MSR XX 2017 Gardiner
MSR XX 2017 Gardiner
MSR XX 2017 Gardiner
esoteric science of letters more accessible to the cosmopolitan learned classes and
political elites of the period. Its occult content, however, imposed special require-
ments on the author regarding his qualifications to synthesize such knowledge—
requirements he attempted to satisfy through an account of his occult training
that combines attention to formal book-transmission practices and descriptions of
various visionary encounters with the Prophet and other spiritual figures. More
broadly, it is argued that al-Bisṭāmī’s writings indicate that the Mamluk cities
of the late eighth/fourteenth and early ninth/fifteenth centuries were home to a
thriving occult scene that recently was being transformed by elite patronage and
increased interest among cosmopolitan intellectuals, and that his account of his
own readerly initiation into lettrism reflected the new, decidedly bookish occult-
ism that had been taking root in the learned culture of the period. The conclusion
discusses the importance of these developments in relation to other trends in the
late-Mamluk intellectual scene, particularly with regard to manuscript culture,
and to the longer history of the occult sciences in Islam.
The place of the occult sciences in Mamluk-era thought and culture has been
explored only a little in recent decades. Writing in the 1950s, the Belgian Orien-
talist Armand Abel argued that a widespread embrace of occultism by Mamluk-
era learned elites—particularly of the works of the controversial Ifriqiyan cum
Cairene Sufi Abū al-ʿAbbās Aḥmad al-Būnī (d. 622/1225 or 630/1232–33)—was
symptomatic of a general intellectual decline in the period, an assessment typical
of the dim view of the occult sciences taken by many mid-century scholars.2 The
field of Mamluk intellectual history has since largely moved on from the nar-
rative of “postclassical” Islamic decline that underpinned Abel’s thesis, but his
observations on the prominence of learned occultism in the period seem to have
been abandoned along with it. On the rare occasions Mamluk occultism has been
addressed since, it is usually relegated to the ill-defined realm of “popular” cul-
ture—astrologers casting horoscopes for women in city sūqs, unscrupulous Sufis
dealing in talismans, etc.3—and, contra Abel, it is often implied that critiques of
occultism by figures such as Ibn Taymīyah, Ibn Khaldūn, and Ibn Qayyim al-
Jawzīyah were representative of the majority view on such matters among edu-
2
Armand Abel, “La place des sciences occultes dans la décadence,” in Classicisme et déclin cul-
turel dans l’histoire de l’islam (Paris, 1957), 291–318. The dim view of occultism among twentieth-
century scholars has been the topic of a number of recent scholarly works, among the most
important of which are Randall Styers, Making Magic: Religion, Magic, and Science in the Modern
World (Oxford, 2004), and Wouter Hanegraaff, Esotericism and the Academy: Rejected Knowledge in
Western Culture (Cambridge, 2012).
3
Yahya Michot, “Ibn Taymiyya on Astrology: Annotated Translations of Th ree Fatwas,” in Magic
and Divination in Early Islam, ed. E. Savage-Smith (Aldershot, 2004), 279ff; Stefan Wild, “Jugglers
and Fraudulent Sufis,” in Proceedings of the VIth Congress of Arabic and Islamic Studies, Visby 13–16
August, Stockholm 17–19 August, 1972, ed. Frithiof Rundgren (Stockholm, 1975), 58–63.
cated Muslims of the time.4 George Saliba, for example, in his influential study of
the social status of astrologers in the medieval Muslim world, repeats as fact Ibn
Khaldūn’s tendentious assertion that, in his time, “[o]ne could study [astrology]
only in ‘a secluded corner of his house.’”5 Similarly, John Livingston proffers Ibn
Taymīyah disciple Ibn Qayyim’s attacks on astrology and alchemy as evidence
contrary to Abel’s assertion that religious scholars of the era largely approved
of occultism, though he limits his observation of anti-occult sentiments to the
Hanbali ulama rather than extending it to scholars generally.6 Historians of sci-
ence such as David King and Abdelhamid Sabra routinely reassert the notion that
“religious scholars” of the period were opposed to astrology. King’s assessment
of celestial sciences in the Mamluk period posits a growing distinction between
mathematical astronomy and astrology in the period, the former being put to
the service of “religious” concerns such as the calculation of prayer times while
the latter languished, particularly as it was “frowned upon” by “religious schol-
ars” such as, once again, Ibn Qayyim.7 Sabra builds on this dichotomy in putting
forward his influential notion of the late-medieval rise of the “jurist-scientist”
over the “philosopher-scientist” of previous periods, with the implication that this
entailed a rejection of the “foreign” elements of the rational sciences, including
occultism, in favor of placing science and mathematics in the service of more “re-
ligious” concerns.8 Some recent work by Ottomanist and Timuridist scholars has
strongly countered this tendency to marginalize occultism’s role in learned soci-
ety. Cornell Fleischer, İ. Evrim Binbaş, and Matthew Melvin-Koushki have noted
that the Mamluk cities were important centers of occult learning in which figures
such as al-Bisṭāmī, the Timurid philosopher Ṣāʾin al-Dīn Turkah (d. 835/1432), and
the Timurid historian and poet Sharaf al-Dīn ʿAlī Yazdī (d. 858/1454) studied oc-
cult subjects.9 While their efforts have been directed primarily at the careers of
those figures in their Timurid or Ottoman contexts, the present paper maintains a
focus on the Mamluk intellectual scene, with special attention to the intersection
of occultism and Mamluk manuscript culture.
4
See Livingston citation below. Cf. Mushegh Asatrian, “Ibn Khaldun on Magic and the Occult,”
Iran and the Caucasus 7 (2003): 73–123; Michot, “Ibn Taymiyya on Astrology,” 279ff.
5
George Saliba, “The Role of the Astrologer in Medieval Islamic Society,” Bulletin d’études ori-
entales 44 (1992): 51; the quote is from Ibn Khaldūn, The Muqaddimah: An Introduction to History,
trans. Franz Rosenthal (New York, 1958), III/263.
6
John Livingston, “Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah: A Fourteenth-Century Defense against Astrologi-
cal Divination and Alchemical Transmutation,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 91 (1971):
96–103.
7
David King, “The Astronomy of the Mamluks,” Isis 74 (1983): 551.
