Muslim Saints and Mystics
Episodes from the
Tadhkirat al-Auliya’
(Memorial of the Saints)
by Farid al-Din Attar
Translated by A. J. Arberry
Contents
Farid al-Din Attar, author of the book here presented in an
abridged translation, is to be accounted amongst the greatest poets of Persia;
his dimensions as a literary genius increase with the further investigation of
his writings, which are still far from completely explored, though welcome
progress has been made of late in their publication. The existence of a number
of remarkable studies of Attar, listed in the Bibliography below, absolves the
present writer from the necessity of going into lengthy detail about the keenly
disputed details of his life and works. Here it will suffice to state that he
appears to have died between a.d. 1220 and 1230 at an advanced age, possibly at the hands of the
Mongol invaders of Persia; the traditional account that he was born in 1119 and
murdered precisely in 1230 is now generally rejected. Of the very numerous
epics and idylls ascribed to Attar perhaps nine may be recognized as authentic
Of these the most famous is the Manteq altair, that subtle and charming
allegory of the soul’s progress towards God, familiar, (though still not
familiar enough) to English readers through
Edward FitzGerald’s summary BirdParliament.
The origins of Sufism
Sufism
is the name given to the mystical movement within Islam; a Sufi is a Muslim
who dedicates himself to the quest after mystical union (or, better said,
reunion) with his Creator The name is Arabic in origin, being derived from the
word suf meaning “wool”; the Sufis were distinguishable from their
fellows by wearing a habit of coarse woollen cloth, in time when silks and
brocades had become the fashion of the wealthy and mundane-minded, symbolic of
their renunciation of worldly values and their abhorrence for physical
comforts.
Mystical awareness was
certainly present in the Prophet Mohammad’s attitude to Allah, and “mystical”
is an entirely appropriate adjective to describe his many experiences of
supernatural Presence making contact through him with a message to mankind. The
Koran, the book of Allah’s revelations to Mohammad, contains numerous passages
of a mystical character which the Sufis seized upon eagerly to buttress their
own claims to personal trafficking with God.
And when My servants question thee
concerning Me—I am near to answer the call of the caller, when he calls to Me;
so let them respond to Me, and let them believe in Me: haply so they will go
aright.
Sura 2: I82
We indeed created man; and We know
what his soul whispers within him, and We are nearer to him than the jugular
vein.
Sura 50: 5I
All that dwells upon the earth is perishing,
yet still
abides the Face of thy Lord, majestic,
splendid.
Sura 55: 26
One pregnant context
was taken to refer to a pre-eternal covenant between God and man, the
re-enactment of which became the earnest aspiration of the enthusiastic Sufi.
And when thy Lord took from the
Children of Adam,
from their loins, their seed, and made
them testify
touching themselves, “Am I not your Lord?” They said, “Yes, we
testify.” Sura 7:
171
The
ascetic outlook and practice, an indispensable preparation to mystical
communion, characterized the life not only of Mohammad himself but of many of
his earliest followers. Even when the rapid spread of Islam and the astonishing
military conquests of neighbouring ancient kingdoms brought undreamed-of
riches to the public exchequer, not a few of the leading men in the new
commonwealth withstood all temptation to abandon the austere life of the
desert, and their example was admired and emulated by multitudes of humbler
rank. Nevertheless with the passage of time, and as Islam became increasingly
secularized consequent upon further victories and rapidly augmenting
complications of statecraft, the original ascetic impulse tended to be
overwhelmed in the flood of worldly preoccupation.
Towards the end of the
eighth century a.d. pious Muslims who
remained faithful, through all trials and temptations, to the high ideals of
the fathers began to form themselves into little groups for mutual
encouragement and the pursuit of common aims; these men and women (for there
were women amongst them of a like mind), opting out of the race for worldly
advancement, took to wearing wool to proclaim their otherworldliness and were
therefore nicknamed Sufis. These circles of devotees, and many isolated
anchorites besides, appeared simultaneously in various parts of the Muslim
empire; anecdotes from their lives and conversations, such as are told in the
following pages, constitute the hagiography of Islam. A strong tradition connects
the growth of this movement with the Prophet through his cousin and son-in-law
Ali ibn Abi Taleb, the fourth caliph whose abdication led to the greatest
schism in the history of the faith, the separation between Sunni and Shiite.
