How may the entity that is the human be described spiritually? What is one’s duty towards one’s self in terms of self knowledge? What is the consequence of pursuing this duty? What entails this journey of self discovery? From a thorough examination of sources, we may conclude that Knowledge is possible through two spiritual achievements – first distinguishing the Spirit (al-rawh) from the Soul (an-nafs)[1], then understanding the nature of desire, associated with the Soul. Notably, understanding the nature of the Soul as an achievement may very well come naturally once the seeker of Knowledge has differentiated between his Spirit and Soul, given the incredible spiritual depth of the latter.
In fact, distinguishing Spirit from Soul is very easily one of the foundations of Sufi teachings, and has been prescribed several times as a means of traversing the Path. Scholars such as Burckhardt have spent considerable effort analyzing the self composed of Spirit and Soul, in his case to conclude that the former is a transcendent form of intuition (Burckhardt calls this ‘Intelligence’) while the latter is an ego- a bearer of the ‘I’[2]. The intuition’s primary goal, in this case, as well as its natural tendency is the realization of the present world as transitory, and the inclination towards the Truth[3]. It is man’s ‘light’, and his ‘mirror’ as both Ibn Khaldun[4] and Ibn `Arabi[5] had professed. On the other hand, however, man also holds within him the psyche, the Self[6] which is affected by the present world and presents centrifugal individuality and selfishness to man’s heart. In theory, both Spirit and Soul are in constant battle over the heart, the winner succeeding to alter its nature[7]. In the powerful and romantic language for which he is infamous, Jalaluddin Rumi also highlights this schism and battle within man. He recognizes the ‘ego’ as an insatiable hell of fire, swallowing up the Seven Seas and not one bit cooled; the ‘intellect’ as the true human nature, always flying away from this world[8]. More compelling, however, is the following metaphor:
“…this mention of Moses has become a shackle on men's minds -- they think these stories happened long ago... Moses and Pharaoh are in your own existence -- you must seek these two adversaries in yourself…”[9]
This understanding of the story of Moses and Pharoah, that they are really symbols within us, makes Ja’far as-Sadiq’s contention of a transcendent, multi-layered Holy Qur’an very clear. Rumi’s powerful comparison also presents an unavoidable question- what is man’s duty towards the understanding of himself? Should he be seeking to kill the Pharaoh within him? Or simply understand him? Moreover, what will this Knowledge lead to? Man understands his duty towards himself as well as the consequences to sincerely executing this duty through the simple but emotive prophetic tradition: “He who knows himself knows his Lord”[10] . Likewise Al-Ghazzali’s embarks on the first chapter in The Alchemy of Happiness with the opening sentence: “Knowledge of self is the key to knowledge of God.”[11] It is the general belief that through ijtihad an-nafs and through the incessant strife for understanding of oneself that man may finally be able to glimpse his purpose in this world, the essence of the shahada (once he is able to understand the transitory nature of his Self and world), and therefore the fundamental nature of religion. This strife for understanding has been further analyzed by Fariduddin Al-‘Attar (in The Conference of the Birds) and Abu Hamid al-Ghazzalli (in The Alchemy of Happiness).
Particularly we may look at the Valley of Insight into Mystery and the quest for the Simorgh as two instances where themes of Knowledge were prominent. After a long journey, beginning with the quest for God followed by an inextinguishable love for Him[12], the wayfarer finds himself in the Valley of Insight into Mystery that calls for him to investigate, to seek out Truth’s mysteries and persevere. Although never explicitly mentioned, this Valley is ultimately one of introspection, of a metaphorical drowning in gnosis[13] that is the knowledge of one’s self. We may further imply this theme from “Mahmoud and a dervish”, a short anecdote that Attar presents following his description of the Valley. A dervish full of sorrow and regret rudely- after being approached by King Mahmoud- commands the King to leave. In response to his words of insult, the King exclaims: “I am Mahmoud; I suggest that ‘infidel’ is not how I’m addressed!”[14]. To this the dervish goes mad, claiming “O splendid youth, if you knew how far you are from the Truth!” Layers of meaning are within this tale. Primarily the dervish is disgusted at the lack of introspection the statement “I am Mahmoud” seems to reek of – as if the confident, unflinching identification of oneself is indicative of a lack of restless insight into one’s soul. Al-Ghazzali agrees, claiming that, “If thou sayest ‘I know myself’, meaning thy outer shape, body…such knowledge can never be a key to the knowledge of God.”[15] When Mahmoud exclaims that he is not an infidel, the dervish mocks how far he is from the truth. Earlier we have seen the demanding Self being compared to Pharaoh, and it appears that Attar (and the dervish for that matter) seem to use the term ‘infidel’ to describe this Self just as well. With this in mind, the dervish’s mockery of Mahmoud is clearer- the ‘infidel’ is in all of us, yet Mahmoud has not invested the spiritual effort do discover the ‘infidel’ within him (and this evident through his pride), and therefore loses all respect in the dervish’s eyes.
On the other hand the Simorgh, the quest for which the book is centered upon, in the end is divulged to be none other but the thirty birds themselves. They had discovered that the Diety, to whom they had crossed the Valleys and overcome the obstacles of pain, fear, death, audacity, poverty, and even the Self, had turned out to be their very own Spirit – the transcendent reflection of their divine existence. With poetic eloquence and glory Attar describes this moment:
“Their souls rose free of all they’d been before…And in the [sun’s] rays they shone as one. There in the Simorgh’s radiant face they saw themselves, the Simorgh of the world…”[16]
Here we find overwhelming evidence of the importance of the knowledge of oneself and its spiritual implications as a major step on the way to ultimate understanding of God, or even the understanding of piety for that matter. It is the comprehension of one’s nature, particularly the strengthened connection with one’s Spirit, which will be the guiding light and final aim.
