Annemarie Schimmel - A Bridge Between East and West Through Sufism

I had always heard much about Annemarie Schimmel, the great German scholar of Islam and Sufism. For a long time, I carried in my heart the wish to visit her grave in Bonn’s Poppelsdorfer Friedhoff, which is only about two hours away from Mönchengladbach, where I currently live. What fascinated me most was how she dedicated her entire life to understanding, interpreting, and conveying the message of Islam and Sufism to the world.

Schimmel was no ordinary scholar. She was a linguistic genius, mastering almost fifteen languages, including Arabic, Persian, Urdu and Turkish. Her deep knowledge of Islamic mysticism (Tasawwuf) allowed her to translate the profound poetry of great masters like Hafiz, Rumi and Jami making them accessible to Western readers. She became especially well known for translating the works of Allama Iqbal into German, opening up Iqbal’s philosophy to Europe in a way no one else had done before. Among her many publications, two stand out as milestones in Islamic studies: “Gabriel’s Wing: A Study into the Religious Ideas of Sir Muhammad Iqbal” and “Mystical Dimensions of Islam” both regarded as classics.

Her life was devoted to studying Islam, exploring its spiritual dimensions, and explaining the inner meaning of the writings of mystics. In 1967, she was appointed Professor of Indo-Muslim Culture at Harvard University, where she taught for 25 years until her retirement in 1992, after which she returned to Germany.

Among her contributions, one that touched me personally is her writing about Hazrat Banda Nawaz Gesu Daraz - lovingly called Khwaja-e-Deccan - in her masterpiece “Mystical Dimensions of Islam.” Coming myself from Hyderabad the Deccan region, I felt a special closeness reading her words about this great saint, who migrated from Delhi to Gulbarga and became the guiding light of Sufism in the South.

Schimmel explained how Hazrat Gesu Daraz, a disciple in the chain of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya and Chiragh-e-Dehli, was not only a saint but also a prolific writer in Arabic, Persian and even Dakni - the southern form of Urdu. He wrote works like Miraj-ul-Aashiqeen to guide the masses and was among the very first to bring Ibn Arabi’s philosophy and Suhrawardi’s teachings into the Indian context. Through his commentaries and poetry, he made the deepest layers of Sufism accessible to the people of the Subcontinent. For me, it was moving to see how Schimmel, a scholar from west, honored Hazrat Banda Nawaz with such depth and respect.

One of the most touching stories she shared in an interview was about how faith manifests in the daily life of a Muslim. She replied:

“I cannot speak for all Muslims, but I know that a believer absolutely trusts in what God wills and accepts things as they come, knowing that everything is in the best hands.”

She then told a personal story from Turkey, where she had a dear friend in Konya, a carpenter and devotee of Jalaluddin Rumi. His mother had borne ten sons, eight of whom died in childhood. The eldest passed away while Schimmel was there, and the youngest, Ismail, longed to go to Germany to perfect his craft. Though Schimmel discouraged him, he eventually traveled there- but within three months, he tragically died.

When Schimmel returned to Konya weeks later to console his grieving mother, she was struck by the woman’s faith. Instead of lamenting, the mother told her:

“My dear child, do not be sad. Ismail always wanted to be your guest. Now he has become your eternal guest.”

Schimmel described this as the moment she truly understood what Islam and faith meant - absolute trust in the wisdom of God.

Her legacy is not only in her writings and translations, but also in the humility with which she lived and the bridges she built between cultures. She helped countless people in the West understand the heart of Islam beyond stereotypes - through its poetry, spirituality, and love for God.

On her grave in Bonn is inscribed a famous saying attributed to Hazrat Maula Ali:

“People are asleep. When they die, they wake up.”

This quote perfectly reflects her life and work. For Annemarie Schimmel, death was not an end but a continuation of her eternal journey toward truth, love, and divine wisdom.

Standing at her grave, I felt deeply inspired by the weight of her life’s mission and how someone born in the west became one of the most profound voices of Islamic spirituality in the modern world.

