KHOMEINI ii. WORKS

Prodigiously erudite and energetic, Ruhollah Khomeini left as part of his legacy a vast and varied corpus of written work. The emphases reflected in it changed or were modified at various stages in his scholarly and political career, but insofar as his spiritual and intellectual personality remained stable throughout, it will be appropriate to examine his writings by category rather than chronology. Inevitably, there is a certain overlap between some categories, given the permeation of many of Khomeini’s works by the concerns of ʿerfān (q.v.). For a listing of twenty-seven of his works in order of publication see Ḥożur, Ḵordād 1376/June-July 1997, p. 126.

ON RITUAL PRAYER (NAMĀZ) AND SUPPLICATORY PRAYER (DOʿĀ)

(1) Serr al-ṣalāt: Meʿrāj al-sālekin wa ṣalāt al-ʿārefin (in Persian; completed in 1939). A relatively compact exposition of the occult mysteries or inward meanings of prayer, this work has been characterized as “the most difficult of all texts by the Imam” (Bonaud, p. 123), in part because of the complex terminology employed. It is self-evident, Khomeini proclaims (pp. 10-11), that the prayer of the wayfarer (sālek) to the divine presence is quite different from that of “the perfect friend of God” (wali-e kāmel) who has completed his spiritual ascension (meʿrāj-e ruḥi). He discusses in turn the various degrees of the presence of the heart (pp. 3-33); ritual purity (pp. 34-54); the place where the prayer is performed (pp. 55-59); the times for which prayer is prescribed (pp. 60-64); orientation to the Kaʿba (pp. 65-66); standing as the prayer is about to begin (qiām) (pp. 72-73); the forming of intention (niyat) (pp. 74-76); the raising of the hands at the beginning of the prayer (pp. 76-80); the seeking of protection from God (esteʿāḏa) (pp. 83-85); the Qur’anic verses to be recited, with particular attention to al-Fāteḥa (pp. 85-93); genuflection (rokuʿ; pp. 94-99); prostration (sojud; pp. 99-107); uttering the profession of faith (tašahhod) and the salām that conclude the prayer (pp. 108-15); and the threefold takbir that follows its termination (pp. 116-17). It was first published in Yād-nāma-ye šahid Mortażā Moṭahhari (ed. ʿAbd al-Karim Soruš, Tehran, 1981, pp. 31-106), followed by a preliminary edition published in Qom (n.d.) under the title Asrār-e namāz. Sayyed Aḥmad Fehri’s Parvāz dar malakut yā Asrār-e maʿnawi-e namāz (Qom, 1981) incorporates much of Khomeini’s work. The definitive edition is that published in Tehran in 1996; it has an introduction by ʿAbdollāh Jawādi Āmoli and includes the autograph manuscript of Khomeini (xxx 169 96 pp.).

(2) Ādāb al-ṣalāt: Ādāb-e namāz (in Persian; completed in 1942). Its subject and purpose is much the same as that of Serr al-ṣalāt: the exposition of the esoteric meanings of prayer. The earlier work was, however, relatively concise and written in the language of the gnostic elite, “not suited to the commonalty. I decided therefore to write a few lines concerning the states of the heart in that spiritual ascension, in the hope that my brothers in faith reflect upon them with benefit to their hardened hearts” (Tehran edition of 1991, p. vii). “The few lines” occupy a total of 381 pages. The first section of the work discusses the inward norms (ādāb) that must be observed in all acts of worship—awareness of God’s omnipotence, humility toward Him, protecting oneself from the wiles of Satan, inward serenity (ṭomaʾnina), and presence of the heart and preventing its disruption by worldly attachment (pp. 7-53). The second section deals with the preliminaries to the prayer—ritual purity, clothing to be worn during prayer, the place where prayer is performed, the times at which prayer is mandatory, and orientation to the Kaʿba and its connection to man’s primordial nature (feṭrat) (pp. 55-120). The third and lengthiest section, divided into thirty-eight chapters, analyses each component of the prayer with reference to relevant verses of the Qurʾan and their esoteric meaning; particular attention is paid to the chapters al-Fāteḥa,al-Eḵlāṣ, and al-Qadr (pp. 120-369). Prefaced to the 1991 edition are letters Khomeini wrote in 1984 to his son, Aḥmad, and his daughter-in-law, Fāṭema Ṭabāṭabāʾi (whom he affectionately addresses as “Fāṭi” on this as on other occasions), exhorting them to read and benefit from the work; it was presumably a manuscript copy he placed at their disposal (pp. xiii-xvii).

(3) Sarḥ doʿā al-saḥar (in Arabic; completed in 1929). A commentary on the supplicatory prayer recited by Imam Moḥammad al-Bāqer (q.v.) before the onset of dawn throughout the month of Ramadan. In it, the Imam invokes twenty-three divine qualities; thus, the first supplication reads as follows: “O my God! I ask of You by Your most splendid splendor—and all of Your splendor is the most splendid—I request of You all Your splendor.” Each separate manifestation of a divine attribute is, by definition, the most perfect manifestation of the entire attribute (1983 ed., p. 21). Khomeini completed this work when he was a mere twenty-seven years of age and had just begun studying with Mirzā Moḥammad ʿAli Šāhābādi soon after the gnostic’s arrival in Qom (see KHOMEINI i. LIFE, p. 545). He refers to him reverentially as “our shaikh” at several points in the book, and cites also a wide range of earlier authorities, including Mirzā Jawād Maleki (d. 1925), ʿAbd-al-Razzāq Kāšāni, Mir Dāmād (q.v), and Mollā Ṣadrā (q.v.). The work was first published in 1980 in a Persian translation by Aḥmad Fehri (Tehran, 280 pp.); three years later, Fehri oversaw the publication of the Arabic original (Tehran, 168 pp.).

ON ʿERFĀN

(1) Meṣbāḥ al-hedāya elā’l-ḵelāfa wa’l-welāya (in Arabic; completed in 1930). It was published in Tehran in 1993, edited and with a prologue in Persian by Jalāl-al-Din Āštiāni (d. 2005) that is far lengthier than the work itself (pp. 11-167); Khomeini’s text, separately paginated, occupies a mere seventy-nine pages (pp. 11-90).

The title of the work, Meṣbāḥ al-hedāya (“The Lamp of Guidance”), alludes to Qur’an, 24:35, Āyat al-nur: “The similitude of His light is a niche wherein is a lamp.” The text is accordingly divided into two “niches” (meškāt), the first of which contains no fewer than fifty-six “lamps” (pp. 13-42). The first of those fifty-six “lamps” seeks to “unveil some of the mysteries of the Vicegerency of Moḥammad (al-ḵelāfat al-moḥammadiya) and the Loyal/Intimate Friendship of ʿAli (al-welāyat al-ʿalawiya) in the realm of knowledge, together with an infinitesimal fragment of the station of prophethood, conveyed by means of the symbols and allusions employed by the masters of gnosticism among the truest followers (ḵollaṣ) of the Ahl al-Bayt” (p. 13).

The second “niche” is devoted to expounding “the mysteries of ḵelāfa, welāya, and nobowwa on the plane of the unseen and the worlds of command and creation” (p. 43). In it are placed three “lamps”; the first seeks to illumine “the inflaming of the heart by breezes from the World of Command proceeding from the breath of the All-Compassionate (al-nafas al-raḥmāni),” expounded in twenty-one “lights” (pp. 43-58). The second of the three “lamps” in this second “niche” shines light on “the mystery of ḵelāfa, nobowwa, and welāya that the plane of the unseen and the lights of the divine intellect disclose to you; it contains within it truths relating to faith and luminous paths of ascension (maṭāleʿ), permitting you gradually to attain the perfections of humanity”; the “paths of ascension” set forth are thirteen in number (pp. 59-81). The third and last of the “lamps” sheds light on “the mysteries of ḵelāfa,nobowwa, and welāya on the manifest plane of creation, as well as the occult purpose (serr) for the sending of the prophets, upon whom be peace, and their rank with respect to our Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him and his family.” This purpose is accomplished by twelve wamiż (“flashes of lightning”) (pp. 81-90).

Setting forth a highly complex metaphysical scheme, replete with arcane terminology, this work is clearly intended for a specialized readership. It is not without reason that Āštiāni, the editor, encourages the reader to study his own lengthy introduction before engaging with the text itself. Khomeini himself emphasizes as a prerequisite for its understanding acquaintance with the works of Avicenna (q.v.), Ebn ʿArabi (q.v.), Mollā Ṣadrā, and other authorities, all of whom he cites frequently. At the same time, he promises the reader new doctrinal insights (p. 86). Perhaps anticipating criticism precisely of those insights, Khomeini warns his readers, “beware of revealing these mysteries to the unqualified” (p. 90). Given the complexities of the text, it is unlikely that the ordinary believer would even have attempted to embark on its study. What may have been on his mind was, perhaps, the hostility to ʿerfān still prevailing in Qom at the time, despite the presence there of Mirzā Moḥammad ʿAli Šāhābādi.

(2) Taʿliqa ʿalā Šarḥ Foṣuṣ al-ḥekam (in Arabic; completed in 1936). This provides notes on the Maṭlaʿ ḵoṣuṣ al-kalem fimaʿāni Foṣuṣ al-ḥekam, a commentary by Dāʾud Qayṣari (d. 751/1350) on the Foṣuṣ al-ḥekam of Ebn ʿArabi.

(3) Taʿliqa ʿalā Meṣbāḥ al-ons (in Arabic). This provides notes on Meṣbāḥ al-ons (more fully, Meṣbāḥ al-ons bayn al-maʿqul wa’l-mašhud fi šarḥ Meftāḥ al-ḡayb) by Moḥammad Fanāri (d. 834/1431), commonly known as Mollā Fenāri. As the full title indicates, Meṣbāḥ al-ons is a commentary on the Meftāḥ al-ḡayb al-jamʿ wa’l-wojud of Ṣadr al-Din Qonavi (d. 673/1274), one of the principal associates of Ebn ʿArabi. Khomeini studied this work and the preceding one with Šāhābādi, and his notes on the two have been published together in one volume as al-Taʿliqāt ʿalā Šarḥ Foṣuṣ al-ḥekam wa Meṣbāḥ al-ons (Tehran, 1985, repr. 1989, 322 pp.). Numerous passages have been translated with extensive commentary by Christian Bonaud (passim).

Noteworthy is Khomeini’s complex analysis of the five divine “Presences” (ḥażarāt) and their difference from the “Worlds” (ʿawālem); the former relate to the divine dimension of the universe, and the latter to its earthly dimension. Presence is the prerogative of the Truth (al-ḥaqq), while manifesting something is a quality of creation (al-ḵalq). Each of the Worlds is a locus for the manifestation of one of the Presences, and both Presences and Worlds can be enumerated in corresponding series of five. The five Presences are the following: al-ḡayb al-moṭlaq, absolute hiddenness, this being the hidden dimension of the supreme name (al-esm al-aʿẓam); al-aḥadiya al-ẓohuriya, manifested oneness, i.e., the manifested dimension of the supreme name; al-wāḥediya al-ḡaybiya, the hidden dimension of the divine names (al-ḡayb al-możāf); al-wāḥediya al-ẓohuriya, the manifested dimension of the divine names; and al-šahāda al-moṭlaqa, the manifested aspect of the “sacred emanation” (al-fayż al-aqdas). As for the Worlds, they are al-serr al-wojudi, the existential secret; al-kawn al-jāmeʿ, the all-inclusive being; al-ensān al-kāmel, the perfect man; al-aʿyān al-ṯābeta, the hidden dimension of the fixed archetypes; and al-aʿyān al-ṯābeta al-ʿelmiya, the manifest dimension thereof (al-Taʿliqāt, pp. 32-4; see also Kiashemshaki, pp. 239-40).

(4) Leqāʾ Allāh (in Persian). This is a brief undated essay on the occasions and modalities of “meeting with God”. This was published as a supplement to the Resāla-ye Leqāʾ Allāh of Ḥājj Mirzā Jawād Maleki, edited with an introduction and footnotes by Sayyed Aḥmad Fehri (Tehran, 1981); another edition, prepared by Ṣādeq Ḥasanzāda, includes also a brief treatise on the subject by Fayż-e Kāšāni (q.v.; d. 1679) in addition to that by Khomeini (Tehran, 1992). Referring his readers to Maleki’s work for a fuller treatment of the subject, Khomeini argues that certain scholars and exegetes have blocked the path to meeting with God; they deny the witnessing of the manifestations of the divine essence and attributes, motivated in so doing by a wish to protect the divine transcendence. They interpret all the relevant verses and traditions as referring exclusively to the hereafter and the day on which reward and punishment will be dispensed. Their error is proven by Qurʾan, 53:8, which describes the ascension (meʿrāj) of the Prophet to the divine presence, and the purport of the Monājāt-e šaʿbāniya, the whispered invocation of God made by Imam ʿAli and the other Imams of the Ahl al-Bayt during the month of Šaʿbān. It is necessary in such matters to transcend formal knowledge (ʿelm), failing which it will act as a barrier (Leqāʾ Allā h, pp. 253-60).

