A History of Muslim Philosophy Volume 1

A History of Muslim Philosophy4%

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Publisher: www.muslimphilosophy.com
Category: Islamic Philosophy

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A History of Muslim Philosophy

A History of Muslim Philosophy Volume 1

Author:
Publisher: www.muslimphilosophy.com
English

This book is corrected and edited by Al-Hassanain (p) Institue for Islamic Heritage and Thought


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Chapter 20: Ibn `Arabi

By A.E. Affifi

Life And Works

A fair and critical account of the life and thought of Shaikh Muhyi al-Din ibn al-'Arabi (or Ibn 'Arabi as he was known in the East) presents certain difficulties. Biographical material is not lacking; he is given great prominence in many of the biographical and historical books, both in Arabic and Persian. Some whole books and chapters of books have been written in defence of his orthodoxy or against his alleged heterodoxy. Many of his own works, parti­cularly the Futuhat, Risalat al-Quds, and the “Memorandum” in which he enumerates his works and describes the conditions under which they were written, throw abundant light on some of the obscure aspects of his life as a man, and above all as an eminent Sufi and Sufi author.

But the account we derive from all these various sources is conflicting, and the real problem that faces us lies in drawing a true picture of his personality, his pattern of thought, and his works, based on such account. Yet as far as his personal life and his mental and spiritual make-up are concerned, our best source should be his own works to which we have already referred; for in such works we have first-hand information about his mental and spiritual progress.

There are also abundant details concerning his early masters in the Sufi Path, his personal contacts with the men and women he encountered on his vast travels. Here and there we come across a vivid description of his mystical experiences, visions, and dreams. Without the help of such material which has hitherto been neglected, Ibn 'Arabi's true personality, both as a thinker and a mystic, would remain considerably unknown to us.

The task is by no means easy. It means hunting through his voluminous Futuhat and other works for the biographical details we have just described. An outline of the main historical facts of his life is easy enough to give, but it would be no complete or scientific biography in the full sense of the word.

Ibn 'Arabi was born at Murcia - South-east of Spain - on the 17th of Ramadan 560/28th of July 1165. His nisbah - al-Hatimi al-Ta'i - shows that he was a descendant of the ancient Arab tribe of Tayy - a fact which proves that Muslim mysticism was not the exclusive heritage of the Persian mind as some scholars maintain. He came from a family well known for their piety. His father and two of his uncles were Sufis of some renown.

He received his early education at Seville which was a great centre .of learning at the time. There he remained for thirty years studying under some of the great scholars of that city such as Abu Bakr b. Khalaf, Ibn Zarqun, and Abi Muhammad 'Abd al-Haqq al-Ishbili. At Seville he also met a number of his early spiritual masters such as Yusuf b. Khalaf al-Qumi who was a personal disciple of Shaikh Abu Madyan,1 and Salih al-`Adawi whom he describes as a perfect ascetic. He refers to such men in terms of admiration and gratitude in his Futuhat and Risalat al-Quds, and acknowledges, his debt to them for the initiation he had received from them into the Path of Sufism.

While making Seville his permanent place of residence, he travelled widely throughout Spain and Maghrib establishing wherever he went fresh relations with eminent Sufis and other men of learning. He visited Cordova, while still a lad, and made acquaintance with Ibn Rushd, the philosopher, who was then the judge of the city.2

In 590/1194 he visited Fez and Morocco. At the age of 38, i.e., in 589/1193, he set out for the East during the reign of Ya`qub b. Yusuf b. 'Abd al-Mu'min, the Sultan of Africa and Andalusia. His apparent intention was to perform his pilgrimage, but his real aim was perhaps to seek settlement in another country far away from the very much troubled West. The political and religious atmos­phere there was stifling, and men like Ibn 'Arabi. were looked upon with suspicion both by the narrow-minded theologians and the ruling monarchs. The Sultans of the Muwahhids and Murabits feared them for the influence they had over their followers and the possible danger of using these followers for political purposes as was the case with Abu al-Qasim b. Qasi, head of the Muridin, who was killed in 546/1151.

The Malikite theologians of the West were most intolerant towards the new school of thought that was beginning to take shape at the time. Even al-Ghazali's teaching was rejected and his books committed to the flames. The East, on the other hand, was more tolerant and more ready to accept new ideas and movements. Yet not the whole of the East can be said to be so, for when Ibn 'Arabi visited Egypt in 598/1201, he was ill-received by some of its people and an attempt was made on his life.

After leaving Egypt he travelled far and wide throughout the Middle East visiting Jerusalem, Mecca (where he studied and taught Hadith for a time), the Hijaz, Baghdad, Aleppo, and Asia Minor. He finally settled down in Damascus until he died on the 28th of Rabi al-Thani 638/17th of November 1240. He was buried in Mount Qasiyun in the private sepulchre of Qadi Muhyi al-Din b. al-Dhaki.3

Ibn 'Arabi is one of the most prolific authors in Muslim history. He is adequately described by Brockelmann4 as a writer of colossal fecundity. There are at least 140 extant works which bear his name, varying from short treatises of some few pages to voluminous books like the Futuhat. The exact number of his works is uncertain. Sha`rani gives the figure of 400,5 and the Persian author Jami, the much exaggerated figure of 500.6 Muhammad Rajab Hilmi, in a book entitled al-Burhan al-Azhar fi Manaqib al-Shaikh al-Akbar, enume­rates 284 books and tracts.

In the “Memorandum” which Ibn 'Arabi himself drew up in the year 632/1234, six years before his death, he gave the titles of 251 of his writings and said that that was as far as he could remember. The writing of the “Memorandum” has its significance. It provides a written evidence against anyone who might attempt to forge books in his name; and there must have been many amongst his enemies in the East who made such attempts.

To establish the identity and authenticity of all the works that have been ascribed to him is a task which has not been undertaken by any scholar yet. But we know within limits the genuineness of most of his major works, although doubt might arise with regard to certain parts of their contents. If what Sha`rani says about the Futuhat is true, it would make us wonder how much of this most important book is genuinely Ibn 'Arabi's and how much of it is foisted upon him.7

When he tried to summarize the Futuhat, Sha’rani said, he came across certain passages which he thought were in conflict with the established opinions of the orthodox Muslims. He omitted them after some hesitation. One day, he was discussing the matter with Shaikh Shams al-Din al-Madani (d. 955/1648) who produced a copy of the Futuhat which had been collated with Ibn 'Arabi's own MS. of the book at Quniyah. On reading it he discovered that it contained none of the passages which he had omitted. This convinced him, he goes on to say, that the copies of the Futuhat which were in current use in Egypt in his time contained parts which had been foisted upon the author as done in the case of the Fusus and other works.8

This may very well have been the case, but having not yet read the Quniyah MS. of the Futuhat which is still extant, one is unable to say how it compares with the printed texts of our time. A critical edition of the book based on the Quniyah MS. is of utnlost importance. Indeed it might considerably alter our knowledge of Ibn 'Arabi's mystical philosophy.

What seems more certain is that many works or parts of works were written by later disciples of Ibn 'Arabi's school and attributed to him; and many others were extracted from his larger works and given independent titles. All these exhibit the same strain of thought and technique which characterize his genuine works. Such facts account, partly at least, for the enormous number of works which are usually attributed to him.

Although his output was mainly in the field of Sufism, his writings seem to have covered the entire range of Muslim scholarship. He wrote on the theory and practice of Sufism, Hadith, Qur'anic exegesis, the biography of the Prophet, philosophy, literature, including Sufi poetry, and natural sciences. In dealing with these diverse subjects he never lost sight of mysticism. We often see some aspects of his mystical system coming into prominence while dealing with a theological, juristic, or even scientific problem. His mystical ideas are imperceptibly woven into his writings on other sciences and make it all the more difficult to understand him from a mixed and inconsistent terminology.

The dates of only ten of his works are definitely known, but we can tell, within limits, whether a work belongs to his early life in Spain and al-Maghrib, or, to his later life in the East. With a few exceptions, most of his important works were written after he had left his native land, principally at Mecca and Damascus; and his maturest works like Futuhat, the Fusus, and the Tanazzulat were written during the last thirty years of his life.

His earlier works, on the other hand, are more of the nature of monographs written on single topics and show no sign of a comprehensive philosophical system. It seems that it is his contact with the resources and: men of the East that gave his theosophical speculations their wide range, and his mystical system of philosophy its finality.

His opus magnum, as far as mystical philosophy is concerned, is his celebrated Fusus al-Hikam (Gems of Philosophy or Bezels of Wisdom) which he finished at Damascus in 628/1230, ten years before his death. The rudiments of this philosophy are to be found scattered throughout his monumental Futuhat which he started at Mecca in 598/1201 and finished about 635/1237. The general theme of the Fusus was foreshadowed in the Futuhat in more places than one, and more particularly in Vol. II, pp. 357-77.

Pattern Of Thought And Style

The extraordinary complexity of Ibn 'Arabi's personality is a sufficient explanation of the complexity of the manner of his thinking and his style of writing. It is true that sometimes he is clear and straightforward, but more often - particularly when he plunges into metaphysical speculations - his style becomes twisted and baffling, and his ideas almost intractable. The difficulty of understanding him sometimes can even be felt by scholars who are well acquainted with the characteristic aspect of his thought. It is not so much what he intends to say as the way in which he actually says it that constitutes the real difficulty.

He has an impossible problem to solve, viz., to reconcile a pantheistic theory of the nature of reality with the monotheistic doctrine of Islam. His loyalty to both was equal, and indeed he saw no contradiction in holding that the God of Islam is identical with the One who is the essence and ultimate ground of all things. He was a pious ascetic and a mystic, besides being a scholar of Muslim Law, theology, and philosophy. His writings are a curious blend of all these subjects.

He is for ever trying either to interpret the whole fabric of the teaching of Islam in the light of his pantheistic theory of the unity of all being, or to find justification for this theory in some Islamic texts. The two methods go hand in hand, with two different languages, i. e., the esoteric language of mysticism and the exoteric language of religion, used con­currently. Logically speaking, Islam is irreconcilable with any form of panthe­ism, but Ibn 'Arabi finds in the mystic experience a higher synthesis in which Allah and the pantheistic One are reconciled.

Interpretation within reasonable limits is justifiable, but with Ibn 'Arabi it is a dangerous means of converting Islam into pantheism or vice versa. This is most apparent in the Fusus, and to a certain extent in the Futuhat, where the Qur'anic text and traditions of the Prophet are explained mystically or rather pantheistically. Furthermore, while he is thus occupied with eliciting from the Qur'anic text his own ideas, he gathers round the subject in hand material drawn from all sources and brings it all into the range of his meditation. This accounts for the very extensive and inconsistent vocabulary which makes his writings almost un­intelligible.

Whenever he is challenged or he thinks he would be challenged about the meaning of a certain statement, he at once brings forth another meaning which would convince the challenger. He was asked what he meant by saying:

“O Thou who seest me, while I see not Thee, How oft I see Him, while He sees not me!”

He replied at once, making the following additions which completely altered the original sense, by saying.

“O Thou who seest me ever prone to sin, While Thee I see not willing to upbraid: How oft I see Him grant His grace's aid While He sees me not seeking grace to win.”9

Similarly, when his contemporaries read his Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, which is supposed to be written on divine love, they could see in the Diwan nothing but erotic poems describing beautiful women, lovely scenes of nature and ordinary human passions. They accused the Shaikh of being in love with Shaikh Makin al-Din's daughter whose physical and moral qualities he describes in the introduction of the Diwan.

On hearing this he wrote a commentary on the work explaining it all allegorically. He did not deny that he loved al­-Nizam, the beautiful daughter of Makin al-Din. What he denied was that he loved her in the ordinary sense of human love. For him she was only a symbol, a form, of the all-pervading beauty which manifests itself in the infinite variety of things.

“Every name I mention,” he says, “refers to her; and every dwelling I weep at is her dwelling Yet the words of my verses are nothing but signs for the spiritual realities which descend upon my heart. May God guard the reader of this Diwan against entertaining thoughts which do not become men with noble souls and lofty aspirations, for the hearts of such men are only occupied with heavenly things.”10

It is not improbable that Ibn 'Arabi made a deliberate effort to complicate the style, as Professor E. G. Browne remarks, in order to conceal his ideas from the narrow-minded orthodox and the uninitiated. He certainly succeeded, partly at least, in covering his pantheistic ideas with an apparel of Qur'anic texts and Prophetic traditions - a fact which is largely responsible for the controversy which raged throughout the Muslim world regarding his orthodoxy. But it is also possible, as we have already remarked, that he was equally con­vinced of the truth of Islam and of his own philosophical system which was verified by his mystical experience. In this case there is no need to talk about concealment of ideas or intentional complexity of style.

It would be a mistake to judge Ibn 'Arabi by the ordinary canons of logic He is undoubtedly a thinker and founder of a school of thought, but he is pre-eminently a mystic. His mystical philosophy, therefore, represents the union of thought and emotion in the highest degree. It is a curious blend of reasoned truths and intuitive knowledge. He is also a man of colossal imagi­nation. His dialectical reasoning is never free from forceful imagery and mystic emotions. In fact, his thought seems to be working through his imagination all the time. He dreams what he thinks, yet there is a deep under-current of reasoning running through.

He does not always prove his ideas with a formal dialectic, but refers his readers to mystic intuition and imagination as the final proof of their validity. The world of imagination for him is a real world; perhaps even more real than the external world of concrete objects. It is a world in which true knowledge of things can be obtained. His own imagination was as active in his dreams as in his waking life.

