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How does one describe the
indescribable? How does one form an image of that which cannot be
portrayed? That is what the hilye does--it gives parameters to
the imagination so that one can think about the Prophet with a mental
or spiritual image to hang onto, yet not attempt to visualize him or
portray him in a painting. But the hilye is not an icon in
words. As impressive and accurate as the many hilye texts are,
they still remain vague, contrary to the claims of literalists, who
would reject these texts as being visual portraits. That, of course,
would not be acceptable to Muslims.
Hilye2
is the Turkish form of the Arabic word hilya, which has
several meanings, including physiognomy, natural disposition,
likeness, depiction, characterization, and description. But these
dictionary definitions only begin to convey the real meaning of the
hilye, which embodies the Prophet’s moral, behavioral,
and spiritual qualities as well as physical appearance. Like most
Arabic words, hilya carries multiple overtones, making it
difficult to translate. It has connotations of ornament, beauty,
finery, and embellishment. I like to think of a hilya as a
beautiful and significant description.
The Hilye in History
Arabic source literature includes hilye
texts describing many important figures. Most prominent of these are
the hilyes of the Prophet Muhammad and of his four
companions--the chahar yar, or four friends, the first four
caliphs and successors of the Prophet, Abu Bakr, Umar, Uthman, and
Ali. Interestingly, we also have hilyes for some of the pre-Quranic
Biblical prophets. In one of the great works on hilyes, Qasas
al-Anbiya, by Tha’labi (d. 1035 AD), we find hilyes for
Moses, Aaron, David, Solomon, John the Baptist, and Jesus. These are
related by the enigmatic figure Ka’b al-Ahbar. A learned Muslim
of Jewish, possibly rabbinic, origin and a specialist in Biblical
lore, K’ab al-Ahbar was a friend and confidant of Umar and the
Prophet’s wife, Aisha.
Oral literature was possibly the
highest calling of the ancient Arabs, and long before the hilye
was used in calligraphy, it was spoken. What first impresses the
reader--or listener--about these texts is their compactness, their
terseness. They say as much as possible in a few well-chosen words,
some of which are profoundly obscure. In my translations of the
texts, for example, I consulted both the commentary of Molla Ali
Al-Qari, a Hanafi religious scholar of the early 17th century AD, and
the Lisan al-Arab, a lexicon that includes many of the words
used in the hilyes. Yet some areas remain ambiguous or open to
interpretation.
The wording of hilyes is
carefully composed, with the care one would expect from a keen
observer of people, one gifted with a finely honed skill in language.
In his narration of the hilye, for example, Hind is mentioned
as a wassaf, or one who describes. One can hypothesize that
Hind had a special gift for this kind of literature, just as some may
have a special gift for poetry. Few writers could match these gems of
conciseness and beauty, composed as they were with wit, poignancy,
intimacy, and rhetorical flourish. These artful descriptions make
vivid impressions on the listener or reader. They are quite memorable
and played an important part in recalling beloved and respected
figures.
Hilyes have some general
features in common. They begin with a succinct description of the
subject’s physical characteristics, including height, build,
complexion, eyes, hair, hands, and gait, then move to the subject’s
individual and moral characteristics. Consider, for example, the
hilye of Soloman (the prophet Sulayman, in Islamic terms), as
told by K’ab al-Ahbar:
Sulayman
was of pale complexion; his body was large, very clean and beautiful.
He was humble and unpretentious and liked to associate with the poor
and would keep company with them. He would say, “The poor must
sit with the poor.” During his father Dawud’s reign, his
father would consult him because of his advanced intellect and
knowledge, which was remarkable considering his young age.
Or take this hilye of Uthman,
the third caliph:
Uthman,
may God be pleased with him, was of medium stature. He wasn’t
short or tall. He had a beautiful face. He was fleshy and had fine
skin. He had a thick beard. His head and beard hair were abundant.
Because of this, his opponents called him Na’sal [after an
Egyptian in Medina with a long beard]. His complexion was swarthy,
and he was big boned. He was the beloved friend of the beloved friend
[Muhammad] of the All-Merciful God. He collected the Quran [and
published it]. He was full of modesty and faith. He died a martyr
while reading the Quran.
