Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500-1800 (70 page)
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Authors: Khaled El-Rouayheb
BOOK: Before Homosexuality in the Arab-Islamic World, 1500-1800
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The fact that an act is listed in Ibn Hajar’s
al-Zawājir
as a major sin is thus far from sufficient to show that it was actually considered to be a major sin by Islamic jurists, or indeed by Ibn Hajar himself. Ibn Hajar’s assessment of the gravity of the sin of composing love poetry of a specified boy appears in a somewhat different light in a work on love by the Egyptian-born scholar ʿAbd al-Muʿīn ibn al-Bakkāʾ (d. 1630/1). In the summer of 1565, less than a year before he died, Ibn Hajar was visited by Ibn al-Bakkāʾ in his home in Mecca and told him the following story: a man loved a youth named Badr, who fell ill and died on a night in which the moon (
badr
) was full. The lamenting lover addressed the following couplet to the moon:
al-Zawājir
as a major sin is thus far from sufficient to show that it was actually considered to be a major sin by Islamic jurists, or indeed by Ibn Hajar himself. Ibn Hajar’s assessment of the gravity of the sin of composing love poetry of a specified boy appears in a somewhat different light in a work on love by the Egyptian-born scholar ʿAbd al-Muʿīn ibn al-Bakkāʾ (d. 1630/1). In the summer of 1565, less than a year before he died, Ibn Hajar was visited by Ibn al-Bakkāʾ in his home in Mecca and told him the following story: a man loved a youth named Badr, who fell ill and died on a night in which the moon (
badr
) was full. The lamenting lover addressed the following couplet to the moon:
Your namesake is in his grave, and you still shine thereafter, O moon?!
Would that you had been eclipsed, this being your wearing black at his loss!
That night, said Ibn Hajar, a lunar eclipse did take place, whereupon the overwhelmed lover died as well.
172
Of course, even the strictest jurists allowed a person to cite the illicit poetry of others. Yet, the tone in which the story is related suggests that the reader is meant to feel sympathy for the unhappy lover, rather than conclude that he has committed a major sin by alluding to the name of his beloved. After relating several such stories of people who died from passionate love, Ibn al-Bakkāʾ wrote: “It is desirable, indeed it is a duty, to assist the beloved and aid the yearner, and so it has been said: It is the duty of any man of honor to support the passionate lover morally and with money, and if not, with prayer.”
173
172
Of course, even the strictest jurists allowed a person to cite the illicit poetry of others. Yet, the tone in which the story is related suggests that the reader is meant to feel sympathy for the unhappy lover, rather than conclude that he has committed a major sin by alluding to the name of his beloved. After relating several such stories of people who died from passionate love, Ibn al-Bakkāʾ wrote: “It is desirable, indeed it is a duty, to assist the beloved and aid the yearner, and so it has been said: It is the duty of any man of honor to support the passionate lover morally and with money, and if not, with prayer.”
173
Indeed, there is more direct evidence from juridical works themselves which suggest that composing forbidden love poetry was deemed to be at most a minor sin. The Damascene Ḥanafī jurist Ibn ʿĀbidīn seems to have held that love poetry was permissible, unless it was cultivated to an inordinate degree or the poet specified the identity of the beloved woman or boy, in which case it was reprehensible (
makrūh
) if the woman or boy was alive at the time of composition.
174
An act that is deemed “reprehensible”
(makrūh)
is not, strictly speaking, prohibited
(ḥarām),
and committing it thus cannot be called a sin at all, not even a minor one. If one of the four recognized schools of law held the composing of such poetry to be at most reprehensible, then it is very unlikely that the other schools would have held it to be a major rather than minor sin.
175
A handbook of Shāfiʿī law glossed by the Egyptian jurist Ahmad al-Qalyūbī expounded the principle that witnesses in a court of law should not have committed major sins or persevered in committing minor sins. The handbook gave as examples of major sins manslaughter, fornication, sodomy, drinking alcohol, and stealing, and as examples of minor sins looking at what one is not permitted to look at, telling a harmless lie, and making remarks that were slanderous
(ghībah)
without amounting to false accusation of serious crimes (
qadhf
)
.
