The many faces of Sufism
Sufi thought and practice refuse easy definitions—so do the people who live it
Sufism, or Tasawwuf, is the mystical dimension of Islam that emphasizes inner purification, spiritual closeness to God, and the pursuit of divine love and knowledge.
Often linked to mystical poetry, whirling dervishes and a philosophy of love, Sufism is a deeply rooted Islamic tradition shaping thought and daily life. Dervishes are Sufi practitioners who follow a path of spiritual discipline, asceticism and devotion. They sometimes use whirling—an ecstatic dance symbolizing their beliefs—as meditation and worship.
“My understanding is that Sufism necessitates seclusion or discourages promoting the faith. In essence, it is a return to one’s divine source, to find God,” said Dr. Reza Taher-Kermani, an assistant professor specializing in Sufism and mystical traditions in Islam at Concordia University.
“A key layer of this journey is sacrifice and self-removal to achieve this divine purpose,” Taher-Kermani added. “A true Sufi would not declare themselves as such, as humility is inherent to Sufism."
Sufism has shaped and been shaped by diverse historical, cultural and personal contexts. This manifests through poetry, art, music and rigorous spiritual practices such as meditation, remembrance of God (dhikr) and guidance from spiritual teachers (sheikhs).
The word ‘Sufi’ originates from ‘suf,’ meaning “wool,” referencing the ascetic lifestyle of early Muslim mystics. By the 10th century CE, ‘tasawwuf’—the process of becoming a Sufi—had been formalized by figures like Abu Abd Al-Rahman Al-Sulami, who constructed a lineage of Sufi masters as heirs to prophetic traditions.
As author Carl W. Ernst describes in his 2011 book An Introduction to the Mystical Tradition of Islam-Shambhala, the term Sufi has both descriptive and prescriptive meanings. According to Ernst, in Western academic discourse, Sufism is treated as a distinct religious phenomenon separate from Islam, and analyzed through classification models that impose rigid definitions.
This framing, however, has led to Orientalist misconceptions—Islam as rigid and legalistic, Sufism as transcendental and apolitical, as Taher-Kermani elucidates.
"Sufism is often misperceived as an anti-Islamic branch of Islam, and many insisted on this view, fueling their interest,” Taher-Kermani said. “Some were drawn to Sufism, seeing it as an anti-establishment religious movement existing alongside Islam."
For Taher-Kermani, storytelling, poetry and music are important to Sufism, and beauty is a means to reach the divine. According to him, medieval Persian poets like Hafez and Rumi infused their verses with mystical longing, often blurring the lines between earthly and divine love.
There are moments in poems or certain music where I hear the cry and lamentation of individuals longing for the Divine, for reaching it, and it becomes very difficult to resist its charm and gravitation. — Dr. Reza Taher-Kermani
“If I extend it to medieval Persian poetry, which I’m familiar with, it’s filled with metaphoric adulation of nature,” Taher-Kermani said. “All elements of the natural world, both external and internal, are seen as manifestations of the divine. In these poems, aspects of existence are elaborated as prayer—a way of understanding God, who manifests through the material world.”
Salma Chouqair, a Montreal-based art history and theology student at Concordia, embodies a slightly different approach to the faith. She explores ancestral Sufi practices in North Africa, particularly those rooted in her Moroccan upbringing.
She explains that many ceremonies revolve around music and dance, emphasizing that Sufism extends beyond Dervish practice. In Morocco, ancestral traditions shaped new Sufi schools like Karkariya and Tijaniyya, founded by North African religious leaders.
Chouqair highlights the organic and syncretic nature of Sufi rituals in Morocco, which incorporate music, dance and spiritual ceremonies distinct from mainstream understandings of Sufism.
Also the face behind Bayt Zuhal, which has amassed 17,000 followers on Instagram, Chouqair examines Sufism’s place in cultural and religious identity, bridging tradition with contemporary Moroccan spirituality.
“Sufism emphasizes ancestors—not just direct ones, but also spiritual or creative ancestors you feel connected to beyond genetics,” Chouqair said. “This connection to heritage is important. Take ceremonies like Gnawa, which are embodied practices unlocking deeper consciousness.”
According to Chouqair, Sufism uses symbolism to keep art dynamic rather than fixed in time. She references Algerian multidisciplinary artist Rachid Koraïchi—born into a Sufi family of Qur’anic scholars and copyists—to illustrate how Sufism can be perceived differently inside and outside its cultural context. Her own work is a way to engage with esoteric knowledge through personal experience rather than relying solely on academic study.
Dr. Sara Abdel-Latif, an assistant professor at McGill’s Institute of Islamic Studies, came to Sufism through an academic lens. Raised in a conservative Sunni background in Kuwait, she was unfamiliar with Sufi traditions until her studies led her to their interpretations of the Qur’an. She first approached Sufism academically, drawn to unique ideas like God as beloved, unfamiliar from her upbringing.
“Studying history deepened my understanding, but I felt no strong connection to any Sufi group until meeting my current master eight years ago,” Abdel-Latif said. “Unlike stereotypical mystical teachers, he was simple yet profoundly insightful, reminding me of Rumi in his storytelling and the way he truly saw people’s hearts, which changed everything for me.”
Abdel-Latif’s research focuses on gender in Sufi traditions, particularly the overlooked role of female Sufis.
Discussing her unreleased book on gender and asceticism in medieval Sufism, Abdel-Latif explained how early Sufi practices were individualized acts of devotion, such as wandering without provisions or enduring physical hardship. Over time, these informal practices became institutionalized, emphasizing inward renunciation rather than external displays of asceticism.
Abdel-Latif explains that outward displays of spirituality contradicted Sufi teachings, shifting focus from endurance feats to inward sincerity—true asceticism meant being unseen by others.
She explained that when Sufism moved away from public, performative practices toward a more internalized spirituality, the shift significantly impacted women. Many women had gained influence and followers through their practices, but as men formalized Sufi teachings into structured schools aligned with Sharia—the Islamic legal and ethical system derived from the Qur'an, the Hadith (sayings and actions of Prophet Muhammad) and scholarly interpretations—access became restricted.
The shift from open spaces to walled institutions led to women's exclusion from Sufi traditions, with only figures like the poet and early Sufi mystic Rabia Basri, a prominent religious figure from Iraq, being remembered in history.
Abdel-Latif challenges the notion of Sufism as inherently egalitarian. She explained that while figures like Andalusi Sunni scholar and Sufi mystic Ibn Arabi saw spiritual authority as gender-independent, others reinforced restrictive norms.
According to Abdel-Latif, the flexibility of Sufi thought, which emphasizes inner spirituality over external form, allowed for more gender-inclusive interpretations, but did not always translate into equal opportunities for women.
“For instance, Jahanara Begum, a Chishti disciple and Mughal princess, had great spiritual prowess but couldn’t teach due to her gender,” Abdel-Latif said.
Abdel-Latif highlighted that Sufism is not a single doctrine but an evolving practice, interpreted and reinterpreted across cultures and time.
For Taher-Kermani, Sufism offers individuals an opportunity to discover a unique understanding of the universe, and to establish a connection with their creator.
“There are moments in poems or certain music where I hear the cry and lamentation of individuals longing for the Divine, for reaching it,” Taher-Kermani said, “and it becomes very difficult to resist its charm and gravitation.”
This article originally appeared in Volume 45, Issue 10, published March 4, 2025.
