The Reconstruction of Religious Thought in Islam [Electronic resources] نسخه متنی

The Spirit of Muslim
Culture
‘Muhammad of Arabia ascended
the highest Heaven and returned. I swear by God that if I had reached that point, I should
never have returned.’¹ These are the words of a great Muslim saint,
‘AbdulQudds of Gangoh. In the whole range of Sufi literature it will be probably
difficult to find words which, in a single sentence, disclose such an acute perception of
the psychological difference between the prophetic and the mystic types of consciousness.
The mystic does not wish to return from the repose of ‘unitary experience’; and
even when he does return, as he must, his return does not mean much for mankind at large.
The prophet’s return is creative. He returns to insert himself into the sweep of time
with a view to control the forces of history, and thereby to create a fresh world of
ideals. For the mystic the repose of ‘unitary experience’ is something final;
for the prophet it is the awakening, within him, of world-shaking psychological forces,
calculated to completely transform the human world. The desire to see his religious
experience transformed into a living world-force is supreme in the prophet. Thus his
return amounts to a kind of pragmatic test of the value of his religious experience. In
its creative act the prophet’s will judges both itself and the world of concrete fact
in which it endeavours to objectify itself. In penetrating the impervious material before
him the prophet discovers himself for himself, and unveils himself to the eye of history.
Another way of judging the value of a prophet’s religious experience, therefore,
would be to examine the type of manhood that he has created, and the cultural world that
has sprung out of the spirit of his message. In this lecture I want to confine myself to
the latter alone. The idea is not to give you a description of the achievements of Islam
in the domain of knowledge. I want rather to fix your gaze on some of the ruling concepts
of the culture of Islam in order to gain an insight into the process of ideation that
underlies them, and thus to catch a glimpse of the soul that found expression through
them. Before, however, I proceed to do so it is necessary to understand the cultural value
of a great idea in Islam - I mean the finality of the institution of prophethood.²
A prophet may be defined as a
type of mystic consciousness in which ‘unitary experience’ tends to overflow its
boundaries, and seeks opportunities of redirecting or refashioning the forces of
collective life. In his personality the finite centre of life sinks into his own infinite
depths only to spring up again, with fresh vigour, to destroy the old, and to disclose the
new directions of life. This contact with the root of his own being is by no means
peculiar to man. Indeed the way in which the word Wa (inspiration) is used in the
Qur’n shows that the Qur’n regards it as a universal property of life;³
though its nature and character are different at different stages of the evolution of
life. The plant growing freely in space, the animal developing a new organ to suit a new
environment, and a human being receiving light from the inner depths of life, are all
cases of inspiration varying in character according to the needs of the recipient, or the
needs of the species to which the recipient belongs. Now during the minority of mankind
psychic energy develops what I call prophetic consciousness - a mode of economizing
individual thought and choice by providing ready-made judgements, choices, and ways of
action. With the birth of reason and critical faculty, however, life, in its own interest,
inhibits the formation and growth of non-rational modes of consciousness through which
psychic energy flowed at an earlier stage of human evolution. Man is primarily governed by
passion and instinct. Inductive reason, which alone makes man master of his environment,
is an achievement; and when once born it must be reinforced by inhibiting the growth of
other modes of knowledge. There is no doubt that the ancient world produced some great
systems of philosophy at a time when man was comparatively primitive and governed more or
less by suggestion. But we must not forget that this system-building in the ancient world
was the work of abstract thought which cannot go beyond the systematization of vague
religious beliefs and traditions, and gives us no hold on the concrete situations of life.
Looking at the matter from this
point of view, then, the Prophet of Islam seems to stand between the ancient and the
modern world. In so far as the source of his revelation is concerned he belongs to the
ancient world; in so far as the spirit of his revelation is concerned he belongs to the
modern world. In him life discovers other sources of knowledge suitable to its new
direction. The birth of Islam, as I hope to be able presently to prove to your
satisfaction, is the birth of inductive intellect. In Islam prophecy reaches its
perfection in discovering the need of its own abolition.⁴ This involves the
keen perception that life cannot for ever be kept in leading strings; that, in order to
achieve full self-consciousness, man must finally be thrown back on his own resources. The
abolition of priesthood and hereditary kingship in Islam, the constant appeal to reason
and experience in the Qur’n, and the emphasis that it lays on Nature and History as
sources of human knowledge, are all different aspects of the same idea of finality. The
idea, however, does not mean that mystic experience, which qualitatively does not differ
from the experience of the prophet, has now ceased to exist as a vital fact. Indeed the
Qur’n regards both Anfus (self) and fq (world) as sources of
knowledge.⁵ God reveals His signs in inner as well as outer experience, and it
is the duty of man to judge the knowledge-yielding capacity of all aspects of experience.
