A History of Muslim Philosophy Volume 1

A History of Muslim Philosophy4%

A History of Muslim Philosophy Author:
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 29: Nasir Al-Din Tusi

By Bakhtyar Husain Siddiqi

Life

Khwajah Nasir al-Din Abu Ja'far Muhammad b. Muhammad b. Hasan, an accomplished scholar, mathematician, astronomer, and Shiite politician of the period of the Mongol invasion on the Assassins and the Caliphate, was born at Tus in 597/1201. After receiving early education from his father and Muhammad b. Hasan, he studied Fiqh, Usul, Hikmah and Kalam especially the Isharat of Ibn Sina, from Mahdar Farid al-Din Damad, and mathematics from Muhammad Hasib, at Nishapur. He then went to Baghdad, where he studied medicine and philosophy from Qutb al-Din, mathematics from Kamal al-Din b. Yunus, and Fiqh and Usul from Salim b. Badran.1

Tusi began his career as an astrologer to Nasir al-Din 'Abd al-Rahim, the Governor of the Isma`ilite mountain fortress of Quhistan during the reign of 'Ala al-Din Muhammad (618-652/1221-1255), the seventh Grand Master (Khudawand) of Alamut. His “correspondence”2 with the wazir of the last 'Abbasid Caliph, al-Musta`sim (640-656/1242-1258) of Baghdad, was, however, intercepted by his employers, and he was removed to Alamut under close supervision, although he enjoyed there every facility to continue his .studies. In 654/1256, he “played”3 the last Assassin ruler Rukn al-Din Khurshah into the hands of Hulagu and then accompanied the latter as his trusted adviser to the conquest of Baghdad in 657/1258.4

The Maraghah Observatory

Tusi's chief claim to fame rests on his persuading Hulagu to found the celebrated observatory (rasad khanah) at Maraghah, Adharbaijan, in 657/1259, which was equipped with the best instruments, “some of them constructed for the first time.”5 Here he compiled the astronomical tables, called Zij al­-Ilkhani, which “became popular throughout Asia, even in China.”6

Besides being dedicated to the advancement of astronomy and mathematics in the late seventh/thirteenth century, this observatory was important in three other ways. It was the first observatory the recurring and non-recurring expenditure of which was met out of endowments, thus opening the door for the financing of future observatories.7

Secondly, just as Ibn Tufail (d. 581/1185) turned the Court of Caliph 'Abd al-Mu'min into an enviable intellectual galaxy that promoted the cause of knowledge and wisdom in the West, Tusi made the Maraghah observatory a “splendid assembly”8 of the men of knowledge and learning by making “special arrangements”9 a for the teaching of philo­sophical sciences, besides mathematics and astronomy, and by dedicating the income of endowments to stipends. Thirdly, annexed to the observatory, there was a huge library in which were stored the incorruptible treasures of knowledge looted by the Mongols and Tartars during their invasions on Iraq, Baghdad, Syria, and other territories. According to Ibn Shakir, the library contained more than four hundred thousand volumes.10

Tusi retained his influential position under Abaqa, Hulagu's successor, uninterrupted until his death in 672/1274.

Works

In an age of widespread political devastation followed by intellectual decline, Hulagu's patronage to Tusi is of singular importance in the history of Muslim thought. The revival and promotion of philosophical sciences in the late seventh/thirteenth century centred round Tusi's personality. To the Persians, he was known as “the teacher of man”11 (ustad al-bashar). Bar­-Hebraeus regarded him as “a man of vast learning in all the branches of philosophy.”12 To Ivanow, he appears an “encyclopedist,”13 and Afnan thinks him to be “the most competent commentator of Avicenna in Persia.”14

One also cannot help being impressed by the “remarkable industry” displayed by him in “editing and improving”15 the translations made by Thabit bin Qurrah, Qusta bin Luqa, and Ishaq bin Hunain of Greek mathematicians and astronomers. Brockelmann has enumerated fifty-nine of his extant works,16 but Ivanow attributes “something like one hundred and fifty works”17 to him. The list given by Mudarris Ridwi runs to one hundred and thirteen titles, excluding twenty-one the attribution of which to Tusi is doubtful.18

Himself an accomplished scholar rather than a creative mind, Tusi's position is mainly that of a revivalist and his works are largely eclectical in character. But even as a revivalist and eclectic, he is not lacking in originality, at least in the presentation of his material. His versatility is indeed astonishing. His manifold and varied interests extend to philosophy, mathematics, astronomy, physics, medicine, mineralogy, music, history, literature, and dogmatics. His important philosophical works are listed below.

I Asas al-Iqtibas (logic), 1947.

2. Mantiq al-Tajrid, (logic).

3. Ta'dil al-Mi'yar (logic).

4. Tajrid al.'Aqa'id (dogmatics), Teheran, 1926.

5. Qawa'id al-'Aqa'id (dogmatics), Teheran, 1926.

6. Risaleh-i I'tiqadat (dogmatics).

7. Akhlaq-i Nasiri (ethics).

8. Ausaf al-Ashraf (Sufi ethics)

9. Risaleh dar Ithbat-i Wajib (metaphysics).

10. Ithbat-i Jauhar al-Mufariq (metaphysics).

11. Risaleh dar Wujud-i Jauhar-i Mujarrad (metaphysics).

12. Risaleh dar Ithbat-i 'Aql-i Fa”al (metaphysics).

13. Risaleh Darurat-i Marg (metaphysics).

14. Risaleh Sudur Kathrat az Wahdat (metaphysics).

15. Risaleh 'Ilal wa Ma'lulat (metaphysics).

16. Fusul (metaphysics), Teheran, 1956.

17. Tasawwurat (metaphysics), Bombay, 1950.

18. Talkhis al-Muhassal, Cairo, 1323/1905.

19. Hall-i Mushkilat al-Isharat, Lucknow, 1293/1876.

Akhlaq-I Nasiri

Nothing can be farther from truth than the assertion that Akhlaq-i Nasiri of Tusi is a mere “translation”19 of Tahdhib al-Akhlaq of Ibn Miskawaih. The author was undoubtedly commissioned by Nasir al-Din 'Abd al-Rahim, the Isma'ilite Governor of Quhistan, to translate the Kitab al-Taharat (Tahdhib al-Akhlaq) from Arabic into Persian, but he did not accept the suggestion for fear of “distorting and disfiguring the original.”20

Besides, Ibn Miskawaih's effort is confined to the description of moral discipline; the domestic and political disciplines are altogether missing in his work. These, according to Tusi, are equally important aspects of “practical philosophy” and, therefore, are not to be ignored. With this in mind, Tusi compiled Akhlaq-i Nasiri on the following pattern.

With regard to content, the part on moral philosophy is a “summary”21 and not a translation of Kitab al-Taharat, but the form, the arrangement of topics, and the classification of subjects is Tusi's own, which apparently give an air of originality to it.

For the parts on domestic and political philosophy, Tusi is greatly indebted to Ibn Sina22 and Farabi,23 and yet the mere addition of these two parts which completed practical philosophy (hikmat-i `amali) in all its details, if not any­thing else, justifies Tusi's claim that Akhlaq-i Nasiri was written “not on the style of imitation nor in the spirit of translation, but as an original venture.”24

Ethics

Following Ibn Miskawaih,.Tusi regards ultimate happiness (sa`adat-i quswa) as the chief moral end, which is determined by the place and position of man in the cosmic evolution, and realized through his amenability to discipline and obedience. The concept of ultimate happiness is intrinsically different from the Aristotelian idea of happiness which is devoid of the “celestial element”25 and also has no reference to the cosmic position of man.

The Platonic virtues of wisdom, courage, temperance, and justice (derived from the trinity of the soul - reason, ire, and desire) and their differentiation into seven, eleven, twelve, and nineteen species respectively, given by Ibu Miskawaih, figure prominently in Tusi's ethics, the only difference being that he reduced the last nineteen to twelve.

But following Aristotle's distinction in the soul of theoretical reason, practical reason, ire, and desire, and, unlike Ibn Miskawaih, he deduces justice from the culture of practical reason26 without disclaiming the Platonic view of the proper and harmonious functioning of the triple powers of the soul. Unlike Aristotle and like Ibn Miskawaih, he ranks benevo­lence27 (tafaddul) higher than justice, and love (mahabbah) as a natural source of unity, higher than benevolence.

Aristotle conceived of vice as an extreme of virtue either on the side of excess or defect. To Galen, vice was a malady of the soul. The Qur'an, after enunciating the general ethical principles of moderation,28 defines vice as a disease of the heart.29

Ibn Miskawaih, after enumerating the eight generic vices of astuteness and stupidity (safah and balahat), rashness and cowardice (tahawwur and jubun), indulgence and abstention (sharrahat and khumud), tyranny and sufferance (jaur and mahanat), on the Aristotelian pattern, describes at length the causes and cures of fear and sorrow. Ibn Miskawaih does not make it clear whether fear and sorrow constitute the excess or defi­ciency of ire and desire.

This problem is taken up by Tusi, and he finds out a solution for it, befitting his ingenuity. Disease is the deviation of the soul from equipoise (i`tidal). Aristotle and following him Ibn Miskawaih had thought of this deviation in terms of quantity (kammiyyat) and, therefore, the excess (ifrat) and defect (tafrit) of a state were for them the only two causes of moral diseases.

Tusi for the first time propounded the view that the deviation is not only quantitative but also qualitative, and to this new type of deviation he gave the name of perversion30 (rada'at). Consequently, a moral disease may have one of the three causes: (1) excess, (2) defect, or (3) perversion of reason, ire, or desire. This explains adequately that fear constitutes the perversion of ire, and sorrow, the perversion of desire.

Equipped with the theory of triple causation of the maladies of the soul, Tusi classifies the fatal diseases of the theoretical reason into perplexity (hairat), simple ignorance (jahl-i basit), and compound ignorance (jahl-i murakkab), constituting its excess,-deficiency, and perversion - a classification which cannot be traced to Ibn Miskawaih.

Perplexity is caused by the inability of the soul to distinguish truth from falsehood due to the conflicting evidence and confusing arguments for and against a controversial issue. As a cure of perplexity, Tusi suggests that a perplexed man should, in the first instance, be made to realize that composition and division, affirmation and denial, i, e., the contraries, being mutually exclusive, cannot exist in one and the same thing at the same time, so that he may be convinced that if a proposition is true, it cannot be false, and if it is false, it cannot be true. After his assimilating this self-evident principle, he may be taught the rules of syllogism to facilitate the detection of fallacies in the arguments.

