Akbar Ganji: In previous articles (“Soroush – Interpreting the Words of God or Interpreting Muhammad’s Dreams,” “The Superiority of Polytheists in Soroush’s ‘Muhammad’s Dreams’ Hypothesis,” “Soroush’s Quran: ‘Muhammad’s Disheveled Dream Journal,’” and “Soroush: The Quran’s ‘Jihadi/Slavery Book of Fear’ and the Masnavi’s ‘Non-Jihadi Book of Love’”), I explained that Soroush is trying to lay the groundwork for a great leap with three important steps.

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Those three steps are as follows:

■ First Step– By proposing the “Prophetic Dreams” hypothesis, Soroush seeks to define the threshold of revelation in such a way that the revelatory experience does not remain limited to the capacity of a rare few chosen human beings. In this step, he tries to transform or reduce “revelation” in the tradition of monotheistic religions from “the word of a personal, anthropomorphic God and His linguistic relationship with man” to the phenomenon of “dreaming.” To this end, he attempts to offer an alternative picture of the most important theological assumptions of monotheistic religions (especially Islam). According to his view:

(1) The image of God in the Quran and Muhammad’s theology was incorrect and vulgar, and it must be replaced with the image of a non-anthropomorphic, impersonal God or an absolute without form;

(2) Revelation in this context is precisely “dreaming,” meaning that Muhammad would fall asleep due to epileptic-like attacks, and in his sleep, one part of his own personality would enter into an auditory-visual relationship with another part of his personality. And revelation was nothing independent of these inner, psychological states of Muhammad;

(3) Muhammad’s interpretation of his dreams was incorrect; for example, he mistakenly believed he was being addressed by a personal, anthropomorphic God, and therefore, he cannot be considered infallible or immune from error in the position of conveying revelation;

(4) The product of Muhammad’s dreams, i.e., the Quran, is a “disheveled” text, “full of contradictions,” and “in conflict with empirical sciences and modern philosophies”;

(5) And therefore, this dream journal, i.e., the Quran, must be interpreted by “psychoanalysts” and “anthropologists”; in other words, the path of “exegesis” of Quranic verses is closed.

Soroush considers these claims to be the “phenomenology of the structure of Quranic revelation” and the “best explanation” of that phenomenon.

■ Second Step– By proposing the “Expansion of Prophetic Experience” hypothesis, Soroush tries to negate the intra-religious claim of the finality of prophethood and establish the idea of the continuation of revelation’s descent after Muhammad and to individuals other than him. The gist of his argument is that the door of revelation remains open after Muhammad, and other people after him have been the receptacle for the descent of revelation, adding their revelatory findings to Muhammad’s religion, and there is no reason to suppose that this event cannot continue into our own time.

■ Third Step– Soroush claims prophethood for Rumi, and considers Rumi’s Masnavi to be revelation and the equal of the Quran. In other words, he claims that the experience of revelation did not end with Muhammad but was renewed in the being of Rumi, and Rumi, as a new prophet with his revealed word, i.e., the Masnavi, founded a “new” religion to compensate for the deficiencies of Muhammad’s religion. The Quran of Muhammad ibn Abdullah is a “Jihadi and Slavery Book of Fear,” but the Masnavi of Jalal al-Din Muhammad is a “Non-Jihadi Book of Love and Freedom.” And in this way, Rumi became the founder of a religion that is superior to Muhammad’s religion in numerous respects. And in the midst of this, Soroush explicitly declares, “I have taken my own religion from the mystics.” (“Eloquent Saadi – Session 3,” minute 104). But of course, Soroush adds that Rumi’s religion is not without its own deficiencies, as if a new prophet must arrive to compensate for the deficiencies of Rumi’s religion of love. It is as if the world is awaiting the emergence of a new prophet who, inspired by his prophetic dreams, will take us one step further.

But for what great leap are these three important steps being taken? In this writing, I will answer this question. The summary of my claim in this writing is explicit and simple: Abdolkarim Soroush seeks to invent a new religion compatible with modernity and the new world. He considers himself the prophet of this new religion and fully believes in the success of the religion he constructs based on his dreams.

Until the mid-2000s, Soroush was pursuing the creation of a sect, but he gradually inclined toward inventing a new religion. Of course, a precise date cannot be determined for his transition from the sect-building phase to the phase of inventing and founding a new religion. At certain junctures, while cultivating the first project, he also takes theoretical steps to lay the groundwork for the second project. In this article, I will attempt to explain these two intellectual phases of Soroush (i.e., the “sect-building” phase and the “inventing a new religion” phase) by citing documentary evidence.

Part One: Soroush and the Construction of a New Sect

In his talks and writings, Soroush does not offer a clear and precise definition of “sect.” However, he uses this concept in various contexts. Therefore, we can probably grasp his meaning and intent regarding this term by observing its usage in Soroush’s writings and speeches. For instance, Soroush frequently refers, on various occasions, to the Ismaili sect, the Zaydi sect, the Malamatiyya sect, the Mevlevi sect, and the like. Thus, it seems that from Soroush’s perspective, the “term sect” does not necessarily carry a negative connotation. On the contrary, as we shall see, in Soroush’s view, the emergence of sects is a natural requisite of the historical development of religions. In his belief, a sect possesses a particular understanding of religion, and is generally born in reaction to another sect. The founder or adherents of a sect strive to draw evaluative boundaries between themselves and other sects, to cultivate special rites and rituals for themselves, to assume responsibility for the intellectual and religious guidance of their followers, and for this purpose, among other things, they often endeavor to construct a charismatic leadership for themselves.

In this part of the article, I will demonstrate that if, according to Soroush’s opinion, we have more or less such an understanding of “sect,” then we can clearly see that Soroush himself was seeking to build a new sect.

A. Soroush and the Emergence of New Religious Sects

Soroush does not consider the emergence of religious sects within various religions to be the product of conspiracy or ill will by any individual or group, but rather regards it as the natural exigency of the historical growth of religions. In defense of this claim, he says:

“The Shia, the Kharijites, the Ash‘arites, the Mu‘tazilites, the Umayyads, the Abbasids… are all different political and intellectual faces of a single history… The differences that emerged in Islamic or Christian law among various sects and the abuses that were made of them were necessitated by human free will and the teachings of these laws. By an impossible supposition, if, for example, the past history of Islam were erased and the Book and the Sunnah were placed anew at the disposal of Muslims, without any doubt, different sects would raise their heads once again… If the Book and the Sunnah are what they have been, and if human beings are what they are, then expecting a history essentially different from the past history would also be a futile expectation” (Abdolkarim Soroush, “Doctrine and Test. The Historical Entanglement of a School” (1992), More Majestic than Ideology, pp. 194-195).

And also:

“Was it not a requisite of the historical development of this school that various sects should emerge within it, and was not the emergence of Shia and Sunni the product and exigency of that historical development? A school that emerged in conflict and exchange continues and develops through exchange and conflict, adding to the richness of its experiences, and what could be more natural than this? Was it not natural that, in the absence of the Prophet and in the vacuum of his personality, those same exchanges, confrontations, and new questions would continue and cause doctrinal and political fanaticism among Muslims?” (Soroush, article “The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience,” The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 26). Elsewhere, regarding the “Malamatiyya sect,” he says: “The emergence of the Malamatiyya sect was a reaction against the hypocrisy of the Sufis” (Soroush, article “Muslimness and Prosperity – Infidelity and Underdevelopment,” More Majestic than Ideology, p. 308).

And elsewhere, he explicitly describes the emergence of various sects in Islam and Christianity as a natural phenomenon: “Under these [Christianity and Islam] dozens of sects emerged, and this was natural” (“Islam in History,” December 2015, from minute 68 onward). In a debate on religious pluralism, he also defends “the diversity of sects and denominations,” and criticizes the claim of followers of religious sects who assert that “only our group is rightly guided, and all the people of the world are astray.” Justifying the emergence of religious sects within the great religions, Soroush says:

“When the religion of Islam became historical, sects were formed, and the Ash‘arites, Mu‘tazilites, Sunnis, Shi‘ites, Malikis, Hanbalis, and so on came into being. And thus Muslims became not 72 sects but 72,000 sects. Therefore, it is always necessary and essential to look to the source of the religion. You may ask, if the matter is this clear, why do the wise of the world not acknowledge it and resolve the differences? It is because man is not only reason; he has various moral and human dimensions that cause, as Hafez says, the war of the seventy-two nations to turn into 72,000 fables due to not seeing the truth. And people pursue myth-making instead of the truth… The branching of Islam into Sunni and Shi‘ite is also due to human beings. The differences between Orthodox, Catholic, and Protestant also have nothing to do with Jesus Christ. This religion has been transformed into sects and different groups by passing through the interior of man. And these differences are natural in all religions and schools of thought. You will find nothing pure in this world. Truth is always mixed with falsehood. These differences are a characteristic of this world, and God is not upset or angry about this matter.”

Therefore, whatever the precise, scholarly meaning of “sect” may be, it is clear that

• First—from Soroush’s perspective, the concept and reality of “sect” and “sect-making” carry absolutely no negative connotation;
• Second—Soroush considers the emergence of sects to be a requirement of the historical development of religions;
• And third—in recent years, he has consistently defended, in some way, this kind of religious identity-building, and has attached special importance to it.

B. Constructing the Sect of Religious Intellectualism

In the last quarter-century, Soroush has been engaged in building a religious sect that not only propagates a particular understanding of religion but is also intended to have its own rites and rituals, to take charge of the intellectual and political guidance of its followers, and to establish value-laden boundaries of “us and them” with other sects.

Two important questions arise here:

(1) Why did Soroush consider building a religious sect necessary?

(2) Based on what evidence and indications can Soroush’s sect-building process be confirmed?

The necessity of sect-making from Soroush’s perspective: In answer to the first question, we can look at Soroush’s intellectual and political record from the perspective of an external observer, and on this basis reconstruct his mentality and project with an acceptable approximation: Soroush, as a religious and political intellectual, found himself confronting a religious government that exercised authority and rule in the name of Islam. The rulers of the Islamic Republic are ideologically affiliated with Shi‘ism, as one of the Islamic sects, and their understanding of Islam is based on a jurisprudential narrative of Shi‘i Islam. Therefore, in his struggle against Iran’s religious rulers, Soroush asked himself what could be done to combat this government and its social base? Which strategy is more effective in this struggle?