According to this version, the Prophet invested Ali with a cloak or kherqa
on initiating him into the esoteric mysteries, imparting to him therewith the
heavenly wisdom which transcends all formal learning. In his turn Ali invested
his own initiates, and through them the selselas or chains of
affiliation passed on the inner lore of mystical truth to succeeding
generations. Another prominent figure in some versions of early Sufism is the
Persian convert Salman, who is said to have taken part in the great siege of
Medina. If any credence can be attached to this legend, Salman would certainly
be the first Persian Muslim to become a Sufi; he was the forerunner of a great
multitude of Persian Sufis.
Sufism and Persia
The
cities of Basra, Kufa, Damascus, Cairo, Baghdad feature, along with the desert
wastes of Arabia, Sinai, and Mesopotamia, as centres where the Sufi movement
took root and flourished. At the same time a “school” of mysticism of
extraordinary vitality and influence came into being in the distant province of
Khorasan, the bridgehead between the Middle East and the Far East. The earliest
semi-historical figure in this gallery of Persian saints is Ebrahim ibn Adham,
“Prince of Balkh, whose conversion to the mystical life has been not inaptly
compared with the legend of Gautama Buddha. It may be noted in this connection
that in pre-Muslim times Balkh was the centre of a large Buddhist community,
and the ruins of the massive Buddhist monastery called Naubahar were still
pointed out centuries after the coming of Islam. Ebrahim travelled from Balkh
to Syria in quest of “honest toil” and is said to have died fighting at sea
against Byzantium in about 780; he had made ‘‘ personal contact with many
Sufis of Syria and Iraq.
However spectacular the
example of Ebrahim ibn Adham may have been, his influence upon the history of
Sufism was soon overshadowed by the emergence in Khorasan of a mystical genius
of the first order, Abu Yazid of Bestam, who died about 875. His recorded acts
and sayings (“Glory be to Me!” he ejaculated memorably in the fervour of
mystical ecstasy) reveal him as a man of profound spirituality, who through
long austerity and meditation reached a state of compelling awareness of the
merging of his human individuality into the Individuality of God; a long and
graphic description of his “flight of the alone to the Alone”, a psychical
journey performed in emulation of the Ascension of Mohammad, will be found in
due place in this book. To him is attributed the introduction of
“intoxication” into Sufi doctrine, and in this respect he is contrasted with
the “sober” school of Baghdad, headed by the great al-Jonaid (d. 9IO). The
latter, who studied and commented on Abu Yazid’s ecstatic sayings, reached
indeed the same conclusions regarding the supreme mystical experience, the
passing away of the temporal ego into the Eternal Ego; but he expressed the
matter much more cautiously, supporting his argument by adroit “Neo-Platonic”
interpretation of certain key quotations from the Koran and the sayings of the
Prophet.
The early years of the
tenth century witnessed the climax of a sharp orthodox Muslim reaction against
the individualistic transcendentalism of the Sufis (some of whom deliberately
flouted the proprieties to prove their contempt for human judgments), when the
Persian-born al-Hallaj, who declared himself to be the Truth, was executed for
blasphemy in Baghdad in 922. Thereafter the majority of vocal Sufis laboured to
effect a reconciliation with traditionalism and accepted theology; and Persians
played a notable part in this irenic endeavour. Textbooks aiming to prove the
essential conformity of Sufi claims within the framework of strict Islamic
doctrine were compiled by al-Sarraj of Tus (d. 988), Abu Bakr of Kalabadh (d. c.
995), and, most famous of all, al-Qoshairi of Nishapur (d. 1072). To Nishapur
(whose most famous son to the world at large was of course Omar Khayyam)
belonged also al-Solami (d. 1021), author of the oldest surviving collection
of Sufi biographies; whilst Esfahan produced Abu No’aim (d. 1038) whose
encyclopaedic Ornament of the Saints is our chief sourcebook on Muslim
hagiology.
