Most people who post Rumi quotes on Instagram have no idea that the "Sultan of Poets" didn't just appear out of thin air. He was a product of a very specific, very intense household. If you’ve ever wondered who is Rumi’s dad, you’re looking for a man named Bahauddin Walad. He wasn't just a father; he was a powerhouse. A mystic. A man so influential in his own right that people called him the "Sultan of Scholars."
Think about that for a second.
Living in the shadow of a guy nicknamed the Sultan of Scholars sounds exhausting, honestly. But for Jalal al-Din Muhammad Rumi, it was the foundation of everything. Bahauddin Walad was born around 1148 in Balkh, which is modern-day Afghanistan. Back then, Balkh was a massive hub of culture and religion, but Bahauddin didn't exactly play it safe. He was a radical. He didn't just teach dry theology; he taught a visceral, emotional connection to the divine.
Why Bahauddin Walad was more than just a footnote
It’s easy to dismiss the parents of famous historical figures as background characters. We do it all the time. But Bahauddin was a massive celebrity in the 13th-century Islamic world. To understand Rumi, you have to understand that his father was already doing the "spiritual revolutionary" thing long before Rumi met Shams of Tabriz.
Bahauddin kept a private journal. It’s called the Ma'arif. If you read it today, it feels surprisingly modern, almost like a stream-of-consciousness meditation. He wrote about the physical sensation of God’s presence. He wrote about the beauty of the world. He also wrote about his dreams and his very real fears. This wasn't some cold, distant academic. This was a man who felt everything. Rumi grew up in a house where the walls were basically soaked in this kind of intense, mystical energy.
Imagine your dad coming home and instead of talking about the weather, he starts describing a vision of the cosmos he had while drinking tea. That was Rumi's childhood.
🔗 Read more: Dr Dennis Gross C+ Collagen Brighten Firm Vitamin C Serum Explained (Simply)
The Great Escape: Why they left Balkh
There’s a lot of debate among historians about why Bahauddin packed up his family and left Balkh. The most common story is that he had a major falling out with the local ruler, the Khwarazmshah. Apparently, Bahauddin’s popularity was making the King nervous. Political jealousy is a tale as old as time.
However, some scholars, like the late Franklin Lewis—who wrote what is basically the definitive biography of Rumi—suggest it might have been simpler and scarier. The Mongols were coming. Genghis Khan was sweeping across Central Asia, and anyone with half a brain knew that Balkh was on the hit list.
Bahauddin took his family, including a young Rumi, and started a years-long trek across the Middle East. They went through Baghdad. They went to Mecca for pilgrimage. They stayed in Damascus. Finally, they ended up in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey), specifically in the city of Konya. This migration wasn't just a road trip; it was a survival mission that shaped Rumi's entire worldview. He saw the world falling apart, but he saw his father remain a rock of spiritual certainty.
A legacy of teaching
When they finally settled in Konya, the local Seljuk Sultan was basically a fanboy. He gave Bahauddin a prestigious teaching position. Bahauddin became the head of a major madrasa (school).
When Bahauddin died in 1231, Rumi was about 24 years old. The transition of power was immediate. Rumi didn't just inherit his father's books; he inherited his father's students. He took over the chair. For the next decade, Rumi worked tirelessly to be the scholar his father was. He was "Rumi's dad's son" for a long time before he became the "Rumi" we know today.
💡 You might also like: Double Sided Ribbon Satin: Why the Pro Crafters Always Reach for the Good Stuff
The Ma'arif: A father's secret influence
If you look at Rumi's later poetry, the Masnavi, you can see echoes of his father's journal. Bahauddin had this way of using everyday metaphors to explain the infinite. He’d talk about a piece of bread or a drop of water to explain the soul.
Rumi did the exact same thing.
Most people think Shams of Tabriz was the only influence on Rumi's life. Shams was the catalyst, sure. He was the lightning bolt. But Bahauddin was the ground. He provided the vocabulary and the spiritual framework that allowed Shams's influence to actually take root. Without Bahauddin's groundwork, Rumi might have just been another bored academic who got weirded out by a wandering dervish. Instead, he was ready.
Realities of their relationship
It wasn't all sunshine and mystical visions. Being the son of a "Sultan of Scholars" carries a heavy weight. Rumi spent years after his father's death traveling to Aleppo and Damascus to deepen his legal and theological studies. He felt he had to earn the right to sit in his father's seat.
There’s a certain human tension there.
📖 Related: Dining room layout ideas that actually work for real life
How do you find your own voice when your father’s voice is considered the gold standard of wisdom? Rumi eventually found it, but it took the death of his father and then the disappearance of his best friend to crack him open.
What we get wrong about Rumi's family
People often picture Rumi as this lone wolf of spirituality. That's just wrong. He came from a long line of preachers and jurists. Bahauddin's own father and grandfather were also prominent religious figures.
This was a dynasty.
- Fact: Bahauddin wasn't just a "Sufi." He was a master of Sharia (Islamic law).
- Fact: He was known for being incredibly stubborn when it came to his principles.
- Observation: The family wasn't poor. They were influential elites who had the ear of kings.
When you ask who is Rumi's dad, you're asking about the man who gave Rumi his social standing and his intellectual tools. Bahauddin was a bridge between the old world of rigid scholarship and the new world of ecstatic love.
Practical takeaways from Bahauddin's life
If you want to apply the "Bahauddin Walad method" to your own life or understanding of history, keep these things in mind:
- Environment is everything. Rumi didn't become a poet in a vacuum. He was surrounded by deep thought from birth. If you want to cultivate a certain trait in yourself, you have to curate your surroundings.
- Read the Ma'arif. If you can find a translation (A.J. Arberry did a classic one), read it. It’s wilder than you think. It shows that 800 years ago, people were struggling with the same existential questions we have now.
- Acknowledge the roots. Stop looking at Rumi's quotes in isolation. Look at the lineage. Understanding Bahauddin makes Rumi’s work feel more grounded and less like "live, laugh, love" fluff.
- The power of the journal. Bahauddin's habit of writing down his inner thoughts preserved his legacy and guided his son. There's a real lesson there about the value of recording your own inner life, even if you think nobody will ever read it.
Bahauddin Walad died in Konya, and his tomb is still there today, right next to his son’s. Even in death, they are inseparable. He was the man who taught Rumi how to look at a tree and see the divine. He was the one who taught him that truth is worth more than a king's favor. So, next time you read a Rumi poem, remember the "Sultan of Scholars" who paved the way through the dust and the danger of the 13th century. He was the quiet engine behind the greatest poet in history.
To truly understand this lineage, your next step should be looking into the Ma'arif specifically. It’s the closest you’ll get to hearing the actual voice of the man who raised a legend. You can find excerpts in various scholarly collections of Rumi's early life. It’s worth the effort to see where the fire started.