8
Abdelhamid Sabra, “The Appropriation and Subsequent Naturalization of Greek Science in Me-
dieval Islam: A Preliminary Statement,” History of Science 25, no. 3 (1987): 240–42.
9
See footnote 1, supra.
cension is also extant, as found, for example, in Chester Beatty MS 5076 (copied in
Rabīʿ II 844/1440 by one ʿAlī ibn Muhannā al-ʿAṭṭār al-Atharī). Much of this recen-
sion overlaps with the earlier one, but the introduction (muqaddimah) has been
significantly expanded, as has the list of occult works al-Bisṭāmī claims to have
read and synthesized (see Appendix). In Durrat tāj al-rasāʾil, al-Bisṭāmī also refers
to a second work titled Shams al-āfāq fī ʿilm al-ḥurūf wa-al-awfāq that he com-
posed in Bursa in 830/1426–27, which he states “is not the book that I completed in
Larende which was mentioned previously” (wa hadhā al-kitāb huwa ghayr al-kitāb
alladhī faraghtu minhu fī Lārandah alladhī taqaddama dhikruhu).20 It is possible
that he is referring here to the recension represented by CB 5076, assuming he
considered the expansions therein substantial enough to justify calling it a differ-
ent book than the Larende recension; however, he provides no further details that
confirm or falsify this hypothesis. For reasons discussed below, it is certain that
the second recension was penned sometime after Dhū al-Ḥijjah 826/1423, which is
to say at least eight months after the initial version. It is with the expanded intro-
duction to the second recension that this article is primarily concerned.
The subject of Shams al-āfāq fī ʿilm al-ḥurūf wa-al-awfāq is the science of let-
ters and names, or “lettrism,” as scholars recently have come to call it. Similar in
ways to Jewish Kabbalah, lettrism was a cosmologically-oriented discourse on the
powers of the Arabic alphabet and the names of God that, in certain iterations,
including al-Bisṭāmī’s, also encompassed occult practices such as divination and
the making of talismans. Though descended from the theological speculation of
early Shiʿi “exaggerators” (ghulāh) and Ismaʿili Neoplatonist thinkers, the lettrism
al-Bisṭāmī was working with largely had taken shape at the hands of Sunni Sufis
in the Islamic West between the fourth/tenth and seventh/thirteenth centuries,
and was most famously promulgated by figures such as al-Būnī and the great An-
dalusian mystic Muḥyī al-Dīn Ibn al-ʿArabī (d. 638/1240), who helped introduce it
to the central Islamic lands as they migrated eastward at the turn of the seventh/
thirteenth century.21 In both recensions, the text of Shams al-āfāq is divided into
an introduction followed by five chapters (fuṣūl). The five chapters of the main
body of the work discuss a range of topics concerning the occult qualities of the
letters, the making of talismans based on mathematical “magic” squares, and the
description of a quasi-Neoplatonic cosmology in which the letters, understood as
the continuous flow of God’s creative speech, are implicated in the revolutions of
the celestial spheres and thus in the ongoing production of the manifest world.
For recent scholarship on the relationship between the Shiʿi and Sufi iterations of lettrism, see
21
Michael Ebstein, Mysticism and Philosophy in Al-Andalus: Ibn Masarra, Ibn Al-ʿArabī and Ismāʿīlī
Tradition (Leiden, Boston, 2014).
These elements are familiar from earlier lettrist writings, particularly al-Būnī’s,
on which al-Bisṭāmī draws heavily.22
Much as in Kabbalah, esotericism had been central to the Western-Sufi lettrism
of Ibn al-ʿArabī and al-Būnī’s generation as both a bāṭinī hermeneutics and a so-
cial practice, and both those masters had stressed the need for utmost discretion
in transmitting what they viewed as initiated understandings of scripture and
powerful praxes for spiritual achievement and transformation of the manifest
world that would be destructive in the hands of the vulgus.23 The present author
has argued elsewhere that, in Egypt and Bilād al-Shām, early readers of al-Būnī’s
works—which were far more explicit than Ibn al-ʿArabī’s with regard to occult-
practical aspects of lettrism such as talismans—heeded al-Būnī’s wishes by mostly
restricting the circulation of his texts to secretive circles of Sufi adepts for roughly
a century after his death, such that only in the eighth/fourteenth century did his
writings begin to become available to other communities of readers, becoming
increasingly popular through the ninth/fifteenth.24 The writings of Ibn al-ʿArabī,
in which lettrism is a persistent theme, of course became immensely popular and
influential during the same period.25 This gradual emergence of lettrism from the
confines of esotericist Sufi reading communities was an important condition of
possibility for the creation of Shams al-āfāq, and indeed for al-Bisṭāmī’s career as
a courtier-occultist. It cleared the way for him to undertake the project of refram-
ing lettrism for the cosmopolitan learned and courtly classes of the later Mamluk
period, a project that entailed realignments of both the epistemic and social bases
of lettrism.
That the proliferation of lettrist texts in the Mamluk cities in the lead-up to
al-Bisṭāmī’s time was not limited to al-Būnī and Ibn al-ʿArabī’s writings is clear
from a major list of books on lettrism that al-Bisṭāmī includes in the introduc-
tion to Shams al-āfāq. The list includes 238 titles of books he claims to have read
on the science of letters and names or matters related thereto (see Appendix).26
It comprises numerous works by figures al-Bisṭāmī cites frequently throughout
Shams al-āfāq, such as al-Būnī and the turn-of-the-ninth/fifteenth-century shaykh
22
On elements of al-Būnī’s lettrist cosmology, see the present author’s “Stars and saints: The eso-
tericist astrology of the Sufi occultist Aḥmad al-Būnī,” forthcoming in 2017 in the journal Magic,
Witchcraft, and Ritual.
23
Ibn al-ʿArabī, Le Livre du mim, du waw, et du nun, trans. Charles-Andre Gilis (Beirut, 2002), 56ff.
24
Noah Gardiner, “Esotericist Reading Communities and the Early Circulation of the Sufi Oc-
cultist Aḥmad al-Būnī’s Works,” in Islamicate Occultism: New Perspectives, ed. Matthew Melvin-
Koushki and Noah Gardiner, special issue of Arabica 64, nos. 3–4 (2017): 405-41.
