Posted by on Apr 12, 2015 in Blog, Reflections | 7 comments

A number of brothers and sisters have requested more information in English on Shaykh Aḥmad Ibn Zayniddīn al-Aḥsāʾī. This post constitutes the first in a seven-part series of reflections on the life, influence, and philosophical foundations of the cosmology of Shaykh Aḥmad. This series is based mostly upon a chapter this author has written, in shāʾa Ãllāh to be published in an anthology on philosophy in Qajar Iran to be published by Brill (edited by Sabine Schmidtke and Reza Pourjavady).

Here is a breakdown of the seven parts of this series:

  1. Life, Travels, Character and Charisma
  2. Works: Opera Majora and Minora
  3. Legacy and Influence I: Students, Close Disciples, Licensees, and Other Contemporaries
  4.  Legacy and Influence II: Shaykhism
  5. Major Arcs in the Philosophy of Shaykh Aḥmad I: Preliminary Considerations
  6. Major Arcs in the Philosophy of Shaykh Aḥmad II: Objective Logic and Dialectics
  7. Major Arcs in the Philosophy of Shaykh Aḥmad III: Dialectical Metaphysics and the Project of Illuminationism.

Much of this series features new research and discoveries that will not be found published elsewhere in any language. In shāʾa Ãllāh the themes we will cover will be expanded into a full book on Shaykh Aḥmad. The footnote symbols in the main text are clickable, so you can easily navigate to the endnotes and back. There are still a couple of bugs in the xhtml sources so kindly bear with these until they are fixed. This reflection (including this preface) may not be in its final state and is subject to further editing. The references will be provided at the end of the final installment of this series, in shāʾa Ãllāh.

Your comments, reflections, and suggestions are most welcome. Enjoy!

UPDATE (April 15, 2015): At the request of Brother AbuZaynab, the Arabic original of the two poems given by Imām Ḥasan (ʿA) to al-Awḥad has been posted.

UPDATE (April 19, 2015): Most xhtml bugs are now fixed, al-ḥamdu Lillāh.

Shaykh Aḥmad Ibn Zayniddīn al-Aḥsāʾī: Biography, Impact, and Philosophical Essay
1
Biography
1.1
Life and Travels
The Philosopher of the Era
(
Faylasūf al-ʿAṣr
),
1
more popularly known as
“the Most Unparalleled Shaykh”
(
al-Shaykh al-Awḥad
); Aḥmad the son of Zaynuddīn, was born in Rajab, 1166
hl
(in or near the month of May, 1753
ce
) in the village of al-Muṭayrafī of the then emirate of al-Aḥsāʾ, located towards the Eastern coast of the Arabian Peninsula. This region was adjacent to that of Baḥrayn, and is sometimes included by historical geographers as part of the latter.
2
The tribe into which Shaykh Aḥmad was born originally belonged to the ʿĀmmah; his family on his father’s side converted to Tashayyuʿ five generations earlier.
3
4
According to Shaykh Aḥmad’s testimony in his own spiritual autobiography (Aḥsāʾī 2009, Vol. 8, pp. 457–466),
5
al-Muṭayrafī in particular had become something of a backwoods, an oasis far removed from major population centers and largely devoid of significant scholars or resources for Islāmic learning.
Shaykh Aḥmad appears to have been gifted with a precocious memory; after recounting in detail a devastating flood that hit al-Aḥsāʾ when he was two years of age, he says that he remembers the event. As a boy, he was given to contemplation and reflection, even when playing with his friends. He especially meditated upon the ruins and historical monuments of past kingdoms of his region. He would contemplate the transitoriness that characterized the mighty rulers and kingdoms of times bygone and of the present, including the contemporary rulers of Aḥsāʾ; then he would cry as he reminisced of the former inhabitants of once flourishing cities. He was also perturbed by the general ignorance within his community of the laws and norms of Islām. He was impatient with their indulgence in merry- making and festivity, and disturbed by his own inclinations towards joining them.
After noticing an interest in grammar on the part of his son, Shaykh Zaynuddīn sent him to a nearby village to study with a local scholar. At some point during his studies there, young Aḥmad began having visions and dreams in which a young man would teach him the meanings of Qurʾānic
signs
(
ayāt
).
6
Then he began to visit strange worlds and climb over mystical mountains that no one else from amongst the masses could ascend. Finally, he saw three of the Twelve Imāms of Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
in a vision: the second
imām
al-Ḥasan ibn ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib 
(ʿa)
, the fourth
imām
ʿAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib 
(ʿa)
, and the fifth
imām
Muḥammad ibn ʿAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn 
(ʿa)
.
7
The high point of this vision is when Imām al-Ḥasan places his mouth over that of young Aḥmad, who is lying flat on his back, letting him taste the Imām’s saliva. Then the Imām places his hand on Aḥmad’s face, then his chest, sending a profound coolness through his heart.
8
After some conversation, young Aḥmad finally asked the Imām,
“My Master! Inform me of something such that, whenever I recite it, I can see you all.”
Then Imām Ḥasan 
(ʿa)
replied with the following hemistiches:
Become a shunner of your affairs;
Entrust all affairs to the Decision.
Thus tight spaces will often widen;
And open spaces will often get tight.
