Voices of Islam (55 page)

What Is Sufism?
261

came to exist in other locations, such as the one around Ibn Khafif in Shiraz, which may have numbered as many as a few hundred devotees. Under Ibn Khafif’s guidance, beginning-level aspirants to Sufism were required to earn a living, dress simply, refrain from eating meat, eat and sleep little, and culti- vate truthfulness (
sidq
) and sincerity (
ikhlas
).
32
A second-generation disciple of Ibn Khafif, Abu Ishaq al-Kazaruni (d. 1033
CE
), created a widespread net- work of lodges centered on his hometown of Kazarun. Kazaruni asked his disciples to acquire and apply knowledge of the Shari‘a, to avoid ostentatious dress and behavior, to keep the company of the poor, the trustworthy (
sadi- qan
), and the virtuous (
salihan
), and to avoid the company of the powerful. These latter included kings, commanders, oppressors, judges and administra- tors, and the worldly (
ahl-i dunya
). His followers were further instructed to not sit with women and beardless youths, to be kind, mild, and modest, and to exercise nobility and generosity. They were not allowed to go to the cemetery to recite the Qur’an for a fee, to overdo charity so as to avoid becoming needy oneself, to accept gifts from commanders and high adminis- trators, to oppress anyone, to keep night prayers, to take an hour every day for invocations, and to serve one’s companions, the poor, and travelers.
33

The local communities that formed around particular Sufi masters did not survive beyond a few generations. It was not long, however, before another kind of community came into existence that proved to have more staying power than the local circle of disciples. This was the ‘‘spiritual lineage,’’ the idea that those who studied under a particular master shared a common spiri- tual heritage in the form of the master’s unique ‘‘path’’ or ‘‘method’’ (
tariq
or
tariqa
). Spiritual lineages were often connected with one another across time and space, and thus united Sufi across the Muslim world into a far- flung spiritual family. From this point, it was but a short step to the idea that all those who shared the same pedigree made up a quasi-familial community. Such spiritual lineages took some time to develop, and the different stages of this development are diffi to document. It is, however, likely that the growing significance of the concept of the spiritual lineage (
silsila
or
nasab
) was bound up with an increasing emphasis, especially during the course of the eleventh century
CE
, on the role of the Sufi shaykh as a ‘‘master of train- ing’’ (
shaykh al-tarbiyya
) as opposed to his role as ‘‘master of instruction’’ (
shaykh al-ta‘lim
).
34

In the first century of Sufi history, instruction (
ta‘lim
) took the form of a shaykh imparting Sufi wisdom in a conversation or in a lecture to a single aspirant (
murid
) or to a circle of aspirants or other interested listeners in meetings held at the shaykh’s house, or more typically, in a mosque. Such instruction, as exemplified by the teachings of Ibn Khafif and Kazaruni, was considered a necessity and was valued highly by serious aspirants, who were expected to follow the example of their shaykhs. By contrast, training (
tar- biyya
) meant spiritual direction: the shaykh took an interest in, and even assumed responsibility for, the spiritual progress of the aspirants, and he

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Voices of Tradition

directed, supervised, and criticized their behavior. It is clear that in this first phase of Sufi history, instruction and training were inextricably intertwined: Sufi masters taught by training and trained by teaching. From the mid- tenth century
CE
on, however, training gradually began to gain an added sig- nifi ce until in the following century when it even became a subject for detailed theoretical discussion.

This new emphasis on training manifested itself in expressions on the sig- nifi ance of obedience to one’s shaykh. In an analogy that became increas- ingly popular, the shaykh was compared to the physician. Hujviri declared, ‘‘The shaykhs of this path [Sufi are the physicians of hearts.’’ If there was any doubt about the status of the Sufi master, this was dispelled by estab- lishing a clear correspondence between him and the Prophet Muhammad: ‘‘The shaykh in his congregation is like the Prophet in his community.’’
35

