By Mawlānā Muḥammad Manẓūr Nuʿmānī p
In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
In the latter part of 1356 AH or the early part of 1357 AH, I found myself facing certain circumstances due to which I felt the need to stay for a few days in such a place where the heart and mind might remain safe from thoughts and unpleasant things, and the heart might attain some peace and tranquillity. For this purpose, my gaze of choice fell upon the khānqāh of a shaykh of guidance of that time, which is situated in a forest, separate and apart from the town and the clamour of habitations, and the scenery is also green and flourishing. In any case, I arrived there.
It was probably the very first day. After finishing the Maghrib prayer, that respected elder was seated on a bed in the courtyard of the khānqāh; out of kindness and grace he seated me beside him. I recall that there was no third person there at that time. Nearby, in the three‑doored room of the khānqāh, a few dhākirs were engaging in the dhikr of “nafy‑ithbāt” (negation and affirmation) and some of them were performing the dhikr of the “Ism‑e‑Dhāt” (the Personal Name of Allah). All of them were making dhikr with considerable loudness, and were striking upon the heart in specific ways prescribed by the mashāyikh of sulūk.
This method of loud dhikr with strikes, at that time, was not only unfamiliar to me, but to some degree almost unbearable. Consequently I could not restrain myself, and with respect and deference I submitted:
“Ḥaḍrat, all my life, whatever I have read about religion, and whatever I have seen in the books, from that I have understood that the real religion is only that which the Messenger of Allah ṣallallāhu ʿalayhi wa sallam brought from Allah Most High, and which he taught to the noble Ṣaḥābah raḍiyallāhu ʿanhum, and then the Ṣaḥābah taught to those after them, and which has reached us from them through correct transmission and narration. As for the way these gentlemen are making loud and striking dhikr, as far as my knowledge goes, neither did the Messenger of Allah ṣallallāhu ʿalayhi wa sallam teach this to the Ṣaḥābah, nor did the Ṣaḥābah have the Tābiʿīn perform dhikr in this manner, nor did the Tābiʿīn teach this method to those after them. Therefore, I have misgivings regarding this method of dhikr, and I wish that, if my misgiving is due to some misunderstanding, it may be corrected.”
Contrary to expectation, that elder, instead of ignoring my question altogether, replied in a very strange manner:
“Maulvī Ṣāḥib! These poor people who come here to me, they are not fit for any other work. They are only fit for this work and they come here only for this purpose, so I just teach them this. The work that you do (that is, serving the religion through speaking and writing) is a very great work. You should continue doing only that, and not get involved in this matter.”
Clearly, this was not an answer to my question. But that elder said only this in response to what I had said, and without giving me any opportunity to say anything further or to draw his attention again to my original question, he began a new discussion about some collective problems of the Indian Muslims and their future, which was also interesting for me. Seeing this approach of his, I too did not consider it appropriate to raise my question again, and this gathering ended near ʿIshāʾ.
The next day, after Maghrib, the same thing happened again: the dhākirs began their respective dhikr in the same manner. I could not restrain myself, and I reminded him of my question of yesterday. But today also, that elder adopted the same attitude as yesterday: completely ignoring what I said, he began a long discussion, probably about the various movements of the Indian Muslims, past and present, and again my question remained pending.
By this attitude of that elder, I did not, praise be to Allah, fall into the misunderstanding that since he had no answer to my question, therefore he was avoiding it. Rather, it occurred to me that perhaps my question had not been regarded as the question of a competent and sincere seeker, but had been considered an objection from a person afflicted with conceit and pride, and for that reason it was ignored in this way.
One of the great teachers of the Ṣūfīs, Ḥāfiẓ Shīrāzī, has given them exactly this advice:
Do not tell the claimant the secrets of love and ecstasy;
Leave him, so that he may die in the torment of his self‑worship.
And there is no doubt that at that time, from this question, self‑satisfaction (as far as I now recall) was not even intended; rather my object was something else.
In the cell of the khānqāh where arrangements had been made for my sleeping, after finishing the ʿIshāʾ prayer and so on, I went there and lay down, and began to reflect, on my own, on this type of practices and occupations of taṣawwuf. In this reflection, I was myself the questioner and myself the answerer. I recall that in this mental debate and discussion sleep did not come for a long time. I wished that my mind should become completely settled in this matter; if there was any mistake in my thinking, it should be corrected, and if I was understanding correctly, then in this regard I should attain such certainty and tranquillity that I might, with full strength, reject and deny these things, and insist, like a true seeker of truth, on the fact that these things are wrong and false.