Often a matter which is tiresome
In its ends, for you there lies Riḍā
9
Allāh will do whatever He Wishes;
Become not one who interferes.
Allāh habituated you to the beautiful;
So do compare with what has passed.
10
Then the Imām 
(ʿa)
added the following:
A matter over which the
ego
(
nafs
) has tightened;
Often there comes to her [the ego] from Allāh relief.
Become not a despairer of the arrival of a breeze;
So often indeed are those impediments dispelled.
All the while a man is despondent in deathly illness;
Yet Allāh comes to him with a breeze and a relief.
For months young Aḥmad recited the two poems every night without result. Then he realized that the Imām meant for him to not merely repeat the verses, but to embody their inner meanings. So in the following months, young Aḥmad began focusing on the cultivation of
sincerity
(
ikhlāṣ
) in his devotions, increasing his recitation of the Qurʾān, spending late night to dawn in seeking forgiveness and in meditation, as well as deepening his contemplations on the world at large. The intensity of his visions increased until finally the gate of vision of Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
opened and he would see some of them most days and nights. Eventually he reached a point where he could see the Imāms 
(ʿa)
and the Prophet 
(ʿa)
almost at will, and ask difficult questions of them. He could even choose which of them he wanted to see and speak to. This continued for decades, he says, throughout his studies and scholarly career. At one point (around 1208
hl
/1794
ce
) he had a vision wherein the tenth
imām
ʿAlī ibn Muḥammad al-Hādī 
(ʿa)
passed him twelve
licenses
(
ijāzāt
), one
license
(
ijāzah
) from each
imām
.
11
Throughout his studies and researches, Shaykh Aḥmad did his utmost to maintain a low profile and to live as secluded a life as possible, despite the devotion of a growing number of admirers. Eventually, during his fateful journey to Iran, his fame reached a point where he could no longer live as secluded a life as he preferred, and involvement with
“the people”
became unavoidable. At that point, our Shaykh tells us, distraction from his
foreward presence
(
iqbāl
) led to the closure of that door that had been opened continuously for so long. Afterwards he continued to see members of the Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
, but only intermittently.
12
At age twenty, young Aḥmad went to the centers of the Shīʿī scholastic establishment, in southern Iraq to continue his studies. The holy cities of Najaf and Karbala, containing the graves of the first
imām
ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib and the third
imām
Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī respectively, were at that time under Ottoman rule, though semi-autonomous and under strong Iranian influence.
13
The chief figure of this establishment at the time of young Aḥmad’s arrival was Āqā al-Waḥīd Bāqir Bihbahānī (d. 1205
hl
/1791
ce
). Through the sometimes severe efforts, both mental and political, of the Āqā, the
Principlist
(
Uṣūlī
) or analytic school of jurisprudence and philosophy of law and language became the dominant one in the scholastic establishment; from there it spread to the point where the overwhelming majority of Shīʿī scholars today follow the analytic school. Losing this fight was the
Traditionist
(
Akhbārī
) school, who generally confined the theory of jurisprudence to a more or less critical discussion of traditions attributed to the Imāms 
(ʿa)
. While it appears certain that young Shaykh Aḥmad attended the Āqā’s lectures, the latter was fifty years his senior and politically active. So it is doubtful that he developed much of a relationship with the Āqā.
The Shaykh also attended the lectures of many of the most prominent students of Āqā al-Waḥīd, including Shaykh Jaʿfar ibn Khiḍr al-Najafī (d. 1228
hl
/1813
ce
), also known by the honorific title
Kāshif al-Ghiṭāʾ
(
Unveiler of Mysteries
); and Sayyid Muḥammad Mahdī ibn Murtaḍā al-Ṭabāṭabāʾī (d. 1797), better known by the honorific
Baḥr al-ʿUlūm
(
Sea of Knowledge
). Baḥr al-ʿUlūm was also known as a great
ʿārif
(
cognizant
), viz., someone who had reached some of the higher stages of prehension generally associated with mysticism. Shaykh Aḥmad was to receive
licenses
(
ijāzāt
) from these and other prominent and important scholars of his day, all of which contain comments praising his erudition and piety in the highest terms. Baḥr al-ʿUlūm even goes so far as to call Shaykh Aḥmad, a full generation junior to the former, a
“brother”
and
“
best
or
cream
(
nukhbah
) of the
cognizants
(
ʿurafāʾ
)”
.
14
There does not appear to have been a prominent school of Falsafah in the ʿAtabāt
15
during Shaykh Aḥmad’s time. That was to be found in Isfahan, Iran. On the other hand, the scholars of Najaf and Karbala routinely employed Avicennan logic; and the Uṣūlī school emphasized a critical, analytic approach to the problems of philosophy of law, jurisprudence proper, and theology. The works of the great mathematician, astronomer, philosopher, and theologian Naṣīruddīn Ṭūsī (d. 672
hl
/1274
ce
) and his successors in the Kalām were widely available, read, taught, and studied. The numerous libraries of Najaf and Karbala were among the best in Muslim civilization, and the treasures of Falsafah were put to use in the development of theology and the philosophy of law.