The handbook then proceeded to state that playing backgammon (
al-nard
) is prohibited, as is playing chess for money, playing or listening to most musical instruments, and composing poetry which involves the defamation of Muslims or portrays a specified boy or a woman not available for licit intercourse. Qalyūbī commented thus on the statement that playing backgammon is prohibited: “That is, it is one of the minor sins, like what follows from what will be mentioned (
ay wa min al-ṣaghāʾir ka-al-ladhī baʿdahu mimmā yaʾtī).”
176
Qalyūbīʾs phrase is crucially ambiguous. He could be referring to all of the sins that follow, or only to the sin that is mentioned immediately after playing backgammon, playing chess for money. However, the latter reading would suggest that Qalyūbī believed that the other sins—playing or listening to musical instruments, and composing poetry that involves defaming Muslims or specifying the beloved woman or boy—were not minor sins. This is very unlikely. Playing or listening to musical instruments, especially wind and string instruments, was prohibited by most jurists. However, other juridical sources reveal that it was held to be a minor sin that did not disqualify the perpetrator from being a witness in a court of law unless he or she did it habitually.
177
Ibn Hajar, who belonged to the same school of law as Qalyūbī, wrote a work dealing mainly with the religious status of playing and listening to musical instruments. One chapter of the work is devoted to discussing whether such acts should be considered a major or minor sin. The conclusion of the chapter was unequivocal:
makrūh
) if the woman or boy was alive at the time of composition.
174
An act that is deemed “reprehensible”
(makrūh)
is not, strictly speaking, prohibited
(ḥarām),
and committing it thus cannot be called a sin at all, not even a minor one. If one of the four recognized schools of law held the composing of such poetry to be at most reprehensible, then it is very unlikely that the other schools would have held it to be a major rather than minor sin.
175
A handbook of Shāfiʿī law glossed by the Egyptian jurist Ahmad al-Qalyūbī expounded the principle that witnesses in a court of law should not have committed major sins or persevered in committing minor sins. The handbook gave as examples of major sins manslaughter, fornication, sodomy, drinking alcohol, and stealing, and as examples of minor sins looking at what one is not permitted to look at, telling a harmless lie, and making remarks that were slanderous
(ghībah)
without amounting to false accusation of serious crimes (
qadhf
)
.
The handbook then proceeded to state that playing backgammon (
al-nard
) is prohibited, as is playing chess for money, playing or listening to most musical instruments, and composing poetry which involves the defamation of Muslims or portrays a specified boy or a woman not available for licit intercourse. Qalyūbī commented thus on the statement that playing backgammon is prohibited: “That is, it is one of the minor sins, like what follows from what will be mentioned (
ay wa min al-ṣaghāʾir ka-al-ladhī baʿdahu mimmā yaʾtī).”
176
Qalyūbīʾs phrase is crucially ambiguous. He could be referring to all of the sins that follow, or only to the sin that is mentioned immediately after playing backgammon, playing chess for money. However, the latter reading would suggest that Qalyūbī believed that the other sins—playing or listening to musical instruments, and composing poetry that involves defaming Muslims or specifying the beloved woman or boy—were not minor sins. This is very unlikely. Playing or listening to musical instruments, especially wind and string instruments, was prohibited by most jurists. However, other juridical sources reveal that it was held to be a minor sin that did not disqualify the perpetrator from being a witness in a court of law unless he or she did it habitually.
177
Ibn Hajar, who belonged to the same school of law as Qalyūbī, wrote a work dealing mainly with the religious status of playing and listening to musical instruments. One chapter of the work is devoted to discussing whether such acts should be considered a major or minor sin. The conclusion of the chapter was unequivocal:
To sum up, the authoritative verdict of our school is that this is one of the minor sins as long as it is not habitual to such an extent that the perpetrator’s transgressions outweigh his compliance with the law, in which case it would be like a major sin in being incompatible with being an upright person and in annulling legal testimony.
