A Complete Dip in the Ocean (and how to get it)


“Some of the great spiritual music of the world, rarely heard but strangely familiar – its thousand year-old tradition must have influenced a Northern Europe coming out of the dark ages -played and sung here by today’s greatest exponents,this is sublime
music for the heart, body and soul ”
RICHARD THOMPSON

“Pure baraka, as if the depths of the ocean itself
had burst into song”   
DANIEL ABDALHAYY MOORE

My very first post ever on this blog, almost a year ago, was about A Dip in the Ocean, a recording I put out ten years ago, just after 9/11, of Moroccan Andalusi music and singing recorded in Larache, on the Moroccan coast just south of Tangiers. I’m now making it available for anyone who sends me, by Paypal, the sum of £10 sterling or its equivalent to the following email address:

cwdm.qasida@gmail.com

This is pretty modest considering it is the equivalent of 3 CDs and includes an hour of new audio from the same performance recorded at the same time. The mp3s are maximum bit rate (320) and it’s indistinguishable from the original AIFF files. Once paid I will send two files by Sendspace.com (it’s pretty simple to deal with). You will then a get a link sent to your email address. I was looking forward to making a 3CD set for sale but it’s just too expensive to manufacture and I thought this might be preferable as it’s immediate and quality wise the same and much cheaper. Also I don’t like automatic and impersonal download sales like Itunes and am interested to know who is buying and listening to it. The new hour of music actually precedes the released album so you can set it up in your Itunes in that sequence and then listen to the whole lot at one go. The new material is pretty stunning and is really the warm up before the main course played later in the evening.

I have tracked the original album as the lack of tracking was criticised in the original. I didn’t manage to track the bonus audio. Frankly its the kind of thing you want to play from beginning to end anyway, as that is how we experienced it live.

As soon as I can I will try and add the liner notes from the original CD set as it might explain the event to those who didn’t see the original.

Here is a short sample (over 7 minutes) of part of the Bonus tracks. It’s the overture before the main set which started later after the Fes Singers Muhammad Bennis and his brother Abdal Fatah arrived.

sample bonus dip in the ocean

Posted in miscellaneous, music, religion, tassawuf | 7 Comments

Purification of the Heart Revisited

The second edition of Hamza Yusuf’s Purification of the Heart is shortly to be printed, eight years after it’s first impression.

It has been completely re-typeset in a typeface named Quadraat which was selected as Sandala’s house style ten years ago, when Sandala brought out the Burda of Imam Busiri 3CD set and book. The first edition of Purification was published by Starlatch and not designed by myself (apart from the cover), whereas this new version is all my own work. Whilst competently done, the first version used a face called Jenson in rather too small a point size for comfort. Jenson, a classic text face was designed over 50o years ago by Nicholas Jenson, a French designer working in Venice, the California of print at the time. It’s a beautiful face with a low x-height, that is, the distance from the base line to the height of typically the letter e. This misleads typesetters who might use 12pt type thinking it has the characteristics of say Bembo at the same point size which has a much higher x-height and appears larger.

The introduction to this new edition has been updated and parts have been rewritten but otherwise it is the same apart from textual corrections and in my opinion, in its new font, easier to read. It will also be available as an e-book although I prefer the pdf version. On an ipad the pdf seems to work much better and doesn’t mangle up the typography like the e-book format tends to do (the pdf won’t be available for various reasons). The only forgiving aspect of e-books (see a previous post) is that it enables dislexics and those hard of seeing to read it better.

Redesigning the book meant I got  to re-read much of the text. Generally I don’t comment much about the books I work on as I like to think of myself as just a hired gun available to all and sundry. This is not a very good policy in practice, as any designer (or proof reader, printer or bookseller come to that) has to discriminate, otherwise you find yourself working on very undesirable material. Some years ago, being somewhat green, I was bidding for a job which turned out to be the Wahabi bible, so to speak. I had no idea until it was pointed out to me.

Most of the books I work on happen to be of a pretty exalted nature and in the last 25 years I have been fortunate, you might say blessed, to work on three or four Qur’ans, numerous collections of hadith, two Burdas and seemingly countless books by some of the great scholars and mystics of Islamic history from Ibn Arabi to Ibn Ata’illah and many modern scholars, writers and poets, let alone all the corporate work for fledgling universities and publishing houses of the nascent muslim universe in the English speaking world. I never set out to do this actually. It  just happened.

I have a great regard for this book, Purification of the Heart, as, like no other text, the Matharat al-Qulub of Ibn Mawlud (the Mauritanian poem on which the book is based) seems to get right behind the divine mechanisms of human behaviour and exposes the real cause of the ills of humans and society. It makes the arena of psychology seem like a plastic Lego science by comparison. Hamza’s commentary on the poem is based on a series of talks he made many years ago in Zaytuna Institute and is imbued with that crisp quality of his live discourse.

There will be a revised edition coming out next year (I am told) with additional material, and you’ll read about it first here for sure.

Visit www.sandala.org for more info.

Distribution in the UK won’t be till next year but the idea of signed copies the publishers are considering. They like the idea. There are practical considerations.

