M6:3039 — اختران بسیار و خورشید ار یکیست / پیش او بنیاد ایشان مندکیست

Translation: Though the stars are many and the sun is one / Before it, their very foundation is annihilated (mandakisht). Meaning: This verse asserts that apparent multitude and sheer numbers become null and void when confronted with the singular, absolute truth and the true source of power.

Here, we encounter a profound articulation of the nature of power and influence, delineating the crucial distinction between apparent multiplicity and intrinsic unity. Rumi, in this verse, delivered within the tale of Ja'far Tayyar's battle against King Qobad's armies, speaks through the voice of Qobad's minister. The minister, witnessing Ja'far Tayyar's unwavering resolve and courage, confesses to the king that true strength resides not in the numerical superiority of an army, but in the 'collectedness of spirit' (jam'iyat-e khāter) and the 'divine craft' (ṣonʿ-e ḥaqq) bestowed upon him by God. He recounts: "When my eye saw that great one's face / The multitude of numbers fell from my sight." He then offers this analogy: "Though the stars are many and the sun is one / Before it, their very foundation is annihilated (mandakisht)."

The word mandak derives from the root indekāk, signifying dissolution, collapse, and disintegration. This term immediately recalls the Quranic verses narrating God's manifestation upon Mount Sinai: "When his Lord revealed Himself to the mountain, He made it crumble to dust (jaʿalahu dakkā) and Moses fell down unconscious." The mountain was dakk—it crumbled. However, as I have argued elsewhere, this 'crumbling' was within Moses' vision and mystical unveiling, not a literal physical destruction of the mountain. Similarly, here, the stars do not disappear but are absorbed by the sun; their foundation collapses, losing their existential meaning. This 'foundation' (bonyād) stems from the Persian root bon rather than the Arabic bunyān, pointing to the very root and essence of being. In the sun's presence, the very root and essence of the stars' existence become insignificant and meaningless.

Rumi elucidates this concept through other analogies as well. He refers to thousands of mice who, despite their numerical strength, pose no threat to a single cat. Why? Because "there is no collectedness within their souls" (nist jam'īyat darūn jānashān). It is here that Rumi establishes a fundamental distinction between 'collectedness of form' (jam'īyat-e ṣūrat) and 'collectedness of meaning' or 'collectedness of soul' (jam'īyat-e jān). The sheer number of bodies and individuals, by itself, does not denote power; rather, it is 'pressure' (feshār) and 'nonsense' (yāveh). As he says: "What is this babble and talk and nonsense? / Stuff cotton in your mouth!" Bodies, like names, are fleeting and flimsy; they are conventional and lack a true foundation. Unless hearts unite, unless souls achieve collectedness.

If the mice possessed 'collectedness of soul,' then they would "charge forth like a fadāyī." This alludes to the Ismaili fadāyān, whom Rumi also praises elsewhere—not for their specific doctrine, but for their 'life-gambling' (jān-bāzī) and 'fearlessness' (bi-parvā'ī) in the pursuit of their beliefs. He refers to the martyrs of Karbala as "light-souled lovers" (sabok-rūḥān-e ʿāsheq) who readily relinquished their lives. This 'light-souledness' and 'fearlessness' is the very state that empowers an individual to shine like a sun amidst apparent multiplicity, making the foundation of many disintegrate. True power lies not in the size of an army, but in the 'unity of heart' and 'firmness of soul' that arise from divine creation and collectedness of spirit.

Key takeaways

• True power originates in qualitative unity and inner collectedness, not in numerical quantity or external appearance.
• An individual endowed with 'collectedness of spirit' and divine support can overcome a multitude of baseless forces.
• Spiritual manifestations and occurrences (such as the 'annihilation' of foundation) are often internal and experiential, not necessarily physical.
• Rumi admires the courage and 'life-gambling' in the pursuit of belief, regardless of the belief's nature, viewing it as a sign of 'light-souledness'.
• External foundations and structures (bodies) are as transient and flimsy as names; it is the 'collectedness of soul' that provides true solidity.