The metaphysics of Mullā Ṣadrā (d. 1050
hl
/1640
ce
) and its application to theology by his most famous student, the traditionist Mullā Muḥsin Fayḍ Kāshānī (d. 1091
hl
/1680
ce
), was well known by the leading scholars of the ʿAtabāt, although they generally discouraged the public dissemination of this particular school in very strong terms. Many saw in Mullā Muḥsin especially, who was otherwise a well respected scholar of
traditions
(
aḥādīth
), an unwelcome attempt to introduce the panentheistic doctrine of the non- and even anti-Shīʿī mystic Ibn ʿArabī into standard theology. Shaykh Yūsuf ibn Aḥmad al-Baḥrānī (d. 1186
hl
/1772
ce
), the last great Akhbārī jurisprudent and theologian, a compatriot of Shaykh Aḥmad, and a wielder of great influence even upon the leading analytic scholars, considered all of the
falāsafah
(
philosophers
) to be unbelievers, criticizing even his coreligionist Naṣīruddīn Ṭūsī. He reserves some of his harshest criticism for his fellow Akhbārī, Mullā Muḥsin. It was two years after Shaykh Aḥmad had first left for the ʿAtabāt that Shaykh Yūsuf passed away.
16
Surely the strength of the anti-Mullā Ṣadrā, anti-Mullā Muḥsin sentiment of many scholars was not lost on him.
Despite this, Najaf and Karbala were by no means monolithic, and one cannot discount the likelihood of there having been private teachers of Falsafah proper, including that of Mullā Ṣadrā. Indeed, in the early philosophical works of Shaykh Aḥmad dating from the period spent in Iraq and eastern Arabia – many of which were responses to the questions of other scholars –, we see references to the doctrines of Mullā Ṣadrā and Mullā Muḥsin, among others. In some cases it is the questioner who is asking about the interpretation of some of the teachings of the latter two. It is thus certain that the works of these authors, as well as that of other philosophers and mystics, were available and intently studied by some scholars, whatever official attitudes may have been.
It cannot be emphasized enough that opposition to the doctrines of Ibn ʿArabī and Mullā Ṣadrā on the part of the leaders of the scholastic establishment did not necessarily constitute an opposition to mystical wayfaring per se, especially when privately practiced. On the contrary, we find numerous instances of a prominent jurisprudent such as Baḥr al-ʿUlūm opposed to Sufism and Ibn ʿArabī while also being both a mystic and known as a great mystic. Books on mystical wayfaring (
sayr
wa
sulūk
), that is, the ethical and practical discipline through means of which one is supposed to advance in closeness to God – as opposed to Sufi doctrine – were also studied or even written by prominent scholars such as Baḥr al-ʿUlūm.
17
What was generally opposed was organizational Sufism and the pantheistic/panentheistic interpretation of mystical experience; both these ran directly counter to explicit teachings of the Shīʿī Imāms as well as undermined the authority and political stability of the scholastic establishment.
18
We do not know whether or not Shaykh Aḥmad attended formal lectures in the Falsafah of Mullā Ṣadrā or other philosophers. The Shaykh does make reference to a prominent philosopher in Basra (Ibrahimi n.d., p. 183) but either the Shaykh or the reference does not mention his name. We do know that, in addition to his studies in the standard curriculum including prophetic traditions, philosophy of law and language, jurisprudence, ethics, and the Kalām; he pursued and delved deeply into other sciences such as mathematics and astronomy, alchemy and chemistry, mineralogy, the occult Hermetic arts (such as numerology and letter-based hermeneutics), and even medicine. He had a special attraction towards alchemy, which the first Imām, ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, had once called
“the sister of prophecy”
. The Shaykh by all accounts attained a profound mastery of that science and did what appears to have been original research in the field. Some of these disciplines, such as alchemy and other Hermetic arts, were only taught privately and secretly, and we do not know who his outward teachers were in these fields, if any.
19
What we do know is that he was associated with a certain obscure alchemist and Hermetic philosopher Shaykh ʿAlī ibn ʿAbdillāh ibn Fāris, upon some of whose works Shaykh Aḥmad wrote commentaries; he apparently lived in the utmost seclusion. Shaykh Aḥmad also extols Shaykh ʿAlī with a kind of praise he bestows upon few other scholars.
Despite his multifarious interests, Shaykh Aḥmad did not neglect jurisprudence, and eventually became a
mujtahid
within the Uṣūlī school. That is, he joined the ranks of those able to deduce by oneself, using the
principles
(
uṣūl
) of philosophy of law and language, the laws of jurisprudence from the prophetic sources, viz., the Prophet of Islām, his daughter Fāṭimah, and the Twelve Imāms 
(ṣ)
. This was a very difficult rank to obtain, and it was not uncommon for one to take twenty years or more of difficult study to reach it. He also wrote a number of advanced works in the fields of jurisprudence and the philosophy of law and language.
20
In the field of
Traditions
(
Aḥādīth
) he attained an uncanny mastery. Yet, after his intense focus upon the Qurʾān and the traditions of the Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
, it appears he devoted the major portion of his energies to the critical study of Falsafah and the Kalām; especially, though not exclusively, the existentialist branch of the
Illuminationist
(
Ishrāqī
) school of Mullā Muḥsin and of the latter’s master, Mullā Ṣadrā.
