Chapter V: The Orthodox Caliphate and the Umayyad Dynasty (2)

It has been suggested that the name _Khárijí_ (plural, _Khawárij_) refers to a passage in the Koran (iv, 101) where mention is made of "those who go forth (_yakhruj_) from their homes as emigrants (_muhájiran_) to God and His Messenger"; so that 'Khárijite' means 'one who leaves his home among the unbelievers for God's sake,' and corresponds to the term _Muhájir_, which was applied to the Meccan converts who accompanied the Prophet in his migration to Medína.[386] Another name by which they are often designated is likewise Koranic in origin, viz., _Shurát_ (plural of _Shárin_): literally 'Sellers'--that is to say, those who sell their lives and goods in return for Paradise.[387] The Khárijites were mostly drawn from the Bedouin soldiery who settled in Baṣra and Kúfa after the Persian wars. Civil life wrought little change in their unruly temper. Far from acknowledging the peculiar sanctity of a Qurayshite, they desired a chief of their own blood whom they might obey, in Bedouin fashion, as long as he did not abuse or exceed the powers conferred upon him.[388] The mainspring of the movement, however, was pietistic, and can be traced, as Wellhausen has shown, to the Koran-readers who made it a matter of conscience that ‘Alí should avow his contrition for the fatal error which their own temporary and deeply regretted infatuation had forced him to commit. They cast off ‘Alí for the same reason which led them to strike at ‘Uthman: in both cases they were maintaining the cause of God against an unjust Caliph.[389] It is important to remember these facts in view of the cardinal Khárijite doctrines (1) that every free Arab was eligible as Caliph,[390] and (2) that an evil-doing Caliph must be deposed and, if necessary, put to death. Mustawrid b. ‘Ullifa, the Khárijite 'Commander of the Faithful,' wrote to Simák b. ‘Ubayd, the governor of Ctesiphon, as follows: "We call you to the Book of God Almighty and Glorious, and to the _Sunna_ (custom) of the Prophet--on whom be peace!--and to the administration of Abú Bakr and ‘Umar--may God be well pleased with them!--and to renounce ‘Uthmán and ‘Alí because they corrupted the true religion and abandoned the authority of the Book."[391] From this it appears that the Khárijite programme was simply the old Islam of equality and fraternity, which had never been fully realised and was now irretrievably ruined. Theoretically, all devout Moslems shared in the desire for its restoration and condemned the existing Government no less cordially than did the Khárijites. What distinguished the latter party was the remorseless severity with which they carried their principles into action. To them it was absolutely vital that the Imám, or head of the community, should rule in the name and according to the will of God: those who followed any other sealed their doom in the next world: eternal salvation hung upon the choice of a successor to the Prophet. Moslems who refused to execrate ‘Uthmán and ‘Alí were the worst of infidels; it was the duty of every true believer to take part in the Holy War against such, and to kill them, together with their wives and children. These atrocities recoiled upon the insurgents, who soon found themselves in danger of extermination. Milder counsels began to prevail. Thus the Ibáḍites (followers of ‘Abdulláh b. Ibáḍ) held it lawful to live amongst the Moslems and mix with them on terms of mutual tolerance. But compromise was in truth incompatible with the _raison d'être_ of the Khárijites, namely, to establish the kingdom of God upon the earth. This meant virtual anarchy: "their unbending logic shattered every constitution which it set up." As ‘Alí remarked, "they say, 'No government' (_lá imára_), but there must be a government, good or bad."[392] Nevertheless, it was a noble ideal for which they fought in pure devotion, having, unlike the other political parties, no worldly interests to serve.

[Sidenote: Their religion.]

The same fierce spirit of fanaticism moulded their religious views, which were gloomy and austere, as befitted the chosen few in an ungodly world. Shahrastání, speaking of the original twelve thousand who rebelled against ‘Alí, describes them as 'people of fasting and prayer' (_ahlu ṣiyámin wa-ṣalátin_).[393] The Koran ruled their lives and possessed their imaginations, so that the history of the early Church, the persecutions, martyrdoms, and triumphs of the Faith became a veritable drama which was being enacted by themselves. The fear of hell kindled in them an inquisitorial zeal for righteousness. They scrupulously examined their own belief as well as that of their neighbours, and woe to him that was found wanting! A single false step involved excommunication from the pale of Islam, and though the slip might be condoned on proof of sincere repentance, any Moslem who had once committed a mortal sin (_kabíra_) was held, by the stricter Khárijites at least, to be inevitably damned with the infidels in everlasting fire.

[Sidenote: Khárijite poetry.]

Much might be written, if space allowed, concerning the wars of the Khárijites, their most famous chiefs, the points on which they quarrelled, and the sects into which they split. Here we can only attempt to illustrate the general character of the movement. We have touched on its political and religious aspects, and shall now conclude with some reference to its literary side. The Khárijites did not produce a Milton or a Bunyan, but as Arabs of Bedouin stock they had a natural gift of song, from which they could not be weaned; although, according to the strict letter of the Koran, poetry is a devilish invention improper for the pious Moslem to meddle with. But these are poems of a different order from the pagan odes, and breathe a stern religious enthusiasm that would have gladdened the Prophet's heart. Take, for example, the following verses, which were made by a Khárijite in prison:--[394]

"'Tis time, O ye Sellers, for one who hath sold himself
To God, that he should arise and saddle amain.
Fools! in the land of miscreants will ye abide,
To be hunted down, every man of you, and to be slain?
O would that I were among you, armèd in mail,
On the back of my stout-ribbed galloping war-horse again!
And would that I were among you, fighting your foes,
That me, first of all, they might give death's beaker to drain!
It grieves me sore that ye are startled and chased
Like beasts, while I cannot draw on the wretches profane
My sword, nor see them scattered by noble knights
Who never yield an inch of the ground they gain,
But where the struggle is hottest, with keen blades hew
Their strenuous way and deem 'twere base to refrain.
Ay, it grieves me sore that ye are oppressed and wronged,
While I must drag in anguish a captive's chain."

