Muhyiddin Ibn `Arabi

Muhyiddin Ibn `Arabi is one of the greatest personalities in both Islamic and universal mysticism. Both the Eastern and the Western worlds are in agreement as to his greatness, although they do not necessarily agree as to what sort of greatness it is.
For over seven hundred years the world of Islam has been in controversy about the Shaikh. Many people love, respect and admire him, but there are also those who belittle and curse him.

Farsighted people of refined intelligence have always found treasures in the depths of the vast ocean of his words and have called him "ash-shaikh al-akbar" (the greatest of spiritual guides). But narrow-minded people, blinded by fanaticism, who cannot penetrate into his work, have insulted him by calling him "ash-shaikh al-akfar" (the greatest of heretics).

Great men have more enemies than friends. Even when our master Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, shed his light upon a world buried under the night of ignorance and corruption, anly a very few welcomed him. Many, whose eyes were used to darkness, did not see his light-nor did they want to.

Ibn `Arabi all his life felt the pain of not being understood. Yet the breadth and depth of his wisdom, insight, vision, and knowledge was and is awesome to whomever catches a glimpse of it. Many of his expressions of divine mysteries have never been improved upon. Many important affairs, which he foretold centuries ago, have taken place and continue to take place.

Despite--or because of-the controversy surrounding him, Ibn `Arabi has become one of the most important expounders of Sufi wisdom. His influence quickly spread even beyond the Islamic world, entering medieval Europe. In their famous studies, Asin Palacios and Salverda di Grave have pointed out that Dante, in the Divina Com¬media was often inspired by Ibn `Arabi's works, deriving from them both the grand design of Hell and Paradise and the image of the beatified young woman as guide to the divine. Through Dante's prestige, these themes permeated old Europe. Today, the 5haikh's influence on the spiritual growth of humanity continues to grow as his works become more and more available in the West.

His words are like waves in an immense sea con¬taining endless secrets. He produced through inspiration perhaps five hundred books. Many of them are short, about the length of a long article. Some, like Fusus al-Hikam, Mawaqi' an-Nujum, or Futuhat al-Makkiyyah, are books of many volumes that have responded to the questions and yearning of multitudes of seekers since his time. They are wellsprings of wisdom. Yet there is a great deal of thought in these books that cannot be digested by many intelligent people-even scholars-if their intelligence and knowledge are not supported by pure and believing hearts. Nor is this wisdom accessible to theologians who see only the surface and the form of their religion.

In his prime, Ibn `Arabi was a thin, middle-sized man-well proportioned, with small, delicate hands and feet. His skin was white. His head was small, with a round face, a high forehead and a fine slightly curved nose of medium size. He had eyebrows curved like the crescent moon; he wore a thick white beard.

He was courageous and tenacious, extremely patient, and very generous with both the material things he owned and the deep wisdom he possessed.
Although not everyone understood him, all were in awe of his spiritual presence. Always gentle, compassionate, and merciful, he viewed everything with love, including his enemies and dangerous animals. He detested violence, even in the punishment of murderers. He wrote, "Although according to religious law the punishment for murder is death, it is better to forgive." He also wrote, "On the Day of Judgment, I will intercede for those who deny me."

One of his contemporaries hated him so much that he would curse him ten times after each of his five daily prayers. When the man died, Ibn `Arabi went to his funeral. Afterwards he wouldn't eat or drink or see anyone for days. A close friend insisted that the Shaikh come to his house for dinner. He obliged, but neither spoke nor ate, until all of a sudden, he smiled and started eating. When his friend asked him about his recent state, he said, "I vowed to my Lord that I would go into retreat and fast until He forgave that man who hated me so. Now, Allah, in His mercy, has forgiven him, so I can return to the life of this world."

Muhyiddin Abu Bakr Muhammad ibn `Ali ibn al-`Arabi was born on August 7, 1165 (560H), on the twenty seventh day of Ramadan, in the city of Murcia in Andalusia. He was a descendant of Hatim at-Ta'i, the leg¬endary model of Arab generosity.

Ibn `Arabi's father saw the potential in his son early, and when the family moved to the great cultural center of Seville, he had him thoroughly educated. At eight years of age he began to study hadith, Qur'anic commentary, and Qur'anic recitation with the famous teacl~ers of the time. He also studied the literary arts and physical sciences and associated throughout his youth with many Sufis, including two distinguished female spiritual guides. At a very tender age he thus became accomplished in both worldly and religious knowledge. Even his teachers respected the intelligence and wisdom of this child.

