The encircling sea is in ferment.
Being and space are in uproar.
The eternal mystery has become manifest.
Why should the knower hide anymore?---Nesimi

At the end of 16th century Ottoman Bosnia was center stage for a lengthy struggle between the
establishment and a radical religious movement. In the words of Nesimi (a fourteenth-century Hurufi
poet), those with knowledge of the Truth had decided that the time had come for them to reveal the
eternal mystery, regardless of its social and political repercussions that would follow by doing so. The
ensuing conflict between those who sought to reveal and the well-established order would dominate the
central lands of Islam from the 14th to the 17th centuries as one religiously nonconformist group after
another  made its appearance. In Anatolia and the Balkans it was a clash that had been building
momentum ever since the Ottomans began to employ the orthodox ulema to exert both political and
social control over its population. This clash came to a climax in the mid- and late-16th century with a
religious movement known as the Hamzevis.  That the Hamzevis represented a departure from
normative Islamic interpretation is obvious, given the ideas of many other clandestine, non-conformist
groups that converged in this movement.

For several generations, Melami spiritual leaders welcomed martyrdom with a willingness to surrender
their lives for their unconventional beliefs. With each execution the Ottomans managed to quell the threat
of a major revolt and consequently the political impact of the Melami movement remained quite
restricted to small bands of followers. Yet because the Melamis were not completely eradicated the
impetus for serious confrontation with the authorities built with every new execution, until it finally
reached a culmination in the figure of the Bosnian Hamza Bali, a charismatic Melami şeyh, in whose honor
the order was renamed. When it was announced that Hamza was the Sahib-i Zaman,  the movement had
opened out throughout the western Balkans, and, moreover, it was preparing to replace the Ottoman
dynasty with this new divinely-appointed sovereign.

It was during this period of Balkan upheaval that another controversial Bosnian, the poet Mulhid Vahdeti,
made his first appearance. Vahdeti spread a contentious message that focused on the doctrines of the
most abhorred of all heretics, Fazlullah Astarabadi, and it is in his poetry (which made him a likely
mouthpiece for the Hamzevi revolution) that a clear picture of the radical theological currents that were
flowing through the Ottoman society of his day can be found.

MULHID VAHDETI
Mulhid Vahdeti became recognized for his ability to express in the form of poetry the very same
teachings that caused the head of many a Bosnian to be severed on the executioner’s block. Poetic
pseudonyms (mahlas) were quite common among Ottoman poets of the time, but for our Bosnian it
carries a very significant meaning. The name Vahdeti makes clear his enthusiasm for the concept of
vahdet-i vucud – unity of being. In addition, the name Mulhid (heretic) may have been given to him by
his enemies from the ranks of the ulema or it may have been willingly adopted as a badge of open dissent.

Mulhid Vahdeti (whose given name was most probably Ahmet) was born in the small eastern Bosnian
town of Dobrun, where he spent a considerable period of his life.  He acquired a deep passion of poetry
and the Persian language in his youth, which encouraged his spiritual predisposition and, more
importantly, opened him to the world of Fazlullah Astarabadi.  Vahdeti spent much time traveling, from
Bosnia to Istanbul and beyond, but it is unknown as to why he did so.  In all probability his unmistakably
Hurufi beliefs made many enemies, a reality that would hinder settling in one place for very long.

Despite the survival of his poetry, little is clear about Mulhid Vahdeti’s life. The dates of his birth and
death are unspecified, although we do know that he was still alive in 1603 CE, a date that conveniently
places him in the period of the Hamzevi uprisings in Bosnia.  It is also unclear as to what specific tarikat
Mulhid Vahdeti was affiliated with, if any. Except for a poem that exalts the great mystical master Rumi
(d.1270 CE) which has lead a number of scholars to conclude that he was a Mevlevi of some sort, Vahdeti
presents no further references to any other Sufi şeyhs or tarikats, even to Hamza Bali. Even so, his
radical understanding of vahdet-i vucud and constant references to Fazlullah, among other things,
conclusively mark his Hurufi leanings, a fact that has led others to presume that he was a Bektashi.

A more relevant question to ask here may be this: when and how did Vahdeti become committed to the
Hurufi movement? It is probable that he did so during one of his many travels throughout the empire,
which, if so, would open up a myriad of possibilities regarding his tarikat affiliation. Furthermore it is
possible that Mulhid Vahdeti came into contact with Hurufi material while he lived in Bosnia. If this were
the case, Vahdeti could almost certainly be linked to the Hamzevi movement which was active in his
native eastern Bosnia during his lifetime. In 1573 CE Ottoman authorities put to death several Hamzevi
leaders in Bosnia, which was followed ten years later by a failed insurrection in the same region. If Mulhid
Vahdeti was indeed affiliated with the Hamzevis, he may have been involved in this unsuccessful uprising,
which would have caused him to flee Bosnia in order to escape persecution from the authorities.

THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE & SUFISM
During the seven centuries of its existence the Ottoman State developed a strong, yet distinctive,
relationship with Islam. In the service of the state, Islam was a popular political medium that was
enormously influential and authoritative among the empire’s Muslim population. In order to justify the
use of Islam as a channel for political stability, the empire took great efforts to preserve the religious
administration, the class of ulema (which was granted enormous authority), in order that it could serve
the wellbeing and stability of the state.