He tells us the dates when and the places where he had the visions, in which he saw prophets and saints and discoursed with them; and others in which a whole book like the Fusus was handed to him by the Prophet Muhammad who bade him “take it and go forth with it to people that they may make use thereof.”11 He calls this an act of revelation or inspiration and claims that many of his books were so inspired.12

“All that I put down in my books,” he says, “is not the result of thinking or discursive reasoning. It is communicated to me through the breathing of the angel of revelation in my heart.”13 “All that I have written and what I am writing now is dictated to me through the breathing of the divine spirit into my spirit. This is my privilege as an heir not as an independent source; for the breathing of the spirit is a degree lower than the verbal inspiration.”14

Such claims point to a supernatural or supermental source by which Ibn 'Arabi's writings were inspired. Yet in discussing the problem of revelation (kashf and wahi) in general, he emphatically denies all outside supernatural agents, and regards revelation as something which springs from the nature of man. Here are his own words:

“So, if any man of revelation should behold an object revealing to him gnosis which he did not have before, or giving him something of which he had no possession, this `object' is his own 'ain (essence) and naught besides. Thus from the tree of his ‘self’ he gathers the fruit of his own knowledge, just as the image of him who stands before a polished mirror is no other than himself.”15

Revelation, therefore, is an activity of man's, soul, when all its spiritual powers are summoned and directed towards production. It is not due to an external agent, neither is it the work of the mind as we usually know it. What is sometimes seen as an “object” revealing knowledge to an inspired man is nothing but a projection of his own “self.”

Ibn 'Arabi is quite consistent with himself when he denies an outside source of divine inspiration, for man, according to him, like everything else, is in one sense divine. So there is no need to assume a duality of a divine revealer and a human receiver of knowledge.

Another very important aspect of his thought is its digressive character. He has offered the world a system of mystical philosophy, but nowhere in his books can we find this system explained as a whole or with any appreciable degree of unity or cohesion. He goes on from one subject to another with no apparent logical connection, pouring out details which he draws from every conceivable source. His philosophical ideas are widely spread among this mass of irrelevant material and one has to pick them up and piece them together.

That he has a definite system of mystical philosophy is a fact beyond doubt. It is hinted at in every page in the Fusus and in many parts of the Futuhat; but the system as a complete whole is to be found in neither. It is extraordinary that he admits that he has intentionally concealed his special theory by scattering its component parts throughout his books and left the task of assembling it to the intelligent reader. Speaking of the doctrine of the super­elect (by which he means the doctrine of the Unity of all Being), he says:

“I have never treated it as a single subject on account of its abstruse­ness, but dispersed it throughout the chapters of my book (the Futuhat). It is there complete but diffused, as I have already said. The intelligent reader who understands it will be able to recognize it and distinguish it from any other doctrine. It is the ultimate truth beyond which there is nothing to obtain.”16

The third aspect of his thought is its eclectic character. Although he may rightly claim to have a philosophy of religion of his own, many of the com­ponent elements of this philosophy are derived from Islamic as well as non-­Islamic sources. He had before him the enormous wealth of Muslim sciences as well as the treasures of Greek thought which were transmitted through Muslim philosophers and theologians. In addition, he was thoroughly familiar with the literature of earlier Sufis.

From all these sources he borrowed what­ever was pertinent to his system; and with his special technique of interpre­tation he brought whatever he borrowed into line with his own ideas. He read into the technical terms of traditional philosophy and theology - as he did with the Qur'anic terms - totally different meanings. He borrowed from Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics, Philo, and the Neo-Platonists terms of which he found equivalents in the Qur'an or in the writings of the Sufis and Scholastic Theo­logians. All were used for the construction and defence of his own philo­sophy from which he never wavered.

Controversy About His Orthodoxy

There has never been in the whole history of Islam another man whose faith has been so much in question. The controversy over Ibn 'Arabi's ortho­doxy spread far and wide, and occupied the minds of the Muslims for centuries. We may even say that some traces of it are still to be found. Muslim scholars in the past were not concerned with his philosophy or mysticism as such, but with how far his philosophical and mystical ideas were in harmony or dis­harmony with the established dogmas of Islam. Instead of studying him objectively and impartially, and putting him in the place he deserves in the general frame of Muslim history, they spent so much time and energy in trying to prove or disprove his orthodoxy. No work could have been more futile and unrewarding.

The difference of opinion on this subject is enormous. By some Ibn 'Arabi is considered to be one of the greatest figures of Islam as an author and a Sufi, while others regard him as a heretic and impostor. His peculiar style perhaps is largely responsible for this. The ambiguity of his language and complexity of his thoughts render his ideas almost intractable, particularly to those who are not familiar with his intricate ways of expression. He is a writer who pays more attention to ideas and subtle shades of mystical feel­ings than to words. We must, therefore, attempt to grasp the ideas which lie hidden beneath the surface of his conventional terminology. Again, we must not forget that he is a mystic who expresses his ineffable experience - as most mystics do - in enigmatic language. Enigmas are hard to fathom, but they are the external expression of the feelings that lie deep in the heart of the mystic.

People who read Ibn 'Arabi's books with their eyes fixed on the words mis­understand him and misjudge him. It is these who usually charge him with infidelity (kufr) or at least with heresy. Others who grasp his real intention uphold him as a great mystic and a man of God. A third class suspends their judgment on him on the ground that he spoke in a language which is far beyond their ken. They have nothing to say against his moral or religious life, for this, they hold, was beyond reproach.

It seems that the controversy about his religious beliefs started when a certain Jamal al-Din b. al-Khayyat from the Yemen made an appeal to the `ulama' of different parts of the Muslim world asking them to give their opinion on Ibn 'Arabi to whom he attributed what Firuzabadi describes as heretical beliefs and doctrines which are contrary to the consensus of the Muslim community.

The reaction caused by the appeal was extraordinarily varied. Some writers condemned Ibn 'Arabi right out; others defended him with great zeal. Of this latter class we may mention Firuzabadi, Siraj al-Din al­-Makhzumi, al-Siraj al-Balqini, Jalal al-Din al-Suyuti, Qutb al-Din al-Hamawi, al-Qutb al-Shirazi, Fakhr al-Din al-Razi, and many others. Both Makhzumi and Suyuti wrote books on the subject. They could see no fault with Ibn 'Arabi except that he was misunderstood by people who were not of his spiritual rank.

Suyuti puts him in a rank higher than that of Junaid when he says that he was the instructor of the gnostics (`arifin) while Junaid was the instructor of the initiates (muridin). All these men are unanimous in according to Ibn 'Arabi the highest place both in learning and spiritual leadership. They recognize in his writings a perfect balance between Shari’ah (religious Law) and Haqiqah (the true spirit of the Law), or between the esoteric and exoteric aspects of Islam.

The greatest opposition appeared in the eighth and ninth/fourteenth and fifteenth centuries when an open war was declared against speculative Sufism in general and that of Ibn 'Arabi and Ibn al-Farid in particular. The Hanbalite Ibn Taimiyyah (d. 728/ 1328), with his bitter tongue and uncompromising attitude towards the Sufis, led the attack. He put these two great mystics in the same category with Hallaj, Qunawi, Ibn Sab`in, Tilimsani, and Kirmani as men who believed in incarnation and unification. In this respect, he said, they were even worse than the Christians and the extreme Shi`ites.17

He does not even distinguish between the mystical ravings of Hallaj, the deeply emo­tional utterances of Ibn al-Farid, the cold-blooded and almost materialistic pantheism of Tilimsani, and the monistic theology of Ibn 'Arabi. They were all guilty of the abominable doctrines of incarnationism and pantheism. Curiously enough, he was less violent in his criticism of Ibn 'Arabi's doctrine which, he said, was nearer Islam than any of the others.

By far the worst enemy of Ibn 'Arabi and Ibn al-Farid and most insolent towards them was Burhan al-Din Ibrahim al-Biqa'i (d. 858/1454). He devoted two complete books to the refutation of their doctrines, not sparing even their personal characters. In one of these books entitled Tanbih al-Ghabi 'ala Takfir Ibn `Arabi18 (Drawing the Attention of the Ignorant to the Infidelity of Ibn 'Arabi) he says:

“He deceived the true believers by pretending to be one of them. He made his stand on the ground of their beliefs; but gradually dragged them into narrow corners, and led them by seduction to places where perplexing questions are lurking. He is the greatest artist in confusing people; quotes authentic traditions of the Prophet, then twists them around in strange and mysterious ways. Thus, he leads his misguided followers to his ultimate objective which is the complete overthrowing of all religion and religious beliefs. The upholders of such doctrines hide themselves behind an outward appearance of Muslim ritual such as prayer and fasting. They are in fact atheists in the cloaks of monks and ascetics, and veritable heretics under the name of Sufis.”19

These accusations are unjust as they are unfounded. Ibn 'Arabi, it is true, does interpret the Qur'an and Prophetic traditions in an esoteric manner, and he is not the first or the last Sufi to do it, but his ultimate aim is never the abandonment of religious beliefs and practices as Biqa'i maintains. On the contrary, he did his utmost to save Islam which he understood in his own way. The charge of pretence and hypocrisy is contradicted by the bold and fearless language in which Ibn 'Arabi chooses to express himself. He does not pretend to be a Muslim in order to please or avoid the wrath of true believers to whom Biqa`i refers.

He believes that Islam which preaches the principle of the unity of God could be squared with his doctrine of the unity of all Being, and this he openly declares in the strongest terms. He may have deceived himself or expressed the mystical union with God in terms of the metaphysical theory of the unity between God and the phenomenal world, but he certainly tried to deceive no one.

In contrast to Biqa'i's terrible accusations, we should conclude by citing the words of Balqini who had the highest opinion of Ibn 'Arabi. He says

“You.should take care not to deny anything that Shaikh Muhyi al-Din has said, when he - may God have mercy upon him - plunged deep into the sea of gnosis and the verification of truths, mentioned towards the end of his life in the Fusus, the Futuhat, and the Tanazzulat - things which are fully understood only by people of his rank.”

Influence On Future Sufism

Although Ibn 'Arabi was violently attacked by his adversaries for his views which they considered unorthodox, his teachings not only survived the attacks, but exercised the most profound influence on the course of all future Sufism. His admirers in the East, where he spent the greater part of his life, called him al-Shaikh al-Akbar (the Greatest Doctor), a title which has never been conferred on another Sufi since. It pointed to his exceptional qualities both as a great spiritual master and a Sufi author - and it is held to be true of him to this-day. He marks the end of a stage where speculative Sufism reached its culminating point.

The centuries that followed witnessed the rapid spread of Sufi orders all over the Muslim world; and Sufism became the popular form of Islam with much less theory and more ritual and practice. The founders of the.Fraternities were better known for their piety and spiritual leadership than for their speculation. This is why Ibn 'Arabi's theosophy and mystical philosophy remained unchallenged. They were in fact the only source of inspnration to anyone who discoursed on the subject of the Unity of all Being, whether in Arabic-speaking countries or in Persia or Turkey.

Some writers of his own school, such as 'Abd al-Karim al-Jili and 'Abd al-Razzaq al-Kashani, did little more than reproduce his ideas in a different form. Other schools of Sufis were not entirely free of his influence, at least as far as his terminology was concerned. The tremendous commentary of Arusi on Qushairi's Risalah, which is the classical model of Sunni Sufism, abounds with ideas and terms borrowed from Ibn 'Arabi's works.

His influence seems to show itself most markedly in the delightful works of the mystic poets of Persia from the seventh/thirteenth to the ninthififteenth century. 'Iraqi, Shabistari, and Jami were all inspired by him. Their wonderful odes are in many respects an echo of the ideas of the author of the Fusus and the Futuhat, cast into magnificent poetry by the subtle genius of the Persian mind. They overflow with the ideas of divine unity and universal love and beauty.

God is described as the source and ultimate ground of all things. He is for ever revealing Himself in the infinite forms of the phenomenal world. The world is created anew at every moment of time; a continual process of change goes on, with no repetition and no becoming. The divine light illumi­nates all particles of Being, just as the divine names have from eternity illuminated the potential, non-existent realities of things. When these realities become actualized in space and time, they reflect, like mirrors, the divine names which give them their external existence. The phenomenal world is the theatre wherein all the divine names are manifested. Man is the only creature in whom these names are manifested collectively.

These are but a few of the many ideas which the mystic poets of Persia borrowed from Ibn 'Arabi and to which they gave an endless variety of poetical forms. It is said that 'Iraqi wrote his Lama’at after hearing Sadr al-Din Qunawi's lectures on the Fusus, and Jami who commented on the same book wrote his Lawa'ih in the same strain. The following is an extract from `Iraqi's Lama'at which sums up Ibn 'Arabi's theory of the microcosm (man):

“Though Form,” he said, “proclaims me Adam's son,

My true degree a higher place hath won.

When in the glass of Beauty I behold,

The Universe my image doth unfold:

In Heaven's Sun behold me manifest­

Each tiny molecule doth me attest....

Ocean's a drop from my pervading sea,

Light but a flash of my vast Brilliancy:

From Throne to Carpet, all that is doth seem

Naught but a Mote that rides the sunlit Beam.

