SonOfKarbala HaeriTrust ZP Sample

Publisher: Zahra Publications
ISBN-13 (Printed Version): 978-1905047-51-2

ISBN-10 (Printed Version): 1-905047-51-7
ISBN (E-Book Version): 978-1-919826-44-8
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First Published in 2006
© Haeri Trust and Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents ............................................................................................................................. i

Book Description / About Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri ........................................................................ ii
Acknowledgements ........................................................................................................................ iv
Foreword I ....................................................................................................................................... v
Foreword II .................................................................................................................................. viii
Introduction ..................................................................................................................................... 1
CHAPTER 1: The House of Shaykh Ahmad.................................................................................. 4
CHAPTER 2: The Plain of Martyrs .............................................................................................. 22
CHAPTER 3: The Last Caravan ................................................................................................... 36
CHAPTER 4: The Burrani ............................................................................................................ 50
CHAPTER 5: Westerly Winds ..................................................................................................... 60
CHAPTER 6: Student Times ........................................................................................................ 75
CHAPTER 7: The Curse and Blessings of Oil ............................................................................. 98
CHAPTER 8: New Horizons ...................................................................................................... 109
CHAPTER 9: Cross Currents ..................................................................................................... 123
CHAPTER 10: Clear Currents .................................................................................................... 133
CHAPTER 11: People and Places .............................................................................................. 157
CHAPTER 12: Making Sense .................................................................................................... 189
APPENDIX: Pictures .................................................................................................................. 204
eBooks By Zahra Publications .................................................................................................... 213
i
Son of Karbala by Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri
Book Description / About Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri
Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri was born in the Iraqi holy city of Karbala, sacred to the whole Muslim
world. Educated in Europe, living in the USA, working for many years in the oil industry, he has
developed a unique perspective on the social and political history of the region. Interwoven with
episodes from his own life, and meetings with prominent politicians, theologians and Sufi
masters, he traces the collapse of the old way of life as dictators, often propped up by western
commercial interests, destroyed the social fabric that had held the people and their traditional
Islamic culture together for centuries.
In this autobiography the atmosphere of an Iraq in transition is brought to life with all its sights,
sounds and political realities. But the author’s personal concern and quest has always been
spiritual rather than political, so the national and cultural upheavals are used as a backdrop for
his own journey of self discovery and search for truth. For everyone interested in the events that
created modern Iraq, in how Muslims view their own history and in how the message of Islam
meets both individual needs and that of the world today, this is a timely and thought-provoking
book.
A new dawn has also appeared in spiritual travelogues with the

publication of Son of Karbala. It deserves a place among the
great spiritual odysseys of our time, right next to Gurdjieff’s
Meetings with Remarkable Men, which is at once resembles and
exceeds in its honesty and clarity.
Bruce B. Lawrence, Professor Emeritus, Duke University
About Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri
Acknowledged as a master of self-knowledge and a spiritual philosopher, Shaykh Fadhlalla

Haeri’s role as a teacher grew naturally out of his own quest for self-fulfillment.
ii
He travelled extensively on a spiritual quest which led to his eventual rediscovery of the pure
and original Islamic heritage of his birth, and the discovery of the truth that reconciles the past
with the present, the East with the West, the worldly with the spiritual – a link between the
ancient wisdom teachings and our present time.
A descendant of five generations of well-known and revered spiritual leaders, Shaykh Fadhlalla
Haeri has taught students throughout the world for over 30 years. A prolific author of more than
thirty books relating to the universal principles of Islam, the Qur’an, and its core purpose of
enlightenment, he is a gifted exponent of how the self relates to the soul, humankind’s link with
the Divine, and how consciousness can be groomed to reflect our higher nature.
The unifying scope of his perspective emphasizes practical, actionable knowledge that leads to
self-transformation, and provides a natural bridge between seemingly different Eastern and
Western approaches to spirituality, as well as offering a common ground of higher knowledge
for various religions, sects and secular outlooks.
iii
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements
In writing this book, all members of my immediate family have participated in varying degrees.
Several relatives confirmed and reminded me of past events, others helped in transcribing and
editing the manuscript. In addition, a number of my students and friends have helped at various
stages of the writing. My special gratitude goes to those who spent much time and effort in
shaping this book.
I am deeply indebted to my family, friends, associates and students, who have enriched my life
in form and meaning. My heartfelt love and acknowledgement goes to all those who have
touched my life (in any way) and my sincere apologies to those whom I have hurt or upset,
knowingly or otherwise.
iv
Foreword I
Foreword I
The name “Karbala” is etched in the consciousness of present day Westerners through
presentation in the mass media of bloody scenes, fearsome battles and tragic destruction of the
past few years following the invasion of Iraq by America and other coalition forces. But for
Muslims, and especially Shiìtes, it is associated with another and very different kind of bloody
event, one that took place nearly fourteen centuries ago and involved the spilling of the blood of
“the prince of martyrs”, Imam Husayn ibn Àli, the grandson of the Prophet of Islam. It was here
that Husayn met his death while seeking to present the authenticity of the Islamic message and
the administration of justice on the basis of the truth that Islam teaches. His body was buried in
the desert where he and other members of his family were killed. And from this event there came
into being the city of Karbala, built over the centuries around the mausoleum of the supreme
martyr of Islam. The dome and minarets of the tomb of the Imam still dominate the city’s
landscape.
Subsequently, Karbala became a major center of pilgrimage and religious activity, visited by
countless pilgrims from all over Iraq, Persia, the Indian subcontinent and many other lands. Over
the centuries the faithful have also tried to be buried near Imam Husayn and many bodies of
pious Muslims have been brought from near and far to Karbala, for that purpose. Moreover, the
city became a major center of Islamic learning where many migrated to sit at the feet of masters
in its schools and also in Najaf nearby. Even the earth of Karbala is considered to contain special
blessings and to this day devout Shiìtes put a piece of that earth before them on the ground
during the daily prayers and place their forehead on it during the act of prostration so as to be
able to touch the earth near where the body of Imam Husayn is buried.
Being a major religious center and site of pilgrimage, Karbala retained its traditional character
longer than Baghdad and was still to a large extent dominated by traditional Islamic culture until
the mid – 20th century. It was in this still Islamic ambience that Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri was
born and brought up. Like many distinguished families of Karbala, his family was both Persian
and Arab having some members who lived in Iraq and others who lived in Persia, where the
family is said to have originated. The riveting autobiography that follows describes in moving
v
Foreword I
prose and with a strong sense of narrative the life of an exceptionally gifted member of the
religious and social aristocracy of that city.
We read about this early years set in a completely traditional family and social context followed
by the gradual penetration of modernism and Westernization into his life. We read about his
attraction to the West, going to England to study, his spiritual and intellectual crisis, his return to
Iraq as a Westernized Muslim and his return to the West. Of greatest interest is how he re-
discovered Islam while he was in the West and especially the fact that this transformation took
place through the agency of a Hindu and with the help of Sufism. This process has become
prototypic for many a Muslim and depicts an early example of what can be observed among
many Muslim students coming to the West these days. But it was less common when Shaykh
Fadhlalla experienced it.
As someone who is somewhat older than Shaykh Fadhlalla, and who underwent a very similar
transformation a decade earlier than him, I can vouchsafe the authenticity of such a life
transforming process. Reading this biography reminds me very much of my own life. I too was
born in a distinguished Shiìte family in Persia and my father in fact knew Shaykh Àbd Allah
Ha’iri, a famous Sufi master, who was a great uncle of our author. I still recall that as a child I
was taken by my father to meet this master. He put me on his lap, smiled and recited prayers for
me. His son, Hadi Ha’iri, the greatest authority on Rumi in his day, was like my uncle and one of
my important teachers in Sufi literature. I too was to go at a young age to the West, become
immersed in Western culture, in my case American rather than British, become attracted to
Hinduism through which the metaphysical and mystical dimensions of Islam were to open to me
and I subsequently re-discovered the integral Islamic tradition. It is even more remarkable that in
Shaykh Fadhlalla’s case as in mine there came into being a meeting at the highest level between
Shadhili spirituality and Shiìsm, something that has been rare in Islamic history. I can therefore
speak from personal experience about the authenticity of the salient features of Shaykh
Fadhlalla’s life and works and can bear witness to the importance of his variegated and
diversified life for a better understanding of the dynamics of the encounter between Islam and
the West in the mind and soul of many Muslims today.
vi
Foreword I
Shaykh Fadhlalla has adorned his autobiography with many Qur’anic citations and the events of
his life has been described in such a way that they have become imbued with moral and spiritual
character and serve as ethical and religious lessons. His autobiography is therefore not only
engaging in itself and revealing as far as the life of an important contemporary Muslim
personality is concerned, but it is also emblematic of the life of a deeply rooted present day
Muslim thrown into the chaos of the modern world but able finally to find his moorings and
return with even greater certitude than before to the world of faith. His work can in fact be a
guide for many a Muslim confronted with a similar situation.
Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri has already written a member of valuable books and especially
penetrating works on the Noble Qur’an. He has also guided numerous young spiritual aspirants,
both Muslim born and of Western origin, in America, Europe, Africa and Asia. Moreover, he has
carried out very valuable acts of philanthropy and continues to do so. I pray for him to have a
long and continuously fruitful life in service to God and His creatures. His life demonstrates the
fact that to “God belong the East and the West” and that wheresoever we turn “there is the Face
of God”.
Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Bethesda, Maryland, U. S. A.

