Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Nasir-I Khusraw and Ismailism
Nasir-I Khusraw and Ismailism
Series B No. 5 Edited for the "Ismaili Society" by W. Ivanow (formerly Assistant
Keeper, the Asiatic Museum of the Russian Academy of Sciences, St. Petersburg.)
1948
Printed by Thacker & Co., Ltd., Bombay, India. Copies printed: 600
Sold by: In Europe: E.J. Brill, Oude Rijn, 33A, Leiden, Holland. In the East: Thacker &
Co., Ltd., Rampart Row, Bombay, India.
Table of Contents
NOTICE.
PREFACE
Introduction
a) Nisba.
b) Name.
2. Conversion
3. Nasir's Confession. 9
(Ayatu'l-bay'at).
(al-Balad al-Amin)
(Wisdom Revealed).
(Oath of secrecy).
7. Khwaja Mu'ayyid.
Khwanu'l-Ikhwan.
Zadu'l-Musafirin.
Wajh-i din.
Diwan.
The legend, or cycle of legends, which has grown around Nasir's name, has been
deliberately ignored here. These legends by themselves may present a fascinating subject
of research for specialists in folklore, perhaps of much wider interest than merely for the
biography of the worthy. But for our purposes references to the legend would merely
introduce confusion and complicate our work.
I have to offer my sincere thanks to those of my Ismaili friends who gave me their
valuable assistance in this study, and the "Ismaili Society" who have kindly taken up the
publication of this note in their series.
Bombay, May, 1947.
W. IVANOW.
Having decided to edit the text and prepare a translation, I made up my mind to go
through all the known works of Nasir, in the first instance in order to look for any
reference to the Shish-fasl, and, secondly, with the object of generally ascertaining its
position amongst other works byt he same author. In the process of doing so I came
across many references to Nasir's biography, personality, activities, and so forth, chiefly
connected with his position in Ismailism. Many of this had already been known to
students for a long time. But, owing to very insufficient and erroneous ideas of Ismaili
doctrine, and generally of Ismaili affairs of his time, known only through the falsified and
distorted accounts of enemies of the movement, it was usually either disregarded or
wrongly interpreted. As the connection with Ismailism forms the pivot of the story of
Nasir, I believe it would be useful to students to systemize and make accessible such
references. I have no ambition to rewrite here Nasir's biography. As for this, I am sure,
the time has not yet arrived.
The chief purpose of this note, therefore, is to draw the attention of students to the fact
that the traditional view-point upon the subject requires thorough revision. Nasir's bulky
Diwan merits further study, with new methods and new orientation. Owing to its peculiar
nature, as explained further on, it is more replete with biographical allusion than, perhaps,
the diwan's of many Persian poets, especially of Nasir's period.
A moralist, such as Nasir-i Khusraw himself was, might relish citing his case as an
example of "reward in life after death." How many talented poets attained recognition,
wealth, well-deserved fame and admiration during their life-time only to be soon
forgotten? But the unfortunate Nasir, whose life was one of suffering and the misery of
exile on a wild place, now, nine hundred years after his death, has become a real
celebrity. All his works are being edited and studied, streets are named after him in the
capital Persian, and in many other ways is he remembered. Hardly any other Persian
author, except perhaps that fictitious collective poet who is known under the name of
‘Umar Khayyam, can rival his case. And yet a cynic may easily prove that all this is as
much a play of incidental concatenation of circumstances as in any other instance. The
attention of the West was drawn to Nasir not by his poetry, moralization, or faithfulness
to the Ismailism, but by his Safar-nama, an account of a journey which he undertook not
out of pure love of adventure, and described in the course of the propaganda campaign to
glorify the Imam of his time. His poetry, which next attracted attention, evoked the
admiration of European scholars not for its artistic perfection, but for quite an incidental
reason. At that time in Germany, and more so in early and mid-Victorian England, people
were still much under the influence of the Bible. In the crude and rustic poetry and
primitive moralizing of Nasir such scholars found, perhaps quite unconsciously,
something which to a great extent coincided with their habitual idea of the "real wisdom
of the East," really "inspired poetry." While being unable not to appreciate, but often
simply to follow, the really great achievements of the poetical art of Persian as too exotic
for them, they were quite at home in the primitive, simple writings of the exile of
Yamgan. Nasir's fame in Persia is an imported product. It has been brought from Europe
together with many other foreign notions. Still in the second half of the last century the
name of Nasir merely conveyed to the educated Persian an idea of a super-heretic and
super-magician, as he was painted by the legend. His works remained practically
unknown except for the two didactic mathnawis and a few qasidas.
We know the best Nasir as the traveller, have some idea of him as poet and moralist, but
our hitherto universally accepted ideas of him as an Ismaili appear not only insufficient
but mostly incorrect. This paper is intended to some extent to fill this gap. For the sake of
brevity I will presume that the reader is sufficiently acquainted with the general
biography of Nasir, from the introduction by Sayyid Hasan Taqi-Zada which he prefaced
to the Teheran edition of the Diwan (1929), written in Persian, or from the pages devoted
to the poet in E.G. Browne's "Literary History of Persia" (which is substantially obsolete
now). Taqi-Zada's work, excellent as it is, however, possess a serious drawback against
which the reader is to be warned: it does not reject the legend which has already begun to
grow around Nasir's name at amazingly early period. It tries to find a way of reconciling
and making partial use of it in a biography chiefly based on the analysis of the author's
works themselves. Personally, I believe it would be a safer policy not to touch a source of
information to which we have no key to understanding. This possibility may not be
entirely ruled out that such legends contained grains of truth, but truth distorted and
perverted is as useless as plain untruth.
Popular collective fancy and imagination turned Nasir into a super- magician and super-
heretic, just as Avicenna became a super-scholar, Hasan b. as- Sabbah a super-assassin,
Abdu'l-lah b. Maymun al-Qaddah a diabolical conspirator, and so forth. Popular memory
is remarkably inconsistent. While may real heroes and great men are completely
forgotten within a comparatively short time, fantastic figures arise, who, once created,
live centuries, ad instead of fading out of memory, they increase in stature and acquire
more glamour. In the case of Nasir-i Khusraw we may believe that his selection for such
an absurd part was made not so much for his own attainments but on account of his close
association with Ismailism. The grandeur of the background, against which his solitary
figure stood, magnified it immensely, striking popular imagination, and setting it at work.
Persians are real poets by nature, but at the same time very conservative and rather
inactive in their mental life. They would not be bored by the retelling of the story of
Layla and Majnun or Khusraw and Shirin by scores of poets, but would take special
interest in the question as to how it was retold. Thus the original theme of Nasir the
magician, one invented, was permanently introduced into the field of Persian mythology,
and retold with absurd and fantastic details, entirely divorced from historical truth.
a) Nisba.
It is strange to note that Nasir's nisba was so often discussed in detail, and nothing
definite was decided. Nisba does not necessarily indicate the exact place of its owner's
birth. In modern practice, which was obviously also at work during the mediaeval periods
in Persian history, for the convenience of the public every one who was born in a small
and little known village or town would designate himself after the province to which his
native place belonged, or, if the province was very large, the capital town of the district.
Thus a native and inhabitant of Qasimabad, a hamlet in the district of Sirjan, in the
province of Kirman, would call himself not Qasimabadi, but Kirmani. It was only when
special precision was for some reason required, would he call himself Kirmani Sirjani
Qasimabadi (or use these nisbas in reverse order).
Nasir-i Khusraw who called himself Marwazi Qubadiyani, although in is Diwan he very
frequently mentions Balkh as his residence where he had his house and family, is
perfectly right. He was born in Qubadiyan whixh was a small town known little outside
the province to which it belonged. As the capital of the state to which Qubadiyan
belonged was Mrw, he called himself aslo Marwazi. Balkh was merely his residence,
probably temporary, although he obviously had there some immovable property. Thus
there is nothing in the least strange in his two nisbas.
b) Name.
