Mayeur-Jaouen/Papas (eds.)
Family Portraits with Saints

ISLAMKUNDLICHE UNTERSUCHUNGEN • BAND 317
begründet
von Klaus Schwarz
herausgegeben
von Gerd Winkelhane

ISLAMKUNDLICHE UNTERSUCHUNGEN • BAND 317

Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen & Alexandre Papas (eds.)

Family Portraits with Saints
Hagiography, Sanctity, and Family in the Muslim World

Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliohek
The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication
in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data
are available in the internet at http://dnb.dnb.de

Cover Illustration:
A family of Ahl-i Haqq dervishes
Possibly by Antoin Sevruguin. Iran, late 19th–early 20th century

www.klaus-schwarz-verlag.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised
in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means,
now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and
recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publishers.

© 2014 by Klaus Schwarz Verlag GmbH Berlin
First Edition
Producer: J2P Berlin
Printed in Germany on chlorine-free bleached paper
ISBN 978-3-87997-422-1

Table of Contents

Introduction
Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen & Alexandre Papas...................................................7

1. HOLY MODELS FOR FAMILY SCENE
Denis Gril
Le Prophète en famille..........................................................................................27
Avner Giladi
Les enfants qu’ils étaient : récits d’enfance merveilleuse
dans Anbāʾ nujabāʾ al-abnāʾ d’Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī et leur valeur
comme source historique.....................................................................................73
Kazuo Morimoto
The Prophet’s Family as the Perennial Source of Saintly Scholars:
Al-Samhūdī on ʿilm and nasab ........................................................................106
Esther Peskes
Sainthood as Patrimony: ʿAbd Allāh al-ʿAydarūs (d. 1461)
and his Descendants............................................................................................125

2. BROTHERHOOD AND FAMILYHOOD
Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen
Nasab, Baraka, and Land: Hagiographic and Family Memory
entwined in the Egyptian Brotherhood of Sharnūbiyya,
from the Fourteenth Century until Today....................................................159
Rachida Chih
Shurafāʾ and Sufis: the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya
in Contemporary Morocco................................................................................198
Mojan Membrado
Ahl-i Haqq Consecrated Families (khāndān)................................................220

3. THE FATHERS
Francesco Chiabotti
ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī (d. 465/1072), Family Ties
and Transmission in Nishapur’s Sufi Milieu
during the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries.....................................................255
Alberto Fabio Ambrosio
“The Son is the Secret of the Father”: Rūmī, Sultān Veled
and the Strategy of Family Feelings................................................................308
Michel Boivin
The Saint as Ancestor in some Sufi and Ismaili Communities
of the Sindhi Area................................................................................................327

4. WIVES, MOTHERS, AND GRANDMOTHERS
Nelly Amri
Portrait d’un saint d’Ifrīqīya dans sa famille ou l’épouse
comme source pour l’hagiographe..................................................................343
Manuela Marín
Women and Kinship in Medieval Moroccan Hagiography:
a Study of al-Bādisī’s al-Maqsad al-sharīf
(Eighth/Fourteenth Century)............................................................................394
Alexandre Papas
The Son of his Mother:
Qalandarī Celibacy and the “Destruction” of Family..................................420
Selective General Bibliography........................................................................445
List of Contributors.............................................................................................455
Thematic Index.....................................................................................................458

Introduction

Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen & Alexandre Papas
The shaykh poses in front of the camera with his family. He is seated, wear ing a long dark robe. On his right, two adult men are standing; they look
like him, with the similar features of a careful education: the solemn deport ment, the clothes, the hat, the beard, and all that we do not see – spiritual
heritage, legacy of religious knowledge, and the political burden of the ancestral chief. Are they brothers, elder sons, nephews, or sons-in-law of the
shaykh? In any case, they belong to a family which is conscious of itself.
Their birth assigns them particular duties within society, and within their
religious group. On the left side of the shaykh, we note two women who are
probably his daughters as it is unlikely that his wives came to pose. Sitting
on the floor, a young man already bearded, apparently a son of the shaykh,
has the same features as those of his elders. However his position conveys
his youth and the humility required of the youngest child. Next to the
shaykh, a child appears with his tender and expressive face, leaning confidently on his father. Our cover photograph presents a particular family,
1
caught in a particular moment. It leads us to extend the investigation to
other shaykhs’ families, other families of saints, in other places, in other
times.
Let us start with a few simple observations. First, biographies of saints
represent one of the main sources of information for the history of the family in the Muslim world. Second, Muslim saints were generally husbands
and fathers, even though celibacy always remained an option sometimes
taken by those saints who contravened the general norm – qalandars, majādhīb, etc. As early as the eleventh century, families of Muslim saints, from
fathers to sons or from uncles to nephews, emerged, much as the families of
the‘ulamā’: in these small “dynasties of knowledge and charisma,” of whom
some existed for long centuries, family members transmitted hadiths, Sufi
affiliation, initiatory chains, but also land, goods and properties. Often the
family archives themselves, when there are any – whether genealogies, certificates of pious endowments, tombstone inscriptions, judicial documents –
1

On this shaykh, see Mojan Membrado’s article in this volume. This is probably
Mīrzā Khodā Qoli, an Ahl-i Haqq seyyed from Kelārdasht in Iran. He was a khalīfa
belonging to the Ātash Bagi family, and was Vladimir Minorsky’s main informant in
1902.

7

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

refer to the hereditary transmission of charisma and sanctity. Even in the
realm of legends or ancient myths, the saint patron of the “tribe,” of the
brotherhood, or of the village, the city, was not only a founding saint but an
ancestor saint. If necessary, he became an Islamizing saint, justifying the
conversion to Islam of a community or an entire region. Among the Muslims of Hindu origin in the Indian Subcontinent, the figure of the mediating
saint, whether a Shi‘ite imam or a Sufi saint, is represented as a substitute of
the ancestors (see Michel Boivin’s contribution). Things get more complicated when, in Sindh for instance, the Rajputs descending from divine ancestors became a Muslim people, or when the Ismaili Khojas arrived in Sindh
during the nineteenth century and venerated the imams as avatars of ancestor Gods.
Such a tendency towards hereditary sanctity increased considerably in
the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries throughout the Muslim world, with
the proliferation of descendants of the Prophet (ashrāf). Not all descendants
of Muhammad were considered saints, but it was from among them that
most Muslim saints emerged. These heirs of the Prophet formed an important part of the great families in the Ottoman era, even into the contemporary period, although their power relied on many additional sources for legitimation. In other words, it seems impossible to explore the history of the
family in the Muslim world without resorting to the hagiographical materials and to the analysis of saint veneration; conversely, it would be inconceivable to read the hagiographies without considering the history of family.

Definitions and Models
Family is difficult to define. The available vocabulary wanders among numerous words, many of them themselves polysemic. The current Arabic
terms (usra and ‘ā’ila) are – in the modern sense of “family” – recent forgeries to designate new realities or modern ideals, and to translate the modern
Western concept: usra stresses the links which unite, while ‘ā’ila underlines
the responsibility of the family’s father, in charge of supporting his own. In
the hadith we find the word ‘iyāl, built on the same root than ‘ā’ila, which
named the various dependents of the father – women, children, servants,
slaves. When the Arab chroniclers of the Ottoman period used the term ‘īla
(dialectal form of ‘ā’ila), it meant the same as bayt, i.e. a Mamluk group or
faction whose members were linked by patron-freed relationships as well as
2
family ties. Usra and ‘ā’ila do not appear in the ancient sources, at least not
2

David Ayalon, “Studies in al-Jabartī. Notes on the Transformation of Mamluk Socie-

8

INTRODUCTION

in the modern meaning of “family”. Instead, the hadith collections exploited
a lexis centred on the concept of kinship which was the main form of social
organization. The classical Arab authors elaborated on different terms of
kinship in lexicographical treatises, dictionaries and encyclopedias.
Nasab (patrilineal consanguinity, which nevertheless can be translated
by different words: genealogy, filiation, even patronymic name, depending
on the context); sihr and musāhara (affinity, alliance); qarāba (kinship, prox3
imity); āl or ahl (people, household constituted by relatives connected to a
common ancestor, such as the Ahl al-bayt, the People of the House of the
Prophet); rahīm (matrix, the feminine pole) as opposed to sulb (“kidney,” the
masculine pole); and several terms (qabīla, ‘ashīra) which are imperfectly
translated by “tribe”. The word shī‘a itself designated a family group prior to
the “party” of ‘Alī. A study of Arabic dialects or of Persian and Turkic us ages would introduce other words to this list, such as the Palestinian
hamūla, a patronymic association which presents itself in terms of patrilineality whereas it actually encompasses neighbourly, friendly or patronage
ties. The Arabic qawm is used in Central Asia and India in a very flexible
4
way, and tā’ifa or tāyefe in the Persian pronunciation, corresponds to the
basic kinship group, adopting patrilineality in theory but bilineality in prac-

3
4

ty in Egypt under the Ottomans,” in Studies on the Mamluks of Egypt: 1250–1517,
London, Variorum Reprints, 1977, p. 291 and 297. On bayt, see Kenneth M. Cuno,
“The Reproduction of Elite Households in Eighteenth Century Egypt: Two Examples
from al-Mansūra,” in Brigitte Marino, ed., Études sur les villes du Proche-Orient, XVIXIXe siècle. Hommage à André Raymond, Damascus, Institut Français d’Etudes
Arabes de Damas, 2001, pp. 245-250 and Jane Hathaway, The Politics of Households in
Ottoman Egypt. The Rise of the Qazdaghlis, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press,
1997, pp. 17-21. This last study, focused on military households, should be complemented by the recent work of Pascale Ghazaleh on the households of civil elite: Fortunes et stratégies sociales. Généalogies patrimoniales au Caire 1780–1830, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, 2 vol.
For an anthropological study on qarāba in contemporary Morocco, see Dale F. Eickelman, Moroccan Islam: Tradition and Society in a Pilgrimage Center, Modern Middle
East Series 1, Austin-London, University of Texas Press, 1976, pp. 95-105 and 183-210.
Neither hamūla nor qawm (too often translated by “ethny”) are groups simply defined by the agnatic lineage: In both cases, anthropological fieldworks showed that,
even when people are conscious of the, sometimes, forged character of the patrilineal lineages, they create larger relationships based on the idea of a common agnatic
ancestor. On hamūla – a complex network of relations which goes beyond patrilineal lineage, blood and marriage –, see Abner Cohen, Arab Border Villages in
Israel, Manchester, Manchester University Press, 1965. On qawm, see Nikolai A.
Kisliakov, Ocherki po istorii sem’i i braka u narodov srednei azii i kazakhstana, StPetersburg, Nauka, 1969, pp. 32-34 passim, and Pierre Centlivres, Un bazar en Asie
centrale. Forme et organisation du bazar de Tâshqurghân (Afghanistan), Neuchâtel,
Université de Neuchâtel, 1970, pp. 158-159 passim.

9

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS
5

tice. It is from the Arabic word ‘asaba (agnates, male relatives on the paternal side) that comes from the well-known ‘asabiyya, a tendency towards
solidary grouping described by Ibn Khaldūn in the fourteenth century who
seems to suggest that the cultural construction underlying ‘asabiyya and the
solidarity it implies were not primarily based on consanguinity.
The family name is also problematic. Strictly speaking, there is no family name in the Arabic, Persian or Turkic onomastics since only a series of
personal names are employed (ism) including the individual within a patrilineal filiation – keystone of the family structure: Ahmad b. Muhammad b.
Mahmūd is the son of Muhammad, grandson of Mahmūd, etc. The name can
be attached to various surnames, titles, origins and functions, which would
6
sometimes, in the case of eminent families, become “family names.” Such is
the case in our families of saints, known by a name issued from a “reference
name” (reference to a place, a profession, or any particularity). This reference name, which eventually designates a family, is close to the Sufi terminology which names a Sufi order. Would the Qushayriyya, here studied by
Francesco Chiabotti, name the descendants of Qushayrī or the group formed
by his disciples? Would the Awlād al-shaykh Farrān (literally the Children
of Shaykh Farrān) in fourteenth century Egypt, designate his descendants,
his disciples or both?
The recurrent issue of genealogies refers to the question of “family
names”. Today, the Egyptian Sharnūbīs are members of a family, descendants of one ancestor, but also members of the Sufi brotherhood founded by
this same ancestor. The reference name, Sharnūbī, also designates the
purely geographical origin, when applied to the natives of Sharnūb. The
choice of the ancestor is no less delicate, as explained by Rachida Chih regarding the Moroccan Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya order, where shaykhs also
form a family: among the Būdshīshīs, would the main ancestor be the
eponymous shaykh of the eighteenth century, or the one who, under anoth5
6

For a both detailed and subtle analysis, see Anne-Sophie Vivier, Afzâd. Ethnologie
d’un village d’Iran, Paris, Peeters-Bibliothèque Iranienne 63, 2006, pp. 196-214.
See Jacqueline Sublet, Le voile du nom. Essai sur le nom propre arabe, Paris, Puf, 1991.
See also several recent works by Olivier Bouquet on family names and genealogies
among the Ottomans: “Comment les grandes familles ottomanes ont découvert la
généalogie,” Cahiers de la Méditerranée, 82, 2011, pp. 297-324; “Onomasticon Ottomanicum : identification administrative et désignation sociale dans l’État ottoman
du XIXe siècle,” Revue des mondes musulmans et de la Méditerranée, 127, 2010, pp.
213-234 and “Onomasticon Ottomanicum II : Le voile de l’identité,” in Nathalie
Clayer and Erdal Kaynar, eds., Penser, agir et vivre dans l’Empire ottoman et en
Turquie. Études réunies pour François Georgeon, Paris, Peeters, 2013, pp. 283-306.

10

INTRODUCTION

er name, came from Irak in the seventeenth century, or rather the one who
changed the settlement of the zāwiya in the nineteenth century? They seem
to need, at each stage, a holy man to take over from the ancestor and exemplify his legacy, as Sīdī Hamza had done, the “reviver” of the Būdshīshiyya
in the twentieth century. Such an oscillation between familyhood and brotherhood, between the ancestor and the acting saint, previously analysed in
the case of the powerful Gīlānī descendants of the Bagdad saint ‘Abd al7
Qādir al-Gīlānī, remains a field for further research.
If it is not easy to define family, it is no less difficult to define sanctity in
Islam as it is subjected to an extremely diversified terminology and typology. Prophets, Companions of the Prophet, martyrs of the conquest, glorious and mythical figures from early Islam, imams and Alids, pious scholars
and ascetics, local dynasts transformed in holy men… The variety of saints
venerated during the first centuries of Islam drew from different models and
heritages. From the twelfth and especially thirteen centuries, both the
Prophetic model and Sufism provided the main references to Muslim saints
and to their hagiographers. Until the contemporary period, Sufi shaykhs of
newly created orders formed the majority of the crowd of saints, including
their families, following the principle of hereditary sanctity of ancient practice. It is therefore not surprizing that these saintly families promoted explicitly the heritage (wirātha) of a symbolic capital, much in line with the heritage of prophets and scholars.
Pursuing our quest for definitions, from Morocco to Xinjiang, from the
seventh to the twenty first century, what would be the commonalities
between the various families presented here? Can we find comparable elements between all these families of Muslim saints? The question refers more
generally to the relevance of the Islamic context in the study of the history
of family, which obviously depends on many non-religious factors, whether
demographic, social, economic, etc. When we observe these models of family in the hagiographies, are they primarily and essentially Muslim? To what
extent, for example, was the Qushayrī family, allies of Nishapur’s dihqān
8
landlords, a tributary of the pre-Islamic Iranian families? Would the great
lineages of scholars transmitting hadith be the Islamic equivalent of the
7
8

See the numerous articles in the special double issue on the Qādiriyya order of the
Journal of the History of Sufism, 1-2, 2000.
A link between Central Asian dihqāns and the pre-Islamic elites is also suggested
by Ashirbek Muminov, “Dihqāns and sacred families in Central Asia,” in Kazuo
Morimoto, ed., Sayyids and Sharifs in Muslim Societies. The Living Links to the
Prophet, London-New York, Routledge, 2012, pp. 198-209.

11

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

families of rabbinic Judaism? With regard to the role of the maternal uncle
in many biographies of saints, here mentioned by F. Chiabotti, this would be
comparable to the role of the maternal uncle in the education of the young
knight in the Middle Ages, highlighted by Georges Duby. However, here Islam appears as a constant reference, amplified by the sacred law and the
Prophet’s exemplary nature. To sum up, “The extreme diversity of Muslim
families through history is oriented in four main directions imposed by the
normative Islamic texts: the patrilineal filiation; the paternal power (or pat9
riarchy maybe), which is quite extended; the systematic asymmetry between men and women; and the idea that the raison d’être of the family is
procreation (perhaps a kind of natalist ideology). None of these features is
proper to Islam; they probably come from the tribal system and are shared
by other pre-Islamic or non-Islamic societies. Yet all of them have been endorsed, even reinforced, by the Islamic law. There is little doubt that the
10
pivot of the whole structure is nothing but the patrilineal filiation.”
Such an affiliation seems to have been reinforced not only by the law
but by the transmission of knowledge and sanctity from men to men. However women could actually play a significant role in the transmission of
hadiths and were able to display baraka (see Denis Gril’s article in this
volume). A married woman always belonged to two families at least, that of
her father and that of her husband. If she was born into a family of saints or
reknown ‘ulamā’, her fate was sealed. In Morocco or India, women from
great religious families, the female descendants of the Prophet in particular,
were submitted to a much firmer control of their behaviour, their dress and
a strict separation from the male realm. Some almost never left their homes
during their lifetime. However this did not prevent them from playing a social role, thanks to their goods and pious endowments, and from exercising
power. The distinction between family and sanctity combines different processes according to the status of women, which differs from time to time
and one place to another, whether in Subsaharan Africa, Indonesia or the
Malay world. In the contemporary period, the role of women increased: several examples are cited in our book, such as the holy daughter of an Iranian
9

Which would translate original terms like the Persian-Tajik kalāntar-i khāna (literally “the highest of the house”, i.e. the patriarch), see N.A. Kisliakov, Ocherki po istorii sem’i, p. 18.
10 For more details, see Mohammed Hocine Benkheira, Avner Giladi, Catherine
Mayeur-Jaouen and Jacqueline Sublet, La Famille en islam d’après les sources arabes,
Paris, Les Indes savantes, 2013, introduction. A chapter of the book, entitled “Portraits de familles avec saints” deals with the topic of the present volume.

12

INTRODUCTION

shaykh, Malek Jān (d. 1993), or the daughter of the shaykh Sharnūbī, whose
portrait figures besides the picture of her father and brother in the tomb.
Perhaps this is due to the legal changes in the feminine condition in Muslim
countries and elsewhere; or this is linked to globalization, especially in Turkey and Indonesia where the process is very visible; perhaps this is the reappearance of a role which has always existed, but about which our sources
said nothing. We think, for instance, of the case of Lallā Zaynab (circa 1850–
1904) in colonial Algeria, who was a shaykha of the Rahmāniyya order. Pious and educated, she remained unmarried and became the head of the ElHamel zāwiya after having struggled against her first cousin to establish
11
herself as the legitimate leader.
Yet membership in a lineage, the sense of belonging to the group, does
not explain everything in the making of saints. How the individual is
defined in relation to holiness is decisive too. The route of sainthood, within
the group or the society, is that of a singular person, who could even be an
outcast, as was the Prophet himself in a sense. The autobiographies or autohagiographies show the presence of such individuals, almost at each period
of history, with a clear increase, though, from the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries onwards. We saw previously that, for the Būdshīshīs, each
holy family needed periodically a sacral “reloading” to supply its capital of
sanctity. A large number of sons allowed for a versatility in which individuals could display a lesser or greater aura of sanctity. For example, the four
sons of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs (d. 1461) founded their own distinct lineage
and experienced different destinies (see Esther Peskes’ article in this
volume). In a sense, saintly lineages had no flexibility.
All these family histories lay within a demographical framework that
should not be overlooked. From this respect, it is important to remember
that the very high rate of mortality of the period had a strong impact on the
evolution of our families of saints, threatening constantly the very family
and what members wished to transmit – books, goods, initiatory teachings,
charisma. The necessity of filial piety (birr al-wālidayn), which was a social
as well as religious norm, appeared obvious. No risk in transmission could
be taken. Hence the importance of ancestors, names, and any continuity,
even reconstructed ones. No rupture in memory was acceptable, since oral
11 Julia Clancy-Smith, “The House of Zainab: Female Authority and Saintly Succession
in Colonial Algeria,” in Nikki R. Keddie and Beth Baron, eds., Women in Middle Eastern History. Shifting Boundaries in Sex and Gender, New Haven, Yale University
Press, 1993, pp. 254-274.

13

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

remembrance could be lost in only three generations. It is then not fortitious
that, often, the grandson was in charge of writing the hagiography of the
grandfather.
It is a collective, shared memory that constitutes the family as well as
the Sufi lineage, recollecting their past from the beginning. Quite expectedly, any holy family gave to itself an origin narrative: in her contribution,
Mojan Membrado discusses the case of Soltān Sahāk who would have selected seven families from which he drew the pīrs of the Ahl-i Haqq. But here
again, risks and doubts raised about the descendants could cause a fall from
the rank of sanctity. In that case, should one venerate the ascendancy rather
than the descendant? This is actually what the well-known medieval hagiographer Sha‘rānī suggested concerning the descendants of the Prophet and
12
the offspring of saints. The saintly origin could also be threatened either
by a death which put an end to the lineage, or by the contestation of the
geneaology (nasab). The associations of ashrāf had, and still have in some
countries, the mission to check the claims of the descendants of the Prophet,
in a context of multiplication of falsified genealogies, i.e. the mutasayyid
13
(false claimants to membership of the Prophet’s family). Some newly-arrived candidates for such origin, like Abū al-Hudā al-Sayyādī (d. 1909), could
be accepted here (in this case, Istanbul) but rejected there (in Aleppo, where
the local aristocracy never recognised him). Both his genealogy (nasab) and
14
his Sufi pedigree (silsila) had been contested. It happened that the very
validity of a social superiority based on birth rather than merit had been
questioned: a controversy about how to know if Muslim saints were descended from Muhammad or not led the Sufi scholar Yūsuf al-Nabhānī (d. 1932)
15
to take up his pen around 1880.
Concerning the phases after birth, that is to say the education of children and family life, we find models which intertwined inextricably Islamic
12 Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, “Le saint musulman en père de famille,” in Nelly Amri
and Denis Gril, eds., Saint et sainteté. Le regard des sciences de l’homme, colloque de
Tunis, 1-6 mai 2005, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose-MMSH, 2008, pp. 249-267.
13 Ruya Kilic, “Sayyids and Sharifs in the Ottoman State: on the Borders of the True
and the False,” The Muslim World, 96, 2006, pp. 21-35.
14 Thomas Eich, Abu l-Huda al-Sayyadi : eine Studie zur Instrumentalisierung sufischer
Netzwerke und genealogischer Kontroversen im spätosmanischen Reich, Berlin, Klaus
Schwarz, 2003.
15 Josef Dreher, “A Collection of Theological and Mystical Texts Describing the Person
of the Prophet Muhammad: the Jawāhir al-bihār fī fadā’il al-nabī al-mukhtār of Yūsuf b. Ismā‘īl al-Nabhānī (d. 1931),” in Rachida Chih, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and
Rüdiger Seesemann, eds., Sufism, Literary Production and Printing in the Nineteenth
Century, Würzburg, Ergon Verlag, forthcoming.

14

INTRODUCTION

elements with pre-Islamic elements. In the present book, Avner Giladi introduces a text of Muhammad Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī, a twelfth century author, on
the childhood of celebrated men. The work was a derivative of a Mirror for
Princes written by the same author, a medieval literary genre which owed a
lot to pre-Islamic Persian and Indian sources. The tales of childhood of great
kings of Persia, of pre-Islamic prophets, of Muhammad, his companions, and
his descendants, as well as the childhood of eminent Sufis, were all con voked to propose a model of education, the adab. In more recent hagiographies, the medieval saints and their families (or the absence of family)
emerged also as main figures for hagiographical paradigms.
The Prophet in family life, as described in hadith and Sīra, and discussed
at length by D. Gril in his contribution, became a major model as early as
the fourteenth-fifteenth centuries. His family, venerated widely, occupied a
central position: this was obviously the case for Shi‘ites but also for Sunnis,
16
as Muslim piety focused increasingly on the Prophet. The wives of
Muhammad, his daughter Fātima, his grand-sons, eventually his descendants and those of his cousin and son-in-law ‘Alī, all were used as models.
Thus, in India, the Ahl al-bayt proliferated from the nucleus formed by what
the Sindhis called the Panjtan Pāk, that is to say, the Prophet, Fātima, ‘Alī
and their two sons Hasan and Husayn (see M. Boivin’s paper). The “Five of
the Mantle,” as the Shi‘ites call them, are also venerated by the Sunnis: from
the fourteenth century, perhaps even before, numerous saints were supposed to be descended from Hasan or from Husayn. For others, like the
‘ālim Samhūdī in the late fifteenth century, the Ahl al-bayt had a much larger meaning: they were those who lived with the Prophet, those who were
linked to him by blood, those who shared a more ancient nasab. For instance, the Hāshimids and the Muttalibids (i.e. the descendants of the paternal great-grandfather of the Prophet, and the descendants of Hāshim’s
brother, Muttalib, the great-great-uncle of the Prophet) were also Ahl albayt, according to Samhūdī (see Kazuo Morimoto’s essay). For him too,
however, Hasanids and Husaynids occupied a central position.
The hagiography, which employs several models, starts with the imitation of the Prophet and his relatives in order to highlight behaviours, life
cycles, and personalities, that can be found in the Sīra: the miraculous preg16 A fine example of Sunni literature devoted to the agnatic kinship of the Prophet,
written in the thirteenth century, is al-Tabarī al-Makkī, Les trésors de la postérité, ou
Les fastes des proches parents du Prophète, ed. and transl. by Frédéric Bauden, Cairo,
Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2004.

15

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

nancy of the saint’s mother, the marvelous birth accompanied by signs, the
frequent figure of the holy orphan, the person of the mother (or the wet
nurse), and the four spouses. Nelly Amri shows in her contribution the
prominence of this topic of the Sīra in the hagiography composed by Dabbāgh, in medieval Ifrīqīya, but also the deviations from the model. The imitation of this model embodied more and more in real life. ‘Abd al-‘Azīz Dabbāgh – not to be confused with the aforementioned –, a famous Moroccan
saint of the seventeenth century, announced to a disciple the birth of his
blessed daughter and, at the subū‘ (a ceremony which occurs seven days
after birth) decided to give her the name of Khadīja “whereas the name did
not existed in our family before… but because the Prophet was happy with
Mother Khadīja and with her received the goods of this world and the oth17
er.” Any man guided by God, explained the shaykh, would look for a wife
named Khadīja. In other words, the girl was certain now to make a good
marriage, at least a marriage with a pious man. Piety was evolving toward
an increasing identification with the Prophet and his family.
In Shi‘ism, the reference is less the Prophet than the Imams, whose extended families gave rise to new and numerous models: in the same way
that Imams’ sisters were devoted to their brothers, the pious sisters were devoted to the saint; the bereaved father invoked Karbala where Husayn lost
his sons before passing away himself. The Imāmzādahs which replaced, in
Safavid Iran, the more ancient saints’ shrines were, supposedly, the tombs of
descendants, men as well as women, of Imams. Elsewhere, as we said
already, the descendants of the Prophet (ashrāf, shurafā’, sāda) formed distinct groups from which saints emerged, continuiting the Prophetic paradigm. The rituals performed around the Ahl al-bayt allow for reinventing
continuously these models (see M. Boivin’s contribution) based on numerous texts – hadiths, Sīra, legends, etc. – and by the celebration of ‘Ashūrā’.
For the Ahl-i Haqq, only the members of families of khāndān had the right
to perform rituals proper to Ahl-i Haqq. The shaykh who sits enthroned
within his family on the cover of our book had a major role in the jam ceremony and shared the blessed food (see M. Membrado’s article). Far from being recent inventions, rituals featuring the presence of shurafā’, along with
the reading of stories about Muhammad and his lineage, manifested the
18
Prophet’s “mystical body” in medieval and early modern Islam in Spain. To
17 Ibn Lamatī, Kitāb al-Ibrīz min kalam al-‘ārif bi-Llāh ta‘ālā Sīdī ‘Abd al-‘Azīz alDabbāgh, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 2006, pp. 54-55.
18 Mercedes García-Arenal, “Shurafā’ in the last years of al-Andalus and in the Morisco

16

INTRODUCTION

sum up, the ritual stages a textual paradigm of Muslim holy families, and recalls that sanctity is a collective adventure seeking to reach a canonic ideal.

The Familial Construction of Sanctity
If we look at our sources more closely, we note, as early as the eleventh century, numerous forms of transmission of sanctity within the family circle. If
texts reveal tensions between the group and the invididual, between the
family and the saint, it remains that the advent of sanctity occurs through
the transmission from father, i.e. master, to son, i.e. disciple. The familial
construction of sanctity appears as a major fact in Islam.
The hagiographical topoi set the family roles and their paradoxes. The
saint was first and foremost a son, sometimes an orphan, often at odds – at
least temporarily – with his father of whom he would be at the same time
the successor. The mother, more than the father, generally devoted and
tender-hearted, had a central place in the education of Muslim mystics. This
was specially the case as she herself came from a saintly lineage, heiress of
baraka and teachings of her own father. As Alexandre Papas points out in
his paper, the attachment of the son to his mother is a significant subject in
Islamic hagiography, and probably in every hagiographical tradition, although the saintly vocation could run against filial love and disrupt maternal love. Moreover, the saint may decide resolutely to not marry. In his con tribution, the same author shows that the celibacy promoted by Qalandarī
saints could deliberately lead to the “destruction” of families, which it saw
as the ultimate bond with the world. No doubt, suspicion toward marriage
and women, perceived as barriers on the Sufi path, was not limited to mar ginal groups. We find this in authors like Hujwirī and Ghazālī (d. 1111), recycling an old misogynous asceticism which was quite widespread in early
Sufism. However, it is likely that the efforts to differentiate from Christian
monachism on the one hand, and to apply the Sunna of the Prophet on the
other, progressively put an end to such tendencies, leading the great majority of shaykhs and saints to get married. The challenge continuously posed
by the Qalandars was all the more remarkable.
The Muslim saint was generally a husband, and his wives thus were
among the best sources for the hagiographer, such as Hafsa Umm ‘Umar,
the main informer of the hagiographer of her deceased holy husband (see N.
Amri’s article). Exhausted by demands of the Sufi community and overperiod. Laylat al-mawlid and genealogies of the Prophet Muḥammad,” in K.
Morimoto, ed., Sayyids and Sharifs in Muslim Societies, pp. 161-184.

17

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

whelmed by their husband’s sainthood, the wives of holy men were not necessarily holy women but they defended the right of the children and, more
generally, of the physical family against the excess of the spiritual family,
that is to say, the followers and disciples of the shaykh. Wives were also the
privileged witnesses of their husband’s miracles, sometimes unwillingly.
Whether a pious spouse, educated by a holy father or her husband himself,
or a terrible shrew putting to the test the saint’s forbearance, the wife played a key role.
Then came the children, habitually the sons. It was around them that
the relationships between the spiritual family and the physical family,
between the saint’s disciples and relatives were built up. The texts describe
frequently the dilemma between the shaykh as father and the father as
shaykh. The metaphor of the family was applied to disciples to whom the
shaykh was the real father and who were like sons to him. Here we encounter all the issues related to the hereditary transmission of charisma:
was the father firstly a father or a master for his son who was to succeed
him? Which son to choose when there were several who would be able to
succeed him? At which moment should the son become a disciple and the
designated successor? When Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs received the khirqa from
his father, two months before his death in 1461, was this the expected epilogue of the life of a son who had been a disciple since childhood (see E.
Peskes’ essay)? The importance of education, of nurture, was therefore intimately linked to nature, that is to say, in our context the baraka – a mysterious fluid coming from the ancestors –, since the acquired merit (hasab)
and the illustrious genealogy (nasab) did not oppose each other. The saint
father was looked upon as the educator, bringing his sons along in his
travels, teaching religion to orphans and poor children in addition to his
own progeny.
The need to maintain the family heritage favored the education of
daughters. By their marriages (more rarely, by the choice of celibacy), by
their selection of sons-in-law, by the possibility of uxorilocality where the
spouse prevailed, the saint’s daughters were involved in the family baraka
and the transmission of knowledge. The son-in-law disciple could replace
the shaykh father-in-law at the head of the family: Qushayrī succeeded to
his father-in-law Abū ‘Alī al-Daqqāq who himself had married the daughter
of a dihqān (see F. Chiabotti’s article). Fātima, daughter of Abū ‘Alī alDaqqāq, who became the wife of Qushayrī, played a fundamental role in the
transmission and had her name inscribed in the chains of transmission (as18

INTRODUCTION

ānīd). This marriage made Qushayrī the head of the household, absorbing
his wife’s family. Here we see how the families of saints applied the usual
patrilineal system but introduced alternative processes.
Around the saint, the family built up a religious capital made of knowledge and sanctity (see K. Morimoto’s contribution): a hagiographical (oral,
written and editorial) construction was carried out within the family, aware
of its legacy. Such legacy was associated to a particular place – khānaqāh,
zāwiya, madrasa – where the family was already well established – a city or
village neighbourhood that this household had contributed to preserve, to
extend, even to name. There, the family supported a nebula of clients, devouts and pilgrims. It had its own enclosures in the graveyard at the core of
which particularly venerated towns, those of the saints, punctuated a larger
group of graves where rested deceased disciples, devouts and servants, a
whole society in the saints’ entourage. The pious foundations (awqāf,
habbūs in Maghrib, rizaq in Egypt), which supplied the system, were carefully managed by the family and the descendants. Lands, endowments,
buildings, and alms were associated with networks of clients.
In the transmission of sanctity writing became critical, as did teaching.
For the family, the production of texts was important, and many were printed from the nineteenth century onward. The diffusion of knowledge was as
decisive as the ritual handing over of the khirqa. Writing the history of its
forefathers, even of ones own father, delivering praise to the holy ancestor
in a poem, and recalling the family genealogy were at the front of Sufi writing. All these practices were common among the great Sufi families. In her
study, Manuela Marín notes that, in the rural milieu of medieval Morocco,
women seemed to be the guardians of the genealogical tradition. In general,
brotherhoods, masters, lineages and fathers produced chains of transmission
(sanad, isnād). We also find numerous genealogical trees (shajara, nasabnāma), yet they were a way to start from the individual in order to get back
“upstream” and recall a legacy, rather than a way for the individual to go
down a list of names from an ancestor up to the present. Characteristic of
the contemporary period, modern States increasingly required evidence of
genealogical legitimacy and led the khāndān to publish their genealogical
trees in 2002 and the Sharnūbīs to set up their trees on computer programs.
The awareness of this heritage is tremendously high. Despite migrations, huge families would maintain links, and vitalize their heritage by returning to sources, that of the shrines, of the texts, of the masters. Several
chapters of this volume underline this raised consciousness (see N. Amri, A.
19

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Giladi, K. Morimoto). E. Peskes points out the usage of the expression “‘aydarūsī heritage” (mīrāth ‘aydarūsī) among one of her authors. The capital of
sanctity, baraka, sanad and isnād, silsila, lands and goods, books also: all
these had to be preserved. The predominance of Sharifism from the fifteenth
century, along with what has been called “maraboutisme”, complicated the
19
picture. Even though there is no difference between the miracles performed by descendants of the Prophets, the fact of being a sayyid favored
the reputation of sanctity. Descent from the Prophet was a way of belonging
to the social and religious elite, perhaps a way of creating a patriarchy too.
Yet, the interactions between the elite and sanctity were far from simple.
Our sources show the intensity of contestation in proportion to stakes of
power and charisma linked to a saintly and Prophetic ascendancy. Opposition probably existed against the conceptions of Samhūdī (d. 1506) who, at
the end of the fifteenth century in Medina, presented the ‘ulamā’ as saints of
God, and compared two kinds of nobility (fadl al-sharafayn), i.e. that of religious science (‘ilm) and that of Prophetic ascendancy (nasab). This was in
sharp contrast to, for instance, the definition of nobility given by ‘Alī himself and others who said: “nobility (sharaf) is derived only from knowledge
(‘ilm) and culture (adab), not from inherited merit (hasab) and lineage (na20
sab).” Samhūdī concluded that the family of the Prophet was the breeding
ground par excellence of the ‘ulamā’-awliyā’ (see K. Morimoto’s paper). In
that case, what about the ‘ulamā’ who were not descendants of the Prophet?
About a Būdshīsh shaykh, the hagiography asserts that “He (Sīdī al-‘Abbās) was the one who was a sharīf, and yet he treated others as if they were
shurfās”, a sign that all shaykhs did not act like him, giving rise to jealousy
and criticism when the ascendancy was doubtful or the descendant unworthy of his origins. Our sources allow unveiling cases of failure in the
claming of illustrious genealogy. Offshoot of a great Yemeni family, ‘Abd alRahmān al-‘Aydarūs failed to find in Cairo the position he hoped to obtain,
probably because of the Sufi local elite who had already cornered a signific ant share of the saintly market, such as the powerful Wafā’ family, them21
selves descendants of the Prophet. These families could extinguish them19 See Biancamaria Scarcia-Amoretti and Laura Bottini, eds., The Role of the sādāt/
ashrāf in Muslim History and Civilization, Oriente moderno, 18, 1999.
20 Quoted in Ahmad Ashraf and Ali Banuazizi, “Class system iv. Classes in Medieval
Islamic Persia,” Enc. Iranica, V, fasc. 6, pp. 658-667.
21 See Richard McGregor, Sanctity and Mysticism in Medieval Egypt: The Wafā’ Sufi Order and the Legacy of Ibn ‘Arabī, Albany, State University of New York Press, 2006;
Adam Sabra, “Household Sufism in Sixteenth-Century Egypt: the Rise of al-Sāda al-

20

INTRODUCTION

selves: it actually happened to the Wafā’ who were absorbed by the Bakrī,
another great Sufi lineage descending from the Prophet. Omnipresent death,
epidemics, plague, invasions, spoliations, disparition of descendance… All
these threats evoked in the hagiographies were not unknown to the saints.
The continuity they themselves embodied was a constant concern for the
great holy families.
At each generation, the family patrimony (lands, pious fondations, shrines, goods, books, etc.) had to be protected against the danger of time: the
decline of the Bā ‘Alawī shrines in Indonesia as well as the emergence of
new ideologies marked the rejection of social and religious authorities who
22
could no longer remain indisputable. Sometimes, as in Republican Turkey,
the holders of holy ascendancy had to use all kinds of strategies to adapt to
a new order and to maintain themselves among the social elite of a new
23
world. On the other hand, as in the case of the Sharnūbīs, the baraka of
saints remained the tie that held the family members together: where the
brotherhood stayed alive, where it kept making saints, the family remained
united.

The Saintly History of Family
The hagiographical sources do not only inform about the familial construction of sanctity, they also shed light on the history of the family in its most
concrete sense. Here again, as D. Gril shows, the hadiths represent early
sources of both information and inspiration: they feature many scenes of the
Prophet’s private life within his family, scenes which suggested a tangible
mode of sanctity based on simplicity, humanity, and resonance with everyone’s life. In a more historical vein, the hagiographies complement what we
learn from the court’s archives – increasingly studied for the Ottoman period – and from the waqf documents. Lastly, they are simply essential for the
study of the medieval epoch.
What was the size of our families? This is a difficult question which
raises again the problem of definition. They could be entire clans, such as
Bakrīya,” in Rachida Chih and Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, eds., Le soufisme à l’époque
ottoman / Sufism in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, pp. 101-118.
22 Engseng Ho, “Le don précieux de la généalogie,” in Pierre Bonte, ed., Emirs et présidents. Figures de la parenté et du politique dans le monde arabe, Paris, Editions du
CNRS, 2001, pp. 79-110; Engseng Ho, The Graves of Tarim: Genealogy and Mobility
across the Indian Ocean, Berkeley-Los Angeles, University of California Press, 2006.
23 The Social Practices of Kinship. A comparative study, European Journal of Turkish
Studies, thematic issue, 4, 2006, http://www.ejts.org/sommaire515.html

21

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS

the Sāda Bā ‘Alawī, of which the ‘Aydarūs were only a group where we find
various lineages. They included “nuclear” families: Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs’
father and mother attended the khirqa giving ritual for their son. We also
encounter in the hagiography the smaller scale of the couple, described in
its intimacy, such as the holy couple composed by al-Hakīm al-Tirmidhī (d.
932) and his wife who had special visions, or the less well-matched couple of
Ahmad b. ‘Ajība (d. 1809) and his bitter wife. The hagiographical discourse
was largely contructed and therefore artificial, but still the texts presented a
great variety of families: nuclear and extended families, monogamous and
polygamous, as in al-Dabbāgh’s work from which N. Amri analysed the successive marriages of the saint.
Our hagiographies provide us with many data on the relationships
between the saint and his brothers, and more generally between the collateral lineages, where endogamy was largely practised. The uncles played a
crucial role in the lives of holy nephews, as among the Būdshīshīs (see R.
Chih’s contribution). The household included the saint’s servant who could
enjoy a kind of ancillary sanctity when he was a close and dedicated dis ciple. In other places, we see women who worked hard and supported their
families when men devoted their time to study and devotion. In more
wealthy zāwiyas, the saint’s wives, having their own fortune, opened the
door to beggars and pilgrims while managing the complicated domestic economy. Around the shaykh moved a large community composed of neighbours with whom the family exchanged goods, celebrated births and
mourned their dead. Family life was also concerned with larger community
problems, revealed in the tales of miracles: mothers of captives who implored the saint to help their liberation; wives complaining about their violent husbands; sick children for whom the saint interceded; family or tribal
conflicts which required holy intervention.
The saint’s household – which can be translated as bayt –, frequently
included disciples who came not only to follow the master’s teaching but
also to live near him on an everyday basis. Sha‘rānī, although he was an exceptional figure, accommodated dozens of disciples. And these disciples
would often marry through the medium of the shaykh. The most deserving
among them would marry the daughters of the shaykh. In turn the young
couples would create nuclear families who would increase the shaykh’s fortune, or squander it in certain cases. The master appeared as the real father
of the disciple and the disciples became the real family of the saint. This fre quent topic, already mentioned, led at times the break-up with the physical
22

INTRODUCTION

family. It supposed more frequently the existence of two families, parallel or
contiguous: the shaykh Dabbāgh presented by N. Amri had a family with his
four wives, but he had also a spiritual “partner” – Umm Yahyā Maryam –,
who was perhaps an old woman, widow or divorced, at the service of the
shaykh, who performed pious rituals with him.
From source to source, we encounter more and more intimate aspects of
family life. Even in a normative text like Siqillī’s treatise, A. Giladi reads the
love of fathers for their children, at least for their sons: following the example of the Prophet mourning the little Ibrāhīm or taking his grandson
Husayn on his knees, Rūmī, himself successor of his father, showed an overflowing and expressive love for his son Sultān Veled – literally the Son-King
– so much so that Rūmī breast-fed the baby (see A. Ambrosio’s article). The
saintly father was also a mother. Comparable feelings existed toward the disciples: Sha‘rānī compared his affection for his disciples to the father’s affection for his children. Did this love for his sons damage his love of God? The
question worried Sha‘rānī but he found, not without difficulty, a solution:
his sons were also, perhaps first of all, his disciples, and he, the father, was
their spiritual master. The physical family and the spiritual families were
one and the same. Therefore, what the father would love in his sons –
Sha‘rānī concluded – was faith and piety, not their blood relationship. The
picture could be more complex when the son became the son of the spiritual
father of his father, such as Sultān Veled who became the disciple of Shams,
himself the master of Rūmī, that is Veled’s father (see A. Ambrosio’s contri bution).
Contradictions arose when the son of a saint or venerated shaykh
proved to be ungrateful. Was the son really legitimate? Was he a worthy
successor? Did he deserve the veneration traditionally attached to saint’s
sons? The same questions emerged concerning the descendants of the
Prophet. Additional sources of conflict were the consequences of marriage.
The distinction between the patrilocal or uxorilocal residence could be problematic (see M. Marín), even worse if the shaykh’s son-in-law became his
successor and the new householder, to the detriment of his brothers-in-law
(see F. Chiabottti). Inside the family itself, conflicts opposed frequently fathers and sons, or brothers – often born from different mothers. In fact, the
patriarchate did not necessarily mean the primacy of the elder son in the
succession to the head of the zāwiya or the brotherhood. There were cases
of succession from uncles to nephews; the seniority system, i.e. the succes sion by any elder member of the family (not only by the elder as in the pri 23

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN & ALEXANDRE PAPAS
24

mogeniture), was often applied similarly as the rule used in numerous
Muslim dynasties in the medieval and early modern periods. Other actors
were involved in the process of succession, whether conflictual or not: the
wet nurse, as in the case of Hasan al-Basrī, acting like the Prophet’s nurse
Halīma (see A. Papas); the spiritual master when he was not a family member appeared as a “second father”; the tutelary figure of Khidr was a potential actor. Such a variety underlines the limits of the patrilineal structure
and suggests that the father, excessively absent, could be limited to a name,
an ascendancy, a necessary nasab.
Several alternatives were introduced to avoid internecine quarrels. Establishing alliances was a solution. For example, the khāndān families used
to make alliances in order to exchange pīrs. In other contexts, the only way
out was the departure of the saint, especially when a “congestion” of sanctity occurred, provoking a profusion of saints: if the base of the ‘Aydarūs
stayed in Hadramawt, a number of them migrated to Gujarat in India, while
maintaining links with their Yemeni cousins (see E. Peskes); the Egyptian
Sharnūbīs, loyal to the Nile Delta, went less far, but even one village to another they assumed various positions according to the lineages and the opportunities of land ownership (see C. Mayeur-Jaouen). Ultimately, the political dimension was central: while tribes or lineages like khāndān were
deeply involved in the local politics of Kurdish tribal society, other saintly
25
lineages, such as the Khwājas in Eastern Turkestan, created dynasties exercising temporal as well as spiritual power over a whole region. In fact, Central Asia had a variety of types of Khwājas, of which many lineages maintained themselves as a sociopolitical elite throughout the Soviet and postSoviet periods. Conversely, any dynasty seemed to end up assuming a form
of sacrality served by the association with saintly lineages: A. Ambrosio observes that the Çelebīs, descendants of Rūmī, became a kind of spiritual
pendant of the Ottoman Imperial household, following more or less the same
chronology. The contemporary political discourse tends to legitimate dynastic power by reconstructing a holy patronage: as R. Chih explained, for
the ministers of present-day Morocco, the only saints are the shurfās, hence
associated with the sultanian power to the exclusion of alternative emerging
movements.
24 It is interesting to note that, in Uyghur language, the first son can be called ikkinchi
atiliq, “the second father”. See Abdurehim Hebibulla, Uyghur etnografisi, Urumchi,
Uyghur Khelq Neshriyati, 1993, p. 228.
25 See Alexandre Papas, Soufisme et politique entre Chine, Tibet et Turkestan. Etude sur
les Khwâjas naqshbandis du Turkestan oriental, Paris, Jean Maisonneuve, 2005.

24

INTRODUCTION

The family appears as an analytical axis around which several relatively
well-known phenomena present a new, highly ambiguous face. Let us mention briefly three of them. First, the Prophetic model usually described as
centered on the Prophet’s persona, which provides believers with a model of
behaviour, lifestyle and piety, involves his entire family as if all members
displayed an expected model of community rather than the profiles of
unique individuals; yet, this holy idealtype, when observed within the family, betrays the ambivalence of specific personalities and leaves behind
blurred portraits, echoing the troubles of living people and real life. Second,
the study of saintly lineages, often used as synonyms for Sufi tarīqa, reveals
the extraordinary impact of hereditary solidarity on Sufi groups, despite
their opposition to the practice of hereditary succession of shaykhs.
Through the overlapping of matrimonial strategies, family networks or even
tribal segments with initiatory memberships, Sufi communities built up a
complex scene where loyalties, rather than personal agendas, played different roles, often thwarting the established rules of the community. Third, the
spiritual and devotional practices such as recitation (dhikr), talks (suhbat),
listening to music (samā‘) and so forth, can demonstrate intimate aspects of
mystical experience. If we put these practices back into the context of family, it seems that these practices not only affect the everyday life of the Sufi
household, but are in turn affected by the situation at home as well as the
dramatic events and the social passions that all run through the biographies
of mystics. Turning our eyes back to the cover illustration of this book, the
family portrait seems to shift out of focus and finally to vanish, leaving a
blank page to signify that a private history of Sufism remains to be written.

Acknowledgments
The two editors of the present volume would like to express their gratitude
to institutions and colleagues who supported its publication. We benefited
from generous grants from the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales
(Ehess), the Centre d’Études turques, ottomanes, balkaniques et centrasiatiques (Cetobac), the Institut des Etudes sur l’Islam et les Sociétés du Monde
Musulman (Iismm), and the Institut Universitaire de France (Iuf). The English of several articles was graciously corrected by Thomas Welsford, Rian
Thum, and Richard McGregor. Three essays have been translated from
French to English by Ly Lan Dill and Caroline Kraabel. The index has been
prepared by Renaud Soler. Lastly, we thank Gerd Winkelhane for accepting
to publish this book in the Islamkundliche Untersuchungen series.
25

Le Prophète en famille

Denis Gril
« Dis : si vraiment vous aimez Dieu, suivez-moi, Dieu vous aimera… » (Co1
ran 3, 31) . Le saint, proche et ami de Dieu, pris en charge par lui (walī) a répondu à cet appel du Prophète, enseigné par la Révélation et c’est en suivant
son modèle qu’il est parvenu à l’état de sainteté (walāya). La vie du saint,
telle qu’elle est perçue par lui-même et par ses proches, parents et disciples,
transmise par eux et consignée par l’hagiographe, s’inspire donc plus ou
moins, selon les cas, de ce modèle. À des degrés variables et selon son type
spirituel, le saint, surtout s’il est un maître entouré de disciples, fait l’expé rience d’une frontière ténue entre vie publique et privée qui caractérise la
vie du Prophète dont les moindres paroles et gestes, illustrations de ce modèle, ont été minutieusement recueillis et transmis.
La famille, dans le cas du Prophète et parfois des saints, ne se limite pas
à ceux qu’il côtoie durant sa mission ; elle inclut ascendance, descendance et
autres parents. L’élection dont il est l’objet sacralise cette parenté, comme le
rappelle nombre de traditions attestant de l’importance que lui accordait le
Prophète. On ne traitera pas ici du statut de la Famille du Prophète, qu’il soit
juridique, théologique, politique ou spirituel. Il en sera simplement question
comme modèle d’une famille sacralisée par la Prophétie ou la sainteté.
Comme on le verra, le terme coranique d’Ahl al-bayt est partagé entre les
épouses du Prophète et « les Cinq » : Le Prophète, ‘Alī, Fātima, Hasan et
2
Husayn . Les unes et les autres participent d’une même présence, chacun à
leur manière. Les épouses, Khadīja, la première, puis les autres, à leur tête
‘Ā’isha, sont les témoins privilégiés de la vie intime du Prophète. Bien plus,
elles provoquent parfois la Révélation et placent le Prophète dans une situation délicate, entre l’intimité de sa vie conjugale et la publicité du message
qu’il doit transmettre.
Muhammad appartient à une lignée dont il rappelle l’élection. Sa naissance et son enfance sont marquées par les signes de la sollicitude divine.
Orphelin de père puis de mère, il est pris en charge par son grand-père et
son oncle. Plus tard certains de ses oncles, tantes et cousins le rejoignent et
1
2

Les versets du Coran sont traduits par l’auteur de l’article.
Sur la famille du Prophète et des prophètes dans le Coran, voir l’aperçu de Mohammad
Ali Amir-Moezzi, « Famille de Mahomet », dans Dictionnaire du Coran, pp. 335-338.

27

DENIS GRIL

l’assistent dans sa mission prophétique. La plupart des membres de sa tribu
lui vouent une opposition farouche et ce conflit est vécu par lui et par eux
comme une fracture au sein d’une même famille, à tel point que lorsque les
Qurayshites viennent demander pardon après la conquête de La Mecque,
l’an 8 de l’Hégire, le Prophète en signe de réconciliation cite la parole de Jo3
seph à ses frères : « Nul opprobre sur vous aujourd’hui » (Coran 12, 92) .
L’histoire sacrée est une affaire de famille.
Le Prophète est aussi un père. De tous les enfants que met au monde
Khadīja, seules survivent leurs quatre filles. Le fils né de sa concubine, Māriya la Copte, meurt lui aussi en bas âge. C’est un grand-père d’autant plus
affectueux pour les deux petits-fils que lui donne sa fille Fātima. Il inclut
dans cette affection Usāma, le fils de celui qui fut un temps son fils adoptif.
La vie familiale du Prophète comporte sa part de joie et de tristesse. Il répond à Sa‘d b. Abī Waqqās qui lui demande qui sont les plus éprouvés des
hommes : « les prophètes puis les saints (al-sālihūn) puis les hommes à la
mesure de leur ressemblance avec ceux-ci ; l’homme est éprouvé à la mesure
4
de sa religion…» . Cette continuité entre la prophétie et la sainteté dans l’épreuve et l’imitation nous invite donc à rechercher dans les détails de la vie
du Prophète en famille les diverses facettes d’un modèle assumé par les saints.
Cette présentation de la vie du Prophète en famille repose sur la littérature exégétique, les recueils de hadith et la Sīra. Elle privilégie un choix limité de sources parmi les plus connues. Une étude complète aurait nécessité la
lecture exhaustive et systématique d’une littérature considérable. Nous
n’avons pas cherché à soumettre ces sources à une critique philologique et
historique mais les avons prises comme l’expression d’une tradition transmise de génération en génération et d’un modèle pour ceux qui ont cherché
à s’y conformer et pour ceux qui se sont faits leurs hagiographes. Elles re lèvent de la tradition sunnite, à quelques exceptions près. Entre sunnisme et
chiisme, les enjeux autour de la notion de famille du Prophète sont considérables. Une approche comparée serait souhaitable et éclairerait les diverses
facettes de la notion de walāya en islam.

Famille et Révélation
Dans l’ensemble, le Coran confère à la famille un statut positif, ce qui explique la place qu’elle occupe dans la vie du Prophète, comme plus tard dans
celle des saints. D’institution divine, elle compte parmi les grâces dont
3
4

Cf. Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, V 87 ; Qurtubī, al-Jāmi‘ li-ahkām al-Qur’ān, IX 258.
Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, I 172, 174, 185.

28

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

l’homme doit être reconnaissant et les signes de la Création qu’il doit
méditer :
« Dieu vous a donné à partir de vos propres âmes des épouses ; à
partir de vos épouses, il vous a donné enfants et petits-enfants et
vous a pourvus des choses bonnes. Croient-ils dans le faux et
mécroient-ils dans le bienfait de Dieu ? » (Coran 16, 72).
Plusieurs versets font de la piété filiale le second commandement après
l’adoration du Dieu unique et deux d’entre eux, relayés par de nombreuses
5
traditions, rappellent la gratitude due à la mère . Le respect des liens de parenté (rahim, pl. arhām), issu du mariage (rahim a pour sens premier la matrice) fait également partie des devoirs fondamentaux. Un hadith dit qudsī,
où Dieu parle à la première personne, souligne la relation entre ce sens de
rahim et le nom divin al-Rahmān, le Tout-Miséricordieux : « Le lien de parenté procède du Tout-Miséricordieux. Dieu lui dit : celui qui reste lié à toi,
6
Je reste lié à lui ; celui qui le rompt, Je romps avec lui » . La sacralité de la
famille procède de son principe divin, la miséricorde qui unit et rapproche
les êtres. Après le père et la mère, la charité doit s’exercer à l’égard des
proches parents (dhawū l-qurbā, al-aqrabūn), avant tout autre.
Pourtant d’autres versets mettent en garde contre la séduction des biens
et des enfants dans la mesure où ils attachent l’homme à ce monde et le dé7
tournent du souvenir de Dieu . Un seul évoque les femmes, tout en enseignant la mansuétude à leur égard. La famille met à l’épreuve (fitna) et provoque une tension entre ce monde et l’autre dont le Coran, le hadith puis
l’hagiographie se font l’écho :
« Ô vous qui croyez, vos épouses, vos enfants sont des ennemis
pour vous ; craignez-les. Si vous êtes indulgents et cléments et
que vous pardonnez, Dieu lui est très pardonnant, très miséricordieux. Vos biens et vos enfants sont une mise à l’épreuve et
auprès de Dieu se trouve une récompense immense » (Coran 64,
14-15).
Dans le contexte des expéditions guerrières du Prophète, le Coran appelle
les croyants à choisir entre d’un côté l’amour de Dieu et de l’Envoyé ainsi
que le combat dans la voie de Dieu, et de l’autre, l’attachement aux parents,
5
6
7

Cf. Coran 31, 14 et 46, 15.
Bukhārī, Sahīh, adab 13.
Cf. Coran 2, 28 ; 34, 37 ; 63, 9.

29

DENIS GRIL

aux enfants, aux frères, aux épouses et au clan (‘ashīra). La sacralité des
liens de famille ne s’impose que si ceux-ci ne contredisent pas l’engagement
envers Dieu et, par analogie, envers le maître et la voie vers Dieu. Les liens
du sang ne sauraient l’emporter sur la foi. Lorsque Noé invoque la famille en
intercédant pour son fils mort noyé car il a refusé de monter dans l’Arche,
Dieu lui répond : « … il n’est pas de ta famille (min ahlika) ; c’est une œuvre
non sainte (ghayr sālih)… » (Coran 11, 46). L’épouse de Noé et celle de Lot
sont données également en contre-exemple pour avoir trahi leurs époux
8
dans leur mission . Toutefois les prophètes sont représentés globalement et
positivement comme entourés d’une famille, associée à leur mission :
« Nous avons envoyé avant toi des messagers et nous leur avons
donné des épouses et une postérité » (Coran 3, 38).
Jean-Baptiste et Jésus font exception mais sont loués pour leur piété filiale,
9
envers ses parents pour le premier et envers sa mère pour le second .
Les familles des croyants bénéficient à leur tour de la sainteté d’une ascendance dont les effets se prolongent dans l’au-delà. Les anges intercèdent
ainsi en faveur des croyants :
« Seigneur, fais-les entrer au Paradis de l’Eden que tu leur as promis, ainsi que ceux d’entre eux qui sont saints (man salaha) parmi
leurs pères, ainsi que leurs épouses et leurs postérités » (Coran
10
40, 8) .
Ce sont avant tout les prophètes, ceux de la lignée abrahamique principalement, qui constituent dans le Coran comme dans la Bible, le modèle d’une
famille sainte où les femmes jouent leur rôle. C’est la femme d’Abraham qui
reçoit l’annonce de la naissance de son fils et qui attire miséricorde et bénédiction sur « les gens de la Maison » (Ahl al-bayt), terme repris à propos de
la famille du Prophète, pour souligner le rapport entre les deux familles et
11
les deux fondations . Moïse constitue un cas particulièrement exemplaire
puisqu’il est entouré de sa mère et de sa sœur, de sa mère adoptive, la
12
femme de Pharaon, puis de son épouse et assisté par son frère Aaron . C’est
encore l’expression ahl baytin qui est employée au sujet de sa famille. La sa8
9
10
11
12

Cf. Coran 66, 10.
Cf. Coran 19, 14 et 22.
Voir également Coran 13, 23 ; 52, 21.
Cf. Coran 11,73 et 33, 33.
Cf. Coran 20, 38-40 ; 28, 7-13 et 25-29.

30

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

cralité d’une telle lignée dont la descendance passe par Aaron est soulignée
dans le Coran par le nom du père de Marie, ‘Imrān, qui rappelle Amram, le
père de Moïse, d’Aaron et de leur sœur Myriam et quand elle est nommée
« sœur d’Aaron » par les siens lorsque l’honneur de la famille semble en
13
jeu . Quand le Prophète confie la garde de Médine à ‘Alī, alors qu’il part en
expédition avec les autres compagnons, il le console ainsi : « N’es-tu pas satisfait d’être par rapport à moi dans la position d’Aaron par rapport à
14
Moïse » . Il souligne ainsi l’analogie entre le lien de fraternité qui l’unit à
son cousin et gendre et la fonction d’Aaron aux côtés de son frère. La sacralité de ces familles prophétiques leur est conférée par l’élection du prophète
et le fait que ses proches reçoivent les effets de la Parole divine, comme
l’épouse d’Adam, la femme d’Abraham à laquelle s’adressent les anges, la
mère de Moïse inspirée par Dieu ou encore Marie, la seule femme nommée
dans le Coran qui clôt avec son fils la lignée prophétique des Fils d’Israël.

Les épouses du Prophète et la descente du Coran
Comme le remarque Ibn ‘Arabī (m. 1240), c’est en cherchant du feu pour sa
famille (ahl) que Moïse trouve la lumière et fait l’expérience de la révéla15
tion . Cependant, se trouvant dans la vallée sainte de Tuwā, il doit ôter ses
sandales pour entendre la Parole divine. Par la suite, la révélation sur le Sinaï se manifeste de manière encore plus majestueuse et terrible, séparant de
manière radicale le sacré du profane, comme plus tard pour l’Arche d’Alliance. Le prophète de l’islam reçoit, au contraire, la révélation par l’intermédiaire de Gabriel dans toutes sortes de circonstances, parfois solennelles
ou critiques mais aussi dans l’intimité de sa vie familiale et conjugale et au
sujet de celle-ci. Son épouse Khadīja croit en lui et le réconforte après
l’épreuve de la première révélation dans la grotte du Mont Hirā’. Pour lui
prouver que c’est bien un ange qui l’a visité, elle lui demande de la prévenir
quand il reviendra, ce qu’il fait. Elle le place contre sa cuisse gauche, puis
droite, puis contre son sein en lui demandant s’il voit toujours l’ange et il lui
répond à chaque fois par l’affirmative mais quand elle enlève son voile, Gabriel disparaît, ce qui prouve qu’il ne s’agit pas d’un esprit malfaisant. Selon
16
une autre version, elle met le Prophète contre elle, sous sa tunique . C’est la
13 Cf. Coran 3, 33-35 et 19, 28.
14 Bukhārī, Sahīh, fadā’il ashāb al-nabī 9, n° 3706.
15 Cf. Coran 20, 10 ; 27, 7 ; 28, 29 ; Ibn ‘Arabī, al-Futūhāt al-makkiyya, III 336 ; id. al-Isfār ‘an natā’ij al-isfār, pp. 66-68.
16 Cf. Ibn Hishām, al-Sīra, I 239.

31

DENIS GRIL

sexualité et non l’intimité conjugale qui marque ici la limite entre la sacralité de l’ange de la Révélation et la vie d’un homme et d’une femme.
Les sourates de l’époque mecquoise ne font pas allusion à des faits touchant la vie privée du Prophète. Sa parenté est néanmoins évoquée : « Dis :
je ne vous demande aucun salaire pour cela, si ce n’est l’amour de la proche
parenté (al-mawadda fī l-qurbā) » (Coran 42, 23). Selon le commentaire
d’Ibn ‘Abbās, le Prophète, lié à toutes les branches de la tribu de Quraysh,
17
doit leur rappeler cette parenté pour faire accepter son message . C’est donc
d’une parenté très étendue qu’il s’agit ici. De même l’ordre donné au Prophète : « Avertis ton clan le plus proche (‘ashīrata-ka l-aqrabīn) » concerne
aussi bien les Quraysh dans leur ensemble que les descendants de ‘Abd alMuttalib, les oncles et les tantes du Prophète et sa fille à qui il dit : « Ô Fātima, fille de Muhammad, sauve-toi du Feu ; vous avez un lien de parenté (ra18
him) que je continuerai de préserver » .
Les sourates révélées à Médine reflètent une interférence beaucoup plus
marquée entre la vie familiale du Prophète et celle de la communauté. Le
Prophète épouse successivement Sawda, une femme d’âge mûr dont le mari
décède après le second exode en Abyssinie ; la très jeune ‘A’isha fille d’Abū
Bakr ; Hafsa, fille de ‘Umar, dont le mari est tué à Badr ; Umm Salama dont
le mari tombe à Uhud ; Juwayriyya, la veuve du chef des Banū Mustaliq ;
Zaynab bint Jahsh, après que Zayd b. Hāritha s’est séparé d’elle ; Zaynab
bint Khuzayma, dont le mari était mort à Badr et qui meurt deux ans après
son mariage ; Umm Habība, fille d’Abū Sufyān, dont le mari meurt en Éthiopie ; Safiyya, la veuve du chef des juifs de Khaybar ; Maymūna, épousée
après son veuvage l’an 7 de l’Hégire. À Médine, le Prophète n’eut jamais
plus de neuf épouses en même temps. À l’exception de Ā’isha qu’il connaît à
19
l’âge de neuf ans, ses épouses sont toutes des veuves . Ces mariages, quelles
que soient leurs motivations, s’inscrivent dans un processus d’extension et
de consolidation de la communauté. On comprend donc que les faits concernant les épouses du Prophète auxquels fait allusion le Coran, aient touché
l’ensemble de la communauté.
L’affaire du collier et l’accusation mensongère (ifk) dont fut victime
20
‘Ā’isha et qu’évoque la sourate al-Nūr « La Lumière » le montrent suffi17 Cf. Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XIX 15.
18 Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XIX 72-73
19 Voir la liste des épouses du Prophète, notamment dans Ibn Hishām, Sīra II 643-48 ;
Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt,VIII 52-142 ; Ibn Kathīr, Bidāya, V 291-306.
20 Coran 24, 11-20.

32

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

samment. Le récit qu’elle fait elle-même de cet incident et de ses répercussions nous introduit au cœur de la vie conjugale du Prophète. ‘Ā’isha relate
ainsi les faits : lorsque le Prophète partait en expédition, il emmenait avec
lui une de ses épouses choisie par un tirage au sort. Il tombe sur ‘Ā’isha qui
part cachée aux regards dans un palanquin porté par un chameau, après
l’obligation faite aux épouses du Prophète de ne plus se montrer en public et
21
de parler aux croyants derrière un voile (hijāb) . Au retour, au moment où
le Prophète donne l’ordre du départ en pleine nuit, ‘Ā’isha s’éloigne pour satisfaire un besoin et s’apercevant qu’elle a perdu son collier, repart le chercher. Pendant ce temps, les chameliers remettent le palanquin sur le cha meau sans s’apercevoir de son absence. Quand elle revient au campement,
elle s’aperçoit que la caravane est partie sans elle. Elle décide de rester sur
place et s’endort. Au matin, un compagnon, Safwān b. Mu‘attil al-Sulamī alDhakwānī, resté en arrière de l’armée, la trouve là, la fait monter sur son
chameau et rejoint avec elle la troupe au repos de midi. Après cet épisode,
‘Ā’isha ne se rend pas compte que les langues vont bon train. Tombée ma lade un mois durant, elle souffre de ce que le Prophète ne lui témoigne plus
la même attention que d’habitude. Guérie, elle sort la nuit satisfaire un besoin avec une certaine Umm Mistāh qui trébuche en se prenant dans sa cape
et laisse échapper : « malheur à Mistāh ! (son fils, qui était un protégé d’Abū
Bakr) ». ‘Ā’isha s’étonne : « Dis-tu du mal d’un homme qui a participé à la
bataille de Badr ? ». Cette femme, comprenant que ‘Ā’isha ne sait rien de ce
qui se dit sur elle, la met au courant. ‘Ā’isha retombe malade et demande au
Prophète la permission de se rendre chez ses parents pour en savoir plus. Le
Prophète ne sachant que faire à son sujet, demande conseil à ‘Alī et Usāma.
Ce dernier ne dit que du bien de la jeune femme tandis que ‘Alī suggère au
Prophète d’interroger Barīra, la servante de ‘Ā’isha, sur le comportement de
sa maîtresse. Barīra lui reproche seulement de s’endormir parfois et de laisser les poules picorer la pâte du pain. Entretemps un conflit entre les deux
tribus des Ansār, les Aws et les Khazraj, éclate à propos du chef des « hypocrites », ‘Abd Allāh b. Ubayy. Cette précision souligne la relation entre une
perturbation interne et externe. Le Prophète vient alors trouver ‘Ā’isha chez
ses parents et lui dit : « Si tu es innocente, Dieu t’innocentera, mais si tu as
commis une faute, demande pardon à Dieu et repends-toi ». ‘Ā’isha cite en
réponse la parole de Jacob quand les frères de Joseph lui annoncent sa mort :
« C’est à Dieu que je demande aide pour ce que vous décrivez » (Coran 12,
21 Cf. Coran 33, 53.

33

DENIS GRIL

18). Elle dit d’elle-même : « Par Dieu, je ne pensais pas que Dieu ferait descendre une révélation à mon sujet, car je me considérais comme bien trop
insignifiante pour que Dieu prononce à mon propos une parole qui serait récitée. Mais j’espérais que l’Envoyé de Dieu eût une vision qui m’innocentât ». À cet instant la révélation descend sur le Prophète dont le front perle
de sueur. Après quoi, il lui annonce : « Reçois cette heureuse nouvelle,
‘Ā’isha ; Dieu t’a innocentée ». Quand sa mère lui demande de se lever pour
aller vers le Prophète, ‘Ā’isha lui répond : « Non, je ne me lèverai pas et je
ne rends louange qu’à Dieu qui m’a innocentée ». Il s’agit des versets :
« Ceux qui profèrent une accusation mensongère, ne sont qu’une faction
parmi vous. Ne le considérez pas comme un mal pour vous ; c’est au
contraire un bien pour vous … » (Coran 24, 11 sqq). Ce récit montre, comme
on l’a déjà remarqué, l’interaction entre le centre et la périphérie. Il souligne
en même temps l’intervention de la Révélation, avec toute sa sacralité, dans
un milieu d’hommes et de femmes dont les détails du récit font ressortir
22
l’humanité dans toute sa simplicité. ‘Ā’isha, à la suite de ce récit , précise
que sa rivale, Zaynab bint Jahsh, n’avait dit d’elle que du bien à cette occasion. Une tradition évoque leur rivalité très humaine mais vécue dans la familiarité de la Révélation : « ‘Ā’isha et Zaynab se vantèrent l’une l’autre
23
(tafākharat). Zaynab dit : ‘Je suis celle dont le mariage est descendu du ciel’
et ‘Ā’isha répondit : ‘Je suis celle dont l’excuse a été descendue dans Son
24
Livre’… » .
Bien plus encore que la sourate al-Nūr, la sourate al-Ahzāb « les coalisés » (n° 33) place les femmes du Prophète au cœur du devenir de la communauté de Médine. Comme d’autres sourates ou passages du Coran, elle établit un rapport implicite entre d’un côté, des événements qui opposent les
musulmans à des ennemis externes, ici la coalition des Qurayshites, de la tribu de Ghatafān et de la tribu juive de Médine, les Banū l-Nadīr, et internes,
les Hypocrites (al-munāfiqūn), et de l’autre, des dispositions relatives aux
femmes. Il faut en effet assurer la défense de la communauté contre les ennemis qui la menacent de l’extérieur et la protéger contre les troubles qui la
25
perturbent de l’intérieur . Le problème est d’autant plus sensible que cette
sourate concerne avant tout les épouses du Prophète, modèle aussi bien
22 Résumé d’après la version d’Ibn Shihāb al-Zuhrī, Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XVIII 71-74
(commentaire de Coran 24, 11 et suivants)
23 Cf. Coran 33, 27.
24 Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XVIII 70.
25 Il est remarquable que la plupart des passages du Coran relatifs aux femmes viennent avant ou après, ou les deux à la fois, des versets concernant le combat.

34

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

pour les musulmans que pour les musulmanes (v. 35). L’obligation de sortir
couverte d’un vêtement ample (jalbāb) concerne, à leur suite, les femmes des
croyants (v. 59). La sourate al-Ahzāb abolit également la filiation par adoption (v. 4-5), ce qui concerne Zayd b. Hāritha, le fils adoptif du Prophète qui
s’appelait jusque là Zayd b. Muhammad et rend possible le mariage du Prophète avec son ex-femme, Zaynab bint Jahsh, dont il sera question plus loin.
Le verset suivant instaure une relation à la fois familiale et spirituelle entre
le Prophète, ses épouses et les croyants : « Le Prophète est plus proche
(awlā) des croyants qu’ils ne le sont de leurs propres âmes et ses épouses
sont leurs mères… » (v. 6). Le terme awlā, forme élative de walī, « proche »,
« tuteur légal », « en charge de… » peut se comprendre autant sur un plan
légal que sur un plan intérieur, comme l’explicite ce hadith : « Il n’est de
croyant dont je ne sois l’homme le plus proche dans ce monde et dans
l’autre. Récitez si vous voulez : « Le Prophète est plus proche … ». Quand le
croyant laisse un bien, il appartient à ses héritiers et à sa parenté paternelle,
mais s’il laisse une dette ou une famille (démunie : dayā‘), que l’on vienne
me trouver car je suis son patron (mawlā, doublet de walī) ». Mujāhid (m.
entre 718 et 722) commente awlā par : « un père pour eux » et Hasan alBasrī (m. 728) incluait dans sa lecture du Coran, à la suite de awlā : « et c’est
un père pour eux ». La dimension légale et spirituelle de cette paternité est
soulignée d’autant plus fortement qu’il est affirmé plus loin : « Muhammad
n’est le père d’aucun homme, mais l’Envoyé de Dieu et le Sceau des pro 26
phètes … » (v. 40) . De même la qualité de “mères des croyants“ entraîne
l’interdiction pour les femmes du Prophète de se remarier après sa mort (v.
27
53) . Mais ici encore la dimension spirituelle de cette maternité l’emporte.
Non seulement elle n’autorise pas les croyants à se comporter envers elles
comme avec leur mère, mais elle leur impose une attitude pleine de respect,
matérialisée par ce voile derrière lequel ils doivent s’adresser à elles (v. 53).
L’instauration du Prophète dans une fonction de père spirituel et la sacralisation de sa famille constituée par les femmes expliquent que toute pertur26 L’étude de David S. Powers, intitulée d’après ce verset Muhammad Is Not the Father
of Any of Your Men. The Making of the Last Prophet cherche surtout à démontrer que
le Prophète ne pouvait être le dernier des prophètes s’il avait un enfant mâle ou si
Zayd était son fils, d’où l’abrogation de la filiation par adoption dans cette même
sourate.
27 Il en est de même de la femme du maître pour les disciples. Les rares exceptions à
cette règle sont justifiées en général par l’ordre explicite donné par le maître à un de
ses disciples d’épouser sa veuve, ce qui constitue une forme particulière de transmission.

35

DENIS GRIL

bation touchant sa vie conjugale atteint l’ensemble des croyants. Le verset
suivant : « Et lorsque nous scellâmes avec les prophètes leur alliance, avec
toi, Noé, Abraham, Moïse et Jésus fils de Marie et nous scellâmes avec eux
une alliance solennelle » (v. 7), suscite très tôt des commentaires comme celui de Qatāda (m. 735). Ce dernier explique le fait que le Prophète soit mentionné avant les autres prophètes par ce hadith : « J’ai été le premier pro28
phète à être créé et le dernier à être envoyé » . Ce verset, la désignation de
Muhammad comme Sceau des prophètes (v.40) et l’institution de la prière
sur le Prophète (v. 56), à la suite d’un verset concernant ses épouses, sacralisent sa personne sans pour autant faire oublier son humanité, sans cesse
rappelée par ses relations parfois tendues avec ses femmes. L’excellence de
son modèle est rappelée ici dans le contexte de la bataille du Fossé contre les
Coalisés : « Il y a pour vous dans l’Envoyé de Dieu un beau modèle pour qui
espère Dieu et le Jour dernier et invoque Dieu sans cesse » (v. 21). Le Prophète revendique cette excellence dans un tout autre domaine, du moins en
apparence, celui de la relation avec ses épouses : « Le meilleur d’entre vous
est le meilleur avec sa famille (ahl, qui signifie aussi l’épouse ou les épouses)
29
et je suis le meilleur d’entre vous avec ma famille » .
Après les allusions à la bataille du Fossé et au sort des Banū l-Nadīr, le
Prophète est interpellé ainsi au sujet de ses femmes :
« Ô Prophète, dis à tes épouses : si vous voulez la vie de ce monde
et ses parures, venez que je vous en donne la jouissance et que je
vous libère de belle manière. Mais si vous voulez Dieu et son envoyé ainsi que la demeure dernière, Dieu a réservé à celles d’entre
vous qui lui vouent une adoration parfaite (muhsināt), une récompense magnifique. Ô femmes du Prophète, celle d’entre vous qui
commet une turpitude manifeste, subit un châtiment redoublé ;
cela est facile à Dieu. Celle d’entre vous qui se consacre à Dieu et
à son envoyé et œuvre saintement, nous lui donnons deux fois sa
récompense et nous avons préparé pour elle une pourvoyance généreuse. Ô femmes du Prophète, vous n’êtes comme aucune des
femmes, si vous craignez Dieu ; ne montrez pas dans vos propos
une douceur telle que celui dont le cœur est malade en concevrait
28 Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXI 78.
29 Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib 63 ; Ibn Māja, Sunan, nikāh 50. Selon un autre hadith : « Le
croyant dont la foi est la plus parfaite est celui dont le caractère est le meilleur et qui
est le plus doux avec sa famille (ou son épouse : altafu-hum bi-ahli-hi) », Tirmidhī,
Jāmi‘, īmān 6.

36

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

un désir coupable mais parlez comme il convient. Restez dans vos
demeures et n’allez pas vous montrer comme au temps de la première ignorance. Accomplissez la prière, versez l’aumône et
obéissez à Dieu et à son envoyé ; Dieu ne veut pas autre chose
que d’éloigner de vous toute souillure (rijs), Gens de la Famille et
vous purifier totalement. Remémorez-vous ce qui est récité dans
vos demeures comme versets du Livre et comme sagesse ; Dieu
est très subtil, très informé (v. 29-34) ».
Le verset suivant, énumérant au masculin et au féminin les qualités spirituelles des hommes et des femmes, montre que les épouses du Prophète
constituent un modèle pour les uns et les autres, tout comme leurs apparte ments (bayt, pl. buyūt ou al-hujūrat dans la sourate 49 qui porte ce nom) occupent à côté de la mosquée une position centrale. Ces versets offrent tout
d’abord aux épouses du Prophète un choix entre ce monde et l’autre. Selon
la plupart des commentateurs, ils sont révélés à la suite de la demande par
‘Ā’isha ou d’autres épouses de quelques facilités matérielles, ce qui met le
Prophète en difficulté, étant donné sa pauvreté et surtout la ligne de vie qui
lui est imposée : se confier totalement à Dieu, en toute chose et en particulier dans le domaine de la subsistance. Il se sépare donc de ses femmes un
mois durant mais surtout ne sort plus prier en commun pendant un certain
temps, ce qui inquiète les Compagnons. ‘Umar vainc la résistance du Prophète qui finit par le laisser entrer chez lui. Il arrive à le faire rire en lui ra contant comment il a corrigé sa femme qui lui demandait des biens matériels. Le Prophète reconnaît alors : « c’est cela qui m’a empêché de rester
avec vous ». Ce problème domestique affectait donc sa relation avec la communauté. ‘Umar se rend alors auprès de sa fille Hafsa, une des femmes du
Prophète, et l’enjoint de ne rien demander à ce dernier mais de s’adresser à
son père en cas de besoin. Il reproche également à ‘Ā’isha de profiter de sa
situation privilégiée et la met en garde contre une descente d’une révélation
à son sujet. Umm Salama lui réplique qu’il n’a pas à s’immiscer entre le Prophète et ses épouses qui de toute manière ne demanderont rien à un autre
que lui. Les versets 29-34 de la sourate al-Ahzāb sont alors révélés. Le Pro phète va trouver en premier ‘Ā’isha et lui demande de faire son choix. « Je
choisis Dieu, son envoyé et la demeure dernière », répond-elle en demandant au Prophète de ne pas le dire à ses co-épouses. Espérait-elle que les
autres choisissent ce monde et qu’elle soit ainsi débarrassée de ses rivales ?

37

DENIS GRIL

Le Prophète se garde bien d’agir ainsi : il fait part à toutes du choix de
30
‘Ā’isha et toutes choisissent Dieu et son envoyé .
La sacralité du lien entre le Prophète et ses épouses tient à leur engagement total envers Dieu et son envoyé. Ceci pourrait être dit des Compagnons qui font le pacte d’allégeance avec le Prophète et, analogiquement,
des disciples avec le maître. Mais dans le cas de ces femmes, le lien conjugal
qui les unit au Prophète doit s’accorder avec sa mission, ce qui leur confère
un statut spécial, leur imposant certaines obligations et interdits. L’interdit
n’est que la face extérieure du sacré. Le verset 33 de cette sourate pose la
question de l’identification des « Gens de la Maison » qui constitue cette famille sacrée autour du Prophète. Il n’est explicitement question dans ces
versets que des épouses du Prophète qui doivent rester dans leurs demeures
ou maisons (bayt, pl. buyūt), en réalité la pièce où chacune d’entre elles vit
avec le Prophète qui n’a d’autre lieu de vie familial. Étymologiquement bayt
signifie le lieu où l’on passe la nuit (cf. le verbe bāta, yabītu qui signifie aussi
rester). La sacralité est attachée à ce terme qui désigne la Ka‘ba, la maison de
Dieu, et, par extension la mosquée ou tout lieu de prière (cf. Coran 24, 36).
Cependant un détail attire l’attention : alors que le Coran interpelle les
épouses en utilisant le pronom féminin de deuxième personne du pluriel, le
verset 33 s’adresse aux Ahl al-bayt en employant le pronom masculin de
deuxième personne du pluriel (‘ankum). Ce verset rappelle la bénédiction
adressée par les anges à Abraham et Sarah en leur annonçant la naissance
d’Isaac : « Que la miséricorde de Dieu et ses bénédictions soient sur vous,
Gens de la Maison. Il est très louangé, très glorieux » (Coran 11, 73). Ces
deux derniers noms divins sont repris dans la prière dite Ibrāhīmiyya, enseignée par le Prophète, appelant grâce et bénédictions sur Muhammad et sa
famille (āl), comme auparavant sur Abraham et sa famille. Or d’Abraham
par Isaac descend la lignée charnelle et spirituelle des prophètes des Fils
d’Israël jusqu’à Jésus. De nombreux hadiths, réunis notamment par Tabarī
31
dans son commentaire de ce verset , désignent les Ahl al-bayt comme le
Prophète, son gendre et sa fille, ‘Alī et Fātima et leurs fils, Hasan et Husayn.
Selon plusieurs traditions, le Prophète couvre de son manteau ou sa cape sa
fille, son mari et ses deux petits fils et annonce que les « Cinq » sont les
Gens de sa Maison. Une seule tradition, rapportée par Umm Salama, relie
30 Cf. Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXI 99-101. D’après ‘Ikrima, ces versets sont révélés à la
suite d’une jalousie de ‘Ā’isha mais cette explication donnée sans plus de détails
semble moins évidente.
31 Cf. Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXII 4-8.

38

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

explicitement la révélation du verset à cet acte du Prophète. Certains commentateurs anciens comme ‘Ikrima (723-4), cité par Tabarī (m. 923) ou Muqātil b. Sulayman (m. 767) considèrent que le verset concerne exclusivement
les épouses du Prophète, par réaction sans doute à l’identification des Ahl
al-bayt aux Cinq et à ses implications politico-religieuses. Cependant les
commentateurs sunnites ultérieurs, comme Māturidī (m. 934), ne voient pas
de contradiction entre le contexte du verset qui concerne avant tout les
épouses et les traditions qui identifient le Prophète et ses quatre proches aux
32
Gens de la Maison prophétique . Les hadiths où Umm Salama et le Compagnon Wāthila b. al-Asqa‘ assistent à la désignation des Cinq et demandent à
en faire partie montre le caractère extensible de la notion de Ahl al-bayt,
comme l’atteste aussi la déclaration du Prophète en faveur d’un autre Com33
pagnon : « Salmān fait partie des nôtres, Gens de la Maison » .
La famille charnelle est en effet aussi spirituelle et il est possible de s’y
rattacher par la foi, la sincérité du dévouement et l’amour. La relation des
disciples d’un maître avec la famille de ce dernier relève du même modèle.
Selon Ibn ‘Arabī, « Le secret de Salmān qui l’a rattaché aux Gens de la Maison » réside dans la perfection de sa servitude qui purifie de toute souillure
à l’instar du Prophète dont les péchés passés et à venir sont pardonnés (cf.
Coran 48, 2). L’ordre donné aux épouses du Prophète de rester chez elles en
se consacrant à l’adoration a pour but de les préserver de toute souillure qui
rejaillirait sur les Gens de la Maison. Ceux-ci en tant qu’entité spirituelle
protègent donc les épouses en les incluant dans cette sainte entité dont la
fonction s’étend bien au delà puisque, selon un hadith, « Les Gens de ma
Maison sont une protection (amān) pour ma communauté » pour laquelle ils
34
intercèdent dans l’au-delà . Cette fonction assignée aux Ahl al-bayt, in32 Il est suivi en cela par Qurtubī, al-Jāmi‘ li-ahkām al-Qur’ān, XIV 182 ; Ibn Kathīr,
Tafsīr, III 483 etc. et par des exégètes plus récents comme Muhammad al-Tāhir Ibn
‘Āshūr, al-Tahrīr wa l-tanwīr, XXII 14-17 ou Muhammad al-Amīn al-Shingītī, Adwā’
al-bayān, VI 378-380. Parmi les exégètes imamites, Tabrisī mentionne l’opinion de
‘Ikrima mais s’appuie sur les mêmes hadiths que la tradition sunnite pour identifier
les Cinq aux Ahl al-bayt ; Majma‘ al-bayān, V 137-139. Les mêmes traditions sont reprises par Muhammad Husayn Tabātabā’ī dans al-Mīzān, XV 522-23. Sur cette question, voir Moshe Sharon, « Ahl al-bayt, People of the House », Jerusalem Studies in
Arabic and Islam 8, 1986, pp. 169-184.
33 Parole prononcée par le Prophète, lors de la bataille du Fossé qui fut creusé sur les
conseils de Salmān ; cf. Sīra, II 224. Voir aussi al-Haythamī, Majma‘ al-zawā’id, VI
130, d’après Tabarānī.
34 Sur cette interprétation par Ibn ‘Arabī de la relation entre les Ahl al-bayt et les
épouses du Prophète, voir Futūhāt, I 195-99, chap. 29 sur le secret de Salmān et II
126-27, réponse à la question 150 du questionnaire de Hakīm Tirmidhī sur la signi-

39

DENIS GRIL

cluant les épouses qui entourent le Prophète dans sa vie intime et quotidienne, éclaire le rôle de la famille dans la vie des saints qui sont nombreux,
à partir des XII-XIIIe siècles, à être des shurafā’. La famille exerce une fonction médiatrice entre le maître et les disciples, comme entre le Prophète et
sa communauté, ce qui explique l’ordre donné au Prophète : « Dis : je ne
vous demande pas pour cela de salaire, si ce n’est l’amour de la proche parenté » (Coran 42, 23).
La Révélation ne dévoile pas seulement sa vie familiale et conjugale, elle
dévoile l’intimité de sa conscience et de ses sentiments, à propos de son
mariage avec Zaynab, en levant ses scrupules à l’égard de Zayd, redevenu
désormais fils de Hāritha :
« Lorsque tu disais à celui à qui Dieu a accordé sa faveur et à qui
tu as accordé ta faveur : ‘garde ton épouse et crains Dieu’, tu cachais en ton âme ce que Dieu fait apparaître et tu redoutais les
hommes, mais Dieu est plus digne que tu le redoutes. Lorsque
Zayd eut cessé tout rapport avec elle, nous te la donnâmes pour
épouse, afin que les croyants ne soient pas gênés vis-à-vis des
épouses de ceux à qui ils ont donné leur nom quand ils n’ont plus
de rapport avec elles et l’ordre de Dieu doit s’accomplir » (v. 37).
L’étonnante précision de ce verset, le seul où un nom d’un compagnon du
Prophète soit mentionné, vise à montrer que tout ce qui relève de la relation
du Prophète avec ses épouses revêt la plus grande importance pour l’accomplissement de sa mission. De même que l’Envoyé ne doit rien celer de ce qui
lui est révélé, il ne peut rien cacher de ce qui est intimement lié non pas
seulement à sa vie d’homme mais aussi à sa fonction de transmetteur d’un
dépôt qui lui est confié et qui dépasse son individualité. Ce qui se passe dans
son for intérieur et dans les appartements de ses épouses, là où se déroule
l’essentiel de sa vie en famille, relève de ce dépôt. ‘Ā’isha qui l’avait bien
perçu, disait à propos de ce verset : « Si l’Envoyé de Dieu avait caché
quelque chose de ce qui lui a été révélé, il aurait caché : « tu cachais en ton
35
âme ce que Dieu fait apparaître … » .
C’est encore à l’occasion du mariage du Prophète avec Zaynab qu’est
fication de « Les Gens de ma Maison sont une protection pour ma communauté ».
Voir la synthèse de Claude Addas sur cette question : « The notion of Ahl al-bayt according to Ibn ‘Arabi » dans East and West : Common spiritual values, scientific-cultural links. International Ibn al-Arabī Symposium, Baku 9-11 October, Istanbul, Insan
Publications 2010, pp. 353-68.
35 Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXII 11.

40

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

révélé le verset demandant à ses épouses de parler derrière un voile aux
hommes autres que leurs proches parents :
« Ô vous qui croyez, n’entrez pas dans les appartements (buyūt)
du Prophète, à moins d’y avoir été conviés pour prendre une
nourriture, sans pour autant regarder son plat. Lorsque vous êtes
invités, entrez et quand vous avez mangé, dispersez-vous et ne
vous laissez pas aller à la conversation. Ceci ferait du tort au Prophète qui aurait honte devant vous. Mais Dieu n’a pas honte de
dire la vérité. Quand vous demandez quelque chose à ses femmes,
faites-le derrière un voile. Cela est plus pur pour vos cœurs et
pour les leurs. Vous ne sauriez faire du tort à l’Envoyé de Dieu ni
jamais épouser ses épouses après lui. Ceci serait auprès de Dieu
très grave » (v. 53).
Le récit par Anas, le jeune serviteur du Prophète, sur les circonstances de
cette révélation illustre la délicate limite entre vie familiale et communautaire dont il a déjà été question. À l’occasion de ce mariage, comme c’est
l’usage, le Prophète convie les croyants à un repas. Il envoie Anas les inviter
et ils viennent, groupes après groupes, manger dans la pièce dévolue à Zaynab. Quand il s’est assuré auprès d’Anas que tout le monde a bien été appelé, il fait enlever le repas. Tous sortent, sauf trois qui restent à discuter.
N’osant pas les interrompre, le Prophète se rend d’abord chez ‘Ā’isha et
s’adresse ainsi à elle : « Le salut soit sur vous, Gens de la maison » – on notera l’emploi de ce terme. ‘Ā’isha répond à son salut et lui demande : « Comment as-tu trouvé ta femme (ahla-ka) ? ». Il fait ainsi le tour de ses épouses,
revient et constate que les trois hommes sont toujours là. Il s’apprête à res sortir quand les invités indélicats partent enfin. Le verset est alors révélé.
Pendant tout ce temps, Zaynab était restée dans un coin de la pièce, ce qui
montre le peu d’espace qu’avait le Prophète à sa disposition. Anas ajoute
qu’il tira alors un rideau pour que le Prophète se retrouve enfin seul avec sa
36
nouvelle épouse .
La sourate al-Tahrīm « l’interdiction » (n° 66) débute ainsi : « Ô Prophète, pourquoi interdis-tu ce que Dieu t’a rendu licite, par désir de satisfaire
tes épouses, mais Dieu est très pardonnant, très miséricordieux » (v. 1). La
suite fait allusion à la raison de cette interdiction et appelle les épouses
concernées à résipiscence : « Lorsque le Prophète confia un secret à l’une de
36 Cf. Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXII 26-28.

41

DENIS GRIL

ses épouses, qu’elle en eut informé autrui et que Dieu l’eut assisté en cela, il
fit connaître une partie et se détourna d’une autre. Lorsqu’il l’en eut informée, elle lui demanda : ‘qui te l’a annoncé ?’, il répondit : ‘m’en a informé le
très savant, le bien informé’. Si vous vous repentez toutes deux envers Dieu,
car vos cœurs se sont laissés entraîner, mais si vous vous liguez contre lui,
Dieu est son patron, ainsi que Gabriel et les saints d’entre les croyants, avec
ensuite le secours des anges » (v. 3-4). La solennité de la menace et les soutiens invoqués semblent de prime abord disproportionnés face à une puis
deux des épouses du Prophète, surtout lorsqu’on prend connaissance des
faits tels qu’ils sont rapportés par la tradition exégétique. Le Prophète s’unit
à sa concubine, Māriyā la Copte, dans la chambre et sur le lit de Hafsa, le
jour réservé à cette dernière, alors qu’elle s’est absentée. Elle s’en aperçoit et
le reproche au Prophète qui, pour se concilier son épouse, jure de ne plus
avoir désormais de relation avec sa concubine, d’où le verset 2 rappelant que
l’on peut se désengager d’un serment. Il demande à Hafsa de n’en rien dire à
personne mais elle ne peut s’empêcher d’en parler à ‘Ā’isha, sa confidente
parmi les autres épouses. Selon une autre version, Hafsa aperçoit le Prophète avec Māriyā, alors que c’est le jour de ‘Ā’isha. Elle en informe aussitôt
celle-ci qui obtient du Prophète ce serment. Selon un hadith, le Prophète, en
demandant à Hafsa de ne pas parler de ce qui s’était passé, lui avait confié
en secret l’annonce que son père, c’est-à-dire ‘Umar, et le père de ‘Ā’isha,
Abū Bakr, règneraient après lui, ce qui explique dans une certaine mesure la
37
gravité de la situation . Toujours est-il que le Prophète resta un mois sans
relation avec ses femmes, ce qui fit croire qu’il les avait répudiées. On rapporte aussi qu’il avait prononcé une première répudiation contre Hafsa mais
que Gabriel était intervenu en sa faveur, rappelant qu’elle pratiquait inten38
sément le jeûne et la prière de nuit (sawwāma qawwāma) . Dans un long
hadith, ‘Umar raconte comment il est choqué en apprenant que les femmes
du Prophète lui tiennent tête, à l’instar des femmes de Médine avec leurs
époux et il va admonester sa fille Hafsa. Un voisin avec lequel il échangeait
les nouvelles, car ils habitaient loin de la mosquée du Prophète, lui annonce
qu’il s’est passé un événement grave. ‘Umar demande s’il s’agit des Ghassanides dont on disait qu’ils ferraient leurs chevaux pour venir attaquer les
musulmans. « Non, pire que cela et bien plus grave, le Prophète a répudié
ses épouses ! lui répond le voisin ». En réalité, il ne les a pas répudiées mais
37 Cf. Dāraqutnī, Sunan, IV 153-4.
38 Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXVIII 100-105 et Qurtubī, al-Jāmi‘ li-ahkām al-Qur’ān,
XVIII 177-192.

42

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

s’est retiré dans une sorte de réduit où ‘Umar, après en avoir demandé trois
fois la permission, finit par être admis et par détendre le Prophète comme
39
dans l’épisode de la sourate al-Ahzāb .
Cette version de l’histoire illustre une fois de plus la relation entre la famille du Prophète et l’ensemble de la communauté, à tel point que la menace
qui pèse sur la première est perçue comme plus grave que les dangers extérieurs qui guettent la seconde.
Une autre explication, plus légère, est également donnée pour expliquer
cette révélation. Selon une première version, ‘Ā’isha raconte que le Prophète
restait un certain temps chez Zaynab et y buvait du miel. Elle se met d’accord avec Hafsa pour que la première d’entre elles chez qui entrerait le Prophète lui dise : « Je sens l’odeur des maghāfīr » (une plante ou gomme sucrée mais à l’odeur assez désagréable). Le Prophète en entendant cela répond qu’il a bu du miel chez Zaynab bint Jahsh mais qu’il ne le fera plus.
Dans une seconde version, ‘Ā’isha raconte que le Prophète aimait les plats
sucrés et le miel. Après la prière du milieu de l’après-midi, il se rendait chez
ses femmes. Il reste une fois chez Zaynab plus longtemps que de coutume.
Comme ‘Ā’isha cherche à en savoir la raison, on lui répond qu’on a offert du
miel à Hafsa et qu’elle en a donné à boire au Prophète. ‘Ā’isha décide alors
de jouer un tour à sa rivale. Elle s’entend avec Sawda et Safiyya pour que les
trois demandent au Prophète s’il a mangé des maghāfīr, sachant qu’il déteste
toute mauvaise odeur. S’il répond que Hafsa lui a donné du miel, elles lui diront toutes : ‘alors les abeilles ont butiné du ‘urfut, une plante dégageant
une odeur comparable à celle du vin’. Et quand Hafsa lui propose à nouveau
40
du miel, il refuse . Peu importe ici comme ailleurs la véracité des faits dont
la simplicité semble en décalage par rapport au texte du Coran. Mais l’inté rêt de ces anecdotes réside précisément dans le contraste apparent entre la
gravité de la Révélation et ces histoires de jalousie entre femmes. Elles dépeignent la simplicité de la vie d’un Envoyé de Dieu au milieu de ses
épouses qui ne se gênent pas pour jouer un bon tour à leur concurrente.
Il est surprenant tout de même que la plupart des exégètes ne s’inter rogent guère sur la raison pour laquelle les deux épouses se voient confron tées, si elles persistent à se liguer contre le Prophète, à Dieu, à Gabriel, aux
saints des croyants ainsi qu’à l’ensemble des anges. Seul, à notre connais sance, Ibn ‘Arabī propose une explication certes allusive mais qui permet de
comprendre la profondeur du lien entre certains saints et maîtres et leurs
39 Cf. Bukhārī, Sahīh, nikāh 84 n° 5191.
40 Cf. Qurtubī, al-Jāmi‘ li-ahkām al-Qur’ān, XVIII 177-78.

43

DENIS GRIL

épouses. Il raconte avoir été conduit à s’interroger sur le sens de ce verset
par un ami à lui, savant par Dieu, à qui il demande s’il est possible qu’un
être créé embrasse la totalité des sciences relatives à la création, contenues
dans « la Demeure des demeures » (manzil al-manāzil) ou selon l’expression
coranique, « l’Exemplaire manifeste » (al-imām al-mubīn) où toutes choses
sont consignées. L’ami répond par la négative et ajoute: « Ne connaît les armées de ton Seigneur que Lui » (Coran 74, 31) Si ces armées ne sont
connues que de Lui, Dieu n’a pas de rival auquel elles devraient s’opposer, si
ce n’est quelques hommes et djinns ». Comme Ibn ‘Arabī s’étonne du petit
nombre d’adversaires face à l’immensité des armées divines, l’autre lui répond : « Ne t’étonne pas, par le Seigneur du ciel et de la terre, il y a plus
étonnant » et il précise : « ce que Dieu a dit des deux femmes de l’Envoyé de
Dieu – sur lui la grâce et la paix – et il récita : « si vous vous liguez contre
lui, Dieu est son patron … ». Ceci est encore plus étonnant que la mention
des armées ». Ayant demandé à Dieu de lui faire connaître ce secret, Ibn
‘Arabī réalise que ces deux femmes détenaient une science et une capacité
d’action sur le monde qui leur donnaient une force comparable à celle que
possédait Loth sans le savoir quand il invoqua ainsi le secours de
Dieu contre son peuple : « Si j’avais face à vous une force ou me réfugiais
41
vers un soutien solide » (Coran 11, 80) .
Ibn ‘Arabī écrit plus loin à propos du nom divin al-Qawī, « le Fort »
qu’« il n’y a pas dans le monde créé plus fort que la femme, en raison d’un
secret que seul connaît celui qui sait dans quoi le monde est venu à l’existence, par quel mouvement il l’a été et qu’il est le résultat de deux prémisses.
Celui qui désire l’union sexuelle, ajoute-t-il, est en demande, celui qui demande est dans la nécessité (al-nākih tālib wa l-tālib muftaqir). Celui avec
qui l’union est désirée (mankūh) est demandé ; il jouit d’une supériorité et
du besoin qu’on a de lui, car le désir sensuel est impérieux. La place de la
femme parmi les êtres apparaît donc clairement, ainsi que ce qui lui correspond dans la Présence divine et la raison pour laquelle sa force l’emporte ».
Après avoir cité le verset « si vous vous liguez contre lui, Dieu est son patron … » et avoir remarqué que dans ce verset sont mentionnés les êtres
dont la force est la plus grande et qui n’est autre que la force de Dieu, il précise que les anges créés des souffles (nafas, pl. anfās) des femmes sont les
plus forts de tous. La force des anges vient qu’ils sont créés de lumière. Or il
41 Futūhāt, I 180, fin chap. 22 (le texte est fautif et doit être corrigé par l’édition de
Būlāq 1293 H., I 234).

44

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

n’est rien de plus fort que la lumière dont la théophanie dissipe toute
42
ombre .
L’explication se précise peu à peu quand il rappelle que « les femmes
43
sont les sœurs des hommes » . Ève créée à partir d’Adam a deux statuts ; la
masculinité de par son origine et la féminité de manière adventice (bil-‘ārid). L’humanité est la rencontre du masculin et du féminin. Le rapport
entre l’un et l’autre est celui de l’agent et du patient ou de l’actif et du passif.
Or l’actif n’agit que dans celui qui est semblable à lui. La première passivité
(infi‘āl) est en effet celle qui apparaît en soi-même et qui donne forme à ce
44
qui va être passif par rapport à soi-même . Ce principe de la production des
êtres à partir d’un agent et d’un patient qui est un être unique trouve son
modèle dans des noms divins comme « le Créateur sans modèle préalable »
(al-Badī‘), l’Inventeur (al-Mukhtari‘) et Le Vrai (par lequel toute chose est
créée : al-Haqq). Ce principe se retrouve dans le fait que « la science suit la
45
chose sue » . Ceci explique « pourquoi Dieu a fait aimer les femmes à Muhammad. Celui qui aime les femmes de l’amour que le Prophète avait pour
elles, aime Dieu ». Le secret de cet amour réside dans cette notion d’infi‘āl,
passivité au sens de réceptivité. Celui qu’on appelle savant a d’abord été su,
donc réceptif à la science, avant de la recevoir. Les modèles de ce double
rapport entre masculin et féminin sont Ève, créée à partir d’un être masculin, et Jésus, créé à partir de Marie, selon le verset : « Ô hommes, nous vous
avons créés d’un être masculin et d’un être féminin » (Coran 49, 13), alors
que les autres fils d’Adam sont créés de l’un et de l’autre. On comprend
donc que face à une telle puissance d’attraction de ces deux femmes, ‘Ā’isha
et Hafsa, soit invoquée la hiérarchie des forces actives dans le monde pour
que le Prophète puisse saisir en elles le reflet de la théophanie divine et réaliser en lui-même un équilibre entre la face active et passive de l’être. C’est
du moins ce que semble suggérer ce passage qui reste allusif en raison de ce
42 Futūhāt, II 466, chap. 198 sur le Souffle, section 35 sur le nom al-Qawī.
43 Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 256. Cette parole conclut un hadith sur la pollution nocturne
nécessitant la grande ablution pour les hommes comme pour les femmes.
44 L’Adam primordial, appelé dans le Coran « l’âme unique » (4, 1 ; 6, 98 ; 7, 189) en
raison de sa passivité par rapport à son principe créateur, devient actif quand son
conjoint (zawj) est créé à partir de lui.
45 Sur cette question complexe, voir Michel Chodkiewicz, « Les trois cailloux du
Shaykh ‘Abd al-Karīm al-Jīlī » in Geneviève Gobillot, éd., Mystique musulmane. Parcours en compagnie d’un chercheur : Roger Deladrière, Paris, Cariscript, 2002, pp. 141154. De même que les choses préexistent dans la science divine et sont existenciées
selon ce que Dieu sait d’elles, le masculin suit le féminin qui lui révèle sa féminité
(ou passivité) première.

45

DENIS GRIL
46

secret divin que la femme porte en elle . Ibn ‘Arabī, en confiant à son lecteur qu’après son engagement sur la Voie, il est resté dix-huit ans sans au cune attirance pour les femmes jusqu’à ce que Dieu les lui fasse aimer et respecter plus que quiconque, cherche à lui faire saisir ce qu’avait pu être la relation du Prophète avec ses femmes. Il l’explicite un peu plus dans sa dernière grande œuvre : « Lorsque l’homme contemple Dieu dans la femme, sa
vision est dans un être passif (munfa‘il). S’il le contemple en soi-même sans
actualiser la forme de ce qui a été constitué à partir de lui, sa vision est celle
d’un être passif par rapport à Dieu, sans intermédiaire. Or sa vision de Dieu
dans la femme est plus accomplie et parfaite car il contemple Dieu en tant
qu’il est actif et passif, tout en le contemplant à partir de soi-même, en tant
que passif. C’est pourquoi le Prophète aima les femmes en raison de la perfection de la vision de Dieu en elles. On ne peut en effet jamais contempler
Dieu en faisant abstraction des formes matérielles, car Dieu est dans son Es47
sence totalement indépendant à l’égard des mondes » .
Ce qui précède montre comment la famille du Prophète, ici réduite à ses
épouses, constitue dans la Révélation le point d’intersection entre l’intemporel de la Parole divine et la temporalité, voire la localisation, des circonstances qui provoquent sa descente, c’est-à-dire son expression humaine.
C’est cet équilibre entre le plan divin et le plan humain qui confère à
l’Homme, hommes et femmes, la perfection dont le Prophète est le modèle le
plus parfait. Comme dit ‘Abd al-Karīm al-Jīlī (m. 1409) à propos de l’Homme
48
parfait ou universel, il y a parfait et plus parfait (al-kāmil wa l-akmal) .
Tous les saints n’ont pas nécessairement été des maris exemplaires ni leurs
épouses de même ; néanmoins c’est le modèle qui leur a été donné et qu’ils
se sont efforcés de suivre, pour nombre d’entre eux.
Les passages du Coran concernant la relation du Prophète avec ses
46 Futūhāt, IV 84-85, chap. 463. Ismā‘īl Haqqī Bursawī (m. 1725) cite Ibn ‘Arabī sans le
nommer (contrairement à son habitude) à propos de ces versets de la sourate alTahrīm : Rūh al-bayān, X 53-55. L’Émir Abd el Kader (m. 1882), à la suite d'Ibn
‘Arabī, y voit une opposition complémentaire entre la Présence de l’Acte (hadrat
al-fi‘l) et la Présence de la Réceptivité ou Possibilité (al-hadrat al-imkāniyya), alMawāqif, I 279-280 n° 127.
47 Fusūs al-hikam, p. 217 ; voir l’ensemble du dernier chapitre consacré au Prophète où
est commenté le hadith : « On m’a fait aimer de ce monde les parfums, les femmes et
la fraîcheur de mon œil a été mise dans la prière », pp. 214-226. Dans la suite des
poèmes consacrés aux sourates du Coran, celui sur la sourate al-Tahrīm reste très allusif et se conclut ainsi : « Si tu sais ce à quoi j’ai fait allusion, je t’ai montré qui elle
est et quel est son secret le plus caché », Ibn ‘Arabī, Dīwān, p. 163.
48 ‘Abd al-Karīm al-Jīlī, al-Insān al-kāmil, II 71, chap. 60.

46

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

femmes seraient difficiles à saisir dans toutes leurs implications sans les précisions de l’exégèse qui s’appuie sur les données de la Sunna. Celle-ci transmet bien d’autres informations sur la vie conjugale du Prophète qui
éclairent d’autres aspects de cette relation et sur sa famille proche et élargie.
Quelle place le Prophète a-t-il donné à ses liens familiaux et quel rôle ses
proches ont-ils joué à ses côtés ?

“L’orphelin d’Abū Tālib“

49

La Sīra débute par l’ascendance du Prophète jusqu’à Ismaël et Abraham et,
de là, jusqu’à Adam. L’intention est claire : le situer dans la lignée des prophètes, et le modèle évident : celui des généalogies bibliques. En énumérant
ses ancêtres, le Prophète ne remontait pas si haut mais dans d’autres traditions, il n’en affirme pas moins la pureté de son lignage depuis les origines
de l’humanité. « Je suis le meilleur des hommes, de par mon âme et ma fa50
mille (anā khayruhum nafsan wa baytan) » . Sa famille, au sens large, c’est
d’abord sa tribu. C’est du moins ainsi qu’Ibn ‘Abbās comprenait le verset :
« Dis : je ne vous demande pas pour cela de salaire, si ce n’est l’amour de la
parenté » (Coran 42, 23), qu’il commentait ainsi : « Il n’y a de clan de Qu51
raysh qui n’ait de lien de parenté avec l’Envoyé de Dieu » . Après la mention de ses ancêtres, la vie du Prophète commence généralement par celle de
son grand-père paternel ‘Abd al-Muttalib fils de Hāshim qui avait eu seize
52
enfants de cinq femmes . Le Prophète nomma sa fille préférée vraisemblablement en souvenir de sa grand-mère Fātima bint ‘Amr, mère de son père
‘Abd Allāh et de son oncle Abū Tālib. ‘Abd Allāh décède à Médine alors que
49 Cette dénomination du Prophète est mise dans la bouche du père de Khadīja bint
Khuwaylid. Selon une tradition assez curieuse, rapportée par Ibn Hanbal, celle-ci
provoque l’ivresse de son père qui la marie à son insu à Muhammad. Quand il retrouve ses sens et qu’elle le lui annonce, il s’exclame : « Moi, marier à ma fille
l’orphelin d’Abū Tālib, jamais de la vie ! ». Cette expression souligne autant la fragilité de la condition sociale du Prophète que l’élection dont il est l’objet ; cf.
Musnad, I 312 ; cité par Maqrizī (m. 1442), Imtā‘ al-asmā‘, éd. Shākir, p. 10-11.
50 Cité par Ibn al-Athīr (m. 1210), Jāmi‘ al-usūl, VIII 534-6, d’après Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘,
manāqib, fadl al-nabī. Voir les hadiths sur ce thème réunis par Bayhaqī (m. 1066),
Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, I 165-82 (bāb dhikr sharf asl rasūl Allāh wa nasabihi), Ibn Kathīr
(m. 1373), Bidāya wa nihāya, II 252-57 et Burhānfūrī, Kanz al-‘ummāl, XI 401-2
51 Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān, XXV 15-16 ; voir aussi par Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, I
184-5. Tabarī mentionne néanmoins la revendication par ‘Alī b. Husayn (Zayn
al-‘ābidīn) de cette parenté pour les Ahl al-bayt. Ibn Hajar al-Haytamī (m. 1556) fait
état des deux interprétations mais s’emploie à étayer la seconde ; cf. al-Sawā‘iq almuhriqa, p. 104 sqq.
52 Sur eux, voir Ibn Hishām, Sīra, I 108. Il est dit de l’aîné des fils, al-Zubayr, qu’il
faisait « danser » Muhammad dans son tout jeune âge, ibid. note 2.

47

DENIS GRIL

son épouse, Āmina bint Wahb est enceinte. ‘Abd al-Muttalib prend en
charge Muhammad qui est allaité d’abord par Thuwayba, esclave de son
oncle Abū Lahab et affranchie par lui quand elle lui annonce la naissance de
l’enfant. Celui-ci est confié ensuite à Halīma des Banū Sa‘d. On connaît le
récit de la bénédiction due à cet allaitement, de son insistance pour garder
l’enfant après son sevrage et de l’ouverture de la poitrine de Muhammad par
53
deux anges, ce qui la remplit d’effroi et la pousse à le ramener à sa mère .
L’allaitement génère des liens familiaux que le Prophète n’oublie pas. Quand
il conquiert La Mecque la huitième année de l’Hégire, une femme des Banū
Sa‘d vient lui apporter du beurre et du fromage séché. Elle entre en islam, lui
apprend le décès de Halīma et l’informe que ses deux frères et deux sœurs
de lait sont dans la misère. Le Prophète verse des larmes en apprenant le décès de sa mère de lait et confie à cette femme un chameau, des habits et de
54
l’argent pour ses proches . Après la bataille de Hunayn, la même année, une
femme emmenée avec les prisonniers, se fait connaître au Prophète comme
sa sœur de lait Shaymā’, fille de Halīma. Comme il lui demande de le lui
prouver, elle découvre son bras et lui montre la trace d’une morsure qu’il lui
avait faite. Il la reconnaît alors, étend son manteau pour la faire asseoir et la
55
renvoie chez elle honorée .
Muhammad perd sa mère à l’âge de six ans. C’est alors Umm Ayman Baraka, esclave abyssinienne de son père, qui veille sur lui. Il l’affranchit plus
56
tard et la marie à Zayd b. Hāritha dont elle aura Usāma. Avant de mourir à
son tour, deux ans après le décès d’Āmina, ‘Abd al-Muttalib confie l’orphelin à son fils Abū Tālib qui ne se départira jamais d’une grande affection et
d’un soutien indéfectible à son neveu. Parmi ses autres oncles, Hamza puis
al-‘Abbās jouent un rôle important à ses côtés, à l’inverse de leur frère Abū
Lahab, opposant farouche au Prophète et voué avec sa femme à l’Enfer par
le Coran (sourate 111). L’attachement de Muhammad à son oncle Abū Tālib
est tel qu’il insiste pour l’accompagner en Syrie. Il y rencontre le moine Bahīra et plus tard, quand il voyage pour le compte de Khadīja, un autre ascète
qui prédit également sa destinée de prophète. Orphelin, Muhammad a donc
bénéficié d’un certain entourage. La sollicitude d’Abū Tālib à son égard renforce les liens avec ses cousins, ‘Aqīl, Ja‘far et surtout ‘Alī, ainsi qu’avec sa
53 Sur les mères, père, frères et sœurs de lait du Prophète et son séjour chez les Banū
Sa‘d, voir Ibn Hishām, Sīra, I61-67 ; Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, I 132-49 ; Maqrizī,
Imtā‘ al-asmā‘, éd. Shākir, pp. 5-6.
54 Maqrizī, Imtā‘ al-asmā‘, éd. Shākir, pp. 397-98.
55 Ibn Kathīr, Bidāya, IV 363-4.
56 Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, I 149-50.

48

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

cousine Umm Hāni’. C’est de la maison de celle-ci que part le Voyage nocturne, selon une de ses versions. Il la retrouve lors de la conquête de La Mecque
et entérine la protection qu’elle accorde à deux Qurayshites. Quand la persécution s’intensifie à La Mecque après la disparition d’Abū Tālib et de Kha dīja, le clan des Banū Hāshim reste fidèle au Prophète, envers et contre tous.

La fondation d’une famille
À l’âge de vingt-cinq ans, Muhammad épouse Khadīja, une noble et riche
veuve âgée de quarante ans. De leur vie conjugale et familiale, très peu est
rapporté, si ce n’est le nom de leurs huit enfants : trois garçons morts en bas
âge, Qāsim, al-Tāhir et Tayyib et quatre filles, Zaynab, Ruqayya, Umm Kul57
thūm et Fātima . La tradition a surtout retenu de Khadīja son rôle de confirmatrice de la Révélation et son excellence spirituelle qui fait d’elle l’une des
femmes parfaites, aux côtés de Marie, Āsiya, la femme de Pharaon et parfois
58
de sa fille Fātima . ‘Ā’isha qui, sans l’avoir connue, la considérait comme
une rivale, témoigne de l’amour que le Prophète continuait à porter à Khadīja, bien des années après sa mort. D’après ‘Ā’isha, quand Abū l-‘Ās, le mari
de Zaynab resté païen, est fait prisonnier à Badr, sa femme, fille du Prophète, envoie de La Mecque pour sa rançon une somme d’argent et un col lier précieux qui appartenait à Khadīja et que celle-ci lui avait donné pour
son mariage. Lorsqu’à Médine, le Prophète aperçoit ce collier, il en est très
affecté et propose à ses compagnons de libérer le prisonnier et de renvoyer
la rançon, en échange de quoi il devra laisser Zaynab rejoindre les musul59
mans . Quelque temps plus tard Abū l-‘Ās se convertit et retrouve son
épouse. Autre souvenir : le Prophète se trouve dans la chambre de ‘Ā’isha
57 Selon l’ordre donné par Ibn Ishāq (m. 767). Ibn Hishām (m. 828 ou 833), place alTayyib avant al-Tāhir et Ruqayya avant Zaynab, cf. Sīra, I 190 et Tabarī, Tārīkh, II
281. Selon Ibn al-Jawzī (m. 1200), l’aîné est al-Qāsim suivi par les filles, al-Tayyib et
al-Tāhir seraient nés en islam, contrairement à l’avis d’Ibn Hishām selon lesquels les
trois garçons sont morts avant la révélation. Ibn al-Jawzī précise que Sulaymā, esclave ou affranchie de Safiyya bint ‘Abd al-Muttalib, assista Khadīja dans tous ses
accouchements ; cf. al-Wafā, II 361.
58 Bukhāri et Muslim ne mentionnent que trois femmes parfaites, cf. Sahīh, anbiyā 32,
fadā’il ashāb al-nabī 30 et Sahīh, fadā’il al-sahāba 72. Le hadith ajoute : « et le mérite
de ‘Ā’isha est comparable à la supériorité du tharīd (bouillon de viande trempé de
pain) sur toute nourriture. Dans d’autres hadiths, Khadīja n’est comparée qu’à Marie, ibid., anbiyā 45 et fadā’il al-sahāba 71. Une version plus répandue inclut Fātima,
cf. Ibn ‘Asākir, al-Arba‘īn fī manāqib ummahāt al-mu’minīn, p. 57 ; Ibn al-Athīr,
Jāmi‘ al-usūl, IX 124-25 qui mentionne un autre hadith sur les quatre femmes parfaites d’après Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib (Khadīja), Tuhfat al-ahwadhī, IV 366.
59 Cf. Abū Dāwud, Sunan, jihād 121, III 62 n° 2692.

49

DENIS GRIL

quand il entend la voix de Hāla, la sœur de Khadīja, qui demande la permission d’entrer. Ému, il s’exclame : « Mon Dieu, Hāla ! ». Prise de jalousie,
‘Ā’isha s’étonne : « Tu te souviens encore d’une vieille qurayshite toute
édentée et morte il y a des lustres, alors que Dieu l’a remplacée par
60
meilleure qu’elle ! » . ‘Ā’isha avoue n’avoir jamais été aussi jalouse d’une
femme tant le Prophète parlait de Khadīja. Il racontait que Gabriel lui avait
demandé d’annoncer à Khadīja qu’elle aurait une demeure dans le Paradis.
De plus, quand il sacrifiait un mouton, il réservait une part pour les an61
ciennes amies de son épouse défunte . À l’une des manifestations de jalousie de ‘Ā’isha à l’égard de sa première femme, il répond : « J’ai été nourri
62
d’amour pour elle » (ruziqtu hubbahā) . C’est en effet avec Khadīja que le
Prophète fonde une famille dont la postérité, par l’intermédiaire de Fātima, a
traversé le temps et l’espace, donné naissance à de nombreux saints et qui
perdurera, selon l’annonce du Prophète, jusqu’à l’apparition du Mahdī, Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh, descendant de Fātima.

Dans les appartements des femmes

63

À Médine, la vie familiale du Prophète se partage entre sa vie conjugale et
son rôle de père et de grand-père. On a déjà vu la place centrale de ses
épouses, dont les appartements jouxtent la mosquée, dans la vie de la communauté. Les alliances avec ses beaux-pères, Abū Bakr et ‘Umar, et ses
gendres, ‘Uthmān et ‘Alī, ont eu l’importance que l’on sait, de son vivant et
après sa mort. Mentionnons-le ici pour mémoire, dans la mesure où des liens analogues se tissent souvent entre le maître et les disciples.
Après la mort de Khadīja, le Prophète ne se remarie que peu de temps
avant l’Hégire avec Sawda bint Zam‘a qui avait émigré en Abyssinie avec
son mari, décédé peu après leur retour. Quelques mois après son arrivée à
Médine, il consomme son mariage avec ‘Ā’isha, âgée de neuf ans, fille de son
plus fidèle ami et compagnon. Malgré son très jeune âge, elle occupe une
place privilégiée dans le cœur du Prophète, dont elle restera la préférée, au
milieu des autres femmes qui entrent progressivement dans la maisonnée.
De cette place et de sa relation avec les autres épouses, elle est le principal
témoin grâce au très grand nombre de hadiths transmis par elle. Sans son té60
61
62
63

Bukhārī, Sahīh, manāqib al-Ansār 20, n° 3821 ; Muslim, Fadā’il al-sahāba 78, VII 134.
Bukhārī, ibid. n° 3816.
Muslim, ibid. 79.
Sur les épouses du Prophète, voir Magali Morsy, Les femmes du Prophète, Paris,
Mercure de France, 1989.

50

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

moignage, il serait très difficile, voire impossible de se faire une idée de la
64
65
vie intime et familiale du Prophète . Après la mort de ce dernier , elle ne se
contente pas de transmettre son enseignement et ses propres souvenirs,
mais émet des avis sur toutes sortes de sujets et joue un rôle politique sous
le califat de ‘Alī. Abū Mūsā al-Ash‘arī disait d’elle : « Lorsqu’un hadith nous
posait problème, à nous, compagnons de l’Envoyé de Dieu, nous n’interro66
gions jamais ‘Ā’isha sans trouver chez elle une science à ce sujet » .
Ā’isha rapporte que le Prophète, bien avant leur mariage, vit en songe
67
son image sur une pièce de soie apportée par un ange , ce qui confère à
cette union un caractère providentiel et sacré que ne contredit pas la familiarité de leur relation. Le Prophète tient tout d’abord compte de la jeunesse
68
de ‘Ā’isha et insiste pour qu’elle continue à jouer avec ses camarades . Il
fait la course avec elle ; la jeune femme gagne la première fois mais se laisse
distancer par son époux un peu plus tard quand elle a pris un peu d’embon69
point . Elle raconte également comment le Prophète la laisse regarder la
danse des Abyssins un jour de fête, car il faut tenir compte du besoin de dis 70
traction de la jeunesse . Malgré son jeune âge, la force de son caractère
cause parfois quelque tension entre elle et le Prophète. Si elle en fait état,
c’est avant tout pour souligner l’indulgence de celui-ci à son égard, à l’opposé d’une conception sans nuance de l’autorité du mari et même du respect
absolu dû à sa personne sacrée. Le Prophète lui déclare un jour : « Je sais
quand tu es contente de moi et quand tu es fâchée. – Comment le sais-tu, lui
demande-t-elle ? – Quand tu es contente de moi, tu dis : ‘Non, par le Seigneur de Muhammad !’ et lorsque tu es fāchée, tu dis : ‘Non, par le Seigneur

64 Son principal transmetteur est son neveu ‘Urwa b. al-Zubayr, fils d’Asmā’ sœur de
‘Ā’isha, né après la mort du Prophète, il vécut jusqu’à la fin du 1 er siècle de l’Hégire.
Sur lui et sa transmission du hadith, voir Gregor Schoeler, Écrire et transmettre dans
les débuts de l’islam, Paris, Puf, pp. 45-49. L’autre témoin privilégié de la vie familiale
du Prophète est son jeune serviteur Anas b. Mālik, d’une famille des Ansār. Entré à
son service à l’âge de dix ans, il côtoya le Prophète durant les dix années de sa vie à
Médine et mourut âgé de cent ans.
65 Elle a dix-huit ans à la mort du Prophète et meurt en 58 H.
66 Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib ‘Ā’isha ; Ibn al-Athīr, Jāmi‘ al-usūl, IX 134.
67 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII 64 ; Bukhārī, Sahīh, manāqib al-Ansār 44, nikāh 36 ; Tirmidhī,
manāqib 62.
68 Muslim, Sahīh, fadā’il al-sahāba 81 ; Ibn Māja, Sunan, nikāh 50 n° 1982.
69 Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 39, 129, 182, 261 ; Ibn Māja, Sunan, nikāh 50 n° 1979 ; Abū
Dāwud, Sunan, III 65 n° 2578 ; Maqrīzī, Imtā‘ al-asmā‘, 2e éd. II 255.
70 Bukhārī, Sahīh, nikāh 83 n° 5190 ; Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 116.

51

DENIS GRIL

d’Abraham’. – C’est vrai, par Dieu, ô Envoyé de Dieu, mais je ne me dé 71
tourne que de ton nom » .
La jalousie mais parfois aussi la complicité marquent les relations entre
les coépouses. ‘Ā’isha reçoit un jour une certaine Sawda al-Yamāniyya, élégamment habillée et parfumée. Hafsa qui est présente s’en inquiète et dit à
sa consœur en aparté : « L’Envoyé de Dieu va venir, alors que celle-ci est
dans tous ses atours ? » ‘Ā’isha a beau lui dire : « Crains Dieu, Hafsa ! »,
cette dernière lui promet qu’elle va lui gâcher ses beaux habits. Sawda, un
peu dure d’oreille, leur demande de quoi elles parlent. Hafsa lui déclare : Ô
Sawda, le Borgne (c’est-à-dire l’Antéchrist) est arrivé ! ». L’invitée, prise de
panique, leur demande où se cacher. Les deux femmes lui indiquent une
sorte de hutte de feuilles de palmiers, pleine de saletés et de toiles d’araignée
où elle se cache. Entretemps arrive le Prophète qui trouve les deux consœurs
en train de rire et leur en demande la raison. Sans répondre, elles finissent
par lui indiquer la hutte. Le Prophète va voir et y trouve la pauvre Sawda
tremblante de peur. Il lui demande ce qu’elle a et elle de répondre : « Le
Borgne est arrivé ! ». Le Prophète s’exclame : « Il n’est pas arrivé mais il
viendra ; il n’est pas arrivé mais il viendra ! ». Il l’a fait sortir en l’épousse72
tant et en la débarrassant des toiles d’araignée .
Entre les épouses elles-mêmes, la plaisanterie l’emporte parfois sur la rivalité. ‘Ā’isha apporte au Prophète une harīra, bouillie de farine et de gras
de viande ou de lait. Sa coépouse Sawda est présente et le Prophète se
trouve entre elle et ‘Ā’isha. Celle-ci invite Sawda à en goûter mais devant
son refus, elle la menace de lui en barbouiller le visage, ce qu’elle finit par
faire. Le Prophète rit et invite Sawda à faire de même, ce dont elle ne se
prive pas. Le Prophète rit encore mais entend la voix de ‘Umar. Pensant qu’il
va entrer, il envoie les deux femmes se laver le visage. ‘Ā’isha qui raconte
l’histoire ajoute : « Je n’ai cessé ensuite d’éprouver un sentiment de crainte
respectueuse (hayba) pour ‘Umar en raison de l’attitude du Prophète à son
73
égard » . Comme la précédente, cette anecdote vise à rappeler que l’humour
et la gaieté ont leur place dans un contexte chargé de sacralité, mais, en ce
qui concerne les femmes, dans l’intimité de la vie conjugale, rompue ici par
l’arrivée de ‘Umar dont la seule voix rappelle au Prophète le sérieux de sa
71 Bukhārī, Sahīh, nikāh 109 n° 5228.
72 al-Kāndihlawī, Hayāt al-sahāba, III 347-8, d’après al-Haythamī, Majma‘ al-zawā’id,
IV 316, d’après Abū Ya‘lā et Tabarānī.
73 Al-Haythamī, Majma‘ al-zawā’id, IV 315-6 ; voir autres références dans Kāndihlawī,
Hayāt al-sahāba, III 346.

52

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

fonction. Cet exemple comme beaucoup d’autres illustre la tension et la relation entre les deux faces du sacré, celle du privé et du communautaire ou encore la simplicité d’un homme parmi ses épouses et la gravité de son rôle
d’Envoyé de Dieu.
D’après Anas, les épouses se retrouvaient le soir dans la chambre de
celle dont c’était le tour. Elles se trouvent donc un soir chez ‘Ā’isha. Zaynab
entre et le Prophète tend la main vers elle. La prend-il dans l’obscurité pour
‘Ā’isha ? Toujours est-il que celle-ci, furieuse, s’écrie : « C’est Zaynab ! » et
le Prophète retire aussitôt sa main. Les deux femmes se mettent à se dispu ter en élevant la voix. À ce moment là, on appelle à la prière de la nuit. Abū
Bakr entend leur voix et s’écrie : « Ô Envoyé de Dieu, sors pour la prière et
ferme-leur la bouche avec de la terre ! ». Le Prophète sorti, ‘Ā’isha se dit
qu’après la prière son père va venir la corriger. Il vient effectivement et l’ad74
moneste vertement .
‘Ā’isha n’hésite pas à évoquer sa jalousie à l’égard de ses coépouses. Elle
le fait d’autant plus volontiers qu’en ressort l’attitude exemplaire du Prophète. Il existe différentes versions d’un hadith où un homme interroge
‘Ā’isha sur le caractère (khuluq) du Prophète. Elle lui répond : « Ne lis-tu
pas le Coran ? ». Dans l’une des versions, elle ajoute : « Son caractère était
le Coran » et dans d’autres, elle cite le verset : « Et tu es selon un caractère
magnifique » (Coran 68, 4). Dans l’une de ces dernières versions, elle se
donne elle-même en contre-exemple : « J’avais préparé un plat pour le Prophète et Hafsa avait fait de même. Je dis à ma servante : ‘Va et si elle apporte
ce qu’elle a préparé avant moi, fais-le tomber’. Hafsa l’apporta et la servante
s’arrangea pour le faire tomber. Le plat se brisa sur la nappe de cuir (nit‘).
L’envoyé de Dieu ramassa la nourriture, dit à Hafsa : ‘Prenez en guise de ta75
lion un autre plat à la place’ et ne dit rien de plus » .
74 Muslim, Sahīh, radā‘ 47, IV 173-4 ; cité par Ibn al-Athīr, Jāmi‘ al-usūl, XI 516-17.
75 Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 111 ; Ibn Māja, Sunan, ahkām 14 n° 2333 : « …prenez un plat
à la place du vôtre et mangez ce qu’il contient ». ‘Ā’isha ajoute : « je ne vis rien de
cela sur le visage de l’Envoyé de Dieu ». L’histoire du plat est racontée par ‘Ā’isha
sous d’autres formes ; cf. Dāraqutnī, Sunan, IV 152. Une autre fois c’est Safiyya qui
envoie de la nourriture au Prophète qui est chez ‘Ā’isha qui lui a déjà préparé son
repas. Prise de colère, elle casse le plat. Cette fois-ci le Prophète la regarde courroucé
et elle s’exclame : « Je me réfugie dans l’Envoyé de Dieu contre sa malédiction aujourd’hui ! ». Prise de remords, elle lui demande comment expier son acte et le
Prophète lui répond : « par une nourriture comme la sienne et un plat comme le
sien », cf. Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 277. Voir aussi Bukhārī, Sahīh, nikāh 108, n° 5225
où l’anecdote est rapportée par Anas qui parle discrètement « d’une de ses
femmes ».

53

DENIS GRIL

Le Prophète respectait le partage de ses nuits et de ses jours entre ses
femmes et disait, selon le témoignage de ‘Ā’isha : « Mon Dieu, tel est mon
partage pour ce que je maîtrise ; ne me blâme pas pour ce que tu maîtrises et
76
que je ne maîtrise pas » – c’est-à-dire le cœur . La préférence du Prophète
pour ‘Ā’isha était connue de tous, de sorte que les gens choisissaient le jour
où le Prophète était avec elle et donc dans la meilleure des dispositions pour
lui apporter leurs cadeaux. Selon ‘Ā’isha, les femmes du Prophète constituaient deux partis : son propre parti, avec Hafsa, Safiyya et Sawda, et
l’autre, regroupant les autres épouses. Ces dernières dépêchent Umm Salama auprès du Prophète pour qu’il dise aux gens d’envoyer leurs cadeaux où
qu’il se trouve, chez ‘Ā’isha et chez les autres. Umm Salama, poussée par les
autres, revient trois fois à la charge, mais le Prophète ne répond rien, si ce
n’est qu’il finit par lui dire : « Ne me cause pas de tort au sujet de ‘Ā’isha » ;
la Révélation ne m’est jamais venue alors que je me trouvai sous l’habit (ou
la couverture) d’une femme, si ce n’est ‘Ā’isha. À cette réponse, Umm Salama s’excuse et se retire. Toutefois les autres ne lâchent pas prise et envoient
Fātima qui transmet ce message : « Tes femmes te demandent justice à propos de la fille d’Abū Bakr ». Le Prophète lui répond : « Ma fille, n’aimes-tu
pas ce que j’aime ? – Si, admet-elle, sans insister. Un troisième essai est tenté avec Zaynab bint Jahsh qui lui tient les mêmes propos que Fātima mais
avec plus de vigueur et en s’en prenant cette fois-ci à ‘Ā’isha qui est couchée
avec le Prophète sous une cape (mirt). ‘Ā’isha réplique et le Prophète la
laisse faire, se contentant de remarquer pour clore le débat : « C’est la fille
77
d’Abū Bakr » . Ce récit montre le Prophète impassible au milieu de ce conflit conjugal dont on remarque une fois de plus qu’il concerne aussi la communauté des croyants dans leur relation avec lui. Il ne cherche pas à arbitrer
entre les deux partis, ni n’admoneste ses épouses, mais se contente de rappeler ce qui dépend non pas de lui mais du choix divin, qu’il s’agisse de son
amour pour la fille d’Abū Bakr ou de l’intimité de cette dernière avec la Révélation. Du point de vue de la prophétie comme de celui de la sainteté,
seules l’élection et la grâce départagent les hommes, quels que soient leurs
œuvres et leurs mérites propres.
76 Abū Dāwud, Sunan, nikāh 38, n° 2134 ; Ibn Māja, Sunan, nikāh 47, n° 1971 ; Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 144. La précision finale vient de l’un des rapporteurs du hadith.
77 Bukhārī, Sahīh, hiba 8, n° 2581 et fadā’il ashāb al-nabī 47 n° 3775 ; Muslim, Sahīh,
fadā’il al-sahāba VII 136-7 (dans cette dernière version, ‘Ā’isha fait l’éloge de Zaynab tout en affirmant qu’elle l’a fait taire promptement) ; Nasā’ī, Sunan, ‘ishrat alnisā’ 3. Pour les diverses versions de ce récit, voir Ibn al-Athīr, Jāmi‘ al-usūl IX 136141 n° 6686.

54

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

La préférence du Prophète pour ‘Ā’isha est rappelée notamment par Yāsir b. ‘Ammār qui pourtant prit parti pour ‘Alī qui s’opposa à elle lors de la
78
bataille du Chameau . Elle s’explique en partie par sa présence à ses côtés
dans ses moments de retraite, dans sa relation intime avec son Seigneur
dont elle est le témoin et dont elle transmet les enseignements à la généra tion des Suivants. Elle s’étonne de voir le Prophète prier jusqu’à avoir les
pieds tuméfiés à la suite de longues stations debout en prière de veille : « Ô
Envoyé de Dieu, fais-tu cela, alors que Dieu t’a pardonné ton péché, passé et
79
à venir ? – Ô ‘Ā’isha, répond-il, ne serais-je pas un serviteur reconnais80
sant ? » . Elle décrit parfois précisément la manière dont le Prophète passait
la nuit à ses côtés mais s’échappait parfois pour répondre à l’appel de Dieu,
le plus discrètement possible. Le texte suivant mérite d’être traduit intégralement :
« ‘Ā’isha raconte : une nuit que le Prophète passait chez moi, il
vint se coucher, enleva son vêtement de dessus, ôta ses sandales,
les plaça à ses pieds, étendit un côté de son pagne sur le lit et s’al longea. Peu de temps après, pensant que je dormais, il reprit son
vêtement de dessus doucement, remit ses sandales de même, ouvrit la porte, sortit et la referma sans bruit. Je remontai ma tunique sur la tête pour me couvrir, serrai mon pagne et le suivit.
81
Arrivé à al-Baqī‘ , il se tint longuement debout élevant les mains
trois fois puis s’en retourna rapidement. Je me hâtai. Il accéléra le
pas et je fis de même. Il courut presque et je réussis à le devancer.
J’entrai et à peine m’étais-je recouchée, qu’il entra. – Qu’as-tu,
‘Ā’isha, à être ainsi essoufflée ? demanda-t-il. – Rien, lui répondis-je. – Tu vas me dire ce qu’il y a, sinon ce sera le Subtil, le
Bien-Informé qui me l’apprendra. – Ô Envoyé de Dieu, par mon
père et ma mère … et je lui dis ce qu’il en était. – Tu étais donc
cette forme noire que j’ai vue devant moi ? – Oui ! Il me frappa la
poitrine de la paume de sa main et me fit mal. – Pensais-tu que
78 ‘Ammār dit à un homme qui parle mal de ‘Ā’isha : « Dis-tu du mal de la bien-aimée
de l’Envoyé de Dieu ? Elle est son épouse au Paradis », Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII 65 ; cf.
Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib ‘Ā’isha, d’après Ibn al-Athīr, Jāmi‘ al-usūl, IX 135.
79 Cf. Coran 48, 2.
80 Muslim, Sahīh, munāfiqīn 81, Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 115. Dans d’autres versions
identiques, le questionneur est anonyme, cf. Muslim, ibid. 79, 80 ; Bukhārī, Sahīh, tahajjud 6 n° 1130.
81 Le cimetière de Baqī‘ al-Gharqad, situé à l’est de la Mosquée, du côté où se trouvaient les appartements des épouses du Prophète.

55

DENIS GRIL

Dieu te ferait injustice ainsi que son Envoyé ? – Quoi que l’on
82
cache, Dieu lui le sait, oui , répondit-elle. – Gabriel, lui dit le Prophète, est venu me trouver et m’a appelé, sans te le faire entendre
et je lui ai répondu, en te le cachant, car il n’aurait su entrer, alors
que tu avais enlevé tes vêtements. J’ai cru que tu dormais et je
n’ai pas voulu te réveiller, craignant que tu ne t’inquiètes. Gabriel
m’a dit : ton Seigneur t’ordonne de te rendre auprès des habitants
d’al-Baqī‘ et de demander pardon pour eux. Je lui demandai alors,
dit ‘Ā’isha, comment prier pour eux. – Dis, m’enseigna-t-il : Paix
sur les habitants d’une demeure parmi les croyants et les musulmans. Que Dieu fasse miséricorde à ceux d’entre nous qui ont
précédé et à ceux qui suivront. Nous allons, si Dieu veut, vous re83
joindre » .
On a vu comment les femmes du Prophète et ‘Ā’isha en particulier vivent
l’intervention de la Révélation dans leur vie conjugale. Cette proximité se
traduit à un certain moment par une vision de l’archange sous la forme de
Dihya al-Kalbī, un Compagnon connu pour sa beauté, mais sans savoir qu’il
s’agit de Gabriel. Elle raconte qu’elle le voit sur un cheval parlant au Prophète. Quand celui-ci vient la trouver, elle lui demande qui est cet homme.
Le Prophète lui demande si elle l’a vu et à qui il ressemble. Elle répond : « à
Dihya al-Kalbī », et le Prophète de lui dire : « Tu as vu un bien immense ;
c’est Gabriel ». Quelques instants plus tard, il lui annonce que Gabriel lui
transmet son salut. Elle demande au Prophète de le saluer pareillement,
84
priant Dieu qu’il le récompense pour le bien qu’il a apporté .
Ce qui précède explique que le Prophète, éprouvé par la maladie et sentant sa fin proche, réunisse ses femmes et leur demande l’autorisation de
rester dans la chambre de ‘Ā’isha, où il sera enterré après son décès. ‘Ā’isha,
ne se rendant sans doute pas compte au début de la gravité de la maladie et
entendant le Prophète se plaindre de la douleur, n’hésite pas à lui dire : « Si
82 Dans d’autres versions, elle avoue avoir pensé d’abord que le Prophète était allé rejoindre une autre de ses épouses.
83 Muslim, Sahīh, janā’iz 103 ; Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 221 ; Nasā’ī, Sunan, janā’iz 103 ;
‘ishrat al-nisā’ 4. Dans d’autres versions plus courtes, le Prophète apprend à ‘Ā’isha
que cette nuit est celle du milieu de sha‘bān, appelée la Nuit de l’affranchissement
(laylat al-barā’a). Dieu descend cette nuit et pardonne aux hommes ; cf. Tirmidhī,
Jāmi‘, sawm 39, Ibn Māja, Sunan, iqāma 191, Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 238.
84 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII 67-8. Une telle vision est aussi attribuée à Umm Salama, cf.
Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, VII 68. Mais ‘Ā’isha est la seule épouse, avec Khadīja,
à qui le Prophète transmette la salutation de Jibrīl.

56

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

l’une d’entre nous se plaignait ainsi, tu serais fâché contre elle ». Le Prophète lui transmet alors, comme à chaque fois, un enseignement : « Ne saistu pas que le croyant est éprouvé durement dans sa maladie pour être ab85
sous de ses fautes » . Elle est le témoin de ses derniers instants et de sa dernière parole : « L’Envoyé de Dieu disait quand il était en bonne santé : ‘Un
prophète ne meurt pas sans qu’on lui fasse voir sa place au Paradis, puis on
lui donne le choix’. Lorsque l’heure fut proche, sa tête était sur ma cuisse. Il
perdit connaissance puis reprit conscience. Son regard fixa le plafond et il
dit : ‘Le Compagnon suprême !’. Je sus alors qu’il ne nous choisissait pas et
qu’il s’agissait de ce dont il nous avait parlé quand il était en bonne santé.
86
Telle fut la dernière parole que prononça l’Envoyé de Dieu » .

Le choix de l’au-delà
La centralité de la figure de ‘Ā’isha et l’abondance des traditions transmises
par elle et sur elle laissent quelque peu dans l’ombre ses coépouses, décédées
avant elle et n’ayant pas ou peu eu de transmetteurs de leur propre famille.
Les hadiths concernant les autres épouses évoquent le plus souvent les circonstances de leur mariage, quelques affaires de jalousie et de rivalité ou
certains de leurs mérites. Comme on l’a vu, le Prophète ayant eu l’intention
de se séparer de Hafsa, revient sur sa décision grâce à l’intervention de Gabriel qui lui dit : « Ne la répudie pas car elle pratique constamment le jeûne
87
et la prière de veille » . Zaynab bint Jahsh était connue pour sa générosité
et travaillait de ses mains pour gagner de quoi dépenser en aumônes. Les
traditions décrivant la vie du Prophète parmi les siens soulignent la grande
simplicité de son comportement et la pauvreté, à la fois subie et choisie, de
leur existence.
« Comment était le Prophète lorsqu’il se retirait chez lui ? demande-t-on
à ‘Ā’isha. – Il était le plus conciliant et le plus généreux des hommes. C’était
88
un homme comme vous, si ce n’est qu’il riait et souriait beaucoup » .
85 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, II 208.
86 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, II 229. Dans la plupart des traditions ‘Ā’isha dit que la tête du Prophète se trouvait entre le haut et le bas de sa gorge (bayna sahrī wa nahrī). Voir l’ensemble des traditions sur la maladie et la mort du Prophète, ibid. II 206-274. À la fin
de ce passage, Ibn Sa‘d rapporte quelques traditions selon lesquels le Prophète serait
mort, la tête dans le giron de ‘Alī. Le lavage et la mise en terre ont été en tout cas effectués par la famille : ‘Alī, al-Fadl b. ‘Abbās, Usāma, en présence d’al-‘Abbās, ibid.
277-308. Qutham, fils d’al-‘Abbās, était également présent selon Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt,
IV 367.
87 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII 84.
88 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, I 365.

57

DENIS GRIL

Quand on lui demande ce qu’il faisait chez lui, elle répond : « Il était au service de ses femmes (fī mahnat ahlihi). Quand venait le temps de la prière, il
89
se levait pour aller prier » . Une autre fois, elle répond : « Ce que chacun
90
fait ; il reprisait son vêtement et recousait ses sandales » ou encore : « Il
91
s’occupait aux tâches ménagères, en particulier la couture » . Elle racontait
également : « Il travaillait chez lui. C’était un être humain ; il épouillait son
92
vêtement, trayait sa brebis et vaquait à ses affaires » . En insistant sur la
participation du Prophète aux tâches domestiques, ces traditions mettent en
valeur son humilité et l’excellence de son comportement à l’égard de ses
épouses. Elles soulignent également sa disponibilité, non seulement envers
tous les membres de sa communauté, quels qu’ils soient, mais également au
sein de sa famille, comme le rappelle ce hadith de ‘Ā’isha : « Personne
n’avait meilleur caractère que l’Envoyé de Dieu ; aucun de ses compagnons
ou des gens de sa maison ne l’appelait sans qu’il ne réponde : ‘me voici’
93
(labbayka) » .
La vie du Prophète avec ses épouses est empreinte d’une absence totale
de confort et, en matière de nourriture, de frugalité, par nécessité mais aussi
par choix. Selon Abū Hurayra, trois mois pouvaient passer sans qu’aucun
feu ne soit allumé dans les appartements du Prophète ni pour cuire du pain
ni pour préparer un plat. À celui qui lui demande de quoi vivaient les gens
de sa famille, il répond : « des deux ‘noirs’, les dattes et l’eau. Des voisins
parmi les Ansār – Dieu les récompense – avaient des brebis et ils envoyaient
94
un peu de lait au Prophète » . ‘Ā’isha atteste de son côté que jamais la famille de Muhammad n’a été rassasiée de pain d’orge trois jours de suite et
95
que jamais il n’y avait de reste de pain et cela jusqu’à sa mort . D’après Ibn
‘Abbās, des nuits passaient sans que la famille n’ait quoi que ce soit à dîner.
‘Ā’isha raconte encore qu’une nuit Abū Bakr leur avait envoyé, au Prophète
et à elle, un morceau de mouton qu’elle avait découpé avec lui dans l’obscu89
90
91
92
93

Ibid.
Ibid. I 366.
Ibid.
Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 256.
Al-Qādī ‘Iyād, al-Shifā’, I 121. Labbayka est une formule courante pour répondre à
un appel, mais c’est aussi le premier élément de la talbiya par laquelle le pèlerin répond à l’appel de Dieu, transmis par Abraham, de visiter la Maison de Dieu. L’emploi de labbayka pour répondre à un appel peut signifier ici que l’autre, en tant qu’il
appelle, est perçu comme un substitut de Dieu. C’est tout le sens du service
(khidma), dans la tradition du soufisme.
94 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, I 401.
95 Ibid.

58

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

rité. Comme l’auditeur s’étonne qu’ils n’aient pas eu de lampe, elle répond
que si cela avait été le cas, ils se seraient servis de l’huile pour accompagner
96
le pain . Quant au mobilier, il était réduit à sa plus simple expression. Le lit
du Prophète était un matelas de cuir bourré de fibre de palmier. ‘Ā’isha décrit ainsi la chambre où le Prophète reçoit ‘Umar : une natte sur laquelle il
est allongé et qui imprime sa marque sur son flanc, un coussin de cuir rem pli de fibre de palmier et des peaux suspendues à l’odeur encore forte. Elle
raconte qu’une femme des Ansār lui rend visite et s’aperçoit que la couche
du Prophète est constituée d’un manteau (‘abā’a) replié. Elle revient apporter un matelas de laine. Quand il le voit, le Prophète demande ce que c’est.
Elle le lui explique mais il lui demande de le rendre à cette femme. ‘Ā’isha
n’obtempère pas et le Prophète revient trois fois à la charge et lui disant à la
fin : « Ô ‘Ā’isha, si je voulais, Dieu me donnerait des montagnes d’or et d’argent ». En matière de confort minimum, le Prophète se montre intransigeant. Il pliait son manteau en deux pour dormir dessus. Une nuit, il perçoit
un changement et ‘Ā’isha lui explique qu’elle l’a plié en quatre. « Remets-le
comme il était », lui demande-t-il. Quand ‘Umar s’émeut devant la pauvreté
de son mobilier et pleure à l’idée que les empereurs de Byzance et de Perse
sont assis sur des trônes d’or, vêtus de soie et de brocard, le Prophète lui répond : « N’êtes-vous pas satisfaits d’avoir vous l’autre monde et eux ce
97
monde » . Cette vie austère que pratiqueront les premières générations
d’ascètes en islam procède d’un choix délibéré que le Prophète invite ses
épouses à suivre si elles veulent vivre à ses côtés. C’est là le dernier enseignement qu’il laisse en testament à ‘Ā’isha, peu avant sa mort. Il se tient
contre sa poitrine et lui demande ce qu’elle a fait de l’or, quelques dinars
qu’il avait reçus. Elle lui répond qu’elle les a toujours et il lui demande de les
dépenser. Il perd alors connaissance. Retrouvant connaissance, il lui demande à nouveau si elle les a dépensés. Il les fait alors apporter, les compte
et dit : « Qu’est-ce que Muhammad penserait de son Seigneur s’il le rencontre alors que ces dinars sont toujours chez lui ? ». Il les distribua et mou98
rut le jour même » .
La vie du Prophète avec ses femmes, telle que nous la connaissons par
l’intermédiaire de ‘Ā’isha principalement et dont on a vu qu’elle touche sa
relation à Dieu comme avec l’ensemble de la communauté, offre un exemple
d’équilibre, toujours menacé, entre le plan humain et l’autorité transcen96 Ibid. 405. Voir l’ensemble des hadiths pp. 400-410.
97 Voir les traditions rapportées par Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, I 464-69.
98 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, II 237 ; cf. Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, VI 49.

59

DENIS GRIL

dante d’une fonction. Les épouses se conduisent en femmes qu’elles sont
pleinement, mais jamais ne contestent cette autorité. S’il leur arrive de l’outrepasser, le Prophète ne manque pas de leur rappeler, même quand il est
épuisé par la maladie. Il désigne Abū Bakr pour diriger la prière à sa place.
‘Ā’isha objecte que son père a une voix faible et qu’il pleure d’émotion en
récitant le Coran. Le Prophète confirme son choix mais la jeune femme revient à la charge, à son habitude. Le Prophète s’exclame alors : « Vous êtes
99
les femmes qui ont tenté Joseph ! (sawāhib Yūsuf) ». Cette transposition de
l’histoire de Joseph d’un plan à un autre illustre à sa manière la nécessité et
la difficulté de vivre simultanément une vie familiale et conjugale et la
constante conformité à un ordre supérieur, celui de la prophétie et, par analogie, de la sainteté. Le rôle que les femmes du Prophète ont joué dans l’accomplissement de sa fonction est ainsi replacé par lui dans la continuité de
l’histoire prophétique. L’insistance de nombreuses traditions sur l’humanité
du Prophète au milieu de ses femmes non moins humaines et féminines, fait
ressortir d’autant plus leur participation à sa mission prophétique. On attribue au Prophète cette parole : « Je l’emporte sur Adam sur deux points :
mon Satan était incroyant mais Dieu m’a aidé à le maîtriser et il a fait acte
d’islam et mes épouses ont été une aide pour moi, tandis que le Satan
100
d’Adam était incroyant et sa femme une aide pour la faute » .
De fait la mémoire de ses femmes reste indissociablement liée à celle du
Prophète, associée à la sacralité de sa personne. ‘Abd Allāh b. ‘Abbās, apprenant après la prière de l’aube qu’une des femmes du Prophète vient de mourir, se prosterne. Comme on s’étonne de le voir de prosterner à cette heure,
il répond que le Prophète a ordonné de se prosterner à la vision des signes
(cosmiques). Or, dit-il, « quel signe est plus grave que la disparition des
101
épouses du Prophète » . Le souvenir matériel de leur présence était cher au
cœur des Médinois. Lorsque l’écrit du calife al-Walīd b. ‘Abd al-Malik (705–
715) parvint à Médine, ordonnant que ces modestes constructions de terre et
de palmes où elles avaient vécu avec le Prophète soient introduites dans la
Mosquée et donc détruites, « on ne vit jamais autant pleurer que ce jour
102
là » . Pour la génération suivant celle des Compagnons, ces demeures té99 Cf. Ibn Hishām, Sīra, II 652. Dans Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, II 221, c’est Hafsa qui s’attire
cette réponse en proposant son père ‘Umar pour diriger la prière.
100 Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Wafā’, II 23 (sans doute d’après Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa) ;
Suyūtī, Khasā’is, III 139.
101 Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib 63, Tuhfat al-ahwadhī, IV 366.
102 Sur l’aspect de ces appartements, voir Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, I 499-501. Al-Hasan al-Basrī
raconte qu’on pouvait toucher le plafond avec la main.

60

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

moignaient de la pauvreté dans laquelle le Prophète avait vécu avec ses
épouses.

Le père d’aucun de vos hommes
103

Le Prophète fut aussi un père . Nous connaissons assez peu cet aspect de sa
vie familiale car la tradition n’a presque rien transmis de sa vie avec sa première épouse, mère de tous ses enfants, à l’exception d’Ibrāhīm, fils de Marie
la Copte, comme on l’a vu. Seules les quatre filles survécurent. Hormis l’épisode du collier de Khadīja, mentionné plus haut, rien n’est rapporté sur Zaynab qui meurt l’an 8 de l’Hégire. Ruqayya, mariée à ‘Uthmān, émigre avec
lui en Abyssinie. La maladie l’emporte au moment de la bataille de Badr. Sur
l’ordre du Prophète, son mari reste pour la veiller. Ils avaient eu un fils, ‘Abd
Allāh, mort à l’âge de deux ans. Sa cadette Umm Kulthum épouse à son tour
‘Uthmān l’an 3, mais décède l’an 9 de l’Hégire.
104
Seule la plus jeune, Fātima , survit à son père mais le rejoint six mois
plus tard. Nous en savons un peu plus sur elle que sur ses sœurs, car le Prophète la marie à ‘Alī, fils d’Abū Tālib, son jeune cousin, compagnon de la
première heure, qu’il considérait comme son frère. Il célèbre leur mariage
peu de temps après son arrivée à Médine. Juste avant la consommation du
mariage au retour de Badr, il vient les visiter, se fait apporter un bol d’eau, y
jette de sa salive et en asperge les épaules, la poitrine et les bras de ‘Alī puis
de Fātima en déclarant qu’il l’a mariée « au meilleur de ma famille » (khayr
ahlī). Grâce au don d’un emplacement par un membre de la famille des Banū
Najjār, le Prophète installe le jeune couple à proximité de ses appartements.
Son trousseau n’est guère plus riche que celui des épouses du Prophète : un
lit, un coussin de cuir bourré de fibre de palmier, un récipient en cuir et une
outre. Fātima est si proche de son père qu’il se montre aussi exigeant vis-àvis d’elle et de ‘Alī que vis-à-vis de lui-même et de ses épouses. ‘Alī raconte
qu’il dit un jour à Fātima : « J’ai la poitrine qui me fait mal à force de puiser
l’eau. Ton père a ramené des prisonniers de guerre. Vas voir ton père et demande-lui un serviteur ». Fātima lui avoue qu’elle aussi a des ampoules aux
mains à force de moudre du grain. Elle se rend auprès du Prophète qui lui
demande ce qui l’amène. Elle lui répond qu’elle est venue le saluer, sans oser
103 Sur les fils et les filles du Prophète, voir Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, III 7 ; Maqrīzī, Imtā‘ al-asmā‘, V 333-355.
104 Sur elle, voir le long article de Laura Veccia Vaglieri : « Fātima », Enc. Islam 2, II, pp.
861-870 et celui de Jean Calmard et Mohammad Ali Amir-Moezzi : « Fātima, daughter of Mohammad », Enc. Iranica, IX, pp. 400-404.

61

DENIS GRIL

rien lui demander. De retour, elle avoue qu’elle a eu honte de demander
quoi que ce soit. ‘Alī et elle vont alors trouver le Prophète ensemble, se
plaignent à lui de ce qu’ils endurent et lui demandent un serviteur. Le Prophète leur répond qu’il ne peut le leur donner car il va vendre les esclaves
pour pouvoir nourrir avec leur prix les « Gens de la Banquette » (Ahl al-suffa) « dont le ventre se tord de faim ». Le Prophète vient les trouver peu
après et les trouve sous une couverture qui les recouvre à peine. Il leur demande de rester comme ils sont et leur propose de leur enseigner une chose
meilleure que ce qu’ils ont demandé : prononcer dix fois après chaque prière
les formules « gloire à Dieu », « louange à Dieu », « Dieu est plus grand » et
les mêmes paroles trente-trois fois en se couchant (trente-quatre fois pour la
dernière). ‘Alī ajoute : « Je n’ai jamais délaissé cette récitation depuis que
105
l’Envoyé de Dieu me l’a enseignée » .
Cette anecdote illustre l’intimité du Prophète avec sa fille et son gendre
tout comme son exigence à leur égard, en leur inculquant le même détachement à l’égard de ce monde qu’il s’impose à lui-même et dont il a laissé le
choix à ses épouses. L’invocation qu’il leur enseigne, dans sa simplicité,
n’est autre qu’une forme de pure adoration et donc de réalisation de la servitude, voie de la perfection prophétique. Fātima doit donc endurer la faim
comme le reste de la famille. Le Prophète voit un jour à la pâleur de son vi sage qu’elle souffre terriblement de la faim. Il la fait approcher, pose sa main
écartée sur sa gorge et prie ainsi Dieu : « Ô toi qui rassasies les affamés et
élèves les humbles, élève Fātima fille de Muhammad ! ». La pâleur quitte
alors le visage de Fātima et le sang revient. ‘Imrān b. Husayn qui est témoin
de cette scène, en parle plus tard à Fātima qui lui assure qu’elle n’a plus ja 106
mais connu la faim après cela . Cette tradition qui relève du genre des
« preuves de la prophétie » atteste également de la sollicitude du père envers sa fille.
Le Prophète témoigne à sa fille et à son gendre une égale affection et intervient si nécessaire pour les réconcilier en cas de dispute. C’est ce qu’il fait
une fois ; il entre chez eux, s’allonge et demande à Fātima de s’étendre à ses
côtés. Il lui prend la main et la pose sur son nombril à lui. Il fait de même
avec ‘Alī de l’autre côté, lui prend la main et la tient avec celle de Fātima pareillement, jusqu’à ce qu’ils soient complètement réconciliés. Quand il ressort, quelqu’un lui fait remarquer qu’il a un visage radieux bien différent de
celui avec lequel il est entré. « Comment n’en serait-il pas ainsi, répond-il,
105 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII 25.
106 Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, VI 108 ; al-Haythamī, Majma‘ al-zawā’id, IX 203.

