people by influencing the rulers in the direction of compassion and fair taxation and rule. Here both Mawl¥n¥ Jal¥l al-DÏn and his son and successor Sul~¥n Walad played an important role.
Part 1: The Religious Scholar
Jal¥l al-DÏn Mu^ammad ibn Mu^ammad was born in 604/1207, either in the town of Vakhsh (in today’s Tajikistan) or possibly in Balkh, Afghanistan. His background was learned, Persian-speaking, and Sunni. His father, Bah¥’ al-DÏn Walad, was a religious scholar and mystic whose Meditations (Ma¢¥rif), distinctive (and sometimes daring) personal meditations rich in imagery, clearly influenced his son. In about 619/1219, probably because of the threat of invasion by the Mongols, the family travelled west to Baghdad, then performed Hajj. Like many who had emigrated from the East, they then proceeded to Asia Minor, living in various towns for some years before finally settling in Konya. By this time Jal¥l al-DÏn and his wife Gawhar Kh¥t‰n, whom he had married at the age of eighteen, had two sons. In 628/1231, Bah¥’ al-DÏn died and was succeeded in his teaching post by Jal¥l al-DÏn, now an expert in the Islamic sciences.
The following year, Burh¥n al-DÏn Mu^aqqiq TirmidhÏ, a former disciple of Bah¥’ al-DÏn Walad, arrived in Konya to supervise Jal¥l’s further training. Under the guidance of Burh¥n, whose Persian discourses (Ma¢¥rif) are too little known, the young scholar travelled the spiritual path of Sufism, graduated from the hard school of asceticism (zuhd) and spiritual retreat (khalwa), and enhanced his learning and experience through two periods of study in Syria. While there he encountered some of the leading Sufis of the day and became familiar with Arabic poetry. This period ended with Burh¥n al-DÏn’s death in 638/1240. Jal¥l al-DÏn was by now a respected scholar and preacher in Konya, in Sufism as well as in ¤anafÏ jurisprudence and other religious sciences. In time he gained influence among the most important political figures of the day. Some came to visit and learn from him, and with others he corresponded.
The Sun of Truth
The event that revolutionized R‰mÏ’s life has since indirectly influenced the lives of multitudes. In 642/1244 a wandering dervish named Shams al-DÏn TabrÏzÏ arrived in Konya. In their first encounter, Shams showed Jal¥l al-DÏn that there were whole realms of knowledge and experience that had been closed to him. Each found that in the other’s company and guidance a door to new spiritual realization had opened. Intoxicated with this love, Jal¥l al-DÏn no longer cared what others thought. The radiance of Shams’s presence was, it seemed to him, barely separable from the radiance of God Himself. Had not the Prophet Jacob suffered inexpressible sorrow and became almost blind from weeping at the loss of his son Joseph, that peerless reflection of Divine Beauty? For over a year, Jal¥l al-DÏn and Shams were almost constantly together. Because of things that certain people have written, it needs to be spelled out that this was a Divinely willed, platonic friendship: two complementary spiritual types of exceptional stature, each learning from and devoted to the other. It is clear from the sources that Shams was the more jal¥lÏ (rigorous and majestic) of the two and Jal¥l al-DÏn the more jam¥lÏ (mild and serene).
The event that revolutionized R‰mÏ’s life has since indirectly influenced the lives of multitudes. In 642/1244 a wandering dervish named Shams al-DÏn TabrÏzÏ arrived in Konya. In their first encounter, Shams showed Jal¥l al-DÏn that there were whole realms of knowledge and experience that had been closed to him. Each found that in the other’s company and guidance a door to new spiritual realization had opened. Intoxicated with this love, Jal¥l al-DÏn no longer cared what others thought. The radiance of Shams’s presence was, it seemed to him, barely separable from the radiance of God Himself. Had not the Prophet Jacob suffered inexpressible sorrow and became almost blind from weeping at the loss of his son Joseph, that peerless reflection of Divine Beauty? For over a year, Jal¥l al-DÏn and Shams were almost constantly together. Because of things that certain people have written, it needs to be spelled out that this was a Divinely willed, platonic friendship: two complementary spiritual types of exceptional stature, each learning from and devoted to the other. It is clear from the sources that Shams was the more jal¥lÏ (rigorous and majestic) of the two and Jal¥l al-DÏn the more jam¥lÏ (mild and serene).
