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B oundaries The Interpretation of Dreams in Islamic Lands
I OUI S E MARL OW,
I lex F oundation S eries 1
DREAMING ACROSS BOUNDARIES
Ilex Foundation Series
DREAMING ACROSS BOUNDARIES: THE INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS IN ISLAMIC LANDS
edited by
Louise Marlow
Ilex Foundation Boston, Massachusetts and Center for Hellenic Studies Trustees for Harvard University Washington, D. C. Distributed by Harvard University Press Cambridge, Massachusetts, and London, England 2008
Dreaming across Boundaries: The Interpretation of Dreams in Islamic Lands edited by Louise Marlow Copyright © 2008 Ilex Foundation All Rights Reserved Published by Ilex Foundation, Boston, Massachusetts and the Center for Hellenic Studies, Trustees for Harvard University, Washington, D.C. Distributed by Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, England Production: Christopher Dadian Cover design: Joni Godlove Printed in the United States of America by Edwards Brothers, Inc.
ISBN (cloth): 978-0-674-02813-5 ISBN (paperback): 978-0-674-02122-8 Library of Congress Control Number: 2008925852
Contents Foreword by Richard W. Bulliet.................................................................vii Acknowledgments.........................................................................................ix Note on Transliteration ............................................................................. xi Abbreviations ............................................................................................ xiii Louise Marlow Introduction .................................................................................................. 1 Leah Kinberg Qur an and Hadlth: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives ........................................................25 Rotraud E. Hansberger How Aristotle Came to Believe in God-given Dreams: The Arabic Version of De divinatione per somnum................................50 John C. Lamoreaux An Early Muslim Autobiographical Dream Narrative: Abu Jafar al-Qayinl and His Dream of the Prophet Muhammad.......................78 Hagar Kahana-Smilansky Self-Reflection and Conversion in Medieval Muslim Autobiographical Dreams...................................... 99 Olga M. Davidson The Dream as a Narrative Device in the Shahnama............................. 131 Eric Ormsby The Poor Man's Prophecy: Al-Ghazall on Dreams............................. 142 Mohammad J. Mahallati The Significance of Dreams and Dream Interpretation in the Qur an: Two Sufi Commentaries on Surat Y usuf................153 Khalid Sindawi The Image of ‘All b. Abl Talib in the Dreams of Visitors to His Tomb...........................................179
Contents
Yehoshua Frenkel Dream Accounts in the Chronicles of the Mamluk Period................202 Sholeh A. Quinn The Dreams of Shaykh Safi al-DIn in Late Safavid Chronicles..........221 Serpil Ba$ci Images for Foretelling: Two Topkapi Fälnämas................................... 235 Jonathan G. Katz Dreams in the Manäqib of a Moroccan Sufi Shaykh: ‘Abd al-'AzIz al-Dabbagh (d. 1131/1719)................................................................ 270 Contributors............................................................................................. 285 Index of Subjects and Terms.................................................................. 291 Index of Names, Places, and Works.......................................................297
Foreword is surely the ideal way to inaugurate this new publication series, for the series is a dream come true. In its mission statement, the Ilex Foundation identifies itself as promoting “the study of humanistic traditions that derive from the civilizations of the Mediterranean and the Near East, from the second millennium BCE to the present,” and dedicates itself “to the active dissemination of the research it promotes.” In pursuit of the first of these goals, Ilex has convened numerous symposia and conference panels on a wide variety of themes. These events have invariably been innovative in conception and enthusi astically received by those fortunate enough to attend. However, the second goal of seeing the fruits of such scholarship into print has been harder to achieve. . . until now. In tandem with Harvard University Press, the Foundation antici pates an active publishing program that will bring its research perspec tives to a wider scholarly community. In a period when many university presses have been drawing back from publishing new scholarship in fields they deem to have limited audiences, this new partnership is particularly welcome. The Ilex Foundation and Harvard University Press are to be congratulated for entering into a partnership that will both illuminate the great traditions of the Near East and challenge scholars with new and provocative ideas. v o lu m e o n d re a m s
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Richard W. Bulliet Columbia University
Acknowledgments to acknowledge with thanks the several persons who have assisted in the preparation of this volume. First of all, I am deeply grateful to my colleagues on the Editorial Committee of the Ilex Foundation: to Olga M. Davidson, Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Ilex Foundation, and Gregory Nagy, Trustee, for their inspirational leadership and wise counsel; to Niloo Fotouhi, Executive Director of the Ilex Foundation, for her efficient management of the volume’s evolution from conception to completion; and to Christopher Dadian, to whose technical expertise, fine aesthetic sensibilities, and meticulous attention to detail we owe the production of the book, and whose patience and good humour in negotiating materials in multiple languages and scripts have been especially appreciated. I owe a partic ular debt of gratitude to Mohsen Ashtiany, who in 2003 convened a panel devoted to dreams and dream interpretation in Islamicate contexts at the annual conference of the Middle East Studies Association held in Anchorage, Alaska, at which five of the articles included in this volume were first presented.1 It was Mohsen who first conceived of the collec tion, invited the contributors to write for it, and began the editorial work involved in the project. I should like to thank Dianne Baroz of Wellesley College for her superb administrative assistance, and Richard Bulliet, who kindly contributed the Foreword. The Editor and the Ilex Foundation also wish to express their gratitude to Harvard University Press and particularly to Sara Davis, who graciously accepted the volume as the first publication in the Ilex Foundation Series. Thanks are also due to the Russian Academy of Sciences for granting permis sion to reproduce passages from the BerteFs edition of the Shahndma published in Moscow, 1960-71, and to the Topkapi Palace Museum for kind permission to reproduce the images that accompany the article of Serpil Bagci. Finally, I am deeply grateful to the contributors to the volume for their patience throughout the lengthy process of publica tion, and to my family for their kindness and support, good counsel t
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is a g r e a t p l e a s u r e
1. The five articles that were initially presented in Alaska were those of Serpil Bagci, Olga M. Davidson, Jonathan G. Katz, John C. Lamoreaux, and Eric Ormsby.
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Acknowledgments
and forbearance during the many months that I have been preoccupied with the dream world. L. Marlow General Editor Ilex Foundation
Note on Transliteration will notice that the transliteration system used in the volume is not entirely consistent from one article to another. In general, slightly different systems have been used for transliterating Arabic and Persian, and Turkish has been written in accordance with modem Turkish orthography. In the case of common names and terms in common use, I have generally opted for anglicized forms and for simplicity. At the same time, it seemed appropriate to respect the choices made by the authors of the articles themselves, and as a result, some variations from one article to another remain. It is hoped that such minor discrepancies will not compromise the clarity of the whole and that readers will not find them excessively irritating. he a tte n tiv e re a d er
T
Abbreviations BSOAS
Bulletin o f the School o f Oriental and African Studies
EF
The Encyclopaedia ofIslamt New Edition, Leiden, E. J. Brill, 19542000, and Supplements.
Elr
Encylopaedia Iranica, ed. E. Yarshater, New York, 1985-.
EQ
Encyclopaedia o f the Quran, ed. J. D. McAuliffe, 6 vols., Leiden, Brill, 2001-06.
GAL
C. Brockelmann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, 3 vols., 2 supplements, Leiden, E. J. Brill, 1937-42,1943-49.
GAS
F. Sezgin, Geschichte des arabischen Schrifttums, 9 vols., Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1967-84.
IC
Islamic Culture
IOS
Israel Oriental Studies
JNES
Journal o f Near Eastern Studies
JRAS
Journal o f the Royal Asiatic Society
JSAI
Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam
MW
The Muslim World
SI
Studia Islamica
ZDMG
Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft
Introduction L ouise M arlow
to a peripheral space in the public discourse of the contemporary societies of Europe and North America.1 The psychological and psychoanalytic systems of interpretation formulated in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries assigned largely personal and idiosyncratic meanings to dreams; more recent research in a variety of fields has challenged such psychological approaches, in some cases by drawing attention to their highly culturally specific nature, in others by focusing on physiological factors, thereby reducing the already diminished significance assigned to dreams still further.2 In common parlance, the dream, like “myth,” has acquired the primary connotation of unreality.3 An anxiety-laden dream is likely to be dismissed with relief as “just a dream,” and a wishfulfilling dream (or day-dream) disregarded as a utopian imagining. Underlying such dismissals of dreams is an assumption that waking experience, unlike dreaming, is real, solid and objectively verifiable. This marginalization of dreams, however, stands in stark contrast to the continuing importance attached to dreams in some other cultural settings, and especially to attitudes that were prevalent among many pre-modem societies, including those of Europe itself.4 Several earlier societies produced well-documented discourses that were founded on assumptions very different from those that underlie the widespread perceptions of the present day. The twelve articles collected in the current volume portray a range of historical environments, from the eighth to the eighteenth centuries, in which dreams were of critical cultural importance, not only as the private experiences of the indi vidual dreamer but also as public events of significance for the larger community in which the dreamer participated. re a m s h av e been r e le g a te d
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1 .1 am grateful to Mohsen Ashtiany for his helpful comments on an earlier draft of this introduction. 2. For further discussion of these topics, see Kruger 1992,1-6 and Price 1986. 3. On the relationships of myth and dream, see Kluckhohn 1942; Dodds 1951; O’Flaherty 1984. 4. See Kruger 1992.
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The importance of dreams in Islamicate contexts, in both personal and broader social terms, has long been recognized.5 Following the approach associated with the work of David Shulman and Guy G. Stroumsa in particular, the present volume presupposes that narra tive accounts and interpretations of dreams are cultural products, conditioned by the complex environments in which they are created and “expressive of culturally specific themes, patterns, tensions, and meanings.”6 As already implied, the twelve essays that comprise this collection reflect an array of historical settings, including ninth-cen tury Baghdad, eleventh-century Khurasan, fourteenth-century Cairo, sixteenth-century Istanbul and eighteenth-century Morocco. Alongside the shaping forces of these historically specific contexts, cultural orien tations, intellectual disciplines and literary genres also contributed to understandings and representations of dreams. Each historical and cultural setting forms the locus of what Shulman and Stroumsa have usefully described as a “dream culture.” A further assumption under lying the present collection is that the relationship between dreams and cultures is a reciprocal one: as Carol Rupprecht has indicated, not only are dreams moulded by the psychological, social, epistemological and religious assumptions implicit in a culture; they also contribute to the shaping of cultures.7 This introduction will address certain features that recur, explic itly or implicitly, across several of the dream cultures explored in the volume, and will suggest the ways in which these common elements were appropriated and adapted in accordance with the particularities of diverse historical, cultural and literary settings. It will make brief mention of certain issues and problems that pertain to the literary representation of dreams. Finally, in order to indicate the specific qualities, functions and purposes of the accounts and interpretations of dreams presented in each article, it will provide brief summaries of each contribution, with attention to the ways in which verbalized dreams both refracted and influenced culture in particular situations. 5. Notable works of scholarship devoted to dreams in Islamicate contexts include von Grunebaum and Caillois 1966; Fahd 1959,1966; Katz 1996, especially 205-30; Kinberg 1985, 1993,1994,1999; Schimmel 1998; Shulman and Stroumsa 1999; Reynolds 2001, 88-93, 2005; Lamoreaux 2002; and Lory 2003. With the exception of Schimmel’s wide-ranging treatment of the dream literatures produced in predominantly Muslim societies in Arabic, Persian, Turkish and Urdu, into the contemporary period, most of the more recent publications in this list have concentrated on the Arabic literature of dreams and dreaming. The present volume brings together writings drawn from the Arabic, Persian and Turkish literary repertoires. 6. Shulman and Stroumsa 1999,3; see also Rupprecht 1993,3. 7. Rupprecht 1993,3.
Introduction
Discourses of Dreaming and the Particularities of Dream Cultures in Islamicate Settings For the societies of late antiquity, the interpretation of dreams consti tuted, in Patricia Cox Miller’s language, “a method...for an articulate construction of meaning.”8 In Islamicate contexts, as the articles in the present volume indicate, the interpretation of dreams likewise func tioned as a vehicle or mode for the production of meaning.9In his recent study of the formation of a “theology of dreams” expressed in Arabic in the early centuries of the Islamic era, John C. Lamoreaux has noted a certain homogeneity with regard to the purposes, theological assump tions and methods of dream interpretation, to the point that a given symbol, such as a frog, was interpreted in broadly similar ways in the eighth century and the eleventh, and in regional settings as far apart as North Africa and Iran.10 Such observations suggest a dominant, if not entirely uncontested, tradition of interpretation that left its traces in a long trajectory of written sources. It was a tradition, however, that despite such continuities was far from static.11 On the contrary, while it retained the capacity to facilitate an articulate construction of meaning, it was reformulated continually, both in textual contexts and in its prac tical applications. If in the early centuries, it was principally special ists in hadith and religious scholars who concerned themselves with the study of dreams, by the tenth century, philosophers, mystics and men of letters had equally taken up the topic. As a result, in Islamicate contexts, the discourse of dreaming found expression according to several distinctive variants, shaped by different intellectual disciplines and cultural orientations.12 The dream cultures addressed in the following articles illustrate various phases and aspects in the evolution of this discourse, and its manifestations and applications in different contexts. Certain consis tent assumptions underlie the theoretical discussions of dreaming, narratives of dreams, and the reception and interpretation of reported 8. Miller 1994,10. 9. The term “Islamicate,” coined by M. G. S. Hodgson, is adopted here to denote distinctive cultural environments, discourses and traditions in which non-Muslims as well as Muslims participated; again following Hodgson, the term “Islamic” is reserved for more specifically and directly religious phenomena (Hodgson 1974,1:45-48,57-60). 10. Lamoreaux 2002,79-105. 11. Cf. Price 1986. 12. In Lamoreaux’s formulation, by the end of the tenth century a relatively homogeneous tradition had “fractured” into a plurality of “competing legacies, each seeking to ground dream interpretation on distinct epistemic foundations, each associated with a distinct cultural orientation” (Lamoreaux 2002,45, and see 45-77).
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dreams in diverse times and places. A foundational assumption, in the contexts studied in this volume as in many pre-modern cultural settings, was that dreams constituted a potential means for the communication of truth. At the intersection of the physiological and the metaphysical realms, dreams occurred between states of wakeful consciousness and dreamless sleep. By their very in-between-ness, they were associated with possibilities unavailable in wakefulness: possibilities of insight into an unseen world, of contact with those beyond the grave, of visions of the afterlife, of communications from forces and beings invested with supreme, transformative wisdom and truth. They served as authorita tive sources of information and instruction regarding quotidian affairs, and sometimes delivered premonitions of future events. For purposes of divination, dreams could function as indications or omens.13 Dreams that were considered “true,” or veridical, were often portrayed as préfigurations of what was to come, whether in this world or the next. Typologies of dreams, elaborated by theorists of dreams in the early centuries, were invoked in several of the dream cultures explored in this collection. The particularities of local cultural environments conditioned the understandings and applications of these typolo gies. Theorists of dreams produced classifications according to the degree and kind of authority associated with each type of dream. Thus some dreams were held to be of divine origin, others to have derived from Satan’s interventions. Some were veridical, others muddled and useless. Some dreams (“literal” dreams) were transparent in meaning, their interpretation entirely straightforward; others were “enigmatic,” in that they employed complex symbolism and required skilled inter pretation.14 Widely attested in treatises related to dreaming as well as in a variety of local contexts were dream visions of the Prophet, which, as several Prophetic hadith averred, could only be veridical. In a conjoining of dreams and prophecy shared among several cultures and communities, true dreams, according to a Prophetic hadith, consti tuted a form of prophecy.15 In specific instances, as Leah Kinberg has 13. Schimmel 1998,16,40-41; Lamoreaux 2002,80-81; Fahd 1978; Omidsalar 1996. For the divinatory and predictive functions of dreams in ancient Greece, see Dodds 1951,102-34; in late antiquity, see Miller 1994,8 and passim; in the Middle Ages, see Kruger 1992; and in early modem Spain, see Kagan 1990. 14. Lamoreaux 2002, 81-88. For classifications of dreams in the Oneirocritica of Artemidorus, whose manual was “translated” from Greek into Arabic by Hunayn b. Ishâq (d. 264/877) and circulated widely, see Fahd 1964, 7ff; Dodds 1951,107; Miller 1994, 77-91; and Lamoreaux 2002, 8-9, 47-51. On the categories of “symbolic” and “literal” dreams, see also Kinberg 1993; Kinberg 1994,26-28,33-48; Reynolds 2001,89-90. 15. See Kinberg 1994, 35-36; Schimmel 1998, 17-20, 30, 230-59, 271; Lamoreaux 2002, 116-20. Cf. Hasan-Rokem 1999,222, and Sviri 1999,252; see also Stroumsa 1999,194-96.
