Nassrollah Pourjavady re-reads ‘From Manichaeism to Sufism’ / How did Mani globalize his religion? / The continuation of a silent legacy
According to Khabaronline News Agency, Reza Dastjerdi wrote in IBNA’s Religion and Thought Service: The second edition of “From Manichaeism to Sufism” by Nassrollah Pourjavady, recently published by Farhang-e Moaser Publications, is a collection of articles resulting from the author’s research over the past seven to eight years on wisdom and mysticism in pre-Islamic Iran, especially Manichaeism and its influence on Iranian mysticism and Sufism in the Islamic period. Pourjavady, a philosopher, researcher, and mysticism scholar, has attempted in this book—where the concept of human life and ascent to “zendegani,” meaning spiritual life, is the main topic of most of its articles—to discuss some aspects of Manichaeism, “this living religion,” and in fact, as he himself states, “to follow a path in his research that Seyyed Hassan Taqizadeh alluded to in his discourse.”
At the beginning of the work, in the preface to the second edition of his book, Pourjavady emphasizes that Mani’s religion has not had as continuous and profound an impact in any other land as it has in Iran. Mani, an Iranian prophet fluent in Parthian and Syriac, created a universal religion by combining Christian, Zoroastrian, and Gnostic elements. However, what is important from the author’s perspective is not merely Mani’s religion itself, but its cultural and spiritual continuity within Iranian mysticism.
The author, with a historical and comparative approach, shows how Manichaean beliefs, despite severe suppression by the Abbasid Caliphate after the second century AH, continued in a new guise, namely Islamic Sufism. In his view, many Sufi “elders” (Piran) and “dervishes” were originally adherents of Manichaeism who lived as Muslims to preserve their lives and beliefs.
Even figures like Baba Taher Oryan, according to the author, were likely descendants or transformations of the same Manichaean tradition. This historical continuity, in Pourjavady’s view, is not accidental but cultural and linguistic; because fundamental concepts such as “living-heartedness” (zendeh-deli), “life” (zendegi), “living light” (nur-e zendeh), and “collection/gathering” (jam’) are present in both traditions and, in both, acquire a meaning beyond natural life and philosophical reason.
Furthermore, the author mentions Seyyed Hassan Taqizadeh as the first Iranian to scientifically address Manichaeism. He has continued the path Taqizadeh began and sought to re-read the relationship between Manichaeism and Sufism not from a political or historical perspective, but from an epistemological and cultural linguistic viewpoint. In this context, the role of researchers like Ahmad Afshar Yazdi and Iraj Afshar is also highlighted, as they compiled and published Taqizadeh’s works, paving the way for Manichaean studies in Iran.
The first article in the book, dedicated to examining the meaning of “life” (zendegi) in Iranian mysticism, is one of Pourjavady’s most important intellectual axes. By referring to Christian and Manichaean mysticism, he shows that the concept of “being alive” (zendeh budan) in these traditions refers not to physical life, but to spiritual life and inner awakening. In Mani’s religion, “being alive” is a characteristic of the prophet and his disciples; a living being connected with “knowledge” (danesh) and “light” (nur), who also calls others to “living-heartedness” (zendeh-deli). Pourjavady views Iranian mysticism from this perspective and argues that “zendegani” and “zendeh-deli” are concepts that have entered Sufi literature from this very Manichaean tradition.
In the second article, the author, with linguistic precision, delves into the word “enhilal” (dissolution) in Ibn al-Nadim’s “Al-Fihrist.” He demonstrates that this term, contrary to its Arabic appearance, has Iranian roots and is derived from the verb “bohl kardan” or “bohli khastan”—meaning release and forgiveness. Thus, “enhilal” in its Manichaean sense is not the dissolution of the body, but the liberation of the soul from the bondage of matter. Pourjavady, through this analysis, shows how concepts of salvation, repentance, and liberation entered Islamic Sufism from the semantic world of Manichaeism and have continued in the form of concepts such as “tawba” (repentance), “fana” (annihilation), and “baqa billah” (subsistence in God). This etymological approach is one of the prominent features of Pourjavady’s research style; he shows that the history of language is the history of thought itself.
In the third article, the author traces the etymology of the word “zandiq,” which was usually used in Islamic texts for heretics and infidels. Contrary to the common view that it is derived from “Zand” (the interpretation of the Avesta), Pourjavady believes that “zandiq” comes from “zendehgar” (the one who makes alive)—an attribute given to Mani, as he called himself “Mani the Living.” This interpretation not only shifts the word’s semantic burden from accusation to life but also demonstrates how “life” (zendegi) in Iranian mysticism transformed from a religious concept into an ethical and existential one.
