoire, p. 414.
[19] Ibid., p. 339. The reference is to Carl Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur,
Leiden, 18981902, S, I, 794/15.
[20] Al-Muqaddas, Ahsan al-taqsm f ma'rifat al-duny wal-dn, ed. Shkir La'b, Abu Dhabi,
2003, p. 56.
[21] See Histoire, p. 155.
[22] Ibid., p. 355.[23] Ibid., p. 402.
[24] See Yusuf Aga 4868, ff. 7483, which Osman Yahia lists as an autograph (see Histoire, p.
292). Our inspection shows that it could not have been written by Ibn 'Arab himself for
textural reasons, but there is no doubt that it was written by a close companion with a similar
Maghrebi hand and so is of excellent provenance.
[25] See Histoire, p. 292.[26] Ibid., pp. 31516.

[27] Although it is possible to say briefly that our inspection of the available manuscripts
shows that they are all the same basic work, with some slight variations.
[28] Our thanks to Stephen Hirtenstein, upon whose research this itinerary is based. Some of
the information gained from other manuscripts has not been published before; Osman Yahia,
for instance, in his description of University 79, which is the autograph Rh al-quds, does not
give the exact dates for the nine sam' it contains, but only the year. It should be emphasised
that this is only a provisional itinerary, based upon preliminary research. A more detailed and
annotated version will form the basis of a future paper.

Images

Return to text

The first page of the manuscript with the extract from the Nasab al-Khirqa and Fanari library note.

Return to text

The end of the Kitab al-Ya' and the beginning of the Ittihd al-kawn, with the interesting note about auhtorship.

Return to text

Text of Al-Maqsid al-asm' with poems round the margins.

The Beauty of Oneness witnessed in the emptiness

of the heart
I nearly called this talk "Going in I found that I was really going out" after a famous statement
of John Muir's who founded the American National Parks Movement. On observing the beauty
of the natural world he said, "Going out I found that I was really going in," because the beauty
found in nature was like a mirror to his soul. Beauty can be witnessed because beauty is within
and similarly, going in, going into the self seems to be like a fractal unfolding - you voyage into
the infinitely small in the same way that the heavens are infinitely large. In Ibn 'Arabi's Kernel
of the Kernel (1), Hazreti Ali' is quoted as saying, "You thought you were a part, small, but in
you there is a universe, the greatest." Similarly, retreat is like going into the self in order to
discover that what is hidden there is displayed outwardly in the universe.
I would like to begin by saying something about the meaning of the word 'retreat' and
obviously, in the context of this symposium, we are primarily concerned with what Muhyiddin
Ibn 'Arabi means by retreat. However, this title does not necessarily correspond directly with
the Arabic word 'khalwa' which is usually used to translate retreat, since, in Arabic as in
English, there are many other words and ideas associated with retreat. Retreat refers to a
withdrawal to a place of seclusion or safety: a place of refuge. It may refer to the spiritual
practice of retreat as seclusion in a cell or to the general principle of withdrawing or fleeing to
God.
Fleeing to God, in the context of Ibn 'Arabi's doctrine on the unity of existence, is not a flight
away from one thing towards another, since there is nothing in existence but God; fleeing to
God is merely a way of expressing the flight from ignorance to knowledge (2) - a theme which
runs through all of Ibn 'Arabi's writings. However, Ibn 'Arabi also wrote specifically about the
spiritual practice of retreat in the Futuhat al-Makkiyya (3), in the Risalat al-anwar which Rabia
Terri Harris has translated into English under the title Journey to the Lord of Power (4) and in
at least one other treatise which he devotes to the subject, the Kitab al-khalwa. (5).
The practice of physically withdrawing from the world to a cell or some other isolated place is
inevitably associated with asceticism. Ibn 'Arabi mentions some of the methods associated
with retreat as a practice of withdrawing from the world in the Hilyat al-abdal (6) which refers
specifically to seclusion or solitude, 'uzla. This kind of seclusion is characterised by abstinence,
in particular refraining from speech, refraining from the company of people and refraining from
food and sleep, described here by Ibn 'Arabi as silence, solitude, hunger and wakefulness.
Ascetic elements of the retreat are described not as something in which to remain for their
own sake, thereby conditioning what might be given freely, but as a means to an end, for they
loosen the grip that the animal self exercises by curbing the natural appetites and they help in
the cutting of worldly ties in order to bring the realisation of one's dependence on God Alone:
that in silence and solitude conversation may take place with the Real One, for His is the
Company, and through hunger and wakefulness it is known that God is the Nourisher and God
is the One who gives repose.
Ibn Sawdakn reports that Ibn 'Arabi told him, "Retreat and seclusion is all for the preparation
of the place by cutting the ties. It is agreed that the one who finds intimacy with God the Most
High in retreat has really [only] become intimate with retreat, not with God (Allh), and He is

the Truth (al-haqq)." The physical cutting away from wordly attachments and severing from
dependence on secondary causes (7) may be helpful as a means of approaching God.
However, Ibn 'Arabi seems to indicate that the means should not be taken as important in
themselves, lest the seekers familiarize themselves with a method instead of finding closeness
to God, and limit Him by trying to approach Him through something other than Himself. Much
of what Ibn 'Arabi writes in his letters, treatises and books address a particular individual or
group of people, at a certain stage and for a specific reason, all of which is incidental to its
purpose of helping others to withdraw from their belief in the existence of anything besides the
One and Unique existence. The physical practice of retreat needs to be undertaken within
careful guidelines and Ibn 'Arabi makes it clear, in the Risalat al-anwar, which is addressed to
someone who is already advanced in spiritual disciplines, that caution needs to be exercised.
He says, "...do not enter your cell until you are aware of your station and of the extent to
which you are able to oppose the power of the imagination. If your imagination has power
over you, you must go into retreat only under the guidance of a teacher who is trained in
discerning spirits and familiar with the Way. If, on the other hand, your imagination is under
your control, do not fear to go into retreat." (8)
Ibn 'Arabi himself recounts that he went into retreat whilst still "a beardless youth." He relates
that Averroes wanted to meet him because he had heard of the amazing illumination he had
received whilst on retreat. By his own admission (9), Ibn 'Arabi was one of those few people
who had gone into seclusion, apparently without the usual long period of initiatic training, and
had been granted a spiritual opening. During this retreat, Jesus, whom he calls his first
teacher and the master through whom he returned to God, appeared to him in a vision and
told him to practise asceticism (zuhd) and self denial (tajrd) (10). When he was still only
about twenty years old, Ibn 'Arabi recounts in the Ruh al-quds, he was asked by his first
earthly master, al-Uryani, if he was firmly resolved to follow God's Way. Ibn 'Arabi replied, "The
servant may resolve but it is God who decides the issue." He was then advised, "Shut the door,
sever all ties and take the Bounteous alone as your companion; He will speak to you without a
veil"(11). This, we are told, is the course which Ibn 'Arabi pursued until he succeeded. He does
not make explicit whether this advice was followed only in his interior or also exteriorly in the
form of a physical retreat, but we do know that Ibn 'Arabi spent many periods of time in
retreat throughout his life (12). Considering some of the apparently disparaging remarks he
makes about retreat being only for the person who is veiled this may be surprising, yet it only
serves to underline the varying physical and metaphysical dimensions of retreat which we
intend to explore further in what follows.
A tradition of going into retreat had continued amongst the descendants of Ishmael
throughout the generations (13). The Prophet Mohammed used to spend periods of retreat in
a cave in Mount Hira near Mecca in order to devote himself to God and, Ibn 'Arabi writes, to
"flee from seeing people, since he used to find in himself straitness and constriction in seeing
them. Had he gazed upon the face of God within them," Ibn 'Arabi comments, "he would not
have fled from them, nor would he have sought to be alone with himself. He remained like this
till God came to him suddenly. Then he returned to the creatures and stayed with them." (14)
So long as a person does not see the reality of things, his state is such, Ibn 'Arabi says that
"he must withdraw and flee from those affairs which divert him from (the real) situation, so
that God may unveil his insight and his sight"(15). At one level it would seem that this
unveiling of the insight and the sight coincides with the spiritual station of retreat which, once

possessed, is never effaced (16). Yet at the same time the one who possesses it moves
between gazing inwards and gazing outwards. Gazing upon God within oneself is deemed to be
a necessary preliminary to recognizing Him in the exterior, within the secondary causes. Ibn
'Arabi writes, "Every seeker of his Lord must be alone with himself with his Lord in his inmost
consciousness, since God gave man an outward dimension (zahir) and an inward dimension
(batin) only so that he might be alone with God in his inward dimension, and witness Him in
his outward dimension within the secondary causes, after having gazed upon Him in his inward
dimension, so that he may discern Him within the midst of the secondary causes. Otherwise,
he will never recognize Him. He who enters the spiritual retreat (khalwa) with God does so
only for this reason, since man's inward dimension is the cell of his retreat."(17)
This cell of retreat is therefore always present with us. The physical withdrawal from all the
distractions encountered in daily life is evidently helpful towards concentrating on the oneness
of being and occupying oneself with nothing other than God. Yet a person's relative state of
fragmentation or integration may persist whether in retreat or in company. Some people find
themselves highly distracted by their own thoughts and imaginings whilst alone, hence the
prayer, given in Ibn 'Arabi's Wird, O Lord "I take refuge in You from myself" (18). Others may
be highly focussed on the essential even in the midst of daily life, like those people mentioned
in the Quran (24:37), "whom even buying and selling does not distract from the remembrance
of God."
Meister Eckhart talks of a similar idea in his sermons. When he was asked about detachment
and those who keep apart from others, he replied: "If all is well with the man then truly,
wherever he may be, whoever he may be with, it is well with him but if things are not right
with him, then everywhere and with everybody it is all wrong with him. If it is well with him,
truly he has God with him but whoever really and truly has God, he has Him everywhere, in
the street and in company with everyone, just as much as in church or in solitary places or
with himself. But if a man really has God and has only God, then no-one can hinder him. Why?
Because he only has God and his intention is towards God alone and all things become for him
nothing but God... No one can hinder this man who intends and seeks and takes delight in
nothing but God, for God has become one with the man in all his intention. So just as no
multiplicity can disturb God, nothing can disturb or fragment this man, for he is one in that
One where all multiplicity is one and one is 'unmultiplicity'."(19)
Taking refuge with God from multiplicity may be pursued by anyone, whatever their spiritual
station and whether in a cell or in society. Withdrawing to a place of safety and security is
integral to the notion of retreat, whether physically or simply as a movement of the heart. In
the Wird, the daily prayers which Ibn 'Arabi gave to his students, it is affirmed "there is no
place of retreat nor safety save in You" (l malja' wa l manja' illa ilayka) (20), so the place in
which retreat really takes place is in God.
The real meaning of this withdrawal to God is drawn out by Ibn 'Arabi when he asks, "From
whom dost thou flee and there is nought in existence but He? " He warns that it is necessary
to be wary of separating God from the world and fleeing to a divinity of one's own imagining.
The cause of this imaginary flight, Ibn 'Arabi says, "is the lack of tasting (dhawq) of the
things" and "the fact that the one who flees heard in the recitation (of the Quran) (51:50) "So
flee to God!" This verse is correct except that the one who is fleeing did not pay attention to
what is mentioned in the following verse, that is, His words, "And set not up with God another

God." Had he known this completing verse, he would have known that God's words, "So flee to
God!" refer to the flight from ignorance to knowledge. The situation is one and unitary." (21)
So beyond and within the exterior retreat is the idea of going inwards or withdrawing to an
interior state where one may occupy oneself with God Alone and not with anything else,
because indeed there is nothing else. In this way, the one who withdraws may realise their
total dependence on God Alone and see that everything that comes to one, comes from Him
alone and that everything that one sees as a secondary cause is nothing but a manifestation of
God in a particular form. In reality, nothing can happen to one that is not within the order, that
does not come from God and yet we perceive some things to be 'other' and flee from them.
(Then maybe end up like Bob Dylan sings in one of his latest songs: "I can't even remember
what it was I came here to get away from." [in Time out of Mind '97]! ) Due to the effects of
God's Names in manifestation and because of relativity, there are some Names which are less
attractive than others: some positive names which we like to affirm and some which we try to
avoid. It may be that God sometimes manifests Himself to us under the aspect of rigour in
order to make us turn to His Mercy. In this way we seek God in His manifestation as the
Merciful and try to avoid Him in His manifestation as the Avenger.
Fleeing from the effects of God's Names to that which is more essential and all-encompassing
is exemplified by the making of armour by David, explained by Ibn 'Arabi in the Chapter on
David in the Fusus al-Hikam (22). David learnt how to protect himself from spears and swords
and other weapons made of iron, by softening iron to make protective armour. The material
that weapons are made of thus becomes a covering and protection from weapons. This, Ibn
'Arabi explains, was consequent to God's bringing to David's awareness that "nothing protects
a thing except with itself." David's softening of the iron with fire is likened to the softening of
hardened hearts through restriction and threat. Since God is both the Avenger and the
Merciful, protection is sought from the Most Merciful against the rigour of His Name the
Avenger. Acknowledging that there is nothing in existence but God, and yet recognising that
God's Mercy precedes His Anger and is all-encompassing, then one protects oneself from God
by God. Because of this, with the coming of the the Mohammedian Way, the Prophet said, " I
take refuge in You from You"(23).
The fact that this example demonstrates taking refuge in the All-Merciful from the Avenger, as
opposed to any of the other Divine Names which appear in opposition, such as the Creator and
the Destroyer, or the Expander and the Constrictor, is not incidental. The Merciful is the allencompassing Name which is specifically mentioned by God in His words, "Call Me Allh, call
Me the Rahmn/the Merciful..." This is the Name which mercifies all the other names and the
Name through which creation takes place. Hence it encompasses all the other Names and goes
beyond and unites the opposing Names.
It is the Merciful (al-rahmn) to whom Mary turned when she went into retreat from her
people and veiled herself from them.(Q.19:16-18). When the Angel Gabriel appeared before
her, she went into a state of contraction, imagining that he was a man wanting to know her
carnally. In this state of not knowing what the reality of the situation was, she turned to God
with all her being, saying, "I take refuge in the Merciful (rahmn) from you". "Consequently,"
Ibn 'Arabi says, "she was overwhelmed with a perfect state of the Divine Presence"(24). That
complete presence was the spiritual Spirit. Then, having withdrawn to that state she was able
to perceive the truth of Gabriel's words and remembered the announcement of the joyful

news, the beshara, that God had promised. She relaxed from her state of constriction and
then Gabriel blew Jesus, which is the spirit of God, into her (25). The commentary attributed
to Ismail Hakki Bursevi adds, "that complete presence is the spiritual spirit which expanded
that which is binding and constricting. There can be no expansion except in the revelation of
the Breath of the All-Merciful (rahmn) in the spirit of the person."(26) These are the
conditions in which Jesus, the Spirit of God, came about in Mary.
In this account of the conception of Jesus there is also a beautiful example of taking refuge in
the Essential from the effects of God's Names in manifestation, in order to know how to
respond. The turning is to God as the source of help in responding to the situation, knowing
that there is no power nor strength save in Him. This withdrawing and refraining from action of
one's own, seems to be a vital aspect of retreat. God's presence cannot be felt in a place that
is cluttered with thought, ingrained patterns of action and fanciful imagination. But in that
moment of acknowledging only God's Lordship by turning to Him and by withdrawing to that
space where God is always present, God may appear as He wishes. He can only appear in this
unconfined way in a place that is pure, cleansed and abluted like the place of Mary, free of
selfhood, free of desires, free of imposition, a place that is clear, clean and empty. This is why
the heart, the spiritual centre of the human being, the place where Reality can appear in all its
Beauty, must be clean and free.
The whole question of what it means to withdraw from the world and worldly things raises the
question of what creation and created things are. Withdrawal from the creation may be seen in
the context of the three journeys, described in detail inKernel of the Kernels, which may be
summarized as the process of coming into creation, the return or ascent to God, and the
return to the creation. The ascent to God thus corresponds to the retreat or withdrawal from
creation and the return to creation corresponds to the return to 'society'. This correspondence
is made explicit in the Risalat al-anwar, whose full title may be translated as "The treatise on
the Lights granted to one who undertakes retreat." Ibn 'Arabi states that it was written in reply
to a question about "the modes of the journey to the Almighty Master, the arrival in His
presence and the return, from and through Him to His creatures - a return which yet involves
no separation, for nothing exists other than God, His attributes and His acts. Everything is He,
is through Him, proceeds from Him, returns to Him."(27)
Whilst these journeys, which describe a person's spiritual development, describe a linear
progression in time they may simultaneously be regarded as a constant process of return to
the source and recreation with each breath. Retreat as seclusion with God, is then likened to a
process of decreation or returning to one's uncreated state, whilst the return to the creation is
the manifestation according to the revelation of God at that instant. Whether visualized as an
ascent and a descent, or as a turning inwards followed by a turning outwards, this retreat and
return to creation may be regarded both as spiritual stations of the perfect ones and as a
practice at every moment for anyone who wishes to witness the truth, whatever their state,
whether far or near, since, Ibn 'Arabi reminds us, it has been affirmed that God is with us
wherever we are.
From this point of view, withdrawal from creation to God, is really nothing more than
withdrawal from illusion to the Real and from the belief that we have acquired existence, not
from acquired existence itself since, Ibn 'Arabi affirms, 'there is none' (28). He explains that
the meaning of the command, related in the Quran, "[Be!] And it is" (Q.36:82) is not that

things acquire existence but that that which hears the command acquires the property of
being a place of manifestation. Ibn 'Arabi remarks, "Those people of Wayfaring (ahl al-sulk)
without knowledge of this, not knowing who is the Manifest and the Witnessed and who is the
world, have chosen retreat (khalwa) in order to be isolated with God." (29)
Ibn 'Arabi maintains that when these people choose retreat, they are not able to withdraw
from the forms of things, like the walls and door of the room of their retreat. What they wish
to withdraw from is the words that people speak, whereas if they really understood the speech
of things they would recognise the gift that God gives in imparting knowledge through it.
Therefore, Ibn 'Arabi says, "For him whom God has given understanding, retreat and society
(khalwa and jalwa) are the same. Rather, it may be that society is more complete for a person
and greater in benefit, since through it at every instant he increases in sciences about God
that he did not possess."
The opposition of khalwah and jalwah, retreat and society, are examined in the chapters of the
Futuhat on retreat and the abandonment of retreat. Jalwa or jilwa, also has the meaning of
'the unveiling of a bride' so that her beauty, as one 'dressed in the Divine qualities' may be
displayed. Retreat as it is ordinarily understood is only suitable for the person who is veiled,
Ibn 'Arabi says, since the people whose insight is unveiled are always 'in society', even in the
cell of their retreat (30).) A person is veiled so long as 'otherness' is perceived to exist.
Einstein called man's perceived separation of himself from the rest of existence an 'optical
delusion of his consciousness'. This would seem an apt description of the altered perspective
which regards the creation as apart from the Creator.
Bulent Rauf, the founder of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, when pondering on Ibn 'Arabi's
denial of creation ex nihilo, asked "Can it be that what we call 'creation' or 'creature' is just
another dimension of the 'uncreated'? Can it be that the 'uncreated' looked at from another
relative point of view, 'appears' only appears, to be 'created' due to a relative vision? " (31).
Perhaps, then, in this sense, withdrawal from the created things is a withdrawal from what we
ourselves have created through our illusory idea of self. For Ibn 'Arabi, there is no visible thing
which is not a manifestation of God capable of imparting knowledge (32). In this way, all socalled things are regarded as places of theophany rather than distractions which hide God from
sight. He writes, "Know that for the Tribe withdrawal is to choose the retreat and to turn away
from everything that distracts from God. But for us withdrawal takes place in relation to
acquired existence (since the creed holds this to be so;) and in reality, there is none but True
Being" (33). Ibn Sawdakn was told (in the Kitab was'il al-s'il Book of means/aids for those
given to asking questions) by Ibn 'Arabi that the aim and intention of one who is in retreat and
seclusion from people is "to prepare the place for what is required by Lordship and the cutting
of ties" but "when this happens to him, he can dispense with retreat, and his retreat and his
unveiling (khalwa wa jalwa) become just like someone recited: O you, my companion at night
when mankind are sleeping and my confidant in the day while I am among them. " (34)
One of the purposes of retreat, then, is for witnessing the Beauty of Oneness without as well
as within, so that there is not seen to be this separation, this differentiation, between within
and without. Everything that is without is a reflection of what is within, so that wherever you
turn, there is the Beauty of His face, whether in the interior or whether in manifestation, so
that one is not preferred over the other but Reality is accepted however It shows Itself. The
definition of khalwa given by Ibn 'Arabi in his Istilah al-sufiyyah is "conversation of one's secret

awareness with the Real One in such a way that there is neither any material world [present]
nor any person"(35). Yet since conversation (muhdatha) is defined as "the Real One's
addressing the knowers from the visible world, as in the summons from the (bush) to
Moses"(36), it is clear that the usual distinctions between what is interior and what is the
visible world do not apply. God says, "We will show them Our signs in the horizons and in
themselves until it becomes clear to them that it is the Truth (al-haqq)" (Q. 41:53-4). In this
way, the human being is shown that all that appears manifest in the world is encompassed and
summarized within himself (37). Within and without then become merely ways of describing
the witnessing of the One existence.
The Void in which the world was created is in fact the metaphysical foundation of retreat, for
Ibn 'Arabi points out that the Arabic word 'khalwa' is derived from the same root as the word
(khal) meaning emptiness. He reminds us of the saying of the Prophet, "God was and there
was not with Him a thing [and He is now as He was]" and also of the question, "Where was
our Lord before He created creation? " to which the Prophet replied, "He was in a cloud ('ama')
above which and below which there is no air" (38). The emptiness or void in which there is no
creation and yet in which creation is created can be understood both as a metaphysical
explanation and an experiential reality. It refers to God and yet, insofar as I am no other, it
refers to the state in which I was before I was created.
This cloud (al-'ama), Ibn 'Arabi explains elsewhere, is nothing other than the Breath of the AllMerciful (39). He writes, "the first form assumed by the Breath of the All-Merciful was the
Cloud. So it is an All-Merciful Vapour within which there is mercy; or rather, it is mercy itself..."
(40). Ibn 'Arabi explains that "the Breath emerges from a root which is Love for the creatures,
to whom [God] desired to make Himself known, so that they might know Him. Hence the
Cloud comes to be; it is called the Real Through Whom Creation Takes Place" (41). Breathing
is caused by love as "a movement of yearning towards the object of love" (42), so the Breath
becomes manifest and the Cloud comes into being, as in the Holy Saying, "I was a hidden
treasure and I loved to be known (so I created the creatures)." This is the love of God to be
known and recognized as He really is, displayed in all His Beauty and which manifests in the
one who yearns to see Him.
Ibn Sawdakn reports that his master, Ibn 'Arabi, said that "the aim of retreat is emptiness and
preparation of the place"(43). The endeavour to prepare and purify the heart as the place of
God's revelation means emptying it of all the clutter acquired by giving importance to the
many things that seem to have a hold over our lives, instead of concentrating on the single
Source on which we are totally dependent. The heart needs to be empty in order to receive (as my T'ai Chi teacher used to say: "emptiness is a prerequisite for receptivity.") The
purification of the heart comes about only through God's help and any notion that one could
achieve this by one's own efforts would lead to disappointment. Nevertheless our endeavour is
nothing other than a display of the same love to be known.
Ibn 'Arabi explains that "the relationship between the human being (insn) and (retreat) is
that between God the Real (al-haqq) and 'the heart of the servant which contains God' and
where nothing else enters, under any aspect belonging to worldly realities, so that the heart
being empty (khl) or free of every worldly reality, God manifests Himself there with His
Being"(44). This is a manner of looking towards the Creator rather than the created, towards
the source of one's being rather than towards a fixed idea of the world, allowing God the Real