Introduction
demonstrated,dream visions of the Prophet supplemented and not infrequently commented on Prophetic hadith; furthermore, just as Prophetic hadith established the veracity of Prophetic dreams, dreams could affirm or reject the authenticity of hadith.16 Especially among Shi'ite Muslims, high degrees of authority were similarly asso ciated with dreams in which the Imam ‘All, or members of his family, appeared.17 For many Sufis, the appearance of a shaykh after his death provided definitive authority.18 More generally, dreams of deceased persons, whether or not they were regarded as spiritual guides during their lifetimes, were frequently reported and often considered authori tative as well. Such reports assumed that the dead could continue to communicate with the living through dreams, could inform or warn them of conditions in the afterlife, and could advise or instruct them to act in certain ways while they were still in a position to do so.19 These recurrent features contributed in various ways to the shaping of the social and cultural environments that constituted local ized dream cultures. The authoritative status attached to veridical dreams could enhance the social standing and cultural capital of either the dreamer, or the (often deceased) figure who announced or indi cated future events in the dream, or the living person whose destiny the dream was held to predict.20In one illustration of the ways in which dreams not only reflected but also shaped cultures, predictive dreams appeared frequently in contexts that established the legitimacy of ruling dynasties, or the spiritual greatness of mystical organizations.21 Yet if dreams, especially predictive dreams, provided mechanisms for enhancing social status or consolidating the foundations of legit imacy, they could equally well serve as vehicles for the expression of more marginal and even subversive perspectives, whether philosoph ical, theological, legal, social, cultural or political.22 The form of the 16. See further Kinberg 1991,1993,1999, and her article in the present volume. 17. On the appearance of the Prophet’s descendants and relatives, especially 'All, in dreams, see Schimmel 1998,259, and the article of Sindawi in the current volume. 18. On communication with deceased saints through dreams, see Taylor 1999,154-67. 19. See further Kinberg 1994,18-22; Reynolds 2001, 89; Schimmel 1998, 206-13, 219-28. For important Graeco-Roman parallels, see Miller 1994,22. 20. The role of dream narrations in claiming or strengthening the status of individuals, or of specific rulings, emerges strongly from the sequence of articles by Kinberg, mentioned above, n. 5; see further Reynolds 2005,269. 21. See especially the articles of Davidson, Quinn and Frenkel in the present volume. 22. For examples see Schimmel 1998, 270-97, and the examples studied by Kinberg, Lamoreaux and Kahana-Smilansky in this volume. See further the discussion of Lamoreaux 2002,107-34, and Shulman and Stroumsa 1999,5. For a study of political dreams in the ninthcentury Latin West, see Dutton 1994; and for the political dimensions of the dreams of an early modem Spanish woman, see Kagan 1990.
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dream served to distance the dreamer-reporter from its content, and provided a means for articulating an oblique mode of commentary or criticism.23 In noting the facilitating role of dreams in broaching diffi cult or controversial subjects, the authors of the recent study of Arabic autobiographical writings Interpreting the Self have written that Arabic dream-accounts “function as the displaced authority of the authorial T : what the author cannot say on his own authority, he can support with testimony from an outside source through the narration of a dream or vision.”24 Dreams made possible the articulation of otherwise problematic ideas not only by means of the displacement of authority, but also by virtue of their liminality itself. As Miller has written with reference to classical and late-antique traditions, “the dream is the site where apparently unquestioned, and unquestionable, realities like life and death meet, qualify each other, even change places.”25 At least in principle, the Islamicate discourse identified by Lamoreaux assumed that dreams constituted a potential channel for communication with a hidden, immaterial realm, and hence a direct source of truth, for almost everybody.26 Furthermore, people were in a position to exercise some control over their dreams: if they followed precise instructions, individuals could ensure that a given personage would visit them in their dreams, or that a dream would provide reso lution to a given problem.27 The widespread affirmation of the general availability of truthful insight through dreams coincided, as several of the articles contained in this volume demonstrate, with an interest in dreams and their interpretation that was shared among, and brought together, a wide range of social groups at varying economic levels in many local environments. Collectively, the contributions to the present volume thus suggest more nuanced understandings of cultural meaning than overly deter mined divisions into “high” and “low” levels of culture are able to 23. See further the article of Ormsby in this volume. 24. Reynolds 2001,93; see also Schimmel 1998,16, and the contributions of Kinberg and Katz to this volume. 25. Miller 1994,5. 26. While several of the writers studied by Lamoreaux considered such factors as gender and professional status to be immaterial to the individual’s qualifications to receive divinely sent dreams, they acknowledged that various circumstances and types of behaviour could enhance or diminish an individual’s receptivity to such messages; see Lamoreaux 2002, 35, 83. Other authors of dream manuals emphasized the view that some social groups were more likely to experience true dreams than others; see Reynolds 2005,265. 27. See further Ziai 1996, and the contributions of Mahallati, Sindawi and Frenkel to the present volume. For methods of provoking “divine” dreams, see further Dodds 1951,110-12.
Introduction
convey.28Yet if, for several authors of dream manuals, the possibility of experiencing a veridical dream was available to everyone, the ability to understand and decode dreams, in many pre-modern dream cultures, was not. Many of the theories of dreams encountered in the following pages held that the meanings of “symbolic” dreams lay beyond the comprehension of most dreamers, who were obliged to consult quali fied interpreters. This disparity between dreamer and interpreter should not be taken to suggest that the individual was insignificant to the process of interpretation; for many interpreters, it was self-evident that the meaning of a dream could only be understood in relation to the state and circumstances of the dreamer. But like other symbolic systems, dreams yielded multiple levels of meaning, and the ability to interpret them fully implied access to a kind of esoteric knowledge. In several of the dream cultures explored in this volume, the highest levels of insight into the meaning of dreams were reserved for persons of extraordinary spiritual stature. These persons also lent irrefutable authority to dream visions when they appeared in them: prophets, especially the Prophet Muhammad, and Yusuf, the Joseph of the Hebrew Bible, revered in the Quran and in Islamic tradition, as in Jewish and Christian traditions, for his rare capacity to interpret dreams; the Imams, members of the Prophet’s family especially revered by Shfite Muslims; and the shaykhs or spiritual teachers of the Sufis. Through their connection with the unseen world, the prophets, imams and shaykhs were capable of under standing dreams at a level of profundity that eluded ordinary persons. On another plane and to a lesser degree, the meaning of dreams was accessible to individuals who had received special instruction in the art of oneiromancy.29 In specific contexts, many persons appear to have shared in the expectation that any individual was potentially eligible to receive some portion of wisdom in his or her dreams; but at the same time, many acknowledged that the capacity to comprehend such messages was restricted to higher-ranking stations in a spiritual hierarchy, so that a gulf between ordinary dreamers and adept interpreters was reaffirmed. As will be seen, the dream cultures studied in the current volume provide specific examples of ways in which the levelling and potentially 28. Cf. Katz 1996,16-22. For parallels in the late-antique context, see Miller 1994,12,78; and in the Middle Ages, see Kruger 1992,14-16. On the inadequacy of the categories of “high” and “low” for an appreciation of Ottoman autobiographical writings, including accounts of dreams, see Kafadar 1989. 29. On the composition of works of tabir as reflective of a move towards the “democratization” of dream interpretation, see Fahd 1966,316.
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subversive effects of dreams were countered by their integration into hierarchical or normative systems.30 It was largely on account of the authority with which certain kinds of dreams were invested that dreamers and dream interpreters were potentially well situated to shape the cultural environments in which they lived. As media for imparting extraordinary knowledge, dreams, in the contexts explored in this collection as in many pre-modern cultural settings, potentially carried significant authority in an arena that was not limited to the immediate circumstances of the dreamer but extended well beyond his or her person into the larger cultural world. As Leah Kinberg has shown for the first three centuries of the Islamic era, and as Jonathan Berkey has shown for the Islamic Middle Periods, in many parts of West Asia and North Africa, dreams played a significant role in struggles for religious authority among individuals and groups.31 From the preceding discussion it will be apparent that this discourse of dreaming, which left discernible traces in the dream cultures presented in this volume, is not, in many respects, exclusively Islamic. Certainly, Islam played a major role in shaping the expres sion of ideas and motifs that formed part of the dream literatures of Muslim-majority societies; and the celebrated North African historian Ibn Khaldun (d. 808/1406), among other Muslim scholars, considered the interpretation of dreams to be a branch of the Islamic religious sciences.32 But many aspects of this Islamicate discourse, have anteced ents or analogues in other dream cultures, with which in some cases they evolved in historical contact.33 Non-Muslim writers in Arabic and other languages, including Hebrew, contributed significantly to the dream cultures that grew and flourished in many pre-modem Muslimmajority societies or societies under the governance of Muslim rulers. Thus, as Lamoreaux has demonstrated, dream interpretation consti tuted not an Islamic but an Islamicate discourse, that is, one to which Muslims and non-Muslims contributed in a deeply intertextual enter prise. Arabic adaptations of works by Aristotle and Artemidorus indi cate a degree of interest among Muslims in West Asia and North Africa in the early centuries in the traditions of the communities among 30. See especially the contributions of Katz and Frenkel. 31. Kinberg 1993,1993, and in this volume; Berkey 2001, 80-87; Katz 1996, and see also his contribution below. 32. Reynolds has drawn attention to the deep prophetic and scriptural roots of dream interpretation among early and medieval Muslim writers (2005,263); see also the contribution of Mahallati to the present volume. 33. For examples, see Sviri 1999, Lamoreaux 2002.
Introduction
whom they lived, and non-Muslims drew at least equally heavily on the burgeoning literature produced by Muslim authors.34
The Literary Representation of Dreams: Authorship, Genre and Function Of particular importance in considerations of dreams and dream inter pretation are a number of questions that arise from the literary repre sentation of dreams, that is, the complex process of translation whereby a personal visionary experience assumes the form of a literary, narra tive account accessible to, and subject to interpretation by, an audience. The vision beheld by the dreamer is transformed into his or her narra tive of the experience in words, and that narrative in turn is transposed in the process of its interpretation. These translations raise a number of questions regarding boundaries and relationships: between dreamer and interpreter, author and audience, visual and verbal forms, private and public spheres. Some of the following articles explore the psycho logical aspects of dreaming, the mental or spiritual faculties involved in dreaming, the external or internal provenance of dreams, the nature of consciousness and ‘4seeing’, in dreaming, and the conception, role and boundaries of the self, the dreaming subject.35 Several other articles focus less on the nature and processes of dreaming than on reports of dreams, which abound in a variety of writings and genres where they are often primarily related to matters other than dreaming itself.36 Many of these narratives of dreams presuppose a dreaming subject indistinguishable from his or her wakeful counterpart. Figures who appear in dreams are often (but not always) readily identifiable to the dreamer and (if there is one) the dream interpreter as well. Such dreams not infrequently serve as the occasion for a transformation in the life, conduct or conviction of the dreamer, who may experience a “conver sion” or be moved to repentance and reform.37 Some dream narratives 34. See further Lamoreaux 2002, 7,135-74; Fahd 1966; Hourani 1991,205; and the article of Hansberger in the present volume. For a prominent example and detailed discussion of the phenomenon, see Mavroudi 2002. 35. See especially the articles by Hansberger, Kahana-Smilansky and Ormsby. For parallels in late-antique theories of dreaming, see Miller 1994,39-73. 36. See, for instance, Kinberg 1994, where the author points out the overwhelmingly edificatory function of the numerous dream narratives in the well-known works of Ibn Abl al-Dunya. Elsewhere, Kinberg has emphasized the legitimating functions of many dream narratives (Kinberg 1985). 37. On this theme see Schimmel 1998, 119-24; Shulman and Stroumsa 1999, 235-87; Reynolds 2001, 91-92 and passim; Reynolds 2005, 262, 272-74; and the article of KahanaSmilansky in this volume.
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depict the phenomenon of “lucid dreaming,” in which the dreamer is aware that he or she is dreaming. As Shulman and Stroumsa have indi cated, such narratives assume the form of a series of frames, and suggest a paradoxical kind of knowing.38 In the example of lucid dreaming described in the article of Lamoreaux in this volume, the dreamer, in the course of his dream, explicitly informs his Prophetic interlocutor, and his larger audience, that he is dreaming, and establishes firmly that the knowledge conveyed to him through his visionary experience reaches him in this dreaming state. The reader is thus faced with an account by an author, who is known only from this self-depiction, of the author’s dream, in the course of which he engaged in a conversa tion about the nature and authority of dream visions. The dream is contained in a clearly indicated frame that allows the dreamer—and reader—to participate in the dialogue that is taking place within the dream-frame and at the same time to observe it from the perspective of full consciousness.39 Related to such considerations of the nature of the dreaming self is the conception of authorship involved in the dream’s passage from the visual and experiential realm to verbal form. With reference to “literary” accounts of dreams, Norman Holland has questioned the very idea of the “author” of a dream narrative.40 Questions of authorship highlight the role of genre and literary conventions in the recording of dreams.41 In the dream cultures explored in the following articles, genre largely determined the external structures in which dream narratives were recorded. As Leah Kinberg has pointed out, compilations of “symbolic” dreams emerged as a distinct genre, while anthologies of “literal” or immediately comprehensible dreams, such as the Kitab al-Manam of Ibn Abl al-Dunya (208-81/823-94), fell short of establishing a genre of their own.42 From an early date, manuals of dream interpretation were arranged like dictionaries, and like dictionaries, they differed consid erably in length but not in format.43 They have also been described as 38. Shulman and Stroumsa 1999,10-11. 39. See the article of Lamoreaux below; cf. Shulman and Stroumsa 1999,11. 40. Holland 1993. 41. For a discussion of the role of genre and subgenre in the composition of dream visions in the European High Middle Ages, see Lynch 1988, especially 4-11. On the complex processes by which dreams entered the historical record in the Carolingian period, see Dutton 1994, 23-49. 42. On compilations of symbolic dreams, which developed into the genre of works known under the rubric of tabir, see further Fahd 1966,309ff; Kinberg 1993,279-80. 43. Lamoreaux 2002,3. On the developing structural characteristics of the dream manual, from collections of anecdotes to more formal modes of presentation, see Lamoreaux 2002, 15-43.
Introduction
“authorless” texts, in the sense that the writers of such works rarely spoke in their own voices, but rather assembled and reworked earlier materials.44But reports of dreams appeared in a wide variety of external generic structures, including not only works specifically devoted to oneiromancy but also biographical and autobiographical accounts, dynastic chronicles, philosophical and theological treatises, works of Quranic exegesis, guides for religious devotion and piety, epic and lyric poetry, collections of stories and anecdotes, personal correspon dence and diaries.45Within each of these generic frameworks, narrative accounts of dreams were subject to certain literary conventions, which complicate the task of distinguishing, as the authors of Interpreting the Self have put it, “the historical figures from their textual representa tions, and the textual representations from the consciousnesses that produced them.”46 Consideration of the role of dreams in the constant shaping and reshaping of cultures raises the question of the many and varied func tions that dreaming, and dream narratives, can serve. In addition to the mouldings imposed on them by each genre or subgenre, accounts of dreams are presented for particular purposes, which include such disparate functions as moral edification, providing support for a specific doctrinal or legal point of view, affirmation of a dynasty’s claims to political legitimacy, the establishment of an individual’s credentials in a given situation or arena, predicting, cautioning against or foreshadowing future events, addressing a disputed or even unmen tionable topic, social or political commentary, or satire. This plurality of functions and purposes, together with the expectations associated with genres and subgenres, were of crucial importance in shaping the articulation of dream narratives.
