SHARANI, THE EGYPTIAN
(AD 1550)
One of the last representatives of the mystical school of Islam is
Sharani, who wrote in the middle of the sixteenth century. In his time
Egypt had just been conquered by the Turks, whose military despotism
took the place of the feudal anarchy which had prevailed under the
Mameluke sultans. The supremacy of Islam was not affected by the change,
the Turks being as sincere Moslems as the Arabs. The administration of
the country was centralised in the hands of a Pasha, who resided at
Cairo as governor-general. As elsewhere in the Muhammadan world, the
most powerful class was that of the Ulema, or learned men. The generous
gifts which the Sultan showered upon them and the privileged position he
allowed them quickly reconciled them to the new regime. But there was
another numerous body, who, though deprived of the substantial
advantages which the Ulema enjoyed, had, however, with the masses a
prestige almost as great. These were the Sufis. Poor and humble, they
were lost in the crowd, whence they drew their origin, and whose
miseries they shared. A smouldering animosity existed between these
Essenes of Islam and the Ulema, who corresponded to the Pharisees. These
last claimed to be the exclusive depositaries of religious knowledge
and divine wisdom; they administered justice and monopolised benefices.
The doctrine of the Sufis was in diametrical opposition to this. In
their eyes the knowledge derived from books and theological science was
far inferior to the inner perception of the supernatural, the mystic
intuition to which they claimed to attain in their religious ecstacies.
They regarded the theosophist as far superior in every respect to the
theologian. Besides this, they considered the different sects of Islam
as equally good, and attached no importance to any of the formalities of
the ceremonial law, the strict observation of which was considered by
the orthodox as binding on every good Moslem. Thus, the reading of the
Koran, with rhythmical intonation, as practised in every mosque, had in
their eyes no value. To adore God with a pure heart, according to them,
was infinitely more important than all outward observances.
Such ideas could not be acceptable to the Ulemas, who saw the absolute
authority in religious matters slipping from their hands. Only a
moderate power of perception was needed to understand what dangers for
the official hierarchy lurked in the ideas of these enthusiasts who
claimed to derive divine wisdom from a source so different to that of
which the Ulemas believed themselves to be the sole dispensers.
It is true that Arab mysticism had never taken such a bold flight as
Persian theosophy, which proclaimed openly a Pantheistic system, in
which the authority of the books revealed to different prophets was
displaced by a poetic belief. According to this faith, the universe was
an emanation of God, the human soul a spark of the Divine Essence gone
astray in this transitory world, but destined to return finally to God,
after having been purified of its earthly stains. The Arab Sufis did not
go so far; for them the Koran was always the Word of God, and Muhammed
was His prophet. They conformed externally to the precepts of Islam, but
claimed at the same time to understand God and His law better than the
theologians, and that not by the study of large volumes of exegesis and
traditions, but by celestial inspiration. The orthodox mullahs
understood the danger, and did not conceal their growing irritation
against these audacious heretics. The government and the great majority
of Moslems were on the side of the Ulema, but the mystics found sympathy
among the people, and their ideas spread with incredible rapidity.
In the eleventh century, a man of great ability, of whom the Muhammadans
are justly proud, made a vigorous effort to reconcile orthodox Islam
with the Sufi doctrines current in his time. This man was Ghazzali. He
consecrated the labour of a lifetime to this task, and his chief work,
"The Revival of the Religious Sciences," is a veritable encyclopædia of
Islam. He did not work in vain, but succeeded in erecting a system in
which dogmatic theology is cleverly combined with the theosophy of the
Arab school of mysticism. But Islam such as Ghazzali conceived it is no
longer that of ancient times. Another order of ideas has been insensibly
substituted for the austere creed of the Prophet of Mecca, the very
foundations of which they have undermined. Muhammad's religious edifice
remains standing, its framework and external outlines are the same; but
the spirit which informs it is profoundly different. Arab mysticism has
succeeded in finding a footing in the official circles of the Moslem
hierarchy.
The reconciliation, however, of the mystics with the theologians was
only apparent, and could not be otherwise. At the bottom of the question
there were two incompatible principles. For the theologians the letter
of the Koran and written tradition contained all religious knowledge.
