Chapter 2 Chapter 01-05 of the first red and green flag

Chapter 01 What is Zhaheren If you go north from the city of Xi'an, or go west from a series of natural borders such as the Hetao, the Great Wall, and the deserts on the southern edge of Mongolia, the world that first catches people's vision away from the romantic customs of Central Asia and Xinjiang is a vast, endless, barren world. Loess Plateau. There is no need to go deep.Just staring at it, as long as you can keep looking at it without turning your back, this scorched and reddish-brown cracked soil and bare mountain will burn your eyes.Under the horribly hot sun, the eyes will be dry, cracked, and bloodshot, and an indescribable thirst will always penetrate the lungs, making people thirsty for water forever.

Although there are some dry riverbeds, and although there are springs and wells in some places, the most famous in this world is cellar water. Use cement to paste the bottom wall of a large cellar. In winter, the solid ice of all the ditches and branches is dug out, and the snow in all the valleys is carried on the back - poured into the cellar with grass roots and clods of dry sheep manure - melted into a cellar of sewage in summer , to feed a family.To marry a wife and call a daughter-in-law, you must first show the stock of water cellars; how many cellars of water you have is proof of how many financial resources you have.

A crop is a hopeless hope. In the years of drought, not only the crops are not harvested, but also a pile of wheat grass cannot be harvested.People can flee from famine, but cattle can only starve to death—people have to pay high prices to buy grass in disaster years; cattle can help people plow construction on high and remote mountain slopes in the coming year. The students all study hard in order to escape from their hometown. Women can't get married, they are so poor that they often have never seen the neighboring villages, and they don't have a suit of clothes. Needless to say ancient times, let’s just talk about the period of “natural disasters” around 1960——Shagouzhuangzi, the village I will mention again and again in this book, has a total of forty households and a few hundred people. There have been tragedies in which more than 70 people died of starvation.

At that time, people in the village ate bitter vegetables.The children of some families went to the mountains to ridicule bitter vegetables, and never came back after entering the mountains.He didn't even have the strength to dig the ground, and died beside the wild vegetables that could save his life. After eating bitter vegetables every day, my body gradually became transparent.The people in Shagou told me with tears in their eyes that they could see the lumps of bitter vegetables in other people's stomachs that day. When the son died in the mountains, the companion ran back to the village in fright and told the child's mother.But she had just brought a bowl of mushy soup, and she was planning to wait for her son to dig up the bitter vegetables and give it to him to drink. When she heard the news of her son's death, the mother grabbed the bowl and started to drink it herself!

My enlightener, Ma Zhiwen, a Shagou farmer, said angrily: Bitter bitter vegetables saved the people of Shagou.His father was unbearable and fled to Qinghai one night-the son recalled: At that time, I only wanted to eat a piece of steamed bun that my elder (father) put down!When the father carried his back and left his hometown, grandma and mother cried and sent him out of the ditch—but the son stole the piece of bun and swallowed it in a few mouthfuls. At that time, the sand ditch - wolves and foxes ran together from house to house.A woman was sick on the kang, and the wolf entered the house.But people thought it was a dog and ignored it.

——This is the world of Zheherenye Hui people. In such a world, faith is the only way out. For several years, on the earthen kang of the Zheherenye people, hugging a quilt with them, smelling the choking smell of the leaves and cow dung they burned on the kang, I listened.I listen a lot but I fall asleep.My listening is like absorbing.The story like the endless mountain wind and the thick kang smoke did not stay in my memory, but just melted into my blood. Faith, I've been thinking about that word for years. There is such a distant story in Shagou: There was a family with four brothers, who was so poor that they only had a broken cotton mattress.For the sake of faith, the government arrested two of the four brothers—the eldest one was unbearable and escaped from prison after being tortured by the jailer with pork, but was captured and killed.The fourth child served his sentence and was executed all the time.The third and second children who stayed in Shagou’s hometown, the older second child starved to death in a famine—there was only one person in the empty house with two broken mattresses, and the rotten cotton mattress was also stolen.It's totally a real thing.The family of orphans who survived met me later and told me the story.

At the same time as the family was destroyed in the religious persecution of the four brothers, there is also a story about the two brothers.The government destroyed the mosque, banned religious belief, and put his younger brother in a black jail when he was arrested. After a long time, news spread that the younger brother had been tortured to death in the prison.When his elder brother heard about it, he decided to bury his younger brother who had dedicated his life to the religion in the holy Gongbei (tomb of saints; this word will be mentioned many times below)—and set out for the prison far away.

When he arrived at the prison, the government saw that a relative had identified the corpse, so he pointed out the place to him.In the middle of winter, the face of the dead man did not change, so his brother carried the body (called "buried body" by the Hui people) and set foot on the journey of thousands of miles towards the sand ditch.The man who carried the corpse did not dare to walk on the main road; he hid in the wasteland during the day and drove towards the sand ditch at night. In this way, the man returned to Shagou with the corpse on his back. Fifteen years had passed since the deceased was arrested.His twenty-year-old young daughter-in-law was waiting for him, and she was thirty-five this year.The moment she saw the dead body, the woman fainted from crying.A thousand miles behind the buried body, this is the most famous historical story of Shagou.The sacrificed people were buried in Gongbei (not just their hometown), and the spirit of the people seemed to get a little comfort and balance.However, the story is not over yet.

The man who carried the corpse did not want to live anymore because of his grief.After he buried his brother, he also dug a grave for himself in Gongbeili, Shagou.He raised his own will, fasted, and lay down in the grave.People all over the village were looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.Later, someone suddenly thought of Gong Bei, so he was discovered.It was already the seventh day, and he had only one breath left.People strangled him home, but when he was revived they cursed at those who rescued him.The people in the village knelt down for him and begged him to have a mouthful of soup——I couldn't bear to listen to this story afterwards, and I was so angry that I would never listen or ask a word.

