The story of the Shams begins not in darkness, but in dazzling light. Its author, Ahmad al-Buni (d. 1225 CE), was a respected Algerian Sufi mathematician and philosopher. Al-Buni lived in an age when the boundaries between astronomy, numerology, geometry, and spirituality were fluid. He was fascinated by a core Islamic belief: that God’s creation is woven from His Names — the 99 attributes like The Merciful, The King, The Light.
Inside, wrapped in frayed silk, lay a single leather-bound manuscript. Its title, embossed in faded gold, read: Shams al-Ma‘arif wa Lata’if al-‘Awarif — the sun of knowledge (shams al-ma'arif) pdf
Al-Buni had ventured into ‘ilm al-huroof (the science of letters) and ‘ilm al-awfaq (the science of magical squares). He detailed how to summon spiritual entities—not angels, but mardat al-jinn (rebellious jinn) — by combining divine names in incorrect, forceful orders. One recipe read: “Write the isolated letters ‘Tā, Hā, Shīn’ on a shard of unbaked clay. Bury it at a crossroads under a waning moon. Recite the 72nd Name 41 times. A servant of the wind will appear. Do not blink.” This was not theology. It was theurgy—attempting to compel the unseen world. Mainstream Islam condemns this as shirk (associating partners with God), because it treats divine names as mere tools of power rather than objects of worship. The story of the Shams begins not in
Yet the book’s power as a cultural artifact is undeniable. For every scholar who burned a copy, three magicians secretly copied it by hand. In Ottoman Istanbul, sultans kept annotated Shams manuscripts under lock in their private libraries. In South Asia, syncretic Sufi orders adapted its tables into their own rituals. Even today, in parts of North Africa, a worn copy of Shams al-Ma‘arif is considered more valuable than gold—and more dangerous than poison. Al-Buni lived in an age when the boundaries
But part two is what gave the book its second, longer shadow.