American Journal of Islam and Society Vol 40 No 3-4.indb 104 The Early Sufi Tradition in Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Abhar: Stories of Devotion, Mystical Experiences, and Sufi Texts F A T E H S A E I D I Abstract Research on the early Sufis of Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Abhar holds immense significance in comprehending the development of Sufism in the Jibāl region. This article provides an in-depth exploration of the initial stages of Sufism’s formation, focus- ing on the analysis of significant early Sufi texts. Specifically, the study investigates the treatises Karāmāt Sheikh abī ʻalī al-Qūmsānī, Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ, and Rawḍat al-murīdīn, authored by Ibn Zīrak al-Nahāwandī (d. 471/1078), Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī Fateh Saeidi received their PhD in Iranian Studies from the University of Göt- tingen, and is Lecturer in the Department of Sociology at Soran University. Saeidi, Fateh. 2023. “The Early Sufi Tradition in Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Abhar: Stories of Devotion, Mystical Experiences, and Sufi Texts” American Journal of Islam and Society 40, nos. 3-4: 104–135 • doi: 10.35632/ajis.v40i3-4.3210 Copyright © 2023 International Institute of Islamic Thought S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  105 (d. 428/1036), and Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī (d. 472/1079), respectively. Despite their profound significance, the role of these texts in shaping Sufism within the Islamic world has received limited attention in Sufi studies. Consequently, this study con- tributes valuable insights into the development of Iraqi-based Sufism in Hamadān and its neighboring centers, spanning from the third/ninth century to the fifth/eleventh century. Notably, some Sufis in this region were disciples of Abū ̒Alī al-Nahāwandī al-Qūmsānī (d. 387/997), playing a pivotal role in the institution- alization of Sufism through the establishment of khāneqāhs in the area. Keywords: Early Sufism, The Jibāl region, Abū ̒Alī al-Nahāwandī al-Qūmsānī, Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī, Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī Introduction Hamadān (or Hamadhān) was located at the crossroads of two signif- icant branches of the Silk Road, granting it a substantial geopolitical advantage and facilitating convenient access from Mesopotamia to the Iranian plateau.1 During the Islamic era, Hamadān held a crucial socio-cultural position within the Jibāl region and occupied a prominent political role as the capital of influential governments like the Buyid and Seljuk dynasties. The early development of Sufism in Hamadān and its neighboring centers, namely Nahāwand2 and Abhar,3 can primarily be attributed to the Sufis from Baghdad.4 Furthermore, it is noteworthy that al-Junayd al-Baghdādī (d. 298/910), a pivotal figure in the spiritual lineage of numerous Sufi orders, was of Nahāwandī descent.5 The majority of Jibāl cities, including Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Rayy, were strategically located along the Silk Road, a vital trade route serving as the crossroads between the central hub of the Abbasid Caliphate in Iraq and the Khūrāsān region. Consequently, these cities held significant socio-political importance. Sufis, in particular, actively engaged in social activities through their ribāṭs and khaneqāhs, which were prevalent in numerous Jibāl cities. The emergence of Sufism in the major Sufi centers 106  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 of Iraq, such as Baghdad and Basra, coincided with the advent of mystical movements in the Jibāl region from the late 3rd/9th century onwards. In the early stages of the formation of Sufism, this region also harbored mystics and ascetics who were not conventionally recognized as Sufis. Despite the evident significance of Sufism in the Jibāl region, the scholarly discourse has largely overlooked the pivotal role played by the Sufis from this area in the formation of Sufism and its subsequent trans- mission to Khurāsān. However, there is a substantial amount of evidence regarding Sufism in Jibāl and its Sufis, which has been documented in primary sources, particularly biographical hagiographies. In al-Bayāḍ wa al-sawwād, Abū ʻl-Ḥasan al-Sīrjānī (d. c. 470/1077) attempts to classify Sufis using a historical-geographical framework. In the thirty-ninth sec- tion of this book, titled bāb maʻrifat tārīkh al-mashāyikh (‘Understanding the history of Sufi masters’), he categorizes seventy-eight sheikhs/Sufis into eight groups. First, he introduces seven Sufi poles (al-āḥād min al-awtād), and subsequently designates seven geographical regions: (1) Ḥijāz, (2) Iraq, (3) Shām, (4) Egypt, (5) Fārs, (6) Khurāsān, and (7) Jibāl.6 In Kitāb al-lumaʻ fī ’l-taṣawwuf, al-Sarrāj (d. 378/988) enumerates the Sufis of Jibāl, who are primarily recognized for their association with the Sufis of Baghdad. One notable mention is Abū Bakr al-Iṣbahānī, Bakran al-Dīnawarī, ̒ Ῑsā al-Qaṣṣār al-Dīnawarī, and Bundār al-Dīnawarī, all esteemed companions of al-Shiblī (d. 334/946).7 Additionally, other Sufis, including Abū al-Qāsim ibn Marwān al-Nahawāndī and al-Muẓaf- far al-Qaramīsīnī, were connected to Abū Saʻīd al-Kharrāz (d. c. 286/899),8 whereas Mamshād al-Dīnawarī maintained a close relationship with al-Junayd (d. 298/910), al-Ruwaym (d. 303/915), and al-Nurī (d. c. 295/908).9 Evidently, it can be argued that during the era of al-Junayd, al-Nūrī, and al-Kharrāz, the Sufis of Baghdad served as instructors to numerous students hailing from various regions within the Abbasid empire. Subsequently, these students disseminated the distinct teachings and practices imparted by their respective Sufi mentors.10 The significant point to note is that Sufis, Ḥajj pilgrims and ḥadīth seekers from Khurāsān had to traverse the Jibāl region in order to reach Mecca and Baghdad. The local khāneqāhs (Sufi lodges) in the Jibāl region served as suitable resting places for these individuals, facilitating their S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  107 interactions with other Sufis. During their pursuit of Islamic sciences in renowned academic centers such as the Niẓāmiyya of Iṣfahān and Hamadān, it is likely that they would have resided in Jibāl for extended periods, possibly spanning several months. We now appreciate the unique attributes of the Jibāl region, including its proximity to the major governmental and cultural hubs of Baghdad and Basra in Iraq, its strate- gic location along the Silk Road, and its status as home to large cities and villages nestled at the foot of the Zagros Mountains. These distinctive features bestowed the region with significant potential for the develop- ment of intellectual centers. Early Indications of Sufism and its Associations with Iraqi Sufi Tradition In the contemporary historiography of Sufism, the historical trajectory of Sufism in the Jibāl region, despite its strong roots, has often been over- looked.11 However, it can be argued that Sufism in this area developed alongside the mystical practices of the Sufis in Baghdad, particularly in the cities of Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Abhar. Initially, during the formative period of Sufism in this region, the prevailing spiritual ethos primarily revolved around renunciant piety.12 Over time, the evolution of early Sufism in the Jibāl region can be attributed to several factors, most notably the institutionalization of Sufism through the establishment of Sufi communities within khān- eqāhs. These communities served as focal points for spiritual activities, providing a platform for Sufis to gather, engage in spiritual practices, and exchange knowledge. Moreover, the political support of Islamic gov- ernments played a crucial role in granting popular legitimacy to Sufism, enabling its growth and prominence within the region. One of the early Sufis from Hamadān is believed to be Aḥnaf al-Hamadānī. Jaʻfar al-Khuldī (d. 348/959), one of al-Junayd’s disciples, recounts a story about Aḥnaf, in which the importance of travel etiquette is emphasized.13 Another Sufi figure, Ziyād al-Kabīr al-Hamadānī, con- temporaneous with al-Junayd, remains relatively unknown. However, Kahmaṣ ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Hamadānī reports witnessing Ziyād al-Kabīr 108  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 praying in the mosque for rain. Remarkably, Kahmaṣ points out that before prayer concluded, there was such a torrential downpour so that it became impossible for him to return home.14 We have additional information about Kahmaṣ. Al-Kalābādhī (d. 380/990) classified him as one of the Sufis of Jibāl,15 and it is known that he lived during the same period as al-Junayd. Kahmas himself nar- rates an allegorical tale about his encounter with al-Junayd: “One night, while I was seated in my house in Hamadān, I heard a knock on the door. To my surprise, I discovered that Junayd had come to visit me. The following day, I searched for him throughout the city, but no one knew of his whereabouts. After inquiring