Caring for Others: Sufism and Altruism

Posted on March 8, 2013 by michigansufi

“If we are to survive as a species on this planet, we need to embrace views or belief systems that are inclusive of others.”

By Alireza Nurbakhsh

from Sufi Journal, Issue 84

Altruism has been a central aspect of Persian Sufism since it was developed by such figures as Ibrahim Adham (d. 782), Shaqiq Balkhi (d. 810), Bayazid (d. 874), Abul-Hasan Kharaqani (d. 1033) and Abu Said Abel Khayr (d. 1049) in the region of Khorasan, now the north-eastern part of Iran. Altruism, as developed by these early Khorasanian Sufis and practiced by Persian Sufis for centuries down to the present day, advocates that Sufis—indeed all human beings—should serve God by remaining in society and helping and serving others. It stands in stark contrast with the Sufi tradition that was developed in Baghdad by Junaid (d. 910) and his followers, which advocated the practice of renunciation and withdrawal from society as the central tenet of Sufism.

Altruism is a disposition in human beings and some animals that enables them to do something for other beings with no expectation of reward or even of receiving recognition for one’s altruistic act. Certain acts of altruism come naturally to most of us. If we see a blind woman who needs help to cross a street, we instinctively offer her assistance. If we see destitute people in abject poverty, we are moved and try to ease their pain by giving them some of our possessions. If we see an infant crying, we naturally wish to comfort the child. There are also many examples of altruism in the animal kingdom. Dolphins, for example, have been known to support sick or injured animals by swimming under them for hours at a time and pushing them to the surface so they can breathe.

Recent studies in neuroscience suggest that there is a neurological basis for altruism, that this trait is inherent in us. These experiments show that when we generously place the interests of others before our own, a primitive part of our brain—usually stimulated in response to food and sex—becomes activated, suggesting that altruism is not a superior moral faculty but rather something hard-wired in our brain, that when stimulated makes us feel good (see note 1). In other words, it is natural for us to behave altruistically; it is not instilled in us through religion or moral teachings. It comes to us as easily as eating food.

Altruistic behavior is rooted in empathy, in the ability to put oneself in another’s position and identify with his or her state or situation. Again, recent studies in neuroscience have shown that observing another person’s emotional state activates parts of the brain that are involved in processing the same state in oneself (see note 2). Thus, when we are confronted with the pain of another person, we tend to feel pain ourselves. Research has also shown that in people suffering from certain types of psychopathology the components of neural circuits involved in empathy are impaired, causing them not to care about other people and their feelings.

If altruism and empathy are so natural and basic to our physiology, why then do we so often act selfishly, pursuing what we think is in our best interests without regard to the feelings and interests of others? What has gone wrong? No doubt a comprehensive answer to this question requires a deeper understanding of human nature through a number of disciplines, including genetics, neurophysiology, anthropology and psychology. But here I would like to venture a limited response to this question in terms of our higher cognitive functions.

Recent scientific research shows that animals and humans are more altruistic towards close members of their family and friends than towards their distant kin and non-kin (see note 3). This is because we are more able and willing to empathize with those most similar to ourselves. In particular, empathy increases with similarities in culture and living conditions (see note 4). Put another way, the more dissimilar we feel towards others, the less likely it is that we will empathize with them and treat them with generosity.

There are many factors involved in causing us to feel similar or dissimilar to others, including our family upbringing and the cultural, religious and moral values of the society in which we happen to exist. The more we are indoctrinated by ideologies and value-systems that emphasize our differences from people whose customs or beliefs differ from our own, the more likely it is that we will lack empathy for them. We will tend to perceive such people as “other,” as somehow less than fully human. When we dehumanize others, we are no longer capable of empathizing with them. In the Holocaust and many other cases of genocide or mass killing, people were willing to destroy other people, even their own neighbors, without guilt or remorse because they were led to believe that their victims were so different from them that they were in fact not human beings!

If we are to survive as a species on this planet, we need to embrace views or belief systems that are inclusive of others, that emphasize the essential similarities among people rather than the differences, which we know with a moment’s reflection to be superficial and insignificant in comparison. Our views of the world should reinforce our basic instincts of altruism and empathy. Take, for example, the notion of sin that is an element of many religions. Once one views a person as sinful, one creates a chasm between oneself and that person, thereby blocking the path of empathy. By contrast, consider the concept of compassion, which is an integral part of Buddhist practice. Here we are encouraged to direct our compassion equally towards all beings, without distinction, which is in complete agreement with our natural instincts of empathy and altruism.

Sufism also is known for its inclusive nature. All living creatures are essentially manifestations of one being, one reality, and therefore the entire cosmos is in essence one and the same thing—a reflection of the divine. One who experiences the unity of being will embrace all of humanity and all living things with the utmost feelings of empathy. It is in the spirit of such altruism that Kharaqani placed a sign at the entrance of his khaniqah with the following message: “Whoever comes here should be given food without being asked about their creed and religion.”