In his Safar-nama he calls himself Abu Mu'in Nasir b. Khusraw. The participial forms
Mu'in, Nasir were at that time, when they came into general use, always combined with
din, dawla, etc. it is difficult to believe that Mu'in by itself was used as an official name;
it should have been Mu'inu'd-din. Similarly, Nasir is an abbreviation, and originally
should have been Nasiru'd-din. Such names, or rather religious surnames, did not form
the original name of a man, but were given, or assumed, as a sign of respectability, of
belonging to the middle or upper class. Thus we may note that in reality we do not know
the original name of Nasir-i Khusraw.
It is often said that ‘Alawi means Shi'ite. I doubt very much that this was ever so. When,
as Mr. Taqi-Zada points out, he incidentally calls himself a Fatimi, this is perfectly right.
Early Ismailis really called themselves Fatimi. Thus there is quite enough reason to
believe that Nasir was really a Sayyid, but as it was probably difficult to prove this with
documents in hand, he exercised modesty and religious self-effacement in connection
with this.
We may note that the change of the dynasties took place in his mother country in
429/1038, when he was already 35 years of age. When only eight years later, in
437/end1045, he sat out on his great journey, he was, as he himself writes, a kind of
controller of accounts in provincial revenue offices, a post of some importance but, of
course, by no means one of the highest in the state. The details of his journey fully so
support the impression that he was far from a top ranking official. He starts with only his
brother and a single Indian slave. Surely, an official of importance would not go on a
pilgrimage in such an "austere" manner. It is quite probable that the change of dynasty
had affected his career, as can be seen from the mention of his own brother who probably
occupied a very high post. That high position of his brother perhaps may explain his
personal experience at the Ghaznawid court. The patriarchal conditions of life at that
remote period would easily have permitted the successful courtier to bring to the court his
relatives who could serve in some way.
Being very religious by nature, Nasir was also very supertitious, believing in all sorts of
tilisms, astrological calculations, and so forth. He himself mentions that he tried his hand
at alchemy "out of greed." In all his works it is difficult to discern any sign of high
theological erudition, "the learning" of his time, and specially any spark of originality, of
creative genius. Almost all his prose works (except, of course, the safar-nama), deal with
elementary philosophic matters, which he repeated over and over again, never making
any advance or introducing any new and original idea. He surely can be compared neither
with such an erudite Ismaili scholar as Abu Hatim ar-Razi, nor a masterly expert in
theology and philosophy such as Hamidu'd- din al-Kirmani, nor even the second class
author such as Abu Ya'qub as-Sijistani or as-Sijzi, whom he attacks and abuses. His
contemporary and teacher, al-Mu'ayyid ash-Shirazi, a diplomatical and seriously learned,
intelligent man, was certainly much superior to him.
A tall, robust, rustic looking man, Nasir brings into his works the rustic, primitive
atmosphere. All of them bear the indellible stamp of rustic uncouthness, crudeness, and
of a hard struggle in expressing even the most ordinary ideas. Nasir was not a pioneer in
writing on philosophical matters in Persian, but his style is extremely unartistic, dull, full
of unnecessary repetitions, -again no spark of genius, or originality, all monotonously
boring, invariably tending to the repetition of commonplace truths and platitudes.
As he appears in his best work, the Safar-nama, he was by his outlook a country squire,
always with a keen eye on matters which belong to the usual circle of interests in his
native country. He pays special attention to irrigational facilities of the lands through
which he passes, bazar prices, trade, industry, in addition to his favourite tilisms, and
other superstitious beliefs. Historical associations do not exist for him; apparently he
knew nothing of history.
But it would be wrong to take him for a sincerely and deeply modest man, conscious of
his own short-comings. No, he knows his own price, and even puts it far higher than
would others. He never misses an opportunity for boasting, and his own learning and
works appear particularly important and valuable to him. His drama is his frustrations,
non-recognition of his own importance.
Of what religion was Nasir originally? There is no direct answer to this question in his
works, including the Diwan. He continually eulogizes the Imam of his time, al-Mustansir
bi'l-lah, sometimes, very ambiguously referring to eminent Ismaili worthies, as to
Mu'ayyid, Nu'man (Qadi Nu'man, the great Ismaili jurist, d. 363/974), and others. His
references to Sunnism are invariable hostile. But what he invariably passes over in
silence is the Ithna-'ashari doctrine and Imams. This is not because this branch of Shi'ism
was not within his sphere of vision. We know perfectly well how widespread of Shi'ism
in Khorasan and Central Asia in the fourth/tenth c. Balkh, Samarqand, Marw, and other
cities had important Shi'ite centers. Ibn Babuya, the famous Ithna-'ashari theologian
(d.381/991 or 1001), spent many years studying hadiths in the East prior to his departure
to Bhaghdad, the inefficient Ghaznawid government hardly ever took energetic measures
to suppress the Shi'ites. The Saljuqs altered this order of affairs, but by that time Nasir
was, as we have already seen, 35 years of age. Nasir's own rather boastful references to
his "search for the truth," i.e. true religion, search for knowledge, and so forth, should not
be taken too literally. For him obviously the truth was only in Islam, and we may easily
realize that the "truth" was the authentic interpretation of religion which can be received
only from the Imam. It is thus quite possible that he might have been a Shi'ite. Perhaps
the change of the dynasty, if it upset his career, the frustration of his youthful ambitions,
even his probable contact with the Ismailis - all this together possibly inspired him to
espouse the cause of the Fatimids whose star had never risen so high as at that particular
time (only to begin its rapid declines almost at once). We know how many eminent Ithan-
'asari Shi'ites turned to Ismailism, and attained high positions in it, obviously taking their
new religion sincerely and enthusiastically.
Popular religious psychology usually ignores the lengthy and often very painful process
of "conversion," in a broad sense, to a new religion, with all its doubts, internal struggle,
and other similar experiences, and remembers only that final and decisive moment that
"flashes" to the convert who either "repents" or in some other way manifests his complete
changeover. It is like the vision of St. Paul on the road to Damascus. Nasir, strangely,
never mentions such an all important moment, and this also to some extent may speak in
favour of an admission of his Shi'ite persuasion. As a Shi'ite he had merely to transfer his
allegiance from one line of the Imams to another, and this would be, of course, a far less
serious step than the conversion to Ismailism of a Christian, or even a Sunni.
Disregarding rather obscure allusions in his Diwan, we have two important statements by
Nasir pertaining to his conversion. One of the oft-cited story of his religious dream, at the
beginning of the Safar-nama, and another in his "confession" in the form of the lengthiest
of his qasidas (Diwan, pp. 172-177), known as "the poem in which he mentions the date
of his birth." it is poetry (and that makes all the difference), but fully deserves careful
study. We shall return to it presently. The passage in the Safar-nama (p.2) is well known
but we must take it up again.
"On a certain night I saw a dream hat ‘someone' (yaki) said to me: How long art thou
going to go on drinking the potion that ruins human reason? It would be better for thee to
become sober. - I answered: The wise have not invented any better means for the purpose
of reducing the sorrows of the world. - (The man in the dream) said: Senselessness and
unconsciousness do not bring peace of mind. One cannot be called a wise man who leads
people to unconsciousness. It is necessary to search for something that increases reason
and wisdom. - I asked: Where can I find that? - He replied: Those who search will find. -
He waved his hand in the direction of the qibla, i.e. Mekka, South West (which is also the
direction of Cairo) and said nothing more."
