Some of us used to kneel
to pray, to share communion
to exchange vows, to grieve at a grave.
Even now,
when some of us have the chance or challenge
we kneel to weed a garden,
to examine a small flower along a path,
to play with a child,  to scrub a floor.
Kneeling has meant humbling ourselves
as a sign of a willingness
to use our hands and hearts to serve,
kneeling has meant humbling ourselves
in a posture of physical vulnerability
to indicate our willingness
to be emotionally and spiritually vulnerable
before the pains and angers of the world,
kneeling has meant humbling ourselves
to respect something greater than ourselves,
kneeling has meant humbling ourselves
to praise that which is worth praising,
May we not then kneel to mourn,
to honor those dishonored
by the rage,
the prejudice,
the accidents,
the negligence
of our imperfect world?

You know education is always a hot topic. Everybody has a share and interest in education: Parents, educators, government officials, elected public representatives, nonprofit organizations, religious groups, and so on. Besides, there are many aspects of education, such as finance, law, administration, etc. However, do you also think that teachers have long been overlooked regarding their authority in their own classes? Haven’t they been overlooked regarding their professional development, even though they are the backbone of the education system and they need some assistance in their efforts more than ever? It is good if you also think like me. It is even better if you don’t. Thus, you can share your recommendations with me once you see this school where things are done differently than many other contemporary schools. These teachers at this school see themselves as a learning society. They criticized the status quo they were in some time ago, and renewed themselves collectively. I want you to see the product. Let’s start our journey, shall we?

Room 114

We enter through the big doors of the school. Physically, it is not the best school you would ever see, but it can definitely be said that vitality and cleanliness of the halls stand out. The atmosphere is very welcoming; something is different, but it is hard to tell what it is. I point to the very first door on the right hand side. With pride, I ask if you would like to see this classroom. The sound coming from room 114 is not different from the sound that bees make when they work. As we approach the door, I understand that this is Ms. Williams and her eighth-grade students studying math. She welcomes us and tells us, “please come on in; there are some empty chairs over there,” pointing to two empty chairs, and we make our way towards to the back of the class and have our seats. This is a math class, but I don’t see any numbers on the board or equations being discussed. Soon, we understand that they finished the chapter on expressing roots of cubic equations last week, and today they are discussing a person named Omar Khayyam (1044 – 1123 C.E.). Ms. Williams knew that Omar Khayyam was a philosopher, mathematician, astronomer, and poet. She had formed her students into four groups, and assigned each of his professions to a group, so that they could do some research and present their findings to the whole class. I understand what you mean from the way you look at me: you’re sure this is a math class? you seem to be saying. You’re right to ask. Don’t they need to finish a chapter and pass to the next one immediately, and stay focused on the possible topics that are asked at the end-of-year tests?

Let’s hold on to that question; we can ask this after the class is dismissed. The first three groups already talked about his contributions to philosophy, astronomy, and poetry. We feel very fortunate not to miss at least the last group, who talk about him as a mathematician. I can see brightness in students’ eyes, and their excitement to share everything they have learned with their classmates. The first student, Omar who coincidentally happens to share a name with Omar Khayyam, begins. Omar Khayyam was a scholar among many others of his time. He is best known today for his poetry, but his contribution to mathematics was great. He showed how to express roots of cubic equations by line segments obtained by intersecting conic sections… Another student, Margaret continues: his work on algebra was known throughout Europe in the Middle Ages, and he also contributed to calendar reform. The algebra (from Arabic al-jabr) of Khayyam is geometrical, solving linear and quadratic equations by methods appearing in Euclid’s Elements… April inserts that Khayyam also gave important results on ratios giving a new definition and extending Euclid’s work to include the multiplication of ratios.

They continue their discussion, asking how these scholars tried to seek knowledge and an answer to who they were; and the great contributions they made towards peace and understanding among people of different origins. However, I am currently very much impressed and I lose myself in the beauty of these students’ discussion that I have found myself holding my breath and forgot about your presence next to me. It was no different than waking up from a dream when the bell was ringing. Sure, I will introduce you to Ms. Williams. I understand that you want to learn more about the uncommon method she adopted for this class: Ms. Williams, do you have a minute, please?

Of course, she says: “I have some time. It’s break time now.” You ask her about the topic and the way she formed her teaching method: Why would you choose a person from old history to discuss? Why do you want your students to talk about poetry or astronomy or philosophy in a math class? Do you think they know enough math to solve the questions on the end-of-year test? Why did you choose a Muslim scholar? Is this an Islamic or a secular school? Would you… and you realize you have bombarded her with your questions. You halt and smile.

She smiles back and says: “Yes, this is a secular state school. We try to practice secularism in a true sense that we can talk about religion, and bring religious materials to school to study, but we never try to impose these ideas into our students’ minds. They actually study very different kinds of perspectives, and they enjoy it very much. We take each student as a whole. Since our topic was roots of cubic equations, and Omer Khayyam was the father of the idea, you happened to see this example.”

“But why would you touch on different areas of study in a math class?” You say without taking a second breath.

Ms. Williams smiles again. “This is very common in our school. I am sure Mr. Wraga next door will also get into some math in his literature class since he knows my course syllabus. We try to keep our teachings interdisciplinary as much as possible. I receive feedback that kids enjoy it greatly. I understand your concern about the tests. However, testing is the very last thing we think of. Most of our students do well at those tests anyway, and those who cannot do so well are seen to be still successful mostly as artists or musicians…”

There is a long pause and silence now, but hurricanes are happening in our minds. How is it possible? What kind of philosophy is this school following? Is it the principal who leads these teachers like a conductor leading an orchestra? As Ms. Williams answered our questions, more questions kept popping up in our minds. The bell rings again, and the break is over. We thank her for letting us sit in the class. We make our way back to the hall again, and I am already elated with the intelligence of these students. You look at my eyes without saying a word, and smile: Room 115?

