2022/05/03

Toshihiko Izutsu Sufism And Taoism P1.Ch17XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect Man

 SUFISM AND TAOISM: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts

by Toshihiko Izutsu 1983

First published 1983 by Iwanami Shoten, Publishers, Tokyo
This edition is published by The University of California Press, 1984,
Rev. ed. of: A comparative study of the key philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism. 1966-67.

=====

Contents

Preface by T. Izutsu
Introduction

Part I - Ibn 'Arabi
1 Dream and Reality
II The Absolute in its Absoluteness
III The Self-knowledge of Man
IV Metaphysical Unification and Phenomenal Dispersion
V Metaphysical Perplexity
VI The Shadow of the Absolute
VII The Divine Nam es
VIII Allah and the Lord
IX Ontological Mercy
X The Water of Life
XI The Self-manifestation of the Absolute
XII Permanent Archetypes
XIII Creation
XIV Man as Microcosm
XV The Perfect Man as an Individual
XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint
XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect Man

Part II - Lao-Tzii & Chuang-Tzu

I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu
II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics
III Dream and Reality
IV Beyond This and That
V The Birth of a New Ego
VI Against Essentialism
VII The Way
VIII The Gateway of Myriad Wonders
IX Determinism and Freedom
X Absolute Reversai of Values
XI The Perfect Man
XII Homo Politicus

Part III - A Comparative Reftection 

I Methodological Preliminaries
II The Inner Transformation of Man
III The Multistratified Structure of Reality
IV Essence and Existence
V The Self-evolvement of Existence
===

XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect
Man

Ibn 'Arabi recognizes in the Perfect Man a particular kind of magi-
cal power. This is hardly to be wondered at, because the Perfect

Man, as a 'knower' ('arif), is by definition a man with an unusually

developed spiritual power. His mind naturally shows an extraordi-
nary activity.

This extraordinary power is known as himmah, meaning a con-
centrated spiritual energy. According to Ibn' Arabi, a 'knower' can,

if he likes, affect any abject by merely concentrating all his spiritual
energy upon it; he can even bring into existence a thing which is not
actually existent. In brief, a 'knower' is able to subjugate anything to
his will. He is endowed with the power of taskhir. 1
The word taskhir reminds us of King Salomon. It is widely known

and accepted in Islam that Salomon was in possession of a super-
natural power by which he could dominate Nature and move it at

will. He could, for instance, cause winds to blow in whatever direc-
tion he wished. He is said to have been able to contrai at will

invisible beings.
According to Ibn 'Arabi, however, Salomon did not exercise his
contrai over Nature by his himmah. In this respect, Salomon
occupies a very special place. It was a special favor of God granted
to him in a peculiar way. For, in order to work miracles, he did not
have to have recourse to the particular concentration of mind
known as himmah. He had only to 'command' ( amr). Whatever was
commanded by him to do anything, moved immediately as it was
commanded. This kind of taskhir is, in the judgment of Ibn' Arabi, a
degree higher than the taskhir by himmah, because the former is a
direct working upon the abject.
The taskhïr which was peculiar to Solomon, which made him superior
to others, and which God had given him as (an essential) part of the
kingship never to be given to anybody after him - this taskhïr was
characterized by its being exercised by his 'command'. God says:
'Thus have We subjugated to him (i.e., Solomon) the wind so that it
might blow by his command (XXI, 81) (That which is really

lii1
11
1
11
1

276 Sufism and Taoism
characteristic of Solomon' s case) is not the simple fact that he could
exercise taskhir. For God says concerning ail of us without any
discrimination: 'And We have subjugated to you ail that are in
heaven and in earth' (XXXI, 20). Thus He speaks of having put
under our control winds, stars, and others. But (in our case) the
taskhir occurs not by our command, but by the Command of God. So
you will find by reflection that what was peculiar to Solomon was (not
the taskhïr itself) but in fact that (the taskhïr) could be exercised by
his own command. In order to do that, he did not need any mental
concentration or himmah; ail he had to do was to 'command'.
I mention this point specifically because we ail know that the things of
the world can be affected and influenced by a particular kind
of mental force when the latter happens to be in a heightened state of

concentration. I have witnessed this phenomenon in my own (mysti-
cal) life. Solomon, however, had only to pronounce the word of

command to anything he wanted to control, without there being any
need for himmah and concentration. 2

What kind of thing, then, is this spiritual concentration called him-
mah? It may be most easily understood if we try to conceive it on the

analogy of our ordinary experience of imagination. We can produce
in imagination anything we like, even things that are not existent in
the outside world. Such an imagined abject exists only within our
minds. In a somewhat similar way, a true 'knower' who has attained
to the stage of walayah is able to produce by his concentrated

spiritual power things that are not actually there, with this differ-
ence, however, that he produces the object in the outer world of

reality. This is obviously a kind of 'creation' (khalq). But it should
not be identified or confused with the Divine act of creation.
Anybody can create within his mind by means of his faculty of
imagination things that have no existence except in imagination
itself. This is a matter of common experience. But the 'knower'
creates by himmah things that do have existence outside the place of
the himmah (i.e., outside the mind).
(However, the object thus created by himmah continues to exist)
only as long as the himmah maintains it without being weakened by
the keeping of what it has created. As soon as the concentration
slackens and the mind of the 'knower' becomes distracted from the
keeping of what it has created, the object created disappears. This,
however, does not apply to those special cases in which a 'knower'
has obtained a firm control over ail the Presences ( ontological levels
of Being) so that his mind never loses sight of them ail at the same
time. In fact, the mind of such a man ( even if it loses sight of the
Presences, does not lose sight of ail together); there surely remains at
least one Presence present to his mind. 3
We must recall at this juncture the five Presences of Being to which
reference was made in the first chapter. The Presences are classified
variously. One of the classifications, to give an example of

The Magical Power of the Perfect Man 277
classification which is a little different from the one explained in the
first chapter, makes the whole world of Being consist of ( 1) the
Presence of the senses (i.e., the plane of the sensible experience),
(2) the Presence of Images-Exemplars, (3) the Presence of the
Spirits (arwah ), ( 4) the Presence of the Intellects ('uqül), and the
Presence of the Essence. But the way in which the Presences are
classified is not very important in the present context. What is of
primary importance is to know that the world of Being is structured
in terms of levels or planes and that these planes are related to each
other in an organic way. This means that anything that exists in the
plane of sensible experience, for instance, has a corresponding
existence also in the higher planes in a particular form peculiar to
each plane, so that ultimately it goes back to the very Essence of the
Absolute as its ontological ground.
Because of this particular structure of Being, the' knower' can, by
concentrating his entire spiritual energy upon an object on one of
the suprasensible levels, produce the object in a sensible form on
the level of concrete reality. Also by maintaining spiritually the
form of an object on a higher level he can maintain the forms of the
same object on the lower levels of Being.
But this spiritual 'creation' is essentially different from the Divine
Creation in one vital point. When, for example, the 'knower' has
produced by himmah an object in a sensible form, the object thus
'created' on the level of sensible experience continues to subsist on
that level only during the time in which he continues to maintain his
spiritual concentration. The moment his attention becomes less
keen by the effect of drowsiness or by a different idea occurring to
his mind, the object ceases to exist on the level of the senses.
However, Ibn' Arabi adds, in the case of the highest 'knower', his
spiritual power dominating all the basic five planes of Being, there is
always at least one level on which the spiritual concentration is
maintained even if his attention becomes less keen and less intense
on other levels. In such a case, the object 'created' may be preserved
for a long period of time.
By saying this, I have disdosed a secret which the people of God (i.e.,
mystics) have always jealously guarded themselves from revealing
for fear that something might corne to light which would contradict
their daim to the effect that they are the Absolute. (Against this
daim I have disdosed the fact that) the Absolute never becomes
forgetful of anything, white man must necessarily be always forgetful
of this particular thing or that.
Only as long as a man spiritually maintains what he has 'created', is he
in a position to say, 'I am the Creator!' (ana al-f}aqq). However, his
maintaining the 'created' object is entirely different from God's
maintaining. I have just explained the difference.

278 Sufism and Taoism
As long as he becomes forgetful of even one form and its ontological
level, man is to be distinguished from the Absolu te. He is naturally to
be distinguished from the Absolu te even if he main tains all the forms
(of an object on different levels) by maintaining one of the forms on
its proper level of which he happens to be unforgetful, because this is

after alla kind of'implicit' (tacf,ammun) maintaining. God's maintain-
ing what He has created is not like this; He maintains every form

'explicitly' (i.e., He maintains all forms of the thing, each on its
proper level individually).
This is a question which no one, as far as 1 know, has even written in
any book, neither myself nor others. This is the only and the first
book in which (the secret has been disclosed). The present work is in
this sense a unique pearl of the age. Keep this well in mind!
The particular level of Being4 to which the mind of the 'knower' is
kept present, being concentrated on the form (of an object which he
has created on that ontological level), may be compared to the 'Book'
of which God says: 'We have not neglected anything in the Book (of
Decrees)' (VI, 38), so that it comprehends both what has been
actualized and what has not yet been actualized. But what 1 say here
will never be understood except by those who are themselves the
'gathering' principle ( qur' iin). 5
Thus it has been clarified that a man who can gather his himmah in
such a comprehensive way is able to do so because he 'gathers'

together in his consciousness all the levels of Being into a com-
prehensive unity. Such a man stands closest to God, with the only

difference which has just been explained. The difference, in short,
results from the furqan. And precisely because of the furqan he is
essentially distinguished from God.
The important point, however, is that this 'separating' is not an
ordinary furqan. It is the highestfurqan (arfa' furqan) 1 because it is
a furqan after the 'gathering'. In the case of an ordinary man, the
'separating' which he exercises is a pre-fana' phenomenon; he has
not yet had any experience of 'self-annihilation', that is, he has not
yet 'tasted' his essential oneness with the Absolute. The 'separating'

he exercises in such a state is an absolute, unconditional 'separa-
tion'. He is absolutely and unconditionally 'separated' and distin-
guished' from the Absolute.

The 'knower', on the contrary, is a man who has already passed
through the experience of 'self-annihilation' and, consequently,
knows through personal experience his essential oneness with the
Absolu te. He knows it, and yet distinguishes in himself between the
'Divine aspect' (lahüt) and the 'human aspect' (nasüt), i.e., between
the Absolute and the creature. This 'separating' is not a mere

'separating'; it is a 'separating' of a higher order. And this corres-
ponds to what is generally known in Sufi terminology as 'self-
subsistence' (baqa').