to be present in the heart according to how He wishes to reveal Himself rather than imposing
our own mental construct on reality. So long as we continue to give existence to things besides
God and indulge in them by attributing power to them, and allow our hearts to turn towards
anything other than the knowledge of Truth, we restrict and limit what we really are and
remain imprisoned by our own desires and beliefs. Ibn 'Arabi says,"...if you want to enter the
presence of the Truth and receive from Him without intermediary, and you desire intimacy with
Him, this will not be appropriate as long as your heart acknowledges any lordship other than
His. For you belong to that which exercises authority over you."(45)
Ibn 'Arabi gives advice for positive action towards this end when he says "Base the whole
matter of your seclusion (khalwah) upon facing God with absolute unification which is not
marred by any (form of) polytheism, implicit or explicit; and by denying with absolute
conviction all causes and intermediaries, whole or part...." (46). But perhaps the simplest
advice for protection against attachment to belief in the separate existence of any created
form is that given in the Risalat al-anwar when Ibn 'Arabi says, "let go and occupy yourself
with dhikr (the remembrance of God) and take refuge at the side of the Remembered"(47).
The importance of dhikr , invocation or remembrance, in retreat is fundamental. The heart's
emptiness of any worldly concern and its total preoccupation with the Real is reflected in Ibn
'Arabi's opening remarks in the chapter of the Futuhat which is devoted to retreat when he
states that the principle of retreat is in the Holy Saying, "Whoever remembers Me in
themselves, I remember them in Myself and whoever remembers Me in company, I remember
them in a Company better than theirs" (48). This, Ibn 'Arabi says, is an established Divine
Saying which contains the notions of both retreat and society (khalwa and jilwa.). The
remembrance of God in oneself corresponds to retreat and gives a sense to retreat as prayer
or meditation, as well as the invocation of God by Name: a time set aside exclusively for the
remembrance of God. Insofar as "prayer is a contemplation," Ibn 'Arabi says, and "a secret call
exchanged between God and his adorer ; it is then also an invocation (dhikr)" and "whoever
invokes God finds himself in the presence of God" (49) which is re-establishing the unified
state. The return to the quiet centre, empty and totally receptive, is the return to the void in
which creation takes place. There in the emptiness of the heart the Beauty of Oneness may be
witnessed.
According to the Quran (Q.13:28), 'Only in the remembrance of God do the hearts find
satisfaction and tranquillity' (il bi-dhikr allh tatma'inna al-qulb). This total occupation with
God protects the one who remembers from wordly concerns and absolves him from guilt and
blame so that he is brought into the closeness of God's remembrance. In this remembrance,
God remembers His own Self in Himself, so that all otherness disappears.
The confident heart which is in repose and at peace with itself, is invited to return to its Lord
and find sanctuary in Him, in the call, "O soul at peace, return to your Lord, content, accepted,
enter amongst My servants and enter My paradise" (Q.89:27-30). Paradise, Ibn 'Arabi explains
in the chapter on Ishmael in the Fusus al-hikam, is what God veils Himself with, since the
word for paradise derives from the same root as covering. He continues "and what is My
paradise other than you, and it is you by your self that covers Me (which is My mystery)... if
you have entered [God's] paradise you have entered your self"(50). The knowing servant sees
that he both veils the Lord and is the place of manifestation for his Lord. Whilst everyone is
accepted by their Lord at one level, the address is to that potential in everyone to agree to the
total Lordship which goes beyond the narrow confines of a particular manifestation. Rather, the

Lordship that his heart acknowledges frees it from limitation, so that it becomes a place of
total manifestation of the Lordship. In this way, God may be known and witnessed in that
unlimited place and fulfils the purpose of creation. The commentatory of this text attributed to
Ismail Hakki Bursevi responded to this line, "if you have entered His paradise you have
entered your self", with the following poem:
And He never stops agreeing to us with all His Love, And His passion never fades from being
all-loving affection. He forbids me separation from Him and necessitates My joining Him
without possibility of distance or closeness. (51)
From this point of intimacy with the Real, there is nowhere which is not encompassed by Love.
There is nowhere to retreat from or to, since God's presence is seen everywhere. The heart
which is empty of otherness is filled with God, for it has a largeness and generosity capable of
receiving Reality in whatever form it reveals itself. The possessor of such a heart is of those
who "are not veiled from the witnessing of the Beauty of Oneness by the witnessing of the
plurality of the images of this world and the other world" (52). Such a heart is not bounded or
constricted by desires for anything other than the Essence Itself which is free, and being large
enough for the Real, it is also large enough for what the Real One has created in Himself (53).
"God has made it clear," Ibn 'Arabi says, "that He is in every direction turned to" (54) when he
said, "Wheresover you turn, there is the face of God" (Q.2:115) and not defining it in any way,
it is always Him and His Ipseity". The commentator of the Fusus explains, "He meant that
when you look at the things of the world, go on seeing His Ipseity and do not for a moment be
unaware of His Ipseity. Yet there are times of delusion while you are busy with the things of
this world, which means at the moment of non-seeing of Reality and the non-awareness of the
Ipseity in your heart, you can be taken away, die, in that moment.... Therefore it is necessary
in every moment of wakefulness [or vision], one must be facing Him, until in one's heart,
there is the quietude of one's awareness that, whatever one does, consciously or not, all will
be directed to Him...." (55).
I would like to finish by reciting the verses which Ibn 'Arabi composed at the beginning of the
chapters on retreat in the Futht:
I withdrew with He whom I love passionately, and there was no one but us,
for if there had been another than me, the retreat would not have been one.
When I imposed on my soul the conditions of her seclusion,
the souls of the creatures all at once became her slaves!
But if there were not in her an Other than herself,
my soul would have made a gift of herself to He who overwhelms her with His gifts.
(56)

Notes
1.

Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi, Kernel of the Kernel, Beshara Publications -Sherborne, 1981, p.
14

2.

See Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge, Albany, NY, 1989, p.158

3.

See Ibn 'Arabi, Futuhat al-Makkiyyah, notably Chapters 78, 79 and 205

4.

Ibn 'Arabi, Journey to the Lord of Power , translated by Rabia Terri Harris, New York,
1981

5.

Unpublished manuscript (MS Bayazid, 1686, fos. 6b-11)

6.

Hilyat al-abdal, Hyderabad 1948, translated into French by M. Valsan with the title "La
parure des abdal" in Etudes traditionelles, nos. 286-7, Sept.-Oct., and Nov. 1950.

7.

To depend on secondary causes is to depend on something which appears to be other

then the First Cause or God (e.g. God is the only provider of nourishment, however
many intermediate means or secondary causes may apparently be involved in food
reaching our mouths.)

8.

See Chittick, The Sufi Path, pp. 44-46 for a fuller explanation of secondary causes.

9.

Ibn 'Arabi, Risalat al-anwar, extract transl. by M. Chodkiewicz in Seal of the Saints,
Cambridge, 1993, p.151-2

10. See C. Addas, Quest for the Red Sulphur, Cambridge, 1993, p. 35
11. See Ibid., p. 39
12. R. Austin, Sufis of Andalusia, London, 1971, p.
13. See Addas, Quest, p.38
14. See Lings, Muhammad, London, 1983, p.43
15. Chittick, The Sufi Path, p.158
16. Ibid.
17. Futuhat, chapter 78. See Michel Valsan's translation into French in Etudes
Traditionelles, no. 412-13, March-June 1969, p. 83
18. Chittick, The Sufi Path,, pp. 158-9
19. Ibn 'Arabi, Wird, publ. Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, London, 1979
20. Dom Sylvester Houedard, Commentaries on Eckhart Sermons, publ. The Beshara
Trust, Chisholme, undated, p.42
21. Wird, Tuesday morning prayer.
22. Chittick, The Sufi Path, p.158
23. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fusus al-hikam, rendered into
English by B. Rauf, 4 vols., Oxford, 1986-91, p. 825
24. See Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, trans. R. A. Nicholson, London, 1978, p.53
25. Wisdom of the Prophets, (extracts from Ibn Arabi's Fusus al-hikam translated into the
French by Titus Burckhardt and into the English by Angela Culme-Seymour, Beshara
Publications 1974, p. 69
26. See Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fusus al-hikam, p.686
27. Ibid., p. 683
28. See Seal of the Saints, M. Chodkiewicz, Cambridge, 1993, p.149
29. Les Illuminations de la Mecque/The Meccan Illuminations, ed. M. Chodkiewicz, Paris,
1988, p. 277
30. Ibid.
31. Futuhat, chapter 78. (Etudes Traditionelles, p. 83)
32. Bulent Rauf, Addresses, Beshara Publications, 1986, p.20
33. Cf. Les Illuminations de la Mecque/The Meccan Illuminations, p. 278
34. Ibid., p. 275

35. Ibn Sawdakin, Kitab was'il al-s'il , ed. M. Profitlich, Freiburg, 1973. Passage
translated by Stephen Hirtenstein in the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society Newsletter,
Spring 1997, p.2
36. Ibn 'Arabi, Al-Istilah al-Sufiyyah, translated by Rabia Terri Harris in Journal of the
Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Vol. III, 1984, p. 45
37. Ibid., p.39
38. Futuhat, chapter 78. (Etudes Traditionelles, p. 80)
39. See Chittick, The Sufi Path, p. 125
40. Ibid., p. 127
41. Ibid.,p. 132
42. Ibid., p. 128
43. Ibid., p. 126
44. Ibn Sawdakin, Kitab was'il al-s'il , loc. cit.
45. Futuhat, chapter 78. (Etudes Traditionelles, p. 78)
46. Journey to the Lord of Power, p. 29
47. The Twenty-Nine Pages: An Introduction to Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi's Metaphysics of
Unity, The Beshara School, undated, p.14
48. Journey to the Lord of Power, p.39
49. Futuhat, chapter 78. (Etudes Traditionelles)
50. Wisdom of the Prophets, p. 127-8
51. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fusus al-hikam, p. 485
52. Ibid.
53. Ibid., p. 45
54. See ibid., p. 447
55. Ibn 'Arabi, The Bezels of Wisdom, translated by R. Austin, New York, 1980, Chapter on
Hud, p.138
56. Ismail Hakki Bursevi's translation of and commentary on Fusus al-hikam, p. 578

57. Futuhat, chapter 78. (Etudes Traditionelles)

Listening for God: Prayer and the Heart in the

Futht
Part 1
"Surely there is a Reminder in that for whoever has a heart, or listens
attentively, while he is witnessing..." (Qur'n 50:37)
This Qur'anic verse beautifully summarizes a sort of recurrent paradox that has surely puzzled
every student of Ibn 'Arab from time to time. One need only recall, for example, his classic
discussion of the "Wisdom of the Heart" of the true spiritual Knowers (the 'uraf') in the
central chapter on Shu'ayb in his Fuss al-Hikam, where this same verse figures so
prominently. If, from the wider metaphysical point of view so well illustrated in that famous
chapter, it may be true that all human perception, all experience is ultimately "theophany," it is
even more indisputably true - as his distinction in that chapter between those rare enlightened
"Knowers" and the rest of humanity pointedly acknowledges - that we don't usually experience
things that way, that for many of us there is a noticeable gulf in our lives between rare
moments of true contemplative prayer and our ordinary states of perception. And that gulf
often seems too much to bridge by our own efforts, whether of prayer or other forms of
spiritual practice: if we have some intuition of what the inner life of the Shaykh's "Knowers"
might be like, it is probably based on a few special moments of grace, on a memorable but
ephemeral "state" (hl), not a lasting, fully realized spiritual "station" (maqm).
Put simply, then, what is it about the "heart" - or rather, how is it? - that can so miraculously
transform perception into contemplation, everyday experience into theophany, the words and
movements of ritual into the ineffable reality of prayer? As the Qur'an repeatedly insists, each
of us surely has "had a heart" - but what is it that so rarely and unforgettably makes that
heart "shahd," actively and consciously contemplating the Truly Real, so that our transient
awareness is transformed into true prayer and remembrance of God? That transformation of
everyday experience into realized theophany, whenever and however it occurs, is always a
mysterious divine "opening" (fath) or illumination, so it is not surprising that Ibn 'Arab's most
detailed and effective discussions of that central question of spiritual practice are scattered
throughout the record of his own "Meccan Openings" (al-Futht al-Makkya). Before
beginning to explore his unfolding discussion of the secrets of prayer and the heart in the
opening chapters of the Futht, however, it is necessary to summarize a few essential
features of the broader development of this problem in the Qur'an and the hadith, since that
basic scriptural background, as always, is presumed throughout the Shaykh's own teachings.
I. The Heart in the Qur'an and Hadith:
To begin with, it would be difficult to exaggerate either the centrality or the complexity of the
references to the "heart" throughout the Qur'an in this extended metaphysical and
epistemological sense, as the locus of our awareness - and even more frequently of our
ignorance - of the divine Presence. The Arabic noun, al-qalb, appears some 132 times (only
two or three of these possibly referring to the bodily organ), far more than such closely related
terms as fu'd or lubb/albb (both occurring sixteen times). The contrast between the Qur'anic
treatment of the heart and the discussion of any number of related terms or roots - such
as sadr ("breast"), 'aql ("intellect"), nafs (in the sense of "soul"), sarra, etc. - only serves to

highlight the epistemological comprehensiveness and peculiarly divine focus of this particular
Qur'anic expression. Typically enough, Ibn 'Arab's own widely scattered discussions of the
"heart," when we look at them more closely, turn out to be dictated not so much by various
earlier Islamic traditions (which had developed multiple technical meanings for each of these
terms) as by his own profound reflection and meditation on the full complexities of the original
Qur'anic usage. Here we can only mention a few central features of the Qur'anic discussions of
the "heart" that are directly related to the problem with which we began, and which are
usually assumed each time Ibn 'Arab brings up that term.

The Qur'an repeatedly emphasizes God's extraordinary closeness and proximity to the
human heart (e.g., at 8:24, "He passes between the man and his heart"), as well as the
uniquely all-encompassing divine knowledge of "what is in their hearts" (4:66, 33:51, etc.).

That divine awareness of what is in the heart extends in particular to people's

innermost intentions (especially in contrast to their words and ostensible actions). That is one
important indicator, along with each of the following points, that considerably more than
abstract "epistemology" is involved here: from the Qur'anic perspective a spiritually crucial
dimension of the human heart is the integral involvement - together with God - of our own
"will" and intimate intentions, which are portrayed as somehow inseparable from the degree
and nature of our awareness of the divine. In consequence, the Qur'an can even speak of the
heart (as more commonly of the soul, al-nafs) as the enduring "self" or ongoing seat of our
moral and spiritual responsibility, as at 2:225: "...He will call you to account for what
your hearts have earned...."

Perhaps most obvious of all in the Qur'an is the consistent stress on the divine
"responsibility", indeed the ongoing divine Activity, expressed in all the different states of our
hearts, including especially our recurrent failures to "remember" God. In this respect, as
those familiar with the Qur'an will recognize, the larger metaphysical "paradox" with which we
began this discussion is certainly not, to begin with, Ibn 'Arab's own invention: almost half of
the Qur'anic references to the heart directly mention God's responsibility for its states, often
without any explicit reference to the shared role of the human "actor."

In several famous Qur'anic passages, repeated throughout Sufi literature and in

popular piety, the enlightened or divinely supported heart (whether in this world or the next)
is said to be the locus of true Remembrance of God (dhikr Allh, at 13:28) and the grace of
divinely bestowed Peace and Tranquillity, as well as the receptacle for the sending down of the
Spirit and Gabriel and other special acts of divine support. But the Qur'anic references to
these special states of enlightened hearts are limited to what in context usually seems like a
very small and elect group: Muhammad and other divine prophets, certain of their disciples or
saints, or some of the blessed in the Gardens of Paradise...

With far greater frequency, the Qur'an refers instead to God's sealing, veiling,
hardening, locking, binding, closing, or frightening hearts - to hearts that as a result (of their
own misdeeds or the divine reaction) are "sick" or "blind" and "suffering." Typical of this
disproportionate emphasis are the many references to hearts that "fail to understand" (l
yafqahn), far more frequently than those who do perceive the divine "Signs," whose hearts
are 'qiln. In the Qur'an, therefore, the starkly contrasting dimensions and potentialities of
the human heart with which we began are, if anything, even more predominant and vividly
drawn. The Qur'anic account of the heart and its situation is repeatedly cast in an intensely
dramatic and unavoidably existential form. That intrinsic inner drama is certainly presupposed
in each of Ibn 'Arab's own discussions of the heart, whatever the particular language or
context of each discussion.

Against that sharply drawn dramatic backdrop, the Qu'ranic verses that indicate the
actual ways or conditions for us to move from these "negative" or perverse states of the
human heart to full awareness of God and the corresponding divine Peace and understanding
are relatively few, but certainly all the more worth noting: these practically decisive verses
include references to the "softening" and "humbling" or "purification" and "strengthening" of
hearts, to the necessity of a "sound" or "repentant" or "mindful" heart (qalb salm or munb),
and so on.
Unlike the case with many topics in the Futht, the Prophetic sayings or hadith favored by
Ibn 'Arab in his discussions of the heart are short and to the point. (This is partly because, as
we shall see, the Shaykh's allusions to the "purification" of the heart frequently occur in
connection with more concrete, practical aspects of Islamic law and ritual.) As readers of any
of the Shaykh's works are well aware, each of these hadith typically serves as a highly
condensed, pedagogically pointed summary of many related verses and concepts in the
Qur'an. Almost all of these particular hadith were already widely used within earlier Sufi
tradition, and several of them should already be familiar to readers of the Fuss and other
English translations of Ibn 'Arab's writings. However, reflecting on the inner connections of
those sayings when they are viewed together, in the following summary, helps to highlight not
only their thematic density and mnemonic effectiveness, but also their relatively greater
emphasis (compared with the above-mentioned Qur'anic verses about the heart) on the crucial
dimensions of spiritual practice and realization.

"The heart of the person of faith is between two of God's Fingers." This canonical
hadith is depicted as the response to Aisha's asking the Prophet whether he was ever afraid.
This beautifully succinct image concretely pulls together dozens of the Qur'anic verses we
have just mentioned, powerfully representing the constant ups-and-downs of our inner
experience, the contrasting roles of the different divine Names of Majesty and Beauty
(Jall and Jaml) expressed and realized through that experience, the "ever-renewed
theophanies" of those Names, and the reality of God's ultimate control of that panoply of
ever-changing inner states.

Perhaps the most frequently cited saying about the heart in all of the Shaykh's works
is the famous canonical hadth quds (one in which the divine Voice speaks in the first person,
as in the Qur'an): "My earth and My heaven do not encompass Me, but the heart of My
servant who has faith does encompass Me..." (Often this was summarized by Sufis in the
briefer formula "The heart of the person of faith is the Throne of the All-Merciful": Qalb almu'min 'arsh al-Rahmn.) Ibn 'Arab's own understanding of either of these sayings is of
course inseparably related to the famous hadith that figures so prominently in the opening
chapter of the Fuss and throughout the Shaykh's writings, describing Adam's being created
"according to the form of the All-Merciful" ('al srat al-Rahmn).

"Hearts rust like iron, and their polishing is through remembrance of God (dhikr Allh)
and recitation of the Qur'an."

"Were it not for the excess of your talking and the turmoil in your hearts, you would
see what I see and hear what I hear!"

"O Transformer of hearts (y muqallib al-qulb), keep my heart firm in Your Religion."

"My eyes are sleeping, but my heart is awake."

"(True spiritual) Knowledge is a light that God projects into the heart of the Knower."

"Seek the guidance (istaft: 'ask for the fatw') of your heart, even if it guides you
toward al-maftn (what enthralls or charms you)."

