Voices of Islam (185 page)

The walls of certain mosques, covered with glazed earthenware mosaic or a tissue of delicate arabesques in stucco, recall the symbolism of the curtain (
hijab
). According to a saying of the Prophet, God hides Himself behind 70,000 curtains of light and the darkness; ‘‘if they were taken away, all that His sight reaches would be consumed by the lightnings of His Countenance.’’ The curtains are made of light in that they hide the Divine ‘‘obscurity,’’ and of darkness in that they veil the Divine Light.

Islam regards itself as the renewal of the primordial religion of humanity. The Divine Faith has been revealed through the mediation of the prophets or the ‘‘messengers,’’ at very different times to the most diverse people. The Qur’an is but the final confirmation, the ‘‘seal,’’ of all these numerous revelations, the sequence of which goes back to Adam; Judaism and Christianity have the same title to inclusion in the sequence as the revelations that preceded them.

This is the point of view that predisposes Islamic civilization to take to itself the heritage of more ancient traditions, at the same time stripping the legacy of its mythological clothing, and reclothing it with more ‘‘abstract’’ expres- sions, more nearly in conformity with its pure doctrine of Unity. Thus it is that the craft traditions, such as persisted in Islamic countries to the very threshold of our times, are generally said to have come down from certain pre-Islamic prophets, particularly from Seth, the third son of Adam, who reestablished the cosmic equilibrium after the murder of Abel by Cain. Abel represents nomadism, the rearing of animals, and Cain sedentarism, the cultivation of the earth; Seth is therefore synonymous with the synthesis of the two currents.
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Pre-Islamic prototypes preserved in the craft tradition also came to be connected with certain parables in the Qur’an and with certain sayings of the Prophet, in the same way as pre-Christian traditions assimilated by Christianity were connected with Gospel parables analogous to them.

The Foundations of Islamic Art
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In speaking of his ascent to Heaven (
mi‘raj
) the Prophet describes an immense dome made of white mother-of-pearl and resting on four corner pillars, on which are written the four parts of the Qur’anic formula: ‘‘in the name—of God—the Compassionate—the Merciful,’’ and from which flow four rivers of beatitude, one of water, one of milk, one of honey and one of wine. This parable represents the spiritual model of every building with a dome. Mother-of-pearl or white pearl is the symbol of the Spirit (
al-ruh
), the ‘‘dome’’ of which encloses the whole creation. The universal Sprit, which was created before all other creatures, is also the Divine Throne which comprehends all things (
al-‘arsh al-muhit
).

The symbol of this Throne is invisible space extending beyond the starry sky; from the terrestrial point of view, which is natural to man and affords the most direct symbolism, the stars move in concentric spheres more or less remote from the earth as center, and surrounded by limitless space which in its turn is ‘‘enclosed’’ by the universal Spirit considered as the metaphysical ‘‘situation’’ of all perception or knowledge.

While the dome of a sacred building represents the universal Spirit, the octagonal ‘‘drum’’ that supports it symbolizes the eight angels, ‘‘bearers of the Throne,’’ who in their turn correspond to the eight directions of the ‘‘rose of the winds.’’ The cubical part of the building then represents the cosmos, with the four corner pillars (
arkan
) as its elements, conceived as principles both subtle and corporeal.

The building as a whole expresses equilibrium, the reflection of the Divine Unity in the cosmic order. Nevertheless since Unity is always Itself, whatever the degree at which It is envisaged, the regular shape of the building can also be transposed
in divinis;
the polygonal part of the building will then correspond to the ‘‘facets’’ of the Divine Qualities (
al-sifat
) while the dome recalls undifferentiated Unity.
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A mosque generally comprises a court with a fountain, where the faithful can make their ablutions before accomplishing their prayers. The fountain is often protected by a small cupola shaped like a baldaquin. The court with a fountain in the middle, as well as the enclosed garden watered by four runnels rising in its center, are made in the likeness of Paradise, for the Qur’an speaks of the gardens of Beatitude, where springs of water flow, one or two in each garden, and where celestial virgins dwell. It is in the nature of Paradise (
janna
) to be hidden and secret; it corresponds to the interior world, the innermost soul. This is the world which the Islamic house must imitate, with its inner court surrounded with walls on all four sides or with an enclosed garden furnished with a well or fountain. The house is the
sacratum
(
haram
) of the family, where woman reigns and man is but a guest. Its square shape is in conformity with the Islamic law of marriage, which allows a man to marry up to four wives, on condition that he offers the same advantages to each. The Islamic house is completely closed toward the outer world—family life is withdrawn from the general

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Voices of Art, Beauty, and Science

social life—it is only open above, to the sky, which is reflected beneath in the fountain court.

