The Book of the Dervishes

From Idries Shah's THE SUFIS (1964)
THE BOOK OF THE DERVISHES

"If you know not these states, pass on, nor join the infidel in ignorant counterfeit . . . but all learn not the secrets of the Way." (Shabistari, Secret Garden, Johnson Pasha's version)

If there is any standard dervish textbook it is the "Gifts of (Deep) Knowledge"-- the Awarif el-Maarif -- written in the thirteenth century and studied by members of all Orders. Its author, Sheikh Shahabudin Suhrawardi (1145-c.1235) presided over the coalescing of theory, ritual and practice which took place in his time, established teaching schools close to the courts of Persia and India, and was Chief of the Chiefs of Sufis in Baghdad.

The book is of interest to us both because it shows the outward and early stages of attraction into the dervish corpus, because it contains the basic contents of thought and action of these mystics, and because of Lieutenant Colonel Wilberforce Clarke. Colonel Clarke was himself a dervish, probably of the Suhrawardi Order. He translated more than half of the Gifts, for the first time, into English, and published it in 1891... 

This admirable recension of essential parts of the Gifts begins in substance with the character of the Sheikh-- the Guide of the dervish. As far as the disciple is concerned, his first real step in his new life is the finding of such a person. The function of this director is to remove the rust, in the Sufi phrase, from the mind, so that eternal (objective) fact may be accessible to him. In a manner which adequately anticipates modern psychology, the Gifts early stresses the need for the Guide to be free from subjective reasons for seeking leadership. He must not seek precedence, being a Guide, or have a desire to be followed. The true leader will delay accepting applicants as disciples until he is sure that he has no such subjectivity.

The Guide must be able to determine the capacity of the disciple. He will have to deal with this disciple in accordance with his potentiality. If there is little promise, he will have to use severe methods, such as admonishment. He orders him to follow certain attitudes of mind in order to change his unbalanced concentration upon certain things.

Unless be has this perception, the Sheikh cannot be a Guide at all.

The Guide must have no desire for, nor part in, any of the property of the disciple. He can only accept material things from a disciple when he is impelled to use them for the common good. When a disciple wants to bestow his property on the Sheikh, the dervish teacher may take it, because he is able to exchange it for the tranquillity which the disciple needs. But if the disciple is still attached to property, he will be allowed to spend some.

The encouragement of the sincerity of the disciple is one of the major concerns of the Sheikh; as also the severing of undesirable attachments of mind. An important part of this activity is charity and distribution of material substance. The disciple should choose poverty rather than riches, though to the Sufi, poverty and riches are as one.

The Sheikh has to extend kindness and compassion. He abridges the austerities of the disciple as far as is possible within the needs of the work. Too strong privations may prevent the disciple from integrating himself with the dervish effort at first.

The effect upon the disciple of what the Sheikh says is a most important one. It is likened to a seed, and only from good seed can a good crop be raised. Pollution in the mind of the learner can stem from the Sheikh having a desire to influence the hearer, or any pride in himself. The Sheikh does not talk to a disciple without an objective reason. "Objective speech is when it means the same to the speaker as to the hearer."

Advice is given to disciples in a disguised or allegorical form, especially when it is a criticism. The inner development of the disciple is something which the Guide keeps secret. Expectation of developments on the part of the former is undesirable, and the Sheikh will explain that anticipation of certain states of mind will close the road to them.

The disciple must honor the Sheikh deeply. There in lies his hope. But, conversely, the Sheikh must not expect honored by the disciple. The rights of the disciple are always respected by the Sheikh.

The teaching Sheikh does not spend much of his time in association with the community. He allots times for retirements and movements (khilwat and jilwat). The teacher has his own special exercises. These are personal, for himself and others, and for devotion to the activity. He has to practice detachment from people as such.

He also engages in special acts of devotion and benevolence, in various forms, including religious ones.

Clarke now places the section dealing with the duties of the disciple or learner (the Directed One) after the functions of the Sheikh.... The first important point stressed is the necessity of the teacher to the disciple. The teacher's acceptance is the nearest thing to divine acceptance, and represents it as far as it can. The disciple's right to Sheikhly guidance is in part gained by a correct attitude toward his teacher. The Sheikh has this right of being honored. The disciple observes fifteen Rules of Conduct:

He must repose complete faith in his Guide in instructing, directing and purifying disciples

He must attend the teacher carefully and closely.