Listening for God: Prayer and the Heart in the Futht

Part 4

IV. THE "SECRETS OF PURIFICATION" (Chapter 68):

The next discussions of the Heart in the Futht are in the lengthy chapter 68 on the "Secrets
of Purity" (asrr al-tahra), where dimensions of spiritual "purification" are raised more than
twenty times, usually in implicit or explicit connection with prayer (the subject of the even
longer following chapter). Many of Ibn 'Arab's points there about realizing the contemplative
potential of the heart are both brief and exceedingly practical even for the uninitiated reader,
while others are astonishingly subtle and far-reaching in their implications. Within this article
we can highlight or summarize only a few of the most important of those passages. To begin
with, Ibn 'Arab points out (V, 148-49) that
"the divine knowledge received directly from God's Presence through revelation ('ilm ladunn
ilh mashr') has a single taste - even if the places where it is drunk may differ, they do not
differ in being good: and whether it is good or better, it is all pure, without any corruption...
For the prophets and saints and everyone who informs us from God all say the same thing of
God...not differing among themselves, and confirming one another - just as the pure rain from
the sky is not different when it falls.
So let the foundation of your purification of your heart be with water like this - with nothing
but knowledge known through divine revelation (shar'), which has been likened to
rainwater. ... then your own essence and your purification (of it) will be like that spring from
which water flows forth. And if you should differentiate sweetness or saltiness (in what is
claimed to all be 'revealed' rainwater), then know that your perceptions are sound! This is a
topic to which I have not found anyone alluding. And yet the person who eats sugar knows its
sweetness like that, and knows that there is something wrong with the bitterness of aloes:
they don't need a "rational proof" (dall 'aql) (to recognize the difference)! Now I have
definitely pointed this out to you, so take my indication to heart - and watch out!
Now that that is established, my friend, start employing the forms of knowledge given by the
revelation (shar') in (purifying) your own essence, and use the knowings of the saints and the
true Knowers who took them from God in your own spiritual exercises and spiritual efforts and
exertions, refraining from the excesses (i.e., the desires) of the bodily members and the
promptings of the egoistic self (the nafs) For if you cannot distinguish between those waters
(i.e., which are truly pure and divinely revealed, and which polluted by human interference),
then know that something is wrong with your nature, that it has somehow been corrupted. In
that case we can do nothing for you, except that God may help you, through His
Lovingmercy."
It should not be necessary to underline the continued practical relevance of his remarks here,
or the way they apply equally to every religious tradition. This innate human awareness of the
right course of spiritual action, Ibn 'Arab continues (V, 165-71), is a "purification" that is
religiously obligatory
"...for every responsible-rational person (every 'qil, in the legal sense of that term). For that
person is the one who understands from God ('an Allh) what they are ordered and prohibited,
and what God gives to them in their innermost being; they are the person who is able to
distinguish, among the inner promptings of their heart, what comes from God and what from

their egoistic self (nafs), what from the touch of an angel or the touch of a devil: and that is
the fully human being (al-insn)! So if someone reaches that degree in their spiritual
awareness (ma'rifa) and their discernment, and understands from God what He wants from
them, and truly hears God's saying that 'the heart of My servant encompasses Me': then it is
obligatory for that person in this situation to use this (awareness) in purifying their heart and
every other member connected with it, in the way God intends..."
Therefore, the Shaykh concludes (V, 166), this inner purification and discernment are an
obligation for every single responsible human being, whether or not they've even heard of the
historical forms of religion:
"Our own way of proceeding (our madhhab) is that all people in general - whether they are
among the people of faith, or kufr, or inner hypocrites - are 'addressed' (mukhtabn: spoken
to directly by God in their hearts) regarding the Sources of the divine Way (the shar'a, in its
root sense) and its branches, and that they are all held responsible at the Day of the Rising."
"For us," he explains further on (V, 320-22), "purification itself is an independent act of
devotion." Indeed for Ibn 'Arab, as we have already seen, it is in a way the ultimate root and
aim of every act of worship. From the traditional legal point of view, of course, "it may also be
the condition for properly performing another act of worship and devotion, either an essential
condition or one necessary for its proper performance, while for another act of devotion it may
be only 'preferable' or part of the Prophet's personal example (mustahabb or sunna)."
"The inner spiritual grounds (hukm al-btin) for that," he continues, "is that the purification of
the heart is a precondition for our intimate converse (munjat) with God or for our
contemplating Him - a condition that is at once both obligatory (or 'essential') and necessary
for the proper realization (of that spiritual intimacy and true contemplation)." "Sometimes," he
adds,
"spiritual knowing may be an essential condition for the soundness of our faith in a matter.
And sometimes faith in turn may be an essential condition as well as a necessary condition for
assuring the soundness of our knowing through experiential 'unveiling.' However in faith there
is the purification of the heart from being veiled (from God's presence), while (spiritual)
knowing purifies the heart from ignorance and doubt and pretension. So purify your heart with
both of those purifications (of faith and of knowledge): you will rise high, through that, in both
the worlds, and through it you will attain the knowledge of the 'Two Handfuls' (of human souls
destined to suffering or bliss)."
And he concludes: "As for the inner spiritual judgment (hukm al-btin) concerning all of this,"
the Shaykh concludes, "we say that every prescribed religious action that is not preceded by
this purification through faith is unsound because of this lack of faith. Therefore faith is
necessary for every religious action."
In his ensuing discussion (V, 341-44) of the purifications appropriate to the pilgrim visiting the
Kaaba - whether that "pilgrimage" be inward or outward - Ibn 'Arab makes two points that are
very simple, but practically of the utmost importance. The first concerns the proper inner
attitude to have in our relations with all the other creatures, which is the full realization of the
virtue of ihsn - of "seeing God" and the divine Presence through and with all things:

"Now spiritual purification (tahrat al-btin) - which is (purification of) the heart is through
liberating ourselves (from all attachments other than God), in order to seek (His) friendship.
And there is no (true) friendship and closeness with God except through freeing yourself from
the creatures, insofar as you used to consider them (only) in light of their relation to yourself
(to your ego or nafs) and not through God (and the realization of Hisaims in their regard)."
The Shaykh's second point is made in regard to the spiritual experience of the pilgrim with
regard to the "treasure" and blessing and guidance that the Prophet has mentioned as being
reserved for those visiting the "House (or Temple: al-bayt) of God":
"So consider the one who comes to circumambulate (the Kaaba), when he has turned to his
heart after going around (the House). If he finds an 'increase' in his awareness of his Lord and
a 'clear indication' (from God) that he did not have before, then he knows from that that he
has properly carried out his purification for entering Mecca. But if he finds none of that (in his
heart), then he knows that he has failed to purify himself, did not come to his Lord, and so did
not (truly) go around His House. For it is impossible that anyone should come to stay with a
noble and wealthy host, entering into his house, and yet not experience his hospitality! ...If
such a person 'came close' (to God's House), they only came close to the rocks, not to the
Essence (or the Source: al-'ayn) - May God place us among the possessors of hearts, the
people of God and those close to Him!"
This process of inner purification obligatory for all worship and devotion, Ibn 'Arab constantly
reiterates, is always changing and always essential (V, 349):
"The purification of the heart (is obligatory) so that it may be joined with its Lord, and so that
its spiritual aspiration may be joined in intimate converse (munjt) with Him through the
raising of the veil from (the servant's heart). ...So it is necessary for anyone who is seeking
this state (of the heart's intrinsic intimacy with God) to purify themselves with a special
purification. Indeed I say that every state of the servant with God requires its own special
purification..."
At this point (V, 346-47) Ibn 'Arab adds a special warning, but one which also highlights his
typical reliance on the actual consequences of spiritual effort - and the sensitivity of each
individual's heart - in overcoming these recurrent dangers of the Path:
"Now the guardians (the bawwbs of the heart) may sometimes be sleeping or distracted, so
that the secret promptings (khawtir) of the carnal souls and the devils find nothing to keep
them from entering that person's heart. In that case, when that person says 'Labbayk!' ['Here
I am, Lord!', the traditional pilgrim's call] with their tongue, imagining that they are coming in
response to the call of their Lord, they are only responding to the prompting of their
own nafs or of a devil calling to them in their heart."
And Ibn 'Arab goes on to describe the glee of that ever-present impostor in thus fooling the
deluded seeker... "So 'If it were not for the Generosity of God and His Lovingmercy' through the tongue of our inner spiritual state (lisn al-btin wa-l-hl) and the spiritual
intention (nya) preceding that event," such a person who was imperfectly purified would
surely encounter the 'dire suffering' mentioned in that same verse (24:14). But in reality, as
he insists in another extraordinary passage of this same chapter, it is necessary to take a

much more comprehensive view of the providential divine "Caring" ('inya) and "Outwitting"
(makar) with regard to Iblis and the devils, a proof of God's Mercy and Grace that is ultimately
manifested precisely through the multitude of such memorable spiritual "mishaps" and
delusions that each person inevitably experiences over time.
This is why, Ibn 'Arab explains (V, 354-56), "it is necessary to purify the heart from the 'touch
of Satan'" - which he has elsewhere identified with the passion of blind anger, sakht - "when it
descends on the heart and touches the inner being of a person." And that purification of the
heart is through the 'touch of the angel,'" which is the manifestation of God's providential
Caring for the heart at that point.
"And if the hadith of God's 'Two Fingers' alluded to that (mysterious working of Grace and
divine Providence)," Ibn 'Arab continues, then "both of those Fingers are Lovingmercy
(rahma)...since if it were not for God's Lovingmercy for His servant through that touch of the
devil, the servant would never receive their reward for countering that prompting (of the
devil) and turning away from it to the work of the angel's touch (i.e., the experience of
repentance and divine Grace), so that the servant acquires two rewards (for the inner
struggle, and for the eventual repentance and right action). And that is why we say that God
attributed both (of those 'Two Fingers') to the Divine Name 'the All-Merciful' (al-Rahmn)."
This point, which has so often been treated as paradoxical or even heretical by later Islamic
critics of the Shaykh, in fact could not be more central to Ibn 'Arab's comprehensive
awareness of the processes of spiritual growth and transformation, on both the individual and
larger cosmic levels. For in a passage so long that it can only be summarized here, Ibn 'Arab
carefully points out how the devil always ends up accomplishing the exact opposite of what he
intended, as the results of his deception eventually push the servant to regret - "the greatest
of the pillars of repentance and return to God," as the Shaykh calls it - and then to true returning to God (tawba). Thus the "victim" of Satan
"has the reward of the shahd [here not only 'martyr,' but also the literal 'witness' of God's
Love and Mercy] because of the occurrence of that act (of turning to God) in him. And
the shahd (as confirmed by Qur'an and hadith alike) is alive, not dead - for what life could be
greater than the Life of hearts together with God, in whatever activity that may be?! For the
presence (of the heart) with faith, in the face of the opposition (of Satan), renders that action
alive with the Life of the (divine) Presence."
So this, Ibn 'Arab concludes (V, 356) , is again why both divine "Fingers" - although they
appear to us, in terms of our own dualistic feelings and judgments of our experience, as
diametrically opposed - are in fact equally instruments of God's Love and Mercy:
"If (the devil) knew that God was blessing the servant, through the devil's touch, with a
special sort of happiness, then he wouldn't have done any of that. But this is the divine
Cunning (makar Allh) through which He fools Iblis, and I have not seen anyone else allude to
that. And indeed were it not for my knowing Iblis and being aware of his ignorance and his
compulsion that drives him to counter (God), I too would not have alluded to this... But this is
what encouraged me to mention this, because the devil can never stop at those occasions (for
temptation) because of his veil, through his compulsion to make the servant suffer and his
ignorance that God is (always) turning (to forgive) the servant. For God always cunningly

deceives someone in such a way that they themselves fail to notice it, even if others are able
to see what is really happening!"
The preceding discussion highlights one of the active principles of spiritual life underlying one
of Ibn 'Arab's most straightforward and illuminating pieces of practical advice (V, 359-60)
regarding this ongoing purification of the heart and the way it transforms every single event of
our life, inner or outer, into a further occasion for discovering the secrets of our relationship
with God:
"Now the Knower finds in one of his spiritual states a contraction or expansion (qabd aw bast)
whose immediate cause (sabab) he does not know. And for the people of the Path this is
(always) a significant matter. For he knows that this (uncertainty as to the meaning of this
experience) is due to his unconsciousness or heedlessness (ghafla) with regard to carefully
observing his heart and his spiritual intention - and to his lack of spiritual insight (basra) in
grasping the inner correspondence of that state with the (spiritual) matter which that (divine)
Attribute caused him to experience. In that case what is incumbent on (the Knower) is
to surrender (taslm) to the eventual effects of the (divine) Decree, until he sees what that
gives rise to in the future.
But if the Knower recognizes (the inner reason for that particular experience), then he should
purify himself through being completely present with God in his knowledge of those
correspondences, so that he does not become unaware of what has come to him from God
through these 'sanctifying spiritual experiences' (wridt al-taqds) - so that he is not unaware
of which (divine) Name became (real) to him through that experience, and which Name came
to be through him, and which Name is actually influencing him at that instant, causing him to
call out for that experience. So these (spiritually "educational" dimensions of our experience
realized by the Knower, sooner or later) are three: the name that is calling (to the Knower),
the name that is called (into being) through him, and the name that is (at this instant) coming
over him. Of course there is no possible correspondence (of this sort) through which God, in
His Essence, might be (ultimately) circumscribed to us or through us..., But through His
Names we are connected (with Him), through those Names we take on His qualities, and
through them we become realized (or 'become transformed toward what is Real': natahaqqaq)
- and God makes this possible!"
The next set of allusions to the heart's "purification" in this chapter (V, 363-366) stands out in
every possible way from the discussions that surround it. The passage itself is almost certainly
an illustration of that quintessential spiritual teaching destined for the "elite of the elite" which
Ibn 'Arab, in a key passage of his Introduction, claims to have intentionally "scattered"
throughout the Futht. An adequate translation and commentary would require a separate
article, but the real difficulty, as one might expect of such a lesson, has nothing at all to do
with its language. The essential point clearly has something to do with overcoming spiritual
"dualism" - but at a fundamental level of depth and subtlety, and of necessarily personal and
nearly ineffable intensity, considerably more profound than in the passages we have just
discussed. The section begins with a discussion of distinctly spiritual qualities that, according
to Ibn 'Arab, require a complete bodily ablution (ghusl) - an act of purification that Islamic law
typically requires for very different types and circumstances of "impurity." Ibn 'Arab's
movement here beyond the received forms of Islamic law, which serve as at least the
ostensible point of departure for all of his other discussions of spiritual purification in the rest

of chapter 68, is already a dramatic sign of the unique character of this section. The largest
part of the passage, however, is a strange and in some ways metaphysically "comprehensive"
catalogue of spiritual or ontological states and qualities.
The chapter (or "Door": bb has both meanings) opens as follows:
"Now we have already established that janba (the technical legal term for a major ritual
impurity requiring the total bodily ablution) is ghurba (a state of 'exile,' 'estrangement,' or
'removal' from one's rightful place). And here that is the exile of the servant from his rightful
homeland which he deserves - and that is nothing but the state of pure servanthood
('ubdya). Or that (impurity) is the estrangement of an attribute of 'Lordship' from its rightful
homeland (in God), so that someone (wrongfully) ascribes it to themselves or uses it to
describe some contingent creature or another. Now there is no disputing that one must be
purified from this question.
So you must know that this single total ablution mentioned here in this chapter branches into
150 spiritual states, and that the servant, in his heart, must be completely purified from every
single one of those states. So we will mention to you the essence ('ayn) of each one of them,
if God wills, in ten sections, each section containing fifteen states, so that you will recognize
how you (should?) meet them when they occur to the heart of the servant. Because they must
inevitably occur to every heart, both of ordinary people and of the (spiritual) elite - and God
gives support and inspiration, there is no power but through Him!
While the adequate translation of this strange catalogue of spiritual states would be very long,
we can at least note that it includes a number of what would ordinarily be viewed as
"opposite" or contrary states (at least partially reminiscent of the lists of divine Names in the
hadith and elsewhere): e.g., this world and the other world, life and death, mercy and anger,
and so on, although the vast majority are of what would ordinarily be taken as positive and
even rarely achieved spiritual virtues. The catalogue, with no other explanation or
amplification, is followed by the following remarks:
"You must know - may God support us and You with a Spirit from Him! - that according to the
school (madhhab) of the people of God and His elite among the people of spiritual unveiling, it
is obligatory for every human being to completely purify their heart and their inner being from
everything that we have mentioned in these (ten) sections, as well as everything else each of
these spiritual states includes which we did not mention, for fear of being too long, There is no
dispute among the people of immediate spiritual experience ('tastings') concerning that. But
those who seek to purify themselves from most of them will need an abundance of difficult
knowledge concerning the proper ways to become purified from what we have mentioned; and
some of these states may serve as purifications from others!"
Later in the same chapter, Ibn 'Arab's explanation of the proper "times" for purification also
begins to move more openly beyond the ritual or legal contexts that are the usual occasion for
such discussions in this chapter, as in the following passage (V, 374):
"Now the purification of all things is with and through God (bi-l-Haqq). So if someone becomes
heedless of the (heart's primordial) witnessing (of God) and instead sees their self (or 'ego,'

the nafs) taking the different kinds of knowing that God is (always) causing to descend on the
heart, they must be purified because of their seeing their own ego-self (rather than God).
In the same way, if we should happen to encounter another person in a matter in such a way
that we teach them, either through our state or our words, and if that teaching flows from our
presence (with God), then no purification is necessary, for we have not left our state of purity
(with God). But if we should notice our own self (our nafs) in the process of teaching another
person through our words or our state, then purification is absolutely obligatory for us,
because of our noticing our self. For the people of God in this Path do everything that they do
with and through God, out of their witnessing and unveiling of and from Him..."
Of course the very awareness of this hidden "corruption" or unconscious hypocrisy, and our
corresponding need for purification, is itself a kind of gift of divine Grace, as Ibn 'Arab recalls
in this phenomenologically precise summary (V, 435):
"Therefore the 'time' or 'moment' of purification in the spiritual sense (fi-l-btin), for us, is
whenever one has specifically realized the (eternally unfolding) connection between the divine
'Address' to the person obligated by it (the mukallaf) regarding what is incumbent on them
both inwardly and outwardly. In spiritual terms, that is a divine Self-manifestation that
suddenly comes over their heart, which is called in the Path a 'surprise attack' (hujm)."
And finally, near the very end of this chapter (at V, 499), Ibn 'Arab restates everything as
simply as possible:
"For God sees nothing of the human being (al-insn) but the heart. So it is incumbent on the
servant that their heart should always and continually be pure, because it is the place God
sees in them."
V. CONCLUSION:
At this point we have followed Ibn 'Arab's lessons on the heart and contemplation as far as his
long chapter on the secrets of prayer (ch. 69), which would require several lengthy volumes to
translate into English. So it is fitting to conclude with what he says there (VI, 217-219) about
the puzzling Qur'anic verse (50:37) with which we began, in his discussion of the moments
of silence during the ritual prayer:
"...So it is obligatory for the servant, when he has finished reciting the verse (in prayer), to
"listen attentively, while he is witnessing" (50:37). Therefore (the person praying)
becomes silent, so that he can see what God is saying to him concerning that, as is only
appropriate behavior (adab) with God. For we must not interrupt someone who is speaking to
us, since that is only proper etiquette even in ordinary conversations - and God is far more
deserving that we should be that way with Him! ...That is how this matter remains between
the listener and the One speaking to him, so that the listener might gain benefit (from that
silent pure receiving in prayer). Know that kings do not take a person without proper adab to
sit with them, nor to converse with them at night, nor to be their intimate companion."

Listening for God: Prayer and the Heart in the Futht

Part 3

III. Unveiling the Heart (Chapters 3-54)

In chapter 3 (II, 105-107), in his first discussion of the famous hadith of "God's Two Fingers"
and the related prayer of the Prophet for the "Transformer of hearts" to "fix my heart in Your
Religion," Ibn 'Arab takes up a kind of "inspiration" and awareness of the heart that, if much
less spectacular, is also much closer to the actual reality of our moment-by-moment
experience: namely, the universal human awareness of moral realities, and the resulting
conflicts, judgments, and "tests" (to use the recurrent Qur'anic expression) that continually
occupy the theater of the Heart.
...God's 'turning over' (taqlb) of the hearts (6:110) is His creating in them our concern
with good and our concern with evil. So whenever the human being perceives the
conflict of these opposing inclinations (khawtir) in the heart, that is an expression of
God's 'turning over' the heart - and this is a kind of knowing that the human being
cannot keep from having...
Ibn 'Arab goes on to explain that the allusion to God's "Two Fingers" holding the heart, in the
well known hadith, refers "to the speed of its turning over between faith and ingratitude (to
God), with all that implies," and that the "duality" of the two Fingers likewise refers to the
opposing "inclinations toward good and evil" - although he hastens to add that an "unveiling"
reveals (in ways he explains considerably later ) that these "Two Fingers" are related to the
famous hadith concerning "both of God's Hands being 'Right' Hands", both instruments of the
all-encompassing divine Lovingmercy (Rahma).
In chapter 4, in the context of praising the special spiritual blessings and influences of Mecca,
Ibn 'Arab goes on to mention (at II, 120-24) a kind of "contemplation" and inspired
knowledge of the heart that is a bit less mundane, but still a remarkably powerful and
widespread experience for many individuals who today are often unaware of its deeper
religious roots and significance: the question of our sensitivity to the spiritual power of
sacredplaces:
One of the conditions for the person who knows through direct vision, who is master of
the stages and modes of witnessing the Unseen spiritual realities (mashhid al-ghayb),
is that they are aware that places have an influence on sensitive hearts... (Only the
individual entirely under the influence of their own perturbed inner state, the shib alhl, could fail to perceive this powerful difference in the spiritual intensity of being,
thewujd, of different places.) But as for the perfected person, the master of this
spiritual stage (shib al-maqm), they are able to discern this difference in the power of
places, just as God differentiates between them... What a difference there is between a
city most of whose buildings are the carnal passions (shahawt) and a city most of
whose buildings are (divine) Signs and Miracles! [Here Ibn 'Arab is probably alluding
more specifically to "cities" or spiritual communities of human hearts. He then goes on
to address directly his friend in Tunis, the Shaykh Mahdaw (for whom the
entire Futht was originally composed), and to remind him of his inexplicable
preference for spiritual retreat at a particular place in a cemetery of Tunis, where he felt

closer to the presence of al-Khdir ('Khezr') - and eventually encountered that ageless
initiatic figure.]
...Now my friend knows that this (power of spiritual places) is due to those who inhabit
that place, either in the present, such as some of the noble angels or the pious spirits
(jinn), or else through the spiritual intentions (himma) of those who used to inhabit
them and have passed on, such as (...the house of Ab Yazd al-Bastm, the prayerroom of al-Junayd ...) and the places of the Righteous (the Slihn) who have left
behind this abode, but whose influences have remained behind them, so that sensitive
hearts are influenced by them. This is also the cause for the influences that different
places of prayer have on the intensity of presence (wujd) of the heart - not the
number of their bricks! ...And whoever doesn't notice this difference in the spiritual
presence of their heart between the marketplace and the place of prayer is under the
influence of their passing hl, not the master of this spiritual station. ...Indeed your
intensity of presence (wujd) is according to your companions (julas'), for the spiritual
aspirations (himam) of one's companions have a tremendous influence on the heart of
the one who is there with them - and their intentions are according to their spiritual
ranks...
...So for us, the awareness of this matter, I mean the knowledge of the spiritual
influence of places and the sensitivity to its greater or lesser presence, is part of the
completion of the mastery of the Knower and the high dignity of that station, of the
Knower's responsibility for things and their faculty of spiritual discernment...
Of course this particular case is only one small part of the larger question of the spiritual
presence or awareness of the heart, and in chapter 12 (II, 346) Ibn 'Arab alludes to the
example and exemplar which underlies so much of his work:
Now (Muhammad) alluded to something which the people of God have put into practice
and found to be sound, and that is his saying: 'If it were not for your speaking too
much and the turmoil in your hearts, then you would have seen what I see and would
have heard what I hear!' For he was singled out for the rank of perfection (kaml) in all
things, including perfection in servanthood, so that he was the absolute servant (of
God).
...And Aisha said: 'the Messenger of God used to remember God in all of his states,' and
we have had an abundant inheritance from that. Now this (constant presence with God)
is a matter that specifically involves the inner dimension of the human being and our
'speech' (qawl), although things (apparently) contradicting that may appear in our
actions, as we have realized and verified with regard to this spiritual station - even if
that appears puzzling to someone who has no knowledge of the spiritual states.
Fortunately, although many of the forms or degrees of prayer and contemplation evoked by
Ibn 'Arab might appear at first glance to lie beyond the usual range of our experience or, in
some cases, even our most ambitious aspirations, he is also a master in evoking and