(5) Ḥāšiya bar Asfār (in Persian; marginal notes on the Asfār al-arbaʿa of Mollā Ṣadrā). The attribution to Khomeini of a work with this title is uncertain. A hadith qodsi, found in both Sunni and Shiʿi sources, reads as follows: “I hesitate (ma taradadtu) in nothing that I do except the death of My believing servant who does not wish to die; I, too, dislike his predicament.” In this Ḥāšiya, Khomeini is said to have taken issue with Ṣadrā’s interpretation in the Asfār of the divine “hesitation” (taraddod), but since it has never been published the nature of his objection is unclear (Moḥammad Ḥasan Aḥmadi Faqih-e Yazdi, “Mafhum-e taraddod dar aḥādiṯ,” Kayhān-e andiša 18, Ḵordād-Tir 1367/June-July 1988, p. 40). It is likewise unknown whether the Ḥāšiya extended to more than this one criticism, but given Khomeini’s engagement with the Asfār during his early years in Qom, it seems likely that he did indeed compile a series of notes on the work.

COMMENTARIES ON QURʾAN AND HADITH

(1) Tafsir-e Sura-ye ḥamd (in Persian). This consists of the text of five lectures delivered on the Iranian television program, Qorʾān dar ṣaḥna, between 17 December 1979 and 11 January 1980; they were discontinued when a petition protesting against their ʿerfān-oriented content was launched by Javād Tehrāni, a cleric in Mashhad (see KHOMEINI i. LIFE, p. 558). By the time of their curtailment, Khomeini had not proceeded beyond the first two verses of this, the opening chapter of the Qurʾan. Several editions exist of this work, including one with a preface by ʿAli-Aṣḡar Rabbāni Ḵalḵāli and an introduction by Sayyed Mehdi Lājvardi: Tafsir-e Sura-ye mobāraka-ye ḥamd (Tehran, 1989; 131 pp.). Preferable, however, is the Tehran, 1996 edition, which supplements the text of his lectures (pp. 93-193) with extracts from his other works, such as Serr al-ṣalāt and Ādāb al-ṣalāt, to provide a complete commentary on Surat al-fāteḥa.

By way of prelude, Khomeini disclaims any intention of providing a comprehensive or authoritative treatment of this sura, warning at the same time against biased interpretations of the Qur’an by various categories of the unqualified, who seek to portray it as concerned exclusively either with the affairs of this world or with spiritual concerns. He then examines in detail the basmala (“In the Name of God”; see BESMELLĀH), the phrase that stands at the beginning of every sura with the exception of the ninth, al-Tawba. It is probable, he suggests, that it is not simply an opening formula, but syntactically connected to the verses that follow it, in this and other suras. The names of God are signs of His Sacred Essence, something that lies beyond the reach of man; His Essence is unknown to all but Itself. They may be understood at different levels, corresponding to the spiritual capacities of individuals. A name, moreover, is not only verbal, for the whole world is composed of signs, effectively names, that point to the divine essence, in that nothing comes into existence by itself and is dependent on that intrinsically existent Essence; contingent being points to necessary being. The divine perfections are reflected in all beings, even the inanimate and the material; by virtue of their mere existence, they glorify God. All things are, in this sense, names of God—every breath that one takes, every heartbeat and movement of the pulse (pp. 93-103).

As for the name “Allāh,” it is a comprehensive manifestation of God that embraces all other manifestations, and the attributes al-Raḥmān al-Raḥim that follow it in the basmala are manifestations of that manifestation. Taken together, these first two verses of Surat al-fāteḥa indicate, then, that all instances of praise and admiration, including those made by individuals, inanimate objects, and heavenly bodies, ultimately revert to God; al-ḥamd is generic in meaning. Rational perception of the foregoing does not suffice; it must be conveyed to the heart for it to have an effect on one’s life, to raise man from his defective state to one that befits him (pp. 103-13).

Given the fact that the basmala does not simply introduce each sura but is syntactically connected to it, its precise meaning varies in each instance. In the case of al-Fāteḥa, it may therefore be interpreted as the instrument whereby praise is offered: “Praise be to God by means of the name of God.” Every instance of praise, by whomever it is uttered, takes place by means of God’s name, and it is effectively He who is praising Himself. Another possibility is that al-ḥamd is not generic, but absolute praise without condition or limitation, which in its nature is beyond the abilities of man; the sense of al-ḥamdu le’llāh then becomes, “God, and God alone, praises Himself as He deserves.”

Comprehension of much of the foregoing depends on “migrating” from the self toward God and “being overtaken by death,” i.e., losing all awareness of self. This constitutes the “greater jihad” (jehād-e akbar), which is a prerequisite for the “lesser jihad” (jehād-e aṣḡar), i.e., armed conflict with the enemy (pp. 114-31).

God’s relation to creation is not analogous to that of a father with his son, or of the sun with its rays, but one of manifestation, as indicated by Qurʾan, 8:17: “When you cast the dust, you did not cast it; rather God cast it.” This, together with the two interpretations of praise, generic and pertaining to God alone, can be understood by inductive reasoning, but it ranks lower than the perceptions and visions of the prophets and the awliāʾ (q.v.). The language of the Qurʾan has seven or even seventy levels of meaning, and it is only the lowest thereof that is addressed to the commonalty. The Qurʾan, indeed, is not verbal in essence; it was “sent down on the Night of Power” (Qurʾan, 97:1) in the sense that it assumed a verbal form entrusted to the heart of the Prophet, in a visionary experience, for him to convey to mankind (pp. 132-55).

It is in the nature of things, however, that mankind cannot grasp the full meaning of the divine message. Formal knowledge, moreover, whether it be feqh (q.v.), gnosticism, philosophy, or the natural sciences, if pursued as a goal in its own right, leads to arrogance and presents a further obstacle to true comprehension of the divine word. What is needed is to “rise up for God” (Qurʾan, 34:46), i.e., to awaken from love of the self and all to which it is attached. Prayer, correctly understood and performed, and supplicatory invocations such as the Doʿā-ye Komayl (see DOʿĀ), are the most effective means for so doing (pp. 132-55).

Returning to the analysis of the basmala, Khomeini emphasizes that the bāʾ is not causative, for God’s manifestation is not a matter of cause and effect, nor is His praise caused by His name. He briefly considers a tradition attributed to Imam ʿAli in which he identifies himself with the dot under the bāʾ, before analyzing the series of divine names mentioned in Qurʾan, 59:23. Those names fall into three categories with respect to their relationship with the name Allāh: Allāh stands for the Essence as such, and the names following it are in apposition to it; Allāh stands for the manifestation of the Essence, and the names following it are the means for that manifestation; and Allāh stands for the active manifestation of the Essence by means of the divine acts, and the names following it indicate those acts. Similarly complex is the understanding of two apparently contradictory pairs of attributes: “the First and the Last, the Outward and the Inward” (Qurʾan, 57:3). Whatever the mode and degree of understanding man may attain, the matter is simple: “there is nothing other than God; whatever is, is He” (p. 146). As for “the Most Beautiful Names” (Qurʾan, 17:110), they are present in all the divine attributes in absolute fashion. Another pair of terms germane to the discussion is “the unseen and the manifest” (al-ḡayb wa’l-šahāda). It may mean that even the natural world has a dimension that is “unseen,” imperceptible to all but the prophets and the awliāʾ. After a final discussion of al-Raḥmān al-Raḥim and their connection to Allāh, Khomeini warns against denial of that which lies beyond one’s immediate understanding and perception and is expounded by the mystics and gnostics. The Qurʾan is like a banquet of which all can partake according to their capacities and appetites (pp.156-74).

He repeats the same metaphor in the fifth and final lecture, aware, no doubt, of the growing unease his philosophical-gnostic approach was causing in some quarters. By way of further clarification, he cites the celebrated story in Rumi’s Maṯnawi about an Arab, a Persian, and a Turk arguing, each in his own language, over what fruit they should eat, until it turns out they all wanted some grapes. Somewhat analogously, the philosophers, the mystics, and the foqahāʾ use different terminologies for that which lies beyond verbal encapsulation—the nature of reality. The closest thereto is the terminology deployed by the gnostics, grounded as it is in the supplicatory prayers of the Imams of the Ahl al-Bayt, particularly the Doʿā-ye Šaʿbān, which was recited by all of them. “Manifestation,” for example, is preferable to the notions of causality used by the philosophers. This being the case, mysticism may not be casually dismissed. When he first went to Qom, Khomeini reminisces, the exponents of ʿerfān were viewed with much suspicion, but Šāhābādi, his principal instructor in the subject, insisted on addressing a group of visiting merchants on some of its topics. In similar fashion, Khomeini now finds it “incorrect to divide people into categories and pronounce some incapable of understanding these matters” (pp. 175-93). The fifth lecture turned out, however, to be the last. (An annotated translation by Hamid Algar is in Khomeini, Islam and Revolution, pp. 365-434.)

(2) Tafsiri az sura-ye ʿalaq (in Persian; n.p, n.d, 26 pp). This is a lecture on the first four verses of Qur’an, 96. The strictly exegetical part of the text is brief; it serves as point of departure for declaring that Islam is not properly understood or known by the secular jurists who have opposed the declaration of an Islamic Republic (pp. 12, 15). Its laws are immutable, and the executions it ordains are a form of mercy, comparable to the amputation of a decaying limb by a surgeon in order to preserve the life of the body (p. 13). As for the Westerners who denounce the nascent Islamic Republic, their concept of freedom is the ability to engage in gambling while half-naked (p. 26).

(3) Taʿliqa ʿalā Šarḥ ḥadiṯ raʾs al-jālut, also known as al-Taʿliqa ʿalā al-Fawāʾed al-rażawiya (in Arabic; Qom, 1996, 190 pp.). This is probably identical with the Šarḥḥadiṯ raʾs al-jālut that Khomeini is said to have completed in 1929 (see Rāzi, Āṯār al-ḥojja, II, p. 45, and Dašti, p. 46). This consists of notes by Khomeini appended to the commentary by Qāżi Saʿid b. Moḥammad Mofid Qomi (q.v.; d. ca. 1107/1695) on a curious hadith recording an exchange between Imam Reżā and the exilarch (raʾs al-jālut), head of the Jewish community in the Abbasid realm (see POLEMICS i. BETWEEN SHIʿITES AND JEWS); precisely when or where these meetings took place is unclear. The exilarch is said to have asked the Imam: “What are unbelief and faith (imān); what are the two forms of unbelief (kofrān); what are paradise and the fires (nirān); and what are the two satans (al-šayṭānān) both of whom are desired (marjowān)?” He then claimed that all the foregoing are mentioned in Surat al-Raḥmān. This clearly not being the case, the Imam chose initially to ignore the question, which emboldened the exilarch to pose another query: “What is the one, the self-multiplier, the multiple that singularizes itself, the created that creates, the fluid that is solid, the defective that is superfluous?” The Imam then decided to respond to both questions, assigning meaning even to the terms absent from Surat al-Raḥmān. Duly impressed, the exilarch forthwith professed his belief in Islam (text of the exchange, pp. 45-76). Qāżi Saʿid’s commentary explains each of the terms involved, and Khomeini’s comments on his commentary, printed in the form of lengthy, unnumbered footnotes to the text, offer further elucidation. Thus, “the self-multiplier, the multiple” (al-motakaṯṯer al-mowaḥḥed) is the world of the first entification (al-taʿayyon al-awwali) which despite its intense luminosity and the perfection of its essence, does not lack multiplicity within itself. However, at the same time, it is exalted above matter and transcends all forms of attachment, as well as spatiality and temporality (pp. 98-100).

