Review Essay 

lbn Sina and Mysticism 

Sami S .  Hawi 

S .  Inati, translator. Ibn Sina and Mysticism: Remarks and Admonitions 
(Al-Isharat wa al-Tanbihat), Part Four. London and New York: Kegan 
Paul International, 1996, pp. 114. The book is an Fhglish translation and 
analysis of the fourth part of Ibn Sina’s Al-Isharat wa al-Tanbihat. 

This book “announces” a contribution to a specific aspect of Ibn Sina’s 
thought. Its main focus is the fourth part of his Al-Isharat wa al-Tanbihat 
(Remarks and Admonitions), which deals in a systematic manner with 
Islamic Sufism (mysticism), its different modifcations, and the kind of 
ternpod and transcendental experience that the soul undergoes in its 
journey back to its origin. Dr. S. Inati’s translation is the first into English 
of this part of the Isharat.’ It includes Ibn Sina’s dissertation in which he 
employs a form of descriptive psychology and scant aspects of his meta- 
physical system, as a focal point, to explain the drama of mystical life, 
its actualities, horizons, and pretensions. The Archimedean point of the 
Isharat is the experience of the Sufi (mystic) described in a crisp, vivid, 
and resonant Arabic. There is an excited, dynamic, and luminous sim- 
plicity in his style with sparse metaphors and practically no symbols or 
enigmas to hinder a direct comprehension of the themes discussed there- 
in. Dr. Inati’s position on the Isharat is in b o n y  with the popularly 
held beliep that it is entirely a symbolic composition (pp. 2-3) which 
stands for or represents his othewise clear naturalistic doctrine? I dis- 
agree and shall defend this position later. The best part of this work is 
directly communicated, employing his conceptual categories as a device 
to illuminate the process of mystical gnosis. He must have believed that 
an appeal to his rational determinations from his cosmology and theory 
of the soul would provide models or “ideated structures” that enhance a 
better understanding of mysticism by himself and by his competent d- 
er. The Shaykh’s contribution in Isharut lies in his methd of description 
and inteptation and not in major novel themes about mysticism; the 

Sami s. Hawi is an Associate PMessor in the Department 0fPhirOsophy at the University 
qf Wisconsin at Milwaukee. 



92 The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15: 1 

contents are familiar traditional views on the subject. When he was just 
a child, several older contemporaries produced tseatises and terminology 
that were by far more comprehensive and original than what he pens in 
the Zshurat? for instance, Kitab al-Lumu’ by Abu Nasr al-Sarraj (d. 
378/988), Qut al-Qulub by Abu Talib al-Makki (d. 386/996), and 
al-Risala al-Quruishiyyu (Epistle to the Sufis) by Abu Qasim al-Quraishi 
(d. 462/1072), to mention just a few. Of course, dong with the preced- 
ing must go the comprehensive and technical work of Al-Junaid 
Al-Baghdadi (d. 350/910), who brought mysticism under Islamic law, 
improved its terminology, and fashioned it into a practical and philo- 
sophic doctrine. Again, it was Ibn Sina’s exposition of Sufism (mysti- 
cism) in terms of his linguistic precision and philosophic modalities that 
give aesthetic and intuitive lure to this part of Isharut. 

Zbn Sim and Mysticism presents the sensitive reader with the follow- 
ing structures: 

a. 

b. 

C. 

A translation of Ibn Sina’s fourth part of ul-Zshurut wu ul-Tunbihut 
(Remarks and Admonitions) titled ul-Tusuwuf (Sufism). The author 
depended on an Arabic edition by the capable and erudite Islamic phi- 
losophy scholar Sulayman Dunya, published by Dar al-Ma’arif 
(Cairo, 1958). and checked this edition against that of Jack Forget, 
published by E.J. Brill (Leiden, 1892). Also, the translation contains 
pertinent footnotes for explaining and facilitating the comprehension 
of the text, along with new titles for each chapter designating its com- 
pass and intentions. The whole of part 4 of the Zshurut consists of sev- 
enty-eight short and condensed chapters. 
An introduction in which the author describes the strategy and ratio- 
nale for executing the project and the complexities involved in trans- 
lating a text such as ul-Zshurut. 
A long commentary5 that involves careful textual analysis tailored to 
the three main structures of this part of the Zshurut, namely, the nature 
of happiness, the stations of the knower, and the distinguishing signs 
of knowledge. The link between the preceding topics is the relentless 
effort by the seeker (murid) to achieve mystical gnosis, and Ibn Sina’s 
description of the multiplicity of subjective experiences, kinds of 
pleasures, and conditions that are conducive to or hinder conjunction 
(irtisul) with transempirical perfection. The seeker’s conscious aspira- 
tions, the pitfalls he encounters, and the progressive triumph in his 
journey are faithfully and patiently described by Dr. Inati. These aspi- 
rations are both god-centered and self-centered; from an epistemo- 
logical stance, her commentary focuses on the process of Man’s expe- 
riencing in relation to the experienced that is the Truth. Man’s nobil- 
ity and his lot of attaining the heights of union with God are due to his 
~ tu ra l  ability of contemplation through the power of the rational 
soul. 