The spiritual style of Islam is also exemplifi in the art of clothing, and particularly in the masculine costume of purely Islamic countries. The part played by costume has a special importance, because no artistic ideal estab- lished in painting or sculpture can replace or relativize the living presence of man in his primordial dignity. In one sense, the art of clothing is effective and even popular; it is nevertheless indirectly a sacred art, for the masculine costume of Islam is as it were a priestly costume generalized, just as Islam ‘‘generalized’’ the priesthood by abolishing the hierarchy and making every believer a priest. Every Muslim can perform the essential rites of his tradition by himself; anyone, provided that his mental faculties are intact and his life conforms to his religion, may in principle preside as
Imam
over any gathering great or small.

The example of the Mosaic law makes it clear that priestly costume as such is a branch of sacred art in the strictest sense of the word. Its formal language is determined by the dual nature of the human form, which is the most immediate symbol of God and at the same time, because of its egocentricity and subjectivity, the thickest of the veils that hide the Divine Presence. The hieratic garments of Semitic peoples hide the individual and subjectively ‘‘passionate’’ aspect of the human body, and emphasize on the contrary its ‘‘god-like’’ qualities. These qualities are brought out by combining their microcosmic evidences, more or less veiled by the polyvalence of the human form, with their macrocosmic evidences; thus, in the symbolism of the cloth- ing, the ‘‘personal’’ manifestation of God is united with His ‘‘impersonal’’ manifestation, and through the complex and corruptible form of man, the simple and incorruptible beauty of the stars is projected. The golden disk which the High Priest in the Old Testament wore on his breast corresponds to the sun; the precious stones which adorn various parts of his body and are placed so as to correspond to the subtle centers of the
shekhina,
are like stars; his headdress is like the ‘‘horns’’ of the crescent moon: and the fringes of his vestments recall the dew or the rain of Grace.
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Christian liturgical vest- ments perpetuate the same formal language, while relating it to the sacerdotal function of the Christ, who is both offi ant and victim of the sacrifi
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Alongside the priestly vestment with its solar characteristics, there is the monastic garment, which serves only to efface the individual and sensual aspects of the body,
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whereas the costume of the laity, with the exception of the insignia of consecrated kings and the heraldic emblems of nobles,
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originates merely in plain necessity or in worldliness. In this way, Christianity make a distinction between the priest, who participates by virtue of his imper- sonal function in the glory of the Christ, and the profane person, whose whole attire can be but vanity, and who is integrated with the formal style of the tradition only when he assumes the garb of the penitent. It may be noted in this connection that modern masculine attire shows a curious

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inversion of these qualities: its negation of the body, with its natural supple- ness and beauty, becomes the expression of a new individualism, hostile to nature and coupled with an instinctive hatred of all hierarchy.
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The masculine costume of Islam is a synthesis of the sacerdotal and the monastic attire, and at the same time it affi masculine dignity. It is the turban which, according to the saying of the Prophet,
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is the mark of spiritual, and therefore sacerdotal dignity, together with the white color of the clothing, the cloak with board folds and the
haik
enveloping the head and shoulders. Certain articles of clothing appropriate to dwellers in the desert have been generalized and ‘‘stylized’’ for a spiritual purpose. On the other hand, the monastic character of the Islamic costume is affirmed by its simplicity and by the more or less strict prohibition
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of golden ornaments and of silk. Women alone may wear gold and silk, and then it is not in public but only in the interior of the house—which corresponds to the inner world of the soul—that they may display such finery.

