Interview – 2 Shawwal 1427 (2006-10-25)

Transcript of the Conversation with His Holiness Majzoub Ali Shah (may his soul be sanctified)
Requested by Some “Fuqara” and Friends in Response to Certain Rumors

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This conversation took place on 3 Aban 1385 SH, corresponding to 2 Shawwal 1427 AH, at the request of some “fuqara” and friends due to recent rumors being spread by opponents regarding his life.

Question: Although you are recognized as a notable figure both spiritually and intellectually and socially, not much has been written or said about you. What is the reason for this?

Answer: I have generally refrained from speaking about my life or writing an autobiography, as you will rarely find me having said much. Nonetheless, since your questions may be the same that create confusion or even doubts in others’ minds, I will give a general response, but I will try to keep it informative rather than self-praising.

Question: Could you briefly describe your childhood, youth, and education?

Answer: I was born in 1306 SH in Beydokht, Gonabad, into a rural family that, for generations, had been known for their knowledge and spirituality. I received my early education in a local “maktab-khaneh” under the supervision of my noble father, and I completed fifth grade in Gonabad. I moved to Tehran for the sixth grade. Throughout my academic life, from elementary school to university, I was an active and passionate student. For instance, I ranked first in the sixth-grade literature class at the ʿElmiyeh High School in Tehran and even received an award from my late father, may God bless him. During this period, I also became acquainted with classical sciences and studied traditional astronomy (“heyʾat-e qadim”) under my father’s guidance.

Question: How did you pursue your higher education?

Answer: I earned my bachelor's degree in law at the University of Tehran and then joined the judiciary. In addition to the standard curriculum, I studied Islamic jurisprudence and legal theory under renowned professors like the late Shihabi, Mashkat, Sanglaji, and the late Homa’i. Later, I also engaged in scholarly discussion with my respected brother Hazrat Reza Ali Shah and studied key works such as “Sharayeʿ al-Islam” and “Sharh-e Lumʿa”. After several years in the judiciary, I voluntarily took early retirement with a modest pension and used it to pursue further education in Europe. I lived in Paris for three years and earned a doctoral degree. Upon returning, I resumed judicial service in Tehran.

Question: You are known among many for your social activities. Could you tell us about your past involvement in social affairs?

Answer: From the very beginning of my service in the judiciary, and even during my final years of study at the Faculty of Law in Tehran, I was involved in social matters. My late father, may God bless him—my first spiritual guide—never gave me any specific directive in this regard, neither to encourage nor to forbid me. He was well aware of my activities and knew that I would obey immediately if he ever gave a command, but he never did. His leaving me free in my personal decisions felt like an inspiration, signaling that matters tied to individual judgment should rely on human intellect. As I mentioned in my first “Declaration” upon assuming the role of spiritual guide, the path of “Dervishhood” does not interfere in politics, but Dervishes, like any citizen, are free to act according to their personal judgment. I have elaborated on this principle in subsequent declarations and in response to questions posed over the years. That is, no one should speak or act politically on the grounds that the Dervish path commands them to vote or not vote, or to support or oppose anyone. However, each Dervish, guided by divine intellect and trained within the ethics of “faqr”, should decide for themselves what benefits the country and aligns with Islamic teachings, and then act accordingly. This has always been the approach in our “silsila”. For example, during the time of Hazrat Sultan Ali Shah—as mentioned in the book “Nabegheh-ye ʿElm o ʿIrfan”—when asked whether he supported the Constitutionalists or their opponents, he replied that he was simply a farmer and did not know the meaning of constitutionalism or absolutism, but clearly, some form of government was necessary. On another occasion, when Mohammad Ali Shah was planning to dissolve the Parliament and the people of Gonabad had sought help from him, he wrote to some officials saying: “Today, the well-being of the state, the nation, and the people lies in cooperation with the Parliament. Given the current circumstances, opposing it is not advisable.” Hence, when consulted, he shared his personal opinion—not the position of the Dervish path. Another example appears in the book “Wilayatnameh”, where he sharply criticized the government of his time. Thus, throughout all periods, individuals with differing political views have existed within the path of “faqr” and Dervishhood. During Hazrat Sultan Ali Shah’s leadership, two brothers—Etemad al-Tawliya, who had ties to the Qajar court, and Moʿtamad al-Tawliya, who was a constitutionalist—sat side by side in “Dervish” gatherings. The shared spiritual dignity and human affection of “faqr” united them despite political differences.