25
Alexander Knysh, Ibn ʿArabī in the Later Islamic Tradition: The Making of a Polemical Image in
Medieval Islam (Albany, 1999), 49–140.
26
Al-Bisṭāmī, “Shams al-āfāq,” Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 1a. Wa-qad waqaftu ʿalá kutub kathīrah
jalīlat al-burhān fī hadhā al-shān qalīlat al-wujūd fī hadhā al-zamān.
Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Kūmī al-Tūnisī (about whom more below); famous works on
magic such as Ghāyat al-ḥakīm (Picatrix) and the book of Tum-Tum al-Hindī;27
pseudo-Aristotelian hermetica like Kitāb al-Isṭimāṭīs and Kitāb al-Istimākhīs;28
works attributed to luminaries of the early Islamic period such as Jaʿfar al-Ṣādiq
and Thābit ibn Qurrah, and of the Hellenistic past such as Plato, Alexander the
Great, et alia; several books (asfār) attributed to prophets, e.g., Sifr Ādam, Sifr Idrīs,
Sifr Nūḥ, etc.; and scores of other titles. These works were “little to be found” at
the time, al-Bisṭāmī asserts, but however rare the individual volumes, their sheer
number suggests that there was already a considerable audience in the Mamluk
cities for occult-scientific literature.
The list is invaluable as a bibliography of late-medieval lettrism. It is also an
important indicator of the “encyclopedic” nature of al-Bisṭāmī’s work, which,
though not massive in size, seeks to distill, organize, and otherwise make accessi-
ble to learned readers the large, messy, and difficult body of lettrist teachings the
list represents. Modern scholarship has long recognized the Mamluk period as
one in which an encyclopedist ethos held sway, giving rise to such massive works
as al-Nuwayrī’s (d. 733/1333) Nihāyat al-arab fī funūn al-adab, al-Qalqashandī’s (d.
821/1418) Ṣubḥ al-aʿshá, and al-ʿUmarī’s (d. 749/1349) Masālik al-abṣār fī mamālik
al-amṣār, as well as “a wide range of compilatory texts—including biographical
dictionaries, literary anthologies, universal and specialised lexicons, and profes-
sional manuals—all dependent upon the fundamental processes of collecting and
ordering knowledge.”29 Some twentieth-century scholars, such as Charles Pellat,
held that this surge of compilatory and synthetic activity was a fearful response
to the threat posed by the Mongols to the intellectual and belletristic patrimony
of Islamic civilization, and furthermore that the seemingly derivative nature of
Mamluk literature was a symptom of intellectual lassitude and postclassical de-
cline.30 Elias Muhanna argues convincingly, however, that the encyclopedism of
the period is better conceived as the product of a cosmopolitan, universalist out-
27
On Ghāyat al-ḥakīm see Maribel Fierro, “Bāṭinism in al-Andalus: Maslama b. Qāsim al-Qu rṭubī
(d. 353/964), Author of the Rutbat al-Ḥakīm and the Ghāyat al-Ḥakīm (Picatrix),” Studia Islamica 84
(1996): 87–112. The book of Tum-Tum al-Hindī is briefly mentioned as a well-known book on mag-
ic by Ibn Khaldūn in al-Muqaddimah, in the section on “The sciences of sorcery and talismans.”
28
On Kitāb al-Istamātis see Charles Burnett, “Hermann of Carinthia and Kitāb al-istamātis: Fur-
ther Evidence for the Transmission of Hermetic Magic,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld
Institutes 44 (1981): 167–69. On Kitāb al-Istimākhis see idem, “Arabic, Greek and Latin Works on
Astrological Magic attributed to Aristotle,” in Pseudo-Aristotle in the Middle Ages, ed. Jill Kraye,
W. F. Ryan, and C. B. Schmitt (London, 1986), 84–96.
29
Elias Muhanna, “Why Was the Fourteenth Century a Century of Arabic Encyclopaedism?,” in
Encyclopaedism from Antiquity to the Renaissance, ed. Jason Konig and Greg Woolf (Cambridge,
2013), 347.
30
Charles Pellat, Encyclopaedia of Islam, 2nd ed., s.v. “Mawsūʿa.”
science” (al-ʿilm al-ṭabīʿī), and “the science of sorcery and the science of the letter
and magic squares” (ʿilm al-siḥr wa-ʿilm al-ḥarf wa-al-awfāq). He names three of
al-Būnī’s works alongside Fakhr al-Dīn al-Rāzī’s Al-Sirr al-maktūm, the Ghāyat
al-ḥakīm, a Kitāb al-Jamharah attributed to one al-Khawārazmī, and the Timaeus
(which he attributes to Aristotle rather than Plato).36 That al-Qalqashandī associ-
ates lettrism so closely with sorcery (siḥr)—typically a term of severe disapproba-
tion in Sunni discourse—suggests that he may have had a rather low opinion of
the topic.
Al-Nuwayrī and al-Qalqashandī’s mentions of lettrism via al-Būnī can be seen
as attempts to discipline a potentially disruptive discourse by subsuming it with-
in their own conceptions of the hierarchy of the sciences (taṣnīf al-ʿulūm) and oth-
erwise assigning it relatively little importance in the grand scheme of things that
their massive works sought to encompass and order. Al-Bisṭāmī’s approach to the
topic in Shams al-āfāq shares the encyclopedic prerogatives of synthesizing and
ordering a large body of material from past authorities. It could hardly be more
different, however, with regard to the status he assigns lettrism, which he posi-
tions as the veritable queen of the sciences. In describing the sources from which
the knowledge of lettrism conveyed in Shams al-āfāq is taken, he avows:
From the books of the prophets I took it. From the speech of the
saints I gathered it. From the scrolls of the select I set it down. From
the records of the God-fearing I recorded it. From the treasures of
the listeners I extracted it. From the riddles of the philosophers I
solved it. From original thought I devised it. Among the secrets of
the pious ones I discovered upon it. From the epistles of the people
of mysteries I deduced it. And by the lamps of the people of lights
I sought it.37
And regarding the excellence of the science of letters, and of his own book, he
asserts:
It [Shams al-āfāq] is among the most outstanding of books in its
utility and the greatest of them with reference to the compilation
of that which is most excellent and dearly sought in one precious
location. For in it is the greatest science of God, His most lumi-
nescent mystery, His most radiant law, and His most magnificent
36
Al-Qalqashandī, Ṣubḥ al-aʿshá (Cairo, 1908–19), 1:465. Incidentally, the Kitāb al-Jamharah is no.
