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:
- Life, Travels, Character and Charisma
- Works: Opera Majora and Minora
- Legacy and Influence I: Students, Close Disciples, Licensees, and Other Contemporaries
- Legacy and Influence II: Shaykhism
- Major Arcs in the Philosophy of Shaykh Aḥmad I: Preliminary Considerations
- Major Arcs in the Philosophy of Shaykh Aḥmad II: Objective Logic and Dialectics
- 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.
(
),
more popularly known as
(
); Aḥmad the son of Zaynuddīn, was born in Rajab, 1166
(in or near the month of May, 1753
) 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.
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.
According to Shaykh Aḥmad’s testimony in his own spiritual autobiography (Aḥsāʾī 2009, Vol. 8, pp. 457–466),
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.
(
).
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
in a vision: the second
al-Ḥasan ibn ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib
, the fourth
ʿAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib
, and the fifth
Muḥammad ibn ʿAlī ibn al-Ḥusayn
.
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.
Then Imām Ḥasan
replied with the following hemistiches:
added the following:
(
) has tightened;
(
) 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
opened and he would see some of them most days and nights. Eventually he reached a point where he could see the Imāms
and the Prophet
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
/1794
) he had a vision wherein the tenth
ʿAlī ibn Muḥammad al-Hādī
passed him twelve
(
), one
(
) from each
.
became unavoidable. At that point, our Shaykh tells us, distraction from his
(
) led to the closure of that door that had been opened continuously for so long. Afterwards he continued to see members of the Ahlulbayt
, but only intermittently.
ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib and the third
Ḥusayn ibn ʿAlī respectively, were at that time under Ottoman rule, though semi-autonomous and under strong Iranian influence.
The chief figure of this establishment at the time of young Aḥmad’s arrival was Āqā al-Waḥīd Bāqir Bihbahānī (d. 1205
/1791
). Through the sometimes severe efforts, both mental and political, of the Āqā, the
(
) 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
(
) school, who generally confined the theory of jurisprudence to a more or less critical discussion of traditions attributed to the Imāms
. 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.
/1813
), also known by the honorific title
(
); and Sayyid Muḥammad Mahdī ibn Murtaḍā al-Ṭabāṭabāʾī (d. 1797), better known by the honorific
(
). Baḥr al-ʿUlūm was also known as a great
(
), viz., someone who had reached some of the higher stages of prehension generally associated with mysticism. Shaykh Aḥmad was to receive
(
) 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
and
cream
(
) of the
(
)”
.
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
/1274
) 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.
/1640
) and its application to theology by his most famous student, the traditionist Mullā Muḥsin Fayḍ Kāshānī (d. 1091
/1680
), 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
(
), 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
/1772
), 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
(
) 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.
Surely the strength of the anti-Mullā Ṣadrā, anti-Mullā Muḥsin sentiment of many scholars was not lost on him.
), 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.
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.
. 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.
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.
within the Uṣūlī school. That is, he joined the ranks of those able to deduce by oneself, using the
(
) 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
. 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.
In the field of
(
) he attained an uncanny mastery. Yet, after his intense focus upon the Qurʾān and the traditions of the Ahlulbayt
, 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
(
) school of Mullā Muḥsin and of the latter’s master, Mullā Ṣadrā.
/1794
) the Shaykh escaped to Baḥrayn.
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
(
) (see page 3), he moved from one suburb of Basrah to another numerous times. In 1221
/1806
he made the fateful decision to go on pilgrimage to Mashhad, in Eastern Iran, to visit the tomb of the eighth
ʿAlī al-Riḍā
. 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.
, 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
, and so forth. Already a
, within a short time, he became a major
al-
(
), as well as the most important theologian on the Iranian scene.
Eventually he attracted the attention of the then reigning monarch, Fatḥ-ʿAlī Shāh Qājār (r. 1797–1834
). 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.
/1808
.
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
(Algar 1969, p. 67).
). 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
received in a vision, he decided in 1229
/1814
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
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
to Mecca), he remained in Kirmanshah until 1239
/1824
. The bulk of Shaykh Aḥmad’s five most important and mature philosophical works were written during his sojourn here. During 1238
/1822–3
the Shaykh made one last pilgrimage to visit Imām Riḍā
, spending a few months in Yazd and then Isfahan along the return journey. In 1239
/1824
he left Iran and settled his family in Karbala, where he apparently intended to spend the last of his earthly days.