Dhu’l-qa`dah 1426 AH
December 2005
Seyyed Hossein Nasr is Professor of Islamic Studies at George Washington University,

Washington DC.
vii
Foreword II
Foreword II
“Son of Karbala”, the memoirs of Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri, are an extraordinary testament to the
man, place and time. At one level it is a fitting tribute to one of the most significant shrine cities
of Islam, and also, and more importantly, a record of the passing away of an entire way of life.
At another level, it is the fascinating story of a true seeker after wisdom and enlightenment, and
the paths that he had to tread, and the incredible people that he met, before he emerged as one of
the recognized modern masters of authentic spirituality.
Karbala, after the Second World War, mirrored the decline of traditional society that was
occurring elsewhere in Iraq and indeed throughout the Muslim World. The fragility of its age-old
structures were all too evident as the emergent generation abandoned nearly all of its legacy and
replaced it with a crude modernism devoid of any civilizing virtue. A close-knit, organically
connected and mutually supportive culture was unable to cope with the allure of materialism, an
ever-expanding state, and the siren calls of false ideologies. The author describes in lyrical terms
the warmth and common decency that pervaded human relations in the Karbala of his childhood;
the sense of responsibility that governed people’s every actions; and the sinews of mutual
obligations that provided the safety net for the poor and the weak, and that combined power and
privilege with a profound consciousness of service to society’s disadvantaged. His family
occupied the commanding heights of Karbala’s society, combining an elevated status in the
religious hierarchy of the city, with a wide recognition of their authority as hakims, or masters of
the inner dimensions of Islam. Shaykh Ahmad Haeri, the author’s father, was an accomplished
practitioner of alchemy. He was sought out for his spiritual advice and guidance from as far a
field as India. Through his intense spiritual practices and devotions, he was able to reach very
high levels of inner awareness and consciousness, one of whose by-products being an ability to
discern patterns in events which were beyond the normal capacities of humans. Shaykh Fadhlalla
Haeri must have inherited these qualities from the long line of his illustrious predecessors.
As the tides of change began to overwhelm his native town, the young Fadhlalla adapted, though
not uncritically, to the ways of the new order. He continued his higher education in Britain and
then joined the fast-expanding oil industry of Iraq, where he rapidly rose in the organization of
viii
Foreword II
the major foreign-owned oil company, the Iraq Petroleum Co. But correctly sensing that the
politics of the country were about to become more tyrannical and violent, he left Iraq, and
established himself as a successful oil consultant and entrepreneur. It was while on one of his
numerous business trips in the Middle East that he came across the figure who would challenge
his way of life directly and rekindle in him the passionate yearning for the truth that would set
the pattern for his future. Swami Chinmaya, an Indian spiritual master, confronted Fadhlalla with
the great questions of life and the significance of all authentic traditions in mapping the path that
can lead to self-realization and true knowledge. After a number of years in the company of
Chinmaya, Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri was encouraged by his guru to return to the valid traditions
within the Islamic heritage of his own past. There then followed an enthralling set of encounters
with leading masters of the Islamic Sufi tradition, both in the East and the West, as Shaykh
Fadhlalla Haeri begins his spiritual seeking in earnest. The descriptions of his various meetings
and experiences with these astonishing masters provide some of the most absorbing passages in
the book. His first Islamic guide after his departure from Chinmaya’s ashram, was Shaykh
Àbdalqadir as-Sufi, an extraordinary person in his own right, a Scottish-born master who had
established centers for his mainly European adepts in various parts of the world. As Shaykh
Fadhlalla Haeri matured into a recognized authority, he began to collect around him a growing
number of followers, seeking from him the guidance that would assist them in their own life
journeys. Several centers for his adepts were established, nearly all focused on both enhancing
the inner life of its members as well as emphasizing a strong service ethic to the community and
society at large. Village style communities, clinics, schools, and places of worship were
organized around the world, from the US, to Britain, Sweden, Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka and
South Africa.
“Son of Karbala” is not an ordinary memoir. It is a highly instructive and thoroughly enjoyable
book that can benefit the reader at any number of levels. Above all, it is a story of the passion for
truth that consumes and then alters a person in ways that are truly inspiring. The delights in
knowing, with unalterable certainty, that the subtle breath of an All Merciful God holds the
universe together, can bring an immense transformative force into one’s life. Each and every
thing falls into a pre-ordained place even when one is confronted by a seemingly endless
procession of chaotic and meaningless events. Many peoples’ lives have been profoundly altered
by their encounter with Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri. In reality, the force of his presence is nothing
ix
Foreword II
more than the reflection of a contented self that has made its peace with itself as well as its
Creator; and with which its Creator is manifestly contented. The catastrophes that befell his
native Iraq did not detract Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri from his magnificent quest. If anything, the
tribulations of his country should be seen also as a salutary warning to all who chose
inappropriate paths that strayed far from the divine measure.
It is this property that marks out the “Son of Karbala”. It tells a number of stories and carries
multiple messages within it. But it is ultimately the sense that serenity and success is assured if
one pursues the inner life with sincere determination and purpose. That is the real message of the
“Son of Karbala” and we have to thank Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri for sharing his journey with us.
Ali Allawi
Baghdad,
Iraq
October 24, 2005
Ali Allawi is the Minister of Finance of the Republic of Iraq. 1 He had been prior to his current
appointment, the Interim Minister of Trade, and later the Interim Minister of Defense, in the new
Government of Iraq.
1
In 2005.
x
Introduction
Introduction
Listen to the reed how it tells a tale, complaining of

separations.
– Jalaluddin Rumi
This book is the journal of a quest. It chronicles my life-long search for knowledge; a search that
was driven by love and uncompromising passion, in the realization that conflict within and with
others comes from man’s natural drive to resolution. My goal was to understand the meaning of
life and know its Source.
By God’s grace and through appropriate applications and blessings, openings were granted to
me. Words, events or books cannot define my gratitude for this. Yet, when close friends, students
and family requested me to write my biography, I felt compelled to share the gifts of
understanding and knowledge that have been bestowed upon me.
My experiences may be of particular value to those who have been displaced from the land of
their heritage, especially if they are from Eastern or Muslim backgrounds. Insha’Allah (if God
wills), they will also enable interested people from other cultures and religions to achieve a better
understanding of the Islamic culture and its way of life, which has undergone such radical
changes over the past decades.
Current world events and conflicts between peoples and nations add impetus to the usefulness of
a book which might show some order within the chaos and clarify misconceptions and fears
Westerners have concerning such issues as Muslim fundamentalism, jihad and terrorism. The
reader will share my personal discoveries of how we Muslims lapsed in our socio-economic and
cultural development and how our great religion became over structured and ritualistic. I came to
a greater understanding and reconciliation with the world situation without compromising my
spiritual heritage. I hope the reader, too, may come to terms with difficult events and disturbing
global relationships at many levels.
1
Introduction
I was born and brought up in the ancient city of Karbala, where Shià Muslims, theologians and
mystics had lived and died for over thirteen centuries. Apart from its famed date palms and
orange groves, Karbala holds great significance for millions of Muslims around the world. It was
on the plains of Karbala on the 10th Muharram 61 AH (10th October 680 CE) that Imam
Hussein, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad, along with 71 of his companions, was brutally
martyred. Ever since, there is a deep sadness and concern in every Muslim’s heart as to why
Muslims have often had to endure cruel and hypocritical leaders.
As a European-educated young man, I looked for a home or culture that would reconcile my past
with an appropriate future. I had lost Karbala with the continuity of its ancient way of life and
Prophetic values, only to find its original blueprint ever residing in my soul, rather than
physically in any land – for I looked everywhere without success. The cultural dislocation,
eventual statelessness and lack of country or people to belong to, led me to accept wherever in
the world I was, as my temporary home. This brought the discovery that the more you identify
with your nationality, religion, language and culture, the more difficult it becomes to discover
the higher spirit within you. In my case, outer destitution became the door for inner restitution.
My quest and longing for truth has led me to conclude that the end of the search for meaning and
purpose in life – the whys, whats and hows of existence – is only the beginning of the
enlightened phase of joyful continuity. What I was truly yearning for was closer than I had ever
imagined. What I feared and hated lay in my own imagination and mind, veiling deeper
meanings and the eternal truth. My desire is now to invite others to the celebration of life through
unconditional service and awakened consciousness to the universal Truth, the ever present and
perfect ways of the One God.
This book is dedicated to all sincere human beings, who accept the limitations of humanity and
seek the boundless delights emanating from the soul. May the wandering seeker be awakened to
fulfilled living, surrender in utter gratitude and be content by witnessing the Glorious Creator
and His boundless perfections which shine through apparent worldly imperfections.
Oh my son! This world is like an ocean in which many a creation

had drowned. Make, therefore, the fear of God your boat in this
2
Introduction
ocean; your faith the main hull of the boat; reliance on God as
its sails; reason as its rower; knowledge as its captain; and
patience as its anchor.
– Imam Àli
3
CHAPTER 1: The House of Shaykh Ahmad
Allah makes ample provision for whom He wills of His bondsman,

and restricts it for whom (He wills). Lo! Allah is Aware of all
things.
– Qur’an (29: 62)
I remember a peaceful winter afternoon in Karbala. The sun brilliant and the breeze cool, the
palm fronds swinging with rhythmic ease. I must have been about eleven years old and was
sitting on one of the flat-topped roofs of our house. The ancient city spread out before me and as
I looked towards the great golden dome of the mosque of Imam Hussein, that had seen so much
of the past, I wondered about the future; ‘What will become of Karbala, and what will become of
me, in years to come? Where and what is my destiny?’
I was in my final year at primary school and preparing to go to Karbala’s only and newly built
secondary school. That morning the teacher had asked my class to write a composition on what
we wanted to be in the future. My friends each expressed their desire to join the professional
ranks emerging in Iraq; engineers, doctors and administrators, I could not come up with a desired
career. After much thought, I presented one sentence in large letters: ‘I could be a doctor, an
engineer or a teacher. I do not really mind what or where as long as I am content.’
The breeze whispered to me that I would not stay in Karbala for long, although Karbala felt like
forever. The town and its people seemingly timeless, an endless repeat of time already unfolded.
Somehow, even then, I knew I would eventually leave my home for good. I would leave my
people and my country, not to avoid anything, nor to reach anything, but simply to live my
destiny.
That which is not meant, the hand cannot reach

