Ismailism

Professor Azim Nanji

Chaper in Islamic Spirituality: Foundations, Ed. Seyyed Hossein Nasr, London: Routledge & Keegan Paul Ltd, 1987, pp. 179-198.

Abstract
This overview article on Ismailism focuses on some of the key concepts, underlying the Ismaili interpretation of Islam governing Ismaili beliefs. The article starts off with a brief historical background. It touches upon the da’wa activities and some of the challenging circumstances under which it operated.

The early literature of the Ismailis is preserved in Arabic and then Persian languages. Some of the major works of the more prominent dai’s such as Abu Ya’qub al-Sijistani, al-Mu’ayyad fi’l-din Shirazi and Nasir Khusraw are discussed in the article.

Ismailism is a part of the Shi’ite branch of Islam whose adherents constitute at present a small minority within the wider Muslim ummah. They live in over twenty-five different countries, including Afghanistan, East Africa, India, Iran, Pakistan, Syria, Yemen, the United Kingdom, North America, and also parts of China and the Soviet Union.

Historical Background

(continues from Part I , Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII & Part VIII)

Themes of Quest and Transformation

Among the accounts of the activity of Ismaili da’is, there occurs a type of narrative, a description almost “mythical” in form, which describes key moments in the birth and development of an inner consciousness, revealing at the level of personal and spiritual life the themes of quest and transformation. The idea of the quest is at the heart of the notion of ta’wil, for by this tool of comprehension one begins the search for inner meaning. Simultaneously, as is evident in the analysis of prayer, the quest becomes the prelude for a transformation, which makes possible the acquisition of this knowledge of inner meaning as one ascends the steps of the hierarchy of faith. Besides an autobiographical Ode written by Nasir-i Khusraw, there are in Ismaili literature works such as the Kitab al-‘alim wa’l-ghulam,¹⁶ and accounts preserved in the tradition of the ginans among the Nizari Ismailis of the subcontinent¹⁷ which contain such narratives, symbolic of the two themes. The art of narratives lies in the way in which the motifs of seeking, initiation, and transformation are evoked and woven together so that the tapestry that emerges in each case reflects a common design and pattern, even though the “action” of the narrative is set in differing contexts.

The autobiographical account of Nasir-i Khusraw’s conversion to Ismailism refers to a dream that jars him from what has hitherto been a life of sloth, and he subsequently undertakes a pilgrimage to Mecca. On the way, he encounters and is converted to Ismailism, and he is subsequently invested with the important role of preaching as a key member of the Fatimid da’wa. It is, however, in an ode celebrating this conversion that the pattern of ta’wil woven into the narrative is made apparent. His sleep becomes the equivalent of the state of ignorance; the figure in the dream is the catalyst who causes the act of awakening leading to the quest; and the subsequent resolution is symbolised in the arrival at the balad al-amin (Quran XCV, 31), the Cairo of the narrative, but in reality the secure abode of true understanding, which is the goal of the quest. The transformation is consummated through the act of commitment, the taking of the oath of allegiance to the Imam, the symbolism of which is evoked in the Quran (XLVIII, 18).¹⁸

In the Kitab al-‘alim wa’l-ghulam, the protagonist Abu Malik is a type of spiritual exile who, as part of his mission, has left his home. He enters a town incognito and mingles with the crowd before encountering a disciple. The narrative then unfolds in a series of dialogues, so that the process of pedagogy in Ismailism becomes evident. This process is a threefold one. Initially, the disciple’s sense of quest is aroused; he is sensitised to the meaning of symbols, the use of ta’wil, which leads from the letter to the spirit. His desire for knowledge having now awakened, the disciple is eager to know more about the figure in whose hands are placed the keys to inner meaning and to the spiritual heaven, namely, the Imam. In a further stage, he acquires a new name, symbolising his entry into a new pattern of understanding and way of life and, in a final stage, the act of transformation is marked in a ceremony. What transpires at this ceremony remains unrecorded. The text does not reveal the secret; it has only been communicated personally to the disciple.

In the narratives recorded in the ginan literature, the description of the activities of the Ismaili da’is, also called pirs, reflect a sequence of action with certain interactive features, such as the following: (1) the anonymous arrival at a well-known centre of religious activity; (2) the performance of miracles and the winning over of a disciple or disciples; (3) a period of confrontation and even rejection; (4) eventual triumph and mass conversion; (5) departure.

