Soroush's Theory of Prophethood – Soroush the Prophet (1)

In my article “Soroush's Claim to Prophethood and the Promise of the Global Spread of the “Soroushiyya Sect,” I argued in detail that Abdolkarim Soroush's intellectual project has entered a phase of religion-making, and within the framework of this project, he assumes the station of prophethood for himself—a prophet who has founded a new religion. In response to the arguments of that article, Soroush denies the claim of prophethood from himself and explicitly states: “By God, I am not a prophet. I have not claimed prophethood either… I am neither a prophet, nor do I claim prophethood, nor do I have the capacity for prophethood, nor the desire for prophethood, I have none of these… By God, by God, I swear by the Prophet, I am not a prophet and I make no such claim.”[1]

In my view, these statements by Soroush can be considered a positive step forward. In a world where the emergence of new sects and religions and claimants of connection to the unseen realm fuels various fruitless religious and political conflicts and tensions, Soroush's denial should be taken as a good omen.

But the issue of Soroush's “claim to prophethood” is more complex than to be resolved by a simple verbal denial. It seems to me that Soroush must take other important steps to resolve this dilemma. On a simple and trivial level, “claim to prophethood” is equivalent to a formal and public declaration of being a prophet—that is, the individual explicitly and verbally claims prophethood and messengership. But “claim to prophethood” is not confined to a formal and public declaration. Another method of claiming prophethood is for the individual to propagate and promote premises that, taken together, instill belief in the claimant's prophethood in the minds of the audience. That is, without formally and explicitly declaring prophethood, the individual presents a theory about prophethood according to which, for example, “if an individual possesses attributes A, B, and C, then that individual is a prophet.” And then the individual gradually and progressively convinces their audience that “I possess attributes A, B, and C.” Of course, here the individual does not need to explicitly state the logical conclusion of these two premises. They can leave the conclusion to the minds of their audience. It is sufficient that the audience first accepts their first premise about the characteristics of a prophet, and in the second step, becomes convinced that they possess those characteristics. In this case, the audience, by themselves and without needing the claimant's explicit statement, reaches the conclusion that “therefore, that individual is a prophet.” Here, the claim to prophethood is achieved through the implicit signification of the premises. My claim in previous articles has also been that Abdolkarim Soroush's theory of prophethood, plus the attributes he enumerates for himself, together show that he is a claimant to prophethood.[2] Here, Soroush's denial of the conclusion (that is, his denial of his prophethood) is convincing and acceptable only if he does at least one of the following two things: either revise his theory of prophethood, or retract the prophetic attributes he ascribes to himself. Otherwise, as long as Soroush still believes in and adheres to those two premises, he is willy-nilly committed and bound to the conclusion resulting from those two premises, and cannot call those who conclude his prophethood based on those two premises “foolish,” “ignorant,” “malevolent,” “fabricator,” “distorter,” “slanderer,” “Pharaoh,” “stabber,” “wolf,” “demon,” “oath-breakers (Nakitheen),” “apostates (Mariqeen),” “unjust (Qasiteen),” “Kharijites,” and “old women,” and accuse them of various political charges—including collusion with the Islamic Republic to attain power.[3]

In three articles (“Soroush – Interpreting the Words of God or Interpreting Muhammad's Dreams,” “The Superiority of Polytheists in Soroush's “Muhammad's Dreams” Hypothesis,” and “Soroush's Quran: “Muhammad's Disturbed Dream Journal””), I have endeavored in detail, citing extensive documentation from Soroush's writings and lectures, to provide a comprehensive picture of Soroush's views on prophethood and the nature of divine revelation and to demonstrate the problems and inconsistencies of those claims. In my view, the reader of those articles will clearly understand that Soroush's recent claims about the nature and mechanism of revelation are entirely arbitrary, incoherent, and unscientific, and have no acceptable basis. But in that case, the question arises: how, then, should one understand Soroush's theory of revelation and his attempt to consider Rumi a prophet and the Masnavi-ye Ma'navi as revelation?

In the article “Soroush's Claim to Prophethood and the Promise of the Global Spread of the “Soroushiyya Sect”,” I tried to show that Soroush's theory of revelation, Rumi's prophethood, and the revelatory nature of the Masnavi (refer to the article “Soroush: “The Jihadi/Enslavement Book of the Quran” and “The Non-Jihadi Love Book of the Masnavi””) can be seen as part of a broader program within Soroush's intellectual project: the project of Soroush's prophethood and the founding of a new religion.

These articles are based not on reading intentions or seeking motives, but on a large volume of Soroush's writings and lectures. Therefore, whatever Soroush's intention and motive may be, the basis of my claim is his published words and writings. If Soroush thinks that his audience's interpretation of his repeated statements on various occasions and positions is based on some kind of misunderstanding or miscomprehension, it is incumbent upon him to show how his sometimes explicit and clear statements and claims can be interpreted differently. My claim has never been that Soroush intends or aims to found a new sect or religion. My claim is that Soroush has founded such a sect or religion and is in the process of completing its components. My claim has nothing to do with Soroush's hypothetical intent and purpose, but rather pertains to a reality that has become clear in the external world and within the text of Soroush's public writings and lectures.

My research method regarding Soroush's claim to prophethood is, as it happens, in some ways similar to the method Soroush himself employed to prove Rumi's prophethood. Rumi, too, never explicitly declared prophethood or the founding of a new religion. But Soroush (regardless of the correctness or incorrectness of his final claim) tries to justify the claim of Rumi's prophethood by juxtaposing various parts of Rumi's surviving works. As it happens, the evidence I have presented based on Soroush's works for his claim to prophethood is far more convincing and robust than the evidence he presents based on Rumi's works for Rumi's prophethood.

It is interesting that Soroush, in order to consolidate his religion-making project, also cites the words of Muslim mystics and philosophers, drawing highly eccentric conclusions from their views in favor of his own theories. In all these cases, Soroush acknowledges that those sages, of course, did not actually say the things he attributes to them, but he reads between the lines of their writings and infers his eccentric opinions based on what they have said implicitly and in veiled terms. In his words, these Muslim philosophers and mystics have said some things and left some things unsaid, and we must ourselves infer the unsaid from their premises.[4] That is, Soroush, in the position of understanding and interpreting the works of others, believes that one can infer others' unsaid words from their said words, and he absolutely does not consider this act of his to be the reprehensible practice of reading intentions and analyzing motives. But if this is the case, why, if someone infers the unsaid of his works from his said words, does that person presumably have some ulterior motive and illness, and has committed the reprehensible act of reading intentions and analyzing motives, and is presumably in the service of a tyrannical ruler?

In any case, my purpose in this writing is more to show that, despite Soroush's denial, his works clearly indicate his claim to prophethood, and if he truly has no such claim, then in addition to verbal denial, he must necessarily make fundamental revisions in his views as well. In this article, I try to show from new aspects why Soroush's works readily lend themselves to an interpretation by virtue of which a claim to prophethood can be attributed to him. And as long as Soroush does not fundamentally revise some of his views and claims, that interpretation will remain valid.

In this article, I address two main topics: in the first part, I provide an account of Soroush's theory of prophethood, the result of which is his own prophethood and messengership; in the second part, I enumerate the signs of his religion-making.

Reasons for Abdolkarim Soroush's Prophethood

One of the most important foundations of Soroush's claim to prophethood is his theory about prophethood. Therefore, I think it is necessary to formulate his theory regarding prophethood in greater detail.

In Soroush's view, the phenomenon of prophethood has two main pillars: the revelatory experience, and the feeling of a mission. That is, a prophet is someone who, firstly, is exposed to revelation, and secondly, through the revelatory experience, feels a sense of mission and duty within himself. Therefore, according to Soroush, if someone possesses these two attributes, they have attained the status of prophethood. It is good to examine these two pillars independently.