These men all wrote in
Arabic, the learned and prestige language of Islam. Meanwhile the political
renaissance of Persia under the virtually independent tenth-century dynasties
of Saffarids and Samanids led to a revival of the Persian language, transformed
as dramatically out of the old Pahlavi as English out of Anglo-Saxon, both phenomena
the results of foreign conquest; and the eleventh century produced the first
Sufi compositions in that tongue. On the formal side, we have in the Kashf
al-mahjub of Hojwiri the earliest Persian textbook of Sufi doctrine, in its
own way fully the equal of al-Qoshairi’s celebrated Resala. Then
al-Ansari of Herat, an eminent Hanbali lawyer (d. 1088) who wrote notable works
in Arabic including the classic Stages of the Mystic Travellers, chose
Persian, and a remarkably beautiful Persian at that, as the medium of his
mystical meditations and prayers (Monajat); he also produced in Herati
Persian an enhanced edition of al-Solami’s Classes of the Sufis. The
following extract from the Monajat, made into rhyming and rhythmical
prose in imitation of the original, shows how closely Ansari adhered to the
thought and expression of the earlier Sufis.
O my friend, behold yon cemetery, and see how many tombs and graves
there be;
how many hundred thousand delicate ones there sleep
in slumber deep.
Much toiled they every one and strove,
and feverishly burned with barren hope and selfish love,
and shining garments jewel-sprinkled wove.
Jars of gold and silver fashioned they,
and from the people profit bore away, much trickery revealing, and great moneys
stealing;
but, at the end, with a full regretful
sigh they laid them down to die.
Their treasuries they filled, and in their hearts well-tilled
planted the seed of lustful greed;
but, at the last,
from all these things
they passed.
So burdened, suddenly
at the door of death they sank, and
there the cup of destiny they drank.
O my friend, ponder well thy dissolution, and get thee betimes thine
absolution;
or, know it full well,
thou shalt in torment
dwell.
In this same period Abu
Sa’id ibn Abi ‘l-Khair of Maihana (Khorasan), a man of great saintliness who
met and corresponded with the masterphilosopher Avicenna, is credited with
having used the newly invented and popular roba’i (quatrain) as his
medium for expressing mystical ideas and experiences. His contemporary Baba
Taher, a wandering dervish, composed dialect verses in a somewhat similar
quatrain form to court the Heavenly Beloved, pictured as coy and cruelly
reluctant as any rustic maiden.
Like hyacinths on roses
Thy tangled locks are
strung;
Shake out those
gleaming tresses,
And lo, a lover young
On every hair is hung.
The breeze that fans
thy tresses
Surpasseth fragrant
posies.
In sleep I press thine
image,
And as mine eye
uncloses
I breathe the scent of
roses.
Give me thy two soft tresses, Therewith my lute I’ll string; Since
thou wilt never love me, Why dost thou nightly bring Soft dreams, my heart to
wring?
Two eyes with surmeh
languid,
Two curls that idly stray, A body
slim, seductive— And dost thou truly say, “Why art thou troubled, pray?”
Thou hast me, soul and
body,
My darling, sweet and
pure;
I cannot tell what ails
me,
But this I know for
sure,
Thou only art my cure.
The rise of Persian Sufi Literature
The
central theme of this ecstatic literature of early Persia Sufism was the
yearning of the lover (the mystic) for the Beloved (God), and for a renewal of
that intimate union which existed between the two before the dawn of creation.
The language and imagery of old Arab erotic poetry became transformed into a
rich and highly symbolical vocabulary mystical aspiration. This theme was
taken up again by Ahmad al- Ghazali of Tus, brother of the more famous Hojjat
al-Islam whose learned and eloquent Arabic writings completed the
reconciliation between Sufism and orthodoxy. The Savaneh of Ahmad
al-Ghazali (d. 1123), a series of short and very subtle meditations in prose
and verse upon the trinity of Beloved, Love, and Lover, set a fashion which was
followed by, amongst others, Ain al-Qozat of Hamadan (executed in 1131), the
poet Eraqi (d. 1289), and the great Jami (d. 1492).
By the beginning of the
twelfth century, the ghazal (lyric) had also, like the roba’i,
been taken over for Sufi use by the mystical lovers of God, who combined with
its erotic symbolism a bacchanalian imagery deriving from the profane songs of
Abu Nowas and his school. The qasida (formal ode), the ancient creation
of the pagan bards of Arabia and originally confined to panegyric and satire,
had been converted to religious purposes by Naser-e Khosrau the Esma’ili propagandist
(d. 1060). The way was thus prepared for the emergence of the first major
mystical poet of Persia, Sana’i, who devoted a long life (ending about 1140)
and great talent to preaching in verse the Sufi discipline and doctrine.
