THE ASSASSINS OF ALAMUT: APPENDIX 1

Home page: www.acampbell.org.uk

ISMAILI THEOSOPHY

The Ismaili world view was remarkably rich and complex. It cannot accurately be called either a philosophy or a theology but has features of both of these and is best referred to by the term theosophy, in the older sense of "divine wisdom". Ismailism must indeed have a strong claim to be one of the most remarkable speculative systems ever devised. To understand it you have to be prepared to make an imaginative leap into a conceptual universe which at first seems utterly remote from our own. And yet the Ismaili's motives were in some ways surprisingly similar to those of science. They sought to understand the world and our place within it; they made use of the information and concepts that lay to hand, and from these they built up a complex and all-embracing cosmology. They thus are a supreme example of what I have called the Casaubon complex.

Many influences played a part in shaping the Ismailis' world view, but three stand out in particular: first, the belief that the Koran contained an esoteric significance; second, the "science" of the day, especially astronomy (and astrology), which could also be understood esoterically with the help of the Ismaili interpretation of religion; and third, Neoplatonism, which provided the philosophical underpinning for the whole system. These three strands were interwoven to give a rich and remarkably coherent pattern.

The Ismaili principle of esoteric interpretation

The Ismailis were Muslims, even though heretical ones in the eyes of the Sunnis, and the Koran lay at the centre of their thinking. But in common with other Shiite sects the Ismailis were not content to dwell on the surface meaning of the text but made use of a subtle and elaborate method of textual exegesis, called ta'wil, which led them into a strange and exciting world that reminds me of the "fictions" of the Argentinian writer Jorge Luis Borges. Every verse of the sacred book, indeed every word and even every letter, is found to have an esoteric significance, the batin, which is additional and complementary to the exoteric, surface, meaning, the zahir. This quest for inner meaning in sacred texts was, it is true, a widespread obsession in the Middle Ages, and it can be found to some extent in Christianity as well, though it never became institutionalized among Christians as it did among the Ismailis; it is only on the fringes of Christianity, in the writings of Boehme or Swedenborg, for example, that a comparable intensity of purpose is to be found.

It may seem strange that the Ismailis should have believed that God had concealed his meaning in this abstruse manner. But the idea that Truth must not be given out recklessly to all and sundry but may be revealed only to those who are ready to receive it was widespread in the ancient world; we find it, for example, in Jesus's use of parables to simultaneously convey and conceal his meaning. This important principle was reinforced in the Ismailis' case by the need - in a predominantly hostile Sunni environment - to dissimulate and conceal their ideas. the concept of dissimulation (taqiya) was important for the Ismailis, and they frequently made use of it both to protect their doctrines from hostile critics and to interpret the otherwise inexplicable behaviour sometimes exhibited by religious figures such as the Imam. If people acted in a way that appeared incompatible with their status, it was always possible to explain it as dissimulation.

The idea that the Koran contains different levels of significance was not peculiar to the Ismailis but was common to all the Shitte groups. The Shiite writers speak of there being four levels of meaning in each verse of the Koran: the first is the surface meaning, the second is the level of the allusion, the third is the occult sense, and the fourth is the level of spiritual teachings. These four levels are intended for different audiences: the first is for ordinary Muslims, the second is for the elite, the third is for the Friends of God (the "Inner Circle" of humanity), and the fourth is for the Prophets. A saying attributed to Ali, the First Imam, also gives four levels of meaning as contained in the Koran: the first is for oral recitation, the second is for interior comprehension, the third sets out thos things that are allowed and those that are not, and the fourth indicates the effect that God intends to produce in man by the verse in question.