about al-Junayd’s journey from a group of travelers from Baghdad, I realized that on the same night, he had visited me and promptly returned to Baghdad.”16 Abū Nuʻaym al-Iṣfahānī (d. 430/1038) dedicated a relatively com- prehensive entry to Kahmaṣ, referring to him as Kahmaṣ al-duʻā. He recounts a tale illustrating Kahmaṣ’s deep piety and reverence for God: “One day, I [Kahmaṣ] had a guest and had prepared fish for him. I then procured some soil from my neighbor’s wall, intending for my guest to cleanse his hands with it. However, I have spent the last forty years blaming myself and shedding tears over the sin of not obtaining my neighbor’s permission.”17 Additionally, Abū Nuʻaym mentions other anecdotes about Kahmaṣ that resemble those of another pious worshiper (ʻābid) from Basra named Abū al-Ḥasan al-Tamīmī (d. 149/766), whom al-Dhahabī (d.748/1344) refers to as Kahmaṣ too.18 Abū al-Qāsim ibn Marwān al-Nahāwandī al-Sufi, also known as Ibn Mardān, was a Sufi associated with the Sufi circle of Baghdad. He resided in Nahāwand and also spent some time in Baghdad, where he enjoyed the company of al-Kharrāz for fourteen years and met with al-Junayd. Al-Sarrāj mentioned that Ibn Mardān initially believed in samāʻ rituals (a Sufi ceremony performed as part of the meditation and prayer practice) but later lost faith in it.19 However, on one occasion, he happened to be present at a samāʻ gathering and was deeply moved by a poem. In a state of ecstasy, he exclaimed, “I am thirsty, and no one offers me water.”20 Among the other Sufis from Hamadān who resided outside the Jibāl region was Abū al-Ḥasan ibn Jahḍam al-Hamadānī. Ibn Jahdam was a S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  109 disciple of al-Kawkabī (d. 347/958) and Jaʻfar Khuldī, a highly respected figure of his time who lived in Mecca. Anṣārī stated that he knew someone who had traveled to Mecca solely to visit Abū al-Ḥasan ibn Jahḍam and returned without performing the Ḥajj rituals.21 Jāmī mentioned that Abu al-Hasan ibn Jahdam authored a book on Sufism titled Bihjat al-asrār.22 Abū Bakr ibn ̒Abdullāh ibn Ṭāhir al-Abharī (d. 330/941-42) was con- sidered a close associate of al-Shiblī, a prominent figure in Sufism. In the works of al-Sulamī, Anṣārī, and al-Sīrjānī, al-Abharī is categorized as one of the revered Jibāl Sufis, acknowledged for his numerous virtues.23 His connections to two other notable Jibāl Sufis are well-documented. He was a devoted follower of Yūsuf ibn Ḥusayn al-Rāzī (d. 304/916-7)24 and a companion of Muẓaffar al-Qarmīsīnī (d. c. 330/942). Al-Mustawfī (d. 750/1340) reports about his tomb in Abhar in the eighth/fourteenth century.25 The available historical records offer limited insight into the scope of his influence. Nevertheless, a testimony provided by Abū Muḥammad Muhallab ibn Aḥmad ibn Marzūq Miṣrī sheds light on the profound impact Abharī had on individuals seeking spiritual guidance. Mohallab openly acknowledged that no other spiritual mentor had benefited him as greatly as Abharī did.26 Abharī’s religious knowledge and practice of waraʻ (pious abstinence) earned him high praise. Notably, he did not view knowledge as separate from spiritual truth and mystical experiences, thereby emphasizing their interconnectedness.27 There is no evidence of al-Abharī’s authorship of any written works, thus leaving some uncertainty with regard to the nature of his nearly ninety comments on verses from the Qurʼān as documented by al-Su- lamī in Ḥaqāʼiq al-tafsīr. It remains unclear whether these comments stem from a comprehensive tafsīr or are merely isolated observations. Nevertheless, the understanding of Abharī’s personality and teachings relies upon the analysis of these comments along with other preserved sayings attributed to him.28 In the definition of the two mystical concepts of jamʻ (unity) and tafriqat (separation), after pointing out from the Qurʼān that “God bears witness that there is no god but Him, as do the angels and those who have knowledge,”29 al-Sarrāj refers to Abharī’s opinion, who believed that 110  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 unity is the coming together of all in the presence of Adam, and sepa- ration is in his children. Al-Sarrāj asserts that unity is the fundamental principle, with separation being a secondary concept. The understanding of the principles can only be achieved through the comprehension of the subsidiary concepts, and conversely, the establishment of the sub- sidiary concepts relies on the principles. According to this perspective, any group that denies the notion of separation is deemed to be outside the bounds of the Islamic faith. Conversely, if a group embraces sepa- ration without acknowledging the principle of unity, it abandons the fundamental belief in tawḥīd (the oneness of God), which serves as the cornerstone of Islamic belief.30 In the explanation of this verse from the Qurʼān, “He admits whoever He wills into His mercy. As for the wrongdoers, He has prepared for them a painful punishment,”31 al-Abharī believes that “The divine will, not pious action, is the cause of God’s mercy upon humankind. This is because mercy is an attribute of God, and His attri- butes are flawless, whereas human actions are flawed. With imperfect deeds, humans cannot bring forth those attributes that are perfect.”32 Al-Abharī shares a view similar to that of Yaḥyā ibn Muʻādh al-Rāzī (d. 258/872), the mentor of Yūsuf ibn Ḥusayn al-Rāzī. According to Ibn al-Ṭāhir al-Maqdisī, the Muʻādhiyya (the followers of Yaḥyā ibn Muʻādh al-Razī) preached that God, by His grace and forgiveness, would not punish anyone for the sins they had committed unless they were unbelievers.33 One notable attribute of Abharī’s ethical framework lies in its social dimension. Rather than delineating the faithful (muʼmin) based on a unique connection with God, Abharī identifies them through their sense of personal security (amn) from their own inner self (nafs) as well as their ability to ensure the security of others in their presence. Consequently, “everyone who sees him is fond of him; every troubled person rejoices when he sees him; every lonely person feels at home with him; and every perplexed person seeks refuge with him.”34 Aḥmad ibn Muḥmmad ibn al-Faḍl, also known as Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī, was a renowned Sufi during the late fourth/tenth cen- tury. He was a devoted disciple of Jaʻfar al-Khuldī and studied under the S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  111 guidance of Abū Khafīf al-Shīrāzī. Al-Nahāwandī also had a connection with Bābā Kuhī (Sheikh Abū ʻAbdullāh Bakūyeh of Shīrāz) who lived in the first quarter of the fifth/eleventh century.35 Most of the accounts we have concerning Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī pertain to his khāneqāh in Nahāwand. One notable story involves a Christian man who sought to assess the intelligence of Muslims. Initially, he visited the khāneqāh of Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Qaṣṣāb (d. c.fourth/tenth century) where he was met with somewhat harsh treatment. Al-Qaṣṣāb objected to the Christian’s presence as an outsider on the mystical path. Offended, the Christian then proceeded to Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī’s khāneqāh, where he was received with kindness and hospitality. He joined the Sufis in prayer for four months, and when he decided to depart, Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī invited him to embrace Islam. The Christian converted and subsequently rose to a prominent position in Sufism, eventually becoming the leader of the khāneqāh after Abū al-ʻAbbās’ passing.36 During that time, one distinctive trait of Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī, as described by Anṣārī, was his preference for a simple black dress known as kheftān when appearing in public, even though other Sufis wore var- ious garments such as the qabā, khirqa, ṭīlsān, and gilīm.37 He earned a livelihood by sewing hats and deliberately embraced a life of poverty as part of his mystical lifestyle.38 In addition to Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī’s contributions to early Sufism, two of his students, namely Sheikh ̒ Amū (d. 441/1049) and Akhī Faraj al-Zanjānī (d. 457/1065), emerged as influential figures in their own right. Sheikh ʻAmū established a khāneqāh in Herat, and among his dis- ciples was Anṣārī.39 Akhī Faraj al-Zanjānī, on the other hand, founded a khāneqāh in Zanjān.40 While there is a narration from Samarqandī sug- gesting that Niẓāmī of Ganja (519-587/1141-1209) was a student of Akhī al-Zanjānī, the conflicting information about Akhī al-Zanjānī’s year of death casts doubt on this claim.41 Another piece of evidence confirming the presence of a khāneqāh in this region dates back to the establishment of ribāṭ in Hamadān. During the early fourth/tenth century, Abū Ṭālib al-Khazraj ibn ʻAlī al-Baghdādī, faced some unspecified issues with the people in Shīrāz. 