[Sidenote: Qaṭarí b. al-Fujá’a.]

Qaṭarí b. al-Fujá’a, the intrepid Khárijite leader who routed army after army sent against him by Ḥajjáj, sang almost as well as he fought. The verses rendered below are included in the _Ḥamása_[395] and cited by Ibn Khallikán, who declares that they would make a brave man of the greatest coward in the world. "I know of nothing on the subject to be compared with them; they could only have proceeded from a spirit that scorned disgrace and from a truly Arabian sentiment of valour."[396]

"I say to my soul dismayed--
'Courage! Thou canst not achieve,
With praying, an hour of life
Beyond the appointed term.
Then courage on death's dark field,
Courage! Impossible 'tis
To live for ever and aye.
Life is no hero's robe
Of honour: the dastard vile
Also doffs it at last.'"

[Sidenote: The Shí‘ites.]

[Sidenote: The theory of Divine Right.]

The murder of ‘Uthmán broke the Moslem community, which had hitherto been undivided, into two _shí‘as_, or parties--one for ‘Alí and the other for Mu‘áwiya. When the latter became Caliph he was no longer a party leader, but head of the State, and his _shí‘a_ ceased to exist. Henceforth 'the Shí‘a' _par excellence_ was the party of ‘Alí, which regarded the House of the Prophet as the legitimate heirs to the succession. Not content, however, with upholding ‘Alí, as the worthiest of the Prophet's Companions and the duly elected Caliph, against his rival, Mu‘áwiya, the bolder spirits took up an idea, which emerged about this time, that the Caliphate belonged to ‘Alí and his descendants by Divine right. Such is the distinctive doctrine of the Shí‘ites to the present day. It is generally thought to have originated in Persia, where the Sásánian kings used to assume the title of 'god' (Pahlaví _bagh_) and were looked upon as successive incarnations of the Divine majesty.

[Sidenote: Dozy's account of its origin.]

"Although the Shí‘ites," says Dozy, "often found themselves under
the direction of Arab leaders, who utilised them in order to gain
some personal end, they were nevertheless a Persian sect at bottom;
and it is precisely here that the difference most clearly showed
itself between the Arab race, which loves liberty, and the Persian
race, accustomed to slavish submission. For the Persians, the
principle of electing the Prophet's successor was something unheard
of and incomprehensible. The only principle which they recognised
was that of inheritance, and since Muḥammad left no sons, they
thought that his son-in-law ‘Alí should have succeeded him, and that
the sovereignty was hereditary in his family. Consequently, all the
Caliphs except ‘Alí--_i.e._, Abú Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthmán, as well
as the Umayyads--were in their eyes usurpers to whom no obedience
was due. The hatred which they felt for the Government and for Arab
rule confirmed them in this opinion; at the same time they cast
covetous looks on the wealth of their masters. Habituated, moreover,
to see in their kings the descendants of the inferior divinities,
they transferred this idolatrous veneration to ‘Alí and his
posterity. Absolute obedience to the Imám of ‘Alí's House was in
their eyes the most important duty; if that were fulfilled all the
rest might be interpreted allegorically and violated without
scruple. For them the Imám was everything; he was God made man. A
servile submission accompanied by immorality was the basis of their
system."[397]

[Sidenote: The Saba’ites.]

[Sidenote: Doctrine of Ibn Sabá.]

Now, the Shí‘ite theory of Divine Right certainly harmonised with Persian ideas, but was it also of Persian origin? On the contrary, it seems first to have arisen among an obscure Arabian sect, the Saba’ites, whose founder, ‘Abdulláh b. Sabá (properly, Saba’), was a native of Ṣan‘á in Yemen, and is said to have been a Jew.[398] In ‘Uthmán's time he turned Moslem and became, apparently, a travelling missionary. "He went from place to place," says the historian, "seeking to lead the Moslems into error."[399] We hear of him in the Ḥijáz, then in Baṣra and Kúfa, then in Syria. Finally he settled in Egypt, where he preached the doctrine of palingenesis (_raj‘a_). "It is strange indeed," he exclaimed, "that any one should believe in the return of Jesus (as Messias), and deny the return of Muḥammad, which God has announced (Kor. xxviii, 85).[400] Furthermore, there are a thousand Prophets, every one of whom has an executor (_waṣí_), and the executor of Muḥammad is ‘Alí.[401] Muḥammad is the last of the Prophets, and ‘Alí is the last of the executors." Ibn Sabá, therefore, regarded Abú Bakr, ‘Umar, and ‘Uthmán as usurpers. He set on foot a widespread conspiracy in favour of ‘Alí, and carried on a secret correspondence with the disaffected in various provinces of the Empire.[402] According to Shahrastání, he was banished by ‘Alí for saying, "Thou art thou" (_anta anta_), _i.e._, "Thou art God."[403] This refers to the doctrine taught by Ibn Sabá and the extreme Shí‘ites (_Ghulát_) who derive from him, that the Divine Spirit which dwells in every prophet and passes successively from one to another was transfused, at Muḥammad's death, into ‘Alí, and from ‘Alí into his descendants who succeeded him in the Imámate. The Saba’ites also held that the Imám might suffer a temporary occultation (_ghayba_), but that one day he would return and fill the earth with justice. They believed the millennium to be near at hand, so that the number of Imáms was at first limited to four. Thus the poet Kuthayyir († 723 A.D.) says:--

"Four complete are the Imáms
‘Alí and his three good sons,
One was faithful and devout;
One, until with waving flags
Dwells on Mount Raḍwá, concealed:
of Quraysh, the lords of Right:
each of them a shining light.
Karbalá hid one from sight;
his horsemen he shall lead to fight,
honey he drinks and water bright."[404]

[Sidenote: The Mahdí or Messiah.]