62

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

alors que je viens de réconcilier les deux êtres qui me sont les plus
107
chers ? » . L’amour que le Prophète porte à sa fille et à son gendre, ainsi
qu’à leur postérité reflète autant son humanité que l’élection dont ils sont
108
l’objet quand il les associe avec lui aux « Gens de ma Maison » (ahl baytī) ,
cette maison prophétique dont sont issus les imams et tant de saints personnages. Parmi les nombreuses versions du hadith où le Prophète annonce à
Fātima sa propre mort puis la sienne, Ibn Sa‘d choisit sans doute à dessein
celle-ci où ‘Ā’isha est témoin de la scène : « J’étais assise auprès de l’Envoyé
de Dieu, lorsque vint Fātima. Sa démarche était en tout point celle de l’En109
voyé de Dieu . – Bienvenue, ma fille, lui dit-il. Il la fit asseoir à sa droite ou
à sa gauche et lui confia un secret qui la fit pleurer puis il lui confia un autre
secret qui la fit rire. Je lui demandai par la suite : je n’ai jamais vu un rire
suivre d’aussi près des pleurs. L’Envoyé de Dieu t’a parlé en secret et tu as
pleuré ; que t’a-t-il confié ? – je ne saurais divulguer son secret, répond Fātima. Après le décès de l’Envoyé de Dieu, je lui reposai la question et elle me
confia que le Prophète lui avait dit : « Gabriel venait chaque année revoir le
Coran avec moi. Cette année il est venu deux fois et je pense que ma fin est
proche. Quel excellent prédécesseur suis-je pour toi ! » Il ajouta : « tu es de
ma famille celle qui me rejoindra le plus vite ». À ces mots, je pleurai. Puis il
me dit : « n’es-tu pas satisfaite d’être la maîtresse des femmes de cette communauté ou même des femmes de toute l’humanité (sayyida nisā’ hādhihi l110
umma aw nisā’ al-‘ālamīn) ? » Et je ris » . Par delà l’affection réciproque
du père et de la fille, une telle tradition souligne le rôle fondateur de la famille, qu’il s’agisse des épouses du temps du Prophète ou qu’il s’agisse de
cette famille et de sa place au sein de la communauté. Le Prophète ne dé clare-t-il pas en chaire, donc à toute sa communauté : « Fātima est une partie de moi-même, celui qui provoque son courroux, provoque le mien »,
111
quand on propose à ‘Alī une seconde épouse .
Le message transmis à Fātima est d’autant plus important que le Prophète perd son fils Ibrāhīm, fils de sa concubine Marie la Copte, né sans
107 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII 26.
108 Cf. par exemple Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, tafsīr sourate 3 et manāqib 30 : « L’Envoyé de Dieu
appela ‘Alī, Fātima, Hasan et Husayn et dit : ô mon Dieu, ils sont ma famille (allahumma ahlī) ! »
109 Cf. Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib 60 : Dans une tradition semblable, ‘Ā’isha dit : « je n’ai
vu personne ressembler autant à l’Envoyé de Dieu en allure et en comportement que
Fātima ».
110 Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, VIII, pp. 26-27.
111 Bukhārī, Sahīh, fadā’il ashāb al-nabī 29, nikāh 19, 110.

63

DENIS GRIL

doute vers la fin de l’an 8 et mort au début de l’an 10, donc peu de temps
avant la mort du Prophète. Il l’avait placé en nourrice et venait le voir de
temps en temps et l’embrassait. Anas disait à ce propos : « Je n’ai vu personne plus miséricordieux envers les enfants (arham bi-l-‘iyāl) que l’Envoyé
112
de Dieu » . Quand il assiste à son agonie, il ne peut s’empêcher de pleurer.
Un compagnon présent s’en étonne et le Prophète lui répond : « Ô (‘Abd alRahmān) Ibn ‘Awf, c’est une miséricorde. Il ajouta : l’œil pleure, le cœur est
triste mais nous ne disons que ce qui agrée à notre Seigneur. De ton départ,
113
Ibrāhīm, nous sommes attristés » . Une éclipse eut lieu au même moment.
« Les gens dirent : le soleil s’est éclipsé à cause de la mort d’Ibrāhīm. L’Envoyé de Dieu dut préciser : le soleil et la lune ne s’éclipsent ni pour sa mort
ni pour la mort de personne. Lorsque vous voyez (ce signe), priez et invo114
quez Dieu » . La rumeur que le Prophète doit démentir atteste encore une
fois que ce qui atteint le Prophète, ici dans sa paternité, touche toute la communauté. Le fait qu’il ait appelé cet enfant du nom d’Abraham signifie-t-il
115
que le Prophète espérait une postérité comparable à celle du patriarche ?
Toujours est-il que la mort de cet enfant montre un homme partagé entre la
tristesse d’un père et la soumission à un ordre divin le privant de postérité
masculine pour affirmer avec d’autant plus de force sa qualité d’Envoyé de
Dieu et de Sceau des prophètes (cf. Coran 33, 40).

La joie d’être grand-père
Les petits-enfants du Prophète, Hasan et Husayn en particulier, lui furent
aussi chers que leurs parents et de nombreux hadiths montrent le Prophète
leur témoignant une affection et un amour dépassant la simple tendresse
d’un grand-père pour ses petit-fils. Portant Hasan sur son épaule, il s’adresse ainsi à Dieu : « Ô mon Dieu, je l’aime ; aime-le aussi (allahumma innī
uhibbuhu fa-ahibbahu) » et dit de lui et de Husayn « ils sont mes deux
112 Ibn Kathīr, al-Bidāya, V 309.
113 Bukhārī, Sahīh, janā’iz 43 n° 1303. Sur la naissance d’Ibrāhīm, voir Maqrīzī, Imtā‘ alasmā‘, 2e éd. II 223 ; V 336-39. Le Prophète fait une réponse semblable à Sa‘d b.
‘Ubāda qui le voit pleurer à la mort du fils d’une des filles du Prophète dont le nom
n’est pas précisé ; cf. Bukhārī, Sahīh, janā’iz 32 n° 1284.
114 Bukhārī, Sahīh, kusūf 1 n° 1043, 15 n° 1060.
115 C’est ce que suggèrent les hadiths cités par Ibn Kathīr, Bidāya, V 309-11, dont cette
parole d’Anas, rapportée par Ibn Hanbal : « Si Ibrāhīm avait vécu, il aurait été un
véridique (siddīq) et un prophète » ou plus explicitement entre cette parole du
Prophète rapportée par Ibn ‘Asākir par un isnād comportant plusieurs des Ahl albayt jusqu’à ‘Alī : « …Le Prophète mit la main dans sa tombe et dit : ‘Par Dieu, c’est
un prophète, fils de prophète’. Il pleura et les musulmans autour de lui pleurèrent… ».

64

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE
116

plantes parfumées (rayhānatāya) dans ce monde » . Ils restaient souvent
en compagnie de leur grand-père. Alors qu’il est en prosternation durant la
prière, ils en profitent pour lui monter sur le dos. On veut les écarter, mais le
Prophète déclare : « Laissez-les, par mon père et ma mère, celui qui m’aime,
117
qu’il aime ces deux enfants » . Il est en train de prononcer un prêche,
quand Hasan et Husayn arrivent, vêtus tous deux d’une tunique de couleur
rouge sans doute trop longue, ils trébuchent et se relèvent. Le Prophète descend de chaire, les prend, les place devant lui et reconnaît : « Dieu et son
Envoyé ont dit vrai : ‘Vos biens et vos enfants sont une séduction’ (Coran
64, 15). J’ai vu ces deux enfants et n’ai pas pu m’empêcher d’aller vers eux ».
118
Puis il reprend son prêche . Son indulgence à l’égard de ses deux petits-fils
semble inépuisable. On appelle à la prière et le Prophète arrive portant Hasan ou Husayn. Il se prosterne, place l’enfant à terre à côté de lui et reste
très longtemps prosterné. Le Compagnon qui rapporte le hadith raconte
qu’intrigué il relève la tête pour voir et aperçoit le garçon sur le dos du Pro phète. Après la salutation, on demande au Prophète pourquoi il est resté
prosterné si longtemps ; est-ce parce qu’il a reçu une révélation ? Il répond :
« non, mais mon fils m’a pris comme monture et je n’ai pas voulu le bouscu119
ler tant qu’il n’avait pas fini » . Plus d’un hadith montre le Prophète,
comme n’importe quel grand-père, jouer le rôle d’une monture. ‘Umar,
voyant Hasan et Husayn sur ses épaules, s’exclame : « Quel excellent cheval
avez-vous ! » et le Prophète de répliquer : « et quels excellents cavaliers
120
sont-ils ! » . La familiarité de l’attitude du Prophète qui va jusqu’à tirer la
121
langue à Hasan pour que celui se précipite dans ses bras vise à provoquer
un effet de contraste avec la vénération dont le Prophète est entouré par ses
compagnons. L’accent mis ainsi sur son humanité et son amour des enfants
n’est qu’un aspect de la miséricorde qui est l’objet même de sa mission (cf.
Coran 21, 108). Hasan et Husayn ne sont pas ses seuls petits-enfants mais,
116 Bukhārī, Sahīh, fadā’il ashāb al-nabī 22. Le rayhān, basilic ou myrte, est aussi cette
branche d’une plante du Paradis dont les Rapprochés (muqarrabūn) sentent le parfum au moment de quitter ce monde, cf. Coran 56, 89 et Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān,
XXVII 122.
117 Ibn Abī Shayba, Musnad, VII 511.
118 Ibid. 513 ; Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, fadā’il, commentaire Tuhfat al-ahwadhī, IV 340.
119 Ibid. 514.
120 Al-Kāndihlawī, Hayāt al-sahāba, III 363, citant Ibn al-Athīr, Majma‘ al-zawā’id, IX
182. Dans un autre hadith, le Prophète à quatre pattes se compare à un chameau et
ses petits-fils aux deux sacoches de part et d’autre du bât ; Hayāt al-sahāba 364 et
Majma‘ ibid.
121 Maqrizī, Imtā‘ al-asmā‘, II 255, d’après Ibn Abī Shayba.

65

DENIS GRIL

sauf erreur, aucune anecdote n’est rapportée au sujet de Zaynab et Umm
Kulthūm, les filles de ‘Alī et Fātima. Il est par contre parfois question
d’Umāma, fille de sa fille Zaynab. Le Prophète se trouve avec ses femmes
tandis qu’Umāma joue dans un coin avec de la terre. Les femmes sont en
train d’admirer un collier et le Prophète déclare : « Je vais le mettre au cou
de celle des gens de ma maison qui m’est la plus chère ». La terre s’obscurcit
entre le Prophète et moi, reconnaît ‘Ā’isha qui raconte l’histoire, de crainte
qu’il ne mette le collier sur le cou d’une autre que moi ». Le Prophète en
pare alors la petite Umāma. ‘Ā’isha nous dit combien elle et les autres
femmes se sentent soulagées du bon tour que leur a joué le Prophète.
Dans les gens de sa maison, le Prophète inclut d’autres enfants, comme
122
123
les enfants de son cousin Ja‘far et surtout Usāma , fils de son fils adoptif
Zayd lequel, même s’il n’avait plus ce statut, lui était toujours aussi cher ainsi que son fils Usāma qualifié de « bien-aimé (hibb) de l’Envoyé de Dieu ».
Une tradition montre combien Usāma faisait partie de la famille du Prophète. ‘Alī et al-‘Abbās l’envoient demander au Prophète de les autoriser à
entrer auprès de lui. Usāma va trouver le Prophète qui le questionne sur ce
qui les amène. Il l’ignore. « Moi, dit le Prophète, je le sais, fais-les entrer.
Nous sommes venus te demander qui de ta famille t’est le plus cher, demandent ‘Alī et al-‘Abbās. – Fātima fille de Muhammad, leur répond le Pro124
phète. – Nous (ne) sommes (pas) venus t’interroger sur ta famille proche ,
lui disent-ils. ‘Celui à qui Dieu a accordé son bienfait et à qui j’ai accordé
125
mon bienfait (Coran 33, 37) : Usāma fils de Zayd’ , leur répond-il. – Puis
qui ? – ‘Alī fils d’Abū Tālib. – Ô Envoyé de Dieu, remarque al-‘Abbās, tu as
fait de ton oncle le dernier d’entre eux. – ‘Alī t’a précédé dans l’hégire, lui
126
explique le Prophète » .
Ce hadith montre toute l’ambiguïté du mot « famille ». Plusieurs traditions montrent al-‘Abbās soucieux de défendre les prérogatives de la famille
122 Au retour d’un voyage, le Prophète reçoit les enfants de sa famille et fait monter
Hasan, Husayn et ‘Abd Allāh fils de Ja‘far sur sa monture, cf. Muslim VII 132.
123 Cf. Ibn Sa‘d, Tabaqāt, IV 61-63 ; Bukhārī, Sahīh, fadā’il ashāb al-nabī 18, 22, n° 3732,
3733, 3735, 3747.
124 Dans une version du hadith, la phrase est affirmative : « nous sommes venus … ».
Toute l’ambiguïté du texte réside dans le sens de ahluka « ta famille ». S’agit-il de la
famille proche, au sens familial du terme, pourrait-on dire ou de la Famille, au sens
de celle qui doit recueillir l’héritage prophétique, ce qui est en soi, également ambigu ? De quel héritage s’agit-il ?
125 Le verset concerne Zayd, mais le Prophète l’applique à son fils.
126 Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, manāqib Usāma b. Zayd, cité par Ibn al-Athīr, Jāmi‘ al-usūl, VIII
578-79 n° 6392.

66

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

dont il sait qu’elle doit exercer une fonction au sein de la communauté et
pousse ‘Alī en ce sens. La réponse que leur fait le Prophète est plus personnelle et repose ici sur l’amour, l’attachement et l’affinité spirituelle engendrés par des liens familiaux, incluant des êtres chers comme Usāma.

Conclusion
127

« Celui qui ne désire pas suivre la Sunna, n’est pas des miens » , déclare le
Prophète à trois compagnons dont l’un voulait prier toute la nuit, l’autre
jeûner perpétuellement et le troisième rester célibataire pour se consacrer
totalement au service de Dieu. Le célibat est relativement exceptionnel en islam, et la vie familiale et conjugale fait intégralement partie du modèle légué
par le Prophète à sa communauté. Mais dans quelle mesure participe-t-elle
au parcours de celui qui suit la voie de perfectionnement intérieur dont
l’aboutissement conduit à être reconnu comme saint ? Quel rôle l’ascendance lointaine ou proche, les parents puis l’épouse ou les épouses et enfin
les enfants, les petits-enfants et leur postérité jouent-ils dans la vie du
saint ? L’exemple du Prophète, tel qu’il ressort de nos sources reste exceptionnel parce qu’il s’agit d’un prophète, d’un être choisi pour être le réceptacle et le transmetteur de la Parole divine, dont l’autorité est légiférante et
la mission universelle. Il bénéficie sur certains points de la Loi d’un statut
d’exception, notamment les neuf femmes qu’il est autorisé à épouser simul128
tanément . Mais exceptionnel ne signifie pas inimitable puisque le Coran
comme le Prophète lui-même appellent les croyants à le suivre, sinon dans
tous les aspects de sa fonction, du moins dans tout ce par quoi l’homme se
rapproche de Dieu, qu’il s’agisse de l’observation de la Loi, de l’adoration,
des vertus sociales, morales et intérieures ou de la recherche de la science,
fruit de la mise en pratique des commandements divins et prophétiques et
129
avant tout de la grâce .
La différence entre le prophète et le saint, sans entrer ici dans les débats
théologiques auxquels cette question a donné lieu, se situe sur deux plans :
le savoir et l’autorité. Toutefois ces deux plans entretiennent entre la
prophétie et la sainteté un rapport d’analogie. À la Révélation destinée à un
peuple ou à toute l’humanité correspond la science inspirée du saint que
127 Bukhārī, Sahīh, nikāh 1 n° 5063.
128 Comme on l’a remarqué, ce nombre totalise les deux ou trois ou quatre femmes que
le croyant est autorisé à épouser (cf. Coran 4, 3).
129 À propos des miracles en particulier : ils ne se manifestent pour ainsi dire pas dans
la vie familiale du Prophète car celle-ci révèle avant tout, pour le croyant, son humanité et ses vertus.

67

DENIS GRIL

n’acceptent que ceux qui le considèrent comme un homme de Dieu. Il en va
de même de l’autorité qui s’étend dans le cas du Prophète à toute sa communauté et dans celui du saint et du maître, à tous ceux qui le reconnaissent
pour tel. Mais aussi bien le prophète que le saint sont des êtres marqués,
chacun à leur niveau, par l’élection divine et la providence. L’ascendance abrahamique et ismaélienne du Prophète, le récit de son enfance d’orphelin
puis de son premier mariage en constituent une première preuve. La Révélation, comme le montrent les passages du Coran relatifs à ses épouses, sans
gommer son humanité ni la leur, lui confère au milieu des siens une autorité
qui s’impose d’elle-même.
Il est intéressant de constater que les hadiths, parole d’homme transmise
par des hommes et des femmes, soulignent avant tout ses vertus : son attention affectueuse pour ses épouses, sa mansuétude et sa longanimité quand
celles-ci ne craignent pas de le contrer ou encore sa tendresse et sa miséricorde envers les enfants. La miséricorde, dans la plupart des circonstances,
en particulier celles de la vie familiale, est la vertu cardinale du Prophète et
des hommes de Dieu. Elle est dans le Coran indissociable de la science révélée ou inspirée, car ce sont les deux attributs divins qui embrassent toute
chose (cf. Coran 40, 7) et ce sont les deux dons de Dieu à celui qui fut le
temps d’un voyage le maître de Moïse : « un serviteur à qui nous avons donné de Notre part une miséricorde et à qui nous avons enseigné d’auprès de
130
Nous une science » (Coran 18, 65) . Il est remarquable à cette égard que ce
soit ‘Ā’isha, l’épouse chérie, qui perçut mieux que quiconque la relation
entre la Révélation et les vertus humaines et spirituelles quand elle répondit
à celui qui l’interrogeait sur le caractère du Prophète : « Son caractère était
le Coran ».
Or le caractère est généralement perçu comme une réalité éminemment
humaine. Tous les textes qui parlent de la vie du Prophète au sein de sa famille, avec ses femmes, ses enfants et petits-enfants mettent en valeur l’humanité, la simplicité, voire l’humilité de sa personne, sa réalité d’être humain presque ordinaire. Cette insistance est à mettre en relation avec un enseignement fondamental du Coran, de la Sunna puis du soufisme : on s’élève
vers Dieu en s’abaissant, c’est-à-dire en renonçant à toute forme de prétention. Pour un homme comme pour une femme, la famille, l’époux ou l’é130 Le Coran fait de l’amour (mawadda) et de la miséricorde le fondement du mariage :
« Parmi ses signes, il a créé pour vous à partir de vous même des épouses pour que
vous trouviez en elle un repos. Il y a en cela des signes pour ceux qui réfléchissent »
(30, 21).

68

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

pouse et les enfants sont sous ce rapport un puissant moteur d’élévation
spirituelle. Les seules circonstances où le Prophète présente une face
rigoureuse à l’égard de ses épouses ou de sa fille Fātima sont celles qui
mettent en cause un principe fondamental de la vie spirituelle : le renoncement au monde. Que ce dépouillement soit matériel ou intérieur, il constitue
un engagement que les sollicitations de la vie familiale ne doivent pas entamer. C’est pourquoi plusieurs traditions montrent les épouses du Prophète
pleurer après sa disparition quand on leur apporte des plats qu’elles
n’avaient jamais connus de son temps.
Le commentaire par Ibn ‘Arabī des versets de la sourate al-Tahrīm sur
les deux épouses du Prophète, Hafsa et ‘Ā’isha, chez lesquels il perçoit une
grande force intérieure liée à un haut degré de connaissance, permet d’entrevoir le rôle des épouses de certains maîtres dans leur accès à la sainteté
ou encore la personnalité de certaines saintes de l’islam. On a vu aussi comment le trouble survenant dans la sphère intérieure avait des effets immédiats sur l’ensemble de la communauté. Ce rapport immédiat entre la vie
privée du Prophète et sa vie publique, matérialisé par les appartements de
ses femmes jouxtant la mosquée se retrouve sans doute, à un degré ou à un
autre dans la vie de certains saints. Quand un être est investi de la présence
divine et qu’il a charge de disciples qui retiennent ses moindres paroles et
observent ses moindres gestes, la frontière entre l’intérieur et l’extérieur, le
privé et le public, tend à s’estomper.
La prophétie dans le cas du Prophète est associée à la fonction de khalīfa, au sens coranique de la lieutenance divine sur la terre, et à celle de
maître spirituel à l’égard des compagnons qui le suivent dans la voie vers
Dieu. Se pose donc le problème de la succession dans ces deux fonctions.
Dans l’une comme dans l’autre, la famille dans sa double dimension charnelle et spirituelle, a eu sa place. Les oppositions qui se sont fait jour après la
mort du Prophète immédiatement ou plus tard, ont leur correspondance
dans le domaine de la maîtrise spirituelle et dans la gestion d’un patrimoine
de sainteté. La question de l’héritage divise souvent les familles. Pourtant le
Prophète n’a laissé que la science en héritage. Les Ahl al-bayt, comme on l’a
vu, englobent les épouses du Prophète et les descendants de ‘Alī et Fātima.
Les premières ont participé aux côtés du Prophète à la constitution d’un hé ritage de spiritualité et de science et certaines, ‘Ā’isha en particulier, en ont
assuré la transmission. ‘Alī et ses descendants et d’autres parmi la famille au
sens plus large, les Banū Hāshim, ont joué le rôle que l’on sait dans l’histoire
et dans la perpétuation d’une semence et d’une présence prophétique au
69

DENIS GRIL

sein de la communauté musulmane. De nombreux saints sont issus de cette
famille, mais pour de nombreux maîtres du soufisme, les Gens de la Maison
sont aussi dans un sens plus large la famille spirituelle du Prophète et, dans
131
un sens plus étroit, l’élite des saints .

Bibliographie
Sources primaires
Abd el Kader = ‘Abd al-Qādir al-Jazā’irī (m. 1300/1882), al-Mawāqif, Damas, Dār
al-Yaqaza al-‘arabiyya, 1966, 3 vol. ; éd. ‘Abd al-Bāqī Miftāh, Alger,
Mu’assasat al-Amīr ‘Abd al-Qādir, 2005, 2 vol.
‘Abd al-Karīm al-Jīlī, al-Insān al-kāmil fī ma‘rifat al-awākhir wa l-awā’il, Le
Caire, Mustafā al-Bābī al-Halabī, 1956, 2 t. en 1 vol.
Abū Dāwud, Sunan, éd. Muhyī l-Dīn ‘Abd al-Hamīd, reprod., Beyrouth, Dār alfikr, s.d., 4 t. en 2 vol.
Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa wa ma‘rifat ahwāl sāhib al-sharī‘a, éd. ‘Abd alMu‘tī Qal‘ajī, Beyrouth, Dār al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1985, 7 vol.
Bukhārī, Sahīh, éd. Istanbul 1311 H, reprod. Muhammad ‘Alī Subayh, Le Caire
s.d., 9 t. en 4 vol.
Burhānfūrī, ‘Alī al-Muttaqī, Kanz al-‘ummāl fī sunan al-aqwāl wa l-af‘āl, éd.
Bakrī Hayyānī et Safwa al-Saqqā, Alep, Maktabat al-turāth al-islāmī, 1977,
16 vol.
Dāraqutnī, Sunan, Beyrouth, ‘Ālam al-kutub, s.d.
Haytamī, Ahmad Ibn Hajar, al-Sawā‘iq al-muhriqa fī l-radd ‘alā ahl al-bida‘ wa
l-zandaqa, Le Caire, al-Matba‘a al-Maymaniyya, 1307 H.
Haythamī, Nūr al-Dīn ‘Alī b. Abī Bakr, Majma‘ al-zawā’id wa manba‘ al-fawā’id,
reprod. Beyrouth, Dār al-kitāb al-‘arabī, 1961, 10 vol.
Ibn Abī Shayba, Musannaf, éd. Sa‘īd al-Lahhām, Beyrouth, Dār al-fikr, 1989,
9 vol.
Ibn ‘Arabī, al-Futūhāt al-makkiyya, éd. Dār al-kutub a-‘arabiyya, Le Caire 1329
H., reprod. Beyrouth, Dār Sādir, s.d., 4 vol.
Id., Fusūs al-hikam, éd. Abū l-‘Alā’ ‘Afīfī, Le Caire, ‘Īsā al-Bābī al-Halabī, 1946.
Id., al-Isfār ‘an natā’ij al-asfār, « Le dévoilement des effets du voyage », éd. et
trad. D. Gril, Combas, Éditions de l’Éclat, 1994.
Id., Dīwān Ibn ‘Arabī, Le Caire, Būlāq, 1271/1855.
131 Pour al-Hakīm al-Tirmidhī (m. vers 910), les Ahl al-bayt mentionnés dans le hadith
cité plus haut « Les Gens de ma Maison sont une protection pour ma communauté »
désignent avant tout les quarante abdāl par lesquels Dieu maintient la terre, fait descendre la pluie et subvient aux besoins des hommes ; cf. Nawādir al-usūl, éd. Istanbul, 1294 H. reprod. Beyrouth Dār Sādir s.d. asl 222, pp. 263-266 ; cité par Claude Addas, « The notion of Ahl al-bayt according to Ibn ‘Arabī », pp. 355-356.

70

LE PROPHÈTE EN FAMILLE

Ibn ‘Asākir, ‘Abd al-Rahmān b. Muhammad b. al-Hasan, Kitāb al-arba‘īn fī
manāqib ummahāt al-mu’minīn, éd. Mutī‘ al-Hāfiz et Ghazwa Budayrī,
Damas, Dār al-fikr, 1986.
Ibn ‘Āshūr, Muhammad al-Tāhir, al-Tahrīr wa l-tanwīr, 30 t. en 12 vol.
Ibn al-Athīr, al-Mubārak b. Muhammad, Jāmi‘ al-usūl fī ahādīth al-Rasūl, éd.
‘Abd al-Qādir al-Arnā’ūt, Damas, 1969-71, 11 vol.
Id., al-Nihāya fī gharīb al-hadīth wa l-athar, éd. Mahmūd Muhammad al-Tanāhī
et Tāhir Ahmad al-Zāwī, Le Caire, 1963-5, reprod. Beyrouth, Dār Ihyā’ alturāth al-‘arabī, s.d., 5 vol.
Ibn Hanbal, Musnad, Le Caire, 1313 H., reprod. Beyrouth, Dār al-fikr, s.d., 6 vol.
Ibn Hishām, al-Sīra al-nabawiyya, éd. Mustafā al-Saqqā’, Ibrāhīm al-Abyārī, Abd
al-Hafīz Shalabī, Le Caire, Mustafā al-Bābī al-Halabī, 1955, 4 t. en 2 vol.
Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Wafā bi-ahwāl al-Mustafā, éd. Muhammad Zuhrī al-Najjār,
Riyād, al-Mu’assasa al-sa‘īdiyya, 1976, 2 vol.
Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr, Beyrouth, 1969, s.d., 4 t.
Id., al-Bidāya wa l-nihāya, reprod. Beyrouth, Dār al-fikr, 1978, 14 t. et index en 8
vol.
Ibn Sa‘d, al-Tabaqāt al-kubrā, Beyrouth, Dār Sādir, s.d., 9 t.
Ismā‘īl Haqqī Bursawī, Rūh al-bayān, Istanbul 1330 H., reprod. Beyrouth, s.d., 10
vol.
‘Iyād, al-Qādī, al-Shifā’ bi-ta‘rīf huqūq al-Mustafā, Beyrouth, Dār al-kutub
al-‘ilmiyya, s.d., 2 t. en 1 vol.
Al-Kāndihlawī, Muhammad Yūsuf, Hayāt al-sahāba, éd. Nāyif al-‘Abbās, Damas,
Dār al-Qalam, 1969, 4 vol.
Maqrīzī, Imtā‘ al-asmā‘ bi-mā li-l-nabī min al-ahwāl wa l-amwāl wa l-matā‘, éd.
Muhammad ‘Abd al-Hamīd al-Numaysī, Beyrouth, Dār al-kutub
al-‘ilmiyya, 1999, 12 vol. ; éd. Mahmūd Shākir, Le Caire, Lajnat al-ta’līf wa
tarjama, 1941, 1er tome.
Māturidī, Ta’wīlāt al-qur’ān, éd. Ali Haydar Ulusoy, Istanbul, 2003-2011, 19 vol.
Muslim, Sahīh, éd. Istanbul, 1329 H., 8 t. en 4 vol.
Nasā’ī, Sunan, Le Caire, al-Maktaba al-tijāriyya al-kubrā, 1930, reprod.
Beyrouth, Dār al-fikr, 8 t. en 4 vol.
Al-Qastallānī, Ahmad b. Muhammad, al-Mawāhib al-laduniyya bi-l-minah almuhammadiyya, Tanta, 1326/1907, 2 vol.
Qurtubī, al-Jāmi‘ li-ahkām al-qur’ān, Le Caire, 1952-1968, 20 vol.
Shamā’il al-nabī, Le Caire, Thesaurus Islamicus Foundation, 2004.
Al-Shinqītī, Muhammad al-Amīn, Adwā’ al-bayān fī īdāh al-qur’ān bi-l-qur’ān,
Rabat, 2000, 10 vol.
Suyūtī, al-Khasā’is al-kubrā, éd. Muhammad Khalīl Harrās, Le Caire, Dār alkutub al-hadītha, 1967, 3 t.

71

DENIS GRIL

Tabarī, Jāmi‘ al-bayān fī tafsīr al-qur’ān, Le Caire, Būlāq, 1323 H., reprod.
Beyrouth, Dār al-ma‘rifa, 1972, 30 t. en 12 vol.
Tabarī, Muhibb al-Dīn, al-Simt al-thamīn fī manaqib ummahāt al-mu’minīn, Le
Caire, Maktabat al-kulliyyāt al-azhariyya, 1982.
Tabātabā’ī, Muhammad Husayn, al-Mīzān fī tafsīr al-qur’ān, Beyrouth,
Mu’assasat al-A‘lamī, 2006, 20 vol.
Tabrisī (Tabarsī), al-Fadl b. al-Hasan, Majma‘ al-bayān fī tafsīr al-qur’ān,
Beyrouth, Maktabat al-hayāt, 1961, 6 vol.
Tirmidhī, Jāmi‘, avec com. de ‘Abd al-Rahmān Mubārakfūrī, Tuhfat al-ahwadhī,
Mubārakpūr, 1359 H. reprod., Beyrouth, Dār al-kitāb al-‘arabī, Beyrouth,
s.d., 5 vol.
Tirmidhī, Hakīm, Nawādir al-usūl, éd. Istanbul 1294 H., reprod. Beyrouth, Dār
Sādir, s.d.

Études
Addas, Claude, « The notion of Ahl al-bayt according to Ibn ‘Arabi » in East and
West : Common spiritual values, scientific-cultural links. International Ibn
al-Arabī Symposium, Baku 9-11 October, Istanbul, Insan Publications, 2010,
pp. 353-368.
Amir-Moezzi, Mohammad Ali, éd., Dictionnaire du Coran, Paris, R. Laffont, 2007.
Chodkiewicz, Michel, « Les trois cailloux du Shaykh ‘Abd al-Karīm al-Jīlī » in
Geneviève Gobillot, éd., Mystique musulmane. Parcours en compagnie d’un
chercheur : Roger Deladrière, Paris, Cariscript, 2002, pp. 141-154.
Morsy, Magali, Les femmes du Prophète, Paris, Mercure de France, 1989.
Powers, David S., Muhammad is Not the Father of Any of Your Men. The Making
of the Last Prophet, Philadelphie, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009.
Sharon, Moshe, « Ahl al-bayt, People of the House », Jerusalem Studies in
Arabic and Islam 8, 1986, pp. 169-184.
Schoeler, Gregor, Écrire et transmettre dans les débuts de l’islam, Paris, Puf, 2002.

72

Les enfants qu’ils étaient :
récits d’enfance merveilleuse dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’
d’Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī et leur valeur comme source historique*

Avner Giladi

L’ouvrage et son auteur
Muhammad Ibn Zafar, surnommé al-Siqillī (le Sicilien), érudit renommé du
XIIe siècle, est aujourd’hui marginalisé dans les recherches sur la littérature
arabe et la pensée islamique de l’ère classique. Les titres honorifiques qu’il
reçut dans les traités biographiques arabes – hujjat al-islām (« L’argument
de l’Islam »), shams al-dīn (« Le soleil de la religion »), jamāl al-dīn (« La
beauté de la religion »), et burhān al-dīn (« La preuve de la religion ») – témoignent pourtant de l’estime dont son œuvre féconde jouissait au Moyen
Âge. Dans la liste de ses ouvrages, figurent plus de trente livres sur des su jets divers : commentaire du Coran, loi, poésie, langue et adab. Seuls quatre
de ces ouvrages nous sont parvenus.
Ibn Zafar connut, selon ses biographes, une vie difficile. Né en Sicile
1
sous la domination normande – d’autres affirment : à La Mecque – en 1104
de l’ère chrétienne, il erra dès son plus jeune âge au Proche-Orient et en
Afrique du Nord, peut-être même en Andalousie. Il étudia à La Mecque, séjourna au Caire et à al-Mahdiyya, enseigna dans une école d’Alep avant de
mourir démuni de tout à Hamāt en 566-7/1170 ou en 568-9/1172. L’opus
magnum de cet auteur est le Fürstenspiegel (« Miroir des princes », voir cidessous), intitulé Sulwān al-mutā‘ fī ‘udwān al-atbā‘ (« La consolation du
gouvernant devant l’hostilité de ses sujets »), ou, sous un autre titre : Kitāb
al-sulwānāt fī musāmarāt al-khulafā’ wa l-sāda (« Le Livre des consolations
lors des conversations nocturnes des califes et des nobles »). Cet ouvrage visait à octroyer, par de courtes sentences, des conseils aux détenteurs du pou-

1
*

1

Ceci est la version revue et élargie d’un article publié en hébreu dans Ami Ayalon
et David Wasserstein, éd., Madrasa : Education, Religion and State in the Middle East
in Honor of Michael Winter, Tel-Aviv, Université de Tel-Aviv, 2004. Je voudrais
sincèrement remercier ici mes amis, monsieur Tāriq Abū Rajab et le docteur Ibrāhim
Geries, qui ont lu les premières ébauches de l’article et émis d’importantes remarques, ainsi que le docteur Colette Salem qui a traduit l’article en français.
Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī, Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, édité par Mustafā al-Qabbānī, Le
Caire, 1322/1904 (pour plus de détails voir infra).

73

AVNER GILADI
2

voir, afin de leur enseigner la façon d’affronter l’agitation de leurs sujets . Le
Sulwān et trois autres traités, dont le Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ (« Livre
des connaissances traitant de fils doués de qualités exceptionnelles ») – recueil biographique et hagiographique sur la jeunesse d’hommes célèbres, qui
3
est l’objet de notre étude – furent dédiés au prince de Sicile, Abū ‘Abd Allāh
4
Muhammad b. Abī l-Qāsim . Le fait que Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ figure
parmi ces écrits, et plus encore, qu’il ait été composé dans l’intervalle sépa 5
rant les deux versions du Sulwān (1150–1159) , tend à prouver qu’il s’agissait
là d’une sorte de ‘produit dérivé’ du fameux « Miroir des princes » d’Ibn Zafar. Ce dernier reconnaît au moins à une occasion qu’il « recycle » dans
6
Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ des matériaux du Sulwān .
Un recueil, légèrement postérieur à Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ et qui lui ressemble sous certains aspects, intitulé Kitāb al-darārī fī dhikr al-dharārī (« Le
2

3

4

5
6

R. Hrair Dekmejian et Adel Fathy Thabit, « Machiavelli’s Arab precursor : Ibn Zafar
al-Siqillī », British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies, 27, 2000, surtout pp. 125-127. Cf.
Également Umberto Rizzitano, « Ibn Ẓafar », Enc. Islam 2, III, p. 970 ; C. Edmund
Bosworth, « Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī », Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature, I, p. 383 ; Aziz
Ahmad, La Sicile Islamique, Paris, Publisud, 1990, pp. 79-80.
Imprimé pour la première fois au Caire en 1904 par Mustafā al-Qabbānī. Cette édition est basée sur deux manuscrits, l’un conservé à la Bibliothèque publique de
Bayezid et l’autre dans Dār al-Kutub au Caire. Pour la description de deux manuscrits supplémentaires conservés à Dār al-Kutub et leur comparaison avec le manuscrit utilisé par al-Qabbānī, cf. Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī, Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, édité
par Ibrāhīm Yūnus, Le Caire, Dār al-Sahwa, s.d., pp. 5-9 (introduction de l’éditeur).
Une mise en regard du texte édité par al-Qabbānī et d’un autre manuscrit, conservé
à la British Library (Or. 3880), révèle de nombreuses différences dans la rédaction.
Par contre, un manuscrit conservé à la Bibliothèque nationale de France (Cf. Edgard
Blochet, Catalogue des manuscrits arabes des nouvelles acquisitions 1884–1924, Paris,
1925, p. 167, Ar. 6032), diffère de l’édition imprimée (utilisée ici) uniquement par
quelques détails structurels, comme, par exemple, une modification de l’ordre des
entrées dans deux cas et une suppression de trois autres entrées. La version de l’introduction de l’auteur, par exemple, est quasiment identique à celle de l’édition d’alQabbānī. Le fait qu’il s’agisse là d’une copie tardive, du XVIIIe siècle, prouve l’intérêt
incessant, au fil des siècles, pour cet écrit. On peut s’en rendre compte également par
la diffusion des manuscrits de Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’. Cf. Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Literatur, I, p. 352 ; Suppl. I, p. 595. Cf. également Rachel Arié,
Miniatures hispano-musulmanes : Recherches sur un manuscrit arabe illustré de l’Escorial, Leyde, Brill, 1969, p. 2. Dans d’autres manuscrits, le texte apparaît sous d’autres
noms, par exemple : al-Ghurar wa’l-durar fī nujabā’ al-awlād.
Louise Marlow, « Advice and advice literature », Enc. Islam 3, édition en ligne ; Ibn
Zafar, Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, édition Yūnus, pp. 13-14, introduction de
l’éditeur. D’autres témoignages de la dédicace de Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ à ce
prince figurent dans l’une des versions du manuscrit. Cf. édition Yūnus, p. 21.
Enc. Islam 3, ibid.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, édition Yūnus, p. 239.

74

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

livre lumineux sur les enfants ») de ‘Umar b. Ahmad Ibn al-‘Adīm (588/1192660/1262) rassemble propos et anecdotes sur les enfants et leur éducation. Il
est dédié au gouverneur d’Alep, al-Zāhir Ghāzī, protecteur de l’auteur, à
l’occasion de la naissance de son fils. Ce traité est rattaché par Anne-Marie
Eddé au genre des Fürstenspiegel, selon la définition de celui-ci : « manuel
d’éducation princière, adressé à tel ou tel prince et illustré de nombreuses
anecdotes ». C’est donc une branche du genre adab, cette énorme masse
7
d’écrits arabes visant à édifier les lecteurs tout en les distrayant . Malgré les
différences de matériaux et de rédaction entre les deux traités – celui d’Ibn
Zafar, classé selon les personnalités, et celui d’Ibn al-‘Adīm selon les thèmes
– l’objectif et le concept se ressemblent, de même que les sources utilisées.
Ibn Zafar présente Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ comme un écrit visant à fournir des exemples, tirés du passé, d’enfants devenus célèbres à l’âge adulte et
encourageant le jeune lecteur à en tirer une inspiration morale tout en tâ8
chant de le distraire . Par rapport à l’envergure modeste d’al-Darārī (trente
pages dans l’édition imprimée parue en 1298/1881 à Istanbul), Anbā’ nujabā’
al-abnā’ est un ouvrage beaucoup plus étoffé (deux cents pages dans l’édition d’al-Qabbānī, deux cents soixante pages dans l’édition de Yūnus).
En dépit de leur originalité littéraire, il faut mesurer l’importance de ces
deux traités déjà cités à l’aune des écrits arabo-islamiques médiévaux sur le
thème de l’enfant et de l’enfance. Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ et al-Darārī
viennent se joindre à la longue liste de traités entiers et de chapitres spéciaux composés sur le thème de l’enfance dans les domaines de la loi religieuse, de l’éthique, de la pédagogie, de la théologie, de la médecine et de
9
belles-lettres ; ils constituent une source supplémentaire d’étude des images
et des conceptions de l’enfance et de l’attitude envers les enfants dans les
anciennes sociétés musulmanes. Mais à la différence des traités théoriques,
les écrits d’adab en général et ceux d’Ibn Zafar et d’Ibn al-‘Adīm en particulier, peuvent, grâce à la richesse de leurs éléments anecdotiques, contribuer
7

8
9

Anne-Marie Eddé, « Un traité sur les enfants d’un auteur arabe du XII ème siècle », in
Henri Dubois et Michel Zink, éd., Les Âges de la vie au Moyen Âge : actes du colloque
du Département d’études médiévales de l’Université Paris-Sorbonne et de l’Université
Friedrich–Wilhelm de Bonn, Provins, 16-17 mars, 1990, Paris, Presses de l’Université
de Paris-Sorbonne, 1992, p. 140, faisant allusion à Heribert Busse, « Fürstenspiegel
und Fürstenethik im Islam », Bustan,Vienne, 1986, pp. 12-19.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 5.
Avner Giladi, « Ṣaghīr », Enc. Islam 2, VIII, pp. 849-856 ; Mohammed Hocine Benkheira, Avner Giladi, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen et Jacqueline Sublet, La Famille en
islam d’après les sources arabes, Paris, Les Indes Savantes, 2013, Chapitre V : « La notion d’enfance ».

75

AVNER GILADI

à la compréhension d’une approche enracinée dans la mentalité des diverses
couches sociales, et pas uniquement dans celle des érudits et des spécialistes
(cf. infra).
Selon le plan indiqué dans l’introduction de l’auteur, Anbā’ nujabā’ alabnā’ devrait inclure un chapitre sur l’enfance du Prophète Muhammad, et
quatre unités, comptant chacune dix biographies : 1) proches amis du Prophète (sahāba) ; 2) descendants des amis du Prophète ; 3) musulmans fameux
pour leur piété et leur ascétisme (sūfiyya) ; et enfin 4) dirigeants – arabes et
10
perses – de l’époque pré-islamique . Un sommaire détaillé révèle que le
plan original n’a pas été respecté : le choix des personnalités et l’ordre de
leur présentation ne correspondent pas au plan. En outre, le nombre de bio11
graphies d’enfance dépasse 41 . Apparaissent ainsi, par exemple, dans l’édition d’al-Qabbānī, quatre biographies de rois perses de l’époque pré-islamique, mais aucune biographie des gouverneurs arabes de la même époque,
comme cela avait été promis en introduction. La liste des personnalités musulmanes semble, elle aussi, tout à fait arbitraire. Elle inclut (sans respecter
l’ordre chronologique) deux des quatre califes héritiers directs du Prophète
(al-rāshidūn) – Abū Bakr et ‘Alī b. Abī Tālib ; ‘Abbās, oncle du Prophète,
père de la dynastie abbasside, et al-Hasan et al-Husayn, petits-fils du Prophète ; Mu‘āwiya, le premier calife omeyyade et les califes omeyyades Yazīd
et ‘Abd al-Malik ; une série de cinq califes abbassides, depuis Abū l-‘Abbās
et jusqu’à al-Rādī bi-llāh (avec entre autres Ibn al-Mu‘tazz, le calife qui ne
régna qu’une seule journée et qui aurait plutôt dû figurer parmi les poètes,
cf. infra) ; ‘Abd Allāh b. al-Zubayr qui se révolta contre les Omeyyades et
établit pour une courte période un pouvoir autonome à Hedjaz ; ‘Amr b.
al-‘Ās, chef militaire de l’époque du Prophète jusqu’au règne du premier calife omeyyade, célèbre surtout pour avoir conquis l’Égypte ; des commandants et des gouverneurs omeyyades comme Yazīd b. al-Muhallab et son fils
Makhlad ; des secrétaires et de vizirs abbassides, comme par exemple Ja‘far
et al-Fadl, de la famille des Barmak ; les transmetteurs de tradition ‘Abd
Allāh b. ‘Abbās et al-Miswar b. Mahrama ; le généalogiste Daghfal b. Hanzala et cinq poètes : Uhayha b. al-Hallāj, Mu‘āwiya b. ‘Abd Allāh, al-Hasan b.
Wahb, Labīd b. Rabī‘a et ‘Abd Allāh b. al-Mu‘tazz. Les mystiques forment un
ensemble remarquable par l’ampleur de sa représentation (11 entrées, un
quart des chapitres de l’ouvrage). L’histoire de leur vie, relativement riche
10 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 6.
11 Un seul chapitre est consacré au thème des bébés qui parlèrent dès le berceau.

76

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

en matériaux hagiographiques – y compris des épisodes d’enfance de caractère légendaire et miraculeux – était particulièrement bien adaptée aux visées d’Ibn Zafar. Un autre ensemble incluait, nous l’avons vu, quatre biogra12
phies de rois perses sassanides – Shāhpūr II (Sābūr dhū l-Aktāf) , Bahrām
13
14
15
Gōr , Shāhpūr b. Shāhpūr et Shāhpur b. Azdashīr .
La présence de matériaux bio-hagiographiques sur l’enfance de ces rois,
si riche en motifs de l’enfance annonciatrice d’un brillant avenir – avec par
exemple un prince, encore fœtus dans le ventre de sa mère, héritant du
royaume et couronné avant sa naissance et des astrologues prédisant la
gloire du prince à sa naissance – correspondait parfaitement aux desseins de
l’ouvrage. En outre, les récits sur les rois perses se trouvent en abondance
dans l’historiographie arabe ancienne (cf. infra en note des exemples tirés
des écrits d’al-Tabarī et al-Tha‘ālibī) ainsi que dans les écrits d’adab et les
Fürstenspiegel, genre ayant fleuri sous l’influence directe de la culture sassa16
nide ; Ibn Zafar lui-même utilise de tels matériaux dans son ouvrage
17
Sulwān al-mutā‘ .
Deux des récits des rois perses dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ se distinguent par un autre aspect : ce sont, semble-t-il, les seuls du recueil dont on
puisse identifier la source grâce à l’auteur lui-même. Dans le récit d’enfance
de Bahrām Gōr (gouverneur en 420-438 de l’ère chrétienne) Ibn Zafar
18
évoque Muhammad b. Jarīr al-Tabarī . Un examen de Ta’rīkh al-rusul wa lmulūk prouve qu’il s’agit bien là de la source, ainsi que celle d’un autre récit
parmi ceux qui décrivent l’enfance des rois perses, avec des changements de
19
détail . Même sans cette référence explicite, on peut identifier la source de
12 Ehsan Yarshater, éd., The Cambridge History of Iran, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1983, III (1), pp. 132 sqq.
13 Otakar Klima, « Bahrām V Gōr », Enc. Iranica, III, pp. 518-519.
14 The Cambridge History of Iran, III (1), p. 141.
15 Ibid., p. 121.
16 Cf. par exemple Ghazālī’s Book of Counsel for Kings (Nasīhat al-Mulūk), traduit par
Frank R.C. Bagley, Londres, Oxford University Press, 1964, introduction du traducteur, pp. IX-XVI.
17 Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī, al-Sulwānāt, sulwān al-mutā‘ fī ‘udwān al-atbā‘, édité par Ayman
‘Abd al-Jābir al-Buhayrī, Le Caire, al-Āfāq al-‘Arabiyya, 1999, pp. 53-72 ; 80-98 ; 99 ;
105-126 ; 142-150.
18 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 182.
19 Comparer le récit d’enfance de Sābūr dhū l-Aktāf (Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 176181) avec Muhammad b. Jarīr al-Tabarī, Ta’rīh al-rusul wa l-mulūk (édité par Michael
J. de Goeje, Leyde, Brill, 1964, I, p. 836), et le récit d’enfance de Bahrām Gōr (Anbā’
nujabā’ al-abnā, pp. 181-194) avec la version de Tabarī (ibid., pp. 854-858). Une autre
source possible des récits des rois perses dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā : l’ouvrage de

77

AVNER GILADI

quelques-uns des récits d’enfance soufies dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’. On
trouve par exemple l’histoire de l’enfance de l’ascète et mystique Ma‘rūf al20
Karkhī, rapportée dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ (voir ci-dessous) , qui appa21
raît dans al-Risāla de ‘Abd al-Karīm b. Hawāzin al-Qushayrī (mort en 1072) .
Le cas de Sahl al-Tustarī – importante personnalité soufie des temps anciens
(mort en 896), qui fut, dès son plus jeune âge, impressionné par les prières
nocturnes de son oncle, et participa lui aussi, graduellement, au culte du
dhikr ; à six ans, il savait le Coran par cœur ; à sept ans, il passait la moitié
de ses nuits en prière, et à treize il entama une « quête de savoir religieux »
22
(rihla fī talab al-‘ilm) – ce cas provient apparemment de la même source .
Quoi qu’il en soit, Ibn Zafar utilise de toute évidence des matériaux tirés
de sources variées, comme nous le verrons plus loin, même si ce n’est pas de
manière systématique ni entière : recueils de hadith, chroniques, généalogies
et recueils biographiques – depuis la biographie du Prophète Muhammad et
23
jusqu’à Ta’rīkh madīnat Dimashq d’Ibn ‘Asākir .

Hagiographie islamique et récits d’enfance
La vocation de l’homme destiné aux honneurs peut se percevoir dès l’enfance selon des signes comportementaux – c’est là la leçon principale des

20
21

22
23

‘Abd al-Malik b. Muhammad al-Tha‘ālibī (mort en 429/1038), Ta’rīkh ghurar al-siyar,
édité par Hermann Zotenberg, Téhéran, 1963, par exemple, pp. 515-516, 539-547.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 141-143.
Abū l-Qāsim ‘Abd al-Karīm b. Hawāzin al-Qushayrī, al-Risāla al-qushayriyya,
Beyrouth, Dār al-Kutub, 1418/1998, p. 26. Une version supplémentaire du récit apparaît dans Sifat al-safwa de Jamāl al-Dīn Abū l-Faraj Ibn al-Jawzī, jeune contemporain d’Ibn Zafar. Cf. l’édition de Mahmūd Fākhūrī, Alep, 1970, II, pp. 318-319.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 144-146. Comparez avec al-Risāla l-qushayriyya, p. 39.
La place de l’enfance dans les dictionnaires biographiques arabes anciens, y compris
les chapitres traitant de l’éducation religieuse élémentaire, reste secondaire. Le concept du lien entre enfance et âge adulte, s’il apparaît bien dans la pensée islamique
du Moyen Âge (cf. infra), ne s’y exprime pas systématiquement. Cf., par exemple,
Munir ud-Din Ahmad, Muslim Education and the Scholar’s Social Status up to the 5th
Century Muslim Era in the Light of Ta’rikh Baghdad, Zurich, Der Islam, 1968, p. 40.
L’attention accordée à l’enfance dépendait également de la mesure dans laquelle les
biographes s’intéressaient aux traits de caractère individuels des sujets de leur ouvrage, mais ces derniers étaient généralement perçus comme des archétypes de comportement et d’actions publiques dans l’esprit de l’islam, et non comme des individus distincts les uns des autres par le développement de leur personnalité et de
leur caractère. Cf. Elizabeth M. Sartain, Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti, I : « Biography and
Background », Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1975, p. 137 ; Hamilton A.R.
Gibb, « Islamic Biographical Literature », in Bernard Lewis et Peter M. Holt, éd.,
Historians of the Middle East, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1962, pp. 56-57.

78

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT
24

textes recueillis dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ . Les penseurs musulmans ont
souligné dans leurs écrits légaux, éthiques, pédagogiques et médicaux, l’importance de l’éducation des enfants dans le développement de leur potentiel
positif et leur transformation en adultes intègres ayant réussi leur vie. C’est
ainsi que Ibn al-Jazzār al-Qayrawānī (mort en 1004 ou 1005) dans le dernier
chapitre de son traité de pédiatrie, Siyāsat al-sibyān wa-tadbīruhum, chapitre
consacré à l’éducation des enfants, souligne le rôle crucial de l’éducation des
tout petits, comme étant susceptible de modifier des qualités innées néga25
tives et de renforcer les positives . Abū Hāmid Muhammad al-Ghazālī (mort
en 1111) exprima ce concept au début de son chapitre sur l’éducation des enfants dans « Kitāb riyādat al-nafs » (Ihyā’ ‘ulūm al-dīn, III) : « Sache que la
méthode éducative est cruciale. L’enfant est comme un dépôt aux mains des
parents… S’il est habitué au bien et familiarisé avec lui, il grandira dans le
bien, connaîtra le bonheur ici-bas aussi bien que dans l’autre monde et ses
parents et éducateurs bénéficieront des récompenses qu’il recevra. Mais s’il
est habitué au mal, et laissé à l’abandon comme un animal, il sera malheu 26
reux et perdu » . Quelque deux cents ans plus tard, ce concept se reflète
dans le titre du chapitre XVI de Tuhfat al-mawdūd d’Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziy24 Pourtant, la différenciation personnelle change selon le groupe auquel appartient la
personnalité étudiée et son importance sociale et historique. Cf. Dwight F. Reynolds,
Interpreting the Self : Autobiography in the Arabic Literary Tradition, Berkeley, Los
Angeles-Londres, University of California Press, 2001, p. 41. Si la période d’enfance
est signalée ici et là dans les dictionnaires biographiques, c’est généralement par des
anecdotes, certaines hagiographiques, destinées à montrer comment la grandeur de
l’objet de l’entrée biographique se révélait déjà dans son enfance, voire avant sa
naissance ou lors de sa venue au monde. Cf. Dorothy Abrahamse, « Images of Childhood in Early Byzantine Hagiography », The Journal of Psychohistory, 6, 1978, pp.
497-517, surtout pp. 498-499 ; Emilie Savage-Smith, « The exchange of medical and
surgical ideas between Europe and Islam », in John A.C. Greppin, Emilie SavageSmith et John L. Gueriguian, éd., The Diffusion of Greco-Roman Medicine into the
Middle East and the Caucasus, Delmar, NY, Caravan Books, 1999, p. 54 (Figure 7).
Ce problème de la représentation de l’enfance dans les dictionnaires biographiques
arabes serait digne d’être l’objet d’une recherche systématique. Quoi qu’il en soit,
touchant une branche proche, l’autobiographie, Dwight Reynolds proposa de noter
un développement progressif, autrement dit, un intérêt croissant envers les périodes
d’enfance aux XIVe et XVe siècles, au terme d’une longue période de désintérêt quasi
total. Voir Dwight F. Reynolds, « Childhood in One Thousand Years of Arabic Autobiography », Edebiyat, 7, 1997, pp. 379-392, surtout pp. 380-381. Franz Rosenthal,
« Child Psychology in Islam », Islamic Culture, 26, 1952, pp. 6-7.
25 Ibn al-Jazzār al-Qayrawānī, Siyāsat al-sibyān wa-tadbīruhum, édité par Muhammad
b. Habīb al-Hīla, Tūnis, al-Dār al-Tūnisiyya, 1968, pp. 134-138.
26 Abū Hāmid Muhammad al-Ghazālī, Ihyā’ ‘ulūm al-dīn, Le Caire, Mu’assasat alHalabī, 1967, III, p. 92.

79

AVNER GILADI

ya (mort en 1350) : « Rappel de chapitres éducatifs efficaces dans l’éducation
des enfants, et dont les résultats seront appréciés lorsque ces enfants seront
27
grands » . Les anecdotes figurant dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, par contre,
en soulignant le poids fondamental des qualités innées, atténuent l’importance de l’éducation – tout au moins, comme on l’a vu, dans la mesure où il
est question de personnalités hors du commun, et renforcent leur dimension
surnaturelle et le caractère hagiographique général du texte.
De nombreuses biographies d’enfance de Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ adoptent un caractère hagiographique avéré. Certaines d’entre elles sont des légendes, coupées de la réalité connue, dans la lignée des récits traditionnels
sur l’enfance de Muhammad, rapportés par Ibn Zafar dans le chapitre qui
ouvre son ouvrage. Il nous suffira de rappeler le récit des miracles se produisant durant la grossesse de Āmina, mère du Prophète, et lors de l’accouchement : Muhammad (encore fœtus) rayonne dans le ventre de sa mère ; celleci est avertie dans son sommeil, lors de sa grossesse, de la grandeur de l’en fant à naître et se voit enjoint de le nommer Muhammad (littéralement :
« loué ») ; à sa naissance, le bébé tombe à terre, se prosterne, soulève la tête
et le doigt vers le ciel, tandis que son rayonnement baigne toute la maison ;
au même moment, les étoiles du ciel s’approchent de la maison comme pour
28
y tomber, etc. Ajoutons les prédictions sur son avenir glorieux, émises lors
de son enfance, par son grand-père ‘Abd al-Muttalib, par le roi du Yémen,
29
Sayf b. Dhī Yazan (mort en 574) , par les mages de Banū Mudlij (distinguant
la ressemblance de la plante du pied de Muhammad enfant avec les plantes
des pieds d’Ibrāhīm dont l’empreinte est visible au maqām Ibrāhīm, près de

27 Muhammad b. Abī Bakr Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, Tuhfat al-mawdūd bi-ahkām almawlūd, Bombay, Sharafuddin, 1380/1961, p. 137.
28 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 8-9, 20. Ces motifs apparaissent abondamment dans les
chroniques et dans les recueils biographiques, et en particulier, dans les écrits spécialement consacrés à la biographie du Prophète, aux signes prophétiques qui se
révélèrent et à sa naissance (sīra, dalā’il al-nubuwwa, amarāt al-nubuwwa, mawlid
al-nabiyy). Cf., par exemple, ‘Abd al-Malik Ibn Hishām, Sīrat rasūl allāh, édité par
Ferdinand Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, Dieterichs, 1858-60, pp. 102-103 ; Muhammad Ibn
Sa‘d, Kitāb al-tabaqāt al-kubrā, Beyrouth, 1957, I, pp. 100-103 ; Muhammad b.
Ibrāhīm al-Kharkūshī, Sharaf al-mustafā, Beyrouth, Dār al-Bashā’ir al-Islāmiyya,
2003, I, 354-357 ; Abū Nu‘aym al-Isfahānī, Kitāb dalā’il al-nubuwwa, Haydarabad, Majlis Dā’irat al-Ma‘ārif, 1977, pp. 93-100 ; Ahmad b. al-Husayn al-Bayhaqī,
Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, Beyrouth, Dār al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1985, pp. 102-114.
29 Cf., par exemple, al-Kharkūshī, Sharaf al-mustafā, I, pp. 188-192 ; ‘Alī b. al-Hasan Ibn
‘Asākir, Ta’rīkh madīnat Dimashq, édité par Mubibb al-Dīn b. Gharāma al-‘Amrāwī,
Beyrouth, Dār al-Fikr, 1995, III, pp. 440-445.

80

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT
30

la Ka‘ba) et par Aktham b. Sayfī al-Tamīmī, hakīm al-‘arab (« le philosophe
31
des Arabes », mort en 630) , ainsi que le célèbre récit sur l’ouverture de la
32
poitrine de Muhammad, évoqué plus bas . Parfois, Muhammad est décrit
non seulement comme porteur de signes annonçant son glorieux avenir,
mais comme un enfant saint dont l’intercession (à six ans) aide son grandpère, puis, plus tard (à neuf ans), son oncle, grâce à ses supplications à Dieu
33
pour qu’il fasse pleuvoir sur les terres des Banū Qays et Mudar .
Des signes de grandeur, moins merveilleux néanmoins, se révélèrent
chez d’autres petits enfants, selon Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’. Ibn Zafar propose
un « index » des qualités physiques, par exemple, la grosseur de la tête, la
forme de la chevelure, le front, les sourcils et les yeux, les joues, le nez, la
langue, le cou et la poitrine, les épaules, les bras et les jambes, le prépuce ; et
des qualités morales – modération, mesure, modestie, constance dans la
bienséance et un parler châtié, générosité – témoignant d’un potentiel de
34
leader présent chez l’enfant , échos des descriptions longues et détaillées
35
des qualités du Prophète Muhammad adulte .
Un motif récurrent dans les biographies d’enfance est le diagnostic précoce – et même très précoce – des qualités rares qui entraînent parfois un
comportement spécial envers l’enfant prodige et une attitude préférentielle
par rapport à ses frères. C’est ainsi que ‘Abd Allāh b. Ja‘far b. Abī Tālib, le
neveu de ‘Alī, distingue les qualités exceptionnelles de son fils Mu‘āwiya
36
(mort en 728, ou à peu près) – et qui allait devenir poète – lui octroyant
37
une attention particulière (wa-kāna yakhtassuhu ‘alā sā’ir wuldihi) . On raconte à propos de ‘Abd Allāh b. Muhammad al-Mu‘tazz bi llāh (mort en 908)
qu’il « prononçait des paroles de sagesse » (nataqa bi l-hikma) déjà dans son
30 Cf., par exemple, al-Isfahānī, Kitāb dalā’il al-nubuwwa, p. 122 ; Ibn ‘Asākir, III, p. 85.
31 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 7, 13, 18, 19, 25-27, 36.
32 Ibid, pp. 20-24. Coran, Sūrat al-sharh (94) et les commentaires du Coran, par exemple
Ismā‘īl Ibn Kathīr, Tafsīr al-qur’ān al-‘azīm, Beyrouth, Dār al-Ma‘rifa, 2004, p. 1722 ;
Ibn Hishām, Sīrat rasūl allāh, p. 106 ; Ibn ‘Asākir, Ta’rīkh madīnat Dimashq, III, pp.
90-91, 93-94.
33 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 34-35. Pour une étude approfondie des récits arabes sur
la naissance du Prophète et sur la grossesse de sa mère, cf. Marion Holmes Katz, The
Birth of the Prophet Muhammad : Devotional Piety in Sunni Islam, Londres-New York,
Routledge, 2007, pp. 6-62.
34 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 36-38.
35 Cf., par exemple, Ahmad b. al-Husayn al-Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, Médine, alMaktaba al-Salafiyya, pp. 150-247.
36 Khayr al-Dīn al-Ziriklī, al-A‘lām, Beyrouth, Dār al-‘ilm li’l-malāyīn, 1992, VII, p. 262
(« Mu‘āwiya al-Tālibī »).
37 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 90.

81

AVNER GILADI
38

enfance, et l’on cite des dialogues brillants entre lui et son précepteur .
Dans des récits semblables sur l’enfance annonciatrice de gloire du commandant et gouverneur omeyyade ‘Umar b. Sa‘īd b. al-‘Ās (surnommé alAshdaq ; selon la tradition, il fut exécuté par le calife ‘Abd al-Malik en 689
39
ou 690) , et du second calife omeyyade Yazīd b. Mu‘āwiya (qui gouverna de
40
680 à 683) , s’ajoute un élément de protestation : le frère du sujet de la biographie, dans le premier cas, et l’une des femmes du calife (pas la mère de
Yazīd, bien entendu), dans le second cas, se plaignent de la préférence accordée aux enfants talentueux. Les quatre rois sassanides dont les récits d’enfance sont rapportés dans le recueil qui nous concerne sont présentés
comme des « enfants prodiges » : comme nous l’avons déjà vu, ils furent
pour la plupart couronnés dès leur enfance ; et l’un d’eux le fut même dans
41
le ventre de sa mère .
Des soufis célèbres se distinguent dans leur enfance par une religiosité
naïve mais sans compromis. On relate ainsi la façon dont Abū Yazīd alBistāmī (mort en 874) questionne son père sur l’attitude du Coran envers la
prière nocturne, et finit par le convaincre de commencer à respecter cette
coutume. Plus encore, il insiste pour apprendre les lois de la purification et
pour prier la nuit avec son père, malgré les tentatives de celui-ci pour le détourner, puisque, encore un mineur, il n'était pas censé, de point de vue légal, observer ces commandements. Il découvre également que sa mère a pris
sans permission de l’huile à ses voisins, afin d’oindre le corps de son fils bé42
bé ; il la pousse alors à demander leur permission a posteriori . Le respect
strict des commandements par un enfant apparaît aussi chez un adolescent
portefaix qui ne renonce pas, même durant son travail, à la prière, au jeûne
43
et à la fréquentation prolongée de la mosquée , ainsi que dans l’exemple
d’un jeune partant pour le hajj, en dépit de tous les dangers de la route, em44
pli d’une confiance absolue en Dieu (tawakkul) .
Un motif hagiographique ressort particulièrement du récit d’enfance de
38 Ibid., pp. 117-119.
39 Ibid., p. 100, 102. Cf. également Karl V. Zetterstéen, « ‘Amr b. Sa‘īd al-Ashdak », Enc.
Islam 2, I, pp. 466-467.
40 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 105-106. Cf. également Gerald R. Hawting, « Yazīd (Ier) b.
Mu‘āwiya », Enc. Islam 2, XI, pp. 336-337.
41 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 176-197.
42 Ibid., pp. 150-152.
43 Ibid., pp. 154-155. Cf. également infra la description de l’enfance d’Ahmad al-Nūrī et
Dā’ūd al-Tā’ī.
44 Ibid., pp. 155-156.

82

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

‘Abd Allāh b. al-Zubayr (petit-fils d’Abū Bakr), commandant du Hedjaz et
rebelle aux autorités (il fut tué au combat contre les forces omeyyades en
45
692) . Selon des sources anciennes, ‘Abd Allāh aurait été le premier enfant
des muhājirūn (« expatriés ») à Médine, et le Prophète l’aurait accueilli par
les mots « c’est l’homme » (huwa huwa, littéralement : « c’est lui »), annon46
çant monts et merveilles . Mais en outre, le jeune ‘Abd Allāh eut, au moins
par deux fois, le privilège d’une bénédiction du Prophète et d’une parcelle de
sa sainteté par un contact physique. Une série de traditions, dont Ibn Zafar,
pour une quelconque raison, ne fait pas cas, le décrit comme étant amené,
tout nouveau-né, au Prophète, qui procède sur lui au tahnīk – acte rituel
consistant à cracher une datte mâchée de la bouche du Prophète vers celle
du bébé, une datte avec laquelle le Prophète lui avait également frotté le pa 47
lais . Dans le récit rapporté dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, la sainteté du Prophète est véhiculée d’une façon encore plus surprenante ; lorsqu’on procède
sur le Prophète, selon sa demande, à la saignée (rituelle ?), il envoie ‘Abd
Allāh cacher le sang dans un endroit secret, et l’enfant, profitant de cette occasion, boit le sang du Prophète. A son retour, le Prophète découvre la chose
au terme d’une courte enquête, mais en dépit de l’interdiction coranique ré48
pétée de boire le sang des êtres animés , il ne gronde pas ‘Abd Allāh, avali49
sant ainsi cet acte a posteriori . Rien d’étonnant, donc, à ce que ‘Abd Allāh
b. al-Zubayr figure parmi le tout petit groupe d’enfants comprenant en outre
45 Hamilton A. R. Gibb, « ‘Abd Allāh b. al-Zubayr », Enc. Islam 2, I, pp. 56-57.
46 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 85.
47 Avner Giladi, Children of Islam: Concepts of Childhood in Medieval Muslim Societies,
Houndmills-Londres, Macmillan, 1992, pp. 35-41.
48 Coran 2, 173 ; 5, 3 ; 6, 145 ; 16, 115. Cf. Earle H. Waugh, « Blood and Blood Clot »,
Enc. Qur’ān, I, pp. 237-238.
49 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 86. Cf. Denis Gril, « Le corps du Prophète », in Catherine
Mayeur-Jaouen et Bernard Heyberger, éd., Le corps et le sacré en Orient musulman,
Revue des Mondes musulmans et de la Méditerranée, 113-114, 2006, p. 50. Un autre exemple de transmission de la sainteté du Prophète est relaté (ibid., pp. 79-80) à propos
de ‘Abd Allāh b. al-‘Abbās, considéré comme le plus grand des érudits de la première
génération de l’Islam, et le père du commentaire du Coran (mort en 686 ou 688),
cette fois par une caresse de la tête et un crachat dans la bouche de ‘Abd Allāh enfant. À cette même occasion, le Prophète demande à Dieu d’accorder à l’enfant de la
sagesse et de lui enseigner le commentaire du Coran. Par la suite, le second calife
‘Umar b. al-Khattāb introduisit ‘Abd Allāh dans le cercle de ses proches, et prenait
conseil de lui, en dépit de son jeune âge. Cf. Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 79-80 et
comparez avec Akhbār al-dawla l-‘abbāsiyya wa-fihi akhbār al-‘Abbās wa-waladihi
(d’un auteur anonyme du neuvième siècle de l’ère chrétienne), édité par ‘Abd al‘Aziz al-Dūrī et ‘Abd al-Jabbār al-Matlabī, Beyrouth, Dār al-Talī‘a, 1971, pp. 25-26.
Voir aussi Laura Veccia Vaglieri, « ‘Abd Allāh b. al-‘Abbās », Enc. Islam 2, I, pp. 41-42.

83

AVNER GILADI

al-Hasan et al-Husayn, les fils de ‘Alī et de Fātima, et ‘Abd Allāh b. al-‘Abbās,
que le Prophète convertit à l’Islam alors qu’ils étaient encore tout jeunes
(bāya‘ahum saghīran, littéralement : « fit avec eux alliance de fidélité »), leur
octroyant ainsi un statut privilégié dans la première communauté des
50
croyants .
Dans le récit d’enfance du Prophète, sa mère (puis sa nourrice) dis51
tinguent des signes annonçant sa grandeur ; il en est de même dans les ré52
53
cits d’enfance d’Abū Bakr et de Mu‘āwiya . La mère de ‘Alī partage le secret de l’enfant : il ne peut manger la nourriture servie dans la maison de
son père, et la rejette avec des nausées, et ne peut absorber que celle de la
54
maison du Prophète – derechef, la sainteté est transmise par la bouche . Et
Fātima, la fille du Prophète, amène ses enfants, al-Hasan et al-Husayn, chez
son père pour qu’il répande sur eux ses qualités. Le rôle principal des mères
dans ces récits légendaires reflète non seulement une image courante des relations mère-fils, mais également un aspect crucial des rapports inter-familiaux dans les sociétés musulmanes médiévales (cf. infra).
D’autres chapitres d’Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ sont dénués de ces signes
miraculeux et de ces actes extraordinaires, même s’ils sont effectivement
destinés à témoigner des dons exceptionnels d’enfants devenus célèbres à
l’âge adulte (par exemple, Daghfal b. Hanzala, surnommé nāsib en raison de
55
sa connaissance approfondie des généalogies des Arabes ) ; de leur intelligence (citons l’exemple de ‘Amr b. al-‘Ās, le chef militaire et l’homme
56
d’État, appelé dāhiyat al-‘arab, « le plus sagace, ou rusé, des Arabes ») ; de
leur religiosité et leur attachement à l’Islam et à la pratique de ses comman 57
dements (par exemple, Ma‘rūf al-Karkhī le soufi, cf. supra) ; de leurs qualités morales (par exemple, al-Hārith al-Muhāsibī, une autre personnalité sou58
fie de Bagdad , cf. infra), et enfin de leurs aspirations à l’influence et à la
puissance (par exemple, al-Hasan et Sulaymān Banū Wahb qui sont devenu
59
vizirs sous les Abbassides au IXe siècle) .
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59

Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 81.
Ibid., pp. 8-9, 20.
Ibid., p. 43.
Ibid., pp. 62-63.
Ibid., pp. 49-50.
Ibid., pp. 167-169.
Ibid., pp. 75-78.
Ibid., pp. 141-143.
Ibid., pp. 148-150.
Ibid., pp. 136-140.

84

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

Quels sont les messages véhiculés par les récits d’enfance d’Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ ? Contribuent-ils à l’étude de l’histoire de l’enfance dans les
sociétés musulmanes ? Quels détails vrais sur la réalité de la vie des familles,
sur les conceptions de l’enfance et sur les rapports des adultes avec les enfants peut-on tirer des récits de miracles destinés à rehausser les qualités de
la personnalité évoquée ?
Selon notre hypothèse, ces anecdotes insérées dans Anbā’ nujabā’ alabnā’, même si elles revêtent la forme de « légendes de saints » (« Légende
60
dorée ») islamiques , relatent des événements extraordinaires sur un fond
naturel et ordinaire, renforçant ainsi leur nature exceptionnelle, tout en
fournissant simultanément des détails sur l’ordinaire de la vie quotidienne et
61
sur les conceptions de la société et du temps . Et ce, parallèlement à leur
fonction centrale dans la création d’images et la diffusion de valeurs, tout
comme, par exemple, pour les « matériaux » des recueils biographiques sou62
fis . De ce point de vue, le fait qu’une partie du texte soit tirée du domaine
60 L’utilisation des concepts d’hagiographie ou de Légende dorée dans un contexte islamique se fait dans une pleine conscience des différences entre le concept de ‘saint’
dans l’islam et dans le christianisme. Cf. Julian Baldick, Mystical Islam : An Introduction to Sufism, Londres, I.B. Tauris, 1986, p. 16.
61 Comparez avec l’emploi des textes hagiographiques grecs dans l’étude de l’histoire
byzantine ancienne, et en particulier l’histoire de l’enfance : Abrahamse, « Images of
Childhood », pp. 497-517.
62 Cf. Jawid A. Mojaddedi, The Biographical Tradition in Sufism : The ṭabaqāt genre
from al-Sulamī to Jāmī, Richmond (Surrey), Curzon, 2001, pp. 55-56. Évoquant les
traditions décrivant la mort de Junayd dans la notice qui lui est consacrée dans Hilyat al-awliyā’ d’Abū Nu‘aym al-Isfahānī, Mojaddedi écrit (p. 55) : « Ces différents récits du même événement soulignent les risques de l’utilisation de segments biographiques comme sources d’événements historiques. Même en sachant, dans ce cas,
que l’événement en question (la mort de Junayd) dut se produire d’une façon ou
d’une autre, et que l’un et l’autre segment relaté semble plausible, il n’existe aucune
raison de préférer l’un à l’autre. Il apparaît néanmoins en même temps que les deux
versions ont la même fonction, celle d’attribuer à Junayd une mort pieuse. C’est
peut-être précisément là que réside leur signification : dans leur fonction, plutôt que
dans leur historicité. Aucune d’entre elles ne peut être acceptée comme un récit historique, mais chacune sert à attribuer à Junayd une mort empreinte de piété ». Plus
loin, (page 56), Mojaddedi ajoute : « La Hilya a longtemps été considérée par les historiens comme une riche source de narratifs, dans la mesure où il inclut généralement pour chaque biographie une plus grande abondance que les autres ouvrages de
l’époque, pour ne rien dire du fait qu’il contient de nombreuses biographies tout
simplement introuvables ailleurs avant le onzième siècle. Pourtant, plutôt que de
présumer qu’il peut servir de source de données neutres pour une reconstruction
historique, il vaut la peine de profiter de la longueur de l’ouvrage pour observer certains facteurs comme la fréquence des variations et les topoi anecdotiques, ainsi que
des problèmes logistiques posés par l’existence de relations concurrentes d’un même

85

AVNER GILADI

de la culture perse pré-islamique, n’annule pas la possibilité qu’ils puissent
refléter une sagesse populaire liée à l’enfance, remplissant également une
fonction dans les rapports adultes-enfants dans les sociétés islamiques.
Nombre d’aperçus reflétés dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ sont universels, de
par leur contenu, mais situés dans des contextes islamiques spécifiques.
Un excellent exemple d’un « récit de saint » fournissant également des
détails concrets sur la vie des enfants et les rapports parents – enfant, est
fourni par la scène qui se déroule entre Muhammad et Halīma bint Abī
Dhu’ayb, sa nourrice et mère adoptive, de la tribu du désert Sa‘d b. Bakr,
telle que cette scène est décrite dans la littérature des Dalā’il al-nubuwwa
(« signes de la prophétie »). Halīma se garde d’envoyer Muhammad enfant
garder le menu bétail au loin, comme l’ont fait ses propres enfants, car, puisqu’il est exceptionnel, elle le surveille tout particulièrement. Ce caractère
d’exception s’exprime entre autres par le fait que Muhammad ne joue pas
63
avec les enfants de son âge . Le texte donne à comprendre que le jeu est
perçu comme une activité caractéristique des enfants (cf. infra). Un jour,
Halīma cède aux supplications de Muhammad en pleurs : fa-asbala ‘aynāhu
fa-bakā fa-qāla : ‘ya ummāh, fa-mā asna‘u ha-hunā wahdī ? ib‘athīnī ma‘ahum’ (« ses yeux laissaient couler des larmes et il dit en pleurs : ‘mère, que
ferais-je ici tout seul ? Laisse-moi partir avec eux’ »), et elle le laisse se
joindre à ses frères qui mènent paître le troupeau. Même si cet épisode est
amené comme cadre d’un événement surnaturel, sharh al-sadr (« l’ouverture
de la poitrine ») et la purification du futur Prophète par les anges – un événement se déroulant dans le champ éloigné – il inclut des détails concrets,
non seulement sur l’état d’esprit des enfants, comme nous l’avons vu, mais
également sur les soins donnés par la mère à son jeune enfant quittant la
maison : fa-lammā asbaha dahanathu wa-kahhalathu wa-qammasathu wa‘amadat ilā kharzat jaz‘ yamāniyya fa-‘alaqat fī ‘unqihi min al-‘ayn
(« quand l’enfant se leva, elle oignit son corps d’huile, mit du khôl (fard)
événement. On ferait preuve de courte vue en supposant que le contenu de ces biographies constitue un reflet de la réalité historique, et, plus important encore, ce
serait là encourager une interprétation superficielle des travaux biographiques, ne
rendant pas justice aux traditions dynamiques qui les ont initiés ».
63 Pourtant, dans sa biographie d’enfance dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, Muhammad est
décrit non seulement comme « un enfant qui joue » (ghulām yal‘abu, p. 18), mais
également comme passant son temps en compagnie d’enfants de son âge (fa-baynamā anā dhāt yawm muntabidh min ahlī fī batn wād ma‘a atrab lī min al-sibyān…,
p. 20) et même participant à un jeu avec d’autres enfants (wa-huwa sabiyy yal‘abu
ma‘a ‘l-sibyān, p. 24).

86

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

dans ses yeux, et le vêtit d’une tunique. Puis elle alla prendre une perle
d’agathe yéménite [?] et la suspendit à son cou comme protection contre le
64
mauvais œil » . Le dévouement de la mère, de son mari – le « père de lait »
de Muhammad – et de ses frères en nourrice se révèle de manière encore
plus dramatique durant et immédiatement après l’événement de sharh alsadr lui même. Lorsque l’enfant est capturé par les anges qui vont purifier
son cœur, les frères de Muhammad supplient de le laisser en vie et de le
prendre en pitié, en arguant qu’il s’agit d’un orphelin de père (fa-huwa mus65
tarda‘ fīnā min ghulām yatīm, laysa lahu ab) . Ses parents adoptifs, appelés
au secours, arrivent pleins d’effroi et constatent, à leur vif soulagement,
qu’aucun mal ne lui a été fait (fa-qāla abī – wa-huwa zawj zi’rī – alā taraw66
na kalāmahu kalāman fasīhan ? innī laarjū allā yakūna bi’bnī ba’s) .
Avec ou sans ce fond miraculeux, il est difficile d’imaginer un lien entre
les récits relatés dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ et les biographies de personnalités qui y sont décrites dans leur réalité concrète. Néanmoins, nous l’avons
dit, il ne faut pas occulter la valeur des nombreux détails reflétant des aspects de la vie des enfants et les attitudes adultes à leur égard à l’époque
67
d’Ibn Zafar et avant lui, durant les siècles d’élaboration de ces récits .

Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’,
source pour l’histoire de l’enfance
Au début de Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, Ibn Zafar assure que les descendants de
l’homme font partie de son destin : certains constituent un appui sûr, une
source de satisfaction, de renommée, et c’est pourquoi ils lui sont plus pré68
cieux que tout , au point que ce souci risque de le pousser à l’avarice et la
64
65
66
67
68

Bayhaqī, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, p. 140.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 21.
Ibid., p. 23.
Cf. Abrahamse, « Early Byzantine Hagiography », p. 512.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 4. Le verset 14 de la sourate Āl ‘Imrān (3) du Coran sert ici
de référence : « L’amour des biens convoités est présenté aux hommes sous des apparences belles et trompeuses ; tels sont les femmes, les enfants, les lourds amoncellements d’or et d’argent »… Le Coran, traduction de Denise Masson, Paris, Gallimard, 1967, I, p. 61. En explicitant ce verset dans le contexte de ses paroles sur le
désir de progéniture, Ibn Zafar pense que celle-ci occupe la première place dans la
liste des choses que l’homme veut se procurer, et que les femmes, citées avant elle
dans le verset, ne sont qu’un moyen de mettre les enfants au monde. Cette opinion
est renforcée par le hadith en faveur de la femme fertile et dénigrant la femme
stérile. Cf., par exemple, al-Ghazāli, Ihyā’ ‘ulūm al-dīn, II, p. 34 (« Kitāb ādāb alnikāh »).

87

AVNER GILADI
69

mollesse . Mais d’autres enfants le précipitent dans le déshonneur et les
chagrins. Dans la présentation des avantages et des inconvénients inhérents
aux enfants, dans un style caractéristique du genre littéraire appelé al-mahā70
sin wa l-masāwī (« les qualités et les défauts ») , se révèle une attitude ambivalente envers les enfants dans les sociétés musulmanes médiévales. Aux
côtés d’une opinion positive envers l’enfant – beaucoup des textes arabo-islamiques reflètent une prise de conscience de la spécificité de cette période
de la vie, des lois du développement enfantin et des besoins spécifiques des
enfants – existaient dans les sphères de l’influence culturelle islamique, des
concepts d’enfance comme une période de passage, secondaire par rapport à
l’âge adulte, période où l’enfant aurait été une sorte d’adulte imparfait, qu’il
71
fallait corriger rapidement – presque par tous les moyens .

Parents et enfants
Les écrits éthiques et juridiques islamiques du Moyen Âge tenaient compte
des sentiments parentaux et encourageaient les musulmans à exprimer leurs
sentiments, mais uniquement dans une certaine mesure. On recommandait
par exemple aux croyants de réfréner leurs réactions affectives lors de la
mort d’enfants, et de bien se garder de commettre un péché en se révoltant
72
contre l’arrêt de Dieu .
Les spécialistes de la loi musulmane, tenant compte de la psychologie
des parents et des enfants, voulurent éviter une séparation entre les uns et
les autres, et fournirent une sorte d’« espace protégé » en accordant à la
mère le droit prioritaire d’allaiter et de garder les enfants, jusqu’à un âge re69 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 4-5 : ...Wa-ma‘nā hādhā l-qawl... anna hubb al-walad waītār maslahatihi māni‘āni min al-infāq wa l-jihād fī sabīl allāh ta‘ālā wa-dhālika
anna ‘l-insān yurīdu baqā’ mālihi li-yuwaffirahu li-waladihi fa-yakūnu bi-dhālika
bakhīlan wa-yurīdu baqā’ nafsihi li-yatawallā maslahat waladihi fa-yakūnu bi-dhālika
jabānan. C’est là une explication du hadith : al-walad mabkhala, majbana, cité entre
autres dans le Musnad d’Ibn Hanbal, Le Caire, 1313 AH, IV, p. 172 ; Ibn Mājah,
Sunan, édition de Fu’ād ‘Abd al-Bāqī, Beyrouth, Dār al-Fikr, s.d., II, p. 1209 (« Kitāb
al-adab », bab 3).
70 Ibrahim Geries, « al-Mahāsin wa-‘l-Masāwi », Enc. Islam 2, V, pp. 1214-1217. Cf., par
exemple, Ibrāhīm b. Muhammad al-Bayhaqī, al-Mahāsin wa l-masāwī, Beyrouth, Dār
al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 1999. L’influence de ce genre littéraire est sensible surtout dans
al-Dararī fī dhikr al-Dhararī d’Ibn al-‘Adīm. Cf. en particulier les six premiers
chapitres.
71 Rosenthal, « Child Psychology in Islam », ibid. ; Giladi, Children of Islam, Chapter I.
72 Avner Giladi, « ‘The child was small… not so the grief for him’: Sources, Structure
and Content of al-Sakhāwī’s Consolation Treatise for Bereaved Parents », Poetics
Today, 14, 1993, pp. 367-386.

88

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT
73

lativement avancé, en cas de séparation d’avec leur père . Les récits d’enfance dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ décrivent – parfois simplement et parfois
dans un but tout à fait didactique – des scènes d’intimité entre adultes (et
spécialement parents) et enfants, avec des manifestations de tendresse,
74
d’amour, de compréhension et d’estime . Pères et mères apparaissent dans
ces récits, mais parmi les enfants, ne figurent que des garçons. Pas une seule
de ces biographies d’enfance dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ n’est consacrée à
une femme. Même si les femmes adultes ne sont pas totalement absentes des
recueils biographiques arabes composés depuis les débuts de l’Islam et jus75
qu’à l’aube des temps modernes , et même si certains de ces recueils,
comme Kitāb al-tabaqāt al-kabīr (« Livre de générations ») de Muhammad
Ibn Sa‘d (mort en 845), ou al-Daw’ al-lāmi‘ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsi‘ (« La Lumière qui éclaire les personnes du IX e siècle [islamique] ») de ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Sakhāwī (1427–1497), se révèlent remarquables quant à l’importance
76
77
relativement grande qu’ils leur consacrent , leur place ici reste mineure .
La tradition islamique décrit le Prophète Muhammad comme père et
78
grand-père aimant et soucieux . Il offre ainsi un modèle à imiter : les manifestations d’amour, de tendresse, de compassion et de contacts physiques
comme porter les enfants (haml al-wildān), les humer (shammuhum), les embrasser (taqbīluhum) s’en trouvent renforcées et légitimées. Les parents, et
en particulier les pères se conduisant de la sorte, se voient ainsi encouragés.
Un récit de ce type est proposé par Ibn Zafar. Il décrit Fātima, fille du Prophète, venue en larmes raconter à son père que ses deux fils, al-Hasan et alHusayn, avaient disparu. Muhammad la calme en lui rappelant la compas73 Harald Motzki, « Das Kind und seine Sozialisation in der islamischen Familie des
Mittelalters », in Jochen Martin et August Nitschke, éd., Zur Sozialgeschichte der
Kindheit, Fribourg-Munich, K. Alber, 1986, pp. 417-421 ; Avner Giladi, Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses : Medieval Muslim Views on Breastfeeding and Their Social Implications, Leyde-Boston-Cologne, Brill, 1999, pp. 94-106.
74 Cf. D. Reynolds, « Childhood in One Thousand Years », pp. 383-384.
75 Ruth Roded, Women in Islamic Biographical Collections : From Ibn Sa‘d to Who’s Who,
Boulder-Londres, Lynne Rienner, 1994.
76 R. Roded, Women in Islamic Biographical Collections, p. 3 ; Huda Lutfi, « Al-Sakhawi’s Kitab al-nisā’ as a source for the social and economic history of the Muslim women during the fifteenth century AD », The Muslim World, 71, 1981, pp. 101-124.
77 Avner Giladi, « Gender differences in child rearing and education : Some preliminary observations with reference to medieval Muslim thought », Al-Qantara, XVI,
1995, pp. 291-308, surtout 301-302.
78 Un grand nombre de hadiths de ce type se trouve dans l’ouvrage d’Abū Bakr ‘Abd
Allāh Ibn Abī l-Dunyā (mort en 894 ou 895), Kitāb al-‘Iyāl, al-Mansūra, Dār al-Wafā’,
1997, et en particulier dans les chapitres 6-8.

89

AVNER GILADI

sion divine et se tourne immédiatement vers Dieu en le suppliant de protéger ses petits-fils. L’ange Jibrīl (Gabriel) est par conséquent envoyé pour
prévenir le Prophète que les enfants se trouvent dans l’enclos du bétail des
Banū al-Najjār et qu’un ange les préserve de tout mal. Le Prophète s’empresse de se rendre à l’endroit indiqué et trouvent ses deux petits-fils dans
les bras l’un de l’autre. Ils reposent sur l’une des ailes de l’ange, tandis que
l’autre aile les ombrage. Le Prophète se courbe, les éveille avec des baisers et
pose un enfant sur chacune de ses épaules. Lorsqu’Abū Bakr venu à sa rencontre, lui propose de l’aider en prenant l’un des enfants, Muhammad refuse
79
de renoncer à son fardeau chéri et béni .
Les traditions touchant aux liens spirituels intimes tissées entre Muhammad – dont tous les enfants mâles sont morts jeunes – et ses petits-fils, illustrent un phénomène humain connu : les rapports grand-père/petits-fils
comme compensation du manque de rapports père/fils. Dans un hadith rapporté par Ibn Zafar, Muhammad a une vision du moment où, au Jour du Jugement, les Prophètes rivaliseront de louanges sur leurs enfants, et où lui,
Muhammad, se glorifiera de « ses enfants », en fait ses petits-enfants, al-Ha80
san et al-Husayn .
Les sentiments paternels du Prophète se manifestent également envers
d’autres enfants. Il est ainsi décrit comme annonçant à la femme de son neveu, Ja‘far b. Abī Tālib, la mort de celui-ci à la bataille de Mu’ta. La main de
Muhammad caresse la tête de ‘Abd Allāh, le benjamin du défunt, et des
larmes coulent sur les joues du Prophète. On relate également la façon dont
le Prophète prend l’enfant dans ses bras et le fait asseoir devant lui sur la
dernière marche de la chaire de la mosquée, lorsqu’il se lève pour prêcher,
« et sa tristesse est perceptible ». Il pourvoit en outre à tous les besoins de
81
l’enfant et de sa famille lors de la période de deuil . De telles traditions renforcent l’exigence, maintes fois répétée dans le Coran et la Sunna, d’aider les
82
orphelins et de se soucier d’eux . Outre ce message moral, ces traditions oc-

79 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 57-58.
80 Ibid., p. 56.
81 Ibid., pp. 88-89. Sur la mort de Ja‘far b. Abī Tālib et la réaction du Prophète, cf., par
exemple, Muhammad Ibn Sa‘d, Kitāb al-tabaqāt al-kabīr, éd. Eduard Sachau, Leyde,
Brill, 1906, IV/1, pp. 22-28.
82 A. Giladi, « Children », Enc. Qur’ān, I, p. 302 ; id. « Orphans », Enc. Qur’ān, III, pp.
603-604 ; Arent J. Wensink, A Handbook of Early Muhammadan Tradition, Leyde,
Brill, 1960, s.v. « Orphans » ; Eric Chaumont, « Yatīm », Enc. Islam 2, XI, pp. 324-325.
Cf. aussi Ibn Abī l-Dunyā, Kitāb al-‘iyāl, pp. 340-352.

90

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

troient une légitimité, voire même encouragent, les manifestations de tendresse et d’amour envers les enfants.
C’est sans doute sous l’influence de la tradition touchant le Prophète
que furent diffusés des récits sur d’autres personnages célèbres, ayant fait
preuve d’une attitude chaleureuse et compréhensive envers leurs jeunes enfants. Mais ceux d’entre ces récits ne visant pas à octroyer une légitimation,
et dont les héros n’étaient pas marqués du sceau de la sainteté, reflètent des
comportements habituels et familiers dans les sociétés musulmanes médiévales. Certes, le récit rapportant le lien intime entre l’enfant ‘Alī b. Abī Tālib
et Muhammad, son cousin plus âgé, et relatant que ‘Alī ne pouvait digérer la
nourriture servie dans la maison de son père et avait l’habitude de séjourner
et de manger généralement dans la demeure du Prophète, joue un rôle précis : il vise à renforcer l’argument chiite sur la détention du pouvoir, non
seulement en raison des liens de sang et de mariage, mais également en raison d’une intimité spirituelle et physique, liée à la passation de la sainteté
83
par la bouche lors de l’enfance . Mais ce récit recèle en outre des éléments
humains universels indéniables dans la réalité historique, même si ce n’est
pas forcément dans le contexte biographique cité : le père de ‘Alī, Abū Tālib,
se rend compte de l’absence de son fils pendant les repas, et demande qu’on
le fasse revenir de chez Muhammad et Khadīja. Lorsque l’enfant est amené
par son frère, Ja‘far (évoqué infra dans un autre contexte), le père vient tout
84
joyeux à sa rencontre, le fait asseoir sur ses genoux, le caresse et le nourrit .
Des scènes semblables – par exemple, un père (al-‘Ās b. Wā’il) berce et fait
danser son jeune fils (‘Amr) et lui récite [une chanson ?] – figurent dans
85
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ , aux côtés d’une scène familiale intime décrivant
un père mangeant en compagnie de ses jeunes fils (Ja‘far et al-Fadl de la famille Barmak qui allaient devenir vizirs au service des Abbassides) et les
86
amusant de ses récits .
Le chagrin parental lors de la séparation d’avec les enfants constitue un
motif familier dans les descriptions des réactions adultes à la mort d’enfants
87
dans les sociétés musulmanes médiévales . Dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ on
trouve, par exemple, le récit de la disparition de Ma‘rūf al-Karkhī (mort en
815 ou 816). Né dans une famille chrétienne, il s’opposa dès son enfance à
83
84
85
86
87

Cf. Abrahamse, « Early Byzantine Hagiography », p. 498.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 49.
Ibid., p. 76 et cf. également p. 51 sur ‘Abd al-Muttalib b. Hāshim et son fils ‘Abbās.
Ibid., p. 133.
Giladi, Children of Islam, pp. 86-93.

91

AVNER GILADI

l’éducation dogmatique du kuttāb chrétien, nia catégoriquement la Trinité et
insista sur un monothéisme pur face à un enseignant violent qui le rouait de
88
coups . En fin de compte, il s’enfuit de chez lui, mais ses parents – on parle
explicitement ici de son père et de sa mère – ne supportent pas sa dispari tion, et leur angoisse provoque presque leur propre perte.
Au terme d’une longue période, Ma‘rūf revint, comme musulman, et
convertit même ses parents à l’Islam. Devenu un saint soufi, il allait finalement aider à retrouver un enfant dont les parents – il est précisé ici qu’il
89
s’agit surtout de la mère – déploraient profondément la disparition .
« Nul comme un père ne connaît son fils » (qad ‘araftum khibrat al-wālid bi-waladihi) précise Sa‘īd b. al-‘Ās devant ses enfants lorsqu’il loue son
90
fils chéri al-Ashdaq . Dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, les pères ne semblent
pas spécialement sévères, même lorsqu’ils appliquent l’autorité qui leur sied,
91
selon le point de vue accepté dans les sociétés patriarcales , lorsqu’ils surveillent et mettent à l’épreuve les connaissances de l’enfant : Mu‘āwiya, le
calife omeyyade, vérifie les progrès de son fils Yazīd, âgé de sept ans, dans la
récitation du Coran (cf. infra), et contrôle ses connaissances et celles de son
92
frère (d’une autre mère) ; le calife abbasside Hārūn al-Rashīd vérifie le niveau de ses fils, al-Amīn et al-Ma’mūn, pour décider lequel des deux est le
93
plus apte à gouverner . Quant au vizir Yahyā al-Barmakī, il examine ses en94
fants grâce au jeu d’échecs, comme on le verra ci-dessous .
Compte tenu des caractéristiques patrilinéaires et patriarcales de la famille dans les sociétés musulmanes médiévales, et de la nature des sources
anciennes, ces manifestations de sentiments paternels et d’intimité entre
pères et fils révèlent – en dépit du caractère purement anecdotique des descriptions dans le texte qui nous concerne – des comportements au sein de la
cellule familiale, promouvant ainsi la reconstitution d’une « histoire intime »
95
de ces sociétés .
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95

Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 141-142.
Ibid., p. 142-143
Ibid., p. 100.
Sur l’autorité paternelle, l’image sévère du père et ses conséquences pour l’enfant
dans les sociétés musulmanes, cf. Abdelwahab Bouhdiba, La Sexualité en islam, Paris,
Puf, 1975, chapitre XIII.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 104-105.
Ibid., pp. 113-115.
Ibid., pp. 134.
Sur le concept d’histoire intime et son utilisation, cf. Théodore Zeldin, Les Françaises
et l’histoire intime de l’humanité, Paris, Fayard, 1994 et en particulier chapitre I. En ce
qui concerne un autre aspect, plus sévère, des relations parents enfants, cf. infra.

92

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

Dans les anecdotes réunies par Ibn Zafar, les mères jouent un « rôle naturel » dans le soin des enfants – avec les éléments affectifs qui y sont liés –
mais aussi un rôle particulier de confidentes, grâce à leur intimité, des secrets de leurs jeunes fils, promis à un avenir de gloire et parfois même de
sainteté. Nous l’avons vu, dans les biographies classiques du Prophète Muhammad, qui inspirèrent le premier chapitre de Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, la
mère, Āmina, fait office de « vecteur » pour des renseignements sur les
signes annonciateurs de l’avenir de son fils, signes apparus lors de la grossesse et de la naissance, et qui parviennent, par l’intermédiaire de la mère,
également à la connaissance du grand-père, devenu, après la mort du père
de Muhammad, son protecteur. Par la suite, ce type d’indices est fourni par
96
Halīma, nourrice du Prophète (cf. supra) . Un écho de ce rôle dévolu à la
mère de la personne importante apparaît aussi dans le récit de Salmā bint Sakhr, mère d’Abū Bakr (le premier calife), avec une voix entendue par elle
lors des premières douleurs de l’accouchement, et lui révélant l’avenir de
97
son fils . Il en va de même dans le récit évoqué plus haut, sur Fātima bint
Asad, confidente du secret de son fils ‘Alī b. Abī Tālib, qui ne peut consommer que des aliments servis dans la demeure du Prophète. Lorsque l’enfant
recrache ce qu’on lui met dans la bouche, son père le passe à sa mère pour
que celle-ci en éclaircisse la raison. La mère se comporte tendrement avec
‘Alī et le calme, et lorsqu’elle lui promet de garder secrète sa tendance natu98
relle à préférer la nourriture du Prophète, il partage avec elle son secret .
Rien d’étonnant donc que, dans les récits sur Hind bint ‘Utba b. Rabī‘a, elle
aussi se voit annoncer l’avenir radieux de son fils, Mu‘āwiya – qui allait fon99
der la dynastie omeyyade et devenir l’adversaire acharné de ‘Alī . De
même, Asmā’ bint Abī Bakr, en entendant le Prophète lui annoncer l’avenir
glorieux de son fils, ‘Abd Allāh b. al-Zubayr (cf. supra), cesse de l’allaiter ;
son lait a tari, peut-être de terreur, et le Prophète l’encourage à continuer de
100
le nourrir, fût-ce de ses larmes . On raconte à propos de Nabīla (de son vrai
nom : Nutayla bint Khabbāb) al-Namiriyya qu’elle voulut délibérément découvrir l’avenir de son jeune fils, ‘Abbās (oncle du Prophète), et l’emmena
101
dans ce but chez ‘Abd al-Muttalib, pour qu’il le lui révèle . En fin de
96
97
98
99
100
101

Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 8-9, 18, 20.
Ibid., p. 43.
Ibid., pp. 49-50.
Ibid., pp. 62-63.
Ibid., p. 85.
Ibid., p. 51.

93

AVNER GILADI

compte, en écho du rôle maternel dans la formation du caractère des mys 102
tiques musulmans , figure le récit de la mère de Dā’ūd al-Tā’ī, qui prend
conscience la première de la spécificité de son fils (mort en 781 ou 782),
103
même si elle n’en saisit pas vraiment la signification (cf. infra) . Excepté la
description de la méchante mère de ‘Amr b. al-‘Ās, qui le frappe – et lui,
dans sa haute intelligence, fait en sorte que son propre père la frappe en re104
tour – les mères apparaissent généralement comme remplissant leur rôle
avec dévouement et sensibilité.
On s’en souvient, Fātima, la fille du Prophète, soucieuse de ses jeunes
enfants, demande à son père, « l’homme saint », de répandre sur eux ses
105
qualités . Lorsqu’ils disparaissent, elle se tourne derechef vers lui, boule106
versée, en lui demandant de l’aider . L’image caractéristique d’une mère,
berçant son jeune fils, lui récitant un poème, figure dans les récits d’enfance
107
de ‘Abd Allāh b. al-‘Abbās et de ‘Abd Allāh b. al-Zubayr .
108
La mère d’Abū Bakr l’allaite durant quatre années entières . Pour le sevrer, elle est donc forcée d’employer des moyens extrêmes : elle enduit ses
mamelons d’un produit repoussant. L’enfant la supplie d’enlever ce produit,
mais, dans une manifestation surprenante de maturité, il lui déclare que si
elle veut lui refuser son lait, il est prêt au sevrage sans l’emploi de ces
moyens extrêmes. Ces paroles émeuvent la mère au plus haut point. Elle « le
109
serre sur son cœur, l’embrasse et le prend dans ses bras » .
Les nurses et nourrices, qui constituèrent jusqu’aux temps modernes un
succédané relativement sûr à l’allaitement maternel, ne sont pas absentes
des récits d’enfance réunis par Ibn Zafar. En évoquant l’histoire du roi sassanide Bahrām Gōr, Ibn Zafar comble de louanges les femmes sages et culti110
vées parmi lesquelles le roi a vécu dans son enfance .
Quant aux qualités que les médecins et les ‘ulamā’ exigeaient des nourrices, adoptant ainsi un point de vue selon lequel le lait ne nourrit pas seulement le corps mais forme également le caractère, elles sont évoquées dans le
102
103
104
105
106
107
108

Cf. R. Roded, Women in Islamic Biographical Collections, p. 100 et note 65.
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 160-161.
Ibid., p. 77.
Ibid., p. 58.
Ibid., p. 57.
Ibid., p. 79, 85.
On dit également du prince sassanide Bahrām Gōr (cf. infra), que ses nourrices le
sevrèrent à l’âge de quatre ans, ibid., p. 182.
109 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 43-44. Cf. également Giladi, Infants, Parents and Wet
Nurses, pp. 62-67.
110 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 183.

94

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

récit du choix des nourrices de Bahrām Gōr, selon les critères suivants : race
111
pure, peau claire, responsabilité, obéissance, intelligence vive . Le profond
dévouement de Halīma, la fameuse nourrice du prophète Muhammad, est
couvert de louanges et lui vaut l’appellation de « mère » (ummī wa- hiya
zi’rī). Ce surnom fait allusion non seulement aux liens spirituels tissés, dans
le meilleur des cas, entre nourrices et nourrissons, mais également à l’in jonction légale de la sharī‘a, basée sur le Coran et sur la Sunna, selon laquelle pour tout ce qui concerne l’interdiction des mariages, une nourrice
112
étrangère sera considérée comme la mère du nourrisson .
Dans les récits d’Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, le personnage de la mère symbolise les relations prévalant dans « le royaume des mères » : un cercle intérieur de famille patrilinéaire et patriarcale, où – dans le souci de préserver
l’avenir proche et lointain – une collaboration intime se développe entre
mères et fils. Cette collaboration peut s’instaurer non seulement à la faveur
de l’instinct et des sentiments maternels, mais également dans un souci de
protection que la loi musulmane offre à la mère et à l’enfant – par exemple,
le droit d’allaiter (radā‘) et de garder les enfants (hadāna), octroyé à la mère
pour une période relativement longue aussi bien que l’interdiction de sépa113
rer de force la mère de ses enfants .

Éducation des enfants
Les récits d’Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ éclairent des aspects de l’éducation élémentaire dans les terres d’Islam au Moyen Âge – éducation privée pour les
fils de nobles et éducation traditionnelle et populaire du kuttāb (ou maktab)
– sous un angle personnel et humain, que des écrits théoriques (pédagogiques, éthiques, juridiques) sur ce sujet n’abordent pas, de par leur nature
même.
A travers ces anecdotes, c’est surtout le personnage négatif de l’enseignant – éducateur des enfants qui apparaît : brutal, ignare et corrompu. Un
dialogue entre un enseignant et son jeune élève, al-Hārith al-Muhāsibī (mort
111 Ibid., p. 181-182. Cf. également Giladi, ibid., pp. 106-114.
112 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 23. Cf. pp. 21-22, 24-31, 34-38, 68 ; Mohammed Hocine
Benkheira, « Donner le sein, c’est comme donner le jour : La doctrine de l’allaitement dans le sunnisme médiéval », Studia Islamica, 92, 2001, pp. 5-52 ; Giladi, ibid.,
p. 89.
113 Bouhdiba, La Sexualité en islam, chapitre XIII ; id. « The Child and the Mother in Arab-Muslim Society », in Carl L. Brown and Norman Itzkowitz, éd., Psychological Dimensions of near Eastern Studies, Princeton, Darwin Press, 1977, pp. 126-140 ; Giladi,
Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses, pp. 101-106, 117.

95

AVNER GILADI
114

en 857) – appelé à devenir un célèbre mystique de Bagdad et le père de la
115
théorie soufie de l’âme – vise à souligner, par contraste, la corruption de
l’enseignant face à la pureté de cœur et la piété de l’enfant. Lorsque al- Hārith, étudiant au kuttāb, vient en aide à une femme – sans doute analphabète
– en écrivant pour elle une lettre, l’enseignant demande pourquoi l’enfant a
rendu l’argent qu’il a reçu pour cela, ou, à tout le moins, pourquoi il ne l’a
pas remis entre ses mains à lui. L’enfant, qui voit dans son acte l’accomplissement d’un commandement, lui réplique en citant des versets appropriés
116
du Coran .
L’emploi très répandu des châtiments corporels est caractéristique des
méthodes éducatives traditionnelles. Dans la culture islamique, elle prend sa
source dans l’importance accordée aux contenus de l’enseignement, et en
particulier du Coran. La sainteté et le pouvoir magique de ce texte aux yeux
des musulmans, les poussaient à faire entamer cet enseignement aux enfants
dès que ceux-ci étaient parvenus à l’âge de raison, de distinction entre le
bien et le mal (tamyīz) : à l’âge de six-sept ans, selon la théorie pédagogique
islamique (cf. infra). Les dons intellectuels, les penchants et besoins des enfants, certes pris également en compte, sont néanmoins considérés comme
117
secondaires par rapport à l’objectif religieux de l’éducation . Dans le récit
de Sariyy al-Saqatī (mort vers 867), l’un des plus anciens soufis et le premier
118
à traiter des « états mystiques » (ahwāl) , on trouve une description de la
brutalité de l’enseignant lorsque son manque de connaissances est révélé
par son jeune élève. D’un côté, nous sommes en présence d’un motif hagiographique de renversement des rôles : un enfant doté d’une grande puissance spirituelle fait la morale et éduque celui qui était censé l’éduquer.
L’enseignant, n’ayant pas réussi à comprendre le Coran et n’étant pas en
mesure de répondre aux questions de l’enfant, se réfugie dans la force brutale et frappe ce dernier. Lorsque l’élève lui prouve qu’aux péchés d’escroquerie et d’ignorance, il ajoute ceux d’injustice et de violence, le professeur
114 Sur le jeune âge des élèves entrant au kuttāb, cf. ce qui est dit de Dā’ūd al-Tā’ī. Son
père le remit aux mains d’un enseignant à l’âge de cinq ans. Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’,
p. 160.
115 Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam, Chapel Hill, The University of
North Carolina Press, 1975, p. 54.
116 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 149-150.
117 Avner Giladi, « Individualism and Conformity in Medieval Islamic Educational
Thought : Some Notes with Special Reference to Elementary Education », AlQantara, XXVI, 2005, pp. 99-121, en particulier pp. 108-113.
118 A. Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions, pp. 53-54.

96

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

plein de repentir décide de cesser d’enseigner et de se tourner vers les
connaissances religieuses (talab al-‘ilm). D’un autre côté, on découvre ici
sans doute l’une des motivations psychologiques existant en réalité derrière
l’emploi répandu de la violence : la frustration d’enseignants peu doués, af119
frontant des enfants qui les dépassent en intelligence .
120
Le père d’Ahmad al-Nūrī (mort en 907), soufi de Bagdad , utilise la
force dans l’éducation de son jeune fils, non pas pour le pousser à étudier
mais au contraire, pour l’en empêcher afin de le faire travailler dans sa boutique. Le jeune Ahmad trouve des moyens détournés pour acquérir des
connaissances et s’isoler. En fin de compte, de nouveau, les rôles se renversent, et il enseigne à son père la nature du service de Dieu. Devenu
adulte, la prédiction de son enfance se réalise : après avoir hérité de la boutique paternelle, il se consacre entièrement au service de Dieu et abandonne
121
le commerce .
L’emploi de châtiments corporels est également habituel dans l’éducation privée, au point que son absence soulève de l’étonnement. Lorsque
l’omeyyade Yazīd b. Mu‘āwiya répond négativement à la question de son
père qui lui demande « est-ce que ton maître te bat ? », le père-calife
cherche à savoir pourquoi. C’est une occasion pour l’enfant de prouver son
intelligence tout en louangeant son père. Il lui répond en effet : « c’est parce
122
qu’il [le maître] suit les voies justes du calife » . Par contre, le maître du
prince al-Ma’mūn, qui allait devenir calife abbasside (de 813 à 833), use des
châtiments corporels. Lorsque son élève tarde à se présenter au cours,
ignore ses appels et continue de jouer, l’enseignant, Abū Muhammad alYazīdī, lui donne de grands coups de fouet, sans doute sur son corps nu, car
immédiatement après l’enfant est décrit comme ramassant ses habits en
pleurant. Le récit est amené ici dans le but de prodiguer des louanges à l’enfant et d’indiquer ses vertus exceptionnelles – dignité et endurance – qui se
révéleront davantage à l’âge adulte. En effet, Ja‘far b. Yahyā al-Barmakī,
gouverneur de Bagdad au nom d’Hārūn al-Rashīd, père d’al-Ma’mūn, entre
alors, mais à sa grande surprise, l’enfant ne profite pas de cette occasion

119 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 146-147. Un brillant dialogue entre le prince-poète Ibn alMu‘tazz et son maître, décrivant une situation où un jeune enfant surpasse l’enseignant, est cité ibid., pp. 117-118.
120 Annemarie Schimmel, « al-Nūrī », Enc. Islam 2, VIII, pp. 141-142.
121 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 156-157.
122 Ibid., p. 105.

97

AVNER GILADI
123

pour se plaindre de son maître . Pourtant, la description de l’emploi cruel
de châtiments corporels semble tirée de la réalité.
Nous l’avons vu, vers six-sept ans, l’enfant est considéré comme apte à
discerner entre le bien et le mal, et capable, au plan intellectuel, d’entamer
des études et de participer au culte : idhā balagha awlādukum saba‘ sinnīna
fa-murūhum bi l-salāt, selon les paroles attribuées au Prophète dans un ha124
dith célèbre . L’apparition de ces capacités avant cet âge est considérée
comme remarquable. Quoi qu’il en soit, le récit d’enfance du prince sassa125
nide Bahrām Gōr en témoigne . Lorsque l’enfant arrive à l’âge de cinq ans,
une année seulement après son sevrage, Bahrām exige de son protecteur
chez lequel il a grandi, al-Nu‘mān b. Mundhir b. Imrū’ l-Qays b. ‘Adī alLahmī, de lui procurer un maître. Son protecteur trouve par contre Bahrām
trop jeune pour pouvoir entamer des études. Mais l’enfant se targue de ses
capacités intellectuelles, déjà développées malgré son jeune âge, et il se
moque de son protecteur dont la situation est inverse : en dépit de son âge,
126
son esprit est faible . Derechef, entre les lignes d’une légende qui vise à repérer a posteriori les signes de gloire chez le jeune prince, on peut entrevoir
un point de vue répandu quant à l’âge du début des études, et l’enfant qui se
montre plus précoce que la norme est considéré comme exceptionnel.
Dans le récit du soufi de Bagdad, Dā’ūd al-Tā’ī (cf. supra), par contre, un
début d’étude à l’âge de cinq ans semble tout naturel, en raison des dons
particuliers de l’enfant. Quant à ses penchants mystiques, ils se révèlent immédiatement et renforcent la décision de son père de l’envoyer étudier à un
si jeune âge. De même, l’omeyyade Yazīd b. Mu‘āwiya se révèle un élève
doué et persévérant. A sept ans, il répond avec succès aux questions de son
127
père, le calife, qui vérifie ses progrès dans la récitation du Coran .
Une scène d’études dans le palais d’Hārūn al-Rashīd à Bagdad au VIIIe
siècle éclaire certains aspects touchant les rapports maître-élève, le contenu
des études et les méthodes employées. Le maître, le linguiste Ibn Hamza alKisā’ī, qui avait été le précepteur d’Hārūn al-Rashīd et qui avait été chargé
123 Ibid., pp. 110-111. Sur les châtiments corporels pour négligence et erreurs d’écriture,
cf. ibid., p. 118 (sur ‘Abd Allāh, fils du calife abbasside al-Mu‘tazz bi-llāh).
124 Cf., par exemple, Ibn Abī l-Dunyā, Kitāb al-‘iyāl, p. 219, ainsi que des traditions
semblables, pp. 219-233. Dans la littérature juridico-pédagogique, on évoque la possibilité que le tamyīz apparaisse plus tôt (Giladi, « Individualism and Conformity »,
p. 107).
125 « Bahrām V Gōr », Enc. Iranica, III, pp. 518-519.
126 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 181-182.
127 Ibid., p. 104.

98

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT
128

de l’éducation des fils al-Amīn et al-Ma’mūn est assis, les yeux baissés.
129
L’un de ses élèves lit le texte du Coran . Le maître ne se répand pas en paroles ni en explication et se contente de lever les yeux ou de fouetter la terre
d’une branchette d’arbre lorsque l’élève se trompe dans sa lecture. Parfois
l’enfant se corrige et poursuit sa lecture. Lorsqu’il n’y arrive pas, il jette un
regard sur le texte, s’y raccroche et continue par cœur. Parfois, le maître utilise des regards sévères, sans doute pour souligner l’importance du verset en
question. Ainsi, lorsque al-Ma’mūn arrive un jour au second verset de la
sourate al-Saff (« Le Rang »), où figure une importance leçon morale : « Ô
130
vous les croyants ! Pourquoi dites-vous ce que vous ne faites pas ? » et
qu’il le récite sans faute, son maître lève néanmoins les yeux. L’élève effrayé
se tourne vers le texte, et constatant à son grand soulagement qu’il ne s’est
131
pas trompé, il poursuit sa récitation .

Jeux d’enfants
De façon fort naturelle, les jeux figurent plus d’une fois dans les récits d’enfance d’Ibn Zafar, et d’autres sources islamiques anciennes les évoquent à de
nombreuses reprises. Des écrits éthiques, pédagogiques et médicaux traitent
132
eux aussi de la signification psychologique et pédagogique des jeux , mais
133
Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’ n’apportent pas de grandes lumières sur ce sujet .
Au domaine de la civilisation islamique, le jeu est considéré comme
l’une des caractéristiques fondamentales de l’enfance. Presque à chaque évo134
cation d’une activité enfantine, le mot « jeu » est employé . Le Prophète
128 Al-Ziriklī, al-A‘lām, IV, 283.
129 Al-qirā’a ‘alayhi – lecture de l’élève devant son maître dans le livre du maître ou par
cœur – était fort répandue, surtout à partir du X e siècle, à tous les stades de l’éducation et dans toutes les disciplines, cf. Ahmad, Muslim Education, pp. 93-97. Sur l’emploi de cette méthode dans le kuttāb, cf. Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 146.
130 Le Coran, trad. de D. Masson, II, p. 691.
131 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 112-113.
132 Rosenthal, « Child Psychology in Islam », pp. 3-4 ; Motzki, « Das Kind und seine
Sozialisation », pp. 429, 438 ; Giladi, « Individualism and Conformity », pp. 113-114.
Pour une description de 120 jeux d’enfants d’après des sources arabes anciennes, cf.
Ahmad Taymūr, La‘b al-‘arab, Le Caire, Dār Nahdat Misr, 1981. Les petites enfances
caractérisées par des activités ludiques figurent également dans la littérature autobiographique arabe. Cf. D. Reynolds, « Childhood in One Thousand Years », pp. 381383.
133 Excepté, peut-être, pour la distinction apparaissant dans l’un des récits de Anbā’
nujabā’ al-abnā’ (p. 98), et touchant à l’esprit du jeu, opposé aux tensions et à la
colère : fa-ka-’anna Abā l-‘Abbās qāla li-akhīhi hīna da‘āhu ilā l-la‘b : hal shafayta
ghayzaka (ou: shufiyat ghayzuka) … hattā nal‘aba ?
134 Rosenthal, ibid., p. 3.

99

AVNER GILADI

Muhammad lui-même est décrit comme un enfant ayant l’habitude de jouer
135
avec d’autres enfants, comme il a été dit plus haut . En outre, Ibn Zafar
rapporte une tradition évoquant explicitement l’un des jeux auxquels participa le Prophète dans son enfance : ‘azm wadāh (« os clair »), un jeu que les
enfants jouent dans le noir : ils jettent au loin un os brillant et cherchent à le
136
retrouver . Ce jeu est évoqué non seulement dans la littérature de hadith à
propos de Muhammad enfant, mais également dans la littérature d’adab et
137
dans les dictionnaires arabes tout au long du Moyen Âge . On peut y voir
un exemple de permanence des jeux d’enfants, à moins qu’il ne s’agisse là
d’une copie d’une source à l’autre, sans rapport avec la réalité.
Un exemple de l’observation intuitive du jeu comme signe évident de
normalité de l’enfant se trouve dans la description de l’enfance de Dā’ūd alTā’ī (cf. plus haut). On raconte qu’en apprenant par cœur la sourate al-Insān
(« L’Homme »), qui souligne la distinction entre les croyants et les mécréants, et annonce aux musulmans ce qui les attend dans l’au-delà, le comportement de l’enfant se modifia. Il semble que les versets 25-26, enseignant
comment se comporter en ce bas monde – « Invoque le Nom de ton Seigneur à l’aube et au crépuscule. Prosterne-toi, la nuit devant lui. Célèbre
138
longuement ses louanges, durant la nuit » – aient exercé sur lui une telle
influence qu’il se mit à s’isoler et à s’interroger. Sa mère, craignant que son
esprit ne soit touché, l’adjure : qum yā Dā’ūd fa- l‘ab ma‘a l-sibyān (« Lèvetoi, Dā’ūd, joue avec les enfants »). Mais l’enfant s’obstine. À la question maternelle : « Où as-tu donc l’esprit ? » il réplique : « Avec les serviteurs de Dieu », et lui décrit leur situation au Paradis, en citant les versets
appropriés de la sourate en question, d’une façon qui témoigne du fait qu’il
139
a totalement assimilé le sens du texte .
On raconte par contre à propos d’al-Hārith al-Muhāsibī, mystique non
moins célèbre (cf. supra), qu’il s’intéressait aux jeux. Un récit dans lequel,
enfant, il fit la morale à un marchand de dattes s’ouvre sur une scène où il
s’arrête pour observer des enfants jouant en face de la maison du négo 140
ciant .
135 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 18. Mais, nous l’avons vu, le Prophète est également décrit
comme fuyant la société d’autres enfants jouant.
136 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 24. Des descriptions d’autres jeux enfantins se trouvent
pp. 52, 96, 98, 110.
137 Taymūr, La‘b al-‘arab, pp. 55-56.
138 Le Coran, trad. de D. Masson, II, p. 733.
139 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 160-161.
140 Ibid., p. 148

100

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

La conception de l’enfant comme l’évident Homo ludens (homme ludi141
que) se reflète dans d’autres aspects du texte qui nous concerne. Par
exemple, Makhlad b. Yazīd b. al-Muhallab (mort en 718, après avoir servi
comme gouverneur de Khurāsān), fut placé dès l’âge de 12 ans par les Banū
Azd à leur tête. On remarque avec admiration qu’il se tourne vers des affaires politiques importantes, contrairement aux jeunes de son âge « qui
142
n’ont que jeux en tête » .
Le seul indice d’un emploi délibéré de jeux d’enfants dans un but péda143
gogique se trouve dans la description du vizir abbasside Yahyā al-Barmakī, qui teste les dons et le comportement de ses fils, Ja‘far et al-Fa dl, en
leur demandant de jouer devant lui aux échecs. De nombreuses caractéris tiques enfantines se révèlent dans leurs réactions respectives à cette de mande paternelle : Ja‘far accepte avec légèreté et une assurance exagérée,
tandis que al-Fadl, le plus intelligent des deux, connaît sa propre supériorité,
144
craint d’humilier son frère et s’abstient donc de jouer . Pour justifier son
envie pressante de jouer, Ja‘far cite son père qui reconnaît que le jeu permet
d’équilibrer l’effort investi dans les études, tout comme les penseurs musulmans qui, influencés par la littérature éthique et pédagogique grecque, re145
commandèrent un temps de jeu et d’activité physique pour les enfants .
L’approche ambivalente des adultes envers les enfants s’exprime également dans leurs rapports aux jeux. Dans deux scènes de la vie de ‘Abd Allāh
b. al-Zubayr transparaît une certaine tension entre la gravité adulte et la lé gèreté enfantine. Lorsque entrent les personnages pleins d’autorité de ‘Umar
b. al-Khattāb ou de l’un des dignitaires des Ansār (les habitants arabes de
Médine qui se sont ralliés à Muhammad après l’hégire), irrités, la bande
d’enfants jouant s’enfuit, et seul le petit ‘Abd Allāh reste et ose même répondre aux questions. Il est donc tout naturel qu’il exige de ses petits cama146
rades que ces derniers le désignent comme leur roi . La conception selon
laquelle le jeu, comme occupation enfantine, doit être limité et qu’on est en
droit d’exiger le sérieux de la part d’enfants de plus de dix ans, est introduite
dans Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, par la mère de Ja‘far et al-Fadl, cité comme disant : kunnā nanhī l-sabiyy idhā balagha al-‘ashr wa-hadara man yastahyī
141 Johan Huizinga, Homo ludens : essai sur la fonction sociale du jeu, Paris, Gallimard,
1988.
142 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 126. Voir aussi al-Ziriklī, al-A‘lām, VII, p. 194.
143 Giladi, « Individualism and Conformity », p. 114.
144 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, pp. 134-135.
145 Cf., par exemple, al-Ghazālī, Ihyā’, III, p. 94.
146 Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, p. 87.

101

AVNER GILADI

minhu an yabtasima (« Nous interdisions à un enfant arrivé à l’âge de dix
ans de sourire en présence d’une personne dont il avait honte, [c’est-à-dire
147
un étranger] » .
En conclusion, Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, cet ouvrage exceptionnel mais trop
négligé d’Ibn Zafar, datant du XIIe siècle, s’ajoute à la longue liste des divers
traités arabo-islamiques médiévaux consacrés, en totalité ou en partie, aux
enfants et à l’enfance. Comme dans d’autres cas, cette compilation est pour
l’essentiel un recueil de textes tirés de sources précédents. Mais le choix
des matériaux, la rédaction, et l’impression qui se dégage de la quantité des
textes réunis, servent les objectifs – distrayants et didactiques – de l’auteur,
et révèlent indirectement la conception qui le guide quant aux rapports
entre enfance et âge adulte.
Au-delà de l’aspect didactique des textes biographiques – hagiographiques, pointent des détails de la vie quotidienne : rapports entre parents
(et adultes en général) et enfants, éducation primaire et jeux d’enfants, ainsi
que certains aspects « mentaux » : conceptions et points de vue sur les enfants et sur l’enfance répandus parmi les couches populaires musulmanes
dans le bassin oriental de la Méditerranée aux premiers siècles de l’Islam.
Par rapport aux textes théoriques traitant de la question de l’enfance du
point de vue intellectuel – juridique, éthique, pédagogique ou médical –,
c’est là que réside la valeur spécifique d’Anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’.

Bibliographie
Sources primaires
al-Bayhaqī, Ahmad b. al-Husayn, Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, Beyrouth, Dār al-Kutub
al-‘Ilmiyya, 1985.
Id., Dalā’il al-nubuwwa, Médine, al-Maktaba al-Salafiyya, 1969.
al-Ghazālī, Abū Hāmid Muhammad, Ihyā’ ‘ulūm al-dīn, Le Caire, Mu’assasat alHalabī, 1967.
Ibn Hishām, Muhammad ‘Abd al-Malik, Sīrat rasūl allāh, édité par Ferdinand
Wüstenfeld, Göttingen, Dieterichs, 1858-60.
Ibn al-Jawzī, ‘Abd al-Rahmān b. ‘Alῑ, Sifat al-safwa, édition Mahmūd Fākhūrī,
Alep, 1970.
Ibn al-Jazzār al-Qayrawānī, Siyāsat al-sibyān wa-tadbīruhum, édité par
Muhammad b. Habīb al-Hīla, Tūnis, al-Dār al-Tūnisiyya, 1968.

147 Ibid., p. 136.

102

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, Abū Bakr Muhammad, Tuhfat al-mawdūd bi-ahkām almawlūd, Bombay, Sharafuddin, 1380/1961.
Ibn Sa‘d, Abū ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad, Kitāb al-Tabaqāt al-kubrā, Beyrouth,
1957.
Ibn Zafar, Abū ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad al-Siqillī, Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’,
édité par Mustafā al-Qabbānī, Le Caire, 1322/1904.
Id., Kitāb anbā’ nujabā’ al-abnā’, édité par Ibrāhīm Yūnus, Le Caire, Dār alSahwa, s.d.
Id., al-Sulwānāt, sulwān al-mutā‘ fī ‘udwān al-atbā‘, édité par Ayman ‘Abd alJābir al-Buhayrī, Le Caire, al-Āfāq al-‘Arabiyya, 1999.
al-Isfahānī, Abū Nu‘aym Kitāb dalā’il al-nubuwwa, Haydarabad, Majlis Dā’irat
al-Ma‘ārif, 1977.
al-Kharkūshī, Muhammad b. Ibrāhīm, Sharaf al-mustafā, Beyrouth, Dār alBashā’ir al-Islāmiyya, 2003.
al-Qushayrī, Abū al-Qāsim, al-Risāla ’l-qushayriyya, Beyrouth, Dār al-Kutub,
1998.
al-Tabarī, Muhammad b. Jarīr, Ta’rīkh al-rusul wa l-mulūk, édité par Michael J.
de Goeje, Leyde, Brill, 1964.
al-Tha’ālibī, ‘Abd al-Malik b. Muhammad, Ta’rīkh ghurar al-siyar, édité par
Hermann Zotenberg, Téhéran, 1963.

Études
Abrahamse, Dorothy, « Images of Childhood in Early Byzantine Hagiography »,
The Journal of Psychohistory, 6, 1978, pp. 497-517.
Ahmad, Munir ud-Din, Muslim Education and the Scholar’s Social Status up to
the 5th Century Muslim Era in the Light of Ta’rikh Baghdad, Zurich, Der
Islam, 1968.
Arié, Rachel, Miniatures hispano-musulmanes : Recherches sur un manuscrit
arabe illustré de l’Escorial, Leyde, Brill, 1969.
Benkheira, Mohammed Hocine, « Donner le sein, c’est comme donner le jour :
la doctrine de l’allaitement dans le sunnisme médiéval », Studia Islamica,
92, 2001, pp. 5-52.
Benkheira, Mohammed Hocine, Avner Giladi, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen et
Jacqueline Sublet, La Famille en islam d’après les sources arabes, Paris, Les
Indes Savantes, 2013.
Bosworth, C. Edmund, « Ibn Zafar al-Siqillī », Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature,
I, p. 383.
Bouhdiba, Abdelwahab, La Sexualité en islam, Paris, Puf, 1975.
Id., « The Child and the Mother in Arab-Muslim Society », in Carl L. Brown and
Norman Itzkowitz, éd., Psychological Dimensions of Near Eastern Studies,
Princeton, Darwin Press, 1977, pp. 126-140.

103

AVNER GILADI

Busse, Heribert, « Fürstenspiegel und Fürstenethik im Islam », Bustan, Vienne,
1986, pp. 12-19.
Chaumont, Éric, « Yatīm », Enc. Islam 2, XI, pp. 324-325.
Dekmejian, R. Hrair et Thabit, Adel Fathy, « Machiavelli’s Arab precursor : Ibn
Zafar al-Siqillī », British Journal of Midde Eastern Studies, 27/2, 2000, pp.
125-137.
Eddé, Anne-Marie, « Un traité sur les enfants d’un auteur arabe du XIIème siècle »,
in Henri Dubois et Michel Zink, éd., Les âges de la vie au Moyen Âge : actes
du colloque du Département d’études médiévales de l’Université ParisSorbonne et de l’Université Friedrich-Wilhelm de Bonn, Provins, 16-17 mars,
1990, Paris, Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 1992, pp. 139-149.
Geries, Ibrahim, « al-Maḥāsin wa-‘l-Masāwi », Enc. Islam 2, V, pp. 1214-1217.
Ghazālī’s Book of Counsel for Kings (Nasīhat al-Mulūk), traduit par Frank R. C.
Bagley, Londres, Oxford University Press, 1964.
Gibb, Hamiton A.R., « Islamic Biographical Literature », in Bernard Lewis et
Peter M. Holt, éd., Historians of the Middle East, Oxford, Oxford University
Press, 1962.
Giladi, Avner, Children of Islam : Concepts of Childhood in Medieval Muslim
Society, Houndmills-Londres, Macmillan, 1992.
Id., « Children », Enc. Qur’ān, I, pp. 301-303.
Id., « Gender Differences in Child Rearing and Education : Some Preliminary
Observations with Reference to Medieval Muslim Thought », Al-Qantara,
XVI, 1995, pp. 291-308.
Id., « Individualism and Conformity in Medieval Islamic Educational Thought :
Some Notes with Special Reference to Elementary Education », AlQantara, XXVI, 2005, pp. 99-121.
Id., Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses: Medieval Muslim Views on Breastfeeding and
Their Social Implications, Leyde-Boston-Cologne, Brill, 1999.
Id., « Orphans », Enc. Qur’ān, III, pp. 603-604.
Id., « Ṣaghīr », Enc. Islam 2, VIII, pp. 849-856.
Gril, Denis, « Le Corps du Prophète », in Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen et Bernard
Heyberger, éd., Le Corps et le sacré en Orient musulman, Revue des Mondes
musulmans et de la Méditerranée, 113-114, 2006, pp. 37-57.
Holmes Katz, Marion, The Birth of the Prophet Muhammad : Devotional Piety in
Sunni Islam, Londres-New York, Routledge, 2007.
Huizinga, Johan, Homo ludens : essai sur la fonction sociale du jeu, Paris,
Gallimard, 1988.
Lutfi, Huda, « Al-Sakhāwī’s Kitāb al-nisā’ as a Source for the Social and Economic History of the Muslim Women During the fifteenth Century AD »,
The Muslim World, 71, 1981, pp. 101-124.
Marlow, Louise, « Advice and advice littérature », Enc. Islam 3, édition en ligne.

104

LES ENFANTS QU’ILS ÉTAIENT

Mojaddedi, Jawid A., The Biographical Tradition in Sufism : The ṭabaqāt genre
from al-Sulamῑ to Jāmῑ, Richmond (Surrey), Curzon, 2001.
Motzki, Harald, « Das Kind und seine Sozialisation in der islamischen Familie
des Mittelalters », in Jochen Martin et August Nitschke, éd., Zur
Sozialgeschichte der Kindheit, Fribourg-Munich, K. Alber, 1986, pp. 417-421.
Reynolds, Dwight F., « Childhood in One Thousand Years of Arabic
Autobiography », Edebiyat, 7, 1997, pp. 379-392.
Id., Interpreting the Self : Autobiography in the Arabic Literary Tradition,
Berkeley, Los Angeles-Londres, University of California Press, 2001.
Rizzitano, Umberto, « Ibn Ẓafar », Enc. Islam 2, III, p. 970.
Roded, Ruth, Women in Islamic Biographical Collections : From Ibn Sa‘d to Who’s
Who, Boulder-Londres, Lynne Rienner, 1994.
Rosenthal, Franz, « Child Psychology in Islam », Islamic Culture, 26, 1952,
pp. 1-22.
Sartain, E. M., Jalāl al-Dῑn al-Suyūtῑ, I : « Biography and Background »,
Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1975.
Savage-Smith, Emilie, « The Exchange of Medical and Surgical Ideas between
Europe and Islam », in John A.C. Greppin, Emilie Savage-Smith et John L.
Gueriguian, éd., The Diffusion of Greco-Roman Medecine into the Middle
East and the Caucasus, Delmar, NY, Caravan Books, 1999.

105

The Prophet’s Family
as the Perennial Source of Saintly Scholars:
Al-Samhūdī on ʿilm and nasab *

Kazuo Morimoto

Introduction
In a recent article published in the Mamlūk Studies Review, Daniella TalmonHeller elucidated, on the basis of ample examples drawn from biographical
literature, how ʿulamāʾ per se (that is, as possessors of ʿilm or exoteric religious knowledge) could be perceived as endowed with divine blessing
(baraka), capacity of intercession (shafāʿa) and the power to work miracles
1
(karāmāt). The inappropriateness of a dichotomous approach to ʿulamāʾ
and Sufis – or rather Sufi saints – as religious authorities in medieval
Muslim societies has been pointed out repeatedly, often with the familiar
2
caveat that many ʿulamāʾ were at the same time Sufis. In addition, more
light has been shed in recent decades on the liminal aspects of the ʿulamāʾs
3
scholarly activities as well as the scholarly texts they specialized in. Talmon-Heller’s study, however, should be rightly valued as a pioneering study
that brings to light the sanctity attributed to ʿulamāʾ in their own right, and
suggests the possibility of approaching ʿulamāʾ as a category of saintly figures of their own.
Talmon-Heller’s study discusses, on one hand, how the theory of wilāya
*1

1
2

3

I would like to thank Professors Michael A. Cook and Yasushi Tonaga for their comments on this article. I would also like to thank Professors Stephen Humphreys, Tsugitaka Sato, Mohammad-Rezā Shafīʿī-Kadkanī and Takeshi Yukawa for their help at
different stages. The research for this study was made possible by the generous support of the Inamori Foundation and the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science.
Daniella Talmon-Heller, “ʿIlm, Shafāʿah, and Barakah: The Resources of Ayyubid
and Early-Mamluk Ulama,” Mamlūk Studies Review, 13/2, 2009, pp. 23-45.
For a recent challenge to such a dichotomous approach, see Denise Aigle, “Essai sur
les autorités religieuses de l’islam médieval oriental,” in id., ed., Les autorités religieuses entre charismes et hiérarchie: Approches comparatives, Turnhout, Brepols,
2011, pp. 17-40.
See, e.g., Christian Décobert, “L’institution du waqf, la baraka et la transmission du
savoir,” in Hasan Elboudrari, ed., Modes de transmission de la culture religieuse en
Islam, Cairo, Institut Franҫais d’Archéologie Orientale, 1993, pp. 25-40; Michael
Chamberlain, Knowledge and Social Practice in Medieval Damascus, 1190-1350, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994, pp. 108-151 (Ch. 4); Jonathan Brown, The
Canonization of al-Bukhārī and Muslim: The Formation and Function of the Sunnī
Ḥadīth Canon, Leiden-Boston, Brill, 2007, pp. 335-359 (Ch. 9).

106

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

(the status of walī Allāh, “friend of God”) – which, in her view, originated
from Sufism – became widely accepted by theologians by the tenth century
CE, and how the ability to work miracles formed an integral part of that
4
wilāya theory. Talmon-Heller’s work presents, on the other hand, ample
examples of “wonder working scholars” based on the evidence gathered
from biographical sources. However, her study does not address the question that links these two components: Did there exist, on a dogmatic level,
any argument to define ʿulamāʾ as awliyāʾ Allāh (pl. of walī Allāh)? It may
be right to deduce, as suggested by Talmon-Heller, that these “wonder
working scholars” were considered to be awliyāʾ on the basis of the very
5
fact that they were working miracles. It is also true that there exists a wellknown saying attributed to both Abū Hanīfa (d. 148 AH/767 CE) and alShāfiʿī (d. 201/820) which says, “If ʿulamāʾ are not awliyāʾ Allāh, God has no
walī.” However, we are none the less ignorant as to whether there existed
any substantive argument characterizing ʿulamāʾ as awliyāʾ Allāh among
contemporary or near-contemporary Muslim scholars. The first objective of
the present study lies squarely in presenting one such argument from the
late Mamluk period.
The argument discussed here is that of Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī b. ʿAbd Allāh alHasanī al-Samhūdī (844–911/1440–1506), the famous author of the histories
of Medina, as featured in his work Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn fī fadl al-sharafayn
[Jewels of the Two Necklaces on the Merits of the Two Kinds of Nobility]. As
we will see, al-Samhūdī presents in this work an argument which not only
characterizes ʿulamāʾ as awliyāʾ Allāh, but also fleshes out the characteristic
features of those ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ. However, that is not all that makes
Jawāhir worth special attention. As its title suggests, Jawāhir is a unique
work in that it discusses the two discrete topics of the merits of ʿilm and the
merits of nasab (lineage) of the Prophet’s family under a single title. This
unique feature allowed al-Samhūdī to develop an argument to claim that the
Prophet’s family is the source par excellence of ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ and that the
ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ from the Prophet’s family are the most meritorious of all the
ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ. Al-Samhūdī’s theory of ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ is thus closely connected to his theory on the role of the Prophet’s family in the Umma
4

5

For a study questioning the accepted attitude to regard Sufism as the sole origin of
the theory of wilāya, see Yasushi Tonaga, “Sufi Saints and Non-Sufi Saints in Early
Islamic History,” The Journal of Sophia Asian Studies, 22, 2004, pp. 1-13. This study
also presents other useful ideas as to the links between Sufism, walī (wilāya) theory,
and saint veneration.
D. Talmon-Heller, “ʿIlm, Shafāʿah, and Barakah,” p. 29. See also ibid., p. 33.

107

KAZUO MORIMOTO

(Muslim Community). The second objective of this study is, therefore, to
contribute to a better understanding of Muslim discourses concerning the
Prophet’s family by presenting this second component of al-Samhūdī’s ar6
guments.
This study is composed of three sections: 1) a review of al-Samhūdī’s career as well as a general outline of Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn; 2) a presentation of
al-Samhūdī’s argument for the status of ʿulamāʾ as awliyāʾ Allāh; 3) an examination of how al-Samhūdī introduces the affiliation to the Ahl al-bayt
(People of the Prophet’s House) as an unparalleled asset for attaining the
status of ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ.

The Author and the Work
Al-Samhūdī was born in 844/1440 in the town of Samhūd in Upper Egypt to
7
an ʿulamāʾ family of Hasanid descent. Educated in his hometown, as well as
in Cairo, he came to excel in such fields as jurisprudence (fiqh), hadith, and
history. Shāfiʿī in jurisprudence, he was also well-grounded in Sufism. It is
known that he received three khirqas (rough cloaks) from three different
masters as well as an instruction of Sufi dhikr (talqīn al-dhikr) from one of
8
them. Al-Samhūdī thus falls squarely into the category of “al-ʿālim al-sūfī”
6
7

8

For the necessity of studying the Prophet’s family and Muslim discourses about
them, see my “Toward the Formation of Sayyido-Sharifology: Questioning Accepted
Fact,” The Journal of Sophia Asian Studies, 22, 2004, pp. 87-103.
The most important primary sources for al-Samhūdī’s career are the biographical
notices found in Al-Dawʾ al-lāmiʿ and Al-Tuhfa al-latīfa by al-Sakhāwī (d. 902/1497),
who knew him personally (Al-Dawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols. in 6 pts.,
Cairo, Maktabat al-Qudsī, 1353-1355/1934-5-1936-7, V, pp. 245-248; id., Al-Tuhfa allatīfa fī taʾrīkh al-Madīna al-sharīfa, 2 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1414/
1993, II, pp. 280-285. See also Bader Adrees, “A Critical Edition of Al-Luʾluʾ alManthūr fī Naṣīḥat Wulāt al-Umūr by Nūr al-Dīn al-Samhūdī (d. 911H),” unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of Durham, 2007, pp. 15-44 (Ch. 1: Al-Samhūdī’s Biography); Mustafa Sabri Küҫükaşcı, “Semhûdî,” Turkiye Diyanet Vakfı İslam
Ansiklopedisi, Istanbul, Turkiye Diyanet Vakfı, XXXVI, 2009, pp. 489-491; C. Edmund
Bosworth, “Al-Samhūdī,” Enc. Islam 2, VIII, p. 1043. Unless otherwise noted, all the
information pertaining to al-Samhūdī’s career presented in the following paragraphs
is taken from al-Sakhāwī’s notices.
It does not appear, however, that he attained any significant fame as a Sufi. Al-Samhūdī appears only as a source of information in the notices of the two of his masters,
Sharaf al-Dīn al-Munāwī (d. 871/1467) and Ahmad al-Ibshītī (d. 883/1478), in Zayn
al-Dīn al-Munāwī (d. 1031/1621), Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya, ed. by M. A. al-Jādir, 5 vols. in 6
pts., Beirut, Dār Sādir, 1999, III, pp. 143, 295-296. As for the laxity with which the granting of khirqas and instruction of dhikr were handled in late Mamluk period, see Eric
Geoffroy, Le soufisme en Égypte et en Syrie sous les derniers Mamelouks et les premiers
Ottomans, Damascus, Institut Franҫais d’Études Arabes de Damas, 1995, pp. 195-198.

108

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

discussed by Eric Geoffroy as a prevalent type of mystic in his study of
9
Sufism in late Mamluk Egypt and Syria.
Following his first pilgrimage to Mecca, al-Samhūdī came to settle in
Medina in 873/1469, whence came al-Sakhāwī’s (d. 902/1497) characterization of him as “the shaykh of the people of Medina” (shaykh ahl al-Madīna).
His renown there as a scholar was such that al-Sakhāwī also noted that
there were few scholars in Medina who had not studied under him. Al-Samhūdī’s professional career was obviously a successful one both in Egypt and
in Medina. He occupied several teaching as well as administrative positions
at madrasas through his life; he was even offered the position of a deputy
10
qādī of Egypt once, which, however, he declined. Al-Samhūdī also enjoyed
connections with dignitaries of the state. Especially noteworthy is his connection with Sultan Qāytbāy (r. 872–901/1468–1496). Qāytbāy not only supported him financially but also heeded his advice, especially in relation to
11
the administration of affairs in Medina.
Al-Samhūdī died in 911/1506 in Medina leaving behind many scholarly
12
works, the famous histories of Medina among them. Although he had
many enemies both because of the envy of his peers and because of his re lentless attitude when disputing with them (at least this is how al-Sakhāwī
explains it), it is plausible to say that he was a well-established member of
13
the main-stream religious establishment of late Mamluk society.
Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn, the subject of the present study, was completed on 8
Rabīʿ II 897/8 February 1492, most certainly in Medina, with a professed ob jective to protest the prevailing neglect of ʿulamāʾ and the Ahl al-bayt (I, pp.
14
69-71/25-26). Commensurate with this objective, the work consists of two
parts (sing. qism).
The shorter first part, which is divided into three chapters (sing. bāb),
discusses the merits of ʿilm and those who possess it, namely the ʿulamāʾ
(vol. I [in 320 pp.]/pp. 29-189). Although al-Samhūdī does not clarify what
9 E. Geoffroy, Le soufisme en Égypte, pp. 149-156, 163-165.
10 It was his master al-Munāwī, with whom he also had marital tie (he married alMunāwī’s granddaughter), who offered him the deputyship. Al-Munāwī was the
(Shāfiʿī) qādī of “al-Diyār al-Misriyya” (Al-Sakhāwī, Al-Dawʾ, X, pp. 254-257).
11 B. Adrees, “A Critical Edition,” pp. 40-42.
12 Adrees lists twenty-six titles (B. Adrees, “A Critical Edition,” pp. 30-36).
13 It is also known that al-Samhūdī was engaged in trade. Al-Sakhāwī notes that alSamhūdī’s clientele may even have included the ruler (Sharīf) of Medina.
14 In references to the text of Jawāhir, page numbers of both the Baghdad and Beirut
editions will be given, before and after slash marks, respectively (see below for the
two editions).

109

KAZUO MORIMOTO

he means by “ʿilm,” it is clear that jurisprudence occupies a central place and
15
that the discipline of hadith also weighs heavily in it. Thus, al-Samhūdī’s
usage of the term “ʿulamāʾ” is not idiosyncratic: they are the scholars of
Sharīʿa-related disciplines.
In broad terms, al-Samhūdī’s arguments in Part One develop as follows:
In Chapter One, he begins by establishing the special status of ʿulamāʾ (I, pp.
77-184/29-87). Then, in Chapter Two (I, pp. 185-250/88-118), he turns his attention to the question of the enmity against ʿulamāʾ which, he claims, was
most prevalent in his time. He also discusses in the same chapter how
ʿulamāʾ should cope with such enmity and hatred. And finally, in Chapter
Three (I, pp. 251-388/119-173), he presents a practical manual for ʿulamāʾ
16
and their students (sing. mutaʿallim, ākhidh).
The longer second part, divided into fifteen chapters (sing. dhikr), deals
with the merits of the nasab of the Ahl al-bayt (vol. II [in 2 pts., 481 pp.]/pp.
190-476). The Ahl al-bayt for al-Samhūdī include, besides the Prophet himself, the Ahl bayt al-suknā (the Ahl al-bayt in terms of residence), that is,
Muhammad’s wives, and the Ahl bayt al-nasab (the Ahl al-bayt in terms of
blood relation) (II, pp. 16/198). As for the range of the Ahl bayt al-nasab, alSamhūdī’s opinion is that the concept covers the Muslims among the
Hāshimids and the Muttalibids (descendants of Hāshim’s brother Muttalib)
17
(II, p. 39/211), a predictable stance from a Shāfiʿī scholar. It should, however, be noted that the centrality among the Ahl bayt al-nasab of the direct
descendants of the Prophet through Fātima, that is, the Hasanids and the
Husaynids, is taken for granted, as demonstrated by al-Samhūdī’s treatment
18
of different merits specific to those two lines in his discussion.
15 See, e.g., the hadiths cited at I, pp. 88-89/36-37 where “faqīh” (jurist) is used to substitute “ʿālim,” and “fiqh” and “hadīth” are mentioned as the ʿulamāʾs business. See
also the manual for ʿulamāʾ and students presented in Chapter Three of Part One,
where it is obviously the education of jurists that is envisaged (see especially I, pp.
359-361, 363-364/174-175, 176, where the discipline of hadith is treated merely as an
auxiliary discipline of jurisprudence).
16 As al-Samhūdī himself acknowledges (I, p. 251/119), the text of this chapter is based
mainly on Badr al-Dīn Ibn Jamāʿa’s (d. 733/1333) Tadhkirat al-sāmiʿ wa-l-mutakallim
fī adab al-ʿālim wa-l-mutaʿallim.
17 Al-Samhūdī actually cites al-Shāfiʿī’s view (II, pp. 37-38/209-210). For the endeavors
made by the Shāfiʿīs to include their Muttalibī eponym among the Ahl al-bayt, see
Akashi Moteki, “Discourse Concerning the Genealogy (nasab) of al-Shāfiʿī and its
Formation,” (in Japanese) Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies, 23/1,
2007, pp. 147-173.
18 For example, Muhammad is to be regarded, quite irregularly, as the paternal forebear (ab) and agnate (ʿasaba) of Fātima’s progeny (II, pp. 138-139, 147-152, 160-

110

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

Al-Samhūdī’s arguments in Part Two revolve around the idea that the
19
Ahl al-bayt are an extension of the Prophet. As evidence of this status, alSamhūdī refers to different cases of special treatment God gave exclusively
to the Prophet and his Ahl al-bayt, such as the enjoinment on the believers
20
to pray for them (salāt) (II, pp. 46-67/215-227). He develops two lines of argument around this understanding. One is that the Ahl al-bayt are the embodiment of the divine guidance believers must follow. The other is that this
status necessitates kind and respectful attitude on the part of believers toward them. As a general trend, al-Samhūdī develops his arguments along
the first line in earlier chapters of Part Two and along the second line in the
later chapters. For example, Chapters Nine to Fourteen (II, pp. 210-398/317427) are solely devoted to the discussion of proper attitudes believers should
adopt toward the Ahl al-bayt. In correspondence with Part One, al-Samhūdī
also ends this part also with a chapter discussing the conducts desirable for
21
the Ahl al-bayt themselves (II, pp. 99-483/428-476).
The basis of al-Samhūdī’s arguments is most often Qur’ānic verses and
prophetic hadiths. But, Jawāhir is not a work that merely collects different
texts of a scriptural nature, and al-Samhūdī does not shy away from presenting his own opinions. At the same time, al-Samhūdī does not hesitate to
cite the sayings of the people of normative stature in addition to the Prophet. Such people include not only the Companions or eponyms of the Sunni
168/272-273, 277-279, 284-289). The contents of Chapter Eight (II, pp. 182-209/299316) as a whole also pertain only to the Hasanids and the Husaynids.
19 The expression “Extension of the Prophet” is that of the present author.
20 It is the prayer for the “Āl Muhammad,” and not for the “Ahl al-bayt,” that is ordained by the prophetic hadiths. However, al-Samhūdī cites an explicit statement by alHākim al-Naysābūrī (d. 405/1014) that this “Āl” is identical with the “Ahl al-bayt” (II,
p. 46/215). Generally speaking, al-Samhūdī treats different terms to denote the Prophet’s family (other examples include “Dhawū al-Qurbā” and “ʿItra”) to be interchangeable.
21 It should be noted here that al-Samhūdī’s Al-Jawhar al-shaffāf fī fadāʾil al-ashrāf
[The Transparent Jewel on the Merits of the Sharifs], although bearing a different and
independent title, appears to reproduce the text of the second part of Jawāhir faithfully. Compare, e.g., Jawāhir, II, p. 279/358 and Al-Jawhar, MS. Maktabat al-Haram
al-Makkī 2629, 104b as well as Jawāhir, II, p. 404/431 and Al-Jawhar, 155b, respectively, where the references to the first part of Jawāhir found in the former are excised in a rather mechanical and unsophisticated manner in the latter. The present
author obtained a reproduction of the Meccan manuscript of Al-Jawhar after almost
completing this article, and these statements are based on examinations of preliminary nature he has made so far. A thorough comparison might tease out some minor
differences between the two works. I would like to thank Dr. Yahya ibn Junaid, Prof.
Bernard Haykel, Mr. Nadav Samin and Dr. Emi Goto for assisting me in gaining access to the above-mentioned manuscript of Al-Jawhar.

111

KAZUO MORIMOTO

schools of jurisprudence but also the imams of Twelver Shiʿism (e.g., II, pp.
94-96/244-245). In addition, in both Part One and Part Two, many pages are
allocated to anecdotal stories recounting occurrences of a miraculous nature
22
(I, pp. 161-184; II, pp. 268-279, 285-309/78-87, 352-358, 361-375).
Nothing concrete can be said about the audience of the work, for alSamhūdī mentions no specific addressee in the work. It should be noted,
however, that the final chapter of both parts of Jawāhir is addressed to
ʿulamāʾ and the Ahl al-bayt, respectively. This would imply that al-Samhūdī
intended a comprehensive treatment of the two subjects in the sense that
the work would comprise advice not only to believers who interacted with
these two groups, but also to the ʿulamāʾ and Ahl al-bayt themselves. It can
thus be said that the book was targeted widely at al-Samhūdī’s fellow
23
Muslims en masse. Jawāhir has been published twice, first in Baghdad and
24
then in Beirut. Although the text of the Beirut edition – in spite of its claim
to present a newly edited text – is obviously based on that of the Baghdad
edition, references will be given also to this new edition in view of its easier
accessibility and more systematic and helpful paragraphing.

ʿUlamāʾ as Awliyāʾ Allāh
In Part One of Jawāhir, al-Samhūdī begins his arguments on the merits of
ʿilm mainly by referring to the role ʿulamāʾ play in the Muslim community.
Al-Samhūdī of course begins his exposition by citing Qurʾānic verses, which
merely declare the merits of ʿilm without giving any justification. However,
the explanations he presents as to why it is so are, as it were, functionalist
in nature. He posits ʿilm’s status as the source of all divine graces (al-asl fī
al-niʿam kullihā), because, as he explains, believers cannot do anything that
may bring divine grace without knowing it (I, pp. 79-80/30-31). The well22 For a discussion of some of these anecdotal stories, see my “How to Behave toward
Sayyids and Sharīfs: A Trans-sectarian Tradition of Dream Accounts,” in Kazuo
Morimoto, ed., Sayyids and Sharifs in Muslim Societies: The Living Links to the Prophet, London-New York, Routledge, 2012, pp. 15-36.
23 The phrase “May God give success to you and me” (waffaqanā Allāh wa-īyāka/
īyākum), which is addressed to the reader(s) and may or may not suggest the existence of a specific addressee, is found at I, pp. 75, 185, 197; II, pp. 6, 464/28, 88, 95,
192, 465 (the first and the fourth instances may be interpreted as being addressed exclusively to members of the Prophet’s House). A passage is also found at II, p.
268/352 in which al-Samhūdī appears to be specifically discussing the situation in
Medina for the audience in that locale.
24 Ed. by Mūsā Bunāy al-ʿAlīlī, 2 vols. in 3 pts., Baghdad, Wizārat al-Awqāf wa-lShuʾūn al-Dīniyya, 1405–1407/1984–1987; ed. by Mustafā ʿAbd al-Qādir ʿAtāʾ, Beirut,
Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1424/2003. Both editions leave much to be desired.

112

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

known prophetic saying that ʿulamāʾ are the heirs of the prophets (warathat
al-anbiyāʾ) is first mentioned in the context of such an argument (I, p. 83/33)
and the reason why ʿulamāʾ are entitled to the right to perform intercession
(shafāʿa) on the Day of Judgment alongside prophets and martyrs is explained by this logic (I, pp. 91/37-38). Al-Samhūdī even claims, on the basis
of this functional importance of ʿilm as well as by identifying ʿulamāʾ with
the “ulū al-amr” (those in authority) obedience to whom is ordained in
Qurʾān 4, 59, that the obedience to ʿulamāʾ is a religious obligation (I, pp.
110-111, 120-121/50, 54-55).
Al-Samhūdī’s approach to ʿilm and ʿulamāʾ, however, is by no means
uniformly functionalist. The tone of his arguments begins to change when
he sets out discussing why believers must love and respect ʿulamāʾ (I, pp.
130-152/60-72). As has already been said, he develops an argument based on
the characterization of ʿulamāʾ as awliyāʾ Allāh.
Al-Samhūdī begins this argument by citing some hadiths qudsī that
equate enmity toward awliyāʾ Allāh with enmity toward God Himself (I, pp.
133-134/62-63). He then cites the well-known saying attributed to both
Abū Hanīfa and al-Shāfiʿī: “If ʿulamāʾ are not awliyāʾ Allāh, then God has no
25
walī” (I, p. 134/63). Al-Samhūdī claims that it is rightly so because ʿulamāʾ
are engaged in the most meritorious act of submission (afdal al-tāʿāt) and
even states that there is no way to attain the status of a walī other than
through ʿilm.
This approach, although identifying ʿulamāʾ with a special ontological
category of awliyāʾ, is nonetheless based on their functions. However, alSamhūdī also maintains here that it is God who establishes ʿilm in ʿulamāʾs
minds. ʿUlamāʾ become ʿulamāʾ because of God’s dispensation and it is
through “the divine light” (al-nūr al-rabbānī) that God enables them to attain the knowledge of His command and prohibition (amruhu wa-nahyuhu)
26
(I, pp. 135-136/63). Thereafter, when God is assured that those individuals
are putting their knowledge into practice, He raises them to the “rank of
heirship” (maqām al-wirātha) (I, p. 136/64).
ʿUlamāʾ, because of their opposition to any acts which contradict the religion as well as because of the jealousy of others toward their elevated
status, are destined to suffer the enmity of the ignoramuses (juhhāl), but
25 He also notes that some versions read “jurists who practice their knowledge”
(al-fuqahāʾ al-ʿāmilūn) instead of “ʿulamāʾ ”.
26 Al-Samhūdī cites hadiths that imply God’s dispensation earlier in the text, too
(I, pp. 96-97/41-42).