Hawi: Ibn Sina and Mysticism 

I shall now consider the preceding points: 

93 

The Translation 

The translation is good. One cannot find any problematic sentences or 
phrases that contain distinct errors even if one were to search for them. 
The effort at understanding the Arabic and at intuiting the meanings of 
the Arabic original announces a mind fully grounded in the nuances of 
the language, its syntax, and semantics. Translating a work like al- 
Isharat demands not only a good knowledge of the language but also a 
considerable familiarity with the author’s other works. The translator, as 
it were, must “dwell” in the horizons and larger actualities of the author’s 
philosophic schemes in order to comprehend the givenness and import of 
the text. In this sense, every translation is ultimately an act of interpreta- 
tion, a recreation of the original. Inati here is “with it” safe and sound. A 
literal translation would have proven anemic and fatal. For instance, at 
difficult points in the text, she provides in the footnotes several terms in 
English that may correspond to the Arabic and gives reasons for her 
choice. Also, to reveal a passage’s complete meaning, she might add a 
word or two to the original. For example, in using the term “idrak,” 
which is of cardinal importance in the Isharat, Ibn Sina says: inna 
al-lathata hiya idrakun wa naylun liwusuli ma huwa ‘innda al-mudriki 
kamalun wa khair. Inati’s English version is: “pleasure is the apprehen- 
sion of, andfull arrival at, that which according to the apprehender is a 
perfection” (p. 7 1). Here she correctly states that idrak has several mean- 
ings, such as “grasping,” “realization,” “attainment,” “perception,” and 
“apprehension.” But since Ibn Sina employs the term to denote both sen- 
sible and intellectual awareness, the translator decided that “apprehen- 
sion” is the proper term to use. Inati is on target here. However, the orig- 
inal does not convey the meaning “full”; instead, it contains the term 
nayl, which means “to obtain.” The term nayl was completely eliminat- 
ed in the translation and was replaced by “full,” in which the meaning of 
“to obtain” was absorbed in the context. This is feasible. The translator 
acknowledges that she has introduced into the English some terms not 
found in the original, since “to convey in an English sentence the mean- 
ing of an Arabic sentence, one may have to include in the former words 
for whichthere is no parallel in the latter” (p. 5) .  This is, in general, the 
procedure she adopts in most of the translation. It unfurls rather than 
weakens the original. For a successful translation is not usually atomistic 
but contextual. Classical Arabic is not fully accessible even to educated 
Arabs. However, it differs from modem Arabic not in structure but in 
syntax, style, and punctuation. Some of the terms, though not many, have 
dropped out of common usage. Thus, a philosophic reading by an Arab 



94 ’ The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15: 1 

or a western scholar can be a demanding task It is unnecessary to give 
further examples of the translator‘s method. A more thorough examina- 
tion of the translation may pemapS yield minor errors in the nuances of 
terms, but the translation is generally sound. 

One would wish to be as appreciative of the Commentary, for its 
intended significations reveal that it is fraught with both methadological 
and philosophic difficulties. This will become clear in due course. 

The Nature of Happiness 
Part of the Commentary, “The Nature of Happiness,” the author dis- 

cusses Ibn Sina’s view of pleasure (ul-lathat) and its different means- 
the senses, the imagination, and the intellect. The result is that pleasure 
is construed to be of three kinds: the sensible, the internal, and the intel- 
lectual. In terms of quality and rank, the sensible pleasure is considered 
to be lowest, the intellectual highest, and the intemal intermediate 
between the two. However, only the intellectual pleasure is a quality 
peculiar to man, emanating from his nobility and special prerogative of 
sharing it with separate intelligences. ‘The highest pleasure is a state 
resulting from goodness” (p. 8), and “pleasure is defined as the a m -  
hension and acquisition of that which, from the point of view of the 
apprehender, is a good or a perfection” (p. 10). Goodness, according to 
Ibn Sina, results from satisfying a desire, a craving, or a preference. Dr. 
Inati does not state whether Ibn Sina endorses the objectivist, subjec- 
tivist, or relational view of goodness. For instance, is a thing good 
because it is desired, or is it desired because it is good? Based on the 
Zshurut, lbn Sina held the objective view of value. This means that for a 
goodness situation to arise, there has to be a subject where desires or 
interests are kindled by an object that possesses inherent objective qual- 
ities that are intrinsically valuable or good. This is in harmony with his 
view of ultimate felicity when the ‘urif(knower) desires or prefers a valu- 
able object, the Active Intellect or God. Since pleasure is a process, its 
value is determined by the attracting power of the object sought. 
Consequently, any value situation must always be in a forward-reaching 
state (shuwq), a teleological movement which is never fulfilled until it 
reaches Him, the Source of all Perfection. 
The Commentary overlooks a belief by Ttm Sina contained in the 

Zshurut (p. 786, Inati p. 79) which is, at once, of psychological and philo- 
sophic sigNficance and which needs clarification. The Shaykh Seems to 
clearly endorse the view that pain or harm (uthu) and pleasure can exist 
simultaneously in a state of happiness. In appearam this sounds para- 
doxical, for pain is not pleasure and the reverse is true. How can one 
combine both without logical and psychological contradiction? Certainly 
the Shaykh does not believe that an ‘urif is a masochist who derives plea- 



Hawk Ibn Sina and Mysticism 95 

sure from pain. However, the implication in the Isharut is that yearning 
for gnostic joy (buhjut) may inflict harm or pain but that the expectation 
of what is to ultimately ensue renders the pain agreeable and pleasurable. 
This, in my view, is feasible, since pleasure and pain are not opposites 
but contraries-they can coexist in the same mental or physical state. 
Opposites necessarily imply utter negation while contraries entail simply 
difference. This is from a formal standpoint, but from a psychological 
perspective the coexistence of pleasure and pain is directly “self-pre- 
senting” in the sense that it is self-justifying (i.e., the pleasure that 
obtains from periods of exertion such as tennis, swimming, and hiking). 
Ibn Sina’s position here is close to Plato’s in the Phaedo where Socrates 
states that pleasure and pain are conjoined together such that when striv- 
ing for the one we are apt to experience the other. The coexistence of 
pleasure and pain is hardly a new find, but one must remember that the 
ultimate Sufi experience, according to Ibn Sina, is not necessarily devoid 
of pain or harm.6 