Posted in typography / design | 5 Comments

Mohamed Zakariya, Calligrapher

The 20th May just gone was Mohamed Zakariya’s 7oth birthday. He is not that well known outside the rarified atmosphere of Ottoman calligraphers but he has had a great measure of influence on people like myself over the years. His birthday was celebrated by a small group of his students in DC last Sunday which I was unable to attend but I want to record here something of his work and my own encounters with him. He is a fully fledged American, growing up in Santa Monica, California, where he taught himself arabic whilst working in a machine shop. But it was arabic calligraphy that became his forte. But he only achieved his  ijaza in the art, fairly late in his life. I clearly remember him telling me that after he began his studentship with Celebi, his master teacher in Istanbul, that all his earlier work was ‘no good’ or ‘rubbish’…I don’t remember the exact words. I know how he felt as I have often felt like that myself about much of what I do, but I would be quite happy with some of his cast off ‘rubbish’.

I first met Mohamed Zakariya in 1975 (or thereabouts) at his house in Washington DC where he gave me a rapid introduction to the fine art of Ottoman arabic calligraphy. I still have the page he wrote for me then (illustrated left). It was the first of many calligraphic pieces by him which I have accumulated over time as well as beautifully written letters and artwork (as well as, interestingly, some blocks of Eid postage stamps that he created for the US postal service). In 1975 there was little or no market for a calligrapher in the west, no matter how good,  and Zak (as I shall refer to him) was having to build kitchens at the time to make ends meet. But his house was an Aladdin’s cave of not only his calligraphy but working brass astrolabes and astronomical instruments, fine crafted boxes of pens, knives and burnishers and pens, cupboards, tables, beds, all made by him with non-electrical tools. All of it glowing with a kind of Ottoman magic.

He was the first proof I had that it was possible to produce high quality art and craft from scratch i.e. from basic materials. He said at our first meeting that the best ink, pen and paper you will ever use is the ink, the pen and the paper you make and prepare yourself. The same applied to pigmented colour and the use of gold leaf. This is a wonderful paradigm for self sufficiency but not as some kind of Luddite revenge on technology. It was really that the paper, the ink, the paper you made yourself really is better and that we have all been shortchanged by the commercial dumbed down equivalent that you buy in Rymans or Kincos or whoever your local art suppliers are. Because it is possible to be in control of the process from beginning to end it gives the calligrapher an overview of the whole process enabling him (or her) to refine, control and perfect the end result. When the veil is lifted you see suddenly how in the last hundred and fifty years the process of paper making, pen and ink production has been utterly usurped and commercialised in the name of convenience, not really to improve writing, but to make money. In recent years of course it has meant the wholesale abandonment of handwriting as an art.

Obviously we cannot expect everyone to make and prepare paper, pens and ink, or write brilliant calligraphy but neither should we wish that this knowledge is lost. I have always asked students of mine what would happen if tomorrow it all collapsed and you couldn’t buy these very things. Would life as we know it continue? If you value knowledge and its preservation and dissemination you will appreciate why this is a useful and almost obligatory knowledge to acquire. Zak seemed to have tapped a rich well of this knowledge and, as I said, I have personally benefitted greatly down the years from his researches and his example.

In my own line of of work, knowledge of calligraphy and its supporting crafts is vital, even though I myself have never qualified with ijaza in the Ottoman calligraphic craft. I went so far with it and only do it badly, but it did open my eyes to that world like nothing else ever could have done. To do it well is difficult and requires years of practice and guidance.

Above: Laqadja akum rasulun min an fusikum. An early piece of Qur’an by MZ.

It also opened my eyes to the whole history of arabic calligraphy and by extension, the whole history of writing. Ottoman calligraphy is the high art of arabic calligraphy but if you look at particularly kufic and andalusi calligraphic styles you can follow graphically the whole history of the spread of Islam across North Africa from Arabia into Spain. As I found my home in the Andalusi calligraphic styles, I also found my actual home in Andalusia. It makes complete sense. The style is also a lot easier than Ottoman calligraphy and in my opinion a better model handwriting for the general public who find Thuluth, Naskh, Muhaqqaq etc far too exacting. The public will say it is only for the experts and abandon any attempt to write beautifully.

The Andalusians were less fussy about their calligraphy. It was primarily functional although for such things as Qur’an and poetry it would be beautified. Writing was principally for recording and disseminating information, translations, religious, legal and scientific works long before printing was ever a reality. This is why you don’t find very often calligraphy as wall decoration in Spain and Morocco as you do in Turkey and elsewhere, but mostly in books and manuscripts. It did appear in buildings as in the Alhambra and the great mosque in Cordoba, but very restrained.  Zak knows this writing style and you will see his Andalusi script published in books like the cover of the Aqida of Imam Tahawi (below) and the text of the Burda of Busiri (left) from Zaytuna and Sandala respectively.

The Andalusi styles are much more personal than the Ottoman scripts which are extremely disciplined even though to the trained eye the style of a particular Ottoman calligrapher can be detected. But the Andalusi style allows for much more personal interpretation. I can detect Zak’s hand in both Ottoman and Andalusi styles. It has a kind of flair to it that I honestly find a bit lacking in some of the middle eastern masters. He puts life into it.