113

KAZUO MORIMOTO

they are protected at the same time by God from such enmity (I, pp. 136139/64-65). Meanwhile, the harm done by ignoramuses is yet another means
to elevate the status of ʿulamāʾ. By patiently enduring their animosity,
ʿulamāʾ are elevated to the “rank of the patient ones” (maqām al-sābirīn) and
then to the “rank of empowerment” (maqām al-tamkīn), just as all the major
27
prophets were (I, pp. 142/66-67).
Al-Samhūdī elaborates further on ʿulamāʾs status as awliyāʾ Allāh. He
poses a hypothetical retort that points to the existence of ʿulamāʾ who indulge in disobedience (maʿsiya) against God and questions the status of the
ʿulamā as awliyāʾ Allāh (I, p. 153/73). Al-Samhūdī argues that only those
who put their ʿilm to practice deserve the name of ʿulamāʾ (I, pp. 153-154/7374). But he does not stop there. He goes on to assert that the true ʿulamāʾ –
those who are awliyāʾ Allāh – have the quality of istiqāma (uprightness) and
enjoy God’s hifz (protection), that is, they are immune from continually
committing sins (dhunūb), although they do not enjoy infallibility (ʿisma), a
28
quality reserved exclusively for prophets (I, p. 154/74). It is the divine light
in the minds of the ʿulamāʾ that prevents them from committing sins continuously (I, pp. 155/74). ʿUlamāʾs occasional slips (hafawāt) may even benefit them, he adds, because of their certain contrition and more complete
obedience thereafter (I, p. 156/74).
What is noteworthy is that it is none other than al-Qushayrī’s (d.
465/1072) well-known manual of Sufism, Al-Risāla, that al-Samhūdī cites
here in order to clarify the implications of hifz, especially its distinction
from ʿisma (I, pp. 154-155/74). In order to clarify the meaning of hifz, alSamhūdī quotes a passage from the “Chapter on the Miracles of Awliyāʾ”
29
(Bāb karāmāt awliyāʾ) of the Risāla. He also discusses al-Qushayrī’s statement in “another place” which is again concerned with the concept of hifz
27 “Tamkīn” in Sufi terminology denotes “the stabilization of one’s spiritual states
(hāl),” as explained in al-Qushayrī’s manual of Sufism, Al-Risāla, a source, as we will
see shortly, used by al-Samhūdī himself (Al-Qushayrī, Al-Risāla al-Qushayriyya,
Cairo, Mustafā al-Bābī al-Halabī, 1379/1959, pp. 44-45; translated by Alexander Knysh, Al-Qushayri’s Epistle on Sufism, Reading, Garnet Publishing, 2007, pp. 100-102,
424. The explanation of the term is taken from the latter). The meaning here, however, is clearly different.
28 Istiqāma (uprightness) is discussed by al-Qushayrī (as mentioned above, a source
used by al-Samhūdī) as a necessary condition for spiritual perfection, but not as a
requisite of a walī (Al-Qushayrī, Al-Risāla, pp. 103-140; A. Knysh, Al-Qushayri’s
Epistle, pp. 217-219). See also al-Jurjānī, Kitāb al-taʿrīfāt, Istanbul, Muhammad Asʿad,
1300/1882-3, pp. 11-12. “Hifz” will be discussed shortly.
29 The quotation is from al-Qushayrī, Al-Risāla, p. 175; A. Knysh, Al-Qushayri’s Epistle,
p. 361.

114

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS
30

and which presents hifz as a necessary trait of a walī. The understanding
of wilāya and awliyāʾ by al-Samhūdī, a case in point of E. Geoffroy’s “al31
ʿālim al-sūfī,” was thus based on Sufi theory of wilāya.
Finally, if ʿulamāʾ are awliyāʾ, it naturally follows that they can work
miracles. Al-Samhūdī presents first-hand accounts of miracles performed by
the people he regards as the true ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ, especially his masters
Sharaf al-Dīn al-Munāwī (d. 871/1467) and Shihāb al-Dīn al-Ibshītī (d. 883/
32
1478) (I, pp.161-184/78-87). Most of the accounts concern instances of mind
reading and precognition, both defined as mukāshafa (unveiling of the hidden), and are therefore by no means sensational. Nonetheless, al-Samhūdī’s
purpose in presenting these accounts is to demonstrate that the true ʿulamāʾ
in his own time did actually attain the status of awliyāʾ Allāh: those cases of
mukāshafāt are presented as genuine karāmāt to prove their wilāya (I, pp.
163-164, 184/79, 87).
This is how al-Samhūdī argues for the ʿulamāʾs status as awliyāʾ Allāh.
Here, before closing this section, it should be noted how his arguments are
30 In fact a quotation from al-Qushayrī, Al-Risāla, p. 128; A. Knysh, Al-Qushayri’s
Epistle, p. 269. Al-Samhūdī also cites ʿIzz al-Dīn b. ʿAbd al-Salām al-Sulamī’s (d. 660/
1262) statement on the awliyāʾs lack of ʿisma in the same place (for al-Sulamī, an alʿālim al-sūfī with Shādhilī connection, see Eric Chaumont, “Al-Sulamī, ʿIzz al-Dīn,”
Enc. Islam 2, IX, pp. 812-813). He also cites “one of the mystics” (baʿd al-ʿārifīn) twice
in the following passages. “Hifz” is also mentioned in a quotation al-Samhūdī makes
from Najm al-Dīn al-Tūfī (d. 716/1316; for this al-ʿālim al-sūfī with probable Qādirī
connection, see Wolfhart P. Heinrichs, “Al-Tūfī,” Enc. Islam 2, X, pp. 588-589) (I, p.
137/64). For references to more or less distinctive Sufi sources in Part One of
Jawāhir, see I, p. 109/49 (Sahl al-Tustarī); I, p. 131/61 (ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī,
Sunan al-sūfiyya); I, p. 133/62 (ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya); I, p.
139/65 (Ibn ʿAtāʾ Allāh); I, p. 141/66 (Fath al-Mawsilī, “ahad aʾimma al-sūfiyya”); I, p.
192/91 (“baʿd al-ʿārifīn”; ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, Sunan al-sūfiyya); I, p. 208/100
(ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī); I, p. 222/107 (Ibn al-ʿArabī); I, p. 250/118 (Al-Ustādh
Abū al-Qāsim al-Qushayrī); I, pp. 266-267/126 (Al-Muhāsibī; al-Ghazālī). See also I,
pp. 334-335/162, where the sayings of Sufi authorities such as Junayd and Sarī alSaqatī are cited in relation to their emphasis on adab and khulq (proper behaviors
and morals). Although this is in Chapter Three, whose text is based mostly on Ibn
Jamāʿa’s Tadhkira [see n. 16 above], these passages are al-Samhūdī’s original additions. Cf. Tadhkirat al-sāmiʿ wa-l-mutakallim fī adab al-ʿālim wa-l-mutaʿallim,
Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1974[?], p. 88).
31 Al-Samhūdī’s thesis that the divine light established in ʿulamāʾs minds guides their
acquisition of the knowledge of jurisprudence also finds a parallel in the idea Geoffroy presents as part of the discourses pertaining to the category of al-ʿālim al-sūfī,
namely that their ijtihād in jurisprudence is helped by the divine illumination (tanwīr al-basāʾir). See E. Geoffroy, Le soufisme en Égypte, pp. 151-152.
32 For al-Munāwī and al-Ibshītī, see al-Sakhāwī, Al-Dawʾ al-lāmiʿ, I, pp. 235-237; X, pp.
254-257, and al-Munāwī, Al-Tabaqāt, III, pp. 142-144, 277-304.

115

KAZUO MORIMOTO

subtly related to Sufism. Although al-Samhūdī’s understanding of wilāya
and walī is informed by Sufism, al-Samhūdī is not arguing here in such a
way to say that ʿulamāʾ attain the status of awliyāʾ because they attain an
intuitive knowledge of the Reality. ʿUlamāʾ are guided by the divine light in
their minds, but the knowledge they attain by following it is nothing but the
knowledge of God’s command and prohibition (amruhu wa-nahyuhu), that
is, knowledge of the Sharīʿa.
Geoffroy took up the concept of “ʿālim ʿāmil” (an ʿālim who practices his
knowledge, characterized most importantly by his ascetic life) while discussing different types of Muslim mystics, and showed how the Sufis and alʿālim al-sūfīs in the later Mamluk period argued that the acquisition of
Sharīʿa-related knowledge could be a path to the “réalisation spirituelle”
33
(tahqīq). Al-Samhūdī’s position in Jawāhir, though he also uses the same
concept of ʿālim ʿāmil, is clearly different from such arguments in that the
goal set for his ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ is not “réalisation spirituelle” but the mastering of the Sharīʿa-related disciplines. The relation between al-Samhūdī’s arguments and the Sufi theory of wilāya should thus be characterized as a case
of employment (or appropriation), by ʿulamāʾ of Sufi discourse and terminology for their own sake, something Talmon-Heller again has already shown
34
is manifested in her texts.

ʿUlamāʾ-Awliyāʾ and the Ahl al-Bayt
What makes al-Samhūdī’s theory of ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ especially significant and
interesting is that it is also linked to the question of the role of the Ahl albayt in the community of believers. In al-Samhūdī’s view, doors to the status
of ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ are not open equally to all. We have already seen al-Samhūdī state that ʿulamāʾ attain knowledge thanks to the “divine light” previously established in their minds and thus he suggests that they are different
in essence from other people. As one continues reading Jawāhir, it gradually
becomes transparent that al-Samhūdī considers descent as the most important
factor involved in God’s decision as to whom to accord such divine favor.
33 E. Geoffroy, Le soufisme en Égypte, pp. 293-297. Geoffroy presents none other than
our Samhūdī as an example of an ascetic ʿālim ʿāmil at ibid., p. 294, on the basis of a
biographical notice found in al-Shaʿrānī, Al-Tabaqāt al-sughrā, Cairo, Maktabat alQāhira, 1970, pp. 61-62. However, the subject of the biographical notice, “al-Shaykh
Nūr al-Dīn al-Samhūdī,” is clearly a different person who died in 903/1497-8 (a surprising coincidence).
34 D. Talmon-Heller, “ʿIlm, Shafāʿah, and Barakah,” pp. 33, 36, 40. See also M. Chamberlain, Knowledge and Social Practice, pp. 128-129 (also cited by Talmon-Heller).

116

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

The first signal of al-Samhūdī’s concern with descent is the abrupt appearance of the term “Ahl al-bayt” along with “ʿulamāʾ” in the title of the
second chapter of Part One (I, pp. 185-250/88-118), that is the chapter on the
origin and nature of the enmity against ʿulamāʾ as well as proper measures
35
ʿulamāʾ should take in face of such enmity. The reason for this sudden appearance of the Ahl al-bayt becomes clear as we read his arguments that follow.
Al-Samhūdī’s explanation as to the origin of the enmity against ʿulamāʾ
is highly deterministic and essentialist (I, pp. 185-197/88-94). He begins his
exposition by presenting the nature of Heaven and Hell. Heaven as well as
its inhabitants are purely good (tayyib) while Hell and its inhabitants are
characterized as purely evil (khabīth) (I, pp. 185/88). And this world is where
heavenly goodness and hellish evilness coexist. The world is the stage for
the struggle between the people of heavenly nature (the felicitous; sing.
saʿīd) and the people of hellish nature (the wretched; sing. shaqī) who, because of the universal rule that similar people are compatible with one another (a case of ihkām al-tanāsub), love and harmonize with their ilk, re36
spectively (I, pp. 185-189/88-90). Needless to say, ʿulamāʾ, as heirs to prophets, are inevitably involved in this struggle on the side of the good (I, pp.
185-186/88).
Thus, hatred against ʿulamāʾ is explained to have its origin in the evil essence of those who hate them. Those wretched people who hate ʿulamāʾ actually have no choice than to do so because their essence is, quite unlike
ʿulamāʾs, evil. It is exactly this linkage of the hatred against ʿulamāʾ with innate essence of the people that allows al-Samhūdī to bring the Ahl al-bayt
into discussion. For, to al-Samhūdī, it is the Ahl al-bayt who are the best in
essence. Al-Samhūdī slips in mentions of the Ahl al-bayt while discussing
ʿulamāʾ and hints that they are the people of the best essence. A fine example is when he states that he has seen many people who made sincere
penitence but returned to the original state in the end. It was their evilness
35 The title reads: “Presentation of the Origin of the Enmity against ʿUlamāʾ and the
Noble Ahl al-bayt, of the Affection of the Ignoble for the Ignoble, of the Warning
against Befriending Those Who Show Enmity against ʿUlamāʾ, of the Permissibility
of Dissociating and Humiliating Them, and of [the Necessity for] Clinging to the
High and Turning away from Low Aspirations.”
36 Of course, in actuality, the two elements do coexist in one and the same person. But
even in such cases, both elements retain and follow their respective natures and actions. Al-Samhūdī cites an interesting anecdote featuring Timur, a paragon of the
wretched, in this regard (I, pp. 189-190/90-91).

117

KAZUO MORIMOTO

(khubth) “rooted in their profound hatred against ʿulamāʾ, especially those
ʿulamāʾ who are accorded the nobility of descent enjoyed by the People of
the Prophet’s House (sharaf al-nasab li-Ahl al-bayt al-nabawī)” that hin37
dered them, al-Samhūdī assertively comments here (I, p. 198/95).
Al-Samhūdī’s concern with descent as an important condition for
would-be ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ is also attested by two short passages in the
manual for ʿulamāʾ and their students he presents at the end of Part One.
The first is the citation of the traditions that suggest the unsuitability of
various kinds of non-Arabs for ʿilm (I, pp. 312-323/150-151) and the second
is the presentation of the affiliation to the Ahl al-bayt among the conditions
for a student to be offered an upper seat in a master’s study circle, along
with age, knowledge, and righteousness (I, pp. 367-368/178). What is noteworthy here is the fact that both are missing in the text of Badr al-Dīn Ibn
Jamāʿa’s (d. 733/1333) Tadhkirat al-sāmiʿ wa-l-mutakallim which al-Samhūdī’s manual heavily draws on. These are al-Samhūdī’s own original addi38
tions. It is clear that al-Samhūdī not only subscribes to but is trying to advance the idea that descent counts when it comes to attaining ʿilm. The preferential treatment of the students from the Ahl al-bayt may merely be because of the respectability of that descent and therefore have nothing to do
39
with the students’ innate suitability for ʿilm. Al-Samhūdī’s arguments on
the merits of the nasab of the Ahl al-bayt in the second part of Jawāhir,
however, make it clear that that is actually not the case. Let us now turn to
the examination of those arguments he presents in Part Two.
As has already been mentioned, in Part Two, al-Samhūdī develops two
main lines of argument around the idea of the Ahl al-bayt’s being an extension of the Prophet. One is that the Ahl al-bayt are the embodiment of the
divine guidance believers must follow. The other is that this status necessitates kind and respectful attitude on the part of believers toward them. Of
course, it is the first line of al-Samhūdī’s arguments that is relevant to our
interest in this study.
37 Al-Samhūdī slips in further mentions of the Ahl al-bayt also at I, p. 207/100 and I,
p. 230/111.
38 See Ibn Jamāʿa, Tadhkira, pp. 67, 147. The texts of Jawāhir in both places follow
Tadhkira’s texts so closely that they leave no ambiguity as to what al-Samhūdī
added.
39 A section in al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī (d. 463/1071), Al-Jāmiʿ li-akhlāq al-rāwī wa-ādāb
al-sāmiʿ, titled “Hadith Scholar’s Respect for the Noble People of Respectable Descents” (Taʿzīm al-muhaddith al-ashrāf dhawī al-ansāb), bases the need for respectful
behavior merely on the descent’s respectability (ed. by M. ʿA. al-Khatīb, 2 vols.,
Beirut, Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1416/1995-6, I, pp. 546-549).

118

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

The Ahl al-bayt’s mission as the embodiment of divine guidance is fulfilled by their continuous production of religious leaders. Al-Samhūdī states
that because of their God-given perfect purity established in the well-known
40
Āyat al-tathīr [Verse of Purification] (Qurʾān 33, 33), it is destined that
many of the Ahl al-bayt will attain the rank of the prophets’ heirs and
awliyāʾ Allāh (darajat al-wirātha wa-l-wilāya). He even cites an opinion that
the poles of awliyāʾ (sing. qutb al-awliyāʾ) always emerge from the Ahl albayt because God granted them the esoteric authority (al-tasarruf al-bātin)
in place of the exoteric one when Hasan renounced his caliphate to
Muʿāwiya in the year 41/661 (II, pp. 29-31/205-206).
Of course, al-Samhūdī’s interest remains always with ʿulamāʾ when he
discusses this mission. After propounding the view, on the basis of the well41
known Hadīth al-thaqalayn [Hadith of the Two Weighty Things], that the
Ahl al-bayt, alongside the Qur’ān, are one of the two sources of religious
knowledge which must be followed and cherished (II, pp. 72-118/231-258),
he rather abruptly singles out ʿulamāʾ to take charge of this God-given mission, saying:
Those whom the [prophetic] urge for adhering to them pertains
to among the Ahl al-bayt of the Prophet and the pure relatives
(al-ʿitra al-tāhira) are the ʿulamāʾ of the Book of God, since the
Prophet does not urge adherence to other than them and it is they
42
who will not part from the Book until they come to the pool.
Al-Samhūdī goes a step further. Immediately after this statement, he compares ʿulamāʾ among the Ahl al-bayt with those from outside it. Quite predictably, his conclusion is that the former are privileged by the “additional
urge” (mazīd al-hathth) (II, p. 93/243).
40 The verse reads: “And God only wishes to remove all abomination from you, ye the
Ahl al-bayt, and to make you pure and spotless.” Abudullah Yusuf Ali’s translation
distributed online by The Islamic Computing Centre, London, with modification.
41 A version of Hadīth al-thaqalayn al-Samhūdī cites reads: “I am about to be called [by
God] and answer [i.e., I will not live long]. But, I am leaving behind two weighty
things (al-thaqalān) among you. [One is] the Book of God, a rope extended from the
heaven to the ground. [The other is] my relatives (ʿitratī), my Ahl al-bayt. God informed me that the two would not separate until they come to me at the pool [on
the Day of Judgment]. So, be mindful of how you treat the two after my demise” (II,
p. 72/231).
42 II, p. 93/243. Formulaic invocations are omitted. For other instances of al-Samhūdī
singling out ʿulamāʾ from among the Ahl al-bayt in the same vein, see II, pp. 117,
123, 126/257, 262, 263.

119

KAZUO MORIMOTO

Al-Samhūdī also puts forward another important claim on the basis of
the Hadīth al-thaqalayn. Now that the Prophet has ordered the believers to
adhere to the Ahl al-bayt, it follows that the Ahl al-bayt are destined continuously to produce people worth adhering to (II, p. 94/244). Moreover, on the
basis of the hadiths that characterize the Ahl al-bayt as the protection (amān)
of the Umma or compare them to Noah’s ark, al-Samhūdī suggests that the
world continues to exist only as long as the Ahl al-bayt are present in it (II,
43
pp. 123-125/262-263). Thus, al-Samhūdī argues that the Ahl al-bayt are destined perennially to produce ʿulamāʾ worth adhering to, and that those
ʿulamāʾ from the Ahl al-bayt are more meritorious than the other ʿulamāʾ
because of their double affiliations with ʿilm and the nasab of the Ahl albayt.
Finally, al-Samhūdī’s presentation of the conducts desirable for the Ahl
al-bayt made in the last chapter of Part Two again includes an item that
demonstrates his preoccupation with the Ahl al-bayt’s mission to produce
worthy ʿulamāʾ continuously. The first item he presents in this chapter is indeed the study of Sharīʿa-related disciplines (al-ʿulūm al-sharʿiyya), especially the Qurʾān and the prophetic Sunna (II, pp. 399-403/428-431). They
must study them, because “the most appropriate among the people (awlā alnās) for that [i.e., studying Sharīʿa-related disciplines] are the Ahl al-bayt of
the Prophet,” al-Samhūdī reasons (II, p. 399/428). “Their forebears never quit
that. The Sharīʿa-related disciplines never appeared and got spread except
from their noble family (ʿunsur baytihim al-sharīf),” he continues (II, p.
399/428). And when they have thus studied well, al-Samhūdī states, the result is that they have attained “the two affiliations” (al-nisbatān) with their
forefather, the Prophet Muhammad (II, p. 404/431).

Conclusion
Inspired by Talmon-Heller’s recent article, this study has presented how alSamhūdī argued for ʿulamāʾs status as awliyāʾ Allāh. It has also shown how
he advanced descent from the Ahl al-bayt as an important pre-condition for
attaining the status of ʿulamāʾ-awliyāʾ. On one hand, ʿulamāʾ, protected by
God from continuously committing sins, and endowed with the ability to
work miracles, must not only be loved and respected, but also obeyed. Hostility toward them only proves the inherently evil nature of their haters. On
43 He presents two possibilities as to what the “Ahl al-bayt,” when characterized as the
protection of the Umma, means: either it means only the ʿulamāʾ among the Ahl albayt or the Ahl al-bayt as a whole. His judgment here is that the second is more likely.

120

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

the other hand, the Ahl al-bayt are destined to produce ʿulamāʾ perennially in
order to fulfill their mission as the embodiment of the divine guidance. Moreover, those ʿulamāʾ from the Ahl al-bayt are more meritorious than the other ʿulamāʾ because of their double affiliations to ʿilm and nasab. This is what
we have distilled from Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn in relation to al-Samhūdī’s discussion
as to the Prophet’s family as a source par excellence of saintly scholars.
Needless to say, this is by no means all what Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn has to
say. Remember, for example, that we did not discuss what the present au thor named al-Samhūdī’s second line of argument as to the Ahl al-bayt: that
is, the necessity of kind and respectful attitude on the part of believers toward them. To do justice to Jawāhir, either part of the work must be studied
in its own right in comparison with other texts of their respective subjects.
This study, however, has contributed to the study of this interesting work in
that it has brought to light the link that connects the two seemingly disparate parts of the book. Al-Samhūdī does not explain the reason why he discusses the merits of ʿilm and nasab under one single title. The findings of
this study, however, appear to point to a plausible answer: his objective was
to create a framework which would allow him to weave in his arguments
for the special status of the ʿulamāʾ from the Ahl al-bayt.
How original are al-Samhūdī’s arguments examined in this study? It is
evident that linking the two distinctive arguments for ʿulamāʾs status as
awliyāʾ Allāh and for the perennial production of ʿulamāʾ by the Ahl al-bayt
was made possible by the unique and original feature of Jawāhir to discuss
ʿilm and nasab together in a single work. Investigation as to the originality
of each of these two arguments, however, must be carried over into future
studies. Such future studies should include inquiries as to Jawāhir’s place in
the respective processes of the infiltration of Sufi elements into the works
on the merits of ʿilm and ʿulamāʾ and that of Shi‘ite elements into Sunni
44
works on the merits of the Prophet’s family.
44 As a note on margin: (1) Al-Samhūdī cites the saying attributed to Abū Hanīfa and
al-Shāfiʿī from the works of Abū Bakr al-Bayhaqī (d. 458/1066), al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī and al-Nawawī (d. 676/1278). All of them just mention the saying and make no
elaboration. See al-Bayhaqī, Manāqib al-Shāfiʿī, ed. by A. Saqr, 2 vols., Cairo, Maktabat Dār al-Turāth, 1971, II, p. 155; Al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī, Kitāb al-faqīh wa-l-mutafaqqih, Cairo, Zakarīyā ʿAlī Yūsuf, 1977, p. 24; Al-Nawawī, Al-Majmūʿ sharh al-muhadhdhab, 20 vols., n.p., Dār al-Fikr, n.d., I, p. 20; Al-Nawawī, Tibyān fī ādāb hamalat al-Qurʾān, ed. by ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz ʿIzz al-Dīn al-Sayrawān, Beirut, Dār al-Nafāʾis,
1404/1984, p. 24. The saying is also cited in Ibn Jamāʿa, Tadhkira, p. 11, a work used
extensively by al-Samhūdī, but not in Ibn ʿAbd al-Barr, Jāmiʿ bayān al-ʿilm wa-fadlihi, ed. by A. al-Zuhayrī, 2 vols., Dammam, Dār Ibn al-Jawzī, 1414/1994, and al-

121

KAZUO MORIMOTO

Finally, it goes without saying that Nūr al-Dīn ʿAlī b. ʿAbd Allāh al-Hasanī al-Samhūdī was himself both an ʿālim and affiliated to the Ahl al-bayt.
Then, is the feature of Jawāhir that we have elucidated in this study aimed
at his self-promotion? Talking of a cultural world in which Jalāl al-Dīn alSuyūtī (d. 911/1505), for example, made a seemingly conceited claim to be a
mujaddid (renewer of the religion that appears at the beginning of each cen45
tury) himself, it surely would not be far-fetched to think that way. At the
same time, however, one cannot avoid asking if writing Jawāhir was really
Khatīb al-Baghdādī, Al-Jāmiʿ, two other important works on the topic of ʿilm and
ʿulamāʾ al-Samhūdī cites; (2) Four of the six traditions al-Samhūdī cites when arguing for the Ahl al-bayt’s perennial production of the people worth following are
related from Twelver Shiʿite imams through Sunni sources (II, pp. 94-96/244-245;
among such sources is Ibn al-Maghāzilī’s [d. 483/1090] Manāqib). It should also be
noted that the text of Part Two of Jawāhir sometimes feels quite “Shiʿite,” although
al-Samhūdī makes repeated efforts to distance (the respect for) the Ahl al-bayt from
Shi‘ism (e.g., II, pp. 99, 107-115, 435-457/247, 252-256, 449-461) and it is only Abū
ʿAlī al-Fadl al-Tabrisī’s (d. 548/1154) Iʿlām al-warā bi-aʿlām al-hudā that is distinctively Shiʿite among the works cited by al-Samhūdī (II, p. 430/447; but note that Iʿlām
uses many Sunni sources in its own turn). See, e.g., the deeds and sayings of
eleven imams up to Hasan al-ʿAskarī, “the imams of the Ahl al-bayt of the Prophet,”
presented as moral examples and for blessing (tabarruk) at II, pp. 417-434/439-449;
(3) Singling out ʿulamāʾ from among the Ahl al-bayt as the people to be followed has
a precedence as early as in al-Hakīm al-Tirmidhī’s (d. between 318/936 and 320/938)
Nawādir al-usūl fī maʿrifat ahādīth al-Rasūl, ed. by Ismāʿīl Ibrāhīm Mutawallī ʿAwad,
2 pts., Cairo, Maktabat al-Imām al-Bukhārī, 1429/2008, pp. 207-208. Al-Tirmidhī’s
discussion, however, is not only unaccompanied by the thesis of the perennial emergence of ʿulamāʾ from among the Ahl al-bayt, but contradicts it somewhat; (4) Part
Two of Jawāhir draws heavily on al-Sakhāwī’s work on the merits of the Prophet’s
family, Istijlāb irtiqāʾ al-ghuraf bi-hubb aqribāʾ al-Rasūl wa-dhawī al-sharaf, in terms
of its materials (see al-Sakhāwī, Istijlāb, ed. by Khālid b. Ahmad al-Summī Bābtīn, 2
pts., Beirut, Dār al-Bashāʾir al-Islāmiyya, 1421/2000, pp. 204-207. See also al-Sakhāwī,
Tuhfa, II, p. 284). But, al-Sakhāwī neither singles out ʿulamāʾ nor propounds the theory of their perennial appearance from the Ahl al-bayt. Jawāhir, in its turn, is used
heavily as a source of materials by Ibn Hajar al-Haytamī (d. 974/1567) in his AlSawāʿiq al-muhriqa ʿalā ahl al-rafd wa-l-dalāl wa-l-zandaqa. Al-Haytamī reproduces
al-Samhūdī’s arguments as to the special position of ʿulamāʾ among the Ahl al-bayt
faithfully in his work (Al-Haytamī, Al-Sawāʿiq, ed. by ʿAbd al-Rahmān b. ʿAbd Allāh
al-Turkī and Kāmil Muhammad al-Kharrāt, 2 pts., Beirut, Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1417/
1997, pp. 439, 442, 446-447, 529).
45 For al-Suyūtī’s claim, see Ella Landau-Tasseron, “The ‘Cyclical Reform’: A Study of
the Mujaddid Tradition,” Studia Islamica, 70, 1989, pp. 87-88. About a century earlier
than al-Suyūtī, ʿAlī Wafāʾ (d. 897/1404) of Cairo also laid a claim to the status of the
seal of sainthood (khatam al-wilāya) in his writing. See Richard McGregor, “Conceptions of the Ultimate Saint in Mamluk Egypt,” in R. McGregor and Adam Sabra, eds.,
Le développement du soufisme en Égypte à l’époque mamelouke, Cairo, Institut Franҫais d’Archéologie Orientale, 2006, pp. 177-187. Of course, this reminds us of the
same claim laid by al-Hakīm al-Tirmidhī in the tenth century (see Bernd Radtke,

122

THE PROPHET’S FAMILY AS THE PERENNIAL SOURCE OF SAINTLY SCHOLARS

an effective way for self-promotion. It would appear that a short tract with
more explicit presentation of his own, individual merits would probably
have been a better choice. Why did he not present his own miracles instead
of his masters’ if he wanted to promote himself? It appears we have to follow the principle of in dubio pro reo, at least for the time being.

Selected Bibliography
Primary sources
al-Haytamī, Al-Sawāʿiq al-muhriqa ʿalā ahl al-rafd wa-l-dalāl wa-l-zandaqa,
ed. by ʿAbd al-Rahmān b. ʿAbd Allāh al-Turkī and Kāmil Muhammad alKharrāt, 2 pts., Beirut, Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1417/1997.
Ibn Jamāʿa, Badr al-Dīn, Tadhkirat al-sāmiʿ wa-l-mutakallim fī adab al-ʿālim wal-mutaʿallim, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1974[?].
al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī, Al-Jāmiʿ li-akhlāq al-rāwī wa-ādāb al-sāmiʿ, ed. by M. ʿA.
al-Khatīb, 2 vols., Beirut, Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1416/1995-6.
al-Munāwī, Zayn al-Dīn, Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya, ed. by M. A. al-Jādir, 5 vols. in 6
pts., Beirut, Dār Sādir, 1999.
al-Qushayrī, Al-Risāla al-Qushayriyya, Cairo, Mustafā al-Bābī al-Halabī,
1379/1959, transl. by Alexander Knysh, Al-Qushayri’s Epistle on Sufism,
Reading, Garnet Publishing, 2007.
al-Sakhāwī, Al-Dawʾ al-lāmiʿ li-ahl al-qarn al-tāsiʿ, 12 vols. in 6 pts., Cairo,
Maktabat al-Qudsī, 1353-1355/1934-5-1936-7.
Id., Al-Tuhfa al-latīfa fī taʾrīkh al-Madīna al-sharīfa, 2 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub
al-ʿ Ilmiyya, 1414/1993.
Id., Istijlāb rtiqāʾ al-ghuraf bi-hubb aqribāʾ al-Rasūl wa-dhawī al-sharaf, ed. by
Khālid b. Ahmad al-Summī Bābtīn, 2 pts., Beirut, Dār al-Bashāʾir alIslāmiyya, 1421/2000.
al-Samhūdī, Al-Jawhar al-shaffāf fī fadāʾil al-ashrāf, MS. Mecca, Maktabat alHaram al-Makkī 2629.
Id., Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn, ed. by Mūsā Bunāy al-ʿAlīlī, 2 vols. in 3 pts., Baghdad,
Wizārat al-Awqāf wa-l-Shuʾūn al-Dīniyya, 1405-1407/1984-1987.
Id., Jawāhir al-ʿiqdayn, ed. by Mustafā ʿAbd al-Qādir ʿAtāʾ, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub
al-ʿIlmiyya, 1424/2003.
al-Shaʿrānī, Al-Tabaqāt al-sughrā, Cairo, Maktabat al-Qāhira, 1970.

“The Concept of Wilāya in Early Sufism,” in Leonard Lewisohn, ed., Classical Persian Sufism: From Its Origins to Rumi, London-New York, Khaniqahi Nimatullahi
Publications, 1993, pp. 483-496). So, such claims, conceited and extravagant as they
appear to this author, were by no means limited to the Mamluk period.

123

KAZUO MORIMOTO

Studies
Adrees, Bader, “A Critical Edition of Al-Luʾluʾ al-Manthūr fī Naṣīḥat Wulāt alUmūr by Nūr al-Dīn al-Samhūdī (d. 911H),” unpublished doctoral
dissertation, University of Durham, 2007.
Aigle, Denise, “Essai sur les autorités religieuses de l’islam médieval oriental,” in
id., ed., Les autorités religieuses entre charismes et hiérarchie: Approches
comparatives, Turnhout, Brepols, 2011, pp. 17-40.
Brown, Jonathan, The Canonization of al-Bukhārī and Muslim: The Formation
and Function of the Sunnī Ḥadīth Canon, Leiden-Boston, Brill, 2007.
Chamberlain, Michael, Knowledge and Social Practice in Medieval Damascus,
1190-1350, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994.
Décobert, Christian, “L’institution du waqf, la baraka et la transmission du
savoir,” in Hasan Elboudrari, ed., Modes de transmission de la culture
religieuse en Islam, Cairo, Institut Franҫais d’Archéologie Orientale, 1993,
pp. 25-40.
Geoffroy, Eric, Le soufisme en Égypte et en Syrie sous les derniers Mamelouks et
les premiers Ottomans : Orientations spirituelles et enjeux culturels,
Damascus, Institut Franҫais d’Études Arabes de Damas, 1996.
Landau-Tasseron, Ella, “The ‘Cyclical Reform’: A Study of the Mujaddid
Tradition,” Studia Islamica, 70, 1989, pp. 79-117.
McGregor, Richard, “Conceptions of the Ultimate Saint in Mamluk Egypt,” in R.
McGregor and Adam Sabra, eds., Le développement du soufisme en Égypte à
l’époque mamelouke, Cairo, Institut Franҫais d’Archéologie Orientale, 2006,
pp. 177-187.
Morimoto, Kazuo, “How to Behave toward Sayyids and Sharīfs: A Transsectarian Tradition of Dream Accounts,” in id., ed., Sayyids and Sharifs in
Muslim Societies: The Living Links to the Prophet, London-New York,
Routledge, 2012, pp. 15-36.
Id., “Toward the Formation of Sayyido-Sharifology: Questioning Accepted Fact,”
The Journal of Sophia Asian Studies, 22, 2004, pp. 87-103.
Moteki, Akashi, “Discourse Concerning the Genealogy (nasab) of al-Shāfiʿī and
its Formation,” Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies, 23/1,
2007, pp. 147-173.
Radtke, Bernd, “The Concept of Wilāya in Early Sufism,” in Leonard Lewisohn,
ed., Classical Persian Sufism: From Its Origins to Rumi, London-New York,
Khaniqahi Nimatullahi Publications, 1993.
Talmon-Heller, Daniella, “ʿIlm, Shafāʿah, and Barakah: The Resources of Ayyubid
and Early-Mamluk Ulama,” Mamlūk Studies Review, 13/2, 2009, pp. 23-45.
Tonaga, Yasushi, “Sufi Saints and Non-Sufi Saints in Early Islamic History,” The
Journal of Sophia Asian Studies, 22, 2004, pp. 1-13.

124

Sainthood as Patrimony:
ʿAbd Allāh al-ʿAydarūs (d. 1461)
and his Descendants

Esther Peskes

Introduction
“We turn to God in everything, succour of creatures, Lord of the
world’s inhabitants; …
[We turn to Him] through those who know God’s command, the
friends of God and pious;
Particularly, I mean the imam and Sufi pole indeed, the outstanding in religion, the crown of the God-knowing gnostics;
He climbed high in the ranks of mystical states, uniting sharī‘a
and [spiritual] certainty;
The dhikr of al-‘Aydarūs, the Sufi pole, removes the rust from
[the mirrors of] the hearts of the sincere;
The upright in faith, truly the revivifier of religion, to him we
1
give our Sufi pledge, and his lead we follow…”
The man who uttered these verses in praise of a Sufi called “al-‘Aydarūs”
was Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs (d. 914/1509), and the man thus praised and venerated was his father ‘Abd Allāh (d. 865/1461), the first bearer of the name
“al-‘Aydarūs” ever. Both stemmed from Wādī Hadramawt in Southern Arabia (since 1990 part of the Yemen Republic), where still today descendants of
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs live.
Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs repeatedly exalted his father in his writings as a
superior Muslim saint or friend of God, and he left no doubt that to him he
owed his spiritual legitimation. Then, after he himself had become a Sufi of
some saintly renown in the port city of Aden, his fame spread the name
“al-‘Aydarūs” wider than his father ever did or probably could have imagined; and some not familiar with genealogical details erroneously even
thought or think of Abū Bakr, one out of four sons of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, as the eponym founder of a later widespread and highly differenti-

1

Abū Bakr b. ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, K. al-Dīwān, MS. Berlin, Staatsbibliothek,
Ahlwardt 7928 (Wetzstein 51), f. 1a-136a, here f. 2a.

125

ESTHER PESKES

ated genealogical group whose members are easily discernible among others
by their uncommon family name.
Hagiographical prosopography, historiography and Sufi treatises of the
pre-modern era (fifteenth through eighteenth centuries) have preserved the
names and biographical data of ninety individuals, all with the surname
“al-‘Aydarūs” and of verifiable genealogical connections to ‘Abd Allāh al2
‘Aydarūs, many of whom became known for Sufi activities. This material
allows for a closer look on the ways in which descendants of ‘Abd Allāh
al-‘Aydarūs made use of his name and saintly aura for their purposes
through a longer period of time and in manifold historical circumstances.

Foundations of sainthood
When a son praises his father for whatever reason, one could justly suspect
that this praise might only be due to familial bias. Yet, in the case of ‘Abd
Allāh al-‘Aydarūs the fact that he was considered as a man of outstanding
3
Sufi and saintly qualities is echoed in non-local contemporary writings, let
alone in Hadrami hagiographical sources which preserve most of our information about the basis on which his position was built, while at the same
time enhancing his saintly aura.
Unless one is a true believer, sainthood must be considered as dependent
on human consensus and result of a socio-religious process which brings
into being the belief in individual religious authority assumed to be given by
God ad personam. The processes generating saints are manifold and differ
between religions, but also within one and the same religious framework. At
any rate, mostly such processes start in local developments; they reflect
needs and expectations of people in different settings, e.g. urban or rural,
and, more often than not, are influenced by social hierarchies. This last
point is of central importance in the case of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs.
Genealogically, ‘Abd Allāh b. Abī Bakr b. ‘Abd al-Rahmān, surnamed
al-‘Aydarūs, belonged to a group of people in Hadramawt claiming descent
2

3

For details on the sources see Esther Peskes, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben. Eine Untersuchung zu Geschichte und Sufismus einer hadramitischen sāda-Gruppe vom fünfzehnten bis zum achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Stuttgart, Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005, pp.
14-21. Some important titles will be mentioned below.
The most important non-local testimonies were written by the Yemeni scholar Abū
l-‘Abbās Ahmad b. Ahmad b. ‘Abd al-Latīf al-Sharjī al-Zabīdī (d. 893/1488) in his
Tabaqāt al-khawāss ahl al-sidq wal-ikhlās (ed. ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad al-Hibshī,
Beirut, 19922, p. 223) and the Egyptian-Hijāzī scholar Muhammad b. ‘Abd al-Rahmān
al-Sakhāwī (d. 902/1497) in his al-Daw’ al-lāmi‘ fī a‘yān al-qarn al-tāsi‘, Beirut, n.d.,
vol. 5, p. 16.

126

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

from the Prophet Muhammad by his grandson al-Husayn. Hence he was
part of the social stratum of the sāda, well-known also in other regions of
4
the Islamic world. At the time of his birth in 811/1409, the Hadrami sāda,
then all belonging to the Shāfi‘ī madhhab, looked back on four-and-a-half
centuries of history in Hadramawt to where their genealogical ancestor had
5
migrated by the middle of the tenth century A.D. The Hadrami sāda, who
6
called themselves “Bā ‘Alawī”, had, by the beginning of the fifteenth century, grown from modest familial-clannish beginnings into a multi-facetted
genealogical group. They had centered their activities as owners of land and
plantations and as local or regional merchants on the town of Tarīm in east7
ern Wādī Hadramawt, but spread out to the rural periphery also.
The sāda’s growing influence in Hadramawt had altered the fabric of Hadrami society. Social friction did manifest itself less in economic, but rather
in religious terms, as the sāda claimed a superior socio-religious stance, due
to their descent from the Prophet of Islam, above the original local population with mainly South-Arabian tribal genealogies. Their claim did not halt
before Sufism as it became a widely distributed phenomenon in the Islamic
world and by the end of the twelfth century began to reach Southern Arabia
8
via Yemen.
Hagiography and Sufi treatises written by Hadrami sāda from the fifteenth century onwards assert that the introduction of Sufism to Hadramawt had been the merit of one Bā ‘Alawī-sayyid by the middle of the
4

5
6
7

8

The terminological differentiation between sāda and ashrāf, as descendants of the
Prophet are also called, conventionally reflects the genealogical difference between
the Prophet’s two grandsons and their descendants: al-Hasan (ashrāf) and al-Husayn
(sāda). Other than in Yemen, in Hadramawt historically only sāda played a role in
society; sometimes they are honorifically also alluded to as ashrāf, but sayyid/sāda is
their preponderate designation. For the different usages of the terms cf. Cornelius
van Arendonk and William Graham, « Sharīf », Enc. Islam 2, IX, pp. 329-337, esp. 332.
For details on the early history of the Hadrami sāda see E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und
seine Erben, pp. 23-30; Robert B. Serjeant, The Saiyids of Hadramawt, London, University of Cambridge Press, 1957, pp. 8-16.
The “family of ‘Alawī” named after ‘Alawī (d. c. beginning of the eleventh century),
the founder of the most important genealogical lineage in the group’s early development in Hadramawt.
For their economic activities see E. Peskes, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, p. 28 und id.,
“Der Heilige und die Dimensionen seiner Macht. Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs und die
Saiyid-Sūfīs von Hadramawt,” Quaderni di Studi Arabi, 13, 1995, pp. 41-72, here
pp. 50-52.
On the beginnings of Sufism in Yemen, cf. Alexander Knysh, Ibn ‘Arabī in the Later
Islamic Tradition. The Making of a Polemical Image in Medieval Islam, New York,
State University of New York, Press, 1999, pp. 227-229.

127

ESTHER PESKES

thirteenth century. This assertion is not supported by facts, but highly questionable in the light of medieval non-Hadrami sources which dispassionately attribute the beginnings of Hadrami Sufism to the efforts of non-sāda
Hadārim. Nevertheless, the sāda’s claim became the successful founding legend of a special stream within Sufism. In an intellectual process which started during the fourteenth century, the Bā ‘Alawī’s physical pedigree and
Sufi spiritual genealogy were fused in a sāda-silsila which became an effective tool for the establishment of a Sufism that differentiated fundamentally
9
between the categories of sāda and non-sāda. The latter did also engage in
Sufism, but some sources ascribe to them mainly the role of the sāda’s ad10
mirors and second-class followers.
In the process of establishing the Bā ‘Alawī Sufism, ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs played an important role. He stemmed from the economically most influential Bā ‘Alawī lineage in which also most efforts for the establishment
11
of the sāda-silsila were located. Still a young man settled in Tarīm, he took
over the sāda’s internal direction, an inofficial office dependent on the consent of his peers, but making him socially a primus inter pares. Outside the
sāda’s milieu, political influence is attributed to him as a mediator between
tribal groups or regional rulers from tribal background in a politically fragmented society. Inherited landed property became the basis of his wealth
which served him to build up a circle of adherents as a man of spiritual authority.
9

This is the historical phase in which the so-called “‘Alawī way (tarīqa ‘alawiyya)”
came into being whose precondition and uniting bond through the ages is the ‘Alawī-descent. For details on the historical background of the legend’s development
and on the more probable version of the introduction of Sufism to Hadramawt see E.
Peskes, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 176-180. Research echoing the sāda’s point
of view still dominates, e.g. R. Serjeant, Saiyids, pp. 19-20; Oskar Löfgren, “Bā ‘Alawī,” Enc. Islam 2, I, p. 829; John Spencer Trimingham, The Sufi Orders in Islam, London-Oxford-New York, Clarendon Press, 1971, p. 16 n. 1; Engseng Ho, The Graves of
Tarim. Genealogy and Mobility across the Indian Ocean, Berkeley-Los Angeles, University of California Press, 2006, p. 41.
10 E.g. Muhammad b. Abī Bakr al-Shilli Bā ‘Alawī, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī fī manāqib alsāda al-kirām Āl Abī ‘Alawī, 2 vols., Cairo, 1319/1901, vol. 2, p. 5 (one of the most
important Bā ‘Alawī hagiographies, dating from the seventeenth century). That nonsāda were active in Sufism and not unfrequently were Sufi teachers for young sāda
becomes nevertheless evident from a detailed reading of the sāda’s prosopo-hagiographical collections.
11 His own father was Abū Bakr b. ‘Abd al-Rahmān (d. 821/1418), surnamed “alSakrān,” an epithet alluding to his experiences as ecstatic Sufi; for him and other
near agnates of al-‘Aydarūs active as Sufis see E. Peskes, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben,
pp. 31-38, 174-176, 196-197.

128

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

Like many of his Hadrami contemporaries, sāda and non-sāda, he had
studied Shāfi‘ī fiqh, but Sufism, converging with his other social attributes,
became the way to a religious fame that spread beyond local confines. The
powerful Sayyid became a Sufi who attracted followers even from outside
12
Hadramawt. The quality of the saintly miracles (karāmāt) attributed to him
does not substantially differ from that of other friends of God of non-sāda
13
extraction, but he obviously gained a more than average saintly reputation
already during his lifetime. This cannot be understood without taking into
account his social standing and familial background.
But additionally, and differing much from his Sufi agnates, he augmented the Bā ‘Alawī Sufism in the written dimension and became the first Bā
‘Alawī ever to compose an, if somehow modest, monographical treatise on
Sufism entitled K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar wa l-iksīr al-akbar (The red sulphur
14
and the greatest elixir). The composition of this tract indicates his aim to
direct followers of Sufism beyond the ephemeral moment. The act of writing, thus producing a text which adherents of a Sufi shaykh normally hold
to be inspired, may have helped to build up his position in Sufism or was the
result of this process. In any case, Sufi writing became also important for
some of his descendants, as will be seen in individual cases.
The contents of the tract itself are as unobtrusive as the miracles attributed to him. In it, he laid down some general outlines of an unspectacular,
modest Sufi behaviour, much reminding of al-Ghazālī’s middle course bet-

12 al-Sakhāwī, al-Daw’, vol. 5, p. 16; ‘Umar b. Muhammad Bā Shaybān Bā ‘Alawī,
Tiryāq asqām al-qulub al-wāf fī dhikr hikāyāt al-sāda al-ashrāf, MS. London, British
Library, Oriental and India Office Collection, Or 112, f. 153a-b (one of the most important Bā ‘Alawī hagiographies, dating from the early sixteenth century).
13 Karāmāt that were attributed to him are mentioned e.g. in Muhammad b. ‘Alī Kharid
Bā ‘Alawī, (d. 960/1553), Ghurar al-bahā’ al-dawī wa-durar al-jamāl al-badī‘ al-bahī
fī dhikr al-a’imma al-amjād wa l-‘ulamā’ al-‘ārifīn al-nuqqād wa l-fuqahā’ al-mubarrizīn al-asyād min Banī l-shaykh Basrī wa-Banī l-shaykh Jadīd wa-Banī l-shaykh
‘Alawī, ed. ‘Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlānī b. Sālim b. ‘Alawī Kharid, Cairo, 1985, pp. 408-412.
These karāmāt belong to the categories of self-defense, healing and protecting (after
istighātha to him even from the far distance), ubiquity and thought-reading, according to the typology of karāmāt presented by Richard Gramlich, Die Wunder der Freunde Gottes. Theologie und Erscheinungsformen des islamischen Heiligenwunders,
Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz, 1987. For the general debate whether karāmāt on the
whole were necessarily a sign of sainthood see Denis Gril, “Le miracle en Islam,
critère de la sainteté ?,” in Denise Aigle, ed., Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard,
1995, pp. 69-81, esp. 75-77.
14 K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar wa l-iksīr al-akbar, in Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs, K. Idāh asrār
‘ulum al-muqarrabīn. Cairo 1933, pp. 65-80.

129

ESTHER PESKES
15

16

ween extremes, formulating and interpreting a tripartite dhikr, warning
against the dangers of samā‘ and rejecting any form of monistic thinking.
The text’s unobtrusiveness should not lead to underrate ‘Abd Allāh al‘Aydarūs’ saintly aura. Rather, it must be placed in a social context which can
be reconstructed rightly only in the light of other sorts of writings. Several
hagiographical works and Sufi poetry celebrating his manāqib and genealogy, the earliest dating from around the middle of the fifteenth century and
written by Hadrami sāda as well as non-sāda, account for a dense saint-ven17
eration which developed already during his lifetime. It is probably this context of his Sufi activities in which his strange surname “al-‘Aydarūs” came
into being. The Hadrami sources, despite their closeness in time and space,
do not offer convincing explanations for a word of seemingly non-Arabic
18
origin, yet all agree that it depicts someone being a strong friend of God.

Sons of a Saintly Father
When ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs was buried in Tarīm at the sāda’s graveyard
on maqbarat Zanbal in 865/1461, his four sons were still of infant or adolescent age, with the eldest, the above-introduced Abū Bakr fourteen or fifteen
years old. Abū Bakr (b. 850/1446 or 851/1447), Shaykh (b. between 850/1446
and 855/1451–919/1513), Husayn (861/1457–917/1511), and ‘Alawī (date of
birth and death unknown) all stemmed from different mothers, but only
Abū Bakr’s mother was of Bā ‘Alawī descent, the others coming from local
Hadrami families.
Abū Bakr’s noble birth from both parents and the fact that he followed
15 His orientation towards the writings of al-Ghazālī (d. 505/1111) is not formulated
verbatim in this treatise, yet preserved in several of his dicta: see e.g. Kharid,
Ghurar, p. 414.
16 “Lā ilāha illā llāh – allāh allāh – huwa huwa,” see ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, al-Kibrīt,
pp. 75-79.
17 Most of theses early works are only known by author, title and description given by
Hadrami sāda-hagiography from the sixteenth century onwards.
18 For the different speculations about the surname in Hadrami sources see E. Peskes,
Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 44-45. An etymological explanation draws a parallel
with the Arabic four-radical ‘- t-r-s (noun or adjective ‘atras = physically strong, of
broad breast and and epithet of the lion; verb ‘atrasa = to take violently) and defines
“‘Aydarūs” as someone strong as a lion (the first in the hierarchy of animals) in
Sufism; see M. al-Shillī Bā ‘Alawī, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī, vol. 2, p. 152. It is perhaps
this interpretation Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs alludes to when he compares his father to a
lion in his poetry, yet using another word for the king of the animals (al-layth alhamus); see Dīwān Abī Bakr al-‘Aydarus, f. 71a. For the root’s semantics in general
see also Ibn Manzūr, Lisān al-‘arab, Beirut, 1968, vol. 6, p. 130.

130

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

his father as head of the family were two social factors probably helping
much to pave his way to a greater fame as Sufi and saint, when compared to
his brothers. And this fame is the reason why the sources focus mainly on
19
him. Moreover, other than his brothers, he himself left writings which can
serve to answer the question how he was influenced by his father and the
latter’s saintly prestige.
The rare impressions of a personal relationship between ‘Abd Allāh
al-‘Aydarūs and his eldest son are, due to the written testimonies’ character,
settled in the Sufi domain. Abū Bakr himself outlines a scenery in which he,
as a boy of nine or ten, was given a Sufi khirqa or affiliation from another
20
Bā ‘Alawī together with the permission to pass it on. He mentions explicitly the presence of his father and also his mother as witnesses to this important act which seemingly was an official introduction into Bā ‘Alawī
Sufism. Whereas the circle of witnesses was small and familial in this case, it
became much larger on occasion of the transfer of his father’s khirqa to him
in Rajab 865/April 1461. This was only two months before his father’s death.
Whether his father knew his end was near is not clear, but the scenery Abū
Bakr describes reminds of a formal authorization as spiritual successor, with
many influential male witnesses of Sufi background, from Hadramawt and
21
Yemen, present.
These two scenes highlight important socio-religious rituals by which
the father led his son to follow his footsteps in a particular segment of society and finally to inherit his spiritual authority. Yet another glimpse at their
relationship reveals the father’s attempts to direct the son’s Sufi education
and to influence his Sufi worldview. As mentioned above, ‘Abd Allāh
al-‘Aydarūs rejected monistic tendencies in Sufism, and thus it is not surprising that he forbade his juvenile son to read Ibn ‘Arabī’s K. al-Futūhāt al22
makkiyya while he himself had studied it. From a later point of view, the
educational measurement proved fruitless. Not only did other close relatives

19 Beside his poetry collected in his Dīwān a treatise on his Sufi affiliations K. Khirqat
al-tasawwuf (also known as al-Juz’ al-latīf fī l-tahkīm al-sharīf (The fine collection
on the noble Sufi initiation), MS. Istanbul, Tekkeler Murat 314, f. 56-83a) and Sufi litanies (e.g. Wird Abī Bakr b. ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarus, MS. Istanbul, Süleymaniye
Kütüphanesi, Yazma Bağışlar, 2180/2, f. 5b-7a) .
20 K. Khirqat al-tasawwuf, f. 72a.
21 Ibid., f. 71b.
22 This interdiction is reported on the authority of one of Abū Bakr’s intimates; cf. M.
al-Shillī, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī, vol. 2, p. 34; M. Kharid, Ghurar, p. 222.

131

ESTHER PESKES

study the books of Ibn ‘Arabī, but Abū Bakr himself became known in his
23
adult years as his well-versed exegete.
These are the few instances that reveal a personal relationship between
the first al-‘Aydarūs and his eldest son. Additionally, one of his father’s attitudes influenced Abū Bakr’s life directly and also left an imprint on his profile as Sufi. As seen earlier, ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs was a man of wealth. He
spent this wealth, mainly to fund the circle of his followers, but partly also
24
for an expensive personal style of life. Therefore, at the time of his death,
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs was highly indebted. Even though not obliged by Islamic law, Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs took on these debts. This must have been
the proof, in many of his contemporaries’ view, that he acknowledged his
patrimony in all its facets and was entirely his father’s legitimate inheritor.
Paying the paternal debts seems to have been much more than an honest, private gesture. This is evident from verses in which Abū Bakr connected his proceeding with an attitude of generosity allegedly inherent in his
noble forefathers in general. Pretending to emulate this attitude of theirs
was an important tool in establishing his own saintly aura, particularly at
the height of his career when he had settled in the port city of Aden:
“I am a son of those whose generosity embraces all humans – so
that they talk about it in the circles of all brokers;
I am the generous, son of ‘Abd Allāh– whenever a generous deed
is displayed, I am its displayer;
I am al-‘Aydarūs, thus a son of Fātima – a noble following from
an uninterrupted chain of nobles;
Can’t you see that I payed the debts of my father – which were
25
thirty thousand Dinar…”
Other than his brothers of whom only Husayn left Hadramawt temporarily
for a pilgrim’s and student’s journey to the Haramayn, Abū Bakr migrated
26
from his homeland about 888/1483 never to return.
23 M. al-Shillī, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī, vol. 2, p. 35-6.
24 Personal luxury is not mentioned in the earliest hagiographies, but in M. al-Shillī’s
K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī (vol. 2, p. 162) which resumes the Bā ‘Alawī’s hagiographical
tradition.
25 See Dīwān Abī Bakr al-‘Aydarus, f. 29b.
26 His step might have been caused by a conflict between rivalling political parties at
Tarīm.

132

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

The migrant, then in his late thirties, could count on influential help on
the part of a Bā ‘Alawī relative who had settled north of Aden amidst the
rural population, held in highest esteem and financially rewarded by the
Sunni Tāhirid sultans (858/1454–923/1517) of Yemen as a socio-religious au27
thority helping to keep the local population under control. He paved Abū
Bakr’s way to the Tāhirid circles. At his death in 889/1484, Abū Bakr took
over his position for a short while and then moved to the thriving port of
Aden, as a favorite of the Tāhirids but not on their regular payroll.
Being a Bā ‘Alawī, thus a regional Sunni descendant of the Prophet, and
one of their most famous Sufi’s son was the basis on which Abū Bakr could
build his life in Southern Yemen, at last much more successfully than he
probably could have been in Hadramawt. He himself spoke about the differ28
ence in wealth between him and his brother Husayn, who led a respected,
but unobtrusive life as one of many in a milieu with a steadily growing
number of saints or friends of God of sāda extraction from different Bā ‘Alawī lineages which rivalled for status after the successful establishment of
the sāda-silsila. Husayn became a respected Sufi, jurist and teacher at his
own mosque at Tarīm – one out of a multitude of familial mosques of the Bā
‘Alawī.
But saintly fame and fortune on the basis of belonging to the family of
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs were concentrated at Aden. In the remaining two
and a half decades of his life, Abū Bakr became one of the most distinctive
Sufis of his time there, afterwards the only one whose veneration lasted for
centuries after his death as “Saint of Aden”, even during the town’s decline
from medieval prosperity to near-extinction at the beginning of the nine29
teenth century.
30
Ingredients of his success were of different sorts. His involvement in
the port city’s economy probably was of a passive kind, as mediator, religious advisor and spiritual guide for merchants and the ruling class. Gratifications were given for such services as well as votive offerings for him as
27 For this man, ‘Umar b. ‘Abd al-Rahmān known as “Sāhib al-Hamrā’” (d. 889/1484 in
Ta‘izz), see E. Peskes, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, p. 57f.
28 See ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir ‘an akhbār al-qarn al-‘āshir, Beirut,
1985, p. 89.
29 For modern impressions of his graveside, see E. Peskes, “Der Heilige,” p. 41 and E.
Ho, Graves, pp. 5-7. For the history of Aden, cf. the article “Aden” in Enc. Islam 3,
2007, online edition.
30 For the following description, see E. Peskes, “Der Heilige,” pp. 43-44, and al-‘Aidarus
und seine Erben, pp. 59-60.

133

ESTHER PESKES

special friend of God. These and other takings enabled him to set up his residence as the seat of a socio-religious authority amidst a network of important social contacts reaching up to the Tāhirid sultans. But not least, he attracted also the lower strata of society in the interest of the ruling class.
Various sources depict him as loving personal luxury, but also as very generous towards the poor, slaves and deprived, trying to discipline their morals by paying them for keeping vigils.
In the field of formal Sufi organization, Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs was less
active at Aden. Affiliation to the unique Bā ‘Alawī-silsila did neither in Hadramawt nor Aden exclude affiliation to other Sufi brotherhoods. Still a juvenile, Abū Bakr had been initiated into a Hadrami Qādirī circle in 867/1463,
and in 887/1482 he received further affiliations to Qādiriyya, Rifā‘iyya, Suhrawardiyya and Kāzarūniyya, all from one Hadrami Sufi only, thus accumulating initiations in a more or less formal-decorative way which was a wide31
spread custom. Apart from one Shādhilī affiliation he took from a NorthAfrican Sufi who visited him in 903/1498, no comparable activities of his at
32
Aden are mentioned.
Nevertheless, other than his father, he focussed on the topic of Sufi initiation in a written treatise in which he enumerated his own affiliations, thus
depicting his quantitative quality as a Sufi master, and outlined a system of
graduated initiations according to Sufi adepts’ backgrounds, intentions and
abilities. Seemingly, this reflected his own procedures in attracting serious
students as well as interested, educated laymen and simple followers. In
ritual formalities, he explicitly, but without many details, referred to his
33
father’s practices as well as to the latter’s dhikr, as already mentioned in
the introducing verses.
Taken together, the sources describe a Sufi personality of a rather independent stance in Adenese society who distinguished himself from others
on the basis of his noble birth and particular saintly heritage while coopting
recent trends in Sufism. Beside the many verses of praise for father and
noble descent, Abū Bakr made poetry his literary medium to transport the
message of a balanced Sufism based on the sharī‘a and shunning monistic
and ecstatic extravagancies. Hence he was in line with his father’s sober attitude in content, if not in literary form. But, other than his father, Abū Bakr
at least displayed some humane understanding for famous exponents of
31 Ibid., pp. 50, 52-53.
32 Ibid., p. 61.
33 Ibid., pp. 193-195.

134

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS
34

such dangerous trends like Ibn ‘Arabī or al-Hallāj which refers back to the
above-mentioned paternal reservations about his juvenile son’s reading.
In summary, in dealing with his father’s spiritual and material heritage,
Abū Bakr revealed himself as preserving, emulating, moderatly adapting to
new circumstances, and, in the end, enhancing it. To him also, neither close
relationships with the political elite were obstacles to Sufi progress and becoming a friend of God, nor were wealth and luxury if only spent on the
Sufi path. He followed his father’s model closely when he became highly indebted at the end of his life. Help could not be found with the Tāhirid sultans, so his debts were at last taken over by son and son-in-law. Thus the
burden of demonstrative generosity continued into a new generation.
This could go on only as long as economic resources were abundant. In
times of economic dearth the name al-‘Aydarūs as enhanced by Abū Bakr was
the capital to live on as the later history of descendants of ‘Abd Allāh al‘Aydarūs in slowly declining and impoverishing Aden shows. After Abū
Bakr’s death in 914/1509, a sepulchre and a ribāt were built by high-ranking
and still well-to-do followers from the Tāhirid political elite. In this structure, first his son, then his descendants by his daughter’s marriage with his nephew ‘Abd Allāh b. ‘Alawī took over the direction under increasing modest
35
circumstances. After the Ottomans conquered Aden in 945/1538, Abū Bakr’s
fame as “Saint of Aden” and with him the name “al-‘Aydarūs” spread also in
36
Ottoman and Arab pro-Ottoman circles beyond Yemen and Hadramawt
while Aden completely lost its importance to al-Mukhā at the Red Sea coast.

In Search of New Opportunities:
The Saintly Fame of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs taken to India
Hadramawt, a homeland full of saints
Success in life, if measured by saintly and posthumous fame, was unevenly
distributed among the sons of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs. Abū Bakr, the eldest
34 Dīwān Abī Bakr al-‘Aydarus, f. 127b.
35 For details see E. Peskes, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 62-63, 96-99.
36 Attesting to that is the fact that a high-ranking Ottoman naval leader found his last
resting-place in 1565 in the cupola of Abū Bakr’s sepulchre; cf. Sālim b. Muhammad
al-Kindī, Tārīkh Hadramawt al-musammā bil-‘Udda al-mufīda al-jāmi‘a li-tawārīkh
qadīma wa-hadītha, 2 vols., Sanaa, 1991, vol. 1, p. 211. The pro-Ottoman Meccan historian Qutb al-Dīn al-Nahrawālī (d. 1582) described Abū Bakr’s influence as a saint
helping the Ottoman army to reconquer Aden in 1569 and the high esteem in which
he was held by them in his K. al-Barq al-yamānī fī l-fath al-‘uthmānī, Beirut, 1986,
pp. 251-252.

135

ESTHER PESKES

and noblest of birth, doubtless would have ranked highest on such a scale of
success, followed by Husayn.
Of the other two, ‘Alawī is even more shadowy than Shaykh; he is mentioned in the sources only as link to descendants who by marriage took over
the heritage of Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs at Aden. Shaykh also became most important for the later development as such a genealogical joint. He, who
seemingly never left Hadramawt, was like his brothers educated in Shāfi‘ī
fiqh and introduced to Bā ‘Alawī Sufism, but obviously did not hold any
noteworthy position like Husayn in Tarīm; hence the sources describe his
life only sketchily. Nevertheless, they explicitly mention that both Husayn
and Shaykh were buried beneath their father’s grave in his cupola, so that
by the second decade of the sixteenth century a distinct al-‘Aydarūs-graveside was about to emerge. It filled continuously, until a century later it was
enlarged by a new cupola built for a great-grandson of Shaykh who had
37
been the most important al-‘Aydarūs of his time in Hadramawt.
The four sons of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs became ancestors to four genealogical lines of al-‘Aydarūs. These lines are easily distinguishable, due to
the sources’ punctiliousness concerning the details of descent of each member of the Bā ‘Alawī ever presented. Furthermore, even though informations
are often of a meagre kind, the many individual cases described by the
sources contribute to contour the profiles of the lines at large as they developed through three centuries. Arranged synoptically, the data have one
clear result: the group’s internal genealogical division into four lines is
mirrored in some basic dissimilarities which account for a socio-religious
heterogeneity of the descent group altogether.
Differences are most obvious in terms of residency. As mentioned before, Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs settled at Aden and his descendants in the male
line soon died out in the second generation after him. The vacancy at Aden
was filled when the son of ‘Alawī al-‘Aydarūs, the least important of the
four brothers, married into Abū Bakr’s line. At the end of the sixteenth century at latest, no more posterity of Abū Bakr and ‘Alawī was resident in Hadramawt. Both lines had migrated to Aden, and their members lived there,
according to the circumstances, as petty saints participating in the heritage
of a great name and watching over the grave of the “Saint of Aden” from
which they earned their living.
Hence, from the lines of Husayn and Shaykh stemmed at first most,
37 See E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 63, 94-95.

136

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

then, since the seventeenth century, all “al-‘Aydarūs” whom the sources
mention as permanently resident in Hadramawt. The fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries had brought fourth a general increase of members of the Bā ‘Alawī
in Hadramawt, and the descent-group going back to ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs
was only one of several which claimed most noble descent and spiritual in fluence based on the sāda-silsila. If ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs had been a
widely acknowledged primus inter pares amidst the Bā ‘Alawī, none of his
38
sons nor their posterity did reach such a prominent position again.
In their economic options, the al-‘Aydarūs did not differ from other Bā
‘Alawī who were landowners, planters, traders and Shāfi‘ī scholars. More
often than not they had several occupations. Religious reputation as descendants of the Prophet and as Sufis opened up further sources of income as
socio-religious authority, as learned Sufi teacher of more or less saintly
renown in one of the few towns such as Tarīm or as a saint in his holy precinct (hawta), venerated and dreaded by the tribal population in the rural
districts of Hadramawt. From the middle of the sixteenth century, new economic opportunities were found increasingly in migration overseas which
39
had not been very widespread before. And migration became an important
difference between the two strong Hadrami lines of al-‘Aydarūs, as some
members of Shaykh’s line began to settle permanently or temporarily in India while the members of Husayn’s line, as far as they are mentioned in the
sources, did not engage in migration and spread only in Hadramawt.
Migration also had an economic impact which influenced the further development of the two lines also in Hadramawt. Shaykh’s Hadrami posterity
remained centered on Tarīm and some of them prospered there considerably
40
by receiving financial revenues from close relatives who had migrated. In
contrast, the number of Husain’s descendants diminished at Tarīm. Instead,
they opened up new opportunities in other, namely more rural parts of
Wādī Hadramawt by building settlements for the extended families of the
41
outbranching line.
38 The most outstanding in this respect was ‘Alī Zayn al-‘Ābidīn b. ‘Abd Allāh b.
Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh b. Shaykh (d. 1041/1632) who, albeit against some resistance,
temporarily succeeded in taking over leading functions in the Bā ‘Alawī’s internal
direction, see ibid., pp. 104-105.
39 For individual migrations before or at the time of Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs, see ibid.,
pp. 56-57; for Bā ‘Alawī’s migrations since the second half of the sixteenth century,
see ibid., p. 111.
40 For details, see ibid., pp. 90-91.
41 For this development and the establishment of the new settlements of Thibī, al-Hazm,
Būr and probably Tāriba by members of Husayn’s line, see ibid., pp. 113-116, 137-140.

137

ESTHER PESKES

The differences in terms of residency and, therewith connected, uneven
economic opportunities account for part of the heterogeneity of the profiles
the al-‘Aydarūs developed as socio-religious authorities with some sort of
saintly aura. But they do not explain all the variations.
The hagiographies’ descriptions of Hadrami al-‘Aydarūs-members range
from the sober Sufi master and jurist with a circle of adepts of sāda and nonsāda and even non-Hadrami origin in the urban setting of Tarīm (‘Abd Allāh
42
b. Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh b. Shaykh (d. 1020/1611) from Shaykh’s line ) to his
influential counterpart in a rural settlement (‘Alawī b. ‘Abd Allāh Sāhib
43
Thibī (d. 1055/1645) from Husayn’s line ) who attracted the learned and unlearned with his charismatic personality and saintly aura. They present descriptions of individual al-‘Aydarūs of a soberly secluded saintly profile
lacking appeal to the masses (Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh b. Shaykh (d. 1005/
44
1597) from Shaykh’s line ) and of ecstatic extrovert Sufis performing
nightly samā‘-processions in the streets of Tarīm (‘Abd Allāh b. Ahmad b.
45
Husayn (d. 1025/1616) from Husayn’s line ). Many Sufi trends converged in
Hadramawt, in the non-sāda’s and the sāda’s milieus which overlapped each
other in several ways, and being a descendant of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs did
not mean to necessarily follow a narrowly confined sober Sufi program. Partaking of the great saint’s fame was a birthright to build on, but individual
options according to each specific social context shaped individual saintly
46
profiles which could even change within a lifetime.
While the hagiographical sources fortunately describe these varieties
within the descent-group of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs in Hadramawt, unfortunately writings of its members there are lacking which could explain in
more detail how they exploited their ancestor’s fame for their own purposes. Such writings are lacking not because they are lost, but because they
were obviously never written. Writing as declaration of one’s own Sufi way
as an al-‘Aydarūs became anchored in the migrants’ milieus, such as Abū
Bakr al-‘Aydarūs at Aden or, as will be discussed below, several al-‘Aydarūs
in India and later in Egypt. In narrow Hadramawt, there was no need to produce writings about the peculiarities of a Sufi tradition everybody knew by
enculturation.
42
43
44
45
46

Ibid., pp. 92-94.
Ibid., pp. 115-116.
Ibid., p. 95.
Ibid., pp. 95-96.
A development from secluded Sufi in Tarīm to charismatic authoritity and teacher of
masses in Tibī is described for ‘Alawī b. ‘Abd Allāh Sāhib Thibī (see fn. 43).

138

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

The way to India
The first step which paved the way for the migration to India was taken by
a great-grandson of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh b. Shaykh
(d. 990/1582), in 958/1551. Compared to other al-‘Aydarūs of his generation,
Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh probably was best prepared for a living abroad. Being
the eldest of five brothers and a Bā ‘Alawī in descent from both sides, he had
spent some years as a young man in Mecca and the Yemenī towns of Zabīd
47
and Aden and had studied under several noteworthy scholars of his time.
A certain amount of cosmopolitanism and contacts to scholars who had
been to India seem to have favoured his decision to leave Hadramawt thirteen years after he had taken over his father’s place at Tarīm. He left a family in Hadramawt – two sons and a daughter and his wife of Bā ‘Alawī descent – and settled in the province of Gujarat in north-western India, never
to return. In the thirty years he spent there, he moved between the Gujarati
capital Ahmadabad and the port city of Surat. The final decade of his life he
passed mainly in Ahmadabad where he was buried in his house in 990/ 1582.
Times were politically troubled in Gujarat when the power of the Gujarati Sultans was waning and the aspiring Moguls took over the province in
980/1572-3, but economically thriving enough for Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh to
build up a prosperous existence. The entrance to Gujarati society took place
on an upper class level with contacts to members of the Gujarati political
and social elite: being an Arab and a Sunni descendant of the Prophet
Muhammad ranked high in Muslim Gujarat.
Furthermore, beside becoming sort of an entrepreneur in maritime
transport and trade between India and Hadramawt as shipowner, Shaykh b.
‘Abd Allāh brought into action the reputation of inspired Sufi sainthood in
the tradition of his ancestor ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs. In his house in Ahmadabad, he gathered around him a circle of followers, particularly Arab migrants of Meccan and Hadrami origin as well as his sons who came to India
for a visit (‘Abd Allāh) or to stay (Ahmad); additionally he had a strong appeal to high-ranking Indian Muslims also who revered him and were interested in his saintly invocation of God.
Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh did not adhere to any Sufi organization, instead
installed himself as an independent Sufi authority, in this much resembling
47 Outstanding among his teachers are the Shāfi‘ī scholars Abū l-‘Abbās b. Hajar alHaytamī (d. 974/1567 in Mecca) and ‘Abd al-Rahmān b. al-Dayba’ (d. 944/1537 at
Zabīd); E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 77-78. For Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh’s
life at large see ibid., pp. 77-89.

139

ESTHER PESKES

his great-uncle Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs at Aden. How he played on his descent from ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs becomes clear in verses he composed to
highlight his own quality as a medium for any seeking of closeness to God
(tawassul), using a Qur’ānic term for prophetic electedness to form the epithet for his great-grandfather:
“It is enough for me to pride myself on my ancestor and father,
for mine is a regard high above the heights of the stars of Ursa
Minor (Smaller Bear);
Because my descent links me to the chosen one (al-mustafā, i.e.
the Prophet) and the son of his daughter [al-Husayn];
Father on father, from the master of God’s messengers to al-‘Aydarūs, the elected one (al-mujtabā), the best, the noble;
The legacy of the best of creation, of Ahmad [the Prophet], our
ancestor, through him we climb to the heights where things are
48
decided …”
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, the Hadrami saint, was present also in the minds of
Shaykh’s followers in India, if only to compare their venerated master to his
great-grandfather, seeing him as the latter’s saintly rebirth, as verses of an
admiror show:
“The master of mankind, the beneficial for all searchers of mystical truth, the ocean of knowledge, the high-ranking God-knowing
gnostic;
Son of the pure, father of the shining star, the elected one (almujtabā), the Sufi pole of the time (qutb al-zamān), the second
49
al-‘Aydarūs (al-‘Aydarūs al-thānī)…”
Verses like these probably were commonly recited in the circle that
gathered around Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs to profit from his inborn qualities and
rank as Sufi. Perhaps such verses were also recited on the ship Shaykh
48

‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 337. For other parts of his tawassul-poems see ibid., p. 336 and M. al-Shillī, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī, vol. 2, p. 121. The
Qur’ānic verb “ijtabā” describes God’s election of individual prophets such as
Ibrāhīm (Qur’ān 16, 121), Yūnus (68, 50), Yūsuf (12, 6) or Ādam (20, 122; not explicitly deemed prophet in the Qur’ān, but only in the traditions) and in general (3,
179).
49 ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 339.

140

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

al-‘Aydarūs owned which he had named “al-‘Aydarūsī” (“belonging to
al-‘Aydarūs”), displaying trust in his own and his ancestor’s saintly aura.
Yet, the ship, its destination and its destiny are only mentioned in the
sources because it sank on its way from Hadramawt to India in 981/1573-4
50
and all passengers, among them also Hadrami sāda, lost their lives. Whether this ship was the only one he owned and the only one bearing this name
is not clear. But it is obvious from the ship’s appellation that “al-‘Aydarūs”
had become a widely known name in the northern Indian Ocean and perhaps sort of a brand in which economic and spriritual features met.
Beside poems in which he made use of his ancestors’, particularly ‘Abd
Allāh al-‘Aydarūs’ legacy, Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs wrote on his personal realization of the allegedly inborn quality as Sufi saint in a commentary to his
51
tawassul-poetry; other Sufi writings of a practical outlook like a litany
(wird), treatises on the Prophet’s birthday (mawlid al-nabī) and his ascension to heaven (mi‘raj) probably were written to direct Sufi ceremonies in
his circle.
Seemingly it was a sober Sufism as recommended by ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs which he taught his followers. The lecture and, even more, the vener52
ation of al-Ghazālī’s Ihyā’ ‘ulum al-dīn was a basic practice in his circle
and said to be rooted in the exalted model’s behaviour: ‘Abd al-Qādir (d.
1038/1628), the Indian-born son of Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh who was twelve
years at his father’s death, later declared that his father had rated the Ihyā’s
53
veneration as a direct legacy of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs.
How Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh rated his great-grandfather’s treatise on
Sufism, the K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar, is not overtly apparent from the sources.
Silence in this matter resembles the case of Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs, but other
than the latter who concentrated on the formalities of affiliations in his only
prose writing on Sufism, Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs authored a treatise with a
more theological dimension, the K. Haqā’iq al-tawhīd bi-sharh tuhfat almurīd (The true nature of God’s unity. A commentary on Present to the no50 See ibid., p. 314; al-Tayyib Muhammad b. ‘Umar Bā Faqīh Bā ‘Alawī, Tārīkh al-Shihr
wa-akhbār al-qarn al-‘āshir, ed. ‘Abd Allāh M. al-Hibshī, Beirut, 1999, p. 408.
51 This commentary bears the title K. al-‘Iqd al-nabawī wa l-sirr al-mustafawī; for his
writings cf. ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 336 and al-Shillī, K. alMashra‘ al-rawī, vol. 2, pp. 120-121.
52 Cf. ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 313.
53 ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, K. Ta‘rīf al-ahyā’ bi-fadā’il al-ihyā’, on the margin of
Abū Hāmid Muhammad al-Ghazālī: K. Ihyā’ ‘ulum al-dīn, 2 vols., Cairo, 1304/1887,
pp. 15-25.

141

ESTHER PESKES
54

vice). In this treatise, the K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar is not mentioned, but sever55
al other authorities quite extensively: beside al-Ghazālī particularly founding figures of the Shādhiliyya-brotherhood with which Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs
56
held an affiliation since his times as a youth in Mecca. Thus it takes no
wonder that his description of the Sufi path differs from that of his greatgrandfather. Whereas the latter remains sometimes very sketchy, Shaykh
al-‘Aydarūs delves into Sufi definitions of God (necessarily existent) and
creature (not necessarily existent) and their relationship, a Sufi ontology
57
within which the Sufi path is placed and explained. But it is not only theological complexity which makes a difference. As compared to ‘Abd Allāh
al-‘Aydarūs (and also Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs), Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs reveals a
larger flexibility concerning entrance to and direction on the Sufi path. For
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, the Sufi path was necessarily the long and laborious
progress from low to high, on which the sālik, the Sufi wanderer, was guided by the Sufi master. For Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs, a second type of Sufi, the
passively attracted one (majdhub), takes prominence over the laborious
type, and the importance given to a long-term and close relationship be58
tween master and adept is reduced. This difference can basically be explained by a general rise of the majdhub-type’s reputation since the end of
59
the fifteenth century in the central Arabic lands, but also by the social demands of a migrant milieu which not always allowed for long-term relationships between master and adept, otherwise and in former times more appreciated.
54 This treatise was conceived as a commentary on one of his Sufi poems bearing the
title tuhfat al-murīd, cf. ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 336. The treatise is extant as manuscript, Sülemaniyye Kütüphanesi, Istanbul, Tekkeler Murat
314, f. 1b-45b.
55 Beside his K. Ihyā’ ‘ulum al-dīn also his K. Mishkāt al-anwār.
56 Shādhilī authorities and writings cited are Abū l-Hasan al-Shādhilī (d. 656/1258;
some dicta and a prayer), Abū l-‘Abbās al-Mursī (d. 686/1287; some dicta) and Ibn
‘Atā‘ Allāh (d. 709/1309; K. al-Hikam and K. Latā’if al-minan). Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’
contacts with the Shādhiliyya dated back to the years 937/1530–939/1532 when he,
in the company of his father, met the Egyptian Shādhilī Muhammad b. Abī l-Hasan
Muhammad al-Bakrī al-Siddīqī (d. 993/1585) and the latter’s father at Mecca where a
mutual relationship of Sufi teaching and learning between the four men came about;
cf. ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 385 and M. al-Shillī, K. al-Mashra‘
al-rawī, vol. 2, p. 119.
57 For a summary of his argument, see E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 222-230.
58 Ibid., pp. 229-230.
59 For the social rise of the majdhub-type see Éric Geoffroy, Le soufisme en Égypte et en
Syrie sous les derniers Mamelouks et les premiers Ottomans, Damascus, Institut
Français d’Etudes Arabes de Damas, 1995, pp. 309-333.

142

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

The evidence to be gained from Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ writings shows
again, like the case of Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs, that there was latitude for the
descendants of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs in building up their profile as saints.
Sufi theology borrowed from distant renown authorities and personal sainthood built on birthright and patrimony: these were ingredients Shaykh
al-‘Aydarūs relied on in shaping his Sufi personality. And, like his famous
great-grandfather and also his great-uncle, he insisted on a sober Sufi way
based on the sharī‘a and drew a clear line against any monistic tendencies, if
only with the help of al-Ghazālī and not referring to the authority of ‘Abd
60
Allāh al-‘Aydarūs.
The latter’s patrimony was taken farther in India by the progeny
Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs had given birth during his Hadrami as well as his Indian
existences, but also by other members of his wider genealogical line, the
descendants of the first Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs.

Hadrami-Indian Transits, Indian Existences
and the al-‘Aydarus Saintly Superstructure:
Various ways of exploiting the same patrimony
‘Abd Allāh (945/1538–1019/1611) and Ahmad (949/1542–1024/1615), the two
elder sons of Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs, were Hadrami-born and of Bā ‘Alawī descent from both sides. In this they differed from Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ youngest son, ‘Abd al-Qādir. He was born in Gujarat from an Indian slave mother
who had been a gift on the part of a well-to-do Gujarati lady to the noble
immigrant. The three sons all were active in their father’s sphere, following
his track, but each at a different place and all differing in their ways to build
up their existences as an al-‘Aydarūs.
‘Abd Allāh as the eldest took over his father’s position in Hadramawt
and became, not least because of the migrant’s financial transfers, the most
61
important al-‘Aydarūs of his time in their Arabian homeland. The life of
Ahmad, the second and least represented son in the sources, symbolizes the
transit from one world to the other: still in his early twenties, he followed
his father to India in 971/1564 and finally settled, at the latter’s death, in
62
Broach, a Gujarati port city only second in importance to Surat. Ahmadabad, Surat and Broach became the residences of Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ des60 See E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, p. 223.
61 Cf. supra fn. 37 (the new al-‘Aydarūs-cupola on maqbarat Zanbal was built for him)
and fn. 42.
62 See E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 85-86.

143

ESTHER PESKES

cendants in the second generation of migrants by the beginning of the seventeenth century. The three Gujarati spheres were divided according to
genealogy, and in each of the places, Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ sons and a grandson individually made use of the name “al-‘Aydarūs,” profiting from its
saintly aura, but also contributing to it.
Ahmad, who most probably also worked for his father’s trans-oceanic
enterprises, had in his youth in Hadramawt established ties with ecstatic
63
Hadrami Sufis. Thus it is no wonder that he developed a reputation as
wonderworking, especially healing, Sufi, known for enraptured mystical
64
states and a particular blessing (baraka), attracting masses at Broach. Unfortunately, there are no writings on his part which could serve to answer
the question in more detail how he made use of his famous name: that he
did so is obvious, and descendants of his were known in Broach for the cen65
turies to come, at least until the middle of the eighteenth century.
Surat became the seat of Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs (d. 970/1562–1030/
1621), a grandson of Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs by his son ‘Abd Allāh. He had migrated from Hadramawt to stay in India for good shortly before his grandfather’s death and took over the latter’s position as head of the family. Due
to the complexities of Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ family-life, Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs first became the guardian for his younger uncle ‘Abd al-Qādir in
Ahmadabad, then settled at Surat while ‘Abd al-Qādir stayed at Ahmadabad.
In the thriving Gujarati port city of Surat, Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs established himself as Sufi in structures for which Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs had
66
laid the foundations. But other than his grandfather (or his famous distant
relative Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs at Aden) he took over a semi-official function
as a Sufi socio-religious authority for which he was funded by a grant
(madad-i ma‘āsh) of the Mogul state which used men like him as mediators
67
between the ruling elite and other, particularly lower strata of society. This
function seems to have been much the same as that of Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs
at Aden, even though the latter did not hold an official post there. Much like
the earlier al-‘Aydarūs, Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs also spent money to attract
followers with an aura of generosity. Likewise, he used the written word to
describe his position and way in Sufism.
63
64
65
66
67

See ibid., pp. 124-125.
Ibid.
Ibid., pp. 154-155.
Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs had built his first mosque at Surat in 971/1564; cf. ibid. p. 83.
Ibid., pp. 118-119.

144

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

Four writings are attributed to him, three of which are known only by
title. But the titles fortunately reveal content and intention: one was a book
about the Yemen, one an abridgement of a famous Hadrami Bā ‘Alawī hagi68
ography, and one a book in praise of his grandfather Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs.
To all probability, the first two books were written to present himself and
his particular saintly background to a public not familiar with the saints of
Hadramawt and South-Arabian setting, and doubtless the name-giving ancestor ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs must have figured prominently in the abridged hagiography. Praising his grandfather finally meant introducing himself
to the Gujarati society through his genealogical ties with the first al-‘Aydarūs in India ever. The three writings most probably were composed to
stimulate devotion for Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs and his descent-line back to
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs and further back to the Prophet.
The fourth writing, which is extant, bears the title Īdāh asrār ‘ulum almuqarrabīn (An exposition of the secrets of the knowledge of God’s intimates) and seemingly was written after the final settlement in Surat. It is a
treatise for the instruction of adepts entering on the Sufi path and reveals
some characteristical features of Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs’ profile as Sufi au69
thority. Other than in his grandfather’s K. Haqā’iq al-tawhīd, it is again the
sālik, the laborious wanderer, who represents the ideal Sufi. This Sufi is a
man amidst society, a personality apt to meet the demands of life and to
combine a deep religious way with worldly interests (masālih dunyawiyya).
The classic Sufi domestication of man’s lower nature is the entrance to a religious formation of the human character which should result in a medium
position between extremes. A sound scepticism concerning contacts with
political leaders should not lead to denial of cooperation when necessary. In
all, Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs in this writing is very much that sort of socio-religious hinge between the strata of society his position as receiver of a
state-grant requested. A pragmatical vein runs through the treatise, and no
Sufi meta-authorities are cited to establish connections with preceding Sufi
trends as did Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs. But similar to him, there is also no reference to theological positions as exposed in writings of earlier al-‘Aydarūs,
such as the superior ancestor’s K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar. Being “al-‘Aydarūs” as
68 The titles are mentioned in ‘Aydarūs b. ‘Umar al-Hibshī, ‘Iqd al-yawāqīt al-ja
whariyya wa-simt al-‘ayn al-dhahabiyya bi-dhikr tarīq al-sāda al-‘alawiyya, second
ed. Singapore, 1402/1982, vol. 2, p. 110: Kitāb fī Fadā’il al-Yaman, Mukhtasar al-Ghurar (= M. Kharid Bā ‘Alawī’s Ghurar al-bahā’ al-dawī, see above fn. 13) and Kitāb fī
manāqib jaddihi Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh.
69 For a summary, see E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 233-243.

145

ESTHER PESKES

a Sufi was again a matter more of genealogical than of theological legitimation.
At the same time, when Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs established himself at
Surat as Sufi authority attached to the Mogul state, his younger uncle ‘Abd
al-Qādir led his life as an “al-‘Aydarūs” in Ahmadabad without his Hadrami
– pure Arab and pure sāda – relatives. According to his own autobiograpical
account as well as to his biographers, he never left India for a visit of his
70
father’s homeland or even the hajj. But, being educated in his father’s tradition, he reveals in his writings his firm designs to build his existence on
being an “al-‘Aydarūs” and inheritor of a most famous ancestor’s tradition.
As mentioned before, he left a description of his father’s devotion for alGhazālī, and this description was part of his own way to expose the peculiar
features of being an “al-‘Aydarūs”. In none of the extant writings of members of the al-‘Aydarūs is there such an attention paid to establishing the
veneration for al-Ghazālī’s Ihyā’ ‘ulum al-dīn as a prominent al-‘Aydarūsritual. To this end, ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs even composed a separate
treatise in which he fulfilled a project allegedly dear to his father: a collection of the sayings of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs concerning al-Ghazālī and his
71
most famous book. In this context, ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs calls the ded72
ication to the Ihyā’ an “‘Aydarūsī heritage” (mīrāth ‘Aydarusī). His eagerness in fixing such a heritage points to a ritualization of what before probably had been a pious reverence for al-Ghazālī’s sober Sufism only. How
much ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs was busy to delineate a particular ‘Aydarūsī tradition becomes further obvious from the title of one of his writings,
namely a K. Fath allāh al-quddus fī manāqib ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarus (God’s
73
most-holy opening concerning the virtues of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs).
Even though he did not finish the tract, he was – taken the Bā ‘Alawī chronists’ testimonies together – the first of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs’ descendants
74
to write down the superiors ancestor’s glorious deeds.
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs and, second after him, his father Shaykh were
70 For the sources on his life, see ibid., p. 89, fn. 100.
71 The title of this treatise is Ta‘rīf al-ahyā’ bi-fadā’il al-ihyā’, see above fn. 53 for bibliographical details; for ‘Abd al-Qādir’s intention in writing the book p. 19.
72 Ibid., p. 20.
73 This title is mentioned in M. al-Shillī, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī, vol. 2, p. 163.
74 Such a manāqib-work had already been composed by one of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs’
followers in the fifteenth century (see M. Kharid, Ghurar, p. 206). Beside that, his
manāqib were gathered in the common all-encompassing Bā ‘Alawī hagiographies
such as the K. Ghurar al-bahā’ from which Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs made an
abridgement.

146

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

‘Abd al-Qādir’s basis for his own socio-religious reputation. This is obvious
in verses of his similar to those of other al-‘Aydarūs already cited:
“Through my master ‘Abd Allāh [al-‘Aydarūs] and his mystical
75
secret (sirr) I obtain whatever I wish”
and
“The moon of true religion, Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh, offspring of
al-‘Aydarūs the elected one (al-mujtabā) and master of [all]
classes [of people];
The Sufi pole of the time (qutb al-zamān), its succour and its
goodness: all do agree on this matter;
Flint at the firewood of superiority, his forefather’s heir: in know76
ledge, in godliness, and in the worthiest descent …”
But despite his manifest efforts to define devotional procedures as a ritual
norm marking “‘Aydarūsism” and getting himself into this lane, ‘Abd alQādir’s success in being an al-‘Aydarūs was not untroubled. Several remarks
77
in his major writing reveal his personal fight for recognition as a full participant in the tradition he described so fervently. Being a muwallad, neither
of pure Arab nor of pure sāda-descent, and a resulting social disadvantage
as compared to his agnates are themes repeatedly shining through the sur78
face of proudness on being an al-‘Aydarūs.
The Hadrami hagiographical prosopography’s data on the contemporary
Bā ‘Alawī travelling to India corroborate this evidence from another perspective. Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs at Surat was the al-‘Aydarūs in India they
visited frequently, while his uncle ‘Abd al-Qādir at Ahmadabad, though
senior in the genealogy, was often left aside and remained at the margin of
79
the Hadrami Arab sāda-network. ‘Abd al-Qādir seemingly lived independently on the properties he inherited from his father in Ahmadabad, but was
not able to extend his influence beyond the first immigrant’s aura as socio 75 ‘Abd al-Qādir al-‘Aydarūs, al-Nur al-sāfir, p. 421.
76 Ibid., p. 330.
77 Verses as well as his autobiographical sketch in the K. al-Nur al-sāfir (for bibliographical details see above fn. 28), his centennial historiography of the tenth/roughly
sixteenth century which focusses much on the history of his family and its milieu.
78 See for this E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 247-256.
79 See ibid., pp.120-121. ‘Abd al-Qādir’s offspring, namely his son Shaykh, is not even
mentioned in the Hadrami sources.

147

ESTHER PESKES

religious authority. He was buried beside his father in the latter’s mauso80
leum in 1038/1628. By the end of the seventeenth century, his progeny had
81
left Ahmadabad to join the other al-‘Aydarūs at Surat which had become
the centre of the lineage’s activities under Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs. Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs gathered around him not only travelling or immigrant Bā
‘Alawī, but also had eminent followers in the political and economic elite of
Surat, one of whom erected a sepulchre for the venerated Sufi master and a
82
mosque, both payed for generously through a pious endowment. So known
had he become as a Sufi authority at Surat and so indispensible that the
place of this al-‘Aydarūs henceforth could easily be taken over by other
bearers of the name, yet not his own progeny, but descendants of his younger brother ‘Alī (d. 1041/1632) who at the same time had been the most im83
portant al-‘Aydarūs in their Arab homeland.
Temporary migrations and lasting settlements became characteristic for
the al-‘Aydarūs-group at Surat which never lost its ties with the relatives in
Hadramawt. Furthermore, Surat became a transit station for immigrating
Hadrami al-‘Aydarūs on their way to the Indian hinterland. Attracted by
Muslim potentates (and vassals of the Mogul state) in the Deccan region,
such as the Nizām Shāhs of Ahmadnagar and the ‘Ādil Shāhs of Bijapur,
several members of the lineage of the first Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs
successfully tried to make their fortune in a new environment as scholars,
sāda and Sufis, either temporarily or for good. They found patrons who paid
them generously and became friends of members of the political elite. Their
specific Sufi tradition certainly played a major role for their endeavours, as
84
is obvious from the fact that they wrote treatises on their Sufi affiliation or
translated important earlier writings on the al-‘Aydarūs and Bā ‘Alawī
Sufism such as the first migrant Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ K. al-‘Iqd al-nabawī for

80 Ibid., p. 85 with fn. 54. For his grave see also Omar Khalidi, “Sayyids of Hadhramaut
in Early Modern India,” Asian Journal of Social Science, 32/3, 2004, pp. 329-352, here
p. 333.
81 E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, p. 124 with fn. 235. In the first half of the
eighteenth century, a marriage between a female member of ‘Abd al-Qādir’s line and
a male descendant of Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs is documented in the sources.
82 See ibid., pp. 119-120.
83 See ibid., pp. 103-107.
84 E.g. Shaykh b. ‘Abd Allāh (993/1585-1041/1631), the younger brother of Muhammad
al-‘Aydarūs (for him see E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 126-131) who
wrote a K. al-Silsila at Bijapur which became widely read in Bā ‘Alawī circles (ibid.,
p. 130 with fn. 287).

148

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS
85

a Persian-speaking court. How they exploited their famous name and its
particular saintly aura is not known in detail since the hagiographical
sources focus primarily on their being pure Arab descendants of the Prophet
in a culturally and ethnically doubtful environment.
Even though the Deccan migrations became no enduring feature of the
lineage’s history, Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ step to migration which took the first
al-‘Aydarūs to India in 958/1551 proved to be of centuries-lasting consequences, a fact in which the aura of descent from a famous Hadrami saint
to all evidence played a major role. Still in the eighteenth century the
al-‘Aydarūs were well-known local socio-religious authorities at Surat, and
relatives from Hadramawt kept on visiting the Indian al-‘Aydarūs.

No Good Place for a Bā ‘Alawi Saint? Al-‘Aydarus at Cairo
The directions the al-‘Aydarūs took as migrants in search of new options
mostly point to the east, to India and later on to Indonesia, where Hadrami
sāda and their particular brand of Sufism were welcome: in these regions
the Muslim population was only starting to grow substantiously from the
later Middle Ages onwards and there was no dearth of opportunities for an
86
Arab religious elite. A minority left Hadramawt for other parts of the Arabian Peninsula, such as the Yemen and the Hijāz with Mecca and Medina.
But only one settled, as late as the eighteenth century, beyond the Red Sea
in one of the great centres of the Arab-Islamic civilization, namely Cairo.
Other than the first al-‘Aydarūs going to Yemen or India, the migrant to
Cairo could not pave the way to a lasting presence of his lineage in Egypt,
even though he played on his role as descendant of a famous Hadrami saint
as the other migrants had done.
‘Abd al-Rahmān b. Mustafā al-‘Aydarūs (1135/1722–1192/1778) also belonged to Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs’ lineage, the one most inclined to migration
between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries. Fitting well into the para85 For the K. al-‘Iqd al-nabawī, a commentary on a tawassul-poem, see above fn. 51.
The translation was prepared at the court of Ahmadnagar in Daulatabad by Ja‘far alSādiq b. ‘Alī (997/1589-1064/1653), a nephew of Muhammad al-‘Aydarūs who later
took over the position of his uncle at Surat (for him see ibid., pp. 131-133).
86 Many other Bā ‘Alawīs went in the same direction and still others, for the same reasons, migrated to East Africa. For historical aspects of the East African migration see
B.G. Martin, “Arab Migrations to East Africa in Medieval Times,” African Historical
Studies, 7/3, 1975, pp. 367-390 and the first chapter of Anne K. Bang, Sufis and Scholars of the Sea. Family Networks in East Africa 1860-1925, London, RoutledgeCurzon,
2003. Further examples of Bā ‘Alawī migrations to India are discussed in O. Khalidi,
Sayyids.

149

ESTHER PESKES

digm of exchange between homeland and mahjar which had become characteristic for the group of his near agnates since the sixteenth century, ‘Abd
al-Rahmān b. Mustafā, born and educated at Tarīm, spent some time as a
youth visiting his relatives at Surat (and also Broach), probably between
87
1151/1738 and 1153/1740. But the economic and political conditions of Sur88
at by then had been continually declining for some time. This might have
been one reason why he neither stayed in India nor returned, but soon after
in 1156/1743 had left Hadramawt for the Hijāz and then, in 1174/1761, went
to Cairo.
Like some of his forebears, ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs left writings
which articulate a clear design to build up a Sufi reputation based on the
first al-‘Aydarūs and a genealogical transfer of the latter’s saintly aura
through the ages. Already as a young man settled in Medina, he wrote about
a “tarīqa ‘Aydarūsiyya” in his al-Nafha al-madaniyya fī l-adhkār al-qalbiyya
wa l-ruhiyya wa l-sirriyya fī l-tarīqa al-‘Aydarusiyya, sketching the outlines
of a particular way of the ‘Aydarūs-group in Sufism which he amplified fur89
ther in his later writings.
As the title of his first treatise indicates – “The Medinan gift: The recollections of God, in heart, spirit and innermost secret, on the ‘Aydarūsī Sufi
way” – he concentrated on the form of dhikr as a special feature of the Sufi
tradition of those named al-‘Aydarūs. More explicit than in any of the earlier al-‘Aydarūs’ writings, the “Medinan gift” goes back – partly verbatim – to
the depiction of the tripartite dhikr as given by ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs in
90
his K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar. Taking the great ancestor’s words as the basis of
legitimation, ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs nevertheless adapts his interpretation of the dhikr’s meaning to Sufi theological patterns not at all discussed
by ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, but drawing near to a model of the immaterial
87 Cf. E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 154-155.
88 During the first half of the eighteenth century the province of Gujarat slipped from
Mogul authority. In Surat, first a local potentate, then the British, seated at Bombay
since the second half of the seventeenth century, took over rule. While Bombay became the new economic centre at the western coast, Surat’s fortunes were waning.
See William H. Moreland, From Akbar to Aurangzeb. A Study in Indian Economic History, London, Macmillan 1923, p. 246; Balkrishna Govind Gokhale, Surat in the Seventeenth Century, London-Malmö, Curzon Press 1979, pp. 114, 161.
89 From this and other writings becomes clear that ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs understood the term “tarīqa” more in the sense of “path persued” than in the sense of
“brotherhood” with its strong organizational implications.
90 Astonishingly, ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs’ dhikr which doubled “allāh” and “huwa” (see
above fn. 16) looses the doublings in the “Medinan gift”.

150

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS
91

world as given by Ibn ‘Arabī. This combination of the claim to his Sufi patrimony with a Sufi ontology not consequently denying monistic thinking
(as ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs and others such as Shaykh al-‘Aydarūs had done)
became a characteristic trait of ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs’ profile as a
Sufi. It is not evident whether he himself thought this might appeal better to
the new circles he connected with outside Hadramawt or took up a trend
already existing in his lineage in the eighteenth century. But the “Medinan
gift” found readers in the Hijāz and even more so in Cairo where it served
‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs as a kind of Sufi “identity card” he presented to
new acquaintancies when he made his first, still only temporary visit to the
92
Egyptian metropolis in 1159/1746.
He introduced himself there explicitly as descendant of al-‘Aydarūs, partaker of a noble silsila and a particular Sufi way, and gave and took affiliations with other Sufi brotherhoods by way of blessing (tabarruk), a common procedure since medieval times for someone to build up a position in
93
the Sufi network. Yet, there were others in Cairo who successfully combined noblest birth, i.e. descent from the Prophet, and Sufi way, namely the
94
Banū l-Wafā’, the members of the local Wafā’iyya brotherhood. This was a
hindrance to become fully accepted as an immigrant exhibiting comparable
qualities, as is manifest in a letter ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs received
95
from one of the Cairene addressees of his “Medinan gift”. The letter hon91
92
93
94

Cf. E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, pp. 257-258.
Ibid., p. 257.
Ibid., pp. 158-159. See also above p. 9 for Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs and his affiliations.
For the beginnings of the Egyptian Wafā’iyya which had its roots in the Shādhiliyya
see J. Spencer Trimingham, The Sufi Orders in Islam, p. 49; E. Geoffroy, Le soufisme,
p. 209; for its role in eighteenth century Cairo see Michael Winter, Egyptian Society
under Ottoman Rule 1517-1798. London-New York, Routledge, 1992, pp. 144-146;
Pierre-Jean Luizard, “Le Moyen-Orient arabe,” in Alexandre Popovic and Gilles Veinstein, eds., Les voies d’Allah. Les ordres mystiques dans l’islam des origines à aujourd’hui, Paris, Fayard, 1996, pp. 342-371, here p. 351. Other than the Bā ‘Alawī, the
Banū l-Wafā’ who branched out from the Shādhilī tradition had a silsila which in its
foundations was not identical with their pedigree; for details on their Sufism and silsila see Richard McGregor, Sanctity and Mysticism in Medieval Egypt. The Wafā’ Sufi
Order and the Legacy of Ibn ‘Arabī, New York, State University of New York Press,
2004, pp. 51-57.
95 The letter is cited in his Dīwān with the title Tanmīq al-sifr fī-mā jarā ‘alayhi walahu fī Misr, printed together with a second Dīwān under the title Tanmīq al-asfār fīmā jarā lahu ma‘a ikhwān al-adab fī ba’d al-asfār. Cairo, 1304/1887, p. 151. The addressee was a Cairine Shāfi‘ī scholar and Sufi named Muhammad Badr al-Dīn Sibt
al-Shurunbābī, about whom otherwise nothing is known (cf. E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus
und seine Erben, pp. 158, 262).

151

ESTHER PESKES

ours the Sayyid coming from the Arabian Peninsula and his noble silsila, but
makes unanimously clear that the local sāda of Banū l-Wafā’ ranked highest
in the milieu of the Prophet’s descendants in Cairo. It indicates the existence
of a hierarchical thinking about the Prophet’s descendants built on parochialism and defense of a local group’s interests.
To ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs, this probably was the most important
obstacle to establish himself successfully in the Egyptian metropolis in his
quality as an al-‘Aydarūs when he settled there finally in 1174/1761. Many
of his writings – treatises on Sufism and poetry collected in his two Dīwāns
– reflect his devotedness to elaborate on his own Sufi heritage, his silsila
and its Hadrami background, and to praise, as the most important inheritors
of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs, his own narrow genealogical segment much
96
more than the whole structure of al-‘Aydarūs-lineages and sub-lineages.
But claiming to be a gifted al-‘Aydarūs, a preserver of the godly secret,
in eighteenth century Cairo did not unfold an appeal comparable to earlier
migrations, such when Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs settled at Aden or Shaykh
al-‘Aydarūs in Gujarat. Even though ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs had several high-ranking acquaintances in Sufi and scholarly circles connected with
the al-Azhar-mosque and its institutions, he could not play a major role or
97
gain more than average reputation and income. If he ever had adherents
around him as a Sufi, they did not rise to any fame and no names are
known. Towards the end of his life, he lived in a well-to-do, but not upper-class quarter and, like many others, reveived a comparably modest stipend on the part of the Ottoman Empire, a favor for which he had travelled
98
to Istanbul as petitioner. Comparably modest was also his grave. He was
buried in 1192/1778 at the entrance to the large mausoleum of Sayyida Zaynab in Cairo, the closest way possible, kinsmanlike, directly beside the locally venerated saint Muhammad al-‘Atrīs, allegedly also a Sayyid and brother of Ibrāhīm al-Dasūqī (d. 687/1288), the founder of the Egyptian Dasū99
qiyya-brotherhood (Burhāmiyya). Most probably, for the majority of the
96 For a list of his writings, some of which are only known by their titles, see E. Peskes,
al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, p. 167. His praise for his genealogical section is particularly elaborated upon in his poetry, see ibid., pp. 259-261.
97 See ibid., pp. 161-166. Contacts with members of the political elite are alluded to
very vaguely by his Egyptian biographer (see ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Jabartī, ‘Ajā’ib alāthār fī l-tarājim wa l-akhbār, 4 vols., Cairo, 1322/1904, vol. 2, p. 30) and, other than
in the case of scholarly contacts, become never concrete.
98 Ibid., p. 166.
99 For a depiction of the grave in its nineteenth century outlook see ‘Alī Pāshā
Mubārak, al-Khitat al-jadīda al-tawfīqiyya li-misr al-qāhira wa-mudunihā wa-bilādi-

152

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

Cairene the name “al-‘Aydarūs” became intermingled with “al-‘Atrīs”, not
100
only in etymological but also in genealogical terms. In the end, ‘Abd alRahmān al-‘Aydarūs remained an immigrant Sayyid who had not succeeded
to become a saint in the name of his forefather and of his own right at
Cairo. And he did not pave a way for others of his kind – if he ever intended
to do so. His only son died in his twenties in 1199/1785 and was buried in
his father’s grave.

Conclusion
For centuries, ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs’ posterity exploited the patrimony of
their eponym, the saintly founding figure, as a resource of an immaterial
kind. His saintly aura and its lasting effectiveness were rooted in the peculiar combination of Sufi-silsila and pedigree as it had generated among the
Hadrami Bā ‘Alawī in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries and in his position and role in this process. Since the fifteenth century, to become acknowledged as a saint or friend of God was a social option among the Hadrami
sāda at large. A saintly profile, if successfully shaped according to the demands and needs of the surrounding society, could provide a basis to live on
unless saints of a comparable quality were abundant. Being a descendant of
‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs not necessarily led to sainthood. Only sāda-descent
from both sides was the basis for the highest respect within the peer-group
and top-ranks within a Sufism that all Bā ‘Alawī claimed as their specific
heritage. To all evidence, competition was fierce within the group in its
homeland. Migration provided for new opportunities to build up existences
around allegedly inborn religious qualities others respected, venerated or
simply purchased for reasons of political legitimization. Theology came only
second after genealogy and provided for the flexibility needed to adapt to
varying circumstances in different regions and ages.
As sainthood is a social institution dependant on human consensus, it
exists as long as its supportive consensus prevails. This is true at large, but
can be seen also in the particular case of the al-‘Aydarūs’ various claims to
hā l-qadīma wa l-shahīra, Cairo, 1304/1886, Pt. 5, pp. 10-11.
100 For speculations about the etymological connection between the roots underlying
the two names see above fn. 18. To elucidate the genealogical identity of ‘Abd alRahmān al-‘Aydarūs, Mubārak (d. 1311/1894) had to draw on the historical work
(Ajā’ib al-āthār fī l-tarājim wa l-akhbār) of ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Jabartī (d. 1825)
whose father Hasan al-Jabartī (d. 1188/1774) had been a personal acquaintance of
al-‘Aydarūs (see E. Peskes, al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben, p. 158). It seems that otherwise there was not enough information on the entombed.

153

ESTHER PESKES

sainthood in the name of their ancestor. On a large scale, the failure of ‘Abd
al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs’ ambitions in the eighteenth century was immediately due to the fact that a metropolis such as Cairo with its own well established milieu of an Arab sāda-Sufism had no need for the qualities he tried
to offer. But beside that, other factors not restricted to the Egyptian environment have to be taken into account also.
On the whole, the century ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs lived in marks
the turn from expansion to decrease in the social institution of the Muslim
Sufi saint as it had developed since the Sufi brotherhoods had come into be101
ing some six hundred years before. “Anti-saint rhetoric,” which had always existed but more as a minority’s opinion, began to win the day, most
obviously in the Wahhābīs’ uncompromising universal attacks on saint veneration since the second half of the eighteenth century and afterwards in an
ever increasing stream of reformist voices propagating an Islam without
saints.
Thus not only the informations on the individual fate of ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-‘Aydarūs, but also on the development in other places in which
al-‘Aydarūs had build up their existences as saints hint at stagnation of the
institution of saintship at first, then at a decline of importance, even though
not at extinction as the preservation of several al-‘Aydarūs-shrines in In102
dia, at Aden and of course in Hadramawt shows. Yet even in Hadramawt
the veneration of the Bā ‘Alawī as saints, among them the al-‘Aydarūs, became severely attacked by the third decade of the twentieth century at
latest, when Muslim reformist claims reached their homeland by way of Indonesia whence sāda-critical Hadrami migrants brought a new ideology
which aimed at annulling any social hierarchies built on descent from the
103
Prophet.
If no longer as saints, many members of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs’ posterity remained important as part of the social elites, a status in society on
which they had worked since centuries, in different regions and in different

101 Alexander Knysh, “The Cult of Saints and Religious Reformism in Hadhramaut,” in
Ulrike Freitag and William Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami Traders, Scholars and
Statesmen in the Indian Ocean, 1750s-1960s, Leiden-New York, Brill, 1997, pp. 199-216,
here p. 200.
102 See the appendix in O. Khalidi, Sayyids, pp. 347-352.
103 Cf. for the whole process Natalie Mobini-Kesheh, “Islamic Modernism in Colonial
Java: The al-Irshād Movement,” in U. Freitag and W. Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami
Traders, pp. 231-248.

154

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS
104

occupations as scholars, politicians or military men. But the saintly patrimony of ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarūs turned into a background-resource and remains so today.

Bibliography
Primary sources
al-‘Aydarūs, Abū Bakr b. ‘Abd Allāh, K. al-Dīwān, MS. Berlin, Staatsbibliothek,
Ahlwardt 7928 (Wetzstein 51).
Id., K. Khirqat al-tasawwuf (also known as al-Juz’ al-latīf fī l-tahkīm al-sharīf),
MS. Istanbul, Tekkeler Murat 314, f. 56-83a.
Id., Wird Abī Bakr b. ‘Abd Allāh al-‘Aydarus, MS. Istanbul, Süleymaniye
Kütüphanesi, Yazma Bağışlar, 2180/2, f. 5b-7a.
al-‘Aydarūs, ‘Abd Allāh, K. al-Kibrīt al-ahmar wa l-iksīr al-akbar, in Muhammad
al ‘Aydarūs, K. Īdāh asrār ‘ulūm al-muqarrabīn, Cairo, 1933, pp. 65-80.
al-‘Aydarūs, ‘Abd al-Qādir, al-Nur al-sāfir ‘an akhbār al-qarn al-‘āshir, Beirut,
1985.
Id., K. Ta‘rīf al-ahyā’ bi-fadā’il al-ihyā’, on the margin of al-Ghazālī, Abū Hāmid
Muhammad: K. Ihyā’ ‘ulum al-dīn, 2 vols., Cairo, 1304/1887.
al-‘Aydarūs, ‘Abd al-Rahmān, Tanmīq al-asfār fī-mā jarā lahu ma‘a ikhwān aladab fī ba’d al-asfār. Cairo, 1304/1887.
Bā Faqīh Bā ‘Alawī, al-Tayyib Muhammad b. ‘Umar, Tārīkh al-Shihr wa-akhbār
al-qarn al-‘āshir, ed. ‘Abd Allāh M. al-Hibshī, Beirut, 1999.
Bā Shaybān Bā ‘Alawī, ‘Umar b. Muhammad, Tiryāq asqām al-qulub al-wāf fī
dhikr hikāyāt al-sāda al-ashrāf, MS. London, British Library, Oriental and
India Office Collection, Or 112.
al-Hibshī, ‘Aydarūs b. ‘Umar, ‘Iqd al-yawāqīt al-jawhariyya wa-simt al-‘ayn aldhahabiyya bi-dhikr tarīq al-sāda al-‘alawiyya, 2 vols., second ed.,
Singapore, 1402/1982.
Ibn Manzūr, Muhammad, Lisān al-‘arab, 15 vols., Beirut, 1968.
al-Jabartī, Abd al-Rahmān, ‘Ajā’ib al-āthār fī l-tarājim wa l-akhbār, 4 vols.,
Cairo, 1322/1904.
Kharid Bā ‘Alawī, Muhammad b. ‘Alī, Ghurar al-bahā’ al-dawī wa-durar aljamāl al-badī‘ al-bahī fī dhikr al-a’imma al-amjād wa l-‘ulamā’ al-‘ārifīn
al-nuqqād wa l-fuqahā’ al-mubarrizīn al-asyād min Banī l-shaykh Basrī

104 Cf. e.g. Mohammed Redzuan Othman, “Hadhramis in the Politics and Administration of the Malay States in the Late Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries,” in U. Freitag and W. Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami Traders, pp. 83-93, esp. pp. 88-89; Omar
Khalidi, “Memoirs of Gen. El-Edroos of Hyderabad,” Quarterly Journal of the Pakistan Historical Society, 42/2, 1994, pp. 182-213 and “Sayyids”, p. 338.

155

ESTHER PESKES

wa-Banī l-shaykh Jadīd wa-Banī l-shaykh al-‘Alawī, ed. ‘Abd al-Qādir alJīlānī b. Sālim b. ‘Alawī Kharid, Cairo, 1985.
al-Kindī, Sālim b. Muhammad, Tārīkh Hadramawt al-musammā bil-‘Udda almufīda al-jāmi‘a li-tawārīkh qadīma wa-hadītha, 2 vols., Sanaa, 1991.
Mubārak, ‘Alī Pāshā, al-Khitat al-jadīda at-tawfīqiyya li-misr al-qāhira wamudunihā wa-bilādihā l-qadīma wa l-shahīra, Cairo, 1304/1886.
al-Nahrawālī, Qutb al-Dīn, K. al-Barq al-yamānī fī l-fath al-‘uthmānī, Beirut,
1986.
al-Sharjī al-Zabīdī, Abū l-‘Abbās Ahmad b. Ahmad b. ‘Abd al-Latīf, Tabaqāt alkhawāss ahl al-sidq wal-ikhlās, ed. ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad al-Hibshī,
Beirut, 19922.
al-Sakhāwī, Muhammad ‘Abd al-Rahmān, al-Daw’ al-lāmi‘ fī a‘yān al-qarn altāsi‘, 12 vols., Beirut, s.d.
al-Shillī Bā ‘Alawī, Muhammad b. Abī Bakr, K. al-Mashra‘ al-rawī fī manāqib alsāda al-kirām Āl Abī ‘Alawī, 2 vols., Cairo, 1319/1901.

Studies
Arendonk, Cornelius van and William Graham, « Sharīf », Enc. Islam, 2, IX, pp.
329-337.
Bang, Anne K., Sufis and Scholars of the Sea. Family Networks in East Africa
1860-1925, London, RoutlegdeCurzon, 2003.
Freitag, Ulrike and William Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami Traders, Scholars
and Statesmen in the Indian Ocean, 1750s-1960s., Leiden-New York, Brill,
1997.
Geoffroy, Eric, Le soufisme en Égypte et en Syrie sous les derniers Mamelouks et
les premiers Ottomans. Orientations spirituelles et enjeux culturels,
Damascus, Institut Français d’Études Arabes, 1995.
Gokhale, Balkrishna Govind, Surat in the Seventeenth Century. A Study in Urban
History of Pre-Modern India, London-Malmö, Curzon Press, 1979.
Gramlich, Richard, Die Wunder der Freunde Gottes. Theologie und
Erscheinungsformen des islamischen Heiligenwunders, Wiesbaden,
Harrassowitz, 1987.
Gril, Denis, “Le miracle en Islam, critère de la sainteté ?,” in Denise Aigle, ed.,
Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 69-81.
Ho, Engseng, The Graves of Tarim. Genealogy and Mobility across the Indian
Ocean, Berkeley-Los Angeles, University of California Press, 2006.
Khalidi, Omar, “Memoirs of Gen. El-Edroos of Hyderabad”, in Quarterly Journal
oft he Pakistan Historical Society, 42/2, 1994, pp. 182-213.
Id., “Sayyids of Hadhramaut in Early Modern India,” Asian Journal of Social
Science, 32/3, 2004, pp. 329-352.
Knysh, Alexander, Ibn ‘Arabī in the Later Islamic Tradition. The Making of a

156

SAINTHOOD AS PATRIMONY: ‘ABD ALLĀH AL-‘AYDARŪS AND HIS DESCENDANTS

Polemical Image in Medieval Islam, New York, State University of New
York Press, 1999.
Id., “The Cult of Saints and Religious Reformism in Hadhramaut,” in Ulrike
Freitag and William Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami Traders, pp. 199-216.
Löfgren, Oskar, “Bā ‘Alawī”, Enc. Islam 2, I, pp. 828-830.
Luizard, Pierre-Jean, « Le Moyen-Orient arabe », in Alexandre Popovic and
Gilles Veinstein, eds., Les voies d’Allah. Les ordres mystiques dans l’islam
des origines à aujourd’hui, Paris, Fayard, 1996, pp. 342-371.
Martin, B.G., “Arab Migrations to East Africa in Medieval Times,” African
Historical Studies, 7/3, 1975, pp. 367-390.
McGregor, Richard, Sanctity and Mysticism in Medieval Egypt. The Wafā’ Sufi
Order and the Legacy of Ibn ‘Arabī, New York, State University of New
York Press, 2004.
Mobini-Kesheh, Natalie, “Islamic Modernism in Colonial Java: The al-Irshād
Movement,” in U. Freitag and W. Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami Traders,
pp. 231-248.
Moreland, William H., From Akbar to Aurangzeb. A Study in Indian Economic
History, London, Macmillan, 1923.
Othman, Mohammed Redzuan, “Hadhramis in the Politics and Administration
of the Malay States in the Late Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries,” in
U. Freitag and W. Clarence-Smith, eds., Hadhrami Traders, pp. 83-93.
Peskes, Esther, Al-‘Aidarus und seine Erben. Eine Untersuchung zu Geschichte
und Sufismus einer hadramitischen sāda-Gruppe vom fünfzehnten bis zum
achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Stuttgart, Franz Steiner Verlag, 2005.
Id., “Der Heilige und die Dimensionen seiner Macht. Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs
und die saiyid-sūfīs von Hadramawt,” Quaderni di Studi Arabi, 13, 1995,
pp. 41-72.
Serjeant, Robert B., The Saiyids of Hadramawt, London, University of Cambridge
Press, 1957.
Trimingham, John Spencer, The Sufi Orders in Islam, London-Oxford-New York,
Clarendon Press, 1971.
Winter, Michael, Egyptian Society under Ottoman Rule 1517–1798, London-New
York, Routledge, 1992.

157

Nasab, Baraka and Land:
Hagiographic and Family Memory entwined in the Egyptian
Brotherhood of Sharnūbiyya, from the Fourteenth Century until Today

Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen
The Egyptian Shaykh Ahmad ‘Arab b. ‘Uthmān al-Sharnūbī (1586) founded
the Sharnūbiyya tarīqa, a brotherhood with hereditary lines of transmission,
in the village of Sharnūb. Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī is also the ancestor of
the Sharnūbī family, whose many descendants have come together since
2006 in an association (rābitat āl al-Sharnūbī) that numbered 22.000 members in 2011 according to the brotherhood’s current Shaykh. This Shaykh is
first cousins with the head of the family who is also the President of the association. With each generation, the Shaykh of the Sharnūbiyya is always a
direct descendant of Saint Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī. The responsibility and
function of the Shaykh (mashyakha) is passed down from father to son; in
the absence of a son, the line passes to a nephew or male cousin. The
shaykhs of the more or less independent branches of the brotherhood – only
one is officially independent – are also descendants of Ahmad ‘Arab alSharnūbī. While all of the brotherhood’s members are not necessarily descendants of the Shaykh and all the Shaykh’s descendants are not necessarily
members of the brotherhood, it is the allegiance to the eponymous ancestor
saint that justifies and upholds, in both cases, the conviction of belonging to
a same and single origin, one that extends back to the Prophet. In the
Sharnūbīs’ collective memory, Shaykh Ahmad ‘Arab has become the vital
element in tracing their lineage back to its source.
The Sharnūbiyya brotherhood currently presents itself as a brotherhood
with hereditary lines of transmission (tarīqa wurāthiyya). A Sharnūbī informed me that among all the male descendants, the individual chosen to be
the next shaykh is the one with the greatest spiritual, physical, and even financial aptitudes (isti‘dād dīnī, sihhī, mālī) for fulfilling this function. Today,
as growing secularization is manifestly weakening the ties between the family and the brotherhood, it is remarkable that this link has been maintained.
The first, immediate explanation is certainly the existence of a cult of saints,
who are also ancestor saints, that is constantly renewed with new holy figures. A second explanation lies in the important role played by hagiographic
texts produced by the Sharnūbī at key periods. Finally, the ties between fam159

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

ily and brotherhood benefit from strong, local roots and a land base that the
Sharnūbī shaykhs have fructified throughout their history – officially since
the sixteenth century (in reality as early as the fourteenth century) until
today.
The texts dedicated to the Shaykh Sharnūbī, from the beginning of the
seventeenth century to the end of the twentieth century are all variations on
the genealogical allegiance to an ancestor saint, a faith that is intimately
linked to the spiritual “family,” a family of disciples. Starting in the nineteenth century, these texts and the decision to publish them were incorporated into a debate over which aspects of the spiritual heritage fundamentally
needed to be transmitted. This holds especially true when considering a heritage that is regularly renewed by individual descendants or specific disciples who have fluidly adapted to the sociological and political evolutions
of Egypt. Be they Sufi shaykhs supported by Ottoman powers, local notables
traveling from Sharnūb to Cairo and back, Azharian intellectuals, major land
owners, heads of families and of the Sharnūbī brotherhood, all have developed the different aspects of a heritage they are expected to protect and
maintain. Throughout the twentieth century, the different branches of the
Sharnūbī family, all situated in the north-west of the Delta, developed the
brotherhood and various centers throughout the territory thanks to the unfailing support of the Egyptian State, first by the viceroys during the nineteenth century, and then by the Arab Republic of Egypt, despite the 1952
land reforms. The semi-political role of the Shaykh of Sharnūbiyya and of
the agricultural engineer needed to maintain an agrarian fortune that has
more or less survived Nasserian land reforms, is buttressed by the charisma
of a holy man, with a saintly ancestor. At various moments and in different
locations, this force has continued to renew the heritage of their sixteenth
century ancestor. In such a situation, genealogy (nasab) and chain of transmission (silsila), family memory, brotherhood memory, and hagiographic
memory all manage to remain clearly distinct while being intricately entwined. It is with the creation of longstanding family and brotherhood networks, solidly rooted in the soil of the Nile Delta, but also in the editorial
policy, and finally in the unbroken relationship to the land, that the uninterrupted filiation has been constructed, a continuous link between Sharnūbī
and his numerous physical and spiritual descendants since the sixteenth
century until today.
This article is based on texts concerning Sharnūbī as well as on field
surveys conducted in October 2010, and January and June 2011 with the cur160

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

rent Shaykh of the brotherhood, Shaykh Muhammad ‘Abd al-Majīd alSharnūbī, the head of the brotherhood since 1970, with other shaykhs of the
Sharnūbiyya, and finally with the different members of the Sharnūbī family
1
in the Nile Delta, in Damanhūr, in Sharnūb, and in Alexandria.
We will first look at how Ahmad al-Sharnūbī’s cumulative nasab transforms him into a descendant, the illustration of a baraka transmitted by his
ancestors and notably by the Prophet and the People of the House (Ahl albayt, the descendants of the Prophet in its widest acceptation). This nasab is
doubled and completed by the brotherhood’s silsila, which is also an opportunity to sketch out another “family”. We will then study how the ancestor
saint’s heritage has been managed by his descendants. We will first look at
their editorial policy; how does one write the history of an ancestor saint?
Then, we will examine how the Sharnūbiyya have maintained their preeminent social role at the local level. Finally, within a context of endless creation, recomposition, and multiplication we will study what form of unity
do the Sharnūbīs maintain, or not (or rather which of them maintain it) in
their populous diversity? Which memory do they preserve or reinvent despite forgetting, the passing of time, and new circumstances to which they
have always adapted?

The Cumulative Nasab of a Founding Saint
of the Sixteenth Century: One is not a Saint by Chance
The story starts in Egypt in the sixteenth century during the first decades of
the Ottoman presence, in a world that the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries
had already saturated with holiness. Ahmad ‘Arab b. ‘Uthmān al-Sharnūbī
(d. 1586) is a Husayni sharīf, born in Sharnūb, a village in the Delta with a
Coptic name he adopted as his “relation” name (nisba). It is telling that
today, the saint’s descendants state that it was Sharnūbī who gave his name
to Sharnūb. In the collective unconscious, the toponymy has thus been subjected to the onomastic, in opposition to the nisba’s historical truth. The
place does not depend upon the saint nor on his family. The village of
Sharnūb stands near Damanhūr and Disūq, next to the western branch of
1

I would like to thank Sawsan Muhammad ‘Abd al-Jawād and his daughter Hāla
‘Isām for their warm hospitality in Qutūr; Pascale Ballet and the Bouto archeological
mission for generously welcoming me in June 2011. If it had not been for these stays
proffered within the heart of the Delta, my field work would not have been possible.
I would like to thank Fathiyya in particular for having accompanied me twice in
search of the Sharnūbīs in Buhayra and James Martone with whom I found Shaykh
‘Uthmān al-Sharnūbī’s tomb in Alexandria.

161

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

the Nile. We should take note that Disūq is home to the mausoleum of the
great Egyptian saint Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī, who died at the end of the thirteenth
2
century and whose Burhāmiyya brotherhood is firmly rooted in the region.
The Sharnūbī brotherhood bears the name of tarīqa Burhāmiyya Sharnūbiyya and states that it is the second branch of Burhāmiyya, by chronological order and by precedence. The Sharnūbī are still Sharnūb’s preeminent
family both numerically and in terms of fame and social importance.
Even if today’s descendants have forgotten or overshadowed the fact,
we must bear in mind that our saint’s family enjoyed relative land based
wealth when Ahmad was born and that the piety of Shaykh Ahmad ‘Arab’s
disciples merely added to the wealth accumulated around the ancestor saints
that had preceded Ahmad. Not only was his father ‘Uthmān (buried in Alexandria) already a Shaykh venerated as a Saint; but his genealogy (his nasab)
could be traced back through nine generations before Ahmad to a certain
3
Sīdī ‘Alī al-Burhānī, nicknamed Abū l-Wafā’, whose tomb was already established in Sharnūb, though it has long since disappeared. Hagiography
mentions that ‘Alī Abū l-Wafā’’s zāwiya is the resting place for those of
Sharnūbī's children who died before him: three sons and a certain number of
4
daughters. It is therefore probable that Ahmad al-Sharnūbī’s ancestors, long
before the Ottoman era, were already well established in Sharnūb, as
5
Burhāmī Sufis, as beneficiaries of rizqa, and therefore of the land; and as
potential saints venerated after their death. These nine generations bring us
back two and half centuries to the first half of the fourteenth century: which
corresponds to a direct relationship with the Burhāmiyya, whose first
founding father (Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī) died and was buried at the end of the
thirteenth century at Disūq, at 15 km from Sharnūb on the other bank of the
2
3

4
5

Cf. Helena Hallenberg, Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī (1255–1296) – a Saint Invented, Ph. D., Department of Asian and African Studies, University of Helsinki, 1997.
On his nasab, cf. Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī, Tā’iyyat al-Sulūk ilā malik al-mulūk,
Cairo, Maktabat al-Qāhira, 1980, p. 157. Abū l-Wafā’s very nickname deserves attention for it is not a common kunya. It refers perhaps to ties with the famous tarīqa
Wafā’iyya.
Ibid., p. 164.
On the rizaq ihbāsiyya in Egypt, cf. Nicolas Michel, “Les rizaq ihbāsiyya, terres agricoles en mainmorte dans l’Égypte mamelouke et ottomane. Étude sur les Dafātir alahbās ottomans,” Annales islamologiques, 30, 1996, pp. 105-198 and Catherine
Mayeur-Jaouen and Nicolas Michel, “Cheikhs, zāwiya-s et confréries du Delta central : un paysage religieux autour du XVIe siècle,” in Mohammad Afifi, Rachida Chih,
Brigitte Marino, Nicolas Michel and Işık Tamdoğan, eds., Sociétés rurales ottomanes.
Ottoman Rural Societies, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2005,
pp. 139-162.

162

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

Nile. Both the ulterior development of a new brotherhood during the sixteenth century by Ahmad ‘Arab in an already crowded holy landscape, as
well as the construction, within the village of Sharnūb, of tombs consecrated
to the ancestors and descendants of the Shaykh Sharnūbī: the Sharāniba (the
plural is pronounced locally Sharāmba) can only be explained by the mass ive accumulation of land-based pious foundations that brought wealth to the
Sharnūbiyya family and its zāwiya.
The Sharāniba are ashrāf, descendants of the Prophet, and their nasab –
which goes back to Husayn, and therefore back to ‘Alī ibn Abī Tālib and the
Prophet – is constitutive of their baraka. This nasab is constitutive of their
holiness, when pertinent for not all descendants go on to become saints. Of
this nasab, the members of the Sharnūbiyya – especially the saint’s descendants – still repeat today the different links in the brotherhood’s prayers
6
(awrād). Shaykhs from the Sharnūbiyya family pointed out to me that in
general they named their sons from this sacred genealogy (like the name
Ahmad ‘Arab) to which they added the name of more recent Sharnūbī
saints: Ibrāhīm, Yūsuf, ‘Abd al-Majīd… These are “first names” handed down
within the family – repeating the baraka that the descendant is then invited
to embody and eventually revivify. These names are given in souvenir (lidhikrā) and also out of piety (tabarrukan), explained the Shaykh.
Any hagiographic account concerning Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī begins
with the Sharnūbīs’ genealogy. Their genealogy constitutes the incipit of all
holy books used in the Sharnūbiyya. The Shaykh who recites it thus presents in passing the genealogy of his own ancestors, oftentimes restating the
long past echo of his own name. Mentioning this nasab, states Shaykh ‘Abd
al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī (d. 1929), means accessing the baraka of all the saints
7
mentioned, the Ahl al-bayt and of course the Prophet. This is why, even
today, it is placed as an incipit of the collections of prayers undertaken in
the brotherhood. Hereunder is this genealogy as it was published in 1886 in
a work that summarized the brotherhood: the Tā’iyyat al-sulūk – we took
the liberty of erasing the majority of the Sayyidī/Sīdī titles that preceded
each name:
6

7

For instance, Awrād al-tarīqa al-sharnūbiyya al-burhāmiyya al-muhammadiyya,
shaykh al-tarīqa al-hasīb al-nasīb Sīdī Muhammad ‘Izzat al-Sayyid al-Sharnūbi, Kafr
al-Shaykh, Matba‘at al-Najāh, n.d., pp. 10-15. Awrād al-tarīqa al-sharnūbiyya alBurhāmiyya al-Muhammadiyya, shaykh al-tarīqa al-hasīb al-nasīb al-shaykh ‘Abd
Allāh Muhammad al-Sābir al-Sharnūbī, pp. 15-19.
Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, p. 157.

163

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

Ahmad ‘Arab b. ‘Uthmān b Ahmad b. ‘Alī Nūr al-Dīn b. Ahmad
Abī l-‘Abbās b. Muhammad b. Ahmad b. Muhammad b Ahmad b.
‘Alī al-Burhānī known as Abū l-Wafā’ whose tomb is in Sharnūb
b. Sīdī Khidr b. ‘Alī b. Muhammad b. Yūsuf b. Sulaymān b. ‘Abd
al-Muhayman b. ‘Abd al-Khāliq Salāh al-Dīn b. Muhammad
Qamar al-Dawla al-Hāl whose tomb is in Nifyā and whom Sīdī
Ahmad al-Badawī thus named during their meeting when he said
to him, “you are the Star of my kingdom,” b. Sīdī Hasan b. Sīdī
Hasan al-Sayyād b. Ibrāhīm al-Ghālibī whose tomb is in Fāw b.
Sīdī ‘Umar in Sa‘īd [Upper Egypt] b. Muhammad b. ‘Abd al-Salām
b. Ibrahīm al-Ridā b. Musā al-Kāzim b. Ja‘far al-Sādiq b. Muhammad al-Bāqir b. ‘Alī Zayn al-‘Ābidīn b. Husayn b. ‘Alī b. Abī
8
Tālib.
An attentive reading shows that Sharnūbī’s nasab, whose unverifiable historicity extends past the scope of this article, comprises several strata. There
are the local ancestor saints, especially during the Mamluk era; that of the
Badawī companions also from the Mamluk era; and finally that of the Imams and the Ahl al-bayt.
Throughout a certain number of generations, the first stratum is composed of immediate ancestors who are all considered to be saints (sīdī
Fūlān), starting with Uthmān, the founding saint’s father. Certain saints
from this first level were still relatively well known and venerated during
the seventeenth century when ‘Alī copied the nasab – and even into the
nineteenth century when Abd al-Majīd in turn copied ‘Alī – to the point that
their tombs were explicitly mentioned. All their tombs are located in Egypt:
Uthmān’s father is buried in Alexandria, ‘Alī al-Burhānī in Sharnūb, Qamar
al-Dawla in Nifyā (a village in the Delta, near Tantā), Ibrāhīm al-Ghālibī in
Fāw (Upper Egypt), and ‘Umar in Upper Egypt – with no further specifics.
Aside from these last two exceptions, the nasab essentially covers the Delta,
mapping out the family’s territory, with Sharnūb at the center. The other
locations mentioned are probably anchoring points for the Sharnūbiyya.
The nasab, through the constant repetition of the names Muhammad, Hasan, ‘Alī, and Ahmad, insist on the piety given over to the Prophet and his
close relatives, the Ahl al-bayt – whom we will find at the third stratum.
A second stratum appears with the interference of the Badawī companions in the story of the Sharnūbī and its genealogy, with Qamar al-Dawla’s
8

Ibid.

164

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

evocation. The nasab, as does the silsila, thus becomes a sort of parentheses,
some would even say bifurcations, that combine spiritual and physical genealogy. One of Sharnūbī’s direct paternal ancestors is Muhammad Qamar alDawla, the saint of Nifyā, cited notably in the nasab. He is one of Sayyid al9
Badawī’s main disciples. Sharnūbī thus incorporates through blood lines
the heritage of the Delta’s great saint as the silsila incorporates the heritage
of Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī – the Delta’s other major saint. Physical genealogy thus
completes the brotherhood’s silsila. Qamar al-Dawla occupies such a strategic position in the Sharnūbī’s family tree that the sharīf certificates awarded by the Union of Ashrāf now stops at him, along the lines of the following model, which is content to merely summarize the rest. The example is
the official nasab, dated 2001, of a Sharnūbī shaykh who died in 2005. We
will not linger on the obvious differences with the Tā’iyyat al-sulūk’s nasab,
preferring to focus on the importance of Qamar al-Dawla, a central link:
Muhammad. ‘Ezzat b. al-Sayyid b. Yūsuf b. ‘Abd Allāh b. Muhammad b. ‘Alī b. Ahmad b. Yūsuf b. Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī
[d. 1586] b. ‘Uthmān al-Sharnūb b. Ahmad b. ‘Alī b. ‘Alī b. Muhammad b. Yūsuf b. Sulaymān b. ‘Abd al-Humayn b. ‘Abd alKhāliq b. Salāh al-Dīn b. Sīdī Qamar al-Dawla whose tomb is in
Nifyā and whose nasab extends back to ‘Alī Zayn al-‘Ābidīn b.
Husayn.
This interference with the hagiography of Badawī is also manifested on the
maternal side, which does not appear in nasab, but is explicitly mentioned in
the hagiography: Sharnūbī’s mother, ‘Ā’ida, plays an important role in the
accounts of miracles that showcase Sharnūbī’s holiness. A saintly woman in
her own right, she is the descendant of another famous Companion of Sayyid al-Badawī, the Abū Bakr al-Rā‘ī saint (wa kānat wālidatuhu min al-sālihāt
wa ismuhā ‘Ā’ida wa tunsab ilā sīdī Abī Bakr al-Rā‘ī) buried in Mahallat
Marhūm, next to Tantā. This matrilineal lineage thus ties the saint to
10
Ahmad al-Badawī.
Well before these Mamluk strata of local saints in the Nile Delta, we
reach the third stratum. It is the level that uses the names of the People of
9

On Qamar al-Dawla and Sayyid al-Badawī, see Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, Al-Sayyid
al-Badawī, un grand saint de l’islam égyptien, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie
Orientale, 1994, pp. 410-413.
10 On the Awlād al-Rā‘ī, the descendants of this saint, see C. Mayeur-Jaouen, Al-Sayyid
al-Badawī, p. 424.

165

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

the House of the Prophet, the Ahl al-bayt. Seven of the twelve imams are
mentioned here; the Egyptians state that two of them, Zayn al-‘Ābidīn and
Husayn, have their mausoleums in Cairo. We are dealing here with Sunni
piety that had taken up the list of Twelve Imams much earlier on, signifying
the Sunni had also appropriated the limitless devotion for the Ahl al-bayt
11
that continues to this day. This Husaynī nasab stretches back to ‘Alī b. Abī
Tālib, in other words back to the cousin and son-in-law of the Prophet, who
was himself inscribed within the preeminence of the Qurayshis and the
Banū Hāshim who illustrate countless hadiths. We have here a purely patrilineal nasab, however another version does appear in the awrād collection of
Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh Sāber al-Sharnūbī, who was buried as a saint in Sharnūb
in 1996. Given the same names, the nasab ends not with ‘Alī b. Abī Tālib,
12
but with his wife Fātima, Husayn’s mother; this is also a way to trace back
directly to the Prophet. Shaykh Wahīd al-Shādhilī al-Sharnūbī of Dayrūt
gave me a family tree in which Fātima and ‘Alī appear as equals, as a couple,
each with their own father – the Prophet thus faces Abū Tālib, his own
uncle, the father of ‘Alī and father-in-law to Fātima. Shaykh Sharnūbī of
Dayrūt owns another manuscript in which a separate family tree extends
back even further, past the Prophet to ‘Adnān, the mythical ancestors of the
northern Arab tribes, 21 generations before Muhammad… A hadith in which
Muhammad supposedly said, “Do not trace my lineage back beyond ‘Adnan”
thankfully forbids us from going back any further.
The Sharnūbiyya organizes a khidma – a tent – for all the major celebrations of patron saints (mawlids) dedicated to those who descended from the
Prophet and organized in the Delta and in Cairo: manifestations of devotion
for the cousins and ancestors, all of whom belonged to the Ahl al-bayt: Sīdī
Shibl in Shuhadā’, Ahmad al-Badawī in Tantā, Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī in Disūq,
Abū Rīsh in Damanhūr, Mursī Abū l-‘Abbās in Alexandria, and all the Ahl
al-bayt venerated in Cairo (Husayn, Nafīsa, ‘Alī Zayn al-‘Ābidīn, Zaynab,
13
Ahmad al-Rifā‘ī Abū l-Shebbāk). There is quite a lot to do for those who
love the Prophet’s family and have decided to go on a pilgrimage to the
11 Muhibb al-Dīn Ahmad ibn ‘Abd Allāh al-Tabarī al-Makkī, Les trésors de la postérité
ou les proches parents du Prophète, édition critique et traduction annotée par Frédéric
Bauden, Textes arabes et études islamiques, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie
Orientale, 2004.
12 Awrād al-tarīqa al-Sharnūbiyya al-Burhāmiyya al-Muhammadiyya, shaykh al-tarīqa
al-hasīb al-nasīb al-shaykh ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad al-Sābir al-Sharnūbī, p. 15.
13 On these pilgrimages, see Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, Pèlerinages d’Égypte. Histoire
de la piété copte et musulmane, XVe-XXe siècle, Paris, Éditions de l’EHESS, 2005.

166

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

tombs of its members. These celebrations are accompanied by private mawlids in honor of the brotherhood’s more recent saints, such as the one organized by Sharnūbiyya’s current shaykh for his father and grandfather, or the
one organized by the local shaykh of the al-Hissa Sharnūbiyya for his father,
his brother, and his sister….
Ahmad al-Sharnūbī’s nasab is thus a cumulative nasab that in reality alludes to other possible nasabs, their most important common feature being
that they all extend back to the Prophet. Each descendant in turn recites his
nasab in order to be capable of restating the names that separate him from
the founding saint Ahmad al-Sharnūbī and from this vital link, furnish proof
of his own sharaf. This precise recitation is a difficult exercise that even the
Sharnūbī shaykhs cannot always perform flawlessly, given the number of
homonyms the Sharnūbī have multiplied from the sixteenth century through
until today. The Shaykhs conserve the manuscript copy of the nisba on a
rolled manuscript or on a sheet of paper. Others display a framed, official
version that can now be obtained by the union of ashrāf (niqābat al-ashrāf).
The current Shaykh of the brotherhood knows instantaneously that eighteenth generations separate him from his ancestor Ahmad ‘Arab – without
however knowing precisely in which period the latter lived. He situates his
ancestor roughly in the seventh Hegira century (thirteenth century A.D.) –
certainly an attempt to return to the period of the great Delta saints, Badawī
and Disūqī, who did indeed live during that time. It may also be a way to
minimize Ottoman heritage. In this optic, genealogy is not used to unfurl
the ramifications stemming from a single root, as does the European family
tree in general. Rather, it is used to allow oneself to go back in time to the
ever living stock, the gushing source, the inspiration that gives meaning to
all those who followed the Prophet. The Prophet is therefore not a starting
point but rather the goal of a genealogical recitation. Time is not convened
in the same way either; the aim is not to date generations but to recite the
names, from father to son, and in the end to prove true, direct descent from
Sharnūbī and thus from the Prophet, all the while distinguishing between
oneself and others the ties that bind as well as the filiation that separates.
An interesting innovation can be found with Shaykh Wahīd, who – like
his father – became a member of Hāmidiyya Shādhiliyya, and yet who remains faithful to Sharnūbiyya where he met his wife. He reconstituted a
family tree on his computer and showed it to me alongside the famous roll,
which in truth is rather impractical… The family tree he recreated, contrary
to the manuscript version of the nisba, rigorously mentions all the daughters
167

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

of the various shaykhs next to their brothers – but none of the wives.
Shaykh Wahīd placed his three children, two girls and a boy in a process
that is utterly different than that of the manuscript nisba. The tree reveals
the importance of the Sharnūbī daughters and their marriages for these alliances. Glaringly absent from the manuscript nisba, they are vital in maintaining ties within the Sharnūbiyya family and with its many branches.

The other Filiation: a Cumulative silsila of Brotherhood
Affiliations and Devotional Allegiances
Let us now turn to the initiatory ties that our sixteenth century saint,
Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī, invokes. Here too, the ties are situated within a
well constructed backdrop. Two major saints, Ahmad al-Badawī (d. 1276) in
Tantā, and Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī (d. 1288 or 1296) in Disūq, very near to Sharnūb, are said to have founded brotherhoods in the Nile Delta in the thirteenth century, the first established Sutūhiyya-Ahmadiyya and the second,
14
Burhāmiyya. The importance of these brotherhoods, of their mausoleums,
of their control over the villages of the central Delta for Ahmadiyya, and
those of the Buhayra for the Burhāmiyya, did not truly take form until the
15
fourteenth and especially the fifteenth century. This importance corresponds to both a phase in the Islamization of the countryside and the establishment of stable revenue, the rizaq ihbāsiyya, during the Mamluk period: it
is revealed by the important hagiographic flow that appeared concerning
16
Badawī, Disūqī and the other four poles in general (al-aqtāb al-arba‘a). The
four Poles, whose canonic list and prerogatives were established at the end
of the Mamluk period, are Ahmad al-Rifā‘ī, ‘Abd al-Qādir al-Jilānī, Badawī,
and Disūqī. Sharnūbī has particular ties through hagiography and through
its silsila with these last two, who are both Egyptian and buried in the Delta.
Sharnūbī is essentially a Burhāmī, a direct disciple of Muhammad al-Shahāwī (d. 1542–1543), then of Sīdī Sibt al-Marsafī whose initiatory line goes
back to Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī, the supposed founder of the Burhāmiyya. However, Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī also has many ties to Ahmadiyya and its
founding saint, Sayyid al-Badawī. Even today, Ahmad ‘Arab is still presen14 See C. Mayeur-Jaouen, Al-Sayyid al-Badawî, and H. Hallenberg, Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī.
15 C. Mayeur-Jaouen and N. Michel, “Cheikhs, zāwiya-s et confréries du Delta central :
un paysage religieux autour du XVIe siècle,” pp. 153-154.
16 Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, “La vision du monde par une hagiographie anhistorique
de l’Égypte ottomane. Les Tabaqāt sharnūbiyya et les quatre Pôles,” in Catherine
Mayeur-Jaouen and Rachida Chih, eds., Le Soufisme à l’époque ottomane / Sufism in
the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, pp. 128-150.

168

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

ted by his descendants and disciples as the heir and minister (wazīr) of the
four Poles. More specifically, he is Sīdī Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī’s wazīr, whose example he followed and who is the source at which he drank through friendship with the spirits (wa shariba min mashrabihi bi-i’tilāf al-arwāh), even if
three centuries separated them. His own path is thus still called today the
tarīqa Burhāmiyya Sharnūbiyya. This is a world of fluid brotherhood based
on dialogue and shared tasks rather than the regimented exclusivism that
we imagine all too often. It is a family affair just as much as it is about initiatory filiation, it addresses shared tasks and shared territories in a world
view that is common to all.
The brotherhood’s filiation insists on Sharnūbiyya’s ties with the Burhāmiyya – its original brotherhood, hence the current official name of Burhā 17
miyya Sharnūbiyya brotherhood. Our source (mashrab) is Burhāmī, insists
the shaykh. Attachment to Burhāmiyya, to its customs and traditions, is in deed intense amongst all those who are even the least bit interested in
brotherhoods. However this filiation is more complex than it would seem
and the silsila, as does the nasab, soon appears cumulative. Sharnūbī is first
a shādhilī, as its biography states clearly (wa kānat tarīqatu l-ustādh shā18
dhiliyya), before giving a list of a its shaykhs (a dozen in all), then picking
its silsila back up until Sīdī Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī, by way of the latter’s father.
Another trait that reveals their proximity with the Shādhilīs: Sīdī Ahmad alSharnūbī’s own father, Sīdī ‘Uthmān, is buried in Alexandria, very near Sīdī
Mursī Abū l-‘Abbās’ (d. 1287) mausoleum. The latter was a propagator of
the Shādhiliyya; his tomb is surrounded by several dozen saints and Shādhilīs saints. Sīdī ‘Uthmān’s tomb and the waqfs’ land on which it is foun ded was a point of contention for a branch of the Shādhiliyya (Abnā’ ‘Abd
al-Maqsūd al-Shādhilī) who had settled there and were evicted by trial. The
Sharnūbī recovered their tomb but not the land on which their buildings had
been built. Ever since the Sharnūbiyya took back Sīdī ‘Uthmān’s tomb from
the Shādhilīs, it is here at this Alexandrian address that both the family and
the brotherhood meet. In 2005, for example, an invitation, cosigned by the
shaykh of the tarīqa Muhammad ‘Abd al-Majīd Yūsuf al-Sharnūbī and by
the head of the family (‘amīd al-‘ā’ila) (his first cousin) Mustafā Ahmad
17 On the Sharnūbiya as a tarīqa, see John S. Trimingham, The Sufi Orders in Islam, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1971, p. 275 and Frederick De Jong, Turuq and TuruqLinked Institutions in the Nineteenth Century Egypt, Leiden, Brill, 1978, pp. 18, 44,
116, 136, 180, 182.
18 ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī, Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, p. 161.

169

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

Yūsuf al-Sharnūbī, offered all descendants affiliated with the Āl al-Sharnūbī
association a visit of the Alexandria tomb. Today, there is no longer question of advancing the idea of an original family tie between Shādhiliyya and
Burhāmiyya-Sharnūbiyya; the Sudanese Burhāniyya are accused of this
19
same abusive relationship. This tie, however most probably corresponds to
a historical truth; which does not exclude other ties with the Ahmadiyya
and the Rifā‘iyya. It is entirely possible that Sharnūbī, who was at the start
an essentially Shādhilī saint, became a Burhāmī thanks to his Burhāmī family, to his own devotion, to his disciples, and to geographic and terrestrial
roots in the Buhayra. He was after all at the head of a family and a brotherhood that was particularly well implanted in the Disūq region, where the
Disūqī mausoleum is to be found, as opposed to his zāwiya, which was built
in Cairo. Nevertheless, the majority of the twenty nine disciples whose
names and nisbas can be found in Sharnūbī’s biography all originate or are
buried in the cities and villages of the Delta, often near Disūq, such as Shub rakhīt, Alexandria, Mahalla al-Kubrā, Bulqīn, Disūq, ‘Akrisha, Sandiyūn, alBahī, Samadīs, Damanhūr.
The brotherhood conflicts between Sharnūbiyya, Burhāmiyya, and
Shādhiliyya have family roots and implications. According to oral tradition,
one of the four sons of Saint Ahmad ‘Arab was himself nicknamed “alShadlī,” or al-Shādhilī, a name that pious legend attributes to a certain singularity linked to the brotherhood (al-shādhu lī, “he who is different from
me”) in a pun of sorts. Other versions however present Shādlī (plural: alShawādlī) as a simple proper name, without any brotherhood implications
whatsoever. Is this a mirror of the longstanding proximity? During the mid
twentieth century, an important branch of the Sharnūbī family reached the
summit of the Hāmidiyya Shādhiliyya – at the level of an entire Governorate
of the Delta, without this conversion to another brotherhood causing in any
way a rupture with the family, with the allegiances that it implies, or with
the marital alliances that it allows.
The final clue: the current shaykh, as well as the entire branch of Sabriyyas (descendants of Sabir, son of Ahmad ‘Arab), clearly state following
Hanafī rites. It confirms the importance of the Sharnūbīs during the Ottoman era and throughout the nineteenth century, since the Hanafī rite was
the official rite of the Ottoman state in terms of magistrature. This rite however was little followed by the Egyptian population who as a whole re19 Valerie J. Hoffmann, Sufism, Mystics, and Saints in Modern Egypt, Columbia, University of South Carolina Press, 1995.

170

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

mained Shāfi‘ī. However, many Sharnūbī descendants of the saint seem, at
least for a portion of them, to follow the Mālikī rite, a widespread rite in the
western Delta among the Rifā‘ī Sufis, just like with the Shādhilīs – perhaps
due to ancient North African origins. Shaykh ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī (d.
1929) was an illustration of the fiqh Mālikī in al-Azhar at the same time as a
commentator of the famous shādhilī text, the Hikam by Ibn ‘Atā’ Allāh alIskandarī (d. 1309). Many direct disciples of Saint Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī
are Mālikī, such as the most famous of them, the faqīh and Sufi Ibrāhīm alLaqqānī (d. 1631), author of the famous Jawharat al-tawhīd, a versified
20
credo. We thus make out traces of the close ties created from the start
between the Burhāmiyya and the Shādhiliyya. Through different eras, the
Sharnūbiyya, its shaykhs, and their disciples have illustrated this with many
examples throughout the various periods.

The Saints of a Territory:
Family and Brotherhood Settlement Linked to the Land
Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī cannot be reduced to merely a man tied to his
land, or to the regional, even local, settling of the brotherhood. Though hagiography says he was born in Sharnūb, he also spent time in Damanhūr, in
the Delta (the city is roughly 10 kilometers from Sharnūb), he lived seven
years in Mecca and Medina, settled in Darb al-Ahmar in Cairo where he
founded a zāwiya, sojourned in Istanbul where he was initiated – the order
of events is unclear – by shaykh Nūr al-Dīn Zādeh in a khalwa of the Süleymaniyye, the important pious foundation of Suleiman the Magnificent, completed in 1557. He received from the Sultan a coat (jubba) of green wool and
21
a rosary of 1000 beads. It is said that they both prayed together successfully for the 1571 conquest of Cyprus by the Sultan Selim II (reign: 15661574). This direct link to a Turkish or Persian shaykh judging from his
name, is not that common for an Egyptian shaykh from the sixteenth century; even if the mention also serves to underline Shaykh Sharnūbī’s power,
one that is certified by Ottoman power. The peregrinations between the
20 ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī, Tā’iyyat al-sulūk. One of the many later commentators of
the Jawharat al-tawhīd, Ahmad al-Sāwī (d. 1825), underlines the fact that Ibrāhīm alLaqqānī composed this text in one night thanks to the indication of shaykh al-tarbiya fī l-tasawwuf Sharnūbī whose science was prodigious. On this text, see Gilbert
Delanoue, Moralistes et politiques musulmans dans l’Égypte du XIXe siècle (1798-1882),
Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 1982, pp. 33, 98, 112 n. 26, 117, 207,
289, 321.
21 ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī, Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, pp. 160-161.

171

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

Hijāz, Cairo, and Istanbul, give weight to the hypothesis of a relatively important shaykh who was clearly close to the cultivated Sufi milieus of the
Ottoman period, which gathered together individuals who enjoyed traveling
to obtain ijāzas, collect manuscripts, and acquire gifts from the Sublime
Door. Texts recount that it was in Istanbul that Sharnūbī obtained from the
Sultan Selim II a decree (marsūm) to end the abuses inflicted upon the
people of Sharnūb, in other words, probably taxes or spoliation of land that
affected in reality his own family. The marsūm thus obtained were perhaps
accompanied by pious foundations, and in any case by the support of the
Ottoman power that thus came to confirm the existence of a saint family on
its land...
Sharnūbī thus returned to Sharnūb where, far from being welcomed
with open arms, he and his disciples came up against strong opposition.
Their detractors denounced them to the governor (hākim) like a band of
robbers (lusūs) and tried to have them expelled from Sharnūb. In the second
half of the sixteenth century, official Ottoman documents often bestowed
the title of hākim to the governor of Buhayra, a function that was already
exercised by a shaykh al-‘arab, in other words, a shaykh from a major
22
Bedouin tribe. Beyond hagiographic issues, we can make out the probable
struggle between two territorial powers, perhaps between two groups of
brotherhood, and concretely between two families, over the control of
Sharnūb. The absence of Ahmad al-Sharnūbī had perhaps left room for maneuvering by members of another family, who were targeted as despoilers.
Indeed, there is question of the “household of opponents” (min bayt al-inkār
23
‘alaynā) – with “household” (bayt) indicating a family group. The hagiographer who wrote a century later notes with satisfaction that, “these opponents’ descendants has extinguished” (wa qad inqarada al-ān nasal jamī‘
24
al-munkirīn). If Sharnūbī and his descendants won out over others, it is
manifestly because Ahmad al-Sharnūbī had sought help from the Ottoman
powers against another family or a dissident branch of his own family.
Sharnūbī died during a second visit to Anatolia, where he was buried.
He had come to intercede for a disciple with the Sublime Porte, recounts the
hagiographer. No clues offer further information: what did intercession en22 Provincial Governors, entrusted to high level Ottoman civil servants, were called
kāshif. See Seyyid Muhammad es-Seyyid Mahmud, XVI. Asırda Mısır Eyâleti, Istanbul, Edebiyat Fakultesi Basımevi, 1990, p. 160 note 248.
23 ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī, Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, p. 163.
24 ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī, Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, p. 161.

172

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

tail exactly? What kind of earthly affairs did the shaykh bother himself with
in the capital? Perhaps he was once again defending his own interests in
Sharnūb against the local rivals to whom hagiography alluded. Still according to the hagiographer, the Ottoman Vizier ordered a mausoleum (maqām)
25
and a zāwiya to be built on Sharnūbī’s tomb in honor of the saint. The exact location of this tomb that hagiography situates “between Syria and Anatolia” (mā bayna al-Shām wa l-Rūm) is unknown to Ahmad al-Sharnūbī’s
modern day descendants, who situate it in Syria or Iraq. Hagiographers hesitate between two place names: Dijla or Arjili. The Egyptian Sharnubiyya ig26
nores developments beyond Egypt, especially those in Turkey. The Sharnūbiyya brotherhood remains in Egypt and not in Anatolia, in Syria, or in
Iraq. It remains based in Sharnūb even though the saint is buried elsewhere.
Such a situation requires a firmly established and substantial material foundation. Such a base was established, as we have seen, during the Mamluk
period and Sharnūbī shrewdly multiplied it using his charisma and his relationship with the Ottomans. The absence of an Egyptian tomb for the foun25 During the Murad III period, there were seven viziers. In 1586, the Grand Vizier was
Siyavush Pasha, who did not leave any notable pious foundation (see Enc. Islam 2).
The association of the tomb and the brotherhood’s center (türbe, maqām and zāviye)
was very frequent with the Ottoman waqfs at the end of the sixteenth century. The
construction of a mausoleum for a contemporary saint was not utterly impossible
for a grand vizier, or another vizier; but it would have left a trace. It is therefore difficult to believe this to be the case here because the foundation of a zāviye supposes
a waqf of considerable dimensions. We are in vague and conjectural territory, confirmed by the ignorance of the whereabouts of the tomb.
26 At the time, there were several possible itineraries between Damas and the gulf of
Alexandrette through which all the routes towards Anatolia ran, see Antoine AbdelNour, “Le réseau routier de la Syrie ottomane (XVI e-XVIIIe siècles),” Arabica, 30/2,
1983, pp. 169-189. In available sources, the location of Ahmad ‘Arab’s tomb seems to
elicit confusion: it is indeed Dijla and not Arjilī that is quoted in the printed silsila
conserved in Sharnūb, which I was able to read at the home of Shaykh ‘Ezzat ‘Abd
Allāh al-Sharnūbī, the current khalīfa of the village branch of the brotherhood. This
is certainly due to a reading error between Dijla and Arjilī. Whether the error lies
with the silsila (Dijla) or more likely with the printed edition of the Tā’iyya (Arjilī) is
not fundamentally important in the end. The recent Turkish translation of Tabaqāt
sharnūbiyya also figures prominently the nasab of the original Sharnūb saint figures.
However, this translation has been modified by brotherhood and not family choices.
The latter are utterly absent from Turkish additions to the translation that ignores
everything about the family. As Sharnūbī is thought to have prophetised the holiness of the founder of the Turkish Jerrahiyya brotherhood, the Tabaqāt sharnūbiyya
took on an unexpected importance in Turkey. The text however remains unknown
in Egypt and amongst the Sharnūbīs themselves. Other than the fact that it expresses in sum a piety that is not fully understood today, this text does not correspond
perfectly to the family-brotherhood heritage defended by the Sharnūbīs.