And that which is allotted you will find wherever you may be.
– Saadi
4
Looking down upon the narrow road, I spotted my uncle’s car, one of the first few in Karbala,
making its way through the crowd of horse drawn carriages, donkey carts and passers-by. As the
sun began to set, orange and red peered through the dusky haze. Over the newly installed
loudspeaker, the muezzin sounded the call for the faithful to come to prayer; ‘haya àlas salat’
(make haste to prayer), the oldest of exhortations sounded out from the newest of mediums.
The evening before, my nanny, Mashti, had enthralled me with one of her stories. In Persian she
would begin, ‘Yeki bood yeki nabood ghayr az khuda kesi nabood’ (There was One, there was no
one, other than God there is no one). And in Arabic she would end, ‘Wa’ llahu a`lam’ (and Allah
knows best).
‘There was One, there was no one, other than God there is no
one.’
‘There was a sand storm in which a king, out on a hunting trip, had been separated from his
guards. As the lost king wandered, a shepherd boy without knowing the king’s identity helped
him with food and shelter. The following day, when the storm had passed, the king revealed his
identity to the shepherd and invited him to stay at the royal court. The innocence, simplicity and
loyalty of the shepherd boy endeared him to the king. Soon, he grew to be an influential vizier,
making the courtiers and feudal aristocrats extremely jealous of the king’s new protégé.
Now, it was the habit of the young vizier, twice a day, to slip away to the seclusion of his private
chambers, where no one knew what he was doing. The courtiers speculated and gossiped about
this strange conduct. ‘He was stashing away gold and jewels which he has stolen from the royal
treasury’, one would whisper. ‘Perhaps he is performing witchcraft’, another would add. When
the king heard these speculations, he was determined to find out what his vizier was up to and
ordered a small hole to be made in the vizier’s wall.
The following day, when the vizier had quietly made his way to his chambers, the king and his
retinue gathered by the hole. Looking in, they saw the vizier take off his richly embroidered
gowns and put on the patched robe of a shepherd boy. In his shepherd’s clothing, he would sit on
5
his prayer mat in deep prayer. The king turned to his courtiers and proudly proclaimed, ‘this is
the real wealth and magic this shepherd boy seeks. He is a true servant of God.’
And Allah knows best.’
Oh my Son, establish regular prayer, enjoin what is just, forbid

what is wrong and bear with patience whatever befalls you; truly,
this act requires courage.
– Qur’an (31: 17)
With the call to prayer ringing in my ears, lifting above the golden dome of the mosque, my
thoughts turned between school and the memory of the shepherd boy. I knew within my heart
that it would not matter what professions or roles I would acquire in my future life. It would not
matter what clothes I would wear, nor where I would wear them, as long as I was content and
secure within myself. As providence would have it, I wore many clothes, accepted various and
diverse roles and would come to call different countries and houses home.
The first of these houses was the one where, in October 1937, I was born. It was an old house at
the heart of the city of Karbala. The house lay adjacent to the Mosque and Shrine of Imam
Hussein and belonged to my father, Shaykh Ahmad Al Haeri Al Mazanderani. The date of my
birth was considered most auspicious as it coincided with the 3rd of Shaban (the eighth month)
in the Islamic lunar calendar, which was also the birthday of Imarn Hussein. My father decided
to name me ‘Fadhlalla’, which means ‘the grace of God’.
***
Three generations before me, a man named Zainul Àbideen (meaning the best of worshippers)
had been born in the Iranian province of Mazanderan, on the southern coast of the Caspian Sea.
In the early 1800s, his father had fled Shirvan, in present day Azerbaijan, as thousands were
slaughtered in the wake of a brutal Russian invasion. Zainul Àbideen was sent to the seminary
city of Najaf in Iraq where Imam Àli, the fourth Caliph of Islam and the father of Imam
Hussein, is buried. Here, he became Shaykh Zainul Àbideen gaining an unparalleled reputation
6
amongst his contemporaries for piety and abstinence. For fifty years, he lived the life of an
ascetic, without a wife and home comforts.
A man will not find sweetness of faith until he is heedless of

the fruits of this world.
– Prophet Muhammad
It is said (legend and truth have mingled) that one night, while in supplication at the shrine of
Imam Àli, Shaykh Zainul Àbideen let out an exasperated exclamation. ‘I have lived my whole
life in devotion to God and for years I have lived off nothing but dry bread and vegetables, I am
getting old now, I want a home and I want to eat chicken instead of dried bread!’ There, at the
shrine, he fell into a brief sleep, dreaming the most vivid of dreams. Imam Àli came to him and
said that if he had any wish for an easier and more comfortable life, he should pull aside the
curtains that manifested in front of him. As the Shaykh opened the curtains, he saw a large
tablecloth spread across the floor with several people sitting around it enjoying a sumptuous
banquet. The Imam then told him to go to Karbala, for this was the table of his son, Imam
Hussein.
Asceticism does not mean that you should own nothing., It means
that nothing should own you.
– Imam Àli
Shaykh Zainul Àbideen packed his few possessions and headed for Karbala. At the gates of the
city, a wealthy merchant, finely dressed and mounted on a horse, asked the head of the
approaching caravan if a man named ‘Zainul Àbideen’ was amongst them. As the Shaykh
stepped forward, the man got off his horse, bent down and kissed his hand, introducing himself
as Hajji 2 Àli, also originally from Mazanderan, but for many years resident in Karbala, He
2
A common title in the Muslim world used to designate someone who has been on ‘hajj’ – the pilgrimage to Mecca,
which is a once in a lifetime requirement for all Muslims, who are able to undertake it.
7
requested the Shaykh to stay at his home, while in Karbala. He was thanked, but told that
accommodation arrangements had already been made at the seminary.
Everyday, a huge tray of food was brought to the Shaykh from Hajji Àli’s house. A few days
later, Hajji Àli offered the Shaykh his daughter’s hand in marriage and money to buy a house
and household goods. When Shaykh Zainul Àbideen asked the reason for the extreme
generosity, Hajji Àli revealed that he too had had a dream. Imam Hussein had come to him and
told him that a caravan would be arriving from Najaf on a particular day and amongst the
travelers would be a man, who bore the same name as his son. This man was to be served and
helped in every possible way. ‘Zainul Àbideen’ was the name of the only one of Imam
Hussein’s sons who survived the battle of Karbala. Shaykh Zainul Àbideen thanked God for this
great blessing, married Khursheed, Hajji Àli’s daughter, and lived the rest of his life in Karbala.
There he established a thriving, internationally renowned seminary.
As Shaykh Zainul Àbideen’s reputation grew, a group of merchants from India arrived in
Karbala looking for a religious leader to whom they could give their zakat, the donation to the
poor, which is the obligation of every Muslim 3. They were first recommended to the house of a
well-known cleric, who showed much piety and asceticism. There, they were given the simplest
of meals, dry bread and lentil soup, but just before their departure, a cat ran from behind a
curtain dragging a chicken in its mouth, which it had stolen from the kitchen. The visitors
glanced at each other in puzzlement questioning the cleric’s asceticism, and left without handing
over their zakat.
Surely, the hypocrites strive to deceive Allah, but it is He who

deceives them.
– Qur’an (4: 142)
3
The word ‘zakat’ literally means ‘to purify’. The implication being that if you give a portion of your wealth or
earnings, you have taken a step towards purifying yourself of your love of wealth. The obligatory zakat is the
equivalent of 2.5% of particular possessions or earnings, but the word is also used for general charitable donations.
8
The following day, the party arrived at Shaykh Zainul Àbideen’s house, where they were served
a lavish lunch with a chicken on every plate; for it was now reputed that there was always
chicken at Shaykh Zainul Àbideen’s house. Impressed with his inner purity and outer
generosity, they handed over their zakat and submitted to him as their spiritual leader. In time,
the Indian relationship grew, with the princes and sultans of many states being amongst the
Shaykh’s followers.
In Shià Islam, the principle of guidance is invested in an individual or several individuals who
stand at the peak of the religious and scholarly hierarchy and whose authority on matters of
Islamic law are accepted by the lesser clergy and citizens in general. Shaykh Zainul Àbideen
was acknowledged as such a man – a Marja-e Taqlid (Source of Emulation). More recently, the
term Ayatollah 4 and Grand Ayatollah have been used to designate the same station.
Shaykh Zainul Àbideen and Khursheed (meaning sun) had four sons, each of whom were
prominent men of their time, all reaching the highest rank of religious or political leadership. His
eldest son and my grandfather, Shaykh Muhammad Hussein, took over his father’s mantle as
leader of the Friday prayers and master of the religious institutions of Karbala. He stayed there
until his death whereupon, his eldest son, my father, Shaykh Ahmad, took his place; like his
father and grandfather before him, he too led the main congregation at the Shrine of Imam
Hussein. Shaykh Muhammad Hussein’s second son, Shaykh Baqir, went to Iran and became a
senior and respected Ayatollah in the Justice Ministry (his descendents are scattered around the
world, but a number still live in Iran).
It was on Shaykh Zainul Àbideen’s prayer mats and with Khursheed’s tasbeeh (rosary or worry
beads) that I grew up. Today, the worn prayer mat and tasbeeh sit in my room. The tasbeeh was
made of clay pellets fashioned from the earth taken from near Imam Hussein’s burial ground. On
each of these beads of sacred earth, a name denoting an attribute of God would be recited.
4
The word Ayatollah was initially used to denote the prominent clerics who supported the Constitutional Revolution
in Iran in 1906. Subsequently, it has become more generalized. As the title Ayatollah began to be applied less
discriminatingly, the term Grand Ayatollah gained acceptance to give greater status.
9
The use of the rosary in Islam was a foreign custom, probably taken from Byzantium. During the
Prophet’s time, when something was to be recited repeatedly, they used date pips, as are still
used in some places, especially Sufi centers in North Africa. There is a pile of pips on one side
and with each recitation one pip is thrown onto the other side. The Qur’an relates, ‘To God
belongs all the desirable perfections and attributes’, and when the Prophet was asked, ‘What are
these attributes?’ he replied, ‘He who knows ninety-nine names or attributes of God will be in
the Garden.’ And so the Muslim rosary traditionally has comprised of ninety-nine beads.
Allah’s are the most beautiful names, so invoke Him by them and
leave those who desecrate His names. They mil be repaid for what
they do.
– Qur’an (7: 180)
Off a cobble stone alleyway, across from the Bab al-Zainabiyyah (the gate of Zainab 5), one of
the main entrances to the Shrine stood our house. When I was a child, there had been no
separation between the Shrine and our house, but in time, a narrow road was built encircling the
shrine. There were three entrances to the compound, which actually consisted of a collection of
houses, the first lead to my father’s home and those of the immediate family and the other two
were the guesthouse and my aunts’ home.
As you walked into our home, beneath the shade of a tall eucalyptus tree, you would come to
what was the first of three courtyards. There, a visitor would sit and wait on one of the benches
beside the circle of orange trees in the center of the courtyard. Onto the same courtyard opened
the three wood and glass doors (the equivalent of French windows) of my father’s library.
Carpets and cushions lay on the library floor, several thousand books lined the walls, some
printed, some handwritten and leather bound, a number in the hand of Shaykh Zainul Abideen
and Shaykh Muhammad Hussein. All the books were in Arabic or Persian 6.
5
Zainab was the younger sister of Imam Hussein, whose denunciations of the murderers of the Imam and the ruling
king Yazid are famous in Muslim history.
6
Persian is more correctly called ‘Farsi’, after the name of an area/province in what is now Iran.
10
Until the early twentieth century, printing presses were still rare in the country and professional
scribes often copied books by hand. It was some 400 years after Gutenberg’s invention that the
printing press became widespread in the Middle East. The first printing press was established in
Istanbul in 1729, but was closed down, only to resume printing in 1784 in a most restricted
manner, due to the strong objections of clerics on the spurious grounds that it may defile the
Arabic script. It took the direct intervention of a European power, in the form of Napoleon’s
conquest of Egypt at the dawn of the 19th Century, for the Arab countries to have their printing
baptism. The first printing press in Iran only started operations in 1817.
Interestingly, apart from the Muslim countries’ general tendency to blindly reject any Western
invention that was not directly related to the military, another reason for the prohibition of
printing in Arabic was the vested interests of the guild of calligraphers and scribes – the
predecessors of those whose inscriptions were written on my father’s books. Perversely, their
strength was a legacy of the Islamic countries’ far greater level of scholarship than that of Europe
prior to the Middle Ages.
Ignorance is enough for you if you are content with your present
knowledge.
– Imam Àli
While I was in Karbala, the modern printing presses of Cairo and Beirut were producing
increasing quantities of material, but their focus was of a more worldly inclination than my
father’s interests and so he largely avoided them. From ‘Abbas Kutibi’, my favorite Karbala
bookstore, I would eagerly purchase the latest edition Ithnaine (Monday), the popular Egyptian
weekly current affairs magazine, whose owners and editors, like their Lebanese competitors,
were zealous Christian freemasons.
It was through these modern publishing houses that the Arabic language subtly began to deviate,
reflecting the erosion of the culture of religion in the Arab lands, and its replacement by a more
Western and worldly outlook. The Qur’an gradually became less and less understandable to the
layman, as a number of key Qur’anic terms took on meanings that were often ironically the
opposite of their original. Hence, da`wa, originally meaning to invite someone to the religion,
11
came to mean a dinner party; inzi’aj, which meant moving the heart towards God, now means to
be bothered; khumul, which used to mean not to show off or be pretentious, now means laziness
and sloth; mumtaz, which the Qur’an uses as ‘to stand out’ in the way that criminals do, has
come to mean excellent; ratib, which meant a repeated litany or regulated supplication, now
means a fixed salary; riyadha, which meant a virtuous and self-disciplined way of life has come
to mean sport; and shahada, a word used to describe the Muslim profession of faith and which
until a generation ago had only religious connotations, is now commonly used for a certified
qualification (usually a university degree) that would ensure a well-paid job (ratib).
There is no good in worship without pondering upon its meaning,

