Signs on the Horizons

by Michael Sugich

  A short time later, I was introduced to the woman who became my wife. She was from Makkah Al-Mukarramah. Her father was a mutawif, or pilgrim guide, and she grew up in Al-Jiyad, across the street from the Kaaba. We married but did not settle in Saudi Arabia for three years. There were some legal problems that kept us away from the country. I longed to visit Makkah, to make Hajj and Umrah, to see the Holy Kaaba with my eyes.

  After my wife and I were married, we lived for a time in Egypt and then we moved to California. During that period, I had another dream in which Sayyid Omar appeared. At this point I had not seen him for years. In the dream I was standing near the Mount of Safa in the mas’a (the track between the mounts of Safa and Marwa) within the Holy Mosque in Makkah. I had never been to Makkah at this point and I had never seen the mas’a, even in photographs. I had no idea what it looked like in real life. But here I was in my dream, wrapped in ihram at the foot of the mount of Safa. The atmosphere was crowded and effulgent. From out of the crowd, Sayyid Omar emerged. He approached me, smiling, gestured and said my Muslim name, "Haroon". That was all. When finally I did arrive in Makkah and made umrah (the lesser pilgramage) and performed the sa’ee (the ritual of seven circuits between the mounts of Safa and Marwa) for the first time, it was exactly as I had seen it in the dream. And still later I performed umrah with Sayyid Omar many times, standing in exactly the same spot as I had in my dream.

  We eventually settled in Makkah and I was blessed to reside for 23 years within the precincts of this sacred city and God, in His Infinite Generosity, has allowed me to continue visiting His House, even though I have done nothing to deserve this blessing and remain completely unworthy of any of the gifts I have received.

  Once we had settled in Saudi Arabia, I searched for other Sufis. Although I found isolated fuqara living in Makkah, the only regular circle of remembrance I discovered was held in Jeddah by Omar Kamel, the brother of Saudi tycoon Saleh Kamel. Although anyone could attend, this was a rich man’s gathering, held in a special courtyard attached to Omar's mansion in Jeddah. It was pleasant, the food was excellent and, from time to time a truly great Sufi would attend. But, unlike the gatherings I had grown accustomed to in Morocco, Egypt, and elsewhere, these assemblies were mild, tentative and self-conscious. This was to some extent because the practice of Sufism was suppressed by the religious authorities in Saudi Arabia. The Sufi traditions of majlis (gatherings of invocation) and mawlid (celebrations of the Prophet Mohamed, peace be upon him) had been largely eradicated. Moreover, since the uprising in the Holy Mosque of Makkah in 1979, all religious gatherings of any kind were more or less forbidden or at least closely watched.

  Every evening after the majlis, Omar’s rich business friends would sit on raised benches (dhikkas) and talk about business, their travels, deluxe hotels they stayed in and restaurants in Europe they dined at. They were decent and devout men with the best of intentions, but the gatherings were a dim shadow of the true Sufi majalis. And I am eternally grateful for them because, it was on one of these nights that I was re-united with Sayyid Omar.

  I saw him sitting in the assembly. At first I thought I might be hallucinating. When I realized he really was present, I rushed over to sit down beside him. I reminded him of our meeting in London years before and told him about my dreams. When I told him about flying he said with typical modesty, "You are lucky. I wish I could fly." From that moment we were inseparable whenever he was in Saudi Arabia.

  He was still, at that point, serving the Comorean government, by this time as an adviser to the President, Ahmed Abdullah, who had seized power in a coup d’etat led by French mercenaries. However, his relations with Abdullah were not good and, although he never said anything directly about the president, he clearly held a very low opinion of him. Once when I was sitting with Habib Ahmed Mashhur Al-Haddad, he mentioned that Ahmed Abdullah was one of his disciples. I reported this to Sayyid Omar and he replied dryly, "He's lucky that Habib considers him a disciple”. Ahmed Abdullah was subsequently killed in another coup d’etat.

