Monday, May 15, 2017

Al-Baqarah


1: I'm only on the first verse of this book, it is only three letters long: الم, and I have spent nearly thirty minutes pondering it.  Suffice it to say that the Al-Muqattaat have captured my attention and imagination, and I am eager to see what they reveal.  They beckon me in the same way that the void does, with the promise to reveal.

2: I refuse to get my hopes up that that this book will actually offer a sunnatullah, an explanation of the actual mechanics of things.  But I am not above imagining if it did.

3: The insistence on unrequited spending of one's essence already sets this book at odds with the majority of The Bible, which makes worship far more transactional.  Who is the We, here, however, and why are they capitalized?

4: I believe in nothing else than what has been revealed to me from my essence.

5: To make an attempt at applying this verse seems premature in this reading, but it could not be more in line with my own current thoughts about the definition of success.  To perceive and love the individual expression of a universal truth that one has come to name "I" (Rabb), and to extrapolate that perception and love into all reality (HUDA).

7: Here is a familiar thought, however.  This might as well have come directly from 1 Corinthians 3.  And I take the same exception with it as I do with that verse: if it is Allah who has veiled their insight, in what way is their suffering of their own desert?

8: A second mention of the divinity of the letter B, one that causes me to doubt the objectivity--though not the usefulness--of the Sufi translation I have received.  This addition seems to be a liberty, and one with no perceptible corrolary in other translations or in the original Arabic.

10: Another verse with a strong corollary in Thessalonians 2:10.  It is out of line with what seems to be the Sufi interpretation of the Divine to say that it punishes one by amplifying imperfection.  Especially insofar as the sin in question is one of inability, not error.

11: This is a rather loaded verse.  I shudder to think how many harmful and mutually contradictory stances it could be used to justify.

12-15 This is an interesting way to begin a sacred text.  The Bible reserves these admonitions for Paul to deliver after corruption has reared its head, not as an introduction before the religion has even begun to exist.

16: I love this verse.  There are those who we rather be right than happy, and those who would rather have comfort than truth.  I hope that I am on the right, or at least the profitable, side of each of these equations.

17: Another beautiful and edifying observation.  There are those who can only see what is outside them, which is the same as seeing nothing at all.

20: I am becoming simultaneously more and less skeptical of this translation.  The substitution of "His Names Sami and Basir" for "hearing and sight" seems at once to be a liberty of interpretation, and a faithful nod to the layers of the language.

22: Whereas the liberties taken here are rather more without linguistic justification.  To add that setting up rivals to Allah is to fall into shirq is not at all present in the original text.  It is becoming necessary to reference two other versions of this book while reading Hulusi's "translation" because he is so unreliable in marking his additions.

23: But this extra effort is more than made up for by the attention he gives to perils of translation, such as his lengthy treatment here of دُون

25: Again, one of Hulusi's seeming liberties relates to the addition of Shirq.  There is no justification for the addition here, and it is a bald insertion of the assumption that purification is freedom from duality (a supportable liberty) and the corresponding transfer of that modifier from its original referent (أَزواجٌ) to another (وَهُم), which is entirely unsupportable.  And again, this seeming linguistic carelessness is balanced by a stimulating explication of the shades of meaning arising from the former.  If I were blessed with أَزواجٌ, it wouldn't matter to me in what sense of the word it came to me.

26: Certainly a parallel with 1 Cor 2:14, and compatible also with various Buddhist approaches.  The most fascinating implication, though, is Husuli's non-translation of رَبِّهِم, which in the other texts I'm referencing is "lord"but here appears simply as "Rabb".  According to his glossary, it is not simply the object of one's worship, but one's divinity in a precise sense: the unique way in which the divine is expressed in oneself. It's maddening to be at once furious with Hulusi for his seeming arrogance, and fascinated by what he reveals.  I would be unable to forgive this linguistic heresy if it were not so fascinating.