The best place to begin this discussion is with the Qur’an. There are numerous verses that mention love, but whenever the word love is used “the quality is always ascribed to God and human beings, and nothing else; and God’s love is always directed at human beings.” Not only does this mean that the relationship between God and human beings is unique, but love defines that unique relationship. In the verses that mention love for God, the Qur’an makes two important points. Firstly, God wants people to love him, and secondly, their love for God follows upon His love for them. The verse of the Qur’an most cited for this is “…whom He loves, and who love Him” (5:54). The inferences that Sufi mystics have drawn from this verse is that love cannot be learned, it is the result of divine grace, and the initiative comes from God. This feeling of God’s desire “to love and to be loved” inspired Rumi to suggest:

Not a single lover would seek union if the beloved were not seeking it.

The message of the Qur’an compelled Muslims to understand their relationship with God as one requiring reciprocated love. Sufi poets then searched for a vocabulary to describe their love for God, including words not found in the Qur’an or Hadiths.

In the early period of Sufism “the majority of teachings on love are contained in poems and brief statements that focus upon the human love for God, wherein there is always a duality between the human lover and the Divine Beloved.” This developed into a trend within Sufi thought in which “all aspects of creation and spiritual aspiration are presented in an imaginal language fired by love.” An important development in this trend was the use of the word for passionate love, ishq, rather than the more accepted vocabulary of the Qur’an. The Qur’anic terms for love are hubb and mahabba that describe the measured affection of God. Ishq came into the lexicon of Sufi poetry to describe “the essential desire for God and the love of God as an essential attribute, which fills the heart of the mystic.” Using the word ishq in a religious context means that:

Love is no longer merely an expression of gratitude for the blessings of God; it is no longer content with rigorous asceticism and meticulous ritual observance. It becomes an absolute necessity, entailing neither enjoyment nor alleviation, but intensifying as the reciprocity of the lover and the loved comes into effect.

By redefining their love for God as ishq, the early Sufi poets extended their vocabulary, and by doing this they could more accurately describe their inner response to the revelation of the Qur’an. The recognition of two types of love is expressed by Rabia in the following quatrain:

Two loves I give thee, love that yearns.
And love because thy due is love.
My yearning, my remembrance turns
To Thee, nor lets it from thee rove.

Here, Rabia identifies the spontaneous love for God she feels within herself – and the dutiful love she is obliged to give to God in the performance of her religious responsibilities. As Chittick wrote, “Love pertains to the experiential dimension of Sufism, not the theoretical; it must be experienced to be understood.” Sufism connects experiential knowledge to the belief that “nothing is dearer to God than that man loves him.” A mystic and poet who lived in Anatolia in the same period as Rumi, Yunus Emre, described the intensifying experience of love for God:

Your love has wrested me away from me
You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.
Day and night I burn, gripped by agony,
You’re the one I need, you’re the one I crave.
For Yunus Emre, “love is the most powerful of everything.”

When love for God is described in terms of passion then the language of romantic love is readily accessible to be adapted as the metaphoric language of the spiritual journey. In Sufi poetry there is a convention of the spiritual supplicant being called the lover of God, while God is referred to as the Beloved. Throughout Sufi poetry we read verses that elaborate ideas about the relationship of the lover and the Beloved. A good example of this is seen in this verse by Rumi:

Lovers share a sacred decree –
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.

Here God has two titles, the Beloved and the Beautiful One, but this poem could easily be read as secular love poetry. In this verse Rumi includes the beliefs that the impetus to love comes from God, as it is a sacred decree, and doing so is as unstoppable as the rush of water.

Another poem of Rumi that can be read as secular love poetry uses less recognizable references to God:

In one sweet moment
She burst from my heart.
There we sat on the floor,
drinking ruby wine.
Trapped by her beauty,
I saw and I touched –
My whole face became eyes,
All my eyes became hands.

Through the use of the conventional poetic symbols of his era, for example, drinking wine as a symbol for spiritual intoxication, the poet again express both secular and spiritual meanings simultaneously. As one of the translators of the above piece comments in his introduction to the selection of Rumi’s poems:

Nothing with Rumi can be taken literally: One must always be aware of the meaning behind the meaning, and the veils behind veils.

The translator Jonathon Star, says that Rumi, like other Sufi poets, at “the deepest level” of his poetry “tells only one story: the soul’s search for the Beloved.”

For Rumi, passionate love, ishq, has two expressions. The first is love in the material world, “like the love between male and female”, and the second is the “real love,” which is the “love felt toward God.” These couplets of Rumi’s explain how the poet signified both aspects of ishq:

Love is the attribute of God, who has no need of anyone. To be in love with other than Him is metaphorical love.
And
Love, be it real or metaphorical,
Ultimately takes humans to God.

These two couplets express two fundamental beliefs of Sufism. In the first couplet we read that love is an attribute of God – as stated in the Qur’an. In the second we see that love “takes humans to God.”

While the Qur’an shows that love is an attribute of God, for many adherents of the Sufi tradition love is God’s most important attribute because for the spiritual journey of the wayfarer, love provides the path that takes them to reunion with God. In Rumi’s “spiritual masterpiece,” the Masnavi, the poet seeks to show that “God is known primarily through love.” The significance given to love in this part of the Islamic tradition has allowed some to suggest simply that “God is Love.” However, it is important to note that love is not the only attribute of God:

…He is Mercy, Knowledge, Life, Power and Will. He possesses all these qualities; His Being is the same as their Being; but we may not say that God is Mercy and nothing else, or that He is Knowledge and nothing else… He possesses all His Attributes absolutely, yet in His Essence He is beyond them all.

More than a generation before Rumi the mystic Farid al-Din Attar (d.1220) wrote a variation of the shahada (testimony of faith) as la ilaha illa ishq – No God but Love. In his Divan Rumi shows that he did not believe God could be defined as such. In fact, this excerpt from the Divan could be commenting on the above phrase of Attar:

Others call Thee Love, but I call Thee the Sultan of Love – oh Thou who are beyond the concept of this or that, do not go without me!

Rumi’s poetry not only shows that God cannot be defined but He can only be described with symbol, metaphor or analogy, which eventually also proves to be inadequate:

All of these are symbols – I mean that the other
world keeps coming into this world.
Like cream hidden in the soul of milk, No place
keeps coming into this place.
Like intellect concealed in blood and skin, the
Traceless keeps entering into traces.
And from beyond the intellect, beautiful Love
comes dragging its skirts, a cup of wine in its hand.
And from beyond Love, that Indescribable One
who can only be called “That” keeps coming.