There is a link to his web site on the side bar.

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Not About Typography

This isn’t about typography, or music. File under personal jottings.

As a confirmed expat, my umbilical link to the old country is through my computer, like probably millions of other expats. Whilst tapping on my laptop a few days ago, out popped the disembodied voice of Abdal Hakim Murad (aka Tim Winter – left), the Muslim Cambridge University teacher and writer, in his Thought for the Day slot, early on BBC’s Radio 4 morning Today programme. It was a tribute to Khalil “Ken” Dale, the aid worker (a male nurse in fact) for the Red Cross, who was killed by persons unknown in that anarchic part of north Pakistan near Quetta, because of the non-payment of a ransom. I knew Khalil fairly well myself back in the 1990s when we worked in the same building in London. He had already been awarded an MBE for his work in Somalia.

His naturally slightly shy manner belied the courageous man he really was. He assigned himself to the most dangerous places in the world without a second thought. I think he was a man of destiny who somehow knew he might meet an untimely death, not that anyone’s death is untimely. Quite the contrary. As some air travellers were quoted as saying just a week ago, as they believed their Easyjet plane was to going crash over the Alps, “we thought it was our time”. That would be the correct judgement in my book. The shahid, the witness, according to both Qur’an and Tradition has a blessed death (or his or her time) and does not enter the interspace between life and death but crosses immediately into the next world and is alive.

At the time of the recent Bosnian war there were many accounts of the fresh graves of those who had died, smelling strongly of perfume. My own experience of this was when in the 1970s, Colonel Ata’ur Raheem, one of the first Indians commissioned into the British army, died at a venerable age in London. He co-wrote the well known book Jesus Prophet of Islam  and was a valued counsellor to our fledgling community at that time and much loved and respected. I couldn’t attend his funeral but managed to visit the military cemetery where he was buried the following day. Because there was an intense smell of roses around the grave I assumed that many bottles of rose water had been poured on the earth the previous day. I found out later that no perfume at all had been taken there.

To the western mind the word martyrdom is heavily loaded and associated in some way with failure not success. The more materialistic society a becomes, its shared love of this world makes it almost impossible to view death as a release and not something to fear. This isn’t a subject about which I feel fully qualified to speak but it is something which, as I get older, looms as an ever present reality – which does qualify me to say my bit. One of the diseases of the heart mentioned by Ibn Mawlud in Hamza Yusuf’s book Purification of the Heart (soon to be reprinted – watch this space) is false hope and to not accept death as a close and inevitable reality is mentioned as the biggest of false hopes. The collective disease of the hearts of men and women is what contributes to this breakdown of society. And at a certain threshold it becomes violent.

When violent anarchy manifests then kidnapping becomes one way of easily raising money or obtaining stuff. I have it on good authority from Venezuelans I know, that having your children kidnapped for the ransom of a car or a refrigerator is not uncommon in that country now. I believe it was Imam Malik who said that 60 years of oppression is better than one day of anarchy. I don’t think the Imam meant that oppression was somehow OK but was indicating how terrible anarchy is because oppression is about as bad as it can get.

A postcript to all this was Abdal Hakim’s Opinion article the same day in the London Times. It was an extended tribute to Khalil Dale plus some some statistics about the increasing conversions to Islam in the UK in spite of the terrorist outrages since 9/11 and the endless negative press around Muslims. For me he always has something interesting to say but judging by the subsequent comments on his Times piece, he had evidently touched a nerve. They were almost all (over 60 of them) obnoxious and carcastic. His opinions were clearly like a red rag to the rabid bull of the secular Times-reading underclass. It appears that the typical British islamophobe would rather have a one-eyed hook-handed Egyptian demagogue portrayed as the typical muslim – not an intelligent, educated and most of all, white, Englishman.•

The link to the Times article mentioned above:
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/opinion/columnists/article3401700.ece

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Ancient Prophets of Arabia

Following my tradition of announcing books I have worked on, here is a big one.

Dr. Mostafa Badawi, (a medical doctor of Egyptian origin), practices as a psychiatrist in a hospital in Medina and is hidden away in that wonderful city protected from those who might want to elevate him and claim him for their own. He treats the disturbed souls of Saudi as best he can but his real patients are us lot whom he has, over the years, supplied with numerous valuable translations including The Prophetic Invocations, Man and The Universe, Degrees of The Soul, Key to the Garden, Gifts for The Seeker and many more. Which are all a kind of mercy to the confused souls of this western domain and a window into worlds hitherto inaccessible to the non-arabic reader.