The Magical Power of the Perfect Man 279
Now, if we consider in the light of this conception the idea of
himmah, we are led to the following understanding of it. The highest
'knower', while he is actually exercising his himmah, is in a certain

sense a 'creator' (khaliq); all the traces of his 'servant-ness' disap-
pear from his consciousness, and he feels 'Lordship' living and

acting in himself. He f eels himself to be a 'Lord', and has the clear

consciousness that everything in the whole world is under his con-
trai. This is the stage of 'gathering' (qur' an). However, this state is

but a temporary and unstable one, because if his mind slackens and
loses its highest intensity of concentration even for a moment, he
becomes immediately conscious of his 'impotence' ('ajz) and is
necessarily faced with his own 'servantness'. And this is the stage of
'separating' (furqan). 8
We must observe also that himmah is, in its practical aspect, a free
disposai of things (taskhir al-ashya'), while in its cognitive aspect it
is an extraordinary power to penetrate the secret of Being which lies
beyond the grasp of Reason. It is significant in this respect that Ibn
'Arabï in a passage of the declares that the true reality
(IJ,aqiqah) of Being can only be known by a 'servant endowed with

himmah'. Himmah consists essentially in that a 'knower' concen-
trates all his spiritual powers upon one single point and projects his

concentrated heart (qalb) toward a certain definite direction. This
act works in two different, but closely related, ways: (1) producing
something or some state of affairs in a place where such a thing or
state of affairs does not sensibly exist, and (2) tearing apart the veil
of Reason and bringing to light the reality lying behind it.
The supernatural power of himmah being as described, the next
question that naturally arises is: Does the 'knower', i.e., the Perfect
Man, work 'miracles' (karamat) as he likes?
According to the usual theory among Sufis, a 'knower' who has
reached the stage of 'saintship' is in a position to perform 'things
that go against the customs' (khawariq-al- 'adat), i.e., 'miracles'.
Such a man is usually represented as a kind of superman who,
projecting his spiritual power to anything and an y body, affects and
changes the abject at will.
Ibn' Arabï does not accept this view. In the Qoran, he argues, 10
we find the Divine words: 'God is He who creates you of weakness'
(XXX, 54). The very root of man's creation is 'weakness' (<J,a'f).
Man is essentially and naturally 'weak' (<J,a'ïf) and 'powerless'
('ajiz). He begins with the weakness of the infant and ends with the
weakness of the old man. Of course, as the Qoran verse itself
admits, 11 the child, as he grows into a man, acquires 'strength'
(quwwah) and becomes conscious of his own strength. But this,
after ail, is a transitory state. Soon he grows old and falls into

11
1

280 Sujism and Taoism

decrepitude. Besides, the 'strength' which he obtains in the inter-
mediary stage is but an 'accidentai strength' (quwwah 'ara<J,iyah).

Moreover, this accidentai strength is not something which he pro-
duces in himself, but is a result of God's 'putting'. In reality, he

shows strength only because he happens to be at that stage a locus of
theophany in which God manifests Himself under the Name
'Powerful' ( qawiy).
What is by essence strong is the Absolute alone; man is strong
only by accident. Ordinary men do not know this. Only the true
'knower' knows that the strength (including himmah) which he feels
in himself is not his own but God's.
And since he is conscious of this, the 'knower' knows also that it is
not right for him to try to exercise at will the power of himmah. Thus
he confides its exercise to the real owner of that power, and puts
himself in the original state of the 'absolute powerlessness' ('ajz
mutfaq).

Someone may say: 'What prevents (the highest 'knower') from exer-
cising his himmah that has a positive power to affect things? Since

such a power does exist even in those mystics who merely follow the
Apostles, the Apostles must be more appropriate to possess it'.
To this 1 will answer: 'You are certainly right. But you do not know

another important point. A true "knowledge" does not allow him-
mah to be freely exercised. And the higher the knowledge, the less

possibility there is for a free exercise of himmah'.
And this for two reasons. One is that such a man fully realizes his
state of 'servant-ness' and that he is always conscious of the original

ground of his own creation (which is the above-mentioned 'weak-
ness'). The other is the oneness of the subject who exercises himmah

and the object upon which it is exercised (for both are essentially and
ultimately the Absolute, nothing else), so that he does not know upon
whom to project his himmah. This prevents him from exercising
himmah. 12
Tuen Ibn' Arabi says 13 that another reason for which the 'knower'
refrains from working 'miracles' in the world is the knowledge
about the absolute determining power of the permanent
archetypes, which we have discussed in detail in an earlier chapter.
Suppose there is in the presence of the 'knower' a man who
disobeys the commands of the Apostle and thereby disobeys God.
Why does the 'knower' not exercise his himmah upon this man so
that he might be brought back to the right road? It is because
everything, every event in the world is in accordance with what has
been eternally determined in the form of an or
archetypes. The 'knower' knows that this ontological determination
can never be changed. In the eyes of a man who has penetrated into
the depth of the structure of Being, everything follows the track

The Magical Power of the Perfect Man 281
fixed by the very nature of Being, and nothing can deviate from it. In
the light of this knowledge, even a man disobedient to God is
walking along the God-determined way. And it is not in the power
of an Apostle to bring such a man back to the 'right road', because
the man is already on the 'right road'.

A certain Sufi of the highest rank once said to Mas ter 'Abd al-
Razzâq: Go and ask Master Abü Madyan, after salutations, 'O Abü

Madyan, why is it that nothing is impossible tous, while everything is
impossible to you? And yet here we are, aspiring to your spiritual
stage, while you do not care for our spiritual stage. Why?' 14
In fact, the situation was exactly like that (i.e., Abü Madyan really
showed signs of'powerlessness') in spite of the fact that Abü Madyan
had, beside this state (i.e. the state of 'powerlessness'), the other state
(i.e., that of free disposai of things by means of himmah).
We (i.e., Ibn' Arabi himself) are even more complete as regards the
state of 'weakness' and 'powerlessness'. But ( even though Abü

Madyan did not show so much of 'weakness' as we do) the afore-
mentioned Sufi of the highest rank said to him what he said. (How

much more should we be worthy of such a remark, if the same Sufi
were to criticize us.) In any event, however, Abü Madyan's case
clearly exemplifies that kind of thing (i.e., the showing of 'weakness'
because of a deep knowledge of the truth).15
Ibn 'Arabi goes on to argue that even this state of 'weakness' or
refraining from exercising himmah should not properly be taken as
a willful act on the part of the 'knower'. The true 'knower' puts
himself entirely in the hands of God; if He commands him to
exercise his himmah he does, if He forbids him to do so he refrains
from it, and if God Himself gives him a choice between the two he
chooses refraining from the exercise of himmah.
Abu al-Su'üd (Ibn al-Shibl) once said to his followers: Verily God
gave me the power of the free disposai of things fifteen years ago. But
I have refrained from exercising that power for the sake of courtesy
(tazarrufan) toward God.
This saying implies too much bold familiarity ( toward God). I myself
do not refrain from exercising himmah for the sake of courtesy,
because such an attitude would imply a willful choice on my part. No.
I refrain from it because of the perfection of knowledge. The true

knowledge of the matter does not require refraining from the exer-
cise of himmah by way of willful choice. Whenever a 'knower' does

exercise his himmah in this world, he does soin obedience to a Divine
Command; that is to say, he does so because he is constrained to do
so, not by way of willful choice. 16
The position of an Apostle regarding this problem of 'refraining' is
somewhat more delicate than that of a Saint.17 Properly speaking
the fonction itself of' apostleship' requires his exercising himmah in

282 Sufism and Taoism
order that his being an Apostle be made clear to the people. For
only when he is accepted as such by the community, is he able to
spread the true religion of God. The Saint perse has nothing to do
with such a mission.
And yet, even the Apostle (Mul)ammad) did not try to show
prophetic 'miracles' (mu'jizat). For one thing, he refrained from
exercising his himmah because of his compassion for the people. He
did not go to extremes in ma nif esting the conclusive evidence of his
'apostleship' because it would have brought destruction to them. He
spared them by not showing them too strong evidences of his
'apostleship'. Besides this, Mul)ammad had another reason shared
by all true Saints for refraining from working miracles; namely, his
knowledge that a 'miracle' can never change the eternally fixed
course of events. Whether a man becomes a Muslim or not is
determined by his archetype; it is not something which can easily be·
changed by the Apostle accomplishing before his eyes a 'miracle'.
Thus even the most perfect of all Apostles (akmal al-rusul),

Mul)ammad, did not exercise himmah. There was actually a practi-
cal need for showing 'miracles', and he was unquestionably

endowed with such a power. And yet he did not exercise his spiritual
power in that way. For, being the highest 'knower', he knew better
than anybody else that 'miracles' were, in truth, .ineffective.
The most ideal state of the Perfect Man is a spiritual tranquility and
quietude of an unfathomable depth. He is a quiet man content with
a passivity in which he confides himself and every thing else to God's

disposai. The Perfect Man is a man who, having in himself a tre-
mendous spiritual power and being adorned with the highest know-
ledge of Being, gives the impression of a deep cairn ocean. He is

such because he is the most perf ect image, in a concrete individual
form, of the cosmic Perfect Man who comprehends and actualizes
all the Names and Attributes of the Absolute.
Notes
1. Taskhir literally means 'forcing somebody to compulsory service, controlling
something at will'. In discussing the problem of the 'compulsory' force of the
permanent archetypes we have already corne across the word taskhir in the form of a
'mutual taskhir' between the Absolute and the world.
2. Fu.!i., p. 199/158.
3. Fu$., p. 90/88-89.
4. Again Ibn' Arabï goes back to the case in which the' knower' main tains spiritually
all the forms of an object on all the levels of Being by actually concentrating on one of
the levels.

The Magical Power of the Perfect Man 283
5. Fu.!i ., p. 91189-90.
6. On the difference between 'gathering' (qur'àn) and 'separating' (fu.rqàn) see
above, Chapter II.
7. Fu.!i., p. 91190.
8. Cf. Fu.!i., p. 92/90.
9. Fu.!i., p. 148/121.
10. Fu.!i., p. 156/127.
11. The verse reads: 'God is He who creates you of weakness, then puts (ja'ala) after
weakness strength (quwwah), then again puts weakness after strength.'
12. Fu.!i., p. 157/127-128.
13. Fu.!i., pp. 157-158/128.
14. It means: We can freely accomplish 'miracles', but you apparently cannot. And
yet we want to attain to your spiritual stage, while you do not show any sign of being
desirous of attaining to our spiritual stage.
15. Fu.!i., p. 158/129.
16. Fu.!i., p. 159/129-130.
17. ibid.




Toshihiko Izutsu Sufism And Taoism P1.Ch16XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint

 SUFISM AND TAOISM: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts

by Toshihiko Izutsu 1983

First published 1983 by Iwanami Shoten, Publishers, Tokyo
This edition is published by The University of California Press, 1984,
Rev. ed. of: A comparative study of the key philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism. 1966-67.