(4) Šarḥ-e čehel ḥadiṯ (Arbaʿin ḥadiṯ), a commentary on forty hadith, (Tehran, 1992, 800 pp.). Completed in 1939, this is the first and lengthiest book Khomeini wrote in Persian; it is not known when he embarked on it. The title refers to a tradition found in both Sunni and Shiʿi sources, with slightly variant wording. The following is that cited by Khomeini at the very beginning of his work: “Whosever from my community preserves/memorizes (ḥafeẓa) forty hadith beneficial to it will be raised by God on the Day of Resurrection as a jurist and scholar” (p. 1). Khomeini was by no means the first Shiʿi scholar to select forty traditions deemed to meet the criterion of general utility; in this, he had been preceded by, among others, Shaikh Ṣaduq Ebn Bābawayh, (q.v.; d. 381/991) in al-Keṣāl (Qom, 1983, pp. 541-43). However, it was Khomeini who for the first time not only selected a body of forty traditions, complete with chains of transmission, but also analyzed their implications in prolix and exhaustive detail in this, one of the most voluminous of all his works. Each hadith is followed by a number of segments (foṣul) detailing its implications, many of them involving the citation of other hadiths.

Only the very first of the forty hadith is an injunction by the Prophet; of the remaining thirty-nine, thirty are narrated from Imam Jaʿfar al-Ṣādeq, and nine from other Imams of the Ahl al-Bayt. In the opening hadith, the Prophet is reported to have congratulated a group of believers returning from battle on fulfilling their duty of “the lesser jihad” (al-jehād al-aṣḡar) while exhorting them now to engage in “the greater jihad” (al-jehād al-akbar). When asked about the meaning of the “greater jihad,” he responded: “it is the jihad against the appetitive soul” (jehād al-nafs) (pp. 3-27). This definition serves as prelude to the citation and examination of ten hadith identifying vices and errors that need to be combated: riyā (hypocrisy), ʿojb (arrogance), kebr (pride), ḥesādat (envy), ḥobb-e donyā (love of the world), ḡażab (anger), nefāq (duplicity), ʿaṣabiat (tribalism), hawā-ye nafs (capricious impulses of the lower self), and derāzi-ye ārzu (long-term or unrestrained desires) (pp. 35-178).

Of the remaining twenty-nine hadith interpreted by Khomeini, eleven relate to virtues and desirable practices, suggesting, perhaps, that once the vices and errors have been repelled, the way will be clear for moral and spiritual advancement. The eleven are: tafakkor, reflection (pp. 189-212); tawakkol, placing one’s trust in God (pp. 213-20); ḵawf wa rajāʾ, fear and hope (pp. 221-33); emteḥān, the endurance of divine testing (pp. 235-52); ṣabr, patience (pp. 253-70); tawba, repentance (pp. 221-86); ḏekr-e ḵodā, the remembrance of God (pp. 287-97); eḵlāṣ, sincerity (pp. 321-35); šokr, thankfulness (pp. 337-55); ʿebādat wa hożur-e qalb, worship with the presence of the heart (pp. 425-49); and yaqin wa reżā, certainty and contentment (pp. 557-65).

The others relate to a variety of moral and creedal concerns: karāhat az marg, abhorrence of death (pp. 357-65); aṣnāf-e juyandagān-e ʿelm, categories of those who seek knowledge (pp. 367-83); aqsām-e ʿelm, the divisions of knowledge (pp. 385-97); šakk wa waswās, doubt and uncertainty (pp. 399-410); fażilat-e ʿelm, the excellence of knowledge (pp. 411-23); leqāʾ Allāh, the meeting with God (pp. 451-66); waṣāyā-ye rasul be amir al-moʾmenin, the testamentary counsels of the Prophet to the Commander of the Believers, ʿAli b. Abi Ṭāleb (pp. 467-524); aqsām-e qolub, different types of hearts (pp. 525-37); ʿolum-e maʿrefat-e ḥaqiqi, the sciences of true cognition (pp. 539-56); welāyat wa aʿmāl, trustworthiness in one’s deeds (pp. 567-80); maqām-e moʾmen nazd-e Ḥaqq-e Taʿālā, the station of the believer in the view of God (pp. 581-96); maʿrefat-e asmāʾ-e Ḥaqq wa masʾala-ye jabr wa tafwiż, knowledge of the divine names and the question of predestination and free will (pp. 597-604); ṣefāt-e Ḥaqq, the attributes of God (pp. 605-20); maʿrefat-e Ḵodā wa rasul wa uli’l-amr, the knowledge of God, the Messenger, and the holders of authority (pp. 621-29); āfarineš-e Ādam bar ṣurat-e ḵodāvand, the creation of Adam in the form of God (pp. 631-37); ḵayr o šarr, good and evil (pp. 639-48); sura-ye tawḥid wa āḡāz-e sura-ye ḥadid a commentary on Sura 112 (al-Eḵlāṣ) and the opening verses of Sura 57 (al-Ḥadid) (pp. 649-61).

(5) Mobāraza bā nafs yā jehād-e akbar (in Persian). In October 1972, shortly before the beginning of Ramadan 1392, Khomeini gave a series of lectures to the religious students (ṭollāb) of Najaf on the same subject, the greater jihad, that he discussed first among the Forty Hadith. He exhorted his listeners to ponder on the hadith that the fasting believers are the guests of God during the month of Ramadan. Further, he reminded them of the enduring need to transcend the technical niceties of feqh in order to struggle against both the appetitive self and the plots of the imperialists. The transcript of the lectures was first published in Najaf soon after their delivery under the title Mobāraza bā nafs yā jehād-e akbar; numerous other editions also exist, the most recent published in Tehran in 1992 (71 pp.)

(6) Šarḥ-e ḥadiṯ-e jonud-e ʿaql wa jahl (“Commentary on the Hadith of the Battalions of Intelligence and Ignorance”; in Persian; Tehran, 1998, 503 pp.). Khomeini completed this work in 1944 in Maḥallāt, a cool and windy city where, according to his annotation at the very end of the book (p. 429), he had gone to escape the extreme heat prevailing in Qom.

In this lengthy hadith, Jaʿfar al-Ṣādeq depicts intelligence and ignorance as personified entities, deploying their forces against each other in unending combat; recognizing them is a source of guidance for the believers. Asked for an explanation, Imam Jaʿfar clarifies that intelligence is the first being created by God from His own light, to the right of His throne; when He told it to turn away, it did so; and when He told it to turn toward Him, it did so. He then informed intelligence that He had exalted it over all His creation. Next, He created ignorance from a salt-laden, dark sea, and addressed it with the same two commands He had given intelligence, but ignorance failed to obey, so God cursed it. Seventy-five battalions were accorded to intelligence, a favor that aroused envy in ignorance, who protested that, like intelligence, although its exact opposite, he too was part of God’s creation and therefore deserved his own seventy-five battalions. There then follows a complete enumeration of the seventy-five battalions deployed by each side, pairs of opposing attributes such as justice and injustice, and compassion and anger (pp. 17-19).

In a series of sections, subsections, and chapters, Khomeini’s somewhat diffuse and terminologically complex commentary covers a broad range of topics relating directly or indirectly to the hadith, most of them focusing on questions of spiritual or moral advancement. The work can be characterized as a complex manual of ethical self-improvement. Less tightly organized than his commentary on the forty hadith, but like it, this work often discusses opposing pairs of conduct and character. On the title page (p. 73), Khomeini disclaims any intention to be exhaustive, and on its last page (p. 429), he expresses the hope to return to the topic at some time in the future.

Among the topics he discusses at some length is the meaning of imān (faith); it is distinct from knowledge and perception, for they relate to intelligence while imān relates to the heart. The attainment of knowledge of God, the angels, the prophets, and resurrection does not suffice to qualify one as a believer, for Satan also had this knowledge and God calls him an unbeliever. Likewise, a philosopher may employ philosophical proofs for the oneness of God and its degrees, but this does not make of him a believer because those proofs have not established themselves in his heart. Intelligence, therefore, can serve only as a prelude to belief. The very word imān lexically implies “confidence” (eṭmeʾnān) and “humility” (ḵożuʿ), these being qualities of the heart (pp. 87-89).

None of this means, as Khomeini makes clear in a later section of this work, that knowledge is worthless. But its highest form is the knowledge of the divine names, for God taught them to Adam as a title of his superiority to the angels (cf. Qur’an, 2:31-33). It is not a form of knowledge obtained by deduction, by recourse to various abstract concepts, for such a process would not explain the exalting of Adam above the angels. It is rather a knowledge of the reality of the names, an awareness of the evanescence of the created in the Ultimate Reality (roʾyat-e fanāʾ-e ḵalq dar Ḥaqq). Khomeini then adduces a further series of Qur’anic verses in elucidation of the primordial knowledge bestowed on man (pp. 263-68).

The nafs is the battleground for the battalions of intelligence and ignorance, so tempering the instincts and impulses of the self (taʿdil-e qowā-ye nafsāniya) is extremely important; failure to do so will result in great and irreparable loss. It may take place at any time that man is in the natural realm (ʿālam-e ṭabiʿat), but it is best that it begin in childhood, for a child is like a blank sheet of paper that passively accepts whatever is inscribed on it. Primarily responsible are the father and mother, particularly the former, for he has to choose a pious and observant teacher for his offspring. Habits and characteristics acquired in childhood will for better or worse have their impact on society as a whole. If correction or reform is required, then it is best to undertake the task while still possessing the vigor of youth, but the possibility of redemption remains even in old age (pp. 155-57).

A particularly significant pair of opposites is light (nur) and darkness (ẓolumāt), the former being singular in a number of Qur’anic verses and the latter, plural. Thus Qurʾan, 2:257, “God is the Protector of those who believe; He brings them forth from darkness into light”—when taken in conjunction with Qurʾan, 39:69, “the earth will shine with the light of its Lord”—may be taken to mean the following: the various forms of darkness that beset man’s earthly existence will be dispelled by the absolute light of God’s absolute oneness (pp. 270-71). Other diametrically opposed pairs are understanding (fahm) and idiocy (ḥomq) (pp. 269-76); humility (tawāżoʿ) and arrogance (takabbor) (pp. 333-55); prudent reticence (ṣamt) and empty, meaningless talk (haḏayān) (pp. 385-96); patience (ṣabr) and disquiet or anxiety (jazaʿ) (pp. 409-23).

ON FEQH

(1) Resāla fi taʿyin al-fajr fi’l-layāli al-moqmera (“Determining the Onset of Dawn on Moonlit Nights”; in Arabic). This is a twenty-two-page essay, published in Qom in 1988. The date of its composition is uncertain.

(2) Manāhej al-woṣul elā ʿelm al-oṣul (in Arabic). Completed in 1941, this detailed work on the principles and methodology of feqh was published in two volumes in Tehran in 1994, with an introduction and notes by Ayatollah Fāżel Lankarāni (d. 2007), who had studied the subject with him in Qom and praises him for his innovative methods. Khomeini frequently cites the views of other scholars, both past and present, sometimes respectfully taking issue with them.

The first volume is devoted primarily to questions of language as they affect the discipline of ʿelm al-oṣul. After a definition of the discipline (I, pp. 45-50) come a whole series of clarifications, such as the need to take into account changes in the sense of words and expressions, and the lack of an essential connection between words and their meanings, for changes take place and complexities emerge as human life develops, and words may acquire a plurality of meanings (I, pp. 51, 55). The significance of particles, or the lack thereof, must also be taken into consideration (I, p. 57). The purpose is to establish rules whereby the divine ordinances and practical duties may be deduced from words and expressions. Topics that arise in this connection are the meanings of letters, and the problem of words that may be understood either as metaphorical (majāz) or taken in their literal sense (ḥaqiqa), a problem capable of solution by establishing the sense in which a word is commonly understood (I, pp. 102-5). Important, too, is distinguishing between the meanings of a word occurring both in the šariʿa and in common usage (ʿorf). Even apart from this distinction, words may be used in more than one sense (I, pp. 170-80). The derivation of words from the same root (ešteqāq) does not necessarily imply a uniformity of significance (I, p. 187). Next to be addressed is the question of whether an imperative is a simple command or implies an obligation (wājeb) (I, pp. 235-41). Connected to questions of language is the nature of reward and punishment in the hereafter (I, pp. 378-84).

The second volume opens with a consideration of whether the command to perform a certain act implies the prohibition of its opposite (II, pp. 7-58). Then, there is an examination of what in its own right constitutes a prohibition, one consideration being whether some form of corruption (fasād) is at issue (II, pp. 103-79). Also important is the distinction between the general (al-ʿā
mm) and the specific (al-ḵāṣṣ) in terms of applicability, and that between the absolute (al-moṭlaq) and the specific (al-moqayyad) (II, pp. 229-307, 313-39).

(3) Al-Rasāʾel (in Arabic). This is a collection of five treatises written by Khomeini between 1949 and 1954, each relating to one of the subjects he taught in his lectures on oṣul-e feqh. Edited and annotated by Mojtabā Tehrāni (d. 2013) with the approval of Khomeini, it was published in Qom in 1964 in two sections bound together in a single volume, with each section separately paginated.