The Messianic idea is not peculiar to the Shí‘ites, but was brought into Islam at an early period by Jewish and Christian converts, and soon established itself as a part of Muḥammadan belief. Traditions ascribed to the Prophet began to circulate, declaring that the approach of the Last Judgment would be heralded by a time of tumult and confusion, by the return of Jesus, who would slay the Antichrist (_Dajjál_), and finally by the coming of the Mahdí, _i.e._, 'the God-guided one,' who would fill the earth with justice even as it was then filled with violence and iniquity. This expectation of a Deliverer descended from the Prophet runs through the whole history of the Shí‘a. As we have seen, their supreme religious chiefs were the Imáms of ‘Alí's House, each of whom transmitted his authority to his successor. In the course of time disputes arose as to the succession. One sect acknowledged only seven legitimate Imáms, while another carried the number to twelve. The last Imám of the 'Seveners' (_al-Sab‘iyya_), who are commonly called Ismá‘ílís, was Muḥammad b. Ismá‘íl, and of the 'Twelvers' (_al-Ithná-‘ashariyya_) Muḥammad b. al-Ḥasan.[405] Both those personages vanished mysteriously about 770 and 870 A.D., and their respective followers, refusing to believe that they were dead, asserted that their Imám had withdrawn himself for a season from mortal sight, but that he would surely return at last as the promised Mahdí. It would take a long while to enumerate all the pretenders and fanatics who have claimed this title.[406] Two of them founded the Fáṭimid and Almohade dynasties, which we shall mention elsewhere, but they generally died on the gibbet or the battle-field. The ideal which they, so to speak, incarnated did not perish with them. Mahdiism, the faith in a divinely appointed revolution which will sweep away the powers of evil and usher in a Golden Age of justice and truth such as the world has never known, is a present and inspiring fact which deserves to be well weighed by those who doubt the possibility of an Islamic Reformation.

[Sidenote: Shí‘ite gatherings at Karbalá.]

The Shí‘a began as a political faction, but it could not remain so for any length of time, because in Islam politics always tend to take religious ground, just as the successful religious reformer invariably becomes a ruler. The Saba’ites furnished the Shí‘ite movement with a theological basis; and the massacre of Ḥusayn, followed by Mukhtár's rebellion, supplied the indispensable element of enthusiasm. Within a few years after the death of Ḥusayn his grave at Karbalá was already a place of pilgrimage for the Shí‘ites. When the 'Penitents' (_al-Tawwábún_) revolted in 684 they repaired thither and lifted their voices simultaneously in a loud wail, and wept, and prayed God that He would forgive them for having deserted the Prophet's grandson in his hour of need. "O God!" exclaimed their chief, "have mercy on Ḥusayn, the Martyr and the son of a Martyr, the Mahdí and the son of a Mahdí, the Ṣiddíq and the son of a Ṣiddíq![407] O God! we bear witness that we follow their religion and their path, and that we are the foes of their slayers and the friends of those who love them."[408] Here is the germ of the _ta‘ziyas_, or Passion Plays, which are acted every year on the 10th of Muḥarram, wherever Shí‘ites are to be found.

[Sidenote: Mukhtár.]

But the Moses of the Shí‘a, the man who showed them the way to victory although he did not lead them to it, is undoubtedly Mukhtár. He came forward in the name of ‘Alí's son, Muḥammad, generally known as Ibnu ’l-Ḥanafiyya after his mother. Thus he gained the support of the Arabian Shí‘ites, properly so called, who were devoted to ‘Alí and his House, and laid no stress upon the circumstance of descent from the Prophet, whereas the Persian adherents of the Shí‘a made it a vital matter, and held accordingly that only the sons of ‘Alí by his wife Fáṭima were fully qualified Imáms. Raising the cry of vengeance for Ḥusayn, Mukhtár carried this party also along with him. In 686 he found himself master of Kúfa. Neither the result of his triumph nor the rapid overthrow of his power concerns us here, but something must be said about the aims and character of the movement which he headed.

[Sidenote: The _Mawálí_ of Kúfa.]

"More than half the population of Kúfa was composed of _Mawálí_
(Clients), who monopolised handicraft, trade, and commerce. They
were mostly Persians in race and language; they had come to Kúfa as
prisoners of war and had there passed over to Islam: then they were
manumitted by their owners and received as clients into the Arab
tribes, so that they now occupied an ambiguous position
(_Zwitterstellung_), being no longer slaves, but still very
dependent on their patrons; needing their protection, bound to their
service, and forming their retinue in peace and war. In these
_Mawálí_, who were entitled by virtue of Islam to more than the
'dominant Arabism' allowed them, the hope now dawned of freeing
themselves from clientship and of rising to full and direct
participation in the Moslem state."[409]

[Sidenote: Mukhtár and the _Mawálí_.]

[Sidenote: Persian influence on the Shí‘a.]

Mukhtár, though himself an Arab of noble family, trusted the _Mawálí_ and treated them as equals, a proceeding which was bitterly resented by the privileged class. "You have taken away our clients who are the booty which God bestowed upon us together with this country. We emancipated them, hoping to receive the Divine recompense and reward, but you would not rest until you made them sharers in our booty."[410] Mukhtár was only giving the _Mawálí_ their due--they were Moslems and had the right, as such, to a share in the revenues. To the haughty Arabs, however, it appeared a monstrous thing that the despised foreigners should be placed on the same level with themselves. Thus Mukhtár was thrown into the arms of the _Mawálí_, and the movement now became not so much anti-Umayyad as anti-Arabian. Here is the turning-point in the history of the Shí‘a. Its ranks were swelled by thousands of Persians imbued with the extreme doctrines of the Saba’ites which have been sketched above, and animated by the intense hatred of a downtrodden people towards their conquerors and oppressors. Consequently the Shí‘a assumed a religious and enthusiastic character, and struck out a new path which led it farther and farther from the orthodox creed. The doctrine of 'Interpretation' (_Ta’wíl_) opened the door to all sorts of extravagant ideas. One of the principal Shí‘ite sects, the Háshimiyya, held that "there is an esoteric side to everything external, a spirit to every form, a hidden meaning (_ta’wíl_) to every revelation, and to every similitude in this world a corresponding reality in the other world; that ‘Alí united in his own person the knowledge of all mysteries and communicated it to his son Muḥammad Ibnu ’l-Ḥanafiyya, who passed it on to his son Abú Háshim; and that the possessor of this universal knowledge is the true Imám."[411] So, without ceasing to be Moslems in name, the Shí‘ites transmuted Islam into whatever shape they pleased by virtue of a mystical interpretation based on the infallible authority of the House of Muḥammad, and out of the ruins of a political party there gradually arose a great religious organisation in which men of the most diverse opinions could work together for deliverance from the Umayyad yoke. The first step towards this development was made by Mukhtár, a versatile genius who seems to have combined the parts of political adventurer, social reformer, prophet, and charlatan. He was crushed and his Persian allies were decimated, but the seed which he had sown bore an abundant harvest when, sixty years later, Abú Muslim unfurled the black standard of the ‘Abbásids in Khurásán.