Another interesting occurrence of the
word hilye is in the title of the famous biographical work in
Arabic Hilyat al-Awliya, by Abu Nu’aym (d. 1038 AD),
which can be translated as “Description (or Depiction) of the
Saintly People.” This is an excellent source of information
about the early religious figures of Islam and contains much material
from their own lips, including, fascinatingly, Ka’b al-Ahbar
himself in a long entry.
The Hilyes of the Prophet
The most famous hilye texts, of
course, are those that characterize the Prophet Muhammad. In Turkish
they are called Hilye-i Saadet (the Hilye of Felicity),
Hilye-i Serif (the Noble Hilye), and Hilye-i Nebevi
(the Prophetic Hilye). The most popular of these texts for
calligraphers is one related by Ali ibn Abi Talib, which I translate
as follows:
Transmitted from Ali [son-in-law
of the Prophet], may God be pleased with him, who, when asked to
describe the Prophet, peace be upon him, would say: He was not too
tall nor too short. He was medium sized. His hair was not short and
curly, nor was it lank, but in between. His face was not narrow, nor
was it fully round, but there was a roundness to it. His skin was
white. His eyes were black. He had long eyelashes. He was big-boned
and had wide shoulders. He had no body hair except in the middle of
his chest. He had thick hands and feet. When he walked, he walked
inclined, as if descending a slope. When he looked at someone, he
looked at them in full face.
Between his shoulders was the
seal of prophecy, the sign that he was the last of the prophets. He
was the most generous-hearted of men, the most truthful of them in
speech, the most mild-tempered of them, and the noblest of them in
lineage. Whoever saw him unexpectedly was in awe of him. And whoever
associated with him familiarly, loved him. Anyone who would describe
him would say, I never saw, before him or after him, the like of him.
Peace be upon him.
The most comprehensive hilye
text is found in the great work on the Prophet by Al-Qadi Iyad (d.
1149). Here it is, in its fullest version:
Al-Hasan,
son of Ali [May God be pleased with both of them] said: “I
asked my uncle Hind, son of Abu Hala about the hilye [description] of
the Prophet of God, my peace and blessings be upon him. Hind was
known to be a prolific describer of the Prophet, and I wished him to
relate some of it for me so I might hold fast to it.”
So
Hind said: “The Prophet of God, peace be upon him, was of
mighty significance to God, and profoundly honored among the people.
His face radiated light like the moon on its fullest night. He was a
bit taller than the medium stature and a bit shorter than the tall
and skinny. His head was large. His hair was wavy. If his hair
parted, he would leave it parted, if not he would leave it, and it
would not be long enough to pass his earlobes. His complexion was
fair. He had a wide forehead, arched, thick eyebrows with a space
between them. There was a vein between them that would swell and
pulse when he was angry. His nose was aquiline; it had a brightness
about the upper part that led those who were less observant to think
him haughty. He had a thick beard. His eyes were very black and the
whites very white. His cheeks were not prominent, he had a wide
mouth. His teeth were white and there was a space between his front
teeth.
“There
was a fine line of hair on his chest, and it was as if it were an
ivory statue with the purity of silver. His figure was well
proportioned, full bodied and strong. There was no slackness in his
musculature, his chest didn’t protrude over his belly, nor the
reverse. His chest was broad and his shoulders wide and muscular. He
had large limbs. The parts of his body that could be seen while he
was clothed were luminous. His body from the neck to the navel was
joined by hair which flowed down like a line. There was no hair on
his nipples. His forearms, shoulders, and upper chest were hairy. The
bones of his forearms were long. His palms were wide and generous.
His hands and feet were thick. His limbs were long. He had long
sinews. His insteps were high. His feet were smooth without
protuberances and water would run off of them. When he would move
off, he would move with determination. He would step surely and
unhurriedly and not proudly. He walked gently and with dignity, and
he would take wide steps when he wanted to walk quickly. When he
walked, it was as if he were descending from a slope and when he
would look at someone, he would turn to him fully. He would lower his
gaze and look down more often than up. He didn’t stare. He
would lead his companions by walking behind them out of modesty and
would always be the first to greet them.”