Simple ignorance consists in a man's lack of knowledge on a subject without his presuming that he knows it. Such ignorance is a precedent condition for acquiring knowledge, but it is fatal to be contented with it. The disease may be cured by bringing home to the patient the fact that intellection and not physical appearance entitles a man to the designation of man, and that an ignorant man is no better than a brute; rather he is worse than that, for the latter can be excused for its absence of reason, he cannot.

Compound ignorance is a man's lack of knowledge on a subject coupled with his presumption that he knows it. In spite of ignorance he does not know that he is ignorant. According to Tusi, it is almost an .incurable disease, but devotion to mathematics may perhaps reduce it to simple ignorance.

Tnsi regards anger (ghadab), cowardice (jubun), and fear (khauf) as the three prominent diseases of ire (quwwat-i difa') on the side of excess, deficiency, and perversion, respectively. In his analysis of fear, especially the fear of death, and in his elaboration of the seven concomitants and ten causes of anger, he follows Ibn Miskawaih.

Similarly, excess of appetite (ifrat-i shahwat) is caused by the excess of desire while levity (batalat) results from its deficiency, and sorrow (huzn) and jealousy (hasad) constitute the perversion of this power. He defines jealousy as one wishing a reverse in the fortune of another, without longing to possess a similar fortune for oneself. Following Ghazali, he also distinguishes between envy31 (ghibtat) and jealousy, by defining the former as a longing to have the fortune similar to the one possessed by another without wishing any reverse to him. Jealousy consumes virtue as fire consumes fuel, but envy is commendable, if directed to the acquisition of virtues, and condemnable if directed to lust for worldly pleasures.

Tusi regards society as the normal background of moral life, for man is by nature a social being, and his perfection consists in evincing this characteristic of sociability towards his fellow-beings. Love and friendship, therefore, con­stitute the vital principles of his moral theory - a theory in which apparently there is no place for the retired and secluded life of an ascetic.

In a later work, Ausaf al-Ashraf, however, he approvingly writes of asceticism as a stage in mystical life. He claims no mystic experience and makes it clear in the preface that his effort is a purely intellectual appreciation and rational formulation of the mystic tradition.32 Though not a mystic, he is an advocate of a rational treatment of mysticism. He classifies it into six progressive stages, each stage, excepting the last, having six moral states of its own.

The first stage is that of the preparation for the mystic journey (suluk), the necessary requirements of which are faith in God (iman), constancy in the faith (thabat), firmness of intention (niyyat), truthfulness (sidq), contempla­tion of God (anabat), and sincerity (khulus).

The second stage consists of the renunciation of the worldly connections which obstruct the mystic path. There are six essentials of this stage and these are repentance over sins (taubah), asceticism of the will (zuhd), indiffer­ence to wealth (faqr), rigorous practices to subdue irrational desires (riyadat), calculation of virtues and vices (muharabat), harmony between actions and intentions (muraqabat), and piety (taqwa).

The third stage of the mystic journey is marked by aloofness (khalwat), contemplation (tafakkur), fear and sorrow (khauf and huzn), hope (rija'), endurance (sabr), and gratitude to God (shukr).

The, fourth stage covers the experiences of the traveller (salik) before reaching the final goal. They are devotion to God (iradat), eagerness in de­votion (shauq), love of God (mahabbah), knowledge of God (ma'ri fat), un­shakeable faith in God (yaqin), and tranquillity of the soul (sukun).

The fifth stage consists of resignation to God (tawakkul), obedience (rida'), submission to the divine will (taslim), certitude about the oneness of God (tauhid), effort for union with God (wahdat), and absorption in God (ittihad).

In the sixth stage the process of the absorption in God reaches its culmination and the traveller is ultimately lost (fana') into the oneness of God.

Domestic Science

Acknowledging his debt to Ibn Sina,33 Tusi defines home (manzil) as a particular relationship existing between husband and wife, parents and children, master and servant, and wealth and its possessor. The aim of do­mestic science (tadbir-i manzil) is to evolve an efficient system of discipline, conducive to the physical, social, and mental welfare of this primary group, with father as its controlling head. The father's function is to maintain and restore the equipoise of the family, having in view the particular dispositions of the constituents and the dictates of expediency in general.

Wealth is necessary for achieving the basic ends of self-preservation and race-preservation. For its acquisition, Tusi recommends the adoption of noble professions and the achievement of perfection in them, without ever giving way to inequity, infamy, and meanness. Hair-dressing and filth-clearing are, no doubt, mean and repulsive professions, but they are warranted on the ground of social expediency.

Tusi regards the saving of wealth as an act of prudence, provided it is not prompted by greed or miserliness, and does not cause hardship to the consti­tuents of the home or involve the risk of one's integrity and prestige in society. In matters of expenditure, he stands for moderation in general. Nothing should be spent which may smack of extravagance, display, miscalculation or stinginess.

Not gratification of lust, but procreation and protection of property are the basic aims of marriage. Intelligence, integrity, chastity, modesty, shrewdness, tenderness of the heart, and, above all, obedience to husband are the qualities which ought to be sought in a wife. It is good if she is further graced with the qualities of noble birth, wealth, and beauty, but these are absolutely undesirable if not accompanied with intelligence, modesty and chastity.

Ad­ministrative expediency requires that the husband should be awe-inspiring. He may be benevolent and magnanimous to his wife, but in the wider interests of the home, he should avoid excessive affection, keep her in seclusion, and should not confide secrets or discuss important matters with her. Polygamy is undesirable because it invariably upsets the whole domestic organization. Women are feeble-minded by nature and psychologically jealous of another partner in the husband's love and fortune.

The concession of polygamy is reluctantly given by Tusi to kings because they are in a position to command unconditional obedience, but even for them it is desirable to avoid it as an act of prudence. Man is to the home as heart is to the body, and as one heart cannot give sustenance to two bodies, so one man cannot manage two homes So great is the sanctity of home in Tusi's eyes that he even advises people to remain unmarried if they are unfit to enforce family equilibrium.

On the discipline of children, Tusi, following Ibn Miskawaih,34 begins with the inculcation of good morals through praise, reward, and benevolent censure. He is not in favour of frequent reproof and open censure; the former increases the temptation, and the latter leads to audacity. After bringing home to them the rules regarding dining, dressing, conversation, behaviour, and the manner of moving in society, the children should be trained for a particular profession of their own liking. The daughters should be specifically trained to become good wives and mothers in the domestic set-up.

Tusi closes the discussion with the greatest emphasis on the observance of parental rights, as enjoined by Islam. Psychologically speaking, children realize the rights of the father only after attaining the age of discrimination, but those of the mother are evident from the very start of life. From this Tusi concludes that paternal rights are largely mental, while maternal ones are largely physical in character. Thus, to the father one owes unselfish devo­tion, veneration, obedience, praise, etc., and to the mother, the provision of food, clothes, and other physical comforts.

Lastly, servants are to home as hands and legs are to man. Tusi recommends that they should be treated benevolently, so that they may be inspired to identify their interests with those of their master. The underlying idea is that they should serve out of love, regard, and hope, and not out of necessity compulsion, and fear, which affect adversely the interests of the home.

To sum up: Home for Tusi is the centre of domestic life. Income, saving, expenditure, and the discipline of wife, children, and servants, all revolve round the general welfare of the family group as a whole.

Politics

Farabi's Siyasat al-Madinah and Ara' Ahl al-Madinat al-Fadilah form the first attempt towards the philosophical formulation of a political theory in the Muslim world. He used `ilm al-madani both in the sense of the civic science and the science of government. Following him, Tusi has also used siyasat-i mudun in both of these senses. In fact, his treatment of the need for civic society (tamad­dun) and the types of social groups and cities is largely derived from Farabi's views on the subject.35

Man is by nature a social being. To substantiate his position, Tusi refers to insan, the Arabic word for man, which literally means to be gregarious or associating. Since this natural sociability36 (uns-i taba'i) is characteristically human, it follows that the perfection of man consists in evincing this character­istic fully towards his fellow-beings. Civilization is another name for this perfection. It is for this reason that Islam has emphasized the superiority of congregational prayers over those offered in isolation.

The word tamaddun is derived from madinah (city) which means living together of men belonging to different professions for the purpose of helping one another in their needs. Since no man is self-sufficient, everyone is in need of help and co-operation from others. Wants differ from man to man and the same is true of the motives which induce one to co-operation. Some seek co-operation for the sake of pleasure; others are prompted by the consideration of profit; and still others aim at goodness or virtue. This diversity in the causes of co-operation leads to conflict of interests resulting in aggression and in­justice. Thus arises the need for government to keep everyone content with his rightful lot without infringing the legitimate rights of others.

Administra­tion of justice, therefore, is the chief function of a government, which should be headed by a just king, who is the second arbitrator, the first being the divine Law. He can exercise royal discretion in minor details according to the exigencies of time and occasion, but this too should conform to the general principles of the divine Law. Such a king, Tusi concludes, is the vicegerent of God upon earth, and the physician of the world temper.

As to the qualities of this monarch, he should be graced with the nobility of birth, loftiness of purpose, sobriety of judgment, firmness of determination, endurance of hardship, large-heartedness, and righteous friends. His first and foremost duty is to consolidate the State by creating affection among its friends and disaffection among its enemies, and by promoting unity among the savants, warriors, agriculturists, and business men - the four constituents of the State.

Tusi then proceeds to lay down the principles of war ethics for the guidance of rulers. The enemy should never be taken lightly, however lowly he might be, but at the same time war should be avoided at all costs, even through diplo­matic tricks, without resorting to perfidy.37 But if the eonfiict becomes inevitable, offensive should be taken only in the name of God and that too with the unanimous approval of the army. The army should be led by a man of dashing spirit, sound judgment, and experience in warfare.

Tnsi particularly emphasizes the maintenance of an efficient secret service to have vigilance over the movements of the enemy. Again, diplomacy demands that the enemy should, as far as possible, be taken prisoner rather than killed, and there should be no killing after the final victory, for clemency is more befitting a king than vengeance. In the case of a defensive stand, the enemy should be overtaken by ambush or surprise attack, provided the position is strong enough; otherwise no time should be lost in digging trenches building fortresses, and even in negotiating for peace by offering wealth and using diplomatic devices.

Tusi, being the wazir of Hulagu, was well aware of the degeneration of monarchy into absolute despotism, and, therefore, advised the attendants upon kings to avoid seeking close contact with them, for being in their company is in no way better than associating with fire. No office is more perilous than that of a minister to a king, and the minister has no greater safeguard against the jealousies of the Court and the vagaries of the royal mood than his trust­worthiness.

The minister should guard jealously the secrets confided to him, and should not be inquisitive about what is withheld from him. Tusi was held in great esteem by the Mongol chief, yet he agrees with Ibn Muqna`, that the closer one may be to the king, the greater should he show his respect to him, so much so that if the king calls him “brother,” he should address him as “lord.”

