J.G.

Bennett & Abdullah Daghestani

Damascus, 1951
We did not reach Cyprus till evening, and had barely time to transfer
to a plane for Beirut. We were met by friends, Ronimund von Bissing
and his wife. They told me that a Turkish dervish had been waiting all
day to give me a message. I spoke to the young man, who asked me to
visit his Murshid, Sheikh Abdullah Daghestani, who lived in the
Kurdish quarter of Damascus. I said that it would not be possible, as
we were to leave early in the morning for Baghdad. He did not insist,
but said that the sheikh would expect to see me. Hiring a taxi at the
airport in Beirut, we went straight to Damascus, by the route I had
several times travelled when I was last in Syria. On arrival in
Damascus, we found that the Nairn coach was not leaving until the
next day. I therefore decided to visit Sheikh Abdullah.
Elizabeth came with me as far as the tomb of Muhiddin Ibn Arabi. As
Emin Chikhou had firmly refused to speak with women, I expected

the same from Abdullah, and therefore sent Elizabeth back to the
hotel. I had not been told where the sheikh lived, but I was to find him
by enquiring at the shop of a barber called Turkish Ali, opposite the
Ibn Arabi Mosque. Turkish Ali had been taken ill and was in hospital,
no one knew where. It looked as if I had drawn a blank; but, as I left
the tomb of the Saint, I came face to face with the same old Hadji
who, eighteen months before, had guided me to the sanctuary called
Arbaein. He was evidently expecting me, and when I asked if he knew
the house of Sheikh Abdullah, he simply said: "It is near the path we
went by last time." On the way, he told me that the sheikh was known
as a very holy man. He was born in Daghestan, near the Caspian Sea,
and is known therefore as Abdullah Daghestani. He had lived for
many years in Turkey, and could speak the language perfectly. He had
travelled widely, and received visitors from many countries. We
should probably find him in a small mosque which had been built by
his pupils for his private use.
The sheikh was waiting for me on the roof of his house. It was high up
above the city, commanding a superb panorama. Abdullah Daghestani
was of middle height, with a white beard, but looked far younger than
the seventy-five years attributed to him by the Hadji. I felt at ease
from the start, and very soon I experienced a great happiness that
seemed to fill the place. I knew that I was in the presence of a really
good man. After the usual salutations, and compliments of the
excellence of my Turkish, he astonished me by saying:
"Why did you not bring the lady sister who is with you? I have a
message for her as well as you." It seemed unlikely that anyone could
have told him about Elizabeth. We had walked straight to his house,
and the Dadji, my guide, had left me at the door without speaking to
anyone. I replied that as he was a Muslim, I did not think he would
wish to speak with a woman. He said very simply: "Why not? Rules
and customs are for the protection of the foolish; they do not concern
me. Next time you pass through Damascus, will you bring her to see
me?" I promised to do so if the opportunity came. We sat for a long

time in silence, watching the ancient city. When he began to speak, I

found it hard to come out of the deep reverie into which I had fallen.
He was saying: "I was expecting someone today, but I did not know it
would be you. A few nights ago an angel came to my room and told
me that you would come to visit me and that I was to give you three
messages. You have asked God for guidance about your wife. She is in
God's keeping. You have tried to help her, but this is wrong. You
disturb the work that God is doing in her soul. There is no cause for
anxiety about her, but it is useless for you to try to understand. The
second message concerns your house. You have asked God for
guidance as to whether you should go your way or follow others. You
must trust yourself. You will be persecuted by the Armenians, but you
must not be afraid. You have to attract many people to you and you
must not hesitate even if other people are angry."
He fell silent again. I was astonished at the two messages, for it was
perfectly true that I had prayed for guidance on just those two
questions. If he was right, then the way before me was clear. I was
already beginning to plan a series of public lectures that I would give
in the autumn, when he broke into my thoughts again.
"The most important message is the last. You must know that there is
great wickedness in the world. People have given themselves over to
the worship of material things, and they have lost the will and the
power to worship God. God has always sent Messengers to show the
way out of such situations, and he has again done so in our present
age. A Messenger is already on earth, and his identity known to many.
Before long he will come to the West. Men have been chosen to
prepare the way for him." He had led up to this point in a quiet,
matter-of-fact tone of voice. Then his manner changed, and he spoke
more slowly to hold my attention, saying: "It was shown to me that
you are one of those chosen to prepare the way. You have a duty in
the West. People will listen to you, and you will recognize the time to
speak. The Messenger will come to your country and even to your
house. You have now to return to your country and prepare your