His little green handbook, The Prophetic Invocations, I  use every day and is almost talismanic in its benefits and used right round the world by many and has been for several centuries. The lesser known Man and the Universe ( second printing much improved) is actually a little gem which I read from cover to cover in Thaxted Church, Essex over ten years ago, waiting for a performance of Holst’s Planets, his cosmic orchestral masterpiece by the National Youth Orchestra as part of the Thaxted Music Festival. This highly rated orchestra was tackling one of the most difficult orchestral works in the repertoire, which utilises just about every instrument in an orchestra’s store cupboard and filled the whole width of this great medieval church. I was bagging choice seats for the concert which was being held barely 100 yards from my house in this enormous cathedral-like space so I took Dr Mostafa’s book with me to pass the time and perfectly primed me for what was to follow. Holst had written most of The Planets Suite actually in Thaxted where he lived for a time, and reading Mostafa Badawi’s book followed by this concert was for me an experience like no other. Anyone who is uncomfortable about music for whatever reason, doesn’t know what they are missing.

I digress into all this just as a warm up before the main act which is Mostafa Badawi’s most ambitious book to date, Ancient Prophets of Arabia and which I started work on some three years ago. Although it is a full colour production, it is not strictly a coffee table book, the kind of tome you place on your coffee table for the Hola photo shoot of your parlour. No this is definitely a work for reading and study as you will realise how little you knew about these great men, your forefathers. Dr Badawi has brought these men back to life, at least he did for me while working on it, not that they are really dead in the first place, and freed them from the prison of our old RE classes at school in which all prophets had large white beards and lived on a parallel planet. It’s also not a coffee table book, because many of the only pictures available were really low quality, some of places now destroyed and others obscure places of importance gleaned off the internet. But also we included some excellent pictures of Hud, in the Yemen, taken by Peter Sanders and pictures of Medina donated by the distinguished Japanese photographer Ali  Nomachi. It has maps, digrams and of particular interest to me one measured plan of the ka’ba and a rare photo of its interior. Given the limited resources available, the book has come out remarkably well even though we had enormous problems with the complex text. In my experience I have never seen a book before that was both a coffee table experience and hard-to-put-down academic work.

Aftab Malik of Amal Press says of it

‎”A sweeping narrative of epic proportions told by a master story-teller. Al-Badawi unearths gems from the archives of the Abrahamic traditions, making this contribution to the sira literature not only welcome, but unique. Reading this book is like taking a step back into ancient history with a learned guide holding your hand. Al-Badawi inspires, moves and leaves the reader in awe, as his erudition unearths the deep spiritual insights into the lives of the ancient Prophets of Arabia.”

This 219 pp hardback full colour book is in pre-press at the time of writing and is expected to be unveiled next month (May 2012). For more information and ordering, visit the publishers’ site at www.islamicvillage.co.uk

Posted in architectural, language, miscellaneous, music, Publishing, religion, typography / design | 4 Comments

Chocolate Bunnies

Easter is a strange time of year in Spain.

As a puzzled young mother said to me: How do you explain what all the chocolate bunnies, crucifixions and fireworks mean to a two year old boy. How do you? I suggested she crucifies the chocolate bunny and sends him up in a rocket. He’d understand that – sorry that’s rather macabre. No seriously, of the Spanish fiestas, and there is enough of them in Spain, Semana Santa or Holy Week is the biggest orgy of all, celebrated throughout Spain. An orgy of public penitence, street processions, white pointed hoods and giant wooden effigies of the crucified Christ figure, tears of blood dripping from his agonised face or alternatively the brightly statued images of the Virgin Mary and Child, carried by dozens of inebriated men shuffling down narrow streets, accompanied by heavy drums and trumpets with the occasional outburst of a solo flamenco singer – and it is very dramatic. Let’s not forget the obligatory and enormously expensive firework displays – the biggest bangs you will hear outside war time and billows of smoke, as if a bomb had just gone off in a Beirut street.

It’s an odd cultural and religious mishmash and hard to unravel. The hoods of penitents is a throwback, not the KKK on a European holiday, a celebration of public penitence with an echo of the Inquisition. But other parts of the processions, like the outbursts of flamenco singing (in some places in Andalusia) seems more to do with Spain’s moorish and muslim past – possibly. And what are the fireworks for if not just excitement? – no religious significance at all. The fiestas tend to vary from town to town and village to village. I know of one ancient fiesta in a mountain peublo where we lived around Christmas time when some local musicians would go round the houses playing really bad music collecting money (you paid them to go away) which went into a village fund for the poor of the community. I was assured the age old activity had nothing to do with the church and might have been inherited from the time of the bayt al mal in Muslim times. But from so long ago that no-one really knows. Right now, the fiestas stop people thinking too much about the economic crisis. Or as they call it, the “creesis”. It’s such a feature of Spanish life now, you even see Anti-Crisis bread i.e. cheap. I misread it as Anti-Christ bread

The Spanish are slaves to tradition which, like it or not, does help to keep rampant modernity at arms length but their traditions like bullfighting are grotesque, to put it mildly, and there is constant political pressure to abolish it. Catalonia has made it illegal but nowhere else yet. I suspect more for financial reasons than cultural. The bullfighting business admit the twitter generation just isn’t interested. In an earlier post I mentioned how if Islam had emerged in Christian lands it might have adopted some Christian festivals as its own. But I could not see Easter as being one of them. The resurrection of the crucified Jesus appears to me to be a pagan metaphor for the re-emergence of life from the dead earth, a repeating Quranic theme in fact, but devoid in Spain of any divine causation and basically a fertility rite. But despite all this, the human soul is able to bubble through the bewildering mysteries of Christianity and traverse the thin bridge into Islam.

