A History of the Muslim World to 1405: The Making of a Civilization

by Vernon O Egger

  Many Muslim intellectuals faced the same problems Augustine did. Some of them concluded that prophetic and philosophical knowledge are merely the allegorical and rational expressions of the same truth. Many of them believed that the apparent contradictions between scriptural and Neoplatonic views of creation, resurrection, and the personal soul could be reconciled when it was understood that the scriptural versions were allegorical expressions of more complicated philosophical truths. In the hands of Muslim philosophers and mystics, the Aristotelian-Neoplatonic synthesis became progressively more complex and sophisticated as they attempted to correct weaknesses and inconsistencies in earlier versions. Some of their problems stemmed from the basic incompatibility between Aristotle’s actual system and the Neoplatonic overlay, whereas others lay in the inconsistencies between Neoplatonism and the doctrines derived from the Qur’an and Hadith.

  Some of the translators in the Bayt al-Hikma made philosophical contributions of their own, but the first genuine philosopher to write in Arabic was al-Kindi (ca. 800–ca. 870), who gained the nickname “Philosopher of the Arabs.” Al-Kindi, impressed by the Theology of Aristotle, asserted that the truths revealed through the prophets were metaphysical knowledge, and that there was no contradiction between philosophy and revelation. Despite his protestations, the emergence of philosophy within the Islamic world during the first half of the ninth century provoked a bitter debate about the role of reason within religion, just as it did within Christianity in various periods. As a result, philosophy almost from its inception among the Muslims came under suspicion. With few exceptions, the advances in philosophy would henceforth take place among informal circles of scholars who knew that they were viewed with mistrust, and their work never became part of the institutions of formal education. Those who supported the use of unfettered reason adduced several Hadith to show that learning had been praised and encouraged by the Prophet—“Seek learning, though it be in China,” “The ink of scholars is worth more than the blood of martyrs,” and “The search for knowledge is obligatory for every Muslim” were but a few of many such sayings—but to no avail. Their work in “natural philosophy” and mathematics was encouraged for its practical value, but because their philosophical speculations risked challenging the literal interpretation of the Qur’an, many Muslims regarded them as heretics, if not apostates.

  Despite the handicaps under which the philosopher-scientists worked, the achievements of this group of scholars is nothing short of awe inspiring. As a result of their work, Arabic, which had been the language of revelation for the Muslims, now replaced Greek as the primary language of philosophical and scientific inquiry for the next several centuries. Numerous scholars made contributions that would be immortalized in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries when their works were translated into Latin. Here we will mention two of the most famous whose work dates from before the middle of the tenth century.

  Abu Bakr al-Razi (ca. 865–ca. 932), known as Rhazes to medieval Europeans, was born in the Iranian city of Rayy and became a physician and head of a hospital there; he later took over the administration of a hospital in Baghdad. He was probably the greatest medical mind of medieval Muslim history, and became well known in Europe because of his compendium of medicine from the Greek, Syriac, and Indian traditions, and for his treatise on small pox and measles. His treatises were not mere encyclopedias, but rather were infused with a vividness and freshness that resulted from his work as a practicing physician and his keen attention to the details of symptoms and stages of illnesses. Despite the universal respect for his medical contributions, he was widely hated for his philosophical ideas, such as his denial of the eternity of the soul and his rejection of the concept of revelation. He argued that because God had imparted reason to mankind, reason rather than revelation would purify the soul and release it from the chains of the body.

  Al-Farabi (ca. 878–ca. 950) was born in Transoxiana, probably of Turkic origin, but he grew up in Damascus. Al-Farabi studied in Baghdad under the great Nestorian and Jacobite logicians there, but soon surpassed them. Al-Farabi was not as extreme as al-Razi in his expression of the relationship of philosophy and revelation, but he made it clear that human reason, as utilized by philosophers, is superior to revelation. Ordinary people, however, cannot be expected to comprehend philosophical truth and so must be provided with the concrete and picturesque images by which religion expresses philosophical truths symbolically. Al-Farabi was the first major Muslim Neoplatonist, and subsequent Muslim philosophers used him as a touchstone to measure their own work.

