Rabia of Basra

Individualism is how one comes to understand and experience  the most intimate spiritual realization with divinity. Personal acts of devotion coupled with charity reveal one's personal interaction with divinity, which we expect to be cheerful with a note of contentment upon the wearer of the cloak of sanctity. If one's God is compassionate and merciful, loving and kind, then the devotee would most certainly manifest these features in their own personal life. Their demeanor would be calm and accepting, and such a person would eschew harshness in all its forms. The face of true faith, regardless of the faith path one is following, thus should reflect the soul searching, the love affair and the longing one experiences with one's beloved.

Organized religion imposes ritual and rules which are to be obeyed by a community and if necessary, the devotee punished somehow if these acts of organized piety are ignored. While many can be and are moved by organized, massed acts of piety, any religious teaching acknowledges each individual and their personal path to divinity, even though that person is part of a huge group al seemingly seeking the same thing. Often however, the group effort becomes just a ritual to be performed with everyone following the same rules, creating a group think that turns fellow worshippers into group spies, who are ever ready to reprimand the individual who might step out of bounds. For the spiritual traveler seeking the higher callings and realms of divinity, such an atmosphere of rigidity and ritual become a bore, and the individual becomes spiritually depressed. Enter then, the mystical path.

Rabia of Basra was born in what is now Iraq somewhere between the years 714 and 718 AD, in the city of Basra, hence her name. This era was a time when Islam as a religion was still in its infancy, barely one hundred years after the death of its founder Mohammed. There were no Islamic schools of law and thought yet created, therefore the religion was not yet formalized. The Quran said by Muslim sources to traditionally have been compiled about forty years after Mohammed, may not have been fully compiled as of this time either, if we are to believe some recent historians who question the long accepted Muslim narrative about the compiling of their holy scripture. Nonetheless, modern historians have shed new light on the history of early Islam, quoting not the already popular Muslim sources but the writings and observations of those who came in contact with the Arabs who themselves were building an empire, namely the Umayyad caliphate. Historian Tom Holland notes in his studies that one cannot find any evidence of the use of the term Muslim or Islam, nor mentions of Mohammed in the first 100 years after he supposedly lived, leading us to ponder the theory that Mohammed and Islam are creations of the Arabs themselves during this time of their military and political rise on the world scene. Just as none can actually prove that Abraham, Moses, or Jesus actually lived when they did as all we have are the written accounts of what supposedly took place, in the form of stories, so none can prove that Mohammed actually lived in Arabia, having died as is claimed in 632 AD. Of course Muslims take offense with this just as Christians might be offended about the question of Jesus' reality. But faith is much more than supposed facts or theories which have been cemented in people's minds by scribes working for political minded rulers seeking to unite and kingdom or empire utilizing religion to achieve that. As in the ancient mythologies, there is the hero who does something profound in his or her day and leaves deeds to be retold by others who thought those deeds and the person worthy of remembrance. Like all the mythical heroes of the ancient epics, these special beings may have actually lived, or not. What is important is the message they share and represent, and the teachings which are attributed to them. This is why such belief and devotion is called faith, and not fact, and it is faith that guides and illuminates whole societies.

The Umayyads burst out of Arabia a few decades after the death of Mohammed, after that is, fighting a civil war among themselves for the control of what was supposedly Mohammed's domain. His career was one of struggling to bring the word of Abraham to his semi nomadic and pagan people. This was not an intellectual society where he could persuade by debate and discussion the people to his teachings, but one in which oral poets sang songs of the deeds of warriors who engaged in bloody raids on each other's tribal dwellings, stealing camels and sheep and sometimes women and children to be kept for ransom or for slavery. Mohammed fought for ten years, then finally entered Mecca and proclaimed the one God of Abraham for his people. The pagan Meccans were given the choice to convert, which of course they did. But their descendants did not forget that they were the lords of Mecca and once were the powerful rulers of that trading city. They were not going to forget their embarrassment by Mohammed, and after he died they began to bicker as to who would rule the new unified Arab state. A civil war broke out, which saw many of the members of Mohammed's family killed by the descendants of the Meccan pagan families. However, all during the time of Mohammed's wars with the pagans, there were supposedly times when his speeches and sermons taught actual faith and religion, charity and compassion. Both the spiritual and political aspects of that early time became part of what the world would eventually know of as Islam. The victorious Umayyads, utilizing Mohammed's genius for unifying diverse and feuding tribes, created a new unifying factor in the form of a religion, and marched on to conquer an empire that would eventually exceed the combined size of the Roman and Persian empires. They would rule much of the known world from Spain to China, and in that empire dozens of peoples and ideologies would rub elbows and create new forms of thought and faiths. In history, societies become distilled like sweet wine, and eventually give off a new taste and aroma, but only after the harshness of military campaigns and political intrigue.