A slightly different analysis, this time into three levels of significance, comes from the fourteenth-century Syrian Ismaili called Abu Firas (Chapter 4). As I mentioned briefly in Chapter 3, he compares the structure of religion to that of an egg. The shell is the exoteric aspect (zahir), which protects the delicate interior. The white is the esoteric aspect (batin), but inside this lies a still deeper truth (the batin of batins) corresponding to the yolk. Having given us this analogy, Abu Firas expands it. The shell symbolizes the physical body of man, the white his soul, and the yolk his Highest Principle. In terms of the senses, these three levels are related respectively to hearing, sight, and the heart (here regarded as a spritual sense-organ). The exoteric aspects of religion are apprehended with the ears, the esoteric with the eyes, and the Secret of Secrets with the heart.

By a typically Ismaili extension of the idea, the three levels of understanding also have a cosmological reference. The first level corresponds to the physical world and the earth element; the second level to the world of religion and to water; the third to the spiritual world and to air. But even this third level is concerned merely with knowledge of Reality, not with Reality itself; only prophets have access to Reality, through direct acquaintance with the Mystery. This faculty depends on the immediate reception of divine inspiration via the brain and corresponds to the fire element, which is too burning for ordinary mortals to withstand.

It might be thought that the attempt to find esoteric interpretations of the Koran would be a comparatively late idea, but there are indications that it goes back to the very beginnings of Islam - indeed, to Muhammad himself. This is suggested by a saying attributed to one of the most famous of Muhammad's Companions, Abdallah ibn Abbas. Once, while speaking to a large group of men about a verse of the Koran (6/12) which deals with the creation of the seven heavens and seven earths, Abdallah cried out: "O men! If I commented on this verse in the way I have heard it explained by the Prophet himself, you would stone me."

Although the Koran had a central role in Ismaili speculation, however, the search for esoteric significance was not confined to its pages. The method could in principle be applied to any field of knowedge, and in practice it often was. The Ismailis believed that the whole of nature has an esoteric significance, if only we have eyes to see it. Thus, there are are seven planets, seven apertures of the body, seven cervical vertebrae, and so on. Such facts were regarded by the Ismailis as having the utmost occult significance. It was as if God had constructed the universe as a gigantic cryptogram, or intelligence test, to which he had provided the key in the Koran. But to use the Koran to solve the cosmic riddle one had to understand how it worked, and only the Ismailis possessed the requisite knowledge.

The Arabic language, being the raw material, so to speak, out of which the Koran was constructed, also contained vital clues to the organization of the universe, and here tha analogy with a cipher system is particularly close. for example, the Divine Command which give rise to creation is represented by the Arabic letters kaf (k) and nun (n). Two letters are needed because all creatures come together in pairs in order to reproduce; this represents a fundamental lawo the universe. The letters k and n are chosen because of their numerical values in the "abjad" system, according to which each letter in the Arabic alphabet is assigned a number equivalent. The value for k is 20 and that for n is 50, giving a total of 70 (10 x 7, the key Ismaili number).

The symbolism can be extended further. Between kaf and nun in the alphabet come lam (l) and mim (m). K and n symbolize respectively the First and Second Intelligences (to be discussed shortly), from which proceed Matter and Form, symbolized by l and m. L and m can also symbolize the Prophet and the Imam, or emanation and the return to the source; the list of possible correspondences can easily be extended, but those I have mentioned will give an idea of the Ismaili method of exegesis. Vital though it was, however, the search for occult significance in the Koran and in Nature was only one aspect of the Ismailis' intellectual activity. Another was the attempt to formulate their insights philosophically, and for this they drew heavily on Neoplatonism.

Neoplatonism and the concept of levels in Ismailism

Neoplatonism is a modern term coined to refer to the version of Platonism inaugurated by Plotinus (204-270 CE). Plotinus lived in Alexandria, but after his death his pupils carried his ideas to other places, notably Athens, where they continued to be taught until the School was closed by Justinian in 529. At about the time the Athenian School was declining (fifth and early sixth centuries), Neoplatonism was reintroduced in Alexandria, and Neoplatonic philosophers were active there when the city was captured by the Arabs in 641 CE. In about 720 the School moved to Antioch and in about 900 to Baghdad, and it thus had a direct influence on Islamic thought.

