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Abu Hafs Haddad was a Sufi master from Khorasan, a region of Iran. A blacksmith by trade, he once stopped in Baghdad on his way back home after making the Pilgrimage.
A number of eminent scholars and Sufis gathered to meet him, led by Junayd. The discussion happened to turn to the subject of chivalry. When they asked Abu Hafs for a definition, he modestly turned the question back to them, asking for their definition.
“In my view,” Junayd replied, “chivalry is where you are not aware of being chivalrous, and whatever you do, you do not ascribe it to yourself, never claiming, ‘I did this.’”
“Well said,” Abu Hafs commented, “but in my view, chivalry is where you always treat others fairly, and never expect fairness for yourself from others.”
Upon hearing his response, Junayd turned to his disciples gathered around him and exclaimed, “My companions, you should put this into practice!”
“This can not be done by words,” Abu Hafs said.
“Arise, friends,” Junayd cried out, “for Abu Hafs has surpassed Adam and all his progeny in chivalry.”
The first time I heard the story of Abu Hafs Haddad in which he defines chivalry as being fair to others without expecting fairness in return, I was struck by the thought of how difficult it is to be chivalrous to people who are mean-spirited and inconsiderate. It is hard to continue being fair to people who do not practice fairness in their relation to others. But this is precisely what Abu Hafs means: be fair to others and do not require fairness in return. This story led me to consider the meaning of fairness in Sufism.
When advising how to treat others fairly, almost all religions and ethical traditions (even those from ancient Egypt, Greece, India and China) propose some variation of the golden rule. One clear illustration of the golden rule appears in the Zoroastrian sacred text: “Whatever is disagreeable to yourself do not do unto others.” The golden rule can be expressed in both positive and negative forms:
The positive or directive form: Treat others as you would like others to treat you. Or the negative or prohibitive form: Do not treat others in ways that you would not like to be treated.
In order for the golden rule to work, there must be a consensus among people about how they wish to be treated. We understand that everyone wants to be treated with respect, kindness, and without any prejudice. But the rule has its own limitations and scope of application. For example, you cannot apply the golden rule to flattery. Some people do not like to be flattered even though you may like to be flattered.
Sufism goes beyond the golden rule in defining fairness. In Sufism, treating others fairly means you must give precedence or priority to other people over yourself. Put another way, always fulfill others’ wishes before you fulfill yours. This means one should always take care not to act out of selfishness and ego in dealing with others. Some Sufis have even gone beyond this and claimed that to act fairly one must let go of one’s wishes and individual rights altogether in one’s interactions with other people. Obviously, giving priority to other people’s wishes must be carried out within an ethical framework. One cannot fulfill others’ demands or wishes if they are immoral or unlawful within the system of laws and conventions of the society in which one lives.
There is a wonderful story in Rumi’s Mathnavi which illustrates the idea of fairness from the Sufi point of view. The story goes like this:
A wolf and a fox asked a lion to accompany them on a hunting excursion. The lion was reluctant, as he thought they were not worthy of his company, but agreed to join them. They succeeded in catching a wild ox, a mountain goat and a hare. The lion then directed the wolf and the fox to divide the prey. The wolf and fox hoped that a division of the prey would be made according to the rules of justice. The lion knew of their thoughts but kept silent and continued to smile visibly. The wolf came forward and said, “O king, the wild ox is your share, he is big and you are big and strong and active. The goat is mine for the goat is middle and intermediate; and the fox will receive the hare.” The lion was enraged with the wolf and all this talk of ‘my share and your share.’ So he slew the wolf with one blow of his paw. Then he turned to the fox and asked him to divide the prey. The fox, who was petrified by the fate of the wolf, replied that the entire prey belongs to the lion: The ox will be the lion’s breakfast, the goat his lunch and the hare should be his supper. The lion was pleased and replied: “O fox, you have expressed justice so beautifully, from whom did you learn it?” The fox replied, “From the fate of the wolf.” The lion said, “inasmuch as you have pledged your love for me, pick up all the three animals and depart. You are no longer a fox but you have become the same as myself.” The fox said to himself, “A hundred thanks to the lion for having called me up after the wolf.”
Rumi then concludes that “whoever is uttering ‘I’ and ‘we’ at the door of the divine, will be turned back from the door and is continuing his journey in the realm of non-being.”
The lion, of course, represents the spiritual guide in this story and the wolf and the fox represent the spiritual travelers. Rumi’s point is that if you embark on the spiritual path with any preconceived notion of justice and fairness which stems from one’s ego, there is a good chance that you will be lost.