The altruism practiced by the early Khorasanian Sufis went beyond the practice of altruism as I have described here. In fact it was defined in terms of caring for the welfare of others before and prior to one’s own welfare and comfort, without any expectation of reward.

‘Attar, one of the greatest Sufi poets (d. 1221), relates the following story about Ibrahim Adham. One day three people were performing their devotional practices in a ruined mosque. After they went to sleep, Ibrahim stood by the door of the mosque until morning. When he was asked later to explain his action, he replied that the weather was very cold and a harsh wind was blowing. Since there was no door to the mosque, he stood in the threshold to make it possible for the people inside to sleep.

Some Sufis have gone so far as to say that one’s altruism is the most important disposition in reaching God. Kharaqani relates the following story to his disciples: There were two brothers, one who devoted himself completely to God and the other who dedicated himself to their mother. After a while the brother who devoted himself to God had a vision in which God tells him that his brother has reached salvation through serving their mother. He was puzzled and asked God for an explanation. “Because,” God replied, “He served the needy and you served the One who has no need.”

Another reason why we lose our empathy for others is our preoccupation with our problems and ourselves. When we become depressed, anxious or angry because our lives are not as we would like we lose the capacity to care about other people. We become so crippled with our own state that we have no time to feel others.

There are, of course, many methods to overcome such negative states, ranging from psychiatric drugs and psychotherapy to the practice of meditation. In the Sufi tradition, however, the main remedy to cure oneself of such negative states is to actively engage in altruistic actions even when one is not inclined to do so. This enforces our natural instincts. Persistent altruism towards one’s spiritual guide and other people, regardless of how one feels or what one wants for oneself, will help the spiritual traveller to rid himself or herself of negative states. This is also borne out by recent psychological studies that indicate there is strong correlation between altruism and the general well-being of an individual. People who engage in helping others suffer significantly less depression and anxiety than those who do not (see note 5). Clearly altruism plays a key factor in our psychological health.

The early Sufis of Khorasan discovered something fundamental about spirituality as well as the biology of our humanity: that the path of enlightenment converges with our basic instinct of empathy and altruism. Their discovery was as significant then as it is relevant now. With the world population increasing at an alarming rate (by the year 2050 it is estimated the world population will be nine and a half billion), and with limited resources in many poor countries, it seems inevitable that conflicts will increase throughout the world. Though we may never be able to eliminate conflict between people, we can certainly contribute to its decline by following the path of the Sufis from Khorasan.

Notes
1 See, for example, Jorge Moll and Jordan Grafman. “Human Fronto-Mesolimbic Networks Guide Decisions About Charitable Donation.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, October 17, 2006, Vol. 103 (42), pp. 15623-15628.
2 See, for example, Preston, S., & de Waal, F. “Empathy: Its ultimate and proximate bases.” Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 2002, 25(1), pp. 1-71.
3 See, for example, Okasha, Samir. “Biological Altruism.” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.
4 Hoffman, M.L. Empathy and Moral Development. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 2000.
5 See, for example, Hunter, K. I. and Linn, M. W. “Psychosocial differences between elderly volunteers and non-volunteers”, The International Journal of Aging & Human Development, 1980, 12 (3): 205-213.

Friendship

Posted on December 3, 2012 by michigansufi

by Alireza Nurbakhsh

from Sufi Journal, issue 82

The Sufis refer to God as the Friend (dūst). This is based on the Koranic verse yuhibbuhum wa yuhibbuhunah (God loves them and they love Him, 5:45), which is interpreted by the Sufis as meaning that it is God’s love for us that gives rise to our love for Him. Fakhruddin Iraqi, the 13th-century Persian Sufi, defines friendship with God as a relationship where God’s love precedes the spiritual traveller’s love for God. Put another way, God is the Friend because He instilled in us the experience of love and loving-kindness. One can interpret this to mean that from a Sufi point of view a friend is someone who leads us to experience love and friendliness.

But there is a deeper reason for referring to God as the Friend. This is, I believe, to highlight that through the act of friendship one can experience oneness. By this I mean the experience whereby we do not “see” ourselves as being separate from others. This gradual loss of focus on the self may begin with feeling empathy with others, then grow into a sense of identification with others and sometimes culminate in the experience of oneness, in which one is no longer conscious of any separation between oneself and other people. Muhammad Shirin Maghribi, the 14th-century Persian Sufi, has written the following poem about such an experience:

That spiritual friend knocked at my door last night.
“Who is it?” I asked. He answered, “Open the door. It is you!”
“How can I be You?” I asked. He answered, “We are one,
but the veil has hidden us in duality.”
We and I, he and you, have become the veil,
And how well this has veiled you from yourself!
If you wish to know how we and he and all are one,
Pass beyond this ‘I’, this ‘we’, this ‘you’.