Some, in response to this question, were advocates of political solutions. Those who favored political solutions themselves followed two competing models. One group thought solely in terms of electoral campaigns, capturing elective institutions, and reforming the government, while another group sought the solution in civil society—that is, they believed that the people must be empowered through civic institutions, a balance of power between the state and civil society must be created, and in this way, the birth of democracy in Iran could be assisted. In the midst of this, some Iranian sociologists (such as Ali Mirsepassi) believed that culture and religious reform played no role in this process, and that the path to democracy passes through institution-building—that is, building democratic institutions.

But Soroush did not agree with this assessment. He found himself confronting a religious government that sought to realize a particular reading of Islam, and had gathered supporters around itself in this endeavor. In other words, he found himself confronting a “religious sect.” For this very reason, it seems that according to Soroush’s analysis, to confront a “religious sect” with a social base, one must construct another “religious sect” that offers a new and alternative reading of religion, finds its own specific social base, and thereby overcomes the rival government and its social base. Thus, the requirement of Soroush’s political project was that “religious intellectualism” would gradually and quietly transform, little by little, into a “religious sect.”

Evidence of Soroush’s Sect-Building: But on the basis of what evidence can the process of Soroush’s “sect-building” be clarified and analyzed? (The second question)

The process of Soroush’s sect-building can be examined on several different levels. I will examine some of the important levels of this process here:

■ De-Othering: Religious identity-building and sect-building is, in fact, a kind of “we-building,” and its prerequisite is that the circle of “we” be purged of outsiders so that the sect may find its distinct identity. This process is, of course, made possible by the capable hands of a “charismatic leader.” The nature of a “sect” is such that not everyone can become a member. Therefore, the “charismatic leader” considers it his duty to identify non-insider groups and distinguish them from the circle of insiders.

He begins the process of de-familiarizing the circle of religious intellectualism first with religious modernist politicians, and particularly with Mohammad Khatami personally. This, of course, does not mean that Soroush did not ascribe a political identity to his intellectual program. On the contrary, he never considered “religious intellectualism” to be a purely theoretical endeavor. In his view, religious intellectualism is one hundred percent possessed of political dimensions. In his interviews, he specifies that he is “currently” not seeking to seize political power: “My current mood and disposition is such that I do not favor the political profession,” and when asked whether he would have such a resolve in the future, he replies: “I don’t know. I do not consider it a forbidden act that I would never commit. In religious language, one day of ruling over Muslims is equivalent to sixty years of worship; why would one turn away from such a meritorious deed?” (Abdolkarim Soroush, The Rite of Kingship and Religiosity, Serat, p. 404).

But he is entirely sensitive to keeping the identity of the religious intellectualism current independent from “non-insider” religious modernist politicians. He specifies that he considers Mohammad Khatami and the reform movement not as founders and originators of religious intellectualism, but as its offspring (Soroush, The Rite of Kingship and Religiosity, vol. 2, pp. 421-423), and prophetically promises that political power in Iran will ultimately fall into the hands of religious intellectuals. In his view, religious intellectuals are the only group that can build a democratic system in Iran; even “non-religious intellectuals” (who, as he specifies, are not truly “intellectuals” either) cannot bring democracy to Iran. He says in this regard:

“Khatami should be counted among the products and outcomes of religious intellectualism, not its founders or innovators… I have said before that the future of this country lies in the hands of religious intellectualism, and the future of intellectualism in this country, and even, I believe, the future of politics in this country, lies in the hands of religious intellectualism. And the secret behind the fact that two factions have, consciously or unconsciously, willingly or unwillingly, joined hands to crush religious intellectualism is its promise for the future, which may have frightened both factions. But I, incidentally, tell both factions that there is no cause for fear, because in religious intellectualism there is no room for dictatorship over others… I believe that everyone should welcome it and not be concerned about its ascendancy or its popularity with the public… Our non-religious intellectuals, due to their unfamiliarity with the tradition of this country, will also be unable to establish a democratic government. In this country, religion is the most substantial component of tradition, and those unfamiliar with this tradition, in my opinion, cannot even claim to be intellectuals, and in any case, in practice, especially in large-scale political action, they will not succeed. Therefore, the door must truly be opened to this kind of thinking” ( “Islamic Revolution; Jurisprudence and Religious Intellectualism“).

Soroush, as the leader of this nascent sect, in the next step strives to exclude other progressive and modernist thinkers and theorists in the realm of Islamic thought and culture from the circle of religious intellectualism. For example, he casts doubt on the faith of Mohammed Arkoun, and on this basis excludes him from the circle of religious intellectualism. He says on this matter:

“For some researchers, Islam is merely a subject of study. One of the prominent examples of this group is Mr. Mohammed Arkoun. In him, almost no element of faith-based belonging apparently remains. He belongs, in terms of identity, to an Islamic society and history, and for this reason is very familiar with this school. His work is also simply to subject Islam to rigorous critique, analysis, and dissection. That is all. This is merely a scholarly affiliation. But religious intellectuals in this society have well demonstrated that both scientifically and practically, politically, and in confronting the powers that be, they have stood by their school and faith and have been and are willing to make sacrifices for it” (Soroush, “The Tradition of Religious Intellectualism”, Madreseh, Bahman 1385, p. 18).

After Arkoun, it is the turn of Ali Shariati and his like-minded thinkers. He excludes them from the circle of religious intellectualism as well:

“Religious intellectualism, by virtue of being knowledge-oriented and experience-oriented, is also not an ideology, meaning it is not a selective, action-oriented, weapon-forging ideology. Ideologies, which think of movement, uprising, struggle, and grappling with the existing enemy, have little affection for truth and possess a narrow battlefield, and with the defeat of the enemy, they themselves break and collapse. And the weapons that, through selective refinement and extraction, have been temporarily forged, lose their relevance and become utterly ineffective. Imam Hussein and his martyrdom, which was an exception in the chain of Imamate, in the selective hands of Shariati becomes the rule, and Avicenna, who was the pride of Iranian culture, is humiliated at the feet of Abu Dharr so that the necessary ideological weapon for crushing the monarchy is provided and revolutionary Islam triumphs over royal secularism. The least flaw of a righteous intention accompanied by an unrighteous method is that it is impermanent” (“What Religious Intellectualism Is Not”).

Soroush also excludes Morteza Motahhari and modernist jurists (such as the associates of Ayatollah Montazeri) from the circle of the religious intellectualism sect:

“Religious intellectualism is also not about patching up jurisprudence with temporary legal stratagems. Today, jurists have acquired the titles of intellectual and innovator who, for instance, by resorting to the occultation of the Hidden Imam, or avoiding the weakening of Islam, try to abolish the rulings of stoning, eye-gouging, and the like. With all due respect to the jurists, whatever this may be, it is neither intellectualism nor innovation, because it is not born of ijtihad in the principles. Religious intellectualism believes in ijtihad in the principles, meaning ijtihad in theology, in ethics, and a new understanding of prophethood, revelation, the afterlife, and God… It is with a fresh understanding of humanity, knowledge, history, and society that one can revise the ruling on the apostate and the heretic; otherwise, leaving everything as it was and merely suspending a juridical ruling temporarily for fear of the reproach of reproachers requires neither effort nor ijtihad. It is a simple, transient expediency. Even the theologian Mutahhari, when he comes to the story of the Finality of Prophethood, imagines that the only challenge the modern world poses to the Seal of the Prophets is a jurisprudential and legal challenge, and therefore he tries to shake the dust of backwardness from the skirts of jurisprudence and, by recalling principles such as ‘no hardship’ and ‘no harm,’ demonstrate the ability of jurisprudence to solve the problems of modern life. As if this point has completely escaped Mutahhari’s capable mind: that jurisprudence has never stood, and does not stand, on its own feet, and alone it has no power to strengthen itself or to defend itself, and if it is not nourished by the science of theology, ethics, etc., it will burn from the fire of thirst. If there must be innovation in jurisprudence, the God of the jurists, the Prophet of the jurists, and so on must also be renewed. And this is precisely what religious intellectualism calls for, and what it does not find even in the mind of a Mu‘tazilite theologian like Mutahhari” (“What Religious Intellectualism Is Not”).

Soroush also excludes Seyyed Hossein Nasr and his fellow Traditionalists from the circle of religious intellectualism. He introduces Seyyed Hossein Nasr (who is himself the head of the “Maryamiyya Order”) as the greatest herald of “Islamic identity” in the present age, and presents him as an anti-modernity figure who considers the West to be entirely corrupt. Soroush believes that from Nasr’s perspective, the spread of modern empirical sciences is the very essence of decline, and he presents Nasr, unlike other Muslim identity-thinkers, as a defender of an Islam devoid of jihad. (“Contemporary Muslim Discourse - Part Three,” minutes 87-97). And in Soroush’s belief, it is clear that someone with this intellectual record cannot be considered part of the religious intellectualism circle.

The process of exclusion does not end here, of course. Mustafa Malekian and his circle of like-minded thinkers also must not be considered among the intimates of the religious intellectualism sect:

“Religious intellectualism, however, also does not believe in or commit to a spirituality free from religion. Rituals have always been the protective shell of meaning, and how much better it is to take these protective rituals from the teachers of illuminative experiences and from the birds of the garden of sanctity, that is, the prophets, who are the most experienced knights of the arena of spiritual wayfaring and the conquerors of the horizons of abstraction” (Soroush, “What Religious Intellectualism Is Not”).

Thus, the question remains: who, then, are the members of this saved sect? The truth is that Soroush tailors the robe of religious intellectualism only to his own stature. In reality, the religious intellectualism sect is ultimately reduced to Soroush himself and his followers. In this path, he considers himself indebted to no thinker, and regards the wares of religious intellectualism as his exclusive product, equivalent to the finest products of religious studies in the world. In one place, responding to one of his critics, he says:

“Does he [that critic] really imagine that all the efforts of religious intellectuals—on the essential and accidental, the minimal and maximal, identity and truth, contraction and expansion, imamate and the seal of prophethood, form and formlessness, the parrot and the bee, religious readings, religious hermeneutics, human rights, and so on—boil down to how to modernize and organize ‘the alms on camels’? What an opiate, what a spell, what discordant speech. What knowledge, what fairness, what an unrecognized, unassayed gem! It is clear that the neighbor’s hen is a goose, and whatever Contraction and Expansion does, it cannot match the stature of Bultmann. Its crime is that it is original and not a son-in-law of the house, which has no honor. Let me just say this: when I was thinking and writing Contraction and Expansion, I had read neither Barth nor Bultmann, neither Gadamer nor Hirsch, neither Arkoun nor Abu Zayd. Even now, when I look at myself and them, I see many differences. There are principles and derivatives in Contraction and Expansion that are not in the works of those great figures… I am neither their translator nor their debtor. I have had my own thoughts and remembrances and have offered my own wares and products.” (“The Merciless Presence of the Axe of Destruction“).