If this is an allegory, as it obviously is, then its implications are perfectly clear, and the
fact that Nasir offers his elaborate explanations, even quoting a hadith, and shows such
ostentatious frankness, makes it rather overdone. It is really necessary for a pious Muslim
to introduce a prophetic dream to explain his desire to go on pilgrimage? "Significant
dreams" to this day influence the decision in many peoples' lives, especially in Muslim
society. In the dream described by Nasir, the most important point is who was the man
who admonished him to cease drinking. Surely, Nasir himself well knew the harm that he
was causing to himself, but obviously the speaker in the dream was someone of special
importance, the Prophet or the Imam, not named by him out of peculiar modesty. It is
generally believed that the Prophet may "appear in a dream" only to deserving and pious
people, and would not visit others. Thus the mention of the holy visitor is equivalent to
the narrator's claim to exceptional piety and virtue.
It is therefore quite plausible that that is what Nasir wants to say. Perhaps his
dissatisfaction with the conditions that came about under the Saljuqs, and probably
sincere devotion to religion of the Shi'ite type, caused Nasir to be converted to Ismailism
where he could recover from chronic drunkenness, i.e. practicing religious life without
knowing its real meaning and implications. He was awakened from his intoxication, i.e.
converted, and later he was summoned to Cairo, perhaps for higher training and
instructions. Three hundred years later, another Ismaili, Nizar Quhistani of Birjand, in his
versified Safar-name, exactly in the same way speaks of his own drunkenness, and then
of his revival and departure towards the Southern Caucasus where the Imam of his time
was hiding in disguise. We know also that some time after his conversion, Hasan b. as-
Sabbah was also sent to Cairo.
If we accept this interpretation of his "dream," it will be understand why his departure
shows the signs of suddenness, - the orders came, and he had to go. The route that he had
taken strengthens this impression. If he had been a high official of the Saljuqs state, he
certainly would have travelled with the annual hajj caravan, in relative safety and greater
comfort, by shorter routes. Instead of this, Nasir departs with only his brother and a slave,
obviously in order not to have witnesses.
An interesting point is the question of his being financed on his way. Surely, to have
carried enough gold for the expense of three men and several animals on an eight
thousand miles' journey, would have necessitated quite a large sum of money, and would
have exposed the party to grave risks. We see, however, that he always finds someone to
help him to reach the next stage where he wold receive further help. Would it therefore
not be possible to suppose that the route which he took was chosen in consideration of the
Ismaili "cells" at which he, provided with necessary certificates, could "refuel" on his
journey? He highly praises his benefactors, and this is an additional indication of their
belonging to the sect. In his Safar-nama Nasir does not waste praises on anybody or
anything unconnected with Ismailism and the Fatimids.
Where and when his conversion took place, we have no means of ascertaining. But from
what is mentioned above we may infer that it took place a considerable time - at least
several years - before his rather sudden departure. Surely not every new convert was sent
to Egypt, and not immediately after his having been converted.
The poem, as so many of Nasir's poems, opens with the usual complaints on the injustice
of the destiny which, without any apparent reason, gives one plenty, while hunger and
thirst to another, and which "has driven him into that dusty corner." The confession
begins with p.173, verse 7:
"Unlock thy heart, and take the Coran as thy (sole) guide,
"So that thou mayest know the right path, and that the door (of salvation) might become
opened to thee.
"I would not be surprised if thou dost not find that path (easily),
"Because I was like thyself, lost and bewildered for a long time.
"When 394 years have passed since the flight (hijra) of the Prophet,
"My mother gave birth to me, bringing me into this dusty abode,
"As an unconscious growing being, similar to plants
"Which are born from black soil and drops of water . . ."
(He goes on, mentioning the stages of the development of the human organism in
accordance with the usual theories of his time).
(13) "When the heavens had measured out 42 years of life to me,
"My conscious self began to search for wisdom (khirad).
"I listened to the learned, or read books in which they explained
"The constitution of the celestial spheres, the movement of time and elements.
(15) "Feeling that to me my own body is the dearest,
"I inferred that in the world thee must be some one who is the most precious of all that
had been created,
"Just as the falcon is the noblest of the birds, or the camel amongst the quadrupeds,
"Or the date palm amongst the trees, or ruby amongst the jewels,
"Just as the Coran amongst the books, or Ka'ba amongst the houses,
"Or the heart amongst the organs of the body, the sun amongst the luminaries,
"As I pondered over this, my soul was filled with sad thoughts.
"I began to ask questions from thinking people of their opinions:
"From the Shafi'ites, Malikites, Hanafites I asked what they said.
"I began to search for the guidance of the Chosen One of God (i.e. the Prophet).
(20) "But when I asked (my teachers) about the reasons for (various) injunctions of the
religion, or the verses of the Coran on which they are based,
"None proved to be helpful, one resembling the blind, and the other the deaf.
(Ayatu'l-bay'at).
"Once I happened to read in the Coran the "verse of the oath" (LXVIII, 18),
"The verse in which God said that His hand was stretched out (for being touched while
swearing allegiance).
"Those people who swore allegiance "under the tree" (i.e. at Hudaybiyya, in the 6thyear
A.H.)
"Were the people like Ja'far, Migdad, Salman and Abu Dharr.
"I asked a question from myself; what had happened to that tree, that hand.
"Where can I now find that hand, that oath, that place?
"The answer to this was only: there is now neither the tree nor that hand,
"That ‘hand' had been scattered, the assembly had dispersed.
(25) "All of them were (sincerely) devoted to the Prophet, and were rewarded with
Paradise,
"Particularly for having taken that oath, being chosen from amongst the ordinary mortals.
(p.174) "Said I (to myself): In the Coran (XXV, 58,62; IX, 32) it appears that Ahmad
"Is the Announcer and Paradise (of the Truth), the Light shining (in darkness).
"If any unbeliever wishes to distinguish that Light, bowing with mouth,
"God will re-light it again, despite the efforts of all the unbelievers.
"How has it come about that to-day there is neither that hand nor those men?
"The word of God, surely, cannot turn out to be untrue.
"Whose hand should we touch when swearing allegiance to God?
"Or should not (Divine) justice treat equally those who came first and those who came
later?
(5) "What is our fault that we were not born at that time?
"Why should we be deprived of personal contact with the Prophet, thus being (unjustly)
punished?
The questions which worried him, and to which he could find no satisfactory answer,
such as that about the "hand" i.e. the principle that only the progeny of the Prophet could
have the legitimate right of supreme authority in Islam, are elementary Ismaili. This is
said in poetry, and we must expect some simplified and primitive scheme. It would be
interesting to find the real implication of his expression in which he refers to the "hand"
being scattered (an dast parakinds shud). This may well refer to the school of the Twlever
Shi'ites and discontinuation of Imamat.
His seeking knowledge from the Sindis, Turks, Manichees, and others, is obviously a
poetical figure. If he sought such knowledge, it was alchemical, astrological, but certainly
not religious. The knowledge was obviously for him the Imam's super-knowledge in the
Shi'ite sense. His philosophical quests appear to be a list of the contents of his own
works: all exasperatingly dull and lengthy discussions of the creation, of ‘aql, nafs,
hayula, and so forth; the problem of predestination, evil, with occasional excursions into
the field of physics. All this, beyond any doubt, he found in plenty in the dawat literature
of his time, and, later on, having translated it into simple, primitive Persian to suit his
probably not highly educated pupils, he repeatedly offered it in the form of his
philosophical books. It seems that he possessed neither talent nor systematical schooling
to be a real philosopher, i.e. one who creates new ideas and not merely repeats what he
has read.