The nightingale hath no repose
For joy that ruby blooms the rose;
Long time it is that Philomel
Hath loved like me the rosy dell.
‘Tis sure no wonder if I sing
Both night and day my fair sweeting:
Let me be slave to that bird’s tongue Who late the rose’s praise
hath sung!
O saki, when the days
commence
Of ruby roses,
abstinence
By none is charged;
then pour me wine
Like yonder rose
incarnadine.
Not content with using qasida,
ghazal, and roba’i in masterly fashion, Sana’i broke new ground in
taking over the mathnavi (the rhyming couplet perfected and immortalized
by Ferdausi in his Epic of Kings) as the medium par excellence for
mystical instruction, an example presently followed by Nezami (once in his Treasury
of Secrets). Attar, Rumi, and thereafter by a host of notable emulators.
His Hadiqat al-haqiqa (“Garden of Truth”), divided into ten graduated
chapters in which the doctrine is kindly interspersed with illustrative
anecdotes, is in effect an adaptation in verse of the prose treatises of al-
Qoshairi and Hojwiri. As a poet Sana’i perhaps did not reach the topmost
heights; as a pioneer of what was to prove the mainspring of poetic inspiration
in Persia (and without hi example, we might never have enjoyed the masterpieces
of Rumi, Sa’di, Hafez, Jami, and how many more) he fully merit the fame which
he has secured.
To historical or
semi-historical anecdote, the raw material of Sufi hagiography, now came to be
added the apologue, the invented parable. Credit for the perfecting of this
genre in Persian Sufi literature belongs to Sohrawardi Maqtul (executed at
Aleppo in 1191), a rigorous philosopher turned mystic whose beautiful myths
(in which animal symbolism is freely used, harking- back to the Fables of
Bidpai mediated through the Kalila va-Demna which the Persian Ibn
al- Moqaffa’ in about 75 put into Arabic from the Pahlavi) mount back via
Avicenna to Plato. Thus, the Neo-Platonist doctrine of the descent of the soul
into the body, which had been accepted by the Sufis as a prefiguration of the
Koranic concept of a Primordial Covenant and which found eloquent expression in
Avicenna’s famous Poem of the Soul, is built by Sohravardi into a very
striking an graphic myth.
A certain king
possessed a garden which through all the four seasons never lacked for fragrant
herbs, verdant grasses and joyous pleas- ances; great waters therein flowed,
and all manner of birds sitting in the branches poured forth songs of every
kind. Indeed, every melody that could enter the mind and every beauty that imagination
might conceive, all was to be found in that garden. Moreover a company of
peacocks, exceedingly graceful, elegant and fair, had there made their abode
and dwelling-place.
One day the king laid
hold of one of the peacocks and gave orders that he should be sewn up in a
leather jacket, in such wise that naught of the colours of his wings remained
visible, and however much he tried he could not look upon his own beauty. He
also commanded that over his head a basket should be placed having only one
aperture, through which a few grains of millet might be dropped, sufficient to
keep him alive.
Some time passed, and
the peacock forgot himself, the garden-kingdom and the other peacocks.
Whenever he looked at himself he saw nothing but a filthy, ugly sack of leather
and a very dark and disagreeable dwelling-place. To that he reconciled
himself, and it became fixed in his mind that no land could exist larger than
the basket in which he was. He firmly believed that if anyone should pretend
that there was a pleasurable life or an abode of perfection beyond it, it would
be rank heresy and utter nonsense and stupidity. For all that, whenever a
breeze blew and the scent of the flowers and trees, the roses and violets and
jasmine and fragrant herbs was wafted to him through the hole, he experienced a
strange delight and was curiously moved, so that the joy of flight filled his
heart. He felt a mighty yearning within him, but knew not the source of that
yearning, for he had no idea that he was anything but a piece of leather,
having forgotten everything beyond his basket-world and fare of millet. Again,
if ever he heard the modulations of the peacocks and the songs of the other
birds he was likewise transported with yearning and longing; yet he was not
wakened out of his trance by the voices of the birds and the breath of the
zephyr.