The first treatise, completed in 1949, deals with the principle of lā żarar (more fully, lā żararwa lā żerār), neither inflicting harm on another nor retaliating for harm inflicted on one, a principle derived from a hadith of the Prophet (pp. 6-68). The same treatise was published separately in Qom in 1993 in 176 pages under the title Badāʿi al-dorar fi qāʿedat nafy al-żarar. The second treatise is devoted to esteṣḥāb—the presumption of continued validity for a ruling related to a pre-existing situation, unless it can be proven that a newly emerging situation negates or invalidates that ruling (pp. 70-358). The third treatise, coming first in the second section of al-Rasāʾel, concerns al-taʿādol wa’l-tarjiḥ, “balance and preference,” the course of action to be taken when confronted with two or more apparently contradictory or incompatible hadith (pp. 4-92). Next come al-ejtehād wa al-taqlid, the qualities required in a faqih for him to act as a marjaʿ al-taqlid, and the prerogatives (ḏekr šoʾun al-faqih) that may be exercised by a duly qualified faqih, including judgeship and governance, this essentially constituting an early adumbration of welāyat al-faqih, the doctrine central to the foundation of the Islamic Republic (pp. 94-172). This treatise, written in 1951, was also published separately in Qom in 1979. Finally, al-taqiya, “prudential dissimulation or concealment,” because of either fear or caution, is discussed, including the circumstances under which it is obligatory, permitted, or forbidden (pp. 174-210). Of particular interest is the consideration of the validity of prayer performed in a congregation of Sunnis (al-ʿāmma) p. 198-201, a topic that gained Khomeini’s attention anew after the revolution (see below, Esteftāʿāt).

(4) Taʿliqa ʿalā Kefāyat al-oṣul (in Arabic). These are glosses on Kefāyat al-oṣul by Āḵund Moḥammad-Kāẓem Ḵorasāni (q.v.; d. 1911), written in 1948.

(5) Taʿliqa ʿalā al-ʿOrwa al-woṯqā (in Arabic). This provides glosses on al-ʿOrwa al-woṯqā by Sayyed Moḥammad-Kāẓem Yazdi, a collection of legal rulings that he compiled in 1919, the year of his death. Khomeini completed this work in 1955, and it was published soon thereafter in Qom, in 345 pages. To avoid hostile scrutiny of the work by the shah’s regime, Khomeini was identified on the title page simply as “Ḵ”.

(6) Taʿliqa ʿalā Wasilat al-najāt (in Persian). Fatwās (q.v.) of Khomeini are arranged to form a commentary on Wasilat al-najāt by Sayyed Abu’l-Ḥasan Eṣfahāni (q.v.; d. 1946), an ʿālem politically active in both Iraq and Iran during World War I and its immediate aftermath. When Khomeini finished this work is unknown. It was first published separately in Qom (n.d., in 225 pp.) and then together with the Wasilat al-najāt itself.

(7) Ketāb al-ṭahāra (in Arabic). This four-volume work in Arabic on ritual purity originated in classes given by Khomeini in Qom between 1954 and 1957. The first volume deals with najāsāt (objects intrinsically unclean); volume two, with al-demāʾ al-ṯalāṯa (menstrual, extramenstrual, and postnatal bleeding); volume three, with tayammom (ritual purification with clean earth or soil); and volume four, with aḥkam al-najāsāt (rulings concerning unclean objects). The complete work was published in Najaf in 1969 in 1,202 pages. Ṣādeq Ḵalḵāli’s al-Demāʾ al-ṯalāṯa (Qom, n.d., 479 pp.), is based on the notes he took in Khomeini’s class on this subject; several years later, it was reviewed and approved for publication by Khomeini himself.

(8) Resāla-ye najāt al-ʿebād (in Persian). This consists of three volumes on the rulings of feqh. The second volume, on subjects ranging from makāseb-e moḥarrama (forbidden modes of earning) to divorce, was published in Qom in 1961, in 155 pages.

(9) Ḥāšiya bar Resāla-ye erṯ (in Persian). Khomeini’s fatwās on the topic of inheritance are arranged to form a commentary on a work dealing with the subject by Mollā Hāšem Ḵorāsāni. It was published in Qom (n.d., 120 pp.).

(10) Al-Makāseb al-moḥarrama (“Forbidden Modes of Earning /Lucrative Activities”; in Arabic). Completed in 1961, this two-volume work was first published in Qom the following year; the Tehran 1995 edition, copiously annotated with references to earlier authorities, runs to a total 1,023 pages in two volumes.

The first four sections prohibit trading in objects intrinsically impure (najes al-ʿayn, I, pp. 9-158); in things intended for illicit use (I, pp. 161-236); in things that serve no purpose (I, pp. 237-50); and in that which is intrinsically illicit (mā howa ḥarām
fi nafseh) or held to be so (I, pp. 251-70). This fourth segment is, perhaps, the most interesting, for some of the rulings Khomeini puts forth in it count as innovative. This applies, for example, to the topic of taṣwir, the making of images, either in the form of statues or by way of pictorial representation. Traditions prohibiting the making of idols cannot be taken as outlawing all forms of sculpture, Khomeini argues; if the Prophet forbade sculpture even after the destruction of the idols in the courtyard of the Kaʿba, it was because the Arabs had not yet been fully purged of their idolatrous tendencies. Statues produced in modern times form a completely different category (I, pp. 268-70). Busts and statues of cultural heroes such as Ferdowsi have indeed remained in place after the revolution, and they have been joined by others, such as Biruni (q.v.) and Sohrawardi. As for painting, its permissibility can be deduced from Khomeini’s declaration that “there is no proof for the prohibition (of taṣwir) of other than statues” (I, p. 267).

Next comes an extremely prolix discussion of ḡenāʾ, a term that, though commonly taken to mean “singing,” defies a one-word translation (I, pp. 299-356). It opens with an analysis of Rawżat al-ḡenāʾ, a treatise on the subject by Shaikh Moḥammad-Reżā Eṣfahāni (d. 1943), who had been one of Khomeini’s instructors in Qom (see translation by Reżā Ostādi, “Tarjoma-ye Resāla-ye rawżat al-ḡenāʾ,” Kayhān-e Andiša 18, Ḵordād-Tir 1367/May-June 1988, pp. 104-16). The primary meaning of ḡenāʾ is a pleasant or melodious voice, a manifestation of beauty that induces ṭarab in the hearer, a state of joy or excitement. Insofar as ṭarab may be frivolous or even immoral in nature, Qurʾan, 22:30, “shun the word that is false (qawl al-zur),” has been cited as proof for the prohibition of ḡenāʾ; this, however, is rejected by Khomeini (I, pp. 306-7). Similarly, Qurʾan 31:6, “There are those who buy frivolous talk (lahw al-ḥadiṯ) in order to lead people astray from the path of God, taking it as an object of ridicule; they shall suffer a humiliating torment,” cannot be taken as grounds for the impermissibility of all ḡenāʾ. Distinct from frivolous talk are homilies, elegies, ḏekr and Qurʾanic recitation, all of which count as ḡenāʾ if performed in a pleasing voice (I, p. 317). Similarly permissible is ḡenāʾ on ʿId al-Feṭr (see FASTING) and ʿId-al-Ażḥā; this may be extended to certain national holidays (baʿżal-aʿyād al-qawmiya) (I, p. 330). Beyond the devotional context, singing when accompanying a bride to the home of her groom (al-zefāf) is unobjectionable (I, p. 330). Unconditionally forbidden is the playing of wind instruments (mezmār), for they may induce a descent into merriment (tafriḥ) (I, p. 329). Likewise to be avoided, as a matter of caution, are “certain types of frivolous songs to which people in the bazaar (ahl al-suq) now listen, since they may form a forbidden category of ḡenāʾ” (I, p. 369).

In July 1979, the broadcasting on radio and television of music other than traditional religious chants and revolutionary anthems (sorudhā-ye enqelābi) was banned. Later, however, in a somewhat vague and perhaps deliberately ambiguous fatwā dated 19 March 1987, Khomeini decreed that most musical performances were not “reprehensible” (makruh), and instruments that could be used for either legitimate or illegitimate purposes (ālāt-e moštaraka) should not be banned (see Schirazi, p. 67). Persian classical music has enjoyed particular favor on state radio and television.

The first volume concludes with a minute and detailed examination of what constitutes slander or backbiting (ḡayba), an appropriate topic for inclusion among the forbidden modes of earning insofar as a desire for material gain may be the aim of the offender (I, pp. 381-480).

Intrinsically illicit and therefore prohibited are also all forms of gambling and games of chance. This extends to chess and backgammon, even when not accompanied by gambling, for the term maysar, interpreted to include these two, is coupled in Qurʾan, 2:219 and 5:90, 91, with wine drinking as a major sin. It is also forbidden for children to compete with each while playing with nutshells. On the other hand, pigeon racing, archery, and competitions to see who can throw camel shoes or arrowheads the farthest are licit, as long as no betting is involved (II, pp. 7-47). After the revolution, chess was banned for about a decade, but its popularity remained, and Khomeini was asked “if chess entirely discards its aspect of gambling and, as is the case today, serves the purpose of mental exercise, is playing it permitted?” He answered: “If there is no loss or gain involved, it is unobjectionable” (undated fatwā in Esteftāʾāt, II, p. 10). Iran now fields a national chess team that competes in international tournaments.

After a detailed examination of gains to be made by lying in a transaction (II, pp. 48-141) comes a list of prohibitions relating to the public and political sphere. It is impermissible to earn income or benefit from service to a “tyrant” (jāʾer), which may be taken to mean any illegitimate ruler (II, pp. 142-58), or from exercising authority on his behalf (al-welāya men qebal al-jāʾer). Exemptions may be permitted if under certain circumstances such conduct secures a benefit for the general public (II, pp. 159-254). Awards made by a tyrannical ruler or his agents may be permissible, again under certain circumstances (II, 235-414). Categorically impermissible is profiting from doing that which in its nature is obligatory (II, pp. 256-331).

(11) Tawżiḥ al-masāʾel (in Persian). This work began as a re-editing of Ayatollah Ḥosayn Borujerdi’s (q.v.; d. 1961) book with the same title. Even in Borujerdi’s lifetime, it was felt by a number of the ʿolamāʾ in Qom that Borujerdi’s text deserved to be refashioned in order to make it more accessible to the common believers, and two of them, Ḥājj Šayḵ ʿAli Karbāsči and ʿAli-Aṣḡar Faqihi, undertook the task. After Borujerdi’s death, Khomeini wrote a commentary (ḥāšiya) that was then merged with Borujerdi’s text and published as Tawżiḥ al-masāʾel-e Emām Ḵomeyni. This completed the process of declaring his availability as a marjʿa-e taqlid after the demise of Borujerdi. Some early editions omitted Khomeini’s name on the title page to avoid censorship by the shah’s regime. Since 1962, it has been re-published many times by different organizations, often with neither place nor date of publication; sometimes it bears the title Resāla-ye aḥkām (e.g., the edition published in Tehran in 1980).

Tawżiḥ al-masāʾel may be described as a handbook for the conscientious follower (moqalled); proofs from the Qurʾan and hadith are accordingly left unmentioned. In keeping with the tradition of the genre of this type of manual, detailed rules are supplied for all the situations the believer might ever encounter, however unlikely some of them may seem, the purpose being to demonstrate the comprehensive applicability and the practical utility of feqh. The number of topics (masʾala) varies slightly from one edition to another; thus, the Tehran edition of 1980 covers 2,785 topics; another, also entitled Resāla-ye aḥkām, but without place or date of publication, includes 2,887; and yet another, published in Tehran and undated, covers 2,890. Given the broad audience to which it was addressed, the attention it paid to their practical concerns, and the numerous editions in which it appeared, it is probable that it received more attention than any other of his works.

The first section deals with the incumbent nature of taqlid and the means whereby the common believer can determine the “most learned” (mojtahed-e aʿlam) to follow (1980 Tehran edition, pp. 1-3). Lengthy and extremely detailed is the section devoted to ṭahārat (ritual cleanliness or purity): objects and substances that count as unclean (najes) are enumerated, and instructions are provided for dealing with various anatomical conditions and bodily discharges (pp. 4-80). Then come regulations for namāz (pp. 80-168), complete with a Persian translation of the Qurʾanic suras and formulae recited during the prayer (pp. 123-24); for fasting (pp. 168-87); for the calculation and payment of ḵoms (pp. 188-98); the types of property on which zakāt is payable and the uses to which it should be put (pp. 199-217); and the performance of the hajj (pp. 218-19).