112  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 The details regarding these issues remain unknown. However, we are aware that during his illness in Shīrāz, Khafif Shīrāzi served Abū Ṭālib.42 Subsequently, ʻAlī ibn Sahl al-Iṣbahānī (d. 307/919) opposed his stay in Isfahan. Consequently, Abū ʻAlī al-Warājī, the official tax collector in Hamadān, extended an invitation to Abū Ṭālib to relocate to Hamadān and construct a ribāṭ there on his behalf.43 This ribāṭ in Hamadān is believed to be one of the earliest Sufi khāneqāh establishments in the region. It appears that Abū Ṭālib al-Khazraj deliberately darkened its interior and exterior, designating the ribāṭ as a dwelling for those who had experienced affliction and intended for them to remain there for the rest of their lives.44 In conclusion, this evidence indicates that early Sufism in Hamadān developed in connection with Sufism rooted in Iraq and was influenced by renowned Iraqi Sufis such as al-Junayd and al-Shiblī. Abū ʻAlī al-Nahāwandī al-Qūmsānī and his karāma More comprehensive information is available regarding the Sufis who emerged in Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Abhar from the fourth/tenth century onward. Among these Sufis, one figure of significance, yet rel- atively lesser-known in the annals of Sufism, is Abū ʻAlī al-Nahāwandī al-Qūmsānī (also known as Ibn Mazdīn). Born in Nahāwand and passing away in 387/997 in Anbaṭ near Hamadān, his legacy rests on a limited body of information. Primarily, our knowledge about him is derived from two sources: the first being Ṭabaqāt al-hamadānīn by Shīrīwiya ibn Shāhrdār al-Daylamī al-Hamadānī (445-509/1054-1116). Although this volume is lost to us, al-Dhahabī and Yāqūt al-Ḥamawī have referenced and quoted fragments from it. According to al-Dhahabī, al-Qūmsānī held a prominent position among the renowned Sufis of Jibāl, and two of his disciples, Jaʻfar Abharī and Muḥammad ibn ʻῙsā al-Hamadānī, subsequently played key roles in propagating Sufism in Hamadān. Al-Dhahabī’s writings make it evident that al-Qūmsānī was associated with numerous karāma (extraordinary spiritual phenomena) and har- bored strong animosity towards the rāfiḍah (a broad term referring to Shīʿī Muslims), whom he regarded as being influenced by malevolent S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  113 forces. Following his demise, pilgrims from various cities flocked to visit his grave in Anbaṭ.45 The second text is Karāmāt Sheikh Abī ʻAlī al-Qūmsānī, authored by Abū al-Faḍl Muḥmmad ibn ʻUthmān (commonly known as Ibn Zīrak; d. 471/1078), who happens to be the grandson of al-Qūmsānī.46 While no original writings from al-Qūmsānī have survived, Ibn Zīrak provides an insight into the social contexts of Sufism in Hamadān by recounting the miracles attributed to him. Al-Dhahabī identifies Ibn Zīrak as Abū al-Faḍl al-Qūmsānī al-Hamdhānī, an Ashʻarī scholar who had the opportunity to meet Abū ‘Abd al-Raḥmān al-Sulamī (d. 412/1021).47 Ibn Zīrak’s treatise comprises over 45 anecdotes highlighting the karāmā associated with al-Qūmsānī. The narrative begins with the story of a Sufi named Abū al-Hayj al-Kurdī, who expressed a desire to visit al-Qūmsānī. However, upon reaching al-Qūmsānī’s residence, he is informed that the esteemed figure has fallen ill and passed away. These stories shed light on al-Qūmsānī’s reception of the muraqqaʼa (or khirqa; Sufi cloak) from Jaʻfar al-Khuldī (d. 348/959), as well as his close relationship with Ibrāhīm ibn Shaybān in Qarmīsīn (d. c. 337/948). Despite al-Qūmsānī’s impoverished state, his home served as a place of hospitality for the needy. Travelers from Khurāsān, en route to Jerusalem, would often stay in his house for a few days during their stop in Hamadān. Notably, the region housed Zoroastrians, one of whom embraced Islam after witnessing the miracles performed by al-Qūmsānī.48 One of these narrations illustrates how al-Qūmsānī received the muraqqaʼa from al-Khuldī’s hand, which is regarded as one of al-Qūmsānī’s karāma. Although al-Qūmsānī did not consider himself deserving of wearing such a muraqqaʼa, al-Khuldī blessed him with it, and the other students also embraced this gesture. However, a few days later, when al-Qūmsānī heard al-Khuldī discussing the proper etiquette of wearing a muraqqaʼa, he became agitated and restless, withdraw- ing from public view for several days. Subsequently, some fishermen approached al-Khuldī, presenting him with muraqqaʼa they had found in the stomach of a Tigris river fish. Upon examining the muraqqaʼa, al-Khuldī realized that was exactly the same muraqqaʼa he had given to al-Qūmsānī. Drawing a parallel to the story of Prophet Suleiman’s 114  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 ring, which was retrieved from the belly of a fish, al-Khuldī conveyed to his students that no one could be more deserving of wearing the muraqqaʼa than al-Qūmsānī. Upon hearing this, al-Qūmsānī promptly departed from Baghdad and returned to the Jibāl region, as he had no desire for fame.49 In one of the narratives, the text recounts an episode wherein al-Qūmsānī engages in communication with al-Shiblī during his sojourn in Baghdad. This interaction, however, carries an implicit critique of al-Shiblī. It appears that al-Qūmsānī frequently attended gatherings where the affluent congregated around al-Shiblī. While a pious indi- vidual extends an invitation to a select few from al-Qūmsānī, it seems that al-Qūmsānī readily accepted the majority of al-Shiblī’s invitations. Despite being invited multiple times by a pious and impoverished indi- vidual, it appears that al-Qūmsānī consistently attends gatherings hosted by al-Shiblī, neglecting the invitations extended by the virtuous but financially disadvantaged person. It is only when this destitute individual implores al-Qūmsānī, saying, “Sheikh, pay heed to the plight of the poor as well!” that al-Qūmsānī visits the humble abode of this indigent person and partakes in a frugal meal consisting of barley bread. Subsequently, they embark together towards the banks of the Tigris River. There, the destitute person spreads a mat upon the river’s surface and commences prayer, beseeching al-Qūmsānī to join him. Al-Qūmsānī, filled with trep- idation due to his lack of experience in such mystical circumstances, doubts his ability to surmount this spiritual test. It is then that the desti- tute individual asserts, “One who prioritizes the company of the wealthy over the invitation of the impoverished cannot lay a carpet upon the water.” Following this esoteric guidance and the illumination of his inner self, al-Qūmsānī is able to offer his prayers atop the river’s surface.50 Several narratives found within Karāmāt Sheikh Abī ̒Alī al-Qūmsānī derive from the vivid dreams experienced by al-Qūmsānī. These dreams depict encounters with God, the Prophet Muhammad, and his compan- ions. Such dreams not only signify a sacred connection, and al-Qūmsānī’s divine election, but also yield miraculous outcomes upon awaken- ing, manifesting as his karāma. An exemplary account from the year 381/991, coinciding with a period of severe famine, involves al-Qūmsānī S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  115 encountering God in a dream. During this encounter, God conveys the following message: “You are my family, and your family is also my family.” As a result, the entire al-Qūmsānī family and all those who visit him will be safeguarded from the impending famine.51 This instance highlights the profound impact of al-Qūmsānī’s dreams, as they extend divine protection to those connected to him, ensuring their well-being during times of adversity. Students of al-Qūmsānī, such as Muḥammad ibn ʻῙsā al-Hamadānī, known as Ibn Zaydān or Yazīdān (d. 430 or 431/1038-39), and Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī, played a significant role in perpetuating the teachings of their esteemed teacher. Notable Sufis like Ibn Zīrak al-Qūmsānī, Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī, Bunjīr al-Hamadānī, and ʻAbd al-Wāḥid ibn ʻAlī al-Hamadānī, also known as Ibn Yūga, were among the disciples of Ibn ̒ Ῑsā al-Hamadānī. Ibn ̒ Ῑsā al-Hamadānī dedicated himself to worship day and night, devoting his entire wealth to the khāneqāh or distributing it to the needy. Tragically, he met his demise during a Turkish attack on Hamadān.52 It is plausible that this khāneqāh could have been the one constructed by al-Qūmsānī, serving as a residence for his disciples. Historical accounts reveal that Aḥmad Ghazālī (d. c. 520/1126), along with several scholars from Khurāsān, settled in a khāneqāh administered by one of Bābā Jaʻfar’s students named Bunjīr ibn Manṣūr al-Hamadānī during their visit to Hamadān.53 Noteworthy disciples of Bunjīr include Shīrīwiya al-Daylamī and Abū ̒Alī Musī al-Ābādī. The latter established a khāneqāh in Hamadān and, for a period, maintained another in Qazwīn, where he elucidated the teachings of Riyāḍat al-nafs to scholars and Sufis (see below).54 Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī and Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ One of the most influential disciples of al-Qūmsānī is Jaʻfar ibn Muḥmmad ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Abharī,55 who primarily resided in Hamadān throughout his lifetime, earning him the moniker