The First Pillar, or Revelation: In the first step, Soroush considers revelation to be a kind of “religious experience” – an experience that settles so strongly in the prophet's heart that he feels a special mission and duty within himself. For example, in August 1997, he writes: “The constituent of the personality and prophethood of the prophets and their only capital is that very revelation or, in today's term, ‘religious experience.’ In this experience, the prophet sees as if someone comes to him and recites messages and commands into his ear and heart, making him duty-bound and obligated to convey those messages to human beings, and that prophet becomes so certain of that command and that word, and feels such confidence and courage within himself, that he becomes ready to stand alone against all bitterness, hardships, attacks, and enmities and fulfill his duty.”[5]

The Second Pillar, or the Feeling of a Mission: What does Soroush mean by the prophetic “mission and duty”? In November 1994, Soroush writes: “God is a guide, and His guidance is universal, and He has sent the prophets for this very purpose.”[6] Therefore, from Soroush's perspective, the primary mission and duty of the prophets is the guidance of human beings.[7]

Soroush's views on these two pillars, however, underwent significant changes. Among them, Soroush initially considered these two characteristics to be exclusive to prophets. For example, in the 1980s and the first half of the 1990s, he considered the first pillar of prophethood and prophecy (i.e., revelation) to be closed to human beings, and in this sense, he regarded the door of prophethood as having reached its finality, but he believed that, with the exception of this aspect, the rest of the prophetic functions are open to all human beings. In July 1993, he writes: “We are not partners with the Prophet in revelation; he speaks and we listen. But in other attributes, we can follow that noble figure; we can be pious, we can be compassionate, we can be rebellious in the face of injustices and anti-scientific attitudes, and, in the words of that poet, ‘insubordinate.’ All of these are the realization of the prophets' message and seeking blessing from the prophetic mission.”[8]

Soroush also considered the pillar of mission and the duty of guidance to be a special function of the prophets, and he did not even deem the duty of guidance obligatory for the Imams and mystics. For example, in September 1995, he says: “Even when the Prophet was not a ruler, he had the occupation of guidance… Of course, when a person becomes a ruler and has more resources at their disposal, they can better fulfill this mission… Among the collection of prophetic functions, the function of prophethood is fundamentally a different function. The late Mr. Motahhari, in discussing the conduct of the Imams, explains that it was obligatory for the Prophet to go to the people and guide them. But this was not obligatory for the Imams. If people came to the Imams, they would benefit from their guidance, but the Imams themselves did not go to the people to provide guidance. The point is not that the Imam should not have guided the people. That is, there was no prohibition; the discussion is about whether this specific mission was obligatory for them. But the Prophet was essentially sent for this very purpose. A prophet must go after the people and convey the divine message to their ears by any means possible, and spare no sacrifice, resistance, perseverance, war, or selflessness in this path. But the Imams do not have such a duty. Rather, they are, to the extent of an ordinary Muslim, obligated to enjoin good and forbid evil, no more. In any case, you must keep these differences in mind.”[9]

But Soroush gradually tried to open these two doors to individuals other than prophets as well. For example, in August 1997, he considered revelation a type of religious experience that is, in principle, accessible to individuals other than prophets. From Soroush's perspective, for instance, mystics are also exposed to revelatory experiences. The only difference between prophets and others lies not in the revelatory experience, but in the “feeling of a mission and the duty to convey and guide.” That is, in Soroush's view, the sole distinguishing feature of a prophet from a non-prophet lies in the second pillar of prophethood, not in its first pillar. Thus, according to Soroush's view, non-prophets can also possess religious-revelatory experiences. Such experiences alone do not make someone a prophet. An individual possessing a revelatory experience only attains the station of prophethood if they also feel within themselves a sense of mission and duty. And since mystics who had revelatory experiences did not have such a sense of mission, a prophetic status cannot be attributed to them. For example, Soroush writes on this matter: “The difference between prophets and other possessors of experience is that they do not remain within the confines and enclosure of personal experience and are not content with it, nor do they spend their lives in inner tastes and ecstasies; rather, upon the indwelling and attainment of this experience, they feel a new mission and become a new human being, and this new human being builds a new world and a new humanity.”[10]

But Soroush does not stop here. The general view of Muslims—including Muslim philosophers and mystics—was that the revelatory experience of the Prophet of Islam is ultimately perfect. Essentially, from their perspective, the concept of the Seal of the Prophets meant nothing other than that the Prophet of Islam had attained complete unveiling and therefore received the perfect degree of revelation. Soroush himself, in expressing this view of the Muslim mystics, writes: “[Muslim mystics] considered the difference between the revelations or experiences of the prophets to be a difference in degree, not in kind. For this reason, they used the expression ‘the complete Muhammadan unveiling’ for the Seal of the Prophets, meaning they believed that other prophets also possessed unveiling, but an incomplete unveiling, and when it came to the Holy Prophet, he achieved ‘complete unveiling.’ And they understood the Seal of the Prophets in this same sense, meaning they said that there is no stage or rank above complete unveiling, and ‘al-khātam man khatam al-marātib bi-asrihā’ [the Seal is one who has traversed all ranks and left no rank untraversed].”[11]

But Soroush does not accept this analysis. From his perspective, the Prophet’s revelatory experience lacks that alleged perfection, and the mystics and people of experience of later generations, through “their own unique experiences,” make “new unveilings” and add to the “richness” of Muhammad’s revelatory experience, bringing its “minimal perfection” to “maximal perfection.” And it is for this reason that, in the history of religion, mystics arise who are the envy of previous prophets. Soroush writes on this matter: “Religious and revelatory experiences will, of course, continue. Mulla Sadra relates a wondrous narration in Mafātīḥ al-Ghayb with a lofty mystical import: ‘Inna li-llāhi ʿibādan laysū bi-anbiyāʾ yaghbiṭuhum al-nubuwwah: God has servants who are not prophets, yet prophethood envies them.’ That is, they have special inner receptions from the unseen world, and perhaps their status and rank are higher than some of the prophets whose names are recorded in the history of prophethood. Nevertheless, these high-ranking servants have no duty or mission to convey and propagate a law… The burden of mission and responsibility will henceforth be placed on no one’s shoulders.”[12] Therefore, one can expect mystics whose personality is superior to (at least) some of the previous prophets: “The path of independent and authentic religious experiences is not closed even after the Prophet, and many saints can emerge whose experience and unveilings add to the richness of the religious treasury, and whose personality is even superior to the prophets of old.”[13]

But does the sense of mission and guiding mission remain exclusive to the prophets? Soroush’s affirmative answer to this question gradually changes. In Aban 1373 (October–November 1994), he writes: “If the human perspective is brought in, we are all responsible for guiding the misguided, and nothing exempts us from action.”[14] Soroush gradually places the prophetic mission of guidance explicitly on the shoulders of “religious intellectualism,” and claims that the guidance of the ship of the Muslim community rests with religious intellectuals, and that they must guide the people eagerly—like the Prophet.[15]

Thus, Soroush gradually removes both pillars of prophethood from the exclusivity of prophets in the specific sense of the word, and opens the possibility for everyone to, in principle, possess these prophetic attributes.

But here we must ask which of these two pillars of prophethood, from Soroush’s perspective, plays the more fundamental role in prophethood. Soroush, without any ambiguity, believes that the core of prophethood is the very thing considered the core of religion—that is, religious/revelatory experience. In 1377 (1998–1999), he writes on this matter: “What is intrinsically religious is religious experience. And this religious experience is the same thing that, in the case of the prophets, is called ‘receiving revelation’… It is this religious experience that is inherently religious, and whoever possesses it is, to some degree, a prophet.”[16]

Therefore, from Soroush's perspective, religious experience, or revelation itself, is the only intrinsically religious phenomenon, and whoever attains it has reached a degree of the ranks of prophethood—even to the point where, in this journey, an individual might reach such a station that the prophets of old would envy his status. Thus, the heart of prophethood is this religious-revelatory experience: “[This experience] is the only truly and essentially religious phenomenon, which shone like sacred sparks in the pure souls of the prophets, illuminating their existence for a short or long while and opening their eyes to the inner realities of this world. Wherever such an experience occurs, the truth of religion has become present there.”[17]