In this early period of Islamic civilization, the cities of that Umayyad empire teamed with people who clung to an assortment of religious faiths including various Christian sects, Jews, Zoroastrians, Manichaeans, Sabeans and others. A booming economy and the order set in place by the Umayyads in the fertile crescent region, heretofore devastated by centuries of wars between the Roman and Persian empires, was welcome indeed. The new religion of the conquerors, Islam, had few rules and laws. The 'people of the book' as Christians, Jews and Sabeans were considered, paid a poll tax for protection and thus were free to keep their religious practices. While this sounds odd today and would eventually become corrupt and oppressive under Islamic rule, paying to keep the right to pray as one wishes for the time was viewed as novel. If one studies the religious history of early America, we would note that under British colonial law all subjects who were non members of the Anglican Church had to pay a poll tax for the right to pray in their own tradition. If a minster or deacon of some subject church died, the congregation had ninety days to replace him, and if none could be found all the congregants had to convert to the Anglican faith. Thank the founding fathers for their revolutionary views about religion!

Rabia was born to a poor family. Her name is simple, as it means the fourth, as she was the fourth child in the family. Her birth has become tied up with prophecies and dreams, but of course this can be but mythology. We do know that she became interested in spirituality, her city an important port which saw people of various faiths and ethnicities interacting and sharing their views. A famine overtook Basra when she was a teenager, and she went into the desert in imitation of the Christian mystics and became an ascetic. it should be remembered that Basra as a port saw ships coming in from the Indian ocean, with Hindus and Buddhists among the crews. She developed what was called 'pure and unconditional love for divinity', among a number of other ascetics which were blossoming at the time in the region. Just as Christianity developed out of a desire for Jews to attain to a personal relationship with the Holy One rather than depend on strict laws and rules, so did adherents of this new and simple monotheistic Arabian religion want something more from their contact with a stern Allah of the desert. These mystics became eventually known as Sufis, so called for the simple woolen cloaks they wore in preference over silken robes and the jewelry the upper classes would lavish as a result of their imperialist success. These mystics were not interested in the political and military tales of Mohammed's wars with the pagans, but rather sought the spiritual teachings he spoke of in his sermons, and those of other religious communities which he himself acknowledged. This of course was contrary to the empire building Islamism of the conquerors, and this contrast of opposites has been within Islam ever since. 

The Quran can be read as a literal reading, word for word being the very word of God, and these words are meant for all time. Thus the jihad can be called by imams and the verses that tell of the war against the pagans of Mecca repeated, and were repeated for centuries thereafter. But the Sufis saw the holy words differently. If Allah is vast then so must be his words, so vast that each verse in the Quran, the Sufis claim, has eighteen thousand meanings. People interpreting the holy book like this have little time for war and conquest, not to mention that they read the verses about Mohammed's jihad campaigns as pertinent to their time and place, and these events happened, in Rabia's day, a hundred years before.