al-Hamadānī. Al-Dhahabī, refer- ring to him as Sheikh al-zāhid, cites Shīrīwiya’s account, stating that he was born in Abhar in 350/961 and passed away in Hamadān in 428/1036.56 Renowned for his rigorous asceticism, al-Abharī engaged in extended 116  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 fasting periods, abstaining from food for a remarkable span of fifty days.57 Al-Rāfiʻī, including al-Qūmsānī among his mentors, further adds that he was commonly known as bābā within Sufi circles. Additionally, Al-Rāfiʻī asserts that Ibn Zīrak authored a book documenting the miracles of al-Abharī; however, no known copies of this text exist.58 Nevertheless, it is plausible that al-Abharī is indeed the renowned Bābā Jaʻfar referenced by Ibn Rāwandī in his semi-legendary account of his encounter with Bābā Ṭāhir and Sheikh Ḥamshā in Hamadān during Ṭughril’s reign. Ibn Rāwandī, in a narrative pertaining to the rule of Ṭughril Beg (r. 429-1037/455-1063), the progenitor of the Seljuk dynasty, recounts the following: When Sultan Ṭughril Beg came to Hamadān, there were three saints there: Bābā Ṭāhir, Bābā Jaʻfar, and Shaykh Ḥamshā. They were standing on a small mountain called Khiḍr close to the gate of Hamadān. The Sultan saw them. He stopped the army and went to see them on foot accompanied by his vizier Abū Naṣr al-Kundurī. He kissed their hands. Bābā Ṭāhir, the enthralled soul, said to the Sultan: ʻʻO Turk! What will you do with Godʻs people?” The Sultan replied: ʻʻWhatever you command.” Bābā said: ̒ ʻ[Rather,] do that which God orders: ̒Verily, God commands justice and spiritual excellence.’” [Qur’ān 16: 90] The Sultan wept and said: ʻʻI will do so.” Bābā held his hand and said: ʻʻDo you accept this from me?” The Sultan said: ʻʻYes!” Bābā had a broken ewer, which for years he had used for ablutions, and kept its tip on his finger [as a ring]. He took it out and put it on the finger of the Sultan and said: ʻʻThus, I have handed you the dominion over the world. Stand firm on justice.” The Sultan kept that ring among his amulets (taʼwīdh). Whenever he would go on battle, he would put on this ring.59 The potential correlation between Bābā Jaʻfar and Bābā Ṭāhir also captivated the interest of another writer. Al-Nīshāburī (d. 728/1328), in his tafsīr on Qur’ānic verses concerning paradise, presented an alternative S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  117 narrative. According to his account, Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī paid a visit to Bābā Ṭāhir al-Hamadānī on a certain day. Bābā Jaʻfar inquired of Bābā Ṭāhir, “Where have you been? I had an encounter with God last night in the company of some khawāṣ (distinguished individuals), but I did not see you among them.” In response, Bābā Ṭāhir acknowledged, “Indeed, you are correct! You were accompanied by khawāṣ, whereas I was engrossed in the presence of Akhaṣ (the supremely special; God). Hence, it is understandable that you did not perceive my presence!”60 The writings attributed to Bābā Jaʻfar include Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ (The Etiquette of the Poor) and Riyāḍat al-nafs (The Abstinence of the Self). In Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ, the author’s biography remains undisclosed, but according to al-Samʻānī, Jaʻfar al-Abharī is considered the author. Moreover, Bābā Jaʻfar is recognized to have been influenced by prominent Sufi masters such as al-Qūmsānī, Khafīf al-Shīrāzi, and ʻAbd al-Ḥasan al-Qazwīnī.61 The primary objective behind the author’s endeavor in composing the book was to address the inquiries of his disciples.62 Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ, which encompasses 22 sections, commences with a section titled “The Truth of Poverty.” Alongside narratives featuring renowned Sufis, Bābā Jaʻfar endeavors to articulate his own Sufi doc- trine. Notably, the book employs a variety of poems interwoven within a labyrinth of mystical anecdotes. Although the majority of these poems are in Arabic, Bābā Jaʻfar incorporates two Persian verses and a fahlawī verse centered on the theme of Majnūn’s love. According to Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ, an inference can be drawn suggesting that Bābā Jaʻfar likely harbored intentions of exchanging certain mystical attributes associated with al-Junayd and Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī (d. 261/874). Alternatively, it can be argued that his perception of these two revered Sufis conflicts with that of al-Hujwīrī. Al-Hujwīrī indicates that al- Junayd’s Sufism is characterized by sobriety, whereas Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī’s Sufism is associated with intoxication.63 In Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ, al-Junayd’s figure is prominently portrayed in relation to samāʻ, which is frequently depicted as a central mystical aspect of an intoxicated state and often regarded as a hallmark of Sufism in Khurāsān.64 Additionally, Bāyazīd extensively delves into the science of Sufism in the same text, consid- ering it a discipline in accordance with the Sharīʻa. Notably, although 118  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 Bābā Jaʻfar himself is a ḥadīth scholar, he endorses a critical and sarcastic statement made by al-Junayd concerning the transmitters: “How long do you intend to count the heads of the dead?” Bāyazīd’s retort is as follows: “We derive our knowledge from the life of a person who does not die.”65 One notable aspect of Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ revolves around Bābā Jaf’ar’s defense of Ibn Yazdānyār al-Armawī. Ibn Yazdānyār found himself at odds with the Sufis of Iraq, particularly al-Junayd and al-Shiblī, accus- ing them of openly discussing Sufi doctrines and divulging the sacred insights of Ḥaqq.66 This animosity, as described by al-Sarrāj, prompted Ibn Yazdānyār to compose letters warning people in other cities about the Sufis in Iraq, denouncing them for their alleged blasphemy and bidʻa (“innovation”).67 Conversely, al-Shiblī derisively labels Ibn Yazdānyār as a “cow,”68 while al-Sulamī recounts a tale wherein al-Muṣilī dreams that on the Day of Resurrection, God turned away from Ibn Yazdānyār and instructed him to keep his distance due to his treatment of God’s cherished off- spring, the Sufis, as adversaries.69 Another dream is relayed by Bābā Jaʻfar in defense of Ibn Yazdānyār: “In this dream, Ibn Yazdānyār encounters the recently deceased Abū Yaḥyā al-Armawī and inquires about the fate of his companions on the Day of Resurrection. Abū Yaḥyā responds by affirming that anyone who associates with them will be a companion of the Almighty.”70 Nevertheless, Bābā Jaʻfar cites Ibn Yazdānyār’s statement to defend Sufism, asserting that while he did express concerns about the conduct of certain Sufis who recklessly divulged sacred knowledge to the incompetent, he did not outright reject Sufism.71 The section devoted to samāʻ in Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ holds a prominent position as the lengthiest section within the book, indicating the special attention paid by Bābā Jaʻfar to the significant role of samāʻ in Sufism. In order to convey this significance, Bābā Jaʻfar employs various narratives, one of which involves a metaphorical depiction of a house engulfed in flames with a person trapped inside. This metaphor serves to illustrate the experience of an individual immersed in the practice of samāʻ. The narrative portrays a scene where the wind howls, intensifying the flames, while the individual continues to scream and shout incessantly without pause or respite. In the midst of this chaotic turmoil, the person urgently S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  119 cries out, “Fire! Fire!” However, as soon as anyone attempts to rush forward and rescue the trapped individual or extinguish the fire, they too become engulfed by the flames.72 This vivid depiction implies that engaging in samāʻ ignites a profound fire within the Sufi’s soul, a fire of mystical love that cannot easily be quenched or subdued. Furthermore, Bābā Jaʻfar endeavors to illustrate the transcendence and loftiness of samāʻ by recounting a tale from Abū ̒Abdullāh al-Maghribī concerning the creation of beings. According to this account, God fash- ioned the celestial inhabitants from His own divine light. Among these celestial beings are the eighty thousand angels who perpetually revel in an ecstatic state, adorned in verdant garments as they traverse The Mighty Throne. Bābā Jaʻfar likens these heavenly beings to the Sufis, emphasizing their exalted status and alluding to the sublime nature of samāʻ.73 By employing such narratives, Bābā Jaʻfar not only underscores the extensive treatment of samāʻ in Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ but also seeks to emphasize its profound significance within the context of Sufism. These stories serve to convey the transformative power of samāʻ, wherein the practitioner becomes consumed by a fervent love and devotion, akin to a blazing fire, which cannot be easily extinguished. Furthermore, Bābā Jaʻfar draws a parallel between the heavenly beings and