ʿAyn al-Quḍāt was a first-rate philosopher, Sufimaster, theologian, legal judge, poet, and scriptural exegete. He wasa highly innovative author who wrote in both Arabic and Persian, andwhose ideas in so many domains, from cosmology and metaphysics toepistemology and love theory, left an indelible mark upon laterIslamic thought. His writings in Persian had a lasting influence uponvarious Sufi figures and orders in Persia, the Ottoman Empire, andparticularly India, while his Arabic writings were studied inintellectual circles throughout the Muslim east into the early modernperiod, and were even influential during the time of the BritishRaj.
Abū’l-Maʿālī Muḥammad b. Abī Bakral-Hamadānī was born in the Iranian city of Hamadan in 1097.He received his early legal and theological training in theShāfiʿī and Ashʿarī traditions respectivelyand excelled in a variety of other subjects, including philosophy,logic, Arabic and Persian poetry, Sufism, and mathematics, studyingthe latter with the famous poet, mathematician, and philosopherʿUmar Khayyām (d. ca. 1124). He became a legal judge likelybefore the age of twenty, earning the title “ʿAynal-Quḍāt” or “the most eminent judge”.ʿAyn al-Quḍāt was already a well-known author by thispoint, having written several no longer extant treatises in rationaltheology and mathematics, and a still extant one-thousand-line Arabiclove poem (Rustom 2023a: 1–4).
By his own recounting, in 1112 ʿAyn al-Quḍātexperienced a crisis of certainty not unsimilar to that of AbūḤāmid al-Ghazālī, who had died the year before.After immersion in Ghazālī’s writings for a period offour years, our philosopher regained his spiritual bearings anddedicated himself more entirely to the inner life. In 1119 he cameinto contact with Ghazālī’s younger brother,Aḥmad Ghazālī (d. 1126), who was one of the mostprominent Sufi teachers in Persia at that time (for whom, see Lumbard2016). ʿAyn al-Quḍāt excelled on the Sufi path (seeentry onmysticism in Arabic and Islamic philosophy) and was appointed by his own master as a spiritual guide(murshid; Persian,pīr) at the time of hisdeath.
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt authored about sixteen works in Arabicand Persian, seven of which have survived. One of his Arabic books isShakwā’l-gharīb (The Exile’sComplaint), a short apology written in 1129 (in prison) againstthe charges of heresy leveled against him (see below). His other bookin Arabic, which was extremely influential upon the later Islamicintellectual tradition, is entitledZubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq (The Essence of Reality). Heremarkably wrote this dense 100-page work of philosophical Sufism in amatter of three days at the age of twenty-four. Among other things,Essence of Reality represents the first full-outphilosophical defense of mysticism in the Islamic intellectualtradition, developing the work of Avicenna (d. 1037) andGhazālī and in many ways anticipating the perspective oflater philosophical Sufism associated with the name of IbnʿArabī (d. 1240) and his school (for which, see Ali2022).
Thankfully, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s two most importantPersian works are in our possession. By far the most famous of theseis his masterpiece completed in 1127, theTamhīdāt(Paving the Path) (substantial selected translations inRustom 2023a). Written in a highly poetic and stylized form of Persianthat is at once mesmerizing and mysterious, the book contains most ofʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s mature philosophical,theological, legal, and mystical positions, and is fundamentallyconcerned with the themes of non-duality and self-knowledge (Ariankhoo& Rustom 2023).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s other book in Persian, completedjust before his death, is generically known asNāma-hā (The Letters) (substantialselected translations in Rustom 2023a). The work amounts to acollection in three volumes of letters he wrote to his students,disciples, and various friends who worked for the Seljuq government.The letters contain a wealth of information regarding not onlyʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s main ideas, but also revealtheir author to have been a caring spiritual guide and teacher tovarious kinds of individuals, from advanced Sufis to novices stilllearning the basics of Islamic law and theology.The Lettersalso demonstrate the degree to which ʿAyn al-Quḍāt wasan acute critic of the Seljuq government’s corrupt financial andsocial practices, which were the key factors that led to hisstate-sponsored execution.
In 1128, a legal edict orfatwa was issued by state-fundedreligious officials, recommending ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s execution on account of his“heretical” theological views and alleged claims todivinity. The only contemporaneous record we have of the details ofthis accusation comes from ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s ownwritings, particularly hisExile’s Complaint. He showsin this work how the charges brought against him were completelysloppy and untenable, taking as they did ʿAyn al-Quḍātto task for some of his theological and philosophical positionsdefended inEssence of Reality that were deeply indebted toGhazālī’s rational theology—an irony, ʿAynal-Quḍāt notes, because Ghazālī was sponsored andchampioned by the same Seljuq state(Shakwā’l-gharīb: 9–10). Incidentally,the Seljuqs seem to not have cared about/been aware of ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s Persian writings, particularlyPavingthe Path, which defends positions that could much more easilyhave been deemed as “heretical” by those seeking todiscredit his orthodoxy.
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt explains that the Seljuqs were not atall concerned with his beliefs and religious teachings. The real causefor his imprisonment was the Seljuq’s frantic need to silencehim on account of his vociferous and very public castigations of theSeljuq state’s corrupt financial practices and various otherforms of social injustice, including their abysmal lack of care forthe poor. As ʿAyn al-Quḍāt notes, his case was notlooked upon sympathetically by the many religious scholars whosupported thefatwa against him because they were jealous ofhim on account of his having completely outshined them in popularityand in scholarship (Rustom 2023a: 4–7).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s death was personally overseen bythe Seljuq Vizier Qawwām al-Dīn Abū’l-QāsimDargazīnī (d. 1133), who viewed the execution as anopportunity for his own professional advancement. At the same time, heknew that ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s death would leave hismain enemy vulnerable—a Seljuq finance officer namedʿAzīz al-Dīn (d. 1133), who was a disciple of ʿAynal-Quḍāt (see Safi 2006: chapter 6).
Having spent a part of 1129 in a prison in Baghdad, ʿAynal-Quḍāt was moved to another cell in his native Hamadan,where he was publicly executed on the order of SultanMaḥmūd b. Malikshāh (d. 1131) on May 6/7, 1131. Atsome point in the twelfth/thirteenth century, a tomb was constructedfor ʿAyn al-Quḍāt. The site was regularly visited bySufi pilgrims until its destruction during the reign of the Safaviddynasty (1501–1736).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s epistemology and psychology areintimately connected, revolving around the concepts ofself-recognition, the inner self, the heart, and the limits of reason.He begins by making a distinction between knowledge(ʿilm) and recognition (maʿrifa; Persian,maʿrifat) (for the latter, see Chittick & Rustomforthcoming). Whereas conventional knowledge pertains to discursiveduality and separates the knower from the objects of their knowledge,recognition pertains to non-discursive unity, bridging the gap betweenthe knower and the objects of their knowledge.