198 on al-Bisṭāmī’s list of books on lettrism. He does not list the other works al-Qalqashandī
mentions, though no. 20, Al-Sirr al-manẓūm fī al-Sirr al-maktūm, is likely a commentary on al-
Rāzī’s work.
37
Hekimoğlu 533, fol. 2b.
38
Ibid.
39
Hekimoğlu 533, fol. 2b–3a.
40
For al-Būnī’s most explicit discussions of talismans based on mathematical magic squares see
his Laṭāʾif al-ishārāt fī al-ḥurūf al-ʿulwīyāt (as found in numerous MSS, e.g., BnF MS arabe 2657,
BnF MS arabe 2658, Berlin MS or. Fol. 80, and others), passim.
41
Hekimoğlu 533, fol. 2b.
Ibid.
42
43
Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 7a.
44
Numerous transmissions and variants of the hadith can be found. See, for example, Ṣaḥīḥ al-
Bukhārī, nos. 3650 and 3651 (the second and third entries in Bāb faḍāʾil aṣḥāb al-nabī).
45
Eerik Dickinson, “Ibn al-Ṣalāḥ Al-Shahrazūrī and the Isnād,” Journal of the American Oriental
Society 122 (2002): 481–505.
46
On whom see Mohammad Ahmad Masad, “The Medieval Islamic Apocalyptic Tradition: Divi-
nation, Prophecy and the End of Time in the 13th Century Eastern Mediterranean” (Ph.D. diss.,
Washington University in St. Louis, 2008).
47
Fleischer, “Ancient Wisdom,” 238.
The vocalization of al-Ḥintawī is uncertain. The present author has been unable thus far to
49
locate this figure in the standard biographical sources, even despite the unusual combination of
the shaykh and great master Sayyid ʿIzz al-Dīn Ḥusayn al-Akhlāṭī,
may God enlighten his innermost being, wrote for him [Barqūq] a
comprehensive book [kitāban jāmiʿan], though I never examined it
with satisfactory care despite the length of my stay in Cairo and
my familiarity with many of its exquisite qualities. Among them
[Akhlāṭī’s books] were Kitāb al-Kanz al-makhzūn and other such
among so many that if I mentioned them all the book would grow
in length and we would abandon brevity for length and logorrhea.50
Al-Bisṭāmī himself was not present at Barqūq’s court, as he seems to have ar-
rived in Egypt only in 805/1402–3—the earliest date he mentions having been in
Egypt in Durrat tāj al-rasāʾil. The legacy of the lettrist coterie at Barqūq’s court
nonetheless must have shaped and helped facilitate his aspirations toward recon-
figuring lettrism for the literate upper classes. Certainly, the prestige afforded by
Barqūq’s apparent fascination with lettrism would have helped generate wider
interest in it, notwithstanding the stern disapproval of the topic on the part of Ibn
Khaldūn (d. 808/1406), another of Barqūq’s courtiers.51
Two of the lettrist authors al-Bisṭāmī mentions as having been at Barqūq’s
court are of particular interest. The first is Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Kūmī (fl. 810/140752),
a Sufi lettrist from Tunis a number of whose works are still extant in manuscript.53
As we will see below, al-Bisṭāmī is particularly at pains to affiliate himself with
al-Kūmī, whom he discusses and praises at length in Shams al-āfāq. The second
is Sayyid Ḥusayn al-Akhlāṭī (d. 799/1397), a physician, alchemist, and lettrist who
loomed large in the occult scene of late eighth/fourteenth-century Cairo, but who
is not much discussed in Shams al-āfāq, and whom al-Bisṭāmī seems to distance
himself from somewhat in the excerpt above from Durrat tāj al-rasāʾil.
names Makhlūf ibn ʿAlī ibn Maymūn.
50
Al-Bisṭāmī, “Naẓm al-sulūk,” fol. 132b.
51
For Ibn Khaldūn’s discussion of lettrism see The Muqaddimah: An Introduction to History, trans.
Franz Rosenthal (New York, 1958), 3:171ff. For discussions of his views on occultism generally
see Mushegh Asatrian, “Ibn Khaldun on Magic and the Occult,” Iran and the Caucasus: Research
Papers from the Caucasian Centre for Iranian Studies, Yerevan 7 (2003): 73–123; James Morris, “An
Arab Machiavelli? Rhetoric, Philosophy, and Politics in Ibn Khaldun’s Critique of Sufism,” Har-
vard Middle Eastern and Islamic Review 8 (2009): 242–91. The present author is currently preparing
a new analysis of Ibn Khaldūn’s anti-occult polemic in the Muqaddimah in light of this occultist
coterie at Barqūq’s court, and taking into consideration certain codical and textual details of
autograph copies of the work. It will appear shortly as part of the Annemarie Schimmel Kolleg
Working Papers series.
52
Per Carl Brockelmann, Geschichte der Arabischen Litteratur, S2:358.
53
See, for example, al-Kūmī’s “Taysīr al-maṭālib wa-raghbat al-ṭālib” (Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi
MS Laleli 1594/1); “Risālat al-Hū” (Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi MS Resid efendi 608/3); “Al-Īmāʾ ilá
ʿilm al-asmāʾ fī sharḥ asmāʾ Allāh al-ḥusná (Dār al-Kutub MS 1524 Taṣawwuf).
Cairo. The explanation may lie in the fact that al-Akhlāṭī’s star pupil, Badr al-Dīn
al-Simāwī, who at one time was chief judge for the Ottoman army, was a spiri-
tual leader of a millenarian rebellion against the Ottoman state, resulting in his
execution in 818/1416.58 Fleischer suggests that al-Bisṭāmī’s close association with
Badr al-Dīn necessitated that he retreat to the Mamluk territories during these
troubles to escape any negative repercussions.59 A similar sense of caution may
have inspired him to de-emphasize his relationship to al-Akhlāṭī, and to instead
favor a narrative of himself as an inheritor and interpreter of al-Kūmī and other
Sufis’ teachings on the science of letters and names.