173

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

der creates a unique situation; a rare occurrence in Egypt where saints are
generally highly sedentary. The existence of a cult of ancestor saints in the
Sharnūbī family allows them to forego the mausoleum of Shaykh Ahmad
himself, despite the fact that he is their main saint. Without the mausoleum
of the founder in Egypt, it is always in the Sharnūb village, at the Sharāniba
mosque and mausoleum that celebrations are held in July to commemorate
the anniversary (mawlid) of the family saints, all celebrated together. And
for those whose lives have long kept them from their hometown, the meeting spot is in Alexandria, at Uthmān’s tomb.
Let us conclude then on the double origin (silsila and nasab) of our saint
with the acknowledgement of the existence of holiness within the family
that dates back to before the founder himself; of the solid ties to the land in
Sharnūb and the north-west of the Delta; of the various influences of the
brotherhood that are not perceived as contradictory by those concerned. On
the contrary, the silsila and the nasab stretch back to Sīdī Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī,
one of the known saints of the People of the House (Ahl al-bayt), as well as
to ‘Alī, the Prophet’s son-in-law and cousin, by way of family and brotherhood affinities with the Delta’s major saint, Sayyid al-Badawī, who is also a
descendant of the Prophet. Nasab and silsila thus both converge at the
Prophet, the source of all holy intercessions and genealogies (nasab). The
emergence of the saintly Sharnūb family, towards the fourteenth century,
corresponds to the moment when throughout the Muslim world the proliferation of ashrāf, the preeminence of Ahl al-bayt and recourse to prophetic
intercession asserted themselves. The family’s arrival also coincided with a
moment when at the scale of the Nile Delta, the Ahmadiyya and Burhāmiyya brotherhoods flourished, without ever denying their shādhilī roots.
The current Sharnūbī shaykhs clearly belong to Burhāmiyya, presenting it
as rituals and a Church, with its rules, hierarchies, mysteries, poetry, and
with its beloved saints. The Burhāmiyya Sharnūbiyya, born during the
Mamluk era, most certainly derived its force from the Ottoman period.

How the Saint’s Descendants Enriched the Nasab:
the Legend of the Four Family Branches
When Sharnūbī died in 1586, in Anatolia, he left behind many disciples, listed in the hagiography, as well as sons and daughters – even if some of his
children had gone before him into the tomb. During the sixteenth century,
the saint’s family remained based in Sharnūb, while his disciples seemed
prefer gathering around the brotherhood’s zāwiya in Cairo, at Darb al-ah174

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

mar. We can easily imagine the incessant comings and goings of boats along
the branch of the Rosetta that flows between Cairo and Disūq – and from
there, traveling by foot or by donkey to Sharnūb. The paths along the Nile
were punctuated by villages marked with the presence of the Burhāmiyya,
sometimes also of the Sharnūbiyya. If the Sharnūbiyya brotherhood, as did
the family, has always remained centered around Sharnūb and its outlying
areas, it is undoubtedly due to the assets and property the Sharnūbī family
owns there.
After Sharnūbī himself, the descendants also seemed obviously, if unequally, imbued with baraka granted by the prophetic light, including those
who did not have the chance or the time to manifest a particular baraka.
Several of Sīdī Ahmad al-Sharnūbī’s children had died before him, certainly
at an early age, but the fact that they descended from the Prophet and a long
line of saints bound them to holiness, which allowed ‘Abd al-Majīd (d. 1929)
27
to carefully identify their names and tombs, centuries later. Two sons, Sīdī
Yūsuf known as Sīdī Hajjāj and buried in Damanhūr, and Sīdī ‘Uthmān buried in Cairo at Darb al-Ahmar (therefore surely at the paternal zāwiya) apparently lived outside of Sharnūb. As for Sīdī Muhammad the 1st, Sīdī
Ahmad 1st, and Sīdī Ahmad II, all three were buried in the family zāwiya,
known as the zāwiya for Sīdī ‘Alī Abū l-Wafā al-Burhāmī (the fourteenth
century ancestor) in Sharnūb. A series of unnamed girls were also buried
there. This zāwiya founded by Sīdī Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī’s most famous
ancestor (nine generations removed) remained at the center of the Sharnūbī
family. We should note in passing that the territorial establishment of these
tombs confirms that of the disciples: the Darb al-ahmar in Cairo, Damanhūr,
and the family zāwiya in Sharnūb. Where Sharnūbī’s sons were to be found,
so too were their father’s disciples. The Sharnūbiyya was simultaneously
and permanently linked to the family and the brotherhood.
When Sharnūbī died, he left three sons behind. ‘Alī was nine years old
and the two younger brothers, Yūsuf and Muhammad, were still small chil28
dren (saghīrān). Yet, all three “were touched by their father’s baraka, they
attained the highest degrees and performed miracles” (wa qad hasalat lahum
barakat wālidihim hattā balaghū a‘lā al-darajāt wa zaharat ‘alā aydīhim alkarāmāt). Indeed, it would be ‘Alī “the Master’s son” (najl al-ustādh) who
would write the first hagiographic text about the brotherhood, the Futūhāt
ghaybiyya. The hagiography proudly details the fact that each of the three
27 Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, pp. 164-165.
28 Ibid., p. 164.

175

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

sons was also buried in his own tomb (maqām) in Sharnūb; certainly next to
the family zāwiya, in what was at the time the Sharnūbī cemetery. These
three maqāms seem to have existed at the end of the nineteenth century
when the shaykh ‘Abd al-Majīd wrote; but today, reconstructions do not allow us to make out what might have been the architectural past of the
Sharnūbī tombs. The three maqāms were grouped together to form two
cenotaphs (tābūts) in a room adjacent to the prayer room of the Sharānibas’
mosque, which has been completely refurbished. The current disciples do
not know precisely who is buried there under the names ‘Alī, Yūsuf, or
Muhammad, names that are embroidered on the kiswas that cover the three
tābūts. An inhabitant says that the two maqāms correspond in reality to
three saints, ‘Alī, Yūsuf, and Muhammad, all three sons of Ahmad ‘Arab –
which corresponds to the written tradition. Another affirms that in fact it is
eighteen Sharāmba that are really buried there. A third remembers finally
that it used to be that all the descendants were systematically buried in the
little cemetery that surrounded the mosque, which has since disappeared.
This last statement is ever more plausible in that the mosque, despite being
today situated in a residential neighborhood, is not that far from the Sharnūb cemeteries (a ten minute walk) where the brand new mausoleum of
Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh Sāber stands, a construction he had built himself in 1994,
two years before his death. The local Sharnūbiyya shaykh highlights the fact
that there are a lot of saints buried in the family mausoleum, whereas the
brotherhood’s shaykh at the national level, Muhammad ‘Abd al-Majīd, talks
of only eight saints. As for Sīdī ‘Alī Abū l-Wafā’ al-Sharnūbī’s zāwiya,
which existed before these tombs and whose foundations most probably lie
under the current mosque, it has utterly disappeared and the Sharnūbīs have
forgotten its very existence.
Through temporal and spatial flattening, the only mosque for the Sharāniba brings together the cult of all the descendants of saint Ahmad ‘Arab, as
well as of his ancestors whose names and numbers have since been forgotten. Today, in the village of Sharnūb (18.000 inhabitants, with 10.000 for the
central agglomeration, and seventeen mosques, the majority of which are
very recent), the Sharāniba are considered the most important family of
Sharnūb, but not the only family. The Sharāniba mosque, endowed with a
29
minaret in 1974, was entirely refurbished around 2002. The demographic
29 There used to be a door leading from the tomb to the prayer room. It has been
walled up and now, access to both these tombs can only be gained through a locked
door from the street.

176

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

explosion, the destructions, and constructions have transformed a former
zāwiya from the Mamluk period (the one belonging to Sīdī ‘Alī Abū l-Wafā’)
into a mosque-mausoleum at the center of the cemetery during the Ottoman
era, and finally into a neighbourhood mosque at the end of the twentieth
century. When the prayer room was expanded in 2002, it “swallowed up”
the little cemetery that preceded the mosque. The two nearly anonymous
maqāms that are today locked inside a room undoubtedly house the remains
of a number of ancestor saints. The cult of saints that is directed at them recognizes this collective nature and thus venerates the Sharāniba all together
during a mawlid in July (thus according to a solar calendar and in fact in
function of the ancient tide-based calendar). Under a beautiful, ancient
dome, in the shade of a sycamore, Shaykh Sharaf al-Dīn, much older, is associated at the same time to the Sharāniba. He is supposedly Sayyid alBadawī’s nephew (the latter was his maternal uncle, khāluhu), and therefore
came from Fez (Morocco). His foreignness (gharīb) was emphasized by those
I talked to, when compared to the local saints, the Sharāniba. However his
mawlid is celebrated with theirs and it is this enclosure that houses the
tombstones that had escaped the restructuring.
Oral tradition (collected in Sharnūb in February 2010) and written tradition are deeply divergent when it comes to the sons and successors of
Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī. The shaykh had four sons. At his death, (in Iraq
or Syria according to the Sharnūbī today), the four brothers went to fetch
their father’s remains; but the local people, his disciples, wanted to keep him
for themselves. The door to the room where the body lay in wait remained
obstinately closed, responding only to the saint’s own children. When the
brothers knocked on the door, Ahmad ‘Arab himself came to open it. In
sum, the oral tradition affirms that the physical descendants had precedence
over the disciples, even if it does not clarify how and why the saint’s body
remained buried in foreign soil. Whatever the case may be, Sharnūbī, seeing
his four sons post mortem, hit each in turn in different places on their bodies, thus giving them a nickname and founding a branch (fara‘) of the family. The first son was struck on the lips and founded the Shadlī family. The
second son was struck on the ear and founded the Sharmā family. The third
was struck on the heel and became the ancestor of the ‘Arqūb family;
whereas the fourth received the final word usbur ‘alayh (“wait, be patient”),
and thus was given the name Sābir (“patient”), and originated the Sabriyya
family. The legend has variations, one of which was recounted by Sharnūbiyya’s shaykh: Ahmad ‘Arab had two twin sons who suckled at the same
177

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

time. One drank sweet milk at his mother’s breast while the other, on the
other breast, drank bitter milk (sabr – a Sufi’s patience when faced with adversity – the word also denotes the colocynth, which was used to wean babies). The mother switched sides for the twins, asking the one who had not
had his fill to wait patiently and he too would drink sweet milk. Another
version tells of shaykh Sharnūbī’s coffin carried by a camel who refused to
budge until he was hit – and told “wait”. The nickname was thus linked to
the shaykh’s burial site. In the village of Dayrūt, where another version of
the legend of the twins is told, Sāber is indeed the ancestor of the Sharnūbbased Sawābra; and Shadlī, who settled in Dayrūt, is the ancestor of the
Shawādlī.
The legend, regardless of the version, exists to explain the actual existence of the four main families, with two dominant branches (Sāber and
Shādlī), within the Sharāniba; the families still today, bear the names Shadlī,
Sharmā, ‘Arqūb, and Sābir. They maintain matrimonial ties, even if everyone agrees that endogamy and privileged exchanges between family branches are not at all an obligation. Each family possesses documents supporting their right to claim this august ancestry and most probably the right, at
least in the past, to the waqfs linked to the ancestor saint. Currently for example, the shaykh Mukhtar al-Shadlī possesses the family silsila; the
Sharmā’s shaykh (al-hājj ‘Alī al-Sharmā), who lives in the village neighbouring the Sharnūb, in ‘Ezbat Sharmā, also has another silsila and certain say he
also detains the book with the history of the families. The name ‘ezba given
to his village, ‘Ezbat Sharmā, indicates above all that they are land owners
that settled in the nineteenth century, as is the case, as we will see, with the
other branches of the Sharnūbī family. The Sābir family who lives notably in
the Hamrā’ village (near Mas’al, Kafr al-Shaykh) was given the general
name (shuhra) Sabriyya: its shaykhs are buried there. This fourth family is
considered the most important within the brotherhood, because Sharnūbiyya’s khulafā’ are recruited exclusively amongst the Sabriyya. The other
branches, or so I was told in Sharnūb, are never concerned by the succession
of the brotherhood.

The Multiplication of Family and Brotherhood Branches
in the Nineteenth Century: Land Issues
The brotherhood’s current shaykhs generally know the oral tradition of the
story of the four families (Shadlī, Sharmā, ‘Arqūb, Saber) better than they
know the contradictory story of the three surviving sons consecrated by
178

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

written tradition. It then becomes more complex to follow the different episodes of a family saga wherein each narrator told me a story that was slightly
different, according to the family branch to which he belonged, according to
his degree of involvement in the brotherhood, according to his interest in a
story on which he depends, according to a village or city in which he lives.
In any case, it is a streamlined family history that does not extend beyond
the nineteenth century that was presented to me, sometimes dated within
an indistinct medieval period, generally the Mamluk era. These more particular stories belong to those of the different branches (furū‘) or houses
(buyūt); two terms used indifferently along with ‘ēla (‘ā’ila in literary arabic)
by those I spoke with to designate “family” as a whole.
Sharnūbiyya’s current shaykh is unquestionably, and unsurprisingly,
the person with the most synthetic version of the Sharnūbiyya branches;
even if his version, which slightly contradicts that of certain other branches,
tends to minimize the scissions and the eventual rivalry that might exist.
According to him, the explanation behind the brotherhood’s success is that
a sultan who much appreciated the Sufi shaykhs (mashāyikh) decided to
people the land (‘ashān yu‘ammir al-arādī) by giving them property under
iltizām; it was then up to them to send disciples to work fallow lands that
30
used to belong to the State (milk al-dawla). Thus, Yūsuf al-Kabīr was sent
to the Hamrā’ hamlet near Kafr al-Shaykh, whereas Sayyid al-Kabīr settled
in Hissat al-Ghunaymī, near Hamrā’ and Qallīn, also in the governorate of
Kafr al-Shaykh. ‘Abd Allāh al-Shādhilī – from the Shādlī Sharnūbī family –
settled on the Nile banks in Dayrūt (al-Mahmūdiyya, Buhayra), and finally
al-Sayyid Ahmad went all the way to Baltīm, at the edge of the Mediter31
ranean sea.
30 The choice of vocabulary is very interesting. There has been no land under iltizām
since 1814; thus the continued use of the term is remarkable. The movement to revive uncultivated lands is a constant in viceroy politics from Mehemet Ali to Ismaïl,
in 1868. Starting in 1830, these lands, called ib‘ādiyya and governed by State law
(mīrī), are granted in ‘uhda by the viceroy to individuals. This would seem to be
what is described here and what later was the genesis of the ‘izbas. These ‘uhda progressively evolved towards land ownership as we know it today. The expression
milk al-dawla belongs more to modern vocabulary, at least twentieth century terminology. It was not until 1891 that milk property became the universal land ownership regime. The term miri seems to have been lost along the way in family memory. For the best summary, see Kenneth M. Cuno, The Pasha’s Peasants. Land, Society,
and Economy in Lower Egypt, 1740-1858, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press,
1992, pp. 107-109 (the suppression of iltizām), 157-160 (the ‘uhda), 189-197 (land
ownership laws in 1847 and 1855).
31 None of these villages is located on the development border of the northern Delta

179

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

Investigation starts in al-Hamrā’, a village situated at the edge of the
road right before Kafr al-Shaykh, on the way from Tell Farā’īn (the arche ological site of Bouto). At the village entrance, we arrive immediately before
a beautiful porch that leads into an imposing agricultural field of warehouses (makhāzin) dating from 1882, the date written on the porch, where
‘Alī Ahmad al-Sharnūbī awaits. He is a spirited agricultural engineer whose
Mercedes is parked in front of the entrance porch. He is busy welcoming
donkey carts guided by farmers, delivering bags of rice to the warehouse.
Further in, the lot is still occupied by cowsheds, former stables, railroad
tracks from a train that used to deliver agricultural goods here. The establishment dates back to the end of the nineteenth century and has been used
to store wheat, cotton, rice; today it deals mainly in rice. The agronomist is
waiting for a delegation of FAO experts traveling from elsewhere in Africa
to show them his establishment and discuss rice farming. He welcomes us
into his office and immediately recites his family tree, all the while mentioning with brio the numerous parallel branches of his cousins. According to
him, the first to arrive in al-Hamrā’, during the second half of the nineteenth century, was ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad ‘Umar al-Sharnūbī to whom a
pasha – in other words a viceroy who was perhaps Abbas (1848–54) or Saïd
(1854–63) – granted land. This ‘Abd Allāh, at 94 years old, had an only son,
Yūsuf, with a concubine (jāriya). This son, who would father seven sons one
of which was Sayyid al-Kabīr, is at the origin of the Sharāmba in the region.
His grandson, another Yūsuf (also known as Sīdī Yūsuf al-Kabīr), who lived
in Hamrā’ and possessed an immense fortune, became a deputy during the
interwar years and opened the first bank account (numbered n°1) at the National Bank Misr in 1922. This fortune, underlined the agricultural engineer,
funded a waqf of 300 feddans that was used only to feed and clothe the poor
from Hamrā’. Yūsuf al-Kabīr lived in a palace (sarāya) – today long gone but
which had originally been situated near the family mausoleum at the center
of the village – surrounded by houses that have either been sold or destroyed. Of this past splendor, impressive vestiges remain such as the guest
house (madyafa) facing the warehouse. The simple guesthouse is already a
palace in and of itself with its immense drawing rooms, its vast dining room,
its many spacious service rooms, its expansive, shaded stoop that leads out
into the gardens. Built in 1949, three years before the Nasserian revolution
and the agricultural reforms, it testifies to the wealth of a family that someduring the second half of the nineteenth century. They are situated in territories
that were already extensively cultivated during the Ottoman period.

180

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

how managed to maintain a portion of its past splendors. The rooms are
practically empty, yet still furnished for receptions and the walls still display
a few photos of Sīdī Yūsuf al-Kabīr, an Azharian with a beautiful moustache
posing with one of his four wives, unveiled, or with one of his sons and his
wife in 1937. Also on the wall is an attestation delivered by the union of the
al-asrāf (niqābat al-ashrāf) to Muhammad ‘Ezzat al-Sayyid al-Sharnūbī – a
great great grandson of Shaykh Yūsuf al-Kabīr – who was the shaykh and
head of the local branch of the family until his recent death in 2005. Not far
from there, at 100 meters, is the mosque where notably Sīdī Yūsuf alSharnūbī was buried – mosque that bore his name and is separated from a
vast mausoleum with a drawing room for funerals, and two immense marble
tombstones where the men and women of this Sharnūbī branch are regrouped separately. Due to the constant risk of water infiltrations, the agricultural engineer elevated the tomb in 1995. A separate funerary room was
added by another of the family’s shaykhs, Shaykh Kamāl al-Dīn al-Sharnūbī
and his wife, who died in the early 1980s. The engineer ‘Alī Ahmad who, in
his childhood, had known the splendor of the Sharnūbīs, tells how Nasser’s
revolution had been catastrophic for the Sharnūbī family who lost much of
its land. However, it is there, in Hamrā’, that the bulk of the land basedwealth of this branch of the Sharāmba’s can be found, a fortune that was
perhaps partially reconstituted under Sadate and Mubarak. According to our
agronomist, it was the official shaykh – Muhammad – that sent the sharaf
certificates, but the family’s saint is Shaykh ‘Ezzat (d. 1982), in Hissat
Ghunaym.
The next stop is al-Hissa or Hissat al-Ghunaymī, a nearby village. The
Sharnūbī mosque is at the edge of a cemetery that displays several saintly
couples, many of whom are Sharnūbīs, starting with Sayyid al-Kabīr, Yūsuf
al-Kabīr’s father buried in Hamrā’, most probably at the end of the nineteenth century. This mosque – the village’s major mosque with a prayer
room measuring 1200 m2 – stands next to the tomb of the famous shaykh
‘Ezzat (d. 1982) and his son Muhammad (d. 2005), as well as that of his
daughter Fatma, whose saintliness was much respected when she died in
2010, and of her husband. Very recent posters, accompanied by photos of
this saintly trinity (father, son, and daughter), decorate the flourishing tomb
that celebrates the Burhāmiyya Sharnūbiyya. Here, true saints are venerated, those found in the brotherhood and spiritual lines; whereas in Hamrā’
the family of notables that finance the region are put on display. It is also
this Sufi tone that can be found with Shaykh Ahmad, son of Shaykh ‘Ezzat
181

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

and brother to Shaykh Muhammad, presented humbly as “el-mohandes
Ahmad”. This one-eyed gentleman in a beige galabiyya, with his gentle yet
focused air, lives very near to the mosque and his house welcomes the
brotherhood meetings as well as visitors in need of comfort. Two village idiots live there. The shaykh talks to us about Sufism and evokes the disposition (mayl) granted by God to a select few to consecrate themselves to God’s
affairs. He insists on the fact that it is circumstances (al-zurūf), notably the
death of his brother, Mohammed (d. 2005) the real shaykh, that encouraged
him to occupy the position he has today. He finds himself unworthy but devout and so therefore, since retirement, has consecrated himself wholeheartedly, to brotherhood affairs, and goes on all the major pilgrimages and
even organizes two to al-Hissa, one in honor of the Prophet and the other in
honor of Sharāmba. As in Sharnūb, he ends with a gift of a collection of
awrād. The Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, which he knows, is nothing more than the
32
summary of a real book that is much bigger and much longer. In al-Hissa,
it is the Sufi brotherhood and the baraka, not the family, that dominate discourse several kilometers from the warehouses of rice and the imposing alHamrā’ mausoleum. The inhabitants’ discourse underlines this difference,
placing fortune on Hamrā’s side and Sufism on al-Hissa’s side; over there
are the prideful (mutakkabirūn), here, the true shaykhs. We need however to
be wary of appearances, since marriage ties unite the two families and in
sum, it is the al-Hamrā’s fortune that finances the al-Hissa brotherhood.
Further to the north, at the edge of the Nile, where the western branch
widens majestically as it flows towards the sea. Another branch, issued from
the Shawādlī, has settled in Dayrūt, in the Mahmūdiyya district on the
banks of the Nile to the north of Disūq. Since Sharnūb, the first to come and
settle in Dayrūt was Sīdī Yūsuf al-Shādhilī al-Sharnūbī al-Suyūfī, the great
grandson of Sīdī ‘Uthmān – buried in Alexandria – and therefore the grandson of Ahmad ‘Arab. This dates settlement in Dayrūt to roughly the start of
the seventeenth century, with the establishment of a large family that would
dominate the village for years to come. An entire cemetery, dense and
squeezed in the middle of many buildings, is dedicated to Shawādlī
Sharnūbī. There, we can find the tombs of Sharnūbī shaykhs and saints
whose names are recited in litany before us. There is for example, the tomb
of Muhammad ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Shādhilī al-Sharnūbī (d. 2009), an Azharian
who founded a Qur’ānic school (a kuttāb) in the middle of the tombs. In this
32

Tā’iyyat al-sulūk, p. 165.

182

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

extreme densification of habitats for the dead and the living, there stands –
at the heart of the cemetery – the zāwiyat al-arba‘īn (the zāwiya of the
forty) dedicated to the forty girls of the family who had learned the Qur’ ān
by heart and died virgins. The zāwiya is very old and was entirely refurbished in 2010 because the floor was fifty centimeters under ground level; a
sure sign of age, as is the name that hints at the location’s pre-Islamic origin. Further along, an entire neighbourhood in the village, clearly ancient as
it is situated on a major sill on the edge of the Nile, belongs to the Sharnūbīs
who live there. The local shaykh, Wahīd Haydar al-Shādilī, is the Hāmidiyya
Shādhiliyya’s delegate (nā’ib), for the Mahmūdiyya district, whereas his
father, Shaykh Haydar (d. 1978), fulfilled the same functions for the entire
Buhayra governorate. It was probably during the 1940s-1950s that Shaykh
Wahīd’s father changed brotherhoods, going from a Hanafī to a Mālikī rite.
His conversion from the Sharnūbiyya to the Hāmidiyya Shādhiliyya certainly demanded this change of rite. The passing centuries, the differences
between brotherhood allegiances, and the differences in legal rites does not
at all imply that the Dayrūt Shawādlī have lost all ties with the other branches of Sharnūbīs. On the contrary, it is impressive to witness their proximity. Shaykh Wahīd is perfectly up to date on the current evolutions in Hamrā’ and Hissa, since Shaykh ‘Ezzat, venerated like a saint in Hissa, and his
descendants are cousins through the women of the family and Shaykh
Wahīd’s own wife is the niece of Shaykh Muhammad ‘Abd al-Majīd alSharnūbī, the current shaykh of Burhāmiyya Sharnūbiyya. Wahīd’s son is a
handsome, aristocratic, and reserved young man in his twenties, who silently accompanied us to his grandfather’s tomb, in front of which Shaykh
Wahīd loudly recited his family’s nasab, which extends past the Prophet, all
the way back to ‘Adnān.
Sīdī Bayyūmī al-Sharnūbī comes from another branch, issued from the
Sabriyya and cousin to the branch that settled in Hissat al-Ghunaym. He
settled – probably at the end of the nineteenth century – in the Dilingat dis trict, in Buhayra, at the ‘Ezbet al-Sharnūbī. It is this branch that produced
the brotherhood’s current shaykh and his first cousin, the current head of
the family; both cousins own lands and homes around Dilingat. This branch
underwent a scission in 1949 when Shaykh Sa‘īd al-Sayyid al-Sharnūbī,
cousin of the acting shaykh of the time – who was Shaykh Muhammad’s
father – and husband to said shaykh’s sister, demanded after having completed the hajj, that his branch become independent, which was officially
granted under the name of al-tarīqa al-Sa‘īdiyya al-Sharnūbiyya. This
183

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

branch settled in Hissat al-Ghunaym and has remained there until today,
coming back to its roots. As he told of the different branches of the Burhāmiyya, including those of branches other than the Sharnūbiyyas, Shaykh
Muhammad summarized the whole in a very instructive fashion. Each brotherhood gives birth to (waldet) another. However, seniority counts. Even
within the brotherhood, family ties, cousins, the rights of elders, all are
metaphors to be taken very seriously. A brotherhood is a family.
It is relatively easy to imagine the family rivalries that certain conversations, as well as certain silences, hint at. The shaykh however obeys law n°
33
118 from 1976 that states that there is only one shaykh per brotherhood.
Here, it is Shaykh Muhammad who leads even if his uncles, having settled a
little everywhere, were also people of intercession (awlād madad), as his
father – the defunct shaykh – had been. Shaykh Muhammad thus summarizes the situation, “The madad can be found everywhere among the descendants, but only the shaykh distributes the cards (beywazze‘ al-kharā’it) in
accordance with the official organization.” The distribution of cards should
be understood in its most literal and concrete definition (the cards being all
at once brotherhood membership cards, association membership cards,
shahādat al-ashrāf certificates), and also certainly in a more figurative sense.
In the end, each shaykh, each head of family, each representative of a place
where the Sharnūbī have settled, has cards to play; each is aware of the other players for the great flexibility of family ties combined with the closeness
of relations that are constantly fortified through the many intermarriages
create a complex and ever-evolving game in which each must remain aware
of the other.

Hagiographic Strata: the Sharnūbī Editorial Policy
Among the many ways to develop the ancestor saint’s heritage, hagiographic writings or devotional texts tied to the family are greatly used by the
saint’s descendants. A series of texts or editions of texts, over four centuries,
confirms the Sharnūbī family’s spiritual and physical filiation with a series
of hagiographic strata that are superimposed and intertwined, and from
which ramifications develop towards other strata and other hagiographies,
whereas oral traditions offer still other paths for the family and the brotherhood’s complex and constantly reformulated memory. The saint’s descendants each have formulated their brotherhood differently, examining incess33 Pierre-Jean Luizard, “Le soufisme égyptien contemporain,” Égypte/Monde arabe,
Première série N° 2, 1990, pp. 36-94.

184

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

antly, each in his own fashion, the genealogy, the ancestor, and the heritage
that has thus been bestowed upon them.
If we try to reconstitute the chronology of the saint’s hagiographies, the
first phase is al-Futūhāt al-ghaybiyya fī bayān al-tarīqa al-sharnūbiyya,
written by Shaykh ‘Alī b. al-shaykh Ahmad al-Sharnūbī, the son of the
34
founding saint, probably at the very start of the seventeenth century. ‘Alī
wrote his book, as not only his father’s son but also as his successor at the
head of the brotherhood. It is as the brotherhood’s shaykh that he offers it
to the disciple-readers and to the saint’s descendants. It is probable that the
text is an account of his father’s miracles linked to the fundamental teach ings of the brotherhood. ‘Alī unites the two, following a hagiographic, family, and brotherhood model that has dominated since; this is at least what
the title would seem to indicate. The explanation of the brotherhood by the
son is also a fairly classical phenomenon in the history of Sufism in which
we witness the father’s charisma transformed into tarīqa by the son-disciple-successor. To our knowledge, no manuscripts of this work have survived and our only knowledge of the text is what was summarily reported
in the following work written not by ‘Alī b. al-Shaykh Ahmad al-Sharnūbī,
but by a disciple of his son, and through the quotes of this second text
penned by Shaykh Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī at the end of the nineteenth
century.
We can nonetheless start to examine the hagiographic construction.
Having lost his father when he was only nine years old, according to hagiography, ‘Alī was in measure to have received at least limited teachings by
his father, and an initiation. His two younger brothers were still very young
children when their father died in Anatolia. Here it was necessarily the
Sharnūbī disciples who initiated the master’s sons into the Path, or who at
the very least, continued their initiation. The initiatory transmission buttressed the genealogical and physical transmission that nobody questioned,
since it is the very foundation of the brotherhood’s succession. The shaykh
who succeeded Ahmad al-Sharnūbī is indeed his own son, even if he was
taught by his father’s disciples. When ‘Alī al-Sharnūbī wrote his book, certainly at the start of the seventeenth century (since he was born around
1577), he talks of his father; but it is to insist on the brotherhood that his
34 This text is quoted in the al-Azhar library catalogue under V, 342. In reality, the
text’s existence is merely alluded to in the catalogue, in the entry on Anwār
qudsiyya. It cannot be found in the al-Azhar library and is utterly unknown to current disciples and shaykhs.

185

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

father’s disciples transmitted to him. The title could not be clearer on this
point.
A second phase, with a text written certainly a little later on and in a
much different style, begins with the surprising Tabaqāt Sharnūbiyya, written down by Muhammad al-Bulqīnī, one of Sharnūbī’s direct disciples, buried in Bulqīn (Egypt). The text dates perhaps to the end of the sixteenth cen35
tury but more probably to the first half of the seventeenth century. The
oldest manuscripts that have survived of this work date back to the 1680s, a
century after Sharnūbī’s death. Bulqīnī recounts his master's tales, which in
turn are accounts of the master’s meetings with Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī and what
the latter had to say. Here, the disciple disappears behind the master as he
writes down his visions. The text is presented as an ahistorical hagiography,
centered on stories of spiritual and prophetic filiation, without ever referring to the Sharnūbiyya family, nor strictly speaking to the tarīqa. It emphasizes however the paternal cousins (awlād ‘amm) that make up the four
Poles (al-aqtāb al-arba‘a, in other words: Ahmad al-Rifā‘ī, ‘Abd al-Qādir alJīlānī, Ahmad al-Badawī, and Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī – all descendants of the
Prophet), and on the primordial tie between Sharnūbī and Disūqī, as well as
on the primacy of Sharnūbī over the famous Egyptian saint and hagiographer Sha‘rānī (d. 1565). The physical family that is highlighted here is not that
of the Sharnūbīs, but rather that of the Ahl al-bayt, descendants of the
Prophet; Sharnūbī is presented as the heir of the four Poles and of the
Muhammadian light that shines in them, and therefore in him, with all its
force and for all of eternity.
The third stage is the al-Anwār al-qudsiyya, a summary (mukhtasar) of
these first two works written by a disciple of ‘Alī al-Sharnūbī, the Master’s
son (najl al-ustādh). At least, this is what a much later source specifies (the
1886 edition of the Tā’iyyat al-sulūk). The Anwār qudsiyya date perhaps
back to the beginning of the second half of the seventeenth century, as they
reformulate in places both the Futūhāt ghaybiyya (written around 1600?)
and the Tabaqāt sharnūbiyya (written between 1600 and 1650?). This barely
known text, with a title that imitates the well-known work of Sha‘rānī, is
mentioned by Brockelmann who ascribes it to a disciple of ‘Alī al-Sharnūbī,
as does the 1949 al-Azhar catalogue (Fihris al-maktaba al-azhariyya, 1949, V,
35 Concerning this complex text and its manuscripts and edited versions, see Marcia
Hermansen, “Miracles Language and Power in a Nineteenth Century Islamic Hagiographic Text,” Arabica, 3, 1991, pp. 326-350; Helena Hallenberg, Ibrāhīm al-Dasūqī,
pp. 26-34 and Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, “La vision du monde,” pp. 132-136.

186

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

342). Indeed, it was in al-Azhar that the only surviving manuscript was
found; or more exactly the only found manuscript that was copied in 1273/
36
1856-1857 and included 219 folios. Its full title is Al-Anwār al-qudsiyya fī lkalām ‘alā l-Tabaqāt al-sharnūbiyya wa l-Futūhāt al-ghaybiyya, in other
words, it compiled and commented the hagiographies of the son (the Futūhāt of ‘Alī al-Sharnūbī) and the disciple (the Tabaqāt of Muhammad alBulqīnī). This sole copy, inventoried in 1949 in the al-Azhar library catalogue, has unfortunately been lost since. Neither the family nor the brotherhood seems to know of this text that was quoted as a source up through the
end of the nineteenth century. The absence of another inventoried text or a
published text suggests that the work was destined to a very limited audience, perhaps only the brotherhood’s shaykhs. The al-Azhar copy dates
back to 1856 – calligraphed perhaps by brotherly piety – a date at which the
text might have been printed.
The fourth step was how publishing and printing at the end of the nineteenth century renewed family and hagiographic memory, a memory that
allowed the brotherhood’s oral tradition to perdure. An Azharian shaykh,
‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī (1348/1929), was one of the many Azharian Sharnūbīs, at the end of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, who allowed the Sharnūbīs to renew their social and brotherhood capital. At roughly thirty, ‘Abd al-Majīd revived his ancestor’s path by editing
and commenting a poem attributed to Sharnūbī, the Tā’iyyat al-sulūk
(sharahahā wa haqqaqaha al-shaykh ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī al-Azharī).
37
The commentary, written in 1302/1884, was published in 1304/1886, with
in its margin, a commentary on the famous Shādhilī text, the Hikam by Ibn
‘Atā’ Allāh al-Iskandarī which the 1304/1886 edition’s frontispiece justifies
thusly, “and for the edification of the disciple in order to attain the Master of
the glorious Throne, the commentator has carefully placed in the margins of
his book his commentary of the Hikam of Ibn ‘Atā’ Allāh.” The primary goal
of the book is the edification of the disciple in the path. The highly developed commentary of the poem of the Tā’iyya, which itself is rather short
and entirely vocalised, includes a short summary of Anwār qudsiyya (pp.
156-165) that does not draw on either the Futūhāt ghaybiyya nor the
36 Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Literatur, Suppl. II, p. 469. This unique manuscript catalogued under Halīm [1945] 33996 has unfortunately “long” disappeared
according to al-Azhar’s librarians. It is very possible that as for the precedent text,
these two manuscript texts still exist in a family; but I found no trace.
37 Yūsuf Sarkīs, Mu‘jam al-matbū‘āt al-‘arabiyya wa l-mu‘arraba, Beirut, Dār Sādir,
pp. 118-119. I consulted one of the editions conserved in al-Azhar.

187

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

Tabaqāt dictated to Bulqīnī. This editorial choice does not mean that ‘Abd
al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī ignored these texts; at the very least, the latter had just
been published (but not by him) in 1863, then in 1865 and 1888. The choice
has more to do with the author’s personality, an Azharian Shādhilī steeped
in fiqh Mālikī, a proofreader for the prestigious Būlāq press, then for the alAzhar press. When publishing an important text for his disciples, his family,
and his brotherhood, he deliberately chose the doctrine over narrative hagiography, Sufi spirituality over brotherhood conflicts, quotes from great Sufi
authors over accounts of miracles. It is why Anwār qudsiyya were not published during the nineteenth century even though it would have been easy
for ‘Abd al-Majīd to do so. He simply sent the reader to al-Azhar’s manuscript of the Anwār qudsiyya; it was also certainly an attempt to restrict access to a text whose Sufi excessiveness was already in danger of being misunderstood by Muslim reformists of the time.
38
Printing added a new chapter to family and hagiographic construction.
For the first time, it was possible to spread, rather widely, teachings that had
until then been reserved for the brotherhood and the family. A wider public
could thus gain access to what had previously been oral and perhaps also
manuscript texts. ‘Abd al-Majīd referred to Ahmad al-Sharnūbī as sayyidī
wa sanadī (my master and ancestor) and stepped aside in favor of his master. ‘Abd al-Majīd's name does not appear in lead position of the cover, but
only after that of Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī, considered to be the true author, with ‘Abd al-Majīd merely the commentator (shārih). The quality of his
comments and the quantity of quotes of classic Sufi authors (Junayd,
Ghazālī…) and Sufi poems demonstrate that the young author was already
very advanced along the path and very conscious of the difficulty of transmission. His comments were designed to revive a Sufi and family tradition,
and to give it a irreproachable orientation by selecting and orienting an ancient work, all the while avoiding the publication of other, more problematic, texts. The Tā’iyyat al-sulūk became the emblematic text for the family
and for the brotherhood, the only known text that still enjoys unanimous
support.
The original publication and each new edition of this text, by definition,
assumed the implication of the brotherhood and therefore the family; they
38 Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, “Sufism and Printing in Nineteenth Century Egypt,” in
Rachida Chih, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Rüdiger Seesemann, eds., Sufism,
Literary Production, and Printing in the Nineteenth Century, Würzburg, Ergon Verlag,
forthcoming.

188

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

were its primary reading audience and certainly its sponsors as was the custom in the nineteenth century. Starting in 1310/1892, a second edition of the
Ta’iyyat al-sulūk appeared during ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī’s lifetime;
poems were added that help date the new edition. Nearly thirty years after
‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī's death, in 1958, a new edition of his text appeared “funded by the grandson of the author, Muhammad al-Husaynī al39
Sharnūbī.” The edition’s original sponsor is explicitly mentioned, not on
the cover but on the first page (Ta’iyyat al-sulūk ilā malik al-mulūk, nazm
Qutb al-wujūd al-‘ārif bi-Llāh Sīdī Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī, sharahahā wa
haqqaqahā al-shaykh ‘Abd al-Majīd al-Sharnūbī al-Azharī, tubi‘a bi-nafaqat
hafīd al-mu’allif Muhammad al-Husaynī al-Sharnūbī bi-Misrī, this confirms
the Sharnūbī family's commitment at each editorial step and creates a new
chain of transmission of sorts, that of the published text. Muhammad alHusaynī al-Sharnūbī, who financed a new edition of the Tā’iyyat al-sulūk
was a bookseller situated in Faggala, Cairo’s modern bookstore neighbourhood (the al-Husaynī bookstore closed several years ago but the store front
can still be seen), near al-Azhar and the sanctuary of al-Husayn, the
Prophet's grandson. The chain had three links across four centuries, but in
reality, it was the submerged silsila of the Sharnūbiyya shaykhs, who had
orally transmitted the Ta’iyyat al-sulūk as their ancestors’ most precious
heritage and the tarīqa sharnūbiyya as the heritage to be developed. What
was equally needed was for one family branch to become professionals in
the book industry from the end of the nineteenth century and throughout
the twentieth (from Būlāq to the al-Azhar library and on to the Faggala
bookstores) and a new vision for the family and brotherhood’s written heritage destined to replace a threatened oral heritage and endangered manuscripts. An oral heritage that does not disappear and leaves discreet written
clues to its existence: one example is with Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh Sāber alSharnūbī (d. 1996), Sharnūb’s saint who wrote a version of the brotherhood’s prayers (awrād) during which he reworks his family’s genealogy.
‘Alī’s filial piety in the seventeenth century, that of ‘Abd al-Majīd in the
nineteenth century, or yet again the same sentiment displayed by Muham 39 Roughly twenty years later, in 1400/1980, a new facsimiled edition came out of this
last text, with the same notes and titles. Perhaps it was really the bookseller’s son,
Muhammad Muhammad al-Husaynī al-Sharnūbī, who allowed this last edition; graciously lent to me by Professor Denis Gril and to whom I am grateful. It was the
Professor’s copy that I brandished during my first visit to Sharnūb (February 2010)
to open all doors and loosen all tongues. All those I encountered in the street seemed to know the Tā’iyyat al-sulūk almost by heart!

189

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

mad al-Husaynī al-Sharnūbī, the bookseller, in the twentieth century are all
examples of brotherhood piety at the service of one family. The disciple
dominates the descendant; but it is always a Sharnūbī who displays the calling to express the meaning inherent in a saintly life, the life of his ancestor,
and to repeat the nasab – the genealogy that is also his own. Only Muhammad al-Bulqīnī presents himself as merely the spokesperson for his master,
to the point of disappearing as the author of the Tabaqāt sharnūbiyya. As
for the other texts, even though the initiatory filiation and the transmission
of Sufi heritage prevails at the heart of these different works and the various
editions, it is their saintly ascendance that gives ‘Alī around 1600, ‘Abd alMajīd in 1886, his grandson Muhammad near 1958, and Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh
Sāber al-Sharnūbī (d. 1996) at the end of the twentieth century the particular
right to take possession of a poem, a hagiography, or of brotherhood orations, from the viewpoint of prophetic genealogy.
A final sort of text deserves examination: the different anthologies of
orations that belong uniquely to the Sharnūbiyya (awrād). There are certainly several versions; however the most widespread today among the
Sharnūb disciples was compiled by Shaykh ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad Yūsuf
Sāber al-Sharnūbī (d. 1996). This new saint, today venerated in a tomb built
for him in Sharnūb two years before his death, has renewed the charisma of
the Sharnūbī shaykhs. He compiled the Awrād al-tarīqa al-sharnūbiyya alburhāmiyya al-muhammadiyya, and presents himself as a shaykh of the
brotherhood, endowed with both the hasab and the nasab (shaykh al-tarīqa:
al-hasīb al-nasīb ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad al-Sāber al-Sharnūbī). The text
starts with the Fātiha about the four Poles (aqtāb), then about the shaykh
‘Abd Allāh himself, the Fātiha about the brothers and sons on the path.
Prayers about the Prophet are followed by a poem of five small pages (duodecimo format) that list the names of the nisba sharnūbiya husayniyya, in
other words, the physical genealogy of the Sharnūbīs, the one that makes
40
them descendants of the Prophet. Another compilation of the awrād, common in Hamrā’, offers other devotional poems. Finally, Sufi devotional manuscripts, such as the one I saw in Dayrūt, also use biographical elements, in
particular the saint or the author’s nasab. These machine-typed awrād an40 This should be compared with the official nasab. We start with ‘Abd Allāh al-Sharnūbī (p. 10), his father Muhammad (p. 10), Ahmad al-Mas‘ūd; Ahmad ‘Arab (the sixteenth century saint); ‘Uthmān (his father, buried in Alexandria); Ahmad and ‘Alī;
Yūsuf; Sulaymān; Qamar al-dawla; Hasan; Ibrāhīm; Kāzim; Ja‘far; Zayn al-‘Ābidīn;
Sayyid al-Shuhadā’ Husayn; Fātima; and finally the Prophet.

190

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

thologies are photocopied as needed, whereas the nasabs are now stocked
on the shaykhs’ hard drives. Perhaps the Sharnūbīs no longer need printed
texts.

A Family Brotherhood in our Contemporary Era:
the Shaykh, the Agricultural Engineer, and the Holy Man
The description of several Sharnūbī households has allowed us to better
grasp the importance of the Egypt of viceroys in the consolidation of the
landed fortune of the Sharnūbīs and the rise of new branches of the brotherhood-family. This important phase was followed by an Azharian moment in
the history of the Sharnūbīs; towards the end of the nineteenth and the first
decades of the twentieth century, the Sharnūbī shaykhs were all Azharians,
notably Sīdī Yūsuf al-Kabīr or Shaykh ‘Abd al-Majīd; but this is no longer
the case. Of course, some Sharnūbīs still study at al-Azhar, such as the current imām-khatīb of Sharnūb or the deceased founder of the Dayrūt kuttāb,
but they occupy a relatively lower rung in society and even within the family. The family, as early as the Nasserian era, has always given over the best
roles to university graduates or engineers, those members with political and
economic power. More modest Sufis, even farmers such as Shaykh ‘Ezzat of
Sharnūb, can nevertheless play an important role within the brotherhood,
but not at the head of the family. The period of Sharnūbī ‘ulamā’ has ended,
the result of the pauperisation of ulemas. The shaykh of the Sharnūbiyya
tarīqa, who studied trade and finances, wears suits and works for the gov ernment, explains Sharnūbī ‘Ezzat ‘Abd Allāh proudly, himself a farmer
dressed in a galabiyya and designated successor of the khalīfa of the Sharnūbiyya in Sharnūb. The former lives on Nebī Daniel street, at the heart of
Alexandria, and also owns a villa in ‘Agamī (a resort town near Alexandria)
and a house in the family ‘ezba in Dilingat; whereas the latter lives very
frugally in a house in Sharnūb. This is what is expected of the acting
shaykh, this official role that allows him to negotiate with the State, to talk
with the shaykhs of other brotherhoods, and to achieve a global vision of
the Burhāmiyya’s dealings; the Sharnūbiyya is only a branch of this larger
entity, a fact that is ever-present in the minds of all.
How to go on, how to evolve? These are the questions that each of the
Sharnūbīs, in his category, asks himself concerning whatever responsibility
he has been entrusted with. The family had to survive land reforms and
most probably reconstitute their landed fortune; family ties certainly played
a role in artificially dividing up the substantial amount of property that re191

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

mained between cousins and brothers-in-law. Shaykh Muhammad (born in
1942) told me proudly that he had sold none of the Dilingāt property (ard
al-‘ā’ila), which indicates that this was not an easy feat. The necessary arrangements between brothers and cousins were decisive. However, is the
land still a main source of wealth and power in contemporary Egypt? The
relative impoverishment of the Sharnūbiyya and of its disciples was made
visible when the Sudanese Burhāniyya arrived in Egypt, managed by
wealthy traders with powerful networks. Their shaykh, Mukhtar ‘Alī Muhammad, created a farm (mazra‘a) in the desert to support his brotherhood,
which is now authorized in Egypt after having long been forbidden.
This concurrence explains perhaps the recent innovation that first appeared twenty years ago. The association (rābitat Āl al-Sharnūbī), officially
founded in 2006, aims to reunite the saint’s descendants. Both women and
men can join as long as they descend, by either their father or mother, from
the original Sharnūbī family and have filled out a form that is carefully examined by the association’s council. They then receive a small card that features a world map, slightly overshadowed by the word Allāh, with a photo
on the back. The card resembles the cards from any other Egyptian association. As for entering the association itself, it is one’s origins (al-asl) that
count. How though do they go about proving this? As the Sharāniba have
told me, it is difficult to discern a true descendant of the saint Sharnūbī and
those who in the past had called their sons Sharnūbī through pure devotion
(tabarruk) to the saint, and whose family finally acquired the name, without
mentioning those individuals who have this nisba for perhaps purely geographical reasons for they were born in Sharnūb. Stakes are high for it
means distinguishing real ashrāf, those who have a nasab, and possible
usurpers. Aside from owning a copy of the famous silsila in one’s home, it
would seem that their system relies on co-optation by cousins; the skills of
Egyptian genealogists do wonders in such situations. As for the benefit association (jam‘iyya khayriyya), tied to the association, it is extended to the
spouses of the Sharnūbīs, even if they are not related to the saint. The
jam‘iyya functions as a sort of cooperative; the shaykh Fath Allāh of Damanhūr, head of the Buhayra association, was given a loan of 20 000 Egyptian
pound to take care of his ailing son. The difficulties of modern life, secularisation, the financial crisis, the lack of time and energy to bring everyone together, have all contributed to the fact that the association has not developed as he would have liked, Shaykh Fath Allāh tells me with regret. “He
doesn't know anything,” Shaykh Muhammad affirms strenuously; an affirm192

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

ation that has since been confirmed with field investigations. Perhaps the
association has already accomplished its main role: to retrieve Sīdī ‘Uthmān’s tomb in Alexandria, on the one hand, and to acquire new lands in the
desert on the other to ensure the family’s permanence.
This was the association’s main goal: to buy land near al-‘Ālamayn, on
the coast to the west of Alexandria, in the name of the rābita. These 4200
feddans (roughly 1764 ha) to be developed, was proudly named “Wāhat alSharnūbī,” the Sharnūbī oasis. This new family creation is a chance to bring
everyone together around a common project (‘ashān tegma‘ al-‘ēla, ahfād
Ahmad ‘Arab al-Sharnūbī). Thus the Sharnūbiyya invents at each era new
ways of existing in the world in order to remain and maintain its reasons for
being a part of this world.

Conclusion:
Muhammadian Light and a Family Association
The Sharnūbī family is typical. Current day Egypt is home to hundreds of
similar brotherhood-family branches, even if they are not always as old nor
as powerful. They have rarely been studied and even less so in a family context. The ashrāf in Egypt are also little studied despite their importance for
the social history of the Egyptian elite for the past several centuries.
The uninformed researcher, myself, had gone to Sharnūb simply to see
if a trace of the sixteenth century saint – mentioned in an ahistorical hagio graphy of the seventeenth century – had survived until today there. Ever
since that day when I roamed blindly in the streets of Sharnūb with only the
Tā’iyyat al-sulūk in hand to guide me, it has felt like I opened a door onto a
world of rich, multiple facets, a living coherent universe that we can easily
go right past without ever noticing, something akin to the non-magical individuals in Harry Potter who literally do not see the quay to the Hogwarts’
train in the London station. After several days of field research amongst the
Sharnūbīs, in all sorts of situations, in villages or cities, with the rich and the
poor, two things stood out among those I spoke to. The first was their
awareness of sharing something, of playing different roles in a common
mission. This consciousness is clearly apparent in Shaykh ‘Ezzat, the farmer,
in the agricultural engineer ‘Alī Ahmad; in Shaykh Muhammad or in his
cousins; in the humble retiree destined by circumstances to take up the
brotherhood’s torch after the unexpected death of his brother the shaykh.
The second element is the consciousness of a responsibility that is gravely
or joyously assumed, depending on the circumstances. They all assumed
193

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

their responsibilities and not one would dream of taking advantage of the
situation without considering the implications of their act for Sharnūbī’s
identity. The transmission of a heritage (as well as a memory) is at stake.
What does it mean to descend from a saint? What responsibilities does this
confer to physical or spiritual descendants of Sharnūbī?
A new question has appeared that has never been directly or explicitly
addressed, though it is unavoidably present. Women are increasingly influential, or at the very least, are much more visible, in the genealogies, with
access to visible holiness. A prime example is the family association in
which the spouses can benefit from revenues that had until now been given
over only to descendants of the saint. In genealogies, in the reputation of
holiness, women are now named; this was not the case for women in the
past, aside from the Forty Virgins of the Shādlī Sharnūbī family who belong
more to family myth and lore than anything else. The time has not yet come
for a Sharnūbī daughter to succeed her father, it is still the men who run the
family and the brotherhood. Smaller families and fewer number of children
ensure that in the years to come, the issue of renewing the brotherhood will
be profoundly restructured.
The Sharnūbiyya’s current shaykh, born in 1942, had seven girls, all university graduates, married to doctors, accountants, one lawyer, and an officer. However, he had no sons, which certainly explains the unusually high
number of children for a man of his generation and his social class. Nicknamed Abū l-banāt (Father of girls) by his Alexandrian neighbours, he probably hoped for many years for the birth of a son and an heir. The seven
daughters of Shaykh Sharnūbī have given him eighteen grandchildren, both
boys and girls. The shaykh however decided on his nephew, his sister’s son,
to become his successor. This designated heir is also the son of a Sharnūbī, a
first cousin to his mother. This makes him not only the nephew of the current shaykh but also the great grandson of the former shaykh. The succession must take place in this way because lahā nizām, “it is the law,” “it must
continue so with us,” lāzem tekammel ‘andenā. Shaykh Sharnūbī does not
talk of a conservative permanence but rather of continuity and transmission,
of dynamic evolution, along the same lines as Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s novel, Il Gattopardo.
It is possible, even probable, that many of Shaykh Ahmad ‘Arab’s descendants are no longer concerned with their ancestors, and even less with
Sufism. We can even hypothesize that many do not even know that their
ancestor is this saint that has long been forgotten by others. However, it is
194

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

clear that where a certain cohesion has survived, there is a constant reference to the holiness of the ancestor and to, at least a latent version of the
holiness of his descendants. The heads of the Sharnūbī family have maintained with constance and application a relative cohesion, endlessly undone
and reworked. At the beginning, and still at the heart of the renewal is the
issue of holiness. The transmission of Muhammadian light is the key to this
holiness: from Adam to the Prophet, from the Prophet to Disūqī and to
Sharnūbī, from Disūqī to Sharnūbī (in a subtle fashion) and from Badawī to
Sharnūbī (via Qamar al-Dawla)... This is the key explanation of this endless
insistence on genealogy and the saint’s family, as well as on the silsila, in a
headlong quest for the Prophet’s intercession, the ultimate intercessor. A
form of local and collective baraka, almost anonymous, emanates from the
Sharnūbīs; a baraka of which they are conscious even when they judge
themselves unworthy of it or have been deemed unworthy by others. Today,
as in the past, saints have flourished in this favorable soil. Among modern
saints, the descendants of Sharnūbī, are Sīdī ‘Abd Allāh Sāber in Sharnūb,
Sīdī Ibrāhīm and Sīdī ‘Ezzat in Hissa near Kafr al-Shaykh, Sīdī ‘Abd al-Majīd
in Kedwa. Some even founded branches of the brotherhood, such as
Sa‘īdiyya Sharnūbiyya, or have gone over to other brotherhoods, without
breaking ties with their family, such as in Dayrūt. It is this constant renewal
that allows the oldest saints to fade away, even to disappear, because they
are replaced. The presence of Sharnūbī and of his baraka remains nonetheless alive because it is from him that the link to the Prophet can be retraced,
because he is the one who founded the brotherhood, at least in theory.
In discussions with descendants that do not belong to the brotherhood, a
threat to the heritage surfaces, a threat due to lack of time, to increasing secularisation, to the loss of texts. This is something that the older generations
express more or less; but also certain younger individuals such as imāmkhatīb from Sharnūb. The informer, living in Sharnūb, who claims to know
the most about the Sharnūbī legend, is a former body guard to President
Sadat, who went on to become a practicing magician. He claims to know
more about their story than the descendants themselves, even though he
does not have any ties to the family of Sharāniba. The rest of my enquiries
would prove that his claims were not purely braggadocio; more precisely,
his version was the closest match to ancient written sources. It would however be wrong to conclude with the passage of the brotherhood to the family, or with the inevitable secularisation of a disappearing world, or with the
ineluctable explosion of a considerably vast family with sometimes ill-defin195

CATHERINE MAYEUR-JAOUEN

ed contours and whose members obviously display highly variable forms of
allegiance. Spending time with the Sharāniba demonstrates that the brotherhood’s memory does not necessarily resist any better than family memory;
however it is thanks to the brotherhood memory that the family’s version is
sustained. In the end, it is the shaykhs of the brotherhood who know where
they come from and who they are; which is not the case for the descendants
of the Sharnūbīs, when removed from his spiritual heritage. It is true that it
is the Sufis that remain most connected with specific places: Sharnūb, Hissa,
Hamrā’, Dayrūt. Everywhere I went, I learned of the renovation of mausoleums and mosques, of the construction of new buildings, of editions or copies of ancient texts, of family ties that were endlessly reworked and modified by matrimonial alliances and by the almost daily recitation by the
shaykhs themselves of the nasabs that have shaped their entire existence.
All continue to consider Sharnūbī their holy ancestor, one of the Ahl albayt in whom shines the Prophet’s light, who houses within himself the heritage of Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī, the other descendant of the Prophet. It is for this
living heritage that each, according to his charisma, continues to organize
the Sharāniba’s mawlid, to train their sons and nephews, to marry cousins,
to watch over their fields, to recite their nasab.

Bibliography
Primary sources
Awrād al-tarīqa al-sharnūbiyya al-burhāmiyya al-muhammadiyya, shaykh altarīqa al-hasīb al-nasīb Sīdī Muhammad ‘Izzat al-Sayyid al-Sharnūbi, Kafr
al-Shaykh, Matba‘at al-Najāh, n.d.
Awrād al-tarīqa al-sharnūbiyya al-Burhāmiyya al-Muhammadiyya, shaykh altarīqa al-hasīb al-nasīb al-shaykh ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad al-Sābir alSharnūbī.
al-Sharnūbī, ‘Abd al-Majīd, Tā’iyyat al-sulūk ilā malik al-mulūk, Cairo,
Matkabat al-Qāhira, 1400/1980.
al-Tabaqāt al-sharnūbiyya (Tabaqāt al-‘allām al-shaykh Ahmad al-Sharnūbī
yadhkuru fīhā manāqib al-awliyā’ al-arba‘a wa karāmāt ashāb al-‘ashā’ir),
Cairo, 1863.
al-Tabarī al-Makkī, Muhibb al-Dīn Ahmad ibn ‘Abd Allāh, Les trésors de la
postérité ou les proches parents du Prophète, édition critique et traduction
annotée par Frédéric Bauden, Textes arabes et études islamiques, Cairo,
Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2004.

196

NASAB, BARAKA, AND LAND

Studies
Cuno, Kenneth M., “Joint Family Households and Rural Notables in 19 th Century
Egypt,” International Journal of Middle East Studies, 27, 1995, pp. 485-502.
Id., The Pasha’s Peasants. Land, Society, and Economy in Lower Egypt, 1740-1858,
Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1992.
De Jong, Frederick, Turuq and Turuq-Linked Institutions in Nineteenth Century
Egypt. A Historical Study in Organization Dimensions of Islamic Mysticism,
Leiden, Brill, 1978.
Delanoue, Gilbert, Moralistes et politiques musulmans dans l’Égypte du XIXe siècle
(1798-1882), Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 1982.
Hallenberg, Helena, Ibrāhīm al-Disūqī (1255-1296) – a Saint Invented, Ph. D.,
Department of Asian and African Studies, University of Helsinki, 1997.
Hermansen, Marcia, “Miracles Language and Power in a 19 th Century Islamic
Hagiographic Text,” Arabica, 3, 1991, pp. 326-350.
Hoffmann, Valerie J. Sufism, Mystics, and Saints in Modern Egypt, Columbia,
University of South Carolina Press, 1995.
Luizard, Pierre-Jean, “Le soufisme égyptien contemporain,” Égypte/Monde arabe,
Première série N° 2, 1990, pp. 36-94.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, Al-Sayyid al-Badawî, un grand saint de l’islam
égyptien, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 1994.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine and Nicolas Michel, “Cheikhs, zāwiya-s et confréries
du Delta central : un paysage religieux autour du XVIe siècle,” in
Mohammad Afifi, Rachida Chih, Brigitte Marino, Nicolas Michel and Işık
Tamdoğan, eds., Sociétés rurales ottomanes. Ottoman Rural Societies, Cairo,
Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2005, pp. 139-162.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, “La vision du monde par une hagiographie
anhistorique de l’Égypte ottomane. Les Tabaqāt sharnūbiyya et les quatre
Pôles,” in Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Rachida Chih, eds., Le Soufisme à
l’époque ottomane/ Sufism in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut Français
d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, pp. 128-150.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, “Sufism and Printing in Nineteenth Century Egypt,”
in Rachida Chih, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Rüdiger Seesemann, eds.,
Sufism, Literary Production, and Printing in the Nineteenth Century,
Würzburg, Ergon Verlag, forthcoming.
Michel, Nicolas, “Les rizaq ihbāsiyya, terres agricoles en mainmorte dans
l’Égypte mamelouke et ottomane. Étude sur les Dafâtir al-ahbās
ottomans,” Annales islamologiques, 30, 1996, p. 105-198.
es-Seyyid Mahmud, Seyyid Muhammad, XVI. Asırda Mısır Eyâleti, Istanbul,
Edebiyat Fakültesi Basımevi, 1990.
Trimingham, John S., The Sufi Orders in Islam, Oxford, Oxford University Press,
1971.

197

Shurafāʾ and Sufis:
the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya
in Contemporary Morocco

Rachida Chih
The Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya has been growing rapidly in Morocco since the
1980s at least. It was founded in the 1960s by Sīdī al-‘Abbās al-Qādirī Būdshīsh (d. 1972). Today, his son Sīdī Hamza (born in 1922) directs it from its
original zāwiya in Madāgh, near Berkane, in the northeast of Morocco. The
Qādirī Būdshīsh present themselves as shurafā’ (or “chorfa,” descendants of
1
the Prophet): according to the family’s genealogy, the name Qādirī indicates kinship ties with the great saint of Baghdad, ‘Abd al-Qādir al-Jīlanī
(twelfth century); as for Būdshīsh, it is a nick-name (laqab) given to an ancestor who lived during the eighteenth century, Sīdī ‘Alī, because he had
nourished the people with a soup made from cracked wheat, the dashīsha
2
(or tashīsha) during a period of famine.
The qādirī ancestor is said to have left Iraq in the seventeenth century to
come and settle among the Banī Khaled tribe, in the Berber mountains of the
Banī Iznassen on the northern frontier between Morocco and today’s Alger3
ia, where the family continued to live until 1910. In the wake of certain
political events that we will discuss below, the ancestor, Sīdī Mukhtār (d.
1914), decided to leave the mountains and settle in the plain of Berkane, in
1

2

3

They are described as such in the archives of the administration of the French Protectorate, “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,”
inventary 11, region of Oujda, carton 177, 1950-1953, Centre des archives diplomatiques, Nantes, cited in Okacha Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, dirāsa
mu‘azzaza bi-l-wathā’īq, Rabat, Bouregreg, 2004, p. 30. For more on the family’s genealogy, see Ahmed Qustās, Nibrās al-murīd fī tarīq al-tawhīd, al-Muhammadiyya,
Fadāla Press, 1994, pp. 36-37; And the website of the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya, www.tariqa.org
Ahmad al-Ghazzālī, Musāhama fī’l-bahth ‘an zawāyā Banī Iznāssen. Al-Qādiriyya
al-Būdshīshiyya namūdhajān, Rabat, Bouregreg, 2005, p. 68. Another, more mystical
tradition is reported on the origins of this laqab: the same Sīdī ‘Alī, in the company
of a group of aspirants had one day visited a saint who was well known in the region. The saint welcomed them by offering them a dish of peasant food, dashīsha.
While his companions barely touched the food, Sīdī ‘Alī ate with such appetite that
there wasn’t a crumb left. The saint then declared: “You can all depart, it is Bū
dshīsha who has taken everything (that is to say, who has inherited the baraka of
the saint).” A. Qustās, Nibrās al-Murīd, p. 36.
A. al-Ghazzālī, Musāhama fī’l-bahth ‘an zawāyā Banī Iznāssen, p. 17.

198

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

Madāgh, where the family still lives today. In 1950, the administration of the
French Protectorate mentions that among the Banī Khaled there are “nineteen groups of Idrisī shurafā’, but four or five of them have either played a
part in the local history of this country or currently exert an influence on its
4
population”. Among these influential lineages, according to the French, is
that of the Qādirī Būdshīsh as represented by Sīdī Mustafā, the grandson of
Sīdī Mukhtār. He had inherited the zāwiya on the death in 1936 of his father, Sīdī al-Makkī, who was Sīdī Mukhtār’s eldest son; he later left Madāgh as
a result of a conflict with his uncle, Sīdī al-‘Abbās, moving his family to Bū
Yahyā his ancestors are buried. He represents the most important branch of
the Qādirī Būdshīsh. But the French observers considered Sīdī al-‘Abbās,
who stayed behind in Madāgh, to be the one who should be watched: “He is
the representative of the ‘Alawiyya, a Sufi order that is on the point of becoming the most important in the region because of the personality and dy 5
namism of its shaykh.”
Thus it is from the archives of the Protectorate, as exploited by a Moroccan historian to demonstrate the ‘alawī (and therefore Algerian) roots of the
Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya, that we learn that the order was born from a split
at the heart of the familial clan, that is, from a disagreement between an
6
uncle and his nephew, the heir of the lineage. These archives, even though
they are not very extensive, are the only documents that we have been able
to consult that do not come from within the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya. We
can, in fact, study the rise of this family and its passage from being a local
group of shurafā’ to being an organised Sufi Order through the existing internal documentation of the Būdshīshiyya, which is similar to genealogical
literature (ansāb). This genre, which flourished in Morocco from the fifteenth century, when Sharifism developed, blends historical facts and hagio7
graphical tales; it presents the family’s historiography. In the case of Būdshīshī literature, the family’s memory, as recalled by Sīdī al-‘Abbās and his
son Sīdī Hamza and related to their disciples, has been documented and put
into writing, and these memories are centred upon the miraculous deeds of
4
5
6
7

“Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 25.
“Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. La zaouia Alliouya Boutchichiya. 2
juin 1953,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 30.
O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, op. cit.
Évariste Lévi-Provençal, Historiens des Chorfa, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, [1922]
2001; Mohamed Kably, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc à la fin du Moyen Âge,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 1986.

199

RACHIDA CHIH

the ancestors. The history presented in these writings diverges, as we shall
see, from the facts as reported by colonial administrators. This literature
must therefore be read as a construct, one whose constituent threads we
will untangle. They are a blend of origin myth (nasab), spiritual transmission (sanad) and the rhetoric of tajdīd (religious renewal), with the aim of
8
capturing and legitimising religious authority.

The Origins of the Family’s Charisma
The charisma of the family is anchored in the pre-colonial history of Morocco and in the resistance by the tribes to the French invasion. In 1845, the
treaty of Maghniya, between France and the Sultan of Morocco, Mūlay ‘Abd
al-Rahmān (r. 1822-1859), established a line for the border between Morocco
and Algeria; this line divided the territory of the Banī Khāled and provoked
9
an uprising on both sides of the new frontier. We can learn from Būdshīshī
historiography that a certain Sīdī Mukhtār al-Kabīr (d. circa 1852), the greatgreat-grandfather of the current shaykh of the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya,
joined in the emir ‘Abd al-Qādir al-Jazā’irī’s resistance struggle against the
10
French occupation. This Sīdī Mukhtār had been designated as the repres11
entative (muqaddam) of the Qādiriyya in the lands of the Banī Iznassen by
the emir’s father, Shaykh Muhyī al-dīn, spiritual master of this Sufi order in
western Algeria and north-eastern Morocco. The emir’s defeat in 1847
brought a temporary halt to the resistance in this region of Morocco, a re12
gion which traditionally had refused to submit to the Sultan. From that
time on, the French presence in Morocco meant that the charisma of the
8

The Būdshīshiyya promotes openness and publicity: as well as the numerous writings they have produced there is also a website, and the order has received much attention in the Moroccan media since 2000. For this article, we have used the writings
in Arabic of A. Qustās, Nibrās al-Murīd, op. cit.; Muhammad al-Rihat, Al-Da’wa ilāAllāh fī rihāb al-tasawwuf, Casablanca, Al-Najah al-Jadīda Press, 1996; A. al-Ghazzālī, Musāhama fī’l-bahth ‘an zawāyā Banī Iznāssen, op. cit.; Muhammad Benya’ich,
Al-Tarīqa al-Qādiriyya al-Būdshīshiyya, shaykh wa manhāj tarbiyya, Tetouan, Matba‘a al-Khalīj al-‘Arabī, 1999. It is interesting to note that all of these authors were
trained at Dār al-Hadīth al-Hassaniyya, an institute for higher religious studies created in the 1960s from which the order recruited many of its ideologues.
9 Abdallah Laroui, L’histoire du Maghreb, Casablanca, Centre culturel arabe, 2001, p.
295 ; see also O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 39.
10 A. Qustās, Nibrās al-murīd, p. 35 (The facts are mentioned in a history of the great
city of the Moroccan north-east, Oujda: Ismā‘īl ‘Abd al-Hamīd, Tārīkh Ujda, 1979, 2
volumes, vol. 1, p. 128).
11 His zāwiya was, at the time, situated in Taghjirt, among the Banī Khāled. See A. alGazzālī, Musāhama fī’l-bahth ‘an zawāyā Banī Iznāssen, op. cit.
12 A. Laroui, L’histoire du Maghreb, p. 294.

200

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

Qādirī Būdshīsh, one constituent of which was already a tradition of hospitality and generosity as incarnated in the ancestor Sīdī ‘Alī, was also
aflame with jihād, the holy war against the Christian invader, which was inherited by Sīdī Mukhtār’s grandson, also called Sīdī Mukhtār, with the nickname al-Mujāhid (the one who carries out Holy War).

Sīdī Mukhtār al-Mujāhid (d. 1914)
For reasons that were at once political and religious, the Qādiriyya lost
some of its influence during the second half of the nineteenth century, in
the Maghreb as much as in sub-Saharan Africa. Its leaders were dispersed
after the defeat by the French army – ‘Abd al-Qādir al-Jazā’irī (d. 1883) and
his close disciples exiled themselves in the Middle East – and the rise in
power and influence of the Tijāniyya and of the Darqāwiyya brought with it
13
a weakening of the Qādiriyya. The teachings of the emir ‘Abd al-Qādir, impregnated with akbarian mysticism (from shaykh al-Akbar, Ibn ‘Arabī, d.
1240), were addressed to literate people. In West Africa too, the Qādiriyya
14
appeared to be a scholarly order, reserved for an elite. The Tijāniyya and
the Darqāwiyya, on the other hand, showed themselves to be more accessible: they encouraged group dhikr sessions, accompanied by dancing and, in
the case of the Darqāwiyya, by singing. In this way they created a stronger
15
sense of belonging. Their founders were imposing and charismatic figures:
16
Ahmad al-Tijānī (d. 1815) presented himself as the “Seal of the Saints” ,
while Shaykh al-‘Arbī al-Darqāwī (d. 1823) was considered by his disciples
as a mujaddid, the reviver of spirituality in the Maghreb, and called the Pole
of the circumference (qutb al-dā’ira) because, according to hagiographical
17
sources, he initiated tens of thousands of disciples.
A Darqāwiyya zāwiya was founded in the final quarter of the nineteenth century in the mountains of the Banī Iznassen, by Shaykh Muhammad al-Habrī (sometimes spelled al-Hibrī, d. 1898). This group of Darqāwā,
13 Ahmad Būkārī (or Bū Kārī), Al-Ihyā wa al-tajdīd fī’l-Maghrib 1204-1330/1790-1912,
[Rabat?], Al-Mamlaka al-Maghribiya, Wizārat al-awqāf, 2006.
14 Jean-Louis Triaud, “La Qâdiriyya en Afrique de l’ouest,” Journal of the History of
Sufism, The Qâdiriyya Order, 1-2, 2000, pp. 245-259.
15 Mostafa Zekri, “La Tarīqa Shādhiliyya Darqāwiyya : les “empreintes” du cheikh
al-‘Arabī al-Darqāwī,” in Eric Geoffroy, ed., Une voie soufie dans le monde, la Shādhiliyya, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 2005, p. 232.
16 Jean-Louis Triaud and David Robinson, La Tijaniyya, une confrérie à la conquête de
l’Afrique, Paris, Karthala, 2003.
17 Abdelbaqî Meftah, “L’initiation dans la Shādhiliyya-Darqāwiyya,” in E. Geoffroy, ed.,
Une voie soufie dans le monde, p. 237.

201

RACHIDA CHIH

the largest and the most active in the north-east of Morocco and the region
18
of Oran, took over the Qādiriyya’s call for jihād against the French when,
after having pacified Algeria, these last attacked Morocco militarily from
what was called the eastern province (sharqiyya). Then the agreements of
1901 and 1902 between France and Morocco, about the borders between Algeria and Morocco, once again triggered a rebellion among the Berber
tribes. In 1907 a muqaddam of Shaykh al-Habrī in his turn led another uprising of the Banī Iznassen tribes, which brought about the definitive occupation of Oujda by the French in the same year. Sīdī Mukhtār al-Mujāhid (d.
1914), a Qādirī Būdshīsh, joined in with this jihād – he was the grandson of
19
Sīdī Mukhtār al-Kabīr.
A trace of this episode remains to us in a photo taken by the French, of
“the capture of the marabout Sidi Mokhtar Boutchich (December 1907)” that
appeared in the edition of the magazine L’Illustration dated January 1908.
This photo is part of Būdshīshī iconography. It shows a harsh, mountainous
landscape; in the centre of the foreground a venerable elder sits next to his
horse. His long beard and his turban are as white as the djellaba (loose long
robe) in which he has proudly wrapped himself. His face is emaciated and
20
he is staring into the lens. The French reported the facts as follows: “Sidi
Mokhtar has crystallised his religious influence among the Bānī Snassen by
proclaiming Holy War against France in 1907 at the time of the arrival of
our troops in the Amalat of Oujda.” But his family felt that Sīdī Mukhtār had
21
been betrayed, abandoned and then imprisoned by General Lyautey and
22
his men; these events left their mark on the young ‘Abbās.
When he had been freed, Sīdī Mukhtār left the village of Bū Yahyā and
went to live in the zāwiya he had built in Madāgh. Būdshīshī literature explains his departure from the ancestral lands as an act of independence,
which permitted the family to constitute itself as an autonomous branch of
the Algerian Qādiriyya. In this, they take up the French administration’s interpretation of these events: “Reduced to impotence, captured and interned
at Marnia, he is given his freedom only after having promised to use his religious influence to re-establish peace among the Bānī Snassen. He keeps his
18 “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 31.
19 O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, op. cit.
20 L’Illustration, number 3387, 25 January 1908.
21 Hubert Lyautey (d. 1934) was a general in the French Army and the first Resident-General in Morocco from 1912 to 1925.
22 al-Rihat, Al-Da’wa ilā Allāh, p. 106.

202

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

promise: he devotes himself to the affairs of his order – whose independence he proclaims – takes the title of shaykh and sets up his now-autonom ous zaouia in Madagh in the Triffas, where he dies during the First World
23
War.” Regardless of the reasons for his departure, the French administrators are nevertheless not mistaken when they write that it is with Sīdī
Mukhtār that “the importance of the Boutchichiye, which until now has
been modest – they are only simple moqaddemines of a foreign order – will
24
suddenly increase.”
The Darqāwiyya would remain influential in the region until the end of
the Protectorate (1912-1956). During those years it gave birth to dynamic
branches, such as that founded by the Algerian darqāwī, Shaykh Ahmad
al-‘Alawī (or Ben ‘Alīwa, d. 1934) and called the ‘Alawiyya. The Qādiriyya
Būdshīshiyya was also born of the Darqāwiyya at this time, thanks to the
meeting between the sharīf Sīdī al-‘Abbās al-Qādirī Būdshīsh, and a qādirīdarqāwī-tijānī master, Sīdī Bū Madyan Munawwar Būdshīsh (d. 1955), the
25
cousin and brother-in-law of Sīdī al-‘Abbās. The archives of the Protectorate make the Būdshīshiyya out to be a branch of the ‘Alawiyya, a thesis that
is refuted, as we shall see, by Būdshīshī tradition.

Sīdī Bū Madyan Ben Munawwar Būdshīsh
Basing himself on the colonial archives, the historian Okacha Berahab wrote
first an article (in 2000) and then a book (in 2004) in which he upholds the
26
French thesis of the Algerian roots of the Būdshīshiyya. In the archives,
Sīdī Bū Madyan does appear as a disciple of Shaykh al-‘Alawī, whom he visited in Mostaghanem (Algeria) in around 1930. Upon the death of his master
in 1934, Sīdī Bū Madyan sets up his zāwiya in Bū Yahyā and propagates his
Sufi path: “The religious influence of Sidi Bou Médienne extends not only to
the Beni Isnassen tribes, but also to the tribes of the Algerian frontier zones
(where the Qādiriyya had been very influential). He has won over to his order the Bouchichiyyines of Madagh, notably sidi bel-‘Abbes ould sidi al23 “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 31.
24 “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 31.
25 He married the daughter of Sīdī Mukhtār, Lallā Khadūj. See al-Rihat, Al-Da’wa ilā
Allāh, pp. 106-107.
26 Okacha Berahab, “Al-Tarīqa al-Būdshīshiyya al-‘Alāwiyya, usūl maghribiyya, umm
jazā’iriyya?,” Majallat al-Āmal, 19-20, 2000, special issue on the role of the zāwiyas
in Morocco.

203

RACHIDA CHIH
27

Mokhtar, who is designated as his aide.” The arrival of Sīdī Bū Madyan in
Madāgh in 1942 and the conversion of Sīdī al-‘Abbās to the ‘Alawiyya is said
to have provoked a split at the heart of the family clan that was, at the time,
directed by Sīdī Mustafā, the son of Sīdī al-Makkī (the deceased older brother of Sīdī al-‘Abbās). Sīdī Mustafā was older than his own uncle: “Elderly
and in precarious health, Sidi Mostafa lives a fairly retired life in Martimprey (Bouyahiya), where he settled after moving there from Madagh as a
result of the disagreement that opposed him to his uncle Sidi Labbes … His
influence (that of sidi Mostafa) which, locally, seems greater than that of
Shaykh El Hebri (Sidi Mostafa has more than 1000 fouqaras in the tribes of
the ‘annexe’), also extends somewhat to the Spanish zone and to the ‘département’ of Oran. However, his influence is currently decreasing, owing
to the fact that he has an opponent in his own family who acts as a sort of
dissident: Sidi Boumédienne is director of a rival zaouia, that of Ben Alli28
oua.” Sīdī al-‘Abbās was at the time a local notable, land-owner and vicepresident of the chamber of agriculture in Oujda, to whom the French attri29
bute political ambitions.
The explanations in these archives, presenting Sīdī Bū Madyan as an
agent of the Algerian ‘Alawiyya, are not corroborated by the testimony of
Sīdī al-‘Abbās and that of his son Sīdī Hamza. On the basis of their testimony a Būdshīshī historiography is constructed – one that makes no mention at all of any spiritual descent from Shaykh Ben ‘Alīwa, one that in fact
30
thoroughly challenges this idea. And yet this mystical link was confirmed
by Shaykh al-‘Alawī’s successor at the head of the ‘Alawiyya, Shaykh ‘Adda
Bentounès (d. 1952), who met Sīdī Bū Madyan on several occasions: “Among
these is the zāwiya of the excellent shaykh, attached to our master (muntasib), Sīdī Abū Madyan al-Būdshīshī b. al-Munawwar. He heard of the master
and desired to meet him in spite of his preceding attachment to the tarīqa
Qādiriyya and in spite of the respect and authority that he commanded in
that Sufi path. He did in fact meet the master and received the path from
him. He practiced the dhikr for several days and obtained that which he was
seeking. The master spoke to him of his affection for him, gave him permis27 “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 33.
28 “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 32.
29 He was said to be aiming for the title of ‘caïd’. “Note sur les chorfâs idrissides à Béni
Snassen. Les Ouled Boutchiche,” in O. Berahab, Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, p. 33.
30 M. al-Ghazzālī, Musāhama fī’l-bahth ‘an zawāyā Banī Iznassen, p. 134-135.

204

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

sion to give the path (to initiate disciples) and confirmed him in the eminent
place he occupied among his disciples (qawm). Now he devotes himself to
his zāwiya in the town of Ihfīr with all the energy and determination that he
has been given. He is a shaykh naturally given to ascetic practice, to remaining in obscurity and to show an excellent character in his relations with others. I have met him several times and never observed anything different
from what I tell you. He is now approaching the age of sixty. May God grant
31
us all, to him as to ourselves, a beautiful end. Āmīn”, We should add that
Shaykh Ben ‘Alīwa was a spiritual master who was active during the same
period as Shaykh Bū Madyan and was his close contemporary, born in 1869,
while Bū Madyan was born in 1873. He was considered by his disciples to be
the reviver of the Darqāwiyya-Shādhiliyya at the beginning of the twentieth
century, and the first person to bring this order to Europe, where he had
32
travelled. The Būdshīshiyya was to imitate the ‘Alawiyya in this movement towards openness to the West.
The order’s accepted version of the initiation of Sīdī Bū Madyan is
therefore based on the evidence offered by Sīdī al-‘Abbās and his son,
Hamza, who were his companions for fourteen years. They report that for
several years the shaykh attended the zāwiya Darqāwiyya of the disciples of
Shaykh Muhammad al-Habrī, which was located in Drīwa, in the mountains
of the Banī Iznassen, before attaching himself to several Moroccan masters.
33
Two of these masters played a decisive role in his spiritual training. The
34
first was Sīdī Bel-‘Aryān, a local Tijānī shaykh described as a malāmatī; it
was under his tutelage that Sīdī Bū Madyan veritably experienced the fanā’
(extinction in the divine essence, mystical union). His spiritual quest then
took him to Fes, where he encountered his second master, Shaykh Sīdī
Muhammad Lahlū (al-Halū) al-Fāsī, a shādhilī-darqāwī who was a disciple of
31 ‘Adda Bentounes, Al-Rawda al-saniyya fī l-ma'āthir al-‘alawiyya, Mostaganem, AlMatba‘a al-‘Alawiyya, 1987, p. 117 (translation Denis Gril). According to Martin
Lings, the Rawda had been set up two years after the death of Shaykh al-‘Alawī
(1934): Martin Lings, Un saint soufi du XXe siècle, le cheikh Ahmad al-‘Alawī, Paris,
Seuil, 1990.
32 The first zāwiya ‘alawiyya came about in the 1950s, as a result of initiatives by
fuqarā’ who had emigrated, especially to France and Great Britain.
33 A. Cour, “Derḳāwā,” Enc. Islam 1, I, p. 949. The Darqāwiyya Hibriyya expanded
mostly in Algeria.
34 According to Ibn ‘Arabī, the malāmatī represents the highest category of occulted
or hidden Sufi saint. On the malāmatī see Eric Geoffroy, Le soufisme en Syrie et en
Égypte sous les derniers Mamelouks et les premiers Ottomans, Damascus, Institut
Français d’Etudes Arabes de Damas, 1996, Chapter XIX, “l’homme du blâme” (alMalāmatī).”

205

RACHIDA CHIH
35

Sīdī Ben ‘Alī al-Marākshī al-Darqāwī and a tanner by profession. With this
master he learned to recognise the spiritual states (hāl) provoked by the
36
practice of the dhikr. After a lengthy peregrination, Sīdī Bū Madyan returned to the mountains of the Banī Iznassen to build his own zāwiya and
37
spread his Sufi path. Sīdī Bū Madyan was described by the French administrators as an ascetic. A photo shows him dressed in white, a colour that was
preferred by the masters of the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya, as was the wearing
of a long beard and the very large wooden rosary worn, darqāwā-style,
around his neck.
The encounter between Sīdī Bū Madyan and his cousin Sīdī al-‘Abbās
took place in Madāgh in 1942. Sīdī al-‘Abbās and his son, Sīdī Hamza, welcomed the master in their zāwiya and became his disciples. Sīdī al-‘Abbās
even gave him the hand of one of his daughters in marriage, although the
elderly master was then seventy years old. Father and son both studied with
Sīdī Bū Madyan throughout the fourteen years of his stay in Madāgh. At the
end of this lengthy initiation, they received the sirr – the secret, or spiritual
influx, that is transmitted from one master to the next along an initiatic
chain going back to the Prophet, which gives the one who receives it the authority to educate disciples.

Sīdī al-‘Abbās
Sīdī al-‘Abbās is represented as a man who is remote from worldly goods
and who, in spite of his temporal riches aspires to a higher goal. As a young
man he had gone to Oujda, where he had met a pious man whose companion he wished to become. This man had recommended that he return to his
lands and there await the one who would guide him towards spiritual real38
isation. He waited for twenty-five years. We know what happened next.
For the entire duration of his education, Sīdī al-‘Abbās served Sīdī Bū Madyan and his disciples in the zāwiya: “He (Sīdī al-‘Abbās) was the one who was
39
a sharīf, and yet he treated others as if they were shurafā’.” This is one of
the effects of his spiritual progression. He was much loved for his humility
35 A. Qustās has published the correspondence between Muhammad al-Halū and Sīdī
Bū Madyan in the journal edited and published by the tarīqa Būdshīshiyya, AlMurīd, 4, 5, 7, 1993.
36 Ahmad al-Halū (Lahlou), “Risālat al-hāl li-sayyidī Ahmad al-Halū,”Al-Murīd, 5, 1993,
p. 41.
37 A. Qustās, Nibrās al-Murīd, p. 34-38.
38 al-Rihat, Al-Da’wa ilā Allāh, p. 106.
39 al-Rihat, Al-Da’wa ilā Allāh, p. 108.

206

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

and generosity. Like his father and his ancestors before him, he gave up his
own material goods and put them at the disposal of the poor.
The anxiety, or even fear, that is felt in the face of the weighty task of
guiding disciples on the Sufi path is a common hagiographic theme. This
fear touches many future masters and it did not spare Sīdī al-‘Abbās, as he
recounts in his auto-hagiography, which is written in the form of a spiritual
testament (wasiyya): “After the death of sidi Bou Médienne (may the grace
of God be upon him) in 1955, no-one knew who would succeed him, for my
nature inclined me to silence and drove me to regularity and continuity in
my spiritual work. I also wanted to take the time to prepare myself for this
responsibility, and I felt a great fear that I would not be up to the task. Thus
I remained silent for nearly five years after his death, and I saw in myself no
40
aptitude for education.” Thus, the Sufi Order that had been founded by Sīdī
Bū Madyan existed for five years without a declared master. It wasn’t until
1960 that Sīdī al-‘Abbās understood that he could no longer evade the duty
that a divine injunction commanded him to take up. He decided to pass on
in his turn all that he had received as a legacy from his master Sīdī Bū
Madyan: “It is God who has willed that things be thus; the servant of God is
obliged to know that the divine will is stronger than his own and that a
force other than his own guides him. One of the reasons that I felt driven to
react and to take on my responsibilities in 1960 is that during a dhikr session, I witnessed things that would never have happened if Sīdī Bū Madyan
had still been alive. At that moment, I felt fully the responsibility that I had
an obligation to assume, and I understood that I would be judged before God
for everything that had to do with the domain of spiritual education. When
that time arrived, I accepted the obligation to authorise the practice of the
dhikr and of the supreme name, and then to make known the spiritual testament of Sīdī Bū Madyan. It was then that the “affair” was revealed to every41
one.” And thus the prediction that Sīdī Bū Madyan made to Sīdī al-‘Abbās
was realised: “You will undertake this mission, either willingly or by
42
force!”
This unexpected revelation, which led Sīdī al-‘Abbās to feel that he had
no option but to act to preserve the teaching of his master, provoked the departure from Madāgh of Sīdī Mustafā and Sīdī Muhammad, the sons of Sīdī

40 Spiritual testament, www.tariqa.org
41 Spiritual testament, www.tariqa.org
42 Spiritual testament, www.tariqa.org

207

RACHIDA CHIH
43

Bū Madyan, who returned to the zāwiya of Bū Yahyā. The cohabitation
between the different heirs of Sīdī Bū Madyan, or those who claimed to be
his heirs, lasted five years. From this episode, about which we possess no
other details, let us retain the fact that the clan had once again split. Upon
the death of Sīdī al-‘Abbās, in 1972, it was his son, Sīdī Hamza, who became
the new shaykh al-tarbiya, master-educator, of the tarīqa Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya.
The fact that Sīdī al-‘Abbās’ son Sīdī Hamza succeeded him is not
presented in būdshīshī historiography as a hereditary transmission of charisma. Rather, Būdshīshī writings stress that in fact Sīdī Bū Madyan had
44
transmitted his spiritual inheritance to the father and the son alike. Mention is also made of the fact that of the two khalīfas, the master had granted
pre-eminence in the direction of his disciples to Sīdī al-‘Abbās in spite of the
fact that he had sought to evade the task. Thus it is that Sīdī Hamza, out of
respect, renews the pact with his own father, continuing to learn from him
how to fulfil the function that Sīdī Bū Madyan has determined that he too
45
should eventually take up. Sīdī al-‘Abbās himself also dictates a testament
in which he designates his son as his successor, and thus he submits to a
double injunction: that of God (imtithālan li-mashī’ati’llāh) and that of his
master Sīdī Bū Madyan (tanfīzan li-wasiyya shaykhihi). “I swear by God the
most high that this testament is perfectly truthful and worthy of trust...
Knowing that death and life belong to God and that the servant does not
know the moment at which death will take him, He (God) has revealed to
me, with his divine authorisation, the name of my successor, the heir of the
Secret (sirr). None may oppose this, nor may they make the least claim. My
successor is my pious son, al-Hājj Hamza.” This testament, composed and
read before witnesses, dated 13 dhū’l-qa‘da 1387 (19 February 1968) and

43 “Sīdī Bū Madyan had two sons, Sīdī Mustafā and Sīdī Muhammad, but he gave the
authorisation (idhn) to his two disciples, Sīdī al-‘Abbās and Sīdī Hamza,” al-Rihat,
Al-Da’wa ilā Allāh, p. 106.
44 Istakhlafa rajulayn li’l-qiyām bi-wadhīfat al-tarbiya tibā’an wa humā sayyidī al‘Abbās b. Al-Mukhtār, wa ibnihi sayyidī Hamza b. Al-‘Abbās (He has authorised two
men to succeed him in the education of disciples and the transmission of the sirr,
these two men being sayyidī al-‘Abbās b. Al-Mukhtār and his son, sayyidī Hamza b.
Al-‘Abbās), Al-Wasiyya wa anwā‘iha, www.tariqa.org, site in Arabic.
45 Ta’addaba sayyidī Hamza ma’a abīhi fī iktifā’ bi-musā’adatihi ‘alā nashr al-tarīqa
wa ta’līm al-murīdīn (Sīdī Hamza learned at his father’s side by helping him in the
propagation of the Sufi path and the education of his disciples), Al-Wasiyya wa
anwā’iha, www.tariqa.org

208

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

signed by the Sīdī al-Hājj ‘Abbās, his close disciples and the ‘ca’īd’ of Triffa,
is available on the website of tarīqa.
During the 1960s, Sīdī al-‘Abbās transmitted his teaching to a closed
circle of disciples. Among his first companions could be found directors of
schools and of training centres, and school-teachers. Some of these people
would go on to become public personalities, as did Ahmad Tawfīq, an emin ent university professor and, since 2002, Minister for the habous (religious
endowments) and for Islamic affairs; Shaykh Yā Sīn (Yassine), who is today
the charismatic leader of the Islamist movement al-‘Adl wa’l-Ihsan was also
part of this group. It was in 1972, at the time of the death of Sīdī al-‘Abbās,
when his son Sīdī Hamza was designated as the new shaykh al-tarbiya of
the tarīqa Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya, that Shaykh Yā Sīn left the order to create his own movement. Shaykh Yā Sīn, who on other subjects speaks freely
of himself, does not mention the reasons for his departure, any more than
46
members of the Būdshīshiyya do. This being said, the more one studies the
history of the Sufi orders, the more one observes that ruptures and splits,
brought about upon the death of a master by his closest disciples seem not
only to be inevitable but even to be intrinsic to the structure of the tarīqa.
With Sīdī Hamza leading it, the order continued to recruit in educated
milieux; it attracted graduates either from the religious institutes, such as
the Qarāwiyyīn or Dār al-hadīth al-hasaniyya, or from the modern universities. These intellectuals were to become the thinkers of the order, and
some of them would publish works, often of good scientific quality, that
would use a pedagogical and proselytising style to propagate a rhetoric of
47
Sufi renewal. At the same time, Sīdī Hamza developed a relationship of
spiritual paternity with his disciples in which one can discern the traditional
forms of tribal and patriarchal authority.

Sīdī Hamza: from Tribal Patriarchy to Spiritual Paternity
According to Sīdī al-‘Abbās, before the arrival of Sīdī Bū Madyan all mystical tradition had been extinguished in his family: “Sīdī Mukhtār al-Kabīr, who
had been authorised by his master to invoke the supreme Name (ism ala‘dhām), advised his son to cease leading dhikr sessions and to return to the
path of tabarruk (simple transmission of the divine influx) because this son
46 Malika Zeghal, Les islamistes marocains, Paris, La Découverte, 2005, p. 125.
47 One of the important authors is Tahā ‘Abd al-Rahmān, whose writings mostly influenced Moroccan intellectuals. See his Al-‘Amal al-dīnī wa tajdīd al-‘aql, Rabat, s.n.,
1989.

209

RACHIDA CHIH
48

had not attained the stage (maqām) of spiritual education (tarbiya).” The
teaching of Sīdī Bū Madyan in Madāgh is described in būdshīshī literature as
a renewal, or even as if it were founding the Sufi path afresh: the shaykh
transforms the Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya, which is no longer any more than a
lineage of tabarruk, into a path to spiritual education (tarīqat al-tarbiya) and,
at the same time, brings about a veritable spiritual renewal in Morocco as a
49
whole, where all authentic mystical tradition had faded out. Thus, after the
decline of the large Sufi orders that never really recovered from the effects
of colonisation and whose place in society was taken by the reformist and
pro-independence party Istiqlāl but also by an authoritarian state that cornered every form of legitimacy – be it religious or nationalist – and every
50
form of power, the success of the Būdshīshiyya is presented by its members as a renewal and a re-conquest of lost territory.

The Reviver of the Sufi Path
If Sīdī Bū Madyan can be considered as a founder because he returned its
educational dimension to the Qādiriyya Būdshīsiyya, it is Sīdī Hamza who
was the veritable revivifier, the one towards whom thousands of disciples
would flow. Falling between these two men, Sīdī al-‘Abbās seems almost to
be a transitional shaykh, a transmitter preparing the arrival of the master of
51
the times (mūl al-waqt). Faouzi Skali is another eminent member of the
Būdshīshiyya, trained in the social sciences (anthropology); he is also from a
Sharifian Sufi family in Fes, the “Holy City” to which he has devoted a thes52
is. He compares Sīdī Hamza to the great figures of Maghrebi Sufism: “He is
a teacher of the authentic Sufism, in the vein of the great spiritual masters
that this country has produced across the centuries: Abū Madyan (Shu‘ayb,
d. 1197), ‘Abd al-Salām b. Mashīsh (d. 1227/8), Abū’l-Hasan al-Shādhilī (d.
53
1258).” He does not hesitate to place Sīdī Hamza at the level of Ghazālī (d.
48 Spiritual testament, www.tariqa.org
49 Karim Ben Driss, Sidi Hamza al-Qādiri Boudchich. Le renouveau du soufisme au
Maroc, Paris, Al Bouraq/Archè, 2002.
50 Sahar Bazzaz treats of this theme in Forgotten Saints, History, Power, and Politics in
the Making of Modern Morocco, Boston, Harvard University, Harvard Center for Middle Eastern Studies, 2010.
51 K. Ben Driss, Sidi Hamza al-Qādiri Boudchich, p. 118.
52 Faouzi Skali, Saints et sanctuaires de Fès, Rabat, éditions Marsam, 2007. His works on
spirituality, which have been made available by Albin Michel, a major French publishing house, have brought converts and Muslims from immigrant families to the
Sufi path.
53 F. Skali, La Tribune, 31 May 2000.

210

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

1111), the man who “contributed to a veritable spiritual regeneration with
his oeuvre “Revivification of the sciences of religion.” These great masters
have brought about cycles of revivification in Muslim spirituality. Sīdī
54
Hamza is the last link in this chain (silsila) of the great revivifiers.”
The theme of the decline of religion with the passage of time since the
Prophet’s era (fasād al-zaman) is interpreted as a decline in the spiritual influx (sirr) of God’s Messenger, the Prophet Muhammad. This influx, that irradiated his community when he was alive, was reserved, after his death,
only to a very small group of men to whom fell the task of reviving this deposit (amana). The tarbiya, this path to the purification of hearts and the acquisition of noble character in the permanence of the dhikr is in fact, for the
Būdshīshī, a return to the tradition of the ancients (salaf), that is to say to
55
religious practices as they were at the time of the Prophet.
In the Maghreb, the rhetoric of renewal that is present among all masters of new foundations carries with it a parallel tendency to exclusivism.
Ahmad al-Tijānī, in his quality as “Seal of the Saints”, directly affiliated by
the Prophet, placed himself above all the saints and his Sufi path above all
the Sufi paths. And thus it was forbidden to his disciples to affiliate themselves to any Sufi order but the Tijāniyya, or to seek intercession from any
saint, living or dead, who was not in the Tijāniyya; his disciples, moreover,
were to consider the pact they had made with their master to be definitive,
56
irrevocable and unbreakable. As for Muhammad al-Kattānī (d. 1909), linked
to the Darqāwiyya, he affirmed the superiority of his tarīqa over the Tijāniyya, with which he was in conflict, and presented himself as the Pole of his
57
time.
The Qādiriyya Būdshīshiyya does not escape from this tendency to exclusivism; it presents itself as a synthesis of the great Moroccan spiritual traditions, that it encompasses, completes and revivifies: the Qādiriyya al58
nasab, Shādhiliyya-Darqāwiyya-Tijāniyya al-mashrab. If Ahmad al-Tijānī
placed himself above all saints, in the image of the Prophet who was the last
of the Prophets (khatm al-awliyā’), Sīdī Hamza is himself presented as the
only living saint, the unique holder of the sirr (the secret). And if al-Tijānī
54 F. Skali, La Tribune, 31 May 2000.
55 M. Benya’ich, Al-Tarīqa al-Qādiriyya al-Būdshīshiyya, pp. 24-25.
56 Al-‘Arabī b. Muhammad al-ʻUmarī al-Tijānī, Bughyat al-mustafīd li-sharh munyat
al-murīd, Beyrouth, Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 2003, pp. 76-84.
57 ‘Abd al-‘Azīz Benabdallah, Ma‘lūmāt al-tasawwuf al-islāmī, tome 2 : Al-Tasawwuf
al-maghribī khilāl rijālātihi, Rabat, Dār Nashr al-Maʻrifa, 2001, pp. 280-283.
58 A. Qustās, Nibrās al-murīd, p. 38.

211

RACHIDA CHIH

situated his Sufi path as the final aim of all the paths, in the image of Islam
that is the final aim of all the revealed religions, then for the Būdshīshīs,
their path is the only living path in Morocco today. The similarities with the
Tijāniyya, whose vitality and resilience in West Africa need no demonstration, are striking.

A Living Saint (walī hayy), Holder of the sirr
“A living saint” is the title of an article by the Moroccan anthropologist Zakiya Zouanat that appeared in the weekly Le Journal (may 2000) and was
published on the website of the tarīqa. For his disciples, Sīdī Hamza is mul
al-waqt (the master of the times), the Pole (qutb), the only living master who
59
holds and can transmit the sirr. “The sirr”, writes Ahmad Qustās, “is situated at the level of the heart: it describes an interior state, a station on the
initiatic progression. It is when the heart is at peace and nothing troubles it
any longer in its contemplation; it is the degree of wara‘ (scrupulous piety)
that is the highest degree of proximity to God; it is that of the secret of the
secret (sirr al-sirr), that of the unveiling of the divine mystery; it is the state
60
of the mukālama, of the muhāddatha and of the mukhātaba.” Here we find
technical Sufi terms that were developed by Tirmidhī in the ninth century
61
and taken up later by the Sufis, among them the Shādhilī. “The holder of
the sirr”, continues Ahmad Qustās, “becomes a source of wisdom; there is
sweetness (halāwa), in his words, in his elocution there is grace, in his signs
there are meanings; the Sufis call him sāhib al-sirr (the holder of the secret)
62
or dhū al-imdādāt al-nūrāniyya, (the one who radiates the divine light).”
The notion of sirr in the Būdshīshiyya has a double meaning; that of the
initiatic transmission from a spiritual master to an heir, but also that of the
transmission of a spiritual influx to the fuqarā’. Thus the divine election of
the shaykh radiates upon his disciples. Sīdī Hamza declared to his disciples:
“This Sufi path benefits from God’s blessing in the highest degree, and from
59 Field research among the fuqarā’, Madāgh, November 2003.
60 A. Qustās, Nibrās al-murīd, pp. 31-32.
61 Tirmidhī describes the muhaddath (the inspired one, God’s confidant) as the one
who receives the celestial discourse, or the one to whom celestial entities speak.
This is the highest degree of divine proximity, and the specificity of this degree is
founded on the “hadīth” received in addition to the other divine gifts, a discourse
brought by the divine right (al-hāqq) and accompanied by the sakīna (the divine
presence). Geneviève Gobillot, “Présence d’al-Hakīm al-Tirmidhī dans la Shādhiliyya,” in E. Geoffroy, ed., Une voie soufie dans le monde, p. 39.
62 A. Qustās, Nibrās al-murīd, pp. 31-32.

212

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

that of the Prophet Muhammad, of all the prophets and of all the saints.
63
There is no doubt on this point.”
But it is made clear to the disciple that this transmission is only possible
if a relationship of a paternal nature is established between him and his
master. The shaykh speaks to his disciples, to whom he claims to accord the
same rank as to his own children regardless of their educational or social
background, with simple words just like those that a father would use with
his children: “I am your father and you are my children. I am your father
here and in the next world.” A faqīr says to Sīdī Hamza: “Sīdī, we have only
you!” Sīdī replies: “I, too, have only you! I am your father, and I consider
64
you exactly as I do my own children.” This man who is close and familiar
to his followers is surrounded by an aura of holiness. His public appearances, which are all more solemn for their rarity because of his great age,
are occasions of intense devotion: visitors kneel before him, kiss his hands,
throw themselves at his feet, weep.

The Image of a Patriarch
This fatherly image is reflected in the person and the comportment of Sīdī
Hamza. The many photographs of the shaykh show a smiling and relaxed
man. His benevolent gaze is emphasised by his thick eyebrows. His rounded
face, which is in contrast to the emaciated features of the ascetic Sīdī Bū
Madyan, is refined by the collar of beard that surrounds it, which is black,
grey or white according to the date of the photo. His beard of medium
length and the turban that is knotted on his head in the style of the Prophet
give him a venerable air. He is of a strong and imposing build, and always
dressed in a Moroccan djellaba. The shaykh is most frequently photographed seated cross-legged, with a rosary on his hand. There is no doubt that his
physical appearance has contributed to his charisma, whose photos are
widely diffused on the internet, in the media and in the publications of the
65
tarīqa. Such photos are sold in kiosks, in front of the zāwiya, during the
two big annual gatherings (ziyārāt) of the fuqarā’ in Madāgh, on the 27 th of
the month of ramadān and on the 12th rabī‘ awwal, the day on which the
63 Words of Sīdī Hamza recorded by his disciples in Laayoun, Morocco, February 2004.
64 Words of Sīdī Hamza recorded in Laayoun, February, 2004.
65 For more on the use and diffusion of photographs of saints as pious images in contemporary Egypt, see Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, “La fonction sacrale de l’image
dans l’Égypte contemporaine : de l’imagerie traditionnelle à la révolution photographique,” in Bernard. Heyberger and Silvia Naef, eds., La multiplication des images en pays d’islam, Würzburg, Ergon Verlag, 2003, pp. 57-80.

213

RACHIDA CHIH

birth (mawlid) of the Prophet is celebrated. These omnipresent images of
66
Sīdī Hamza ravish the senses of the fuqarā’.
Physical descriptions of the saint are abundant, notably in the written
Būdshīshī production that is in French. They follow an orientalist tradition
67
– a tradition whose clichés they sometimes perpetuate: “With a great simplicity, majestic stature, a fresh complexion, a face that is aglow with light,
Shaykh Hamza al-Qādirī al-Būdshīshī – Sīdī Hamza for the fuqarā’ who are
his disciples – radiates the serenity of those who have cast off their ties with
68
this earthly world, and whoever has seen him once can never forget him.”
“My gaze was drawn irresistibly towards a man who was seated in the
centre. He was radiant. He was of an imposing size, with wide shoulders. He
was dressed in white, wearing a turban that stopped just above his black
eyebrows. His eyes were overflowing with affection. His straight nose hung
over a wide smile that lost itself in a white beard. His prominent cheeks responded to his smile without a single wrinkle, with no trace of the passage
69
of time, in spite of his advanced age”; “His imposing stature, the intense
light that emanates from him, the infinite goodness of his gaze – these seem
to be the qualities that are inevitably sensed by whoever meets Sidi Hamza
for the first time. A man “unlike other men,” that words struggle to de70
scribe.”
These photographic and literary portraits describe a particular type of
saint in the pantheon of Muslim saints: the saint of love, of humility and of
compassion who takes the emotions of men into his charge and channels
them towards a spiritual goal. Sīdī Hamza describes himself as a shaykh of
manifestation, of jamāl (beauty), more than of jalāl (majesty), as was his
66 In the same way as did the religious paintings discovered by Arab Christian travellers in Eastern and Western Europe during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; Carsten-Michael Walbiner, ““Images painted with such exalted skills as to
ravish the senses”: pictures in the eyes of Christian Arab travellers of the 17th and
18th centuries,” in B. Heyberger and S. Naef, eds., La multiplication des images en
pays d’islam, pp. 15-30. We have in fact been able to observe “faqirates” (women disciples) who were very moved emotionally by the contemplation of photos of their
“Sīdī” (as they and all the other disciples call the shaykh).
67 See also the physical description of emir ‘Abd al-Qādir by Léon Roches
(CharlesRobert Ageron, Politiques coloniales au Maghreb, Paris, Puf, 1973, p. 31) or
that of Shaykh A. al-‘Alawī by Dr. Marcel Carret (Martin Lings, Un saint soufi du
XXe siècle, le cheikh Ahmad al-‘Alawī, Paris, Seuil, 1990, pp. 16-17).
68 Zakiya Zouanat, Un saint vivant, www.tariqa.org
69 Witness account collected by K. Ben Driss, Sidi Hamza al-Qadiri al-Boudchich,
pp. 127-128.
70 K. Ben Driss, Sidi Hamza al-Qadiri al-Boudchich, pp. 127-128.

214

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

father before him, to whom Sīdī Bū Madyan said: “We entered by the door
of majesty (jalāl) and we are tired. You entered by the door of grace and
beauty (jamāl), so don’t stop now.”

Conclusion
The writings of the Būdshīshiyya clearly show the importance of genealogy
in the construction of the charisma of the Qādirī Būdshīsh. This genealogy
blends Sharifism and Sufism, the fusion of which in Morocco has been welldemonstrated by Moroccan scholars; it was an important factor in the social,
political and religious history of the country since at least the fifteenth cen71
tury, and up until the nineteenth century. It was only in Morocco that the
shurafā’ were so venerated and respected. From this veneration was born an
abundant genealogical literature, the ideological content of which has been
demonstrated by scholars such as Abdelahad Sebti in order to cast light on
72
the symbolic dimension of Sharifism and its social practice. Halima Ferhat
73
describes the biographies of Sharifian families as a “literature of combat.”
The shurafā’, who often represented the great Sufi orders, acted as privileged agents or interlocutors between different social groups and between
these groups and the Makhzen. It is from these families that the future sovereigns emerged, the founders of dynasties. The ascension in the seventeenth century (1635) of the dynasty from the south of Morocco that still
today reigns over the country, the ‘Alawī, was made possible by their alliances with the Sharifian families of Fes. However, the European capitalist
interference in the affairs of the country that became increasingly strongly
felt in the final quarter of the nineteenth century brought about profound
social transformations. The traditional elites, shurafā’ and shaykhs of the
great Sufi orders, were delegitimised after independence and expelled from
74
the field of modernity.
The discourse on Sufi renewal developed by the Būdshīshiyya since the
1960s is one of re-conquest of religious legitimacy by the nasab, the origin,
71 Halima Ferhat, “Chérifisme et enjeux du pouvoir,” Oriente Moderno, 79/2, 1999, pp.
473-481; Abdelahad Sebti, “Chérifisme, symbole et histoire,” Oriente Moderno, 79/2,
1999, pp. 629-638.
72 A. Sebti, “Chérifisme, symbole et histoire”; also “Lignées savantes, généalogie et
pouvoir,” in Saber religioso y poder politico en el islam : actas del simposio internacional, Granada del 15 al 18 de octubre de 1991 [Escuela de estudios arabes de
granada], Madrid, Agencia espanola de cooperacion internacional, 1994, pp. 275-284.
73 H. Ferhat, “Chérifisme et enjeux du pouvoir,” p. 475.
74 See again S. Bazzaz, Forgotten Saints, History, Power, and Politics in the Making of
Modern Morocco.

215

RACHIDA CHIH

as by mystical transmission – both of these are linked. As demonstrated by
Malika Zeghal, the religious landscape of Morocco today is splintered between different actors and groups who all want to say what is legitimate in
75
Islam, and make themselves its representatives. In a time of globalisation
of Islam, the Būdshīshiyya, which is present at the summit of the state in the
person of the Minister for Habous, Ahmad Tawfīq, has contributed to redefining official discourse in Morocco on Islam, by reviving the colonial
concept of ‘Morocan Islam’, and by celebrating national religious identity,
origins and tradition. The homepage of the website of the Ministry for
Habous and Islamic affairs puts it clearly: Moroccan Islam is Sunni, Sufi,
76
Mālikī and Ash‘arī. A return to Sufism would thus merely be a re-affirmation of Moroccan religious identity, and the re-establishment of “traditional
order,” as Faouzi Skali writes in the introduction to his thesis on Fes and its
77
sanctuaries. On the occasion of a religious conference during which the
Minister Ahmad Tawfīq, who is also a historian, addressed the young king
Muhammad VI on the theme of Sharifian power and Sufi authority in the history of Morocco, the role played by the great families of saints in the constitution of this identity is re-affirmed. Ahmad Tawfīq brings his attention to
bear on what it is that constitutes the specificity of the relationship of the
Moroccan dynasts with their people in every era, and what explains “the
perennial nature, the solidity and stability of the socio-political structure of
78
the country”. This Moroccan specificity is composed of two essential elements: the shurafā’ and Sufism. A. Tawfīq cites, on this subject, a passage
79
from the Nush al-Mulūk by Ibn al-Sakkāk (d. 1415), “God has granted
abundant gifts to the noble family of the Prophet. Among these gifts, which
were accorded to this direct descendance, is the revivification of the tradition of the Elect of God (P.S), thus permitting the people to love the
Prophet’s lineage by submitting respectfully to them, by serving them, by
being patient with them if it should happen that they are unjust.” The shu75
76
77
78

M. Zeghal, Les islamistes marocains, p. 23
www.habous.org.ma
F. Skali, Saints et sanctuaires de Fès, op. cit.
The authors of the earliest Maghribi hagiographic sources, in the twelfth century,
insisted on the specificity of Maghribi Sufism, even if they recognised its eastern
sources. See Halima Ferhat and Hamed Triki, “Hagiographie et religion au Maroc
médiéval,” Hespéris Tamuda, XXIV, 1986, pp. 17-51.
79 Nush mulūk al-islām by Ibn Sakkāk is an admonition to the kings of Islam, reminding them of the rights of the “people of the house of the Prophet”, whom they are
enjoined to honour. See Abdelahad Sebti, Ville et figures du charisme, Casablanca,
Editions Toubkal, 2003, pp. 19-22.

216

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

rafā’ are first and foremost a model to be followed in their behaviour with
God, which is made up “of reverential fear, and the fear of contravening his
orders”; “For the Moroccan it is even more the case that the only one among
the Sufis who can pretend to the walāya, a concept that refers to sainthood,
is a descendant of God’s Messenger.” The minister reminds his listeners that
in Morocco the descendants of the Prophet have always benefited from the
popular legitimacy that is expressed in the pledge of allegiance.
The political function of the shurafā’ is clearly expressed through this
minister’s speech: sainthood, the qutbiyya, designates a concrete power, one
that is shared by the monarch as it is by the shurafā’. And thus Ahmad Tawfīq reminds his king of the counsel addressed by Ibn Sakkāk to governments: they must “take care of the shurafā’, as an obligation, if they want to
maintain themselves in power.”

Bibliography
Primary sources
al-‘Arabī b. Muhammad al-ʻUmarī al-Tijānī, Bughyat al-mustafīd li-sharh
munyat al-murīd, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 2003.
Ben Driss, Karim, Sidi Hamza al-Qādiri Boudchich. Le renouveau du soufisme au
Maroc, Paris, Al Bouraq/Archè, 2002.
Bentounes, ‘Adda, Al-Rawda al-saniyya fī l-ma'āthir al-‘alawiyya, Mostaganem,
Al-Matba‘a al-‘Alawiyya, 1987.
Benya’ich, Muhammad, Al-Tarīqa al-Qādiriyya al-Būdshīshiyya, shaykh wa
minhāj tarbiyya, Tetouan, Matba‘a al-Khalīj al-‘Arabī, 1999.
Berahab, Okacha, “Al-Tarīqa al-Būdshīshiyya al-‘Alawiyya, usūl maghribiyya,
umm jazā’iriyya?,” Majallat al-Āmal, 19-20, 2000.
Id., Al-Zāwiya al-Būdshīshiyya, dirāsa mu‘azzaza bi-l-wathā’īq, Rabat,
Bouregreg, 2004.
al-Ghazzālī, Ahmad, Musāhama fī’l-bahth ‘an zawāyā Banī Iznāssen. AlQādiriyya al-Būdshīshiyya namūdhajān, Rabat, Bouregreg, 2005.
al-Halū (Lahlou), Ahmad, “Risālat al-hāl li-sayyidī Ahmad al-Halū,”Al-Murīd, 5,
1993.
Qustās, Ahmed, Nibrās al-murīd fī tarīq al-tawhīd, al-Muhammadiyya, Fadāla
Press, 1994.
al-Rihat, Muhammad, Al-Da’wa ilā-Allāh fī rihāb al-tasawwuf, Casablanca,
Al-Najah al-Jadīda Press, 1996.
Skali, Faouzi, Saints et sanctuaires de Fès, Rabat, éditions Marsam, 2007.
Id., La tribune, 31 May 2000.

217

RACHIDA CHIH

Studies
Ageron, Charles-Robert, Politiques coloniales au Maghreb, Paris, Puf, 1973.
Bazzaz, Sahar, Forgotten Saints, History, Power, and Politics in the Making of
Modern Morocco, Boston, Harvard University, Harvard Center for Middle
Eastern Studies, 2010.
Benabdallah, ‘Abd al-‘Azīz, Ma’lūmāt al-tasawwuf al-islāmī, tome 2 : AlTasawwuf al-maghrabī khilāl rijālātihi, Rabat, Dār Nashr al-Maʻrifa, 2001.
Būkārī (or Bū Kārī), Ahmad, Al-Ihyā wa al-tajdīd fī’l-maghrib 1204-1330/17901912, [Rabat?], Al-Mamlaka al-Maghribiya, Wizārat al-awqāf, 2006.
Cour, A., “Derḳāwā,” Enc. Islam 1, I, pp. 946-949.
Ferhat, Halima and Hamid Triki, “Hagiographie et religion au Maroc médiéval,”
Hespéris Tamuda, XXIV, 1986, pp. 17-51.
Ferhat, Halima, “Chérifisme et enjeux du pouvoir,” Oriente Moderno, 79/2, 1999,
pp. 473-481.
Geoffroy, Eric, Le soufisme en Syrie et en Égypte sous les derniers Mamelouks et
les premiers Ottomans, Damascus, Institut Français d'Etudes Arabes de
Damas, 1996.
Gobillot, Geneviève, “Présence d’al-Hakīm al-Tirmidhī dans la Shādhiliyya,” in
E. Geoffroy, ed., Une voie soufie dans le monde, la Shâdhiliyya, Paris,
Maisonneuve et Larose, 2005, pp. 31-52.
Kably, Mohamed, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc à la fin du Moyen Âge,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 1986.
Laroui, Abdallah, L’histoire du Maghreb, Casablanca, Centre culturel arabe, 2001.
Lévi-Provençal, Évariste, Historiens des Chorfa, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose,
[1922] 2001.
Lings, Martin, Un saint soufi du XXe siècle, le cheikh Ahmad al-‘Alawī, Paris,
Seuil, 1990.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, “La fonction sacrale de l’image dans l’Égypte
contemporaine : de l’imagerie traditionnelle à la révolution photographique,” in Bernard Heyberger and Silvia Naef, eds., La multiplication
des images en pays d’islam, Würzburg, Ergon Verlag, 2003, pp. 57-80.
Meftah, Abdelbaqî, “L’initiation dans la Shādhiliyya-Darqāwiyya,” in Eric
Geoffroy, ed., Une voie soufie dans le monde, pp. 237-248.
Sebti, Abdelahad, “Lignées savantes, généalogie et pouvoir,” in Saber religioso y
poder politico en el islam : actas del simposio internacional, Granada del 15
al 18 de octubre de 1991 [Escuela de estudios arabes de granada], Madrid,
Agencia espanola de cooperacion internacional, 1994, pp. 275-284.
Id., “Chérifisme, symbole et histoire,” Oriente Moderno, 79/2, 1999, pp. 629-638.
Id., Ville et figures du charisme, Casablanca, Editions Toubkal, 2003.

218

SHURAFĀ’ AND SUFIS: THE QĀDIRIYYA BŪDSHĪSHIYYA IN CONTEMPORARY MOROCCO

Triaud, Jean-Louis, “La Qâdiriyya en Afrique de l’ouest,” Journal of the History
of Sufism, The Qâdiriyya Order, 1-2, 2000, pp. 245-259.
Triaud, Jean-Louis and David Robinson, La Tijaniyya, une confrérie à la conquête
de l’Afrique, Paris, Karthala, 2003.
Walbiner, Carsten-Michael, “‘Images painted with such exalted skills as to
ravish the senses’: pictures in the eyes of Christian Arab travellers of the
17th and 18th centuries,” in B. Heyberger and S. Naef, eds., La multiplication
des images en pays d’islam, pp. 15-30.
Zeghal, Malika, Les islamistes marocains, Paris, La Découverte, 2005.
Zekri, Mostafa, “La Tarīqa Shādhiliyya Darqāwiyya : les ‘empreintes’ du cheikh
al-‘Arabī al-Darqāwī,” in E. Geoffroy, ed., Une voie soufie dans le monde, la
Shādhiliyya, pp. 229-235.

219

Ahl-i Haqq Consecrated Families (khāndān)

Mojan Membrado
The relationship between family and sainthood is a fascinating subject in
the Ahl-i Haqq context. Although particular designated or consecrated families (khāndān, i.e. family sacred lineages) have long existed among the Ahl-i
Haqq, their holiness, the scope of their religious authority and the mode of
transmission of this authority have been debated within and outside the
community. The Ahl-i Haqq, or “Devotees/Followers of the Truth,” are an
ancient spiritual community which has existed from at least the thirteenth
1
century (research on its historical origins is still in progress). The homeland
of the Ahl-i Haqq is southern Kurdistan, particularly the region of Kermānshāh, but in other regions of Iran beyond Kurdistan as well, for instance in
Azerbaijan and Luristan. Today the Ahl-i Haqq also have a wide diaspora,
particularly in Europe and North America.
According to some scholars their faith is a form of Islamic mysticism,
for others they are “extreme” Shi‘ites, while for other researchers the Ahl-i
Haqq is a syncretistic religious group ultimately stemming from the ancient
religions of Iran. Ahl-i Haqq communities include eleven branches that have
originated in various eras dating from the early foundation of the group (approximately between thirteenth and fifteenth centuries) until the modern
period. Each branch is represented by one of the consecrated Ahl-i Haqq
family lineages (khāndān), who play the role of “guide” (pīr) for their followers.
Beside this division by branches of lineages, the Ahl-i Haqq communities could also be classified according to the doctrinal variations that have
gradually appeared within different sections. For instance some Ahl-i Haqq
consider themselves to be Muslims, while others consider their faith to be an
ancient religion independent from Islam, and yet other branches recognize
2
themselves to be Shi‘ites who divinize ‘Alī (the first Shi‘ite Imam). Despite
these various internal divisions, the word “order” can be justified in the case
1
2

See for instance Mohammad Mokri, “Notes sur la généalogie des fondateurs de la
secte des Fidèles de Vérité (Ahl-i Haqq) d'après un manuscrit inédit de source sunnite,” Journal Asiatique, 282, 1994, pp. 37-110.
For the classification of the Ahl-i Haqq groups according to their various doctrinal
beliefs, see the article “Ahl-i Haqq” in Dāyerat al-Ma‘ārif-i Tashayyo‘, Tehran,
Nashr-e Shahīd Muhibbī, 1990, p. 613.

220

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES
3

of Ahl-i Haqq, because of their internal organizational structure. However,
in spite of their many similarities with Sufi tarīqas, the Ahl-i Haqq could not
be considered simply as a Sufi order in the same sense as those listed, for ex4
ample, in Trimingham’s classic survey. In a Sufi order, the Prophet and his
companions, particularly ‘Alī, are the central figures; whereas the Ahl-i
Haqq respect the Islamic saints and sacred figures as the manifestation of
5
their own holy figures. In a Sufi order the disciples usually gather around a
pīr (guide) while an Ahl-i Haqq follower has both a pīr and a dalīl (guide and
assistant guide). The Sufi orders are independent of each other, and the different orders often have a “vertical” internal structure of authority; while
the different Ahl-i Haqq branches are connected to each other by horizontal
6
links, and the organization inside each branch is not pyramidal. In a Sufi order, a pīr receives the authorization (ijāza) to represent the religious authority from an earlier pīr, or in a dream or vision; he has often been himself a
disciple and studied and practiced spiritually for many years. This status
generally goes hand in hand with being a source of baraka (divine blessings
or grace), or having a distinct spiritual impact. However, among the Ahl-i
Haqq, the spiritual impact (baraka) comes after a spiritual awakening (tajallī), which is usually a sudden spiritual illumination or awareness. The
person who receives this sudden illumination is not necessarily the pīr
(guide) or an established religious authority. For among the Ahl-i Haqq a
high spiritual rank can be reached neither by heredity nor by learning; one
should already be there. And sometimes it happens that the person in question has that special spiritual rank, but does not yet know it. In such a case,
3

4
5

6

See M. Reza Hamzeh’ee, “Structural and Organizational analogies between
Mazdeism and Sufism and the Kurdish religions,” in Philippe Gignoux, ed., Recurrent
patterns in Iranian Religions from Mazdaism to Sufism, Paris, Peeters-Cahiers de Studia Iranica 11, 1992, pp. 29-35.
Spencer Trimingham, The Sufi orders in Islam, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1998.
According to the doctrine of mazharīyyat (the recurrent manifestation of a particular holy spiritual essence in different human “garments”), which is a basic cornerstone of the beliefs of all the Ahl-i Haqq branches, the same holy essences return to
the earth at different eras to guide men. For example Jesus, Salmān (the companion
of the Prophet Muhammad), and Benyāmīn the companion of Sultān Sahāk (the
founder of the Ahl-i Haqq order) were all different earthly manifestations or “garments” of the same spiritual essence in their different periods. In the eternal realm,
the same holy essence is known under the name of the famous biblical archangel
Gabriel, Jebrā’īl. Similar observations could be made concerning each Ahl-e Haqq
holy figure.
M. Reza Hamzeh’ee, The Yaresan: A sociological, historical and religio-historical study
of a Kurdish community, Berlin, Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 1990.

221

MOJAN MEMBRADO

all the person needs is a spark, an indication, to become conscious of his or
7
her rank.
For Sufis, it is important to trace their initiatic spiritual lineage (silsila)
back to the companions of the Prophet, while the Ahl-i Haqq are not preoccupied by this type of justification. Some Ahl-i Haqq families, however, do
possess pedigrees tracing their descent back to the founder of the order (Sul8
tān Ishāq), and then to ‘Alī, the first Imam.
In later Sufism, the ritual aspect was often more present and elaborated
than among the Ahl-i Haqq, where the distinctive ritual forms are relatively
9
minimal. For most Ahl-i Haqq branches, the major rituals consists essentially of the group assemblies (mainly involving initiation and blessing ceremonies), offerings, and three days of fasting per year.
However if one considers Sufism not in its later institutional dimensions
but in its essential definition – namely, as the process of purification of the
self in the Muhammadan religion – then some Ahl-i Haqq branches could be
considered as Sufis. Independently of the debates about the historical origins
of the Ahl-i Haqq, this faith belongs to the esoteric, spiritual Islamic context
because of its geographic localization as well as the doctrinal and ritual features of most of its branches.
The word khāndān in Persian and Kurdish means family or lineage. The
consecrated families (khāndāns) of the Ahl-i Haqq are those families who
7

8
9

“ […] il est rarement question chez les A.H. de ‘parvenir à une station.’ On y est ou
l’on n’y est pas, ou parfois l’on y est sans le savoir. Il suffit alors d’un révélateur,
d’une étincelle, et le derviche prend conscience de son identité et de son rang,
comme Sheykh Amir qui s’illumina grâce à un coup de cravache dont le frappa
Seyyed Farzi. Le consensus suit toujours et contribue certainement à aider le mystique à jouer le rôle qui lui a été assigné, à s’identifier à la figure mythique qu’il incarne, à modeler son comportement sur le sien, forme radicale la méthode des ‘imitations de Jésus-Christ.’ Après la visitation (zāt mehmān), l’identification peut atteindre le point où l’individualité se dissout, non en Dieu comme dans le fanā fi'llāh,
mais dans l’entité possédante, pour transformer l’essence elle-même. Le sujet s’annihile alors dans le zāt, l’essence de l’un des Sept, ‘hébergeant’ éventuellement (en
mehmān) d’autres essences, comme on le dit de Jésus. Tel est du moins le fonctionnement idéal dont témoignent des récits couvrant plusieurs siècles.” Jean During,
“Notes sur l'angélologie Ahl-i haqq,” in Gilles Veinstein, ed., Syncrétisme et hérésie
dans l’Orient seljoukide et ottoman, Paris, Peeters, 2005, pp. 129-151.
See Mohammad ‘Alī Soltānī, Tārikh-i khāndānhā-yi Haqīqat va Mashāhir-i
Mote’akhkhir-i Ahl-i Haqq dar Kermānshāh (2nd ed), Tehran, Sohā, 1381/2002,
p. 154.
Some similarities between Sufi tarīqas and the Ahl-i Haqq, for instance, are that the
initiation is required to enter the order, there is a pīr, and some similar ritual practices such as the pact, the practice of zekr, regular ritual meetings, offerings and
vows (nazr), the shadd (i.e. a cloth used in the initiation ceremony), etc.

222

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

have been entrusted by the founder of the order with the mission of initiating each Ahl-i Haqq member through succeeding generations. The “lay”
families are thus all other Ahl-i Haqq people who do not belong to a consec10
rated family. The members of the consecrated families are called seyyed
11
(master) or pīr (guide) and the common Ahl-i Haqq followers are called
tāyefeh (clan) or murīd (follower). The male descendants of the khāndān (the
seyyeds) have several ritual functions: they are the only persons authorized
to bless the offerings (nazr) through a particular ceremony (jam); to perform
the important ritual of initiation (sar sepordan) which is essential for each
person entering into the Ahl-i Haqq community; and to collect religious
12
taxes (sarfetr and sarāneh). In addition to these functions, if a seyyed is well
informed of the content of kalāms (the sacred poetic scriptures, often sung)
and if he sings well, he can conduct the devotional assemblies (zekr) by
singing the kalāms for the other participants.
Each khāndān has a representative called masnad-neshīn (the person on
the seat), or takiyyeh-dār (the holder of the place of worship). Despite the
existence of their own specific representative, the commoners respect all the
seyyeds because of their lineage. A khāndān can have representatives in dif13
ferent regions. Generally the pīr of a khāndān intervenes in the designation
of the lineage’s masnad-neshīn.
A consecrated family is not a tribe. Contrary to a tribe, a khāndān is not
14
a political entity. In a tribe the chief has a special status, but in a khāndān
the status of all the male members is equal, as they are considered to be the
10 Ph. Kreyenbroek sees the strict division between the priestly families and the lay
families, the hereditary transmission of the religious authority, and the obligation
for lay families to obey a priestly family as a particularly Iranian feature. One difference is that in Zoroastrianism the religious authority is represented by only one person, whereas in the Ahl-i Haqq system there are two persons, a pīr and a dalīl. Philip
Kreyenbroek, “On the study of some heterodox sects in Kurdistan,” Les Annales de
l’Autre Islam, 5, 1989, pp. 170-171.
11 The term sayyid in Islamic world designates generally the descendants of the
Prophet Muhammad, through his daughter Fātima. In the Ahl-i Haqq context, however, it designates instead the male descendants of the consecrated families. The female descendants of these khāndān, called seyyed-zādehs, are respected but traditionally do not have the same ritual prerogatives.
12 Respectively equivalent to the value of 1.25 g. and 15 g. of pure silver, given to the
pīr and dalīl, per person and per year. The amounts may vary according to the traditions of each family.
13 See the section below on trans-familial alliances.
14 For a discussion of the nature and development of the Kurdish tribes, see Boris
James, “Une ethnographie succincte de ‘l’entre-deux kurde’ au Moyen Âge,” Études
Rurales, 186, 2010, pp. 21-42.

223

MOJAN MEMBRADO

descendants of the same revered figure. For example, the commoners who
need to bless their offerings may refer to a young adolescent or to an old
distinguished man: since they are both seyyeds, they hold the same ritual
prerogatives. The different sections of a single tribe could themselves be
from different religious groups. For example, in the Gūrān tribe, the Neyrīzī,
15
Tāyeshe, Mīr Veyssī, and other sections are Shāfi‘ī Sunnis, and the Gūrān
16
ruling family is Shi‘ite, while most other tribesmen are Ahl-i Haqq. It happens that the Ahl-i Haqq members of the same tribe may follow different
khāndāns. For example among the Gūrān tribe, one can find members affili17
ated to the Ebrāhīmī, Khāmūshī and Yādegārī khāndāns. Nevertheless the
members of the same nuclear family, in the sense of the basic social unit, are
always affiliated to the same khāndān.
What do we know about the Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns? What is their role
within the community and their relationship with each other? In the first
part, we will summarize the basic facts concerning Ahl-i Haqq consecrated
families and present an overview of the historical data on the Ahl-i Haqq
khāndāns. Then we will examine the relationship of Ahl-i Haqq consecrated
families with each other and the role of these khāndāns in the wider order as
a whole. In the second part, we will examine the source of legitimacy of the
consecrated families and the ways this legitimacy is transmitted. We will explore the impact of modernity by briefly presenting recent developments
and the updating of the tradition by a set of decrees in the late twentieth
century within a branch of the order. We will focus more specifically on the
changes brought by those recent decrees in the status of women and their
rights and prerogatives. Finally, we will discuss the sometimes conflicted relationship between the perceived “holiness” or sanctity of particular exceptional charismatic individuals and the traditional khāndān lineages in the
Ahl-i Haqq order.
Regarding the historical sources for these discussions, there is no available literary production of Ahl-i Haqq authors dating from before the mid18
nineteenth century. Thus for the inventory and the history of the Ahl-i
15 Mohammad ‘Alī Soltānī, Īlāt va Tavāyef-i Kermānshāhān, Tehran, Movaffaq,
1372/1993, vol. 2, p. 320.
16 Pierre Oberling, “Gūrān,” Enc. Iranica, online edition, available at
http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/guran
17 Martin van Bruinessen, Satan’s psalmists, forthcoming. For a list of the Ahl-e Haqq
khāndāns see below.
18 See Jean During, “A critical survey on Ahl-e Haqq studies in Europe and Iran,”
in Tord Olsson, Elisabeth Özdalga and Catharina Raudvere, eds., Alevi identity:

224

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

Haqq families (khāndān), we refer here to the writings of some missionaries
and Orientalists who worked with the Ahl-i Haqq, such as S. G. Wilson, V.
Minorsky, S. Kordestani and F. M. Stead, as well as to recent historical research and anthropological fieldwork among Ahl-i Haqq in Iran by M. R.
Hamzeh’ee, J. During, and M. A. Soltānī.
Since the Ahl-i Haqq tradition has been essentially oral for centuries,
19
the written literature of the Ahl-i Haqq is extremely limited. Regarding the
primary sources, the Ahl-i Haqq sacred texts available nowadays are differ20
ent copies of kalāms which go back principally to eighteenth century. Ahli Haqq secondary sources produced by the Ahl-i Haqq authors themselves
expressing their comments on the kalāms, or their point of view on particular Ahl-i Haqq beliefs and practices, have been rare for many centuries.
Some sources used here, but not publically available, include the writings of
several Iranian Ahl-i Haqq authors such as M. al-Qāsī, Q. Afzalī, K. Nīknejād, and J. Afshār mentioned in our bibliography. These treatises have circulated privately among a small circle of followers and other people in whom
21
the authors have confidence.
My main sources for this article are the works of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī
22
23
(1871–1920) and N. A. Elāhī (1895–1974), who discussed more openly the
khāndāns’ role and legitimacy as well as the problems related to the trans-

19

20

21

22
23

cultural, religious and social perspectives, Richmond, Curzon Press, 1998, pp.
105-126.
See Mojan Membrado, “The Literary Production of the Ahl-i Haqq in the Modern
Era,” in Rachida Chih, Denis Gril, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Rüdiger Seesemann, eds., Sufism, Literary Production and Printing in the Nineteenth Century,
Würzburg, Ergon Verlag, forthcoming.
M. Mokri, a scholarly specialist on Kurdish dialects who has worked on various versions of the Ahl-i Haqq kalāms, affirms that the oldest copies available today go
back to seventeenth-eighteenth century. See Mohammad Mokri, “Le ‘secret indicible’ et la ‘pierre noire’,” Journal Asiatique, 250/3, 1962, p. 392.
Some copies in my possession have been transmitted to me during my fieldwork
with the Ahl-i Haqq in Iran, and I was able to consult some others thanks to Jean
During, who shared his sources with me. The manuscripts of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī’s
Forqān al-Akhbār, of Malek Jān Ne‘matī’s decrees (see below), and the manuscript
and first editions of N. A. Elāhī’s Borhān al-Haqq have all been graciously communicated to me thanks to the author’s family.
See Mojan Membrado, “Jeyhūnābādī, Hājj Ne‘mat-Allāh Mokri,” Enc. Iranica, XIV,
fasc. 6, pp. 641-643.
See Hamid Algar, James Morris, Jean During, “Elāhī, Ḥājj Nūr ‘Ali,” in Enc. Iranica,
VIII, fasc. 3, pp. 297-301. Ostad Elāhī, a learned scholar of the Ahl-i Haqq who led an
active life as a judge and who was well-versed in Islamic philosophy, is the author of
Borhān al-Haqq, the first publically available internal source about the Ahl-i Haqq,
first published in 1963.

225

MOJAN MEMBRADO

mission of religious and spiritual authority through time. These two authors
belong to the period of incipient modernity and colonial imperialism in the
region, an era during which their region and the wider Islamic world began
to undergo dramatic processes of change and reform; thus their point of
view must be put in the context of this particular historical period. Another
important feature of this recent period was rapid changes in transport and
communication, as well as in publishing. The practical demands of those
radically changing circumstances help to explain the clarifications these
leaders and authors brought regarding many points concerning the Ahl-i
Haqq, including the scope of legitimacy of the descendants of the consecrated families and the proper attitude of the followers with regard to those
24
lineages. The daughter of H. N. Jeyhūnabādī, Malek Jān Ne‘matī (1906–
25
1993), was another important contemporary author and religious leader referred to in this article. She is the only Ahl-i Haqq woman who has ever at tained such an influential rank. Her unpublished decrees instituted near the
26
end of her life are the basis for our study on the recent developments within the Ahl-i Haqq branch she personally led. Moreover, this remarkable
source provides us with important information on the recent transformation
of the status and prerogatives of women among the Ahl-i Haqq, as well as
its implications for the role of the traditional consecrated families, from the
perspective of her particular branch.
24 Hajj Ne‘matollāh’s many writings on the one hand, together with the publication in
1963 of Borhān al-Haqq on the other, have had a considerable impact on the wider
modern Ahl-i Haqq context, because they systematized and exposed through their
writings the distinctive elements of the Ahl-i Haqq faith and rituals which had been
considered for a long time as secret. Both these authors maintain that “the real spiritual “secret” is inherently protected by its very nature. Thus in modern times, when
communication is so easy and widespread, it is useless to hide one’s faith and practices, which should therefore be publically explained and justified.” See Nūr ‘Alī
Elāhī, Borhān al-Haqq (3rd ed.), p. 250.
25 On her life and work see Leili Anvar, Malek Jān Ne‘mati, Paris, Diane de Selliers,
2007. See also http://www.saintejanie.com/
26 I also use the results of my local fieldwork in Jeyhūnābād among the followers of
Malek Jān. Between 1996 and 2007 I conducted an investigation in Kurdistan, in
various localities of the province of Kermānshāh, and also among the Kurdish population in Tehran and its suburbs. I interviewed more than sixty people and the interviews’ recordings exceed one hundred hours. The purpose of my research was to
understand the behaviour of the Ahl-i Haqq communities facing the modernity; how
these communities could manage the change and adapt themselves to the modernity
without reneging on their traditions; the place of women in these religious groups
and the scope of their rights and authority; the weight of rites in the religious life
and the importance attached to the “accessory” (vs. principle).

226

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

Historical Overview of the Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns
To be considered as a member of the Ahl-i Haqq order, each man or woman
must be initiated by a guide (pīr) during a particular ceremony called “the
nutmeg ceremony” (jowz-i sar) or the ceremony of “entrusting of the head”
(sar sepordan). As a result, a clear distinction divides the Ahl-i Haqq order
into two groups: the consecrated khāndān families (the lineage of the pīrs)
and the remaining lay families.
Beside a pīr, each Ahl-i Haqq member should have another guide called
the dalīl (an assistant guide). During the ceremony of initiation, it is defined
for each new initiate who is his pīr and who is his dalīl. The hagiographic
tradition of the Ahl-i Haqq says that even the founder of the order, Sultān
27
Sahāk, has fulfilled the obligation of completing the ceremony of initiation.
His pīr was Benyāmīn and his dalīl was Dāvūd. During the period of the
founding of the order, they considered Benyāmīn and Dāvūd as the pīr and
the dalīl of all the Ahl-i Haqq, the eternal Pīr and Dalīl. But each Ahl-i Haqq
member has to choose a living, earthly pīr and dalīl: so since Benyāmīn and
Dāvūd did not have descendants, seven Ahl-i Haqq families were appointed
by Sultān to serve the function of pīr for the Ahl-i Haqq followers. Since
then, the function of dalīl has been delegated either to the descendants of a
28
particular category of the companions of Sultān, or to persons appointed
29
by the pīr and their descendants. The descendants of the consecrated families are considered representatives of the eternal pīr.
Although we do not have solid historical data concerning the origins of
this institution, the hagiographic tradition of the Ahl-i Haqq conveys the
ongoing importance and role of the khāndāns within the order. Hence the
question of the proper number and the names of the Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns
has preoccupied outside researchers ever since they first encountered the
Ahl-i Haqq. In the following section we will explore the question of the
number of Ahl-i Haqq consecrated families and how they have been identified through the course of history. To what extent were earlier travelers, explorers, and outside academic researchers able to clarify the mystery surrounding these Ahl-i Haqq sacred lineages? And what can we learn from
27 See Vladimir Minorsky, “Sultān Ishāq,” Enc. Islam 1, IV, p. 572.
28 Called the “72 pīrs,” these are understood to be the companions of the seventh rank
of Sultān; see N. A. Elāhī, Borhān al-Haqq, Tehran, 1354/1975, pp. 45-47.
29 For more explanation on the predefined traditional arrangements for the designation
of the pīr and dalīl, see N. A. Elāhī, Borhān al-Haqq, pp. 65-80 and 447-475; and M. R.
Hamzeh’ee, The Yaresan, pp. 198-216.

227

MOJAN MEMBRADO

the information provided by the various sources available for different periods?
This historical overview will be followed by a discussion of the nature of
the links relating each consecrated family lineage to the others. How were
these links established, and what role have they played in the survival of the
Ahl-i Haqq through history?

General Uncertainty Prevailing until Twentieth Century
Beginning with the earliest external studies regarding the Ahl-i Haqq, the
precise number and names of the consecrated families (khāndān) has been a
favorite subject of debate for authors and researchers. Since the Ahl-i Haqq
order was for centuries a relatively isolated and almost entirely orally transmitted tradition, emphasizing the prescribed discretion on its customs and
ceremonies, throughout that pre-modern period there was a great uncertainty surrounding the number of the khāndāns and their names. This lack
of clarity is particularly evident in the studies of the early orientalist researchers and other external sources that are cited through this section.
Those studies clearly reflect the widespread uncertainty regarding the very
definition of a khāndān from the point of view of such uninitiated outside
observers.
One of the earliest external sources (published in 1859), the French diplomat and traveler J. A. de Gobineau, noted that the Ahl-i Haqq community
is divided into eight different families, which he calls “sects”: the Ibrāhimi,
Dāvoudi, Miri, Soltān Babouri [Bābū-‘Issī ?], Khamouchi, Yadégari, Shah30
Eyazi [Ayāzī], et Khanétaschi [Khān Ātashī]. He also considers that the
name Khāmūshī (Khamouchi) probably came from the insulting term Cher31
āgh Khāmūshī (“those who put out the light”). For this reason, he then de-

30 Joseph Arthur de Gobineau, Trois ans en Asie (de 1855 à 1858), Paris, Hachette, 1859,
p. 345.
31 Gobineau notes (ibid., p. 345) that the name Khāmūshī probably comes from a
“generic and insulting term given by the Muslims to the Yezidis and transported by
them to the Ahl-i Haqq, with whom the Yezidis have nothing in common. It is the
abbreviation of Cherāq Khāmūshī, the extinguishers of light, and this name was given to them because the zealous mullahs have spread widely the opinion among their
flock that nossayrys [read Ahl-i Haqq] used to turn off the lights in nocturnal meetings in which men and women were all together, allowing for participants to mate
at random, the father with the girl, the mother with the son. This calumny applied
to many cults everywhere is too violent not to be absurd, and indeed quite contrary
to all beliefs of the nossayrys [Ahl-i Haqq].”

228

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES
32

letes this name from his list and retains only seven khāndāns. Later other
authors, including V. Minorsky, demonstrated that Gobineau’s interpretation was inaccurate, since the name Khāmūshī truly is the name of an Ahl-i
Haqq consecrated family. The name derived from the eponym of this family,
Seyyed Khāmūsh. Gobineau did not neglect the possibility that there were
still other subdivisions, indicating only that he never heard other names
than those he registered in his short list.
According to Gobineau, it would in fact be difficult to suppose that more
new family lineages would not emerge over time. Thus he discusses the possibility of the birth of new branches of the Ahl-i Haqq being founded by
charismatic leaders. The number of consecrated families could thus increase,
in cases where certain contemporary individuals can take on a special charismatic authority within their community and inspire such a high opinion
of their virtues and spiritual power during their lifetime that many people
would see them as a new starting point for reforming the ancient religious
tradition. Indeed, he specifically mentions that he personally knew a man
who was in the process of forming such a new branch, although he did not
mention his name; so we cannot verify whether or not this actually took
place. He adds in relation to this unnamed contemporary individual that he
is obviously not alone in this situation, since the seven recognized Ahl-i
Haqq branches owe their existence to just such charismatic holy individu33
als. Thus the view of Gobineau’s writings is that the process of creation of
new branches is a natural, inevitable and positive process.
34
Fifteen years later, the American missionary Reverend Wilson, who
carefully observed the Turkish-speaking Azerbaijani village of Īlkhchī, provided another list containing seven consecrated Ahl-i Haqq families whose
names are different from those listed by Gobineau (see table below).
35
In 1902, the Russian oriental scholar V. Minorsky collected two different lists (see table below) containing the names of different khāndāns. The
first was dictated to him by a former Ahl-i Haqq follower who had conver36
37
ted to the Baha’i faith, and the second by a khalīfa belonging to the Ātash
32 Ibid., p. 346.
33 Ibid., p. 346.
34 Samuel Graham Wilson, Persian life and customs, New York, AMS Press Inc., [1895]
1973.
35 Vladimir Minorsky, “Notes sur la secte des Ahl-i Haqq,” Revue du Monde Musulman,
1920, p. 46.
36 Ibid., pp. 22, 46.
37 Khalīfa is the title of the holder of a specific function in the ritual meeting (jam).

229

MOJAN MEMBRADO

Bagī tradition (i.e., Mīrzā Khodā Qolī, who was Minorsky’s main informant
in 1902). This informant also identified seven consecrated families among
the Ahl-i Haqq.
Minorsky explains the diversity among accounts of the consecrated families by the widely dispersed geographic expansion of the order. The Ahl-i
Haqq by that time lived in settlements widely separated from each other and
marked by important ethnic and linguistic differences. They were thus separated not only by distance, but also by the other tribes and religions and
38
cultures among which they lived. According to Minorsky, this feature,
combined with the constraints of preserving the oral “secret” of their customs and ceremonies, prevented a harmonization of beliefs among the different Ahl-i Haqq communities. And there is no doubt that such factors help
to explain some of the doctrinal and ritual variation among the Ahl-i Haqq
branches visible today.
S. Kordestani (1927), unlike the previous authors, estimated that there
39
were eighteen khāndāns among Ahl-i Haqq. He does not produce a complete list, but cites three main groups: the Shāh Ebrāhīmī, Haftavānī, and
40
Ātash Bagī. According to him, the Shāh Ebrāhīmī and Ātash Bagī were the
most numerous. The Ātash Bagī groups were mainly located in Azerbaijan,
especially around Urmia. Then there were the Haftavānīs, whose major centers were Kerend, Dinvar, Sahneh, Hamadan and the surrounding villages in
Qazvin. They include a good number of the nomads of the district, who
moved for the winter to Gilan. This group was also settled in Tehran and
some of its nearby villages. He noted that some Ahl-i Haqq villages were
also in the Khamseh region (in southwest Iran), many in Mazandaran (near
the Caspian Sea), with thousands of families in Luristan, and with some others settled among the Turkmen and in the area of Mosul in Iraq; he mentioned that they also claim to have disciples in India as well.
In a study published in 1932, the Christian missionary F.M. Stead specified the names of three other supposed Ahl-i Haqq branches: the Dāvūdī,
41
the Tāusī (or the Cult of the Peacock, as he calls it) and the Nosairī. Like

38
39
40
41

This is the person who shares equally the offerings of blessed food (nazr). By extension, in the Ahl-i Haqq angelology, a particular class of Sultān Ishāq’s companions
held the rank of eternal Khalīfa.
Ibid., p. 46.
Saeed Khan Kordestani, “The sect of Ahl-i Haqq (Ali ilahis),” The Moslem World, 17,
1927, p. 40.
Ibid., p. 40.
F. M. Stead, “The Ali Ilahi sect in Persia,” The Moslem World, vol. 22, 1932, p. 186.

230

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

Gobineau, F.M. Stead also notes the possibility of the creation of new
branches. But, contrary to Gobineau, who saw the process of the creation of
a new branch following a charismatic founder as a sort of spiritual regeneration, F.M. Stead instead pejoratively terms the branches thus formed as “her42
esies that appear from time to time.”
As indicated by this summary overview of the data on the number and
names of Ahl-i Haqq families (khāndān) mentioned by earlier outside sources, it is clear that at least until the mid-twentieth century, those external
sources are not remotely in agreement even on the number and name of
these consecrated families. This evident incoherence and uncertainty may
43
well be due to the multiple factors earlier pointed out by Minorsky: i.e., the
Ahl-i Haqq in those periods lived in settlements separated from each other
by great distances (particularly in light of the available forms of transportation and communication), and which were also subject to major ethnic, cultural and linguistic differences. The resulting differences were further amplified by the absence of any shared authority and by the constraints of their
strictly oral tradition and its distinctive “taboo of secrecy” regarding Ahl-i
Haqq ceremonies and beliefs.
Given those ambient circumstances, one can easily imagine how difficult it would be for almost any local informant interviewed in a particular
village to have specific information on the much wider whole group
scattered across such a wide and disparate region. Hence the major differences between these early reports concerning the Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns no
doubt reflect the lack of any comprehensive knowledge on the part of the
44
local informants themselves.
To sum up, the main lists of the khāndāns provided by travelers, missionaries and orientalist scholars until the mid-twentieth century are given
in the following table:

42 Ibid., p. 186.
43 Minorsky, ibid., p. 46.
44 Ivanow says that when the question of the number of branches is asked, the Ahl-i
Haqq who are not accustomed to formulating answers to theoretical questions respond by giving a “sacred” number such as 7 or 12 and by mixing the well-known
names with other imagined ones. According to him, this has caused a large variation
between the lists produced by different travelers. See Vladimir A. Ivanow, Majmū‘e-i
Rasā’il va Ash‘ār-i Ahl-i Haqq, Bombay, The Ismā‘īlī Society, 1950, p. 7.

231

MOJAN MEMBRADO

List of the names and the number of Ahl-i Haqq consecrated families
45
(khāndān) published prior to the mid-twentieth century
n°

Gobineau
(1859:345)

Wilson
(1895:239)

Minorsky I
(1920:46)

Minorsky II
(1920:46)

Kordestani
(1927:40)

Stead
(1932:186)

1

Ibrāhimi

Davoudi

Seyyed
Mohammed

Khāmouchi

Shah
Ebrahimi

Dāvūdi

2

Dāvoudi

Yedelar

Soltān Bābāsi
[Bābū-‘Isi]

Chāh Ibrāhimi

Ātashbegi

Tausi or the cult
of peacock

3

Miri

CheikhIbrāhimi

Cheikh Chāh
Atech-begui
Ābedin [Shahāb
ed-Dīn ?]

Haftavānis

Nosairi

4

Soltān Babourī Atech-begui
[Bābū-‘Isi
(‘Isā)?]

Mīr ed-Dīn

Haft-dévāné
Gives the total
[=Haft-tavāne?] number of 18

5

Khamouchi

Abdol-begui

Mostafā

Seyyed Djélāli

6

Yadégari

Alevi

Khāmouch

Bābā-Yādegāri

7

Chah-Eyazi

Benyamini

? [sic]

Hādji Bektāchi

8

Khanétaschi
[Khān Ātashī
= Ātash Bagī ]

Bābā Yādegāri

9

Chehyāzi
[Shāh Hayāsī ]

10

Zarrin

11

Aali [=‘Ālī
Qalandarī ?]

12

Khan Atechi

45 V. Minorsky (ibid, p. 47) notes that the only family named in the first four lists is the
“Ātash bagi” family, adding that it is possible that the same division is designated
differently in different lists. For example the terms “Bābā Yādegāri” and “Yādegāri”
both denote the same family. Similarly, it is quite possible that “Yedelar” reported by
Wilson is “Yādegār”. The name “Khāmūshī” also appears in most lists. All names are
given here in the forms reported in the original publications. The “Seyyed Jalāl” division (also called Siyāh Supūr, black brush, number 5 of the second list of Minorsky
(ibid, pp. 48-49), is probably related to the Khāksār order. Minorsky (ibid, p. 49, note
1) states that the Seyyed of Kelārdasht, in his list of the Sufi orders that are at the
stage of tarīqa (path) has named the Bektāshī, the Ni'matullāhī, the Zahabīs, the
Rifā’īs and the Jalālīs (alias Khāksār). V. Minorsky states also that he cannot assert
the identity of these two groups, however, other sources show less hesitation, designating the Jalālīs as a branch of the Khāksār (See N. Modarresī Chahārdehī, Khāksār
va Ahl-i Haqq, Tehran, Eshrāqī, 1358/1979, p. 3). According to some informants of V.
Minorsky, Khān Ātash (the founder of the Ātash bagī family) was a contemporary of
Nāder Shāh Afshār (1736–1747). This informant relates that the title of Khān was
given to Khān Ātash and his brothers by this ruler. Khān Ātash contributed to Nāder
Shāh's victory over the Turks (thus his epithet as Rūm-Shekan, “Turkish-breaker”),
and Nāder Shāh donated several villages in Khorasan to Khān Ātash (Minorsky,
ibid., p. 41).

232

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES
46

More recently, in 1988, Prof. M. Moosa established a list of twenty-two
khāndāns, based on the first four lists mentioned above: those of Gobineau,
Minorsky (I and II), and Rev. Wilson.
In 1963, Nūr ‘Ali Elāhī published Borhān al-Haqq (“Demonstration of the
Truth”), a comprehensive treatise dealing with the history, origins, beliefs,
principles, rites, and tenets of the Ahl-i Haqq order. This pioneering book,
addressing outsiders as well as members of the order, included the first complete listing of the Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns made by an “insider” scholar who
47
actually belonged to the Ahl-i Haqq. According to his list, there are eleven
Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns, the first seven of which are presumed to have been
established at the foundation of the order, while four other khāndāns developed later:
1. Khāndān of Shāh Ebrāhīm
2. Khāndān of ‘Ālī Qalandar
3. Khāndān of Bābā Yādegār
4. Khāndān of Khāmūsh (descendant de Seyyed Abu-l-Wafā)
5. Khāndān of Mīr Sūr
6. Khāndān of Seyyed Mosaffā
7. Khāndān of Hājjī Bābū ‘Isā
The foundation of these first seven khāndāns was directly ordered by Sultān
Ishāq (or Sahāk, the founder of the order) himself.
8. Khāndān of Zolnūr (descendants of the same Seyyed Abu-al-Wafā who is
also among the seven above-mentioned khāndāns)
9. Khāndān of Ātash Bag
10. Khāndān of Shāh Hayās
11. Khāndān of Bābā Heydar
These last three khāndāns (numbers nine to eleven) were founded after Sultān, so their founders may have lived between the eleventh and twelfth cen48
turies CE (seventeenth-eighteenth centuries AH). It seems that the creation
46 Matti Moosa, Extremist Shiites: The Ghulat Sects, Syracuse, Syracuse University
Press, 1988, pp. 189-190.
47 Borhān al-Haqq (3rd ed., 1354/1975), pp. 67-72. Elāhī’s list which has served as a basis
for M. R. Hamzeh’ee’s more recent research is published in English in Hamzeh’ee’s
The Yaresan: A sociological, historical and religio-historical study of a Kurdish community, Berlin, Klaus Schwarz, 1990, pp. 205-216.
48 Elāhī, ibid., pp. 72-73.

233

MOJAN MEMBRADO

of the four more recent families took place through the sort of process sug49
gested by Gobineau, as mentioned above. However, some devotees apparently consider the four later consecrated families to be less authentic than
those that are prior.
50
In the early twentieth century, in Hajj Ne’matullāh Jeyhūnābādī’s writings, in addition to the eleven khāndāns, he also mentioned a twelfth khāndān that he himself had been ordered to establish by the “Master of the Age”
(sāheb zamān). His followers, who numbered more than several thousand
individuals, called this new one “the twelfth khāndān”.
This summary of the state of research on the Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns pinpoints
the fact that the basic historical information regarding the khāndāns is extremely sparse, even for relatively recent periods. Not surprisingly, the very
definition of a khāndān is not very clear. We have seen that what makes of
an ordinary family lineage a khāndān is primarily the effective sanctification
of subsequent generations by a charismatic theophanic figure. And although
the actual history of the Ahl-i Haqq is still largely unexplored, some of the
order’s own sacred or hagiographic sources testify that such sanctification
has happened at least twice in the earlier history of the order: once at its
foundation (thirteenth-fourteenth centuries), and for a second time in the
course of the seventeenth-eighteenth centuries. These internal sources are
specifically the Kalām-i Saranjām (versified sayings of the founder, Sultān
Ishāq, and the saints before him), which contains sections about the foundation of the seven early consecrated families; and the versified sayings of the
eponym saints of the later khāndāns, which contain sections on the founda51
tion of these later families, among other topics. It should be noted, moreover, that in the actual Ahl-i Haqq contexts of earlier centuries, there was
no need to provide any reference to a written source order to justify such
sanctification. The ways that followers experienced and judged such a sanctification were of course based above all on the visible effects and lasting
impact of the saintly, charismatic personality in question, rather than any
sort of texts. In practice, the institutionalization of such sanctification was
49 Gobineau, ibid, p. 346.
50 For more details on the spiritual figure of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, see Mojan Membrado,
“Jeyhunābādī, Hājj Neʿmat-Allāh Mokri”. in Enc. Iranica, XIV, Fasc. 6, pp. 641-643.
51 See for example the Turkish kalāms published in H. Beik Bāghbān, Religion de Vérité
– Enquête de Sociologie religieuse chez les Ahl-é-Hakk d'Iran, Ph.D. thesis, Université
de Strasbourg, 1975; and S. K. Nīknejād, Kalāmāt-i Torkī, n.pl., n.d.

234

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

preserved and confirmed by the dignified attitude that the descendants of
that saintly figure were expected to have.
The lack of solid historical information on the saintly founders of the
khāndāns makes of them figures on the borderline between legend and reality. As recorded in the hagiographic traditions of the Ahl-i Haqq, the
khāndāns were able to survive through long centuries because of the specific
needs that they served and the answers they provided. As mentioned before,
these needs principally concerned the ritual aspects of the religious life of
the members of the order: in the main, this meant blessing their offerings
and performing the ceremony of initiation. But the khāndāns have survived
52
also thanks to a specific code regulating their relationship with each other.
A particular pact of allegiance associates some khāndāns to others, helping
to create a set of enduring alliances among them.

Trans-familial Alliances
We briefly mentioned in previous sections that each Ahl-i Haqq member
must have a pīr (guide) and a dalīl (assistant guide); this implies that among
the Ahl-i Haqq, each pīr or dalīl must have in turn his own pīr and dalīl.
This raises the problem of how a pīr and dalīl can be chosen for a person
who himself already occupies one of these two key religious functions? M.R.
53
Hamzeh’ee presents the institutional solution to this dilemma as clearly involving a network of alliances between and within the consecrated families.
Most khāndāns originally chose another family among the Ahl-i Haqq
khāndāns to provide the pīr for their own pīr or dalīl. But some khāndāns
have not established such links with other family lineages, preferring to designate their pīr and dalīl, in these circumstances, from within their own
family. The gradual historical development of the order sometimes led to the
54
modification of the pacts between certain families. The historical reasons
for those modifications are not clear, as this subject has not yet been scientifically scrutinized. Nevertheless the modification of these alliances results
in a change of the choice of an external pīr and dalīl for a given family. The
52 Hamzeh’ee considers that the survival of the Yaresan (Ahl-i Haqq) is due to their political non-radicalism and their social organization, particularly through the transfamilial pacts and other features he discusses broadly in his research: see his Yaresan, pp. 251-260.
53 Ibid, pp. 212-216, Tables 1-5; and p. 228, Table 6. The information about the
khāndāns presented in Hamzeh’ee’s work is based on N. A. Elāhī, Borhān al-Haqq,
pp. 66 and 76-78.
54 These historical developments are described in N. A. Elāhī’s Borhān al-Haqq, pp. 76-78.

