Sufism and Subud
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Subud is a spiritual
association founded by Muhammad Subuh, a Javanese Muslim born in 1901.
Surprisingly for a movement originating in a country without an international
reputation for spirituality, in 1957 Subud attracted attention and spread all
over the world, drawing in previous followers of other spiritual paths,
including members of all the main religious faiths, as well as seekers of no
previous persuasion.
Sufism is the transformative
interpretation of Islam. Many of the foremost figures in classical Sufism,
however, espouse doctrines which orthodox Muslims regard as foreign to their
religion. Its area of operation centres on the Middle East and Asia. Certain
aspects of it have attracted attention among spiritual seekers in the west, largely
due to the pioneering efforts of one of its most well-known 20th century
exponents, Idries Shah (d. 1996).[1]
Some
authors have placed Subud and Sufism in relationship with each other. Ann
Bancroft’s book, Modern Mystics and Sages, for example, has a chapter on Pak Subuh in the section ‘Masters with a
Sufi Background’. Other authors have made similar assumptions.
It is
also the line taken by Idries Shah. Muhammad Subuh, on the other hand, has
flatly denied any causal link between Subud and Sufism. The question of the
origin of Subud cannot therefore be said to be unequivocally established in the
way that the origins of other movements are established. There is some
justifiable doubt about it.
Subud
claims to be a spiritual phenomenon in essence unconnected with any previously
existing vehicle, representing a new paradigm in which a power beyond human
life is authorised to be directly accessible to all, not only to the prepared
few as in the past, and in which the old methods requiring specific training and
dependence of the pupil upon the teacher are superseded. But if Subud can be
proved to be no more than a Sufi spin-off, then we must — at least in this case
—question the idea of an entirely new dispensation or new model of spiritual
transformation.
To
anyone embarking on a comparative study there does in fact appear to be a good
deal of overlap between the Subud method and Sufi teaching and practice. The
shared territory consists in certain concepts and terminology, and in the
spiritual practice itself.
In
Subud the constant and active element is the exercise of submission known as latihan kejiwa’an — an Indonesian expression
which translates roughly into English as ‘training (latihan) of the content of the inner self (jiwa)’. The latihan kejiwa’an is a voluntary state of submission in which an inner energy is felt.
This energy motivates the participant in a way that corresponds to his or her
condition at that moment. In contrast to the religious concept of submission
which is linked to external factors such as belief, teaching or the adoption of
a certain prescribed attitude, submission in Subud is held to be directly to
the power of God without effort or intermediary. To introduce any effort or
intermediary is counterproductive in this context.[2]
In
Sufism, direct submission to God is also the central theme. Although this
factor is not much mentioned in Idries Shah’s anthologies, it is of paramount
importance in all the Sufi classics from which he draws. What the Sufi writers
allude to, in this context, is a state represented by such terms as
‘drunkenness’, ‘abandonment’, ‘absorption into the infinite’ and so on, which
come about as a result of complete surrender, and not by means of one’s own
effort. A key concept is that of ‘fana’ (annihilation) and ‘baqa’ (remaining); the idea being that when everything is given up — all
desires, expectations, fears and imaginings without exception — then what
remains is the true inner self.[3]
It
should be added that neither in Sufism nor in Subud is spiritual experience the
final aim. The shared doctrine states that from the practice of surrender will
arise inner guidance, which must be followed, otherwise the practice is without
value. It is no use praying, doing exercises or holding certain beliefs all
your life on the assumption that this alone will ‘get you into Heaven’. What is
received must be put into effect otherwise there will be no inner development.
There may even be an inner deterioration.
The
principle of submission to the highest universal power gives rise to many
parallels between Subud and Sufism in theory and practice. They do, on the face
of it, have so much in common that it would be quite reasonable to suppose that
they are connected, and that in all probability the more recent (Subud) is derived
from the more ancient (Sufism). This is the impression given by Idries
Shah.[16]
Shah
states that Subud is a Sufi popularisation and that the Subud latihan is a Sufi
exercise. He likens the Subud exercise of surrender to one practised by the
great Sufi teachers Abdul Qadir al-Jilani and Khwaja Bahauddin Naqshband and
their followers.[4], [5]
Pak
Subuh’s position is that the latihan exercise was not learned by him from
anyone nor given to him by anyone. He claims that it came to him in a
completely unexpected way from a level beyond that of human life. At the age of
twenty-four, after many years of spiritual study and discussion which by his
own account was leading nowhere, he was walking along the street late one night
when a ball of radiant white light descended out of the sky and entered his
body through the head. This extremely startling experience was the beginning of
a further series of intense experiences for Pak Subuh which he described in
terms already familiar to him, but the purpose of which he did not as yet
understand. He continued throughout it all to try to lead an ordinary outward
life and observe the Muslim religion in the normal way.[7]
Shah’s
first published mention of Subud appears in his book The Way of the Sufi, first published in 1970.