178
Ibn Ḥajar characteristically included the composing of poetry which involves the defamation of Muslims in his
al-Zawājir
as one of the major sins (number 456), but his ensuing discussion makes it clear that the standard position of jurists was that it was a minor sin, and thus only disqualified the person composing such poetry from being a witness in court if done habitually:
al-Zawājir
as one of the major sins (number 456), but his ensuing discussion makes it clear that the standard position of jurists was that it was a minor sin, and thus only disqualified the person composing such poetry from being a witness in court if done habitually:
To say without qualification that defamatory poetry annuls legal testimony is implausible, since verse is like prose ... and thus it should be said that if he [the composer of defamatory poetry] does it excessively, or becomes infamous for such activity, or defames in a manner that is not compatible with being an upright person, by saying things which it is a major sin to say, then his testimony is annulled. However, if he does not defame excessively, and does not become infamous for such activity, and does not say things which it is a major sin to say, then his testimony is not annulled.
179
The considered opinion of Shāfiʿī jurists thus seems to have been that playing backgammon, playing and listening to musical instruments, and composing defamatory poetry were minor sins. Since an influential handbook of Shāfiʿī law mentions composing love poetry of a specified boy or woman not available for licit sexual intercourse in the same breath as the other three sins, it seems reasonable to conclude that it too was considered to be a minor offense.
The fact that religious jurists disapproved of playing backgammon, listening to musical instruments, or saying love poetry of someone who was not available for licit sexual intercourse of course does not imply that these activities were not an important and visible part of popular culture. Indeed the evidence of travel literature clearly suggests that such activities were as popular in the Arab world in the early Ottoman period as they are now.
180
Then as now, ordinary believers seem to have been able to acknowledge the religious authority of the jurists while at the same time resisting a wholesale adoption of their austere outlook and way of life. In the sixteenth century many jurists expressed their disapproval of the new habit of drinking coffee. In the following century tobacco was introduced into the Middle East and was likewise met with suspicion by many jurists. In both cases, there was obviously little that jurists could do to stop the spread of the habit. An illustration of how ordinary believers could respect the authority of jurists and yet refuse to obey them on such matters is provided by the chronicler ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Jabartī (d. 1825/6). According to Jabartī, the prominent Mālikī jurist ʿAlī al-ʿAdawī (d. 1775) was “very unyielding in matters of refigion”
(shadīd al-shakīmah fī al-dīn),
and was given to “commanding the good and proscribing the bad.” He held smoking tobacco to be prohibited, and when word got around that he was approaching, people would hastily pack away their pipes and hide them from him. Even the de facto ruler of Egypt between 1760 and 1773, ʿAlī Bey, would, according to Jabartī, hide his pipes before ʿAdawī was to enter his presence.
181
Jabartī of course intended the story to illustrate the respect that was accorded the jurist by high and low. However, he inadvertently also illustrated how both high and low had no intention of giving up smoking simply because particularly zealous scholars held it to be forbidden.
180
Then as now, ordinary believers seem to have been able to acknowledge the religious authority of the jurists while at the same time resisting a wholesale adoption of their austere outlook and way of life. In the sixteenth century many jurists expressed their disapproval of the new habit of drinking coffee. In the following century tobacco was introduced into the Middle East and was likewise met with suspicion by many jurists. In both cases, there was obviously little that jurists could do to stop the spread of the habit. An illustration of how ordinary believers could respect the authority of jurists and yet refuse to obey them on such matters is provided by the chronicler ʿAbd al-Raḥmān al-Jabartī (d. 1825/6). According to Jabartī, the prominent Mālikī jurist ʿAlī al-ʿAdawī (d. 1775) was “very unyielding in matters of refigion”
(shadīd al-shakīmah fī al-dīn),
and was given to “commanding the good and proscribing the bad.” He held smoking tobacco to be prohibited, and when word got around that he was approaching, people would hastily pack away their pipes and hide them from him. Even the de facto ruler of Egypt between 1760 and 1773, ʿAlī Bey, would, according to Jabartī, hide his pipes before ʿAdawī was to enter his presence.
181
Jabartī of course intended the story to illustrate the respect that was accorded the jurist by high and low. However, he inadvertently also illustrated how both high and low had no intention of giving up smoking simply because particularly zealous scholars held it to be forbidden.