suggesting the fundamental role of the divine activity and the providential divine "Caring"
('inya) that constantly underlies every stage of this individual process of realization - not just
in an abstract, metaphysical terms, but often, especially in the Futht, in subtly practical
ways whose relevance and meaning only become clear to readers who are willing to approach
the work slowly and attentively in terms of its echoes and implications in their own experience.
His language for describing the phenomena of "grace" and the human-divine interactions, in all
their richness, are surely most fully developed in the hundreds of later chapters of
the Futht on the various spiritual stations, but chapter 24 (III, 178-79) marks one of his
first allusions to this practically central dimension of the problem that concerns us here:
"As for those hearts who are passionately in love (muta'ashshiqa) with the (divine)
'Breaths', since the treasuries of the animating spirits (of human souls) are in love with
the Breaths of the All-Merciful - because of this inner connection and correspondence
(between the divine Spirit and our souls) - the Messenger of God said: 'The Breath of
the All-Merciful is coming to me from the Yemen.' Because the animating spirit (that
gives life to our soul) is a (divine) "breath," and the Source of those breaths, for the
hearts that are in love with them, is the Breath of the All-Merciful which is from the
'Yemen,' for whoever has been taken from their true Homeland, separated from their
home and resting place: therefore (that Breath) contains release from (the hearts')
oppression and the removal of misfortunes. Which is why he also said: 'Surely God has
fragrant breaths (or 'breezes',nafahat), so go toward the fragrant breaths of your Lord!'
One of the Shaykh's most powerfully moving evocations of the soul's state of true prayer and
awareness of God is in his chapter 41, on the "People of the Night" - the "Night" in question
(based on complex allusions to a number of hadith and Qur'anic verses, as well as classical
Arabic love-poetry) being conceived here as the inner state of mutual intimacy and awareness
between the human lover and the divine Beloved, however and whenever that contemplative
state might occur. In this intimate, speechless dialogue within the heart, it is the divine "Voice"
that is speaking at first here (IV, 41-43), describing the inner reality of these "nocturnal"
prayers, the fully realized state of "recollection" (dhikr):
So I am the One reciting My Book to the person praying, through his tongue - and he is
the one who is listening, for that is My 'nighttime conversation' (musmirat). And that
servant is the one who is taking pleasure in My Speaking - such that if he stopped (to
ponder) the meanings (of what I am saying) he would be taken away from Me by his
thinking and reflection.
For what is essential for the servant here is to listen attentively to Me, to devote his
hearing entirely to what I am saying, until the point where I am actually the One in that
reciting - as though I were reciting it to him and making him listen to it - until I am the
One explaining My words to him, translating its inner meaning to him. That is My
nocturnal conversing with the servant, so that he takes his knowing directly from Me,
not from his own thinking or considerations.
For (the true Knower) is not distracted (from total attention to Me) by the mention (in
those Qur'anic words) of the Garden or the Fire, of the Accounting and Reviewing (of

our works at the Judgment), or of this world or the next. For that (accomplished divine
Knower) does not reflect on each verse with their intellect or investigate it with his own
thinking. Instead he only 'listens attentively' (alluding to the key verse at 50:37 with
which we began) to what I am saying to him, 'while he is witnessing' (Me), present
with Me, while I take upon Myself the responsibility for teaching him... In that way the
Knower realizes with complete certainty knowings which did not come from within
himself, since It was from Me that he heard the Qur'an, from Me that he heard Its
explanation and the commentary on Its meanings, what I meant by this or that
particular verse or chapter.
That is the Knower's proper adab with me, his carefully listening and paying heed to
Me. So if I seek them out for a nocturnal conversation concerning something, they
answer Me immediately with their presence and readiness, and their immediate
witnessing...
Indeed if the Dawn comes along and I have ascended upon the Throne ..., My servant
goes off to his livelihood and the company of his fellows. But I have already opened up
a 'Door' for him among My creatures, a Door between Myself and him through which My
servant sees Me and through which I see him - although the others don't notice that.
So I converse with My servant through his tongue, without his being aware of that. And
My servant receives (that spiritual instruction) from me 'with clear Insight' (12:108),
although those people don't know that and think that they are the ones who are talking
to him, even though (in reality) no one is speaking other than Me! They imagine that
My servant is answering them, when they are actually replying to no one but Me!
The final paragraph here of course recalls some of the metaphysical teachings most commonly
associated with Ibn 'Arab and his later interpreters, ideas which he most often develops in
connection with the hadith of the divine "transformation through the forms (of the creatures)"
and the celebrated hadith in which the spiritual virtue of ihsn ("right-and-beautiful-action")
and the ultimate goal of Religion is defined as "serving God as though you see Him." But this
divine speech from chapter 41, with its open identification of the heart as the open "Door"
linking God and the soul - and of the most "mundane" incidents of each person's everyday life
as priceless, entirely individual "private lessons" from God - throws a very different, less
"mystical" and much more practical and instructive light on that same teaching.
Ibn 'Arab's next discussion of the enlightened "heart," in chapter 43 (IV, 78-82) on the
"people of inner spiritual 'scrupulousness'," emphasizes even more strongly the importance of
carrying out this spiritual practice of realizing the divine Presence within all the testing
demands of social life in this world, but in complete secrecy, without leaving any opening for
the multiple forms of inner hypocrisy and potential corruption that are usually tied up, in any
culture, with any overt or distinctive personal focus on "spiritual" activities. And in fact the
Prophetic advice regarding this state that Ibn 'Arab quotes here, if one puts it into practice, is
likely to lead in directions somewhat different from any society's public expectations of
"religiosity":

Now since this was the inner state of the people of wara', they followed in their (daily)
matters and activities the ways of the common people, not letting them know that this
(inner scrupulousness and attentiveness) distinguished them from them, concealing
themselves behind the conventional arrangements in the world so that no special praise
is accorded the person who takes on those ways...;
Here the Shaykh goes on to explain that 'the people of God carefully avoid anything like' what
would cause them to be singled out for their piety or asceticism or good nature and the like.
He then asks his reader to
Ponder what (the Prophet) said about this spiritual station, teaching his intimates how
they should act in regard to it: 'Stop doing whatever disturbs you, and turn to what
does not disturb you!' And his saying: "Seek the guidance of your heart (istaft
qalbaka), even if it guides you toward what fascinates or tempts you (al-maftn).
These two hadith, which could certainly be interpreted (if taken in isolation) in order to justify
some of the notorious ways of the malmya or the nonconformist attitudes associated with
the ideal of the "rend" in Hafez's poetry, in fact offer some of the most useful and
straightforward - if also incredibly demanding and challenging - practical spiritual guidance one
could find anywhere in the Futht:
Thus (the Prophet) pointed them in the direction of their own hearts, because of what
he knew their hearts contained of the secret/mystery of God (sirr Allh), what their
hearts included (of that Secret) that is essential to realizing this spiritual station. For in
the hearts there is a special divine Care and Protection that is not perceived by any but
the people of attentive awareness (ahl al-murqaba), concealed for them there (in the
heart).
The people of this "Pure Religion" (39:3), Ibn 'Arab admits, almost inevitably become
recognized eventually as somehow peculiar - although most people do not at all suspect just
why they are so mysteriously "special." The particular example he chooses to give here, of the
conscientiousness of an anonymous sister of the famous early Baghdadi Sufi Bishr al-Hf,
revealed in a question she brought to the learned jurist Ahmad Ibn Hanbal, is a telling
illustration of the outwardly modest way of life the Shaykh has in mind. The key to this highest
level of conscientious spiritual practice, he again insists, is simply to begin applying these two
utterly straightforward sayings of the Prophet:
For he gave us the True Balance (al-mzn) in our hearts, so that our station might be
concealed from others, wholly devoted to God, in complete purity and sincerity, not
known by any but God and then His trusted companion: 'Is not the Pure Religion
(wholly) God's?!' (39:3) - since any other form of religion is inevitably corrupted
either by the promptings of the egoistic self (the nafs) or its concern with social
proprieties.
...So when the people of this spiritual station saw the Prophet's careful attention to
what is realized within the heart of the servant, what he said about it and what he

pointed out that the human being should do and should avoid by seeking to remain
concealed: (when they saw all that,) they put it into practice in order to realize that
(station), they followed that path, and they knew that the salvation we seek from the
Lawgiver is onlypossible through concealing our spiritual state. So he bestowed upon
them (the duty) to act according to that and to actively realize it.
Therefore the people of this station realized that this (earthly) abode is an abode of
concealment (for us as it is for God), and why God was not content in describing (His)
religion until He had qualified it as the "Pure and Sincere (Religion)" (al-dn alkhlis). So they sought a way in which they would not be corrupted by any form of
associating (any worldly motives with the pure service of God), so that they might
apply themselves to this place (i.e., life in this world) with just what it deserves, from
the point of view of proper adab, wisdom, and observing and following the law (shar').
Hence they veiled themselves from the ordinary people through the veils of scrupulous
piety (wara'), which the people don't even notice, since (for them) that is the outward
aspect of religion (zhir al-dn) and the received forms of knowledge. For if the people
of this spiritual station followed outwardly anything other than the commonly received
forms of religion they would stand out - and thereby end up accomplishing the opposite
of what they were seeking...
Yet if "the common people only notice these (anonymous saints) according to the usual
motives they have concerning them," he concludes, those who have realized this spiritual
station are already "being praised by God, by the holy divine Names, by the angels, by the
prophets and messengers, and by the animals and plants and minerals and everything that
sings God's praises. It is only the jinn and human beings (al-thaqalayn) who are entirely
unaware of them, except for those individuals to whom God may reveal their identity..." This
emphatic allusion to the necessary anonymity of the "Friends of God" (the awliy') is of course
a central theme in Ibn 'Arab's spiritual teaching, and one that is marvelously illustrated by his
anecdotes about his own personal encounters with such hidden saints throughout the Islamic
world, whether scattered in the Futht or, more accessibly in English, in the stories translated
in Sufis of Andalusia. However, from practical point of view, it might be even more revealing to
connect what Ibn 'Arab has said about such hidden saints, whether in those collected stories
or here in chapter 43, with his lesson on God's instruction of the heart (and His mundane
instruments of that teaching) in the immediately preceding excerpts from chapter 41. The
special effectiveness, and the deeper fascination, of this strange book - mirroring life itself lies in just such juxtapositions and hidden connections.
Since the external, visible path of these true "people of the heart," for Ibn 'Arab, ordinarily
comprises above all the "outward aspect of Religion" (zhir al-Dn), it is not surprising if much
of the rest of this opening section of the Futht is devoted to the inner secrets or mysteries
(asrr), the "heart-dimension," of the "Five Pillars," and especially of the ritual prayer (salt).
As the Shaykh points out in his next discussion of the heart, in chapter 47 (IV, 134-37):
Now there is no act of worship or devotion ('ibda) that God has prescribed for His
servants that does not have a special connection with a divine Name, or a divine Reality
implicit in that Name, which gives to (the person carrying out) that devotion what it

gives to the heart in this world...and in the other world. ...(In this world, those
corresponding 'gifts' of each Name to the heart include its specific) stations and forms
of knowing and awareness, and the divine Signs and manifestations of Grace (karamt)
included in its specific spiritual states...
Now God says that He converses intimately with the person praying [alluding to ch. 41
above], and He is Light (24:35), so He confides (in His servant in prayer) through His
Name 'The Light' (al-Nr) and no other. And just as Light drives away all darkness, so
the ritual prayer cuts off every other preoccupation, unlike the other acts (of devotion),
which do not involve letting go of everything other than God, as the ritual prayer does.
This is why prayer is called 'a light' [in the hadith 'Prayer is a light'], because in that
way God gives (the servant) the Good News that if he confides in God and entrusts
himself to Him through His Name 'The Light,' then He is alone with the servant and
removes every transient thing (kawn) in the servant's act of witnessing Him during
their intimate conversation...
Therefore every servant who is (outwardly) praying, but whose act of prayer does not
remove them from everything (other than God), is not truly praying, and that act of
prayer is not a Light for them. And anyone who is reciting (the verses of the Qur'an)
inwardly, within their soul, but who does not directly witness God's remembering them
within Himself, has not...really remembered God within their soul, because of the lack
of the right inner correspondence (between God and the receptive soul), due to what is
present there of things of this world, such as family and children and friends, or of the
other world, such as the presence of the angels in his thoughts... The inward state (of
presence and receptivity) of the servant praying must be such that none but their Lord
is intimately addressing them in their prayer and recitation, in their praises and
petitions (to God).
And Ibn 'Arab goes on here to multiply at length the inner conditions for experiencing the true
reality of salt. For as he points out, "Among the acts of devotion and worship ('ibdat) there
is none that brings the servant closer to the angelic spiritual stations of 'those drawn near to
God' (the muqarrabn), which is the highest station of the Friends of God - whether of angel
or Messenger or prophet or saint or person of faith - than the act of prayer." Lest one despair
of ever realizing - at least as something more than a memorable hl - such a true inner state
of prayer, the Shaykh immediately follows this description with another imagined speech of
God to his angels, a speech which underlines the extraordinary dignity and rarity of any
human achievement in this realm of prayer:
...For I have placed between this servant of Mine and the 'station of Proximity (to Me)'
(maqm al-qurba) many veils and immense obstacles, including the goals of the carnal
soul; sensual desires and passions; taking care of other people, property, family,
servants and friends; and terrible fears. Yet (My servant) has cut through all that and
continued to strive until he prostrated himself [clearly more than bodily motions are
involved in this sense of sujd] and drew near (to Me) and became one of
the muqarrabn. So look, O My angels, at how specially favored you are and at the

superiority of your rank, although I did not test you with these obstacles nor obligate
you to undergo their pains. And realize the rank of this servant, and give him all that he
is due for everything that he has undergone and suffered on his path (toward Me), for
My sake!

In chapter 50, on the "people of Hayra (spiritual 'bewilderment')" -

one of the highest spiritual stations for Ibn 'Arab, as we know - he returns to an even
closer phenomenological description of this state of the truly open and purified heart, in
an account whose conclusion recalls certain celebrated poems of John of the Cross. The
first part of that description (IV, 218-25), though, simply summarizes the process by
which any of the "people of spiritual unveiling" - as opposed to the followers of
intellectual reflection or of mere formal obedience (taqld) - set out to discover the
right divineanswer to their religious questions, arising from the recurrent fundamental
problem of applying or interpreting scriptural tradition:
So this group apply themselves vigorously to acquiring (the reality concerning)
something that has come down in the divine reports from the side of God (al-Haqq),
and they begin by 'polishing their hearts through acts of dhikr and the recitation of the
Qur'an' (as specified in the famous hadith), by emptying the receptacle (of their hearts)
from all inquiry about contingent things, and through the presence of careful
attentiveness (to the inner state of their hearts, murqaba) - along with observing the
purity of their outward action through following the limits set by revelation... (Such a
person seeking inspiration) turns their thoughts completely from their self (nafs), since
that (turning away) disperses their worries, and remains alone carefully attending to
their heart, at the Door of their Lord. Then when God opens up this Door for the
possessor of such a heart, they realize a divine Self-manifestation (or
'theophany': tajalli) that is in accordance with their inner condition. And through that
(inspiration they realize) the relation of something to God that they would never have
dared to risk relating to God before and would never have even attributed to God...
[unless that were already reported by the divine prophets, in which case they still could
only have accepted it on faith]. But now that person applies that (newly revealed aspect
of the divine) to God as verified and realized knowing, because of what was revealed to
them through that divine Self-manifestation.
But this sort of "extra-ordinary" experience of divine illumination is only the first step toward
the spiritual state of "Bewilderment":

For after the first such Self-manifestation (the

person experiencing such an unexpected revelation of God's nature or activity in the world)
imagines that they have reached their goal and accomplished the matter, and that there is
nothing to be sought beyond that except for that (revelatory state) to continue. But then
another Self-manifestion occurs to them, with still another quality and implication (hukm)
unlike that of the first - even though the (divine Reality) manifesting Itself is undoubtedly the
same, in the same position as in the first case. After that still other Self-manifestations follow
one another for that person, with their different implications, so that through this (ongoing
revelation) the person comes to know that this matter has no end at which it might stop. Only
then do they realize that they have not perceived (or 'attained') the divine Ipseity (innya),
and that the divine Essence (huwya) cannot be made manifest to them, in that it is the
Spirit(the rh)of every theophany. So that person's'bewilderment' increases, but there is great

pleasure in it...[which, Ibn 'Arab hastens to add, is totally unlike the different and quite
frustrating "perplexity" of our intellect that is called by the same name]. People like this have
been raised above the contingent things (akwn), so that they witness nothing but (God), and
He is the object of their witnessing... Their state of 'bewilderment' only grows more intense,
and (because of the intensity of the satisfaction associated with it) they only seek to continue
experiencing those successive Self-manifestations...
Perhaps such a description, as is not infrequently the case with Ibn 'Arab, may seem to apply
to a state of the contemplating heart almost unimaginably beyond anything we might consider
possible in our own experience. But as always, the Shaykh returns to this subject from another
perspective which may suggest that the fruits of such inspiration are in fact not so far removed
from things we have already realized, if we can only make the essential connection (the
mysterious "correspondence") between his concepts here and the corresponding spiritual
phenomena. His next extended discussion of the heart, in chapter 54 (IV, 268-77) on the
"Allusions" (ishrt) and technical vocabulary of the Sufis, is a striking illustration of that kind
of unexpected connection - and of the fundamental role of individual "preparedness" and
(humanly) inexplicable spiritual "aptitudes" in the realization of everything discussed in
the Futht:
One of the most astonishing things about this Path(of the people of God),and
something that is only found here, is the fact that there is no other group bearing a
kind of knowledge - whether the logicians, grammarians, mathematicians,
geometricians, theologians or philosophers - who do not also have a technical
vocabulary that the novice among them does not know except by frequenting a master
or another one of them: that is necessarily the case. Except for the unique case of the
people of this Path, when a sincere seeker (murd) enters among them who does not
know anything at all about their technical terminology: indeed this phenomenon is
precisely what allows them to know that person's spiritual sincerity (sidq). For if God
has already opened the eye of that seeker's understanding and that person has (truly)
taken the beginning of their spiritual 'tasting' from God, then that person will sit down
among them and speak with them using their terminology in the special way that no
one else knows but them - even though that person knew nothing before about the
special expressions of the people of God! For that sincere spiritual seeker understands
everything that they are talking about, just as though that person were actually the one
who had decided upon those technical expressions; and that seeker (immediately) joins
them in using that language, without feeling any strangeness about doing so - indeed
that person feels that the knowledge of these expressions is immediately self-evident
and unavoidable. It is as though they had always known that language, without
knowing how they ever came to acquire it.

Ibn 'Arab's allusion here to the vast extent of the "unconscious" or ordinarily
unarticulated spiritual knowing and awareness of the heart that is often taken for granted
precisely by those who most obviously possess it is a phenomenon that everyone has
probably encountered at one time or another, and not only in the history of religions.
void with their Sustainer; and Wrath is upon them, and theirs is an intense torment. (42:16)

Respond fully to your Sustainer, before there comes from God a Day that cannot be warded
off... (42:47)
III. Related Hadith [9]
'Whoever responds to the greeting (salm), that is (counted) for him; and whoever does not
respond, that is against (the person who fails to respond).'
'The noble one, even if he is called to the taunting of the north wind, still responds.'
'Whoever responds to Him [or: him?] enters the Garden...'
'If he calls upon Me, I respond to him...'
'Even if I were languishing in prison, ...I would respond to the one who calls...'
'Even if I were called to an arm or a leg, I would respond...'
'Whenever they are called, they respond.'
'So whichever of them calls upon you (for help), receive that from them and refrain (from
harming) them.'
'The Messenger of God used to respond (even) to the calling of the slave (mamlk).'
'Whoever does not respond to the call disobeys God and His Messenger.'
'He responds to whoever calls upon Him...'
'If one of you is invited to a (wedding)-banquet, he must respond...'
'Say "Amen" and God responds to you.'
'Call, and it will be answered; ask, and it will be given.'
'...Is there anyone calling? Then I respond to him...' [Divine Saying]
He says: 'whoever responds to the Messenger of God, O my God, help/support him...'
'Respond to the one who calls...'
'Surely you all are calling upon (One Who is) Near and Responding.' [cf. Quran 13:16]
'And you must know that God does not respond to the call of a heedless, neglectful heart.'
'Verily He responds to the person secretly/spiritually ("from the Unseen").'
'Keep on striving in your calling/prayers, then you will deserve for them to be answered...'
'Verily prayers are answered upon completing (khatm) the reading of the Quran.'

'... Is there anyone praying, that they might be answered?' [part of a famous Divine Saying
often cited by Ibn Arabi]
'He will continue to be answered... as long as he does not call/pray for a sin or for
estrangement/separation.'
'Whoever calls upon Me, I will respond to him...'
'Surely the calling in that land will be answered...'
'Verily the prayer/calling of one treated unjustly will be answered!'
Divine Calling, Human Response Scripture and Realization in the Meccan Illuminations, by
James W. Morris. Part 2. From Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Vol. 54, 2013.
Part 1 of this article

Notes
[1]Most unusually, this chapter is qualified as 'completing' or 'fulfilling' (.al-bb al-muwaff),
apparently highlighting its integral connection with the preceding chapter 519.
[2]There are several possible meanings to this caution: for example, a warning against
avoiding right action (or any action at all) due to cautious worldly considerations; an
exhortation to remaining open to the often mysterious and puzzling spontaneity of our direct
perception or spiritual inspiration of the actual meaning of and proper response to particular
unusual and unexpected divine callings; an encouragement to trust in our immediate spiritual
intuition and sense of significance of particular happenings and events; and so on..
[3]Or 'with a good and happy soul' (.tayyib al-nafs).
[4]A formula or litany of divine Remembrance, like each of the 'spiritual mottoes' (.hijjr)
underlying each of these concluding chapters (note 2 above): in this case, Ibn Arabi is
referring to the Quranic verse 6:36 which provides the title and underlying subject of this
chapter.
[5]This technical term, based on Muhammad's reassurances about the heavenly reward of
certain early martyrs, is applied to those rare spiritual figures whom God has given a special
inspired knowledge and assurance of their ultimate (good) spiritual destiny..
[6]This is one of Ibn Arabi's most frequently cited hadith, which he usually cites to highlight
the model of Muhammad's unique degree of active spiritual openness (.hayra) to the
bewildering profusion of divine 'calls,' messages and instruction that as these two chapters
(see JMIAS 53 (2013), pp.124 for Chap. 19) make so clear are being sent our way at every
moment.