It was, however, far from being the only route by which Neoplatonic ideas reached the Arabs. Another was Syriac translations of Greek texts, and still another was the so-called Theology of Aristotle, which had immense authority because of its supposed authorship. It was however a forgery, being made up of extracts from Plotinus's "Enneads" padded out with material perhaps derived from Porphyry's lost commentary on the "Enneads". Another Neoplatonic work, the "Elements of Theology", almost certainly by Proclus, was also translated into Arabic and eventually reached thirteenth-century Scholastic authors such as St Thomas Aquinas and Albertus Magnus as the "Liber de Causis".

Both these books fully expound and discuss the doctrine of emanation: that is, the view that the One gives rise to the world in a hierarchy of stages of manifestation, starting with the subtlest, most ethereal, level and ending with the material world. They also contain the idea of a return to the One, all the desires of of earthly creatures being in reality a longing for the One from which they come.

So far as Plotinus is concerned, we know that the concept of the One was not merely a philosophical speculation but derived from an actual experience. Plotinus himself says that he attained this experience many times, and his biographer Porphyry tells us that his master attained it four times in the six years that he knew him; Porphyry himself attained it once. The experience in question seems to be what has been described by the philosopher W.T. Stace as the "introvertive" mystical experience, meaning a condition in which first awareness of outer stimuli is lost, then all mental images, and finally the whole process of thought comes to a stop. Consciousness is not lost, however; the individual remains awake but with nothing to experience. This condition is described as a state of "pure awareness" - pure in the sense that it lacks any content save consciousness itself. Techniques of meditation exist that are intended to bring this state into being.

Even if we accept that this state is logically possible (not everyone does), the question remains: does it "mean" anything? The average modern Westerner, who has been brought up to distinguish sharply between the "real" objective world "out there" and the inner subjective world, may well feel that a "trance" state of this kind is a flimsy basis on which to found a philosophy. However, such experiences appear to underlie not only Neoplatonism but also other systems such as Advaita Vedanta in India, in which the state of pure awareness is believed to provide direct experience of the nature of reality. We don't know for certain that the Ismailis cultivated methods for attaining the state but their concept of Emanationism suggests that they may have done.

The essential idea of Emanationism is that everything that exists is produced by the One in a timeless act of generation. It is not that the One created the universe at a time in the past (the Big Bang, perhaps); rather, it gives rise to the universe outside time, for time itself is created by the One.

This idea contains an essential paradox. The One does not merely give rise to the universe, it actually is the universe. At the same time, the universe obviously consists of a multitude of different things. Here, then, is one statement of a basic paradox: the universe is simultaneously One and Many. Another way of stating the same paradox is to say that although the One gives rise to the universe, it remains quite separate and unaffected and nothing happens to it at all. When we pour wine from a bottle the bottle becomes empty, but this is not true of the One, which never changes at all. It is the Absolute ground of being.

The Ismaili version of the central mystical paradox

The Ismaili authors sometimes use the Neoplatonic term "the One" to refer to the Absolute ground of being. They also call it Allah and Bari. Whatever name is used, the essential point is that it is totally unknowable by any creature, even the very highest. Indeed, it should not really be named at all, for every name is composed of letters, and letters, being created things, cannot designate That which is beyond all conception. (It is tempting to see here an echo of the Jewish idea that the true name of God cannot be uttered.)

The unknowable, then, is the source of all creation, yet it is totally uninvolved with creation. How, then, does it give rise to the universe? The answer is that it does not; and yet, creation does after all occur. This is again the central paradox. We cannot say anything about how creation happens, because it is prior to logic and inaccessible to it. We are therefore in the situation of the author of the thriller serial who, having landed his hero at the end of one instalment in an impossible predicament from which there was no conceivable way of escape, began the next instalment with the masterly sentence: "With one bound Jack was free". Creation simply happens, by virtue of a Divine Command (amr or Word (c.f. the Logos of the Fourth Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word"). In so far as we can think about God at all, we are compelled to do so in terms of the Word.