But in the prevailing conception among Muslims, the phenomenon of prophethood consisted of the particularly linguistic communication of the prophet with a personal, anthropomorphic God. In fact, it was God who chose an individual for prophethood and delegated to him the mission of conveying the divine message and guiding the people. The prophet's duty within this conception was to convey the divine message (i.e., revelation) to human beings without any alteration whatsoever. Soroush initially, with caution, considered this conception of revelation to be the basis of the individual prophet's “feeling” of mission and commission. For example, in The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, Soroush writes that during his religious experiences, Muhammad felt “as if” someone were speaking in his ear, and as a result of this experience, he underwent a transformation and “felt” that a new mission had been placed upon his shoulders. Ostensibly, Soroush's words could be interpreted as meaning that a personal, anthropomorphic God recited words (i.e., revelation) into Muhammad's ear and gave him the mission to convey that message. But Soroush later clears up this misunderstanding. In Soroush's expression, the term “as if” is important. That is, from Soroush's perspective, what occurs in Muhammad's revelatory experience and fuels his “feeling” of mission and commission was not a message from God. In fact, as Soroush later clarifies, God essentially plays no role in this process. In March 1997, in a lecture on “Minimalist and Maximalist Religion,” Soroush speaks of the “maximalist God,” claiming that this God is indefensible, and instead defends the “minimalist or apophatic God.”[18] He believes—in September 2006—that when “excessive expectations of God arise, the preconditions for God's downfall are also prepared“[19]. At this time, he explicitly adds that God is not, in the true sense of the word, “speaking” [mutakallim][20], and the Quran must therefore be considered the words of Muhammad. His five lectures on “The Form of Formlessness” in 1997 were aimed at transforming the “maximalist God” into the “minimalist God,” but the meaning of this move was not well understood at the time.[21]

In the 2010s, Soroush introduced two new developments in his theory of prophethood. In the first step, he replaced the personal, anthropomorphic, speaking God of the Quran with an absolute, formless God or an impersonal God. Soroush's God does nothing except create the universe. For example, this God lacks a mind and is essentially incapable of speaking or exchanging meaning with humans. (Of course, even the very attribution of the anthropomorphic attribute of “creatorship” to this impersonal and non-anthropomorphic God seems strange and inconsistent.) In the second step, Soroush transformed the equation “revelation = religious experience” into the equation “revelation = dream.” In Soroush's view, the real Torah, the real Gospel, and the Quran are, respectively, the products of the dreams of Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad. These prophets had “complete and total agency” in composing these dreams, and no other agent—such as God or angels—played any role in the formation and production of these “dream-books” [khabnameh].[22] The most important pillar of these prophetic dreams is the vision of the formless form or the impersonal and non-anthropomorphic God. Prophets who attain this station move beyond the status of “text-centricity,” meaning they are prophets who are no longer subject to and bound by previous religions, and have the right to bestow their own particular form upon that formless matter, since the relation of the formless matter to all forms is the same.[23]

If revelation is nothing but the prophet's dreams, then what becomes of the prophetic "sense of mission and apostleship"? Where should one seek the meaning and root of this feeling? According to Soroush's new model, the root of that sense of responsibility and mission cannot be sought in God's choice and command. This feeling merely wells up and grows from within the prophet himself: "God does not send prophets. They rise up on their own, just as plants become green by themselves and like volcanoes that erupt by themselves."[24] In other words, if it is not God who chooses Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad for prophethood, then the pillar of the prophetic mission has no meaning other than that those dreamers themselves were the source of their own sense of mission. In fact, it is the dreamers themselves who decide to cast their dreams in the form of a dream-book and share it with others.

In that case, the question arises: what, then, is the difference between these prophets and reformers who say "I have had a dream" and, based on it, sacrifice their lives in the path of spreading the word of truth? Wherein lies the difference between prophets and guides such as Martin Luther King, Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, or Abdolkarim Soroush? Soroush's answer is: "Prophets possess self-awareness and certainty of their own prophethood. Their difference from other guides is precisely this." That is, the only difference is that prophets felt a certainty within themselves that they must share their experiences with others, convey their dreams to the people, and strive to guide them.[25]

Therefore, Soroush's latest formulation of the theory of prophethood becomes as follows: Prophethood is based on two pillars: the first pillar consists of dreams, and the second pillar is a strong inner sense of certainty that wells up from within the individual—that is, the dreaming individual—and impels him to guide the people. Anyone who sees apostolic dreams and finds within himself a sense of mission and apostleship to convey and guide is a prophet/apostle. And of course, those prophetic dreams, according to Soroush's view, are not the monopoly of prophets (in the strict sense of the word), and the sense of mission and apostleship is also not something that non-prophet individuals (in the strict sense of the word) cannot find within themselves. In this way, the door of prophethood is opened and the circle of prophets becomes exceedingly wide.

Thus, Soroush's first premise is that a prophet is someone who has two important characteristics: his primary characteristic is that he is exposed to revelation (that is, he sees/constructs prophetic dreams whose essence is the vision of the "formless God"), and also, as a result of these apostolic dreams—that is, the vision of the formless form—he finds within himself a sense of mission for the spiritual and religious guidance of the people.

But the second premise is whether Abdolkarim Soroush himself possesses these two attributes or not. I have discussed this in detail in my previous articles and refer the reader to those writings. But in brief, it seems that Soroush's answer to these two questions is affirmative. He explicitly considers himself exposed to revelation. For example, he claims somewhere that he received his views regarding revelation being a dream through revelation: "In fact, this theory of revelation being a dream was itself a dream for me. It was itself a revelation for me. And therefore, it is not much less than the subject and the problem itself."[26] He speaks at length of his prophetic dreams (and especially the vision of the formless form), and considers himself obliged to share his religious experiences (that is, his prophetic dreams) with others (he has conveyed his apostolic dreams to everyone)[27], and it seems that, as the only true "religious intellectual," he has for years felt the heavy burden of prophetic and arcane "guidance" upon his shoulders, and believes that over the last three decades of his life, he has had a very successful record in guiding the people.[28] If one puts these two premises together, does one not have the right to ask oneself whether Soroush is actually claiming prophethood?

To be continued

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The author strongly recommends that the esteemed readers of this article carefully study its footnotes for close familiarity with the exact phrases of Abdolkarim Soroush.

Footnotes

[1] Abdolkarim Soroush, “Religious Conduct in the Modern World – Session Ten,” minutes 80–88.

[2] Instances of Soroush’s claims about his “prophetic dreams” will be mentioned later. But the issue is that he has also made claims about his childhood, adolescence, and youth. He says:

“I remember in my childhood, before and after elementary school, I had many fevers, and I recall someone telling my mother: one of the reasons for so-and-so’s many fevers is that he reads heavy books, books that are not suitable for him, and bearing this heavy burden is beyond his capacity. This is what makes him sick and feverish” (Hossein Kaji, The Ethics of Soroush, p. 161).

Pay attention. Even before elementary school, Soroush was reading very heavy books and would get fevers because of it. Continuing about his high school years, he says:

“Again, I recall that two years later in high school, I had seriously thought about founding a philosophical system and had decided to build a philosophical apparatus, and my intention was to begin that philosophical system with the definition of existence; I would discuss this with my classmates, and they also found my words worth hearing in these matters, and so they would sit and converse with me” (Hossein Kaji, The Ethics of Soroush, p. 163).

During this period, in a mystical and esoteric manner, he moved in the heavens and looked down upon people, wondering why they did not commit suicide due to their repetitive lives. He says he had such a state at the age of seventeen or eighteen:

“The reason was that I myself was full of the meaning of life and very joyful and expansive. Sometimes I thought I was walking above the earth, not on the earth. I felt such elevation, and there was a bliss in me that made me look at everything from a higher perspective and feel that people’s lives were truly a repetition of repetitions. I wondered why they did not get tired of these repetitions? Why don’t they commit suicide? Why don’t they protest? Why do they continue? My every day was new. This renewal and this bliss of mine also had an entirely mystical and divine character. I had a kind of connection with God and the supernatural that was very delightful for me. Perhaps now I cannot properly understand what state I was in, but I was full of life and full of bliss” (Hossein Kaji, The Ethics of Soroush, Rowzaneh Publications, pp. 177–176).