I had always heard much about Annemarie Schimmel, the great German scholar of Islam and Sufism. For a long time, I carried in my heart the wish to visit her grave in Bonn’s Poppelsdorfer Friedhoff, which is only about two hours away from Mönchengladbach, where I currently live. What fascinated me most was how she dedicated her entire life to understanding, interpreting, and conveying the message of Islam and Sufism to the world.

Schimmel was no ordinary scholar. She was a linguistic genius, mastering almost fifteen languages, including Arabic, Persian, Urdu and Turkish. Her deep knowledge of Islamic mysticism (Tasawwuf) allowed her to translate the profound poetry of great masters like Hafiz, Rumi and Jami making them accessible to Western readers. She became especially well known for translating the works of Allama Iqbal into German, opening up Iqbal’s philosophy to Europe in a way no one else had done before. Among her many publications, two stand out as milestones in Islamic studies: “Gabriel’s Wing: A Study into the Religious Ideas of Sir Muhammad Iqbal” and “Mystical Dimensions of Islam” both regarded as classics.

Her life was devoted to studying Islam, exploring its spiritual dimensions, and explaining the inner meaning of the writings of mystics. In 1967, she was appointed Professor of Indo-Muslim Culture at Harvard University, where she taught for 25 years until her retirement in 1992, after which she returned to Germany.

Among her contributions, one that touched me personally is her writing about Hazrat Banda Nawaz Gesu Daraz - lovingly called Khwaja-e-Deccan - in her masterpiece “Mystical Dimensions of Islam.” Coming myself from Hyderabad the Deccan region, I felt a special closeness reading her words about this great saint, who migrated from Delhi to Gulbarga and became the guiding light of Sufism in the South.

Schimmel explained how Hazrat Gesu Daraz, a disciple in the chain of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya and Chiragh-e-Dehli, was not only a saint but also a prolific writer in Arabic, Persian and even Dakni - the southern form of Urdu. He wrote works like Miraj-ul-Aashiqeen to guide the masses and was among the very first to bring Ibn Arabi’s philosophy and Suhrawardi’s teachings into the Indian context. Through his commentaries and poetry, he made the deepest layers of Sufism accessible to the people of the Subcontinent. For me, it was moving to see how Schimmel, a scholar from west, honored Hazrat Banda Nawaz with such depth and respect.

One of the most touching stories she shared in an interview was about how faith manifests in the daily life of a Muslim. She replied:

“I cannot speak for all Muslims, but I know that a believer absolutely trusts in what God wills and accepts things as they come, knowing that everything is in the best hands.”

She then told a personal story from Turkey, where she had a dear friend in Konya, a carpenter and devotee of Jalaluddin Rumi. His mother had borne ten sons, eight of whom died in childhood. The eldest passed away while Schimmel was there, and the youngest, Ismail, longed to go to Germany to perfect his craft. Though Schimmel discouraged him, he eventually traveled there- but within three months, he tragically died.

When Schimmel returned to Konya weeks later to console his grieving mother, she was struck by the woman’s faith. Instead of lamenting, the mother told her:

“My dear child, do not be sad. Ismail always wanted to be your guest. Now he has become your eternal guest.”

Schimmel described this as the moment she truly understood what Islam and faith meant - absolute trust in the wisdom of God.

Her legacy is not only in her writings and translations, but also in the humility with which she lived and the bridges she built between cultures. She helped countless people in the West understand the heart of Islam beyond stereotypes - through its poetry, spirituality, and love for God.

On her grave in Bonn is inscribed a famous saying attributed to Hazrat Maula Ali:

“People are asleep. When they die, they wake up.”

This quote perfectly reflects her life and work. For Annemarie Schimmel, death was not an end but a continuation of her eternal journey toward truth, love, and divine wisdom.

Standing at her grave, I felt deeply inspired by the weight of her life’s mission and how someone born in the west became one of the most profound voices of Islamic spirituality in the modern world.