Many of those who venerated Jal¥l al-DÏn were at a loss to understand the transformation of their master into a man intoxicated with love of the Divine, who composed poetry while turning round and round. Then one day Shams suddenly vanished, fleeing the jealousy of his companion’s disciples. Jal¥l al-DÏn was distraught, as we learn from the sources (including poems) in which he pleads with his friend to return. His loyal son Sul~¥n Walad was sent to find him, and eventually brought him back from Damascus to Konya. Not long afterwards, however, Shams disappeared again – this time for good.
Who was this Shams al-DÏn TabrÏzÏ? Besides the testimony of R‰mÏ’s biographers, his collected sayings (Maq¥l¥t) have also survived. Shams was an educated man, a Sh¥fi‘Ï who had studied jurisprudence in depth. It was part of his way as a Sufi to conceal his true nature from others, shunning respectability and diplomatic behaviour. We learn from the Maq¥l¥t that the main purpose of Shams’s travels was to find a true Friend of God (WalÏ All¥h), or saint. In Maq¥la 685 he describes his first meeting with Jal¥l al-DÏn R‰mÏ, when Shams questioned him about the Persian Sufi B¥yazÏd Bas~¥mÏ and why he had not found it necessary to say to God, as the Blessed Prophet himself had said, ‘We have not known You as You deserve to be known.’ The Maq¥l¥t also reveal how greatly Shams admired Jal¥l al-DÏn as a scholar and spiritual figure who possessed qualities that he did not – but that Shams was also a teacher to him and so the relationship was not of the normal type between master and disciple.
Although the loss of his teacher grieved him, as a spiritual master Mawl¥n¥ knew well that everything that is worth loving is to be found to perfection in the Divine Beloved. But Shams al-DÏn had demanded of him everything he had, in order that he transcend the bounds of conventional piety in the quest for complete experiential vision and illumination. What he mourned so eloquently was the loss of that overwhelming inner sunlight, and the companion – a scruffy, boorish impostor in the eyes of many, but for him the Perfect Guide – who had completed his spiritual direction and continually inspired him.
Later Life
As time passed the impact of the trauma waned. Whatever Shams had essentially represented to him Jal¥l al-DÏn now found within himself and in close companions like ßal¥^ al-DÏn Zark‰b, a simple, pure-hearted goldsmith from the bazaar of Konya; and ¤us¥m al-DÏn ChalabÏ, a saintly individual who was a faithful and capable helper to his teacher and the chief inspiration of the latter’s masterpiece, the MathnawÏ. His equilibrium thus regained, R‰mÏ lived on for over twenty years, supervising the training of disciples and teaching through discourses, letters, and poetry. His death in 672/1273 was mourned not only by Muslims but also by Konya’s large Christian population. The direction of the brotherhood passed into the hands of ¤us¥m al-DÏn, and then to Jal¥l al-DÏn’s son Sul~¥n Walad. Founder of what would become the MawlawÏ, or Mevlevi, Sufi Order (>arÏqa), Walad was also an able administrator and an author; his works include discourses, a DÏw¥n, and some long poems including a valuable account of his father’s life.
Works
Discourses (FÏhi m¥ fÏh)
The best known prose work associated with R‰mÏ is the collection of discourses known by the Arabic title FÏhi m¥ fÏh (meaning ‘What’s in it is in it’, or possibly ‘Whatever there is, is in it’). The text as we have it today was compiled from records (or recollections) of the Master’s teachings with disciples and admirers who attended his gatherings. Most of the main themes explored in the MathnawÏ are also touched on in the Discourses. Sometimes, as in the MathnawÏ, he moves back and forth between one point and another related one, interweaving narrative and commentary. For readers who are less familiar or comfortable with poetry, perhaps because of the overwhelmingly prosaic education prevalent in these days of techno-domination, the Discourses may offer a more accessible introduction