According to the author, Ibn Sina posits two conditions for the actual- 
ization of pleasure, namely, an object considered good by the subject and 
the ability to attain that good. Furthermore, “goodness” is intricately and 
necessarily interwoven with the natural perfection of a being, toward 
which that being gravitates. This view is Aristotle’s, and as in other areas, 
such as ethics, metaphysics, and epistemology, the Shaykh seems to be 
inextricably Aristotelian. One is reminded of what Aristotle says in the 
Ethics, namely, that pleasure is a perfection or a crown of an activity and 
the reward bestowed by nature for the perfect and proper functioning of 
a being.7 Lnati also contends that Ibn Sina denies that evil possesses onto- 
logical status, considering it to be a negative concept or the privation of 
goodness. In this sense God is not responsible for its creation because 
whatever He has created is good in relation to the rest of the universe. 
The Shaykh defines evil by contrasting it with goodness. It is, in a spe- 
cial sense, a form of defect in the proper functioning of a being, where- 
as pleasure is a form of perfection. One can infer from Inati’s exposition 
that pleasure for Ibn Sina is an activity that is experienced and not sim- 
ply known (p. 13). The same applies to pain. Ultimately, the source of 
the highest pleasure (and consequently happiness), is the rational soul 
whose distinctive function is the contemplation of the intelligibles 
divested of corporeality, inherently perfect and forever eternal. For only 
the rational soul, through the intellect, can grasp the essence of a thing; 
and since essences are nonpolluted with matter, the pleasure that follows 
from their apprehension is higher and more intense. But, according to the 
Commentary, Ibn Sina does not believe in perfect happiness in this life 
except in certain moments of short duration extinguished by the various 
degrees of the soul’s bondage by the body. Eternal happiness is of the 
Afterlife, and even then not every soul can achieve that state; only those 



% The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15: 1 

who are able to purify themselves from corporeal contamination can 
achieve it. Nevertheless, the author correctly states that Ibn Sina did not 
believe in reincamation or in the dissolution of certain souls after death. 
All souls survive death in varying degrees of happiness or misery. Also, 
he denies the prior existence of souls in the world of intelligibles (pp. 16, 
18-19). It is in these views (along with others in his psychology), that Ibn 
Sina’s originality lies. Such views are well-presented and logically 
argued in Najut and Al-Shifa‘. Still, though a great conceptualist and intu- 
itive visionary, and despite “clever” additions and changes, he does not 
seem in his metaphysics or physics to have gone beyond the Aristotelian 
and especially, the Farabian conceptions. One subtle difference between 
him and Al-Farabi is in epistemology. Whereas Al-Farabi considers the 
act of intellection to be the extraction of universals from the particulars 
of sense, universals for Ibn Sina emanate from the Tenth Intellect or 
Active Reason. Apart from his contribution to the natural sciences in 
general, one has to look for the Shaykh’s originality in his psychology, 
his phenomenological understanding of the self, and his excellent differ- 
entiation between essence and existence. On these issues, he was a pio- 
neer. It is gratifying that such Islamic scholars as Michael Marmura, 
Parviz Morowedge, Lenn Goodman, and Sami Hawi have actively dealt 
with these significant issues in a timely fashion. More of this quality 
labor is sorely needed for a modem illumination (in a multiplicity of 
invigorating contextual perspectives) of the legacy of great Islamic 
philosophers.8 

Inati states that according to Ibn Sina, both moral and theoretical per- 
fections are guarantees in their own way for achieving infinite happiness 
in the Afterlife. When the intellect in its transcendental journey finally 
grasps the pure intelligences in the divine world, the soul merges with 
this world and experiences perpetual joy. 

Inati’s competence in treading through the winding morass of Ibn 
Sina’s multileveled thought is unquestionable. She resorts to other works 
by him such as Risala Adhawiyya and a l - M a w  wa al-Ma‘ad for veri- 
fication, assurance, and refinement (pp. 17-26). However, in all of that, 
she does not explain why it is critical to read Ibn Sina on these issues and 
what his contribution is in relation to his predecessors. 

Two serious questions arise from the preceding: (a) Does Ibn Sina 
equate pleasure with happiness, like the Epicureans, Bentham and Mill? 
and (b) Is the ultimate goal of man (soul), according to Ibn Sina, the 
achievement of happiness? My distinct impression is that Inati responds 
to these questions in the affirmative. I am, however, impelled to differ 
with her on both points, especially (b), which must be of more concem 
to us because it involves our understanding of Ibn Sina’s teleology of 
human lie. Concerning (a), Ibn Sina does not equate pleasure with hap- 
piness even though a life devoid of pleasure can hardly be called happy. 