Next come a whole series of economic and financial situations: buying and selling (pp. 220-31); the formation and functioning of companies, even if they consist of only two people (pp. 232-34); ṣolḥ, in the sense of voluntarily assigning one’s property to another person (pp. 235-36); renting (pp. 237-41); joʿāla, the promise of recompense to someone for undertaking a given task (pp. 242-43); mozāraʿa, meaning that a landowner permits a farmer to cultivate his land for a share of the crop (pp. 244-45); mosāqāt, the undertaking by an owner of fruit trees to give someone a share of the fruit in exchange for keeping the trees watered (pp. 246-47); wek
āla, managing the property of children who have not attained puberty and that of the mentally disabled (pp. 248-50); loans (pp. 251-52); ḥawāla, the transfer by the creditor of a debt to someone other than the original borrower (pp. 253-54); rahn, the lien placed on a borrower’s property (pp. 255-56); żāmen, serving as guarantor for the repayment of a debt (pp. 257-58); kafālat, undertaking to pay someone’s debt on his behalf whenever the borrower demands that he do so (p. 259); wadiʿa, entrusting one’s property to someone else for safe keeping (pp. 260-62); and ʿāria, loaning one’s property to another free of charge (pp. 263-64). These rulings pertained to practices prevalent in Iranian society at the time.

Of more general relevance are the minute regulations on marriage and childbearing (pp. 265-78), including the provision of a suitable wetnurse for an infant when the mother is unable to lactate (p. 277); and on divorce (pp. 279-84).

Next come detailed regulations concerning the usurpation of property (ḡaṣb), a major sin (pp. 285-87); what to do with property the owner of which is unknown (pp. 288-90); slaughtering animals for consumption and hunting them, using either firearms or dogs, and fishing (pp. 291-97); the conditions under which locusts may permissibly be eaten (p. 297); which birds it is permissible to eat and which liquids it is permissible to drink (pp. 298-300); how to make a formal vow to undertake a good deed (naḏr; 301-3); the penalties incumbent on one who violates an oath (pp. 304-5); and conditions for establishing a charitable foundation (waqf, pp. 306-8).

Most editions of Tawżiḥ al-masāʾel include an appendix (molḥaqāt) consisting of rulings on modern topics of concern (masāʾel mostaḥdaṯa) as well as innovative solutions to other, longstanding problems (see, for example, the Tehran edition of 1980, pp. 321-36). The source is Taḥrir al-wasila, a work in Arabic completed by Khomeini in 1969 and intended for scholars of feqh; the rulings are expounded there in great detail, with the citation of proofs from the Qur’an and hadith (see below, Taḥrir al-wasila). The purpose for including them, in Persian and simplified form, in Tawżiḥ al-masāʾel was plainly to make them available to the moqalledin. The molḥaqāt are also said to have been published separately.

First comes a re-examination of “enjoining the good and forbidding the evil” (amr be maʿruf wa nahy az monkar; see AMR BE MAʿRUF). It is a duty that must be fulfilled, either individually or collectively; if a verbal reminder to the offender does not suffice, it is permissible to beat him, but not too harshly (p. 321-25). At issue, however, is far more than sins committed by the common man, such as the consumption of alcohol. The forms of evil to be forbidden include the receipt of monies by the ʿolamāʾ or their students in the madrasas from awqāf administered by the state; such interference by the state is the prelude to the destruction of the foundations of Islam in accordance with the desires of the imperialists, as has already happened or is about to happen in all Muslim countries (p. 322).

Comparable in tone and purport to the preceding is the section relating to defense (defāʿ), broadly defined to extend beyond repelling military aggression. For Khomeini, it is certainly the duty of all Muslims, whether individually or collectively, to defend any Muslim land that comes under attack, but beyond that they should resist all plans by foreigners leading to their dominance in any Muslim land; prevent any expansion of foreign political, economic or commercial influence liable to result in the domination of a Muslim land; oppose political relations between a Muslim government and a foreign power leading to domination by the latter; and combat all forms of commercial relations with a foreign power liable to damage the national economy. If a Muslim country establishes commercial or political relations detrimental to the interest of Islam and the Muslims, all Muslim states must force the government in question to sever those ties. Finally, commercial and political dealings with “certain countries” that are pawns in the hands of Israel must be opposed by whatever means necessary as they are traitors to Islam; the same applies to merchants that deal with Israel (pp. 326-27). This set of injunctions may be regarded as a blueprint for Iranian foreign policy after the revolution.

In another significant ruling, Khomeini condemns as a violation of Islam dictated by foreign powers the Family Protection Law of 1967, revised in 1975, that deprived husbands of the unilateral right to divorce their wives and assigned to civil courts the right to dissolve a marriage at the request of either a husband or a wife. The aim, he declared, was to destroy the Muslim family; if a woman, after obtaining a court-ordered divorce, remarried, she would count as an adulteress (p. 328). The regulations that came into effect after the revolution in September 1979 were not, however, totally dissimilar from the earlier law: they provided for the appearance before a special civil court of a couple seeking divorce from each other; if the court was unable to reconcile them with each other, the divorce was granted (see, DIVORCE iv. DIVORCE IN MODERN PERSIA).

Not all the rulings contained in the Molḥaqāt have political implications. Several relate to financial dealings, such as softa, a promissory note; sarqofli, the unrefundable payment made by the renter of a property to its owner to secure the lease; banking transactions; and insurance (pp. 329-33). Lotteries (baḵtāzmāʾi) are categorically forbidden as a form of gambling, even if disguised by the state as a form of charitable expenditure (eʿāna-ye melli “national assistance”; pp. 333-34). Of greater practical importance, perhaps, are Khomeini’s rulings on artificial insemination (talqiḥ), permissible on condition that it is the husband’s semen that is injected into the womb (p. 334); and the dissection of corpses—those of non-Muslims may legitimately be dissected, but those of Muslims only if non-Muslim corpses are unavailable, and then only to save the life of a Muslim, not for purposes of anatomical instruction (pp. 335-36; also discussed at greater length in Taḥrir al-wasila, below).

Ḵātema, the concluding section of the molḥaqāt, includes a prohibition of eating the meat of animals mechanically slaughtered or imported from non-Muslim countries (p. 336). Strongly discouraged or even forbidden in the circumstances prevailing at the time is the possession of radio and television sets, for that which is broadcast consists largely of music, the propagation of laws contrary to Islam, and the praise of “traitors and tyrants” (p. 336).

A Clarification of Questions (Boulder, Colo., 1984), J. Borujerdi’s translation of Tawżiḥ al-masāʾel, with an introduction by Michael Fischer and Mehdi Abedi, suffers from misspellings, a clumsiness of diction, and an insistence on the misleadingly literal rendering of Persian idioms; thus, namāz gozārdan (performing prayer) is repeatedly translated as “laying a prayer” (pp. 175-89).

(12) Zobdat al-aḥkām (in Arabic; Tehran, 1983, 273 pp.). This is composed of selected rulings from the Taḥrir al-wasila and other works; no editor or compiler is mentioned.

(13) Taḥrir al-wasila (in Arabic). Having already written a commentary on the Wasilat al-najāt of Sayyed Abu’l-Ḥasan Eṣfahāni while in Qom, Khomeini decided during his period of exile in Turkey to merge his commentary with the text itself and to add to it several chapters lacking in the original. It was first published in Najaf in 1969, in two volumes with a total of 1,309 pages. It has subsequently been reprinted many times (e.g., in Beirut, 1982) and translated into Persian by Moḥammad-Bāqer Musavi Hamadāni. After the revolution, it became a textbook regularly taught in the ḥawza, and, for the benefit of a less specialized readership, a selection of the rulings it contained was published, in Arabic, under the title Zobdat al-aḥkām (mentioned above).

The first volume details the standard prescriptions of feqh: the taqlid incumbent on the common believer (al-ʿāmmi) and his obligation to choose the “most learned” (al-aʿlam; I, pp. 5-11); ritual purity (ṭahāra; I, pp. 12-134); prayer (I, pp. 135-274); fasting (I, pp. 278-310); zakāt (I, pp. 311-50); ḵoms (I, pp. 352-69); and hajj (I, pp. 370-461).

Next, the duty of “enjoining the good and forbidding the evil” (al-amr be’l-maʿruf wa’l-nahy ʿan al-monkar), as expounded in Qurʾan, 3:104 and 9:71, is discussed in some detail as “the most exalted and honorable of duties” (I, pp. 462-84). There are varying degrees of evil, and the danger that may be incurred by those combating them needs to be weighed against the expected benefit. The oppressiveness of rulers, counting as a major form of evil, must always be opposed, especially by the religious scholars, even if their opposition does not yield an immediate result; failure to do so would be a disgrace (I, pp. 473-75). In society at large, “forbidding the evil” is to be undertaken by expressing disapproval, or in some cases coercive intervention; the implementation of šarʿi penalties is, however, reserved for duly qualified scholars of the law (I, pp. 476-84).

Such is the importance of “enjoining the good and forbidding the evil” that after the revolution it was incorporated in the Constitution of the Islamic Republic. Article Eight reads in part: “Summoning men to good by enjoining good and forbidding evil is a universal and mutual duty that must be fulfilled by the people with respect to each other, by the government with respect to the people, and by the people with respect to the government. The conditions, limits, and nature of this duty will be specified by law.” In order to implement the principle, very soon after the revolution, patrols known as Gašt-e Ṯaʾr-Allāh (“God’s Vengeance Patrols”) began policing the streets of Tehran; their primary concern was monitoring women’s observance of ḥejāb. Less fearsome in name but identical in function is the Gašt-e Eršād (“Guidance Patrol”), active since the early 2000s.

Distinctive is Khomeini’s discussion of “defense” (defāʿ) in this context of basic religious duties, for it goes beyond and precedes the right to defend one’s person and property. Incumbent on the believers as a collective duty is the defense of Muslim lands, even during the occultation of the Imam and without seeking the permission of his deputy. This duty extends to combating the entrenchment of all foreign political or economic influence detrimental to the interests of the Muslims, in whatever Muslim state it may be (I, pp. 485-87). It is only after the expounding of this collective duty that Khomeini turns his attention to the defense of one’s person and property (I, pp. 487-92)

The final topic of volume one is “modes of earning and trading” (al-makāseb wa al-matājer) (I, pp. 493-656). First comes a section on forbidden modes of earning (al-makāseb al-moḥarrama), a subject Khomeini had expansively addressed seven years earlier in his book with that title (I, pp. 493-503). The discussion of taṣwir and ḡenāʾ (I, pp. 496-97) reflect in concise form the relatively lenient views expressed earlier in al-Makā
seb al-moḥarrama (I, pp. 496-97). Categorically forbidden is magic in all its forms, such as summoning the jinn and the angels, fortune telling, predicting rainfall or draught, and recourse to astrology (I, pp. 498-99). Then follow regulations for thirty-seven types of financial and commercial transactions, organized under twelve headings (I, pp. 504-656).

The exhaustive discussion of the traditional topics of feqh continues in the second volume. Included are, for example, regulations concerning ṣadaqa (charitable donations) (II, pp. 90-93); questions relating to marriage, such as the permissibility of anal intercourse, reprehensible though it may be (II, p. 241); the impermissibility of marriage to non-Muslims (II, pp. 285-87); the upkeep (nafaqa) owed by a husband to his wife, offspring, and other relatives (II, pp. 313-24); the modalities of divorce (II, pp. 325-47); inheritance (II, pp. 363-402); the qualities that must define a judge (II, pp. 404-10); and the compensation (dia, q.v.) to be paid for various types of bodily injury (II, 570-86).

Of greater interest and originality than the foregoing is the section on al-masāʾel al-mostaḥdaṯa (“questions relating to modern concerns”) (II, pp. 608-39). Here, Khomeini discusses in detail, with supporting evidence, some of the questions relating to financial dealings later included in the Molḥaqāt in summary form. In addition, he rules on insurance (permitted; II, p. 608) and a variety of banking transactions (II, pp. 616-19)

Entirely innovative are his rulings concerning medical procedures such as artificial insemination, permitted on condition it is the husband’s sperm that is inserted into the womb of the wife (II, 621). The dissection of a dead Muslim is forbidden, but that of a non-Muslim, ḏemmi or other, is permissible; if a non-Muslim corpse is unavailable, then that of a Muslim may be dissected, but only to save the life of a Muslim, not for purposes of medical instruction or research. The topic acquired a certain urgency in the course of the revolution when the supply of corpses from India used for instruction in medical schools dried up. Grafts and organ transplantation are, however, permitted under certain conditions (II, p. 624).