A closely related concept is that of the First Intelligence, or Universal Reason. Many Ismaili authors, in fact, seem to regard the Word and the First Intelligence as identical. The First Intelligence, therefore, is the link between the unknowable Absolute and the universe. But we must not forget that this statement contains a mystery and a paradox, for it is also true to say that no such link exists.

The First Intelligence is not part of creation; rather, it is the act of creation itself, by virtue of which the universe comes into being. The first manifestation of the universe is the Second Intelligence, also known as the First Emanation and the Universal Soul. Below the Second Intelligence come further Intelligences, giving a total of 10 Intelligences (9 Emanations).

Notice particularly that the universe proper begins with the First Emanation (Second Intelligence); this is important for the Ismaili doctrine of the Fall, discussed below.

Each level is a world of its own, peopled by Forms of light (or archangels). The universe is thus conceived of as a hierarchy of spiritual planes, each with its appropriate denizens. (There is nothing as yet in this scheme about our physical world. To account for the existence of this the Ismailis, as we shall see in a moment, invoked the doctrine of the Fall.)

For each level of the hierarchy, the one above represents a boundary which it would be impious to attempt to cross. Divinity lies always on a higher plane, and longing for union with the Divine tends to draw beings always upwards, towards the Source. A very interesting point brought out by H. Corbin is that the Ismailis derive the Arabic word lah (God, as in Al-lah from a root which conveys the idea of sadness and longing, as of a wanderer in the desert; similarly the Arabic letters that represent the word meaning "divinity" can also be read as meaning "sighing, desire". This is a deeply mystical idea, and it is fundamental to the Ismaili scheme. The occupants of each level of the hierarchy always long to move upwards, and this applies to human beings too. The goal of Ismailism is to provide the means whereby this cosmic desire may find fulfilment.

Running through Ismaili thought is the notion that true existence belongs to God alone, and that any reality which created beings and things possess is, so to speak, lent to them by God and is therefore ultimately illusory. The Persian writer Suhrawardi expresses this idea in a mystical novel, in which he says that the archangel Gabriel has two wings. The right wing is pure light and is turned towards God, while the left wing bears a dusky mark like the reddish tint sometimes seen in the moon or on the foot of a peacock; this wing faces away from God, towards non-existence. The two wings correspond to the First and Second Emanations respectively; the First Emanation is pure light, but the Second is sullied by the darkness of non-existence. From one aspect, therefore, Gabriel exists, but from the other he is non-existent. This means that in himself he is nothing, and his existence depends on God.

Throughout Ismaili theosophy this insistence on the nothingness of created things and beings is emphasized again and again. Everything is ultimately God and nothing but God. Here is an Ismaili address or sermon, evidently preached by one of the Imams.

"The Prophet of God has said: `He who knows his own soul knows God', and he has also said `You shall know God through God himself'. By this he means that you are not you; he alone is you and it is through him that you exist. `He does not unite with you or you with him'; he does not become separate from you or you from him': by these words he does not mean to affirm your existence or to say that you have such-and-such properties; quite the contrary. He means that you have never existed and never will exist except through your soul; never by your own person, which is nothing. Therefore you cannot be either annihilated or caused to exist; if you know this, you know God ... ."
There is also a hint in this text to suggest that the Ismailis were using techniques for inducing mystical experience.

"Whoever dies a mystical death witnesses the disappearance of his essence and his attributes. Here are the words of the Prophet: `Die before you die,' which means: `Know your souls and know the nothingness of your existence, if you wish to see the Being of the True Existent'."

The metaphor of dying is commonly used by mystics to describe the progresive abandonment of ordinary awareness which occurs in the introvertive mystical experience.

