Embattled Saints: My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan

Winner of the 2015 Benjamin Franklin Silver Award!

In the West, Islam has replaced Communism as the new bugbear, while Sufism, Islam's mystical dimension, is often dismissed as the delusions of an irrational and backward people. Ken Lizzio corrects such misperceptions in this firsthand account of the year he spent in 1991 living with the head of the Naqshbandis, Afghanistan's largest Sufi order. He presents the order in all its dimensions—social, economic, political, and spiritual—at a pivotal moment in history. He also gives a rare glimpse of everyday life in an Afghan Sufi school and of how the school has coped with the upheavals in its country.

Poignantly, the Naqshbandi way of life faces threats to its very existence. One threat lies in the creeping secularization of Islamic society, another in the dismissal of Sufism by various fundamentalist Islamic sects claiming the franchise on truth. But historically, Lizzio points out, Sufism has always been Islam's wellspring for spiritual revival. And because Sufis deal in matters that transcend time and cultures, they help outsiders understand not only the true nature of Islam, but the deeper meaning of all religions. The sound of that meaning echoes throughout this eloquent and fascinating memoir.

"1116842658"
Embattled Saints: My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan

Winner of the 2015 Benjamin Franklin Silver Award!

In the West, Islam has replaced Communism as the new bugbear, while Sufism, Islam's mystical dimension, is often dismissed as the delusions of an irrational and backward people. Ken Lizzio corrects such misperceptions in this firsthand account of the year he spent in 1991 living with the head of the Naqshbandis, Afghanistan's largest Sufi order. He presents the order in all its dimensions—social, economic, political, and spiritual—at a pivotal moment in history. He also gives a rare glimpse of everyday life in an Afghan Sufi school and of how the school has coped with the upheavals in its country.

Poignantly, the Naqshbandi way of life faces threats to its very existence. One threat lies in the creeping secularization of Islamic society, another in the dismissal of Sufism by various fundamentalist Islamic sects claiming the franchise on truth. But historically, Lizzio points out, Sufism has always been Islam's wellspring for spiritual revival. And because Sufis deal in matters that transcend time and cultures, they help outsiders understand not only the true nature of Islam, but the deeper meaning of all religions. The sound of that meaning echoes throughout this eloquent and fascinating memoir.

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Embattled Saints: My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan

Embattled Saints: My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan

by Kenneth P. Lizzio
Embattled Saints: My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan

Embattled Saints: My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan

by Kenneth P. Lizzio

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Overview

Winner of the 2015 Benjamin Franklin Silver Award!

In the West, Islam has replaced Communism as the new bugbear, while Sufism, Islam's mystical dimension, is often dismissed as the delusions of an irrational and backward people. Ken Lizzio corrects such misperceptions in this firsthand account of the year he spent in 1991 living with the head of the Naqshbandis, Afghanistan's largest Sufi order. He presents the order in all its dimensions—social, economic, political, and spiritual—at a pivotal moment in history. He also gives a rare glimpse of everyday life in an Afghan Sufi school and of how the school has coped with the upheavals in its country.

Poignantly, the Naqshbandi way of life faces threats to its very existence. One threat lies in the creeping secularization of Islamic society, another in the dismissal of Sufism by various fundamentalist Islamic sects claiming the franchise on truth. But historically, Lizzio points out, Sufism has always been Islam's wellspring for spiritual revival. And because Sufis deal in matters that transcend time and cultures, they help outsiders understand not only the true nature of Islam, but the deeper meaning of all religions. The sound of that meaning echoes throughout this eloquent and fascinating memoir.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780835609234
Publisher: Quest Books
Publication date: 04/29/2014
Pages: 288
Product dimensions: 8.80(w) x 5.90(h) x 0.70(d)

About the Author

Kenneth P. Lizzio is a specialist on Islam and holds a Ph.D. in Near Eastern Studies from the University of Arizona. He has taught anthropology at Winthrop and James Madison Universities. An international development specialist as well, he has served as democracy officer for the United States Agency for International Development in Rwanda, Indonesia, Macedonia and Guyana and held other posts in the Middle East and Africa.

Read an Excerpt

Embattled Saints

My Year with the Sufis of Afghanistan


By Kenneth P. Lizzio

Theosophical Publishing House

Copyright © 2014 Kenneth P. Lizzio
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8356-0923-4



CHAPTER 1

Descent


The Naqshbandi order of Sufis, led by Pir Saif ur-Rahman, traces its origin, as do all Sufi orders, through an initiatic chain that reaches back to Islam's founder, the Prophet Muhammad.