Sex change is permitted, if a person has inclinations contrary to his or her biological gender. If both a husband and wife undergo the relevant procedure and reverse roles, it is advisable that they remarry each other. The guardianship of a minor child born of the first marriage should be assigned to the paternal grandfather (II, pp. 626-28). It may be noted in this connection that, after the revolution, Khomeini was visited by a male who sought transformation into a female; he is said to have given him/her a letter authorizing the procedure, which ultimately took place in 1997 (see “The Ayatollah and the Transsexual,” The Independent, 25 November 2004). Sex-reassignment surgery is now even subsidized by the state.

Radio, television and tape recorders have both legitimate and illegitimate uses. It is permissible to listen to the news and to sermons and to view images of permitted objects such as “the wonders of creation, at sea and on dry land,” and impermissible to listen to music and other matters forbidden by the šariʿa and harmful to public morality (II, pp. 629-31).

Then come complex questions relating to the duties of prayer and fasting as affected by long-distance travel by jet plane (II, pp. 631-39). Prayer is permitted while flying, on condition that the plane is oriented to the qebla; if it deviates therefrom after the worshipper has completed all verbal recitation, his prayer is valid (II, p. 631). Then there is the case of a traveler who, missing the dawn prayer before taking off from Tehran, arrives in Istanbul an hour later, half an hour before sunrise. If he immediately performs the dawn prayer, will he count as having done so at the prescribed time, or as having made up for missing it in Tehran (II, p. 632)?

In the concluding section, a transition is accomplished from the actual to the hypothetical, from earth to outer space. Among the questions that may arise in the future are differences in gravity affecting weight, and the nature of plants and animals existing on other planets. If human beings are found there, they are to be treated like their terrestrial counterparts, and if there are creatures having a different form from humans but like them are endowed with perception and intelligence, they are to be treated as human, to the extent that marriage with them will be permissible, and they will be subject to all divine prescriptions. The way in which they fulfil those prescriptions, such as ablution, may however be determined by the number of arms they have (II, pp. 639-40). Khomeini’s purpose here is no doubt to emphasize the enduring relevance of the feqh-e sonnati he espoused and to refute the claims of those who regard the whole discipline as a historical artefact.

(14) Ketāb al-bayʿ (in Arabic; five volumes, written between 1961 and 1976). This work represents the contents of the courses Khomeini taught on the subject, first in Qom and then in Najaf. Regulations for the buying and selling of property are the theme of all five volumes. Volume one was published in Najaf in 1961 in 450 pages, and volume two, which includes a discussion of welāyat-e faqih, was written in Najaf in 1962 and published there the same year in 575 pages. Volume three, in 485 pages, was completed in 1972, also in Najaf. The topic of volume four, published in Najaf in 1974 in 452 pages, is ḵeyārāt, (the legal ability of either party to a contract to annul its provisions); and volume five, published in Najaf in 1977 in 402 pages, completes the discussion of keyārāt and then deals with transactions in cash, credit, and the seizure of property. This final volume is the last work to be written or completed by Khomeini during his years in Najaf.

(15) Esteftāʾāt (10 vols., Tehran, 1996-2019). This compiles a total of 12,387 fatwās, Khomeini’s answers to requests for a binding judgement on matters of law, most of them relating to the period after the revolution. The names of the questioners, if private citizens, are omitted; the text of their queries is followed by brief responses, in keeping with the nature of the genre. Other requests for fatwās were made by duly-named government officials, and the answers they received were more detailed. Before being incorporated in this collection, most of these had already appeared in Ṣaḥifa-ye Emām, the twenty-two-volume assemblage of Khomeini’s public declarations.

One fatwā clearly relating to the immediate post-revolutionary situation is the following: Question: “If a duly qualified mojtahed issues a binding command for jihad or some other matter, is obedience to his command incumbent on those who are not his moqalleds?” Answer: “The command of the wali al-amr is binding on everyone, including other mojtaheds” (I, p. 19). At issue here is the opposition of certain mojtaheds, primarily Moḥammad-Kāẓem Šariʿatmadāri, although his name is not mentioned, to a number of government policies. Of more general and lasting importance are the fatwās declaring the permissibility of praying behind a Sunni imam. In a locality left unnamed by the questioner, Sunnis and Shi’is had come together to build a mosque, but it was a Sunni who customarily led the prayer; it was permissible, Khomeini proclaimed, for the Shiʿis to pray behind him, on condition that in prostration they place their foreheads on the clay tablet known as torba or mohr (I, p. 279). Another questioner inquired whether Shiʿis can pray behind a Sunni imam on occasions other than the Hajj; Khomeini replied, “they can” (I, p. 279). Other fatwās addressed concerns of a more personal nature, such as those of a religiously observant wife unable to persuade her husband to pray regularly (I, pp. 486-87).

KALĀM

Ṭalab wa erāda (“Demand and Will”; in Arabic). The subject of this work, freewill vs. predetermination, while belonging to kalām, relates also to oṣul-e feqh, for amr, the divine command, is a foundational concept of that discipline. Khomeini therefore touched upon it in his classes on oṣul, but recognized it as a subject calling for detailed treatment in its own right (p. 5). Khomeini completed this work on 25 Ramadan 1371/20 June 1952 while in Hamadan, having gone there presumably to escape the extreme heat prevailing in Qom.

The Arabic text was published in Tehran in 1983 together with a Persian translation by Sayyed Aḥmad Fehri. As if the terminological density of the work were not enough of a challenge for the reader, Fehri’s version frequently expands on the Arabic original without acknowledgement, and confusingly intermingles it with a detailed commentary and footnotes. The structure of the original text is also unclear. After a preface and introduction (pp. 10-37) comes the first maṭlab (topic), an examination and refutation of the theological arguments advanced by Abu’l-Ḥasan Ašʿari (q.v.; pp. 37-53), leading the reader to expect a series of other maṭlabs. Instead, what follows are several unnumbered foṣul (chapters) (pp. 53-129). In the most significant of these foṣul, the arguments of both the Ašʿariya (q.v.) and Moʿtazeli schools of thought are refuted, and the cryptic formula, “something in between” (amron bayn al-amrayn), i.e., between free will and predetermination, is explained and put forward as the truth of the matter (pp. 62-77). After the foṣul comes a succession of five separately numbered maṭlabs (pp. 129-58). The topic of the first is the true nature of felicity and wretchedness (pp. 129-32). The second establishes that the contingent attributes of existence do not pertain to its essence (pp. 133-35). The third demonstrates that since all contingent quiddities lack reality in their essence, they are incapable of independent causation (pp. 135-36). The fourth provides a definition of what is commonly regarded as felicity, the permanent availability of all the pleasures desired by the appetitive soul, and what truly constitutes it (pp. 136-40). The fifth refutes the idea that the inclination of an individual soul to either good or evil is determined by its innate disposition (ṭina) (pp. 141-58).

POLEMICS AND POLITICAL WORKS

Many of the works surveyed in other categories contain elements that are either polemical or political or both, but it seems appropriate to single out two works for separate treatment under this heading.

(1) Kašf al-asrār (in Persian; Qom, 1945, 334 pp.). It does not appear to have been republished after the revolution, perhaps because most of the concerns it addresses had been superseded by others. The work is nonetheless of historical value, for it demonstrates Khomeini’s view of the dire situation in which Iran, and the religious institution in particular, found themselves after twenty years of Pahlavi rule. The title, Kašf al-asrār (“The Uncovering of Secrets”), refers in the first place to the objectionable book, Asrār-e hazārsāla, he sought to refute (see KHOMEINI i. LIFE, p. 548), but it also alludes to a coalition of forces plotting against Iran and Islam.

Early in the book, he addresses an unnamed individual, saying, “we know you better than anyone … you have not read the Qurʾan even once” (p. 8). But nowhere does he dignify with explicit mention by name either the Asrār-e hazārsāla or its author, ʿAli-Akbar Ḥakamizāda. (By contrast, he does mention by name a writer expressing views similar to those of Ḥakamizāda, Aḥmad Kasravi [q.v.], twice denouncing him as an opium addict [pp. 133, 302], and he also condemns Reżāqoli Šariʿat-Sanglaji, a clerical deviant like Ḥakamizāda [p. 333]).

Instead, Khomeini launches his book with the warning that “certain idiots are striving with all their might to sow corruption, chaos, and disunity, and to destroy the foundations of society; at a time when the whole world is aflame, they aim their blows at religion and the religious scholars” (p. 2). Whatever they have to say derives from the Wahhabis, “the ghouls of the desert of Najd … a band of camel-herders…one of the most abominable peoples in the world” (p. 4). Similar execrations of the Wahhabis recur later in the book (e.g., pp. 10, 27, 39). That Wahhabi teachings should be propagated in Iran during the rule of Reżā Khan is no surprise, for he wished to silence the ʿolamāʾ as he set about destroying the country (p. 9). Even after his dethronement, matters have not substantially improved.

Khomeini addresses serially the Wahhabi-inspired accusations circulating at the time. First comes the charge that a whole series of distinctively Shiʿite practices constitute šerk and an infraction of tawḥid: seeking favors from the Prophet and the Imams; the attribution of miracles to them and seeking their intercession; prostrating on clay tablets from Karbala; and the construction of domes. His answer is extremely lengthy, touches on a number of additional topics, and cites philosophers as well as Islamic scholars (pp. 11-105). He accuses his adversaries, among other things, of wishing clandestinely to promote a return to Zoroastrianism (p. 74).

Second comes the question of the Imamate, and the claim that it is not explicitly mentioned in the Qurʾan. After adducing rational proofs for the innate necessity of government as such, Khomeini affirms that for twenty-five years the Prophet strove to establish a just government for enforcing divine law. As for scriptural proofs, Qurʾan 4:59 makes of obedience to “the possessors of authority” (ulu’l-amr) a corollary of obedience to God and His Messenger (pp. 107-11). Reżā Khan and Atatürk do not qualify for this title, nor do the sultans and caliphs of the past. In fact the usurpation of authority can be traced back to the rule of the first two caliphs, Abu Bakr and ʿOmar; not yet inclined to ecumenical relations with Sunnis, Khomeini enumerates the deviations of which they were allegedly guilty, such as the prohibition of motʿa (temporary marriage) by ʿOmar (pp. 112-17). This, in turn, leads to the discussion of numerous hadith concerning the Imamate; the reasons for commemorating the martyrdom of Imam Ḥosayn (q.v.); the nature of the Imamate having been governmental as well as spiritual from the outset; the meaning of Qurʾan, 5:3 “this day I have perfected for you your religion” (p. 135), which he takes as referring to the Prophet’s nomination of ʿAli as his successor at the Pool of Ḵomm (see ḠADIR ḴOMM). After adducing other Qurʾanic verses alluding to the Imamate, Khomeini counters the arguments made against Shiʿism in Toḥfa-ye Eṯnā-ʿašariya, a lengthy, well-known polemical work by Shah ʿAbd-al-ʿAziz Moḥaddeṯ Dehlavi (q.v.; d. 1824), citing approvingly its refutation by Ḥāmed Ḥosayn Musawi (d. 1888) in his ʿAbaqāt al-anwār fi emāmat al-aʾimmat al-aṭhār.

Especially pertinent to the future of Iran was Khomeini’s tentative exposition of what he calls welāyat-e faqih or welāyat-e mojtahed, “the viceregency of the mojtahed” (pp. 185-90), in support of which he cites four hadith (pp. 187-88). He takes care to stress that the doctrine does not mean the religious scholars should assume ministerial or administrative positions, but rather form or oversee an assembly to select a “just ruler” observant of divine law; such an assembly would be totally at variance with the Constituent Assembly (Majles-e moʾassesān) that, “formed at bayonet point,” had substituted the Pahlavi for the Qajar dynasty. Many great scholars of the past, such as Naṣir-al-Din Ṭusi (q.v.; d. 1274) and Moḥammad-Bāqer Majlesi (q.v.; d. 1699), while preserving their independence, had even collaborated with kings in order to promote the welfare of the people. “Even though all sovereignties other than the sovereignty of God (jozʾ salṭanat-e Ḵodāʾi hama-ye salṭanathā) are oppressive and contrary to the public welfare, and all laws other than divine law are invalid and useless (bi-huda), they (the religious scholars) observe these laws and do not seek to abolish them until a better political system can be established” (p. 186). This may be read both as a warning and as a statement of intention. Indeed, part of what follows somewhat later is a clarification of how an Islamic state would draw up a budget; what taxes it would impose; how endowments (awqāf) would be administered; and the functions that would be undertaken by its “office of propagation” (edāra-ye tabliḡāt) (pp. 255-58, 279).

