M6:3671 — کان طبیبان هم‌چو اسپ بی‌عذار / غافل و بی‌بهره بودند از سوار

Translation: Those physicians were like a horse without a bridle (ʿadhār), Unaware and unbenefited by the Rider. Meaning: This verse suggests that experts and scholars who are fixated solely on superficial appearances and natural causes remain oblivious to the ultimate Cause and hidden divine providence, thereby being deprived of the deeper truth.

This verse from Rumi's Masnavi presents a profound parable, inviting us to discern between observing mere 'effects' and perceiving the true 'causes' – or, to put it differently, between 'seeing the horse' and 'seeing the Rider.' Rumi portrays physicians who came to heal the ailing handmaiden but saw only the outward symptoms and natural causes. They were like a horse without an ʿadhār (bridle), ignorant of the agile and masterly Rider upon its back, focusing only on the bit in their mouth and the bruised hooves from long journeys. They failed to realize that it was a 'swift trainer' (rāyiz-e chust) and 'Beloved-willed Rider' (savār-e dūst-kām) who propelled them hither and thither.

I find this analogy exceptionally eloquent and precise. Rumi here critiques the 'naturalist' perspective, which is entangled in 'secondary causes' (band-e sabab) and thus veiled (maḥtūjab) from 'God's stratagem' (makr-e yazdān), meaning divine providence and power. He asserts that this nature, this very horse, is ridden by God. A physician who meticulously feeds the horse, grooms it, shoes its hooves, and tends its wounds performs commendable service; yet, they remain oblivious to the fact that the horse does not move of its own accord. Someone must ride this horse, and this Rider remains unseen by them. This limited view, fixated on incidental causes, is akin to the 'amblyopia' Rumi spoke of earlier: 'In hunger, you must have been amblyopic, / To have seen one as a hundred thousand.' An amblyopic person perceives unity as multiplicity, and here, the singular Cause of all causes is lost amidst a myriad of incidental reasons.

This thought of Rumi's bears a striking resemblance to the Ashʿarite theory of causality. The Ashʿarites, and particularly Ghazali in Tahāfut al-Falāsifa, contended that there is no inherent secondary causality in the natural world; rather, everything originates from God through a chain of primary causation. They argued that fire does not inherently burn cotton; it is God's custom to create burning whenever fire is placed beside cotton. Ghazali's vivid example – that if you tie a horse in a stable and return, you might find a donkey in its place – illustrates their rejection of intrinsic continuity and causality in nature. Rumi, in this verse, follows a similar philosophical thread: 'With every mover, there is a Mover.' We observe the 'mover,' but remain heedless of the ultimate 'Mover of the mover.'

It is fascinating that, from an epistemological standpoint, Kant later elaborated on this very point, suggesting that continuity and causality in nature are not so much 'discovered' as they are 'constructed' and 'imposed' by our minds. We construct a world in which causality exists, and we project this onto our experience. Rumi, through his mystical language and parables, encapsulates this very complexity within our beyt. He declares that the apparent world is merely the arena for the actions of a swift Rider; if we fail to perceive the Rider, we will see only the bridle, the wounds, and the aimless wandering of the horse. This is not merely a critique of a reductionist scientific outlook but an invitation to uncover the hidden, divine dimension governing all existence.

Key takeaways

• Apparent causes often obscure the ultimate Cause of existence.
• The natural world is like a horse ridden by God; the heedless fail to see the Rider.
• True insight requires moving beyond observing effects to perceiving their ultimate cause.
• Every mover has a Mover; every phenomenon has a Creator.