The Ismaili version of the Fall

The Ismaili version of the Fall is quite different from that which most Christians are familiar with (and which derives ultimately from St Augustine). Before time began, the Ismailis say, the First Intelligence issued a Proclamation or Summons to all the Forms of Light that occupied the various levels of the hierarchy. The word used for this Summons (davat) is important, because it is also applied to the Ismaili preaching on earth, which is thus regarded as a reflection or copy of the archetypal Summons in heaven. (The word is still in common use in modern Persian to mean simply "invitation".) The Universal Soul - the First Emanation - obeyed the Divine Invitation, but the Chief Archangel of the Second Level (the Third Intelligence) became confused in some way and refused. The exact reason for his refusal is unclear, but according to H. Corbin it was a failure to recognize the "boundary" constituted by the Universal Soul above him; this failure led him to try to reach God directly, which amounted to thinking that he himself was divine. His "sin" seems in fact to have been an error in theology. As a result of his mistake he was relegated from the second rank to the lowest of all, the tenth, while all the others moved one step up. (Notice that the interval from the Third Intelligence to the Tenth Intelligence is seven, the Ismaili mystic number.)

The erring archangel did not fall alone. With him at the second rank had been a number of other beings, and they fell into the same trap as he, misled by his bad example, so they had to accompany him to the tenth level. Realizing his mistake too late, the fallen archangel told his companions that the only way they could regain their former station was by following his orders and obeying the Intelligences whom they now found above them. Perhaps not unreasonably, most of them refused to listen to him, and the most recalcitrant of all went so far as to incite rebellion. This was the future Satan. "The archangel," he said, "has brought all this trouble on us; we merely did what he did himself. Now that he has landed us in this mess he wants to drag us into something even worse." Most of the other Beings agreed with him, but some rejected his arguments and others were uncertain what to do. The brilliance of those who rejected the archangel's authority became darkened and they were plunged into ignorance.

Realizing that if they remained as purely spiritual beings they would never be able to extricate themselves from their confusion, the archangel determined on a plan to liberate them. He made himself the Demiurge (a kind of minor creating deity) and created the material world to serve as the means by which these beings could regain their former status and enlightenment. It seems that the inertia of the material world is in some way necessary for redemption, rather as the presence of the atmosphere is necessary for the flight of a bird or an aircraft even though it is also a source of resistance that has to be overcome.

Were it not for the Fall, then, the material world would not exist. We could almost say that the material world is a collective illusion produced by our distorted vision. Rashid al-Din Sinan, the great Nizari chief in Syria during the period of the Resurrection, is quoted as saying: "Were it not for our passionate attachment to material things, there would exist God and nothing but God." This doesn't merely mean that we fail to see God because we are attached to the pleasures of this world. Sinan's point is more radical: the very existence of the world is due to our ignorance of our own true nature, which is God.

The former archangel of the second level, now become the Demiurge of our world, is the Celestial Adam, of whom the various Terrestrial Adams (for there are many such in the Ismaili scheme) are copies or reflections.

The Celestial Adam's companions were overcome by panic when they found themselves being overtaken by the darkness of the material world that Adam had created. They felt themselves to be drowning in matter, and from the struggles they made to resist being overwhelmed came the three dimensions of space. The densest material occupied the centre, while the substances of lesser density took up their relative positions as the various spheres of the Ptolemaic universe, which thus consists of eleven concentric layers. The earth is at the centre, and is surrounded by a shell of air; together these make up the lower, sublunary, world, which also contains the infernal regions. This is the realm of change and decay. Outside the earth come the nine celestial spheres: the seven "planets" (Moon, Mercury, Venus, Sun, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn), the sphere of the fixed stars (the Zodiac), and finally the outer enclosing sphere. Each of the celestial spheres is under the tutelage of one of the Emanations.