The Prophet himself, however, never referred to himself as a Sufi, nor was his teaching explicitly mystical in outlook. In fact, Muhammad's life and the Qur'an were much more oriented to this world than the next. His overarching mission was to create moral order and social cohesion among the warring and polytheist tribes of the Arabian Peninsula. Esoteric matters, after all, speak only to the few.

The message that was revealed to Muhammad emerged from the long monotheistic tradition of the Middle East. Islam, Muhammad said, marked the culmination of a series of religious revelations among Semitic peoples, primarily through Abraham and then Moses, who conveyed the formal law encoded in the Ten Commandments, and Jesus, who encouraged spiritual union with God.

Early followers of Jesus saw no contradiction in both keeping the Judaic law and aspiring to the spiritual union described by the contemplative Christ. The two aspects of their belief formed, for them, an organic whole. Jesus himself had said, "Think not that I have come to destroy the law or the prophets: I came not to destroy, but to fulfill them."

But religion tends to shape rigid identities. By the end of the first century, a gulf had widened between those committed to traditional Jewish practice and those committed to its Christian variant. Gradually, the two faiths separated. It subsequently fell to Muhammad to reunite the law—shari'a—with the spiritual path—tariqa—of mysticism into a single, organic religious system.

At first glance, Muhammad's life evinces far less of the loving mysticism of Jesus and far more of the righteous retribution of the Old Testament. He led his followers into numerous battles against his enemies on the Arabian Peninsula. He was also a businessman who was very much involved in the political and social problems of his time. In contrast to the image projected of the chaste Jesus, he had many wives and led a sensual life.

But there can be no doubt that the Prophet's life had a mystical dimension. Troubled by the immorality and corruption of sixth-century Mecca, he often sought solitude in a ghar, or cave, on Hira, a mountain near Mecca. There he would spend several nights at a time in solitary vigils, meditating and praying. It is an old practice, well established over the centuries by those seeking enlightenment. It was in this cave, at the age of forty, that Muhammad began to experience visions.

The year was 610. In what came to be called Laylat al-Qadr (the Night of Power), the angel Gabriel began to reveal to Muhammad the message that would eventually be gathered up from leaves and bits of paper and assembled into the Qur'an. The Night of Power also marked the descent of the divine spirit into Muhammad. Of that night the Qur'an says:

The Night of Power is better than a thousand months. In it the angels descend, and the Spirit. (97:3–4)


The visions came on abruptly, often accompanied by violent shaking. Sometimes there would be a feeling of pain and a ringing in his ears. Even on the coldest days he would sweat, a sign that he was undergoing unusual experiences. The persistence of these visions over the next twenty-three years, and the inner changes they presumably induced, eventually convinced Muhammad of his prophetic mission.

Muhammad's cave vigils on Hira were, in fact, the beginning of a life marked by austerity and contemplation. His wife 'A'isha, commenting on his nightly meditative states, remarked that "when he slept, his eyes and heart did not sleep." In many of the sayings attributed to him, Muhammad emphasized the importance of such night vigils and prayer.

In moments of mystical rapture Muhammad would sometimes utter cryptically, "I feel the breath of the beneficent from Qaran." Uways al-Qarani was a desert-dwelling mystic from southern Arabia and a contemporary of Muhammad. He and the Prophet never met, yet they appear to have enjoyed a kind of telepathic relationship that seems to have been common among later Sufis, including the Naqshbandis.

Legend has it that Muhammad was able to describe Uways al-Qarani as "a lowly man of middle height and hairy. On his left side there is a white spot, as large as a dirham, which is not from leprosy, and he has a similar spot on the palm of his hand." After Muhammad's death, the first Caliph 'Umar went in search of Uways al-Qarani. In a village called Najd, residents told 'Umar that they knew a man of that name, "a madman who dwells in solitude and associates with no one. He does not eat what men eat, and he feels no joy or sorrow. When others smile, he weeps. And when others weep, he smiles."

The caliph asked to be taken to Uways al-Qarani's place in the desert. When they arrived, Uways was praying. When he had finished, he turned to 'Umar and exclaimed, "The heart of the solitary is one free from thoughts of others." 'Umar then asked to see the white marks on Uways's body, which he displayed. How the Prophet had come to consort spiritually with Uways is a mystery.

Strangely for a man of peace, Uways died in 657 as a result of wounds he sustained while fighting in the battle of Siffin with Muhammad's nephew and son-in-law, 'Ali. But his name did not die with him. Centuries later, Naqshbandis who were initiated by dead spiritual preceptors would call themselves Uwaysi.