And in praise of his intellectual works, he writes that his religiological theories “are in no way inferior to the religiological theories that exist in the world’s academies” (Abdolkarim Soroush, Siyasat-nameh, Serat, pp. 180–181). And he emphatically claims that “religious intellectualism in our society has, in fairness, become very active, and its products are suitable nourishment for the youth of this land. And this religious intellectualism, I say plainly, is the last station for the youth; if they pass beyond this, neither the vine remains nor the vine’s mark, and both profit and capital will burn together” (Abdolkarim Soroush, The Rite of Kingship and Piety, Serat, p. 271).

Of course, it is not only that Soroush has driven others from the circle of religious intellectualism; many of those others have themselves explicitly disavowed belonging to this sect. Thus, within this sect, only Soroush remains along with a number of his affiliates—affiliates who strive to reinforce and propagate the claims of the sect’s leader, and to fashion him into a charismatic leader and a mythical figure—a leader who is a thinker on a global scale, and, above that, a “saint” among the friends of God and a locus for the descent of revelation.

■ The Mission of Intellectual Guidance: Soroush makes clear that the sect of religious intellectualism has fundamental differences from traditional religion, and successfully takes up many of the tasks left unfulfilled by traditional religion. Among these tasks is the responsibility for the intellectual guidance of the people:

“Religious intellectualism has charted and laid down a path that differs fundamentally from that traditional mode of practice and attitude toward religion. This edifice does not have the capacity for that furniture, that is, those customs and rites; a serious housecleaning has occurred here. The talk is not of turning one’s back on the people or on piety. The point is that when a community takes on the responsibility of intellectual guidance, its practice must be in accordance with its theory” (Abdolkarim Soroush, “The Tradition of Religious Intellectualism,” Madreseh, Bahman 1385, p. 19).

Therefore, a “community” is taking shape that bears the duty of the intellectual guidance of the people, and is to carry out a fundamental housecleaning of traditional religion and take a serious distance from it.

■ A Fundamental Revision of the Theoretical Foundations of Traditional Religion: But what does Soroush mean by this “serious housecleaning”? He explains that this new sect must rewrite all the theoretical pillars of traditional religion anew and in its own particular style and manner: “Religious intellectualism must write and present its own history of piety, imamate, and prophethood. As long as this history has not been demythologized, those customs and those ceremonies will endure and persist according to a mythological understanding, and will distance us from the goal” (ibid., p. 19).

■ A Fundamental Revision of the Practical Principles of Traditional Religion: But this new sect does not merely revise the theoretical principles of traditional religion; in addition, it must also fundamentally revise the practical principles—that is, the collection of customs, rites, and religious rituals—and invent its own appropriate forms of rites and rituals. In other words, not only are the beliefs of this sect different from the beliefs of traditional religion, but its practices and rituals also diverge from the customs and rituals of traditional religion:

“Religious intellectualism must establish its own rites, ceremonies, and rituals, and its distinction from others in these aspects must be striking” (ibid., p. 19).

Beyond that, this sect must fundamentally distance itself from the jurisprudential and legal current of the Islamic tradition, and build its own independent and specific jurists, legal scholars, and jurisprudential and legal system:

“They [the adherents of the religious intellectualism sect] must have their own jurist and their own jurisprudential theories. It seems that the preliminaries and foundations for this matter are also in place. Religious intellectuals must gradually sever their ties of affiliation with the traditional clergy…The affirmative task, that is, having a ‘new theology’ and a ‘new jurisprudence’ and writing a new history of Islam” (ibid., p. 20).

Creating a Society and Tradition of Its Own: The religious intellectualism sect must cultivate its own adherents in all domains. That is, it must gradually transform from a scattered and incoherent current into a coherent entity with its own specific institutions and agents: “Religious intellectualism has not yet become a tradition, and it must become a tradition. This movement must have its own poets, writers, artists, and filmmakers. Religious intellectualism is a towering tree, not a small shrub. It has the right and it is fitting that it be irrigated by a stream of poetry…Religious intellectuals also have the right to have their own poets and artists…Religious intellectualism must not remain confined to theological and political discussions. Its reach must be extended into literature and art” (ibid., p. 20).

Soroush finally promises his followers that: “In short, it is through these efforts and struggles that the blessed shadow of religious intellectualism will spread over our society and, sea-like, bestow gems upon those near and rain upon the age.” (ibid., p. 20).

Part Two: Soroush and the Founding of a New Religion

At the sect-building stage, the impartial observer might well suppose that Soroush is engaged in constructing a “religious sect” within the Islamic tradition, and that, as he himself states, the emergence of this sect is a natural exigency of the historical development of the religion of Islam.

However, much evidence and many indications show that Soroush has moved beyond the sect-building stage and in recent years has been more concerned with inventing or founding a new religion. As we shall see, Soroush believes that in our time an urgent need for the emergence of a new religion is felt. And this new religion must inevitably take shape around religious experiences, and in the next stage, to preserve those religious experiences, a layer of beliefs, ethics, and practical jurisprudence and customs must be woven around those experiences. As we shall see, Soroush attempts to make his own “prophetic dreams” the basis for founding this new religion, and to cultivate his doctrinal views around these revelatory experiences (that is, his prophetic dreams), and to preserve the central core of these experiences by establishing certain political, social, and cultural institutions and inventing a set of ethics and religious customs and rituals. He promises that this new identity (the most precise description of which is “religion”) will gain superiority and ascendancy over rival identities.

Here I wish to briefly explain the main elements of this new religion:

First – Why is a new religion needed? We must first see why Soroush believes we need the emergence of a new religion. In his critique of the Quran, or what he calls Muhammad’s “Jihadi Book of Fear based on the idea of slavery,” Soroush argues at length that Muhammad’s book is in serious conflict with modernity and the achievements of modern philosophy and empirical sciences, and its content is unacceptable to contemporary humans. In contrast, he points to Rumi’s “Non-Jihadi Book of Love based on freedom,” namely the Masnavi, which has successfully resolved many of the Quran’s flaws and shortcomings. But he immediately adds that Rumi’s mysticism was also compatible with the metaphysics and cosmology of the ancients. He therefore explicitly adds that today we need a mysticism compatible with the exigencies and beliefs of the modern world. For example, in criticizing “Rumi’s religion,” he points to the doctrine of resurrection among mystics, according to which life after death occurs within this same material world. That is, the eschatology of past mystics was compatible with their cosmology. In Rumi’s view, too, there is a soul that, after death, is transferred to the cosmos, meaning this same material world. (“Twelfth Session on Rumi’s Theology,” minutes 80-86). Furthermore, in criticizing Rumi’s religion (and indeed all of Sufism), Soroush emphasizes that this type of mysticism is fatalistic, anti-identity, and anti-philosophy, and claims that philosophy and the knowledge-oriented religiosity of humans distance them from God or fundamentally lead them astray. Soroush believes that Rumi’s religion correctly views theology as properly falling into the valley of perplexity, but consequently claims that “causality,” i.e., discovering causal relationships in nature, dispels perplexity and distances humans from God, meaning the requirement of Rumi’s religion is the encouragement of ignorance. From Soroush’s perspective, all of these are among the harmful and indefensible consequences and results of Rumi’s religion.

Therefore, just as Rumi’s religion arrived and compensated for the shortcomings of Muhammad’s religion, another new religion must also arrive and compensate for the shortcomings of Rumi’s religion.

Second – The mechanism of inventing or establishing a new religion: In his talks and writings, Soroush explains the mechanism by which, in his view, religion is made. According to Soroush’s theory of religion-making, an individual first has a religious experience, then, to disseminate and preserve this experience, gives those experiences a doctrinal form, and finally spins a moral and jurisprudential system around it:

“The Prophet initially found a gem in his experiences (a feeling of awe, love, dread, humility, and obedience toward a supreme origin, and wonder at His beauty and majesty, and the unveiling of the secrets of the universe and the purpose of human life…) and then, zealously and prudently, wove a shell of jurisprudence and ethics around this gem to both protect it from the unworthy and show the worthy the path to reach it” (The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, Serat, p. 178).

Therefore, in Soroush’s view, the truth of religion is precisely the experience and unveiling that a prophet has. And of course, these experiences are not limited to the person of the prophet. The true followers of Muhammad can and must also repeat those same experiences: “Through spiritual closeness and connection to him [Muhammad], one can now repeat his experience, share in his tastes and ecstasies, and enter the inner world he stepped into, with his grace, aid, and guidance” (ibid., p. 172). He said these words in the year 1377 (Solar Hijri). But now, in light of his claims regarding revelation being a dream and the Masnavi being revelation, one can better understand the depth of his words: Muhammad’s revelatory experiences were nothing but Muhammad’s dreams (and here “dream” is used in its conventional, contemporary sense), and Rumi’s revelatory experience, his prophetic stature, and the superiority of his revelatory Book of Love over Muhammad’s revelatory Book of Fear show that today, too, individuals can see prophetic dreams and, like Rumi, lay the foundation for a new religion.