house to receive him. You must not speak to anyone of what I have
told you, for you will not be believed until the time comes. The
followers of the Armenian will persecute you if they know what you
are doing. Therefore you must keep everything to yourself."
I could not understand what he was referring to, and said so. He
replied that it was not necessary to understand, but only to be
prepared. He said: "You should never cease to worship God, only you
must not show it. Outwardly you must behave as others do. God has
appointed two angels to take care of you. One will guide and direct
you so that you will no longer make mistakes as before. The other will
perform the religious duties that you cannot do for yourself." He said
that he had finished telling me the messages, but wished to add as
personal advice that he recommended to me to practise incessantly the
act of submission to the Will of God. He said that no harm can come
to anyone when he is actively and consciously surrendering himself to
the Will of God. He said: "I advise you frequently to repeat in your
heart the words la ilihe il Allahwhich means surrender to God
alone." When I said that this was the Muslim profession of faith, he
replied that it is as much Christian as Muslim, for the foundation of all
religion is that man should not follow his own will, but the Will of
God. He repeated what he had said before: "You have nothing to fear,
for you are henceforward under protection. Nothing will go wrong
with you."
We sat together for some time longer. I asked him about the great
Murshid of the dervishes I lad heard of in Anatolia. He said: "I know
him. He is my friend, and came here to visit me recently. He looks
outwardly an insignificant little man, but he is a true Wali" - that is a
saint. He added that there were others in the Muslim world who knew
what was to come, and were preparing themselves and others. He
went on to speak in eschatological terms - but in some respects what
he said was significantly different from what I had heard from Emin
Chikhou. When I mentioned Emin's name, I fancied a trace of
hesitation before he replied: "He is a good man, and he does much
good."

When I had to leave, I asked his permission to come again in ten days'
time. I returned to the hotel by tram, and as it rattled down the hill, I
asked myself whether these strange prophecies should be taken
seriously. His two "messages" about my wife and my home were
indeed remarkably apt. He could scarcely have known enough from
any human source to realize that these two questions were so
important for me at that moment. The reference to Armenians
haunted me. Gurdjieffs mother had been an Armenian, and his family
was more Armenian than Greek. The warning could be interpreted as
meaning that Gurdjieffs people would turn against me.
Did he have clairvoyant powers? Had he indeed been warned by an
angel? I remembered the angel that had "spoken" to me about death
in September 1947. I believed in angels, though I had no idea of their
true nature. If Abdullah Daghestani could have authentic knowledge
about me, not attributable to sense perception or thought, then he
might also have authentic knowledge about the presence on earth of a
Messenger from God. I recoiled from such an inference. The world
has tired of announcements of its imminent end, and mankind has
grown weary of new prophets.
And yet 1 myself had written seven years earlier of the New Epoch,
and of my conviction that there would be a fresh manifestation of the
Divine Mercy. There was nothing so very wrong with what the sheikh
had said, except its inherent improbability. I could not reach any
conclusion, and resolved to take his own advice to make no attempt to
understand what he had told me.
.
When we reached Damascus, I took Elizabeth to see Sheikh Abdullah
Daghestani. He said to her: "This man has been chosen by God for a
great task. You have been chosen to help and to serve him. He will
need you beside him, and you must never leave him. What angels will
do for him in the invisible world, you must do in the visible world."

Elizabeth explained that we were not married, but he brushed this

aside, saying: "It is God's Will that you should be his companion and
that your soul should be united with his soul." He went on to speak in
some detail of the work she was required to do and then, turning to
me again, he said: "Very soon you will receive an indication."
Few sights in the world are more beautiful than the view of Damascus
from the hills at sunset. As we sat in silence looking over the ancient
city, the sheikh beside us with his spotless white burnous and turban
and his equally white beard, we experienced an intense happiness. He
had dared to put into words what we secretly felt in our hearts.