The enchanted city in which he arrives, and in which al-Mu'ayyid is the Warden of the
Gates, is not Cairo. His al-baladu'l-amin, an expression which is taken from the Coran
(XCV,3), is the ideal Alid state, the advent of which the Fatimids were preaching. Shi'ite
expressions are sometimes alluded to in his Diwan. In some places he is quite outspoken
(p.431, lines 14-16) : "The world cherisheth the hope of thy victory (he addresses al-
Mustansir bi-llah), expecting that thou wilt sweep off the dust from thy sword. When
thou seest the whole of it (i.e. conquerest the whole world), at once peace will descend
upon it, after all those disasters and calamities. When thou dismountest from thy horse in
Baghdad, the Abbasid devil will come out to greet thee, slaughtering his own son as
sacrifice for thy good luck." This is probably a vague echo of the events of Nasir's time
when the khutba for the Fatimids was inroduced in Baghdad by al-Basasiri (killed in
451/1060).
The late Prof. E.G. Browne proclaimed Nasir-i Khusraw as a rare exception amongst the
Persian poets who wrote his poetry as "an artist creating for art's sake," never making it a
means of attaining any material advantage. Prof. Browne was as incorrigible optimist.
Surely, the poem that is translated here, was not sent for nothing to al-Mu'ayyid, and it
clearly requests him to remind the Caliph about him. Nasir even plainly asks for
arrangements to be made that it should be recited by a certain Abu Ya'qub, obviously one
of those reciters of the Coran or poetry, heralds, who were employed at the Fatimid court.
Nasir's other poems are also of the same kind. Quite naturally they are all addressed to
eminent Ismaili people. We may ask, to whom else could a poet in the position of Nasir-i
Khusraw send poems from his Yumgan? Nasir was certainly no exception in this sense,
only he had no opportunities.
We shall discuss the question of his aim in dedicating such poem to al- Mu'ayyid, or to
the Caliph himself in the section devoted to Nasir's position in the Ismaili hierarchy.
According to the ideas of his time, qasida was a form of composition intended for a
definite purpose, and he hardly ever thought of disregarding this. From his works, we
cannot imagine him as a sort of modernist who would write "letters that have never been
posted," simply for pastime.
It is highly probable on logical grounds that to this period belongs his visit to
Mazandaran. Concerning the fact that such a visit took place there are apparently no
doubts. It is allude to in some of Nasir's poems, and attested by his contemporary, Abu'l-
Ma'ali Muhammad b. ‘Ubayidi'l-lah in his book, Kitab Bayani'l-adyan, completed in
485/1092. There would, of course, be nothing in the least strange in the fact that a
missionary, returning from Cairo with instructions and news to a locality comparatively
near to the Caspian provinces, would have been instructed to visit the place. Logically it
would be difficult to believe that he could make such a visit during his exile in Yumgan,
returning to it after having much opportunity to use his talents and enthusiasm in a far
wider and religiously promising area.
In Mazandaran itself, with its long connection with Shi'ism, its impenetrable jungles,
inaccessible gorges of the lofty mountains, and, at the same time, comparatively easy
communications with the outer world, he would obviously find conditions far superior to
those in the Yumgan trap. The most probable conjecture, therefore, would be that
sometime after his return from Egypt he went to the Caspian provinces, and returned to
Balkh, whence he had to flee to Yumgan. He often refers to that fateful event when the
crowd, probably incited by some fanatics, rushed to his house and destroyed it, and he
had a narrow escape. But, unfortunately for us, he never permits us to glean any details as
to when and how it happened. Such "prosaic" details would be quite unsuitable to poetry.
It is improbable, of course, that a crowd would attack a house of a pious Muslim who just
returned from the hajj pilgrimage. Surely some time had to pass before the real face of
Nasir became known to his neighbors. Quite possibly, after having rested for a few
months, he went to Mazandaran, remaining there a year or two. By that time his activities
and his association with the Fatimids perhaps became known, and when the news of his
return spread in Balkh, an attack on his life was made. He was incidentally saved by
flight. This appears to me the most logical course of events; but it must be noted that it is
simply a suggestion. Whither he fled from Balkh, and how he came to Yumgan, - of this
we know nothing.
If we look at the map, we may perhaps find some suggestions. Flight to the West was
obviously impossible because he would have been arrested on the desert roads which
follow the line of watering places. He therefore most probably turned to the localities
near his native Qubadiyan, perhaps in the hope of hiding amongst his own people. It is
quite probable that he was compelled to move further on, and it is not impossible that an
idea came to him to leave the Saljuq state and seek refuge with the Ghaznawids, in view
of his former associations. It is perhaps for this reason that he proceeded as far as
Yumgan, and ultimately found himself in a trap from which he never again was released.
Yumgan is the mane of a district, a side valley branching off the main Hindukush range,
irrigated by a stream which bears now the Turkish name of Kokeha ("blue river"), a
tributary of the Upper Oxus. The district begins a few miles above the town of Jarm
(4,800 feet above sea level). The valley, which is fairly broad and flat, rises rapidly in a
Southern direction, so that its average elevation is at least over 6,000 feet. It hot, dry and
dusty in summer and very cold in winter. There is little cultivation, it is thinly populated,
and the spot shown in the burial place of Nasir is situated in a hillock in the valley. There
is m nothing remarkable, as I was told by many Ismailis who have visited the spot, and
the grave is very modest. Local inhabitants who regard themselves as Sayyids, and
descendants of Nasir-i Khusraw, are fanatical Sunnis who by no means encourage Ismaili
pilgrimages to the grave. They believe their ancestor, Nasir, was a Sufic pir, and, being a
Sunni, had no connection whatsoever with Ismailism.
Those Shughnis, Chitralis, Zabakis, etc., from whom I tried to find information about the
grave of Nasir, and who professed to having visited the spot, invariably and uniformly
pronounced the name of the district as Yumgan, with ‘u', and the name of the town which
stands lower downstream as Jarm, with ‘a'. However, the Survey of India map (16 miles
to an inch, published in 1918) introduces "learned emendations," writing Jurm, Yamgan.
Such "editing" of geographical names is an invariable feature of the maps published by
that institution.
According to the information supplied by the pilgrims, the spurs of the Hindukush range
which form the valley are very high and steep, so that there are no cross-paths between
Yumgan and the neighboring valleys. In fact, there are only two exits, one in the North,
passing the town of Jarm, and the other, to the South, over the snow-clad passes leading
to the valley of Kabul and further to India.
It is quite possible, although this again is nothing but a suggestion, that, having decided to
go to the Ghaznawid country, Nasir entered Yumgan only to find that he was not wanted
by the prince. The accusation raised against him, that he was an agent of the Fatimids,
was too serious. It was punishable by death, and the Ghaznawids were hardly so liberal
on the one side, and, on the other, would scarcely risk injuring their neighborly relations
with the Saljuqs for the sake of a heretic. In a situation such as this, Nasir had to stay
where he was, in the narrow valley which proved to be his prison, and from which only
death released him.
Although rarely a qasida of Nasir does not contain complaints about his "prison" and his
hard life, privations, sufferings, old age, etc., he never permits us to form an opinion as to
how he was living there and what he was doing : was he really alone, or had some
disciples. If that was so, who were they, local people, or those who came from plains, to
learn from his wisdom? Was he preaching Ismailism locally? What were his facilities for
communication with the outside world?
We may only answer the last question: yes, surely, he had some means of communication
with the outer world, even with Egypt, as otherwise he would not have written his qasidas
and perhaps other books. Most probably he was also able to receive dawat books from
Egypt; possibly also money for his upkeep.