  A major part of al-Farabi’s career, however, was devoted to the problem of the correct ordering of the state. As the authority of the Abbasid caliphate was collapsing in the tenth century, al-Farabi turned back to Plato’s Republic for inspiration, and argued that the ruler must embody the highest intellectual as well as practical virtues. Reflecting Hellenic values, al-Farabi considered the required qualifications of the ruler to include intelligence, love of knowledge, moderation in appetites, and the love of justice, among others. By implication, he suggested that the political problems of his century were due to the absence of philosophers in the government.

  The Development of an Islamic Theology

  As is the case in Judaism and Christianity, Islam stresses man’s obedient response to the sovereign Word of God. Within each tradition, sacred scriptures are the basis for doctrine, ritual, and pious behavior. As a result, great efforts have been made to preserve the integrity of the scriptures and to ascertain their full meaning. The adherents of all three religions have found, however, that the attempt to live a devout life based upon the guidance provided by the scriptures is beset with complications. Passages in the scriptures can be ambiguous, they can contradict each other (at least in their literal meaning), and they are not comprehensive (i.e., they fail to address every issue that a person will encounter in his or her life for which ethical, ritual, or doctrinal guidance is needed). In order to ascertain the will of God in such cases, pious scholars within each religion have utilized a variety of intellectual devices. They identify principal themes within the scriptures as a whole that clarify ambiguities or that harmonize apparent contradictions within specific passages, and they apply the principles found within the scriptures to specific situations confronted in everyday life.

  Within Christianity these attempts led to the development of systematic theology. Islamic theology, like its Jewish counterpart, never developed into the comprehensive field of study that Christian theology did. In part, the reason for that lay in the fact that Christianity developed doctrines that required considerable exploration in order to be comprehensible: original sin, the Trinity, the nature and person of Jesus, the meaning of the crucifixion and resurrection, etc. Islam and Judaism are more preoccupied with simply ascertaining God’s will through His law, and with following it. Muslims did develop a field of study, kalam, that is often translated theology. It has focused largely on analyzing the attributes of God and of His creation.

  The Reception of Rationalism

  The introduction of philosophical modes of thought into the Arabic cultural tradition had profound implications for the development of Islamic religious thought. In fact, although the developments in science and philosophy were the features of the intellectual achievement of the Muslims that caught the attention of medieval Europeans, Muslims first experienced the Greek impact in the field of theology well before the translation process in the Bayt al-Hikma made possible a philosophical tradition in Arabic. The pressures for the development of an Islamic theology came from disputes within the Umma and from forces impinging upon it from the outside world. Within decades of the Prophet’s death, urgent questions were presenting themselves to the community that needed to be addressed.

  The Muslims of Syria and Iraq found themselves among large communities of Jews and Christians who had been exploring questions such as free will for centuries. The discussion of these issues was shaped by the concepts and forms of argument
developed by the Greek tradition, in both its Hellenic and Hellenistic phases. These communities raised questions that Muslims initially found difficult to answer because of the rhetorical methods employed. Many of the questions with which all of the monotheistic religions of revelation are now familiar were first put into stark relief for Muslims at this time: Are humans autonomous rather than agents of God’s will? If we are not autonomous, how can God hold us responsible for our evil acts? Are we judged by our acts alone, or by our faith, or by a combination of them? If our acts matter, do they have to be motivated by good intention? Can we know the standards by which we are judged? If so, does that mean that God is compelled to act according to norms—such as justice—that limit His omnipotence, or can He act arbitrarily, unbound by standards which we might count upon? Can God be described by the attributes we use for human beings, such as just or loving? Is God all-powerful and all-knowing? If so, why does He permit evil?