Hawi: Ibn Sina and Mysticism 9.7 

The Arabic word sa‘adah (happiness) is a state which seeps into all 
dimensions of man’s being and is not short-lived but is of long duration, 
whereas pleasure is temporary, transient, and. often localized. From his 
description of sensible, internal, and intellectual pleasure, the Shaykh 
seems to be referring to a particular, highly temporary agreeable feeling 
of short duration which may not be pervasive. For the possibility of being 
unhappy and still experiencing pleasure, the pleasures of eating or love 
making are obvious examples. Unhappiness and pleasure can coexist in 
the same person (soul) at the same time, whereas happiness and unhap- 
piness cannot, since the one negates the other. But if happiness is equat- 
ed with pleasure as Inati indicates (p. 17), it can exist simultaneously 
with unhappiness, which is absurd (khim. Therefore, on formal grounds, 
Ibn Sina could not have equated the two, but only that the attainment of 
the latter necessarily includes or generates the former. When Ibn Sina 
says: khalasu ila ‘alim alqudsi wa al-sa‘adah . . . wa hasalat lahum 
al-laththat al-‘ulya “they have attained the world of holiness and happi- 
ness . . . and have gained the loftiest  pleas^'^ (Zsharat, p. 774). This 
means that the world of sa‘adah is not only the world of pleasure but also 
the world of intrinsic reality and of self-realization. Thus, Ibn Sina does 
not believe that the telos of an ‘arif (gnostic) is pleasure but rather 
al-Haqq (Truth). Pleasure is conducive to happiness, but the latter is irre- 
ducible to the former. 

The question in (b) is necessarily linked to the answer in (a). Inati 
states: “The ultimate objective of a human being is happiness . . .” 
(p. 26). This is both logically and factually wrong. Facts from the Zsharat 
do not support her contention. Logically, as I have concluded earlier, Ibn 
Sina must have endorsed the objective theory of goodness. What accrues 
between the ‘arifand the world of intelligences is a form of intellectual 
pleasure due to the qualities of the Divine that are ontologically and 
intrinsically valuable or good. The value situation arising must be direct- 
ed toward intrinsic goodness and not as a means to happiness. The wit- 
nessing of al-Haqq is logically antecedent or prior to the outcome. 
Happiness is posterior to gnostic intimacy. In other words, the attain- 
ment of happiness for the ‘arifmust not be the intention but only its effect 
or byproduct. This conclusion is supported by the text of Zsharat, name- 
ly, al-‘arifyurid al-haqq al-awwal la li shay‘in ghayrahu . . . la li ragh- 
batin aw rahba “the knower seeks the First Truth not for anything other 
than Itself. . . not because of desire or fear” (Zsharat, p. 8 10  Inati, p. 83). 
Ibn Sina warns that those who seek the truth for the sake of achieving 
happiness or any other gain are commercially minded (Zsharat, p. 801; 
Inati, p. 82). Therefore, contrary to what Inati states, Ibn Sina does not 
believe that happiness is the highest good of man. Only the contempla- 
tion of the truth (good) is the loftiest of Man’s activities. This conclusion 
points to the following three points: 



98 

1. 

2. 

3. 

The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15:l 

Its import is purely Aristotelian, for it was Aristotle who declared that 
the highest mode of life is man’s contemplation of the Prime Mover 
and this is prior in signifcanw to all other modes because it is self- 
sufficient. lo 
Rabi’a al-‘Udawiyya (d. 291/801), years before Ibn Sina, stated: “I do 
not love God out of greed for, or fear of, Him but for His own sake.” 
Like other Sufis before her, she rejected commercialism with God. 
On this issue, Ibn Sina is disappointingly unoriginal, and, as stated 
earlier, any contribution by him, lies in his ability to understand 
Sufism and cast it in terms of his naturalistic metaphysical system. 

The Stations of the Knower 
Part B of the Commentary deals with the stations of the knower. Inati 

claims that this section of the Isharat, the Ninth Class, “which focuses 
on the experience of the Sufi” (p. 4) “is the most original part” (p. 30), 
but no justification is offered in defense of this position, and no mention 
of the sense in which it is the “most” original. In fact, S. Hawi in his 
Islamic Naturalism andMysticism argued, with evidence from Ibn Sina’s 
works and others, against the alleged originality and the “enigmatic” 
symbolism of this part of Isharat. Also, the Shaykh’s mcitals or alle- 
gories were shown not to be his own creation. Arabic folkloric tales and 
Hellenic elements were the s0urce.l Furthermore, the analysis and inter- 
pretation of the contents of the Ninth Class were done in a comprehen- 
sive manner years before Inati by Corbin, Hawi, and Heath.12 No men- 
tion of these works is made in her text or bibliography. 

In relation to the stations of the knower, the author presents Ibn Sina’s 
views on the multiplicity of metamorphoses which the soul undergoes in 
its attempts at reaching mystical intimacy. Ibn Sina relates that the know- 
er passes through different stations and ranks while enjoying glimpses of 
the immortal holy world. Here he mentions, with no elaboration whatso- 
ever, the story of Salaman and Absal as an example of the individual 
gnostic and his elevation in mystical knowledge. (Only in the fmtnotes 
one finds Tusi’s commentary on the story.) At this stage Inati presents 
what she believes are her interpretations while at once using and ignor- 
ing other works on the subject.13 

done, namely, the terms al-zahhid (ascetic), al-‘abid (worshipper), and 
al- ‘arif (knower). Then he mentions the stages which the gnostic must 
go through in order to achieve his goal. However, the seeker must pre- 
pare himself for these stages for which he has to possess the will (irada) 
to effect contact (ittisal) with the holy world and must undergo training 
(al-riyu&) while his mind is intending the Divine. According to the 
author, the stages are as follows: 1) moments (awkat), 2) deep penetra- 

Inthispaaofzsh<lrat,Ihosina~finesw~thesuss~himhd 



Hawi: Ibn Sina and Mysticism 99 

tion into viewing the Truth, 3) breaking the cognitive barriers between 
the knower and the Truth, 4) increase in conjunction, 5) delving further 
into knowledge, 6) attaining knowledge at will, 7) attaining conjunction 
with the Truth, 8) attaining conjunction without exercise, and 9) com- 
plete consumption in the Truth (pp. 36-38). When the seeker arrives at 
the ninth stage, he beams friendliness and generosity and is immune to 
harm by others. The author correctly states that the idea of this immuni- 
ty is derived from Plat0 but does not provide a reference. This is actual- 
ly found in the Crito and Mem. 