Having stated that Subud is a Sufi popularisation whose technique is of
Naqshbandi-Qadiri origin, he goes on to say that what is valued in Subud is the
experience rather than the process of development, with the result that the
opportunity for inner transformation is missed. People leave the movement when
they cease to have strong experiences, the rest remaining as ‘stalwarts’.[16]
Shah
seems to be saying that the latihan exercise of surrender to the power of God
is a valid developmental exercise, only that it originates in Sufi practice. If
Shah is right, we are left with the question of how Pak Subuh acquired it from
the Sufis. Nowhere in any of Shah’s references to Subud does he explain this
question, and neither do any members of his group in their published work,
although they echo Shah’s disparagements.[6] Ernest Scott (the pen-name of
retired journalist Eddie Campbell) mentions Subud several times in his book The People of the Secret (Octagon), and although
he gives detailed accounts of how various spiritual initiatives in the west can
be traced back to Sufi origins, he does not do this with Subud.
Pak
Subuh’s own account of the origin of the latihan is described in his brief
autobiography, posthumously published.[7] He states that what he received was
directly from a higher source, not through the medium of any teacher, and that
Subud of itself contains no teaching. In his talks he sometimes mentions the
Sufis. He refers to them on one occasion as ‘experts in the tariqa’. (Islamic tradition divides religion
into four levels: sharia, strict observance; tariqa, path of study; haqiqa, reality; marifa, higher knowledge.) Although this seems to be damning with faint
praise, Pak Subuh is known to have held the 12th century Sufi teacher Abdul
Qadir al-Jilani in high esteem, saying that he had received the latihan on an
equivalent level to Subuh himself. Which accords with Shah’s attribution of the
latihan exercise to Sufi origins. Pak Subuh also mentioned, among others,
George Fox, the English founder of the Society of Friends (who lived five
centuries after Jilani), as having received the latihan.[15] Fox is not known
to have been in contact with Sufis. Independent accounts exist of latihan-like
phenomena occuring without Sufi connections; for example among Eskimos.[12]
Pak
Subuh’s autobiography contains accounts of meetings during the period of his
spiritual search with benevolent beings possessing unusual powers. Apart from
Kiai (spiritual master) Abdurrachman, referred to below, these personages were
not reputed to be Sufis. The important point is that Subuh denies receiving any
transmission from them, or even any regular teaching, and claims that he
received contact with the power of God in a supernatural way, without any human
intermediary, at a moment when he was not concerning himself with spiritual
matters at all. In effect, he denied absolutely any origin, Sufi or otherwise,
for the latihan other than God alone.
Pak
Subuh attested that the dynamic experience known in Subud as the latihan is
actually far older than Subud, and has been with mankind from the very
beginning — ‘since Adam’, in fact. He says that it is a potential present in
every single person, and that there is no group and no path to which it
‘belongs’. It exists now and has existed in the past in many groups and
individuals, with or without a label. So no-one can have any claim over it. In
Shah’s work much the same position is taken regarding higher knowledge and Sufi
techniques of spiritual development, the source of which is the birthright of
all human beings and has existed ‘since Adam’.
Shah’s
emphasis on the selective nature of Sufi recruitment therefore appears in
contrast to the position taken by the majority of Sufi teachers, until one
reflects that all spiritual progress is really self-selection. The path is
always in front of every individual, but only a few are able to recognise it
and, having chosen it, to remain on it. Nevertheless, there is a delineation in
Shah’s mind between genuine Sufism and what he calls imitation or
popularisation.
Subud
is clearly not a Sufi imitation, since it does not aspire to be Sufism. Nor is
it very effective as a popularisation, since there are (according to Shah)
literally millions of people involved in the genuine Sufi enterprise, whereas
Subud members are numbered only in thousands. Shah’s own successful
popularisation of Sufism in his books and lectures has brought Sufi ideas
before millions. Subud, by contrast, has reached relatively few people —
perhaps 200,000 at most. This makes Shah’s description of Subud look a little
disproportionate. Nevertheless the implication remains that Subud is a Sufi
derivative.
