THE LEGACY AND INFLUENCE OF MAWLANA
AND THE MEVLEVIS AMONG MUSLIMS
Revered throughout the Islamic world, Rumi is also of course a spiritual figurehead to Muslims. The sources are replete with miraculous stories, but the simple realities are impressive enough. Mawlana is at the same time a sage, love’s madman, and a poet of supreme power and virtuosity.
In Turkey, Egypt, Syria and other lands of the Near East, the Mevlevi Order -- whose rules and organization were largely set down by Sultan Valad -- continued to thrive for centuries, gradu-ally acquiring a Turkish acculturation. The Mevlevis were especially influential in Ottoman Turkey; many important statesmen, ulema, and men of letters belonged to the Order. In some mosques, Mesnevihans were employed to chant the Mathnawi for the benefit of pious deceased Muslims who had left funds for the purpose. The Mevlevis became famous in Europe as the Whirling Dervishes; tourists were allowed into certain Mevlevihanes to witness the sema ritual. Sufi brotherhoods in the Republic of Turkey were outlawed by Atatürk, and although Mawlana’s tekke and tomb in Konya soon reopened as the “Mevlana Museum” the Order itself was driven underground, to be popularized towards the end of the twentieth century by Suleyman Hayati Dede, who initiated many Westerners. Several decades passed before the sema was performed again in public -- this time as a promotion of the Konya Tourist Board and as a professional touring outfit. Whatever the circumstances, the ceremony never fails to move spectators.

In Persian-speaking and -reading lands, the Mathnawi was cherished and revered, and (as with other poetical masterpieces) a great many ordinary working people did and do study and cherish the work, learning parts by heart. The Diwan was mostly the province of dervishes who sang it in their sessions of sema (musical remembrance of God), until in modern times it finally entered the purview of Iranian literary scholarship. Above all, though, it is the wisdom in Rumi’s teachings that is most prized among Muslims. His predecessors among didactic Persian Sufi poets, Sana’i and ‘Attar, were giants. No one, however, has rivalled Rumi in accessibility and universal appeal. In the next section we shall look at a few passages from his writings.

THE NATURE OF REALITY: THE INSIDE STORY
ACCORDING TO MAWLANA (MATHNAWI TEXTS)
One of the Mawlana Rumi’s exceptional qualities is the facility with which he resolves some of the thornier problems of dualities. For those perplexed as to the relation between such alternatives as predestination (qadar, jabr) and freewill (ikhtiyar), outer form (surat) and inner reality (ma‘ni), meditation (fikr) and invocation (dhikr); and for those fearful of life’s inevitable hardships and of death, there are words of pro-found, non-simplistic wisdom that bring solace and enlightenment.

A keynote of Rumi’s thought is that on the level of ultimate truth (haqiqa) the appearance of individual existences apart from Allah Most High is illusory (see e.g. Mathnawi I, 1783–8). Attachment to our customary sensory perception things stops us seeing them as they truly are:

my advice: the body’s a powerful bond.
Rid yourself of the old, if you want something
new …
This realm of not-being looks like real Being
and that realm of real Being is very concealed …
Eyes that are of dust look upon what is dust;
eyes that see the ether are another kind.
(Mathnawi, II, 1270, 1280, 1284; cf. V, 1026-43).

Allah Most High is always with us:

For the King whom they failed to plainly see
was invisibly with them their whole lives through—–
just as reason’s the governor of your body
though your vision’s too weak to perceive
it so.
Is it any wonder that reason’s Creator
is also with you, while you are unaware? …
There’s no creature that is not connected to Him,
though that link defies all description,
my friend.
(Mathnawi IV, 3677–80, 3695).

Seeing things as they truly are involves breaking through one’s normal perception of the world of forms to see the Reality and the meaning that informs them (Mathnawi, III 578–80). “Man is an immense volume; within him all things are written; but veils and darknesses do not allow him to read that knowledge within himself … Consider when these darknesses and veils are removed, how then he will be apprised and what varieties of knowledge he will discover within him!” (Discourses, tr. Arberry, pp. 61-2). The spiritual Path is also the means to discover one’s true self behind the layers of pretence and illusion (Mathnawi VI, 3774–6):

This apparent “you” which you take to be you
is dimension-bound, while you’re beyond dimensions.
Your true you is buried inside something else.
I’m the slave of the man who can see his true self.
He is you—–not this “you”, but the you
that is waiting and will emerge in the end.