27: Here, Hulusi's interpretation requires no linguistic acrobatics to be justified, and one begins to see where he got it, though I still look at him askance for inserting it elsewhere.  The central conceit is that Allah is not a "He" or even an "It", but rather the state of perfect indivisibility. The "shirq" (I wish I knew how to write this in Arabic) that he keeps inserting elsewhere into the text is the corruption of duality, an idea which finds a very natural home in this verse.

28: This verse is ripe with layers of meaning, coming from the possible meanings of تَكفُرونَ. One translation renders it "disbelieve", another "be unfaithful".  Hulusi, in what is becoming a familiar fashion, goes further and injects "deny that that names of Allah comprise your essence".  Insofar as for him, the self is an expression of Allah, this makes perfect sense.  For this reader, admittedly susceptible to such an approach, it still doesn't justify the alterations made to the text.  I'm still fascinated by the puzzle of Hulusi's parenthetical (why are some of his additions parenthetical, and others treated as though there are in the original text?) fixation on the letter B.

29: And the subtleties of هُوَwould most definitely be overlooked if I had been relying on one of these other translations, without Hulusi's announcement that this is one of the Names of which he speaks.  Indeed, without his commentary, inexcusably invasive though it is, the Quran would indeed sound much like a generic religious text to me.  No wonder that all Muslims insist it can't be read in English.  Perhaps I can begin to ease up on him a bit.

30: Here's another place where other translations ("viceroy" and "successive authority") would have been meaningless without Hulusi's linguistically unjustifiable insertion of "conscious beings who will live with the awareness of the names".

31: There's a shift here that seems to mark a transition from invective to narrative.  If the preceding can be called an introduction, it's a very different one than is found in many other religious texts, and feels more well thought out.  A potentially revealing detail is that the Names which Adam is taught (and of which he is composed, according to Hulusi) get a feminine pronoun, while the referents of those names get a masculine pronoun.

32: It will be interesting to see if this is the final word in the opposition between men and angels, or if it's setting up a lengthier conflict.  At any rate, the angels in the Quran are much more flavorful than those in the Bible or Torah.  I like Hulusi's choice to leave  العَليمُ الحَكيمُ untranslated. The other translations I'm referencing render them "knowing" and "wise", which feels flat by comparison.

33: And Adam being invested with both the knowledge of the Names and entrusted with their transmission is another huge departure from the Biblical Adam, who is rather a schlub.

34: Here's the beginning of the conflict.  So much to unpack in this verse.  Iblis' sin is similar to that of Satan in that it comes from his arrogance, but there are two telling distinctions. Satan is framed as rebelling against God; Iblis is (so far at least) rebelling more against man.  Further, framing of egoism as the source of the conflict carries more meaning here, insofar that the first 30 verses have taken care to set up Allah as a manifestation of unity, and to caution against belief in separateness, division, and individuality.  Against this background, Iblis' problem is not that he wanted to be greater than others, as Satan did; Iblis problem is that he believes that such a thing--hierarchy, comparison, and separateness from the all--is even possible.

35: So much here as well.  The We is an important pronoun choice, as opposed to the I of the Bible, and more in keeping with the theme of multiplicity, infinity, and unity.  The sudden appearance of Adam's spouse, who seems to be given neither an origin, a name, nor a gender, lends itself to Hulusi's interpretation that it is not some "other" that he is to dwell with in peace; it is his life and condition.

36: The "all of you" here is frustrating in its seeming lack of referent.  Does it refer to Adam and his "other"? or is Satan included in the going down?  One tempting interpretation is that the one with whom Adam shares his condition and life in 35 is an aspect of himself, and the going down here is separation from that self.  By a similar token, what is the relationship between Satan and the Iblis of 34?  Is Allah not the only one with multiple names here?

37: Quite a turnaround from the Genesis account.  Adam is forgiven for his transgression, but not freed from its consequence: a separation from the paradisaical condition of unity.