I say this because recently I came across an interesting blog of an American Quaker who professed to be a sufi (?) and who regularly prayed five times a day and fasted – something more than many muslims do I suspect. But coming from a Quaker background myself I see a natural connection between the two. The Quakers emerged in the 17th century in Britain as one of the many dissenting Christian groups like the Ranters and the Muggletonians who were reacting against the established church who persecuted them one way or another. The Quakers abhored idols and, in most cases, the trinity and refused to take oaths. Their meeting houses were plain rooms with no altars, images or crucifixes of any sort, no liturgy and in England not even hymns. Take out the pews and you have a mosque. They were always pacifists and against slavery. They spoke always of the inner light and the equality of all people. Because they were the most trusted in their communities they began all the big chocolate businesses like Fry’s, Rowntrees and Cadbury’s and also banks like Barclay’s. In other words, trustworthy people of faith but with no protective shell of doctrine – something which they actively opposed. The Quaker  community I lived in just didn’t have answers to the questions I was asking as a teenager.

Left: George Fox who came from Leicester, who founded the Quakers.

Transition from a Quaker upbringing c.1970 to Islam meant having to put some of my pressing questions of holy war and the repression of women to sleep. At that time in 1970, the issue of terrorism hadn’t arisen. There was only one official custom-built mosque in the UK (Woking) and the word ‘muslim’ most people thought was a kind of cloth (muslin). Others with similar backgrounds to me have made this exact transition for the same reasons. But the final obstacle for me was something much subtler and to do with the veil of doubt inside the heart which I believe began with the massive propaganda campaign against the Turks and Islam by that original neocon Lloyd George, prime minister of Britain at the time of the first world war and which must have influenced my parents’ generation deeply. Lloyd George brought in the writer John Buchan from South Africa who worked in military intelligence there, to create loathing of the Turks who had allied themselves with Germany. His famous books, The 39 Steps and Greenmantle were designed to seep fear and hatred of an unseen foreign power deep into the British psyche to support Lloyd George’s war plans. Blatant propaganda.

Buchan (left) also came up with the slogan The Turk Must Go! (see Fromkin’s book, A Peace to End All Peace) It was convenient for the Empire to portray Africans, Indians, Chinese and Arabs as “the other”, including Jews – not us, and therefore inferior. I think I, and most British people of my generation grew up with the echo of this and it was a strong hurdle, a very subtle hurdle, that had to be overcome. These were the working cogs of Empire which were still cranking on at that time with monstrous colonialists like Cecil Rhodes doing their worst, unhindered by law or morality flying the twin flags of Christianity and trade (ie exploitation) up and down Africa.

Quakerism was proof to me that Christianity could produce noble people who had little or nothing to do with the Semana Santa, the self-crucifiying Phillipinos or the extreme right wing fundamentalists in the USA. No wonder Monty Pythons’s The Life of Brian struck a chord with the public. But seeing the need for sacred law (ie doctrine) is the hardest part of the bargain for the Quakers, but if only they knew how it would strengthen and complete their belief and elevate their lives they might well change their minds. After Quakerism there is only one place to go.•

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A Brief History of Transliteration

Language is powerful; and its written word is like a weapon which when launched out into the world enlivens or maims. As cultures and civilisations have moved and evolved through history, the way they have chosen to write their language speaks volumes about their deep motives and aspirations. And of course as one civilisation morphed into another it had to borrow the old words but rewrite them in its new way. This has been going on since writing first began around 5000BC. This is a mighty subject and I can only hope to throw a few personal observations into this post. It is something which affects all of us profoundly, but imperceptibly so.

I want to start from the present and work backwards as this is the only way you will grasp this rather arcane subject. About 23 years ago I was working with the Islamic Text Society in Cambridge UK trying to design books in a computer, a task which hitherto had not been attempted as the criteria for book design were much more demanding than say your average newsletter or magazine, the most a business oriented PC of the time was capable of. One of the priorities was adapting a roman font, Bembo in this case, to accommodate all the different conditions that translated arabic demands and creating the vowels and consonants that don’t appear in the standard roman alphabet. Publishers and writers, mostly academics and translators, have come up historically with various systems of transliteration which typographically were inadequate, like the font Middle East Times, which some might remember from the early 1990s, loved by some academics, which automatically placed a thick line (a macron) above the letter a to correspond to a long aa in arabic. The problem is that you were stuck with the one typeface and it didn’t respect the fact that each letter with a diacritic mark has to be balanced, proportionate and readable at all sizes. Which is why editing a font with these marks is a lengthy process as each character has to be designed carefully and individually … you can’t average it out for all conditions. In other words each diacritic glyph has to be an individual work of art and importantly readable small or large.