The Collected Articles Since the articles that comprise this volume explore different aspects of dreaming in divergent literary, historical and cultural contexts, a brief discussion of the twelve individual contributions will serve both to facilitate the observation of common themes and functions and to evoke the particularities of each piece. Despite references or allu sions to a common discourse and some widely shared assumptions, the cultural environments that produced the discussions of dreaming and the narratives of dreams studied in the following pages consti 44. Lamoreaux 2002,5-6. 45. Fahd 1966, Ziai 1996, Schimmel 1998, Reynolds 2005, Al-Bagdadi 2006. 46. Reynolds 2001,5-6.
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tuted a diversity of dream cultures, in which elements of the textual tradition(s) are continually related and applied to the literary, historical and social particularities of specific contexts. As the summaries of the individual articles will, it is hoped, suggest, the particularities of each context include literary and linguistic considerations, historical and economic factors, political arrangements, and a host of social issues, including matters of personal status, relationships between individuals within hierarchical structures, and gender.47 Leah Kinberg, in an essay that extends her work on the parallels between Prophetic hadith and dream narratives, explores the didactic role of the latter in the context of debates regarding the relative merits of Quranic study (and recitation) and the transmission of Prophetic hadith in the first three centuries of the Islamic era. Reports of dreams, she establishes, augment the information available in reports of hadith, and they provide historians with a fuller impression of the divergent positions surrounding such unresolved issues. Accordingly, she assem bles a large number of examples, in which she finds a proclivity to favour attention to the Quran over attention to the hadith. In establishing the context for these reports of dreams, Kinberg suggests that they reflect a response to hadith transmitters who asserted the superiority of their occupation, and pursued it to the detriment of other meritorious activ ities. She documents the personal and social significance of dreams by citing a case in which, following dreams of the Prophet, a single indi vidual changed his behaviour not once but twice. Collectively, the dream narratives adduced by Kinberg reflect some differences of opinion regarding the merits of seeking and transmitting hadith in scholarly circles, in some cases because it might detract from a scholar’s atten tion to the Qur’an, in others because it might reflect personal pride and a preoccupation with the worldly status that expertise in hadith could bring. Confirming her earlier work, Kinberg shows how narratives of dreams, in their form, articulation and substance, reflect and effect the cultural environments in which they were produced, and in which they functioned as edificatory, didactic, even polemical devices. In another example that evokes the role of dreams in addressing 47. While most of the dreamers discussed in the following pages are male, female dreamers appear in the contributions o f Kahana-Smilansky (where the reference is to the celebrated dreams of the wife of al-Tirmidhl; cf. Radtke and O’Kane, 1996,22-36; Sviri 1999, 261-68) and Frenkel (where the reference concerns women’s dress; compare Miller 1994, 66-67). Furthermore, it is a woman who is cast in the role of sagacious interpreter of dreams in the article of Quinn, and Mahallati emphasizes the major exemplary roles of female figures, such as Zulaykha, in Persian works of Sufi exegesis relating to dreams. For another illustration of the significance of women’s dreams, see Meisami 2005,154-55.
Introduction
and resolving matters of theological dispute, John Lamoreaux’s article examines a previously unpublished and unstudied autobiographical dream narrative, composed in the tenth century by the otherwise unknown Abu Jafar al-Qayinl, apparently a specialist in hadith who (or whose forebears) hailed from the environs of Nishapur. Abu Jafar engages in a wide-ranging, personal conversation with the Prophet, with whom, according to his own account, he has communed in dreams before, beginning in his childhood. In an example of a dream enabling and providing a stimulus to a specific action, Abu Jafar observes that after two failed attempts to make the pilgrimage to Mecca, he was finally able to complete the ritual after another individual raised the matter with the Prophet in a dream. Abu Jafar himself draws Muhammad’s attention to a particular acquaintance, and is assured that the Prophet is already well aware of the man’s merits. The dream culture depicted in this autobiographical account thus assumes that living persons may be affected not only by their own encounters in the realm of dreams but also by those of other persons. Abu Ja far’s conversation also reflects the capacity of dreams to serve as vehicles for articulating points of view at variance with mainstream positions. In his dialogue with the dreamer, the Prophet displays an unfailing inclusiveness, tolerance for and accommodation of minority perspectives. Lamoreaux sees in this account an attempt to build a ‘‘non-partisan understanding of Islam” in both theological and legal terms. His article, like Kinberg’s, thus illus trates the role of dreams in addressing marginal perspectives, and their potential impact on contemporary debates over controversial issues. While many of the articles treat dream visions of the Prophet, the article of Khalid Sindawi focuses on the appearance of ‘All in the dreams of visitors to his tomb in Najaf. Sindawi’s contribution is an effective illustration of the inadequacy of concepts of “high” and “low” levels of culture in this context, in that the religious practices he depicts constitute a manifestation of piety that brings together persons from diverse social groups and is at the same time amply supported in the textual traditions of Shi'ite communities (Sindawi focuses especially on a thirteenth-century work that describes the visions o f‘All reported by visitors to his grave). His article explores a dream culture that is identi fied with a specific location, and demonstrates how this dream culture is integrated into the larger pattern of devotional observances associ ated with the tombs of the Imams. Sindawi shows how visions o f‘All, in which the Imam encourages the dreamer—and through him the larger community—to perform religious observances, fulfill their vows and promises, abide by commitments to one another, and generally uphold the moral and social order, function to consolidate social and religious-
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cultural norms. (This conclusion complements the analogous findings of Frenkel, whose article, mentioned below, examines the functions of dreams in a Sunni context.) Sindawi also shows how the dream narra tives associated with the tombs of the Imams served to affirm and strengthen the pre-eminent place of ‘All, and the later Imams, in the religious and spiritual lives of Twelver Shfite communities, for whom not only the Prophet but also ‘All and the Imams remained in the midst of those devoted to them. Dream visions of ‘All and the Imams are often predictive, or in other ways illustrate their knowledge of secrets that are hidden from the dreamer: by the aid of a pillar of light, the Imams are enabled to observe events all over the physical and invis ible world. Sindawi’s article thus situates dream visions of ‘All in the context of Twelver Shi‘ite piety, and shows how it both mirrors and reinforces aspects of faith, religious practices and social-cultural norms and arrangements. Rotraud Hansberger’s article deals less with narratives of dreams than with the construction of an Islamicate discourse on the theory of dreaming. Her starting point is the surprisingly positive reception of Aristotle’s theories of dream interpretation in Arabic and Hebrew works of oneirocriticism, given that the philosopher rejected the divine origin of dreams and sought natural explanations for veridical dreams. Hansberger’s examination shows that the version of Aristotle’s De divinatione per somnum transmitted in Arabic, known at present from a single and incomplete manuscript copy, differed very consider ably from the Greek version known to modern readers. In the Greek version, Aristotle acknowledges that people may dream of events that later come to pass but offers explanations for this phenomenon that preclude supernatural involvement. The Arabic version, by contrast, assumes that veridical dreams derive from a divine source: God is the originator of dreams, which are conveyed to the dreamer through the Universal Intellect. Furthermore the Arabic text envisages all things as possessing three interrelated forms: corporeal, intellectual and spiri tual, the intellectual form being innermost, the corporeal one outer most. In a veridical dream, the dreamer perceives the spiritual form, but the Intellect is also able to convey intellectual forms as “spiritual words” to the dreamer. If the dreamer’s faculty of thought is unable to interpret the dream, the Intellect conveys the same “spiritual words” to the dream interpreter, whose task is then to convert the “spiritual words” into “corporeal words,” that is, speech comprehensible to the dreamer. Consequently, Hansberger shows that the Arabic “transla tion” of Aristotle’s De divinatione per somnum differs considerably from the Greek text. While the two texts bear some resemblance in points
Introduction
of detail, the former derives its broader conceptual framework largely from post-Aristotelian metaphysical and psychological theories. It was the Arabic version, however, that several medieval Muslim and Jewish writers took for Aristotle’s theory, which was clearly well known in this form. Eric Ormsby similarly addresses the psychological, spiritual and epistemological aspects of dreaming, with particular atten tion to the role of “vision” in the dreamer’s experience. He explores these topics principally through the writings of Abu Hamid al-Ghazall (450-505/1058-1111), and to a lesser extent those of his younger brother Ahmad al-Ghazall, and other exponents of Sufi perspectives, in which dreams played a particularly prominent role. Theoretical treatments of dreaming commonly distinguish between two kinds, or levels, of vision: the dreamer’s visionary experience itself, which occurs in a liminal state during which the activities of the external senses are suspended, and the insight required to interpret such visual mani festations. With reference to the writings of Abu Hamid al-Ghazall, Ormsby discusses the “inner eye,” the non-corporeal faculty of vision or insight that yields more reliable knowledge than the questionable data relayed to the mind by the physical sensory organ of the eyes.48 In the strand of discourse explored in Ormsby’s essay, he demonstrates not only a distrust of the external senses but also a devaluation of the intellect. Abu Hamid al-Ghazall posits a “stage beyond the intellect,” which required the existence of “another eye” by which human beings may perceive the invisible and apprehend the future. In prophets, this inner eye is fully open, so that they see with the “eyes of the heart.” But in dreaming, according to Abu Hamid al-Ghazall, other human beings retain a vestige of that faculty, such that dreams were for him a guar antor of prophecy. Al-Ghazall himself regarded dreams as an authori tative source of knowledge, and took the dreams of certain upright persons into account in making decisions in his life. Ahmad al-Ghazall also discusses dreaming, “seeing” and the inner eye, and Ormsby suggests that his writings may bear upon Abu Hamid’s later thinking on the subject. Most clearly, al-Ghazall reduces the role of the intellect to that of a guide to sleep and dream, and in this regard he departs from the theories of the earlier philosopher al-Farabl (d. 339/950), whose work in some other respects anticipates al-Ghazalfs own. Olga Davidson’s article explores the role of dreams in Ferdowsfs Shahnama, where she demonstrates that they serve not only to reflect (on) but also to advance the larger narrative of the epic. Drawing on 48. See also Al-Bagdadi 2006.
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comparative evidence from ancient Greek literature, she shows how dreams are portrayed as mantic visions, which require interpretation by persons (soothsayers, seers, poets) possessed of mantic powers. Such dream visions bear a close resemblance to similes and metaphors, in that they are not only shaped by the narrative but also predict, and even determine it. Thus FerdowsT narrates a dream in which his prede cessor Daqlql, who began composing a Shahndma, appears to him and predicts Ferdowsfs successful completion of the task; the dream is governed by Ferdowsfs act of writing in the present, and prefigures the final outcome of his labours.49 Another sequence of dreams, interior to the drama of the epic narrative, involves the theme of fathers and sons. In a dream the hero Sam sees his son Zal, whom he had abandoned at birth on account of the child’s white hair. Sam consults the mobads as to the meaning of his dream; the mobads urge penitence, since Sam has broken the natural order by abandoning his own child, a motif that is recapitulated in a subsequent dream. In this example, the dream stimu lates a long-overdue action on the part of the dreamer: Sam is induced to search for Zal. Davidson shows how Sam’s dreams draw attention to the wrongfulness of the hero-father’s neglect of his son, and lead to Sam’s belated efforts to repair the damaged relationship; but more than this, they anticipate the continuing pattern of paternal negligence and the tragic consequences it will produce in the case of Rostam’s lack of contact with his son, Sohrab. The irony is rendered the more poignant by the mobads’ observation that animals of all species, no matter how lowly, nurture their young; the comparison with the animal kingdom, representing the natural order, is reiterated later in the narrative when Rostam, failing to recognise Sohrab, inadvertently fights and kills his son. Through this repeated paternal neglect, the illustrious line of heroes is brought abruptly to an end. In this exploration of literary dreams, Davidson thus illustrates their reciprocal role: they serve not only to comment on events and persons in the epic, but also to direct and propel the unfolding of the narrative. In a treatment that focuses on autobiographical dream accounts, Hagar Kahana-Smilansky addresses the multiple dream sequences narrated by the master of Arabic letters Abu Hayyan al-Tawhldl (d. 414/1023). She argues that while dreams, in any culture, reflect personal experience only indirectly, since their forms are mediated through cultural and literary conventions, this indirection modifies but does not nullify the personal meaning of dreams. Her contribu tion seeks to explore the writer’s personality through his narratives 49. On the role of dreams as an impetus for creative inspiration, see also Schimmel 1998,
117
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Introduction
of his dreams, which she regards as part of, rather than distinct from, the literary materials in which he articulated other aspects of his past. The dreams explored by Kahana-Smilansky occurred at different stages in al-Tawhldfs life. In certain examples, al-Tawhldfs deceased master al-Sijistanl (d. ca. 375/985) appears to the author, and engages him in discussion of certain philosophical problems; the encounter is reminis cent of Abu Jafar’s discussion of theological issues with the Prophet. In one case, al-Tawhldl responds to a dream by taking the radical action of burning his books, a gesture that leads Kahana-Smilansky to suggest that the dream may have constituted a “conversion.” Overall, his dreams reflect an effort to examine and improve the moral condition of his soul, and suggest internal conflict of a kind reflected elsewhere in his writings. He expresses these concerns in terms of the philosophical doctrines of his school, and thus continues the custom of members of his philosophical circle in recording their “intellectual dreams.” In the context of this philosophical strand of the discourse of dream interpre tation, dreams were deemed to derive from a transcendent authority, and in a fashion reminiscent of the transmission of hadith, they could be handed down from one generation to the next: Kahana-Smilansky records an example in which al-Tawhldl narrates a dream experienced by his teacher al-Sijistanl, in which the latter saw his own teacher, who passed on to al-Sijistanl ethical instructions that he himself had received from Aristotle, all in the form of dreams. Mohammad Mahallati studies the quintessential prophetic inter preter of dreams, the prophet Joseph (Yusuf), who in the Quran as in the Hebrew Bible and related Jewish, Christian and Muslim traditions is closely associated with exceptional, divinely given insight into the meaning of dreams. The figure of Yusuf and the divinely bestowed quality of insight that he possesses is a particularly prominent theme in Sufi thought, and especially in Sufi commentaries on the Quran. Mahallati’s article focuses on two well-known Persian Sufi commen taries, one composed in the twelfth and the other in the fifteenth century. He explores the exegetical categories and techniques employed by the two commentators as well as the major points of emphasis in each, which he finds strongly ethical and spiritual. He indicates further the didactic nature of the commentaries, which employ peda gogical techniques to foster sensitivity to the meaning and symbolism of dreams in their readers, so that they can profit from their dreams in applying their messages to their own lives. Dreams, according to Mahallati’s analysis, function as a “heavenly early warning system” for all individuals, and mediate between divinely destined outcomes and human free will. In a study that amplifies Kinberg’s research into the
