Voices of Islam (103 page)

THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FATIMA AL-YASHRUTIYYA

I was born in 1891 and raised in my father’s
zawiya
—that of the Shadhiliyya Yashrutiyya in Acre, Palestine. When I was born, my father was 100 years old. This occasion caused much celebration in our house and in the
zawiya,
for my honored father did not have many surviving children. He passed on to the next world when I was just eight years old. There was a woman in our
zawiya
who was thought by all to be a very pious person, so when my mother gave birth to me, my father went to her and said, ‘‘I would like you to give me a blessed name for my child, which I have at last been given.’’ She replied, ‘‘Is there any name more noble than that of your grandmother and ancestor,
Sayyidatuna
(Our Lady) Fatima al-Zahra’, the daughter of the Prophet?’’ Thus, I was honored with that noble name.

It was always a source of pride and happiness to me that I bore a great physical resemblance to my father. I was given the same shape of face and

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cheekbones, similar facial features and nose, and a white complexion. My hands, with their long fi and fair complexion, are also inherited from him. Anyone who saw me as a child knew that I was the Shaykh’s daughter on account of our great likeness. The
zawiya
in Acre was a meeting place for men of learning and law, of Sufism and gnosis. Ever since my eyes fi saw the light of day, I found myself living among these learned men and attending study circles, spiritual counsels, and meetings of scholars and jurists. My father favored me and by his kindness to me directed me toward those fields of religious education that emphasized religious sciences and Sufi and that encompassed outward and inward knowledge. For this reason, he allowed me to sit in the circles of Sufi learning where he spoke and which the most learned theologians attended. I began to do this regularly when I was four years old. I was the only child and the only female who devoted herself to lessons of this sort. My father was well aware that he would eventually leave my sister and me alone in the world, so he wanted me to begin my pursuit of knowledge of religion and Sufism, to which my life was to be devoted in the future. This explains the extraordinary attention with which he guided me toward these subjects.

Our life at home in the time of my honored father was one of happiness, lightheartedness, and well-being—a life of simplicity and ease, with few com- plications. Illuminated by the light of faith and good works, it was a life of learning and mystical striving, of worship and nobility of character. My father was a most holy irradiation of the Divine Essence, endowed with the nature of the Messenger of God, walking in his footsteps through all the stations of outward and inward perfections, not lingering at any one of them, but understanding the truth in all of them. He was heir to the Muhammadan nature in all its perfection, immersed in the overfl wing bounty of the divine ocean, and a perfected, divinely inspired guide. He was an example of devotion toward his parents and family, a generous and noble husband, a gentle and kind father, and a man whose humanity encompassed both men and animals with gentleness and mercy. During the course of his life he married four times, but he never had more than one wife at a time. He had a great respect for women and recognized their rights and duties; moreover, he made efforts to raise their level of knowledge and learning. When he married my honored mother, after his former wife had passed away, she was illiterate so he appointed a private tutor for her to teach her to read and write. After her lessons he used to teach her something of Islamic law, Hadith, Sufi and the like, encouraging her to work and serve God, striving in His path toward perfection. Thus, my mother attained, by her human and spiritual striving, the highest station in relation to the divine.

My father’s concern with raising the level of women’s spiritual knowledge was not confined to his wives, daughters, and granddaughters alone. In our house, religious lessons were held daily, which were attended only by women. My father used to choose a book and a subject, and ask a woman

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teacher named Sayyida Umm Isma‘il al-Dimashqi to give the lesson. Often, he would attend the session himself and offer explanations. It was obligatory for all members of our house, as well as those in isolation, visitors, and those living nearby to attend the religious lessons, and it was also obligatory for all the women of our house, even children, to pray five times daily. Every child over the age of seven years had to pray, fast, and recite the litany (
wird
) of the Yashrutiyya Sufi order. We had a special room in our house for chanting verses of the Qur’an, where we went every morning, each with her own copy. One of us would read a portion of the Holy Book aloud; then each would read whatever amount she could accomplish by herself in a voice so low it was almost a whisper, and after this we would all leave to carry out our house- hold duties. A number of women from the important families of neighboring towns used to visit us. One of the first women to receive an initiation from my father was from this group.