I
would like to look at how, from the Sufi perspective, Pak Subuh could be seen
to have come by the contact which appears from the literature to be the central
principle in classical Sufism, bearing in mind his denial of any Sufi
involvement.
In Journeys with a Sufi Master (H. M. Dervish,
Octagon) accounts are given of a number of Sufi operational methods. These
include both overt and covert work. Overt work consists of observable
activities such as the publication of books, the giving of lectures, the
teaching of exercises to groups and the like. Covert work consists of the
introduction of ideas and practices into society at large, the transmission of baraka (a beneficial power), telepathy,
‘teaching at a distance’ and so on. Now, as a Javanese living at a time when
the esoteric ideas of Islam still exerted influence among the general public,
Pak Subuh would almost certainly have come into contact with Sufi methods. And
it is known that he did. As a young man he was enrolled into a Naqshbandi group
under the tutelage of Kiai Abdurrachman. He did not remain with the group long,
but it could be claimed that here was the source of transmission of baraka which led to Pak Subuh’s later
spontaneous receiving. That would be an example of covert Sufi action operating
in the context of overt Sufi activity. Covert work by definition, of course,
includes all manner of things to which no external evidence attaches. However,
there are several points in Pak Subuh’s life at which ‘mysterious strangers’
appear. The most significant of these is shortly after his birth.
Interestingly, this is claimed to be a standard Sufi operational method
occurring in both history and folk-lore.[8]
A sage/fairy/mysterious stranger appears soon after the birth of a
certain special individual and confers baraka on him or her by means of a certain intervention or gift. (One thinks
immediately of the Sleeping Beauty and of Jesus!) In Pak Subuh’s case the
mysterious stranger contrived to have the infant’s name changed from Sukarno,
the name his parents had given him, to Muhammad Subuh. (‘Subuh’ is the Indonesian form of the Arabic ‘subh’ meaning ‘dawn’.)
There
are other instances in Pak Subuh’s life that could be pointed to as likely
examples of Sufi contact, but it is not necessary to go into them all. Suffice
it to say that there is enough circumstantial evidence to make a convincing
case for the Sufi origin of Subud.
Unfortunately
one would then be faced by another problem: the question of why Pak Subuh
refuted any connection between Subud and Sufism. That he was involved for a
time with a Naqshbandi group and even learned some ideas and terminology from
this source is indisputable, although Sufism in general left him
unimpressed.[9] As for the origin of
the latihan exercise, he stated that it had not come about through any teaching
or preparation. He said that he did not know why he personally was selected to
receive it, but that he had always trusted only in God and wanted to meet God,
and had never been interested in gaining spiritual experiences for their own
sake. Having been sent the latihan, however, and followed it faithfully for
some years, trusting only in the guidance and protection of God without any
clear idea initially of its purpose, he was given the understanding and the
inward command to supervise the spreading of the contact and to help and advise
those who received it.[7]
How
well he carried out his task is for history to judge, but that is Pak Subuh’s
position on the matter. There is the possibility that he was lying about how he
got this power, but such a thing is hard to credit for a number of reasons. He
was a simple and modest man who did not strive after effect. His appearance and
behaviour were unexceptional, and his talks were in colloquial and
straightforward Indonesian. Secondly, he was not interested in making
propaganda. He was, as head of the Subud movement, invited many times to attend
world conferences of religious leaders, but always declined. He was
nevertheless a confident public speaker, able to address gatherings of upwards
of a thousand people, including prominent political and religious figures, with
complete fluency for hours at a time. Thirdly, the latihan which originated
with him and which he passed on is acknowledged to be a genuine developmental
technique — not something easily acquired, if we are to believe Sufi doctrine,
and especially not by someone motivated by self-interest or prone to delusion.
It
seems unlikely, then, that Pak Subuh was a liar or that he was deluded. Another
possibility is that he was a ‘receiver’,[8] an unwitting passive instrument of
covert Sufi activity. He could in this case have been recognised as possessing
a certain sensitivity which could be useful for the Sufi work but only so long
as he was unaware of the mechanism acting on him. The question then facing us
is: Was this an experiment which did not work? In other words, was Pak Subuh
intended to play a part in the Sufi work but failed to do so? This explanation
would be the most plausible, given that one accepts the idea of hidden Sufi
enterprise, were it not for the lack of any specific information to this effect
from the Sufis themselves. If books such as The
People of the Secret can prove the Sufi origins of
influential European esoteric movements from the middle ages to the present
day, one cannot help wondering why, if like information exists about Subud, it
has not been made available.
