May 20 , 2004
Dave,
I see in al-Sadr not so much
a grab for political power (in the sense of making trying to get a piece of the
larger political pie) as him trying grab territory (or influence in that
territory) from a very old-Middle Eastern (and short-sighted) perception of the
political realities as they are emerging. Al-Sadr seems to want to maintain a
hold on this territory regardless of who is ultimately in authority, in the
same way that was the fragmentary status quo political nature of the Muslim
world under the Caliph in Istanbul. That is, the Caliph had “total authority”
over the Muslim world, but that was an illusion; the various rulers of each
country “controlled” an even larger and more vast realm of petty tyrants who
actually ruled in their particular territory. It made little difference, to
these petty tyrants, as to who was on the throne of their own country or who
was the Caliph; those who “ruled” the petty rulers had to deal with those petty
tyrants on their own terms. The political realities were actually an inverted
pyramid
I think that
this was the inadvertent message that the US sent to the non-Western cognizant
Muslims when it allowed the warlords of Afghanistan (Didn’t Edgar Rice
Burroughs write that book? Or was it Kipling?) governorship in their own
territories. For us, it was a matter of political expediency— get the
“civilized” southern part of Afghanistan up and running democratically and
leave dealing with the warlord problem to the Afghanis themselves. I think that
we were right to do this; engaging in a war with them now would bring to that
part of the country nothing but instability in a nation that is already in
shambles. However, to a lot of Muslims, it looks a lot more like we are carving
territories up piecemeal for the rule of the petty tyrants again; that is, if
you have no idea what a modern democracy looks like, and most of these people
don’t.
Seeing this, al-Sadr’s little
power play, and— once he had entrenched his men in the holy cities where we are
loathe to go— suddenly (as he has recently done) make a magnanimous gesture
about “sharing” those cities (and his control over the territories they
encompass) with the civil authority makes a certain amount of sense. He is
basically saying, “I don’t care who rules Iraq, but I will allow you to deal with me in this area.” His sights are set awfully
low to suggest he is aware of the larger playing field of realpolitik, otherwise he would be brokering for authority in the
Iraqi government instead of basically acceding them power while making himself
the man they have to deal with there.
I think he is a minor-leaguer compared to what we are about to
see in the Iraqi realpolitik arena,
to say the least. The Muslims are not all ignorant of Western politics, and so
many of the more dangerous ones were exiled to Europe; they are sure to have
figured out how the game can be played in the emerging Iraqi democracy.
Considering the sorts of things they have taken to in the past hundred years
from the West (Ba’athism is based on a Fascist model; there is nothing like
that in Islamic history) my heart fairly palpitates at the prospect of what is
coming down that particular pipe as we speak.
However, in the larger scheme of things, it really makes no
difference whether or not al-Sadr
himself has made any real claims to being the Imam (and in Khomeni’s
defense—and this is about the only time
you will ever hear me defending Khomeni—he did not originate the claims that he
was the Imam; it was just something he, at first, decided to take advantage of,
though I have the sneaking suspicion that he came to believe it himself as time
went on,) because, as you said, Islam is supposed to “extrude an Imam from
somewhere” and this is very much a case of the “Prophetic Nature of History”
that the Muslims engage in, and since it makes such a lovely segue to the rest
of your letter, let’s just swing right on in here.
The “Prophetic
Nature of History” is a centerpiece of the Muslim religion, and, at least in
one of its aspects, I can see some value in it. The Muslim world has been by
and large (up to the 20th Century at least) devotees of accuracy in
their historical texts. Western historians are often amazed at just how high a
bar the Muslims historians had set regarding their chronicling of history, and
how, by and large, unbiased their recitation of the historical facts was. This
is because Prophetic Tradition holds that to see full works of God, one must
study history over time and therefore an accurate chronicle of history is
tantamount. This is why, in “Islam, my Islam,” when you wondered aloud about
how… disinterested… the writer is about pursuing certain things (the death of
Ali, for example) it is because the writer (who was, if I remember correctly, a
Wahhabi and therefore a Sunni as well) is not allowed to openly remark on the
facts as they stand (that is, whether Ali had it coming or not) in a historical
treatise. The only thing left for the writer is to just pass over those facts
as quickly as possible and concentrate more on those things that his bias
prefers.
As for the purpose of looking at the work of the Divine in the
profane world, I mean in the sense of appreciating
it: well, I don’t have a problem with this. Like I said, watching the effects
that The Passion of the Christ— a simulacra, even, of the Divine—had on
the world, like dropping a pebble in the water, is an interesting thing to
watch and appreciate. Those effects, outside of banal political ramifications
in the US, have little to do with me,
but they are interesting, and they do
point to what the Truth does to the web of Deceit that the Adversary has
created when it comes into contact with it. But, really, that is about all I
can say for it; it has a value, but not much. To, however— and I think this is
more what the Muslims have in mind with it— look at this “Prophetic History” as
“prophetic,” that is, to say: “Well, this
worked in 1611 and if we do it again, such and such will happen” or to attempt
to divine the future from it— well, that is nothing more than an attempt to
conjure with the Divine— at best, trying to reap the wind; at worst, reaping a
whirlwind.