=====

Contents

Preface by T. Izutsu
Introduction

Part I - Ibn 'Arabi
1 Dream and Reality
II The Absolute in its Absoluteness
III The Self-knowledge of Man
IV Metaphysical Unification and Phenomenal Dispersion
V Metaphysical Perplexity
VI The Shadow of the Absolute
VII The Divine Nam es
VIII Allah and the Lord
IX Ontological Mercy
X The Water of Life
XI The Self-manifestation of the Absolute
XII Permanent Archetypes
XIII Creation
XIV Man as Microcosm
XV The Perfect Man as an Individual
XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint
XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect Man

Part II - Lao-Tzii & Chuang-Tzu

I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu
II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics
III Dream and Reality
IV Beyond This and That
V The Birth of a New Ego
VI Against Essentialism
VII The Way
VIII The Gateway of Myriad Wonders
IX Determinism and Freedom
X Absolute Reversai of Values
XI The Perfect Man
XII Homo Politicus

Part III - A Comparative Reftection 

I Methodological Preliminaries
II The Inner Transformation of Man
III The Multistratified Structure of Reality
IV Essence and Existence
V The Self-evolvement of Existence
===

XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint

The preceding chapter has revealed that the moment we begin to

consider Man on the individual level, we are faced with the exist-
ence of several degrees among men. We have seen also that the

highest of ail human degrees is 'saintship' ( waliiyah). The Saint
( waliy) is the highest 'knower' of God, and consequently (in terms
of the world-view of Ibn' Arabï) of the essential structure of Being.
Otherwise expressed, the Saint is the Perfect Man par excellence.
The central topic of this chapter will be the concept of 'saintship' .1
We may begin by remarking that, in Ibn' Arabï's understanding, the
concept of Saint comprises both Prophet (nabiy) and Apostle
(rasül). Briefly stated, the Saint is the widest concept comprising

Prophet and Apostle; next is the concept of Prophet which com-
prises that of Apostle; and the Apostle is the narrowest of ail. As

al-Qâshânï says, 'every Apostle is a Prophet, and every Prophet is a
Saint', but not vice versa.

On the relation between the three concepts, there is a consider-
ably long passage in the Fu$Ü$ 2 in which Ibn 'Arabï develops his

thought. The argument is very entangled and somewhat confusing,
but the gist of it may be clarified in the following way.
The first point to note concerning the concept of Saint is that
waliy is properly a Divine Name. The fact that waliy is one of the
Names of God implies that it is an aspect of the Absolute. In this
respect, the Saint is radically different from the Prophet and the
Apostle because the words nabiy and rasül are not Divine Names;
they are peculiar to human beings. 'Waliy is a Name of God', as Ibn
'Arabi says, 'but God has neither called Himself nabiy nor rasül,
while He has named Himself waliy and has made it one of His own
Names' .3

Thus waliy is a Divine Name. But even a man, when his know-
ledge of God attains to its highest point, becomes entitled to be

called by the same name; he is a waliy. However, the human waliy

himself, being so keenly conscious of his 'servant-ness' ('ubüd-
ïyah) does not like to make the name publicly his own. For he knows

1111
1 !'
111

1

264 Sufem and Taoism
that the word waliy properly belongs to God alone, and that when a
human being becomes a waliy he is supposed to have transcended
his position of 'servant-ness' and have put himself in the position of
Lordship (rubübïyah ). But, whether he likes it or not, it does
sometimes happen that a mystic transcends his position of
'servant-ness'. This occurs by a mystic being completely drowned in
the Absolute and losing the consciousness of his own
'servant-ness' .4
lt is to be remarked that, since waliy is a name common to God

and Man, the walayah never ceases to exist. As God exists everlast-
ingly, the 'saintship' will exist forever. As long as there remains in

the world even a single man of the highest spiritual power who
attains to the rank of 'saintship' - and, in fact, such a man will
certainly exist in every age -the 'saintship' itself will be kept intact.

In contrast to this, the prophethood and apostleship are histori-
cally conditioned, and can, therefore, be intermittent or even disap-
pear completely. 5 As a matter of fact, we know that the chain of

prophethood has historically corne to an end at Mu])ammad, the last
of all authentic Prophets. After Mu])ammad, there does not exist
any longer a Prophet, who is at the same time a Law-giver
(musharri'). After Mu])ammad we have only what Ibn' Arabi calls
'general prophethood' (nubuwwah 'ammah ), i.e., prophethood
without institution of Law, which is nothing other than 'saintship'.
Only this name (i.e., waliy) remains forever among mankind, not
only in the present world but also in the Hereafter. As for the names
which are peculiar to Man to the exclusion of God (i.e., Prophet and
Apostle), they cease to exist with the cessation of prophethood and

apostleship. God, however, has shown special mercy upon his ser-
vants and has allowed to subsist among them 'general prophethood'

which is not accompanied by institution of Law. 6
This passage makes it clear that, in the conception of Ibn 'Arabi,
institution of Law (tashri') constitutes one of the characteristics of
the Prophet. From this particular point of view, he divides the
Prophets into two kinds: (1) those who institute Law (nabiy
musharri') and (2) those whose prophetic activity is done within a
given Law (nabiy musharra' la-hu). The first category is represented
by men like Moses, Jesus, and Mu])ammad, each one of whom
instituted a particular Law by a Divine Command. The second
category is exemplified by those who, like the successive Prophets in
Israel, live and fulfil their prophetic mission within the boundaries
of a given Law instituted by Moses.
Since, as we have seen, the Saint is the widest concept in terms of
extension and is the most basic one at that, there can be no Prophet,
no Apostle unless the' saintship' is first established. The Prophet is a
""'
Apostle, Prophet, and Saint 265
Saint who adds to his 'saintship' one more distinguishing mark;
namely, a particular knowledge of things unknown and unseen.

And the Apostle is a Saint who adds to his 'saintship' and 'prophet-
hood' one more characteristic; namely being conscious of the mis-
sion and capacity of conveying Divine messages to the people who

follow him.
From this we leam that the first requirement for a man to be a
Perfect Man is to be in the rank of a waliy, and that waliiyah is the
mostfundamental and most general attribute of all types of Perfect
Man. What, then, does walayah mean?
Waliiyah implies, first and foremost, a perfect knowledge of the
ultimate truth conceming the Absolute, the world, and the relation
between the Absolute and the world. 7 A man who has attained to

the rank of 'saintship' has a clear consciousness that he is a self-
manifestation of the Absolute, and that, as such, he is essentially

one with the Absolute, and, indeed, ultimately is the Absolute itself.
He is also conscious of the fact that, on the analogy of the inner

structure of himself, all the phenomenal Many are self-
manifestations of the Absolute and are, in the sense, one with the

Absolute. This precisely is the consciousness of the ultimate and
essential 'oneness of Being' (wa}Jdah al-wujüd).
This consciousness of the 'oneness of Being' he obtains only by
being 'annihilated' and completely immersed in the Absolute.
Through the experience of'self-annihilation' he transforms himself,
so to speak, into the 'inside' of the Absolute, and from there sees the

reality of all things by 'immediate tasting'. The concept of 'self-
annihilation' (fana') in this sense plays an exceedingly important

role in the theory of waliiyah. The 'self-annihilation' is, in fact, the
first item in the essential attributes of the Saint.
Ibn 'Arabi distinguishes three stages in 'self-annihilation' .8 The
first is the annihilation of the attributes. This stage is called by Ibn

'Arabi takhalluq. lt means that the mystic has all his human attri-
butes 'annihilated' and in their place 'assumes as his own' (takhal-
luq) the Divine Attributes. lt is, as Bali Efendi tersely describes it,9

'annihilating his attributes in the Attributes of the Absolute'. The
second stage is called tal)aqquq. It means that the mystic has his
essence (dhat) 'annihilated' and realizes (tal)aqquq) in himself his

being one with the Absolute. Bali Efendi 10 describes it as 'annihilat-
ing his essence in the Essence of the Absolute'. The third and the

last stage is called ta'alluq. The word ta'alluq, meaning literally 'firm
adherence', indicates that the man in this state remains firmly
attached to the essential property of walâyah so that he is never

separated from it no matter what he may do in the world of empiri-
cal existence. The state of ta'alluq corresponds to what is more

266 Sufism and Taoism
usually known as the state of 'self-subsistence' (baqâ') which cornes
after the state of fanâ'. In this spiritual state, the mystic regains his
self which he has once annihilated, but he regains it not in himself
but in the very midst of the Divine Essence. In his fully illumined
consciousness, there is no longer any trace of his old persona! ego.
He is only conscious that after having lost his life he now subsists in
the Divine Essence, and that, therefore, it is, in reality, not he who
exists but the Absolute itself. Whatever he does, it is not he but God
who does it. Bali Efendi describes it as 'annihilating his actions in
the actions of the Absolu te'. 11

'Saintship' cornes into existence only on the basis of the experi-
ence of 'self-annihilation' here depicted. And wide indeed is the

consciousness of the Saint who has passed through such an experi-
ence. For he witnesses the astonishing scene of all things merging

into the limitless ocean of Divine Life, and he is conscious that all
this is actually taking place in himself. At the very height of this
spiritual state, the consciousness of the Saint is identical with the
Divine Consciousness which has not yet begun to become split into
an infinity of 'determillations' (ta'ayynnât). 12 Such a man is the
highest 'knower'. And such a man naturally falls into deep silence
(suküt), 13 because the content of the deepest knowledge is ineffable.
Such is the existential ground on which stands 'saintship'. And on
this basis stands 'prophethood' with an additional property, and on
'prophethood' stands 'apostleship' with a further addition. The
Prophet and the Apostle are closely tied to the present world; their
fonctions concern the life in this world, for institution of Law always
aims at regulating the worldly life with a view to letting people
obtain the everlasting happiness in the next world. 'Saintship', on
the contrary, has no such essential relation to the present world.
Thus 'prophethood' and 'apostleship' can disappear from their

subjects, but the quality or title of 'saintship' never leaves its sub-
ject. Those from whom the titles of 'prophethood' and 'apostleship'

disappear become immediately Saints without any qualifications.
And sin ce, in the Hereafter, there can be no institution of Law,
everybody who is in the present world a Prophet or Apostle will
continue to exist in the next world in the rank of 'saintship' .14
As we have just remarked, the Prophet is a Saint with the addition
of a different qualification (i.e., the rank of 'saintship' plus the rank
of 'prophethood'), and the Apostle is a Prophet with the addition of
a further qualification (i.e., the rank of 'saintship' plus the rank of
'prophethood' plus the rank of 'apostleship'). So the Prophet uni tes
in one person two ranks, and the Apostle unîtes in himself three
different ranks. There are thus three different ranks recognized:

'saintship', 'prophethood' and 'apostleship'. The question is natur-
i •.

Apostle, Prophet, and Saint 267
ally raised as to which of them·is higher than which. With regard to
this question, the most problematic point, according to Ibn 'Arabï,
concerns the position of 'saintship'. Against those sufis who regard
'saintship' qua 'saintship' as higher than 'prophethood' and
'apostleship', he emphatically states that it is only when these two or
three ranks co-exist in one person that we can rightly regard his
'saintship' as higher than his 'prophethood' and 'apostleship'.
(When one and the same person unites in him these two or three
qualifications) the man in the capacity of a 'knower' or Saint is more
complete and more perfect than himself in the capacity of an Apostle
or in that of a man who has instituted a Divine Law (i.e., Prophet).
So whenever you hear a man belonging to the 'people of God' saying
- or whenever such a saying is conveyed to you through somebody

else - that 'saintship' is higher than 'prophethood', you must under-
stand him to mean what 1 have just remarked.

Likewise, when such a man declares that the Saint stands above the
Prophet and the Apostle, he is simply talking about one and the same
person. In fact, the Apostle qua Saint is more complete (and perfect)
than himself qua Prophet and Apostle. It is not the case, however,
that a Saint (i.e., a different person who happens to be a Saint) who
follows ( another person who happens to be a Prophet or Apostle in
the community) is higher than the Prophet or Apostle. 15
The last sentence of this passage points out the fact that in case the
three qualifications (Saint, Prophet, and Apostle) do not concern
one and the same person but three different persons, there is a

respect in which the Saint must necessarily follow and be subordi-
nate to the Prophet or Apostle. And this because the Apostle

possesses a knowledge of the particular Law (i.e., 'exterior know-
ledge' 'ilm zàhir) with which he has been sent to his community,

while the Saint has no such knowledge. In what concerns the regula-
tions of the Law, the latter must follow the Apostle of his age.