235

MOJAN MEMBRADO

data we have at present on the alliances between and within these khāndāns
can be summarized as follows:
“The khāndān of Shāh Ebrāhīm is initiated by the khāndān of Seyyed
Khāmūsh and vice versa.
The khāndān of ‘Ālī Qalandar before the advent of Ātash Bag was initiated
by the khāndān of Shāh Ebrāhīm; since then it is initiated by the khāndān of
Ātash Bag.
The khāndān of Bābā Yādegār is initiated by the khāndān of Shāh Ebrāhīm.
The khāndān of Mīr Sūr and the khāndān of Seyyed Mosaffā are initiated
mutually by each other.
The khāndān of Hājjī Bābū ‘Isā is initiated by the khāndān of Mīr Sūr.
Regarding the last four families – i.e., those of Ātash Bag, Shāh Hayās, Bābā
Heydar and Zonnūr [Zolnūr] – they are all initiated by their own khān55
dān.”
56

Other lists associate some khāndāns one with another by using the Ahl-i
Haqq doctrine according to which some important Ahl-i Haqq figures from
different historical periods might occupy the same spiritual rank. This spiritual rank here is called takht (“throne”). According to the Ahl-i Haqq angelology, it appears that the paired saintly figures of ‘Alī Qalandar and Yādegār, Shāh Ebrāhīm and Zolnūr, Mīr Sūr and Ātash Bag, Bābā Heydar and
Shāh Hayās have the same spiritual rank. Consequently their khāndāns are,
for each pair of figures, of the same spiritual reality (takht). Thus H. N. Jeyhūnābādī counts these eight khāndāns as four takhts, since each pair is associated together. The other remaining khāndāns – namely Khāmūshī, Bābū
‘Isā and Seyyed Mosaffā – represent three independent takhts. This brings
the total number of Ahl-i Haqq takhts up to the sacred number of seven. According to this same author, there are therefore eleven Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns
plus a twelfth branch that he calls the khāndān of the Sāheb Zamān (“Master
57
of Time”).
55 N. A. Elāhī, ibid, pp. 77-78.
56 H. N. Jeyhūnābādī provides a list of khāndāns and describes their relationship in various passages of his works. See Shāhnāmeh-yi Haqīqat, Haqq al-Haqāyeq, Tehran,
Hoseynī, 1363/1984, pp. 232-234 and 315-317; H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, Forqān al-Akhbār,
unpublished manuscript, Jeyhūnābād, 1909, manuscripts A, pp. 133-138 and B. pp.
128-130, ed. by M. Membrado as “Forqān al-Akhbar de Hājj Ne‘matollāh Jeyhūnābādī
(1871–1920), écrit doctrinal Ahl-i Haqq, édition critique, étude et commentaire,”
Ph.D. dissertation, Paris, École Pratique des Hautes Etudes, 2007.
57 This refers to Hājj Ne‘matūllāh’s establishment of his “own” new branch, as mentioned above.

236

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

The khāndāns are not allowed to interfere in each other's internal affairs. According to H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, it is prohibited to recruit murīds (fol58
lowers) from another khāndān, unless they are from the same takht. The
choice of pīr and dalīl from a particular khāndān does not in any case imply
a relationship of superiority or inferiority among different khāndāns; it is a
mere formality required to perform the ceremony of Ahl-i Haqq initiation
(sar-sepordan).
Hamzeh’ee has judiciously noted that:
[…] Each of them [khāndān] is an autonomous unit. These
autonomous units are connected to each other not only by a common religion but also by the institution of “sar-sepordan” [initiation] of the khāndāns. This is a vertical loyalty which brings the
khāndāns together. It is also possible that the Seyyed families of
the khāndāns are connected to each other through marriage or
the [pact of] Eqrār. The social organization of the Yaresan is like
59
a well-woven net which cannot easily be destroyed.
The “Eqrār” referred to here by Hamzeh’ee is a pact of spiritual kinship or
fraternity between two or more persons. The pact links very closely the persons involved, who become partners to share the merit of their good or bad
deeds. They can count on each other in any situation, especially in case of
material or moral distress. People connected to each other by eqrār could be
from (or follow) different khāndāns. These individual pacts create another
type of trans-familial alliances between the communities. Marriage is prohibited between a man and a woman linked by eqrār. It is said that the pro60
hibition continues until the seventh generation of their descendants. This
particular kind of pact of brotherhood is concluded with the advice and in61
tervention of a seyyed.
As a seyyed is supposed to act like a father toward the lay members who
have been initiated by his family, he is not allowed to choose his wife
amongst them. This prohibition is not totally observed in our era. Traditionally the marriage of the male descendants of a particular khāndān is only allowed either with a non Ahl-i Haqq person or with women of another
58 H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, Shāhnāmeh Haqīqat, pp. 316-317.
59 Hamzeh’ee, The Yaresan, p. 255
60 Cecil J. Edmonds, “The Beliefs and Practices of the Ahl-i-Haqq of Iraq,” Iran – Journal of the British Institute of Persian Studies, 7, 1969, p. 100.
61 For more details on this highly distinctive pact of spiritual “fraternity,” see (among
others) Gobineau, ibid, pp. 361-363.

237

MOJAN MEMBRADO

khāndān with whom his family do not have a link through the trans-familial
pact. If a seyyed marries a lay member – of his own khāndān or from the
khāndān of his pīr – the only way to remedy this violation of the marriage
rules is the cancellation of the contract of allegiance which links the offenders to the khāndān concerned. Then both the male and female offender
should go through the ceremony of initiation (sar-sepordan) for a second
62
time in their life, choosing another khāndān as pīr.
As the Ahl-i Haqq tradition is far from monolithic, the beliefs and practices of the different khāndāns could vary from each other. That variation
63
could concern the different doctrinal aspects, as already mentioned, or the
ritual and practical aspects. For example the majority of khāndāns, except
for one, fast for three days per year, but they disagree about the specific
dates for that fast. Even though theoretically the khāndāns are all equal and
respect each other, these variations – particularly of practice and ritual –
undoubtedly create tensions among their followers. Some examples of such
64
tensions can be found in the notes of travelers and more recent scholars.
Such conflicts and resulting tensions could also occur whenever a new
center of religious authority is formed outside of the existing khāndān system. This brings us to the unavoidable question of the nature of religious
authority among the Ahl-i Haqq, including its different types and its transmission and institutionalization.

The khāndāns and Religious Authority
The scope of authority of the khāndāns is related to the function they complete: initiating people and perpetuating the order through the time. The
transmission of this authority is related to the internal structure of the family. In the following section we will examine the internal structure of a
khāndān and how the authority is transmitted, we will see the challenges
the khāndān face today mainly in regard with the role played by women in
the modern times and the impact of the modernity on the organization of
this system. In the second section we will study the relation between holiness and the family, and the different types of authority in the Ahl-i Haqq
context.

62 H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, Shāhnāmeh Haqiqat, p. 317.
63 For more details, see “Ahl-i Haqq” in Dāyerat al-Ma‘ārīf-i Tashayyo‘, p. 613.
64 According to van Bruinessen, Satan’s Psalmists, for instance, some followers of the
Yādegārī and Khāmushī families are in conflicting terms with the Ebrāhīmī family.

238

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

The khāndān: a Patriarchy?
Within a wider social system in which power is normally and primarily held
by adult men, the khāndān has normally been a patriarchy. Generally the
duty to represent the family is patrilineal, inherited by the oldest son, although in some rare cases younger brothers or even nephews may inherit
65
it. Regarding the title of seyyed, it is inherited by all the male descendants.
Contrary to a strict patriarchy, the khāndān organization was not systematically based on actual blood ties at its foundation. Some of the eponymous founders of khāndān were not married, and in those cases the khān66
dān named for them was founded by their close companions. But once a
khāndān was founded, patrilineal blood ties did normally provide the basis
for its religious authority. Thus only the male descendants of the leaders of
a khāndān can have the responsibility to conduct ritual ceremonies or to initiate a person. The hereditary religious authority for leading officials (the legitimacy to be considered a seyyed, or the status of sīyādat), as well as all
other rights, was transmitted exclusively by male descendants to male descendants.
Recently the extended family trees of some khāndāns have been pub67
lished. As mentioned before, certain khāndāns trace their origin to the
founder of the Ahl-i Haqq order, Sultān Ishāq, who is considered to be a descendant of the seventh Shi‘ite imam, thereby carrying their origin back to
‘Alī (and Muhammad). Other khāndāns consider themselves to be the lineal
descendants of the particular founding theophanic figure after whom their
lineage is named.
Endogamy (marrying only within the khāndān) is not a rule: the members of a consecrated family can marry people from outside of their khāndān. Marriage with the non Ahl-i Haqq followers is encouraged for the male
descendants, less welcomed for the female descendants but not prohibited. It
is formally prohibited however that a male or female descendant of a khāndān marry a commoner from their own khāndān. Nonetheless they can
65 For example, Khāmūsh, the youngest son of the head of the Abū-l-Wafā’ī khāndān,
was designated by their Shāh Ebrāhīmī pīrs to replace his father after his death. This
designation disappointed his older brothers and eventually provoked the creation of
the Zolnūrī khāndān by the grandson of one of those brothers. Another example is
in the Shāh Hayāsī khāndān, when seyyed Ahmad was replaced by his nephew
seyyed ‘Abbās (contemporary with the Iranian king, Mohammad Shāh Qājār, ruled
1834–1848). See Jeyhūnābādī, Shāhnāmeh, pp. 328-329.
66 This is the case with the ‘Ālī Qalandarī and Yādegārī families.
67 See M. A. Soltānī, Tārikh-i khāndānhā-yi Haqīqat, pp. 32, 65-67, 152-160, 171-172.

239

MOJAN MEMBRADO

marry a commoner from another family or a seyyed from a family not linked
to them with a pact of initiation.
Interestingly, polygamy and divorce were almost inexistent among the
Ahl-i Haqq until the later nineteenth-twentieth century, to such an extent
that outside visitors and orientalist scholars reported this phenomenon as an
68
interesting element distinguishing the Ahl-i Haqq from their neighbors.
Even nowadays, after the revolution and the change of family laws in Iran,
polygamy remains very rare among the Ahl-i Haqq.
Women play a discreet role in the consecrated families. They are principally mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters of a seyyed. The female descendant is called seyyed-zādeh, i.e. someone “born to a seyyed.” The wife of a
seyyed could also be a seyyed-zādeh, or an uninitiated woman who was initiated before their marriage.
A seyyed-zādeh is normally respected by the commoners, although she
does not enjoy the ritual prerogatives of a seyyed. When the female members of a khāndān are questioned by the followers, they may transmit what
they have learned from their father/brother/husband to the women of their
community. The knowledge circulating in a khāndān is above all related to
the ritual aspect of the Ahl-i Haqq tradition: for example, questions related
to the offerings, blessing of the food, initiation, prayers, etc. Because of the
oral and practical features of this knowledge, its transmission is usually
more through the observation and experience than through lessons or theoretical discussions. The male descendants start to participate in the ritual
assemblies from their childhood; they learn how to behave in a given ceremony and they know how to conduct it when they grew up. The female
members learn these issues indirectly, since according to the traditional socio-religious organization of Ahl-i Haqq, women's participation in these official ritual ceremonies is prohibited. In the assemblies of prayer or blessing,
the direct presence of women is not tolerated, however if her husband or
senior male relative approves, a woman may be present near the gathering
place, but she should stay behind a barrier which would protect her from
69
being seen (behind a wall or a curtain, for example).
68 See for example Gobineau, ibid., p. 342: “Le divorce n’est pas admis et si quelqu’un
bénéficie de la loi du Coran dans ce domaine, il tombe aussitôt dans le mépris et est
considéré comme un apostat.”
69 This practice is actually common. On the role played by women in the Ahl-i Haqq
order, according to the hagiographical traditions, women who have historically
played an important role are mostly the mothers of the saints. They are often virgins
who become pregnant by eating a pomegranate seed, by a sun beam, etc., or who do

240

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

Regarding the status of women and the scope of their rights and prerogatives, a major advance was brought about in the 1990-92 by Malek Jān
70
Ne‘matī (1906–1993), the then-elderly daughter of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī.
The impact of changes she brought in about sixty decrees that she an 71
nounced gradually between 1990 and 1992 from her little Kurdish village
was so strong that they shook up all the communities where her followers
lived. According to these decrees, not only are women authorized to participate in the official worship meetings (jam), but they can even conduct and
lead these rituals. Given the traditional Ahl-i Haqq context described above,
it is easy to imagine the radical changes this measure introduced. It was immediately applied among the followers of Malek Jān in the Kurdish villages,
in the Iranian cities and in diaspora – although its application was harder in
the rural traditional milieus than in the urban and foreign centers. Since the
application of these measures, women who were held for centuries behind
walls and curtains entered the jam (ritual assembly) and took on central
roles. The change was so sweeping that some old men in Kurdistan recounted to me their reluctance at the beginning (in 1990–92) to eat the food offerings blessed by a woman. According to the Ahl-i Haqq precepts, an offering must be correctly blessed, since otherwise it is prohibited for an initiated
person to eat it. During the first days after this measure was announced,
some people were inwardly struggling to accept that an offering blessed by
not have any state of pregnancy before receiving the child miraculously. The central
divine theophanies are often conceived or born in such a supernatural way.
70 She was born in the village of Jeyhūnābād in Kermānshāh region, where she spent
most of her life. By the age of 20, Malek Jān was completely blind; but in spite of her
disability and fragile physique, she grew to be revered in her community and beyond as a sage and saintly figure. M. J. Ne‘matī was the first woman succeeding to
the leadership of a religious community where traditionally women could not even
participate directly in a ritual assembly. Malek Jān spent her whole life in her native
village in Iran. As she suffered from a serious cardiac illness at the age of 87, she was
transported to France during the last three months of her life (from May to July
1993) for heart surgery, which proved fatal. In accordance with the wishes of her
family, most of whom now live in France, she was buried in Baillou, a small village
located in the region of Perche. For a description and photos of her shrine at Baillou,
now visited by pilgrims from many parts of the world, see http://www.saintejanie.
com/en/thememorial.htm
71 The decrees are unpublished notes in Persian, a copy of which has been given to me
by the author’s family. I plan to present this source and analyze its contents in a
separate paper with explanations of the wider social effects of these new teachings
in the same planned article. Some of the decrees – e.g., equality between men and
women’s rights, or regarding the moustache – affected men and other followers far
beyond that local context.

241

MOJAN MEMBRADO

a woman was indeed correctly blessed, and that eating it would not be a
breach of religious duty.
The reaction of the other khāndāns to these measures was rather hostile.
They criticized Malek Jān and her followers. Nonetheless these changes
were introduced at least in this particular branch, and women have held an
important role ever since then. Female seyyeds, following Malek Jān, now
bless the offerings, initiate people and conduct rituals. These women are not
necessarily seyyed-zādehs. Moreover, if their dignified attitude is confirmed
throughout the time, they might also transmit their prerogatives to their deserving descendants, including their daughters, which is a dramatic departure from the traditional hereditary and patrilineal model of transmission.
Regarding the prerogatives of not only the female seyyeds but of women in general, many other changes were also introduced by Malek Jān, for
example the right to transmit their faith to their child without asking for the
father’s permission. A child resulting from the marriage of an Ahl-i Haqq
woman with an outsider can therefore be initiated, regardless the opinion of
his or her father.
Another measure was to authorize marriage between the members of
the khāndāns and the common or lay Ahl-i Haqq followers. Given the noncompliance of all the Ahl-i Haqq communities with the traditional rule and
the multiplicity of the cases of marriage between seyyeds and their followers in modern times, this measure was more an acknowledgement of the ex isting situation than a new change.
Another important shift implemented by these decrees had to do with
the laws regulating the division of the inheritance. According to these decrees, inheritances should be shared equally between male and female offspring. This measure departs obviously from the predominantly patrilineal
and patriarchal patterns and customs that were largely endorsed by earlier
Islamic practices. In the countries where the general law is not in accordance with this measure, Malek Jān’s followers normally prepare a will specifically containing such a clause (since such a will is permitted by the national laws). During field work in 2005 in Sahneh, Kermānshāh, and some
villages of Kurdistan, most of her followers whom I encountered had officially stated this provision in their wills, although this change did seem hard
to accept for the older generation.
As a result, the recent developments in this particular branch of the Ahli Haqq introduced and formalized a new place for women in an environment where traditionally they had not had many prerogatives. These
242

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

changes were directed against discrimination, dogmatism, fanaticism and
outdated local customs. They introduced and legitimized a dramatic change
in mentalities by updating certain rites and practices. It should be kept in
mind, however, that these measures are only applied among Malek Jān’s followers, which highlights the contrast between this particular current and
the various other khāndāns of the Ahl-i Haqq, which generally follow the
earlier patriarchal traditions.
The contrasts inherent in this recent case sharply raise a truly fundamental question of authority: who can take such a decision? Apart from the
khāndāns, is there another type of religious or spiritual authority that has
also been operating in the Ahl-i Haqq context?

Religious Authority: Ritual vs. Spiritual
We have seen that in the Ahl-i Haqq order, the religious authority, particularly regarding the ritual dimension and ceremonies, is held by the descendants of a khāndān. The explanation and justification of this system is found
in the Ahl-i Haqq doctrinal beliefs concerning the transmigrations of the
soul (particularly of the foremost divine manifestations) and the recurrent,
72
cyclical nature of time. A family that has been approved by God, as long as
the divine approbation accompanies it, becomes a dwelling place (khāneh)
for the “holy spark” (dāneh): thus the spiritual legitimacy of a khāndān rests
on its sanctification by a holy figure, i.e. the eponymous founder or theophany.
The system for transmission of this authority is hereditary, from father
to son. But when the “holy spark” (the divine approbation for spiritual guid ance) happens to leave one person, then his brother or someone else could
be designed in his stead. This was the case, for instance, of Seyyed Ahmad
(eighteenth century), the son of Seyyed Rostam, from the Shāh Hayāsī khāndān, who committed the fault of being arrogant. The hagiographic tradition
indicates that the holy spark left him and went to his brother, Seyyed ‘Ab 73
bās, who became thereafter the representative of the Shāh Hayāsī family.
The transmission of authority can lead in some cases to conflicting relations and preferences. For example in the case of the Abū-l-Wafā’ī family, a
conflict surrounding the transmission of authority caused the emigration of
74
one of the grandsons of Abū-l-Wafā to Luristan (fifteenth century), after
72 See J. During, “Notes sur l'angélologie Ahl-i Haqq,” pp. 129-153.
73 See H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, Shāhnāmeh Haqīqat, 1361, pp. 328-329.
74 According to Soltānī, Tārikh-i khāndānhā-yi Haqīqat, p. 35, Abū-l-Wafā was

243

MOJAN MEMBRADO

which his great-grandson, Zolnūr, established a new khāndān. Incidentally,
as we have seen in our earlier study of the khāndāns, such branches which
at their foundation were probably considered as “dissident” are by now universally recognized as “traditional” families.
There can be certain obvious dysfunctions in the hereditary transmission of the authority: one such case is the abuse by certain impious descendants who use their religious power to achieve material gains. As mentioned
before, Ahl-i Haqq members pay annually a certain amount of ritual taxes
(indexed on the price of the pure silver) to their pīr and dalīl; when a seyyed
is not really committed in his faith, he can take advantage of that situation.
Thus a great many stories and comments are mentioned in the travel accounts and other studies of the Ahl-i Haqq regarding the pecuniary profits
accumulated by some pīrs as a result of this system:
The Seyyed knew where was the residence of their flock ... Each
year, one of the brothers of my mirza … under some pretext or
other, went to Qarabagh (Transcaucasia) ... He left without a
penny, but came back loaded with all kinds of objects: copper
75
pots, expensive rugs, gold and silver....
Another dysfunction of this hereditary transmission of religious authority is
when a seyyed is not well-informed concerning the basis of his faith, so that
he finds himself invested with religious authority simply because of his family lineage. In the modern period, the wider desire for codification and clarification of belief and practice evident in much of the Muslim world is manifested in those writings of the charismatic Ahl-i Haqq figure of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī (1871–1920), which call into question the hereditary transmission
of religious authority:
If the Truth is one, then why does each person praise his own
ego? The seyyeds and khāndāns all have the pretention to be the
seekers of the Truth, but they act as enemies of each other and
none of them believes in what the other says. They are more concerned with their egos and material advantages and the business
of having followers (dokān-dārī) … The spiritual leadership does
not depend on heredity; it depends on the merit that one acquires
contemporary with the poet Shams Maghrebī (749 AH/1348 CE to 809/1406).
75 See V. Minorsky, “Notes sur la secte des Ahl-i Haqq (deuxième partie),” Revue du
Monde Musulman, vol. 44-45, 1921, p. 218 (n. 1).

244

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

through appropriate and correct actions, right words and pleasing
76
behavior.
According to this author, the preoccupation of representatives of the
khāndāns with this material aspect is the main reason for the destruction of
holiness in a khāndān. He uses a peculiar neologism to qualify this state:
khāndān-dārī (“holding a family”), which is used almost as a synonymous
with the familiar critical expression dokān-dārī (“religion-business”). Khāndān-dārī means being financially dependent on devotees, making the khāndān a lucrative business, being absorbed by the material side of the institution and/or wanting to please one’s followers in order to accumulate the
maximum number of devotees. As he explains, the person who has fallen
into khāndān-dārī gradually loses his spiritual impact, so that his khāndān
77
becomes empty of the divine spark.
Given this widely acknowledged contradiction between the role that
seyyeds were supposed to play and the reality of the situation in the midtwentieth century, Jeyhūnābādī’s son, N. A. Elāhī (1895–1974) writes about
78
the reciprocal duties between a seyyed and his followers:
1. The seyyed must perform the ceremony of initiation, and the followers
have the obligation to be initiated by a seyyed.
2. The seyyed must bless the offerings of the followers, and the followers
must have their offerings blessed by a seyyed.
3. The seyyed must accept the ritual taxes paid by the followers, and the followers must pay annually their ritual taxes to their pīr and dalīl.
4. The seyyed must have the affection and vigilance of a father toward his
followers, and the followers have the obligation to respect their seyyed and
to recognize him as their spiritual father.
5. If the seyyed is an authentic, truly informed scholar (kalām-khān-i vāqe’ī)
then he has the right to guide the followers with advice but not orders. The
followers must obey if they are guided according to the precepts of the
Kalām-i Perdivarī (the versified sayings of the Ahl-i Haqq founder and the
earlier saints).
6. Moreover, if besides being a seyyed and an informed scholar, the seyyed
has the rank of a theophany, then his sayings serve as an order. The follow76 Summarized translation of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī, Forqān al-Akhbār, manuscript A,
pp. 79-80.
77 Forqān al-Akhbār, manuscript A, pp. 105-109.
78 N. A. Elāhī, Borhān al-Haqq, pp. 470-471.

245

MOJAN MEMBRADO

ers must obey because everything such a person says is exactly in accordance with the sacred precepts of the Ahl-i Haqq order.
These excerpts reflect the fact that the attitude of the Ahl-i Haqq followers
in relation to their seyyeds has often been manifestly ambiguous: the
seyyeds are respected for their lineage, regardless of their own personality
and qualifications, but in some cases the seyyeds have received an absolute
obedience from followers who believed that they are inhabited by a divine
79
presence. This brings us to the recurrent and fundamental tension between
inherited ritual legitimacy and the charismatic qualities of the saint or holy
individual.
The angelology or broader phenomenology of spiritual manifestations
within traditional Ahl-i Haqq belief and hagiography includes an interesting
and elaborate typology of holiness and spiritual states, with different modes
80
of expression and degrees of intensity. The theophanic experience is conceived like a visitation, or even a sort of possession, by higher cosmic forces
and spiritual realities which reveal themselves in a particular chosen anthropomorphic form. In such cases, holiness or high spiritual rank has traditionally been appreciated by its manifest effects, such as charisma, true predictions, cures, blessings and the like: such impressive acts and words of the
81
holy figure are appreciated as convincingly miraculous. Historically, the
distinctive spiritual aura of such saintly persons has attracted crowds of
people around them.
Those high spiritual ranks of theophany have typically been achieved by
individuals who were detached from the material concerns of the world and
who had the strength to limit their needs in food, sleep and carnal instincts.
Some high-ranking companions of the founder of the Ahl-i Haqq order –
79 M. van Bruinessen, Satan’s Psalmists, p. 20. In some cases it might cause an interference of the religious power in the political sphere, for some examples see Soltānī,
Tārīkh-i khāndānhā-yi Haqīqat, pp. 43-45, 131-141, 162, 168-170.
80 See J. During, “Notes sur l'angélologie Ahl-i Haqq,” pp. 129-153.
81 See, for example, Gobineau, ibid., pp. 367-368: “…La thaumaturgie, le fait que le feu
n’a pas de puissance sur des pīrs de Sana, à Kermānshāh, est rapporté. La même
chose est pratiquée à l’égard de l’air, par ceux qui se jettent du haut des rochers sans
que la chute leur cause aucune douleur.” And Gobineau, ibid., p. 366: “Des objets ayant appartenu à des pīrs inspirent un grand respect. On en a obtenu des miracles à
différentes reprises. Mais autant que j’ai pu m’en assurer, les fidèles ne regardent
pas ces objets comme pouvant à eux seuls produire des effets contraires à l’ordre ordinaire de la nature; il faut encore que la puissance latente qui existe en eux soit
mise en mouvement par la sainteté de celui qui l’invoque.”

246

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

such as Pīr Benyāmīn, Yār Dāvūd, ‘Ālī Qalandar, Bābā Yādegār, as well as
some later high ranked Ahl-i Haqq figures – were all unmarried. Even
though the dates that these figures actually lived and the basic historical information about them are often unknown, still the traditional accounts spe cify that they were unmarried. Such accounts are an important part of the
82
Ahl-i Haqq hagiographical literature that is worth studying. Their historicity remains unverifiable, but what matters is less the objective reality of
those traditional accounts than the fact that the Ahl-i Haqq followers devoutly believe in them and continue to perpetuate them because they convey something important about their beliefs. We can learn from these ac counts that in the Ahl-i Haqq perspective, celibacy is positively valued as an
outward sign of a certain spiritual attainment, as in certain forms of Sufism,
but contrary to the wider Islamic trend where marriage is strongly recommended. From this perspective (or at least from one interpretation of these
hagiographic stories), having a high spiritual rank might in some cases even
appear incompatible with having a family. It is interesting to note that ac cording to the traditional accounts, at the foundation of the order the founding of khāndāns was entrusted not to the nearest companions of Sultān, who
were considered as the holiest people among the Ahl-i Haqq. Instead it was
principally delegated to the second, lower category of his companions, the
haftvāneh. This shows equally that, from the early stage of the Ahl-i Haqq
order, the lineage of the khāndāns did not reflect the very highest level of
holiness. We can more generally conclude that the reality of an individual’s
82 One of the main sources of Ahl-i Haqq hagiographical literature is Shāhnāmeh-yi
Haqīqat of H. N. Jeyhūnābādī written in 1919. Initially addressed solely to Ahl-i
Haqq readers, Shāhnāmeh-yi Haqīqat (“The book of the Kings of Truth”) or Haqq alHaqāyeq (“Truth of Truths”) is comprised of more than fifteen thousand verses of
Persian poetry dealing with the Ahl-i Haqq, the history of religions and the ranks
and states of the prophets and saints, as well as other influential personalities
throughout human history. It was eventually published in Iran in 1966 by M. Mokri,
who possessed an incomplete version copy of this manuscript. This first edition of
the Shāhnāmeh contains the edited text of the first four parts of the work, called respectively Ferdows, Rezvān, Khold and Janān (the four titles are the names of specific
‘gardens’ of paradise mentioned in the Qur’ān). The copy of the manuscript used by
Mokri was missing the entire fifth part, Na‘īm (another Qur’ānic paradise), and a
large number of verses from the fourth part. A second edition of Shāhnāmeh by
Mokri was reprinted in 1982, but no new element differentiates this edition from
that of 1966. Later on, in 1363/1984, a complete edition of the entire Shāhnāmeh was
published by Bahrām Elāhī the author’s grandson. This complete version includes
the previously missing fifth part and the excluded sections of the forth part. The
commentary by the author’s son on the Shāhnāmeh Haqīqat (N. A. Elāhī, Hāshīyeh
bar Haqq al-Haqāyeq, 1346/1967) was also included in this complete edition.

247

MOJAN MEMBRADO

deeper spiritual legitimacy has always been judged and appreciated independently of that person’s family status – i.e., whether or not they belong to
a khāndān lineage.
The Ahl-i Haqq khāndāns represent above all the function of guidance,
principally in its ritual dimension. As for the spiritual dimension of guidance, the Ahl-i Haqq initiate is urged by the sacred kalāms themselves to be
able to recognize the holy essences in any time, any place, and in any human “garment” in which they may manifest themselves, whether inside or
outside of a khāndān, in a seyyed or in a commoner. Historically, many important Ahl-i Haqq holy figures were not the descendants of an established
khāndān. For example, this would include such key Ahl-i Haqq charismatic
83
leaders as Teymour (1830–1851), H. N. Jeyhūnābādī (1871–1920), or the
originally Sunni Īl Bagī (d. 1554), a member of the Jāf tribe who after his
spiritual illumination (tajallī) recited some famous sayings (kalāms) that are
84
still revered among the Ahl-i Haqq.
The difference between an Ahl-i Haqq spiritual authority who is not a
83 Teymour of Bānyārān (1830–1851), born in the village of Bānyārān in the province
of Kermānshāh, was a disciple of Seyyed Heydar of Gūrān, known as Seyyed
Barākeh (Berāka) (d. 1290/1873). After Teymour’s spiritual awakening, his charisma
and his miracles attracted between 50,000 and 60,000 people belonging to the tribes
of his region and beyond. He was at the head of a religious movement that was
viewed as a revolt by the central government and the Qajar historians. Since he was
contemporary with ‘Ālī Mohammad Bāb (1819–1850) whose widespread movement
throughout Iran resulted in bloody massacres and finally in the killing of the Bāb in
1850, the central Qajar government was also very much opposed to the popular
movement surrounding Teymur. He was executed by the governor of Kermānshāh
in 1851. See Vladimir Minorsky, “Etudes sur les Ahl-i Haqq (I-Toumari = Ahl-i
Haqq),” Revue de l'Histoire des Religions, vol. 97, 1928, p. 96. See also Lisān al-Molk
Sepehr, Mirza Mohammad Taqī, Nāsekh al-Tawārīkh, Tehran, Ketāb forūshī-yi
eslāmīyeh, 1354/1975, vol. 4, pp. 29-30.
84 On the key Islamic theological and metaphysical notion of divine tajallī (“Self-manifestation”) in general, see Henry Corbin, En Islam iranien, Paris, Gallimard, 1972, vol.
III, p. 345. For the particular understanding of tajallī most widespread in the Ahl-i
Haqq context, see the following observation by Jean During, from “Ahl-e haqq,
Hiérarchie cosmique et typologie spirituelle,” http://www.crem-cnrs.fr/membres/
j_during_1998_cosmologie.pdf “ […] alors que dans le soufisme conventionnel la
transmission est plutôt envisagée comme un laborieux processus de formation nécessitant un contact personnel assidu, dans ce système, les hautes personnalités
spirituelles sont déjà (virtuellement du moins) ce qu’elles sont de par leur essence, et
il leur suffit de prendre conscience d’elles-mêmes. La tradition rapporte de nombreux cas où un homme inconscient ou illettré, voire même opposant, à la faveur
d’un choc ou d’un incident, devient d’un seul coup illuminé par sa propre essence,
laquelle est aussitôt identifiée comme celle de tel ou tel archange, et annoncée par
des signes probants.”

248

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

descendant of a khāndān and a descendant of a khāndān (seyyed, pīr) is that
the seyyed has the immediate legitimacy to bless the offerings, to perform
the ceremony of initiation and to collect religious taxes; while others, even
if they are widely considered as holy, do not have this ritual legitimacy a
priori. This situation highlights the apparent distinction between two types
of authority: ritual and spiritual. It also well illustrates different zones of in fluence in the Ahl-i Haqq context – and beyond – as well as the potential
conflicts that those different types of influence might create. For example,
Teymūr II (d. 1870), a famous Ahl-i Haqq dīdeh-dār (a spiritually illuminated
person widely considered as a saintly figure), was a contemporary of Seyyed
Ahmad II of the traditional Shāh Hayāsī khāndān (nineteenth century, Jeyhūnābād), and they were not on good terms with each other. Also, Seyyed
‘Abd al-Hamīd from the Shāh Hayāsī khāndān, who was a contemporary of
the charismatic Ahl-i Haqq leader H. N. Jeyhūnābādī (d. 1920), likewise had
a conflicting relationship with the latter.

Conclusion
According to the hagiographic traditions of the Ahl-i Haqq, the different
khāndāns derive their legitimacy from their sanctification by a particular
saintly figure. But they have become real and significant institutions, enduring through centuries, due to their role in determining the social structure
and to their essential ritual functions within the Ahl-i Haqq communities.
The needs the khāndāns are committed to answer are above all in relation to the ritual aspect of religious life. The members of these families are
the only persons authorized to perform the central Ahl-i Haqq rituals, especially blessing the offerings and conducting the ceremony of initiation
which is the most important Ahl-i Haqq ritual. In addition, some of seyyeds
have knowledge of the sacred Ahl-i Haqq corpus of the kalāms which were
transmitted orally and have therefore been inaccessible to laymen (as well
as all outsiders) before their publication in the later twentieth century.
The religious authority of the khāndāns is traditionally transmitted according to a patrilineal model, by heredity from male descendants to male
descendants.
Beside the khāndāns, another type of authority exists in the Ahl-i Haqq
context – historically visible in a number of past and more recent contexts –
85
involving the sainthood and holiness of particular charismatic individuals.
85 Beside the saintly figures cited in connection with the origination of the khāndāns,
a few other charismatic individuals are the originally Sunni Īl Bagī (d. 1554); Sheykh

249

MOJAN MEMBRADO

Holiness is independent from the wider family status, being directly related
instead to the extraordinary spiritual rank of the individual and the signs of
his or her charisma. There are and have been among the Ahl-i Haqq such
extraordinary persons who do not descend from a particular khāndān, and
yet who are widely considered as holy. Contrary to the formal religious authority transferred within the patrilineal system of the khāndāns, such unusual spiritual legitimacy is not transferable by heredity. More precisely,
what is transmitted through heredity in the khāndān lineages is the sanctification associated with those eponymous saintly figures who had the spiritual legitimacy necessary to sanctify. The coexistence of these two very different types of authority – of inherited ritual competence, and of inspired
spiritual legitimacy – has often created tensions in various Ahl-i Haqq contexts.
During the recent modern era, and in parallel to many other areas of the
Muslim world, the Ahl-i Haqq communities have undergone a wide range of
radical and rapid transformations. Some groups have responded positively
to the demands of modernity by integrating measures helping them to adapt
to this new context. For example, the measures announced by the saintly
feminine figure of Malek Jān Ne‘matī in 1990–92 from her Kurdish village of
Jeyhūnābād (see above) demonstrate this in striking fashion, highlighting
the ways that charismatic spiritual authority can sometimes serve to bring
about rapid changes to traditional social forms and customs. These measures, widely accepted in her immediate entourage, introduced and formalized a new place for women in an environment where traditionally they had
not possessed many rights and prerogatives. By updating certain traditional
rites and practices of the Ahl-i Haqq, they were effective against dogmatism
and fanaticism and introduced a radical change in both attitudes and practices among many families in her area and beyond. At the same time, traditional attitudes and practices continued to prevail among other Ahl-i Haqq
branches, although even there the necessity of some measures of reform and
modernization could not be ignored, especially given the wider transformations Iran has undergone in recent decades.

Amīr (d. 1125/1713) a shepard from the Zūleh tribe who is considered to be the incarnation of Gabriel; Teymūr (1830–1851); H. N. Jeyhūnābādī (1871–1920); etc.

250

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

Bibliography
Primary sources
Afshār, J., Borhān al-Haqīqat, n. pl., 1356/1977.
Id., Dīvān-i Qoshchī Oqlī, n. pl., 1343/1964.
Afzalī Shāh Ebrāhīmī, S. Q., Daftar-i Rumūz-i Yārestān, Tehran, Rāstī, n.d.
Alqāsī, M., Ā‘īn-i Yārī, Tehran, n. pl., 1358/1979.
Id., Andarz-e Yārī, n.pl., 1359/1980.
Elāhī, Nūr ‘Alī, Borhān al-Haqq, 3rd ed., Tehran, 1354/1975.
Elāhī, Ostād, Knowing the Spirit , James Winston Morris (trans.), Albany, State
University of New York Press, 2007.
Ivanow, Vladimir A., Majmū‘e Rasā’el va Ash‘ār-i Ahl-i Haqq, Bombay, The
Ismā‘īlī Society, 1950.
Jeyhūnābādī, H. N., Shāhnāmeh-yi Haqīqat, Haqq al-Haqāyeq, Tehran, Hoseynī,
1363/1984.
Id., Forqān al-Akhbār, Jeyhūnābād, 1909. unpublished manuscript, copies A and
B. Ed. by Mojan Membrado as “Forqān al-Akhbar de Hājj Ne‘matollāh
Jeyhūnābādi (1871-1920), écrit doctrinal Ahl-i Haqq, édition critique, étude
et commentaire,” Ph.D. dissertation, Paris, École Pratique des Hautes
Etudes, 2007.
Nīknejād, S. K., Kalāmāt-i Torkī, n. pl., n. d.

Studies
Algar, Hamid, James Morris, Jean During, “Elāhī, Ḥājj Nūr ‘Alī,” in Enc. Iranica,
VIII, fasc. 3, pp. 297-301.
Anvar, Leili, Malek Jān Ne‘matī, Paris, Diane de Selliers, 2007.
Beīk Bāghbān, H., Religion de Vérité – Enquête de Sociologie religieuse chez les
Ahl-é-Hakk d'Iran, Ph.D. thesis, Université de Strasbourg, 1975.
Corbin, Henry, En Islam iranien, Paris, Gallimard, 1972, vol. III.
Dāyerat al-Ma‘ārif-i Tashayyo‘, Tehran, Nashr-i Shahīd Muhibbī, 1990.
During, Jean, “A critical survey on Ahl-e Haqq studies in Europe and Iran,” in
Tord Olsson, Elisabeth Özdalga and Catharina Raudvere, eds., Alevi
identity: cultural, religious and social perspectives, Richmond, Curzon Press,
1998, pp. 105-126.
Id., “Notes sur l'angélologie Ahl-i haqq,” in Gilles Veinstein, ed., Syncrétisme
et hérésie dans l’Orient seljoukide et ottoman, Paris, Peeters, 2005, pp. 129151.

251

MOJAN MEMBRADO

Edmonds, Cecil J., “The Beliefs and Practices of the Ahl-i-Haqq of Iraq,” Iran –
Journal of the British Institute of Persian Studies, 7, 1969, pp. 89-101.
Gobineau, Joseph Arthur de, Trois ans en Asie (de 1855 à 1858), Paris, Hachette,
1859.
Hamzeh’ee, M. Reza, The Yaresan: A sociological, historical and religio-historical
study of a Kurdish community, Berlin, Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 1990.
Id., “Structural and Organizational analogies between Mazdeism and Sufism and
the Kurdish religions,” in Philippe Gignoux, ed., Recurrent patterns in
Iranian Religions from Mazdaism to Sufism, Paris, Peeters-Cahiers de Studia
Iranica 11, 1992, pp. 29-35.
James, Boris, “Une ethnographie succincte de ‘l’entre-deux kurde’ au Moyen
Âge,” Études Rurales, 186, 2010, pp. 21-42.
Kordestani, Saeed Khan, “The sect of Ahl-i Haqq (Ali ilahis),” The Moslem World,
17, 1927, pp. 31-42.
Kreyenbroek, Philip, “On the study of some heterodox sects in Kurdistan,” Les
Annales de l’Autre Islam, 5, 1989, pp. 163-184.
Lisān al-Molk Sepehr, Mīrzā Mohammad Taqī, Nāsekh al-Tawārīkh, Tehran,
Ketāb forūshī-yi eslāmīyeh, 1354/1975, vol. 4.
Membrado, Mojan, “Jeyhūnābādī, Hājj Ne‘mat-Allāh Mokri,” Enc. Iranica, XIV,
fasc. 6, pp. 641-643.
Id., “The literary production of the Ahl-i Haqq in the modern era,” in Rachida
Chih, Denis Gril, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Rüdiger Seesemann, eds.,
Sufism, Literary Production and Printing in the Nineteenth Century,
Würzburg, Ergon Verlag, forthcoming.
Minorsky, Vladimir, “Notes sur la secte des Ahl-i Haqq,” Revue du Monde
Musulman, volumes 40-41, 1920, pp. 19-98.
Id., “Notes sur la secte des Ahl-i Haqq (deuxième partie),” Revue du Monde
Musulman, volumes 44-45, 1921, pp. 205-302.
Id., “Etudes sur les Ahl-i Haqq (I-Toumari = Ahl-i Haqq),” Revue de l'Histoire des
Religions, vol. 97, 1928, pp. 90-105.
Id., “Sultān Ishāq,” Enc. Islam 1, IV, p. 572.
Modarresī Chahārdehī, N., Khāksār va Ahl-i Haqq, Tehran, Eshrāqī, 1358/1979.
Mokri, Mohammad, “Le ‘secret indicible’ et la ‘pierre noire’,” Journal Asiatique,
250/3, 1962, pp. 369-433.
Id., “Notes sur la généalogie des fondateurs de la secte des Fidèles de Vérité
(Ahl-i Haqq) d’après un manuscrit inédit de source sunnite,” Journal
Asiatique, 282, 1994, pp. 37-110.
Moosa, Matti, Extremist Shiites: The Ghulat Sects, Syracuse, Syracuse University
Press, 1988.
Oberling, Pierre, “Gurān,” Enc. Iranica, online edition.

252

AHL-I HAQQ CONSECRATED FAMILIES

Soltānī, Mohammad ‘Alī, Tārīkh-i khāndānhā-yi Haqīqat va Mashāhīr-i
Mote'akhkhir-i Ahl-e Haqq dar Kermānshāh (2nd ed), Tehran, Sohā,
1381/2002.
Id., Īlāt va Tavāyef-i Kermānshāhān, Tehran, Movaffaq, 1372/1993.
Stead, F. M. “The Ali Ilahi sect in Persia,” The Moslem World, vol. 22, 1932, pp.
184-189.
Trimingham, John S., The Sufi Orders in Islam, Oxford, Oxford University Press,
1971.
Wilson, Samuel Graham, Persian Life and Customs, New York, AMS Press Inc.,
[1895] 1973.

253

ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī (d. 465/1072)

Family Ties and Transmission in Nishapur’s Sufi Milieu
during the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries

Francesco Chiabotti

Initiatic Transmission and Family Ties
Family and Sufism in Medieval Iran
As early as the formative period of Sufism, family ties played significant
roles in the transmission and diffusion of the doctrinal heritage of a founding master. The progressive creation of learning centres that developed
around this key figure gave rise in certain cases to transmission lines and to
the management of a master’s material and spiritual heritage. Family lineage, scholarly training, and spiritual investiture were combined according to
different temporal and spatial modalities. Sahl b. ʿAbd Allāh al-Tustarī (d.
283/896) was thus initiated by his maternal uncle, Muhammad b. Sawwār,
1
one of his hadith teachers, into a particular formula of dhikr. Another example is Abū al-Hawārī, father of Ahmad (d. 230/845 or 244/860) and Muhammad b. Abī al-Hawārī, who fathered ʿAbd Allāh al-Hawārī. Sulamī (d.
937/1021) defined this family as “a household (bayt) of scruples and asceti2
3
cism.” Amongst Junayd’s seventeen masters, the following generations
would recognise his maternal uncle, Sarī al-Saqatī (d. 253/867), as the initiatic
4
5
link in his path. A disciple of Junayd, Abū Bakr al-Wāsitī, founded in Merv
1

2
3
4

5

Allāhu maʿī, Allāhu nāzir ilayya, Allāhu shāhid ʿalayya. Qushayrī, al-Risāla al-qushayriyya, ed. ʿAbd al-Halīm Mahmūd, Damascus, Dār al-Fikr, 2003, p. 56; Das Sendschreiben al-Qušayris über das Sufitum. Eingeleitet, übersetzt und kommentiert, transl.
by Richard Gramlich, Freiburger Islamstudien vol. 12, Stuttgart, Franz Steiner Verlag, 1989, p. 53; Al-Qushayri’s Epistle on Sufism, transl. by Alexander D. Knysh, Reading, Garret Publishing, 2007, p. 34. All English translations of the Risāla quoted in
this article are taken from Knysh’s Epistle. Gerhard Böwering, The mystical vision of
existence in classical Islam. The Qurʾanic hermeneutics of the Sufi Sahl at-Tustarī (d.
283/896), Berlin, De Gruyter, 1980; Sahl b. ʿAbd Allāh al-Tustarī, Great Commentaries
on the Holy Qur’ān, transl. by Annabel Keeler & Ali Keeler, Louisville, Fons Vitae, 2009.
Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya, ed. Mustafā ʿAtā, Beirut, Dār alKutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2003, p. 91.
Roger Deladrière, Junayd, Enseignement spirituel, Paris, Sinbad 1983, p. 23.
Qushayrī, Risāla, p. 449; Gramlich, Sendschreiben, p. 408; al-Subkī, Tāj al-Dīn ʿAbd alWahhāb b. ʿAlī, Tabaqāt al-shāfiʿiyya al-kubrā, ed. Mahmūd Muhammad al-Tanāhī
and ʿAbd al-Fattāh Muhammad al-Hulw, 10 vols., Cairo, ʿĪsā al-Bābī al-Halabī, 1965,
V, p. 157.
See Laury Silvers, A Soaring Minaret: Abu Bakr Al-Wasiti and the Rise of Baghdadi

255

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

a learning centre, which was administered after his death by the Sayyārī
6
family. Hujwīrī (d. between 465/1073 and 469/1077), who met the Sayyārī at
Merv, highlighted the fact that this school was “the only one that has kept
7
its original doctrine unchanged.” The Sayyārī family had thus become and
would long remain an important Sufi household in which women played an
important role. For example, in Merv, Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī met
ʿĀʾisha bt. Ahmad al-Tawīl, ʿAbd al-Wāhid al-Sayyārī’s wife, and recounted
8
the latter's charitable activities and the extent of her knowledge. Sulamī had
been initiated into Sufism by his grandfather Ismāʿīl Abū ʿAmr b. Nujayd (d.
366/976) and had also received from the latter an important collection of
Sufi texts. This library would become one of the most visited places in Nis9
hapur's spiritual circles. At Kāzarūn, Abū Ishāq al-Kāzarūnī’s descendants
10
(d. 963/1033) managed the spiritual centre linked to their ancestor. Fritz
Meier also notes that Master Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayr’s (d. 440/1049) closest
circle was constituted by his family. His eldest son, Abū Tāhir, inherited the
11
management of the Meyhana khānaqāh. Hujwīrī, who met Qushayrī,
wrote in the Kashf al-Mahjūb a short chapter on the authorities of his time,
organising them geographically. It was not uncommon for sons of masters
Sufism, Albany, State University of New York Press, 2010.
Fritz Meier, Abū Saʿīd-i Abū l-Khayr (357-440/967-1049). Wirklichkeit und Legende,
Acta Iranica 11-Third Series, Tehran-Liege, Pahlavi National Library, 1976, p. 443.
7 Reynold A. Nicholson, Kashf al-Mahjūb of al-Hujwīrī. The Oldest Persian Treatise on
Sufism, London, Gibb Memorial Trust, 1976, p. 251.
8 Al-Sulamī, Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān, Dhikr al-niswat al-mutaʿabbidāt al-sūfīyāt, ed.
Mustafā ʿAtā, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2003, pp. 424-425.
9 Jean-Jacques Thibon, L’œuvre d’Abū ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī (325/937-412/1021) et
la formation du Soufisme, Damascus, Institut Français du Proche-Orient, 2009, pp.
100-102.
10 F. Meier, Abū Saʿīd-i Abū l-Khayr, p. 442. Bruce Lawrence, “Abū Eshāq kāzarūnī,”
Enc. Iranica, online edition. See Īraj Afshār, “Ferdaws al-moršedīya fī asrār alSamadīya,” Enc. Iranica, online edition for a complete bibliography; Hamid Algar,
“Kāzarūnī,” Enc. Islam 2, IV, p. 851; Denise Aigle, “Un fondateur d’ordre en milieu
rural. Le Cheikh Abū Ishāq de Kāzarūn,” in id., ed., Saints Orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 181-209; Fritz Meier, Die Vita des Scheich Abū Ishāq al-Kāzarūnī in der
Persischen Bearbeitung von Mahmūd b. ʿUṯmān, Leipzig, Brockhaus, 1948.
11 F. Meier, Abū Sa‘īd-i Abū l-Khayr, pp. 384-402, chapter “Der innerste Anhängerkreis
Abū Saʿīds: seine Familie.” Also see chapter “Die Marabutfamilie,” pp. 438-467. On
Abū Saʿīd’s progeny, see E. Monawwar, Les étapes mystiques du shaykh Abu Sa’id,
transl. by Mohammad Achena, Paris, Desclée de Brouwer, 1974, pp. 341-342; E. Monavvar, The secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness or the Spiritual Stations of shaykh Abu
Sa’id, transl. with notes and introduction by John O’Kane, Costa Mesa Mazda Publishers, 1992, pp. 526-527. All English renderings of the Asrār are taken from
O’Kane’s translation.
6

256

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

to later succeed them: “Abū l-Fath b. Sāliba is an excellent and hopeful suc cessor to his father,” Ahmad, son of shaykh Abū l-Hasan al-Kharaqānī
12
(d. 963/1033), “was an excellent successor to his father,” Khwāja Rashīd
Muzaffar, son of Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayr “will, it may be hoped, become an
example to all Sufis and a point to which their hearts will turn,” Shaykh Abū
13
l-Hasan ʿAlī b. Abī ʿAlī al-Aswad “was an excellent successor to his father.”
Though the role of the family was certainly not limited to that of a
14
“transmitter,” this far from exhaustive list of cases in which family lineage
was involved with the transmission of the Path seems nevertheless to map
out an Iranian context, notably a Khorasanic one, in which scientific families transmitted a rich and varied heritage and assumed doctrinal and initiatic responsibilities.

Around the Qushayrīs
A characteristic family in this milieu and for whom we are particularly well
documented, is that of the Nishapurian master, ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī
15
(d. 465/1072). A major portion of his fame is due in part to the remarkable
relationships he established with his children and grandchildren, who all
12 Christiane Tortel, Paroles d’un soufi. Abû’l-Hasan Kharaqânî (352-425/960-1033),
Paris, Seuil, 1998.
13 Hujwīrī, Kashf al-mahjūb (Nicholson’s trans.), pp. 173-175.
14 The other functions a family can fulfill in the life of a Saint also need to be studied:
obstacle to be overcome in order to consecrate oneself to God (as in the case of
Ibrāhīm b. Adham, son of a prince from Khorasan; Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayr’s father
prevented him from praying at night, see E. Monawwar, Etapes mystiques, p. 46); the
family as place to display parental love (devotion to the mother is a recurring topos
in the lives of saints, see the prayers of Sulamī’s mother to her son in Thibon,
L’œuvre de Sulamī, p. 94); the family as a test in the choice between obeying the
Master and disobeying one's parents (Muhammad Abū al-Hasan al-ʿAlawī divided
between a family meal and the Master's orders to stay by his side for the night, see
Qushayrī, Sharh asmāʾ Allāh al-husnā, ed. ʿAbd al-Salām al-Halawānī, Cairo, 1969, p.
275). These aspects require further research and a separate study.
15 The most recent and exhaustive study on Qushayrī is Martin Tran Nguyen’s, Sufi
Master and Qur’an Scholar Abū’l-Qasim al-Qushayrī and the Latāʾif al-Ishārāt, OUP
in association with the Institute of Ismaili Studies Qur’anic Studies Series, 2012. In
this article, we are quoting Mr. Nguyen’s doctoral thesis, The Confluence and Construction of Traditions: Al-Qushayrī (d. 465/1072) and the Intersection of Qurʾānic Exegesis, Theology, and Sufism, Ph.D. Dissertation, Harvard University, 2009. For a detailed analysis of Qushayrī’s biographical sources, see M. Nguyen, The Confluence,
pp. 409-415. The following pages are based on Nguyen’s biographical chapter, The
Confluence, p. 23 ff. On Qushayrī, see also the collective volume edited by Martin
Nguyen and Matthew Ingalls, Journal of Sufi Studies, 2/1, 2013, Special Issue: AlQushayrī and His Legacy.

257

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

studied hadith under him and were his Sufi disciples to varying degrees. The
role of family ties and genealogy in medieval Nishapur is illustrated by
Richard Bulliet in his classic study of patrician families in the Khorasan cap16
ital. The development and the transmission of Sufism, in the case of the
Qushayrīs, are indeed tied, as we will see, to the general context of the patriciate described by Bulliet.
To retrace this family’s story, we have a collection of sources that are
contemporary to Qushayrī and testimonials from those who met his children and grandchildren. Contrary to a strictly hagiographic account, the life
of the Qushayrīs can also be approached through other textual typologies.
As a muhaddith, a Shāfiʿī legal scholar; an exegete; a grammarian; a poet; a
spiritual master; and one of Nishapur's notable patricians, Qushayrī appears
in separate entries in different types of biographical dictionaries and historical texts. The most ancient portion of this corpus is the Siyāq li-taʾrīkh
Naysābūr, directly written by his grandson, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir al-Fārisī, son of
his daughter Karīma Amat al-Rahīm, who took the initiative to complete the
history of Nishapur (K. ahwāl-i Nīshābūr) written by al-Hakīm al-Naysābūrī
17
(d. 405/1014). Another key author of our sources is Abū Saʿd al-Samʿānī (d.
18
562/1166). During his trips to Khorasan, he met Abū l-Muzaffar al-Qushayrī (d. 532/1138), Qushayrī’s last surviving child at the time, as well as
Qushayrī’s grandchildren and great grandchildren, who were some of his
16 R. W. Bulliet, The Patricians of Nishapur: A Study in Medieval Islamic Social History,
Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1972.
17 Facsimile reproductions of both texts were published in The Histories of Nishapur, ed.
Richard Nelson Frye, Harvard Oriental Series vol. 45, The Hague, Mouton & Co.,
1965. See Wilferd Madelung’s review in the Journal of Near Eastern Studies, 27/2,
1968, pp. 155-157. Bulliet’s analysis (The Patricians) is almost entirely based on the
Siyāq and constitutes our main access to this manuscript, alongside the recent edition of the text by Muhammad Kāzim Mahmūdī. The Siyāq has also been summarized in Sarīfīnī’s Muntakhab min siyāq li-tarīkh Naysāpūr (Ibrāhīm b. Muhammad alSarīfīnī, Muntakhab min kitāb al-siyāq li-taʾrīkh Nīsābūr, ed. Muhammad Ahmad
ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1996). It is also quoted by Ibn ʿAsākir
in his Tabyīn kadhib al-muftarī. Ibn ʿAsākir received written authorisation to distribute the Siyāq. Ibn ʿAsākir, ʿAlī b. al-Hasan, Tabyīn kadhib al-muftarī fī-mā nusiba ilā
l-imām Abī l-Hasan al-Ashʿarī, ed. Muhammad Zāhid b. al-Hasan al-Kawtharī, Damascus, Dār al-Fikr, 1979. Several centuries later, Tāj al-Dīn al-Subkī would use large
portions of the Siyāq in his Tabaqāt dedicated to the history of Shāfiʿīsm. The text of
the Siyāq was finally edited and published in 2005 in Iran: ʿAbd al-Ghāfir al-Fārisī,
Abū l-Hasan, Mukhtasar min kitāb al-siyāq li-taʾrīkh Naysābūr, ed. Muhammad
Kāzim al-Mahmūdī, Tehran, Mīrāth Maktūb, 2005. As the editor pointed out, the
manuscript published by Frye is only an abridged version of the original text.
18 R. Sellheim, “al-Samʿānī, Abū Saʿd (incorrectly Saʿīd) ʿAbd al-Karīm,” Enc. Islam 2,
VIII, p. 1024.

258

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

hadith transmitters. He mentions them notably in his writings about his
masters. In the Ansāb, he says he received Qushayrī’s hadiths from fifteen
different people and the hadiths of Qushayrī’s children from a large number
19
of transmitters. Samʿānī defines the Qushayrī as a family or household
20
(bayt) of science, hadith, and Sufism. Ibn ʿAsākir (d. 571/1176) who, like
Samʿānī, travelled to Khorasan, also wrote about the lives of Qushayrī’s children and met eminent members of his descendants. Alongside this non-exhaustive list of direct testimonies quoted in the texts, there also exists manuscripts written by his descendants (a sort of consciously constituted textual
heritage), which Qushayrī certified as being the audition (samāʿ) of one or
several of his works or of his transmitted hadiths. For example, Abū Nasr,
one of his sons, is the author of an unpublished collection of his father’s
memoirs. These manuscripts, especially the isnād of their transmission, confirm our sources: Qushayrī trained and educated his children personally;
they attended his hadith classes, followed his spiritual teachings, and spread
his doctrine to their contemporaries.
One of the main approaches of our study is to establish the link between
the bio-hagiographic literature of the tabaqāt and this textual corpus handed
down by Qushayrī’s descendants. Within the scope of this article, an exhaustive biography of ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī would not be possible.
Rather, we will present here only those passages of his life that are exem plary illustrations of his relationship with his master and father-in-law, Abū
ʿAlī al-Daqqāq, and the intellectual and spiritual education of his children.
By doing so, we will gain better insight into the stakes of spiritual and doctrinal transmission at the heart of this family.

The Origins of the Qushayrīs in the Transmission
of ʿAbd al-Ghāfir
The history of the Qushayrīs spans two centuries before ending after
601/1203-1204 with the destruction of the city by the Mongols. It starts however long before, when the Khorasan was conquered by Yemeni troupes of
Banū Qushayr during the Umayyad period. This is how ʿAbd al-Ghāfir,
Qushayrī's grandson, begins the tale of his ancestor’s life in his Siyāq litaʾrīkh Naysābūr:
19 Al-Samʿānī, Abū Saʿd ʿAbd al-Karīm b. al-Samʿānī, al-Ansāb, ed. ʿAbd Allāh ʿUmar alBārūdī, 5 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Fikr, 1998, IV, p. 501.
20 Samʿānī, al-Tahbīr fī l-muʿjam al-kabīr, ed. Munīra Nājī Sālim, 2 vols., Baghdad, 1975,
I, p. 51.

259

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

He was born in the province of Ustawā, a descendant of the Arabs
who settled in Khorasan and established themselves in the surrounding countryside. By his father, he descended from the Banū
21
Qushayr and by his mother, from the Banū Sulamī.
The Banū Qushayr were one of the Yemenite tribes who settled in Khorasan
22
during the Umayyad period, during which time they enjoyed remarkable
23
prosperity. Several Qushayrīs were governors of the region. Samʿānī, in his
Ansāb, mentions his most illustrious Nishapurian ancestor: Abū l-Husayn b.
al-Hujjāj b. Muslim al-Qushayrī al-Naysābūrī, author of the Sahīh. Claude
Cahen states that Arab colonisation achieved its most complex and surely
its most intensive heights in Khorasan, given the role of the region in the
ʿAbbasid revolution. Mixed marriages between people of Iranian and Arab
ancestry even led to the development of a language with Persian inflec24
tions. Furthermore, the tribal character of Arab penetration into Khorasan
resulted in a slow and gradual assimilation of Arabs into Iranian family
lines.
This testimony by Qushayrī’s grandson, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir, underlines his
grandfather’s dual ancestry (Qushayrī and Sulamī), demonstrating that during the eleventh century and in Iranian circles, tribal, Arab genealogy was
still as important as ever. Zoltan Szombathy describes the attachment of medieval Muslim societies to genealogy thusly, “a symbolic if firmly accepted
mode of discourse as it is, does not generate but rather expresses prestige or
25
status. It is a symbol, and not a cause, of prestige.” By naming these two
tribes, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir is implicitly referring to the fact that Qushayrī united
in his person the ancient and mythical alliance, that of the eponymous an21 Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 57/b; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 229; Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 272.
22 For an overview on this period, see Parvaneh Pourshariati, “Local histories of
Khurasan and the pattern of Arab settlement,” Studia Iranica, 27, 1998, pp. 41-81.
The role of genealogy in our sources is described as follow by Pourshariati (op. cit.,
pp. 48-49) : “In medieval period Nīshābūr and Bayhaq [...] were major centres of Islamic learning [...]. Their local histories were meant to reflect their contemporary
(i.e. Islamic) achievements. But equally significant for local histories/biographical
dictionaries was their ability to establish their localities’ participation in early Islam.
As we will see, from the hindsight of biographical dictionaries, the establishment of
Arabic communities in their territories assumed a sacred attribute.”
23 G. Levi Della Vida, “Kushāyr,” Enc. Islam 2, V, p. 526.
24 Claude Cahen, “Tribes, Cities and Social Organization,” in Richard N. Frye, ed., The
Cambridge History of Iran, Volume 4: The Period from the Arab Invasion to the Saljuqs,
4 vols., Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1968, IV, pp. 306-307.
25 Zoltán Szombathy, “Genealogy in Medieval Muslim Societies,” Studia Islamica, 95,
2002, p. 12.

260

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

cestor of the Banū Qushayrī, Qushayr b. Kaʿb b. Rabīʿa b. ʿĀmir b. Saʿsaʿa,
whose mother, Rayta bt. Qunfudh b. Mālik, descended, according to tradi26
tion, from the Banū Sulaym tribe. This alliance would be re-established –
this time in terms of spiritual filiations – when Qushayrī, after the death of
his first master, Daqqāq, studied under Master Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, who descended from the Banū Sulaym.
His maternal uncle was Abū ʿAqīl al-Sulamī, [one of Ustawā’s
major land owners (dahāqīn)]. His father passed away when
Qushayrī was still a child. God, through His grace, looked after
him (tawallāhu); he went to Abū l-Qāsim al-Alaymānī to learn lit27
erature and the Arabic language [...].
Orphaned, Qushayrī found himself managing his family’s interests at an
early age. The family’s wealth was undoubtedly consequential in that Qushayrī did not have to learn a profession or work immediately and could af ford to study. The family’s wealth was most probably land based. Later, we
will see that it was the need to settle fiscal tax issues that led him to travel
to Nishapur. His uncle Abū ʿAqīl al-Sulamī (d. 414/1023-4) probably took
over his education and Qushayrī learned the hadith with him. Family ties
between the Qushayrīs and the Sulamīs would later be reaffirmed through
the marriage of one of Qushayrī’s cousins – Abū ʿAmr ʿAbd al-Wahhāb (d.
470/1077-8), son of Abū ʿAqīl, and Qushayrī’s own daughter, Karīma al28
Kubrā.
The term dahāqīn (sing. dihqān) used here illustrates once again the fusion of Arab families into a Persian feudal structure. A dihqān was an important land owner during the Sassanid era. After the Arab conquest, the
29
dahāqīn retained responsibility for local administration and tax collecting.
Even though Ann Lambton suggests this title might designate little more
30
than a general agricultural class; Richard Bulliet supports the definition of
31
powerful, active land owners capable of administering the countryside.
Hujwīrī’s use of this term in the Kashf al-mahjūb proves there were connec26
27
28
29
30
31

G. Levi Della Vida, op. cit.
Fārisī, Mukhtasar, pp. 229-230. The sentence between brackets is from Ibn ʿAsākir,
Tabyīn, p. 272.
Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 388.
Ann K.S. Lambton, “Dihqan,” Enc. Islam 2, II, p. 253.
Ann K.S. Lambton, Landlord and Peasant in Persia, London, Oxford University Press,
1969, pp. 3-4, n. 3. See M. Nguyen, The Confluence, p. 38.
Bulliet, The Patricians of Nishapur, p. 22.

261

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

tions (despite Hujwīrī’s criticism) between the dihqān and Sufi world during
32
the Qushayrī period. Martin Nguyen has offered an explanation of how
this title, of Persian origin, might have integrated the Qushayrī family lin33
eage. The most plausible explanation remains that of mixed marriages. The
Tabyīn of Ibn ʿAsākir offers information on another aspect that confirms
Qushayrī’s education as a dihqān. ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī had acquired
34
an unrivalled mastery of equestrian arts and the wielding of arms. The
Arab murūʾa mingled with the rural forms of Iranian futuwwa.
The social and economic context of the Qushayrī family, as well as the
death of the father, form a group of elements that allow for a better understanding of Qushayrī’s arrival in Nishapur and his meeting with his future
father-in-law, Master Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq. Despite certain differences in the
recounting of facts, our biographic sources all agree on the fact that Qushayrī arrived in Nishapur before 395/1004 with the goal of solving tax issues
(kharāj) that weighed upon all land owners. According to earlier sources, he
was probably a land owner himself. Bulliet confirmed that Qushayrī, at least
towards the end of his life, owned farm lands, which he shared with other
35
notables in Nishapur. Bulliet underlined the fact that “families that have
survived in the historical record because of their religious or cultural dis36
tinction frequently can be traced to a rural origin.” The Qushayrīs fit this
social typology. A later hagiographic source, the Asrār al-tawhīd fī maqāmāt al-shaykh Abī Saʿīd, might be able to confirm this eventuality. In one
episode, the Shaykh Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayr reproaches Qushayrī his at37
tachment to one of his mills and his management of endowment revenues.
32 “I have suffered when travelling none was worse than to be carried off after time by
ignorant servants and impudent dervishes of this sort and conducted from the house
of such and such a Khawaja to the house of such and such a dihqān.” Hujwīrī, Kashf
al-mahjūb, transl. Nicholson, p. 343.
33 Nguyen, The Confluence, pp. 28-29.
34 wa-kāna fī ʿilm al-furūsīya wa istiʿmāl al-silāh wa mā yataʿallaqu bihi min afrād alʿasr, Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 273. See Nguyen, The Confluence, pp. 32-33.
35 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 151, n. 4.
36 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 11.
37 “Ostād Imam [Qushayrī] replied: ‘These endowments are in my hands but not in my
heart.’ Our Shaykh [Abū Saʿīd] sent back the answer, ‘I would like your hands to be
even as your heart’,” Monavvar, The secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, p. 423. Cf. Les
étapes mystiques du Shaykh Abu Sa’id, pp. 14 and 283-284. The episode from the Asrār was later quoted by ʿAttār in his Tadhkira, with the following added detail:
Qushayrī at the end of his life suposedly recognized the truth of Abū Saʿīd’s criticism towards his wealth, cf. ʿAttār, Tadhkira al-awliyāʾ, Arabic translation by
Shaykh Muhammad Asīlī al-Wastānī al-Shāfiʿī (d. after 836H), ed. Muhammad Adīb
al-Jādir, Damascus, Dār al-Maktabī, 2009, p. 765.

262

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Qushayrī had several family origins, both real and symbolic. From his
account of his origins, we retain a form of Arab-Iranian union in which maternal ties, rediscovered at his own wedding and which contrasted with the
dominant patrilinearity, played in principle, within a patriarchal Arab system, a decisive role.

Meeting Master Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq and the Marriage
with his Daughter, Fātima
The initial goal of learning more about fiscal taxes was replaced by a thirst
38
for knowledge after his encounter with Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq, “the Miller,”
Khorasanian master whose spiritual sanad goes back to Junayd by way of al39
Nasrābādhī (d. 367/977-78). The terminus ad quem of this encounter probably took place around 395/1004, year of the death of Muhammad Abū alKhaffāf, an individual that Qushayrī certainly met at Nishapur when he was
40
19 years old. At the time, Abū ʿAlī was a venerated master, well connected
socially to the patrician society of Nishapur. After having already acquired
fame, he married the daughter of Abū l-Hasan b. Qatrān, a dihqān renowned
41
for his piety. In 391/1001, Abū ʿAlī founded his own madrasa in the neigh38 Abū ʿAlī al-Hasan b. ʿAlī b. Muhammad al-Daqqāq: al-Ansārī, ʿAbd Allāh, Tabaqāt
al-sūfiyya, ed. Muhammad Sarwar Mawlāʼī, Tehrān, Intishārāt-i Tūs, 1362/1983, pp.
530-533; ʿAttār, Tadhkira al-awliyāʾ, ed. Nicholson, II, pp. 187-201 / Arabic transl.,
pp. 559-572; Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 1b-2b; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, pp. 3-6; Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn,
pp. 226-227; Munāwī, Zayn al-Dīn Muhammad ʿAbd al-Raʾūf, al-Kawākib al-durriyya fī tarājim al-sādāt al-sūfiyya. al-Tabaqāt al-kubrā, ed. Muhammad Adīb alBārid, 4 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Sādir, 1999, II, pp. 179-182; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 189;
Subkī, Tabaqāt, IV, pp. 329-331; ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Jāmī, Nafahāt al-uns min hadarāt
al-quds (in Arabic), ed. Muhammad Adīb Jādir, 1 ed., 2 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub alʿIlmiyya, 2003, I, pp. 418-421; J. Chabbi, “Abū ʿAlī Daqqāq,” Enc. Iranica, online edition, consulted on May 13, 2011; Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 150-154, Hussein LaShay’ and Farzin Negahban, “Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq,” Encyclopaedia Islamica, Brillonline, consulted on May 13, 2011.
39 “Ustādh Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq used to say: I took this Path from al-Nasrābādhī, and alNasrābādhī from al-Shiblī, and al-Shiblī from al-Junayd, and al-Junayd from al-Sarī,
and al-Sarī from Maʿrūf al-Karkhī, and Maʿrūf from Dāwūd al-Tāʾī, and Dāwūd met
the Successors (tābiʿūn),” Qushayrī, Risāla, p. 449; Sendschreiben, p. 408 Subkī,
Tabaqāt, V, p. 157; Nguyen, The Confluence, p. 58.
40 Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 271. Qushayrī, Sendschreiben, p. 11. Qushayrī affirms having
met him at Nishapur, this detail can be found in the isnād of transmission of a hadith
that Qushayrī transmitted to Khatīb al-Baghdādī and which is included in his
Taʾrīkh Baghdād: “akhbarnā al-Qushayrī, akhbarnā Abū al-Husayn Ahmad b.
Muhammad b. ʿUmar al-Khaffāf bi-Naysābūr [...]” (al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī, Taʾrīkh AlKhatīb al-Baghdādī, Tārīkh madīnat al-salām, ed. Bashshār ʿAwwād Maʿrūf, 17 vols.,
Beirut, Dār al-Gharb al-Islāmī, 2001, XII, p. 366.
41 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 4; J. Chabbi, “Abū ʿAlī Daqqāq”.

263

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI
42

bourhood of the ʿAzra gate. Qushayrī would later become his son-in-law
and successor and starting in the mid-fifth/eleventh century, the madrasa
would be known as madrasat al-Qushayrī. The role of Qushayrī’s children in
spreading knowledge constitutes in and of itself a heritage of what Qushayrī
learned with his father-in-law. Because Daqqāq had not left behind a written body of work, he owes the survival of his memory and his teachings to
the pages of his son-in-law Qushayrī, who cites him in his texts as a main
reference.
Fātima, Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq’s daughter, known in early sources as al43
Hurra al-Daqqāqiyya, would later become Qushayrī’s wife and play an eminent role in this transmission. She was born in 391/1001 and for many years
was her father’s only child. She was educated like a boy and her father's
teachings would later on in life allow Fātima to be recognised as a true authority in the field of hadith.
Qushayrī married Fātima on the advice and urgings of Abū ʿAlī around
405/1015, shortly before succeeding his master as the spiritual guide and director of his madrasa. The couple lived in Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq’s madrasa – an
interesting case of uxorilocality. According to ʿAbd al-Ghāfir al-Fārisī, Qushayrī’s grandson and his first biographer, it was Abū ʿAlī who personally
married his daughter to Qushayrī. This rather hagiographic version is all the
more necessary in that there was transmission between father-in-law and
44
son-in-law at all levels. Fātima’s young age (14 years old) and especially
the late birth of their first child in 414/1023 in comparison with the date of
their marriage in 405/1015, lead us to believe that conjugal life started much
later, even if Master Abū ʿAlī chose Qushayrī as his future son-in-law before
dying in 405/1015. The date of Qushayrī and Fātima’s marriage has been de45
bated by Bulliet and Gramlich. Bulliet believes that the marriage took place
46
after the death of Fātima’s father.
42 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 250.
43 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 344. Oldest known biography of Fātima. See also Dhahabī,
Shams al-Dīn Muhammad, Taʾrīkh al-islām, ed. ʿUmar ʿAbd al-Salām al-Tadmurī,
Beirut, Dār al-Kitāb al-ʿArabī, 1988, XXXII, p. 296. See also Jean-Jacques Thibon, “Fâtima bt. Abî ‘Alî al-Daqqâq,” in Audrey Fella, ed., Les femmes mystiques. Histoire et
dictionnaire, Paris, R. Laffont, 2013.
44 Fārisī, Siyāq 2b, 76a-76.; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 344. ʿAbd al-Ghāfir says balaghat
ashuddahā, when Fātima became adult; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, 459, Sarīfīnī says
taraʿraʿat, when she reaches the age of her first youth. See Nguyen, The Confluence,
p. 38.
45 Gramlich, Sendschreiben, p. 15.
46 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 152.

264

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Fātima became mother to Qushayrī’s children and played a particular
role in their education. Her name appears in several chains of transmission
(asānīd) of hadiths cited by Subkī in his Tabaqāt, followed by that of one of
her sons or grandsons. In the introduction to Subkī’s Tabaqāt, a chain of
transmission goes back to Abū l-Asʿad Hibat al-Rahmān b. ʿAbd al-Wāhid b.
ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī (d. 1152/466), according to his grandmother Fā47
tima (ʿan jaddatī al-hurra Fātima bt. al-ustādh Abī ʿAlī al-Daqqāq). Fātima
48
is described as the “glory of the women of her time.” She grew up following her father’s education and doctrine. He transmitted to her the Sufis’
theological creed (iʿtiqād) and education (ādāb al-sūfīya), as well as the
knowledge of the tawhīd (kalimāt al-tawhid). Fātima also learned the Qur’ān
by heart, reciting it day and night, and with knowledge of its exegesis (ʿārifa
bi-l-kitāb). Her father allowed her to attend the tadhkīr reunions and learn
from Nishapur's major figures of the time, such as Abū Nuʿaym al-Isfārāyīnī.
49
She would later continue studying with Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulāmī including after the death of her father. An episode of the Asrār al-tawhīd tells
how Fātima wished to listen to the words of Master Abū Saʿīd b. Abī lKhayr, figure with whom her husband Qushayrī, at least at the beginning of
50
Abū Saʿīd’s Nishapurian sojourn, most probably had tense relations. Qushayrī nevertheless grants her permission on the condition that she does not
allow herself to be recognised:
Ostād [Qushayrī] said: ‘I will consent, if you go in secret and
51
wear a nāvana over your head so that no one will suspect who
you are.’ [...] Lady Fātema did as instructed and put an old veil
over her head. Then she went to the Shaikh’s assembly in secret
and sat on the roof among the women. And that day Ostād Imam
[Qushayrī] did not attend the assembly himself. The Shaikh
opened his discourse with an anecdote about Ostād Bu ʿAli-ye
Daqqāq and then said: ‘And behold, part of Bu ʿAli is here with
us, a piece of himself is present listening!’ When lady Fātema
heard these words, she entered an ecstatic state, lost conscious47 Subkī, Tabaqāt, I, p. 2. Subkī later confirms this transmission link in his note on Hibat al-Rahmān al-Qushayrī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 329.
48 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, pp. 458-459.
49 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 458.
50 For a critical analysis of the Asrār episodes linked to the meeting of Qushayrī with
Abū Saʿīd, see F. Meier, Abū Saʿīd-i Abū l-Ḫayr, pp. 57-59.
51 “In the language of the Nishapuris, the navāna is an old, full length veil worn at
night,” The secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, p. 161.

265

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

ness and slipped from the roof. The Shaikh said: ‘Oh Lord God,
not in presence of such a crowd!’ Just then, she ceased falling and
remained suspended in midair. The other women reached down
and lifted her back onto the roof. When Lady Fātema returned
52
home, she recounted to Ostād Imam what had happened.
Qushayrī inherited from his father-in-law a deep respect for his spouse,
which certainly explains why he did not take on a second wife, or at least
not for quite some time. He probably also managed her possessions and
53
wealth. The mother, in terms of the spiritual and intellectual education of
their children, equalled the father as the example of their eldest daughter,
Karīma, proves. Karīma al-Kubrā apparently received from her mother
teachings on spiritual practice and asceticism and from her father the path
54
to knowledge. Subkī mentions Fātima in each of the entries of his Tabaqāt
dedicated to the sons of Qushayrī, each time in respectful terms, “Daughter
55
of the master, spouse of the master, and mother of masters.” As for Samʿānī,
he calls her “the mother of the children,” (umm al-banīn), the children, by
56
antonomasia.
None of the Arabic sources mentions a second spouse. This said, it is
highly possible that Qushayrī took on a second wife and even more likely
57
that he had concubines. ʿAbd al-Ghāfir stated that Fātima had six children,
58
boys and girls (ruziqat al-awlād al-sitta min al-dhukūr wa-l-ināth). Whereas from other sources, we know that Qushayrī had at least five girls and six
boys. In another passage of the Siyāq, we see that Abū Nasr, Qushayrī's
fourth son, was the first after the “Daqqāqī” progeny (huwa al-awwalu baʿd
59
al-ʿasabat al-daqqāqiyya), as if he were not a Daqqāqī, son of Fātima. The
52 E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s mystical Oneness, p. 161; Etapes mystiques, p. 98.
53 wa-kāna Zayn al-Islām yaqūmu lahā bi-l-saʿī fīmā kāna lahā, Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab,
p. 458.
54 akhadhat tarīqat al-ʿibāda wa l-zuhd ʿan wālidatihā [...] wa- l-maʿrifa ʿan wālidihā,
Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 468.
55 bint al-sayyid, zawjat al-sayyid, umm al-sādāt, Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 106.
56 Samʿānī, Tahbīr, I, p. 471. The kunya umm al-banīn was often given in association
with the name Fātima and functioned as a blessing: When a girl is named Fātima,
she is also given at the same time, two propitiatory names: Mubāraka (“blessed”) and
Umm al-banīn (“mother of many sons”), Jacqueline Sublet, “Nommer l’animal en arabe d’après un auteur du XIIe siècle,” Anthropozoologica, 39/1, 2004, p. 100.
57 His master, Abū ʿAlī, had a slave girl named Fayrūz, whom Qushayrī mentions in
the Risāla (Qushayrī, Risāla, p. 485; Gramlich, Sendschreiben, p. 448; Knysh, Epistle,
pp. 332-333).
58 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 469.
59 Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 45b.

266

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU
60

other sources quote this passage until Subkī. In his Tabaqāt, despite quoting ʿAbd al-Ghāfir, he bypasses this detail and affirms on the contrary that
61
all of Qushayrī’s children are from Fātima. Subkī’s discomfiture when confronted with ʿAbd al-Ghāfir's text, which he knew in detail, shows that this
passage is problematic for him. Hamid Algar affirms that “He [Qushayrī]
had a total of six sons: three by Kadbanu Fatima, herself a woman of schol arly accomplishment, and three by a second wife, the daughter of a certain
62
Ahmad b. Muhammad al-Charkhi al-Baladi.” Even though it is not clearly
stated, his source is Badīʿ al-Zamān Farūzānfar, the Persian editor of the
Risāla, who states this in his introduction to the text without referring expli63
citly to a primary source either. In other biographical passages dealing
with Qushayrī’s children, Farūzānfar cites Sayyid Muhammad Nūrbakhsh's
64
Mushajjara, once again without a bibliographic reference. Beyond the
source itself, the indication is precious because it offers a glimpse of the existence of a Persian hagiography concerning Qushayrī, lesser known than
that of the Arabic tradition.
In Risāla, written in 437/1045-6, nearly thirty years after the death of his
master, Qushayrī wrote a chapter dedicated to spiritual companionship
(suhba), in which he recounts his memories of his relationship with his master and father-in-law. Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq said that he never arrived at his
master al-Nasrābādhī’s home without first completing a major ablution.
60 huwa al-awwal man walada al-imām baʿd al-ʿasabat al-daqqāqiyya. Ibn ʿAsākir,
Tabyīn, p. 308. [...] wa-huwa al-awwal baʿd al-asabat al-daqqāqiyya. Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 324.
61 wa-l-kull min al-sayyida al-jalīla Fātima bt. al-ustādh Abī ʿAlī al-Daqqāq. Subkī,
Tabaqāt, VII, p. 159.
62 Hamid Algar, “Introduction”, in Qushayrī, Principles of Sufism, transl. by. Barbara R.
von Schlegell, Berkeley, Mizan Press, 1993, vii. This affirmation was reiterated by
Alexander Knysh, in Al-Qushayri’s Epistle on Sufism, xxii, n. 9. Algar cites Heinz
Halm’s family tree, the latter does not mention Qushayrī’s second marriage, see
Heinz Halm, Die Ausbreitung der šāfìʿitischen Rechtsschule von den Anfängen bis zum
8./14. Jahrhundert, Wiesbaden, Reichert, 1974, p. 61.
63 Badīʿ al-Zamān Farūzānfar, Tarjumah-i Risāla-i Qushayriyyah, Tehran, Intishārāt-i
ʿIlmī wa Farhangī, 1374/1995, p. 48.
64 his text has not been identified. It was probably penned by Sayyid Muhammad
Nūrbakhsh, founder of the Shiʿite branch of the Kubrawiyya, born in 795/1392 (see
Hamid Algar, “Nūrbakhshiyya,” Enc. Islam 2, VIII, pp. 134-136). Shahzad Bashir’s
monography on Nūrbakhshiyya does not mention it either (see Shahzad Bashir,
Messianic Hopes and Mystical Vision. The Nūrbakhshīya between Medieval and Modern Islam, Columbia, University of South Carolina Press, 2003). The Wikipedia-Iran
article lists among the master’s works, the Shajarat al-mashāyikh (art. “Sayyid
Muhammad Nūrnabakhsh Khurāsānī,” in Persian, consulted on March 27, 2012).

267

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Qushayrī affirms having in turn respected this rule with Abū ʿAlī throughout his life:
As a beginner I would never enter into the presence of my master
Abū ʿAlī unless I was fasting. I would also perform a full ablution.
How many times did I come to the door of his school only to turn
back out of my lack of resolve to enter [his house]? When I overcame my timidity and entered the school, I would be overcome by
a sense of numbness in the middle of it to such an extent that one
could stick a needle into me without my taking notice of it. When
I had an issue [to discuss] I had no need to move my tongue in
order to ask him about it, for no sooner than I found myself in his
presence, he would start to explain it [to me]. Many a time I witnessed this phenomenon on his part. Sometimes I would think to
myself: ‘If God were to send a messenger to His creatures during
my lifetime, could I possibly have felt for him the same respect
that I had for Abū ʿAlī – may God have mercy on him?’ I could
not imagine that this was possible at all. Throughout my attendance of his teaching sessions and being in his presence, after a
[spiritual] bond (wasla) had formed between us, not for a single
moment until his very death did a thought of disputing [his opin65
ion] cross my mind.
The capacity of the master and future father-in-law to perceive the disciple’s
state is mentioned in a second biographical episode, found in the Risāla in
the chapter on firāsa, “spiritual intuition” or “spiritual insight” that unveils
the thoughts of others. Qushayrī requests permission from his master Abū
ʿAlī to go to Nasā, a village to the north of Nishapur where Abū ʿAlī had
66
founded a spiritual centre. Qushayrī was also teaching at the al-Mutārriz
65 Qushayrī, Risāla, p. 449; Knysh, Epistle, pp. 305-306.
66 J. Chabbi, “Abū ʿAlī Daqqāq,” Enc. Iranica, online edition. Daqqāq’s presence in Nasā
was attested early on by Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 4. The founding of this khānaqāh is described in the Asrār al-Tawhid, see E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, p. 110 /Etapes mystiques, pp. 55-58: “Ostād Abu ʿAli-ye Daqqāq built this khānaqāh following the instructions of Mostafā – God’s blessings and peace be upon the
Prophet! When Ostād Bu ʿAli came to Nasā to make a pilgrimage to the tombs of the
shaikhs, there was no sanctuary for the Sufis. That night when he went to sleep, he
beheld the Mostafā in a dream, peace be upon him, and the Prophet ordered him
‘Build a sanctuary here for the Sufis.’ The Prophet pointed to the spot where the
khānaqāh now stands and drew a line around the plot of land to show what size the
khānaqah should be. Early in the morning Ostād Bu ʿAli rose to his feet and went to

268

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

mosque at the time. One day, before his departure, while accompanying his
master Abū ʿAlī to his majlis, it occurred to him (khatara bi-bālī) that perhaps master Abū ʿAlī could replace his teaching sessions during his absence:
At that moment, he turned to me and said: ‘I will replace you in
your teaching session during your absence.’ I walked a little further. Then it occurred to me that he was not well and that it
would be difficult for him to stand in for me two days a week. I
thought: ‘Perhaps he should teach my session only once a week?’
Again he turned to me and said: ‘If I am unable to teach for you
two days a week, I will replace you [in your session] only once a
week.’ I walked a little further, and then another matter occurred
to me. Again he turned to me and said exactly what that matter
67
was about.
An episode helps us understand how strictly he devoted himself to venerating and serving his master and future father-in-law:
The master Abū ʿAlī – may God have mercy on him – made a
68
vow not to lean against anything. One day, I met him at a gathering and tried to put a cushion behind his back, because I saw
that he had nothing to lean against. He discreetly moved away
from my cushion. I thought that he was wary of the cushion because it was not covered by a cloth or rug. However, he told me:
‘I want no support whatsoever.’ After that I kept watching him
69
[for a while] and indeed he never leaned against anything.
the spot. The same line which Mostafā, blessing and peace be upon him, had drawn
in dream, was visible on the ground. Every saw it. Ostād, following the same outline,
laid out the walls of the khānaqāh and the blessed sanctuary and build them. Since
then, the blessed footsteps of many shaikhs and venerable men have arrived at this
sanctuary, and even today its foundations remain and are visible.”
67 Qushayrī, Risāla, p. 372; Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, pp. 226-227; Subkī, Tabaqāt, IV, p. 330;
Knysh, Epistle, pp. 244-245.
68 Abū ʿAlī’s physical posture is an exteriorized reflex that illustrates the fact that he is
leaning on nothing other than God.
69 Qushayrī, Risāla, p. 433; Gramlich, Sendschreiben, p. 392. Knysh, Epistle, p. 293. This
passage is similar to another episode that took place between Bistāmī and Dhū alNūn al-Misrī, retold in the ʿAttār in the Tadhkira (Le mémorial des Saints, transl. by
Abel Pavet du Courteille, Paris, Seuil, 1976, p. 165): “It is said that Dhū l-Nūn alMisrī had sent a prayer rug to Bayezid and the latter did not wish to accept it, sending it back with these words, ‘What would I do with a prayer rug? What I need is a
pillow on which to lean.’ Upon receiving the message, Dsou’n-Noun bought a good
pillow for Bayezid and sent it to him. Bayezid was so weak at the time that he was

269

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Another episode was related by Qushayrī’s son, on behalf of his father.
Qushayrī was said to have owned a rug that he kept in the sleeve of his
robe, a rug that the Imam Abū ʿAlī had given him. This gift rewarded Qushayrī’s veneration of his master, a self-imposed practice which he maintained
throughout his lifetime. He said that he never unfolded the patched rug of
disciples in the presence of his master (musallā muraqqāʿ). Instead, he used
ordinary Tabarān fabrics to show due adab for Abū ʿAlī and avoid displaying a reprehensible desire to become a master (tashāyukh). For the same
reasons, he also never lengthened surerogatory prayers in his master’s presence. On seeing this, Abū ʿAlī offered him the rug while reciting lines of po70
etry. A final episode, related by Abū Nasr once again, confirms this special
tie between Abū Nasr’s father and his maternal grandfather:
I came once to the door of his room, nobody was there to open it.
He stood up and opened it himself. I mentioned what I had to say
to him and remained standing, waiting for him to leave and close
the door. He remained standing also and when the wait became
long, he said, ‘You go, I do not want to close the door in your
face.’ Imām Abū Nasr said, ‘the same thing happened to me with
71
my father.’
Qushayrī refers to his own experience with his master to enliven the teachings he transmitted in the Risāla. In the absence of a father, who died young,
the master played the role of a spiritual father. However, the alliance soon
became complicated since the master also became the father-in-law and a
form of matrilinearity, in which the Daqqāqī lineage took precedence, completed Qushayrī’s intellectual training and spiritual heritage. This dual experience, both bodily and spiritual, was gathered by Qushayrī’s children and
in the case we have just seen, experienced by them.

nothing more than skin and bones. He did not accept the pillow either and said, ‘He
who needs support can find it in the liberality and generosity of our Lord Most
High; he does not need to concern himself with pillows that creatures could provide
for him.’”
70 wa-kāna dhālika awwalu qasd ittafaqa lī fa-aʿtānī musallan mimmā yaʿtāduhu alfuqarāʾ wa-qāla lī fī dhālika al-waqt: yā man taghayyaru sūratī limā badā / fajamīʿu
mā zannū binā tahqīqun, Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī, K. al-Shawāhid wa al-amthāl, f.
60/a-b. Concerning this text, see infra.
71 Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī, k. al-Shawāhid wa l-amthāl, f. 131/b and 132/a.

270

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

The Horizon of Transmission: Qushayrī’s Children
72

Subkī named Qushayrī’s sons “the six shining stars”. They owed much to
the education they received from their mother and father. They were almost
all buried in the family madrasa next to Qushayrī, their father and Abū ʿAlī,
73
their grandfather. An episode in Subkī’s biography helps us grasp the ties
of love that bound Qushayrī to his children:
We were told that one of Master Abū l-Qāsim’s [al-Qushayrī]
children had fallen gravely ill, so ill that there seemed to be little
hope [of saving him], which saddened the master deeply. He saw
God (al-Haqq) in a dream and lamented to him. God answered,
74
‘Gather together all the Verses of Healing (āyāt al-shifāʾ) and recite them to your son, then write them on a recipient, fill it with a
drink and give it to him to drink.’ Qushayrī did so and the child
75
was cured.
76

The ties were reciprocal. Ibn al-Jawzī (d. 597/1201) tells of the sadness of
Qushayrī’s sons at the death of their father:
[Qushayrī] was buried next to his master. None of the children
entered his room (baytihi), nor did they touch his clothes or his
books before many years, in sign of respect and veneration for his
77
person (ihtirāman wa taʿzīman lahu).
The same episode was related by Ibn Salāh al-Shahrazūrī (d. 643/1245) in his
Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ al-shāfiʿiyya, in a more detailed version in which the reaction of Qushayrī’s children was in reality attributed to all of Nishapur’s
notables – who thus became his children after a fashion. He quotes the biographer ʿAbd al-Ghāfir al-Fārisī, and writes:

72 Sitta nujūm al-zāhira, Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 225.
73 According to Samʿānī, certain women in the family (Amat al-Rahīm, Abū Nasr’s
daughter; Amat al-Ghāfir, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir’s sister) were buried near the ʿAzra gate,
where the madrasa was located. It would therefore seem that they were close to, yet
still outside of, the family’s mashhad. See Samʿānī, Muntakhab, pp. 1875 and 1878.
74 The verses are: al-Tawba, 14; Yūnis 57; al-Nahl 69; al-Isrāʾ 82, al-Shuʿarāʾ 80; Fussilat
44.
75 Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 158.
76 See Henri Laoust, “Ibn al-ḎJJawzī, ʿAbd al-Rahmān b. ʿAlī b. Muhammad Abu’lFarasJhJ b. al-Ḏjawzī,”
Enc. Islam 2, III, p. 751.
J
77 Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Muntazam fī taʾrīkh al-mulūk wa-l-umam, ed. Muhammad ʿAbd alQādir ʿAtāʾ et al., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, VIII, p. 280.

271

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

The master died on Sunday 16 of the month of Rabīʿ al-Akhīr of
the year 465/1072, in the morning before dawn. His eldest son
Abū Saʿd ʿAbd Allāh led the funeral prayer. A huge crowd assembled, such an assembly had never before been seen. He was
buried in the madrasa, next to his master Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq. The
spiritual masters (aʾimma al-ahwāl) took place next to the tomb’s
78
head (turba), never leaving it day or night, after which they
slept. None of them entered his room, nor touched his clothes,
79
nor his books, nor his notebooks (ajzāʾ), before many years out
80
of respect and veneration for the person.
These accounts represent precious testimony to the close relation and veneration, at both the spiritual and family levels, in the biographies of the
Qushayrī family. Does the phenomenon of the Sufi family represent a late
developing fact in Muslim mysticism? Or rather does it start at the precise
moment we are examining? The case of the Khorasanian Sufi families
quoted in the introduction could confirm this hypothesis. In this sense, it is
astonishing to observe the manner in which the biographers of the Qushayrī
81
family insist on the spiritual and noble ties that developed between father
and son. The Qushayrī represent the ideal model of the epoch’s nobility.
Bulliet underlines the fact that the Nishapurian patriarch’s prestige was de82
rived from three possible sources: religion, farm lands, and trade. The
Qushayrī certainly excelled in the first two categories. As close friends and
even members of the Qushayrīs, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir, Samʿānī, and Ibn ʿAsākir
certainly gave the Qushayrīs an important place in their biographical and
83
apologetic writings. ʿAbd al-Ghāfir speaks of the al-ʿasabat al-daqqāqiyya,
78 “Turba, Tkish. türbe, is used as a standard term designating an Islamic funerary
building or complete funerary building complex of various forms or, in a more generic sense, denoting only the funerary aspect of a building,” Thomas Leisten, art.
“Turba,” Enc. Islam 2, X, p. 673.
79 Juzʾ, pl. ajzāʾ : “independent gatherings or booklets ( juzʾ), not to be bound together
in one or more volumes (mujallad) but to be kept separately,” P.S. van Koningsveld,
The Latin-Arabic glossary of the Leiden University Library: a contribution to the study
of Mozarabic manuscripts and literature, Leiden, New Rhine Publishers, 1977, pp. 6870, n. 89; “Musannaf, musnad and juzʾ are compositions connected specifically with
Hadith compilations,” Adam Gacek, Arabic Manuscripts. A Vademecum for Readers,
Leiden-Boston, Brill, 2009, p. 23.
80 Ibn al-Salāh al-Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ al-shāfiʿiyya, ed. Muhyī al-Dīn ʿAlī
Najīb, 2 vols. Beirut, Dār al-Bashāʾir al-islāmiyya, 1992, II, p. 568.
81 Noble may not be the appropriate term; it is more akin to an endogamic aristocracy.
82 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 20.
83 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 215; Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 308.

272

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

the male descendants of Master al-Daqqāq; Sarīfīnī, in the Muntakhab min
kitāb al-siyāq li-taʾrīkh Naysābūr, speaks clearly of an al-shīʿa al-daqqā84
qiyya. Another grandson of Qushayrī, Abū l-Asʿad Hibat al-Rahmān b.
ʿAbd al-Wāhid b. ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī is defined by Samʿānī khatīb
Naysābūr wa-muqaddam al-qushayriyya bihā, as a preacher of Nishapur and
85
the most eminent delegate of the city's Qushayriyya. We will come back to
the figure of Hibat al-Rahmān in the following pages.
86
Let us take a closer look at this terminology. The terme ʿasaba is derived from the technical vocabulary of the science of dispositions (mīrāth, or
87
ʿilm al-farāʾid), it indicates not only the brothers but also all the men in the
male ascendance of the deceased up to but not including the grandfather. In
our biographical and hagiographic context, this designates a male group
linked to a family eponym. I have used here as a comparison the Muntakhab
min kitāb al-siyāq li-taʾrīkh Naysābūr, Sarīfīnī’s abbreviated version of al88
Fārisī’s Siyāq, in order to better capture the breadth of this term. The term
ʿasaba only appears twice and indicates the male brotherhood linked to an
eponymous family. Alongside the ʿasaba daqqāqiyya, there is also the ʿasāba
89
bahīriyya. In this version, the term is absent from the Ansāb of Samʿānī, a
work that is dedicated to genealogy (ʿilm al-nasab), in which Arab-Persian
families are nevertheless present. This allows us to suppose that the use of
ʿasaba for the Qushayrīs remains exceptional, aimed at describing the broth-

84 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, 384. He states that one of Qushayrī’s grandsons, ʿAbd al-Samad
b. ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Qushayrī was part of the shīʿa daqqāqīya.
85 Samʿānī, Tahbīr, II, p. 369; Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 329.
86 Hiroyuki Yanagihashi, “Solidarity in an Islamic society: ʿasaba, family, and the community,” in Yanagihashi Hiroyuki, ed., The concept of territory in Islamic law and
thought, London, Kegan Paul International, 2000, pp. 51-67.
87 “In keeping with the patriarchal system prevalent among the Arabs, the estate of a
deceased tribesman went ab intestato to the nearest male relative(s); the order of
succession in which these relatives, the so-called ʿasaba (corresponding to agnati),
were called upon to inherit survives and has been systematized in Islamic law.”
Aharon Layish and Joseph Schacht, “Mīrāth”, Enc. Islam 2, VII, p. 106.
88 This Muntakhab, when compared to the only existing manuscript of the Siyāq, edited by Frye and later by Muhammad Kāzim Mahmudī, seems sometimes to contain
more information than the Siyāq itself, the latter being certainly already an abbreviated version. Confirmation of this hypothesis comes from the comparison of Qushayrī’s biography in the Siyāq in Frye’s edition with the one quoted by Ibn ʿAsākir in
the Tabyīn and authorised by al-Fārisī himself. Both texts do not correspond exactly
and Ibn ʿAsākir’s text is more complete. This justifies the use of Muntakhab as a
primary source alongside Frye’s edition of the Siyāq.
89 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 307.

273

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

ers Qushayrī-Daqqāq as a unit, a unit that was perhaps not as clear in
Nishapur’s other family groups.
The term shīʿa, in the Muntakhab, is ambivalent. It designates all at once
the Shi‘ites and family groups. ʿAbd al-Ghāfir seems to uphold at least par90
tially positive statements concerning the Shiites. A member of the alʿAlawī family, Muhammad b. Ahmad Abu l-Qāsim (d. 465/1073) is defined as
91
fādil min duʿāt al-shīʿa. ʿAlī b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz al-Khashshāb was “a recogniz92
ed Shi‘ite master” (maʿrūf min shuyūkh al-shīʿa). The Sharifan families of
Nishapur were in any case not linked to Shiʿism, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir presents the
case of a member of the ʿAlawī-Husaynī family (descendants of ʿAlī b. Abī
93
Tālib), who was opposed to “Shi‘ite extremists” (al-ghulāt al-shīʿa). Once
again, the term shīʿa to define a family of learned or spiritual individuals
was exclusively reserved for the Qushayrīs, whose allegiance to Sunnism
cannot be called into question, considering their devotion to the city’s
Ashʿarī-Shāfiʿī current. In three cases, the shīʿa daqqāqiyya is mentioned: for
94
95
the son of Qushayrī ʿAbd al-Wāhid, for his grandson ʿAbd al-Samad, and
for ʿUmar b. Ahmad al-Saffār. The exclusive use of the term shīʿa for the
Qushayrīs is once again a clue to this family’s particularity.
96
The last term we would like to analyse is muqaddam. In bio-hagiographic language, this term does not seem to encompass the technical value
of a representative of a Sufi master. However it does apply to the different
branches of classical knowledge. The Qādī Muhammad al-Bistāmī is called
muqaddam al-shāfiʿiyya, the most important (or the head) of the Nishapuri97
an Shāfiʿītes. Muhammad b. ʿUbayd Allāh al-Mahmī is defined as almuqaddam al-mashhūr al-muhaddith, an eminent and renowned traditionist.
Even Qushayrī is defined as muqaddam al-tāʾifa, heads of the city’s Sufi
98
group. Yūsuf b. ʿAlī al-Maghribī, who was one of Qushayrī’s hadith disciples, was the muqaddam fī l-nahw wa-l-sarf, the most illustrious represent99
ative in the field of syntax and morphology. The use of the term in relation
90 For a summary of Nishapur’s religious mosaic at the time and the role of the Shi‘ites
within, see J. J. Thibon, L’œuvre d’Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, pp. 49-51.
91 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 64.
92 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 422.
93 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 457. See Heinz Halm, “Ḡolāt,” Enc. Iranica, online edition.
94 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 370.
95 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 384.
96 M. Plessner, “Muḳaddam”, Enc. Islam 2, VII, p. 492.
97 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 17.
98 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 365.
99 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 539.

274

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

to a family nisba, such as Hibat al-Rahmān al-Qushayrī muqaddam al-qushayriyya, is once again a unique incident. It is also possible that this particular qushayriyya was the madrasa, or convent-school, that was indeed led by
Hibat al-Rahmān. As for the master delegating certain functions to one of
his advanced disciples, such an act was already attested in the case of Qush ayrī, who is said to have delegated the education of ten advanced disciples
100
to Abū l-Qasim Rūbāhī.
However, creating a generic name based on the family nisba (-iyya), appears several times in our sources. Families are indeed defined as bahīriy101
102
103
104
105
106
ya, hassāniyya, mahmiyya, qushayriyya, sābūniyya, sāʿidiyya,
107
108
shahhāmiyya, suʿlukiyya. The remarkable aspect is in the fact that we
are on the edges of Sufi terminology, Qushayrī himself talked of Junaydiyya,
109
the Junayd school. Hujwīrī in the Kashf al-mahjūb talks of sahliān, muhās110
ibiān, hakīmiān, etc. Finally, we should mention that Ibn Athīr in his
Tahdhīb al-ansāb, states that Abū Hafs ʿUmar b. Muhammad b. al-Husayn b.
ʿAlī b. Ibrāhīm al-Farghūlī (born in 450 H.) “was a companion of the qush111
ayriyya and was linked to them in Sufism.” Even though the terminology
100 “A certain Shaikh Bu’l-Qāsem-e Rubāhī lived in Nishapur. He was one of the great
Sufis and the spiritual leader of ten dervishes who were famous Sufis themselves.
They were disciples of Ostād Imam Bu’l-Qāsem-e Qošeyri [...],” E. Monavvar, The
Secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, p. 191; Etapes Mystiques, p. 121; F. Meier, Abū
Saʿīd-i Abū l-Ḫayr, p. 444.
101 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, pp. 153, 217, 222, 231, 234, 245, 259, 307, 308, 326, 353, 434, 452,
475 and 496. On the Bahīrī, see Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 192-200.
102 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 234. On the Hasanī, see Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 235-245.
103 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, pp. 19, 35, 67, 87 (musalla l-mahmiyya), 115, 408 (bayt al-mahmiyya). On the Mahmī, see Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 89-105.
104 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, pp. 120 (bayt al-qushayriyya), 153 (bayt al-qushayriyya), 255
(madrasat al-qushayriyya), 452, (madrasat al-qushayriyya), 503 (madrasat al-qushayriyya), 521 (madrasat al-qushayriyya).
105 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 73. Concerning the Sābūnī, see Bulliet, The Patricians, pp.
134-147.
106 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, pp. 66, 161, 162, 200, 201, 216, 217, 222, 232, 280, 319, 347, 353,
360, 362, 453, 464, 475, 480, 485 and 541. On the Sāʿidī, see Bulliet, The Patricians,
pp. 201-225.
107 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, pp. 121, 171, 217 and 319. On the Sāʿidī, see Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 169-172.
108 Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 22. On the Suʿlūkī, see Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 115-133.
109 Wa qāla baʿd al-junaydiyya li-l-Shiblī fī baʿd asfārihi [....], Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī, K.
al-Shawāhid, fol. 132a.
110 Hujwīrī, Kash al-mahjūb, transl. Nicholson, chapter “Sufi sects,” pp. 176-266.
111 sahiba al-qushayriyya wa-ntasaba ilayhim fī l-tasawwuf, Ibn Athīr, al-Lubāb fī
tahdhīb al-ansāb, Beirut, Dār Sādir, II, p. 423.

275

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI
112

evoked does not designate a tarīqa in the fullest acceptation of the term,
we clearly see that these biographers, linked to the Qushayrī family through
blood or educational ties, bestow upon the family a certain amount of
prestige. As we will see later, this prestige is based on the continuation and
preservation of the paternal model and example, which embodied the man’s
intellectual and spiritual dimensions. Though the sons received through
their genealogy an authority tied to their social and “intellectual” status,
they in turn also contributed to confirming the value of their family by
spreading the paternal heritage, his works, and his spiritual influence.
What position did the master’s family hold in his teaching circle? How
did the role of those closest to him compare to that of other disciples? An
episode related in the Asrār al-tawhīd offers a glimpse of the possible difficulties facing a master in the management of a madrasa-khānaqāh. In this
113
episode, Ismāʿīl (Qushayrī’s brother-in-law and Fātima's brother), the
second son of the master and father-in-law, Abū ʿAlī, occupied a special
place in Qushayrī’s entourage. Ismāʿīl al-Daqqāq was also especially admired by another disciple who was in love with him. Qushayrī reacted very
firmly to preclude any unsuitable outpourings and chased the disciple from
the madrasa:
One day in Nishapur, Ostād Imam Bu’l-Qāsem Qošeyri, God sanctify his awesome soul, defrocked a darvish, caused him great vexation, and drove him forth from the city. The reason for this was
that the darvish had entertained amorous feelings for Khwāja Esmāʿilak-e Daqqāq, and Esmāʿilak was Ostād Imam’s brother-in114
law. It seems the darvish had beseeched a Sufi supporter: 'Give
112 See the collective article “Tarīḳa” in Enc. Islam 2, X, p. 243.
113 Mentioned by Bulliet, “Abū ʿAlī also had a son, Ismāʿīl, who is rarely mentioned but
who seems to have grown to adulthood. He was born to a different wife than Fātima, apparently a later one of humble background judging from his obscurity and
from Abū ʿAlī’s madrasah being inherited by or through Fātima.” (Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 153). In light of this episode, we can suppose that Ismāʿīl was clearly much
younger than his sister Fātima, and was probably educated by his brother-in-law
ʿAbd al-Karīm. As we will see, in the Persian tradition, Ismāʿīl enjoyed enough prestige for “obscurity” to be an incongruous description of his position (see the following note).
114 In his anonymity, Ismāʿīl, as proven by the use of the honorific, khwāja, must have
enjoyed a certain amount of recognition. Jāmī in Nafahāt al-uns mentions a descendant of Ismāʿīl b. Abī ʿAlī al-Daqqāq, whose nisba is the following: Awhad al-Dīn
ʿAbd Allāh al-Balyānī b. Masʿūd b. Muhammad b. ʿAlī b. Ahmad b. ʿUmar b. Ismāʿīl
b. Abī ʿAlī al-Daqqāq. Awhad al-Dīn (d. in Shirāz in 686/1288) was initiated into the
spiritual lineage of Abū Najīb al-Suhrawardī and enjoyed a certain spiritual renown;

276

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

a banquet tonight with reciters and see that Esmāʿilak is present,
that I may be in his company tonight and raise shouts gazing on
his beauty. Indeed, I am burning up in love for him.' That night
the supporter saw to the darvish’s wish. He arranged a banquet
and invited the reciters, as well as Khwāja Esmāʿilak. Thus, when
the food was consumed, that night they performed the samāʿ. The
following day, news reached Ostād Imam, wherupon he abused
the darvish, took away his robe, repudiated him and drove him
115
out of the city. [...].
This episode also informs us about the authority linked to the performance
of the samāʿ. Without entering into the details of the importance of debates
concerning Qushayrī’s spiritual audition, we do note that the practice of
shāhidbāzī (the contemplation of the divine in a human face, oftentimes that
of a beardless boy) is utterly banished from his manual on Sufism, the
116
Risāla. Qushayrī thus composed a collection of instructions for communal
his notice in the Nafahāt is long (four pages). See Jāmī, Nafahāt al-uns, pp. 375-379.
Awhad al-Dīn al-Balyānī is the author of the famous Risāla al-ahadiyya. Epître sur
l'unicité absolue, presentation, translation, and annotations by Michel Chodkiewicz,
Paris, Les Deux Océans, 1982. Ismāʿīl b. Abī ʿAlī al-Daqqāq is also quoted by Fārisī as
an authority on hadith. Fārisī grants him the title of shaykh (cf. Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p.
184). He goes on to state that Ismāʿīl was born when his father was already elderly
and his birth was a source of joy and pride (tabajjaha bi-dhālika) for Abū ʿAlī (Fārisī,
Mukhtasar, p. 5).
115 E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s mystical Oneness, pp. 162-163; Etapes mystiques,
pp. 99-101.
116 Qushayrī, Risāla, bab al-shāhid, p. 25; Knysh, Epistle on Sufism, p. 108; Gramlich,
Sendschreiben, p. 143. On the shāhid debate, see H. Ritter, The Ocean of the Soul: Men,
the World and God in the Stories of Farīd al-Dīn ʿAttār, transl. by J. O’Kane and B.
Radtke, Leiden, Brill, 2003, pp. 448-520; H. Ritter, Das Meer der Seele, Leiden, Brill,
1955, pp. 470-477. Concerning the practice at the core of the sālimiyya movement,
see Mohammad Ali Amir Moezzi, “Ibn ‘Atâ al-Adamî, esquisse d’une biographie historique,” Studia Islamica, 63, 1986, pp. 63-127. See also: Eve Feuillebois-Pierunek, A
la croisée des voies célestes. Faxr al-Din ‘Eraqi, p. 285, online at: http://hal.archivesouvertes.fr/docs/00/61/11/95/PDF/ERAQI-HAL-SHS.pdf, with a bibliography; Nasrollah Pourjavady, “Stories of Aḥmad al-Ghazālī ‘Playing the Witness’ in Tabrīz
(Shams-i Tabrīzī’s Interest in shāhid-bāzī),” in Todd Lawson, ed., Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Theology, Philosophy and Mysticism in Muslim Thought, London-New
York, I.B. Tauris in association with the Institute of Ismaili Studies, 2005, pp. 200220; Lloyd Ridgeon, “The Controversy of Shaykh Awhad al-Dīn Kirmānī and Handsome, Moon-Faced Youths: A Case Study of Shāhid-Bāzī in Medieval Sufism,” Journal of Sufi Studies, 1/1, 2012, pp. 3-30, with a bibliography; Leonard Lewisohn, “The
Mystical Milieu : Hāfiz’s erotic spirituality,” in id., ed., Hafiz and the Religion of Love
in Classical Persian Poetry, London-New York, I.B. Tauris in association with Iran
Heritage Foundation, 2010, pp. 43-55, with a bibliography.

277

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

living for his disciples in the madrasa/khānaqāh. It is this collection that
ends his famous Risāla. A paragraph is dedicated to the issue of beardless
adolescents (ahdāth) and to the status of keeping their company. Qushayrī
begins by categorically affirming that their company is in and of itself, a
very serious matter; he then quotes a saying attributed to Fath al-Mawsilī;
and finally, he argues against the shāhid-contemplation:
[Fath al-Mawsilī said:] “I kept company with thirty [Sufi] masters, who were considered to be among the Substitutes (al-abdāl).
When I was about to leave them, each of them gave me one and
the same advice: ‘Stay away from the company of youths and do
not mingle with them!'” There are, however, those who claim to
have overcome the depravity pertaining to this issue and who argue that this is but a test of the [human] spirit that does no harm.
[As their proof] they recount the insinuations of those who teach
about the “sign” (shāhid) and the anecdotes about certain Sufi
masters and the sinful behaviour that they have exhibited, which
it would have been more appropriate for them to conceal [from
the public]. This kind of talk approximates to polytheism and
amounts to [sheer] unbelief. So may the aspirant avoid the company of youths or mingling with them, for this easily opens the
door of [his] abandonment and rejection [by God]. Let us take
117
refuge in God from evil behaviour!
One last significant anecdote testifies to the value of being a Qushayrī in
Nishapur at the time, and the respect given to his teachings and to those
family members who transmitted them. ʿAbd al-Ghāfir tells of a man who
pretended to be one of his brothers. The individual would surely never have
risked such a falsification if he had not hoped to gain from it:
There is an interesting story of a man from Nishapur who went
to another city and made himself out to be the son of Abū ʿAbd
Allāh Ismāʿīl al-Fārisī [e.g., the brother of the biographer al-Fārisī,
n.a.]. This enhanced the value of his teaching. His deception was
eventually discovered, however, by visitors to Nishapur who asked the historian al-Fārisī, the real son of Abū ʿAbd Allāh, about
118
his brother.
117 Qushayrī, Risāla, pp. 584-585; Gramlich, Sendschreiben, p. 544; Knysh, Epistle, p. 411.
118 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 50, n. 7, the episode is quoted from Fārisī, Mukhtaşar, p. 97.

278

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Qushayrī’s Sons and Daughters: Select Profiles
119

Abū Saʿd ʿAbd Allāh (d. 477/1084)

Qushayrī’s eldest son was born in 414/1023. According to Subkī, he accompanied his father to Baghdad when confrontations between the Ashʿarites
and the Sultan’s Vizir, Tughril Beg, ʿImād al-Mulk al-Kundurī, forced Qush120
ayrī and other major Shāfiʿī figures to leave Nishapur. His first biographer
was his own nephew, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir who, as quoted by Subkī, depicted Abū
Saʿd as a particularly gifted child who enjoyed a privileged relationship with
121
his father and basked in his father’s admiration for his talents. ʿAbd alGhāfir underlines the role played by the boy’s mastery of Arabic, a distinct ive trait of the Daqqāq-Qushayrī family, which indicates that such skills
122
were not commonplace in Nishapur at the time. As had his father, Abū
Saʿd combined the knowledge of traditional usūl and tafsīr sciences with the
ʿulūm al-haqīqa, the spiritual sciences of divine realities, in which “he cut
123
hairs” (yashuqqu al-shaʿr). He was responsible for an assembly of exhortation (majlis al-waʿz), which under him became a “garden of divine and
124
subtle realities” (rawdat al-haqāʾiq wa-l-daqāʾiq). Samʿānī details the balance between his outward knowledge and his interior spiritual state: “each
of his moments was outwardly employed in all purity [...] and interiorly in the
125
contemplation of the Truth and the decrees of the invisible world.” ʿAbd
Allāh led the prayer as imam at his father’s funeral; one of his elder brothers
126
in turn lead his funeral prayer in 477/1084, according to Fārisī’s report.
We know the name of three of his children: Abū l-Makārim ʿAbd al127
Razzāq (d. 531/1136), who received the title of “sūfī” and studied with his
119 Dhahabī, Taʾrīkh al-islām, XXXII, p. 195; Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 32b; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p.
173; Munāwī, al-Kawākib al-durriyya, II, p. 185; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 309-10; Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 68-69.
120 See Heinz Halm, “Der Wesir al-Kundurī und die fitna von Nišāpūr,” Die Welt des
Orients, 6/2, 1971, pp. 205-233; Tilman Nagel, Die Festung des Glaubens, pp. 85-108.
121 wa-kāna wāliduhu yuʿāmiluhu muʿāmala al-aqrān wa yahtarimuhu limā yarā ʿalahi
min al-tarīqa al-sāliha, Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 69.
122 “Such knowledge was not a general rule among the Khorasanian ascetics,” J. Chabbi,
“Abū ʿAlī Daqqāq,” Enc. Iranica.
123 Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 69.
124 Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 69.
125 Samaʿanī is quoted by Subkī, ibid. As we have seen, Samʿānī had traveled for extensive periods of time in Nishapur and had met members of the Qushayrī family.
126 Fārīsī, Mukhtasar, p. 173.
127 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 158; Samʿānī, al-Muntakhab min muʿjam shuyūkh alSamʿānī, ed. Muwaffaq b. ʿAbd Allāh, Riyadh, Dār ʿIlm al-Kutub, 1996, pp. 1053-1054.

279

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI
128

grandmother Fātima; Abū l-Barakāt ʿAbd al-Hamīd (d. 555 H.), who studied jurisprudence under Imam al-Haramayn al-Juwaynī; Amat al-Qāhir Jawhar al-Qushayrīya (d. 530 H.), mother of Saʿīd al-Shujāʿī, one of Samʿānī’s
129
masters. We find here the importance of daughters in Qushayrī’s family,
with the highly remarkable first name given to Qushayrī’s granddaughter.

Abū Saʿīd ʿAbd al-Wāhid (d. 494/1101)

130

It is Qushayrī who personally reported the date of birth for his second son,
ʿAbd al-Wāhid, in a testimonial by Samʿānī: “My son Abū Saʿīd was born in
131
the month of Safar of the year 418 [1027].” Shuyūkh masters could grant
their names to the children of fellow masters and Abū Saʿīd's birth must
have occurred during one of Master Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayr’s sojourns in
132
Nishapur. An episode conserved in this master’s hagiography renders this
hypothesis credible. The author of Asrār al-tawhid reports that Master Abū
Saʿīd gave his name to Qushayrī’s son, as a gift but also most certainly as a
blessing:
Pir Ahmad was Ostād Imam’s personal confidant, and a man of
great distinction. He has related: One night towards dawn, a son
was born to Ostād Imam, and Ostād received news of this event
in private. No member of Ostād’s khānaqāh was as yet informed,
and Ostād hat not yet chosen a name for the child. None of his
kinsmen and relatives knew it. Someone knocked at the khānaqāh door. Ostād Imam said: “That will be shaikh Bu Saʿid.” They
opened the door and the shaikh came in. He said to Ostād Imam:
“It has been made known to me that you have received a son, and
still have a name left. I bestow it upon him.” And the Shaikh
named him Bu Saʿid. In token of his gratitude, Ostād Imam gave
128 Sarīfīni, Muntakhab, p. 378; Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 158.
129 Samʿānī, Tahbīr, p. 399.
130 Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 52a; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, pp. 237-238; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 252;
Shahrazurī, Tabāqāt al-fuqahāʾ, II, p. 575; Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, pp. 225-228; Bulliet, The
Patricians, p. 154; Friydūn Garāyilī, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah, Tehran, Khāwarān,
1994, p. 508.
131 Akhbarnī Shihāb al-Hāʾimī bi-Hirā, qāla: samiʿtu Abā Saʿd b. al-Samʿānī yaqūl:
qaraʾtu ʿalā Abī l-Hasan [...] qāla: raytū bi-khatt Abī l-Qāsim al-Qushayrī: wulida ibnī
Abū Saʿīd fī Safar sanat 418, Ibn Najjār, Dhayl taʾrīkh Baghdād, 3 vols, I, p. 251. Date
confirmed by Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 238.
132 See F. Meier, Abū Sa'īd-i Abū l-Ḫayr, pp. 57 and 59, chap. “Das Ergebniss des Datierungsversuches,” an attempt to date the arrival of Shaykh Abū Saʿīd in Nishapur,
which confirms the plausibility of this episode.

280

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU
133

three banquets. And Khwāja Bu ʿAmr, who was Ostād Imam's
son-in-law and a man of distinction with wealth, gave forty ban134
quets in gratitude for this honor.
Nicknamed “pillar of Islam (rukn al-islām)”, Abū Saʿīd al-Qushayrī profoundly venerated his father, learned hadith from him, and completed his
scholarly training under his supervision. As was the case for his elder brother, sources highlighted his rhetorical capacities and his mastery of literature.
Fārisī and Subkī relate some of his poetic writings. For fifteen years, he was
the khatīb of Nishapur's al-Manīʿī mosque, taking over for Imām al-Haramayn al-Juwaynī. He was reputed to have never repeated a single khutba on
Fridays. Subkī says that he took particular care when setting down in writing the words and compositions of ʿAbd al-Karīm, his father: “The hāfiz Abū
Saʿd [al-Samʿānī] said that he took great pains when transcribing his father’s
135
sayings, as he did with his writings.” In the same vein, according to Ibn Najjār, he followed and imitated his father “in his movements and his tranquil136
lity.” Towards the end of his life, he undertook a second pilgrimage in
481/1089, and met Ibn Najjār in Baghdad, who mentions this in his Dhayl
137
138
taʾrīkh Baghdād. He was responsible for his family (sayyid ʿashīratihi).
139
He took over for his father in the teaching of the hadith (majlis al-imlāʾ).
133 Though Achena did not identify this person, it was certainly Qushayrī Abu ʿAmr
ʿAbd al-Wahhāb al-Sulamī’s cousin and son-in-law, husband to his daughter, Karīma
al-Kubrā, see our family tree.
134 E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, pp. 157-158; Etapes mystiques,
pp. 94-95. This episode was amplified by ʿAttār in his Tadhkira when he quotes the
Asrār al-tawhid. He adds that the newborn, still in his cradle, was already endowed
with mystical states, this thanks to Abū Saʿīd's blessing, cf. ʿAttār, Tadhkira, Arabic.
transl., p. 765.
135 wa-qāla l-hāfiz Abū Saʿd: kāna dhā ʿināya bi-taqyīd anfās wālidihi wa fawā’idihi
Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 226.
136 iqtadā bi-harakātihi wa sakanātihi, Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, p. 248.
137 Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, p. 250.
138 The term ʿashīra is rather complex, see Jean Lecerf’s article, “ʿAshīra,” Enc. Islam 2, I,
p. 700. It should be noted that Subkī is the only biographer to use it to designate Hibat al-Rahmān, (Tabaqāt, V, p. 226) several centuries after the death of Hibat al-Rahmān.
139 According to Subkī, who quotes ʿAbd al-Ghāfir, in the Nizāmiyya madrasa. Bulliet
(The Patrican, p. 154) wonders about the truth of Qushayrī’s son handling a nobler
responsibility than that of his father. Subkī attests to a transmission through imlā’ʾ
by Abū Saʿīd al-Qushayrī to his grandson. “[...] akhbarnā Hibat al-Rahman b. ʿAbd
al-Wāhid al-Qushayrī imlāʾan haddathanā al-imām rukn al-islām wālidī imlāʾan
[...].” Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 273. A list of his disciples of hadith in Farūnzānfar, Tarjumah-i Risāla-i Qushayriyyah, pp. 53-55.

281

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

In addition to the analysis of the transmission of the hadith (takhrīj), the semantic explanation of linguistic difficulties (tashkīl), he accompanied a spiritual reading based on the search for spiritual meaning and mystical allu140
sions, by embellishing his lessons with Sufi narratives (hikayāt) and verses
of poetry. This was the same method used by his father to transmit the
hadith. Both Sārīfīnī and Ibn Salāh al-Shahrazūrī affirm that while his father
was still alive, Abū Saʿīd never dared to teach the Mystical Path and its sub141
tleties, as a sign of respect for his father ʿAbd al-Karīm (ihtirāman lahu). A
142
biographic source quoted by Farūzānfar in his introduction to Qushayrī’s
Risāla attests to Abū Saʿīd’s holiness:
ʿAbd al-Wāhid b. Abī l-Qāsim al-Qushayrī, may God sanctify
their secrets, accompanied his father and belonged to the learned
men and saints, by distinguishing himself (nihrīran) in all sorts of
sciences. Among the saints of Nishapur, his degree of scrupulous143
ness was imposing, his kunya was Abū Saʿīd.
We know the names of three of Abū Saʿīd’s sons – therefore three of Qushayrī’s grandsons: Abū Sālih ʿAbd al-Malik, killed when the Turkish tribes of
144
Ghuzz devastated Nishapur in 555/1160; Abū l-Mahāsin ʿAbd al-Mamā145
jid, father of Abū Muhammad ʿAbd al-Wāhid (d. 559/1164 in Shahrastān),
146
as well an active muhaddith in Baghdad and Aleppo; and finally Abū l-

140 wa-qāla ʿAbd al-Ghāfir: [...] yastanbitu al-maʿānī wa l-ishārāt, wa-yuzayyinuhā bi-lhikāyāt wa l-abyāt, Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, p. 227.
141 Sārīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 370; Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ, II, p. 577.
142 The Mushajjara by Sayyid Muhammad Nūrbakhsh. Concerning this text, see above.
143 Badīʿ al-Zamān Farūzānfar, Tarjumah-i Risāla-i Qushayriyyah, p. 53.
144 He studied hadith with his father and grandmother Fātima. He transmitted Sufi texts
and hadiths to Samʿānī in Tūs. Samʿānī, Muntakhab muʿjam al-shuyūkh, p. 1125.
145 Or ʿAbd al-Mājid according to Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, p. 202. Bulliet, The Patricians, p.
158. The author of the “History of Qazwīn” states that ʿAbd al-Mājid transmitted the
Risāla of Qushayrī with an ijāza of his grandfather. ʿAbd al-Karīm b. Muhammad b.
ʿAbd al-Karīm, Abū l-Qāsim al-Rāfiʿī al-Qazwīnī (d. 623H), al-Tadwīn fī akhbār
Qazwīn, ed. ʿAzīz Allāh al-ʿAtāridī, 4 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1987, II,
p. 352. ʿAbd al- Mājid was also the one who trasmitted to Abū al-Qāsim ʿAlī b. Ismāʿīl b. al-Hasan a handwritten copy of his grandfather Qushayrī’s fatwa of Dhū alQaʿda 436/May-June 1045 in defense of Abū l-Hasan al-Ashʿarī, who in turn transmitted it to Ibn ʿAsākir. Cf. Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, pp. 112-114. This text has been
translated by M. Nguyen, The Confluence, pp. 416-419.
146 Ibn al-ʿAdīm, Bughyat al-talab fī tāʾrīkh Halab, ed. Sahīl Zakkār, 12 vols., Damascus,
Dār al-Fikr, 1988-9, II, p. 1003; Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, pp. 252-253.

282

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Asʿad Hibat al-Rahmān (d. 540/1146 or 546/1152 according to Samʿānī, who
147
met him).
148
Abū Saʿīd al-Qushayrī’s third son was born in 460/1068; Hibat al-Rahmān was a venerated Sufi master and among Qushayrī descendants, he was
the only one – though a later source also includes his uncle, Abū l-Muzaffar,
see infra – whose direct spiritual affiliation transmitted by Qushayrī was
149
known. He owned a khirqa that came directly from his grandfather. This
last fact appeared in Ibn Salāh al-Shahrazūrī’s testimony (d. 653/1245), who
had received this initiatic investiture by Abū l-Hasan b. Muʾayyad b.
Muhammad al-Tūsī. According to Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūtī, Ibn Salāh apparently stated:
I possess an investiture of the khirqa whose chain of transmission
150
is extremely “elevated” (isnād ʿalī jiddan). Abū l-Hasan b.
Muʾayyad b. Muhammad al-Tūsī clad me with the khirqa and
said, ‘I received the khirqa from Abū l-Asʿad Hibat al-Rahmān b.
ʿAbd al-Wāhid b. ʿAbd al-Karīm Abū l-Qāsim al-Qushayrī.’ [Abu
l-Asʿad Hibat al-Rahmān] said, ‘I received the khirqa from my
grandfather, who received it from Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq, who received it from Abū l-Qāsim Ibrāhīm b. Muhammad al-Nasrabādhī’
151
[...]

147 Sārīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 525; Samʿānī, Tahbīr, II, p. 369; Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 329; Ibn
Najjār, Mustafād min dhayl taʾrīkh Baghdād, pp. 251-253; F. Garāyilī, Niyshābūr
shahr-i fīrūzah, p. 511; Farūzānfar, Tarjumah-i Risāla-i Qushayriyyah, p. 62, quotes a
small biographical notice by Sayyid Muhammad Nūrbakhsh (cf. supra), that attests
to the holiness of Hibat al-Rahmān.
148 Dhahabī, Siyar aʿlām al-nubalāʾ, ed. Shuʿayb Arnaʿūt and Muhammad Naʿīm al-ʿArqsūsī, Beirut, Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1996, XX, p. 181.
149 If the dates at our disposal are correct, Hibat al-Rahmān was no older than 5 when
he donned Qushayrī’s khirqa, as he was born in 460 H. and Qushayrī died in 465 H.
150 On the concept of “elevation” (ʿulw, irtifāʿ) in hadith, see Eerik Dickinson, “Ibn alSalāh al-Shahrazūrī and the Isnād,” Journal of the American Oriental Society, 122/3,
2002, pp. 481-505.
151 Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūtī, Taʾyīd al-haqīqa al-ʿaliyya fī tashyīd al-tarīqat al-shādhiliyya,
ed. ʿAbd Allāh b. Muhammad b. Al-Siddīq al-Ghumārī, Cairo, 1994, p. 13; id., Taʾyīd
al-haqīqa al-ʿaliyya fī tashyīd al-tarīqat al-shādhiliyya, ed. ʿAbd al-Khāliq Mahmūd
ʿAbd al-Khāliq and Ahmad Jumʿa ʿAbd al-Hamīd, in Aʿmāl al-kāmila li-l-Suyūtī fī altasawwuf al-islāmī, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2012, I, p. 45 See
Denis Gril, “De la khirqa à la tarīqa: Continuité et évolution dans l’identification et
la classification des voies,” in Rachida Chih and Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, eds., Le
Soufisme à l’époque ottomane / Sufism in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut Français
d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, p. 76.

283

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

A second testimony, which dates much further back than that of Suyūtī,
confirms the initiatic function of Hibat al-Rahmān. Indeed, it would seem
that he invested his khirqa in his ribāt in Nishapur Radī al-Dīn al-Talaqānī
152
(d. 590/1194), one of ʿUmar al-Suhrawardī’s masters. Even though Qushayrī barely mentioned lubs al-khirqa to designate the transmission of the
153
Path, these two testimonies prove that, beyond the terminology used,
Qushayrī delegated a spiritual function to his grandson Hibat al-Rahmān.
The role of spiritual director of Hibat al-Rahmān is also proven by an
anecdote in the Asrār al-tawhīd, in which Hibat al-Rahmān speaks of the
economic problems encountered in running the khānaqāh/madrasa he in154
herited from his family. Finally, Florian Sobieroj discovered in Ibn al-Mulaqqin’s Tabaqāt al-awliyāʾ, in the chapter describing the author’s chains of
spiritual investment (salāsil lubs al-khirqa), the description of Qushayrī's investment of Hibat al-Rahmān with the khirqa. The scene is highly imaginative, taking place in a public bath, and shows the need to reconstruct, after
the fact, (Ibn al-Mulaqqin died in 804/1401 and was a pupil of Subkī) a narrative encompassing issues raised by the chains of khirqa transmission and
155
initiation, that were later fully discussed by Suyūtī and Murtadā al-Zabīdī:
It was said that [Hibat al-Rahmān] was five years old. [Hibat alRahmān] said: “He [=Qushayrī] led me to a public bath, he sat me
down on his lap and shaved my head. He began the initiatic
transmission (laqqananī), by saying, ‘Repeat: I am a beggar, son of
a beggar. So were my father and grandfather.’ He went on to a
second transmission by reciting [these lines of poetry]:
His desire reached me before I even knew desire
He found an empty heart and settled decisively in.
152 Erik Ohlander, Sufism in the Age of Transition. ʿUmar al-Suhrawardī and the Rise of
Islamic Mystical Brotherhoods, Leiden, Brill, 2008, p. 91. On him and on the khirqa he
received from Hibat al-Rahmān, called “his Master in the Sufi Path”, see Qazwinī,
Tadwīn, II, p. 144 and ff.
153 As we saw it above, Qushayrī speaks of akhdh al-tarīq, taking the mystical path
from a Master. Florian Sobieroj has edited a new text of Qushayrī in which, on the
contrary, he mentions the lubs al-khirqa (wearing a blue mantel) as a practise among
the sufis of his time and gives some rules about it and discusses the role of colors.
See F. Sobieroj, Die Responsensammlung Abū l-Qāsim al-Qušairī´s über das Sufitum.
Kritische Edition der ʿUyūn al-aǧwiba fī funūn al-asʾila, Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz
Verlag, 2012, masʾala 56 and 57, pp. 36-37.
154 E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, p. 567.
155 See Gril, “De la khirqa à la tarīqa”.

284

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Qushayrī dressed him [with the khirqa] of Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq, of
Abū l-Qāsim Ibrahīm b. Muhammad b. Hamawayh al-Nasrābādhī,
156
of Shiblī, of Junayd.
This episode, unprecedented in hagiographic literary tradition concerning
the Qushayrīs, does show that even centuries after their deaths, their family
unit resonated with Sufi authors and that this family unit also reflected the
modes of spiritual transmission. The second initiation (talqīn) is even more
noteworthy since it is based on the spiritual power of poetry. The poem
quoted by Ibn Mulaqqin and ascribed to Qushayrī explains the practise of
initiating children to Sufism: their empy hearts will be fertile soil for later
spiritual accomplishments. This episode, written centuries after the fact, reminds us of how Qushayrī cared for his grandchildren. A more historical description of Qushayrī’s relationship with his grandson can be found in the
memoirs of ʿAbd Ghāfir al-Fārisī. In his entry on Abū ʿAlī al-Maʿīnī (d.
463/1071), he relates how his grandfather Qushayrī used to bring him to the
157
majlis of al-Maʿīnī, who prayed for him.
Samʿānī also reports vestiges of Hibat al-Rahmān’s teachings in Nishapur (tadhākir). Quoted by Ibn Salāh, Samʿānī reports Hibat al-Rahmān’s en158
counter with the shaykh ʿAbd al-Malik al-Tabarī in Mecca. More details
about Hibat al-Rahmān intellectual and spiritual activities have been un159
covered by Florian Sobieroj in his edition of Qushayrī’s ʿUyūn al-ajwiba.
Sobieroj underlines Hibat al-Rahmān’s narrative material, which can be
found in the “History of Aleppo” (Bughyat al-talab fī tāʾrīkh Halab) written
by Kamāl al-Dīn ʿUmar b. Ahmad Hibat Allāh b. ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, known as Ibn
al-ʿAdīm (d. 660/1261). Ibn ʿAdīm received material from the Risāla al-qushayriyya by chains of transmission in which Hibat al-Rahmān is often quot ed, along with Qushayrī’s last son, Abū l-Muzaffar. The presence of Ibn ʿAlī
160
al-Tūsī al-Muʾayyad in this chain of transmissions between Hibat al-Rahmān and Ibn ʿAdīm is of note. This individual is perhaps the same Muʾayyad
al-Tūsī that clad Ibn Salāh al-Shahrazūrī with the khirqa of Hibat al-Rahmān.
156 Ibn Mulaqqin, Tabaqāt al-awliyāʾ, ed. Mustafā ʿAbd al-Qādir ʿAtā, Beirut, 1998,
p. 322. Translation based on a German translation by F. Sobieroj, Die Responsensammlung Abū l-Qāsim al-Qušairī’s, pp. 5-6.
157 wa-laqad hamalanī al-imām zayn al-islām jaddī ilā majlisihi fa-niltu bayna yadayhi
fadlan wa-duʿāʾan, Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 53.
158 Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ, II, p. 571.
159 F. Sobieroj, Die Responsensammlung Abū l-Qāsim al-Qušairī’s, pp. 5-6.
160 Ibn ʿAdīm, Bughya, IX, p. 4214; F. Sobieroj, ibid.

285

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Hibat al-Rahmān also received three other authorisations from his
grandfather, Qushayrī. The first was an ijāza (certificate of audition) of the
161
162
Risāla. The second was an ijāza in hadith, which was taught according
to his father and grandfather's method, with the accompanying spiritual al163
lusions and poetic verses. Third, Hibat al-Rahmān also received and transmitted to Samʿānī one of Qushayrī's text, entitled ʿUyūn al-ajwiba fī funūn
164
al-asʾila. Hibat al-Rahmān was himself the author of a collection of forty
hadith entitled Kitāb al- ‘arbaʿīn al-subāʿiyyāt, as certified by an ijāza ob165
tained by the scholar Abū Hafs Sirāj al-Dīn al-Qazwīnī (d. 750 H.).
Hibat al-Rahmān’s young age at the death of Qushayrī (5 years old) certainly raised doubts in certain authors concerning his authorisations. Ibn
Najjār then Dhahabī severely criticised the fact that he had “claimed” (iddaʿā) his grandfather’s certificate of audition and both affirm that in reality,
166
he possessed only the ijāzāt in hadith. The transmission of a certificate of
audition to young children was in reality commonplace throughout the Islamic world. Eerik Dickinson has presented the debate on this question in a
167
specific study.
Hibat al-Rahmān, in turn, had two sons: Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Hasan (d.
161 MS. Ayasofia 1817, see Helmut Ritter, “Philologika XIII: Arabische Handschriften in
Anatolien und İstanbul (Fortsetzung),” Oriens, 3/1, 1950, pp. 31-107.
162 Qushayrī, Amālī al-Qushayrī, MS. Maktabat al-Asad, Damas, microfilm “2 tāʾ 1135”,
fols. 107-18. In fol. 107, it is written: “juʾz fīhi muntaqā amālī Abī l-Qāsim ʿAbd alKarim b. Hawāzim al-Qushayrī. Riwāya Abī l-Asʿad Hibat al-Rahmān b. ʿAbd alWāhid b. ʿAbd al-Karīm, wa fīhi ghayr dhālika [...].”
163 Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 274.
164 Samʿānī, Tahbīr II, pp. 369-370. See Florian Sobieroj, “Funktionen von Dichtung in
al-Qušairīs K. ʿUyūn al-aǧwiba. Ein sufischer Diskurs über die Liebe (mahabba),” in
Shabo Talay and Hartmut Bobzin, eds., Arabische Welt: Grammatik, Dichtung und
Dialekte : Beiträge einer Tagung in Erlangen zu Ehren von Wolfdietrich Fischer, Wiesbaden, Reichert, 2010, pp. 179-206.
165 Abū Hafs Sirāj al-Dīn al-Qazwīnī, Mashaykha al-qazwīnī, ed. ʿĀmir Hasan Sabrī, Beirut, Dār al-Bashāʾir al-Islāmiyya, 2005, p. 468. The same book, which is a collection
of ijāzāt of the author, indicates that Hibat al-Rahmān disseminated other important
works, such as the collection of texts by Abū Ishāq al-Isfarāyīnī (Qazwīnī, Mashaykha, p. 503).
166 Dhahabī, Siyar, XX, p. 181; Ibn Najjār, Mustafād, p. 252.
167 Ibn Salāh and Dhahabī do not share this opinion: “Ibn al-Salah admits that in practice a student had to be only five years old to be credited with audition, irrespective
of the stage of mental development he had reached by that age. This threshold was
derived from a hadith in which a Companion claims to remember the Prophet
squirting water in his face when he was either four or five [...] A century after the
death of Ibn al-Salah, the elderly Dhahabi worked himself into a paroxysm of rage
over what he called ‘the intoxication of audition’,” Eerik Dickinson, “Ibn al-Salāh alShahrazūrī and the Isnād,” pp. 498 and 502.

286

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

549/1154) and Abū Khalaf ʿAbd al-Rahmān (d. 559/1154), who studied hadith
with his uncles and his father. He took over the Nishapur’s khatīb office
168
after his father’s death.

Abū Mansūr ʿAbd al-Rahmān (d. 482/1089)

169

Qushayrī’s third son was born in 420/1029. According to Bulliet, Abū Mansūr led a life removed from official teaching positions. Subkī never does
mention an official charge that he may have undertaken during his lifetime.
He was trained in the hadith by his father and travelled with the latter and
his older brothers to Baghdad where he continued his studies. He returned a
second time for a pilgrimage in 471/1079, period during which he taught
hadith. He remained in Nishapur until Fātima, his mother, died in 480/1087,
before going to Baghdad a third time in an attempt to accomplish the hajj.
He settled in Mecca and died there in 482/1089. He also travelled to Merv
170
and Sarakhs. According to Samʿānī he undertook pilgrimages to saints’
171
shrines (mashāhid). Fārisī states that he was the third of Abū ʿAlī alDaqqāq’s three grandsons, thus confirming the possibility that the younger
172
brothers did not share the same mother with the three first brothers. Then
he highlights the relationships with his two elder brothers, “They grew up in
the same household and drank at the same source, [...] they never separated, in
173
hardship or prosperity, night and day [....]”. Abū Mansūr was also engaged
in the transmission of Sufi narratives and poetry. Fārisī quotes an anecdote
174
about the Sufi Shiblī that his uncle Abū Mansūr passed down to him.
His own son, Abū l-Futūh ʿAbd al-Samad, travelled widely and assumed
175
the position of Nasaf's khatīb.

168 Dhahabī, Taʾrīkh al-islām, XXXVIII, p. 285; Samʿānī, Muntakhab muʿjam al-shuyūkh,
pp. 1022-1023; Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 159; F. Garāyilī, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah,
p. 512.
169 Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 51b-52a; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, pp. 208-210; Munāwī, al-Kawākib aldurriyya, II, p. 186; Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ, I, p. 533; Subkī, Tabaqāt, V, pp.
105-106; Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 154-155; F. Garāyilī, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah,
p. 515.
170 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 209.
171 Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ, I, p. 533.
172 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 208; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 347.
173 Fārisī, ibid.
174 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 209.
175 Nasaf (arab. Nakhshab), today known as Qarshi or Karshi in Uzbekistan, in the
province of Bukhāra, see Vladimir Minorsky, “Nakh
J JsJhJab,” Enc. Islam 2, VII, p. 295;
Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 158.

287

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Abū Nasr ʿAbd al-Rahīm (d. 1120/514)

176

177

Born before 434/1043, Abū Nasr is surely the most complex figure of the
second generation of Qushayrīs. Of all the brothers, he left behind the most
178
written works. Abū Nasr’s close ties with his father are illustrated by a remark made by Suyūtī in his Taʾyīd, in the account of one of Qushayrī’s pilgrimages. The latter had been elected spokesperson for a delegation of over
four hundred notable Muslims and was invited to give a speech to those in
attendance. Subkī clearly specifies that, “Abū Nasr was there [at his side],
179
amongst religious authorities.” ʿAbd al-Ghafīr al-Fārisī, quoted by Ibn
ʿAsākir, underlines the role of the father in Abū Nasr's education:
Master Abū al-Hasan b. Ismāʿīl al-Fārisī wrote to me: ʿAbd alRahīm b. ʿAbd al-Karīm b. Hawāzin al-Qushayrī Abū Nasr: guide
of guides, splendour of the community of believers, [...] was
among [Qushayrī’s children], the one who physically resembled
him the most, to such an extent that it could be said that he had
emanated from him (shuqqa minhu shaqqan). He received the best
education from his father and learned from his mouth, during his
childhood, the Arabic language, until the day he acquitted himself
of this training by distinguishing himself through his perfect
mastery of the language in prose and poetry, two fields in which
180
he attained a dazzling victory. His pen, through its subtleties,
spread enchantment; he attained abundant knowledge in the science of usūl and of exegesis, sciences transmitted by his father
(talaqiyyan min wālidihi). He was gifted with exceptionally rapidity in his writings [...]. Upon his father’s death, he joined Imām
al-Haramayn al-Juwaynī’s assembly, by assiduously assisting his
classes and by accompanying him night and day, never leaving
him, neither in the morning nor in the evening. He then learned
176 Dāwūdī, Shams al-Dīn, Tabaqāt al-mufassirīn, 2 vols. Beirut, Dār al-Kutub alʿIlmiyya, 1983, I, pp. 298-299; Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 45b-46a; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, pp. 215216; Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 308; Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, pp. 159-166, Bulliet, Patricians, p.
155; F. Garāyilī, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah, p. 515; Qazwīnī, Tadwīn, III, pp. 169-170.
177 H. Halm, “KusJhJayrī”, Enc. Islam 2, V, p. 526.
178 Fārisī states that Qushayrī granted Abū Nasr a special position (yuqaddimihu bayna
aqrānihi), Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 215.
179 Jalāl al-Dīn al-Suyūtī, Taʾyīd al-haqīqa, ed. ʿAbd al-Khāliq Mahmūd ʿAbd al-Khāliq
and Ahmad Jumʿa ʿAbd al-Hamīd, op. cit., 1, p. 106.
180 Lit. qasb al-sabaq, “the reed of victory in a horse race.” For more on this expression,
see Lane, Arabic-English Lexicon, p. 2529.

288

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

his method of jurisprudence and in disputed legal questions
181
(tariqatahu fī l-madhhab wa l-khilāf) [...].
This note is confirmed in Abū Nasr’s literary production. His mastery of the
Arabic language and poetry is proven by poetic compositions quoted by,
182
among others, Fārisī and Subkī. The transmission of exegetic materials is
proven by the composition of an original tafsīr by Abū Nasr entitled al183
Taysīr (fī ʿilm) al-tafsīr. Even though only incomplete sections remain of
184
this tafsīr, Qurtubī (d. 671/1272) knew of it and quoted it in his al-Jāmiʿ liahkām al-qurʾān. In one of the passages of the al-Jāmiʿ, Abū Nasr explicitly
185
quotes his father as a direct source. Abū Nasr also received a certificate of
audition of Qushayrī’s Risāla, which he transmitted in turn to Muhammad
Abū l-Fadl al-Hamadhānī, who in turn transmitted it to Najm al-Dīn al186
Kubrā, who authorised Majd al-Dīn al-Baghdādī (d. 616/1219). Moreover,
according to Abū l-Qāsim al-Qazwīnī in his “History of Qazwīn,” Abū Nasr
transmitted with an ijāza two other texts from his father: the commentary
187
on the Divine Names (al-Tahbīr), and the Book of Forty Hadith (k. al-Ar188
baʿūn hadīthan).
Abū Nasr compiled his father's quotes in a volume entitled K. al-Shawāhid wa-l-amthāl, which represented a brand new source on Qushayrī’s
189
life and doctrine. The text, most probably compiled after the death of his
father, starts with praise that the son addressed to his father:
181 Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, p. 308.
182 Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, pp. 163-165.
183 MS. Garrett H 643, see Philip K. Hitti, Nabih Amin Faris and Butrus ‘Abd al-Malik,
Descriptive Catalog of the Garrett Collection of Arabic Manuscripts in the Princeton
University Library, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1938, pp. 386-387.
184 Ahmad b. Abī BakrRoger Arnaldez, “al-Ḳurtubī, Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muhammad b. b.
FaradJj J al-Ansārī al-ḴhJazradJjīJ al-Andalusī,” Enc. Islam 2, V, p. 512.
185 wa-qāla al-Qushayrī Abū Nasr: wa kāna al-imām wālidī rahimahu Allāh yaqūl [...],
Al-Qurtubī, al-Jāmiʿ li-ahkām al-tafsīr, ed. ʿAbd Allāh b. ʿAbd al-Muhsin al-Turkī,
Beirut, al-Risāla, I, p. 455 (Qur’ān 2, 35).
186 Gramlich, Sendschreiben, p. 17. See also Fritz Meier, Die Fawāʾih al-ğamāl wa-fawātih
al-ğalāl des Nağm ad-Dīn al-Kubrā. Eine Darstellung mystischer Erfahrungen im Islam aus der Zeit um 1200 N. Chr. Herausgegeben und erläutert von Fritz Meier, Wiesbaden, Franz Steiner Verlag, 1957, p. 13.
187 Qazwīnī, Tadwīn, II, p. 165. The “History of Qazwīn” offers some other details on
Abū Nasr’s intellectual life. For instance, it mentions letters that he exchanged with
Ahmad b. Muhammad al-Qazwīnī, a renowned man of knowledge. Qazwīnī, Tadwīn,
II, p. 258.
188 Qazwīnī, Tadwīn, III, p. 44.
189 MS. Ayasofia 4128, mentioned by Helmut Ritter, “Philologika XIII: Arabische Handschriften in Anatolien und İstanbul (Fortsetzung),” Oriens, 3/1, 1950, pp. 51-52.

289

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Imām Abū Nasr ʿAbd al-Rahīm said, ‘It came to me that I must
write what I had heard from my father, the guide and martyr
190
(may God be satisfied with him!), based on notes taken of his
words, his poetic quotes (shawāhid), his anecdotes (amthāl). He
was the language of the Real and its interpreter, to the point
where he was the ocean that cannot go dry and the learned man
191
(habr) whose depth can neither be perceived nor known.
This text was known to Abū Nasr’s contemporaries, especially Ibn ʿAsākir,
192
whom he quotes in Tabyīn. Why did Abū Nasr play such a particular role
in the transmission of paternal intellectual heritage and not his brothers? As
we will see in the following paragraphs, one possible hypothesis lies in his
relationship with Nizām al-Mulk and the breadth of his influence at the very
heart of the Caliphal capital, which allowed Abū Nasr to affirm himself as
an eminent member of the Qushayrī family. In regards to his older brothers,
he had lived sensibly longer with their father and compared to his little
brothers, Abū Nasr had enjoyed deeper training from his father. He was
therefore a “median” figure between the brothers. He also perhaps inaugurated a second, non-Daqqāqī line of Qushayrīs (he was probably not Fātima’s
son, as we saw earlier), a second line that succeeded in prolonging Qushayrī’s descendants relative to the works of Qushayrī’s three first sons. This
said, it is difficult to affirm that roles were distributed among the brothers,
as he was not the only one to have written down his father’s words, even
though the works of his brothers have not survived to this day.
Nizām al-Mulk invited Abū Nasr to Baghdad in 469/1077 to hold waʿz
sessions (public sermons) at the madrasa Nizāmiyya. His sermons, with
193
their Ashʿārī bent, elicited protestations by the Hanbalīs. It started with a
riot (taʿassub) between Hanbalī tendencies that were hostile to the interpretative Ashʿārī kalām and the partisans of the latter, whose presence in Bagh190 Mojtaba Shahsavari suggests translating the term al-Imam al-Shahīd with “Grand
Master”. Mojtaba Shahsavari, “Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī and his Kitāb al-Shawāhid wal-amthāl,” Isharāq, 3, 2012, p. 295.
191 Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī, Kitāb al-shawāhid wa-l-amthāl, MS. Ayasofia 4128, fol. 3b.
192 For a comparison of both texts, as well as for a list of Abū Nasr’s writings, see my
study: “The Spiritual and Physical Progeny of ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī: A Preliminary Study in Abū Nasr al-Qushayrīs (d. 514/1120) Kitāb al-Shawāhid wa-l-Amthāl,”
Journal of Sufi Studies, 2/1, 2013, pp. 46–77.
193 The reasons and the scenario of these confrontations have been described in detail
by George Makdisi, Ibn ʿAqīl et la résurgence de l’islam traditionaliste au XIe siècle,
Damascus, Institut Français de Damas, 1963, pp. 350-366.

290

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

dad was perceived as an intrusion by a Nishapurian intellectual movement
in the Caliphal capital. Subkī, in praise addressed to Abu Nasr, affirms “how
many sinners have performed acts of contrition by taking part in his majlis,
194
and how many miscreants have returned to God instantly [...]!” The Baghdad incidents in 1077 were also rooted in parades in the city that followed
Jewish conversions during Abū Nasr’s sermons. One of these parades was
the theatre of a riot that ended in the assassination of a Hanbalī partisan.
Nizām al-Mulk thus called Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī to Isfahan and ordered him
to go back to Nishapur. We can trace him to a miraculous event that took
place at Mecca, surely during his pilgrimages:
I fell gravely ill at Mecca; I was scared to the point of despairing
over whether I could save my life. A Shaykh from Mecca came to
see me without having been asked. I did not know him. In his
hands, he held the keys to the Kaʿba. He belonged to the Banū
Shayba tribe, the guardians of the Holy House. He told me, ‘Open
your mouth!’ I did so and he inserted the key and turned it, he
then carefully and tenderly massaged my arms and legs with the
195
keys. I was finally rid of the illness.
We find him later in his hometown as he leads the funeral prayer for
196
Ahmad b. al-Husayn al-Rāzī in 511/1117. Two years before his death, we
have evidence of his work transmitting the hadith in his home in Nisha197
pur. It is said that Abū Nasr was paralysed before his death and that despite his illness, he was still capable of reciting the Qur’ān and of performing
198
the dhikr. His younger brother, Abū l-Muzaffar, led the funeral prayer of
199
Abū Nasr. Hagiographic tradition would link his memory to his activities
as exegete and theologian. Farīd al-Dīn al-ʿAttar in his Tadhkira al-awliyāʾ
quotes commentary by Abū Nasr on a remark by Bistāmī, placing him
200
amongst the spiritual masters.
Abū Nasr had three daughters who transmitted hadiths to Samʿānī: Sāra

194
195
196
197

Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 160.
Ibn ʿAsākir, Tabyīn, pp. 309-310.
Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 126.
[...] akhbarnā rukn al-islām Abū Nasr ʿAbd al-Rahīm b. ʿAbd al-Karīm Abī l-Qāsim alQushayrī fī muharram sana 512 bi-dārihi bi-naysābūr [...]. Subkī, Tabaqāt, I, p. 118.
198 Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 162.
199 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 216.
200 ʿAttār, Tadhkirat al-awliyāʾ, ed. Nicholson, I, pp. 155-156.

291

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI
201

202

Amat al-Rahmān, Hurra Amat al-Rahīm al-Qushayriyya (d. 534/1139),
spouse to ʿUmar b. Abī Nasr al-Saffār, who after her death would marry her
203
younger sister Jalīla Amat Allāh (d. 541/1147). ʿUmar al-Saffār belonged to
the Qushayrī-Fārisī family; he was the grandson of the daughter of Qushayrī
Karīma, the latter was also mother to ʿAbd al-Ghāfir al-Fārisī, the biograph204
er. He too transmitted and taught a text by his father-in-law, Abū Nasr.
Ibn Najjār’s Dhayl recounts that in Baghdad, probably in 543/1149, date of
his pilgrimage, the respected faqīh, ʿUmar al-Saffār, transmitted Abū Nasr’s
205
treatise of Qur’ānic exegesis, the Taysīr fī l-tafsīr. This union between the
Qushayrī, Saffār, and Fārisī families confirms the close ties that remained at
the heart of the network between patrician families.
We have the name of only one of Abū Nasr’s sons: Abū l-Qāsim Fadl
206
Allāh ʿAbd al-Karīm (d. 518/1125). He was educated by his father. The
Siyāq tells us that his father prevented him from dedicating himself to a life
of celibacy and joining the futuwwa movement. We have here proof of intra-family oppositions to the models of sanctity to be adopted within the
family. It is remarkable that hagiography has preserved the account instead
of erasing it. It should be noted that the Qushayrī family did not consider
the futuwwa to be a separate movement, but rather included it within the
tasawwuf, which absorbed it. The futuwwa that Abū Nasr disapproved of
207
must have been a different form of initiation.

Abū l-Fath ʿUbayd Allāh (d. 521/1127)

208

Qushayrī’s fifth son was born in 444/1052. Of all of Qushayrī’s children, he
was the only one to be defined as a “sūfī”. Fārisī states he was inclined to
201
202
203
204
205

Samʿānī, Muntakhab, p. 1886; Samʿānī, Tahbīr, II, p. 413.
Samʿānī, Tahbīr, II, p. 402; Samʿānī, Muntakhab, p. 1875.
Samʿānī, Muntakhab, p. 1873; Tahbīr, II, p. 400.
Another instance of endogamy in the Qushayrī-Fārisī-Saffār family.
Ibn al-Najjār, Dhayl taʾrīkh Baghdād, 5 vol., ed. Mustafā ʿAbd al-Qādir Yahyā, Beirut,
Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1997, V, p. 22. This was confirmed by the isnād of transmission of one of this tafsīr’s MS. Feyzullah Efendi 89, fol. 1b: “akhbārnā al-shaykh
al-imām Abū Hafs ʿUmar b. Ahmad b. Mansūr al-Saffār al-Naysābūrī [...] qāla: akhbārnā khālī ummī al-shaykh al-imām [...] Abū Nasr ʿAbd al-Rahīm b. ʿAbd al-Karīm
b. Hawāzim al-Qushayrī [...].”
206 Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 76a; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 456; Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 158.
207 We should note that the editor of the printed edition of the Siyāq read tafattī, which
in any case is derived from the ideal of the futuwwa. Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 341.
208 Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 192; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 326; Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ,
II, p. 585; Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 207; Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 155; Ibn Najjār, Dhayl,
I, pp. 163-166; II, pp. 78-79.