[Sidenote: The oldest theological sects.]

Concerning the origin of the oldest theological sects in Islam, the Murjites and the Mu‘tazilites, we possess too little contemporary evidence to make a positive statement. It is probable that the latter at any rate arose, as Von Kremer has suggested, under the influence of Greek theologians, especially John of Damascus and his pupil, Theodore Abucara (Abú Qurra), the Bishop of Ḥarrán.[412] Christians were freely admitted to the Umayyad court. The Christian al-Akhṭal was poet-laureate, while many of his co-religionists held high offices in the Government. Moslems and Christians exchanged ideas in friendly discussion or controversially. Armed with the hair-splitting weapons of Byzantine theology, which they soon learned to use only too well, the Arabs proceeded to try their edge on the dogmas of Islam.

[Sidenote: The Murjites.]

The leading article of the Murjite creed was this, that no one who professed to believe in the One God could be declared an infidel, whatever sins he might commit, until God Himself had given judgment against him.[413] The Murjites were so called because they deferred (_arja’a_ = to defer) their decision in such cases and left the sinner's fate in suspense, so long as it was doubtful.[414] This principle they applied in different ways. For example, they refused to condemn ‘Alí and ‘Uthmán outright, as the Khárijites did. "Both ‘Alí and ‘Uthmán," they said, "were servants of God, and by God alone must they be judged; it is not for us to pronounce either of them an infidel, notwithstanding that they rent the Moslem people asunder."[415] On the other hand, the Murjites equally rejected the pretensions made by the Shí‘ites on behalf of ‘Alí and by the Umayyads on behalf of Mu‘áwiya. For the most part they maintained a neutral attitude towards the Umayyad Government: they were passive resisters, content, as Wellhausen puts it, "to stand up for the impersonal Law." Sometimes, however, they turned the principle of toleration against their rulers. Thus Ḥárith b. Surayj and other Arabian Murjites joined the oppressed _Mawálí_ of Khurásán to whom the Government denied those rights which they had acquired by conversion.[416] According to the Murjite view, these Persians, having professed Islam, should no longer be treated as tax-paying infidels. The Murjites brought the same tolerant spirit into religion. They set faith above works, emphasised the love and goodness of God, and held that no Moslem would be damned everlastingly. Some, like Jahm b. Ṣafwán, went so far as to declare that faith (_ímán_) was merely an inward conviction: a man might openly profess Christianity or Judaism or any form of unbelief without ceasing to be a good Moslem, provided only that he acknowledged Allah with his heart.[417] The moderate school found their most illustrious representative in Abú Ḥanífa († 767 A.D.), and through this great divine--whose followers to-day are counted by millions--their liberal doctrines were diffused and perpetuated.

[Sidenote: The Mu‘tazilites.]

During the Umayyad period Baṣra was the intellectual capital of Islam, and in that city we find the first traces of a sect which maintained the principle that thought must be free in the search for truth. The origin of the Mu‘tazilites (_al-Mu‘tazila_), as they are generally called, takes us back to the famous divine and ascetic, Ḥasan of Baṣra (†728 A.D.). One day he was asked to give his opinion on a point regarding which the Murjites and the Khárijites held opposite views, namely, whether those who had committed a great sin should be deemed believers or unbelievers. While Ḥasan was considering the question, one of his pupils, Wáṣil b. ‘Aṭá (according to another tradition, ‘Amr b. ‘Ubayd) replied that such persons were neither believers nor unbelievers, but should be ranked in an intermediate state. He then turned aside and began to explain the grounds of his assertion to a group which gathered about him in a different part of the mosque. Ḥasan said: "Wáṣil has separated himself from us" (_i‘tazala ‘anná_); and on this account the followers of Wáṣil were named 'Mu‘tazilites,' _i.e._, Schismatics. Although the story may not be literally true, it is probably safe to assume that the new sect originated in Baṣra among the pupils of Ḥasan,[418] who was the life and soul of the religious movement of the first century A.H. The Mu‘tazilite heresy, in its earliest form, is connected with the doctrine of Predestination. On this subject the Koran speaks with two voices. Muḥammad was anything but a logically exact and consistent thinker. He was guided by the impulse of the moment, and neither he nor his hearers perceived, as later Moslems did, that the language of the Koran is often contradictory. Thus in the present instance texts which imply the moral responsibility of man for his actions--_e.g._, "_Every soul is in pledge_ (with God) _for what it hath wrought_"[419]; "_Whoso does good benefits himself, and whoso does evil does it against himself_"[420]--stand side by side with others which declare that God leads men aright or astray, as He pleases; that the hearts of the wicked are sealed and their ears made deaf to the truth; and that they are certainly doomed to perdition. This fatalistic view prevailed in the first century of Islam, and the dogma of Predestination was almost universally accepted. Ibn Qutayba, however, mentions the names of twenty-seven persons who held the opinion that men's actions are free.[421] Two among them, Ma‘bad al-Juhaní and Abú Marwán Ghaylán, who were put to death by ‘Abdu ’l-Malik and his son Hishám, do not appear to have been condemned as heretics, but rather as enemies of the Umayyad Government.[422] The real founder of the Mu‘tazilites was Wáṣil b. ‘Aṭá († 748 A.D.),[423] who added a second cardinal doctrine to that of free-will. He denied the existence of the Divine attributes--Power, Wisdom, Life, &c.--on the ground that such qualities, if conceived as eternal, would destroy the Unity of God. Hence the Mu‘tazilites called themselves 'the partisans of Unity and Justice' (_Ahlu’l-tawḥíd wa-’l-‘adl_): of Unity for the reason which has been explained, and of Justice, because they held that God was not the author of evil and that He would not punish His creatures except for actions within their control. The further development of these Rationalistic ideas belongs to the ‘Abbásid period and will be discussed in a subsequent chapter.