Lastly what you get, here and Hereafter, is what you give: “This world is like a mountain, and all you say / comes back to you, carried by the echo.” (Mathnawi II, 2188).

ASPECTS OF THE SPIRITUAL STRUGGLE
AND REALIZATION
It will by now be apparent that Jalal al-Din Rumi does not favour simplistic solutions or wishful thinking. Nor, again, does he offer a systematic philosophy. Anyone who knows his writings will have his or her own favourite passages. What follows is a small selection, covering just a handful of themes.

The importance of sorting out one’s priorities in life is illustrated in a story about a self-important specialist in grammar who sits down in a boat and asks the boatman whether he has ever studied grammar. “No” comes the reply. “Then half your life has gone to waste!” the grammarian exclaims. Both men are silent, until suddenly the vessel begins to founder in a whirlpool. “Have you ever learned to swim, good sir?” enquires the boatman. “Never,” his passenger replies.” “Then the whole of your life has gone to waste!” says the other. “We’re sinking.” (Mathnawi I, 2835-42)

Rumi adds this commentary:

Once you’ve died to your mortal attributes,
the Sea of Mysteries will bear you on its crown.
O you who once called everybody an ass,
this time round you are left like an ass on the ice!
You might be the world’s top scholar in this time;
but see how they perish, this world and this time!
(Mathnawi I, 2843–5).

We are all heading for the Next World, in which meanings take form; in this world, we are all liable to find ourselves in mortal peril, spiritually or physically. Hence it is vital, while still alive, to learn to swim: that is, to make progress in the world of inner meaning.
The approach to zuhd, detachment from worldly things, advocated by Mawlana (who had ample experience) entails finding a healthy balance rather than going to extremes. Essen-tially this means making worldly goods a means rather than an end. To continue with the aquatic theme: “Water inside the boat spells destruction / the water beneath the boat supports it.” (Mathnawi I, 985).
Success in achieving this balance requires that one overcome the nafs, the ego -- not by crushing it but by understanding its nature and its ways; by training it; and by learning how to make it serve one instead of serving it. For most of us, this involves a struggle.

You too are bad to others outwardly,
and inwardly kind to your precious ego.
It is truly your enemy, yet you feed it candy
while outwardly thinking the worst of everyone.
You’re blind and blindhearted, just like Pharaoh:
kind to enemies, humiliating the innocent.
(Mathnawi IV, 1918–2019).

This is all the more essential because the nafs steals the goodness from us without our even noticing. That means attention to priorities again:

We keep putting wheat into this granary,
then losing the wheat that’s accumulated.
We don’t use our minds to work it out:
that the lost corn is due to a mouse’s tricks.
A mouse has bored its way into our granary,
and thanks to its tricks our store has been ruined.
Dear friend, first get rid of this mouse-pest
-- and then get excited about collecting wheat!
(Mathnawi I, 377, 3798–80).

This call to become spiritually active rather than passive is characteristic. It is easier to show determination once we understand that troubles come to teach and remind us that this world of misadventure and mediocrity is not our true home (Mathnawi III, 413–58).

In times of pain or death you turn that way
[towards God];
why are you ignorant when your pain ’is gone?
When trials come you start invoking God;
when they are gone you ask “Which way from here?”
This comes about because he who knows God
without a doubt’s forever set on Him.
But he who’s veiled by reason and by doubts
is sometimes hidden, sometimes wild, distraught.
Partial reason’s sometimes on top, sometimes below;
Universal Reason is immune to all disaster.
Sell Reason. Buy Bewilderment instead.
Go to abasement, son, not to Bukhara.
(Mathnawi III, 1141–6)

Here “Bukhara” represents the material world or the realm of formal learning. The way to draw near to God lies not through becoming something or going somewhere, but through “becom- ing not”, as it were: admitting one’s existential poverty so that the Divine Qualities may mercifully cover one’s own—–What our Lord looks for in us is a needy, contrite heart.

I look at you through those who have [great] hearts,
not at prostration marks, or gifts of gold …
O rich man, you may bring a hundred sacks;
but God will say, “Bent man, bring me your heart!
If your heart’s pleased with you then I am pleased.
If it’s against you, I’m against you too.
It’s not you that I look at, but your heart.
Beloved, bring that as your gift to My door.”
(Mathnawi V, 870, 881–3)

Generosity towards our fellow humans involves being a friend, a well-wisher, to one and all. The people you help may turn out to be Awliya’ Allah, the Friends of God (Mathnawi II, 2141–9).

