Why do the dervishes whirl ?

Rumi's mausoleum in Konya

The most important thing for dervishes is presence.

For us, brought up in Western culture, it is hard to understand. What do you mean – presence? Surely the most important thing is doctrine, isn't it? Dervishes gather to listen to their master because they want to learn what the master has to day. This is obvious, isn't it?

Well, it isn't.

In the 13^th century in the town of Konya in central Turkey one of the most famous sufi masters in history held his lectures. He was known as Maulana Rumi. Some of the dervishes who came to listen to him noted down his lectures and they survived centuries in manuscripts. Rumi was not economical with words, he was one of the most prolific poets of all time and of any language. Big fat volumes of his poetry are nowadays translated into many languages. He is now the most popular poet in America and as a result there are funds for scholars who want to research his writings. The lectures in manuscript have been discovered and several times translated into English. I read one of those translations and in the beginning of Chapter 2 I found this::

“Someone says: "Our Master does not utter a word." Rumi answers: Well, it was the idea of me that brought you to my presence. This thought of me did not speak with you saying, "How are things with you?" The inner image without words drew you here. If the reality of me draws you without you to another place, what is so wonderful with words? Words are the shadow of reality, a mere branch of reality. Since the shadow draws, how much more the reality! Words are a pretext”

This would suggest that the lectures to which the dervishes come are just a pretext for them to be in their masters presence. The title which the dervishes use for their master – hadhrat, which means 'presence' – would confirm that suggestion. The very presence of the master causes blessings to flow upon the dervishes. However, the sufi whose presence causes the blessings to come down does not have to be famous. He could be an anonymous dervish in the crowd, a cobbler or a basket maker. Rumi would say that the fame is only a pretext. Fame is superficial and really comes by chance. Rumi himself is a proof that fame is a matter of chance.

Wax figures of dervishes in a museum

Before the 20^th century he was only famous in two countries – in Persia and in Turkey. In Persia, because his big fat volumes are written in Persian, he is one of the greatest poets of that language, the Persian equivalent of Chaucer. In Iran today he is known as Maulana Jalaluddin Balkhi because he was born in the city of Balkh, in modern Afghanistan. His books used to be copied in beautiful calligraphy, single poems written in a special calligraphy created for this purpose were hung on walls like pictures, music was created to them and they were sung with accompaniment of orchestras. It is so even now – mediaeval Persian poetry often provides lyrics for classical music of Iran.

In Turkey he is famous for different reasons. His poetry was written in a language foreign there but he is also considered a founder of the order of the Whirling Dervishes. This is probably the most popular dervish order in Turkey, which would mean that for Turks he is an equivalent of somebody like St. Benedict rather than Chaucer. Strictly speaking Rumi was not the actual founder, it was his closest disciples who who organised the order formally, but Rumi was their inspiration and it was he who started the practice of whirling. They say that when he was whirling in the lecture hall his Muse came to him and cried out his poems, which were immediately penned down by his disciples. For us a situation where a lecturer whirls during a lecture seems a bit odd but iw didn't seem odd to his disciples; they decided it was a practice worth preserving and carry on this practice even today. The order is called Mevleviya from the title of the master, who in modern Turkish is called Mevlana Celaledin Rumi. In the Ottoman empire this order was quite influential, they say that even some sultans were among the dervishes. In Persia other orders were influential, these orders did not practice whirling, although they did meditate upon the texts of the masters.

They say that even some sultans were among the dervishes. The last of the sultans is supposed to have earned his living by making baskets, which one of his servants sold at the bazaar. This sounds incredible to our Western ears, doesn't it? They say thet the last sultan ate only those products which the servant bought having sold the baskets. The Turkish revolutionaries of that era claimed that he didn't manage the affairs of state properly, so they abolished the monarchy and created the republic. They decided that the country should appear European and as a part of this plan all dervish monasteries were closed. What does anyone need this funny whirling for? In Europe they don't do things like this.

Tekke in Galata in Istambus

What do you mean – who needs it? What about the American tourists, who may want to come here and leave a buck or two? Wouldn't the exotic spectacle attract them even more?

Well, if some American enthusiasts want to come to Konya and look for signs of Rumi, they can go to the museum. They can buy a ticket and see the tomb of the great poet. They can see the tekke, or the place where the dervishes used to whirl. They can see the monastery where wax figures of dervishes are exhibited and everything is described in detail. The figures of dervishes wear tall hats, those of the shaikhs wear also green turbans around those hats. Everything is explained – how a novice had to sit for three days in the kitchen and watch the life of the monastery, how he had to go through a very hard novitiate, how he learned to whirl and play the flute, and so on. In the museum shop the tourist can buy a tee shirt with a picture of a dervish or a CD with flute music.

Interestingly, most of those who come to the museum, buy tickets and enter the sanctuary with the tomb of Maulana are not American tourists but Turks from the countryside, old ladies covered from top to bottom as the Prophet prescribed, old men with white moustaches, they don't come here to ogle but to pray. They come here because this is the tomb of Maulana, he is PRESENT in this place. What is important for the dervishes is the presence. Is he dead? For the dervishes death is just one of events in a biography. Not the most important of those events.

Nevertheless the Western tourists like to see exotic spectacles like the whirling of he dervishes. Monasteries have been closed but dervishes practised in secret. They must have been doing so because when the authorities allowed for the whirling session to be performed for the tourists – there where dervishes who could do it. It is a strange situation because for the dervishes the show is just a pretext, what is important is the presence. The very presence of dervishes causes the blessings to come down on those gathered even though they came to see a show. What's more – the dervish whose presence causes the blessings to come down does not need to be known to everybody. He may be an anonymous dervish in a crowd, a cobbler or a basket maker.

A wax figure of a whirling dervish

Here is one more quotation from the book of Rumi's discourses:

A worthy man once shut himself up for a forty days discipline, seeking after a particular object. A voice came to him, saying: 'Such a lofty object will never be attained by a forty days discipline. Abandon your discipline so that the regard of a great saint may fall upon you and your object will be realised.'

'Where shall I find the great one?' the man asked.

'In the congregational mosque' came the answer.

'In such a throng of people how shall I recognise which man he is?' he enquired.

“Go' he was told, 'and he will recognise you and gaze upon you. The sign that his regard has fallen upon you will be that the pitcher will drop from your hand and you will become unconscious. Then you will know that he has gazed upon you.'

He acted accordingly. He filled the pitcher with water and went round the congregation in the mosque like a water-carrier. He was wandering between the ranks of the worshippers when he suddenly was seized with ecstasy. He uttered a loud cry and the pitcher fell from his hand. He remained in a corner of the mosque unconscious. All the people departed. When he came to his senses he saw that he was alone. He did not see there that spiritual king who had gazed upon him but he had gained his object.

You can get my book of translation from Rumi: