The reference to “Daysan the Dualist” is pure fable. This Daysan appears frequently in Arabic history as the legendary founder of the Zindiqs, a name given to the followers of the pre-Islamic cults of Mesopotamia and Persia, who found it convenient to make external profession of Islam. Thus Masʿudi (Muruj adh-Dhahab, viii. 293) says that “many heresies arose after the publication of the books of Mani, Ibn Daysan, and Marcion, translated from Persian and Pahlawi by ʿAbdullah ibn al-Muqaffaʿ and others.” Ibn al-Muqaffaʿ was a converted Zoroastrian who took a leading part in translating Persian and Syrian works into Arabic under the first two ʿAbbasids, and was generally regarded as privately adhering to his earlier religious views.
It will be noted that Zindiqism is mentioned as propagated by Ibn al-Muqaffaʿ, and is traced to Ibn Daysan amongst others, and this is precisely the same as the one whom Maqrizi names as the reputed progenitor of Maymun. Evidently the charge which lay at the bottom of this latter statement originally meant that Maymun was a Zindiq, and so could be described as a follower of Ibn Daysan, not that he actually was Ibn Daysan’s son, which would be an absurd anachronism. For the name Ibn Daysan refers to a perfectly genuine historical person: the Ibn Daysan of the Arabic writers was the Bar Daisan of Syriac literature, a convert from paganism to Christianity who died about A.D. 222, and whose followers formed an important sect at Edessa for several centuries, though in Muslim times he appears as a semi-legendary character. We possess a work probably written by one of his pupils called “A treatise on Fate” in the Christian writers, from which two lengthy extracts appear in Eusebius: Praep. Evangel. vi. 9, one of which is cited also in Clementine Recognitions ix., but is headed “Book of the Laws of Countries” in the Syriac text discovered by Cureton, and published by him in 1855. Various references are made to Bar Daisan in Euschius, Epiphanius, and other Church Fathers, as well as in the dialogues ascribed to Adamantius, but our best information as to his teaching is to be obtained from Moses bar Kepha (Patrol. Syr., I., ii. 513-5), whose summary is fully endorsed by the controversial essays of St. Ephraim, who settled at Edessa in 363 when the Bar-daisanites were a real force there. Bar Daisan’s doctrine, which is a kind of Christianized Zoroastrianism, is described by Prof. Burkitt in his introduction to Mitchell’s edition of St. Ephraim’s Prose Refutations.
Marcion represents an earlier and more definitely Christian system which at one time had a very wide extension, and probably was the medium through which Bar Daisan learned Christianity. It was a kind of dualistic system with two powers, the Good God and the Evil One. The Evil One was the creator whom the Jews worshipped as God, and the Good God sent his Son on earth to save men from this delusion: as in Zoroastrianism the two rival powers maintain an unceasing strife until the day of judgment when the good God will be finally victorious. From St. Ephraim we learn that the Marcionites long retained their hold in Northern Mesopotamia side by side with the Bar-daisanites.
Mani shows very much these same views in a Zoroastrian setting, but with a strong element of Marcionite Christianity. Mani’s work came some twenty years later than Bar Daisan, and he, in his early days, had been a disciple of the Mandeans, the Gnostic sect which Justin Martyr calls “the baptists” βαπτισταί (Justin M. Dial. 80) from their frequent ablutions, who were settled in the marsh land between Basra and Wasit on the lower Euphrates. All three, Bar Daisan, Marcion, and Mani, draw largely from the same source the eclectic mixture of old Babylonian religion, of Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, and Christianity, which developed in the lower Euphrates valley, though Marcion claimed to be, and no doubt believed himself, an orthodox member of the Catholic Church, whilst Mani was no less confident in regarding himself as a Zoroastrian. The whole of the different religious ideas of the Euphrates valley were welded together by an element of Greek philosophy of the neo-Pythagorean type, which seems to have filtered in through the Jews who were settled there in force, and had shared in the common life of the Hellenistic world at the time when the neo-Pythagorean school was taking form, and showing marked sympathy towards the various forms of Eastern religious speculation. All this kind of eclectic speculation, half religious and half philosophical, lived on, and was still alive in the third cent. of the Hijra; indeed, it had spread and formed a new centre at Harran, quite distinct in its character, but obviously drawing from the same sources, and, moreover, it quickened into new life when the speculations of the neo-Platonic school were introduced through a Syriac medium. Traditionally all this type of thought prevalent in Mesopotamia was connected with the names of Marcion, Mani, and Bar Daisan, though probably very few Muslims had any clear idea of the respective parts these three characters had played, but simply cited them as heresiarchs of exceptional notoriety.
