Abstract
This article responds to a contribution by Dr Muhammad Hafiz Yaqub in issue 74 of the magazine. That contribution sought to defend the philosopher Ibn Rushd, but did so in a way that suggested an underlying hostility and fundamental conflict between Sufis and philosophers, using the famous symbolic encounter between these two great figures of Islamic civilisation as evidence.
Disagreement without personal enmity
The Greatest Master had no enemies on his own side. If anyone treated those who differed from him in opinion, school or even religion fairly, it was Muhyiddin Ibn al-Arabi. Where people were hostile to him, during his life or afterwards, that hostility was one-sided. It reflected upon its authors and only increased his standing, fame and distinction. Ibn Rushd, too, was occupied with his learning, research and books. He was less fortunate because he flourished amid political and cultural upheaval, which led to his tragedy, exile and death. None of this had any connection with Ibn al-Arabi or with his spiritual approach, which differed from that of philosophers and jurists without declaring them unbelievers, attacking them personally or disparaging their views.
In the Futuhat, for example, Ibn al-Arabi frequently sets out the opinions of jurists and philosophers, analyses them, prefers some and disagrees with others, before explaining his own position. He does not speak ill of those whose opinions he rejects. Often he explains why they adopted their positions and makes allowance for their perspective, even when he does not accept it.
Writing, knowledge and spiritual experience
For someone who reads Ibn al-Arabi, it can become difficult to enjoy other writers, even great authors and philosophers who investigate obscure questions. Such writers often repeat earlier opinions, analyse them and try to derive new knowledge. The difficulty grows when profound ideas are compressed into short articles for fast-moving media whose readers often lack the background needed to understand them.
In these circumstances, words and sentences can be filled with suggestions, allusions and hints, as well as explicit statements. Some are comprehensible and others are not; some are precise and others strained or mistaken. This may be intentional, or it may simply be a literary technique that lends writing life and an attractive form.
The writings of Ibn al-Arabi and other realised masters, by contrast, are rich in subtleties. A reader may discover a host of allusions behind each word and a sea of meanings in every sentence. They complement one another to form expressions—or vessels—that carry the reader across divine outpourings into another real world experienced by these masters. They convey what they tasted through unveiling and witnessing, rather than what they imagined or inferred through analogy and thought.
If the aim is to delight and entertain readers, that is a worthwhile purpose, served by poetry, stories and novels. If the aim is to offer sound knowledge on which to build understanding and advance awareness, culture, science and even practical life, the author regards the spiritual writings of realised scholars and saints, such as Ibn al-Arabi, as especially truthful and profound. This does not diminish other disciplines, including philosophy and jurisprudence. The article argues that much enduring knowledge discussed by philosophers has roots in spiritual traditions, naming Hermes, Zoroaster and Parmenides before Islam, and numerous examples afterwards, including Ibn al-Arabi.
Jurists, philosophers and Sufis
For the Islamic period, the article argues that leading jurists benefited from Sufi teachers. It describes Abu Hanifa as a master of a Sufi path, al-Shafi’i as having associated with Sufis, and Ahmad ibn Hanbal as advising his son Abd Allah to sit with them. It also attributes to Malik ibn Anas the saying that jurisprudence without Sufism leads to wrongdoing, Sufism without jurisprudence to heresy, and their combination to realisation.
In the author’s view, conflict between jurists and philosophers was manufactured rather than rooted in Islamic law, and was associated with political interests, particularly in al-Andalus. Jurists who fought philosophers often also fought Sufis, treating them as philosophers. The article argues that Sufis did not seek enemies and that serious philosophers, such as Ibn Rushd, likewise had neither time for personal hostility nor ambitions for authority and influence.
The encounter with Ibn Rushd
Many researchers have discussed Ibn Rushd’s crisis, sometimes approaching it through the account in the Futuhat of his meeting with the young Ibn al-Arabi. The encounter took place while Ibn Rushd was chief judge in Cordoba, long before his exile. Ibn al-Arabi had no involvement in that crisis. He describes their difference as an example of contrasting ways of understanding existence: the philosopher relies on reflection and logic, while the Sufi trusts tasting and witnessing.
The brief symbolic dialogue contains indications that may help bring together reason and witnessing, or theoretical rational knowledge and knowledge received through divine outpouring. The author sees in this a possible foundation for an integrated account of the natural and spiritual dimensions of existence, including motion, time and space.
The subject was treated more fully in the author’s article in issue 9 of the magazine, “Between Yes and No: Ibn Rushd and Ibn al-Arabi—Distinction and Union between Reason and the Heart”, and is not repeated here. Despite his major disagreements with philosophers, jurists and many Sufis, the author maintains that Ibn al-Arabi did not disparage individuals simply because they differed from him.
The ethical conclusion
The article concludes with an example from the Futuhat, volume 2, page 363. It sets the Qur’anic injunction against taking God’s enemies as allies beside God’s kindness towards them. Ibn al-Arabi says that one who seeks intimate friendship with the Merciful should do good to all God’s creatures: unbelievers and believers, the disobedient, humans, jinn, angels, animals, plants and inanimate things.
Such a person should, within their capacity, embody comprehensive mercy and kindness, allowing good to reach others without making them aware of its source. Whoever treats creation in this way attains that friendship. The article asks how someone whose religion is understood in these terms could cultivate enemies, and concludes that this spirit of Islam needs renewal today.