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didactic and edificatory functions of dreams in certain scholarly circles during the first three centuries, Mahallati demonstrates the important role of dreams, situated in the liminal space between the mundane and the spiritual spheres of life, in offering spiritual guidance and moral instruction in Persianate contexts during the Middle Periods. Jonathan Katz’s essay similarly focuses on the central role of dreams in the lives and discourse of Sufis, in this case in the context of eighteenth-century Morocco. In this environment, Katz situates dreams and their interpretation in terms of the social and spiritual relation ship of the dreamer (the follower of a Sufi master) and the interpreter of dreams (his shaykh). By revealing his dreams to his shaykh, the follower demonstrated his acceptance of the shaykh’s superior spiri tual and moral status, which was both mirrored and further enhanced in the process of the shaykh’s interpretation and subsequent guid ance of his followers. In the dream culture studied in Katz’s article* dreams are treated as indicative of the dreamer’s spiritual state, and moral lapses are apparent in the symbolic content of his dreams. Katz suggests that when applied practically, such understandings served primarily to demonstrate the shaykh’s authority and only second arily as a means of providing guidance. The dream culture depicted in his contribution emphasizes the unequal relationship of follower and shaykh: the shaykh’s right and responsibility to guide others derive from his personal experience of divine illumination, and his followers’ aspirations for such illumination in their own lives are conditional on their devotion to the shaykh. Shaykhs, in their interpretations of the symbolism in their followers’ dreams, demonstrated their knowledge of the latter’s intimate lives. The practice of confiding and interpreting dreams intensified the follower’s awareness of his moral imperfections and the obstacles that impeded his spiritual advancement, and at the same time deepened his ties to his shaykh, who perceived his imperfec tions. In his study of a range of dream narratives recorded in Arabic chronicles of the Mamluk period, Yehoshua Frenkel sees in them reflections of the mentalité of the Egyptian and Syrian urban elites in the thirteenth to sixteenth centuries, and of struggles for power at the Mamluk court. Frenkel notes the chroniclers’ treatment of dreams as part of the public domain, of concern and importance not only to the individual dreamer but also to the larger society. The materials discussed in his article attest to the importance attached to dreams across the spectrum of these urban societies: the chroniclers recorded the dreams of sultans, judges, shaykhs, soldiers, historians, bathhouse
Introduction
attendants, unnamed pious individuals and poor persons. The chroni clers illustrate the interplay of the shared discourse of dream interpre tation, reflected, for example, in the widespread understanding that the invisible world was intimately connected with and exerted a powerful influence over the tangible world, and the particular historical circum stances and cultural components of Mamluk Egypt and Syria. In these settings, dreams, depicted with a strongly local quality, played a role in the responses of urban populations to such catastrophes as the plague, and to the risk of attack. Frenkel argues that by incorporating accounts of dreams into their narratives, the chroniclers forged a particularly close bond with their readers, and contributed to the shaping of their societies by constructing and consolidating a view of the world and of the past. Through their commentaries and interpretations of dreams, they ordered the world of every day experience, and reinforced prevailing social norms and arrangements. Sholeh Quinn addresses the representation of royal dreams in Safavid chronicles and other historiographical writings. Her particular emphasis is on the changing representation of the same dream, as its public meaning was adapted to new circumstances and political needs. Having demonstrated in some of her earlier work how the predic tive dreams of Shaykh Safi were recast to foretell the advent of Shah Ismàïl (r. 907-30/1501-24), to emphasise the Shi'ite nature of Safavid rule, and to connect Shah ‘Abbas (r. 996-1038/1588-1629) with Tïmür, Quinn here examines the continuing processes of reinterpretation of Shaykh Safi’s dreams in chronicles written after the reign of Shah ‘Abbâs. Her work thus documents the functions of dreams in the public sphere, where their meaning is subject to modification and manipula tion by interested individuals and groups. Shaykh Safi, as shaykh of the Safaviyya Sufi organization, participated in a culture in which dreams and dream interpretation, as already noted, were of particular impor tance. Subsequent to the founding of the Safavid state, the accounts of Safi’s dreams were incorporated into another set of narratives, in which they served to situate and explain the origins of the Safavid dynasty. In the period after the reign o f‘Abbas, Quinn shows, the authors of formal chronicles portrayed these dreams in a manner consistent with the works of their predecessors, whose main points they tended to articulate in a more explicit fashion. In addition, the period saw the appearance o f popular historical romances, which likewise identified explicitly the implied symbolism and meaning of the dreams, perhaps for the benefit o f an audience less familiar with early Safavid history. Quinn notes that the later chronicles and romances particularly emphasise the Shfite
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aspects of Shaykh Safi’s dreams, thus reasserting the monarch’s impor tance in the context of a religious framework at a time when the reli gious establishment was becoming increasingly powerful. The symbolic importance of dreams in establishing the legitimacy of a dynasty is further illustrated by later records of predictive dreams in the works of Nadir Shah’s chroniclers. Such narratives draw on the discourse of dreaming for purposes of dynastic legitimation, and further shape the prevailing cultural environment by responding to and commenting on contemporary conditions. The article of Serpil Bagci focuses on the use, for purposes of divi nation, of tangible images rather than dream visions. Like the preceding essays, however, Bagci’s essay is concerned with the transposition of visual images—in this case, paintings—to words. The connection is a close one: indeed, Miller has noted how dreams, like painting, were a form of “iconization.”50 Bagci explores two illustrated manuscripts of /a/s, or omens; one manuscript contains texts written in Persian, the other in Turkish. Situating these manuscripts in the context of the elites of sixteenth-century Istanbul, she documents the diviner’s access to a range of social levels, from the sultan to passing city residents. While certain highly esteemed works of literature, such as the poetic works of Rum! and Hafez, and above all the Quran itself, had long been used for purposes of divination in this and other cultural settings, the illustrated falnames required the interpreter to take both the images and the accompanying texts into account. The repertoire of images used for divination reflected religious, literary, legendary and astrolog ical themes familiar to the urban population at large. Bagci notes the prominence in the paintings of eschatological and apocalyptic imagery, and she links this feature to the common expectation among the inhab itants of the Mediterranean and West Asian regions of the Ottoman Empire at the turn of the (hijri) millennium that the end of the world was imminent. She also explores the compilation of such volumes in the context of a religious culture that was ambivalent, and sometimes hostile, to figural representation, despite the fact that divination was a common activity at the Ottoman palace. In anticipation of possible crit icism, Bagci suggests, the Turkish author sought to forestall potential objections by stressing the necessity of learning from the examples of the past, and applying the lessons of the past to the present and future. In summary, the present collection of articles portrays a varied range of overlapping dream cultures. In the context of specific histor 50. Miller 1994, 28.
Introduction
ical and literary settings, certain common elements were appropriated, recapitulated, adapted and applied to address particular interests and purposes. By virtue of their liminality, dreams possessed a particular potential both to mirror and to shape the environments in which they occurred, were translated into words, and interpreted. As the studies illustrate, in different settings, persons and groups responded to this potential in different ways. The articles that comprise this book illus trate the interaction of shared features and motifs, elements of a discourse articulated according to various intellectual disciplines, cultural factors, literary genres and authorial purposes, with the lived experience of individuals and groups in specific historical situations. While the collection explores the flexibility of dreams and the diver sity of functions played by narratives and interpretations of dreams in Islamicate contexts, it is hoped that the articles will be of interest to readers interested in the comparative study of dreams and dream cultures as well.
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Works Cited Al-Bagdadi, N. (2006), “The Other Eye: Sight and Insight in Arabic Classical Dream Literature,” The Medieval HistoryJournal 9:115-41. Berkey, J. P. (2001), Popular Preaching and Religious Authority in the Medieval Islamic Near East, Seattle and London. Dodds, E. R. (1951), The Greeks and the Irrational Berkeley and Los Angeles. Dutton, P. E. (1994), The Politics o f Dreaming in the Carolingian Empire, Lincoln, Nebraska and London. Fahd, T. (1959), “Les songes et leur interprétation selon l'Islam,” in: Les songes et leur interprétation, ed. A.-M. Esnoul et al., Paris, 125-58. ------ (ed.) (1964), Artémidore d’Éphèse. Le livre des songes traduit du grec en arabe par Hunayn b. Ishdq, Damascus. ------ (1966), La divination arabe. Études religieuses, sociologiques et folk loriques sur le milieu natif de l'Islam, Leiden. ------ (1978), “Istikhâra,” in EPIV: 259-60. von Grunebaum, G. E. and R. Caillois (1966), The Dream and Human Societies, Berkeley. Hasan-Rokem, G. (1999), “Communication with the Dead in Jewish Dream Culture,” in: Dream Cultures: Explorations in the Comparative History o f Dreaming, ed. D. Shulman and G. G. Stroumsa, New York, 213-32. Hodgson, M. G. S. (1974), The Venture o f Islam: Conscience and History in a World Civilization, 3 vols., Chicago. Holland, N. N. (1993), “Foreword: The Literarity of Dreams, and the Dreaminess of Literature,” in: The Dream and the Text: Essays on Literature and Language, ed. C. S. Rupprecht, Albany, ix-xxii. Hourani, A. (1991), A History o f the Arab Peoples, New York. Kafadar, C. (1989), “Self and Others: The Diary of a Dervish in Seventeenth-Century Istanbul and First-Person Narratives in Ottoman Literature,” SI 69:121-50. Kagan, R. L (1990), Lucretia's Dreams: Politics and Prophecy in SixteenthCentury Spain, Berkeley. Katz, J. G. (1996), Dreams, Sufism and Sainthood: The Visionary Career o f Muhammad al-Zawâwî, Leiden. Kinberg, L. (1985), “The Legitimization of the Madhdhib Through Dreams,” Arabica 32:47-79. ------ (1991), “The Standardization of Qur an Readings: The Testimonial Value of Dreams,” The Arabist: Budapest Studies in Arabic 3-4:223-38. ------ (1993), “Literal Dreams and Prophetic HadTts in Classical Islam—A Comparison of Two Ways of Legitimation,” Der Islam 70:279-300.
Introduction
------ (1994), Ibn Abï al-Dunyä: Morality in the Guise o f Dreams: A Critical Edition ofKitäb al-Manam with Introduction, Leiden. ------ (1999), “Dreams as a Means to Evaluate Hadith,’"JSAI23:79-99. Kluckhohn, C. (1942), “Myths and Rituals: A General Theory,” The Harvard Theological Review 35:45-79. Kruger, S. F. (1992), Dreaming in the Middle Ages, Cambridge. Lamoreaux, J. C. (2002), The Early Muslim Tradition o f Dream Interpretation, Albany. Lory, P. (2003), Le rêve et ses interprétations en Islam, Paris. Lynch, K. L. (1988), The High Medieval Dream Vision: Poetry, Philosophy, and Literary Form, Stanford. Mavroudi, M. (2002), A Byzantine Book o f Dream Interpretation: The Oneirocriticon of Achmet and Its Arabic Sources, Leiden. Meisami, J. S. (2005), “Mas udî and the Reign of al-Amln: Narrative and Meaning in Medieval Muslim Historiography,” in: On Fiction and Adab in Medieval Arabic Literature, ed. P. F. Kennedy, Wiesbaden, 149-76. Miller, P. C. (1994), Dreams in Late Antiquity: Studies in the Imagination o f a Culture, Princeton. O’Flaherty, W. D. (1984), Dreams, Illusion and Other Realities, Chicago. Omidsalar, M. (1996), “Divination,” in: Elr VII: 440-43. Price, S. R. F. (1986), “The Future of Dreams: From Freud to Artemidorus,” Past and Present 113:3-37. Radtke, B. and J. O’Kane (1996), The Concept o f Sainthood in Early Islamic Mysticism, Richmond. Reynolds, D. F. (ed.) (2001), Interpreting the Self. Autobiography in the Arabic Literary Tradition, Berkeley. ------ (2005), “Symbolic Narratives of Self: Dreams in Medieval Arabic Autobiographies,” in: On Fiction and Adab in Medieval Arabic Literature, ed. P. F. Kennedy, Wiesbaden, 261-86. Rupprecht, C. S. (ed.) (1993), The Dream and the Text: Essays on Literature and Language, Albany. Schimmel, A. (1998), Die Träume des Kalifen. Träume und ihre Deutung in der islamischen Kultur, Munich. Shulman, D. and G. G. Stroumsa (eds.) (1999), Dream Cultures: Explorations in the Comparative History o f Dreaming, New York. Sviri, S. (1999), “Dreaming Analyzed and Recorded: Dreams in the World of Medieval Islam,” in: Dream Cultures: Explorations in the Comparative History o f Dreaming, ed. D. Shulman and G. G. Stroumsa, New York, 252-73. Stroumsa, G. G. (1999), “Dreams and Visions in Early Christian Discourse,” in: Dream Cultures: Explorations in the Comparative History o f Dreaming, ed. D. Shulman and G. G. Stroumsa, New York, 189-212.
Louise Marlow
Taylor, C. S. (1999), In the Vicinity o f the Righteous: Ziyara and the Veneration o f Muslim Saints in Late Medieval Egypt, Leiden. Ziai, H. (1996), “Dreams and Dream Interpretation,” in: Elr VII: 549-51.
Qur an and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives1 L eah K inberg
Introduction Many early Islamic texts, whether in the form of hadith, akhbar,2 biographical anecdotes,3 or edifying narratives/ treat the subject of remuneration in the next world. While describing the good fortune that awaits the believer, they introduce us to the pleasures of paradise and teach us about the “value” of duties, according to their ability to draw the performer closer to eternal bliss. Very often these texts allude to a direct relationship between the duties performed in the present world and the rewards to be reaped in the next, while specifying special delights that come as a result of fulfilling particular deeds. Among the virtues presented as a guarantee of good fortune, devotion to the study of the Qur an and the hadith is widely discussed. When dealing with the Qur’an, several issues are mentioned, including the continual recitation of the Qur’an, the recitation of chapters or verses of special virtue (fadail), variant readings (qiraat), as well as the study and the teaching of the Qur’an. The issues that relate to hadith as promising 1. A preliminary version of this paper was presented at the 209th meeting of the American Oriental Society (March, 1999) in Baltimore. 2. For a discussion of the terms akhbar, hadith, and sira see Cooperson 2000,1-16. 3. See, for example (in chronological order): K. al-Tabaqatal-kabirby Ibn Sad (d. 230/845); al-Jarh wa ’l-ta'dfl by Ibn Abl Hatim al-RazI (d. 327/938); Hilyat al-awliya by Abu Nu'aym alIsfahanl (d. 430/1038); Tarikh Baghdad by al-Khatlb al-Baghdadl (d. 463/1070); Tarikh madinat Dimashq by Ibn ‘Asakir (d. 571/1175); Sifat al-^afwa by Ibn al-jawzl (d. 597/1200); Rawd alrayyahin by 'Abd-Allahb. Asad al-Yafn (d. 768/1366); al-Kawakibal-durriyya by 'Abd al-Ra’uf al-MunawT (d. 1022/1613). See also biographical works limited to one figure, such as Manaqib Ahmad and Sirat 'Umar, both by Ibn al-jawzl. 4. See, for example (in chronological order): al-Zuhd wa ’l-raqaiq by ‘Abd-Allah b. alMubarak (d. 181/797); al~Zuhd by Ahmad b. Hanbal (d. 241/855); al-Risala by al-Qushayri (d. 465/1072); Ihya ulum al-din by al-Ghazall (d. 505/1111); al-‘Aqiba by Abu Muhammad alIshbUl (d. 581-2/1185-6); al-Tadhkira fiahwdl al-mawtd by al-Qurtubi (d. 671/1272); al-Ruh by Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya (d. 751/1350); Ahwal al-qubur by Ibn Rajab (d. 790/1388); Bushra alka’ib and Sharh al-sudur, both by Jalal al-DIn al-Suyutl (d. 911/1505); Ithafal-sada by Murtada al-Zabldl (d. 1205/1791).
25
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compensation in Heaven focus mainly on the preservation of the sunna of the Prophet, the accuracy of its transmission, and the pure intention (niyya) of the muhaddith. In most cases, whether examined together or apart, a harmonious correspondence between the Qur an and the hadith is implied. Nevertheless, given the range and size of the corpus of tradi tions, there are bound to be exceptions. Exceptional traditions are those that venture to deal with topics that other sources would not touch, and raise questions rarely posed elsewhere. In so doing, this kind of tradition may provide a better understanding of the issue under discussion. Such traditions may expose inner feelings in an oblique and guarded manner, and allow us to go beyond the official and normative viewpoints. To avoid unnec essary confrontation, exceptional and sometimes extreme views were expressed by early Islamic scholars through their exploration of dreams. Such are the dreams that while examining the value of the Qur an and the hadith do not conform to the usual mode of showing agreement between the two, but rather dare to present the Qur an and the hadith as two opposing poles. The purpose of the present paper is to study the nature of this disagreement. In the following pages I will examine a series of short anecdotes that suggest what seems to be a struggle between the Qur’an and the hadith. I will begin with the analysis of dream-narrations and refer to non-dream anecdotes in order to present the argument in its wider context. In previous studies I have examined the function of dreams in early Islamic society, and emphasized their edifying nature. I have focused on the features that dreams share with prophetic hadith and demonstrated how dreams served as a source of guidance and a means of legitimiza tion for various trends and tendencies in Islamic society in the first centuries of its existence.5Here I will focus on dream narratives that deal with the relative status of the Qur’an and the hadith as granters of rewards. Keeping in mind the Islamic view of dreams as bearers of transcendental knowledge, I will argue that these dreams, both those that defend the Qur an and those that support the hadith, should be regarded as attempts to impose solutions to unsettled cases, reflecting at the same time the complexity of the issue, and exposing some of the doubts and uncertainties which may have been experienced by the Muslims who related them. A widely circulated prophetic hadith states that a vision of the Prophet in a dream is deemed equal to his actual appearance. This hadith often includes a statement to the effect that the devil does not 5. Kinberg 1993.