Third—Soroush's Prophetic Dreams: Soroush's religion requires “prophetic dreams.” He must, of necessity, lay the cornerstone of his religion upon his own prophetic dreams, that is, dreams of the same kind as Muhammad's dreams. Of course, unlike Muhammad, who mistakenly considered his dreams to be the word of a personal, anthropomorphic, and sovereign God, Soroush possesses a more precise and accurate understanding of the nature of his own prophetic dreams. That is, he not only has prophetic dreams, but he also understands and interprets those dreams better and more accurately than Muhammad did. He claims to have actually been the recipient of revelation and to have seen the formless God. Announcing these experiences is a necessary condition for the invention of his new religion. It is for this reason that, in recent years, he has repeatedly shared these “secrets” with his audiences during his public lectures. Here, I will refer to some of these revelatory experiences or dreams of Soroush that he has presented in public forums:

■ First Experience: Soroush explicitly and clearly says that he has been the addressee of revelation. He says somewhere that the Prophet of Islam must take an individual by the hand so that the individual can share in the Prophet's experiences. He recounts to his audience that the Prophet came to him in a dream, and on this occasion, he composed a poem in praise of the Prophet. On his official Facebook page (December 10, 2015), explaining this poem, he says: “An expression of dust-kissing devotion to the heavenly presence of the Holy Prophet, who came one night in a dream to inquire about this poor soul. […]”. Of course, if we take Soroush's theory about dreams as a basis, then (according to Soroush's belief) no entity (whether human or spirit) enters our dream from outside; rather, the individual himself creates his dreams, and one part of his personality speaks to another part of his personality, and one level of his personality creates imagery for another level of his personality. Therefore, according to the dream theory accepted by Soroush, the Prophet of Islam did not come to Soroush in a dream, as such a thing is fundamentally impossible from Soroush's perspective. Rather, Soroush himself created imagery for himself in the dream and appeared to himself in the form of Muhammad. On the other hand, according to Soroush's claim, dreams must be interpreted by dream interpreters. Therefore, it is by no means certain that the meaning of Soroush's dream is what he claims (i.e., that the “Prophet” came to him in a dream). Perhaps psychoanalysts would have a different interpretation of Soroush's dream; perhaps, from their perspective, the interpretation of Soroush's dream would be that because he (in the depths of his consciousness) had a longing to become a prophet, he saw himself embodied in the form of the Prophet in his dream.

■ The Second Experience: Soroush believes that the Quran is the product of Muhammad's dreams. On the other hand, he claims that individuals who possess unveiling express their unveilings in the language of poetry, because prose lacks the capacity to convey those unveilings and experiences. It is in this context that Soroush claims he has seen his poems in dreams, meaning those poems were spoken to him in a dream and placed upon his mouth: “I am not a poet, but I have occasionally committed a few poems. Sometimes a poem just comes to my mind all at once, I utter it, all at once fluently, all at once 10 couplets, 15 couplets, very easily like that, and there are times I see poetry in my sleep, I saw some of the poems I have in my sleep, they told me, now tomorrow don't go and say so-and-so has claimed prophethood” (“Q&A with Dr. Abdolkarim Soroush; University of Texas”, Minute 107 ). Soroush is well aware that in the context of the “Muhammad's dreams” hypothesis, his claim is nothing other than a claim to revelation and prophethood. Is this why he tries to ward off an anticipated objection? Or perhaps with the jesting sarcasm at the end of his words, he humbly tries to steer his audience's mind toward the possibility that his dreams are revelatory? Of course, there is an obvious inconsistency here that is interesting to note: Soroush has previously explained at length that in sleep, God or anyone else does not speak to a person (essentially, God, according to Soroush's view, is incapable of speaking). But now he himself claims that in his sleep, his poems are “spoken” to him. Therefore, it is unclear whether, from his perspective, this non-anthropomorphic, impersonal, purely formless God is capable of “speaking and showing” or not.

■ The Third Experience: Soroush explicitly tells his audience that he saw the “Prophetic Dreams” hypothesis in a dream, and in a sense, this hypothesis was “revealed” to him: “In fact, this theory of the dream-like nature of revelation was itself a dream for me too. It was itself a revelation for me too. And therefore, it is not much less than the subject and the problem itself” (“Q&A with Dr. Abdolkarim Soroush; University of Texas”, Minute 118 ). On Soroush's official Facebook page too—in response to my first critique—a post appeared in which it was claimed that Soroush, through intuition, has become a partaker of the Prophet's tastes and arrived at this hypothesis through this path, and therefore only those who themselves possess such experiences can critique his claim: “To understand this theory, one must, as Soroush has repeatedly said in describing experientialist religiosity, become a partaker of the Prophet's tastes in order to have a correct understanding of revelation, just as he himself sings in the ecstasy of beholding Him:

You took me as a friend, why should I lament my fortune?

You spread my wings, why should I not boast upon the Throne?

O night, brightened by the spiritual vision of Your dream

Look upon our dark days and bring daylight through the aperture…

How can and how does one who has not tasted such a savor and has not partaken of its sweetness, with a wooden leg, not a firm foundation, and through baseless reasoning (incomplete at that, without even full theoretical command, let alone practical experience!), judge the tasted honey and received intuition of another and reject his experiential savor? Soroush's argumentative, philosophical, and rational views possess the same strength and solidity as his experiential savors in describing the union with the Truth and the prophethood of the Prophet“.

Thus, Soroush in effect suggests to his audience that just as Muhammad saw dreams and those dreams became the Quran, Soroush too sees dreams, shares in those revelatory experiences, and arrives at his theories and hypotheses through the same channel of revelation. That is, his views on the nature of revelation and Muhammad's dreams must also be regarded as a kind of revealed revelation.

■ The Fourth Experience: Soroush claims that in the year 1376 (1997) he himself "observed" (?) the purely formless God:

"Let me tell you about an incident. I used to do yoga exercises for a while. And well, it was very beneficial. I remember perfectly, I was at our house, we had a basement where my room was, my library was there, I would go there during the day, it was solitary and I had seclusion, I would study, do some of these things, once when I had lain on my back, after breathing exercises and so on, and my eyes were closed, suddenly a strange scene appeared to me. And part of this scene was such that I saw a being that had no form, yet things were constantly falling away from it, falling away, falling away, and this being happened. I will only tell you up to this point. I must say that when I opened my eyes, I initially thought it was nothing strange, well, it was like a dream. But later when I thought about it, I saw that no, this must in principle be much more than that. The first thing that came to my mind after this event was this verse of Rumi: 'Form came forth from formlessness / Then returned, for "Indeed, to Him we shall return."' I saw that it was as if there is something from which forms are constantly falling away, constantly, in the shape of two opposing things mounted upon something, they separate from it one by one, and this thing becomes purer and purer, and more transcendent. As if garments are gradually being stripped from its body. And it becomes more naked, more naked. I had read this verse of Rumi many times, and by God, I did not understand its meaning. It was in the wake of that event that I understood this verse very well. I gave 5 lectures following that incident. Under the title 'Form and Formlessness'... When I was still very warm from that experience, I understood well what I was saying, I delivered those discussions on 'Form and Formlessness'." ("Worship of the Formless God", Minutes 35-38 ).

The direct experience of the "absolutely formless God" who is generating contradictory forms seems, of course, a strange experience. Did Soroush not teach his audience in his philosophical discussions that one must de-anthropomorphize, de-naturalize, and de-personalize God in order to reach the purely formless God? If so, how could something that is nothing, and to which (in Soroush's own terms) even the anthropomorphic concept of "existence" cannot be applied, have assumed the form of images and appeared to him?

■ The Fifth Experience: Soroush explicitly states that he has experienced God in the same way that Rumi experienced God, and has become a sharer in Rumi's tastes, and it is through this path that he has been able to understand Rumi's theology:

“The truth is that discovering what kind of God Rumi's God was is not so easy. Personally, after years of familiarity with Rumi, years of teaching, and delving into his words, and reading many commentaries on Rumi's Masnavi and his ghazals, after the occurrence of certain phenomena upon me, I was able to some extent to become acquainted with Rumi's God and the understanding he had of the supernatural world, and, in the language of the mystics themselves, the theophany that God manifested to Rumi, how He showed Himself to him, and how Rumi saw Him from this side and then enshrined it in his poems” (“Eleventh Session on Rumi's Theology“, minutes 3-4).

The truth is that many prominent Rumi scholars (such as Nicholson, Foruzanfar, Zarrinkoub, etc.) believe that Rumi absolutely did not adhere to the Unity of Being (wahdat al-wujud); rather, his theology should be considered of the type of the Unity of Witness (wahdat al-shuhud), not the Unity of Being. In many of Rumi's verses, God is clearly depicted as a personal and anthropomorphic God. Now the question arises: which Rumi's God has Soroush observed: the impersonal, non-anthropomorphic, formless, pure God of the Unity of Being, or the personal, anthropomorphic God concealed in the experience of the Unity of Witness?

■ The Sixth Experience: Soroush quite explicitly rejects the personal, anthropomorphic God of the Quran and, in contrast, defends the impersonal, non-anthropomorphic, absolutely formless God in the tradition of Eastern religions/the Unity of Being. The God accepted by Soroush is absolutely devoid of any attributes that can be experienced and perceived by the external and internal senses of humans. But Soroush, most astonishingly, claims that in his revelatory experiences he has smelled the “scent of God”:

“When I proposed this title [The Scent of God] for the lecture here, I was in a state, I had a special spiritual state belonging to three weeks ago, and I fancied to myself that I was hearing the scent of God. I wished to share it with you as well. But now three weeks have passed since that time. And I am no longer in that state. And I cannot share with you what has passed over me and the experience I personally had, and bring a fresh, moist scent from that garden to your sense of smell. But what I am saying is an analysis and explanation around the scent of God. Without being able to share my direct experience, which has now cooled and is in the past, with you. Years before this, too, I had another experience regarding form and formlessness, which I have recounted in my autobiography. Once, after some practices, I clearly saw that forms were pouring down from formlessness. It was after that that I understood the meaning of Rumi's poem that said: ‘Form came forth from formlessness / Then returned, for “Indeed, to Him we shall return.”’ Until that moment, I did not grasp the meaning of this verse at all. It was after that that I truly found and experienced what that great man was saying, and subsequently I gave several lectures under the title ‘Form and Formlessness,’ which are now available, and in truth, I tried to explain what had been revealed to me in a theological and philosophical manner” (Lecture “The Scent of God“- June 2015- Toronto, minutes 2-4 ).

At minute 78 of the same lecture, one of those present says that three weeks ago you heard and experienced the scent of God, “Was this experience an extension of the prophetic experiences or not? And if you have prepared a skirt, when you reach the rose bush, the gift of the companions [sic], your companions are waiting for a gift.” The companions present in the gathering say “well done,” and Soroush replies: “My gift was what I gave, nothing else remains, it is emptied… [regarding the expansion of prophetic experience], no, I am not in that station and that is not the point at all; after all, everyone has certain states in this world. We have them too. You have them too. I come and speak of them, and you do not. It is said: ‘In the work of rosewater and the rose, the pre-eternal decree was this / That this marketplace witness should be veiled.’ I only wanted to recount the background and history of the matter. And I make no claim to the expansion of prophetic experience” (Minutes 78-80). Then another of the companions recites a long poem in praise of the master and concludes by saying that you will surely take us to paradise. Soroush, in turn, praises his “paradisal poem.”