Source Of Practical Philosophy

According to Tusi, the Qur'anic injunctions relate to man as an individual, as a member of a family, and as an inhabitant of a city or State.38 This three­fold division is evidently suggestive of the classification of practical philosophy into ethics, domestics, and politics by Muslim thinkers. The same is true of the content of these sciences; but it is no less true that later on these disciplines were considerably broadened under the influence of Plato and Aristotle. Shushtery's remark that “ethics was the only subject in which the East did not imitate the West,” and that “the only influence which the West could bring to bear upon the East in connection with this subject, was the method of scientific treatment,”39 is more true of domestics and politics, where Greek influence is least traceable, than of ethics proper.

Psychology

Instead of proving the existence of the soul, Tusi starts with the assumption that it is a self-evident reality and as such it needs no proof. Nor is it capable of being proved. In a case like this, reasoning out of one's own existence is a logical impossibility and absurdity, for an argument presupposes an argu­mentator and a subject for argument, but in this case both are the same, viz., the soul.

Nature of the Soul

The soul is a simple, immaterial substance which perceives by itself. It controls the body through the muscles and sense-organs, but is itself beyond the perception of the bodily instruments. After reproducing Ibn Miskawaih's arguments for the incorporeality of the soul from its indivisi­bility, its power of assuming fresh forms without losing the previous ones, its conceiving opposite forms at one and the same time, and its correcting sense­ illusions,40 Tusi adds two of his own arguments.

Judgments of logic, physics, mathematics, theology, etc., all exist in one soul without intermingling, and can be recalled with characteristic clarity, which is not possible in a material substance; therefore, soul is an immaterial substance. Again, physical accom­modation is limited and finite, so that a hundred persons cannot be accom­modated at a place meant for fifty people, but this is not true of the soul. It has, so to say, sufficient capacity to accommodate all the ideas and concepts of the objects it knows, with plenty of room for fresh acquisition.41 This too proves that the soul is a simple, immaterial substance.

In the common expression “My head, my ear, my eye,” the word “my”42 indicates the individuality (huwiyyah) of the soul, which possesses these organs, and not its incorporeality. The soul does require a body as a means to its perfection, but it is not what it is because of its having a body.

Faeulties of the Soul

To the vegetative, animal, and human soul of his predecessors, Tusi adds an imaginative soul which occupies an intermediate position between the animal and the human soul. The human soul is charac­terized with intellect (nutq) which receives knowledge from the first intellect. The intellect is of two kinds, theoretical and practical, as conceived by Aristotle.

Following Kindi, Tusi considers the theoretical intellect to be a potentiality, the realization of which involves four stages, viz., the material intellect (`aql-i hayulani), the angelic intellect ('aql-i malaki), the active intellect ('aql-i bi al-fi`l), and the acquired intellect ('aql-i mustafad). It is at the stage of the acquired intellect that every conceptual form potentially contained in the soul becomes apparent to it, like the face of a man reflected in a mirror held before him. The practical intellect, on the other hand, is concerned with voluntary and purposive action. Its potentialities are, therefore, realized through moral, domestic, and political action.

The imaginative soul is concerned with sensuous perceptions, on the one hand, and with rational abstractions, on the other, so that if it is united with the animal soul, it becomes dependent upon it, and decays with it. But if it is associated with the human soul, it becomes independent of the bodily organs, and shares the happiness or misery of the soul with its immortality. After the separation of the soul from the body, a trace of imagination remains in its form, and the punishment and reward of the human soul depend upon this trace (hai'at) of what the imaginative soul knew or did in this world.43

The sensitive and calculative imagination of Aristotle apparently constitutes the structure of Tusi's imaginative soul, but his bringing the imaginative soul into relation with an elaborate theory of punishment and reward in the hereafter is his own.

As a matter of tradition handed down from Ibn Sina and Ghazali,44 Tusi believes in the localization of functions in the brain. He has located common sense (hiss-i mushtarak) in the first ventricle of the brain, perception (musaw­wirah) in the beginning of the first part of the second ventricle, imagination, in the fore part of the third ventricle, and memory in the rear part of the brain.

Metaphysics

According to Tusi, metaphysics proper consists of two parts, the science of divinity ('ilm-i Ilahi) and the first philosophy (falsefah-i ula). The knowledge of God, intellects, and souls constitutes the science of divinity, and the know­ledge of the universe and the universals constitutes the first philosophy. The knowledge of the categories of unity and plurality, necessity and contingency, essence and existence, eternity and transitoriness also forms part of the latter.

Among the accessories (furu`) of metaphysics fall the knowledge of pro­phethood (nubuwwat), spiritual leadership (imamat), and the Day of Judgment (qiyamat). The range of the subject itself suggests that metaphysics is “of the essence of Islamic philosophy and the realm of its chief contribution to the history of ideas.”45

God

After denying the logical possibility of atheism and of an ultimate duality, Tusi, unlike Farabi, Ibn Miskawaih, and Ibn Sina, argues that logic and metaphysics miserably fall short of proving the existence of God on rational grounds. God being the ultimate cause of all proofs, and, therefore, the foundation of all logic and metaphysics, is Himself independent of logical proof. Like the fundamental laws of formal logic, Ile neither requires nor lends Himself to proof. He is an a priori, fundamental, necessary, and self-­evident principle of cosmic logic, and His existence is to be assumed and postulated rather than proved. From the study of moral life as well, he arrives at a similar conclusion and, like Kant in modem times, regards the existence of God as a fundamental postulate of ethics.

Tusi further argues that proof implies perfect comprehension of the thing to be proved, and since it is impossible for the finite man to comprehend God in His entirety, it is impossible for him to prove His existence.46

Creatio ex nihilo

Whether the world is eternal (qadim) or was created by God ex nihilo (hadith), is one of the most vexing problems of Muslim philosophy. Aristotle advocated the eternity of the world, attributing its motion to the creation of God, the Prime Mover. Ibn Miskawaih agreed with Aristotle in regarding God as the creator of motion but, unlike him, reasoned out that the world, both in its form and matter, was created by God ex nihilo.

Tusi in his Tasawwurat (written during the period of Isma`ilite patronage) effects a half-hearted reconciliation between Aristotle and ibn Miskawaih. He begins by criticizing the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo. The view that there was a time when the world did not exist and then God created it out of nothing, obviously implies that God was not a creator before the creation of the world or His creative power was still a potentiality which was actualized later, and this is a downright denial of His eternal creativity. Logically, therefore, God was always a creator which implied the existence of creation or world with Him. The world, in other words, is co-eternal with God. Here Tusi closes the discus­sion abruptly with the remark that the world is eternal by the power of God who perfects it, but in its own right and power, it is created (muhdath).

In a later work, Fusul (his famous and much commented metaphysical treatise), Tusi abandons the above position altogether and supports the orthodox doctrine of creatio ex nihilo, without any reservation. Classifying Being into the necessary and the possible, he argues that the possible depends for its existence on the necessary; and since it exists by other than itself, it cannot be assumed in a state of existence, for the creation of the existent is impossible and absurd. And that which is not in existence is non-existent, and so the Necessary Being creates the possible out of nothing. Such a process is called creation and the existent, the created (muhdath).

Similarly, in Tasawwurat, Tusi agrees with Ibn Sina that from one nothing can proceed except one, and following this principle explains the emanation (sudur) of the world from the Necessary Being after the Neo-Platonic fashion. In Risaleh-i `Aql, Risaleh-i ‘Ilal wa Ma`lulat, and Sharh-i Isharat too, he supports, both logically and mathematically, pluralization in the creative process taken as a whole. But in later works, Qawa'id at-`Aqa'id, Tajrid al-`Aqa'id, and Fusul, he evidently attacks and blows up the very foundation of this principle, once held so dearly by him.

The reflection of the first intellect is said to have created the intellect, soul, and body of the first sphere. This position, he now points out, obviously implies plurality in what is created by the first intellect, which goes against the principle that from one nothing can proceed except one. As to the source of plurality, he further argues that it exists either by the authority of God or without His authority. If it exists by the authority of God, then there is no doubt that it has come from God. If, on the other hand, it exists without the authority of God, that would mean the setting up of another god besides God.47

Again, in Tasawwurat, Tusi holds the view that God's reflection is equivalent to creation and is the outcome of His self-conscious necessity. But in Fusul, he abandons this position as well. He now regards God as a free creator and blows up the theory of creation out of necessity. If God creates out of necessity, he argues, His actions should spring out of His essence. Thus, if a part of the world becomes non-existent, the essence of God should also pass into nothingness; for the cause of its non-existence is conditioned by the non-existence of a part of its cause, the non-existence of which is further deter­mined by the non-existence of the other parts of its cause and so on. And since all existents depend for their existence on the necessity of God, their non­existence ultimately leads to the non-existence of God Himself.48

Prophethood

After establishing freedom of the will and resurrection of the body, Tusi proceeds to establish the necessity of prophethood and spiritual leadership. Conflict of interests coupled with individual liberty results in the disintegration of social life, and this necessitates a divine Code from God for the regulation of human affairs. But God Himself is beyond all sensory apprehension; there­fore, He sends prophets for the guidance of peoples. This, in turn, makes necessary the institution of spiritual leadership after the prophets to enforce the divine Code.

Good And Evil

Good and evil are found mixed up in this world. The obtrusiveness of evil is inconsistent with the benevolence of God. To avoid this difficulty, Zoroastrians attributed light and good to Yazdan and darkness and evil to Ahriman. But the existence of two equal and independent principles itself involves a metaphysical inconsistency. Rejecting the view on this ground, Tusi explains away the reality and objectivity of evil with the enthusiasm of Ibn Sina, his spiritual progenitor.

According to Tusi, the good proceeds from God and the evil springs up as an accident ('ard) in its way. The good, for instance, is a grain of wheat thrown into the soil and watered, so that it grows into a plant and yields a rich crop. The evil is like the foam which appears on the surface of the water. The foam evidently comes from the water-courses and not from the water itself. Thus, there is no evil principle in the world, but as an accident it is a necessary concomitant or by-product of matter.

In the human world, evil is occasioned by an error of judgment or through a misuse of the divine gift of free-will. God by Himself aims at universal good, but the veils of the senses, imagination, fancy and thought hang before our sight and cloud the mental vision. Thus, prudence fails to foresee the conse­quences of actions, resulting in wrong choice, which in turn begets evil.

Again, our judgment of evil is always relative and metaphorical, that is, it is always with reference to something. When, for instance, fire burns a poor man's cottage or flood sweeps away a village, a verdict of evil is invariably passed on fire and water. But in reality there is nothing evil in fire or water; rather their absence would constitute an absolute evil in comparison to the partial evil occasionally caused by their presence.