The best sense of the Mamluk occult scene as al-Bisṭāmī experienced it is con-
veyed in his account of his own education and initiation into lettrism. In what
amounts to a performance of the theme of book-learning and mystical inspiration
as the twin pillars of occult knowledge, this account takes the form of a record
of al-Bisṭāmī’s formal readings of various lettrist texts—i.e., of his having read
or heard texts in the presence of either their authors or shaykhs in direct lines
of transmission from their authors (qaraʾa ʿalá or samiʿa ʿalá)—interspersed with
his visionary encounters with the Prophet and other spiritual authorities. The
implication is that these events are linked, the readings somehow precipitating
the visionary experiences. This relationship is made explicit at the climax of the
narrative, where a reading of the great Maghribī Sufi master Abū al-Ḥasan al-
Shādhilī’s (d. 656/1258) Ḥizb al-baḥr triggers a dream-encounter with the Prophet
in which the Prophet bestows complete knowledge of lettrism upon al-Bisṭāmī.
The section of the introduction to Shams al-āfāq in which al-Bisṭāmī details the
chains of transmission (isnāds) that vouchsafe his knowledge of lettrism begins
with a chain stretching from himself, through al-Kūmī, and back to the Prophet.
It is similar to chains—accompanied by brief biographical/hagiographical ac-
counts—he provides later in the text for a number of authorities from earlier gen-
erations whom he draws on in the book, including al-Būnī, al-Shādhilī, and Ibn
Ṭalḥah, along with the Western Sufi-lettrist Abū al-Ḥasan al-Ḥarāllī (d. 638/1240),
the illuminationist mystic-philosopher al-Suhrawardī al-Maqtūl (d. 587/1191), the
famous Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazzālī (d. 505/1111), the great Sufi martyr al-Ḥallāj (d.
309/922), and others.60 The vocabulary of transmission employed is familiar from
the hadith sciences and other discourses, and implies the oral/aural imparting of
knowledge:
58
For a recent and detailed discussion of these events, see Dimitri Kastritsis, “The Şeyh Bedreddin
Uprising in the Context of the Ottoman Civil War of 1402–1413,” in Political Initiatives “ from the
Bottom Up” in the Ottoman Empire: Halcyon Days in Crete VII, a Symposium Held in Rethymno 9–11
January 2009, ed. Antonis Anastasopoulos (Rethymno, 2012), 221–38.
59
Fleischer, “Ancient Wisdom,” 232.
60
Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 16bff.
Ibid., fol. 9b. Though al-Bisṭāmī’s use of akhadhtu implies face-to-face contact with al-Kūmī, it
62
is possible that his claim to have “taken” from al-Kūmī “through the tongue of wisdom and tast-
ings” implies that their meeting was spiritual rather than physical.
63
Ibn Ḥajar al-ʿAsqalānī, Inbāʾ al-ghumr, 7:248–49. For Sabra see footnote 8 supra.
64
The hierarchy of the saints, of which the Pole is the living head, is “invisible” in the sense that
its members and their rank are unknown to anyone who is not himself or herself high in the
hierarchy; according to some theories none but the highest-ranking members are even certain of
their own membership. For him to have seen the Pole, then, might indicate either that he recog-
nized him in person as such, or that he had a vision of him.
65
Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 9b.
studied directly with the author, were instigating a deeper connection between
al-Bisṭāmī, the invisible hierarchy of saints of which the Pole is the living head,
and the Prophet.
Al-Bisṭāmī seemingly gives priority to mentioning his readings of al-Kūmī’s
works in order to emphasize his closeness to the shaykh. That accomplished,
the account then moves back in time to Cairo in 807/1404–5 and two readings
he undertook there with the shaykh ʿIzz al-Dīn Muḥammad ibn Jamāʿah (d.
819/1416–17). One is a work by an author named Jamāl al-Dīn Yūsuf ibn Aḥmad
ibn Muḥammad al-Nadrūmī (d. 807/1404–5).66 The other is al-Būnī’s collection of
astrologically-timed duʿaʾs for accomplishing a variety of material and spiritual
ends, Al-Lumʿah al-nūrānīyah fī awrād al-rabbānīyah:
When I was in Cairo (may God Most High protect it from His over-
powering punishment) in the year 807 I read, in the presence of
the shaykh the imam Abū ʿAbd Allāh ʿIzz al-Dīn Muḥammad ibn
Jamāʿah al-Kinānī al-Shāfiʿī al-Dimashqī (may God have mercy on
him), the book Qabs al-anwār wa-jāmiʿ al-asrār. He read it in the
presence of its author the shaykh the knower of God Jamāl al-Dīn
Yūsuf al-Nadrūmī. I also read, in the presence of the shaykh ʿIzz
al-Dīn ibn Jamāʿah, the book Al-Lumʿah al-nūrānīyah fī al-awrād
al-rabbānīyah and others like that of the wondrous sciences and
strange subtleties.67
The identity of the shaykh who presided over the readings is noteworthy. ʿIzz
al-Dīn Muḥammad ibn Jamāʿah (d. 819/1416–17) was a scion of the Ibn Jamāʿah
scholarly dynasty, and his immediate forebears had served for three generations
in some of the highest civilian offices of Mamluk Cairo and Jerusalem, and also
were known for their devotion to Sufism. ʿIzz al-Dīn Muḥammad’s great-grand-
father, Badr al-Dīn Muḥammad (d. 733/1333), served as the Shafiʿi grand qadi of
Cairo and shaykh al-shuyūkh of the Sufi associations on and off between 690/1291
and 727/1327, and his grandfather, ʿIzz al-Dīn ʿAbd al-ʿAzīz (d. 767/1366), and pater-
nal uncle, Burhān al-Dīn Ibrāhīm (d. 790/1388), had similarly illustrious careers.68
He was also an important teacher of the noted historian Ibn Ḥajar al-Asqalānī
(d. 852/1449). Although the Ibn Jamāʿah family’s power in Cairo waned during
ʿIzz al-Dīn Muḥammad’s lifetime, the Syrian branch of the family maintained a
high standing in Damascus and Jerusalem well into the Ottoman period under
66
On whom see Ḥājjī Khalīfah, Kashf al-ẓunūn ʿan asāmī al-kutub wa-al-funūn, ed. Muḥammad
Sharaf al-Dīn Yāltaqāyā and Rifʿat Bīlga (Istanbul, 1941–43), no. 1315.