In this piece of sublime verse Rumi uses analogy to communicate a sense of God. We also see an explanation of the variance of love and intellect, but most importantly, embedded in the poetry, Rumi presents the difference between love as an attribute of God, and “the Indescribable One who can only be called ‘That'” which is God.

As we saw in one of the couplets quoted above, Rumi believed that love, “real or metaphorical, ultimately takes humans to God.” The journey to reunion with God was made by “constant purification and, in exchange, qualification with God’s attributes.” For the Sufi mystic, “the qualities of the Beloved enter in the place of the qualities of the lover.” This is a heightened sense of jihad, when jihad is thought of as “the personal struggle against one’s own shortcomings that is required of all Muslims so that they can perfect their submission.”

For the Sufi mystic, however, the demand of reunion with God was to “qualify yourself with the qualities of God,” which was achieved by constant mental struggle to exchange the base qualities of the mystic for the praiseworthy qualities by which God has described himself in the Qur’anic revelation. The Mevlevi Sufi, Sefik Can, suggests this is achieved when “The goal of the Sufi mystic is to understand and love The One who has created humankind.” The connection of love to reunion with God is explained when Sefik Can says “In the Sufi tradition, love is described as annihilation in the Beloved.” Again, the poetry of Rumi makes a vivid representation of this teaching:

Love came and it made me empty.
Love came and it filled me with the Beloved.
It became the blood in my body
It became my arms and my legs.
It became everything!
Now all I have is a name,
The rest belongs to the Beloved.

The verse describes the progressive, experiential knowledge of love. First came abandonment of the ego. Then, came submission whereby one no longer acts according to the ego, but in submission to the Beloved who now becomes “… his hearing with which he hears, his seeing with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes and his foot with which he walks…” as in the well-known hadith qudsi. The Sufi understanding of the annihilation of the self in the Beloved can be regarded as an expression of the ultimate understanding of tawhid – asserting God’s unity. Annemarie Schimmel suggests that “to declare that God is One is the goal of religious life for the Muslim in general and the Sufi in particular.” An elaboration of this idea leads to the assertion that only God has real existence and hence only God has the right to say “I,” for “God is the only true subject.”

It is the tawhid that underpins the expression of love in Sufi poetry because “the true lover sees everything as pertaining to his beloved.” This is a teaching that Rumi sought to convey in the Masnavi-ye Ma’navi, for he intended

… to coax out of his readers the misapprehension that the world is made up of a multitude of separate selves apart from God and into the knowledge that all reality subsists only in relation to God.

It is a state of mind whereby “the poets recognized God everywhere,” as Annemarie Schimmel said, citing the verse of the Qur’an that inspired this awareness: “Withersoever ye turn, there is the face of God” (Surah 2/109). Two couplets quoted by Schimmel use the above-mentioned symbolism of wine to begin their explanation of tawhid:

The glass is all and the wine is naught,
Or the glass is naught and the wine is all –
but the vocabulary of religion concludes the realization:
That all that is, is He indeed:
Soul and loved one and heart and creed.

Because “love is desire and need,” it is stated that God, at the level of His attributes, created the world because He desired (or “loved”) to be known. Furthermore, God’s love for the Prophet is evident in this saying, “But for thee I would not have made the celestial spheres.” Ultimately, God’s desire to be revealed through the prophets and the saints “was the motivating force in His creation of the universe,” and all the world’s forms, movements and activities result from that original love. On this Rumi wrote:

The creatures are set in motion by Love, Love by Eternity-without-beginning; the wind dances because of the spheres, the trees because of the wind.

When we use the metaphor of the spiritual journey, we know from Sufi poetry that love is the vehicle par excellence for the traveller.

Bibliography

• Can, Sefik. 2005. The Fundamentals of Rumi’s Thought: A Mevlevi Sufi Perspective. Translated by Cuneyt Eroglu and Zeki Saritoprak, New Jersey: The Light Inc.
• Chittick, William C. 1983. The Sufi Path of Love: The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi, Albany: State University of New York Press.
• Lumbard, J.E.B. 2007. “From Hubb to Ishq: The Development of Love in Early Sufism.” Journal of Islamic Studies, 18:3, Oxford: Oxford University Press.
• Murata, S. and Chittick, W.C. 1994. The Vision of Islam, London: I.B. TAURIS.
• Rumi. 1992. A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi, translated by Jonathon Star and Shahram Shiva, New York: Bantam Books.
• Rumi. 2006. Spiritual Verses: The First Book of the Masnavi-ye Ma’navi, translated by Alan Williams, London: Penguin,.
• Schimmel, A. 1975. Mystical Dimensions of Islam. University of North Carolina Press.
• Schimmel, A. 1982. As Through a Veil, Mystical Poetry in Islam. New York: Columbia University Press.
• von Donzel, E., Lewis, B., and Pellat, C. (eds). 1978. The Encyclopedia of Islam, New Edition, Vol. 4, Leidin, Netherlands: E.J. Brill.
• Yunus Emre, trans. Turgut Durduran. http://www.stwing.upenn.edu. Accessed 17/5/08.

“How long have you been lost?” I asked her. “For three nights” (Maryam 19:10) was her Qur’anic rejoinder. I offered her food. She replied with, “Observe the Fast until night sets in” (Baqarah 2:187). “Yes, but we are not in the month of Ramadan,” said I. “Whoever does a good work voluntarily, surely God is All-Responsive to thankfulness, All-Knowing” (Baqarah 2:158) was her response. “It is permissible to break fast on a journey,” I informed her. “Yet better it is for him who volunteers greater good, and that you should fast (when you are able to) is better for you, if you but knew (the worth of fasting)” (Baqarah 2:184) she responded.