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
take the Prophet’s form. The large number of references to this state ment6and the fact that each of the canonical hadith collections cites it in a chapter devoted to dreams,7in support of the reliability of dreams, indicates that this statement conveys a fundamental Islamic percep tion. This hadith denotes that the appearance of the Prophet in a dream is sufficient and may have the same authoritative power as his physical appearance. Consequently, it is not only through a direct audience or encounter with the Prophet that people learn how to conduct them selves; prophetic words heard in dreams may have the same impact. Thus, Muslims born after the Prophet’s death in 632 C.E. may never theless “consult” with the Prophet in a dream, and even after death he is able to lead his community in very much the same way as he used to guide and instruct his companions during his lifetime. This notion is confirmed by another well-known hadith, according to which the Prophet said: “Mission and prophecy have come to an end; there is no messenger after me and no prophet.” The hadith further reports that this idea troubled the people, so the Prophet reassured them by saying: “But the tidings (mubashshirat) [remain].”8 Upon hearing the Prophet’s proclamation, the people asked about the nature of these tidings, to which the Prophet replied: “[They are] the Muslim’s dream (ruya);9 it is a part of prophecy.”10This hadith conveys a comforting notion of a 6. For variants and references, see Zaghlul, Mawsua, 8:271-72. The question of whether the Prophet must be seen in his known form, or may be seen in other forms, is discussed in Ibn Hajar, Fath al-ban, 12:384. Among the traditions cited there, we find the common formula followed by an addition that may imply a more permissive way of dealing with the appearance of the Prophet in dreams: “Whoever has seen me in a dream has certainly seen me in wakefulness, because I can be seen in any form” (my emphasis). 7. See, for example, al-Bukhari, Sahih, Bab ft ’l-tabir, Muslim, Sahih, Bab al-ru’y a; Ibn Maja, Sunan, Bab al-ruya; al-Tirmidhl, al-Jami al-sahih, Bab al-ruya; Abu Da ud, Sunan, Bab ma j a a fTl-ruyd; al-Tirmidhi, Bab m aja a fi tabir al-ruya. For references see Wensinck, Concordance, 7:53 (n.w.m.). 8. Referring to Q. 10:63-64: “Surely God’s friends—no fear shall be on them, neither shall they sorrow. Those who believe, and are god-fearing—for them is good tidings in the present life and in the world to come” (Arberry, The Koran Interpreted, 1:232). 9. The interpretation of “good tidings” to mean dreams (ruya) must be an early one, since it is already mentioned by Muqatil b. Sulayman (d. 150/767), Tafsir, 2:243. In his commentary on Q. 12:43 (inniara sab' baqarat) Abu Zakariyya Yahya b. Ziyad al-Farra (d. 207/822) points to the connection between the verb raa and its derivation ruya, and between the verbal nouns nawm and mancun referring to Q. 37:102: innfara fTl-manam anni adhbahuka (Maanial-Quran, 2 :46). According to this interpretation the words ruya and manam are interchangeable, both denoting that a good dream is attainable for righteous people. 10. al-Hakim al-Naysaburi, al-Mustadrak, 4 :391. For references see Zaghlul, Mawsua, 3:80. For other versions see Wensinck, Concordance, 1:181 (b.sh.r.); Ibn KathTr, al-Bidaya wal-nihaya, 10:342; al-Daylaml, al-Firdaws, 2:247,278; Ibn al-jawzl, al-Hadaiq, 3:85; al-Zabldl, Ithafal-sada, 10:428; al-Haythaml, Kashf al-astar, 3:10-11; al-Haythaml, Majma al-zawaid, 7:175-77; Ibn Hazm, al-Milal wal-nihal, 5:124; Ibn Abi Shayba, Musannaflbn AbiShayba, 11:50-55; al-Suyuti,
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prophetic guidance that accompanies righteous Muslims of all gener ations in their sleep,11 a direct means of communication between the Prophet and the believers of any generation. Furthermore, a prophetic communication delivered in a dream does not require a chain of trans mitters (isnad) in support of its reliability. Through the medium of dreams, time and space may collapse into the present moment. This hadith undoubtedly instilled confidence in dreams and encour aged people to use this medium for promoting their ideas; at the same time, however, it may have encouraged the misuse of dreams. We may assume that once the appearance of the Prophet in a dream came to be an accepted phenomenon, some people utilized this medium and made up dreams to serve their own interests. The desire to prevent such abuses underlines the warnings in the hadith about lying in dreams. These sayings were most likely formed in order to draw attention to possible fabrications, and as such they resemble hadith statements that warn people not to lie when transmitting information in the name of the Prophet. They may be found in the hadith collections as four sepa rate warnings; two refer to hadith per se and two to dreams. The dreamwarning pair read as follows: (l) “He who lies about his dream will have to tie a knot in a small barley corn on the day ofjudgment,”12and (2), in a milder version: “He who deliberately lies about dreams will have to join a barley com on the day of judgment.”13The hadfth-warning pair state: (l) “He who lies in my name, let him take his place in Hell,”14and (2) in a milder version: “He who deliberately lies in my name let him take his place in Hell.”ls Both pairs indicate that fabrications took place in the Islamic community in its first centuries, and point out the tactics that were used to suppress such conduct. We may assume that the warnings Shark al-fudur, 36; Ibn Abl Ya'la, Tabaqat al-hanabila, 2 :218; al-Khatlb al-Baghdadl, Tarikh Baghdad, 14:188. See also Kister 1974, 82, n. 70. For the oft-cited tradition which presents dreams as part of prophecy, see Wensinck, Concordance, 2:205 (r.’.y); Zaghlul, Mawsu'a, 5:15455. 11. In his commentary on Q.10:63 al-Farra presents the dream as a reward bestowed on people in the present world, while paradise is their reward in the afterworld (Maani alQuran, 1:471). 12. For references see Wensinck, Concordance, 1:504 (h.l.m.), 3:143 (sh.‘.r.), 4:294 (\q.d.) and Zaghlul, Mawsu a, 8:523,525-26. See also the discussion in Ibn Hajar, Fath al-bari, 12:42729. 13. al-Haythaml, Majma al-zawaid, 7:177; For references see Wensinck, Concordance, 5:549 (k.dh.b.); Zaghlul, Mawsu'a, 8:523,526. Italics added. 14. Wensinck, Concordance, 5: 549 (k.dh.b.); Zaghlul, Mawsua, 8: 522-23; al-Khatlb alBaghdadl, Sharaf ashab al-hadith, 13-15. For a thorough examination of this saying see Juynboll 1983,96-133. 15. For an extensive list of references see Wensinck, Concordance, 5: 549 (k.dh.b.), 4: 350 O.m.d.); Zaghlul, Mawsu'a, 8:523-25. Italics added.
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
about lying in hadith were formulated by people who wanted to stem the tide of forgery and needed to justify their engagement through the science of al-jarh w al-tadil, the purpose of which was to expose false traditions.16The warnings about lying in dreams reflect a similar reality and had the same function. The resemblance between the two pairs indicates the similar precautions that were taken in the case of dreams and hadiths. It testifies to the central role that both dreams and hadiths played in Muslim society, and to the tremendous influence of their teachings. Two issues, therefore, complement each other in the variety of traditions concerning dreams: dreams were important as part of prophecy, transmitting the Prophet's words, and consequently severe measures were to be taken against anyone who misused them. The threat of punishment no doubt created confidence in dream reports. People’s stories about their dreams were taken seriously, because it was believed that no one would dare to lie about his dreams. But this very belief could play into the hands of those who wanted to use dreams to promote their own interests. Again, the similarity to hadith is apparent: on the one hand, the high status of hadiths meant that people considered the message to be authoritative and, on the other hand, it demanded a strict examination of reliability. It would be wrong to think that in Islamic dream-literature authorization through dreams was possible only with the Prophet’s appearance. A statement ascribed to one of the leading dream-interpreters, Muhammad b. SIrIn (d. UO/728)17runs as follows: “Whatever the deceased tells you in sleep is true/the truth (haqq)y for he resides in the world of truth” (dor al-haqq).18This statement is not focused on the Prophet’s appearance, but rather recognizes the reliability of any dead person who appears in dreams. It is the dream itself, and not the Prophet, that creates legitimate authority. The idea that any person who has died may appear in a dream and supply sound guidance may be used as an additional illustration of the usage of dreams as a source of legitimacy. As long as the message comes from the hereafter, its words are considered to originate from “the world of truth,” regard16. Ibn AbTHatim al-RazI, in his introduction to al-jarh wa'l-ta'dil, adduces these traditions to justify the very examination of hadith transmitters; see, for example, 1:7,8,14. 17. A pious muhaddith, known as a dream interpreter. See his biography in al-Isfahanl, Hilyat al-awliya, 2: 263-82; Ibn Abi Hatim, al-jarh wal-ta'dil, 7: 280-81 (no. 1518); Ibn Sa‘d, K. al-Tabaqat al-kabir, 7(l): 140; al-Dhahabl, Tadhkirat al-huffaz, 77; Ibn Hajar, Tahdhib al-tahdhib, 9: 27; al-Khatlb al-Baghdadi, Tarikh Baghdad, 5: 331-38 (no. 2857); Ibn Khallikan, Wafayat alayan, 4:181-83. See also Fahd 1971, and the bibliography there. 18. al-Zabldi, Ithafal-sada, 10:431; Ibn Abi Yala, Tabaqat al-hanabila, 2:220.
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less of the identity of the messenger. This idea underlies the hundreds, indeed thousands of dreams in which a dead person appears in a living person’s dream, advising, instructing, preaching, or merely talking about his or her own experience in the hereafter. The dreamer takes the deceased’s advice or analyzes the implications of the deceased’s condition, and acts accordingly. As the deliverers of truth from the next world (dar al-haqq) into this one, dreams imparted special authority. The individual story became marginal, with the daily experiences related in dreams serving as a means to measure the relationship between acts in the present world and rewards in the next,19 helping to decipher the enigma of divine retribution. Dreams thus became the ultimate source for profound knowledge, authoritative enough to settle major communal disputes. The debate over the relative status of the Qur an and the hadith is merely one example. The following survey will not examine dream narratives as indi vidual cases; the focus will be on their implications for the Islamic community at large. Consequently, descriptions of heavenly rewards granted in return for earthly devotion to either the Qur an or the hadith will be presented as the reflection of both legal and theological prefer ences that prevailed in the Islamic community in its first three centu ries.
The Quran’s Supremacy In hadith literature we find a debate over the merits of Qur anic study and over the propriety of Qur anic recitation.20According to a widely cited hadith, the Prophet said, “Adorn the Qur an with your voices” (zayyinu al-Quran bi-aswatikum).2' It is in the context of this debate that the following dreams are best understood. ‘Abd-Allah b. al-Mubarak (d. 181/797)22 appeared in a dream and said that God forgave him for his recitation of the Qur an.23In another dream, the Prophet addressed 19. This idea is based on the perception that the dead know (ya'lamun), but cannot perform, whereas the living are able to carry out deeds (yamalun), but are not aware of their significance in the future. For examples see Ibn Abi ’1-Dunya, K. al-Qubur, 29-30, nos. 3,4, 5. For examination and further examples, see Kinberg 1986. 20. See, for example, al-Qurtubl, al-Jami li-ahkam al-Quran, 1:10-17 (Bab kayffyyatal-tilawa li-kitab Allah ta a la ...). 21. For references see Wensinck, Concordance, 2:376 (z.y.n.); Zaghlul, Mawsu'a, 5:176. 22. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyaralam al-nubala, 8:378-421 and the introduction to Ibn al-Mubarak al-MarwazI, al-Zuhd wal-raqaiq, 35-61. See also J. Robson 1971b and the bibliography there. 23. Ibn ‘Asakir, Tarikh madinatDimashq, 32:483.
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
a certain Haytham with the following question: “Are you the same Haytham who adorned the Qur an with his voice?” When Haytham responded positively, the Prophet said: “God will bestow grace upon you.”24 The underlying significance of Haytham’s personal narrative does not necessarily have to remain a private matter, but can be extended to apply to the whole community. The personal and private details related in the dream should be understood as an indication of the high value that certain segments of the Muslim community placed upon reciting the Qur an in a mellifluous way. By drawing attention to the reward bestowed upon a pious Muslim who trills his voice while reading the Qur an, the dream narrative establishes a basis for theoretical preaching and offers encouragement to others to perform this particular duty in daily life. In another narrative, a man appears in his brother’s dream and states that the best of all deeds is reciting the Qur an. He also specifies that the best part of the Qur an is the “throne verse” (ayat al-kursl, Q. 2: 255).“ The specification of one verse of the Qur an as the most perfect is a characteristic feature of the material that deals with the virtues of the Qur an (fadail al-Quran). It should be noted, however, that the fadail al-Quran literature rarely uses dream material. A different literary style is used in the following dream narrative: *Awf b. Malik al-Ashja‘1 (d. 73/692)26 reported that he saw himself, in a dream, entering a meadow in which there was a leather dome and some cattle. He asked to whom these belonged and was told that they belonged to 'Abd al-Rahman b. ‘Awf.27 He was also informed that this was God’s reward for those Muslims who occupied themselves with the Qur’an during their lifetimes (hadha alladhl a tana Allah bfl-Quran).28This dream is more colorful than the previous ones, and consequently more concrete and persuasive. Its purpose, however, is not different from that of the other dreams presented so far. They all focus on the diligent study of the Qur an, which guarantees forgiveness and bliss. 24. al-Qurtubi, al-Jami' li-ahkam al-Quran, 14: 320 (in the commentary to Surat al-Fatir, Q. 35: l); Ibn Abi ’l-Dunya, al-Manam, 130, no. 219. 25. al-Bajali, Fadail al-Quran, 91. 26. For biographical details and references to primary sources see al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 2 :487-90. 27. A central figure among the Sahaba, one of the ten whom the Prophet assured of Paradise. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar a'lam al-nubala, 1:68-92; see also Houtsma and Watt 1960, and the bibliography there. 28. al-Isfahani, Hifyat al-awliya, 1: 210; Ibn 'Abd al-Barr, al-lstfab, 1647; Ibn Abi ’l-Dunya, al-Manam, 16-17, no. 24; Ibn Manzur, Mukhtasar Tarikh Dimashq, 20: 26; Ibn al-Jawzi, Sifatalsafwa, 1:285; Ibn 'Asakir, Tarikh madinat Dimashq, 13:757; Ibn Hanbal, al-Zuhd, 167.