When Being's Veil of Attributes is shed,

My Splendour o'er a lustrous World is Spread “.20

Doctrines

Unity of All Being

The most fundamental principle which lies at the root of Ibn 'Arabi's whole philosophy, or rather theologico-philosophical and mystical thought, is the principle of the “Unity of All Being” (wahdat al-­wujud). Perhaps the word “pantheism” is not a very happy equivalent, partly because it has particular associations in our minds, and also because it does not express the full significance of the much wider doctrine of the Unity of All Being as understood by our author. From.this primordial conception of the ultimate nature of reality all his theories in other fields of philosophy follow with an appreciable degree of consistency.

Much of the criticism levelled against Ibn 'Arabi's position is due to the misunderstanding of the role which he assigns to God in his system­ - a fact which attracted the attention of even Ibn Taimiyyah, who distinguishes between Ibn 'Arabi's wahdat al-wujud and that of other Muslim pantheists. He says that “Ibn 'Arabi's system is nearer to Islam in so far as he discriminates between the One who reveals Himself and the manifestations thereof, thus establishing the truth of the religious Law and insisting on the ethical and theological principles upon which the former Shaikhs of Islam had insisted.”21 In other words, Ibn Taimiyyah does not wish to put Ibn 'Arabi in the same category with Tilimsani, Isra'ili, and Kirmani whom he condemns as atheists and naturalists.

Ibn 'Arabi's pantheism is not a materialistic view of reality. The external world of sensible objects is but a fleeting shadow of the Real (al-Haqq), God. It is a form of acosmism which denies that the phenomenal has being or mean­ing apart from and independently of God. It is not that cold-blooded pantheism in which the name of God is mentioned for sheer courtesy, or, at the most, for logical necessity or consistency. On the contrary, it is the sort of pantheism in which God swallows up everything, and the so-called other-than-God is reduced to nothing. God alone is the all-embracing and eternal reality. This position is summed up in Ibn 'Arabi's own words

“Glory to Him who created all things, being Himself their very essence ('ainuha)”;

and also in the following verse:

“O Thou Who hast created all things in Thyself,

Thou unitest that which. Thou createst.

Thou createst that which existeth infinitely

In Thee, for Thou art the narrow and the all-embracing.”22

Reality, therefore, is one and indivisible. We speak of God and the world, the One and the many, Unity and multiplicity, and such other terms when we use the language of the senses and the unaided intellect. The intuitive knowledge of the mystic reveals nothing but absolute unity which - curiously enough­ - Ibn 'Arabi identifies with the Muslim doctrine of unification (tauhid). Hence the further and more daring identification of his pantheistic doctrine with Islam as the religion of unification.

“Base the whole affair of your seclusion (khalwah),” he says, “upon facing God with absolute unification which is not marred by any (form of) polytheism, implicit or explicit, and by denying, with absolute conviction, all causes and intermediaries, whole and part, for indeed if you are deprived of such tauhid you will surely fall into polytheism.”23

This, in other words, means that the real tauhid of God is to face Him alone and see nothing else, and declare Him the sole agent of all that exists. But such a view points at once to a fact long overlooked by scholars of Muslim mysticism, i.e., that Muslim pantheism (wahdat al-wujud) is a natural - ­though certainly not a logical - development of the Muslim doctrine of tauhid (unification). It started with the simple belief that “there is no god other than God,” and under deeper consideration of the nature of Godhead, assumed the form of a totally different belief, i. e., there is nothing in existence but God.

In Ibn 'Arabi's case, the absolute unity of God, which is the monotheistic doctrine of Islam, is consistently interpreted to mean the absolute unity of all things in God. The two statements become equivalent, differing only in their respective bases of justification. The former has its root in religious belief or in theological or philosophical reasoning or both; the latter has its final justification in the unitive state of the mystic. We have a glimpse of this tendency in the writings of the early mystics of Islam such as Junaid of Baghdad and Abu Yazid of Bistam, but they speak of wahdat al-shuhud (unity of vision) not of wujud (Being), and attempt to develop no philosophical system in any way comparable to that of Ibn 'Arabi's.

It is sufficiently clear now that according to Ibn 'Arabi reality is an essential unity - substance in Spinoza's sense; but it is also a duality in so far as it has two differentiating attributes: Haqq (God) and khalq (universe). It can be regarded from two different aspects. In itself it is the undifferentiated and Absolute Being which transcends all spatial and temporal relations. It is a bare monad of which nothing can be predicated or known, if by knowledge we mean the apprehension of a thing through our senses and discursive reason. To know in this sense is to determine that which is known; and determination is a form of limitation which is contrary to the nature of the Absolute. The Absolute Monad is the most indeterminate of all indeterminates (ankar al-­nakirat); the thing-in-itself (al-shai) as Ibn 'Arabi calls it.

On the other hand, we can view reality as we know it; and we know it invested with divine names and attributes. In other words, we know it in the multiplicity of its manifestations which make up what we call the phenomenal world. So, by knowing ourselves and the phenomenal world in general, we know reality of which they are particular modes.

In Ibn 'Arabi's own words “we” - and this goes for the phenomenal world as well - “are the names by which God describes Himself.” We are His names, or His external aspects. Our essences are His essence and this constitutes His internal aspect. Hence reality is One and many; Unity and multiplicity; eternal and temporal; transcendent and immanent. It is capable of receiving and uniting in itself all conceivable opposites.

Abu Said a1-Kharraz (d. 277/890) had already dis­covered this truth when he said that God is known only by uniting all the opposites which are attributed to him. “He is called the First and the Last: the External and the Internal. He is the Essence of what is manifested and of that which remains latent.... The Inward says no when the Outward says I am; and the Outward says no when the Inward says I am, and so in the case of every pair of contraries. The speaker is One, and He is identical with the Hearer.”24

Thus, Ibn 'Arabi's thought goes on moving within that closed circle which knows no beginning and no end. His thought is circular because reality as he envisages it is circular. Every point on the circle is potentially the whole of the circle and is capable of manifesting the whole. Looking at the points with an eye on the centre of the circle (the divine essence), we can say that each point is identical with the essence in one respect, different from it in another respect. This explains the verbal contradictions with which Ibn 'Arabi's books abound.

Sometimes he comes nearer the philosophers than the mystics when he explains the relation between God and the universe. Here we have theories reminiscent of the Platonic theory of ideas and the Ishraqi doctrine of intelligible existence (al-wujud al-dhihni) and the scholastic theory of the identification of substance and accidents (the theory of the Ash`arites).

“Before coming into existence,” he says, “things of the phenomenal world were poten­tialities in the bosom of the Absolute.” They formed the contents of the mind of God as ideas of His future becoming. These intelligible realities are what he calls “the fixed prototypes of things” (al-a`yan al-thabitah). God's knowledge of them is identical with His knowledge of Himself.

It is a state of self-revelation or self-consciousness, in which God saw (at no particular point of time) in Himself these determinate “forms” of His own essence. But they are also latent states of His mind. So they are both intelligible ideas in the divine mind as well as particular modes of the divine essence. Hence the a’yan al-thabitah are identified, on the one hand, with the quiddity (mahiyyah) of things, and, on the other hand, with their essence (huwiyyah). The former explains the first aspect of the a’yan as ideas; the latter, their second aspect as essential modes.

He calls them non-existent in the sense that they have no external existence, on the one hand, and no existence apart from the divine essence, on the other. They are the prototypes and causes of all external existents because they are the potential relations between the divine names as well as the potential modes of the divine essence. When these potentialities become actualities we have the so-called external world. Yet, there is no real becoming, and no becoming in space and time. The process goes on from eternity to everlastingness.

This complicated relation between the One and the many is nowhere syste­matically explained in Ibn 'Arabi's works, not even in the Fusus. A certain formal dialectic can be detected in the Fusus where the author attempts to explain his metaphysical theory of reality, but the thread of the formal reason­ing is often interrupted by outbursts of mystic emotion. Ibn 'Arabi is essen­tially a mystic, and in the highest degree a dreamer and fantast as we have already observed. He often uses symbols and similes in expressing the relation between the multiplicity of the phenomenal world and their essential unity.

The One reveals Himself in the many, he says, as an object is revealed in different mirrors, each mirror reflecting an image determined by its nature and its capacity as a recipient. Or it is like a source of light from which an infinite number of lights are derived. Or like a substance which penetrates and permeates the forms of existing objects: thus, giving them their meaning and being. Or it is like a mighty sea on the surface of which we observe count­less waves for ever appearing and disappearing. The eternal drama of existence is nothing but this ever-renewed creation (al-khalq al-jadid) which is in reality a perpetual process of self-revelation. Or again, he might say, the One is the real Being and the phenomenal world is its shadow having no reality in itself.

But beautiful as they are, such similes are very ambiguous and highly mis­leading. They are at least suggestive of a duality of two beings: God and the universe, in a system which admits only an absolute unity. Duality and multiplicity are illusory. They are due to our incapacity to perceive the essential unity of things. But this oscillation between unity and duality is due to confusing the epistemic side of the issue with its ontological side.

Ontologically, there is but one reality. Epidemically, there are two aspects: a reality which transcends the phenomenal world, and a multiplicity of sub­jectivities that find their ultimate explanation in the way we view reality as we know it. To our limited senses and intellects the external world undergoes a process of perpetual change and transformation. We call this creation but it is in fact a process of self-unveiling of the One Essence which knows no change.

Notion of Deity

In spite of his metaphysical theory of the nature of reality, Ibn 'Arabi finds a place for God in his system. His pantheism, like that of Spinoza, is to be distinguished from the naturalistic philosophy of the Stoics and the materialistic atheists. God that figures in his metaphysics as an unknowable and incommunicable reality, beyond thought and descrip­tion, appears in his theology as the object of belief, love, and worship. The warmth of religious sentiment displayed in his writings attaches itself to his conception of God in the latter sense which comes close to the monotheistic conception of Islam. Indeed he tries his utmost to reconcile the two concep­tions; but his God is not in the strict religious sense confined to Islam or any other creed. He is not the ethical and personal God of religion, but the essence of all that is worshipped and loved in all religions

“God has ordained that ye shall worship naught but Him. “25

This is interpreted by Ibn 'Arabi to mean that God has decreed that nothing is actually worshipped except Him. This is an open admission of all kinds of worship, so long as the worshippers recognize God behind the external “forms” of their gods. They call their gods by this or that name, but the Gnostic (al-‘arif) calls his God “Allah” which is the most universal of all names of God. Particular objects of worship are creations of men's minds, but God, the Absolute, is uncreated. We should not, therefore, confine God to any particular form of belief to the exclusion of other forms, but acknowledge Him in all forms alike. To limit Him to one form - as the Christians have done - is infidelity (kufr); and to acknowledge Him in all forms is the spirit of true religion.

This universal religion which preaches that all worshipped objects are forms of One Supreme Deity is the logical corollary of Ibn 'Arabi's meta­physical theory that reality is ultimately one. But it has its deep roots in mysti­cism rather than in logic. It is nowhere better expressed than in the following verse:

“People have different beliefs about God

But I behold all that they believe.”26

And the verse:

“My heart has become the receptacle of every 'form';

It is a pasture for gazelles and a convent for Christian monks.

And a temple for idols, and pilgrims' Ka'bah,

And the Tablets of the Torah, and the Book of the Qur'an.

I follow the religion of love whichever way its camels take,

For this is my religion and my faith.”27

So, all paths lead to one straight path which leads to God. It would be a gross mistake to think that Ibn 'Arabi approves of the worship of stones and stars and other idols, for these as far as his philosophy is concerned are non-existent or mere fabrications of the human mind. The real God is not a tangible object; but one who reveals Himself in the heart of the gnostic. There alone He is beheld.

This shows that Ibn 'Arabi's theory of religion is mystical and not strictly philosophical. It has its root in his much wider theory of divine love. The ultimate goal of all mysticism is love; and in Ibn 'Arabi's mystical system in particular, it is the full realization of the union of the lover and the Beloved. Now, if we look deeply into the nature of worship, we find that love forms its very basis. To worship is to love in the extreme. No object is worshipped unless it is invested with some sort of love; for love is the divine principle which binds things together and pervades all beings. This means that the highest manifestation in which God is worshipped is love. In other words, universal love and universal worship are two aspects of one and the same fact. The mystic who sees God (the Beloved) in everything worships Him in everything. This is summed up in the following verse

“I swear by the reality of Love that Love is the Cause of all love.

Were it not for Love (residing) in the heart, Love (God) would not be worshipped.”28

This is because Love is the greatest object of worship. It is the only thing that is worshiped for its own sake. Other things are worshiped through it.

God, as an object of worship, therefore, resides in the heart as the supreme object of love. He is not the efficient cause of the philosophers or the transcen­dent God of the Mu'tazilites. He is in the heart of His servant and is nearer to him than his jugular vein.29 “My heaven and my earth contain Me not,” says the Prophetic tradition, “but I am contained in the heart of My servant who is a believer.”

God and Man

It was Husain b. Mansur al-Hallaj (d. 309/922) who first laid down the foundation for the theory that came to be known in the writings of Ibn 'Arabi and 'Abd al-Karim al-Jili as the Theory of the Perfect Man. In the final form in which Ibn 'Arabi cast it, it played a very important role in the history of Muslim mysticism. Hallaj's theory was a theory of incarnation based on the Jewish tradition which states that “God created Adam in His own image” - a tradition which the Sufis attributed to the Pro­phet.