I asked her why she did not converse in the way I conversed. “Not a word does he/she utter but there is a watcher by him/her, ever-present,” (Qaf 50:18) recited she. I put a question to her: “Where do you belong?” “Do not follow that of which you have no knowledge, and refrain from groundless assertions and conjectures. Surely the hearing, the sight, and the heart – each of these is subject to questioning about it” (Isra’ 17:35) was her Qur’anic response. “I sinned; please forgive me,” I pleaded. “No reproach this day shall be on you. May God forgive you; indeed, He is the Most Merciful of the merciful” (Yusuf 12:92) said she. I offered to let her ride on my camel so as to deliver her swiftly to her convoy. “Whatever good you do, surely God has full knowledge of it” (Baqarah 2:215) she thanked me. I brought my camel and as she was about to mount on the animal, she said, “Tell the believing men that they should restrain their gaze” (Nur 24:30). I cast my eyes down. Just as she was about to climb on the camel, the animal shied and moved forward, and her clothing was torn a little. “Whatever affliction befalls you, it is because of what your hands have earned,” (Shura 42:30) she murmured. “Be patient, let me hold the camel!” said I. Reciting the verse, “We made Solomon understand the case more clearly. We granted each of them sound, wise judgment and knowledge” (Anbiya 21:79) she said, implying that I was more successful at controlling the camel. She mounted the camel and recited the verses, “So that you sit secure on their backs, (and), then remember and reflect on the favor of your Lord when you settle securely on them, and say: All-Glorified is He Who has subjugated this to our use. We were never capable (of accomplishing this by ourselves). And surely, to our Lord we are indeed bound to return’” (Zukhruf 13–14). “Come on!” said I, so as to urge the camel on. “Be modest in your bearing, and subdue your voice. For certain, the most repugnant of voices is the braying of donkeys,” (Luqman 31:19) she warned me. While walking, I began to recite poetry. “Recite from the Qur’an what is easy for you!” (Muzzammil 73:20) was her advice. “But reciting poetry is not forbidden in Islam!” I protested. “He grants the Wisdom to whomever He wills, and whoever is granted the Wisdom has indeed been granted much good. Yet none except people of discernment reflect and are mindful” (Baqarah; 269) was her reply.

We travelled for a long while; later I asked her whether she was married. “O you who believe! Do not ask about things which, if made manifest to you, would give you trouble” (Maidah 5:101) she snapped back. Soon, we caught up with her convoy, and I asked her, “Do you know anybody in the caravan?” “Wealth and children are an adornment of the present, worldly life!” (Kahf 18:46) said she, and I realized that she had children. I asked her their names. “God accepted Ibrahim as a friend; spoke to Musa; O Yahya! Hold fast to the Book!” (Nisa 4:125, 164; Maryam 19:12) was the answer. I called towards the caravan, “O Ibrahim, O Musa, O Yahya!” Three saintly-faced youths quickly appeared. She gave them money, reciting the verse, “Send one of you to the city with this coin of yours: let him see what food is most pure there (and so lawful), and bring a supply from it. But let him behave with utmost care and guarded courtesy,” (Kahf 18:19). When her children brought the food, she recited the verse, “Eat and drink to your hearts’ content for all that you sent ahead in advance in days past” (Haqqah 69:24).

I told her children that if they would not tell me the reason why their mother talked in that way, I would not touch even the smallest part of the food. ‘Our mother,’ they said, ‘for fear that she might blurt out some foul words that would call down God’s wrath, has been speaking through the Holy Qur’an for the last forty years.’”

Abdullah bin Mubarak (d. 797 AH) was an important figure from the second generation after the Companions of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him.

Suat Erguvan is the Academic Coordinator of the Rumi Forum, Islamabad.

Current trends in language studies

Of the various functions of language one is its meaning making, knowledge producing activity. Various theories of language and discourses produce different kinds of knowledge, meaning, reality and truth-claims. Over the last four decades much academic discussion dealing with language has started out with its value-laden entwinement with ideology. Language’s ambiguous nature, culture-specific character, indeterminacy of meaning and the ways in which it shapes and controls our perceptions of the world, have been studied in the social and political context. Consequently, there has been proliferation of such diverse disciplines as psycholinguistics, socio-linguistics, and post-colonial studies. Research in language use has tended to focus on its power to shape our perceptions of the world within hierarchical structures of power which are both formulated and upheld by language. Language has been studied as social capital, an instrument for establishing cultural hegemony, a form of manipulation and conquest, a discourse of power embedded in ideology in the context of education, interpersonal and mass communication, business, propaganda, advertisements, natural sciences and translation studies.

The truth-claim of the designative tradition in the philosophy of language, based as it is on nominalism and naturalism, limits meaning to word-object relation only, and reduces reality to mere physical phenomena that can be quantitatively measured and explained. This exclusive, separatist, Cartesian focus on mirroring objective reality ends in scientific materialism and determinism, which leaves no room for the noblest reaches of spiritual life. On the other hand, if the twin emphasis on how discourse is both constituted by and constitutes the socio-cultural world and the notion that discourse is invested in and contributes to the (re)production of power relations in society, ends in cultural materialism, likewise the poststructuralist marginalizing of external reality, exaggerated one-sided emphasis on hermetically closed system of textuality, regression and deference of meaning results in nihilism.

Breaking free from linguistic reductionism

If it is to have a future, the philosophy of language has to break free from cultural narcissism, solipsism, and linguistic reductionism. It has to make a connection between the fullness of life and language. The idea of reality needs to be extended to make room for the complexity of full human experience-the Transcendental and the temporal and spatial, the Eternal and the historical, the spiritual and the physical, the sacred and the secular. Regrettably research in language studies has not been carried over into the domain of mystical discourse. The absence of an adequate study of the need, nature, function, effect and context of language in leaping up to Transcendence, neglect of the study of the relationship between language and faith in mystical discourse in various theories of meaning and reality is symptomatic of a deep problem in our current views of our cognition of reality. The difficulty is not a matter of mere oversight. The problem is far more distressing, for it concerns our entire orientation towards these issues, which is based on a set of presuppositions that deny God, spirituality, mysticism, and sacredness a central role in the constitution of reality. The paradigms of positivism and empiricism are still regarded as organizing forms which exclude transcendence and subjective mystical experience as integral parts of the fullness of life.