So the message of these mystics was one of love and devotion to God and his signs. Service to his creatures was considered a form of devotion, giving away one's wealth or even a simple smile could be charity. Rabia, through her acts of prayer, fasting and devotion, was in love with God and all associated with him. When asked if she prayed for a reward she said she 'desired that she be singled out on the day of resurrection by Mohammed himself, who would then announce to all they should take note of the piety of this woman, who inspires people to do the same'. I find it interesting here that while literalist Muslims, living according to the rules and laws established centuries after Rabia in the form of what is known as Sharia, follow a hard and stern pagan slaying Mohammed who married a young teen when he was fifty, Rabia sees something else in Mohammed. She understand the man as a teacher and unifier, not a military leader. And she accepts the essence of Mohammed the man, not Mohammed the divine being, which Muslims have turned him into. In his career, Mohammed pointed to the worship of God, not worship of himself. He was a special being to Rabia, no doubt, but he was not the object of her affection and love, which was reserved for Allah alone. Rabia was ahead of her time, in that she was able to interpret her faith as a viable, loving and caring faith rather than as a politicized set of harsh dogmas meant to encourage rigidity and imbalance in the Muslim community and the world. 

While imams throughout the world today still preach hatred of Shaitan, the Devil, Rabia ignored such evaluations. She was famously asked if she harbored hate in her heart for the Devil, to which she replied; "Only the love of God fills my being, therefore there is no room there for hatred of the Devil or anything else. 

One day she was seen running through the city carrying a buket of water in one hand and a pot of fire in the other. When asked what she was up to, she said that she wanted "to put out the fires of hell and burn down the rewards of paradise, as both these things are obstacles to knowing and loving God". She wanted to worship God for what God is, the source of all love and beauty, and not for a reward or for honor. When the great Sheikh al Basri asked her how she was able to perform miracles and cure the sick through her intimacy with God she responded "you know of the how, but I know of the howless".

For Rabia, God was everywhere and everything, and since this was what she believed, then harming people or creatures or committing violence had no place in the world. The mosque and the church, synagogue and temple all vibrated with the same name and light of the divine holy one, thus all were a brother and sisterhood of lovers. She is considered to be the first Sufi mystic, and set much in the foundations of what would become the great mystical paths of the Islamic world. Indeed Rabia, love conquers all.

A lovely modern song based on the words of Rabia of Basra, by Ani Zonneveld...

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIB0r1GLzwk

The Little Drummer Boy... A Christmas Song and It's Possible Mystical Affiliations

The season of the Christmas holidays is a joyous one among Christians all around the world. The followers of Christ celebrate his birth on the supposed date of December 25th, or on January 6th in the Orthodox church. The birth of this being to a virgin named Mary in the land of Roman Judea is heralded as the coming of peace and good tidings, as Jesus is viewed as the Messiah foretold who will teach humanity how to overcome fear and ego, evil and sadness by attaining a sense of God consciousness. Christmas is considered a miraculous event, and the birth itself a miracle, since Mary was a virgin. 

Muslims also know of this event. In Surah Maryam of the Quran this birth is also explained and it is no less miraculous than the story in the Gospels. Mary is virgin and  barren. She asks the angel who heralds the news how she could have a child when "no man hath toucheth her". The angel replies that nothing is impossible for her Lord. Mary is imbued with the Holy Spirit of God and becomes pregnant. Jesus is born, and the miracles continue as some neighbors spread gossip that Mary may not be virgin after all. Jesus speaks from the cradle and tells these people that his Mother is the purest of women and to stop their vain talk. 

Whether one is Christian or Muslim, we can assume that this birth, whenever or wherever if indeed it did take place, must have been a cosmic event and happening. Some call Jesus the Son of God and some say he was a great prophet and Messiah, but the fact remains that he was born miraculously, both parties can agree that the birth was miraculous as stated in both the Quran and the Gospels. Such miraculous events have their share of miraculous stories that accompany the event, whether true or not. None of these stories take away from the miracle, but in fact embellish the miracle. And when such miracles move us to faith and devotion, the stories that spring up, whether they really happened or not, inspire us to more faith and put us on the search for the secrets of the life of the soul.