The idea of finality, therefore, should not be taken to suggest that the ultimate fate of
life is complete displacement of emotion by reason. Such a thing is neither possible nor
desirable. The intellectual value of the idea is that it tends to create an independent
critical attitude towards mystic experience by generating the belief that all personal
authority, claiming a supernatural origin, has come to an end in the history of man. This
kind of belief is a psychological force which inhibits the growth of such authority. The
function of the idea is to open up fresh vistas of knowledge in the domain of man’s
inner experience. Just as the first half of the formula of Islam⁶ has created
and fostered the spirit of a critical observation of man’s outer experience by
divesting the forces of nature of that Divine character with which earlier cultures had
clothed them. Mystic experience, then, however unusual and abnormal, must now be regarded
by a Muslim as a perfectly natural experience, open to critical scrutiny like other
aspects of human experience. This is clear from the Prophet’s own attitude towards
Ibn ayyd’s psychic experiences.⁷ The function of Sufism in Islam has
been to systematize mystic experience; though it must be admitted that Ibn Khaldn was
the only Muslim who approached it in a thoroughly scientific spirit.⁸
But inner experience is only one
source of human knowledge. According to the Qur’n, there are two other sources of
knowledge - Nature and History; and it is in tapping these sources of knowledge that the
spirit of Islam is seen at its best. The Qur’n sees signs of the Ultimate Reality
in the ‘sun’, the ‘moon’, ‘the lengthening out of shadows’,
‘the alternation of day and night’, ‘the variety of human colours and
tongues’,10 ‘the alternation of the days of success and reverse among
peoples’ - in fact in the whole of Nature as revealed to the sense-perception of man.
And the Muslim’s duty is to reflect on these signs and not to pass by them ‘as
if he is dead and blind’, for he ‘who does not see these signs in this life will
remain blind to the realities of the life to come’.⁹ This appeal to the
concrete combined with the slow realization that, according to the teachings of the
Qur’n, the universe is dynamic in its origin, finite and capable of increase,
eventually brought Muslim thinkers into conflict with Greek thought which, in the
beginning of their intellectual career, they had studied with so much enthusiasm. Not
realizing that the spirit of the Qur’n was essentially anti-classical, and putting
full confidence in Greek thinkers, their first impulse was to understand the Qur’n
in the light of Greek philosophy. In view of the concrete spirit of the Qur’n, and
the speculative nature of Greek philosophy which enjoyed theory and was neglectful of
fact, this attempt was foredoomed to failure. And it is what follows their failure that
brings out the real spirit of the culture of Islam, and lays the foundation of modern
culture in some of its most important aspects.
This intellectual revolt against
Greek philosophy manifests itself in all departments of thought. I am afraid I am not
competent enough to deal with it as it discloses itself in Mathematics, Astronomy, and
Medicine. It is clearly visible in the metaphysical thought of the Ash‘arite, but
appears as a most well-defined phenomenon in the Muslim criticism of Greek Logic. This was
only natural; for dissatisfaction with purely speculative philosophy means the search for
a surer method of knowledge. It was, I think, Nam who first formulated the principle
of ‘doubt’ as the beginning of all knowledge. Ghazzl further amplified it in
his ‘Revivification of the Sciences of Religion’,¹⁰ and prepared the
way for ‘Descartes’ Method’. But Ghazzl remained on the whole a
follower of Aristotle in Logic. In his Qists he puts some of the Quranic
arguments in the form of Aristotelian figures,¹¹ but forgets the Quranic Srah
known as Shu’ar’ where the proposition that retribution follows the
gainsaying of prophets is established by the method of simple enumeration of historical
instances. It was Ishrqand Ibn Taimyyah who undertook a systematic refutation of
Greek Logic.¹² Ab Bakr Rz was perhaps the first to criticize
Aristotle’s first figure,¹³ and in our own times his objection, conceived
in a thoroughly inductive spirit, has been reformulated by John Stuart Mill. Ibn azm, in
his ‘Scope of Logic’,¹⁴ emphasizes sense-perception as a source of
knowledge; and Ibn Taimyyah in his ‘Refutation of Logic’, shows that induction
is the only form of reliable argument. Thus arose the method of observation and
experiment. It was not a merely theoretical affair. Al-Brn’s discovery of what
we call reaction-time and al-Kind’s discovery that sensation is proportionate to
the stimulus, are instances of its application in psychology.¹⁵ It is a mistake
to suppose that the experimental method is a European discovery. D hring tells us that
Roger Bacon’s conceptions of science are more just and clear than those of his
celebrated namesake. And where did Roger Bacon receive his scientific training? - In the
Muslim universities of Spain. Indeed Part V of his Opus Majus which is devoted to
‘Perspective’ is practically a copy of Ibn Haitham’s Optics.¹⁶
Nor is the book, as a whole, lacking in evidences of Ibn Hazm’s influence on its
author.¹⁷ Europe has been rather slow to recognize the Islamic origin of her
scientific method. But full recognition of the fact has at last come. Let me quote one or
two passages from Briffault’s Making of Humanity,
‘. . . it was under their
successors at that Oxford school that Roger Bacon learned Arabic and Arabic science.