The fourth article in the book, “Wisdom and Knowledge from the Perspective of Mani the Sage,” discusses the relationship between intellect and revelation. According to Pourjavady, Mani claimed to have received his knowledge directly from his celestial twin—Narjamig. This narrative recalls the story of Moses and Khidr in the Quran, where “ladunni” knowledge is introduced as knowledge beyond human intellect. In this article, Pourjavady speaks of the continuity of two types of wisdom: divine wisdom and human wisdom. This distinction later resonated in the Illuminationist philosophy of Suhrawardi and even in the mysticism of Ibn Arabi. From this perspective, Iranian Sufism is a natural continuation of the Iranshahr luminous wisdom, in which light is living, conscious, and knowing.
In the fifth article, the author conceptually compares “Ravanchini knowledge” (purification of the soul) in Manichaeism with “Jam'” (collection/gathering) in Sufism. Manichaeans believed that humans must eliminate inner dispersion through the purification of the soul and achieve unity and concentration. This same idea appears in Sufism in the concepts of “Jam’,” “Jam’ al-Jam'” (collection of collections), and “Yekhemmati” (single-mindedness). Pourjavady considers this connection not merely historical but epistemological; because in both schools, the path to salvation passes through concentration on a single truth.
The sixth article, titled “Mani’s Claim ‘I am the Sun’,” discusses one of Mani’s famous claims: “identifying himself with the sun.” Pourjavady interprets this belief as a continuation of the Avestan tradition of worshipping light and the sun. In his view, Mani’s idea of “living light” inspired Suhrawardi in formulating Illuminationist wisdom. Suhrawardi, like Mani, considered light a living and conscious entity. Thus, his philosophy of light was not merely a Platonic re-creation but a revival of an ancient Iranian tradition.
In the seventh article, Pourjavady analyzes the “dervishes’ cloak” or “kherqa” and demonstrates its Manichaean and Mazdean roots. In Mani’s religion, the garment was not merely an outer covering but a symbol of purification and spiritual journey. This same meaning continued in Sufism in the form of “kherqa,” “moraqqa’,” and “jameh-e faqr” (garment of poverty). According to the author, the symbolism in wearing the kherqa indicates the continuation of an idea that established a symbolic link between body and soul, outer and inner, and covering and truth.
The eighth article of the book examines the trajectory of Illuminationist wisdom from ancient Iran to Suhrawardi. Pourjavady believes that Illuminationist philosophy, at its foundation, is indebted to the wisdom of the Magi and Manichaeans. Both emphasized the two principles of light and darkness and considered light to be a conscious and living entity. This perspective later evolved into a coherent philosophical system in Suhrawardi’s works, presenting nature as a living and conscious being.
The last article in the collection is a narrative of Mani’s childhood and shows how his life has been recounted in the form of sacred and allegorical stories. Pourjavady, by analyzing these narratives, points to their similarities with Christian and Sufi “walinama” (accounts of saints) and hagiographies. He concludes that these types of stories, more than being historical reports, carry religious and educational messages and serve as a model for the continuation of sanctity in Iranian culture.
“From Manichaeism to Sufism” is an intellectual project that endeavors to show the link between two phases of Iran’s spiritual history, pre-Islamic and post-Islamic. In this book, the boundaries between philosophy, religion, and mysticism break down; Mani sits beside Suhrawardi, and the concepts of “light,” “living-heartedness,” and “collection/gathering” connect like links in a single chain. From a methodological perspective, the book is a brilliant example of comparative research between religious traditions. Pourjavady, with mastery over Pahlavi, Syriac and Arabic sources, as well as a deep familiarity with Sufi texts, provides a coherent picture of the evolution of spiritual concepts. His prose is simple yet philosophical; he avoids hasty judgments and constantly seeks the connection between the “language” and “spirit” of Iranian culture.
Pourjavady emphasizes that his goal in writing the book is not to claim a direct continuation of Manichaeism in Sufism, but to explain the intellectual and linguistic links between the two. In other words, he shows how the Iranian spirit, from the mold of the ancient religion of Mani to the mystical language of Islam, has been searching for a common meaning; a living light that shines in the human heart and leads one from mere existence to spiritual life.
The second edition of “From Manichaeism to Sufism” has been published in 378 pages by Farhang-e Moaser Publications.