But there is also a certain respect in which the Saint is superior to
the Apostle. For the Saint not only possesses a complete knowledge
about God and the reality of things ('interior knowledge', 'ilm
bàtin) but also is conscious of the fact that he has that knowledge.
But neither the Apostle nor the Prophet is conscious of it, although
they, too, do possess the same knowledge.

From the fact that 'apostleship' is based on three different con-
stituents there naturally follows that there are differences among

the Apostles regarding their degrees. This is the conception of the
'difference in degrees among the Apostles' (tafâ<J,ul al-rusul).
All Apostles, in terms of their 'saintship', are equal and stand on
the same level, but in actuality they must necessarily differ one from
the other because of their intimate relations with the concrete

11111
1

268 Sufism and Taoism
situations of the age and country in which they live. And the same is
true of the Prophet. The nature and rank of an Apostle is decisively
affected by the conditions, material and spiritual, determining the
situation of the nation of which he happens to be the Apostle.
Likewise, the rank of a Prophet is gravely affected by the amount of
knowledge he actually has.
Know that the Apostles qua Apostles - not qua Saints or 'knowers' -

stand in different degrees, each according to the state of his commun-
ity. For the a mou nt of his knowledge concerning his own apostolic

mission is exactly measured to what his community needs, no more,
no less. And since communities differ from each other in terms
of relative superiority, the Apostles also are higher and lower in
terms of the knowledge of their mission in exact accordance with the
difference that exists among the nations. And to this refers the saying
of God: 'Those Apostles, We have made some of them superior to
others'. (II, 253)

Likewise, (the Prophets) diff er in rank among themselves in accor-
dance with their individual capacities with regard to their persona!

knowledges and judgments. 'And to this refers the saying of God:
And We have made some of the Prophets superior to others'. (XVII,
55)16
In the preceding chapter we have seen that the Perfect Man on the
cosmic level is the 'vicegerent' of God. The same is true also of the
Perfect Man on the individual level. Here on the level of individual
persans, the idea of the Perfect Man is embodied by Saint, Prophet,
and Apostle. These three are the 'vicegerents' (khulafa') of God
because they are the most perfect and most complete loci of
theophany on the earth. 11 They are concrete manifestations of the
'Reality of Mub.ammad' (al-}Jaqiqah al-mu}Jammadiyah) which we
have discussed in the previous chapter. 18
The term khalifah meaning 'vicegerent' is a little ambiguous,
because we ordinarily use it to designate the political head of the
Muslim community, the Caliph. 19 In view of this fact, Ibn 'Arabï

strictly distinguishes between two kinds of khalifah: (1) the 'vice-
gerent of God' (khalifah Allah, or khalifah 'an Allah) and (2) the

'vicegerent (or successor) of the Apostle' (khalifah al-rasül, or
khalifah 'an al-rasül). The 'vicegerent' in the sense of the Perfect
Man (1) is totally different from the Caliph, the historical and
political head of the Muslim community, who assumes the same
name khalifah (2).
God has His 'vicegerents' on the earth; they are the Apostles. As for
the Caliphs we know today, they are ('vicegerents' or 'successors') of
the Apostles, not of God, because a Caliph governs (the community)
strictly according to the dicta tes of the Law of an apostolic origin, and
never goes beyond it. 20

Apostle, Prophet, and Saint 269
There are, however, exceptional cases in which a Caliph, i.e., a
'vicegerent' succeeding the Apostle, is in touch with the very source
from which the latter has drawn his knowledge, and govems the
community according to the inner Law which he receives direct
from God. Such a man is outwardly a khalifah of the Apostle, but
inwardly is a khalifah of God.
Su ch a man is outwardly a follower (muttabi', namely, of the Apostle)
in the sense that he conforms himself (to the Law) in governing the
community: Jesus, for example, when he will corne down to the earth

and govern the world. 21 Another example is the Prophet Mul)am-
mad. And to this refers the saying of God: 'These are the men whom

God has given guidance. So follow their guidance' (VI, 90). A man of
this sort is, in virtue of the way in which he derives (his knowledge)
and of which he is conscious, both 'specially privileged'
and 'conforming' (muwafiq). 22 In this respect he is somewhat in the
same position as the Prophet (Mul)ammad) who, confirming as he did
the Law of the Apostles who had preceded him, confirmed it in his
own name, so that we, his followers, actually follow him (accepting
the Law) as his own, and not as a Law established by some of his
predecessors. In like manner, the 'vicegerent of God' obtains (his
knowledge) from exactly the sa me source as the Apostle.
Such a man is called, in mystic terminology, 'the vicegerent of God',
but, in ordinary (non-mystic) terminology, 'the vicegerent of the
Apostle of God'.

This is the reason why the Apostle of God (Mul)ammad) died with-
out explicitly designating anyone as his khalïfah. He acted in this way

because he knew that among the believers there would appear some-
one who would receive 'vicegerency' directly from his Lord and

thereby become a 'vicegerent of God', while conforming himself
perfectly to the given Law ( established by the Apostle).
One of the key-terms of Ibn 'Arabï' s theory of walayah is the' Seal'
(khatam), meaning the ultimate and final unit of a series. 1 should
like to close this chapter by a brief consideration of this concept,
although the problems it raises mostly go far beyond the scope of
the present book which aims at elucidating the ontological structure of
Ibn' Arabï's world-view.
The term khàtam appears in two phrases: ( 1) the Seal of the

Prophets (khàtam al-anbiyà') or Seal of the Apostles (khàtam al-
rusul), and (2) the Seal of the Saints (khàtam al-awliyà'). In conformity

with the commonly-accepted usage in Islam, the first phrase 'Seal of
the Prophets' designates the Prophet Mub.ammad himself. The phrase
in itself has nothing original aboutit; it is an expression often used in
accordance with the common belief in Islam that the Prophet
Mub.ammad represents historically the last ring of a long chain of
Prophets, there being absolutely no possibility of an authentic Prophet
appearing after him.

270 Sufism and Taoism
By the second phrase: 'the seal of the Saints', which is naturally more
problematic, Ibn 'Arabi means most probably himself, at least as long
as the present world lasts,23 although he does not say so explicitly in the
As Affifi points out,24 Ibn 'Arabi, besides hinting at the idea in
man y places of his writings by ambiguous expressions as, for example,
'the Seal of the Mul)ammadan saintship ( waliiyah mulJ,ammadiyah) is a
man of noble Arab birth, living in our own time' etc., declares in one
passage of the FutulJ,iit al-Makkiyyah: '1 am the Seal of the saintship, no
doubt, (the Seal of) the heritage of the Hashimite (Mul)ammad) and
the Messiah'.
But whether or not Ibn' Arabï really means by the Seal himself,
the problem is merely of a peripheral significance to us. For the
specific purposes of the present work, what is important is the
concept of Seal itself.

The problem turns round the ultimate source of the highest know-
ledge peculiar to the class of the highest 'knowers'.

This (highest) knowledge properly belongs only to the Seal of the
Apostles and the Seal of the Saints. No one of the Prophets and
Apostles obtains this knowledge except from the sacred niche of the
Last Apostle,25 and no one of the Saints obtains it except from the
niche of the Last Saint. 26
The last sentence might suggest the wrong idea that Ibn 'Arabï is
speaking here of two different 'niches'. In truth, however, there is

only one ultimate 'niche' from which ail obtain the highest know-
ledge. For, as al-Qâshânï says,27 if ail the Apostles obtain it from the

Seal of the Apostles, the latter obtains it from his own innermost
'niche', in the very capacity of the Seal of the Saints,28 so that all the
Apostles and the Saints ultimately obtain their Light from the Seal
of the Saints.
As to the relative superiority between the Seal of the Apostles
and the Seal of the Saints, Ibn' Arabi gives his view as follows: 29
It is true that the Seal of the Saints follows externally what the Seal of

the Apostles has established, namely, the Sacred Law. This, how-
ever, does not minimize in any way the spiritual rank of the Seal of

the Saints. Nor does this contradict what I have said above ( concern-
ing ail Apostles obtaining their esoteric knowledge from the 'niche'

of the Seal of the Saints). For (it simply means that) the Seal of the
Saints is in a certain respect lower in rank (than the Seal of the
Apostles) but is higher in another respect.
This interpretation is confirmed by what actually took place in our
religion, namely, by the fact, (for instance) that 'Umar proved to be
superior (to Mul)ammad) in his decision about the right treatment of
the prisoners of Badr and also regarding the fertilization of the
date-palm. A 'perfect' man need not be superior to others in every

Apostle, Prophet, and Saint 271
matter and in every respect. What the (spiritual persans) consider
important is superiority in terms of knowledge about God. That only
is the central point. As for worldly affairs, they are of no importance
at all in the minds (of spiritual persons).
In connection with the problem of the relation between the Seal
of the Saints and the Seal of the Apostles, Ibn 'Arabï refers to a
famous Tradition in which Mul;lammad compares himself to the one

last brick that finishes and completes an entire wall. Then he corre-
lates this Tradition with a vision he had at Mecca in the year 599

A.H.
In this vision Ibn' Arabï saw the Ka' bah, the House of God. The
Ka' bah was built of gold and silver brick ('sil ver brick' being a
symbol of the Prophet, and 'gold brick' of the Saint). The wall of the
Ka' bah as he saw it still lacked two final pieces of brick, one gold and
another silver. Ibn 'Arabï, in the dream, keenly felt that the two
missing bricks were no other than himself. And the construction of
the Ka'bah was brought to completion when he filled the place of
these two bricks.
The Prophet (Mul)ammad) once compared the 'prophethood' to a
wall made of brick which was complete except in one place which was
to be filled by a piece of brick. Mul)ammad himself was that brick.
The important point is that he saw, as he says (in this Tradition), only
one single piece of brick still missing.
As for the Seal of the Saints, he would surely have visions of a similar
nature; he would surely see what the Prophet symbolized by a wall.
(The only difference would, however, be that) he would see in the
wall two bricks still missing, the entire wall being built of gold and
silver bricks. And he would notice that the two bricks that were
lacking in the wall were one gold and the other sil ver. Further, he
would surely see in the vision himself just fit to be put into the place of
these two bricks. Thus he would see that what was meant by the two
bricks completing the wall was no other than the Seal of the Saints.
The reason why he must necessarily see himself as two bricks is as
follows. He is, externally, a follower of the Law established by the
Seal of the Apostles. This fact was (symbolized in the vision by) the
place for the silver brick. But this is only the 'external' side of the Seal
of the Saints, concerning as it does only the legal regulations about
which he simply follows the Seal of the Apostles. But, on the other
hand, in his innermost heart, he obtains directly from God that very
thing in which externally he is a simple follower (of the Seal of the
Apostles).
All this because he sees the state of affairs as it really is. So he cannot
but see the matter in this way. And in this capacity he corresponds,

internally, to the place for the gold brick, for he obtains his know-
ledge from the same source from which the angel (Gabriel) obtains

that which he conveys to the Apostle.