The rest of this myth,
with its subtle use of quotations from ancient Arabic poetry and the Koran, may
be read in my Classical Persian Literature. It recalls a greater animal
fable with a spiritual meaning, the sublime Manteq al-tair of Attar
which Edward FitzGerald epitomized in his Bird-Parliament. Meanwhile,
within the field of hagiography (with which this present book is primarily
concerned), full-length biographies of individual Sufi saints had begun to
appear. The life and sayings of Abu Yazid of Bestam provided al-Sahlagi with
very rich materials. Ibn Khafif of Shiraz found a Boswell in his pupil
al-Dailami. The poet-mystic Abu Sa’id ibn Abi ‘l-Khair was commemorated by two
biographers of his own descendants. The fashion was thus established for
countless disciples to collect the acts and words of their Sufi masters; a very
famous later instance is the Fihe ma fihe in which one of Rumi’s circle
published the Discourses of that great man. Mention may be made in this
context of the Ma’aref (“Gnoses”) of Rumi’s father, a lengthy
autobiography recording in a wealth of detail the spiritual experiences of the
author.
Such in brief is the
background against which we may assess the works and achievements of the author
of the book here translated.
Attar and his “Memorial of the
Saints” In addition to the poetical writings, we
possess from Attar’s pen one work in prose, this Memorial of the Saints
(the Tadhkerat al-auliya’) whose genuineness, certainly over a very substantial
part (I refer to the edition by R. A. Nicholson from which all the following
references are taken), is beyond reasonable doubt. It seems probable that this
book was completed and made public somewhat late in Attar’s life, but that
large sections existed in draft when he was writing his poems; for many
apologues in these were clearly based on materials assembled in the Memorial.
In the preface to the Memorial Attar lists his reasons for writing the
book, but not the sources used by him. His declared motives, as summarized by
R. A. Nicholson, were as follows:
1)
He was
begged to do so by his religious brethren.
2)
He hoped
that some of those who read the work would bless the author and thus, possibly,
secure his welfare beyond the grave.
3)
He
believes that the words of the Saints are profitable even to those who cannot
put them into practice, inasmuch as they strengthen aspiration and destroy
self-conceit.
4)
Jonaid
said, “Their sayings are one of the armies of Almighty God whereby He confirms
and reinforces the disciple, if his heart be dejected.”
5)
According
to the Prophet, “Mercy descends at the mention of the pious”: peradventure, if
one spreads a table on which Mercy falls like rain, he will not be turned away
portionless.
6)
Attar
trusts that the blessed influence of the Saints may be vouchsafed to him and
bring him into happiness before he dies.
7)
He busied
himself with their sayings in the hope that he might make himself to resemble
them.
8)
The Koran
and the Traditions cannot be understood without knowledge of Arabic, wherefore
most people are unable to profit by them; and the Sayings of the Saints, which
form a commentary on the Koran and the Traditions, were likewise uttered, for
the most part, in Arabic. Consequently the author has translated them into
Persian, in order that they may become accessible to all.
9)
Since an
idle word often excites keen resentment, the word of Truth is capable of
having a thousandfold effect even though you are unconscious thereof.
Similarly, Abd al-Rahman Eskafi said that the reading of the Koran was
effectual, although the reader might not understand it, just as a potion of
which the ingredients are unknown.
10)
Spiritual
words alone appeal to the author. Hence he composed this “daily task” for his
contemporaries, hoping to find some persons to share the meal which he has
provided.
11)
The Imam
Yusof Hamadhani advised some people, who asked him what they should do when the
Saints had passed away from the earth, to read eight pages of their Sayings
every day. Attar felt that it was incumbent upon him to supply this
desideratum.
12)
From his
childhood he had a predilection for the Sufis and took delight in their
sayings. Now, when such words are spoken only by impostors and when true spiritualists
have become as rare as the philosopher’s stone, he is resolved to popularize
literature of this kind so far as lies in his power’
13)
In the
present age the best men are bad, and holy men have been forgotten. The Memorial
is designed to remedy this state of things.
14)
The
Sayings of the Saints dispose men to renounce the world, meditate on the future
life, love God, and set about preparing for their last journey. “One may say
that there does not exist in all creation a better book than this, for their
words are a commentary on the Koran and Traditions, which are the best of all
words. Any one who reads it properly will perceive what passion must have been
in the souls of those men to bring forth such deeds and words as they have done
and said.”