Neither Roger Bacon nor his later namesake has any title to be credited with having
introduced the experimental method. Roger Bacon was no more than one of the apostles of
Muslim science and method to Christian Europe; and he never wearied of declaring that a
knowledge of Arabic and Arabian science was for his contemporaries the only way to true
knowledge. Discussions as to who was the originator of the experimental method . . . are
part of the colossal misrepresentation of the origins of European civilization. The
experimental method of the Arabs was by Bacon’s time widespread and eagerly
cultivated throughout Europe’ (pp. 200-01). . . .
‘Science is the most
momentous contribution of Arab civilization to the modern world, but its fruits were slow
in ripening. Not until long after Moorish culture had sunk back into darkness did the
giant to which it had given birth rise in his might. It was not science which brought
Europe back to life. Other and manifold influences from the civilization of Islam
communicated its first glow to European life’ (p. 202).
‘For although there is not a
single aspect of European growth in which the decisive influence of Islamic culture is not
traceable, nowhere is it so clear and momentous as in the genesis of that power which
constitutes the paramount distinctive force of the modern world, and the supreme source of
its victory - natural science and the scientific spirit’ (p. 190).
‘The debt of our science to
that of the Arabs does not consist in startling discoveries or revolutionary theories;
science owes a great deal more to Arab culture, it owes its existence. The ancient world
was, as we saw, pre-scientific. The astronomy and mathematics of the Greek were a foreign
importation never thoroughly acclimatized in Greek culture. The Greeks systematized,
generalized, and theorized, but the patient ways of investigation, the accumulation of
positive knowledge, the minute methods of science, detailed and prolonged observation,
experimental inquiry, were altogether alien to the Greek temperament. Only in Hellenistic
Alexandria was any approach to scientific work conducted in the ancient classical world.
What we call science arose in Europe as a result of a new spirit of inquiry, of new
methods of investigation, of the method of experiment, observation, measurement, of the
development of mathematics in a form unknown to the Greeks. That spirit and those methods
were introduced into the European world by the Arabs’ (p. 191).
The first important point to note
about the spirit of Muslim culture then is that, for purposes of knowledge, it fixes its
gaze on the concrete, the finite. It is further clear that the birth of the method of
observation and experiment in Islam was due not to a compromise with Greek thought but to
a prolonged intellectual warfare with it. In fact, the influence of the Greeks who, as
Briffault says, were interested chiefly in theory, not in fact, tended rather to obscure
the Muslims’ vision of the Qur’n, and for at least two centuries kept the
practical Arab temperament from asserting itself and coming to its own. I want, therefore,
definitely to eradicate the misunderstanding that Greek thought, in any way, determined
the character of Muslim culture. Part of my argument you have seen; part you will see
presently.
Knowledge must begin with the
concrete. It is the intellectual capture of and power over the concrete that makes it
possible for the intellect of man to pass beyond the concrete. As the Qur’n says:
‘O company of djinn and men,
if you can overpass the bounds of the heaven and the earth, then overpass them. But by
power alone shall ye overpass them’ (55:33).
But the universe, as a collection
of finite things, presents itself as a kind of island situated in a pure vacuity to which
time, regarded as a series of mutually exclusive moments, is nothing and does nothing.