A
different theory altogether was proposed to me by Eddie Campbell, a former
Subud member and erstwhile pupil of John Bennett,[10] whom I approached with
this question. He told me that he believed it possible, through contact with
even deteriorated Sufi groups, to come into contact with baraka left over from genuine Sufi influence.
Pak Subuh, he said, was a simple-minded but extremely sensitive individual
whose contact with Abdurrachman’s Javanese Naqshbandi group had sparked off a
spontaneous reaction taking the form of his subsequent extraordinary
experiences. (The fact that Abdurrachman apparently considered himself Pak
Subuh’s spiritual inferior, and eventually expressed the desire to receive the
Subud contact himself[11] would not, according to this theory, preclude the
possibility of his having been a channel for the appearance of the latihan
phenomenon.)
Abdurrachman
is recorded as having stated that he could not teach Pak Subuh anything, and
that what he (Subuh) was to receive would be ‘directly from God’, and not from
any teacher.[7] Abdurrachman apparently knew in advance what was going to
happen (something that even Pak Subuh did not know) so it is unlikely that he
would have transmitted the requisite baraka accidentally. If, on the other hand, he was using a conscious ploy in
order deliberately to transmit baraka ‘under cover’ by lying to Pak Subuh about it, then the Sufis are
directly responsible for the existence of Subud, which causes the difficulties
I have mentioned above. Secondly, as attested by Eddie Campbell himself, from
his own experience, Pak Subuh was a humble man of impeccable character who was
able to bring about dramatic healing miracles, to practise autokinesis and
perform paranormal feats of an unusually high order. These powers, if he
possessed them, mark Pak Subuh out as a formidable spiritual presence. Pak Subuh’s
own explanation of the origin of the latihan ought therefore to be considered
at least as plausible as any competing one, including the theory of surplus baraka.
It
seems that Subud cannot really be regarded as a Sufi popularisation. For that
to be true, the spiritual technique of the latihan would have to have been
deliberately appropriated from Sufi practice, which it clearly was not. I have
no doubt that exercises of surrender of various kinds are practised in certain
Sufi groups, though whether they are experienced exactly the same way as the
Subud exercise it is not possible for me to say. From my contact with the group
attached to Idries Shah’s brother, Omar Ali Shah, and from conversations with
former pupils of Idries Shah, it is clear to me that such a practice is not in
fact part of the repertoire of the Shah groups.
A
factor which might contribute to Idries Shah’s opinion of Subud is, as
mentioned earlier, the quantity of Sufi terminology used by Pak Subuh. The
avowed spiritual aims of Subud and Sufism are closely similar: development of
the individual spiritual nature to the point of the complete human being (insan-i-kamil). Among other Arabic terms
used both by Pak Subuh and by Sufis are nafs, haqiqa, tawwakul, alam
lahut, etc. etc.; both refer to the ‘four essences’ (earth,
water, air and fire), the ‘four states of life’ (material, vegetable, animal
and human), jinns, angels, and, of course, God. It should also be pointed out
that there is a great deal of Sufi terminology and conceptual material which is
not used by Pak Subuh (wine, intoxication; fana
wa baqa, hal wa maqqam; the prophet Khidr; zaman, makan, ikhwan (time, place and people); murshid, shaikh, naib, abdal, etc.
etc.). In fact the bulk of Pak Subuh’s material is not shared with the Sufis.
It is mostly his own, but there is much Hindu and Javanese tradition there
too.[14]
The
solution to the problem of shared terminology seems fairly simple: Pak Subuh
was a Muslim. Consequently he used Arabic terminology which comes from the
Qu’ran and the Hadith (traditions of the Prophet) and is used by all Muslims,
including Sufis. He did not very often employ terminology which comes from
non-conventional sources within Islam, such as, for instance ‘zikr’ or the syllable ‘hu’. Hence much of his terminology coincides with that
of Sufism where it accords with orthodox Islamic teaching, but not where it
refers to the more esoteric aspects of Sufi practice.
Nevertheless,
it is possible for the Sufi expert to detect in Pak Subuh’s talks some elements
foreign to the Qu’ran and the Hadith which are commonly found in Sufi teaching.
I quote the following as examples:
In
your ordinary state of being, you are not. So even though you live, actually
you don’t exist.
Man
can be changed only if he is changed entirely.
The
real Qu’ran is not a book. It is a living movement within the being of man.
Draw
close to people with ability, draw close to good-hearted people, draw close to
people who remain patient, trusting in God and sincerely submitting to Him.
Draw close to people with insight, and finally draw close to the power of God.
