Arabic Poetry: Trajectories of Modernity and Tradition

Exilic Arabic poetry draws on three sources: first, the strong exilic tradition
that includes poems and writings by intellectuals and poets of renown like
al-Mutanabbl(d. 965), Abn>ayymn al-Taw.ldl(d. 1023), the brigand poets
and most of the Sufis;^4 second, the present scene of political turmoil with its
devastating results and impact; and third, the modern “landscape of ruins,”
in Hugo Friedrich’s words, with its synonymous negative connotations of
“[d]eformation, depersonalization, obscurity, dehumanization, incongruency,
dissonance, and empty ideality.”^5

Exilic evocations

The power of the past

Arabic poetry of exile serves then as the bridge between tradition and modernity,
as it builds on a classical corpus that manifests four significant aspects: first,
there is the desire to traverse the universe, gain knowledge and enjoy the
new location “against the vicissitudes of time,” as AbnNuwms (d. c.813) says
once.^6 Second, there is paradoxically the fear of humiliation and desolation in
leading the life of al-gharlb(the stranger). ‘AllIbn al-Jahm (killed 863) is
reported as reciting:

Pity the stranger in a foreign country,

what has he done to himself?

He left his friends, and they had no use

for life after he was gone, nor did he.

He enjoyed great prestige when he lived near his domicile,

but later when he was far away, he was downcast

Being a stranger far away, he says:

God is just whatever He does.^7

A third aspect should perhaps be associated with al-Taw.ldl, for, in the words
of Rosenthal, he “infused literary tradition with both Sufi internalization and
philosophical discipline in a way that was hardly possible after his time.”^8
While he accumulates all the difficulties and hardships associated with phys-
ical dislocation, including humiliation, absence of human contact and loss of
friends and family, there is also his own overwhelming sense of alienation.
“He is the one who is absent when he is present and who is present when he
is absent,” he says. Moreover, there is an innate sense of strangeness. “Nay,
he is the one who is the stranger in his strangeness.”^9
A fourth aspect relates to the Prophet’s saying: “Be in this world as if you
were a stranger.” The Muslim’s true home becomes the spiritual one, for the
physical world is transitory and passing. One’s sojourn on earth means little,
no more than a trial, in preparation for the next. As a transit, the world does
not deserve to be an abode for the Sufis who largely endorse the life of

ENVISIONING EXILE