If the law-giving character of the Qur'an more closely resembles the Old Testament, then something of the New Testament may be found in the accounts of the actions and sayings of Muhammad collectively called hadith. The hadith include sayings of Muhammad, both about his own nature and about mysticism in general. Some of them allude to Muhammad as the first thing created by God, a luminous spiritual substance from which the world itself was fashioned. Of this Muhammad said, "The first thing that God created was my light which originated from His light and derived from the majesty of His greatness."

Among the thousands of hadith Muslims deem reliable are special ones called hadith qudsi, or sacred hadith. Numbering about one hundred, these hadith present God speaking in the first person. Mystical in tone, many are reminiscent of the utterances of Jesus. For Muslim mystics, hadith such as the following provide a blueprint for those seeking to emulate the path of Muhammad:

My servant draws near to me through nothing I love more than the religious duty I require of him. And my servant continues to draw near to me by supererogatory worship until I love him. When I love him I become the ear by which he hears, the eye by which he sees, the hand by which he grasps, and the foot by which he walks.


Perhaps the most mystical event of Muhammad's religious career was a profound spiritual experience called the "Night Voyage" that occurred just before his historic migration from Mecca to Medina. One evening he was awakened by the angel Gabriel and led to a wondrous buraq, or white-winged ox. Mounting the ox, the Prophet rode to Jerusalem. There, from a large rock—the very rock where the Old Testament tells us Abraham was instructed to sacrifice Isaac—he ascended through the seven heavens to the divine presence. While most Muslims interpret the event literally, for Sufis it is the quintessential metaphor for the spiritual journey to God.

Similarly, Sufis maintain that the Qur'an is not always to be read in a literal sense but needs to be interpreted mystically in order to unlock its hidden knowledge. The idea of esoteric knowledge is found in a Qur'anic episode (18:60–82) recounting Moses's encounter with a mysterious figure, Khidr, "the green one." Moses and his cook were on a journey in search of the fountain of life. When the fish his servant was cooking came miraculously back to life, they realized they had found the spot. There Moses met Khidr, who, we are told, possessed special knowledge.

As Khidr prepared to take his leave, Moses tried to follow him, but Khidr did not allow him to come. Khidr said that Moses would not be able to understand him. But Moses persisted. Finally, Khidr relented, whereupon he performed a series of outrageous acts: damaging a boat, killing a child, and destroying a wall owned by miscreants.

When Moses protested the destructive nature of these acts, Khidr said he was accomplishing three hidden purposes: the fishermen's boat was about to be confiscated, the child would grow up to be a monster, and the wall was intended to hide a buried treasure from the townspeople. "That is the interpretation which you are unable to bear," he told Moses (Qur'an 18:82). Moses, the law-giving prophet, failed to comprehend the meaning of Khidr's actions because they can be known only to those endowed with knowledge of hidden things.

For Sufis, the story underscores the distinction within Islam between the legal, exoteric dimension represented by the clerics and the spiritual, esoteric one of the Sufis. Sufis say the Prophet passed along this secret knowledge only to his closest disciples, the Companions, of whom there were twelve. Referring to this arcane knowledge and the dangers posed by publicly sharing it, one of the Companions remarked, "The Prophet has poured into my heart two kinds of knowledge: one I have spread to the people and the other, if I were to share it, they would cut my throat!"

The "two kinds of knowledge" eventually spawned a tension between their respective custodians—the clerics and the Sufis—that has prevailed throughout the history of Islam. Yet some clerics have also been Sufis, such as Pir Saif ur-Rahman. But since mysticism was not more explicitly defined in Muhammad's life and teachings, Sufis have been harassed and sometimes even killed by other Muslims as heretics, from the earliest times right down to Pir Saif ur-Rahman's own Naqshbandis.

Not long after Muhammad's death, in fact, disputes arose within the fledgling Islamic community as to the precise nature of his message. Some stressed the importance of the law and social norms; others sought to imitate the Prophet's austerity and contemplative nature. The latter were more concerned with inward personal experience, hoping in some measure to repeat in their own lives what Muhammad had experienced on Mt. Hira.

Stressing the inner meaning of the Qur'an and the behavior of the Prophet, they cultivated lives of simplicity and asceticism. They owned few possessions and were clad simply in cloaks of coarse wool (Arabic: suf) that was to give them their name. The cloak, or khirqa, symbolized the time when the Prophet enclosed himself, his son-in-law 'Ali, his daughter Fatima, and their two sons in his own mantle. These ascetics believed the true meaning of Islam lay in the direct experience of divine consciousness gained through acts of selflessness, austerity, and contemplation.