At the same time, other groups within the empire developed interpretations of Islam that were often
independent and at odds with state-sanctioned dogma. These were the spiritual fraternities, or tarikats.
In contrast to the ulema, the tarikats were theoretically independent of the state, and on the whole they
represented diverse social and occasionally political segments of the Ottoman population. Nevertheless it
would be a mistake to consider the tarikats and the ulema as incessantly conflicting forces, since
membership in both regularly overlapped. Most of the Sufi orders during this period of Ottoman history
were clearly orthodox in outlook, namely the Naqshibandis, conformist Melami-Bayramis, Qadiris, Rifa’is
and the very influential Khalwatis.  Like the ulema class, the power and influence of the tarikats was
widespread within the Ottoman Empire. Yet tarikat association encompassed individuals from all social,
economic, and political spheres, ranging from the lowest peasant to the palace, whereas members of the
ulema tended to be drawn from particular sections of society.

As mentioned above the majority of Ottoman tarikats were supporters of the existing order, including the
ulema establishment and its official dogma that was upheld by the state. Nonetheless, there were a
number of tarikats whose affiliates espoused radical interpretations of Islam, and who would often turn
out to be embittered opponents of the ulema class and, by extension, the state. The central
administration spent a great amount of effort to control or eradicate these groups, and at times went as
far as executing their leaders.  The Ottoman State, which used Sunni Islam to legitimize its power, could
hardly tolerate nonconformist departures from official dogma.

In essence the difference between the so-called orthodox and heterodox tarikats lay in their doctrines.
While most tarikats (even normative ones) approved of the concept of vahdet-i vucud in one form or
another, and had often visibly Shi’i propensities, heterodox groups were generally charged with taking
these two concepts to extremes.  The notion of pantheism (an immoderate reading of the widely
acknowledged notion of vahdet-i vucud) that developed in heterodox Sufi movements also merged with
the notions that these groups ascribed to their şeyhs, their spiritual guides.  

Before the 13th century Sufis were seen more or less as religious teachers or exemplary ascetics rather
than divine intermediaries and wonderworkers. But as the tarikats developed more defined hierarchical
structures in the wake of the Mongol invasions, the position of the şeyh (the spiritual master and guide)
was advanced to that of a holy man, one who exerted spiritual command as a mediator between man and
God, and who possessed Divine grace (keramet). Despite their seemingly otherworldly concerns, the
beliefs of these Sufis did on occasion have serious political repercussions.  If a certain şeyh was able to
amass a considerable following of loyal followers, and if that şeyh’s followers believed that he was indeed
the kutb (axis) of the universe, then the status of the Ottoman sultan (or any other secular ruler for that
matter) would be in question. The kutb was seen as being the real sovereign of both spiritual and material
worlds bestowed with the ability to transform social unrest into revolutionary action.

A şeyh’s spiritual magnetism allowed him to form a single, united movement from very diverse elements
and backgrounds. When these tarikat or quasi-tarikat groups crossed the fine line between the spiritual
and political realms, the Ottoman state intervened, frightful of the appeal of these movements which
often combined assertive messianic themes with programs of social and political reorganization. Many of
the early movements (like the Kızılbaş, Celalis and Bedrettinists) presented a significant threat to
Ottoman power, especially when they found support from rebellious princes or in neighboring Safavid
Persia. One of these movements that were consciously blurring the lines between spiritual and political
domains was the Bayrami-Melami tarikat.

FROM BAYRAMIS TO HAMZEVIS
The Bayrami tarikat (founded and named after Haji Bayram Veli, d. 1430 CE) grew to be one of the most
popular Sufi orders in the Ottoman Empire. Indeed its founder had gathered so much recognition that
Sultan Murad II sent officials to central Anatolia to investigate whether or not Haji Bayram posed a
potential threat as a leader of another revolutionary messianic movement. According to legend Sultan
Murad was so impressed with Haji Bayram’s godliness (and orthodoxy), that he became one of his
supporters. But the sultan was not the only one to be influenced by this meeting and the Bayrami tarikat
would be tied to the House of Osman for generations to come.

As mentioned above, the Ottomans had good reason to suspect the growing popularity of Haji Bayram or
any other şeyh who was gaining a large following among the masses. The added fact that Haji Bayram’s
initiatic chain (silsile) stemmed from the 11th century Melami movement from Khorasan by way of the
Safavid order did not help his standing.  The doctrines commonly associated with the Melamis were
considered nonconformist by the standards of many of the Ottoman ulema, and Haji Bayram either
purged or concealed these from the public in order to appease the apprehensive Ottoman court, which
had only recently suppressed a revolt lead by another very popular Sufi master, Bedrettin Simavi (d.
1420 CE).