He is obedient to the Sheikh.

He abandons opposition, outwardly and inwardly.

He accords his will with the will of the Director.

He observes the thoughts of the Sheikh.

He refers his dreams to the Sheikh for diagnosis of his thoughts.

He is expectant of the words of the teacher.

He lowers his voice before the Sheikh.

He does not allow his selfishness to extend at large.

He addresses his teacher as O Sayed (prince) or O Maula (master).

He addresses his teacher with observance of the convenience of the time.

He must not speak of stages of mind and experience which are not his own; neither must he speak much to the teacher of his own stage.

He must conceal the miracles of the teacher of which he may learn.

He must reveal to the Sheikh his own experiences.

He speaks to the Sheikh in a manner which the Sheikh will understand.

... It is often the case that such an assembly of dervishes has no teacher among them. If this is the case, they are handicapped. They are able only to prepare themselves for the association of a master. They cultivate trust and patience and contemplation. They must eat together, so that they be associated outwardly as well as inwardly. They have to strive at all times to be not only in agreement with each other, but also in a state of complete equality, one with the other. No hierarchical organization or leadership is possible to them.

Travel, both physically and metaphorically, can be an important part of dervish activity. The dervish travels in his own land (internally) and also through the countryside and from land to land (externally). Some Sheikhs spend no more than forty days in one place. "On dead skins, by tanning, the effects of purity, of softness, and of delicacy of texture appear; even so, by the tanning of travel, and by the departure of natural corruption and innate roughness, appears the purifying softness of devotion and change from obstinacy to faith." Yet dervishes may not travel at all.

There are detailed programs for travel and the way in which its experience is utilized by the dervish. These are generally known as the Twelve Rules of Travel.

The "dance" of the dervishes, the subject of so much misinterpretation, is divided into audition and movement. The real dervish is not a musician, in the sense that he does not actually play instruments. Outside musicians or servers may do so. The Islamic authorities, "outward sages," deny the permissibility of these activities, but they are permitted and encouraged in special circumstances and in accordance with needs by dervish saints and spiritual directors. There are grave disadvantages, amounting to complete negation of the "work," inherent in the use of music and movement without an inner perception of what these are. Especially deleterious is any movement made during the audition of music, contrary to the custom when hearing music in a more lay situation, when movement is expected...

The remainder of the material presented by Clarke is best considered theoretical mixed with initiatory doctrine. The complexity is increased by the fact that many of the stages and experiences are conditional upon several factors. Sufism not being a static or simple proceeding, trying to freeze any stage can cause serious generalization and consequent distortion. For this reason the material is to be seen as primarily illustrative, yet not without internal motion.

Knowledge is represented in the dervish codex, as in current and ancient usage, as knowledge in general. The divisions of knowledge, and its gradation, are the subject of important Sufi "work," because each stage in the journey is characterized by its appropriate knowledge. The general assumption that knowledge can be divided into two sorts information and experience-- is not accepted by Sufis.

There are two forms, for instance, of aql, intelligence-- the intelligence of the ordinary man, and that of the religious one. The first is fit for this world and its affairs, the latter for the next world. This is characterized by guidance, sometimes referred to as illumination.

Then there is ordinary knowledge, contrasted with inner, or deep knowledge. The first may be characterized by piety, the latter by perception of the workings of a divine activity. There is another form of knowledge, that of the theologist, which deals in such things as commands and prohibitions .

These knowledges are pursued by three kinds of sages. The first is the sage of God, who has the three knowledges. The second kind of sage is he who contains the wisdom of the next world. The third path is that of the sage of this world. He knows only the outward forms of devotion.

The real knowledge is a kind of nutrition, like food. Deep knowledge (maarifat) is characterized by three subordinate forms of knowledge. The first is the wisdom of how each word or agent acts. The second is the recognition of each agent in the "work." The third is the recognition of the agent through thought. The man who recognizes instantaneously the meanings of happenings and actions, without ordinary reflection, is the arif, the Wise, the "arrived" Sufi, or the Mature One.

There are forms of understanding and reunderstanding knowledge.

These are described as: The Science of Inner Wisdom;

The Wisdom of Science;

The Science of the Wisdom of Wisdom.

These are the simplest terms in which the succession of refinements of knowledge and wisdom can be rendered.