292

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

mysticism. His title was probably bestowed upon him because he authored
209
210
works on Sufism (wa lahu musannifāt fī l-tarīqa). He lived in Merv as
well as Isfarayn, probably with his son Abū l-Maʿālī ʿAbd al-Karīm (d.
559/1164), where he died. He memorised his father’s books, as well his po211
etry. Samʿānī met the latter in Ispahan in 537/1143 and received, among
other things, the certificate of audition of Sulamī’s Ādāb al-sūfiyya. He was
killed by the Shi‘as (rawāfida) in 559/1164. Abū l-Maʿālī also officiated as
212
khatīb in the Masjid al-Jadīd in Nishapur.
213
In an episode of the Asrār al-tawhīd, Abū l-Maʿālī ʿAbd al-Karīm recounts first hand a visit to Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayr’s khānaqāh, several
years after the latter’s death, during a commemorative meal. Abū l-Maʿālī
was present with his paternal uncles and his father, Abū l-Fath, who started
to talk with Fakhr al-Islām Abū l-Qāsim, son of Imām al-Haramayn alJuwaynī. The latter made an unjust remark against the Sufis invited to the
meal and Abu l-Fath urged him to be more prudent in his speech. A miracu lous event then took place. A female cat entered the khānaqāh, sniffed each
guest, arrived at Fakhr al-Islām and urinated on him. Juwaynī’s son stormed
out of the assembly. The masters in attendance looked to Abū Saʿd al-Qushayrī for commentary on what just took place. Abū Saʿd explained that it was
a miracle by Master Abū Saʿīd. The episode is remarkable. First, it shows the
Qushayrīs together, invited to a commemorative meal in honour of Master
Abū Saʿīd. It also demonstrates that Abū Saʿd al-Qushayrī is regarded as the
most venerable master of the assembly. Furthermore, the episode would
seem to affirm the existence of warm, cordial ties between the Qushayrī
family and that of Abū Saʿīd b. Abī l-Khayrī. We have already underlined
the attention Shaykh Abū Saʿīd paid to Fātima and Ismāʿīl, son of Abū ʿAlī
al-Daqqāq, and the fact that Qushayrī’s second son was directly named by
Abū Saʿīd. An episode of the Asrār relates how, after Abū Saʿīd’s death,
Qushayrī and a delegation of Nishapurian masters came to visit the son of
the Meyhana master. Qushayrī gave orders for the singers to recite one of
Shaykh Abū Saʿīd’s poems. Abū Saʿīd’s sons welcomed this gift with rever214
ence and hospitality.
209
210
211
212
213
214

Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, p. 207.
Ibn Salāh al-Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ, II, p. 223.
Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 192.
Samʿānī, Muntakhab min muʿjam shuyūkh, pp. 1107-1108.
E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, p. 568.
E. Monavvar, The Secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness, pp. 550-551.

293

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Abū l-Muzaffar ʿAbd al-Munʿim (d. 532/1138)

215

Qushayrī’s sixth son was born in 445/1053. He studied the hadith with his
father, who died when Abū l-Muzaffar was barely twenty years old. Abū
Nasr, his closest brother in age, as well as being the most learned, pursued
his studies in Baghdad, bringing Abū l-Muzaffar along with him. There, the
latter continued to acquire prophetic sentences and taught the hadith ac216
cording to his father’s riwāya. His riwāyāt must have had a certain
prestige. Muhyī al-Dīn Ibn al-ʿArabī in his Mishkat al-anwār quoted a hadith
in the transmission of Abū l-Muzaffar, who received it from his father ʿAbd
217
al-Karīm. Abū l-Muzaffar travelled widely. He had already been a mud218
hakkir in Cairo in the “Masjid ʿAqīl,” when his father was still alive. Ibn
ʿAsākir met Abū l-Muzaffar in Khorasan during his travels; the latter trans219
mitted hadiths that appeared in his Taʾrīkh Dimashq. Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī, according to the Dhayl taʾrīkh Baghdād, seemed to have also given his
brother, Abū l-Muzaffar, a particular examination of the hadith takhrīj al220
fawāʾid. Abū Nasr also apparently transmitted to his brother the fawāʾid
221
(profits) of “ten chapters of hadith (ajzāʾ) from forty masters.” Samʿānī,
who had met him, says that at the end of his life, he remained busy recopy222
ing the Qur’ān as well as works by Qushayrī, his father. There exists textual proof of this activity: the Escorial manuscript n. 735, Abū l-Muzaffar
223
hand written copy of Qushayrī’s Risāla. According to a later source, ʿAbd
215 Fārisī, Siyāq, fol. 47b; Fārisī, Mukhtasar, p. 261; Sarīfīnī, Muntakhab, p. 400;
Shahrazūrī, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ, II, p. 573; Subkī, Tabaqāt, VII, pp. 192-193; F. Garāyilī, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah, p. 516.
216 Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, II, p. 78.
217 Ibn ʿArabī, Divine sayings. The Mishkat al-anwār of Ibn ‘Arabī, Arabic text and English transl. by Stephen Hirtenstein & Martin Notcutt, Oxford, Anqa Publishing, 2004,
p. 126.
218 Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, p. 165.
219 Ibn ʿAsākir, Taʾrīkh madīnat Dimashq, ed. ʿAlī Shīrī, Beirut, Dār al-Fikr, 1995-2001, I,
p. 84.
220 G. Makdisi describes the modalities of this operation in his study on the forms of
teachings and their institutions in Islam: “The term mufīd points directly to the
function of its holder, namely ifāda, imparting useful knowledge, helping others in
acquiring knowledge. The mufīd imparted fawāʾid (sing. fāʾida), useful remarks, notes,
observations.” George Makdisi, The Rise of Colleges, p. 204. See Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 58, n. 34.
221 Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, p. 166.
222 ishtaghala bi-l-ʿibāda wa kitāba masāfih wa-kutub wālidihi, Ibn Najjār, Dhayl, I, p.
165, according to Samʿānī, who met Abū l-Muzaffar.
223 Hartwig Derenbourg, Les manuscrits arabes de l’Escurial, Paris, E. Leroux, 1903, 2/1,
p. 24. Ibn al-Jawzī in his Talbīs Iblīs quotes a paragraph of the Risāla according to a

294

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Allāh al-Fāsī’s Minah al-bādiyya, Abū l-Muzaffar, as did his nephew Hibat
224
al-Rahmān, apparently also transmitted Qushayrī’s khirqa.

Qushayrī’s daughters
The presence of spiritual and intellectual women in Nishapur has been particularly well recorded by hagiographic sources. If we examine the recent
past of the Khorasan region, antecedents and models of feminine saintliness
can be found. One example is Sulamī’s biographic portraits in his Dhikr al225
niswa al-mutaʿabbidāt al-sūfīyyāt. In this anthology, we do indeed find examples of women active in the management of the spiritual and material
heritage of a founding master, examples that are close to the social circles of
Fātima and Qushayrī and their daughters.
Through his daughters, Qushayrī established a network of alliances with
other notable Nishapurian families: the Fūrakīs, the Sayrafīs, the Sulamīs,
226
and the Saffārs. We have already mentioned Karīma Amat al-Rahīm,
227
mother of the biographer, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir. The latter, born in 451/1059,
grew up in the Qushayrī household because his father was far from
Nishapur throughout his childhood. Later, he would serve the Imām alHaramayn al-Juwaynī as student-servant and would specialise in the study
of the usūl. He also travelled widely, spreading the writings of his grandfather Qushayrī. He travelled to Ghazna, Lahore, and elsewhere in India,
228
where he taught Qushayrī’s Latāʾif al-ishārāt.

224

225

226
227
228

direct transmission by Abū l-Muzaffar (Ibn al-Jawzī, Talbīs Iblīs, Beirut, Dār al-Fikr,
2001, p. 196 = Qushayrī, Risāla, bāb al-wasiya li-l-murīdīn, p. 574).
ʿAbd Allāh Muhammad al-Saghīr al-Fāsī (d. 1134H), Al-Minah al-Bādiyya fī l-asānīd
al- ʿāliyya wa l-musalsalāt al-zāhiyya wa l-turuq al-hādiyya al-kafiyya, ed. Muhammad Saqalī Hasanī Rabat, Wizārat al-Awqāf wa-l-Shuʾūn al-Dīniyya, 2005, pp. 170171.
Al-Sulamī, Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān, Dhikr al-niswat al-mutaʿabbidāt al-sūfiyāt, ed. Mustafā ʿAtā, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2003; Sulamī, Early Sufi Women. A bilingual critical edition of As-Sulami's Dhikr an-Niswa al-Muta'abbidat as-Sufiyyat,
transl. and annotated by Rkia Elaroui Cornell, Louisville, Fons Vitae, 1999; Sulamī,
Femmes Soufies, introduction and transl. from Arabic by Abd al-Rahman Andreucci,
Paris, Entrelacs, 2010. See also Arezou Azad, “Female Mystics in Mediaeval Islam.
The Quiet Legacy,” Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient, 56, 2013,
pp. 53-88.
Bulliet uses “Umm al-Rahīm” however “Amat al-Rahīm” is more correct. Amat is the
feminine form of ʿAbd.
On him, see Travis Zadeh, The Vernacular Qur’an. Translation and the Rise of Persian
Exegesis, London, Oxford University Press in association with the Institute of Ismaili
Studies, 2012, pp. 345-350.
Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 167-168; F. Garāyilī, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah, p. 513.

295

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Karīma al-Kubrā was married to one Qushayrī’s cousins, Abū ʿAmr ʿAbd
al-Wahhab al-Sulamī. The importance of the alliance between Qushayrīs
and the Sulamīs has been discussed above. Though we know the name of
their son, Abū l-Maʿālī ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, their three daughters remain anonymous, following the dominant customs. We know of their existence only as
the mother of their children. Samʿānī mentions a certain Amat Allāh Māhak
229
(?), but it is impossible to precisely attribute this name to one of the three
anonymous girls.
In summary, it would seem that several lineages were issued from Qushayrī
thanks to a network of marriage ties arranged within an endogamous group
of patrician families (Qushayrī–Fūrakī–Saffār–Shahhāmī–Furāwī) who certainly placed the Qushayrīs at the heart of the network. The Qushayrī sons
have very different profiles. For certain, the spiritual side seems to have
taken precedent whereas for others, such as Abū Nasr, militant Ashʿārī
theology had the upper hand. The endogamous group maintained its unity
through very solid, marital ties. These ties preserved not only the clannic relationship between different Nishapurian families, they also perpetuated the
spread of the learned heritage of the Qushayrīs, thanks to the transmission
of knowledge down through several generations (hadith, exegesis, Sufism,
230
literature, etc).

Conclusion: the end of the Qushayrīs
The end of the Qushayrī family is closely linked to Nishapur’s fate, to its de231
struction first by the Turkish armies of Ghozz then by the Mongols.
Ahmad b. al-Husayn, one of Qushayrī’s grandsons via one of his daughters,
lost his life during the sack of the city. The story of the family and their net work of transmission were nevertheless prolonged with Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī’s descendants and through his daughter, Hurra, married to Saffār. Abū
Nasr’s grandson, Abū Saʿd ʿAbd Allāh al-Qushayrī (d. 600/1204), left behind
a very interesting testimony to his scholarly network in a book of forty
229 Samʿānī, Muntakhab min muʿjam shuyūkh, p. 1150. Also quoted by Farūzānfar, Tarjumah-i Risāla-i Qushayriyyah, p. 60.
230 We are referring here to Esther Peskes’ work, Al-‘Aidarūs und seine Erben. Eine Untersuchung zu Geschichte und Sufismus einer hadramitischen Sāda-Gruppe vom fünfzehnten bis zum achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Stuttgart, Franz Steiner, 2005. She studied
a Yemenite Sufi family across several centuries. See also her article in the present
volume.
231 See the chapter “The End of the Patriciate,” in Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 76-81.

296

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

hadiths, the K. al-Arbaʿīn min masānīd al-mashāyikh al-ʿishrīn ʿan ashāb al232
arbaʿīn. He starts his book with the most illustrious of his direct transmitters: his grandfather Abū Nasr. In this text, he also mentions illustrious au thorities that he could not name in his book. A large part of those men tioned belonged to the Qushayrī family and its different branches, establish233
ed through marriage ties. Abū Saʿd’s son, Abū Bakr al-Qāsim, Qushayrī’s
great grandson, died during the devastation of Nishapur by the Mongols in
234
618/1221.
Reconstructing this family’s history required both finding biographical
notices as well as the philological reconstruction of manuscript sources. The
chains of transmission (asānid) of hadiths and Qushayrī’s works turned out
to be unexploited sources that informed us on family modalities of transmission of science and of Sufism. The ijāzāt in hadith are valuable in that they
reinforce the chain of transmission through the prestige of the men and women mentioned. For the Qushayrīs, this prestige takes on a collective, family-wide dimension. Samʿānī’s testimony indicates that travelling to Khorasan to meet the Qushayrīs and receive a riwāya from them, or even merely
sheets of hadith (as with the Qushayrī women), was also an opportunity to
retrace the family’s history. In this case, the isnād (or the ʿilm al-rijāl) is
combined with hagiography. Thus, J. J. Thibon underlines the fact that Abū
ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, in his Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya, outlines the biographies for 57 masters and reports for each a hadith with a chain of transmission
that goes back to him:
An annotation attracts our attention, both by what it implies and
also by its apparently unexpected character as a biographical element. Sulamī takes care to note whether the master has transmitted the hadith. He uses the expression: asnada l-hadīth. Should
we construe from this that it indicates one of the figure’s spiritual
235
characteristics?
232 Abū Saʿd Abd Allāh al-Qushayrī al-Saffār, K. al-Arbaʿīn min masānīd al-mashāyikh
al-ʿishrīn ʿan ashāb al-arbaʿīn, in K. al-Arbaʿīn hadīthan, ed. Badr b. ʿAbd Allāh Badr,
2nd ed., Riyadh, Maktabat Adwāʾ al-Salaf, 2000, pp. 219-320. See Dhahabī, Siyar, XXI,
p. 403-4; Subkī, Tabaqāt, VIII, p. 156; Bulliet, The Patricians, pp. 164-165.
233 He quotes (p. 329) Abū al-Fath and Abū Muzaffar, Qushayrī’s son, Hibat al-Rahmān
and his brother Abū al-Mahāsin, Abū al-Barakāt al-Furāwī, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir al-Fārisī,
and Durdāna, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir’s sister and Abū Saʿd’s grandmother, Abū Nasr’s two
other sisters, Jalīla Amat Allāh and Sāra Amat al-Rahmān, the author’s aunt.
234 Bulliet, The Patricians, p. 165.
235 J. J. Thibon, L’œuvre d’Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī, p. 513.

297

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Furthermore, Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī’s life invites us to question the reasons
that pushed the son “that most resembled the father,” Abū Nasr, to dedicate
himself to a career in theology, and not in Sufism, despite ʿAttār’s note. An
answer might lie in Tilman Nagel’s study of Juwaynī, Abū Nasr’s colleague
236
and companion. Qushayrī thus did pass his path on through his children,
but, in the sources, this path seems to appear shadowed in discretion when
compared to the eminent position of the hadith in the network of transmission. To understand why, further studies need to examine the role of the
transmission of hadith at the heart of medieval Sufism.
There remains the core observation that this family does not exclusively
define itself as Sufi; but rather as a centre for the spread and teaching of all
branches of Islamic knowledge. This characteristic of the Qushayrīs in general is one of the fundamental aspects of ʿAbd al-Karīm al-Qushayrī himself.
The variety of typologies of biographic dictionaries used to reconstruct his
life is proof. The list of his writings (in all fields of Islamic knowledge) is the
237
reflection. Another Qushayrī particularity was their non-exclusive relationship to the teaching, transmission, and management of the material and
immaterial heritage of the master-founding father. Qushayrī’s sons studied
with different masters and Qushayrī himself trained numerous disciples outside of the family circle.
Despite all of this, the central position of the Qushayrī family remains
undeniable. The account of Qushayrī’s death and the choice of his son Abū
Saʿd as Imam of the funeral prayer, the choice of the family madrasa for his
burial and the construction of a full-fledged family mausoleum within the
school, the value conferred upon the copies of Qushayrī’s texts penned by
his sons, all inform us about the place Master Qushayrī occupied within his
family.
The remarkable role played by the women of the family bears repeating,
especially the role of Fātima, daughter of Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq. The role must
certainly have existed but the fact that sources mentioned it contributes to
the particularity of this family’s texts with their strong genealogical foundations.
Further axes of research involve the general framework of the mas236 Tilman Nagel, Die Festung des Glaubens: Triumph und Scheitern des islamischen
Rationalismus im 11. Jahrhundert, Munchen, C.H. Beck, 1988. See Claude Gilliot,
“Quand la théologie s’allie à l'histoire: triomphe et échec du rationalisme musulman
à travers l’œuvre d’al-Ğuwaynī,” Arabica, 39, 1992, pp. 241-260.
237 See Nguyen, The Confluence, “Appendix A: Textual Legacy,” pp. 409-415.

298

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

ter-disciple relationship in classical Sufism. Qushayrī’s Risāla clearly illustrates this fundamental step in the shaping and determination of the relationship, the change from a master-disciple relationship to one of mas 238
ter-teacher (shaykh al-taʿlīm), to master-educator (shaykh al-tarbiya). Abū
Sahl al-Suʿlukī’s son (d. 1014) stated that disobeying the master was more
239
serious of an offence than disobeying one’s parents. Qushayrī shared and
adopted this precept:
Know that the filial piety (birr) that young disciples must show
their masters and teachers must be major when compared to that
shown to their parents. The father protects his son from the ills of
this lifetime, the master protects his disciple from the dangers of
the hereafter; the father educates his son with his material belongings, the master educates his disciple through his spiritual
240
energy (himma).
It is therefore just when a more exclusive relationship developed between
master and disciple do we witness the parallel apparition of the question of
the relationship between family and spiritual ties. It is at this moment that
the function of the shaykh al-tarbiya became more present in the history of
Sufism and that the khāwāʾniq spread throughout the Islamic Middle East, a
phenomenon that also parallels the birth of learned, Sufi families (according
to testimony by Hujwiri and the other cases mentioned in the introduction),
such as the Qushayrīs. Does the master win out over the father? Qushayrī’s
memories of his relationship with his father-in-law Abū ʿAlī, quoted in the
Risāla, most probably played a key role in the framework of these major
changes in the history of Sufism.
238 “Nayshābūr, as far as the development of the Sufi novitiate is concerned, represents
a major bridge for the transition from the classical period with its shaykh al-taʿlīm
to the post-classical period with its shavkh al-tarbiva. Qushayri in the eleventh century closes the old and opens the new period.” Fritz Meier, “Khurasan and the End of
Classical Sufism,” in Essays on Islamic Piety and Mysticism, transl. by John O’Kane
with editorial assistence of Bernd Radtke, Leiden, Brill, 1999, p. 217. (= F. Meier,
“Ḫurasān und das ende der klassischen sūfik,” in Atti del convegno internazionale sul
tema: La Persia nel Medioevo (Roma, 31 marzo – 5 aprile 1970), Accademia Nazonale
dei Lincei, Rome, 1971, pp. 545-570). For another attempt on dating this change, see
L. Silvers-Alario, “The Teaching Relationship in Early Sufism: A Reassessment of
Fritz Meier’s Definition of the shaykh al-tarbiya and the shaykh al-ta‘lim,” Muslim
World, 93/1, 2003, pp. 69-97.
239 F. Meier, “Khurāsān and the End of Classical Sufism,” p. 205.
240 Qushayrī, Sharh Alsmāʾ Allāh, p. 274.

299

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Appendix – Genealogy of the Qushayrī Family

300

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Note: I based my family tree in large part on Bulliet’s graphical representation
(The Patricians, pp. 175-191), which forgoes a certain amount of legibility in order to fully map out all the marriage ties between the Qushayrīs, the Fūrakīs,
the Saffār, les Fārisīs, the Shahhānīs, and the Furāwīs. I have isolated here only
the filiation of the Qushayrī family. Bulliet’s family tree was used by Heinz
Halm (Die Ausbreitung, p. 61) as a base to which he added certain details found
in the new, complete edition of Subkī’s al-Tabaqāt al-kubrā, still incomplete
when Bulliet’s study was published. I completed these first two genealogical efforts with testimony by Samʿānī, taken from two volumes published by Munīra
Nājī Sālim and Muwaffaq b. ʿAbd Allāh, and the Dhayl of Ibn Najjār. I also corrected the names of certain individuals. I was not able to account for the hypothesis of Qushayrī’s possible second marriage, despite Farūzānfar’s favourable
opinion on the issue, due to the absence of precise bibliographic references. The
dates are written in Hijri years.
The symbol ⚯ indicates marriage ties.
*
= Samʿānī, Taḥbīr
** = Abū Saʿd al-Qushayrī, K. al-Arbaʿīn min masānīd al-mashāyikh
*** = Samʿānī, Muntakhab min muʿjam al-shuyūkh
**** = Ibn Najjār, Dhayl taʾrīkh baghdād

Bibliography
Primary sources
al-Ansārī, ʿAbd Allāh, Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya, ed. Muhammad Sarwar Mawlāʼī,
Tehran, Intishārāt-i Tūs, 1362 /1983.
ʿAttār, Farīd al-Dīn, Tadhkira al-awliyāʾ, ed. Nicholson, 2 vols. London, Luzac,
1905-1907; ʿAttār, Tadhkira al-awliyāʾ, Arabic transl. by Shaykh
Muhammad Asīlī al-Wastānī al-Shāfiʿī, ed. Muhammad Adīb al-Jādir,
Damascus, Dār al-Maktabī, 2009; ʿAttār, Le mémorial des Saints, transl. by
Abel Pavet du Courteille, Paris, Seuil, 1976.
al-Baghdādī, al-Khatīb, Taʾrīkh madīnat al-salām, ed. Bashshār ʿAwwād Maʿrūf,
17 vols. Beirut, Dār al-Gharb al-Islāmī, 2001.
al-Balyānī, Awhad al-Dīn, Risāla al-ahadiyya. Epître sur l'unicité absolue,
presentation, transl., and annotations by Michel Chodkiewicz, Paris, Les
Deux Océans, 1982.
al-Dāwūdī, Shams al-Dīn, Tabaqāt al-mufassirīn, 2 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub alʿIlmiyya, 1983.
al-Dhahabī, Shams al-Dīn Muhammad, Taʾrīkh al-Islām wa-wafayāt al-mashāhīr
wa-l-aʿlām, ed. ʿUmar ʿAbd al-Salām al-Tadmurī, 52 vols., Beirut, Dār alKitāb al-ʿArabī, 1987.

301

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Id., Siyar aʿlām al-nubalāʾ, ed. Shuʿayb Arnaʿūt and Muhammad Naʿīm alʿArqsūsī, 25 vols., Beirut, Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1996.
al-Fārisī, ʿAbd al-Ghāfir Abū l-Hasan, Mukhtasar min kitāb al-siyāq li-taʾrīkh
Naysābūr, ed. Muhammad Kāzim al-Mahmūdī, Tehran, Mīrāth Maktūb,
2005.
al-Fāsī, ʿAbd Allāh Muhammad al-Saghīr, al-Minah al-Bādiyya fī l-asānīd alʿāliyya wa l-musalsalāt al-zāhiyya wa l-turuq al-hādiyya al-kafiyya, ed.
Muhammad Saqalī Hasanī, Rabat, Wizārat al-Awqāf wa-l-Shuʾūn alDīniyya, 2005.
Ibn ʿAsākir, ʿAlī b. al-Hasan, Taʾrīkh madīnat Dimashq, ed. ʿAlī Shīrī, 80 vols.,
Beirut, Dār al-Fikr, 1995-2001.
Id., Tabyīn kadhib al-muftarī fī-mā nusiba ilā l-imām Abī l-Hasan al-Ashʿarī, ed.
Muhammad Zāhid b. al-Hasan al-Kawtharī, Damas, Dār al-Fikr, 1979.
Ibn Athīr, al-Lubāb fī tahdhīb al-ansāb, 3 vols., Beirut, Dār Sādir, 1972.
Ibn al-Jawzī, al-Muntazam fī taʾrīkh al-mulūk wa-l-umam, ed. Muhammad ʿAbd
al-Qādir ʿAtāʾ et al., 19 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1992.
Id., Talbīs Iblīs, ed. Beirut, Dār al-Fikr, 2001.
Ibn Mulaqqin, Tabaqāt al-awliyāʾ, ed. Mustafā ʿAbd al-Qādit ʿAtā, Beirut, 1998.
Ibn al-Najjār, Dhayl taʾrīkh Baghdād, ed. Bashshār ʿAwwād Maʿrūf, 3 vols.,
Beirut, Dār al-gharb al-Islāmī, 2006.
Id., Mustafād min dhayl tārīkh Baghdād, intiqaʾ Ibn al-Dimyātī, ed. Qaysar Abū
Faraj, Beirut, Dār al-Kitāb al-ʿArabī, n.d.
Ibn Munawwar, Muhammad, Asrār al-tawhīd fī maqāmāt al-shaykh Abī Saʿīd,
ed. Muhammad Ridā Shafīʿī Kadkanī, Tehran, Muʾassasa-yi Instishārāt-i
Āgāh, 1385/2006-7. French transl. by Mohammad Achena, Les étapes
mystiques du shaykh Abu Sa’id, Paris, Desclée de Brouwer, 1974; transl. by
John O’Kane as The secrets of God’s Mystical Oneness or the Spiritual
Stations of shaykh Abu Sa’id, Costa Mesa, Mazda Publishers in association
with Biblioteca Persica, 1992.
al-Jāmī, ʿAbd al-Rahmān b. Ahmad, Nafahāt al-uns min hadarāt al-quds (in
Arabic), ed. Muhammad Adīb Jādir, 1 ed., 2 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub
al-ʿIlmiyya, 2003.
al-Munāwī, Zayn al-Dīn Muhammad ʿAbd al-Raʾūf, al-Kawākib al-durriyya fī
tarājim al-sādāt al-sūfiyya. al-Tabaqāt al-kubrā, ed. Muhammad Adīb
al-Bārid, 4 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Sādir, 1999.
al-Qazwīnī, Abū l-Qāsim al-Rāfiʿī al-Tadwīn fī akhbār Qazwīn, ed. ʿAzīz Allāh
al-ʿAtāridī, 4 vols., Beirut, Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 1987.
al-Qushayrī, ʿAbd al-Karīm, al-Risāla al-qushayriyya, ed. ʿAbd al-Halīm
Mahmūd, Damascus, Dār al-Fikr, 2003. German transl. by Richard
Gramlich, Das Sendschreiben al-Qušayris über das Sufitum. Eingeleitet,
übersetzt und kommentiert, Freiburger Islamstudien vol. 12, Stuttgart, Franz
Steiner, 1989. English transl. by Alexander Knysh, Al-Qushayri’s Epistle on

302

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Sufism, Reading, Garret Publishing, 2007, Persian edition by Badīʿ alZamān Farūzānfar, Tarjumah-i Risāla-i Qushayriyyah, Tehran, Intishārāt-i
ʿIlmī wa Farhangī, 1374/1995.
Id., Sharh asmāʾ Allāh al-husnā, ed. ʿAbd al-Salām al-Halawānī, Cairo, 1969.
al-Qushayrī, Abū Nasr ʿAbd al-Rahīm, K. al-Shawāhid wa al-amthāl, MS.
Ayasofia 4128.
al-Qushayrī, Abū Saʿd Abd Allāh al-Saffār, K. al-Arbaʿīn min masānīd almashāyikh al-ʿishrīn ʿan ashāb al-arbaʿīn, in K. al-Arbaʿīn hadīthan, ed.
Badr b. ʿAbd Allāh Badr, 2nd edition, Riyadh, Maktabat Adwāʾ al-Salaf,
2000.
al-Samʿānī, Abū Saʿd ʿAbd al-Karīm, al-Ansāb, ed. ʿAbd Allāh ʿUmar al-Bārūdī, 5
vols., Beirut, Dār al-Fikr, 1998.
Id., al-Muntakhab min muʿjam shuyūkh al-Samʿānī, ed. Muwaffaq b. ʿAbd Allāh,
4 vols., Riyadh, Dār ʿĀlam al-Kutub, 1996.
Id., al-Tahbīr fī l-muʿjam al-kabīr, ed. Munīra Nājī Sālim, 2 vols., Baghdad, 1975.
al-Sarīfīnī, Ibrāhīm b. Muhammad, al-Muntakhab min al-siyāq li-taʾrīkh
Naysābūr, ed. Muhammad Ahmad ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz, Beirut, Dār al-Kutub alʿIlmiyya, 1996.
al-Shahrazūrī, Ibn al-Salāh, Tabaqāt al-fuqahāʾ al-shāfiʿiyya, ed. Muhyī al-Dīn
ʿAlī Najīb 2 vols. Beirut, Dār al-Bashāʾir al-islāmiyya, 1992.
al-Subkī, Tāj al-Dīn ʿAbd al-Wahhāb b. ʿAlī, Tabaqāt al-shāfiʿiyya al-kubrā, ed.
Mahmūd Muhammad al-Tanāhī and ʿAbd al-Fattāh Muhammad al-Hulw,
10 vols., Cairo, ʿĪsā al-Bābī al-Halabī, 1965.
al-Sulamī, Abū ʿAbd al-Rahmān, Tabaqāt al-sūfiyya, ed. Mustafā ʿAtā, Beirut,
Dār al-Kutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2003.
Id., Dhikr al-niswat al-mutaʿabbidāt al-sūfīyāt, ed. Mustafā ʿAtā, Beirut, Dār alKutub al-ʿIlmiyya, 2003. Sulamī, Early Sufi Women. A bilingual critical
edition of As-Sulami's Dhikr an-Niswa al-Muta 'abbidat as-Sufiyyat, transl.
and annotated by Rkia Elaroui Cornell, Louisville, Fons Vitae, 1999;
Sulamī, Femmes Soufies, introduction and transl. from Arabic by Abd alRahman Andreucci, Paris, Entrelacs, 2010.
al-Suyūtī, Jalāl al-Dīn, Taʾyīd al-haqīqa al-ʿaliyya fī tashyīd al-tarīqat alshādhiliyya, ed. ʿAbd Allāh b. Muhammad b. Al-Siddīq al-Ghumārī, Cairo,
1994; Taʾyīd al-haqīqa al-ʿaliyya fī tashyīd al-tarīqat al-shādhiliyya, ed.
ʿAbd al-Khāliq Mahmūd ʿAbd al-Khāliq and Ahmad Jumʿa ʿAbd al-Hamīd,
in Aʿmāl al-kāmila li-l-Suyūtī fī al-tasawwuf al-islāmī, Cairo, Institut
Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2012.
al-Tustarī, Sahl b. ʿAbd Allāh, Great Commentaries on the Holy Qurʾān, transl.
by Annabel Keeler and Ali Keeler, Louisville, Fons Vitae, 2009.

303

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Studies
Afshār, Īraj, “Ferdaws al-moršedīya fī asrār al-Samadīya,” Enc. Iranica, online
edition.
Aigle, Denise, “Un fondateur d’ordre en milieu rural. Le Cheikh Abū Ishāq de
Kāzarūn,” in id., ed., Saints Orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 181-209.
Algar, Hamid, “Introduction,” in Qushayrī, Principles of Sufism, transl. by.
Barbara R. von Schlegell, Berkeley, Mizan Press, 1993.
Id., “Kāzarūnī,” Enc. Islam 2, IV, pp. 851-852.
Id., “Nūrbakhshiyya,” Enc. Islam 2, VIII, pp. 134-136.
Amir-Moezzi, Mohammad Ali, “Ibn ‘Atâ al-Adamî, esquisse d'une biographie
historique,” Studia Islamica, 63, 1986, pp. 63-127.
Arezou, Azad, “Female Mystics in Mediaeval Islam. The Quiet Legacy,” Journal
of the Economic and Social History of the Orient, 56, 2013, pp. 53-88.
Böwering, Gerhard, The mystical vision of existence in classical Islam. The
Qurʾanic hermeneutics of the Sufi Sahl at-Tustarī (d. 283/896), Berlin, de
Gruyter, 1980.
Bulliet, Richard W., The Patricians of Nishapur: A Study in Medieval Islamic
Social History, Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1972.
Cahen, Claude, “Tribes, Cities and Social Organization,” in Richard N. Frye, ed.,
The Cambridge History of Iran, Volume 4: The Period from the Arab Invasion
to the Saljuqs, 4 vols., Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1968, IV,
pp. 306-327.
Chabbi, Jacqueline, “Abū ʿAlī Daqqāq,” Enc. Iranica, online edition.
Chiabotti, Francesco, “The Spiritual and Physical Progeny of ʿAbd al-Karīm alQushayrī: A Preliminary Study in Abū Nasr al-Qushayrīs (d. 514/1120)
Kitāb al-Shawāhid wa-l-Amthāl,” Journal of Sufi Studies, 2/1, 2013,
pp. 46-77.
Deladrière, Roger, Junayd. Enseignement spirituel, Paris, Sinbad, 1983.
Dickinson, Eerik, “Ibn al-Salāh al-Shahrazūrī and the Isnād,” Journal of the
American Oriental Society, 122/3, 2002, pp. 481-505.
Feuillebois-Pierunek, Eve, A la croisée des voies célestes. Faxr al-Din ‘Eraqi,
online at: http://hal.archives-ouvertes.fr/docs/00/61/11/95/PDF/ERAQIHAL-SHS.pdf
Frye, Richard Nelson, ed., The Histories of Nishapur, Harvard Oriental Series vol.
45, The Hague, Mouton & Co., 1965.
Garāyilī, Friydūn, Niyshābūr shahr-i fīrūzah, Tehran, Khāwarān, 1994.
Gilliot, Claude, “Quand la théologie s’allie à l'histoire: triomphe et échec du
rationalisme musulman à travers l'œuvre d'al-Ğuwaynī,” Arabica, 39, 1992,
pp. 241 -260.
Gril, Denis, “De la khirqa à la tarīqa: Continuité et évolution dans

304

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

l’identification et la classification des voies,” in Rachida Chih and
Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, eds., Le Soufisme à l’époque ottomane / Sufism
in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010,
pp. 57-82.
Halm, Heinz, “al-Ḳushayrī,” Enc. Islam 2, V, p. 526.
Id., Die Ausbreitung der šāfìʿitischen Rechtsschule von den Anfängen bis zum 8./14.
Jahrhundert, Wiesbaden, Reichert, 1974.
Id., “Der Wesir Al-Kundurī und die Fitna von Nīšāpūr,” Die Welt des Orients, 6,
1971, pp. 205-233.
Id., “Ḡolāt,” Enc. Iranica, online edition.
Lambton, Ann K.S., “Dihqan,” Enc. Islam 2, II, pp. 253-254.
Id., Landlord and Peasant in Persia, London, Oxford University Press, 1969.
La-Shay’, Hussein and Farzin Negahban, “Abū ʿAlī al-Daqqāq,” Encyclopaedia
Islamica, Brillonline.
Lawrence, Bruce, “Abū Eshāq Kāzarūnī,” Enc. Iranica, online edition.
Layish, Aharon and Joseph Schacht, “Mīrāth,” Enc. Islam 2, VII, pp. 106-113.
Levi Della Vida, G., “Kushāyr,” Enc. Islam 2, V, p. 526.
Lewisohn, Leonard, “The Mystical Milieu : Hāfiz’s erotic spirituality,” in id.,
ed., Hafiz and the Religion of Love in Classical Persian Poetry, LondonNew York, I.B. Tauris in association with Iran Heritage Foundation, 2010,
pp. 43-55.
Makdisi, George, The Rise of Colleges: Institutions of Learning in Islam and the
West, Edinburgh, Edinburgh University Press, 1981.
Id., Ibn ʿAqīl et la résurgence de l’islam traditionaliste au XIe siècle, Damascus,
Institut Français de Damas, 1963.
Meier, Fritz, “Khurasan and the End of Classical Sufism,” in Essays on Islamic
Piety and Mysticism, transl. by John O’Kane with editorial assistence of
Bernd Radtke, Leiden, Brill, 1999.
Id., Abū Saʿīd-i Abū l-Ḫayr (357-440/967-1049). Wirklichkeit und Legende, Acta
Iranica 11-Third Series, Tehran-Liége, Pahlavi National Library, 1976.
Id., Die Fawāʾih al-ğamāl wa-fawātih al-ğalāl des Nağm ad-Dīn al-Kubrā. Eine
Darstellung mystischer Erfahrungen im Islam aus der Zeit um 1200 n. Chr.
Herausgegeben und erläutert von Fritz Meier, Wiesbaden, Franz Steiner
Verlag, 1957.
Id., Die Vita des Scheich Abū Ishāq al-Kāzarūnī in der Persischen Bearbeitung von
Mahmūd b. ʿUṯmān, Leipzig, Brockhaus, 1948.
Nagel, Tilman, Die Festung des Glaubens. Triumph und Scheitern des islamischen
Rationalismus im 11. Jahrhundert, München, C.H. Beck, 1988.
Nicholson, Reynold A., Kashf al-Mahjūb of al-Hujwīrī. The Oldest Persian
Treatise on Sufism, London, Gibb Memorial Trust, 1976.

305

FRANCESCO CHIABOTTI

Nguyen, Martin, Sufi Master and Qur’an Scholar Abū’l-Qasim al-Qushayrī and
the Latā’if al-Ishārāt, OUP in association with the Institute of Ismaili
Studies Qur’anic Studies Series, 2012.
Id., The Confluence and Construction of Traditions: Al-Qushayrī (d. 465/1072) and
the Intersection of Qurʾānic Exegesis, Theology, and Sufism, Ph.D.
Dissertation, Harvard University, 2009.
Ohlander, Erik, Sufism in the Age of Transition: ʿUmar al-Suhrawardī and the
Rise of Islamic Mystical Brotherhoods, Leiden, Brill, 2008.
Peskes, Esther, Al-‘Aidarūs und seine Erben. Eine Untersuchung zu Geschichte
und Sufismus einer hadramitischen Sāda-Gruppe vom fünfzehnten bis zum
achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Freiburger Islamstudien, vol. 23, Stuttgart, Franz
Steiner, 2005.
Pourjavady, Nasrollah., “Stories of Aḥmad al-Ghazālī ‘Playing the Witness’ in
Tabrīz (Shams-i Tabrīzī’s Interest in shāhid-bāzī),” in Todd Lawson, ed.,
Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Theology, Philosophy and Mysticism in
Muslim Thought, London-New York, I.B. Tauris in association with the
Institute of Ismaili Studies, 2005, pp. 200-220.
Pourshariati, Parvaneh, “Local histories of Khurasan and the pattern of Arab
settlement,” Studia Iranica, 27, 1998, pp. 41-81.
Ridgeon, Lloyd, “The Controversy of Shaykh Awhad al-Dīn Kirmānī and
Handsome, Moon-Faced Youths: A Case Study of Shāhid-Bāzī in Medieval
Sufism,” Journal of Sufi Studies, 1/1, 2012, pp. 3–30.
Ritter, Helmut, Das Meer der Seele, Leiden, Brill, 1955.
Id., The Ocean of the Soul: Men, the World and God in the Stories of Farīd al-Dīn
ʿAttār, transl. by J. O’Kane and B. Radtke, Leiden, Brill, 2003.
Sellheim, R., “al-Sam‘ānī, Abū Sa‘d (incorrectly Sa‘īd) ‘Abd al-Karīm,” Enc. Islam
2, VIII, pp. 1024-1025.
Shahsavari, Mojtaba, “Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī and his Kitāb al-Shawāhid wa-lamthāl,” Isharāq, 3, 2012, pp. 279-300.
Silvers, Laury, “The Teaching Relationship in Early Sufism: A Reassessment of
Fritz Meier’s Definition of the shaykh al-tarbiya and the shaykh al-ta'lim,”
Muslim World, 93/1, 2003, pp. 69-97.
Id., A Soaring Minaret: Abu Bakr Al-Wasiti and the Rise of Baghdadi Sufism,
Albany, State University of New York Press, 2010.
Sobieroj, Florian, Die Responsensammlung Abū l-Qāsim al-Qušairī´s über das
Sufitum. Kritische Edition der ʿUyūn al-aǧwiba fī funūn al-asʾila,
Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz Verlag, 2012.
Id., “Funktionen von Dichtung in al-Qušairīs K. ʿUyūn al-aǧwiba. Ein sufischer
Diskurs über die Liebe (mahabba),” in Shabo Talay and Hartmut Bobzin,
eds., Arabische Welt: Grammatik, Dichtung und Dialekte : Beiträge einer
Tagung in Erlangen zu Ehren von Wolfdietrich Fischer, Wiesbaden, Reichert,
2010, pp. 179-206.

306

ʿABD AL-KARĪM AL-QUSHAYRĪ: FAMILY TIES AND TRANSMISSION IN NISHAPUR’S SUFI MILIEU

Sublet, Jacqueline, “Nommer l’animal en arabe d’après un auteur du XII e siècle,”
Anthropozoologica, 39/1, 2004, pp. 99-105.
Szombathy, Zoltán, “Genealogy in Medieval Muslim Societies,” Studia Islamica,
95, 2002, pp. 5-35.
Thibon, Jean-Jacques, L’œuvre d’Abū ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Sulamī (325/937412/1021) et la formation du soufisme, Damascus, Institut Français du
Proche-Orient, 2009.
Id., “Fâtima bt. Abî ‘Alî al-Daqqâq,” in Audrey Fella, ed., Les femmes mystiques.
Histoire et dictionnaire, Paris, R. Laffont, 2013.
Tortel, Christiane, Paroles d’un soufi. Abû’l-Hasan Kharaqânî (352-425/960-1033),
présentation, traduction du persan et notes par Christiane Tortel,
Paris, Seuil, 1998.
Yanagihashi, Hiroyuki, “Solidarity in an Islamic society: ʿasaba, family, and the
community,” in Yanagihashi Hiroyuki, ed., The concept of territory in
Islamic law and thought, London, Kegan Paul International, 2000, pp. 51-67.
Zadeh, Travis, The Vernacular Qur’an. Translation and the rise of Persian exegesis,
London, Oxford University Press in association with the Institute of
Ismaili Studies, Qur’anic Studies Series, 7, 2012.

307

“The Son is the Secret of the Father”:
Rūmī, Sultān Veled and the Strategy of Family Feelings

Alberto Fabio Ambrosio
The relation between father and son seems to be constitutive of a certain
Sufi tradition. It is not only an ancestral bond, founded on biological descent, but is also a deep and powerfully spiritual symbol of religious authority. In the case of the founder of the famous whirling dervishes, the great
1
master Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī (d. 1273), the role played by the family and especially by the son is clearly important. In fact, the high birth of the son is re gistered in his very name, Sultān Veled, since Veled means precisely ‘son’.
We cannot approach the history of Rūmī or the Mevlevīs without considering the sort of family relations which helped to constitute spiritual authority
in the Mevleviye order. The relationship between the great master Rūmī,
founder or, for others, inspirer of the Mevleviye Sufi order, and his son Sultān Veled (d. 1312), represents just one aspect of the family’s communal
sainthood. To look beyond this relationship towards the larger question of
Rūmī’s wider family history would be beyond the scope of a single paper
such as this.
Regarding the posterity of Rūmī, the family tree can be resumed like
this: Sultān Veled (d. 1312), or more exactly Bahāʾ al-Dīn Veled, was the first
son of the marriage of Rūmī to Gawhar Khātūn (d. 1242 or 1243), daughter
of Sharaf al-Dīn Lālā of Samarqand. The second son from the same wife was
‘Alā al-Dīn (thirteenth century). After the death of Gawhar Khātūn, Rūmī
married again, this time to Kirā Khātūn (thirteenth century) – herself a widow – who survived Rūmī by nineteen years, leaving two other children to
2
posterity, one of them from her first marriage. Many documents exist
1

2

For an introduction to the life of Rūmī and of his Sufi order, see: Alberto Fabio Ambrosio, Dervisci. Storia, antropologia, mistica, Roma, Carocci editore, 2011; Alberto
Fabio Ambrosio, Ève Pierunek, Thierry Zarcone, Les derviches tourneurs. Doctrine,
histoire et pratiques, Paris, Cerf, 2006; Leili Anvar-Chenderoff, Rûmî, Paris, Editions
Entrelacs, 2004; Franklin D. Lewis, Rumi. Past and Present, East and West. The Life,
Teaching and Poetry of Jalâl al-Din Rumi, Oxford, Oneworld Publications, 2000;
William Chittick, The Sufi Path of Love. The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi, Albany,
State University of New York Press, 1983; Abdülbâki Gölpınarlı, Mevlânâ’dan sonra
Mevlevilik, Istanbul, İnkılâp ve Aka, 1982.
Ashk P. Dahlén, “Female Sufi Saints and Disciples: Women in the life of Jalāl al-dīn
Rūmī,” Orientalia Suecana, LVII, 2008, pp. 46-62.

308

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

which deal with the early history of the Mevleviye, the mystical order in spired by Rūmī and organized by his eldest son. The information held in the
hagiographical lives of Rūmī and the early history of his order is a vast
source from which emerges an image of Sultān Veled and of his famous
father and, for the most part, the spiritual relationship between them. This
relation is described in different ways according to the hagiographical material. Rūmī’s life being one of the richest in terms of biographical and hagi ographical texts, with the large quantity of written sources allowing a range
of different interpretations of the early history of the founder’s family. Two
of the earliest sources – the Manāqib al-‘ārifīn of Shams al-Dīn Ahmad
Aflākī (d. 1360), one of the most important biographies of Rūmī, and the
Valadnāme, the one extant work of Sultān Veled himself – offer various
points of view which differ each other especially in the perspective of the
physical and spiritual descent; by contrast, the treatise of Sipehsālār (fourteenth century), another important historical source for the life of Rūmī,
provides more spiritual teachings. The representation of the religious authority depends, finally, on the perspective of the writer and his own intention to show a real spiritual lineage.
By drawing on a range of first-hand hagiographical material, I propose
in this paper to examine the relationship between Rūmī and his son Sultān
Veled, and the way in which this relation was transmitted by Ottoman –
mostly Mevlevī – historiography. In particular, I consider Rūmī’s lineage
with reference to the origin of the institution of the Çelebī “dynasty” or the
founder’s successors. As is well-known, the name Çelebī was attributed
since the Mevleviye’s early time to the family of Rūmī. All the members of
this lineage were thus called Çelebī but, more precisely defined, the word referred specifically to the direct successor of the founder and the head of the
Sufi Order. In the Sufi terminology, especially in the Ottoman and Anatolian
region, when the word çelebī was pronounced, the listener immediately referred to Rūmī’s descendant who was the master of the Mevleviye order in
both spiritual and, probably, temporal sense. The term çelebī itself may come
from Turko-Mongolian and means an illustrious person. Çalabi, in its original Turko-Mongol sense, would mean also the ‘higher entity’, if not God
3
Himself. Hence, we could even assume that the Çelebī lineage appeared, in
the eyes of their contemporary, as the vicar presence of the Almighty God.
Whatever the etymology, we know that historically, even though their ori3

See for instance Mustafa Çıpan, “Mevlevîlik Terimleri,” in Nuri Şimsekler, ed.,
Konya’dan Dünya’ya Mevlâna ve Mevlevîlik, Konya, Karatay Belediyesi, 2002, p. 166.

309

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

gin is difficult to classify, the Çelebī spread their spiritual and civil power as
early as the time of the Turkish Principalities. After the Seljuk arrival in
Anatolia, the region found itself under the control of many Turkish tribes
that divided the geography in some influential zones. With the Ottoman
conquest of all the region, and only afterwards throughout the Ottoman
Empire, Rūmī’s lineage may well have reached a higher degree of power
than was the case during the Seljuk period or the time of the beyliks. The
Çelebī transcended their origins to become an Ottoman family, and a kind of
spiritual pendant of the Imperial household. Ekrem Işın, in an interesting paper which is more an analysis than simply a collection of facts, asserted that
in one hand the Çelebī were the spiritual correspondents of the Ottoman
house, but in the other, they were for a long time associated with the Principalities’ power. In this perspective, they were a part of a rival power. An
evidence of this switching of patronage is the fact that the Mevleviye
reached Istanbul, the capital of the Ottoman Empire, in 1491, that means
4
only several decades after the conquest of the Byzantine city. The origin of,
as well the relationship to, the political power of Rūmī’s family was not underestimated by the Ottomans.
The purpose of this paper is to present the image of a father and his son
– both mystics – as depicted by Ottoman sources relating to the order’s history. How did the Ottoman texts allow a transmission of a deeply felt family
relationship? Has the first image as depicted by the Persian sources been
conserved by subsequent Ottoman authors? After a presentation of some
hagiographical materials, the analysis will be oriented to the evolution from
the first image of Sultān Veled’s relationship with his father to its later representations.

The Persian Sources of Family Souvenirs
The Acts of Adepts
The first history of the family of Rūmī is recorded in Shams al-Dīn Ahmad
Aflākī’s Manāqib al-‘ārifīn, whose title was translated by James Redhouse as
5
The Acts of Adepts. Prior to this text, Sultān Veled himself described the be4

5

Ekrem Işın, “İstanbulda Mevlevi Şeyh aileleri ve Mevleviliğin bir imparatorluk
tarikatı olarak örgütlenmesi,” in Emrehan Küey, ed., Birinci uluslararası Mevlana,
mesnevi ve mevlevihaneler sempozyumu bildirileri, Manisa, Celal Bayar Üniversitesi,
2002, pp. 33-40.
Shams al-Dīn Ahmad-e Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn),
transl. from the Persian by John O’Kane, Leiden, Brill, 2002.

310

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

ginnings of the Mevleviye in his Book of the Son (Valadnāme). Both works
were written in Persian. In 1993, Speros Vryonis published an article about
the importance of the Manāqib al-‘ārifīn for the cultural history of Rūmī’s
time. He wrote that “though Eflaki’s work is hagiographical through and
through, it is also an important and very interesting cultural document.
Scholars have long been aware of this but have used it peripherally, prefer6
ring the important chronicles, waqfnames, and rich inscriptional materials.”
Vryonis inscribed his own work in a wider research on Anatolian culture
through Aflākī’s eyes. His article dealt with the situation of a Muslim family, that of Rūmī himself, but not at the intimate level of the relationship
between Rūmī and Sultān Veled. Before reaching this level, let us remember
that Muhammad Bahā’ al-Dīn Sultān Veled, the son of the Great Master, became the third successor at the head of the Sufi order, the heir of the spirit
of Rūmī, the one who followed the same path as the father. Son of Rūmī and
of his second wife, Gawhar Khātūn (d. before 1229), Sultān Veled received
the name “son of the Sultan” because of his grandfather, called the Sultan of
the ‘Ulamā’, and because of his mother who was a Princess of Khwarezm. In
Aflākī’s work, which is rich in details about the tenderness of the relationship between father and son, one chapter is entirely devoted to this third
khalīfa of the tarīqa of the whirling dervishes.
Born in approximately 1226, Sultān Veled was about five when his
grandfather Bahā’ al-Dīn died. Aflākī notes that the newly born Sultān “con7
tinually slept in the arms of Mowlānā.” Often, when Rūmī wanted to perform the prayer of the night, his son used to begin to cry; in order “to make
Veled calm down Mowlānā would abandon the prayers and pick him up in
8
his arms.” Aflākī makes an interesting annotation of this paternal relationship, evoking a very deep transmission of spiritual power and charisma: “On
occasions when he wanted his mother’s milk, Mowlānā placed his own
blessed nipple in Veled’s mouth. By divine command, due to the extreme paternal kindness of: clear milk, tasty to those who drink it (Qur’ān 16, 66), pure
milk would flow forth so that Veled would drink his fill (sīr sīr) of that lion
9
(shīr) of higher meaning’s milk (shīr), and go to sleep.” This sentence is
6

7
8
9

Speros Vryonis, “The Muslim Family in 13th-14th Century Anatolia as Reflected in the
Writings of the Mawlawi Dervish Eflaki,” in Elizabeth Zachariadou, ed., Halcyon
days in Crete I. A symposium held in Rethymnon 11-13 January 1991. The Ottoman
Emirate 1300-1389, Rethumnon, Crete University Press, 1993, p. 214.
Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 547.
Ibid.
Ibid.

311

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

striking in its play on near-homophonic words. The verbal echo here leads
us to regard ‘milk’ and ‘secret’ as one and the same, and evokes the idea of
some intimate communication. Such extreme paternal kindness is the certain sign that Veled’s destiny was to be his father’s successor. There is also a
similarity between the physical transmission of spiritual power through the
body of Rūmī and that through the body of the Prophet Muhammad. In the
life of the Prophet, contact with the Prophet’s own bodily secretions is
presented as a guarantee of closeness with divine Revelation. Saliva, in particular, was believed to have a special capacity for communicating prophet10
ical charisma. Another interesting resemblance is represented by the reference to breastfeeding, a symbolically important act serving to establish fam11
ily relations. In the case of Rūmī, the father was so important that he was
able to play a maternal function. We might say that, in his dealings with his
son, Rūmī played the role of mother as well as father. This remark could introduce a delicate question of the feminine in the masculine relations, as a
deeper way to communicate the authority. But this would lead us far from
our present subject.
At the age of ten, Sultān Veled was deemed worthy to sit alongside his
father during the spiritual instructions of his disciples. Because of his wisdom, people thought that he was Rūmī’s brother. The spiritual communication is represented sometimes in some surprising physical actions: “It is said
that he [Rūmī] constantly put his blessed tongue in his mouth and would
12
lick it. And he would plant kisses on his face and hair.” The kiss by lips or
with the tongue was, especially in Semitic culture, a tradition. As we know,
Moses died after receiving God’s kisses, that is to say, after he received the
13
Spirit of God. The life of Sultān Veled seems to be modelled on the life of
his father, in the sense that he followed the path of Rūmī as a best disciple.
Several passages from Aflākī’s hagiography encourage this interpretation.
Father and son are repeatedly described as resembling each other, such as
when Rūmī says to Sultān Veled: “Bahāʾ al-Dīn, my coming into this world
is for the sake of your appearance. For all these words of mine are my

10 Denis Gril, “Le corps du Prophète,” Revue du Monde musulman et de la Méditerranée,
113-114, 2006, pp. 37-57.
11 See Avner Giladi, Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses: Medieval Islamic Views on BreastFeeding and Their Social Implications, Leiden, Brill, 1999.
12 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 548.
13 See Michael Fishbane, The Kiss of God. Spiritual and Mystical Death in Judaism,
Baltimore, University of Washington Press, 1994.

312

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”
14

speech, whereas you are my action.” The beloved son is the living speech
of the father, the true successor of the family heritage.
Aflākī continuously depicts the son as the image of the father, plausibly
in order to build up the hagiology of Sultān Veled. Like Rūmī, Sultān Veled
performed a retreat of forty days and nights, practicing fasting and the spiritual life. At the end, we read: “The revered father (vāled) saw that the Veled
(the son) was immersed in light and had taken on a wondrous appearance.
When Veled beheld the blessed face of his father, he lowered his head and
15
embraced his father’s foot and for a long time kissed it and licked it.” The
relationship between Rūmī and his son was so special that there would be a
temptation of sexual metaphor in describing the union of aims and
thoughts. As Mahdi Tourage has pointed out in his work, eroticism is a hermeneutic in Rūmī’s poetry, and it would not be surprising if the same hermeneutic began to be used by the first hagiographer and in Mevlevī histori16
ography. Yet, in our perspective, more relevant is the family scene described through the affectionate gestures. The humble devotion of the son
regarding the father is, as seen before, showed by the action – that is prob17
ably a true Sufi ritual – of bowing the head and embracing the feet. Such is
the paradigmatic humility that links the lowest member of the body, the
feet, and the highest member, the head. The hermeneutical circle is also represented by this gesture of humility where the highest reaches the lowest,
the intelligence bows to face the dust.
Sultān Veled received a special mission from his father. When Shams alDīn Tabrīzī left Konya under suspicion by Rūmī’s entourage of trying to
corrupt the Great Master, Sultān Veled was requested to depart in quest of
the mirror of Rūmī. This mirror was actually used to understand his relation
with Shams as a reflected image of himself. The mirror of Rūmī was in fact
Shams himself since, thanks to him, the great master could find his own self.
In 1246, the son reached Damascus to look for his father’s spiritual master.
He was successful, and Shams came back to Konya for a second period. For
Aflākī, the aim of the father was to make his son a disciple of the same master: “When Mowlānā made Veled a disciple of Mowlānā Shams al-Dīn-e
Tabrīzī – God sanctify their innermost secret – he said: ‘My Bahā’ al-Dīn does
14
15
16
17

Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 552.
Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 554.
Mahdi Tourage, Rūmī and the Hermeneutics of Eroticism, Leiden, Brill, 2007.
Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 559: “Valad immediately dismounted and placed his head on Mowlānā’s foot and sought forgiveness”; “Valad lowered his head and planted kisses on his father’s blessed foot”.

313

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

not eat hashish and never commits sodomy, because in the eyes of God the
Generous these two practices are highly uncommendable and blamewor18
thy.” If, in a way, this sentence risked admitting exactly what Rūmī was
trying to criticize, it explains also his concern for proposing Shams as a
model. The latter had been the master of the father, offering consequently a
potential model. But the true model for everyone was actually the son who,
according to the hagiographer, resembled the father. Besides, these practices
were among the usual criminal charges against the Qalandars’ movement
since the beginning of the Mevlevīs, therefore Aflākī needed to underline
19
the difference with Rūmī, acknowledging his awareness of the problem.
After the death of Shams (d. 1248), the master of Rūmī was Salāh ad-Dīn
Zarkūbī (d. 1258), then, after Zarkūbī’s death, Husām al-Dīn Çalabī (d. 1284)
became his third master. When Salāh al-Dīn Zarkūbī, the second spiritual
guide of the Great Master died, Sultān Veled was thirty-two. When his own
father left this world, in 1273, he was forty-two. At the death of Husām alDīn, the disciples of the mystical path (tarīqa) asked Sultān Veled to be their
new guide. At this time, Veled was forty-seven. According to the hagiography, he felt a heavy responsibility and incapacity to carry the order. One
night in a dream, he received the visit of Husām al-Dīn who encouraged
20
him to go ahead in the direction of the path. Only after this did Sultān
Veled humbly accept the task of carrying the new mystical path of his father. Aflākī relates also that one day, Rūmī was sitting in the blessed Madrasa
of Konya and his sons were sitting on his sides: Sultān Veled on his right
and ‘Alā’ al-Dīn on his left. Suddenly two persons came from the invisible
world and, after greeting Rūmī, took Veled by the hand and departed. After
a while, they came back to take Veled’s son and departed. When Alā’ al-Dīn
was wounded and died, Sultān Veled was left in this world for the reason
which his father himself revealed to his disciples: “This son is required by
human beings for the procreation of Bahā’-e Veled’s progeny – God sanctify
21
his innermost secret!” Aflākī adds that, after Rūmī’s death, Sultān Veled
lived on in tranquillity, writing three spiritual books and one volume of
poems. We read that “He filled the world with divine insights, higher truths
and wondrous secrets, and transformed many thick-headed fools into learned knowers of God and effective religious scholars. And he clarified and ex18 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 436.
19 İsmet Kayaoğlu, “Mevlâna’nın Çağdaşı Derviş Tarikatları, Babalar, Kalenderiler ve
Diğerleri,” Ankara Üniversitesi İlahiyat Fakültesi Dergisi, 31, 1988, pp. 147-155.
20 F.D. Lewis, Rumi. Past and Present, East and West, pp. 230-237.
21 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 561.

314

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

plained all his father’s words by means of wondrous parables and incomparable similitudes. Indeed, Sultān Valad was the secret cause of the arrival of
this hadith from the Prophet: ‘The son (valad) is the secret of the father’” (al
22
walad sirr abīhi).
Sultān Veled is thus the secret of Rūmī and, in this perspective, his essence. By following him, disciples were sure that they were on the right
path of the Great Master. Even before his death, Husām al-Dīn, the second
successor in the Mevlevī order, confirmed Veled and supported him with
words that sounded like an official Sufi investiture, in the uwaysī fashion
whereby a Sufi might be initiated into the mystical life without the real
presence of the master. In fact, Husām al-Dīn, giving his advice to Veled
who was in a state of personal anxiety and sorrow at the perspective of carrying the new-born Mevlevī Sufi order, invigorated him: “After my death
whenever you are confronted with a task and an important matter and a difficulty and a knot which you cannot deal with, I will come before you in an other appearance and present myself to you. I will take on the form of a lu minous body and manifest myself in various rays of light so that your difficulties will be resolved and the knots will be undone and you will have need
of no one else […] Know that in reality every form which comes before you
to give you spiritual guidance is I and none other than I and belongs to no
one but me. Likewise, at times I will reveal myself to you in a dream and
23
you will attain your religious and worldly goals through me.”
The seventh chapter of Aflākī’s hagiography of Rūmī is worthy of deep
study from a textual point of view. It contains an astonishing theme that recurs several times and which has already been alluded to in this article –
what could be called the face-to-face of the father and the son. For instance,
while Rūmī had a very pale complexion, according to a report of the minister Pervāna, the son was rather rosy-faced. The obvious question thus arises
why the son should have differed from his father in being rosy-faced, when
they were supposed to have the same physical facial characteristics. Aflākī
gives the answer immediately: “Valad, from the moment of his birth, was a
24
beloved, and beloveds possess a rosy hue and lips like Yemeni cornelian.”
The beloved, that is to say, is always distinguished by some incontrovertible
sign that everyone can recognize without difficulty. In the following paragraph, Aflākī returns to the same topic and reported a more fascinating and
22 Ibid.
23 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 564.
24 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 568.

315

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

interesting fact regarding the relationship between the two personalities. In
his own work, Veled writes as follows: “In the realm of youth it happened to
me that I did not see my father’s face for several days and I was overcome
with longing for him. Suddenly he summoned me. I went before him and
lowered my head. In a state of deep spiritual immersion he gazed at me pas sionately with a look so awesome that I lost my senses and my father too
lost his self-control. Then he gazed at me again with an awesome look and
again he lost his self-control. After a moment, he gazed at me a third time
with a look of mercy in such a way that I beheld myself completely eradic25
ated and non existent.” In the hagiography, Rūmī gave three religious as
well as spiritual reasons to appoint his son. But Veled’s own interpretation
appears more meaningful: “The royal crown he saw placed on top of my
head is in fact the shadow of his favour over my head. And the ear-ring
bearing a single pearl which he saw hanging from my ear is the innermost
26
secret of our Jalāl al-Dīn ‘Āref who came into being from me.” The secret
of the son is recorded in the father and the face is the living evidence of this
identity. There is a new birth of the father in the real son and, that is the
same, the real father still lives in the son. This relation is the foundation of a
lineage both physical and spiritual.
Clearly, the main purpose of the author is to create a true continuity
between the father and the son, in a physical sense as well as in spiritual
terms. The Sufi order, the Mevleviye, could not have been continued by
some outside personality. Its duration was a mark of religious fidelity to the
founder’s charisma and the reliability of the disciples. As a rule, a Sufi order
can keep its own mission as long as its members can stand on true spiritual
permanence. This stability is represented by the oneness of mystical witness. From this same point of view, the fact that Sultān Veled, in his own
books, borrowed a lot from Rūmī’s poems without quoting the author – his
father – is perhaps a sign of this, and a will to present a consistent scenario.
The family is sanctified by the Great Master, the father; but all family members felt a kind of shared charisma. At least that is the picture we get from
Aflākī and his masterful hagiography.

Rūmī’s vita brevior
Sultān Veled, in his writing on the beginnings of the Mevleviye, asserts that,
seven years after Husām al-Dīn, another beloved disciple, Kerīm al-Dīn, dir25 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 569.
26 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 570.

316

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

ected the path. Unlike this version, Aflākī himself stated that the successor
27
was Husām al-Dīn and made no mention of Kerīm al-Dīn except for citing
him as a lofty personage worthy of respect and consideration. Rūmī, after
some wise words pronounced by Kerīm al-Dīn, replied: “This thought is not
28
found written in any book.” Aflākī only mentions this brief reference to
Kerīm al-Dīn while, in the eyes of Sultān Veled but also of Sipehsālār, this
same person was one of the spiritual masters of the Mevleviye after Rūmī’s
death. It seems then that the hereditary succession was not the only option.
In the opinion of Modern scholars of the Mevleviye, the fourteenth century
treatise of Sipehsālār is worthy of consideration. Sipehsālār was one of the
companions of the Mevleviye order a century after Rūmī’s death. He did not
personally meet Rūmī, therefore his description of the very first paths of the
Mevlevī dervishes was based on recorded traditions. He himself wrote a life
of Rūmī, devoting a chapter to his son, but it is totally different in shape and
style from Aflākī’s work. The tenderness and the feelings tying Rūmī and
his son to each other are nowhere recorded. The image of Sultān Veled that
comes out from the pages of Sipehsālār’s treatise is rather pale. The bulk of
Sipehsālār’s hagiography focuses on the mystical personality of the founder.
This biography is more a hagiography than a work of history and of interpretation of a spiritual story. A century after the founder’s death, the idealistic construction of Rūmī’s family power was well established. The Çelebī
became an almost official institution in the religious system and close to the
political power. They no longer needed to resort to an ideal construction of
the spiritual power of the family. As such domination appeared as an undisputed matter of fact, the members of the Mevleviye could now concentrate
their efforts on understanding the charisma of their Great Master Rūmī.
Sipehsālār detailed Veled’s progeny that Aflākī was only able to imagine. When Sipehsālār composed his work, Veled had been followed in turn
by four successors: Çelebī ‘Ārif (d. 1312), Çelebī ‘Ābid (d. 1320), Çelebī Zāhid
27 Sultān Walad, Ibtidānāme, Tehran, Khorezmī, 1389, p. 312; Sultan Veled, Bahaeddin
Muhammed Veled, İbtidaname, Turkish version by Abdülbaki Gölpınarlı, Konya,
Konya Turizm Derneği, 1976, p. 316; Sultan Valad, La parole secrète : l’enseignement
du maître soufi Rûmî, transl. by Eva de Vitray-Meyerovitch, Paris, Sindbad, 1982, p.
236; Hülya Küçük, “Sultan Veled’in İbtida-Name’sine göre Mevlevi Halifeleri / The
Caliphs of Mevlevi According to Sultan Walad’s İbtidaname,” in Nuri Şimşekler, ed.,
3. Uluslararası Mevlana Kongresi / 3rd International Mevlana Congress: Bildiriler,
Konya, Selçuk Üniversitesi, 2004, pp. 85-94; Mehmet Önder, “Mevlevîliğin Sistemleşmesi, Sultan Veled ve Diğer Postnişînler,” in N. Şimsekler, ed., Konya’dan
Dünya’ya Mevlâna ve Mevlevîlik, pp. 131-150.
28 Aflākī, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), p. 123.

317

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

– who was not officially regarded as one of Rūmī’s successors – and finally
29
Çelebī Wājid (d. 1342). As a matter of fact, the family members are all Çelebī, a word meaning in general ‘illustrious’ but also giving an idea of the divine, as we said before. From that time on, Rūmī’s descendants were the
Great Masters of the Mevleviye, and they maintained the principle according to which the Sufi order was directed, both spiritually and temporally, by
the family.
Just after naming the succeeding masters, Sipehsālār recounted the
death of Rūmī’s son. This report is interesting for different reasons. Çelebī
‘Ārif, the first son, invites his friends and his disciples as well as Shams’ disciples to be near him during the last hours of his life, but he did not allow
the others – meaning the people outside of the spiritual circle – to stay by
30
his sickbed. This detail is of importance since, on the one hand, only the
disciples of Veled and Shams were accepted by Çelebī ‘Ārif. On the other
hand, we know that at that time, two currents coexisted explicitly: Veled’s
branch and Shams’ branch of the Mevleviye. Did two different sides of the
order really exist? If they existed, which role did they play in the transmission of Rūmī’s spirit? The existence of both orientations seems a quite well
accepted element in the history of the Mevleviye; in some cases, it is easy to
show the direct influence of Shams and, accordingly, an orientation towards
31
Shi‘ism, with the help of the Safavid power. Why did Sipehsālār feel the
need to write that there were two orders of disciples, affiliated respectively
with Veled and with Shams? Furthermore, why did Sipehsālār note the exclusion of certain people from Veled’s house, while his father’s burial was a
triumph, being attended by people from different religious communities living in Konya? Did the perspective change entirely? It is likely that disciples
of Rūmī kept the charisma of the Great Master for their own circle before
sharing it with others. Rūmī was the master of several disciples, but his own
son Veled was probably the most important element for the organization of
the Sufi authority. In Rūmī’s eyes, the spiritual power must be shared firstly
with the family and then with the other disciples. Perhaps, Rūmī followed
the Shi‘i paradigm of the transmission of religious authority, a paradigm in
which the love between the Prophet and ‘Alī gave authority to Alī’s lineage.
29 Faridūn b. Ahmad Sipahsālār, Risāla-i Sipahsālār dar manāqib-i hazrat-i
khodāvandgār, ed. Muhammad Afshīn Vafā’ī, Tehran, Sukhan, 2006, p. 126.
30 Ibid.
31 Yusuf Küçükdağ, “Osmanlı Devleti’nin Safeviye Tarikatı Propagandalarına karşı
Mevleviliği Örgütlemesi,” in id., Türk Aleviliği Araştırmaları, Konya, Çizgi Kitabevi
Yayınları, 2010, pp. 111-131.

318

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

In fact, if some disciples who did not belong to the family, such as Husām
al-Dīn, gained some spiritual authority, the authority always came back to
the hands of the Rūmī’s descendant. The first period of the order’s history
shows a tendency to keep the power in the hand of the family to guarantee
the ideal true religious authority. Did this tendency verge on endogamy?
This remains an open question, though it appears that members of the order
did practice endogamy at specific periods of history, especially in the nineteenth century.
In any case, Veled’s death marked a change of hagiographical orientation. A century after the founder’s death, the Sufi order of Mevlevīs experienced different trends in terms of its religious path and rituals. The relationship that existed between Rūmī and his son was – in the eyes of Sipehsālār
– less meaningful as far as family feelings, shared thoughts and poetry, even
similarity of face were concerned. What remained was what we might term
the policy of piety. Sipehsālār was more aware of the diverging trends of the
Mevleviye, and sought in his work to evoke the differing nuances as well as
the overarching unity of the Sufi order. This seems to have been a political
as well as spiritual concern, quite understandably in so far as the descendants of Rūmī were the successive leaders of a growing Sufi order.

Between Ottoman Hagiography and Historiography
Two other Persian sources – the Nafahāt al-Uns of ‘Abd al-Rahmān Jāmī (d.
1492) and the Tazkira-i shu‘arā of Dawlatshāh (d. 1495) – provide no information about the relationship between the father and the son. As for the
Ottoman sources, they still need deep enquiry and a full study before one
can profitably exploit the richness of the texts. Ottoman sources on Rūmī
and the Mevleviye have been studied primarily by Turkish scholars, mostly
from a theological point of view. As Ahmet Yaşar Ocak pointed out some
decades ago, Ottoman Sufi literature – and above all the hagiographies –
32
still needs a different, more critical approach. In this respect, Ottoman hagiographies about Rūmī are lacking in the Mevlevī panorama, even though
33
general interest is increasing and giving more and more results. To this
32 Ahmet Yaşar Ocak, “Türkiye’de 1980 Sonrası Tasavvuf tarihi araştırmalarına genel
bir bakış,” Toplumsal Tarih, 108, 2002, pp. 10-19; Ahmet Yaşar Ocak, Kültür tarihi
Kaynağı olarak Menâkıbnameler (Metodolojik Bir Yaklaşım), Ankara, Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1992.
33 Arzu Öztürkmen, “Orality and Performance in Late Medieval Turkish Texts: Epic
Tales, Hagiographies, and Chronicles,” Text and Performance Quarterly, 29, 2009, pp.
327-345; Fatih Bayram, “A Sufi Saint across Centuries: The Analysis of the Makalat-i

319

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

day, for instance, no scholar has ever tried to compare the differing Ottoman translations of the Persian materials, and most of these primary sources
remain unpublished. Given this state of affairs, it is difficult to say how
much of the Persian-language memory of the Mevleviye passed into the Ottoman consciousness. Yet, with the few available materials, we can at least
imagine how that historiography has been transformed.
The first hagiography produced in Ottoman Turkish, the Menākib-i
Mevlānā of the Mevlevī author Lokmānī Dede (d. 1519), devotes some verses
34
to Sultān Veled. The work of Lokmānī, who was in charge of the shrine of
Rūmī in Konya, is a mix between the two major hagiographies in Persian.
Lokmānī saw in a dream that he had to write the life of his Great Master. He
went to work and composed in verse his biography of Rūmī. The work was
dedicated to Sultan Bayazid II. Lokmānī wrote 4428 double verses in the ancient Ottoman language, quoting several poems in Persian, but stopped
short on Veled’s relationship with his father. He reports that “the Servant of
35
the Saints, Jalāl al-Dīn / his son was Veled Bahā’ al-Dīn.” Immediately afterwards, he lists the next two successors of Rūmī, Salāh al-Dīn and Husām
al-Dīn, adding no one else. Lokmānī depicts Veled as one who knew the
spiritual stations and who wrote on them with science and personal experience. He knew the secret and the inner life and, as Lokmānī claims, “Shams
and Molla Veled were the same / together they were patient and impas36
sioned.” Interestingly, two different persons, related to Rūmī in differing
ways – the first being his Master, the second his son – were identified as the
same subject. The reason is to stress the filiation of Veled from his father
through also his direct master – and in a sense disciple – Shams. In other
words, Veled was certainly the son of Rūmī, but also the son of the spiritual
father of his true father. This identification of Shams and Veled is quite surprising. One way to understand this is to recall the risk of division of the
Mevleviye order into two branches. The fourteenth century author added
that Shams and Veled were the light of the two worlds: “Shams and the
Molla of Rūm’s country, Sultān Veled / for ever and ever were the light of
37
the world.” Veled was close to Shams. He was his disciple, and thus was
full of wisdom: “Sultān Veled became Shams’ disciple / his heart and soul
Seyyid Harun,” Turcica, 40, 2008, pp. 7-36.
34 Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, ed. Halil Ersoylu, Ankara, Türk Dil Kurumu
Yayınları, 2001.
35 Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 80, vv. 779-780.
36 Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 167, vv. 1588-1589
37 Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 189, vv. 1752-1753.

320

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”
38

were fulfilled by wisdom.” The relation between Shams and Veled is depicted by Lokmānī as almost secret; when they conversed, they exchanged the
truths of inner life: “Shams and the Molla Sultān Veled / were accustomed to
39
talking secretly.” On the path of Rūmī, Lokmānī was well aware that after
Veled came his son, but the way of writing down the succession is also a
sign of a different perception: “Now the one like Sultān Veled comes! / Also
40
like the son will he come?” Another element in Lokmānī’s poem describes
Veled and his father as a symbol of passionate love, interpreted by the entourage as a divine sign: “Look at Molla with Sultan Veled / A symbol with
41
passionate love, how they are a sign!” Throughout the finale of the hagiography, Lokmānī explains that Veled and his son were the knowers of Love:
“The Prince Sultān Veled and ‘Ārif / were knowers of love with heart and
42
soul.”
Lokmānī’s hagiography does not record the tenderness of Rūmī and
Veled as depicted in Aflākī, nor does it resort to the angle of approach used
in the treatise of Sipehsālār. It does however show a Veled very close to
Shams, sharing the secrets of Rūmī. This portrait needs to be compared with
an aspect of Aflākī’s Manāqib al-‘ārifīn: it is not certain that some sections
where Aflākī stresses the tenderness and the very special relationship between father and son were translated. The transmission of a more simple
hagiography is likely to be the basis for a new Ottoman historiography with
regard to the Mevleviye. Working from such a basis, Sultān Veled is seen,
first and foremost, as the successor of Rūmī.
Trabzonlu Köseç Ahmet Dede’s (d. 1777) treatise in Arabic entitled EtTuhfetü’l-behiyye fi’t-Tarikati’l-Mevlevîyye Tercümesi (Zâviye-i fukarâ), translated into Modern Turkish by a Mevlevī of modern times, Ahmet Remzi
Akyürek (d. 1944), offers the reader selected passages with regard to Rūmī
43
and his son. This eighteenth century work carefully recounts a more intimate relationship, even if the general sensibility aims to preserve as the
main axis of the story the continuity between father and son. Several spir itually-turned sentences are nevertheless dedicated to filial love. Con38
39
40
41
42
43

Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 172, vv. 1627-1628.
Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 175, vv. 1658-1659
Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 239, vv. 2183-2184.
Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 263, vv. 2393-2394.
Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, p. 470, vv. 4357-4358.
Trabzonlu Köseç Ahmet Dede, Et-Tuhfetü’l-behiyye fi’t-Tarikati’l-Mevlevîyye Tercümesi (Zâviye-i fukarâ). Mevlevîlik Âdâbı, Anektodlar, ed. Ali Üremiş, Trabzon,
Serander, 2008, pp. 76-100.

321

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

sequently, the more historical works of the Mevleviye, such as Sefīne-i nefīse-i Mevleviyān of Sākıb Mustafā Dede (d. 1735), bypass the time of the
44
foundation of the Sufi order. In such cases, no information about Rūmī and
his son is provided. The authoritative book in Sākıb Mustafā’s age was
Aflākī’s hagiography together with different Ottoman translations of that
work. A later Ottoman historical work concerning the Mevlevī order is the
Mecmuatü’t-Tevarīhi’l-Mevleviye by the Mevlevī author Sahīh Ahmed Dede
45
(d. 1813). He has a few words to say about Veled, though more than in
Lokmānī’s hagiography. However, in terms of the filial relationship, the information remains poor.
In one of the last biographies of Rūmī composed at the end of the Ottoman era, the name of Sultān Veled is not even mentioned. Surprisingly, even
an author such as Osman Behçet does not even list the names of the sons of
46
the mystic of Konya. Another important work from the end of the Ottoman Empire, the Sefīne-i Evliyā, contains a short chapter on the second successor of the Mevleviye, but there is no information about any feelings
47
between the two.
Browsing through Ottoman literature of different genres (hagiography,
historical records, poems, biography), one finds that the most noteworthy
fact recorded about Sultān Veled is that he was the intermediary between
Rūmī’s entourage and Shams, the unruly friend of God, during periods of
controversy. As mentioned above, Shams was a prey of the circle of the
Great Master. Fuat Köprülü (d. 1966), a Turkish scholar who experienced the
transition from the Ottoman Empire to the Turkish Republic, stamped a particular vision of Turkishness on Turkish Sufi studies. In his masterpiece,
Early Mystics in Turkish Literature, he quotes Sultān Veled, stressed that he
left some poems in Turkish, but concludes with a synthesis that, in its simplicity, depicts as reality the character from Aflākī’s time. Koprülü writes:
“Sultān Walad, who desired nothing more than to propagate the Sufi principles that his father had put forward, and whose personality therefore never emerges as distinct from that of his father, tried to compose in Turkish
according to the examples of Persian Sufi literature. Mawlānā’s influence on
44 Sākıb Dede, Sefīne-i nefīse-i Mevleviyān, Cairo, Bulaq, 1283/1866-67.
45 Seyyid Ahmed Dede, Mevlevîlerin Tarihi. Mecmûatü’t-Tevârîhi’l-Mevleviyye, ed. Cem
Zorlu, Istanbul, İnsan Yayınları, 2003.
46 Osman Behçet (Kadıköy Sultânîsi muallimlerinden), Mevlâna Celâleddin Rûmî
Hayatı ve Yolu, ed. Dilaver Gürer, Konya, Rûmî Yayınları, 2007, p. 62.
47 Osmânzâde Hüseyin Vassâf, Sefîne-i Evliyâ, ed. Mehmet Akkuş and Ali Yılmaz,
Istanbul, Kitabevi, 2006, vol. 1, pp. 388-389.

322

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

Turkish poetry, just as it was in composing and reciting Persian poetry, was
to raise the religious consciousness of the people of Anatolia, to guide them,
48
and instill in them a sense of the greatness of Mawlānā.” Fuat Köprülü also
stresses the dependence of Sultān Veled on his father. He speaks the truth
with regard to the first sources, but makes no mention of the intimate family feelings that are constitutive of the Persian records.
The samples used in Ottoman texts lead the reader to a more official in terpretation of the relation between Rūmī and his son. The widely varying
texts analysed here allow us to assume that the Ottoman tradition switched
from hagiographical to ideological discourse, in terms of legitimation and
institutionalization of the tarīqa. The Ottomans were more interested in focusing on the continuity of the Sufi order than in a picture of a family circle.
It seems that the Ottoman tradition was being impoverished by maintaining
a doctrine about the organization of the order and its foundation. Sultān
Veled was after all a member of Rūmī’s family and, because of their blood
49
relationship, a Great Master himself, a successor of Rūmī.

Conclusion:
the Politics of the Spiritual Feelings
This excursion might appear too rapid in terms of the materials studied and
the different genres of the texts. The differences in historical and political
contexts should not be underestimated. From Seljuk times to the Ottoman
and the late Ottoman Empire, Sufi understanding of the order’s organization
was obviously more elaborate than it was during the thirteenth century. The
Sufi order’s self-perception, its rituals and structure represented the aim of
the mystical path. In this perspective, it is not surprising that Rūmī and his
son Sultān Veled’s relationship has been depicted differently throughout the
ages. In contrast to the tenderness of the first days, Ottoman tradition seems
to play down the representation of family feelings. Instead, it placed more
importance on the legal status of the son. Sultān Veled emerged as the one
in the family who had succeeded in taking back the right of family succession at the head of the Mevleviye order. His succession marked a turning
point. Aflākī recorded this important transition in the lineage of the Sufi order.
48 Mehmed Fuad Köprülü, Early Mystics in Turkish Literature, ed. Robert Dankoff and
Gary Leiser, London-New York, Routledge, 2006, p. 208.
49 Ekrem Işın, “Mevleviliğin Tarihsel Temelleri: Sultan Veled ve Çelebilik Makamının
Kuruluşu,” in N. Şimşekler, ed., 3. Uluslararası Mevlana Kongresi, pp. 95-98.

323

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

Over the centuries, especially during the Ottoman period, writers –
mostly among the Mevlevī – set aside the very tender feelings depicted by
Aflākī. Spiritual identity became focused on the continuity of a family tradition. We thus find ourselves witnessing the origins of the Çelebī power
base. Ottoman tradition did not elaborate on the identity between the father
and the son. But beyond this family intimacy, we find references to the family institution, more precisely the idea that the son is the secret of the father,
a secret the one receives from the other. This transmission created a new
master that the reader could not ignore. The distancing of these family feelings over the centuries, mostly in the literary production rather than in orally transmitted traditions, leads to a different conclusion on the nature of
spiritual identity. By focusing on the authoritative and spiritual law of the
succession and inheritance, to the detriment of family feelings, Mevlevīs
promoted the adoption of a more official, hermeneutic and less mystical
stance. The Ottoman tradition lost the mystic element of filial attachment in
its desire to equate family lineage with authorised, legitimate succession.
To sum up, we can say that a mysticism of holy family gave way to a
mysticism of family lineage, which was not quite the same thing. In all likelihood, Sultān Veled himself was aware of this spiritual nuance, as we see in
a poem that foresaw the Mevleviye’s progress while losing sight of the mystic character of the family, and with which we close our inquiry: “Your servant without your meeting didn’t stay / He’s gone, but his image is not far /
Since the day Mevlānā is gone from this world / the world faded, and the
50
light is no longer the same.”

Bibliography
Primary sources
Aflākī, Shams al-Dīn Ahmad, Manāqib al-‘Ārifīn, ed. T. Yazıcı, Istanbul, Türk
Tarihi Kurumu Basımevi, 1961.
Id., The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn), transl. John O’Kane,
Leiden, Brill, 2002.
Behçet, Osman, Mevlâna Celâleddin Rûmî Hayatı ve Yolu, ed. Dilaver Gürer,
Konya, Rûmî Yayınları, 2007.
Lokmâni Dede, Menâkıb-i Mevlânâ, ed. Halil Ersoylu, Ankara, Türk Dil Kurumu
Yayınları, 2001.
50 Sultan Veled, Rubailer, ed. Veyis Değirmençay, Istanbul, Kurtuba Kitap, 2010, pp. 7071; Hülya Küçük, “Sultān Walad’s Understanding of Sufism: Between Populism and
Theosophy,” Asian Journal of Social Science, 38, 2010, pp. 60-78.

324

“THE SON IS THE SECRET OF THE FATHER”

Sâkıb Dede, Sefine-i nefîse-i Mevleviyân, Cairo, Bulaq, 1283/1866-67.
Seyyid Ahmed Dede, Mevlevîlerin Tarihi. Mecmûatü’t-Tevârîhi’l-Mevleviyye, ed.
Cem Zorlu, Istanbul, İnsan Yayınları, 2003.
Sipahsālār, Faridūn b. Ahmad, Risāla-i Sipahsālār dar manāqib-i hazrat-i
khodāvandgār, ed. Muhammad Afshīn Vafā’ī, Tehran, Sukhan, 1385/2006.
Sultān Walad, Ibtidānāme, Tehran, Khorezmī, 1389/2011.
Id., İbtidaname, Turkish version by Abdülbaki Gölpınarlı, Konya, Konya Turizm
Derneği, 1976.
Id., La parole secrète : l’enseignement du maître soufi Rûmî, transl. by Eva de
Vitray-Meyerovitch, Paris, Sindbad, 1982.
Id., Rubailer, ed. Veyis Değirmençay, Istanbul, Kurtuba Kitap, 2010.
Trabzonlu Köseç Ahmet Dede, Et-Tuhfetü’l-behiyye fi’t-Tarikati’l-Mevlevîyye
Tercümesi (Zâviye-i fukarâ). Mevlevîlik Âdâbı, Anektodlar, ed. Ali Üremiş,
Trabzon, Serander, 2008.
Vassâf, Osmânzâde Hüseyin, Sefîne-i Evliyâ, ed. Mehmet Akkuş and Ali Yılmaz,
Istanbul, Kitabevi, 2006, vol. 1.

Studies
Ambrosio, Alberto Fabio, Ève Feuillebois-Pierunek, Thierry Zarcone, Les
derviches tourneurs. Doctrine, histoire et pratiques, Paris, Cerf, 2006.
Ambrosio, Alberto Fabio, Dervisci. Storia, antropologia, mistica, Roma, Carocci
editore, 2011.
Anvar-Chenderoff, Leili, Rûmî, Paris, Editions Entrelacs, 2004.
Bayram, Fatih, “A Sufi Saint across Centuries: The Analysis of the Makalat-i
Seyyid Harun,” Turcica, 40, 2008, pp. 7-36.
Chittick, William, The Sufi Path of Love. The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi, Albany,
State University of New York Press, 1983.
Çıpan, Mustafa, “Mevlevîlik Terimleri,” in Nuri Şimsekler, ed., Konya’dan
Dünya’ya Mevlâna ve Mevlevîlik, Konya, Karatay Belediyesi, 2002,
pp. 165-178.
Dahlén, Ashk P., “Female Sufi Saints and Disciples: Women in the life of Jalāl aldīn Rūmī,” Orientalia Suecana, LVII, 2008, pp. 46–62.
Fishbane, Michael, The Kiss of God. Spiritual and Mystical Death in Judaism,
Baltimore, University of Washington Press, 1994.
Giladi, Avner, Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses: Medieval Muslim Views on
Breastfeeding and Their Social Implications, Leiden, Brill, 1999.
Gölpınarlı, Abdülbâki, Mevlânâ’dan sonra Mevlevilik, Istanbul, İnkılâp ve Aka,
1982.
Gril, Denis, « Le Corps du Prophète », in Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Bernard
Heyberger, eds., Le Corps et le sacré en Orient musulman, Revue des Mondes
musulmans et de la Méditerranée, 113-114, 2006, pp. 37-57.

325

ALBERTO FABIO AMBROSIO

Işın, Ekrem, “İstanbulda Mevlevi Şeyh aileleri ve Mevleviliğin bir imparatorluk
tarikatı olarak örgütlenmesi,” in Emrehan Küey, ed., Birinci uluslararası
Mevlana, mesnevi ve mevlevihaneler sempozyumu bildirileri, Manisa, Celal
Bayar Üniversitesi, 2002, pp. 33-40.
Id., “Mevleviliğin Tarihsel Temelleri: Sultan Veled ve Çelebilik Makamının
Kuruluşu,” in Nuri Şimşekler, ed., 3. Uluslararası Mevlana Kongresi / 3rd
International Mevlana Congress: Bildiriler, Konya, Selçuk Üniversitesi, 2004,
pp. 95-98.
Kayaoğlu, İsmet, “Mevlâna’nın Çağdaşı Derviş Tarikatları, Babalar, Kalenderiler
ve Diğerleri,” Ankara Üniversitesi İlahiyat Fakültesi Dergisi, 31, 1988, pp.
147-155.
Köprülü, Mehmed Fuad, Early Mystics in Turkish Literature, ed. Robert Dankoff
and Gary Leiser, London-New York, Routledge, 2006.
Küçük, Hülya, “Sultan Veled’in İbtida-Name’sine göre Mevlevi Halifeleri /
The Caliphs of Mevlevi According to Sultan Walad’s İbtidaname,” in
N. Şimşekler, ed., 3. Uluslararası Mevlana Kongresi, pp. 85-94.
Id., “Sultān Walad’s Understanding of Sufism: Between Populism and
Theosophy,” Asian Journal of Social Science, 38, 2010, pp. 60-78.
Küçükdağ, Yusuf, “Osmanlı Devleti’nin Safeviye Tarikatı Propagandalarına karşı
Mevleviliği Örgütlemesi,” in id., Türk Aleviliği Araştırmaları, Konya, Çizgi
Kitabevi Yayınları, 2010, pp. 111-131.
Lewis, Franklin D., Rumi. Past and Present, East and West. The Life, Teaching and
Poetry of Jalâl al-Din Rumi, Oxford, Oneworld Publications, 2000.
Ocak, Ahmet Yaşar, Kültür tarihi Kaynağı olarak Menâkıbnameler (Metodolojik
Bir Yaklaşım), Ankara, Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1992.
Id., “Türkiye’de 1980 Sonrası Tasavvuf tarihi araştırmalarına genel bir bakış,”
Toplumsal Tarih, 108, 2002, pp. 10-19.
Önder, Mehmet, “Mevlevîliğin Sistemleşmesi, Sultan Veled ve Diğer
Postnişînler,” in N. Şimsekler, ed., Konya’dan Dünya’ya Mevlâna ve
Mevlevîlik, pp. 131-150.
Öztürkmen, Arzu, “Orality and Performance in Late Medieval Turkish Texts:
Epic Tales, Hagiographies, and Chronicles,” Text and Performance
Quarterly, 29, 2009, pp. 327-345.
Vryonis, Speros, “The Muslim Family in 13th-14th Century Anatolia as Reflected
in the Writings of the Mawlawi Dervish Eflaki,” in Elizabeth Zachariadou,
ed., Halcyon days in Crete I. A symposium held in Rethymnon 11-13 January
1991. The Ottoman Emirate 1300-1389, Rethumnon, Crete University Press,
1993, pp. 213-223.

326

The Saint as Ancestor in some Sufi
and Ismaili Communities of the Sindhi Area

Michel Boivin
My intention here is to introduce a few clues in support of what I propose as
my hypothesis, that the cult of the ancestors, a well known feature of Indian
culture, was slowly replaced by the cult of the Prophet’s family, i.e. the Ahle bayt, among new Muslim communities in the Indo-Pakistan Subcontinent.
Among the Hindu-originated section of the Muslim population, which is to
say the great majority, the figure of the holy mediator, whether a Shi‘i imam
or a Sufi saint, came to serve as a symbolic substitute for people’s ancestors.
Over the course of time, the worship of ancestors was reconstructed in a
new shape, with the focus of devotion shifting from the real family to a
metaphorical one. This does not mean that Muslims stopped paying respects
to their dead, but such practices ceased to be the core of social life as is the
case in the Hindu system.
The continuity between the worship of ancestors and the cult of saints
has already been highlighted in a number of academic works. In a volume
devoted to the “Potent Dead”, Chambert-Loir and Reid explored the topic
with reference to Indonesia. In the introduction, they pointed out that in no
society of the world does the worship of ancestors constitute a religion in
and of itself, and nor does the cult of saints. In this essay, I focus on ancest ors as “forebears regarded as more potent than others, whose prominence
1
the society acknowledges.” I use the word “saint” in the Islamic context as
a charismatic figure with supernatural attributes; I am aware also that there
are different categories of saints. Although the Shi‘ites would never agree
with me, I include the Shi‘i imams inside a broad category of sainthood. Last
but not least, while the word ‘family’ looks like being one of the most common in the European languages, it is not easy to give a Sindhi equivalent
term, since half a dozen words are used to denote several related ideas.
Here, the family refers to an array of notions like lineages (khāndāns,
nukhs), clans (qabilos), castes (jātis), and the very polysemous term of qawm
(tribe, nation). As Thierry Bianquis observed for the Arab or Muslim family,
1

See Henri Chambert-Loir and Anthony Reid, The Potent Dead: Ancestors, Saints and
Heroes in Contemporary Indonesia, Crows Nest, Allen & Unwin-Honolulu, University
of Hawai’i Press, 2002, p. xix.

327

MICHEL BOIVIN

so too would it be vain to look for a single paradigm of the Indian family
2
unit.

Various Types of Ancestors’ Worship in Sindhi Culture
Before entering into details, I should note that the sources for such a study
are scarce, and that I have had to interweave my reading of historical written sources with oral traditions and personal observations. I have opted also
to confine my discussion to a specific region of the Indian Subcontinent that
is Southern Indus Valley, better known as Sindh. To substantiate my aforementioned hypothesis, I shall give an outline of the cult of ancestors in nineteenth century South Asia, mainly drawn from colonial sources. In the
second part of this paper, I shall consider the Hindu origins of the worship
of divine ancestors, and shall attempt to trace the little-documented transitional phase in the decline of such practices with reference to the decreasing frequency with divine predecessors are mentioned. In the third part, I
shall examine the spread of the new cult of the ancestors, namely metaphorical forefathers as opposed to “real” family ancestors. In the last part of the
paper, I shall offer one final argument for the shift through feeding rituals.

An Outline of the Cult of Ancestors in Nineteenth Century India
While the tribal sanctification works in many segments of Sindhi society,
other traditions in terms of worship of ancestors prevail in Hindu castes. I
shall give two examples: the Rajputs and the Thakurs. According to their
own tradition, the Rajputs (“sons of the king,” namely the princes) are the
descendants of the kings whose exploits are sung in the Rāmāyana and the
3
Mahābhārata. But as is the case in many Indian castes, archaeological and
epigraphic data show that they should rather be the descendants of a number of non-Hindu tribes which came to India with the Huns in the sixth century. Since for ruling they need the religious legitimacy from the Brahmans,
2

3

Thierry Bianquis, La famille arabe médiévale, Paris, Armand Colin, 1986, p. 51. On
the Indian family, see Henri Stern, “Le pouvoir dans l’Inde traditionnelle : territoire,
caste et parenté. Approche théorique et régionale (Rajasthan),” L’Homme, 13/1-2,
1973, pp. 50-70.
The Rāmāyana and the Mahābhārata are among the Hindu sacred scriptures. Composed about the fourth century in Sanskrit, the Rāmāyana is an epic poetry narrating the war led by the god Rama from the Ganga plain to the south of India, including Ceylon Island. The Mahābhārata, also composed in Sanskrit, is about the war between two clans of a same dynasty for the power. The right one is helped by the god
Vishnu who incarnated in Krishna and fought beside them.

328

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

they became most respectful of Hindu orthodoxy so that when the Muslims
4
invaded India, they appeared as the main defenders of the Hindu tradition.
In Sindh, the Rajputs belong even today to a dominant caste, settled in
the south-eastern part of the state known as Thar Parkar. This region bor ders with two Indian states, Gujarat and Rajasthan. At the beginning of the
nineteenth century, when the British officer James Todd travelled in the
Rajput states, including the present-day Thar Parkar, he was able to collect a
number of Rajput genealogies. The Rajput clans claim to be the descendants
of the divinities of the Hindu pantheon. The Parmar Rajputs for example
5
were the sons of the god Agni (the fire). A most important Rajput lineage in
Sindh, the Sodha Rajputs, is a subdivision of the Parmars. This construction
was relevant at many levels indeed since being from divine descent allows
the Rajputs to claim a higher status than other Indian populations.
Thus, in Indian culture, claiming divine ancestors is finally an argument
to show that human beings are coming from the gods: there is no disruption
6
between the heaven, the gods’ place, and earth. Among the Thakurs, who
are a priestly caste, it is a fact that they claim to come from gods. The Thak urs are the priests of the god Udero Lāl, also known as Daryā Shāh, a divine
figure of the Indus River who is said to be an avatar of the Vedic god Var una. After partition in 1947, they migrated to India and their main temple
near Hyderabad is nowadays looked after by local servants. Although the
Thakurs are supposed to be the descendants of Udero Lāl’s cousin Pugar,
they obviously built a new “divine” genealogy. A chart drafted by Tejbhān
7
Thakur Bansilāl clearly claims that the Thakurs, as members of the Raghuvanshī dynasty, are the descendants of the god Surya. Another Thakur
8
genealogy nevertheless brings all the cast fellows back to the god Varuna.
4
5
6
7

8

On the Raputs, see again Henri Stern, “Le pouvoir dans l’Inde traditionnelle.”
James Todd, Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, New Delhi, Oriental Books Reprint
Corporation, 2 volumes [1829-1832], 1983, p. 75.
In Indo-Aryan languages, the word thakur most generally has a meaning close to
“master”. It will only be used in the specific meaning. In this study, the name Thakur
refers to the priestly caste of Udero Lāl.
Interview with Tejbhān Thakur Bansilāl, Ulhasnagar, March 2011. Tejbhān Thakur
Bansilāl is 79 years old and he came to Ulhasnagar, near Mumbai, in 1947 with his
family. He was from Sehwan Sharif, where an important temple devoted to Udero
Lāl was settled.
Unfortunately, the sources related to Udero Lāl are scarce. They appear towards the
end of the nineteenth century. Some writers stated that the word Udero came from
Varuna. See for example Thakur Bansī Lāl Sā’īn and Thakur Derhyā Hidanumāl
Sāhab (Bhudā’ī Sewhānī), Dharam rakshīk Shrī Varun Bhagwān jal jotī āvtār Shrī
Āmar Udero Lāl sāhab jo itihās, Ulhāsnagar, 1980, p. 26. Varuna is a main figure of

329

MICHEL BOIVIN

What we can see here is that the worship of ancestors was merged into the
worship of the gods. To some extent, worshipping the ancestors was also
worshipping the gods, and vice versa. Let us now turn to the Muslims for
exploring whether they perform such worship.

Tribal Worship among the Muslims
Although the aims and means of the “islamization” of the Indian populations are still debated by scholars, the process by which Hindus became
Muslims was nevertheless a long and gradual one. Since the worship of ancestors was a core of family structure in non-Muslim groups, one can ask
how it could be removed from the new practical framework. Different answers were proposed by communities.
If we turn to North Sindh, in the region of Larkana, we find that the
countryside is full of tombs, sometimes mausoleums, devoted to tribal chiefs
(sardār) who have died on the battlefield. In a recent work, Zulfiqar Kalhoro
shows that some tribal leaders who died on the battlefield went through a
9
process of “sanctification.” The sacrifice of their life for the tribe works as a
prerequisite for the implementation of a process of sanctification. The tribal
leader was thus venerated, and his fellow tribesmen used to come to perform rituals at different moments of the year, the most salient being the
commemoration of his death. Other family rituals are also performed such
as the first shaving of the new born baby (mundane). What I want to point
out here is that saintly veneration is not restricted in the Sindhi landscape
either to Sufi or to Shi‘i figures. Beautiful mausoleums were built in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and they were ornamented with elegant
coloured walled frescoes. Moreover, the foundation of what was to be a holy
place was the translation of the fact that the tribe has got a new symbolic
ancestor. Although no divinity is claimed, the ancestor has got a superior
statute following the process of sanctification.

9

the Vedic pantheon under the shape of the god of water and ocean. According to
Dumézil’s reading of the Vedas, Varunais was “justicier, rigoureux, redoubtable.”
See Georges Dumézil, Les dieux souverains des Indo-Européens, Paris, Gallimard, 1977,
p. 61.
Our knowledge about feuds between tribes, be they Sindhis or Baluchis, is still
patchy. Most of the narratives in question are oral. The sardārs to whom Kalhoro is
referring lived in the north of Sindh during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The origin of the feuds is not always known but it should be linked to competition for the control of this very fertile area. See Zulfiqar A. Kalhoro, “The Necropolis
of Jeevan Shah in Larkana, Sindh,” Journal of the Asian Civilizations, 22-1, 2009, pp.
94-112.

330

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

Alternative Answer of Sindhi Culture to Islamic Framework:
the Imam as Das Avatār
Some communities of Sindh provided other answers regarding the issue of
ancestors worship in the new Muslim framework. Let us take the case of the
Khojas. The name ‘Khojas’ was given to a cluster of castes dominated by
merchants mainly settled in the North-West part of the British Empire of India. While they acknowledged a number of spiritual guides, among them the
Hasan ‘Alī Shāh (d. 1882), the first Agha Khan, they used to practice an “in 10
digenized” form of Islam. Nonetheless, as they did not know the Qur’ān or
the pillars of Islam, they could hardly be coined as Muslims before the advent of the Agha Khan.
The Khojas thus disrupted the scene of India in the mid-nineteenth century as followers of Hasan ‘Alī Shāh, the 47 th living imam of the Ismaili
Shi‘ites. This allegiance was officially institutionalized through court cases,
such as the Aga Khan Case of 1866. The Khojas interviewed by Sadik Ali at
the beginning of the twentieth century stated that the Lohanas, who were
their Hindu ancestors, claimed to be the descendants of the 7 th avatār of
11
Vishnu, Rām. As we saw previously, claiming gods as ancestors was a
common feature of Sindhi pre-Islamic culture. For the Khojas, worshipping
the gods as ancestors was thus a part of their cultural framework. Such a
process moreover allowed them to claim a high statute in the prevalent
caste system.
The beliefs of the Khojas were also expressed in the main communal
rituals where a salient prayer (ginān) claiming this genealogy was offered.
Known as Das Avatār, it was sung for example during the ritual of samar
chantā (purifying for the hereafter), where the dying Khoja was sprinkled
with blessed water. Most interestingly, in the newly born Pakistan, the Ismaili Khojas still used to sing gināns. The prayer, despite being known in
different shapes and lengths, is a recitation of the tenth avatars (manifestation) of the Hindu god Vishnu. It was removed from the official Ismaili corpus of Pakistan only recently. The refrain is significant:
10 See Michel Boivin, 2010, L’Agha Khan et les Khojas: islam chiite et dynamiques sociales dans le Sindh contemporain (XIXe-XXe s.), Unpublished Habilitation thesis, University of Paris Ouest-Nanterre.
11 Sadik Ali, A Short Sketch Historical and Traditional of the Musulman Races found in
Sindh, Baluchistan and Afghanistan, their genealogical sub-divisions and septs together
with ethnological and ethnographical account, Karachi, Indus Publications [1901],
1996, p. 66.

331

MICHEL BOIVIN

Save the Lord Islam Shah, the Mahdi, tenth manifestation and ‘Alī
O Invisible Lord, You are generous to Your creatures.
Great Lord, You veil the sins of those who take refuge with You.
Serve the Lord Islam Shah, the Mahdi, tenth manifestation and
12
‘Alī
A very interesting negotiation between saintly Muslim figures and Sindhi
culture was obviously provided by the local Ismailis. Through this ginān, the
Khojas state they worship the descendant of the god Vishnu. Although they
do not claim anymore than their own ancestors came from a god, probably
since the beginning of the twentieth century, they are worshipping a saint,
here a Shi‘i imam, as a descendant of a god. There is therefore no rupture
between pre-Islamic and Islamic frameworks. Thus said, the rich collection
of manuscripts kept in the Institute of Ismaili Studies allows us to see anoth13
er shifting which occurred in the second half of the nineteenth century.
For reinforcing his religious authority as imam, the first Aga Khan, Hasan ‘Alī Shāh, implemented a new tradition from the middle of the nineteenth century onwards. The ancestors’ worship was removed in favour of
the veneration of a mythic family, the Muslim Holy Family known here as
the Panjtan Pāk. The Panjtan Pāk, the “Five Pure,” are also known as the
Ahl-e bayt (People of the House): the Prophet Muhammad, Fātima, ‘Alī, Hasan and Husayn. The genealogical trees of the ancestors (pūthiū) disappeared
from the manuscripts during the nineteenth century; the process probably
increased after Hasan ‘Alī Shāh’s coming to Sindh, and they were replaced
by the genealogy of the Shi‘i imams. In the middle of the same century, one
notes a steady increase in a new type of genealogical tree, namely the
shajra, a genealogical tree depicting the ancestors of the imam. In this case,
the imam is not represented as coming from a god, but as a mere scion of
the Holy Family. The period during which this shift occurred fits obviously
with the coming of the Hasan ‘Alī Shāh to Sindh, from 1843 onwards.
The sanctification of ancestors therefore appears in different shapes in
Sindhi society. But the process can be situated broadly within two main cat12 Transl. from Christopher Shackle and Zawahir Moir, Ismaili Hymns from South Asia.
An Introduction to the ginans, London, SOAS, 1992, p. 158. Shackle and Moir quoted a
ginān when Islam Shah was the imam. But the ginān was always sung with the
name of the living imam.
13 See for example Zawahir Noorally [Moir], Catalogue of Khojkî manuscripts in the
collection of the Ismailia Association for Pakistan, Karachi, 1971 (Unpublished
typescript).

332

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

egories, since one can distinguish the tribal process of sanctification, and the
Hindu originated construction of divinisation. Let us now examine how the
cult of the Ahl-e bayt disrupted this state of affairs, and explore the processes by which it came to dominate the field.

The Spread of the Veneration of the Panjtan Pāk
The Khojas initiated a shift from the cult of ancestors belonging to the “real”
family, to the worship of divinised ancestors, the imams. Although the coming of Hasan ‘Alī Shāh lent a significant impulse to this process, the veneration the Khojas have for the imam is nonetheless very similar to the veneration many Muslims have for the Sufi master, the pīr. It is therefore necessary now to turn to other Muslim communities of Sindh, especially the Sufi
communities. The rituals by which the allegiance is materialized are drawn
from the same matrix, namely Sindhi culture. A particular feature was the
core of the shifting: the cult of the Holy Family. The rituals performing in
this context appear to have worked as the main instrument of the shifting
from the real family framework to the symbolic one was easy to complete.
Although data is scarce, we can begin to discern the expansion of worship of the Muslim Holy Family in Sindh from the late eighteenth century
14
onwards. The expansion is attested in literature and ritual. Among non-Ismaili Muslims of Sindh, the reasons for the spread of the veneration of the
Holy Family, known as Panjtan Pāk, and symbolized by the five fingered
hand (panja), are difficult to decipher. Several hypotheses can nonetheless
be proposed. Chronologically, the spread of the veneration can be dated to
the eighteenth century. The British Museum holds two eighteenth century
manuscripts of Sindhi verses by Muhammad Hāshim on the martyrdom of
15
Hasan and Husayn. But the decisive explanation should be that the great
Sufi poet of Sindh, Shāh ‘Abd al-Latīf (d. 1757), devoted an entire chapter
(sur) of his Shāh jo Risālo to the martyrdom of imam Husayn. In Sur
Husaynī, Latīf expresses a vibrant pathos where the family pattern is almost
as important as the figure of the imam. Singing Sur Husaynī is like singing a
versified family tragedy in which every character can be identified. The
14 Since there are a number of studies devoted of South Asian Shi‘ism, one can hardly
find an historical approach to the issue. For a study of Shi‘i rituals see Syed Akbar
Hyder, Reliving Karbala. Martyrdom in South Asian Memory, New York, Oxford University Press, 2006.
15 James Blumhardt, Catalogue of the Marathi, Gujarati, Bengali, Assamese, Oriya,
Pushtu, and Sindhi Manuscripts in the Library of the British Museum, London, 1905,
pp. 37-38.

333

MICHEL BOIVIN

identification to the martyrdom is obvious through the performance of flagellation rituals (matam) with small knives fixed on chains.
The reasons why Shāh Latīf devoted a chapter to the Karbala tragedy
are still shrouded in mystery. Of course the veneration of Husayn’s martyrdom is well known among the Shi‘is, and Shāh Latīf was maybe himself a
Shi‘i. In South Asia, however, the development of literature and rituals are
mostly related to state patronage, like in the case of Oudh kingdom in the
nineteenth century onwards. But in the case of Sindh, the Shi‘ite dynasty of
the Talpūrs did not accede to power until 1783, when Shāh Latīf had already
been dead for almost thirty years. A possible Persian influence is still to be
documented.

A panja as exhibited in the Sabzwaris’ imambara
Devotional literature devoted to the Karbala tragedy reached its apex
with the work of Sayyid Sābit ‘Alī Shāh (1740–1810). He popularised the
genre of marthiyas which thus became a part of Sindhi culture, echoing a
similar evolution in Qajar Persia. Last but not least, the famous work by
Husayn Wā‘iz Kāshifī (d. 1504) named Rawzat al-Shuhadā (Garden of the
Martyrs) was edited and translated from Persian into Sindhi in the second
16
part of the nineteenth century.
16 On the role played by Rawzat al-Shuhadā in the spread of Muharram ceremonies,
see S. A. Hyder, Reliving Karbala, pp. 21-22.

334

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

In Sindh, it is noteworthy that even Hindus were authors of such
marthiyas. Nowadays, the Muharram commemorations are still a prominent
17
religious event in Sindh. It is true that the organizational agenda of these
functions is arranged on the pattern of mourning rituals performed inside a
family. But performing Muharram rituals allow the devotees to partake in a
superhuman family, that is the family of the Prophet which is of course
above the “real” family.

An unusual portrait of the first Shi‘i imam ‘Alī
(Unknown date and origin, kāfī [khānqāh] of Dodā Mard Haqānī, Sehwan Sharif)
17 The first ten days of Muharram are devoted to processions commemorating different
episodes of the Karbala tragedy. A number of ritual artifacts are exhibited in association with each episode, for example a nuptial bed (sej) symbolizing the wedding of
Qāsim. The apex of the celebration occurs on the 10 th, when the death of Husayn is
celebrated.

335

MICHEL BOIVIN

The practice of honouring one’s ancestors was no longer a primary ritual in the Muslim context. Although the dead are still commemorated, one
finds nothing like the sort of ancestor worship such as is still performed by
the Hindus. The spread of the veneration of the Panjtan Pāk is concomitant
with the emergence of silsila of saints that related them physically to the
Panjtan Pāk. For example, La‘l Shahbāz Qalandar is said to be the direct descendant of the sixth imam Ja‘far Sādiq through his son Ismā‘īl. Although
Ja‘far Sādiq appears in many Sufi silsilas, the dominant Sufi masters of Sehwan Sharif described him as a “manifestation” (mazhar) of Husayn. It
means that when the devotees worship the saint, they worship him as a
saint in the Sufi tradition and at the same time as a descendant of the Shi‘i
imams, if not himself an imam.
While the first Shi‘i spot is related to Ja‘far Sādiq, the second is found in
all Sufi sites: it is the ‘alam of Ghazī ‘Abbās. ‘Abbās was the half-brother of
Husayn and the standard bearer (‘alamdār) at the battle of Karbala. He was
thus the symbol of the Holy Family. Sakīna, Husayn’s daughter, was fond of
him and he was killed while bringing water to the thirsty children of the
family. As an artefact, the ‘alam is omnipresent in the Sufi environment. It
either faces the main entrance of a dargāh, or is located in the courtyard. Diane D’Souza states that the ‘alam is the embodiment of the real presence of
18
the Holy Family. The first ceremony of Muharram always begins in the
last days of Dhū al-hijja, from the 28 th onwards, with the changing of the
‘alam in the dargāh and the khānqāhs. Every time the ‘alam is changed, a
special matam known as gol matam is arranged with murīds and faqīrs, and
the sajjāda nashīn himself participates.
Furthermore, the majority of Sufi shrines in Sindh are under the custody
of Husaynī sayyids, who for the most part are generally Shi‘i. They are
known as sajjāda nashīns or gādī nashīns, and they have control of the Sufi
shrines. The ceremonies of Muharram are thus arranged with great pomp
and the Shi‘i sayyids always attached the local Sufi saint to the Panjtan Pāk.
Such a connection can also be found through the relics which are always
19
connecting the Sufi saint to a Shi‘i imam, and the numerous plots devoted
18 See Diane D’Souza, “In the presence of the martyrs : the ‘Alam in Popular Shī‘ī
piety,” The Muslim World, Vol. LXXXVII, n°1, 1998, pp. 76-79, “The Fine Line
between Veneration and Deification.”
19 For example, the main relic of La‘l Shahbāz Qalandar, exhibited near his tomb, is
known as the gulūband (necklace). According to local tradition, Yazīd compelled
Zayn al-‘Ābidīn to bear this necklace with a huge stone on his way from Karbala to
Damascus. See Michel Boivin, Artefacts of Devotion. A Sufi Repertoire of the Qalan-

336

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

to the Panjtan Pāk in Sufi sites. Two categories of Shi‘i related sacred spots
are devoted to the Panjtan Pāk. First are the Mowla jo qaddam. Near a Sufi
shrine, there is most of the time a place where it is said that ‘Alī left foot prints, or at least his horse Duldul. A huge sanctuary devoted to Mowla jo
qaddam was built in Hyderabad.

Feeding the Saints, Feeding the Ancestors
Additional evidence about the shift from people’s worship of their “real”
family to their veneration of a metaphorical, Holy one can be found in certain feeding rituals. Among the Hindus of Sindh, ceremonies are performed
after the departure of a caste member, and serve as an opportunity also for
the worship of all ancestors. The main ritual is that of feeding the ancestors.
It is usually performed by a Sarsudh Brahman after many other rituals. On
the morning of the 12 th day following the death, and just after worshiping
the deities and the planets, the Brahman offers the sacred cake (pinda) to the
20
ancestors. Richard Burton writes: “The Brahman recites prayers (…) and
scatters barley and Sesame, moistens some raw rice and disposes it in nine
21
little leaps upon the ground. There are the Pinda.” It is the last ritual which
marks the end of death related ceremonies. Other occasions for the worship
22
of ancestors are new moon, full moon and dark moon.
Once again, my contention is to provide evidence to show how the pinda rituals were reused among “new Muslims.” In view of the rich data available, let us start with the Khojas, before turning to other rituals performed
in all the Muslim shrines. The Khojas performed a number of specific rituals
that are not shared with other Muslim communities of the area. Obviously,
they are remains of ancient negotiations between Ismaili pīrs and Hindu
groups that finally acknowledged the spiritual authority of the Ismaili imam.
One of these rituals is known as the ritual of nāndī, recently reinterpreted as
mehmānī. The term mehmānī refers to the guest (mehmān), and alludes to a
highly sacred tradition in Sindh and other nearby regions according to
dariyya in Sehwan Sharif, Sindh (Pakistan), Karachi, Oxford University Press, 2011,
pp. 91-96.
20 Upendra T. Thakur, Sindhi Culture, Bombay, University of Bombay, 1959, p. 191.
21 Richard Burton, The Races that inhabited the valley of Indus, Karachi, Indus Publications [1851], 1981, p. 355.
22 U. T. Thakur., Sindhi Culture, p. 128. Interestingly the pinda ritual was still at work
among the Muslims from Nepal at the beginning of the twentieth century; see Marc
Gaborieau, Ni brahmanes, ni ancêtres, Colporteurs musulmans du Népal, Nanterre,
Société d’ethnologie, 1993.

337

MICHEL BOIVIN

which the guest should be honoured with offerings. In the context of the Ismaili Khojas, the main offering is a meal which is theoretically to be forwarded to the imam himself. Thus, the devotees should feed the imam.
Turning back to the nāndī ritual, it is interesting to see how the present
official Ismaili institutions of Pakistan gave a new meaning to this ancient
ancestors’ feeding ritual. In a 2008 work on the practices and ceremonies of
the Ismailis, Kamaluddin Muhammad stresses upon that nāndī is a token of
love: “The [Ismaili] murīds do not offer mehmānīs to the imam only when
he physically visits the jamā‘at but they bring eatables and other things to
jamā‘atkhānas every day as a token of their love and affection to the
23
imam.”
In the case of the Ismaili Khojas, the shift from the worship of ancestors
to the veneration of the imam is further attested in people’s forms of address. Many gināns and other scriptural Ismaili texts introduce the imam as
Mā Bāp. It means that the imam is both “father” and “mother” of his dis24
ciples. The term Mā Bāp, from mā‘ī bāp means “Mother-Father.” This attribute is probably of Hindu origin, since the concept of the Vedic Brahman
is traditionally seen as both father and mother. The feminine name given to
a man is probably due to the fact that the Brahman is said to deliver the man
through the ritual of initiation. Until that, the man is unborn and it is with
the sacrifice that he is born. It is nevertheless interesting to observe that the
present imam, Shāh Karīm al-Husaynī (b. 1937), imam since 1957, still uses
this formula when he speaks in English to his followers.
We previously highlighted the entanglement between Shi‘i figures of
the Holy Family and the cult of saints in Sindh. A most common ritual performed in all shrines also works as a substitute of feeding the ancestors. The
most common name for this ritual offering is niyāz, and once again it is reputed to bring blessings of prosperity and happiness to the person who has
offered it. The niyāz is distributed to all who are performing ziyārat at the
time when food is prepared. The best meal is biryani, rice cooked with meat
and spices, which is generally cooked on happy occasions such as weddings.
Portions of biryani are nevertheless left at the feet of the tomb because pop-

23 Kamaluddin Ali Muhammad, Practices and Ceremonies. Essays on rites and rituals,
English transl. Aziz Ali Hasan Ali, Karachi, Z.M. Printers, 2008, p. 132. The jamā‘at
is the name given to the Ismaili community, while the jamā‘atkhāna is the name of
the worship place.
24 Ch. Shackle and Z. Moir, Ismaili Hymns from South Asia, p. 100.

338

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

ular beliefs hold that the saint himself should be fed, with blessing accruing
to the person who has provided the food.

Conclusion
Muslim societies of Sindh, and of South Asia more generally, attest to the
flexibility of Islam as a religion, and also of the resilience of Indian social
rituals. Although the local traditions related to the ancestors’ worship were
intermingled with the claim of a divine origin, the ancestors were worshipped in Sindhi context through different kinds of rituals. Ancestors’ worship
was nevertheless the core of the religious rituals performed in local Hindu
cults.
It is not easy to understand the spread of Panjtan Pāk’s veneration in
Sindh, although it is attested that it appears in the eighteenth century. This
said, the Sur Husaynī that Shāh ‘Abd al-Latīf includes in his Shāh jo Risālo
shows that the emotion related to the tragedy faced by the Prophet’s family
was meaningful for the Sindhis, and for Muslims in South Asia more widely.
Later on, the marthiyas became a most popular literary genre of Sindhi literature, and the genealogical trees of the family came gradually to be replaced
by a sacred genealogy. Two cases can thus be observed. In the first case, it is
replaced by those of the Shi‘i imams. And in the second case, the Sufi saint
is absorbed in an Imami genealogy.
One final piece of evidence regarding the transference of the ancestors’
worship to the veneration of a sacred family, the Panjtan Pāk, is given by
the feeding rituals. In pre-Islamic Sindhi culture, a core ritual was the feeding of the ancestors. Special cooking was prepared and at different occasions
related to the moon, during which the ancestors were fed. In Sufi shrines,
the saint is interestingly fed for the annual fair with biryani. Moreover,
among the Ismaili Shi‘is, the imam is symbolically fed every day.
This brief study of the saint as ancestor gives but a very modest insight
into the complex field of family and sainthood in Sindh, as a part of the Indian Subcontinent. It reinforces our view that rituals serve mainly as a means
for negotiating. Briefly, rituals worked like mediation in a confrontation
process. It is especially clear in the encountering between the Persian Aga
Khan and the Indian Khojas. In this case, rituals were used as efficient nego tiating tools between an Islamic religious authority and a caste-like social
body. Thanks to them, the Khojas were able to retain Hinduistic prayers like
the Das Avatar until recently, right into the first decade of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan.
339

MICHEL BOIVIN

Bibliography
Primary sources
Bhurirro, Khayr Muhammad, Sehwan sadiyan kan, Sehwan Sharif, Murad
Publications, 2009.
Burton, Richard F., The Races that inhabited the valley of Indus, Karachi, Indus
Publications [1851], 1981.
Sadik Ali, Shaikh Ansari Sher Ali, A Short Sketch Historical and Traditional of
the Musulman Races found in Sindh, Baluchistan and Afghanistan, their
genealogical sub-divisions and septs together with ethnological and
ethnographical account, Karachi, Indus Publications [1901], 1996.
Shackle, Christopher and Moir Zawahir, Ismaili Hymns from South Asia. An
Introduction to the ginans, London, SOAS, 1992.
Thakur Bansī Lāl Sā’īn and Thakur Derhyā Hidanumāl Sāhab (Bhudā’ī
Sewhānī), Dharam rakshīk Shrī Varun Bhagwān jal jotī āvtār Shrī Āmar
Udero Lāl sāhab jo itihās, Ulhāsnagar, 1980.
Todd, James, Annals and Antiquities of Rajasthan, New Delhi, Oriental Books
Reprint Corporation, 2 volumes [1829-1832], 1983.

Studies
Bianquis, Thierry, La famille arabe médiévale, Paris, Armand Colin, 1986.
Blumhardt, James, Catalogue of the Marathi, Gujarati, Bengali, Assamese, Oriya,
Pushtu, and Sindhi Manuscripts in the Library of the British Museum,
London, 1905.
Boivin, Michel, L’Agha Khan et les Khojas: islam chiite et dynamiques sociales
dans le Sindh contemporain (XIXe-XXe s.), unpublished habilitation thesis,
University of Paris Ouest-Nanterre, 2010.
Id., Artefacts of Devotion. A Sufi Repertoire of the Qalandariyya in Sehwan Sharif,
Sindh (Pakistan), Karachi, Oxford University Press, 2011.
Chambert-Loir, Henri and Anthony Reid, The Potent Dead: Ancestors, Saints and
Heroes in Contemporary Indonesia, Crows Nest, Allen & Unwin-Honolulu,
University of Hawai’i Press, 2002.
D’Souza, Diane, “In the presence of the martyrs : the ‘Alam in Popular Shī‘ī
piety,” The Muslim World, Vol. LXXXVII, n°1, 1998, pp. 67-80.
Dumézil, Georges, Les dieux souverains des Indo-Européens, Paris, Gallimard, 1977.
Gaborieau, Marc, Ni brahmanes, ni ancêtres, Colporteurs musulmans du Népal,
Nanterre, Société d’ethnologie, 1993.
Hyder, Syed Akbar, Reliving Karbala. Martyrdom in South Asian Memory, New
York, Oxford University Press, 2006.
Kalhoro, Zulfiqar Ali, “The Necropolis of Jeevan Shah in Larkana, Sindh,”
Journal of the Asian Civilizations, 22-1, 2009, pp. 94-112.

340

THE SAINT AS ANCESTOR

[Moir], Zawahir Noorally, Catalogue of Khojkî manuscripts in the collection of
the Ismailia Association for Pakistan, Karachi, 1971 (Unpubl. typescript).
Muhammad, Kamaluddin Ali, Practices and Ceremonies. Essays on rites and
rituals, transl. Aziz Ali Hasan Ali, Karachi, Z.M. Printers, 2008.
Stern, Henri, “Le pouvoir dans l’Inde traditionnelle : territoire, caste et parenté.
Approche théorique et régionale (Rajasthan),” L’Homme, 13/1-2, 1973,
pp. 50-70.
Thakur, Upendra T., Sindhi Culture, Bombay, University of Bombay, 1959.

341

Portrait d’un saint d’Ifrīqīya dans sa famille
ou l’épouse comme source pour l’hagiographe
d’après al-Asrār al-jaliyya fī l-manāqib al-dahmāniyya
1
d’al-Dabbāgh (m. 699/1300)

Nelly Amri

Introduction
Interrogeant un certain nombre de sources écrites au Maroc et en Andalus
entre le VIe/XIIe et le VIIIe/XIVe siècle, M. Marín évoquait récemment la présence abondante des femmes dans les textes hagiographiques : ils accordent
« une place de choix aux femmes qui vivent dans l’entourage immédiat du
2
saint » , selon l’historienne qui fait remarquer que le cercle familial du saint
est souvent une « source privilégiée d’information sur son activité charismatique » et que les femmes – épouses, filles, servantes – sont citées comme
« garantes de la vérité des faits rapportés ». L’Ifrīqīya, offre, pour sa part, un
tableau assez différent, notamment en ce qui concerne les femmes, ce qui
plaiderait pour une approche plus nuancée des manāqib maghrébines, appréhendées souvent comme un ensemble monolithique. Le plus souvent, les
auteurs des hagiographies de l’Ifrīqīya médiévale ne nous livrent qu’incidemment, en tout cas rarement en nombre, des informations conséquentes
sur l’intimité du saint, sa vie de famille ; c’est davantage le personnage « public » qui se trouve éclairé ; et quand bien même la famille du saint est présente, toujours parcimonieusement, elle apparaît comme un décor attendu,
deviné et presque connu d’avance pour l’action, toute en éclat, du saint ; sa
fonction étant d’avérer et de servir humblement la vérité du récit hagiographique, son efficacité. Les informations sur le saint sont généralement col lectées auprès de ses compagnons, disciples et serviteurs.
Pour dominante que soit cette tendance, elle a eu, cependant, ses exceptions, ses contre-modèles. Le recueil que nous avons choisi comme source
3
en est un bel exemple. Al-Asrār al-jaliyya fī l-manāqib al-Dahmāniyya , ré1
2

3

Je remercie vivement Denis Gril pour ses remarques et suggestions éclairantes.
Manuela Marín, « Images des femmes dans les sources hagiographiques
maghrébines : les mères et les épouses du saint », in Nelly Amri et Denis Gril, éd.,
Saint et sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, MMSH, 2007, p. 235.
Al-Asrār al-jaliyya fī l-manāqib al-dahmāniyya li Ibn al-Dabbāgh al-Qayrawānī, éd.
Abdelkarim Chibli, Mémoire pour l’obtention du Diplôme de Recherches Approfon-

343

NELLY AMRI
4

digé vers 647/1249-50 par ‘Abd al-Rahmān al-Dabbāgh à la gloire du cheikh
5
Abū Yūsuf al-Dahmānī (m. 621/1224) se distingue des autres recueils de
manāqib ifrīqiyens par la place importante accordée à la famille du saint (ses
épouses, ses enfants, sa domesticité et plus généralement les gens de sa maisonnée), ainsi que par l’abondance des récits rapportés par l’entourage familial du saint et notamment par l’une de ses épouses ; à titre comparatif, l’hagiographie d’Abū Sa‘īd al-Bājī, rédigée pratiquement à la même période
6
(633/1235–640/1242) , ne cite qu’une fois, sans la nommer, l’épouse du
7
cheikh, pourtant reconnue comme sainte , et une fois sa fille Sayyidat al8
kull, elle aussi désignée comme sāliha, lui attribuant un récit sur le cheikh ;
9
est-ce l’époux de celle-ci qui est cité très laconiquement au nombre des
hommes faits prisonniers par Abū l-‘Alā’, le gouverneur almohade de l’Ifrī10
qīya ? C’est dire si l’hagiographie est pauvre en éléments se rapportant à la
famille du cheikh et à sa maisonnée ; quant aux rapporteurs d’al-Hawwārī,
l’hagiographe d’al-Bājī, ce sont quasi exclusivement les disciples et compagnons du cheikh, y compris le récit rapporté par sa fille, à qui est associé
l’un des proches compagnons du saint. On pourrait multiplier les exemples.
Que penser de cette spécificité du recueil d’al-Dabbāgh ? Est-elle due à
dies (DEA, tapuscrit), Tunis, Université de Tunis, Faculté des Sciences Humaines et
Sociales, 1997. Le manuscrit de base ayant servi à l’édition étant le MS. 17944, Bibliothèque nationale, Tunis, ff. 149. C’est à ce manuscrit que renvoient les folios que
nous indiquerons désormais, suivis, entre crochets, de la page de l’édition. Par contre lorsque nous citerons l’étude faite par l’éditeur, nous la citerons Asrār, Ed., p. etc.
4 Asrār, fol. 142a [309].
5 Saint d’origine bédouine, repenti et vecteur, à son tour, du repentir et de la conversion de nombreux Bédouins dans la région de Kairouan, compagnon et ami de saints
bien connus de l’Ifrīqīya médiévale : ‘Abd al-‘Azīz al-Mahdawī, mort la même année,
et Abū ‘Alī al-Naftī (m. 610/1212-3) ; une longue amitié et une correspondance l’unissait à ces deux cheikhs, selon al-Dabbāgh. L’hagiographie ifrīqiyenne s’accorde à
considérer al-Dahmānī parmi les six maîtres ifrīqiyens initiés par Abū Madyan
Shu‘ayb (m. 594/1197). Al-Dabbāgh lui a consacré, outre cette hagiographie, rédigée
en 647/1249-50, une notice dans son dictionnaire biographique, reprise par Ibn Nājī,
Ma‘ālim al-īmān fī ma‘rifat ahl al-Qayrawān, vol. III, éd. M. Mādūr, Tunis, alMaktaba al-‘atīqa, s.d., pp. 213-229.
6 Abū l-Hasan ‘Alī al-Hawwārī, Manāqib Abī Sa‘īd al-Bājī, éd. Ahmad al-Bukhārī alShitwī, Tunis, 2004, voir respectivement p. 60 pour la première date et p. 76, pour la
seconde.
7 Manāqib, pp. 73-74.
8 Manāqib, p. 70.
9 Manāqib, p. 96.
10 Abū l-‘Alā’ b. Abī Ya‘qūb b. ‘Abd al-Mu’min, fut gouverneur de l’Ifrīqīya en 618/
1221 après la mort de Muhammad ‘Abd al-Wāhid ; il mourut en 620/1223, cf. Ibn
Qunfudh, al-Fārisiyya fī mabādi’ al-dawla al-hafsiyya, éd. M. Ch. Enneifer et A.
Turki, Tunis, MTE, 1968, p. 106.

344

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

la situation familiale (quatre épouses et quatorze enfants) d’al-Dahmānī ?
Mais dans le cas du saint kairouanais al-Qadīdī (m. 699/1299) qui, lui aussi,
avait pris quatre épouses, celles-ci ne sont pas pour autant présentes dans
11
son hagiographie . On pourrait être tenté d’y voir, en filigrane, le modèle de
la Sīra prophétique à une époque où le Prophète est de plus en plus au
centre des expériences de sainteté – on attribue à al-Mahdawī (m. 621/1224)
12
une Salāt al-mubāraka sur le Prophète – et où commencent à apparaître en
Ifrīqīya, certes, plus tardivement que dans le reste du Maghreb, de nouvelles
13
formes de dévotion à sa personne .
Évoquer les épouses du saint, dont le mimétisme avec la personne du
Prophète est une donnée de base de l’hagiographie islamique, revient à placer celles-ci dans la perspective de la place, du statut et du rôle que la Sīra
accorde aux épouses du Prophète, et de la figure qui se dégage, au fil de ses
pages, de celles qu’on appellera désormais « les Mères des Croyants » (um14
mahāt al-mu’minīn) . Celles-ci ont été perçues jusque-là comme modèles
11 Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, IV, pp. 49-88 ; la notice d’Ibn Nājī a pour source un recueil de
manāqib dû à Abū ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad b. ‘Uthmān al-Hadramī, petit-neveu et
imam du cheikh.
12 Editée par Pablo Beneito et Stephen Hirtenstein, The Prayer of Blessing by ‘Abd al‘Azīz al-Mahdawī dans Journal of the Muhyiddin Ibn ‘Arabī Society, vol. XXXIV, 2003.
13 La célébration du mawlid au Maroc fut introduite dès 647/1249 par le cheikh de
Ceuta, Abū l-‘Abbās Ahmad al-‘Azafī et sera officialisée en 691/1292 par le Marīnide
Abū Ya‘qūb (voir Mohammed Kably, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc à la fin du
« Moyen Âge » (XIVe-XVe siècle), Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 1986, p. 286 et s. ;
pour l’Ifrīqīya il faudra attendre le IXe/XVe siècle avec le pieux sultan Abū Fāris ‘Abd
al-‘Azīz pour voir cette fête triompher finalement des réticences des milieux mālikites (cf. Robert Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale sous les Hafsides des origines à la
fin du XVe siècle, Paris, Adrien Maisonneuve, 1947, II, pp. 304-305). Sur le mawlid,
voir l’ouvrage désormais de référence de Nico J.G. Kaptein, Muhammad’s Birthday
festival. Early history in the Central Muslim land and development in the Muslim West
until the 10th/16th Century, Leyde, Brill, 1993.
14 Signalons l’intérêt porté, dans la production historiographique anglo-saxonne, aux
« Mères des Croyants » en tant que figures archétypales ; en effet, je dois à l’amitié
de Manuela Marín, grâce à son article « Exemplary Women in Early Islam », in Kari
E. Borresen, éd, Christian and Islamic Gender Models in Formative Traditions, Rome,
Herder, 2004, de connaître un certain nombre de titres que malheureusement je n’ai
pu consulter à Tunis : Nabia Abbot, Aishah – the Beloved of Mohammed, Chicago,
Saqi Books, 1998 (1e éd. 1942) ; Ghassan Ascha, « The ‘Mothers of the Believers’ :
stereotypes of the Prophet Muhammad’s wives » in Ria Kloppenborg and Wouter J.
Hanegraaff, éd., Female Stereotypes in Religious Traditions, Leyde, Brill, 1995, pp. 89107 ; Barbara F. Stowasser, Women in the Qur’an, Traditions and Interpretation, New
York-Oxford, 1994 ; Denise A. Spellberg, Politics, Gender and the Islamic Past : the
Legacy of ‘Ā’isha bint Abī Bakr, New York, Columbia University Press, 1994 ; Biancamaria Scarcia Amoretti and Laura Bottini, éd., The Role of the Sādāt/ashrāf in Muslim
history and civilization, Oriente Moderno, XVIII, 1999.

345

NELLY AMRI
15

pour les femmes engagées dans les voies de la perfection ; aussi ont-elles
souvent servi de « généalogie de l’énonciation » à de nombreux dictionnaires biographiques comportant des notices de sālihāt notamment dans la
16
tradition orientale ; elles ont plus rarement été invoquées comme modèles
de perfection pour les femmes partageant la vie d’un homme de Dieu ; et les
historiens de la sainteté n’ont pas trop cherché, jusque-là, à tester la présence de ces figures archétypales dans les manāqib de saints mariés. Parmi
les rôles dévolus aux ummāhāt al-mu’minīn, figure en bonne place celui
d’informatrices sur les faits et gestes, sur les dits du Prophète, et celui de
17
transmetteuses de traditions (rāwiya) . Ce rôle occupera une place importante, au moment de la fixation écrite de la Vie du Prophète et de la consti18
tution des corpus de hadith . Dans quelle mesure les épouses du cheikh alDahmānī ont-elles joué ce rôle d’informatrices sur le saint ? D’autre part, de
quelle nature sont ces récits transmis par les épouses du cheikh, quelle est
leur importance dans la construction de sa mémoire bio-hagiographique, affectent-ils des lieux importants de cette mémoire, en comparaison par
exemple avec ceux transmis par les disciples ou les compagnons du cheikh ?
Quelle est l’image que donne al-Dabbāgh du cheikh Abū Yūsuf al-Dahmānī
dans sa vie intime, avec sa famille et sa compagne et servante Umm Yahyā
Maryam ? Le saint, cet autre Muhammad, incarne-t-il dans ces récits édifiants, les mêmes vertus, les mêmes conduites considérées comme archétypales, du Prophète vis-à-vis des Ahl al-bayt, des gens de sa Maison, vertus et
conduites codifiées depuis la première Sīra d’Ibn Ishāq (m. 150/767-8), revue
et adaptée par Ibn Hishām (m. 218/833) et créditées d’une valeur exem19
plaire ?
15 Cf. les notices que leur consacre notamment Abū Nu‘aym al-Isfahānī dans sa Hilyat
al-awliyā’ wa tabaqāt al-asfiyā’, Le Caire, Matba‘at al-sa‘āda, 1974, pp. 43-55.
16 Cf. Nelly et Laroussi Amri, Les femmes soufies ou la passion de Dieu, St-Jean-DeBraye, Dangles, 1992, p. 58.
17 Cf. Fatima Mernissi, Le Harem politique. Le Prophète et les femmes, Paris, Albin
Michel, 1987, p. 49.
18 Le Musnad d’Ahmad Ibn Hanbal attribue 1340 hadiths à la riwāya de ‘Ā’isha, et 936
transmises par les autres femmes du Prophète, cf. Ali Merad, La Tradition musulmane, Paris, Puf, 2001, p. 78. Hichem Djaït remet en question les traditions relatives
à la vie du Prophète venant de son épouse ‘Ā’isha, « Écrire la vie de Muhammad.
L’historien face à la Tradition », in Biographies et récits de vie, Alfa Maghreb et
sciences sociales, Tunis, IRMC, 2005, p. 26.
19 Parmi les textes anciens figure également Kitāb al-Maghāzī dû à Wāqidī (m. 207/
823) ; son disciple le plus célèbre, plus connu sous le surnom de Kātib al-Wāqidī,
n’est autre que Muhammad Ibn Sa‘d, l’auteur des Tabaqāt, m. en 230/845 ; cf. S. Ismā‘īl Kāshif, Masādir al-tārīkh al-islāmī, Beyrouth, 1983, pp. 38-41 ; voir également
« Sīra », Enc. Islam 2, IX, pp. 686-689.

346

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

Telles sont, rapidement esquissées, quelques interrogations auxquelles ce
travail voudrait tenter de répondre en évoquant dans un premier temps les
femmes du saint comme transmetteuses ; puis, dans un deuxième temps, la
conduite attribuée au cheikh avec sa familia, et les contours qui s’en dégagent d’un portrait intimiste du saint.

Une personnalité intellectuelle forte
et une œuvre originale
Abū Zayd ‘Abd al-Rahmān b. Muhammad b. ‘Alī al-Ansārī « surnommé al20
Dabbāgh » (‘urifa al-Dabbāgh) – en effet, c’est ainsi qu’il est cité sous la
21
plume d’Ibn Nājī dans son préambule aux Ma‘ālim – est un savant kairouanais, polygraphe né en 605/1209, dans la cité de ‘Uqba, d’un père mort
(618/1221) en odeur de sainteté et dans une maison dont l’origine remonterait aux Ansār ; il reçut une solide formation en sciences religieuses dans sa
ville natale, puis à Tunis et au Caire ; il composa, dans le genre Manāqib,
outre cette hagiographie du cheikh al-Dahmānī, un récit des manāqib de son
père, un Kitāb jalā’ al-afkār fī manāqib al-Ansār, et un dictionnaire bio-hagiographique dont le titre subit quelques changements, au gré des années et
des auteurs qui le citent. Ibn Nājī (m. 839/1436), qui l’utilise comme source
principale dans ses Ma‘ālim, le cite ainsi : Ma‘ālim al-īmān fī manāqib al22
mashhūrīn min ‘ulamā’ al-Qayrawān . Al-Dabbāgh laissa également plusieurs œuvres de hadith, un commentaire du Tahdhīb d’al-Barādhi‘ī (sur la
Mudawwana de Sahnūn), un Barnāmaj, aujourd’hui perdu, sorte de cursus
studiorum comportant une liste de ses maîtres (shuyūkh) et de ses ijāzas. On
lui attribue, d’autre part, un ouvrage d’hagiologie Mashāriq anwār al-qulūb
23
wa mafātih asrār al-ghuyūb , un traité sur l’amour divin, comportant dix
sections (abwāb) dont le but « est de dévoiler la vérité sur le cheminement à
la rencontre des amants (haqīqat al-sulūk ilā janāb al-ahbāb), et l’arrivée en
présence de la Beauté divine (wa l-wusūl ilā hadrat al-jamāl al-ilāhī), autour
de laquelle tournoient les cœurs et les intelligences (allatī tahūmu ‘alayhā
al-qulūb wa l-albāb), ainsi que sur la contemplation de la Lumière suprême…
(wa mushāhadat al-nūr al-a‘lā) » ; il s’agit d’une voie de la connaissance sa20 Surnom qui lui viendrait de son arrière-grand-père lequel se serait fait passer pour
un teinturier afin d’échapper à la judicature, Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, IV, p. 90.
21 Ma‘ālim, t. I, éd. I. Chabbouh, 2e édition, al-Maktaba al-‘atīqa, Tunis, 1993, p. 3.
22 Sur les différents titres de l’ouvrage, voir M. Mahfoudh, Tarājim al-mu’allifīn altūnusiyyin, Beyrouth, Dār al-Gharb al-islāmī, 1984, t. 2, p. 290.
23 Al-Dabbāgh, Mashāriq anwār al-qulūb wa mafātih asrār al-ghuyūb, éd. Helmut
Ritter, Beyrouth, Dār Sader, s.d.

347

NELLY AMRI

voureuse par l’amour, et de la réalisation par la vision béatifique, objectif recherché par tous ceux qui sont dotés d’une raison parfaite et d’une âme
24
noble . L’auteur y fait montre d’une grande érudition soufie : le texte est
émaillé de vers provenant d’autorités en la matière, telles Bistāmī, al-Junayd,
Hallāj, al-Qushayrī, al-Sarrāj al-Qāri’ et Ibn ‘Arabī. Ce traité était connu
d’Ibn al-Khatīb qui le cite dans le préambule à sa Rawdat al-ta‘rīf bi l-hubb
25
al-sharīf . Cet ouvrage, si son attribution à al-Dabbāgh se trouve confir26
mée , vient encore souligner l’originalité de l’homme et de son œuvre dans
le contexte ifrīqiyen, notamment kairouanais.
Un autre trait par lequel se distingue notre auteur : la composition d’une
chronique Wāsitat al-nizām fī tawārīkh mulūk al-islām, aujourd’hui perdue,
dans laquelle il aurait développé, contrairement à la position quasi habituelle des oulémas sunnites, une opinion plutôt favorable aux Fatimides. Il
loue, chez ces derniers, la pratique de la censure des mœurs, et l’interdiction
de la consommation du vin, incriminant leurs propagandistes (du‘āt) responsables selon lui des méfaits attribués à la dynastie ; il y loue notamment le
calife al-Mansūr bi lāh pour son équité, sa bonté à l’égard de ses sujets, son
27
éloquence, sa longanimité et sa suppression de l’impôt du kharāj . Cette position est diamétralement opposée à celle qu’il défend dans les Ma‘ālim, où
les ‘Ubaydides et leur « doctrine défectueuse » (madhhabuhum al-fāsid),
sont sévèrement condamnés. Ce qui n’est pas sans poser à l’historien un
problème ; lequel avait déjà rendu perplexes les oulémas et chroniqueurs
28
médiévaux . Ainsi, nous serions en présence d’une personnalité intellec29
tuelle complexe et forte , qui jusque-là n’a pas bénéficié de l’intérêt qu’elle
24 Voir le préambule et l’introduction de l’auteur, Mashāriq, pp. 2-10.
25 Ibn al-Khatīb, Rawdat al-ta‘rīf bi l-hubb al-sharīf, éd. A. ‘Atā’, Beyrouth, Dār alkutub al-‘ilmiyya, 2002, pp. 51-52 ; il l’attribue d’ailleurs à « Ibn al-Dabbāgh alQayrawānī ».
26 C. Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Literatur, Suppl. II, p. 337, Ziraiklī, alA‘lām, Beyrouth, 7e éd., 1986, t. III, p. 329 et M. Mahfoudh, Tarājim al-mu’allifīn, t. II,
p. 292, citent le Kitāb Mashāriq al-anwār au nombre des œuvres attribuées au cheikh
al-Dabbāgh ; par contre ni M. Ibn Makhlūf dans sa Shajarat al-nūr al zakiyya fī tabaqāt al-Mālikiyya, Le Caire, 1931-2, p. 193, ni Kahhāla, Mu‘jam al-mu’allifīn, Damas, 1959, vol. V, p. 185 ne citent cette œuvre.
27 Ma‘ālim, t. I, pp. 25-26.
28 Notamment al-‘Awānī, principale source d’Ibn Nājī pour le VIIe/XIIIe siècle, mais
aussi ce dernier.
29 N’avait-il pas critiqué, commentant la grande controverse à Kairouan au sujet des
karāmāt des saints, « l’incapacité d’Ibn Abī Zayd al-Qayrawānī à saisir les grâces
probatoires dont Dieu gratifie Ses Amis » (qusūrun minhu […] ‘an idrāk ma wahaba
Allāh awliyā’ahu min al-karāmāt), Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, III, pp. 145-146.

348

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

mérite au sein des oulémas ifrīqiyens du VIIe/XIIIe siècle. Quant à la date de
sa mort que l’éditeur des Ma‘ālim place en 696/1296, il semblerait qu’il faille
adopter celle de 699/1300 figurant dans sa notice et rapportée par al-‘Awānī,
l’une des sources majeures d’Ibn Nājī pour le VII e/XIIIe siècle ; cette date est
30
confirmée d’ailleurs par la place de la tarjama du cheikh dans les Ma‘ālim .

Les épouses du saint comme transmetteuses de récits sur
lui : Umm ‘Umar Hafsa, principale source d’al-Dabbāgh
L’éditeur des Asrār al-jaliyya signale que le cinquième des anecdotes rapportées sur le cheikh, provient de ses épouses – au premier rang desquelles
31
vient Hafsa Umm ‘Umar – et de ses fils ; nous avons dénombré vingt-six
récits rapportés par les épouses d’al-Dahmānī parmi lesquels pas moins de
32
vingt-trois récits sont transmis par la seule Hafsa et au nombre desquels
trois seulement sont rapportés à partir des novices du cheikh. On peut se demander pourquoi Hafsa occupe-t-elle cette place dans la transmission de la
mémoire hagiographique du cheikh, l’auteur ne rapportant que deux anecdotes de la bouche d’Umm Yūsuf – pourtant la première de ses épouses –,
une de celle d’Umm ‘Abd al-Rahmān et aucune de Na‘īma, sa quatrième
épouse. Serait-ce en raison d’un lien de plus grande intimité avec le saint,
conforté, par ailleurs, par une longue cohabitation ? Ce dernier élément –
Umm ‘Abd al-Rahmān et Na‘īma sont respectivement les troisième et qua33
trième femmes du cheikh, épousées vraisemblablement à la fin de sa vie –,
ne peut être invoqué pour Umm Yūsuf : reste l’hypothèse toujours plausible
que cette dernière décéda avant qu’al-Dabbāgh n’ait terminé son hagiographie (vers 647/1249-50), car des deux récits qu’il lui attribue, l’un est direct,
l’autre est rapporté par des disciples du cheikh. On peut aussi émettre l’hypothèse, qu’accréditent un certain nombre d’anecdotes, d’une relation privi30 Pour la notice d’al-Dabbāgh, voir Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, IV, pp. 88-91 ; voir aussi le témoignage d’al-‘Abdarī dans sa Rihla maghribiyya qui confirme son surnom d’alDabbāgh (wa yu‘rafu bi l-Dabbāgh) témoignage repris par al-Wazīr al-Sarrāj, dans
ses al-Hulal al-sundusiyya fī l-akhbār al-tūnusiyya, éd. Muhammad al-Habīb al-Hīla,
Beyrouth, Dār al-Gharb al-islāmī, 1984, t. I, pp. 249-256 ; voir aussi M. Mahfoudh,
Tarājim al-mu’allifīn, pp. 288-292.
31 Asrār, Ed. p. 37. En effet, dans sa recension des différentes sources d’al-Dabbāgh, et
des nombreux relais de transmission de la mémoire bio-hagiographique du saint,
l’éditeur pointe la place de choix qu’occupe l’une des quatre épouses du cheikh,
Umm ‘Umar Hafsa.
32 Nombre le plus élevé de riwāyāt rapportées par personne, ibid., et p. 94, note 193.
33 En fait, le texte ne fournit aucune indication sur l’ordre dans lequel le cheikh épousa
ses femmes ; mais on arrive, par déduction et par critique interne, à émettre quelques hypothèses.

349

NELLY AMRI

légiée de Hafsa avec al-Dahmānī, reproduisant par là le modèle prophétique,
34
35
notamment la relation du Prophète avec ‘Ā’isha , sa « bien-aimée » celle à
qui on attribue la transmission d’un grand nombre de traditions prophéti36
ques .
Hafsa occupe, en effet, parmi les transmetteurs de la mémoire bio-hagio37
graphique du cheikh, et parmi les sources directes d’al-Dabbāgh , une place
de choix, voire la première place par le nombre de récits qui lui sont attribués (23), nombre le plus élevé de récits transmis par personne, parmi la pa38
rentèle, l’entourage, les compagnons, les disciples et les fuqarā’ du cheikh ;
vingt sont des récits directs ; les trois autres étant rapportés de la bouche de
39
disciples du cheikh ; ces récits indirects, réduits en nombre , montrent,
néanmoins, la révérence dont elle jouit parmi les disciples du cheikh et son
statut de dépositaire, comme eux, de la mémoire de ce dernier. On ignore à
quelle date le cheikh l’épousa ; mais il y a tout lieu de croire qu’elle fut sa
deuxième femme après Umm Yūsuf, eu égard au chiffre élevé de récits
qu’elle rapporte suggérant qu’elle passa de nombreuses années auprès du
cheikh ; peut-être était-elle une assez jeune fille quand il l’épousa (ne l’appelle-t-il pas « fillette » dans l’une des anecdotes ?), ce qui expliquerait
qu’elle lui ait survécu au-delà de l’année 647/1249-50, date de la rédaction
des Asrār. En tout cas, elle est avec lui lors de son séjour à Haybūn, près de
Mahdiyya (avant son voyage en Orient et son installation définitive à Kairouan) ; elle est aussi la mère d’Abū ‘Alī ‘Umar, qui deviendra l’intendant de
son père vers la fin de ses jours, signe probablement du lien étroit qui l’unissait à celui-ci, ainsi que de l’âge mûr de ce fils, ce qui plaiderait en faveur de
34 Et non pas avec Hafsa bt. ‘Umar b. Abī Tālib, comme le suggère l’éditeur du texte
Asrār, Ed., p. 94, n. 193.
35 Sur ‘Ā’isha qui incarna avec force, tant dans la Sīra que dans l’imaginaire musulman
cette figure de la « bien-aimée du bien-aimé de Dieu » (habībat habīb Allāh), voir F.
Mernissi, Le Harem politique, p. 85 (« ‘Amr b. al-‘Ās demanda au Prophète : – Quelle
est la personne que tu aimes le plus au monde ? – ‘Ā’isha, lui répondit celui-ci ») ;
voir aussi Martin Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad. Sa vie d’après les sources les plus
anciennes, Paris, Seuil, 1986, pp. 444-445.
36 Sur ‘Ā’isha comme transmetteuse sur le Prophète, la Tradition la citant comme sanad de non moins de 1 210 hadiths, cf. F. Mernissi, Le Harem politique, pp. 91-92 et p.
100 ; voir aussi A. Al-Hifnī, Mawsū‘at Umm al-mu’minīn, ‘Ā’isha bint Abī Bakr, Le
Caire, Maktabat Madbūli, 2003 : ‘Ā’isha aurait rapporté 5636 traditions, cf. pp. 12 et
15-17. On attribue au Prophète ce hadith : « puisez une partie de votre religion chez
la petite rousse » (al-humayyira, le diminutif donné par le Prophète à son épouse).
37 Cette transmission directe est généralement inaugurée par la phrase : wa haddathatnī zawjatuhu Hafsa ‘anhu (son épouse Hafsa me rapporta de lui ce propos) etc.
38 Voir la recension qu’en fait l’éditeur, Asrār, Ed., pp. 37-42.
39 Asrār, fol. 106a et b [279] et 115b [288].

350

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

l’ancienneté du mariage du cheikh avec sa mère ; il sera aussi le troisième
maître, après son frère Ibrāhīm, lequel avait d’abord succédé à son père.
Nous passerons en revue les différents récits rapportés par les femmes
du cheikh, notamment son épouse Hafsa, en tentant d’en analyser la structure : la part des récits de première main et ceux indirects ; le rapport entre
le cheikh et sa ou ses femmes induit par ces récits ; s’agit-il de propos ou
dits attribués au cheikh et à quels registres appartiennent-ils ? ou bien de
faits et gestes informant une conduite à imiter ? ou enfin des prodiges dont
elles auraient été témoins et avératrices ; quel est le contenu biographique,
hagiographique ou hagiologique de ces récits et son importance dans cette
mémoire en construction ? Comme dans tout récit de manāqib, il est souvent difficile de faire la part entre le « biographique » et « l’hagiographique » ; d’autre part, la même anecdote peut receler des éléments à caractère
biographique et d’autres de nature hagiographique ; aussi nous a-t-il paru
plus conforme à la nature de nos matériaux de répartir les récits rapportés
par les épouses du cheikh en récits à caractère bio-hagiographique et en récits à teneur hagiologique ; par les premiers, nous entendons tout ce qui
touche à la « carrière » du saint, à sa reconnaissance comme tel et aux prodiges qui lui sont attribués : ses débuts, ses maîtres et ses compagnons, ses
tribulations entre les ribāts du Sahel, son rôle dans la tawbat al-bawādī (la
repentance des Bédouins) mais aussi ses épouses, ses enfants, son mode de
subsistance, son habitat, sa mort, etc. ; quant aux récits se rapportant aux
états mystiques du cheikh, à ses propos à caractère eschatologique, à son
combat contre la nafs, qui nous ont semblé relever davantage de la doctrine
de la sainteté, en tout cas, ressortir de l’idéal de sainteté, nous les avons répertoriés comme récits à teneur « hagiologique ». Cette répartition qui peut
parfois paraître un peu factice, nous a paru justifiée dans le souci d’évaluer
la nature de ces témoignages rapportés par la parentèle féminine du cheikh,
en comparaison avec les autres informateurs sur ce dernier.

Récits à teneur bio-hagiographique
Al-Dabbāgh rapporte cette anecdote, dont l’une des versions

40

est due à

40 La version que nous citons ci-dessous est due à Abū ‘Alī ‘Umar al-Qarwī, l’un des
disciples du cheikh ; à la fin du récit, dont l’un des protagonistes est le dénommé
Abū ‘Abd Allāh al-Sūsī al-Mu’adhdhin, al-Dabbāgh écrit : « cette anecdote […] fut
rapportée par Umm ‘Umar, l’épouse du cheikh sur le récit de ce dernier » (Asrār, fol.
12a [150]) ; ce n’est pas la première fois que l’hagiographe rapporte le même récit dû
à deux sources différentes ; ici, il semble bien que le récit de Hafsa vient corroborer
celui rapporté par le disciple.

351

NELLY AMRI

Umm ‘Umar [Hafsa]. Elle se déroule durant l’étape de murābata du cheikh, à ses
débuts, vivant alors dans un extrême dénuement avec son épouse Umm Yūsuf
41
et son fils Yūsuf, lors de ses retraites pieuses dans les ribāts de Monastir :
« Un jour durant l’Aïd [al-Adhā] et alors que le cheikh était à Shaqānis
[au ribāt, au Nord de Monastir] il n’avait strictement rien à manger dans sa
cellule et son fils Yūsuf était encore un enfant ; il dit à sa femme : – mets de
l’eau à bouillir dans le pot-au-feu afin que le petit se calme [cesse de pleurer] et que les voisins retrouvent leur quiétude ; ce jour-là, arriva le cheikh
Abū Muhammad ‘Abd al-‘Azīz [al-Mahdawī (m. 621/1224)] du ribāt de Monastir où il était en retraite pieuse ; le cheikh ne trouva rien à lui offrir ; les
voisins lui envoyèrent un pain au son pour l’enfant ; il le partagea en deux
et en offrit une moitié au cheikh Abū Muhammad […] ; le lendemain après
la prière du subh, [les deux hommes] virent au large, du haut du ribāt, un
navire : le cheikh Abū Yūsuf dit à son compagnon : notre déjeuner aujourd’hui se trouve dans ce bateau. Ils s’en retournèrent dans la cellule et là, il
demanda à Umm Yūsuf de mettre de l’eau à bouillir sur le feu ; dès que le
navire accosta, un homme en descendit portant un demi-mouton, provenant
de la bête qu’il avait immolée ainsi que de la semoule expédiée avec lui de
42
Mahdiyya, il remit tout cela au cheikh ; ils en firent leur repas » .
Concernant l’amitié qui liait le cheikh al-Dahmānī à ‘Abd al-‘Azīz alMahdawī et qui date de la période de mujāhada du cheikh à Mahdiyya et
Zawīla, Hafsa rapporte cette fois-ci un propos du cheikh sur la révérence
dont il était l’objet de la part du cheikh al-Mahdawī : « quand le cheikh Abū
Muhammad ‘Abd al-‘Azīz devait partager ma couche, il ne s’étendait pas à
43
côté de moi mais dans le sens de la largeur, par respect pour moi » .
Un récit rapporté par Hafsa, de la bouche du cheikh, illustre une karāma
de ce dernier, exaucé par Dieu à l’occasion d’une rixe ou d’une agression
44
dont son frère aurait été victime : « j’étais à Shaqānis [dans le ribāt] dans
41 Sur les ribāts en Ifrīqīya à l’époque médiévale, voir N. Djelloul, al-Ribātāt al-sāhiliyya al-ifrīqīya fī l-‘Asr al-wasīt [Les Ribāts côtiers ifrīqiyens au Moyen Âge], Tunis,
Publications du CERES, Série « Histoire », n° 9, 1999 ; Muhammad Hassen, « Les Ribāt
du Sahel d’Ifrīqīya. Peuplement et évolution du territoire au Moyen Âge », in Castrum
7. Zones côtières littorales dans le monde méditerranéen au Moyen Âge, Rome (Coll.
École française de Rome, vol. 105), Madrid (Casa de Velázquez), 2001, pp. 147-162.
42 Asrār, fol. 11b-12a [149-150].
43 Asrār, fol. 6a et b [140] ; l’amitié entre les deux hommes perdura après leur installation respective à Tunis et à Kairouan, Asrār, fol. 113a [286].
44 Une autre anecdote évoque ce séjour du cheikh au ribāt Shaqānis (au nord de Monastir), où il avait semble-t-il une khalwa (lieu de retraite) à l’extérieur du ribāt, Asrār,
fol. 47b [212].