Following Haji Bayram Veli’s death in 1429 CE, his order split into two contrasting branches. One became
the mainstream continuation of Haji Bayram’s legacy, and it was led by Haji Bayram’s halife Akşemsettin
(d. 1459 CE), who was also a member of the ulema class and intimately connected with the Ottoman
palace. The other branch, directed by an eccentric dervish named Ömer Sikkini (d. 1476 CE), sought to
revive the unorthodox Melami doctrines and practices that may have initially been taught by Haji
Bayram Veli but later seemingly abandoned. This branch came to be labeled the Melami-Bayrami, and it
was characterized by the ecstatic practices and an immoderate understanding of vahdet-i vucud. Ömer
Sikkini also accentuated certain messianic doctrines (which always carried certain political implications)
that were simply extensions of his interpretation of the concept of vahdet-i vucud. Having doctrinally
crossed the fine line between the spiritual to social realms, the Melami-Bayramis began to attract the
attention of the Ottoman administration, which was understandably fearful of nonconformist movements
that had social and political agendas. The two Melami kutbs that followed Ömer Dede, Binyamin Ayasi
and Pir ‘Ali Aksaray were both imprisoned by Ottoman authorities, most probably for allowing claims of
Mehdihood to be advanced on their behalf.  
The appearance of Oğlan Şeyh (also known as İsmail Ma’şuki) as a new Melami kutb brought the order
into open confrontation with Ottoman authorities. Oğlan Şeyh had begun to gather around him a number
of influential people in Istanbul through his open preaching of vahdet-i vucud.  Even though he was
merely upholding the credo of his two predecessors, the government put Oğlan Şeyh on trial for heresy
and he was publicly executed. In actuality the Ottoman administration (not the ulema however) was
never genuinely concerned with issues of religious doctrine. It was only when Oğlan Şeyh moved out of
the rustic milieu of Central Anatolia to the capital, where he acquired a literate and prominent following
that the government felt the need to eliminate him dreading serious upheaval.

Nevertheless Oğlan Şeyh’s followers continued to be active clandestinely. Several years after his
execution, in reaction to the persistent rumors of Melami activity, the government had the ulema issue a
fetva declaring that anyone who proclaimed Ismail Ma’şuki to have been killed unjustly was himself a
heretic deserving of death.  It is believed that during this second wave of persecution a successor of Oğlan
Şeyh, Husamettin Ankaravi (who was Hamza Bali’s master) was captured and executed in 1568 CE, after
a failed uprising – most probably based on some form of messianic claim.  Consequently the historical
stage had been set for Hamza Bali (d. 1573 CE), a charismatic and influential spiritual master, to become
one of the greatest martyrs of the Melami-Bayramis, which would eventually come to be known as the
Hamzeviyye.

Hamza Bali’s history prior to his succession as a Melami kutb is ambiguous. Though born in Bosnia, he left
in his youth to the imperial capital. There he became a Melami dervish at the hand of Husamettin
Ankaravi and soon developed a strong reputation. It is assumed that to avoid persecution he fled Istanbul
for his native Bosnia,  both to take refuge and to spread his teachings. He attracted many followers in
Bosnia through his dazzling personal charisma; as Sari Abdullah Efendi put it, “whoever came into his
presence, whether from the elite or the common people, would be drawn involuntarily to him.”  This
appeal must have been noteworthy, for Hamza Bali managed to gather a following beyond the borders of
Bosnia, extending as far north into Ottoman Hungary, as well as in Istanbul among already existing
Melami circles and members of the Janissary Corps.  Sources point to the fact that Hamza Bali carried his
role as the Melami kutb to a new extreme. According to Müniri Belgradi (d. 1617 CE), a contemporary of
Hamza Bali, Hamza was setting up a following that was comprised of very influential and elevated
individuals – dignitaries, notables, and the feared Janissaries, in Istanbul and throughout the empire,
against the sultan and his entourage.  Considering that the Hamzevis had an independent religious and
social organization, as well as the scale its following had reached, according to Müniri Belgradi, the
movement invokes the image of a very well-coordinated and particularly influential conspiracy against
the sultan and the established power-structure.
The Türbe (tomb) of Hamza Bali in
Istanbul.
THE HAMZEVI MOVEMENT & THE HURUFIS
While it is difficult with the information currently available to determine precisely what Hamza Bali
taught, and as to why he attracted so much attention from the government, it is possible to
speculate on some potential principles and concepts. Without doubt, the primary reason for the
intervention of Ottoman authorities was not doctrine in itself, but rather the political claims put
forth by many Hamzevi şeyhs that jeopardized the Ottoman power-structure. Still, it is important
to take into consideration that all these şeyhs at the outset shared a common source for their
influence, and that was the continuous doctrine transmitted through the Melami silsile. This
doctrine is essentially the source of the marked socio-political influence exerted by the Melami
şeyhs, which in turn forced the Ottoman government to resort to persecution. Consequently, it
becomes crucial to examine exactly what it was that was taught in Melami tekkes that caused so
much turmoil and unrest.

One source of the unclear teachings of Hamza Bali is the likely connection between the Hamzevis
and the Hurufis.  The Hurufi movement, initiated by Fazlullah Astarabadi (d. 1394 CE), began its
existence in Persia where it faced severe persecution. Despite this it eventually found solid and
lasting support in Anatolia and the Balkans. Fazlullah was seen by his followers “as the initiator of a
new religious dispensation in which the esoteric plan of the universe, alluded to symbolically in the
teachings of earlier religions, had become explicit.”  In addition, Fazlullah taught a radical new
interpretation of reality based on “new interpretations of Qur’anic texts, as for example the view
that everlasting reward and punishment promised in the Qur’an were symbolic descriptions of
states of knowledge and wisdom.”  For instance the Qur’anic description of how God first made the
heavens and the earth, and then “sat Himself upon the Throne” is taken by the Hurufis to “mean
the creation of Adam, explaining that ‘sitting’ is a metaphor for God’s imprinting a full image of
himself upon clay.”  In the end all of Fazlullah’s doctrines, including the very intricate science of
letters (ilm-i huruf), converged to demonstrate the most important and greatest of all secrets – that
man is the Divine.