The so-called mystical state (hal), and its relationship with the stage of the traveler, is the subject of the next section dealt with by Clarke.

The mystical experience, which in other systems is considered to be the be-all and end-all of the quest, is for the dervish nothing more than a prelude to the attainment of true association with objective reality. The way in which it is received and in which an interaction between it and the receptor takes place will determine whether it is producing a valid progress.

This is a most important consideration, because it sharply divides Sufism from all other so-called mysticisms, whether induced by drugs, or any other ecstatogenic cause.

"Stage" (makam) is the degree of permanent knowledge of truth (objectivity) which has been attained. Ecstasy, therefore, is or can be the instrument for the establishment of makam.

"The hal is a gift; the makam is an acquisition."

And the mystical state, according to the Sheikhs of Khorasan, "is the heritage of deeds. Like lightning it appeareth, and effaced becometh." Its manifestation is followed by concealment. It is transmuted, or transmutes the consciousness, providing contentment (riza). It is necessary to beware of the idea of progression or chronological development in these states, and Junaid has warned against this. He says: "From one hal one may advance to a higher one. From there he gains information wherewith he can amend his first state."

There is a ratification of each state, which makes possible advance to another, and also makes possible the permanency of progress, of stage. Without a certain methodology, state (hal) is sporadic and repetitious, useless.

The dervish conception of the nature of God is now given, although it appears in the original almost at the beginning of the textbook.

The Sufi does not worship anything but God, the Unique, One.

At the same time, the nature of God as understood by the Sufi is not susceptible to enunciation in the crude words which serve for other purposes. God's abode, for instance, is not where God is. The answer to the question is "He." He is in the time of "He." He made things resemble and suffice by means of"He."

There is no possibility of arguing the existence or place of God, because God is not susceptible to the criteria which are available.

This knowledge is the product of what is called certitude (yakina), which has a modus operandi of its own, not an intellectual one. Therefore Sufism has its own science whereby it approaches the question. This science relies upon practice, not speculation.

Dealing with matters which are generally termed "of the next world," the book stresses the dangers of assumption that this form of being will be something which we can conceive within the coarse perceptions which we habitually employ for crude measurement.

Attempts to reason out the relationship between the familiar and the concept of the next world will end in loss. When reason passes beyond its own limits, error results. Similarly, there is a limit to the efficient working of imagination and fancy. The imaginary picture evoked by the name of a person not so far seen may or may not approximate to the reality.

Two main forces are used by those who have no insight, to combat those who have. The first force is that of the Men of Power, who kill, punish and harm. The second is that of the People of Learning, who use deceit, hypocrisy and heresy.

"Steadiness" is a technical term which is associated with remaining steadfast, conscious of the presence of God, considering that God is watching. This causes awareness of oneself and what one is and what doing. In this condition the worshiper maintains an outward and inward adornment of rules. The inward knowledge on the basis of which this is done is called contemplation, watching (muraqiba). Those who are in this stage say, "Yesterday is dead; tomorrow is not born; today is in the agonies of death."

Those concentrating upon exercises connected with the past or the future are in a state of destruction. `The safety and the salvation of the people is in their being engaged in the ordinance of the time."

One of the specialist Sufic sciences is called the Science of State (Ilm-i-hal). The usage of this science varies in accordance with the capacities of the practitioners. There is no Sufi science greater than this, because it is the methodology whereby the gradations of hal are observed and applied. The science involves the interaction of states of mind and their relation to the physical happenings in the surroundings.

The Science of Certainty is the revelation of truth (objective reality) through special states by experience, not by cerebration as we understand it in the conventional world

There are three phases of the Science (practice and perception) of Certainty, allegorized by calling the Sun objectivity: The first, seeking guidance from the splendor and understanding of the heat of the Sun. The second, by actually seeing the body of the Sun. The third, the dispersing of the eyes' light in the light of the Sun itself.

There are three stages of "certainty," then, which Suhrawardi summarizes as: The Knowledge of Certitude, in which it is known, verified and evident; The Essence of Certainty, manifest and witnessed; The Truth (Reality) of Certainty, a double way in which there is a conjoining of the witnesser and witnessed. Beyond this point words do not suffice, and the dervish is accused of pantheism and more. An attempt at explaining produces the word sequence, "The seer becometh the eye, the eye, the seer." A distortion of meaning, originating from the attempt to enunciate the process in formal terms, is perpetuated by the reader, who cannot penetrate by the unaided intellect the real significance of the phrase.