One prominent and proud
in Qazvin, Mullā Muḥammad Ṭaqī Baraghānī (d. 1263
/1847
), 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).
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.
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
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
s
he had seen in his first visions, and who had initiated him into the profundities of the
(
) of Ahlulbayt
.
-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
/1895
) encapsulates a large portion of this consensus (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, pp. 216–217):
(
) and understanding; nobility and sound resolve; excellence in temperament, beauty in
(
), purity in
(
), 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
(
); whereas in fact his is, without a doubt, one of the people of majesty and transcendence.
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
(
), 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).
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
and
(
)”
with a
(presumably his visions of the Ahlulbayt
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.
/1831
) still considered him at least equal in stature to his then late teacher Āqā Muḥammad Bīdābādī (d. 1197
/1783
), another powerful spiritual personality. Once Mullā ʿAlī Nūrī was asked,
He replied (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, pp. 226),
(
). And where do I fit in the midst of all of that?”
/1823
. 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
(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
(
]
).
. The full text of the epitaph reads (Khwānsārī 1938, Vol. 1, p. 216)
(
) 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.
’
(
’) is a term used by the later Imāms of Ahlulbayt
to refer to the self-titled
. The expression
’ is what they used to refer to the praxis of what we now call
.↩
/1811
; in all liklihood he penned it during or after 1236
/1821
.↩
’ (plural
’), signifying a standard subdivision of the Qurʾān, is almost universally (and inaccurately) translated as
’.
’ stands for the invocation of communion, such as
Allāhu
wa
’ or
Allāhu
’ and the like. The abbreviation
’ stands for the invocation of peace, such as
al-
’,
al-
’, and the like.↩
’ may be translated by
’. In the process of spiritual
it is one of the highest stations, if not the very highest. For more details see Hamid (2011b, pp. 95–97).↩
(
). Everything has been prepared for you up to now so let go of the future.”
(
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
themselves.↩
/1808
that he lost this
(
)”
of continuous vision of the Imāms
at will,
. The story goes back at least to Murtaḍā Chahārdahī, a mid-20
– 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.
of Shaykh Bahāʾuddīn al-ʿĀmilī (d. 1030/1621
, best known as Shaykh Bahāʾī) mentioned in that notorious mixture of history and gossip, fact and fiction,
by Mīrzā Muḥammad ibn Sulaymān Tunkābunī (d. before 1320
/1901–02
), a contemporary of Sayyid Kāẓim. Shaykh Bahāʾī is quoted as saying that he would have been the most
(
) 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.
, 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.
’ (plural
’) is still commonly and uncritically translated by
’ (and the related gerunds
’ and
’ are translated by
’). 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
. Thus Corbin interprets much within the Muslim philosophical and mystical traditions as a
continuation of the early dualist and antinomian shools of Christian Gnosticism and related traditions. This use of
’ 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
(
) 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.
’ and
’ are used to denote objectual, phenomenological knowing. Unlike Arabic or the Romance languages –
’ versus
’ 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.
’ comes close but is too restrictive. We will use the word
’, an English word for objectual knowledge derived from the same Latin root as
’. 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
’.
.↩
(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.↩
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.↩
, as the Shaykh attests again and again.↩
(ʿA Aḥsāʾī n.d., p. 10),
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
of Shaʿbān, 1208
(around the 26
of March, 1794).
edition of
(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.↩
who famously said that jealousy is the particular affliction of the scholars.↩
Gnostic and gnosis are only loaded when they are defined under the exclusive rubric of the Hellenistic Gnosticisms of antiquity. This is not the only sense in which Corbin uses it to gloss ma’arifa (he also glosses it with a capital ‘G’ when he is referencing the late Hellenistic schools and with a small case ‘g’ whenever glossing ma’arifa and ‘irfan), and he goes out of his way throughout his works to underscore this point. Plato also uses the root of the noun “gnosis” in the form of noesis and derivatives without any connotation of any dualism therein. Given this, I am not sure your point is entirely an accurate one vis-a-vis Corbin.
Bismi Rabbi al-Zahra (S)
Many thanks for the constructive feedback and critique. It does not appear to this writer that your point is inconsistent with Note 14. Among other things, lower- and upper-case ‘g’ and ‘G’ are used in that note (and elsewhere) about just as Corbin (and you) used them. A couple of things:
1. Words, as you are already keenly aware, have literal, historical, technical, connotative, cultural, and other uses. For example: It is obvious that Plato and other Hellenic philosophers used their native word ‘gnosis’ in ordinary and technical ways with little-to-no hint of certain later Hellenistic developments.