■ The Seventh Experience: Following the Protestant theologian Schleiermacher, Soroush claims that the foundation of religion is a particular experience possessed by the divine prophets. He then specifies that he himself has also partaken of that foundational prophetic experience:

“Schleiermacher says that the essence of religious experience is a kind of experience of dependence, when you feel that you rely on something, that you subsist through something else, that you have a sustainer, that you are not standing on your own feet, that the ground beneath you is empty, and this is fundamentally and primarily a mystical experience. The general public truly does not think this way, does not reflect in this manner. But, and a thousand buts, according to Schleiermacher and those who agree with him, the emergence—that is, the prophet who brought a religion—originally had this experience. He suddenly understood that if he did not lean on something, he would fall to the ground, would collapse, that he was not standing on his own feet, that the ground beneath him was empty. I am, of course, pleased; I have had this experience, praise be to God. At times, a person truly understands this, that it is as if everything around him is void, illusion, and emptiness, and if something does not take hold of him by its own hand and sustain him, he will fall into the abyss. According to Schleiermacher, who probably himself possessed this experience, this experience exists at least in the Abrahamic religions. It is in the Quran, in the sayings of the great ones, among the mystics; these are abundant, where you see that they report this state, that we outwardly think we are standing on our own feet… He believes that the root of religiosity is here, in such an experience. This experience has caused the rest of the religion to come into being. That is, the truth is that first this experience is obtained, this reliance on another, and that this world has a sustainer, and without that sustainer it is void and non-existent; then, following that, an ethics emerges, that I who have this experience and know what reality is, what conduct should I adopt in relation to that sustainer of existence and in relation to other beings. And following that, a jurisprudence emerges, which is, at minimum, ethics… It is the same in religions. First, a lamp is lit called religious experience and the feeling of reliance on another; around this, several bubbles are arranged, which serve both to protect, so the wind does not extinguish that lamp and its light, and to diffuse the light. Religious ethics carries religious experience with it, generalizes it, expands it, conveys a fragrance of it to the senses. Religious jurisprudence prepares the space so that religious experience becomes possible” (“Religious Conduct in the Modern World – Session Two,” April 28, 2016, minutes 37-43).

Therefore, Soroush himself is the recipient of revelation and the possessor of prophetic experience, and he himself possesses everything necessary to establish a new religion.

■ The Eighth Experience: Soroush is very hopeful about the success of his religion. This hope does not stem solely from rational calculations; more importantly, it is confirmed by dreams that herald the global spread of the “Soroushieh sect.” In one of his public lectures, Soroush’s audience expresses concern about the advance of Islamist terrorist groups like ISIS and the fact that the voices of people like Soroush go unheard in the world, and they ask him to offer them a glimmer of hope. At the end of his lecture, in response to this concern from those present, Soroush recounts a memory of a “dream”:

“Now, let me tell you something that just came to mind. There is a Dr. Adib Soltani, who is a translator of Kant. He is also a very learned man. Years ago, perhaps 15 years ago, he said to me, ‘So-and-so, I had a dream,’ in that dream I saw a dictionary in front of me, and I opened the dictionary to the letter S, and saw it written Soroushieh Sect , and then below it was written that this is a sect and a religion that the majority of Iranians believe in. He was telling me, in short, your words will become world-conquering, will conquer Iran. In any case, do not be too afraid, if we trust these dreams too, perhaps something will remain at the end” (The Method of Interpreting the Prophetic Dream, December 2014. Part Two, Minutes 106-107 ).

Here, Soroush seems to implicitly address his audience’s subconscious to give a name to his new religion. His religion, unlike Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, does not lack the name of its founder. His salvific religion bears the name of its founder: “ Soroushieh Sect “.

■ The Ninth Experience: In addition to all this, Soroush claims to have also undergone an out-of-body experience:

“Regarding this out-of-body experience, well yes, this has happened, meaning we had individuals, I myself had it, even though we were not scholars, but I had it. Meaning that one imagines they have come out of their body, goes to a height, and looks at themselves from above, almost like a near-death experience and the like. Now, there have also been great figures from whom this has been reported, but not in a way that, for example, they bring news of something, or go somewhere else. For instance, it has been reported of Mir Damad that he had voluntary death, meaning he once had an out-of-body experience, came out of his body; something along these lines, I think, has happened” (“The Method of Interpreting the Prophetic Dream, Second Session“, minute 108).

Soroush, of course, does not explain here whether his out-of-body experience was like Mir Damad’s experience of voluntary death or of another kind.

■ The Tenth Experience: By recounting his prophetic dreams, Soroush encourages his companions to see and recount their own prophetic dreams. That is, some followers of Soroush’s religion also see him in their dreams in the form of a savior-prophet. For example, I will cite two instances of these disciple-like dreams of Soroush’s companions, both of which are recounted under the eleventh session of “Rumi’s Theology”:

First quote:

“Greetings to Mosleh al-Din and the lord of speech and wisdom, the second Saadi, Dr. Soroush. You must be wondering and asking why I chose this title for this great man? The reason is clear, as Rumi said, the sun is the proof of the sun!! But there is a much greater and deeper reason than this historical concept, one that is very personal and rooted in my feeling and perception of the mysteries of his inner world through sleep and dreams, which perhaps one day I may be able to put all these dreams into form and depict them in this world with the help of language and the pen, for it has been two years that I, once or twice a week, sit in conversation with him in dreams, with various temporal and spatial capacities, where these places do not belong to any specific location, but the people are identifiable and recognizable. Although many dreams are reflections of one's waking life. Very well, this concept and interpretation of dreams is very simple and understandable. But this humble servant speaks of and utters a dream and the observation of a form, a character, and a word that is not within my capacity, and the very nature of my speech and observations is completely different from external, waking epistemic concepts, and when I wake up, I am bewildered, crying out, 'O God, these concepts do not fit within the vessel of my thought and feeling; where can I take refuge?' As an example, I recount one of these dreams here, perhaps you might convey it to that great man: Two days ago, while I was listening to the eleventh part of his discourse on seeking God from Rumi's perspective—and I always listen to his words between 5 and 6 in the morning, and halfway through I fall asleep—I suddenly saw Mr. Soroush giving a speech somewhere like the Miqat in Mecca or the plains of Mina and Arafat. Thousands upon thousands of people were listening, without any microphone system. I felt the people, while listening, were slowly murmuring to themselves, 'Labbayk, Labbayk, la sharika laka Labbayk.' They were chanting this very hymn when suddenly, a few meters in front of me and the people, Mr. Mohsen [Mohammad?] Mojtahed Shabestari fell to the ground and had a stroke, and as he was dying, his entire face became covered in blood and his countenance was greatly transformed. I jumped up to help him, but I awoke from the dream out of excitement” (“Eleventh Session on Rumi's Theology” ).

Second quotation:

“With many thanks to the master who guides us in a prophet-like manner, thanks be to God that I saw your face / I suddenly found a path from me to you. My weeping eye was blind from crying / It found light from your enchanting narcissus. I said, where is union and where is salvation? / This 'where' took me to your alley. You cast a search into my heart / So that through searching, my soul flows in your stream.”

These statements show the extent to which Soroush, through the projection of his prophetic dreams, has penetrated the conscious and unconscious mentality of his audience, and how he has gradually implanted the image of a new prophet in their minds.

Among all these experiences, the experience of the impersonal, non-anthropomorphic God or the “form of pure formlessness” (that is, the fourth experience) has played a more important role in Soroush's ideological system. Elsewhere, Soroush recounts a form of this experience again, adding that in his view, Rumi and Buddha were “of the same horizon,” meaning he believes Rumi shared the same tastes as Buddha, and both had a single experience of God (that is, the formless God):

“For instance, this ‘form came forth from formlessness,’ which appears in Rumi’s verses and is among his most important teachings, I suspect may have been taken from Buddhist sources. I once recounted here, I recounted for you, that I myself understood the meaning of this line through yogic exercises. And I think perhaps Rumi did as well. Now, God forbid, I do not compare him to myself, but it is not unlikely that at times, through the path you are on, you gain access to certain meanings and themes; these things exist. In my view, Rumi shared a horizon with figures like the Buddha. That is, they spoke the same language. They shared a horizon. And they were in conversation, their eyes were almost fixed on the same point. The difficulty, one might say, is that one borrowed from the other. In some places, one could say—as our mystics put it—they were ‘partners in spiritual tastes’” (“Commentary on the First Book of the Masnavi – Session Four“, June 5, 2016, minutes 81-83).

This experience is, in fact, Soroush’s point of departure from the theological tradition of Western religions (Islam, Christianity, Judaism) toward the theological tradition of Eastern religions (particularly Buddhism).

Fourth – Soroush’s Religion: Breaking from the Tradition of Western Religions and Joining the Tradition of Eastern Religions: Soroush’s new religion should be seen as his break from the tradition of Abrahamic religions and a continuation of the tradition of Eastern pantheistic religions. For example, the most important pillar of Soroush’s religion is his image of God, which, as we have seen, by his own explicit statement is entirely different from the God of Muhammad in the Quran (or the God of the Torah and the Gospel), and in his belief, it is closer to the God of Buddhism. Of course, in the Upanishads, especially in the early Upanishads, there was also an emphasis on the negative attributes, the qualityless, impersonality, and the quiescence of the essence of Brahman (Walter Terence Stace, Mysticism and Philosophy, translated by Baha’ al-Din Khorramshahi, Soroush, p. 167). For instance, one of the thoroughly apophatic phrases of the Upanishads is: “The Universal Self is soundless, formless, intangible… and tasteless and odorless…” (ibid, p. 169). Gandhi also believed that “God is formless” and added: “The value of Hinduism lies in its belief in the true faith that all manifestations of life (not only human beings, but all sentient beings) are one, that all phenomena of life originate from a single universal source, call it God, or Goddess, or Parameshwara” or “I endorse that kind of belief or philosophy according to which all life in its essence is one, and that human beings, consciously or unconsciously, are striving to realize that unity and oneness” (John Hick, The Fifth Dimension, pp. 330-331).