The doctrine of essence, and its connection with the personality and the self, is a most important part of dervish study. There are, for illustrative purposes, two kinds of essence: The first is the essence of a thing, which is the inner essence (dhat) and the truth (hakikat) of that thing. Truth here means objective reality, the inner meaning. People normally see or perceive only the outward use of a thing, are ignorant of any ultimate function of that thing. A lamp, for example, gives light. It may be used for heating, or for decoration. But other functions of its true reality are imperceptible to the ordinary man. If, by a stretch of imagination, it were found through delicate scientific measurement that the lamp was giving off certain communication rays, this activity might be the expression of the true reality or essence of that lamp.

Then there is the human essence, called the rational essence (the human spirit) which is known as the "luminosity." This is the sum total of the grace (baraka, impalpable qualities) of the individual.

The perceiving of the operation and being of these elements is an extremely sensitive one. True, inner knowledge of the essence is hinted at in the religious life. Hence: "Hints as to the knowledge of essence are found in the links and conditions of the knowledge of God."

This assertion shows how all dervish teaching is based not on the concept of God, but on the concept of essence. There is a slogan which summarizes this, and which clearly establishes that the religious context of dervish thinking is merely the vehicle for the self-realization which is aimed at: "He who knows his essential self, knows his God." Knowledge of the essential self is the first step, before which there is no real knowledge of religion. Sufis are accused of paganism because they first apply themselves to this problem, retaining the religious context as a practical working shape, rather than as any indication of final and objective truth.

The means of appreciating the various stages and conditions of the essence and its progressive refinement are themselves an essential part of dervish activity. It is here that the dervish parts company with the mere theoretician. The latter says: "I will think this out;" the dervish: "I will prepare myself to perceive this, without using limited, obstructive thought, a childish process."

The "veiling" or interruption of the correct use of the human spirit (essence) is caused by an unbalanced indulgence in certain coarse sentiments which together constitute a pattern of imprisonment (conditioning) characteristic of most people. These "veils" or `blameable qualities" are listed as ten:

1. Desire. Desires based on ignorance of what should be, and on assumptions as to what is good for the individual. Austerity, correctly used, is the antidote to irrational desire . This is the stage of "I want a lollipop."

2. Separation. This is a type of hypocrisy, when the person uses rationalization to justify thoughts and actions which are centered upon himself, not upon an ultimate reality. The antidote is the practice of sincerity.

3. Hypocrisy. Characterized by self-pride, glorying in possessions, pseudoindependence, violence. This is overcome only by the practice of qualities which are reprehensible in the eyes of the people, but laudable in God's sight. They include submission of the right kind, humility and the poverty of the Fakir. These qualities are recognized only by correct assessment of the true worth of their opposites.

4. Desire for Praise and Love. Narcissism, which precludes objective assessment of oneself; lack of a balancing factor which amounts almost to self-contempt.

5. Illusions of almost divine importance. Countered only by the glory of the qualities of God.

6. Avarice and Parsimony. Give rise to envy, the worst of all characteristics. This can be dissolved only when the power of certainty (yakina) comes.

7. Greed and the desire for more. This is dangerous because it causes the person to be like the moth, insensately dashing itself against the candle flame. It is countered only by austerity and piety.

8. Irresponsibility. This is manifested by the desire to attain something which has been conceived in the mind. It is always in motion, like a globe continually turning. It can be made to depart only by patience.

9. Haste to Fatigue. This is lack of constancy of purpose, in its usual manifestation. This is what prevents people from realizing that there is a succession of objectives which will replace present, crude ones. "From this calamity it is impossible to escape save by the establishing of the ordered thanks." Exercises are employed to overcome this tendency.

10. Negligence. Slothfulness of a deep kind is shown by lack of awareness of the needs of a situation or an individual. Alertness is cultivated through remedies applied by the "Physicians of the Essence"-- the dervishes.

It will be noted that ordinary, contemporary psychotherapy attempts the treatment of some of these conditions, but only in order to guide the mind into a pattern which the psychological doctrine assumes is normal. According to the dervish, the conditions which have to be treated are due to an unharmonious state of the mind, groping for balance and evolution. It is impossible, from this point of view, to attempt to restore a mere equilibrium without a dynamic forward movement. The psychologist tries to make a warped wheel turn smoothly. The dervish is trying to make the wheel turn in order that it may propel a carriage.