and no good in reading the Qur’an without reflection.
– Imam Àli
Behind the first courtyard in our compound was a second family courtyard, which lead to a third
smaller courtyard, and which included my father’s small and modest sleeping quarters; barely
big enough for his bed. At the other side of his courtyard was the tall wall of my father’s
alchemy laboratory, whose entrance was from the roof. Next to this entrance were large vats of
garlic pickle – my sleeves occasionally bearing evidence of having been dipped in the thick dark
liquid as I reached in to sample the product. Every morning after fajr, the dawn prayer, and then
again for an hour before maghrib, the evening prayer, my father would retreat to his laboratory.
From the upper floor, I would hold on to the banister and tentatively make my way down the
precarious wooden stairs, choking and coughing as the sickly smells of sulphur and ammonia
would invariably engulf me.
There, on tables or niches in the walls, would be all kinds and sizes of pots, some with burners
beneath, crude distillation units, a strip of felt slowly dripping filtered liquids from one container
to another and liquids of all colors in unmarked jars. Metal strips would be lying around, copper,
lead and silver. There would be animal horns, human hair and chemical compounds. At the end
of the ground floor, in an enclosed room, raged a coal furnace. Like his father, and grandfather
before him, Shaykh Ahmad was a practicing alchemist.
12
With a mixture of curiosity and concern, I would quietly sit and watch my father as he worked,
totally absorbed in his experiments. Occasionally, he would tell me stories of one of his cousins
having an accident, things exploding and pots catching on fire. To my surprise, nothing so
exciting happened in his workshop, at least not in my memory. As I grew older, one day he
explained to me that the aim of the alchemical process is to enable a base metal to transform into
a higher noble metal, from lead to gold, from an unstable to a stable state. ‘It is an exercise of
being admitted to God’s secret of how time and the timeless relate; how thousands of years can
be shrunk by speeding up the natural process. Whoever wants to turn other metals into gold for
material gain will never succeed’, my father assured me. The alchemist will himself be
transformed and will transcend the usual human limitations. This in itself is worth far more than
the worldly power and wealth the elixir is meant to provide.
Once I remember, a guest had arrived at our home, from outside Iraq to discuss alchemy with my
father. He was a wild looking man with long matted hair, who spoke Arabic with a North
African accent. He arrived enthusiastically and left disappointed a few days later, accusing my
father of not letting him in on the ‘inner secrets’ of the craft. When he had gone, my father told
us over lunch, ‘Whoever is anxious about the end product will miss both the transformation and
the product.’ Shaykh Ahmad’s alchemical pursuits were his struggle to transcend the limitations
of reasoning and the mind. Success implies being admitted to a zone of consciousness where you
become a conduit for the inspirational Source. ‘You must’, my father had said, ‘unite your will
with God’s will.’ Then there is no ‘you’ as such, only a soul that is God’s agent and a reflection
of His knowledge.
How can norms be broken for you whilst you have not broken the
norms of the self (ego).
– Ibn Ata’ Allah Iskandari
A few months after I left Iraq, I was informed that my father had stopped going to his laboratory.
On my first visit back to Karbala, the laboratory was under a cover of dust, concealing ancient
secrets. My mother told me that just before he ceased working in the laboratory, a number of my
13
father’s silver rings had gradually became golden in color. Muslim men are not supposed to wear
gold and he stopped wearing these rings.
In my library I have a few of my father’s books on alchemy. One in particular, a four-century-

old treatise, was his constant companion, always by his bedside. Every now and then, with little
comprehension, I read a page or two. It is filled with allegorical references and written in
classical Arabic. Typically, the book describes strange mixing procedures, instructing the
alchemist to ‘heat the mixture until it has become mature and accepted stability’; followed by
even more abstract parts to do with the quality of the practitioner’s state, telling him to be ‘an
instrument rather than a manipulator of the event.’
***
The second courtyard in our home was spacious and spanned two levels. It was named the
Dakhlani or inner house. Towering over this courtyard was a tall date palm. It was to this palm
tree, one memorable day, that Kareem and two other men came brandishing swords and daggers.
Kareem was the caretaker of our family orchard, the Bagh Jamal (Orchard of Beauty), situated a
few kilometers north of the town. He also occasionally looked into the development of the trees
(mainly orange) in our compound. This particular palm was ten years old now and had not yet
given fruit.
Failing horticultural persuasion, Kareem turned to more traditional measures. His two associates
sharpened, flourished and clinked their swords together as they danced around the tree calling
out, ‘What use is this palm tree if it doesn’t bear any fruit?’ Once it was determined that the palm
tree was suitably warned and frightened, Kareem interceded, begging the men to give the palm
tree another chance. ‘Next year’, he promised, ‘it will bear fruit’. After further prodding, poking
and pleading, the mystical troop departed, exhausted, but satisfied.
The following year the palm tree produced several branches of Karbala’s finest caramel colored
dates. My mother would climb up the palm’s trunk with agility to harvest the dates. She
continued to do this for years until her climbing career was cut short by the tree growing tall
enough to be exposed to the street outside, which had been recently opened.
14
Tragically, Kareem’s story does not have as happy an ending as the fruiting palm tree’s. The old
ladies of the house were sure that Kareem would eventually bring sorrow and the evil eye upon
himself by bragging about his good fortune. He would boast about the fruits of the orchard, about
his devoted wife, his hard working donkey, and most especially about his military prowess. One
night, he heard noises outside his little farmhouse and shouted to the intruder to reveal himself.
There was no response, but a shadowy figure continued to move outside. Kareem grabbed his
gun, shouted again, and then offloaded several rounds in the direction of the stooping figure a
few yards away. His pregnant wife was fatally wounded and died soon afterwards in his
trembling arms.
She had slipped out because she was sick and did not want to disturb her husband. She was a
shy, modest and soft-spoken lady. Kareem never recovered from this tragic event. A short while
later, his pregnant donkey expired whilst giving birth. Kareem was left standing alone and bereft
in the ‘Orchard of Beauty’.
No calamity befalls on the earth or in yourselves, but it is

inscribed in the Book of Decrees before we bring it into
existence. Verily, that is easy for Allah.
In order that you may not grieve at the things you fail to get,
nor rejoice over that which has been given to you. And Allah
likes not prideful. boasters.
– Qur’an (57: 22-23)
Our home, compound and way of life were part of the evolved Muslim culture. The collection of
houses, courtyards and their different functions such as the Burrani – the outer house, and Bayt
al Amma – the house of the aunts were typical of large family homes in the Middle East. As was
the habit of the Muslims, each house looked in onto a shady courtyard showing little to the road
and passers-by. This was not only to preserve the modesty of the women of the household, but
also to contain and shield household contents from praying eyes. Islam frowns on ostentation,
but for many of those concerned, more pressing than the chastisement of the hereafter was the
15
possibility of expropriation should a nasty governor or greedy prince thinks his subject’s excess
wealth could be a threat to his leadership.
Modesty is not present in anything but that it adorns it, and