On that night in Shagou, I made up my mind to write this book.That day was the closing day of the Fourth Congress of the Chinese Writers Association—later I read an article in a magazine that a certain writer satirized another writer as a dancer, but he himself danced twice with the "congress staff". People heard about me and kept coming to see me.I listened to this raging suffering every day, and felt that my heart seemed to be marinated in a sea of ​​bitterness. It was snowing heavily, and the children playing in the yard were barefoot.I felt uncomfortable and asked the adults why they didn't get a pair of socks.Ma Zhiwen smiled and said: I have never seen cotton trousers before!

At night, I walked out of his yellow mud hut.The sky is full of stars, dark and clear.I stared up, waiting for the revelation. What is this place? What is Zhaherenye? Someone speaks.Two pale white hats flickered in the darkness.Another family came to me—to tell ancient stories. Among the Chinese, only this branch of people can be familiar with history and remember it from generation to generation.I hurriedly greeted him, said hello, entered the house, and gave way before going to the kang.The story is similar - the government came to destroy our religion, we picked up the ax and went.The ancestors of my family, heck, the old man took three sons and fought desperately with the officers and soldiers.Later?Later, another group of officers and soldiers came, and my family was joined by my son again.Lost, there was no food, and six of the fifteen members of the family died.Grandma is devastated by hunger.The officers and soldiers caught it away, but they couldn't find it when they went looking for it.There are many bones of people flowing in the big canal beside the city.Can the official family put in a brand name? I can't find the brand name. I can only find a skeleton of a person. Kneel down and recite a sole (broken chapter of the Qur'an), and I will come back after going to the grave.The person who was arrested had his head swollen from the beating; later he escaped from prison and ran home, but he dared not say anything, only that it was swollen from mosquito bites.Outside the south gate of the big city, people are on the ground, and I saw some signs of death row prisoners, all of them are Zheherenye Hui people.Can't think about it. Carry a big bag and want to pick some bones back.I couldn't pick it up, so I went back to Shagou crying.When they came back to the village, people thought they had picked up the bones and came up to pick them up crying, but in fact they came back with empty bags.Alas, Zheheren, what a pre-determined call (order). I sent someone away, it's late at night.Every night.I don't know whether it is I who are holding the memory of bitterness meeting, or the peasants are running the history department. What is the Hui nationality? What is Zhaherenye? I looked at the deep night sky, and I have been asking this question for six years in a row.The barren mountain was speechless.This small village in the heart of the Loess Plateau, which is almost impoverished, seems to force me to answer it myself. I can only feel; this is a whole new territory. Chapter 02 Sanctuary This is a real backcountry, with dire scenery and tough people.No force is suitable here except mysticism (i.e. Sufism). Terroir is incomprehensible—I can only express fleeting associations with it in prose or verse; I cannot penetrate it.The inability of intellectuals to it is the reason why the Loess Plateau of this religion has not been understood. It’s incomprehensible, you can only worship it—there is no water for the summer; but the village head is three miles away, mules and cattle are in herds, and the thousand-person village is adjacent to each other. What do they drink? ——There are very few literate people in the illiterate area; in the past, because of a kind of foresight and narrow-mindedness, the Muslims here did not advocate children reading square characters, but they are proficient in two hundred years of history.Do you know the historical events of Qianlong Year, Jiaqing Year, Tongzhi Year or the 28th Year of the Republic of China? It is full of mysterious legends.It is very easy for people to encounter strange things here.There is an Islamic term, kalamati (miracle), that is very popular in this world.Do not believe it?When you really see it with your own eyes, when a miracle really happens to you because of the reasons you keep in your heart, you will only want to reverence, and you will be filled with fear. There was a miracle between me and Ma Zhiwen. All the readers of Zhehe Renye will believe this, because they have all felt and encountered miracles to some extent. Let loose in this man's wilderness, and your worldview will be subtle. The eastern half of Gansu.All Ningxia in the north and south - Silver Dachuan and Xihaigu Mountains.A corner of Qinghai and most of the oasis in Xinjiang at the two foothills of the Tianshan Mountains—this world will seduce a lonely life, conquer old knowledge, and crush frivolity so that people can only worship it. The way of Confucius and Mencius that