In this reflection and thinking, after some time my mind turned once to this point: that if my considering these particular practices and occupations of taṣawwuf (for example, these specific methods of dhikr and meditation prescribed by the mashāyikh, which with all their conditions and forms are not established from the Sunnah) to be bidʿah and incorrect is correct, then its meaning will be that Ḥaḍrat Mujaddid al‑Thānī, Ḥaḍrat Shāh Walī Allah, Ḥaḍrat Sayyid Aḥmad Shahīd and Ḥaḍrat Shāh Ismāʿīl Shahīd, and many such elders before them, will have to be regarded not as mujaddidīn or reformers, but as supporters of bidʿahs and promoters of bidʿahs. Because these elders did not merely show lenience and laxity regarding these things due to some expediency or pressure of the time; rather, their books are full of their teachings, and throughout their lives, the seekers who came to them, they made them perform dhikr and spiritual occupations through these very methods and took them through their sulūk in this way. Indeed, among most of these elders, this aspect of their lives is so prominent that those who read their books and know their circumstances know that probably no other aspect of theirs is so prominent.
After my mind turned to this point, the heart very quickly decided that it is far more likely, and far more reasonable, that a person of deficient understanding and little knowledge like myself should be mistaken in understanding this issue, than that a mistake should be attributed to great Imāms and scholars of religion such as Ḥaḍrat Mujaddid al‑Thānī, Ḥaḍrat Shāh Walī Allah and Ḥaḍrat Shāh Ismāʿīl Shahīd.
And that too in a matter related to such a discipline in which my connection is only theoretical, whereas those elders had a lifelong deep and practical connection with it. The heart decided against myself quickly and easily for the reason that, due to some familiarity with their writings, with their personal circumstances, and with their reformative and revivalist services, I was already fully convinced of their firmness in knowledge, their deep understanding of the religion, and their acceptance in the sight of Allah, and my heart could in no way accept that all these elders (despite being, in their own times, knowers of the secrets of religion and mujaddids of the Ummah) considered a few bidʿahs to be a means of nearness to Allah, and themselves remained involved in them all their lives, and also involved thousands of servants of Allah in them.
Indeed, a mujaddid, like a prophet, is not infallible and not a recipient of revelation, but he also cannot be a caller to and promoter of bidʿahs, especially in that branch of the religion in which he is more absorbed than in all the other branches, and of which he is a special caller, and through which he is carrying out the work of reform and revival. If in that he cannot distinguish between Sunnah and bidʿah, then certainly he will be a cause of corruption more than of reform, and of misguidance more than of guidance.
In any case, these were a few speculative points, on reaching which the confusion of my mind lessened somewhat, and I accepted that probably I myself was making some mistake in understanding this issue, and that now I should try to identify and discover my own mistake. A large part of the night had passed. Having reached this conclusion, I ended that reflection at that time and resolved to sleep, and I slept.
The elder whose khānqāh this incident concerns has the habit of walking several miles every day after the Fajr prayer. That day this humble one also accompanied him, and I mentioned to him the mental debate and discussion of the night and its result, and submitted:
“My heart and mind have accepted this much, that what I had understood about these practices and occupations of taṣawwuf is probably not correct, and that I am making some mistake in this, but up till now I have not been able to identify that mistake. Since I have a student‑like nature, I wish that this knot too may be untied, and that the uneasiness that remains may also be removed.”
He smiled on hearing this from me and said:
“Maulvī Ṣāḥib! This is exactly your doubt, is it not, that these things are bidʿah? Tell me, what is the definition of bidʿah?”
I replied:
“The scholars have defined bidʿah in various ways, but what appears to be the more refined and well‑researched is this simple definition: an addition in the religion of something for which there is no evidence in the Sharīʿah.”
He said:
“Yes, that is correct. But tell me this: if there is something intended and sought in the religion, and Allah and His Messenger have declared attaining it to be necessary, yet at some time, due to a change in the circumstances of the age, it can no longer be attained by that method by which, in the time of the Messenger of Allah ṣallallāhu ʿalayhi wa sallam and the noble Ṣaḥābah raḍiyallāhu ʿanhum, it used to be attained, and for it the use of some other method becomes necessary, then would you also call the use of this new method an ‘addition in the religion’ and ‘bidʿah’?”
(Then, in order to make his point even clearer, he said:)
“For example, learning and teaching the religion is necessary, and in the religion it has a very emphatic command. And you know that in the time of the Messenger of Allah ṣallallāhu ʿalayhi wa sallam and the Ṣaḥābah, for this, love alone used to suffice; there was no separate arrangement for teaching, there were no madrasahs, there were no books. But later the circumstances became such that affection was no longer sufficient for this purpose; rather, the need arose for books, and then also for madrasahs. So the servants of Allah wrote books and established madrasahs, and from that time up till now the entire system of teaching and learning the religion has continued through this, and stands upon this. So would you call this change in the method of teaching and learning an ‘addition in the religion’ and bidʿah?”