Shaykh Aḥmad’s life was characterized by a certain dynamism and mobility. After leaving al-Aḥsāʾ for the ʿAtabāt, he returned a few years later due a plague that ravaged southern Iraq. He married and settled down in Al-Aḥsāʾ for some years; during the first conquest of Aḥsāʾ by the Wahhabis (ca. 1208
hl
/1794
ce
) the Shaykh escaped to Baḥrayn.
21
After staying in Baḥrayn for four years, he visited the ʿAtabāt for a time and then settled with his family near Basra. In large part to escape the adulation of an increasing number of admirers and to avoid distraction from his
forward presence
(
iqbāl
) (see page 3), he moved from one suburb of Basrah to another numerous times. In 1221
hl
/1806
ce
he made the fateful decision to go on pilgrimage to Mashhad, in Eastern Iran, to visit the tomb of the eighth
imām
ʿAlī al-Riḍā 
(ʿa)
. Along the way he passed through Yazd, where the famous Shaykh Jaʿfar Kāshif al-Ghiṭāʾ, who had previously given Shaykh Aḥmad a license (see page 3), was temporarily residing. The scholars and scientists of the city, coming from various fields of learning, quickly became enamored of Shaykh Aḥmad to the point where they heavily lobbied and begged him to remain with them and to settle in their city.
The Shaykh promised to spend time with the people of Yazd after finishing his pilgrimage to Mashhad. So once he completed his visitation of Imām ʿAlī al- Riḍā 
(ʿa)
, Shaykh Aḥmad settled in the Iranian city of Yazd. There he gave lectures and wrote many treatises in response to the dozens of difficult questions presented to him in philosophy, alchemy, esoteric traditions of the Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
, and so forth. Already a
mujtahid
, within a short time, he became a major
marjaʿ
al-
taqlīd
(
source of jurisprudential emulation
), as well as the most important theologian on the Iranian scene.
22
Eventually he attracted the attention of the then reigning monarch, Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh Qājār (r. 1797–1834
ce
). The king began a correspondence with the Shaykh, and tried in vain to induce the latter to visit Tehran. Shaykh Aḥmad politely but pointedly refused, citing his strong dislike of intermingling with the opulent, let alone emperors.
The Shāh replied very politely and respectfully; at the same time he made it clear that, if the Shaykh didn’t come to Tehran, then the king would have to go to Yazd, with a standard royal entourage of at least 10,000 men, which the people of Yazd would then be responsible for hosting. Shaykh Aḥmad, by all accounts, was aghast and in complete distress at the prospect of getting dragged into the agendas of the rulers, so much so that he attempted to return to Iraq. But the scholars and leaders of Yazd persuaded him that, even if he were to escape to Iraq, they would still face the king’s wrath (as accomplices in the Shaykh’s escape). When it became clear that leaving or staying would cause extreme hardship upon the people of Yazd, he finally relented and did in fact visit Tehran in 1223
hl
/1808
ce
.
According to ʿA Aḥsāʾī (n.d., p. 15) and other sources: After the arrival of Shaykh Aḥmad in Tehran, there was an earthquake that affected the southern suburb of Rayy and its environs. Afterwards, Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh had a dream wherein someone came to him and said,
“If it weren’t for the presence of the respected Shaykh Aḥmad in your city, the earthquake would have destroyed all of its people!”
Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh became even more enamored of the Shaykh and tried to convince him to stay. Indeed he was so self-effacing in the process that some historians have concluded that
“the Shah was convinced that obedience to the Shaykh was obligatory, and opposition to him constituted unbelief”
(Algar 1969, p. 67).
23
During his stay in Tehran Shaykh Aḥmad wrote at least one treatise in response to some of the king’s eschatological questions (
al-Risālah al-Khāqāniyyah
). The king asked the Shaykh to settle in Tehran. However, bluntly citing the incompatibility of the oppressive and tyrannical nature of monarchic regimes with his own dignity (Algar 1969, p. 67), the Shaykh refused and asked for permission to return to Yazd, which was granted. About six years later, following a command from Imām ʿAlī 
(ʿa)
received in a vision, he decided in 1229
hl
/1814
ce
to head back towards the ʿAtabāt, despite the desperate attempts of the people of Yazd to convince him to remain. Upon his arrival in the Iranian city of Kirmanshah – by way of Isfahan, where he stayed for forty days and debated Mullā Ṣadrā’s doctrines with the
falāsafah
of that town – the eldest son of Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh persuaded him to spend some time in that city. He settled his family there and continued his journey to the ʿAtabāt, where he spent some time before returning to Kirmanshah. Aside from other pilgrimages and travels (including one
ḥājj
to Mecca), he remained in Kirmanshah until 1239
hl
/1824
ce
. The bulk of Shaykh Aḥmad’s five most important and mature philosophical works were written during his sojourn here. During 1238
hl
/1822–3
ce
the Shaykh made one last pilgrimage to visit Imām Riḍā 
(ʿa)
, spending a few months in Yazd and then Isfahan along the return journey. In 1239
hl
/1824
ce
he left Iran and settled his family in Karbala, where he apparently intended to spend the last of his earthly days.
Unfortunately the jealousy of some less senior establishment theologians created problems for the Shaykh.
24
One prominent and proud
mullā
in Qazvin, Mullā Muḥammad Ṭaqī Baraghānī (d. 1263
hl
/1847
ce
), apparently felt slighted because Shaykh Aḥmad did not immediately call upon him during his stopover in that town as he was making his way to Mashhad for his last pilgrimage (Ṭāliqānī 2007, p. 97).