[Sidenote: Growth of asceticism.]

[Sidenote: Ḥasan of Baṣra.]

The founder of Islam had too much human nature and common sense to demand of his countrymen such mortifying austerities as were practised by the Jewish Essenes and the Christian monks. His religion was not without ascetic features, _e.g._, the Fast of Ramaḍán, the prohibition of wine, and the ordinance of the pilgrimage, but these can scarcely be called unreasonable. On the other hand Muḥammad condemned celibacy not only by his personal example but also by precept. "There is no monkery in Islam," he is reported to have said, and there was in fact nothing of the kind for more than a century after his death. During this time, however, asceticism made great strides. It was the inevitable outcome of the Muḥammadan conception of Allah, in which the attributes of mercy and love are overshadowed by those of majesty, awe, and vengeance. The terrors of Judgment Day so powerfully described in the Koran were realised with an intensity of conviction which it is difficult for us to imagine. As Goldziher has observed, an exaggerated consciousness of sin and the dread of Divine punishment gave the first impulse to Moslem asceticism. Thus we read that Tamím al-Dárí, one of the Prophet's Companions, who was formerly a Christian, passed the whole night until daybreak, repeating a single verse of the Koran (xlv, 20)--"_Do those who work evil think that We shall make them even as those who believe and do good, so that their life and death shall be equal? Ill do they judge!_"[424] Abu ’l-Dardá, another of the Companions, used to say: "If ye knew what ye shall see after death, ye would not eat food nor drink water from appetite, and I wish that I were a tree which is lopped and then devoured."[425] There were many who shared these views, and their determination to renounce the world and to live solely for God was strengthened by their disgust with a tyrannical and impious Government, and by the almost uninterrupted spectacle of bloodshed, rapine, and civil war. Ḥasan of Baṣra († 728)--we have already met him in connection with the Mu‘tazilites--is an outstanding figure in this early ascetic movement, which proceeded on orthodox lines.[426] Fear of God seized on him so mightily that, in the words of his biographer, "it seemed as though Hell-fire had been created for him alone."[427] All who looked on his face thought that he must have been recently overtaken by some great calamity.[428] One day a friend saw him weeping and asked him the cause. "I weep," he replied, "for fear that I have done something unwittingly and unintentionally, or committed some fault, or spoken some word which is unpleasing to God: then He may have said, 'Begone, for now thou hast no more honour in My court, and henceforth I will not receive anything from thee.'"[429] Al-Mubarrad relates that two monks, coming from Syria, entered Baṣra and looked at Ḥasan, whereupon one said to the other, "Let us turn aside to visit this man, whose way of life appears like that of the Messiah." So they went, and they found him supporting his chin on the palm of his hand, while he was saying--"How I marvel at those who have been ordered to lay in a stock of provisions and have been summoned to set out on a journey, and yet the foremost of them stays for the hindermost! Would that I knew what they are waiting for!"[430] The following utterances are characteristic:--

"God hath made fasting a hippodrome (place or time of training) for
His servants, that they may race towards obedience to Him.[431] Some
come in first and win the prize, while others are left behind and
return disappointed; and by my life, if the lid were removed, the
well-doer would be diverted by his well-doing, and the evildoer by
his evil-doing, from wearing new garments or from anointing his
hair."[432]

"You meet one of them with white skin and delicate complexion,
speeding along the path of vanity: he shaketh his hips and clappeth
his sides and saith, 'Here am I, recognise me!' Yes, we recognise
thee, and thou art hateful to God and hateful to good men."[433]

"The bounties of God are too numerous to be acknowledged unless with
His help, and the sins of Man are too numerous for him to escape
therefrom unless God pardon them."[434]

"The wonder is not how the lost were lost, but how the saved were
saved."[435]

"Cleanse ye these hearts (by meditation and remembrance of God), for
they are quick to rust; and restrain ye these souls, for they desire
eagerly, and if ye restrain them not, they will drag you to an evil
end."[436]

[Sidenote: Ḥasan of Baṣra not a genuine Ṣúfí.]

The Ṣúfís, concerning whom we shall say a few words presently, claim Ḥasan as one of themselves, and with justice in so far as he attached importance to spiritual righteousness, and was not satisfied with merely external acts of devotion. "A grain of genuine piety," he declared, "is better than a thousandfold weight of fasting and prayer."[437] But although some of his sayings which are recorded in the later biographies lend colour to the fiction that he was a full-blown Ṣúfí, there can be no doubt that his mysticism--if it deserves that name--was of the most moderate type, entirely lacking the glow and exaltation which we find in the saintly woman, Rábi‘a al-‘Adawiyya, with whom legend associates him.[438]

[Sidenote: The derivation of 'Ṣúfí.']

[Sidenote: The beginnings of Ṣúfiism.]