[7]This list is restricted here. only to Quranic verses including the verbal forms of the j-wb root (to reply, respond, answer, etc.), as with the two verses of dhikr providing the titles of
Chapters 519 and 520.
[8]In this and the following four verses, instead of speaking of simply 'calling' or 'praying'
(.da), the somewhat stronger verb nd ('crying out' or 'fervently pleading') is used to
describe the particular actions of each of these five prophets.
[9]Quoted here simply in their shorter mnemonic forms as summarized in
Wensinck's. Concordance of the major Sunni hadith collections, vol. II, pp.3956 (Arabic
root j-w-b only). With each of these hadith, of course, these short summary expressions are
only part of a longer story context that is more fully recounted in the original hadith.
Return to the top of the page

Divine Calling, Human Response

Scripture and Realization in the Meccan Illuminations :
Part 1
by James W. Morris
And whenever My servants ask you about Me, surely I am Near: I respond to the call of the
one who is calling, whenever he calls upon Me. So may they respond fully to Me and may they
have faith in Me, that they might be guided rightly! (Quran 2:186)
The two chapters (519520) of the Meccan Illuminations which are entirely devoted to Ibn
Arabi's reflections on the full extent and demands of our human responsiveness to God's
'Calling' are part of the long concluding sixth division[1] of the Futht devoted to 'the spiritual
mottoes[2] of the Muhammadan Poles and their spiritual stations.'[3] In introducing this
immense yet profoundly intimate treasury of spiritual wisdom, Ibn Arabi explains the
particular phenomenological focus of these final 96 chapters as follows:
So let's begin with the spiritual Poles and the spiritual 'mottoes' they manifest. I mean by that
those distinguishing indicators[4] such that whoever acts according to them finds/experiences
what (those 'Poles') found and witnesses what they witnessed. Because I constructed this
book of mine or rather God constructed it, not I! in order to help and fully inform the
people. For all of it is a spiritual illumination (fath: a sudden spiritual 'opening') from God.
And I also followed in it the path of summary exposition, according to this servant's asking his
Sustainer regarding that, because our state only required setting forth what the Real ordered
to be set forth...[5]
Before taking up translated selections from these two key chapters, it is important to highlight
that the inner connection between the guiding Quranic verses concerning our response to
God's Calling that Ibn Arabi takes as his point of departure in each chapter here has to do
above all with the fundamental contrast between two alternative ways of responding to that
Call an awareness which, he soon makes clear, is prompted both inwardly and through all

the outward circumstances of earthly existence. The first way encompasses those responses
which 'give you all Life' (8:24), discussed in Chapter 519. The second alternative, the subject
of Chapter 520, is the condition of those who are instead described by the Quran (at 6:36) as
inwardly 'dead' (mawt), because they failed to truly listen and thus to respond appropriately
to that ever-present appeal. While these concluding phenomenological chapters of
the Futht have to date been rarely translated and studied, they are in many cases the most
directly accessible and humanly universal passages in the entire Meccan Illuminations
beautifully illustrating Ibn Arabi's challenging assertion here that 'whoever puts these
guideposts into action will experience what (earlier Friends of God) had found and witnessed.'
At first glance, the central practical issue in both these chapters is how we human beings can
come to know and discern what are the truly divine 'Calls' we encounter as somehow
distinguished from all the other unending and urgent solicitations coming from the world and
people around us? And secondly, once we are able to discern and recognize the nature of
those particular divine summons (or spiritual lessons and tests), how do we then discover and
come to understand our proper response, and how must we then go on to carry it out in
appropriate inner and outward action? Here, as in so many other contexts in the Futht, the
juxtaposition of these two complementary chapters, together with their keynote Quranic
verses, immediately makes it clear that our discovery of these spiritual realities and their inner
dynamics necessarily unfolds from our ongoing educational experience of and reflection upon
the dramatic, eventually indelible contrast between the ongoing outcomes of both our
appropriate actions and our relative failures, as the rippling waves of those consequences
gradually unfold in the wider course of life itself.
Toward a Deeper Commentary on the Fuss al-Hikam
Students of Ibn Arabi familiar with his influential late Bezels of Wisdom (Fuss al-Hikam) and
its long line of subsequent commentators will immediately recognize that these two chapters
of his Meccan Illuminations briefly introduced and partially translated here provide a detailed,
practically focused spiritual commentary on the famous opening chapter of the Fuss on Adam
and at the same time, a genuinely revealing companion to that powerfully condensed later
work which pointedly outlines and highlights those individual processes of combined reflection
and spiritual realization (tahqq) that are so essential for understanding Ibn Arabi's
vocabulary, symbolism, rhetoric and deeper intentions there. The same is true of a number of
other equally significant and illuminating chapters of the Futht, which together provide
indispensable keys for grasping the meaning and intended aims of the Fuss: elaborate and
fully developed keys which were, we may safely assume, already intimately familiar to those
close disciples and longtime students of the Meccan Illuminations who were also the original
readers and listeners of the Fuss during Ibn Arabi's final years.
Given the profound historical influence of the Fuss and its almost millennial line of influential
philosophical and theological commentaries, together with the notoriety engendered even
today by its initially unfamiliar and often intentionally confounding symbolism and provocative
rhetoric, we may hope that increasing familiarity with these and other equally instructive key
chapters of Ibn Arabi's Futht will begin to make clear to today's much wider, global
audiences something of the deeper justification of Ibn Arabi's poignant personal claim and
even more pressing challenge to his readers here at the end of Chapter 520:

... So by God, I am not thanks be to God! among those who love (witnessing) mutual
torment and vengeance against the servants of God. Instead, God created me as a
Lovingmercy, and He made me an heir to the Lovingmercy of the one to whom it was said (at
21:107): We have only sent you as a Lovingmercy to all the worlds![6] For (in so emphasizing
the universal extent of His Lovingmercy) He did not specify some (particular) person of faith
over against any other.
The Framework of Realization: Ibn Arabi's 'Guideposts' in Chapters 519520
In Chapter 519 here, just as in the opening chapter on the Wisdom of Adam in his Fuss alHikam, Ibn Arabi begins by distinguishing clearly between those divine 'Calls' which come to
us inwardly, from the divine Spirit-breath that is the ground of our own self or soul (from what
he here calls 'God' and the divine Word); and outwardly, from what he here calls 'the
Messenger' (or in the Fuss, 'the most holy Self-Manifestation' mediating the universal
'Muhammadan Reality' that is the knowable ground of all creation), a term which here
encompasses all the other forms and levels of all existence. But what is much more clearly
stated in these two chapters of the Futht is that these basic cosmological/ontological
distinctions are intended simply to clarify the ultimate phenomenal framework within which
each of us is obliged to discover gradually always in uniquely 'personalized,' challenging, and
ultimately revealing spiritual circumstances the deeper dimensions of the divine Reality and
Intention underlying this cosmic human situation.[7] Ibn Arabi's intensely personal and
practical spiritual focus here richly translates into more direct and comprehensible terms the
focus of the famous Quranic verse that provides the illuminating backdrop to all these 'Meccan
Openings': We shall continue to show them ('cause them to see') Our Signs on the horizons
and in their own souls so that/until it becomes clear/shines forth to them that H[8] is the
truly Real (al-Haqq)...(41:53).
In that light, these two late chapters of the Futht are an especially poignant and
unambiguous reminder of the practical centrality of what the Shaykh usually calls tahqq the
quintessential human process of experiential 'realization,' actualization, and verification of our
individual nature and destiny and of the particular personal, concrete, and unique, neverrepeated nature of that providentially arranged series of 'private lessons' and predicaments
which constitute each human being's earthly life, and beyond. From that practical spiritual
standpoint, reading these chapters requires the constant active, probing recollection of all the
corresponding specific, necessarily unique and personal illustrations of that universal process
which Ibn Arabi seeks to evoke in each of his readers. So it is no accident that the subject,
title and guiding theme of each of these two key chapters is a particular process of dhikr: a
simultaneous 'reminder' and ever-deeper 'recollection.'
Among those crucial reminders here are the following fundamental practical themes, which
recur with different emphases on virtually every page of Ibn Arabi's mature writings:
The practical necessity, for those who seek inspired and actualized spiritual knowing, of
focusing clearly on those particular forms of divine 'Calling' and messages that are
unmistakably addressed directly to one's own self with all the cautions and limitations that
challenge involves regarding the natural human temptation to seek instead to correct or
improve the more visible shortcomings of others. Or in a more positive direction, he offers
here a powerful reminder of the multiple ways that these uniquely personal practical

foundations of each soul's spiritual realization, so clearly outlined in these two chapters,
dictate both the operative forms of, and the inevitable limitations on, effective spiritual
communication.
The vital practical role in all spiritual growth and learning of the profusion of alternative
'callers,' tempting distractions of every sort, and apparently conflicting messengers and
messages and therefore of intrinsically painful and educational 'mistakes' (at all the key
stages Ibn Arabi carefully outlines here) in the ongoing, ever-renewed process of discerning,
understanding, and finally properly responding to each divine Call. The absolutely essential
illuminating role in this process of human perfection of the ensemble of all those at first
apparently 'negative' elements (the endless expressions of our spiritual deafness, blindness,
and muteness, as the Quran constantly reminds us) is summed up here in the opening poem
of Chapter 519 in the recurrent Quranic term makr: that is, the providential unfolding
contrast, and productive interaction, of divine and human 'cunning' throughout the dramatic
temporal unfolding of each person's spiritual education and ultimate destiny.
The pivotal importance, for any serious student of Ibn Arabi's works, of a constant
awareness of the spiritual immediacy and present reality of the puzzling 'eschatological'
symbols and processes alluded to in the Quran and hadith. For modern readers initially
unfamiliar with the depths and intricate references of that elaborate phenomenological
symbolism, this is one of many reasons that the deeper understanding of those scriptural
eschatological symbols so beautifully conveyed by the classical Sufi poets makes their
masterworks still such indispensable companions for the study of Ibn Arabi's intentionally
challenging Arabic prose.
Finally as Ibn Arabi so pointedly and repeatedly emphasizes here at the beginning of
Chapter 519, and again in the concluding lines of Chapter 520 the actual ongoing spiritual
reality of all effective 'revelation,' and of the actual recognition and realization of that everpresent Call, is inseparably rooted in and illuminated by concretely universal realities shared
by all human beings (insn), throughout all dimensions and levels of being, in all times and
places.
Scripture and Realization: The Hermeneutical Web of Quran and Hadith
As is almost always the case with Ibn Arabi's works, from the mysteriously encoded symbolic
narratives of his youth in the Maghreb to the mature writings typified by these late chapters of
the Futht and his Fuss al-Hikam, any deeper understanding of his writing presupposes in
his readers (whether past or present) a comprehensive, detailed, and fully nuanced awareness
of the relevant web of complex scriptural allusions always including both related Quranic
verses and multiple hadith, and often as well key background stories provided by the literature
of the 'tales of the prophets,' 'occasions of revelation' (asbb al-nuzl), Arabic proverbs and
poetry, earlier Sufi tradition, and other extra-scriptural materials that are normally taken for
granted (i.e., as being actively provided by his originally intended audiences) in virtually every
page of these works. For serious translators or teachers, in particular, this means that
contemporary readers and students must be carefully supplied with an active awareness of all
of these essential interrelated hermeneutical elements that were taken for granted by the
author and his original disciples, students and intended readers. And this richly complex
implicit background is not required as an optional, supplementary 'commentary' or exegesis,

but rather as an intrinsic and essential contextual element of the original text.
[9] Unfortunately, there is no easy or unobtrusive way to convey this indispensable contextual
information.
In the case of Chapters 519520, for example, the central underlying problematic is twofold.
First, how can we human beings come to know and discern what are the truly divine and
essential 'Calls' we encounter both inwardly and outwardly as distinguished from all the
other endless solicitations coming both from within ourselves and from the world and people
all around us? And secondly, once we have somehow recognized those particularly compelling
spiritual appeals, how do we then discover and actualize the proper nature of our own creative
response? Put so simply, these fundamental questions already highlight the familiar,
unavoidable practical role of repeated 'mistakes' and inadequate approximations within that
existential process by which each person gradually discovers and develops all the elements of
that requisite spiritual intelligence.
In regard to both these key challenges, Ibn Arabi's opening Quranic verses here immediately
highlight (and certainly assume) a number of closely related Quranic passages involving both
divine and human calling and responding,[10] which together elaborate and fill out in the
broadest possible metaphysical and spiritual terms the full range of challenging contexts and
situations to which Ibn Arabi is alluding. They likewise suggest a similar spectrum of Prophetic
hadith that often more concretely illustrate (for example, in regard to the exchange of
everyday greetings) the endless types of particular testing situations in which we all encounter
these challenges. We have placed the translation of those underlying Quranic verses and
hadith as an Appendix at the end of this essay, so as not to overshadow these two chapters of
the Futht themselves.
Here are a few of the basic practical parameters of this recurrent spiritual challenge of
'responding to God' that are already clearly developed in these related Quranic passages and
which would therefore be immediately assumed by Ibn Arabi's original readers and listeners:
To begin with, the best-known (and perhaps the most complex) Quranic expression of this
theme is found in the familiar verse of our opening epigraph above (2:186), which manages to
evoke not only the constant ongoing interplay of divine and human calling and corresponding
responses, but also the spiritually significant intermediary role of Muhammad (the mysterious
singular 'you' of this particular verse) and by extension, of all the inspired messengers,
prophets and 'Friends of God' (awliy Allh) to whom people so often turn at the most difficult
points in the course of this process.
More commonly, the Quran clearly distinguishes between God's response to human or
prophetic pleading (some l3 other verses), on the one hand; and the wider range of human or
other responses (including those of the jinn and Satan) to God's direct or indirect Calling
(some 24 verses).
Those verses focusing on the divine Response (always ultimately beneficent) to human
pleading often emphasize God's spiritual proximity and readiness to respond (as here in the
verse 8:24 that provides the title of Chapter 519), but also the necessary human
conditions for that Response to be effectively perceived and actualized: for example, having

true faith, remaining upright and attentive, following God alone, fulfilling our responsibilities,
doing good deeds, and so on.
The descriptions of the divine Response, depending on the circumstances in question, refer
sometimes to visible, outward historical events and occurrences, but at least equally often to
apparently spiritual consequences and recompenses bestowed upon the particular individuals
or groups concerned.
Most strikingly, almost all the verses concerning God's Response highlight the bitterly
unpleasant human circumstances and dilemmas that actually lead people to cry out and to call
upon Him: that is, dramatic situations (often involving Muhammad or earlier prophets) of
palpable suffering, fear, injustice and oppression, loss, sinfulness and repentance, and so on.
Thus the highlighting of those particularly compelling underlying circumstances immediately
suggests a much wider circle of closely related Quranic terms and concepts such as the
interplay of divine and human 'turning' (t-w-broot) and 'attention' or right direction (w-j-h),
and so on that are all likewise deeply embedded in Ibn Arabi's discussion of calling and
response in these two paired chapters of the Futht. As these two chapters also make clear,
those same troubling circumstances likewise point to the often unimaginably complex
manifestations of the divine Response: that is, to the very concrete individual and communal
mystery-stories of providential divine arrangement (makr) through which the apparent 'evil'
and unavoidable suffering of life in this world is gradually discovered to be inseparable from
the deepest dimensions and ultimate intentions of God's all-encompassing Love and
Compassion (rahma).
In contrast, the more numerous (24) verses focusing on the response of people (and other
morally responsible creatures) to their Calling by God and His messengers who are often
inseparably associated, as here in verse 8:24 highlight a somewhat different set of practical
spiritual considerations:
The first of these is the necessity of distinguishing between those appeals which are truly,
intrinsically divine, and the vast spectrum of (ultimately illusory) suggestions and solicitations
constantly coming to us from Satan and a long array of self-styled potential 'friends,' rescuers,
and protectors.
A different set of inner spiritual obstacles is evoked by the frequent references to those who
apparently 'hear' the divine Call, but who (as at 6:36, providing the title of Chapter 520) are
not really listening due to a wide array of distractions, momentary preoccupations, and other
inner and outer impediments and who therefore fail to respond to those divine appeals in a
timely and appropriate manner. (This is of course another case where the initial problematic of
calling and response leads directly to a much wider circle of related Quranic themes and
illustrations.)
Likewise, many of these verses contrast the particular revealing signs and tell-tale proofs
and evidence of God's actively transforming response and support, whether in this world or
beyond, with the ultimately empty, non-existent responses (or mute silence) of other illusory
guides and protectors. At the same time, in more than half of these verses it is only in an
eschatological setting that the ultimate futility and impotence of those illusory 'gods' is fully
revealed to those who had responded to them. In other words, only an illuminated awareness

of our spiritual reality and destiny or other instruments of divine protection and guidance
can make possible the necessary discernment of the sources and intended meanings of life's
often conflicting 'calls.'
Finally, as just mentioned previously, these verses likewise often highlight the considerable
range of necessary individual human preconditions for an effective and appropriate response
to the complex spectrum of divine and prophetic Calls.
As for the hadith on this theme that are partially translated in the Appendix at the end of this
essay, they likewise fall into two groups, focusing either on God's 'response' to our calling and
pleading, or to particular situations and challenges that the Prophet suggests are immediately
demanding our own appropriate spiritual response. And while both these sets of hadith closely
parallel the broader teachings of the Quranic verses just mentioned, they are also
characterized by that directness of expression (often more evident in the original Arabic),
simplicity and concreteness of their particular illustrative contexts which are all typical qualities
of the hadith more generally.

Chapter 519: The World as Divine 'Messenger'

The focus of Ibn Arabi's reflection in this chapter is on the following Quranic verse (8:24),
which we first translate here in full, because the emphasis in its second half on God's constant
transforming and illuminating Presence as the ever-present active mediator between our
imagined 'self' and our own Heart (qalb: each human being's essential spiritual reality)
constantly underlies Ibn Arabi's emphasis in these twinned chapters on the complex
challenges of properly recognizing and appropriately responding to the endless succession of
unique divine 'messengers' and their inward and outward divine 'Signs' (verse 41:53 above)
that together constitute every moment of our unfolding earthly experience:
O those who have faith, respond fully to God and to the Messenger when He calls you all to
what gives you Life! And know that God passes/shifts/is transformed/intervenes between the
person and his Heart, and that it is to Him that you all are being gathered!
The complex Arabic verb (h-w-l root) used here to describe God's constantly shifting Presence
within each human soul also immediately evokes the central theme in this Chapter 519 and
indeed in much of Ibn Arabi's work of God's tahawwul, or ongoing transformation and Selfmanifestation, throughout literally all the forms and levels of existence and creation. Ibn
Arabi's favorite dramatic illustrations of that cosmic reality of divine Self-manifestation are
two well-known 'Divine Sayings' (hadth quds), both set against the eschatological backdrop
of a particular human soul's revelatory 'unveiling' to the actual omnipresence of the divine, as
depicted in the symbolic setting of that person's final Judgment and Rising (qiyma). The first
of these dramatic stories is what he usually calls the 'hadith of the transformation through the
forms,' where a group of self-righteous souls, about to cross the Bridge (sirt) from this world
to the beyond, fail to recognize the divine Presence manifesting Itself to them in many
different forms, except for the very restricted form of their own particular limiting
beliefs[11] as to what is 'divine.' The second Divine Saying on our persistent human failure to
recognize the full reality of the divine Presence and Signs, which he sometimes calls the
'hadith of (the true nature of) Gehenna,' is one in which God reveals to another self-righteous
human soul at the Last Day its repeated profound failures to recognize and to

compassionately respond to the divine Presence in all the endless forms and levels of
'hunger,' 'thirst,' and 'illness' or loneliness experienced by other human beings in this life. (See
the full literal translations of both these key longer hadith in The Reflective Heart, Chapter 3.)
Since each chapter of the Meccan Illuminations opens with a complex, multi-dimensional
metaphysical poem that carefully summarizes the subject and ultimate import of that
particular spiritual 'Doorway' (bb), we begin with a full translation of the opening poem in
Chapter 519.
Translation
Chapter 519: Concerning the inner knowing of the state of the Pole whose spiritual waystation
is '...respond fully to God and to the Messenger when He calls you all to what brings you to
Life!' (8:24)
When you are called, respond, since God is calling you: For He does not call, but that He is
(also) giving you.[12]
You are the fully sufficient one:[13] so bestow generously, from what He has brought to you,
what is in harmony with what is Right/Due/Real (al-Haqq). For the All-Loving follows[14] you.
And every thing that is (apparently) contrary to the Right/Due/Real,[15] ponder it with
deep consideration,[16] for thoughtful reflection (fikr) is also calling you.
Don't say: 'That's not from my Lord!' and skip over it:
for the All-Knowing, by way of fact/command,[17] is bringing (that) to you.
So take it[18] and examine it deeply, with the instrument[19] you know:
for surely everything in manifest existence (kawn) is in you!
Do not blame in any way[20] anything that you, you are ignorant of!
Nor (should you ever criticize) each (divine) 'Address'[21] that is bestowed upon you.
Surely 'the God' has a 'cunning way'[22] with a group among His creatures:
so strive to realize[23] this in your essential/good qualities[24]!
And never ever say: 'This does not enter into the Scale of Intelligence!'
For Its[25] current/present (also) flows/carries/applies to you!
Know may God inspire and support us and you with the Holy Spirit![26] that there is no
clearer indication in the Quran indicating that the Complete Human Being[27] is created
according to the (divine) Form (of the All-Compassionate, al-Rahmn)[28] than this reminder
(in verse 8:24), through [God's inclusion of the definite article before 'Messenger', indicating
an equivalent role, rather than a subordination, and through the insistence in this verse on the
divine commandment that we should respond to both God and the Messenger].[29]
... For God and His Messenger are only calling us to what brings us to Life. Thus the response
is (required) of us in every state when those two call us, since there is not any state but that it
is from Him. Therefore we must necessarily respond to Him whenever those two call us, since
He is sustaining us in (all) our states! Hence He only distinguished here between God's Calling
and the Messenger's Calling in order that we might come to realize and actualize,[30] through
that (inspired response of ours), the Form of the Real/God that the Messenger occupies
while He is the Caller to us in boththose states.