Al-Ghazzali’s chapter on the “Knowledge of Self” reverberates our contentions. How is it possible for man to know anything if he does not know himself, asks Al-Ghazzali, and how is it that he may be on the Path while he holds the characteristics of, and is therefore only comparable to, beasts[17]? Al-Ghazzali sees the realm of Knowledge and gnosis both as an aim in itself, and as a means to the Destination. Treading the Path is impossible without this vital piece of armor. At the same time, Al-Ghazzali seems to bring us to the second component of Knowledge – understanding the nature of desire. “In what does they real happiness and misery consist[18]?” When is one genuinely happy? We understand that our passions and desires come from the Self not the Spirit, but if we were to indulge these inclinations, we would lose our association with Angels[19] and forever be haunted by the pleasures of the earth, i.e. pollute the Spirit. The first step in understanding desire is knowing that its cries are really cries of the Devils[20], and that it is of man’s accidental nature, not of his essential one. This nature dies with the body, and it is therefore illogical to pursue its limited interests that may harm the eternal, essential nature. Once this is truly comprehended, the world’s transitory nature grasped in essence, and the nuisance that is the Self fully unveiled, man will let go of his desires and will qualify for Attar’s Valley of Detachment.
For the true ‘mystery’ unmasked at the end of the Valley of Insight into Mystery is the inconsequential nature of this world, and the wayfarer finds himself in the Valley of Detachment. Here, all physical, mental, or emotional lust or need is lost. It truly is the liberty of the mind, a mind that was once dependable on its surroundings for pleasure, always missing the fact that true enlightenment lies within its own understanding. Another short anecdote may be of more clarification to this point: a hungry fly looks at a beehive that appears to hold delicious honey. He says he would offer a grain to contrive and be inside. A passerby took pity and lifted him and the grain to the honey, where he was became physically stuck. He cries in despair, exclaiming that he would now give two grains to regain his freedom, the freedom that he did not know he had.[21] Attar intentionally uses a fly as the main character in his anecdote to convey to the reader a certain message- we, and our aspirations and material dreams, are all very trivial in the grand scheme of things. Our lives and our bodies occupy virtually no space or time, yet many glorify themselves in their worldly aspirations. Secondly, these aspirations and needs are like honey, to which one is stuck and unable to move. We are attracted to its sensually delightful characteristics, and forget the cost of our freedom. The soul, when caught in the honey, is nostalgic of a time when it possessed its liberty and detachment. Our souls, particularly our Spirits, are inclined to only one attachment, that of God, an inclination originating from the day of alastu.[22] When we understand the nature of desire, we satisfy this ultimate inclination.
Our journey through knowledge of the Self and Spirit has shed light on why gnosis remains of the most revered and sought mystical practices, and has brought us to an understanding of it through the eyes of several mystics and scholars. Even though we have explored all but a drop in the sea of Knowledge, we have also established a broad conceptual framework underneath which the subject lies and highlighted its importance in the Islamic faith. Knowledge of the Soul and Spirit, after all, is man’s duty on this earth, a duty synonymous with faith. I have had a personal, emotional response to my research and the writing of this paper. As a child religion and God were never discussed outside the occasional context of duty and Law. Only has this recent journey through Sufism brought color and texture to what I (wrongly) assumed was a rigid and narrow structure that is ad-Din, the Commitment. In light of this paper, I am much closer to believing that man, I am the macrocosm, not the world that surrounds him or me. “We will show them Our signs in the world and in themselves, that the truth may be manifest to them.”[23]
[1] Burckhardt, Titus. Introduction to Sufism. San Francisco: Thorsons (An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers), 1995.
[2] Burckhardt, p. 26
[3] Burckhardt, p. 54
[4] Tufail, Abu Bakr Muhammad bin. The Journey of the Soul; The Story of Hai bin Yaqzan. Trans. Riad Kocache. London: The Octagon Press, 1982. (p. 48)
[5] Corbin, Henry. Creative Imagination in the Sufism of Ibn `Arabi. Trans. Ralph Manheim. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1969. (p. 271)
[6] Note that usage of ‘Soul’ and ‘Self’ refer to ‘an-nafs’ and ‘al-hawiyah’ respectively, and are considered synonymous according to an examination of Burckhardt and Attar.
[7] Burckhardt, p. 26
[8] Jalaluddin Rumi. Signs of the Unseen: The Discourses of Jalaluddin Rumi. Trans. W.M. Thackston, Jr. Putney, Vermont: Threshold Books, 1994. (p. 59)
[9] Jalaluddin Rumi. The Sufi Path of Love: The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi. Trans. William C. Chittick. Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York Press, 1983
[10] Corbin, Henry. Creative Imagination in the Sufism of Ibn `Arabi. Trans. Ralph Manheim. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1969. (p. 95)
[11] Al-Ghazzali, Abu Hamid. The Alchemy of Happiness. Trans. Claud Field.London: M.E. Sharpe, 1991. (p. 5)
[12] The Valley of Search and The Valley of Love, the first two of seven valleys
[13] Attar, Fariduddin. The Conference of the Birds Trans. Afkham Darbandi, and Dick Davis. London: Penguin Books, 1984. (p. 180)
[14] Attar (p. 184)
[15] Al-Ghazzali (p. 5)
[16] Attar (p. 219)
[17] Al-Ghazzali (p.5)
[18] Al-Ghazzali (p.6)
[19] Al-Ghazzali (p.8)
[20] Al-Ghazzali (p.6)
[21] Attar
[22] Reference to the Primordial Covenant
[23] Holy Qur'an. Trans. M. H. Shakir. Elmhurst, NY: Tahrike Tarsile Qur'an, n.d (41:53)
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