For the mystics the dead letter was nothing, and the inspiration of
their own hearts was the sole source of all knowledge. Of these two
principles, one subordinates reason to tradition and tends to the almost
complete abdication of thought in favour of absolute faith; the other
results in enthroning imagination, spiritual hallucination and mystic
ecstacy. The first confines religion to too narrow limits; the second
robs it of all palpable substance and positive form, and makes it as
vague and intangible as the clouds.
Egypt has always been a soil favourable to the development of mystic
tendencies. Christian asceticism took early root there, and during the
first centuries of our era thousands of anchorites inhabited the deserts
of the Thebaid, and carried on there religious exercises of extreme
austerity. We do not know what secret connection may exist between the
climate of the valley of the Nile and the character of its inhabitants,
but if the Arab chroniclers deserve any credit, Arab mysticism
originated in this country. The celebrated theosophist Zu'l Noun is
known as the first who introduced into Islam visions and mystic
ecstacies. Some centuries later the famous poet Omar Ibn Faridh saw the
light at Cairo, and since then Egypt has produced a long series of
Muhammadan ascetics more or less famous. Sharani is one of the last of
this theosophic school of Egypt, the doctrines of which he expounds in
his numerous works. We do not know if the impression he made on his
contemporaries was as great as the zeal with which he pleads the cause
of mysticism, but up to the present day his memory is religiously
preserved at Cairo, where a mosque still bears his name. The natives
revere his memory as that of a saint. He himself informs us that the
publication of his work entitled "Al bahr al Maurud" gave rise to
serious disturbances at Cairo.
In this work Sharani expounds the duties of the true Sufi, the perfect
theosophist, and at the same time in very energetic language he exposes
the defects and weakness of the Muhammadan society of his day. His most
virulent attacks are naturally directed against the Ulema, as in the
following extract:
"We Sufis have entered into an engagement never to allow one of our body
to have recourse to intrigues to obtain employment such as those
practised by self-styled doctors of the law. The endeavour to obtain
such a post is all the more contemptible when it has belonged to a
person recently deceased who has left sons or brothers or when it is
already occupied by a poor man who has no protector or support in the
world. Such acts of injustice, however, are often committed by the
so-called Ulema. The plot to supplant men of merit, with the aim of
obtaining for themselves lucrative posts, which they straightway
dispose of for money to incompetent individuals.
"Often one man occupies more than one office, _e.g._, that of preacher
in mosques so far apart that it is impossible for him to attend to both
properly; in which case he puts in a deputy-preacher (sometimes he does
not even do that) and pays him part of the emolument of the post,
pocketing the rest.
"We have also entered into an engagement to rise before our superiors
when they appear, and to kiss their hands even when they are unjust. We
do this with the Ulema, although they do not act in a manner conformable
to the science which they profess."
In speaking of the Christians and the Jews, he praises their demeanour,
in order to censure all the more sharply the pretensions of the Ulema.
"See," he says, "how modestly they conduct themselves towards the
meanest subordinates, and you will see that their manners and demeanour
are more noble and worthy of imitation than those of the Ulema. They are
not angry if people do not make room for them when they enter a public
assembly; and if they are offered to drink water which has been sullied
by the hands of children, slaves or beggars, they do not change
countenance, but on the contrary consider themselves as the last of men.
When they are allowed to sit down in an assembly they look upon it as a
favour. They take their places with heads bent, praying God to cover
their faults with the veil of his clemency, and not to expose them to
the scorn of others. These are the distinctive qualities of the truly
learned; for if learning does not increase the modesty of him who has
it, it is good for nothing."
These extracts make it sufficiently plain with what courage the daring
theosophist censured the most influential class of Moslem society in his
day. Sharani reproaches the Ulema, with their ambition, their cupidity,
their pride, their hypocrisy, and he advises them to confine themselves
in their sermons simply to dwelling on the precepts of the moral law and
to abstain from speaking of the recompenses and punishments of the
future life, since the destiny of souls after death depends on God, and
not on them.