38: I'm getting used to Hulusi's habit of leaving words with subtlety that would be damaged in translation untranslated.  This treatment of  هُدًى here prompts a little digging.  The word in question is translated as "guidance" in the other two translations I'm referencing, but it seems to also carry the sense of "gift" according to the dictionary.  Hulusi, of course, takes it to mean the comprehension of one's own reality, which would cover both meanings.

39: This is a verse where the three translations (Hulusi's and two other more conventional ones) diverge on a key point: the meaning of أَصحابُ.  Hulusi renders it "abide", and the other, unattributed translations choose "inmate" and "companion", a wide semantic gap.  From a strictly dictionary definition, a better translation might be "owners", which widens the gap even further.  I begin to forgive Hulusi for his liberties, insofar as its clear that all translation of the Quran must necessarily be an interpretation.  At least Hulusi is more or less transparent about it.

40: Wait, what?  Children of Israel? This is highly unexpected.  I had heard that Abraham et al were revered by Islam, but the writing of this book clearly took place in, and was intended for, nobody living in what we today call Israel.  I wonder if Muslim people consider themselves Children of Israel even today?  This is a point on which I expect far more to be revealed as I progress.

41: Another verse in which Hulusi's explanations are helpful but not to be taken too seriously.  His treatment of "what I have revealed" as the Quran, and "that which is with you" as the Torah makes perfect sense, but by no means the only possible interpretation.  And his translation  of وَإِيّايَ فَاتَّقونِ  as "protect yourself from me" is far more ominous than the "fear me" and "be wary of me" in other translations.

42: This verse is one of which the translations are far more consistent, and a very nice general rebuke of cognitive dissonance.

43: I am again appreciative of the choice here to leave الصَّلاةَ untranslated, for it seems to carry more meaning than just "prayer".  It's tempting to view this as the Islamic equivalent of Acts 15:28,29--namely, a simplification of what is required for believers.  By a similar token, "To bow with those who bow" asks to be taken as a parallel to Hebrews 10:25, although naturally Hulusi's explanation is far more metaphysical.

44: Perhaps I'm in a certain frame of mind as I read these verses, because I am again beset by the parallel to Acts 17:11.  It's interesting that the voice here keeps summoning Paul, rather than any Hebrew prophet.  At any rate, here is another marvelous and highly applicable verse.

45: I'm pleased with my decision to read this translation alongside two others, insofar as the interposition of "this is difficult for the ego" is entirely Hulusi's invention, but not clearly indicated as such.

46: Although the Sufi idea that Allah is a manifestation of one's Rabb is certainly a welcome one here, and no doubt casts the entire book in a light that I can appreciate, it's becoming exceendingly clear that it is not a mainstream Muslim idea.  I wonder if the Bible could benefit from a similar reading.  I certainly cannot overstate how appealing the idea of knowing my Rabb is.

47: Again, the Children of Israel are addressed, although their blessing is knowledge in the Sufi approach, not prosperity.

48: The idea that the day of judgement is the day of death, rather than the advent of a divine war, is certainly appealing in its obviousness and simplicity.

49: Whereas both of the other translations I'm referencing render رَبِّكُم as "Lord", here it is left as "Rabb", which in the Sufi perspective is not an external force, but the unique way in which the Names are manifested in you as an individual.  This approach opens up and degausses a whole range of interpretations, both of the Quran and of the Bible.

50: And it is in this verse that Hulusi's Sufi approach gains a little credence.  The most straightforward translation renders بِكُمُ as "for you", which is in line with the Pentateuch's narrative.  But Hulusi gives the much more wordy and metaphysical "by manifesting the forces of Allah's names in your essence" for the same word.  The answer to this dichotomy is revealed in the third translation (I wish the translators of the other two were not anonymous so I could refer to them more properly).  It is there rendered "with you", and given the footnote "through your entering it".  The word itself is far beyond my ability to parse in this context, given its widely various meanings (a quantifier meaning "how much", a noun meaning "muteness", and a seemingly all purpose preposition), but the average of the three translations seems to imply something like "through you, by means of you", which is certainly in line with Hulusi's ideas.