To clarify this seemingly radical doctrine, Fazlullah taught believers that all of creation progresses
through a process of three cycles: “the cycle of prophethood (nubuvvet), from Adam to
Muhammad; that of sainthood (velayet), from ‘Ali to Fazlullah; and, beginning with Fazlullah, that of
divinity (uluhiyyet).”  With each successive cycle the secret behind creation is partly exposed, until
the coming of Fazlullah who ultimately reveals the secret in its completeness, and the cycle of
divinity is introduced, which “is a complete representation of the divine in human form.”  Hence it
becomes clear that Fazlullah is not only the Divine incarnation but the long-awaited “Seal of
Sainthood (hatem-i velayet), the Perfect Man (insan-i kamil), and the Mahdi.”
Before going into a deeper assessment of Hamzevi doctrine and examining possible allusions to
Hurufism, it is necessary to point out that at this stage in time one can only speculate since no
explicit material either proving or disproving a link has yet been discovered. It will make sense to
open our analysis with the most reliable sources available, which are the fetvas that ordered the
executions of Hamza Bali and Oğlan Şeyh. For Hamza Bali the verdict stated,
that he is a heretic (mulhid) and that he led Muslims astray urging them not to believe, likewise it
had been established that he put forward some views insulting the honor of Muhammad and that he
denied the resurrection and the Day of Judgment completely.

Of course it is possible to read all kinds of things into these accusations, but two points seem
suggestive of the above-mentioned Hurufiyye. Regardless of sectarian affiliation, any devout
Muslim would never think of making an affront to the nobility of the Prophet, unless what is meant
here by ‘insulting’ in the fetva has nothing to do with slander of some sort but rather a belief that
the era of his prophethood has come to an end and a new cycle of some sort (much like the one
unveiled through Fazlullah’s declarations) has superseded it and which is greater to the Prophet’s
for the reason that “each cycle is a progressively more explicit form of God’s self-manifestation.”  
The charge that Hamza Bali completely denied the “resurrection and the Day of Judgment” also
echoes of Hurufi concepts which assign these concepts symbolic rather than the literal meanings
upheld by the orthodox religious establishment.

Another accusation leveled against Hamza Bali was that he was a devotee of Oğlan Şeyh, whose own
execution was ordered based upon the following charges:

He preached immorality and eternity of this world; he did not accept the limits imposed by    the
law concerning halal and haram, he saw hell and paradise as relative concepts, and declared that
Allah incarnated Himself as man, in him.

If one studied this passage without knowing the context, one would most probably suspect these
two men of being Hurufis. By taking any one of these indictment, one finds Hurufi concepts in them.
For example, “eternity of this world” becomes clear if one thinks that for Hurufis acquiring
knowledge was the real meaning for entering heaven. In Hurufi thought once one became an initiate
and began acquiring true knowledge one entered heaven, which is an eternal place. Further, if the
Hurufi initiate was in heaven, then worldly laws and obligations no longer applied, which would
explain the charge that Oglan Seyh flouted the boundaries of halal and haram.  The last accusation,
that of hulul (Divine incarnation), is so clearly an echo of Fazlullah’s message about man’s divinity,  
that it makes the connection between Hurufis and Bayrami-Melamis (Hamzevis) even more
credible. This last and most important charge of hulul directed against Oğlan Şeyh is not simply an
unsubstantiated accusation, but is a belief actually confirmed in Ismail Ma’şuki’s own poetry in
which he proclaims, “my body is identical with God.”  Furthermore, one of Oğlan Şeyh’s disciples
and successors, Ahmet Sarban (d.1542 CE) , wrote in unmistakably Hurufi form,

O you who desire to see the Beloved,
Look with care on each person you see!
Know that the human mirror
Is the very form of the All-Merciul;
Come, look in the mirror,
And see in it that King!

İdris Muhtefi , a Hamzevi who lived in Istanbul in the years following Hamza’s execution, openly
makes reference to Fazlullah Astarabadi in one of his poems, and in another celebrates the Hurufi
concept of the ‘Seven Lines’ through which God is reflected in the face of man. Even in the absence
of such overt textual evidence, it would be possible to deduce a basic affinity between the Hurufis
and Hamzevis from the respective doctrines of the two groups.

Additional similarities between Hamzevi and Hurufi doctrines can be found in four sources
originating from 16th century Bosnia: an anti-Hamzevi poem, an ilmihal, and two letters written to
dissuade a Bosnian youth from involving himself further with the group.  While there are many
vague references to antinomianism in the first letter, the second letter presents a clearer connection
to Hurufiyya. Its author, a certain Mehmed Amiki (who was most certainly from among the ulema),
informs the young man that his Hamzevi şeyhs, “learning from others some secret but
misunderstood letters and words, have been deceived.”  He also refutes to the youth’s defense of
Hamzevi doctrine of hulul (the justification of which is given through particular verses from the Qur’
an ) by unequivocally discrediting this interpretation of the sacred scripture and then declaring
vahdet-i vucud to be a belief “contrary to the creed of the Ehl-i Sunna.”  

It is, however, the text of the ilmihal (a booklet on core Islamic beliefs and practices) that pairs the
Hamzevis with the Hurufis, and explicitly states that the two have allied themselves and together
“spread out in the world, and broadcasting to the people of Bosnia that their ulema were all
hypocrites in order to attain their objective of disseminating heretical doctrine.”

