Curiously enough, Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí combined the most extravagant mysticism with the straitest orthodoxy. "He was a Ẓáhirite (literalist) in religion and a Báṭinite (spiritualist) in his speculative beliefs."751 He rejected all authority ( taqlíd). "I am not one of those who say, 'Ibn Ḥazm said so-and-so, Aḥmad752 said so-and-so, al-Nu‘mán753 said so-and-so,'" he declares in one of his poems. But although he insisted on punctilious adherence to the letter of the sacred law, we may suspect that his refusal to follow any human authority, analogy, or opinion was simply the overweening presumption of the seer who regards himself as divinely illuminated and infallible. Many theologians were scandalised by the apparently blasphemous expressions which occur in his writings, and taxed him with holding heretical doctrines, e.g., the incarnation of God in man ( ḥulúl) and the identification of man with God ( ittiḥád). Centuries passed, but controversy continued to rage over him. He found numerous and enthusiastic partisans, who urged that the utterances of the saints must not be interpreted literally nor criticised at all. It was recognised, however, that such high mysteries were unsuitable for the weaker brethren, so that many even of those who firmly believed in his sanctity discouraged the reading of his books. They were read nevertheless, publicly and privately, from one end of the Muḥammadan world to the other; people copied them for the sake of obtaining the author's blessing, and the manuscripts were eagerly bought. Among the distinguished men who wrote in his defence we can mention here only Majdu ’l-Dín al-Fírúzábádí (õ 1414 a.d.), the author of the great Arabic lexicon entitled al-Qámús; Jalálu ’l-Dín al-Suyúṭí (õ 1445 a.d.); and ‘Abdu ’l-Wahháb al-Sha‘rání (õ 1565 a.d.). The fundamental principle of his system is the Unity of Being ( waḥdatu ’l-wujúd). There is no real difference between the Essence and its attributes or, in other words, between God and the universe. All created things subsist eternally as ideas ( a‘yán thábita) in the knowledge of God, and since being is identical with knowledge, their "creation" only means His knowing them, or Himself, under the aspect of actuality; the universe, in fact, is the concrete sum of the relations of the Essence as subject to itself as object. This pantheistic monism puts on an Islamic mask in the doctrine of "the Perfect Man" ( al-Insán al-Kámil), a phrase which Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí was the first to associate with it. The Divine consciousness, evolving through a series of five planes ( ḥaḍarát), attains to complete expression in Man, the microcosmic being who unites the creative and creaturely attributes of the Essence and is at once The doctrine of the Perfect Man. the image of God and the archetype of the universe. Only through him does God know Himself and make Himself known; he is the eye of the world whereby God sees His own works. The daring paradoxes of Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí's dialectic are illustrated by such verses as these:—

He praises me (by manifesting my perfections and creating me in His form),And I praise Him (by manifesting His perfections and obeying Him).How can He be independent when I help and aid Him? (because the Divine attributes derive the possibility of manifestation from their human correlates).For that cause God brought me into existence,And I know Him and bring Him into existence (in my knowledge and contemplation of Him).754

Thus it is the primary function of Man to reveal and realise his Divine nature; and the Perfect Men, regarded individually, are the prophets and saints. Here the doctrine—an amalgam of Manichæan, Gnostic, Neo-platonic and Christian speculations—attaches itself to Muḥammad, "the Seal of the prophets." According to Moslem belief, the pre-existent Spirit or Light of Muḥammad ( Núr Muḥammadí) became incarnate in Adam and in the whole series of prophets, of whom Muḥammad is the last. Muḥammad, then, is the Logos,755 the Mediator, the Vicegerent of God ( Khalífat Allah), the God-Man who has descended to this earthly sphere to make manifest the glory of Him who brought the universe into existence.

But, of course, Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí's philosophy carries him far beyond the realm of positive religion. If God is the "self" of all things sensible and intelligible, it follows that He reveals Himself in every form of belief in a degree proportionate to the pre-determined capacity of the believer; the mystic alone sees that He is One in all forms, for the mystic's heart is all-receptive: it assumes whatever form God reveals Himself in, as wax takes the impression of the seal.

"My heart is capable of every form,A cloister for the monk, a fane for idols,A pasture for gazelles, the pilgrim's Ka‘ba,The Tables of the Torah, the Koran.Love is the faith I hold: wherever turnHis camels, still the one true faith is mine."756

The vast bulk of Ibnu ’l-‘Arabí's writings, his technical and scholastic terminology, his recondite modes of thought, and the lack of method in his exposition have, until recently, deterred European Orientalists from bestowing on him the attention which he deserves.757 In the history of Ṣúfiism his name marks an epoch: it is owing to him that what began as a profoundly religious personal movement in Islam ends as an eclectic and definitely pantheistic system of philosophy. The title of "The Grand Master" ( al-Shaykh al-Akbar), by which he is commonly designated, bears witness to his supremacy in the world of Moslem mysticism from the Mongol Invasion to the present day. In Persia and Turkey his influence has been enormous, and through his pupil, Ṣadru ’l-Dín of Qóniya, he is linked with the greatest of all Ṣúfí poets, Jalálu ’l-Dín Rúmí, the author of the Mathnawí, who died some thirty years after him. Nor did all those who borrowed his ideas call themselves Moslems. He inspired, amongst other mediæval Christian writers, "the Illuminated Doctor" Raymond Lull, and probably Dante.758

CHAPTER IX

THE ARABS IN EUROPE

It will be remembered that before the end of the first century of the Hijra, in the reign of the Umayyad Caliph, Walíd b. ‘Abd al-Malik (705-715 a.d.), the Moslems under Ṭáriq and Músá b. Nuṣayr, crossed the Mediterranean, and having defeated Roderic the Goth in a great battle near Cadiz, rapidly brought the whole of Spain into subjection. The fate of the new province was long doubtful. The Berber insurrection which raged in Africa (734-742 a.d.) spread to Spain and threatened to exterminate the handful of Arab colonists; and no sooner was this danger past than the victors began to rekindle the old feuds and jealousies which they had inherited from their ancestors of Qays and Kalb. Once more the rival factions of Syria and Yemen flew to arms, and the land was plunged in anarchy.

Meanwhile ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán b. Mu‘áwiya, a grandson of the Caliph Hishám, had escaped from the general massacre ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, the Umayyad. with which the ‘Abbásids celebrated their triumph over the House of Umayya, and after five years of wandering adventure, accompanied only by his faithful freedman, Badr, had reached the neighbourhood of Ceuta, where he found a precarious shelter with the Berber tribes. Young, ambitious, and full of confidence in his destiny, ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán conceived the bold plan of throwing himself into Spain and of winning a kingdom with the help of the Arabs, amongst whom, as he well knew, there were many clients of his own family. Accordingly in 755 a.d. he sent Badr across the sea on a secret mission. The envoy accomplished even more than was expected of him. To gain over the clients was easy, for ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán was their natural chief, and in the event of his success they would share with him the prize. Their number, however, was comparatively small. The pretender could not hope to achieve anything unless he were supported by one of the great parties, Syrians or Yemenites. At this time the former, led by the feeble governor, Yúsuf b. ‘Abd al-Raḥmán al-Fihrí, and his cruel but capable lieutenant, Ṣumayl b. Ḥátim, held the reins of power and were pursuing their adversaries with ruthless ferocity. The Yemenites, therefore, hastened to range themselves on the side of ‘Abdu ’l-Raḥmán, not that they loved his cause, but inspired solely by the prospect of taking a bloody vengeance upon the Syrians. These Spanish Moslems belonged to the true Bedouin stock!