Compulsory military service as instituted by Reżā Khan is harmful to the people, paralyzing the industrial and agricultural sectors. Unless their impoverished families can afford to pay a bribe, young men are taken away from them for two years to be spent in “centers of vice and depravity,” where they are liable to be infected by venereal diseases while sauntering on the boulevards of Tehran (p. 244). “If fornicating men and women were to receive a hundred lashes, these devastating diseases would not occur” (pp. 274-75). The prohibition of ḥejāb (kašf-e ḥejāb) is likewise an assault on public morality (pp. 223, 283). Likewise reprehensible is the peaked hat known as “the Pahlavi hat” (kolāh-e pahlavi), closely resembling the French kepi, that was imposed on men in 1927 in order to give them a European appearance (p. 224).

Much of what is advocated by the so-called reformists as conducive to “a true Islam” and is being enforced by the Pahlavi state derives from a misplaced admiration of Europe, “a Europe which has no purpose other than bloodshed, slaughter, and devastation … that has annihilated millions of its own people, crushing them with tanks and artillery” (p. 272). By contrast, Muslim countries that were at least partly implementing Islamic laws displayed the highest level of civilization for several centuries, as acknowledged by Gustave Le Bon in his book, La civilisation des arabes (p. 273). The universities established by the state in Iran are one example of the blind imitation of Europe (what would later be derided, by Khomeini and others, as ḡarbzadagi, “Westoxication”); they had failed to produce competent physicians, while at the same time ignoring traditional medicine (ṭebb-e qadim; pp. 281-82). Another reprehensible innovation is the state-controlled press: scarcely a household could be found in which newspapers were not kept; they ought to be stacked up and burnt in town squares (pp. 283-84).

The rest of Kašf al-asrār consists of a repetition of points made earlier in the book and later elaborated in the Najaf lectures on welāyat-e faqih. Thus, legislation is the prerogative of God alone, so that all existing governments are inherently illegitimate (p. 288); the law of Islam has perennial validity (p. 291); and the distortion of Islam is the work of the Europeans, who have recruited to this end “the idiot Reżā Khan and the moron Atatürk” (pp. 330-31).

(2) Welāyat-e faqih, Ḥokumat-e eslāmi. This began with the transcript of four lectures delivered in Najaf to an audience of mostly young students in late January and early February 1970; the text was published there the following year. Numerous other editions exist, the most recent appeared in Tehran in 1996. The citations given here are from an undated reprint of the Najaf edition; the material has been slightly rearranged, however, for the sake of greater coherence and to avoid repetition—hence the lack of serial order to the page references. When Khomeini gave these lectures, twenty-five years had elapsed since the publication of Kašf al-asrār. He now had a more specialized audience than the intended readership of that book and accordingly supplied detailed proofs from the Qurʾan and hadith for the vicegerency of the faqih. In order to forestall any misinterpretation, he carefully examines the precise wording of each hadith that he cites. Moreover, much in the political situation had changed: America had replaced Britain as the principal enabler of the Pahlavi regime, and the state of Israel had come into existence, with consequences for Iran. The establishment of Islamic government was no longer a hypothetical possibility, but an urgent necessity.

At the very outset, Khomeini affirms the indisputable validity of the principle of welāyat-e faqih; the lack of attention paid to it derives from the circumstances prevailing in society at large and the teaching institutions in particular. These are, in turn, due to the hostility with which Islam has been confronted from the outset, beginning with the Jews (by whom he presumably means the Jewish tribes in Medina at the time of the Prophet, primarily the Bani Qorayẓa, mentioned by name on p. 111), and continuing with the Crusaders and the European imperialists (pp. 6-7). Their influence has penetrated educational institutions, including even those devoted to religious scholarship, with the result that Islam is thought to be nothing but a series of regulations concerning ritual purity and is deprived of its revolutionary aspect. The great majority of Qurʾanic verses and hadith pertain, however, to the gestation of society; it is therefore incumbent on the younger generation of religious students to pursue the revival of Islamic governance, in whatever way they find most beneficial. The legal system practiced in Iran is of foreign origin and corrupt in its application, and in no way does it serve to check vices such as the consumption of alcohol and promiscuity. The laws of Islam are comprehensive and of lasting validity; what is required is their implementation, a duty first performed by the Prophet and then passed on to his successors. Through writing and preaching, people need to be made aware of the beneficial effects of Islamic law on society; “know that it is your duty to establish an Islamic government,” Khomeini commands his young audience (pp. 7-23).

The Prophet exercised all the functions of government, and his appointment of a successor indicates that they were to continue after his passing. After his death, no one disputed the need for government; they disagreed only on who should head it. Even after the beginning of the Greater Occultation (see ḠAYBA), all the laws of Islam remain valid. Islam provides a complete social system and has regulations for family life, trade, and agriculture (pp. 26-29). Similarly, it has its own distinct taxation system consisting of ḵoms, jezya, ḵarāj, and zakāt, each intended for specific forms of expenditure. Incumbent on the state is the provision of health care, education, and economic development (pp. 34-37). Equally important is the maintenance of forces to defend the lands of Islam, in accordance with Qurʾan 8:60: “Prepare against them whatever force you can muster.” It is the neglect of this injunction as well as pure incompetence that has led to the loss of Palestine (pp. 37-38).

The corruption of government began with the Omayyads and continued with the ʿAbbasids and all the monarchical governments succeeding them, the result being “the proliferation of corruption on earth” (Qurʾan, 5:33, on p. 39). A further consequence has been the splintering of the Islamic homeland by the imperialists and their agents, a prime example being the dismembering of the Ottoman state, which despite its defects represented a form of unity (pp. 41-42).

Thanks to the imperialists and their puppet governments, corruption and oppression prevail everywhere (pp. 43-50). The corruption is at one and the same time moral, financial, and political. The imperial regime is responsible for the proliferation of prostitution and alcoholism, and spends money from the religious endowments (awqāf) on building cinemas (p. 57). Public funds are embezzled; money is wasted on royal ceremonies; expensive armaments are imported; oil and other natural resources are exploited by foreigners; and Phantom jets are bought from Israel, making Iran a base for the Zionists (pp. 59-60, 160, 167-68, 194). It is to prevent these forms of corruption, as well as the diffusion of heretical concepts, that an Islamic government is needed; this is the conclusion to be drawn from a lengthy hadith of Imam Reżā, the essence of which is the lasting necessity of a divinely appointed trustee (p. 45; text in Shaikh Ṣadduq Ebn Bābawayh, ʿElal al-šarāʾeʿ, Qom 1958, I, 183).

This is but one of the many hadiths Khomeini cites, with the intention both of clarifying the nature of Islamic government and of identifying the class of scholars, namely the foqahāʾ, whose duty it is to establish one. The wording on each occasion is meticulously analyzed in order to refute possible misinterpretations or objections. For example, Imam ʿAli is reported to have asked the Prophet: “Who are those that succeed you?” to which he replied, “Those who come after me, transmit my traditions and practice, and teach them to the people after me.” Khomeini argues that “teaching,” even if narrowly interpreted, implies training those who are taught to implement what they learn (pp. 80-81). Closer to being explicit is a tradition from Imam Musā al-Kāẓem that describes the foqahāʾ as “the fortress of Islam,” which implies active engagement against the enemy. If a faqih sits passively in some nook, not enforcing the penal code or guarding the frontiers of Islam, a crack will have appeared in the wall of the fortress (pp. 82-84). Somewhat similarly, the Twelfth Imam advised the believers to consult the foqahāʾ concerning situations newly arising (ḥawādeṯ-e wāqeʿa) during his occultation; each of them will count as “a proof of Islam” (ḥojjat al-Eslām). From this hadith, Khomeini concludes that “just as the Most Noble Messenger was the proof of God—the conduct of all affairs being entrusted to him so that whoever disobeyed him had a proof advanced against him—so, too, are the foqahāʾ the proof of the Imam … to the people.” The conclusion to be drawn from these and other hadiths serves to clarify the meaning of Qurʾan, 4:59: “O you who believe, obey God and obey the Messenger and the holders of authority among you (uli’l-amre menkom)” (pp. 104-6).

The duty or right of a faqih to exercise governmental power is not a matter of spiritual status, but of knowledge and justice: “If a worthy individual possessing these two qualities arises and establishes a government, he will possess the same authority as the Most Noble Messenger in the administration of society, and it will be the duty of all people to obey him” (p. 66). He will implement the same penalties as did the Prophet and Imam ʿAli, including one hundred lashes for the fornicator—a provision Khomeini singles out for mention several times because of its perceived urgency, for example on p. 93—and stoning for the adulterer; their implementation cannot be postponed until the return of the Twelfth Imam. (These penalties have, in fact, been frequently imposed after the foundation of the Islamic Republic). The faqih will also collect religiously mandated taxes as did the Prophet and Imam ʿAli (pp. 64-65).

An Islamic government, by contrast with all other forms of rule, will be constitutional only in the sense that those presiding over it are bound by the conditions set out in the Qurʾan and Sunnah; legislation belongs to God alone, so that “a simple planning body will take the place of a legislative assembly” (pp. 52-53). Similarly, in his final lecture, Khomeini asserts that “the entire system of government and administration, together with the necessary laws, lies ready for you… . There is no need for you, after establishing a government, to sit down and draw up laws… . All that remains is to draw up ministerial programs, and that can be accomplished with the help and cooperation of consultants and advisers who are experts in different fields, gathered together in a consultative assembly” (pp. 190-91).

In the meantime, it is incumbent on duly qualified foqahāʾ to exercise the function of judges. Imam Jaʾfar al-Ṣādeq was once asked how two Shiʿis should resolve a disagreement between them, and he instructed them to seek out one learned in the traditions and accept him as judge (pp. 117-19). This assignation of judgeship to the scholars, together with all the extrinsic functions of the Imam, is permanent, a view already expressed by Mollā Aḥmad Narāqi (d. 1829) and, more recently, Mirzā Moḥammad-Ḥosayn Nāʾini (d. 1936) (p. 98).

A number of other hadiths are then reviewed, culminating in a lengthy sermon addressed to the scholars of his time by Imam Ḥosayn not long before his martyrdom, in which he reproaches them for their failure to “enjoin the good and forbid the evil,” as demanded by Qurʾan, 9:71 (pp. 144-68). The least they could have done was to speak out; Khomeini accordingly instructs his listeners not to remain silent: “If they strike you on the head, cry out in protest. Do not submit to oppression; such submission is worse than oppression itself” (pp. 156-69).

At the conclusion of this, the penultimate lecture, Khomeini cites as scholars who issued rulings based in effect on welāyat-e faqih Mirzā Ḥasan Širāzi (q.v.; d. 1895), who in December 1891 decreed a boycott of tobacco as long as its production and marketing in Iran remained the monopoly of a British company; Mirzā Moḥammad-Taqi Širāzi (d. 1921), who proclaimed jihad against the British occupiers of Iraq at the end of World War I; and Moḥammad Ḥosayn Kāšef-al-Ḡeṭā (q.v.; d. 1954), also politically active in Iraq (p. 172).

In his final address, Khomeini exhorts the students and scholars of the religious sciences to mobilize the masses to work for the establishment of an Islamic government. Propagation and instruction are the first steps to take. The imperialists and their agents are engaged everywhere in distorting the truths of Islam, endeavoring to alienate the youth from religion; they take aim particularly at university students, who are, however, opposed to tyranny and eager to learn the truths of Islam. Gatherings such as congregational prayer, the Friday prayer, the Hajj, and the commemoration of ʿĀšurāʾ are occasions for fixing the issue of government in the minds of people; rousing and impassioned speeches should be delivered, even if the ultimate goal cannot be reached in the foreseeable future; what is needed, in fact, is nothing less than a replication of ʿĀšurāʾ (pp. 179-82). Despite the unfavorable circumstances of his time, Imam Jaʿfar al-Ṣādeq laid out a pattern of government for future implementation (pp. 184-86).