I submitted:
“No! An addition in the religion occurs when something is made into an intended objective and a religious demand in itself. But if, due to the old method having become insufficient for attaining some religious objective, a new permissible method is adopted, then this will not be called an ‘addition in the religion’, nor will it be bidʿah.”
He said:
All those practices and engagements of sulūk (spiritual path) about which you have a doubt of being an innovation are of this very nature. None of these things are made an objective or purpose in themselves. Rather, all of them are employed for the purification and adornment of the self, which is an objective in religion and something commanded. For example, understand it in this way: love of Allah Most High, constant remembrance of Him and of His good pleasure, remaining in concern for Him, and never being heedless of Him at any time, these states are required in religion. From the Qurʾān and ḥadīth it is known that without these the īmān (faith) and Islām are not complete at all [a few of the texts of the Book and Sunnah from which this matter is known will be presented for the esteemed readers in the following pages]. However, in the time of the Messenger of Allah, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, just as education and training for religion were obtained from him, so these states of faith were also obtained through his companionship, and through the blessed companionship of the Prophet, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, this effect was also present in the loves of the noble Ṣaḥabah.
But later, because the environment became much more corrupt and capacities became deficient, for this purpose even the love of the perfected ones no longer remained sufficient. So the Imāms of this branch of religion added to companionship an abundance of remembrance and reflection in order to obtain these states, and through experience this plan proved to be like a healing. In the same way, some mashāʾikh, after observing the conditions of the people of their time, prescribed for them particular kinds of spiritual exercises and spiritual struggles in order to break their lower selves, subdue their desires, and produce gentleness in their nature. In a similar way, in order to increase the effect of remembrance, and to produce tenderness and single-mindedness in the nature, the method of ḍarb (rhythmic bodily movement while doing dhikr) was devised. None of these things is considered an objective or something commanded in itself, rather all of them are done purely as treatment and strategy. For this reason, once the objective is achieved, all these things are made to be abandoned. This is also why the Imāms of the path, in accordance with the conditions of their respective times and their own experiences, have continued to alter, decrease and increase these things, and even now they continue to do so. Indeed, sometimes one and the same Shaykh, according to the specific conditions and capacities of different seekers, prescribes different practices and engagements for each of them. There are also some who possess such a high capacity that they do not need to be given any such special remembrance or engagement at all, and Allah Most High grants it to them directly. From this every person can understand that all these things are carried out only as treatment and strategy, and only when needed.”
From this discourse and clarification of that respected elder, my earlier mental anxiety was removed, but a new thirst arose: that what has been stated should be tested and tried by myself, and that through my personal experience I should attain peace of heart and increased certainty.
However, given my circumstances and engagements, there was no scope for me to devote any large or continuous amount of time for this experiment. Therefore, I submitted with simplicity and frankness:
“If this practice of remembrance and engagement is undertaken for these purposes and through it these things are actually obtained, then I too am in need of it. But I cannot give much time, because I do not wish to abandon those other religious works with which I am somewhat connected.”
He said:
“Dear Maulvī Ṣāḥib, taṣawwuf (Sufism) is not meant to make people abandon religious work. On the contrary, through it strength comes into religious work and spirit enters it. But what can one say, this is the will of Allah: those whom Allah has made capable of doing religious work do not turn their attention here at all, whereas if they paid even a little attention in this direction, they would see how much strength would come into their works. Ḥaḍrat Khwājah Ṣāḥib, may Allah have mercy on him, Bādā Ṣāḥib, may Allah have mercy on him, and later Ḥaḍrat Mujaddid Ṣāḥib, Ḥaḍrat Shāh Ṣāḥib and Ḥaḍrat Sayyid Ṣāḥib rendered the services to religion in our country that they did and accomplished what they showed to the world (a hundredth or a thousandth part of which our great associations and organisations are not able to accomplish). In this, their sincerity and that power of the heart, which was produced through the path of taṣawwuf, had a special role. But now the situation is that only those poor people come towards this path who are suitable merely for the simple work of saying ‘Allah, Allah’. You yourself know that Allah Most High has placed different capacities among His servants. A person of deficient capacity cannot perform the work of those of higher capacity.”