352

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

la mosquée du haut lorsque j’entendis la voix de mon frère Abū Hilāl ; je
sortis ma tête de la lucarne et je vis qu’on le frappait ; je pensai dans mon
for intérieur : un autre que moi serait descendu et aurait fait ceci et cela [en
d’autres termes aurait volé au secours de son frère]. Lorsque les agresseurs
comparurent devant le juge, ils lui dirent : son frère le murābit est également
descendu, l’épée à la main [prêter main forte à son frère contre nous] ; ceci
était un châtiment envoyé par Dieu qui exauça mon vœu de secourir mon
45
frère et de l’aider à se relever » .
Priée par ses disciples de témoigner sur la période d’ascèse du cheikh,
Umm Yūsuf raconte l’un des prodiges de multiplication des pains dont elle
fut témoin, alors qu’ils vivaient dans l’indigence la plus totale, les enfants
pleurant de faim : « le four à pain, vide, s’est miraculeusement rempli et
chaque pain consommé était aussitôt remplacé par un autre ; j’en remplis un
couffin entier ; les enfants furent rassasiés et nous en distribuâmes à la
46
ronde à nos frères en Dieu » .
Sur le don de claire-vue du cheikh et son abstention scrupuleuse, Hafsa
47
48
raconte : « le cheikh était chez nous à Haybūn ; un jour une vieille femme
réputée sainte vint me voir avec des œufs à offrir au cheikh ; dès que je les
lui montrai, il en prit un, puis le posa en silence. – D’où tenez-vous ces
œufs ? je l’en informai ; – pauvre femme, dit-il ; comme je l’invitai à en
manger un, il me répondit : – [cette femme] a acquis ces œufs de manière
49
illicite se disant : ‘je vais mettre le cheikh à l’épreuve et tester son don de
claire vue’. Dis-lui de prendre garde à recommencer ou à agir de la sorte

45 Asrār, fol. 48a [213-4].
46 Asrār, fol. 40b [200].
47 Ce pluriel indique en toute vraisemblance les épouses du cheikh (Umm Yūsuf et
Umm ‘Umar) qui, d’après l’économie du récit, semblent cohabiter ; cette situation
paraît avoir changé lors de l’installation du cheikh à Kairouan, voir infra ; Umm
‘Abd al-Rahmān, qui ne rapporta qu’un seul récit sur le cheikh, ne devait probablement pas faire partie, à cette époque, de la maisonnée ; en tout cas, les épouses du
cheikh le suivent dans ses pérégrinations.
48 Transcrit également Hibūn ; lieu de ribāt à l’époque aghlabide, se trouve au Nordouest de la ville de Mahdiyya : « Le faubourg de Zawīla, disparu sous la poussée
hilalienne, renaît à la vie vers 597/1200 et à la même époque, un peu plus au NordOuest, on commence déjà à citer le village de Hibūn », Mohammed Talbi, « Al-Mahdiyya », Enc. Islam 2, V, pp. 1236-1238.
49 En d’autres termes, pouvant en invalider la consommation, car enfreignant les règles
de scrupule inhérentes à celle-ci et que résume la phrase, assez laconique, min wajh
ghayr tayyib.

353

NELLY AMRI

avec quiconque. Quand je m’enquis auprès de la vieille au sujet de cette af50
faire, elle reconnut les faits » .
Hafsa rapporte aussi : « Umm Yūsuf eut besoin d’une servante ; elle de51
manda au cheikh d’en acheter une : il répondit : – si, par la grâce de Dieu,
nous recevons une bourse de tel aspect, attachée avec un cordon de telle
couleur et contenant vingt dinars, vous achèterez alors une servante ; un
52
peu plus tard, arriva une bourse telle que le cheikh l’avait décrite » .
Umm Yūsuf raconte : un jour la main du cheikh devint toute maculée
d’une teinte qui ressemblait au henné, alors que jamais auparavant il n’avait
utilisé de teinture ; il en éprouva quelque gêne et ne réussit pas à s’en départir ; cela dura presque deux mois ; comme je le questionnai à ce sujet, il me
répondit : ceci est l’empreinte d’une poignée de main que j’ai donnée à un
53
serviteur de Dieu ; il ne me révéla pas son identité .
Parmi les récits indirects rapportés par Hafsa, de la bouche d’un certain
Abū Sa‘īd b. Shaykh al-Ribāt qui avait coutume de visiter le cheikh à Mahdiyya, une anecdote dont les événements se déroulent dans une échoppe à
54
Tunis, après le retour du cheikh de chez Abū Madyan en compagnie de son
50 Asrār, fol. 13a [151-2].
51 La société ifrīqiyenne de l’époque pratiquait couramment l’esclavage comme tout le
monde musulman du temps ; celui-ci ne fut aboli que sous la dynastie husseinite, en
1846 ; sur la condition des hommes et des femmes de condition servile en Ifrīqīya à
l’époque hafside, voir Ibrahim Jadla, al-Mujtama‘ al-hadarī bi-Ifrīqīya fī l-‘ahd alhafsī, Thèse de 3e Cycle, Faculté des Lettres de Tunis, 1988-89 (dactylographiée), pp.
320-322 ; voir aussi du même auteur (qui m’a aimablement communiqué cet article)
« Blacks in Ifrīqīya in the Middle Ages », in Hidemitsu Kuroki, éd., The Influence of
Human Mobility in Muslim Societies, Londres, Kegan Paul, 2003 ; Zawīla, d’après le
Rawd al-Mi‘tār aurait joué le rôle de plaque tournante dans le commerce des esclaves vers l’Ifrīqīya et d’autres destinations et d’après al-Bakrī, la caravane mettait
quatre mois pour arriver du Ghana à Kairouan, ibid., pp. 86-87 ; sur la grande proportion de noirs engagés dans les travaux domestiques, voir p. 88 et 91 ; sur les prix
d’achat des esclaves et leur variations selon le sexe, l’âge, etc., voir pp. 90-91. Sur
l’esclavage des Blancs dans la Régence de Tunis, cf. M’hamed Oualdi, Esclaves et
maîtres. Les mamelouks des beys de Tunis du XVIIe siècle aux années 1880, Paris, Publications de la Sorbonne, 2011.
52 Asrār, fol. 39a [196].
53 Asrār, fol. 46b [211]. C’est la première fois que nous rencontrons dans nos manāqib
ce type de karāma.
54 Sur la date de ce séjour et sa durée, les informations sont plutôt contradictoires, tout
au plus peut-on émettre des hypothèses ; en effet, l’hagiographie mentionne (Asrār,
fol. 4a [134] très laconiquement le voyage du cheikh à Bijāya « après 570 [1174-5] » ;
dans un autre passage, est évoqué son voyage en Orient l’année 596/1199-1200 [en
fait en 595/1199], « après son retour de chez Abū Madyan » (Asrār, fol. 107a [280] ;
comme il paraît peu probable qu’al-Dahmānī soit resté une vingtaine d’années
auprès d’Abū Madyan à Bougie, s’agit-il de deux séjours l’un effectué « après 570 »

354

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

compagnon Abū Zakariyyā’ b. Hanās, exalte la crainte révérencielle (hayba)
qu’inspirait al-Dahmānī à son entourage, et son énergie spirituelle (himma).
Elle met en scène un marchand du souk à qui le cheikh avait acheté de la
marchandise pour dix dinars et qui refusa de se faire payer, même d’un dir 55
ham , tant il éprouvait de la hayba pour le cheikh, à telle enseigne que ses
pantalons en étaient trempés de sueur ; cette crainte révérencielle lui était
inspirée par la « pureté de l’intérieur » du cheikh et la sincérité de sa pratique d’adoration (sidqihi fī mu‘āmalatihi). Le récit pointe également l’abs56
tention scrupuleuse du cheikh qui tient à régler ses achats .
Une autre anecdote est rapportée par Hafsa de la bouche d’Abū Muhammad ‘Abd al-Karīm al-Lamtī, l’un des premiers compagnons du cheikh et
parmi les plus proches de lui par l’imitation de son exemple et la pureté de
son hāl. Il avait coutume de vendre ce que sa femme filait afin de nourrir sa
famille ; lors d’une visite du cheikh à Gabès, celui-ci lui ordonna d’abandonner cela [afin de se consacrer totalement à Dieu et de s’en remettre à Lui
57
pour sa subsistance ?] . « Je lui obéis aussitôt, raconte al-Lamtī, et brisai la
quenouille de mon épouse ; grâce à la bénédiction de son énergie spirituelle
(himma), je n’eus plus besoin de recourir à cela, Dieu m’accorda, dès cet instant, de quoi faire dépense pour ma famille, ce qui me dispensa de m’occu58
per de quoi que ce soit de cet ordre .

55
56
57

58

(encore qu’il faille établir qu’Abū Madyan se trouvait déjà à Bijāya vers 570/1174) et
l’autre avant 594/1197 date généralement admise de sa mort ? reste que l’hagiographie n’évoque qu’un voyage chez le maître andalou. Nous disposons, néanmoins,
d’un indice : le cheikh al-Kinānī al-Jarrāh, qui était aussi du voyage (cf. Asrār, fol. 8b
[144] et 102b [276]), serait mort v. 590/1194 (cf. Claude Addas, Ibn ‘Arabī ou la quête
du Soufre rouge, Paris, Gallimard, 1989, p. 146) ; ainsi ce séjour à Bijāya a dû forcément avoir lieu avant cette date, probablement vers la fin des années 80, les Asrār
accréditant l’idée d’un délai assez court entre le retour de Bijāya et le départ pour
l’Orient. Quant à Abū Madyan, on s’accorde à penser qu’il se trouvait déjà dans la
ville de Bijāya en 581/1185 (cf. Nelly Amri, al-Tasawwuf bi-Ifrīqiya fi l-‘asr al-wasīt,
Tunis, Contraste Editions, 2009, p. 103 et n. 2) et qu’il y séjourna jusqu'à sa mort
survenue en 594/1197, près de Tlemcen.
Le dirham, pièce d’argent, emprunté aux Almohades : le dirham hafside pesait 1 gr. 5
environ ; tandis que le dinār constituait la monnaie d’or ou « doublon » de 4 gr. 72 ;
cf. R. Brunschvig, La Berbérie orientale, op. cit., II, chapitre VIII.
Asrār, fol. 106a et b [279].
D’après Sahl al-Tustarī, cité par Denis Gril : gagner sa vie, c’est suivre la Sunna du
Prophète ; s’en remettre à Dieu, c’est se conformer à son état (hāl). « L’interdiction
de travailler qui est faite aux saints à un certain stade de leur parcours est assez
fréquente et marque l’accès à cet état prophétique », D. Gril, « Le saint et le maître
ou la sainteté comme science de l’homme », in N. Amri et D. Gril, éd., Saint et
sainteté, pp. 84-85.
Asrār, fol. 115b [288]. Cette anecdote nous rappelle celle rapportée par Ibn ‘Arabī

355

NELLY AMRI
59

Quant à la relation du cheikh avec Abū ‘Alī al-Naftī (m. 610/1213) , à
qui le liait une profonde amitié, là encore, Hafsa rapporte ces propos attribués au cheikh : « quand Abū ‘Alī al-Naftī me fit ses adieux, il me dit : pas
de séparation [entre nous] ; nous sommes un esprit ; et il récita ces vers »
(suivent trois vers exaltant l’union, dans deux corps, d’un seul et unique es60
prit) .
Elle rapporte aussi ce propos du cheikh : « quand mourut mon frère [en
Dieu] Abū ‘Alī al-Naftī, dit le cheikh, l’un de ses compagnons vint m’annoncer la nouvelle ; il éclata en sanglots et poussa un gémissement, puis il déclama ces vers [suivent quatre vers sur Salmā, sa contemplation et son mys61
tère]. Ensuite, il se jeta à mes pieds en sanglotant et en répétant ces vers » .
Un récit rapporté par Hafsa exalte la compassion du cheikh vis-à-vis des
pauvres, en particulier pendant les grandes fêtes religieuses, comme la Fête
du Sacrifice, et sa générosité exemplaire, n’hésitant pas à faire aumône aux
dépens des siens et en l’occurrence ici de sa propre épouse Umm ‘Umar
[Hafsa] qui avait une brebis destinée à être sacrifiée (wa kānat lī na‘ja li ludhiya) ; la morale du récit – celui qui donne dans le sentier de Dieu, est
doublement récompensé –, se double d’une karāma du cheikh (don de
dans la Durra al-fākhira sur Fātima bint Abī l-Muthannā qui vivait à ses débuts du
filage de la laine, mais Dieu lui enlève l’usage du doigt avec lequel elle filait, D. Gril,
« Le saint et le maître… », op. cit., p. 82.
59 La rencontre entre les deux hommes, selon l’hagiographie (Asrār, fol. 4b [136] et
112a et b [285]), aurait eu lieu après le retour du cheikh d’Égypte et du pèlerinage
(wa laqiya Abā ‘Alī al-Naftī ba‘da wusūlihi ilā Ifrīqīya min al-Mashriq) ; donc
vraisemblablement vers 596/1199-1200, laissant entendre que c’était là leur première
rencontre ; le récit d’Ibn Qunfudh dans son Uns al-faqīr wa ‘izz al-haqīr, éd. A. Faure
et M. Fasi, Rabat, 1965, p. 97, évoquant les deux hommes au sein du groupe des six
maîtres ifrīqiyens qui se sont rendus chez Abū Madyan à Bijāya et qui furent initiés
directement par lui, serait-il à prendre davantage dans sa dimension symbolique et
légendaire plutôt qu’historique, une sorte de contraction, dans le temps et dans
l’espace, du sanad madyanī. Non pas qu’il faille remettre en cause l’initiation de tel
ou tel maître par le cheikh de Bijāya, notamment al-Mahdawī ou encore al-Dahmānī
et son compagnon Ibn Hanās (initiation confirmée par plus d’une source), mais
plutôt la mise en scène collective, autour de la métaphore du voyage, de cette initiation, inscrite dans une volonté de rattachement à la silsila madyaniyya, à l’époque
où ces chaînes apparaissent dans les sources (VIIIe/XIVe siècle, le Uns étant rédigé en
787/1385-6). Voir à ce sujet N. Amri, al-Tasawwuf bi-Ifrīqīya, pp. 154-156.
60 Asrār, fol. 5a [137]. Hind, figure féminine de la littérature classique arabe, ainsi que
Salmā dans les vers qui suivent, deviennent dans la littérature mystique des symboles ésotériques figurant l’Etre divin tant désiré : les vers d’Ibn al-Fārid et d’Ibn
‘Arabī abondent d’allusions à Hind et Salmā, cf. Annemarie Schimmel, L’islam au
féminin. La Femme dans la spiritualité musulmane, Paris, Albin Michel, 2000, p. 119.
61 Asrār, fol. 5a [137-8].

356

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

claire-vue) : « un homme vint un jour se plaindre au cheikh de sa femme qui
le harcelait pour leur acheter le mouton de l’Aïd, alors qu’il n’en avait pas
les moyens [il s’agit d’un topos de la littérature hagiographique] ; aussitôt le
cheikh ordonna à l’un de ses fuqarā’ de lui donner la brebis ; il s’exécuta et
je n’en sus rien. Le cheikh resta longtemps à la mosquée et moi j’attendais
qu’on amena la bête afin de l’immoler ; quand le soleil fut au zénith, il rentra ; j’appris alors qu’il l’avait donnée ; je rouspétai et le tirai vigoureusement vers moi par sa tunique tandis qu’il riait ; puis il dit : ‘celui qui la prit
est un homme dans le besoin ; quant à nous, Dieu nous dédommagera et tu
recevras, en contrepartie de cette bête, deux’. Je cessai alors de le quereller.
Quelques instants après, nous reçûmes un premier plateau, puis deux autres
jusqu’à ce qu’on eût l’équivalent de deux moutons ; ‘ceci est pour toi’, me
dit le cheikh. Puis un autre don (de viande ?) arriva ; celui-là, me dit-il, n’est
pas à toi, remets la marmite sur le feu, les invités à qui ce plat est destiné
sont en route vers nous ; je m’exécutai, ces derniers ne tardèrent pas à arriver et ils mangèrent. J’en fus étonnée et appris à accepter son état parfois,
62
après qu’il eut beaucoup enduré de mon comportement passé » .
Parmi les récits indirects que l’hagiographe rapporte de Hafsa, une anecdote que cette dernière tient d’un témoin direct, un certain Abū ‘Alī b. Abī
Yāsīn, illustrant le don de claire vue du cheikh, mis ici au service de la recommandation du bien et de la condamnation du mal : « j’avais coutume,
rapporte l’homme, de rendre visite au cheikh à Kairouan et de lui offrir à
chaque fois quelque chose que j’achetais à crédit du souk ; un jour, je me
rendis chez lui les mains vides et en éprouvai une certaine honte ; il me regarda et dit : jusqu’à quand vas-tu t’endetter ainsi auprès des marchands ;
prends garde, à compter d’aujourd’hui, à le refaire. Je lui obéis et depuis ce
63
jour je n’eus plus besoin de m’endetter ».
Le saint est un homme exaucé de Dieu, il est source de miséricorde et de
dons bénéfiques dans son milieu et un puissant facteur de tawba (retour à
Dieu) à une époque où les sources évoquent, avec force détails, la turbulence
des Bédouins ; la conduite de nombreux cheikhs à l’égard de ces derniers,
notamment à Kairouan, oscille entre douceur et rigueur, usant, selon les cir constances de l’une ou de l’autre, mais reste globalement marquée du sceau
d’une certaine tolérance afin d’encourager ces hommes à quitter la hirāba (le
64
brigandage) et à faire repentance . Al-Dabbāgh attribue au cheikh Abū Yū62 Asrār, fol. 91a et b [264].
63 Asrār, fol. 47a [211-2].
64 Cf. Nelly Amri, « Magistère scientifique, ascèse et patronage rural. Les figures du

357

NELLY AMRI

suf un rôle de premier plan dans cette entreprise de conversion y compris
dans son propre clan des Banū Dahmān, comme le montre ce récit rapporté
par Hafsa Umm ‘Umar, où elle apparaît comme actrice directe et presque
partie prenante d’une karāma accordée au cheikh : « un jour, dit-elle, à
l’aube, Abū ‘Abd Allāh Muhammad b. Dahmān frappa à la porte, me remit
65
un peu de harīsa pour le cheikh, d’une valeur d’un dirham ; quand nous
l’offrîmes au cheikh et qu’il se fût lavé les mains, il demeura pensif pendant
une heure, sans rien consommer de la harīsa ; comme je lui en demandai la
raison, il me dit : ‘cet homme nous a porté ceci et a bravé l’obscurité et la
boue, je me suis dit qu’il fallait le récompenser par une somme de cent dirhams ; mais je me dis que cent dirhams étaient finalement peu de chose ; un
dinar aussi est insuffisant ; je me dis alors cent dinars feraient l’affaire ; mais
aussitôt ils m’ont apparu peu de chose, alors j’ai pensé à cinq cents dinars’.
Je lui dis : mange ! une ouverture viendra de Dieu. Il mangea ; peu de temps
après, Dieu gratifia le dit homme d’une somme d’argent et d’un lot de terre
dont la valeur était de cinq cents dinars ou plus ; il revint à résipiscence et
acquit, depuis, une bonne réputation ; quant on lui demandait d’où cela lui
66
venait-il, il répondait : c’est la baraka du cheikh Abū Yūsuf » .
Un autre récit évoque également cette bénédiction qui émane du saint et
de tout ce qui provient de lui, notamment quand il s’agit d’aumône aux
pauvres parmi les pèlerins : c’est ainsi que Hafsa raconte qu’un jour un miséreux frappa à la porte ; dès qu’elle lui eut ouvert, il lui tendit un dirham à
remettre au cheikh ; « ce que je fis, dit-elle. Le cheikh me dit : j’avais fait
l’aumône d’un dirham à ce pauvre au moment du pèlerinage ; il l’utilisa
pour faire son hajj et voilà qu’il me le rend. On demanda à l’homme comment cela fut-il possible, il répondit : chaque fois que j’avais besoin d’acheter quelque chose, je sortais le dirham de ma poche ; aussitôt mes besoins
étaient satisfaits par la grâce de Dieu sans que je n’aie à dépenser la dite
67
pièce » .
Le saint a une connaissance prémonitoire de sa mort ; Hafsa raconte :
« quand le cheikh reprit connaissance, lors de sa maladie [à laquelle on pensait qu’il ne survivrait pas], il me dit : – je guérirai et ne mourrai pas avant
d’avoir eu deux autres fils, car j’ai eu une vision au cours de laquelle me
saint homme à Kairouan du VIIe/XIIIe au IXe/XVe siècle, d’après le dictionnaire d’Ibn
Nājī », in N. Amri et D. Gril, éd., Saint et sainteté, p. 174.
65 Sorte de mets fait de froment cuit et de viandes cuites broyées et pétries en pâte,
Kazimirski, Dictionnaire arabe-français, Paris, Maisonneuve et Cie, 1860, p. 1412.
66 Asrār, fol. 41a [201].
67 Asrār, fol. 56b et 57a [228].

358

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

furent données deux épées. Il vécut jusqu’à la naissance d’Ishāq et de ‘Abd
68
al-Malik, puis il mourut, puisse Dieu lui faire miséricorde » .
Ces propos bio-hagiographiques rapportés par les épouses du cheikh et
notamment par Hafsa éclairent tout un pan de la vie « privée » du saint,
dans la fraîcheur de son quotidien et dans son intimité familiale, avec ses
femmes et ses enfants. Ils n’en recèlent pas moins un intérêt documentaire
évident quant à la « carrière » du saint : ses maîtres et compagnons, sa reconnaissance et les prodiges qui lui sont attribués.

Propos à teneur hagiologique
Examinons, à présent, les propos rapportés par la parentèle féminine du
cheikh, notamment son épouse Hafsa, informant les états mystiques de ce
dernier, son combat contre la nafs, ses paroles à teneur eschatologique, en
un mot, ce qui relève davantage de la doctrine de la sainteté et du type spirituel incarné par al-Dahmānī.
Umm ‘Umar [Hafsa] rapporte ce propos du cheikh : « quand j’étais encore enfant, je m’acquittais de mes prières et ne les délaissais point ; quand
69
je devins légalement responsable , j’aimais monter les chevaux et porter de
beaux vêtements, et ce, durant près de trois ans ; dès que je m’apprêtais à
faire ma prière, j’étais en proie à un sentiment de honte et de timidité,
comme si le récipient [de mes ablutions] me rejetait ou que la terre sur laquelle je priais ne supportait pas mon poids. Je tombai, durant ces trois années, trois fois gravement malade, à telle enseigne qu’on prépara à chaque
fois mon linceul, jusqu’au jour où Dieu permit que j’ouvris les yeux, alors
mon état changea : tout ce que j’avais apprécié par le passé comme chevaux
et vêtements de luxe, prenait désormais à mes yeux l’aspect de frocs rapié cés et de squelettes rebutants sur un tas d’immondices ; je redoublai alors
70
d’efforts et d’ascétisme » .
Hafsa raconte : « le cheikh a dit : – durant mon ascèse (fī ayyām mujāhadatī), j’entendis quelqu’un rapporter ce propos, attribué à Ka‘b al71
Ahbār : ‘nous avons trouvé dans la Torah douze points [sur lesquels nous
68
69
70
71

Asrār, fol. 59a [231].
Quand il eut atteint la puberté.
Asrār, fol. 81b [255].
Ka‘b al-Ahbār (m. 32/652-3), Juif du Yémen converti à l’islam probablement en
17/638 et considéré comme la plus ancienne autorité en matière de traditions judéoislamiques ; enterré pour les uns à Hims où il se serait retiré (Tabarī et al-Harawī),
pour les autres à Damas (Yāqūt et Ibn Battūta) et pour d’autres enfin à al-Djīza en
Égypte (Ibn Jubayr et Maqrīzī), Ka‘b passe pour avoir possédé une connaissance très

359

NELLY AMRI
72

serons questionnés] (mas’ala) ; nous les inscrivîmes dans nos niches de
73
prière (mahāribinā) de sorte à les observer chaque jour cinq fois’ ; quand
j’entendis ce propos, poursuivit le cheikh, je notai ces points et les portai à
mon cou ; chaque fois que mon âme charnelle (nafs) avait tendance au repos
ou à l’inclinaison à une chose ou que je fus las de l’effort contre mon ego, je
74
les observais et œuvrais en conséquence » .
Elle rapporte également ce propos du cheikh : « quand j’ai épousé ma
femme originaire de Sousse (al-sūsiyya) [il s’agit de sa première épouse,
Umm Yūsuf], le soir de mes noces, dès que j’ai porté les yeux sur son visage,
celui-ci prit pour moi l’aspect d’un crâne et d’un vieux squelette ; j’y occupai
75
longtemps mon esprit » . On rapporte de lui ce propos : [Umm Yūsuf] était
une femme vertueuse et belle ; elle était connue pour sa piété et ses pro76
diges .
[Umm ‘Umar] rapporte de la bouche du cheikh, ce récit : « je marchais
un jour en compagnie du faqīh Yahyā b. ‘Awāna ; une vieille femme marchait devant nous, il me dit : presse donc le pas ô Ya‘qūb, il vaut mieux marcher derrière un lion que de marcher derrière une femme ; je lui dis alors :
‘c’est une vieille femme’. Il me répondit : ‘certes, mais à l’instigation de Satan et sous l’emprise de ta nafs (l’âme charnelle), tu pourrais te dire : il fut
un temps où elle devait être comme ceci ou comme cela, et tu perdrais ainsi
ton temps en vaines conjectures’. J’acquiesçai, dit le cheikh, à cette opinion,
puis je lui dis : ‘ô maître, quant à Ya‘qūb [il parle de lui-même], si jamais son

72

73
74
75
76

profonde de la Bible et de la tradition sud-arabique ainsi qu’une sagesse personnelle
qu’attestent les nombreux propos qui lui sont attribués ; il est également à l’origine
de traditions concernant ‘Umar ibn al-Khattāb et considérées comme authentiques ;
sur lui voir M. Schmitz, « Ka‘b al-Ahbār », Enc. Islam 2, IV, pp. 330-331.
Nous avons opté pour cette traduction, dans un sens eschatologique, en référence
aux versets relatifs au questionnement des hommes au Jour du Jugement et à la reddition des comptes (Coran 16, 93 ; 29, 13 ; 16, 56) (nous précisons, néanmoins, que
cette forme grammaticale n’est jamais utilisée dans le texte coranique, mais seulement dans le hadith (voir Muhammad Fu’ād ‘Abd al-Bāqī, al-Mu‘jam al-mufahras lialfāz al-Qur’ān al-karīm, Beyrouth, Dār al-Jīl, 1987, p. 336-338 et Ibn Manzūr, Lisān
al-‘Arab, Beyrouth, Dār Sader, 2005, t. VII, pp. 97-98 ; sur les différents épisodes du
Jugement Dernier, cf. Nelly Amri, Les saints en islam, les messagers de l’espérance.
Sainteté et eschatologie au Maghreb aux XIVe et XVe siècles, Paris, Cerf, 2008, pp. 5356 ; 61-62 ; 66-7 ; 131-132 ; 239-240). La suite du propos attribué au cheikh autorise
cette interprétation.
Le mihrāb est, dans toute mosquée ou sanctuaire, la niche indiquant l’orientation de
la prière la qibla ; aussi avons-nous opté pour cette traduction maximaliste.
Asrār, fol. 11a [148].
Asrār, fol. 81b-82a [255].
Asrār, fol. 82a [255].

360

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

regard se posait sur de telles choses, elles lui apparaissent aussitôt sous l’as pect de squelettes et de vieux os jetés sur un tas d’immondices’. Il en fut
étonné et me dit : ‘cela est autre chose, c’est une grâce dont Dieu gratifie celui qu’Il prend sous Sa protection’ ; il ajouta aussi : ‘la raison saine, d’essence lumineuse, saisit les choses dans leur réalité essentielle, ce qui est une
77
grâce accordée aux élus parmi les saints’ » . Nous réservons, ci-dessous, un
commentaire de ces deux anecdotes dans un développement séparé consacré
à la conduite du saint vis-à-vis du corps de la femme, à l’aune du modèle
prophétique.
Sur les états spirituels du cheikh, Umm ‘Umar [Hafsa] raconte : « Le
cheikh avait l’habitude, dans la plupart de ses états spirituels (fī akthar
ahwālihi), de s’allonger sur le dos et d’être totalement absent comme s’il
n’était pas avec nous ; quand il revenait à lui, je le questionnais sur son état ;
je crois qu’il n’appréciait pas d’être questionné à certains moments ; et
quand je récidivais […] en le conjurant de me répondre (ba‘da an aqsamtu
‘alayhi), il disait : – Fillette ! le mur s’est ouvert pour moi et j’ai vu la Ka‘ba
78
et les Substituts (al-abdāl) dans leurs circumambulations tout autour
79
(yatūfūn bihā) ; c’est ce qui me détourna de vous » .
Elle rapporte ces propos dont le troisième a une teneur eschatologique
évidente : « Il dit : – celui qui me rend visite et dont la foi est excellente, ce80
lui-là est un maître (shaykh) et en lui se trouve la baraka . Il dit aussi : – le
81
héros parmi mes compagnons est celui qui peut garder sept mille hommes .
Il dit aussi : – ceci est inscrit sur les registres (al-zimām) : le nombre de ceux
qui seront, si Dieu le veut, sous ma bannière, est de douze mille hommes. Il
dit : – réjouissez-vous de cette bonne nouvelle et annoncez-la à nos compa82
gnons et aux compagnons de ceux-ci » .
77 Asrār, fol. 82a [255]. Dans l’hagiologie islamique, notamment dans la doctrine akbarienne, le saint (le serviteur de Dieu) est doublement protégé du châtiment qu’appelle son péché et de l’occurrence même de celui-ci : « Le premier procède de la générosité divine… Le second est une grâce et un privilège particulier », cf. Ibn ‘Arabī,
Les Illuminations de la Mecque, Anthologie présentée par Michel Chodkiewicz, Paris,
Albin Michel, 1997, p. 129.
78 Une catégorie de la hiérarchie invisible des saints.
79 Asrār, fol. 9a [145].
80 La foi dans le maître (et les maîtres en général) est un charisme en soi.
81 Le maître garde et même surveille ses disciples où qu’ils soient : « le cheikh n’acceptait aucune négligence de la part de ses compagnons et discutait avec nous de toute
chose, petite ou grande ; il surveillait nos faits et gestes jour et nuit… », Asrār, fol.
10b [147].
82 Asrār, fol. 6b [140] ; sur la figure du saint comme intercesseur dans l’au-delà et sur la
présence, de plus de plus marquée à partir notamment du XIII e siècle, des thèmes

361

NELLY AMRI

Hafsa raconte : « Le cheikh fut gravement malade dix ans avant sa
83
84
mort ; la sainte (al-murābita) Umm Yahyā Maryam , informée à tort de la
mort du cheikh, en fut tellement éprouvée qu’elle fut incapable de se tenir
debout et resta longtemps paralysée. Quand le cheikh fut guéri et qu’on lui
85
rapporta son état, il fit le voyage jusqu’à [al-Minya] et demanda à ses compagnons qu’on tint secrète son arrivée car il voulait entrer chez elle par surprise. Quand il pénétra chez elle, on lui dit : voici le cheikh ! Dès qu’elle le
vit, elle se leva et alla à sa rencontre, en lui disant : ô maître, j’ai appris que
tu étais mort ; la douleur de la séparation m’a aussitôt mise dans cet état ; il
lui dit : ô Maryam, pour quelle raison aimes-tu celui qui est appelé à mou86
rir ? »
D’après un récit attribué à Umm ‘Abd al-Rahmān, cette dernière, priée
par le cheikh de se retirer dans une alcôve de la pièce, vit trois hommes, entrés de nulle part, s’entretenir longtemps avec al-Dahmānī ; dès qu’ils
l’eurent quitté, Umm ‘Abd al-Rahmān le questionna sur l’identité de ces
étranges visiteurs, le cheikh répondit : – ce sont des frères parmi les saints
apotropéens (ikhwānunā min al-abdāl), la priant de garder ce prodige, secret
87
(uktumī ‘annī) .
Ainsi, s’il fallait rapidement évaluer la place de ces récits transmis par
les épouses du cheikh et notamment par Hafsa, dans la construction de la
mémoire bio-hagiographique du saint, on peut dire que si plusieurs d’entre
88
eux appartiennent à la sphère « privée » du cheikh , ce qui est « conforme à
89
la place allouée aux femmes dans la société » , nombre de récits, notamment ceux transmis par Hafsa, débordent cette sphère : ils se rapportent à

83
84

85
86
87
88
89

eschatologiques dans l’hagiographie, voir N. Amri, Les saints en islam, op. cit,
pp. 174-198.
Sur les différents usages de ce mot, voir N. Amri, al-Walāya wa l-mujtama‘ [Sainteté
et société. Contribution à l’histoire religieuse et sociale de l’Ifrīqīya hafside], 2e éd.,
Beyrouth-Tunis, 2006, pp. 111-116 et 494-498.
Sur cette sainte, compagne spirituelle et disciple du cheikh, cf. Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, III,
pp. 221-223 et Mahmūd Maqdīsh, Nuzhat al-anzār fī ‘ajā’ib al-tawārīkh wa l-akhbār,
éd. A. Zouari et M. Mahfoudh, Beyrouth, Dār al-Gharb al-islāmī, 1988, pp. 293-296.
Voir infra, le paragraphe que nous consacrons à la relation de la sainte avec le
cheikh al-Dahmānī.
Village natal de la sainte situé sur la côte aux environs de Sfax.
Asrār, fol. 47a et b [212] ; le cheikh, par cette parole, vise à épurer l’attachement que
Maryam lui porte.
Asrār, fol. 46b [210].
Voir à ce sujet Manuela Marín, « Women and Sainthood in Medieval Morocco », in
Sofia Boesch Gajano et Enzo Pace, éd., Donne tra saperi e poteri nella storia delle religioni, Brescia, Morcelliana, 2007, pp. 287-288.
Ibid., p. 288.

362

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

des épisodes « publics » de la vie et de la carrière spirituelle du cheikh : tels
les événements au ribāt de Shaqānis ou encore la vie dans les ribāts du Sāhil,
l’éducation d’un compagnon à Gabès, le passage du cheikh à Tunis et la
crainte révérencielle qu’il inspire à un marchand de la capitale, la visite du
cheikh et de ses compagnons à al-Minya, la conversation dans la rue avec le
faqīh Ibn ‘Awāna, l’admonestation du cheikh concernant l’endettement, sa
conduite envers les pauvres durant le pèlerinage ; de même ils concernent
les relations de compagnonnage du cheikh notamment avec les deux grands
saints ifrīqiyens ‘Abd al-‘Azīz al-Mahdawī et al-Naftī, ou encore ses états
spirituels, ses propos de jactance à teneur eschatologique, son combat contre
la nafs et les plaisirs de ce monde, y compris, dans la relation périlleuse au
corps de la femme. Ce qui nous a frappé également, c’est le nombre important de propos du cheikh transmis par Hafsa (onze propos). Quant aux prodiges relayés par ces récits, il s’agit principalement de l’approvisionnement
miraculeux du saint et de sa famille, du don de claire-vue, de physiognomo90
nie et de « discernement des esprits » , l’une des karāmāt les plus réputées
du cheikh, à laquelle al-Dabbāgh consacre un chapitre (fīmā kūshifa min al91
ghuyūb wa atla‘ahu al-Haqq subhānahu ‘alayhi) , et qui occupe, à l’époque,
dans la structure générale des karāmāt attribués aux saints, une place de
plus en plus importante préfigurant l’émergence, vers la fin du Moyen Âge,
du saint visionnaire et inspiré, l’un des types majeurs dans la sainteté au
Maghreb. Bref, ces riwāyāt ne nous ont pas paru confinées dans des sphères
secondaires ou marginales dans l’itinéraire de saint du cheikh al-Dahmānī ;
bien au contraire, elles affectent des lieux centraux de celui-ci. La comparaison de ces anecdotes avec celles rapportées par les disciples ou encore les
fils du cheikh, ne montre guère de différence qualitative dans le contenu et
92
la nature de ces récits , si ce n’est que le théâtre de ces derniers est davantage « public » ici et « privé », là, même si la dimension publique, comme on
l’a vu, est loin d’être absente des récits rapportés par Hafsa. Enfin, la part
des récits de première main (vingt-deux) rapportés par les épouses du
90 Sur cette notion dans le monachisme chrétien (IV e-Ve siècle), le dioratikon « qui octroie au moine charismatique la faculté de lire aussi bien dans le cœur des hommes
en vertu du pouvoir de la discretio spirituum que dans le grand livre du cosmos et de
l’histoire », voir Giovanni Filoramo, « Le fondement de l’autorité charismatique
dans le monachisme chrétien (IVe-Ve siècles) : le discernement des esprits », in N.
Amri et D. Gril, éd., Saint et sainteté, pp. 37-54.
91 Asrār, fol. 32b-39a [185-194].
92 A titre d’exemple, les nombreuses anecdotes sur les prédictions du cheikh, ibid., et
Asrār fol. 39 b [196-7] ; fol. 50a [197] ; 50a [198] etc.

363

NELLY AMRI

cheikh et notamment Hafsa, l’emporte de loin sur les récits indirects (quatre
au total). Par leur nombre et la grande variété de thèmes aussi bien bio-hagiographiques qu’hagiologiques, les récits rapportés par Hafsa dénotent une
vraie complicité du cheikh avec son épouse, y compris sur le plan spirituel.
Examinons, à présent, à partir de ces récits et des anecdotes rapportées
par les fils d’al-Dahmānī, le portrait qui se dégage du saint dans sa famille,
comme époux et comme père, portrait censé reproduire et imiter une conduite archétypale, celle que la Tradition attribue au Prophète dans sa vie
conjugale et dans sa maisonnée.

Le saint dans sa famille
Si la documentation est parcimonieuse quant à l’enfance du saint et ses relations avec ses parents et frères, comme le montrent les anecdotes ci-dessous
par lesquelles nous inaugurons notre propos sur le portrait du saint dans sa
famille, par contre, nombreux sont les récits sur la vie conjugale du cheikh
ainsi que sur son compagnonnage spirituel avec Umm Yahyā Maryam, et sur
sa figure de père charnel et spirituel par laquelle nous clôturons notre propos.

Le saint comme fils
L’hagiographie est très laconique en la matière ; seul nous est rapporté ce
propos du cheikh sur la conduite de son père à son égard : « mon père ayant
entendu dire que quiconque refuse quelque chose à son père, ira en enfer,
s’abstenait, par amour pour moi, de m’envoyer faire une commission, de
peur que je ne refuse, [ce qui l’exposerait au châtiment éternel] ; il me dit :
‘j’ai pris un engagement avec Dieu de ne rien te demander de ce qui me reviendrait de droit ici-bas et dans l’au-delà’ ; il invoqua Dieu : ‘Seigneur,
93
puisse le droit que j’ai sur mon fils Ya‘qūb être une aumône pour lui’ » .

Le saint comme frère
C’est un frère, dont les saintes vertus apparaissent précocement, qui est
plein de compassion, magnanime et généreux, se faisant volontiers éducateur, que les quatre anecdotes qui suivent, mettent en scène.
Abū ‘Īsā Zayd al-Dahmānī, le frère du cheikh, rapporte : « mon père me
raconta que lorsque mon frère Ya‘qūb était à l’école coranique (al-kuttāb), et
bien qu’il ne soit encore qu’un enfant, il ne finissait jamais le pain qu’on lui
93 Asrār, fol. 2b [132] ; cette anecdote est reprise au fol. 80a [253-4].

364

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

donnait ; il n’en mangeait que la mie et laissait le reste. Nous avons vu cela
de nos propres yeux : on lui donnait un pain pour son dîner, il n’en consommait que la partie supérieure, laissant la partie inférieure ; ceci est conforme
à ce qu’on rapporte sur le Prophète qui ne mangea jamais à satiété ; le
cheikh, sa vie durant, ne mangea jamais jusqu’à se rassasier, du pain de fro94
ment » .
Abū ‘Alī Yūnus, le fils du cheikh, rapporte un propos de celui-ci sur sa
conduite à l’égard de ses frères dont il était le cadet : « lorsque je me repentis, je préférais me consacrer à mes exercices de dévotion plutôt qu’à toute
autre occupation ; une année, [mes frères] me chargèrent de labourer pour
eux, ce que je fis […], je jeûnais le jour et ne rompais mon jeûne qu’avec très
peu de nourriture ; je ne m’autorisais aucune négligence dans les droits de
Dieu et eux ne m’excusaient aucune distraction du service que je leur devais
jusqu’à ce que j’eusse terminé les labours ». « Je tenais, raconte-t-il également, à ce que mes frères s’acquittassent de leurs prières à leurs heures respectives ; la plupart du temps, lorsque je voulais réveiller mon frère Abū
Hilāl pour faire le subh, je lui réchauffai de l’eau [pour ses ablutions] et si
par la grâce de Dieu je trouvai un peu de pain émietté ou une sucrerie, je lui
en donnai afin de l’amadouer et qu’il acceptât de se lever pour faire la
95
prière » .
Nous avons déjà évoqué cette anecdote rapportée par Hafsa, l’épouse du
cheikh, sur le comportement de ce dernier lorsqu’il vit un jour ce même
frère Abū Hilāl, victime d’une agression, et le vœu secret qu’il avait nourri
de voler à son secours.

Le saint comme époux
A l’image du Prophète qui « fait du mariage sa Sunna, donc l’une des voies
96
d’accès à Dieu » , le cheikh est non seulement marié mais il nous est montré favorisant un certain nombre d’unions au sein de sa parenté et chez ses
disciples, sa préférence étant pour le cousinage proche et le mariage endo97
game . On sait qu’à sa mort, en 621/1224, à l’âge de soixante-douze ans, le
cheikh avait quatre épouses et quatorze enfants : dix garçons et quatre
94 Asrār, fol. 80b-81a [254].
95 Asrār, fol. 86b-87a [259-260].
96 Denis Gril, « Le corps du Prophète », in Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen et Bernard Heyberger, éd., Le corps et le sacré en Orient musulman, Revue des Mondes musulmans et
de la Méditerranée, 113-114, 2006, p. 55.
97 Asrār, fol. 23b [169], 53b [222], 54a [223], 57b-58a [229-230].

365

NELLY AMRI
98

filles . Un Bédouin des Riahides qui, ayant l’intention de prendre une
deuxième femme, demanda conseil au cheikh, se voit mis en garde de
prendre exemple sur lui : « patiente jusqu’à ce que tu les traites conformé99
ment à la prescription divine (al-amr) comme je le fais moi » ; le texte référant en toute vraisemblance au verset coranique 4, 129 « Vous ne pourrez
pas être équitables envers les femmes, même si vous le désiriez. Ne penchez
donc pas totalement vers l’une, vous laisseriez l’autre comme suspendue ».
L’hagiographe éprouve-t-il le besoin de justifier le fait que le saint ait pris
quatre épouses, ce qui ne semble être ni une pratique courante dans la ‘āmma à l’époque, ni même une conduite recommandable, même si elle est li cite, eu égard à la difficulté matérielle de subvenir équitablement à leurs be100
soins ? Il est permis de le supposer : sa sainteté, son scrupule et son respect des prescriptions divines en la matière sont autant d’arguments plaidant… contre l’imitation de son exemple par le commun. Une autorisation
surnaturelle fut donnée au Prophète (Coran 33, 50) pour dépasser le nombre
101
légal d’épouses permis par la Loi .
Umm Yūsuf, « l’originaire de Sousse » (al-Sūsiyya) fut la première
102
épouse du cheikh, au témoignage d’Umm Yahyā Maryam , et celle qui l’a
accompagné durant sa période de mujāhada (retraite pieuse, notamment
dans les ribāt côtiers à Shaqānis et Monastir). C’est l’étape de la vie du
cheikh sur laquelle elle fut sollicitée pour témoigner comme on l’a vu (had103
dithnā bi-mā ra’ayti min ayyām mujāhadat al-shaykh) , signe qu’elle était,
à cette époque, sa seule épouse. Là encore, on ignore à quel âge le cheikh se
maria et combien d’années il vécut avec Umm Yūsuf sans autre coépouse ;
en tout cas, tel devait être le cas quand eut lieu la rencontre entre le cheikh
104
et Umm Yahyā . Des récits, remontant aux débuts d’al-Dahmānī, à une pé98 Asrār, fol. 59b-60a [233].
99 Asrār, fol. 18a [159].
100 Sur les pratiques matrimoniales en Ifrīqīya à l’époque hafside, voir M. Rouis, al-Zawāj fī l-‘ahd al-hafsī, Thèse de Doctorat, Faculté des Sciences Humaines et Sociales
de Tunis, 1998-9.
101 A sa mort, le Prophète laissait neuf veuves.
102 Asrār, fol. 33b-34a [187] et 81b-82a [255].
103 Asrār, fol. 40b [200].
104 Cette première rencontre a lieu, si l’on suit l’économie du récit (Asrār, fol. 34a [187],
lorsque le cheikh était encore à Mahdiyya et après son retour de chez Abū Madyan
(avant 590/1194) ; probablement entre son retour de Bijāya et son départ pour
l’Orient en 595/1199 où seule Umm Yūsuf l’accompagna, signe probablement qu’elle
était encore à l’époque sa seule épouse ; même si l’on sait par ailleurs que le cheikh
s’établit quelque temps à Mahdiyya après son retour du pèlerinage (Asrār, fol. 4b
[136]) et son installation définitive à Kairouan jusqu’à la fin de ses jours, ibid.

366

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

riode où semble-t-il les dons étaient encore plutôt rares et modestes, nous la
105
montrent vivant seule en compagnie du cheikh , ce qui accréditerait l’idée
d’une assez longue cohabitation avec lui en qualité d’épouse unique ; certaines anecdotes, rapportées d’ailleurs par Umm ‘Umar, montrent la préséance d’Umm Yūsuf dans les affaires de la Maison du cheikh, comme ce ré106
cit où elle demande au cheikh de prendre une servante . Umm Yūsuf est issue d’une lignée prestigieuse (celle-ci n’est pas précisée) ; elle est louée par
son saint époux pour sa vertu, sa beauté, l’excellence et l’ancienneté de sa
107
dévotion et de ses prodiges (wa taqaddama lahā ‘ibādatun wa karāmāt) .
Sont aussi exaltées son endurance aux côtés du cheikh au début de son itinéraire face à l’indigence, et sa longanimité devant la générosité excessive de
son mari. Ce dernier trait dans son comportement la distinguait des autres
épouses du cheikh y compris de Hafsa. Umm Yūsuf n’est pas sans rappeler
l’image qu’a gardée la Sīra de Khadīja, la première épouse du Prophète ;
celle-ci, surnommée Khayr al-nisā’ (la « Meilleure des femmes »), fut longtemps chérie, même bien après sa mort survenue en 619 après plus de vingtcinq ans de mariage, au cours desquels, le Prophète n’épousa pas d’autre
108
femme ; d’ailleurs al-Dabbāgh évoque, certes dans un autre contexte, au
titre des vertus du cheikh, « son respect des droits de l’amitié », y compris
après la mort, et le mimétisme avec la conduite du Prophète à l’égard des
109
anciennes amies de sa première épouse Khadīja .
Cette réputation de sainteté antérieure, semble-t-il, au mariage d’Umm
Yūsuf avec le cheikh, permet peut-être de penser que celle-ci devait être une
femme d’âge mûr quand elle épousa al-Dahmānī – autre trait commun avec
Khadīja –, contrairement à Umm ‘Umar ainsi que l’accrédite une anecdote
110
des Asrār . On ne peut que formuler des hypothèses. Le cheikh nous est
montré prenant la défense d’Umm Yūsuf, critiquée par Umm Yahyā Maryam
pour avoir demandé à son époux de charger Abū Zakariyyā’ b. Hanās, com 105
106
107
108
109

Comme dans Asrār, fol. 11a et b [148-9].
Asrār, fol. 39a [196].
Asrār, fol. 82a [255].
Voir M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, pp. 69-74.
Asrār, fol. 113b-114a [286-7]. La Tradition, notamment Bukhārī, attribue ce propos à
‘Ā’isha : « Je n’étais jalouse d’aucune des épouses du Prophète autant que je l’étais
de Khadīja, car il la mentionnait constamment […] Et chaque fois qu’il sacrifiait un
mouton, il en faisait porter une bonne portion à ceux qui avaient été de ses intimes.
Souvent, je lui ai dit : ‘C’est comme s’il n’avait jamais existé au monde d’autre
femme que Khadija’ », M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, pp. 443-444. Voir également A. Schimmel, L’islam au féminin, op. cit., pp. 30-31.
110 Voir infra.

367

NELLY AMRI

pagnon et serviteur du cheikh, de leur réparer une conduite d’eau (probablement des eaux usagées) ce qui a paru à la sainte d’al-Minya comme un manquement évident à la hurma (respect, inviolabilité) des mashāyikh, d’autant
plus qu’elle avait eu, par une vision onirique, un dévoilement de la sainteté
du cheikh Ibn Hanās, et qu’elle reçut l’ordre de le servir : « Ô Maryam, lui
dit al-Dahmānī, sois clémente avec elle, car ce qui t’a été dévoilé, ne lui est
111
pas parvenu » .
112
113
Lorsque le cheikh se rend au pèlerinage en 595/1199 , âgé de 45 ans ,
114
après son retour de chez le cheikh Abū Madyan , il est accompagné de son
épouse Umm Yūsuf et de ses quatre enfants : Muhammad, Ahmad, ‘Ā’isha et
115
Maryam . D’ailleurs elle sera appelée à témoigner de la véracité d’une
karāma du cheikh à Jedda, d’où il disparut de manière surnaturelle et fut re116
trouvé à ‘Arafāt, à La Mecque . Nous avons émis l’hypothèse que probablement elle était encore son unique épouse à ce moment-là, l’union du cheikh
avec Umm ‘Umar (Hafsa) n’ayant vraisemblablement été contractée
qu’après le retour du cheikh à Mahdiyya, où elle apparaît à ses côtés dans
117
certains récits, et avant son installation définitive à Kairouan ; installation,
rapporte al-Dabbāgh, motivée par les craintes que nourrissait le cheikh pour
ses enfants et leur « credo sunnite » face au « pluralisme confessionnel » de
118
l’Égypte où il avait été tenté, comme nombre de Maghrébins, de demeurer .
Quant aux enfants qui l’auraient accompagné au hajj, un flou semble planer
sur leur nombre et leur identité : une autre copie des Manāqib ne cite pas les
quatre enfants susmentionnés mais uniquement Yūsuf, le fils aîné du
119
cheikh , dont, en effet, l’absence ici nous a interpellés. Il est difficile, dans
111 Asrār, fol. 34a [187].
112 Asrār, fol. 4a [135] ; très exactement durant le mois de Shawwāl (juillet-août 1199) ;
deux mois plus tard, il était à La Mecque, ibid.
113 D’après al-Dabbāgh (Asrār, fol. 59b-60a [233]), le cheikh serait mort le 10 Muharram
de l’année 621 (le 2 février 1224) à l’âge de 72 ans, ce qui le ferait naître en 549/11541155.
114 Asrār, fol. 107a [280].
115 Asrār, fol. 4b [135].
116 Asrār, fol. 57b [229].
117 Si cette hypothèse se vérifie, Hafsa aurait vécu auprès du cheikh 25 ans, étant entendu que son retour du pèlerinage se situe v. 596/1199. Mais ce ne sont là qu’hypothèses, l’hagiographie ne permettant pas de suivre de manière précise la chronologie
du cheikh.
118 Asrār, fol. 111b-112a [285]. En fait, il aurait même pensé s’installer à Gabès, n’eût été
la vision, lors d’une istikhāra, d’une « colonne de lumière qui s’éleva pour lui entre
Monastir et Kairouan et d’une voix lui annonçant que c’est dans ces régions que se
trouve sa descendance », Asrār, fol. 4b [136].
119 Asrār, Ed. p. 135, n. 42.

368

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

l’état actuel de nos connaissances, de trancher ; en tout cas, nul ostracisme
ne semble peser sur les fillettes qui, comme leurs frères, sont aussi du
voyage.
Hafsa Umm ‘Umar fut en toute vraisemblance la deuxième femme d’Abū
Yūsuf ; elle fait partie de sa maisonnée déjà à Haybūn, près de Mahdiyya.
Quant à ses deux autres épouses, il s’agit respectivement de Umm ‘Abd alRahmān, sa troisième femme, citée nommément deux fois dans son hagio120
graphie ; et Na‘īma, la fille de son compagnon et serviteur Abū Zakariyyā’
Ibn Hanās, désignée par son prénom, laquelle fut la dernière épousée. En effet, elle convola en justes noces avec le cheikh à la fin de sa vie, et n’eut pas
121
d’enfants de lui ; au crédit de cette hypothèse, ce propos attribué au
cheikh parlant d’un homme venu le saluer et lui demander d’invoquer Dieu
pour lui : « cet homme épousera ma femme Na‘īma bt Abī Zakariyyā’ b.
Hanās après ma mort ; quand le cheikh mourut, cet homme épousa Na‘īma
122
et mourut avant elle » .
Nulle part, le mariage du cheikh avec une nouvelle épouse n’est évoqué,
encore moins ce que cet événement pouvait susciter, à l’instar de ce que rap123
porte la Sīra de la maisonnée du Prophète, comme jalousies à l’égard de la
nouvelle épouse, bref, un climat de rivalité que les auteurs ont plus d’une
124
fois souligné . L’hagiographie est plutôt silencieuse sur les rapports entre
125
les coépouses accréditant même l’idée d’une certaine entente . Les Manāqib n’évoquent nulle part la conduite du cheikh en matière d’union conju126
gale avec ses épouses . En tout cas, la relation du cheikh à son épouse Hafsa n’est pas sans rappeler celle du Prophète avec son épouse ‘Ā’isha, même
si l’hagiographie n’est pas aussi prolixe ni aussi explicite sur la réalité des
sentiments que nourrissait le cheikh à l’endroit de cette épouse, que l’est la
120
121
122
123

Asrār, fol. 46b [210] et 58a [230].
Cf. le récit Asrār, fol. 97a et b [270].
Asrār, fol. 54b-55a [224].
Sur la jalousie de ‘Ā’isha, notamment à l’égard de Safiyya la nouvelle coépouse du
Prophète, voir M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, pp. 441-444 et sur celle qu’elle suscitait chez les autres épouses du Prophète, ibid., pp. 444-446.
124 Voir notamment M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, p. 556 ; néanmoins, lorsque
‘Ā’isha sera victime d’une campagne de calomnies (dans « l’affaire du collier »), la
Sīra montre les autres coépouses la défendant et parlant en sa faveur, op. cit., p. 400.
125 Voir le récit attribué à Umm ‘Umar et dans lequel elle rapporte les propos du cheikh,
cités ci-dessus, louant la beauté, le rang, la piété et les prodiges d’Umm Yūsuf (kāna
lahā hasabun wa jamāl wa taqaddama lahā ‘ibādatun wa karāmāt), Asrār, fol. 82a
[255].
126 Sur la conduite que la Tradition attribue au Prophète en la matière, cf. D. Gril, « Le
corps du Prophète », p. 43.

369

NELLY AMRI
127

Sīra concernant la préférence attribuée au Prophète pour ‘Ā’isha . L’hagiographie d’al-Dahmānī laisse entrevoir une intimité, une complicité et une liberté dans les rapports entre le cheikh et cette épouse ; dans la conduite de
Hafsa, le caractère ingénu, un tantinet frondeur, avec le cheikh, qu’explique
ou peut-être excuse sa jeunesse (ne l’appelle-t-il pas dans une anecdote
128
« fillette » ?) évoque l’image que donne la Sīra de ‘Ā’isha . Elle est montrée, selon son propre témoignage, cité ci-dessus, faisant des remontrances
au cheikh pour une sadaqa qu’il avait faite du mouton de l’Aïd, mouton, insiste-t-elle, qui lui était destiné (wa kānat lī na‘ja li l-udhiya) et le tirant vigoureusement par sa tunique ; a contrario, la Tradition évoque la charité,
donnée comme mémorable, de ‘Ā’isha, trait d’ailleurs qu’elle partageait avec
129
d’autres épouses du Prophète, notamment Sawda et Zaynab bint Jahsh . Le
cheikh prend la colère de sa femme avec humour et rit de sa réaction ; là en130
core, le parallèle avec les récits de la Sīra peut être esquissé ; l’hagiographe
attribue à Hafsa un propos selon lequel le cheikh aurait beaucoup enduré du
131
comportement passé de son épouse en la matière . Al-Dabbāgh sacrifie-t-il
132
ici à un topos de l’hagiographie aussi bien en Ifrīqīya que dans le reste du
Maghreb ?
Ce récit est à comparer avec celui qui met en scène, pratiquement dans
le même contexte et pour les mêmes raisons, Umm Yūsuf, la première
épouse du cheikh, qui nous est montrée comme un modèle de piété, de longanimité et d’agrément, face à la conduite du cheikh et à ses gestes de charité ; elle acquiesce, à trois reprises, le jour de l’Aïd [al-Adhā], et malgré leur
profonde indigence, à l’aumône faite par le saint du mouton ou de la viande
que lui-même venait de recevoir, ne lui laissant, après qu’elle l’ait faite cuire,
qu’une infime part de bouillon : « pauvre Umm Yūsuf, avait-il coutume de
127 Cette préférence n’infirmant pas la parfaite équité et la justice que la Sīra attribue au
Prophète dans ses devoirs conjugaux avec ses épouses ; à chacune desquelles était
attribué un jour particulier. Cf. M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, p. 444 sur l’épisode de la « cession » par Sawda de « son jour » à ‘Ā’isha.
128 Voir M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad ; toutes les occurrences concernant ‘Ā’isha,
dans l’index, p. 573.
129 Voir M. Marín, « Exemplary women in Early Islam », op. cit.
130 Voir M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, pp. 442-443.
131 Asrār, fol. 91a et b [264].
132 M. Marín, « Exemplary Women in Early Islam ». Tout en sachant que la figure inverse a existé, et ce, dès la haute époque : des époux de sūfiyyāt réfractaires à la
générosité de leurs saintes épouses, ibid. Ces exemples sont puisés dans la section
féminine des Tabaqāt al-Sūfiyya de Sulamī (Dhikr al-niswa al-muta‘abbidāt, alsūfiyyāt, éd. et traduites par Rkia Elaroui Cornell, Early Sufi women, Louisville, Fons
Vitae, 1999).

370

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE
133

dire, elle endurait beaucoup de ma conduite en la matière ! » . Il faut dire
que le comportement attribué à Umm Yūsuf ne fut pas toujours aussi magnanime : elle nous est montrée « discutant » avec le cheikh (tunāzi‘uhu)
alors que lui, gardait le silence, lors d’une halte à Barqa à leur retour
d’Orient, lorsque celui-ci avait donné en aumône aux pauvres le peu de victuailles qui leur restaient : « puisses-tu être rétribué dans tes enfants, car ils
sont prioritaires », lui dit-elle ; le saint se retira, préoccupé par ces propos,
fit ses ablutions et se tourna vers la qibla comme il avait coutume de le faire
en pareil cas ; il vit aussitôt arriver deux djinns croyants (min mu’minī aljinn) qui l’assurèrent que ses provisions lui suffiraient jusqu’à leur arrivée,
qu’il fasse ou non aumône, à charge pour lui de dire : « Mon Dieu, je
cherche refuge en Toi contre le doute, l’associationnisme et l’incertitude (al134
shakk wa l-shirk wa l-shakak) » .
La conduite décrite ci-dessus de Hafsa nous est présentée comme un
comportement de jeunesse ; l’hagiographie évoquant par ailleurs le parfait
accord existant entre le saint et son épouse Hafsa dans la conduite à adopter
à l’égard des gouverneurs et de leurs présents dont le cheikh faisait entièrement dépense, n’en gardant rien pour lui, ni n’en consommant rien : « son
épouse Hafsa acquiesçait à son comportement et ne mangeait rien de ce qui
135
leur était offert [de la part d’un gouverneur] » .
C’est Hafsa Umm ‘Umar que l’on retrouve au chevet du cheikh en
611/1214, à Kairouan, lorsqu’il fut gravement malade à telle enseigne qu’on
136
crut à une mort imminente ; cette scène n’est pas sans évoquer pour nous
les derniers jours du Prophète dans l’appartement de ‘Ā’isha, étendu, sa tête
137
reposant tantôt sur la poitrine de celle-ci, tantôt sur son giron .
Quant aux modalités de la cohabitation du cheikh avec ses quatre
épouses, il semblerait qu’il faille distinguer deux étapes : la première antérieure à l’installation définitive du cheikh à Kairouan, après son retour du
pèlerinage, étape où tout porte à croire que les épouses du cheikh cohabitaient dans la même demeure, comme tendent à l’accréditer certains récits
138
relatifs à son séjour à Zawīla et Haybūn, dans la région de Mahdiyya . Il
est probable qu’à l’époque, le cheikh ne devait avoir que deux femmes, en
l’occurrence Umm Yūsuf et Hafsa, ce qui ne sera plus le cas à Kairouan. Les
133
134
135
136
137
138

Asrār, fol. 12b [150-1].
Asrār, fol. 39b-40a [198-9].
Asrār, fol. 93a [266].
Asrār, fol. 59a [231]
M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, pp. 555-557.
Asrār, fol. 13a [151-2], 39a [196] et 41a [201].

371

NELLY AMRI

récits relatifs à la période kairouanaise, notamment les anecdotes rapportées
par l’intendant du cheikh, évoquent plutôt des demeures séparées. En effet,
chacune des épouses du cheikh semble avoir sa propre « demeure » (dār) ; le
139
saint se déplaçant de l’une à l’autre , comme dans ce récit attribué à Abū
‘Alī Hasan al-Lwātī, l’intendant du cheikh, qui nous est montré se dirigeant
spontanément vers l’appartement de Umm ‘Umar [Hafsa] afin de remettre
au cheikh une douceur achetée pour lui, pour s’entendre dire par l’épouse :
140
« le cheikh est allé chez Umm Yūsuf » (kharaja li-dār Umm Yūsuf) .
D’ailleurs, ces deux modèles rejoignent les habitudes de l’époque et les spécificités de l’habitat en milieu urbain et en milieu rural : la cohabitation des
coépouses, dans une seule maison, se rencontrait davantage chez les ruraux,
alors que dans l’espace urbain, il était d’usage d’allouer aux épouses des de141
meures indépendantes . Néanmoins, la terminologie employée par nos documents maintient le flou : le même al-Lwātī raconte qu’il fit un jour, en
compagnie du cheikh, à leur sortie de la mosquée (à Kairouan), le tour des
buyūt (en dialecte local « pièces » mais peut aussi bien vouloir dire « appar142
tements ») de ses épouses .

Le dénuement du cheikh et des gens de sa maison
Il ressort de l’hagiographie que le cheikh eut quelque difficulté à assumer
pleinement les lourdes charges financières qu’impliquait l’entretien de
quatre familles ou encore de quatre foyers, puisqu’à partir d’une certaine
époque, il semble qu’à chacune des femmes était allouée une demeure
143
(dār) , et la parfaite équité que lui imposait la Loi envers elles, notamment
sur le plan financier. Cela sans parler du nombre, somme toute élevé, des
enfants que le cheikh avait à sa charge. Un faqīh vint le trouver à la fin de sa
vie lui reprochant son laisser aller concernant sa subsistance (lā taktarith
139 « Il sortit ; en chemin, il me dit… » (fakharaja, falammā kāna fī l-tarīq, qāla lī…), Asrār, fol. 18b [161. Voir aussi Asrār, fol. 15a [155] où des dattes offertes par un visiteur
furent partagées à égalité entre les « maisons » du cheikh (wa qassamtuhu ‘alā
diyārihi bi l-taswiya).
140 Asrār, fol. 18b [161].
141 Voir M. Hasan, al-Madīna wa l-bādiya bi-Ifrīqīya fī l-‘ahd al-hafsī, Tunis, Faculté des
Sciences Humaines et Sociales, Série Histoire, vol. XXXII, 1999, t. II, p. 795.
142 Asrār, fol. 98b [271]. Pour désigner les logements réservés aux femmes du Prophète à
Médine on employait les termes de hujurāt ou manāzil [appelées parfois buyūt cf. F.
Mernissi, Le Harem politique, p. 136] ; ces dernières étaient toutes adossées au mur
de la mosquée ou encore la jouxtaient. Voir M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, p. 219
(pour les « appartements » de Sawdā et de ‘Ā’isha, et p. 276 pour celui de Hafsa.
143 Voir supra.

372

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

nafsuka fī qūt), alors qu’il était âgé, aveugle et avait à sa charge quatre
épouses ayant sur lui des droits reconnus et l’encouragea vivement à trouver un moyen propre de subsistance (fa-‘asā yakūn laka qūt takhtassu bihi).
144
Son fils aîné Yūsuf aussi était de cet avis et avait même été jusqu’à jurer
par Dieu que telle devrait être la conduite de son père.
Ainsi dans la vie quotidienne du cheikh et de ses quatre femmes, alDabbāgh évoque l’extrême dénuement dans lequel vivait la petite communauté. Dans le même récit cité ci-dessus, le tour effectué par le saint et son
intendant des différents « appartements » de ses femmes, est fait dans le
seul but de montrer qu’elles n’avaient rien à manger et d’exalter la pauvreté
du saint (hādha huwa al-faqr) qui pouvait rester parfois deux jours sans rien
145
avaler, jusqu’à ce que son palais en fût littéralement desséché . On retrouve ici en filigrane, la Sīra : « avant Khaybar, le Prophète et les siens
avaient vécu de la façon la plus frugale. ‘Ā’isha avait rapporté […] qu’elle ne
savait pas ce que c’était que de manger des dattes jusqu’à en être rassasiée.
La pauvreté de ceux, toujours plus nombreux, qui tombaient à la charge de
la maison du Prophète était telle que ses épouses ne lui demandaient que ce
qui leur était strictement nécessaire, et encore. Les choses dont on pouvait
se passer étaient soient distribuées, soit vendues, et le produit de leur vente
146
était dispensé en aumônes » .
Abū ‘Alī ‘Umar, le fils du cheikh, rapporte : « si le cheikh recevait une
aumône (al-zakāt), il n’en consommait rien, ni pour lui ni pour les gens de
147
sa maisonnée [il en faisait entièrement dépense pour les fuqarā’] ; par
contre si un don lui était fait, il en donnait le cinquième aux fuqarā’ et partageait le reste entre ses épouses et ses enfants, ne gardant rien pour lui ; il ne
148
se couchait jamais avant de s’être départi de tout » . Un propos attribué à
Umm Yahyā Maryam, sur la conduite du cheikh à Mahdiyya, évoque la pratique « économique » de ce dernier, réfractaire à toute accumulation : « si,
par la grâce divine, le cheikh et les siens recevaient quelque chose avant le
coucher du soleil, le cheikh le distribuait en totalité ; par contre, pour les
futūh faits après le maghrib, il en gardait juste de quoi rassasier les présents
144
145
146
147

Asrār, fol. 97b [270].
Asrār, fol. 98b [271].
M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, p. 450.
Comme il est précisé au fol. 16a [156] ; les fuqarā’ (pl. de faqīr) (littéralement les
pauvres en Dieu) sont les disciples ou novices du cheikh, qui généralement habitent
la zāwiya et dont il a la charge, spirituellement et matériellement. Le même récit
figure au fol. 97a et b [270].
148 Asrār, fol. 14b [153-4].

373

NELLY AMRI

et le reste était distribué ; il ne se couchait jamais en ayant quelque bien
sous son toit. Un jour, un mendiant frappa à sa porte, le cheikh se trouva
dans l’embarras car il n’y avait rien à lui donner ; il dit alors à son épouse :
auriez-vous un brasero ou un pot à donner à ce mendiant qu’il puisse
149
vendre et profiter de son prix ? » Al-Dabbāgh lui attribue ce propos :
« l’aumône est interdite à la Famille de Muhammad (Āl Muhammad), et
nous sommes la famille de Muhammad […], on accepte le présent mais on
150
ne consomme pas l’aumône (al-sadaqa) » . Un autre récit insiste encore sur
cette pratique du cheikh, en parfaite conformité avec le texte coranique et la
Sunna prophétique, enjoignant à l’un de ses disciples venu lui remettre une
bourse contenant 10 dinars de la partager en cinq parts égales : une part fut
donnée au disciple en aumône, trois parts furent distribuées aux trois
épouses du cheikh (ce qui indique qu’à ce moment-là, il n’avait pas encore
pris Na‘īma comme épouse) et la dernière fut envoyée pour s’acquitter d’une
151
dette contractée par l’un des compagnons du cheikh .
Un autre récit confirme ce souci de parfaite équité du saint vis-à-vis de
ses épouses : quand il recevait un présent (hadiyya), il le partageait en cinq
parts égales : un cinquième était consacré aux fuqarā’ ; trois cinquièmes
étaient consacrés à ses trois épouses (Umm Yūsuf, Umm ‘Umar et Umm
‘Abd al-Rahmān) et à leurs enfants, en fonction du nombre de ces derniers ;
restait le dernier quint dont il remettait une part à sa quatrième épouse
(Na‘īma) qui n’avait pas d’enfants et il se réservait l’autre part ; en fait, il la
distribuait en aumônes aux pauvres, aux veuves et aux orphelins, ne gardant
152
jamais rien pour lui .
Tel est le tableau, qu’au fil des anecdotes, l’hagiographe dresse de l’univers domestique du cheikh al-Dahmānī et de ses rapports avec ses épouses,
rapports qui se placent dans une filiation spirituelle avec le modèle par excellence de la vie familiale : celui incarné par le Prophète Muhammad avec
les gens de sa maisonnée ; un modèle dans lequel le dénuement matériel et
le souci d’une parfaite équité entre les coépouses, maintes fois exalté par la
Sīra, est très présent ici. Qu’en est-il à présent du rapport au corps de la
femme, qu’elle soit épouse ou non, siège, dans les représentations de
l’époque, des tentations contre lesquelles l’homme de Dieu nous est montré
en lutte constante ?
149
150
151
152

Asrār, fol. 12a [150].
Asrār, fol. 92b [265].
Asrār, fol. 22a [166].
Asrār, fol. 97a et b [270].

374

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

Le saint et le corps des femmes à l’aune du modèle
prophétique : hagiographie et hagiologie
Denis Gril soulevait il y a quelques années la question du « double discours
sur la sainteté » : celui de la littérature hagiographique et celui de la production doctrinale sur les voies d’accès à la sainteté. Tout en mettant en garde
contre une approche « essentialiste » de la question et en signalant l’interpénétration constante entre ces « deux formes d’expression du discours du
soufisme sur lui-même », il conclut à la pertinence d’une telle approche justifiée par le fait que « ces deux types de textes, ne visent pas toujours le
153
même but, ni le même public » . Les Asrār, où s’interpénètrent matériaux
hagiographiques et matériaux hagiologiques avec une prédominance des
premiers, et le Mashāriq anwār al-qulūb, plus nettement hagiologique, et attribué au même auteur, confirment, comme on le verra ci-dessous, la justesse de ces vues ; de même, une lecture conjointe de ces deux textes permet
d’élucider la contradiction apparente entre les deux formes de discours
constatée ici et là.
Nous avons déjà évoqué la vision attribuée au cheikh Abū Yūsuf le soir
de ses noces avec sa première épouse Umm Yūsuf : « quand j’ai épousé ma
femme originaire de Sousse (al-sūsiyya), le soir de mes noces, dès que j’ai
porté les yeux sur son visage, celui-ci prit pour moi l’aspect d’un crâne et
154
d’un vieux squelette ; j’y occupai longtemps mon esprit » ; al-Dabbāgh fait
suivre cette vision d’une tradition prophétique : « ô Envoyé de Dieu, qui
sont les Amis de Dieu sur qui nulle peur ne pèse et qui ne seront pas affligés
(du verset 10, 62-64) ; il dit : ceux qui regardent la réalité intérieure (bātin)
du monde quand les gens regardent son apparence extérieure (zāhiruhā) et
qui s’occupent de l’autre monde quand les gens s’occupent de ce basmonde ; ils tuent de ce dernier ce qu’ils craignent qu’il ne les tue et ils dé155
laissent ce qu’ils savent qu’il les délaissera… » ; puis il évoque l’histoire de
Mūsā et Hārūn (Moïse et Aaron) avec Pharaon, faisant référence au verset
« Ne porte pas tes regards vers les jouissances éphémères… » (Coran,
153 D. Gril, « Le saint et le maître », pp. 57-58. On peut, à ce titre, comparer entre les Asrār et le Mashāriq, notamment la section IV « Du sens de la beauté et de la perfection », pp. 39-51, où l’on trouve des propos rejoignant les positions doctrinales
classiques des maîtres du tasawwuf – dont certaines parmi les plus audacieuses,
notamment celles attribuées à Hallāj, Bistāmī, Ibn ‘Arabī – sur l’amour divin, les
catégories des amants, les stations des gnostiques en proie au shawq, les demeures
de ceux qui atteignent l’union et la contemplation, etc.
154 Asrār, fol. 81b-82a [255].
155 Jusqu’à la fin du hadith, Asrār, fol. 82b [256].

375

NELLY AMRI

20, 131) ; « Dieu, dit-on, révéla à Mūsā et Hārūn : Je vous préserve de cette
vie d’ici-bas comme le pasteur compatissant préserve son troupeau des prairies où il peut périr, afin que vous suiviez la voie de mes serviteurs al-sālihīn
qui regardent la réalité intérieure de ce monde quand les autres ne regardent
que son apparence extérieure et qui agissent pour les Fins dernières (ājilihā)
quand les gens agissent pour ce bas-monde (‘ājilihā) […] ils refusent ce
monde et sont heureux de ce refus, ils le vendent et cette vente leur est bénéfique […] suivez donc la voie des itinérants qui ne se laissent guère divertir de moi ni par les grâces ni par les malheurs » et l’auteur de conclure :
« tel est l’état des élus : ils regardent toute chose par les réalités de ses fins
dernières (haqā’iq ‘awāqibihā) et regardent ses réalités spirituelles
(ma‘ānīhā) dans leur apparence extérieure, sous une forme qui leur est ins156
pirée de Dieu et par leur œil intérieur (basīra) » . Ainsi, nous est livrée la
clé de l’interprétation de cette anecdote rapportée par Hafsa : c’est toute une
anthropologie du regard qui se dévoile, éclairée par une éthique du renoncement, un « renoncement radical à ce monde » que l’auteur rattache aux modèles prophétiques et à l’histoire sainte. N’était-ce pas d’ailleurs ce qu’ensei157
gnait Abū Madyan , le maître d’al-Dahmānī ?
Une autre figure, inverse de celle-ci, se rencontre dans la littérature soufie, celle du « pouvoir enivrant de l’amour expérimenté par le mystique dans
sa contemplation de la beauté divine révélée sous la forme humaine »,
l’exemple le plus célèbre étant celui de la femme de Putiphar de la sourate
158
12 (Yūsuf) . Dans son Mashāriq anwār al-qulūb, al-Dabbāgh lui-même distingue entre la beauté intérieure et la beauté extérieure de l’aimé(e) ; la
contemplation, en soi-même, de la première, distrait l’amant de voir la seconde, qui n’est en fait qu’un hijāb qui lui en voile la vue, même si [cette
contemplation de la beauté extérieure] est la condition première de la
contemplation de la beauté intérieure (wa in kānat awwalan shartan fī husūlihā), cependant ajoute-t-il : « pour certains gnostiques, la Réalité s’épiphanise en toute chose ; aucun hijāb ne peut La leur voiler (tajallā lahum al156 Asrār, fol. 83a et b [256-7].
157 A l’un de ses disciples venu se plaindre un jour à lui des attaques de Satan, il répondit : « rends-lui son ici-bas, il te rendra ton au-delà », D. Gril, « Le saint et le
maître », p. 66.
158 Voir A. Schimmel, Le Soufisme, p. 522. al-Dabbāgh, quant à lui, cite la femme
d’al-‘azīz au nombre des ahl al-tamkīn fī l-ahwāl (ou gens de la maîtrise dans les
états spirituels), contrairement à ses amies invitées chez elle qui, captivées par la
beauté de Yūsuf, se coupèrent la main à sa vue, Kitāb Mashāriq anwār al-qulūb, op.
cit., p. 90.

376

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE
159

Haqq fī kulli shay’ fa-lā yahjibuhum ‘anhu hijāb) » . Ibn ‘Arabī (m. 638/
1240) va plus loin qui a « tendance […] à percevoir le divin à travers la beauté féminine » ; la femme dans la mystique akbarienne étant « la vraie révéla160
tion de la grâce et de la puissance créatrice de Dieu » .
D’après l’économie du récit des Asrār, le corps de la femme ne semble
pas ici stigmatisé en tant que tel mais comme objet de diversion et d’atta chement au même titre que les chevaux et les vêtements de luxe, symbole du
monde, évoqués dans l’anecdote qui précède celle-ci et que nous avons déjà
citée. A. Schimmel évoque « la tendance rencontrée à la fois dans le soufisme classique et le christianisme médiéval, tendance à mettre en équiva 161
lence le ‘monde’ et la femme » . En matière d’attitudes médiévales concernant le corps, les tabous sexuels, les relations entre le masculin et le féminin,
162
la rive nord de la Méditerranée n’est pas en reste ; ces attitudes devraient
toutefois faire l’objet d’approches historiques et non exclusivement reli163
gieuses ou théologiques .
Nous avons cité, plus haut, une anecdote montrant le cheikh en compagnie du faqīh Yahyā b. ‘Awāna, ainsi que les propos attribués à ce dernier ;
159 Mashāriq, op. cit., p. 92.
160 A. Schimmel, Le Soufisme, p. 524. Pour Ibn ‘Arabī, voir notamment Fusūs al-hikam,
Le Caire, Maktabat al-thaqāfa al-dīniyya, s.d., pp. 178-189 et plus particulièrement p.
180-1 pour son interprétation du célèbre hadith attribué au Prophète : « De votre
monde, m’ont été rendus aimables les femmes, les parfums, et la fraîcheur a été donnée à mes yeux dans la prière » ; selon lui, des trois contemplations par l’homme de
la Réalité (al-Haqq), (dans la femme ; dans sa propre âme en tant qu’origine de la
manifestation de la femme ; et dans son âme sans le souvenir de ce qui est issu de
lui) c’est la première [dans la femme] qui est la plus complète et la plus parfaite (fashuhūduhu lil-Haqq fī l-mar’a atamm wa akmal) ; c’est pour cette raison que le
Prophète aima les femmes pour la perfection de la contemplation de la Réalité en
elles (falihādha ahabba al-nisā’ li-kamāl shuhūd al-Haqq fīhinna).
161 A. Schimmel, Le Soufisme, p. 521.
162 Il n’est pour s’en rendre compte que de lire l’ouvrage sous la direction de Philippe
Ariès et Georges Duby, éd., Histoire de la vie privée, t. 2, De l’Europe féodale à la
Renaissance, Paris, Seuil, 1985, notamment les p. 518 et s. qui concernent plus précisément la femme et sa représentation chez les moralistes du XIe au XIIIe siècle. Voir
également Jacques Le Goff et Nicolas Truong, Une histoire du corps au Moyen Âge,
Paris, Liana Lévi, 2003 où on peut lire notamment « qu’au XIIe siècle, le théologien
parisien Hugues de Saint-Victor (m. 1141) est allé même jusqu’à dire que la sexualité
conjugale relève de la fornication », pp. 50-51.
163 Un bon exemple en la matière pourrait être la notion de ‘awra de la femme musulmane qui « n’est pas l’une de ses qualités intrinsèques ni en tant que femme ni en
tant que musulmane, puisqu’elle varie en fonction, d’une part, de son statut social et,
d’autre part, de son âge », Eric Chaumont, « La notion de ‘awra selon Abū l-Hasan
‘Alī b. Muhammad b. al-Qattān al-Fāsī », in C. Mayeur-Jaouen et B. Heyberger, éd.,
Le corps et le sacré, p. 118.

377

NELLY AMRI

on y constate une exaltation de la défiance à l’égard des femmes, y compris
vieilles : leur corps, même en imagination, est la source de toutes les tentations ; et cette rigueur dans l’ascèse que décrivent les notices biographiques
d’un dictionnaire comme les Ma‘ālim, de tel saint souhaitant être aveugle ou
de tel autre n’hésitant pas à se castrer afin d’échapper aux avances d’une
belle femme, ou enfin de tel cheikh empêchant ses fuqarā’ de prendre une
164
servante même âgée , fait figure de lieu commun. L’hagiographie rejoint,
certes, des thèmes anciens, voire récurrents, mais qui, dans un contexte de
résurgence mālikite, prennent une ampleur et une signification nouvelles.
165
Serions-nous en présence d’un trait de culture traduisant une situation qui
166
serait en retrait par rapport à la période fondatrice de l’islam , voire à la ré167
vélation ?
Pourtant, dans d’autres anecdotes, le saint nous est montré partageant,
avec une vieille femme réputée sainte (‘ajūzan sāliha), baraka, un repas qui
venait de lui être offert par un faqīh-sermonnaire (wā‘iz) en vue, sharīf de
surcroît, dans la maison de ce dernier et sans que cela suscite une quel168
conque émotion ; d’autre part, l’image que donne l’hagiographe de Umm
Yahyā Maryam à qui injonction surnaturelle fut donnée de se mettre au service d’Ibn Hanās, puis à qui ce dernier ordonna de servir le cheikh al169
Dahmānī , serait aussi un contre-exemple ; d’où le danger d’une approche
essentialiste du discours normatif et surtout de la tentation d’y voir une
sorte de reflet réifié de la réalité ; il n’en est qu’une simple facette.
Le modèle exalté ici, celui du saint dont le regard est voilé à tout ce qui
peut le détourner de la contemplation et de l’adoration de Dieu, même lorsqu’il ne s’agit que du visage de son épouse, coexiste, on l’a vu, avec un autre
modèle relayé par la production hagiologique, celui du gnostique pour qui
164 Cf. N. Amri, « Le corps du saint dans l’hagiographie du Maghreb médiéval », in
C. Mayeur-Jaouen et B. Heyberger, éd., Le corps et le sacré, pp. 70-71.
165 E. Chaumont, commentant le traité d’Ibn al-Qattān, notamment de son « découpage
particulier de la question du regard » parle de « rigorisme plutôt étranger à la tradition musulmane », « La notion de ‘awra », op. cit., p. 112.
166 A. Schimmel évoque « une évolution qui fait que la femme, sous l’effet de courants
légalistes et ascétiques de plus en plus influents, s’est trouvée placée dans une position très éloignée de celle qu’elle occupait du temps du Prophète et de ses successeurs », L’Islam au féminin, op. cit., p. 29.
167 Sur la femme dans le Coran, cf. l’article de D. Gril « Femme », in Mohammed Ali
Amir-Moezzi, éd., Dictionnaire du Coran, Paris, R. Laffont, 2007, pp. 338-343. Voir
aussi l’entrée de Ruth Roded, « Women and the Qur’ān », Enc. Qur’ān, V, pp. 523541.
168 Deux occurrences : Asrār, fol. 56a et b [227] et 69b-70a [243-4].
169 Voir infra.

378

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

Dieu s’épiphanise en toute chose et qui Le contemple dans tout être existen170
cié .
Pour conclure, l’hagiographie est fille de son époque ; une époque où la
conscience coupable se concentre, entre autres thèmes du malheur des
temps, sur la femme objet de toutes les tentations et de toutes les suspicions.
Néanmoins, les relations qui peuvent se nouer entre un cheikh et une sāliha
qui se met à son service, et qui « traversent pour ainsi dire les frontières de
genre qui gouvernent les contacts sociaux entre hommes et femmes »,
171
comme l’écrit M. Marín , empêchent de durcir outre mesure ce constat et
montrent que le soufisme fut un espace régi par ses propres codes et sa
propre éthique et que ceux-ci, partout où ils ont eu droit de cité, ont cohabité avec les normes de la Loi exotérique, avec plus ou moins bonne intelligence, permettant notamment aux femmes – par le truchement de la sainte té – d’acquérir une présence, une liberté, une place et une reconnaissance,
172
« rarement attestées dans d’autres sphères de la vie sociale » . Ce fut le cas
d’Umm Yahyā Maryam, la compagne spirituelle d’al-Dahmānī au service duquel elle s’était entièrement consacrée et qui faisait aussi partie de son univers familial, reproduisant le modèle de ces couples spirituels dont l’hagiographie islamique mais aussi chrétienne, nous offrent maints exemples.

Le cheikh et sa compagne spirituelle
Umm Yahyā Maryam
Nous avons déjà évoqué la relation très étroite qui unissait le cheikh Abū
Yūsuf à cette sainte. Une sainte dont nous ignorons pratiquement tout sauf
son origine géographique (elle était originaire d’al-Minya, dans la région de
Sfax sur le littoral ifrīqiyen) et cette relation privilégiée qui la liait à alDahmānī. Une relation au centre de laquelle se trouve la notion de khidma,
cette mise de soi au service d’un cheikh ou d’une sainte, dont la littérature
173
hagiographique nous a laissé maints exemples . Sa kunya semble indiquer
qu’elle avait un fils, Yahyā, mais il n’apparaît nulle part, encore moins son
époux (en était-elle séparée ?) ; au contraire, elle nous est montrée libre de
toute attache familiale ; faut-il supposer que sa fréquentation du cheikh al170
171
172
173

Mashāriq, op. cit., p. 65.
M. Marín, Exemplary women, op. cit.
Ibid.
Pour l’Orient islamique, voir N. et L. Amri, Les femmes soufies, op. cit., notamment
les notices de Rābi‘a al-‘Adawiyya (p. 115), de Mu‘ādha al-‘Adawiyya al-Basriyya
(p. 145), de Maryam al-Basriyya (p. 149) ; et voir M. Marín, Exemplary women,
op. cit.

379

NELLY AMRI
174

Dahmānī intervient alors qu’elle était déjà une femme d’âge mûr , ou bien
fut-elle laissée précocement veuve ? On ne peut rien affirmer. L’adjectif de
murābita dont elle est qualifiée semble en tout cas indiquer, moins une activité d’ascèse dans un ribāt – nous n’en connaissons pas à l’époque pour les
femmes sur le littoral ifrīqiyen –, qu’une réputation de sainteté et de salāh
vers laquelle pointe désormais la notion. Sommée lors d’une vision onirique
de prendre la route pour Mahdiyya afin d’apporter son aide au cheikh Abū
Zakariyyā’ Ibn Hanās, le khādim (serviteur) d’al-Dahmānī, la sainte s’exécute ; quand elle arrive dans la ville, non sans une certaine appréhension,
c’est le cheikh Abū Yūsuf lui-même qui lui ouvre la porte : « Bienvenue, lui
dit-il, à la murābita Maryam, autant de fois qu’il t’a fallu pour arriver jusqu’ici ; je suis Ya‘qūb al-Dahmānī et celui qu’il te fut enjoint, dans ton rêve,
de contacter, est chez moi ». Puis Ibn Hanās, dont la khidma n’infirme en
rien le rang et l’excellence, aux dires même d’al-Dahmānī, ordonne à Umm
175
Yahyā de se mettre au service du cheikh . Les manuels classiques de soufisme considèrent la khidma comme « le compagnonnage avec qui est à un
degré spirituel supérieur » (suhba ma‘a man fawqaka) ; la khidma serait
d’ailleurs ce qui est le plus digne des états des mashāyikh, tandis que la suhba stricto sensu est ce qui lie les frères en Dieu (al-ikhwān) et les pairs (alaqrān) (al-suhba ma‘a al-ikhwān wa l-aqrān, wa ma‘a al-mashāyikh, al-khid176
ma) ; cependant, les notions, surtout à cette étape où le soufisme est encore assez informel (VIe-VIIe/XIIe-XIIIe siècle) ne sont pas aussi clairement
délimitées : ainsi on peut lire dans la wasiyya de Qushayrī aux novices
(murīdīn) à la fin de sa Risāla : « le respect (ihtirām) est dû aux shuyūkh et la
177
khidma aux compagnons (ashāb) » ; tout cela pour dire que la relation qui
semble avoir lié Umm Yahyā au cheikh est tout à la fois une relation de
khidma et de suhba : service et compagnonnage, l’un n’excluant pas,
d’ailleurs, comme on l’a vu, l’autre ; « elle faisait partie des plus grands
saints, écrit al-Dabbāgh, on lui connaît de nombreux prodiges ; je ne les cite
174 On a supposé que sa première rencontre avec le cheikh devait se situer un peu avant
590/1193-4 ; elle devait être probablement âgée d’une cinquantaine d’années. Dans
certaines anecdotes, vraisemblablement vers la fin de la vie du cheikh (m. 621/1224),
elle est, en effet, décrite comme une femme âgée « de quatre-vingt ou de quatrevingt dix ans », Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, III, p. 221 ; on peut supposer que, lui ayant survécu quelques années, elle serait morte v. 625/1228, âgée d’environ 90 ans.
175 Asrār, fol. 33b-34a [186-7].
176 Voir al-Qushayrī, al-Risāla al-Qushayriyya, Beyrouth, s.d., p. 133 ; Suhrawardī, Kitāb
‘Awārif al-ma‘ārif, 1e éd. Beyrouth, 1966, p. 408 et 437 ; voir aussi Manāqib ‘Abd alWahhāb al-Mzūghī, MS. 18555, BN, Tunis, fol. 134a.
177 Qushayrī, al-Risāla, pp. 180-186.

380

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

pas par souci de concision ; de tous ses contemporains, c’est elle qui avait le
plus de révérence pour le cheikh (wa kānat min ashadd al-nās ta‘zīman li l178
shaykh) » .
Cette femme dont l’intimité avec le cheikh fera dire à ce dernier : « ma
maison, celle d’Abū ‘Alī [al-Naftī], celle de la murābita Umm Yahyā et celle
179
180
des Awlād al-Raqīq , ne forment qu’une seule et même maison » avait
coutume, selon son propre témoignage, d’accompagner le cheikh dans sa
181
siyāha . Elle ne s’est jamais assise en sa présence, malgré son âge avancé,
sinon voilée, en signe de pudeur à son égard, et n’a jamais regardé son visage, en témoignage de considération et de révérence (ijlālan wa haybatan).
Lorsque le cheikh mourut et qu’elle vint présenter ses condoléances à ses
enfants, on lui proposa de s’asseoir à la place qu’occupait habituellement le
cheikh ; elle refusa, répondant : « j’aurais honte devant Dieu de manquer
aux convenances à l’égard du cheikh, mort, alors que je les respectais de son
vivant » (innī astahī min Allāh an ata’addaba ma‘ahu hayyan wa lā ata’ad182
daba ma‘ahu maytan) .
Il semblerait que la sainte ait été victime de calomnies ; la sainteté des
femmes, en effet, n’étant pas toujours à l’abri des contestations et des soup183
çons , même si le modèle que semble avoir incarné Umm Yahyā, en comparaison notamment avec celui incarné, quelques décennies plus tard par
‘Ā’isha al-Mannūbiyya (m. 665/1267), est encore dans une grande mesure un
modèle plutôt agréé. En tout cas, il faut croire que même sous cette forme, la
pratique de la sainte a pu faire jaser : séances de récollection communes
avec le cheikh, pérégrinations communes, ziyāra (visite pieuse) hebdomadaire en commun, sur le mode surnaturel, au lieu emblématique (dans al184
185
Zāb [le Mzāb]) où se trouve la sépulture de ‘Uqba b. Nāfi‘ , cohabitation
avec le cheikh et sa famille à Mahdiyya, mais aussi visites réciproques que le
178 Asrār, fol. 34a [187].
179 Sur ce lignage saint de la région de Sfax, voir N. Amri, al-Tasawwuf bi-Ifrīqīya, pp.
167, 171-172.
180 Asrār, fol. 5a [136].
181 Asrār, fol. 12b-13a [151].
182 Asrār, fol. 34a [187].
183 L’hagiographie de ‘Ā’isha al-Mannūbiyya en est un bel exemple ; cf. Nelly Amri,
La Sainte de Tunis. Présentation et traduction de l’hagiographie de ‘Ā’isha al-Mannūbiyya, Arles, Sindbad Actes-Sud, 2008, pp. 70-73.
184 Voir Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, I, p. 166 ; pour sa localisation à Tahūda au sud-est de Biskra,
en Algérie aujourd’hui, cf. Asrar, Ed., p. 246, n. 42.
185 A qui l’on doit la première fondation islamique au Maghreb, Kairouan, et sa célèbre
mosquée.

381

NELLY AMRI

cheikh et sa compagne spirituelle se rendaient mutuellement, ce dernier pas186
sant même la nuit chez elle en compagnie de quelques disciples , etc. On
peut déduire ces attaques de deux anecdotes rapportées par al-Dabbāgh ;
dans l’une d’elles, le cheikh nous est montré prenant la défense de la sainte
187
contre l’un de ses détracteurs .
L’hagiographe insiste d’autre part sur le profond accord existant entre le
cheikh et Umm Yahyā au niveau de leurs pensées intimes (al-khātir). Ibn
Nājī, dans son Ma‘ālim, reproduisant les propos d’al-Dabbāgh, évoque : « la
noble intention, l’union dans l’amitié et le discernement des esprits » qui
liait Umm Yahyā au cheikh Abū Yūsuf (kāna lahā fī l-shaykh qasdun ‘azīm
188
wa niyya hasana wa ittihād mahabba wa firāsa) .
Le cheikh et Umm Yahyā sont d’ailleurs montrés se consultant mutuellement, notamment dans les questions relatives au mariage des fuqarā’ (les
189
novices) , la sainte, en signe de révérence, s’en remettant à la décision du
190
cheikh . Car la « famille » du saint n’est pas seulement sa famille biologique, mais aussi cette famille spirituelle, qu’au-delà de la première, il est appelé à fonder et qui doit être traitée avec la même compassion et les mêmes
égards que la famille charnelle ; quant à celle-ci, elle est appelée à son tour à
devenir famille spirituelle ; c’est ce que nous allons examiner à présent.

Le saint comme père
Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen explorait récemment la figure complexe et peu
191
étudiée jusque-là, du « saint musulman en père de famille » ; si ce statut
de père peut sembler aller de soi, modèle prophétique oblige, autre chose est
l’épreuve à laquelle est soumis le cheikh : celle d’être un père « saint » pour
ses fils et filles, dépassant l’amour charnel pour l’amour spirituel en Dieu de
ses enfants, lequel est aussi inscrit dans l’idéal muhammadien. Ce sont ces
deux figures de père charnel et de père spirituel du cheikh al-Dahmānī,
telles qu’al-Dabbāgh en dessine les contours, que nous allons tenter très rapidement de survoler.
On connaît les prénoms d’une grande partie des fils du cheikh : Abū lHajjāj Yūsuf, son fils aîné, d’où le surnom du cheikh et de sa première
186
187
188
189
190
191

Cf. Asrār, fol. 45b [209].
Asrār, fol. 23a [168].
Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, III, p. 222.
Voir ci-dessous.
Voir l’anecdote figurant dans Asrār fol. 58a-b [229-230] et que nous développons infra.
C. Mayeur-Jaouen, « Le saint musulman en père de famille », in N. Amri et D. Gril,
éd., Saint et sainteté, pp. 249-267.

382

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

femme, Umm Yūsuf ; c’est, parmi ses fils, l’un de ceux qui rapporte le plus
de récits sur son père, et qui, probablement en vertu du droit de primogéniture, prenait certaines libertés, notamment de parole, avec son père. Il est
absent de la liste des enfants du cheikh l’ayant accompagné au hajj, selon
une version, et présent, à l’exclusivité de ses frères et sœurs, selon une
autre. Les autres fils du cheikh sont Muhammad (Abū ‘Abd Allāh) (cité au
nombre des enfants du cheikh l’ayant accompagné à La Mecque ; c’est chez
192
lui à Tunis que le cheikh réside en 618/1221) ; Ahmad qui, lui aussi était
du voyage ; Abū Muhammad ‘Abd Allāh ; Abū Ishāq Ibrāhīm, futur prédica193
teur (khatīb) à la grande mosquée à Kairouan et successeur du cheikh ;
Abū ‘Alī ‘Umar, fils de Hafsa, qui fut l’intendant de son père vers la fin de sa
194
vie et qui construisit le mausolée qui abrita la tombe du cheikh à sa mort,
dans la nécropole de Bāb Tūnis, au sud de la sépulture du faqīh Abū l-Hasan
195
196
al-Qābisī ; Abū ‘Alī ‘Umar succéda à son frère Ibrāhīm ; Abū Bakr à qui
sont attribués plusieurs récits, exaltant notamment la figure d’éducateur du
cheikh et qui est montré témoin des ahwāl (pl. de hāl : état mystique) de son
père ; Ismā‘īl, désigné par l’une des copies des Asrār comme étant l’enfant
dont le cheikh aurait oint la tête prédisant à son sujet : « il sera caché [sa
sainteté sera occultée] dans ce monde, il sera longanime à l’égard de quiconque lui nuit et d’un grand secours pour les musulmans dans l’au197
delà » ; Abū ‘Alī Yūnus à qui le cheikh recommande la patience, l’inten198
tion droite, la bonne conduite à l’égard de ses frères et à qui il demanda
199
cent dirhams afin de construire le mausolée qui devait abriter sa tombe .
Un autre fils, Abū Zakariyyā’, est cité dans les Manāqib, comme l’un des informateurs de l’auteur sur le samā‘ qui fut organisé en l’honneur du cheikh
200
au Caire et au cours duquel il entra en extase et fut vu en lévitation . ‘Abd
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200

Asrār, fol. 21b [165].
Asrār, fol. 57a [228].
Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, IV, p. 28.
Asrār, fol. 60a et b [233-4] ; le lieu de sépulture avait été fixé par le saint lui-même
après une vision du Prophète qu’avait eue un certain « al-Hājj Mu‘āwiya » parmi les
pauvres en Dieu.
Asrār, fol. 57a [228].
Asrār, fol. 24a [170].
Asrār, fol. 86b [259].
Asrār, fol. 59b [232].
Asrār, fol. 109a [282] ; cette lévitation a fait l’objet d’un récit de Safī al-Dīn b Abī lMansūr b. Zāfir (m. 682/1283) dans sa Risāla (Introduction, édition et traduction par
D. Gril, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, Le Caire, 1986), pp. 90-91 du texte
français, dans la notice d’al-Harrār, qui se mit au service du cheikh al-Dahmānī au
Caire. Sur le samā‘ au Maghreb, cf. N. Amri, « Le samā‘ dans les milieux soufis du

383

NELLY AMRI

al-Rahmān qui n’est évoqué nulle part mais que l’on devine à partir du surnom de sa mère ; peut-être n’a-t-il pas vécu jusqu’à la date de la rédaction
des Manāqib (645/1247) ; parmi les fils du cheikh nés vers la fin de sa vie :
Ishāq et ‘Abd al-Malik nés entre 611/1214 et 621/1224, si l’on en croit le récit
201
rapporté par Hafsa .
Quant à ses filles, nous connaissons les prénoms de trois d’entre elles :
‘Ā’isha et Maryam qui l’accompagnèrent lors de son pèlerinage en 595/
1199 ; et Mu’mina qu’il donna en mariage à son fils adoptif Abū Yūsuf
202
Ya‘qūb b. Khalīfa al-Dahmānī, mais qui semble-t-il mourut jeune ; on
ignore qui sont leurs mères respectives ; peut-être Umm Yūsuf est-elle la
mère des deux premières pour les mêmes raisons évoquées ci-dessus.
L’hagiographie exalte, par divers récits, le rôle d’éducateur joué par le
203
cheikh à l’égard de ses enfants, y compris les filles ; il nous est notamment
montré leur enseignant des manuels de tasawwuf, telle la Risāla de Qushayrī. Certaines anecdotes mettent l’accent sur une dimension à proprement parler initiatique et de dévoilement dans les rapports du cheikh avec
certains de ses fils : l’un d’entre eux, Abū Bakr, rapporte un prodige de
claire-vue du cheikh à qui fut dévoilée l’une des pensées intimes du fils sur
204
les karāmāt de son père . Un autre récit dû au même fils est rapporté : ce
dernier, au cours de l’une des leçons que lui donnait le cheikh, fut témoin
d’un état mystique (hāl) de son père dont la taille devint comparable à celle
d’une montagne et qui, là encore, lit dans le secret du cœur de son fils et lui
dévoile sa précellence sur les saints de son époque ; puis, une fois son hāl
terminé, sa taille se mit à rétrécir : « il ne manque plus qu’il soit englouti par
la terre », se dit le fils ; le cheikh se mit debout et marcha, il heurta une
pierre qui lui arracha l’ongle. Il dit alors : – Louange est à Dieu qui nous
éduque par les manifestations extérieures (alladhī ja‘ala adabanā fī l-zā205
hir) . Dans le même ordre d’idées illustrant cette figure du cheikh comme
éducateur de ses enfants, et attribué à ce même fils, Abū Bakr, un récit où ce
dernier a une vision de l’éminente sainteté de son père et où il évoque, dans

201
202
203
204
205

Maghreb (VIIe-Xe/XIIIe-XVIe siècle) : pratiques, tensions et codification », Al-Qantara,
July-December, XXX/2, Madrid, 2009.
Asrār, fol. 59a [231]
Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim, IV, p. 28.
Sur « la famille appelée à devenir disciple. De la paternité charnelle à la paternité
spirituelle », voir C. Mayeur-Jaouen, « Le saint musulman en père de famille »,
pp. 260-262.
Asrār, fol. 5b [138].
Asrār, fol. 9b-10a [146].

384

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

son for intérieur, le sort de quiconque doute de la walāya du cheikh ou le
diffame, attitude qui lui fait perdre sa qualité de musulman. Le cheikh, grâce
à son don de claire-vue, lit dans les pensées de son fils et dit : – mon fils, celui qui ne croit pas en un prophète (nabī) est incroyant ; celui qui ne croit
206
pas en un saint (walī) est privé de sa bénédiction .
« L’un de ses fils [Abū ‘Alī ‘Umar] rapporte que le cheikh avait coutume de réunir autour de lui ses enfants le vendredi afin de leur apprendre
les règles de bonne conduite, selon la Sunna prophétique, et de leur faire aimer la récitation du Coran ; « il donnait de l’argent, en guise de récompense, à celui ou à celle d’entre nous qui observait ses cinq prières, et était
obéissant ; il lui accordait des faveurs alimentaires, afin de susciter en nous
le désir du bien ». Il apprenait à ses enfants les règles de bienséance, selon la
Sunna […], y compris celles du boire et du manger et ordonnait à ses
épouses d’apprendre aux nourrissons à mettre la main devant la bouche
quand ils baillaient ; un jour, l’une des fillettes du cheikh était assise à ses
côtés lorsqu’elle vit bailler l’un des visiteurs de celui-ci, un homme de Dieu,
aussitôt elle le devança et mit sa main devant sa bouche avant même qu’il ne
207
le fit, tant elle avait été initiée aux bonnes convenances (al-adab) » .
Les enfants du cheikh nous sont, en effet, montrés dans un rapport de
grande proximité avec leur père, y compris quand ce dernier était entouré de
208
disciples ou de compagnons , voire de simples visiteurs, comme dans le récit ci-dessus. Ils l’accompagnent également dans ses retraites pieuses dans
les ribāts : l’un de ses disciples raconte : « j’étais avec le cheikh au ribāt de
Monastir, en compagnie d’un groupe de personnes ; l’un de ses fils, un garçonnet, était sur ses jambes ; il fit signe au Hājj Faraj al-Khālidī [probablement préposé à la nourriture] de ramener quelque chose à manger qu’il donna aussitôt à l’enfant. Les personnes présentes furent quelque peu offusquées par l’affection dont fit montre le cheikh à l’égard de son fils ; devinant
leurs pensées, le cheikh se mit alors à parler de la compassion et de la miséricorde, disant : – Dieu est Tout-Miséricorde ; Il aime les miséricordieux ; les
enfants, tant qu’ils sont petits, ont sur nous des droits ; ils les perdent dès
209
qu’ils grandissent [littéralement dès qu’ils atteignent la puberté] » . On
voit également ici se profiler le modèle prophétique : la Sīra évoquant à
maintes reprises l’amour du Prophète pour ses enfants, ses petites-filles et
206
207
208
209

Asrār, fol. 18a [160].
Asrār, fol. 28b [177-8].
Asrār, fol. 24a [170].
Asrār, fol. 16a et b [156-7].

385

NELLY AMRI

ses petits-fils, notamment Hasan et Husayn ; Usāma, le fils de Zayd b. Hāri210
tha, le fils adoptif du Prophète, était aussi considéré comme un petit-fils .
Les fils du cheikh nous sont montrés également suivant leur père dans
ses pérégrinations et voyages, tel ce fils qui jouait et s’attardait à divers endroits sur la route, faisant craindre à certain disciple du cheikh qu’il n’y restât et que le voyage n’en fût perturbé ; le cheikh, devinant les pensées secrètes du disciple lui dit : « – Si tu vois l’un de mes enfants désobéir [à
211
Dieu], essuie sa bouche et embrasse-le, car c’est un ami de Dieu » . Dans
un autre passage, parlant de son fils Abū ‘Alī Yūnus, le cheikh rétorque à
son intendant venu se plaindre de lui : « celui qui est rattaché [par un lien
généalogique] à un saint, il reçoit sa baraka (man intasaba li-walī nāla bara212
katahu) » . Exemples clairs de l’existence, déjà au VII e/XIIIe siècle, de
213
formes de transmission héréditaire du charisme . Nous verrons, cependant,
que cet exemple est tempéré par d’autres où le charisme apparaît comme
l’unique apanage du saint.
Il en est ainsi dans ce récit rapporté par Yūsuf le fils aîné du cheikh, témoin, ainsi que son oncle paternel, d’une scène d’attroupement d’un grand
nombre de fidèles autour du cheikh à sa sortie du Ribāt al-Munastīr ; à la
vue de cette affluence autour du saint, le fils ne put réprimer une pensée sur
l’état du cheikh et le leur, le sien propre et celui de son oncle. Lisant dans
ses pensées, le cheikh lui dit : – cet état qui m’est propre, parmi ceux que tu
viens d’évoquer [sous-entendu « mes proches »], est un don d’élection puis
214
il récita le verset « Il privilégie de Sa Miséricorde qui Il veut » (3, 74) .
Un autre récit exalte l’affection que portent les enfants du cheikh à leur
père, devenu vieux et aveugle : le rapporteur et protagoniste est ici son fils
Yūnus qui acheta un jour, dès sa mise sur le marché, une grappe de raisin
qu’il voulut offrir à son père ; il trouva celui-ci assoiffé et dans un grand embarras de se servir en eau ou bien d’en demander, afin d’étancher sa soif. Il
recommanda à son fils, chaque fois qu’il sera dans la gêne ou dans le besoin,
210
211
212
213

M. Lings, Le Prophète Muhammad, pp. 446, 514.
Asrār, fol. 21a [164].
Asrār, fol. 18b [160].
Cf. N. Amri, « al-Tarīqa bi-Ifrīqīya fī l-‘ahd al-hafsī : mafhūmuha wa anmāt intiqālihā min khilāl masādir al-fatra [la tarīqa [voie] en Ifrīqīya à l’époque hafside
(VIIe/XIIIe siècle-fin du IXe/XVe siècle) : notion et modes de transmission] », dans
Madārāt / Tropiques, vol. VII, n° 13-14, Hiver 2001, pp. 100-115.
214 Asrār, fol. 23b-24a [169] ; la même anecdote est reprise avec quelques variantes au
fol. 88a [261], avec notamment ce propos du cheikh : « j’ai trouvé mon nom inscrit
dans le Livre de Dieu et n’ai pas trouvé celui de mon père ». La sainteté du fils ne rejaillit pas sur le père.

386

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

de se remémorer cette grappe et d’implorer Dieu. Le fils s’exécuta et y trou215
va à maintes reprises, écrit al-Dabbāgh, une grande baraka .
216
Les enfants du saint ne sont pas seulement ceux de la chair ; le cheikh
exerce aussi une véritable paternité à l’égard de ses disciples, notamment
quand ils sont orphelins ou très pauvres, comme ce Faraj al-Khālidī que le
saint marie à sa cousine germaine en quelque sorte de force (bi-sayf al-Haqq,
lui fait dire l’hagiographe) c’est-à-dire contre le gré de son oncle, réfractaire
à cette union à cause de l’indigence de ce neveu ; l’oncle finira par s’incliner
devant l’autorité de la sainte Umm Yahyā Maryam mandatée par le cheikh
pour régler l’affaire ; le nouveau marié se voit offrir la somme de sept dinars : « de la part de ton père », c’est-à-dire d’al-Dahmānī, lui dit la sainte ;
cette dernière elle-même se comporta en mère du nouveau marié, puis217
qu’elle le crédita aussi d’une somme d’argent . Nous nous contentons de
cette anecdote, mais il est évident que de nombreuses autres illustrent cette
idée que si « la famille charnelle du saint est appelée à devenir famille spirituelle », inversement, « la famille spirituelle doit être traitée comme la fa218
mille charnelle » .

Quelques conclusions
Lue et interprétée à la lumière de la Sīra, l’hagiographie d’al-Dahmānī recèle
des dimensions « familiales », jusque-là, peu explorées. Les épouses du
cheikh sont appréhendées ici dans leur statut de transmetteuses de sa mémoire ; l’une d’entre elles, Hafsa Umm ‘Umar, est une source principale d’informations sur le cheikh, rejoignant, par-là, la figure de ‘Ā’isha bt. Abī Bakr,
l’épouse du Prophète. La comparaison des anecdotes rapportées par les
épouses du cheikh avec celles transmises par les disciples ou encore les fils
de ce dernier, ne montre guère de différence qualitative dans le contenu et la
nature de ces récits ; et la dimension « publique » n’est pas absente, loin
s’en faut, dans les récits rapportés par Hafsa.
Pratiqué par le saint et encouragé par lui, le mariage apparaît comme
une actualisation de la Sunna prophétique et comme voie d’accès à Dieu.
L’idéal de pauvreté loué ici (le cheikh n’ayant pratiquement pas de ressources, et vivant, ainsi que toute sa maisonnée, sur le mode du tawakkul ou
remise à Dieu pour sa subsistance), et le respect du plus grand scrupule dans
215
216
217
218

Asrār, fol. 90a et b [263].
C. Mayeur-Jaouen, « Le saint musulman en père de famille », p. 260.
Asrār, fol. 58a-b [229-230].
C. Mayeur-Jaouen, ibid., p. 262.

387

NELLY AMRI

le partage des dons et dans l’épineuse question de la hadiyya et de la zakāt,
renvoient au modèle du Prophète dont la pauvreté est soulignée par la Sīra.
Dans la conduite du cheikh à l’égard de ses épouses, notamment son souci
d’être parfaitement équitable à leur égard, l’image du mari exécutant les doléances de ses femmes, usant de douceur à leur égard, reconnaissant leurs
vertus, excusant leurs débordements, reproduit dans une mesure appréciable
le modèle prophétique tel qu’il est présenté dans la Sīra et consacré dans les
traditions attribuées au Prophète, notamment ce hadith : « Le meilleur
219
d’entre vous sera celui qui est le meilleur envers sa femme » .
Dans le rapport du saint au corps de la femme, siègent, dans les représentations de l’époque, des tentations contre lesquelles l’homme de Dieu
nous est montré en lutte constante, le modèle à l’œuvre ici s’inscrit dans une
éthique de renoncement radical au monde : le saint est plus que jamais le
préservé que Dieu Se réserve jalousement et à qui il accorde de voir ce
monde avec son œil intérieur. Dans sa vie conjugale, le corps du Prophète
est tantôt une frontière, une limite entre « deux intimités [l’intimité avec
Dieu et l’intimité avec l’épouse] également sacrées mais exclusives l’une de
220
l’autre », et tantôt une participation au sacré, dans l’union des corps . L’approche du corps de l’aimée sous la plume d’al-Dabbāgh, soumise au double
éclairage des Asrār et du Mashāriq se ressent aussi d’une certaine ambivalence : la contemplation de la beauté extérieure est un voile oblitérant la
contemplation de la beauté intérieure, mais elle en est aussi une condition.
Mashāriq al-anwār, cet autre versant de l’écriture d’al-Dabbāgh – si son attribution à ce dernier se confirmait –, éclaire d’une lumière nouvelle
l’homme et l’œuvre : hagiographie et hagiologie, un double discours sur les
saints, certes, mais un discours assurément complémentaire et profondément solidaire, en tout cas qui puise sa cohésion dans l’unité même de l’expérience et de la perception de celui qui le porte. Une hypothèse à méditer –
et surtout à vérifier – pour un genre trop souvent réduit à sa dimension holistique et à ses redondances.
Certes, la sainteté d’Umm Yūsuf, l’épouse du cheikh, est reconnue voire
louée, de la bouche même de son saint époux, une sainteté de privations, de
piété, de renoncement, de longanimité et surtout d’obéissance, toutes ces
vertus cardinales sont incarnées par les Ummahāt al-Mu’minīn ; mais cette
sainteté s’épanouit à l’ombre de la sainteté du cheikh, elle se fond presque
dans cette dernière, et fait pratiquement corps avec elle ; une sainteté
219 Cité dans A. Schimmel, L’islam au féminin, p. 64.
220 Cf. l’article déjà cité de D. Gril, « Le corps du Prophète », pp. 37-57.

388

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

presque ordinaire, dirions-nous, dont même les prodiges sont tus. Non pas
que ces vertus ne soient pas à l’œuvre dans l’itinéraire et la figure d’Umm
Yahyā Maryam, la compagne spirituelle du cheikh, mais là il ne s’agit plus
d’une sainteté « par association » ; c’est une walāya qui obéit à sa propre
force cinétique (elle est déjà murābita dans sa Minya natale) et projette dans
l’espace qu’elle investit totalement, y compris dans sa sphère publique, les
marques d’un charisme qui lui est propre ; sa mise de soi au service du
cheikh, n’enlève rien à son mérite et à sa dignité, tout comme Ibn Hanās :
son aura et celle du cheikh s’éclairent mutuellement. La sainteté apparaît
comme la voie royale pour une présence, une visibilité sociale et une reconnaissance des femmes dans la cité, pour une liberté aussi, impensable dans
d’autres sphères de la vie sociale.
Enfin, la conduite du cheikh envers ses enfants, empreinte d’affection,
de miséricorde et du souci de leur donner une éducation en conformité avec
la Sunna prophétique, et qui, par certains aspects, tranche probablement
avec la mentalité dominante de l’époque, est aussi à mettre en perspective
du modèle de Muhammad avec les gens de sa maisonnée d’après la Sīra.
Ainsi, par la place dévolue, dans la transmission de la mémoire bio-hagiographique du saint, à ses épouses et principalement à l’une d’entre elles,
par l’image positive qu’al-Dabbāgh donne d’elles et qui renvoie à celles des
Mères des Croyants, par son évocation de l’environnement familial et féminin du cheikh, notamment de la murābita Umm Yahyā Maryam et son éminente sainteté, Al-Asrār al-jaliyya fait figure de cas particulier dans le
concert des productions hagiographiques en Ifrīqīya médiévale. Jetant une
lumière jusque-là inédite dans des productions du même type, sur l’intimité
du saint, sa sphère privée, il serait probablement le signe qu’à l’intérieur du
genre manāqib, qui a de toute évidence ses lois, ses modèles, sa morpholo gie, ses lieux communs, il y a lieu de distinguer des œuvres qui portent, plus
distinctement que d’autres, la marque de leur auteur, de son histoire, de son
cheminement, bref, de sa subjectivité. Ce type d’hagiographie constitue une
source inespérée pour une histoire des sentiments familiaux en islam.

389

NELLY AMRI

Bibliographie
Sources primaires
al-Dabbāgh, Abū Zayd ‘Abd al-Rahmān, al-Asrār al-jaliyya fī l-manāqib aldahmāniyya li Ibn al-Dabbāgh al-Qayrawānī, éd. Abdelkarim Chibli,
Mémoire pour l’obtention du Diplôme de Recherches Approfondies (DEA),
Tunis, Université de Tunis, Faculté des Sciences Humaines et Sociales,
1997 (dactylographié).
Id., Mashāriq anwār al-qulūb wa mafātih asrār al-ghuyūb, éd. Hellmut Ritter,
Beyrouth, Dār Sader, s.d.
al-Hawwārī, Abū l-Hasan ‘Alī, Manāqib Abī Sa‘īd al-Bājī, éd. Ahmad al-Bukhārī
al-Shitwī, Tunis, 2004.
Ibn Abī l-Mansūr b. Zāfir, Safī al-Dīn, Risāla, Introduction, édition et traduction
par Denis Gril, Le Caire, IFAO, 1986.
Ibn ‘Arabī, Fusūs al-hikam, Maktabat al-Thaqāfa al-Dīniyya, Le Caire, s.d.
Ibn al-Khatīb, Lisān al-Dīn, Rawdat al-ta‘rīf bi l-hubb al-sharīf, éd. ‘Abd al-Qādir
Ahmad ‘Atā’, Beyrouth, Dar al-kutub al-‘ilmiyya, 2002.
Ibn Makhlūf, Shajarat al-nūr al zakiyya fī tabaqāt al-Mālikiyya, Le Caire, 1931-2.
Ibn Manzūr, Lisān al-‘Arab, Beyrouth, Dār Sader, 2005.
Ibn Nājī, Ma‘ālim al-īmān fī ma‘rifat ahl al-Qayrawān, Tunis, Ed. al-Maktaba
al-‘atīqa, 4 vol. (vol. I, éd. Ibrahim Chabbouh, 2e édition, 1993 ; vol. II, éd.
Muhammad al-Ahmadī Abū l-Nūr et Muhammad Mādūr, s.d. ; vol. III, éd.
Muhammad Mādūr, s.d. ; vol IV, éd. Muhammad al-Majdhūb et ‘Abd
al-‘Azīz al-Majdhūb, s.d.).
Ibn Qunfudh, Uns al-faqīr wa ‘izz al-haqīr, éd. Adolphe Faure et Mohamed alFāsī, Rabat, 1965.
Id., al-Fārisiyya fī mabādi’ al-dawla al-hafsiyya, éd. Mohamed Chedly Enneifer
et Abdelmajid Turki, Tunis, MTE, 1968.
al-Isfahānī, Abū Nu‘aym, Hilyat al-awliyā’ wa tabaqāt al-asfiyā’, Le Caire,
Mataba‘at al-Sa‘āda, 1974.
al-Mahdawī, al-Salāt al-mubāraka, ed. Pablo Beneito et Stephen Hirtenstein, The
Prayer of Blessing by ‘Abd al-‘Azīz al-Mahdawī dans Journal of the
Muhyiddin Ibn ‘Arabī Society, volume XXXIV, 2003.
Maqdīsh (Mahmūd), Nuzhat al-anzār fī ‘ajā’ib al-tawārīkh wa l-akhbār, éd. Ali
Zouari et Mohamed Mahfoudh, Beyrouth, Dār al-Gharb al-Islāmī, 1988.
al-Qushayrī, al-Risāla al-Qushayriyya, Beyrouth, s.d.
al-Suhrawardī, Kitāb ‘Awārif al-ma‘ārif, 1ère éd. Beyrouth, 1966.
al-Sulamī, Abū ‘Abd al-Rahmān, Dhikr al-niswa al-muta‘abbidāt al-sūfiyyāt, éd.
et traduites par Rkia E. Cornell, Early Sufi Women, Louisville, Fons Vitae,
1999.

390

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

al-Wazīr al-Sarrāj, al-Hulal al-sundusiyya fī l-akhbār al-tūnusiyya, éd.
Muhammad al-Habīb al-Hīla, Beyrouth, Dār al-Gharb al-Islāmī, 1984.

Études
‘Abd al-Bāqī, Muhammad Fu’ād, al-Mu‘jam al-mufahras li-alfāz al-Qur’ān alkarīm, Beyrouth, Dār al-Jīl, 1987.
Addas, Claude, Ibn ‘Arabī ou la quête du Soufre rouge, Paris, Gallimard, 1989.
Amri, Nelly et Laroussi Amri, Les femmes soufies ou la passion de Dieu, St-JeanDe-Braye, Dangles, 1992.
Amri, Nelly, « al-Tarīqa bi-Ifrīqīya fī l-‘ahd al-hafsī : mafhūmuhā wa anmāt
intiqālihā min khilāl masādir al-fatra [la tarīqa [voie soufie] en Ifrīqīya à
l’époque hafside (VIIe/XIIIe siècle-fin du IXe/XVe siècle) : notion et modes
de transmission] », dans Madārāt / Tropiques, vol. VII, n° 13-14, Hiver
2001, pp. 100-115.
Id., « Le corps du saint dans l’hagiographie du Maghreb médiéval », in
Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen et Bernard Heyberger, éd., Le corps et le sacré en
Orient musulman, REMMM, n° 113-114, 2006, pp. 59-89.
Id., al-Walāya wa l-mujtama‘ [Sainteté et société. Contribution à l’histoire
religieuse et sociale de l’Ifrīqīya hafside] 2e éd., Beyrouth-Tunis, 2006.
Id., « Magistère scientifique, ascèse et patronage rural. Les figures du saint
homme à Kairouan du VIIe/XIIIe au IXe/XVe siècle, d’après le dictionnaire
d’Ibn Nājī », dans Nelly Amri et Denis Gril, éd., Saint et sainteté dans le
christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme, Paris,
Maisonneuve et Larose, MMSH, 2007, pp. 167-230.
Id., La Sainte de Tunis. Présentation et traduction de l’hagiographie de ‘Ā’isha alMannūbiyya, Paris, Sindbad Actes-Sud, 2008.
Id., Les saints en islam, les messagers de l’espérance. Sainteté et eschatologie au
Maghreb aux XIVe et XVe siècles, Paris, Cerf, 2008.
Id., « Le samā‘ dans les milieux soufis du Maghreb (VIIe-Xe/XIIIe-XVIe siècle) :
pratiques, tensions et codification », Al-Qantara, July-december, XXX/2,
2009, pp. 491-528.
Id., al-Tasawwuf bi-Ifrīqīya fi l-‘asr al-wasīt [le soufisme en Ifrīqīya à l’époque
médiévale du IIIe/IXe siècle à la fin du IXe/XVe siècle], Tunis, Contraste
Editions, 2009.
Brunschvig, Robert, La Berbérie orientale sous les Hafsides des origines à la fin du
XVe siècle, Paris, Adrien Maisonneuve, 1947, vol. I et II.
Chaumont, Eric, « La notion de ‘awra selon Abū l-Hasan ‘Alī b. Muhammad b.
al-Qattān al-Fāsī », in C. Mayeur-Jaouen et B. Heyberger, éd., Le corps et le
sacré en Orient musulman, pp. 109-123.
Djaït, Hichem, « Ecrire la vie de Muhammad. L’historien face à la Tradition », in
Biographies et récits de vie, Tunis, Alfa Maghreb et sciences sociales, IRMC,
2005, pp. 23-31.

391

NELLY AMRI

Djelloul, Neji, al-Ribātāt al-sāhiliyya al-ifrīqiya fî l-‘asr al-wasīt [Les Ribāt
côtiers ifriqiyens au Moyen Âge], Tunis, Publications du CERES, Série
« Histoire », n°9, 1999.
Gril, Denis, « Le corps du Prophète », in C. Mayeur-Jaouen et B. Heyberger, éd.,
Le corps et le sacré en Orient musulman, REMMM, 113-114, 2006, pp. 37-57.
Id., « Femme », in Mohammad Ali Amir-Moezzi, éd., Dictionnaire du Coran,
Paris, R. Laffont, 2007, pp. 338-343.
Id., « Le saint et le maître ou la sainteté comme science de l’homme », in Nelly
Amri et Denis Gril, éd., Saint et sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le
regard des sciences de l’homme, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, MMSH, 2007,
pp. 55-106.
Hasan, Mohamed, al-Madīna wa l-bādiya bi-Ifrīqīya fî l-‘ahd al-hafsī, Tunis,
Faculté des Sciences Humaines et Sociales, Série Histoire, vol. XXXII, 1999,
t. I et II.
Id., « Les Ribāt du Sahel d’Ifrīqīya. Peuplement et évolution du territoire au
Moyen Âge », in Castrum 7. Zones côtières littorales dans le monde
méditerranéen au Moyen Âge, Rome (Coll. Ecole française de Rome, vol.
105), Madrid (Casa de Velázquez), 2001, pp. 147-162.
al-Hifnī, ‘Abd al-Mun‘im, Mawsū‘at Umm al-mu’minīn, ‘Ā’isha bint Abī Bakr, Le
Caire, Maktabat Madbouli, 1ère éd, 2003.
Ibn ‘Arabī, Les Illuminations de La Mecque, Anthologie présentée par Michel
Chodkiewicz, avec la collaboration de Cyrille Chodkiewicz et Denis Gril,
Paris, Albin Michel, 1997.
Ismā‘īl Kāshif, Sayyida, Masādir al-tārīkh al-islāmī, Beyrouth, 1983.
Jadla, Ibrahim, al-Mujtama‘ al-hadarī bi-Ifrīqiya fî l-‘ahd al-hafsī, Thèse de 3e
Cycle, Faculté des Lettres de Tunis, 1988-89 (dactylographiée).
Kably, Mohamed, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc à la fin du « Moyen Âge »
(XIVe-XVe siècle), Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 1986.
Kahhāla, ‘Umar Ridā, Mu‘jam al-mu’allifīn, Damas, 1959.
Kaptein, Nico J. G., Muhammad’s Birthday festival. Early history in the Central
Muslim land and development in the Muslim West until the 10th/16th
Century, Leyde, Brill, 1993.
Lings, Martin, Le Prophète Muhammad. Sa vie d’après les sources les plus
anciennes, Paris, Seuil, 1986.
Mahfoudh, Mohammed, Tarājim al-mu’allifīn al-tūnusiyyīn, Beyrouth, Dār alGharb al-islāmī, 1984.
Marín, Manuela, « Exemplary women in early islam », in Kari E. Borresen, éd.,
Christian and Islamic Gender Models in formative traditions, Roma, Herder,
2004, pp. 149-162.
Id., « Images des femmes dans les sources hagiographiques maghrébines : les
mères et les épouses du saint », in N. Amri et D. Gril, éd., Saint et sainteté

392

PORTRAIT D’UN SAINT D’IFRĪQĪYA DANS SA FAMILLE

dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme, Paris,
Maisonneuve et Larose, MMSH, 2007, pp. 235-247.
Id., « Women and sainthood in medieval Morocco », in Sofia Boesch Gajano et
Enzo Pace, éd., Donne tra saperi e poteri nella storia delle religioni, Brescia,
Morcelliana, 2007, pp. 283-298.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, « Le saint musulman en père de famille », in N.
Amri et D. Gril, éd., Saint et sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le
regard des sciences de l’homme, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, MMSH, 2007,
pp. 249-267.
Merad, Ali, La Tradition musulmane, Paris, PUF, 2001.
Mernissi, Fatima, Le Harem politique. Le Prophète et les femmes, Paris, Albin
Michel, 1987.
Oualdi, M’hamed, Esclaves et maîtres. Les mamelouks des beys de Tunis du XVIIe
siècle aux années 1880, Paris, Publications de la Sorbonne, 2011.
Rouis, Mounir, al-Zawāj fī l-‘ahd al-hafsī, Thèse de Doctorat, Faculté des
Sciences Humaines et Sociales de Tunis, 1998-9 (dactylographiée).
Schimmel, Annemarie, Le Soufisme ou les dimensions mystiques de l’Islam, Paris,
Cerf, 1996.
Id., L’islam au féminin. La Femme dans la spiritualité musulmane, Paris, Albin
Michel, 2000.
Talbi, Mohammed, « Al-Mahdiyya », Enc. Islam 2, V, pp. 1236-1238.
al-Ziriklī, Khayr al-Dīn, al-A‘lām, Beyrouth, 7e éd., 1986.

393

Women and Kinship
in Medieval Moroccan Hagiography:
a Study of al-Bādisī’s al-Maqsad
al-sharīf (Eighth/Fourteenth Century)

Manuela Marín
The memory of sainthood in the Medieval Western Islamic lands has been
preserved by a rich hagiographical literature, whose Eastern precedents
were texts such as the Hilyat al-awliyā’ by Abū Nu‘aym al-Isfahānī (d. 430/
1038) or the Risāla by al-Qushayrī (written in 437/1045). Between the second
half of the sixth/twelfth century and the end of the eighth/fourteenth century, several similar texts were produced in Al-Andalus and the Maghrib
(followed by later works), configuring an extraordinary repository of knowledge on the development of sainthood and pious practices in these regions.
Islamic hagiographies usually place the saints in their historical and social context, so that the study of these texts throws light not only on the religious aspects of saints’ activities, but also on their connections with the
world in which they lived.1 Paramount among these connections are the
saints’ family ties, and especially, although not exclusively, their relationships with their wives and daughters. Women acquire, through the anecdotal yarns in which they appear, a significant role in the construction of the
saint’s ideal image, creating an exemplary tale deserving to be imitated by
the audience of the hagiographical literature.
Beyond the projection of this “ideal” image, however, it is possible to detect, in many of the recorded stories related to women and family ties, the
true character of the relationships involving the saints and their kinship
circle. To some extent, the examination of these relationships can be used to
gain a better understanding of the society in which saints lived and were
active, as they followed the general patterns of marriage, parenthood and
kinship prevalent in this society. In fact, hagiographical texts are among the
few medieval sources that offer information on these kinds of subjects,
which are usually discarded by historical chronicles and other similar works.
In what follows, the study of women and kinship in the saints’ entour1

As an example, see Mohamed Cherif, “Quelques aspects de la vie quotidienne des
soufis andalous d’après un texte hagiographique inédit du XII e siècle,” Al-AndalusMagreb. Estudios Árabes e Islámicos, IV, 1996, pp. 63-79.

394

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

age will focus on the contents of one of the Maghribi hagiographical texts
written in the eighth/fourteenth century. The choice of this particular work,
as will be explained below, lies in its character as a portrait of sainthood in
the Moroccan northern coastal region, and in the importance of family relationships, as described by its author, in the world of piety and sainthood.

The Author and his Historical Context
The city of Bādis, located on the Mediterranean coast of Morocco, was
gradually abandoned by its inhabitants after Ceuta was conquered by the
Portuguese in 1415 and the Spaniards established themselves in Melilla
(1497) and the Peñón de Vélez (1508), a rocky island situated near the coast
and in front of Bādis. The Iberian pressure on the Northern Moroccan ports
in the Mediterranean put an end to the prosperity of Bādis, and today only
scant archaeological remains attest to the presence of what was a thriving
commercial port during the Middle Ages, especially under the reign of the
Merinid sultans of Morocco (thirteenth-fourteenth centuries). 2
As Halima Ferhat has pointed out, 3 there exist only two Arabic sources,
written roughly at the same period, containing historical and sociological
data about Bādis: the Tarjama (“autobiography”) of Abū Ya‘qūb al-Bādisī,
and the hagiographic text by ‘Abd al-Haqq b. Ismā‘īl al-Bādisī (d. after 722/
1322-23), al-Maqsad al-sharīf wa-l-manza‘ al-latīf fi l-ta‘rīf bi-sulahā’ al-Rīf.4
2

3
4

On the history of Bādis, see Georges S. Colin, “Bādis,” Enc. Islam 2, I, pp. 859-860.; C.
Agabi, “Bâdis (ville du Rif),” Encyclopédie Berbère, IX, Aix-en-Provence, Edisud, 1991,
p. 1303, and Halima Ferhat, “Bādis,” Ma‘lamat al-Maghrib, III, Rabat, Al-Jam‘īya alMaghribīya li-l-Ta‘līf wa-l-Tarjama wa-l-Nashr, 1984, pp. 965-969. For the archeological setting, see Patrice Cressier, “Le développement urbain des côtes septentrionales du Maroc au Moyen Âge : frontière intérieure et frontière extérieure,”
Castrum 4. Frontière et peuplement dans le monde méditerranéen au Moyen Âge, Madrid-Rome, Casa de Velázquez-École Française de Rome, 1992, pp. 173-187; Patrice
Cressier, Mustapha Naïmi and Abd el-Aziz Touri, “Maroc saharien et Maroc méditerranéen au Moyen Âge : les cas des ports de Nul Lamta et de Badis,” Afrique du
Nord antique et médiévale. Spectacle, vie portuaire, religions, Paris, Comité des
travaux historiques et scientifiques, 1992, pp. 393-407; Abdelatif El Boudjay, “Prospection d’archéologie médiévale dans la vallée de Beni Broufah (Rif central, Maroc).
Premiers résultats,” Mélanges de la Casa de Velázquez, 32, 1996, pp. 319-334, and
Patrice Cressier, Abdelatif El Boudjay, Larbi Erbati and Ahmed Siraj, “La forteresse
du mont Abba à Badîs [sic] : une râbita médiévale ?,” Mil Anos de Fortificaçoes na
Peninsula Ibérica e no Magreb (500-1500), Lisboa, Ediçoes Colibri, 2001, pp. 273-281.
H. Ferhat, “Bādis,” p. 965.
Edited by Sa‘īd Ahmad A‘rāb, Rabat, Al-Matba‘a al-Malakīya, 1982. The text was
translated into French, with copious annotation, by Georges S. Colin, “El Maqsad
(Vies des saints du Rif) de ‘Abd el-Haqq el-Bâdis,” Archives Marocaines, XXVI, 1926.
Edition and translation do not always coincide; the text translated by Colin is occa-

395

MANUELA MARÍN

In his preface to this work, al-Bādisī explained what had motivated him
to write a history of the saints of the Rif. As he says, nearly a century be fore, Ibn al-Zayyāt al-Tādilī (d. 617/1220-21) had composed his famous work
on Maghribi saints, al-Tashawwuf ilā rijāl al-tasawwuf, soon to became one
of the most significant contributions to the long history of Maghribian hagiographic literature.5 But to the annoyance of al-Bādisī, the author of the
Tashawwuf did not pay any attention to the saints who had flourished in the
Rif, al-Bādisī’s region of origins and residence. He obviously resented this
omission, and decided to redress the situation by writing an answer to alTādilī, to demonstrate the quality and abundance of sainthood manifestations in the Rif.6
It is tempting to see a declaration of regional pride and identity in the
way al-Bādisī introduces his subject to the reader, the more so as the Rif was
– and is – a predominantly Berber country. But this would probably be an
anachronistic approach to the text, reflecting later debates on Moroccan collective identities. What is evident is that al-Bādisī had a clear-cut awareness
of the Rif as a geographical space encompassing all the Northern Moroccan
areas between Ceuta in the West and Tlemcen in the East. 7 Al-Bādisī’s hometown, Bādis, is however the main focus of his attention, as all the saints
mentioned in his work were born in the city or were somehow related to it. 8
Moreover, a distinct characteristic of the Maqsad is the decisive importance
of kinship and family ties in the construction of the saints’ memory. Thus it
could have been observed that all the informants of al-Bādisī are not only
inhabitants of Bādis, but also belong to the same family network and that

5

6
7
8

sionally richer in details than the edition. Here the quotations of al-Maqsad will refer to the Arabic edited text, followed in some instances by reference to the translation
See Halima Ferhat and Hamid Triki, “Hagiographie et religion au Maroc médiéval,”
Hespéris Tamuda, XXIV, 1986, pp. 17-51; Halima Ferhat, “L’évolution de l’écriture
hagiographique entre les XIIème et XIVème siècles au Maroc,” in id., Le Maghreb
aux XIIème et XIIIème siècles : les siècles de la foi, Casablanca, Wallada, 1993, pp. 1328; Juan José Sánchez Sandoval, “La literatura hagiográfica en el Magreb occidental,”
Al-Andalus-Magreb, VIII-IX, 2000-2001, pp. 11-35, and Rachid El Hour, Las sociedades
del Magreb y al-Andalus (siglos XI-XIV). Una mirada desde las fuentes hagiográficas,
Rabat, Bouregreg, 2010.
Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, pp. 14-15.
Ibid., p. 15.
The only exception is the biography of an Andalusi saint, Abū Marwān al-Yuhānisī.
See on him the hagiographic work written by his relative, Ahmad al-Qashtalī, Tuhfat al-mughtarib bi-bilād al-Magrib, ed. F. de la Granja, Madrid, Instituto Egipcio de
Estudios Islámicos, 1974 (transl. into Spanish by Bárbara Boloix, Prodigios del
maestro sufí Abu Marwan al-Yuhanisi de Almería, Madrid, Mandala, 2010).

396

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

they are related, more or less distantly, to al-Bādisī himself. Several of these
individuals are indeed considered saints by al-Bādisī, who included their
biographies in his work.9
In his portrait of this family network, scattered throughout the Maqsad,
al-Bādisī established some significant facts about himself and his ancestors.
He claims to belong to a prestigious lineage of Arabic origin; when writing
about his grandfather, Ahmad b. Muhammad b. al-Khidr, al-Bādisī asserts
that Ahmad’s genealogy went back to Qays b. Sa‘d b. ‘Ubāda al-Khazrajī,
whose father, Sa‘d, was a Companion of the Prophet. 10 To the appellative
“al-Khazrajī,” derived from this connection, al-Bādisī adds, on another occasion, that of “al-Gharnātī,”11 thus somehow linking his grandfather to the
royal family ruling over the kingdom of Granada (Gharnāta) in al-Andalus,
who also claimed a khazrajī ancestry.12
Al-Bādisī’s grandfather held two of the most important public functions
in any Islamic city. He was preacher and conductor of the communal prayer
in the main mosque of Bādis, as had been the case for his paternal uncle, his
namesake Ahmad b. Muhammad b. al-Khidr. Al-Bādisī’s father was a judge
and taught in the same mosque. 13 This was clearly a family of Islamic scholars (‘ulamā’), and although information on al-Bādisī’s biography is scarce,
his own work reveals that he had received an excellent education in Islamic
sciences, not only in Bādis but in the capital city of Fes, and that he had also
visited Ceuta.14
All this places al-Bādisī’s family at the core of the urban elite of Bādis,
where for three (at least) generations their members occupied a privileged
space in the administration of the community affairs. The family was also
probably engaged in some of the productive trade connecting Bādis with its
Moroccan hinterland and with al-Andalus, an occupation frequently alluded
9
10
11
12

J. J. Sánchez Sandoval, “La literatura hagiográfica en el Magreb occidental,” p. 31.
Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 126.
Ibid., p. 71.
See José Miguel Puerta Vílchez, Los códigos de utopía de la Alhambra de Granada,
Granada, Diputacion Provincial de Granada, 1990, pp. 117-118; Bárbara Boloix, De la
taifa de Arjona al reino nazarí de Granada (1232-1246). En torno a los orígenes de un
estado y de una dinastía, Jaén, Instituto de Estudios Giennenses, 2005, pp. 85-118;
María Jesús Rubiera, “El califato nazarí,” Al-Qantara, XXIX, 2008, pp. 293-305,
especially pp. 297-298; and Antonio Peláez Rovira, El emirato nazarí de Granada en
el siglo XV. Dinámica política y fundamentos sociales de un estado andalusí, Granada,
Universidad de Granada, 2009, pp. 343-344.
13 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 126. See also G. S. Colin, “El Maqsad (Vies des saints du Rif),”
p. 3.
14 J. J. Sánchez Sandoval, “La literatura hagiográfica en el Magreb occidental,” pp. 30-31.

397

MANUELA MARÍN

to in the text of al-Maqsad and often pursued by scholars and other members of the religious establishment in Islamic cities. 15
Through the 48 biographies of al-Maqsad, al-Bādisī manages to offer a
significant picture of the multifarious aspects of his city’s society – probably
unwittingly, as this was not his purpose when he began the task of recording local hagiographies. Al-Maqsad is, indeed, an invaluable source for the
religious life of Bādis, but in recording the deeds of the city’s saints, its author did not discard a great number of small details related to the circumstances surrounding their pious actions. To name but a few of the more significant topics in this respect, al-Maqsad yields interesting data on the commercial relations between Bādis and al-Andalus, 16 the coastal routes around
Bādis, Berber personal and place names, 17 captivity, Christian attacks on the
Moroccan shores,18 etc. Many of these topics – and others as well – will appear in the texts related to women and kinship, to be examined below.
A final note on the author and his work is in order. Al-Bādisī rarely
quotes other written authorities; his main sources are oral, and he dutifully
notes the names of his informants and the circumstances in which he recorded what they were telling him. Moreover, he was personally involved in
some of the narratives included in al-Maqsad. This intense presence of orality in al-Bādisī’s work makes of it a remarkable historiographical testimony,
allowing its readers to glimpse at the shared memory of a Moroccan medieval city as Bādis was.

15 Manuela Marín, “Biographical Dictionaries and Social History of al-Andalus: Trade
and Scholarship,” Scripta Mediterranea, XIX-XX, 1998-99, pp. 239-257 and “Los ulemas en la sociedad andalusí. Riqueza y saber,” in M. M. Delgado Pérez and G. López
Anguita, eds., Actas del Congreso Conocer al-Andalus. Perspectivas desde el siglo XXI,
Sevilla, Alfar, 2010, pp. 125-141.
16 P. Cressier, “Le développement urbain des côtes septentrionales du Maroc au Moyen
Âge,” p. 177.
17 See another example of this subject in Mohamed Meouak, “Langue et toponymie
berbères dans les sources hagiographiques du Maghreb médiéval : l’exemple des
Da‘âmat al-yaqîn fi za‘âmat al-muttaqîn d’al-‘Azafî (m. 633/1236),” Rocznik Orientalistyczny, LXI, 2008, pp. 56-72.
18 Some of the data from al-Bādisī have been incorporated to the study by Mohamed
Cherif, “Quand les saints protègent les pèlerins en Méditérranée medieval,”
Arqueologia Medieval, 9, 2005, pp. 5-12. See also Bernard Rosenberger, “Ports médiévaux de la côte méditerranéenne du Maroc. Guerre et commerce,” Arqueologia
Medieval, 9, 2005, pp. 21-40, focused mainly on Ceuta.

398

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

Saints, Women and Family Relationships
With some exceptions, Islamic hagiographical works do not usually allow a
specific space for women.19 It is not therefore surprising to verify that no
biography of a woman saint is recorded in al-Maqsad (the only medieval
Moroccan source including this kind of texts is the one by Ibn Zayyāt alTādilī, and its number is minimal by comparison to the biographies of male
saints). As in other sources of the same character, al-Bādisī seems to ignore
the individuality of pious women, not to speak of saints. The only reference
to a woman saint (sāliha) in al-Maqsad is of a casual nature: in the biography of ‘Imrān Amsāl, one of al-Bādisī informants explains how pious
men used to gather during the night of Ramadān 27 (laylat al-qadr), and
during the celebrations of ‘āshūrā’ (the tenth of Muharram) 20 in a hermitage
(rābita) founded by a pious woman called Umm al-Yumn. Nothing more is
said in the text about this woman, mentioned by chance by al-Bādisī’s informant. But if the identification of Umm al-Yumn by Colin 21 is right, she
played an important role in the political relationships between the Rif and
the Merinid sultanate, besides having attained, by her own merits, a place in
the universe of Moroccan sainthood. It is surprising that al-Bādisī did not
elaborate on the subject of Umm al-Yumn, leading us to suppose that, by his

19 Michel Chodkiewicz, “La sainteté féminine dans l’hagiographie islamique,” in Denise
Aigle, ed., Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 99-115. See also Nelly Amri,
“Les sâlihât du Ve au IXe siècle/XIe-XVe siècle dans la mémoire maghrébine de la
sainteté à travers quatre documents hagiographiques,” Al-Qantara, XXI, 2000,
pp. 481-509, and M. Marín, “Women and Sainthood in Medieval Morocco,” in Sofia
Boesch Gajano and Enzo Pace, eds., Donne tra saperi e poteri nella storia delle religioni, Brescia, Morcelliana, 2007, pp. 283-298.
20 Although the ‘āshūrā’ is usually considered to be a Shi‘ite commemoration, it was
also celebrated by Sunnites; see Maribel Fierro, “The celebration of ‘Ashura’ in Sunni
Islam,” Proceedings of the 14th Congress of the Union européenne des arabisants et islamisants, Budapest, Eötvös Loránd University Chair for Arabic Studies, 1995, I,
pp. 193-208.
21 Basing himself on other sources, G. S. Colin, “El Maqsad (Vies des saints du Rif),” p.
80, identifies this woman as Umm el-Yumn, daughter of Mahlī al-Battiwī, who was
the ancestor of the Aulād Mahli in Tāfarsīt. Umm al-Yumn married the Marinid sultan ‘Abd al-Haqq b. Mahyū, and was the mother of the sultan Abū Yūsuf Ya‘qūb b.
‘Abd al-Haqq (born in 609/1212). According to the sources used by Colin, Umm alYumn was a saintly woman who died in Egypt in 653/1255, on her way to Mecca for
her second pilgrimage. See also Vincent Cornell, Realm of the saint. Power and Authority in Moroccan Sufism, Austin, University of Texas Press, 1998, pp. 129-130. P.
Cressier et al., “La forteresse du mont Abba,” p. 277, propose the identification of
this rābita with the site of Lalla Mimūna, in Busikūr.

399

MANUELA MARÍN

time, the memory of this woman was lost in the Rif and it was only kept
through the hermitage she had founded in her life-time.
Women, however, are present in the Maqsad in a variety of sainthood –
and kinship – connected situations. Perhaps one of the most noteworthy is
their activity as keepers of the family memory and traditions. Although this
is not a peculiarity of al-Bādisī’s work, as it may be found in many other hagiographical texts, in al-Maqsad this function puts women at the same level
as men, especially when we remember that most of the data gathered by alBādisī comes from oral sources.
There are five cases in the Maqsad of women informants, all belonging
to saints’ families. Two of them pass on information on Abū Dāwūd Muzāhim b. ‘Alī (d. 578/1182-1183), a saint of Berber descent and disciple of the
renowned mystic Abū Madyan,22 to al-Bādisī’s own informant, called Abū
‘Uqayl, himself a great-great-grandson of Abū Dāwūd. The first of these two
women was, according to Abū ‘Uqayl, “a shaykha from my family, who was
also one of my neighbours.”23 It is noteworthy that immediately after that,
Abū ‘Uqayl quotes his grandfather as conveyor of the same information
provided by the shaykha, thus giving the same value to both testimonials.
The second woman informing Abū ‘Uqayl on Abū Dāwūd was her
grandmother, Sitt al-banāt. In this case, she is the only informant quoted,
and her authority is accepted without referring to another male witnesses.
Equally interesting is the fact that, in contrast to the usual anonymity of
women in hagiographical sources, her name is recorded.24
Wives were equally a good source of information on their saintly husbands, because they had access to their private and most intimate actions.
The Maqsad contains a good example of this role of married women as witnesses of saintly deeds in the biography of ‘Alī b. Makhūkh al-Tūzinī, whom
al-Bādisī knew personally. Trying to ascertain whether the alleged fast of
seven to eight days practiced by al-Tūzinī was indeed true, al-Bādisī asked
al-Tūzinī’s wife, who confirmed the fact. 25 A similar case is that of al-Hājj
See Halima Ferhat, “Un maître de la mystique maghrébine au XIIe siècle : Abu
Madyan de Tlemcen,” Les siècles de la foi, Casablanca, Wallada, 1993, pp. 55-78, and
Vincent Cornell, The Way of Abū Madyan, Cambridge, The Islamic Texts Society,
1996.
23 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 51.
24 Ibid., p. 54. This name could also have been a nickname describing her as the mother
of many daughters. Another possibility, as suggested by Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen,
is that this woman could have been a teacher for girls and women in religious matters.
25 Ibid., p. 116. This woman is identified by her genealogy, being a daughter of ‘Alī b.
22

400

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

Ibrāhīm b. ‘Īsā b. Abī Dāwūd (d. 650/1252-53), whose wife told her grand child, the abovementioned Abū ‘Uqayl, how he survived 70 days eating only
a fig a day.26
But the most important woman informant in al-Maqsad was a member
of al-Bādisī’s family, his paternal aunt Zaynab bint Ahmad. On the first occasion,27 Zaynab is quoted describing vividly to al-Bādisī an event of her
family life, and the role played in it by her parents – more on this later on.
Her second appearance in the Maqsad gives Zaynab a different and more
suggestive role. She is qualified by her nephew, al-Bādisī, as an aged and
trustworthy lady, and a “keeper and transmitter of news” (rāwiyat al-akhbār).28 As such, Zaynab is the main informant regarding her father, Ahmad,
for the biography contained in the Maqsad. She recounts different events
from her father’s life, his religious attitudes and the circumstances surrounding his death. The last is perhaps the most interesting notice transmitted by Zaynab: one night her father awoke her mother to inform her that he
had just seen the Prophet and Abū Bakr, who was combing his hair with his
hands while the Prophet poured water over his head. This, said Zaynab’s
father to her mother, means that my last purification from the world is soon
to be done. In the morning he made his ablutions and he died the following
week, concluded Zaynab.
This and the other events recounted by Zaynab have the sound of an
eyewitness, although the talk between her parents was probably transmitted
to her by her mother. This lady was the second wife of Ahmad b. Muhammad, as Zaynab tells in the first part of her account. This is how she describes her immediate family: “The lawyer (faqīh) Ahmad [Zaynab’s father],
married his paternal cousin, who was the mother of the lawyer Hayyūn and
that of Ibrāhīm. When this woman died, Ahmad married my mother, Safīya
bt. Satr b. Mas‘ūd al-Yasfīya.29 She was the mother of Muhammad, my own
mother and that of Ismā‘īl [al-Bādisī’s father], who was the youngest of all.
When my father died, Ismā‘īl, who was around a year old, was still being
breast-fed. My father died in 615 [1218-19], and Ismā‘īl was born in 614

26
27
28
29

‘Imrān al-Mutalasīya (Arabic edition) / al-Batalisa (Colin, “El Maqsad (Vies des saints
du Rif),” p. 115).
Ibid., p. 61.
Ibid., p. 71.
Ibid., p. 127.
Ibid., p. 127; Colin, “El Maqsad (Vies des saints du Rif),” p. 129: bt. Bishr ibn el
Maimūn la yasgafide.

401

MANUELA MARÍN

[1217–1218]. The oldest of us all was the lawyer Hayyūn, followed by Ibrāhīm, me, Muhammad and Ismā‘īl.”30
Asserting her own position in the family as the only female among
Ahmad’s children and the oldest by his second marriage put Zaynab in a position of authority for her transmissions to her nephew and other members
of her kinship network. To some extent she seems to be the guardian of the
family’s memory, centred upon the figure of her saint father, but taking into
account other family links. Zaynab appears, in this context, as the keeper of
the genealogical tradition, and it is to her that other members of the family
would refer to know about it.31 Kinship and sainthood are narrowly connected in Zaynab’s account of her father’s life.

Wives to the Saints: Everyday Life in Bādis
Hagiographical literature pays usually more attention to saints’ wives than
to other female members of their families, and the Maqsad is no exception to
this rule.32 Women married to saints appear in al-Bādisī’s work in two kinds
of situations: first, fulfilling their roles as wives and housewives, in a context in which sainthood could sometimes add strain to their daily chores and
obligations, and secondly, as participants, willingly or unwillingly, in the
manifestations of the saints’ miraculous powers. The former possibility will
be examined now.
A peculiar scene is described in the Maqsad when the saint Abū Dāwūd,
already mentioned, was seen one day sitting in the sun, while some part ridges were picking lice from his clothes. Abū Dāwūd’s wife then asked him
to give her one of the partridges, but her husband answered jokingly: “I do
not give any of my partridges!”33
The purpose of recording this apparently trivial account was probably
to show how the saint was served by animals, or how these animals recognized the saint’s qualities and helped him in the humble task they were performing.34 But the presence of the saint’s wife somehow disturbs the scene;
30 Ibid., p. 127.
31 M. J. Rubiera, “El califato nazarí,” p. 298, alludes to the nasrid Princess Fātima bt. alAhmar, who was an expert genealogist.
32 M. Marín, “Images des femmes dans les sources hagiographiques maghrébines : les
mères et les épouses du saint,” in Nelly Amri and Denis Gril, eds., Saint et sainteté
dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme, Paris, Maisonneuve
et Larose, 2007, pp. 235-247.
33 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 52.
34 Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, “Miracles des saints musulmans et règne animal,” in
Denise Aigle, ed., Miracle et karâma. Hagiographies médiévales comparées, Turnhout,

402

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

she does not recognize its hidden meaning and requests to be given one of
the partridges. This is a rather common pattern in hagiographical literature,
where wives are often portrayed as ignorant of their husbands’ miraculous
powers and even hindering their spiritual aspirations. But the scene can be
interpreted, from the point of view of the wife, quite differently, and hints at
the difficulties experienced by women in feeding their families while the
husbands-saints devoted their time to their spiritual perfection.
A similar theme is more developed in the account by Zaynab bint Ahmad mentioned above. The wording of the story is clearly that of somebody
who is remembering what she saw and heard personally, and its moral cannot hide the sound of authenticity it bears: “One night we were sleeping in
our home when somebody knocked on the door in the middle of the night.
My father, Ahmad, went out, opened the door and then came and told my
mother: get up and get food ready, because the man who has arrived is the
Hājj Sa‘īd al-Mistāsī, and he is one of the great saints (awliyā’). But my
mother answered back, “everyone who comes to visit you says he is a saint
(walī)! I am not doing anything for him.” Zaynab continued, “barley was all
we had. The shaykh my father lit the fire, heated the barley and ground it, to
make an ‘asīda.35 When my father offered it to his visitor, he exclaimed,
‘Abū l-‘Abbās, do you not know that 30 years ago I made a pledge to forbear
from eating cooked food (ta‘ām)? I cannot break the promise I made to myself.’”36
In contrast to the humble behaviour of Ahmad, who does not hesitate in
complying with the “feminine” tasks of grinding and heating the barley, his
wife appears, according to her own daughter’s account, as a selfish woman
who does not equal the higher spiritual position of her husband. But the
reader of this story may also understand the woman’s reaction as that of an
Brepols, 2000, pp. 577-606, and Mohammed Hocine Benkheira, Catherine MayeurJaouen and Jacqueline Sublet, L’animal en islam, Paris, Les Indes Savantes, 2005.
35 On the consumption of barley and foodstuff made from barley among Maghribian
ascetics and saints, see Rachid El Hour, “La alimentación de los sufíes-santos en las
fuentes hagiográficas magrebíes. El caso de Marruecos,” in Manuela Marín and
Cristina de la Puente, eds., El banquete de las palabras: la alimentación en los textos
árabes, Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2005, pp. 207-239
(where reference is made to this text from the Maqsad). The ‘asīda is a traditional
Arab recipe, in which ground barley is heated and mixed with grease and a liquid.
See also M. Marín, “Images des femmes dans les sources hagiographiques maghrébines,” pp. 241-242.
36 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 71. On the meaning of ta‘ām as “cooked food”, see Colin, “El
Maqsad (Vies des saints du Rif),” p. 175, note 85.

403

MANUELA MARÍN

exhausted housewife, harassed by the excessive demands of her husband’s
hospitality.
Also within the family circle of al-Bādisī, his father’s behaviour in a domestic matter illustrates the potential conflict between a husband’s strict religious attitude and housewives’ concerns. Ismā‘īl, al-Bādisī’s father, once
saw sparks of fire underneath an overturned dish. When he asked his wife
what was under the dish, she informed him that it was meat from the wedding feast of one Muhammad b. Ja‘far. As Muhammad b. Ja‘far’s people were
considered to be oppressors and unjust, Ismā‘īl ordered one of his maid servants to throw out the meat onto the street, thus depriving his family of a
gift gladly accepted by his wife.37
This kind of tension in married life is well exemplified in another story recorded by al-Bādisī, which takes place around the rābita of Umm al-Yumn.
Zakarīyā’ b. Yahyā, a pious shaykh from Bādis, was about to go there to meet
his companions in religious life, when his wife asked him to take some fodder
to their calf before going to the rābita. Zakarīyā’ refused to comply with her
wife’s wish, arguing that the meeting in the hermitage was much more important than feeding the calf. However, once in the rābita, he heard the
shaykh ‘Imrān Amsūl saying: “The wife of one of you had asked him to feed
their calf, and he had answered that his motives for going out were of more
[religious] merit than feeding a calf. But he does not know; perhaps cutting
grass for the calf is more praiseworthy than what made him go out.”38
Rābitas played an important role in the religious life of Bādis and its surrounding areas. Places destined, as we have seen, to hold the collective
meetings of the pious, they also served as residence, permanent or temporary, for the most ascetically inclined among them. 39 Originally, the ribāt or
rābita had a military function, as part of the defence of the Islamic frontiers.
Although they soon became exclusively religious institutions, they still preserved the tradition of being located in isolated places, near to areas of potential conflict with Islam’s enemies. 40 Bādis was one such place, and not
37 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 132. On saints’ attitudes towards goods from illicit origins, see
Nelly Amri, Les saints en Islam: les messagers de l’espérance. Sainteté et eschatologie
au Maghreb aux XIVe et XVe siècles, Paris, Cerf, 2008, pp. 105-110.
38 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 92.
39 See Francisco Franco Sánchez and Míkel de Epalza, eds., La rábita en el islam.
Estudios interdisciplinares, Sant Carles de la Ràpita, Universidad de Alicante, 2004
40 Georges Marçais, “Note sur les ribats en Berbérie,” Mélanges d’Histoire et d’Archéologie de l’Occident musulman, Alger, Impr. officielle du Gouvernement général de l’Algérie, 1957, I, pp. 23-36.