Within this great concept of the universe as the means by which the cosmic return is to be effected, human life finds its meaning and purpose. We, indeed, are at the heart of the process of return, for we are the fallen Adam's companions. Moreover, every creature, indeed every created thing, is part of this process, and the world will endure until everything has returned to the Source. There is an interesting similarity here to the Mahayana Buddhist idea that all sentient creatures must eventually gain enlightenment, but the Ismaili position is even more radical, for even the mineral kingdom seems to be included. Thus we find the great Sufi poet Jalal al-Din Rumi, who may have been influenced by Ismaili ideas (Chapter 6), saying that he has died and been reborn successively as a mineral, a vegetable, an animal, and a man; why, then, should he fear to die again, since he will be reborn at a still higher level?

Human beings are midway between the material and the celestial worlds, and our nature partakes of both of these. Our animal nature draws us downwards, towards hell, while our souls incline upwards, towards heaven. This is why animals walk on all fours, with bent backs, while plants - even worse - have roots that actually penetrate the earth. Man, on the other hand, walks upright. (Birds, presumably, should be even more enlightened than men, but the Ismailis don't seem to have drawn this inference.)

Man's relationship to the other inhabitants of the earth is a reflection of the relationship of the Universal Soul to the rest of creation: that is, man (the microcosm) is the universe (the macrocosm) writ small. The Universal Soul governs the universe; Man, likewise, commands the creatures of the material world. By the same token he is responsible for their welfare and enlightenment. For the Ismailis, everything interlocks, and every level reflects the others. Ismailism thus accords well with modern notions of the ecological significance of human activity.

The Return to the Source

The Ismailis had a detailed explanation of the way in which the cosmic return is even now being accomplished. This process came about, they believed, in a cyclical manner, through the agency of prophets and their helpers. The first prophet was the first Terrestrial Adam, who was generated by cosmic forces. As the earth developed, it was acted upon by the various celestial spheres which enclosed it. Each sphere exerted its influence for a thousand years, until at the beginning of the seventh cycle the Moon brought into existence the first human being and his companions. (This is a good example of the Ismaili principle of esoteric interpretation, here applied to the seven days of creation specified in Genesis.)

The first Terrestrial Adam appeared in Ceylon, and he had twenty-seven companions, who were the manifestations on the material level of those Forms of Light who received the Celestial Adam's preaching favourably. The first Terrestrial Adam had many of the qualities of his celestial counterpart: he was sinless and perfect, and he transmitted these qualities to all the later Imams. During his rule men lived in Paradise and saw spiritual truths directly, not through the wall of symbolism as at present. He sent twelve of his companions to the various parts of the world, and inaugurated the series of historical cycles which has continued ever since.

When he appointed his successor, the first Terrestrial Adam went to the Tenth Level to replace the original Celestial Adam, who now moved on level up. (It is not clear what happened to the occupants of the Third Level; there seems to be nowhere for them to go.) This celestial game of Musical Chairs will continue until the whole cosmic situation is restored to its original condition.

The first Terrestrial Adam was, as I have said, merely the first of many subsequent Adams. Each Adam rules for 1000 years. Units of this duration are grouped together in cycles of seven. The first prophet of the 7000-year cycle - the Adam of that cycle - inaugurates a period of openly revealed truth, during which men live in a paradisal state. During the rule of his six successors, however, truth is hidden, and men have to follow an exoteric religious law, until at the end of the 7000 years comes the renewal of the paradisal state by the New Adam; this is the Resurrection (qiyama) - which of course took place at Alamut.

Each prophet (natiq) has a Companion called the Wasi (executor). The Wasi, together with a further six successors, make up the seven "silent" Imams (so called because they do not add anything new to what the prophet has taught). Different Ismaili authors explain the relation between prophet and Imam in various ways, but in general it appears that the prophet is responsible for the law and the exoteric aspects of the faith, while the Imam teaches inner spiritual truth.

The 7000-year cycles are themselves grouped into larger cycles of 7, which therefore each contain 49,000 years. The end of each large cycle is marked by a major Resurrection. There will eventually come a time when the whole sequence comes to an end and creation is restored to its original state. The time given for this is sometimes said to be 360,000 x 360,000 years. This figure is of considerable interest; see Appendix 2 for a discussion of the possible reasons why it was chosen.