The author claims that the whole composition of the Zsharut “is a sym- 
bolic philosophical work and must be treated as such” (p. 3). She also 
states that “the lengthy commentaries on this text, however, have not 
made its enigmatic nature accessible enough even to the philosophers” 
@. 3).14 This view is not in harmony with what the Isharut, in a neutral 
sense, announces to the reader. If one suspends the views of such schol- 
ars as Corbii, Heath and Mehren that are similar to Inati’s, then the book 
is presented in a “pure form” that contradicts their assertions. The 
expression is straightforward, though rarely economical; it is clear and 
contains exposition, form, and method typical of classical philosophical 
writings. A reader familiar with the literature and the sufi doctrines 
requires no effort to comprehend what the Shaykh is saying even when 
he is attempting to describe the heights of intimacy with God. Apart from 
employing only four sentences to refer to the story of Salaman and Absal 
in the Zsharut (pp. 791-93; Inati, p. 82), the book contains no symbols to 
interpret or resolve. Compared to Ibn al-Farid‘s (d. 625/1230) poetic and 
symbolic language, for example, the Isharut is transparent and clear. 

In that connection, Inati’s mistake along with the above-mentioned 
scholars is the following: Since Ibn Sina was justifiably considered by 
Tusi and others to be writing symbolically in his recitals of the uZ-Tqr 
(the Bird) and Huyy Zbn Yuqzan, which he does not include in the 
Isharut, Inati erroneously imposes the symbolism on the whole fourth 
part of the Isharut. Consequently, she and those who share her view@ 
commit the fallacy of irrelevance. Also, by ascribing a minor quality of 
the book, namely, the symbolic nature of Salaman and Absal, to the book 
as a whole, she commits the fallacy of generalizing from insufficient evi- 
dence. The reason for giving this issue serious consideration here is that 
this particular misunderstanding of the Isharut is pervasive in the litera- 
ture. “Symbolism and poetry were perhaps games for Ibn Sina, lacking 
the authenticity and honest resolve of his Shifa‘ (healing).”16 For 
instance, in his ‘uniyyu poem about the soul, “his poetic vision falls short 
of the imaginative impulse and vision of the average poet.”17 Other writ- 
ers, with their “scholarly rich” and “creative mind(@,” imbue his sym- 
bolic writings with interpretations that are vastly disproportionate to the 



100 The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15: 1 

original, in which a new Ibn Sina is invented and is only dimly ground- 
 ex^ in the original.’* 

Hermeneutic interpretation, though necessary for illuminating the 
implications of a thinker’s views, can be a dangerous business. One can 
be carried away by the large horizons and perspectives of one’s scholar- 
ly mind, resulting in a new consistent and harmonious synthesis sub- 
stantially alien to the intentionality immanent in the work being inter- 
preted. While Inati’s Commentary is innocent of this charge, her charac- 
terization of the Isharut as symbolic is erroneous. For a work to be sym- 
bolic, it should stand for the direct expression and the clear reproduction 
of the author’s ideas. The work would then be a representation and con- 
cealment of the writer‘s themes. In Ibn Sina’s case, the treatment of mys- 
ticism in Isharut contains no representation of his philosophic system as 
a whole. Instead, some concepts of this system l i e  the “theoretical intel- 
lect,” “practical intellect,” and “rational soul” are employed as points of 
reference for his study of mysticism. If symbolism implies hidden mean- 
ing, it does not follow that every hidden meaning is symbolic. True, in 
his occasional economical expression, Ibn Sina intended to bar the pub- 
lic from access to the genuine meaning of mysticism, but there are no 
symbols in the book symbolizing the entire drama of the phases and 
struggles to attain mystical gnosis. To economize in communication is 
not necessarily to symbolize, even though symbolic expression may be 
economical. By using such a method, Ibn Sina falls into the tradition of 
Aristotle and Al-Farabi. These thinkers believed that philosophy should 
be confiied to the capable few.19 However, if one of the intended func- 
tions of symbolism is to prevent the common ( ‘ u r n )  from access to the 
intimate nature of Truth and to instruct them to heed the precepts of 
Islamic law, then Ibn Sina’s symbolism in his recitals does not fulfill its 
purpose: A reader either does or does not comprehend the hidden mean- 
ing represented by the symbols. If he does not, the story will be enjoyed 
just as an aesthetic and luring product of sheer imagination; and if he 
does, symbolism would have failed in veiling the intended meaning. 
Consequently, direct expression would have been preferred because it 
can be precise in communicating the Shaykh’s ideas. Simply put, the 
recitals as an indirect philosophic expression can be fertile grounds for 
confusing and perhaps contradictory hermeneutic interpretation; and 
despite this fact, scholars will continue to engage endlessly in futile 
attempts to guess their meanings. If it is objected that symbolic tales 
allow readers to grasp from them each according to his abilities, then 
what would be the common criterion/criteria upon which their compre- 
hension is based? In the absence of clear pointers or criteria, readers may 
infer or decipher conflicting themes that are not in harmony either with 
Islamic law or with Ibn Sina’s intentions. Also, if it is said that symbol- 
ic communication among philosophers is necessary in times of political 