Of course, among Muslim philosophers, there were also those who, either under the influence of Eastern religions or particularly under the influence of Neoplatonic philosophies, presented an image of “God” that was entirely different from the God of the Quran. Soroush, however, does not consider these philosophies “Islamic” in any way: “Our great philosophers, from al-Kindi onward, and from al-Farabi and coming down further, to Avicenna and coming down further, their philosophy, although it is called Islamic philosophy, is Greek philosophy.” (“Religious Conduct in the Modern World – Session Eight“, August 7, 2016, minutes 26-29). Therefore, if the God of Muslim philosophers is an “impersonal, non-anthropomorphic God” (like the God that, for instance, the so-called ‘Proof of the Sincere’ supposedly proves), as Soroush claims, this God did not emerge from the heart of the Quran; it arrived from Greek philosophy. Muslim philosophers borrowed a new image of God (despite the Quranic image) from Greek philosophy and introduced it into Muslim culture.

Soroush’s image of God is indebted to Eastern religions (Hinduism and Buddhism) and Greek philosophy (particularly Neoplatonic wisdom).

Fifth – Building a Belief System Around Soroush’s Prophetic Dreams:

After Soroush speaks of his prophetic experiences and dreams, it is time to build a new “belief system” around these dreams. But in order to construct the belief system of his own particular religion, Soroush must inevitably free himself from the constraints of two important sources of legitimacy in Islamic theology. These two sources are the Book (the Qur’an) and the Sunnah. But how can Soroush bypass these two important sources of authority in Islam to justify and fortify the doctrinal foundations of his own religion?

■ Transcending the Qur’an: Soroush had previously said that the Qur’an is a mythological formulation that Muhammad cast upon a formless matter (Abdolkarim Soroush, The Ethics of the Gods, Tarh-e No, p. 138). This mythological formulation, of course, belonged to and was appropriate for the cultural context of the Arabian Peninsula in Muhammad’s time. Soroush believes that those rare individuals (like himself) who personally experience the formless matter do not remain text-centered (i.e., bound to the Qur’an) at all. They say: “We are moving out of text-centeredness, that is exactly the case” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 140).

Soroush cites reasons for this transcendence of “text-centeredness,” that is, transcending the Qur’an, including that:

(1) In his belief, his theory of contraction and expansion dictates the evolution of our understanding and the transcendence of past understandings.

(2) “Imaginatively and conceptually, it is difficult to say that one form is superior to another. Because the relationship of that formless with all forms is equal” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 141).

(3) The Qur’an is the product of Muhammad’s incorrect interpretation of his confused dreams, which not only conflicts with empirical sciences and modern philosophies but is also full of contradictions. Throughout history, Muslims mistakenly thought this text should be “interpreted,” but the truth is that Muhammad’s dreams should be interpreted by psychoanalysts and anthropologists.

(4) Soroush believes that traces of the face of the formless God can also be recovered in the more mature verses of the Qur’an (i.e., the Medinan verses). According to Soroush, the verses of the Qur’an were suited to Muhammad’s personality, and as Muhammad’s personality grew, the Qur’anic verses also became more mature. Over time, Muhammad became “more of a prophet” and his knowledge “increased.” Soroush considers the “Medinan Muhammad” to be far more mature than the “Meccan Muhammad,” and therefore believes that the Medinan verses are more mature and better than the Meccan verses.

According to Soroush, in the Medinan verses, the image of the “anthropomorphic, personal, punishing, kingly God” of the Meccan Muhammad gives way to an “impersonal, purely formless God.” He specifically refers to verse 35 of Surah An-Nur in this regard, considering it to support his intended image of the impersonal, formless God. He says:

“The Prophet, having passed through the Meccan period and entered the Medinan period, which corresponds to the end of his life—the final years of his life—had naturally become more mature. He had become more of a prophet. And so you can find, among the Medinan verses, the verses revealed to the Prophet after the Hijra, verses at the height of maturity, which show that the Prophet’s prophetic experiences had elevated him and placed him upon a very high point. As an example, I present to you this verse: Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The parable of His Light is as a niche wherein is a lamp… [An-Nur, 35]. This verse is among the Medinan verses. Its appearance seems Meccan, because it belongs to the Quranic teachings, indeed the lofty teachings, but it truly belongs to the Medinan period, after the Prophet’s migration. Well, you see, we have several kinds of God in the Quran. Now, forgive me, let my words not be misinterpreted, we have several descriptions of God: a God who is a Lawgiver, that is, a legislator. A God who is the Owner and Master of all the universe. A God who is the Creator. A God who is like a king, a sovereign. These attributes all belong to God, but a God who is Light—this description of God is revealed to the Prophet in Medina. That is, the Prophet’s knowledge of God deepened, his religious experiences grew stronger, and God manifested Himself to him in new ways. Sometimes in the form of a king, a sovereign, a sultan; sometimes in the form of a lawgiver, a legislator; and sometimes in the form of—that is, ultimately—Light, a luminosity that has pervaded all of existence. This God is no longer the whip-wielding God who wants to punish criminals. He is not a king who wants to rule; He is of an entirely different nature. He is a light that wants to dispel darknesses, a quality that encompasses all beings and penetrates into the heart of the darkest particles to illuminate them. This luminous God, this God of Light, is the product of the Prophet’s final experiences.” (“Jawahir al-Quran,” February 2016, minutes 26-30).

Soroush acknowledges that there is only this “one verse,” “extraordinary” and “unparalleled” in the Quran on this matter, which corrects our insight about God and says that the entire universe is in God. (“Jawahir al-Quran,” February 2016, minutes 63-67).

In this way, Soroush attempts to show that the abandonment of the anthropomorphic personal God of the Quran is, in fact, consistent with the evolutionary course of the image of God in the Quran. But the truth is that if we consider the chronological order of the revelation of the Quranic verses to be valid, then the image of the anthropomorphic, punishing personal God remained dominant in the Quran until the end of Muhammad’s life in Medina. For example, Surah At-Tawbah, which is considered the last surah revealed to Muhammad, is clear evidence against Soroush’s claim; that is, contrary to Soroush’s claim, Muhammad never transitioned from the “anthropomorphic, anthropomorphically analogical, sovereign, punishing, whip-wielding personal God” (in Soroush’s words) to the “impersonal, purely formless God.”

(5) Soroush fundamentally believes that Muhammad had only a few important discoveries in the Quran, and the rest of the text is merely a marginal gloss on those few findings: “If you delve into this very Quran, there are seven, eight, ten great discoveries of the Prophet of Islam. The rest is just an explanation of those” (“Third session of the series of lessons on Iqbal the Poet,” minute 40). In 2008, Soroush apparently considered “Surah al-Hadid” (a Medinan surah) sufficient for Muslims, and for this reason devoted several sessions to interpreting (dream interpretation?) that surah. But in February 2016, about eight years later, he reduced the “ceiling and pillars of being a Muslim” or “Jawahir al-Quran” to 10 verses (Isra 70, Nisa 165, Shams 7 and 8, Najm 39 and 40, An’am 94, Nur 35, Isra 44, Al Imran 92, Ahzab 72, Hud 44, Hadid 3). It is as if Soroush claims that all of Muhammad’s discoveries in the Quran can be found in these few verses alone. Thus, the ceiling and pillars of being a Muslim are summed up in these few verses, and if someone commits to these ten verses and disregards the rest of the marginal verses, they have done nothing wrong.

■ Disregarding the Tradition: To construct the belief system of his new religion, Soroush not only disregards the Quran but also considers reference to the Prophet’s tradition unnecessary and even erroneous. Soroush explicitly declares that, in his belief, all hadiths are fabricated and should be seen as the product of tribal rivalries and conflicts of interest among those tribes. Explaining his view, he says:

“The first biographies written about the Prophet were 150 years after his passing; whatever there was, was transmitted orally, and much of what relates to the Prophet, whether regarding his biography and life matters, or the sayings attributed and ascribed to him, all of this is subject to doubt. I personally, my idea, my philosophy, my methodology is that I consider all narrations false unless proven otherwise” (Second session of the series of lessons on “Iqbal the Poet”, minute 32).

And elsewhere he adds:

“My theory and thesis has always been and remains, and I have expressed this: Regarding the narrations transmitted from the Prophet and the Shia Imams, the principle is that all are false, unless proven otherwise. Whereas our clerics and scholars say the opposite” (“Commentary on the First Book of the Masnavi – Session Four,” June 5, 2016, minute 5).

Therefore, Soroush claims that his guiding principle regarding the Tradition is this: all narrations are fabricated, unless proven otherwise. This view, of course, has its roots in the opinions of some prominent Western Islamicists such as Goldziher and Schacht.

اما حقیقت این است که اصل روش شناختی که سروش به واقع و در عمل به کار می‌گیرد، اصل دیگری است. سروش به کرّات و در مناسبتهای مختلف به راحتی برای تحکیم نظرات خود، بدون هیچ نقد و سنجش تاریخی، به روایات و احادیث استناد می‌کند. تنها شرط او برای استفاده از این احادیث و روایات این است که مضمون آنها مؤید نظریات شخص او باشد. به بیان دیگر، اصل راهنمای سروش در نسبت با سنّت در مقام عمل در واقع این است: تمام روایات باطل و دروغ است، مگر آنکه مؤید نظرات من باشد. برای مثال، همان طور که در مقالات قبلی هم توضیح داده ام، سروش بدون هیچ گونه نقد تاریخی و بدون بررسی وثاقت روایاتی که محمّد را دچار حالات صرع می‌دانند، به آن روایات استناد می‌کند، و حتّی آن روایات را اساس تاریخی فرضیه “خوابهای محمّد” قرار می‌دهد. یا به عنوان مثالی دیگر، سروش روایات مربوط به جزئیات معراج جسمانی پیامبر را هم تا آن جا که مؤید فرضه اوست، مفروض و مقبول تلقی می‌کند. (“محمد راوی رویاهای رسولانه (۵): شبی بر نشست از فلک در گذشت“)- هرچند که خود او اذعان دارد که این داستان احتمالا از ادبیات مربوط به دین زرتشت به فرهنگ مسلمانان وارد شده است:

“تقریباً همه پیامبران معراج داشته‌اند…حتی در زرتشتی گری هم بوده. یک متنی هست که اَردا ویراف‌ نامه که باقی مانده، که یکی از موبدان زرتشتی یک حالت معراجی را برای خودش ذکر کرده که مواردیش خیلی هم شبیه معراج پیامبر است. یعنی همین که زنی را دیدم که از گیسوانش آویخته بودند، چیزهایی از این قبیل، که خیلی هم سؤال انگیز است واقعاً. اینها هست البته، یعنی هست، یعنی یکی دو تا نیست، و در مورد اینها همان تصوری که آدم می‌تواند بکند، مثلاً در مورد زرتشتیان می‌گویند یک چیزی شبیه می‌بود عصاره یک گیاهی بود که تقریباً مستی آور بود. این را می‌خوردند و بعد اون وقت به معراج می‌رفتند. یعنی همین دیگه، یعنی یک حالت ذهنی ویژه‌ای براشون پدید می‌آمد و یک رؤیت‌هایی می‌کردند و باز می‌گشتند. اینها که به یک معنا می‌شود گفت تکرار شونده هم هست. دیگران هم می‌توانند اینها را انجام بدهند. همان که مولانا گفت:”به معراج بر آیید چو از آل رسولید”، شما که از پیروان پیامبرید، ایشون معراج رفت شما هم بروید، اما مثل اون درویش[عبدالقدوس گنگهی] نباشید که اون جا لم بدید و بگید “اگر من بودم والله بر نمی‌گشتم”، باید بالاخره برگشت و دست دیگران را هم گرفت” (“روش تعبیر رویای رسولانه، دسامبر ۲۰۱۴. بخش دوم“، دقیقه ۱۱۲- ۱۰۹).