To understand the distinction between discursive duality andnon-discursive unity, consider Avicenna’s discursive theory ofknowledge. It begins with the premise that all knowledge involveseither forming concepts (taṣawwur) through definitions,following the Aristotelian method of identifying the genus(jins) and specific difference (faṣl) of anobject, or affirming the truth (taṣdīq) of astatement through syllogisms. At a basic level, there is discursivethinking (i.e., thinking that involves subjects and predicates), wherethe intellect systematically builds syllogisms using both internal andexternal senses such as sight, memory, and imagination, and graspsintelligible concepts by identifying the middle terms. According toAvicenna, the self, understood as the theoretical intellect, containsseveral degrees, each of which represents a higher level in theprocess of intellection that reaches its perfection in the acquiredintellect (al-ʿaql al-mustafād). The theoreticalintellect requires an external agency (i.e., the Active Intellect) toactualize its ability to grasp universals. The Active Intellect actslike the Sun that illuminates human intellectual faculties and makesit possible for them to move from potentiality to actuality. (A greatdeal of contention exists among Avicenna scholars regarding theprocess of acquiring intelligible forms, with some strongly supporting“abstraction” and others opting for“emanation” (see Hasse 2014 and Black 2014). In contrastto the abovementioned emanationist account, abstractionists argue thatmeanings are abstracted from a non-conceptual transaction between oursenses and the world, leading to a version of the “myth of thegiven”, i.e., empirical knowledge resulting from themind’s innate ability (Azadpur 2020)).
For all its merits, the Avicennan theory of knowledge and knowledgeacquisition would still be confined toʿilm rather thanmaʿrifa from ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’svantage point. As will be seen, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt does notdeny the validity of conceptual knowledge, but“recognition” for him implies a higher mode of cognitionthat one has to acquire through the “eye of the heart”(Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq: §125). What is“recognized” are the truths and realities of things asburied deep down in one’s own soul, and from this angle ofvision “recognition” (maʿrifa) comes closein meaning to Platonic recollection (anamnesis) (for which,see Silverman 2003 [2022]).
This closeness in meaning between recognition and recollection isevidenced by the fact that ʿAyn al-Quḍāṭ agreeswith Plato insofar as the soul (i.e., the deepest and uncreated layerof the soul) is the locus of previous acquaintance with the realitiesof things (ḥaqāʾiq). The soul possessesknowledge of the realities of things before the state of itsembodiment, and hence “recognition” involves the act ofrediscovering this forgotten knowledge. However, the precise nature ofthis knowledge is left unexplained, apart from the fact that itinvolves some sort of deep intuition about the self. This would be atask left to the likes of Shihāb al-Dīn al-Suhrawardī(d. 1191) and the followers of Ibn ‘Arabī, such asṢadr al-Dīn al-Qūnawī (d. 1274), Dāwūdal-Qayṣarī (d. 1350), and Shams al-DīnFanārī (d. 1430).
The view of these successors of ʿAyn al-Quḍāt becomesclear when contrasted with Avicenna’s rejection of Platonism andhis own theory of knowledge. For Plato, Forms are independent,self-subsisting realities, which are the basis for his theory ofrecollection. Avicenna rejects universals understood as Platonic Formsfor a number of reasons, not the least of which is that they arevulnerable to the third man argument (see the discussion in the entryonPlato’sParmenides, §4.3)). In place of Platonic Forms, he countenances the existence ofanterem universals within the celestial Intellects, which areinstrumental for Avicenna in the reception of universals and, hence,knowledge. However, he remains silent on a crucial point made by theSufi metaphysicians following in the wake of ʿAynal-Quḍāt. According to them, all genuine knowledge ofuniversal realities necessitates the universalization of the would-beknower’s mode of existence. That is, knowledge, ultimately, is amode of being (Cancelliere 2019: 125).
While certainly not Plato’s theory of the Forms and knowledge,this account of knowledge does have its affinities. Knowledge forthose in the tradition of ʿAyn al-Quḍāt is not thereception of something distinct from the self as Avicenna would haveit—a mode of knowledge that is essentially dualistic in that thereceiver and what is received, namely, universal objects of knowledgein the celestial intellect, are distinct; rather, in Platonic fashion,the knower comes to recognize the objects of knowledge that have beeninherent and essentially are the very self of the knower, which hadhitherto been unrecognized.
This brings us back to ʿAyn al-Quḍāt for whomrecognition is a higher mode of knowing that fundamentally can only beacquired through spiritual practice, thereby leading to the opening ofthe eye of inner vision which transcends the limits of conventionalways of knowing and leads to true self-knowledge (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §125). ʿAynal-Quḍāt cites the famous story of Moses and Khidr from theQur’an (a staple theme in Sufi literature) to flesh out thedifference between knowledge and recognition. For instance, the Quran(18:65–82) mentions the story of Moses meeting a stranger (oftenidentified as Khiḍr, a possessor of special knowledge), whobaffles him by performing such actions as killing a boy and sinking aboat. The Quran graphically describes Moses’ disgust at suchacts: “You have certainly done a horrible thing!” (Quran18:74). Khiḍr later reveals that he killed the boy because hewould grow up to be a disbeliever and would bring much hardship to hisparents, who were true believers. Moreover, he knew that God wouldfavor the parents with a more virtuous and caring child. As for theboat, Khiḍr informs Moses that there was a tyrant ahead of theboat’s owners, and that this tyrant was known to forcefullyseize undamaged boats. From this story, Sufis often deduce intuitiveknowledge that apparently contradicts our discursive thinkinginvolving common sense notions of morality and knowledge.
While discussing the complexities of self-recognition, ʿAynal-Quḍāt presents an intriguing view regarding thebody-soul relationship. On the one hand, he disagrees with Avicennaand his followers who deny the soul’s preexisting the body; onthe other hand, he maintains that no good argument has been offered tosupport this position, noting that his certainty on the issue is basedonmaʿrifa. The human intellect can only understand theexistence of the soul by examining the body and its attributes, suchas the soul’s ability to cause perception and movement, whichare common traits among all living beings. Our perception of thesoul’s continued existence after its separation from the body isbased on analyzing intellectual perception, considering the soul asthe locus of knowledge. Since knowledge is indivisible, says ʿAynal-Quḍāt, “the division of its locus isinconceivable”, leading to the conclusion that the soul cannotbe destroyed (Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq: §150).Here again, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s affinity withPlatonism becomes apparent. Based on the concept ofanamnesis, Plato too has Socrates conclude that there existsa doctrine of pre-existence. Like ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, heutilizes the idea of pre-existence to support arguments for thesoul’s indestructability and immortality (particularly inPhaedo 69e–84b).