In this spirit is the story of one such individual, a simple drummer boy. According to the apocryphal tale, a boy was informed of the birth of Jesus by three wise men whom became known as the Three Kings, the Magi, who were seeking out the place where the promised Messiah was born. They advised the young boy to visit also. When the lad arrived at the manger in the stable he saw people gathered, gazing at the miraculous boy and his adoring mother. The wise men brought gifts, exotic spices from far away lands. The young boy had no gifts to offer, he lamented. He said he was a poor boy, like baby Jesus born in a manger, as well. One of the wise Magi told him the lad could play his drum for the baby. Even a smile is an offering and a gift. So the boy asks Mary if this is acceptable. Mary approves, he plays the drum, and a feeling of unity and harmony between the people and even the animals of the stable who keep time with their nodding heads emanates from the simple barn. The baby Jesus smiles and the gift is accepted. The young drummer boy is content. There is a feeling of peace and fulfillment in the description of this story.

It is only a tale and we cannot prove if it ever really happened. But I have always been curious about this tale because there are aspects of it that have always puzzled me. First of all, let's talk about the song that popularized the tale. 'The Little Drummer Boy' is an American Christmas carol which was composed by Katherine K. Davis. The Trapp Family Singers did a recording of it in 1955 and the Simeone Chorale recorded their version which became very popular in 1958. The origins of the song and the story was said to be based on an older Czech version, though no version has ever been discovered or found, though many still maintain it to be of Czech origin. 

While it may have a Czech connection, the song may have an older history. In the 12th century there was a popular story in France about a poor juggler who performed in front of a statue of Mary. Supposedly, the statue smiled at the juggler. This became the basis for an opera in 1902. However, the similarity of the story about a performer ties us in with another fact of history. It was from France that the Crusaders first set out to conquer the Holy Land, and France was at the forefront of that endeavor. It is also known that many ideas, foods, customs and importnat scientific knowledge was brought back from the Middle East at that time. We know that Europe benefitted from the Crusades, that the knowledge they discovered there in the Middle East and through contact with Islamic civilization in Spain and Sicily enlightened their world and brought Europe out from the centuries of darkness that engulfed the continent in the era prior to the Crusades. In all human interactions, in war and in peace, ideas get transplanted and exchanged. This exchange includes arts, stories and religious knowledge as well. 

Being exposed to 11th and 12th century Islamic and eastern Christian culture, the 'Franks' as they were called discovered and created new stories to support their faith and their devotions. Surely, the Franks met some of those religious men and women called Sufis while occupying and living in the Frankish Kingdom of Jerusalem in the Levant. We read about, for example, Shamsi Tabrizi, Rumi's teacher, playing chess with a Frankish boy in Syria, and about Christian doctors who were physicians to the Emir of Antioch who sat with Frankish priests and taught them the ways of what was then modern medicine. There were countless meetings and interactions between various groups of peoples. Certainly many varied religious experiences were viewed and made impressions on the new conquerors. Many stories were shared and told as well, and these experiences...just like the dome and the arch, the concept of zero and the love song...were all eventually brought back to France. 

From a Sufi perspective perhaps we can dissect the story of the drummer boy and see elements of what may have been Islamic popular practice in the 12th century, which rubbed elbows with eastern Christian and Jewish custom. As I mentioned, both Muslims and Christians proclaim the birth of Jesus to a virgin as a miraculous event. The wise men were known to be of the 'Magi'. These were Zoroastrian sages from Persia who traveled far to witness the birth of the new messenger, according to legend. They are also known as the Three Kings, and have been portrayed as royalty. But historically speaking, no Persian or Roman emperor would be caught visiting a lowly born boy born in a stable, let alone wandering about in a rival foreign empire without any kind of guard ordained for the visitor's protection. I believe there is another explanation to the title 'Three Kings'. In Sufi terminology, highly influenced by Zoroastrian and Manichaean traditions, a 'king' is one who has renounced the world and it's riches. When one achieves this level in life as they tread upon the Sufi path they are granted the epithet 'king of poverty' or 'fukurah'. Just as Jesus renounced all his possessions, as John the Baptist did, as the Sufi saints Rabia of Basra and Mansur Hallaj did and as Francis of Assisi and Mother Teresa would do,  these kings of spiritual poverty renounced the word and earned the title. It may indeed be a title from the Zoroastrian tradition, as many titles, customs and spiritual practices in Judaism, Christianity and Islam are to be found, influenced from the state religion of Persia at the time. Thus these sages, holy men from afar, came to Bethlehem to witness and partake in a cosmic event. The notion that light enters the world in the form of Jesus, an important Christian concept, comes directly from the Zoroastiran and Manichaean  teachings about the light  of God coming into the world to dispel the darkness, and Iranians to this day celebrate 'Shab i Yalda' on the eve of the Winter equinox.  