Adapting arabic (or any hand-scripted foreign language come to that) into roman type (i.e. English, French etc,) is a recent development but reflects the convergence of cultures in this time, namely the adaptation of arabic words into roman type prompted initially by translations of the Qur’an and the general interest in Islam in the west. The earliest printed Qur’ans in English, e.g. the George Sale 1850 edition (of which I have an original copy here) did their best using marks common in the printer’s palate… eg the long aa would utilise the circumflex mark â and a long uu would utilise an accented ù, and so on. But no attempt was made to make new glyphs, i.e. to place a dot under a consonant which would indicate consonants unique to arabic or to indicate the ayn symbol. In the transliterated fonts which I worked on and which were started off by Monotype back in my time at ITS, we established an acceptable set of characters which have stood the test of time and which have been used in the many books I have worked on since then and by many other publishers and academics who have used the same fonts. We’ve also been able to usefully add arabic salutations (colophons) as part of the same font set. (see an edited version of Baskerville below)

What radically changed things was the introduction of Unicode fonts in the early 1990s which recognised many if not all of the different transliterations in the many roman and non-roman languages in use all around the world. A truly global undertaking. So suddenly most of the  marks we were having to create were available in these new fonts. Also these new font formats allowed for up to 15,000 characters per font whereas previously only 256 characters were available (the ascii set) which necessitated substitutions and juggling to fit in the extra characters. Unicode has revolutionised computer typesetting and particularly the availability of what are called pro fonts which give you every variation of a particular typeface in one font….previously necessitating several fonts to accomodate what you needed. But still the powers that put this together (Xerox, Microsoft, NeXT, Apple and Adobe et alia) unbelievably left off the dotted consonants necessary in arabic translations. (see illustration above) This has meant having to edit the new fonts to create the necessary new glyphs. Also the ayn symbol, a small superscript c, has to be edited into the set.

Mustafa Kamal Attaturk, in the spirit of modernisation after the fall of the Ottoman Caliphate, forced the Turks to change overnight, Nov 1 1928  to be precise, from an adapted arabic script to a roman text, reading from left to right, adding all sorts of diacritics to cope with the spoken Turkish language. He and his accomplices wanted to close the door to its 1,000 year Muslim past and open the door to the Western world. This must have been traumatic for the nation, even though Attaturk himself still went on handwriting his own letters in scripted old Turkish as did many Turks right up to the 1960s. The old scripted Turkish had made an adaptation of arabic to encompass the particular Turkish consonants and vowelling, so to then change into roman script was another huge jump for the populace. Confusing one might think, but in one generation people do adapt – if compelled to. My prediction is that these new transliterated letter forms which we have introduced into the roman alphabet in the last fifty years will in time, maybe 50 years, become absolutely the norm and will be learnt as part of the established alphabet. This must have happend in Iran where arabic was adapted to accomodate the Persian consonants and vowels which don’t occur in pure arabic and which are now absolutely part of the language and now used  by 26 other languages in Asia like Tajik and Urdu.  If we tried to write English in an arabic script (I’ve tried it) we would be faced with the same dilemmas with having to borrow some Persian conventions and even inventing new ones for some of our odd noises. If you have ever tried to read alhamiado, archaic Spanish written in arabic script you would appreciate this problem. (see below) So the form that a language chooses to write in has huge political, religious and social consequences.

Above you see a pilot project undertaken by the poet Emin Alzueta in Spain and myself, which is a page spread of the poem The Beautiful Names of God by Ibn Abbad of Ronda, (1333–1390) a famous Andalusian saint now buried in Fes. Top left is the original Arabic. Top right the Alhamiado version (archaic Spanish) and below right, the romanised old Spanish and below left the modern Spanish translation. The Alhamiado version is a copy from a manuscript found in Spain executed in Andalusian script. To own anything written in arabic script (even Spanish) in post Islamic Spain was severely punished by the Inquisition but such things are still surfacing having been buried in walls and floors of old houses for centuries. The Spanish have their own transliteration system for arabic translations, just slightly different from the English system.

A side subject to this, about which there is considerable disagreement, is the bearing that right left and left right scripts have on the brain and whether this preconditions anything. The Chinese wrote from top to bottom originally and the Ancient Egyptians wrote left to right, right to left and vertically. and the ancient Sabeans and Safaitic cultures wrote boustrophedonically, which means that they wrote from right to left, followed by a second line from left to right mirroring the letters and then back again on the next line in normal writing and so on changing alternately.  It would be an interesting way to write a book and quite easy given the capability of current computer layout programmes. As to why one would do this –  I have absolutely no idea!

These few words barely touch on this complex subject but I hope shows how utterly fascinating it is . When you begin to un-peel written language forms it is like making a postmortem of human history. You see where humanity went and where it is going.

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The Meccan Rebellion

A new book, The Meccan Rebellion, by Thomas Hegghamer and Stephane Lacroix  has just been published by Amal Press, Bristol, and typeset by yours truly (not the cover I should add) and is now on sale. To quote some of the blurbs: “A skillful and scholarly blend of the theological , historical and contemporary contexts to the storming of the Grand Mosque in November 1979. It offers insight into Saudi religious politics … essential reading for students of Islam and Terrorism Studies (Professor Max Taylor). Also “Crucially documents some of the key doctrinal and legal disputes which divide the various Salafi schools in Saudi Arabia.” (Abdal Hakim Winter).

