In the Name of Allah; the Entirely Merciful, the
Especially Merciful
Continuing on the theme of Finality of Prophethood, Iqbal
mentions the views of Ibn Arabi (d. 1240):
“It is further claimed on the authority of the great Muslim mystic,
Muhyuddin ibn Arabi of Spain, that it is possible for a Muslim saint to attain,
in his spiritual evolution, to the kind of experience characteristic of
prophetic consciousness.” (Islam and Ahmadism; p. 23)
In fact, not only Ibn Arabi, but many Sufis or Muslim “mystics” advocate
this view. One may even argue that it is a view that is essential to Sufism.
The reader should keep in mind that Sufism focuses on the experiential. The
Sufi is the person who wants to experience a living relationship with God
remnicient of the ancient Prophets. However, Iqbal argues that: “the Qadiani
argument is based on a complete misunderstanding of his exact position. The
Shaikh [Ibn Arabi] regards it as a purely private achievement which does not,
and in the nature of things cannot, entitle such a saint to declare that all
those who do not believe in him are outside the pale of Islam.” (p. 24)
We have already satisfactorily responded to Iqbal’s false straw-man argument
here that the founder of the Ahmadiyya movement expelled from Islam any Muslim
who does not believe in him. Rather, he stated:
As for Iqbal’s assertion that Ibn Arabi regards the saint’s attainment of “prophetic
consciousness” as a “purely private achievement”, the fact of the matter is
that none of the great Sufis, mystics, and saints in Islamic history were
isolationists who did not have a calling to share the fruits of their
spirituality and gnosis with the rest of the Ummah. On the contrary, they were
people active in preaching and teaching the public, taking disciples, gathering
circles of followers around them, and travelling from place to place in the
capacity of missionaries. Major Ulama (learned divines) of the Ummah did the
same, but the difference is that the Ulama were recognized for their academic
knowledge, especially in the fields of theology, jurisprudence, and law,
whereas the Sufis attracted people to themselves through their piety,
asceticism, miracles, and strong connection with God. This is not to say that
the two categories are mutually exclusive. In orthodox Ahlus Sunnati wal Jama’ah,
the two categories were in fact blended together, since the ideal Sufi or
mystic is also a person of deep knowledge concerning the outer aspects of the
Religion, such as law and jurisprudence, and the ideal ‘Alim (academic) is
likewise a person of great piety, asceticism, and spirituality, and having deep
knowledge of the inner aspects of the Religion, such as purification of the
heart.
Furthermore, the orthodoxy, or Ahlus Sunnati wal-Jama’ah, hold the
eschatological figures of the promised Imam or Mahdi, and Jesus during his
second advent, to be men of the highest spiritual calibre within the Ummah.
They are regarded as superior in terms of spiritual attainment and “prophetic
consciousness” than any other Muslim saint or mystic. And it is a given that
the figure of the Mahdi, for example, will not restrict his “prophetic
consciousness” to being a “purely private achievement”. He will be a major
public figure within the Ummah, indeed its very Imam (leader and guide), to
whom the Ummah will, as a religious duty, owe him the oath of allegiance.
Hence, Iqbal is again proven wrong when he states: “while it is psychologically
possible for a saint to attain to prophetic experience, his experience will have
no socio-political significance making him the centre of a new organisation”
(p. 24). How does Iqbal explain the orthodox Muslim conception of the Mahdi and
Messiah, who will undoubtedly, according to their conception, have a great “socio-political
significance” as a direct result of their “prophetic experience” and not in
spite of it.
Of course, Iqbal personally rejected the “Messianic” idea, and even says
concerning the view of Ibn Arabi now under discussion: “I personally believe
this view of Shaikh Muhyuddin ibn Arabi to be psychologically unsound” (pp. 23 – 24). Indeed, as we have previously mentioned, Iqbal was anything but an
orthodox Muslim. He was a materialist, naturalist, and modernist. Nevertheless,
the foundation of Iqbal’s argument against Ahmadism is that, being an
alleged rejection of a core doctrine of Islam, it represents an internal threat
to the solidarity and social cohesion of the Ummah. Yet we have proven and
continue to prove that Ahmadism, at least as expressed in the writings
and teachings of its founder Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, does not at all diverge from
Islamic orthodoxy concerning any principle of Islam. The only real difference
boils down to either an acceptance or rejection of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad as either
a person truly attuned to God or not. The opposition that Ghulam Ahmad faced
from the orthodox Ulama and Sufis, therefore, should be understood more as an
opposition rooted in religious rivalry and not as opposition that is
fundamentally doctrinal or theoretic. It is a common thing in the Sufi world
for various orders and groups to oppose each other over personality, since
personality reverence is a major aspect of Sufism. A Sufi or mystic making a
grandiose claim concerning himself, such as that he is conversant with God, or
that he receives inspiration through the Angels, or that he can produce extraordinary
feats and miracles, may be attacked by his orthodox rivals not on the basis
that such claims are tantamount to heresy, but on the basis that the claimant
is a charlatan who seeks fame and glory for himself.
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