Once his father sent the youthful Muhyiddin to visit the greatest philosopher of the era, Ibn Rushd (Averroes). Ibn Rushd was amazed by the supernatural talent and aptitude of the young man. He received him with respect and even debated with him. During their interview Muhyiddin was able to answer questions whose answers were only known to Ibn Rushd. Ibn Rushd was amazed to see that this young man knew things, instantly and miraculously, that he himself had only obtained through years of study. It was as if the youth were reading his mind. He said that, having read that such people existed, he was thank ful to Allah for bringing him such a being. Still, the great philosopher, proud of his knowledge, was unable to see his young guest's true value and continued in his own way.

For his part, Muhyiddin wished to encounter Ibn Rushd again. In his dreams, though, he saw veils between himself and the philosopher; he understood this to mean that there was no way for understanding and agreement to exist between them. So another meeting never took place. When Ibn Rushd died in Marrakesh in 1199 (595H), his body was sent back to Cordoba. Ibn `Arabi was there, and he observed with sadness that the transport camel bore on one side the coffin of Ibn Rushd, and on the other side, as a counterbalance, the books the philosopher had written.
While Muhyiddin was still a youth, he also made the extraordinary acquaintance of Khidr, a wandering immortal sent by Allah to assist his special friends. Since the young man himself was destined to wander for much of his life and had unique access to hidden things, many peo¬ple came to believe that the cryptic Khidr was Ibn `Arabi's special patron.

In 1201 (598H), when his father and mother had died and his first marriage had concluded, Muhyiddin left Seville, intending to perform his Pilgrimage. He never returned to Spain. The Shaikh's journey eventually includ¬ed all of North Africa, the Near East, and Anatolia. He vis¬ited Marrakesh and Fez in Morocco; Algeria, Tunis, and Egypt; Mecca and Medina on the Arabian peninsula; Syria and Iraq; and the cities of Malatya, Sivas, and Konya of the Seljuk Empire. He traveled, in fact, through the entire Arabic-speaking world.

Before he left on this epic journey, he had a vision in which all the prophets were gathered. The prophet Hud advanced to meet him, and Muhyiddin asked him the reason for such a gathering. Hud replied that the prophets had met together to intercede with Allah on behalf of the great Sufi martyr, Mansur al-Hallaj, who, as punishment for certain critical statements, had been kept apart for cen¬turies from the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him.

In this vision Muhyiddin was also shown his own life-in its entirety, from the beginning to the end. This made him decide to start his travels immediately. His first stop was Marrakesh in Morocco; there a dream directed him on to Fez. In his monumental work, al-Futuhat al¬Makkiyyah (Meccan Revelations), he relates the dream:

I saw a treasure under the Divine Throne where the verse, “There is no power nor strength save in Allah, the High, the Great" is generated. I visited many other treasures under that one, from every corner of whieh beautiful birds flew out. The most beautiful of them all flew in front of me and gave me greetings. It was revealed to my heart that I should take it as my companion in my travels to the regions of the East. I asked my heart, "Who may this companion be?" I was in Marrakesh at that
time. My heart told me, "He is Muhammad al¬Hasar in the city of Fez, who begged Allah to bring him to the East. So take him with you as
your companion." I was pleased with this, and told the beautiful bird, "Allah willing, you will be my companion." I went to Fez, sought and found him, and asked him, "Have you prayed to Allah for something?"
"Yes," he said. "I begged Him to send me to the cities of the East, and I was told that someone called Muhyiddin would take me there."
I smiled and said, "I am Muhyiddin." We became companions and friends until we reached Egypt, where he died.

During this period of his life, Ibn `Arabi spent his time fasting, praying, and meditating. The last period of intense worship, which raised him to the level of sainthood took nine months, from Muharram to the end of the month of Ramadan. He neither ate nor drank and was in a con¬tinuous state of ecstasy.

In Tunis on their way to Egypt, Ibn `Arabi and Muhammad al-Hasar had a strange experience. The Shaikh relates:
On our way, I found a man living in a marsh in a place covered with rushes. I learned that he had lived there for thirty years in seclusion. I stayed with him for three days. He prayed day and night and did strange things. Every morn¬ing he went fishing and caught three fish. One he would let go, one was his meal for the whole day, and one he gave to the poor.

As I was about to leave, he asked me where I was going. I told him, "To Egypt." Tears came to his eyes. "Oh!" he said. "My beloved master, my Shaikh, is in Egypt. Please go to him and give him my respects and greet¬ings. Ask him to advise me what to do with myself in this world."
I was amazed. That man had abandoned this world and the worldly. It seemed to me that he did not need any advice about it.