The
idea exists in religion that if you want to get closer to God you have to pray
all the time. But this is still wrong, because it is something that you are
forcing, which is not natural.[17]
These
statements could be taken as evidence that Pak Subuh used Sufi ideas. The
assumption would follow that he got them from Sufis (particularly from the
famous Naqshbandi teacher Kiai Abdurrachman) despite his denial of such a
suggestion, which in any case would be to assume a linear cause-and-effect
relationship between human beings where the acquisition of true knowledge is
concerned. Sufi teaching states that this is not necessarily how it works:
There
are two kinds of search. One is by tradition or transmission. The seeker who
follows this way enters the world of manifestation and must return to the
source by the same path. The other is the way of purification, which is the way
of the Masters. In this way the tradition counts for nothing; all that matters
is to keep one’s intention exclusively fixed on the Supreme Being.[18]
Regarding
the acquisition of knowledge, Pak Subuh said, ‘It is not possible for the
thinking mind to plumb those depths unless it is the will of God Himself. Then
there will be a pouring from the fount within and the door will open wide from
within the real inner self.’[17] According to this view there are two types of
understanding, the lesser or shallower that comes from the thinking mind and
the greater or deeper that comes from beyond the thinking mind and for which
the thinking mind only plays the role of willing servant. In the introduction
to his Futuh al-Ghaib
(Revelations of the Unseen) Abd-al Qadir al-Jilani says, ‘From among such
statements as the tongue is enabled to utter, the power of speech to express,
the fingers to record and the eloquence of language to explain, here are some
words that arose and emerged for me as “Revelations of the Unseen”. They
alighted within my being and occupied its inner space, till the energy of the
experience brought them forth and made them outwardly apparent.’ (Trans:
Mukhtar Holland, Al-Baz.)
For
Idries Shah to say that Subud is a form of Sufism may be correct in the broad
sense that at the core of Sufism lies the same principle as that which lies at
the core of Subud, but not in the specific sense that the energetic experience
of Subud is, or ought to be, acquired by engaging in Sufi activity. Equally,
when Pak Subuh says that Subud has no link except to the power of God, this
should not be taken to mean that the central principle of Subud cannot be part
of any other spiritual practice, a claim which he was in fact careful to refute.
I have
touched briefly on the role of the spiritual teacher, and I think it is worth
discussing it a little further.
A
teacher is considered indispensable by the Sufis, at least because unless one
is taught, one cannot learn. There are other, higher reasons for the existence
of a teacher, such as the transmission of baraka and other hidden functions. But from the Sufi perspective, people who
imagine that they can learn without a teacher, or can teach themselves, are
likely to be suffering from vanity and arrogance, in which case they will only
lead themselves into fantasies. The Subud approach is rather different. Pak
Subuh maintained that a teacher is not necessary when one can receive directly
from God, and will, on the contrary, only act as an obstacle. The Subud belief,
consequently, is that if one has a tendency towards fantasies, or indeed any
other concealed psychopathology, practice of the latihan will eventually bring
this to the surface.
For
Pak Subuh, God is the only real spiritual teacher. In Sufism it is held that a
teacher is necessary at the early stages of the path, but later on, when one
has been brought into contact with the inner guide and has received the inner
command, one can do without a teacher, and can begin to teach others. In Subud
no-one teaches anyone else, but contact with the ‘inner teacher’[19] happens
gradually on its own by means of regular practice of the latihan. No external
direction is required, and it is up to the individual as to how far this
process can go.
The teachings
of the Sufis are held by Sufi students to be of the highest importance in the
course of spiritual transformation. The explanations of Pak Subuh are held in
equal regard by the majority of those who follow the Subud latihan. But Pak
Subuh’s position is that no teaching or explanation, however lofty, can by
itself bring about spiritual progress. The words are not the means, they are
the description. This point is significant, for if the capacity is not there to
understand what is really intended, all teaching is of no use and is even
counter-productive, resulting perhaps in the belief that the teaching is the
truth and that no change in understanding is ever necessary.
But
how is capacity to be produced? For the Sufi student, the teacher, by his example,
his instructions and especially his baraka, provides the means. For the Subud member, the means are provided in
the latihan exercise by passive inward attunement and active co-operation with
the resulting guidance. I do not believe there need be any conflict between the
two methods, since both acknowledge the same goal: that of returning to Source,
and of undergoing fundamental change in order to become a human being able to
act with vision, wisdom and compassion.