Ultimately, the issue that brought the Ottoman government down on the heads of the Hamzevis
was their refusal to recognize the legitimacy of the existing secular power due to their messianic
beliefs. Hurufis believed that a divine voice confirmed that Fazlullah was the Sahib-i Zaman or
“Lord of the Age,”  which is important to mention here because it is this same appellation that was
later utilized by Melamis to describe their own masters. For Melamis, the kutb (and for the Hurufis,
Fazlullah Astarabadi) was the authentic manifestation of the Divine; he was the Sahib-i Zaman and
the embodiment of Suret-i Rahman.  The Lord of the Age, the Mehdi, had come as a manifestation
of the Divine, whose duty, according to the Prophetic Hadith, it was to “fill the earth with equity and
justice just as it was filled with tyranny and oppression.”  

THE PLACE OF POETRY IN OTTOMAN SUFISM
Poetry in the Ottoman Empire was the chief means of expression for lovers, mystics, and
revolutionaries who used it as a medium for conveying all sorts of messages, ideas, and doctrines. It
was a highly developed, complex, and sophisticated literary art. At its heart was love poetry,
written to a beloved that more often than not used very ambiguous language. The obscurity of the
beloved’s true identity can range from gender-ambiguity to the unclear distinction between man
and God.

It is important for us two to make mention of Turkish poets here because they both directly or
indirectly influenced Mulhid Vahdeti’s work: Yunus Emre (d.1320) and Nesimi (d.1404).  Yunus
Emre shaped a poetic style that became the standard for a poetry that led to unifying Anatolian
culture, which was in turn inherited by the Ottomans. Yunus Emre was the first Turkish language
poet to unmistakably express the concept of vahdet-i vucud in his writings, which according to him
gives meaning to the purpose of human existence and undermines the concept of death as the final
end of all things:

Now I have found my own true self within.
It has happened – I saw God Almighty,
I had qualms about what might happen then.

Love of God becomes the driving concept behind this type of poetry, and the centrality of humanity
are emphasized so much that man becomes the center of the universe.
The late 14th century brought yet another poet to the fore who took these concepts a step further.
It was the gifted poet Nesimi who greatly influenced most Ottoman poets and whose poetry would
have long-raging effects on many Sufi orders, among them the Melami-Bayramis (and Hamzevis).
Nesimi was obviously influenced by both al-Hallaj and the Hurufi movement, and it is even said that
he was personally acquainted with Fazlullah Astarabadi.

The central concept that recurs throughout Nesimi’s quatrains (and a clear reflection of Hurufi
thought) is the Divinity of man (in the figure of Adam) in whose face God and His Word are
manifest.  

O thou whose face it is wherein is knowledge of the Book,
Through thy comeliness came the command, “Say: Enough”.
Thy countenance is the Truth. Take away the mask from the Truth.
This is the truth, and Allah knows best!

The Hurufis related to the physical body what, by normative Sufi standards, was meant only to be
applied to the soul. In standard Sufi parlance the ‘beloved’ is nothing other than the Divine, yet for
Hurufis the ‘beloved’ is none other than man as a Deity, containing all the attributes of God, and the
love for him is not a spiritual longing but it is real and tangible. Nesimi laid the foundation for all
later Hurufi poets in the Turkic milieu, including our poet Mulhid Vahdeti, who himself wrote poetry
in Turkish, and without doubt must have been acquainted with Nesimi’s poetry.

THE POEMS OF MULHID VAHDETI
Mulhid Vahdeti was clearly a Hurufi poet, but we can also assume that he was a Hamzevi, for the
reason that the Hamzevis themselves were most probably Hurufi influenced and, like Vahdeti, put
immense emphasis on vahdet-i vucud, and had conspicuous Shi’i inclinations.

The core idea in Vahdeti’s poetry (as his mahlas boldly proclaims) was the concept of vahdet-i
vucud, which was a particular sign of the Hamzevi inspiration. Vahdet-i vucud is a complex concept
that in direct extension to its most basic meaning – unity of being – teaches that life is a temporary
separation from God, and that after death man will be reunited with its source, i.e. God. This is, in
actual fact, the most recurring theme in Vahdeti’s verses, together with the Hurufi knowledge about
the hidden meaning of letters and numbers through which the essence of the world can be
unraveled.

Melami kutbs also understood vahdet-i vucud to mean man’s embodiment of the Divine, and that
by the time of Vahdeti’s generation the Melamis have clearly adopted Hurufi concepts to express
this. Nevertheless there are noticeable differences between the poetry of the generation of Oğlan
Şeyh and Ahmet Sarban and that of İdris Muhtefi. While they all express the same theme of radical
vahdet-i vucud through their poetry, they express it in a different way. Oğlan Şeyh and Ahmet
Sarban use more conventional Sufi terminology to express their understanding of vahdet-i vucud,
whereas İdris Muhtefi has completely embraced the language of the Hurufis to express the same
concept. For instance Ahmet Sarban states, “The kibla is man,” and Oğlan Şeyh says, “There can be
no place like Man for the manifestation of God’s essence,” while İdris Muhtefi proclaims in clear
Hurufi expression, “The Seven Lines are the ‘Mother of the Book’ (fatiha). They are the visible
testimony from God.”