  The evidence suggests that groups of Muslim scholars were employing certain Greek concepts and patterns of argument by the early eighth century, both to defend their religion against the polemics of non-Muslims and to explore theological questions for themselves. By the time of the reign of the Abbasid caliph Harun al-Rashid (r. 786–809) a well-organized group emerged that was identified by its friends and its enemies alike as the “partisans of dialectic.” These were the Mu‘tazilites, whom we have already seen locked in a struggle with Ahmad ibn Hanbal. Based in Basra and Baghdad, they were not the only actors in the discipline of Islamic theology, but they were the dominant group for several generations. Mu‘tazilism was the result of a desire to use Greek concepts and methods of argument in the defense of Islam. Most of its practitioners were not philosophers, although al-Kindi may be regarded as part of their circle. Characteristically, they relied upon analogy rather than upon the syllogism of the philosophers, and they were exclusively interested in exploring and defending religious topics. But the Mu‘tazilites did set out to demonstrate to non-Muslims that Islamic beliefs were in accord with reason, and they tried to defend reason against those Muslims who insisted on the sole efficacy of faith. They were the first group of Muslim thinkers to give a systematic, rational treatment of religious beliefs.

  The Mu‘tazilites were famous for their five basic principles, two of which provoked the most discussion. One was that of “justice,” which connoted for the Mu‘tazilites their doctrine of free will and responsibility. The Mu‘tazilites were convinced that they could vindicate the rationality of God’s ways. They argued that good and evil are not arbitrary concepts whose validity is rooted in the dictates of God, but rather are rational categories that can be established by the use of reason alone. Hence, if God does not establish ethical categories but is Himself bound by them, His actions are predictable. If He is indeed just, He cannot condemn a man who does good, nor excuse a sinner. If God is just, then He can punish only if man is responsible for acting in an evil way, and man can receive a reward only if he is capable of doing the good on his own power.

  The traditionalists, like Ibn Hanbal, instinctively felt that such a theology limited the power of God—either He is omnipotent or He is not. They could also point to verses in the Qur’an that supported the idea that God was ultimately responsible for evil as well as for good. Their position was that God determines what is right or wrong at any given time, so that His actions are both arbitrary and right. Hence, a man could live a righteous life and yet God could justifiably condemn him to hell. The traditionalists regarded the denial by the Mu‘tazilites of God’s right and power to do as He wills to be an affront to God’s majesty.

  The other Mu‘tazilite principle was called God’s “unity.” It was aimed at both the Manichaeans (dualists who believed that God cannot be responsible for the evil in this world) and the Muslims who interpreted literally the anthropomorphic descriptions of God that are found in the Qur’an. With regard to the latter, the question became whether to accept revelation literally or to use reason to interpret revelatory images. The anthropomorphic position was articulated by the jurist Malik ibn Anas with regard to the issue of God’s sitting upon the throne: The “sitting is known, whereas its mode is unknown. Belief in its truth is a duty, and its questioning a heresy.” The Mu‘tazilite approach to the problem betrays its philosophical underpinnings. To accept literally the attributes accorded to God in the Qur’an threatens God’s unity and simplicity, for to posit attributes of God (such as His power, knowledge, life, hearing, sight, or speech) distinct from his essence suggests a plurality of eternal entities. The Mu‘tazilites were uncomfortable asserting the eternality of any but God Himself. They declared that God is pure essence with no eternal names and qualities. His “attributes” are simply aspects of His essence.

  The traditionalists, on the other hand, interpreted the Qur’an literally. They identified the Qur’an with the word—and words—of God. They argued that, since God is eternal and has speech, then His speech—an attribute—must be eternal. Since the Qur’an is His speech, it is eternal, as well. Thus, God’s attributes, contra the Mu‘tazilite position, are coeternal with Him, and the Qur’an is uncreated, not created. They viewed the Mu‘tazilite position as an attack on the authority of the Qur’an and, indirectly, on the power of God.

