From Idries Shah's THE SUFIS (1964):
THE DERVISH ORDERS
Something of the atmosphere in a dervish Order's school can be felt by this statement, which is a verbatim extract from a preliminary discourse by Sheikh el-Mushaikh (Sheikhly Sheikh), addressing a number of candidates for admission to the Azamia (Greater) Order recently: "The object of the Sufis is to refine themselves to such an extent that they attain the irradiation [anwar] of what we call the several attributes of God, or Beautiful Names. No Sufi can become a part of the 'texture of God' by such an ultimate refinement. Yet only by getting rid of his material slough can he enliven his true essence, which can be called the soul [ruh]. "In [Sanai's Walled Garden of Truth] he shows that the superficial perception of religion is inaccurate, so that when I speak of God and Soul and so on, you will have to remember that these are things, as Ibn El Arabi stresses, which have no correct parallel to you, and which have to be perceived, not merely named and associated with emotionalism...
"To continue. Inasmuch as the accretions weigh down the inner spark [ruh] of the Seeker and thus prevent his progress toward completeness, for the scaling off of these accretions certain exercises have to be performed. They have to be in accordance with the needs of the Seeker. Exactly how this is done is dependent upon the action and knowledge of a Special Guide [murshid or pir, Guided One or Ancient, Wise One]. Some have the impression that this enlightenment can be attained by a Seeker (salik) by reading books on Sufism, and by practices of his own. This is neither theoretically sound nor borne out by experience, quite apart from our inner cognition of its falsity. A Guide is absolutely essential. "Certain terms have to be noted. Nafs in Sufic terminology is both ego and 'breath.' How the word is used is important and comes through attention to its use in actual fact, not by a study of dictionaries. It is often said that the nafs-i-ammara (Commanding Self) has to be subdued. This may mean that certain cravings and physical and mental attitudes have to be seen for what they are and treated accordingly. In this usage, the word is seen to mean self or ego. In another usage, it simply means breath . For example, in the exercise known as habs-i-dam it means 'imprisoning the breath,' under the strict supervision of a Guide, who uses this exercise for a specific and limited purpose.
"The word bayat means taking the pledge, pact engagement or undertaking, and it signifies the occasion when the Seeker places his hands between those of the Spiritual Guide for the dual pledge. One, on his part, binds himself to seek the Way indicated by the Guide. The other, on his own part, undertakes to guide the Seeker on the Path. This is a special, solemn, meaningful moment. There is a dual mutual interaction in the pledge; a contractual relationship is formalized by it. It is at this juncture that the may be allowed to call himself murid (disciple), Direrected One. "The term muragiba covers forms of concentration. In it the disciple strives to remove certain thoughts from his mind and concentrate upon things which will make possible his illumination and lay a basis for his permanency. The term also corresponds with sitting with the head down, chin on knee, the correct Sufi posture.
"The word zikr (dhikr in Arabic) literally means repetition or recital. It conveys the action of the disciple repeating as many times as directed that which he has been given to repeat. It is also, in another sense, called wird.
"The technical term tajalli, luminizing, and the word nur (light-plural: anwar) are both associated with process of activating which is carried out on the way toward independent reality through the force contained in the power of Love. In this we work with the Beautiful Names. Generally considered to be ninety-nine in number, corresponding to the number of beads on a Sufi rosary, they are in another sense limitless. In active 'work' they are limited at first to the names or concepts which are needed to help activate the special organs of perception and communication.
'There is no point at all in activating special new organs of perception and communication unless the individual at the same time is able to keep up with the realization of what is being communicated, to whom, and why. The improvement of communication in itself is best limited to spheres where it belongs--among intellectuals who assume that they have something to communicate. For the rest of us, present methods are adequate to ordinary purposes. "The word qalb (heart) may be considered an anatomical localization of the organ which has to be awakened. Its position is where the pulsation of the physical heart is normally to be determined on the left breast. In Sufi belief and action, this organ is considered to be the seat of the main, initial inner perceptiveness involved in the `search' `work.'
"The total illumination of this and certain other organs precedes the walayat-i-Kubra (major saintship), which is the goal of the Sufi and which corresponds, in other systems, with illumination. At this stage there are certain powers available, powers which seemingly control natural phenomena. It must be remembered that miraculous powers belong to a sphere in which they are coherent and meaningful and cannot be examined from the viewpoint of the sensation monger.
"The unification which the Sufi attains is termed fana (annihilation). Self-mortification is not permitted, and the proper physical upkeep of the body is essential.