67
Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 9b.
68
Kamal Salibi, “The Banū Jamāʿa: A Dynasty of Shāfiʿite Jurists in the Mamlūk Period,” Studia
Islamica 9 (1958): 97–103.
the nisbah al-Nābulusī. ʿAbd al-Ghānī al-Nābulusī (d. 1143/1731), one of the great
interpreters of both Ibn al-ʿArabī and the mystic poet Ibn al-Fāriḍ, was in fact a
distant relation of ʿIzz al-Dīn Muḥammad.69 Notably, as Knysh has document-
ed, Badr al-Dīn Ibn Jamāʿah once issued an extremely harsh condemnation of
Ibn al-ʿArabī’s esotericist masterpiece Fuṣūs al-ḥikam, denying the author’s claim
that the text was divinely inspired, declaring that Iblīs was its true source, and
“advis[ing] the ruler that all copies of the Fusus and other writings containing
similar statements be destroyed in order to protect the community from a great
temptation.”70 The contrasting attitudes of the two Ibn Jamāʿahs—over the space
of a few generations—is credible evidence of a shift during that time toward the
wider acceptance of al-Būnī and Ibn al-ʿArabī’s teachings.
Lest it be assumed that al-Bisṭāmī was only receiving knowledge and texts
during this period, it is important to note that he was also composing and trans-
mitting new works on lettrism, often at the behest of various military and schol-
arly elites, as is recorded in Durrat tāj al-rasāʾil. In Cairo in 805/1402–3, for ex-
ample, he composed what he refers to as “a book on the occult properties of a 100
by 100 square”—which is to say a mathematical magic square with 100 rows and
100 columns—for an atabeg by the name of Yashbak.71 And at the behest of various
shaykhs and qadis he presides over a number of readings of the two works that
ʿIzz al-Dīn Ibn Jamāʿah licensed him to transmit, al-Būnī’s al-Lumʿah al-nūrānīyah
and al-Nadrūmī’s Qabs al-anwār wa-jāmiʿ al-asrār.72 This role as a lettrist author-
ity making the rounds of various elite households—an authority he constantly
supplemented by gaining ever more credentials through participating in further
readings—is key to understanding al-Bisṭāmī’s professional career.
When al-Bisṭāmī’s account in Shams al-āfāq proceeds to 808/1405–6, we find
him, presumably still in Cairo, reading four works with the shaykh Abū ʿAbd
Allāh Yaʿīsh ibn Ibrāhīm ibn Yūsuf ibn Sammāk al-Umawī al-Andalusī, Kayfīyat
al-ittifāq fī tarkīb al-awfāq, Lawāmiʿ al-taʿrīf fī matāliʿ al-taṣrīf, Al-Mawahhib al-
rabbānīyah fī asrār al-rūḥānīyah, and Al-Istinṭāqāt; he also notes having heard
Kayfīyat al-ittifāq with Yaʿīsh’s disciple Abū Ṭāhir Muḥammad al-Miṣrī. Again
marking the transition between oral/aural and book-transmission, he traces the
isnād from Yaʿīsh back through a classic Iraqi Sufi line that includes such figures
as ʿUmar al-Suhrawardī, Junayd, Maʿrūf al-Karkhī, al-Ḥasan al-Baṣrī, ʿAlī ibn Abī
Ṭālib, and of course the Prophet. Though the Andalusī Yaʿīsh serves as al-Bisṭāmī’s
69
Elizabeth Sirriyeh, “Whatever Happened to the Banū Jamāʿa? The Tail of a Scholarly Family in
Ottoman Syria,” British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 28 (2001): 55–64.
70
Knysh, Ibn ʿArabī in the Later Islamic Tradition, 123–24.
71
Al-Bisṭāmī, “Durrat tāj al-rasāʾil wa-ghurrat minhāj al-wasāʾil,” Süleymaniye MS Nuruosmani-
ye 4905, fol. 28a.
72
Ibid., fol. 25a, for example.
point of entry to this chain, its function in terms of al-Bisṭāmī’s attempts to posi-
tion himself as an inheritor of Sufi knowledge may be to establish his bona fides
with regard to the “sober,” shariʿah-minded Sufi tradition associated with figures
such as Abū Ḥafṣ ʿUmar al-Suhrawardī (d. 632/1234) and al-Junayd al-Baghdādī
(d. 298/910). This tradition had long been dominant in Egyptian Sufism, and by
the ninth/fifteenth century existed in an sometimes-uneasy relationship with
the western strain of Sufism represented by figures such as Ibn al-ʿArabī and al-
Shādhilī, with which lettrism was most strongly associated.
Al-Bisṭāmī goes on to list a welter of further books and authorities with whom
he interacted in 808/1405–6, giving the impression of ceaseless learning and initi-
atic activity.73 He seems to claim to have taken a number of books from Tāj al-Dīn
Ibn al-Durayhim: Ghāyat al-mughnim fī al-ism al-aʿẓam, Kanz al-durar fī ḥurūf awāʾil
al-suwar, Sayr al-ṣarf fī sirr al-ḥarf, and Tāʾ al-taṣrīf wa-ḥallat al-taʿrīf. This assertion
is problematic, however, given that Ibn al-Durayhim—who indeed is remembered
as a master of lettrism, among other topics—is commonly recorded to have died
in 762/1361;74 such that perhaps he means to say that he took these books from
one of Ibn al-Durayhim’s students. With one Sharaf al-Dīn al-Baghdādī he reads
three books by Sharaf al-Dīn’s teacher Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad ibn Minkalī
al-ʿAlamī, Kashf al-bayān fī maʿrifat ḥawādith al-zamān, Al-Bāqīyāt al-ṣāliḥāt fī
burūz al-ummahāt, and Al-Sirr al-maṣūn wa-ʿilm al-maknūn. He furthermore reads
the aforementioned work written for Barqūq by Abū Muḥammad Makhlūf ibn
ʿAlī ibn Maymūn al-Ḥintawī, Al-Lawāmiʿ al-burūq fī salṭanat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir
Barqūq, which he reads with its author. Finally, on the authority of the shaykh
Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad ibn Muḥammad ibn Ḥāmid al-Dimashqī, he reads
two works by al-Dimashqī’s teacher Abū ʿAbd Allāh Muḥammad ibn Ibrāhīm
al-Ḥanafī al-Qudsī, Kashf al-ishārāt al-ṣūfīyah wa-nashr al-bishārāt al-ismīyah al-
muḥammadīyah and Al-Manḥ al-wahhābīyah al-rabbānīyah fī al-milḥ al-ismīyah al-
muḥammadīyah.