Lastly, evil is the outcome of ignorance, or the result of some physical disability, or the lack of something which provides for the good. The absence of day is night, the lack of wealth is poverty, and the absence of good is evil. In essence, therefore, evil is the absence of something - a negative, not a positive something.49

To the question why a finite sin is dealt with infinite punishment by God, Tusi replies that it is a mistake to attribute either reward or punishment to God. Just as the virtuous, by nature and necessity, deserve eternal bliss and happiness, so the vicious by nature and necessity deserve eternal punish­ment and despair.

Logic

On logic, his works include Asas al-Iqtibas, Sharh-i Mantiq al-Isharat, Ta'dil al-Mi`yar, and Tajrid fi al-Mantiq. The first of these gives a comprehen­sive and lucid account of the subject in Persian on the lines of Ibn Sina's logic in al-Shifa'.

Tusi regards logic both as a science and as an instrument of science. As a science, it aims at the cognition of meanings and that of the quality of the meanings cognized; as an instrument, it is the key to the understanding of different sciences. When knowledge of meanings as well as of the quality of meanings becomes so ingrained in the mind that it no longer requires the exercise of thought and reflection, the science of logic becomes a useful art (san`at), freeing the mind from misunderstanding, on the one hand, and per­plexity, on the other.50

Having defined logic, Tusi, like Ibn Sina, begins with a brief discussion of the theory of knowledge. All knowledge is either a concept (tasawwur) or a judgment (tasdiq); the former is acquired through definition and the latter through syllogism. Thus, definition and syllogism are the two instruments with which knowledge is acquired.

Unlike Aristotle, Ibn Sina had divided all syllogisms into the copulative (iqtirani) and the exceptive (istithna'i). Tusi has followed this division and elaborated it in his own way. His logical works are Aristotelian in general outline, but he mentions four51 instead of three syllogistic figures; and the source of this fourth figure is found neither in the Organon of Aristotle nor in any of the logical works of Ibn Sina.52

Review

Tusi, as we have already seen, owes his ethics to Ibn Miskawaih and politics to Farabi; but neither of them reaches the depth and the extent of Ibn Sina's influence over him. Tusi's logic, metaphysics, psychology, domestics, and dogmatics - all are substantially borrowed from him. Besides, his long though casual connection with the Nizari Isma`ilites also influenced his ethical, psychological, and metaphysical speculations.

Historically speaking, his position is mainly that of a revivalist. But from the standpoint of the history of culture, even the revival of the philosophical and scientific tradition, especially in an era of political and intellectual decline, though marked by tiresome erudition and repetition, is no less important than origination, inasmuch as it prepares the ground for the intellectual rebirth of a nation.

Bibliography

Miskawaih, Tahdhib al-Akhlaq wa Ta’thir al-A'raq, Egypt, 1329/1911;

Al-Ghazali, Mizan al-`Amal, Egypt, 1328/1910;

Nasir al-Din Tusi, Akhlaq-i Nasiri, Lucknow, 1942; Tasawwurat, ed. Ivanow, Bombay, 1950; Ausaf al-Ashraf, ed. Nasr Allah Taqwi, Teheran, 1941; Fusul, ed. M. T. Danish Pazhuh, Teheran, 1956; Seh Guftar-i Tusi, Teheran, 1956; Asas al-Iqtibas, ed. Mudarris Ridwi, Teheran, 1947;

Yad­nameh-i Khwajah Nasir al-Din Tusi, Teheran University, Teheran, 1957;

Aqa-i 'Ali Akbar Zand, “Khwajah Nasir al-Din Tusi,” Quarterly Hilal, Pakistan, Nov. 1956;

Al-Farabi, Ara Ahl al-Madinat al-Fadilah, ed. F. Dieterici, Leiden, 1895; Kitab al-Siyasat al-Madaniyyah, Hyderabad Decean, 1336/1917;

'Abd al-Salam Nadawi, Hukama'-i Islam, Azamgarh, Vol. I, 1953, Vol. II, 1956;

M. Yunus Ansari, Ibn Rushd, Azamgarh, 1342/1923;

S. M. Afnan, Avicenna, London, 1958;

C. Brockel­mann, Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, Leiden, 1943, Suppl., 1937;

A. M. A. Shushtery, Outlines of Islamic Culture, Bangalore, 1938;

R. Levy, The Sociology of Islam, 2 Vols., London, 1933;

R. Briffault, The Making of Humanity, London, 1919;

D. M. Donaldson, Studies in Muslim Ethics, London, 1953;

P. K. Hitti, History of the Arabs, London, 1958;

T. W. Arnold and A. Gillaume (Eds.), The Legacy of Islam, London, 1952;

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, tr. D. P. Chase, Oxford, 1847;

E.G. Browne, Literary History of Persia, 4 Vols., London, 1906-28;

Encyclopaedia of Islam, London, 1908-38;

M. M. Sharif, Muslim Thought: Its Origin and Achievements, Lahore, 1951;

T. J. de Boer, The History of Philosophy in Islam, tr. E. R. Jones, London, 1903.

Notes

1. Zand's article on Tusi in Hilal, November 1956, Karachi.

2. Ivanow, Tasawwurat,.p. xxv.

3. Encyclopaedia of Islam, Vol. IV, p. 980.

4. After passing into the service of Hulagu, Tusi, in the preface to Zij al-Ilkhani, referred to his connection with the Isma'llites as “casual” (Ivanow, op cit., p xxv) and also “rescinded” the dedication of Akhlaq-i Nasiri to Nasir aI-Din 'Abd al­-Rahim, his Isma’ili patron at Quhistan (Browne, Literary History of Persia, Vol. II, p. 456)

5. Encyclopaedia of Islam, Vol. IV, 981.

6. P. K. Hitti, History of the Arabs, p. 378.

7. Aidin Sayili's article in Yadnameh-i Tusi, Teheran University, Teheran, 1957, p. 61.

8. Hukuma’-i Islam, Vol.II, p.256.

9. Yadnameh-i Tusi, p.66.

10. Browne, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 485.

11. Asas al-Iqtibas, p.YB.

12. Browne, op. cit, Vol. III, p. 18.

13. Ivanow, op.cit., p. lxv.

14. Afnan, Avicenna, p.244.

15. Encyclopaedia of Islam, Vol. IV, p. 981.

16. Geschichte der arabischen Litteratur, Suppl., Vol. 1, pp. 670-76.

17. Ivanow, op. cit., p. xxvi.

18. Asas, pp. YJ-YH

19. Encyclopaedia of Islam, Vol. I, p. 933.

20. Akhlaq-i Nasiri, p. 5.

21. Ibid., p.6.

22. Ibid., p.145.

23. Ibid., p.175.

24. Ibid., p.6.

25. Ibid., p.44.

26. Ibid., p.61.

27. Aristotle regards “prodigality” as the extreme of liberality on the side of excess, and hence a positive vice, although it is for him “no sign of meanness, but only of folly” (Nichomachean Ethics, p. 105).

28. Qur’an, ii, 190; v,2.

29. Ibid., ii, 10.

30. Akhlaq-i Nasiri, p.114.

31. Ghazali, Ihya’, Vol.III, Chap.III

32. Ausaf al-Ashraf, p.1

33. Akhlaq-i Nasiri, p.145. The treatise referred to by Tusi is Kitab al-Siyasat, ed. Ma’luf, Beirut, 1911.

34. Tahdhib al-Akhlaq, pp.46-54.

35. Ara' Ahl al-Madinat al-Fadilah, pp. 53-85; Siyasat at-Madaniyyah, pp. 1-76.

36. Compare this theory of natural sociability with Hobbes' view of man as “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short” (Roger, Students' History of Philosophy, p. 245).

37. Compare it with Machiavellian ethics of “force and fraud.' “A ruler will perish if he is always good. He must be as cunning as a fox and as fierce as a lion” (Bertrand Russell, A History of Western Philosophy, p. 528).

38. Akhlaq-i Nasiri, p.10.

39. Outlines of Islamic Culture, Vol. II, p. 441

40. Tahdhib al-Akhlaq, pp.3-7.

41. Tasawwurat, p.25.

42. Every body belongs to a soul, according to this argument. In modern times, William James too has used the same argument to prove that every thought belongs to a mind. “It seems as if the elementary psychic facts were not thought, this thought or that thought, but my thought, every thought being owned.” W. James, Psychology (Briefer Course), p. 153

43. Tasawwurat, p.23.

44. Ghazali has located retention (hafizah) in the first ventricle (tajwif) of the fore part of the brain, imagination (wahmiyyah) in the middle ventricle of the brain, thought (tafakkur) in the middle of the brain, and recollection (tadhakkur) in the rear verticle of the brain. (Mizan al-`Amal, p. 25.).

45. Afnan, op.cit., p.106.

46. Tasawwurat, p.8.

47. Fusul, p.18.

48. Ibid., pp. 16-18.

49. Tasawwurat, p.44.

50. Asas al-Iqtibas, p.5.

51. Ibid., p.379.

52. Afnan, op.cit., p.101.

Chapter 13: Maturidism

Maturidism by A.K.M Ayyub Ali, M.A, Ph.D, Principal Government Rajshahi Madrasah, Rajshahi (Pakistan)

A detailed discussion of the fundamental principles of Islam led Muslim scholars in the second and third/eighth and ninth centuries of Hijrah to philo­sophical reasonings on the nature and attributes of God and His relation to man and the universe. As a result, a new science of Muslim scholasticism called 'Ilm al‑Kalam came into being.

As a matter of fact, it was the Mu'tazilites who laid the foundation of this new science and made lasting contributions for its development. They started their movement by adopting a rational attitude in respect of some theological questions, but when they reached the height of their power, they adopted an aggressive attitude towards their opponents. The orthodox Muslims opposed the Mu'tazilite movement from the very beginning and tried to refute their doctrines by the traditional method. A section of the orthodox people took recourse even to violent methods.

Conflicting ideas and antagonistic attitudes created chaos and confusion in Muslim thought and shook the foundation of old ideas and traditional beliefs. The need for reconciliation and solving the crisis by adopting a middle course and a tolerant attitude was keenly felt. At this critical period of the history of Muslim theology there appeared, in three parts of the Muslim world, three eminent scholars: al‑Maturidi in Central Asia, al‑Ash'ari in Iraq, and al­-Tahawi in Egypt.

They all endeavoured to reconcile conflicting ideas and settle the theological problems of the time by adopting a system that would satisfy reason and conform to the general tenets of the Qur'an and the Sunnah. They exercised profound and lasting influence on the subsequent development of Muslim philosophy and theology and were considered to be the fathers of the three schools of thoughts named after them.