Despite the fact that since the 1970s the study of mysticism has completely transformed, it has yet to draw the attention of linguists, literary critics and philosophers of language. Far from being regarded as sentimentalism and deviation from religion or abnormal behavior it has come to be recognized as an account of sublime spiritual experience. The labors of religions psychologists, like the work of William James (1982) disentangled it from psycho-physical accidents and no responsible student now identifies mysticism with confusion of thought. The philosophical and theological landscape with its increasing emphasis on Transcendence, respect for the idea of the sacred, growing recognition of the distinctness, independence and need of the spiritual order and a revival of the creaturely sense, strongly contrast with the temper of the nineteenth-century thought. The metaphysical claims of mystics are now recognized as truth-claims. The warm welcome given to Rudolf Otto’s The Idea of the Holy (1926) has been followed by renewed interest in the sacred. Yet in spite of the adjustments required by such a shift in philosophical outlook, language theorists have yet to enrich their insights by gleaning from the field of mysticism. Wittgenstein’s catalogue of “language games” includes prayer but it does not move beyond formal prayer to private prayer, munajat, “a prayer of intimate conversation between God and man during which words of love and affection are exchanged and consolation is found for the afflicted heart.” The linguist’s inquiry does not address issues of the meaningfulness, force and effect of language constructs in the mystical discourse and context. This constitutes a very large gap in scholarship on language.

The profundity of thought, sublimity of emotion and esthetic beauty of the works of Muslim mystics has gained international attention and respect by virtue of their translation into different languages and the commentaries on them-Massignon’s French volume on Mansur al-Hallaj (1922), Chittick (2000), Nicholson (1964, 1970, 1989), Arberry (1956, 1979) and Schimmel’s works (1975, 2003) in English on Muslim mystics in general and in particular on Al-Hujwiri and Maulana Rumi, Margaret Smith on Muhasibi (1935), and Rabia (1994), Schimmel’s German volume on the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) (1981). Maulana Rumi has emerged as the most widely read poet in the United States because of the accessibility of translations of his work into English.

Rationale

Why Sufi poetry? The devastation caused by the two world wars, for the first time shook the Western world into realizing a two-fold need .The first was of “a deeper understanding and appreciation of other peoples and their civilizations, especially their moral and spiritual achievements.” The second need arose from the strong call for “a new vision of the Universe, a clearer insight into the fundamentals of ethics and religion.” What should be the criteria for living a decent life? Can the nations be brought together? Is there a God of love or simply a blind, mechanical, impersonal force behind the chance collocation of atoms? What is the nature of the relationship between man and God? Can man reach out to Him or does He remain inaccessible? This quest led men and women to dig out what the mystics, the greatest minds of East and West, who by common consent are accepted as the people of God, have thought and said about the truth of God.

This was, according to Arberry, one of the main objectives behind a series of translations of Sufi (Islamic mystical) literature and commentaries on them, showing the background against which this kind of literature arose and developed. The translator of Sufi literature emerged in the role of the guide who shows the way to treasures. Arberry (1956) wrote, “Mankind is hungry, but the feast is there, though it is locked up and hidden away.” The aim of translations was to put that feast within reach, so that, like “the Heroes of Homer, we may stretch out our hands to the good cheer laid before us.”

Unfortunately this aim has not yet been realized. Since 9/11 nations have drifted even further away from each other. Misunderstanding, misrepresenting and misrepresented, seething with the consuming passion of mistrust and hatred, the world today is once again standing on the brink of disaster. We behave in this wasteland like hollow men who eschew eye contact with each other, who can connect nothing with nothing, and talk only about the clash of civilizations. We need to open our eyes to the beauty of the emotion of love shared by all the religions and traditions of mysticism. No doubt, the great religions differ in fundamentals, but the essence is the same, and that is compassion and it is that which brings the great religions together on a strong spiritual footing.

The transformative spirit and power of Sufi poetry was later voiced once more by a Western scholar, Karen Armstrong, who viewed her access to the Holy Qur’an and Sufi literature through translations as a “very liberating experience.” She discovered expansion, pluralism and compassion in Islam. Since then it has been her jihad, as she puts it, to enlighten her people in the West about the true spirit of Islam and dispel misunderstandings, prejudices, and negative stereotyping of Muslims.

Another motive which should precipitate translation of Sufi poetry is the need to fill the gap in scholarship on language. Language has a complex character. It can perform diverse and contradictory functions. Like the two-faced Roman God Janus, language has an ambivalent character; it can equally disclose and hide, construct and destroy, inspire and demoralize, liberate and imprison, clarify and distort, heal and hurt. Sufi literature brings forth the paradox of the inadequacy of words to express and convey the mystical experience and insight, and on the other hand the meaning, power and need of words. Sufis always say that their experience is ineffable, yet they couch their feelings and experiences in words and express them with great conviction, force and eloquence .If the spiritual experience and the vision are unutterable and beyond expression and words are inherently incapable of expressing something which is beyond the comprehension of intellect (because words are the tools of intellect to conceptualize) then these questions are immediately raised:

1. What is the nature of language in Sufi poetry?
2. What does a Sufi describe?
3. How do the words function?
4. What is the purpose of this functioning?

First, Sufi poetry is highly metaphorical in nature. The illogical logic in Sufi poetry addresses the “ontological” status of metaphor in relation to how things actually are: the unreality of the phenomenal world and the way it should be “seen as something else.”

Second, Sufi literature reveals and describes the most profound spiritual truths disclosing the esoteric aspect of Islam, as the very titles of many Sufi treatises demonstrate. Kashf-Al-Mahjub, the oldest Persian treatise of tasawwuf (Sufism), written by Ali Bin Uthman Al-Hujwiri, means the “Unveiling of the Veiled,” and in his own words it is “an explanation of mystical sayings, and an uplifting of the veil of mortality.” Long before Derrida used the word “translator” for a writer, Sufi writers saw themselves in the role of translators, who transfer, reconstitute and interpret divine truths from the transcendental domain to the context of this physical world.

This makes us move on to the function that language performs in Sufi literature. Sufi poetry displays the close relation between language, belief, understanding and truth. Sufi poetry by its very nature engages us in a dialogue with the Transcendental. Not only does it initiate the move to relate, it then becomes the means of consolidating and strengthening the bond, and expanding understanding of the nature of relationship.