At
this point, Al-Hasan said to Hind, “Describe to me the way he
spoke.”
Hind
said, “The Prophet of God, peace and blessings be upon him, was
continually full of concern. He was constantly deep in thought. He
had no rest, and would not speak without a reason. He would be silent
for long periods of time. He would begin conversations, and end them
clearly and distinctly and would speak in a way that combined many
meanings in few words. He spoke with excellence, and there was no
excess in it, nor unnatural brevity. He was gentle by nature and not
coarse, nor was he contemptuous of anyone. He would extol the favors
he received, even when they were few and small. He never found fault
with them. He never criticized the food or drink that was prepared
for him, nor did he overly praise it. No one would stand against his
anger when matters of the Lord’s truth were opposed, until he
had triumphed, but he would never get angry for his own sake, nor
would he ever seek to win such an argument. He would gesture with his
whole palm, to point. When he was astonished, he would make his palm
face upwards. He used his hands frequently as he spoke, and would
strike his left palm with his right thumb. When he would get angry,
he would turn away and avert his gaze, and when he was full of joy he
would lower his eyes. Most of his laughing was as smiling; when he
did laugh, it was not loud, and he would show his teeth a bit like
they were hailstones.”
Al-Hasan
said, “I kept this report to myself, away from [my brother]
Al-Husayn for awhile, then I told it to him, but he had already heard
it and found out even more. He had asked our father [Ali] about the
way the Prophet of God, peace be upon him, was at home, when he went
out in his assemblies, and about his way of living.” Al-Hasan
left nothing of this out.
Al-Husayn
said, “I asked my father [Ali], may God be pleased with him,
about how the Prophet of God, peace be upon him, was at home.”
He
[Ali] said, “He always asked permission to enter his home, from
God, and those within. When at home, he would divide his time into
three parts, one for God, one for his family, and one for himself.
Then he would divide his own portion between himself and the people.
His elite companions would mostly share this time with him, and they
would convey his words to the common people. He would hold nothing
back from them, neither knowledge or worldly things. It was his way
to prefer the people of excellence, according to their merit in
religious matters. Among the people there were those with a need,
those with two needs, and those with many needs. He would work with
them, and he would occupy them and the community in general with that
which would improve their situations. This he would do by asking
about them and their needs, and informing them what they ought to do.
He would say, ‘Let the one who is present among you inform the
one who is absent, and bring to me the need of he who is unable to
tell me himself. Truly, the one who informs a person of authority of
the need of one who is unable to convey it himself, God will make
firm his feet on the day of judgment.’ This was the kind of
topic mentioned in his presence, and he didn’t accept anything
else from anyone [he didn’t like meaningless conversation and
liked to talk about how to help people].”
Ali
then said, in the hadith of Sufyan Ibn Waki: “They would
come as scouts [seeking decisions or knowledge], and they would not
go on their way until they had found what they sought, and then they
would leave as guides and learned people.”
I
said [Husayn to his father Ali], “Tell me about his going out
and how he acted outside.”
Ali
said, “The Prophet of God, peace and blessings upon him, would
hold his tongue except in matters which concerned his companions. He
would encourage affection and concord between them and would say
nothing to alienate one from another. He honored the nobles of every
people who would come to him and make them their leaders. He would be
wary around some people and on his guard against them [especially
nomads], but he would never withhold from anyone his open-faced
friendliness and fine personality. He would ask his companions about
their situations, and he would ask people about what was going on
amongst them. He would approve of that which was good and advocate
it, and he would denounce that which was base and discourage it.
“Everything
he did was in moderation, without excess or contrariness. He was not
thoughtless, out of fear that those who came to him would become
unmindful or weary. He was prepared for every situation in this world
and the next. He didn’t fail to fulfill what was right, and he
didn’t overstep his authority in regards to those near him.
The most meritorious and excellent people to him were those whose
advice was most universal; the most significant of them to him were
those most beneficial to others, and the most helpful in helping
others bear their burdens.”