Ash'arism and Tahawism have been dealt with in separate chapters; here we are concerned with Maturidism.

Life and Works of Maturidi

Abu Mansur Muhammad b. Muhammad b. Mahmud, al‑Maturidi, al‑Ansari, al‑Hanafi, was born at Maturid,1 a village or quarter in the neighbourhood of Samarqand, one of the great cities of Central Asia. According to some writers, he came of the renowned family of Abu Ayyub al‑Ansari of Madinah.2

This statement is also corroborated by the fact that some other Arab families of Madinah also settled in Samarqand3 and that al‑Maturidi's daughter was married to al‑Hasan al‑Ash'ari, the father of Imam Abu al‑Hasan `Ali al­ Ash'ari and a descendant of Abu Ayyub al Ansari of Madinah.4

Almost all the biographers who give only short sketches of al‑Maturidi's life in their works agree that he died in the year 333/944, but none of them mentions the date of his birth. One of the teachers of al‑Maturidi, namely, Muhammad b. Muqatil al‑Razi is stated to have died in 248/862, which proves that al‑Maturidi was born before that year and possibly about the year 238/853. According to this assumption, al‑Maturidi was born during the reign of the 'Abbasid Caliph al‑Mutawakkil (r. 232‑247/847‑861) who combated the Mu'tazilite doctrines and supported the traditional faith5 .

Al‑Maturidi flourished under the powerful rule of the Samanids, who ruled practically the whole of Persia from 261/874 to 389/999 actively patronized science and literature, and gathered around their Court as number of renowned scholars.6 He was brought up in the peaceful academic atmosphere and cultural environment of his native land and received good education in different Islamic sciences under four eminent scholars of his time: Shaikh Abu Bakr Ahmad b. Ishaq, Abu Nasr Ahmad b. al‑`Abbas known as al‑Faqih al‑Samar­qandi, Nusair b. Yahya al‑Balkhi (d. 268/881), and Muhammad b. Muqatil al‑Razi (d. 248,/862), Qadi of Rayy. All of them were students of Imam Abu Hanifah (d. 150/767)7

In recognition of his scholarship and profound knowledge in theology (and his invaluable services to the cause of Ahl al‑sunnah w‑al‑jama'ah) people conferred on him the title of Imam al‑Huda and Imam al‑Mutakallimin. Mahmud al‑Kufawi mentioned him as “leader of guidance, the model of the Sunnite and the guided, the bearer of the standard of Ahl al‑sunnah w‑al ­jama'ah, the uprooter of misguidance arising from disorder and heresies, leader of the scholastics, and rectifier of the faith of the Muslims.8

Works ‑ Al‑Maturidi wrote a number of important books on Tafsir, Kalam, and Usul, a list of which is given below:

1. Kitab Tawilat al‑Qur'an or Tawilat Ahl al‑Sunnah.

2. Kitab Ma'khadh al‑Shari'ah.

3. Kitab al‑Jadal.

4. Kitab al‑Usul (Usul al‑Din).

5. Kitab al‑Maqalat.

6. Kitab al‑ Tauhid.

7. Kitab Bayan Wahm al‑Mu'tazilah.

8. Kitab Radd Awa'il al‑Adillah li al‑Ka'bi.

9. Kitab Radd Tahdhib al‑Jadal li al‑Ka'bi.

10. Kitab Radd Wa'id al‑Fussaq li al‑Ka'bi.

11. Radd al Usul al‑Khamsah li abi Muhammad al‑ Bahili.

12. Radd Kitab al‑Imamah li ba'd al‑Rawafid.

13. Kitab al‑Radd `ala al‑Qaramitah9

Unfortunately, not a single work of al‑Maturidi has so far been published. His Tawilat al‑Qur'an, Kitab al‑Tauhid, and Kitab al‑Maqalat which are by far the most important and valuable of all his works, exist only in manu­scripts. The Tawilat al‑Qur'an is a commentary on the Qur'an in the scholastic method in which he endeavoured to establish the liberal orthodox theology, both traditionally and rationally, and to provide for it a sound basis.10 Com­menting on this momentous work, Sheikh `Abd al‑Qadir al‑Qarashi says, “A unique book with which no book of the earlier authors on this subject can have any comparison.”11

In his Kitab al‑Tauhid, al‑Maturidi gave an elaborate exposition of his system and sought to harmonize the extreme views of both the traditionists and the rationalists. The book bears testimony to his broad outlook, deep insight, and intimate acquaintance with the philosophical systems of his time.

The evidence at our disposal at present shows that al‑Maturidi was the first Mutakalim to introduce the doctrine of the sources of human knowledge in a book on theology such as Kitab al‑Tauhid and thereby made a thorough attempt to build up his system on a sound philosophical basis. This method was followed by other theologians and the subject was later on elaborately treated by the Ash'arite scholars, al‑Baqillani (d. 403/1013), and al‑Baghdadi (d. 429/1037).

Al‑Maturidi is one of the pioneers amongst the Hanafite scholars who wrote on the principles of jurisprudence and his two works Ma'khadh al‑Shari'ah and Kitab al‑Jadal are considered to be authoritative on the subject.12

It is evident from the list of works written by al‑Maturidi that he took great care to refute the views and ideas of the Qarmatians, the Shiites, and especially those of the Mu'tazilites. His contemporary abu al‑Qasim `Abd Allah al‑Ka'bi (d. 317/929) was the leader of the Mu'tazilite school of Baghdad.13 Al‑Maturidi combated the doctrines of al‑Ka'bi in his Kitab al‑Tauhid and wrote three books on criticism of al‑Ka'bi's three books. It may be observed here that while al‑Maturidi in the East engaged himself in fighting the Mu'tazilites in general and particularly the Baghdad group, his contemporary al‑Ash'ari in Iraq took a prominent part in resisting the Mu'tazilites of Basrah. But it appears to us that al‑Maturidi began his movement long before al‑Ash'ari appeared on the scene and most probably while the latter was still in the Mu'tazilite camp.14

Method

Al‑Maturidi in his Kitab al‑Tauhid gave a short critical account of the different views regarding the matter and sources of human knowledge and the best method to be followed in order to acquire knowledge. Means of acquiring knowledge, according to him, are three: (1) Sense‑organs (al‑a'yan); (2) Reports (al‑akhbar); (3) Reason (al‑nazr).

He severely criticized the conflicting views of different groups who thought that knowledge is not attainable at all, or that senses cannot supply true knowledge, or that reason alone is sufficient to give us all knowledge. Refuting the views of those who deny or doubt the possibility of knowledge altogether or the possibility of acquiring knowledge through sense‑organs, al‑Maturidi says that even animals perceive by their senses what may preserve or destroy them and what may be useful or harmful to them.

So theoretical arguments with those who pretend to deny the objective reality of things is useless. Yet he says, they may be humorously asked: “Do you know what you deny?” If they say “No,” their denial stands cancelled, but if they answer affirmatively, they admit the reality of their denial and thereby become opposers of their opposing. A more effective way than this is to make them subject to physical torture so that they may be compelled to admit what they deny of the reality of sensuous knowledge.

Reports are the means of acquiring knowledge concerning genealogy, past occurrences, remote countries, useful and harmful things, foodstuffs, medicine, etc. These are of two kinds, historical reports (khabr al‑mutawatir) and reports of the prophets (khabr al‑rusul), possessing sure signs to prove their honesty. Though both kinds of reports are proved to be sources of knowledge, we should be very critical in accepting reports of the prophets, because they are handed down through chains of narrators who are not infallible and who may commit mistakes in reporting.

Those who reject report as a source of knowledge are, al‑Maturidi asserts, like those who reject sensuous knowledge. In order to convince them, they should be physically tortured and if they complain of pain, they should be told: Your words of complaint are nothing but reports which cannot give us any real knowledge.15

Reason, according to al‑Maturidi, is the most important of all other sources of knowledge, because without its assistance sense and report can give no real knowledge. Knowledge of metaphysical realities and moral principles is derived through this source. It is reason which distinguishes men from animals. Al‑Maturidi has pointed out many cases where nothing but reason can reveal the truth. This is why the Qur'an repeatedly enjoins man to think, to ponder, and to judge by reason in order to find out the truth. Refuting the ideas of those who think that reason cannot give true knowledge, he says that they cannot prove their doctrine without employing reason.16

Reason, no doubt, occupies a very eminent place in the system of al-­Maturidi, but it cannot give, he holds, true knowledge concerning everything that we require to know. Like senses, it has a limit beyond which it cannot go. Sometimes the true nature of the human intellect is obscured and influenced by internal and external factors such as desire, motive, habit, environment, and association, and, as a result, it even fails to give us true knowledge of things that are within its own sphere. Divergent views and conflicting ideas of the learned concerning many a problem are mentioned by al‑Maturidi as one of the proofs in support of his statement.

Hence, reason often requires, he asserts, the service of a guide and helper who will protect it from straying, lead it to the right path, help it understand delicate and mysterious affairs, and know the truth. This guide, according to him, is the divine revelation received by a prophet. If anyone will deny the necessity of this divine guidance through revelation and claim that reason alone is capable of giving us all the knowledge we need, then he will certainly overburden his reason and oppress it quite unreasonably.17

The necessity of the divine revelation is not restricted, according to al­-Maturidi, to religious affairs only, but its guidance is required in many worldly affairs too. The discovery of the different kinds of foodstuffs, medicine, inven­tion of arts and crafts, etc., are the results of this divine guidance. Human intellect cannot give any knowledge in respect of many of these matters, and if man had to rely solely on individual experience for the knowledge of all these things, then human civilization could not have made such rapid progress.18

Al‑Maturidi refutes the idea of those who think that the individual mind is the basis of knowledge and criterion of truth. He also does not regard in­spiration (ilham) as a source of knowledge. Inspiration, he argues, creates chaos and conflicts in the domain of knowledge, makes true knowledge impossible, and is ultimately liable to lead humanity to disintegration and destruction for want of a common standard of judgment and universal basis for agreement.19

It is evident from this brief account that reason and revelation both occupy a prominent place in the system of al‑Maturidi. The articles of religious belief are derived, according to him, from revelation, and the function of reason is to understand them correctly. There can be no conflict between reason and revelation if the real purport of the latter be correctly understood. His method of interpreting the Scriptures may be outlined in the following words: The passages of the Holy Qur'an which appear to be ambiguous or the meanings of which are obscure or uncertain (mubham and mushtabah) must be taken in the light of the verses that are self‑explaining and precise (muhkam).