Here language becomes a way of showing the way to harmony and peace that passes understanding. Words do not strain, slip and crack here. They are meaningful, not illusory nor simulacra. They create meaning: meaning is not endless regression here. Language in Sufi poetry is not “a prison house” outside which no reality lives. Functioning as a therapy, Sufi poetry sprouts hope and shows possibilities of breaking through impasse, becoming a source of strength and inspiration. It reanimates and “brings dead hearts to life.”

Sufi poetry has constitutive value; it constitutes who we are, how we should think and live. It sets the parameters of our life by pressing upon us the ideal of love and compassion. Making us see beyond the mere referential value of word-object relationship, it offers a dynamic and creative view of language.

Thus, Sufi poetry develops an optimistic relationship between humankind and language. Just as mystical experience is liberating, likewise language is seen as a liberating force, expanding and promoting human well being, rather than being constrictive as Derrida, the philosopher of language, claims it to be.

Integrating the sacred with the secular

Research in the translation of Sufi literature becomes a way of reintegrating “the sacred with the secular” in today’s disenchanted world. The way language in Sufi literature creates and extends meaning and reality is nowadays ignored because of the Post-structuralist emphasis on culture, ideology and indeterminacy of meaning in language. But the significance of language as a “meaning-making” activity, a way of knowing and understanding Transcendence, a means of creating a bridge across diverse religions and cultures validates such comparative studies. Truth may be at stake. A researcher and a scholar like the translators, critics, historians, journalists and professors of literature can break or make a writer on his/her own terms. Research acquires the power of Plato’s pharmakon, both “poison” and “remedy.” The power invested in the researcher to change texts and so change the world should be increasingly recognized.

The researcher may intervene in the interpretation of text for different reasons and use research to serve various functions. If an interpretation is yoked to a political or national agenda it may manipulate language to construct meaning not intended by the original text. In this way research ceases to be a means of knowing the truth. It becomes manipulation, subsuming the original meaning into its own hegemonizing voice. In generating erroneous perceptions of a work and the doctrine it is embedded in biased or erroneous interpretation assists in promoting negative stereotypes. Inauthentic and distorted versions of Sufi literature were instrumental in re-presenting Islamic mysticism as a form of Bacchanalian ecstasy. Research can thus do more harm than good by repressing, distorting or containing the original meaning.

In its positive aspect, by being faithful to the original meaning of the text, research can promote good will through intercultural dialogue, expand understanding about other religions and literatures, and promote peaceful coexistence. The aim should be to deepen understanding and expand awareness about the complexity of the web of language use in making Sufi poetry.

Aalia Sohail Khan is an associate professor of English in the National University of Modern Languages, Islamabad.

References

• Arberry A.J. Muslim Saints and Mystics. Trans. Tadhkirat-al-Auliya by Farid al-Din Attar. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1966.
• Medina, Jose. Language: Key Concept in Philosophy. London: MPG Books Limited. 2000.
• Schimmel, Annemarie. As Through a Veil: Mystical Poetry in Islam. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985.
• Underhill, Evelyn, Mysticism: A study in the nature and development of Man’s spiritual consciousness. New York: Meridian Books, 1960.

Galib’s master work Hüsn ü Ask (“Beauty and Love”) is viewed as one of the most distinguished works of Turkish Literature. It is known for its perfect presentations of symbols and characters with which he tells the story of a dervish who strives to attain a state of perfection after passing difficult tests and obstacles.

Sheikh Galib, who was also known as Galib Dede, is considered to be the last of the great classical Ottoman poets. Born in Istanbul in 1757, when the Ottoman Empire was at its height, he is one of the most important figures in the Sufi tradition. His father was a government official with some connection to the Mevlevi Sufi order, the order of “whirling dervishes” founded by Rumi. He compiled his first divan (book of poetry) at twenty-four years of age, and at twenty-six he finished his master work Hüsn ü Ask (“Beauty and Love”) in less than six months. Hüsn ü Ask is a divan of his poetry and a poetic allegory which is seen as one of the best books of classical Ottoman poetry. Galib went to Rumi’s town of Konya to finish his period of seclusion (çile)¹ so that he would become a sheikh of the Mevlevi order, but he returned to Istanbul at his father’s insistence. Seclusion is an important stage in the Sufi path (tasawwuf), during which a dervish purifies his body from human desires and matures his soul spiritually. Galib completed his seclusion and spiritual education in the Galata house of the Mevlevis in Istanbul in three years, and became a Dede (Master) of the house. He was appointed as Sheikh of the Galata house of the Mevlevis during the time of Sultan Selim III and became a very close friend of the Sultan.

At first, Galib attempted to combine a government career with the interior life of a Sufi, but he eventually turned his focus wholeheartedly to the spiritual life. By this time, he was already famous for his poetry, which was admired even by Sultan Selim III, who was a patron of poets and the sultan at that time. Sheikh Galib deeply affected the sultan spiritually, trained many students and passed away at the age of forty-three in 1799. His tomb is in a place called Hamusan (“Place of silence”) in the Galata house of the Mevlevis in Istanbul.²

The spiritual adventure of a soul: Hüsn ü Ask

Classical Turkish poetry is full of images and symbols which scholars discuss in terms of their function in symbolic meaning, whereas they agree on their lexical meaning. The range of symbols, which are often repeated, has been widened and enriched for centuries. They enrich the content of the poetry by making the words denser and wider in terms of meaning, and they are also seen as an indicator of superiority, originality and privilege while evaluating the poets’ literary skills. The poet aims to say much in few words, a simple but powerful approach that makes the poetry mysterious and something in which readers find their own images and thoughts.³

Galib’s poetry was at a peak in terms of richness of imagination and this has made him a role model for many later poets who emulate his poetic style. His master work Hüsn ü Ask (“Beauty and Love”) is viewed as one of the most distinguished works of Turkish literature. It is known for its perfect presentations of symbols and characters with which he tells the story of a dervish who strives to attain a state of perfection after passing difficult tests and obstacles. Hüsn ü Ask is a quest by a man for his interior life. The man is searching for himself in this quest, and while reflecting his interior life, it also shows the soul of the man. Sheikh Galib says that he took the idea from Rumi’s Mesnevi, claiming that Mesnevi is something that belongs to all humanity, not just Rumi. Hüsn (Beauty) and Ask (Love), who are the main characters of the story, are two people born on the same day in a tribe in the desert. According to the story, Hüsn is very beautiful, she shines like the moon, and she represents all beauty. Ask is very brave, honest, and handsome, and he represents all the love and effort that is directed toward beauty. It is as if Hüsn and Ask are tailored for each other, but Ask has many tests and obstacles to pass in order to prove his capacity to deserve Hüsn.⁴

