The Mystics of Islam

by Reynold Alleyne Nicholson

An excellent concrete illustration of the process here described will be found in the well-known case of Tawakkul Beg, who passed through all these experiences under the control of Mollā-Shāh. His account is too long to quote in full; moreover, it has recently been translated by Professor D. B. Macdonald in his Religious Life and Attitude in Islam (pp. 197 ff.). I copy from this version one paragraph describing the first of the four stages mentioned above.

“Thereupon he made me sit before him, my senses being as though intoxicated, and ordered me to reproduce my own image within myself; and, after having bandaged my eyes, he asked me to concentrate all my mental faculties on my heart. I obeyed, and in an instant, by the divine favour and by the spiritual assistance of the Sheykh, my heart opened. I saw, then, that there was something like an overturned cup within me. This having been set upright, a sensation of unbounded happiness filled my being. I said to the master, ‘This cell where I am seated before you—I see a faithful reproduction of it within me, and it appears to me as though another Tawakkul Beg were seated before another Mollā-Shāh.’ He replied, ‘Very good! the first apparition which appears to thee is the image of the master.’ He then ordered me to uncover my eyes; and I saw him, with the physical organ of vision, seated before me. He then made me bind my eyes again, and I perceived him with my spiritual sight, seated similarly before me. Full of astonishment, I cried out, ‘O Master! whether I look with my physical organs or with my spiritual sight, always it is you that I see!’”

Here is a case of autohypnotism, witnessed and recorded by the poet Jāmī:

“Mawlānā Saʿduddīn of Kāshghar, after a little concentration of thought (tawajjuh), used to exhibit signs of unconsciousness. Any one ignorant of this circumstance would have fancied that he was falling asleep. When I first entered into companionship with him, I happened one day to be seated before him in the congregational mosque. According to his custom, he fell into a trance. I supposed that he was going to sleep, and I said to him, ‘If you desire to rest for a short time, you will not seem to me to be far off.’ He smiled and said, ‘Apparently you do not believe that this is something different from sleep.’”

The following anecdote presents greater difficulties:

“Mawlānā Nizāmuddīn Khāmūsh relates that one day his master, ʿAlāʾuddīn ʿAttār, started to visit the tomb of the celebrated saint Mohammed ibn ʿAlī Hakīm, at Tirmidh. ‘I did not accompany him,’ said Nizāmuddīn, ‘but stayed at home, and by concentrating my mind (tawajjuh) I succeeded in bringing the spirituality of the saint before me, so that when the master arrived at the tomb he found it empty. He must have known the cause, for on his return he set to work in order to bring me under his control. I, too, concentrated my mind, but I found myself like a dove and the master like a hawk flying in chase of me. Wherever I turned, he was always close behind. At last, despairing of escape, I took refuge with the spirituality of the Prophet (on whom be peace) and became effaced in its infinite radiance. The master could not exercise any further control. He fell ill in consequence of his chagrin, and no one except myself knew the reason.’”

ʿAlāʾuddīn’s son, Khwāja Hasan ʿAttār, possessed such powers of ‘control’ that he could at will throw any one into the state of trance and cause them to experience the ‘passing-away’ (fanā) to which some mystics attain only on rare occasions and after prolonged self-mortification. It is related that the disciples and visitors who were admitted to the honour of kissing his hand always fell unconscious to the ground.

Certain saints are believed to have the power of assuming whatever shape they please. One of the most famous was Abū ʿAbdallah of Mosul, better known by the name of Qadīb al-Bān. One day the Cadi of Mosul, who regarded him as a detestable heretic, saw him in a street of the town, approaching from the opposite direction. He resolved to seize him and lay a charge against him before the governor, in order that he might be punished. All at once he perceived that Qadīb al-Bān had taken the form of a Kurd; and as the saint advanced towards him, his appearance changed again, this time into an Arab of the desert. Finally, on coming still nearer, he assumed the guise and dress of a doctor of theology, and cried, “O Cadi! which Qadīb al-Bān will you hale before the governor and punish?” The Cadi repented of his hostility and became one of the saint’s disciples.

In conclusion, let me give two alleged instances of ‘the obedience of inanimate objects,’ i.e. telekinesis:

“Whilst Dhu ’l-Nūn was conversing on this topic with some friends, he said, ‘Here is a sofa. It will move round the room, if I tell it to do so.’ No sooner had he uttered the word ‘move’ than the sofa made a circuit of the room and returned to its place. One of the spectators, a young man, burst into tears and gave up the ghost. They laid him on that sofa and washed him for burial.”