Local tradition in Badakhshan (in a broader sense) repeats the story that Shah Sayyid
Nasir was busy with converting local inhabitants, and even undertook extensive journeys
in the East during which he visited India. I heard over and over again that all this is
narrated in a book, called Gawhar-riz, written by Nasir, narrating his adventures in the
East just as the Safar-nama describes his adventures in the West. For many years I hunted
for that elusive book, asking every Ismaili coming from those localities, without so far
having obtained it, or even getting on its track. From what it was possible to gather from
the better educated and trustworthy people from amongst those who professed to have
seen it, it is possible to express the opinion with a considerable degree of confidence, that
the Gawhar-riz is in fact either a part or imitation of the well-known legendary
autobiography of Nasir, and that it is a plain fake. Nevertheless it would, of course, be
very interesting to have a personal peep into it.
Nasir had a very unflattering opinion of the local inhibitants, most probably the peoples
of local Shina or Darda stock of whom possibly no trace remains now. It would appear
that the area generally was very sparsely populated, the people were very primitive, and
missionary work amongst them hardly satisfied an ambitious man like Nasir. Personally I
would not in the least trust the local tradition of Badakhshani Ismaili which regard Nasir
as the person who converted them to Ismailism. However paradoxical that may be, I
venture to express an opinion that the present Shughnis, Wakhis and others were not yet
settles there in Nasir's time. They came to that locality much later on.
Being much interested in the study of Persian dialects still spoken in various corners of
the country, I often found many proofs of the theory that wherever there is a "nest" of
villages speaking different dialects, we have to deal with a case of comparatively recent
migrations, produced by peaceful or other causes. The fact that in such an arid, rocky and
inaccessible locality as the valley of the Upper Wakhsh there are numerous hamlets the
population of which speak various dialects, sometimes considerably differing one from
the other, may indicate that such composite populations are due to a complex set of
migrations. The existence of the Soghdian- speaking enclave of Yaghnob, South of
Samarqand, may point the direction in which our search for explanation should go. It is
not beyond the limits of possibility to suppose that the "hill Tajiks" who inhabit the
hamlets of the Upper Wakhsh, and speak such a large set of profoundly varying dialects,
are early immigrants from the Soghdian plains who shifted there under the pressure of
repeated waves of invaders, such as the Turks, later on the Mongols, and then again the
Turks. As such migrations certainly were unorganized, the original inhabitants of one and
the same locality could have been split and settled in many corners, and there, in different
milieu, under varying influences, their original languages could have evolutionized in
diverse ways, in the course of centuries deviating very considerably from their sister-
dialects. If we also assume that the immigrants were sometimes compelled to migrate
owing to religious persecutions, and that especially the Shi'ites found themselves
persecuted, it would be easy to understand why the population of Badakhshan (in a broad
sense) professed Ismailism, perhaps since an early period, and remained faithful to Shah
Sayyid Nasir, creating the legend of their having been converted by him.
It was probably these Iranian immigrants from the Upper Zarafshan valley who brought
with them from Soghd the Ummu'l-kitab, the sacred book of their Khattabite forefathers
(Mukhammisa), and, retaining it, incorporated it into a small literature of the Ismaili
period which very slowly grew up amongst these often illiterate settlers. Nasir, in his
poems, never boasts of successes in his propaganda work, or mentions these in his
"reminders" to the Cairo headquarters. This however, is due to the fact that such matters
related to the dawat affairs which were inappropriate for mention in poetry.
There is much speculation over the date of Nasir's death. The latest date mentioned in his
Diwan makes him seventy years old, of course, in a round figure. This brings us to
464/1072. It is quite possible that a robust man like Nasir could have lived ten years
more. Thus possibly 465 to 470/1072-1077 would be the most probable date of his
demise. As far as I could ascertain from pilgrims, there is no date on his grave.
It may be noted that in India the Ismailis of the Musta'lian branch (the Bohras) have a
traditional tendency to disown Nasir, saying that he was a Nizari. This, of course, is
based on ignorance and the fact that Nasir's works are in Persian, and the Persian-
speaking Ismailis are now Nizaris. In fact, however, Nasir died about twenty years before
the Nizari-Musta'lian split in the community, and had nothing to do with it whatever. His
works compiled from Fatimid da'wat books, propound the same doctrine as the
contemporary Fatimid works in Arabic.
The functions of the hujjat in the Fatimid propaganda organization form one of the most
impenetrable mysteries for the student. It seems that no work clearly defines them. We do
not even know whether the hujjat resided in his province, or in Cairo, directing the affairs
in his see from thence. No names of hujjats have been preserved in Ismaili historical
books, or rather no cases have been recorded in which it is stated that so-and-so wa a
hujjat. The title of Sayyid-na Hamid'd-din al-Kirmani, hujjatu'l-'Iraqayn, may be simply a
honorific surname.
The territory of Khorasan during the early Saljuq period comprised Khorasan as it is now,
and included the North-Western part of what is now Afghanistan. We do not know
whether the Fatimids had such a poet as the hujjat of Khorasan, and whether he resided in
of its cities. It is, however, obvious that Nasir-i Khusraw, a comparatively new convert, a
man without much experience, compromised in the eyes of the local government, and, in
addition, trapped in a remote corner on the fringe of the province, was hardly suitable for
such a part. As to his pen-name in his poems, it would be much more reasonable to
suggest that it was simply a crude device to put a suggestion to the headquarters, an
indirect prayer tot he Imam for such an appointment. It would be extraordinary for him to
think that he could look after the affairs of his see from his "prison" in Yumgan. If he
could have escaped from there, it is strange that he had not done so much earlier. In such
a case we are entitled to think that his "detention" in Yumgan was not so much due to
danger from his enemies as to orders from Cairo, and that his qasidas, continually
fiddling in a plaintive tone on his sufferings, loneliness, old age, and many other similar
matters, were all intended to propitiate his masters and make them change their decision.
Judging from the fact that he died in Yumgan, we may infer that he never succeeded in
receiving that coveted gesture. So far as I could make out after years of inquires and
asking specialist in Ismaili religious literature, Nasir-i Khusraw's name is never
mentioned in Fatimid literature and his works simply do not exist in it, though probably
this is because they are in Persian.
Sayyid-na al-Mu'ayyid fi'd-din Abu Nasr Hibatu'l-lah b. al-Husayn b. ‘Ali b. Mhd ash-
Shirazi as-Salmani, a native of Shiraz or Ahwaz, where he flourished, ame to Cairo in the
same year as Nasir, 439/1047, and died there in 470/1077. Contrary to Nasir, he was
exceptionally well educated, knew Arabic excellently, wa a public man, playing a
prominent part in the Daylam, i.e. Persian Shi'ite party in its struggle against the "fifth
columnists," the Atrak, or pro-Turkish Sunni part, which raised its head wowing to the
development of the Saljuq successes. With the advance of the Saljuq the position of the
Daylam, and his own together with them, gradually deteriorated, and he had to flee to
Egypt. In his autobiography, Sirat Sayyid-na Al- Mu;ayyid, or as-Sirat al-Mu'ayyidiyya,
he gives an interesting picture of the state of Western Asia at the period of the Saljuq
invasion. It merits careful study by the historians of Persia. It has little or nothing to do
with religious matters and Ismailism, and is a vivid contrast to Nasir's Safar-nama in
every respect. It comes better in the head of memoirs such as those by Usama b.
Munqidh, Ibn Khaldun, and Nuwayri.
Sayyid-na Al-Mu'ayyid was a prolific author, and his main work was eight volumes of
his Majlis, each volume containing one hundred summaries of his lectures, written in
highly ornate prose. In their present form they have been edited by the post-Fatimid da'i,
Hatim b. Ibrahim (d.596/1199). He also prepared a synopsis of the whole work, in 18
babs, under the title of al-Mu'ayyiddiyya, arranging the quotations according to the
subjects.