25
During the Shaykh’s time in Qazvin Baraghānī declared the Shaykh an unbeliever in Islām; he accused the Shaykh, ironically, of being a follower of Mullā Ṣadrā in eschatology and in the latter’s alleged denial of physical resurrection. This sparked a more general reaction on the part of other segments of the scholastic establishment. Although few, if any, senior scholars concurred with Baraghānī’s pronouncement – at worst some demured or remained non-committal – concern in different quarters began to be expressed about Shaykh Aḥmad’s unique, iconoclastic, and non-scholastic approaches to theology; as well as to the potential effects of his teaching and leadership on the traditional establishment.
By the time the Shaykh finally settled himself and his family in Karbala, the atmosphere in the ʿAtabāt had been poisoned by the propaganda of Baraghānī and his associates to the point where there were, among other intrigues,
26
even attempts to get him into trouble with the Ottoman authorities in Baghdad. Finally, the Shaykh decided to go to Mecca, ostensibly to make pilgrimage for the Ḥājj, and to perhaps even go into exile there. But there are indications that he was aware that his time in this world was coming to a close; as in the case of his decision to leave Yazd, it appears he had been commanded by his inward masters to make this move. In Damascus he fell ill, and he passed away just outside of Medina on the 21
st
of Dhū al-Qaʿdah, 1241 (June 27, 1826), at age seventy-three (seventy-five in lunar years). His entourage buried him in the cemetery of al-Baqīʿ in Medina, at the feet of the very same three
imām
s
he had seen in his first visions, and who had initiated him into the profundities of the
wisdom
(
ḥikmah
) of Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
.
1.2
Character and Charisma
Shaykh Aḥmad al-Aḥsāʾī was at once both the most influential as well as the most controversial Shīʿī scholar of 19
th
-century Iran and of Tashayyuʿ at large. 190 years after his passing, the dust from his burst upon the Shīʿī scene has still not settled. But if there is one thing agreed upon universally by virtually all scholars and historians past and present, including his many detractors (who still largely dominate the scholastic establishment), is that the Shaykh possessed a unique and electrifying spirituality, as well as an uncanny charisma. The eloquent rhymed prose of the establishment biographer Mīrzā Muḥammad Bāqir Khwānsārī of Isfahan (d. 1313
hl
/1895
ce
) encapsulates a large portion of this consensus (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, pp. 216–217):
In these recent times no one like him has been encountered with regards to
cognizance
(
maʿrifah
) and understanding; nobility and sound resolve; excellence in temperament, beauty in
path
(
ṭarīqah
), purity in
inner reality
(
ḥaqīqah
), abundance of spirituality, knowledge of Arabic, ethics of the Sunnah, well-approved characteristics, points of theoretical and practical wisdom; beauty of expression and eloquence, subtlety and fineness of writing style; and sincerity of love and devotion, to the magnificent Ahlulbayt of the Messenger; so much so that some of the exoteric-minded people have accused him of excess and
extremism
(
ghulūw
); whereas in fact his is, without a doubt, one of the people of majesty and transcendence.
In all of his travels throughout Iran during this and earlier periods, large crowds and receptions greeted him everywhere he stopped, including both of his visits to Isfahan, where even the leading
falāsafah
treated him with reverence, despite debating him on his criticisms of Mullā Ṣadrā. Once during his last visit to that city, when Shaykh Aḥmad was leading the
communion
(
ṣalāh
), some people counted over 16,000 people following him, overflowing the grounds of the mosque (Ṭāliqānī 2007, p. 71; ʿA Aḥsāʾī n.d., p. 24).
There is a very important point to be made in this context. At that time most of the great scholars of Baḥrayn, the ʿAtabāt, and Iran came from well-established families and belonged to networks throughout that ran through the major cities of the region. In both the ʿAtabāt and of course Iran, most of them were Iranian or of Iranian origin. The phenomenon of Shaykh Aḥmad presented something of a shock to the leaders and students of the scholastic establishment, as well as the cultured community at large. To paraphrase Ṭāliqānī’s analysis of the matter (Ṭāliqānī 2007, p. 95): Most Iranians of that time generally looked down upon Arabs with contempt and considered them inferior in their intellectual capabilities. Then, in spite of any real or imagined status already possessed by the elites of the scholastic establishment, this son of an oasis in the Arabian desert seemed to come out of nowhere, surpass them in their own areas of expertise, supercede them in honor in their own cities, leading them by the thousands in communion, and even the King of Iran reserves for him a reverence that he has shown to no other Persian scholar, let alone an Arab.
27
Even in the ʿAtabāt, where the Arab presence was naturally far greater, Sayyid Mahdī Ṭabāṭabāʾī (Baḥr al-ʿUlūm) is said to have remarked to some of his associates (ʿA Aḥsāʾī n.d., p. 9) his sheer amazement at how this
“gem”
and
“
holy man
(
rabbānī
)”
with a
“sign from God”
(presumably his visions of the Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
are meant) appeared out of a land of bedouins and country folk, devoid of scholars and philosophers, with little access to or even interest in higher religious knowledge. For an Arab scholar with no network in the establishment to speak of, and no political connections or ambitions, to achieve such a feat (in spite of strong reclusive tendencies) points to the power of his charisma and the depth of his learning.