The idea of playing a drum for a sleeping baby might seem, to say the least, odd. Most of the recordings of the popular song use a snare drum, as those heard in a modern marching band. But there were no snare drums in the 12th century, at least not like the modern models we know of today. Why would Mary approve of some kid making a racket while her new born baby is sleeping in her arms? The explanation is that the boy didn't have anything else to offer, that is true. But what kind of drum did the boy really play, if he did? He may have played what is known in the middle east as a 'naqqara', a single bowl shaped drum of metal or clay with a skin stretched over it, played with two sticks. Or was the drum a dumbek, the goblet shaped drum found all over the region? Maybe it was a frame drum, the daf, played with two hands. At any rate, I like to think that the boy played his drum keeping time 'with the ox and the lamb' as the song proclaims, with those who were gathered praising God in a mystical music making situation, in the manner of David chanting his pslams and dancing in spiritual ecstacy. The rhythm of the song, modern as the melody may be, is steady and remains stationary as in ancient music: rum pa-pa rum pa rum pa-pa rum...rum pa-pa rum pa rum pa-pa rum...as one hears in a Sufi sema ceremony. This is called the rhythm of the heart. The rhythm and the participants become one with God and with each other. The song says that even the animals participated, describing a cosmic event. Why else would a child play a drum for a celebrated baby that would cause him to smile approvingly of this poor orphan's simple musicianship? Something great and spiritual was happening here. 

Music, practices, eastern terminology from the Islamic, Christian and Zoroastrian traditions can be found in this song which is a popular 20th century composition. But the composition and it's subjects are all from another time. My personal belief leans on the 12 century French connection. Beyond the theological differences between Christianity and Islam, beyond the song being a modern Christmas carol or a medieval story, beyond all connections that we try to invent and create, there is the song and the spirit behind it. Poverty is riches, knowledge is faith and music brings all people...and animals..together in love, the most powerful of forces that exist. 

Yes I believe the ox and lamb kept time while the drummer boy kept the rhythm for the cosmic sema of the century. A miraculous event, known only to the wise men who communicated with their Lord- and a few shepherds if we are to believe the Gospels, men steeped often in deep contemplation who knew the secrets of abandonment and gratitude. May we all be blessed with such devotion, no matter who or where we are at the moment. And may we never loose that desire to believe in miracles. They happen in myriad ways in our lives and in the lives of others around us. That we are alive is a miracle. What more proof do we need? Breathe! I wish you all a very, Merry Christmas season. Eyvallah.   

Unrequited Love, Misunderstood

We sometimes walk upon a path in our youth that we believe is our future, for we are encouraged to follow our dreams and visions and never give up on that quest which has burned hot and bright within our breasts. Nothing however is permanent, and things unfailingly change. We must be prepared to acknowledge this fact of imminent transcendence and see the source of our joy in a different light with an alternative understanding of who and what that joy may be. The word 'enlightenment' itself describes the shining, fiery reality of revealed truth which, limited by through conditioning and adherence and acceptance of mediocre tradition and belief, can only become a roaring fire when we let go of that which we stubbornly perceived as truth, and surrender to the reality of our existence. 