Hawi: Ibn Sina and Mysticism 101 

and religious stress, then one has to resign oneself to the fact that in such 
a communication, philosophic precision is unavoidably sacrificed. For it 
is impossible to discem, with certainty, exactly what lurked in Ibn Sina’s 
mind; what intricate processes, possibilities, and motives at that fine 
point of his creative act were responsible for one form of expression or 
another. Here we are faced with the “b2e noire,” the renowned episte- 
mological problem of intersubjectivity or egocentric predicament. 
However, dismissing the philosophic or religious effectiveness of Ibn 
Sina’s symbolic tales does not diminish the impressive and enriching 
function of symbolism in poetry and literature in general but not neces- 
sarily in philosophic expression. 

The Distinguishing Signs of Knowledge 
Part c of the Commentary, “the distinguishing signs of knowledge,” 

deals with the manifest qualities and signs of the gnostic from the out- 
side. For instance, his patient endurance of not eating for an extended 
period, his power for action in certain areas that cannot be emulated, and 
his ability to reach the hidden domains. In general, these actions are due 
to the capacity of the intellect to control the vegetative powers in the 
body, the excitement and flickering joy due to ittisal, and the disposition 
of the sensus comunis to receive the knowledge of particulars from the 
intelligible world (pp. 4249). This is followed by a familiar discussion 
of the role of the faculties of the soul in the actualization of knowledge, 
the relationship of the sensus comunis to the imagination, and how the 
forms of objects are reflected in both. This is actually a Farabian and 
Aristotelian theme to which the Shaykh contributed little: “the rational 
soul uses the imagination as an instrument on the occasion of the soul‘s 
conjunction with the divine realm” (p. 53). This sounds like Al-Farabi! 
In his description of the role of the imagination in relation to prophetic 
and visionary knowledge, the Second .Master anticipated modem views 
by such thinkers as Coleridge, I.A. fichards, and George Santayana. Ibn 
Sina further presents the different conditions under which the rational 
soul can penetrate the hidden realm and draws knowledge from it. 
Hidden or invisible things according to him cannot only be cogitated but 
also “experienced.” Such experience cannot be proven or spoken about 
since OG sensible or phenomenal language is limited in scope and focus. 
It is impossible for our sensible form of discourse to describe the 
transphenomenal realities. This is reinforced by a correct and substan- 
tially pertinent methodological remark typical of the Shaykh in most of 
his writings, especially the De Anima: “Your strong rejection of that 
whose clarity is not yet made evident to you is no less a mistake than 
your strong belief in that whose evidence does not lie in your hands. 
Rather you must hold on to the line of suspending judgment” (Zshrut, 



102 The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15: 1 

p. 902; Inati, p. 107). This is admirable methodology from a man of his 
time. At the end of the Isharat, Ibn Sina informs us that he revealed the 
“cream of truth” about the sufi gnostics and besieges us not to divulge 
this truth except for those who are competent to receive it. However, 
these beliefs are not necessarily Ibn Sina’s, nor do they determine the 
pct ical  life he himself chose to lead. 

Again, here Inati’s perspicacity and ability to understand both the 
Arabic ahd the philosophical complexities involved in the Isharat is 
indubitably apparent. Her Commentary is clear and direct and shows 
scholarly competence from the point of view of precision and sensitivi- 
ty to the text. Her method of not engaging in excessive “scholarly mhe-  
ology” and in emphasizing textual analysis and interpretation is to be 
commended. However, the introduction, though faithful to the original, 
is “skeletal,” follows the text slavishly, and does not surpass it in clarity 
and content. On the whole, the analysis presented is self-contained and 
monadic. There is a little appeal to other works by Ibn Sina, which does 
not really facilitate the reader’s comprehension. A succinct and separate 
statement of the salient and distinct aspects of Ibn Sina’s metaphysical 
scheme and different faculties of the soul should have been included in 
the commentary as a “nexus” to which the reader could refer in under- 
standing what the Shaykh means in the Isharat. This monadic aspect of 
the commentary should have been fleshed out in terms of coordiiates 
and broader issues such as Ibn Sina’s contributions to sufism and the 
influence of Al-Farabi and even comparison with recent views on mys- 
ticism. In other words, an interactive introduction would have expanded 
the horizons of Ibn Sina‘s thought and would have philosophically resus- 
citated his dormant significance. “For to be properly assessed and to dis- 
cern their merits and relevance Islamic philosophers must be actively 
treated from a philosophic standpoint and not from [a] purely” introduc- 
tory or scholarly point of view.m However, this demand is perhaps par- 
tially unjustifiable in this context, since Inati’s main purpose was to 
translate and explicate the text. G.F. Hourani’s work Islamic Rationalism 
and P. Morowedge’s Essays in Islamic Philosophy, Theology and 

are examples of what this reviewer has in mind. 
Furthermore, the author’s references and bibliography, other than works 
by Ibn Sina, are skimpy and inadequate in relation to a familiar subject 
frequently discussed by both western and Muslim scholars. The author 
cites only nine sources and discounts, knowingly or unknowingly, works 
that have direct bearing on the multiplicity of issues contained therein. 
Consequently, the Commentary owes a “hidden debt” to other authors. 
More specially, the controversial issue of “illuminative philosophy,” and 
the influence of Ibn Sina on Ibn Tufayl (pp. 62-65), have been satisfac- 
torily dealt with before. Her short and passing remarks subjecting Ibn 
Tufayl’s mysticism to the “arresting shadow of Ibn Sina,”22 are unwar- 