Such a vision of the universe leads the reflecting mind nowhere. The thought of a limit to
perceptual space and time staggers the mind. The finite, as such, is an idol obstructing
the movement of the mind; or, in order to overpass its bounds, the mind must overcome
serial time and the pure vacuity of perceptual space. ‘And verily towards thy God is
the limit’, says the Qur’n.¹⁸ This verse embodies one of the
deepest thoughts in the Qur’n; for it definitely suggests that the ultimate limit
is to be sought not in the direction of stars, but in an infinite cosmic life and
spirituality. Now the intellectual journey towards this ultimate limit is long and
arduous; and in this effort, too, the thought of Islam appears to have moved in a
direction entirely different to the Greeks. The ideal of the Greeks, as Spengler tells us,
was proportion, not infinity. The physical presentness of the finite with its well-defined
limits alone absorbed the mind of the Greeks. In the history of Muslim culture, on the
other hand, we find that both in the realms of pure intellect and religious psychology, by
which term I mean higher Sufism, the ideal revealed is the possession and enjoyment of the
Infinite. In a culture, with such an attitude, the problem of space and time becomes a
question of life and death. In one of these lectures I have already given you some idea of
the way in which the problem of time and space presented itself to Muslim thinkers,
especially the Ash‘arite. One reason why the atomism of Democritus never became
popular in the world of Islam is that it involves the assumption of an absolute space. The
Ash‘arite were, therefore, driven to develop a different kind of atomism, and tried
to overcome the difficulties of perceptual space in a manner similar to modern atomism. On
the side of Mathematics it must be remembered that since the days of Ptolemy (A.D. 87-165)
till the time of Nar s (A.D. 120-74)nobody gave serious thought to the
difficulties of demonstrating the certitude of Euclid’s parallel postulate on the
basis of perceptual space.¹⁹ It was s who first disturbed the calm which
had prevailed in the world of Mathematics for a thousand years; and in his effort to
improve the postulate realized the necessity of abandoning perceptual space. He thus
furnished a basis, however slight, for the hyperspace movement of our time.²⁰
It was, however, al-Brn who, in his approach to the modern mathematical idea of
function saw, from a purely scientific point of view, the insufficiency of a static view
of the universe. This again is a clear departure from the Greek view. The function-idea
introduces the element of time in our world-picture. It turns the fixed into the variable,
and sees the universe not as being but as becoming. Spengler thinks that the mathematical
idea of function is the symbol of the West of which ‘no other culture gives even a
hint’.²¹ In view of al-Brn, generalizing Newton’s formula of
interpolation from trignometrical function to any function whatever.²²
Spengler’s claim has no foundation in fact. The transformation of the Greek concept
of number from pure magnitude to pure relation really began with Khwrizms movement
from Arithmetic to Algebra.²³ al-Brn took a definite step forward towards
what Spengler describes as chronological number which signifies the mind’s passage
from being to becoming. Indeed, more recent developments in European mathematics tend
rather to deprive time of its living historical character, and to reduce it to a mere
representation of space. That is why Whitehead’s view of Relativity is likely to
appeal to Muslim students more than that of Einstein in whose theory time loses its
character of passage and mysteriously translates itself into utter space.^24a
Side by side with the progress of
mathematical thought in Islam we find the idea of evolution gradually shaping itself. It
was Ja`hiz who was the first to note the changes in bird-life caused by migrations. Later
Ibn Maskawaih who was a contemporary of al-Brn gave it the shape of a more definite
theory, and adopted it in his theological work - al-Fauz al-Asghar. I reproduce
here the substance of his evolutionary hypothesis, not because of its scientific value,
but because of the light which it throws on the direction in which Muslim thought was
moving.
According to Ibn Maskawaih
plant-life at the lowest stage of evolution does not need any seed for its birth and
growth. Nor does it perpetuate its species by means of the seed. This kind of plant-life
differs from minerals only in some little power of movement which grows in higher forms,
and reveals itself further in that the plant spreads out its branches, and perpetuates its
species by means of the seed. The power of movement gradually grows farther until we reach
trees which possess a trunk, leaves, and fruit. At a higher stage of evolution stand forms
of plant-life which need better soil and climate for their growth. The last stage of
development is reached in vine and date-palm which stand, as it were, on the threshold of
animal life. In the date-palm a clear sex-distinction appears. Besides roots and fibres it
develops something which functions like the animal brain, on the integrity of which
depends the life of the date-palm. This is the highest stage in the development of
plant-life, and a prelude to animal life. The first forward step towards animal life is
freedom from earth-rootedness which is the germ of conscious movement. This is the initial
state of animality in which the sense of touch is the first, and the sense of sight is the
last to appear. With the development of the senses of animal acquires freedom of movement,
as in the case of worms, reptiles, ants, and bees. Animality reaches its perfection in the
horse among quadrupeds and the falcon among birds, and finally arrives at the frontier of
humanity in the ape which is just a degree below man in the scale of evolution. Further
evolution brings physiological changes with a growing power of discrimination and
spirituality until humanity passes from barbarism to civilization.^24b
But it is really religious
psychology, as in ‘Irqand Khwjah Muhammad Prs,²⁵ which brings us
much nearer to our modern ways of looking at the problem of space and time.