Question: When did you formally enter the path of Dervishhood and the journey toward God?

Answer: Due to our family’s spiritual legacy and my noble father’s rank in mysticism, awareness of the mystical path developed in me from the early stages of rational discernment. Having grown up in this spiritual environment, I was drawn to it. For several years, I expressed my desire to Hazrat Saleh Ali Shah until, in 1331 SH, through the intermediation of my late brother Haj Sultan Hossein Tabandeh, I had the honor of visiting him in Beydokht, Gonabad. From that time until the year 1345 SH, when my father passed away—and I was nearly forty years old, an age when intellectual maturity usually stabilizes—I remained devoted to him. As I wrote in “Yadnameh-ye Saleh”, I never accepted a word without understanding it rationally, except for what he said. I believed he was in a position to say: إِنِّي أَعْلَمُ مِنَ اللَّهِ مَا لَا تَعْلَمُونَ . And indeed, I suffered no harm from this, and it was never proven otherwise. After Hazrat Saleh Ali Shah’s passing, on the morning following the night his successor Hazrat Reza Ali Shah’s appointment was announced, I renewed my allegiance to him. My devotion and affection for him never wavered, and I was always under his care and consulted by him. Even when he had to stay in hiding due to possible pressures, he sent Haj Ali Tabandeh several times to bring me to him. Once, during a gathering, I mentioned that house, and Hazrat Reza Ali Shah told me, “That was the same house you visited several times.” I said, “I don’t know the address.” He replied, “You went there yourself; how can you not know?” I answered, “Each time, I kept my head down so that I wouldn’t know where I was going. That way, if adversaries tried to force the address from me, I wouldn’t be able to give it.” Throughout all this time, I was under the affection and spiritual guidance of both my father and brother. Hazrat Reza Ali Shah even wanted to issue me Sufi authorizations and duties for guiding seekers, and through family elders like the late Haj Agha Sultanpour, he had asked me to accept some responsibilities. But I respectfully requested not to accept those duties. Even later, when Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah proposed that I succeed him, I told him, “If it is a command, then due to my Sufi devotion, I must obey and you need not insist. But if you seek my consent, then I am not willing. If I’m free and don’t have to carry others’ burdens, it would be better for me.” He said, “No, I want your consent.” Eventually, I accepted only because he said he was worried about what would happen after him and wished to entrust it to someone so he could rest assured. He said it was the divine will that I take on this spiritual responsibility. So I accepted, but told him it was only to alleviate his concern. I added, “There’s an eighteen-year age difference between us—you were born in 1324, and I in 1306—which is practically a generational gap. Naturally, it would be expected for me to depart before you.” I requested that the matter remain confidential and that his decrees regarding me be kept sealed until a memorial gathering for me might be held. Therefore, he issued decrees appointing me to lead prayer and guide seekers, as well as the succession decree, in a private manner known only to a few. Others suspected it without being explicitly told. After his passing, the decrees were read publicly. Besides the formal succession order, he had also written telegrams to the “Mashayekh” confirming my appointment, which were later revealed. Thus, the succession was not—as some opponents claim—a coincidence, but a result of long-standing affection and recognition by the last three Qutbs, with Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah finally formalizing it with spiritual insight and issuing the decree.

Question: Given that mystical training is often wrongly assumed to have no connection to social life, how have you balanced the two?

Answer: I held various positions in the Ministry of Justice, from leadership to judgeship. In all those roles, I strived—praise be to God—to act in accordance with the Shari‘ah, the teachings of mysticism, fairness, and reason. During the reign of Mohammad Reza Shah, when even appearing to be a devout Muslim came at a cost, I was known in the judiciary as a committed Muslim. Colleagues would often approach me with questions of Islamic ethics. Due to my conduct and spiritual discourse, I enjoyed special affection and respect among judiciary employees and judges. Throughout that time, I continued my Islamic and “‘irfani” studies for personal spiritual growth, not to publish articles or books. Whatever I have written or translated—some of which has been published in two volumes, “Collected Legal and Social Articles” and “Collected Jurisprudential and Social Articles”—was done in response to real events or issues I encountered and felt morally obliged to address. I never saw myself as responsible for writing about mystical matters. Nevertheless, even in those collections, my mystical perspective is always present. This “‘irfani” lens has always been at the core of my being. Unfortunately, I did not take notes from my spiritual research, and now when I quote “‘irfani” texts, I sometimes don’t remember the source. I hope to later find the references.