At this juncture, al-Bisṭāmī again complicates his chronology by returning to
807/1404–5. Here the jump in time has a dual narrative purpose. On the one hand,
the story he unfolds is clearly the dramatic culmination of the long-term initiatic
process he is describing throughout this discourse. On the other, the initial and
concluding events in this final story are themselves separated in time, with the
climax occurring at the end of 826/1423. The events to hand are a series of initiatic
book-transmission experiences, three of which occur in the mundus imaginalis of
dreams, and one in the world of flesh. Notably, all four occur in Cairo, that city of
books and initiations.
Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 10a–b.
73
For example, the tarjamah in Khayr al-Dīn Ziriklī, Al-Aʿlām: Qāmūs tarājim li-ashhar al-rijāl wa-
74
On whom see Ahmed El Shamsy, “Returning to God through His Names: A Fourteenth-Cen-
75
tury Sufi Treatise,” in Essays in Islamic Philology, History, and Philosophy, ed. William Granara et
al. (Berlin, 2016), 204–28.
Conclusion
In the phenomenology of revealed religions, there are inevitable eschatological
implications to the disclosure of sacred knowledge that formerly had been held
back from all but the most elect among the believers. In the Zohar and the cul-
ture of readers that surrounded it, for example, the secret Kabbalistic teachings
of the great sages were represented as having been passed down covertly for a
thousand years, such that, as Rachel Elior notes, “their revelation in the end of
the thirteenth century and their dissemination in the following period signified
the emergence of the messianic era.”78 Al-Bisṭāmī likewise invokes the impend-
ing end of time as licensing his encyclopedic project of synthesizing and making
available teachings on the science of letters and names, a tradition represented as
having been passed down in secret from the prophets and thence through lines
Chester Beatty MS 5076, fol. 10b–11a.
77
Rachel Elior, “Not All Is in the Hands of Heaven: Eschatology and Kabbalah,” in Eschatology
78
in the Bible and in Jewish and Christian Tradition, ed. Henning Ravenlow (Sheffield, 1997), 49–61.
of Sufi adepts. That this redounded to his benefit as someone who made a career
of advising on lettrism and related topics to Mamluk and Ottoman elites speaks
only to his divine election to the role of revelator, or so al-Bisṭāmī would have us
think. In a period replete with mahdīs, and with the hijrī millennium an impend-
ing—if not quite near—event, this was his small but significant part in the closing
acts of the cosmic drama.
I would argue that al-Bisṭāmī’s efforts to authorize his synthesis and disclo-
sure of lettrism are reflective not only of the rising millenarian sentiments of
his time, but also of shifts taking place over the course of the Mamluk period in
Muslim learning and Arabic-Islamic manuscript culture. The Arabic book, which
throughout the earlier medieval period had been something of a material epi-
phenomenon of the teacher-student/master-disciple relationship, seems by the
latter part of the Mamluk period to have gained a new integrity as a standalone
source of knowledge. The great encyclopedias of the age, Mamluk-era copies of
which typically were arranged for ease of use through nested arrays of headings
and subheadings and by new habits of mise-en-page that allowed the eye to more
quickly navigate the page, facilitated quick access to vast volumes of information
for a reading public of busy scholar-bureaucrats.79 Likewise, the ever increasing
production of digests, commentaries, and anthological codices devoted to par-
ticular mystical, theological, and philosophic topics and viewpoints helped break
the spell of the authoritative old codex filled with transmission certificates.
One area where this shift in the status of the book is most evident is with
regard to the use of “audition” (samāʿ) and related practices of formal text-trans-
mission. While such practices had their roots in early methods of hadith trans-
mission, their use peaked in popularity between the sixth/twelfth and eighth/
fourteenth centuries—particularly in the Bilād al-Shām and Egypt, where audi-
tion sessions became popular events attended not just by scholars, but by literate
elites, craftspeople, and others wishing to extract some barakah from being read
into lines of transmission linked to great scholars and mystics, and of course to
the Prophet himself.80 The ninth/fifteenth century, however, seems to have wit-
nessed a decline in their use. This was due in part, perhaps, to the rise in popular-
79
Maaike Van Berkel, “The Attitude towards Knowledge in Mamlūk Egypt: Organisation and
Structure of the Ṣubḥ al-Aʿshā by Al-Qalqashandī (1355–1418),” in Pre-Modern Encyclopaedic Texts:
Proceedings of the Second COMERS Congress, Groningen, 1–4 July 1996, ed. Peter Binkley (Leiden,
1997), 159–68.
80
On the rise and decline of audition practices, see Muʿjam al-samā‘āt al-Dimashqīyah: al-
muntakhabah min sanat 550 ilá 750 H/1155 M ilá 1349 M, ed. Stefan Leder, Yāsīn al-Sawwās, and
Maʾmūn al-Ṣāgharjī (Damascus, 1996); Konrad Hirschler, The Written Word in the Medieval Arabic
Lands: A Social and Cultural History of Reading Practices (Edinburgh:, 2012), 60–70; Noah Gardiner,
“Esotericism in a Manuscript Culture: Aḥmad Al-Būnī and His Readers through the Mamlūk
Period” (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, 2014), 125–31.