Where the apparent sense of a verse contradicts what has been established by the “precise” (muhkam) verses, it must then be believed that the apparent sense was never intended, because there cannot be contradiction in the verses of the Holy Qur'an, as God has repeatedly declared. In such cases, it is per­missible to interpret the particular verse in the light of the established truth (tawil) or to leave its true meaning to the knowledge of God (tafwid).20

The difference between the attitude of al‑Maturidi and that of the Mu'tazilites in this respect is quite fundamental. The latter formulated certain doctrines on rational grounds and then tried to support their views by the verses of the Holy Qur'an, interpreting them in the light of their doctrines. As regards the traditions of the Prophet, their attitude was to accept those which supported their views and to reject those which opposed them.21

Criticism of the Mu’taziltes

Al‑Maturidi always tried to adopt a middle course between the extreme Rationalists and the Traditionists. He would agree with the Mu'tazilites on many points, but would never accept the Aristotelian philosophy as a basis of religious doctrines. Similarly, he is in accord with the Traditionists on fundamentals, but is not ready to take the Qur'an and the Hadith always in their literal sense and thereby to fall into gross anthropomorphism.

He agrees with the Mu'tazilites that it is obligatory on the part of every rational being to acquire knowledge of the existence of God through his reason even if no messenger were sent by Aim for this purpose; that things are intrinsically good or bad and the Shari' (God) takes into consideration these values in His amr (command) and nahi (prohibition); that God has endowed man with reason through which he can often distinguish right from wrong.

But, contrary to the Mu'tazilites, he maintains that reason cannot be the final authority for human obligation and religious law. The basis of religious obligation, according to him, is revelation, not reason.22 It seems that al‑Maturidi's view on this question and on the authorship of human action, as will be seen, is mainly guided by the Qur'anic verses such as “To Him belong creation and command.”23

Al‑Maturidi bitterly criticized the Mu'tazilite doctrine of divine justice and unity. Their interpretation of divine justice led them to deny the all‑pervading will and power of God, His authorship of human action, and made Him quite helpless and subject to external compulsion. Divine grace and mercy find no place in their system as is evident from their view on grave sins. Their doctrine of al‑aslah (salutary) cannot explain satisfactorily the existence of evil, natural calamities, and sufferings of innocent children and animals.

According to their doctrine, man enjoys more power and freedom than the Creator of the universe. They did not follow, al‑Maturidi tried to prove, the explicit decisions of the Qur'an and the Sunnah, nor the dictates of sound reason.24 Their interpretation of tauhid reduced God to an unknown and unknowable non‑entity (ta'til).25

Their view that Non‑Being is a thing (al‑ma'dumu shai'un) only supports the atheists' doctrine of the eternity of the world, makes an eternal partner with God, and thereby contradicts the Qur'anic doctrines of creation and tauhid. They made God quite imperfect and subject to changes by denying His eternally creative function.26

Maturidi’s System

Al‑Maturidi built up his own system mainly on two principles: freedom from similitude (tanzih) and divine wisdom (hikmah). On the principle of freedom from similitude he opposes similitude (tashbih) and anthropomorphism (tajsim) in all their forms, without denying divine attributes. The anthropomorphic expressions used in the Qur'an like the hands, the face, the eyes of God, and His sitting on the Throne should not be taken in their ap­parent sense, because the literal interpretation of these expressions contradicts the explicit verses of the Qur'an.

These passages, therefore, should be inter­preted in the light of the clear passages of tanzih in a manner consistent with, the doctrine of tauhid, and permissible according to the usage and idiom of the Arabic language, or their true meanings should be left to the knowledge of God.27

On the principle of divine widom (hikmah) al‑Maturidi tried to reconcile the conflicting views of the Determinists (Jabrites) and the Mu'tazilites and prove for man certain amount of freedom, without denying the all‑pervading divine will, power, and decree. Wisdom means placing a thing in its own place; so divine wisdom comprises both justice ('adl) and grace and kindness (fadl). God possesses absolute power and His absoluteness is not subject to any external laws but His own wisdom.28

Al‑Maturidi applied this principle also to combat the Mu'tazilites' doctrine of al‑aslah (best) on the one hand, and the orthodox view that God may overburden his servants (taklif ma la yutaq) on the other. It is inconsistent with divine wisdom, which includes both justice and kindness, to demand from man performance of an act which is beyond his power, such as to command a blind man: “See,” or to command one who has no hands: “Stretch your hands.”29

Similarly, it would be an act of injustice if God would punish the believers in hell for ever or reward the infidels in paradise for ever.30 He agreed with the Mu'tazilites on these questions in opposition to the orthodox,31 but he strongly opposed the former's doctrine that God must do what is best for man.

This Mu'tazilite doctrine, he argues, places God under compulsion to do a particular act at a fixed time for the benefit of an individual and denies His freedom of action. It only proves the right of a man on Him and not the intrinsic value and merit of an action which the divine wisdom keeps in view. Moreover, this doctrine cannot solve the problem of evil. Al‑Maturidi, there­fore, maintains that divine justice consists not in doing what is salutary to an individual, but in doing an action on its own merit and in giving a thing its own place.32

After this brief outline, we give below a somewhat detailed account of al-Maturidi’s view on the most important theological problems of his time, viz., the relation between God and human action, divine attributes, and beatific vision.

Relation between God and Man

Al‑Maturidi in his Kitab al‑Tauhid and Tawilat al‑Qur'an has dealt at length with different aspects of this broad problem, the will, the power, the eternal decree, and the creative function of God; His wisdom and existence of evil in this world; freedom of man; and the basis of religious obligation and responsibility, etc.

Al‑Maturidi combated the views of the Jabrites and the Mu'tazilites on the above questions and he also disagreed with al‑Ash'ari on certain points. Refuting the absolute determinism of the Jabrites, he says that the relation between God and man should not be considered to be the same as that between God and the physical world. God has endowed man with reason, with the power of distinguishing between right and wrong, and with the faculties of thinking, feeling, willing, and judging, and has sent messengers and revealed books for his guidance.

Man inclines and directs his mind towards something which he thinks may benefit him, restrains himself from what he thinks will harm him, chooses one of the alternative courses of action by the exercise of his own reason, and thinks himself responsible for the merits or demerits of his actions.

Now, while he thinks, desires, inclines, chooses, and acts, he always considers himself quite free, and never thinks or feels that any outside agency compels him to do any of his actions. This consciousness of freedom, al‑Maturidi asserts, is a reality, the denial of which will lead to the denial of all human knowledge and sciences. Quoting passages from the Qur'an33 he also shows that the actions enjoined or prohibited by God are ascribed to men, and that they will be accountable for their “own” actions.

All this clearly proves that God has granted men freedom of choice and necessary power to perform an action. The denial of this freedom will mean that God is wholly responsible for all human actions and is liable to blame or punishment for sins committed by men, yet on the Day of Judgment He will punish them for His own actions. This is quite absurd, as God has described Himself in the Qur'an as the Most wise, just, and compassionate.34

But how can human freedom be reconciled with the Qur'anic conception of the all‑embracing divine will, power, eternal decree, and God's authorship of all human actions? Al‑Maturidi's explanations may be summed up as follows.

Creation belongs to God alone and all human actions, good or bad, are willed, decreed, and created by Him. Creation means bringing forth of an action from non‑existence into existence by one who possesses absolute power and complete knowledge in respect of that action. As man does not know all the circumstances, causes, conditions, or the results of his action, and does not possess within himself the requisite power for producing an action, he cannot be regarded as the creator (khaliq) of his action.

Now, when it is proved that God is the creator of all human actions, it will necessarily follow that He also wills these actions, because divine action must be preceded by divine will. So nothing can happen in the world against or without the will of God. But, though God wills and creates human actions, He is not liable to blame or accountable for their actions, because divine will is determined by divine knowledge and He creates the action when a man in the free exercise of his reason chooses and intends to perform an action.

Thus, God wills an action good or evil, which He knows a man will choose, and when ultimately he chooses and intends to acquire it God creates that act as a good or evil act for him. From this, it will be clear that God's willing or creating an evil action is not inconsistent with His wisdom and goodness.

Because, God wills the happening of the evil because He desires the individual to exercise free choice, but being wise and just He always prohibits the choice of evil. So, though sins are in accordance with His will, they are never in accordance with His command, pleasure, desire, or guidance. Sin, then, according to al‑Maturidi, consists not in going against the divine will, but in violating the divine law, command, guidance, pleasure, or desire.

The basis of man's obligation and responsibility (taklif), al‑Maturidi main­tains, does not consist in his possessing the power to create an action, but it is the freedom to choose (ikhtiyar) and the freedom to acquire an action (iktisab), conferred on man as a rational being, which make him responsible and accountable.35

As regards eternal divine decree (qada' and qadar) al‑Maturidi holds that it is not inconsistent with human freedom, nor does it imply any compulsion on the part of man, because it is an eternal record based on foreknowledge. God decrees the act He knows from eternity that a man will choose and acquire freely.

Man cannot deny his own responsibilities on the ground of the divine decree, al‑Maturidi adds; he cannot do so on account of time and space within which actions must be done. So, though man is not absolutely free, God has granted him necessary freedom consistent with his obligation and, therefore, the divine decree relating to human actions should not be regarded the same as in relation to the physical world.36

It may not be out of place to note here the points of difference between al‑Maturidi and al‑Ash'ari on this question. In order to make a man responsible for his action al‑Maturidi laid great stress, as we have just noticed, on the freedom of choice (ikhtiyar) and freedom of acquisition (iktisab). Divine will, decree, and foreknowledge do not deprive a man of this freedom.

An action is a man's own action, though created by God, because it is the result of his own choice and it has been acquired by him without any compulsion. God provided for him all the means and facilities for acquiring an action, endowed him with the power of judgment and self‑control, and granted him freedom to choose whatever means and course he prefers to adopt.

Al‑Ash'ari also used the term acquisition (kasb)37 but interpreted it differently. It seems that he did not favour the idea of the freedom of choice. According to him, God being omnipotent, all objects of power fall under His power, as God being omniscient all objects of knowledge fall under His knowledge. So a man's will has no effect or influence at all on his action; it is always determined by the divine will. Even the desire and power of acquisition fall under divine power and are the creation of God.38 Acquisition then; according to al‑Ash'ari, means only a general coincidence of the divine power anal human actions.