Question: Your social and political involvement seems to be more publicly visible than your mystical life. Would you agree with this perception?

Answer: I would like to repeat here what I once told a friend from the judiciary who was familiar with my political background. During a trip to Europe about seven or eight years ago, which I undertook as Qutb of the “silsila” to visit the “fuqara”, this friend asked me: “With all your political activities and the high positions you held in the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Culture and Guidance, why are you no longer involved in social affairs and instead engaged in spiritual and Dervish matters?” I responded: “It’s not that I wasn’t a Dervish back then. “Dervishhood” is a school, a path, and a religious worldview. It is an ethical-spiritual way that underpins Islam. Therefore, everyone who calls themselves Muslim should be aware of it, and some should practice it. At that time, in whatever position or role I had in society, I was part of this path. But while I was once a student in this school, I have now become a teacher in it—and the role of a teacher is to prioritize the spiritual education of their disciples.” From the moment I was honored, more than fifty years ago, by Hazrat Saleh Ali Shah to join this path, I have been devoted to it in both word and deed. My mental framework, spiritual compass, and the measure by which I evaluate actions have always been based on it. But spiritual matters are not always easily expressed or understood by others.

Question: During your time in public service and administrative roles, how was your relationship with your family?

Answer: During all my years in the judiciary and involvement in public affairs, I remained loved by and in consultation with my father, brothers, and other relatives. In fact, I was their advocate in administrative matters. I was never treated with coldness by any of them. For instance, my uncle, the late Haj Agha Sultanpour, who once had to flee from bandits and stayed at our house in Tehran for some time, was warmly and proudly welcomed. Even when I took high judicial or administrative positions, I always stayed connected to my family. After I became Deputy Minister of the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance in 1357 SH during the government of the late Engineer Bazargan, I visited Beydokht during the Nowruz holidays of 1358. I went there to pay respects at the tombs of my ancestors, visit my mother, fulfill kinship ties, and express my devotion to my late brother Hazrat Reza Ali Shah. I stayed in Beydokht for several days.

Question: Did you cease your professional activities after retirement?

Answer: Immediately after retiring, I applied for a law license, which was issued within two weeks. The head of the Bar Association at the time, after my license was granted and I was to take the oath, warmly welcomed me, saying that my joining the legal profession added dignity to it. He even offered to issue licenses quickly for any friends I recommended. During my years as a lawyer, I was never driven by financial motives. You could ask any of my clients. I typically reviewed a case before accepting it and never, contrary to what some websites have recently claimed, found myself in financial need. Praise be to God, my brothers, especially Hazrat Reza Ali Shah, and other family members always held deep affection for me. My law license was never revoked; it still stands valid. However, around 1374 or 1375 SH, I stopped taking on new cases. As one senior court clerk told me, “For someone like you to walk into these courts—it diminishes your dignity.” I could no longer tolerate the atmosphere. After the passing of Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah and my appointment to the Qutb position—an all-consuming role—I completely withdrew from legal practice.

Question: Given your decades of social and political involvement before and after the Revolution, what is your current view of the Islamic Republic?

Answer: I have never been opposed to a system genuinely rooted in Islamic democracy. I considered myself a servant of such a system and worked earnestly toward it. One example: before the Revolution, Ayatollah Taheri was exiled due to a series of speeches. He appointed me as his lawyer. In court, I said that I personally endorsed everything he had said, but to avoid prolonging the process, I wouldn’t repeat his statements. I once told a government official, who still holds a position today, that a Muslim cannot oppose a system if it is truly Islamic. My objection is not to the system itself, but to certain managerial methods that cause people to turn away from Islam (and lead figures such as the current Pope—perhaps out of ignorance—to call Islam a religion of terror). Even during my time in public service, I never exploited the name of Sufism, despite my deep belief in it. I preferred that my actions and words speak for themselves. If correct, they would reflect the path of Sufism without naming it; if not, they wouldn’t tarnish its reputation. Years ago, at a friendly gathering, a speaker—an enlightened man—criticized Sufism, equating it with isolation and passivity. After his speech, he learned of my spiritual leanings and came to apologize. I told him, “No need to apologize. I agree with you. That kind of Sufism deserves criticism. A real Sufi must be active, upright, God-conscious, and wise.” As my late father wrote in “Pand-e Saleh,” those who are otherwise are misusing the name “Sufi.” I gave him an analogy: a shepherd’s felt cloak—called a “kapnak”—gets so dusty it can’t be washed, as water turns the dust to mud. So they beat the dust out with a stick. Rumi alludes to this when he says:

You too struck the dust, not the felt. Even today, I say that the kind of so-called Sufism being criticized—which is full of blameworthy traits—is also rejected by the true masters of the Sufi path. That is not true Sufism.

Question: What is your overall view on the relationship between politics and Sufism and “faqr”?

Answer: I have tried—and will always try—to keep “Dervishhood” separate from politics. Of course, as I have said before, this applies to “Dervishhood” as a path, not to individual Dervishes. On the contrary, a Dervish must be socially active and steer their life according to religious teachings and present realities. But the path itself should stay out of politics. As I clearly stated in the very first “Declaration” I issued the day after the passing of Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah, this has been my approach from the outset of assuming the role of spiritual guidance in the Ni‘matullahi Gonabadi “silsila”. I have refrained from expressing even personal opinions on political matters. Yet, unfortunately, some assume we are a separate power from the nation and oppose us based on this illusion. They even try to drag Dervishhood into politics to undermine it—just as in the recent events in Beydokht, where nothing specific had occurred, yet they acted as if it were an organized uprising. If it was spontaneous, why did they arrive with all that pre-planned equipment and transport? Why bring two buses of men and women from outside Gonabad? Why disregard the beliefs and feelings of the crowds gathered in defense of “faqr” and the Qutb?
In any case, I have always sought to personally uphold this principle and not make “Dervishhood” a political tool. I never exploit religious or spiritual sentiments for social influence. I believe that misusing people’s beliefs leads to damage to those very beliefs. That is why, despite open hostility toward “faqr” and “Dervishhood”—whether physical or ideological—it continues to thrive, praise be to God. They publish books against Sufism and especially against our “silsila”, using fabricated authors and organized campaigns. Then they insist that I should publish rebuttals. But I have always said that no rebuttal is necessary. General criticisms against Sufism have existed for centuries and been addressed sufficiently. As for outright lies and slander, these do not need refutation. Anyone can spread false rumors about others—especially when the target is denied the chance to respond. But a fair and sincere person will study Sufi literature directly and attend our gatherings to distinguish truth from falsehood. Others, however, seek to provoke us into publishing rebuttals just so they can reply and keep the cycle going, stirring the public and fueling tension. Their goal is to politicize “Dervishhood”, and sadly, some forces hostile to the government even help them—to drive the large Dervish population in Iran and abroad into conflict with the state. But if a Dervish opposes someone, it's not the government they oppose—it is someone who disrespects their sacred beliefs or spiritual leaders. Trying to present such a person as anti-government is a calculated distortion. In my view, anyone who deliberately pushes this narrative is an infiltrator working against the interests of the nation and the state.

Question: Yet some websites publish responses to criticisms of Sufism. Do you play any role in these?

Answer: These websites that are said to be from our side are not personally mine. Everyone is free to defend their beliefs. When someone insults Sufism or the Qutb—meaning me—every Dervish takes that as a personal offense and feels entitled to defend against the slanders they know to be false. All these websites were created without my knowledge, though naturally I understand that they arise from the “fuqara”’s sense of honor and personal judgment. Occasionally, they inform me of their efforts, but I neither endorse nor criticize them—because I want “fuqara” to think for themselves. They must learn that imitation is only for religious practices, as defined in legal manuals. Even the senior scholars themselves write in their manuals that “matters of belief are the responsibility of the individual, who must arrive at correct views through personal investigation.” This is clearly stated in all the legal handbooks: that they cover only practical rulings, and that each person must determine their beliefs independently.

Question: What is your opinion about the recent cultural and media attacks against Sufism?