The obstacles and tests represent the suffering (çile) of the dervish, or our deeds in life that will lead us to the afterlife. Hüsn represents God, all that is most beautiful and most gracious and which represents all beauty in life and the hereafter. Ask stands for the man who desires beauty, who above all seeks it in his soul and in his consciousness. This is true because God created humans for Himself, so that humans always seek eternity and eternal love, whether knowingly or unknowingly. According to Sufism (tasawwuf), a person cannot be satisfied in his or her soul until he or she finds the reason behind his or her creation; thus people always seek this ultimate reason. The Qur’an also expresses this as

Be aware that it is in the remembrance of God, and whole-hearted devotion to God, that hearts find rest and contentment. (Rad 13:28)⁵

During the journey, Hüsn has to face many different tests and is required to pass all of them fully in the given time. Galib describes this: “It is not easy to get Hüsn, you have to pay a great deal. You have to find the required chemical first. This chemical is only found in the realm of the heart and, it is something that transforms anything into gold. You will find dragons with a thousand heads in this realm of the heart. If you pass the dragons, your way will lead you to the sea of fire. On the shore of the sea of fire, you will see a ship made of wax. You have to pass over the sea of fire with that ship made of wax. If you pass over the sea, a witch of many evils will be waiting for you on the other side. Your way will lead you to a desert in which lions, giants and many wild animals are waiting for you. Creatures that sound like thunderstorms will jump on you. There will always be fire in this desert. If you pass through the desert, you can arrive in the homeland of the heart. Find the chemical over there and come back by the same way. What you call life is too short, like the blink of an eye. If you want to get Hüsn, you have to be very quick.”⁶

The obstacles mostly represent the devil and the carnal self (nafs) that are the two main enemies of humans, according to the Islamic faith. If one fails one of the tests, one cannot reach or will be delayed in reaching Hüsn. Hüsn has a teacher named Gayret (Endeavor), and he will be with Hüsn during this adventure. Sheikh Galib says he came to the world to write Hüsn ü Ask and ends his story by giving some advice. Humans, he says, cannot reach anything beautiful without binding it with love and passion. Sometimes, you will face huge problems, and you will feel like you are walking in a desert of fire, and sometimes you will fall into wells of sorrow, but you will be rescued from these wells by grabbing the rope that represents the Qur’an and faith in God (Al Imran 3:103). We should always have endeavor and hope. We might have obstacles, traps and tests in front of us and sometimes we might fail. But we should never give up and we should continue our journey with passion and hope. The chemical that converts anything to gold is affection; once you find it you will see everything differently.

A life devoted to the faith

Since according to tasawwuf, true love is love for the sake of God, Who is the source of all beauty and to Whom is due all worship and love, Sheikh Galib’s works display rich examples and meanings that reflect his love of God. The phrases are usually not directed to the creator directly, but the true meaning is hidden in the symbols. For example, he writes,

Love is a lamp of God, I am its moth;
love is a shackle, my heart is its crazy captive.
…
The Beloved’s candle has such a wonderful light,
its light does not fit into the lamp glass of Heaven.

According to the poet, “having God’s everlasting pleasure for a person is an everlasting treasure that is more valuable than anything else.” It is this understanding which forms the basis for a dervish’s deeds, and it is what makes a dervish’s life understandable. The dervish only wants God’s pleasure and love, and he conducts himself in such a way as to earn it. It is not important for him to be rich, powerful, or handsome, or so on, because these are not the tools that take him to divine love.

Sheikh Galib’s poem in praise of the Prophet is accepted as one of the best ever written and shows his devotion and dedication to him. It was indeed a tradition for the poets of classical Ottoman literature to write poems called “naat” dedicated to the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him. In his poem, Galib begins by describing the Prophet’s features and by praising his personality, and at the end asks for his intercession for the afterlife.

O Master, you are the sultan of all prophets, king of all the honored.
O Master, you are the eternal cure for the desperate and helpless.
O Master, you are the most valuable person in the abode of God.
Master, you are the most praised and most beloved.
O Master , you are given as a mercy to us by God.⁷

In this noble eulogy of the Prophet, there are also some descriptions of the Prophet’s great friends, the places whose names the Prophet often mentioned and the Day of Judgment, on which everybody will seek help and mercy. The poet humbly asks for the Prophet’s help, not just for himself but everybody who has faith. This reflects the hope that as much as you remember, praise Prophet Muhammad and send greetings to him, the more likely he will pray for God’s mercy upon you on the Day of Judgment.

Conclusion

Tasawwuf and its effects constitute very important elements of Classical Ottoman Poetry. Drawing on the rich vocabulary and symbolism tasawwuf enables poets to convey a great many additional layers of meaning, as well as the visible lexical meanings in the lines they compose. Sheikh Galib claims that a human being is born with a given love that is from past eternity and that is divine love. Love is something that already exists in the soul and heart; it does not merely appear at a late phase. Therefore, love is not an ending but it is a beginning. Galib does not follow a path where the story goes from love of the human to divine love; in fact, he talks directly about divine love. If a person frees himself or herself from the shackles and chains of human love and finds divine love, he or she will be able to pass over the sea of fire in a ship made of wax, able to defeat giants, witches, demons and exceed all his or her limitations.

Ahmet D. Bahadir is a post-doctoral researcher with a special interest in Ottoman literature.