You know as well as I, beloved

My heart was captivated by your beauty                        

Smitten one late Summer's day

As the misty air and warm breeze

Which I thought to be your breath upon my neck

Was but the approaching hurricane

The light that shone and blinded me

Beckoning my soul to follow in your path

I tried to embrace that light...

Only to fall down upon myself, stumbling like a lame ox

Your name, oh, your name always was on my lips

Day after day, year after year

In my mouth, in my nostrils did I intake and fill my lungs with joy

Swallowing your essence, whole

On the exhale you left
And ignored me, as lovers often do

After they had their way with
A naive being abused like a dish rag

Thrown like a used towel
Into the garbage bin

Family and friends, Mother, Father, Sister and Brother I left behind

Believing you were my future
My everything
My all encompassing love

That we would share my living days On Earth together
As one, as lovers Forever entwined in eternal rapture...
How naive was I to think 

I knew the future, a tomorrow based
On promises made in holy books and ancient scriptures...

Wrong, I was wrong!

To believe that I had found true love

Who did I think I was?
Some supreme deity ruling an imaginary universe?

No, that title is reserved for you, and only you

To be fair, you never promised me tomorrow...

I only assumed that my sacrifice in this, my only life, would suffice

I loved you, your prophets, your books and your music, your children
But you loved me back with imposed limits
Which eventually tore my soul and broke my heart

The strings of the lute you played, that lute...me, my being

Spiced food savory and sweet, intricate kilims, tapestry and poetry

Reclining together with you on pillows of silk

Savoring sweet pastries, sipping red wine
Deep into the night, the Moon was our lamp
The nightingale our minstrel, a serenade

Words of wisdom and joy, and a warning to would-be lovers...

Do not love too much, lest you be disappointed

Slender minarets and tall towers, arches and gateways to nowhere

Miniature paintings and even tinier, gently wrought earrings
Of dazzling pearls and gold, fine silver

Your people, with raven hair and even stature

Handsome faces and subtle, androgynous shapes

The eyebrow of the mistress, darkened with kohl

Engulfed in robes sewn in paradise

Beckoning me with beauty amid voices of song and praise
The scent of musk and lavender permeating the air

I gave it my all, every atom and every minute cell of my being

I loved you with all my love, all my heart and soul

All the desire that could be programmed into any being

But, who was I to think you would choose me alone?

Nay, I led myself astray, into an abyss of no return

I dared to love and yes, I dared to see the face of the beloved

Like Moses on the mountain, I stared into the face of the Sun

Only to be dazzled by your beauty, tempting me, enticing me...

Refusing me

So, I take my leave of you at this time

For I cannot think, concentrate, nor calculate
The immeasurable cruelty of spurning

One as myself, so in love with you

So enamored with the thought of those erotic dreams
Heavenly delight and visions

Spiritual oneness, I gave it all, and all the world thought me mad

I left them behind, those I loved and who sincerely loved me 
But you seemingly cared not

What was my crime?

My transgression is that I thought I knew, but knew nothing

Our love has to wait, for infinite knowledge belongeth not to me 

For to reach the light I must travel alone, in the darkness
Through the night

Only the thought of you and the joy that awaits me upon my arrival

At your door is what keeps me alive, hopeful, in anticipation

Please keep the fire lit so I lose not my way

I cannot afford another loss, my beloved

Another defeat would ruin me, and kill my soul

This is all I possess now, the memory of our time together

For the years have gone by and youth has been spent
In the search, the quest, wasted days and empty nights

Forgive me for my ignorance, but there is a truth
I dare finally speak aloud...

You are powerless as am I in the shadow of the darkness

My soul shall be yours, forever, on the wedding day

When you finally make up your mind and decide

To take me, to choose me, finally as your lover

For all eternity

And I await the embrace of your arms of crystalline light beams

And the essence of your eternal Sun
As in the meantime, I damn the dark lord who hath led me astray
And I am all the more strengthened as a warrior
In your legions of light, a bringer of woe to the forces of Ahriman
It wasn't your fault, not at all, for now I understand...
In the end, I am the victor. 

Copyright, Ismail Butera  2023