404

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

surprisingly, the Maqsad contains many references to rābitas.41 One of them
is of particular interest here, as it shows the kind of dangers threatening the
rābita’s dwellers, women among them.
We have already met al-Hājj Ibrāhīm, who nourished himself with only
a fig a day, as his wife told her grandchild, Abū ‘Uqayl. The same Abū
‘Uqayl told al-Bādisī how his grandfather took residence near a rābita in the
seashore, following the example of his own father. Abū ‘Uqayl was then a
child, in the custody of al-Hājj Ibrāhīm, and he describes accurately the setting of the house where the family lived. Near it, he says, there was a freshwater spring, where Christians (nasārā) would go from their ships to fetch
water. “One day my grandmother went to the seashore to bring water from
the spring, and she found there a shield belonging to one of the Christians
of the sea (nasārā l-bahr).”42 To show how his grandfather’s sainthood protected the household against attacks from the sea, Abū ‘Uqayl states that he
and his family were always safe from this threat, because Christian warriors
were never able to reach his grandfather’s residence. But the discovery of
the shield by a lone woman was proof enough of the vulnerability of living
in such a place, and the dangers menacing the inhabitants of the seashore.
Women were particularly exposed in this respect.
Prominent among these dangers was the risk of being captured by
Christians and then sold as a slave. As the Iberian pressure on North Moroccan coast increased, captivity became a fairly common occurrence in the
lives of people in Bādis, as documented by al-Maqsad. Attacks on small villages near the coast were a source of loot and of men, women and children
to be enslaved. It should be added that due to the harsh orography of the
coastal regions, people used to travel by sea rather than by land routes, a
prospect which entailed further risk of capture.43
One case of women captives involved the family of al-Bādisī, eyewitness
41 See, for instance, al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 106, on the economic supports of life in the
rābita.
42 Ibid., p. 60.
43 Ibid., p. 98, on the journey of Abū l-‘Abbās al-Nāhid with his family and women,
from Fez to Ceuta, taking the sea route from Bādis and being stopped in Tārjā by
bad weather. On the conditions of sea travel and its dangers, see Lawrence I. Conrad, “Islam and the sea: paradigms and problematics,” Al-Qantara, XXIII, 2002, pp.
123-154, especially pp.150-152. On Muslims captured at sea in the mid-fourteenth
century, Manuel Sánchez Martínez, “Comercio nazarí y piratería catalano-aragonesa
(1344-1345),” in Mercedes García-Arenal and María Jesús Viguera, eds., Relaciones de
la Península ibérica con el Magreb (siglos XIII-XV), Madrid, Consejo Superior de
Investigaciones Científicas, 1988, pp. 41-86.

405

MANUELA MARÍN

to the facts he recounted in the Maqsad. His father, Ismā‘īl, wished to travel
to Tijīsās, near Tetuan, and sent his family from Bādis in a fishing ship ( zawraq sayd). A party of Christians seized the boat in the harbour of Yālīsh,
about seven kilometres to the west of Bādis. 44 Among the captives there
were the wife of Ismā‘īl and their small daughter, as well as another girl, a
daughter of Ismā‘īl and al-Bādisī’s mother.
As soon as this became known, Ismā‘īl took measures to pay a ransom
to the captors of his womenfolk, addressing a petition to this effect to the
sultan. Although he also received the help of the Berber saint Ishāq b. Matar,
who was able to gather, in a nearly miraculous way, up to 26 dinars, this
sum was far from being enough. It was thanks to the money awarded by the
sultan that Ismā‘īl could pay the 230 gold dinars finally agreed upon with
the Christians. Ismā‘īl’s wife and two daughters were brought to Kudyat
Gassāsa, near Melilla, where they were reunited with their father and husband and with al-Bādisī himself.45
Not all the captivity stories would have had this happy end, and not
everybody subjected to enslavement could attain the sultan’s favor to receive from him the high sums involved in the payment of ransoms. 46 The account by al-Bādisī shows, however, to what extent captivity was a permanent threat to the inhabitants of the coastal towns, and how it affected all
kind of social groups. The text does not say how long it took to get the
money ready for the ransom, but it would not have been a swift affair. In
the meantime, and in their own interest to get paid, the captors would have
treated respectfully their women captives, something that probably was not
the case with destitute women or those without a kin network ready to support them.47
All these stories show different aspects of women’s lives and how their
everyday activities were affected by their being members of saints’ families.
But sainthood is only one of several topics intertwined in these narratives,
which display a usually hidden view of household life, as well as of dangers
threatening women – and men – in their travels from and to Bādis. The
44 Today Qal‘at Īrīs. See A. El Boudjay, “Prospection d’archéologie medievale,” pp. 324326.
45 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, pp. 111-112.
46 See H. Ferhat, “Bādis,” p. 967, on how the population of places as far away as Ceuta
were asked to contribute to these payments.
47 For a later period, see on the captivity of Muslim women in the Mediterranean Nabil
Matar, Europe Through Arab Eyes 1578-1727, New York, Columbia University Press,
2009, pp. 60-65.

406

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

stories were obviously preserved as part of the memory of the saints’ lives,
but they also serve as testimonials of their womenfolk’s role within the kin ship network and, incidentally, of these women’s actions and reactions.

Women and Miracles
Saints’ lives are rich in miracles related to women, usually in relationship to
their bodily functions (pregnancy, childbirth, illness), their housework or
their role as mothers and wives. To some extent, then, it can be said that
these are heavily gendered miracles, reproducing at the supernatural level
the accepted individual and social roles of women.
Several miracles recorded in the Maqsad follow this well-trodden path.
Muhammad al-Yastītanī was an ascetic who had renounced any worldly
pleasure and had never married. He had left his village, Yastītan, and established himself in Jabal Banī ‘Īsā, from where his fame of sainthood spread to
neighbouring regions. A man from Bādis found himself in a difficult situation: his wife was about to give birth and as he was penniless he could not
afford to pay for the ensuing celebrations. He then decided to visit alYastītanī and ask him for a goat and wheat. When he arrived in the presence
of the saint, al-Yastītanī, without previous knowledge of the Bādisī’s needs,
48
ordered two men to give him a goat and 40 dirhams to buy wheat.
Two other vignettes show women working at tasks usually ascribed to
them in the family house or outside it. ‘Azīza was the daughter-in-law of
Abū Dāwūd (and mother of the Hājj Ibrāhīm already mentioned). When she
was old and feeble, the only work she could do without difficulty was grinding the grain. This, she explained, was because shortly after her marriage
she was grinding the family grain when Abū Dāwūd happened to pass by.
The saint stopped and put his hand over the milling tool used by ‘Azīza.
From this moment on, she said, she could grind as much as she wanted
49
without feeling tired.
In a second sketch, the theme of the saint miraculously helping a woman at work is intertwined with a classical motif in hagiographical literature, that of the subjugation of lions by saints. The grandmother of the informant, wife to the Berber saint ‘Abdūn b. Ykhlaftan b. ‘Alī al-Baqqūyī, ex plained to her grandchild how she used to go to the countryside to collect

48 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 87. See other miracles related to childbirth in M. Marín, “Women and sainthood in Morocco,” pp. 289-290.
49 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 54.

407

MANUELA MARÍN

great bundles of wood. Her husband would meet her, putting the wood on
50
the back of a lion that then carried it to their home.
In one of the most frequent miracles centered on a woman, a saint is
asked to liberate a captive by the captive’s mother. The subject has a long
tradition in Western Islamic lands and specially in al-Andalus, where in the
51
early period of its Islamic history it was attributed to several pious figures.
These Andalusi texts have a marked legendary and miraculous character,
while the story recorded in the Maqsad shows how a real event can be interpreted as the manifestation of the supernatural powers of the saint. In fact,
the account by al-Bādisī is based on an eyewitness to what happened, together with the whole population of his hometown (khāss wa-‘āmm).
The main characters of the tale, as recorded by al-Bādisī, are the saint
Abū Ya‘qūb Ibn al-Shaffāf, originally a member of a patrician family in Qasr
Kutāma (now al-Qasr al-Kabīr, Alcazarquivir), and an anonymous widow,
mother of two sons. The elder was a sailor who was captured at sea, near
Bādis, by the Christians. The same day of her son’s capture, the woman
went to see Abū Ya‘qūb accompanied by her youngest son, who was still a
child, and asked the saint to intercede before God on behalf of her family,
now left in dire circumstances with the forced absence of its breadwinner.
Abū Ya‘qūb fondled the child’s head and told him: “your brother will be
back”. This same evening, the inhabitants of Bādis were called to come to
Yālīsh, where the boat (sullūra) of the Christians had sunk. The Muslim captives, including the widow’s son, were then able to come back to Bādis.
When asked what had happened, they explained that the Christians had
taken the boat to grease it on the rocky islet in front of Yālīsh, but when
they put the boat to sea again a great wave hit it and caused it to collapse
and sink, allowing the captives to escape to the nearby seashore. The happy
50 Ibid., p. 128. See C. Mayeur-Jaouen, “Miracles des saints musulmans et règne
animal,” p. 582. Lions were found in Morocco up to the middle of the nineteenth
century; see Ángel Cabrera, “Cuestiones de zoología africana. Los leones de
Marruecos,” Revista Hispano Africana, IV, febrero 1925, pp. 11-12. Carrying great
bundles of wood has been – and still is – a woman’s job in Northern Morocco, and
such an image played an important role in colonial depictions of Moroccan society
(see Manuela Marín, “Mujeres, burros y cargas de leña: imágenes de la opresión en
la literatura española de viajes sobre Marruecos,” in Fernando Rodríguez Mediano
and Helena de Felipe, eds., El protectorado español en Marruecos. Gestión colonial e
identidades, Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2002, pp. 85110).
51 Ibn Bashkuwāl, Kitāb al-Mustaghīthīn bi-llāh, ed. Manuela Marín, Madrid, Consejo
Superior de Investigaciones Cientificas, 1991, pp. 71-72 (introductory study).

408

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

end of this tale of captivity was attributed immediately to the saint’s intervention and baraka. A further proof of this was provided by the fact that the
younger brother of the captive also became a sailor in his adult life, and was
always protected from any danger by the baraka bestowed on him by the
52
saint’s caress.
As already hinted at on other occasions, the story could had happened
without any supernatural intervention, but the presence of the widow and
her request to Abū Ya‘qūb allowed the creation of a religiously oriented in terpretation of the facts. In this interpretation, the mother’s only hope to assuage her anguish and her fears for the orphaned child lay in God’s help,
53
and this could only be attained through the saints. All these miraculous actions of saints related to women follow a similar pattern. Women are shown
to be weak creatures in need of help by males, either in extraordinary circumstances – as in the case of the widow – or in their usual activities as
mothers or housewives. Implied in this image is the fact that all these women deserved to be helped, either by their place in a well-known saintly
family, or by their own merits as mothers and wives. To receive the saint’s
baraka, women – as well as men – needed to follow the accepted way of re ligious and social behaviour. This involved, in the case of married women,
obedience and submission to their husbands, be they saints or not. Wives refusing to comply with this rule, i.e. those who rebelled against marital authority (nushūz), were strongly disapproved of by moralists and other reli54
giously minded authors.
Within this framework, a typical situation regarding the marital relationship between a saint and his wife is that of the rebellious woman who
cannot understand her husband’s quest for spiritual perfection and puts all
kind of obstacles in his path, paramount among them her disobedience. In
many accounts of a saint’s virtue found in hagiographical literature, this is
the pretext to show his high level of endurance against the wiles of women
and specifically of his own wife. In the Maqsad, the only example of this
well-known hagiographic topos ends in a surprising and miraculous way:
52 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, pp. 95-96.
53 For another case of a Maghribi mother asking a saint for help to liberate his captive
son, see N. Matar, Europe Through Arab Eyes, p. 59, located at Fez; the saint is Ahmad al-Burnusī (text transl. from Ibn ‘Ayshūn, al-Rawd al-‘atir al-anfas bi-akhbār alsālihīn min ahl Fās, ed. Zahrā’ al-Nazzām, Rabat, Manshūrāt Kullīyat al-Ādāb
wa-l-‘Ulūm al-Insānīya, 1997, p. 315).
54 Vardit Rispler-Chaim, “Nušuz between Medieval and Contemporary Islamic Law:
The Human Rights Aspect,” Arabica, 39, 1992, pp. 315-327.

409

MANUELA MARÍN

when the wife of Zakarīyā’ b. Yahyā (from the Baqqūya tribe) persisted in
doing something that he abhorred (the text does not elaborate on the details
of her disobedience), he simply flew into the air, leaving his astonished wife
55
standing silent on earth.
On the other hand, baraka and marital bliss could and did coexist. A
moving anecdote recounted by al-Bādisī, who was a participant in the facts
he recounted, shows it eloquently. Al-Bādisī tells how he was travelling to
56
Tāfrsīt, carrying with him clothes to sell at the sūq, when he met the saint
Mūsā b. ‘Abd al-Salām and stopped for a while to sit with him. Suddenly alBādisī had the idea of giving Mūsā a veil (kanbūsh) as a gift for his wife.
After some inner debate – he doubted whether to do it at first because of his
57
slight acquaintance with Mūsā –, he finally gave him the veil. Later on, alBādisī met a relative of Mūsā, ‘Uthmān b. Dāwūd, who told him how Mūsā
had wished to buy a veil for his wife, but did not have enough money. When
he was seated with al-Bādisī, he thought of asking him for a loan on credit,
but he was ashamed of doing it. It was a proof of Mūsā’s baraka that alBādisī actually offered him the veil without being asked to, but rather was
58
inspired by God as a manifestation of his favour for the saint.

Women and Conflict: family and tribe
Three of the stories recorded by al-Bādisī deserve special attention, as they
show women at the core of family and tribal conflicts, in which saints play a
crucial role. The capacity of Moroccan saints (or members of Sharifian families) to mediate in confrontations between tribal groups has been acknow59
ledged by contemporary anthropological contemporary research, as well as
by historians dealing with the medieval period of Morocco’s history. The
texts by al-Bādisī to be examined here show how this authority was practiced. In the first, conflict is limited to some extent to the saint’s own family,
55 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 120. Flying was a rather common miracle among Maghribi
saints (see Ibn al-Zayyāt al-Tādilī, al-Tashawwuf ilā rijāl al-tasawwuf, ed. Ahmad alTawfīq, Rabat, Manshūrāt Kullīyat al-Ādāb wa-l-‘Ulūm al-Insānīya, 1984, p. 387).
56 A fortress to the East of Bādis, see Hasan al-Figīgī, “Tafrsīt,” Ma‘lamat al-Maghrib,
VI, Rabat, Al-Jam‘īya al-Maghribīya li-l-Ta‘līf wa-l-Tarjama wa-l-Nashr, 1992,
p. 2077.
57 Hagiographical texts contain interesting data on dress, see Yassir Benhima, “Le
vêtement des soufis au Maroc médiéval d’après les sources hagiographiques,”
Al-Andalus-Magreb, 13, 2006, pp. 9-24.
58 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 135.
59 See, for instance, the pioneering work of Ernest Gellner, Saints of the Atlas, Chicago,
University of Chicago Press, 1969, pp. 74-80.

410

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

and in the other two, larger social groups are involved. Issues such as mistreatment of women, patrilocality versus uxorilocal residence, or abduction
of women in tribal warfare are present in these three stories, giving a particularly interesting view of North Moroccan society in late Middle Ages.
Tribal intermarriage is present, although not very explicitly, in the first
of these three accounts. The saint, Ibrāhīm al-Battāl, belonged to the Kabdāna tribe, near Melilla, and he used to travel continuously around the surrounding country of al-Qilā‘a (Guelaya). But his wife resided in Kabdāna
with their daughter, who later married a man from the Banū Yaznāsan, on
the other side of the Mulūya River, at a day’s distance of her parents’ resid60
ence. This husband and wife team used to work together in agricultural
tasks; as the text says, “he was harvesting and his wife worked behind
61
him.”
This picture of joint conjugal work underlines the role of women as
workers in a rural environment – although also indicating that it was the
man who led the team. Whatever was the reason, however, one day the
couple quarrelled while working in the fields, and the husband beat
Ibrāhīm’s daughter. She then cried out for her father’s help, and the saint
immediately heard his daughter’s request, despite the great distance that
separated their residences. Therefore Ibrāhīm al-Battāl went to see his
daughter and asked her what had happened, finding that husband and wife
accused each other of physical mistreatment. The tale ends with yet another
proof of Ibrāhīm’s wisdom and charisma: he asks God to kill whoever is
truly guilty of “oppressing” the other, upon which a viper stings the hus 62
band, who dies on the spot.
It is interesting to note the use of the term “oppression” (zulm) to define
physical aggression between the couple, as the Arabic word (or its English
equivalent) carries the meaning of a cruel exercise of authority or power.
Usually used in Arabic texts to describe the excesses committed by unjust
rulers, here zulm is ascribed to the unfair beating of one of the conjugal pair,
63
who stood on equal terms before their ultimate judge, God. On the other
60 On this tribal confederation see E. B. and S. Chaker, “Beni Snassen/Beni Iznasen,”
Encyclopédie Berbère, Aix-en-Provence, X, 1991, pp. 1468-70. On the geographical
setting of the Kabdāna and the al-Qilā ‘a, see Croquis de las Kabilas de Guelaya y
Quebdana y sus limítrofes, Melilla, Ciudad Autónoma de Melilla, 2008 (facsimile of
the original map, printed in Melilla ca. 1920).
61 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 141.
62 Ibid.
63 On the Qur’ānic injunctions on beating wives, see Manuela Marín, “Disciplining

411

MANUELA MARÍN

hand, when Ibrāhīm al-Battāl’s daughter asks for his help, she is reintroducing herself into her paternal kinship, left behind when she married a man
from another tribe, living far away from her place of origin. The manifold
moral of the story includes also a hint of the dangers, for women, of an exogamic marriage.
In the last two stories of this section, the hero is the saint Muhammad b.
‘Abd Allāh al-Hasanī, born in Bādis to a father whose origins were not local,
as he came from the Habt country, in the Western parts of Northern Mo64
rocco. The family claimed to have Sharifian origins, which was perhaps related to the role played by Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh as a mediator in social
conflicts. After his father’s death, Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh stayed for a
while as a disciple of a local master, Abū Yahyā Ājurrūm, to whom he succeeded as a prestigious figure of the Muslim bādisī community. In fact, his
master, just before his own death, gave him his walking stick, as a symbol of
religious and social authority, and Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh took it with
him when he went around the country giving judgments and advising con65
flicting parties.
One of these occasions is related by al-Bādisī, who was an observer of
what happened and was acquainted with some of the individuals involved in
the events. As already mentioned, the lively account by the author of the
Maqsad gives an added value of credibility to a story in which the supernatural is not really playing any role, while the status of a saintly figure as the
mediator in family conflicts is plainly acknowledged as a pivotal figure in
social relationships.
A merchant called Ibn Tāfīlālt, who lived in the region of Marnīsa (near
the contemporary town of al-Husayma/Alhucemas), married a girl from
66
Hajar Tafsā. She was very young (saghīra), and the new couple, probably
following the accepted custom in these cases, stayed with the wife’s family.
Not surprisingly, however, problems soon arose among the members of the
mixed household. The married girl began to show signs of disobedience to
her husband, which he attributed to her parents’ influence. Ibn Tāfīlālt fiwives: a historical reading of Qur’ân 4:34,” Studia Islamica, 97, 2003, pp. 5-40, and
Hadia Mubarak, “Breaking the Interpretative Monopoly: a Re-Examination of Verse
4:34,” Hawwa, 2, 2004, pp. 261-289.
64 Edouard Michaux-Bellaire, “Quelques tribus de montagnes de la région du Habt,”
Archives Marocaines, 17, 1911.
65 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 143; Colin, “El Maqsad (Vies des saints du Rif),” p. 149 and p.
220, note 481.
66 Al-Bādisī, Maqsad, p. 144.

412

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

nally decided to leave his in-laws’ residence with his wife, seeking shelter in
the mountainous region of Būyrmān. The girls’ parents searched unsuccessfully for her, and finally went to see Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh, asking him
to intervene. They wanted their son-in-law to allow their daughter to visit
them for a while, promising that afterwards they would be ready to let her
to return to her husband.
Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh went to visit Ibn Tāfīlālt and asked him to
comply with his wife’s parents’ wishes. When Ibn Tāfīlālt explained his
doubts about their sincerity, the saint gave him his personal guaranty of the
fulfilment of the promise. Some months later, Ibn Tāfīlālt went to see his
wife’s parents, and asked for her to come back with him. But the father declined to comply with his promise, alleging that Ibn Tāfīlālt had left the
common house where they all lived during the night – implying that this
was a treasonous behaviour. If Ibn Tāfīlālt, he added, had honorable intentions towards his wife, he should reside with her and with her family.
Al-Bādisī was present when the saint visited the girl’s family, as reques67
ted by Ibn Tāfīlālt. According to him, all of them – father, mother and girl
– firmly refused to fulfil their promises. Seeing that he could not persuade
them, Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh left, very upset, and said to the father: “you
have betrayed me.” All those present felt that the man’s destiny was sealed,
and indeed, a few days later, on another visit to his place, al-Bādisī found
him suffering from a severe illness which soon killed him. He was a man of
humble means, a building worker, and his family was left in dire straits after
his death. The village muezzin asked its inhabitants to help the widow and
her children, and they offered what they could spare off from their crops,
while Ibn Tāfīlālt recovered his wife and went with her to live at his own
place. Thus the guaranty given by the saint was finally respected.
The long account of this family quarrel, as told by an eye-witness such
as al-Bādisī, contains several points of interest, beside the obvious aim of
showing the dangers of going against decisions taken by a saint and of not
fulfilling honour-bound promises. Among these is the question of the patrilocal against uxorilocal residence, which stands out as the main cause of the
conflict. It may be the case that the insistence of the wife’s parents in keeping their married daughter with them reflects to some extent local customs,
although the text clearly explains that this was due to the youthfulness of
the girl, and, therefore, to the need of protecting her through the early years
67 Ibid., p. 145.

413

MANUELA MARÍN

of her marriage. The role of the women of the family in the whole affair is
also remarkable. When Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh meets the family, both
mother and daughter speak out and leave no doubts as to their own opinion
on the matter, to the point that al-Bādisī qualifies the mother’s speech as
68
rude (aglazat al-kalām). The girl, for her part, had shown her fear and
aversion to the idea of leaving her parents’ residence, crying loudly in front
of all present. Al-Bādisī resents this public display of female feelings, and
clearly expresses his disapproval of this disturbing attack on patriarchal authority. But the contemporary reader of the tale may also discern there an
example of female assertion and of motherly love for a distressed child.
Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh was asked to mediate in another conflict, this
time between two tribal groups, the Banū ‘Īsā, from the Wargha tribe, and
the Banū Wānjan. The Banū ‘Īsā had abducted a woman from the Banū
69
Wānjan. Events then followed a similar pattern to the previous story. The
Banū ‘Īsā promised the saint to release their prisoner, but they failed to keep
their word and the woman stayed with them for 18 days after the mediation
of Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh. When the news reached him, the saint proclaimed that a member of the Banū ‘Īsā would die for every one of the days
they refused to fulfil their promise. This was what happened when a small
party of the Banū Wānjan attacked a much more numerous group of their
enemies, killing 18 of them. No mention is made of the subsequent fate of
the kidnapped woman, but the prestige of the saint was restored by the ful filment of his prediction.
What makes the case of Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh remarkable in more
ways than one is the fact that we can ascertain, through these two examples, how the influence of saintly men was being built in this period through
their intervention in family and tribal conflicts, here focused on the role of
women as their primary cause. Honour of the tribe, threatened by the abduction of a woman, or honour of the individual man, deprived of his wife
by his in-laws, could be restored by the intervention of a person like Muhammad b. ‘Abd Allāh, who added, to his reputation as a saint, his quality of
sharīf and his lack of tribal ties with the parties involved. Failing to keep a
word given to such a man could not but attract the worst of punishments.
68 Ibid.
69 Ibid., p. 144. Kidnapping women was considered a sign of the decadence of public
morality, as shown, for a later period, in Ahmed Bouchareb, “Les conséquences socio-culturelles de la conquête ibérique du littoral marocain,” in M. García-Arenal and
M. J. Viguera, eds., Relaciones de la Península ibérica con el Magreb (siglos XIII-XV),
pp. 487-537, specially p. 521.

414

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

Women, Family and Sainthood in the Medieval Rif
Al-Bādisī’s work is not one of the lengthiest hagiographical collections written in Medieval Morocco, far from it. But its relative brevity is compensated
for by its focus on a specific region, the Rif, and the quality of its information, to the point that al-Maqsad is considered as a valuable source for the
history of Bādis and its surrounding areas, not only for the lives of saintly
men. When sainthood and historical context intersect, as they so frequently
do in al-Maqsad, the result is a wide open window on the everyday life of
common people, their anguishes and their hopes. The fact that Bādis was a
coastal town, engaged in profitable trade with the Iberian Peninsula and the
Northern Moroccan shore, but also threatened by Christian attacks and pir acy, permeates the whole text, where the sea is a permanent and not always
kind presence. Al-Maqsad bears also witness to the ethnic diversity of the
Rif, its tribal Berber predominance, and the growing significance of the
Sharifian lineages, supposedly of Arab origins and called to play a decisive
role in this and later periods of Moroccan history.
By focusing on the role of women and kinship in the manifestations of
sainthood, as portrayed by al-Bādisī and his informants, here we have come
across a variety of situations. The dominant theme, evident in all the anecdotes examined, is that women are always family-related; they are grandmothers, mothers, wives or daughters. As such, they depend on their male
relatives for protection and safety. Kinship and marriage determined the
place of women in society, but this did not prevent them from having an
active part in the family activities and beyond. And as Muslim saints were,
with rare exceptions, married men, the oral and written records of their ex emplary actions could not totally suppress the presence of women in their
lives, as the texts here presented eloquently show. On the other hand, alBādisī carefully omits any mention to saintly women in the Rif; he only alludes, without any comment, to the name of Umm al-Yumn. Whether this
was a personal choice or rather a reflection of the social acceptance of reli giously active women is something impossible to determine with the preserved historical data.
The role of saints as mediators in social conflicts, well attested in hagiographical sources when unjust rulers oppressed their subjects, was also
manifest in other areas of social interaction. The cases recorded by al-Bādisī
in which women were involved show that the authority of the saint could
be challenged when confronted to tribal customs, thus probably reflecting
the different degrees of islamisation affecting the Rif region. Not surpris415

MANUELA MARÍN

ingly, these cases end with the restoration of the saint’s authority by virtue
of his charisma, but this kind of tale hints at the complexity of the relationships linking family and kinship structures, gender and sainthood.

Bibliography
Primary sources
Al-Bādisī, ‘Abd al-Haqq b. Ismā‘īl, al-Maqsad al-sharīf wa-l-manza‘ al-latīf fi lta‘rīf bi-sulahā’ al-Rīf, ed. Sa‘īd Ahmad A‘rāb, Rabat, Al-Matbaʻa alMalakīya, 1982.
Colin, Georges S., “El Maqsad (Vies des saints du Rif) de ‘Abd el-Haqq el-Bâdisî,”
Archives Marocaines, XXVI, 1926.
Croquis de las Kabilas de Guelaya y Quebdana y sus limítrofes, Melilla, Ciudad
Autónoma de Melilla, 2008.
Ibn ‘Ayshūn, al-Rawd al-‘atir al-anfas bi-akhbār al-sālihīn min ahl Fās, ed.
Zahrā’ al-Nazzām, Rabat, Manshūrāt Kullīyat al-Ādāb wa-l-‘Ulūm alInsānīya, 1997.
Ibn Bashkuwāl, Kitāb al-Mustaghīthīn bi-llāh, ed. Manuela Marín, Madrid,
Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Cientificas, 1991.
Ibn al-Zayyāt al-Tādilī, al-Tashawwuf ilā rijāl al-tasawwuf, ed. Ahmad alTawfīq, Rabat, Manshūrāt Kullīyat al-Ādāb wa-al-ʻUlūm al-Insānīya, 1984.
Al-Qashtalī, Ahmad, Tuhfat al-mughtarib bi-bilād al-Magrib, ed. F. de la Granja,
Madrid, Instituto Egipcio de Estudios Islámicos, 1974 (transl. into Spanish
by Bárbara Boloix, Prodigios del maestro sufí Abu Marwan al-Yuhanisi de
Almería, Madrid, Mandala, 2010).

Studies
Agabi, C., “Bâdis (ville du Rif),” Encyclopédie Berbère, IX, Aix-en-Provence,
Edisud, 1991, p. 1303.
Amri, Nelly, “Les sâlihât du Ve au IXe siècle/XIe-XVe siècle dans la mémoire
maghrébine de la sainteté à travers quatre documents hagiographiques,”
Al-Qantara, XXI, 2000, pp. 481-509.
Id., Les saints en Islam: les messagers de l’espérance. Sainteté et eschatologie au
Maghreb aux XIVe et XVe siècles, Paris, Cerf, 2008.
Benhima, Yassir, “Le vêtement des soufis au Maroc médiéval d’après les sources
hagiographiques,” Al-Andalus-Magreb, 13, 2006, pp. 9-24.
Benkheira, Mohammed Hocine, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and Jacqueline
Sublet, L’Animal en islam, Paris, Les Indes Savantes, 2005.
Boloix, Bárbara, De la taifa de Arjona al reino nazarí de Granada (1232-1246). En
torno a los orígenes de un estado y de una dinastía, Jaén, Instituto de
Estudios Giennenses, 2005.

416

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

Bouchareb, Ahmed, “Les conséquences socio-culturelles de la conquête ibérique
du littoral marocain,” in Mercedes García-Arenal and María Jesús Viguera,
eds., Relaciones de la Península ibérica con el Magreb (siglos XIII-XV),
Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 1988, pp. 487-537.
Cabrera, Ángel, “Cuestiones de zoología africana. Los leones de Marruecos,”
Revista Hispano Africana, IV, febrero 1925, pp. 11-12.
Chaker, E. B. and Salem., “Beni Snassen/Beni Iznasen,” Encyclopédie Berbère,
Aix-en-Provence, X, 1991, pp. 1468-1470.
Cherif, Mohamed, “Quelques aspects de la vie quotidienne des soufis andalous
d’après un texte hagiographique inédit du XIIe siècle,” Al-Andalus-Magreb.
Estudios Árabes e Islámicos, IV, 1996, pp. 63-79.
Id., “Quand les saints protègent les pèlerins en Méditerranée médiévale,”
Arqueologia Medieval, 9, 2005, pp. 5-12.
Chodkiewicz, Michel, “La sainteté féminine dans l’hagiographie islamique,” in
Denise Aigle, ed., Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 99-115.
Colin, Georges S., “Bādis,” Enc. Islam 2, I, pp. 859-860.
Conrad, Lawrence I., “Islam and the sea: paradigms and problematics,”
Al-Qantara, XXIII, 2002, pp. 123-154.
Cornell, Vincent, The Way of Abū Madyan, Cambridge, The Islamic Texts
Society, 1996.
Id., Realm of the saint. Power and Authority in Moroccan Sufism, Austin,
University of Texas Press, 1998.
Cressier, Patrice, “Le développement urbain des côtes septentrionales du Maroc
au Moyen Âge : frontière intérieure et frontière extérieure,” Castrum 4.
Frontière et peuplement dans le monde méditerranéen au Moyen Âge,
Madrid-Rome, Casa de Velázquez-École Française de Rome, 1992,
pp. 173-187.
Cressier, Patrice, Mustapha Naïmi and Abd el-Aziz Touri, “Maroc saharien et
Maroc méditerranéen au Moyen Âge : les cas des ports de Nul Lamta et
de Badis,” Afrique du Nord antique et médiévale. Spectacle, vie portuaire,
religions, Paris, Comité des travaux historiques et scientifiques, 1992,
pp. 393-407.
Cressier, Patrice, Abdelatif El Boudjay, Larbi Erbati and Ahmed Siraj, “La
forteresse du mont Abba à Badîs [sic] : une râbita médiévale ?,” Mil Anos
de Fortificaçoes na Peninsula Ibérica e no Magreb (500-1500), Lisboa, Ediçoes
Colibri, 2001, pp. 273-281.
El Boudjay, Abdelatif, “Prospection d’archéologie médiévale dans la vallée de
Beni Broufah (Rif central, Maroc). Premiers résultats,” Mélanges de la Casa
de Velázquez, 32, 1996, pp. 319-334.
El Hour, Rachid, “La alimentación de los sufíes-santos en las fuentes hagiográficas magrebíes. El caso de Marruecos,” in Manuela Marín and Cristina
de la Puente, eds., El banquete de las palabras: la alimentación en los textos

417

MANUELA MARÍN

árabes, Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas, 2005,
pp. 207-239.
Id., Las sociedades del Magreb y al-Andalus (siglos XI-XIV). Una mirada desde las
fuentes hagiográficas, Rabat, Bouregreg, 2010.
Ferhat, Halima, “Bādis,” Ma‘lamat al-Maghrib, III, Rabat, Al-Jamʻīya alMaghribīya, 1984, pp. 965-969.
Id., “L’évolution de l’écriture hagiographique entre les XIIème et XIVème siècles
au Maroc,” in id., Le Maghreb aux XIIème et XIIIème siècles : les siècles de la
foi, Casablanca, Wallada, 1993, pp. 13-28.
Id., “Un maître de la mystique maghrébine au XIIe siècle : Abu Madyan de
Tlemcen,” in id., Le Maghreb aux XIIème et XIIIème siècles, pp. 55-78.
Ferhat, Halima and Hamid Triki, “Hagiographie et religion au Maroc médiéval,”
Hespéris Tamuda, XXIV, 1986, pp. 17-51.
Fierro, Maribel, “The celebration of ‘Ashura’ in Sunni Islam,” Proceedings of the
14th Congress of the Union européenne des arabisants et islamisants,
Budapest, Eötvös Loránd University Chair for Arabic Studies, 1995, I, pp.
193-208.
Al-Figīgī, Hasan, “Tafrsīt,” Ma‘lamat al-Maghrib, VI, Rabat, al-Jam‘īya alMaghribīya li-l-Ta‘līf wa-l-Tarjama wa-l-Nashr, 1992, p. 2077.
Franco Sánchez, Francisco and Míkel de Epalza, eds., La rábita en el islam.
Estudios interdisciplinares, Sant Carles de la Ràpita, Universidad de
Alicante, 2004.
Gellner, Ernest, Saints of the Atlas, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1969.
Marçais, Georges, “Note sur les ribats en Berbérie,” Mélanges d’Histoire et
d’Archéologie de l’Occident musulman, Alger, Impr. officielle du
Gouvernement général de l’Algérie, 1957, I, pp. 23-36.
Marín, Manuela, “Biographical Dictionaries and Social History of al-Andalus:
Trade and Scholarship,” Scripta Mediterranea, XIX-XX, 1998-99, pp. 239257.
Id., “Mujeres, burros y cargas de leña: imágenes de la opresión en la literatura
española de viajes sobre Marruecos,” in Fernando Rodríguez Mediano and
Helena de Felipe, eds., El protectorado español en Marruecos. Gestión
colonial e identidades, Madrid, Consejo Superior de Investigaciones
Científicas, 2002, pp. 85-110.
Id., “Disciplining wives: a historical reading of Qur’ân 4:34,” Studia Islamica, 97,
2003, pp. 5-40.
Id., “Women and Sainthood in Medieval Morocco,” in Sofia Boesch Gajano and
Enzo Pace, eds., Donne tra saperi e poteri nella storia delle religioni, Brescia,
Morcelliana, 2007, pp. 283-298.
Id., “Images des femmes dans les sources hagiographiques maghrébines : les
mères et les épouses du saint,” in Nelly Amri and Denis Gril, eds., Saint et

418

WOMEN AND KINSHIP IN MEDIEVAL MOROCCAN HAGIOGRAPHY

sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 2007, pp. 235-247.
Id., “Los ulemas en la sociedad andalusí. Riqueza y saber,” in M. M. Delgado
Pérez and G. López Anguita, eds., Actas del Congreso Conocer al-Andalus.
Perspectivas desde el siglo XXI, Sevilla, Alfar, 2010, pp. 125-141.
Matar, Nabil, Europe Through Arab Eyes 1578-1727, New York, Columbia
University Press, 2009.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, “Miracles des saints musulmans et règne animal,” in
Denise Aigle, ed., Miracle et karâma. Hagiographies médiévales comparées,
Turnhout, Brepols, 2000, pp. 577-606.
Meouak, Mohamed, “Langue et toponymie berbères dans les sources
hagiographiques du Maghreb médiéval : l’exemple des Da‘âmat al-yaqîn fi
za‘âmat al-muttaqîn d’al-‘Azafî (m. 633/1236),” Rocznik Orientalistyczny,
LXI, 2008, pp. 56-72.
Michaux-Bellaire, Edouard, “Quelques tribus de montagnes de la région du
Habt,” Archives Marocaines, 17, 1911.
Mubarak, Hadia, “Breaking the Interpretative Monopoly: a Re-Examination of
Verse 4:34,” Hawwa, 2, 2004, pp. 261-289.
Peláez Rovira, Antonio, El emirato nazarí de Granada en el siglo XV. Dinámica
política y fundamentos sociales de un estado andalusí, Granada, Universidad
de Granada, 2009.
Puerta Vílchez, José Miguel, Los códigos de utopía de la Alhambra de Granada,
Granada, Diputacion Provincial de Granada, 1990.
Rispler-Chaim, Vardit, “Nušūz between Medieval and Contemporary Islamic
Law: The Human Rights Aspect,” Arabica, 39, 1992, pp. 315-327.
Rosenberger, Bernard, “Ports médiévaux de la côte méditerranéenne du Maroc.
Guerre et commerce,” Arqueologia Medieval, 9, 2005, pp. 21-40.
Rubiera, María Jesús, “El califato nazarí,” Al-Qantara, XXIX, 2008, pp. 293-305.
Sánchez Martínez, Manuel, “Comercio nazarí y piratería catalano-aragonesa
(1344-1345),” in M. García-Arenal and M. J. Viguera, eds., Relaciones de la
Península ibérica con el Magreb (siglos XIII-XV), pp. 41-86.
Sánchez Sandoval, Juan José, “La literatura hagiográfica en el Magreb
occidental,” Al-Andalus-Magreb, VIII-IX, 2000-2001, pp. 11-35.

419

The Son of his Mother:
Qalandarī Celibacy and the “Destruction” of Family

Alexandre Papas
Bize bu felek ata, yer anadur
— a Qalandarī quote

Sufis and their Families: some Reminders
1

In her book on the spiritual manners of the Gnostics, Mahīn Panāhī devotes
a section to the individual and social akhlāq of medieval Sufis. A long
chapter discusses the relationship between Sufism and family (sufiyya wa
khānawāda), reviewing the various aspects of family life in a spiritual context: marriage, choice of wife and rules of marriage, rights of spouses, rights
of children, raising children, finding a good match, respect for the parents.
Like their coreligionists, mystics were apparently expected to get married. Sufi theoreticians such as Shihāb al-Dīn Suhrawardī (d. 1191) or Hujwīrī (d. 1077) quote hadiths which strongly recommend to not stay single
2
and to live as husband and wife. Yet the same Hujwīrī, in his famous
chapter of the Kashf al-Mahjūb dealing with marriage, gives numerous
counter-arguments: the evils of marriage are two – “the preoccupation of
the mind with other than God”, “the distraction of the body for the sake of
sensual pleasure”; suitable wife are impossible to find, thus celibacy is high3
ly recommendable, etc. However, since the problem is less the marriage itself than the Sufi’s desire, lust (hawā-yi nafs), it is actually possible to be
married and, in the meantime, to live in chastity or, at least, to calm down
the concupiscence and devote his life to God. Based also on Prophetic traditions, Ghazālī’s Kīmīyā-yi Sa‘ādat presents marriage as a practical and moral condition of religious life, offering several advantages despite serious dis4
advantages. Another important Sufi theoretician who deals with marriage
1
2
3
4

Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān. Akhlāq-i mutasawwifa az khilāl-i mutūn-i ʻirfānī az
āghāz tā awā’il-i qarn-i haftum, Tehran, Intishārāt-i rawzana, 1378/1999.
Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, p. 391.
Reynold A. Nicholson, The Kashf al-Mahjub. The Oldest Persian Treatise on Sufism by
‘Ali b. ‘Uthman al-Jullabi al-Hujwiri, London-Leiden, Luzac & Co.-Brill, 1911, pp.
360-366.
Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, pp. 393-394. A chapter of Ghazālī’s Ihyā’ ‘Ulūm alDīn is also devoted to marriage. It has been translated into French as al-Ghazālī, Le

420

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

is, of course, Ibn ‘Arabī, notably in the last chapter of the Fusūs al-Hikam,
but his arguments are more of an esoteric and theoretical nature, linking
5
marriage with sexual union and mystical experience. Later on, turuq literature would continuously discuss the issue of marriage from the standpoint of
6
Sunna and strive to defend it against the excess of asceticism.
Regarding the choice of wife and marital life, Hujiwīrī and Ghazālī, following Muhammad’s advices, agree on basic conditions: the lighter the
dower (kābīn), the better the wife; virginity and fertility of wives; good as7
cendancy and piety; good manners. The rules of marriage equally follow
the customs of Muslim weddings; they do not present any distinctly Sufi
8
characteristics. Although medieval mystics did not write extensively on the
rights of spouses, they showed contrasting attitudes toward them. For instance, Qushayrī (d. 1072) considers that wives and children can be obstacles
to spiritual advancement; some dervishes went so far as to give back the
dower and repudiated their spouse; yet others, like for example Shams al9
Dīn Tabrīzī, show a great attachment to their wife. Lastly, Suhrawardī’s
rules remind novices that “companionship with their wife and children
10
should be with compassion.” One finds more details on the question of
livre des bons usages en matière de mariage, transl. by Léon Bercher and GeorgesHenri Bousquet, Paris, A. Maisonneuve, 1953.
5 On the larger topic of Ibn ‘Arabī and women, see Süleyman Uludağ, Sufi Gözüyle
Kadın, Istanbul, İnsan Yayınları, 2009, pp. 75-86; also Valerie J. Hoffman-Ladd, “Mysticism and Sexuality in Sufi Thought and Life,” Mystics Quarterly, 18/3, 1992, pp. 82-93.
6 An example among many others is the Naqshbandī treatise entitled Mysteries of
Marriage (Asrār al-Nikah) written by Ahmad Kāsānī Dahbidī (d. 1544). See Sachiko
Murata, “Mysteries of Marriage. Notes on a Sufi Text,” in Leonard Lewisohn, ed.,
The Heritage of Sufism. Vol. II. The Legacy of Medieval Persian Sufism, Oxford, Oneworld, 1999, pp. 343-351. Although the author considers Kāsānī a little-known master, he was one of the main authorities of the early modern Naqshbandiyya and was
very well-known in the Turko-Persian area.
7 Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, p. 402.
8 Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, pp. 403-404.
9 Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, pp. 405-406. Aflākī’s Manāqib al-‘Ārifīn (ed. Tahsin
Yazıcı, Istanbul, Türk Tarihi Kurumu Basımevi, 1961, vol. 2, pp. 637-638 and 641-642;
English trans. by John O’Kane, The Feats of the Knowers of God, Leiden-Köln-Boston,
Brill, 2002, pp. 439 and 442) mentions twice Shams’ wife Kīmīya Khātūn. However,
for Nasrollah Pourjavady, these two mentions are the exceptions that confirm
Shams’ rule, according to which the majority of women are incapable of experiencing a spiritual love of God or becoming a saint. See his article “Stories of Aḥmad alGhazālī ‘Playing the Witness’ in Tabrīz (Shams-i Tabrīzī’s Interest in shāhid-bāzī)”,
in Todd Lawson, ed., Reason and Inspiration in Islam, London-New York, I.B. Tauris,
2005, pp. 214-215 in particular.
10 Abū al-Najīb al-Suhrawardī, A Sufi Rule for Novices. Kitāb Ādāb al-Murīdīn, transl.
Menahem Milson, Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1975, p. 47.

421

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

children, boys in particular. One prime concern of Sufi fathers was the spiritual – not only religious – education of their sons. Beside the hagiographical topos of the young saint marked by an exceptional piety and religious
knowledge, texts stress the need for education, training, and advising: to be
benevolent (khūshkhūyī) to children; to teach them prayer, Qur’ān and reli11
gious deeds. However, here again, Sufis do not agree on the issue of chil12
dren, oscillating between filial love and ascetic rejection.
Despite the separation from their own family identity when they enter
the spiritual path, Sufis retained a deep respect for their father and mother.
Ghazālī’s Ihyā’ ‘Ulūm al-Dīn ‘solves’ this paradox by quoting Qur’ān 17, 23
“Thy Lord has decreed you shall not serve any but Him, and to be good to
parents (…),” as well as hadiths which consider the service of parents as the
highest struggle (ghazā’), which likewise emphasize, among others, the advising role of the mother. The Kīmīyā-yi Sa‘ādat explains that, among the
most important rights of the Sufis, two things are obligatory: young people
should follow their parents’ opinion in culinary matters, regardless of
whether the food in question looks pure to them or not, and should get their
parent’s permission if they undertake any kind of trip, including the hajj pil13
grimage. Another classic author, ‘Attār (d. circa 1190–1220), insists on the
14
eminence of the mother. Serving her is more important than any form of
devotion and represents a supreme duty, as is shown in this narrative by
Shaykh Muhammad Murta‘ash: “I had accomplished thirteen journeys to
Ka‘ba, when I thought on this I realized that all I had accomplished was
mere pretension. – How so, they [his companions] asked him. – One day, he
replied, my mother asked me to bring her water in a pitcher, but this task
seemed to me painful; I concluded that all my travels to the Ka‘ba were actually but hypocritical deeds, given that the right of the mother on his son
15
by far prevails over the honours due to the Ka‘ba.”
11 Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, pp. 406-407.
12 See for example Abū Nasr al-Sarrāj’s ch. LXXX of his Kitāb al-Luma‘ fi’l-Tasawwuf,
ed. Reynold A. Nicholson, London-Leiden, Luzac & Co.-Brill, 1914, pp. 199-200. This
oscillation could turn into a personal “tension between bearing responsibility for
one’s family and abandoning all to God,” and led to dramatic consequences, like in
the case of the Chishtī Sufi Farīd al-Dīn whose “family is said to have literally faced
starvation,” according to Carl W. Ernst and Bruce B. Lawrence, Sufi Martyrs of Love.
Chishti Sufism in South Asia and Beyond, New York, Palgrave Macmillan, 2002, p. 67.
13 Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, pp. 389-390.
14 Mahīn Panāhī, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān, pp. 390-391.
15 Farīd al-Dīn ‘Attār, Le mémorial des saints, transl. Abel Pavet de Courteille, Paris,
Seuil, 1976, p. 278.

422

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

To conclude, despite the contrasting views early Sufis had on marriage,
wives, and family life, they seem, one way or another, to maintain a link
with the family institution, particularly with the mother, as if the social rupture which would condition the spiritual engagement could not be fully
completed.

The Case of the Qalandars
Qalandars constitute a specific category of Sufis encountered frequently in
the history of Islamic mysticism. Often called “antinomian” dervishes, they
appear as anti-conventional ascetics. A main aspect of this social as well as
religious anti-conformism is their rejection of domestic life (khānumān), as
is suggested in a famous saying from Ahmad-i Jām: “May the Qalandar be
homeless / May the Qalandar be neither this nor that” (Qalandar rā nabāshad khānumānī / Qalandar rā nabāshad īn ū ānī). Reinforcing the ascetic
tendency of tasawwuf, Qalandars persistently criticize marriage and the
family on the grounds that both contradict the spiritual realization, and
thwart the struggle against the ego. In Khwāja Ansārī’s writings, we read
quotations of Qalandarī masters who require their followers to be indifferent to the common opinion, to the general hostility toward them, and to
16
leave definitively their home. Such a call for rupture, such a strong opposition to wife, children, home and work, can be understood in the frame of
vagrancy (siyāha) and constant travels. In many dīwāns dealing with Qalandars, we therefore find various injunctions to renounce home, family, belongings and any forms of domestic life, in order to lead a wandering exist ence. In the Dīwān-i Auhadī Marāghehāy (d. 1338), it says “Qalandar once
again, we’ve left behind all the cares of home / Love called us, and we took
up the wayfarer’s patched cloak” (Bāz qalandar shudīm khāna bar andākhtīm / ‘ishq nawā’ī bizad khirqa dar andākhtīm). In the Dīwān-i Pīr Jamāl
Ardistānī (d. 1474), we read: “Wanderers and Qalandars are happy on the
roads / Having no place no home, everywhere they are free” (rindān ū
17
qalandarān darīn rah shādand / Bī jā ū makān dar hama jā āzādand”). The
Dīwān-i Amīr ‘Alī Shīr Nawā’ī (d. 1501) features the following scene: “They
saw a Qalandar pondering our true need / Home and family long left behind
// They said: ‘O dervish, where’s your home?’ / He said: ‘In these old rags of
mine” (Dīdand yakī qalandar-i faqr andīsh / Az manzil ū khānumānish dūrī
16 Jawād Burūmand Sa‘īd, Āyīn-i Qalandarān, Kerman, Intishārāt-i Dānishgāh-i Shahīd
Bāhunar, 1384/2005, p. 16.
17 Jawād Burūmand Sa‘īd, Āyīn-i Qalandarān, p. 17.

423

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

shuda kīsh // Guftand ki paywasta kujāyī darwīsh / Gufta ki darūn-i khirqa-yi
18
kuhna-yi khwīsh). Having swapped khānumān for khirqa, that is to say, domestic life for mystical life, the dervish enacts the contradiction between
family and God.
Meaning naked, lonely, detached and celibate, the word mujarrad might
be considered a synonym of Qalandar, as Mīr ‘Ābidīnī and Afshārī sugges19
ted in the opening of their book dedicated to this Sufi trend. Celibacy characterizes the Qalandarī Sufi insofar as this term denotes not only a social
disruption with the family institution but also a spiritual state, in the sense
that tajrīd purges the heart of anything but God. Several medieval and early
modern texts place celibacy as the first and foremost principle of the
Qalandariyya path: Mawlānā ‘Ubayd Zākānī’s Rīsāla-yi Sad Pand (14th c.)
identifies the Qalandar as necessarily an unmarried man, while Amīr Husaynī Sādāt Hirawī’s Qalandarnāma (14th c.) claims “We are the unattached
(mujarradān) of the confines / We roam the world from end to end // All we
earn is renunciation and singleness (tajrīd) / Submission, consent, endurance
20
and unity.” A treatise written in the seventeenth century presents, on several occasions, separation (tajrīd) and isolation (tafrīd) as, respectively, the
21
apparent and the hidden path the wanderer follows. Another conceptual
couple popular among the Qalandars is tark ū tajrīd, which, here again, understands celibacy in a larger ascetic framework. In his Dīwān, the sixteenth
century Ottoman author Hayretī, for instance, says “We are the people of
renunciation and isolation (terk ü tecrīd), free from home / Free from the
22
two worlds, free from this and that.”
Beyond textual claiming, entire groups following the Qalandarī path did
implement its principles and experience its values. One such example is, of
course, the Bektashī group, a sort of Ottoman offspring of the Qalandariyya
23
Haydariyya, whose masters committed themselves to celibacy. Several
18 ‘Alī Shīr Nawā’ī, Dīwān-i Amīr Nizām al-Dīn ‘Alīshīr Nawā’ī “Fānī”, ed. R. Humāyūnfarrukh, Tehran, Intishārāt-i Asātīr, 1375/1996, p. 333.
19 Abū Tālib Mīr ‘Ābidīnī and Mihrān Afshārī, Āyīn-i Qalandarī. Mushtamil bar chahār
risāla dar bāb-i Qalandarī, Khāksārī, Firqa-yi ‘Ajam wa Suhrawardī, Tehran,
Intishārāt-i Farārawān, 1374/1995, p. 15.
20 Mīr ‘Ābidīnī and M. Afshārī, Āyīn-i Qalandarī, p. 67.
21 Mīr ‘Ābidīnī and M. Afshārī, Āyīn-i Qalandarī, pp. 110, 136.
22 Ahmet Yaşar Ocak, Osmanlı İmparatorluğu’nda Marjinal Sûfîlik: Kalenderîler (XIVXVII. Yüzyıllar), Istanbul, Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1999, pp. 168-169 and note
133.
23 Ahmet Yaşar Ocak, Osmanlı İmparatorluğu’nda Marjinal Sûfîlik, pp. 199-209. Section
3, chapter III considers the relationship between Kalenderīlik and Bektaşīlik. Later in

424

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

“brotherhoods” erected tajrīd as their first rule, such as the Jalāliyān (a
Qalandarī branch of the Suhrawardiyya in India issued from Sayyid Jalāl al24
Dīn Bukhārī, d. 1384) and a Qalandarī branch of the Naqshbandiyya briefly
25
described in Zayn al-‘Ābidīn Shīrwānī’s Riyāz al-Siyāha (19th c.). Others
26
declared that marriage or sexual union was purely and simply forbidden.
And some others, like Shāh Husayn (1539–1599), a Qādirī Qalandar of Punjab, rejected marriage, children and any patriarchal values but enjoyed “a
27
primary erotic attachment to another man who also never married.” Lastly,
the prominent saints or instigators of the Qalandariyya – say, Bāyazid
Bistāmī (777/8–848/9), Jamāl al-Dīn Sāwī (13th c.) and Qutb al-Dīn Haydar
28
(13th c.) – all advocated asceticism and followed the rule of celibacy. Yet,
the Qalandars’ opposition to family does not imply the hostility toward parents. In other words, despite their radical lifestyle, antinomian Sufis seem to
maintain a tight relation with their family origins.

Qalandarī Sons and Mothers
If we look more closely at the biography of the three above-mentioned representatives of the Qalandariyya, the parents, the mother in particular, play
a paradoxical role. While the father is often absent or at best in shade, the
mother appears at several points in the hagiographical narrative.

Advising children
Quite expectantly, the parents are described firstly as opponents to the spiritual vocation of the Qalandarī saint. In his biographical compendium in

24
25
26
27
28

the history of the Bektashīs, the order would admit non-celibate members but would
set up at its head a council of high authorities composed strictly of celibate masters
called dede.
Mīr ‘Ābidīnī and M. Afshārī, Āyīn-i Qalandarī, p. 57.
Mīr ‘Ābidīnī and M. Afshārī, Āyīn-i Qalandarī, p. 63.
Jawād Burūmand Sa‘īd, Āyīn-i Qalandarān, pp. 124, 146.
Scott Kugle, Sufis and Saint’s Bodies. Mysticism, Corporeality, and Sacred Power in Islam, Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press, 2007, p. 184. Ch. 4 discusses in detail the case of this Punjabi Sufi.
Ahmet Karamustafa, Unruly Friends of God. Dervish Groups in the Islamic Middle
Period, 1200-1550, Oxford, Oneworld, 2006, pp. 39-46. Interestingly, Sībak Fattāhī
Nishāpūrī’s Dīwān-i Asrārī (15th c.) mentions an inn (langar) full of celibate (mujarrad) Qalandars who came from India; it also uses the word “lodge of celibates” (mujarrad khāna). Although these are primarily poetical expressions, they may contain
some concrete meaning. Quoted in Muhammad Rizā Shafī‘ī Kadkanī, Qalandariyya
dar Tārīkh, Tehran, Sukhan, 1386/2007, pp. 473, 482. This Dīwān features the story of
a wine drinker and a hashish addict.

425

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Chaghatay, the Nasā’im al-Mahabba min Shamā’im al-Futuwwa, ‘Alī Shīr
Nawā’ī devotes a section to Qutb al-Haydar, in which the largest part deals
29
with the parents’ lack of understanding regarding their son’s choice: Qutb
al-Dīn is said to have been the son of Turkistan’s pādishāh and the disciple
of the famous master Ahmad Yasawī (d. 1166). The child was impatient to
attend the spiritual discussion of Ahmad Yasawī. Each time his father
brought him back home, the child left again and again the family house to
serve the shaykh, until his father forbade him to see the shaykh and encouraged him to get married (kedkhudālīq). But this decision was going against
the son’s mystical nature. When his parents finally realized that he was incapable to do that, they abandoned to God the “bad apple of the family tree.”
When the shaykh heard that their parents freed him, he took care of him
and sent him to Khurāsān. Then Qutb al-Dīn settled in the region of Zāwa,
where he devoted himself to a rigorous ascetic discipline. His spiritual
achievement rendered him famous, so far as people called him Qutb-i ‘ālam
and a group of disciples named Haydarī gathered around him. His shrine
(turbat) probably gave the name of the place now called Turbat.
In contrast with this relatively common situation of a young saint facing
the incredulity or ignorance of his parents, Qalandarī biographies depict
mothers as caring, helpful, and aware of the religious passions of their sons.
This is obviously a widespread hagiographical topos but it seems to be amplified regarding dervishes. ‘Attār’s Tadhkirat al-Awliyā’, which contains a
long section on the famous Bāyazīd Bistāmī (d. 874 or 877-8), discusses the
question of the rights and duties toward family and God in the following
30
story: Bāyazīd’s mother used to send her son to the mullah to practice
reading. One day, the child asked his teacher the meaning of Qur’ān 31, 14
“Be thankful to Me, and to thy parents”; then he came near his mother and
told her: “Mother, I read this verse which teaches to serve God and to serve
you, but since I am not able to serve you both should I ask God to be yours
or should I ask you to be His.” His mother replied: “I give you to God and I
yield my rights (haqq) to you.” Somehow contrary to Shaykh Murta‘ash –
quoted above – Bāyazīd Bistāmī is allowed by his mother herself, who decides the meaning of the hadith, to favour God over his own family.
29 ‘Alī Shīr Nawā’ī, Nesāyimü’l-Maḥabbe min Şemāyimi’l-Fütüvve. I. Metin, ed. Kemal
Eraslan, Ankara, Türk Dil Kurumu Yayınları, 1996, pp. 384-385.
30 Farīd al-Dīn ‘Attār, Tadhkirat al-Awliyā’, ed. Reynold A. Nicholson, London-Leiden,
Luzac & Co.-Brill, 1905, pp. 135-136. French translation from the Turkic version in
Le mémorial des saints, pp. 155-156.

426

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

Whether negative or positive, the mother fulfils a function of advisor,
instructor of the future dervish. We find another interesting illustration of
this in the Manāqib-i Jamāl al-Dīn Sāwī written in Persian verse by Khatīb-i
Fārsī (13th c.). If the hagiography of Sāwī does not mention anything about
the saint’s parents, it recalls an episode in which the mother of the ruler of
31
Damascus entered the service of the Qalandars:
When he was in Damascus, Jamāl al-Dīn was roughly treated and ex pelled from the pādishāh’s palace. The day after, the king fell suddenly ill
and passed away. The king’s mother, a wise and sincere woman, was desperate and lamented loudly when she met a group of people who had wit nessed the events of the day before. They told her: “A faqīr [Jamāl al-Dīn]
came to the palace with a request but he got thrown out humiliatingly. Then
the dervish said something and all of a sudden disappeared,” meaning:
vexed, Jamāl al-Dīn cursed the king, provoked his death and left. The group
of people recommended the mother to apologize to the dervish for her son’s
crime. When she learned this, the mother fulminated and gave orders to arrange a banquet. She then went to the dervish’s place of retreat (khalwatgāh) and begged him for mercy: it is true that the king had committed a sin;
as a result he lost his glory, his kingdom, and his life. Yet, she implored, the
king could be now forgiven. In return, she would offer him and his compan ions all she could offer. When Jamāl al-Dīn and the other dervishes saw the
illuminated face of the woman, they prayed God to forgive the deceased
king. Later, at the banquet, Jamāl al-Dīn did not eat anything but invited his
companions to savour the meal. After that, they all thanked God, the mother
kissed the earth and ordered that, from now on, a meal should be served to
dervishes every day. This is how, Khatīb-i Fārsī concludes, people of Shām
entered the right path and respected the Qalandars. Many thugs and rascals
became Qalandars, cutting their beard and eyebrows and repenting of their
former wrongs.
Beyond the usual topic of the saint’s miraculous actions – in this case,
his punishment of the sceptical king – this story nicely illustrates the idea of
a mother’s wisdom and her capacity, in the knowledge of spiritual practices,
to offer wise counsel. Such a capacity reminds the hagiographical description of holy women transmitting traditional knowledge and pouring out ad-

31 Khatīb-i Fārsī, Manāḳib-i Camāl al-Dīn Sāvī, ed. Tahsin Yazıcı, Istanbul, Türk Tarihi
Kurumu Basımevi, 1972, pp. 53-55. The most detailed biography of Sāwī is in Ocak,
Osmanlı İmparatorluğu’nda Marjinal Sûfîlik, pp. 24-33.

427

ALEXANDRE PAPAS
32

vices (ma’thūrāt). Also noteworthy is the banquet offered by the mother:
setting up a sort of langar, preparing a meal every day, nourishing everyone, she would act like the mother of all dervishes.

Feeding children
This feast scene leads us to a second role of mothers: the physical and spir itual nourishing of the saint. Deserving of particular mention here is Hasan
al-Basrī (d. 772), a founding figure of asceticism in Islam and a constant reference for the Qalandars. In the section which ‘Attār devotes to Hasan alBasrī in the Tadhkirat al-Awliyā’, the first paragraphs shed light on the in33
timate relationship between the mother and her breastfeeding baby. “His
mother was one of the retainers of Omm Salama. When his mother was
busy at some task, Hasan would begin to cry. Omm Salama would place her
nipple in his mouth to suckle. A few drops of milk would appear. The many
thousands of blessings that the Real most high manifested were all the result
of that (…) Omm Salama raised him and cared for him. Because of the tenderness she felt for him, she began to lactate. She always used to say, ‘O
Lord, make him an example for your creatures!’” This tale calls for two comments. First, Umm Salama, one of Prophet Muhammad’s wives, is wellknown as a hadith transmitter. Here, through the topic of milk feeding, the
hagiographer suggests not only a connection between the Prophetic family
and the saint but also a spiritual or intellectual nourishing of the saint by
Umm Salama. Of course, this is impossible historically since she died in 67980, but this does not matter. Second, regarding the miracle of lactation,
which shows that the saint arouses so much love that an unknown woman
became like a mother, the tale puts forward that holy love is so strong that it
makes all mothers the mother of the saint. The ascetic, therefore, appears as
a creator of motherhood.
Another hagiographic example relates to the figure of Ghawth ‘Alī
Shāh, a Qalandarī saint of nineteenth century India. His disciple and biographer Gul Hasan gives interesting details about his family background:
“Ghawth ‘Alī Shāh was born on Friday 7 December 1804. As his mother was
32 On this point, see Nelly and Laroussi Amri, Les femmes soufies ou la passion de Dieu,
St-Jean-de-Braye, Dangles, 1992, pp. 181-182. The tabaqāt literature quotes saintly
women, like Sha‘wāna, Um Sufyān al-Thawrī, Um Talq, who instruct their children
in religion, see ibid, p. 186.
33 ‘Attār, Tadhkirat al-Awliyā’, pp. 24-25; ‘Attār, Le mémorial des saints, pp. 37-38. Here
I quote (without the laudatory formulas) Paul Losensky’s translation in Memorial of
God’s Friends. Lives and Sayings of Sufis, New York, Paulist Press, 2009, pp. 63-64.

428

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

not well and was advised not to feed him, a wet nurse was soon found in the
neighbourhood. She was the wife of Pandit Ram Sanihi, a pious and Godfearing man (…) It was at the start of his fourth year that his mother began
to teach him to recite and read the Qur’ān, and Pandit Ram Sanihi, whose
wife was his wet nurse, taught him Sanskrit and made him familiar with the
Hindu scriptures. His father’s other wife taught him Persian, while her father gave him elementary lessons in Arabic grammar (…) In accord with the
tradition of the Family of the Prophet, Ghawth ‘Alī Shāh first took his own
34
father as his spiritual guide, a son changing into a disciple.” Confronted
with a multi-religious society like Northern India’s where Hindu-Muslim relations remain a constant concern, the hagiographer’s intention is to explain
how Ghawth ‘Alī Shāh drew on both sources, Islamic and Hindu. For our
present purposes, the significant point is the way in which the Qalandarī
saint again derives his most privileged knowledge from his mother, with his
father by contrast mentioned only in passing. Here, it is motherhood which
creates sainthood.
One final reference confirms the high status given to mothers in the
Qalandarī tradition. From its foundation to the present time, the afore-mentioned Betkashī order has worshipped a feminine figure named Hatun Ana
35
or Kadıncık Ana. While the Vilayetname, the main hagiography of Hacı
Bektaş, evokes a Kadıncık Ana who predicted the birth of Hacı Bektaş, then
helped the dervish for his spiritual retreat, and finally gave him miraculously two sons, the historian Aşıkpaşazade (15th c.) talks of a Hatun Ana
who succeeded to Hacı Bektaş and made built a shrine above the saint’s
tomb. These two names most probably designates the same person: the venerated Bektashī woman, surnamed the “mother of holy men” (erenlerin anesi), compared to Prophet’s wives or to Mary/Maryam. From the protection
of the Bektashī saint to the motherhood of all Bektashī saints, Kadıncık Ana
epitomizes the various roles of the Qalandarī sons’ mother.
This series of hagiographical accounts is certainly not free from allusions to the founding figures of Islam. As is well-known, biographies of Muhammad – whether Sīra or hadith, or even sometimes Qisas al-Anbiyā’
(when they include Muhammad) – provide significant details about the
Prophet’s mother, among which we find several similarities with our Qalan34 Gul Hasan, Solomon’s Ring. The Life and Teaching of a Sufi Master, transl. H. Askari,
Walnut Creek, Altamira Press, 1998, pp. 175-177.
35 See Thierry Zarcone, Poétesses soufies de la confrérie bektachie, Montélimar, Signatura, 2010, pp. 113-114.

429

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

darī sources: Hasan al-Basrī’s “two mothers” as well as Gul Hasan’s remind
Muhammad’s mother Amīna and his wet nurse Halīma, about whom the
36
question of lactancy and breastfeeding is of great importance. Inspired by
37
38
Qur’ān or even perhaps by the Sufi theosophical treatment of Mary, the
mother of the Damascene king and Kadıncık Ana may refer to Mary in two
ways – as the mother of all saints and as the miraculous parturient. In the
Qalandarī hagiography, such allusions to the prophets’ life and model reemerge at the other critical extremity of human life, not the birth but separ ation and death.

The Mother’s Death
As we have seen already, a major master of the Qalandarī path such as
Bāyazīd Bistāmī was particularly close to his mother. She is mentioned
39
again in the same hagiography:
“Then, after he [Bāyazīd] had gone and performed the pilgrimage
to Medina, it occurred to him to go pay his respects to his mother.
He set off with a group of people toward Bestām (…) Then, at
dawn, he went to the door of his mother’s house and listened. He
heard his mother performing her ablutions, as she prayed, ‘My
God, protect my wanderer! Let the hearts of all the sheikhs hold
him dear. Grant him good health.’ Bāyazīd wept when he heard
this. He knocked on the door. ‘Who is it?’ his mother asked. ‘Your
wanderer,’ he replied. His mother started crying and opened the
door. ‘O Teyfur,’ she said, ‘my eyes have grown weak from weeping so much in your absence. My back is bent double from grieving so much over you.’ It is related that he said, ‘The act that I
36 See, among others, Mahmoud Hussein, Al-Sîra. Le Prophète de l’Islam raconté par ses
compagnons, Paris, Hachette, 2005, vol. 1, pp. 201-209; Al-Rabghūzī, The Stories of the
Prophets. Qiṣaṣ al-Anbiyā’. An Eastern Turkish Version, transl. Henrik E. Boeschoten
and John O’Kane, Leiden-New York-Köln, Brill, 1995, vol. 2, pp. 523-531.
37 Barbara F. Stowasser, “Mary,” Enc. Qur’ān, III, pp. 288-296. On the question of wet
nurses and breastfeeding, see Avner Giladi, Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses: Medieval Islamic Views on Breastfeeding and Their Social Implications, Leiden-Boston-Köln,
Brill, 1999. On the question of sainthood and breast milk, see Scott Kugle, Sufis and
Saint’s Bodies, pp. 93-98.
38 Michel Chodkiewicz, “La sainteté féminine dans l’hagiographie islamique,” in Denise
Aigle, ed., Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 109-114 ; Süleyman Uludağ,
Sufi Gözüyle Kadın, pp. 79-80.
39 ‘Attār, Tadhkirat al-Awliyā’, p. 138; ‘Attār, Memorial of God’s Friends, p. 192; ‘Attār,
Le mémorial des saints, pp. 158-159.

430

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

considered the least important was greater than all my other acts
combined and that was pleasing my mother.’ He continued,
‘What I was searching for in all my austerities and struggles and
wanderings, I found in this: One night my mother asked me for
water. There was no water in the pitcher or jug. I went to the
stream and brought back some water. My mother has fallen
asleep. It was a cold night. I held the pitcher in my hand. When
she awoke, she realized what had happened and called for me.
She saw how the pitcher had frozen to my hand. ‘Why didn’t you
put it down?’ she asked. I said, ‘I was afraid that you would wake
up and I would not be here.’ Another time she said, ‘Close that
half of the door!’ Until dawn I weighed whether I should close the
right half or the left, so I wouldn’t disobey my mother. At dawn,
what I was searching for came in through the door.’”
At a first glance, these three short scenes seem to reinstate the mother in
her family authority and household power. Her rights over her son verge on
sovereignty, as if no one else could ever dominate the ecstatic dervish. However, a closer look leads to a different conclusion. The obedience to the
mother conceals an inevitable severance from her, an unavoidable separation between mother and son, expressed in her tears when Bāyazīd comes
back home after years of wanderings. In this sense, to obey the mother is to
leave her, to abandon her. Such interpretation is, we believe, confirmed by
another narrative which actually replays the opening scene: the dramatic return of the prodigal son.
Bābārahīm Mashrab (1640–1711), a famous and rather iconoclastic Qalandar of Central Asia, returned to Andijan after years of wanderings
throughout Turkestan. The Dīwān-i Mashrab (the unique hagiography of
Bābārahīm with numerous quotations of his poetry, written mainly in Cha40
ghatay Turkic) describes this event at length and starts by citing Mashrab
himself, who sings:
The child you delivered with pain is back
With his white and red face, your Kerbela martyr is back
No one is tender than mother, comforting than father
Who can affect me more than them, your strange child is back
40 I here take the liberty of quoting from my book Mystiques et vagabonds en islam.
Portraits de trois soufis qalandar, Paris, Cerf, 2010, pp. 93-97.

431

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

If mother is satisfied, God will be, and Muhammad and the Four
Caliphs
Be happy my mother, your praying child is back
God, do not refuse the supplications of Mashrab
Tears in his eyes, pain in heart, your vagrant child is back.
Saharlār tölghānīp tölghāghda bir balang kīldī
Yūz-i āq u qīzīl guldīk shahīd-i karbalāng kīldī
Anādīk mehrībān qayda atādīk ghamgudhār qayda
Alārdīk īchkūyār qayda gharīb bolghān balāng kīldī
Anā rāzī khudā rāzī Muhammad Chār Yār ham
Rizā bolghīl anājānīm du‘ā alghān balāng kīldī
Bū mashrab du‘āsīnī khudāyā nā umīd ītma
Köz-i yāshlīq dil-i ghamlīk bū sargardān balāng kīldī
The Qalandar arrives at his mother’s house, comes near the door and looks
at the courtyard. His mother is here, her hairs became white, her eyes became blind. She is now mourning for her son: “God, you concealed my son
during eighteen years. Show me my child while I am still alive, then You can
take my life.” Mashrab shows up, she exclaims:
The child I raised with care is back
Acting as a martyr, my child is back
Stranger, orphan, I am your mother, say a prayer for me
His liver burned, turning vagrant, my child is back
You were far from my eyes son, where were you?
Consumed in the fire of love, my child is back
Umīd birla kötārīp qatta qīlgān ūl balām kīldī
Shahīdlārīm qatārīgha ālīp öznī balām kīldī
Gharīb mūnglīgh anāngman mangā bir du‘ā ayla
Jigarlār örtānībān charkh ūrūp balām kīldī
Közīngdīn ūrgūlāyin jān balām qay yerda īrdīng san
Ki ‘ishq ötīgha örtāngān ūshal ghamlīk balām kīldī

432

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

She then says: “My child, I cannot find the door handle, give me the tail of
your mantle to wipe my eyes.” Mashrab gives it. Suddenly, his mother’s
eyes open, she recovers her sight: “God, by his glance, my son has given
back the light to my eyes, God take my soul, I am leaving, Allah is great.”
She expires. Soon after, Mashrab reads Qur’ān and performs the burial
rituals. He utters this elegy:
They all left this world, ministers and sultans
In the dark soil are all the rotten hairs
Muslims, so many great men disappeared from this world!
In the dark soil are all the kings and khans
Brothers, these times are a chance for us
The wind of death makes of Spring Autumn
My nightingale heart bemoans the world’s sufferings
All the beings of this world has their hearts in tears
Friends, who are those that death renders orphans?
Muslims, nobody escapes the jaws of death
God, tell me why, at the beginning, you created this world?
Why did you put in hearts the attachment to the world?
Why did you make known death to men?
Why did you pierce their hearts with the fatal arrow?
Physicians did not find any remedy to death sickness
Wherever I look, livings are similar to buried ones
Wherever I look, all bemoan in the jaws of death
This is why, my brothers, my body is decomposing
The fairies, like jasmines, are all in tears
Companions, why can I don in front of death?
Someone like Muhammad left his world
Since the Creator said: There is no way out from death
Friends, whether you live for thousand years, you will die
Friends, don’t sell your soul to the world, there all is vain
So many Muslims, from their taste for the world, returned to dust
Someone like Muhammad left this world
In this garden, there is no more flower no stem no bud
His ripped collar, the rosebud groaned hundred times
Separated from his friend, Mashrab is in despair
Muslims, what to say of all these musty gardens?
433

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Darīghā dunyādīn öttī jami‘-i bīk u sultānlār
Qarā yergā nihān boldī hama kākul parīshānlār
Na mardānlār fanā boldī bū dunyādīn musulmānlār
Qarā yer āstīgha kīrdī hama khān birla khāqānlār
Ghanīmatdūr barādarlār ki bīzgā ūshbū darwānlār
Ajal bādī bahār-i ‘umrnī ākhīr khazān qīldī
Köngūlnī bulbulī ūshbū ‘alamlārdīn fighān qīldī
Jami‘-i ahl-i ‘ālamnī yūrak baghrīnī qān qīldī
Na ādamlārnī dūstlār bū ölūm bīkhānumān qīldī
Ajalnī dastīdīn hich kīm qūtūlmās ayi musulmānlār
Khudāwandā na dīp awwal bū ‘ālamnī banā qīldīng
Bū dunyā mehrīnī ūshbū köngūllār ichra jā qīldīng
Ölūmnī na sababdīn ādamīgha āshnā qīldīng
Ajalnī tīghī birla barchanī köksīn yarā qīldīng
Tabīblār tāpmādīlār bū ölūm dardīgā darmānlār
Qayān qīlsām nazāra barchasī yer birla yaksāndūr
Qayān bāqsam ölūmnī dastīdan faryād u afghāndūr
Bū bā‘ithdīn barādarlār manī tab‘īm parīshāndūr
Parīlār semen bolār tamāmī dīda giryāndūr
Ölūmnī dardīgā netmāk ayi yār u yārānlār
Bū dunyādīn safar qīldī ūshandāgh ahmad-i mukhtār
Ölūmgā chāra yoqtūr chūnki deydī khāliq-i jabbār
Agar mīng yil tīrīk yūrsang ölārsan ‘āqibat ayi yār
Köngūl berma bū dunyāgha barādar barchasī bīkār
Bū dunyā hasratīdīn yergā kīrdī köp musulmānlār
Bū dunyādīn ötūp kettī ūshandāgh shāhid-i barnā
Chaman ichra na gul na shākh-i ghuncha-yi ra‘nā
Girībān chāk etīp gul ghunchalār sad āh-i wāwaylā
Bolūp yārdīn judā bū mashrab shūrīda u shaydā
Na dīpdūr ayi musulmānlār khazān boldī gulistānlār
Mashrab pronounces a funeral oration:
My sweet Spring, my garden, where are you?
Glimmer of my eyes, rest of my soul, where are you?
My reason for living, support of my life, where are you?
434

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

My unique friend throughout the world, where are you?
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
I am possessed by temptation, whatever I say I’m mad
From now on, my duty is to see the Sacred Place
I travel steppes and deserts, I bleat like the orphan lamb
In the mountain or plain, how can I find you?
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
In this world, I did not find any rest, never
I am a nightingale without nest,
I remain silent in this garden, I am far from mother
I am an orphan, what can I do? My wings are broken
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
What to do my soul, my mother? May God grant mercy!
May he give mercy, may the Creator offer paradise!
At the burial, may not the angels of death torment you!
How many days did I not serve you devotedly?
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
Friends, do not condemn me, I am possessed by temptation
The knife of death can split the diamond
Mystics, patience is our greatest benefit
This death is a legacy of our ancestor Adam
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
Friends, in the hands of death, I am in confusion
Having no cure, I am but a vagabond without land
What to do? I am but a humble servant of the Merciful
My pain increases day after day, I am impatient
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
No one is weaker than me in the hands of death
No one is more bent than me in the everyday sorrow
No one is more crippled than me in the troubles of exile
No one is more destitute more unfortunate than me
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
What to do? Death does not affect me only, it is everywhere
Death is our fate since our holy ancestor Adam
435

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Death throws on the ground every man’s body
Death is not proper to me, it grabs all souls
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
Death makes me cry, it makes my face yellow
My body has no longer force, I am so weak
This heavy burden makes me bend like a bow
No one, in the world, is more destitute
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
Mother, I prayed for you, I confided you to God
May God protect you against the torments in the grave
I am turning yellow like saffron, my life is wilted
I fell down, you sentenced me to suffer
My mother, my Mecca, my Medina, my tender, where are you?
Ayi safā bakhshī bahārīm u bustānīm qaydasan
Nūr-i dīdam mushfiqīm ārām-i jānīm qaydasan
Ayi tirīklīk bā‘ithī sarw-i rawānīm qaydasan
Yalghūz ūylārda rafīq u mehrībānīm qaydasan
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Khātirīm waswāsdūr dīwāna dīrlār sözlāsam
Īmdī mangā farzdūr bayt al-haramnī közlāsam
Dasht u sahrānī kīzīp yatīm közīdīk bözlāsam
Man sanī qaydīn tāpārman tāgh u tūznī īzlāsam
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Bū jahānda lahza ārām topmādīm bir dam tīnīp
Bulbulī bīkhānumāndūrman par u bālīm sīnīp
Bīnawādūrman bū bāgh ichra anāmdīn ayrīlīp
Man yatīm boldīm nītāy qāldī qanātīm qayrīlīp
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Naylāyin jānīm anām qīlsūn khudā rahmat sangā
Rahmat aylāp lutf qīlsa khāliqīm jannat sangā
Gūr ichida bermāsūn munkar nakir zahmat sangā
Nicha kūn ikhlās birla qīlmādīm khidhmat sangā
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan

436

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

Dūstlār ‘ayb aylāmānglār khātirīm waswāfdūr
Bū ölūmnī khanjar burrātār az ālmāsdūr
Sabr qīlghān bandalār sarkhayl-i khayr al-nāsdūr
Bū ölūm ādam atādīn bīzlārā mīrāthdūr
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Bū ölūmnī dastīdīn ayi dūstlār hayrāndūman
Tāpmāyin hich chāra man har yerda sargardāndūman
Naylāyin man banda-yi shāyista-yi rahmāndūman
Dardīm afzūn boldī kūndīn kūngā bīdarmāndūman
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Bū ölūm dastīdīn mandīn zabūnrāq yoq kīshī
Zārīlāp har kūn bū ghamda sarnigūnrāq yoq kīshī
Mihnat u hijrānda mandīn nātawānrāq yoq kīshī
Man yatīmdīn bīnawā bīkhānumānrāq yoq kīshī
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Naylāyin yalghūz mangā yoq barchagha kīlghān ölūm
Hazrat-i ādam atāmīzdīn mīrāth qālghān ölūm
Barcha ādam jismīnī yer āstīgha sālghān ölūm
Yalghūzīn mangā īmās īl jāninī ālghān ölūm
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Bū ölūm zār yighlātīp qīldī yūzūmnī za‘farān
Tanda darmān qālmadī boldūm za‘īf-i nātawān
Bū āghir yūk āstīda boldī qadīm mithl-i kamān
Bolmaghān ‘ālam īlīda man kabī bīkhānumān
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
Ayi anā qīldīm du‘ā tangrīgā tāpshūrdūm sanī
Gūr ‘adhābī shiddatīdīn saqlāsūn tangrīm sanī
Za‘farāndīk sargharīpman ayi khayātīm gulshanī
Ishratīm tarhī būzūldī ghamda sāwurdīng manī
Wālidam makkam madīnam mehrībān qaydasan
As is the case in some of the other Qalandarī biographies which we have
already encountered in this paper, Mashrab’s mother appears only at the be41
ginning and at the end of the work, in other words at the birth or early
41 Alexandre Papas, Mystiques et vagabonds en islam, pp. 35-37.

437

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

education and at the time of maturity or separation. Reiterating deliberately
Bistāmī’s biography, Mashrab’s anonymous hagiographer goes further and
stages the death of the saint’s mother. The two long poems which follow the
decease offer a meditation on death, presenting the loss of the mother as the
very definition of the human condition, as the fate of humanity condemned
to orphanhood. The Qalandarī saint losing his mother embodies all men in
that, “since always already,” they lost their roots and origins. In this respect,
the life of the Qalandarī saint summarizes the life of men. Equally meaningful is the epilogue of this tragic event for, right after having buried his
mother, his maternal Mecca, Bābārahīm decided to set off for Mecca and
42
would forever abandon his family. The last bond with his parents being
snapped, he became a complete dervish, a perfect Qalandar.
The decease of the mother, conceived as a release of the son, is present
in a second Qalandarī biography from Central Asia. Muhammad Siddīq Zalīlī (1676–1753) was a wandering poet who travelled extensively in Kashgaria and described his initiatory journey in a versified safarnāma. At the
end of his tribulations, after years of wanderings, Zalīlī settles in the city of
43
Khotan and tells:
I was walking through the beauties of Khotan
I was walking though the gardens and vineyards
I was the nightingale of the rose gardens
I was the singer, friend of the birds
In the service of all, lords, vizirs or humbles
In the intimacy of all masters and saints of God
Then I became wealthy
I even made my mother come
She was my benefactress
She was my qibla, my Mecca, my land
When she attained the age of seventy
Her soul left to join the world of spirits
She left behind two sons
They were out of their mind with grief
42 Alexandre Papas, Mystiques et vagabonds en islam, pp. 97-98.
43 Here again, I am constrained to quote Mystiques et vagabonds en islam,
pp. 202-203.

438

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

Wild with pain, they went in mourning
They were locked up in affliction
What a sadness, fate of lapis-lazuli!
Where each breath affects the breast
She was the rosebud of the rose garden
She is now rose stem in the graveyard
She was like a fairy
Her waist was like a tree
God’s decree command all creatures
She was charming like paradise houris
If a garden spreads its beauties at Spring
It happens that the nightingale lands on the flower
A wink and Fall arrives
He hides in the dark tomb
All is orphan in this world
All the deceased cry on that
But nobody hears them
Even if the orphan’s scream touches the sky
In these words of Zalīlī there is no lie
The proof comes from Muhammad the Arab
Shūkh-ī khūbān-i khūtan sayr ītīm
Bāgh īla būstān-i chemen sayr ītīm
Bulbul-i ol bāgh u gulistān bolūp
Hamdam-i murghān ghazalkhwān bolūp
Khidhmat-i har shāh u wazīr-i gadā
Suhbat-i har shaykh u walī allāh
Waqt-i tilā top-i muhallā yāghī
Wālidanī keltūrūp īrdīm daghī
‘Ayn-i ‘atā īrdī walī-yi ni‘matīm
Qiblam īdī makkam īdī dawlatīm
439

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Yāshlārī yetmīsh kātīp īrdīlār
Jān bila jānāngha safar qīldīlār
Īkkī oghūl qāldī musāfir bolūp
Kheylī junūn īlkīda dilgīr bolūp
Mast-i mey mātam īrūrlār hanūz
Qīldī asīr-i gham īrūrlār hanūz
Bū na ‘ālam ayi falak-i lājaward
Sīnagā har dam qoyāsīn dāgh u dard
Ghuncha ki taraf-i gulistān dūrūr
Ākharī gul shākh-i gūristān dūrūr
Ādamīdīn mithl-i parīzāddīk
Qāmatī gūyāki chū shimshāddīk
Hūkmī khalāyiqgha qazā u qadar
Hūr-i bihishtīcha qīlīp jilwagar
Chiqsa bahār chemenī husn arā
Bulbul aylān gulgha sālīp mājarā
Köznī yumūp āchqūcha aylāp khezān
Tīra qabr ichra qīlūrsan nihān
Har yatīmī kīm bū jahān ichra dūr
Yighlār anīng hālīgha ahl-i qubūr
Līk ishitmāydūr anī hich kīm
Kökgha agar yetsa nafirī yatīm
Yoqtūr bū söz ichra khilāfī Zalīl
Keldī Muhammad ‘Arabīdīn dalīl
These Chaghatay distiches describe the mother’s death in the same tone as
what we find in Mashrab’s hagiography. Her decease symbolizes the rupture of family ties, and, taken further, the endless distance between the Creator and his works. Zalīlī and his brother become orphans in the same way
that the other human beings become godless. The last verse adds elliptically
that the source of this symbolic scene is the Prophet himself. In fact, the
Qalandarī poet alludes to Muhammad’s orphanhood and refers to a popular
440

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY
44

narrative which presents the Prophet giving help to an orphan (yatīm).
This tale is nothing but an allegory of the human condition: orphans saved
by an orphan. It might be interesting to note that such a story, found al 45
ready in Hujwīrī’s Kashf al-Mahjūb, became a sub-genre coined yatīmnāma which was widespread among Central Asian Qalandars until the early
46
twentieth century.

Conclusion: “Killing” the Father and the Mother
To sum up the preceding discussion, it seems clear that Qalandarī saints do
not apply the pattern of sanctity based on the patrilineal transmission, followed by Sufi holy men in general since the late medieval period. Supposing
that Muhammad and his family, the Ahl al-bayt, define this model,47 then
Qalandars – aside from Bektashīs (but they moved away from the Qalandariyya trend) among whom the Ahl al-bayt play a considerable role – limit
their interpretation of the Prophetic model to maternity and orphanhood.
Concerning maternity, although they emphasize religious education, in
addition to physical and spiritual lactancy, like the other Sufis, 48 Qalandars
differ from them in two important respects. Wives and children are of
course nonexistent, and fathers are almost completely absent from the
saints’ biographies. They are all excluded from the family circle; the mother
is quite the only family presence. Furthermore, in most cases, the mother
serves a subversive and paradoxical purpose by urging her son to break off
with his family. She abandons him to God; she yields her rights; she advises
him to enter the life of a recluse. Both characteristics – i.e. the disappear ance of the other family members, men in particular, fathers especially, as
well as the “contradictory” role of the mother – seem to be peculiar to the
Qalandarī sanctity, and seem to be devoted to the destruction of the patriarchal order. There is no sanctity in patriarchy.
44 For a translation of the narrative, along with further comments, see Mystiques et
vagabonds, pp. 203-207. On the Prophet as orphan and sonless, see David S. Powers,
Muḥammad Is Not the Father of Any of Your Men. The Making of the Last Prophet,
Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009.
45 R.A. Nicholson, The Kashf al-Mahjub, p. 76.
46 Anna L. Troitskaia, “Iz proshlogo kalandarov i maddakhov v Uzbekistane,” in Domusulmanskie verovaniia i obriady v Srednei Azii, Moscow, Nauka, 1975, p. 197 and footnote 25.
47 See Nelly Amri’s and Kazuo Morimoto’s contributions in this volume.
48 See Annemarie Schimmel, My Soul is a Woman. The Feminine in Islam, New YorkLondon, Continuum, 1997, ch. 6 (pp. 89-97); Süleyman Uludağ, Sufi Gözüyle Kadın,
pp. 19, 52, 60, 81, 87.

441

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Regarding orphanhood, the Qalandars’ hagiographical tradition is no
less radical. What strikes in the examples which we have given is the constant elimination of the mother herself. The king’s mother becomes the
dervishes’ servant; she is not able to feed her son and entrusts him to a wet
nurse’s care; she dies, leaving behind a desperate orphan. If the eclipse of
the mother symbolically represents the concealment of God, it also signifies,
at the anthropological level, the abolition of matriarchy. In order to attain
sanctity, the saint should “kill” first the father and then the mother. As a
result, the sanctity of Qalandars would present itself as the ruin of the family institution. Such demolition is certainly not reducible to a provocative
act by dirty hashish smokers wearing dreadlocks. It shows that Qalandar
Sufis were highly aware that such destruction had occurred depuis toujours
déjà.

Bibliography
Primary sources
Aflākī, Shams al-Dīn, The Feats of the Knowers of God (Manāqeb al-‘ārefīn),
transl. from the Persian by John O’Kane, Leiden, Brill, 2002.
‘Attār, Farīd al-Dīn, Tadhkirat al-Awliyā’, ed. Reynold A. Nicholson, LondonLeiden, Luzac & Co.-Brill, 1905. French transl. by Abel Pavet de Courteille,
Le mémorial des saints, Paris, Seuil, 1976. English trans. by Paul Losensky,
Memorial of God’s Friends. Lives and Sayings of Sufis, New York, Paulist
Press, 2009.
Al-Ghazālī, Le livre des bons usages en matière de mariage, transl. L. Bercher et
G.-H. Bousquet, Paris, A. Maisonneuve, 1953.
Hasan, Gul, Solomon’s Ring. The Life and Teaching of a Sufi Master, transl. H.
Askari, Walnut Creek, Altamira Press, 1998.
Hussein, Mahmoud, Al-Sîra. Le Prophète de l’Islam raconté par ses compagnons,
Paris, Hachette, 2005, vol. 1.
Khatīb-i Fārsī, Manāḳib-i Camāl al-Dīn Sāvī, ed. Tahsin Yazıcı, Istanbul, Türk
Tarihi Kurumu Basımevi, 1972.
Mīr ‘Ābidīnī, Abū Tālib and Mihrān Afshārī, Āyīn-i Qalandarī. Mushtamil bar
chahār risāla dar bāb-i Qalandarī, Khāksārī, Firqa-yi ‘Ajam wa Suhrawardī,
Tehran, Intishārāt-i Farārawān, 1374/1995.
Nawā’ī, ‘Alī Shīr, Nesāyimü’l-Maḥabbe min Şemāyimi’l-Fütüvve. I. Metin, ed.
Kemal Eraslan, Ankara, Türk Dil Kurumu Yayınları, 1996.
Id., Dīwān-i Amīr Nizām al-Dīn ‘Alīshīr Nawā’ī “Fānī”, ed. R. Humāyūnfarrukh,
Tehran, Intishārāt-i Asātīr, 1375/1996.

442

THE SON OF HIS MOTHER: QALANDARĪ CELIBACY AND THE “DESTRUCTION” OF FAMILY

Nicholson, Reynold A., Kashf al-Mahjūb of al-Hujwīrī. The Oldest Persian
Treatise on Sufism, London, Gibb Memorial Trust, 1976.
Al-Rabghūzī, The Stories of the Prophets. Qiṣaṣ al-Anbiyā’. An Eastern Turkish
Version, transl. Henrik E. Boeschoten and John O’Kane, Leiden-New YorkKöln, Brill, 1995, vol. 2.
Al-Sarrāj Abū Nasr, Kitāb al-Luma‘ fi’l-Tasawwuf, ed. Reynold A. Nicholson,
London-Leiden, Luzac & Co.-Brill, 1914.
Al-Suhrawardī, Abū al-Najīb, A Sufi Rule for Novices. Kitāb Ādāb al-Murīdīn,
transl. Menahem Milson, Cambridge, Harvard University Press, 1975.

Studies
Amri, Nelly and Laroussi Amri, Les femmes soufies ou la passion de Dieu, StJean-de-Braye, Dangles, 1992.
Burūmand Sa‘īd, Jawād, Āyīn-i Qalandarān, Kerman, Intishārāt-i Dānishgāh-i
Shahīd Bāhunar, 1384/2005.
Chodkiewicz, Michel, “La sainteté féminine dans l’hagiographie islamique,” in
Denise Aigle, ed., Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 109-114.
Ernst, Carl W. and Bruce B. Lawrence, Sufi Martyrs of Love. Chishti Sufism in
South Asia and Beyond, New York, Palgrave Macmillan, 2002.
Giladi, Avner, Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses: Medieval Islamic Views on
Breastfeeding and Their Social Implications, Leiden-Boston-Köln, Brill, 1999.
Hoffman-Ladd, Valerie J., “Mysticism and Sexuality in Sufi Thought and Life,”
Mystics Quarterly, 18/3, 1992, pp. 82-93.
Karamustafa, Ahmet, Unruly Friends of God. Dervish Groups in the Islamic
Middle Period, 1200-1550, Oxford, Oneworld, 2006.
Kugle, Scott, Sufis and Saint’s Bodies. Mysticism, Corporeality, and Sacred Power
in Islam, Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press, 2007.
Murata, Sachiko, “Mysteries of Marriage. Notes on a Sufi Text,” in Leonard
Lewisohn, ed., The Heritage of Sufism. Vol. II. The Legacy of Medieval
Persian Sufism, Oxford, Oneworld, 1999, pp. 343-351.
Ocak, Ahmet Yaşar, Osmanlı İmparatorluğu’nda Marjinal Sûfîlik: Kalenderîler
(XIV-XVII. Yüzyıllar), Istanbul, Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1999.
Panāhī, Mahīn, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān. Akhlāq-i mutasawwifa az khilāl-i mutūn-i
ʻirfānī az āghāz tā awā’il-i qarn-i haftum, Tehran, Intishārāt-i rawzana,
1378/1999.
Papas, Alexandre, Mystiques et vagabonds en islam. Portraits de trois soufis
qalandar, Paris, Cerf, 2010.
Pourjavady, Nasrollah., “Stories of Aḥmad al-Ghazālī ‘Playing the Witness’ in
Tabrīz (Shams-i Tabrīzī’s Interest in shāhid-bāzī),” in Todd Lawson, ed.,
Reason and Inspiration in Islam: Theology, Philosophy and Mysticism in

443

ALEXANDRE PAPAS

Muslim Thought, London-New York, I.B. Tauris in association with the
Institute of Ismaili Studies, 2005, pp. 200-220.
Powers, David S., Muḥammad Is Not the Father of Any of Your Men. The Making
of the Last Prophet, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009.
Shafī‘ī Kadkanī, Muhammad Rizā, Qalandariyya dar Tārīkh, Tehran, Sukhan,
1386/2007.
Schimmel, Annemarie, My Soul is a Woman. The Feminine in Islam, New YorkLondon, Continuum, 1997.
Stowasser, Barbara F., “Mary,” Enc. Qur’ān, III, pp. 288-296.
Troitskaia, Anna L., “Iz proshlogo kalandarov i maddakhov v Uzbekistane,” in
Domusulmanskie verovaniia i obriady v Srednei Azii, Moscow, Nauka, 1975,
pp. 191-223.
Uludağ, Süleyman, Sufi Gözüyle Kadın, Istanbul, İnsan Yayınları, 2009.
Zarcone, Thierry, Poétesses soufies de la confrérie bektachie, Montélimar,
Signatura, 2010.

444

Selective General Bibliography
Abashin, Sergei, “Les descendants de saints en Asie centrale : élite religieuse ou
nationale ?,” Cahiers d’Asie centrale, 13/14, 2004, pp. 215-229.
Addas, Claude, “The notion of Ahl al-bayt according to Ibn ‘Arabi,” in East and
West: Common spiritual values, scientific-cultural links. International Ibn alArabi Symposium, Baku 9-11 October, Istanbul, Insan Publications, 2010,
pp. 353-368.
Aigle, Denise, “Hommes de Dieu en islam : le cas des sayyids dans l’Iran
médiéval (IXe-Xe siècle),” in Dominique Iogna-Prat and Gilles Veinstein,
eds., Histoires des hommes de Dieu dans l’islam et le christianisme, Paris,
Flammarion, 2003, pp. 43-65.
Ambrosio, Alberto Fabio, Ève Feuillebois-Pierunek and Thierry Zarcone, Les
derviches tourneurs. Doctrine, histoire et pratiques, Paris, Les Editions du
Cerf, 2006.
Amir-Moezzi, Mohammad Ali, “Famille de Mahomet,” in id., ed., Dictionnaire
du Coran, Paris, R. Laffont, 2007, pp. 335-338.
Amri, Nelly and Laroussi Amri, Les femmes soufies ou la passion de Dieu,
St-Jean-de-Braye, Dangles, 1992.
Amri, Nelly, “Les sâlihât du Ve au IXe siècle/XIe-XVe siècle dans la mémoire
maghrébine de la sainteté à travers quatre documents hagiographiques,”
Al-Qantara, XXI, 2000, pp. 481-509.
Id., Les saints en islam, les messagers de l’espérance. Sainteté et eschatologie au
Maghreb aux XIVe et XVe siècles, Paris, Editions du Cerf, 2008.
Arendonk, Cornelius van and William Graham, « Sharīf », Enc. Islam, 2, IX,
pp. 329-337.
Asani, Ali S.A., “Family of the Prophet,” Enc. Qur’ān, II, pp. 176-177.
Baer, Gabriel, “Jerusalem’s Families of Notables and the Wakf in the Early 19 th
Century,” in David Kushner, ed., Palestine in the Late Ottoman Period:
Political, Social and Economic Transformations, Jerusalem, Leiden, Brill,
1986, pp. 109-122.
Bang, Anne K., Sufis and Scholars of the Sea. Family Networks in East Africa
1860-1925, London, RoutlegdeCurzon, 2003.
Bauden, Frédéric, Les Trésors de la Postérité ou les Fastes des Proches Parents du
Prophète, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2009.
Bayram, Fatih, “A Sufi Saint across Centuries: The Analysis of the Makalat-i
Seyyid Harun,” Turcica, 40, 2008, pp. 7-36.
Bazzaz, Sahar, Forgotten Saints. History, Power, and Politics in the Making of
Modern Morocco, Boston, Harvard University, Harvard Center for Middle
Eastern Studies, 2010.
Beinhauer-Kohler, Bärbel, Fātima bint Muhammad. Metamorphosen einer
frühislamischen Frauengestalt, Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz, 2002.
Benabdallah, ‘Abd al-‘Azīz, Ma‘lūmāt al-tasawwuf al-islāmī, vol. 2: Al-Tasawwuf
al-maghribī khilāl rijālātihi, Rabat, Dār Nashr al-Maʻrifa, 2001.

445

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Ben Achour, Mohammed El-Aziz, “Les Šarifs à Tunis au temps des Deys et
des Beys (XVIIe-XIXe siècle),” Oriente Moderno, XVIII (LXXIX), 2, 1999,
pp. 341-350.
Benkheira, Mohammed Hocine, Avner Giladi, Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen and
Jacqueline Sublet, La Famille en islam d’après les sources arabes, Paris,
Les Indes Savantes, 2013.
Bernheimer, Teresa, “Rise of Sayyids and Sādāt: the Āl Zubarā and other Alids
in Ninth to Eleventh Century Nishapur,” Studia islamica, 100-101, 2005,
pp. 43-69.
Id., The Alids, the first Family of Islam, 750-1200, Edinburgh, Edinburgh
University Press, 2013.
Boivin, Michel, L’Agha Khan et les Khojas: islam chiite et dynamiques sociales
dans le Sindh contemporain (XIXe-XXe s.), unpublished habilitation thesis,
University of Paris Ouest-Nanterre, 2010.
Bonte, Pierre et al., eds., al-Ansâb. La quête des origines, Paris, Éditions de la
Maison des Sciences de l’Homme, 1991.
Booth, Marilyn, “Exemplary Lives: Feminist Aspirations: Zaynab al-Fawwāz and
the Arabic Biographical Tradition,” Journal of Arabic Literature, 26/1-2,
1995, pp. 120-146.
Bosworth, C. Edmund, “Laḳab,” Enc. Islam 2, V, pp. 622-635.
Id., “Sayyid,” Enc. Islam 2, IX, p. 119.
Bottini, Laura, “Les Descendants du Prophète à Homs : Notes en marge,”
Oriente Moderno, XVIII (LXXIX), 2, 1999, pp. 351-373.
Bouquet, Olivier, “Famille, familles, grandes familles : une introduction,” in Les
grandes familles en Méditerranée orientale, Cahiers de la Méditerranée, 82,
2011, pp. 199-211.
Bulliet, Richard W., The Patricians of Nishapur: A Study in Medieval Islamic
Social History, Cambridge, Massachusetts, Harvard University Press, 1972.
Cahen, Claude, “Tribes, Cities and Social Organization,” in Richard N. Frye, ed.,
The Cambridge History of Iran, Volume 4: The Period from the Arab Invasion
to the Saljuqs, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1968, pp. 306-327.
Calmard, Jean, “Une famille de sādāt dans l’histoire de l’Iran : les Mar‘ašī,”
Oriente Moderno, XVIII (LXXIX), 2, 1999, pp. 413-428.
Canbakal, Hülya, “The Ottoman State and Descendants of the Prophet in
Anatolia and the Balkans (c. 1500-1700),” Journal of the Economic and
Social History of the Orient, 52/3, 2009, pp. 542-578.
Chaker, E. B. and Salem, “Beni Snassen/Beni Iznasen,” Encyclopédie Berbère,
Aix-en-Provence, X, 1991, pp. 1468-1470.
Chamberlain, Michael, Knowledge and Social Practice in Medieval Damascus,
1190-1350, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994.
Chambert-Loir, Henri and Anthony Reid, The Potent Dead: Ancestors, Saints and

446

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Heroes in Contemporary Indonesia, Crows Nest, Allen & Unwin-Honolulu,
University of Hawai’i Press, 2002.
Chaumont, Eric, “Yatīm,” Enc. Islam 2, XI, pp. 324-325.
Cherif, Mohamed, “Quelques aspects de la vie quotidienne des soufis andalous
d’après un texte hagiographique inédit du XIIe siècle,” Al-Andalus-Magreb.
Estudios Árabes e Islámicos, IV, 1996, pp. 63-79.
Chiabotti, Francesco, “The Spiritual and Physical Progeny of ʿAbd al-Karīm alQushayrī: A Preliminary Study in Abū Nasr al-Qushayrī’s (d. 514/1120)
Kitāb al-Shawāhid wa-l-Amthāl,” Journal of Sufi Studies, 2/1, 2013, pp. 46-77.
Chiara, Mariachiara and Francesca Sbardella, Famiglia monastica. Prassi
aggregative di isolamento, Bologna, Patron Editore, 2012.
Chodkiewicz, Michel, “La sainteté féminine dans l’hagiographie islamique,” in
Denise Aigle, ed., Saints orientaux, Paris, De Boccard, 1995, pp. 99-115.
Clancy-Smith, Julia, “The House of Zainab: Female Authority and Saintly
Succession in Colonial Algeria,” in Nikki Keddie and Beth Baron, eds.,
Women in Middle Eastern History. Shifting Boundaries in Sex and Gender,
New Haven-London, Yale University Press, 1991, pp. 254-274.
Clayer, Nathalie, Mystiques, État et société. Les Halvetis dans l’aire balkanique de
la fin du XVe siècle à nos jours, Leiden, Brill, 1994.
Cornell, Vincent, Realm of the Saint. Power and Authority in Moroccan Sufism,
Austin, University of Texas Press, 1998.
Cuisenier, Jean and André Miquel, “La terminologie arabe de la parenté.
Analyse sémantique et componentielle,” L’Homme, V/3-4, 1965, pp. 17-59.
Cuno, Kenneth M. and Manisha Desai, eds., Family, Gender and Law in a
Globalizing Middle East and South Asia, Syracuse, Syracuse University
Press, 2009.
Çıpan, Mustafa, “Mevlevîlik Terimleri,” in Nuri Şimsekler, ed., Konya’dan
Dünya’ya Mevlâna ve Mevlevîlik, Konya, Karatay Belediyesi, 2002,
pp. 165-178.
Dahlén, Ashk P., “Female Sufi Saints and Disciples: Women in the life of Jalāl
al-Dīn Rūmī,” Orientalia Suecana, LVII, 2008, pp. 46-62.
DeWeese, Devin, “The Politics of Sacred Lineages in 19th-Century Central Asia:
Descent Groups Linked to Khwaja Ahmad Yasavi in Shrine Documents
and Genealogical Charters,” International Journal of Middle East Studies,
31/4, 1999, pp. 507-530.
Doumani, Beshara, ed., Family History in the Middle East: Household, Property,
and Gender, Albany, State University of New York Press, 2003.
Dreher, Josef, “Autour d’une polémique à Istanbul au XVII e siècle : les parents
du Prophète étaient-ils musulmans ?,” in Rachida Chih, Denis Gril, Richard
McGregor and Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, eds., Le Soufisme à l’époque
ottomane / Sufism in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut Français
d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, pp. 291-307.

447

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Eddé, Anne-Marie, « Un traité sur les enfants d’un auteur arabe du XIIème
siècle », in Henri Dubois and Michel Zink, eds., Les âges de la vie au Moyen
Âge : actes du colloque du Département d’études médiévales de l’Université
Paris-Sorbonne et de l’Université Friedrich Wilhelm de Bonn, Provins, 16-17
mars, 1990, Paris, Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 1992, pp. 139149.
Eich, Thomas, Abū l-Hudā al-Sayyādī : Eine Studie zur Instrumentalisierung
sufischer Netzwerke und genealogischer Kontroversen im spätosmanischen
Reich, Berlin, Klaus Schwarz, 2003.
Eickelman, Dale F., Moroccan Islam: Tradition and Society in a Pilgrimage Center,
Modern Middle East Series 1, Austin and London, University of Texas
Press, 1976.
Id., “Personal and Family Relationships,” chapter in id., The Middle East and
Central Asia. An Anthropological Approach, Upper Saddle River, Pearson
Education, 4th ed., 2002.
Ewing, Katherine, “A Majzub and his Mother. The Place of Sainthood in a
Family’s Emotional Memory,” in Pnina Werbner and Helen Basu, eds.,
Embodying Charisma. Modernity, Locality and the Performance of Emotion
in Sufi Cults, London-New York, Routledge, 1998, pp. 160-183.
Ferhat, Halima, “Chérifisme et enjeux du pouvoir,” Oriente Moderno, 79/2, 1999,
pp. 473-481.
Gaborieau, Marc, Ni brahmanes, ni ancêtres, Colporteurs musulmans du Népal,
Nanterre, Société d’ethnologie, 1993.
Garcia-Arenal, Mercedes, “Imposture et transmission généalogique : une
contestation du sharifisme ?,” in Pierre Bonte, Edouard Conte and Paul
Dresch, eds., Emirs et présidents. Figures de la parenté et du politique dans le
monde arabe, Paris, CNRS, 2001, pp. 111-136.
Geertz, Clifford, Hildred Geertz and Lawrence Rosen, Meaning and Order in
Moroccan Society: Three Essays in Cultural Analysis, Cambridge, Cambridge
University Press, 1979.
Gellner, Ernest, Saints of the Atlas, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1969.
Geoffroy, Eric, Le soufisme en Égypte et en Syrie sous les derniers Mamelouks et
les premiers Ottomans : orientations spirituelles et enjeux culturels,
Damascus, Institut Franҫais d’Études Arabes de Damas, 1996.
Id., ed., Une voie soufie dans le monde, la Shādhiliyya, Paris, Maisonneuve et
Larose, 2005.
Giladi, Avner, Children of Islam: Concepts of Childhood in Medieval Muslim
Societies, Houndmills-London, Macmillan, 1992.
Id., Infants, Parents and Wet Nurses: Medieval Islamic Views on Breast-Feeding
and Their Social Implications, Leiden, Brill, 1999.
Id., “Children,” Enc. Qur’ān, I, pp. 301-303.
Id., “Family,” Enc. Qur’ān, II, pp. 173-176.

448

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Id., “Orphans,” Enc. Qur’ān, III, pp. 603-604.
Id., “Saghīr,” Enc. Islam 2, VIII, pp. 849-856.
Gölpınarlı, Abdülbâki, Mevlânâ’dan sonra Mevlevilik, Istanbul, İnkılâp ve Aka,
1982.
Gonnella, Julia, Islamische Heiligenverehrung im urbanen Kontext am Beispiel
von Aleppo (Syrien), Berlin, Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 1995.
Goody, Jack, The Oriental, the Ancient and the Primitive, Systems of Marriage and
the Family in the pre-Industrial Societies of Eurasia, Cambridge, Cambridge
University Press, 1990.
Gril, Denis, “Femme,” in Mohammad Ali Amir-Moezzi, ed., Dictionnaire du
Coran, Paris, R. Laffont, 2007, pp. 338-343.
Hagen, Gottfried, “He never took the past of Pastime and Play: Ideas of
Childhood in Ottoman Hagiography,” in I. Hauenschild, C. Schönig, P.
Zieme, eds., Scripta Ottomanica et Res Altaicae. Festchrift für Barbara
Kellner-Heinkele zu ihrem 60. Geburtstag (Veröffentlichung der Societas
Uralo-Altaica, Bd 56), Wiesbaden, Harrassowitz Verlag, 2002, pp. 95-118.
Hamzeh’ee, M. Reza, The Yaresan: A sociological, historical and religio-historical
study of a Kurdish community, Berlin, Klaus Schwarz Verlag, 1990.
Hathaway, Jane, The Politics of Households in Ottoman Egypt. The Rise of the
Qazdaghlis, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1997.
Havemann, Axel, “Some Reflections on the Problems of Research on Ašrāf.
Examples from 10th and 11th Century Syria,” Oriente Moderno, XVIII
(LXXXIX), 2, 1999, pp. 483-490.
Ho, Engseng, The Graves of Tarim. Genealogy and Mobility across the Indian
Ocean, Berkeley-Los Angeles, University of California Press, 2006.
Hoffman-Ladd, Valerie J., “Mysticism and Sexuality in Sufi Thought and Life,”
Mystics Quarterly, 18/3, 1992, pp. 82-93.
Husaynī Naqshbandī, Sayyid ‘Abd al-Rahmān, Sādāt-i Naqshbandī wa
jumbishhā-yi millī kurd dar gudhar-i tārīkh, Orumiye, Mū’assasa-yi
Intishārātī Husaynī, 1381/2002.
Işın, Ekrem, “İstanbulda Mevlevi Şeyh aileleri ve Mevleviliğin bir imparatorluk
tarikatı olarak örgütlenmesi,” in Emrehan Küey, ed., Birinci uluslararası
Mevlana, mesnevi ve mevlevihaneler sempozyumu bildirileri, Manisa, Celal
Bayar Üniversitesi, 2002, pp. 33-40.
Id., “Mevleviliğin Tarihsel Temelleri: Sultan Veled ve Çelebilik Makamının
Kuruluşu,” in Nuri Şimşekler, ed., 3. Uluslararası Mevlana Kongresi, Konya,
Selçuk Üniversitesi, 2004, pp. 95-98.
James, Boris, “Une ethnographie succincte de “l’entre-deux kurde” au Moyen
Âge,” Études Rurales, 186, 2010, pp. 21-42.
Kably, Mohamed, Société, pouvoir et religion au Maroc à la fin du Moyen Âge,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 1986.

449

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Khalidi, Omar, “Sayyids of Hadhramaut in Early Modern India,” Asian Journal
of Social Science, 32/3, pp. 329-352.
Kılıç, Rüya, “Sayyids and Sharīfs in the Ottoman State: on the Borders of the
True and the False,” Muslim World, 96/1, 2006, pp. 21-35.
Kimber, Richard, “The qurʾanic law of inheritance,” Islamic Law and Society, V/3,
1998, pp. 291-325.
Kisliakov, Nikolai A., Ocherki po istorii sem’i i braka u narodov srednei azii i
kazakhstana, St-Petersburg, Nauka, 1969.
Kister, Meir, “The Sons of Khadīja,” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam, 16,
1993, pp. 59-95.
Köprülü, Mehmed Fuad, Early Mystics in Turkish Literature, ed. and transl.
Robert Dankoff and Gary Leiser, London-New York, Routledge, 2006.
Lammens, Henri, Fāṭima et les filles de Mohammed. Notes critiques pour l’étude
de la Sīra, Roma, Sumptibus Pontificii Instituti Biblici, 1912.
Landau-Tasseron, Ella, “The ‘Cyclical Reform’: A Study of the Mujaddid
Tradition,” Studia Islamica, 70, 1989, pp. 79-117.
Lecerf, Jean, “‘Ā’ila,” Enc. Islam 2, I, pp. 305-306.
Lévi-Provençal, Évariste, Historiens des Chorfa. Essai sur la littérature historique
et biographique au Maroc du XVIe au XXe siècle, Paris, Maisonneuve et
Larose, [1922] 2001.
Marín, Manuela, “Exemplary Women in Early Islam,” in Kari E. Borresen, ed.,
Christian and Islamic Gender Models in Formative Traditions, Roma, Herder,
2004, pp. 149-161.
Id., “Women and Sainthood in Medieval Morocco,” in Sofia Boesch Gajano and
Enzo Pace, eds., Donne tra saperi e poteri nella storia delle religioni, Brescia,
Morcelliana, 2007, pp. 283-298.
Id., “Images des femmes dans les sources hagiographiques maghrébines : les
mères et les épouses du saint,” in Nelly Amri and Denis Gril, eds., Saint et
sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 2007, pp. 235-247.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine, “Maîtres, cheikhs et ancêtres : saints du Delta à
l’époque mamelouke,” in Richard McGregor and Adam Sabra, eds., Le
développement du soufisme en Égypte à l’époque mamelouke, Cairo, Institut
Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2006, pp. 41-50.
Id., “Le saint musulman en père de famille,” in N. Amri and D. Gril, eds., Saint et
sainteté. Le regard des sciences de l’homme, colloque de Tunis, 1-6 mai 2005,
Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose-MMSH, 2008, pp. 249-267.
Mayeur-Jaouen, Catherine and Nicolas Michel, “Cheikhs, zāwiya-s et confréries
du Delta central : un paysage religieux autour du XVIe siècle, ” in
Mohammed Afifi et al., eds., Sociétés rurales ottomanes / Ottoman Rural
Societies, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2005, pp. 139-162.

450

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Meier, Fritz, Abū Sa‘īd-i Abū l-Khayr (357-440/967-1049). Wirklichkeit und
Legende, Acta Iranica 11- Third Series, Tehran-Liege, Pahlavi National
Library, 1976.
Mernissi, Fatima, Le Harem politique. Le Prophète et les femmes, Paris, Albin
Michel, 1987.
McGregor, Richard J.A., Sanctity and Mysticism in Medieval Egypt. The Wafā’
Sufi Order and the Legacy of Ibn ‘Arabī, Albany, State University of New
York Press, 2004.
Id., “Conceptions of the Ultimate Saint in Mamluk Egypt,” in R. McGregor &
Adam Sabra, eds., Le développement du soufisme en Égypte à l’époque mamelouke, Cairo, Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2006, pp. 177-187.
Id., “Is this the end of Medieval Sufism? Strategies of Transversal Affiliation in
Ottoman Egypt,” in Rachida Chih and Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, eds., Le
Soufisme à l’époque ottomane / Sufism in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut
Français d’Archéologie Ottomane, 2010, pp. 83-99.
Membrado, Mojan, “Jeyhūnābādi, Hājj Ne‘mat-Allāh Mokri,” Enc. Iranica, XIV,
fasc. 6, 2008, pp. 641-643.
Meriwether, Margaret L., The Kin who Count. Family and Society in Ottoman
Aleppo 1770-1840, Austin, University of Texas Press, 1999.
Michaux-Bellaire, Edouard, “Quelques tribus de montagnes de la région du
Habt,” Archives Marocaines, 17, 1911.
Minorsky, Vladimir, “Notes sur la secte des Ahl-i Haqq,” Revue du Monde
Musulman, volumes 40-41, 1920, pp. 19-98.
Id., “Notes sur la secte des Ahl-i Haqq (deuxième partie),” Revue du Monde
Musulman, volumes 44-45, 1921, pp. 205-302.
Id., “Etudes sur les Ahl-i Haqq (I-Toumari = Ahl-i Haqq),” Revue de l’Histoire des
Religions, vol. 97, 1928, pp. 90-105.
Moosa, Matti, Extremist Shiites: The Ghulāt Sects, Syracuse, Syracuse University
Press, 1988.
Morimoto, Kazuo, “Toward the Formation of Sayyido-Sharifology: Questioning
Accepted Fact,” The Journal of Sophia Asian Studies, 22, 2004, pp. 87-103.
Id., ed., Sayyids and Sharifs in Muslim Societies: The Living Links to the Prophet,
London-New York, Routledge, 2012.
Moteki, Akashi, “Discourse Concerning the Genealogy (nasab) of al-Shāfiʿī and
its Formation,” Annals of Japan Association for Middle East Studies, 23/1,
2007, pp. 147-173.
Muminov, Ashirbek, Anke von Kügelgen, Devin DeWeese, Michael Kemper,
eds., Genealogical Charters and Sacred Families: Nasab-namas and Khoja
Groups Linked to the Ishaq Bab Narrative, 19th-21th Centuries, Almaty, Daik
Press, 2008.

451

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Newman, Andrew, “The Role of the Sadat in Sefevid Iran: Confrontation or
Accommodation?,” Oriente moderno, 79/2, 1999 pp. 577-596.
Ocak, Ahmet Yaşar, Kültür tarihi kaynağı olarak Menâkıbnameler (Metodolojik
Bir Yaklaşım), Ankara, Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1992.
Id., Osmanlı İmparatorluğu’nda Marjinal Sûfîlik: Kalenderîler (XIV-XVII.
Yüzyıllar), Istanbul, Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1999.
Panāhī, Mahīn, Akhlāq-i ‘Ārifān. Akhlāq-i mutasawwifa az khilāl-i mutūn-i
ʻirfānī az āghāz tā awā’il-i qarn-i haftum, Tehran, Intishārāt-i rawzana,
1378/1999.
Papas, Alexandre, Soufisme et politique entre Chine, Tibet et Turkestan. Étude sur
les Khwâjas naqshbandis du Turkestan oriental, Paris, Jean Maisonneuve,
2005.
Id., “Shaykh Succession in the Classical Naqshbandiyya: Spirituality, Heredity
and the Question of Body,” Asian and African Area Studies, 7/1, 2007,
pp. 36-49.
Id., Mystiques et vagabonds en islam. Portraits de trois soufis qalandar, Paris,
Editions du Cerf, 2010.
Id., “Joining the Dots between the Ḫwāğas of East Turkestan: A Šajara Scroll
Preserved at the Louvre Museum,” Der Islam, 88, 2012, pp. 352-365.
Peskes, Esther, Al-‘Aidarūs und seine Erben. Eine Untersuchung zu Geschichte
und Sufismus einer hadramitischen Sāda-Gruppe vom fünfzehnten bis zum
achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Freiburger Islamstudien, vol. 23, Stuttgart, Franz
Steiner, 2005.
Id., “Der Heilige und die Dimensionen seiner Macht. Abū Bakr al-‘Aydarūs
und die Saiyid-Sūfīs von Hadramawt,” Quaderni di Studi Arabi, 13, 1995,
pp. 41-72.
Powers, David S., Muḥammad Is Not the Father of Any of Your Men. The Making
of the Last Prophet, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2009.
Raven, Wim, “Sīra,” Enc. Islam 2, IX, pp. 660-663.
Rebaï, Amel, “Approche de la vie d’un couple saint : la légende d’un conflit,” in
Nelly Amri and Denis Gril, eds., Saint et sainteté dans le christianisme et en
islam. Le regard des sciences de l’homme, problèmes et méthodes, colloque de
Carthage, 1-6 mai 2005, Paris, Maisonneuve et Larose, 2007, pp. 269-278.
Reichmuth, Stefan, The World of Murtadā al-Zabīdī (1732-91). Life, Networks and
Writings, Oxford, Gibb Memorial Trust, 2009.
Reynolds, Dwight F., “Childhood in one thousand years of Arabic
autobiography,” Edebiyat, 7, 1997, pp. 379-392.
Rispler-Chaim, Vardit, “Nušūz between Medieval and Contemporary Islamic
Law: The Human Rights Aspect,” Arabica, 39, 1992, pp. 315-327.
Roded, Ruth, “Gendered Domesticity in the Life of the Prophet: Tawfīq alHakīm’s Muhammad,” Journal of Semitic Studies, 47/1, 2002, pp. 67-95.

452

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Id., “Women and the Qur’ān,” Enc. Qur’ān, V, pp. 523-541.
Rosenthal, Franz, “Nasab,” Enc. Islam 2, VII, pp. 967-968.
Rubin, Uri, “Pre-Existence and Light: Aspects of the Concept of Nūr
Muhammad,” Israel Oriental Studies, V, 1975, pp. 62-119.
Id., “Prophets and Progenitors in the Early Shī’a tradition,” Jerusalem Studies in
Arabic and Islam, 1, 1979, pp. 41–65.
Sabra, Adam, “Household Sufism in Sixteenth-Century Egypt: the Rise of alSâda al-Bakrîya,” in Rachida Chih and Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen, eds., Le
soufisme à l’époque ottoman / Sufism in the Ottoman Era, Cairo, Institut
Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 2010, pp. 101-118.
Sabri, Tahani, L’hagiographie de Fāṭima d’après le Biḥār al-Anwār de
Muḥammad Bāqir Mağlisī (m. 1111/1699), Ph.D. Dissertation, École
Pratique des Hautes Études, Paris, 1969.
Shahar, Shulamit, “Infants, Infant Care and Attitudes towards Infancy in
Medieval Lives of Saints,” The Journal of Psychohistory, 10, 1983, pp. 281-309.
Sánchez Sandoval, Juan José, “La literatura hagiográfica en el Magreb
occidental,” Al-Andalus-Magreb, VIII-IX, 2000-2001, pp. 11-35.
Scarcia-Amoretti Biancamaria and Laura Bottini, eds., The Role of the
sâdât/ashrâf in Muslim History and Civilization, Oriente moderno, 18, 1999.
Schimmel, Annemarie, My Soul is a Woman. The Feminine in Islam, New YorkLondon, Continuum, 1997.
Schmitz, Jean, “Le souffle de la parenté. Mariage et transmission de la baraka
chez des clercs musulmans de la Vallée du Sénégal,” L’Homme, 154, 2000,
pp. 241-278.
Sebti, Abdelahad, “Chérifisme, symbole et histoire,” Oriente Moderno, 79/2, 1999,
pp. 629-638.
Id., “Lignées savantes, généalogie et pouvoir,” in Saber religioso y poder politico
en el islam : actas del simposio internacional, Granada del 15 al 18 de octubre
de 1991 [Escuela de estudios arabes de granada], Madrid, Agencia espanola
de cooperacion internacional, 1994, pp. 275-284.
Sedgwick, Mark, Saints and Sons. The Making of the Rashīdi Aḥmadi Sufi Order,
1799-2000, Leiden-Boston, Brill, 2005.
Serjeant, Robert B., The Saiyids of Hadramawt, London, University of Cambridge
Press, 1957.
Shafī‘ī Kadkanī, Muhammad Rizā, Qalandariyya dar Tārīkh. Digardīsīhā-yi yak
Īdeolojī, Tehran, Sukhan, 1386/2007.
Sharon, Moshe, “Ahl al-bayt, People of the House,” Jerusalem Studies in Arabic
and Islam, 8, 1986, pp. 169-184.
Soltānī, Mohammad ‘Alī, Ilāt va Tavāyef-i Kermānshāhān, vol. 2, Tehran,
Movaffaq, 1372/1993.

453

SELECTIVE GENERAL BIBLIOGRAPHY

Id., Tārikh-i khāndānhā-yi Haqīqat va Mashāhir-i Mote'akhkhir-i Ahl-i Haqq dar
Kermānshāh (2nd ed), Tehran, Sohā, 1381/2002.
Spellberg, David A., “Writing the unwritten life of the Islamic Eve: menstruation
and the demonization of motherhood,” International Journal of Middle East
Studies, XXVIII/3, 1996, pp. 305-324.
Stowasser Freyer, Barbara, “Mary,” Enc. Qur’ān, III, pp. 288-296.
Id., “Wives of the Prophet,” Enc. Qur’ān, V, pp. 506-521.
Szombathy, Zoltán, “Genealogy in Medieval Muslim Societies,” Studia Islamica,
95, 2002, pp. 5-35.
Talmon-Heller, Daniella, “ʿIlm, Shafāʿah, and Barakah: The Resources of Ayyubid
and Early-Mamluk Ulama,” Mamlūk Studies Review, 13/2, 2009, pp. 23-45.
Tonaga, Yasushi, “Sufi Saints and Non-Sufi Saints in Early Islamic History,” The
Journal of Sophia Asian Studies, 22, 2004, pp. 1-13.
Triaud, Jean-Louis and David Robinson, La Tijaniyya, une confrérie à la conquête
de l’Afrique, Paris, Karthala, 2003.
Touati, Houari, Entre Dieu et les hommes. Lettrés, saints et sorciers au Maghreb
(17e siècle), Paris, Éditions de l’EHESS, 1994.
Id., “L’Arbre du Prophète. Prophétisme, ancestralité et politique au Maghreb,”
Revue des mondes musulmans et de la Méditerranée, 91-94, 2000, pp. 137-156.
Tucker, Judith, Women, Family and Gender in Islamic Law, Cambridge,
Cambridge University Press, 2008.
Van Bruinessen, Martin, Agha, Shaikh and State. The Social and Political
Structures of Kurdistan, London, Zed Books, 1992.
Veccia Vagliari, Laura, “Fāṭima,” Enc. Islam 2, II, pp. 841-850.
Vryonis, Speros, “The Muslim Family in 13th-14th Century Anatolia as Reflected
in the Writings of the Mawlawi Dervish Eflaki,” in Elizabeth Zachariadou,
ed., Halcyon days in Crete I. A symposium held in Rethymnon 11-13 January
1991. The Ottoman Emirate 1300-1389, Rethumnon, Crete University Press,
1993, pp. 213-223.
Welsford, Thomas, Four Types of Loyalty in Early Modern Central Asia. The
Tūqāy-Tīmūrid Takeover of Greater Mā Warā al-Nahr, 1598-1605, LeidenBoston, Brill, 2013.
Williams, Caroline, “The Cult of ‘Alid Saints in the Fatimide Monuments of
Cairo,” Muqarnas, III, 1985, pp. 39-60.
Winter, Michael, “The Ashrāf and Niqābat al-Ashrāf in Egypt in Ottoman and
Modern Times,” Asian and African Studies, vol. XIX (Mars 1985), pp. 17-41.
Yanagihashi, Hiroyuki, “Solidarity in an Islamic society: ʿasaba, family, and the
community,” in Hiroyuki Yanagihashi, ed., The Concept of Territory in
Islamic Law and Thought, London, Kegan Paul International, 2000, pp. 51-67.
Zarcone, Thierry, Ekrem Işın, Arthur Buehler, eds., Journal of the History of
Sufism, The Qâdiriyya Order, Special Issue 1-2, 2000.

454

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

List of Contributors
Alberto Fabio Ambrosio, Dominican, is researcher at the Dominican Research
Institute (DOSTI) and associate member of the French Institute of Anatolian Studies (IFEA) and the National Centre for Scientific Research
(CNRS). He has published: Vie d’un derviche tourneur. Doctrine et rituels
du soufisme au XVIIème siècle, Paris, 2010 ; transl. into French of Sadik
Yalsizuçanlar, Itinéraires d’un soufi. Récits d’Ibn ‘Arabi, Paris, 2013 (with
R. Sctrick).
Nelly Amri is Professor of medieval History at the Faculté des Lettres, des Arts
et des Humanités of Manouba University in Tunis. She is a specialist of the
history of Sufism, hagiography and sanctity in Islam. Her recent publications include: Les saints en islam : les messagers de l’espérance. Sainteté et
eschatologie au Maghreb aux XIVe et XVe siècles, Paris, 2008 ; La sainte de
Tunis. Présentation et traduction de l’hagiographie de ‘Âisha al-Mannûbiyya,
Paris, 2008, and Sufism in Ifrīqīya in the Medieval period, Tunis, 2009 (in
Arabic).
Michel Boivin is Senior Researcher at the National Centre for Scientific Research
(CNRS). His work mainly focuses on the Muslim communities of the
Indian Subcontinent in the colonial and post-colonial periods. Among his
last publications, one can mention: Artefacts of Devotion. A Repertoire of
the Qalandariyya in Sehwan Sharif, Sindh (Pakistan), Karachi, 2011, and Les
Aghâ Khâns et les Khojas. Islam chiite et dynamiques sociales dans le souscontinent indien (1843-1954), Paris, 2013.
Francesco Chiabotti is a PhD candidate at the University of Provence (IREMAM).
His dissertation analyses the life, influence and legacy of the Sufi mystic
and theologian ‘Abd al-Karîm al-Qushayrî. He has published: “The
Spiritual and Physical Progeny of ‘Abd al-Karîm al-Qushayrî: A Preliminary Study in Abû Nasr al-Qushayrî’s (d. 514/1120) Kitāb al-Shawāhid wal-Amthāl,” Journal of Sufi Studies, 2/1, 2013; “Nahw al-qulûb al-saghîr:
La ‘Grammaire des cœurs’ de ‘Abd al-Karîm al-Qushayrî. Présentation et
traduction annotée,” Bulletin d’études orientales, 58, 2008-2009.
Rachida Chih is a Research Fellow at the National Centre for Scientific Research
(CNRS). She is currently working on Sufism in Egypt in the 17th and 18th
century. Her publications include: Le soufisme au quotidien. Confréries
d’Égypte au XXe siècle, Paris, 2000; Le soufisme à l’époque ottomane/Sufism
in the Ottoman Era (ed. with C. Mayeur-Jaouen), Cairo, 2010, and Sufism,
Literary Production and Printing in the 19th century (ed. with C. MayeurJaouen and R. Seesemann), Würzburg, forthcoming.
Avner Giladi is a Professor in Islamic studies at the University of Haifa. His
publications include: Children of Islam: Concepts of Childhood in Medieval
Muslim Society, Houndmills and London, 1992; Infants, Parents and Wet

455

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

Nurses: Medieval Islamic Views on Breastfeeding and Their Social Implications, Leiden, 1999, and La famille en islam d’après les sources arabes (with
H. Benkheira, C. Mayeur-Jaouen et J. Sublet), Paris, 2013. His book on the
social history of midwifery in pre-modern Muslim societies will be published by Cambridge University Press in 2014.
Denis Gril is Professor Emeritus of Arabic and Islamology at the Université de
Provence. He is a specialist of Islamic thought and Sufism. He published,
notably: Ibn ‘Arabî, Le dévoilement des effets du voyage, introduction,
edition and translation, Combas, 1994; Le saint et son milieu ou comment
lire les sources hagiographiques (ed. with Rachida Chih), Cairo, 2000, and
Saint et sainteté dans le christianisme et l’islam. Le regard des sciences de
l’homme (ed. with Nelly Amri), Paris, 2007.
Manuela Marín is a Research Professor (retired) at the CSIC (Consejo Superior
de Investigaciones Científicas), Madrid. She is a specialist of the cultural
and social history of al-Andalus, having published extensively on this and
other topics, such as the history of women in medieval Islam. In recent
years she has worked on aspects of sainthood in medieval Morocco.
Her publications include:The Formation of al-Andalus. History and Society,
vol. 1, Hampshire, 1998 (ed.) and Vidas de mujeres andalusies, Malaga 2006.
Catherine Mayeur-Jaouen is Professor of History at the National Institute of
Oriental Languages and Civilizations (INALCO). She is a historian of
Modern and Contemporary Islam. She recently published: Pèlerinages
d'Égypte, Histoire de la piété copte et musulmane (XVe-XXe siècles), Paris,
2005; Le Moyen-Orient par les textes (XIXe-XXIe siècle) (with A.-L. Dupont
and Ch. Verdeil), Paris, 2011, and La Famille en islam d’après les sources
arabes (with M. H. Benkheira, A. Giladi and J. Sublet), Paris, 2013.
Mojan Membrado is a lecturer in the Eurasia Department, National Institute of
Oriental Languages and Civilizations (INALCO), and an associate postdoctoral researcher at the National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS).
Her research interests are “normativity” in esoteric and syncretistic communities; religious groups facing the modernity; status of women in religious communities. Her publications include: “Jeyhunābādi, Hājj NeʿmatAllāh Mokri,” in Encylopaedia Iranica ; Discernement et Tradition. Introduction, édition critique et commentaires de Forqân al-Akhbâr de Hâjj
Ne’mat-Allâh Jeyhûnâbâdi, Paris, forthcoming.
Kazuo Morimoto is Associate Professor of Islamic and Iranian history at the
Institute for Advanced Studies on Asia, University of Tokyo. Besides
works in Japanese, his publications in English include Sayyids and Sharifs
in Muslim Societies: The Living Links to the Prophet, London, 2012 (ed.) and
“Keeping the Prophet’s Family Alive: Profile of a Genealogical Discipline”
(book chapter; forthcoming).

456

LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

Alexandre Papas is Research Fellow at the National Centre for Scientific
Research (CNRS). He is a historian of Islam and Central Asia. His last
publications include: Mystiques et vagabonds en islam. Portraits de trois
soufis qalandars, Paris, 2010; Central Asian Pilgrims. Hajj Routes and Pious
Visits between Central Asia and the Hijaz (ed. with Th. Welsford and Th.
Zarcone), Berlin, 2011, and L’Autorité religieuse et ses limites en terres
d’islam (ed. with N. Clayer and B. Fliche), Leiden, 2013.
Esther Peskes received her PhD from the University of Bochum, and currently is
a Privatdozent at the University of Bonn. Her publications include:
Muhammad b. ‘Abdalwahhāb (1703-92) im Widerstreit. Untersuchungen zur
Rekonstruktion der Frühgeschichte der Wahhābīya, Beirut, 1993; al-‘Aidarūs
und seine Erben. Eine Untersuchung zu Geschichte und Sufismus einer
hadramitischen sāda-Gruppe vom fünfzehnten bis zum achtzehnten Jahrhundert, Stuttgart, 2005, and “Western Arabia and Yemen (fifth/eleventh
century to the Ottoman Conquest)” in The New Cambridge History of
Islam, Cambridge, 2010.

457

Thematic Index
Adult / Adulte, 7, 75, 78-79, 81, 84-89,
91, 97, 101, 102, 132, 239, 264, 276,
409
ʿAʾila, 8, 169, 179, 192
Agnate, agnatic / Agnat, agnatique, 9,
10, 15, 110, 128-129, 147, 150, 273
Ahl al-bayt, Ahl-e bayt, 9, 15-16, 27, 30,
38-39, 47, 63-64, 69-70, 108-112, 116122, 163-164, 166, 174, 186, 196, 327,
332-333, 346, 441
Alliance, 9, 24, 36, 50, 84, 170, 196, 215,
223, 235-237, 260-261, 270, 295-296
Ancestor, forefather / Ancêtre, 8-11, 13,
18-19, 47, 120, 127, 132, 136, 138141, 145-147, 150, 153-154, 159, 160167, 174-178, 184-185, 187-190, 194196, 198-201, 207, 256, 259, 260, 327333, 336-337, 397, 399, 435
Baraka, 12, 17, 18, 20-21, 106, 144, 159,
161, 163, 175, 182, 195, 198, 221, 358,
361, 378, 386-387, 409-410
Brother / Frère, 7, 13, 15-16, 22-23, 28,
30-31, 33, 48, 61, 81-82, 86-87, 91-92,
101, 110, 131-133, 136, 139, 148, 167168, 175, 177, 182, 185, 187, 190-193,
204, 232, 239-240, 243-244, 273, 276,
278-279, 281, 287-288, 290-291, 294,
297, 312, 336, 351-353, 356, 362, 364365, 369, 380, 383, 408-409, 433, 440
Brotherhood / Confrérie, 8, 10-11, 19, 21,
23, 134, 142, 150-152, 154, 159-163,
165, 167-179, 181-185, 187-196, 237,
273, 305, 425
Brother-in-law, 23, 192, 203, 276
Celibate, celibacy / Célibataire, célibat,
6-7, 17-18, 67, 247, 292, 420, 424-425
Child, childhood / Enfant, enfance, 7-8,
10, 14-15, 18, 22-23, 27-30, 35, 47-49,
61, 64-69, 73, 75-102, 162, 168, 174175, 177, 181, 185, 194, 213, 240-242,
257-259, 261, 264-267, 270-271, 279-

280, 285-286, 288, 292, 295-296, 298,
308, 336, 344-345, 351-353, 359, 364365, 368-369, 371-374, 381-387, 389,
401-402, 405, 408-409, 413-414, 420423, 425-426, 428, 431-433, 441
Clan, 21, 30, 32, 47, 49, 127, 199, 204,
208, 223, 296, 327-329, 358
Concubine, 28, 42, 63, 180, 266
Consanguinity, 9, 10
Couple, 22, 61, 166, 181, 264, 379, 411412
Cousin / Cousine, cousinage 13, 15, 24,
27, 31, 48, 49, 61, 66, 91, 159, 166,
169, 174, 180, 183-184, 186, 192-194,
196, 203, 206, 261, 281, 296, 329, 365,
387, 401
Daughter / Fille, 7, 12-13, 15-16, 18, 22,
28, 32, 37-38, 42, 47-50, 54, 61-64, 66,
69, 84, 89, 94, 135, 139-140, 161-162,
167-168, 174, 181, 194, 203, 206, 223,
226, 240-242, 258, 261, 263-264, 266267, 271, 279-281, 291-292, 295-296,
298, 308, 336, 343-344, 350, 366, 369,
379, 382, 384-385, 394, 399, 400, 403,
406, 411-415
Daughter-in-law, 407
Descendant, 8, 10-12, 14-16, 19-20, 2324, 32, 50, 69, 76, 87, 110, 125-127,
129, 133, 135-139, 143-144, 146, 148149, 151-153, 159-163, 165, 167, 169177, 183-186, 190, 192, 194-196, 198,
217, 223-224, 226-227, 233, 235, 237,
239-240, 242-244, 248-249, 256, 259260, 273-274, 276, 283, 290, 296, 309,
318-319, 328-329, 331-332, 336
Disciple, 10, 16-19, 22-23, 27, 35, 38-40,
50, 69, 160, 162, 165, 168-172, 174177, 179, 185-188, 190, 192, 199, 201,
203, 205-214, 221, 230, 248, 255, 258,
268, 270, 274-276, 278, 281, 298-299,
308, 312-316, 318-320, 338, 343-344,

458

THEMATIC INDEX

346, 349-353, 361-363, 365, 373-374,
376, 382, 384-387, 400, 412, 426, 428429
Domestic, domesticity / Domestique,
domesticité, 22, 37, 58, 344, 354, 374,
404, 423-424
Dynasty / Dynastie, 7, 24, 76, 93, 215216, 309, 328-329, 334, 348, 354
Education, 7, 12, 14-15, 17-18, 75, 78-80,
92, 95-97, 99, 102, 110, 131, 206-208,
210, 213, 259, 261-262, 265-266, 271,
275-276, 288, 363, 389, 397, 422, 438,
441
Elite, 9, 11, 20-21, 24, 70, 135, 139, 144,
148-149, 152, 154, 193, 201, 215, 397
Endogamy / Endogamie, 22, 178, 239,
272, 292, 296, 319, 365
Eponym / Eponyme, 10, 110-111, 125,
153, 159, 229, 234, 239, 243, 250, 260,
273
Faqīh, fuqahāʾ, 110, 113, 171, 292, 360,
363, 372, 377, 378, 383, 401
Father / Père, 7-8, 12-13, 16-19, 22-24,
27-31, 35, 37, 42, 47-48, 50, 53, 55,
60-65, 76, 81-84, 87, 89-94, 96-98,
101, 125-126, 128, 130-132, 134-136,
139-144, 146-148, 153, 159, 162, 164,
166-167, 169, 175, 177, 180-181, 183186, 190, 192, 194, 199-200, 206-208,
213, 215, 228, 237, 239, 240, 242-243,
245, 254-255, 257, 259-262, 264-266,
270-272, 277, 279, 281-282, 284, 286290, 292-295, 298-299, 308-324, 338,
347, 350-351, 364, 373, 382-387, 393,
397, 401-406, 411-413, 422, 425-426,
429, 431, 441-442
Father-in-law / Beau-père, 18, 50, 166,
259, 262, 264, 266-270, 276, 292, 299
Filial, filiation, 9-10, 12-13, 17, 29-30, 35,
160, 167-169, 184, 186, 189-190, 261,
299, 320-322, 324, 374, 422

Genealogy / Généalogie, 7, 9-10, 14, 1820, 47, 78, 84, 125-128, 130, 136, 143147, 150, 152-153, 160, 162-165, 167,
174, 185, 189-190, 192, 194-195, 198199, 215, 258, 260, 273, 276, 298, 300,
329, 331-332, 339, 346, 386, 397, 400,
402
(Great-) grandfather / (Arrière-) grandpère, 14-15, 27-28, 47, 50, 64-65, 80,
89-90, 93, 140-145, 167, 183, 200,
256, 260, 270-271, 273, 282-286, 295,
297, 311, 347, 397, 400, 405
(Great-) grandson / (Arrière-) petit-fils,
10, 14-15, 23, 64, 83, 127, 136, 139,
144, 180-182, 189-190, 194, 199, 201202, 239, 243-244, 247, 258-260, 264265, 273-274, 281-282, 284-285, 287,
292, 296-297, 386, 400
Grandmother / Grand-mère, 47, 265,
280, 282, 297, 342, 400, 405, 407,
415
Hadith, 7-9, 11, 12, 15-16, 21, 28-29, 35,
36, 38-39, 42, 45-47, 49, 50-51, 53, 54,
57-59, 63-66, 68, 70, 78, 87-90, 96,
100, 108, 110-111, 118-120, 166, 212,
255, 258-259, 261, 263-265, 272, 274,
277, 281-283, 286-287, 289, 291, 294,
296-298, 315, 346-347, 350, 360, 375,
377, 388, 420, 422, 426, 428-429
(Auto-) hagiography, hagiograph /
(Auto-) hagiographie, hagiographe,
8, 11, 14-17, 19-22, 27-29, 74, 77-80,
82, 85, 87, 91, 103, 126-130, 132, 138,
145-147, 149, 159-160, 162-163, 165,
168, 171-175, 184-188, 190, 193, 199,
201, 207, 216, 218, 227, 234-235, 240,
243, 246-247, 249, 258-259, 262, 264,
267, 273-274, 280, 285, 291-292, 295,
297, 309-317, 319-323, 343-347, 349351, 354-355, 356-357, 359, 362, 364,
366, 368-372, 374-375, 378-379, 381,
384, 387-389, 394-396, 398-400, 402-

459

THEMATIC INDEX

403, 407-410, 415, 422, 425-431, 438,
440, 442
Hanafī / Hanafite, 170, 183
Heir, heirship, heritage / Héritier,
héritage, 7-8, 11, 17-20, 35, 66, 69,
76, 113, 117, 119, 132, 134-136, 146147, 152-153, 160-161, 165, 167, 169,
173, 184-186, 189-190, 194-196, 199,
208, 212, 242, 255, 257, 259, 264, 270,
276, 290, 295-296, 298, 311, 313
Home / Foyer, 12, 25, 162, 173, 183, 192193, 266, 267, 291, 372, 403, 408,
423-424, 426, 431
Household, 9, 19, 22-25, 172, 191, 255256, 259, 287, 295, 310, 405-406, 412,
431
Husband / Mari, époux, 7, 12, 17-18, 22,
30, 32, 38, 42, 46, 49-51, 61, 68, 87,
95, 181, 183, 240, 265, 281, 344, 364365, 367, 370, 379, 388, 402-404, 406,
408-409, 411-413, 420
Imam, 8, 11, 16, 63, 112, 122, 125, 164,
166, 191, 195, 220, 222, 239, 262,
265-266, 270, 275-277, 279-281, 288,
290, 293, 295, 298, 327, 331-333, 335339, 345
Intimate, intimacy / Intime, intimité, 2223, 25, 27, 31-32, 40, 51-52, 54-55, 62,
89-93, 95, 131, 145, 311-312, 321, 323324, 343, 346-347, 349, 359, 367, 370,
381-382, 384, 388-389, 400, 428, 438
Jihād, 88, 201-202
Karāma, karāmāt, see Miracle, 106, 114115, 129, 175, 348, 352, 354, 356, 358,
363, 367-369, 384
Khalīfa, 7, 69, 173, 191, 208, 229-230,
311, 384
Khānaqāh, 19, 256, 268-269, 276, 278,
280, 284, 293
Khāndān, 16, 19, 24, 220, 222-240, 242250, 327

Lineage / Lignage, lignée, 9, 11, 13-14,
16-17, 19-22, 24-25, 27, 30-31, 38, 47,
80, 107, 127-128, 133, 148-149, 151152, 159, 165-166, 199, 210, 215-216,
220, 222-224, 226-229, 234-235, 239,
244, 246-248, 250, 255, 257,262, 270,
276, 296, 309-310, 316, 318, 323-324,
327, 329, 367, 381, 397, 415
Love / Amour, 17, 23, 29, 32, 39-40, 45,
47, 49-50, 54, 63-65, 67-68, 87, 89, 91,
113, 117, 121, 166, 206, 214, 216, 257,
271, 276-277, 313, 315-316, 318, 321,
338, 347-348, 364, 375-376, 382, 385,
414, 421-423, 428, 432
Mālikī / Mālikite, 171, 183, 188, 216,
345, 378
Marriage / Mariage, 9, 16-19, 22-23, 29,
32, 34-35, 40-41, 49-51, 57, 61, 68, 91,
95, 135-136, 148, 168, 182, 184, 206,
237-240, 242, 247, 260-264, 267, 296297, 301, 308, 351, 365, 367, 369, 382,
384, 387, 394, 402, 407, 411-412, 414415, 420-423, 425
Master / Maître, 17-19, 22-24, 27, 30, 35,
38-40, 43, 50, 68-70, 97-99, 108-109,
115, 118, 123, 134, 138, 140, 142,
147-148, 175, 185, 186-188, 190, 200,
203-213, 223, 234, 236, 255-259, 261278, 280, 283-284, 288, 290-291, 293295, 297-299, 308-309, 311, 313-318,
320, 322-324, 329, 333, 336, 344, 347,
351, 355-356, 359-362, 375-376, 400,
412, 421, 423-426, 430, 438
Matriarchy, 442
Matrilineal, 165, 270
Miracle, see Karāma, 18, 20, 22, 67, 80,
85, 106-107, 114-115, 121, 123, 129,
165, 175, 185, 188, 246-248, 293, 407408, 410, 428
Mother / Mère, 16-17, 22-23, 27, 29-31,
34-35, 47-48, 55, 61, 65, 77, 80-84,

460

THEMATIC INDEX

86-89, 92-95, 100-101, 130- 131, 143,
165-166, 178, 192, 194, 228, 240, 257,
260-261, 265-266, 271, 280, 287, 292,
295-296, 311-312, 338, 342, 345, 350351, 384, 387, 389, 399-403, 406-409,
413-415, 420, 422-423, 425-433, 435438, 440-442
Muhammad, see Prophet, 8, 10, 14-16,
27, 32, 35-36, 38-39, 457-51, 58-59,
62, 66, 70, 76-81, 86-91, 93, 95, 97,
101-104, 110-111, 120, 127, 139, 164166, 186, 193, 195, 211, 213, 223, 239,
312, 332, 345-346, 374, 382, 389, 401,
421, 428-430, 432-433, 439-441
Nasab, 9, 14-15, 18-20, 24, 47, 106-107,
110, 118, 120-121, 159-167, 169, 173174, 183, 190-192, 196, 200, 211, 215,
273
Network, 9, 19, 25, 134, 147, 151, 160,
192, 235, 292, 295-296, 298, 397, 402,
406-407
Orphan, orphanhood / Orphelin, 16-18,
27, 47-48, 68, 87, 90, 261, 374, 387,
409, 432-433, 435, 438-442
Parents, 27, 29-30, 33, 41, 64, 67, 79, 8689, 92, 102, 130, 257, 299, 364, 401,
411-414, 420, 422, 425-427, 438
Patriarchy, patriarchal / Patriarcat,
patriarcal, 12, 20, 23, 92, 95, 209,
239, 242-243, 263, 273, 414, 425, 441
Patrilineal / Patrilinéaire, 9-10, 12, 19,
24, 92, 95, 166, 239, 242, 249,-250,
263, 441
Patrilocal, 23, 411, 413
Pilgrimage / Pèlerinage, 109, 166, 182,
268, 281, 287-288, 291-292, 356, 358,
363, 366, 368, 371, 384, 399, 422, 430
Prophet / Prophète, see Muhammad, 89, 11-17, 20-21, 23-25, 27-70, 76, 78,
80-81, 83-84, 86, 89-91, 93-95, 98100, 106-108, 110-114, 118-122, 127,

133, 137, 139-141, 145, 149, 151-152,
154, 159, 161, 163-164, 166-167, 174175, 182-183, 186, 189-190, 195-196,
198, 206, 211, 213-214, 216-217, 221223, 268, 286, 312, 315, 318, 327, 332,
335, 339, 345-346, 350, 355, 361, 364367, 369-378, 382-389, 397, 401, 428430, 440-441
Qawm, 9, 205, 327
Qurʾān / Coran, 27-35, 38-40, 43-48, 53,
55, 60, 63-68, 73, 78, 81-83, 87, 90,
92, 95-96, 98-100, 111-113, 119, 140,
183, 240, 247, 265, 291-292, 294, 311,
331, 360, 366, 375, 378, 385, 411, 422,
426, 429-430, 433
Reformist, reformism / Réformiste,
réformisme, 154, 188, 210
Rite, ritual / Rite, rituel, 16-17, 19, 22-23,
83, 131,134, 146-147, 170-171, 174,
183, 222-224, 226, 229-230, 233, 235,
238-246, 248-250, 313, 330-331, 333339
Sayyid, seyyed, sāda, 7, 14, 16, 20, 22, 73,
127-130, 133, 137-138, 141, 146-149,
152-154, 163, 165, 168, 174, 177, 179181, 183, 190, 208, 222-224, 229, 232233, 236- 240, 242-246, 248-249, 266267, 281-283, 334, 336, 425
Servant / Serviteur, 8, 19, 22, 33, 41, 51,
53, 55, 61-62, 68, 100, 172, 207-208,
262, 295, 320, 324, 329, 343, 346, 354,
361, 367-369, 376, 378, 380, 404, 435,
442
Sexual, sexuality / Sexuel, sexualité, 32,
44, 313, 377, 421, 425
Shajara, 19
Sharīf, ashrāf, shurafāʾ, 8, 14, 16, 20, 40,
111-112, 118, 120, 127, 161, 163, 165,
167, 174, 181, 184, 192-193, 198-199,
203, 206, 210, 215-217, 274, 378, 410412, 414-415

461

THEMATIC INDEX

Shaykh / Cheikh, 7, 10-11, 13, 16-18, 20,
22-23, 25, 109, 116, 129-130, 136-149,
151-152, 159-163, 165-174, 176-179,
181-185, 187, 189-194, 196, 199-205,
208-215, 219, 232, 257, 262, 277, 280,
285, 291, 293, 299, 344-375, 377-389,
400, 403-404, 422, 426, 439
Shrine / Mausolée, 16, 19, 21, 154, 241,
287, 320, 336-383, 426, 429
Silsila, 14, 20, 128, 133-134, 137, 151-153,
160-161, 165, 168-169, 173-174, 178,
189, 192, 195, 211, 222, 336, 356
Sister / Sœur, 16, 30-31, 45, 48, 50-51, 61,
167, 183, 194, 240, 271, 276, 292, 297,
383
Slave, slavery / Esclave, esclavage, 8, 4849, 62, 134, 143, 266, 354, 405-406
Solidarity / Solidarité, 10, 25
Son / Fils, 7, 10, 13, 16-18, 22-24, 28, 3031, 33, 35-36, 38, 40, 45, 47-48, 51,
57, 61, 63-66, 74-76, 81-82, 84, 89-99,
101, 125-126, 130-137, 139-141, 143144, 153, 159, 162-163, 167, 170, 174178, 180-187, 189-192, 194-196, 198199, 204-209, 228, 239, 243, 245, 247,
256-261, 265-267, 270-274, 276-290,
292-299, 308-324, 328-329, 336, 349350, 352, 358, 363-365, 368, 373, 379,
382-387, 408-409, 420-422, 425-433,
438, 441-442
Son-in-law / Gendre, 7, 15, 18, 23, 31, 38,
50, 62-63, 135, 166, 174, 264, 281,
413

Succession, 23-25, 69, 178, 185, 194, 273,
317, 321, 323-324
Sunna, 17, 47, 67-68, 90, 95, 120, 355,
365, 374, 385, 387, 389, 421
Transmission, 8, 12-13, 17-19, 35, 51, 69,
83, 159-160, 185, 188-190, 194-195,
200, 208-209, 212-213, 216, 220, 223,
238, 240, 242-244, 248, 255, 257-259,
263-265, 271, 281-287, 289-290, 292,
294-298, 310-312, 318, 321, 324, 349350, 386, 389, 402, 441
Tribe / Tribu, 11, 22, 24-25, 28, 32-34, 4749, 86, 127-128, 137, 166, 172, 198,
200, 202-204, 209, 223-224, 230, 248,
250, 260-261, 282, 291, 310, 327-328,
330, 333, 410-412, 414-415
(Great-) Uncle / (Grand-) Oncle, 7, 12,
15, 22-23, 27, 32, 47-48, 66, 76, 78,
81, 93, 140, 143-144, 146-147, 149,
166, 177, 184, 199, 204, 255, 261, 283,
287, 293, 386-387, 397
Uxorilocal, uxorilocality / Uxorilocal
uxorilocalité, 18, 23, 264, 411, 413
Wife, wives / Femme, épouse, 7, 15-19,
22-23, 27, 29-63, 66-69, 72, 82, 87,
89-90, 94, 96, 110, 139, 166-168, 181,
183, 192, 194, 237, 240, 256, 264,
266-267, 276, 292, 295, 303, 306, 308,
311, 342-357, 359-389, 394, 400-407,
409-415, 420-421, 423, 428-429, 441
Zāwiya, 11, 13, 19, 22-23, 162-163, 170171, 173-177, 183, 198-199, 201-206,
208, 213, 373

462

Islamkundliche Untersuchungen
Georg Leube

Die Rezepte der Freiburger alchemistischen Handschrift
des þAbd al-¹abbÁr al-HamaªÁnÍ
Edition, Übersetzung und Kommentar
IU 315. Berlin 2013. Pb 331 pp., 978-3-87997-427-6
Stéphane Dudoignon/Christian Noack (eds.)

Allah’s Kolkhozes
Migration, De-Stalinisation, Privatisation, and the New Muslim
Congregations in the Soviet Realm (1950s–2000s)
IU 314. Berlin 2014. Pb 542 pp., 978-3-87997-421-4
Suhanna Shafiq

Seafarers of the Seven Seas
The Maritime Culture in the Kitab ʿAjāʾib al-Hind by Buzurg Ibn Shahriyār
(d. 399/1009)
IU 311. Berlin 2013. Pb 181 pp., 978-3-87997-424-5
Alexandre Papas/Thomas Welsford/Thierry Zarcone (eds.)

Central Asian Pilgrims
Hajj Routes and Pious Visits between Central Asia and the Hijaz
IU 308. Berlin 2011. Pb 331 pp., 978-3-87997-399-6
Steffen Erdle

Ben Ali’s ‘New Tunisia’ (1987–2009)
A Case Study of Authoritarian Modernization in the Arab World
IU 301. Berlin 2010. Pb 515 pp., 978-3-87997-366-8
Belkacem Belmekki

Sir Sayyid Ahmad Khan and the Muslim Cause in British India
IU 292. Berlin 2010. Pb 179 pp., 978-3-87997-377-4

Denis Hermann/Fabrizio Speciale (eds.)

Muslim Cultures in the Indo-Iranian World
during the Early-Modern and Modern Periods
IU 290. Berlin 2010. Pb 596 pp., 978-3-87997-364-4

Matthias Weinreich

“We are here to stay”
Pashtun Migrants in the Northern Areas of Pakistan
IU 285. Berlin 2010. Pb 120 pp., 978-3-87997-356-9
Klaus Schwarz Verlag GmbH • Fidicinstr. 29 • D-10965 Berlin
Tel. +30-916 82 749 • +30-916 82 751 • Fax +30-322 51 83

www.klaus-schwarz-verlag.com

Studien zum Modernen Orient
SMO 13
Fawzi Habashi

Prisoner of All Generations
My Life in the Homeland Egypt
Berlin 2011, Pb. 292 pp., 978-3-87997-350-7
SMO 19
Claus Schönig / Ramazan Çalık / Hatice Bayraktar (Hg.)

Türkisch-Deutsche Beziehungen
Perspektiven aus Vergangenheit und Gegenwart
Berlin 2012. Br. 426 S., 978-3-87997-386-6
SMO 21

Christiane Cygan

Zur Ordnung des Staates
Jungosmanische Intellektuelle und ihre Konzepte
in der Zeitung »Hürriyet« (1868–1870)
Berlin 2012. Br. 315 S., 978-3-87997-407-8
SMO 23

Tobias Lang

Die Drusen in Libanon und Israel
Geschicht, Konflikte und Loyalitäten
einer religiösen Gemeinschaft in zwei Staaten
Berlin 2013. Br. 174 S., 978-3-87997-416-0
SMO 26
Jesko Schmoller

Achieving a Career, Becoming a Master
Aspirations in the Lives of Young Uzbek Men
Berlin 2014. Br. 238 pp., 978-3-87997-440-5
SMO 27

Amer Nizar Ghrawi

An Elusive Hope
State Reform in Syria, 2000–2007
Berlin 2015. Br. 382 pp., 978-3-87997-444-3

Klaus Schwarz Verlag GmbH • Fidicinstr. 29 • D-10965 Berlin
Tel. +30-916 82 749 / 751 • Fax +30-322 51 83

www.klaus-schwarz-verlag.com
dist@klaus-schwarz-verlag.com