The circles of invocation that took place in the
zawiya
were for men only, for my father said, ‘‘Circles of invocation are for men, not women.’’ However, this did not mean that women in the
tariqa
were cut off from the practice of invocation. Every year in Ramadan we prayed the extra prayers in our house, with my father assigning for us a leader in prayer. After the night prayer and the voluntary prayers, we women would recite the litanies of the Shadhiliyya Sufi order together and then listen as a part of the Qur’an was recited. The house in which we lived during the life of my father and afterward was not only a place of residence, like other homes, but was also like a mosque, in which the five daily prayers were performed and the Qur’an was read in the intervals. My father lived just as the other disciples did in his home: praying, reciting litanies, and giving himself up to worship and obedi- ence, but in addition he was a guide to lead people toward God. He only ceased reciting the litanies with others after he had passed his hundredth year. My sister Maryam once asked him, ‘‘Honored father, do you still recite the litanies at your great age, and in your spiritual station?’’ He replied, ‘‘The Messenger of God used to keep vigil at night until his feet were swollen, even after God had forgiven him his former sins and those that were to come. When he was asked about this, he said, ‘Am I not, then, a grateful servant?’’’ In the same way, my father never ceased to get up at night for prayer and vigil up until the night before he passed on to the Eternal Abode. He spent his time in worship of God night and day, eating and sleeping but little, and living for God and in God. He used to partake of sweetened coffee and tea, and usually stayed in the
takıya,
only returning to the house to eat and sleep.
6
At times he ate with his disciples, for he spent most of his time with them, and he prayed the dawn prayer with them in the mosque behind the
imam
(leader of the communal prayer). When he passed his 100th year, he began to pray in his room, and then go down to the
takıya
(Prayer Hall), as was his custom. He used to enjoy walking in the fresh air and would pay visits to the tomb of the Prophet Salih or to the tomb of a saintly man of the area.
7

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We used to sleep with my father in one room. He was very kind to us and treated us with the gentlest of fatherly care and the greatest tenderness. He was concerned with the circumstances of all the women in the house along with the servants and tried to make them happy if possible. It is certain that the women among his disciples who attained realization and knowledge of God and His Messenger—those to whom God gave victory and aid from His Messenger—were so many that there is not space here to write all of their names. Suffi it to say that my honored father declared that in the city of Safad (Safed in present-day Israel) alone, there were 40 women who had realized God.

My sister Maryam was born two years after me, at the beginning of 1893. We lived under the care of my father and mother when we were children, then under the care of my mother after my father departed to Paradise, and then together after my mother died, until Maryam left this world to meet her Lord in 1975. When Maryam was a small child, no more than one year old, she used to hear the voice of the
muezzin
making the call to prayer, ‘‘God is most great! God is most great!’’ Whenever she heard him, she would raise her hands over her head and say ‘‘
Allahu Akbar!
’’ meaning, ‘‘God is most great!’’

My sister was this way in all aspects of her life. When she reached the age of six, she began to show signs of traveling on the Path. My mother told me that after getting into bed and going to sleep, my sister used to wake up every night, sit up in her bed, look around her, and ask, ‘‘What is the explanation of such and such a verse from such and such a Sura of the Qur’an?’’ The women in the room would awaken, awestruck, and say nothing. Then my sister would begin explaining the verse and her explanation would be correct, according to those who heard her. Next she would ask those present, ‘‘What is the meaning of such and such a hadith?’’ Again, the women were silent in amazement. My sister would then give the explanation of the hadith, what happened in it, and its chain of transmission. She would remain doing this for some time, until sleep once more overcame her. The next morning, those who had heard her would ask her about what had happened the previous night, but she knew nothing of what she had done and it was as though she had experienced nothing unusual. She continued this way for four months, and eventually my mother became very upset and often wept for her. Finally, she decided to ask my sister what she saw when she was in that state. One night after my sister had gone to sleep, she awoke, sat up, and began explain- ing verses of the Qur’an. Those who were present asked her what she saw, and she said, ‘‘She sees before her wide, green fields in which there are many people listening to her, and at her side is a man carrying a wreath radiant with light, which he wishes to place on her head.’’ My mother said to her, ‘‘Tell them, ‘My mother is sad, she does not want this for me, but wants me to be as I am in the daytime. She pleads with you and asks God for help so that you help her.’’’ My sister began to repeat this. The wish was repeated