So when He calls us through the Quran, informing (us) and translating (its meanings to us in
human terms), then that call is God's Calling, so that our response is to God, while the
Messenger is causing us to truly listen. But when He calls us through other than the Quran,
then that calling is theMessenger's Calling (us), so that our responding should be to the
Messenger (that is, to that particular human or other creaturely instrument or form and
situation through which that Calling actually reaches us). So there is no difference at all
between the two Callings, as far as (the obligation of) our responding although each Calling
is distinguished from the other by the difference of the Caller.
[Ibn Arabi then goes on to explain that the Calling of 'the Messenger' (that is, of everything
other than Quran itself) is 'even more numerous or more multiple' (akthar), in the sense that
it is more real and tangible and varied in its apparent origins, when viewed from our ordinary
ego-perspective.]
Indeed (the constant particularized 'Calling' of the universe to each person) is undoubtedly
'more numerous,' since we only hear it through all the concretely individualized particulars of
multiplicity.[31] And (this Calling) coming from the Messenger (that is, through all of creation)
is more closely corresponding to our hearing, because of the correspondence of form [between
our bodily senses and the 'Messenger'-world of outward manifestation] just as the Calling
(directly) from God more closely corresponds to our inner spiritual realities (haqiq).
[Ibn Arabi then continues to highlight other Quranic verses further emphasizing just as in
the second half of the verse 8:24 that is the title and keynote of this entire chapter God's
ultimate 'Closeness' to our souls, contrasted with the very human location (in time and space)
of each particular outward 'messenger' and 'message.']
Thus (in accordance with the second half of this verse 8:24) God is closer to us than
ourselves. But He is not closer to the (created) thing than itself since this (divine) closeness
is one in which we have faith, but which we do not know or even witness; though if we
witnessed it, we would also know it.[32]
[Throughout this complex section, we are meant to understand that as many related Quranic
verses also cited here indicate we human beings are constantly being solicited as well by
other people and tempting, but illusory figures (such as 'the Satans among the human beings
and jinn,' at 6:112) that we unfortunately treat as though they were God, or at least effective
intermediaries and 'associates' of God. Hence the decisive practical importance of the
experiential processes of spiritual discernment and discovery that are the shared subject of the
rest of this chapter and Chapter 520.]
Thus we must reflect about who is being called upon, in what we are being called to do. Then
if we find and experience an additional Life of spiritual knowing (hayt ilmiyya zida) in the
state we are in, which brings us to Life through that very Calling itself, we are obligated to
respond to whoever calls us, whether (that is) God or the Messenger. For we are only being
ordered to respond when we are called to what brings us to Life since God and His
Messenger do not call us to anything but what brings us to Life! So if we do not
find/experience the 'tasting' of that strange additional life (al-hayt al-gharba al-zida), then
we don't really know Who is calling us. For our ultimate aim here is nothing but the real

attainment of that through which we are brought to Life, and it is for the sake of this that we
hear and willingly obey.
So what is indispensable is that the person called must (first) actually perceive this
effect/influence through which the (appropriate) response for him to this Call is particularized
and specified.
Next, if the person of this description (who actually perceives this initial divine, life-giving
quality of this particular Calling) responds to It, then he attains, through (the Call) he heard,
yet another life through which the heart of this listener is brought to Life.
And if what this person heard from Him requires of him a certain action, and he
actually carries out that (right) action, then he has a third Life.[33]
So reflect on all that the servant deprives himself of whenever he does not listen to the Calling
of God and the Messenger! For all of being[34] is God's Words, and the 'fresh spiritual
inspirations/insights that reach (our soul)'[35] are all of them messengers from God's
Presence. That is how they are experienced by the Knowers of and through God,[36] since for
them every speaker is nothing but God, and every saying is a (new) knowing of God.
So that the only shaping/wording that remains (to be understood or discovered) is the
(intended) form of what is heard from that (particular situation of divine 'Speaking' and
Calling). Because in that (process of hearing, followed by the 'listening' of discernment and
understanding, then by right action) there is the speech of conforming to the divine pathway
(leading to Life); and there is also the speech which is trial and affliction.[37] So all that is left
is the understanding through which the difference in relative eminence (between those two
possible human responses, and their respective consequences) takes place!
Now those who are learned in the external traces[38] restricted themselves to the particular
'Speech of God' called the Furqn ('Separation')[39] andQurn ('Connecting') and to the
particular (historical) messenger named Muhammad. But the Knowers (of God) generalized
the 'Listening' (implied here in verse 8:24) to all (divine) Speaking, and they heard the Quran
as Connecting[40] (all people and all created things with their Source, the divine Real), not as
separating; and they generalized (God's) sending of messages (risla) to the category
(of all forms of divine 'Speaking' and creation) and to (its) universal inclusivity, not to a
(particular historical) era. So (for those true Knowers), every calling (person/situation) in the
world is a (divine) 'messenger' inwardly and spiritually, even if they are separated outwardly.
[...Ibn Arabi goes on to point out here how the Quran also carefully describes Ibls/Satan
and by extension, all the 'sorcery' of his 'agents' and manifestations as likewise being 'sent'
and allowed to have their particular essential influences only through God's permission, a point
whose far-reaching practical spiritual implications he repeatedly highlights throughout
the Futht.]
...So the Knower is happy and blessed in receiving the message (risla) of Satan, since he
knows how to receive that, while others are pained and miserable through that: they are the
people who lack this spiritual Knowing. (Of course) all of the people of faith, together with the
Knowers among them, are happy with the message of the (divine) messengers. But the

person who is acting in accordance with (a genuine spiritual awareness of) what was brought
in that (apparently 'bad,' painful or otherwise 'Satanic') message is happier than the person of
faith who has faith in that (divine Message) in (outward verbal) agreement and words, while
disobeying it in action and speech.
Therefore everything that is moving (or changing) and shifting in the world is a divine
messenger, whatever that motion/change may be. For nothing moves, not even an atom,
without God's permission. So the Knower looks for what is brought about through its
motion/change, and from that he seeks to draw the benefit of a knowing that he did not have
(before). To be sure, what the Knowers take from those (endlessly renewed) 'messengers' is
different according to the (particular) messengers: so what they take from those messengers
who are among the 'people of (divinely) guiding indications' (ashb al-dallt) is not like the
way they take from those messengers who are (acting) by (God's) permission, but without
actually being aware themselves of that permission [...and its deeper divine purpose, such as
Ibls/Satan].
[Ibn Arabi goes on to give a long illustration here of how the Knowers know how to deal with
Satan: for example, in their knowing to intentionally conceal someone's wrongdoing (the
divine virtue of being sattr) which would do greater harm or discord if it were publicly known,
thus accomplishing the opposite of what Satan directly intended. The paradoxical spiritual
implications of this basic insight are again highlighted in some of the more notorious passages
of the Fuss al-Hikam.]
So the whole world, for the Knower, is a Messenger from God to him. And that Messenger and
His message I mean the whole world with respect to that Knower, is a lovingmercy
(rahma), because the messengers are only sent as a lovingmercy.[41] So if they were sent
with an (apparent) affliction, that would actually be a divine lovingmercy in concealment,
because the divine 'Lovingmercy encompasses every thing.'[42] Indeed there is nothing at all
there (in all existence) that is not within this divine Lovingmercy: Surely your Sustainer is Allencompassing in Forgiveness (wsi al-maghfira)... (53:32).
Divine Calling, Human Response Scripture and Realization in the Meccan Illuminations, by
James W. Morris. Part 1. From Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, Vol. 53, 2013.
Part 2 of this article
Translation from Ch. 520 of the Meccan Illuminations and Appendix of Quranic verses and
hadith on divine and human 'calling' and response.

Notes
[1].Fasl VI, Chapters 462558: volume IV, pp.74325. The final Chapters 559560 together
basically form a separate concluding part devoted to the meanings and deeper spiritual and
ethical lessons of the entire book.

[2].Hijjrt: in the titles of all of these chapters, this term refers to key Quranic phrases and
litanies of prayer and spiritual 'remembrance' (dhikr), as is well illustrated in the two chapters
discussed in this essay.
[3]Throughout many earlier chapters of the. Futht, the titles include repeated mysterious
allusions to certain 'Moses-like' and 'Jesus-like' spiritual waystations, while others are termed
'Muhammad-like': the latter epithet seems to refer here to particularly universal and inclusive
spiritual stations, which fully integrate the contrasting perspectives (in our initial stages of
spiritual realization) of divine Mercy and Wrath, or Beauty and Majesty. Aqtb(plural of qutb),
is a common Sufi term normally referring to central figures among the spiritual hierarchy of
the awliy or 'Friends of God.' In these concluding chapters of the Futht, however, this term
seems to refer simply to the particular spiritual 'types' exemplifying the defining insights,
states and stations explored in each chapter.
[4]Or 'guideposts' for the spiritual traveler:. alm. (The italicized emphasis is ours.)
[5]The brief introduction to this entire sixth and final division (.fasl) of the book translated
here is from vol. IV, p.74. The concluding paragraph of this preface to all the final chapters of
the Futht not translated here intentionally echoes a number of Quranic verses insisting
that the responsibility of Muhammad (and of earlier prophets) is only for the transmission and
communication (balgh) of the divine Message, not for its proper reception and spiritual
comprehension among those to whom it is delivered.
[6]This is of course a particularly revealing allusion to Ibn Arabi's mature conception of his
wider mission as the 'Seal of Muhammadan [i.e., universal].Walya (divine proximity and
guidance),' a notion carefully explained in each of his recent biographies, and perhaps most
fully developed in M. Chodkiewicz's foundational Seal of the Saints.
[7]In the opening. Fass of Adam, as throughout the Fuss, these two facets of God's Selfmanifestation correspond to the essential twofold meaning of al-khalq as all of creation, and
as human beings in particular in the famous Divine Saying that frames and structures all of
that work: 'I was a hidden Treasure, and I loved to be known: so I created creation/people, so
that I might be known.'
[8]The reference here is to the ultimate, all-encompassing divine Essence, to what is most
Real and Present, not to any sort of abstraction, vague concept or distant reality..
[9]The same essential full contextualization is equally indispensable, of course, for modern
translations of any of the masterpieces of later Islamicate spiritual poetry, such as
the. Dwn of Hafiz and that poet's subsequent imitators or competitors in Persian and many
other Islamic languages.
[10]The verses and hadith briefly cited in the Appendix to this essay (in Part II), from which
the following general observations are drawn, are limited to those involving forms of the usual
Arabic root for answering, responding or replying to a request (.j-w-b, in both the IVth and
Xth verb forms). The corresponding notions of calling, requesting, pleading, praying for, and so
on are expressed in the wider family of Quranic expressions (including the Arabic roots s-l, d--w, n-d-w, etc.).

[11]Or in fact, much more broadly, all of their for the most part, deeply unconscious and
automatic 'inner spiritual knots,' unquestioned judgments and presuppositions, as Ibn Arabi
explains in his famous discussions of this constraining role of each person's deeply
unconscious. itiqd and the resulting 'gods-created-in-belief' that recur throughout his Fuss
al-Hikam.
[12]That is, giving being and life, and thereby bestowing the constantly renewed opportunity
for fuller life and deeper spiritual understanding, as the rest of this chapter makes clear..
[13]The 'you' addressed frequently here and throughout these two chapters is usually both
each individual reader and the ultimate reality of humanity as the 'Complete Human Being'
(.insn kmil): the latter reality is identified, throughout this and all of Ibn Arabi's works,
with the entirety of all creation as divine Self-manifestation (tajalliyt). As Ibn Arabi states
more explicitly throughout his Fuss, this means that each of the divine Names or Attributes
can only be fully known to us, and even (more controversially!) ultimately to God through
their actual manifestation in creation, and above all in each realized human being. One of the
most familiar of those Names recalled here is al-Ghan, 'the All-Sufficient' or 'Self-Sufficient.'
In theFutht, this final series of 96 chapters on the spiritual stations of the Poles concludes
with a long Chapter 558 devoted specifically to each of the 'Most-Beautiful' divine Names (as
classically enumerated in a famous hadith) and to what they demand of and make possible for
their corollaries in human experience.
[14]Or: '.is reciting you.' This play on words highlights Ibn Arabi's understanding deeply
rooted in imagery of the Quran and hadith of the fundamental nature of all creation and
humanity (insn, again) as divine 'Speech' and 'Words,' or the 'Breathing of the AllCompassionate' (nafas al-rahmn). This image of all creation, manifestation, and experience
as the eternal divine 'recitation' of the cosmic 'Quran' is developed in the rest of this poem and
throughout the remainder of this chapter.
[15]Or simply 'God':. Al-Haqq. This is a direct allusion to the two key dramatic Divine Sayings
mentioned just above highlighting our chronic failure to recognize God's Presence in all things
and situations or in other words, our frequent nave human tendency toward a profound
metaphysical dualism holding the divine Names (and their created manifestations) as being
somehow either 'good' or 'evil.'
[16].Itibr: that is, use that experience of what is initially challenging and disturbing to our
egoistic expectations and judgments as a kind of 'bridge' to 'cross over' to its actual intended
meaning and necessary role in the intimate transforming process of spiritual realization and
growth discussed throughout these two chapters.
[17]The Arabic phrase. bi-wajh al-amr here alludes both to all the divine 'commandments'
connected with this challenge of realization, and more deeply, simply to 'the way things are' or
the 'nature of created reality itself.'
[18]That is, every situation and experience that we may initially perceive as somehow
'contrary' or 'opposed' to (what we initially consider or unconsciously conceive of as) the
'divine.'.

[19]It rapidly becomes clear from later contexts in this chapter (and elsewhere throughout
the. Futht) that this undefined 'tool of Investigation' is the 'Scale' (Quranic mzn) of the
divine/human Intelligence (aql), which is itself the 'Complete Human Being' (insn kmil) and
'Muhammadan Reality' that Ibn Arabi goes on to mention in the first prose line immediately
following this opening poem.
[20]The poet's language here intentionally echoes the most intense negative imperative form
that is used almost exclusively in Quranic rhetoric (extremely rarely in ordinary Arabic prose),
which might be more adequately translated as '.Don't even think of blaming or criticizing...!'
[21].Khitb: in Ibn Arabi's technical language, this grammatical term refers to all the ways in
which God's 'Speech' (i.e., all of manifest existence) is specifically directed to and received by
each human being, through all the uniquely particular unfolding forms of each soul's
experience and existence.
[22].Makr: using this same term, the Quran frequently contrasts the all-encompassing divine
providence manifested in all the ultimately beneficent 'accidents' of fate and destiny with
the pervasive human tendency to try to control and manipulate others, including the manifold
'god(s) created in our beliefs' and unconscious suppositions. That is why the poet here
pointedly refers to 'the (real) God' (al-ilh) instead of to the more familiar (and often
profoundly misunderstood) substantive form 'Allh.'
[23]The imperative verb form used here is drawn from the most common Arabic root
(.tahqq, muhaqqiq, etc.) that Ibn Arabi uses to convey the distinctive practical spiritual and
metaphysical focus of all his work, that spiritual intelligence which combines the fundamental
role of individual experiential 'realization' or actualization of the Real with that further
necessary 'verification' and reflective comprehension which he understands as he carefully
goes on to explain below to be practically inseparable from each stage of spiritual growth
and maturation.
[24].Man: referring to the inner spiritual realities and actualized qualities of character
(haqiq, makrim al-akhlq) actively manifesting the divine Names/Attributes, which are the
eventual spiritual fruits of the process of realization.
[25]'It' here refers to the cosmic universal Intellect (.aql), which Ibn Arabi understands
throughout his works as an equivalent to the 'Muhammadan Reality,' 'Light of Muhammad,'
divine 'Speech,' the 'Complete Human Being,' and so on. Needless to say, none of these
symbols or their cumbersome translations effectively convey by themselves a real sense of the
full mystery, complexity, and inherent dynamic unfolding interconnection of that cosmic reality
they are meant to point to here.
[26]The opening prose phrase of the majority of chapters of the. Futht begins (as in
Chapter 520 immediately below) with a similar brief invocation, for both the author and his
singular reader, requesting the divine aid of '...a spirit from Him.' However, the extreme rarity
of this particular prayerful request here in Chapter 519 for 'the Holy Spirit' (rh al-qudus:
usually identified with the archangelic messenger Gabriel and universal Intellect) in particular
may suggest the unique comprehensiveness of the spiritual vision and perspective required to
grasp the full dimensions of those spiritual lessons that are the specific focus of this chapter.

[27].Al-insn al-kmil: as at note 25 just above, a few other recurrent symbolic equivalents
of this key cosmological term in Ibn Arabi's works include the 'Muhammadan Reality,' the
Logos (divine 'Speech' or 'Recitation' of the cosmic Quran, at note 14 above), the universal,
cosmic Intelligence (aql), or the 'Light of Muhammad.'
[28]Alluding here and throughout the rest of this chapter to the specific wording of the
famous hadith that 'Adam [that is, the Complete Human Being] was created according to the
form of the All-Loving,. al-Rahmn.' This is the divine Name which the Quran pointedly insists
(at 17:110) is equivalent to that of the comprehensive divine Name (that is, the Name
including all the other more specific divine Names and Attributes) of 'God' (Allh).
[29]In other words, the longer prose passage briefly summarized here in brackets sets out the
ontological and theological framework that is the subject of the opening chapter on Adam in
Ibn Arabi's famous. Bezels of Wisdom (Fuss al-Hikam), stressing the two inseparable
dimensions of the divine Self-manifestation (tajalliyt): that is, through all the realms of
creation (= 'The Messenger' here) and inwardly through the human Heart (= 'the Quran'
below) both together constituting and manifesting the 'Complete Human Being.'
[30].li-natahaqqaq: this is the active, reflexive form of the same verbal root usually
translated as 'realization' in this essay. But given Ibn Arabi's frequent emphasis here and
throughout his writings on the more openly universal and comprehensive al-Haqq ('the Truly
Real', 'Right,' 'Obligatory,' and so on) as synonymous with (or even more comprehensive than)
'God' (Allh), this verbal form also suggests that spiritual realization is also a kind of gradual
'divinization' or drawing closer to God or of 'taking on the divine qualities of character'
(takhalluq bi-akhlq Allh), to use a favorite expression of earlier Sufi teachers.
[31].Ayn al-kathra: this same expression here can also be read literally as 'the eye of
multiplicity.' Ibn Arabi's intentional pun here also highlights the essential contrast between our
bodily senses adapted to perceive the multiplicity of created things, and our 'spiritual vision'
(basra and shuhd) which must be awakened in order to perceive the meanings and ultimate
Unicity (wahda) and Reality (al-Haqq) underlying those ever-flowing forms of our experience.
[32]The paradox stated here that we cannot somehow 'know' or witness (as though from
some imagined 'outside' viewpoint) the actual divine reality of our Sustainer (.rabb) which
ultimately is our sensing, perceiving, knowing, acting self is of course the central subject of
Ibn Arabi's entireFuss al-Hikam, more particularly elaborated in the chapters on Adam,
Abraham and Hud, among others.
[33]We have separately highlighted here these three distinct, successive stages of every
human situation of spiritual realization because Ibn Arabi frequently highlights, throughout
his. Futht, the inherent spiritual benefit (thawb) and manifold lessons which flow simply
from each person's initial 'listening' and paying attention to God's Calling, and then from our
efforts to actively respond to that Call even when our initial understanding and/or our
attempted responses are so often incorrect or inadequate. Indeed, as he stresses again and
again, here and elsewhere, it is only through the ongoing, lifelong repetition of those efforts at
truly listening and appropriately responding, with all their inevitable failures and mistakes
whether in our initial perception, understanding, or subsequent right action that spiritual
learning and realization is actually possible.