He claims that from the age of seventeen or eighteen, he was an esotericist and looked at people from a different perspective. He says:

“Perhaps I had a Rumi-like quality. You know that Rumi never asks, ‘Why did I come? What am I doing in this world?’ He is so joyful and flies at such a high altitude that his wings do not get wet and soiled by the waters of daily life. The existential questions that are worrying and anxiety-inducing, of the kind found in Khayyam, are not present in Rumi. Yes, that’s right. I too lived esoterically. Of course, later my mind and my life became even more esoteric. Now I think I understand to some extent what a secret means? And how is it that they cannot be told and should not be told? I think I understand what the likes of Rumi meant by the two-layeredness of their lives? And why they said some of the things they said? I suppose I quickly understand Rumi’s words, meaning as soon as he opens his mouth to say something, I read it to the end. I lived this way for a while, full of bliss, full of life, and of course, with a spectatorship of other people’s lives and even feeling sorry for them, how do they endure their non-esoteric life?” (Hossein Kaji, The Ethics of Soroush, pp. 178–177).

Soroush says that whenever it rains, he is extraordinarily affected, dances in the rain, involuntary movements come from him, he becomes ecstatic, shouts, does strange things, goes and lies on the pool water (Hossein Kaji, The Ethics of Soroush, p. 185).

[3] Abdolkarim Soroush, “Hark, Say That My Fortune Has Triumphed.” In the article “The Theoretical Contraction and Expansion of Abdolkarim Soroush,” I have explained how he responded to his critics at each stage of his intellectual transition.

[4] Soroush says:

“Rumi and no philosopher has explicitly stated this matter. I am stating the conclusions of their words. Do not expect that philosophers themselves will state a point, draw its conclusions themselves, and tell you. They state the premises; you must make the inference. If you do not, you do not. That is up to you. But the inference is yours. Ibn Khaldun has a detailed discussion, and he quotes from the philosophers, of course, that the prophets themselves performed the miracles. I once gave a lecture at Harvard University and raised this very point. I said that Ibn Khaldun has said something here and left something unsaid, but it is there within his words. He says the miracles of the prophets are the product of the strength of their souls. God has given the prophets a powerful soul by which they can exercise control over nature. For instance, turn a staff into a serpent, bring forth a spring from a rock, and so on. And he says this is the view of the philosophers. When it comes to the Prophet of Islam, he says nothing further. I said there that the implication of Ibn Khaldun's words is that the Quran, too, is the product of the Prophet's soul's strength. Because if it is the Prophet's miracle, the Prophet must have done this, but he does not say this. However, if you read carefully, you will see between the lines that it is exactly inferable from the words of this great man and the words of other philosophers who hold that miracles are the product of the power of the prophets' strong souls in controlling affairs, in nature, in insight into consciences, and the like” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Ten,” September 26, 2016, minutes 33-38).

According to Soroush's belief, the miracles recounted in the Quran did not occur in the real world and are all mythical tales that Muhammad saw in his dreams. Nevertheless, here, where a claim serves his purpose, he makes use of it.

[5] Abdolkarim Soroush, The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, Serat, 4th edition, p. 3.

[6] Abdolkarim Soroush, Tolerance and Management, Serat, 1st edition, p. 386.

In July 1988, in Contraction and Expansion 2, Soroush had written: “The pillars, principles, and branches of the religion revealed to the Prophet. These are the very essence of the Sharia and are sacred and heavenly matters. And they are the gift of the Merciful God and for the guidance of humanity, and the manifestation of the Lord's names of the Merciful, the Guide, and the Bestower, and no creature is without need of them. And they are in a state of perfection and completeness, meaning they are in accordance with the Lawgiver's purpose and convey the portion of guidance He intended. And no necessary part of them is absent. The principles and branches of religions differ from one another, and the Lord of the world, in every age, has asked people to follow a Sharia” (Abdolkarim Soroush, The Theoretical Contraction and Expansion of the Sharia, Serat, 4th edition, p. 206).

[7] Consider the following evidence:

First piece of evidence – “The difference between prophets and other people of experience is that they do not remain within the confines and enclosure of personal experience and are not content with it, nor do they spend their lives in inner tastes and ecstasies; rather, upon the indwelling and attainment of this experience, they feel a new mission and become a new human being, and this new human being builds a new world and a new humanity” (The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 4).

Second Testimony– “This is the best expression of the difference between one who remains within the realm of his own experience, content with it and never transcending it, and another who acquires a new personality and resolves to build a new world. It is essential to emphasize that the religious experience itself does not make anyone a prophet, and merely seeing the angel or the world beyond the realm of the visible does not bring about prophethood…In prophethood, a concept and element of mission is embedded, and it is precisely this that is absent in the conventional experiences of mystics. And with the finality of prophethood, this mission departs, but the principle of experience and unveiling remains” (The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, pp. 4-6).

Third Testimony– “The lowest levels of religious experiences are ‘righteous dreams,’ and the higher levels are the tastes, ecstasies, and unveilings of the mystics” (The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 7).

Fourth Testimony– “Today, the era of the prophetic mission has ended, but the field remains open for the expansion of the prophetic experience” ( The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 27).

Fifth Testimony– “In any case, the very fundamental point is that the account of legal personality must be kept separate from the account of authority, mission, legal personality, and legislative guardianship. Personalities are not religious proofs unless they have received a mission. There have been many divine mystics and sages who, despite the greatness of their personalities, did not and do not possess a mission or guardianship” ( The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 144).

[8] Tolerance and Management, p. 289.

In February 1991, Soroush had also written in the preface to The Theoretical Contraction and Expansion of the Sharia: “We human beings are now expelled from paradise and left without revelation” ( The Theoretical Contraction and Expansion of the Sharia, p. 60). Thus, he considered the finality of prophethood to mean the finality of revelation and did not regard speaking in a prophetic/revelatory manner as the station of human beings.

[9] Tolerance and Management, pp. 206-207.

Soroush has repeated this exact point this year. He says:

“In fact, Rumi wants to say, in the language of silence, that the prophetic station is not ours. The Prophet goes after the people, and says, ‘Come, I have some things to tell you; indeed, I fear that if I do not tell you these things, you will perish.’ In words transmitted from the Prophet, which Rumi, as it happens, also cites and alludes to in the Masnavi, the Prophet said, ‘I am like someone who sees a candle with moths circling around it, and one by one they are ensnared by the flame and vanish, and I am standing here to keep you away from the fire. I have come to prevent you from falling into perdition and destruction.’ In those final verses of Surah At-Tawbah, it is also stated: ‘لَقَدْ جَاءَکُمْ رَسُولٌ مِنْ أَنْفُسِکُمْ عَزِیزٌ عَلَیْهِ مَا عَنِتُّمْ حَرِیصٌ عَلَیْکُمْ’ [At-Tawbah, 128]: A Prophet has come to you, for whom your suffering is his suffering; it grieves him if you fall into hardship and perdition; he has come to take your hand and save you from destruction. But the mystics have always said this; they said, ‘We do not go after anyone, unless they come after us.’ Do you see? Unless they come after us. Even the Shi‘a hold this same view regarding the Shi‘a Imams. They say the Shi‘a Imams were not prophets; it was not obligatory upon them to go after the people and convey their message to them. They said, ‘Here we are; if you appreciate our worth, if you wish, come and ask, inquire, and we will guide you, but we have no duty beyond this.’ They even gave an example, saying that the mystic or the Imam—it has been said in both cases—is like the Kaaba. The Kaaba does not get up and go to the people saying, ‘Come and become pilgrims.’ People must go to the Kaaba to become pilgrims. The Kaaba stays in its place. If you wish to attain a blessing, then by all means, set out, prepare for the journey, go to Mecca, and visit the House of God. Otherwise, do not sit waiting for the Kaaba to come to you. Now, regarding the Imams and the Shi‘a opinion, I have nothing to say for the moment, but this is the case concerning the mystics. And it is very important. That prophethood is the responsibility of the prophets meant, in truth, that the Prophet runs after the people, like a physician who runs after the sick. He was not at all one to sit in a place and tell the sick, ‘If you are sick, well, come to me.’ This point is very interesting. In Nahj al-Balagha, it is also stated that ‘طَبِیبٌ دَوَّارٌ بِطِبِّهِ’ [Sermon 108]. Among the attributes that Imam Ali mentions there about the Prophet of Islam is this very one; he says, ‘طَبِیبٌ دَوَّارٌ بِطِبِّهِ’—he was a roaming physician, a traveling physician; he had set out and was calling out, saying, ‘Whoever is sick, come,’ and he himself would go and find the sick. Jesus was the same way; he went after the people. He would even go among the sinners, among fallen women, among those who had social difficulties and deviations. He would go and find them, sit and associate with them. He did not consider this beneath his dignity in any way; rather, he considered it the very essence of his dignity, the very essence of his dignity. He said, ‘This is precisely the work for which God has sent me.’ He did not sit waiting to see whether others would come to him or not. But the mystics, well, they did not consider such a station and mission for themselves. And they said, ‘Very well, if someone wishes to come, we will not withhold.’ In any case, here, this statement that Rumi makes, and alludes to, and explicitly states, one of its reasons could be this very point” (“Commentary on the Masnavi, Book One – Session Three“, May 19, 2016, minutes 38-42).