Sufis, suggesting that engaging in samāʻ grants individuals a glimpse of the divine ecstasy experienced by these celestial entities. The comparative analysis reveals that Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ surpasses Riyāḍat al-nafs in terms of length and content. The initial section of the manuscript employed for this inquiry provides valuable information regarding the origins of Riyāḍat al-nafs. According to the scribe, the treatise was penned in 561/1166 and is attributed to Jaʻfar ibn Muḥmmad ibn Ḥusayn al-Abharī, who is acknowledged as its author. The scribe further notes that Sheikh Muḥmmad ibn Benyāmīn (Bunaymān?) Ibn Yūsuf Hamadānī served as an oral source for the writing of this treatise.74 Evidently, Riyāḍat al-nafs held considerable significance, particularly among the followers of Bābā Jaʻfar. Numerous reports attest to the fact that many Sufis residing in Qazwīn diligently studied this book in the company of Abū ̒Alī Musī Ābādī.75 It becomes evident that Abharī’s work 120  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 aimed to address the prevailing decline in abstinence and the waning commitment to abstain from sins during his era. Consequently, he found it necessary to draw upon the ḥadīths of the Prophet and the moral anecdotes derived from the lives of Sufis. The treatise is structured into multiple chapters, encompassing various themes such as ‘renunciation,’ ‘asceticism in this world,’ ‘loneliness,’ ‘the characteristics of the soul,’ and more. Each chapter delves into these subjects, shedding light on their sig- nificance within the context of the treatise and the broader Sufi tradition. Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī and Rawḍat al-murīdīn Another student of Bābā Jaʻfar is Abū Jaʻfar Muḥammad ibn al-Husayn ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī (380-472/990-1079), and Shīrīwiya has doc- umented his state of poverty.76 It is important to differentiate between Ibn Yazdānyār and Abū Bakr al-Ḥusayn ibn ʻAlī ibn Yazdānyār al-Ar- mawī (d. c.333/945, see above), who preceded him. Al-Sulamī dedicates a chapter of his book, Ṭabaqāt al-ṣūfiyya, to Ibn Yazdānyār al-Armawī.77 Moreover, within Rawḍat al-murīdīn, Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī refers to al-Sulamī’s statements on multiple occasions. Therefore, in terms of chronology, it is highly likely that Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī lived subsequent to al-Sulamī. Furthermore, it should be noted that Rawḍat al-murīdīn, the only surviving work of Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī, contains quotations from Ibn Yazdānyār al-Armawī.78 However, Williams proposes a possible familial connection between the two individuals,79 although no evidence substantiates this claim. Rawḍat al-murīdīn belongs to a genre of Sufi literature commonly referred to as Sufi manuals. Despite the existence of numerous manuscripts, no critical editions have been published thus far. Nonetheless, Williams has provided a translation based on five man- uscripts in his doctoral dissertation.80 In one of the older manuscripts of Rawḍat al-murīdīn (758/1357) housed at Princeton University, the author is explicitly identified as Sheikh Imām Abī Jaʻfar Muḥammad al-Ḥusayn ibn Aḥmad ibn Yazdānyār. Rawḍat al-murīdīn, composed in Arabic, exhibits a deliberate endeavor by the author to employ a straightforward style, avoiding S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  121 intricate and ambiguous terminology.81 Salamah-Qudsi has thematically categorized the book into four distinct sections: (1) the broader concept of Sufism, distinguished from other adherents of Islam; (2) specific provi- sions encompassing the regular communal life and interrelations among Sufis; (3) segments dedicated to the practice of samāʻ; and (4) sections devoted to various Sufi ‘stations’ (maqamāt) such as love (maḥabba), knowledge (maʻrifa), trust in God (tawakkul), and others.82 The lack of familiarity with works such as Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ and Rawḍat al-murīdīn appears to have led certain writers, like Hujwīrī, to erroneously perceive a dichotomy between ṣaḥw (‘sobriety’) and sikr (‘intoxication’) (as mentioned earlier in the context of al-Junayd/ Bāyazīd). However, in Rawḍat al-murīdīn, Junayd’s doctrinal framework of Sufism is merged with the ḥallājian notion of unity and is also in con- sonance with Bāyazīd’s perspectives on Sufism. The mystical content of Rawḍat al-murīdīn possibly does not align with the prevailing classifi- cations in the field of Sufi Studies. Consequently, Salamah-Qudsi posits that “the author of Rawḍa seeks to present a comprehensive umbrella of Sufism under which the teachings of al-Junayd coexist alongside those of al-Ḥallāj.”83 Ibn Yazdānyār takes it a step further by combining Ḥallāj’s utterances with Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī’s Sufi attitudes. In section 26, titled ‘On the Lovers and their States’,84 one of al-Ḥallāj’s renowned ecstatic expressions is ascribed to Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī: “I am the one that I desire, the one I desire is I; We are two spirits dwelling in a single body. So when you have seen me, you have seen him. And when you have seen him, you have seen us.”85 It appears that Ibn Yazdānyār was not oblivious to the authorship of this renowned couplet of al-Ḥallāj, nor concerned about its implications of ‘incarnation’ regarding the divine taking human form. If he had har- bored apprehensions about al-Ḥallāj’s perspective on the incarnation, which involved expressing mystical union as the convergence of two spirits within one body, he would have refrained from including this well-known poem in his book altogether. Furthermore, elsewhere in Rawḍat al-murīdīn, the words of other Sufis are attributed to Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī.86 It can be inferred that Ibn Yazdānyār intended to demon- strate that the concept of unity could be conveyed through the language 122  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 employed by other Sufis like Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī. However, this should not be misconstrued as the author’s endeavor to reconcile divergent views within Sufism. In Rawḍat al-murīdīn, Ibn Yazdānyār not only echoes the teachings of other Sufis but also presents his own interpre- tation of Sufism. In Rawḍat al-murīdīn, Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī devoted consider- able attention to al-Junayd. Furthermore, his frequent allusions to al-Ḥallāj are noteworthy, as his repetition of al-Ḥallāj’s thoughts can be interpreted as an attempt to exonerate him from the charges that led to his execution. This proactive approach can be observed in the following passage: When al-Ḥallāj was asked about Sufism, he answered: ‘[It is] cal- cinations of humanity and eliminations [that are the concern] of divinity (ṭawāmīs wa-dawāmīs lāhūtiyya).’ The questioner then said: ‘I asked him to explain this statement.’ He [al-Ḥallāj] said: ‘No explanation is possible.’ I said: ‘Why did you reveal it to me?’ He replied: ‘The one who knows it [that is the meaning] will understand, and the one who does not know it will not under- stand’. I said: ‘I beg you to explain it to me.’ He then recited [the verse]: ‘Do not defame us in public. Here is our finger tainted with the lovers’ blood.’87 Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī’s approach bears a striking resemblance to Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī’s perspectives on Sufism. In terms of both content and the significance attributed to certain themes such as samāʻ (sections 18-25) and love (sections 26-28), Rawḍat al-murīdīn appears to exhibit a close affinity with Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ. In a similar manner to Abū Manṣūr al-Iṣfahānī (d. 418/1038),88 Ibn Yazdānyār employs the term maḥabba, rather than ʻishq, to convey the concept of love. He innovatively clas- sifies love into six categories: ‘lustfulness’ (shāhwāniyya), ‘cordiality’ (mawaddatiyya), ‘love that involves with the Divine’ (rabbāniyya), ‘love that engages repentance’ (maḥabba tawbatiyya), ‘earthly’ (ṭīniyya), and ‘love that engages divine providence’ (maḥabba ʻināʼiyya).89 One of the symbolic narratives concerning love recounted in Rawḍat al-murīdīn originates from Bashar al-Ḥārith (d. 227/841). According to S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  123 the account, “I [al-Ḥārith] found myself strolling through the bustling Bazaar of Baghdad when my attention was drawn to a man being sub- jected to a severe flogging, enduring a thousand lashes without uttering a single sigh of distress. Intrigued by this spectacle, I pursued him after he was apprehended, and inquired as to the reason behind his torment. He replied, ‘It is because I am enamored.’ Curious, I further questioned, ‘Why did you remain silent?’ He responded, ‘For my beloved was observ- ing me.’ I persisted, ‘What if you were to have the chance to encounter him?’ Overwhelmed by the mere thought of reuniting with his beloved, he cried out ecstatically and met his demise instantaneously.”90 The narrative in Rawḍat al-murīdīn presents a profound mystical allegory about the nature of love and its transformative power. The central character, who endures severe punishment without flinching, symbolizes the enlightened seeker on the path of divine love. This indi- vidual has reached a state of spiritual absorption, where the pain inflicted upon them by the world holds no sway over their inner being. When the protagonist is questioned about the reason for their silence in the face of torment, their response unveils a profound truth. They explain that their silence stems from the awareness that their beloved, representing the Divine, is ever-present and watching over them. In this context, the beloved serves as a metaphor for the ultimate source of love and spiritual union. The dialogue takes a transformative turn when the protagonist is asked what would happen if they were granted the opportunity to meet their beloved. The overwhelming excitement and longing to unite with the Divine beloved result in their ecstatic cry and immediate demise. This mystical demise represents the annihilation of the seeker’s ego and indi- viduality as they merge with the Divine Essence. The story encapsulates the journey of the mystic, who, through unwavering devotion and sur- render, transcends the limitations of the worldly realm and experiences the ecstatic union with the Divine. It teaches that true love requires the seeker to endure the trials and tribulations of the path, remaining stead- fast in their devotion and awareness of the Divine presence. Ultimately, it is through the annihilation of the self that the mystic attains the sublime ecstasy of oneness with the Beloved. 124  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 Undoubtedly, the sections pertaining to samāʻ in Rawḍat al-murīdīn and Adab al-mulūk by Abū Manṣūr al-Iṣfahānī91 hold immense signifi- cance as theoretical texts within the Jibāl region. In the initial portion, Ibn Yazdānyār presents a compelling argument, asserting that samāʻ is permissible (mubāḥ) within the framework of Islamic law.92 Moreover, he fortifies his defense of samāʻ through an intriguing employment of an allegorical tale that originates from “cosmological-metaphysical sources.”93 It is likely that this allegory had previously surfaced in Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ.94 Similarly, Ibrāhīm ibn al-Shaybān, another Sufi hailing from Jibāl, recounts the same narrative: I heard my master Abū ʿAbd Allāh al-Maghribī saying: “the people of Heaven were created from God’s light of majesty. Seventy thousand of the intimate angels (al-malāʼika al- muqarrabīn) are seated between the Divine Throne (ʻarsh) and the Divine Seat (kursī) in the Yard of Intimacy. Their dress is green wool, and their faces are like the full moon on a clear night. Their hairs are like women’s. They are immersed in ecstasy from the day of creation and will remain as such until the Day of Resurrection. The people of the Seven Heavens would hear their cries and moaning. They are Sufis of Heaven. They race from God’s Throne to God’s Seat while being almost intoxicated by the intensive passion bestowed upon them. The Angel Isrāfīl is their leader and their mouthpiece. Considering their lineage, these are our brothers, and considering their spiritual path, they are 59 of our companions.”95 This anecdote, narrated in the voice of Adam, serves to underscore the practice of samāʻ among the Angels in Heaven. Furthermore, this story provides two justifications for samāʻ. Firstly, the narrator desig- nates the Angels as the Sufis of Heaven, drawing a parallel between their celestial existence and the earthly Sufis. Additionally, these ethereal beings are asserted to originate from the divine light, thereby absolving them of any sins. As a result, their dance is not only untainted by sin but also an act of worship. The angelic Sufis embody the eternal pursuit of S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  125 divine intimacy and the intoxicating journey toward divine union. Their presence serves as a reminder of the transcendent nature of the spiritual path and the ever-present invitation to embark upon a mystical journey that leads the creatures closer to the Divine. Another anecdote concerning samāʻ is attributed to Abū Bakr ibn Yazdānyār al-Armawī. Ibn Yazdānyār al-Armawī recounts an inci- dent where he participated in a samāʼ gathering with his companions. However, during the event, he heard a voice from the Unseen question- ing him, “Are you approaching God or simply engaging in frivolity?” This encounter prompted him to immediately leave the gathering, realizing the potential dangers associated with samāʻ. He recognized the need to refrain from participating until he familiarized himself with the proper etiquette of the practice.96 Similar to the ideas of Yaḥyā ibn Muʻāḍh Rāzī (d. 258/872) concern- ing the creation,97 Ibn Yazdānyār acknowledges that during the moment when God posed the question, “Am I not your Lord?” to humankind, they wholeheartedly responded, “Yes, we do testify.”98 This direct exchange transcends any limitations and defies description through conventional attributes. The essence of this divine discourse lingers within human- ity. Consequently, when individuals encounter a captivating melody or hear pleasant words during the practice of samāʻ, their attention becomes fixated on that original divine address, and they are drawn back to its source. These individuals are the mystics who have perceived God’s eternal presence and have developed an intimate connection with the Divine.99 Salamah-Qudsi presents an analysis of Ibn Yazdānyār’s Sufi text, highlighting its alignment with the pro-karrāmī mystical sect. Notably, she asserts that Rawḍat al-murīdīn is likely one of the earliest references to Ibn Karrām (d. 255/869), the founder of the Karrāmiyya sect, and his conceptualization of trust in God (tawakkul).100 Salamah-Qudsi argues that the disregard of Rawḍat al-murīdīn by the “Shāfiʻī-Ashʻarī-Baghdādī- oriented” can be attributed to the prevalent accusations of heresy directed towards the Karrāmiyya sect by writers in the 5th/11th century.101 To substantiate Ibn Yazdānyār’s religious inclination, Salamah- Qudsi suggests that the origin of Karrāmiyya can be traced back to the 126  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 mountainous region of Ṭabaristān to the north of Hamadān. Additionally, she points out the existence of a karrāmī madrasa in Herat, situated in the eastern part of Hamadān. However, it should be noted that these loca- tions are geographically distant from Hamadān. It is plausible that the limited understanding of Sufism in the Jibāl region among contemporary experts has influenced such conclusions. Presently, it is established that other Sufis from Jibāl, namely Yaḥyā ibn Muʻādh al-Rāzī and Abū Bakr ibn ʻAbdullāh ibn Ṭāhir al-Abharī, embraced a karrāmī attitude, while Yūsuf ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Rāzī leaned towards a malāmatī orientation.102 Conclusion The historical trajectory of Sufism in the Jibāl region has often been overlooked in contemporary historiography. However, it is evident that Sufism in this area developed in parallel with the mystical practices of Sufis in Iraq. Primary sources shed light on the connections between Sufis from Hamadān, Nahāwand, and Abhar and influential figures such as al-Junayd, al-Kharrāz, al-Khuldī, and al-Shiblī highlighting their role in disseminating Sufi teachings and practices. Moreover, the Jibāl region served as a significant route for pilgrims and seekers of knowledge, facilitating interactions with Sufis in local khāneqāhs. Various early Sufi figures emerged from the Jibāl region, such as Aḥnaf al-Hamadānī, Ziyād al-Kabīr al-Hamadānī, Kahmaṣ ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Hamadānī, Abū al-Qāsim ibn Marwān al-Nahāwandī al-Sufi, Abū al-Ḥasan ibn Jahḍam al-Hamadānī, Abū Bakr ibn ̒Abdullāh ibn Ṭāhir al-Abharī, Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī, and their students. Abū Bakr al-Abharī’s association with prominent Sufis such as al-Shiblī, Yūsuf ibn Ḥusayn al-Rāzī, and Muẓaffar al-Qarmīsīnī highlights his esteemed status among the Jibāl Sufis. While his authorship of writ- ten works remains uncertain, his nearly ninety comments on Qurʼānic verses, as documented by al-Sulamī, provide valuable insights into his teachings. Abharī’s belief in unity and the subsequent separation of enti- ties underscores the importance of maintaining a balance between these principles, serving as the cornerstone of the Islamic faith. Al-Abharī, similar to Yaḥyā ibn Muʻādh al-Rāzī, believes that God’s mercy is based S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  127 on His divine will rather than human actions. Al-Abharī’s ethical frame- work emphasizes social dimensions, identifying the faithful through their personal security and ability to ensure the security of others. Abū al-ʻAbbās al-Nahāwandī, on the other hand, exemplifies sim- plicity, humility, and a life of poverty as essential aspects of the mystical path. His