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There are successive rarefications of true reality, each one appearing as absolute in its own field of perceptivity. "Breath is the result of spirit, spirit of order."

The angels, as other dervish teachers have stressed, are the higher developments of the mind. Some are spoken of here as being of the nature of jamal (beauty), others of the nature of jalal (grandeur).

The doctrine of "collection and dispersion" (jam' and tafrika) as expounded in this section deals with the relationship between life in the world and life in other dimensions. The Knower, the Complete Sufi, is in the world, yet not of it. He is in a state of correct harmony with the continuum of which apparent existence is only a minor portion. He is aligned with the body and the non-body, as they must be represented in ordinary exposition. He understands the modalities which give rise to the belief in the existence of creation and the absolute which underlies it.

"Shining and concealment" are the twin terms which deal with the manifestation and lack of perception of God in humanity. "Shining" means the breaking through of the sun of the reality of God from the clouds of humanity. The clouds are the aspect of hiddenness of this objectivity.

The famous romance of Majnun ("the madman") and Layla is used to allegorize the power of the "shining" and the inability of the traveler (madman) to sustain the brilliance of that shining without having passed through a necessary preparation. The tribe of the madman interceded with some of the people of Layla, asking that Majnun be allowed to be illuminated with the "sight of Layla's beauty."

Layla's tribe replied that there was no harm in this: "but Majnun hath not the power of beholding Layla's beauty." They brought the madman, and for him lifted a corner of Layla's tent. "Immediately his glance fell on the fold of Layla's skirt-senseless he fell."

Illumination cannot be sustained by someone who is not ready for it. At the best it will throw him into an ecstatic state in which he is paralyzed, as it were, and unable to consummate the contact. This is why, although dervish poets speak of being "mad for love," they emphasize that this madness is the result of preview, not of genuine experience. It is recognized that genuine experience must take an active, mutual, meaningful form, not a form of useless intoxication .

Inebriation mystics are those who stop short at this stage, and try to reproduce the experience repetitiously, or approximate them on paper or in emotional art. This is the stage at which much experimentation in mysticism becomes bogged down.

"Rapture" (wajd) and "existence" (wujud) refer to two states of which the first is the prelude to the second (Junaid). In rapture, the individual is immersed in a sensation which is opposite to the one which he formerly felt. He also becomes attuned to a form of cognition other than that to which he is accustomed. A person experiences this state when he is still at the stage when he is primitively linked with sensual qualities and has little understanding of any deeper perspective to them.

Existence is the name given to the state of "acquisition," when real existence, as opposed to simple physical existence, is perceived by the devotee.

"Period" and "moment" are two concepts which are associated with a moment of perception on contact, a momentary cognition, the instrument of fashioning further states of being. Several other concepts and exercises are associated with these two. One such is the exercise of the freezing of movement, temporarily stopping ordinary associative processes. Another is the use of the Pause of Time, and the Pause of Space, which enable the operation of constructive "time" to take place.

A Complete Sufi may be called a Master of Time, meaning master of starting and stopping, of modifying cognition. The individual who can operate in this sphere is called (by the sage Shibli) one who has o of escaped from being under the sway of hal., the mystical state of rapturous but but generalized joy.

Moment is the term given also to "breath." It stands for the physical exercises connected with breathing, and also for the illustration of the fact that Sufi development is a succession, like the pulsation of breath, not a static condition or irregular motion.

Thus: "Moment is a state in a place of 'stopping.' Breath is a state free from 'stopping.' 'Time' is for the beginner. Breath is for the finisher, completer."

"Presence" and "absence" (shuhud and ghaybat) terms which connote states of Sufihood which may be quite imperceptible to the ordinary man or woman. The dervish may be present as far as the invisible world is concerned, yet absent as far as the familiar one is concerned...

Shibli went to visit another great sage, Junaid. The wife of the latter was about to conceal herself modestly behind a screen. Junaid said, "Stay where you are-- Shibli is absent ." At that moment, Shibli began to weep. Junaid said, "You must now be absent, for Shibli has returned." Being absent or hidden means that the dervish is working in another dimension, and appears to be absent.