In the same connection he said:
“God knows what people think of taṣawwuf. Taṣawwuf is nothing but a means for creating sincerity and love. The work that can be done through the power of love and the blessing of sincerity cannot be done without them. So in reality taṣawwuf itself is not the necessity. The necessity is to create love and sincerity. If someone finds some other way for attaining this that is even easier and shorter than this, then blessed is he: let him attain it by that way, and let him also tell us. We know only this path, which thousands of truthful servants of Allah have experienced for hundreds of years, among whom there were hundreds who were mujtahids (jurist‑scholars capable of independent legal reasoning) in this branch of religion and were also recipients of inspiration.”
I submitted:
“If a person is already engaged in some religious work and he feels that he has not been granted love and sincerity, then should he leave that work for some time and first acquire these, or is it also possible that he keep doing whatever he is doing and at the same time make an effort to attain this as well?”
He said:
“Yes, it is possible. Although there are some temperaments that need, for a certain period, to be occupied with this alone, with single‑mindedness.”
I submitted:
“Is it also necessary for this to take bayʿah (formal pledge of allegiance)?”
He said:
“No, absolutely not. Yes, love and companionship with seeking and trust are necessary. Bayʿah is only for the expression of connection and trust. Apart from that, bayʿah has no special role in the actual objective.”
I submitted:
“Then please prescribe something for me as well.”
He said:
“Maulvī Ṣāḥib, it is in the ḥadīth: ‘al‑mustashār muʾtaman’ (the one whose advice is sought is a trustee; he must give advice with complete honesty). For you I consider it better that for this purpose you turn to such‑and‑such Ṣāḥib or such‑and‑such Ṣāḥib. Allah Most High has bestowed a special favour on these gentlemen, and for people of learning like you I consider only these gentlemen to be suitable.”
I submitted:
“I already had some sense of the greatness of both these elders in my heart, and now, through your statement, it has increased even more. But since this inner longing has arisen in me through you, for this reason I consider it better for myself that in this path I obtain guidance from you alone.”
He, while expressing full affection and kindness, once or twice again referred me to those two elders. However, when I insisted, with respect, on my own view, he accepted it and, taking full account of my occupations, prescribed a very brief programme of remembrance and so on. I began to carry it out. After this I remained there, I think, for another four or five days. When, having sought permission, I was about to depart, he said with particular emphasis:
“You must certainly go to the service of Ḥaḍrat Dehlvī, meaning Ḥaḍrat Mawlānā Muḥammad Ilyās, and stay there for some time.”
On that occasion he also said a few very lofty words regarding the aforementioned Mawlānā, and it is a fact that it was these lofty words that persuaded me to act on this advice. And as I have already written in the introduction to the collected sayings of the late Mawlānā, it was only after this that I came to know something of his personality, and after some time I was also able to understand why I had been so emphatically advised to be present in the service of the Mawlānā. The truth is that in the distance I felt from khānqāh‑life, khānqāh‑engagements and the people of the khānqāh, a considerable part was also played by this feeling of mine that in those circles I found little concern for religion and little zeal for serving it, even though I regard this as a special legacy of the Messenger of Allah, ṣallallāhu ʿalayhi wa sallam. My thought is that that elder understood this feeling of mine, and in order to correct and adjust it he so emphatically urged me to be present in the service of Ḥaḍrat Mawlānā Muḥammad Ilyās, may Allah have mercy on him, and to stay with him. It was as though he wished to show me, through direct observation, the pain for religion of a servant endowed with love and sincerity, and his restlessness and agitation in this path, and to show that those who serve religion are like this:
O bird of dawn, learn love from the moth,
It became one with burning, yet no sound emerged.
This incident is from eight or nine years ago. Whatever the memory has preserved until now, I have written. Regarding the portion of my and that elder’s conversation that has been quoted, it is obvious that after such a long time it was not possible to transmit it in the exact original words. Therefore all of this should be regarded only as transmission by meaning. Indeed, there is a strong possibility that some points from this sequence have been left out, and that some points written here were in fact heard from that elder on this subject in some other later gathering.
In any case, regarding the explanations and clarifications that have been written here and attributed to that elder, I am at ease that all of them are indeed from him. As for the personal experiment that had been intended concerning the practices and engagements of taṣawwuf, it is a regret that, due to my own lack of aspiration and carelessness, and also to some extent because of the abundance and special nature of my other engagements, that experiment could not be carried out as it ought to have been. However, the broken, fragmentary and nominal connection that I did have with this path and its practices during those few years, and through which I attained some closeness to certain senior figures of this way and got the opportunity to study their states and their environment from near at hand, led to my gaining a few certainties. Some of these are such that they are worth presenting to the opponents and deniers of taṣawwuf, and some are necessary to present to the people of taṣawwuf themselves. Speaking honestly before God, the poor “taṣawwuf” is oppressed not only by its deniers and opponents, but to some extent by certain things of those who are its bearers and standard‑bearers as well.