Notes

1. Denoting abandonment of all worldly pleasures and delights, çile is used to express an initiate’s spending at least forty days in strict austerity and self-discipline in the name of spiritual training. During this period initiates keep to the absolute bare minimum in meeting such bodily needs as eating, drinking, sleeping, and speaking, and spend most of their time in worshiping, mentioning God, thinking and self-supervision. They spend the period of çile either in a silent corner of a dervish lodge or in a quiet room in their homes.
2. Ayvazoglu, B., Kugunun Son Sarkisi, Kapi Press, Istanbul: 2006.
3. Capan, P., “On Seyh Galib’s Image of Fire,” University of Muðla, Faculty of Arts and Sciences, Department of Turkish Language and Literature, Muðla: 2005.
4. Holbrook, V. R., Beauty and Love (“Hüsn ü Ask”), Mla Texts and Translations, 2006.
5. Unal, Ali, The Qur’an: An Annotated Interpretation in Modern English, The Light, Inc, NJ: 2008, p. 505.
6. Holbrook, 2006.
7. Pala, I., Divan of Sheikh Galib, Kapi Press, Istanbul: 2005.

The foreword, written by M. Fethullah Gulen, provides a good summary of the main ideas in the book. Both the foreword and the book try to make it clear that while many enjoy the poetry of Rumi, in many cases, the reader does not pay much attention to the source of his poetry, the Qur’an and the teachings of the Prophet of Islam. This is unfortunate and misleading. This book establishes the strong connection between Rumi’s poetry and Rumi’s utmost respect and love for the Qur’an and Prophet Muhammad by presenting samples of his poetry. In fact, Rumi says, “I am the soil under the feet of Muhammad.”

The book contains numerous anecdotes, some with references, which shed light on aspects of Rumi’s colorful personality. In the narration of his life, the book provides some interesting details. It is suggested in the book that the death of Shams, in whose persona Rumi first found the light of the Beloved, might have had something to do with the fact that Rumi did not have a close relationship with his eldest son. Another important person in Rumi’s life was his father, Baha al-Din Valad. Rumi’s father was a prominent Islamic scholar, while his son, Rumi, was anything but a scholar. As I read the book I came to an understanding that after the death of his father, Rumi started searching for a path for himself. But the path he chose for himself was not the path of his father. In fact, Rumi had distaste for the sort of encyclopedic knowledge of God that his father had pursued. Rumi longed for an ever-present and imminent experience of God. “The knowledge of the heart is not learnt from books” is how the author expresses it, while Rumi states, “Love shies away from the light of reason.”

Mr. Can, after presenting Rumi’s biography with many colorful and insightful anecdotes, continues with his presentation of Rumi’s views on some important subjects in the second half of the book, such as unity and union with God, love, salvation, beauty, women, poetry, free will, and reincarnation. While making his case, the author draws on numerous examples from Rumi’s poetry. The author’s aim, as he himself confesses, is not to make an objective criticism of Rumi’s views. This is why some of his comments may at times seem to be excessive. Contrary to being a weak point, I think the author’s unquestioned devotion to Rumi makes the book warm, bringing Rumi ever closer to the reader.

Another very valuable contribution of the book is in the cross-references between Plato and Rumi, and Iqbal and Rumi. The author’s wide background is a tremendous help to the reader in finding the common thread and the differences between Rumi and the philosophers of the West and the East. “Rumi: A Mevlevi Sufi Perspective” is not a book that is exclusively concerned with Rumi’s life and views; it actually can also be seen to be a book on Sufism from Rumi’s perspective as well.

Sefik Can’s book, “Rumi: A Mevlevi Perspective” fills a significant gap in the literature on Rumi. The book does an excellent job of collecting a specific composition of roses from the rose garden of Rumi. After reading the book, the reader wishes to learn Persian in order to listen to Rumi and to be able to collect their own samples from that beautiful garden. This book is a must for anyone who desires to have a thorough, heartfelt introduction to the beloved Rumi.

Rumi, as he is most commonly known in the West, or “Mevlana” in the East, is the spiritual guide for seekers of the truth, even after seven centuries; in fact his work is more illuminating now as he is better known by modern society.

Is he truly understood, though; do his admirers really know enough about him? Is it only the phrases “intoxication” or “burning with love,” used metaphorically by Rumi, that are extracted from his poetry, or is his exceptional and mysterious character understood by those who read him? Whatever the answer, Rumi’s message is for everyone; it reaches down through the centuries.

We have dedicated the current issue to Rumi, whom, we think, is not well enough known or appreciated, either in the West or in the East. Today, whirling dervishes perform the sema, the ceremony of the Mevlevi order, in different states and countries, creating a marvelous spiritual atmosphere. For some Rumi is a spiritual guru and the founder of this order. For others he is a prolific poet addressing their innermost feelings. So, who was Rumi? Who is Rumi? How does his message still enlighten minds, and how do hearts find comfort through his words? Where did he acquire this inspiration?

Rumi’s understanding of love for God and all creation is represented today by many individuals. Toward a Global Civilization of Love and Tolerance is the most recent book by one of those representatives, M. Fethullah Gulen, a leading Islamic scholar and spiritual guide. In our book review section, the foreword written for this book by Thomas Michel, the interfaith dialogue secretary for the Vatican, describes the mission of the book through his encounters with the admirers of Gulen. The book is a comprehensive chronicle that enables us to attain a first-hand perception about Gulen and his outstanding thoughts on issues like love and mercy, Sufism, jihad, terrorism, human rights, and education.

Rumi, Gulen, and many others take the divine revelation and the example of the prophets as the basis of their thoughts. The twentieth century, however, championed the human mind over everything else and simply overlooked the importance of the revelation. Does the revelation exclude the human mind, or is it a dogmatic web of religious teachings and practices? Do the solutions that the human mind has offered solve all our problems and make us happier? This extremely important topic is also examined in this month’s issue.

As modern day people, the more we tend to work the more we internalize. We are becoming lonelier while we grow much less integrated with all the others around us. The world has now become smaller; it is an “online” world. Time and distances have become shorter. We seem to be together, yet somehow we are alone and separated. Under these circumstances, “the other” constitutes the greatest danger for us all; not only individuals, but also nations, and even continents become divided into “us” and “the other.” Human beings are afraid of what they do not know. Isn’t it time to start getting to know one other better? Now is the time to do this; we have every means God has given us through technology. This is how we will eliminate enmity and hatred in the world. In the article “The Question of Lifestyle in Interfaith Relationships” the first steps in this direction have been examined; we hope that the progress made in this area will continue.