البته توضیحات قرآن درباره تجربه معراج بسیار مختصر و اشاره وار است: “پاکا کسی که بنده اش را شبی از مسجدالحرام تا مسجدالاقصی که پیرامونش را برکت بخشیده ایم، سیر داد، تا به او نمونه‌هایی از آیات خویش نشان دهیم” (اسرأ، ۱). به بیان دیگر، سروش حتّی روایاتی را هم که خود با اطمینان باطل و دروغ می‌داند، به راحتی به عنوان شاهدی معتبر برای نظریه اش مورد استفاده قرار می‌دهد.

به این مورد هم بنگرید. از او می‌پرسند: آیا پیامبر در خواب خدا را هم دیده است؟ سروش پاسخ می‌دهد:

“Yes, he did see. In fact, we have several narrations. The Prophet says: ‘رأیت ربی فی احسن صوره: I saw my Lord in the most beautiful form.’ Or ‘لی مع الله حالات: I have states with God.’ ‘یُطْعِمُنِیْ وَ یَسْقِیْنِیْ’ He spreads a table for me, gives me food, gives me drink, all of this is in the narrations. ‘Since *abitu ‘inda rabbi* was revealed / *yut‘imu wa yasqi* is a metaphor for soup’ [1, 3746], it is also in Rumi’s poetry. The Prophet himself said some nights God and I sit together, we have a night gathering, ‘abitu ‘inda rabbi’ I spend the night with Him till morning, then Rumi says, ‘Since *abitu ‘inda rabbi* was revealed / *yut‘imu wa yasqi* is a metaphor for soup.’ He says that when the Prophet says He feeds me, gives me drink, these are details of the matter, an allusion to the original meaning, but of course it is neither night, nor day, nor a night gathering, it is none of these. But, but. In the realm of the Prophet’s imagination, or at one level of existence, yes. They keep company with God” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Six“, July 17, 2016, minutes 93-95).

Since these hadiths confirm Soroush’s claims about dreams, they are therefore valid.

Up to this point, I have explained how Soroush frees himself from the constraints of the Quran and the Prophetic tradition so that he can, with a free hand, erect the edifice of his own religion’s belief system. But what can be said about the content of this new belief system? Here, I want to emphasize only a few central concepts of the belief system of Soroush’s religion: the concept of God, the concept of revelation, the concept of prophethood, and the concept of the afterlife.

■ The Concept of God: As I have explained in detail in previous writings, Soroush’s main effort is to replace the “shepherd-like” image of God in the Quran/Muhammad with his own image of God. In place of the personal, anthropomorphic, lordly, slave-breeding, punishing God of the Quran, he installs the impersonal, formless image of God from Eastern religions. (Refer to: Problem One- “The Anthropomorphic Personal God” or “The Purely Formless God”? The article “Soroush – Interpreting the Words of God or the Interpretation of Muhammad’s Dreams” and Seventh- The Impersonal, Non-Anthropomorphic God, the article “Soroush’s Quran: “Muhammad’s Disturbed Dream Journal”“).

■ The Concept of Revelation: I have also explained Soroush’s views on this matter in detail in previous writings. Soroush explicitly considers “revelation” to be of the same nature as a “dream” in its conventional sense, meaning “like the scenes you and I see in our sleep.” He even avoids using the term “unveiling” (*kashf*) regarding the experience of revelation, avoids it, because mystical concepts like unveiling carry a heavy metaphysical burden. But the concept of a dream is very close to reality (“The Scent of God- Q & A“, June 2015 ). In elaborating his theory about Muhammad’s revelatory experience, i.e., the Quran, he says:

“The entire Quran is the Prophet’s dream, in my view… The Prophet truly saw in a dream a human, an angel, a devil, a command, and then refusal and disobedience, obedience—he observed all of these with ease, just like the scenes you and I see in our dreams. Now, of course, his dream is a sacred dream, a refined dream, a pure one, and it conveys truths of the world, just as this very story has depth, exerts the necessary influence, and unveils the reality of our existence… In the Quran, it says that the dream We showed you: ‘وَمَا جَعَلْنَا الرُّءْیَا الَّتِى أَرَیْنَکَ إِلَّا فِتْنَهً لِّلنَّاسِ وَالشَّجَرَهَ الْمَلْعُونَهَ فِى الْقُرْءَانِ’ [Al-Isra, 60] and the accursed tree in the Quran. Many commentators have said that the accursed tree the Prophet saw in his dream refers to the Umayyads who would come later. Recently, I saw one of our contemporary commentators who made a fine point; he said this accursed tree is the same forbidden tree from which Adam was supposed not to eat, and God says We showed you this accursed tree in a dream… This resurrection is also a mental journey; the Prophet saw those scenes, and the story of Adam is likewise a mental journey, meaning truths were depicted for him in this form: there is a scene, a God, a devil, angels, and so on and so forth, precisely. And now we must, through the interpretation and explanation of these dreams and stories, arrive at the truths beyond them” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Six“, July 17, 2016, minutes 90-93).

■ The Concept of Prophethood: According to Soroush’s conception, prophethood also begins with seeing a dream. But of course, in his article “The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience,” he claims that prophethood does not end with the person of Muhammad, and that prophetic revelatory experiences have continued into our own time and up to the person of Soroush himself. However, Soroush attempts to bring about another transformation in the concept of prophethood and the human relationship with God. From Soroush’s perspective, a non-personal, formless God cannot have any meaningful relationship with human beings. His sole attribute is creatorship (but creation itself is an anthropomorphic and naturalistic concept!!!). After that, it seems this God can play no other clear and meaningful role in human life. Therefore, religious life cannot be founded on a relationship with such an unrelatable being. To solve this problem, Soroush first claims that in the belief system of his religion, the Prophet takes the place of God and finds the central and primary role and position in religion. But Muhammad’s centrality was solely due to his prophetic dreams. Thus, the question arises: if another person or persons, like Muhammad, were to have prophetic dreams, could they occupy the same focal position of Muhammad in the structure and sphere of religion? Soroush’s answer is affirmative. In his discourse, he uses the term “wali” (saint/friend of God) instead of prophet, and transfers all the pivotal and essential role that was supposed to be given to Muhammad (in place of God) to the “wali.” Therefore, in Soroush’s religion, it is the “wali” who sits in the place of “God.” In explaining this meaning, he says:

“If you want to draw near to God, sit with the friends of God. If you want the Resurrection to be established within you, sit with the friends of God. If you want to have a prophetic experience, sit with the friends of God. God has, in fact, descended, landed in the being of His friends. They are, in truth, God’s airport; He has fully descended there, and everything is there. Truly. That is, in this world, the friends of God are God Himself, made small, descended, and come to earth. The Resurrection is in their being, God is in their being, they are full of Him, full of the Resurrection, they are the resurrection, nay, they are the raisers of the resurrection. They possess spiritual experiences, and they impart all of these to those who keep their company. Like a great sea that draws others into its depths… The friends of God are a perfect exemplar of this world. God is there, the Resurrection is there, and prophethood is there. In one place, you find God, prophethood, and the Resurrection with them. It was for this reason that I said a person’s life is wasted unless they secure their share of this world with one of the friends of God” (“The Last Session of Rumi's Theology“, minutes 82-85).

Elsewhere, he points even more explicitly to the central, godlike role of the divine friend:

“Let me reveal a secret to you here: God does nothing in this world except through the hearts and souls of human beings. If an effect is to appear in this world, in the external physical world, it will issue from the soul of a human being. That is, a person is stirred to make a supplication from the depths of pain, to utter a curse, to raise a cry, God’s hand in this world is opened through the spirits of His friends… God’s hand in this world is opened through the spirits of human beings; He does not come directly into the midst of it. He comes directly in that He created us, but if you wish to explore and discover the causal channels of the matter, this is how it is. Just as the angels are agents in this world, superior to the angels are the souls of God’s friends. Friends who are alive or friends who have passed from this world, who are alive nonetheless, they make a spiritual resolve and a change occurs in this world. In this world, everything is achieved through the channel of our souls, our spirit, and our hearts and such. In the first degree, in relation to ourselves, and in the second degree, if we possess a strong soul, it may have this effect outside of us as well. Therefore, the final conclusion I draw, beyond this, dear hostess, I am not permitted to say. I have, in fact, said some things before. I said them, though perhaps I should not have. But one cannot go further than this. Go and discover it yourselves” (“The Secret of Prayer“, Ramadan 1395, minutes 49-52).

Soroush claims that power in this world belongs to the friends of God. And the changes resulting from their power permeate everywhere. Therefore, people must follow the friends of God.