‘Irq’s view of time-stratifications I have given you before.²⁶ I
will now give you the substance of his view of space.
According to ‘Irq the
existence of some kind of space in relation to God is clear from the following verses of
the Qur’n:
‘Dost thou not see that God
knoweth all that is in the heavens and all that is in the earth? Three persons speak not
privately together, but He is their fourth; nor five, but He is their sixth; nor fewer nor
more, but wherever they be He is with them’ (58:7).
‘Ye shall not be employed in
affairs, nor shall ye read a text out of the Qur’n, nor shall ye do any work, but
We will be witness over you when you are engaged therein; and the weight of an atom on
earth or in heaven escapeth not thy Lord; nor is there aught²⁷ that is less
than this or greater, but it is in the Perspicuous Book’ (10:61).
‘We created man, and We know
what his soul whispereth to him, and We are closer to him than his neck-vein’
(50:16).
But we must not forget that the
words proximity, contact, and mutual separation which apply to material bodies do not
apply to God. Divine life is in touch with the whole universe on the analogy of the
soul’s contact with the body.²⁸ The soul is neither inside nor outside the
body; neither proximate to nor separate from it. Yet its contact with every atom of the
body is real, and it is impossible to conceive this contact except by positing some kind
of space which befits the subtleness of the soul. The existence of space in relation to
the life of God, therefore, cannot be denied;²⁹ only we should carefully define
the kind of space which may be predicated of the Absoluteness of God. Now, there are three
kinds of space - the space of material bodies, the space of immaterial beings, and the
space of God.³⁰ The space of material bodies is further divided into three
kinds. First, the space of gross bodies of which we predicate roominess. In this space
movement takes time, bodies occupy their respective places and resist displacement.
Secondly, the space of subtle bodies, e.g. air and sound. In this space too bodies resist
each other, and their movement is measurable in terms of time which, however, appears to
be different to the time of gross bodies. The air in a tube must be displaced before other
air can enter into it; and the time of sound-waves is practically nothing compared to the
time of gross bodies. Thirdly, we have the space of light. The light of the sun instantly
reaches the remotest limits of the earth. Thus in the velocity of light and sound time is
reduced almost to zero. It is, therefore, clear that the space of light is different to
the space of air and sound. There is, however, a more effective argument than this. The
light of a candle spreads in all directions in a room without displacing the air in the
room; and this shows that the space of light is more subtle than the space of air which
has no entry into the space of light.³¹ In view of the close proximity of these
spaces, however, it is not possible to distinguish the one from the other except by purely
intellectual analysis and spiritual experience. Again, in the hot water the two opposites
- fire and water - which appear to interpenetrate each other cannot, in view of their
respective natures, exist in the same space.³² The fact cannot be explained
except on the supposition that the spaces of the two substances, though closely proximate
to each other, are nevertheless distinct. But while the element of distance is not
entirely absent, there is no possibility of mutual resistance in the space of light. The
light of a candle reaches up to a certain point only, and the lights of a hundred candles
intermingle in the same room without displacing one another.