During the first two centuries of Islam, these Muslim ascetics often came into contact with Christian monks and hermits inhabiting remote areas of Syria. Some of these hermits were the remnants of Jesus's original community and were practicing what they believed was the authentic faith of their founder. A close spiritual fellowship developed between the two, and Muslims learned from their Christian counterparts. While there has never been a monastic tradition in Islam as was common among Christians, the earliest Muslim ascetics arranged for cells to be built under their houses where they would periodically take retreat as they had seen Christians do. One Muslim ascetic, the renowned Ibrahim ibn Adham (d. 778), said he had acquired knowledge of God from a Christian hermit, Abba Simeon.

Despite such influences, Sufism would follow uniquely Islamic lines of development. Imitating the relationship between the Prophet and his twelve Companions, allegiance to a shaikh became indispensable for those wishing to travel the spiritual path. Young aspirants would travel far and wide seeking a well-known teacher, supporting himself through labor or alms. Usually, a newly arrived seeker had to perform three years of service before being bestowed with the woolen cloak signifying that he had been accepted as a disciple. The cloaks were usually dyed with indigo, the color symbolizing the mystic's sense of mourning and separation from the world. Later, Sufis would wear cloaks of a particular color to indicate their spiritual station. Cloaks of green, the color of Khidr—and the color worn by Pir Saif ur-Rahman—were considered the highest stage of a mystic.

The shaikh would sit in a corner encircled by his disciples, whom he would instruct. The shaikh considered the disciple to be "his son" and carefully shepherded his spiritual progress. The Iranian founder of one of the Sufi orders, Abu al-Najib al-Suhrawardi (d.1168), explained how a disciple should behave in order to profit from his master's company:

When the sincere disciple enters under obedience of the master, keeping his company and learning the manners, a spiritual state flows from within the master to within the disciple, like one lamp lighting another. The speech of the master inspires the interior of the disciple, so that the master's words become the treasury of spiritual states. The state is transferred from the master to disciple by keeping company [my italics] and hearing speech.


Even before the Sufis began describing themselves as such, a number of Muslim ascetics who laid a foundation for those who followed began to emerge.

Hasan al-Basri was among the first. He was born in Basra, the port city in the southern part of present-day Iraq, about ten years after the death of Muhammad. Basri began life in comfortable surroundings that made it possible for him to become a jewel merchant. After reportedly experiencing a mystical conversion experience filled with visions, Basri condemned the possession of riches and preached self-transcendence and detachment from worldly things:

Not he who dies and is at rest is dead,
He only is dead who is dead while yet alive.


By Hasan al-Basri's time, the wearing of wool had become fashionable among Muslim ascetics, prompting him to caution, "He who wears wool out of humility toward God increases the illumination of his insight and his heart, but he who wears it out of pride and arrogance will be thrust into hell with the devils!"

Despite being forced into hiding for a time for publicly criticizing the repressive policies of a governor, Basri attracted large numbers of disciples during his life, which spanned more than eighty years.

One was a woman named Rabi'a al-'Adawi, who had been sold into slavery as a child after her parents had died. Set free in adulthood by her master, who was deeply moved by her piety, she withdrew to the mountains, where she became a hermit. A broken ewer, a torn reed mat, and a brick she used for a pillow were said to be her only belongings. She spent her time fasting, meditating, and writing poetry. In her poetry she attempted to convey the intense nature of the mystical experience in terms of a lover and the beloved, imagery that would become a permanent feature of Sufi expression:

O Beloved of hearts, I have none like unto Thee,
Therefore have pity this day on the sinner
Who comes to Thee.
O my Hope and my Rest and my Delight,
The heart can love none other than Thee.


Once in the streets of Baghdad, she was asked why she was carrying her ewer full of water in one hand and a lighted torch in the other. She replied, "I want to throw fire into Paradise and pour water into Hell, so that these two veils would disappear, and it becomes clear who worships God out of love, not out of fear of Hell or hope of Paradise."

Evocative though they may have been, such effusive claims of love for and closeness to God were starting to be viewed with increasing suspicion by Muslim clerics. Since the Prophet's death, the clerics had reached a consensus that Muhammad's message stressed God's utter transcendence over man. So unique was God, the clerics contended, that an unbridgeable chasm lay between Him and man. Clerics, who viewed themselves as the rightful interpreters of the law, regarded Sufi claims of mystical union with God as blasphemous.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Embattled Saints by Kenneth P. Lizzio. Copyright © 2014 Kenneth P. Lizzio. Excerpted by permission of Theosophical Publishing House.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Note on Transliteration,
Prologue,
Introduction,
1. Descent,
2. The Naqshbandis,
3. The Making of a Saint,
4. The Khyber,
5. Murshid Abad,
6. Ascent,
7. The Battle for Islamic Tradition,
8. Mubarak Sahib,
Epilogue,
Acknowledgments,
Notes,
Glossary,
Bibliography,

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