When I went to Egypt, I found his Shaikh living in a palace in complete luxury and wealth. He appeared to be nothing more than a man of the world. When I told him the request of his dervish in Tunis he said, "Go and tell him that he should take the love of this world out of his heart." This also amazed me, coming from him.

On my return to Tunis I found the seclud¬ed fisherman and told him what his master had said. He shed tears of blood. "Woe is me! For thirty years I have separated myself from the world and spent my time in worship, but my heart still belongs to the world! While my mas¬ter lives within the riches of this world, he hasn't a drop of it in his heart, neither its love nor its worries. 0 Muhyiddin, that is the dif¬ference between him and me!"
This story related by Ibn `Arabi became the essence for many who follow the mystic path. While others with¬drew themselves from the world, trying to purify theirhearts in caves and cells, Ibn `Arabi, and other Sufis fol¬lowing his example, wandered the world, viewing the beauties of creation and finding in it the traces of divine power. They used the world as an object of meditation and remembrance of Allah.

Indeed, seclusion is like a hospital for the sick at heart. As one does not stay in a hospital forever, neither is it right to stay in seclusion for more than a short while.

Perfecting one's humanity comes through living together socially. At best, seclusion is necessary to clean the mirror
of one's heart-which then must be taken out to the world, where the manifestation of divine power reflects on it and brings knowledge of the Creator.
When Ibn `Arabi came to Egypt, he met most of the scholars, wise men, and sages there. The gutb-the chief saint of the time-was also in Egypt. Ibn `Arabi found him, for he knew that the perfection of his mystical growth depended on divine knowledge manifest in such saints rather than in only praying and fasting and withdrawing from the world. He relates his encounter with the qutb:

One day the qutb asked to have a feast prepared for the community of sages in Egypt. We had made a meat dish, which cooked for a long time in large earthenware pots. After the food was brought to the tables, when everyone had taken one mouthful, all the pots broke. Suspecting a divine sign in that strange event, the qutb addressed us, saying, "What do you think is the reason for this strange happening?"

Many answered giving physical reasons, and some, theological ones. One comment in¬terested the qutb: Someone suggested that the pots were trying to say, "I have been honored by the hands of the friends of Allah who came close to me. That is sufficient for me. If I had¬n't destroyed myself I would have risked that the enemies of Allah might cook onions and garlic and leeks in me!"
Then the qutb turned to me and said: "0 Muhyiddin, what do you think`?"
I said, "The pot is telling us, `May your heart break in a thousand pieces if you put in it the love of others after the love of Allah has entered it!"' The qutb smiled and approved and said, "That is exactly what I think."

Thus, spiritual knowledge and the divine wisdom obtained through it bring one close to the truth, enable one to see the inner reality, and grant the ability to take lessons from everything one sees.

Ibn `Arabi went on to Mecca, where he stayed for several intensely visionary years. Here he encountered his female image of knowledge, the young girl Nizam, "a sage among the sages of the Holy Places," who inspired his famous poetic work Tarjuman al ashwaq (The Translator of Ardent Desires). Here, too, he married again: to Fatimah bint Yunus, daughter of the sharif; and fathered a son, `Imaddudin, who would follow his father and eventually, in 1269 (667H), share his tomb.

In Mecca he also began his monumental work, al¬Futuhat al-Makkiyyah. The Futuhat was a vast compendi¬um of insights and unique symbolic teachings; each of the eight volumes took a calligrapher two years to copy. What it contains is not knowledge obtained from university scholars or written in books, but wisdom revealed from divine sources, discovered through personal experience. When he was writing it, it was as if he were forced to do so against his will. He became feverish and would sweat, even when it was cold. He confessed, "I do not write liter¬ature out of my own will and intention, as others do, but I receive such powerful inspiration that it burns my very being. Only writing it down extinguishes the fire."
For instance, he relates in the Futuhat an inspira¬tion he received:

As I was circumambulating the Kaaba I saw a strange person, quite different in appearance from what I was accustomed to seeing among the people. As he walked around the Kaaba he continually recited, "We, like you, are circum¬ambulating this House." I caught up with him and asked him who he was. He said, "I am your ancestor far removed."
"When did you live?"
"I died over forty thousand years ago."

