Abú Hashím (ob. 150 A.H.) was the first to bear the name of Súfí,
while Dhu'l-Nún-al-Misri (245 A.H.) may be said to have given Súfíism
its permanent shape. Rābi'a, of Basra, was the first woman to join
the sect, and her saintliness and wise sayings have been preserved by
Farídu'd-Dín 'Attár. One day a great sickness fell upon Rabi'a, and on
being asked the reason for it she replied: "I dwelt upon the joys of
Paradise and therefore my Beloved has chastened me."
Rābi'a did not believe in earthly marriage. Her remark on the subject
is given as follows: "The bonds of wedlock have descended upon me. I am
not my own, but my Lord's, and must not be unfaithful to Him." 'Attár
also informs us that when Rābi'a was asked if she hated the devil, she
replied: "My love to God leaves me no time to hate him." Rābi'a was a
woman of much independence of thought, ethical rather than metaphysical
in her remarks, and strongly opposed to outward ceremonials. She is
said to have died at Jerusalem, 753 A.D. It was at Ramla, in Palestine,
that a Christian nobleman built a convent (_Khāngāh_) for the Súfís.
Thus in the early days the sect defied their Prophet's condemnation of
monkery by building an abode for members of the order. The Súfís were
strongly opposed to the idea of free-will or distinct and self-existent
personality apart from the Beloved. The orthodox Muslim's idea was
precisely the reverse. The Súfís have always made the Koran their
text-book. With infinite licence they ingeniously quote therefrom,
and still more ingeniously add their own explanations when necessary.
No doubt there were political reasons for adopting this method of
concealing heterodox ideas under the cloak of orthodoxy. We shall see,
however, as the sect grew and still further broadened its views, that
these clever compromises did not prevent the appearance of martyrs
among their number in the future.
By the end of the second century of the Hijira the Súfís were a
much-respected religious order. In the following century Quietism had
not only changed to Pantheism, but Pantheism had kindled a belief that
Beloved and lover were identical. The step was inevitable and at this
juncture it was that Súfíism became essentially mystical, and it became
more mystical as years advanced. About this time, viz., the beginning
of the third century A.H., we come across two interesting Súfís who
seem to have been the prime movers in this new development, by name
Bayázíd and Mansur al-Halláj.
Concerning the saint Bayázíd an interesting story is told in the
Fourth Book of the _Masnavi_. The saint surprised his disciples one
day by saying: "Lo, I myself am God Almighty. There is no God beside
me; worship me!" The disciples, thinking their Master was beside
himself, told him, when the strange ecstasy had passed, what he had
said. Bayázíd promptly replied: "If I do so again straightway slay
me!" His disciples accordingly sharpened their knives. Once more
Bayázíd cried out: "Within my vesture is naught but God, whether you
seek Him on earth or heaven." The disciples, horror-struck at his
remarks, straightway plunged their knives into Bayázíd's body. But
their blades were turned back against their own throats, so that
they died. He explained to the few disciples, who had not struck him,
that the ecstasy he had been experiencing annihilated self, "His form
is vanished, he is a mere mirror." The disciples who had struck him
saw their own faces in that mirror and so wounded themselves, and not
Bayázíd, whose soul had left the mirror of his body and was one with
the Beloved.
Perhaps the life of Mansur al-Halláj is even more interesting. Whether
he was a mere adventurer or genuine exponent of Súfíism is still
open to controversy among modern Súfís. It will be perfectly safe to
describe him as either a saint or a vagabond. He was possibly both
extremes to suit the necessities of a very exciting and eventful
career. He was born in the close of the ninth century A.D., and was
said to perform many miracles, such as raising the dead to life, and
drawing gold and flowers from the air. According to his own belief he
could write verses equal to those of the Koran. He went one better
than the "superman" theory, however, and called himself God, and
his disciples after the various prophets. Akbar was called God, but
deification in this case did not sound from his own trumpet; it sounded
from the trumpet of an enthusiastic poet: "See Akbar and you see God."
Al-Halláj visited India for the purpose of studying magic, and there
saw the celebrated Rope Trick, on that occasion performed by a woman,
a point of considerable interest.[2] This mystic-adventurer wrote
forty-six books, and certainly gained considerable influence over
the lower classes by his many signs and wonders. He is said to have
disputed the necessity of making a pilgrimage to Mecca by stating that
by occult practices it could be performed equally well in any room. On
a certain occasion, however, we cannot help but admire Al-Halláj's wit
and aptitude. One day he stretched forth an empty hand and produced
from the air an apple, which he asserted he had plucked from Paradise.
One of his witnesses disputed his assertion, because this particular
apple was maggot-eaten, and therefore not of Divine origin. Al-Halláj
at once replied: "It is because it bath come forth from the Mansion of
Eternity to the Abode of Decay: therefore to its heart hath corruption
found its way!"
Al-Halláj, on account of his various heretical teachings, was
imprisoned and subjected to all manner of cruelties. Bravely he went
forth to the place of crucifixion. For four days he was nailed on a
cross on both sides of the Tigris. From these tortures he was finally
released. Ten years later he was executed, telling his disciples he
would return to them in thirty days, and exultantly reciting poetry,
he cried: "From His own cup He bade me sup, for such is hospitality!"
A comment of his on Súfíism--a very ironical one--was: "That which is
mine, for by God I never distinguished for a moment between pleasure
and pain!" Yet another characteristic saying of his was: "The way
to God is two steps: one step out of this world and one step out of
the next world, and lo! you are there with the Lord!" Whatever were
the faults of Al-Halláj, and they were many, at least it may be said
of him that he was a brave man. With all his fanaticism, his absurd
indiscretion and love of conjuring, he left much behind of permanent
value to the Súfís. The Government, in those days, did all in its power
to restrain the publicity of his books; but a light that was never
for a moment set under a bushel cannot be hid; the very attempt to
obliterate it is in itself the cause for a keener and more persistent
search.
In the fifth century of the Hijira we may note Abu-l-Khair as the first
to give Súfíism politic significance, and Imān Ghazālī as the first to
give it a metaphysical basis. At this time we find in Súfí books many
terms borrowed from the Neo-Platonists. Books on ethics, as well as
poetry, now became impregnated with Súfí ideas.