2. There are at least three answers to your comment: ẓāhir (outward), bāṭin (inward), and taʾwīl (symbolic, paradigmatic). We could have a debate here in cyberspace on the outward and inward nuances and subtleties of Note 14; but then the nūr/light could get lost and the larger opportunity to raise the issue to a higher level would be missed. This brings us to
3. At the level of taʾwīl: This faqīr is interested in the development of a new paradigm shift (a la Thomas Kuhn) in Islamic philosophy and mysticism. The half-century-old paradigm and meta-language of Corbin and Nasr et al. has served the cause well in many respects. However, it has reached its limits and it’s now time to move on. From gnosis let’s move to a more comprehensive scientia. Both words have the same literal meaning (in Greek and Latin respectively), viz “knowledge”. But in our meta-language there is an important nuance of difference, differences reflected in the historical, technical, connotative, cultural, and other uses of these words. Using our meta-language, we may say that this move from gnosis to scientia is critical for a proper understanding of the Shaykh (S).
The above is perhaps too brief and abstract to convey the full picture of what this faqīr is expressing in this response; it needs a commentary 🙂 Over the coming days and weeks it will be expanded and get more clear, in shāʾa Ãllāh.
Thanks again for the comment!
Asalaam alaykum Shaykh Samawi. Thank you so much for such a wonderful introduction to Shaykh Aḥmad, it is very insightful, especially the footnotes. I look forward to the next instalments with excitement and especially to your forthcoming publication about Shaykh Aḥmad.
I wondered if it is possible for you to include the arabic of the hemistiches of Imam Hasan (a) and the following verses of Imam Ali (a), possibly as an additional footnote? May Allah continue to assist you in your endeavours of this great service to the Shaykh, The Ahlul Bayt and to the deen of Islam that you are engaged in, ameen!
Salam Alaykum, I’ve left a comment on facebook, but I came to put ut here upon your request.
I have personally read many books in regards to that topic, and I have nothing to add, but I’d like to point out a point which is that there is almost a consensus among researchers that the opposition against the Shaykh started with the Takfir led by Mulla Baraghani.
But, recently during my readings I’ve noticed something else wherein a scholar from Yazd is said to be the first one to start the opposition the Shaykh when he was settling there, but his opposing, evidently, failed to defame the great position the Shaykh had in the community of Yazd during that time. I’ve read that in a lesser-known scholarly biographical compilation, entitled Mir’at al-Sharq (مرآة الشرق).
The opposition of that scholar, whose name is Sayed Ahmad Ardakani Yazdi, probably played no role in the Shaykh’s later life, thus that man is forgotten in the studies about the Shaykh’s life, and even in the works written by the Shaykh himself as well as his pupils who wrote about his biography.
@abuzaynab
Wa 3alaykum salaam wr
Thanks for the comment, and for the kind words: Much appreciated!
================
I wondered if it is possible for you to include the arabic of the hemistiches of Imam Hasan (a)
================
Your wish is granted, may Allah Bless you 🙂
@Ithna Ashari:
Wa 3alaykum salaam wr
Sayyid Ahmad Ardakani Yazdi is mentioned in more famous sources as well, such as طبقات أعلام الشيعة. Before Baraghani, Shaykh Ahmad, like numerous other great scholars, faced opposition and disagreements in certain quarters; there was nothing unusual about that in scholarly circles.
One example stands out: At a much earlier time, one of the grand-nephews of Shaykh Yusuf Bahrani had a serious disagreement with al-Awhad during his stay in Bahrayn and gave our Shaykh a hard time. That night he saw Imam Hadi (S) and complained to him of how he was being treated by “the people.” The Imam said,
“Ignore them and stay as you are.”
Then Imam Hadi (S) gave Shaykh Ahmad the aforementioned twelve licenses (ijāzāt), one license from each imām.
On the other hand, the accounts do not tell us that the Shaykh was declared a kafir by his opponent. Similarly, just because Sayyid Ardakani Yazdi did not join the rest of his colleagues in giving Shaykh Ahmad a warm welcome as did other scholars of Yazd, it doesn’t mean that he declared the Shaykh a kafir.
So we have to distinguish between scholarly disagreements or personal animosity, on the one hand, and takfīr on the other.
Thank you very much for your comment and constructive contribution to the discussion!
Asalaam alaykum Shaykh!
Thank you so much! May Allah bless and protect you in all of your endeavours, ameen!