He distinguished between two natures in man: the divine (al-lahut), and the human (al-nasut). The two natures are not united but fused, the one into the other, as wine is fused into water. Thus for the first time in the history of Islam a divine aspect of man was recognized, and man was regarded as a unique creature not to be compared with any other creature on account of his divinity.

The Hallajian idea was taken up by Ibn 'Arabi, but completely transformed and given wider application. First, the duality of lahut and nasut became a duality of aspects of one reality, not of two independent natures. Secondly, they were regarded as actually present not only in man but in everything what­ever; the nasut being the external aspect of a thing, the lahut, its internal aspect. But God who reveals Himself in all phenomenal existence is revealed in a most perfect and complete way in the form of the perfect man, who is best represented by prophets and saints.

This forms the main theme of the Fusus al-Hikam and al-Tadbirat al-Ilahiyyah of Ibn 'Arabi, but many of its aspects are dealt with in his Futuhat and other works. Each one of the twenty ­seven chapters of the Fusus is devoted to a prophet who is both a Logos (kali­mah) of God and a representative of one of the divine names. They are also cited as examples of the perfect man. The Logos par excellence is the Prophet Muhammad or rather the reality of Muhammad, as we shall see later.

So man in general - and the perfect man in particular - is the most perfect manifestation of God. The universe which, like a mirror, reflects the divine attributes and names in a multiplicity of forms, manifests them separately or analytically. Man alone manifests these attributes and names collectively or synthetically. Hence he is called the microcosm and the honoured epitome (al-mukhtasar al-sharif) and the most universal being (al-kaun al-jami'), who comprises all realities and grades of existence. In him alone the divine pre­sence is reflected, and through him alone God becomes conscious of Himself and His perfection. Here are Ibn 'Arabi's own words:

“God, glory to Him, in respect of His most beautiful names, which are beyond enumeration, willed to see their a'yan (realities), or if you wish you may say, His (own) 'ayn, in a Universal Being which contains the whole affair - inasmuch as it is endowed with all aspects of existence - and through which (alone) His mystery is revealed to Himself: for a vision which consists in a thing seeing itself by means of itself is not the same as that of the thing seeing something else which serves as a mirror... Adam was the very essence of the polishing of this mirror, and the spirit of this form (i.e., the form in which God has revealed Himself: which is man).”30

Here Ibn 'Arabi almost repeats the words of Hallaj who says:

“God looked into eternity, prior to all things, contemplated the essence of His splendour, and then desired to project outside Himself His supreme joy and love with the object of speaking to them. He also created an image of Himself with all His attributes and names. This image was Adam whom God glorified and exalted.”31

Yet, the difference between the two, thinkers is so fundamental. Hallaj is an incarnationist; Ibn 'Arabi, a pantheist. On man as the microcosm he says:

“The spirit of the Great Existent (the Universe)

Is this small existent (man).

Without it God would not have said:

'I am the greatest and the omnipotent.'

Let not my contingency veil thee,

Or my death or resurrection,

For if thou examinest me,

I am the great and the all-embracing.

The eternal through my essence,

And the temporal are manifested. “32

This is why man deserves the high honour and dignity of being God's vice­gerent on earth - a rank which God has denied all other creatures including the angels. This superior rank goes not to every individual man, for some men are even lower than the beasts, but to the perfect man alone, and this for two reasons:

a) He is a perfect manifestation of God in virtue of unity in himself, of all God's attributes and names.

b) He knows God absolutely through realizing in some sort of experience his essential oneness with Him.

Here Ibn 'Arabi's metaphysical theory of man coincides with the theory of mysticism.

Ethical and Religious Implications

We have already pointed out that Ibn 'Arabi's pantheistic theory of the nature of reality is the pivot round which the whole of his system of thought turns. Some aspects of this philo­sophy have been explained; and it remains now to show its bearing on his attitude towards man's ethical and religious life.

Everything in Ibn `Arabi's world is subject to rigid determinism. On the ontological side we have seen that phenomenal objects are regarded as the external manifestations of their latent realities and determined by their own laws. Everything is what it is from eternity and nothing can change it, not even God Himself. “What you are in your state of latency (thubut) is what you will be in your realized existence (zuhur),” is the fundamental law of existence. It is self-determinism or self-realization in which freedom plays no part either in God's actions or in those of His creatures.

Moral and religious phenomena are no exception. God decrees things in the sense that He knows them as they are in their latent states, and pre-judges that they should come out in the forms in which He knows them. So He decrees nothing which lies outside their nature. This is the mystery of predestination (sirr al-qadar).33

Belief and unbelief, sinful and lawful actions, are all determined in this sense and it is in this sense also that men are the makers of their own destiny for which, Ibn 'Arabi says, they are responsible. “We are not unjust to them,” says God, “but it is they who are unjust to themselves.” “I am not unjust to My servants.”34

On this Ibn 'Arabi comments as follows: “I (God) did not ordain infidelity (kufr) which dooms them to misery, and then demand of them that which lies not in their power. Nay, I deal with them only as I know them, and I know them only as they are in themselves. Hence if there be injustice they are the unjust. Similarly, I say to them nothing except that which My essence has decreed that I should say; and My essence is known to Me as it is in respect of My saying this or not saying that. So I say nothing except what I know that I should say. It is Mine to say, and it is for them to obey or not to obey after hearing My command.”35

There is, therefore, a difference between obeying one's own nature and obeying the religious command, a distinction which was made long before Ibn 'Arabi by Hallaj. On the one hand, all men - indeed all creatures - obey their own law which he calls the creative law (al-amr al-takwini). On the other, some obey and others disobey the religious Law (al-amr al-taklifi). The first is in accordance with God's creative will (al-mashiyyah) which brings things into existence in the forms in which they are eternally predetermined. The second is something imposed from without for some ulterior reason, ethical, religious, or social.

Everything obeys the creative commands in res­ponse to its own nature, and by so doing obeys God's will, regardless of whether this obedience is also obedience or disobedience to the religious or ethical command. When Pharaoh disobeyed God and Iblis (Satan) refused the divine command to prostrate himself before Adam, they were in fact obeying the creative command and carrying out the will of God, although from the point of view of the religious command they were disobedient. To express the same thing in different words, an action-in-itself, i. e., irrespective of any form whatever, is neither good nor evil, neither religious nor irreligious. It is just an action pure and simple. It comes under one or another of these categories when it is judged by religious or ethical standards.

The whole theory reduces obedience and disobedience in the religious sense to a mere formality, and denies moral and religious obligations. It tells us that man is responsible for his actions, but affirms that he is not a free agent to will his actions. Responsibility and complete absence of freedom do not go together. Theoretically, there are different alternatives out of which man may choose his actions, but according to this theory he is so created that he chooses the only alternative which is determined by his own necessary laws. So he actually chooses nothing and has no more freedom than a stone falling down to the earth in obedience to its own law.

Thus, we go on moving within that closed circle of thought which is so typical of Ibn 'Arabi's reasoning. He has one eye on his pantheistic doctrine with all that it entails, and the other on Islamic teachings, and oscillates between the two all the time. His pantheistic doctrine implies that God is the Ultimate Agent of all actions, and Islam insists on the moral and reli­gious responsibility of man for his actions. The two conflicting points of view cannot be reconciled, and Ibn 'Arabi's way of reconciling them is full of paradoxes.

He is more consistent when he says that all actions are created by God and there is no real difference between the Commander and the command­ed.36 There is no real servantship (`ubudiyyah), for the servant is one who carries out the commands of his master. But in reality the servant of God is a mere locus (mahall) through which God's creative power acts. So the servant is the Lord and the Lord is the servant.37

This seems to contradict what we have already said, i, e., that, according to Ibn 'Arabi, actions belong to man and spring directly from his nature in a determined way. Actually, there is no contradiction when we think of the distinction he makes between the One and the many. In fact, all his paradoxes can be solved when considered in the light of this distinction. When he says that God is the doer of all actions, he is regarding the question from the point of view of the One, for God's essence is the essence of men to whom actions are attributed. And when he asserts that men are the doers of their actions, he is regarding the question from the point of view of the many.

Having reduced obligation, obedience, disobedience; and similar other con­cepts to mere formal relations, it was natural enough for him to give the concepts of punishment and reward a positive content. Heaven and hell and all the eschatological matters connected with them are described in the. minutest details, but no sooner does he give a constructive picture of one of them than he uses his allegorical method of interpretation to explain it away.

His method bears some remarkable resemblance to that of the Isma’ilians and the Carmathians, used for the same purpose. All eschatological terms such as punishment, reward, purgatory, the Balance, the Bridge, intercession, heaven, hell, and so on, are regarded as representations of states of man, and corporealizations of ideas. What we learn from Tradition, he says, are words, and it is left to us to find out what is meant by them,38 i.e., to read into them whatever meaning we please.

This is precisely what Ibn 'Arabi him­self has done. Heaven and hell, according to him, are subjective states, not objective realities. Hell is the realization of the individual “self”; it is self­hood. Heaven is the realization of the essential unity of all things. There is no real difference between the two. If any, the difference is one of degree, not of kind. Salvation is the ultimate end of all. Speaking of the people of hell and heaven, Ibn 'Arabi says: -

“Nothing remains but the Fulfiller of Promise alone;

The threat of God has no object to be seen.

When they enter the Abode of Misery they experience

Pleasure wherein lies a bliss so different

From that of the Gardens of Everlastingness.

It is all the same: the difference is felt at the beatific vision.”39

This means that when the truth is known and God reveals Himself as He really is, everyone, whether in heaven or in hell, will know his position, i.e., will know how near or how far he is from the truth. Those who fully realize their essential oneness with God are the blessed ones who will go to paradise. Those who are veiled from the truth are the damned ones who will go to hell. But both parties will enjoy in their respective abodes happiness proportionate to their degree of knowledge.

Conclusion

In the foregoing pages an attempt has been made to give a bird's-eye view of a tremendously vast field. We have concentrated on the most important features of Ibn 'Arabi's life and thought; many important facts have of necessity been omitted for lack of space. If Ibn 'Arabi experienced - as we must assume he did - some sort of strain while writing his mystical philosophy, we are placed under greater strain while writing about him. There is more than one way of interpreting his ideas and fathoming his intricate and obscure style. This makes it possible for scholars to give not only different but conflicting accounts of his teachings.

The present account deals with him as a thorough-going pantheist who tried his best to reconcile his pantheistic doctrine with Islam. In doing so he had to read new meanings into the tradi­tional Muslim concepts, and change Islam from a positive into a mystic religion. It is true he never lost sight of the idea of Godhead, but his God is not the transcendent God of revealed religions, but the Absolute Being who manifests Himself in every form of existence, and in the highest degree in the form of man.

People may agree or disagree with some of his theories, but the fact re­mains that in production and influence he is the greatest Arabic-speaking mystic Islam has ever produced. It has been said that he has annulled religion in the orthodox sense in which it is usually understood. This is not altogether true. He has done away with a good many concepts which were so narrowly understood by Muslim jurists and theologians, and offered in their place other concepts which are much deeper in their spirituality and more compre­hensive than those of any of his Muslim predecessors. His ideas about the universality of everything - being, love, religion - may be considered land­marks in the history of human thought.

Bibliography

Ibn 'Arabi, Futuhat al-Makkiyyah; Fusus al-Hikam; Risalat al-Khalwah, MS. India Office, London; Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, ed. R. A. Nicholson, London, 1911;

Ibn al-Jauzi, Mir'at;

Ibn Taimiyyah, Rasa'il;

al-Sha'rani, al-Yawaqit w-al­ Jawahir, Cairo;

Qutubi, Fawat al-Wafayat;

Jami, Nafahat al-Uns;

Hammer­-Purgstall, Literaturgeschichte d. Araber;

Von Kremer, Gesch. der herrsch. Ideen des Islams;

R. A. Nicholson, “The Lives of 'Umar Ibn al-Farid and Ibn al-'Arabi,” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 1906; A Literary History of the Arabs; The Mystics of Islam. London, 1914;

M. Schreiner, Beitr. z. Gesch. d. Theol. Bewegungen im Islam in Zeitschr. d. Deutsch. Morg. Gesellsch;

Asin Palacios, La psicilogia segun Mohidin Abenarabi in Actes du XVI Congres intern. des Orient, Algier, 1905;

Goldziher, Vorlesungen;

Macdonald, Development of Muslim Theology, Jurisprudence and Constitutional Theory;

A. J. Arberry, Sufism, London, 1950.

Notes

1. Futuhat al-Makkiyyah, Vol.1, p.327.

2. Ibid., p.199.

3. Qutubi, Fawat al-Wafayat, Vol. II, p. 301

4. Brockelmann, GAL, Vol. I, p. 44

5. Yawaqit, p.10.

6. Nafahat, p.634.

7. Published in the Bulletin of the Faculty of Arts, Alexandria, Vol. VII, December 1954, by A.E. Affifi.

8. Yawaqit, p.3.

9. Futuhat, Vol.II, p.646, and Maqqari, p.407. The translation is by E.G. Browne, Literary History of Persia, Vol.II, p.499.

10. Introd. to the Com. on the Tarjuman.

11. Fusus al-Hikam, p.47

12. See Ibn `Arabi's works in the light of a memorandum by A. E. Affifi, Bulletin of the Faculty of Arts, Vol. VIII, pp. 112f.

