History & Context
History & Context
Hanan al Hannan (ca. 1295-1375) was a little known contemporary of Shams al-Din Hafez (ca. 1320-1390), the great Persian mystical poet from Shiraz. Like Hafez, Hanan al Hannan was at least on the surface a Shiite Moslem strongly influenced by Sufism and its elaborate system of symbolism and pantheism.
In the Sufi belief system, each human soul is a particle of the Divine Absolute, and the mystic aims at a complete union with this Divine. This union is attained in the knowledge that a human being is himself that ultimate reality which he seeks. Only by seeing things as they truly are and abandoning the structural restraints of conventional culture and religion can he or she attain this higher goal.
Little is known about Hanan’s early life. It has been said that Hanan came east from the remnants of Crusader states in erstwhile Palestine with his Islamic mother after the death of his father, who likely had Nestorian Christian beliefs. Along the way, his mother also died or abandoned the journey and one account describes that Hanan “appeared with the wind from the West” in southern Persia circa 1338, along a trade route that connected the Arab Empire with Damascus and the sea beyond. It is noted that he survived the months-long trek using little more than an uncommon speech, which drew meaning and connected words to deliver poetry and prose such that it would beguile those within hearing to aid the impoverished wanderer. Some thought him an unstable magician with roots in and exposure to Islam, Zoroastrian traditions and fringe Christianity, using words to weave spells, trances and illusions. If anything, Hanan, as described by those of his era who claimed to have spent time with him, was viewed as an eclectic and often humorous presenter of ideas some of which bordered on treasonous depending on the audience.
It is said that Hanan al Hannan first met Hafez in the terrace of the Jame’e Atig Mosque, equally inspired by the deep spiritual roots of the location and past use as a Zoroastrian ceremonial site. Historians have not verified this meeting, but merchant accounts from the late 1350’s report a gathering in the open land between Esfahan and Yazd at which both Hanan and Hafez were present and engaged in a “divine exchange of God’s breath” while dancing in a trance state from dusk until dawn. There are no records of what was said that night, and there are no other accounts of interaction between the two men.
Where Hafez remained stationary for most of his life, Hanan served as an itinerant bard and seer, wandering mostly among the smaller villages of the Fars region and appending himself to caravans reported to have brought him as far as India to the East where he came into direct contact with Buddhist teachings, further influencing his poetry and disposition. He practiced swordsmanship, often trading verbal blows among parleys and jabs in caravan camps. The crusades of the previous century and expanding Tamerlane (Timur-i lang) and Ottoman Empires preoccupied Hanan, and he spoke of war in spontaneous lectures, trying to sway those who listened to not pick up the scimitar and engage in killing over “what God is or is not”, making him a target to emerging powers and reinforcing his persistent movement and relatively obscure status. Eventually he traveled back West to Palestine or Lebanon to further spread a message of tolerance where he passed into the next realm under unknown circumstances.
Due to his outspoken and anti-establishment nature, works by Hanan may have been cited to mystics or poets of other names at various times – indeed, Hanan may have used a dozen or more “names” throughout his lifetime to ensure his survival. The included works, as revealed, primarily reflect the pre-Tamerlane period of his poetry, most of which begins with the phrase “Hanan says:” serving as his oral signature. His spoken words and poetry fall within the lyrical and mystical traditions of his era and are meant to be understood (or perhaps misunderstood) on various levels, depending on the individual reader and their connection to “the All”.
While they wrote and orated poetry in the same region of the world over concurrent decades, a comparison between Hafez and Hanan indicates a relationship somewhat akin to that of Emerson and Thoreau. Simply put, Hanan, like Thoreau, was more immersed in the praxis of living and experiencing – he viewed his time on Earth as perhaps many see Hafez’ love-driven 40 day meditation on the mountaintop. While Hanan wandered as a way of life as meteor showers appear and retreat, Hafez was more sedentary, fixed and dependable like the sun. Accordingly, the insights of Hanan may appear to the reader as chaotic, but do not be mistaken. Like his justly esteemed and revered poetic peer, Hanan’s works are essentially single-minded of focus: God (the All, the One, the Universe) is in and is each of us, period. Everything Hanan interpreted through his senses, perceptions and historical and cultural context of his time is parlayed through words derived from his sense that we are all connected, seed, root, stem and flower to each other and that we are not as separate as we perceive.
The rapidly changing base of knowledge and experience in southern Persia as a crossroads of commerce, politics, culture, language, religion, spirituality and local, regional and (at that time) global conflict and power struggle serve to inform Hanan’s poetry as well as define its relevance today. The Middle East and world in general appear to be in a state of flux and conflict in the 21st Century bearing great and grave similarities to Hanan’s time. Escalating warfare and attempted conquests among nations and sub-groups using a self-determined proprietary definition of God to create differences and distance from the “other” in order to justify their actions echo the Crusades – the likely reason for Hanan’s forced abandonment of the Palestine region and the start of his quest for understanding.
The suffering under Tamerlane, who co-opted Islam to better serve his imperial greed and expansion goals, reminds one immediately of rulers on either side of current conflicts who use belief systems to achieve their means without, unfortunately, practicing the tenets at the spiritual heart of those philosophies. Many are those sent to war under false pretenses who go because they are told, but understand little that the opposing side is so very much like them in just another misperceived form. Hanan is preoccupied with these elements of human experience and clearly feels the loss to the All of such activity. Hanan’s wishes, as expressed in his poetry, are that we all in some way (and he does not claim to know the specific path) seek to fulfill the potentiality of human existence.
Hanan’s work clearly forsakes traditional Ghazals and explores what is referred to today as “colloquial poetry”. Of the traditional foci, meter, and rhythms of Persian poetry, Hanan only worked with variations on two forms: The purposeful poem (Ghassideh), and fragments (Ghattehaat). The translations as revealed remain as true as possible to his unadorned way of delivering the insights and perceptions as he interpreted them with and within the Universe.
Using his quirky perspectives and off-beat simple jests, Hanan is saying that in finding our own paths to ourselves, we better come to know the paths of the others with whom we share time and space. Inevitably, we see that we are all strands of the Universe, woven together by the All for reasons we may never fully comprehend.