[10] Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 4.

[11] Abdolkarim Soroush, Straight Paths, Serat, first edition, pp. 175-176.

[12] Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 117.

[13] Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, pp. 144-145.

[14] Tolerance and Management, p. 418.

[15] See the following evidence, which supports this claim:

First Evidence – “Prophets, who are not heedless, must live heedlessly, and those who know the secrets must appear as if they are unaware, and this is precisely a matter of reconciling opposites, which is not attainable for ordinary, common human beings. Prophets combine these two stations, and intellectuals, who prophet-like bear the burden of a trust and a mission, must have a share of this reconciliation of opposites” (Abdolkarim Soroush, Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, Serat, Fifth Edition, pp. 200-201). “Knowing the secret and yet living heedlessly of the secret is the prophetic way” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, p. 209).

Second Evidence – “It is not invalid if we consider the secret-knowing messengers as vigilant leaders and exemplars for intellectuals, and regard religious intellectualism as a kind of spectatorial role-playing or role-playing spectatorship, a combination of form and meaning or a combination of intoxication and decorum. Although this is rare and difficult, it is neither impossible nor beyond human capacity” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, p. 231).

Third Evidence – “What is relied upon is that a person, in the first degree, knows upon what principle and basis the world and people’s lives are founded and is aware of this ‘general heedlessness’ and its secret. In the second degree, he lives among these same people and does not abandon his conventional and ordinary life. And in the third degree, in a secret-knowing manner, he is a compassionate and caring guardian of the people. These three attributes together are the requisite of the divine prophethood of the messengers and the social mission of intellectuals” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, pp. 245-246).

Fourth Evidence – He considers guidance to be the province of religious intellectualism and, contrary to the clergy who subsist on religion, says that religious intellectualism must not subsist on religion. For guidance conflicts with interests: “Deriving personal enjoyment from guidance is an error” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, p. 14).

Fifth Evidence – “Intellectuals are responsible for steering the ship (and that in turbulent waters), while politicians manage the interior of the ship” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, p. 32).

Sixth Evidence – “One of the characteristics of religious intellectualism is that it does not subsist on religion. However, merely not subsisting on religion does not make one a religious intellectual. My point was that the matter of guidance must not be conditional upon recompense, because this act will destroy the effect of the work and guidance will find another direction” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, p. 48).

Seventh Evidence – “The work of intellectualism requires prophetic resolve, endeavor, and patience” (Razdani va Roshanfekri va Dindari, p. 66).

Eighth Evidence – Regarding the reasons for opposing “subsisting on religion”—which the clergy does and religious intellectualism does not—Soroush writes:

“One is that when religion and livelihood become aligned and people rest the ceiling of their subsistence upon the pillar of the Sharia, it will not be long before they lose their freedom in communicating the message, and their impassioned defense of religion will be tainted by a zealous defense of their livelihood, and the boundaries between subsistence and belief will blur, and ulterior motives will veil art, and guiding sincerity and compassion will give way to mercenary aims and greed, and tradesmen will take the place of lovers, and the path of the prophets, who were commanded and honored to guide without reward, will be emptied of wayfarers, and hired, imitative preachers, heeding the commands of their faith-peddling masters, will constrict the space for compassionate guides and free, truth-seeking scholars. Second, guidance ‘on condition of payment’ is not guidance at all. Guides, uttering ‘Rabbi yassir’ and chanting ‘Ihdina’s-sirat,’ engage in the weighty task of guidance solely out of compassion for creation and a passionate love for truth, with utmost patience and forbearance, and by enduring hardship and blame, and when they see a blind man and a well, they do not remain silent out of burning sympathy and pain, not that they first demand payment and then guide! Third, the profession of guidance should not be compared to the profession of physicians and other professionals…Vulgarization, which, in the words of the late Motahhari, is more dangerous than a scorpion’s sting, is that very chronic disease and incurable pain that has crippled a clergy subsisting on the common people, robbing them of their liberality and turning them into followers of the masses…Fourth…one who gives up his freedom to secure a means of living and sets out to sell a belief, what argument does he have against another who has also pledged allegiance elsewhere, taken his bread, and stirred up a commotion? One peddles Wahhabism and another peddles Shi’ism. Both are sellers, not guides” (Rāzdāni va Rowshanfekri va Dindāri, pp. 85-86).

Ninth Witness- “I declare here clearly and boldly that it is a great honor for religious intellectualism that, unlike the clergy, they did not subsist on religion and did not demand payment for communicating the message” (Rāzdāni va Rowshanfekri va Dindāri, pp. 96-97).

Tenth Witness- “It is as if the misguided should be guided only on the condition and at the time that one’s own life is secure. I do not know where the work of religions would have ended up and what form and substance the propagation of the divine call would have taken if the prophets had made such a condition with God for communicating the message…A religious scholar, too, must, like the Prophet, be eager for the guidance of believers and pained by their misguidance, and his motive for propagating the call must be that eagerness and this pain” (Modārā va Modiriyat, Serāt, p. 57).

[16] Bast-e Tajrobeh-ye Nabavi, p. 169.

[17] Bast-e Tajrobeh-ye Nabavi, p. 170.

Soroush further states on this matter: “In experiential or walāya-oriented religion, the personality of the Prophet is central and nothing can take its place…The experientially-minded believer distances himself from the religion of the common people and draws closer to the true religion. He enters under the shadow of God’s guardianship and presents himself to Him alone” (Bast-e Tajrobeh-ye Nabavi, p. 176). “The highest form of religiosity is the mystical, experientially-minded faith” ( Bast-e Tajrobeh-ye Nabavi, p. 196).

“Religion has come, first and foremost, to teach astonishing and supra-rational (i.e., trans-rational) truths… The primary and essential purpose of the prophets was to share secrets with us…To be astonished by secrets…is the very essence of the prophetic experience” ( Bast-e Tajrobeh-ye Nabavi, pp. 334-335).

[18] Bast-e Tajrobeh-ye Nabavi, p. 110.

[19] Abdolkarim Soroush, “Sonnat-e Rowshanfekri-ye Dini,” Madreseh, Bahman 1385, p. 19.

[20] Soroush spent years on God’s non-speaking nature. He said that in revelation, fundamentally: “there was no speech involved, because God does not speak. When we say God is a speaker, this is a figurative expression, not literal. Like any other attribute. When we also say God is merciful, that too is figurative, because mercy in the human sense of the word, the emotion of compassion, does not exist in God. We all say that God does not undergo changes of state. He does not experience a change of condition, whereas mercy is a human emotion that does undergo changes of state… meaning God is not a great human being. Here theology moves beyond its popular level” (“Prophets and Mystics,” July 7, 2012, minutes 100–102).

Or he says: “Speaking, talking—God does not speak—is a human characteristic… but for Him [God] Himself to speak, no. And therefore, any of these [human] attributes that are ascribed to God are figurative” (“Worshipping the Formless God,” September 2015, minute 47).

[21] Baha’ al-Din Khorramshahi, who had understood the fundamental meaning and consequences of Soroush’s claims regarding the “expansion of prophetic experience” and “revelation was subordinate to Muhammad,” says to Soroush: “Is there a hard core among the beliefs of Muslims, belief in which is an unquestionable necessity? In my view, one can extract from the heart of the Quran and the prophetic tradition items belief in which is essential to religiosity, and upon which the religious also have consensus.”