To sum up: be a friend to everyone:
fashion friends out of stone, like an idol-sculptor.
Since you don’t have eyes that perceive the Inward,
presume that all beings contain some treasure.” (Mathnawi II, 2150, 2155).

The power of repentance -- another essential of the Path -- is illustrated by a story of the Caliph Mu‘awiya and the ritual prayer that he almost missed, the penitence for which would have brought him more benefit than the prayer he actually performed on time (Mathnawi II 2604-2792).
The need for patient endurance on the path and submission to the sheikh is illustrated by a charming image of a housewife cooking chick-peas in a pot and explaining how this ordeal is necessary so that they may come joyfully to maturity in a palatable form (Mathnawi, III 4159–4211). On the other hand, vigilance is called for in moments of success or happiness, lest the blessing be lost (Mathnawi IV 2145–53).

The Holy Qur’an (20:14, 29:45) specifies that
the daily prayers are to be instituted for the sake of remembering Allah. Hence acts of worship devoid of presence of heart are of little value.
As Sheikh Ibn ‘Ata’Illah al-Iskandari puts it, “Actions are static forms; it is sincerity that puts the spirit (or life) into them.” (al-Hikam al-‘Ata’-iyya, [10]). Sufis believe that a spiritual method- ology is essential if our worship is to be sincere. Faith increases and decreases, and has to be nourished.

Someone asked what there was that was superior to prayer. One answer is what I have already said, that the “soul” of prayer is better than prayer, as I then explained. The second answer is that faith is better than prayer. Prayer consists of five times’ performance, whereas faith is continuous. (Discourses, tr. Arberry, p. 43).

Those travelling the Path must fully submit to the guidance of a living Sheikh:

Once you’ve chosen a sheikh, don’t be feeble- hearted;
don’t be weak and crumbly like water and earth.
And if every blow gets you full of anger—–
unless burnished, how can you become a mirror? (Mathnawi I, 2979–80)

To show that there is “no gain without pain”, Mawlana tells the following tale (Mathnawi I, 2981–3001). The strongmen of Qazvin in Iran were accustomed to have themselves tattooed. One customer asks for a lion to be emblazoned on his shoulder. The tattooist starts work on
the lion’s tail; but the pain is too much for his customer, who insists that the tail be left out. The same happens when the tattooist begins to draw an ear, and again with the lion’s belly. Enraged and at a loss, the artist flings down the needle: “Whoever saw a lion with no tail, head or belly? God Himself never created such a lion!”

Rumi comments, stressing the need to leave our “comfort zone” behind (Mathnawi I, 3002, 3009–12):

Brother, bear the pain of the needle to escape
the pain your fire-worshipping ego inflicts …
What does learning God’s Unity really mean?
To burn your self up in the presence of the One.
If you wish to shine as bright as daylight
then burn up your self, which is dark as night.
Cultivate your existence in the Truly Existent;
melt away like copper in the Elixir.
You have both hands clamped onto “I” and “We”.
All this spiritual ruin stems from these two.

FINALE
We have travelled swiftly over a vast landscape, pausing briefly to take in a few special beauty spots and landmarks. In conclusion, perhaps the most vital message from Rumi is that the purpose of human existence can only be fulfilled by those who seek to transcend their lower selves.

It is through sacrifice, in the highest sense of recognizing everything as coming from and belonging to God, that we can “get a life” in this world, achieve an inward “Islamic state,” and gain everlasting joy Hereafter. This points to the uniqueness of the true human purpose: to know and serve Allah Most High. What, if anything can make this not only possible but easy? Simply this: to be in love with Him.

Since [God] is beyond all, better than all, nobler than all, and subtler than all, how could He be desired for the sake of something lesser? So “to Him is the final end.[cf. Qur’an 53:42]”.Once they have reached Him they have reached their complete goal, which cannot be surpassed, This human soul is a place of doubts and difficulties. It can never be rid of doubt and difficulties by any means unless it truly falls in love. Then all its doubts and difficulties vanish.” (Fihi ma fihi, ed. Furuzanfar, p.101; cf. Discourses, tr. Arberry
p.112–3).

[About the Author]


Muhammad Isa Waley is Curator of Persian and Turkish Collections at the British Library, London. He has a doctorate in Persian Literature from the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, his thesis being a critical edition and annotated translation of the stanzaic poems (Tarji‘at) of Jalal al-Din Rumi. He has published a number of articles on mediaeval Sufi literature and on Islamic manuscript studies.