The new emphasis on teaching and the corresponding elevation of the Sufi master to the position of an awe-inspiring ‘‘spiritual director’’ vis-a`-vis his novices formed the thread with which lasting spiritual lineages were woven around particularly effi acious masters of training. Increasingly, aspirants who were accepted as novices by a shaykh were initiated not only into Sufism but also into a particular lineage held together by bonds of loyalty and devo- tion. Such bonds were extended from the novices and experienced disciples to the master and were reciprocated by bonds of guidance and protection running in the other direction from the master toward his novices and disci- ples. Aspirants to the Sufi way submitted to the authority of the master with complete trust. In return, the master pledged to guide them to their goal and to protect them from hidden dangers on the road of spiritual develop- ment. This ‘‘director–novice’’ relationship (often known as
suhba
) was sol- emnized through formal initiation and graduation ceremonies. Such ceremonies involved elements such as the oath of allegiance (
bay‘a
) and the handclasp during the initial instruction of the formula of invocation, as well as the bestowal of a ‘‘certificate of graduation’’ (
ijaza
) accompanied by a spe- cial insignia, most notably a cloak (
khirqa
) when the novice attained his goal. The rise to prominence of the director–novice relationship led to the forma- tion of extended spiritual lineages, some of which were powerful enough to spawn social communities held together through devotion to a particular master. Perhaps the most visible manifestation of these new spiritual families and the main social locus for the formation of communities around them was the Sufi lodge.

From its tentative beginnings in the first half of the tenth century
CE
, the Sufi lodge grew into a more durable institution. By the time Qushayri com- posed his
Risala
in 1045
CE
, where, among other things, he recorded the growing emphasis on the ‘‘master of training,’’ the lodge had emerged as a social site for the manifestation of the spiritual power of Sufi shaykhs as train- ing masters.
36
Abu Sa‘id-i Abu’l-Khayr (d. 1049
CE
), a contemporary of Qushayri from eastern Iran, appears to be the first Sufi master who explicitly

What Is Sufism?
263

spelled out rules for communal living for his resident disciples. Abu Sa‘id expected the inhabitants of his lodge to follow these rules: (1) to keep clean and ritually pure; (2) to reside only in a place where they can engage in pious works; (3) to perform the ritual prayers together at the beginning of the appointed times; (4) to pray during the night; (5) to pray for forgiveness at dawn; (6) to recite the Qur’an and not to talk until sunrise; (7) to engage in sessions of invocation and litanies (
wird
) between the evening and night prayers; (8) to welcome the needy, the poor, and whoever joins their com- pany and to serve them; (9) to eat only together; (10) not to leave the com- pany of others without their consent. In addition, the residents of Abu Sa‘id’s lodge were asked to spend whatever free time they had only for three purposes: to gain knowledge or to say litanies, to earn a living, or to bring benefi and comfort to others.
37
These rules bear a close resemblance to Ibn Khafif’s and Kazaruni’s recommendations to their aspirants, and similarly do not impose rules of celibacy or the avoidance of gainful employment. Abu Sa‘id also provided two separate lists of 10 qualifi ations that a true master and a sincere disciple, respectively, should possess.
38
With the establishment of lodges as prominent social institutions, Sufi spiritual lineages were slowly but surely being woven into the fabric of the larger societies around them.

The ascendancy of training masters who increasingly came to preside over communities of Sufis that resided in lodges coincided with the rise to promi- nence of saint cults among Muslims. Originally based on the belief in the existence of a divinely appointed company of saints, Muslim saint cults began to take shape during the ninth and tenth centuries
CE
. There is little doubt that they were in full bloom by the eleventh century
CE
, when clear references to this practice began to appear in intellectual life. If, according to Sufi theo- rists, the
awliya’ Allah
were friends and prote´ge´s of God due to their proxim- ity to Him, for the common people the
awliya’
represented direct pathways to God because of this closeness. Having excelled in devotion and service to God, they became intermediaries as well as patrons who functioned as linch- pins in the relationship between God and human beings. In practical terms, the saint cults manifested themselves as an ideological and ritual complex organized around the concept of spiritual power (
baraka
), and the ritualistic performance of visiting tombs and other holy places (
ziyara
).
Baraka
was the holy power inherent in a saintly figure that set him or her apart from everyone else; it was normally conceived as a fluid force that emanated from the saint, alive or dead, and permeated the places, persons, and objects around him, and its ultimate proof was the saintly miracle (
karama
).
39
Ziyara
was a com- plex of rituals that included prayer, supplication, votive offerings, sprinkling fragrances and water, sleeping next to tombs, residing within their confines, circumambulation of them, touching and rubbing them, and taking soil and rocks from them.
40
Through the rituals of visitation, devotees became beneficiaries of the saint’s power. In this sacred transaction, the
awliya’
were perceived as patrons who could intercede in the divine court on behalf of