But here Soroush’s eager disciples might ask him: where are those “living saints” who are the wellspring of power in this world? How can one find a living saint through whom to attain salvation and deliverance? Soroush, of course, has already subtly given his disciples the clues: a “living saint” is one who is the recipient of revelation, that is, one who is subject to prophetic dreams; a “living saint” is one who has beheld the formless Form; a “living saint” is one whose poems and ideas are inspired in his dreams; a “living saint” is one who has inhaled the “scent of God,” and so on. Could one give any clearer signs of a “living saint”? The answer is yes! Soroush goes even further, more clearly and explicitly, and introduces his own person as a saint among the saints of God. For example, years ago, in response to one of his critics, Soroush composed and published a poem describing himself. In this poem (which, presumably according to his claim, was revealed to him in a dream), he explicitly counts himself among the “saints” and as the “heavenly Soroush of the celestial realm”: “Beware, O shameless hemp-smokers / of the awe of the contraction and expansion of the saints…” (“The Tradition of Religious Intellectualism,” Madrasseh, Bahman 1385, p. 21)… “O heavenly Soroush of the celestial realm / Beware, sleep not from the assault of the opium-eaters.” And let us recall that Soroush, in arguing for Rumi’s prophethood, reasoned, among other things, that Rumi is a prophet because he said so about himself. Can one argue on this basis that Soroush, too, is the prophet or “living saint” of our time because he says so himself? It seems that Soroush’s answer, on this basis, is affirmative.

Thus the disciples’ duty becomes clear: if you wish to perceive the scent of God, follow Soroush: “To be exposed to the scent of God means to go to those who exude the scent of God. That is the gist of it. Now you might ask who exudes the scent of God. Well, I shouldn’t have to solve every part of the problem for you” (“The Scent of God,” June 2015, minute 102). But the truth is that at the very beginning of that same session, he had “solved” the problem for his audience—when he clearly and explicitly informed them that he himself had inhaled the scent of God and was, inevitably, imbued with that scent.

And by the same analogy, if the disciples wish to behold the Resurrection, they must come into the presence of the divine saint (Soroush): “In truth, the saints of God are themselves the plain of the Gathering. They are the very Resurrection itself. To sit beside them is as if you have entered the Resurrection. You either enter paradise or you enter hell. You come face to face with yourself…” Within them are a hundred resurrections in cash / the least of which is that the neighbor becomes intoxicated [6: 1301] (“The Last Session on Rumi’s Theology,” minutes 58–60]. If the disciples desire their prayers to be answered, they must connect to the divine saint (Soroush), and so on.

Thus, in the belief system of Soroush’s religion, God gives way to the Prophet, and the Prophet gives way to the Saint, and finally the “Saint of the Age” removes the veil from his face and reveals himself to his eager disciples: the path to salvation lies through devotion and recourse to the “heavenly Soroush of the celestial realm”!

■ The Concept of Resurrection: Soroush explicitly rules out personal life after death and resurrection (including bodily resurrection). In Soroush’s religion, resurrection is not an external, objective event, but an internal, subjective occurrence. He says on this matter: “Abrahamic religions have treated the subjective matters of hell, heaven, the Day of Judgment, resurrection, and so on as objective. In reality, all of these occur within the being of the Prophet/Friend of God. Since there is no way to describe ‘the purely formless God’ other than by giving it form, Muhammad depicted everything that happened within his person and that he saw in dreams in the form of the Day of Judgment, resurrection, heaven, and hell, and treated them as objective. But death is nothing other than joining the purely formless.” (“The Last Session on Rumi's Theology“, minutes 60–85]. Thus, on the matter of resurrection, too, Soroush distances himself from the tradition of Abrahamic religions and draws closer to Eastern religions.

The tiny human drop, through death, joins the boundless sea of God’s existence and thereby endures: “Know death to be the meeting of the community / For the water of life is hidden in darkness. / His death is water, and he is a seeker of water / He drinks, and God knows best what is right. / Have you seen a stream? Pour the jug into the stream / How can the water escape from the stream? / When the water of the jug enters the water of the stream / It vanishes within it, and the stream becomes it. / Its description faded and its essence remained / Henceforth it neither diminishes nor becomes ill-favored” [3: 3906–3913].

Sixth – Building a moral system around Soroush’s prophetic dreams: In his religion, Soroush does not advocate a specific moral system. But he believes that if religion becomes maximalist, that is, if it seeks to encompass all domains, it will inevitably become secular. For this reason, he advocates a minimalist religion. In Soroush’s view, morality is fundamentally independent of religion. Soroush believes that if people’s material life is secured, they will act morally of their own accord. (“Religious Conduct in the Modern World, Session Seven“, 25 July 2016). Therefore, Soroush’s religion has no specific morality of its own.

Seventh – Building a legal-jurisprudential system around Soroush’s prophetic dreams: Soroush has repeatedly emphasized that we need a new jurisprudence, and he claims that he himself possesses all the theoretical components necessary to establish a new jurisprudence. Here, I will confine myself to outlining a few important points about the jurisprudential system in Soroush’s religion:

■ The first point is that, in Soroush’s religion, all non-devotional rulings of Muhammad’s religion are suspended. From Soroush’s perspective, the rulings in the domain of transactions, which are the social rulings of Muhammad’s religion, are entirely confirmatory rulings and a reflection of the life of the Arabs in Muhammad’s era, and with the change of those conditions, all those rulings lose their validity, unless the contrary is proven. He says on this matter: “The certain fact is that the rulings of the Sharia, as found in the Quran and the Prophet’s Hadith, are all temporary, local, and belonging to the pre-modern world, unless the contrary is proven… For politics, penal matters, economics, and so on, one must refer to modern science and ethics” (“Muhammad, the Narrator of Prophetic Dreams (4): The Negation of Sharia and the Impossibility of Prophethood. Footnote 32).

■ The second point is that Soroush believes that some of the devotional acts of Muhammad's religion can be preserved. For example, he says: “Rituals and devotional rites such as prayer, fasting, Hajj, zakat, and abstention from wine and impurities are the most enduring and captivating part of jurisprudence. These are the protective shell of morality and the core of prophetic conduct, and they can forever prepare the ground for spirituality and give identity to the Islamic Ummah.” (“Muhammad, the Narrator of Prophetic Dreams (4): The Negation of Sharia and the Refusal of Prophethood. Footnote 32).

■ The third point, however, is that Soroush believes that even in cases where the devotional acts of Muhammad's religion can be preserved, adapting those rulings and acts of worship to the requirements of the modern world requires “creative ijtihad.” (Ibid.)

■ The fourth point is that Soroush also has suggestions for reforming the existing devotional rulings in Muhammad's religion and adapting them to the requirements of modern life. For example, when it comes to the ruling on Hajj, he emphasizes that the number of pilgrims in the Hajj ceremony should be reduced from the current two million to about fifty thousand, because under the current conditions and with this huge number of pilgrims, worship is impossible, and this population density also makes the Hajj environment unsafe—for instance, people must constantly be careful not to fall victim to thieves and pickpockets.

Soroush believes that Muhammad was a very identity-conscious man, and therefore, in establishing religious customs and rituals, he introduced elements into the religion that played an identity-giving role so that Muslims could find a distinct and distinguished identity from the Jewish and Christian communities of the region. Thus, many elements of Muhammad's religion have no role other than identity-giving. (“The Discourse of Contemporary Muslimness” – Part Four, minute 15-3). Soroush believes that as long as the identity-giving elements of Muhammad's religion do not conflict with various aspects of our lives, they can be preserved. But if they cause trouble for our lives, we can change them: “That is, as long as we can keep the month of Ramadan and Muslims all fast, well, they fast. As long as we can perform the prayer in the same form that the Prophet experienced and taught us, as long as it does not cause us a problem, and does not conflict with a more important benefit or expediency, there is no reason for us to abandon it. Because these are pillars of identity, and these pillars of identity, for instance, taking Friday as a holiday and things like that…” (“The Discourse of Contemporary Muslimness” – Part Four, minute 96-92).

■ The fifth point is that Soroush believes, however, that the devotional acts of Muhammad's religion are not sufficient, and other acts of worship must be added to that set. For example, following Rumi, he recommends the inclusion of Sama and music as religious worship. Or he considers practicing yoga exercises as a beneficial part of religious devotions. For example, he says:

“But as to whether we can also add things to these [i.e., to the acts of worship and devotional rulings of Muhammad's religion] or not? Look, of course in these matters, now look, here we said that someone should come and treat us to the caress of music… Our Sufis introduced Sama‘ essentially as an act of worship; the jurists opposed them greatly, and they remain opposed to this day. But someone like Rumi, someone like Abu Sa‘id Abu’l-Khayr, for them dance and Sama‘ were truly worship, and they made use of it. Let alone that there were some who, when told during Sama‘, ‘Sir, your prayer time is passing,’ replied, ‘We are in prayer’… In any case, as to whether another ritual can be added or not? In principle, there should be no problem. But this comes back to the fact that a personality, an authority, must stand behind it who can establish this and whom individuals will follow” (“The Discourse of Contemporary Muslimness” – Part Four, minutes 92-96).

The main point in these changes is that last sentence, meaning these changes require the existence of a charismatic personality who inspires others to follow him—a personality of the kind of a prophet or a divine saint. He believes that emulation of and following such an authoritative source is very important and fateful in the modern era. In explaining this meaning, he says:

“Iqbal Lahori has extensive verses under the title that in an era of decline, emulation is better than independent inquiry. His speech, of course, belongs to the new era. That is, he does not speak within that former Sufi and mystical framework, but the gist of his words is that if the era is one of decline, if a society has regressed culturally, if everyone considers themselves a reformer and an independent inquirer and says, ‘I have reached the truth,’ it will increase fragmentation. Perhaps in such times, emulation—meaning listening to the word of one person or a few authorities—is more appropriate, more path-opening, and more salvific” (“Sixth Session on Rumi's Theology,” minutes 15-17).

Therefore, Soroush's recommendation is that in the modern era, for salvation from the crisis of decline, it is better for Muslims to “emulate” one or a few limited authorities. But who could this authoritative and salvific source be? Soroush does not need to answer this question himself. His answer can be understood based on the foundations he has clearly laid out: the pole to which Muslims must cling for salvation from decline is a saint from among the friends of God, who is himself the recipient of revelation. At the very least, the duty of the companions of the “Soroushieh Sect” is clear in this regard: their task is to emulate their “living saint.”

Final Word

As I stated at the beginning of this writing, my claim in this article is simple: Soroush considers himself to possess all the dignities of a prophet and a saint who receives revelation, and therefore, as the “living saint” of the age and by virtue of his prophetic dreams, he has founded or invented a new religion, and promises his audience that the path to salvation from decline is precisely to emulate the “Heavenly Soroush of the Celestials” and to follow the “Soroushieh Sect,” a sect that will ultimately become “worldwide.” “This book has come to an end, the tale remains still.”

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Soroush's Claim to Prophethood and the Promise of a Global Soroushieh Sect

Author: Akbar Ganji

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