"They say Adam, may Allah's blessing be upon him, was the first man and lived only six thousand years ago."
"Which Adam do you mean? Know that he is only the last of one hundred thousand Adams who came and passed away before him."
(Indeed, modern science has discovered evidence of people who lived hundreds of thousands of years ago. There is no indication in the Holy Qur'an, nor in the hadiths, that man was created seven thousand years ago. This idea came from an interpretation of certain genealo¬gies attached to the Torah.)

The Shaikh relates another such incident that occurred in Mecca:
One Friday, after the congregational prayers, I was circumambulating the Kaaba. I saw a man whose costume and physical appearance were very different from those of everyone else. He seemed to be floating in the crowd, passing in between people without even touching them. It was revealed to me that he was a pure spirit made visible.
I stopped and greeted him and talked to him. His name was Ahmad as-Sabti. I asked him how it was that he was given the privilege of assuming a form and shape and of perform¬ing the hajj after having left this world. He said, "I used to work for this world only one day a week, for my sustenance. I spent the rest of my time in worship."
"Which day did you work?" I asked. "Saturday," he said, "because Allah Most High began the creation on Sunday and ceased working on that day. So I worked the day He ceased work, and received the profit of the six days He worked!"
"Who was the qutb when you were in this world?" I asked him. He said that he was. Then he disappeared.
A Meccan friend of mine who was present asked me, "Who was that person who talked to you? I have not seen such a person in Mecca all my life!"

As Hafiz ibn Najjar has said, "Ibn `Arabi was a qutb and knew the other qutbs of his time. Furthermore, he knew the qutbs of the past and future. Mostly he kept com pany with the Sufis and spent his time at the Kaaba. That seemed to be his only pleasure."
Despite his deep attraction to the Kaaba, his busi¬ness in Mecca was temporarily concluded two years later and he resumed his travels. In the year 1204 (601H) Ibn `Arabi came to Baghdad. He stayed only twelve days. In that brief time he found and wore the cloak that had been left for him fifty years before by the pivotal Sufi teacher, Shaikh Abdul-Qadir al-Jilani, and he met with the wise men and sages of Baghdad. He spent another three years on the road, in Mosul and Egypt, before returning to Mecca in 1207 (604H).

This time he could spend only a year in Mecca before the journey summoned him. He returned to Mosul, proceeded through Malatya and Sivas, and came in 1210 (607H) to Konya, the political and cultural capital of the Western Seljuk Empire. In Konya he is believed to have married the widowed mother of Sadruddin al-Qunawi. Sadruddin was the grandson of the Sultan of Malatya and already a promising Sufi. His intention in this marriage was more than having a good wife; it was also to have as a son Sadruddin, who later became one of his most impor¬tant disciples.

(The Shaikh's other blood son, and his daughter, were possibly born from this marriage. Sa'duddin, born in Malatya in 1220 (617H), devoted his life to the study of hadith and died in Damascus in 1258 (654H). His beloved daughter Zaynab probably died while still a child.)

Ibn `Arabi came back to Baghdad in 1211 (608H). Here he encountered another great Sufi shaikh, Shi-habuddin `Umar as Suhrawardi. When they met, they meditated upon each other without saying a word. Suhrawardi's opinion: "Ibn `Arabi is the ocean of truth. Everything he is and everything he does follows the exam¬ple of the Prophet. Both his visible self and his inner self reflect and are filled with the light of Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him."

It was around this time that Ibn `Arabi's mystical knowledge reached perfection. He was so immersed in the ocean of Truth that his words as well as his inner being became invisible and inconceivable to those who remained on the shore. From 1213 (610H) to 1221 (618H) he moved from Baghdad to Aleppo, back to Mecca, back to Malatya, and again to Aleppo. During this period he increasingly encountered envy and misunderstanding, much of which he attempted to disarm. Yet, he also found supporters in high places: for example, al-Malik az-Zahir,  ruler of Aleppo, and al-Malik al-'Adil, ruler of Damascus. When, in 1223 (620H) al-'Adil implored him to settle in his city, he accepted. His wanderings were finally over. Except for a brief visit to Aleppo, he would remain in Damascus for thirty years.

Since the event is said to have occurred in 1223 (620H), it must have been in Damascus that Ibn `Arabi met a young man who would become another Sufi of uni versal scope and appeal, Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi, inspirer of the Mevlevi Sufis, the famous whirling der¬vishes. (It was still five years before Rumi and his family, now wandering as refugees, would move to Konya, where Ibn `Arabi's disciple Sadruddin al-Qunawi would later become attached to Jalaluddin as well.)
The adolescent Jalaluddin accompanied his father Baha'uddin (one of the greatest men of knowledge of his time) on a visit to Ibn `Arabi, who recalled this meeting with pleasure:
I asked Jalaluddin how old he was and he answered that he was a year younger than Huda, Allah the Guide. According to the numerical value of the letters, the word Huda adds up to 605. As Jalaluddin said he was a year younger, he meant that he was born in 604 [1207 CE].
As Baha'uddin and young Jalaluddin took their leave, Ibn `Arabi said, "Amazing, that an ocean is follow¬ing a small lake!"