evil is not present in anything but that it makes it ugly. Every
religion has its character, and the character of Islam is
modesty.
The number of inhabitants in the compound would vary from time to time, but usually there
would be seven or eight elderly ladies scattered between the houses attending to the chores; the
sweeping, washing and cooking as well as storytelling and child minding. None was paid a fixed
wage and all were considered part of the household. Their needs would be taken care of as and
when they occurred. Occasionally, visitors and guests would give them gifts of clothes, sandals
or special food. The servants in the household acted freely and they could come and go as they
pleased. They attended to their duties with the least supervision and were most respected by the
younger family members.
First amongst these women was the small, but powerful Nana Sekeena. She had come from
Isfahan, capital of the old Safavid 7 Empire, and was very proud of it. Not a day passed without
her reminding us, Isfahan nisfe jahan (Isfahan is half the universe). Love of Imam Hussein was
her first and lasting passion. Her second was to be exclusively in charge of the shopping, storing
and safeguarding of the household goods, which were packed away in a room exclusively used
for storage and tea making. Boiling water and tea were always available from morning till night,
kept simmering over small kerosene stoves. This room was on the second floor in the main house
and was known as the sanduq khana, ‘the box room’ because it had several black Zanzibari
wooden chests with brass trimmings and hinges large enough for us children to hide in.
7
The ruling dynasty of Iran and for a time parts of Iraq (1502-1736). They were the Ottomans’ greatest rivals in the
Islamic World.
16
Incorporated in Nana Sekeena’s authority was the maintenance of several ornamental cages for
canaries and nightingales, which were hung from the roofs and the feeding of the many cats
which looked longingly up at the cages. She was also in charge of insect extermination. During
summer, you would hear her pumping away at Imshi (go away), the local hand operated insect
spray puffing out diluted DDT. She was meticulously clean and fussy, an ancient skinny spinster,
inflexible in her ways, but unfailingly loyal to the family and unswerving in her antagonism to
my nanny, Mashti.
Cleanliness is half the faith and is the key to accepted prayer.
My devoted nanny, Mashti, was a Georgian widow who had come to live in northern
Mazanderan where she had married a wealthy landowner and borne him a son. After an epidemic
claimed both her husband and their son, the husband’s brother, a greedy and ambitious man,
managed to acquire his brother’s land, leaving Mashti with no inheritance. She was advised to
take refuge in Karbala and our family was recommended to her.
When she arrived I was a few months old, about the same age as her deceased child would have
been and so she dedicated her life to my upbringing. She would always tell me adoringly, ‘You
are my reason for living.’ She had translucent pearly skin, beautiful blue eyes and long blond
hair carefully made up into plaits, which I would often undo and pull. She was always available
for my childish demands, some of which in the manner of children who are certain of getting
their own way were no doubt unreasonable.
She was so attentive to me that she often pre-empted my wishes, whether it was the olive oil
soap I had forgotten before going to our Turkish bath, deep in the cellar of the house, or my
favorite fried onions with chicken livers. She was always on hand to do what I wanted making
sure no other members of the household competed with her, not even my mother. The poor
woman was often reprimanded for such excessive favoritism and was especially picked on by
Nana Sekeena.
17
Mashti’s other great quality was storytelling. During the blistering hot summer days, we would
spend most of midday in the cellars, being cooled by four badgirs, wind-catcher chimneys that
funneled cool air from outside. Then, at night, we would come up to the flat roof exposed to the
cool desert breeze and gaze upon the sparkling stars of a desert sky, drifting off into a world of
dreams whilst listening to the lady storytellers. Mashti was the acknowledged favorite. Umm al
Saadah, and Nana Hussein made up the complement.
Surely the heart of a child is like fallow ground: whatever is

planted in it is accepted by it.
– Imam Àli
Umm al Saadah was an old widow belonging to the prominent Arab tribe of Bani Asad (Sons of
the Lion), the same tribe that my mother belonged to. Saadah is the plural of Seyyid, meaning a
descendent of the Prophet; thus, her name literally meant mother of the descendents of the
Prophet, on account of her husband having been a Seyyid 8.
Umm al Saadah had a proud wrinkled face with strong Arab features. She was hard of hearing
and sight. We would often exploit these weaknesses for our amusement. We children had a
portable electric lamp with a small bulb and no lampshade. Umm al Saadah had never seen an
electric light close up and she had only seen them on ceilings or walls. One night, after she had
told us the evening’s story, we presented her with the ‘candle’ to blow out. Blow as she might, it
would not go out. We told her that this was jinni 9 lamp and that we had to whisper a secret name
before it could be extinguished. We performed the magic of commanding the light to die out,
which it did instantly. She was alarmed and concerned about the danger that may result from our
relationship with the jinn. After several futile attempts to blow the lamp out and our hearty
laughter, she came to realize the wonders of electricity,
8
A conservative estimate would be that there are over 20 million Seyyids stretching across the Muslim World,
though there are many more who are unknown or undeclared as there have been periods of persecution against the
Seyyids. The wearing of a black turban commonly indicates a Seyyid.
9
In Islamic tradition, the ‘jinn’ exist in the world of the unseen. Whereas the base elements of humans are earth and
water, the jinn are made of fire and air.
18
Nana Hussein was the most devout and eldest member of the household, wise and frail. She ate
little and prayed a lot, her black rosary always handy. Whenever one of us complained or
expressed discontent, she would answer, khair, khair (it is only goodness), then she would
produce some biscuits, raisins or nuts to give to us. It was only years later that I realized that the
wise see goodness and Divine mercy in every situation and event.
My mercy encompasses everything.
Qur’an (7: 156)
During summer nights, I would regularly be woken up at dawn by the sound of Nana Hussein
unlocking the doors of my aunt’s house to go to the Shrine. The doors to the houses had large
steel tong-like keys which would jangle loudly as they turned the three or four times necessary
before the door opened. My father once overheard me complaining about the annoyance of the
early morning noise. He told me, ‘it will take you the best part of forty years to realize that the
sound you dislike represents for Nana Hussein the opening of the gates to heaven.’ I was perhaps
then seven years old. The sound of my father’s teaching still resonates with me, and the peaceful,
happy face of Nana Hussein appears vividly before me in my mind’s eye.
It was some years later, whilst I was studying in England, that Nana Hussein passed away. My
mother wrote to me about how one day Nana Hussein had come to her and cheerfully announced
that she will die tomorrow. She was therefore requesting that my mother come and spend the
night in her room. ‘How do you know you will die tomorrow?’ my mother enquired. Nana
Hussein explained that the night before she had a dream in which she was taken into a vast
garden. In this garden were many beautiful homes and palaces, tendrils of scented flowers
cascading over ornate pavilions. She was then directed towards a house and was told that this
was her new home. She told her angelic guide that she could not stay there because it had no
roof. He answered that ‘the roof will be made tomorrow.’ From this, she concluded with
certainty, she would depart from this world the following day.
Nana Hussein showed my mother all that she had in her possession. Everything was prepared – a
few bags of rice, barley and other grains were to be cooked and distributed to the poor for three
19
days following her death and she gave my mother her small pouch containing the sacred dust
from Imam Hussein’s burial ground. A few drops of the dust would be prescribed for any
ailment, mixed in water or placed on the tongue. Throughout her life Nana Hussein kept this
small healing pouch next to her pillow. Throughout her life my mother too kept and sparingly
used the dust from this pouch.
My mother spent that night in Nana Hussein’s room reading the Qur’an until just before dawn.
At that time, Nana Hussein turned over towards my mother thankfully and closed her eyes
forever. She was buried mid-morning in our family mausoleum, next to the tomb of Imam
Hussein, a great and unexpected honor.
Detach your heart from this world before your body leaves it, for
you are tested in it, and you were created for other than it.
Surely when someone dies, the people say: ‘What has he left
behind?’And the angels say: ‘What has he sent ahead?’
– Imam Àli
In Karbala, whenever anyone died, the corpse would be taken immediately to one of the few
preparation places to be washed and shrouded. Then, the coffin would be carried by relatives,
friends or porters along the bazaars, alleyways and streets on its way to burial. As the procession
moved along, people would come out from their shops or houses and walk behind the dead body
or help to lift the coffin whilst chanting, La ilaha illa 'llah (There is no god but Allah). In this
way, every death in the town was felt by a large part of the population – a perpetual reminder as
to the fate of us all and the leap we will make from the stepping-stone of this life to the eternity
of the next.
Every Thursday, this reminder was reaffirmed communally, for Thursday picnics at the cemetery
were a major social event. The public cemetery of Karbala was vast. Not only did it
accommodate the local inhabitants of the city, but also the many thousands of coffins that were
brought from far and wide, reflecting the dying wish of many Shiàs to be buried in Karbala’s
sacred earth.
20
The picnics would be prepared from before the afternoon, with the women making Khubz al
Abbas 10 (the Bread of Abbas). The bread was kneaded from the flour of wheat and barley, rolled
flat and flavored with chives, onions, and garlic and then baked with mincemeat. At the
cemetery, the children would run and play, as the older people read Qur’an, wept and prayed for
the dead.
Visit graves and by this remind yourself of the next world.
– Imam Àli
Death was very much alive in Karbala. After all, the city was founded on the most tragic of
deaths. A death that shook the very foundation of the Islamic world, the shockwaves of which
resonate to this day. In 680, on the 10th day of the Islamic month of Muharram, the plain of
Karbala became the Plain of Martyrs.
10
Abbas was the younger half-brother of Imam Hussein, who was also killed at Karbala.
21
CHAPTER 2: The Plain of Martyrs
Muhammad is no more than a Messenger and Messengers before him

have passed away. If then he dies or is killed, will you turn
back upon your heels?
– Qur’an (3: 144)
At Ghadeer-e-Khum, on the return to Medina from his last hajj (pilgrimage) to Mecca, the
Prophet Muhammad addressed the people, ‘I leave behind amidst you two great things: The
Book of Allah and my progeny. Should you be attached to these two, never will you go astray
from me, for truly, these two will never part company until they both meet me at the Spring of
Paradise.’ Then he continued, ‘The Lord Allah Almighty is my Master and I am the master of
every true believer’, and taking the hand of Imam Àli, his cousin and son-in-law, he raised it
above the crowd. ‘He is the master of all those whose master I have been. O Allah, love those
who love Àli and hate those who hate him.’
Shortly after this, the Prophet Muhammad died. Yet, on the Prophet’s death, his elderly father-
in-law and close friend, Abu Bakr was proclaimed as the new Caliph of Islam. The Muslim ranks
had swelled dramatically in the last few years of the Prophet’s life. Àli was young and there
were those who felt he would be unable to hold together the nascent Islamic state. Three times
the mantle of leadership passed him by. The borders of Byzantium were rolled back, the
Sassanian 11 Empire melted and the banner of Islam swept all before it. Throughout, Imam Àli
was loyal, electing not to contest publicly the leadership of Muslims and helping the Caliphs
whenever it was in the interests of the people.
One day in June 656, a mob descended on the house of Ùthman (the third Caliph) in the capital
Medina. They were demanding justice from the misrule of Ùthman’s governors, and although
Imam Àli sympathized with the mob’s complaints, he sent his two sons, the Prophet’s grandsons
– Imam Hassan and Imam Hussein – to protect Ùthman. The mob overpowered them and after
11
Name given to the Persian dynasty and empire, which lasted from 224-651 CE.
22
gaining access to the house murdered Ùthman. Upon the news of the Caliph’s death, the Shiàtu
Àli, the followers of Àli – from which the word Shià comes – proclaimed Imam Àli as the
fourth Caliph of Islam.
Ùthman, although a close companion of the Prophet, had come from the Meccan ruling classes,
who had bitterly opposed and fought the Prophet in the early days of Islam. As the proceeds of
conquests poured in, Ùthman was unable to restrain his relatives’ greed for wealth and power.
Scarcely a generation after the Prophet’s death, the rule of money was undermining the rule of
God. The bonds of religion, which had held the early Muslims together, began to give way to the
bonds of the tribe.
Ùthman had appointed many of his relatives from the Bani Umayya 12 to key offices. It was
against their corruption and nepotism that the mob was protesting. One of these relatives,
Muàwiyah, the son of the Prophet’s old opponent Abu Sufyan, and the governor of Syria,
refused to acknowledge Àli as the new Caliph.
Àli is from me and I am from Àli. No one can discharge my duty