But Maymun was without doubt a real character. Abu l-Feda refers to him as a native of Qaraj or Ispahan, who professed to be a Shiʿite, but was really a Zindiq, i.e., a follower of the heresies of Marcion, Bar Daisan, and Mani, or else a materialist (Abu l-Feda, Annales Moslem., ii. 311). Used in this sense “materialist” means an Aristotelian, i.e., one who believed in the eternity of matter and so did not accept the Qurʾanic teaching of creation ex nihilo. Ibn Khaldun states that Maymun migrated to Jerusalem with a number of his disciples and became well known as a magician, fortune teller, astrologist, and alchemist (cf. Quatremère: Journ. Asiatique, Aug., 1836). The Fatimid advocates, as represented by the Druze writers, fully admit the descent of the Fatimids from Maymun, but claim that he was of the family of ʿAli (cf. De Sacy: Chrestom., ii., note 3 on page 95), which seems as though Maymun’s position as an ancestor of Abdullah’s family was beyond question.
In the passage already quoted Maqrizi describes ʿAbdullah as “learned in all the canon law and customs and sects,” so that it seems that he, the fortune teller’s son, was credited with being the original teacher and founder of the sect. Perhaps Maymun himself was the founder of a minor off-shoot of the Ismaʿilian body,—we hear of followers who went with him to Jerusalem,—and ʿAbdullah succeeded him as head of this group but, himself a student of philosophy like so many other Shiʿites, and participating in rationalistic opinions, used his position to form a kind of free-masonry, in which he developed more fully the principles already indicated by Jaʿfar as-Sadiq, and so made the Aristotelian and neo-Platonic teaching somewhat modified in a Persian guise, the “hidden meaning” of the Qurʾan. Probably he too was responsible for the efficient organizing of the sect, although its missionary propaganda was, as has been noted, reproduced from that of the Hashimites. He is said to have been the author of a book called al-Mizan, “the balance” (Abulfeda: Ann. Mus., ii. 310). According to Nuwairi, who used the history of Abu l-Hasan b. ʿAli Akhu-Muhsin, himself a descendant of Ismaʿil b. Jaʿfar and a contemporary of the chief activity of the Ismaʿilian sect, ʿAbdullah assumed Shiʿite views, not because he wanted to get men to recognise the Imamate of Ismaʿil or his son Muhammad, but simply as a device to attract adherents: such was Akhu-Muhsin’s view, no doubt a prejudiced one, but of some weight as undoubtedly the judgment of many contemporaries. It is, however, quite as probable that the ʿAlid theories were derived from the existing sect of which Maymun had been head, and were left unaltered by his son when he took it in hand.
In order to make proselytes, ʿAbdullah’s missionaries used to propose obscure questions about the Qurʾan and the doctrines of traditional Islam, with the object of showing that as generally held these doctrines were contrary to reason, and so required an explanation. The revelation of Islam, they said, was difficult, and hence there was much diversity of opinion and many sects and schools of thought, all of which caused an infinite amount of disedification and much trouble. The reason of these diverse opinions is that each man follows his own private judgment and forms his own conjectures, with the result that many end in utter unbelief. But God would not give a revelation full of such obscurity and ambiguity as the only guidance for men. It must be that there is some available guidance, some authoritative teacher who can explain the doctrine so that it may be both clear and certain, and such an infallible teacher implies an Imam. The daʿi then gave illustrations of the obscurities and difficulties which men are not able to understand by the light of their own reason. The pilgrims at Mecca throw stones and run between the two hills, Safa and Merwa,—what is the purpose and meaning of this? Why is it that a woman who has omitted a fast and prayer because prevented by reasons of personal impurity is required to fast afterwards to make up for her omission, but is not required to make up for the omitted prayer? Why did God take six days to create the world when he could quite well have created it in an hour? What does the Qurʾan mean when he refers in a figurative manner to the “way”? What is the meaning of the reference to the two angels who write and take note?—why cannot we see them? What really are the torments of hell? What mean the words “and over them on that day eight shall bear up the throne of thy Lord”? (Qur., 69, 17). What is Iblis?—Who are Yajuj and Majuj (Qur., 18, 93), and Harut and Marut (Qur., 2, 96)? Why have there been created seven heavens, and seven earths, and why are there seven verses in the Fatha? and many similar questions all designed to show that the Qurʾan is full of references to things which are not explained and need explaining, but to which the orthodox teachers are unable to give an explanation. All these are the conventional arguments which are commonly employed to prove that revelation is incomplete without an authorised teacher.