khāneqāh in Nahāwand became a center of spiritual learning and transformation, attracting followers and students who went on to become influential figures in their own right. The story of the Christian man’s conversion underlines al-Nahāwandī’s compassion and hospital- ity, as well as the transformative power of Sufism. Abū ̒ Alī al-Nahāwandī al-Qūmsānī played instrumental roles in the propagation of Sufism in Hamadān. While al-Qūmsānī’s own writings have not survived, his grandson, Ibn Zīrak, sheds light on his life and miracles. The anecdotes contained within this text provide insights into the social context of Sufism in Hamadān and highlight the miracles asso- ciated with al-Qūmsānī. Notably, his humble home served as a place of hospitality for the needy, and travelers passing through Hamadān found refuge there. Among those who witnessed his miracles was a Zoroastrian who embraced Islam due to the profound impact of al-Qūmsānī’s spiri- tual manifestations. These accounts, alongside others, demonstrate the extraordinary nature of al-Qūmsānī’s karāma and the deep reverence he commanded among his contemporaries. Al-Qūmsānī’s spiritual journey is further illuminated by narratives recounting his interactions with notable figures such as Jaʻfar al-Khuldī and al-Shiblī. The story of receiving the muraqqa from al-Khuldī’s hand exemplifies al-Qūmsānī’s humility and his ultimate recognition as the deserving recipient of this spiritual symbol. The dreams experienced by al-Qūmsānī hold a special place in his spiritual narrative, as they signify divine connection and election. Through these dreams, he encounters God, the Prophet Muhammad, and his Companions, leading to mirac- ulous outcomes upon awakening. Such stories paint a vivid picture of al-Qūmsānī’s spiritual trials and the transformative moments that shaped his journey. Jaʻfar ibn Muḥammad ibn al-Ḥusayn al-Abharī, also known as Bābā Jaʻfar, was a disciple of al-Qūmsānī and a renowned ascetic. He resided 128  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 in Hamadān, earning the moniker al-Hamadānī. Known for his extended fasting periods, he engaged in rigorous asceticism. He is mentioned in a semi-legendary encounter with Sultan Ṭughril Beg and other saints in Hamadān. Bābā Jaʻfar authored the books Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ and Riyāḍat al-nafs. Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ explores Sufi doctrine, incorporating mystical anecdotes and poems. The book suggests Bābā Jaʻfar’s connection to the Sufi masters al-Junayd and Bāyazīd al-Basṭāmī. The section on samāʻ (spiritual audition) holds a prominent position, emphasizing its trans- formative power. Riyāḍat al-nafs addresses the decline in abstinence and highlights the importance of renunciation and asceticism in the Sufi tradition. Abū Jaʻfar Muḥammad ibn al-Husayn ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī, a student of Bābā Jaʻfar, is discussed, particularly his state of poverty. There is a distinction made between Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī and a previous figure named Abū Bakr al-Ḥusayn ibn ̒Alī ibn Yazdānyār al-Armawī. Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī’s only surviving work is Rawḍat al-murīdīn, a Sufi manual that has not been critically edited or published yet. The book covers various aspects of Sufism and includes teachings from other Sufis like al-Junayd and al-Ḥallāj. Ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadānī’s approach in the book is similar to Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī’s views on Sufism. The text also includes a mystical allegory about love and the transformative power it holds. Furthermore, the discussion focuses on the sections in Rawḍat al-murīdīn related to samāʻ (spiritual listening) and their sig- nificance within the Jibāl region. Various narratives and anecdotes are presented to support the practice of samāʻ in Sufism. The narratives and anecdotes presented in the primary sources examined throughout this study provide valuable insights into the social context, spiritual journeys, and transformative experiences of Sufis in the Jibāl region. They highlight the profound impact of Sufism on individu- als, communities, and society as a whole, emphasizing the significance of spiritual teachings, ethical frameworks, and practices in nurturing a deep connection with the divine. Despite the historical significance of Sufism in the Jibāl region, further research and scholarly attention are needed to fully understand and appreciate its contributions to the broader mysti- cal traditions of Islam. A more comprehensive examination of available S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  129 primary sources, critical editions of relevant texts, and interdisciplinary approaches can provide a richer understanding of the development and influence of Sufism in this region. 130  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 Endnotes 1 Guy Le Strange, The Lands of the Eastern Caliphate: Mesopotamia, Persia, and Central Asia from the Moslem Conquest to the Time of Timur (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1905), 185-99. 2 Nahāwand stands as one of the ancient cities within the Jibāl region, situated in the southern part of Hamadān and to the east of Kermānshāh (Qarmīsīn). The Battle of Nahāwand held great significance as a resounding triumph (fatḥ al-futūḥ), resulting in the expansion of Muslim governance throughout the Jibāl region. During the initial centuries following the advent of Islam, Nahāwand gained renown as the Māh al-Basra (a city in the Media/Jibāl region whose tax revenues were allocated towards the administration of Baṣra). By the 8th/14th century, Nahāwand’s populace predominantly comprised ethnically Kurdish individuals, with the majority adher- ing to the Twelver Shiite sect, see Ḥamd Allāh al-Mustawfī, Nuzhat al-Qulūb, ed. Sayyed Muhammad Dabir Syaqi (Tehran: Nashr-e Hadis-e Emruz, 2002), 74; Michael G. Morony, “Māh al-Baṣra,” in Encyclopaedia of Islam, Second Edition, http://dx.doi. org/10.1163/1573-3912_islam_SIM_4769. 3 Abhar, a town situated in the Jibāl region near Zanjān, was inhabited by Kurds during the 4th/10th century, see Abū al-Qāsim b. ʿAlī l-Naṣībī Ibn Ḥawqal, Kitāb ṣūrat al-arḍ (Book of the configuration of the land), ed. Johannes Hendrik Kramers (Beirut: Dar al-Maktabat al-Hayat, 1992), vol. 2, 360. 4 Ahmet T. Karamustafa, Sufism: The formative period (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2007), 56-60. 5 Abū ‘Abd al-Raḥmān al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt al-Ṣūfiyya, ed. Muṣṭafā ʿ Abd al-Qādir ʿ Aṭā (Beirut, Dar al-Kutub al-ʻIlmiyya, 2003), 141; ʻAbdullāh Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt al-Ṣūfi- yya, ed. Muhammad Sarwar Mawlayī (Tehran, Intishārāt-i Tūs, 1983),196; ʻAbd al-Rahmān Jāmī, Nafaḥāt al-Uns min Ḥaḍarāt al-Quds, ed. Mahmud ̒ Ābedī (Tehran Sokhan Publication, 2015), 71 and 79. 6 In this section, al-Sīrjānī employs a linguistic alternation by interchanging the terms al-mashāyikh (the plural form of sheikh) and, occasionally, al-sādāt (the plural form of sayyid), rather than using the term al-mutaṣawwifa (referring to ‘the group of Sufis’), see Abū al-Ḥasan al-Sīrjānī, Sufism, Black and White: A Critical Edition of Kitāb al-Bayāḍ wa-al-Sawād, ed. Bilal Orfali and Nada Saab (Leiden, Brill, 2012), bāb 39: 248-258. 7 Respectively Abū Naṣr al-Sarrāj, Kitāb al-lumaʻ fī al-taṣawwuf, ed. Reynold Alleyne Nicholson (London: Luzac & Co. 1914), 210, 148, and 104. 8 Respectively al-Sarrāj, Kitāb al-lumaʻ, 288, 191. 9 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 318; Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 254; Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 92. 10 Karamustafa, Sufism, 56. S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  131 11 For example, Karamustafa, Sufism; Alexander Knysh, Islamic Mysticism: A Short History (Leiden: Brill, 2010; Nile Green, Sufism: A Global History (Oxford, Wiley-Blackwell, 2012). 12 For distinguishing eighth-century renunciation and ninth-century Sufism, see Christopher Melchert, Before Sufism: Early Islamic Renunciant Piety (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2020), 10-19. 13 Abū al-Qāsim al-Qushayrī, al-Risāla al-qushayriyya, ed. ̒Abd al-Ḥalīm Mamūd and Maḥmūd ibn al-Sharīf (Cairo: Dār al-Shaʻb, 1989), 479. 14 Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 86. 15 Abū Bakr Muḥammad ibn Ibrāhīm al-Kalābādhī, al-Ta‘arruf li-madhhab ahl al-Taṣawwuf, ed. Ahmad Shams al-Dīn (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-‘Ilmiyya, 1993), 26. 16 Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 82-3. 17 Aḥmad ibn ‘Abd Allāh Abū Nuʻaym al-Iṣfahānī, Ḥilyat al-Awliyā’ wa-Ṭabaqāt al-Aṣfiyā’ (Cairo: Maktabat al-Khānjī, 1932-8), vol. 6, 211; al-Qushayrī, al-Risāla, 214; Ibrāhīm Mustamlī Bukhārī, Sharḥ al-taʻarruf li-madhhab al-taṣawwuf, ed. Muhammad Roshan (Tehran: Asatir, 1984), vol. 1, 219. 18 Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī, Siyar a‘lām al-nubalāʼ, ed. Shuʿayb al-Arnaʾūṭ and et al (Beirut: Muʾassasat al-Risāla, 1981-1988), vol. 6, 316-17. 