It is God who in reality creates as well as acquires the action through man. This view, as is evident, does not differ in essence from that of the Determinists and hence he was regarded by some writers as being one of them.39 Even most of the prominent Ash'arites like Qadi Abu Bakr al‑Baqillani (d. 403/1013), Shaikh Abu Ishaq al‑Isfara'ini, and Imam al‑Haramain al‑Juwaini (d. 478/ 1085) could not agree with him on this question and gave different interpreta­tions of the term kasb.40

Divine Attributes

Human languages do not possess any term, al‑Maturidi says, to explain the nature and attributes of God in a way that will not imply any idea of resemblance or comparison. Yet it is a necessity for human under­standing to ascribe some names and attributes to the Creator of the world. Giving a critical account of the views of the philosophers, the pluralists, the dualists, and the atheists, al‑Maturidi asserts that the belief in one Supreme Power and Ultimate Reality is universal, but the people differ greatly from one another in giving names and attributing qualities to this Supreme Being. Among the people of tauhid, it is only the Mu'tazilites, he says, who by denying the divine attributes and their eternity endangered this universal belief in the existence of one God.

Refuting the views of the Mu'tazilites on this question, he says that it is agreed that God has beautiful names and it will be quite futile to apply these names to Him divested of the meanings and contents which they imply; for otherwise it will not be unreasonable to ascribe to Him any name whatsoever. So, when, for example, it is said that God is wise, it must mean that He possesses the quality of wisdom. The denial of the divine attributes (ta'til) only creates confusions, makes the knowledge of God im­possible, and ultimately reduces Him to an unknown and unknowable Non­ Being. The denial of the eternity of the attributes makes God imperfect in the beginning and subject to changes, and, thus, it shakes the very basis of tauhid.

The idea of pluralism or anthropomorphism that may arise due to affirmation of the eternal attributes can easily be eradicated by firm belief in the absolute unity of God together with the idea of tanzih (denial of likeness and similitude) and mukhlafah (difference from the created being). Thus when we say that “God is knowing,” we also add to this (as a safeguard against any blasphemous idea concerning Him), “but not like the learned, and His knowledge is not like our knowledge.” The consequences of the denial of the divine attributes or their eternity are far more dangerous than those of their affirmation.

As regards the relation between divine essence and attributes, al‑Maturidi says that the problem is so complicated that no human reason can hope to solve it satisfactorily. So we should believe that God is one, has attributes which He ascribes to Himself, without similitude, comparison, and asking how. We should not go further than asserting that “the attributes are not identical with nor separated from His essence” (la huwa wa la ghairuhu).41

Al‑Maturidi also maintains that all the attributes of God whether belonging to His essence or action are eternal. The word takwin has been used to denote all the attributes pertaining to action such as creating, sustaining, etc. Takwin, according to al‑Maturidi, is an eternal attribute distinct from power (qudrah).

So God is the creator before and after the creation. This does not indicate in any way the eternity of the world, because as knowledge and power are eternal attributes, though the objects of knowledge and power are created, takwin is an eternal attribute, though the object of takwin (mukawwan) is created. The non‑existence of the world at the beginning does not imply God's inability, as He created it at the appropriate time in accordance with His eternal know­ledge and will.42

Al‑Ash'ari on this question is in agreement with the Mu'tazilites and holds that the attributes of action are originated.43 It seems to us that he agreed with them in order to evade the Aristotelian argument which aims at proving the eternity of the world by the eternal, creative power of God. Al‑Maturidi's main argument is that the idea of the createdness of any of the divine attributes is fundamentally opposed to the conception of God as a perfect, self‑subsistent, eternal Ultimate Reality and is, therefore, in conflict with the doctrine of tauhid.

As regards the Word of God (Kalam Allah), al‑Maturidi maintains that like all other attributes His attribute of speaking as well as His speech is eternal without similitude and comparison. The exact nature of this eternal speech or the attribute of speaking is not known, but it is certain that the divine speech cannot be composed of sounds and letters like human speech, because sounds and letters are created.

So, in reality, he asserts, only the “meaning” of which the words are an expression can be termed as the kalam of Allah. This “meaning” which existed with God from eternity can be heard and understood only through the medium of created sound.

Accordingly, Moses did not hear the eternal speech, but God made him hear and understand the eternal speech through created words and sounds. Now, what is heard by or revealed to the prophets is called the kalam of Allah figuratively (majazan) for three reasons: (1) They heard (understood) the purport (al‑ma'na) of the kalam, that is, divine command, prohibition, forbidding, sanctioning, etc., which belong to God alone. (2) God Himself composed it (allafa wa nazama); hence it was inimitable by any human being. (3) It explains the eternal speech and proves His attribute of speech.44

It is evident from the above account that al‑Maturidi refutes the idea of the orthodox section who identified the revealed Qur'an with the eternal speech, and he agrees in principle with the Mu'tazilites who held it to be a creation of God. So the subject of contention between him and the Mu'tazilites is not whether the recited Qur'an is created, but whether God has eternal speech and the attribute of speaking.

Al‑Ash'ari, like al‑Maturidi, maintains that God has eternal speech and the attribute of speaking,45 but it is not clear from his lengthy discourses in Kitab al‑Luma and al‑Ibanah what he exactly meant by kalam of Allah and what, according to him, was eternal in the Qur'an‑words or meanings? He maintained that the eternal speech could be heard directly without the medium of created sound.46

This statement, together with general trends of his ideas and his mode of reasonings as reflected in his printed books, corroborates a statement according to which both words and meanings were regarded by him as eternal.47 But al‑Shahrastani asserts that, according to al‑Ash'ari, the words are created and the “mental” meaning (al‑ma'na al‑nafsi) is eternal;48 this last is the view of all the eminent Ash'arites.49 If so, there is not much differ­ence on this question between the Mu'tazilites and the Ash'arites.

Beatific Vision

It has been noticed that al‑Maturidi, like the Mu'tazilites, strongly opposed the anthropomorphic idea of God and interpreted meta­phorically those passages of the Qur'an which appear to create such an impression. But on the question of seeing God in paradise by the believers, he is wholly in agreement with the orthodox, and firmly holds that the passages of the Qur'an and the traditions of the Prophet on this subject must be taken in their literal sense.

By scholastic reasonings he shows that the letter and spirit of these verses and traditions do not allow us to take them allegorically and to interpret seeing God as “seeing His signs and rewards or knowing Him by the heart.” This latter type of seeing is common for believers and non­believers in the next world and may even happen in this world. The texts must always be taken in their literal and real sense, he argues, except where that is impossible.

The vision of God in the next world is not impossible and it does not necessarily prove His corporeality, and hence if the literal sense were rejected, its consequences would be dangerous and it might ultimately lead to the denial of the existence of God. As God is knowing and doing; for example, without His being a body or accident or without His being limited by time and space, so will He be an object of vision in the next world. Some people were misled because, as they had no experience of seeing what is not a body or an accident, they compared the vision of God in paradise with the vision of a material object in this world.

Thus, the Corporealists (Mujassimin) erred in saying that God is a body, because He will be seen, and the Mu'tazilites erred in saying that He cannot be seen because He is not a body. Conditions of vision, al‑Maturidi says, differ from stage to stage, person to person, and genus to genus. Many things exist, but we do not see them. Angels who are not corporeal beings see us, though we do not see them. Conditions of seeing: rays of light, darkness, and shadow, are not the same as those of seeing solid material objects.

So it is quite unreasonable to apply the conditions of seeing a physical object in this world to the seeing of the Being which is not a body in the next world, where conditions will be totally different from those in this world. Seeing God, therefore, may be impossible in this world, but not in the next world.

He also argues that vision may not happen sometimes for some reason or other, although the conditions of vision exist; in the same way, vision may happen in the absence of those conditions. Another argument of his is that, according to our sense‑experience, only the knowledge of matter and accidents can be acquired by a man, yet we assert the possibility of acquiring knowledge of the realities beyond experience. This principle is also applicable to beatific vision.

In short, al‑Maturidi asserts that the vision of God in paradise is the highest spiritual and intellectual delight and the most coveted reward of the believers; it is an article of faith based on the Qur'an and the Sunnah and supported by reason. So we must accept this as such, without going into details.50

Conclusion

The theological systems of al‑Maturidi and al‑Ash'ari have long since been accepted by the general populace of the Muslim world. Though ascribed to them, neither al‑Maturidi nor al‑Ash`ari was, in fact, the author of his system, nor was either of them a pioneer in this field. Imam Abu Hanifah (d. 150/767) was the first renowned scholar among the Ahl al‑sunnah wa’l Jama'ah, who studied theology for long before he had taken up the study of Fiqh, combated the heretical sects of his time, and founded the first orthodox school in theology.51

Al‑Maturidi followed his system, explained it in the light of the philosophy of his time, tried to defend it by argument and reason, and this provided for it a firm foundation. Hence this school is ascribed to its founder as well as to its interpreter who fixed its ultimate form and brought victory to it.

The difference between the attitude of al‑Maturidi and of al‑Ash'ari may be judged from this: If al‑Ash'ari's attempt during the later period was to strike a middle path between rationalism and traditionalism, al‑Maturidi certainly took a position between what may be called Ash'arism and Mu'tazilism. The important points of difference between these two leaders of orthodox Kalam, more strictly, between the two schools, have been reckoned by some writers as fifty in number.52 (References have already been made in the fore­going pages to some of the most important of them and we need not enter here into a discussion of the rest.)

As a result of these differences, there was once a tendency of bitter rivalry between the followers of these two schools but happily in course of time this tendency subsided and both the schools were regarded as orthodox. But how profoundly the educated Muslims of today are influenced by the system of al‑Maturidi may easily be realized from the fact that the `Aqa'id of al‑Nasafi (d. 537/1142), which gives the sub­stance of the former's Kitab al‑Tauhid, has been recognized as an authority and prescribed as a text‑book on theology in many educational institutions of the Muslim world.

A comparative study of the arguments employed by al‑Maturidi and by the great Ash'arite scholars like `Abd al‑Qahir al‑Baghdadi (d. 429/1031) and Imam al‑Haramain al‑Juwaini (d. 478/1085) to prove the non‑eternity of the world, the existence of God, His unity and attributes, the value of human reason, the necessity of the divine revelation, and the prophethood of Muham­mad, will show how deep and enormous his influence was on the orthodox dialecticians who came after him, and what a lasting contribution he made towards the development of orthodox Kalam.

That Shaikh Muhammad `Abduh (d. 1323/1905), one of the leaders of the modern reform movement in Islam, in his endeavour to reconstruct Islamic theology, closely followed the system of al‑Maturidi, is evident from his Risalat al‑Tauhid and his observations on several controversial questions in his note on the Sharh `Aqa'id al‑`Adudiyyah.