An urgent need at present is the reform of the religious teaching institution. Apathy, depression, and laziness have infected Najaf, Qom, and Mashhad, where all too many are content simply to give their opinions on religious law and believe government lies beyond their purview. Too many have fallen prey to the imperialist propaganda that concern with politics, an intrinsically dirty affair, is beneath the dignity of a religious scholar; they may be thought of as saintly, but in reality they are only pseudo-saints (moqaddas-namā; p. 188). Khomeini then recalls a meeting he had at his house in Qom, on an unspecified date, with Ayatollah Borujerdi and three other senior scholars, imploring them to deal with this pestilence of the pseudo-saintly (p. 197). If rational efforts to disabuse these deviants do not succeed, it will become obvious that they are in the service of the state and count as “akhunds of the court” (āḵundhā-ye darbāri); they must—literally—be stripped of their turbans (pp. 201-2). Feqh must indeed be studied and taught in the religious institution, but at the same time the truths of Islam and the nature of Islamic government must be conveyed to the general public (pp. 200-201). This involves the severance of all relations with the existing government and proclaiming its illegitimacy (p. 203).

Khomeini closes this final lecture with a supplicatory prayer for the success of the foqahāʾ in establishing an Islamic government (p. 208).

There is a translation of this work in Algar, Islam and Revolution, pp. 27-165.

POETRY

Given the command of Persian verse that Khomeini displayed at various points in his life, albeit intermittently, it can be assumed that already in his youth, or even as a boy, he had studied and memorized a large body of poetry. An unlikely interlocutor, Nāder Nāderpur (q.v.; d. 2000), modernist poet who chose exile in Los Angeles after the revolution, relates that when, in the early 1960s, he met Khomeini in Qom, “for four hours we recited poetry; every single line I recited from any poet, he recited the next” (cited by Moin, p. 315).

Two of the earliest surviving examples of Khomeini’s poetry are political in content: one ridicules the claim of Reżā Shah to patriotic glory for abolishing capitulations granted to foreign powers; and the other, when Nowruz coincided with the birth anniversary of the Occulted Imam, calling for his aid in overthrowing tyrants (Algar, 1988, p. 275). Given Khomeini’s spiritual disposition and the long-standing consanguinity in Persian literature between poetry—particularly the ḡazal (q.v.)—and gnosticism, there can be little doubt, however, that from his youth onward the bulk of his verse consisted of gnostically inspired ḡazals. Fairly early in life, he is said to have kept with him a notebook in which he wrote down his poems; it was lost, however, in the course of his travels. A similar fate befell two other notebooks, in one of which his wife Ḵadija had transcribed his poems. Other manuscript poems were lost or destroyed when SAVAK ransacked his home in Qom in the aftermath of the uprising of 15 Ḵordād (preface to Divān-e Emām: Majmuʿa-ye ašʿār-e Emām Ḵomeyni, Tehran, 1993, p. 31). It was not until considerably later that, at his home in Jamārān, on the insistence of Aḥmad Khomeini’s wife, Fāṭema Ṭabāṭabāʾi, he is known to have resumed the regular composition of poetry. Her primary interest was initially in philosophy, a discipline from which he gently sought to redirect her to ʿerfān in a succession of quatrains. Reciprocally, she was able to persuade him to compose verse as frequently as possible (her introduction to Divān-e Emām, pp. 33-35).

Some of his poems were first published in five small collections: (1) Rah-e ʿešq (Tehran, 1990), prefaced by the facsimile of a letter to Fāṭema Ṭabāṭabāʾi; (2) Noqṭa-ye ʿaṭf (Tehran, 1990), which includes the text of a hortatory letter addressed to Aḥmad; (3) Maḥram-e rāz (Tehran, 1990), consisting of twenty-six ghazals and fourteen quatrains written between 1984 and 1986 and preceded by another letter to Aḥmad, dated 9 December 1987; (4) Bāda-ye ʿešq (Tehran, 1989), twenty-four ghazals and forty-one quatrains composed between 1984 and 1988 in response to Fāṭema Ṭabāṭabāʾi’s request (translated with commentary by Muhammad Legenhausen as The Mystic Verse of Imam Khomeini, Qom, 1992); and (5) Sabu-ye ʿešq, published on the fortieth day after Khomeini’s death on 3 June 1989, consisting of eight ghazals written between 1986 and 1989. All these poems are included in the Divān-e Emām, together with others that had survived in private hands and were donated to the Institute for the Compilation and Publication of the Works of Imam Khomeini (Moʾassasa-ye tanẓim wa našr-e āṯār-e Emām Khomeyni).

The poems in the Divān are arranged according to genre: ḡazals (139); quatrains (120); qaṣidas (3); mosammaṭ (2); tarjiʿband (1); qeṭaʿāt (31). It is the ḡazals that form the core of the Divān, arranged in traditional form according to the radif, eliminating the possibility of assigning them a date with the exception of those included in Bā da-ye ʿešq; the same applies to the quatrains, except those referring to the Islamic Republic (see pp. 193, 195, 197, 206) and others addressed to “Fāṭi” (fifteen occurrences; see index of proper names in the Divān, p. 343), which plainly relate to the last ten years of his life.

Noteworthy is that, although Khomeini generally makes no use of a maḵlaṣ, on two occasions he identifies himself as “Hendi.” This occurs once in a qeṭʿa with the following opening line: “your alluring stature in the rose bed of beauty/is a cypress not to be found in Kāšmar” (Divān-e Emām, p. 299). Kāšmar (or Kašmar) was one of two locations in Khorasan where Zoroaster is said to have planted cypress trees endowed with lasting miraculous qualities (see ʿAli b. Zayd Bayhaqi, Tāriḵ-e Bayhaq, ed. Aḥmad Bahmanyār, Tehran, n.d., pp. 281-82). It is unclear why Khomeini should have used the maḵlaṣ Hendi on this occasion.

Figure 1. Autograph text of the seventh strophe of the tarjiʿ-band by Khomeini (right) and a version by the calligrapher Nāṣer Jawāherpur (left). After Noqṭa-ye ʿaṭf: Ašʿār-e ʿārefāna-ye Emām Ḵomeyni, Tehran, 1990, pp. 70-71. Translation: In the circle of penniless wayfarers, The far-sighted forbearing rakes, Hermit-like, clasping a cup, Inebriated, free from their selves, In the company of ascetics, yet sipping wine In the garb of the learned, yet heretics In the journey to reach the beloved, A stranger to pleasure as well as pain, Oblivious to the world, through a single cup Amidst wine-drinkers with wounded hearts, He cries out, driven by intoxicated love To those pure of heart, dead to the world: O Pivot of the Mystery of Being, Accept the cup of intoxication from the Friend.

The opening line of the other ghazal where Khomeini uses the maklaṣ “Hendi” reads as follows: “Tonight as you sleep beside me like a bride / let it not be that you deny me an embrace and a kiss, “ and its final line, “Hendi has come all the way from India to your dwelling / that he might surrender his heart to the realm of Shiraz and the empire of Tus” (Divān-e Emām, p. 128). He “has come all the way from India” in the sense that two generations separate him from the Indian sojourn of his ancestors, and he has come to Shiraz and Tus in the sense that he wishes to emulate Hafez and Ferdowsi. The influence of Hafez (q.v.), and to a lesser extent Saʿdi, does indeed pervade his poetry; traces of Ferdowsi are far rarer.

It is above all Hafez from whom he draws inspiration. The opening line of one of Khomeini’s ḡazals reads as follows: “O cupbearer (al ā yā ayyohā’l-sāqi), take away the sorrow from our hearts / for with your cup all problems are solved” (Divān, p. 46). It calls to mind, as no doubt it is intended to do, the celebrated maṭlaʿ of the very first ḡazal in the Divān of Hafez: “O cupbearer (alā yā ayyohā’l-sāqi), pass the cup around and proffer it / for love appeared easy at first, and then problems arose” (Divān-e Šams-al-Din Moḥammad Ḥāfeẓ, ed. Parviz Nātel Ḵānlari, Tehran, 1983, I, pp. 18-19). A further echo of the same poem comes in the fifth line of Khomeini’s ḡazal: “From the flowers in the garden of the friend, what have you glimpsed of that idol? / Remote are you now from that garden, separated by whole oceans and shores (sāḥelhā).” The corresponding line from the first ḡazal by Hafez reads: “A dark night, fear of the waves, an awesome whirlwind— / What know they of our state, those lightly laden on the shore (sāḥelhā)?” The sense of danger and deprivation is common to both lines.

More significant than precise parallels with the ḡazals of Hafez is Khomeini’s regular deployment of the same metaphors concerning wine and its consumption that suffuse the verse of Hafez. The subject has been examined by Aḥmad Faršbāfiān; he has identified numerous verses by Khomeini and Hafez in which the same metaphors occur, and goes to great pains to clarify their roots in ʿerfān. While conceding Hafez’s superiority as a poet, he ranks Khomeini higher as an ʿāref (Mašrab-e ʿerfāni-ye Emām Ḵomeyni va Ḥāfeẓ, n.p., 1997). Slightly different in motivation is Moḥsen Binā’s Šamʿ-e jamʿ: Šarḥ va tafsiri bar baḵši az ḡazaliy āt-e Ḥażrat-e Emām Ḵomeyni (Tehran, 1995). Before commenting in great detail on eight of Khomeini’s ḡazals, he expresses concern that common readers unfamiliar with the metaphors employed might understand them in their literal meaning, thus taking the tavern to mean a wine store and wine to mean the drink forbidden by the šariʿa and now officially banned. (It might of course be argued that the viability of the metaphor of wine as mystical love presumes acquaintance with, or at least awareness of, its liquid analogue). He upbraids other, more educated critics of Khomeini’s poetry for their failure to study poetic tradition (Samʿ-e jamʿ, p. 5).

The political is, for the most part, lacking in the Divān. There are, however, exceptions. A lengthy undated qaṣida in praise of the Occulted Imam (wali ʿaṣr) laments the persistence of royal tyranny, ruthlessly reinforced by the British: “Until when shall the unbelievers continue to quaff the blood of the believers, / these wolves to prey on the sheep? … Until when are we to endure oppression by the British, / they who are unique and unchallenged in their cruelty?” He then appeals to the Occulted Imam: “Make of the center of learning (ḥawza-ye ʿelmiya) of Qom a banner to the world, / so that the firmament turns to the salvation of the Muslims!” (Divān, pp. 263-67). Dating from a much later time, when the desired transformation of Qom had taken place, is this simple quatrain: “Our republic is the ensign bearer of Islam, / the foul plans of the seditious are in vain. The nation thrusts forth on its way, / Ṣaddām has cast himself into a hundred traps (ṣad dām)” (Divān, p. 195). The present writer recalls seeing this quatrain prominently displayed at various sites in Tehran during the Iran-Iraq War.

• (mostly given in the text; see also the bibliography for KHOMEINI i. LIFE for titles not given here).
• Lists of Khomeini’s works have been provided by Reżā Ostādi, “Ketābhā va āṯār-e ʿelmi-ye Emām Ḵomeyni,” Kayhān-e Andiša 29, Farvardin-Ordibehešt 1369, pp. 143-61, Ṣadr-al-Din ʿEmād Dašti, “Ketābšenāsi-ye mawżuʿi-e tawṣifi-ye āṯār-e emām-e rāḥel,” Ḥożur, Ḵordād 1376/June 1995, pp. 40-53. More recent and authoritative is the listing of Khomeini’s published works to be found online at www.imam-khomeini.ir/fa/page/206/; online copies of many of them can be accessed from this website.
• In addition, mention may be made of anthologies of his writings and proclamations on different subjects extracted from various books; Simā-ye zan dar kalām-e Emām Ḵomeini (Tehran, 1986) and Emām dar barā bar-e ṣahyunizm (Tehran, 1983) may be mentioned as examples. Many of his works in Persian have been translated into Arabic. A listing of translations into a wide range of languages is to be found on pp. 179-86 of Fehrest-e ketābhā-ye Moʾassesa-ye tanẓim va našr-e torāṯ-e Emām (Tehran, 1997); the website www.imam-khomeini/ir/EN may also be consulted.
• Studies of Khomeini’s works.
• (a) On ʿerfān. Christian Bonaud, L’Imam Khomeini: Un gnostique méconnu du XXe siècle, Beirut, 1997.
• Alexander Knysh, “Irfan Revisited: Khomeini and the Legacy of Islamic Mystical Philosophy,” Middle East Journal 46/4, Autumn 1992, pp. 631-54.
• (b) On tafsir. Tafsir va šawāhed-e Qorʾāni dar āṯār-e Emām Ḵomeyni, Tehran, 1991.
• Other secondary sources.
• Michael Cook, Commanding Right and Forbidding Wrong in Islamic Thought, Cambridge, 2001, pp. 531-48.
• Abulfadhl Kiashemshaki, “The Universal Degrees, Manifestations and Presences of Existence in Ibn ʿArabi’s School of Mysticism,” Ishrak: Ezhegodnik Islamskoĭ Filosofii 3, 2012, pp. 230-46.