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for 10 nights until God accepted my mother’s desire and my sister ceased to have these experiences. God the glorious had brought her back from the station of inebriation (
sukr
) to that of perfect sobriety (
sahw
). My sister combined both the beautiful and the majestic in her character, and was the embodiment of mercy. She ascended the ladder of the Path with humility through all of the stations, witnessing and unveiling the Truth, for she resembled our father both outwardly and inwardly.

My father used to sit and devote himself to the prolonged invocation of the name of God while facing the direction of Mecca. At these times, I often sat next to him, for I wished to see him in this state. The special circumstances in my life seldom permitted me to play with other children of my age. This did not upset me, however, for I felt happy and proud to sit with the learned men before my honored father, attending his lessons. Of course, I was not completely prevented from having close friends who were dear to me during my childhood. My father was kind to them too; he treated them with gentleness and told me to behave with kindness toward them.

Once, when I was six years old, I asked my mother, ‘‘Who created me?’’ ‘‘God,’’ she answered. ‘‘And who created you?’’ I asked. ‘‘God,’’ she said. ‘‘And who created my father?’’ ‘‘God.’’ ‘‘And who created our Prophet Muhammad?’’ ‘‘God,’’ she said. ‘‘And who created God?’’ ‘‘No one created Him,’’ she said. ‘‘He has always existed, even before creating us.’’ ‘‘How was He before He created us?’’ I asked, and she said, ‘‘Ask your father.’’ At that moment he was sitting in the same room as us, and was reciting the litany, rosary in hand. I stood before him, kissed his hand, and repeated to him what I had said to my mother. Whenever I asked him about anything, he gave me a complete answer, as though one of his senior disciples were asking the ques- tion. When I asked him my question as I had done to my mother, he looked at me, smiling, and repeated the tradition of the Prophet as follows: ‘‘[God] was in darkness. Beneath Him was air and above Him was air, and He created His Throne upon the water.’’ Then he closed his eyes, completely absorbed, and continued narrating the tradition, his hands resting on his knees.

I was very intimately linked with my father. I accompanied him physically and spiritually wherever he was, whether at home, in the
takıya,
in the prayer room, or in towns and villages. I remember how he used to go to the Friday prayer and to the two feast day (
‘Id
) prayers accompanied by large groups of disciples. I remember how I used to go with him, never parting from him, saying the prayer behind the
imam
along with the others. At times, I went up with Hajj Salim, who was one of my father’s disciples, to the roof of the mosque to pray with the men who gave the call to prayer. One of the dearest memories I have of my childhood is of a dream I had one night while asleep in my bed. I saw the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) lying very still, asleep in my father’s bed. Upon seeing him, I was seized with a great fear and began to cry and shout out: ‘‘O my father! O my lord, O my master, O my grandfather, O my beloved, O Messenger of God!’’

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At this he opened his eyes, and looked at me, smiling. Then he sat up in the bed, drew me to him, and held me to his noble chest, blessing me, and I could feel his breaths entering with mine into my breast. The next morning, when I told my father of the vision I had, his eyes filled with tears and he wept from joy, saying to me, ‘‘God will give you victory, my daughter, by the grace of those pure, noble breaths.’’