Then
Al-Husayn said, “Then I asked him [Ali] about his gatherings
and about what he did in them, and he said: “The Prophet of
God, peace be upon him, did not sit down or stand up without
mentioning God, nor did he reserve for himself fixed places among the
people to be seated, and he forbade others also to reserve places for
themselves [especially in mosques and public gatherings]. When he
would go to visit a group, he would sit in the nearest available
spot, and ordered that others follow this practice. He would give
those seated near him his full share of attention in such a way that
no one would think others had been given precedence over him.
Whenever someone he would be sitting with would tell him of his
needs, he would bear with that person until that person left him.
When someone would ask him to solve a problem, he would not turn him
away without solving it for him, if possible, or saying a comforting
word or a prayer for its fulfillment. His cheerfulness and open
personality were felt by all the people, and he became like a father
to them. They came to have the right of mercy and compassion from
him, as they were close, like the relation of parent and child,
distinguished only by virtue and devotion to God. And in another
narrative, they became equals regarding their rights in his eyes.
“Assemblies
with him were gatherings of gentleness, dignified conduct, modesty,
patience, and trust. No voice would be raised, nor would women be
spoken of in a depraved way, nor would peoples’ errors be
mentioned. [This last item comes via different narrations.] They
inclined to each other in affection out of devotion to God, as humble
people. In these gatherings, the old were honored, the young were
treated with gentleness. They would come to the aid of the needy and
would have compassion for the stranger.”
And
then I asked him [Ali] about the Messenger’s conduct among his
close associates and servants.
[Ali]
said: “The Prophet of God, peace be upon him, was unfailingly
cheerful, easy going by nature, and mild mannered. He was neither
crude nor coarse . He was not a clamorous loudmouth, nor a repeater
of obscenities. He was not one to find faults in others, nor did he
overly praise them either. He was unconcerned about what he did not
want, and this did not bother him. He allowed his soul no portion of
three things – hypocrisy, acquisitiveness, and that which did
not concern him. He did not allow himself to engage in three things
regarding people – he would not criticize others, he would not
revile anyone, and he would not seek out others’ faults. He
would speak of nothing unless he hoped a reward from God for it. When
he would talk, the ones sitting with him would be so still and quiet,
you would imagine birds were sitting on their heads. When he was
silent, they would talk, but not quarrel in his presence. When one of
them would talk, they would all listen attentively until he had
finished. They would speak about a subject that was brought up by the
first to speak until they had finished with it. He would laugh at
what they laughed at, and he would be amazed by what amazed them. He
was patient with the stranger who had roughness in his speech. He
would say, ‘Whenever you see someone seeking to solve a
problem, help him out.’ He did not seek praise, except to be
spoken of appropriately. He wouldn’t interrupt another’s
speech unless it got excessive or too long, then he would end it or
get up to leave.”
Here
ends the hadith of Sufyan IbnWaki. Through other narrators,
Al-Hasan continues in the words of his brother Al-Husayn. I said [to
Ali], “What was the silence of the Prophet of God [peace upon
him] like?”
He
said, “His silences were for four situations: forbearance,
caution, estimation, and contemplation. As for his estimation, it was
to take an impartial study of events and listen to the people in
order to be just. As for his contemplation, it was about what was
eternal and what was transitory. His forbearance was part of his
patience, he was not angered by that which was provocative. His
caution was for four reasons – taking good speech or action
into consideration so he might use it in an exemplary way; abjuring
the ugly and bad so it would be left alone; exerting his judgment to
improve the situation of his community; [and] establishing ways to
maintain the good order of his community in regard to this world and
the next.”
The
description is finished, with thanks and praise to God for His aid.
From the same work is a shorter, very
intriguing hilye text:
Hilal
related to us, from Ata Bin Yasar. He said: “I met Abdullah ibn
Amr ibn Al-As, and I said, ‘Tell me about the description of
the Prophet of God, peace be upon him.’”