ruled China is the weakest here.The masters of old China—the big landlord class—are poor in quantity and quality here.There are very few cultural families with bells and lanterns and thousands of volumes of books, and there are few Confucian generals, prime ministers, celebrities and masters.In an environment where the orthodox scholar-bureaucrat culture was backward, it was difficult for the indigenous folk culture to suppress and naturalize the spirit of religion, especially the spirit of mysticism. The Hui people, like the Han people, are hopelessly waiting for their lives in this barren mountain and bad land.Generally speaking, they have no need to envy their neighbors who may live a more humble life than themselves.The state of half-starvation makes the Islamic fasting rules seem more holy.The almost inhumane sexual repression and filthy hygienic conditions of others give circumcised men and women who cover their bodies some kind of mysterious satisfaction.There is no water in the village, but the Hui people insist on religious bathing, but the cleanliness of water is the top priority in every family; those Han people who put a ladle of mud soup and dirty water in the pot can't understand-why keep such clean water bath.The most important thing is that in addition to hard work, when outsiders can't find anything to do except go to the kang and blow on the lamp to fall asleep, the melodious chanting in the mosque is spread in the dark.The world doesn’t stop there, there is a better hope for being a human being——this phenomenon, in the scorched yellow that is so desolate and bare stone veins, rolling thousands of miles away, has become a reality and has become the master inconceivably. Not only the way of Confucius and Mencius and official announcements, even science is weak here.Whoever has not lost the last sensibility will encounter mystery in his life.Since the land is fundamentally uninhabitable, those who are forced to live here have to rely on another logic.Coupled with the transmission of blood, the Hui people have gradually developed a unique habit of understanding due to the role of blood, the most difficult part of the human body. This kind of chilling scenery is incomprehensible, this kind of cruel drought and catastrophe is incomprehensible, this kind of vision that rolls for thousands of miles without a star of green is just dry yellow is incomprehensible, this kind of inability to survive is incomprehensible. It is incomprehensible to be unable to get out of the desperate situation - the irrationality of nature has eliminated the dignified and rational thinking of Chinese style.Muslims have reproduced from generation to generation, balancing their aching hearts with the fresh logic of Sufism. The specific perception of the senses is blunted, the reasoning of stereotyped essays disappears, the rules and circles of others are doubted, and popular scientific knowledge is broken—the followers of Sufi sects only believe in mystery and their own imagination And intuition, only believe in abnormalities, grotesques, and supernormal things, only believe in spirituality that ordinary people do not believe in, and only believe in the miracles of Klamati. Especially in the area centered on Longshan, the terroir is extremely sad and terrifying.Walking in that wild mountain, people's hearts are shrouded in terror and awe, and a trace of abnormal inspiration gradually emerges.Understanding this terroir, and especially acknowledging the mystical atmosphere of the terroir around Longshan, is important for understanding the Zheherenya sect described in this book.It should even be considered that: precisely because the minimum vitality of secular economy and culture has been lost here, the merciful Creator has given priority to the divinity of the other world here. Because people who pursue the sacred always strive to pursue the sacred environment, they are in the Northwest, and even belong to the Hui nationality. The views of Zhaherenya and the Sufis are quite different from others.Jehrenya, with religious feelings, especially with a strong feeling of martyrdom and longing for miracles, is often not understood by people.However, without Zheherenye's experience, the Northwest would be an ugly and ugly wasteland.This proposition is of universal significance: the world of those who lack religious quality and emotion is nothing but the accumulation of things that have lost their sanctity. For the secular Chinese, or what we call secular Chinese, the space is uniform, the only difference is the country, and the same is true for people.Those who live among them are emotionally neutral. But for the holy or religious Chinese, especially the Zhehe Renye, the Hui group, the space is uneven.In this sea of ​​loess, the locations are quite different.Some of the most astonishingly poor and barren ravines and slopes, according to Zheherenye, are the gardens of the real world. Therefore, life can be tolerated again - because at least here there are Dosdani (Zheherenye people) who know each other well, there are legends of martyrs passed down from generation to generation, and there is