Voices of Islam (188 page)

But the most profound link between Islamic art and the Qur’an is of another kind: it lies not in the form of the Qur’an but in its
haqiqa,
its form- less essence, and more particularly in the notion of
tawhid,
unity or union, with its contemplative implications; Islamic art—by which we mean the entirety of plastic arts in Islam—is essentially the projection into the visual order of certain aspects or dimensions of Divine Unity.

NOTES

This chapter first appeared in Titus Burckhardt,
Art of Islam: Language and Meaning,
translated by J. Peter Hobson (London, U.K.: World of Islam Festival Trust, 1976; Bloomington, Indiana: World Wisdom, forthcoming in 2008), 39–46. It is reprinted here with minor modifications with the permission of the editors of World Wisdom Books and the Burckhardt estate.

1. The great Muslim scholar Abu Rayhan al-Biruni, born in 973
   CE
   at Khiva, wrote on this subject: ‘‘Our religion and our empire are Arab
   ...
   subject tribes have
   

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   Voices of Art, Beauty, and Science
   

   often joined together to give the state a non-Arab character. But they have not been able to achieve their aim, and as long as the call to prayer continues to echo in their ears five times a day, and the Qur’an in lucid Arabic is recited among the worshippers standing in rows behind the Imam, and its refreshing message is preached in the mos- ques, the will needs submit, the bond of Islam will not be broken, nor its fortresses vanquished. Branches of knowledge from all countries in the world have been trans- lated into the tongue of the Arabs, embellished and made seductive, and the beauties of languages have infused their veins and arteries, despite the fact that each people considers its own language beautiful, since it is accustomed to it and employs it in its daily offices. I speak from experience, for I was reared in a language in which it would be strange to see a branch of knowledge enshrined. Thence I passed to Arabic and Persian, and I am a guest in both languages, having made an effort to acquire them, but I would rather be reproved in Arabic than complimented in Persian.’’
   

2. Certain people will raise the objection that not all Arabs were nomads and that there were cities in Arabia like Mecca and Yathrib (Medina) before Islam. The answer is that in Central Arabia, where Islam had its birth, nomadism was broadly predominant; even the aristocracy of the Quraysh, formed of caravan merchants, is inconceivable without a nomadic background. It is true that Mecca already consti- tuted a spiritual center and, therefore, a factor making for stability in the midst of tribal fl But Mecca is precisely the anchor that Islam used to transform the ethnic substance represented by the nomadic Arabs into a religious community.
   

3. See Edouard Dorme, ‘‘L’Arabe litte´ral et la langue de Hammourabi,’’ in
   

   Me´langes Louis Massignon
   (Damascus: Institut franc¸ais de Damas, 1957).
   

4. The most ancient Semitic alphabets have a total of 29 sounds or letters, 28 of which are retained by Arabic, the ‘‘missing’’ sound being a variant of ‘‘S.’’ It is pos- sible that the reduction of the alphabet to 28 letters conveys a symbolic purpose, for certain Arab authors see a correspondence between these sounds and the 28 stations of the moon. The phonetic cycle progressing from gutturals to palatals, dentals, and labials retraces the ‘‘lunary’’ phases of primordial sound emanating from the sun.
   

5. There do exist verbs composed of four- or five-root consonants, but in such cases, consonantal groups such as
   ts
   or
   br
   play the role of single sounds.
   

6. According to Qur’an 2:31–33, it was Adam who was able to ‘‘name’’ all beings, whereas the angels could not.
   

7. The phonetic symbolism that inheres in Arabic is revealed in particular by the permutation of radical consonants; for example, the root RHM signifies ‘‘to be merciful’’ or ‘‘to have pity on,’’ whereas the root HRM has the sense of ‘‘to forbid,’’ ‘‘to make inaccessible,’’
   sacrum facere;
   similarly, the root QBL has the sense of ‘‘to face’’ or ‘‘to receive’’ (whence the Hebrew word
   Qabbalah
   ), while the root QLB has the sense of ‘‘to return’’ or ‘‘to reverse’’ (whence the term
   qalb
   meaning ‘‘matrix’’ and ‘‘heart’’). A further example is the root FRQ, meaning ‘‘to separate’’ or ‘‘to divide’’ (the Latin word
   furca
   seems to be derived from an analogous root), and its permutation RFQ has the sense of ‘‘to accompany’’ or ‘‘to join,’’ whereas the group FQR means ‘‘to be poor, in want.’’
   