That is one aspect of the “Prophetic Tradition of History.” The
other aspect, however, belies a fundamental problem I have with the Islamic
religion entirely, and this is in their belief in the supernal nature of the
prophets themselves, and in particular that these natures are from the prophets. While I might be able
to go along (theoretically) with the idea of the “Mohammedan Light,” the idea
that it originated from Mohammed himself is, I believe, an absurdity, and, by
the yardstick of the fundamental nature of Islam itself, idolatry. And yet,
this is a centerpiece to their religious thought. And it is this “Prophetic
Nature” that allows the “Mantle of the Prophet” to migrate (as you noticed)
from one person to the other. In this sense, Islam is— literally— to “extrude
an Imam from somewhere” as part of the “Prophetic” process. The 12th
Imam is a “Prophetic” entity that exists “outside time” and can, apparently,
migrate into whomever it wishes at will. This is the other aspect of “Prophetic
History,” which entails the process of “Prophetic” entities who work their will
upon the Islamic populace at a transhistorical level. I said I had a problem
with this? Maybe I understated that. However, since I am not a Muslim, this is
hardly any of my concern.
Which brings us to Khidr: I think you are mistaking me with the
myriad of Islamic scholars and hangers-on who the author of the article (and in
this I do apologize for the… inadequacy…
of the material. I had looked over it and, while it was a comprehensive overview of the various Khidr legends, I had
not noticed the “Joseph Campbell-isms” that predominate the presentation. I
guess am now so used to that sort of thing I just skate right on past it
anymore. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t jump on the “Trickster” comparison
of Elias. And no, I don’t know where they come up with this stuff) based his
information on. As I said in the earlier letter (and I get the impression that
the final page of my letter must have gotten lost in the mass of endnotes from
the article since you don’t address my “take” on that part of the sura
“strictly” from the Koran) there is a great deal of difference between those
who practice Sufism and those who study it. I have found it useful to apply a
different and (and, so far as I know, entirely my own) translation (at least in
spirit) of la illaha il Allah: “There
is God and there is everything else” as a sort of Occam’s Razor to a great deal
of Sufi (and traditional Islamic or even Christian) literature. I know my Lord.
Using that as an absolute valuation, then everything else quickly falls into
varying degrees of valuelessness, and that includes Khidr, the angels, and the
prophets. Ultimately, when one finds their Lord as an absolute, then all that
is left is to find what actual value these things may have. Certainly, they have a purpose, which is to fulfill God’s
Will, but, removed from God, they are like a puppet without a hand inside. It is
the God they work in behalf of that I am interested in.
Now, relative to Khidr in particular, I was simply passing
along an article on what is traditionally held to be the guide to Musa at the
seaside,
since, really, it is no sweat off of my back if it was Khidr or not (though his
alleged nature makes that implication an interesting one.) I find the assertion
that it was Khidr a little suspect,
considering how many times I have heard someone assert that it is based on
“Hadīth tradition” and yet they never quote
those Hadīth themselves (and leaving aside my reservations about Muslims
basing anything solely on the
Hadīth to begin with.) But then again, I find the Sūrat al-Kahf to be
a little suspect itself, especially when that sura begins with:
“All praise be to God
who has revealed to His votary
the Book which is free from all obliquity..”
and
then proceeds to do nothing but spin out one oblique tale after another (“The
Cave of the Sleepers,” from which the sura takes its title, is a peculiar
inclusion, since it is— and quite literally— a story from ancient Greece: The
Seven Sleepers at Ephesus.) But, once again, I am not a Muslim, so this really
isn’t any of my business either.
And now, to Rahīm.
I have no idea just to what extent this plays in traditional Islam, but
relative to the article, the guy’s explanation leaves a little something to be
desired. God, as you point out, cannot be a Rahīm and Irfan Omar’s own distinction between rahma and Rahīm: “the superlative degree of which is applied to God
alone” contradicts the idea of the article (a) being necessary or even
useful. I don’t know if this is some mistake Omar made or some crossed wire in
his academic little brain, but certainly God cannot be a(n) anything.
However, what seems to bother you is the idea of “God’s
attributes start being considered as separate beings or incarnations” and in
this I imagine you will simply have to remain disturbed. For Sufis, God is
infinite and absolute in Himself.
However, in His interaction with us, these Attributes are as sunlight from the
sun; they are not God, but they are of God.
Since it is by these Attributes (and in this I think the Holy Spirit is a good
comparison) that He deals with us, everything: the angels, the Adversary, all
of these things are merely puppets, as I said before (lacking a better phrase)
that are imbued with the Divinity of these Attributes and without them they
simply are not. However, one does not worship these Attributes any more than a
sensible person would worship the Holy Spirit; you worship the God whose Spirit
this is.
I agree that there is a danger in mistaking those Attributes
for God. I’m quite sure, in fact, that there are people who make that mistake
all the time. I am also quite sure there are people who worship the Holy Spirit
and, for that matter, Jesus as some co-equal to God Himself. (In fact I know
there are.) However, there is not a thing in this world that I can do about it.
One hopes that God is understanding about all of this; I mean, they mean well,
for the most part. But in the end, I know who my Lord is. That, really, is all
I have to go on. Everything else is everything else.
I hope this clarifies things somewhat. It was, I must say, a
lot of fun watching you take your rapier to the text, but, I’m afraid I am standing over here. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Finally, I guess if this is “likely to be of interest to future
Cerebus readers,” I might want to break down and ask a question about the book:
“So, um... when’s the next issue coming out? I mean, you’re two months late
already…”
God
Bless,
D.B.
Little
