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| Safi Ali Shahi khanaka in Tehran |
The tomb of Safi Ali Shah is in
the centre of Tehran. It is a mausoleum covered with a silvery dome
but there are no crowds of pilgrims here like in Mashhad or Rey. Even
Sunday afternoons are quiet here and that is when I went there. I
entered the courtyard and was immediately greeted by bearded men. My
limited knowledge of Farsi was laid bare after a few sentences so an
English-speaking interlocutor was found for me. He could tell me
something about this place.
“Is
it a Nematullahi Khanaqa? Could I be present at a zekr even though I am not
a dervish?”
Yes, it is a khanaqa of the
Nematullahi order of dervishes. Safi Ali Shah was one of the greatest
shaikhs of this order. Could I be present at the zekr? Darvish
Muhammad has to decide, he is pir-e-khanaqa, he will lead the zekr.
Soon after a man with a dense but rather short beard appeared. He
kept telling jokes which I didn't understand but at which everybody
else laughed. This was Darvish Muhammad; one glance of his
mischievous eyes was enough for me to know I'd be accepted..
“Can
I take a picture of the mausoleum?”
“Outside
yes but inside it is not officially allowed,” my English-speaking
interlocutor says. “The dervishes wouldn't have any problems but
the authorities do. There is no real reason, I guess they just want
to feel important. They gave us an official supervisor, that's the
man who stands there in the corner. He was very much against us to
start with but we tamed him and he became a dervish. Well, he thinks
he is a dervish, but it is better this way. He sometimes even chairs
the meetings. So for now we have a kind of peace here but really the
government of the Islamic Republic persecutes the dervishes. Most
meet in secrecy. One Nematullahi shaikh lives in London because in
Iran he has a death sentence.”
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| Darvish Muhammad (left) and others |
Who are these dervishes, then?
Why should the government of the Islamic Republic have anything
against them?
One myth has to be dispersed to
start with – dervishes do not have to whirl. They don't have to don
funny outfits either. The zekr of the Nematullahi dervishes in Tehran
started with recitation of poetry and ended with recitation of Divine
Names in total darkness. All those gathered there sat on the floo
rall the time .
Sufi or dervishes (usually the
words are used as synonyms although sometimes the word 'sufi' is used
for enlightened masters, whereas 'dervishes' are still learning) are
Muslim mystics organised into orders since the Middle ages. For them
the outward behaviour and exotic clothing are not important. What is
important is the inner change of a person, the change that makes
possible to experience God's presence. In the sufi parlance – no
egoist can hear the voice of God but the superficial ego (called
'nasf' by the sufis) does not need to dominate, it can be taken under
control. Only those who tamed their own egos can hear the whisper of
God within their hearts. The outward behaviour is important only as
far as it influences the mind, it may lead to a state of mind in
which hearing the whisper of God is possible. The outward behaviour
of dervish orders is not prescribed forever, it changes depending on
the society in which the order exists. The Nematullahi used to be a
begging order but these days they are all employed, sometimes as
highly skilled professionals. They used to wear a special habit
called 'kherqa', nowadays they dress as everybody else and only don
the habit on special occasions. The Nematullahi dervishes in London
meet in a room where men and women sit together completely mixed,
women also wear western clothes and don't cover their heads. In Iran
this is not possible, at the tomb of Safi Ali Ahah there is a
separate entrance for women and during the zekr they sit in a
separate room.
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| The tomb of Shah Nematullah |
Having heard that I plan to
travel to Central Iran, Darvish Muhammad suggested that I visit
Mahan, a little town where the tomb of Shah Nematullah Wali is
located. Shah Nematullah was the founder of the Nematullahi order of
dervishes. Of course his tomb is not just any old gravestone at a
village cemetery, we are in Iran after all, the tomb of Shah
Nematullah is a magnificent mausoleum, beautiful architecture. I had
considered the possibility of going there anyway but after Darvish
Muhammad's suggestion I decided to go there for sure.
A railway station, then. A
railway station in Iran is an experience in itself. It demonstrates
the contrast between ordinary Iranians who are usually friendly and
helpful and the extremely inefficient institutions of the Islamic
Republic. There is only one train a day between Kerman (a town the
size of Leeds) and Tehran (the capital, bigger than London). Of
course the number of people who want to travel far exceeds the number
of seats available so the ticket offices are in a state of incessant
siege. Police officers block the entry with a park bench to reduce
the crowds inside. A tourist (like myself) is rudely turned away but
the ordinary people in the crowd point out that the 'khareji'
(foreigners) don't have to queue if they show passports, at which
point the policemen move the bench ever so slightly so the khareji can squeeze in,
the crowd inside lets him go through and he gets his ticket just like
that (this is not the miracle alluded to in the title). The khareji
has to show his passport to get his ticket, he has to show it at the
entry to the platform as well even though he isn't going abroad. This
is normal in Iran, the police checks documents of people travelling
between cities. The country is in the state of constant martial law.
What is the government of the Islamic |Republic afraid of? Maybe the
dervishes? Or maybe the ordinary friendly and helpful people?
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| Shah Nematullah Wali |
This is not all. Once all the
passengers were on their seats the train was checked by morality
guards. In Iran opposite sexes are not permitted to sit in the same
compartments unless they are members of the same family. So although
I paid for my seat (it was obligatory) I was not permitted to sit on
it because there were some ladies in my compartment. I was ordered to
vacate my seat and was led to a compartment occupied only by men.
In the end I arrived in Kerman,
from there I took a taxi to Mahan and got off in front of the shrine
of Shah Nematullah. Tourist guides warn that the entry to the Shia
shrines is only allowed for Muslims so I entered with some
apprehension but it soon turned out that I didn't need to worry at
all. I walked in, passed all the courtyards, entered the inner
sanctuary and even touched the sarcophagus of the bearded saint
without anybody raising the eyebrow. I knew he was bearded because
his picture was hanging there. It was only later that I noticed
something that hadn't at first seemed unusual to me – sex
segregation so ubiquitous in Iran did not apply there. Mixed groups
of men and women came to touch the sarcophagus and prayed together
bowing towards Mecca. In mixed groups! In Iran!
The
atmosphere was also somewhat different than in the shrines of the
Shia saints such as in Rey near Tehran. Fewer people, less noise,
wall decoration not so gaudy, 15th
century architecture well preserved. Groups of people talk quietly
here and there but the aura is that of silent prayer. Carpets on
all the floors, one can sit and soak up the atmosphere.
I was sitting and soaking up the
atmosphere when a girl approached and asked whether I would like to
join them – a group of young people sitting in a mixed group and
talking quietly. I did join them and thus I learned why some people
come to visit the tomb of Shah Nematullah. Not all of them are
dervishes.
Asma
– the girl that approached me – and her husband Nima, also
present, told me their story. They said they were in love for years
but their parents wouldn't let them get married. Asma's
father was the most difficult to persuade, he was a traditionalist
and always had objections. Asma and Nima weren't freethinkers
themselves, not at all, they were very religious and every week they
came to Mahan to ask Shah Nematullah for intercession. And it worked!
After six years the parents relented and the wedding was just two
months ago. Now they come to Mahan every week to say thank you.
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| In the garden of Shah Nematullah mausoleum |
You will find this story, and many others, in my book "ASK A GLOBETROTTER".
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