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Unlike the previous examples, other dream narratives place the Qur an far above the hadith. In one such dream, Yusuf b. Asbat (d. 195/810)29 saw Sufyan al-Thawrl (d. 161/777).30 When Yusuf asked Sufyan about the best of all deeds, Sufyan responded with one word: “The Qur’an .” Not satisfied with this response, Yusuf asked Sufyan what was the value of the hadith. To this Sufyan responded by turning his face away from Yusuf.31 In dreams, turning away one’s face is a literary convention that signifies disagreement or reproach. Here, by the gesture of turning away his face, Sufyan al-Thawrl expresses his dislike of the hadith. In one of his other dream appearances, Sufyan was asked how God had treated him, and he responded: “God forgave me even the search/my search for hadith” (afa anni hatta talab/talabi al-hadith), or—according to another version—“forgave my love for seeking hadith” (‘afa 'anni hubbi talab al-hadith).32In both dreams the study of the hadith is presented as a defect that diminishes Sufyan’s righteousness. This coincides with what Rabia al-‘Adawiyya the mystic (d. 185/801),33 Sufyan’s contem porary, used to say about him: “If only Sufyan did not love this world, that is to say the gathering of people around him for (discourse on) the Traditions, what a good thing it would be.”34 Reservations regarding the devotion to the study of hadith, espe cially long journeys in search of knowledge, are reflected in a set of dreams that involves ‘Abd-Allah b. al-Mubarak. After his death, ‘Abd-Allah appeared in a dream of Zakariyya b. ‘Adi (d. 211/826)35 and reported that God had forgiven him for his “traveling” (rihla).* The term rihla may refer either to a journey in pursuit of hadith (f[ talab al-ilm), or to going on jihad. Both meanings fit the details of Ibn al-Mubarak’s life; he took part in jihad expeditions37 and traveled extensively in search 29. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 9:169-71. 30. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 7:229-79. See also Lecomte 1978; Raddatz 1997, and the bibliography there. 31. al-Isfahanl, Hilyat al-awliya, 6:367; al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 7:279. 32. al-Isfahanl, Hilyat al-awliya, 6: 384; Ibn Abi ’l-Dunya, al-Manam, 31-32, no. 47; Ibn Abi Hatim, Taqdimat al-jarh wal-tadil, 121; cf. al-Isfahanl, Hilyat al-awliya, 6:367; al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 7; 279. For a thorough examination of the term talab al-hadith, see Goldziher 1971,164-88. See also ‘“Itm,” EP III: 1133-34. 33. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 8:241-43. See also M. Smith [Ch. Pellatj 1995, and Smith 1984. 34. Smith 1984,16, based on al-Makld, Qut al-qulub. See also note 95 below. 35. One of Ibn al-Mubarak’s students. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 10:442-45. 36. Ibn 'Asakir, Tarikh madinat Dimashq, 32:483; al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 8:419. 37. Ibn Hanbal, al-Zuhd wa’l-raqaiq, introduction, 52-53. See also the dream in which
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
of hadith.“ However, the meaning of the term rihla is specified in other versions of the same dream. In one version, ‘Abd-Allah responded with the words: “God forgave me for my traveling for hadith.”39 In another version ‘Abd-Allah b. al-Mubarak mentions hadith traveling as the occa sion for God’s forgiveness of him, but at the same time he recommends adherence to the Qur an.40 This addition, placed casually at the end of the dream, is essential. It transforms the purpose of the dream by elevating the Qur an to a position of primacy over the hadith. Although ‘Abd-Allah had been forgiven, he still emphasized that devotion to the study of the Qur an is of greater value than devotion to the study of hadith. Similarly, in another dream, when someone asked ‘Abd-Allah b. al-Mubarak for his opinion about the hadith, he responded with strong criticism (fa-dhammahu dhamman shadidan). He began to cry and, when asked why he was crying, he advised the dreamer to adhere to the Qur’an.41 ‘Amru b. Murra (d. 116-18/734-36)42reported that he was unsure whether to recite the Qur an or transmit hadith. He then had a dream in which he saw a person entering the mosque and carrying some clothing. The man passed by the people of the hadith, but did not stop. He continued walking, reached the people of the Qur an, and handed them the clothing. When ‘Amru woke up, he understood the message and made his choice accordingly: he began to recite the Qur an.43 The following dream has a similar purpose but a different literary setting: Harunb. Maruf (d. 231/845)44was a reliable muhaddith. He lived for seventy-four years, traveling extensively and collecting hadith. At a certain stage in his life, he became blind. One day he had a dream in which he heard a voice saying: “He who prefers the hadith to the Qur an will be punished” (man athara al-hadith (ala al-Quran udhdhiba). Upon Ibn al-Mubärak defines jihad as the best of all deeds (al-ZabldT, Ithäfal-säda, 10: 443; Ibn AbT ’l-Dunyä, al-Manäm, 47-48, no. 75; Ibn Manzür, Mukhtasar Tarikh Dimashq, 14: 31; al-Suyüti, Sharh al-fudür, 381; al-Bayhaql, Shuab al-Tmän, 4: 57; ibn al-jawzl, Sifat al-safwa, 4: 98; alDhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 8:419; al-Khatlb al-Baghdadl, Tarikh Baghdad, 10:168. 38. al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 8: 389; Ibn al-Mubärak, al-Zuhd wa’l-raqaiq, introduction, pp. 36-42. 39. al-Khatlb al-Baghdädl, Sharafashäb al-hadTth, 109. 40. al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 8:419. 41. al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, Tarikh Baghdad, 7: 180. See also Ibn ‘Asakir, Tarikh madinat Dimashq, 32:483 and its Mukhtasar, 14:31. 42. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar a'läm al-nubala, 5:196-200. 43. al-BasawT, al-Marifa wal-tarikh, 2:616. See also Kister 1974,83, n. 73. 44. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 11:129-30.
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hearing this, Harun interpreted his blindness as a consequence of his zealous adherence to the study of the hadith.4' This dream does not elevate the Qur an above the hadith, but rather calls for a balanced relationship: It regards the Qur’an as supreme, but does not deny the value of the hadith. It suggests that nothing is wrong with devotion to hadith as long as the muhaddith combines his eager ness for the hadith with that for the Qur an. Devotion to the study of hadith comes under censure only when it exceeds its proper bounds. This message was no doubt formulated in reaction to hadith transmit ters who regarded their occupation as their most important activity and who immersed themselves in it to the neglect of their other duties. A similar point is conveyed in a dream from a much later period. It centers on Abu Muhammad ‘Abd-Allah b. Ahmad, known as Ibn al-Khashshab (d. 566-67/1170-71),“ one of the leading scholars of his generation on grammar, hadith, and the Qur’an. Following his death, he was seen in a dream, saying that God had forgiven him and had allowed him to enter Paradise but, he added, God had turned away from him and from the scholars ( ulam a) who neglected their religious duties Carnal) and were preoccupied with words (qawl).47“Words” and “duties” are used here as opposites, and the message may refer to “talking” as opposed to “doing,” in the most general sense. These terms may also be understood more narrowly, as referring to the tension between pre-occupation with hadith and the performance of basic duties. Understood in this manner, the dream should be compared to the warning uttered by Shuba (d. 160/776)4* four centuries earlier: uHadith prevents you from remembering God (dhikr), from prayer, and from taking care of your kinsmen (silat al-rahim) ”49 The next dream alludes to another precaution that should be taken by hadith transmitters. Salama b. ShabTb al-Naysaburl (d. 246-47/86045. A widely circulated tradition. See al-Dhahabi, Siyar a lam al-nubala, 11:130; al-Qazwini, al-Tadmn fi akhbar Qazwin, 3: 344; al-MizzI, Tahdhib al-kamal, 30: 109; Ibn Hajar, Tahdhib altahdhib, 11:12; al-Khatlb al-Baghdadl, Tarikh Baghdad, 5:27,14:15; Ibn ‘Asakir, Tarikh madinat Dimashq, 51:222. 46. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 20:523-28. 47. Ibn Kathir, al-Bidaya wal-nihaya, 12: 269. The same narration without the last two words (wa-ishtaghalu bil-qawl) occurs also in the following sources: Ibn Rajab, al-Dhayl aid Tabaqat al-hanabila, 3:322-3; Yaqut, Mujam al-udaba', 12:52; al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 20:527. 48. Ibn al-Hajjaj. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see alDhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 7:202-28. 49. al-Isfahanl, Hilyat al awliya, 7:156; al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 7:213.
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
6 l)50 reported that when he was fifty years old and living in Mecca, he was asked to transmit hadiths. He did so for a while, but then he had a dream in which the Prophet prohibited him from transmitting hadiths. Salama complied with the Prophet’s instruction, and when ever the hadith people asked him to relate hadiths, he refused. At the age of seventy, Salama had another dream. Again he saw the Prophet, but this time the Prophet ordered him to go ahead and relate hadiths, explaining that it was the right time for it (fa-qad ana laka an tuhadditha). In the morning, Salama went to the mosque, gathered the hadith people and began to relate hadiths. The people were astonished at Salama’s behavior. Salama explained that he had previously stopped relating hadiths on God’s command, delivered through His Messenger in a dream, and he had now returned to hadith to fulfill the current divine will, also revealed through the Prophet’s words in a dream.51This dream suggests that there are times in a person’s life when hadith activities should be avoided, and other times when such activities are to be encouraged. The dream does not explain the logic behind this distinction, nor does it specify why Salama was prohibited from reciting hadiths for twenty years; rather, it emphasizes Salama’s total obedience. A possible explanation for ambivalence toward the study of hadith can be found in another dream, one of many in which we encounter the formula, “Someone appeared in my dream” (atäni ä& fl *l-manäm). An unnamed hadith collector who had a profound knowledge of hadith appeared after his death in a dream. When asked how the Lord received him, he did not answer. When asked whether God forgave him, he said “No,” and mentioned grave sins, while expressing hope for forgiveness. When asked specifically for his opinion about hadith transmitters, he answered that whenever the intention (niyya) was righteous, the deed is considered neutral (lamyakun laka wa-lä alayka).52It should be noted that the muhaddith1s name is not mentioned in the dream; rather, he is regarded as “one of our friends.” In such narratives the anonymous messenger serves as a vehicle for the deliverance of a divine truth.53 50. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 12:256-60. 51. Ibn ‘Asakir, Tarikh madinatDimashq, 22:79 and its Mukhtasar, 10:82. 52. al-Makkl, Qüt al-qulüb 1: 275-76, under the title, “A discussion of the superiority of the science of mystical knowledge and certainty over all other sciences and a presentation of the way of the ancient righteous scholars of both this world and the world to come” (dhikr f a d l 'ilm al-ma‘rifa wal-yaqin a lä sair al-ulüm wa-kashftariq ulama al-salafal-sdlih min ulamd’ al-dunyd wal-akhira) (l: 273). 53. For formulae used in dreams see Ibn Abi ’l-Dunya, al-Mandm, Introduction, 26-28. For the usage of figures as symbols in dream literature, see Kinberg 2000,439-40.
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This truth is so fundamental that it requires no identification with a specific historical figure. On the contrary, the identity of the bearers of this truth might diminish its importance and distract attention from the purpose of the narrative. In the last example, resentment against engagement with hadith is expressed in a straightforward manner. It is nevertheless mitigated by taking into consideration the virtuous intention (niyya) of the trans mitter. The dream is narrated in a manner that leaves the impression that the deceased, whoever he was, was obliged to say something in favor of hadith transmitters and, as a last resort, mentioned niyya as an excuse. Involvement with hadith, in his words, is neutral (literally “not for you, nor against you”) when the niyya of the transmitter is sound. Niyya in the sense of “authentic intention” plays an important role in the evaluation of hadith in general, and hadith transmitters in partic ular. Sufyan al-Thawri, for example, reportedly said: “No duty is prefer able to seeking hadith when the intention is correct” (ma min amal afdal min talab al-hadith idha sahhat al-niyya fihi).51 Here, the term niyya may signify rectitude as a prerequisite for a reliable transmitter or a pious Muslim, or both. Niyya can also refer to the process of collecting hadith, and signify that hadiths should never be collected for reasons of pride, or as a competitive activity. It seems, however, that the emphasis on the integrity of niyya as a solid base for the study of hadith did not prevent the manipulation or forgery of hadiths or arrogance and competitive ness among traditionists, behavior that was unwelcome and generated unfavorable observations about hadith. The next dream continues the same idea: After his death, Muhammad b. Muhammad b. ‘Imran b. Abi Layla reported in a dream that the best of all deeds is marifa (the suft knowledge or cognition).” Asked about people who use the technical terms haddathana and akhbarana, he replied: “I hate boastfulness.”56 The contrast between marifa on the one hand, and haddathana and akhbarana on the other, points to an important feature of the dispute between the ascetics and the traditionists of the second-third/seventh-eighth centuries, the core of which may be found in sayings attributed to Bishr al-Hafi (d. 227/842).” Bishr used to say about himself: “There is nothing better for the pious Muslim whose intentions are good than seeking hadith. 54. al-Qanujl, Abjad al-'ulum, 3:160; al-Isfahanl, Hilyat al-awliya, 6:366. For similar sayings ascribed to Sufyan, see al-Khatlb al-Baghdadl, Sharafafhab al-hadith, 81. 55. For different definitions and aspects of the term, see R. Amaldez 1991. 56. Ibn Abi ’l-Dunya, al-Manam, 126-27, no. 210; al-Suyutl, Sharh al-fudur, 371; al-Zabldi, Ithafal-sada, 10:447. 57. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam
Quran and Hadïth: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
I myself, however, ask God’s forgiveness for pursuing it.”58Bishr once admonished the traditionists by saying: “0 evil scholars! You are the heirs of the prophets!59They bequeathed their knowledge to you, but you have weaselled out of living by it. Instead you have made your learning into a trade to support yourselves. Aren’t you afraid to be the first into Hell?”60 Similarly, Fudayl b. ‘Iyâd (d. 187/803)61 criticized the ulama for associating with the Caliph and for renouncing wisdom in favor of worldly pleasures. Instead of “The ulama are the heirs of the prophets,” he read, “The hukama are the heirs of the prophets.”62
The Hadïth’s Supremacy Sufyân al-Thawrl appeared in a dream of ‘Abd al-Rahman b. Mahdl (d. 198/813)63 and declared that the best of all things is hadïth.MThis can be contrasted to the dream, mentioned above, in which the same Sufyân reported that he had been forgiven despite his search for hadïth. Conversely, Abü Bahr al-Bakrâwï (d. 195/810)65 reported that he had a dream in which one of his friends, a muhadditht appeared after his death and announced that he had been forgiven thanks to his search for hadïth.66The juxtaposition of these three dream narratives, all of which circulated in the second half of the second century A.H., points to a high degree of ambivalence toward hadïth among traditionists of that time. Other dream narratives in praise of hadïth and its people deal with figures of a later time. The earliest of these later figures died in 218/833 (fifty years after Sufyân), and the others belong to the fourth/tenth and fifth/eleventh centuries. Although this material falls outside of al-nubala, 10: 469-77. See also Cooperson 2000, 154-87, Meier 1960, and the bibliography there. 58. al-Dhahabl, Siyaralâm al-nubala, 10:472. 59. See note 89 below. 60. As translated by M. Cooperson in his informative examination of Bishr al-Hâfï in Classical Arabic Biography, 170 (see Tabaqât al-Sharânï, 1:74). See also Cooperson’s conclusions (185-87), especially the comparison of Ahmad b. Hanbal and Bishr al-Hâfï “as a synecdoche for the relationship between the Sufis and the Hadlth-community” (186). 61. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyaralâm al-nubala, 8:421-42; Smith 1965; Chabbi 1978,331-45. 62. al-Isfahânî, Hilyat al-awliya, 8:29, and see Chabbi 1978,340. 63. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyaralâm al-nubala, 9 : 192-209. 64. al-Isfahânî, Hilyat al-awliya, 9:4; al-Dhahabl, Siyar alarn al-nubala, 7:256. 65. ‘Abd al-Rahmân b. 'Uthman. For some biographical details, see Ibn Hajar, Tahdhîb altahdhib, 6:226. 66. al-Khatïb al-Baghdàdl, Sharafashâb al-hadïth, 109.