"Before the exercises can take place, either the Greater Balance or the Lesser Balance must have been achieved by the candidate. This balance is connected with the fact that ordinary humanity is not able, except for very short periods, to concentrate at all. Rumi, in Fihi Ma Fihi, stresses this, a matter of first importance in any teaching situation:
"'Innumerable changes of mood are yours, and they are uncontrolled by you. If you knew their origin, you would be able to dominate them. If you cannot localize your own changes, how can you localize that which farmed you?' A great deal of Sufi poetry, in addition to its formal content, refers to degrees of wholeness or ability to concentrate the mind and as a result find a way to the place where truth is not fragmented. When Shabistari in the Secret Garden speaks of a spark being whirled and giving a mere illusion that it is constituting a circle of light, he is speaking of a Sufi experience, known to all dervishes, of a certain stage of 'collection.'" *********** The dervish belief, as affirmed in the practices of the working Orders (as distinct from repetitiously devout ones which specialize in saint worship), is that there is a special state which has to be activated. This is not emotional, certainly not intellectual as ordinarily experienced. The frequent references to refining, purifying and discriminating are connected with this. The dervish refines his consciousness so that he can become aware of states of mind and conditions of reality which are only crudely grasped by the ordinary mind. It might be said that people are normally aware of intellect only in terms of quantity; of emotion as a quantity. The quality, a subtler side which is nonetheless essential to completeness, is difficult to train or elicit, hence abandoned by most people, who make do with very rough approximations of their total capacities.
THE DERVISH ORDERS
Something of the atmosphere in a dervish Order's school can be felt by this statement, which is a verbatim extract from a preliminary discourse by Sheikh el-Mushaikh (Sheikhly Sheikh), addressing a number of candidates for admission to the Azamia (Greater) Order recently: "The object of the Sufis is to refine themselves to such an extent that they attain the irradiation [anwar] of what we call the several attributes of God, or Beautiful Names. No Sufi can become a part of the 'texture of God' by such an ultimate refinement. Yet only by getting rid of his material slough can he enliven his true essence, which can be called the soul [ruh]. "In [Sanai's Walled Garden of Truth] he shows that the superficial perception of religion is inaccurate, so that when I speak of God and Soul and so on, you will have to remember that these are things, as Ibn El Arabi stresses, which have no correct parallel to you, and which have to be perceived, not merely named and associated with emotionalism...
"To continue. Inasmuch as the accretions weigh down the inner spark [ruh] of the Seeker and thus prevent his progress toward completeness, for the scaling off of these accretions certain exercises have to be performed. They have to be in accordance with the needs of the Seeker. Exactly how this is done is dependent upon the action and knowledge of a Special Guide [murshid or pir, Guided One or Ancient, Wise One]. Some have the impression that this enlightenment can be attained by a Seeker (salik) by reading books on Sufism, and by practices of his own. This is neither theoretically sound nor borne out by experience, quite apart from our inner cognition of its falsity. A Guide is absolutely essential. "Certain terms have to be noted. Nafs in Sufic terminology is both ego and 'breath.' How the word is used is important and comes through attention to its use in actual fact, not by a study of dictionaries. It is often said that the nafs-i-ammara (Commanding Self) has to be subdued. This may mean that certain cravings and physical and mental attitudes have to be seen for what they are and treated accordingly. In this usage, the word is seen to mean self or ego. In another usage, it simply means breath . For example, in the exercise known as habs-i-dam it means 'imprisoning the breath,' under the strict supervision of a Guide, who uses this exercise for a specific and limited purpose.
"The word bayat means taking the pledge, pact engagement or undertaking, and it signifies the occasion when the Seeker places his hands between those of the Spiritual Guide for the dual pledge. One, on his part, binds himself to seek the Way indicated by the Guide. The other, on his own part, undertakes to guide the Seeker on the Path. This is a special, solemn, meaningful moment. There is a dual mutual interaction in the pledge; a contractual relationship is formalized by it. It is at this juncture that the may be allowed to call himself murid (disciple), Direrected One. "The term muragiba covers forms of concentration. In it the disciple strives to remove certain thoughts from his mind and concentrate upon things which will make possible his illumination and lay a basis for his permanency. The term also corresponds with sitting with the head down, chin on knee, the correct Sufi posture.
"The word zikr (dhikr in Arabic) literally means repetition or recital. It conveys the action of the disciple repeating as many times as directed that which he has been given to repeat. It is also, in another sense, called wird.