For other works of al-Mu'ayyid see my "Guide," pp. 48-49. Here we may only note that
he has to his credit a small volume of Aran=bic poems. As he was probably a native of
Ahwaz, and as possibly he wrote also poetry in Persian, we may suggest that perhaps the
mysterious poet Ahwazi, referred to by Nasir, may in fact be al-Mu'ayyid in his young
days. A Persian translation of Qadi Nu'man's classic Asasu'l-ta'wil is also attributed to
him. Copies of this are very rare, but I managed to see one. Its language was quite
modern, and this may have been due to the fact that it was repeatedly modernized, or,
more probably, that it was prepared by some one in India in modern times, and was
attributed to al-Mu'ayyid simply beecause he was known as a Persian.
The works of al-Mu'ayyid still enjoy great popularity amongst the Musta'lian branch of
the Ismailis in India; from a literary point of view they present outstanding specimens of
artistic prose of the fifth/eleventh c., well meriting an edition. From the viewpoint of their
contents, and their value for the study of the history of Ismailism their importance would
hardly be great, however.
There is no doubt that he ultimately occupied a very high position at the court of al-
Mustansir bi'l-lah, but this must have taken place towards the end of his life. When Nasir-
i Khusraw came to Cairo, he also was a newcomer. Therefore Nasir's praises, the title of
"the Warden of the Gates" of the Holy City, etc., obviously belong to a much, later
period, when he was himself already in Yumgan.
The chronology of Nasir's works is extremely difficult. It seems to me that the earliest, or
at least one of the earliest, works should be Safar nama, for the obvious reason that it is
undoubtedly based on a diary which he kept while traveling. It is difficult to imagine that
at that tragic moment when he had to flee, he could have taken with him all his notes and
books.
Perhaps his really first poetical work was the Rawshana'i-nama which is sufficiently
familiar to students. As is known, much has been written on the date of its composition
which in different manuscript copies varies within a wide range between 323 to 463 A.H.
H. Ethe, who edited its text (together with some one's versified paraphrase which is found
in only one copy, and which the editor mistook for an introduction), on the basis of his
learned deductions, comes to the conclusion that the poem was completed in Cairo on the
‘Id-i Ftr day, 440/9-iii-1049. All this sounds very unconvincing because no known copy
actually has that date, and, of course, the question arise, for whom was the poem in
Persian intended in Cairo? It seems that the copy now at my disposal offers the solution.
It originates from Chitral, and was evidently transcribed by a man of limited literacy who
would hardly have ventured to adulterate the text. It gives the date 444 A.H. The verse in
which it is incorporated shows the correct metre together with plain sense, and this
circumstance inspires certain confidence. The archaic j here stands for ch:
Ba-sal-i jar (char) sad jil (chil) jar (char) bar sar
What makes me ready to accept this reading as correct is a small detail which is found
inall versions of the poem but which has so far invariably bee disregarded. It is bayt (541,
line 18 in the Diwan):
This does not sound a mere boast of the originality of his work, and may really indicate
the fact that the Rawshana'-i-nama was the first composition. As he says in the same
passage, he completed it within a week, and it was ready on the first of Shawwal 444, i.e.
24-i-1053. Why not believe that, having returned to his native Balkh, and having rested
after his long and adventurous journey, he took up his work during the month of
Ramadhan? Pious people often do similar work during the enforced leisure which the
month of fast brings with it. The tone and technic of his poem really show the hand of a
beginner.
But the story of the Rawshana'i-nama about which so much has already been written,
does not end here. The same copy from which the verse containing its date has been
quoted above, includes a short prose work, of which I have also received another copy,
but without the poem, and which is known in the greater Badakhshan" as Shish-fasl-i
Shah Sayyid Nasir, i.e. "Six-chaptered book" of Nasir. The remarkable fact is that the
original title of the booklet, as is unequivocally stated in its maqaddima, is also the
Rawshana'i-nama! The Author says: "Wa nam nihadim mar- u-ra Rawshana'i-nama bad-
an-chi andar u rawsha ast mar-khatir-ha-yi tira-ra . . ." the other copy, entirely
independent as can be seen, verbally agrees with this. It is therefore easy to see why the
Badakshanis, amongst whom the copies of the poetical Rawshana'i-nam are common, had
to introduce another title for the booklet.
The reason for such exceptional case as the use of the one title both for a poem and a
prose work by one and the same author is very difficult to find. The suggestion that the
prose work is an introduction to the poem seems improbable because neither contains any
mention of this, it is longer than the poem, and the manner of prefacing prose preambles
to poetical works appears in Persian literature only much later, perhaps first in the
Mathnawi of Rumi. The simple explanations would be that the prose Rawshana'i-nama is
a work of one of Nasir's pupils. But this supposition is positively contradicted by a
reference to an earlier work, Misbah wa Miftah, which the author claims as his own (wa
sharh-i ta'at wa khadu'-i ‘Aql mar Bari-ra Subhana-hu andar kitab-i Miftah was Misbah ki
pish az in ta'lif karda- im ba-dalil-ha-yi ‘aqli gufta shuda ast). This work is mentioned
both in Gusha'ish wa Raha'ish and Khawanu'l-Ikhwan in the expressions which imply its
being Nsir's own work.
The prose Rawshana'i-name is divided into six fasla: 1. Dar shinakht-i tawhid; 2. Ar
Kalima-i Bari; 3. Dar Nafs-i kull wa junbish-i u; 4. Dar payda amadan-i nafs-i mardum
ba ‘aql; 5. Dar wajib dashtan-i Natiq wa Asas wa Imam; 6. Dar thawab wa ‘iqab wa
sharh-i an. Thus it covers all the usual philosophical and religious topics. Probably quite
unconsciously, the author makes some Christain gnostic motifs and influences clearly felt
in his theories. I hope to edit and translate this work.
It is quite possible that another work with a Persian title, the Gusha'ish wa Raha'ish, may
also belong to an early period of the literary activities of Nasir. It is not mentioned in the
Shish-fasl, but referred to in the Khwabu'l-Ikhwan, and consists of questions and lengthy
answers, concerned with the same inevitable cosmic primal realities, the ‘Aql and Nafs,
but also takes considerable interest in physics. This, generally speaking, is also a proof of
the earlier origin of the work: in his later works Nasir does not touch on such matters.
It is quite possible that another well known mathnawi poem of Nasir, the Sa'adat-nama,
may either be an early work of his, or, perhaps, the work of one of his desciples, done
under the supervision. It is undoubtedly inferior to Rawshna'i-nama.
Nasir also refers in his later works to his Bustanu'l-'aql or Bustanu'i-'uqul,about which
nothing is otherwise known. For other works, mostly small risalas, of which some may be
genuine, but the majority are not, see my "Guide to Ismaili Literature," pp. 93-96. A few
notes on his major works, i.e. Khwanu'l-Ikhwan, Zadu'l-musafirin, Wajh-i din and the
Diwan, are offered here.
Khwanu'l-Ikhwan.
This work, "the feast (of knowledge and wisdom, offered) to brother (in religion)" was
edited in Cairo, 1940, by Dr. Yahya Khashshab from the copy dated 862/1458 in the Aya
Sophia Library, Constantinople. The edition, which shows traces of insufficient proof-
reading, is provided with a short introduction in French and an "austerity" index (for
which, of course, we, nevertheless, must be grateful to the editor). The work is divided
into a hundred chapters called saff ("row," presumably of guests, at the table), dealing
with the usual Nasir repertoire : creation, primal realities, soul, resurrection, retribution,
life after death, Barzakh, Hell, etc. The general impression the book produces is that of a
preliminary of the version of the Zadu'l-musafirin or notes from which it was later on
complied. The subjects seem to be exactly the same, but the treatment in the Zad is far
more systematic and mature. It cannot be called a da'wat work, but rather propaedeutics
to the full-blooded Ismaili haqa'iq works. It was apparently intended for the general
public, specially those people not much versed in Arabic. The author evidently makes
every effort to avoid Arabic terms, replacing these with the Persian equivalents, not
always with much success, however, and invariably translates every Arabic sentence that
he finds himself forced to quote. On the whole the book is not very closely connected
with Ismailism as a religion, and the fact that it has been preserved only in strictly
orthodox milieu (as were some of his other works) proves the absence in it of anything
that would shock a strictly orthodox reader.