  Eventually Sayyid Omar left government service and took a position with the World Muslim League as a roving emissary. He was recommended to the post by Prince Saud Al-Faisal, the long-serving Saudi Foreign Minister, who had known Sayyid Omar when he was the Comorean Ambassador. He took the job to support his family. He never asked anyone for anything, yet many of his followers would give him gifts of money. He never spent any money on himself but saved everything he was given by admirers to provide for his family. I was once helping him get ready for travel, sorting through his documents and personal effects and discovered thousands of dollars worth of currency in many denominations, in wads of cash, stuffed into his pockets, wallet and suitcase. He never touched any of this money. He built a two-story house in Moroni for his wife. He rarely spent any time himself living in it. He was always in a state of travel. He had two daughters. One lived in Jeddah with her Tanzanian husband, Dr. Omar Saleh, who was a very kind and gentle physician employed at Bugshan Hospital.

  Once Sayyid Omar came to learn a wealthy admirer had given him money that had been allocated for zakat, the obligatory tax on wealth meant to be distributed to the poor. While he was far from affluent, Sayyid Omar was also not poor. He was very upset when he discovered this and took all the money, which was a rather large sum, and distributed it to the poor. I remember that this was the only time I actually saw him visibly unsettled. He couldn’t wait to rid himself of this money, which he considered to be unlawful.

  It was my great good fortune that he would come to Saudi Arabia and stay for months at a time. When he was in Makkah, he would stay at my home. We turned our living room into his bedroom when he was with us. I spent every available moment with him. In the years that I was with him I learned as much from his presence and behavior as from his words.

  I never saw him lose his temper. Actually, I did, once...sort of. We were standing in a crowd waiting for an office building to open in Jeddah and a rude young man pushed his way roughly through the crowd, knocking everyone in his path aside. To my astonishment, Sayyid Omar ripped into the fellow, rebuking him for his bad behavior. I’d never seen him do anything like that in all the years I’d been with him. He must have noticed my surprise because when he turned to me he smiled, and without a trace of ire, said, "Imam Shafi'i said, 'He who is made angry and doesn’t get angry is a donkey.’”

  He never spoke ill of anyone, although at times he would make it clear that he didn’t care for someone. If asked whether he wanted to see a particular person that he did not have a high regard for he would respond with a terse and final "No." That was as negative as he ever got.

  He was one of the most patient men I have ever known. He would sometimes wait for a year before receiving his salary from the World Muslim League. I used to take him to World Muslim League headquarters in Makkah to try and collect what was owed to him. He would sit patiently for day after day after day, always pleasant, never losing his temper. He was run from pillar to post and yet he never complained and was always polite and respectful to everyone he dealt with.

  His beautiful character, knowledge, charm and sophistication gained him acceptance in any company. Even the Salafiya (the followers of Mohamed ibn Abdul Wahhab and Ibn Taymiyya who dominate religious life in Saudi Arabia and some other Gulf countries and reject the practice of Sufism) embraced him.

  Sayyid Omar was the most eloquent living interpreter of classical Sufi doctrine in the English language and he was a tremendous conversationalist. Yet he never left a gathering without repeating the Prophet’s invocation: Subhanaka Allahumma wa bi Hamdika Wash-hadu an la ilaha ilia anta astaghfiruka wa atoobu ilayk. ("Glory be to You O God, and Praise to You and I witness that there is no god but You. I ask your forgiveness and I turn to you.”) Of this invocation the Prophet, peace be upon him, said: "Whosoever is sitting in a company and indulges in much idle talk, but before rising says…, his talk shall be forgiven.” I found this to be one of his most impressive qualities. He nev
er forgot that he was in the presence of God. For 30 years I have tried to follow his example, but I still find it a struggle to retain the awareness of God to remember this simple invocation after engaging in conversation.

  If he had a consistent message it was one of tolerance, for human frailty, for other beliefs, for weakness and wrong action in others. He once said, "You have to be very careful about defining someone as an unbeliever (kafir). A kafir is someone who has received the Message, understood it and then rejected it. Most non-Muslims have not received the Message, fewer still understand it. Even many Muslims haven’t received and understood the Message.”