This is not intended as a review but I have read the book and it was surprisingly interesting. Recommended for the ignorant Sufi who glares across the room at the suspected Wahabi, as it explains the intricate history of how, for instance, the Salafis came into existence as the Al-Jama’a al Salafiyya al-Mutasiba in the mid 1960s in Medina under the influence of Muhammad Nasir al-Din Albani, intent on purifying what they perceived as innovation and misconceptions of the official Wahabi establishment and also in other influential groups like the Muslim Brotherhood and the Tabligh Jamat.

The mummified head of Cromwell

It seems once you are committed to enforcing a puritanical path, like Oliver Cromwell, it never stops until you yourself are completely purified i.e dead – rather like Oliver Cromwell, whose severed head sat ignominiously on a 20ft spike above the Houses of Parliament for many years before being taken down and sold off in a junk shop and and finally buried in Sydney Sussex College, Cambridge in a secret location. A warning to religious fanatics everywhere who want to purify everyone.

Of course The Meccan Rebellion focuses on the occupation by Juhayman al-Utaybi and his followers of the Haram and the subsequent siege. Unfortunately the man they believed was the Mahdi (identified in a dream by al-Utaybi) was shot and killed after three days of fighting which rather punctured the plan….  In 1997 in Jeddah, I met the Eritraen Idrisi Shaykh, Muhammad Abu Bakr, may God reward him, who narrowly escaped the siege and the taking of many hostages, by climbing out of a window in the Haram as the siege began. Bullet holes still remain apparently in the walls from that event. Like Oliver Cromwell, once they had surrendered, sixty of al-Utaybi’s followers were executed – they had their heads cut off.

I’m not that interested in history really having been hauled unwillingly around too many  Norman castles in Wales in my youth, but The Meccan Rebellion was peculiarly fascinating as its subject matter impinges directly on all of us and is an essential background to dealing with extremist currents in the modern world and understanding their roots. The only other historical book which I have found equally gripping is David Fromkin’s great book A Peace to End All Peace about the creation of the modern Middle East. It covers the period of time just before the fall of the Ottoman Empire right up to the mid 1920s. I found it utterly fascinating as it showed so clearly the great mess of history and the fog of both war and peace. No-one should look at the modern world and what is happening on a daily basis without referencing it.

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The Fly of God

Have you ever wondered why a mosquito or a fly lands on your face at precisely that moment in the early dawn when you know you should wake up and get out of bed? Did you swat it or did you thank it for waking you? In over 40 years of crossing that rubicon of consciousness from the dream world into this world at dawn in order to pray, I have always marveled at the obedience of these creatures following their orders from above – “Wake that man from his sleep!” is the command from on high! I once had a wonderful tabby cat called Louis who at every dawn would amble into my bedroom and lurk very near my head. He knew I knew he was there and if  I didn’t wake up and get out of bed he would whack me on my head. How could I be annoyed with him? After all he too was just obeying orders; an innocent creature.

We all know enough theology to believe implicitly in the decree of God, that everything is intended, everything is written, and that the ink is dry and that all things happen by divine decree and fore-knowledge – and yet we still utter things like ‘Good Luck’ and ‘Touch Wood’ as if life is just a random lottery. Which is why it seemed important to view that fly waking me at dawn as intimate divine attention and not to see it as anything else.

I have only been robbed a few times in my life and it is not pleasant, as anyone who has experienced it will tell you. You feel shock, violation, loss, anger, humiliation and other unpleasant emotions. I might have even entertained notions of physical revenge but not knowing the criminal involved it was a pointless idea. But in rationalising the experience you eventually have to concede that the Lord of the Worlds permitted them to break into your car or into your house and that there is not much you can do about it. Maybe it was a tax on your property for not giving out enough.

For about eight years in the 1990s my wife and I ran a tiny sub-post office in Cambridgeshire and I employed various devices to protect it from thieves as I knew that a post office was a soft touch, carrying a fair amount of money at most times. I placed an ayat al kursi above the entrance as well as reciting it around the whole property. We had no burglaries over the whole time we were there but I know that the people who took on the post office from us had several break-ins over the following two year period they were there. Coincidence? I think not. Another one of those phrases we use all the time…” just a coincidence”.

I’ve learnt now to see everything that happens as having meaning and that there is no such thing as a random event. Even to the point that if I am in a hurry driving my car and the car in front is slowing me down, I can now accept that I am being slowed down deliberately and probably being saved from some accident (another of those words!) which I might have been hurtling towards. As was pointed out to me many years ago by a friend: don’t hurry to the airport to catch a plane, as when you are crashing down from 30,000 feet you’ll be cursing yourself for having hurried to catch it. Food for thought.