Having thus described the spaces
of physical bodies possessing various degrees of subtleness ‘Irq proceeds briefly
to describe the main varieties of space operated upon by the various classes of immaterial
beings, e.g. angels. The element of distance is not entirely absent from these spaces; for
immaterial beings, while they can easily pass through stone walls, cannot altogether
dispense with motion which, according to ‘Irq, is evidence of imperfection in
spirituality.³³ The highest point in the scale of spatial freedom is reached by
the human soul which, in its unique essence, is neither at rest nor in motion.³⁴
Thus passing through the infinite varieties of space we reach the Divine space which is
absolutely free from all dimensions and constitutes the meeting point of all infinities.³⁵
From this summary of
‘Irq’s view you will see how a cultured Muslim Sufi`intellectually
interpreted his spiritual experience of time and space in an age which had no idea of the
theories and concepts of modern Mathematics and Physics. ‘Irq is really trying to
reach the concept of space as a dynamic appearance. His mind seems to be vaguely
struggling with the concept of space as an infinite continuum; yet he was unable to see
the full implications of his thought partly because he was not a mathematician and partly
because of his natural prejudice in favour of the traditional Aristotelian idea of a fixed
universe. Again, the interpenetration of the super-spatial ‘here’ and
super-eternal ‘now’ in the Ultimate Reality suggests the modern notion of
space-time which Professor Alexander, in his lectures on ‘Space, Time, and
Deity’, regards as the matrix of all things.³⁶ A keener insight into the
nature of time would have led ‘Irq to see that time is more fundamental of the
two; and that it is not a mere metaphor to say, as Professor Alexander does say, that time
is the mind of space.³⁷ ‘Irq conceives God’s relation to the
universe on the analogy of the relation of the human soul to the body;³⁸ but,
instead of philosophically reaching this position through a criticism of the spatial and
temporal aspects of experience, he simply postulates it on the basis of his spiritual
experience. It is not sufficient merely to reduce space and time to a vanishing
point-instant. The philosophical path that leads to God as the omnipsyche of the universe
lies through the discovery of living thought as the ultimate principle of space-time.
‘Irq’s mind, no doubt, moved in the right direction, but his Aristotelian
prejudices, coupled with a lack of psychological analysis, blocked his progress. With his
view that Divine Time is utterly devoid of change³⁹ - a view obviously based on
an inadequate analysis of conscious experience - it was not possible for him to discover
the relation between Divine Time and serial time, and to reach, through this discovery,
the essentially Islamic idea of continuous creation which means a growing universe.
Thus all lines of Muslim thought
converge on a dynamic conception of the universe. This view is further reinforced by Ibn
Maskawaih’s theory of life as an evolutionary movement, and Ibn Khaldn’s view
of history. History or, in the language of the Qur’n, ‘the days of God’,
is the third source of human knowledge according to the Qur’n. It is one of the
most essential teachings of the Qur’n that nations are collectively judged, and
suffer for their misdeeds here and now.⁴⁰ In order to establish this
proposition, the Qur’n constantly cites historical instances, and urges upon the
reader to reflect on the past and present experience of mankind.
"Of old did We send Moses
with Our signs, and said to him: ‘Bring forth thy people from the darkness into the
light, and remind them of the days of God." Verily, in this are signs for every
patient, grateful person’ (14:5).
‘And among those whom We had
created are a people who guide others with truth, and in accordance therewith act justly.
But as for those who treat Our signs as lies, We gradually ring them down by means of
which they know not; and though I lengthen their days, verily, My stratagem is
effectual’ (7:181-83).
‘Already, before your time,
have precedents been made. Traverse the Earth then, and see what hath been the end of
those who falsify the signs of God!’ (3:137).
‘If a wound hath befallen
you, a wound like it hath already befallen others; We alternate the days of successes and
reverses among peoples’ (3:140).
‘Every nation hath its fixed
period’ (7:34).⁴¹
The last verse is rather an
instance of a more specific historical generalization which, in its epigrammatic
formulation, suggests the possibility of a scientific treatment of the life of human
societies regarded as organisms. It is, therefore, a gross error to think that the
Qur’n has no germs of a historical doctrine. The truth is that the whole spirit of
the ‘Prolegomena’ of Ibn Khaldn appears to have been mainly due to the
inspiration which the author must have received from the Qur’n. Even in his
judgements of character he is, in no small degree, indebted to the Qur’n. An
instance in point is his long paragraph devoted to an estimate of the character of the
Arabs as a people. The whole paragraph is a mere amplification of the following verses of
the Qur’n:
‘The Arabs of the desert are
most stout in unbelief and dissimulation; and likelier it is that they should be unaware
of the laws which God hath sent down to His Apostle; and God is Knowing, Wise.
‘Of the Arabs of the desert
there are some who reckon what they expend in the cause of God as tribute, and wait for
some change of fortune to befall you: a change for evil shall befall them! God is the
Hearer, the Knower’ (9:97-98).
However, the interest of the
Qur’n in history, regarded as a source of human knowledge, extends farther than
mere indications of historical generalizations. It has given us one of the most
fundamental principles of historical criticism: Since accuracy in recording facts which
constitute the material of history is an indispensable condition of history as a science,
and an accurate knowledge of facts ultimately depends on those who report them, the very
first principle of historical criticism is that the reporter’s personal character is
an important factor in judging his testimony. The Qur’n says:
‘O believers! if any bad man
comes to you with a report, clear it up at once’ (49:6).