As a natural consequence of these ideas, Sharani goes on to inveigh
against the Turkish Government, which, wishing to create for itself a
support in the powerful class of the Ulema, made them great concessions,
and by doing so annoyed their antagonists the Sufis. Thus Sharani does
not hesitate to say that since a.d. 1517 real learning had ceased to
exist, that being the date of the conquest of Egypt by the Sultan Selim.
The lot of the Egyptian fellahin or peasants has never been an enviable
one. Successive Roman and Arab dominations brought no change favourable
to them. Under the Mamelukes, when the country was parcelled out among
petty feudal lords ruling over their domains with absolute authority,
the condition of the peasants was one of extreme wretchedness. Sharani
finds that in his time the state of the agricultural class was worse
than formerly.
"In past times," he says, "when a peasant died, there was often found in
the corner of his house a jar, a pot or other vessel filled with pieces
of gold. It was what the poor man had saved from his harvests after
having paid his taxes and the daily expenses of his family and his
guests. But in our day, in order to pay his taxes, the peasant is often
obliged to sell the produce of his land, the ox with which he ploughs,
and the cow which gives him milk.
"If part of his tax is unpaid he is taken to prison, and often his wife
and children accompany him thither. Often the Kashif or governor
disposes of the hand of his daughter without consulting him, and her
dowry is kept back to pay the arrears of his tax. It sometimes happens
that the tax charged upon him is not really due from him at all, but
from his fellow-villagers who have gone away to avoid molestation."
Elsewhere he says, "We Sufis have entered into an engagement not to buy
merchandises, gardens or water-wheels, for in our time the taxes on
these are so heavy that no one can afford to possess them. Let him who
listens not to our counsel and acquires such property, blame himself if
he has to undergo all kinds of humiliations; if, in order that the
Government may pay for naval expeditions, it demands of him in advance a
year's taxes on his houses, his merchandise or his lands. Then he will
say with a sigh, 'How happy are they who possess nothing.'"
It is not difficult to see in these passages a profound dissatisfaction,
not only with the ruling class, but with the Government itself.
Notwithstanding this, Sharani enjoins his disciples to respect the
temporal authority and to submit to the laws. Passive obedience has
always characterised the Oriental.
We do not know precisely whether Sharani had in view a veritable reform
of Muhammadan society. Probably the contrary. He felt deeply the
general uneasiness of the time; he understood that Islam was entering a
period of decadence, but he had, as far as we can see, no clear plan for
its regeneration. Mysticism, in which he was such a fervent adept, here
hindered him. But this mystical tendency, which was in one respect his
weakness, was his glory in another. A tone of high moral purity marks
his utterances on the social and religious state of his time, and, led
rather by instinct than by philosophical considerations, he hits the
blot on Muhammadan society--polygamy. We may judge by the following
extract: "We Sufis have entered into an engagement to espouse only one
wife, and not to associate others with her.
"The man who has only one wife is happy; his means are sufficient to
support his home; but as soon as he takes a second wife, the prosperity
of his house decreases, and when he opens his money-box he finds it
empty. A pure-hearted wife is a great happiness in the house. Oh, how
often while I was weaving[59] have I stolen a glance at my wife, the
mother of my son Abdurahman, sewing garments for the poor. I understood
then that I had happiness in my house. Often she opened her larder which
sufficed us for whole months, and distributed the contents to the poor,
who quickly emptied it. May God be merciful to her."
As a religious reformer, Sharani endeavoured to restore Islam to its
primitive unity. Many sects existed in it from the earliest times[60]
four of which preserved the title of orthodox. Sharani sought to unite
these sects on a common basis, and numerous passages in his writings
attest that this idea remained with him all his life. His efforts
apparently had no success, but for those who have faith in the power of
ideas, it is certain that Sharani has not lived nor laboured in vain. In
the East, reforming ideas do not make way so quickly as in Europe, but
their effect is none the less great when they come to the front. Few
details of Sharani's life are known. He informs us that he belonged to
the order of the Shadiliyah dervishes, and that his instructor in
mysticism was the Egyptian Sufi, Ali Khawass. He died at Cairo, A.D.
1565.
[59] Sharani was a weaver by trade.
[60] They are generally reckoned at 73.