Muleshid who leads everyone and is always ready to die (Mentors, saints, leaders), the most important thing is the Gongbei Cemetery where countless martyrs' bones rest.The pursuit of faith is one of the most important guarantees to settle down, and religion and life are inseparable here. This is the living environment of Zheherenye Hui people.Maybe you go for a walk to see flowers, and you will feel that the environment is not too poor; maybe you stay for a few days and feel that there is no way to survive-in fact, all you should do is to listen; with a respect, waiting for enlightenment in that terroir . Zhehe Renye has carried out this kind of subjective spiritual "place purification" in all the areas where he lives.They have been driven from the secular world into this desolate and desperate situation around Longshan Mountain, so they have built a spiritual pure land in this desperate situation, and live in this trusting land.They love their land, just as they have refined the Chinese people's love for their motherland. The only difference is that the Chinese can rise up only when the bandits invade, but Zhehe Renye is always in the situation of being persecuted and insulted, so he is always ready to resist and die. Their beloved homeland will always be their place of exile. Their blood is like the grass and trees in their hometown, one withered and one withered. Chapter 03 A Saint Is Born Poor people struggling on the edge, as long as there is a protracted drought, as long as there is no heavy snow in winter to fill the incredible water cellar, as long as a hailstorm falls in summer over the sparse crop fields-it will fall off the edge, From living to the brink of death. The Muslims in the Northwest are like a blind man living in a mud house on the edge of a loess cliff, the danger of falling into the abyss silently accompanies his life. People can only be sincere and sincere, and they can only rely on the Lord.The rough and undisciplined life changed suddenly as soon as they stepped into the threshold of the mosque, showing a serious and pious look. The men still solemnly washed every inch of their flesh, the women called the Lord like crying, and the children carried a thick book They go to school in droves, full of childishness—it’s just that their primary school is taught in the classroom, not to read a few words of culture, but to read a little soul. The old people almost gave up all their livelihoods in this world and wandered in the temple all day long.I once looked at the temple from a distance at night in Shagou. The sky was black and red, the shadow of the mountain was black and red, and the outline of the temple building was hidden in the black and red of the night—only the open gate was filled with orange light.I saw the backs of some old people, ups and downs, saluting intently. Men, women and children are waiting. Allow it. Born for us. I feel that the whole village and the dark red mountain night shadow are sighing.It seems to be praying, it seems to be suffering in pain. We are no longer capable.We are weak as sheep.We are unclean.We cannot beat it.We have no bridges. We have been abandoned to live in this kind of hometown.We have been born into the living Hell.Allow it.We have just done Usri (Ghusl) at this moment, and we wear Abdess (Wood) every day, and we take advantage of this moment of cleanliness to extend our hands to you.Aminai (allow it)!We are dull, we have no way out.Give us the golden bridge, reveal the road in the barren hills, and let us.Lead us to purity, allow us to approach the Lord, and accept us as heavenly dwellers in the next life.Aminai, Aminai, in view of the bloody intercession of our generations, allow it.For the pleas of our sacrificed Master, grant our pleas. However, among believers all over the world, there is one big problem in common: how do people approach the Lord. In Jewish mysticism, Catholicism, and Islamic Sufi (mysticism) sects, the existence of "saints" has been proposed as an intermediary between humans and the Lord.The most famous saints and saint legends are, of course, Christianity and the Bible.However, the saints in Islam—because they are often real people and real things, especially those who sacrificed their lives—have shocked and moved the people, which is very eye-catching.Zheherenye more clearly combined the saints with the suffering people in the barren frontiers of China, so that every poor man in rags could know the saints—the teacher himself, and they all followed him directly to maintain the human spiritual world.This, the touch given to people like me, will never be wiped out. For several years in a row, I have not missed him for a moment in my heart.He was so much like the ragged peasant I'd grown used to.I was struck by a sense of intimacy.In my form, I have been trying to find a true humanitarianism.I have had enough of the hardships of pursuing ideals in Chinese culture.However, the people of Zheherenye in the northwest have not only tasted hardships but also shed blood. This makes me ecstatic, and I admit them willingly. However, they follow a person. I set my sights on him. People