M6:1382 — رحمة الله علیه گفته است / ذکر شه محمود غازی سفته است

Translation: May God have mercy upon him, he (Attar) has said; He has threaded the account of Shah Mahmud the Ghazi like precious pearls. Meaning: This couplet attributes a narrative concerning Sultan Mahmud Ghaznavi to the poet Attar, emphasizing the skillful and delicate crafting of the story.

Here, Rumi refers to Attar, saying, "May God have mercy upon him, he (Attar) has said." The reference is to a story in Attar's Musibat-nameh (Book of Affliction) concerning Sultan Mahmud Ghaznavi. The phrase "He has threaded the account of Shah Mahmud the Ghazi like precious pearls" is highly astute; "threading" refers to the delicate act of piercing and stringing pearls. Poets used this expression to commend the elegance and beauty of their own language, implying Attar crafted the story of Mahmud with the precision and artistry of stringing precious jewels.

Sultan Mahmud Ghazi was a formidable and fanatical warrior-king, known for his conquests, especially in India. He styled himself "Ghazi" (a warrior for faith), and his reign was, without doubt, a dark era for thinkers and dissenters. He relentlessly persecuted philosophers and Mu'tazilites, burning their books. Though unlettered, he held rigid Karamiyya religious beliefs (which posited God as corporeal) and executed anyone not aligned with his views. His notorious betrayal of Ferdowsi, withholding payment for the Shahnameh due to alleged Shi'i beliefs, further illustrates his cruel and ruthless character. Yet, Rumi and Attar employ this fearsome figure in an allegorical tale.

Attar's story, to which Rumi alludes, recounts a Hindu slave boy captured during one of Mahmud's campaigns. Mahmud, captivated by the boy's beauty, seated him beside him on the throne, even making him his temporary caliph. However, the smiling boy on the throne began to weep. When Mahmud asked why, the child explained that in India, his mother would always curse him, saying, "May you fall into the hands of Mahmud Ghazi!" His father would then chastise the mother, asking, "What kind of curse is this, that you kill your child with a hundred swords?" Now, the boy was bewildered: this benevolent Mahmud, was he the same fearsome Mahmud of his mother's curse?

Rumi uses this story not only to illustrate "man's inverted perception" in distinguishing blessing from bane but also to convey a deeper meaning. He likens Sultan Mahmud to faqr (spiritual poverty, or humanity's true need for God) and the terrifying mother to tabʿ (base desires and carnal inclinations). Our tabʿ constantly frightens us from faqr and our dependence on God, unaware that this "Mahmud of faqr" is far from terrifying; rather, he is the most generous and merciful, the ladder to our spiritual ascent and progress. There is no escape from faqr; when faqr "hunts" you, you too will weep like that child, not from fear, but from astonishment and wonder at its benevolence.

In this context, allow me to address a common misconception in certain Sufi interpretations. The portrayal of the natural world as a "pit" or "prison" leading to ascetic renunciation of the world is, in my view, a "misleading" (rāhzan) path. Neither sacred law nor reason tolerates such an extreme. Imam Ali (AS) in Nahj al-Balagha referred to the world as "the marketplace of God's saints" (matjar awliyāʾ Allāh), and the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) called it "the farm of the Hereafter" (mazraʿat al-Ākhirah). We must cultivate and enrich this "farm" and "marketplace" — which encompasses our life, body, soul, and abilities — rather than kicking it away or devaluing it. The body is a crucial vehicle; while excess in carnal desires can turn it into an enemy of the soul, this does not mean disregarding its potential for spiritual elevation. A healthy body can empower us, and a sick body compels us to seek healing and action. The issue is maintaining moderation and making proper use of this divine gift, not denying or denouncing it.

Key takeaways

• Rumi recounts the story of Sultan Mahmud from Attar, highlighting the delicate artistry and beauty of Attar's narrative style.
• The historically ruthless Sultan Mahmud becomes, in Attar's and Rumi's allegory, a symbol of humanity's complex "inverted perception" of reality.
• In Rumi's interpretation, Sultan Mahmud personifies faqr (spiritual destitution/need for God), while the terrifying mother symbolizes tabʿ (carnal desires) that frightens humans away from true good.
• Faqr, though seemingly intimidating, is in essence the most benevolent guide for the soul's elevation.
• Dr. Soroush rejects the common Sufi portrayal of the world as a "pit" or "prison," emphasizing instead the Quranic view of it as "the farm of the Hereafter" and "the marketplace of God's saints."
• The body and the world should not be condemned; they are crucial "vehicles" for spiritual growth and perfection that must be valued and utilized wisely.