  We were sitting together once and he said, "If you read the Qur'an with great care, you will understand that most people go to Paradise.” He gave everybody a way in. We once sent him to America on a speaking tour, which was very successful. After one of his talks, a young American woman came up to him and said, "I love what you said and I think I should become a Muslim but, you see, I’m a stripper.” Without missing a beat Sayyid Omar grinned and said, "Well, don't let that stop you." She said happily, "Yes, I'll become a Muslim and then I know I'll give it up.” He didn’t admonish her for what she was doing, but encouraged her to something better.

  He once said, "Westerners have the greatest capacity to accept and follow the Path in our time because they have no preconceptions, they understand the value of time and they use their intellect. The only thing they have going against them is that they have built up bad habits.” I found this to be true. While it was easy for me to comprehend and accept Sufi doctrine and practice the discipline (suluk), I felt weighed down by deeply ingrained impulses from my misspent youth. Habib Omar and I were travelling through the Gulf together. I was away from my wife and, after a time, started to be troubled by lust (shahwa). Over dinner one evening I asked him if, as a young man living in Europe, he was ever overcome by feelings of lust, hoping he would give me some advice as to how to deal with this distraction. He looked up and said without hesitation, "No." His upbringing had protected him.

  Still, he had incredible empathy for ordinary people. A young Comorean working in Jeddah who knew Sayyid Omar told me that when he gave discourse in Moroni, all the cafés and bars would empty out and throngs of young people would flock to come to hear him speak. He was the spiritual equivalent of a rock star in East Africa.

  On another occasion, when he was in London, the Imam of the Regent's Park Mosque called him in a panic. He said, "We have a serious problem and we need your help. We don’t know what to do! Can you come with us?" They took Sayyid Omar to Harley Street to the office of a physician. He was an older man, in his late fifties. Habib sat down with him and said, "How can I help you?" The physician said, "Over the years I have treated many Muslims and, through them, have come to love and respect Islam and I believe it is true and I believe I should become a Muslim.” Sayyid Omar said, "That is very good. So what's the problem?" The Imam looked to Sayyid Omar as if to say, "Just wait until you hear this." The physician responded, "Well, I know that a Muslim is expected to pray five times a day. But I am old and set in my ways and I am very busy with my practice. In all honesty I can't guarantee that I will be able to keep to the five prayers." Sayyid Omar said, "Go on." The physician continued, "Also, I know that one is expected to fast the month of Ramadan. I simply can’t perform the fast.” The Imam looked to Sayyid Omar as if to say, "You see what I mean?" Sayyid Omar said, "Is there anything else?" The good doctor said, "Yes. For the last 30 years every evening I have a glass of sherry. I know this is frivolous and I know that Muslims are not permitted to drink but I honestly don’t think I can give up my glass of sherry in the evening. I’m sorry." Sayyid Omar said, "Is there anything else?" The doctor said, "No, I think that's about it. What do you advise?" Sayyid Omar said, "There are many Muslims who fail to perform the five prayers and who don't fast the month of Ramadan and there are many Muslims who drink alcohol and there have been since the time of the Prophet Mohamed, peace and blessings be upon him. These are men and women who were born as Muslims, who believe in Islam and who are accepted as Muslims so my advice is to accept Islam and do the best that you can. You are welcome in Islam.” The good doctor became a Muslim.

  In Sufi literature, in the diwans of the saints, in circles of knowledge, there is much talk of very advanced spiritual states, of annihilation in God (fanafillah), of subsistence in God (baqabillah), of exalted stations (maqamat) and illuminations. I felt that much of this was lost on me. When I was young I never imagined that I could possibly attain these spiritual heights. So I asked Sayyid Omar why it was that we are encouraged to desire knowledge that seems to be out of reach for most people. He replied that God is so immensely generous that He gives His servants everything that they ask for, even if only at the moment of death. He would relate the saying of his shaykh regarding the acquisition of spiritual knowledge: "The later, the better."

  He took me everywhere with him, into the presence of some of the greatest saints of the time. Without being in his company I could never have had access to these men.