The act of friendship is different from the act of loving. In a relationship of friendship both parties care for each other and give and receive benefits from each other. This reciprocity may not exist in the act of loving, for we may love someone without our beloved giving anything in return or even knowing that he or she is being loved by us.

Aristotle was one of the first philosophers in antiquity to write about the nature of friendship. In his Nicomachean Ethics he sets forth three main reasons why people become friends with one another. These reasons are pleasure, utility and good character. Of these, Aristotle believed that only a friendship based on good character can turn out to be a perfect friendship. This is because it is only in such a friendship that one likes or loves the other person for the other person’s sake. In friendship based on pleasure or utility, though we may confer benefit to our friend, our basic motive is to receive benefit for ourselves.

According to Aristotle, a true friend is one who not only likes us for who we are but also one who wants what is good for us. Friendship is a relationship of reciprocal goodwill in which each party likes the other party for the other person’s sake, always wanting what is good for the other.

There are two aspects of Aristotle’s view of friendship that are relevant to our understanding of friendship from the Sufi point of view. The first aspect is that a perfect or true friendship should not be based on any ulterior motive. The more we like someone for who they are, the closer we get to not experiencing our “self” in the act of friendship. The stripping away of ulterior motives in our friendship with others brings us closer to the experience of oneness, for it is our desire to benefit ourselves first and foremost that keeps us from this experience.

The second aspect of Aristotle’s theory of friendship is what he called eunoia, meaning “goodwill” or “wanting what is good for the other.” Aristotle does not explain it, as he may have thought that this concept is sufficiently clear. From the Sufi view of friendship, “wanting what is good for the other” not only means to confer benefit on the other but also encompasses two other fundamental principles.

The first principle is the acceptance of one’s friends as they are, without criticizing them for their shortcomings. Friends do not “see” any faults in each other because each “sees” the other as being part of the whole, the One. There is a story about Ibrahim Adham, a 9th-century Persian Sufi from Khorasan, who was once visited by a stranger. The guest stayed with Ibrahim for a few days and when he was about to leave, he asked Ibrahim to make him aware of any faults that Ibrahim had noticed during his stay. Ibrahim replied, “I looked at you with the ‘eye’ of friendship and therefore everything about you was pleasant to me.”

The second principle is that for Sufis goodwill should be understood as wanting what is good for other first and foremost and prior to wanting what is good for oneself. One’s friends always have priority over oneself.

Sufis also refer to their spiritual guide as a friend, and the relationship between master and disciple in Sufism is often depicted as one of friendship. The meaning of “goodwill” in this context, however, becomes different. It seems that for Aristotle both the giver and the receiver of goodwill should be cognizant of the act of goodwill. This is how friends enjoy and appreciate their friendship, and this is also implied in my discussion above about friendship and Sufism.

But in the context of the spiritual guide’s relationship with the disciple, “what is good for the other” may not be what disciple wants; instead it may be unpleasant or even painful. This is because most of us are prisoners of our own ego and therefore consider the behavior of others toward us as “goodwill” only if it satisfies our own desires and wishes. A spiritual guide in Sufism is someone who, without any expectation of appreciation or gratitude, creates every opportunity for us to confront our nafs (ego) and realize our own imperfections and then helps us overcome our shortcomings. This can sometimes evoke in us pain or anger at our guide, as we usually react negatively when people show us our own shortcomings.

Rumi in his Mathnawi, tells the story of Dhu’l-Nun, a Sufi master who lived during the 9th-century and was put away in an asylum by his own people because they could not tolerate his strange behavior. One day a group of Dhu’l-Nun’s so-called friends decided to visit him. As they were about to enter his room, Dhu’l-Nun asked them who they were; they replied that they were his friends. As soon as Dhu’l-Nun heard this, he began acting like a madman and cursed them, whereupon they all fled.

Dhu’l-Nun burst out laughing, shaking his head,
“Look at the hot air of my so-called friends.”
A true friend never feels burdened by the suffering of another,
The kindness of a friend is like a shell engulfing one’s suffering.
The sign of friendship cannot be found in good times,
It is at times of calamity and suffering that we come to know our friends.
A friend is like gold and one’s suffering resembles fire.
Pure gold remains blissful in the midst of fire.

Dhu’l-Nun’s behavior was indeed an act of goodwill although his so-called friends did not have the insight to perceive it as such. He gave them an opportunity to realize their own hypocrisy and insincerity—an opportunity that they did not perceive or embrace—and thus he continued to pay the price for his goodwill, remaining confined in the asylum.

What Dhu’l-Nun’s friends lacked was the quality of trust in their friend. It is through trust of our friends that we give them the opportunity to expose us to their essential kindness. It is through trust that we can accept our friends the way they are and believe that ultimately they want what is good for us. The expression of “trust in God” means to accept, in a profound sense, what happens to us in the course of our lives because God as friend always wants what is good for us although we may not always perceive it as such.