He
said, “Yes, certainly. By God, he was described in the Torah3
in some ways as in the Quran, ‘O Prophet, we have sent you as a
witness, a bringer of good tidings, and a warner’ and as a
protector of the weak. You are my servant and prophet. I have named
you The One Who Relies.
“He
was not crude, nor was he coarse, nor was he one to shout and make a
lot of noise in the marketplace. He did not answer an evil deed with
another, but he would pardon and forgive. He would not be taken by
God until he had straightened out the crooked people, until they
would confess there was no divinity but God, and open blind eyes and
deaf ears and closed hearts. O God, grant mercy and peace to our
master Muhammad and his family.”
Other hilye texts exist, such as
those related by Umm Ma’bad and Abu Hurayra. Both of these have
been calligraphed by Ottoman artists in the 19th century. In 1897,
the Ottoman calligrapher Bakkal Arif Efendi, a refugee from Bulgaria,
was commissioned by the Ottoman Printing House to write a large hilye
in Turkish. Its text was composed by the Ottoman statesman, poet, and
author Jevdet Mehmet Pasha. Displaying a hilye in the home,
workplace, or mosque was believed to provide a blessed environment,
but a hand-made levha, or panel of calligraphy, was expensive.
A beautifully printed version made the hilye accessible to
people of lesser means.
The Hilye in Calligraphic Art
The first hilyes to be produced
as an art form were, as far as we can tell, by the great Ottoman
calligrapher Hafiz Osman Efendi (the Second Sheikh, 1644-98 AD). He
took the hilye text from Iman Tirmidhi’s Ash-Shama’il
al-Muhammadiya and composed it in the configuration we now
associate with the hilye. At the top is the Besmele--that
is, the text “In the name of God, the compassionate, the
merciful,” often prefixed by the words “It is from
Suleyman, and it is …” In the center, generally within a
crescent shape, is the main text, surrounded by the names of the
Prophet’s four main companions, the first four successors.
Under this is a Quranic ayat, or verse, usually, “We did
not send you [Muhammad] except as a mercy to the universe,” or
occasionally, “Truly, you are of a tremendous nature.”
The remainder of the text follows, ending in supplications to the
Prophet, plus the calligrapher’s signature and date. Very
rarely, the whole work is finished with a hadith qudsi (that
is, a holy saying direct from God): “Were it not for you, were
it not for you, I would not have created the starry heavens.” 4
In the art of calligraphy, this form
has been very significant, most often written in Sulus and Nesih
scripts, both small and large versions. The work is also done in
Nestalik script; the first to do so was Mehmed Es’ad Yesari
Efendi (d. 1789 AD).
Largely ignored outside of Ottoman
Turkey, the hilye was a beloved and honored work there. It is
still an important part of the calligrapher’s repertoire. It is
common for calligraphy students to compose a hilye when they
are ready to receive the icazet, or diploma. My case was
typical. In 1988, my teacher, Hasan Celebi, informed me that I was
ready to receive the icazet and told me to write the text but
not to sign it. When I finished the text and sent it to him, he wrote
the icazet text under it. He then took the piece to another
calligrapher, Sheikh Mustafa Bekir, who, after examining it, wrote to
the left of the icazet text the taskik--confirmation of
the icazet. The piece was then illuminated by Hasan Celebi’s
son, Mustafa, one of the most prominent illuminators in Turkey.
Finally, it was presented to me at a ceremony at the headquarters of
the Research Centre for Islamic History, Art, and Culture in
Istanbul.
There is nothing in the art of Islamic
calligraphy quite like illuminating a hilye. It is a
challenging and daunting undertaking, due to the composition’s
complex structure and layout. It requires careful planning to bring
balance and harmony to the work as a whole and to avoid creating
focal spots, which are not appropriate in classical Islamic
calligraphy.
Attempts have been made to produce
hilyes in other forms and layouts. Sometimes, for example, the
hilye is executed in a small, folding, portable format, or
album, as was done by Mehmed Shevki Efendi (1827-87 AD). In addition,
Kadiasker Mustafa Izzet (d. 1876 AD) and Hasan Riza Efendi (d. 1920
AD) produced magnificent large-format hilyes, some over four
feet in height. Other departures from the traditional format,
however, were garish or kitschy in design and have become historical
curiosities of little merit.