13. Quoted by Sha’rani, Yawaqit, p.24.

14. Ibid.

15. Fusus, p.66.

16. Futuhat, Vol.I, pp.47, 48.

17. Ibn Taymiyyah, Rasa’il, Vol.I, pp.166, 167.

18. MS. in the special collection of Ahmad Dhaki Paasha, Cairo

19. Ibid.

20. A.J. Arberry, Sufism, pp. 102-03.

21. Rasa’il, Vol.I, p.167.

22. Fusus, p.88.

23. Risalat al-Khalwah, MS. India Office, London

24. Fusus, p.77.

25. Qur’an, xvii, 24.

26. Futuhat, Vol.III, p.175.

27. Tarjuman al-Ashwaq, pp.30-40.

28. Fusus, p.194.

29. Qur’an, L, 16

30. Fusus, p.48.

31. Tawasin, p.130.

32. Fusus, p.152.

33. Ibid., p.131.

34. Qur’an, xxii , 10.

35. Fusus, p.131.

36. Futuhat, Vol.II, p.286.

37. Fusus, p.92.

38. Futuhat, Vol.I, p.412, ll, 4ff.

39. Fusus, p.94.

Chapter 10: Mu’tazalism

Mu’tazilism by Mir Valiuddin, M.A Ph.D., Professor of Philosophy, Osmania University, Hyderabad Deccan (India)

The General Mu’tazilite Position

Subsequent to the times of the Companions of the Prophet of Islam, the Mu'tazilah creed made its appearance. It had its inception nearly two centuries after the migration (Hijrah) of the Holy Prophet to Madinah. The Mu'tazilites were thoroughgoing rationalists. They believed that the arbiter of whatever is revealed has to be theoretical reason.

Let us for a moment consider why the Mu'tazilites were so named. The story goes that one day Imam al‑Hasan al‑Basri was imparting instruction to his pupils in a mosque. Before the lessons were finished someone turned up and addressed him thus:

“Now, in our own times a sect1 of people has made its appearance, the mem­bers of which regard the perpetrator of a grave sin as an unbeliever and consider him outside the fold of Islam. Yet another group of people have appeared2 who give hope of salvation to the perpetrator of a grave sin. They lay down that such a sin can do no harm to a true believer. They do not in the least regard action as a part of faith and hold that as worship is of no use to one who is an unbeliever, so also sin can do no harm to one who is a believer in God. What, in your opinion, is the truth and what creed should we adopt?”

Imam al‑Hasan al‑Basri was on the point of giving a reply to this query when a long‑necked pupil of his got up and said: “The perpetrator of grave sins is neither a complete unbeliever nor a perfect believer; he is placed mid­way between unbelief and faith‑an intermediate state (manzilah bain al‑manzilatain).”

Having spoken he strode to another corner of the mosque and began to explain this belief of his to others.3 This man was Wasil ibn `Ata. The Imam shot a swift glance at him and said, “I’tazala `anna,” i. e.,”He has withdrawn from us.” From that very day Wasil and his followers were called al‑Mu'tazilah, the Withdrawers or Secessionists.

Ibn Munabbih says that the title of al‑Mu'tazilah came into vogue after the death of al‑Hasan al‑Basri. According to his statement, when al-Hasan passed away, Qatadah succeeded him and continued his work. `Amr ibn `Ubaid and his followers avoided the company of Qatadah; therefore, they were given the name of al‑Mu'tazilah.

In brief, the word i'tizal means to withdraw or secede, and the Mu'tazilites are the people who in some of their beliefs were diametri­cally opposed to the unanimous consent of the early theologians or the People of the Approved Way (ahl al‑sunnah). The leader of all of them was Wasil b. `Ata who was born in 80/699 at Madinah and died in 131/748.

Muslims generally speak of Wasil's party as the Mu'tazilites, but the latter call themselves People of Unity and Justice (ahl al‑tawhid wal `adl). By justice they imply that it is incumbent on God to requite the obedient for their good deeds and punish the sinners for their misdeeds. By unity they imply the denial of the divine attributes.

Undoubtedly, they admit that God is knowing, powerful, and seeing, but their intellect does not allow them to admit that these divine attributes are separate and different from the divine essence. The reason for this view of theirs is that if the attributes of God are not considered to be identical with the essence of God, “plurality of eternals” would necessarily result and the belief in unity would have to be given up. This, in their opinion, is clear unbelief (kufr). Unity and justice are the basic principles of the beliefs of the Mu'tazilites and this is the reason why they call themselves “People of Unity and Justice.”

Now, from the basic beliefs of unity and justice a few more beliefs necessarily follow as corollaries:

1. God Almighty's justice necessitates that man should be the author of his own acts; then alone can he be said to be free and responsible for his deeds. The same was claimed by the Qadarites. The Mu'tazilites accepted totally the theory of indeterminism and became true successors of the Qadarites.

If man is not the author of his own acts and if these acts are the creation of God, how can he be held responsible for his acts and deserve punishment for his sins? Would it not be injustice on the part of God that, after creating a man helpless, He should call him to account for his sins and send him to hell?

Thus, all the Mu'tazilites agree in the matter of man's being the creator of his volitional acts. He creates some acts by way of mubasharah and some by way of tawlid. By the term tawlid is implied the necessary occurrence of an­other act from an act of the doer, e.g., the movement of Zaid's finger necessitates the movement of his ring. Although he does not intend to move the ring, yet he alone will be regarded as the mover.

Of course, to perform this act the medium of another act is necessary. Man creates guidance or misguidance for himself by way of mubasharah and his success or failure resulting from this is created by way of tawlid. God is not in the least concerned in creating it, nor has God's will anything to do with it.

In other words, if a man is regarded as the author of his own acts, it would mean that it is in his power either to accept Islam and be obedient to God, or become an unbeliever and commit sins, and that God's will has nothing to do with these acts of his. God, on the other hand, wills that all created beings of His should embrace Islam and be obedient to Him. He orders the same to take place and prohibits people from committing sins.

Since man is the author of his own acts, it is necessary for God to reward him for his good deeds and this can be justly claimed by him. As al‑Shahras­tani puts it: “The Mu'tazilites unanimously maintain that man decides upon and creates his acts, both good and evil; that he deserves reward or punishment in the next world for what he does. In this way the Lord is safe­guarded from association with any evil or wrong or any act of unbelief or transgression. For if He created the wrong, He would be wrong, and if He created justice, He would be just.”4

It is the creed of most of the Mu'tazilites that one possesses “ability” before the accomplishment of the act, but some Mu'tazilites (e. g., Muhammad b. `Isa and Abu `Isa Warraq) like the Sunnites are of the view that one has ability to act besides the act.

2. The justice of God makes it incumbent upon Him not to do anything contrary to justice and equity. It is the unanimous verdict of the Mu'tazilites that the wise can only do what is salutary (al‑salah) and good, and that God's wisdom always keeps in view what is salutary for His servants; therefore, He cannot be cruel to them. He cannot bring into effect evil deeds. He cannot renounce that which is salutary. He cannot ask His servants to do that which is impossible. Further, reason also suggests that God does not place a burden on any creature greater than it can bear.

According to the Mu'tazilites, things are not good or evil because God de­clares them to be so. No, God makes the distinction between good and evil on account of their being good and evil. Goodness or evil are innate in the essence of things themselves. This very goodness or evil of things is the cause of the commands and prohibitions of the Law.

The human intellect is capable of perceiving the goodness and evil of a few things and no laws are required to express their goodness and evil, e. g., it is commendable to speak the truth and despicable to commit oneself to untruth. This shows that the evil and goodness of things are obvious and require no proof from the Shari`ah. Shameful and unjust deeds are evil in themselves; therefore, God has banned indul­gence in them. It does not imply that His putting a ban on them made them shameful and unjust deeds.

The thoroughgoing rationalism of the Mu'tazilites is thus expressed by al‑Shahrastani in these words: “The adherents of justice say: All objects of knowledge fall under the supervision of reason and receive their obligatory power from rational insight. Consequently, obligatory gratitude for divine bounty precedes the orders given by (divine) Law; and beauty and ugliness are qualities belonging intrinsically to what is beautiful and ugly.”5

From the second principle of the Mu'tazilites, the unity of God, the following beliefs necessarily result as corollaries:

1. Denial of the beatific vision. The Mu'tazilites hold that vision is not possible without place and direction. As God is exempt from place and direction, therefore, a vision of Him is possible neither in this world nor in the hereafter.

2. Belief that the Qur'an is a created speech of Allah. It was held by them that the Qur'an is an originated work of God and it came into existence to­gether with the prophethood of the Prophet of Islam.

3. God's pleasure and anger, not attributes, but states. According to the Mu'tazilites, God's pleasure and anger should not be regarded as His attributes, because anger and pleasure are states and states are mutable, the essence of God is immutable. They should be taken as heaven and hell.

The following is the summary of some more beliefs of the Mu'tazilites:

1. Denial of punishment and reward meted out to the dead in the grave and the questioning by the angels Munkar and Nakir.

2. Denial of the indications of the Day of Judgment, of Gog and Magog (Yajuj and Majuj), and of the appearance of the Antichrist (al‑Dajjal).

3. Some Mu'tazilites believe in the concrete reality of the Balance (al‑Mizan) for weighing actions on the Day of Judgment. Some say that it is impossible for it to be a reality and think that the mention made in the Qur'an of weight and balance means only this much that full justice will be done on the Day of Judgment.

It is clearly impossible to elicit the meanings of the words weight and balance literally, for deeds, which have been said to be weighed, are accidents and it is not possible to weigh accidents. Theoretical reason is in­capable of comprehending this. Substances alone can possess weight. Further, when nothing is hidden from God, what is the use of weighing the deeds? It has been mentioned in the Qur'an that the books of bad or good deeds will be handed over to us. This too is merely a metaphor. It means only our being gifted with knowledge.

4. The Mu'tazilites also deny the existence of the Recording Angels (Kiraman Katibin). The reason they give for this is that God is well aware of all the deeds done by His servants. The presence of the Recording Angels would have been indispensable if God were not acquainted directly with the doings of His servants.

5. The Mu'tazilites also deny the physical existence of the “Tank” (al‑Hawd), and the “Bridge” (al‑sirat). Further, they do not admit that heaven and hell exist now, but believe that they will come into existence on the Day of Judgment.

6. They deny the Covenant (al‑Mithaq). It is their firm belief that God neither spoke to any prophet, angel, or supporter of the Divine Throne, nor will He cast a glance towards them.

7. For the Mu'tazilites, deeds together with verification (tasdiq) are included in faith. They hold that a great sinner will always stay in hell.

8. They deny the miracles (al‑karamat) of saints (awliya’), for, if admitted, they would be mixed up with the evidentiary miracles of the prophets and cause confusion. The same was the belief of the Jahmites too.

9. The Mu'tazilites also deny the Ascension (al‑Mi'raj) of the Prophet of Islam, because its proof is based on the testimony of individual traditions, which necessitates neither act nor belief; but they do not deny the Holy Pro­phet's journey as far as Jerusalem.

10. According to them, the one who prays is alone entitled to reap the reward of a prayer; whatever its form, its benefit goes to no one else.

11. As the divine decree cannot be altered, prayers serve no purpose at all. One gains nothing by them, because if the object, for which prayers are offered, is in conformity with destiny, it is needless to ask for it, and if the object conflicts with destiny, it is impossible to secure it.

12. They generally lay down that the angels who are message‑bearers of God to prophets are superior in rank to the human messengers of God to mankind, i. e., the prophets themselves.

13. According to them, reason demands that an Imam should necessarily be appointed over the ummah (Muslim community).

14. For them, the mujtahid (the authorized interpreter of the religious Law) can never be wrong in his view, as against the opinion of the Ash`arite scholas­tics that “the mujtahid sometimes errs and sometimes hits the mark.”

The Mu'tazilites and the Sunnites differ mostly from one another in five important matters:

(1) The problem of attributes.

(2) The problem of the beatific vision.

(3) The problem of promise and threat.

(4) The problem of creation of the actions of man.

(5) The problem of the will of God.

Ibn Hazm says in his Milal wa’l‑Nihal that whosoever believes (1) that the Qur'an is uncreated, (2) that all the actions of man are due to divine decree, and (3) that man will be blessed with the vision of God on the Day of Judg­ment, and (4) admits the divine attributes mentioned in the Qur'an and the Tradition, and (5) does not regard the perpetrator of a grave sin as an unbeliever, will not be styled as one of the Mu'tazilites, though in all other matters he may agree with them.

This statement of Ibn Hazm shows that the Mu'tazilites were a group of rationalists who judged all Islamic beliefs by theoretical reason and renounced those that relate to all that lies beyond the reach of reason. They hardly realized the fact that reason, like any other faculty with which man is gifted, has its limitations and cannot be expected to comprehend reality in all its details. The point does not need elaboration. As Shakespeare puts it, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philo­sophy.”

Some modern thinkers have recognized that there is a place for intuition in the field of comprehension and, as a corollary to this, have admitted the claim of revelation or wahi as a source of knowledge. That is why Iqbal exclaimed

“At the dawn of Life the Angel said to me

`Do not make thy heart a mere slave to reason.”'

And probably on a similar ground Iqbal's guide, Rumi, offered the following meaningful advice

“Surrender thy intellect to the Prophet!

God sufficeth. Say, He sufficeth.

Beware of wilful reasoning,

And boldly welcome madness!

He alone is mad who madness scoffs,

And heeds not the agent of Law!”