38
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the chronological scope of this study, the accounts are included here as further indications of the same debate and presented below in their chronological order. ‘All b. Mabad (d. 218/833)67 used to criticize and denounce the hadlth people. After his death he appeared in the dream of Harun b. Kamil, acknowledged his misjudgment while alive, and said that those who collected hadlth would attain God’s presence.68 Muhammad b. al-Khalll69reported that he had a dream in which the late Sulayman al-Shadhakunl (d. 234/848)70 appeared to him, looking well and in good spirits, a common motif to indicate that the person had entered Paradise. In the dream, Muhammad had asked Sulayman how God had treated him, and the latter had responded that God had forgiven him. When asked why, Sulayman mentioned the hadlth.71 This same Sulayman appeared in another dream, in which he again reported that God had forgiven him. He related the following story: Once, while on his way to Isfahan, it began to rain, and, with no roof over his head, he covered his books, probably hadlth books, with his body. For this, he explained, he was rewarded with God’s forgiveness.72 Al-Hakim Abu ‘Abd-Allah (d. 403/1012)73 had a dream in which he saw Abu l-Asbar (d. 365/975)" in a garden full of trees, carpets and flowing water. Astonished at the sight, the dreamer asked Abu l-Asbar how he had acquired all this: “Is it due to the hadlth?” Abu l-Asbar replied: “Yes, by God, I would not have been saved had it not been for the hadlth.”7' Abu Hamid b. al-Sharql (d. 325/936)76was known for his reliability as a transmitter of hadlth. So long as he lived, no one lied in the Prophet’s 67. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyar a lam al-nubala, 10:631-32. 68. Ibn 'Abd al-BarrJa m i bayan al-'ilm, 1:66. 69. Probably Abu Ja'far Muhammad b. al-KhalU al-Fallas al-Mukharriml (d. 269/882); for his biography, see Ibn Hajar, Tahdhib al-tahdhib, 9:151; al-Khatib al-Baghdadl, Ta’rikh Baghdad, 5:250-51. 70. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyar a lam al-nubala, 10:679-84. 71. al-Khatib al-Baghdadl, Sharafashab al-hadith, 109. 72. Ibn al-JawzT, al-Muntazam, 11: 214; al-Dhahabl, Siyar a'lam al-nubala, 10: 682; alQazwTnl, al-Tadwin ftakhbarQazwin, 4:102; al-Khatib al-Baghdadl, TartkhBaghdad, 9:48. 73. Known as Ibn al-Bayyi‘. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyar a lam al-nubala, 17:162-77. 74. ‘Abd al-'AzTz b. 'Abd al-Malik b. Nasr al-UmawT al-AndalusT. For some biographical details, see Ibn Manzur, Mukhtasar Tarikh Dimashq, 15:145. 75. al-Tilimsanl, Nafh al-tib, 2 : 1005; Ibn ‘Asakir, Ta’rikh madinat Dimashq, 36:315. 76. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyar a lam al-nubala, 15:37-39.
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
name. After his death he was seen in a dream, riding an animal larger than a donkey and smaller than a mule. He explained that he had been elevated on account of the hadith.77 Abü l-Qäsim al-Zanjänl (d. 471/1078)78 appeared in the dream of Thäbit b. Ahmad (d. after 477/1084)79and declared repeatedly that God would build a house in Paradise for the hadith people, one for each gath ering (majlis) in which they participated while still on earth.80 Muhammad b. Näsir Abu ’1-Fadl al-Baghdädl (d. 550/1155)81 was known for his wide knowledge of hadith and high reliability. After his death, he appeared in the dream of Abu Bakr b. al-Husri al-Faqlh82and reported that God had forgiven him and ten other traditionists (ashäb al-hadith) who were under his leadership.83 Each of these dream narratives makes a categorical statement about the hadith: the study of hadith leads the muhaddithin to Paradise and earns them celestial delights. None of these dream narratives supports its message with comparisons to other virtues, and the next narration should, therefore, be regarded as an exception: After Yazld b. Härün (d. 206/821)84 died, he was seen in a dream. In response to a question, he said that he had reached Paradise. Asked whether he was rewarded because of the Qur’an, he replied: “No, because of the hadith.”*5 An unequivocal preference for hadiths over the Qur an is rare; indeed, this is the only such example I have encountered. It should be under stood in relation to sayings that regard both the Qur an and hadith as divine sources. Hassan b. ‘Atiyya (d. 130/747)86 is reported to have said: “Gabriel revealed the sunna to the Prophet in the same manner by which 77. Ibn al-Nuqta, al-Taqyid, 165. 78. Sad b. 'Allb. Muhammad. For some biographical details, see al-Sam ani, al-Ansäb, 3: 168. 79. Abü ’1-Qäsim al-Baghdädl. For some biographical details see Ibn Manzür, Mukhtasar Tarikh Dimashq, 5:330. 80. al-Zabldl, Ithäf al-säda, 10: 445; Ibn Manzür, Mukhtasar Tarikh Dimashq, 9: 248; alSuyüti, Sharh al-fudür, 123; al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 18: 386; al-Dhahabi, Tadhkirat al-huffaz, 3:1175. 81. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 20:265-71. 8 2 .1 have not been able to identify this individual. 83. Ibn al-JawzT, al-Muntazam, 18:104; al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 20:270. 84. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyaralam al-nubala, 9:358-71. 85. Ibn ‘Abd al-BarrJ5mi‘ bayän al-'ilm, 1:124; Ibn Abi’l-Dunyä, al-Manäm, 155-56, no. 270; al-Khatlb al-Baghdädl, Sharaf ashäb al-hadith, 107. Cf. Kister 1974,83, n. 73. 86. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 5:466-68.
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he revealed the Qur an to him, and he taught him the surma in the same manner by which he taught him the Qur an.”17 Similarly, Sufyân al-Thawrî is reported to have said: “The angels are the guardians of Heaven and the people of the hadïth are the guardians of earth.”“ To these we can also relate the common sayings that specify the ulama as the heirs of the prophets/9or as models to imitate;90 and especially sayings that focus on the ability of the hadïth to support the Qur an. When 'Imrân b. Husayn (d. 52/672)91 was asked why he and his friends dealt with the hadïth rather than with the Qur an, he explained that the hadïth clarifies the actual performance of duties: the way to perform prayers, the haj/, or how to cut off a thief’s hand.92 As ‘Abd al-Rahmân b. al-Mahdl said: “A man needs the hadïth more than food and drink. The hadïth is the commentary on the Qur an.”93In light of the view that hadïth is essential for understanding the Qur an, constitutes a component of prophecy, and is of divine origin, we may wonder why we only rarely encounter dream narratives that treat the hadïth as superior to the Qur an.
Conclusion The variety of dreams presented here and the contradictory messages delivered therein raise questions about the literary form of dreams and their historical value. Nothing could be more private than dreams containing personal inquiries about compensation after death, each presented as an intimate conversation, and conveying inner feelings and anxieties regarding the other world. The purpose of these dreams, however, is neither to provide psychological insight nor to resolve the enigma of divine providence. 87. al-Khat!b al-Baghdâdi, al-Kifaya, 27. This may be examined in relation to hadïth qudsl See J. Robson 1971a; Graham 1977,51-79. 88. al-Khatîb al-Baghdâdï, Sharaf ashâb al-hadïth, 44. 89. [wa-anna/inna] al-'ulama [hum] warathat al-anbiya. For references, see Wensinck, Concordance, 4:321 Clm.); Zaghlül, Mawsua, 2:123,3:112,5:518; al-Khatlb al-Baghdâdï, Sharaf ashâb al-hadïth, 45-46 (notice the titles kawn açhâb al-hadïth khulafa’ al-rasül, 30; kawn ashâb al-hadïth awlâ al-nâs bi’l-rasül, 34; kawn açhâb al-hadïth umana al-rasül, 42; kawn ashâb al-hadïth humât al-dïn, 44; kawn ashâb al-hadïth awlâ al-nâs bi'l-najâh fi 1-âkhira, 56). See also Cooperson 2000, xii, 14,15. See the ironie usage of the same hadïth in words placed in the mouth of Bishr al-Hâfï; see note 59 above. 90. Fudayl b. ïyâd reproaches some muhaddithïn who were joking and laughing, and reminds them that they are the heirs of the Prophet and a model for the community (alIsfahànî, Hilyat al-awliya, 8:100; al-Dhahabï, Siyar a ’iâm al-nubala, 8:435). 91. al-Dhahabl, Siyaralâm al-nubala, 2:508-12. 92. al-Khatlb al-Baghdâdï, al-Kifaya, 31. 93. Ibid. For the first part see al-Isfahânî, Hilyat al-awliya, 9:4.
Quran and Hadlth: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
As a group, these dreams deliver short moral counsels following one basic pattern that may take on different forms. The person who dreams sees someone who has already died: a famous figure or an obscure one, a close friend or merely an acquaintance. He asks the deceased what God has done with him, and in return receives an answer, again usually brief. The dreamer may take the message delivered in the dream, considered to be of divine origin, as a reliable piece of advice on what is considered to be a recompensive deed, and apply it to his own life. The dreams examined above follow similar patterns and convey support for either the Qur an or the hadlth. This literary conformity highlights the difference of interests and exposes the use of dreams as a polemic device. We must not forget that dreams were formed in response to certain needs, and, as such, should be regarded as a reflec tion of the environment in which they were created. Thus, the existence of contradictory messages in different dreams points to a historical dispute. Moreover, the fact that dreams were used to supply ultimate solutions, and that dream evaluations were used as a basis for decisions,94 suggests that dreams of the kind presented in this study would not have been circulated unless there had been a need for them. Had there been agreement about the relative value of the Qur an and the hadlth, this issue would not have been raised in dreams. None of the dreams cited here examines the reasons for or the implications of what appears to be a disagreement over the relative status of the Qur an and the hadlth. As is characteristic of the hadlth literature in general, the dream narratives limit themselves to declara tions in favor of either the Qur an or the hadlth. No analysis is provided, and consequently hypotheses or conclusions remain to be drawn. One way to understand the struggle for supremacy between the Qur an and the hadlth is to consult sayings, mostly adduced in biograph ical sources, that are relevant to the issue. By compiling these sayings, we may gain a greater understanding of the motives behind the dreams, and thus shed some light on this controversy. In the preceding analysis, I used non-dream material to facilitate our understanding of the dream narratives. Here I will demonstrate how this methodology may help to develop a more comprehensive understanding of what seems to be a struggle between the two major authorities of classical Islam. As mentioned, Rabi a al-'Adawiyya reportedly criticized Sufyan al-Thawri for his love of the hadlth. As a mystic she emphasized the distractive element of the hadlth: “The seductive power of the tradi94. See further the following examples: dreams used to determine the reliability of traditionists and hadlth, Kinberg 1999; dreams that prefer one school of law over the other, Kinberg 1985; dreams that decide about the preferable Qur an readings, Kinberg 1991.
Leah Kinberg
tions is stronger than the enticement of property and children,” she said, a statement taken by Margaret Smith to indicate that “the study of the Traditions distracted him from the life with God even more than worldly possessions would have done.”95 In a similar manner, Abü Tälib al-Makkl explains that people refrained from writing down the hadith for fear that these books might distract their minds from the Qur an, from the remembrance of God and from thinking about Him.96The contrast between the Qur an and the hadith should be understood, therefore, as a tension between spiri tual experience and the process of learning; the first was achieved by clinging to the Qur an, the second through the devotion to hadith For süfis who devoted themselves to ascetic practices, involvement with hadith was a waste of precious time. As Michael Cooperson has shown, it was for this reason that Bishr al-Hafi decided to abandon the study of hadith.97 Ascetics were not the only ones who perceived hadith as dangerous. Yahyä al-Qattän (d. 198/813)98reported that Sufyan al-Thawrfs interest in hadith sometimes interfered with his prayers. Yahyä mentions this to clarify words he himself had said about Sufyan: “I have never seen a better person than Sufyan, were it not for the hadith..!199The fear that the love of hadith might interfere with some basic religious duties may also explain Sufyan’s declaration: “I am not afraid of anything that might lead me into Hell, except for hadith .”100 Eagerness for hadith might cause other problems: it might even undermine the credibility so crucial for every traditionist. Sufyan’s love for isnäds and traditions conquered his heart and made him transmit from weak transmitters: Shu'ba (d. 160/776)101said about Sufyan: “Sufyan is a good person, but he keeps ‘collecting’ (yuqammish),” meaning, according to Shu ba, “transmitting from anyone,” that is, transmitting from people without checking their reliability.102If we regard Sufyän as a typical muhaddith, it is possible to use this saying as evidence of the influence of hadith over the muhaddithin in general. This eagerness to 95. Smith 1984,16, and see note 34 above. 96. al-Makkl, Qüt al-qulüb, 1:326. 97. Cooperson 2000,168-70. 98. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 9:175-88. 99. al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala , 7: 267. See also al-Khatlb al-Baghdädl, Sharaf ashäb al-hadith, 120. 100. al-Dhahabi, Siyar aläm al-nubala, 7:255. 101. See note 48 above. 102. al-Khatlb al-Baghdädl, Sharaf ashäb al-hadith, 121.
Quran and Hadlth: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
collect hadlth reached a phase in which the muhaddithln were ready to listen to and to cite from anyone, no matter who the source was, so long as they could add one more report to their repertoire.103 This, of course, created an insoluble paradox: enchantment with hadlth, and, at the same time, awareness of its potentially fictitious aspects. The sense of being caught in a hadlth-trap underlies some of Sufyan’s extreme sayings: “The temptation of hadlth is stronger than the temptation of gold and silver,”104and “I would rather have my hand amputated than seek hadlth.”105It may also explain Sufyan’s exhortation to limit one’s acquaintance with people (aqilla min marifat/mukhalatat al-nas...). This exhortation is cited as a speech delivered either in a dream in which Sufyan appears,106or among Sufyan’s sayings.107It is also presented as words uttered by Dawud al-TaT (d. 160/776 or 165/781),10# Bishr b. Mansur (d. 160/776),109Bishr al-Hafi,110and Fudayl b. ‘Iyad,111and it appears as the second part of a verse of poetry recited by ‘Abd-Allah b. ‘Awn al-Hilall (d. 232/846).112Although often adduced under the topic of 'uzla (solitude), which implies refraining from any interaction with people, it can be understood as maintaining minimal contacts with 103. For descriptions of ludicrous methods of hadlth seeking, see Goldziher 1971, 2:132 (citing Abu ’l-'Ala al-Maarri), 171 (descriptions of al-Khatib al-Baghdadl as presented in his Kifaya), 172 (citations from al-Ghazalfs Ihya), and more. 104. al-Khatib al-Baghdadl, Sharafashab al-hadith, 120. 105. al-Dhahabl, Siyar alam al-nubala, 7:274. 106. For different versions see: al-MunawI, Fayd al-qadir, 3: 439; al-Isfahani, Hilyat alawliya, 6: 383; al-Ghazall, Ihya ulum al-din, 4: 428; Ibn Hanbal, al-‘Ilal, 2: 330; Ibn Shahln, alIshdrdt, 636; al-Zabldi, Ithafal-sada, 10: 436; al-MunawT, al-Kawakib al-durriyya, 1:118; Ibn Abl ’l-Dunya, al-Manam, 31, no. 45; Ibn STrin, Muntakhab al-kalam, 409; Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyya, al-Ruh, 36; al-Suyuti, Sharh al-sudur, 377; al-Darini, Taharat al-qulub, 56; al-NabulusI, Takmtl al-nuut, 174b, 175a; Ibn al-Nuqta, Takmilat al-ikmal, 1:491; Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr, al-Tamhid, 17:444; Ibn AblHatim, Taqdimatal-jarh wal-tadil, 120; al-Khatib al-Baghdadi, TarikhBaghdad, 12:432; Ibn Abl ’l-Dunya, al-Tawadu, 120, no. 89. 107. al-Munawi, Fayd al-qadir, 1: 500; al-I§fahani, Hilyat al-awliya, 6: 389,7:8; al-Dhahabi, Siyar alam al-nubala, 7 :276. 108. al-l$fahanl, Hilyat al-awliya, 7:343; al-ZabidT, Ithafal-sada, 6:332; Ibn al-jawzl, Sifat al$afwa, 3:65; al-Khattabl, al-Uzla, 84. Dawud al-TaT is known more for his saying: “Avoid men as if they were lions” (al-Isfahani, Hilyat al-awliya, 7: 342, 345; al-Zabldi, Ithafal-sada, 6: 332; Ibn al-Jawzi, Sifat al-safwa, 3:65; Ibn Abl Ya'la, Tabaqat al-Hanafiya, 1:538; al-QazwInl, al-Tadwin ft akhbar Qazwin, 1:284). 109. al-Isfahani, Hilyat al-awliya, 7: 289, 6: 241; al-Dhahabl, Siyar alam al-nubala, 8: 361; Ibn Abl ’l-Dunya, al-Tawadu, 119, no. 37. For biographical details and references to primary sources, see al-Dhahabl, Siyar alam al-nubala, 8:359-62. 110. al-Khatib al-Baghdadl, Tarikh Baghdad, 3:321. 111. Ibn ‘Abd al-Barr, al-Tamhid, 17:445. 112. al-Khattabl, al-Uzla, 130.