"The technical term tajalli, luminizing, and the word nur (light-plural: anwar) are both associated with process of activating which is carried out on the way toward independent reality through the force contained in the power of Love. In this we work with the Beautiful Names. Generally considered to be ninety-nine in number, corresponding to the number of beads on a Sufi rosary, they are in another sense limitless. In active 'work' they are limited at first to the names or concepts which are needed to help activate the special organs of perception and communication.
'There is no point at all in activating special new organs of perception and communication unless the individual at the same time is able to keep up with the realization of what is being communicated, to whom, and why. The improvement of communication in itself is best limited to spheres where it belongs--among intellectuals who assume that they have something to communicate. For the rest of us, present methods are adequate to ordinary purposes. "The word qalb (heart) may be considered an anatomical localization of the organ which has to be awakened. Its position is where the pulsation of the physical heart is normally to be determined on the left breast. In Sufi belief and action, this organ is considered to be the seat of the main, initial inner perceptiveness involved in the `search' `work.'
"The total illumination of this and certain other organs precedes the walayat-i-Kubra (major saintship), which is the goal of the Sufi and which corresponds, in other systems, with illumination. At this stage there are certain powers available, powers which seemingly control natural phenomena. It must be remembered that miraculous powers belong to a sphere in which they are coherent and meaningful and cannot be examined from the viewpoint of the sensation monger.
"The unification which the Sufi attains is termed fana (annihilation). Self-mortification is not permitted, and the proper physical upkeep of the body is essential.
"Before the exercises can take place, either the Greater Balance or the Lesser Balance must have been achieved by the candidate. This balance is connected with the fact that ordinary humanity is not able, except for very short periods, to concentrate at all. Rumi, in Fihi Ma Fihi, stresses this, a matter of first importance in any teaching situation:
"'Innumerable changes of mood are yours, and they are uncontrolled by you. If you knew their origin, you would be able to dominate them. If you cannot localize your own changes, how can you localize that which farmed you?' A great deal of Sufi poetry, in addition to its formal content, refers to degrees of wholeness or ability to concentrate the mind and as a result find a way to the place where truth is not fragmented. When Shabistari in the Secret Garden speaks of a spark being whirled and giving a mere illusion that it is constituting a circle of light, he is speaking of a Sufi experience, known to all dervishes, of a certain stage of 'collection.'" *********** The dervish belief, as affirmed in the practices of the working Orders (as distinct from repetitiously devout ones which specialize in saint worship), is that there is a special state which has to be activated. This is not emotional, certainly not intellectual as ordinarily experienced. The frequent references to refining, purifying and discriminating are connected with this. The dervish refines his consciousness so that he can become aware of states of mind and conditions of reality which are only crudely grasped by the ordinary mind. It might be said that people are normally aware of intellect only in terms of quantity; of emotion as a quantity. The quality, a subtler side which is nonetheless essential to completeness, is difficult to train or elicit, hence abandoned by most people, who make do with very rough approximations of their total capacities.
And, of course, perception of these infinite subtleties is not possible to the ordinary individual. Just as a child has to learn to distinguish between objects in terms of coarse and fine, so has the unregenerate human perception to be trained in this respect.
The full dynamic of the Organ of Evolution becomes operative only when something akin to detachment has been attained. This happens only when certain educational preparations have been made. Before the stage of conscious development, various indisputable experiences mark certain stages of advance. These give the individual both proof of his progress and strength to continue to the next stage. Unless he receives these illuminations in correct succession, he will stay at a stage of partial awareness or occasional concentration power. One of the least desirable results of such out-of-sequence development is when the candidate is not weaned from dependence upon his instructor.
When what we have called the Organ of Evolution is developed and working, the functions of instinct, emotion and intellect are transmuted and work in a new key. A fresh and ever-widening series of experiences is open to the dervish.
Infinite possibilities and intricate mechanisms are now seen in things which formerly seemed inert or of limited use. A dervish example is found in the teaching reference to the permissibility of listening to music. The great Shibli says: "Hearing music deliberately seems outwardly to be a disruptive thing; internally it is a warning. When the Sign is known, such a person may listen, for he hears the warning. Unless he has the Sign (awakening of the Organ of Evolution), he is submitting himself to the possibility of danger." The sensual nature of music is here referred to, as well as the mere emotional and limited intellectual value of music. These are dangers, both because they may lead to sensuality and because, through producing a taste for the secondary indulgence (music because one enjoys music), it veils the real usefulness of music, which is to develop the consciousness.
This is a sense of music which is not only unknown in the West, but energetically denied by many people in the East. Because of the peculiarities of music, some dervish Orders, especially the powerful and highly adaptable Naqshbandi Order, refuse to employ it.