The origin of the name 'Ṣúfí' is explained by the Ṣúfís themselves in many different ways, but of the derivations which have been proposed only three possess any claim to consideration, viz., those which connect it with σοφός (wise) or with _ṣafá_ (purity) or with _ṣúf_ (wool).[439] The first two are inadmissible on linguistic grounds, into which we need not enter, though it may be remarked that the derivation from _ṣafá_ is consecrated by the authority of the Ṣúfí Saints, and is generally accepted in the East.[440] The reason for this preference appears in such definitions as "The Ṣúfí is he who keeps his heart pure (_ṣáfí_) with God,"[441] "Ṣúfiism is 'the being chosen for purity' (_iṣṭifá_): whoever is thus chosen and made pure from all except God is the true Ṣúfí."[442] Understood in this sense, the word had a lofty significance which commended it to the elect. Nevertheless it can be tracked to a quite humble source. Woollen garments were frequently worn by men of ascetic life in the early times of Islam in order (as Ibn Khaldún says) that they might distinguish themselves from those who affected a more luxurious fashion of dress. Hence the name 'Ṣúfí,' which denotes in the first instance an ascetic clad in wool (_ṣúf_), just as the Capuchins owed their designation to the hood (_cappuccio_) which they wore. According to Qushayrí, the term came into common use before the end of the second century of the Hijra (= 815 A.D.). By this time, however, the ascetic movement in Islam had to some extent assumed a new character, and the meaning of 'Ṣúfí,' if the word already existed, must have undergone a corresponding change. It seems to me not unlikely that the epithet in question marks the point of departure from orthodox asceticism and that, as Jámí states, it was first applied to Abú Háshim of Kúfa (_ob._ before 800 _A.D._), who founded a monastery (_khánaqáh_) for Ṣúfís at Ramla in Palestine. Be that as it may, the distinction between asceticism (_zuhd_) and Ṣúfiism--a distinction which answers, broadly speaking, to the _via purgativa_ and the _via illuminativa_ of Western mediæval mysticism--begins to show itself before the close of the Umayyad period, and rapidly develops in the early ‘Abbásid age under the influence of foreign ideas and, in particular, of Greek philosophy. Leaving this later development to be discussed in a subsequent chapter, we shall now briefly consider the origin of Ṣúfiism properly so called and the first manifestation of the peculiar tendencies on which it is based.

As regards its origin, we cannot do better than quote the observations with which Ibn Khaldún († 1406 A.D.) introduces the chapter on Ṣúfiism in the Prolegomena to his great historical work:--

[Sidenote: Ibn Khaldún's account of the origin of Ṣúfiism.]

"This is one of the religious sciences which were born in Islam. The
way of the Ṣúfís was regarded by the ancient Moslems and their
illustrious men--the Companions of the Prophet (_al-Ṣaḥába_),
the Successors (_al-Tábi‘ún_), and the generation which came after
them--as the way of Truth and Salvation. To be assiduous in piety,
to give up all else for God's sake, to turn away from worldly gauds
and vanities, to renounce pleasure, wealth, and power, which are the
general objects of human ambition, to abandon society and to lead in
seclusion a life devoted solely to the service of God--these were
the fundamental principles of Ṣúfiism which prevailed among the
Companions and the Moslems of old time. When, however, in the second
generation and afterwards worldly tastes became widely spread, and
men no longer shrank from such contamination, those who made piety
their aim were distinguished by the title of _Ṣúfís_ or
_Mutaṣawwifa_ (aspirants to Ṣúfiism).[443]

[Sidenote: The earliest form of Ṣúfiism.]

From this it is clear that Ṣúfiism, if not originally identical with the ascetic revolt of which, as we have seen, Ḥasan of Baṣra was the most conspicuous representative, at any rate arose out of that movement. It was not a speculative system, like the Mu‘tazilite heresy, but a practical religion and rule of life. "We derived Ṣúfiism," said Junayd, "from fasting and taking leave of the world and breaking familiar ties and renouncing what men deem good; not from disputation" (_qíl wa-qál_).[444] The oldest Ṣúfís were ascetics and hermits, but they were also something more. They brought out the spiritual and mystical element in Islam, or brought it in, if they did not find it there already.

[Sidenote: The difference between asceticism and Ṣúfiism.]

"Ṣúfiism," says Suhrawardí,[445] "is neither 'poverty' (_faqr_) nor asceticism (_zuhd_), but a term which comprehends the ideas of both, together with something besides. Without these superadded qualities a man is not a Ṣúfí, though he may be an ascetic (_záhid_) or a fakír (_faqír_). It is said that, notwithstanding the excellence of 'poverty,' the end thereof is only the beginning of Ṣúfiism." A little further on he explains the difference thus:--

"The fakír holds fast to his 'poverty' and is profoundly convinced
of its superior merit. He prefers it to riches because he longs for
the Divine recompense of which his faith assures him ... and whenever
he contemplates the everlasting reward, he abstains from the
fleeting joys of this world and embraces poverty and indigence and
fears that if he should cease to be 'poor' he will lose both the
merit and the prize. Now this is absolutely unsound according to the
doctrine of the Ṣúfís, because he hopes for recompense and
renounces the world on that account, whereas the Ṣúfí does not
renounce it for the sake of promised rewards but, on the contrary,
for the sake of present 'states,' for he is the 'son of his
time.'...[446] The theory that 'poverty' is the foundation of
Ṣúfiism signifies that the diverse stages of Ṣúfiism are
reached by the road of 'poverty'; it does not imply that the Ṣúfí
is essentially a fakír."

[Sidenote: The early Ṣúfís.]

The keynote of Ṣúfiism is disinterested, selfless devotion, in a word, Love. Though not wholly strange, this idea was very far from being familiar to pious Muḥammadans, who were more deeply impressed by the power and vengeance of God than by His goodness and mercy. The Koran generally represents Allah as a stern, unapproachable despot, requiring utter submission to His arbitrary will, but infinitely unconcerned with human feelings and aspirations. Such a Being could not satisfy the religious instinct, and the whole history of Ṣúfiism is a protest against the unnatural divorce between God and Man which this conception involves. Accordingly, I do not think that we need look beyond Islam for the origin of the Ṣúfí doctrines, although it would be a mistake not to recognise the part which Christian influence must have had in shaping their early development. The speculative character with which they gradually became imbued, and which in the course of time completely transformed them, was more or less latent during the Umayyad period and for nearly a century after the accession of the House of ‘Abbás. The early Ṣúfís are still on orthodox ground: their relation to Islam is not unlike that of the mediæval Spanish mystics to the Roman Catholic Church. They attach extraordinary value to certain points in Muḥammad's teaching and emphasise them so as to leave the others almost a dead letter. They do not indulge in profound dialectic, but confine themselves to matters bearing on practical theology. Self-abandonment, rigorous self-mortification, fervid piety, and quietism carried to the verge of apathy form the main features of their creed.