Despite his strenuous disagreement with Shaykh Aḥmad over some of the latter’s criticisms of Mullā Ṣadrā, Mullā ʿAlī Nūrī (d. 1246
hl
/1831
ce
) still considered him at least equal in stature to his then late teacher Āqā Muḥammad Bīdābādī (d. 1197
hl
/1783
ce
), another powerful spiritual personality. Once Mullā ʿAlī Nūrī was asked,
“How does Shaykh Aḥmad compare in stature with Āqā Bīdābādī?”
He replied (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, pp. 226),
“Distinguishing between them cannot be done until after the one who wants to do it has reached their
station
(
maqām
). And where do I fit in the midst of all of that?”
28
A key component of the Shaykh’s personality was an abhorrence of fame and position, as well as preference for seclusion. Indeed, he appeared to have no use whatsoever for anything in the immediate phenomenal world. He never developed political alliances or networks with anyone inside of the scholastic establishment. He did not accept any formal professorship in Isfahan or Yazd; nor any position in Tehran or anywhere else. Returning to Kirmanshah from his last pilgrimage to Mashhad, Shaykh Aḥmad made a final stopover in Isfahan in 1238
hl
/1823
ce
. The elite scholars of the city such as Ḥājj Muḥammad Ibrāhīm Karbāsī, Mullā ʿAlī Nūrī, and many others pressed him to stay awhile, at a minumum for the sacred month of Ramaḍān, which was drawing nigh; Shaykh Aḥmad finally accepted. According to Mullā Hādī Sabzawārī (Sabzawārī 2000, p. 12), the greatest follower of Mullā Ṣadrā in the nineteenth century and who would become a later critic of the Shaykh: Mullā ʿAlī Nūrī, apparently temporarily cancelling his own classes, commanded all of his students, including Sabzawārī himself, to attend the lectures of Shaykh Aḥmad. These continued for 53 days, the duration of his stay in Isfahan. Despite strong reservations about the Shaykh’s attitude towards Mullā Ṣadrā as well as doubts about his philosophical knowledge (a common theme amongst many of the students of Mullā ʿAlī Nūrī in particular), Sabzawārī notes that Shaykh Aḥmad was
“unrivaled in his ascetic ways”
(Sabzawārī 1977, p. 14). Sabzawārī also narrates (Ṭāliqānī 2007, p. 94) how the greatest scholars of Isfahan were present at these lectures and would sit beneath the minbar from which he would lecture in philosophy and
ḥikmah
ilāhiyyah
(
divine wisdom
[loosely,
metaphysics
]
).
Endnotes
1
This title was given as part of an introductory epitaph of Shaykh Aḥmad by the famous biographer Mīrzā Khwānsārī of Isfahan in the course of his encyclopedia
Rawḍāt al-Jannāt
. The full text of the epitaph reads (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, p. 216)
Interpreter of the Divine Sages; Tongue of both the
Cognizants
(
ʿUrafāʾ
) and of the Theologians; Blaze of the Epoch and Philosopher of the Era; Knower of the Secrets of the Foundations and of the Meanings; Our Shaykh: Aḥmad, son of Shaykh Zaynuddīn, son of Shaykh Ibrāhīm, al-Aḥsāʾī al-Baḥrānī.
Mīrzā Khwānsārī was also a student of Ḥājj Muḥammad Ibrāhīm Karbāsī, one of the most important philosophers of law in Isfahan, and a contemporary as well as a deep admirer of Shaykh Aḥmad.
↩
2
Hence our author is sometimes (and infrequently) called Aḥmad al-Baḥrānī. At the present time al-Aḥsāʾ is a province within the Saudi Kingdom.↩
3
The expression
‘
al-
ʿāmmah
’
(
‘
the people at large
’) is a term used by the later Imāms of Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
to refer to the self-titled
“Ahl Al-Sunnah Wa al-Jamāʿah”
. The expression
‘
tashayyuʿ
’ is what they used to refer to the praxis of what we now call
“Shīʿī Islām”
.↩
4
In conformance with the standard convention for the use-mention distinction, in this chapter we use a single-quote name to mention an expression, sentence, or other string of characters; we use a double-quote name to mention a concept, proposition, or other object of thought per se. We also use double quotes in the usual sense of quoting the speech or comments of others. The context should make it clear which sense of double-quotes is intended.↩
5
This autobiography was written at the request of his eldest son Muḥammad Ṭaqī. The Shaykh also wrote two abridged versions, each at the request of a student (Aḥsāʾī 2009, Vol. 8, pp. 467–469; and 471–473). The biography penned by his younger son ʿAbdullāh is well known in its Persian translation; a transcription of the original Arabic version (unpublished) has been made available to this author. Based on internal evidence and some cross-references between Shaykh Aḥmad’s work and the biography written by his son, the spiritual autobiography probably could not have been written much earlier than 1226
hl
/1811
ce
; in all liklihood he penned it during or after 1236
hl
/1821
ce
.↩
6
Interestingly, one of the first things this stranger taught our young Aḥmad was, in effect, the priority of matter over form (Aḥsāʾī 2009, Vol. 8, pp. 461). This is a germ of the inverse hylomorphism which would later become one of the bedrocks of Shaykh Aḥmad’s philosophy. See page 51.