instead of me except Àli.
Banners were raised and the two armies met at the Battle of Siffin on the banks of the River
Euphrates. However, just as the Shià of Àli had victory in sight, Muàwiyah showed his guile.
Qur’ans were pinned to his soldiers’ spears, indicating a wish for arbitration under God’s book,
and the battle finished indecisively. Shortly after, during the month of Ramadan, as Àli
prostrated in prayer in the mosque of Kufa, an assassin struck him from behind 13. On his death,
the people of Kufa proclaimed his eldest son, Imam Hassan as Caliph.
12
The word ‘bani’ means ‘sons of. The Bani Ummaya was one of the more powerful clans amongst the larger tribal
grouping of Mecca – the Quraish. The Prophet also belonged to this tribe, although he was of the Bani Hashim clan.
13
The assassin was a member of the Kharijites (Seceders), a group that had originally supported Àli, but became
disillusioned when he agreed to negotiate with Muàwiyah.
23
In order to prevent bloodshed, Imam Hassan reluctantly agreed to sign a truce with Muàwiyah.
He retired to Medina to live a life of prayer and devotion until, at Muàwiyah’s instigation, he
was poisoned by one of his wives. In the truce with Muàwiyah, along with other agreements that
were flaunted, Imam Hassan expressly prohibited the election of Muàwiyah’s son, Yazid, as
Caliph; the latter being a notorious reprobate well known for his public wine drinking and
licentious behavior.
Despite this, on Muàwiyah’s death, Yazid was proclaimed as Caliph, Thus was ushered in the
Umayyads, the first usurping dynasty of the Islamic world. It was precisely against this
institutionalization of hereditary leaders that Imam Hassan had fought. Yazid, recognizing that
his position was precarious, immediately sent word to Medina that Imam Hussein be required to
take an oath of allegiance to him. If he refused, he was to be killed.
When asked to take the oath, the Imam suggested that the people should be summoned to the
mosque the next day and a consensus be taken as to whether he should or should not pay homage
to Yazid. This was refused, but the Governor of Medina feared recrimination if he killed the
Prophet’s grandson and thus spared him. Two days later, with a small group of family and
friends, Imam Hussein escaped, by night, to Mecca. From there, he set off on the journey
northwards, through the Arabian Desert towards his father’s old capital, Kufa. The citizens there
had pledged their allegiance to him and had begged for his presence.
On his way to Kufa, he came to a plain on the edge of the desert where some Babylonian villages
had once stood. He was told the place was known as Karbala; a name derived from ‘Kur Babul’
– meaning villages of Babylon. ‘Truly’, said the Imam, ‘this is the land of karb (anguish) and
balaa’ (misfortune). There he ordered the tents to be pitched.
Hassan and Hussein are the leaders of the youth of Paradise.
Every year, as Muharram approached, hundreds of thousands would flock to Karbala as the city
stirred in anticipation. Twenty days before Muharram began, large tents would go up in the open
courtyard surrounding the Shrine. The poles of these tents would be some twenty meters high
24
and broad enough for two or three of us boys clasping our hands together to only just encircle
one. Inside the tents were calligraphies, rugs and tapestries. Woven on the tapestries were
pictures of battle scenes and warriors. There was Dhu’l Fiqar, the legendary two-bladed sword
of Imam Àli and Dhu’l Jinah, the ‘winged horse’ of Imam Hussein.
In all, six or seven tents would be pitched inside the marble courtyard of the Shrine, each one
joined to the next so that sunlight was screened and it was cool inside. My favorite was the Sufi
or Dervish 14 tent at the back of the shrine. Although small compared to the others, it was
exquisitely colorful and certainly the most enticing and mysterious of the tents. Inside, incense
drifted through the air, rose water splashed onto faces, Turkish delight vanished into mouths and
men with the most impressive of beards sang and chanted praises of God and the Prophet. They
had come from Turkey, Iran, India, Afghanistan and further afield, each one with a staff and each
one with his own brand of headgear; turbans of all colors, sizes and styles, skull caps and tall red
fezzes.
A dervish is someone who is preoccupied in contemplating the next world and is least concerned
about this one. He is intoxicated with the spiritual realm, with its meanings and insights rather
than worldly acquisition. The word dervish comes from the Persian word ‘darweesh.’ Dar in
Persian means door and the true dervish wants to find a door out of the physical imprisonment of
the body to the Source of eternal life.
Secrets fall from the Sufi’s hand, whole kingdoms for the taking.
Unlike someone who begs on the street for bread, a dervish begs
to give his life away.
– Jalaluddin Rumi
‘There was One, there was no one, other than God there is no one’, so Mashti began her story.
‘There was a man who was quietly living out his life, until one day he caught a glance of the
princess of his city as she rode through the streets in her carriage. For a moment, her radiant face
14
The words Sufi and Dervish are interchangeable.
25
was accidentally exposed. The man was possessed and infatuated at first sight. From then on,
wherever he turned in his mind’s eye, he was haunted by the princess’ face. He resolved that he
could no longer live like this, whatever the cost, he must find a way of obtaining her hand in
marriage. There was, of course, a problem. He was an ordinary citizen, while she was the king’s
only beloved daughter. Her beauty was touted far and wide, kings and princes had come seeking
her hand, and all had been spurned, for the old king could not bear to lose her. What could this
wretched fellow possibly offer that the princely suitors had not?
Now in this city, there lived a renowned dervish. In desperation, the young man explained his
problem, begging the sage for whatever help he could provide. ‘I can help you marry the
princess’ the dervish promised, ‘but I need six months of total submission from you. During this
time, you must do exactly as I say.’ ‘Anything’, the desperate lover enthusiastically agreed.
The dervish took the suitor high up into the hills overlooking the city. There he was given a
patched robe, a rosary and ordered to sit cross legged in contemplation. He was told not to speak
to anyone at anytime nor accept any food or gifts. In addition, he was not to be seen eating or
doing anything other than meditating or praying.
As time wore on, the young lover’s beard began to grow, his hair fell unkempt around his ears
and he lost weight. Gradually, he began to look the picture of a wise and Godly recluse. The pure
mountain air and sparse food, which the dervish delivered intermittently, were having their
expected detoxifying effect. Helped along by the dervish’s rumors, our novice also began to gain
something of a reputation in the surrounding settlements.
The people climbed up to his retreat with their problems and desires. He would sit solemnly,
fiddling with his rosary beads and saying nothing. The profundity of his silence had a remarkable
effect on his visitors. Presuming they were in the presence of a greater being, his visitors turned
to introspection where they all seemed to find the answers they had come looking for. Soon, the
young sage of the mountain was heralded as a great, new saint. From far and wide, presents were
brought to him for his services though it was known by now that this man was so holy that all
gifts and offerings remained unopened on the ground around him.
26
After six months of this, and upon the dervish’s suggestion, the king decided to see the wise man
of the mountain for himself. Accompanied by the dervish and his entourage, he climbed the hills
towards the new saint’s perch with pomp and ceremony. The king, having heard many stories of
the saint’s miracles, was in a receptive state to experience miracles as a reward for his strenuous
efforts to reach the top of the mountain. The more difficult we consider an achievement, the
more we want to believe in its importance.
Sitting humbly beside the young sage, the king asked him numerous questions, all of which were
met with wise silence. After a while, the king began to feel that this man was answering his
questions without saying anything. He was so impressed by the composure and worldly
abstinence of the new saint that he asked him if there was anything that he, the devoted king,
could now do for him. The novice silently shook his head. ‘I must give you something’, pleaded
the king, ‘you are a blessing to my kingdom and my people, of whom you have helped countless
numbers.’ Once more, the novice shook his head, signaling his total contentment and disinterest
in kingly favors. Then, at length and slowly, the king continued, ‘I have one thing which is more
valuable to me than anything else. Many great men have begged me to give my princess to them,
but you are truly the only one who has proven himself worthy. Will you not take my daughter’s
hand in marriage?’ The novice looked up, smiled at the king and, in refusal, again shook his
head.
At this juncture, the dervish was gesticulating ferociously from behind the king’s back for his
novice to accept, but the novice was unmoved. The king got up and proclaimed, ‘Truly, this man
is a saint’, and set off back down the mountain. As soon as he was out of sight, the dervish
pounced upon his student, kicking, punching and cursing. ‘You idiot, what have you done! Six
months of work! Why didn’t you accept the king’s offer? You fool! Imbecile!’ The erstwhile
suitor got up and calmly brushed himself off. In measured words, he addressed the dervish. ‘For
six months, I pretended to be a pious man and I had the king at my feet. What if I actually was
pious?’
And Allah knows best.’
27
Hussein is from me and I am from Hussein. May Allah love whoever