51: Another example of how the Quran is claiming the origin stories of the Pentateuch for itself.  Insofar as Abraham's descendants never returned to anywhere near Ur, this seems pretty anacrhonistic.

52: But of course the people were not grateful for very long.

53: Another chance for me to appreciate Hulusi leaving وَالفُرقانَ untranslated as "Furqan".  Its rendering as "criterion" in the other translations is rather opaque.

54: A rare example of the other translations taking a liberty that Hulusi does not.  أَنفُسَكُم is quite clearly "yourselves", so to kill the ego within ones self is a very reasonable interpretation.

55: Well this is a departure from the Pentateuch's version.  The Israelites did not say any such thing according to Exodus, and the rays from Moses' face were an unavoidable side effect of his divine encounter, rather than a conscious punishment.

56: "Give thanks" is clearly a better translation of تَشكُرونَ than Hulusi's "evaluate", both here and in 52.

57: Interesting that the blessings (shade, quail, manna) were provided to "you", but the errors were committed by "they".  This is consistent across translations, though it is not clear what it might mean.  What is clear is that nothing is exempt from Hulusi's metaphoric lens, and even the most straightforward and seemingly literal of narratives become metaphysical in his hands.

58: One of the potentially most interesting elements of this project will be the extent to which the narrative of the Quran supplements or elaborates on the narrative of the Pentateuch, as here.  There is no mention in the latter of the children of Israel stopping for succor at Jericho, and the detail adds weight to their later, bloodier return.

59: But one leaves this moment dissatisfied with the knowledge that there was an incident at (what may have been) Jericho, but that the Pentateuch doesn't mention it, and the Quran is maddeningly vague.  Hulusi, of course, is not interested in the narrative at all, and even goes so far as to suppose that the sky itself here is merely a metaphor for the amygdala.  Rather a stretch, if you ask me.

60: A fascinating intersection of Exodus, Al-Baqara, and Josephus here.  The former two are rather in agreement on what happened, though I don't recall Exodus including the detail that each of the tribes had its own stream of fresh water.  Tacitus, however, relies on the more mundane Hebrew oral tradition that Moses simply followed a herd of wild asses to where there was water just under the ground.

61: More interesting pronoun shenanigans here, enough to make one wonder how person designation works in Arabic:  the ingrates referring to "your" Lord, rather than "our"s, and another sudden shift from second person to third as in 57, this time without any correlation between time or judgement.

62: Whooooa this verse could be seen as a game changer, and certainly a welcome divergence from Christian dogma.  Even non-Muslims who call upon the Names of Allah (and there are many) are considered saved here.  This needs deeper scrutiny.

63: Two interesting things here:  firstly, that the Torah is charactarized not as God's promise, but as the Israelites' promise, accepted by God.   And secondly that the mountain itself was raised up (in all three translations to which I am referring here).  In what sense?  In the sense that the mountain itself is a testimony?  Or more literally?  When faced with such a dichotomy, it is a fair bet that Hulusi would choose the former.

64: خاسِرينَ is a very telling choice of epithet for nonbelievers.  Reliably (by which I mean all three translations agree) translated as "losers", it speaks to the way that the errant have been treated so far here:  not as wicked enemies, but as pitiable misguided.

65: A tempting question in light of this verse is why Muslims do not keep the Sabbath in the same way as the Jews did.  There is no distinction drawn so far between Jews and Muslims as an audience for this book.

66: Was the punishment here simply the spurning mentioned in 65?  It certainly seems to be referring to a specific event, lost to time and history, rather than a general practice.

67: A semantically difficult verse.  What is the relationship between the Jews' question and Moses' answer? At any rate, it is clear that up until this point the idea of sacrifice was rather alien to the Hebrew exiles.  And it is no doubt from this verse that the entire book takes its name, so one is tempted to view "sacrifice" as a continuing theme.