Some leading Mu’tazilites

In presenting a bird's‑eye view of the beliefs of the Mu'tazilites in the above paragraphs, it has not been suggested that these views were in their totality shared by all the leading Mu'tazilites. There were differences of opinion within themselves. For instance, Abu al‑Hudhail al‑`Allaf differed from his companions in respect of ten problems; Ibrahim ibn Sayyar al‑Nazzam in thirteen; Bishr ibn al‑Mu'tamir in six; Mu'ammar ibn Khayyat `Abbad al‑Sulami in four; and `Amr ibn Bahr al‑Jahiz, in five. Abu al‑Husain and his followers are called the “Mu'tazilites of Baghdad” and Abu al‑Jubba'i, his son Abu Hashim, and their followers were known as the “Mu'tazilites of Basrah.” Below is given a brief account of the lives and ideas of some of the leading Mu'tazilites.

1. Wasil ibn ` Ata

Wasil was born at Madinah in 80/699 and was brought up in Basrah. “Suq‑i Ghazzal,” a bazaar in Basrah, used to be his familiar haunt and on that account people associated its name with him. He died in 131/748. Wasil had a very long neck. Amr ibn `Ubaid, who was a celebrated Mu'tazilite, on looking at him once remarked: “There will be no good in a man who has such a neck.”6 Wasil was althagh,7 i.e., he could not pronounce the letter r correctly, but he was a very fluent and accomplished speaker and in his talk totally avoided this letter.

He never allowed it to escape his lips, despite the great difficulty in avoiding it in conversation. He compiled a voluminous treatise in which not a single r is to be found. He would often maintain silence which led people to believe that he was mute.

Wasil was a pupil of Abu Hashim `Abd Allah ibn Muhammad ibn al‑Hanafiy­yah, but in the matter of Imamate, as in some other matters, he opposed his master. Before becoming a Mu'tazilite he used to live in the company of Imam Hasan al‑Basri.

His works are: Kitab al‑Manzilah bain al‑Manzilatain, Kitab al‑Futya, and Kitab al‑Tawhid. The first books on the science of al‑Kalam were written by him. Ibn Khallikan has recounted a number of his works.

In his illustrious work al‑Milal wa’l‑Nihal8 , al‑Shahrastani says that the essential teachings of Wasil consisted of the following: (1) Denial of the attributes of God. (2) Man's possession of free‑will to choose good deeds. (3) The belief that one who commits a grave sin is neither a believer nor an unbeliever but occupies an intermediate position, and that one who commits a grave sin goes to hell. (4) The belief that out of the opposing parties that fought in the battle of the Camel and from among the assassinators of `Uthman and his allies one party was in error, though it cannot be established which.

(1) Denial of Attributes ‑ Wasil denies that knowledge, power, will, and life belong to the essence of God. According to him, if any attribute is admitted as eternal, it would necessitate “plurality of eternals” and the belief in the unity of God will thus become false. But this idea of Wasil was not readily accepted. Generally, the Mu'tazilites first reduced all the divine attributes to two ‑ knowledge and power ‑ and called them the “essential attributes.” Afterwards they reduced both of these to one attribute ‑ unity.

(2) Belief in Free‑will ‑ In this problem Wasil adopted the creed of Ma'bad al‑Juhani and Ghailan al‑Dimashqi and said that since God is wise and just, evil and injustice cannot be attributed to him. How is it justifiable for Him that He should will contrary to what He commands His servants to do?

Consequently, good and evil, belief and unbelief, obedience and sin are the acts of His servant himself, i.e, the servant alone is their author or creator and is to be rewarded or punished for his deeds. It is impossible that the servant may be ordered to “do” a thing which he is not able to do. Man is ordered to do an act because he has the power to do that act. Whosoever denies this power and authority rejects a self‑evident datum of consciousness.

As ibn Hazm frankly said, the excellent work of the Mu'tazilites can be seen in the doctrine of free‑will and that of promise and threat. If man were to be regarded as absolutely determined in his actions, the whole edifice of Shari'ah and ethics would tumble down.

(3) Intermediary Position of the Grave Sinners ‑ On account of his belief that one who commits a grave sin is neither a believer nor an unbeliever but occupies an intermediate position, Wasil withdrew himself from the company of Imam Hasan al‑Basri and earned the title Mu'tazilite. Wasil thought that the expression “true believer” is one which means praise.

The person who commits grave sins can never deserve praise; therefore, he cannot be called a true believer. Such a person has, nevertheless, belief in the Islamic faith and admits that God alone is worthy of being worshipped; therefore, he cannot be regarded as an unbeliever either. If such a person dies without penitence, he will ever stay in hell, but as he is right in his belief, the punishment meted out to him will be moderate.

As Imam al‑Ghazali has pointed out in his Ihya' `Ulum al‑Din misinter­pretation of the following verses of the Qur'an was the cause of the Mu'tazilites' misunderstanding:

“By (the token of) Time (through the ages), verily mankind is in loss, except such as have faith and do righteous deeds and (join together) in the mutual teaching of truth, patience, and constancy.”9

“For any that disobey God and His Apostle ‑ for them is hell; they shall dwell therein forever:“10

In the light of these and similar other verses, the Mu'tazilites argue that all the perpetrators of grave sins will always stay in hell, but they do not think over the fact that God also says:

“But, without doubt, I am (also) He that forgiveth again and again those who repent, believe, and do right, who, in fine, are ready to receive true guidance:”11

“God forgiveth not that equals should be set up with Him; but He forgiveth anything else, to whom He pleaseth.”12

The last quoted verse shows that in the case of all sins, except polytheism, God will act according to His pleasure. In support of this, the clear saying of the Holy Prophet of Islam can be cited, viz., “that person too will finally come out of hell who has even an iota of faith in his heart.”

Further, some words of God, e.g., “Verily We shall not suffer to perish the reward of anyone who does a (single) righteous deed,”13 and “Verily God will not suffer the reward of the righteous to perish,”14 clearly show that for the commission of one sin, He will not ignore a man's basic faith and deprive him of all the reward for his good deeds. Therefore, the general belief is that as the perpetrator of grave sins is by all means a true believer, even if he dies without repentance, after being punished for his sins in hell and thereby purified of them, he will eventually enter heaven.

(4) Unestablished Errors ‑ Wasil had firm conviction that out of those who fought in “the battle of the Camel” and “the battle of Siffin” and the killers of `Uthman, the third Caliph, and his allies, one party was definitely in error, though it cannot be established which.15

2. Abu al‑Hudhail `Allaf

`Allaf was born in 131/748 and died in c. 226/840. He received instruction from `Uthman bin Khalid Tawil, a pupil of Wasil. He was a fluent speaker and vigorous in his arguments. He often made use of dialectical arguments in his discussions. He had a keen insight in philosophy. He wrote about sixty books on the science of Kalam but all of them have long been extinct.

`Allaf was an accomplished dialectician. The story goes that by his dialectics three thousand persons embraced Islam at his hand. We shall here speak of two of his debates. In those days there lived a Magian Salih by name who believed that the ultimate principles of the universe are two realities, Light and Darkness, that both of these are opposed to each other, and that the universe is created by the mixture of these two.

This belief led to a discussion between Salih, the Magian, and Allaf. Allaf inquired of him whether the mix­ture was distinct and different from Light and Darkness or identical with them. Salih replied that it was one and the same thing. `Allaf then said, “How could two things mix together which are opposed to each other? There ought to be someone who got them mixed, and the mixer alone is the Necessary Existent or God.”

On another occasion, while Salih was engaged in a discussion with `Allaf, the latter said, “What do you now desire?” Salih replied, “I asked a blessing of God and still stick to the belief that there are two Gods.” `Allaf then asked, “Of which God did you ask a blessing ? The God of whom you asked for it would not have suggested the name of the other God (who is His rival).”

Wasil was not able to clarify the problem of divine attributes. In this respect his ideas were still crude. `Allaf is opposed to the view that the essence of God has no quality and is absolutely one and by no means plural. The divine qualities are none other than the divine essence and cannot be separated from it. `Allaf accepts such attribute as are one with the essence of God, or one may say, accepts such an essence as is identical with the attributes. He does not differentiate between the two, but regards both as one.

When one says that God is the knower, one cannot mean that knowledge is found in the essence of God, but that knowledge is His essence. In brief, God is knowing, powerful, and living with such knowledge, power, and life as are His very essence (essential nature).

Al‑Shahrastani has interpreted the identity of divine essence and attributes thus: God knows with His knowledge and knowledge is His very essence. In the same way, He is powerful with His power and power is His very essence; and lives with His life and life is His very essence. Another interpretation of divine knowledge is that God knows with His essence and not with His know­ledge, i.e., He knows through His essence only and not through knowledge.

The difference in these two positions is that, in the latter, the attributes are denied altogether, while in the former, which `Allaf accepts, they are admitted but are identified with God's essence. This conforms to the state­ments of the philosophers who hold that the essence of God, without quality and quantity, is absolutely one, and by no means admits of plurality, and that the divine attributes are none other than the essence of God.

Whatever qualities of Him may be established, they are either “negation” or “essentials.” Those things are termed “negation” which, without the relation of negation, cannot be attributed to God, as, for instance, body, substance, and accidents. When the relation of negation is turned towards them and its sign, i.e., the word of negation, is applied, these can become the attributes of God, e. g., it would be said that God is neither a body, nor a substance, nor an accident. What is meant by “essential” is that the existence of the Necessary Existent is Its very essence and thus Its unity is real.

`Allaf did not admit the attributes of God as separate from His essence in any sense. For he sensed the danger that, by doing so, attributes, too, like essence, would have to be taken as eternal, and by their plurality the “plurality of eternals” or “the plurality of the necessary existents” would become inevi­table, and thus the doctrine of unity would be completely nullified. It was for this reason that the Christians who developed the theory of the Trinity of Godhead had to forsake the doctrine of unity.

Among the “heresies” of `Allaf was his view that after the discontinuation of the movement of the inmates of heaven and hell, a state of lethargy would supervene. During this period calm pleasure for the inmates of heaven and pain and misery for the inmates of hell will begin, and this is what is really meant by eternal pleasure and perpetual pain. Since the same was the religious belief of Jahm, according to whom heaven and hell would be annihilated, the Mu'tazilites used to call `Allaf a Jahmite in his belief in the hereafter.

Allaf has termed justice, unity, promise, threat, and the middle position as the “Five Principles” of the Mu'tazilites.

3. Al‑Nazzam

Abu Ishaq Ibrahim ibn Sayyar, called al‑Nazzam, was younger than `Allaf and it is generally known that he was `Allaf's pupil. He lived during the reign of Caliphs al‑Mamun and al‑Mu'tasim and died in 231/845. He was a peerless litterateur and poet. He studied Greek philosophy well and made full use of it in his works. His main ideas are as follows.

(1) Denial of God's Power over Evil ‑ God has no power at all over sin and evil. Other Mu'tazilites do not deny the power of God over evil, but deny the act of His creating evil. In their opinion, God has power over evil, but He does not use it for the creation of evil. Al‑Nazzam, in opposition to them, says that when evil or sin is the attribute or essence of a thing, then the possibility of the occurrence of evil or the power to create it will itself be evil.

Therefore, it cannot be attributed to God who is the doer of justice and good. Similarly, al‑Nazzam holds that in the life hereafter too, God can neither mitigate nor add to the punishment and reward of the inmates of heaven and hell; nor indeed can He expel them from heaven or hell. As to the accusation that the denial of God's power over evil necessitates the affirmation that He is impotent against evil, al‑Nazzam replies that this equally follows from the denial of divine action to create evil. He says: “You, too, deny Him the wrong act, so there is no fundamental difference between the two positions.”16

God, who is Absolute Good and Absolute Justice, cannot be the author of evil. Besides, if God has power over evil, it will necessarily follow that He is ignorant and indigent. But this is impossible; therefore, its necessary conse­quence is also impossible. The sequence of the argument may be explained thus:

If God has power over evil, then the occurrence of evil is possible, and as the supposition of the occurrence of a possible thing entails no impossibility, let us suppose that evil did occur. Now, God might or might not have had knowledge of the evil which occurred. If we say that He did not have the knowledge of it, it would necessarily follow that He was ignorant; and if we say that He did have it, it would necessarily follow that He was in need of this evil; for had He not been in need of it, He would not have created it.

When a person is not in need of a thing and knows its inherent evils, he will have nothing to do with it, if he is wise. It is definitely true that God is all‑wise; so when any evil is caused by Him, it necessarily follows that He needed it, otherwise He would have never produced it.

But since it is impossible to think that God needs evil, it is impossible to think that He creates it.

(2) Denial of the Will of God ‑ Apart from the power of action and action, al‑Nazzam does not admit that God has will, which has priority over both power and action. He holds that when we attribute will to God we only mean that God creates things according to His knowledge. His willing is identical with His acting, and when it is said that God wills the actions of men, what is meant is that He enjoins them to act in a certain way.

Why does al‑Nazzam deny the will of God? He does so, because, according to him, will implies want. He who wills lacks or needs the thing which he wills, and since God is altogether independent of His creatures, He does not lack or need anything. Consequently, will cannot be ascribed to Him. There­fore, the will of God really connotes His acts or His commands that are con­veyed to man.17

(3) Divisibility of Every Particle ad infinitum ‑ Al‑Nazzam believes in the divisibility of every particle ad infinitum. By this he means that each body is composed of such particles as are divisible to an unlimited extent, i. e., every half of a half goes on becoming half of the other half. During the pro­cess of divisions, we never reach a limit after which we may be able to say that it cannot be further divided into halves.