It is the application of the
principle embodied in this verse to the reporters of the Prophet’s traditions out of
which were gradually evolved the canons of historical criticism. The growth of historical
sense in Islam is a fascinating subject.⁴² The Quranic appeal to experience,
the necessity to ascertain the exact sayings of the Prophet, and the desire to furnish
permanent sources of inspiration to posterity - all these forces contributed to produce
such men as Ibn Ishq,⁴³ abar,⁴⁴ and Mas‘d.⁴⁵
But history, as an art of firing the reader’s imagination, is only a stage in the
development of history as a genuine science. The possibility of a scientific treatment of
history means a wider experience, a greater maturity of practical reason, and finally a
fuller realization of certain basic ideas regarding the nature of life and time. These
ideas are in the main two; and both form the foundation of the Quranic teaching.
1. The Unity of Human Origin.
‘And We have created you all from one breath of life’, says the Qur’n.⁴⁶
But the perception of life as an organic unity is a slow achievement, and depends for its
growth on a people’s entry into the main current of world-events. This opportunity
was brought to Islam by the rapid development of a vast empire. No doubt, Christianity,
long before Islam, brought the message of equality to mankind; but Christian Rome did not
rise to the full apprehension of the idea of humanity as a single organism. As Flint
rightly says, ‘No Christian writer and still less, of course, any other in the Roman
Empire, can be credited with having had more than a general and abstract conception of
human unity.’ And since the days of Rome the idea does not seem to have gained much
in depth and rootage in Europe. On the other hand, the growth of territorial nationalism,
with its emphasis on what is called national characteristics, has tended rather to kill
the broad human element in the art and literature of Europe. It was quite otherwise with
Islam. Here the idea was neither a concept of philosophy nor a dream of poetry. As a
social movement the aim of Islam was to make the idea a living factor in the Muslim’s
daily life, and thus silently and imperceptibly to carry it towards fuller fruition.
2. A Keen Sense of the
Reality of Time, and the Concept of Life as a Continuous Movement in Time. It is this
conception of life and time which is the main point of interest in Ibn Khaldn’s
view of history, and which justifies Flint’s eulogy that ‘Plato, Aristotle, and
Augustine were not his peers, and all others were unworthy of being even mentioned along
with him’.⁴⁷ From the remarks that I have made above I do not mean to
throw doubt on the originality of Ibn Khaldn. All that I mean to say is that,
considering the direction in which the culture of Islam had unfolded itself, only a Muslim
could have viewed history as a continuous, collective movement, a real inevitable
development in time. The point of interest in this view of history is the way in which Ibn
Khaldn conceives the process of change. His conception is of infinite importance because
of the implication that history, as a continuous movement in time, is a genuinely creative
movement and not a movement whose path is already determined. Ibn Khaldn was not a
metaphysician. Indeed he was hostile to Metaphysics.⁴⁸ But in view of the
nature of his conception of time he may fairly be regarded as a forerunner of Bergson. I
have already discussed the intellectual antecedents of this conception in the cultural
history of Islam. The Quranic view of the ‘alternation of day and night’⁴⁹
as a symbol of the Ultimate Reality which ‘appears in a fresh glory every
moment’,⁵⁰ the tendency in Muslim Metaphysics to regard time as objective,
Ibn Maskawaih’s view of life as an evolutionary movement,⁵¹ and lastly
al-Brn’s definite approach to the conception of Nature as a process of becoming⁵²
- all this constituted the intellectual inheritance of Ibn Khaldn. His chief merit lies
in his acute perception of, and systematic expression to, the spirit of the cultural
movement of which he was a most brilliant product. In the work of this genius the
anti-classical spirit of the Qur’n scores its final victory over Greek thought; for
with the Greeks time was either unreal, as in Plato and Zeno, or moved in a circle, as in
Heraclitus and the Stoics.⁵³ Whatever may be the criterion by which to judge
the forward steps of a creative movement, the movement itself, if conceived as cyclic,
ceases to be creative. Eternal recurrence is not eternal creation; it is eternal
repetition.
We are now in a position to see
the true significance of the intellectual revolt of Islam against Greek philosophy. The
fact that this revolt originated in a purely theological interest shows that the
anti-classical spirit of the Qur’n asserted itself in spite of those who began with
a desire to interpret Islam in the light of Greek thought.