[34]Or 'everything that we find/experience':. wujd (and related forms of the w-j-d root),
throughout Ibn Arabi's own works, almost always expresses both those very different
meanings of the Arabic.
[35].Wridt: this key Sufi phenomenological term is usually understood in implicit contrast
to the much larger category of 'random impulses' or 'mental noise' (khawtir) that happen to
pass through our mind and consciousness. That underlying contrast highlights the practical
necessity of the essential processes of spiritual discernment that are the focus of the
remainder of this chapter. See also the earlier passages (at note 14) on the related dimensions
of Reality perceived as divine 'Speaking.'
[36].Al-rifn bi-llh: that is, the highest category of realized spiritual 'Knowers,' who
simultaneously perceive all things with, through, and as God, in their inseparability from the
Real (al-Haqq) that is their common Source.
[37]In this sentence, Ibn Arabi pointedly contrasts our experiences of following and
conforming to the divine 'prescription' and intention embedded in each moment (.imtithl
shar) signified by the probative experience of new 'Life' that spontaneously flows from that
realization with the (equally revelatory) 'painful testing' and subjective 'dying' or separation
and loneliness that is the subject of following Chapter 520 (and its opening verse 6:36), in
particular.
[38].ulam al-rusm: a familiar Sufi expression for those scholars learned in the disciplines
of historically transmitted religious traditions and other outward religious forms.
[39]Both. Furqn (from the Arabic root for 'separating' and 'distinguishing') and Qurn are
among several Quranic terms applied to different dimensions (many of them clearly
metaphysical and trans-historical) of the revelation brought by Muhammad. Here Ibn Arabi is
alluding to a familiar playful usage, which he frequently adopts throughout his works, that
assumes the root of 'Qurn' (actually from q-r-, 'to recite') to be from the Arabicq-r-n,
'combining' or 'joining.' This allows him to contrast these two terms in referring to that
distinctive combination of metaphysical 'distinguishing' (farq) and unitive 'conjoining' (jam)
which is the experiential fruit of accomplished spiritual realization.
[40]See the preceding note..
[41]Alluding to the famous Quranic verse. We have only sent you as a Lovingmercy to all the
worlds! (21:107), whose wider universal dimensions and implications identifying this
'Muhammadan Reality' with the cosmic 'Complete Human Being' are dramatically developed
in the concluding section of Chapter 520 below.
[42]Paraphrasing the words of a famous verse (7:156) which is one of the most constantly

The Man Without Attributes:

Ibn 'Arabi's Interpretation of Abu Yazid alBistami
One of the characteristic epithets of the great Sufi master Ibn 'Arabi is Muhyi al-Din, the
"Revivifier of the Faith". When we ask what this means in practice, it raises the question of
how a mystic interacts with the tradition. A Sufi of the stature of Ibn 'Arabi does not simply
recapitulate the experiences and commentaries of early generations of Sufis. The more
comprehensive the vision of a thinker, the more important it is to examine how this vision
integrates, or in this case revivifies, the insights of previous thinkers into a synthetic edifice. It
has long been recognized that Ibn 'Arabi paid close attention to his spiritual forebears,
certainly the prophets but also of course the many Sufis who first elaborated the parameters
of the Islamic mystical tradition. The interpretations that he has given to the sayings and
experiences of earlier Sufis provide valuable indices of the ways in which the Shaykh
constructed his relationship with the Sufi tradition. As an example of Ibn 'Arabi's treatment of
his predecessors, I would like to examine his interpretation of Abu Yazid al-Bistami (d. 848
9), the enigmatic Persian whose bold ecstatic sayings have posed a continuing challenge to
subsequent generations. Especially when we contrast Ibn 'Arabi's interpretation of Abu Yazid
with the Bistamian legacy as seen by other Sufis, we can come to understand the
distinctiveness of Ibn 'Arabi's approach to the tradition.
Ibn 'Arabi has creatively appropriated the legacies of many other early Sufis, but the role of
interpretation in the processes of oral and literary transmission has not yet been clarified.
Probably his best known reflection on an earlier Sufi is his commentary on the 157 questions
of al-Hakim al-Tirmidhi on the subject of the "seal of the saints".[2] Ibn 'Arabi also provided a
critical commentary on a treatise by the Andalusian Ibn Qasyi (d. 1151).[3]
Another notable example is Dhu al-Nun the Egyptian (d. 860), to whom Ibn 'Arabi dedicated a
special monographic study, collecting over five hundred of his sayings. This text has recently
been translated into French by Roger Deladriere from unpublished manuscripts.[4] In his
valuable introduction, Deladriere has indicated the remarkable complexity of this text. Ibn
'Arabi derived these sayings from both written and oral sources, with a good deal of
overlapping. Some of Dhu al-Nun's sayings come exclusively from written texts: 69 from Ibn

Bakuya and 114 from Kharkushi. Others, while found in standard Sufi texts, Ibn 'Arabi
received also by oral tradition: 190 from Abu Nu'aym al-Isfahani, 153 from Ibn Khamis, 75
from Ibn al-Jawzi, 21 from al-Qushayri, and 21 from Ibn Jahdam.[5] Deladriere has also
shown that parallel texts from Dhu al-Nun can be found in other Sufi sources and historical
texts: 124 in Ibn 'Asakir's history of Damascus, 171 in 'Attar's Persian hagiography, 114 in alMunawi's Arabic hagiography, and a startling 402 in al-Suyuti's biography of Dhu al-Nun.[6] A
major problem looms in clarifying the role of interpretation in the selection of these sayings.
How many of these sayings are found in a majority of later transmitters, and how many exist
only in a single source? Which sayings does Ibn 'Arabi exclude? Does the picture of Dhu al-Nun
that emerges in the works of other authors differ significantly from Ibn 'Arabi's? Another
problem occurs in the textual variations of these sayings. Quotations from early Sufi sources
can often undergo major transformations in words and authorship.[7] A great deal of close
textual work needs to be done before we can know the exact significance of Ibn 'Arabi's
interpretation of Dhu al-Nun.
In terms of textual transmission, comparison with other sources indicates that the literal
version of some of Dhu al-Nun's sayings . given by Ibn 'Arabi differs significantly from versions
known in other parts of the Islamic world. Persian and Indian Sufis quote a saying of Dhu alNun on intimacy with God as a justification for listening to music (sama'). In the later sources,
the authorship of the saying has shifted to one of its primary transmitters, so that it is now
attributed to Ruzbihan Baqli. Ibn 'Arabi and other Arab Sufis, on the other hand, saw this
saying (quoted in a significantly different form) as a description of the alternation between
states of awe (hayba) and intimacy (uns).[8] The fact that Ibn 'Arabi quoted different versions
of Dhu al-Nun's sayings than did other Sufi interpreters, or that he understood them
differently, should not be a cause for suspicion, or for privileging one of these interpreters over
another. It should rather be an opportunity to define Ibn 'Arabi's unique position in terms of his
relation to the rest of the tradition.
Returning to Abu Yazid, it is apparent that Ibn 'Arabi held the Persian in great regard, as a
mystic of remarkable attainments. Ibn 'Arabi probably makes more references to Abu Yazid
than to any other early Sufi.[9] He refers to him as one of "the people of blame" (almalmiyya), one of the highest categories of spiritual rank.[10] Abu Yazid is one of the saints
who have received every kind of divine manifestation in their breasts.[11] He is one of the
"people of unveiling and finding" (ahl al-kashf wal-wujd) who attains God through poverty.
[12] Ibn 'Arabi calls him "one of our companions"(min ashbin) who "has realized the
truth" (kna muhaqqiqan).[13] To this category of "companions" belong others such as alGhazali, "the companions of hearts, witnessings, and unveilings - not the devotees, ascetics,
or Sufis in general, but the people of realities and realization among them."[14] As one of the
"realizers of the truth" (al-muhaqqiqn), Abu Yazid holds the same view as Ibn 'Arabi on the
relation between gnosis (ma'rifa)and knowledge (cilm).[15] Abu Yazid is one of the
"substitutes" (n'ib, pi. nuwwb) who holds the degree of "interior succession" (al-khilfa albtina),both terms referring to aspects of the office of the "pole" (qutb), the supreme figure of
the spiritual hierarchy.[16] Abu Yazid's house, called "the house of the just" (bayt al-abrr), is
one of the places where spiritual influences remain at such a high intensity that the sensitive
heart can still perceive them; in this sense, like the retreats of Junayd and Ibrahim ibn Adham,
it is comparable at a lesser level to the sacred precincts of Mecca.[17] Abu Yazid is also
described as one of the "solitaries" (afrd) who have attained to God, but who return to the
world under divine compulsion.[18] In addition, Abu Yazid continues to be active as an Uwaysi

spiritual guide for later generations of Sufis (such as Abu al-Hasan al-Kharaqani), and appears
in visions to Ibn 'Arabi himself as well as to other figures such as Abu Madyan.[19] In short,
Abu Yazid is clearly an authoritative representative of early Sufism, in the view of Ibn 'Arabi.
In singling out Abu Yazid as a Sufi authority, Ibn 'Arabi was following the lead of many earlier
biographers and commentators. The first we know of was Junayd of Baghdad (d. 910), who
interrogated one of Abu Yazid's relatives about his sayings, and then translated them from
Persian into Arabic. Junayd's commentary (tafsr) on these controversial sayings is partially
preserved by Sarraj.[20] Further commentary is occasionally found in the collection of Sahlagi,
mentioned below.[21] Other important interpretations occur in the Persian commentary on
ecstatic sayings by Ruzbihan Baqli (d. 1209) and in 'Attar's (d. ca. 1220) famous Persian
hagiography.[22]
Ibn 'Arabi did not dedicate a single treatise to the sayings of Abu Yazid, as he did with Dhu alNun, so our task theoretically requires us to comb through the works of Ibn 'Arabi,
especially al-Futht al-Makkiyya, for significant references to Abu Yazid. In the scope of this
article, it will only be possible to comment on a few examples, but these will suffice to frame
the problem of how Ibn 'Arabi subtly interprets Abu Yazid in terms of his own overall
perspective. Our main check will be the largest and oldest independent collection of the
sayings of Abu Yazid, which was assembled in the eleventh century by al-Sahlagi (d. 1083)
under the title Kitb al-nr min kalimt Ab Tayfr ("The Book of Light on the Sayings of Abu
Tayfur [Abu Yazid]")- The archaic and faulty Arabic text, with full isnds, was edited by 'Abd alRahman Badawi from two MSS in 1949, and a considerably abridged French translation by
Abdelwahab Meddeb has recently appeared.[23]
We may first consider cases where Ibn 'Arabi has reported the sayings of Abu Yazid with little
or slight variation. An example is a saying on inspired exegesis. Ibn 'Arabi reports the
following:
Abu Yazid said to the exoteric scholars, "You take your knowledge dead from the dead, but we
take our knowledge from the Living who does not die!"[24]
If we compare the version given by al-Sahlagi, we find an account with the isnad plus a
slightly different context:
Yusuf ibn al-Husayn said, "I heard Istanba [Ibrahim al-Harawi] say, 'I was attending the
assembly of Abu Yazid, and the people said, "So-and-so has met so-and-so." Abu Yazid said,
"Beggars! They have taken [their knowledge] from the dead, but I have taken our knowledge
from the Living who does not die." ' " [25]
The basic point is the same, although the nuances are different. Ibn 'Arabi's version does not
refer to the people praising scholars for their direct transmission of learning from other
scholars - Abu Yazid ridiculed this as a dead letter in comparison with the living God who is
always accessible to the saint. Rather than being a comment on exoteric learning occasioned
by a chance remark, Ibn 'Arabi's version is a direct address to exoteric scholars as a class.
There are other slight differences of tense and person that make al-Sahlagi's version more
circumstantial and Ibn 'Arabi's more general. But none of this has major significance.

Another example is a saying which, shorn of context, becomes for Ibn 'Arabi an opportunity to
explain a general point about the relationship between the servant and the divine Lord. Ibn
'Arabi's comment actually precedes and sets up the quotation from Abu Yazid:
At root the servant was created only to belong to God and to be a servant perpetually. He was
not created to be a lord. So when God clothes him in the robe of mastership and commands
him to appear in it, he appears as a servant in himself and a master in the view of the
observer. This is the ornament of the Lord, the robe that He has placed upon him. Someone
objected to Abu Yazid that the people touched him with their hands and sought blessing from
him (f tamassuh al-ns wa tabarrukihim). He replied, "They are not touching me, they are
only touching an adornment with which my Lord has adorned me. Should I forbid them from
that, when it does not belong to me?"[26]
The earlier version is somewhat different. It gives a dramatic account of a meeting between
the youthful Abu Yazid and a condescending hadthscholar, to whom Abu Yazid replies with a
stunning revelation of his level of mystical experience:
A man from the Hadith Folk said to Abu Yazid, "Do you pray properly?" He said, "Yes, God
willing." So he asked, "How do you pray?" He said, "I proclaim 'God is Most Great' in
obedience, I recite with modulation, I kneel in veneration, I prostrate with humility, and I give
salutation full of peace." Then he said, "Boy, if you have this understanding, excellence, and
knowledge, why do you permit the people to touch you seeking blessing?" He replied, "They
are not touching me, they are only touching an adornment with which my Lord has adorned
me. Should I forbid them from that, when it does not belong to me?"[27]
While Ibn 'Arabi has quoted Abu Yazid's words without significant variation, his omission of the
context has displaced a story about the contrast between mystical experience and scholarly
learning and transformed it into an instance of a metaphysical relationship.
Next are cases in which Ibn 'Arabi has given a critical interpretation of Abu Yazid's saying, in
which there is a major textual difference between Ibn 'Arabi's version and Sahlagi's. Here is an
example:
Abu Yazid heard a Qu'ran reciter reciting the verse, "On the day when We shall muster the
godfearing to the All-merciful in droves" [19:85]. He wept until his tears drummed upon the
pulpit. It is also said that blood flowed from his eyes until it struck the pulpit. He cried out,
saying, "How strange! Where will he who is sitting with Him be mustered?" When it came
around to our time, I was asked about that. I replied: "There is nothing strange except the
words of Abu Yazid." [28]
Ibn 'Arabi goes on to say that the "godfearing" are those souls who are related to the divine
name "the Overbearing" (al-jabbar), not to the name "the All-merciful". He finds it peculiar
that Abu Yazid has not noticed that the Qur'an paradoxically connects the "godfearing" with
what appears to be the wrong divine name. Ibn 'Arabi explains this apparent anomaly by
pointing out that each divine name, by denoting the divine Essence, implies all the other divine
names. Elsewhere, Ibn 'Arabi introduces the same anecdote with a long comment expanding
on his doctrine of the divine names and Abu Yazid's failure to understand them.

Do you not see how Abu Yazid (God have mercy on him) acted, when he was ignorant of the
divine names and which realities are appropriate to them, on hearing [this verse?]... In this
state, he was sitting with the Names, insofar as none of them indicates the Essence; [but] he
was not with the name, insofar as... he experienced denial, or rather he experienced wonder
in a special way, which is similar to denial but is not denial, so that if this saying had been
from other than God, he would have commanded the speaker to be silent and restrained him
from that. The man only showed wonder at the word of God in respect to the godfearing who
are sitting with God; how will they be mustered to Him?[29]
Ibn 'Arabi notes that Abu Yazid was amazed at the paradox of how God will summon those
(the godfearing) who are already in His presence, but he discounts this explanation as a lack
of metaphysical comprehension.
If we turn to Sahlagi's collection, it turns out that what Ibn 'Arabi has reported is a conflation
of separate accounts of Abu Yazid's reactions to two Qur'anic verses. First, Sahlagi gives two
versions of Abu Yazid's response to the "mustering" verse (19:85):
1. "He got excited (hja) and said, 'Whoever is with Him has no need to be mustered, because
he is sitting with Him eternally.' "[30]
2. "He became ecstatic and enraptured (tawjada wa hma), and started saying, 'Whoever is
with Him has no need to be mustered, because he is sitting with Him eternally.' "[31]
These two versions only differ in the language used to describe Abu Yazid's emotional state.
The terms alluded to in each case indicate delighted ecstasy (wajd, hayajn, hayamn) rather
than doubtful wonderment.[32] Abu Yazid's remark belongs to the ecstatic critique of literal
interpretations of the afterlife. In the context of early Sufism, this follows from the
dissatisfaction with paradise as a final goal (Rabi'a, Shaqiq al-Balkhi), and it forms a part of
the outrageous ecstatic sayings that Abu Yazid and Shibli delivered about hell and judgment.
[33]
Secondly, the detail mentioned by Ibn 'Arabi, that Abu Yazid wept tears of blood onto the
pulpit on hearing the verse, occurs in Sahlagi's report of his reaction to an altogether different
Qur'anic passage:
Abu Yazid one Friday sat above the pulpit, and the preacher sat on the pulpit and preached;
when he reached this verse: "They did not truly measure the power of God" [6:91], Abu Yazid
heard, and blood fell from his eyes until it struck the pulpit.[34]*
From the content of the verse, it appears that the emotional setting for Abu Yazid's powerful
reaction was overwhelming awe. The complex situations and different textual settings of
Sahlagi's versions vary considerably from the portrayal of Ibn 'Arabi.
In one of his most intriguing sayings, Abu Yazid describes himself as the man without
attributes. This saying has been commented on several times by Ibn 'Arabi and others, with
textual variants that permit us to distinguish divergent interpretations of the saying. Ibn 'Arabi
informs us that Abu Yazid used to say, "I have no morning and no evening; morning and
evening belong to him who becomes delimited by attributes, but I have no attributes."[35] He

comments that God should be even less delimited by attributes: "The Real is more
appropriately free from limitation (taqyd) by attributes, due to His independence from the
world, for attributes are only required by existing things. If there was in the Real that which
the world requires, then it would not be correct that He be independent of that which seeks
Him."[36] In another place, Ibn 'Arabi gives the text in a slightly different form, reading
"Morning and evening only belong to one who becomes delimited by the attribute, but I have
no attribute."[37] This citation occurs in the midst of Ibn 'Arabi's lexicon of Sufi terminology
(which comprises the answer to al-Tirmidhi's 153rd question), under the definition of the term
"place"(makn):
It is a station in "expansion" (bast) which only belongs to the perfect ones who have realized
the stations and states, and who are permitted the station which is beyond majesty and
beauty; they have no attribute or description. Abu Yazid was asked, "How are you this
morning?" He said, "Morning and evening only belong to one who is limited by the attribute,
but I have no attribute."
After narrating Abu Yazid's saying, Ibn 'Arabi comments, "Our companions differ over whether
or not this saying is an ecstatic utterance (shath), but 'place' requires it of him."[38] We shall
return to the question of ecstatic utterances below, but for the moment it suffices to notice
that Ibn 'Arabi's frequent references to this saying primarily indicate his interest in the
problem of attributes and the concept of delimitation. This has theological ramifications for the
divine attributes as well as mystical significance for those who have, like Abu Yazid, gone
beyond the attributes.[39]
Other Sufis give a different version of this saying with an interpretation that follows another
line entirely. Ruzbihan Baqli follows the version given by Sahlagi: "Morning and evening only
belong to one who is held by the attribute, but as for me, I have no attribute."[40] This
version preserves a much more archaic flavor than Ibn 'Arabi's version, which uses a term
from his own technical vocabulary; instead of saying that one is "held by"(ta'khudhuhu) the
attribute, Ibn 'Arabi's version has it that one is "limited by" (taqayyada bi-) the attribute.
[41] In his original Arabic version of the commentary on ecstatic sayings, the Mantiq alasrr ("The Language of Consciences"), Ruzbihan Baqli comments that Abu Yazid's experience
of witnessing God has taken him beyond time, to participate for a moment in eternity:
By this saying he alludes to his being drowned in the vision of eternity, and none of his
attributes remains in the vision of the might of the Real. "God has no morning or evening."
Morning and evening are from the coursing of sun and moon in the heavens, and in the
conscience of Abu Yazid during the witnessing of the Real there was no existence of one who is
less than "by the Real, with the Real, in the Real". He did not perceive time, place, the
moment, or the seasons in this momentary state. I recall what the Master of the Gnostics [i.e.,
the Prophet] said, "I have a time with God."
In his own later Persian translation of the same commentary on ecstatic sayings (Sharh-i
shathiyyt), Ruzbihan appears to have had new thoughts on the subject. He now begins by
stressing passion, ecstasy, and annihilation as the main features of Abu Yazid's experience:
He alludes to ravishing (walah) and agitation (hayajn), and astonishment (hayrat) and
bewilderment (hayamn), that is: "I am intoxicated and unconscious. From hearing the

commands of creation without an ear, peace has been stripped from me, the bird of the
elements and time has flown, my soul is lost in the hidden of the hidden, the form of existence
has become changed for me, I remain in bewilderment without the attribute of wayfaring.
Having recited the existence of the verse "Everything upon it is vanishing" (fanin, Qur. 11:26,
alluding tofan'), I am in the world without any trace, lifeless in love, and in the falsification of
intellect and the confirmation of love, I cannot tell day from night.
Only after exhausting this theme does he return to the earlier interpretation of transcending
time through witnessing God:
It is also possible that he alludes to the drowning of the soul in the vision of eternity, and in
this cypher he explains that in eternity, the soul has no traces of temporal existence. "There is
no morning or evening for God."[43]
The saying "There is no morning or evening for God", also cited as hadth by other Sufi
writers,[44] brings Ruzbihan to invoke another Prophetic saying, "The time I have with God",
the eternity that is the mode of relationship between God and the prophet. He concludes, "Abu
Yazid became qualified by the all in the essence of the all."
The variance between the views of Ruzbihan and Ibn 'Arabi does not provide any grounds for
privileging one line of interpretation over any other - Ruzbihan has felt free to elaborate new
interpretations and relegate his own earlier thoughts to a secondary position. Divergent texts
and interpretations indicate rather that these Sufis used the sayings of earlier mystics as a
way to explore the possibilities of meaning and experience rather than search for a single
authoritative teaching. If we wished, we might try to reconstruct Abu Yazid's "doctrine" of
divine attributes, on the basis of a number of passages in which he uses the term sifa or
attribute.[45] Such an archeological purpose did not play a part in the projects of either Ibn
'Arabi or Ruzbihan.
Another instance of Ibn 'Arabi's reflection on Abu Yazid contains a complex meditation on two
different sayings about the all-encompassing nature of the heart.
The heart of the gnostic is infinite and contains all. Abu Yazid said, "If the Throne and all that
surrounds it, multiplied a hundred million times, were to be in one of the many corners of the
Heart of the gnostic, he would not be aware of it." This was the scope of Abu Yazid in the
realm of corporeal forms. I say, however, that, were limitless existence, if its limit could be
imagined, together with the essence that brought it into existence, to be put into one of the
corners of the Heart of the gnostic, he would have no consciousness of it. It is established that
the Heart encompasses the Reality, but though it be filled, it thirsts on, as Abu Yazid said.[46]
Is this one-upmanship? It appears that Ibn 'Arabi criticizes Abu Yazid for merely using God's
Throne as the measure of the heart, instead of all of existence and the divine essence too. Ibn
'Arabi's commentator Qashani feels required to explain,
There is no criticism here, rather he means that Abu Yazid, in his universal specification, gazed
at the realm of corporeal forms through annihilation. But if he had gazed with the eye of God,
he would have said something like [what Ibn 'Arabi said]; it was [seen by] the eye of the
realm of corporeal forms, however, which is related to the beloveds by existent things.[47]