followed him unswervingly.Over the years I have been able to testify that hundreds of thousands of Jekhrenya's compatriots, whom they affectionately call Dosdani, are ready to die every moment for him. I picture him. This person's name is Ma Mingxin.In the world I describe, you can no longer find a name that is more famous than these three universes.Moreover, the resounding name of this name lies in the fact that it only roars in the hearts of hundreds of thousands of people, rather than being spoken by people.Ma Mingxin's three yus were shunned by the simple people because of their extreme reverence—no one called them by this name. He was like a gigantic rock statue that had been battered and lost its details.I just think of him as a rocky pinnacle standing in the middle of the strong rocky forest of my beloved Jehrenya.He is like a stone tablet on the boundless loess plateau, with traces of wind and rain engraved on his body. The Loess Plateau of belief has the only explanation and explanation because of him.This vast and thousands of miles of rolling yellow waves that can only make people feel hopeless, because he stood upright, he gained direction. Of course, this is the ratification of him by later generations. He started from childhood. He was nine years old then. He is an orphan. Living in this world, born in such a family, Dunya (the social world outside the human world and the world of belief) There is no hope for him. Ma Mingxin's childhood was undoubtedly just suffering.The people of Zheherenya have no memory of the teacher's childhood because they all have exactly one form of childhood.Indifference to pain is the characteristic of Daxibei, and indifference to bloodshed is the characteristic of Zhehe Renye.He is a rock, and the image of this rock is fuzzy; thanks to the Almighty Lord, a great writer appeared among Zhehe Renye later, named Abdul Gadir, known as Guan Li Ye (ancestral home of Guan Li Feng) Xiang, Gangu, and Fuqiang areas).Guan Liye used Arabic and Persian to create a new form of Chinese literature—the first is secret, not spreading or using Chinese that outsiders can read; the second is prose with mysticism.This great book left by Lord Guan Li is the one I admire the most. The title of the book is "Reshhar", which means "the oozing dew". My younger brother, Yang Wanbao, is a young man from the family of Imam Zheherenye;He is the best manla (jing student) among the Hui people in China that I know.Writing this work for me, and also for his own feelings for Zhehe Renye, he and his classmate Ma Xuekai have just finished translating the secret "Reshhar". Guan Liye's "Reshhar" is introduced to you along with my works, readers.I hope you will cherish it; because Zhehe Renye has never dared to trust.The book was written more than a hundred years ago, and Zhagrenya originally intended to refuse to read it forever. Of course, the word "Ma Mingxin" is not called in "Reshhar".Generally use his missionary name "Viga Ye Tunla", which means "defender of the main way".The writing is mostly called "Wali" and "Shah", which means "elder" and "saint"; sometimes it is called "Mullah", which means "guide" and "saint".Or simply called "Grandfather".I hope my non-Hui friends will get used to all this. The dew that seeps out when the sea tides——"Reshhar" records the road of Ma Mingxin (for the convenience of writing, this book uses this name).This road is to get rid of the hopeless Northwest China and go to the Arab world, the hometown of truth that the Hui people say. Reshhar, translated by Yang Wanbao and others, tells the story of Ma Mingxin’s journey to a foreign country when he was nine years old: Muhammad Abdul, the son of Vigayah Tunla (may Allah purify his heart) La said that he had heard his father say this before: "We were originally named Ma in Jiezhou (now Wudu). Later, we moved to Gongchangfu (now Longxi). There, some of our relatives lived in the inner city. The government camp, part of it is here. Then it moved to Hezhou City and lived in Daxiguan. After my grandmother passed away, my grandfather’s younger brother, who is called the second master, led his lonely nine-year-old father to pilgrimage. Abandoned him The third brother and two children. The two of them left their hometowns. After experiencing the hardships and dangers of the journey, they walked towards the land of thorns and the deserted Yunnan Road. They entered the unspoken Awa country and crossed the nine raging Tigris Rivers. One day, When they searched for water and firewood, and wanted to cook some food, the wind blew up. Dust and sand filled the air, and darkness fell in front of them. The sun was invisible, and the disaster drove away Jiqing. Weigaye Tunla couldn’t see his uncle, crying, But his uncle was nowhere to be seen. He was alone in astonishment and lost his way that morning. How longing to see his uncle, how sad. The seedlings of extravagant hope cannot bear fruit.The moon is not visible on the night of fasting.I hope—there is wisdom hidden in the strangeness of separation. Farewell to the uncle and nephew. In this way, a poor Chinese boy named Ma Mingxin embarked on a long