I5) A further motive was the hope of obtaining their intercession
hereafter and of being pardoned, like the dog of the Seven Sleepers which,
though it be all skin and bone, will nevertheless be admitted to Paradise.
In his preface Attar
mentions three books which he recommends for those ambitious to attain a full
understanding of the pronouncement of the Sufis. These he entitles: Ketab
Sharh al-qalb (“The Exposition of the Heart”), Ketab Kashf al-asrar (“The
Revelation of the Secrets”), and Ketab Ma’refat al-nafs wa’l-Rabb (“The
Knowledge of the Self and of the Lord”). No clue is given here to the
authorship of these works, but Attar refers in one other context (II, 99) to
the Sharh al-qalb as a book of his own composition; see also Attar’s
introduction to his own Mokhtar-nama. It may therefore be deduced that
Attar was the author of the other two titles. No copy of any of the three has
so far been recovered.
Sources of Attar’s
“Memorial”
Since
Attar did not trouble to specify the precise sources upon which he drew in compiling
the Memorial, these are to be identified on the basis of internal
evidence. It cannot be claimed that anything like a complete analysis has been
attempted, for such a task (wanting direct clues) is obviously very intricate
and laborious, requiring a prolonged research. So far, however, it has been
established as certain that Attar consulted the authors and texts here listed.
1)
Hekayat
al-mashayekh of Abu Mohammad Ja’fer ibn Mohammad
al-Kholdi (d. 348/959). Attar quotes from al-Kholdi once directly (II, 51); in
the supplementary section of the Memorial his biography is briefly given
(II, 284-85), but that part of the text is of very doubtful authenticity. For
further in formation on al-Kholdi, described by Hojwiri (Kashf al-mahjub,
trans. R. A. Nicholson, p. 156) as “the well-known biographer of the Saints”,
see C. Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, Suppl. I, p.
358.
2) Ketab al-Loma’
of Abu Nasr ‘Abd Allah ibn ‘Ali al-Sarraj (d. 378/988). Mentioned specifically
in the supplement (II, I82-83) where a biographical notice is given; though
this reference is of questionable value, the section in which it occurs being
very likely a later addition, Attar’s use of this fundamental text can be
deduced from many contexts.
3) Tabaqat al-Sufiva of Abu ‘Abd al-Rahman Mohammad ibn al-Hosain al-Solami (d.
412/1021). This celebrated author, whose biographies of the Sufis Attar
undoubtedly used, is cited thrice in the supplement (II, 263, 308, 326).
4) Helyat al-auliya
of Abu No’aim Ahmad ibn ‘Abd Allah al-E’fahani (d. 430/1038). Though Abu No’aim
is not specifically named, it is clear that Attar knew and used this
encyclopaedic work.
5)
al
Resala of Abu ‘l-Qasem al-Qoshairi (d. 465/1072).
Cited by name in the main text (II, 135) and the supplement (II, 200, 207, 309,
332, 333), it is abundantly evident that Attar leaned very heavily on this
authoritative exposition of Sufi doctrine.
6 ) Kashf al-mahjub
of Abu’l-Hasan al-Hojwiri (d. c. 467/1075. Named once in the main text (II,
68), Hojwiri is verbally cited without acknowledgment in a number of passages.
This was the easier to contrive, since Hojwiri himself wrote in Persian
When dealing with
certain individual Sufis, Attar appears to have had access to some of their own
writings, either direct or through quotation by others, as well as to special
monographs on their lives and acts. Two obvious instances are al- Sahlaji’s
biography of Abu Yazid al-Bestami, and al-Dailami’s biography of Ibn Khafif.
Further reference to these two books will be found in my notes on the relevant
texts.
Though in his prefatory
remarks Attar lays much weight upon the “words” of the Sufis as his overriding
preoccupation, in fact he put at least equal stress on their “acts” or the
legends of their preternatural powers. In setting out his materials he took as
his model the Tabaqat al- Sufiya of al-Solami, in which the Sufis are
treated more or less in chronological order; he may well also have known
al-Ansari’s Persian version of this book, which Jami later used as the foundation
of his Nafahat al-ons. It is to be noticed, however, that Attar
abandoned al-Solami’s arrangement of the Sufis by “classes”; he also found the Tabaqat
inadequate on the human side. For valuable as that work undoubtedly is as an
anthology of Sufi dicta, to Attar, who was interested at least as much in the
personalities of the Sufis as in what they said and wrote, it needed to be
supplemented with biographical details. So to eke out al-Solami’s somewhat
austere fare, he combined with the Tabaqat the human and superhuman
materials contained in the Hekayat of al-Kholdi, the Resala of
al-Qoshairi, and the
Kashf al-mahjub of Hojwiri. The following table is self-explanatory in
establishing the relationship between the Memorial and its forerunners.