272 Sufism and Taoism
If you have understood what 1 have here indicated metaphorically
you have obtained an extremely valuable knowledge about everything.
Thus every Prophet, (in the long historical chain of 'prophethood')
beginning with Adam and ending with the last Prophet, invariably
obtained his (prophetic Light) from the 'niche' of the Sea! of the
Prophets, although the corporeal existence of the latter was posterior
to others. This because MuJ:rnmmad, in his Reality ,30 was existent
(from eternity). To this refer his words (in a Tradition): 'I was a
Prophet even while Adam was still between water and clay' .31
On the implication of this passage al-Qâshâni makes an interesting
remark. 32 Ibn 'Arabi' s description might be taken to imply the
superiority of the Seal of the Saints to the Prophet Mubammad,
because the position of the latter is symbolized only by one brick,
whereas that of the Seal of the Saints is symbolized by two bricks,

one of silver as the sign of his 'external' subordination to Mubam-
mad, and the other of brilliant gold as the sign of his own Light.

Against this understanding al-Qâshâni warns the reader and points
out that, according to the Tradition in question, the Ka'bah had
lacked one single piece of brick, and that when Mubammad filled
the place the building was completed. This means, he says, that
Mubammad was de facto the Seal of the Saints. Except that
Mubammad himself appeared only as a Prophet-Apostle, and did
what he did only in that capacity, not in the capacity of a Saint. He
did not, in other words, manifest the form of waliiyah.
The vision which Ibn 'Arabi saw in Mecca was formed in the
world of Imagination on the basis of this historical fact. Mubammad
was de facto the Seal of the Saints, but since he did not manifest
himself as such, there still remained the necessity for another persan
to appear as a historical phenomenon in the capacity of the Seal of
the Saints. Otherwise expressed, the 'saintships', with Mubammad,
remained to the last 'interior'. This 'interior', i.e., hidden, 'saintship'
has corne to light only with the appearance of the Seal of the Saints.
Regarding the difference between the Seal of the Saints and the

rest of the Saints, Ibn' Arabi remarks that in the former the 'saint-
ship' is something essential while in the latter it is something that

must be 'acquired' first. And this is the reason why ( according to
al-Qâshâni) 33 the 'saintship' of the former is called 'solar saintship'

(waliiyah shamsiyah) while that of the latter is called 'lunar saint-
ship' ( waliiyah qamariyah).

Notes
1. In this book I use provisionally the words 'saint' and 'saintship' as the English
equivalents of waliy and walâyah respectively. Whether the meaning of the Arabie
word waliy is covered by the English word 'saint' is another question.

Apostle, Prophet, and Saint 273
2. Fu$., pp. 160-169/135-136.
3. Fu$., p. 168/135. See for example the Qoran (II, 257) where we read: 'God is the
waliy (close, protecting Friend) of those who believe'.
4. Fu$., p. 167/135.
5. Cf. also FU$., p. 34/62.
6. FU$., p. 167/135.
7. The concrete content of such a knowledge is precisely what we have analytically
discussed throughout the preceding pages.
8. FU$., pp. 168-169/136.
9. p. 168.
10. ibid.
11. p. 169.
12. FU$., p. 89/88.
13. FU$., p. 34/62.
14. FuL p. 169/136.
15. Fu$., p. 168/135-136.
16. Fu$., p. 162/132.
17. Fu$., p.259/207.
18. Cf. Chapter XIV, (IV).
19. The English word Caliph is itself nothing but an Anglicized form of khalïfah.
20. Fu$., p. 204/162-163.
21. The reference is to the eschatological figure of Jesus. According to the Muslim
belief, Jesus will descend from Heaven once again at the end of the present world,
and will govern the world by the Sacred Law of Islam. In that state, Jesus will be
formally a 'vicegerent' of Mul)ammad, while deriving his knowledge from the same
source from which Mul)ammad received his Law. Jesus will be, in that state, the Seal
of the Saints.
22. 'Specially privileged', because he is conscious of the fact that he has received

directly from Godan inner Law by which he governs the community, but 'conform-
ing', at the same time, because outwardly he owes his Law to his predecessors.

23. 1 say 'at least as long as the present world lasts' because, as we saw above (cf.
note 21), at the very end of the present world, in the eschatological situation, Jesus
will corne down to the earth and assume the function of the Seal of the Saints. This
latter is called the 'general saintship' (walâyah 'âmmah) as distinguished from the

274 Suftsm and Taoism
'Mul)ammadan saintship' (waliiyah mulJ,ammadïyah). Regarding this distinction, see
the relevant passages quoted from the Futû/:tiit by Dr Osman Yahya in his edition of
al-Tirmidhï: Khatm al-Awliyii, Beyrouth, 1965, p. 161, Footnote 53.
24. Philosophy, pp. 100-101.
25. 'Niche' (miskhiit) symbolizes the Divine Light in the deepest core of the saintly
heart; the Divine Light is nothing other than the 'Reality of Mul)ammad'.
26. p. 34/62.
27. p. 34.
28. We have observed above that by the 'Sea! of the Saints' Ibn 'Arabi means
himself. But here al-Qâshâni seems to be saying that the Sea! of the Apostles, i.e.,
Mul)ammad, was also the Sea! of the Saints. This, however, is nota contradiction. As
we noticed before in discussing the 'Reality of Mul)ammad', in the consciousness of
Ibn 'Arabi, 'Mul)ammad' is not only a historical individual person but a cosmic
principle of creation, and the two aspects seem to be constantly present in bis mind
when he speaks about 'Mul)ammad'.
29. pp. 34-35/62-63.
30. Reference to the above-mentioned 'Reality of Mul)ammad'.
31. p. 35/63.
32. p. 36.
33. ibid.




Toshihiko Izutsu Sufism And Taoism P1.Ch15XV The Perfect Man as an Individual

 SUFISM AND TAOISM: A Comparative Study of Key Philosophical Concepts

by Toshihiko Izutsu 1983

First published 1983 by Iwanami Shoten, Publishers, Tokyo
This edition is published by The University of California Press, 1984,
Rev. ed. of: A comparative study of the key philosophical concepts in Sufism and Taoism. 1966-67.

=====

Contents

Preface by T. Izutsu
Introduction

Part I - Ibn 'Arabi
1 Dream and Reality
II The Absolute in its Absoluteness
III The Self-knowledge of Man
IV Metaphysical Unification and Phenomenal Dispersion
V Metaphysical Perplexity
VI The Shadow of the Absolute
VII The Divine Nam es
VIII Allah and the Lord
IX Ontological Mercy
X The Water of Life
XI The Self-manifestation of the Absolute
XII Permanent Archetypes
XIII Creation
XIV Man as Microcosm
XV The Perfect Man as an Individual
XVI Apostle, Prophet, and Saint
XVII The Magical Power of the Perfect Man

Part II - Lao-Tzii & Chuang-Tzu

I Lao-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu
II From Mythopoiesis to Metaphysics
III Dream and Reality
IV Beyond This and That
V The Birth of a New Ego
VI Against Essentialism
VII The Way
VIII The Gateway of Myriad Wonders
IX Determinism and Freedom
X Absolute Reversai of Values
XI The Perfect Man
XII Homo Politicus

Part III - A Comparative Reftection 

I Methodological Preliminaries
II The Inner Transformation of Man
III The Multistratified Structure of Reality
IV Essence and Existence
V The Self-evolvement of Existence
===

XV The Perfect Man as an lndividual

At the outset of the preceding chapter 1 pointed out that Man, in the
thought of Ibn' Arabi, is conceived on two different levels, cosmic
and individual. The present chapter will be concemed with the
second of these two levels.
Man on the first level, or - logically - Man as a species, is in the
intermediary stage between the Absolute and the world, and, as an
intermediary, occupies the highest position in the hierarchy of the

created beings. As soon as we begin to consider Man on the indi-
vidual level, however, we cannot help noticing the existence of

many degrees (mariitib ). Otherwise expressed, on the cosmic level
Man himself is the Perfect Man, but on the individual level not all
men are 'perfect'; on the contrary, only a few deserve the title of the
Perfect Man.
How is it possible that a such a fondamental difference should
occur between the two levels? Any man, as long as he is a 'man', is
expected to have the 'comprehensiveness' actualized in him,
because the ontological 'comprehensiveness' belongs to the very
nature of the human species. There can be no possible exception in
this respect. Ontologically, there can be no difference in this respect
between one individual and another. All this is certainly true. But

individual differences arise in accordance with the degrees of lucid-
ity in the mind of those who become conscious of this very fact. All

men are naturally endowed with the same ontological 'comprehen-
siveness' but not all men are equally conscious of the 'comprehen-
siveness' in themselves. They are variously conscious of it, ranging

from the highest degree of lucidity which cornes very close to that of
the Divine Consciousness of the Names and Attributes, down to the
lowest which is practically the same as complete opaqueness. And
only at the highest degree of lucidity can the human mind play the
role of a 'polished mirror'. Only at the highest degree of lucidity can
Man be the Perfect Man. This is the gist of the whole problem.
In a passage of the Ibn 'Arabi writes: 'God has brought to
light their various degrees in him (i.e., Adam)' .1 Here the pronoun

11ll 1

248 Sufism and Taoism
'their' refers to the sons of Adam. Thus the meaning of this short
sentence may be paraphrased as: 'God bas made clear the existence
of various degrees among men within Adam, i.e., the same one
species of Man'.
The cause which brings into being such degrees among individual
men is explained by Ibn 'Arabi through the metaphor of colored
glass, a metaphor which we have met in an earlier context. Just as
one and the same light is variously colored as it passes through
pieces of glass of various colors, the same Form of the Absolute is
differently manifested in different men with different capacities. 2

A man who has 'actualized in himself the Absolute' (al-
mutaljaqqiq bi-al-l}aqq) is completely permeated by the Absolu te,

so much so that each of his bodily members is a self-manifestation of
the Absolute. And yet, when such men - the people of God (ahl
Allàh) - obtain knowledge by 'immediate tasting', one and the same
knowledge becomes variously inflected according to the capacities
of individual organs.
Know that all mystical knowledges which, originating from the
ontological level of the Name Allah, are actualized in the people of
God, differ from each other according to the differences in the
cognitive faculties through which they are actualized, although all
these knowledges are derived ultimately from one source. This last

point is proved by the fact that God Himself declares (in a well-
known Tradition): 'I am his hearing with which he hears, his sight

with which he sees, his hand with which he seizes, his foot with which
he walks', God declares in this way that His He-ness (huwiyah) is
the very bodily members, which, in their turn, are the man himself.
The He-ness is one, and the bodily members (of the man in whom the
He-ness is actualized) are diverse. And each of his bodily members
has a special knowledge by 'immediate tasting' which is peculiar toit
and which is derived from the unique source (from which ail the other
bodily members obtain their peculiar knowledges). Thus (the same
knowledge coming from one source) becomes differentiated by the
different bodily members. 3
In the passage just quoted, Ibn' Arabi is speaking of the inflection of
one and the same intuitive cognition in one and the same man
through his different bodily members. He is not talking about
differences in intuition among different 'men of God'. He describes
here simply how one knowledge coming from one source becomes
differently modulated in one man according to which of bis faculties
is used. But if in one and the same man the situation is like that, it is
naturally to be expected that even greater differences should arise

in different individuals. In bis commentary on this passage, al-
Qàshani understands it in this sense and says: 4

The Perfect Man as an lndividual 249

Knowledges by 'immediate tasting' are differentiated by the differ-
ence of natural capacities (lit. 'preparedness'), because the 'people of

God' do not all stand on one level. And this causes a difference in
their 'tasting' experiences and (the resulting) knowledges ... just as

one and the same person obtains different knowledges through dif-
ferent faculties. Differences arise (in both cases) in spite of the fact

that all these knowledges go back to one single source, which is the
He-ness of the Absolute.
Ibn 'Arabï himself explains this phenomenon by comparing it to
water which may have different tastes despite the oneness of its
reality.