Moreover, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt argues againstAvicenna’s position concerning the manner in which abody’s specific constitution acts as an accidental cause for aparticular soul’s emergence into the sublunary realm. He arguesthat the soul precedes the body, and that the states of a soul changewhen it inhabits a body (Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq:§149–150). At a more subtle level, souls are characterizedby their limitless degrees of diversity (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §153). For some souls, there isno intermediary between them and God (e.g., the souls of prophets). Itcan be argued, for example, that the state of the soul changesaccording to a host of various environmental factors; God, bycontrast, is above any kind of temporal change. ʿAynal-Quḍāt acknowledges such objections, but argues thatsince God created people in His own image, it is possible for at leastsome souls to reflect God’s all-encompassing perfection or, toput it another way, to reflect His image more directly. At the sametime, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt is quick to note that “withthe exception of a few souls, there are many intermediaries betweentheir existence and the existence of the First” (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §155). Regardless of therelationship of the soul to God, every soul is implicated in a causalchain that proceeds from the spiritual to the sensible realms.
Being trained in the rational sciences, ʿAyn al-Quḍātis aware that at its highest level, his treatment of the nature of theheart and divine consciousness transcends the limits of discursivethinking. From one perspective, the intellect or human reason(ʿaql) is an essential instrument by which truth can bemeasured against falsehood and right can be discerned from wrong. Fromanother perspective, when an intelligent person embraces a purelyempirical attitude concerning immaterial entities, eschatologicalmatters, and the nature of God’s radiating self-awareness, hegropes at the impossible:
Reason is a valid scale, and its measurements are certain and realwith no unreality in it; and it is a just scale: it is inconceivablethat it can ever be unjust. Having said that, when an intelligentperson desires to weigh everything against reason, even the matters ofthe next world, the reality of prophecy, and the realities of theBeginningless divine attributes, that is a desire for the impossible.(Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq: §187, with slightmodifications)
In making his case for the suprasensory nature of this higher mode ofknowing, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt borrows a phrase made popularby Ghazālī, namely “the stage beyond reason”(al-ṭawr warāʾ al-ʿaql). In relation tothe reasoning faculty, the stage beyond reason (or what he also calls“stages beyond reason”) is as the soul is to the body(Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq: §185). This specialvantage point is itself accessed through inner purity andexpansiveness of the heart:
When your heart has expanded for faith in the unseen, God will cause alight to pour into your inner self, the likes of which you have notwitnessed before. This is one of the traces of that stage that appearsafter the stage of reason. So intensify your search, for that alone iswhat you need in order to find! (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §176, with slightmodifications)
The stage beyond reason presents many difficulties to our ordinary,discursive intelligence, much like the way primary concepts areutterly unknowable to the bodily senses (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §178). Indeed, it is the sensesthemselves that stand in the way of accessing this stage of knowing,which can only be obtained by those who have arrived at truerecognition. To highlight the directness of the kind of knowingconferred by the stage beyond reason, ʿAyn al-Quḍātemploys a common Sufi sensory image, again bequeathed byGhazālī, namely that of “tasting”(dhawq). Tasting can convey to embodied people theaffect-like nature of recognition, but it too falls short, trapped asit is in language (Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq:§122). In the final analysis, recognition for ʿAynal-Quḍāt leads to a state of perception(idrāk) in which the subject/object dichotomy dissolvesand the perceiver themselves “become” the objects ofperception and in fact the Perceived Itself(Nāma-hā: 1:213–214; 3:397). Moreover, inthis world, the stage beyond reason can only be accessed by those whohave attained true self-recognition (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §§184–185). ʿAynal-Quḍāt writes:
O chevalier! So long as a person is in sense perception, hisperception can only be a finite attribute. When he reachesintellectual perception, the individual parts of his objects ofperception will become infinite. But when he reaches recognition, hewill be the objects of perception: the individual parts will beboundless, and in his perception the infinity of the intellectualworld will become finite. (Nāma-hā:1:213–214; translations from this work are adapted from Rustom2023a: passim)
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s metaphysics begins with UltimateReality, commonly referred to as the Self/Essence(al-dhāt) in Islamic thought. In line with hisepistemology as articulated in the previous section, he notes thedifficulty in saying anything about the Self, since It is the absoluteand infinite reality transcending all thought and description(Tamhīdāt: 269). The Absolute is the “Realityof reality” in which there is no trace of multiplicity,potentiality, or actuality. It is more like a geometrical point thatcannot be divided into anything, even though “existence”emerges from It in the most perfect of ways(Tamhīdāt: 337;Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §33). The supra-sensory realitycalled the Self or the Eternal (al-qadīm) is beyondhuman perception, but Its existence can nevertheless be logicallydemonstrated:
“Certain truth” [cf. Quran 69:51] in proving the Eternallies in demonstrating It by way of that existence which is the mostgeneral of things, for if there were not an Eternal in existence,there would, fundamentally, not be an existent in existencewhatsoever. This is because existence divides into that whichencompasses the originated and the Eternal, that is, into that whoseexistence has a beginning and that whose existence does not have abeginning. If there were no Eternal in existence, there would,fundamentally, not be that which is originated, since it is not in thenature of that which is originated for it to exist by virtue ofitself. Indeed, that which is existent by virtue of itself is theNecessary Existent. And that which is necessary in itself cannot beconceived as having a beginning. (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §31)
As has already been demonstrated (Maghsoudlou 2016), ʿAynQuḍāt often draws from Avicenna when incorporating rationalarguments into his philosophical Sufi worldview. The text just citedis a fine example of how the Avicennan division of existence(wujūd) into the necessary and the contingent getsreinterpreted in philosophical Sufism viakalām orIslamic rational theology (for more on this, see McGinnis & Acar2023). Existence is divided into that which is eternal and without abeginning and that which originates in time. If we consider anyexistent entity or process in the universe, we find that it is bothchanging or temporal. However, something which originated in time mustneed an external cause to initiate its existence since it cannot existby virtue of itself. Hence, we must assume an entity that is eternaland exists by virtue of Itself, namely an entity that is self-caused.Moreover, since this entity is necessary in Itself, It isself-sufficient and does not depend on another cause for Itsexistence. It also transcends temporal boundaries since time involveschange, and change is bound up in contingency. ʿAynal-Quḍāt further says:
Thus, it can be said: [1] “if there were an existent inexistence, it would necessarily entail that there be an Eternal inexistence”. This is a certain premise: it is inconceivable foranyone to doubt it. Then it can be said, [2] “existence isclearly known”. This is the second premise, which, like thefirst premise, is certain. Thereafter, [3] the existence of an Eternalexistent necessarily follows from these two firm premises. Such is thedemonstrative proof of the Eternal by way of existence. Be it succinctor extended, a further exposition is inconceivable. (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §31)
This is a version of Avicenna’s famousburhānal-ṣiddiqīn (“the demonstration of theever-truthful”) proof for the existence of God, except thatʿAyn al-Quḍāt uses the termsḥudūth (temporal origination) andqidam(eternity) instead of the modal termswujūb (necessity),imkān (possibility), andimtināʿ(impossibility). The premises that ʿAyn al-Quḍātinvokes are uncontroversial, since even the radical skeptic has toadmit that there is existence even if he were to posit that reality issome kind of simulation and not “real” as such. Similarly,we may disagree about the nature of existence, but it would be hard toargue that existence itself came out of pure nothingness (not relativenothingness). This is true even when we are trying to explaincosmogenesis through quantum gravity or, at bare minimum, certain lawsof physics. That is, those laws and initial conditions cannot benothing (it is apt to note here that some contemporary physicistsbelieve in the eternal or cyclical nature of the universe).