68: Another moment where I'm quite fond of Hulusi's leaving Rabb untranslated.  No doubt the vast majority of Jews and Muslims would take issue with his interpretation of it as one's own personal relationship with the divine, but the determiner "your" instead of "our" here and below certainly supports Hulusi's interpretation, albeit circumstantially.

69: The fact that Moses came back with a specific answer indicates that the questions were not, at Hulusi would have it, unnecessary.

70: The almost obsessive narrowing of the field says something about the Jews' desire to be as precise as possible, and also about Allah's willingness to indulge them.

71: It is almost as if they were not satisfied until the task was sufficiently difficult, and there was a real risk of failure.  It is very human to not see the value in something unless it is difficult.

 72: Another incident seemingly not recorded in the Pentateuch.  Unless the Egyptian killed by Moses is the murder in question here, but that seems a rather tenuous connection.  What murder could be referred to here, for which the entire tribe bore accountability?  Or is Allah indeed talking directly to Moses here?

73: Certainly I need to readjust my perception of this book.  I've been reading it as a declaration from Allah to the ancient Jews, misled by references to Israel et al.  But I need to recalibrate my pronoun references.  "You" here seems to be Arabs of Jewish descent, and the book is not a retelling of history, a la the Pentateuch, but a contemporary admonition given long afterward., in the seventh century.  This opens up the possibility that these verses are in fact referring to the death of Jesus--which still begs the question who the "We" refers to, since Muhammad himself is not a candidate during that time period. More pronoun trouble, though.  What is the "it" with which they were to strike the "dead" man?  Hulusi's assumption that "it" refers to a part of the sacrificed cow is echoed in other interpretations, but is not helpful.  I suspect that if the meaning of this cow is revealed, the name of the book itself would become clear.

74: What a wonderfully evocative verse.  The stones that gave forth their water to Moses, the stones that rolled away to reveal Jesus' empty tomb, even the stony hearts of the target audience here give way before the piercing insight of Allah.

75: Certainly not the last time this accusation could be leveled against the audience of this book.

76: A very specific indictment of those who learn and understand, but do not disseminate their understanding.

77: The concealment itself here is thesin.

78: Hulusi chooses to add the transliterated "ummiyyiina" (أُمِّيّونَ) here, which leads me to try and explicate the meaning.  One other translation renders it simply "them", as hulusi does here, while another choose the more specific "unlettered ones".  Various dictionaries render it "illiterate" or "uneducated", which gives credence to the latter translation, and explains why Hulusi felt it necessary to elaborate.

79: The condemnation here, then, is not of those who don't know.  Indeed, ignorance is forgiven earlier in verse 62.  But ignorance with a protestation of knowledge--that is what brings "woe".

80: So many of these people around, even today.

81: And the fire that they wish to avoid, whatever it is, is exactly the fire in which they will end up dwelling.

82: Whereas those who dwell in the righteousness of their Rabb will not be rewarded at some future point, but have already been rewarded by living in the paradise of truth.  But this is entirely my extrapolation.

83: Prayer and charity remain among the pillars of Islamic practice, but the key here is not the practices themselves, but the keeping of one's word to Allah.

84: Another reference to an unrecorded covenant, but one that makes it more clear that "you" are the Jews who settled at Medinah.  The specific promises made, however, are irrelevant.  It is the adherence to one's word, both individually and institutionally, that has been the focus of this entire section.

85: The Day of Resurrection is treated as a known dogma here, without further explication.  Such a promise enters into religious thought sometime after Jesus' death, and is so clearly established by this time that it's seen as self-evident.

86:  The idea of an afterlife, on the surface, seems incompatible with a Day of Resurrection.

87: It is my personal belief that the line of Rasuls (again helpfully untranslated by Hulusi) has never stopped.  Who are they today, though?  Each translation and dictionary has a different rendering of رَسولٌ--apostle, prophet, messenger--so Hulusi wisely leaves it here in the original.














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