In
this short investigation, in speaking of Sufism I have confined myself to the
non-exclusivist perspective of Idries Shah. Although Shah claims that his
presentation is that of the ‘real Sufis’ as opposed to the imitators, it is far
from being the only credible one; there are many Sufi groups and orders with
impeccable pedigrees who do not share it. One of them is the Naqshbandi group
under Sheikh Nazim al-Haqqani, a pupil of Abdullah Daghestani. (Daghestani was
the Sheikh whom Ronimund von Bissing recommended to John Bennett before the
arrival of Subud and who told Bennett to expect an event of great importance,
something which would bring together Islam and Christianity, which Bennett took
to be the coming of Subud.) Having spoken to members of Sheikh Nazim’s group I
have been given to understand that Daghestani’s line of Sufism is of the
exclusively Muslim variety, and that it traces directly back to Bahauddin
Naqshband. Shah’s line, they say, is different. Another Sufi leader that I have
spoken to is Dr. Javad Nurbakhsh, head of the Iranian Nematollahi order, who
told me that he was not in direct contact with Shah.
All
Sufi groupings appear to regard themselves as autonomous, a fact noted by
Bennett.[13] This casts doubt upon the information given by Shah that there is
a centralised Sufi organisation able, among other things, to decide what is
correct Sufi practice and what is not. There is evidence, however, of such an
organisation currently operating[8] whose titles correspond very accurately
with those referred to in the Baghdad lectures of Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani given
in the 12th century AD.[5] This correspondence supports the idea that some kind
of centralised Sufi organisation does in fact exist, and has existed for at
least eight hundred years.[20]
Returning
to the question of the actual origin of the Subud latihan, there can
unfortunately be no conclusion of the sort that may be stated in hard factual
terms. Since we seem to be in the politicians’ and preachers’ domain of
unverifiable claims, we can at best look at the reputations of those whose
words we are being asked to accept. An important element of progress in
spiritual matters (as in law and business) is that one does not simply take on
trust what one is told, no matter who is saying it. A fact should be
demonstrable. An opinion, until it becomes demonstrable, remains just an
opinion. In the absence of any evidence in support of his claims that Subud
derives from Sufism as currently practised, Shah’s case does not hold very much
water. His students and sympathisers, however, will tend to accept his view.
Pak Subuh’s account of the supernatural origin of the latihan is beyond factual
authentication, by definition. Nevertheless, anyone who has experienced it in
any depth will be predisposed to believe him.
For
the follower of Idries Shah, Subud will be what Shah implies it is: a
deteriorated form of Sufism — until he or she has personally verified whether
the higher knowledge through direct experience which Sufism aims at is
available in Subud or not. (Ex-Subud members who have joined the Shahs do in
fact regard the Subud latihan as valid, but see the Subud movement itself as
defective partly because it lacks the Shahs’ style of leadership.) For Subud
members, Sufism will be what Pak Subuh says it is: a theoretical teaching
system without access to the reality of what it teaches — until they have
studied the actual texts and discovered whether or not they provide evidence to
the contrary, or until they have placed themselves under a real teacher and
experienced the transmission of baraka by means of the teacher’s instructions. They may then conclude that
Sufism’s espousal of teachers does not necessarily invalidate its teachings!
Whatever
the facts of the origin of Subud are, believing what one is led to believe is,
in my experience at least, far less important than gaining what is there to be
gained. Followers of spiritual movements may be attached to their group in such
a way that they cannot benefit from it, because their beliefs are too fixed. It
is unfortunate that, while one must entertain some beliefs in order to approach
a spiritual path at all, those very beliefs often lead to inflexibility.
Both
Idries Shah and Pak Subuh, despite their differences, are alive to the problem
of fact versus fantasy and the role of belief and doubt in spiritual matters.
Idries Shah, drawing on Sufi psychology, has many helpful things to say about
prejudice and conditioning. Also, since spiritual experience operates in a
sphere beyond that of the ordinary mind, it is possible for people to have
unusual feelings, flights of fancy or even hallucinations and take these for
evidence of higher reality. Such people are likely to be highly suggestible.
Alongside this danger is its opposite: the cynical attitude which refuses to
entertain any higher experience on the grounds that it is likely to be fantasy,
and ‘I don’t want to be taken in’.
Pak
Subuh maintained that the latihan provides the proof that people are searching
for, since personal experience is the only means of authenticating anything,
and that on that basis evidence is not dependent on him or anyone else. His
position is that in the latihan what one believes in or doubts is one’s own
self, and it is only through our own self that we ultimately find God.
