Mystics and Saints of Islam — A Closer Reading

The Koranic Foundation of Sufism

Field's preface insists that 'the roots of mysticism are to be found in the Koran itself.' He quotes the Light Verse at length—'God is the Light of the heavens and the earth. His light is like a niche in which is a lamp'—to ground Sufi symbolism in scripture. He then cites the Koran's promise 'Verily, you shall see hell, you shall see it with the eye of certainty' to explain the early Muslims' terror of judgment. This fear, he argues, 'led naturally to an almost fierce asceticism.' The Companions Abu Bekr and Ali both founded ascetic communities, and Field uses their reported sayings—Ali's lament about 'the terrors of the way' and Abu'l Darda's wish to be a tree—to show that Sufi otherworldliness was present from the start. He aligns himself with Professor Nicholson's view that 'the early Sufis are still on orthodox ground,' comparing them to medieval Spanish mystics within the Catholic Church.

Ghazzali's Turn from Philosophy to Religion

Field's chapter on Al Ghazzali emphasizes his shift from academic fame to spiritual teaching. After ten years away, Ghazzali returned to Nishapur 'to help to bring about a religious revival,' but his aim had changed: 'Formerly, he says, he taught a knowledge which won him fame and glory, but now he taught a knowledge which brought just the opposite.' Field compares him to 'a Muhammadan Thomas á Kempis.' He notes Ghazzali's enormous output—ninety-nine works—and his influence on Jewish thinkers, who studied his 'Makasid-al-Falasifah' for its exposition of Aristotle. Yet Field stresses that Ghazzali 'would probably have repudiated the title' of philosopher: 'His true element was not philosophy but religion, with which his whole being was penetrated.' The chapter also addresses accusations of hypocrisy, noting that Ghazzali's Sufi leanings might 'lend some colour' to claims he had an esoteric doctrine for initiates and an exoteric one for the public.

The Ascetic Voice of the Early Sufis

Field's sketches of early figures like Hasan Basri, Rabia, and Ibrahim ben Adham foreground their renunciatory speech. Hasan Basri's reported sayings dwell on the terror of judgment; Rabia, the woman Sufi, is known for her radical love of God that eclipses fear of hell or hope of paradise. Ibrahim ben Adham, a prince who abandoned his throne, exemplifies the pattern of worldly renunciation. Field draws on Alfred Von Kremer's scholarship for these portraits, and the language is consistently concrete: the Sufis 'cloak their teaching under a metaphorical veil, wine representing the love of God, etc., as in Hafiz and Omar Khayyam.' The excerpts do not provide full biographies, but they show Field selecting anecdotes that highlight the Sufis' intense, personal relationship with the divine—a relationship often expressed in paradox and self-abasement.

Continental Scholarship as Source

Field is transparent about his method: 'The following sketches are for the most part translations of papers by continental scholars such as Alfred Von Kremer, Pavet de Courteille, and A.F. Mehren.' He does not claim original research but rather acts as a compiler and translator, making German and French scholarship available to English readers. This gives the book a distinctive texture: the prose is sometimes stiff, as in the Ghazzali chapter's discussion of causation ('He denies causation as thoroughly as Hume'), but it also carries the authority of academic sources. Field's own voice emerges most clearly in the preface, where he argues for the indigenous roots of Sufism. The appendixes—on Mohammedan conversions, an exposition of Sufism, Christian elements in Mohammedan literature, and Christ in Mohammedan tradition—suggest a comparative religious interest that frames the individual sketches within a broader theological conversation.

Field's collection does not attempt a unified theory of Sufism; it offers a gallery of individual portraits, each drawn from a different scholarly source. Readers should approach the chapters as independent essays rather than a continuous narrative. The appendixes, particularly the one on Christian elements, hint at Field's own interest in cross-religious parallels, but the sketches themselves remain focused on the words and deeds of the mystics. For those new to Islamic mysticism, this book provides a useful entry point, though its reliance on early twentieth-century scholarship means some claims—such as the denial of foreign influence—have been revised by later research.

That rainy afternoon, Claud Field’s Mystics and Saints kept me company, its old pages smelling of dust and patience. I lingered over Rumi’s quiet wrestling with God’s distance, and somehow that tension led me to a broader, stranger question about Islam’s future. Later, almost by accident, I picked up The Future of Islam — Text and Context, and the two books seemed to speak to each other across the years.