However, one might argue that there is nothing wrong in imaging acontingent initial natural causal state—contingent eitherbecause the existence of the entities involved in that initial stateis contingent, or because at least some of the properties of theentities involved in that initial state are contingent (Oppy 2013).But for ʿAyn al-Quḍāt and many others in the Islamicintellectual tradition, contingent beings, by definition, lack“eternal necessity”, which necessitates theirexistentiation (ījād) through something that musthave eternal necessity in itself. And only being or existence(wujūd) fits the bill. Take any entity, such as atriangle: it possesses an “essential” but not“eternal” necessity. That is, in every possible world, thedefinition of a triangle will hold, but that does not necessitate its“eternal” existence. Even if we grant an infinite chain ofcontingent beings, the series cannot become necessary except throughanother cause, which ultimately proves that the series of a chain ofcontingent beings necessarily terminates in that whose existence isnecessary in Itself.
Although from one point of view, the Divine Self is beyond names anddescriptions, from another point of view, It manifests Itself andhence enters into a relationship with the cosmos. These relationshipsare indefinite, and each one of them can be described through a givendivine name or attribute. Moreover, ʿAyn al-Quḍātavers, the divine names have a specific spiritual significance for thetraveler or wayfarer on the Sufi path (sālik), sincethey are associated with subtle states that are closely linked to hisaction in the world:
God has a thousand and one names, and in every name He disclosesHimself in a thousand ways. Every kind of self-disclosure gives riseto a state in the wayfarer, and every state brings forth a subtletyand a different action in him. (Nāma-hā: 1:74)
A perennial theological problem that arises here is the question ofhow God’s oneness can remain uncompromised in the face ofmultiple divine names. That is, if God is one, how does His havingmultiple attributes and names not introduce multiplicity in Him?ʿAyn al-Quḍāt seems to follow the standardAshʿarī position regarding the relationship between theEssence and Its attributes. He acknowledges the difficulty in holdingthe position that seeks to affirm the divine attributes while alsoasserting that they do not negate the Essence’s unity andsimplicity. He thus prefers to think of the divine attributes assubsisting in the Divine Essence (Tamhīdāt: 304),giving the analogy of the sea and its drops by suggesting that thestatements, “A drop is other than the sea” and “Adrop is from the sea”, are both correct(Tamhīdāt: 336). Similarly, water is called bydifferent names in different languages, but they all refer to the sameobject, which is to say that the Essence is called by many names thatall refer to the same reality (Tamhīdāt: 263).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt has more to say about the relationshipbetween God’s Essence and Its attributes by positing that eachattribute is a perfection of the Essence that pertains to a specificmanifestation of the Essence in a perspectival(iʿtibārī) way. The Essence can hence bedescribed by “power” if we consider the existents asobjects of power, “desire” if we consider the existents asthe objects of desire, and “knowledge” if we consider theexistents as objects of knowledge (Nāma-hā: 1:144).In other words, the entire universe can be described as aself-objectivation of the Essence, which encompasses everything:
Thus, since this Essence is related to the effusion of the existentsthat emerge from It, and it is known that they are contingents andthat it is undoubtedly the Necessary who brings the contingent intoexistence, it is called “power” from the standpoint ofthis relation between It and the existents, and sometimes it is called“desire” from the standpoint of another relation. But theweak-minded think that there is a difference between power and thePowerful, and desire and the Desiring! This is the very limit ofrational reflection. (Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq:§81, with a slight modification)
Another way to explain the divine attributes would be to say thatdivine attributes such as knowledge imply that everything comes intoexistence through God’s knowledge. Similarly, divine power meansthat something comes into existence from Him. According to ʿAynal-Quḍāt, there is no conflict between these twoattributes, even though people understand them to be distinct by wayof habit (Nāma-hā: 1:178).
Although ʿAyn al-Quḍāt talks of different categoriesof being, namely the necessary and the contingent, being or existenceultimately is one. More importantly, being or existence is identifiedwith the very reality of the Essence. And since contingent beingscannot have being through themselves, they must have their beingthrough another, namely the Necessary. This means being is one,despite the existence of multiplicity. Like Ghazālī beforehim (see Chittick 2012: 72), this insight leads ʿAynal-Quḍāt to conclude that “there is no self inexistence other than He” (Nāma-hā:1:232–233), a point for which he argues as follows:
Your existence is not outside of two possibilities: either it subsistson its own or through the existence of something other than itself. Ifit subsists on its own, then there is no distinction between yourexistence and God’s existence because there is not more than onebeing in existence that subsists on its own…. And whatever doesnot subsist on its own but subsists through something else does nothave [real] existence. Thus it necessarily follows that there is notmore than one being in existence, and that one existence is God.(Nāma-hā: 3:398)
According to ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, nothing exists independentof God since an independent order of existence alongside God’swould introduce two different orders of reality, each with its ownrules of existence. But since the multiplicity of entities that weencounter do not display absolute unity, the implication is thatexistence belongs only to God (Nāma-hā: 3:397).ʿAyn al-Quḍāt explains this further by drawingattention to the Quran, which states that all things other than Godare perpetually evanescent. He gives the analogy of a form in a mirrorwhich is observation-dependent, perishing as soon as the observerturns his gaze away from the mirror (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §95; see also section 6). Theoneness of being as conceived by ʿAyn al-Quḍāt meansthat all existent things are mysteriously plunged in God’sall-encompassing existence and that they derive their ontologicalsustenance from God, who is none other than being itself.
A corollary to this position is that nothingcan be thereaside from being/existence. But this does not spell a form ofpantheism, since ʿAyn al-Quḍāt is careful to note thatalthough God shares “withness” or coextensivity(maʿiyya) with things, nothing shares the rank ofwithness with God’s existence (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §116). This argument leads himto commit to the position that God is ontologically and logicallyprior to everything. Ultimately, for ʿAyn al-Quḍāt,being’s necessity, uniqueness, and oneness means that only Godtruly exists, while all other things onlyappear toexist—existing relationally at best—as they derive theirexistence from God. For ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, this truthrequires spiritual insight to fathom, since conventional ways ofknowing are incapable of demonstrating it. But for the person ofrealized inner vision, he sees God as being with all things, while atthe same time being both logically and ontologically prior to them(Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq: §141).
The Sufi idea ofmaʿrifa or recognition is often relatedto a well-known Arabic maxim, “He who recognizes himself, willrecognize his Lord”. With this saying in mind, our philosopherdrives home the fact that those who do not have self-recognition(attained through self-cultivation) can never recognize God, thusremaining strangers to their true selves:
One must recognize himself so that he may recognize his Lord. They donot have self-recognition, so how can they have recognition of God?!They are estranged. (Tamhīdāt: 178; translationsfrom this work adapted from Rustom 2023a: passim)
But self-recognition that leads to a knowledge of God cannot be hadthrough the self qua self. Rather, one should strive to know Godthrough God. This is because the self, i.e., the lower self, stands inthe way of true knowledge of God. The seeker must therefore seekself-recognition through God, who lies at the root of humanconsciousness:
But you are with yourself. When you find something, it is like findingyourself. The seekers and lovers of God seek Him through Him. So theyfind Him through Him. The veiled ones seek Him through themselves. Sothey see themselves, and have lost God. What do you hear? Do notconsider this a trifling statement! (Tamhīdāt:319)
For ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, “through Him”specifically means “through God’s light”. Sincelight is synonymous with existence, it is the source through which onecan come to know one’s own self. Such an insight between therelationship between light and existence anticipatesSuhrawardī’s well-known theory of light and itsmanifestation (ẓuhūr), which is used to explainconsciousness (see the entry onSuhrawardi). But for ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, since the universe manifestsGod’s names and attributes, by directing one’s gaze to it,the seeker can come to a knowledge of the divine. But God’slight is equally displayed in the heart of the seeker, and hence bydelving into one’s inner being, which in turn reflects theuniverse, one may attain true self-recognition(Tamhīdāt: 273). Moreover, in self-recognition, theknowing subject no longer posits an “other” or“object” outside of themselves to be known. The more theyrecognize their true self, the more will they recognize its contents,which are God’s attributes buried deep within their soul (Rustom2023a: 153–158).
As alluded to already, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt places a premiumon a person’s finding and knowing God through their inner self.The way to God is always open to a real seeker (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §176), which itself impliessincerity in the act of seeking (ṭalab) anddiscipleship (Persian,irādat), namely the guidance of arealized spiritual master. It is important to note here that forʿAyn al-Quḍāt, the spiritual path is not simply“out there”, awaiting discovery. Rather, the path toUltimate Reality is inside the self, moving from guidance that is“outside” the self (i.e., the help of a spiritual master)to the more inward cultivation of self-recognition, namelyinwardness.
It comes as no surprise to learn that ʿAyn al-Quḍātunderscores the need to look within to find the true self, which issynonymous with the immanent divine presence. He makes it clear thatthe path to God is neither on earth nor in the heavens, nor in anyposthumous states. Rather, the path to God is to be found in the innerrecesses of one’s selfhood (Tamhīdāt: 24).The more one journeys the spiritual path, the more one comes torealize that one is not the seeker but the one who is sought. That is,it is not a person’s desire that takes them to God sinceGod’s desire is prior to their desire(Tamhīdāt: 19). Such a call for an inward turn doesnot mean one should neglect the legal and outward aspects of religionidentified with the Sharia (i.e., the Divine Law). Rather, the Shariaitself is now redefined in terms of inwardness because for ʿAynal-Quḍāt, the Sharia is “the straight path ofreality, and anyone who missteps on the path loses his own reality andthrows himself into error”. And this because “the path isthe inner reality of the human being”(Tamhīdāt: 289–290).
Closely related to inwardness is the notion of the “heart”(qalb; Persian,dil), which is a standard term inSufi psychology (see Nasr & Ogunnaike 2024). Sufis such asGhazālī distinguish between the physical heart, which pumpsblood, and the subtle, spiritual heart, which is the locus ofperception (see Faruque 2023). Others describe it as the center ofhuman emotions by placing it in the middle of the Platonic tripartitesoul, with reason on top and appetite at the bottom. At the deepestlevel, the heart is identified with the consciousness of the divine atthe center of one’s being, and it is this dimension of the heartthat occupies ʿAyn al-Quḍāt attention:
The seekers of God search for Him inside their selves because He is inthe heart, and the heart is in their inner reality. This is strange toyou, but whatever is in the heavens and on the earth, God has createdall of it in you. (Tamhīdāt: 287)
Anyone who circumambulates the heart will find the goal, and anyonewho errs and loses his way on the path of the heart will become sodistant that he will never find himself. (Tamhīdāt:24)
Search for the heart and grab hold of it!(Tamhīdāt: 146)
Alongside being the locus of the divine presence, the heart has aself-reflexive ability to know itself and to come to see itself asbeing uniquely suited to being the object of the divine gaze (Persian,naẓargāh-i khudā)(Tamhīdāt: 146). However, not every heart or theinmost center of the self can radiate the divine presence. Only aheart that is free of such dispersive characteristics and tendenciesas negative thoughts and emotions can act as a locus for God’sself-contemplation. Or, as ʿAyn al-Quḍāt simply putsit, “God does not have any condition for you but that you emptyyour heart” (Nāma-hā: 2:92). With God’seyes fixed upon a person’s pure heart, the heart can act as asource of moral conscience. ʿAyn al-Quḍāt thus asks usto consult the “mufti of our heart” when facing moraldilemmas, provided we have overcome the vagaries and impulses of ourlower selves (Tamhīdāt: 197–198).
Following a long-standing tradition in Islamic thought, ʿAynal-Quḍāt identifies existence with light(nūr). God as the Necessary Existent is consequently theNecessary Light, or what our philosopher calls “the Illuminatorof all other lights” (Tamhīdāt: 255). Onemajor implication of this position is that, just as all other existentthings are unreal (i.e., they exist through God’s being) inrelation to the Necessary Being, when we speak of them as lights, theyare likewise unreal or metaphorical in relation to the Illuminator oflights (Tamhīdāt: 256). At the top of the cosmichierarchy, God’s light emanates in descending degrees ofintensity. The further away a thing is from the Source of cosmicluminosity, the more darkness it exhibits, ontologically speaking.Since for ʿAyn al-Quḍāt God is pure goodness, it is tothe degree that things participate in God’s light that theyexhibit this goodness. Thus, the further a thing is away from God andthe darker it is, the less goodness will it display. Yet since allthings participate in the order of existence/light, there cannot benon-existence/darkness per se. This is why ʿAynal-Quḍāt, who inveighs against the Zoroastrian view insupport of the ontological reality of evil (see Rustom 2020:74–75), argues for the ultimate unreality of evil. He states hisposition by arguing for the relational (nisbatī) natureof evil:
In general, one must say that, in itself, evil is nonexistent. That isthe truth, however far-fetched it is for human understanding. TheMessenger’s statement and the scholarly consensus must beinterpreted—namely why they affirmed the existence of evil. Thisis just like when the father and mother of a child call cupping“evil” with reference to what is apparent and in relationto the child’s perception, since he can only perceive pain. Butthe parents know the reality: cupping is not evil; rather, it isgood!