Leah Kinberg
the people of the hadïth. In the present context, I regard it as one more saying that conveys negative feelings toward the hadïth.113 Thus, two main factors underlie the argumentation against extreme devotion to hadïth: the fear that vigorous efforts to collect hadïth might divert people from their daily activities and religious duties, and the chance that an urgent desire for hadïth would turn into an obsession and deprive the muhaddithïn of their ability to restrict themselves to sound traditions. In this context, the development of criticism against hadïth seems only natural. It is no wonder, therefore, that dream narra tives, a genre that served to preserve and to disseminate ideas and emotions, contributed to the devaluation of the study of hadïth. At the opposite end of the spectrum, one can find dreams that express support for the study of hadïth and regard this activity, above anything else, as ensuring the muhaddith a place in Paradise. I have examined those dreams, and especially the sole example that values hadïth as superior to the Qur an, in relation to statements that consider the hadïth as a part of prophecy and as a commentary on the Qur’an. In this article I have not mentioned the legal aspects of this debate. Although these dreams may be analyzed as alluding to the central legal question of whether the Qur an abrogates the sunna or vice versa,114such a perspective does not necessitate the rejection of other possible expla nations. I would rather suggest that the diversity of ideas presented in these dreams reflects each one of the points raised above. The contra dictory dreams and sayings examined here reflect different phases of the inner feelings of the Islamic community in the first three centu ries of its existence. It was a period that witnessed not only an appar ently unstoppable multiplication of hadïth, but also the development of a judicial system and a strict set of moral and ascetic rules. What seems to be a struggle for supremacy, therefore, does not necessarily vindi cate one side and censure the other, but rather articulates the different needs of various individuals and groups. 113. A discussion of the relationship between ‘uzla and hadïth transmission, the latter nourished by interaction with people, would take us beyond the scope of this study. 114. al-Ash'arï, Maqâlât al-islâmiyyïn, 2:277-78.
Quran and Hadith: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
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Quran and Hadlth: A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
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Kister, M. J. (1974), “The Interpretation of Dreams: An Unknown Manuscript of Ibn Qutayba’s “Ibärat al-Ruyä\” IOS 4: 67-103. Lecomte, G. (1978), “Sufyän al-Thawrl: quelques remarques sur le personnage et son oeuvre,” Bulletin d’études orientales 30:51-60. al-Maklcï, Abü Tâlib (1995), Qût al-qulüb fi muâmalat al-mahbüb, 2 vols., Beirut. Meier, F. (i960), “Bishr al-Häfi,” in: EP 1:1244-47. al-MizzI, Yüsuf b. al-Zakl ‘Abd al-Rahmän (1980), Tahdhib al-kamäl fi asma al-rijäl, 35 vols., Beirut. al-MunäwT, ‘Abd al-Ra uf (1938), al-Kawäkib al-durriyya fi taräjim al-säda al-süfiyya, Cairo. ------ (1357/1938), Fayd al-qadir: Sharh aljäm i al-saghir min ahädith al-bashir al-nadhir, Beirut. Muqätil b. Sulaymän (1983), TaßirMuqätil b. Sulaymän, Cairo. Muslim b. al-Hajjäj al-Qurashl, Abü 1-Husayn (n. d.), Sahih Muslim, Beirut. al-NäbulusT, ‘Abd al-Ghanl, Takmü al-nuut f i luzüm al-buyüt, MS 774, Mingana Collection, Manchester. al-Qanüjl, Siddlqb. HasanKhän (1978), Abjadal-ulümt 3 vols.,Beirut. al-Qazwml, ‘Abd al-Karlm b. Muhammad al-Räfi‘T (1987), al-Tadmn fi akhbär Qazwin, Beirut. al-Qurtubl, Abü ‘Abd Allah Muhammad b. Ahmad (1987), al-Jämi li-ahkäm al-Qafän, Beirut. al-Qurtubl, Abü ‘Abd Alläh ‘Umar b. Ahmad (n. d.), al-Tadhkira fi ahwäl al-mawtäyCairo. al-Qushayrï, ‘Abd al-Karlm (1987-88), al-Risäla al-Qushayriyya fi Him al-tasawwuf, Beirut. Raddatz, H. P. (1997), “Sufyän al-Thawrl,” in: EP IX: 770-72. Robson, J. (1971a), “Hadith kudsï,” in: EP III: 28-29. ------ (1971b), “Ibn al-Mubärak,” in: EP III: 879. al-Sam anl, ‘Abd al-Karlm b. Muhammad (1988), al-Ansäb, Beirut. al-Sha‘ränI, ‘Abd al-Wahhäb b. Ahmad (1373/1954), al-Tabaqät al-kubrä al-musammä bi-Lawäqih al-anwärfi tabaqät al-akhyär, 2 vols., Cairo. Smith, M. (1965), “al-Fudayl b. ‘Iyäd,” in: EP II: 936. ------ (1984), Räbia the Mystic and her Fellow-Saints in Islämt Cambridge. Originally published London, 1928; reissued with a new introduction, 1984. Smith, M. [Ch. Pellat] (1995), “Räbia al-‘Adawiyya al-Kaysiyya,” in: EP VIII: 354-56. al-Suyütî, Jaläl al-DIn (1987), Sharh al-sudür bi-sharh häl al-mawtä wa’lqubür, Beirut and Damascus.
Quran and Hadlth A Struggle for Supremacy as Reflected in Dream Narratives
------ (1408/1988), Bushrä al-kaib bi-liqa al-habib, al-Zarqa, Jordan. al-Tilimsänl, Ahmad b. Muhammad al-Maqqarl (1968), Nafh al-tib min ghusn al-Andalus al-ratib, 8 vols., Beirut. al-Tirmidhl, Muhammad b. Tsä (1938), al-Jämi al-sahih, 3 vols., Cairo. al-YafiX ‘Abd Allah b. As‘ad (1955), Rawd al-rayyähln ft hikäyät al-sälihln, Cairo. Wensinck, A. J. and J. P. Mensing (1936-64), Concordance et indices de la tradition musulmane, Leiden. Repr. 1988. Yäqüt b. ‘Abd Allah al-HamawI (1980), Mujam al-udaba: Irshäd al-arlb ilä marifat aZ-adib, Beirut. al-Zabldi, Murtadä Muhammad b. Muhammad (n. d.), Ithäf al-säda al-muttaqln bi-sharh Ihya ulüm al-dlnf 10 vols., Beirut. Zaghlul, Muhammad al-Sa‘Id (1414/1994), Mawsuat aträf al-hadlth al-nabamal-sharlf, Beirut.
How Aristotle Came to Believe in God-given Dreams: The Arabic Version of De divinatione per somnum1 R otraud
E. H ansberger
that Aristotle was generally held in high esteem by medieval Muslim philosophers, to see his name respectfully mentioned as an authority on dream interpretation (as for example in al-DInawarfs Kitdb al-Tabir ftl-ruyd) comes as a surprise.2 After all, what Aristotle did in his work De divinatione per somnum (On divination through sleep) was nothing less than to reject the idea of God-sent dreams, and to think instead of ways to explain the occur rence of veridical dreams on purely scientific grounds, treating them as natural phenomena. Dream interpretation itself, though mentioned approvingly as an important tool of medical diagnosis, is not given much attention in the work, and in any case must lose much of its splendor within a rather prosaic theoretical framework. How, therefore, could Aristotle acquire such a reputation? The treatise De divinatione per somnum is part of Aristotle’s Parva Naturalia,3 a collection of short treatises that belongs to Aristotle’s psychological writings and, in the traditional order of his works, follows directly after De Anima. The Parva Naturalia are devoted to phenomena “common to soul and body”;4 they contain treatises on sense percep tion, memory, sleep and waking, dreams, divination in dreams, length and shortness of life, as well as on the phenomena of youth, old age, life e s p it e t h e fa c t
1. An earlier version of this article was presented at the First International Symposium of Classical Islamic Studies at the Middle East Center, University of Pennsylvania, in March 2003. It draws mainly on my Master’s thesis, The Arabic Version o f Aristotle’s “De divinatione per somnum ” (University of Oxford, 2002). 2. al-DInawan, Kitdb al-Tabir fi l-ru’y a, 1:115. 3. Standard editions: W. D. Ross, Aristotle: Parva Naturalia A Revised Text With Introduction and Commentary, Oxford, 1955, repr. 2001; P. Siwek, Aristotelis Parva Naturalia graece et latine. Edidit, versione auxit, notis illustravit Paulus Siwek 5. J., Rome, 1963. For De somno et vigilia, De insomniis, De divinatione per somnum see also D. Gallop, Aristotle on Sleep and Dreams. A Text and Translation with Introduction, Notes and Glossary, rev. edn., Warminster, 1996. 4. De sensu et sensibilibus, 436a6ff.; cf. Ross, Aristotle: Parva Naturalia, 1.
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HowAristotle Came to Believe in God-given Dreams
and death, and respiration. In Arabic, the Parva Naturalia are known as Kitab al-Hiss (al-Hass) wal-mahsus, the title of the first treatise (De sensu et sensibilibus) being used for the collection as a whole. Several medieval Arabic and Hebrew texts refer to, or quote, what Aristotle says about dreams and divination in Kitab al-Hiss wal-mahsus. Some of these quotations have already given rise to the suspicion that the version of De divinatione per somnum transmitted in Arabic must have been quite different from the Greek text we know.5However, it was only in 1985 that Hans Daiber discovered a copy o f Kitab al-Hiss wal-mahsus itself in a seventeenth-century manuscript in the Raza Library, Rampur (India).6 This text can finally provide an answer to the question of why Aristotle could be regarded as an authority on divinatory dreams and their interpretation. Many important questions relating to this text will have to be addressed within a comprehensive study of Kitab al-Hiss wal-mahsus as a whole. The aim of this article is to present first results of my research on those passages of Kitab al-Hiss wa l-mahsus that correspond to De divinatione per somnum. The first part of the article will focus on the theory of divinatory dreams contained in the text; in the second section it will be demonstrated that the text preserved in MS. Rampur 1752 indeed represents the Arabic De divinatione per somnum that was known to, and quoted by, several medieval Muslim and Jewish authors.7
I. The Arabic Version of De divinatione per somnum in MS. Rampur 1752 MS. Rampur 1752 is incomplete. Two folios are missing at the begin ning of Kitab al-Hiss wal-mahsus, and the copyist does not reveal the name of the translator of the Parva Naturaliar nor that of the author of a commentary which is inserted into the text. Linguistic evidence so far points to a rather early translation probably produced in the ninth century C.E.8 The overall structure of Kitab al-Hiss wal-mahsus differs from that of the Greek Parva Naturalia in that it represents only six of its trea tises, which are divided into three maqalat. Moreover, the three trea5. Cf. Pines 1974,104-53. 6. MS. Rampur 1752; see Catalogue o f the Arabic Manuscripts in Raza Library, Rampur, 4 :534f. Cf. Daiber 1986,39,43 (n. 133); id. 1997,29-41.1 am currently preparing a critical edition and study of the whole text. 7. Pace Daiber 1997,38-39. 8. The issue of dating the translation will have to be addressed with regard to the whole text of Kitab al-Hiss wal-mahsus.
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tises De somno et vigilia (On sleep and waking), De insomniis (On dreams), and De divinatione per somnum (On divination through sleep) are represented in the Arabic version by one single chapter within the second maqala, Bab al-nawm wal-yaqaza. While the larger part of it (foil. 21r-40r) corre sponds to De somno et vigilia, the remaining pages (40r-47v) are devoted to the topic of dreams, particularly veridical dreams, without there being a clear separation between a part on dreams and a part on divina tion in dreams. One could therefore say that these pages represent both De insomniis and De divinatione per somnum together—at least as far as it is justified to speak of “representation” at all in this case. It is a general feature of the whole Kitdb al-Hiss wa’l-mahsus that large parts of it cannot be regarded as a translation of the Greek Parva Naturalia. More than half of the text is constituted by more or less lengthy passages that have no equivalent in the Greek text. This is particularly striking in the case of the second part o f Bab al-nawm wal-yaqaza: only traces of the Greek De insomniis and De divinatione per somnum can be found in the Arabic text. More importantly, the Arabic version takes a view on veridical dreams quite contrary to that of the Greek De divina tione. I will outline Aristotle’s account briefly before turning to a more detailed description of the main doctrine of the Arabic version.9
De divinatione per somnum in the Greek Parva Naturalia Aristotle does not deny the existence of veridical dreams, that is, the phenomenon that people may dream of events which later take place in reality. What he sets out to do in De divinatione is to give a rational expla nation of veridical dreams that does not need to resort to the assump tion of divine intervention,10and to argue directly against the theory of God-given dreams.11 Aristotle gives three possible explanations for the phenomenon of veridical dreams: l) Dreams can be signs of processes beginning in the human body, which are so faint they are only perceptible during sleep when stronger impressions are absent. Event and dream share the 9. I refer to the second half of Bab al-nawm wal-yaqaza as “the Arabic version of De divinatione per somnum" (“the Arabic De divinatione” for short). This appears justified not only because De insomniis is even less visible in the Arabic text than De divinatione per somnum, but also because the Arabic version focuses on the topic of divinatory dreams rather than on dreams as such. 10.462b26-463bll; 463b31-464b5. 11.463bl2-31.
How Aristotle Came to Believe in God-given Dreams
same cause. For example, an illness may announce itself in this way.12 2) Dreams may be the causes of the events they “predict.” A dream may (unconsciously) prompt a person to do what he or she has dreamt of.13 Not all dreams in these two categories will actually be fulfilled since other, stronger causal factors may interfere.14 3) Most “fulfilled” veridical dreams, however, must be put down to pure coincidence.15 Towards the end of the treatise, Aristotle considers an alternative explanation for this third category of veridical dreams. He mentions Democritus’ (ca. 460-ca. 370 B.C.E.) claim that veridical dreams arise from images that are emanating from bodies. In a variation of this theory, Aristotle suggests that events, or even thoughts in people’s minds, cause small wave-like motions which are eventually passed on to others through the air; these motions are perceived during sleep only because there is less disturbance at night than during the day. Ordinary people have more veridical dreams than the intelligent and wise, because their minds are vacant and therefore more receptive to these small wave-like motions.16 This last point is also what serves, for Aristotle, as the main objec tion against the view that veridical dreams are sent by God: God would send such dreams only to the wisest and most intelligent of people, whereas it is in fact ordinary people who usually have veridical dreams.17 There is nothing extraordinary about it: if people are naturally disposed to have many dreams (as is the case with melancholic people, according to Aristotle), it is only likely that they will sometimes hit the mark. As for dream interpreters, they must be able to recognize “similarities.”18 What Aristotle seems to have in mind are cases where the causal relations between dream and “predicted” event are not obvious; that is, dreams which do not depict their cause (or their effect) directly. 12.463a3-21. 1 3.463a21-31. 1 4.463b22-31. 15.463a31-bll. 1 6.463b31-464b5. 17. 463bl5f., 462b20ff. Aristotle presents this as an evident fact; cf. van der Eijk 1994, 53-54,61 (n. 45). 1 8.464b5ff.
Rotraud Hansberger
The Arabic version of De divinatione per somnum By contrast, the Arabic version never even questions the assump tion that the ultimate source of veridical dreams is God: divination in dreams is not only possible, but a fact of life. The text’s account of veridical dreams, or dream-vision (ruya) focuses on two main points: the “creation” of such dreams by God, and the processes that are taking place within the human soul when having veridical (or non-veridical) dreams. G od
as th e originator of dream - vision
In the Arabic De divinatione, the occurrence of veridical dreams is explained within a metaphysical framework that combines ideas of several Greek philosophical schools, as well as concepts associated with monotheistic scriptural religion.19 God as supreme cause and creator stands at the top of the metaphysical hierarchy, followed by the (Universal) Intellect, which mediates between God and the souls of living beings. Everything that exists is created by God once in the Intellect, and then in its corporeal form in the world. As a result, the Intellect already contains everything that exists, or is going to exist, in the physical world. In a veridical dream, the Intellect reveals part of what has been created within it to the souls of human beings disposed to receive such a vision: (i) MS. Rampur 1752, fol. 42r ;20