In response to Khorramshahi’s critique, Soroush defends the anthropomorphic personal God who chose the Prophet and conveyed His message through him to the people. He says:

“I have no doubt or dispute whatsoever about the Prophet being chosen, the descent of the angel upon him, and other such categories… I agree with your definition of prophethood. That is, I believe that God chooses certain individuals from among creation and, due to the talents and qualities they possess, grants them the office of prophethood, whispers hidden tidings into their ears, and bestows upon them a social mission” (Dialogue between Baha’ al-Din Khorramshahi and Abdolkarim Soroush, The Expansion of the Expansion of Prophetic Experience, Kiyan No. 47, pp. 4–11).

These are the views of the generality of Muslims. Even a philosopher like Mulla Sadra, with whose philosophical views Soroush apparently justifies his own views of the 2000s, has defended this same theory of revelation and prophethood in various places. Including in the exegesis of the verse “وَالَّذِینَ یُؤْمِنُونَ بِمَا أُنزِلَ إِلَیْکَ وَمَا أُنزِلَ مِن قَبْلِکَ…” (Al-Baqarah, 4)—Tafsir al-Quran al-Karim, vol. 1, pp. 295–302—and the verse “تَنزِیلٌ مِّن رَّبِّ الْعَالَمِینَ” (Al-Waqi‘ah, 80). In a section of the exegesis of this verse, he writes:

“Whenever the spirits of the prophets connect to their world—that is, the world of divine revelation—they hear the divine word, and hearing the divine word means the communication of truths through a real conversation between the prophetic spirit and the world of revelation; for this spirit has attained the station of proximity and the abode of truthfulness. And revelation is the real speech of God. In this way, the prophet becomes a companion to those angels, converses with them, and hears the sound of their footsteps… When he descends to the realm of the heavenly kingdom, the form he had seen on the tablet of his soul in the world of spirits becomes represented to him, and its effect becomes manifest outwardly, and at this moment a state resembling sleep or swooning overtakes the external senses… Thus the content of revelation, through the mediation of the angel, connects to the inner being and spirit of the prophet, and the prophet, with his sacred spirit, receives divine knowledge through the angel, witnesses the divine signs, and hears the true intellectual speech of God from the angel who is the Greatest Spirit. Then that angel becomes represented to him in a sensible form, and the speech of God appears in the form of ordered and audible sounds and letters, and the act and writing of God appear in the form of visible figures and numbers. Thus each of revelation and the angel becomes accessible to the prophet’s senses and perceptive faculties…” (Muhammad ibn Ibrahim Sadr al-Din Shirazi, Tafsir al-Quran al-Karim, edited by Muhammad Khwajavi, Bidar Publications, vol. 7, pp. 115-117).

In his commentary on verse 4 of Surah al-Baqarah, Mulla Sadra divides the reception of revelation into three kinds: seeing the imaginal form of Gabriel, witnessing the original form of Gabriel, and receiving revelation directly from God. Regarding the first level, he writes:

“But since the soul is still, by nature, in the abode of its estrangement and has not yet been stripped, nor have its skirts been completely lifted from its governing attachment to its bodily faculties and sensory armies, or because it has not been completely detached from the world of representation, even if it has been completely detached from the world of matter, its attainment, in what it attains according to that state and that degree, is the transformation of the angel bearing the revelation into a form represented in the likeness of a human person speaking divine words that are ordered and audible. As the Almighty said: ‘Then he represented himself to her as a well-proportioned man’ (Tafsir al-Quran al-Karim, vol. 1, pp. 299-300).

Regarding the second level of revelation, he writes:

“And perhaps the purity of the prophetic soul is more complete, and its detachment at certain times is stronger, and its authority over subduing bodily distractions and material preoccupations is greater, so that when it turns away from the world of sense and connects to the Holy Spirit, its intimacy with the substance of its abstract essence is more intense than with the represented likeness. Thus, with the eye of its rational essence, which has become intellect in actuality, it witnesses its sacred teacher and the one who brings it out from the limit of psychic, material potentiality to the limit of scientific perfection and formal intellect, and it derives knowledge and states from it while it is in its sacred form” (Tafsir al-Quran al-Karim, vol. 1, p. 301).

And regarding the third type, he says:

“And sometimes the prophet would attain a higher station where he no longer needed the mediation of anything between him and the First Origin, the Emanator upon all existence. In this state, he would hear the speech of God without an intermediary, as God has said: ‘Then he drew near and came down, until he was at a distance of two bow-lengths or nearer. Then He revealed to His servant what He revealed’ [Najm, 8-10] (Tafsir al-Quran al-Karim, vol. 1, p. 301).

The purpose of quoting Mulla Sadra’s words was to show that his God, in the interpretation of these verses, is a “personal, anthropomorphic, speaking God” who spoke in a literal sense and conveyed His words to His prophet—Muhammad. It should also be noted that Mulla Sadra wrote this commentary after al-Asfar and Mafatih al-Ghayb.

Soroush himself acknowledges that even from Rumi’s perspective, the selection of prophets was carried out by a speaking God. Regarding the Quranic account of the individual who was killed by Moses before his prophethood, he says:

“Rumi has a story about Moses for which I have not seen a historical source, but Rumi does not speak without foundation. He says Moses was a shepherd and tended a flock. A sheep fled from his flock, and Moses ran after that sheep from morning until evening, until at last both Moses and the sheep were exhausted and both stopped. Yet Moses showed no harshness or reproach to the lamb; instead, he took it in his arms, caressed it, and said to it, ‘You had no mercy on me, why did you have no mercy on yourself:’ گفت گیرم بر منت رحمی نبود / نفس تو بر خود چرا استم نمود. When God witnessed this event, He said to the angels, ‘Such a person is worthy of prophethood; one who is so merciful and compassionate:’ با ملائک گفت یزدان آن زمان / که نبوت را همی زیبد فلان. Therefore, although—in your words—a murderer became a prophet, this murderer also possessed such human qualities” (Abdolkarim Soroush, Siyasat-nameh, Serat, p. 247).

Rumi’s God is a personal, anthropomorphic, speaking God. The story of Moses and the Shepherd is another piece of evidence for this claim. In that story, which Rumi crafted and elaborated, the personal, anthropomorphic God enters into linguistic communication (a dialogue) with Moses. In Rumi’s view, God chose the prophets and conveyed His message to the people through them. Rumi goes so far as to call anyone who denies that the Quran is the Word of God a “kafir.”

[22] Soroush’s dream theory plays a key and strategic role in all his claims about revelation, prophethood, and the prophetic mission. Consider the following:

“In my writings, I have tried to make the issue of revelation very easy to digest and perhaps remove its complexities from it. At least for those who seek to understand the mystery and secret of revelation. And that is that I have reduced or likened revelation to a dream. And of course, this was not without reason or foundation. I have said that the revelation that came to the prophets was, in fact, like a dream they saw. It is similar to the dreams we also see. And in this way, understanding this phenomenon is actually facilitated. The idea that one thinks about how God speaks to certain people and recites in their ears—I think if each of us refers to our dreams, to our dreaming, we can to a large extent gain an understanding of this phenomenon. There is no one who has not seen a dream in their life, and in a dream, for instance, someone has not spoken to them. Has not seen a scene. And after the dream, for example, has not sought its interpretation and explication. Has not heard a dream from another. If you refer to the phenomenon of the dream itself, with which you are familiar, which is intertwined and mingled with your life, if you scrutinize it, dissect it, and analyze it, I believe you can to a large extent discover the truth of revelation” (“Q&A with Dr. Abdolkarim Soroush; University of Texas,” minutes 81-88 ).

“The ‘Say’s or the ‘We sent down’s do not mean that God said or sent down, but rather that the Prophet saw it in a dream. That is, ‘one level of his [Muhammad’s] psyche looked upon another level of his [Muhammad’s] psyche and counted this as a kind of sending down and revelation’” (The Method of Interpreting the Prophetic Dream, December 2014. Part One, minute 14 ).