Once understood, all this explains just about everything and it’s a very useful knowledge to have in my opinion. It explains where your food comes from, where your work comes from, where your provision comes from, provision of food for the body and food for your eternal soul. Every single little thing that happens in your life in other words good or bad.  This is really the secret of relief from anxiety and to be content with one’s life. And here is another secret, trivial though it may appear. It’s how to find a parking place for your car when you cannot easily find one. Just say out loud and sincerely ” I totally give up looking for a parking place.” See what happens. For me it rarely fails.

Lord of all flies. Lord of all parking places.

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Olé

A usted‘ is the reply you will often get in Spain when thanking a tradesman or a shopkeeper and it always brings with it a smile. A small but significant courtesy. Usted (or its arabic forerunner ustadh) is the formal ‘you’ or plural form of the pronoun. Of course anyone who knows any arabic will recognise ustadh immediately as the common term of respect for a teacher. I’m not sure how many Spaniards know of its Arabic provenance (although the connection is remote) but that could be said of several thousand arabic words embedded in the Spanish language. Eight hundred years of spoken and written arabic couldn’t be wiped off the map and out of the hearts of the people as simply as King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella and the Catholic Church believed it could in 1492. In fact so much remains of Muslim civilisation in this country but just under the surface so that most of the population are quite unaware of it. Another Arabic-Spanish word I like is rizme from which the English word ream (500 sheets of paper) comes, signifying a bunch of paper in its original arabic. Many similar words are in common use and subconsciously, I believe, reconnect the people on a daily basis with their roots. In much the same way as all language does. For example, in English, earthy words like mud or blood, link us instinctively and unthinkingly to our Saxon heritage. We all lie hidden under our tongues.

And many would agree (except the Bishop of Granada) that its Moorish history is what gives Spain its unique character. The Bishop believes Spain is really a Visigothic culture by tradition, vanishing somehow eight hundred years of Islam and I just don’t know how he figured that out. What a chump. The evidence of Moorish culture in Spain is just about everywhere if you know where to look and I’m not speaking of the Alhambra, Cordoba or Sevilla (which is proof enough). It’s in the place names eg Gaudix = Wadi ‘Ash; or Lanjaron = Ayn Harun. Or in the food Paella= Baqilla, a food normally served on Thursdays in old Andalusia with the leftovers of the week before the big lunch on Fridays. Which is what Paella is…a mix of just about everything, bits of fish, clams, chicken and vegetables all mixed with soggy rice in saffron. If Spain has a national dish, that’s it and definitely of Moorish ie Muslim origin. Or it’s in peoples’ names: eg Ishmael, Nuria or Fatima. But then the Spanish go in for curious names. If you were born on a particular Saint’s day you took on the name. Hence strange names like Expiracion or Incarnacion, quite common Catholic female names. So as a name, Ishmael or Fatima is not going to seem so odd therefore.

I’ve mentioned asequias (another arabic word) in a previous post, the irrigation systems as a living tradition from earlier times. The list is endless. We are continually finding little hidden gems of Moorish times. One of these is a tiny little mosque in a small town called Fiñana on the road between Guadix and Almeria, the north side of the high Sierra Nevadas about three hours drive from us.

Many churches used to be old mosques but in this case the mosque is acknowledged as a mesquita and although it is now officially a Christian shrine it is not used as a church but opened one day a year to exercise the effigy of Jesus that sits inside. But the interior was restored in the 1980s very sensitively and the mihrab and its quranic alabaster work preserved well. You can only peep through a glass window at all this but its columnar layout and qibla direction indicate that it is quite clearly a mosque. On its floor plan an octagon can be seen quite clearly behind the mihrab which must have been the minaret. An unusual octagonal minaret can also be seen in central Valencia. I don’t know of any other octagonal minarets anywhere. Fiñana also has an Arabic baths and a Moorish castle dating from its Almohade past. But it is well off the guide book trail. There are quite a few other similar secret mosques and minarets around Spain but which are also not on the tourist routes.

When my wife and I first came to Spain eight years ago we had many questions about unwritten Moorish history which mostly we couldn’t get answers for. The things which had, against all odds, survived down time. Some we knew had their own little secret stories about, for example, relatives who had been crypto-muslims and who had been performing vestiges of the prayer or wudu in secret for hundreds of years in secret. There are quite a few other such histories. But these were just anecdotes, un-researched and hard to confirm, and they will probably remain as legends. And of course as the older people die out these stories die with them. But where there was a little smoke, more than likely there was a few embers of truth.

But it is in the language you sense the living traditions of a thousand years ago most and even more so when you see the calligraphic evidence in the few qur’ans preserved from that time. Completely readable it as if they were written yesterday. Recently I showed to a group of twenty-five Spanish design students in Granada, on a large screen, a page from an illuminated Quran from around a thousand years ago written in Granada but now in the Stadst museum in Berlin. Its beauty impressed them but what impressed them more was that I could recite the clear arabic script to them. It was like a message sent to them from the past – their past not mine. On a recent visit to the Alhambra museum I saw (behind glass of course), parts of two immaculate handwritten medieval Granadan qur’ans and it is as if they were calling out to me to be liberated. Even more so because the ayats were quite clear and ones I knew….words cannot express my feelings. Well one word can – Allah. In Spanish – Olé.

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