The literal testimony of these narratives is, as in the last two cases, but a mirror of the original prototype in which the disciples pass through an initiatory process. A key set of images is that of the “raw” and the “cooked,” where the disciple, a princess in one case, has taken a vow to daily taste cooked meat until the secret of who her bridegroom is to be is revealed to her. The day that the pir is in the vicinity, her gamekeeper, unable to find a deer to hunt for her meat, encounters the animals of the jungle around the pir, mesmerised by the playing of his song. Through a miracle, the pir gives a piece of the deer’s meat to the gamekeeper. When the princess cooks and tastes it, she, as if awakened, recognises the nearness of her bridegroom’s presence and seeks him out. In time a marriage takes place, bringing the metaphor of the bride and groom and their marriage, marking the transition from quest to transformation, to union.

Although all the narratives vary in context and in the setting of their action, they project identical themes, wherein the events lead through a quest to a transformation, at the heart of which lies the knowledge of universals. The image that best exemplifies this act of cognition and illumination is the Quranic symbol of divine radiant light, nur (XXIV, 35).

H. Corbin has attempted to illustrate the image of the Imam as nur (light) in the works of the Fatimid and post-Fatimid period to elucidate the essential elements of what he calls “the little known and scarcely studied form of Shi’ite Ismaili Gnosis,”¹⁹ where reference is made to the complex image of the pillar of light (haykal nurani), by whose power the members of the hierarchy of faith are raised upward until they are all gathered together in the qiyamah.

The later period of Ismailism reflects features that are analogous in some respects to Sufi theosophy, this similarity being a result of common contexts and mutual influence. The language of devotion is one aspect where the influence is apparent – in particular, where the element of religious experience seeks to illuminate the apprehension by the intellect and the soul of the Haqiqah. It is poetry rather than prose that captures best these moments of contemplation and acts of awakening. This mode of expression is already present in the qasidah of Nasir-i-Khusraw and is echoed also in the ginans, as the examples below show. One is a description of Nasir’s initiation and transformation, and the other evokes the moments of bliss and illumination in the ginans, which can be described only in terms of a “spiritual concert.”

That sage set his hand upon his heart
(a hundred blessings be on that hand and breast!)
and said, “I offer you the remedy
of proof and demonstration; but if you
accept, I shall place a seal upon your lips
which must never be broken.” I gave my consent and he
affixed the seal. Drop by drop and day by day
he fed me the healing potion, till
my ailment disappeared, my tongue became
imbued with eloquent speech; my face, which had
been pale as saffron now grew rosy with joy;
I who had been as stone was now a ruby;
I had been dust – now I was ambergris.
He put my hand into the Prophet’s hand,
I spoke the Oath beneath the exalted Tree
so heavy with fruit, so sweet with cooling shade.

Have you ever heard of a sea which flows from fire?
Have you ever seen a fox become a lion?
The sun can transmute a pebble, which even the hand
of Nature can never change, into a gem.
I am that precious stone, my Sun is he
by whose rays this tenebrous world is filled with light.
In jealousy I cannot speak his name
in this poem, but can only say that for him
Plato himself would become a slave. He
is the teacher, healer of souls, favoured of God,
image of wisdom, fountain of knowledge and Truth.
Blessed the ship with him for its anchor,
blessed the city whose sacred gate he ever guards!

O Countenance of Knowledge, Virtue’s Form,
Heart of Wisdom, Goal of Humankind,
O Pride of Pride; I stood before thee, pale
and skeletal, clad in a woollen cloak,
and kissed thine hand as if it were the grave
of the Prophet or Black Stone of the Kaaba.
Six years I served thee; and now, wherever I am
so long as I live I’ll use my pen and ink,
my inkwell and my paper … in praise of thee!²⁰

When the unrecited name makes its abode in the interior
it becomes a lamp which illumines the heart;
the glories of true contemplation are felt within
The world’s tinsel can no longer dazzle.

The flame lit by recitation
swallows all remembrance and devotion.
Truth hovers on the Master’s lip
Because – as he says – “I am always on its side.”

The world is dazed by brightness
and turns away from the blazing glare.
If you were to reveal the mystery of this radiance
the world would brand you a fool.

“In the heart, I make my seat,” says the Master
“all seventy-two chambers ring with music,
the dark of night is dispelled
and the concert of ginans begins.”

The unrecited name plays on and on:
a symphony is heard within.
The seventy-two chambers fill with music, though
its essence is perceived by only a few.²¹

From the Institute of Ismaili Studies