Likewise, it is certainly known to the Prophets and Friends of Godthat nothing but the good comes into existence from God and that allof His actions are good. However, it might be that not everyone willknow that whatever exists is good and is not evil. The bad isrelational, but in itself it is nonexistent. Thus, the name“evil” exists and is affirmed. Although from theperspective of reality evil is nonexistent, it is merely affirmed assuch in accordance with the understanding of people. Yet the existenceof the reality of evil, in relation to God’s mercy, generosity,and bounty is known to be impossible. (Nāma-hā:2:294)
If, as ʿAyn al-Quḍāt maintains, evil is ultimately notreal, then there is nothing in the cosmos but goodness in varied modesof perfection and presence. At the same time, evil does have some kindof “reality” in our world, and this by virtue of itsrelational nature. Relations, after all, are both real andunreal—for example, the relationship between father and sonbespeaks a real fact that obtains between them on account of theiressential definitions; but, at the same time, this relationship has noactual ontological status (i.e., it has no existence apart from thoseexistents that make up the relata of the said relationship).
Like so many other post-classical Islamic philosophers, theologians,and mystics, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s theodicy is clearlyinfluenced by Avicenna (see Shihadeh 2019), particularly themetaphysics (ilāhiyyāt) section of his famousBook of Healing (Kitāb al-Shifāʾ)(Kitāb al-Shifāʾ: IX.6), which itself wasinformed by the substantial discussion in Plotinus’ (d. 270)Enneads I.8. While Avicenna speaks of “accidentalevils” (al-sharr al-ʿaraḍī), ʿAynal-Quḍāt refers to relational evils. As for“essential evil” (al-sharr al-dhātī),namely a thing’s non-realization in a substrate for which it wasintended (such as blindnessvis-à-vis the ocularfaculty), ʿAyn al-Quḍāt in all but name acknowledgesits presence since evil/darkness in his worldview is tantamount to thenon-realization of existence/light; this is to say that the privationof existence/light results in the emergence of evil/darkness in thecosmos (Rustom 2020: 76–77).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt also confronts the objective nature ofevil as a necessary and real feature of the sublunar realm, despitethe fact that, as Avicenna did before him (Avicenna,Kitābal-Shifāʾ: IX.6), he argues that all things inexistence display complete perfection and beauty. Beyond oursubjective likes and dislikes, accidental evils are a result of theexistence of this perfection itself, which is inscribed upon thenature of things. Thus, water nourishes a fish but can drown a person,rain is beneficial for someone but can destroy a home, and fire is asource of warmth but can also burn somebody(Tamhīdāt: 186;Nāma-hā: 1:401).As for absolute evil, it cannot be present in the world as that wouldentail fissures and imperfection in the cosmic order(Nāma-hā: 1:343). But the presence of relationalevils in the world does not for ʿAyn al-Quḍātcompromise God’s goodness, nor does it point to any kind ofimperfection in the world (Tamhīdāt: 122).
If relational evils are a part of the order of nature, so too is thepresence of secondary causes. ʿAyn al-Quḍāt ultimatelyrelates them back to God’s agency or habit (sunna),which itself is identified with the very workings of the nature andstructure of the world. As such, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’stheory of causation is firmly rooted in a worldview that sees it asresultant from a form of divine compulsion (Maghsoudlou 2016: 277;Rustom 2020: 79–84). As for human beings, they aresimultaneously implicated into this grand scheme of causal constraint,but also have restricted freedom of action—albeit not alibertarian form of freedom (Rustom 2020: 80).
As with his treatment of the relational nature of evil, ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s theory of human action is formed in partas a response to another group of “dualists”, that is, theMuʿtazila. Apart from being moral dualists (see Rustom 2023a:81), he sees them as adhering to a position to the effect that thereis no type of compulsion that informs human choice(ikhtiyār). Rather, people can and do always act freely.ʿAyn al-Quḍāt maintains that human beings have freechoice in their actions, but the freedom in question is a kind ofcompelled (muḍṭarr) constrained freedom:“Through his choice, man is compelled, overpowered, andsubjugated” (Nāma-hā: 3:338). What this meansis that human beings are compelled to act by virtue of the quality ofchoice that is a part of their nature (Nāma-hā:3:338). Although the idea that human beings are compelled to actfreely goes back to Avicenna (Avicenna,al-Taʿlīqāt: 124–125), one of ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s main aims in drawing on this idea is todemonstrate a perfect parallel between his cosmology of secondarycausal constraint and his theory of human constrained action(Maghsoudlou 2016: 276–277). When it comes to constrainedaction, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt approaches this problem frommany angles, the most concrete example of which is inextricably tiedto his treatment of love.