The progression in Melami poetry towards the use of Hurufi terminology is a clear indicator of the
increasing Hurufi influence.  This gives us even more reason to classify our poet as a Hamzevi, as he
belonged to the same generation as İdris Muhtefi, who more than just adopting Hurufi terminology
and concepts, also makes clear reference to Fazlullah Astarabadi in one of his poems.  
Since the predominant theme in Mulhid Vahdeti’s Divan is vahdet-i vucud, it will also make sense to
begin our analysis with it. Probably the most demonstrative example of vahdet-i vucud among
Vahdeti’s verses is the following poem:

1  Although the body of a lover at the sight of the beloved gets lost,
He lives on in the spiritual world forever.  
2  When a drop reaches the sea, its body becomes invisible.
It is no more a drop, but becomes the seven seas.
3  The drop is truly water. When separated from water, it becomes a drop.
When it draws towards the water, it becomes water again.
4  The soul of the lover is a drop from the sea of the light of divinity.
When it reaches its beloved, it looses the body.
5  When a moth that’s in love throws itself into the candle,
It becomes fire and one with its beloved.  

On the surface this looks like an archetypical Sufi poem. In fact, it reminds one more of the early
Melami poetry which, while putting a lot emphasis on vahdet-i vucud and man’s divine status
through it, had not yet been as deeply influenced by Hurufism. In this poem Vahdeti is talking about
the ultimate source, Allah, who is seen at the moment of death when the soul leaves the body and is
united with the source in “the sea of the light of divinity.” Even so Hurufis, like anyone else, could
not deny the reality of death, and therefore they too believed that death was a brief interval
between divinity in this world and divinity in the next, barring that in the next life all the divine
souls are united with the source of all. As everything manifested itself through the Divine command “
kun!” (be), in a reversal of this everything must come back to that source. Everything is one, as
Vahdeti says:

The drop is truly water.
When separated from water it becomes a drop.
When it draws towards the water,
it becomes water again.

It is interesting to note that here he makes a distinction between reaching the sea and reaching the
beloved. When the soul reaches the source, the body only becomes imperceptible (verse 2), but
when the soul reaches the beloved, it looses the body (verse 4) – it becomes lost at the sight of the
beloved (verse 1). If the beloved and the source (God) are separate entities, then who is the
beloved? One possible explanation for this dilemma is that the beloved is none other than Fazlullah
Astarabadi.  At the sight of Fazlullah the body is lost in the sense that former concepts about the
body are lost, and its true significance recognized.

Vahdeti then concludes this poem with the common Sufi image of the moth so attracted to the light
of the fire and ends up annihilating itself in that fire –symbolic of the lover whose love for God
causes him to annihilate his self in God. For Hurufis no sacrifice of the self is needed, since the self is
divine. Therefore throwing the self into the fire could present many meanings. Perhaps Vahdeti
uses this to symbolize his becoming a follower of Fazlullah, which in the Ottoman Empire would
entail severe repercussions, and that this act was similar to throwing one’s self into the fire.
Although, of course, the benefit of recognizing Hurufi claims meant understanding one’s full
potential as divine.

There are also poems, which probably constitute the majority of his vahdet-i vucud poetry, in which
Vahdeti extols man, not only his soul, but also the physical body, and in particular the face. One of
these, with unquestionable Hurufi notions, is the following:

1  Open your eyes with surprise, look at your face, see your Lord.
You are the mirror of the light from the beauty of the praise of God.
2  In you is the essence of eternity, in you are the eternal attributes,
In you is the indisputable proof and the Sultan’s might.
3  To show the way to divinity, from the Mercy of God,
Came into existence 32 lines as the equivalent of the 32 points.
4  Towards your face the prostration was ordered, I too turn my prayer towards it.
The one who obeyed turned into an angel, the disobedient into a devil.
5  Your features are the revealed light of eternity.
Your face is the Ka’bah; in it the Qur’an was revealed.

This poem opens with Vahdeti telling the reader to look for the proof of his divinity in his own face,
where he will see his Lord (verse 1). In accordance with Hurufi belief, Vahdeti holds man to be of
utmost importance, and this can be found in the human face. The real meaning of eternity and the
eternal attributes (verse 2) within man is once again a reference to man’s divinity, because
according to normative Islamic teachings everything will ultimately vanish except the countenance
of God, who is the only absolute and everlasting entity. The eternal attributes are the ninety-nine
names of God, which of course are divine, and augment man’s divine status. In line 2, Vahdeti writes
the same thing that triggered the persecution of the Hamzevis in Bosnia and the Hurufis in Persia –
he proclaims that one who has comprehended his divinity is not only entitled to spiritual power but
to political power as well, that such an individual is the real “sultan.” The 32 letters mentioned in
verse 3 either elude to the Persian alphabet (which could in turn signify Fazlullah’s book, the
Javidannamah) or to the human face. Either interpretation would fit, since they are complimentary,
and they both “show the way to divinity.” In line 4 Vahdeti could mean anyone’s face, whoever
takes his advice and sees his lord in his own face, or he could mean Fazlullah, who was the first to
reveal the secret of the Divine on man, and who initiated the cycle of divinity. If he means here
Fazlullah, then anyone who accepts Fazlullah’s words becomes divine, but one who refuses to
acknowledge this message because of a refusal to acknowledge man’s divinity is equivalent to the
Şeytan who refused to prostrate to Adam when God ordered him to do so. By comparing the human
face to the Ka’bah, and by stating that in it the Qur’an was revealed, Vahdeti alludes to the Hurufi
concept of the seven lines that mark the human face, which are said to be the seven verses of the
opening chapter of the Qur’an (Fatiha), and the Fatiha in turn is said to be a summary of the entire
Qur’an.

