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Osmanlı’da İlm-i Tasavvuf
III.
Zooming out of the texts
As we have detailed above, the poem focuses squarely on the actors involved
in the punitive expedition against the ‘Azāle — making sure that a whole range
of Ottoman officials got their “five minutes of fame” — and hardly addresses
the issue of this punishment’s legality. The prose text, on the other hand, fo-
cuses on the legal rationale behind it and wastes but few words on the actual
execution of the punishment. Having thus familiarized ourselves sufficiently
with the texts, let us now zoom out.
What do we find? First, it is clear that Muḥyī felt equally at home in the Firdaw-
sian universe of leopards and panthers, as he did in the terse Arabicizing le-
galistic tefsīr vocabulary. Whereas the mesnevī depicts the hizebr, şīr, neheng,
peleng, and gürg, and stars Ferīdūn, Cem, İskender and those other immortal
heroes of the Persian pantheon, the risāle harks back to the Benī Kināne, imam
‘Alī and His Excellency Ḥamze. Obviously, there is nothing new in finding peo-
ple operating across discursive borders. Nonetheless, it remains worthwhile to
stress that this observation holds true for Muḥyī as well.
Next, as said before, in the mesnevī, Muḥyī made sure that a long list of Otto-
man officials got their “five minutes of fame”, highlighting, for example, the
exploits of a Dāvud Aġa, who is otherwise left completely unidentified. As
these references make little if no sense to outsiders, it is clear that the poem
was geared towards a local audience of Ottoman-speaking officials in Egypt
first and foremost. As for the risāle, there can be no doubt regarding its dedi-
catee and target of patronage: Aḥmed Paşa, whose tecrīde Muḥyī legitimized.
As such, both ‘Azāle-Nāmes suggest an intimate relation between Muḥyī and
state officials, a relation that he sought to activate, maintain and strengthen.
Again, to find proof of Muḥyī’s mundane interests in Cairo, of his active pursu-
ance of patronage, and — more broadly — of Gülşenīye-Ottoman rapproche-
ment can hardly be considered a novelty. Still, it is worthwhile to remind the
reader of the fact that, also when it comes to patronage as the main modus
operandi of social actors, Muḥyī was very much a “man of his age”.
Third, when thinking of Muḥyī as a Sufi writer first and foremost, we can ap-
preciate his risāle as an example of the rapprochement of Sufism and Sunni
Islam, thus bearing witness to the process of Sunnitization — that “close inter-
play between imperial politics and confession building”
36
, as Derin Terzioǧ-
36 See Terzioǧlu, “Sunna-Minded Sufi Preachers in Service of the Ottoman State: The Naṣīḥat-
nāme of Hasan Addressed to Murād IV”; Terzioǧlu, “How to Conceptualize Ottoman Sunniti-
zation: A Historiographical Discussion”.
723
Osmanlı’da İlm-i Tasavvuf
lu put it so aptly — and, more specifically, to process of the institutionaliza-
tion of the Ḫalvetīye
37
. Already before, Terzioǧlu rightfully warned against a
conceptualization of Sunnitization as a top-down process first and foremost,
emphasising “that Sufis were not only at the receiving end of Ottoman con-
fessionalization politics”. Hence, identifying Muḥyī as one such “agent of Sun-
nitization”
38
should hardly come as a surprise. But then again, when it comes
to the prose ‘
Azāle-Nāme, it remains useful to highlight this particular lens.
Here — in a concise yet indisputable way — we find a “Sunnitizing Sufi agent”
at work.
Summarizing, this “distant reading” has allowed us to recognize multiple di-
mensions of this author’s identity — both edīb and deputy judge, both seeking
God and seeking patronage, both Sufi and Sunni — and to appreciate the way
in which these — for us moderns sometimes seemingly contradictory — di-
mensions combine into one kaleidoscopic personality. Admittedly, neither the
dimensions themselves nor their specific constellation are new in any partic-
ular way, for indeed research into these is booming more than ever. Still, it is
quite refreshing to see how these varied dimensions can coalesce into works
as small and “trifling” as the two ‘Azāle-Nāmes, and allow us to appreciate just
how much Muḥyī was a “man of his age”.
One final dimension remains to be explored in some greater detail, and this
relates to Muḥyī’s tefsīr, one that is legalistically oriented rather than of the
mystical bend. As he did not produce a full tefsīr himself
39
, what tefsīr did
he follow? As to be expected, the usual suspects — such al-Zamakhsharī’s
Kashshāf, al-Qurṭubī’s
Jāmi‘ and al-Suyūṭī’s
al-Durr al-Manthūr, all enumerated
in the imperial medrese curriculum analyzed by Ahmed and Filipovic
40
—
show a lot of common ground. Yet, no perfect match turned up, that is, until I
decided to follow up on a clue in Muḥyī’s Menāḳib:
“Whenever I was in the service of Ebū’s-Su‘ūd Ḫoca Çelebi, he used to ex-
plain so much, be it in the field of tefsīr, te’vīl or ‘ilm-i ṣūfīye, that by (doing
nothing but) writing all this down in detail, my life would have been ful-
filled!
37 Terzioǧlu, “Sufis in the Age of State-Building and Confessionalization”, pp. 86-99.
38 Terzioǧlu, “Sufis in the Age of State-Building and Confessionalization”, p. 96; Terzioǧlu, “Sun-
na-Minded Sufi Preachers in Service of the Ottoman State”, p. 251. For other “Sunnitizing”
Ḫalvetīs, see Clayer, Mystiques, État et Société.
39 He did in fact produce partial tefsīrs (see Muḥyī, Menāḳıb, p. xiii: “Tefsīr-i Sūratu’l-Ḳadr”).
40 Ahmed - Filipovic, “The Sultan’s Syllabus”, pp.183-218.
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Osmanlı’da İlm-i Tasavvuf
(Eǧer tefsīr eǧer te’vīl eǧer ‘ilm-i ṣūfīyeden ol ḳadar nevādir beyān ėderler-
di ki eǧer anları ‘ömrimde tafṣīl ėdüb taḥrīr ėdedim, kifāyet ėderdi).
41
Clearly, during his Istanbul days, Muḥyī and grand mufti Ebū’s-Su‘ūd had met
and had actually discussed the exegesis of, among others, Quran VIII: 9-10.
42
If we now turn our attention to Ebū’s-Su‘ūd Efendī’s famous
tefsīr, the
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