  I would accompany Sayyid Omar on visits to the great Makkan Sufi educator and spiritual guide Sayyid Mohamed Alawi Mal i k i, who was the son of the Sufi shaykh Sayyid Alawi Maliki. Sayyid Mohamed Alawi had a huge following in Saudi Arabia and across Southeast Asia and elsewhere but he was anathema to the Wahhabi establishment who managed to have him relieved of his teaching post at Umm Al-Qurra University. Sayyid Mohamed Alawi symbolized everything the Salafis loathed. He openly practiced Tasawwuf, he was incredibly popular, he wrote books praising the Prophet Mohamed and extolling the virtues of Mawlid, or the celebration of the birth of the Prophet Mohamed. After successfully driving him from his position at Umm Al-Qurra University, the religious establishment sought to have his books banned from Saudi Arabia. They wanted to publicly burn his books. The conflict reached a crisis point and King Fahd felt the need to step in. On one of Sayyid Omar’s visits Sayyid Mohamed Alawi confided to him that he had a private meeting with the King, who asked him why he couldn’t simply fall into line with what the religious authorities wanted. Sayyid Mohamed Alawi replied that he could not conceal what he knew to be true and made a reasoned argument to the King for his positions. The King said, "I respect your reasoning. The only thing I ask from you is that you refrain from holding public mawalid.” Sayyid Mohamed Alawi agreed to keep his gatherings private. And the King said, "From now on if anyone from the scholars attacks you, tell them that I am your protector.”

  Through his travels Sayyid Omar had built a network of friends and admirers. Wherever he went people of the Path vied to host him. I felt very lucky that he always chose to stay with me in Makkah. He would often teach me indirectly. I have a tendency to overwork myself into a state of exhaustion and ennui. During one of these periods, Sayyid Omar would muse to no one in particular, "It is amazing how people lose the taste for life by working too much." Once when we were driving between Jeddah and Makkah, I mentioned that I was a follower of the Maliki School (madhhab). Sayyid Omar laughed and said, "You don't know enough to have a madhhab. Just practice Islam." He would rarely lay claim to knowledge. Instead, he would credit his teachers or the great Sufis in history.

  During one Ramadan Sayyid Omar was staying with me in Makkah. I noticed that he was sleeping heavily through the day. At first I put this down to a combination of age, fasting and his celebrated love of sleep, but as the days wore on and he never seemed to revive, I became concerned. I called his son-in-law Dr. Omar Saleh. He asked me to bring his father-in-law in for a checkup. It was then I learned that he had long been suffering from diabetes and had gone into diabetic shock. For all the years I had been with him, he never once mentioned his illness and I realized that he had also not taken care of himself properly. For one thing, in the seething Saudi heat he drank cold soft drinks throughout the day. Once he had recovered I admonished him for drinking sugary drinks. He honestly didn’t know that they could be lethal for a diabetic. I bought cases of diet dri
nks to replace the sugar drinks he liked. This was in the 1980s in Saudi Arabia when diet soft drinks were just being introduced into the market, so it is understandable why he had not really been aware that there was an alternative.

  From then on his condition was never far from my thoughts. One of Sayyid Omar’s devoted students, Dr. Ali Hassan Mwinyi, was elected President of Tanzania. When the President made an official visit to Saudi Arabia he invited his professor to visit him in the official Guest Palace in Jeddah. The Guest Palace is a strange place. Originally built as an Intercontinental Hotel, it was acquired by the government by order of the King when it came to his attention that the hotel overlooked his offshore island palace then under construction. It was converted to an official guest palace for foreign dignitaries and other government guests. Although designed like a hotel, it was guarded and vacant or seemed so when the two of us passed through security to ascend to the President’s suite.

  We sat with Dr. Mwinyi, who was very welcoming and who clearly revered Sayyid Omar. The meeting was uneventful but it was, in some sense, a turning point. After his diabetic attack, Sayyid Omar’s health began to deteriorate. It wasn’t that he became overtly ill, but his energy dwindled and his great joy of life receded. My flat in Makkah occupied the whole top floor of a building without an elevator. Sayyid Omar took longer and longer to negotiate the stairs but he did so without complaint. One evening I noticed that he seemed uncharacteristically pensive and quiet. I said, "Would you like to come out to the roof garden to get some air.” He smiled, shook his head and said, "I've had enough air."