The word
‘
āyah
’ (plural
‘
ayāt
’), signifying a standard subdivision of the Qurʾān, is almost universally (and inaccurately) translated as
‘verse
’.
↩
7
The abbreviation
‘
ṣ
’ stands for the invocation of communion, such as
‘
ṣalla
Allāhu
ʿalayhi
wa
ālihī
’ or
‘
ṣalla
Allāhu
ʿalayhim
ajmaʿīn
’ and the like. The abbreviation
‘
ʿa
’ stands for the invocation of peace, such as
‘
ʿalayhi
al-
salām
’,
‘
ʿalayha
al-
salām
’, and the like.↩
8
In the oral tradition of Shīʿī mysticism, the receiving of the saliva of the Prophet or one of the Imāms is symbolic of the transmission of some of their knowledge.↩
9
The word
‘
riḍā
’ may be translated by
‘well-pleasedness
’. In the process of spiritual
walāyah
it is one of the highest stations, if not the very highest. For more details see Hamid (2011b, pp. 95–97).↩
10
That is,
“If you look at everything that has happened in your life so far, you will see that Allāh has already habituated you to this
ṭarīqah
(
path
). Everything has been prepared for you up to now so let go of the future.”
↩
11
In the traditional scholastic establishment, an
ijāzah
(
license
or
permission
) given by a teacher served as a kind of diploma. It connected the student to higher links in a continuous chain of teachers going back to the first transmitters from the Imāms 
(ʿa)
themselves.↩
12
There is an urban legend (Ṭāliqānī 2007, p. 238) to the effect that it was exactly after Shaykh Aḥmad ate food from the table of the king Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh Qājār 1223
hl
/1808
ce
that he lost this
“
power
(
malakah
)”
of continuous vision of the Imāms 
(ʿa)
at will,
“obtained by means of such long and painful spiritual exercises”
. The story goes back at least to Murtaḍā Chahārdahī, a mid-20
th
- century historian of Shaykhism and Bābism. Shaykh Aḥmad himself says nothing to this effect. Of course it is indeed the case that the Shaykh’s coerced journey to the court of Sulṭān Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh was concurrent with one important phase in the rapid ascent of the former’s fame.
The apparent source of the story is a quote from the
Kashkūl
of Shaykh Bahāʾuddīn al-ʿĀmilī (d. 1030/1621
ce
, best known as Shaykh Bahāʾī) mentioned in that notorious mixture of history and gossip, fact and fiction,
Qiṣaṣ al-ʿUlamāʾ
by Mīrzā Muḥammad ibn Sulaymān Tunkābunī (d. before 1320
hl
/1901–02
ce
), a contemporary of Sayyid Kāẓim. Shaykh Bahāʾī is quoted as saying that he would have been the most
detached and ascetic
(
zāhid
) person of his time, except that his father took him to Isfahan, where he ate of the food of the king and dressed in the clothes of the court (Tunkābunī 1887, pagination confused; roughly middle of the book, appears as page 23). Somewhere along the line the story got mixed up with that of Shaykh Aḥmad.
Shaykh Aḥmad’s son ʿAbdullāh appears to suggest (ʿA Aḥsāʾī n.d., p. 10) that there was an earlier period beginning around 1207
hl
, as the fame of the Shaykh spread throughout al-Aḥsāʾ, where the access of the Shaykh to that continuous vision of the Imāms was at least temporarily interrupted.
This issue and other nuances in the life of Shaykh Aḥmad need further research. Indeed, despite a considerable wealth of sources and materials, a critical and comprehensive biography of the Shaykh has yet to be written in any Eastern or Western language.
↩
13
Indeed, the majority of the population in these two cities at that time spoke Persian or had Persian roots.↩
14
It is an unfortunate practice that the expression
‘
ʿārif
’ (plural
‘
ʿurafāʾ
’) is still commonly and uncritically translated by
‘gnostic
’ (and the related gerunds
‘
maʿrifah
’ and
‘
irfān
’ are translated by
‘gnosticism
’). Scholars and historians of the Muslim philosophical and mystical traditions remain too heavily affected by the project of the late Henry Corbin to assimilate elements of Muslim traditions into his personal project, inclusive of a universalist conception of
gnosis
. Thus Corbin interprets much within the Muslim philosophical and mystical traditions as a
“meta-historical”
continuation of the early dualist and antinomian shools of Christian Gnosticism and related traditions. This use of
‘gnostic
’ by Corbin was arguably appropriate in his studies of Ismāʿīlī thought, a Muslim tradition with strong Gnostic elements. A few of the more radical Ṣūfī or
Extremist
(
Ghulāt
) schools (some of them also studied by Corbin) may also be amenable to such a treatment. But the use of that term to cover the full gamut of Islām’s cosmological and mystical traditions, including and especially those of Twelver Tashayyuʿ, crosses the border into anachronism or confusion.
The words
‘
maʿrifah
’ and
‘
ʿārif
’ are used to denote objectual, phenomenological knowing. Unlike Arabic or the Romance languages – 
‘savoir
’ versus
‘connaître
’ in French is an example – English does not have a common or everyday way to express the naturally intuitive distinction between propositional knowledge and objectual or phenomenological knowledge.