The Significance of the Hilye
In the Hind hilye, Al-Hasan,
grandson of the Prophet, said, “I asked my uncle Hind, son of
Abu Hala, about the Hilye of the Prophet of God so I might hold fast
to it.” I believe this is a clue to the hilye concept.
Most Muslims and historians of Islam know about the Prophet and his
life, which is an open book. He is a daily presence and memory,
showing us through his life and teachings the way to the well-lived
life and thus the way to God. Muslims love Muhammad and commend him
for always doing the right thing, even at his own expense. They
appreciate his directness and clarity, his courtliness and manliness,
his warmth and bravery. They sympathize with his terrors during the
first revelations of the Quran and empathize with the huge burden he
had to bear. But they do not and cannot adore him. Adoration is
reserved for the Creator alone.
An interesting but questionable hadith,
which was thought to be genuine until recently, may shed some light
on the significance of the hilye. The Prophet said, “He
who sees my hilye after me, it is as if he had actually seen
me, and he who sees it out of love and desire for me, God will forbid
the fire of Hell to touch him. He will be safe from the trials of the
grave, and he will not be sent forth naked on the day of
resurrection.” This hadith, whatever its status, refers,
of course, not to the calligraphic composition of the hilye
but to the physical, moral, and spiritual description of the Prophet.
Reading, or even simply viewing, a
well-produced hilye can refresh the heart and mind. It gives
us, so many generations later, a kind of intimacy with the Prophet,
as though we had known him. To see him in this way is to allow him to
show the way.
In an authentic hadith, the
Prophet said, “He who has seen me in a dream, has seen the
truth.” His presence must have been so striking that people saw
right through him to the prophetical truth he taught. After his
death, people wanted to remember him, and these hilye texts
must have been very helpful in retaining a “memory vignette”
his companions could pass to future generations.
Since the death of the Prophet, a
substantial literature has developed devoted to the things he said
and did (hadith) and, later, to his life and times and the
circumstances of his prophecy (sira). The hilyes fit
into this framework as they answer the questions, “What was he
like? What kind of human being was he?”
Hollywood has done prophets a
considerable injustice. They are depicted on screen as ranting,
ill-clad madmen, flaky revolutionaries, or effete wise men. The
hilyes offer a better picture of a prophet--of the one who
claimed to be the last prophet. Images fixed in the imagination by
countless Biblical epics, while often entertaining, do not prepare
the mind for the depiction of an actual prophet that we find in the
hilye texts--nor does the image (or non-image) portrayed in
the movie “The Message,” which characterizes Muhammad as
a 1960s-style social revolutionary.
In the hilyes we find a man who
was not physically remarkable, yet attractive to all who saw him--a
man who stood out among his peers. He was a man of humility but not
humble; a man who was complex yet straightforward. He made time for
his family, his friends, and his social responsibilities but left
private time for himself and God. He loved the company of women, and
he liked a good joke, but he didn’t laugh too much, nor was he
quick to anger. He was neither a braggart nor a ranter. He said what
he meant and said it eloquently, and there wasn’t an inch of
hypocrisy in him. He was the Prophet of God, the model for mankind,
yet he did not boast of it. He made it abundantly clear that high
ideals never justified bad behavior. He had to deal with the social
and theological implications of an idolatry far more terrible in its
lumpen banality, its home-made weirdness, than the fire-belching
Baals and Molochs of DeMille, and all in 21 years.
Muhammad was such a guide to spiritual
truth that his wife Aisha said of him, “His personality was the
Quran.”
It is not part of the truth to be Arab
or Afghan, Persian, Turk, or American. Religion is to seek the truth
and try to live by it. Muslims believe that Muhammad ushered in the
adulthood of humanity: Islam would be enough. It is the privilege of
the calligrapher to honor this man through art. Returning over and
over to these hilyes, these eyewitness accounts, one can savor
the wonder of the Prophet and the awesome mystery of the Creator.
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