Another part of the Divan consists of praise-poems (medihiyya), mostly celebrating Fazlullah or
Imam ‘‘Ali. In this particular poem Vahdeti refers to both of them, and possibly as one person, or as
parts of the same entity:

1   In ‘Ali’s hand are dagger, arrow, and double-edged sword,
Feather, word and speech, line and letter.
2   When people turn more hostile than dogs,
‘Ali, the Lion of God, becomes a refuge for the poor.
3   While he, Oh heart! revives the dead at every moment,
My soul ascends the heavens.
4   Thanks be to God, now, Oh Vahdeti!
Fazlullah and ‘Ali speak through your mouth.

The poem commences by talking about ‘Ali, with all his remarkable attributes, who is a refuge for
the poor and who protects them from wickedness. Then in verse 3 Vahdeti bestows on ‘Ali a
superhuman, possibly divine, attribute– “he revives the dead every moment.” While ‘Ali is reviving
the dead, the poet’s soul is ascending to heaven. This could be interpreted as ‘Ali reviving him from
ignorance (which is death), and taking him to heaven. The soul ascending to heaven could symbolize
Vahdeti slowly rising to his true identity as Divine, as he is being taught how to decipher secrets, by
‘Ali. The concluding verse actually reinforces this explanation, since after the he has acquired the
knowledge from ‘Ali, and from Fazlullah, Vahdeti himself has become as divine as they are, and he
becomes the spokesperson for the same message that Fazlullah and ‘Ali proclaimed before him. If
Fazlullah and ‘Ali are both physically gone from this world, then they have once again merged with
their source, and in reality there is no difference between Fazlullah and ‘Ali. This would yet again
prove another link between Vahdeti and the Hamzevis, since they proclaimed the same secret, the
secret of man’s divinity, which through direct implication entitled their kutbs to be sultans of the
seen as well as the unseen worlds.
In addition the poem shows that Vahdeti had deep veneration for Imam ‘Ali and the twelve Imams.
Mulhid Vahdeti dedicated many of his verses to the twelve Imams, and in one writes:

1    Come, heart, with the intention to take the road to Necef
Like the sun to prostrate ourselves to the castle of the Shah of Necef
2     The fields of heaven, the lotus tree, the Arş and the heavenly tree
Prostrate themselves to the palms and grass of Necef
3     With the naked sword the sun conquered the sky
Even though it is married to the light of the moon of Necef
4     The Mountain of Kef and heavenly spheres, Jerusalem and Sinai
Search for refuge in the dust around the house of Necef
5     Vahdeti, the sun and moon, night and day rise and fall
Guide mark for jinns and men is the bright light pointing to Necef.   

As mentioned above, we know that Vahdeti visited the shrines of the Imams, which would definitely
lead us to believe that he was most probably a Shi’i, just like the Melamis. But unlike normative Shi’
is, Vahdeti circuitously attributes divinity to Imam ‘Ali (verse 2):

The fields of heaven, the lote tree, the Arş and the heavenly tree
Prostrate themselves to the palms and grass of Necef

The “fields of heaven” might be referring to humanity, and there is reference to Prophet
Muhammad, through mention of the lote tree, the heavenly tree beyond which is God, and beyond
which none can pass. Finally the Divine Throne (Arş), is a clear reference to God. So everyone and
everything prostrates to Imam ‘Ali’s shrine, which could be taken to imply his not only his divinity
but his superiority over everyone, including Prophet Muhammad, as well. This could also be an
allusion to Fazlullah’s theory of the three cycles of existence. Imam ‘Ali, who started the second
cycle (that of velayet), which is superior to the first that was closed by Prophet Muhammad
(nubuvvet), is by inference, superior.

The next group of poems we will examine can be called love poetry. Some of this poetry full of
graphic descriptions of the beloved that it would make us believe that Vahdeti was referring to
worldly desires. But we have to remember that for him the beautiful object of his love is not just a
mirror of the Divine, but the very face of God. If we were created based on this concept, then there
is nothing in God that wouldn’t be in man.

1  You have captured my heart, oh you covered up cypress.
My bloody tears are boiling.
2  The cup of your love made me completely drunk,
So let it be! A lover must be drunk and unreasonable.
3  Know, before the water of life will not bow
The one, who had a drink from the glass of your lips.
4  My bones will be scattered all over the earth,
But my heart and my soul will not forget your love.
5  Your face gives light to the moon and the sun,
To the stars it is a pearl in the earring.

This poem is very much like a typical love poem of the period, and does not even necessarily sound
like a mystical poem. Vahdeti could be talking about any beautiful person that might have captured
his glance, or even an imaginary beloved, just to make clear the power of the divine human face. But
this might also be addressed to Fazlullah Astarabadi. There are some ambiguous verses that if
interpreted another way, allude to him as the beloved. Fazlullah, “the covered up cypress,” whose
divinity was disguised from the lover by the lover’s own ignorance, has now revealed himself by
teaching the lover how to decipher the hidden beauty of the human face. Upon recognizing the
Divine, the lover’s “bloody tears” being boiling. This knowledge then makes him appear “drunk”
(outlandish – like a heretic) to both society and the orthodox religious establishment. The water of
life, if brought in connection to a previous poem,  could mean the source of all divinity – God. So the
lover is persistent, and tells the ulema that he will not bow before God; he does not have to bow
before God, because he heard Fazlullah’s teachings (“the glass of his lips”), which have taught him
that he is God. Then the last line of the poem would simply mean that the divine face of Fazlullah is
the source of light for the sun and moon.