journey that cannot be investigated or imagined, and he does not even know the end, but only believes that there is a way out and truth.This man later conquered a group of the strongest and toughest Chinese. In the 203rd year after his death, I suddenly bumped into his image-I still recall the feeling when my heart was conquered by him. No one dared to speculate on Ma Mingxin back then.Later, the great folk writer Guan Liye finally plucked up the courage to describe this pioneering mentor. I guess Guan Liye must have felt a strange feeling in his heart and had a spiritual connection with him. This kind of erratic mutual understanding like a pulse has also been in Shagou, and later in the shipyard on the Songhua River, in the Beidaqu in Yanqi, Xinjiang, in Guanchuan Cave Dwelling in Huining, Gansu, and in Honglefu in the Yellow River irrigation area— — brushed my heart lightly several times.I have always longed intensely to meet him in person.From the eyebrows and appearance of each of his descendants, I silently guess the taste.I can't imagine his teenage years - he commanded half of the Northwest, commanding the real outlaws of Northwest China.Who could have imagined him at the age of nine?Who can imagine that child in the Middle East, step by step in the Arabian desert? ——This is the beginning of the saint's story of Jeherenye. He followed his uncle and wanted to go to the West to find a way out.He has crossed "nine rivers like the Tigris".He fainted from thirst in the desert, and hallucinated a beautiful woman holding a water bowl.During the long journey, he lost his uncle and was left alone.In the great desert, he finally expected a miracle: an old man gave him a bunch of grapes to eat, and led him into the Yemen Taoist temple.There was an Islamic Sufi missionary. He lived there and often sat in meditation for hundreds of days, learning for more than ten years at a time.He quietly approached the gate of his contract.The forty black goats he grazed, the Arabic he used to speak, the hunger he endured, and the round stones he picked up are all gone. Fifteen years later, he turned twenty-five.He was ordered by his Yemeni teacher (the people who are illiterate and do not read geography to call him "Yemeni Grandpa") to return to China to preach. Vigaye Tunla Ma Mingxin returned to Gansu, and he never left here since that year.Over the past few years, I have been traveling on the Loess Plateau, and I always feel that I can find him again.I saw a strange and fresh road, and his distant back was always swaying in front of my eyes.In fact, his realm has surpassed the Hui people in China, and even surpassed any fundamental religion.But the intoxication made the Muslims miss him obsessively; that kind of sincerity made me linger.I wrote poetry because I was too strongly stimulated by the Zhehe Renye peasants—I also began to be like the peasants, and I didn't have the heart to explain the reasons for being so intoxicated and moved. ——The reasons will be explained soon one by one. Ten years before Qianlong, Ma Mingxin returned home.Zheherenye, the spirit of the lowly untouchables who want to fight for spiritual freedom, suddenly entered the barren Gansu. The Muslims in the Northwest, who were hopelessly dismissing the sun and the moon, were like dry firewood meeting a flame, and violently set off a fever of seeking truth—in the words of the peasants, it was "another monarch, another lifelong, all painstaking efforts, It’s all on the sect.”Sufism (that is, Islamic mysticism) is strong, out-of-the-way, sincere, and simple, and it is inconceivable that it is closely related to the customs and customs of the Northwest. Almost in the first moment, the Northwest transformed it into a heart shield for the people at the bottom. Cultural inequality and invisible oppression were overthrown in one day: the superficial Chinese intellectuals could not understand Arabic-Persian;The ragged, hungry, and low-class suffering people have ideological weapons. They are not the same as they were last night this morning. Shah, Mullah, Mullshid—these words can all be translated as mentors, all can be translated as guides.The man came, he was born.The path to the destination is cleared, the bridge close to Allah is built, the hopeless present life and the garden-like future life are clear, and the principles of heaven and humanity come before us.Aminai, please allow me.Duwaer (prayer) was fulfilled, and the one who rescued us came.The tormenting present world is about to collapse, the great time is about to be established, and saints are born. Between the eighth and tenth years of Qianlong, when the person who grew up in the remote and mysterious "Yemen Daotang" set foot on the hard loess mountain road in Gansu, on the empty and desolate loess plateau, he had a tough temperament. And the Muslims who have no way out have already prepared everything including their lives. Chapter 04 Religion of the Poor There was a man named Ma Mian Manla, who joined the missionary Ma Mingxin who had just returned to China.He is famous for being poor.Enduring hunger and cold day by day.Pockmarked Manla has a cousin who