The work, for these reasons, would hardly be of much use to the students of Ismailism
except for a few pages of controversial contents which relieve its monotony, its
moralizing tone, and its philosophical manner" the author strains every nerve to appeal to
reason more than anything. He takes some basic ideas which appear to him unshakable
foundations, and which invariably do not look at all convincing, and over them builds a
"house of cards" from his own deductions and inferences which lead us nowhere. It is
remarkable, however, that such methods have immense appeal for people brought up in
that school of thought. When I gave a copy of the Khwan to a learned Badakshani
Ismaili, it filled him with such admiration that he unhesitatingly proclaimed it the best
and most important work in Nasir's heritage.
The author refers in the khwanu'l-Ikhwan to his earlier works : Misbah (20,113,116),
Miftah (148, 153), Dala'il and Dalilu'l-mutahayyirin (239), and Gusha'ish was Raha'ish
(28, 85). He incidentally refers to Ibn Qutayba's Adabu'l- kitab (57) and Abu'l-Hasan al-
'Amiri's Maqalat (114), from general literature. Of the Ismaili works he mentions the
Bahira, Susu'l-baqa, the Kashfu'l-mahjub by Abu Ya'qub as-Sijistani, just as in the
Zadu'l-musafirin and gives interesting information concerning the early work, Kitabu'l-
Mahsul, which he definitely calls the work of the martyred eminent missionary, khwaja'i
shahid Abu'l-Hasan Nakhshabi (111, 112), although, as I have pointed out in my paper on
"Early Controversy in Ismailism," there are some doubts concerning this. He even
mentions Nasafi's sons (15) Dihqan and Hasan Mas'ud (signs of interrogation, however,
show that the editor was not quite certain as to the meaning of the passage). The most
interesting feature of the Khwan, however, if it is genuine, is a reference to ‘Abdan, the
sahib-i jazira'i Iraq,the rebel da'i of the third quarter of the third/ninth c. If it is not the
misreading ion the part of the editor, it is the first reference to him in Ismaili literature
that I have so far come across in spite of my persistent and long search and inquiries from
specialists. It is unfortunate that the editor in this text does not give references tot he
pages of the original manuscript. This should always be done when unique copies are
edited . It would be worthwhile obtaining a new set of photographs of the 42 saff, for re-
examining the matter.
Zadu'l-Musafirin.
This work, of which only two manuscripts are known, was edited in 1922 by the now late
Dr. M. Bazlu'r-Rahman, under the guidance of the late Prof. E.G. Browne, and printed in
the Kaviani Press, Berlin. Unfortunately for students, it was not provided with indices
without which it is extremely difficult to handle, and generally presents a relic of that
absurd policy of Cambridge University, faithfully copied by all Indian Universities, of
encouraging beginners to take a mouthful which they cannot swallow. Taking up text of
enormous size and serious difficulty which they are quite incapable of handling properly,
only instils students with complete distrust of their own abilities and powers, and for the
rest of their lives frightens them from undertaking any serious work. This proved to be
exactly the case of this work and its editor.
The work is divided in 27 qawls, devoted to the usual subjects such as matter, space,
time, movement, quiescence, the Creator, transience of the world, man, soul, retribution
in future life, and so forth. There is apparently not an original word in it, and the whole
may be safely classed as a compilation. Nasir's speculations, his method of artificial
constructions, deductions from usually quite fantastic and arbitrary basic ideas, all lead
the reader into quite a strange and unnatural world. The difference between the modern
mentality and his would approximate to the difference between photography and the
artist's expressing his visions in the pattern of an old Persian carpet. Both may portray the
garden and flowers, but the carpet way of expression is so much conventionalized that it
would require special efforts to decipher and understand what the artist was aiming at,
before we can believe that this is really a garden and that is really a flower.
In the same way as in most probably was the earlier version of this work, Khawanu'l-
Ikhwan, its almost unbearable monotony is slightly relieved by Nasir's taste for
controversy. Here also he makes an attack on Abu Ya'qub as-Sijzi, calling him a lunatic,
and charging him with heretical beliefs in tanasukh, transmigration of souls. In his
preceding work (112) he attributes similar views to the author of the Mahsul : "and he,
may God be pleased with him, teaches metempsychosis and transmigration of souls form
one body to another." Apparently similar beliefs in Sijistani's works evoke in him a very
sharp reaction. It would be difficult to believe that the cause was some personal
animosity, for the simple reason that, Abu Ya'qub died long before Nasir was born (sson
after 360/971). Anyhow, he again (421-430) refers to R. al-Bahira, Susu'l-baqa and
Kashfu'l-nahjub, mentioned above. The Bahira is in existence. It is an opuscule, in
Arabic, of about 2,250 words,
dealing with eschatology. Reading through its pages, one fails to discover any traces of
tanasukh.
We may also consider an important circumstance: as one may see from my paper on a
"Controversy," mentioned above, the Mahsul was specially examined and corrected by
one of the most erudite Ismaili specialists, Abu Katim ar-Razi, who was commissioned
by the headquarters to put dogmatical matters in order. This he dis in his K. al-Islah.
Some fifty years later, the whole question was re-examined again from the point of view
of the standard dogma, qanunu'd-da'wati'l-hadiya, by another eminent expert Sayyid-na
Hamidu'd-din al-Kirmani, in his K. ar-Riyad. He pointed out those statements of the
Mahsul which were overlooked by Razi. And yet neither of these two experts refer to any
heretical ideas of tanasukh entertained either by the author of the Mahsul, or by Sijzi.
What seems to me quite probable is that Nasir gives the term tanasukh some unusual
implications. We may suspect that it might have been what the theologians term the
dogma of "resurrection in flesh." Nasir, perhaps intentionally, does not make this clear in
order that his book should not seem outrageous to the orthodox.
He also accuses Abu Ya'qub of promoting the principle that those devotees who have
attained the "higher knowledge" may be exempted from the obligatoriness of the usual
forms of worship, and may be permitted to "worship in spirit." Such Sufic and gnostic
theory, as I have pointed out in the paper on "Controversy," was really lurking in the dark
corners of ta'wil speculations on the shari'at of Adam, and other similar tales. This,
however, is a long way from insanity and condemnation of Abu Ya'qub as a heretic.
In his Zadu'l-musafirin Nasir often attacks the Dahrites, or materlistic ideas of the famous
mediaeval philosopher, Mhd b. Zakariya ar-Razi (born 250/864, d. ca. 313/925),
"Rhazes," as he was called in Europe. It would be incautious, however, to believe that
such attacks were really due to Nasir's own familiarity with the doctrine of Rhazes, and
were not transplanted from those Fatimid works in Arabic in which they are quite
common, and which he perused.
This is, however, a really interesting feature in this work, namely, Nasir's references to
that enigmatic figure in the history of Muslim philosophy, a certain Iranshahri, of whom
no definite information has ever been discovered. Judging from Nasir's sympathetic and
respectful references to him, he might have had some connection with Ismailism.