This may be understood by the example of water. Water is every-
where one single reality, but it has different tas tes according to

places. Here it is sweet, there it is salty and bitter. And yet water is
water in all the states; its reality does not become different however
different its tastes may be.5
The above explanation gives the ontological cause from which all
differences and degrees occur among men. In addition to this, Ibn
'Arabi gives another, theological cause for the same phenomenon:
the 'jealousy' (ghayrah) of God.
The idea of God being 'jealous' (ghayür) goes back historically to

a very old Semitic conception of God. And it plays also a consider-
ably important part in Sufism.

Now 'jealousy' in reference to God is capable of being under-
stood in various meanings. God is 'jealous', for example, because

He does not like the secret between Him and His servants be
disclosed to others. Or God is 'jealous' in the sense that He forbids
that anything other than Himself be adored and worshipped. Ibn
'Arabi understands the idea of Divine 'jealousy' in terms of the
concept of 'self-manifestation' (tajallï).

The Absolute, he says, manifests itself endlessly; it freely dis-
closes and reveals its inner mysteries. And yet the Absolute is,

paradoxically enough, 'jealous' of its mysteries, in the sense that it
conceals them from the eyes of ordinary men. From this particular
point of view, Ibn 'Arabi goes even to the extent of calling the
Divine self-manifestations fawàl}ish (sg. fal}ishah meaning literally
'shameful thing' 'something scandalous or disgraceful'). Here he is

looking at the whole matter from, so to speak, the subjective view-
point of the Absolute itself. God's feeling, Ibn 'Arabi surmises,

would be that He should not have disclosed his secrets, that He
should rather have kept them forever hidden in Himself. On the
human level, it is always an act of shamelessness for man to disclose
to the eyes of the public what he should keep concealed.
Furthermore, Ibn' Arabi exercises here again bis favorite method

250 Sufism and Taoism
of thinking by phonetic associations, and connects the wordghayrah
(jealously) with ghayr ('other').
God admits that He has the Attribute of' jealousy' (ghayrah). It is out
of 'jealousy' that He 'has forbidden the shameful things (JawâfJ,ish)'
(V, 33).
But 'shameful' is only that which has been made openly manifest
(while in truth it should have been kept concealed.) Asto what is kept
within, it is 'shameful' only to those who can see it.6
The last sentence would seem to need a few explanatory words.

Here Ibn 'Arabi <livides the 'shameful things', i.e., the self-
manifestations of God, into two kinds. The first consists of those

things that are openly manifest to our senses, in the world of

concrete reality. The second refers to the 'inner' (batin) self-
manifestations of the Divine Essence in the form of the permanent

archetypes. These are not manifest to the eyes of ordinary people,
and in this respect they are not 'shameful'. And yet they are
nonetheless manifested forms, and as such are clearly visible to
those who have the proper eyes with which to perceive them. They
are, to that extent, equally 'shameful' .7
Thus God 'has forbidden the shameful things', that is, God has
forbidden the reality to be known openly; namely, the fact that He is
nothing other than the ( created) things. So He has concealed the
reality with the veil of 'jealousy' -'other-ness' (ghayrah). 8 And (the

'other') is yourself (i.e., your ego which is conscious of being some-
thing independent and different from the Absolute). (This connec-
tion between 'jealousy' and' other-ness' is natural) because ghayrah

cornes from ghayr.
As a result of this, the 'other' judges that this (particular act of)
hearing, for instance, is the hearing of such-and-such an individual
persan, while the 'knower' of the truth judges that the hearing (i.e.,
ail particular acts of hearing) is the very (act of) the Absolute. And
the same is true of ail human faculties and bodily organs.
Thus not everyone knows the Absolute (in the same degree). There
are superior men and inferior men, and a number of ranks are clearly
discernible among them. 9
The highest rank, according to Ibn 'Arabi, belongs to a man who
throws himself wholly into the act of (dhikr) - that
is, not only with his tongue and heart alone - and becomes internally
unified with the Absolute.
It must be kept in mind that 'remembrance' (dhikr), for Ibn
'Arabi, does not simply mean the act of remembering God with

one's tangue and heart; the word is rather synonymous with mysti-
cal 'self-annihilation' in God. The dhikr in this meaning is a spirituar

state in which a mystic concentrates ail his bodily and spiritual
powers on Godin such a way that his whole existence is united with

The Perfect Man as an Individual 251
God completely, without any residue. When a mystic attains to this

state, the distinction between the subject (who exercises the con-
centration of the mind) and the abject (upon which his mind is

concentrated) naturally disappears, and he experiences the immed-
iate tasting' of the essential unity with the Absolute. The ordinary

kind of dhikr which consists in merely 'remembering' the

Absolute with tongue or mind without a total existential involve-
ment of the person represents a lower degree of dhikr-experience.

When a dhikr of the highest rank actually occurs in a mystic, the
natural perfection of Man is completely realized, and he occupies a
position in the world higher than that of other creatures, including
even angels. Of course ail creatures manifest the glory of God each
according to its degree of dhikr, but it is only in Man that this
experience can be heightened to that of the essential unity with God.
The real value of the human existence which is ours is known only to
those who 'remember' Godin the proper way of 'remembering'. For
God is the intima te Companion (jalïs) of th ose who 'remember' Him,
and those who 'remember' Him do witness the Companion. As long

as a man who 'remembers' does not witness God who is his Compan-
ion, he is not 'remembering' (in the proper way).

The 'remembrance' of God (when it is real) runs through ail the parts
of a man, unlike the case in which a man 'remembers' only with his
tangue. For in the latter case, God happens to be only momentarily
the Companion of the tangue exclusively, so that the tangue alone
sees God while the man himself does not see Him by means of the
sight by which he is properly supposed to see.
You must understand (in the light of this explanation) the following
mystery concerning the 'remembrance' of those who are not serious
enough. Even in a man who is not serious enough, the (particular
bodily organ) which happens to be 'remembering' Him is doubtless in
the presence of God, and the abject of 'remembrance' (i.e., God) is
its Companion and it does witness Him. But the man himself, as long
as he lacks seriousness, is not exercising 'remembrance' (as he
should), and consequently God is not his Companion (in the real
sense).
Ali this cornes from the fact that man is 'many' (i.e., composed of

many parts); he is not one single (non-composite) reality. The Abso-
lute, on the contrary, is One in its essential reality although it is Many

in its Divine Names. But man is 'many' with his parts, so that, even if
one of his parts is engaged in 'remembrance', it does not necessarily

follow that other parts, too, are 'remembering'. The Absolute hap-
pens to be the Companion of that particular part of his which is

actually engaged in 'remembrance', but his other parts are being
negligent of 'remembrance' .10
Such being the case, it is naturally to be expected that there should
arise many degrees among men regarding the capacity for knowing
God and the mystery of Being. On the basis of this fact Ibn' Arabi

252 Sujism and Taoism
classifies men in several different ways, each classification having its
peculiar standard. 1 have already introduced some of them. Here 1
shall give three typical classifications.
The first classification <livides men into two categories: (1) those
whose minds have an otherworldly structure and (2) those whose
minds are of a worldly structure. The first category is represented by
a man who, pure of mind and heart, free from all bodily desires, can
see through things and grasp immediately the realities underlying
them. A man like this knows God by 'unveiling' and 'immediate
tasting', not by Reason. Of course, he, too, exercises his Reason
within its proper domain, but never pushes it beyond its natural
limits. Rather, he readily goes beyond the realm of Reason, and
follows the judgments given by mystical intuition. Such a man is a
'knower' ('arif) and a 'servant of the Lord' ('abd rabb).
The second category, on the contrary, is represented by a man

whose mind is deeply involved in bodily attachments, who is com-
pletely under the sway of desires, and who, consequently, cannot

see the reality of things. In trying to know God, such a man depends
exclusively upon Reason. He cannot step over the boundaries of
logical thinking. Even such a man may taste, on rare occasions,
something of the experience of' unveiling'. In su ch cases, his Reason
recognizes the fact that he is experiencing something unusual. But
this he knows only by Reason. So as soon as the experience ends, he
falls into confusion, and ends up by submitting himself to the
judgment of Reason. Such a man is nota 'servant of the Lord'; he is
rather a 'servant of reasoning' ('abd nazar).
lt must be noticed that Ibn' Arabi does not simply disparage and

deprecate Reason. lt has its own field in which to work prop-
erly. But it has its limitations. A real 'knower' is one who assigns to

Reason a proper place and restrains it from overstepping its
domain. The prophets and apostles are not people devoid of
Reason. On the contrary, they are pre-eminently men of Reason.
But they have a wider field at their command which lies beyond the
reach of Reason.
In fact, no one is more reasonable than the apostles. But (in addition
to Reason) they are (endowed with another capacity by which) they
bring informations directly from God.
Thus the apostles admit the authority of Reason ( within its proper
domain), but add toit something which Reason cannot grasp by its
own power, and which Reason rejects it at first; it is only in the Divine
self-manifestation (i.e., during the time in which the mind happens to
be actually experiencing it by 'unveiling') that it admits that it is true.
However, as soon as the experience of the Divine self-manifestation
leaves the mind, the latter falls into confusion concerning what it has

The Perfect Man as an lndividual 253
just seen. If the man in such a case happens to be a 'servant of the
Lord', he immediately subjugates his Reason to Him, but if the man
happens to be a 'servant of reasoning', he subjugates the truth to the
judgment of Reason.
This state or affairs, however, occurs only as long as the man remains
in the worldly dimension of existence, being veiled from the other
worldly dimensions (which is realized) in the very midst of the
present world.
Even the 'knowers' of the truth look in this world as if they were in a
form peculiar to the present world because of the earthly properties
appearing in them. In their 'interior', however, they have already
been transported by God to the state of being which is peculiar to the

Hereafter. There can be no doubt aboutit. So they are not recogniz-
able outwardly except to those whose spiritual eyes have been

opened by God to see through things. In reality, every true 'knower'
of God, (who knows God) through the experience of (His direct)
self-manifestation in himself, is actually living in a mode of being
peculiar to the Hereafter. Such a man has, already in the present
world, been resurrected from the dead and brought to life from his
tomb. So he sees what others cannot see and witnesses what others
cannot witness. This is a result of a special favor which God grants to
some of His servants. 11
The second classification which Ibn 'Arabi proposes consists in
dividing men into three type: (1) 'knower' ('ârif), (2) 'non-knower'
(ghayr 'arif) and (3) 'ignorant' (jâhil).
He defines 12 the first type as 'a man who sees the Absolute from
the Absolute, in the Absolute, and by the Absolute itself'. The
second, the 'non-knower', is 'a man who sees the Absolute from the
Absolute, in the Absolute, and by his own self'. The 'ignorant' is 'a
man who sees the Absolute neither from the Absolute nor in the
Absolu te, and who expects to see the Absolu te (in the Hereafter) by
his own self'.
The 'knower' is a man who completely identifies himself with
Godin very possible respect and sees God with God's own eyes
from the very viewpoint of God. Since he sees God with God's eyes,
all the self-manifestations of God are within his sight. He actually
witnesses the whole world of Being as it pulsates with Divine Life.
As to the 'non-knower', though he sees the Absolute in the
Absolute and from the viewpoint of the Absolute, the eye with
which he sees is his own. So the reality cannot but be deformed by
his sight.
The 'ignorant' is by no means in a.position to see the Absolute as
it really is. His mind is naturally restricted in an extreme degree.
Each 'ignorant' adores and worships God only in a form peculiar te
a particular religion which he happens to hold, and denies all othe:
forms of worshipping God.