Now, to traverse a distance, which is composed of infinite points, an infinite period of time would necessarily be required. Is, then, the traversing of a distance impossible? Does it not necessitate the denial of the existence of the movement itself? Among the Greek philosophers, Parmenides and Zeno had denied movement itself. They could not declare untrue the movement which is observable and is a fact, so they claimed that perception cannot reveal reality. They maintained that senses are not the instruments of real knowledge and are deceptive; and the phenomenal world is illusory; a mirage. The real world is the rational world, the knowledge of which is gained by reason alone in which there is neither plurality nor multiplicity, neither movement nor change. It is an immutable and immovable reality. But they could not explain how this illusory and deceptive world was born out of the real world. Thus their system of philosophy, in spite of their claiming it to be monism, ended in dualism.

Al‑Nazzam did not accept the solution of these Greek philosophers, but to tide over this difficulty he offered the theory of tafrah. The word tafrah means to leap; it means that the moving thing traverses from one point of distance to another in such a manner that between these two points a number of points are traversed. Obviously, it happens when the moving thing does not cross all the points of a distance, but leaps over them. This indeed is an anticipation of the present‑day doctrine of the “quantum jump.”

(4) Latency and Manifestation (Kumun wa Buruz) ‑ According to al‑Naz­zam, creation is to be regarded as a single act of God by which all things were brought into being simultaneously and kept in a state of latency (kumun). It was from their original state of latency that all existing things: minerals, plants, animals, and men, have evolved in the process of time. This also implies that the whole of mankind was potentially in Adam.

Whatever priority or posteriority there may be, it is not in birth but in appearance. All things came into existence at the same time, but were kept hidden till the time of their becoming operative arrived, and when it did arrive, they were brought from the state of latency to the state of manifestation. This doctrine stands in direct opposition to the Ash'arite view that God is creating things at all moments of time.18

(5) Materialism of al‑Nazzam ‑ For al‑Nazzam, as for many before and after him, the real being of man is the soul, and body is merely its instrument. But the soul is, according to him, a rarefied body permeating the physical body, the same way as fragrance permeates flowers, butter milk, or oil sesame.19 Abu Mansur `Abd al‑Qahir ibn Tahir, in his work al‑Farq bain al‑Firaq, has discussed this theory critically and has attempted to refute it.

Besides these philosophical ideas, there are what the orthodox called the “heresies” of al‑Nazzam. For example, he did not believe in miracles, was not convinced of the inimitability of the Qur'an, considered a statute necessary for the determination of an Imam, and thought that the statute establishing the Imamate of `Ali was concealed by `Umar, that the salat al‑tarawih was un­authorized, that the actual vision of the jinn was a physical impossibility, and that belated performance of missed prayers was unnecessary.

Among al‑Nazzam's followers, the following are well known: Muhammad ibn Shabib, Abu Shumar, Yunus ibn 'Imran, Ahmad ibn Hayat, Bishr ibn Mu`tamir, and Thamamah ibn Ashras. Ahmad ibn Hayat who lived in the company of al‑Nazzam held that there are two deities: one, the creator and eternal deity, and the other, the created one which is Jesus Christ son of Mary. He regarded Christ as the Son of God. On account of this belief he was considered to have renounced Islam. According to his faith, Christ in the hereafter will ask the created beings to account for their deeds in this world, and in support of his claim Ahmad ibn Hayat quoted the verse: “Will they wait until God comes to them in canopies of clouds?”20 There is a tradition that, looking towards the moon on the fourteenth day of the lunar month, the Holy Prophet of Islam said, “Ye will behold your Lord just as ye behold this moon.”21 Ahmad ibn Hayat twisted the meaning of this tradition and said that the word Lord referred to Jesus Christ. He also believed in incarnation for, according to him, the spirit of God is incarnated into the bodies of the Imams.

Fadl al‑Hadathi, who was another pupil of al‑Nazzam, had faith similar to that of Ibn Hayat. He and his followers believed in transmigration. Accord­ing to them, in another world God created animals mature and wise, bestowed on them innumerable blessings, and conferred on them many sciences too. God then desired to put them to a test and so commanded them to offer thanks to Him for His gifts. Some obeyed His command and some did not.

He rewarded His thankful creatures by giving them heaven and condemned the ungrateful ones to hell. There were some among them who had partly obeyed the divine command and partly not obeyed it. They were sent to the world, were given filthy bodies, and, according to the magnitude of their sins, sorrow and pain, joy and pleasure.

Those who had not sinned much and had obeyed most of God's commands were given lovely faces and mild punishment. But those who did only a few good deeds and committed a large number of sins were given ugly faces, and were subjected to severe tribulations. So long as an animal is not purified of all its sins, it will be always changing its forms.

4. Bishr ibn al‑Mu'tamir

One of the celebrated personalities of al‑Nazzam's circle is Bishr ibn al­ Mu'tamir. The exact date of his birth is not known, but his date of death is 210/825.

Bishr made the “Theory of Generated Acts” (tawlid) current among the Mu'tazilites. The Mu`tazilites believe in‑free‑will. They admit that man is the author of his voluntary actions. Some actions arise by way of mubasharah, i. e., they are created directly by man, but some actions arise by way of tawlid, i.e., they necessarily result from the acts done by way of mubasharah.

Throwing of a stone in water, for example, necessitates the appearance of ripples. Even if the movement of the ripples is not intended by the stone­-thrower, yet he is rightly regarded as its agent. Similarly, man is the creator of his deeds and misdeeds by way of mubasharah, and all the consequential actions necessarily result by way of tawlid. Neither type of actions is due to divine activity.

Bishr regards the will of God as His grace and divides it into two attributes: the attribute of essence and the attribute of action. Through the attribute of essence He wills all His actions as well as men's good deeds. He is absolutely wise, and in consequence His will is necessarily concerned with that which is suitable and salutary. The attribute of action also is of two kinds. If actions are concerned with God, they would imply creation, and if concerned with men, they would mean command.

According to Bishr, God could have made a different world, better than the present one, in which all might have attained salvation. But in opposition to the common Mu'tazilite belief, Bishr held that God was not bound to create such a world. All that was necessary for God to do was that He should have bestowed upon man free‑will and choice, and after that it was sufficient to bestow reason for his guidance to discover divine revelation and the laws of nature, and combining reason with choice, attain salvation.

Mu'tamir's pupil Abu Musa Isa bin Sabih, nicknamed Mizdar, was a very pious man and was given the title of the hermit of the Mu'tazilites. He held some very peculiar views. God, he thought, could act tyrannically and lie, and this would not make His lordship imperfect. The style of the Qur'an is not inimitable; a work like it or even better than it can be produced. A person who admits that God can be seen by the eye, though without form, is an unbeliever, and he who is doubtful about the unbelief of such a person is also an unbeliever.

5. Mu'ammar

Mu'ammar's full name was Mu'ammar ibn `Abbad al‑Sulami. Neither the date of his birth nor that of his death can be determined precisely. According to some, he died in 228/842.

To a great extent Mu`ammar's ideas tally with those of the other Mu'tazilites, but he resorts to great exaggeration in the denial of the divine attributes and in the Theory of Predestination.

The following is the gist of his ideas.

(1) Denial of Divine Knowledge ‑ Mu'ammar maintains that the essence of God is free from every aspect of plurality. He is of the view that if we believe in the attributes of God, then God's essence becomes plural; therefore, he denies all the attributes, and in this denial he is so vehement that he says that God knows neither Himself nor anyone else, for knowing (or knowledge) is something either within or without God.

In the first case, it necessarily follows that the knower and the known are one and the same, which is impossible, for it is necessary that the known should be other than and distinct from the knower. If knowledge is not something within God, and the known is separate from the knower, it means that God's essence is dual. Further, it follows also that God's knowledge is dependent on and is in need of an “other.” Consequently, His absoluteness is entirely denied.

By Mu'ammar's times, more and more people were taking interest in philo­sophy and Neo‑Platonism was gaining ground. In denying the attributes Mu'ammar was following in the footsteps of Plotinus. According to the basic assumptigns of Plotinus, the essence of God is one and absolute. God is so transcendent that whatever we say of Him merely limits Him. Hence we cannot attribute to Him beauty, goodness, thought, or will, for all such attri­butes are limitations and imperfections. We cannot say what He is, but only what He is not. As a poet has said, He is

“The One whom the reason does not know,

The Eternal, the Absolute whom neither senses know nor fancy.

He is such a One, who cannot be counted He is such a Pure Being!”

It is universally believed in Islam that human reason, understanding, senses, or fancy cannot fathom the essence of God or the reality of His attributes or His origin. Says `Attar:

“Why exert to probe the essence of God?

Why strain thyself by stretching thy limitations?

When thou canst not catch even the essence of an atom,

How canst thou claim to know the essence of God Himself?”

To reflect on the essence of God has been regarded as “illegitimate thinking.” The Prophet of Islam is reported to have said: “We are all fools in the matter of the gnosis of the essence of God.”22 Therefore, he has warned the thinkers thus: “Don't indulge in speculating on the nature of God lest ye may be destroyed.”23 He has said about himself: “I have not known Thee to the extent that Thy knowledge demands !”24

Hafiz has expressed the same idea in his own words thus

“Take off thy net; thou canst not catch ‘anqa25

For that is like attempting to catch the air!”

(2) Denial of Divine Will ‑ Mu'ammar says that, like knowledge, will too cannot be attributed to the essence of God. Nor can His will be regarded as eternal, because eternity expresses temporal priority and sequence and God transcends time. When we say that the will of God is eternal, we mean only that the aspects of the essence of God, like His essence, transcend time.

(3) God as the Creator of Substances and not of Accidents ‑ According to Mu'ammar, God is the creator of the world, but He did not create anything except bodies. Accidents are the innovations of bodies created either (i) by nature, e. g., burning from fire, heat from the sun, or (ii) by free choice, such as the actions of men and animals. In brief, God creates matter and then keeps Himself aloof from it. Afterwards He is not concerned at all with the changes that are produced through matter, whether they may be natural or voluntary. God is the creator of bodies, not of accidents which flow out of the bodies as their effects.26

(4) Mu'ammar regards man as something other than the sensible body. Man is living, knowing, able to act, and possesses free‑will. It is not man him­self who moves or keeps quiet, or is coloured, or sees, or touches, or changes from place to place; nor does one place contain him to the exclusion of another, because he has neither length nor breadth, neither weight nor depth; in short, he is something other than the body.

6. Thamamah

Thamamah ibn Ashras al‑Numayri lived during the reign of Caliphs Harun al‑Rashid and al‑Mamun. He was in those days the leader of the Qadarites. Harun al‑Rashid imprisoned him on the charge of heresy, but he was in the good books of al‑Mamun and was released by him. He died in 213/828. The following is the substance of his ideas.

(1) As good and evil are necessarily known through the intellect and God is good, the gnosis of God is an intellectual necessity. Had there been no Shari'ah, that is, had we not acquired the gnosis of God through the prophets, even then it would have been necessitated by the intellect.

(2) The world being necessitated by the nature of God, it has, like God, existed from eternity and will last till eternity. Following in the footsteps of Aristotle, he thinks that the world is eternal (qadim) and not originated (hadith) and regards God as creating things by the necessity of His nature and not by will and choice.

(3) Bishr ibn al‑Mu'tamir, who had put into usage the theory of generated acts among the Mu'tazilites, was wrong in thinking that men are not directly but only indirectly the authors of such acts. Neither God nor man is the author of generated acts; they just happen without any author. Man is not their author, for otherwise when a deed has been generated after a man's death, he, as a dead man, will have to be taken as its author. God cannot be regarded as the author of these acts, for some generated acts are evil and evil cannot be attributed to God.

(4) Christians, Jews, and Magians, after they are dead, will all become dust. They will neither go to heaven nor to hell. Lower animals and children also will be treated in the same manner. The unbeliever, who does not possess and is not keen to possess the gnosis of his Creator, is not under the obligation to know Him. He is quite helpless and resembles the lower animals.

7. Al‑Jahiz

`Amr ibn Bahr al‑Jahiz, a contemporary of Mu'ammar, was a pupil of al-­Nazzam and was himself one of the Imams of the Mu'tazilites. Both the master and the disciple, it was held, were almost of one mind. Al‑Jahiz had drunk deep of Greek philosophy. He had a keen sense of humour and was a good anecdotist. He usually lived in the company of the Caliphs of Baghdad. His permanent residence was the palace of Ibn Zayyat, the Prime Minister of the Caliph Mutawakkil.

When Ibn Zayyat was put to death by the orders of the Caliph, Jahiz too was imprisoned. He was released after some time. He was the ugliest of men; his eyes protruded out, and children were frightened at his very sight. In his last years he had a stroke of paralysis. He died in his nine­tieth year at Basrah in 255/869. During his illness he would often recite the following couplets

“Dost thou hope in old age to look like what you were in youth?

Thy heart belieth thee: an old garment never turns into a new one.”

He was the author of a number of books out of which the following are noteworthy: Kitab al‑Bayan, Kitab al‑Hayawan, and Kitab al‑Ghilman. He also wrote a book dealing with Muslim sects.

It was the belief of al‑Jahiz that all knowledge comes by nature, and it is an activity of man in which he has no choice. He was a scientist‑philosopher. In the introduction to his Kitab al‑Hayawan, he writes that he is inspired by the philosophical spirit which consists in deriving knowledge from sense‑experience and reason. It employs observation, comparison, and experi­ment as methods of investigation. He experimented on different species of animals, sometimes by cutting their organs, sometimes even by poisoning them, in order to see what effects were thus produced on animal organism.