Wherever an Islamic civilization is beginning to decay, the turban is the first thing that is banished, and next the wearing of loose and pliable garments that facilitate the movements of the ritual prayer. As for the campaign that is waged in certain Arab countries in favor of the hat, it is aimed directly at the abolition of the rites. For the rim of a hat prevents the forehead from touching the ground in the prostration; the cap with the peak, so peculiarly suggestive of the profane, is no less inimical to the tradition. If the use of machines necessitates the wearing of such clothes, it simply proves that, from the point of view of Islam, reliance on machines draws man away from his existential center, where he ‘‘stands upright before God.’’ This description of Islamic costume would not be complete without some mention of the ‘‘sacred vestment’’ (
ihram
) of the pilgrim, worn on the occa- sion of the great pilgrimage (
al-hajj
) to the interior of the sacred territory that includes Mecca. The pilgrim wears only two pieces of cloth without a seam, tied round the shoulders and the hip, and sandals on his feet. Thus attired he is exposed to the intense heat of the sun, conscious of his poverty

before God.

The noblest of the visual arts in the world of Islam is calligraphy, and it is the writing of the Qur’an that is sacred art
par excellence;
it plays a part more or less analogous to that of the icon in Christian art, for it represents the visible body of the Divine Word.
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In sacred inscriptions the Arabic letters combine fluently with arabesques, especially with plant motifs, which are thus brought into closer relationship with the Asiatic symbolism of the tree of the world; the leaves of this tree cor- respond to the words of the Sacred Book. Arabic calligraphy contains within itself decorative possibilities of inexhaustible richness; its modalities vary between the monumental Kufi script with its rectilinear form and vertical breaks, and the
naskhi
with its line as fluid and as serpentine as it could be. The richness of the Arabic script comes from the fact that it has fully

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Voices of Art, Beauty, and Science

developed its two ‘‘dimensions’’: the vertical, which confers on the letters their hieratic dignity, and the horizontal, which links them together in a con- tinuous flow. As in the symbolism of weaving, the vertical lines, analogous to the ‘‘warp’’ of the fabric, correspond to the permanent essences of things—it is by the vertical that the unalterable character of each letter is affi

whereas the horizontal, analogous to the ‘‘weft,’’ expresses becoming or the matter that links one thing to another. A signifi ance of this kind is particularly evident in Arab calligraphy, where the vertical strokes transcend and regulate the undulating flow of the connecting strokes.

Arabic is written from right to left; this is as much as to say that the writing runs back from the field of action toward the heart. Among all the phonetic scripts of Semitic origin, Arabic writing has the least visual resemblance to Hebrew writing; Hebrew is static like the stone of the Tables of the Law, while at the same time it is full of the latent fire of the Divine Presence, whereas Arabic manifests Unity by the breadth of its rhythm: the broader the rhythm the more its unity becomes evident.

The friezes of inscriptions crowning the inner wall of a hall of prayer, or surmounting the
mihrab,
recall to the believer, as much by their rhythm and their hieratic form as by their meaning, the majestic and forceful current of the Qur’anic language.

This plastic reflection of a Divine incantation traverses the whole of Islamic life; its expressive richness, its upsurge endlessly renewed and its inimitable rhythms compensate the elusive simplicity of its content, which is Unity; it is immutability of idea and inexhaustible fl w of utterance, architectural geometry, and indefinite rhythm of ornament.

The
mihrab
is the niche oriented toward Mecca and is the place where the
imam
who recites the ritual prayer stands in front of the rows of believers who repeat his gestures. The primary function of this niche is acoustic, to reecho the words directed toward it; but at the same time its form is reminis- cent of that of a choir or an apse, the ‘‘holy of holies,’’ the general shape of which it reproduces on a smaller scale. This analogy is confirmed in the field of symbolism by the presence of the lamp hung in front of the niche of prayer.
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The lamp recalls the ‘‘niche of light’’ of which it is said in the Qur’an: ‘‘God is the light of the heavens and of the earth. His light is like a niche in which there is a lamp; the lamp is in a glass, which is like a shining star
...
.’’ (Qur’an 24:35).