Idries
Shah asks us not to depend on others but to work things out for ourselves; he
demands that we do not ‘approach Sufism empty-handed’, by which he presumably
means that we must have something of our own to build on, some awareness of
truth to contribute, before we start. He warns us constantly to be on our guard
against Sufi imitations, but lays the blame at our feet if we make the wrong
choice; ‘Like calls to like.’ The difficulty that many would-be students of
Sufism encounter here is the apparent impossibility of ‘adopting the correct
posture’ towards Sufi study by means of one’s own efforts, so that one can
‘become acceptable’. Those who have approached Shah and been ignored are more
than likely to have lost heart on this account.
Pak
Subuh, on the other hand, says that we cannot approach the spiritual life with
anything other than a faulty motive; ‘to search for God is wrong and not to
search for God is wrong’. His answer to this conundrum lies neither in
searching nor in refusing to search but in surrendering to God who is there
anyway, whether we search or not.[21] When one has experienced something
unmistakable in this way, one’s difficulties may not be so much to do with
gaining acceptance as with attaching sufficient value to what one has actually
gained.
Punnetts
Town, East Sussex 1998
SUBUD
AND SUFISM/NOTES
1.
Though his literary skills and influence are undeniable, Idries Shah’s
credentials are not universally accepted either by Muslims or non-Muslims (see
e.g. Elwell-Sutton, L. P. ‘Sufism & Pseudo-Sufism’, Encounter vol. 44 no. 5 and James Moore,
‘Neo-Sufism: The Case of Idries Shah’ Telos vol. 6 no. 4). It is also alleged that he wrote many of the books
eulogising him, using pseudonyms.
2.
Muhammad Subuh, The Meaning of Subud (Subud Publications International)
3. cf
Jalal-ud-din Rumi, The Masnavi; Hakim Sanai, The Walled Garden of
Truth; Mahmud Shabistari, The
Secret Garden; Saadi, The
Rose Garden. Versions of all these are published by
Idries Shah’s company Octagon Books.
4. I
have not come across any mention in any written records concerning Bahauddin
Naqshband of a specific exercise of surrender corresponding to what exists in
Subud. In common with other Sufi teachers, however, he does speak of surrender
and self-emptying in terms of a constant and continuous practice, rather than a
Subud-type exercise which is specific and of limited duration. Regarding Abd
al-Qadir al-Jilani, I am indebted to Ruslan Moore of Al-Baz for drawing
attention to latihan-like activities taking place during al-Jilani’s meetings
as recorded in contemporary accounts. For example: ‘Then the Shaikh would say:
“Now the talking [qal] is over, and we are ready to receive the spiritual state [hal]!” The people present would immediately feel an
intense vibration, and they would experience the spiritual state and the
rapture of ecstasy [wajd].’ And, ‘Finally, Shaikh Abd al-Qadir said: “Let us have done with the
talk [qal], and let us now return to
the spiritual state [hal]: There is no god but Allah! [la
ilaha illa ’llah]. Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah! [Muhammadur rasulu ’llah].” All the people in
the audience were shaken with an intense vibration, and Shaikh Jamal ad-Din ibn
al-Jawzi was moved to rip his clothes to shreds.’ (From Necklaces of Gems, trans. Muhtar Holland,
Al-Baz). It appears from these accounts that the ‘spiritual state’ [hal] was dependent in some way on the presence of the
Shaikh, whereas the Subud latihan to which Shah compares it is not dependent on
the presence of anyone else except for the initial transmission.
5.
Most of Abd al-Qadir al-Jilani’s recorded lectures, faithful on-the-spot
transcriptions by his pupils, have been translated into English by Muhtar
Holland and published in the USA by Al-Baz. The most reliable account of the
deeds and sayings of Bahauddin Naqshband and other famous teachers in the line
of the Khwajagan Hanedani are contained in a book which has not to this
writer’s knowledge been translated into any European language, the Rashahat ain al-Hayat by Fakhr ad-din Ali Husain
al-Waiz Kashifi. Extracts from this book appear in J. G. Bennett’s The Masters of Wisdom (Turnstone, 1977).
6. In The Way of the Sufi, Idries Shah relates an
account of Abd-al Qadir al-Jilani advising his pupils to watch out for
accidental transmission of the ‘opening of potential’ to unprepared
individuals, taking the form of trembling, crying out, heavenly visions etc.
This, says al-Jilani, is highly dangerous and must be stamped out wherever it
occurs in a disorganised and spontaneous manner among uneducated villagers.
Followers of Shah will, in the absence of information such as that contained in
note 4 above, draw the conclusion from this that all such phenomena are to be
avoided, even when properly authorised.