is a poor imam.Seeing the plight of his relatives, the man said to Manla with a pockmarked face, "Lord, I have never seen anyone poorer than you! There is Dosdanido in Fuqiang, come with me to Fuqiang." When he arrived at Fuqiang, the local Hui people sighed and gave him clothes, shoes and money.After getting Shi San, Pockmarked Manla came back happily.When he asked to see his mentor Ma Mingxin, he was turned away. Pockmarked and begged in panic, Ma Mingxin saw him after pestering him for a long time.In the first sentence, the tutor asked: "Where do these things of yours come from?" Pockmarked Manla said, "It was given by Dosdanisan of Fuqiang." Ma Mingxin said: "You are using our sect to ask for property. You have traveled far away, only thinking about property! Go and return everything to others." With a pockmarked face, Manla took off his clothes, was shirtless, and was ashamed. Ma Mingxin said: "If Allah didn't tell people to cover up their shame, I'll tell you to take off your pants too. You can go, and don't come into the door of our Jehrenya again." The pockmarked face burst into tears.The disciples and the people also interceded for him one after another.Everyone said, forgive him, this is the fault we all have.Ma Mingxin kept him in the end, and said to everyone: "From now on, no one is allowed to walk away for Shi San!" At this entrance, I was suddenly and firmly attracted.Poor people, this is a word that will never die in China.The hazy memory of poverty, the devastation of the world of wandering, the rags of every household and village——I have been looking for it all the time.I paranoidly insist that everything in China should remember the poor and the poor people.For me, such stories are extremely important—there was a peasant family living in the corner of the village with only half a rotten mat and kang.In the past, he never went to the temple to worship. He avoided his neighbors and relatives, and avoided all Muslim festivals.Whenever it comes to the anniversary of his parents' death, he always excuses himself to go out and leave the village.In order to mourn their relatives and fulfill the obligations of believers—they all have their own Ermali (doing, gathering and reading the scripture "Mandan Yehe")—but he is alone, and there is no one in the courtyard. Chicken, there is no fine grain in the tank.Those who are extremely poor not only cannot read books, but also cannot believe in religion.He sat sluggishly on the high barren hillside, living through the days that he dared not face up to. Ma Mingxin came and brought Zheherenye. He listened dubiously. There are discussions in every corner of the village-this old man is teaching the teachings of the poor!Really don't want Haitiye (Shi San), really! In the village, the melodious and wonderful sound of "Mandan Yehe" can be heard from people's mud huts every day.People who have worked in Ermai have rosy faces full of satisfaction and joy, and they are full of energy when they go up the mountain to suffer.His heart skipped a beat. In the middle of the night, tossing and turning on the dead bed, he cried. He thought of his father who was killed by the government, and his mother who starved to death on this kang, crying miserably alone. A few days later, he plucked up his courage and invited the young mysterious Haji (who had been to Mecca for pilgrimage).Ma Mingxin nodded and set a date. The visitors formed a circle and kneeled solemnly on the kang.Everyone has done ghusl, and everyone is a famous imam.The melodious recitation began, with a wonderful tone that was said to come from "Yemen".He listened obsessively.Time is marching. Faith and filial piety are practiced. Moist comfort seeped into the dry heart. He stood up and walked out of the half-collapsed yellow mud hut.A chicken he borrowed from a neighbor was tethered in the yard.He also borrowed two bowls of white noodles from a big thick bowl, preparing to cook for those who had just finished reading.The meal after Ermeri is communion—that is the least that can be expended. Ma Mingxin stopped him. There was a jujube tree in the yard, and Ma Mingxin ordered him to shake down the jujube.A few dates, arranged one by one on the plate.Ma Mingxin said that Zheherenye's communion was this fruit plate.Poor people don’t have to slaughter chickens or sheep for their beliefs, as long as they remember to remind Allah when placing fruit plates.What Ermeri relies on is not economic strength, but sincere ideas. On the broken half-brown mat, the chanting people solemnly picked up the dates and ate them, and then laughed. He cried. The Zhehe Renye brought to China by Ma Mingxin is a religion for the poor.Daxibei didn't expect it, it was so excited that it didn't know what to say, so it fell silent in excitement.Outsiders did not see joy from this silence before, and they do not see nostalgia from this silence today. In any part of Ermai, in any province, people are busy setting out fruit plates.How many times I've seen this fruit dish halfway up the North beyond count.People put it solemnly—now all kinds of dried and fresh fruits can be put in it; but people are still so bad at telling. “这果碟子，是咱们哲合忍耶最尊贵的东西”——他们说。