COMPARATIVE
TABLE OF SUFI BIOGRAPHIES
|
Attar |
Solami |
Qoshairi |
Hojwiri |
|
1. Ja’far
al-Sadeq |
— |
— |
9 |
|
2. Owais
al-Qarani |
— |
— |
IO |
|
3. al-Hasan
al-BaSri |
— |
— |
12 |
|
4. Malek ibn
Dinar |
— |
— |
15 |
|
5. Mohammad
ibn Wase’ |
— |
— |
18 |
|
6. Habib
al-’Ajami |
— |
— |
14 |
|
7. Abu Hazem
al-Makki |
— |
— |
19 |
|
8. ‘Otba
al-Gholam |
— |
— |
— |
|
9. Rabe’a
al-’Adawiya |
— |
— |
— |
|
10.
al-Fozail ibn ‘Iyaz |
1 |
3 |
22 |
|
11. Ebrahim
ibn Adham |
3 |
1 |
24 |
|
12. Beshr
al-Hafi |
4 |
6 |
25 |
|
13. Dho
‘l-Nun al-Mesri |
2 |
2 |
23 |
|
14. Abu
Yazid al-Bestami |
8 |
10 |
26 |
|
15. ‘Abd
Allah ibn al-Mobarak |
— |
— |
21 |
|
16. Sofyan
al-Thauri |
— |
— |
— |
|
17. Shaqiq
al-Balkhi |
7 |
9 |
30 |
|
18. Abu
Hanifa |
— |
— |
20 |
|
19.
al-Shafe’i |
— |
— |
34 |
|
20. Ahmad
ibn Hanbal |
— |
— |
35 |
|
Attar S |
olami |
Qoshairi |
Hojwiri |
|
21. Dawud
al-Ta’i |
— |
8 |
28 |
|
22.
al-Mohasebi |
6 |
7 |
27 |
|
23. Abu
Solaiman al-Dara’i |
9 |
12 |
31 |
|
24. Mohammad
ibn Sammak |
— |
— |
— |
|
25. Aslam
al-Tusi |
— |
— |
— |
|
26. Ahmad
ibn Harb |
— |
— |
— |
|
27. Hatem
al-Asamm |
11 |
13 |
33 |
|
28.
al-Tostari |
30 |
11 |
54 |
|
29. Ma’ruf
al-Karkhi |
10 |
4 |
32 |
|
30. Sari
al-Saqati |
5 |
5 |
29 |
|
31. Fath
al-Mauseli |
— |
— |
— |
|
32. Ahmad
ibn Abi ‘l-Hawari |
18 |
16 |
36 |
|
33. Ahmad
ibn Khazruya |
13 |
15 |
37 |
|
34. Abu
Torab al-Nakhshabi |
20 |
18 |
38 |
|
35. Yahya
ibn Mo’adh al-Razi |
14 |
14 |
39 |
|
36. Shah ibn
Shoja’ al-Kermani |
27 |
33 |
52 |
|
37. Yusof
ibn al-Hosain al-Razi |
26 |
34 |
50 |
|
38. Abu Hafs
al-Haddad |
15 |
17 |
40 |
|
39. Hamdun
al-Qassar |
16 |
22 |
41 |
|
40. Mansur
ibn ‘Ammar |
17 |
21 |
42 |
|
41.
al-Antaki |
18 |
20 |
43 |
|
42. ‘Abd
Allah ibn Khobaiq |
19 |
19 |
44 |
|
43.
al-Jonaid |
21 |
23 |
45 |
|
44. ‘Amr ibn
‘Othman al-Makki |
29 |
30 |
53 |
|
45. Abu
Sa’id al-Kharraz |
34 |
37 |
58 |
|
46. Abu
‘I-Hosain al-Nuri |
22 |
25 |
46 |
Attar
72.
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Kitaba Ulaşmakta Sorun Yaşayanlar
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