Hawi: Ibn Sina and Mysticism 103 

ranted. The greater influence on Ibn Tufayl stems predominantly from 
Al-Ghazzali’s views of Sufism, along with those of Al-Junaid’s (d. 
300/910), Al-Hallaj’s (d. 312/p22), Al-Bistami’s (d. 265/875), and defi- 
nitely, but to a lesser extent, from Al-Farabi’s views. The author states 
that “Hayy Ibn Yaqzan, its ideas are basically those of al-Zsharut” (p. 
65). This is a mistake pure and simple.= 

Again, the author states, with emphasis, that Ibn Sina was a mystic of 
a special kind “Ibn Sina’s mysticism is speculative, theoretical or philo- 
sophical” (p. 62), and “according to his conception of mysticism, he 
must have been a mystic” (p. 63). One cannot agree with the author‘s 
logic in the last quotation. One’s conception of mysticism does not nec- 
essarily make one a mystic. There are several writers who expressed 
varying conceptions and special views about mysticism, but such views 
do not necessarily make them mystics. Inati defends, in substance, her 
position by stating: “Since Ibn Sina wrote a number of treatises on the 
subject. . . one would have to assume that he knew what a mystical expe- 
rience is” (p. 63). Here, “knowing” and “experiencing” are two different 
terms with different import. “Knowing” implies a cognitive subject, 
whereas “experiencing” implies an existentially involved self, which 
cannot be predicated of Ibn Sina. The cognitive subject is sterile while 
the experiencing subject is dynamic. Furthermore, “philosophical mysti- 
cism” is a homeless phrase and has been classically used in a very broad 
sense by different writers. Such broad usage renders the term practically 
meaningless; it covers a multiplicity of philosophically different “reflec- 
tive individuals” with different ultimate concerns and principles, it is a 
vacuous piece of verbiage, a blanket term covering a strange conglom- 
eration of “family resemblances” between different doctrines. It excludes 
one of the most distinctive qualities of a mystical experience, namely, the 
existential transformation of the whole personality after encountering the 
Divine. Ibn Sina did not manifest an experience of such a transformation. 
He indulged in the intoxicating pleasures of immediacy and experienced 
the “thorns of the flesh.” To dub the Shaykh a mystic of any strain is a 
misnomer. 

I am dwelling on this issue of mystic characterization at some length 
because it is unjustifiable and misleading and has polluted philosophical 
l i t e m .  One can perhaps speak of postrational intuition, an experience 
shared by philosophically and metaphysically elevated minds who art 
not genuinely mystics. Technically, the term “mystic” did not even exist 
in Greek philosophical literature. It emerged when the Greek rationalis- 
tic spirit came in contact with the revealed message of Islam and 
Christianity. However, there were elements of ritualistic asceticism 
immanent in man’s experiences before these religions. Here I am not 
questioning the retrospective employment of the term or phrase posteri- 
or to some philosophic tendencies. Such an application can be profitable 



104 The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15:l 

when employed in a relevant fashion. But to predicate “intellectual mys- 
ticism” of Ibn Sina or other thinkers is confusing and unproductive. 

It does not make sense to consider Plato, Aristotle, Ibn Sina, Hegel, 
Descartes, Spinoza, and Kierkegaard (the arch enemy of mysticism) as 
philosophical mystics. These were philosophers who with their rational 
passion encountered the limits of their intellect without surrendering. 
Their stubborn rationality compensated for its encounter with the divine 
or “unknown” by intuitive illumination, post-rational, philosophically 
relieving but cognitively questionable. 

The prejudice for the ill-fated use of “philosophical mysticism” (hard- 
ly employed in the West) may have sprouted in Islamic philosophy at the 
hands of Al-Mahasibi (d. 228/838). He combined his mysticism with 
some philosophical elements of Greek thought. Also, Thu an-Nun 
Al-Misri (d. 251/861) fused his behavioral (ritualistic) mysticism with 
the conceptual rational elements of Neoplatonism. Subsequently schol- 
ars, mistakenly perhaps, confiied the usage of the term to one element, 
namely, the intellectual and philosophical. Again, “philosophical mysti- 
cism” eliminates one essential dimension of mysticism which is the exis- 
tential impact, overpowering, deeply penetrating, that redirects the pow- 
ers of the soul in behavior. There seems to be a conditional relationship 
between genuine irrisal and the corresponding modification of one’s life. 
This means that mystical (sufi) experience, by and large, determines 
character that is essentially a transformed will. In a reportive (lexical) 
sense no sufi experience is achieved without a corresponding change in 
will and consequently in action. Neither this reviewer nor Ibn Tufayl can 
genuinely consider Ibn Sina a mystic. The way Ibn Tufayl puts it, Ibn 
Sina is one of the people of theoretical knowledge (ah1 al-nazar), and not 
one of those of immediate knowledge (dhawq). Ibn Sina, according to 
Ibn Tufayl, “in his reference to and description of mystical states, was 
not an ‘arif (gnostic). His superior intellect permitted him to depict and 
discuss mysticism as an “imitator,” not as one who experienced it or 
belonged to the order.”% 

It is futile for scholars to assent to a proposition or predicate about the 
“inner man” and its subjective experience when no external behavior is 
available as an indication of the nature of his subjectivity. This again 
confronts us with the problem of intersubjectivity. In his Zsharur, Ibn 
Sina was not doing more than an empathetic phenomenological descrip- 
tion of the nature of the Sufi experience. In order to be successful, as it 
is with writers of similar vein, he had to employ “imaginative variation” 
in order to identify from within with the sufi states, ranks, and doctrines. 
Through empathy with and sympathetic penetration of the field of con- 
sciousness of the sufi masters, and the description of both their internal 
and external behavior, he was able to theoretically grasp the intellectual 
and emotional states which the self of the sufi undergoes. 