[Sidenote: Ibráhím b. Adham.]

A full and vivid picture of early Ṣúfiism might be drawn from the numerous biographies in Arabic and Persian, which supply abundant details concerning the manner of life of these Muḥammadan Saints, and faithfully record their austerities, visions, miracles, and sayings. Here we have only space to add a few lines about the most important members of the group--Ibráhím b. Adham, Abú ‘Alí Shaqíq, Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ, and Rábi‘a--all of whom died between the middle and end of the second century after the Hijra (767-815 A.D.). Ibráhím belonged to the royal family of Balkh. Forty scimitars of gold and forty maces of gold were borne in front of him and behind. One day, while hunting, he heard a voice which cried, "Awake! wert thou created for this?" He exchanged his splendid robes for the humble garb and felt cap of a shepherd, bade farewell to his kingdom, and lived for nine years in a cave near Naysábúr.[447] His customary prayer was, "O God, uplift me from the shame of disobedience to the glory of submission unto Thee!"

"O God!" he said, "Thou knowest that the Eight Paradises are little
beside the honour which Thou hast done unto me, and beside Thy love,
and beside Thy giving me intimacy with the praise of Thy name, and
beside the peace of mind which Thou hast given me when I meditate on
Thy majesty." And again: "You will not attain to righteousness until
you traverse six passes (_‘aqabát_): the first is that you shut the
door of pleasure and open the door of hardship; the second, that you
shut the door of eminence and open the door of abasement; the third,
that you shut the door of ease and open the door of affliction; the
fourth, that you shut the door of sleep and open the door of
wakefulness; the fifth, that you shut the door of riches and open
the door of poverty; and the sixth, that you shut the door of
expectation and open the door of making yourself ready for death."

[Sidenote: Shaqíq of Balkh.]

[Sidenote: Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ.]

[Sidenote: Rábi‘a al-‘Adawiyya.]

Shaqíq, also of Balkh, laid particular stress on the duty of leaving one's self entirely in God's hands (_tawakkul_), a term which is practically synonymous with passivity; _e.g._, the _mutawakkil_ must make no effort to obtain even the barest livelihood, he must not ask for anything, nor engage in any trade: his business is with God alone. One of Shaqíq's sayings was, "Nine-tenths of devotion consist in flight from mankind, the remaining tenth in silence." Similarly, Fuḍayl b. ‘Iyáḍ, a converted captain of banditti, declared that "to abstain for men's sake from doing anything is hypocrisy, while to do anything for men's sake is idolatry." It may be noticed as an argument against the Indian origin of Ṣúfiism that although the three Ṣúfís who have been mentioned were natives of Khurásán or Transoxania, and therefore presumably in touch with Buddhistic ideas, no trace can be found in their sayings of the doctrine of dying to self (_faná_), which plays a great part in subsequent Ṣúfiism, and which Von Kremer and others have identified with _Nirvána_. We now come to a more interesting personality, in whom the ascetic and quietistic type of Ṣúfiism is transfigured by emotion and begins clearly to reveal the direction of its next advance. Every one knows that women have borne a distinguished part in the annals of European mysticism: St. Teresa, Madame Guyon, Catharine of Siena, and Juliana of Norwich, to mention but a few names at random. And notwithstanding the intellectual death to which the majority of Moslem women are condemned by their Prophet's ordinance, the Ṣúfís, like the Roman Catholics, can boast a goodly number of female saints. The oldest of these, and by far the most renowned, is Rábi‘a, who belonged to the tribe of ‘Adí, whence she is generally called Rábi‘a al-‘Adawiyya. She was a native of Baṣra and died at Jerusalem, probably towards the end of the second century of Islam: her tomb was an object of pilgrimage in the Middle Ages, as we learn from Ibn Khallikán († 1282 A.D.). Although the sayings and verses attributed to her by Ṣúfí writers may be of doubtful authenticity, there is every reason to suppose that they fairly represent the actual character of her devotion, which resembled that of all feminine mystics in being inspired by tender and ardent feeling. She was asked: "Do you love God Almighty?" "Yes." "Do you hate the Devil?" "My love of God," she replied, "leaves me no leisure to hate the Devil. I saw the Prophet in a dream. He said, 'O Rábi‘a, do you love me?' I said, 'O Apostle of God, who does not love thee?--but love of God hath so absorbed me that neither love nor hate of any other thing remains in my heart.'" Rábi‘a is said to have spoken the following verses:--

"Two ways I love Thee: selfishly,
And next, as worthy is of Thee.
'Tis selfish love that I do naught
Save think on Thee with every thought;
'Tis purest love when Thou dost raise
The veil to my adoring gaze.
Not mine the praise in that or this,
Thine is the praise in both, I wis."[448]

Whether genuine or not, these lines, with their mixture of devotion and speculation--the author distinguishes the illuminative from the contemplative life and manifestly regards the latter as the more excellent way--serve to mark the end of the ascetic school of Ṣúfiism and the rise of a new theosophy which, under the same name and still professing to be in full accord with the Koran and the _Sunna_, was founded to some extent upon ideas of extraneous origin--ideas irreconcilable with any revealed religion, and directly opposed to the severe and majestic simplicity of the Muḥammadan articles of faith.

[Sidenote: Umayyad literature.]

[Sidenote: The decline of Arabian poetry not due to Muḥammad.]

[Sidenote: The Umayyad poets.]