This is not the same as absentmindedness, which is not itself a constructive or positive state. Junaid's wife could not see Shibli's absentness; Junaid had to perceive it. Similarly, the ordinary man denies even the possibility of such a state, because he cannot perceive it. For him, is is not only absent, but hidden, concealed, like the concealment of Shibli.

Presence, of course, is another variety of absence, depending upon the point of view: "Present with God is absent to men." Some dervishes alternate between this polarity, perhaps slowly, perhaps instantaneously. When the complete alchemicalization has taken place, there is no duality. They are constantly in the state of presence, and they are not hidden from either world.

The methodology of the dervishes includes the use of exercises designed to produce tajrid (outward detachment) and tafrid (interior solitude). The correct balance of integration of the special faculties can be attained by "outwardly abandoning the desires of this world, and inwardly rejecting the compensation of the next world and of this world." This is tajrid.

Tafrid is not essential to tajrid. But it is associated with it, or may be so. It involves the "rejecting of the increase of deeds of himself, and the concealing of their appearance by regarding on himself God's favor and bounty."

This method illuminates the developmental shortcomings in ordinary religion, which focuses the attention upon the next world. This, for the dervish, is a primary stage, which has to be shed when the time of actual amal (labor) starts.

The obliteration and confirming of the slave's existence is the interpretation of the twin words mahw (obliteration) and isbat (confirmation). This schematic representation of an aspect of dervish being is widely misunderstood by laymen. Every obliteration is a confirmation-- obliteration of undesirable or negative qualities produces the activation of equal and opposite positive qualities. Superficial conjecture has labeled this theory and its processes as a negation of the intellect or mind of the dervish. By default, because dervishes are working and not theorizing or concerned with exegesis, this label has adhered to the words.

"Change" (talwin) and "rest" (tamkin) refer to attitudes of mind and body, as well as inner conditions. Rest is the term used for the permanency of manifestation of Truth. In this condition the dervish experiences a permanent tranquillity of heart which enables him to perceive true reality, or objective fact, generally called Truth.

Change is the exercise and also the condition of tranquillity of the heart, by the pursuance of exercises of presence and absence, as already noted, and other procedures...

Love is the great theme which runs through the ocean of Sufi poetry and the personal teachings of the masters alike. Love is essentially the creator of states of experience, which are themselves referred to as "gifts." There are two general forms of love-- Ordinary Love and Special Love. Those who have not followed the developments possible in this field of the Sufis constantly confuse the one with the other, in a blurring alternation which deceives their perception. Such people make, for instance, serious errors in assessment of individuals, groups and situations. Aware of this, they generally are at pains to try to retrieve their mistakes subsequently (rationalization), and in consequence may appear absurd to those who observe them, whether initiates or otherwise. Self-deception is a symptom of this form of love, whose sincerity is not questioned. Its quality is, however, subject to fluctuations imperceptible to the individual.

The comparisons between Ordinary and Special Love are listed. A perception of baraka (impalpable beauty, grace) in the form or apparent being of a thing is a quality of Ordinary Love. When this becomes profound (Special) love, it is transmuted into the self's inclination to viewing the beauty of the essence (dhat)-- not the form. The effect of love is shown by contrasting love which beautifies existence (Ordinary Love) with love which refines existence (Special Love).

Real love, of the essential type, is not general but specific. It may observe beauty in all forms, but its attention is actually directed upon the essence which is the only love in a final sense. A person does not love in this sense if his love is capable of distraction. This is illustrated by a tale:

A man once met a beautiful woman. He revealed his love to her. She said, "Beside me is one who is more beautiful than I, and more perfect in beauty. She is my sister." He looked to see this woman. Then the first one said : "Boaster! When I saw you from afar, I thought that you were a wise man. When you came near, I thought that you were a lover. Now I know that you are neither."

The wisdom of the dervishes portrays a characteristic of love which is so rare as to be almost unconceived by the rest of humanity. The lover thinks greatly of even slight regard from his beloved. But of his own regard for her, he thinks little. Seen in this light, the feelings of Ordinary Love reflect egocentricity.

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This particular work is suited to exposition outside its nominal cultural pattern partly because it is itself the product of a school which interlaces, crossing and recrossing the traditional Sufic stream over the centuries during which the dervish format has been familiarly overt. This interplay is important, because it shows how the Sufic stream meets, blends and recombines in a manner which superficial observation of the dervish orders would not expect.