‘Recognition
’ comes close but is too restrictive. We will use the word
‘cognizance
’, an English word for objectual knowledge derived from the same Latin root as
‘connaître
’. It is not as common in English as it could be, but it is much more semantically precise and philosophically neutral than the loaded word
‘gnostic
’.
↩
15
The ʿAtabāt comprises the holy cities of Najaf, Karbala, and Kazimayn, burial sites for six of the Twelve Imāms 
(ʿa)
.↩
16
Shaykh Aḥmad also received a license from each of at least four students of Shaykh Yūsuf, including his nephew Shaykh Ḥusayn Āl ʿUṣfūr.↩
17
See, e.g.,
Risāleh-i Siyār va Sulūk
(Ṭabāṭabāʾī 1982), attributed to Baḥr al-ʿUlūm. The authorship of that title is disputed, and a number of Sayyid Mahdī’s descendants strongly deny that he is its author, despite his ownership of the original manuscript. The issue is still unsettled.↩
18
There is still an unfortunate tendency throughout Western scholarship to equate Islāmic mysticism with Sufism par excellence, leading to all sorts of misleading descriptions of Shīʿī opposition to Sufism, or even to the doctrines of Mullā Ṣadrā, as mere
“legalism”
and so forth. Some of the opposition to Sufism and mysticism in general did indeed have a legalistic backdrop; on the other hand a significant portion of it came from the depths of the primordial Shīʿī traditions of spiritual wayfaring and mystical cognizance.↩
19
His inward teachers in each of these sciences were, of course, the Ahlulbayt 
(ṣ)
, as the Shaykh attests again and again.↩
20
The works in jurisprudence and philosophy of law were written at an earlier period than his mature works in philosophy proper. One can find the seeds of much of Shaykh Aḥmad’s later work in metaphysics and cosmology in some of these earlier writings.↩
21
According to his son ʿAbdullāh in the latter’s
Sharḥ Aḥwāl al-Shaykh Aḥmad al-Aḥsāʾī
(ʿA Aḥsāʾī n.d., p. 10),
“the Khārijī ʿAbdulʿazīz ibn Muḥammad [ibn Saʿūd], known as the Wahhābī,”
himself did his utmost to capture Shaykh Aḥmad, even spending a large sum of money to that end. He quotes his father to the effect that the Wahhabi conquest of al-Aḥsāʾ took place on the 24
th
of Shaʿbān, 1208
hl
(around the 26
th
of March, 1794).
The Wahhabis conquered al-Aḥsāʾ three times. The first Wahhabi occupation of al-Aḥsāʾ lasted from 1794 to 1818 (during the lifetime of Shaykh Aḥmad); the second from 1830–1871; and the third from 1913 to the present day.
↩
22
It has been estimated that eventually one fourth of Iran became followers of the Shaykh in jurisprudence. He also attracted a large following in India as well.↩
23
A similar point is made by Shaykh ʿAbdullāh (ʿA Aḥsāʾī n.d., p. 15), which is probably the original source for Algar’s observation.↩
24
Most modern scholars, including Algar, Bayat, Corbin, and Ṭāliqānī (Algar 1969, p. 68; Bayat 1982, pp. 39–40; Corbin 1993, pp. 353–354; Ṭāliqānī 2007, pp. 93–96) concur that jealousy was the original motivating factor in the Shaykh’s being declared an unbeliever. The then contemporary biographer and scholar Mīrzā Khwānsārī, who was not a follower of the Shaykh, also shared this view (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, pp. 227–229; quoting approvingly from Sayyid Kāẓim Rashtī), and even Shaykh Aḥmad himself (Aḥsāʾī 2009, Vol. 8, pp. 198–199) points to it as a factor in the later persecution he had to endure. Because so many of the Shīʿah in Iran, India, and elsewhere were now sending their religious dues to the Shaykh, there were probably financial motives as well behind the intrigues of Mullā Baraghānī and some of his associates (Ṭāliqānī 2007, p. 107).↩
25
ʿAbdurriḍā ibn Abi al-Qāsim Ibrāhīmī, in the course of his Introduction to the 4
th
edition of
Sharḥ al-Ziyārah al-Jāmiʿah al-Kabīrah
(Aḥsāʾī 2003, Vol. 1, p. 13; also in Aḥsāʾī 2009, Vol. 1, p. 16) suggests that this incident took place on the return journey to Kirmanshah from his sojourn in Isfahan after the final pilgrimage to Mashhad.↩
26
Such intrigues included going so far as to interpolate some of his works to make them sound explicitly offensive to scholastic and even popular sensibilities. See, e.g., Ṭāliqānī (2007, 100–101).↩
27
Indeed, Ṭāliqānī goes further and assumes that this was all too much of a burden for the hearts of some of the scholarly elites to bear. Put a different way, the spark lit by Baraghānī easily ignited the jealousy already dormant in their hearts. After all, it was Imām ʿAlī 
(ʿa)
who famously said that jealousy is the particular affliction of the scholars.↩
28
Another version (Rashtī 2011, Vol. 7, p. 249) narrates the final sentence of Mullā’s response as follows:
“And I am well below the station of those two and have not reached their level of virtue and knowledge. So how can I possibly give a preference?”
↩