The opening century of Islam was not favourable to literature. At first conquest, expansion, and organisation, then civil strife absorbed the nation's energies; then, under the Umayyads, the old pagan spirit asserted itself once more. Consequently the literature of this period consists almost exclusively of poetry, which bears few marks of Islamic influence. I need scarcely refer to the view which long prevailed in Europe that Muḥammad corrupted the taste of his countrymen by setting up the Koran as an incomparable model of poetic style, and by condemning the admired productions of the heathen bards and the art of poetry itself; nor remind my readers that in the first place the Koran is not poetical in form (so that it could not serve as a model of this kind), and secondly, according to Muḥammadan belief, is the actual Word of God, therefore _sui generis_ and beyond imitation. Again, the poets whom the Prophet condemned were his most dangerous opponents: he hated them not as poets but as propagators and defenders of false ideals, and because they ridiculed his teaching, while on the contrary he honoured and rewarded those who employed their talents in the right way. If the nomad minstrels and cavaliers who lived, as they sang, the free life of the desert were never equalled by the brilliant laureates of imperial Damascus and Baghdád, the causes of the decline cannot be traced to Muḥammad's personal attitude, but are due to various circumstances for which he is only responsible in so far as he founded a religious and political system that revolutionised Arabian society. The poets of the period with which we are now dealing follow slavishly in the footsteps of the ancients, as though Islam had never been. Instead of celebrating the splendid victories and heroic deeds of Moslem warriors, the bard living in a great city still weeps over the relics of his beloved's encampment in the wilderness, still rides away through the sandy waste on the peerless camel, whose fine points he particularly describes; and if he should happen to be addressing the Caliph, it is ten to one that he will credit that august personage with all the virtues of a Bedouin Shaykh. "Fortunately the imitation of the antique _qaṣída_, at any rate with the greatest Umayyad poets, is to some extent only accessory to another form of art that excites our historical interest in a high degree: namely, the occasional poems (very numerous in almost all these writers), which are suggested by the mood of the moment and can shed a vivid light on contemporary history."[449]

[Sidenote: Music and song in the Holy Cities.]

[Sidenote: ‘Umar b. Abí Rabí‘a.]

The conquests made by the successors of the Prophet brought enormous wealth into Mecca and Medína, and when the Umayyad aristocracy gained the upper hand in ‘Uthmán's Caliphate, these towns developed a voluptuous and dissolute life which broke through every restriction that Islam had imposed. The increase of luxury produced a corresponding refinement of the poetic art. Although music was not unknown to the pagan Arabs, it had hitherto been cultivated chiefly by foreigners, especially Greek and Persian singing-girls. But in the first century after the Hijra we hear of several Arab singers,[450] natives of Mecca and Medína, who set favourite passages to music: henceforth the words and the melody are inseparably united, as we learn from the _Kitábu ’l-Aghání_ or 'Book of Songs,' where hundreds of examples are to be found. Amidst the gay throng of pleasure-seekers women naturally played a prominent part, and love, which had hitherto formed in most cases merely the conventional prelude to an ode, now began to be sung for its own sake. In this Peninsular school, as it may be named in contrast with the bold and masculine strain of the great Provincial poets whom we are about to mention, the palm unquestionably belongs to ‘Umar b. Abí Rabí‘a († 719 A.D.), the son of a rich Meccan merchant. He passed the best part of his life in the pursuit of noble dames, who alone inspired him to sing. His poetry was so seductive that it was regarded by devout Moslems as "the greatest crime ever committed against God," and so charming withal that ‘Abdulláh b. ‘Abbás, the Prophet's cousin and a famous authority on the Koran and the Traditions, could not refrain from getting by heart some erotic verses which ‘Umar recited to him.[451] The Arabs said, with truth, that the tribe of Quraysh had won distinction in every field save poetry, but we must allow that ‘Umar b. Abí Rabí‘a is a clear exception to this rule. His diction, like that of Catullus, has all the unaffected ease of refined conversation. Here are a few lines:--

"Blame me no more, O comrades! but to-day
Quietly with me beside the howdahs stay.
Blame not my love for Zaynab, for to her
And hers my heart is pledged a prisoner.
Ah, can I ever think of how we met
Once at al-Khayf, and feel no fond regret?
My song of other women was but jest:
She reigns alone, eclipsing all the rest.
Hers is my love sincere, 'tis she the flame
Of passion kindles--so, a truce to blame!"[452]

[Sidenote: Love-ballads.]

We have no space to dwell on the minor poets of the same school, al-‘Arjí (a kinsman of the Umayyads), al-Aḥwaṣ, and many others. It has been pointed out by Dr. C. Brockelmann that the love-poetry of this epoch is largely of popular origin; _e.g._, the songs attributed to Jamíl, in which Buthayna is addressed, and to Majnún--the hero of countless Persian and Turkish romances which celebrate his love for Laylá--are true folk-songs such as occur in the _Arabian Nights_, and may be heard in the streets of Beyrout or on the banks of the Tigris at the present day. Many of them are extremely beautiful. I take the following verses from a poem which is said to have been composed by Jamíl:--

"Oh, might it flower anew, that youthful prime,
And restore to us, Buthayna, the bygone time!
And might we again be blest as we wont to be,
When thy folk were nigh and grudged what thou gavest me!

Shall I ever meet Buthayna alone again,
Each of us full of love as a cloud of rain?
Fast in her net was I when a lad, and till
This day my love is growing and waxing still.

I have spent my lifetime, waiting for her to speak,
And the bloom of youth is faded from off my cheek;
But I will not suffer that she my suit deny,
My love remains undying, though all things die!"[453]

[Sidenote: Poetry in the provinces.]

The names of al-Akhṭal, al-Farazdaq, and Jarír stand out pre-eminently in the list of Umayyad poets. They were men of a very different stamp from the languishing Minnesingers and carpet-knights who, like Jamíl, refused to battle except on the field of love. It is noteworthy that all three were born and bred in Mesopotamia. The motherland was exhausted; her ambitious and enterprising youth poured into the provinces, which now become the main centres of intellectual activity.

[Sidenote: The _Naqá’iḍ_ of Jarír and Farazdaq.]

[Sidenote: General interest in poetry.]