Ibn Arabi (Fusus): Adão (comentários)

This chapter, as the title suggests, is largely concerned with the relationship between Adam  , who here symbolizes the archetype of humankind, and God  . More particularly it is concerned with Adam’s function in the creative process, as the principle of agency, transmission, reflection, and, indeed, as the very reason for the creation of the Cosmos. The chapter also discusses the nature of angels and the relationship between pairs of concepts essential to the understanding of the creative process, such as universal  -individual, necessary-contingent, first-last, outer-inner, light-darkness and approval-anger.

Ibn Arabi   opens the chapter, however, with the subject of the divine Names and their relationship with the divine Essence. By the term “Names,” he means the Names of God, the Name Allah being the supreme Name. These Names serve, essentially, to describe the infinite and complex modalities of the polarity God-Cosmos. The supreme Name itself, as being that of God Himself, clearly describes the overall and universal nature of that relationship, namely that it is God Who is the real, the Self-sufficient, while the Cosmos is, essentially, unreal and completely dependent. By the term “Essence” [dhat  ], he means what the divine being is in Itself, beyond any polarity or relationship with a cosmos. This term should not be confused [47] with “the Reality,” which denotes rather that primordial Being and eternal Perception which unites both polarity and nonpolarity. Thus the Names, including the supreme Name, have relevance or meaning only within the context of the polarity Divinity-Cosmos, and Adam represents precisely that principle which at once mediates and resolves the whole experience of that polarity, being that vital link without which the whole occurrence of divine Self-consciousness   would not be possible.

Ibn Arabi goes   on to illustrate this Adamic function with one of his favorite images, that of the mirror, by which he seeks to explain the mystery of “the reflection of reality in the mirror of illusion.” In this subtle image there are two elements, the mirror itself and the observing subject who sees his own image reflected in the mirror as object. Adam, being the linking factor in the process of reflection and recognition of the reflection, is representative of both the mirror and the observing subject, the mirror itself being a symbol of the receptivity and reflectivity of cosmic nature, and the observing subject being God Himself. Thus, Adam is described by Ibn Arabi as “the very principle of reflection” and the “spirit   of the [reflected] form.” However, Ibn Arabi was not thinking of the specially coated glass mirrors of our day, but rather of the highly polished metal mirror of his own time. Such mirrors served to illustrate better the metaphysical problems with which he was dealing. To begin with, such mirrors had to be kept polished in order to preserve their reflective qualities and, furthermore, it required great skill by the craftsman to make a perfectly flat surface. With such a mirror, therefore, there was always the possibility of surface deterioration and distortion. Thus, so long as the mirror was perfectly polished and flat, the observing subject might see his own form or image perfectly reflected on its surface, in which case the otherness of the mirror itself is reduced to a minimum in the observing consciousness, or even effaced completely. To the extent, however, that the mirror reflects a dulled or distorted image, it manifests its own otherness and detracts from the identity of image and subject. Indeed, the distorted and imperfect image presents something alien to the subject, who then may become involved in efforts to improve and perfect the mirror, so that he might achieve a more perfect self-consciousness. Thus, in the mirror we have a very apt symbol of the divine-cosmic polarity. At one extreme of the relationship cosmic Nature threatens to absorb and assimiliate the subject in the infinity and complexity of his creative urge, while, at the other, the [48] divine Subject seems to annihilate Nature in the reassertion of identity, each being, at once, another and non-other.

Adam, as the archetype of humankind, is therefore in his essential nature at once the medium   of sight by which the observing Subject beholds His own cosmic image or reflection and the medium of reflection by which the cosmic “other” is restored to Itself. As medium, therefore, it is Adam who is the very principle of the polar relationship, and who, as such, knows the Names of God, which he is ordered in the Qur’an to teach to the angels.

The subjects of the angelic state has always been a problematic one for theology. For Ibn Arabi the angels seem to have been particularizations of divine power, whether creative or recreative, beings who, while close to the divine presence, nevertheless had no share in the physical and formal actuality of cosmic creation. Thus, they are purely spiritual beings, quite unlike the bipolar and synthetic Adamic being who alone, of all creation, shares in the Self-consciousness of the Reality. Similarly, the animal   creation, as particularization of purely cosmic life, lies outside the uniquely synthetic experience of the human state.

Another image Ibn Arabi employs in this chapter, and which is particularly appropriate to this work, is that of the seal-ring. In this image, man is seen as the seal that seals and protects the cosmic treasure house of God and on which is stamped the signet of its Owner. Thus Adam, as man, is the receptive wax that bears the image of the all-embracing and supreme Name of God, the breaking of which seal means the end of all cosmic becoming.

However, as has been pointed out above, while in the main insisting on the eternal supremacy of the cognitive and volitive pole, Ibn Arabi always returns, as in this chapter, to the underlying mutuality of the polar experience, in keeping with thie fundamental concept of the Oneness of Being. Thus, as he points out here, the term “origin” is meaningless without assuming the existence of what is “originated,” and so on with all polar concepts, including the terms “God” and “Lord,” which are significant only if the corresponding terms “worshiper” and “slave” are implied.

In keeping with this basic premise of Ibn Arabi’s thought, it is not surprising to find that his notion of the Devil or Satan   is somewhat different from that of ordinary theology. Indeed, he sees the diabolic principle in two ways. First, it is for him that principle which resists the Self-realizing urge to create the own-other object and insists [49] on the sole right of pure spirit and transcendence, this being the reason for Satan’s refusal to obey God’s command to prostrate himself to Adam, from jealousy for the integrity of pure spirit. Second, it is also that principle which insists on the separate reality of cosmic life and substance and which denies all primacy to the Spirit. In other words, it is that principle which would seek to insist on the separate reality of either pole, at the expense of the other, and thus to impair the original wholeness of the divine experience as the Reality by trying to sever the all-important link between “own” and “other” and consign each to mutually exclusive isolation in absurdity.

The Ringstone of Adam begins with the Real (al-Haqq), which might also be rendered as the Truth or the Reality. It signifies the Essence of God, the Ultimate Reality beyond all distinctions, polarities, and relativizations. The Essence or Self is neither this or that, nor is it not this or not that, being beyond all qualifications. Ibn Arabi employs al-Haqq, as do other Islamic metaphysicians, not only as an alternate expression for Allāh, but also out of a sense   of spiritual propriety or adab. This is not to say that the use of the Name Allāh as such is considered a blasphemy or an act of taking the divine Name in vain. Rather, the use of the Name Allāh invokes a presence that is, in a sense, too much for certain contexts to bear. Among the Sufis, not only is the Name Allah the Supreme Name that encompasses all other Names, but it is also the personal Name of God, as it is for all believers. Allāh carries with it a tremendum not only by virtue of God’s omnipotence and utter transcendence but also as a result of the awesome proximity that it owns by virtue of being the all-encompassing Name. Through employing a Name such as the Real, one is able to evoke the all-comprehensiveness and totality of God without abusing the Name Allah. In almost all cases where some sort of identity is implied or stated between the Divine and its manifestations, a Name other than Allah is used. It is not a question of the use of the Name Allāh as such, but of using it with poor adab and with a pseudo-mystical self-indulgence. Ibn Arabi’s use of al-Haqq in instances where the divinity and creature seem to be changing places in the text is an expression of the operative and lived presence which the Name Allah evokes for the author of such a work and traditionally for most of its readers. The economy of the use of the Name Allah and other Essence-denoting Names such as al-Haqq expresses a recognition that one does not talk about God the way one talks about other conceptual categories. [DagliRW  ]