Hawi: Ibn Sina and Mysticism 105 

The book, being about lbn Sina’s views on mysticism, necessitated the 
preceding remarks in the hope that the controversial issue of his mysti- 
cism will finally be put to rest. The book is a valuable contribution to the 
English translation of Ibn Sina’s works and can be used by scholars of 
Islamic thought. The author should be encouraged to continue to trans- 
late other works. However, it is advisable that she lists all her sources. 

Notes: 
1. I shall employ Isharat in my subsequent discussion to refer to the fourth part of 

Ibn Sina’s al-lsharat wa al-Tanbihat. 
2. Henry Corbin is one example of an author who believed that this part of Isharat 

is symbolic. See Henry Corbin, Avicenna and the Visionary Recitals, translated by 
W.R. Trusk (London. 1960). For a rejection of Corbin’s position, see S.  Hawi, Islamic 
Naturalism and Mysticism (Leiden, 1974), 266n. and 268-69. See also 25-31. 

3. “Naturalism” means science-oriented. 
4. He has of course written other works on the subject. 
5. Hereafter, I shall refer to Inati’s analysis of Ibn Sina’s text as Commentary. 
6. I am employing “harm and pain” interchangeably, while further analysis may 

point out differences. 
7. W.D. Ross, Aristotle (Oxford, 1967), 228. 
8. For example, see Michael Marmm, “Avicenna’s Flying Man in Context,” The 

Monist 69, no. 3 (1986): 383-95; P. Morowedge, Essays in Islamic Philosophy, 
Theology and Mysticism (New York, 1995). Lenn Goodman, Ibn Tufql’s Hayy Ibn 
Yuqzan (Los Angeles, 1983). Examples of what is needed here are Goodman’s and 
Hawi’s works on Ibn Tufayl-basically comparative studies with western philosophy 
from an interdisciplinary point of view that involve active philosophical analysis qua 
philosophy. 

9. Translation is mine. 
10. Richard McKean, Aristotle (New York, 1947): 535-537. 
11. Hawi, Islamic Naturalism and Mysticism, 259-269. 
12. Ibid. See Corbin, Avicenna and the Visionary Recitals. and P. Heath, Allegory and 

Philosophy in A v i c e m  (Philadelphia, 1992). Heath’s book is problematic. In his inter- 
pretations of Ibn Sina’s recitals (pp. 93-%), he practically reiterates the views of previ- 
ous writers on the subject, and his chapters dealing with Ibn Sina’s philosophy are tradi- 
tional views familiar to scholars in the western and Muslim traditions. Instead of inde- 
pendent interpretation of the recitals and detailed motives for their employnent by Ibn 
Sina, he focuses on insignificant hair-splitting differences between what he claims are his 
views and those of Corbin, Goichon, and Gutas. See Heath, pp. 153-154. Heath seems 
to have imposed from outside a scheme of what he calls logos and muthos to interpret 
Ibn Sina. Such a scheme is selective and inhibits a neutral multifarious interpretation of 
Ibn Sina. The exotic terms of logos and murhos are in plain English, not more than Ibn 
Sina’s naturalistic and mystical themes. For the possible motives for the use of allegories 
or narratives, see S. Hawi’s article “Ibn Tufayl, His Motives for the Use of Narrative 
Form and His Method of Concealment in Hayy Bin Yaqzan,” The Muslim WorM 

13. See Hawi, Islamic Naturalism, 266-267 and 262; Inati, 32-33. Also see Hawi, 
Islamic Naturalism, 11-12n.. 60; I ~ t i ,  62; Heath, Allegory and Philosophy in Avicenna, 
7. 

14. Emphasis is mine. 
15. Such as Morowedge, Essays in Islamic Philosophy, Theology and 

16. Hawi, Islamic Naturalism, 69. 
17. Ibid. 
18. See Corbin, A v i c e m  and the Visionary Recitals, and Heath, Allegory and 

19. For a detailed explanation, see Hawi’s article in The Muslim World, 333. 

(Hartford, 1974): 322-337. 

Mysticism, 1%. 

Philosophy in Avicenna. 

, 20. Hawi, Islamic Naturalism, 4. 



106 The American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 15: 1 

21. G.F. Hourani. Islamic Rationalism, the Ethics of ‘AM al-Jabbar (1974); and 
Momwedge, Essays in Islamic Philosophy, Theology and Mysticism. These two books 
are an excellent example of employing madem philosophic themes in interpreting 
Islamic philosophers. 
22. Hawi, Islamic Naturalism, 58-59. 
23. b i d ,  57-59 and 80-83. 
24. Ibid, 56. For further discussion of Ibn Sina’s mysticism, see P. Momwedge, “The 

Logic of Emanationism and Sufism in the Philosophy of Ibn Sina,” in two parts. The 
Journal of American Oriental Society (1973): 467-476. Also see A.F. Mehren, Traite 
mystique d ‘abou ‘Ali Hassan b. ‘Aaba’nlloh b. Sina ou d ‘Avicenne (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 
1889-1899).