In this respect he was the precursor of Bacon whom he anticipated seven and a half centuries earlier. Al‑Jahiz did not, however, base knowledge on sense­-experience alone. Since sense‑experience is sometimes likely to give false re­ports, it needs the help of reason. In fact, in knowledge reason has to play the decisive role. He Says, “You should not accept whatever your eyes tell you; follow the lead of reason. Every fact is determined by two factors: one apparent, and that is sensory; the other hidden, and that is reason; and in reality reason is the final determinant.”

According to al‑Jahiz, the will is not an attribute of man, for attributes are continually subject to change, but the will is non‑changing and non‑temporal.

He holds that the sinners will not be condemned to hell permanently but will naturally turn into fire. God will not send anybody to hell, but the fire of hell by its very nature will draw the sinners towards itself. Al‑Jahiz denies that God can commit a mistake or that an error can be imputed to Him. Al‑Jahiz, also denies the vision of God.

8. Al‑Jubba'i

Abu 'Ali al‑Jubba'i was born in 235/849 at Jubba, a town in Khuzistan. His patronymic name is Abu `Ali and his descent is traced to Hamran, a slave of `Uthman. Al‑Jubba'i belonged to the later Mu`tazilites. He was the teacher of Abu al‑Hasan al‑Ash`ari and a pupil of Abu Ya'qub bin `Abd Allah al ­Shahham who was the leader of the Mu'tazilites in Basrah.

Once there was a discussion between him and Imam al‑Ash’ari in respect of the Theory of the Salutary to which reference has already been made in the foregoing pages. The story goes that one day he asked Imam al‑Ash'ari: “What do you mean by obedience?” The Imam replied, “Assent to a command,” and then asked for al‑Jubba’i’s own opinion in this matter.

Al‑Jubba'i said, “The essence of obedience, according to me, is agreement to the will, and whoever fulfils the will of another obeys him.” The Imam answered, “According to this, one must conclude that God is obedient to His servant if He fulfils his will.” Al‑Jubba'i granted this. The Imam said, “You differ from the com­munity of Muslims and you blaspheme the Lord of the worlds. For if God is obedient to His servant, then He must be subject to him, but God is above this.”

Al‑Jubba'i further claimed that the names of God are subject to the regular rules of grammar. He, therefore, considered it possible to derive a name for Him from every deed which He performs. On this Imam al‑Ash`ari said that, according to this view, God should be named “the producer of pregnancy among women,” because he creates pregnancy in them. Al‑Jubba'i could not escape this conclusion. The Imam added: “This heresy of yours is worse than that of the Christians in calling God the father of Jesus, although even they do not hold that He produced pregnancy in Mary.”27 The following are other notable views of al‑Jubba'i.

(1) Like other Mu'tazilites, he denies the divine attributes. He holds that the very essence of God is knowing; no attribute of knowledge can be attributed to Him so as to subsist besides His essence. Nor is there any “state” which enables Him to acquire the “state of knowing.” Unlike al‑Jubba'i, his son abu Hashim did believe in “states.” To say that God is all‑hearing and all‑seeing really means that God is alive and there is no defect of any kind in Him. The attributes of hearing and seeing in God originate at the time of the origination of what is seen and what is heard.

(2) Al‑Jubba'i and the other Mu'tazilites regard the world as originated and the will of God as the cause of its being originated; they also think that the will of God too is something originated, for if the temporal will is regarded as subsisting in God, He will have to be regarded as the “locus of temporal events.” This view he held against the Karramites who claimed that the will subsists in God Himself, is eternal and instrumental in creating the world which is originated, and, therefore, not eternal.

Against al‑Jubba'i it has been held that independent subsistence of the will is entirely incomprehensible, for it tantamounts to saying that an attribute exists without its subject or an accident exists without some substance. Be­sides, it means that God who has the will is devoid of it, i.e., does not have it ‑ a clear contradiction.

(3) For a1‑Jubba'i the speech of God is compounded of letters and sound: and God creates it in somebody. The speaker is He Himself and not the body in which it subsists. Such speech will necessarily be a thing originated. There­fore, the speech of God is a thing originated and not eternal.

(4) Like other Mu'tazilities, al‑Jubba'i denies the physical vision of God in the hereafter, for that, according to him, is impossible. It is impossible because whatever is not physical cannot fulfil the conditions of vision.

(5) He equally agrees with other Mu'tazilites regarding the gnosis of God, the knowledge of good and evil, and the destiny of those who commit grave sins. With them he holds that man is the author of his own actions and that it lies in his power to produce good or evil or commit sins and wrongs, and that it is compulsory for God to punish the sinner and reward the obedient.

(6) In the matter of Imamate, al‑Jubba'i supports the belief of the Sunnites, viz., the appointment of an Imam is to be founded on catholic consent.

9. Abu Hashim

Al‑Jubba’is son, Abu Hashim `Abd al‑Salam, was born in Basrah in 247/861 and died in 321/933. In literature he eclipsed al‑Jubba'i. Both of them under­took new researches in the problems of Kalam. In general, Abu Hashim agreed with his father, but in the matter of divine attributes he widely differed from him.

Many Muslim thinkers of the time believed that the attributes of God are eternal and inherent in His essence. Contrary to this belief, the Shi'ites and the followers of the Greek philosophers held that it is by virtue of His essence that God has knowledge. He does not know by virtue of His knowledge. The divine essence, which is without quality and quantity, is one and in no way does it admit of plurality.

According to the Mu'tazilites, attributes con­stitute the essence of God, i.e., God possesses knowledge due to the attribute of knowledge, but this attribute is identical with His essence. God knows by virtue of His knowledge and knowledge is His essence; similarly, He is omni­potent by virtue of His power, etc. Al‑Jubba’is theory is that though God knows according to His essence, yet knowing is neither an attribute nor a state, owing to which God may be called a knower.

As a solution to this problem, Abu Hashim presents the conception of “state.” He says that we know essence and know it in different states. The states go on changing, but the essence remains the same. These states are in themselves inconceivable; they are known through their relation to essence. They are different from the essence, but are not found apart from the essence. To quote his own words, “A state‑in‑itself is neither existent nor non‑existent, neither unknown nor known, neither eternal nor contingent; it cannot be known separately, but only together with the essence.”

Abu Hashim supports his conception of states by this argument: Reason evidently distinguishes between knowing a thing absolutely and knowing it together with some attribute. When we know an essence, we do not know, that it is knowing also. Similarly, when we know a substance, we do not know whether it is bounded or whether the accidents subsist in it. Certainly, man perceives the common qualities of things in one thing and the differentiating qualities in another, and necessarily gains knowledge of the fact that the quality which is common is different from the quauty which is not common.

These are rational propositions that no sane man would deny. Their locus is essence and not an accident, for otherwise it would necessarily follow that an accident subsists in another accident. In this way, states are necessarily determined. Therefore, to be a knower of the world refers to a state, which is an attribute besides the essence and has not the same sense as the essence. In like manner Abu Hashim proves the states for God; these states are not found apart but with the essence.

Al‑Jubba'i and the other deniers of states refute this theory of Abu Hashim. Al‑Jubba'i says that these states are really mental aspects that are not con­tained in the divine essence but are found in the percipient, i. e., in the perceiver of the essence. In other words, they are such generalizations or relations as do not‑exist externally but are found only in the percipient's mind. Ibn Taimiyyah also denies states. In this respect one of his couplets has gained much fame

“Abu Hashim believes in State, al‑Ash'ari in Acquisition and al‑Nazzam in Leap. These three things have verbal and no real existence.”28

After a little hesitation, Imam Baqilani supported Abu Hashim's views. Imam al‑Ash'ari and the majority of his followers disputed them and Imam al‑Haramain first supported but later opposed them.

The End

Besides the Mu'tazilites an account of whose views has been given above in some detail, there were some others the details of whose beliefs are given in the Milal wal‑Nahal of Shahrastani and al‑Farq bain al‑Firaq of al‑Baghdadi.

They were `Amr ibn `Ubaid; abu 'Ali `Amr bin Qa'id Aswari who had almost the same position as al‑Nazzam, but differed from him in the view that God has no power over what He knows He does not do, or what He says He would not do, and man has the power to do that; Abu Ja'far Muhammad ibn `Abd Allah who shared al‑Nazzam's views but believed that to God can be attributed the power to oppress children and madmen, but not those who are in their full senses; Jafar ibn Bishr and Jafar ibn Harb who held that among the corrupt of the Muslim community there were some who were worse than the Jews, Christians, and Magians, and that those who committed trivial sins would also be condemned to eternal hell; Hisham ibn `Amr al ­Fuwati who had very exaggerated views on the problem of predestination and did not ascribe any act to God; and Abu Qasim `Abd Allah ibn Ahmad ibn Mahmud al‑Balkhi, a Mu'tazilite of Baghdad known as al‑Ka'bi, who used to say that the deed of God is accomplished without His will.

When it is said that God wills deeds, it is implied that He is their creator and there is wisdom in His doing so; and when it is said that He of Himself wills the deeds of others, all that is meant is that He commands these deeds. Al‑Ka'bi believed that God neither sees Himself nor others. His seeing and hearing mean nothing other than His knowledge. Al‑Ka'bi wrote a commentary on the Qur'an which consisted of twelve volumes. No one till then had written such a voluminous commentary. He died in 309/921.

Bibliography

Abd al‑Karim al‑Shahrastani, al‑Milal wa’l‑Nihal, Bombay, 1314/1896.; Theodor Haarbrucker, Religionsparthein and Philosophen‑Schulen, 2 Vols., Halle, 1850‑51; the Arabic text edited by Cureton, London, 1846; al‑Baghdadi, al‑Farq bain al­ Firaq, tr. Kate Chambers Seelye, Part I, Columbia University Press, New York, 1920 ; Ibn Hazm, al‑Milal wa’l‑Nihal, partly translated by Prof. Friedlender in the JAOS, Vols. XXVIII and XXIX; Krehl, Beitrage zur Characteristik der Lehre vom Glauben in Islam, Leipzig, 1865; H. Ritter, Uber UnesreKenntniss der Arabischen Philosophie, Gottengen, 1844; I3. B. Macdonald, Development of Muslim Theology, Jurisprudence and Constitutional Theory, London & New York 1903; A. J. Wensinck, The Muslim Creed, Cambridge, 1932; T. J. de Boer, The History of Philosophy in Islam, tr. E. R. Jones, London, 1903; The Encyclopaedia of Islam, prepared under the supervision of M, Th. Houtsma and others, 4 Vols. and Supplement Leiden, 1913‑38; Muhammad Najm al‑Ghani Khan, Madhahib al‑ Islam, Luknow, 1924; al‑ Ghazali, Ihya' `Ulum al‑Din, tr. into Urdu: Madhaq al‑`Arifin by Muhammad Ahsan, Lucknow, 1313/1895; Muhammad Rida Husain, al‑Kalam `ala Falasifat al‑Islam, Lucknow, 1905; Mubammad Imam 'Ali Khan, Falsafah‑i Islam Lucknow, 1890; Abu Muzaffar al‑Isfra'ini, al‑Tabsir fi al‑Din, Egypt, 1359/1941; Mahmud bin `Umar al‑Zamakhshari, al‑Kashshaf.

Notes

1. The name of this sect is ahl al-wa’id.

2. This group is called the Murji’ites. The same was the belief of Jahm bin Safwa also.

3. His companion, `Amr ibn `Ubaid, from the beginning, shared this view of his. The Khawarij too come under the same category.

4. Al‑Shahrastani, Kitab al‑Milal wa’l‑Nihal, quoted by A. J. Wensinck in The Muslim Creed, Cambridge, 1932, p. 62.

5. Ibid., pp. 62, 63.

6. Siddiq Hasan, Kashf al‑ Ghummah `an Iftiraq al‑ Ummah, Matb'ah Lahjahani, Bhopal, India, 1304/1886, p. 19.

7. Ibid.

8. Cf. Urdu translation: Madhaq al‑`Arifin, Newal Kishore Press, Luclmow, p. 135.

9. Qur'an, ciii, 1‑3.

10. Ibid., lxxii, 23.

11. Ibid., xx, 82.

12. Ibid., iv, 48.

13. Ibid.; xviii, 30

14. Ibid., xi, 115.

15. Al‑Shahrastani. op. cit., p. 21

16. Ibid., p. 24.

17. Ibid.

18. T. J. de Boer, “Muslim Philosophy,” Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics.

19. Al‑Shahrastani, op. cit., Chap Khaneh‑i `Ilmi, Teheran, 1321/1903, p. 77.

20. Qur’an, ii, 120

21. The tradition: Innakum satarauna rabbakum kama tarauna hadh al‑qamar.

22. The tradition: Kullu al‑nas fi dhati Allahi humaqa'.

23. The tradition: La tufakkiru fi Allahi fatahlaku.

24. Ma 'arafnaka haqqa ma'rifatika.

25. 'Anqa' is a fabulous bird said to be known as to name but unknown as to body.

26. Al‑Shahrastani has criticized this statement of Mu'ammar, op. cit., p. 29.

27. Al‑Baghdadi, op. cit., pp. 188‑89.

28. Muhammad Najm al‑Ghani Khan, Madhahib al‑Islam, Lucknow, 1924, p. 132.


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