Not all of the Shaikh's encounters in Damascus were happy ones. Many of the scholars and theologians there, as elsewhere, envied and hated him-not least because he had the favor of the prince and his highest offi¬cials. Their claim, though, was always that his religion was suspect. One scholar who defended him was Kamaluddin ash-Shami. "Those of you who deny him and condemn him and claim not to understand him, come to me!" he offered. "I will speak in your tongue, help you in your difficulties, and eliminate your doubts." It is not clear that his offer was very widely accepted.

In his turn, Ibn `Arabi was none too fond of the scholars of Damascus, but their opposition to him was not the reason. He disliked them because they sold their knowledge for profit, and that money had become a veil preventing them from seeing the Truth. He hated money, and he hated the people who made money their god.

Someone once gave him an enormously valuable palace as a gift. Immediately after he accepted it, a beggar came and asked him for money. He had none. "0 man in need," he said, "I have no possessions except this palace. Please take it, for the love of Allah!" And he gave the beg¬gar the palace.

One day in Damascus he saw an imam-a lover of money, not of Allah-leading a whole congregation of peo¬ple who also had the love of money in their hearts. He called to them from the door, saying, "I am treading upon the god you worship; he is under my feet!" The congrega¬tion left their prayer to curse him and beat him. Some say he died from the wounds he received on this occasion.

He left this world on the night of Friday, November 16, 1240 (638H), the twenty-eighth day of the Arabic month of Rabi' ath Thani. He was seventy-six years old. His funeral prayer was presided over by the qadiof Damascus, and he Salihiyyah.

The scholars eventually had their revenge. His grave later became the site of a garbage dump. So it remained until the Ottoman Sultan, Selim I, the Resolute, took the city of Damascus.

Sultan Selim be,lieved that Ibn `Arabi had predict¬ed his conquest of the Near East and Egypt in an essay called "Shajarat al nu `maniyyahfi dawlat al-uth maniyyah," which described the Ottoman state long before it existed.
In that essay it was also written, "Idha dakhalas¬sinufish-shin, yash'aru qabra Muhyiddin" ("When the let¬ter `S' enters the letter `Sh,' Muhyiddin's tomb will be dis covered.") The learned men in the Ottoman court inter¬preted the letter "S" as standing for Selim and the letter "Sh" as the city of Sham, or Damascus. They informed the Sultan that he would discover the saint's tomb when he conquered Damascus.
Indeed, when Selim entered Damascus, the first thing he did was to search. He found the lost grave covered with garbage. The great warrior wept and ordered a tomb and mosque built on the site. Then he commissioned Shaikh Makki, one of the greatest theologians of the time, to write a book on Ibn `Arabi's life and works.

Shaikh Makki wrote al-Janib al-gharbifi mushkilat Ibn al `Arabi, attempting to clarify some of the misunder¬standings about Ibn `Arabi's thoughts in a language even narrow-minded people would understand. Other scholars of the time were encouraged by the sultan to write forty commentaries on the Fusus al-Hikam.

Sultan Selim also visited the mosque where the was buried in the quarter of attack that may have caused the saint's death had occurred. He found the spot where the Shaikh had said, "The god you worship is under my feet!" and had it exca¬vated. A treasure of gold coins was discovered.
May Allah have mercy on the soul of Muhyiddin Ibn `Arabi, and may He be pleased with him and bestow peace upon his soul.

May the Creator of All, Master of the universes seen and unseen, known and unknown, Allah-free of all fault, heedlessness, defect and deficiency, pure and most holy, knower and container of all things, the Lord who preserves us from all disasters and calamities-bestow His blessings and grace upon our Master Muhammad, upon his family and companions.

May Allah bestow His peace and blessings upon our Master Muhammad, upon all the prophets and mes¬sengers, upon the saints and the righteous servants, upon the angels, upon those who reside by the Throne of Grace, and upon all faithful servants among the peoples of the earth and in the heavens. Amin.








by Sheikh Tosun Bayrak al-Jerrahi al-Halveti

(Taken from “Divine Governance of the Human Kingdom”)

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