8. In the Umayyad mosque at Damascus, for example, or the palace of Khirbat al- Mafjar.
   

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T
HE
A
RT AND
A
MBIENCE OF
I
SLAMIC
D
RESS

•

Frithjof Schuon

When the arts are enumerated, the art of dress is too often forgotten, although it has an importance as great, or almost as great, as architecture. Doubtless, no civilization has ever produced summits in every fi d. Thus, the Arab genius, made up of virility and resignation, has produced a masculine dress of unsurpassed nobility and sobriety, whereas it has neglected feminine dress, which is destined in Islam, not to express the ‘‘eternal feminine’’ as does the Hindu dress, but to hide a woman’s seductive charms. The Hindu genius, which in a certain sense divinizes the ‘‘wife- mother,’’ has on the other hand created a feminine dress unsurpassable in its beauty, its dignity, and its femininity. The art of dress of every civilization, and even of every people, embraces many varying forms in time and space, but the spirit always remains the same, though it does not always reach the same heights of direct expression and immediate intelligibility.

The Maghribi garb of North Africa, like other nonworldly Muslim garbs, suggests resignation to the Will of God, and more profoundly the mystery of the House of Peace,
Dar al-Salam.
This calls for another comment: If it is true that Maghribi garb, or any other analogous Muslim garb, manifests a
de facto
religious perspective, exclusivistic by defi tion, along with the specific blessing (
baraka
) that it contains, it is no less true—and necessarily so—that this garb manifests at the same time attitudes and mysteries appertaining to esoterism. In this sense, it suggests no confessional limita- tion. Each civilization produces, by heavenly inspiration, several paradigmatic phenomena. The representative dress of Islam is an example of this, as are the arabesques, the prayer niche, and the call to prayer.

The association of ideas between the turban and Islam is far from fortuitous. ‘‘The turban,’’ said the Prophet, ‘‘is a frontier between faith and unbelief.’’ He also said, ‘‘My community shall not decline so long as they wear the turban.’’ The following traditions are also quoted in this context: ‘‘On the Day of Judgment a man shall receive a light for each turn of the turban around his head.’’ ‘‘Wear turbans, for thus you will gain

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Voices of Art, Beauty, and Science

in generosity.’’ The point we wish to make is that the turban is deemed to give the male believer a sort of gravity, consecration, and majestic humility.
1
It sets him apart from chaotic and dissipated creatures, fixing him on a divine axis and thus destines him for contemplation. In brief, the turban is like a celestial counterpoise to all that is profane and empty. Since it is the head, the brain, which is for us the plane of our choice between true and false, durable and ephemeral, real and illusory, and serious and futile, the head should also bear the mark of this choice. The material symbol is deemed to reinforce the spiritual consciousness, and this is true of every religious headdress and even of every liturgical vestment or merely traditional dress. The turban, so to speak, envelops man’s thinking, always so prone to dissipation, forgetfulness, and infidelity. It recalls the sacred imprisoning of his passional nature prone to fleeing from God.
2
The function of the Qur’anic Law is to reestablish a primordial equilibrium that was lost. Hence, the
hadith:
‘‘Wear turbans and thus distinguish yourselves from the peoples (lacking in equilibrium) who came before you.’’

Hatred of the turban, like hatred of the romantic or the picturesque, or what belongs to folklore, is explained by the fact that the romantic worlds are precisely those in which God is still plausible. When people want to abolish Heaven, it is logical to start by creating an atmosphere that makes spiritual things appear out of place. In order to be able to declare successfully that God is unreal, they have to construct around man a false reality, one that is inevitably inhuman because only the inhuman can exclude God. What is involved is a falsification of the imagination and so its destruction. Modern mentality implies the most prodigious lack of imagination possible.

Overall, the dress of the Muslim indicates a spiritual retreat (
khalwa
), an ‘‘interiorization’’ of the spirit made of holy poverty and divine Peace.

NOTES

The above chapter is excerpted from the article, ‘‘The Art of Dress and Ambience,’’ which will appear in the forthcoming volume,
Frithjof Schuon on Universal Art: Principles and Criteria,
edited by Catherine Schuon (Bloomington, Indiana: World Wisdom, 2007). Slight editorial changes have been made to the original for consistency of style and for purposes of clarifi n. Portions of the chapter have also been abridged. The general editor of this set thanks the editors of World Wisdom Books for permission to reproduce this work.

1. In Islam, all Prophets are represented as wearing turbans, sometimes of differing colors, according to the appropriate symbolism.
   

2. When Saint Vincent de Paul designed the headdress of the Sisters of Charity, he intended to impose on their gaze a kind of reminiscence of monastic isolation.
   

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T
HE
Q
UESTION OF
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MAGES