#sufism

Despite her fame as one of Islam’s greatest Sufi saints, the life of Rābi‘a al ‘Adawiyya al-Qaysiyya al-Baṣriyya (A. H. 95–185/C. E. 712–801), as she came to be known, “remains mostly elusive.” A number of Islamic sources state that she was born in Basra, a city founded by Muslims in 16/637 and known for its many ascetics. A more recent study suggests her native city may have been Damascus. Many Islamic biographical dictionaries record 185/801 as the year of her death, while one source indicates the year 135/752. The latter date seems highly unlikely, since Rābi‘a would then have been too young to meet some of the luminaries she is reported to have talked to, and she also would have died too early to have had exchanges with other distinguished visitors whose names have been associated with hers.

On occasion, her first name is given as Rāyi‘a, although this is no great concern since it may be safely imputed to the accidental addition of a diacritical point. The greater biographical question concerns her full name and whether it indicates that Rābi‘a (or her father) became a client to an Arab tribe upon conversion to Islam. And there is also the matter of her having been married or a singing slave-girl before she converted to mysticism. Part of the confusion is due to the conflation of the biographies of several female saints by the same first name or with a similar story. 

Without any question, Rābi‘a left an indelible mark on Islamic mysticism like no other Sufi before her, man or woman. Many of the encounters she is reputed to have had with fellow ascetics (zāhidūn, plural of zāhid) and mystics (ṣūfiyyūn, plural of ṣūfiyy) such as Mālik ibn Dīnār (d. 123/648), Ḥasan al-Baṣrī (d.110/728), Sufyān al-Thawrī (d. 161/777–8), Ibrahīm ibn Adham (d. 165/782) ‘Abd al-Wāḥid al-Zayd (d. 177/793), and Rabāḥ al-Qaysī (d. 180/796) are obviously anecdotal, if only because a look at their respective dates clarifies that Rābi‘a could not possibly have been a contemporary to all of them.

And yet, it is conceivable that the exchanges said to have taken place with some of these very distinguished figures in Islamic tradition belonged to conversations conducted with interlocutors whose names were either lost or less prominent, in order to grant Rābi‘a a higher status. An exception is Ḥadīth-scholar Sufyān al-Thawrī, whose dates confirm him as a contemporary of the saint of Basra and whose name also appears in al-Sulamī’s Memorial. Moreover, as the following will show, the stories involving him strongly suggest that he shared an intimate spiritual bond with her.

Whoever Rābi‘a’s pious visitors were, they all bowed down before her extreme asceticism and the purity of her mystical experience. But this did not prevent them from sometimes provoking her and even testing the sincerity (ṣidq) of her religious sentiments. Agile of mind and never at loss for the right words, Rābi‘a always had the upper hand. One gets the impression that she welcomed the opportunity for verbal jousts. For instance, knowing her love of God, someone hoped to trick her by asking: “How is your love for the Prophet (may God bless and preserve him)?” She replied: “Verily, I love him. But love for the Creator has turned me away from love for created things”. Another visitor inquired about her take on Satan to which she answered: “My love for God leaves no room for hating Satan”.

On occasion, tradition recorded Rābia’s own questions to a number of individuals, making one wonder whether some of her interlocutors were not actually students of hers rather than frequent visitors. For instance, she asked them about “truthfulness” and “generosity,” clearly expecting them to give lacking answers that she would have to—and did—straighten out. Her style is reminiscent of the “What is”-question used among the “acusmatici” in the Pythagorean school. This is not to suggest that Rābi‘a was following the teaching model of this ancient Greek school, only that the parallel questioning style supports the assumption that Rābi‘a was teaching and not just receiving guests.

Some reactions to statements made in her presence, show how annoyed she could be at what she perceived to be pseudo-pious utterances. Sāliḥ al-Murrī(d. 176/792–93), who enjoyed reiterating, “When someone keeps knocking at the door, it will in time open for him,” was admonished by Rābi‘a: “How long will you keep saying that? When was the door ever closed, that it might have to open?” .This sharp riposte clearly suggests that she was in a position of authority when al-Murrī repeated his remark.

If incensed deliberately, Rābi‘a could be punishingly cruel. Thus when Ḥasan al-Baṣrī is said to have invited her to pray with him on the bare surface of a lake, Rābi‘a scolded him for being boastful. She then threw her prayer rug in the air and asked him to join her above the ground, which shamed him endlessly, since he was unable to comply. Naturally, neither of the two saints could have achieved the physical exploits they are credited with (apart from the fact that they couldn’t even have met at a stage in their lives when they were both spiritually mature), but the story nevertheless conveys how strongly Rābi‘a felt the need to correct her fellows, including well-established ones like al-Baṣrī, when she found them lacking in humility.

If nothing else, this “ḥikāya” tells us about how she was perceived. While the details of the sayings and deeds attributed to Rābi‘a may never be validated, nor falsified for that matter, what does come across is that Islam’s mystical tradition considers her a paragon in terms of her austerity, piety, and mystical teaching. Moreover, one senses the respect she was granted is not the expression of mere veneration for a person more advanced on the religious path. Rather, it is coupled with deference to an authoritative figure whose character and teaching were deemed exemplary."