Many thinkers in post-Avicennan Islamic thought attempted to translatetheir abstract philosophical ideas into concrete forms through aprocess called “imaginalization” (tamaththul),which derives from Quran 19:17 (Rustom 2023a: 102–104). They didso largely through storytelling, poetry, music, and other artisticforms, thereby highlighting a unique dimension of later Islamicthought in which arcane and theoretical ideas accessible to a smallgroup of highly trained philosophers were now graspable by a muchlarger group of intellectuals, artists, and laypeople (forstorytelling in Islamic thought, see Zargar 2017; see also Harb 2020for the wider and related usage oftamthīl in Arabicliterature). Imagination in general and the imaginal world(ʿālam al-khayāl) in particular were seen asunique spaces that allow for the coming together of the seeminglyopposed “worlds” of meaning (maʿnā) andform (ṣūra) (for different conceptions ofimagination, see Chittick 1989 and van Lit 2017). Imagination came torefer to a process whereby meaning, which comes from a realm that ischangeless, immaterial, and non-dual, interpenetrates form, which ischaracterized by change, corporeality, and duality. The function ofimagination is often likened to dreams and mirrors since they bothre-present to the observer images that are simultaneously there andnot there, thereby pointing up their in-between-ness or uniqueontological middle ground between existence and nonexistence.ʿAyn al-Quḍāt explains it in this way with respect tomirrors:
From the perspective of reality, everything in existence istransitory, and the only thing that remains is the face of the Living,the Self-Abiding. It is just like a transitory form in amirror—only the form outside the mirror remains insofar asgeneral observation is concerned, satisfied as it is with sensoryimagery. In the eyes of the recognizer, the form outside the mirror isalso transitory, just like the form inside the mirror, with nodistinction between them. (Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq:§95)
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt develops his theory of imaginalizationin a variety of ways, relating it to the various posthumous statesafter death, understanding of scripture, and experience of beauty(see, respectively, Rustom 2023a: 106–109, 173–185, and248–260). Imaginalization also comes part and parcel withʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s wide-ranging exposition of love(ʿishq,maḥabba; Persian,dūstī) in which he attempts to communicate throughvarious angles of vision the interplay between lover and Beloved andhow the lover can participate in the Beloved’s Self-love andSelf-revelation by beholding the Beloved in multiple forms, images,sounds, and modes of beauty:
If love did not have the ruse of imaginalization, all the travelers onthe path to God would become unbelievers because, in most moments,they would see everything in one form and in one state only. In seeingthe moment like that, it would be one of blame. But when one seesincrease in beauty and an added form at every instant or every day,love becomes greater and the desire to see the object of one’syearning greater. At every instant,He loves them [Quran5:54] is imaginalized forthey love Him, andthey loveHim is, likewise, imaginalized. Thus, in this station, the loversees the Beloved at every instant in another form of beauty, andherself in a more perfect and more complete form of love.(Tamhīdāt: 124–125)
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s doctrine of imaginalization isbest exemplified in his retelling of the story of Iblīs or Satan.He notes that careful attention to this tale will unlock many doorsfor its listeners: “If anyone in existence knew how to listen tothe tale of Iblīs, especially its mysteries, his tale wouldbecome extremely dear to him” (Nāma-hā:2:416). In discussing what in Islamic thought is known astawḥīd Iblīs or the devil’s monotheism(see Awn 1983), ʿAyn al-Quḍāt is following awell-trodden path first paved by the famous tenth century Sufi martyrḤallāj (d. 922), who was then proceeded by a number ofmajor figures such as Aḥmad Ghazālī,Sanāʾī (d. 1131), and ʿAṭṭār (d.1221). Thetawḥīd Iblīs doctrine derives fromthe Quran (particularly 7:11–25), where God asks Iblīs tobow down to His newest creation, Adam. But Iblīs refuses, citinghis superiority over Adam. God consequently expels Iblīs from Hispresence and Iblīs becomes the misguider of humanity (note thatin the Quran and the Islamic tradition, Iblīs is never identifiedwith evil per se). For the likes of Ḥallāj and AḥmadGhazālī, Iblīs’ refusal to bow to Adam was not onaccount of obstinacy but simply because he could only bow to hisSource and first love. Iblīs is thus at core a monotheist whowill always remain patient in the face of all forms of adversity, evenif it be “blame” from God Himself (see Rustom 2020).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s dramatized and imaginalizedpresentation of the story of Iblīs turns out to be a masterfulway of expounding his action theory in concrete form. It also tiesinto his understanding of love. Just like human beings, who are“compelled” into action, Iblīs is also compelled intoaction. The difference here is that human action is informed by theinherent quality of choice, whereas Iblīs’ actions areinformed by the inherent quality of love, which leaves himchoiceless:
The lover is choice-less. Whatever the lover does comes into existencewithout his desire, and issues forth without his choice.(Tamhīdāt: 238)
Alas! What can be said about love? What indication of it is worthy andwhat explanation can be given? When entering love, a person shouldsurrender and not be with himself. He should abandon himself andprefer love over himself. (Tamhīdāt:96–97)
Iblīs “chose” separation from the Beloved overprostration to someone else. How excellent was his perfection of love!The gaze swerved not, nor did it transgress [Quran 53:17].(Nāma-hā: 1:96)
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt insists that in his perfect, selflesslove, Iblīs has many things to teach human beings. One of theseis the cultivation of aspiration for divine proximity and the lack of“self” interest, regardless of what obstacles might standin the way:
One must be an aspirant of the quality of Iblīs so that somethingcomes from him. How fine was his aspiration! He said, “I amready for endless pain, so give me the eternal mercilessness that ismy due!” (Nāma-hā: 2:187)
The madness of love is of better worth than the cleverness of theentire world!… Whoever is not a lover is a self-seer. To be alover is to be selfless and pathless. (Tamhīdāt:98)
The imaginalized depiction of the story of Iblīs ultimatelyallows ʿAyn al-Quḍāt to turn to love itself asfundamentally grounded in the nature of things, which is where histheory of the “stage beyond reason” comes full circle.According to ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, divine love is one of thespecial attributes of the stage beyond reason (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §65); when a person experiencesit, speech reveals itself to be rather hopeless in articulating itsreality:
Love is one of the things specific to the stage beyond reason. Forthose who have witnessed the states of love, there is no doubt thatreason is far from perceiving these states. To the understanding ofthe person restricted by his reason and who has not had an intimatetaste of love, there is no way for the lover to convey the meaning ofthat love with which he is so intimate. That can only happen when sucha person stands in the same position as the lover who tastes love.(Zubdat al-ḥaqāʾiq: §71)
As ʿAyn al-Quḍāt sees it, love and God are one, andall human beings are objects of divine love. But he also maintainsthat human beings are likewise lovers of God. This leads him toexplain the subtle dynamics of what can be called the “circle oflove”, where the subject of love is simultaneously its object.To make sense of this all-encompassing vision of love, ʿAynal-Quḍāt urges us to enter the school of love as students:“Be a student! For love suffices as your teacher”(Nāma-hā: 2:128). When entering the school of love,the seeker should surrender and abandon himself, preferring love overeverything else (Tamhīdāt: 96–97). Time andagain, ʿAyn al-Quḍāt emphasizes how a person shouldhave sincerity and purity of intention when embarking on the path oflove, seeking the Beloved from the bottom of their heart. The realityof the search for the Beloved comes to fruition when the gaze of theseeker is entirely turned towards the Sought. ʿAynal-Quḍāt provides us with an analogy of iron’sattraction to a magnet to explain this state of sincere seeking:
The reality of seeking obtains when the gaze of the seeker is entirelyturned toward the sought. It is then that seeking and finding aretwins. The reality of this search can be expressed by the attractionof iron to a magnet: if the iron is unalloyed, the magnet will attractit, with nothing to impede the iron’s attraction to the magnet.But if the iron is mixed with some gold, silver, or the like, thiswill compromise its attraction. Likewise, when the iron isuncontaminated, its fully actualized attraction to the magnet willensue. It is then that finding—namely the iron reaching themagnet—will necessarily occur. (Zubdatal-ḥaqāʾiq: §72, with slightmodifications).
For ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, love is a fire that burns and turnseverything into its own color, thereby reducing the lover tonothingness (see Rustom 2022). In order to experience true love, aperson must be selfless and traceless, like Iblīs, making theirconcern solely with love itself (Tamhīdāt: 98).ʿAyn al-Quḍāt also relates the divine-human loverelationship to the standard Persian Sufi imagery of the moth(Persian,parwāna) and candle (shamʿ). Themoth, which symbolizes the lover, naturally lunges itself into thecandle, which symbolizes the divine Beloved. All that the moth wantsand sees is the fire of the candle. When it throws itself into thecandle’s fire, neither moth nor moth-hood remain. All thatremains is the fire of love:
Without the fire, the moth is restless, but in the fire it does nothave existence. So long as the moth flutters around the fire of love,it sees the entire world as fire. And when it reaches the fire, itthrows itself in its midst. The moth does not know how todifferentiate between the fire and other than the fire. Why? Becauselove itself is all fire. (Tamhīdāt: 99)
It would not be an understatement to claim that “love” isthe lens through which ʿAyn al-Quḍāt looks at thereality of religion itself. He often approaches the topic in thecontext of his treatment of a famous Prophetic saying that speaks ofIslam as being divided into seventy-two or seventy-threesub-communities. The word for “sub-community” ismadhhab (pl.madhāhib), and can also mean“school of thought”, “position”, and even“religion”. This explains why ʿAynal-Quḍāt understands the reference to Islam’s beingdivided into seventy-twomadhāhib as not sub-communitieswithin the particular religion of Islam, but as so many differentreligious traditions within the more universal category of“Islam” or submission to God (for ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s approach to religious diversity, seeBoylston 2021). The underlying meaning of these variousmadhāhib “is displayed to a person who has gonebeyond the seventy some-odd differing religions” and who seesall things as rooted in God, the “Source of existents”(Tamhīdāt: 304–305).
For ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, a person who sees these differentreligions as distinct is better described as a “separator”than a “seeker” (Tamhīdāt: 21). Indeed,each of these ways are simply “waystations on the path toGod” (Tamhīdāt: 285), and the path to God isnothing other than religion. The “religion” in question iswhat is known in the Persian Sufi tradition asmadhhab-iʿishq or the “Religion of Love”. For ʿAynal-Quḍāt, the religion of love emphasizes unity and onenessinstead of divisions and factions, which cause people to veer into thedirection of multiplicity, disunity, and dispersion. That is why hesays that “The partisans of the seventy-two religions disputewith one another, are opposed to everyone else because of their creed,and kill one another”. But if only they had listened to hiswords, he advises, they would have realized “that everyonefollows one religion and one creed”, which is the creed of thelovers (Tamhīdāt: 339). When it comes to theselovers of God, love is the only true religion, and nothing else willsuffice:
Let me start a fire, setting aflame this religion and creed!
I put love for You in place of religion.How long shall I contain this hidden love in my wounded heart?
The goal of the path is neither religion nor creed, but You.(Tamhīdāt: 23)
Along with Ghazālī and a handful of other authors, ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s Arabic and Persian writings werehistorically influential upon intellectual and spiritual authorsworking in both these languages well into the early modern period. Bythe thirteenth century, Persian Sufi authors such as ʿAzīzal-Dīn Nasafī (d. before 1300) were drawing on his work.This influence can also be found in such famous figures as ʿAbdal-Raḥmān Jāmī (d. 1492), a follower of IbnʿArabī who read both ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’sArabic and Persian writings, and the Safavid philosopher MullāṢadrā (d. 1640), who drew on ʿAynal-Quḍāt’s unique theory of the Quran in developinghis own scriptural hermeneutics (see Rustom 2012: 31–32).ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s Persian writings were alsowell-received in Ottoman Sufi circles, particularly among followers ofthe great Sufi poet Rūmī (d. 1273). His metaphysics and Sufitheology as expounded inPaving the Path and theLetters was specifically influential upon a variety of IndianSufi authors for over five centuries, having been commented upon inPersian, naturalized into popular Indian Sufi sermons, and translatedinto languages such as Dakhini.
As far as ʿAyn al-Quḍāt’s Arabic writings go,shortly after his deathEssence of Reality became one of themost important curricular texts in the famous Madrasa Mujāhidiyyain Maragha (about 280 miles northwest of Hamadan). The core syllabusat this school was a major anthology of philosophical Sufism whichincluded works by the likes of al-Fārābī (d. 950),Avicenna, Ghazālī, and ʿUmar b. Sahlānal-Sāwī (d. after 1143). At the Mujāhidiyya, a numberof highly influential Muslim philosophers readEssence ofReality, including such giants as Suhrawardī and Fakhral-Dīn al-Rāzī (d. 1210). It is also said thatNaṣīr al-Dīn Ṭūsī (d. 1274) hadtranslated it into Persian while establishing his observatory inMaragha. A number of Ibn ʿArabī’s later Arabfollowers, such as al-Nābulusī (d. 1731), made good use ofthe metaphysics and epistemology enshrined in theEssence ofReality, which also seems to have influenced later authors inBritish India, as is evidenced in the work of Faḍl-i ḤaqqKhayrābādī (d. 1861) (see Rustom 2023a:18–21).
ʿAyn al-Quḍāt is to this day a celebrated figure inIran and beyond. In his native Hamadan there is a large culturalcomplex dedicated to his life, image, execution, and legacy. Hiswritings are commonly taught in institutions of higher learning inCanada, France, Germany, Iran, Turkey, the United Kingdom, and theUnited States, are the subjects of scholarship and major commentaries,and continue to be anthologized (most recently in Adamson &Benevich 2023: 343–344, 507–509; Rustom 2023a; Rustomforthcoming) and translated into various languages (see bibliographyin Rustom 2023a).
For a full bibliography, see:
Rustom, Mohammed, 2023,Inrushes of the Heart: The Sufi Philosophyof ʿAyn al-Quḍāt, Albany, NY: State University ofNew York Press.
How to cite this entry. Preview the PDF version of this entry at theFriends of the SEP Society. Look up topics and thinkers related to this entry at the Internet Philosophy Ontology Project (InPhO). Enhanced bibliography for this entryatPhilPapers, with links to its database.
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al-Farabi |al-Ghazali |al-Razi, Fakhr al-Din |Arabic and Islamic Philosophy, disciplines in: philosophy of religion |Arabic and Islamic Philosophy, special topics in: mysticism |Ibn ‘Arabī |Ibn Sina [Avicenna] |Mulla Sadra |Plato: middle period metaphysics and epistemology |Plato:Parmenides |Plotinus |Suhrawardi |Umar Khayyam
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