111111
,:1111,

1111111

254 Sufism and Taoism
Generally speaking each man (i.e., of the class of the 'ignorant')
necessarily sticks to a particular religion ('aqïdah, i.e., religion as a
system of dogmas) concerning his Lord. He always goes back to his
Lord through his particular religious belief and seeks God therein.

Such a man positively recognizes God only when He manifests Him-
self to him in the form recognized by his traditional religion. But

when He manifests Himself in other religions, he ftatly refuses to
accept Him and runs away from Him. In so doing, he simply behaves

in an improper way towards God, while imagining that he is practis-
ing good manners toward Him. Thus a man who sticks to the belief of

his particular religion believes in a god according to what he has
subjectively posited in his mind. God in ail particular religions
(i'tiqâdât) is dependent upon the subjective act of positing (ja'l) on
the part of the believers. Thus a man of this kind sees (in the form of
God) only his own self and what he has posited in his mind. 13
The last paragraph of the passage just quoted discloses in a daring
and outspoken way Ibn' Arabï's fondamental position regarding the
etemal Religion and various historical religions. As we have
observed in an earlier context, 14 it is his unshakeable conviction that
ail religions are ultimately one because every religion worships the

Absolute in a very particular and limited way. Whatever one wor-
ships as God, one is worshipping through that particular form the

Absolute itself, nothing else, because there is nothing in the whole
world but particular self-manifestations of the Absolute.
In this connection, Ibn' Arabï draws our attention to a famous

Tradition that depicts one of the occurrences of the day or Resur-
rection. It reads: 'On the day of Resurrection, God will appear to

the creatures in a strange form and say, "1 am your Lord, the
Highest". The people will say, "No, we take refuge with God from
thee!" Then He will make Himself manifest in a form familiar to
them in their religions. Thereupon the people will cry out, "Glory
be to Thee, o God" '. Ibn 'Arabï observes that this is not only a
matter of the day of Resurrection, for exactly the same thing is
actually happening in the present world. 'Behold how the degrees of
men conceming their knowledge of God correspond exactly to their
degrees conceming the seeing of Godon the day of Resurrection'.
And he closes the passage by giving us the following waming and
advice:
Beware of being bound up by a particular religion and rejecting ail
others as unbelief! If you do that, you will fail to obtain a great
benefit. Nay, you will fail to obtain the true knowledge of the reality.
Try to make yourself a (kind of) Prime Matter for all forms of
religious belief. God is wider and greater than to be confined to one
particular religion to the exclusion of others. For He says: 'To
whichever direction you turn, there surely is the Face of God' (II,
115). God does not specify (in this verse) a particular place in which

The Perfect Man as an Individual 255
the Face of God is to be found. He only said: 'There is the Face of
God.'
The 'face' of a thing means its real essence. So God has admonished
by this verse the hearts of the 'knowers' so that they might not be
distracted by non-essential matters in the present world from being
constantly conscious of this kind of thing. For no human being ever
knows at which moment he will die. If a man happens to die at a
moment when he is forgetful of this, his position will certainly be not
equal to another who dies in the state of clear awareness. 15
The third classification of men which Ibn 'Arabï proposes is also a
tripartite division. According to this classification, the lowest degree

is represented by a man who relies upon Reason and who, there-
fore, is content with understanding both God and the world by

exercising his thinking power. The middle position is occupied by

men of 'imagination' (khayal), i.e., those who understand the Abso-
lu te according to the authentic imagery based on visions of

prophets. And the highest degree is of th ose who know the reality of
the things through the experience of 'unveiling' and 'immediate
tasting'.
Let us begin with the lowest class, that is, men of Reason. These
people blindly believe in Reason, do not recognize anything as truth
unless it is acceptable to Reason, and refuse to admit anything
which happens to be in conftict with Reason. They do not know that
Reason, in matters conceming the Absolute, is utterly powerless,
and that it can never go deep into the reality of Being. In various
passages of the Ibn' Arabï emphasizes the narrow limitations

and the essential powerlessness of Reason in contrast to the 'unveil-
ing' (kashf) which is for him the highest form of human cognition.

He sees in the Theologians (mutakallimün) a typical example of the
men of Reason.

As an illustration, he adduces a Qoranic verse: 'thou (Mu\lam-
mad) wert not the one who threw when thou threwest, but God it

was who really threw' 16 (VIII, 17). This verse, according to Ibn

'Arabï, is a most concise symbolic description of the essential rela-
tion between the Absolute and the world. The verse begins by

negating that Mu\lammad 'threw'. Then it affirms that he did throw
- 'when thou threwest' - and finally Mu\lammad's having thrown is
again negated, and the verse ends by establishing that the real
thrower was God Himself. All this is reducible to the proposition:
'the real thrower is God, but it is Godïn the phenomenal form of
Mu\lammad'. The verse, thus understood, expresses nothing other
than the truth about the self-manifestation of the Absolute.
However, only a real 'knower' is capable of interpreting the verse
in this sense. As for the Theologians, its true meaning is completely
out of their reach. In confusion they interpret it arbitrarily

256 Sufism and Taoism

according to the dictates of their Reason. As a result, their conclu-
sion clashes with that of' immediate tasting'. And in most cases they

go to the extreme of declaring impossible and absurd what mystical
intuition recognizes as true.
This and similar verses can be rightly understood only by those
who are possessed of an infini tel y flexible mind. On the basis of this
single verse one can say, 'it was Mul;iammad who threw', just as one
can say, 'it was not Mul;iammad who threw'. Likewise, one can say,
'it was God who threw', just as one can say, 'it was Mul;iammad who
threw, not God'. The verse, in this way, is liable to produce various
statements that seemingly contradict each other. For, after all, the
question is one of different relations and viewpoints. One and the
same event can be looked at variously according to various possible
viewpoints. And yet all this variation takes place within the

infinitely wide Reality which comprises everything and every poss-
ible viewpoint. All are ultimately the activity of the Absolute. But

Reason which by nature is one-sided, rigid, and inflexible, cannot
accept such a view.

As another good example aptly illustrating the natural and essen-
tial deficiency of Reason, Ibn 'Arabï considers the problem of the

relation between 'cause' and 'caused'. The Theologians and
Philosophers, who try to understand everything in the light of what
Reason tells them, often discuss the concept of' cause' ('il/ah). The
reality of 'cause', however, can never be revealed to their minds as
long as they remain so utterly dependent upon logical thinking.
As an illustration disclosing the natural weakness of Reason in its
reasoning activity we may mention the judgment given by Reason
concerning 'cause': that a 'cause' cannot be the 'caused' of that of
which it is the 'cause'. This is evidently what Reason judges. But in
the light of knowledge obtained by mystical illumination, we must
assert precisely this proposition (which is rejected by Reason);
namely, that a 'cause' does become the 'caused' of that of which it is
the 'cause' .17
The judgment given by Reason can be made (more) correct through
theoretical elaboration within the boundaries of logical thinking.
But, even so, the ultimate limit to which Reason can go, when it is
actually faced with a state of affairs which contradicts the evidence
furnished by logical proof, is to think that - admitting the essential
unity of Reality through all the multifarious forms of things in the
world-(this unique Reality), in so far as it actually and positively acts
as a 'cause' in the form of some concrete thing (A, for example) and
causes some other concrete thing (B), it can never be the 'caused' of
that very thing (B) which it (A) has caused as long as it is the 'cause'.
The truth of the matter, Reason will think, is rather that, as the
Reality changes its form (fromA to C, for example, and enters into a
different relationship with B), its capacity may also change in such a

The Perfect Man as an Individual 257
way that it (now in the form of C) could very well be the 'caused' of
what (B) it has caused (in the capacity of A), so that, as a result, the
'caused' may become the 'cause' of its own 'cause'. This, 1 say, is the
furthest limit to which Reason can go even when it perceives the
reality (of Being, by perceiving one single Essence underlying all the
things and events that stand in 'cause' -'caused' relations), and steps
beyond the proper domain of logical reasoning. 18
The latter half of this passage may be explicated as follows. Properly
speaking, Reason has a very narrowly limited domain of its own. As
long as it remains within the strict limits of this domain, Reason
cannot even see that everything is but a different self-manifestation
of one single Reality, the Absolute. But if Reason does stretch itself
forcibly to the furthest possible limit and goes beyond the domain of
its natural capacity, it will be able to see that the Many in the
possible world are ultimately so many different forms of one and the
same Reality. Of course, such a cognition itself goes against the
judgment of Reason in its normal activity. But at least this mu ch
may be conceded by it if it succeeds in extending its capacity in the
way just described.
Reason, once it has admitted that the Many, i.e., all things and
events in the world of concrete reality, are ultimately One and are
but so many phenomenal forms assumed by one single Reality, must
necessarily admit also that the distinction usually made between
'cause' and 'caused' is merely a relative matter, because bath are
two different forms assumed by one and the same thing. And in this
particular sense, Reason will have to admit that a 'cause' can be a
'caused'.
However, even at this stage, Reason is limited by its own logic. lt
will still assert that so long as a certain concrete thing (A) actually is
the 'cause' of another concrete thing (B), A remains a 'cause', and
will never be a 'caused' of B. A, in the capacity of B's 'cause', can
never be a 'caused' of B .A can rightly be a 'caused' of B only when it
is considered from a different angle in a different capacity, i.e., no
longer exactly as A but rather as something different,. C.
Thus it is the final judgment of Reason, even at its unusually
extended limit, that a 'cause', unless it be considered in terms of a
different relationship, cannot be caused by its own 'caused'. This is
the self-evident and primary truth of reason which it can never
abandon as long as Reason remains Reason.
However, if we look at the matter in the light of the intuition

gained by the experience of 'immediate tasting', we find immedi-
ately that a 'cause' can possibly be a 'caused', just as a 'caused' can

possibly be a 'cause'.
It is worthy of notice that the thought pattern that underlies this
conception is very characteristic of Ibn 'Arabï; we have already met

258 Suftsm and Taoism
with it in the preceding in various forms. The idea, for example, that

the creatures are 'food' of God, just as God is 'food' of the crea-
tures, or the idea of the mutual taskhir between God and the

creatures, namely, that the creatures make God 'subservient' to
themselves, just as God makes the creatures 'subservient' to Him -
these and similar 'daring' ideas are structurally of the same category
as that of the mutual causal relationship between God and the
creatures.
How, then, can a 'caused' act positively upon its own 'cause' in
such a way that it makes the latter its own 'caused'? The answer runs

as follows. 'The 'cause-ness' ('illïyah) of a 'cause' ('illah) is incon-
ceivable without the 'caused-ness' (ma'lülïyah) of the 'caused'

(ma'lül), nor can the first actually exist without the latter. The
'cause-ness' completely depends upon the 'caused-ness' of the
'caused'. 'Cause', in this sense, contains in itself 'caused-ness', just
as 'caused' contains 'cause-ness'. Moreover, all things, in Ibn
'Arabi's view, are but different phenomenal forms of one single
Existence. So everything is in one aspect 'cause', and in another
'caused'.