Unfortunately, however, various references to him do not tally chronologically. Thus
there were either two persons, not one, with the name Iranshahri, or such anachronisms
may be due to a misreading of his name. "Hakim Iranshahri" (says Nasir, 98) . . .
"explained philosophical ideas in religious terms in his Kitab-i Jalil and Kitab-i Athir
[both unknown] and other works, calling people to the religion of God and the knowledge
of tawhid." Further on (102): . . .. "those good words which Hakim Iranshahri said
concerning the eternity of hayula and space." Thus it would be easy to suggest that the
Hakim was one of the learned Ismaili missionaries. As is known, Biruni, in his book on
India also refers to a certain Abu'l- 'Abbas al-Iranshshri, who seems to have been his
teacher, had some connection with India, and complied a book on various religions,
including Brahmanism and Shamanism (or Buddhism). He was in correspondence with
Biruni, and it was under his influence that the later undertook his famous work on India.
From all these allusions it may be inferred that he flourished towards the end of the
fourth/tenth and beginning of fifth/eleventh c.
This, however, is entirely obliterated by Nasir's reference to the "vile and heretical
words" of Rhazes in which he answered the theory of Iranshahri who, in addition, is
called the predecessor and teacher of Mhd b. Zakariya ar-Razi. Thus the period of his
activities must at once be moved back at least a century.
The rare nisba Iranshahri, written in Arabic letters, may perhaps be comfounded with
Abarshahri, from Abarshahr, the ancient name of Nishapur. Anyhow, Nasir does not help
us to solve the problem.
Wajh-i din.
Nasir's only book which is written in the style of Fatimid Ismaili works intended for the
use of students, is obviously a compilation from various Arabic works. Almost all
through the text one can feel that it is a translation from Arabic, retaining the original
order of words. It was printed by the Kaviani Press, Berlin, 1924, from the photographs
of a single modern copy. This edition is full of mistakes and badly needs a thorough
revision. The work surely deserves a decent critical edition, and especially a detailed
index of terms and subjects. The copies of this work are very common in the "greater
Badakshan," because the book is carefully studied by every literate Ismaili. The British
Museum has a copy of it dated 929/1523, while another, dated 1155/1742, is in my
possession.
It is a book for study and therefore does not contain any passages from which some
chronological indications may be gathered, and never refers to any earlier work. There is
no doubt that the contents of the Wajh-i din are entirely derived from the standard and
classic Ismaili works of the Fatimid period; it is not so easy, however, to identify which
of them Nasir perused, because his crude and rustic rendering into Persian not only
makes it difficult to see what Arabic term the author translated in this or that case, but
also entirely alters the general tone. We may ne perfectly sure that Nasir knew and
perused such basic Ismaili works as the Da'a'imu'l-Islam by Qadi Mu'man; or his Asasu't-
ta'wil; or the Ta'wilu'z-zakat and other works by Ja'far b. Mansuri-l-Yaman; various
works of his patron, al-Mu'ayyid, and others.
There is a vague allusion (210-211) to adverse circumstances and that was probably
persecution of the Shi'ites under the new Saljuq rule.
Diwan.
Just how long collection Nasir's poems which now is known as his Diwan was
accumulating, who took charge of his books and papers after his death, who selected his
poems for the earlier versions of hisDiwan, and how other poems came into various
anthologies, - all these questions have no answer. There is no doubt that amongst the
poems which are as his there may be many forgeries. This particularly applies to those of
them which develop atheistic, blasphemous, and other similar ideas. Such poems could
easily have been inspired by the legend of Nasir, as an arch- heretic, magician and
alchemist.
Rigid and complex rules governing matters of style in Persina poetry, as is known, leave
the poet almost no freedom to express his thoughts in plain, sensible form. He may only
allude to this or that, and such an allusion, is obviously intended for those who can
understand it. Therefore, for the students of Ismailism, the Diwandoes not promise much
useful information. Even what little the author really wished to, and could, reveal, he had,
by the requirements of style and poetics, to camouflage, cipher, efface, and make
unrecognizable in every possible way. Such poetical references are not only difficult to
decipher, but very often are treacherously misleading, especially in the case of the early
author such as Nasir.
In his preface to the Tehran edition of the Diwan (1929), Dr. Taqi-Zada discusses Nasir's
reference to his own "two diwans which are as bog as the diwansof Buhturi and ‘Unsuri'
(p. 15, line 3). He infers that in addition to his Persian diwan, Nasir had another one, in
Arabic. I am sure this is an error. No direct and plain reference to the existence of Nasir's
Arabic diwan is known, and we may be sure that if he had one he would not fail to refer
to it more than once. We may ask whether his qasidas were already arranged into a diwan
at that early time? And whether the expression "two diwans" must necessarily refer to
one Persian and one Arabic? Why not two Persian diwans? Many authors had several. In
addition to this we must consider that it is modern usage to call a collection of one's
poems simply"diwan". The mediaeval usage was to call them: diwan-i qasa'id, diwan-i
ghazaliyyat, whence we can see that the term diwan still retained its original meaning of a
"collection," "roll." It might also imply a collection of prose works. I very much doubt
that while he was still living there was anything existence like a collection of his qasidas,
arranged and prepared for use in public. His qasidas, surely, has a definite purpose, and if
he collected these, he probably intended them to go to Cairo headquarters, to which the
originals were first addressed. It is quite possible that his disciples copied some for their
own use, and that someone, devoted to his memory, after his death collected a certain
amount which became the nucleus of the Diwan as we know it.
To offer a sound judgement concerning the merits of Nasir's poems, and his relative place
amongst the prominent poets in Persian literature, would be possible only for those
Persians who are not only gifted with the necessary talents of art- critics, but also have
been brought up in the traditions of mediaeval Persian poetry. I doubt whether many
persons of such type are available now. Here I may only note a layman's impression
which, of course, have a purely personal origin, and do not in the least pretend to
influence anyone's judgment.
Nasir's poetry is extremely monotonous, and, compared with the poems of many of his
contemporaries, sounds just as crude and rustic as his philosophical works. Monotony
depends on all these poems being qasida, which are subject strict rules in composition. In
a sense it would be fair to call the qasidas, as a poetical form, a camouflaged and
poetically-colored application to the authorities, a business letter. Nasir handles them in
his crude rustic way, and, not possessing first class talent, he leaves the stitches to leap
into the eye. Almost all his poems are built on exactly the same plan. First the "prelude"
in the form of a picture of nature, such as spring, flowers, and so forth. Then follow
complaints on perfidy of fate, frailty of the world, the author's own sufferings. Later, also
quite abruptly, comes a large dose of moralizing, in the nature of those good advices
which are proverbially cheap, nasihat, using the Persian term. Finally, and just as
abruptly, comes the praise of the Imam, al-Mustansir bi'l-lah, and expression of devotion.
To the qasida-minded mediaeval reader such seemingly unconnected partition was most
probably of no consequence. He simply treated such a poem as several independent
works of art, admiring the "how," not "what," in it (as the latter was previously known).
From the modern point of view, however, such lack of unity constitutes a fundamental
defect, destroying the whole enchantment of the poem. It would be counterbalanced to
some extent by the quality of the verse, particularly those lines which "stick to memory."
I doubt, however, whether Nasir has any or at least many such verses, or whether his
poems are very musical and bear the fine finish of the poems of really great masters in
Persian literature.
Although the editors of the Diwan as printed in Tehran, 1929, has spent much admirable
enthusiasm, energy, acumen, and care in their difficult task, the edition cannot be
considered as final. Before this claim could be made, it would be necessary to examine
those manuscripts which are available in European libraries, and improve upon the
critical methods of selection. We must be grateful to them, however, remembering that
perfection is extremely difficult to attain in these matters.