“The Prophet produces the revelation. Revelation is, in fact, the Prophet’s composition. God created a personality, that is all. The rest is left to him” (BBC Pargar program, minutes 24-28 ). “The very existence of the Prophet is the revelation that God has made. God does not reveal to the Prophet; his very existence is the revelation” (minutes 53 and 54 ).

“The entire Qur'an is the Prophet's dream, in my view…the Prophet truly saw in a dream a human being, an angel, a devil, a command, and then refusal and disobedience, obedience—he observed all of these with ease, just like scenes that you and I see in a dream. 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 a depth altogether, has the necessary impact, and unveils the reality of our existence…In the Qur'an 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 Qur'an. Many commentators have said that the accursed tree which the Prophet saw in a dream refers to the Umayyads who would come later. Recently I saw one of our contemporary commentators who had made a good point, saying this accursed tree is the same forbidden tree that Adam was supposed not to eat from, 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, that there is a scene, a God, a devil and angels and so on and so forth, precisely. And now we must, through the interpretation and explanation of these dreams and these stories, arrive at the truths beyond them” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Six“, July 17, 2016, minutes 90-93).

“God did not speak and did not write a book; rather, a historical human being spoke and wrote a book in His place, and his speech was the same as His speech…It is not the case that Muhammad was addressed by voices and that words were recited into his inner ear and he was commanded to convey them…He was not told, go and tell the people God is one…He was not told, go and tell the people that God and the angels and the learned bear witness to God's oneness…He was not told, go and tell the people that there is a resurrection and a scale and a hell and a garden and a gathering of creatures and a spreading of books…He was not informed that everything glorifies God” (The Prophetic Dream 1).

The key point is that no being plays a role in a dream. All dreams are created by the dreamer themselves. This claim has been repeated many times by Soroush and leaves no room for doubt that, according to Soroush's view, Moses, Jesus, and Muhammad themselves created their own dreams, and God and the angels (Gabriel) played no role in their dreams. Consider the following:

“They say, I saw my late father in a dream. Firstly: it is your own self that takes the form of your late father, and you see yourself. Your late father is not somewhere that he could come into my dream or yours; ‘it is you,’ as Rumi says. When a person dreams, they go to themselves, by themselves. Our existence has several layers; one layer of our existence goes to another layer of our existence: ‘Thou art not one, O goodly friend / Nay, thou art a firmament and a deep sea. That mighty ‘Thou’ of thine, which has nine hundred layers, / Is the ocean whose depth is peril. When thou goest into sleep, / Thou goest from before thyself to before thyself.’ You go from before yourself to before yourself; you yourself say something in your own ear; you yourself appear in another form—in the form of your friend, your mother, your father—and you speak with yourself, and the next day you think they came and spoke with you” (Abdolkarim Soroush, Interpretation of Resurrection in the Theory of Prophetic Dreams, minutes 18:30 to 19:30 ).

Soroush says that he took this dream theory from Rumi and Ibn al-Farid:

“One is what Rumi says. The other is what Ibn al-Farid says. Both of them say almost the same thing, and they lived quite close to each other in terms of years. Rumi says: ‘When you go into sleep, / You go from yourself to yourself.’ When you sleep, you go from yourself to yourself. That is, to put it a bit more philosophically, you go from one level and layer of your existence to another layer of your existence. Then you talk to yourself. You yourself give form to those speakers. Then he says that you are not one; you have various layers, and you go from one to the other layers. Now, see, this is Rumi’s interpretation. I have relied more on this interpretation. Ibn al-Farid says exactly the same thing: that we talk to ourselves, we take on a form ourselves… This is, in fact, a journey that a person undertakes within themselves. Those who interpret dreams also think along these lines. That is, they do not come and say that someone came from outside and told you some things” (The Method of Interpreting the Prophetic Dream, December 2014. Part Two, Minutes 26-33 ).

In another speech, Soroush again repeats his claim that the entire Quran is Muhammad’s dreams and its verses must be interpreted as dreams, because the sun, moon, and fruits in dreams are not the same as those in wakefulness. One must see what their meaning is in a dream. He then says again about his dream theory:

“People, regarding the dreams they see, firstly think they pertain to the future. Secondly, they think that exactly what happened in the dream will also happen in the external world. You have seen many, for example, dream of their deceased father and think it is really their father. Rumi has come to our aid greatly here; he says that whoever you see in a dream is yourself. You yourself have taken on that form. Pay attention, and it is truly correct. That is, the person thinks their grandfather has gotten up and come; well, is the grandfather so idle as to come into their dream? And therefore, if you see your grandfather in a dream, its interpretation in almost one hundred percent of cases, except very rarely, is that you yourself took on the form of your grandfather and are talking to yourself about some things and such matters” (“Armed Neoliberalism” Minutes 115-116).

The questioner objects: how can a formless God be seen in a dream as a lion or other forms? Soroush replies:

“Look, those who saw the lion, it is not that they saw God in the form of a lion; they saw a lion, then they interpreted it, they construed it as having seen God. Not that they saw God in the form of a lion. They saw a lion, then they said this is its meaning. This is its interpretation. Or, for instance, they saw a bird with many wings, and they said this means an angel, not that the angel has several wings, six hundred thousand wings. In the way it has been said that the Prophet saw Gabriel with six hundred thousand wings. No, the meaning is that they interpreted this. But how they interpreted it, and how it is known that their interpretation is true? This goes back to how we recognize someone and how we know their interpretations. If it is a prophet, their interpretations are authoritative and valid, but this is not the case for others. They may also make false interpretations” (“Commentary on the Masnavi, Book One, Session Seven“, 1 August 2016, Minute 85).

In a recent speech, Soroush again emphasizes Rumi’s dream theory and says that I have used this theory in explaining revelation and prophethood. He says:

“Many people know the spirit through dreams. Not that, in a dream, your father, for instance, appears in someone’s dream, and they think the spirit has a form, just like that, if it exists. In the shape of a father, in the shape of a deceased mother, a grandfather. Well, see, Rumi himself tells us that these are yourself. These are not anyone’s spirit. ‘You, at the time when you fall into sleep / You go from yourself to yourself.’ When you go into sleep, you go to yourself. ‘You hear from another and think it is so-and-so’—you hear from another and think it is someone else. Whereas it is yourself; you are talking to yourself. This is one of those supremely wise points of Rumi’s that I have also made use of regarding revelation and prophethood. A human being, you see, has a multi-layered existence, so one layer of him speaks with another layer of him, and then his memory comes into play; the designs and forms that are in his memory come and give form, so to speak, to those formless things, and therefore you see someone who is talking to you, or you are talking to them, while it is you yourself who are speaking with yourself.” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Ten,” September 26, 2016, minutes 69–70).

[23] Some of the evidence for this claim is as follows:

“The absolutely formless is God.” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Nine,” August 28, 2016, minute 90).

Description: “The experiencing person is a form-giver who is not content with any form; they constantly carve, melt, and create new forms” (Abdolkarim Soroush, The Ethics of the Gods, Tarh-e No, p. 124).

Duty: “In the new world, we must continue the path of the prophets, that is, we must revive religious experiences and open the way for new religious discoveries to the people, so that upon them a new religious discourse befitting the age in which we live can be built, and those naked experiences may clothe themselves in the language of the age” (The Ethics of the Gods, pp. 131–132).

“Different religions are different formulations of that formless matter. One belongs to the Prophet of Islam, another to Jesus Christ, and so on… The relation of all forms to that absolute formless matter is one and the same” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 138).

“Can one transcend these forms or not? It must be said that this right is rationally preserved for individuals to give a new form to their formless experience” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 139).

“Those rare individuals who have had direct experience were not text-centered from the beginning… When you say we are moving away from text-centeredness, that is exactly the case” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 140).

“Conceptually and notionally, it is difficult to say that one form is superior to another, because the relation of that formless to all forms is equal” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 141).

“Prophets have rendered a great service to humanity, for they have offered several good, meaningful, and beneficial forms of the formless matter. The next step is to say that we have prophets who know they are prophets, and prophets who do not know they are prophets… We have prophets who have a mission, and prophets who do not have a mission. There are prophets who know they are prophets, and prophets who do not know they are prophets, and I think Buddha was among the prophets who did not know he was a prophet” (Dialogue between John Hick and Abdolkarim Soroush, “A Form upon the Formless,” Madreseh, Azar 1384, p. 53).