Also a specialization of dervish schools is the real value of poetry, employed as a mystical exercise. All poetry has several functions. In accordance with its "reality," so will it be meaningful for the Sufi. All Orders allow on theological grounds the hearing of poetry, because Mohammed the Prophet approved of it. He said, "Some poetry is wisdom;" and "Wisdom is like the lost she-camel of the devout. Wherever he finds her, he still has the best right to her ." He actually used an Arab rhyme to assert what is the Sufi theme of a complete reality which is God: "The most true Arab statement is in the rhyme by Labid that `Everything but God is unnecessary, for events change."
When he was asked to comment on poetry, the Prophet replied, "What is good of it is good, and what is bad, is bad." This is the dictum followed by Sufi masters regarding the permissibility of hearing, reading or writing poetry.
But, according to the great teacher Hujwiri, poetry must in its essence be real and true. If there is unreality or untruth in it, it will contaminate the hearer, reader and writer with its faults.
The manner in which poetry is heard, and the ability of the hearer to benefit from it, is important to Sufism. The dervish teachers will not allow that the real essence of poetry can be appreciated by those who are not correctly prepared for its full understanding, however much an individual may believe that he is extracting the whole from hearing a poem.
Hujwiri passes on the dictum from dervish schools that those who are stirred by the hearing of sensual music are those who are hearing in a sense which is not real. Real hearing, of poetry as of music, is of development value, giving a range of experiences far more varied and valuable than fleshly or ecstatic ones. This, however, can only be enunciated in the present context as an assertion. It is not susceptible to verification outside a Sufi circle.
For the Sufi there are four journeys. The first of these is the attainment of the condition known as fana, sometimes translated as "annihilation." This is the stage of unification of the consciousness, in which the Sufi is harmonized with objective reality. It is the production of this condition which is the objective of the dervish Orders. There are three stages after this. Niffari, a great teacher of the tenth century, describes the Four Journeys in his Muwaqif, written in Egypt nearly a thousand years ago. After he has reached the stage of fana, the Sufi passes into the Second journey, in which he truly becomes the Perfect Man by the stabilization of his objective knowledge. This is the stage of baqa, permanency. He is now not a "God-intoxicated man, but a teacher in his own right. He has the title of qutub, magnetic center, "point toward which all turn."
In the Third Journey, the teacher becomes a spiritual director to each kind of person in accordance with that person's individuality. The previous kind of teacher (of the Second Journey) is able to teach only within his own immediate culture or local religion. The third kind of teacher may appear to be many different things to different men. He is operating on many levels. He is not "all things to all men" as part of a deliberate policy. He can, on the other hand, benefit everyone in accordance with that person's potentiality. The teacher of the Second Journey, in contrast, is able to work only with selected individuals.
In the Fourth, and last, journey, the Perfect Man guides others in their transition from what is generally considered to be physical death, to a further stage of development which is invisible to the ordinary person. For the dervish, therefore, the apparent break which takes place at conventional physical death does not exist. A continuous communication and interchange exists between him and the next form of life.
In a dervish community, as in ordinary life, the spiritual attainments of an individual Sufi may not be apparent except to those who are in a position to perceive the emanations of a higher order which truly characterize the dervish...
Although Niffari's book is well known and much studied by scholars, the practical application of his method, and the real use of the technical term waqfat which he uses, is not to be gleaned from reading alone. Although waqfat is associated with the Divine Pause and the Halt exercise which enables a man to break through time and space, it is a highly complex factor which is only roughly indicated by the word used. For example, it also has the quality of a luminosity which removes the darkness caused by multiplicity. Multiplicity is caused by accepting secondary phenomena as primary ones, or differentiation as difference. In the earliest stages of dervish training it is made clear by examples and exercises that when one is, for instance, working with the concept of "fruit," one must not concern oneself with the immense variety of fruit, but with the essential concept.
The dervish schools, whether they exist in a monastery or in a cafe of Western Europe, are essentials to Sufism because it is in the school situation that such materials as those of Niffari are studied and experienced, in accordance with the peculiarities of the student and the needs of the social clime in which he operates. This is why the Sufi development has to take root in a certain way in various societies. It cannot be imported. Neither can the methods of working suited to tenth-century Egypt or Yogic India operate effectively in the West. They can naturalize themselves, but in their own way. The lure of mystery and of the colorful East has for centuries obscured for the Western mind the fact that it is the human development which is aimed at, not the trappings.
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