The next poem might also be considered a love poem, but it is very obviously talking about God as
the beloved.

1   Hidden in every heart, clear to the eye You are
In all these mirrors visible You are
2   I saw You in your completeness in my heart and eye
In every particle the cosmos, in every drop the sea You are
3   I saw beauty and tenderness and recognized your face
The exalted Firdevs and elevated Arş You are
4   To show Fazlullah to the Aşıks
In ever face the polished mirror You are
5   The lofty Ka’bah who day and night angels
And heavens with stars circumambulate You are
6   Soul, if you are Adam’s father, hear what I will say:
Sum of all God’s names You are
7   Oh Vahdeti, if you reached the unity of Truth
The light of Ehad and Vahid at once You are

While Vahdeti describes God, in the very first line he nevertheless makes it clear that he is not just
a Sufi, but a Hurufi. The opening of the sentence (“hidden in the heart”) is a very common
expression among Sufis, especially since it refers to a saying of the Prophet.   But when Vahdeti goes
on to say that God is perceptible to the eye, he clearly crosses the boundary between normative
mysticism and Hurufism. Verses two and three refer to his concept of vahdet-i vucud – everything
is God and God is everything. In verse four Fazlullah, the physical manifestation of the divine on
earth, came to guide the lovers (aşıks) by revealing himself to them. But who is the “You”, if it is not
Fazlullah and it does not seem to be God? It is the poet himself, who knew that he had divinity
inside of him, but did not realize, until he “reached the unity of Truth” that he is the ultimate
divinity, that he is the One (Vahid) and the Unique (Ehad).

To end with, there are a small group of the poems in Vahdeti’s Divan that are satirical poems
criticizing the ulema class:

1  With this my dispute, the ulema were not satisfied.
“Ulema,” say I, but think not that I talk about knowers.
2  I talk about the  ignorant who have seized the ulema-title,
That is, a hoard, who elevated themselves with the villains of their time.
3  How can someone discuss a matter, that he doesn’t know,
Even more so, if his mind and reason are weak,
4  What can this ignoramus know, who doesn’t understand the essence
and attributes of God.
How can an ignorant devil be a follower of the Prophets?

Since the ulema were utilized and sponsored by the Ottoman State to develop an orthodox system
that would be supportive of the general interests of the empire, the ulema were aware that the only
purpose for their existence was the legal interpretations that they had created. Naturally they were
the bitterest enemies of nonconformist religious movements, which threatened their existence.

Accordingly, it is not surprising to find the level of antagonism and animosity against the ulema one
finds in Vahdeti’s poetry. But Vahdeti not only ridicules the ulema, but also their employers, the
state authorities, whom he calls the “villains of their time.” The first line of the last couplet is a
reference to Hurufism, which the ulema abhorred. Vahdeti says that the ulema do not understand
the “essence” and “attributes” of God, because they refuse to recognize these in themselves. The
second line of the last verse is also a direct Hurufi teaching. By describing the ulema as devils, he
compares them to the Şeytan, who also refused to recognize the divinity of man.

“In accordance with the time in which Vahdeti lived,” states Ilić, “these satirical poems could be
referring to the Bosnian Mullah Bali Efendi and his representative Hasan Kafi al-Akhisari (d. 1619
CE), who distinguished themselves in the persecution of heretical sects at the end of the 16th
century.”  If this is true then that would be again a link between Mulhid Vahdeti and the Hamzevis,
since the work of uprooting the Hamzevis was entrusted primarily to Bali Efendi of Sarajevo, the
supreme kadi of Bosnia. After interrogation the Hamzevis of the Tuzla region, Bali Efendi, (as Ata’i
records it) “performed the valuable service of causing, with artery-severing sword of the Shari’ah,
the heads of twelve of the misguided to roll.” He was aided in the task by Hasan Kafi of Akhisar
(Prusac), possibly the greatest scholar of the Islamic sciences produced by Bosnia in the Ottoman
period.

CONCLUSION
Were the Hamzevis Hurufis? And given the overt Hurufism of Mulhid Vahdeti, was he a Hamzevi?
These are the two questions that we have tried to answer in this paper. It is very likely that the
Hamzevis were Hurufis based on the many similarities and intersections of their teachings. It is
additionally probable that Mulhid Vahdeti was a Hamzevi, more so because he was a native of
eastern Bosnia, a region where the Hamzevis were active in his youth. If our poet was a Hamzevi
then that would explain many unanswered questions, and he would be a solid link between the
Hamzevis were Hurufis. If he is our link then that opens up some explanations for the immense
attraction that the Hamzevi kutbs possessed. It also gives a new perspective on the Hamzevi
movement. It makes one think again about terms like “orthodox” and “heterodox” “normative” and
“nonconformist” after Mulhid Vahdeti points out to us the absurdity of these terms in the Reality.
Who is to judge what God means to different people? But given that in the end the Hamzevi
movement was not solely about theology, but also social and political issues, the heterodox
movements became political and not religious misunderstanding as opposed to the state-supported
orthodox establishment.
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Mulhid Vahdeti:
A 16th-century Bosnian
Hurufi Poet

                                            by Emin Lelić