7.
Muhammad Subuh, Autobiography (Subud Publications International)
8. H.
B. M. Dervish, Journeys with a Sufi Master (Octagon)
9.
‘All of this teaching, like that of the Naqshbandi, these matters that are
explained in such detail — man cannot know these things, man cannot explain
them. If they can be explained, then it is only God Who can explain them to
man. But the point is, when God explains them He does not do it in that way,
the way explained by the Sufi teachers... Do not mistake these teachings for
the reality; the reality is what is contained in the latihan.’ (From a talk by
Pak Subuh given in Hamburg in 1983. Translated from the Indonesian.)
10. A
prominent teacher of the method of G. I. Gurdjieff and one of the most
influential early advocates of Subud.
11.
Abdurrachman intended to receive the latihan contact from Pak Subuh, but died
on his way to Pak Subuh’s house. See Rohana Mitchell, The History of Subud (Al Baz)
12.
The report of the Fifth Thule expedition by the Danish explorer Knud Rasmusson,
published in 1927. The report gives the historical background to a well-known
Eskimo poem. Apparently an ordinary Eskimo woman named Uvavnuk had a
spontaneous experience almost exactly like that of Pak Subuh: a ball of
brilliant light came down out of the sky and entered her, suffusing her body
with light. She began to receive movements and song and was able to pass this
capacity on to the rest of her tribe, which then enjoyed a generation of
unusual happiness and good fortune. It would be rather surprising to learn that
there was a Sufi group in the Canadian Arctic Circle which had brought about
this event, as the baraka transmission theory requires. From the evidence it would seem rather
that such things happen spontaneously from time to time to individuals of a
certain type.
13. J.
G. Bennett, Journeys in Islamic Countries (Turnstone)
14.
See The Complete Recorded Talks of Muhammad Subuh, Subud Publications International.
15.
Matthew Sullivan, Living Religion in
Subud (Subud Publications International)
16.
Shah, The Way of the Sufi
17.
Quoted in Glimpses of Reality, ed.
Dirk Campbell, Pathway (Subud Publications International)
18.
Mawlana Jami, Nafahat al-Uns, quoted in J.G. Bennett, The Masters of
Wisdom (Turnstone)
19.
The term ‘inner teacher’ is not cognate with God, although Pak Subuh refers
both to God and the inner self as the ‘teacher within’. A more complete
formulation would be ‘the guidance of God whose power is present and manifests
within the inner self when the influences of thought, feeling and desire are
set aside’.
20. I
learned from Kingsley Dennis, a member of Omar Ali-Shah’s London group, that
the governing body or ‘Foundation’ behind the worldwide Sufi network is known
as the Mu’assisa. Something of the function of this spiritual directorate is
revealed in the following true story. An emissary from the Mu’assisa was sent
to the Mevlevi dervishes in Konya in the middle of the twentieth century in
order to deliver a message. Simply, it stated that their performance, the Sema
or whirling, was no more than a tourist spectacle and that they were to stop.
Furthermore, that there was no spiritual content either in their activities, or
in the music or dance. The message quoted Rumi’s own words that the Sema ritual
was intended only for local people of that specific time and that the whirling
was not in fact for the benefit of the participating dervishes but actually was
limited to a specific, targeted audience. Since such conditions no longer
existed, what remained was merely an outer shell — a spectacle. The emissary,
in his report, stated that the response from the troupe of dervishes was anger!
The report continued to say that the old Chelebi Sheikh, who was the head of
the order, replied that ‘in a world where there is no light at all, even a
false gleam is perhaps something to have’, and that ‘I have been here so long,
and so have my ancestors, that we cannot change’. The old sheikh continued with
his refusal by further adding: ‘We may well be wanted, and believed to be the
possessors of secrets… we are here, after seven hundred years, not because of
our value or viciousness, but because people want us. They want magic… many can
follow a harmless path and feel better, elevated. That, in any case, is what
they imagine spirituality to be.’ (From the London
Newsletter of the Tradition, March 2003)
21.
Despite Pak Subuh’s theological language, he clearly states that belief in God
is not a prerequisite for spiritual experience. Nor is atheism a
disqualification for joining Subud. The Indonesian word latihan (which simply
means ‘exercise’) refers, in the Subud context, to a type of experience which
anyone can have, whatever they believe, and whether they happen to be Subud
members or not. What is required in any context, however, whether Subud, Sufi,
religious or otherwise, is sufficient relaxation of the familiar mental and
emotional apparatus for receiving to take place. This requirement is what Subud
is designed to provide.