19 Al-Kalābādhī, al-Ta’arruf, 288-89. 20 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 260; al-Baghdādī, Ṭāʾrīkh Baghdād, vol. 16, 577; Muḥammad ibn Aḥmad al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh al-Islām wa-wafayāt al-mashāhīr wa-al-aʿlām, ed. Umar Tadmurī (Beirut: Dār al-Kitāb al-‘Arabī, 1987–2004), vol. 24, 306-7. 21 Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 602. 22 Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 278. 23 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 406-10; al-Sīrjanī, Sufism, 559; Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 464. 24 For more information on Yūsuf ibn Ḥusayn al-Rāzī and other eraly Sufis of Rayy, see Fateh Saeidi, “Yaḥyā Ibn Muʻādh Al-Rāzī and His Disciples: Their Influence on Early Sufism,” Australian Journal of Islamic Studies 8, no. 1 (2023):42-61.https://doi. org/10.55831/ajis.v8i1.513 25 Al-Mustawfī, Nuzhat al-Qulūb, 102. 26 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 406; Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 464. 27 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 406-10; Abū Nuʻaym al-Iṣfahānī, Ḥilyat, vol. 10, 351-52; al- Qushayrī, al-Risāla, 113; Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 189 28 Benedikt Reinert, “Abharī, Abū Bakr,” Encyclopædia Iranica, http://www.iranicaon- line.org/articles/abhari-abu-bakr-sufi-of-persian-eraq-d-941-42. 29 Qurʼān 3:18. 30 Al-Sarrāj, Kitāb al-lumaʻ, 212. Cf. al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 407 and Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 464. 31 Qurʼān 76:31. 132  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 32 Cited by Reinert, “Abharī, Abū Bakr.” 33 Al-Muṭahhar ibn Ṭāhir al-Maqdisī, Kitāb al-badʾ wa-al-taʾrīkh (Cairo: Maktaba al-Saqāf al-Dīnī, n.d.), vol. 5, 144-45. Also, see Saeidi, “Yaḥyā Ibn Muʻādh Al-Rāzī,” 48-9. 34 Cited by Reinert, “Abharī, Abū Bakr.” 35 Mu ̒īn al-Dīn Junayd al-Shīrāzī, Shad al-Ezār fī Khaṭ al-Awzār ̒an Zawāe al-Mazār, ed. Muḥammad Qazwīnī and Muhammad Eqbal (Tehran: Matba’eh-e Majles, 1328 [1949]), 557. 36 Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 149-50; Farīd al-Dīn ‘Aṭṭār, Tadhkirat al-Awliyā, ed. Muhammad Este’lami (Tehran: Zawwār Publication, 2012), 694. 37 Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 236. 38 al-Sīrjanī, Sufism, 300 and 313; Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 617; ‘Aṭṭār, Tadhkirat, 692-93. 39 Anṣārī, Ṭabaqāt, 361, 580 and 617; Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 149. 40 Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 150-51. 41 Dawlatshāh Samarqandī, Tadhkirat al-Shuʻarā’, ed. Edwar Browne (Tehran: Enteshārāt-e Asāṭīr, 1382 [2003]), 99. 42 Abū al-Ḥasan al-Daylamī, Sīrat Sheikh Kabīr Abū ʻAbdūllāh Ibn Khafīf Shīrāzī, ed. Annemarie Schimmel, tr. Rukn al-Dīn Yaḥyā ibn Junayd Shīrazī (Tehran: Bābak, 1363 [1984]), 167. 43 al-Daylamī, Sīrat Sheikh Kabīr, 167-8; Jāmī, Nafaḥāt, 255. 44 Aḥmad ibn Alī al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī, Ta’rīkh Madīnat al-Salām (Ta’rīkh Baghdād), ed. Bashar ʾAwad Maʿruf (Beirut: Dar Al-Gharb al-Eslami, 2001), vol. 9, 307. 45 Shams al-Dīn al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh al-islām wa-wafayāt al-mashāhīr wa-al-aʿlām, ed. Umar Tadmurī (Beirut: Dār al-Kitāb al-‘Arabī, 1987–2004), vol. 27, 133-35; al- Dhahabī, Sayr, vol. 16, 469. 46 Karāmāt Sheikh Abī ʻAlī al-Qūmsānī was edited by Shafi’i-Kadkani published with the title Maqāmāt-e Abū ‘Alī Qumsānī, see Ibn Zīrak, “Maqāmāt-e Abū ‘Alī Qumsānī,” in Arj Nameh-e Doktor Mohammad Ali Movahed, ed. Mohammad Reza Shafi’i-Kadkani, 657-83 (Tabriz: Setudeh, 2014). 47 Al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh, vol. 32, 60-63; al-Dhahabī, Sayr A‘lām, vol. 18, 433-35. 48 Karāmāt Sheikh Abī ʻAlī al-Qūmsānī, 677-78. 49 Ibid., 666. 50 Ibid., 678. 51 Ibid., 671 52 Al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh, vol. 29, 298; al-Khatīb al-Baghdādī, Ṭāʾrīkh Baghdād, vol. 3, 711-12; al-Dhahabī, Siyar, vol. 17, 563-4. 53 Abū Ṭāhir Silafī, al-Wajīz fī dhikr al-majāz wa al-majīz (Beirut: Dar al-Gharb al-Is- lami, 1991), 154. S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  133 54 Al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh, vol. 33, 333. 55 Bābā Jaʻfar, one of al-Qumsānī’s students, directly narrated several stories about him, see Karāmāt Sheikh Abī ʻAlī al-Qūmsānī, 672-76. 56 Al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh, vol. 29, 215-17. 57 Al-Dhahabī, Siyar, vol. 17, 576-77. 58 ʻAbd al-Karīm ibn Muḥammad Rāfiʻī al-Qazwīnī, al-Tadwīn fī akhbār Qazwīn, ed. ʻAzīz Allah ʻAṭārudī Quchānī (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʻIlmiyya, 1987), vol. 2, 379. 59 Muḥammad b. ʿAlī al-Rāwandī, Rāḥat al-ṣudūr wa-āyat al-surūr, ed. Muhammad Eqbal (Tehran: Asatir, 2006), 98-9; Safi has translated Ibn al-Rāwandī’s text, see Omid Safi, The Politics of Knowledge in Premodern Islam: Negotiating Ideology and Religious Inquiry (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006), 132-33. 60 Ḥasan ibn Muḥammad ibn Ḥusayn Nīshābūrī, Tafsīr gharāʼib al-qurʼān wa-raghāʼib al-furqān, ed. Zakariya ‘Umayrat (Beirut: Dār al-Kutub al-ʻIlmiyya, 1996), vol. 3, 244. 61 ʻAbd al-Karīm Ibn Muḥammad al-Samʻānī, Kitāb al-Ansāb, ed. ʻAbd Allāh ʻUmar Bārūdī (Beirut: Dār al-Jinān, 1988), vol. 1, 427. 62 Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī, Ādāb al-fuqaraʼ (Istanbul: Muhammad Ali Pasha library, Manuscript no. 1395), fol. 1. 63 ʻAlī ibn ‘Uthmān al-Hujwīrī, Kashf al-mahjūb, ed. Mahmud ̒Ābedī (Tehran: Soroush Publication. 2014), 278-96. 64 Mojtaba Damavandi, “Bābā Jafar Abharī and Ādāb al-fuqaraʼ,” The Journal of Mystical Literature 2 (2010), 114. 65 Bābā Jaʻfar Abharī, Ādāb al-fuqaraʼ, fol. 20. 66 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 425-24. 67 Abū Naṣr al-Sarrāj, Ṣuḥuf min kitāb al-lumaʻ, ed. A. J. Arberry (London, 1947), 10-12. 68 Ibid., 11. 69 Al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 424. 70 Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī, Ādāb al-fuqaraʼ, fol. 14. 71 Ibid., fol. 16. 72 Ibid., fol. 84. 73 Ibid., fol. 89. 74 Bābā Jaʻfar al-Abharī, Riyāḍat al-nafs (Qom: Golpaygani Library, Manuscript no. 707-4/107). 75 Rāfiʻī al-Qazwīnī, al-Tadwīn, vol. 2, 158, 165, 228, 351, 393, and 489. 76 Al-Dhahabī, Tārīkh, vol. 32, 74; Rāfiʻī al-Qazwīnī, al-Tadwīn, vol. 1, 269-70.; Yaqūt al-Ḥamawī, Muʿjam al-buldān (Beirut: Dār ṣādir, 1977), vol. 4, 280. 77 al-Sulamī, Ṭabaqāt, 423-26. 134  A M E R i C A N J O U R N A L O F i S L A M A N d S O C i E t Y 4 0 : 3 - 4 78 Abu JaʻFar ibn Yazdānyār al-Hamadhānī, Rawḍat al-murīdīn (Manuscript, Thomas Fisher Arabic Collection, University of Toronto), fols, 3b and 54a (hereafter, R-T); idem., Rawḍat al-murīdīn (Princeton: Manuscript in The Garrett Collection of Princeton University), fols. 4b, 43b, and 56a (hearafter, R-P). 79 Alden John Williams, Rawḍat al-Murīdīn of Shaykh Abū Jaʿfar Ibn Yazdānyār (Unpublished PhD thesis, Princeton University, 1957), iv-v. 80 Ibid. 81 43 sections in R-P and 39 sections in R-T. To compare five manuscripts of Rawḍat al-murīdīn, see Williams, Rawḍat al-murīdīn, xliii-xliv. 82 Arin Salamah-Qudsi, “Abū JaʻFar Ibn Yazdānyār’s Rawḍat al-Murīdīn: an Unknown Sufi Manual of the Fifth/Eleventh Century,” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (2020), 6. 83 Ibid., 20. 84 R-P, fol. 57b; R-T, fol. 80. 85 Husayn ibn Mansur Hallaj, Hallaj: Poems of a Sufi Martyr, tr. Carl W. Ernst (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 2018), poem 107. 86 R-P, fol. 19a; R-T, fol. 37. 87 R-P, fol. 18b; R-T, fols. 35-36. For English translation, see Salamah-Qudsi, “Abū JaʻFar Ibn Yazdānyār,” 8-9. 88 Maʿmar Abū Manṣūr al-Iṣfahānī, “Nahj al-Khāṣṣ,” ed. Nasrollah Pourjavady, aḥqīqāt-i Islāmī 5-6 (1987-8): 132-149 89 R-P, fols. 60a-60b; R-T, fol. 86. Salamah-Qudsi, “Abū JaʻFar Ibn Yazdānyār,” 18. 90 R-P, fol. 59a, R-T, fols. 83-84. 91 Maʿmar Abū Manṣūr al-Iṣfahānī, Adab al-mulūk: Ein Handbuch zur islamischen Mystik aus dem 4. /10. Jahrhundert, ed. Bernd Radtke (Beirut: Orient-Institut der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft im Kommission bei F. Steiner Verlag Stuttgart, 1991), bāb 27, 65-68. 92 R-P, fols. 47a-49b; P-T, fols. 60-66. 93 Salamah-Qudsi, “Abū JaʻFar Ibn Yazdānyār,” 14. 94 It is likely that Salamah-Qudsi was not acquainted with Ādāb al-fuqarāʼ, as she presents the viewpoint that this story is exclusive to Rawḍat al-murīdīn and states that it “does not appear in any other work,” see Ibid., 13. 95 R-P, fols. 48a-49-5; R-T, fols. 61-62. 96 R-P, fol. 56a. However, in the Toronto manuscript, the reference is made to Abū Bakr al-Abharī, another Sufi from Jibāl, rather than Ibn Yazdānyār, see R-T, fol. 78. 97 Abū Tālib Makkī, ‘Ilm al-qulūb, ed. ʿ Abd al-Qādir Aḥmad ʿ Aṭā. (Beirut: Dar al-Kotob al-Ilmiyah, 2004), 89. 98 Qurʼān 7:172. S A E i d i : t H E E A R LY S U F i t R A d i t i O N i N H A M A d Ā N, N A H ĀWA N d, & A BH A R  135 99 R-P, fols. 47a-47b and R-T, fols. 61a-61b. 100 R-P, fol. 67a. R-T, fol. 104. 101 Salamah-Qudsi, “Abū JaʻFar Ibn Yazdānyār,” 18-19. 102 Saeidi, “Yaḥyā Ibn Muʻādh Al-Rāzī,” 54-55.