They then continued to ask other questions which throw a curious light on the kind of problems which interested the Muslims of the day, or which could be thought as deserving of attention. Why have men ten fingers and ten toes?—why are four fingers on each hand divided into three phalanges, whilst the thumbs have only two each?—why has the face seven openings?—why are there twelve dorsal vertebrae and seven cervical vertebrae? etc., constantly suggesting some mystic meaning as lying under particular numbers. They cited “on earth are signs of men of firm belief, and also in your own selves; will ye not then consider them?” (Qur., 51, 20-21): “God setteth forth these similitudes to men that haply they may reflect” (Qur., 14, 30), and “we will shew them our signs in (different) countries and among themselves, until it become plain to them that it is the truth.”
These suggestions produced doubt in the minds of many hearers, and gave the impression that the missionary had thought more deeply on the problems of religion than the ordinary teachers; and so the hearers were induced to ask the daʿi to instruct them and reveal the answers to some of the problems he proposed. Forthwith he would begin a discourse dealing with some of these questions, and then suddenly check himself: the religion of God is too precious to be disclosed to those who are not worthy and who may, perhaps, treat it with contempt: God has always required a pledge of those to whom he has disclosed his mysteries. Thus we read, “And remember that we have entered into covenant with the prophets and with thee, and with Noah, and Abraham, and Moses, and Jesus the son of Mary; and we formed with them a strict covenant” (Qur., 33, 7), and again “some there were among the faithful who made good what they had promised to God” (id., 23),—“O believers, be faithful to your engagements” (Qur., 5, 1),—“be faithful in the covenant of God when ye have covenanted, and break not your oaths after ye have pledged them: for now ye have made God to stand surety for you” (Qur., 16, 93), and many similar passages. “So now,” the daʿi said, “pledge yourself, putting your right hand in mine, and promise me with the most inviolable oaths and assurances that you will not betray our secret, that you will assist no-one against us, that you are laying no snare for us, that you will use the truth only in speaking with us, and that you will not join any of our enemies against us.” By this means they discovered how far the would-be proselyte was ready to be submissive and obedient, and accustomed him to act in absolute conformity with his superiors. If the proselyte readily took this pledge, the missionary next said, “Give us now an offering from your goods and first fruits which shall be a preliminary to the disclosure which we are about to make to you of our doctrine, and a pledge which you will give for it.” By this they tested how far the proselyte was prepared to make sacrifices to join the sect, and how far he could be trusted to be a loyal and devoted member. Thus the proselyte was admitted to the First Grade which consisted of those who accepted the principle that the Qurʾan has both an external literal sense and an inner esoteric meaning which needs the help of an interpreter. The inner meaning was termed batin, or iman, “faith,” as distinguished from the external islam, and this distinction was justified by the words of Qur. 40, 14. “The Arabs of the desert say, ‘we believe.’ Say: ‘Ye believe not, but rather say, ‘we profess Islam’; for the faith has not yet found its way into your hearts.’”
The Second Grade. When the disciple had fully adopted the ideas taught in the first grade, and was convinced that men have fallen into error by accepting the traditional teachings of Islam, the daʿi used the ordinary arguments to persuade them that there was need of an authoritative teacher, and without such a teacher men are unable to please God or obey His laws. Great stress was laid upon the unreliability of private judgment and the need of guidance and authoritative teaching.