It is certainly legitimate to speak of a divergence between the austere ideals expounded by religious jurists and the less austere ways of society at large. However, it is equally certain that it is distortingly simplistic to assimilate the case of “homosexuality” to that of playing backgammon or listening to musical instruments, as one more type of behavior prohibited by Islam but tolerated in Islamic society. Some aspects of what today might be called “homosexuality”—falling in love with a teenage boy and expressing this love in verse—were tolerated or considered to be peccadilloes by most religious scholars. Other aspects, such as repeatedly and flagrantly flouting the religious ban on sodomy, could easily have incurred the censure of ordinary “lay” believers, not to mention severe or capital punishment. The case of two young men convicted of sodomy in Damascus in mid-December 1807 serves as a reminder of the possible consequences. On the order of the governor of the city, they were executed by being thrown off one of the minarets of the Umayyad mosque.
182
182
Conclusion
The concept of male homosexuality did not exist in the Arab-Islamic Middle East in the early Ottoman period. There was simply no native concept that was applicable to all and only those men who were sexually attracted to members of their own sex, rather than to women. Distinctions elided by the concept of homosexuality appeared significant to contemporaries: between the active and the passive partner; between passionate but chaste love and carnal lust ; between permissible and prohibited sexual acts. Each distinction was central to a particular cultural strand. One influential strand tended to depict sexual intercourse as a polarizing act in which the dominant, “male” penetrator asserts his dominance over the subordinate, “female” penetrated. The active and passive sodomite thus tended to be assimilated to opposing sides of the fundamental dichotomy between genders. From this point of view, the penetrated male was dishonored and stigmatized by being cast in a female role, while the penetrator was not. Another cultural strand tended to idealize a man’s love of beautiful women and youths, and implicitly or explicitly dissociated this phenomenon from the fornication and sodomy condemned by religious law. The Platonic love of human beauty was valued either as part of a wider ideal of refined sensibility, or as a way of loving an omnipresent and infinitely beautiful God. The religious-juridical strand focused on acts to the exclusion of desires and inclinations. Sexual acts between men were part of the general category of unlawful intercourse. There was no single juridical concept, and no single punishment, for all kinds of homosexual intercourse. Anal intercourse was a more severe sin than, say, intercrural intercourse, passionate kissing, or caressing. Indeed, the latter acts were considered less grave than certain forms of heterosexual intercourse. Falling in love with a teenage youth and expressing this love in verse were not punishable offenses, and a significant number of Islamic scholars, though not all, asserted that such behavior was not objectionable.
The three strands were relatively self-contained and embodied potentially conflicting ideals: of masculinity, of refined aesthetic sensibility, and of conformity to religious stipulations. Sometimes, the conflict was actualized: what from one perspective appeared as “screwing” was “sodomy” to another; the “inclination to boys” could alternatively be a “sensibility to beauty”; the appreciation of divine beauty could be seen as a willful exposition of the self to temptation. It is possible to speculate as to the relative weight of these ideals among various social groups. It seems clear, for example, that the second ideal was especially influential among belletrists and monist mystics; while the third was more relevant to jurists, hadīth-scholars, and ascetic Sufis. One might also suppose that the influence of both mystical aestheticism and austere moralistic asceticism was socially quite limited. The former was self-consciously elitist and was linked to a complex mystical philosophy. The latter, which frowned on such things as music, tobacco, coffee, secular poetry, and looking at youths, probably ran counter to what appears to have been a moderate but persistent hedonistic streak in popular culture.
Other variables than social group also seem relevant to the discussion of the influence of the various cultural perspectives. There is, for example, abundant evidence to suggest that young men in their twenties and early thirties were expected to be more inclined to pursue pleasure than older men, and that their youthful dispositions were condoned to some extent. As has been mentioned previously, graying hair was often depicted as one of the indicators that the time of passionate love and carefree pursuit of fancy was coming to a close. One anonymous couplet portrayed graying hair on the part of the lover as the counterpart of the beard on the cheeks of a beloved:
I’ve become gray-haired, and my beloved has become bearded; he has left me and I’ve left him.My black [hair] has become white, and his white [cheek] has become black.
1
The Yemeni scholar Muhammad ibn Ismāʿīl al-Amīr (d. 1768) expressed a similar sentiment in the following lines of poetry:
And poetry is only for the young and budding. As for what comes after that: What have older men to do with poetry? ...And I do not countenance the disparagement of graying hair, for it indicates sobriety and a forewarning to those who know.It makes me forget every young woman or man, so I no longer complain of the turning away of a sun [
fem.
] or moon [
masc.
]
.
2
2
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