Thus the different comparisons used by the two mystics are merely a function of their different
perspectives. The appearance of criticism is mitigated, too, by Ibn 'Arabi's reference to the
infinite thirst of the gnostic's heart, which Abu Yazid has expressed in several sayings. It
seems as though Ibn 'Arabi uses the experiences and sayings of Abu Yazid as points of
departure for exploring his own experiences.[48]
In spite of his frequent reference to Abu Yazid and the high regard in which he held him, Ibn
'Arabi shows a certain ambivalence with regard to some of his sayings. We have already seen
how Ibn 'Arabi pointed to limitations in Abu Yazid's comprehension of the divine names, and to
certain mystical perceptions that Ibn 'Arabi had surpassed. His ambivalence becomes most
pronounced when it comes to the classification of Abu Yazid's sayings as ecstatic
utterances (shathiyyt). As shown above, Ibn 'Arabi resisted the suggestion that the "no
attributes" saying was an ecstatic utterance, arguing instead that the state of "place' required
him (iqtidhu) to speak. This comment needs to be placed into the context of Ibn 'Arabi's
attitude towardshathiyyt.
In his lexicon of mystical terminology, Ibn 'Arabi briefly defined shath as "a verbal expression
having a scent of thoughtlessness (ru'na) and a claim, which issues from an
ecstasy (tawqjjud) of the realizers of truth, the people of the religious law."[49] His unease
with this category stems from its association with lack of mental control and from the
assertiveness of its claims, even though it may emerge as a result of a legitimate spiritual
state. In a fuller account of shath in Chapter 195 of al-Futht al-Makkiyya, Ibn 'Arabi
elaborated further, describing it as a legitimate spiritual claim made without any divine
command and by way of boasting (fakhr). Chittick conveys Ibn 'Arabi's disapproval of shath by
translating the term as "unruly utterance".[50] Ibn 'Arabi contrasted this irrepressible form of
speaking with the self-control of prophets such as Jesus, who only speak by God's command
and never boast. Indulging in shath is thus a result of heedlessness that never befalls the true
knower of God except by accident. Falsely claiming a spiritual state is of course nothing better
than a contemptible lie. Ibn 'Arabi rightly isolates boasting as a characteristic element
in shath, for its cultural antecedents go back to the boasting contest (mufkhara) of preIslamic Arabia.[51] Ibn 'Arabi's distinctiveness lies in his rejecting the boast as an improper
assertion of self, while other Sufis view it as a rhetorical form that is an acceptable genre for
the expression of ecstasy.
It is curious that in his discussion of shath, Ibn 'Arabi does not refer to any particular ecstatic
utterances of the Sufis, preferring instead to give examples of the sayings of Jesus from the
Qur'an by way of contrast. This is odd because on numerous occasions, Ibn 'Arabi cites famous
examples ofshathiyyt (often without mentioning the names of their authors), in the context
of other discussions, sometimes interpreting the same shath in radically different ways
depending on the context. For instance, he continues his critical attitude toward spiritual
arrogance, pointing out that those who say "I am God" or "Glory be to Me" are like Pharaoh;
this condition is only possible when one is overcome by a state such as heedlessness, and it is
not possible with a prophet or perfect saint.52 Although this remark does not mention Abu
Yazid by name, he is clearly intended, although we have no evidence of Abu Yazid using the
phrase "I am God" (an allh).[53] Elsewhere, in contrast, Ibn 'Arabi cites this very saying
favorably, to illustrate the state of "the proximity of supererogatory works" (qurb alnawfil). He says (in allusion to a hadth quds) that the only ones who can say "I am God" are
God and the perfect servant whose tongue, hearing, sight, faculties, and organs are God - an

example of this is Abu Yazid.[54] In another context, Ibn 'Arabi again refers to Abu Yazid as
one who loves God so passionately that he does not see God as different from him, and God
loves him to the point of being his hearing, sight, and tongue.[55] Ambiguously, he comments
on this state by quoting anonymously the first distich of a famous verse of Hallaj: "I am the
one whom I desire, whom I desire is I" (an man ahw wa man ahw an).[56] As in the case
of Abu Yazid, Hallaj was someone whose spiritual status Ibn 'Arabi respected, though he
expressed reservations about Hallaj's unrestrained speech.[57] A comprehensive analysis of
Ibn 'Arabi's comments on the ecstatic sayings of Abu Yazid and al-Hallaj would certainly be
desirable, but from these few examples it is clear that Ibn 'Arabi sometimes dismisses ecstatic
sayings as improper behavior, but that at other times he gives them a positive value in terms
of recognized mystical knowledge. In fact, Ibn 'Arabi makes it clear that the words of the
saints do not have any independent meaning aside from the spiritual state(hal) of the saint, as
he understands it. Regarding the interpretation of two sayings on the subject of
"gathering" (jam') by an anonymous Sufi and by al-Daqqaq, Ibn 'Arabi remarks,
He may mean this, which is the position that we maintain and that the realities bestow. If we
knew who is the author of this saying, we would judge it by his state, as we judged al-Daqqaq
through our knowledge of his station and state.
The same words could have another meaning if uttered by someone else in a different state.
To return to the "man without qualities" saying, it appears that Ibn 'Arabi regarded it as
distinct from shath or ecstatic utterance, on the grounds that the spiritual state
required (iqtid) its expression by Abu Yazid. In other words, Abu Yazid did not say it of his
own volition, as a boast, but he was in effect ordered to do so by God. In this way it remains a
valid source of spiritual knowledge rather than the willful result of thoughtlessness or frivolity.
Ruzbihan Baqli, on the other hand, classified this saying as shath without qualification; in his
view that classification, far from discrediting the saying, raised it to a level of lofty spiritual
experience. The difference lies in the varying attitudes of the two authors toward ecstatic
expressions. Yet there is a rhetorical tone in some of Ibn 'Arabi's sayings about his own
experiences that suggests shath, especially when he contrasts the experiences of others
unfavorably with his own. In terms of his own theory as just discussed, however, Ibn 'Arabi's
descriptions of his spiritual attainments do not constitute boasting, because he has not
expressed them of his own will. On numerous occasions, Ibn 'Arabi maintains that his books
and teachings have been the direct products of the divine will: "I swear by God, I say nothing,
I announce no judgment that does not proceed from an inbreathing of the divine spirit in my
heart."[59] Although technically this escapes from the reproach of boasting, since it is under
divine command, it nonetheless has the appearance of a rhetoric of transcendental hyperbole
that shares important characteristics with shath. When he says that none of his teachings
derive from his own will, Ibn 'Arabi is making the boast that he makes no boast.
To continue this line of thinking, one might view, for instance, the claims of later Naqshbandi
Sufis such as Ahmad Sirhindi as a continual raising of the stakes vis--vis earlier Sufis (such
as Ibn 'Arabi!) in a sort of spiritual one-upmanship, and it is worth noting that some of
Sirhindi's statements were also characterized as ecstatic utterances.[60] If Ibn 'Arabi's
statements are not simply taken at face value as irrefutable guides to his spiritual status, then
his critical attitude toward shath should be taken with a grain of salt. Ibn 'Arabi's dramatic
statements about his own status as the "seal of the saints", for example, place him in a

position beyond that of any other saint and only just below the prophets. To regard this as
devoid of boasting while rejecting the ecstatic sayings of Abu Yazid or Hallaj amounts to
special privilege. Unless an argument is to be made for extending this special privilege to Ibn
'Arabi, then his interpretations of earlier Sufis should be treated as exactly that. I suggest that
analysis of this kind of rhetoric of transcendental hyperbole, as an extension of the boasting
factor of shath, would be a fruitful way to approach the self-descriptions of a number of later
Sufis.
How should we understand the distinctive interpretation that Ibn 'Arabi gives to the sayings of
Abu Yazid? On the issue of selection, judgment must be deferred until a comprehensive study
can be made of all the references that Ibn 'Arabi makes to his predecessor. In terms of textual
transmission and variants we can say more, based on the examples reviewed above. It would
be trivial and idiotic to complain that Ibn 'Arabi has forgotten or willfully altered an existing
text, just because the versions that he gives sometimes differ from those found in Sahlagi and
others. The textual variants have greater significance than that. As Chittick remarks, "In his
usual manner, Ibn 'Arabi has in mind the sayings of earlier masters as the background for
what he wants to explain, but then he takes the concept... back to its deepest meaning in the
divine realities."[61] Some of the textual variants described above certainly permit Ibn 'Arabi
to expound upon his characteristic teachings on the divine attributes and the relation between
God and humanity. It is in this doctrinal level of interpretation that we find the distinctive
position of Ibn 'Arabi, in contrast with the positions of other interpreters such as Ruzbihan
Baqli. Ibn 'Arabi is also selective in how he categorizes the genre of the sayings of his
predecessors. Sayings classified as ecstatic utterances, even though proceeding from a
genuine spiritual state, cannot be accepted as sources of doctrine. Sayings that emerge by
divine necessity, untainted by the boasting of shath, may be treated as authoritative. Ibn
'Arabi does not make clear what criteria he uses to describe a statement as ecstatic boasting
rather than authoritative inspiration; he at different times considers the same statement as
falling under both categories. If Ibn 'Arabi's treatment of shath partakes, however lightly, of
the rhetoric of boasting, then his interpretation of the sayings and states of earlier Sufis also
subordinates them to his own immediate doctrinal and experiential concerns.
Beyond the question of doctrinalization, we must also attempt to understand his use of
quotations in terms of the function of texts, both written and oral, in Sufism; Ibn 'Arabi is
certainly not unique in this respect, but he has worked out his method in marvellously
complete detail. If it is true that words, like people, find their meaning in contexts, it is really
only through the revoicing of a word, through its quotation from the mouth of another human
being, that words receive life so a quotation approached in this way is not a fixed external
text that is "dead from the dead", but is instead inspired (in the words of Abu Yazid) "by the
Living who does not die". Abu Yazid's status as an Uwaysi guide, appearing directly like Khidr
to inspire later generations of Sufis, may also have contributed to the flexibility with which Ibn
'Arabi invokes him via quotation.[62]
We should recall that Ibn 'Arabi's model for a text is the Qur'an, a text that is fully
personalized, for it is inseparable from the Messenger who brings it. It is also deeply
enmeshed in the being of the perfect saint who actualizes the scripture; as Ibn 'Arabi puts it,
"the universal man is the Qur'an".[63]Ibn 'Arabi himself is a person who is fully textualized; he
maintains that "everything about which we speak, both in [my] teaching sessions and in my
writings, comes only from the presence of the Qur'an and its treasures."[64] For him, the

Qur'an, hadth, and the sayings and visions of the saints who are the inheritors of the prophets
are not separate elements to be stitched together by laborious allegoresis. They are rather a
seamless whole apprehended in a single intuition. The Qur'an (and by extension the sayings of
the saints) is for Ibn 'Arabi no dead letter, but perpetually renewed for every reciter.[65]
Quotation and interpretation, when viewed in this light, are not merely literary enterprises.
The metaphor of giving life recalls another story that Ibn 'Arabi relates about Abu Yazid. It
seems that Abu Yazid blew on an ant he had killed, and it revived; Ibn 'Arabi comments that
God blew when he blew, and it was like Jesus' miracles as recorded in the Qur'an.[66] Despite
its bizarre appearance, this story commends itself as a metaphor for quotation. As with the ant
killed by Abu Yazid, the words of the saints have undergone some violence in the course of
textual transmission, but their death is necessary before they can be inspired and revived.
Quotation, textual variation, and classification cannot be separated from interpretation. Ibn
'Arabi explained his teachings by reciting and interpreting the words of Sufi saints, so that he
could become the revivifier of the faith.

Notes
[1] An earlier version of this article was originally presented at the conference of the
Muhyiddin Ibn 'Arabi Society, "The Revivifier of The Way", Berkeley CA, 15 November 1992.
[2] Although the Cairo edition lists 155 questions (al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 39-139), Osman
Yahia's critical edition lists 157; cf. Michel Chodkiewicz, ed.,Les Illuminations de La
Mecque/The Meccan Illuminations (Paris: Sindbad, 1988), p. 500, n. 178; id., Le Sceau des
saints: Prophtie et saintet dans la doctrine d'lbn 'Arabi, Bibliothque des Sciences Humaines
(Paris: Gallimard, 1986), pp. 146 ff.
[3] Claude Addas, Ibn 'Arabi ou la qute du Soufre Rouge, Bibliotheque des Sciences
Humaines (Paris: Gallimard, 1989), pp. 77-8.
[4] Ibn 'Arabi, La vie merveilleuse de Dhu-l-Nun l'Egyptien, trans. Roger Deladriere (Paris:
Sindbad, 1988).
[5] Deladriere, La Vie, pp. 39-41.
[6] Deladriere, La Vie, pp. 42-4. Al-Suyuti's work has a similar complexity, relying on
extensive quotations from two works by Ibn Bakuya, from Abu Nu'aym, al-Sulami, and
Bayhaqi.
[7] I have explored an instance of this problem of transmission in "The Interpretation of
Classical Sufi Texts in India: The Sham'il al-atqiy' of Rukn al-Din Kashani", paper presented
at the American Academy of Religion conference, San Francisco, November 1992.
[8] For details, see my "Ruzbihan Baqli on Love as 'Essential Desire'", in God is Beautiful and
Loves Beauty: Essays in Honor of Annemarie Schimmel, ed. J.-C. Brgel and Alma Giese
(forthcoming).

[9] William Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge: Ibn al-'Arabi's Metaphysics of
Imagination (Albany: SUNY Press, 1989), p. 387, n. 8 (hereafter cited as SPK).
[10] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya III 34.11 (this category includes other figures such as Hamdun alQassar and Abu Sa'id al-Kharraz)
[11] Ibid., II 40.16-17 (citing also Sahl al-Tustari); this occurs in response to the first of alHakim al-Tirmidhi's 157 questions directed to "the seal of the saints", in the first wasl of
chapter 73 of al-Futht al-Makkiyya.
[12] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya III 316.27; trans. SPK, p. 40.
[13] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 657.34; trans. SPK, p. 392, n. 34.
[14] Ibid., I 261.11; cf. trans, in SPK, p. 392, n. 34.
[15] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 318.30-2 (citing also Sahl al-Tustari, Ibn al-'Arif, and Abu
Madyan); trans. SPK, p. 149.
[16] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 6.15, 30-1. For commentary on these terms, see
Chodkiewicz, Le Sceau, p. 120.

[17] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya I 99.9-11.

[18] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya I 251.33, 252.10-15; cf. Chodkiewicz, Le Sceau, p. 141.

[19] Chodkiewicz, Le Sceau, p. 179, n. 3; Addas, Ibn 'Arabi, p. 87, n.l; p. 89, citing Mawqi'
al-nujm, p. 140; pp. 128-9, citing Muhdart al-abrr.
[20] Abu Nasr 'Abdallah B. 'Ali al-Sarraj al-Tusi, The Kitb al-Lum' fi't-Tasawwuf, ed. Reynold
Alleyne Nicholson, "E. J. W. Gibb Memorial" Series, vol. XXII (London, 1914; reprint edn,
London: Luzac, 1963), pp. 380-95.
[21] On Sahlagi (Arabicized as al-Sahlaki or al-Sahlaji), see Georges Vajda, "Une breve
typologie du soufisme: K. Rh al-Rh, opuscule indit de Muhammad b. 'Ali al-Sahlaki alBistami", Arabica 29 (1982), pp. 307-14.
[22] Ruzbihan Baqli, Sharh-i shathiyyt, ed. Henry Corbin, Bibliotheque Iranienne, 12 (Tehran:
Departement d'iranologie de l'lnstitut Franco-iranien, 1966), pp. 78-147, commenting on
thirty-one sayings; Abu Hamid Muhammad ibn Abi Bakr Ibrahim Farid al-Din 'Attar
Nishaburi, Kitb-i tadhkirat al-awliy', ed. R. A. Nicholson (5th edn, Tehran: Intisharat-i
Markaz, n.d.), I, pp. 129-66.
[23] 'Abd al-Rahman Badawi, Shataht al-Sfiyya, Part One, Ab Yazid al-Bistm, Darasat
Islamiyya 9 (Cairo: Maktaba al-Nahda al-Misriyya, 1949); Abdelwahab Meddeb, trans., Les
Dits de Bistami: Shataht, L'espace intrieur 38 (Paris: Fayard, 1989). Meddeb cites the Arabic
text according to a reprint of Badawi's edition, published in Kuwait in 1978; this was not
available to me.
[24] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya, I 280.25; SPK, p. 249.

[25] Badawi, Shataht, p. 77; trans. Meddeb, p. 58, no. 71.

[26] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya, III 136.8, trans. SPK, p. 323.
[27] Badawi, Shataht, p. 76 (trans. Meddeb, p. 57, no. 68).
[28] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya I 210.7, III 212.34, trans, in SPK, p. 37.
[29] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya III 212.34-213.10.
[30] Badawi, Shataht, p. 23, no. 24 (citing Hilya X, 41), trans. Meddeb, p. 182, no. 453 (in n.
133, Meddeb mistakenly assumes that the source for this saying is Sarraj).
[31] Badawi, Shatahat, p. 119 (trans. Meddeb, p. 129, no. 302, in a truncated form that
preserves only Abu Yazid's response).
[32] For these terms, see my "The Stages of Love in Early Persian Sufism, from Rabi'a to
Ruzbihan," in The Legacy of Mediaeval Persian Sufism, ed. Leonard Lewisohn (London:
Khaniqahi Nimatullahi, 1993).
[33] See Shibli in my Words of Ecstasy in Sufism (Albany: SUNY Press, 1985), p. 38.
[34] Badawi, Shataht, p. 110 (omitted by Meddeb, this follows the saying he numbers 253).
[35] SPK, p. 65, with note 9, giving a plural form "attributes".
[36] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya IV 319.32-3.
[37] Innam al-sabh wa al-mas' li-man taqayyada bil-sifa, wa l sifata l.
[38] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 133.21-3.
[39] Other references to the "man without attributes" include al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 646.29
(trans. SPK, p. 376); II 187.11; III 106.16 (see SPK, p. 391, n. 9). The similar expression "no
station" (Qur. 33:13) designates the rank of Abu Yazid and other "Muhammadans" who are
heirs of the prophet(al-Futht al-Makkiyya I 223.2, trans. SPK, p. 377); place (makn) is a
transcendent location for Idris (Qur. 19:57) and other perfect ones who have, like Abu Yazid,
passed beyond states and stations; cf. II 386.19 (SPK, p. 379). Other citations occur in alFutht al-Makkiyya III 177, 216, 500; IV 28. Chodkiewicz, Le Sceau, pp. 52-4, links the "no
attributes" saying with Abu Yazid's definitions of sainthood as reported by Sulami and
Qushayri.
[40] Badawi, Shataht, p. 70, repeated on p. 111. Meddeb (p. 70, no. 47) translates, "Le
matin et le soir sont pour celui sur qui l'attribut a prise; et moi, je'echappe a tout attribut."
[41] For the use of the term taqyd and related terms, see SPK, index, s.v. "qayd". The
term ta'khudhuhu recalls the Throne Verse (2:256), "Slumber does not hold him (la
ta'khudhuhu), neither does he sleep." Curiously, Ruzbihan's Persian translation does not
preserve the nuance, translating the saying as "Morning and evening belong to that person

who has no attribute..." (bmdd u shabngh n kas-r bshad kih -r sifat

bshad); cf. Shark,no. 77, p. 137.
[42] Ruzbihan, Mantiq al-asrr, MS Louis Massignon collection, Paris, fol. 83a/3 (innam alsabh wa al-mas' li-man ya'khudhuhu [sic] al-sifa, wa l sifata l).
[43] Ruzbihan Baqli, Sharh, no. 77, p. 137.
[44] 'Ayn al-Qudat Hamadani, Tamhdt, ed. 'Afif 'Usayran, Intisharat-i Danishgah-iTihran, 695
(Tehran: Chapkhana-iDanishgah, 1341/1962), p. 213.
[45] E.g., Badawi, Shataht, pp. 78 (Meddeb, p. 60, no. 79), 79 (Meddeb, p. 62, no. 88), 82
(Meddeb, p. 67, no. 110), 111 (Meddeb, p. 116, no. 260). Similarly, one might contrast Ibn
'Arabi's use of the "no attributes" saying to define makn with Abu Yazid's long description
of makn, in Badawi,Shataht, p. 75 (trans. Meddeb, p. 54, no. 63).
[46] Fuss al-Hikam Ch. VI; Ibn al-'Arabi, The Bezels of Wisdom, trans. R. W. J. Austin,
Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), pp. 101-2. Cf. also Ch. XII,
trans. Austin, p. 148, for another brief citation of this saying.
[47] 'Abd al-Razzaq al-Qashani, Sharh 'al fuss al-Hikam (2nd edn, Egypt: Mustafa Babi
Halabi wa Awladuh, 1386/1966), p. 109.
[48] Another example is Ibn 'Arabi's entry into the state of proximity or qurba, recalling the
solitude that Abu Yazid experienced on entering this state, but then reflecting that this state is
his homeland and thus is no cause for loneliness. Cf. al-Futht al-Makkiyya, II 261.2-4, trans.
Denis Gril, inIlluminations, p. 340.
[49] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 133.23-4.
[50] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 387.8-388.26, trans. Chittick, Illuminations, pp. 265-74.
[51] Ernst, Words of Ecstasy, pp. 36-40.
[52] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya I 276.2, trans. SPK, p. 320.
[53] Abu Yazid regards allah as the only divine name that cannot be applied to a creature;
Badawi, Shataht, p. 82 (trans. Meddeb, p. 67, no. 110). Abu Yazid did actually use the claim
of Pharaoh as reported in the Qur'an, "I am your highest lord" (Words of Ecstasy, p. 51), but
this may be another case in which Ibn 'Arabi treats the quotation in a flexible fashion.
[54] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya IV 11.16, in SPK, p. 410, n. 12. For the hadth al-nawfil, see
Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina
Press, 1975), pp. 43, 133, 144, 277.
[55] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 361.9-11; cf. the translation of Maurice Gloton, Trait de
I'amour, Spiritualits vivantes, 60 (Paris: Albin Michel, 1986), pp. 257-8.

[56] Louis Massignon, ed., Le Dwn d'al-Hallaj (new edn, Paris: Librairie Orientaliste Paul
Geuthner, 1955), no. 57, p. 93.
[57] On Ibn 'Arabi's ambivalent attitude toward Hallaj, see Louis Massignon, La Passion de
Husayn Ibn Mansr Hallj (new edn, Paris: Gallimard, 1975), II, pp. 414-19.
[58] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya II 517.15, trans. Chittick, Illuminations, p. 284.
[59] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya III 101.6-7; trans. Chodkiewicz, Illuminations, p. 24. Cf. alFutht al-Makkiyya II 456, trans. Chodkiewicz, ibid.: "I have not written a single letter of this
book except under the effect of a divine dictation, of a lordly projection, of a spiritual
inbreathing at the heart of my being." The introduction to Fuss al-Hikam describes the
Prophet Muhammad handing the book to Ibn 'Arabi and ordering him to disseminate its
teachings, and commentators sometimes fall back on that to defend controversial positions.
[60] Yohanan Friedmann, Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi. An Outline of His Thought and a Study of
His Image in the Eyes of Posterity (Montreal: McGill-Queen's University Press, 1971), pp. 94-6.
Sirhindi explicitly claimed a spiritual status that exceeded both Abu Yazid and Ibn 'Arabi,
observing that their claims were based on improperly interpreted experiences that his own
teachings clarified; his critics in turn charged him with arrogance. See Ghulam 'Ali Azad
Bilgrami, Subhat al-marjn f thr Hindstn, ed. Muhammad Fadl al-Rahman al-Nadwi alSiwani (Aligarh: Jami'at Aligarh al-Islamiyya, 1972), I, pp. 131-7, and Friedmann, pp. 28, 60,
62-8, 88.
[61] Chittick, in Illuminations, p. 256.
[62] I owe this insight to John Mercer.
[63] Ibn 'Arabi, Kitb al-isfr (Hyderabad, 1948), p. 17, trans. Chodkiewicz, Illuminations, pp.
42-3. From another point of view, the universe as a whole is a great Qur'an; ibid., pp. 38, 428.
[64] Al-Futht al-Makkiyya III 334.30, trans. J. W. Morris, Illuminations, p. 135; cf. p. 521, n.
64.
[65] Cf. al-Futht al-Makkiyya III 93, trans. Chodkiewicz, Illuminations, pp. 56-7.
[66] Fuss al-Hikam Ch. XV (trans. Austin, p. 179).
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