Representing the people of 'immediate tasting', al-Qashani for-
mulates the right answer in the following terms: 19

The one single Reality appearing in two different forms (i.e., 'cause'
and' caused') is apt to receive the two qualifications according to ( our
subjective) points of view. That is to say, it has, when it is in the state
of being a 'cause', the aptitude to be a 'caused', and when it is in the
state of being a 'caused', it has the aptitude to be a 'cause'. For the

one Reality comprehends in itself both 'cause-ness' and 'caused-
ness' with ail the properties peculiar to both. Thus one and the same

thing is a 'cause' in its 'cause-ness', and a 'caused' in its 'caused-ness'.
It has in itself all these and similar aspects (which i.t manifests)
according to particular circumstances.

Exactly the same holds true of the phenomenon of the self-
manifestation. For (such distinctions as) the 'self-manifester', the

locus of self-manifestation, the act of self-manifestation, the being of
the self-manifester a self-manifester and the being of the locus a
locus, etc. ( - ail these are simply [reftections of our] subjective
viewpoints.) In reality they are nothing other than the Absolu te
which is essentially One and which appears in these various capacities

according to our subjective perspectives. These are all notions con-
ceived by our discriminating Reason, the distinctions existing only in

our Reason. They are ail matters of relative forms, supposed rela-
tions secondarily derived from the one single Reality. This Reality is

God, the One and the Unique. There is nothing in Being except God!
If we have gone into a considerably long digression on the problem
of the 'cause' - 'caused' relationship, it is partly because of its
intrinsic value as a theory of causality typical of Ibn 'Arabi. The

The Perfect Man as an Individual 259
main purpose, however, has been to give an illustration showing the
natural incapability of Reason to reach any deep truth about the
Absolute and the world of Being.
'He who knows himself (lit. 'his soul') knows his Lord' - this
famous Tradition is one of Ibn' Arabi' s favorite adages. Here again
he refers to it and declares that there has not been even a single
person, among the Philosophers and Theologians, who has grasped
his own 'self' (soul) in its real depth.
Of ail the men of knowledge no one has obtained a real insight into
the 'soul' and its reality except the divinely inspired Apostles and
great Sufis. Asto the men of reasoning and logical thinking, whether
the ancient Philosophers or the Theologians in Islam, not even one of
them has hit upon the truth in their discussions on 'soul' and its
quiddity. (This is but natural because) logical thinking can never
arrive at the truth in this matter. Therefore, he who seeks the true
knowledge of 'soul' by means of thinking is like a person who,
looking at a man with a tumor, thinks him to be fat, or like a person
who blows upon something which is not fuel.
People of this kind are precisely 'those whose effort goes astray in the
present world, being convinced that they are doing good work'
(XVIII, 14). For he who seeks anything by a wrong method is sure to
fail in achieving his aim. 20
Between the real 'knowers' and the men of Reason are situated the

people of Imagination (khayâl). These are men who try with sincer-
ity to approach the Absolute by the aid of the images given by their

Prophet and Apostle. Concerning the above-quoted Qoranic verse
about the 'one who threw', for example, the men of this kind believe
firmly that the true 'thrower' is God Himself, although the deep
meaning of the verse escapes their understanding. They readily
accept as true whatever their Prophet teaches them, and do not dare
to be critical of anything which they think contradicts Reason. Ibn
'Arabi calls these men 'people of Belief (or Faith)' (ah! al-ïmân).

The 'people of Belief are those who accept unquestioningly what-
ever the Prophets and Apostles convey from the Absolute. They

should not be confused with those who accept unquestioningly the
teaching of the (Philosophers and Theologians) who think by Reason
and who are not content unless they interpret any message (i.e.,
Qoranic verse or prophetic Tradition) that is transmitted to them in
the light of logical evidences.
To these people (of Belief) refers the Qoranic expression: 'or he who
lends his ear' (L, 37) to the Divine messages as they are conveyed
through the tongues of the Prophets. And such a man, i.e., a man who
tends his ear in this way, 'is a witness' (L, 37). God here refers to the
ontological dimension of Imagination and the proper use of the
faculty of Imagination. And this corresponds to the saying of the
Prophet (Muf)ammad) on the 'perfection of Belief'

260 Sufism and Taoism
(il;san ): ' 21 ••• that you worship Godas if you saw Him'. God is always
in the direction toward which man prays. This is why such a man is a
witness. 22
'Being a witness (shahid)' in this passage means, in Ibn Arabi's
interpretation, the spiritual state in which a man 'witnesses', i.e., is
present by his heart to the ontological plane of Imagination. lt is a
state at which the heart of a 'knower' perceives in sensible imagery
some of the things that properly belong to the world of the Unseen.
The heart of a' knower', when he reaches this stage, finds itself in the
world of Imagination and begins to witness in images various states
of affairs of the invisible world.
lt is worthy of notice that toward the end of the passage just
quoted, Ibn 'Arabi, referring to the famous Tradition about il)siin,
draws attention to the expression: ' ... that you worship Him as if
you saw Him'. In Ibn 'Arabi's interpretation, this describes the
lowest and weakest degree of the 'witnessing' here in question. lt is
the lowest degree of the mental presence in the ontological plane of
Imagination, for it is said: 'as if you saw Him'. As the very wording
of this phrase indicates, man is notas yet actually seeing God. There
is as yet no actual vision. Man only acts as if he had a real vision.
But when the heart of the 'knower' becomes strengthened and
mounts a step higher, the object of the 'witnessing' becomes visible
to the internai, spiritual eye (ba$irah), though as yet no vision occurs
to his physical eye. 23
As the 'knower' goes up to the next degree, the object becomes
visible to both his physical eye and his spiritual eye. And if he still
goes up and reaches finally the ultimate and highest stage, the one
who 'witnesses' and the object 'witnessed' become completely
unified. At this stage it is no longer the human heart that 'witnesses'
its object; but it is the Absolute itself 'witnessing' itself in itself. And
this is the stage of the 'saint' (waliy).
Thus when a man 'wakes up', and rises to the highest degree of
'saintship', he begins to witness an extraordinary phenomenon, for
his spiritual eye is now open to the reality of what we have described
earlier under the title of 'new creation'.
In the eye of a real 'knower', the Absolute (in whatever form it may
appear) remains always the 'recognized' one which is never denied. 24
The people who recognized the same Absolu te un der ail phenomenal
forms in the present world will do exactly the same in the Hereafter,
too.
This is why God ( speaking of a man of this kind) says 'for whomever
has a heart (qalb)' (L, 37). For (such a man) knows the constant
changing of the Absolute in various forms; he knows this judging by

The Perfect Man as an Individual 261
the fact that his 'heart' is constantly changing from one form to
another. 25

Thus such a man cornes to know his .own 'self' through (the know-
ledge of the constant transformation of) himself. (And from this he

obtains the real knowledge about the Absolute, for) his own 'self' is
nothing other than the He-ness of the Absolute, (and his knowledge
thus obtained is easily extended to everything because) everything in
the world of Being, whether present or future, is nothing other than
the He-ness of the Absolute; indeed, everything is the He-ness
itself. 26
A real 'knower' who knows his 'heart' (qalb) sees with his own inner

eye how it changes constantly and transforms-itself (qalb or taqal-
lub) at every moment in a myriad of modes and states. He knows at

the same time that his 'heart' is but a self-manifestion of the Abso-
lute, and that it is nothing other than the He-ness of the Absolute.

Of course his 'heart' is the only thing in the whole world whose inner
structure he can know through introspection. But he is well aware
also that all other things must be exactly of the same structure as his
'heart'. Thus a man who knows his own 'heart' from inside knows
also the Absolute as it goes on transforming itself moment after
moment in all the possible forms of the world.
The category to which such a 'knower' belongs constitutes the
highest degree on the scale of humanity. The subject of the next
chapter will be this highest category of men.

Notes
1. FU'f., p. 26/56.
2. FU'f ., p. 118/114. The whole passage has been given in translation in Chapter IV.
3. FU'f., pp. 125-126/107.
4. p. 126.
5. FU!i., p. 126/107.
6. FU'f., p. 130/109-110.
7. Cf. Affifi, FU'f., Corn., p. 126.
8. As I have remarked above, the word ghayrah meaning 'jealousy' is, in the
linguistic consciousness of Ibn' Arabi, directly connected with ghayr meaning 'other'.
So the sentence: 'God covered or concealed the reality with ghayrah' not only means
that He concealed it with 'jealousy', but at the same time that He has concealed the
reality by an infinite number of particular 'determinations', ail of which are regarded
as 'other' than God Himself, so that in this view everything appears as something

1111
: 11:
1111
I'

1
1
11.J
!I

262 Sufism and Taoism
'other' than the rest of the things as well as' other' than the Absolute. And the view of
'other-ness' covers the reality of Being and hinders it from being perceived by the
eyes of ordinary people.
9. Fu$., p. 130/110.
10. FIJ-î., p. 211/168-169.
11. FU$., pp. 234-235/185-186.
12. FIJ-î., pp. 135-136/113.
13. ibid.
14. Cf. Chapter V, where the same idea is dealt with in connection with a different
problem, that of 'metaphysical perplexity'.
15. FU$., p. 136/113.
16. Wa-mâ rama y ta idh rama y ta wa-lâkinna Allâha ramà.
17. Suppose Ais the 'cause' of B, for instance.Bis of course the 'caused' of A. But
there is also a certain respect in which B must be regarded as the 'cause' of A. In this
latter respect, A would be the 'caused' of B.
18. FIJ-î., p. 233/185.
19. p. 234.
20. FU$., p. 153/125.
21. On the exact meaning of the word il]sân see my The Concept of Belief in Islamic
Theology, Tokyo, 1965, pp. 58-60.
22. FU$., p. 149/123.
23. Qàshànî, p. 150.
24 The reference is to the Tradition, which has been quoted and explained earlier in
the present chapter, concerning what will happen on the day of Resurrection.
25. By the 'etymological' way of thinking which, as we have observed several times,
is so typical of Ibn 'Arabî, he brings together the 'heart' (qalb) and 'change' or
'transformation' (qalb).
26. Fu$., p. 149/122.