loves Hussein.
On the 1st of Muharram (which is also the first day of the Islamic year), the flag flying above the
Shrine of Imam Hussein changes color. The huge blood red flag would come down and hoisted
in its place, for forty days, would flutter a jet-black cloth.
The visitors, whether individuals or groups, would percolate throughout the city, the streets
would become residences and alleyways toilets. Many houses become overcrowded temporary
hostels and the outskirts of the city was a huge campsite. Every night, the people would cook and
distribute food to the poor and the passers-by. The kerosene lamps and campfires would be lit,
and the lament of Karbala told and retold, fact and fantasy mixing indiscriminately and
irrelevantly as each group tried to outdo the next in grief and superlatives. With each passing
day, the intensity and fervor of the proceedings would increase. In the first few days, the scene
would be set.
Though Kufa was a Shià stronghold, Imam Hussein’s father and brother had both found to their
cost that when the people there were tested by force or bribery, the promises of the majority
would come to nothing. Thus, to ensure the sincerity of their requests for leadership, before he
left Mecca Imam Hussein had sent his cousin Muslim Ibn Àqil to appraise the steadfastness of
the Kufans. Encouraged by the enthusiastic welcome he received, Muslim sent words of
encouragement to the Imam.
It was the time of the Hajj pilgrimage and Imam Hussein had intended to stay in Mecca until
after performing the pilgrimage. When he heard of Yazid’s plan to have him killed while he
performed hajj, he decided to set off immediately so as not to desecrate the Holy Ka`ba 15.
Stunned by his decision to leave on the eve of the pilgrimage, the Muslims were perplexed and
15
The square building at the center of Mecca, which is draped in black during the month of Hajj. It is said that the
Ka`ba was built by the Prophet Abraham, as a symbolic house of God and it is towards it that Muslims pray.
28
asked why. ‘This year’s pilgrimage I have to perform at Karbala’, the Imam replied. When asked
what animals he would sacrifice, Imam Hussein pointed to his family, his half-brother Hazrat
Abbas, his eighteen-year-old son Àli al-Akhbar and his nephews. ‘These are my sacrifices’, he
had said.
As he was making his way to Kufa, the Imam heard word that Muslim had been executed in
Kufa. Yazid had sent the murderous Ibn Ziyad to assume the governorship of Kufa and crush the
people’s insurrection. Many of the Kufans, who were threatened with death and confiscation of
property, deserted the cause. The Imam warned those travelling with him of the dangers ahead
and told those who wished to leave that they should do so.
When they see affliction, there are few who adhere to their
religion.
– Imam Hussein
On the 2nd of Muharram, shadowed by a small contingent of Yazid’s army, they reached the
plain of Karbala, where the tents were pitched. On the 3rd, the main stay of Ibn Ziyad’s army
arrived from Kufa, commanded by Ibn Sa`d. The Imam’s water supply was cut off and by the
7th, his family and close followers were without water and fully surrounded by a large army. On
the 9th, Ibn Sa`d’s army marched onto the camp. Imam Hussein asked for one more day to be
with his family and supporters for their last prayers and supplications, which was granted.
***
Every year in Karbala, on the night of the 9th, the electricity generators would be switched off,
plunging the entire city into darkness. On this night of strangers, sham-e ghariban, candles are lit
as sorrow descends on the city in remembrance of the plight the Prophet’s family faced. As
Imam Hussein and his companions had done, the night would be spent in prayer and devotion.
Then, on the following morning, Ashura (literally meaning the 10th), the story and Battle of
Karbala is re-enacted. The tradition of the pageantry or ‘passion-play’ was probably an import
29
from India and Iran, a few centuries before, but now it had been taken up with gusto by the
Arabs.
If you could push your way through the massive crowd to the mukhayyam, the tented replica of
the Imam’s encampment near the shrine, you would see people dressed up as the family of Imam
Hussein and his enemies. Whoever played the part of the Imam would conceal his face with a
white cloth, for the Shià are not supposed to draw or depict the faces of the Prophets or Imams
(though this is not always adhered to). The white stallion, which played Dhu’l Jinah (the winged
one), would be well fed and groomed, ready by now for the great appearance. The unfortunate
actors playing Yazid or Shimr (the Imam’s killer) could well end up being assaulted as the
people’s enthusiasm got a little out of hand. The poor pseudo-Yazid could find himself running
for his life and often had to be given bodyguard protection. These acts and plays are called
shabeeh (the like of truth) and had become an important aspect of Shià tradition over the years.
Alongside the actors playing out their roles, the declaimers would re-live the legend of the battle
through the marthiyas or elegies of renowned poets. The poet’s16 words would come to life as
with choking emotion through the charged air, the intricate detail of every aspect of the battle
flowed out in hyperbole. Starting from the dawn of that fateful day, the poet would begin:
‘The sun had run its journey over the night;

Unveiled, the Dawn revealed her glorious face.
The king who rides the heaven saw her light
And called his brave companions to their place.
‘The time has come at last; to God give praise;
Arise! In fitting prayer your voices give raise.’
The 72 martyrs, ranging from 14 to 70 years old, came out to face the enemy. Dressed in the
cloak and armor of the Prophet, wielding Dhu’l Fiqar, his father’s sword and perfumed in musk,
Imam Hussein stood at their head. The time had come.
16
These verses are extracted and adapted from the marthiya of the Indian poet Mir Anis as translated by David
Matthews.
30
From the stamping of the horses, sand flew up;

The firmament filled like an hour-glass.
The dark blue sky became a dusty cap,
And blackness spread over valley, hill and pass.
The glow that lights the world was lost from sight;
The afternoon at once had turned to night.
Fighting the huge army of the enemy for most of the day, the desperately thirsty warriors fell,
one by one, with grace and nobility. Behind them, in the Imam’s camp, the women, children and
sick waited helplessly. Sakina, the Imam’s youngest daughter, piteously begged for water.
Abbas, the bravest of the men, hearing his niece’s cry, made for the enemy lines, his sword
cutting a path to the river through Ibn Sard’s army.
The sword of brave Abbas flashed with such power

That Gabriel sought protection from his Lord.
The son of Saàd there faced his final hour.
As lions spring to gain the river banks,
Abbas swam through the waves of serried ranks.
The guards of the Euphrates lost their heads
And like the river’s current flowed away
Abbas, dry-lipped, took water back to their tents,
And the Prince of Arabs fought again.
As Abbas emerged from the river to make his way back to the camp, an arrow hit the water
skins. Soon his blood was flowing alongside the water, as he lay dead by the side of the
riverbank. Meanwhile, Imam Hussein’s infant son, Àli Asghar, was also dying of thirst. Holding
his son in his arms, the Imam asked the enemy for some water for the baby.
He cradled Asghar in his warm embrace.

Outside in ambush lurked black Kahil’s son 17
Who fired a three-pronged arrow from his place;
Its target was the neck of the little one.
The baby cried in pain; the Leader thundered;
17
Hurmaila ibn Kabil, an expert bowman of Yazid’s army.
31
The tiny child was slaughtered by his side.
The Imam put down his murdered son on the desert sand and turned towards the killers.
Hussein swooped like an eagle from on high,

As lions in the jungle pounce on deer.
The heavens flashed; the clouds began to cry;
His horse rushed down like water swift and sheer.
The sharp sword cut the foe with thunderous crash;
They fell like mountains beneath the lightning crash.
Eventually, as the afternoon drew on, all seventy-one of his army of kith and kin lay dead. The
Imam was left standing alone to face Yazid’s army.
Ten thousand arrows dashed upon his chest;

A hundred at one time sought out their prey.
The spears transfixed his side and pierced his breast;
Ten struck for every four he pulled away.
Eventually, the blessed Imam succumbed to his fate.
Hussein falls from his mount – calamity!

His holy foot falls from the horse’s girth.
His side is gaping open – misery!
He swoons; his turban drops upon the earth.
The Qur’an has fallen headlong from its stand.
The Kaàba’s walls have crumbled into sand.
A soldier named Shimr stood over the Imam’s body, sword raised. ‘I grant you one last wish’, he
said, ‘Give me water’, the Imam replied. ‘I can give you anything but that’, smirked Shimr. ‘The
water is not for me’, exclaimed Hussein, and as he spoke, a spring gathered by his feet. ‘It was
for you, so that God might find some good reason to forgive you on the Day of Judgment.’
***
32
Through the streets, the human river surged. Ya Hussein, Ya Hussein, reverberated between the
walls and hearts of Karbala. Stripped to the waist in barefoot procession, the men beat their
chests in what is known as the latum (beating). Sharpened daggers, attached to chains, were
hoisted over shoulders to lacerate the mourners’ backs, rising and falling to the accompaniment
of drums and cymbals. Dulled swords clashed with bloodied foreheads. Blood and tears mixed in
the dust, as the azza, the expression of mourning, descended with an avalanche of emotion. My
father did not approve of the self-flagellation and discouraged our family from taking part in the
upheaval of the proceedings. Nevertheless, whenever any of these spectacles passed, you could
not help but let your own streaming tears join the prevailing current. The grief was contagious
and the love of remembrance of Imam Hussein’s stand against man’s vices and injustices always
swell in breasts and purify hearts.
The common people act by imitation, the distinguished act by love