Answer: As I mentioned earlier, I generally do not pay much attention to these websites, even though friends sometimes bring them to me. But I do notice certain psychological manipulation tactics being used. For example, one site recently launched attacks against us using the name “Gonabad 110.” This is odd because the same people attack the use of the numbers “110” and “121” in other platforms. Let me explain: the use of “abjad” numerals is an old practice in our literature, used to encode dates and religious meanings. In elementary school, we learned these values. In “abjad”, “110” equals “Ali,” and “121” equals “Ya Ali.” These numbers express reverence without writing divine names explicitly—just like how people use ellipses after divine names, like writing “Alhamd...” or “Nasrat...,” to avoid desecration. Some institutions even have bins for paper with sacred names.
But what about those who bulldozed sacred sites containing names of God, the Prophet, and the Imams (AS)? Are they really the ones who revere divine names? To avoid hypocrisy, we do not write God’s name outright—we refer to Him by saying “Hu”. لا إله إلّا هو (“There is no god but Hu.”) appears in the Quran. And since all Muslims accept the Quran and even other religions believe in God, we add “110” or “121” to affirm our acceptance of Ali’s (AS) “wilayah”.
Another manipulative tactic is the use of images of recent “silsila” leaders on book covers—such as in “Dar Kuy-e Sufiyan”—to entice Dervishes into buying books full of falsehoods. Gonabad, as a remote town, owes its identity almost entirely to mysticism and Sufism. So when someone sees a site named after Gonabad, they assume it is from the Dervishes. These sites even title articles “Biography of Mr. Nour Ali Tabandeh” to draw readers in with apparent respect—only to mislead them with false and slanderous content.
Or take the story of the ring thrown into a well and retrieved miraculously, falsely attributed to Haj Sultan Muhammad Sultan Ali Shah Bidokhti. In fact, similar tales are found in much older sources about others. For example, “Tashayyuʿ va Tasawwuf” by Dr. Kamil Mustafa al-Shaybi (translated by Alireza Zekavati Qaragozlu, first edition, page 294) quotes it from “al-Hawadit al-Jamiʿa” by Ibn Futi about Sheikh Abd al-Rahman Sufi. It’s also in “Taraʾiq al-Haqaʾiq” by Nayib al-Sadr Shirazi.

Question: Another method seems to be spreading doubt about unity among the “Mashayekh”, yourself, and the “fuqara”—as seen in a front-page article in a well-known newspaper that contained entirely false information. What is your response?

Answer: The “Mashayekh” currently authorized by me to guide others have all been appointed not only for their spiritual merit but also after thorough evaluation of their “‘irfani” qualifications. All of them hold firm beliefs, are beloved by the “fuqara”, and work hard to nurture them. There is no difference among them in this regard. Their affection for me has been clearly shown over the past ten years of my Qutb-hood—whether they were appointed by Hazrat Reza Ali Shah, Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah, or by me directly. All of them renewed their allegiance to me with full devotion after Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah’s passing. The same is true of the “fuqara”, who have shown no sign of discord. Opponents of Sufism sometimes publish fake declarations in the names of “fuqara” or “Mashayekh”, but their forgeries are so crude they need no refutation. The problem is that these enemies mistakenly believe “faqr” is like a political party, where discord can be sown with rumors. But the bonds between “fuqara”, “Mashayekh”, and the Qutb are spiritual in nature—something only those who have breathed the fragrance of faith can comprehend.

Question: There is a rumor that you summoned the “Mashayekh” to Beydokht during the last Ramadan. Is there any truth to this?

Answer: This too is one of those baseless rumors. When I went to Beydokht for Ramadan, I had only given permission to Mr. Shari’at to come later. Yet he came just a day or two after I left, wishing to be there from the start of the month. Mr. Maʿrufi, who lives in Rasht, had already been invited by locals before I arrived and came earlier. Upon hearing I would also be there, he stayed. Mr. Mahjubi came a few days later on his own. Mr. Waʿezi, being from Zabol, often visits due to proximity. I did not summon any of them—they came out of love and devotion. Later, a few days after the memorial for Hazrat Mahboub Ali Shah and their ten-day fasting period, I asked them to return home to avoid misunderstandings.

Question: In your view, what has been the result of these ongoing oppositions to Dervishes?

Answer: Although, unfortunately, individual Dervishes have suffered much harm across Tehran and many cities, the path of Sufism has not only endured but is rising day by day.