这是穷人的圣餐，我心里补充说。 关于马明心为穷人办教的美好传说，多少年来一直在哲合忍耶内外流传。传说他为教民干尔麦里，教民奉赠的乜贴（宗教举意、费用），他一律转手散给穷人。甚至在斋月里人送来两块白面饼，他也随手散给乞丐。为人送葬，相传他只取几十个麻钱；人人皆知哲合忍耶不是为了布施。他住旧窑，住泥屋，家里没有一头毛驴——他的妻子以一生推杵磨面而闻名。他有一件妻子手织的毛衫，后来进监狱时，他就穿着这件衣裳上路，直至牺牲。 这是一件羊毛织的衣衫。起源于中西亚的伊斯兰神秘主义叫做苏菲主义。苏菲，意即羊毛衫。古代那些神秘的行吟诗人、修炼者、追求着爱主接近主的私人体验的隐士，都穿一件羊毛衫袍。 马明心有两位夫人。一位是不孕的撒拉族夫人，一位是通渭草芽沟的张夫人。不清楚是哪一位女人为他织了这件羊毛衫褂。官军后来血洗关川，抄马明心的家时，寒窑中一贫如洗，院里一盘磨、半窖水。撒拉族夫人为丈夫自杀在窑外。张夫人被五花大绑押走充军。官军刨地三尺，翻了又翻，一共发现了半串小麻钱。 从甘肃到宁夏，老人们着重指点我说：“那半串麻钱有个来历。不是铜元，是小麻钱。 家里穷得掀不开锅盖了，哪位夫人就包上了羊毛衫袍，走了郭城驿。有一家当铺开在郭城驿街上，夫人给掌柜的说：当件衣裳。郭城驿开当铺的掌柜接下一打开，只觉得，光芒闪闪；满屋香气。掌柜的心里暗暗知道了。他取来一串麻钱，两手恭敬托着：“这串钱，算是我给自家求饶恕。衣裳不敢留，您快快包起来！'这就是那半串小麻钱的来历。花费了半串，剩下的半串子公家抄上走了。” ——老人们说完又沉默了。 他们能讲清马明心家里一文钱一粒米。 深邃的哲学进入了泥屋窑洞。心灵获得的平衡，使风景柔和了，使痛苦轻缓了。饥饿的穷人一天天在精神上富有起来，马明心这个名字迅速地传向全中国。 绝望者、念经人、大都市里的精神干渴的人、追求正道的青年、想献身追随圣徒的勇士，——都背上了一种木头背筴，踏上了奔向甘肃的道路，寻找马明心。 哲合忍耶在迅猛传播。 但官府和俗界并不知道。 那是一个追求的年代。背着背筴的人离开家乡，形影不离地追随着认定的导师。这是今天已经湮灭了的一种生活方式。追求者们陶醉于这种生活——他们要接近“主”，要封斋礼拜并且秘密地从事修炼。要在僻静山洞里坐静，要把灾年里仅有的食物散给乞丐。他们的女人要含辛茹苦，推磨扶犁。男人被捕就探监或被流放，丈夫若牺牲就献出儿子。 渐渐地，哲合忍耶的隐形世界被建立了起来，虽然外人并不知道。 半个甘肃、南北宁夏、一角青海和陕西，甚至山东、河北、江苏、云南，都有人奔向马明心求道。 ——那是逝去的十八世纪。那时的中国确实曾出现过一场旋风般的理想追求运动。穷人回民是那次追求的主角，很多有知识的学者也在行列中。 追随着马明心的一些有志之士，形成了哲合忍耶的核心。他们不是一般满拉（经学生、内地称海里凡），他们是圣徒的门客。他们对家庭似舍似系，生活目的是追随导师。 导师叫“穆勒什德”，他们叫做“穆勒提”——这是一种今天罕见的、不问前途不论安危、随时准备赴汤蹈火的、以宗教圣徒为修身目标的追随者。 维尕叶·屯拉·马明心的弟子们不仅仅是些礼拜的阿訇。他们在荒野里、窑洞破屋里、劳苦的庄稼活计里、“脱勒盖提”（秘密修炼）里迎送岁月，认识真理。我在钞本中读到——“他们都去山里打柴，他们浑身褴褛。但富贵不能诱惑他们；他们在饥饿寒冷的考验中守着人道”。 由于贫穷的本色，哲合忍耶干脆以素为贵，他们没有雕梁画柱的清真寺，而且反对素色之外的彩画。直至今天，你看不见它有豪华大寺。 这里是真理的辩论场。见解和认识在尖锐地较量。 维尕叶·屯拉·马明心时时显露本色。单凭对穷苦农民的感情和关注，是不可能掌握穷苦农民集团的。信仰不是迷信。敢于在中国树立起一面旗子，就要有支撑它的能力。 大西北是回族密集之地。兰州、西安、西宁、河州，还有一些著名村镇，都是回族能人的潜伏之地。 关里爷记载了一个马明心早期的故事：相传：我们伟大的毛拉·沙赫·维尕叶·屯拉起初住在皋兰县。有一个人称“胎里会（念经）”的人，是五阿訇之子——请毛拉吃饭。“胎里会”心中不服。为了考验毛拉，他跟在毛拉背后，不带路，不指路。但是，不用指点，毛拉径直走到胎里会家。坐定在上房里以后，毛拉问：阿訇，知识的终点是什么？ 胎里会无法回答。毛拉又问：伊斯兰的终点是什么？ 胎里会忙向毛拉说色俩目，他对毛拉深深敬佩了。毛拉说：“知识的终点，是主的认知；伊斯兰的终点，那是无计无力！” 我坚信：一切哲学，都会被这句话震动。 还有——伊斯兰教每天有五次礼拜；每一次中数拜里有一些拜属于天命，另一些属于副功。几百年来，因中有一句话，提到了“正中的拜”——因此，诠释家和好道者就对这一句“正中之拜”众说纷纭。 关里爷的《热什哈尔》记道：相传：有一天，毛拉维尕叶·屯拉问阿訇们：“真主在古兰经中说：”你们应该坚持礼拜，坚持正中的拜功……'这正中的拜功是什么呢？ “阿訇无言可对。毛拉说——”正中之拜，就是川流不息的天命！ " 天命的拜数、礼拜的次数——马明心都没有讲。他讲的只是：天命，这种人证明自己是有灵魂和信仰的最低形式，对人的生命过程如一道川流不息、迎面而来的长流水。这极其深刻。这种见识早超越了伊斯兰教，而与各大一神教的基点完全一致。中国回民除此再没有过更深刻的神学认识，这是一种关于人的重要观点。 在西北荒凉的人间，绝望的穷苦农民又有了希望。一个看不见的组织，一座无形的铁打城池，已经出现在他们之中。穷人的心都好像游离出了受苦的肉体，寄放在、被保护在那座铁打的城中。 人间依旧。黄土高原依然是千沟万壑灼人眼瞳的肃杀。日子还是糠菜半年饥饿半年天旱了便毫无办法。但是穷人的心有掩护了，底层民众有了哲合忍耶。 穷人的心，变得尊严了。 第05章仪礼 最简单地说，哲合忍耶就是在晨礼之后用响亮的高声赞颂来念即克尔——念辞。 晨礼中哲合忍耶的即克尔中，有一处是激烈地否定和肯定。念时全体都随着节奏，否定时摇头向右，肯定时把头向左指向心灵。 否定时念“俩依俩罕”——万物非主。 肯定时念“印安拉乎”——只有真主。 念得激烈时，礼拜者在响亮的齐诵中如醉如痴。寺里灯已熄掉，正中只有香点燃的红亮。在这高声赞诵之中，黎明正庄严诞生。这一段时间确实庄严而神秘。人们聚在一起这样迎来生命的又一天，如同坚守着城池的战士。 这座坚城、这些高声赞颂的人，是有形象的——它就是“打依尔”。 打依尔，是即一个围坐的圈子。中间是矮桌，用专门的布单或毯子罩盖着。清晨这桌上燃着香；夜晚的虎夫坦拜后，念五页《穆罕麦斯》时这桌上摊开着《穆罕麦斯》。打依尔上的人隔桌围跪，两端各横跪一人。另外，在干办悼念、修养的功课（尔麦里）时，也有这种圈子。打依尔所用的物品是绝对神圣的；打依尔上的氛围不仅肃穆而且严峻。阿訇们若是为上打依尔而沐浴，洗罢直至跪上打依尔不再出声，——等仪式开始后他的初声是纯洁的经文。教众们若是在其它圣域范围里还存着一丝轻松随便，上了打依尔后他便如同铁铸判若再生。 这个每天都在半个中国忽聚忽散的、人数多少不等的圈子，是哲合忍耶领袖马明心赋予人们的一种神奇的形式。 与人的区别、高贵的自我、铁的组织、高声赞颂、孤独、强悍、神秘——哲合忍耶的一切，都尽在其中了。 如果人多，这个圈子可能很大：笔直的两排人相对跪齐；左右两端各打横跪一人，围成一个长方形圈子。人更多时，圈子后面一排排整齐地跪好，簇拥着圈子在前。 如果人少，几个人也分成前后两排，再有两人各守左右两端。即使只有两人一起礼晨拜，他们两人相对而跪，也组成一个打依尔。哲合忍耶对自己的“打依尔”感情很重；上打依尔，含有着某种加入、坚守、互相信赖的隐语；上打依尔，相当强烈地暗示着保卫信仰。 打依尔，是尔麦里的外貌。 哲合忍耶，就是成千上万人、有时是数万人簇拥着一个打依尔，举行各种各样的尔麦里。 在后来的战斗中、牺牲中、悼念的聚会中、集体的劳作中——人们看他们像一群杂乱无章的乡下农民，他们看自己像一个隐了外形的打依尔。 我偏僻地远在北京。 但我也真切地觉得自己在这打依尔上。 我在这尔麦里般的书写中，常常幻听着那动人的即克尔。原谅我往往写得激动或用力过度，因为我的耳边那声音响亮起来了。 在宁夏川、西海固，在陇东和陇南，在新疆和云南贵州，在大西北和星星点点散布半个中国的浩茫大陆上，哲合忍耶就像一个巨大无形的打依尔。 清晨，我听见——我的读者们，我希望你们也听见——在中国，有一种声音渐渐出现。 它变得清晰了，它愈来愈强。这是心灵的声音。它由悠扬古朴，逐渐变成一种痴情的激烈。 它反复地向着这难解的宇宙和人生质疑，又反复地相信和肯定。大约在晨曦出现时，大约在东方的鱼肚白色悄悄染上窗棂的时刻，那声音变成了响亮的宣誓。它震撼着时间的进程，斩钉截铁，威武悲怆。 除开即克尔外，马明心从也门带回的经典中，有五言的赞圣诗《穆罕麦斯》一种。每晚宵礼后，哲合忍耶以特定的四热（调子）念五段。这是一种强抒情的循环赞诗。《穆罕麦斯》给哲合忍耶带来一种特殊的神秘感情。原因有二：第一是此经的诵读永无止歇。哪怕遇上巨大灾难，如同治十年、一九五八年、文化大革命，如果念诵中断了，那么在恢复的那一晚，教众们要一晚晚、一年年推算，上溯到中止的那个晚上。然后再按照每晚五段的原则，推出今晚应念的段落，开始诵读。不必联络，不用任何组织手段——全国各地一切哲合忍耶教坊，在一天晚上所念的《穆罕麦斯》，都是相同的五段。决无差错。这又是简直不可思议。 第二个原因是《穆罕麦斯》的隐喻性。教内历史著作往往注明事件发生的当晚，念的《穆罕麦斯》是哪一段。往往有惊人的吻合——关于这个问题本书会有重要的举例。 这本赞诗极美。每晚念诵五节之后，懂得阿拉伯文的人便向群众讲解这些修饰外露的句子。情感——尤其是诗中的哀伤和想象滋润着人心。中国人不擅感情表露；但哲合忍耶却每晚都在用这种奇异的形式抒情。 清晨和夜晚——哲合忍耶的仪礼，基本上就是这样。这些仪礼是后来动人故事的框架。 神秘功修即“脱勒盖提”不易了解。从事这种功修的人，把它的内容视为自己——导师——真主之间的秘密，决不外传。 我作为一名晚来的、而且是从繁华向它倾倒的流浪汉，只能看到这种神秘主义宗教功课的一些表象。我只知道它是一些念辞，有严格的传授规定、念诵时间和遍数。我只知道从事“脱勒盖提”功干的人，都是具备完美的拜功及一般宗教实践的纯洁者。它的场所、它的典籍、它的用具包括用水，甚至不允许妻子儿女触碰。我只知道一些荒僻的山崖和洞穴，传说那里是从事这种功修的静室，也有一些静室是真的房间，但今天都被锁着，里面打扫得干干净净，却不许闯入。 但是，一般说来，感到自己内心需要进行脱勒盖提修磨、需要独自感悟和寻找和主相会的感受的人，一般都是在深夜或凌晨悄悄念一些特殊的词句。 我常常凝视着那些毫不透露他们功修内容的老人。他们的脸庞，常常使我抑制不住要描写这种脸庞和神情。那是一种铁一样的宁静，那是雷打不动的稳重。他们使我屏住呼吸，不敢放松分寸。但是那如谜如墨的铁色神情中，又藏着无限柔和和满足。他们不会透露，那是他们和造物的真主之间的秘密。他们独自享受了神秘瞬间的甜蜜，又回到了我们中间。似乎他们和人们毫无区别；只是有一种不可言说的美，轻合着他们的言谈举止，闪亮在他们的眉宇眼光之中。 你能摆脱这美的诱惑吗？ I can not. 在正统的中国文化中，这一切都不能想象。 对于正统的中国，它是异端。 但是，异端即美——这是人的规律。 导师马明心在哲合忍耶的《尼斯白提》（道谱）上，豪迈地在七位也门圣徒的名字后面写上了自己的名字。接着，他向着黄土高原和半个中国的穷苦回民发出宣言：你们听啊，天空中有我的位置，大地上有我的国土。我有骑乘，我有学堂，我看见翠绿世界。一切圣徒都是我的教下，一切学者都听我呼唤——我的话语里没有谎言！ 对于痛苦的心灵，这宣言有着不可遏止的力量。被压迫的人渴望着奔向这面大旗，冲出苦难的压迫。让心灵自由，让心灵痊愈，让心灵呼吸喘息，让心灵先去天国——舍了这受苦人的身子给这坑人的世道，让心沾一沾主的雨露吧。 这就是神秘主义。 这就是大西北的十八世纪。 中国对此一无所知。中国对心灵和心的灵性，从来是冷淡的。中国没有听见哲合忍耶在清晨的公开高诵。一个中国底层的新形式，一个令人难以置信的形式，形成了。 但是，中国不允许这种怪诞形式。苏菲神秘主义对于来世和造物主的挚爱和苦苦追求，实质上标志着对黑暗中国的控诉批判。这是一种最彻底的异端。让中国容忍着人民异端自由发展的假象，很快就要结束了。