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Voices of Tradition

their devotees. In all regions, ‘‘the most important criterion of whether a per- son merited the status of sainthood was the manifestation of evidentiary miracles,’’ followed closely by mediation and intercession.
41
Miracles were often perceived as the realization of the saint’s intermediary and intercessory powers; it was through miracles that the saint functioned as a patron and intermediary for his devotees.

Signifi ntly, Muslim saint cults were not simply the social realization of theories of sainthood formulated by mystics. Instead, they developed sepa- rately from, though in conversation with, Sufi theories of sainthood. In this regard, it is important that the
awliya’
most venerated by the people were not necessarily identical with the favorite
awliya’
of the Sufis. Popular saints were not always mystics; conversely, those considered Friends of God by the inner circle of mystics were not always accorded saintly status by the pub- lic. Popular saints included pre-Islamic prophets, the family of the Prophet Muhammad and his descendants, Companions of the Prophet and their fol- lowers, martyrs of early battles and conquests, Shiite Imams, the fi four Caliphs, and Sufis, rulers, scholars, theologians, and even judges.
42
While a high proportion of popular saints of the eleventh and twelfth centuries were learned, and many were acquainted with or actively practiced Sufi Sufi did not have a monopoly over sainthood.
43
Nevertheless, the overlap between the two spheres was significant, and Sufis, along with those learned and proficient in religious matters, made up the majority of saints.

When viewed against the backdrop of the formative history of the saint cults, the ascendancy of the training master as well as the elevation of the authority of the Sufi shaykh to new heights gain new meaning. The rise of the authoritative spiritual director who presided over a community of disci- ples occurred in tandem with the rise of the popular saint, who acted as a patron and an intermediary for the broad community of his devotees. In this way, many training masters came to exercise authority not only over his immediate disciples but also over a much larger community of devotees who relied on him for intercession and intermediation. Through this con- junction of Sufi and popular models of sainthood, Sufi gradually ceased to be a form of piety that appealed almost exclusively to the urban middle and upper-middle classes and began to spread through the whole social can- vas of premodern Islamic societies, from political elites to wage-earners in urban centers to peasants and nomads in the countryside. Sainthood increas- ingly came to be defined almost exclusively in Sufi terms, and Sufi masters began to exercise considerable power in all spheres of social life.

From the twelfth century
CE
onwards when Sufi became mainstream, the Sufi presence in Islamic societies took the form of distinct social group- ings generally known as ‘‘orders’’ (
tariqa,
pl.
turuq
).
44
These were institu- tionalized mappings of spiritual lineages onto the social fabric and appeared as networks of lodges woven around nodes of master–disciple relationships. The lodges were built and maintained primarily by the financial support of

What Is Sufism?
265

local and regional elites that was made available to the Sufi in the form of pious foundations (
waqf
). Since the Sufi masters, who often doubled as popular saints, were frequently buried in their lodges, many Sufi lodges became tomb-shrines and centers for the practice of saint cults. Since the twelfth century
CE
, Sufi orders of local, regional, and international scope have proliferated at an astonishing rate throughout the Muslim world. The most widespread and durable of these have been the Qadiriyya, Kubrawiyya, Shad- hiliyya, Naqshbandiyya, and Khalwatiyya orders, followed by such regional orders as the Chishtiyya in South Asia and the Mevleviye in Anatolia. These orders represent an extremely wide range of Sufi activity at different levels of institutionalization, and they continue to defi Sufi for Muslims in the present day.