It now remains to eradicate a
grave misunderstanding created by Spengler’s widely read book, The Decline of the
West. His two chapters devoted to the problem of Arabian culture⁵⁴
constitute a most important contribution to the cultural history of Asia. They are,
however, based on a complete misconception of the nature of Islam as a religious movement,
and of the cultural activity which it initiated. Spengler’s main thesis is that each
culture is a specific organism, having no point of contact with cultures that historically
precede or follow it. Indeed, according to him, each culture has its own peculiar way of
looking at things which is entirely inaccessible to men belonging to a different culture.
In his anxiety to prove this thesis he marshals an overwhelming array of facts and
interpretations to show that the spirit of European culture is through and through
anti-classical. And this anti-classical spirit of European culture is entirely due to the
specific genius of Europe, and not to any inspiration she may have received from the
culture of Islam which, according to Spengler, is thoroughly ‘Magian’ in spirit
and character. Spengler’s view of the spirit of modern culture is, in my opinion,
perfectly correct. I have, however, tried to show in these lectures that the
anti-classical spirit of the modern world has really arisen out of the revolt of Islam
against Greek thought.⁵⁵ It is obvious that such a view cannot be acceptable to
Spengler; for, if it is possible to show that the anti-classical spirit of modern culture
is due to the inspiration which it received from the culture immediately preceding it, the
whole argument of Spengler regarding the complete mutual independence of cultural growths
would collapse. I am afraid Spengler’s anxiety to establish this thesis has
completely perverted his vision of Islam as a cultural movement.
By the expression ‘Magian
culture’ Spengler means the common culture associated with what he calls ‘Magian
group of religions’,⁵⁶ i.e. Judaism, ancient Chaldean religion, early
Christianity, Zoroastrianism, and Islam. That a Magian crust has grown over Islam, I do
not deny. Indeed my main purpose in these lectures has been to secure a vision of the
spirit of Islam as emancipated from its Magian overlayings which, in my opinion, have
misled Spengler. His ignorance of Muslim thought on the problem of time, as well as of the
way in which the ‘I’, as a free centre of experience, has found expression in
the religious experience of Islam, is simply appalling.⁵⁷ Instead of seeking
light from the history of Muslim thought and experience, he prefers to base his judgement
on vulgar beliefs as to the beginning and end of time. Just imagine a man of overwhelming
learning finding support for the supposed fatalism of Islam in such Eastern expressions
and proverbs as the ‘vault of time’,⁵⁸ and ‘everything has a
time!’⁵⁹ However, on the origin and growth of the concept of time in
Islam, and on the human ego as a free power, I have said enough in these lectures. It is
obvious that a full examination of Spengler’s view of Islam, and of the culture that
grew out of it, will require a whole volume. In addition to what I have said before, I
shall offer here one more observation of a general nature.
‘The kernel of the prophetic
teaching,’ says Spengler, ‘is already Magian. There is one God - be He called Yahweh,⁶⁰
Ahuramazda, or Marduk-Baal - who is the principle of good, and all other
deities are either impotent or evil. To this doctrine there attached itself the hope of a
Messiah, very clear in Isaiah, but also bursting out everywhere during the next centuries,
under pressure of an inner necessity. It is the basic idea of Magian religion, for it
contains implicitly the conception of the world-historical struggle between Good and Evil,
with the power of Evil prevailing in the middle period, and the Good finally triumphant on
the Day of Judgement.’60 If this view of the prophetic teaching is meant to apply to
Islam it is obviously a misrepresentation. The point to note is that the Magian admitted
the existence of false gods; only they did not turn to worship them. Islam denies the very
existence of false gods. In this connexion Spengler fails to appreciate the cultural value
of the idea of the finality of prophethood in Islam. No doubt, one important feature of
Magian culture is a perpetual attitude of expectation, a constant looking forward to the
coming of Zoroaster’s unborn sons, the Messiah, or the Paraclete of the fourth
gospel. I have already indicated the direction in which the student of Islam should seek
the cultural meaning of the doctrine of finality in Islam. It may further be regarded as a
psychological cure for the Magian attitude of constant expectation which tends to give a
false view of history. Ibn Khaldn, seeing the spirit of his own view of history, has
fully criticized and, I believe, finally demolished the alleged revelational basis in
Islam of an idea similar, at least in its psychological effects, to the original Magian
idea which had reappeared in Islam under the pressure of Magian thought.⁶¹