ity of the issuing of various types of ijāzah that relaxed the necessity for hearing
books in their entirety, and that could license a student or disciple to teach whole
corpora of their masters and masters’ masters at the tic of a pen—a loosening of
the more rigorous forms of transmission through which al-Bisṭāmī claims to have
taken the science of letters and names from his earthly teachers.81 Nonetheless,
his assent to this more relaxed model of knowledge transmission with regard to
his own works is evidenced by the ijāzah he wrote on the final leaf of Süleymani-
ye MS Hekimoğlu 533, in Shawwāl 837/1434, for one Shihāb al-Dīn Aḥmad al-
Ḥusaynī al-Shāfiʿī al-Tirmidhī, granting him a license not only for Shams al-āfāq,
which he had read in al-Bisṭāmī’s presence, but for “all of my works and what
is mine through knowledge and transmission (mālī min dirāyah wa-riwāyah), in
accordance with the usual rules of the scholars (ʿalá al-shurūṭ al-maʾlūfah bayn al-
ʿulamāʾ),” which is to say a license for the entirety of his corpus.82
As a key text in al-Bisṭāmī’s larger project, Shams al-āfāq helps marks a crucial
point in the history of lettrism, and indeed of Islamic occultism more broadly,
wherein a science that had formerly been the reserve of small and discreet com-
munities of practitioners was being mainstreamed, i.e., being made available to a
much wider audience of literate and devout readers, as well as Turkish military-
political elites. His lettrism might thus best be characterized as “post-esotericist”
in the sense that its secret history—which is to say its history of having long been
secret—was what rendered its exposure so significant. The encyclopedic nature of
Shams al-āfāq was an indispensable element of this transition, a rendering limpid
and accessible in book-form of what previously had been obscure, hidden, and
scattered. As scholars such as Fleischer, Binbaş, and Melvin-Koushki have begun
to show, lettrism and other of the occult sciences would go on to be essential to
the “sacral power”83 many early modern rulers sought to claim in constituting
their authority to rule in a new, apocalyptic age. More broadly, they were key
elements of what Shahab Ahmed describes as the “Sufi-philosophical amalgam”
that characterized much early modern Islamic thought,84 an emerging conviction
of the accessibility of the powers of the visible and invisible worlds to human
knowledge and agency.
81
On various types of ijāzah see George Makdisi, The Rise of Colleges: Institutions of Learning in
Islam and the West (Edinburgh, 1981), 140–52; Jonathan Berkey, The Transmission of Knowledge in
Medieval Cairo: A Social History of Islamic Education (Princeton, 1992), 31–33. The gradual (and by
no means total) replacement of the audition certificate (sometimes called ijāzat al-samāʿ) with
these broader, looser forms of ijāzah is an area of inquiry that remains to be explored in detail.
82
Hekimoğlu 533, fol. 151b.
83
Matthew Melvin-Koushki, “Astrology, Lettrism, Geomancy: The Occult-Scientific Methods of
Post-Mongol Islamicate Imperialism,” The Medieval History Journal 19, no. 1 (2016): 142–50.
84
Shahab Ahmed, What Is Islam? The Importance of Being Islamic (Princeton, 2016), 31 and passim.
52. Qabs al-iqtidāʾ ilá wafq al-saʿādah wa-najm al-ihtidāʾ ilá sharaf al-
siyādah87
53. Kayfiyat al-ittifāq fī tarkīb al-awfāq
54. Ḥall al-rumūz fī fatḥ al-kunūz
55. Sawātiʿ al-anwār fī lawāmiʿ al-asrār
56. Manbaʿ al-farāʾid (al-fawāʾid) wa-ʿuyūn al-fawāʾid (al-farāʾid)
57. Al-Sirr al-abhar fī al-qamar al-anwar (al-azhar)
58. Ṣuwar al-arwāḥ (al-riyāḥ) al-nūrānīyah fī suwar al-ashbāḥ al-ẓulmānīyah
59. Mawāqif al-ghāyāt fī asrār al-riyāḍāt88
60. Hidāyat al-qāṣidīn wa-nihāyat al-wāṣilīn89
61. Kanz al-qāṣidīn ilá asrār al-saʿādah wa-ramz al-wāṣilīn ilá anwār al-
siyādah
62. Fatḥ al-kunūz al-ḥarfīyah wa-fakk al-rumūz al-ʿadadīyah
63. Laṭāʾif al-wafqīyah al-nūrānīyah wa-al-maʿārif al-ʿadadīyah al-rūḥānīyah
64. Al-Lumʿah al-nūrānīyah fī awrād al-rabbānīyah90
65. Al-Barqah al-rabbānīyah fī al-asrār al-furqānīyah
66. Mashriq al-anwār fī maghrib al-asrār
67. Fawātiḥ al-jamāl wa-rawāʾiḥ al-kamāl
68. Miftāḥ al-kunūz fī ḥall al-rumūz
69. Majmaʿ al-aqlām al-rasmīyah wa-manbaʿ al-asrār al-ḥikmīyah
70. Mawāhib al-Raḥmān wa-ʿaṭāyā al-Mannān
71. Washy al-jamāl wa-luʾluʾ al-kamāl
72. Rawḍ al-maʿārif wa-riyāḍ al-laṭāʾif
73. Shams al-saʿādah wa-qamar al-siyādah
74. Ghāyat al-maghnam fī al-ism al-aʿẓam
75. Kanz al-anwār wa-ramz al-asrār
76. Rawḍ al-asrār al-ʿadadīyah wa-hawḍ al-anwār al-ḥarfīyah
77. Lawāmiʿ al-burūq fī salṭanat al-Malik al-Ẓāhir Barqūq91
78. ʿArūs al-āfāq fī ʿilm al-awfāq
79. Al-Nūr al-lāmiʿ wa-al-sirr al-jāmiʿ
80. Al-Hayʾah al-jāmiʿah wa-al-barqah al-lāmiʿah
81. Shams al-asrār al-rabbānīyah wa-qamar al-anwār al-ʿirfānīyah
87
A work commonly, though falsely, attributed to Aḥmad al-Būnī. See Gardiner, “Esotericism in
a manuscript culture,” 26; Jean-Charles Coulon, “La magie islamique et le «corpus bunianum»
au Moyen Âge” (Ph.D. diss., Paris IV - Sorbonne, 2013), 1:500ff.
88
By Aḥmad al-Būnī. See, for example, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi MS Aya Sofya 2160/2.
89
By Aḥmad al-Būnī. See, for example, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi MS Aya Sofya 2160/1.
90
By Aḥmad al-Būnī. See, for example, Chester Beatty MS Ar. 3168/5.
91
By Abī Muḥammad Makhlūf ibn ʿAlī ibn Maymūn al-Ḥintawī al-Jannātī al-Mālikī. See pp. 16–17
supra.
By Abū ʿAbd Allāh Kūmī. See, for example, Süleymaniye Kütüphanesi MS Resid efendi 608/3.
95
119
Irmiyā = the prophet Jeremiah.