and evidence, and the elite of the elite act by contemplation and
witnessing.
– Shaykh Àli al Jamal
Three days after the massacre, the bodies of the martyrs were discovered and buried by the Bani
Asad tribesmen who lived in the nearby town of Towaireej, about 10 miles from Karbala. In
commemoration, the Azza Towaireej would make their way towards Karbala. It was said that as
the Imam’s body lay exposed, a lion sat guard, protecting it from the circling vultures, and so
inevitably, a man in a lion skin costume would be produced, during the shabeeh. Once the
growling and swaying lion was removed from the display platform, the town’s people would be
fed from enormous trays, some two meters across, bearing mountains of rice topped with qeemah
(a stew of minced meat with chick peas).
Then, the town quietens until 40 days later when, according to local tradition, the Imam’s
severed head, which was taken to Damascus to be paraded at Yazid’s court, was reunited in
burial with his body. In a separate tradition, it is reported that the head was taken to Cairo and is
buried in the famed Mosque of the Head of Imam Hussein, opposite the Al Azhar University.
Under the dome of that famous mosque is an inscription relating to a Prophetic tradition that any
supplication made under the dome of Imam Hussein will be accepted. The mosque remains one
33
of Egypt’s foremost places of worship, for the love of Hussein is by no means limited to the
Shià world. Many of those who descend on Karbala in Muharram are Sunni Muslims.
It is generally estimated that the Sunnis constitute around 80 percent of the 1.3 billion Muslims
in the world, although they are a minority in Iraq. The word Sunni comes from sunna, meaning
the way or tradition of the Prophet, but the line between Sunnis and Shià is often blurred. Many
Sunnis, although not officially accepting Imam Àli as the rightful successor to Muhammad,
nevertheless hold great love and respect for the Prophet’s family and progeny, especially Imams
Àli, Hassan and Hussein and their mother of light, Fatima, the daughter of the Prophet. This can
clearly be seen in the vigorous Àshura celebrations of the Sub-Continent’s Sunni as well as
Shià Muslims. Equally, every Shià will strive to adhere to the sunna of the Prophet
Muhammad. The lesson of Karbala is for every Muslim.
Every day is Àshura, every place is Karbala.
– Ayatollah Khomeini
In a world where despotic and dictatorial leadership is the norm for most Muslim countries,
Ashura holds significance far beyond the ritualistic rites that have come to symbolize it. The
battle fought between Imam Hussein and the forces sent by Yazid to destroy him has forever
linked the name of Karbala to those oppressed by any tyrannical rule. It is so much more than the
‘brief military engagement’ the Encyclopaedia Britannica dryly refers to. It is to do with the
eternal question of what are the qualities of a man that make him worthy of leadership; is it
worldly power and political cunning or spiritual insight, justice, wisdom and enlightenment?
Saddam Hussein, for this reason, banned the Àshura celebrations, fearing that they could
become a rallying call against his own despotic regime.
On a profound level, the Battle of Karbala also symbolizes the ongoing battle between the higher
self or soul and the lower self, the ego. While the lower self asserts its ever-changing indulgences
and whims, the soul reflects the Divine light that animates it and calls it to joy, wisdom and
harmony.
34
Today, Imam Hussein is as alive in people’s hearts as when he lived. From all corners of the
world, millions visit Karbala to pay their respects. Conversely, no one sets off on a journey to
pay his or her respects to Yazid or his father Muàwiyah. No one even knows where Yazid is
buried. On one of my latter day visits to Damascus with a friend, Hosam Raouf, and with the
help of a local historian, we tried to find out where Muàwiyah was buried. We were eventually
taken to a narrow alleyway and a rather embarrassed guide pointed to a ladies public bath and
toilet. As far as he and the antiquities department in Damascus had been able to ascertain,
Muàwiyah’s final resting place lay therein.
Some time ago, I was asked to give my first public talk on Muharram to a crowd of British
Muslims. I prayed for inspiration, and that night had a wonderful dream. There was a fine black
tent, stretching towards the horizon. I was taken inside and saw the Prophet and his family
scattered in different parts of the tent. Imam Àli beckoned to me and said, ‘You wanted to talk
to my sons, and here they are.’ Both Imam Hassan and Imam Hussein appeared, as young men,
cheerfully exchanging pleasantries. I cautiously approached Imam Hussein and asked, ‘Do I have
your permission to talk about your martyrdom?’ ‘Of course you can’, he replied, ‘but only if you
depict me as you see me now; in perfect joy, in timeless bliss – not in any other way.’
It rained on the plain of Karbala and passed,

It turned the desert into a blooming orchard and passed.
He put an end to oppression for all time to come;
He created an orchard by watering the sands with his blood.
–Muhammad Iqbal
35
APPENDIX: Pictures
APPENDIX: Pictures
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APPENDIX: Pictures
212
eBooks By Zahra Publications
General eBooks on Islam
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different faith traditions, its spiritual benefits, rules and regulations.
Prophetic Traditions in Islam: On the Authority of the Family of the Prophet

Offers a comprehensive selection of Islamic teachings arranged according to topics dealing with
belief and worship, moral, social and spiritual values.
The Wisdom (Hikam) of Ibn Àta’allah: Translation and Commentary
216
Translation & Commentary by Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri

These aphorisms of Ibn Àta’Allah, a Shadhili Shaykh, reveal the breadth and depth of an
enlightened being who reflects divine unity and inner transformation through worship.
The Inner Meanings of Worship in Islam: A Personal Selection of Guidance for the
Wayfarer
Guidance for those who journey along this path, from the Qur’an, the Prophet’s traditions,
narrations from the Ahl al-Bayt, and seminal works from among the Ahl al-Tasawwuf of all
schools of thought.
The Lantern of The Path

Imam Ja`far Al-Sadiq
Each one of the ninety-nine chapter of this book is a threshold to the next, guiding the reader
through the broad spectrum of ageless wisdom, like a lantern along the path of reality.
The Pilgrimage of Islam

This is a specialized book on spiritual journeying, offering the sincere seeker keys to inner
transformation.
The Sayings and Wisdom of Imam Àli

Compiled By: Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri
Translated By: Asadullah ad-Dhaakir Yate
Carefully translated into modern English, a selection of this great man’s sayings gathered
together from authentic and reliable sources.
Transformative Worship in Islam: Experiencing Perfection

Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri with Muna H. Bilgrami
This book uniquely bridges the traditional practices and beliefs, culture and language of Islam
with the transformative spiritual states described by the Sufis and Gnostics.
Talks, Interviews & Courses
Ask Course ONE: The Sufi Map of the Self

217
This workbook explores the entire cosmology of the self through time, and maps the evolution of
the self from before birth through life, death and beyond.
Ask Course TWO: The Prophetic Way of Life

This workbook explores how the code of ethics that govern religious practice and the Prophetic
ways are in fact transformational tools to enlightened awakening.
Friday Discourses: Volume 1

The Shaykh addresses many topics that influence Muslims at the core of what it means to be a
Muslim in today’s global village.
Songs of Iman on the Roads of Pakistan

A series of talks given on the divergence between ‘faith’ and ‘unbelief ‘ during a tour of the
country in 1982 which becomes a reflection of the condition occurring in the rest of the world
today.
The Connection Between the Absolute and the Relative

This is a 1990 conversation with Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri, in which he talks about wide-ranging
topics on Islam and presents it as the archetypal, universal, Adamic path that began when
humanity rose in consciousness to recognize duality and began its journey from the relative back
to Absolute Unity.
The Spiritual Path: A Conversation with Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri On His Life, Thought
and Work
Professor Ali A. Allawi
In this wide-ranging conversation with Professor Ali Allawi, Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri talks about
his life story and the spiritual journey that he embarked on and the path he has been on ever
since.
Poetry, Aphorisms & Inspirational
101 Helpful Illusions

218
Everything in creation has a purpose relevant to ultimate spiritual Truth. This book highlights
natural veils to be transcended by disciplined courage, wisdom and insight.
Beyond Windows
Offering moving and profound insights of compassion and spirituality through these anthologies
of connections between slave self and Eternal Lord.
Bursts of Silence
Inspired aphorisms provide keys to doors of inner knowledge, as well as antidotes to distraction
and confusion.
Pointers to Presence
A collection of aphorisms providing insights into consciousness and are pointers to spiritual
awakening.
Ripples of Light
Inspired aphorisms which become remedies for hearts that seek the truth.
Sound Waves
A collection of aphorisms that help us reflect and discover the intricate connection between self
and soul.
Sublime Gems: Selected Teachings of Shaykh Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani

Shaykh Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani
Spiritual nourishment extracted from Shaykh Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani's existing works.
Autobiography
Son of Karbala
The atmosphere of an Iraq in transition is brought to life and used as a backdrop for the Shaykh’s
own personal quest for self-discovery and spiritual truth.
219
Health Sciences and Islamic History
Health Sciences in Early Islam – Volumes 1 & 2

Collected Papers By: Sami K. Hamarneh
Edited By: Munawar A. Anees
Foreword By: Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri
Health Sciences in Early Islam is a pioneering study of Islamic medicine that opens up new
chapters of knowledge in the history of the healing sciences. This two volume work covers the
development of Islamic medicine between the 6th and 12th centuries A.D.
220

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Publisher: Zahra Publications

ISBN-13 (Printed Version): 978-1905047-51-2

ISBN (E-Book Version): 978-1-919826-44-8

First Published in 2006

© Haeri Trust and Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri

Copying and redistribution of this eBook is strictly prohibited.

Table of Contents ............................................................................................................................. i

Book Description / About Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri

A new dawn has also appeared in spiritual travelogues with the

Bruce B. Lawrence, Professor Emeritus, Duke University

About Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri

Acknowledged as a master of self-knowledge and a spiritual philosopher, Shaykh Fadhlalla

Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Bethesda, Maryland, U. S. A.

Seyyed Hossein Nasr is Professor of Islamic Studies at George Washington University,

Listen to the reed how it tells a tale, complaining of

Oh my son! This world is like an ocean in which many a creation

CHAPTER 1: The House of Shaykh Ahmad

Allah makes ample provision for whom He wills of His bondsman,

– Qur’an (29: 62)

That which is not meant, the hand cannot reach

And Allah knows best.’

Oh my Son, establish regular prayer, enjoin what is just, forbid

– Qur’an (31: 17)

A man will not find sweetness of faith until he is heedless of

Surely, the hypocrites strive to deceive Allah, but it is He who

– Qur’an (4: 142)

– Qur’an (7: 180)

There is no good in worship without pondering upon its meaning,

– Ibn Ata’ Allah Iskandari

In my library I have a few of my father’s books on alchemy. One in particular, a four-century-

No calamity befalls on the earth or in yourselves, but it is

– Qur’an (57: 22-23)

Modesty is not present in anything but that it adorns it, and

Cleanliness is half the faith and is the key to accepted prayer.

Surely the heart of a child is like fallow ground: whatever is

My mercy encompasses everything.

Qur’an (7: 156)

Visit graves and by this remind yourself of the next world.

CHAPTER 2: The Plain of Martyrs

Muhammad is no more than a Messenger and Messengers before him

– Qur’an (3: 144)

`Ali is from me and I am from `Ali. No one can discharge my duty

Hassan and Hussein are the leaders of the youth of Paradise.

And Allah knows best.’

Hussein is from me and I am from Hussein. May Allah love whoever

‘The sun had run its journey over the night;

From the stamping of the horses, sand flew up;

The sword of brave Abbas flashed with such power

He cradled Asghar in his warm embrace.

The tiny child was slaughtered by his side.

Hussein swooped like an eagle from on high,

Ten thousand arrows dashed upon his chest;

Eventually, the blessed Imam succumbed to his fate.

Hussein falls from his mount – calamity!

The common people act by imitation, the distinguished act by love

– Shaykh `Ali al Jamal

Every day is `Ashura, every place is Karbala.

It rained on the plain of Karbala and passed,

eBooks By Zahra Publications