“All these cases belong to the category of the prophets projecting forms onto the formless. The prophets’ other teachings, including their words about death, resurrection, heaven, hell, Satan, and so on, also originated from their encounter with the formless. None of these teachings should be taken in their literal sense; rather, they must be considered metaphorical… If we do not imagine Satan in the form of a human being and consider it an idea indicative of the Prophet’s personal experience and his projection of form onto the formless, we have shed new light on the discussion” (Conversation between John Hick and Abdolkarim Soroush, “A Form upon Formlessness,” Madreseh, Azar 1384, p. 54).

“God is formless and His relation to all forms is equal… If we accept this principle (and we have no choice but to accept it), then we must necessarily believe that God manifests in several forms, and all forms have an equal relation to Him” (Abdolkarim Soroush, “Form upon Formlessness,” p. 57).

“It is not strange that one became the prophet of Islam, another the prophet of Judaism, and another the prophet of Christianity; they had different perceptions of the [formless] God. This is not strange; rather, it is supremely natural. And religions have been subject to the personalities of the prophets” (Abdolkarim Soroush, “Untarnished Mirrors,” p. 62).

“It is you who give form to this formless… In that very important ghazal, Rumi says: ‘I am a painter, a maker of forms, every moment I fashion an idol / Then before You, I melt all the idols away. I conjure a hundred forms, I infuse them with spirit / But when I behold Your form, I cast them into the fire.’ He manifests himself as a painter, a maker of forms, an idol-maker who creates and destroys. I create and destroy. Well, every agent, every cause is like this. The reed flute is one of the best symbols for how we give form to something that is essentially and inherently formless” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Eight,” August 14, 2016, minutes 35–37).

[24] See the eighth series of questions and answers:

“Mohammad’s question: If God has no purpose for creation and we are the crystallization of His existence… then what is the purpose of sending prophets and the prophetic mission? Doesn’t this matter seem somewhat purposeful?”

Soroush’s answer: “God does not send prophets. They arise by themselves, just as grasses grow green by themselves and volcanoes erupt by themselves. However, since all real events are creations of God, we attribute everything to God, including the purposiveness of the prophets. The prophets’ religious experience also tells them that their work is pleasing to God.”

[25] In the tenth series of questions and answers, Ehsan, referring to the answer we quoted in the previous footnote, asks: What, then, is the difference between prophets and guides like Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela, Chomsky, Žižek, and even you yourself, Dr. Soroush? Soroush writes in response:

“Prophets possess self-awareness and certainty of their own prophethood. This is their difference from other guides.”

In the article “The Expansion of Prophetic Experience,” Soroush had also stated that as a result of attaining religious experience (i.e., dreaming), prophets themselves “feel a new mission and become a new person, and this new person builds a new world and a new humanity” (The Expansion of Prophetic Experience, p. 4).

[26] “Q&A with Dr. Abdolkarim Soroush; University of Texas,” Minute 118.

[27] See a few examples of his apostolic dreams:

Soroush claims that in the year 1376 (1997), he “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 that I was at our house, we had a basement where my room was, my library was there, I would go there during the days and I was alone and had solitude, I would study, I would 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 but things were constantly falling from it, falling, falling, 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 logically be much more than that. The first thing that came to my mind after this event was this poem by Rumi: ‘Form came forth from formlessness / Then it returned, for “Unto Him we are returning.”’ I saw that it was as if there is something from which forms are constantly falling, constantly, in the form of two opposites mounted on something, they separate from it one by one, and this becomes purer and purer, and higher. As if clothes are gradually being stripped from its body. And this becomes more naked, more naked. I had read this poem of Rumi’s many times and, by God, I did not understand its meaning. It was following that event that I understood this poem 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 conducted those discussions on ‘Form and Formlessness’.” (“Worship of the Formless God“, Minutes 35-38 ).

Soroush has recounted this dream many times. For example, see the lecture below:

“For instance, this ‘Form came forth from formlessness,’ which is in Rumi’s verses and is among his most important teachings, I suspect it may have been taken from Buddhist ideas. I once recounted, I recounted here for you, that I myself understood the meaning of this verse through yoga exercises. And I think that perhaps Rumi did too. Now, God forbid, I am not comparing him to myself, but it is not unlikely that sometimes, through this path you take, it grants you access to some meanings and themes, these things exist. In my view, Rumi shared a horizon with people like Buddha. That is, they were speaking the same language. They shared a horizon. And they were conversing, their eyes were almost fixed on the same point. The problem might be said that one borrowed from the other. In some places, it can be said—as our mystics say—they were partners in each other’s tastes” (“Commentary on the First Book of the Masnavi – Session Four“, June 5, 2016, minutes 81-83).

“I am not a poet, but I have occasionally committed a few lines of poetry. Sometimes poetry just comes to my mind all of a sudden, I recite it, all at once, fluently, sometimes 10 couplets, 15 couplets, very easily, and sometimes I see poetry in my sleep, some of the poems I have, I saw in my sleep, they were told to me, now, don't go saying tomorrow that so-and-so has claimed prophethood” (“Q&A with Dr. Abdolkarim Soroush; University of Texas,” Minute 107 ).

He says he has smelled the scent of God. He has seen the Prophet in a dream. He is one of the friends of God and:

“The Prophet is a friend of God; being a friend means being the very proof of one's own command and word” ( The Expansion of the Prophetic Experience, p. 133). “The relationship of friendship is religion-making. The one who warms and illuminates the believer is his friend and his prophet” (The Ethics of the Gods, p. 153).

Soroush has also introduced himself as a “knower of secrets” and in various sessions has recounted secrets to his audience. At the same time, he says that revelation is nothing but the knowledge of secrets:

“What is revelation? Revelation is the very knowledge of secrets, nothing else. When prophets receive revelation, when the friends of God receive revelation, secrets are whispered in their ears. Now, whispering in their ears is a figurative expression, in any case, they are informed, they understand. God Himself is the most secret of secrets, the Secret of Secrets. And these secrets remain forever indefinable. Their expression always becomes paradoxical… And so when Moses confronted God and God said to him, 'I am the one speaking to you,' as it is in the Torah, somewhat more briefly in the Quran, then Moses said to God, 'When I go to my people, what shall I tell them about who spoke to me? How shall I describe the story? Who are You who addresses me? Who is speaking to me?' What was God's answer? According to what is in the Torah, 'I am that I am.' You see, this is the very expression of mystery. 'I am that I am,' He did not say, 'I am the Creator,' He did not say, 'I am the All-Hearing,' He did not say, 'I am the All-Seeing.' If He had said these things, it would have left the realm of mystery and taken on a form. It would have found a definition. He said, 'I am that I am.' 'I am who I am' is a poem in Hebrew. There is no definition, no form, no concept here with which you could constrain or depict this with a mental concept; there is no such thing. This is a secret, then; this secret can be interpreted until the Day of Resurrection. 'I am that I am,' this can be interpreted until the Resurrection as to what this statement means. What did Moses receive there that he later made such an interpretation? He came and said, 'This is what I was told; the one who spoke to me introduced Himself this way'… Religions are entirely founded upon secrets. If we take these secrets away from them, nothing remains but a set of dry rituals” (“Commentary on the Masnavi – Book One – Session Eight,” minutes 69-73 ).

[28] Abdolkarim Soroush, “Hark, say that my fortune has triumphed.” Elsewhere he has also said that if religious intellectualism—meaning Soroush—did not exist, nothing would remain of religion and religiosity. For example, he says:

“Religious intellectualism in our society has, in fairness, become very active, and its productions are suitable nourishment for the youth of this land. And this religious intellectualism, I say explicitly, is the last station for the youth; if they pass beyond this, neither vine nor vineyard will remain, and profit and capital will burn together” (Abdolkarim Soroush, The Ethos of Kingship and Religiosity, Serat, p. 271).

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Soroush's Theory of Prophethood – Soroush the Prophet (1)

Author: Akbar Ganji | 9 November 2016

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Signs of Religion-Making – Soroush the Prophet (2)

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