  These debates seem as hairsplitting to many of us as the Christian controversies over the nature of Christ which produced Monophysitism and Nestorianism. However, like their Christian predecessors, the principals in these controversies were determined to use the power of the state to enforce their opinion. The crisis came to a head during the caliphate of al-Ma’mun (813–833). Mu‘tazilism appealed to him in part because he was a rationalist himself, and in part because the doctrine of the createdness of the Qur’an could more easily allow the caliph, like the Shi‘ite Imam, to interpret and expand on the meaning of the Qur’an as he felt was necessary. A doctrine that insisted on the literal meaning of the Qur’an restricted the scope of such interpretation. Al-Ma’mun required that Mu‘tazilite doctrines be followed by qadis and other officials whose decisions had an impact on policy. In the face of resistance to this decree, he instituted a tribunal in 833 to enforce the Mu‘tazilite doctrine. The court used the threat of torture and death to force compliance. Only a few, including Ibn Hanbal, refused to recant the doctrine of the uncreatedness of the Qur’an. The obstinate ones were imprisoned, and some died from the harsh treatment they suffered. The persecution continued intermittently until 849, when the new caliph reversed the policy, and then it became the turn of the Mu‘tazilites to be persecuted.

  The Critique of Rationalism

  The reaction against the Mu‘tazilites was vehement. Despite the fact that even their Muslim critics had often commended them for their defense of Islam against attacks by competing religious systems, many Muslims inferred from their arguments that they regarded revelation to be secondary to human reason. It seemed to many of their opponents that, like the philosophers, they regarded reason to be the supreme organizing principle in the universe, and that God and His works were subject to its rules of logic. They appeared to regard revelation itself as valid only if it was consistent with the workings of reason. Ibn Hanbal spoke for many Muslims when he asserted that the Qur’an and the Sunna of the Prophet were the sole sources of Islamic doctrine and practice. It was the duty of Muslims to accept the literal meaning of the Qur’an at face value “without asking how” (bi-la kayf) ambiguous or puzzling doctrines could be reconciled with human reason. Ibn Hanbal’s school of law arose as a reaction to the Mu‘tazilite controversy. Its purpose was to ensure that the Qur’an—literally interpreted—and the Hadith were the sole basis for jurisprudence.

  In the midst of the conflict between the rationalist approach of the Mu‘tazilites and the literalist position of their opponents, other thinkers tried to find a middle ground. The most influential was al-Ash‘ari (d. 935), whose work eventually became the basis upon which subsequent scholars fashioned the theology that became the intellectual
rationale for Sunni doctrine. Al-Ash‘ari was a former Mu‘tazilite, but he was convinced that the Mu‘tazilite emphasis on reason undermined faith. Claiming that he was following in the tradition of Ibn Hanbal, he set about to do battle with the “rationalists.” The irony of the situation, which was not lost on the Hanbalis, was that al-Ash‘ari was defending the faith with the very tools of the Mu‘tazilites: philosophical terms and dialectical arguments. This came about by the necessity of the age, as al-Ash‘ari realized that to defeat the Mu‘tazilites he would have to meet them on their own terms.

  Al-Ash‘ari insisted without equivocation that the Qur’an was uncreated and that God possesses attributes that are in His essence. Realizing the trap that lay in store for him, he cautioned that God’s attributes may not be said to be identical with His essence, nor can they be said not to be identical with it. Such attributes—such as speech, sight, and hearing—are not like those of His creatures, and must simply be accepted bi-la kayf. Al-Ash‘ari also argued that humans are incapable of creating their own acts. Unlike the Mu‘tazilites, who argued that humans have free will, and the Hanbalis, who claimed that God is the author of all acts despite the fact that man is responsible for his evil acts on the Day of Judgment, al-Ash‘ari used the concept of “acquisition” (kasb) to try to account for the synergy of God and man in a given act. At the heart of the concept is the theory that the creation of the world is not a finished act, but an ongoing one, in which God is constantly making each moment possible. At each instant, God is the creator of all acts, and yet men in some sense “acquire” them.