Bibliography

Al‑Sam'ani, al‑Ansab; Ibn al Athir, al‑Lubab; Ahmad Amin, Zuhr al‑Islam, vol. 1; al‑Maturidi, Kitab al‑Tauhid, MS., Cambridge, fol. 1; Sayyid Murtada, Sharh Ihya', vol. II; `Abd al‑Qadir al‑Qarashi, al‑Jawahir al‑Mud'iyyah, MS., Cairo; Mahmud al‑Kafawi, Kata'ib A`lam al‑Akhyar, MS., Cairo; Qasim b. Qutlubugha, Taj al‑Tarajim, Leipzig, 1862; Tash Kubrazadah, Miftah al‑Sa'adah, Hyderabad, 1928; `Abd al‑Hayy Lakhnawi, al‑Fawa'id al‑Bahiyyah, Cairo, 1324/1906; Kamal al‑Din al‑Biyadi, Isharat al‑Maram, Cairo, 1949;Hajji Khalifah, Kash al. Zunun, Istanbul, 1943; 'Ali al‑Qari, Sharh al‑Fiqh al‑Akbar, Cairo, 1323/1905; Zuhdi Hasan, Al‑Mu'tazilah, Cairo, 1947; al‑Ash'ari, Kitab al‑Luma'; Maqalat, Cairo; Imam, al‑Haramain, al‑`Aqidat al‑Nizamiyyah; Sharh al‑`Aqa'id al‑`Adudiyyah; al‑Baghhdadi, al‑Farq;

Muhammad b. al‑Murtada al‑Yamani, Ithar al‑Haqq; Ibn al‑Nadim, al‑Fihrist; al‑ Shahrastani, Milal; `Abd al‑Rahim, Nazm al‑Fara'id, Cairo; al‑Makki and Bazzaz, al‑Manaqib; `Abd Allah b. `Uthman, Risalah fi al‑Khilaf bain al‑Ash'ariyyah' wa’l Maturidiyyah, MS., Cairo; Goldziher, Vorlesungen uber den Islam, Heidelberg, 1910; Islamische Philosophie des Mittelalters in Kultur des Gegenwart; T. J. de Boor, Geschichte der Philosophic im Islam, Stuttgart, 1901; Maimonides, La Guide des Egares, ed. and tr. S. Munk, Paris, 1856‑66; S. Harovitz, Uber den Einfluss der griech. Philosophy auf die Entwicklung des Kalam, Breslau, 1909; K. Lasswitz, Geschichte der Atomistik, Hamburg/Leipzig, 1890.

Notes

1. The word is also pronounced as Maturid and Maturit. Cf, al‑Sam'ani, al‑Ansab, fol. 498b; Ibn al‑Athir, al‑Lubab, vol. III, p. 76; Ahmad Amin, Zuhr al‑Islam. vol. I, p. 365. It was wrongly transcribed by some writers as Matarid.

2. Al‑Maturidi, Kitab al‑Tauhid, MS. Cambridge, fol. 1, footnote al Sayyid Murtada, Sharh Ihya' of al‑Ghazali, Cairo, 1893, V ol. II, p. 5.

3. Imam Abu Nasr al‑'Ayadi, al‑Samarqandi, one of al‑Maturidi's teachers, was a descendant of Sa'd b. `Ubadah, vide 'Abd al‑Hay Lakhnawi, al‑Fawa'id al ­Bahiyyah, Cairo, 1324/1906, p. 23.

4. Al‑Sam'ani, op. cit., fol. 498.

5. Abd al‑Qadir al‑Qarashi, al‑Jawahir al‑Mud'iyyah, MS. Cairo, p. 251 (it has been printed at Hyderabad); Mahmud al‑Kufawi, Kata'ib A'lam al‑Akhyar, MS. Cairo, pp. 129‑30; Qasim b. Qutlubugha, Taj al‑Tarajim, Leipzig, 1862, p. 44; Tash Kubrazadah, Miftah al‑Sa’adah, Hyderabad, 1928, vol. II, p. 22; Sayyid Murtada, op. cit., vol. II, pp. 5‑14; `Abd al‑Hayy Lakhnami, op. cit., p. 195.

6. For Samanids see al‑Maqdisi, Ahsan al‑Taqasim, p. 294; Ahmad Amin, op. cit. vol. I, pp. 261 et sqq.

7. Kamal al‑Din al‑Biyadi, Zaharat at‑Maram, Cairo, 1949, p. 23; Sharh Ihya' vol. II, p. 5, and books on Hanafi ,Tabaqat.

8. Kata’ib A'lam al‑Akhyar, p. 129.

9. Three other works, viz., Sharh Fiqh al‑Akbar of Imam Abu Hanifah, 'Aqidah abi Mansur and Sharh al‑Ibanah of Imam al‑Ash'ari are erroneously ascribed to him.

10. MSS. of this book are found at the Cairo, Istanbul, and Berlin Libraries. Sheikh 'Ala al‑Din Abu Bakr Muhammad b. Ahmad al‑Samarqandi wrote a com­mentary on this book in eight volumes, an incomplete copy of which can be found at the Patna Library.

11. Al‑Jawahir al‑Mud'iyyah, MS. Cairo, p. 251.

12. Kashf al‑Zunan, Istanbul, 1943, vol. I, pp. 110‑11.

13. For al‑Ka'bi, see al‑Shahrastani, Milal, al‑Azhar ed., vol. I, pp. 116‑17; al‑Baghdadi, Kitab al‑Fariq, Cairo, pp. 108‑09.

14. Al‑Ash'ari was born in 260/873 or 2701883 and remained in the Mu'tazilites' camp up to the fortieth year of his age, so he must have begun his movement after the end of the third century of Hijrah. Al‑Maturidi was born before 248/862, and supposing that he spent about thirty years in acquiring knowledge, then his move­ment seems to have begun before the end of the third century A.H.

15. Al‑Maturidi, op. cit., pp. 3, 13.

16. Ibid., pp. 4‑5, 68‑69.

17. Ibid., pp. 92‑95; Tawilat, Surah vii, 54.

18. Ibid., pp‑ 91 et sqq.

19. Ibid., pp‑ 2‑4.

20. Ibid., p. 116; Tawilat, MSS. Istanbul & Hyderabad, Preface; 'Ali al‑Qari, Sharh al‑Fiqh al‑Akbar, Cairo, 1323/1905, p. 75.

21. Zuhdi Hasan, al‑Mu'tazilah, Cairo, 1947, pp. 247‑48; Ahmad Amin, Duha al‑Ialam, Cairo, vol. III, p. 32.

22. Kitab al‑Tauhid pp. 48‑49, 91‑92; Sharh al‑`Aqa'id al‑`Adudiyyah with commentaries of Sialkuti and Shaikh Muhammad `Abduh, Cairo, 1322/1904, p. 180, Nazm al‑Fara'id Cairo, 1317/1899, pp. 32‑37; al‑Raudat al‑Bahiyyah, Cairo, 1322/1904, pp. 34‑39.

23. Qur'an, vii, 56.

24. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 41‑42, 48, 144‑69, 178; Tawilat, Surah vii, 10.

25. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 13, 21, 46.

26. Ibid., p. 59; Tawilat, Surah xxxix, 62.

27. Tawilat, Surah vii, 54; v, 64; iv, 27; xi, 37; Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 12, 32.

28. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 46‑47, 61‑62.

29. Ibid., pp. 134‑35; Tawilat, Surah ii, 286.

30. Ibid., pp. 186 et sqq.

31. For al‑Ash'ari's views on these questions, see his Kitab al‑Luma`, Cairo, 1955, pp. 113 et sqq.; al‑Ibanah, Hyderabad, 1948, p. 59:

32. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 48, 61, 112.

33. Qur'an, ii, 77, 167; xxliii, 17; xli, 40; xcix, 7, etc.

34. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 115 et sqq., 165.

35. Ibid., pp. 117 et sqq.

36. Ibid., p. 161.

37. The evidence at our disposal does not clearly indicate when and by whom the doctrine of kasb was first formulated. But it is quite evident that neither al‑Maturidi nor al‑Ash'ari was the originator of this doctrine. The term kasb or iktisab had been used long before them by Imam Abu Hanifah and his contem­poraries: Jahm b. Safwan (d. 128/745), Hafs, al‑Fard, and Dirar b. `Amar. Cf. al‑Ash'ari, al‑Maqalat, Cairo, vol. I, pp. 110, 313; al‑Baghdadi, op. cit., pp. 129 et sqq.; Muhammad b. al‑Murtada al‑Yamani, Ithar al‑Haqq, pp. 312, 316.

38. al-Ash'ari, Kitab al‑Luma`, Cairo, 1955, pp. 72 et sqq.

39. Ibn al‑Nadim, al‑Fihrist, chapter on the Jabrites; al‑Shahrastani, Milal, vol. I, p. 134.

40. Al‑Shahrastani, op. cit., vol. I, pp. 157 et sqq.; Imam al‑Haramain, al‑`Aqidat al‑Nizamiyyah, p. 34; Shari’a al‑`Aqa'id al‑`Adudiyyah, p. 88; al‑Biyadi; Isharat al‑Maram, p. 255.

41. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 12, 21, 31, 44, 51; al‑Biyadi, op. cit., p. 118; al‑Subki, Sharh `Aqidah. MS. Madinah.

42. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp. 23 et sqq.; Tawilat, Surahs i, 3; ii, 117.

43. The three schools differ from one another in defining the attribute of an action. Cf. Ali al‑Qari, Sharh Fiqh al‑Akbar, Cairo, 1323/1905, p. 19.

44. Kitab al‑Tauhid, pp.26‑28; Tawilat, Surahs ix, 6; xlii, 51; vii, 143; iv, 164.

45. Kitab al‑Luma`, pp. 33 et sqq.; al‑Ibanah, pp. 19 et aqq.

46. Kitab al‑Luma`, p. 63; also Ibn Humam al‑Musayarah, Cairo, 1347/1928, p. 11; `Abd al‑Rahim, Nazm al‑Fara'id, Cairo, 1317/1899, pp. 15‑18; Abu `Udhbah, al ­Raudat al‑Bahiyyah, Hyderabad, pp. 44‑45.

47. Sharh al‑`Aqa'id al‑`Adudiyyah, p. 188.

48. Nihayat al‑Iqdam, p. 320.

49. Imam al‑Haramain, al‑Irshad, Cairo, 1950, pp. 102 et sqq.; al‑Ghazali, al ­Iqtisad, Cairo, pp. 71‑72.

50. Kitab al-Tauhid, pp. 37‑41; Tawilat,Surahs vi. 103; vii, 143; x, 26; lxxv, 22‑23.

51. Al‑Baghdadi, op. cit., p. 220; Usul al‑Din, vol. I, p. 308; al‑Makki and Bazzaz, al‑Manaqib; al‑Biyadi, op. cit., pp. 19‑23. There are five books on theo­logy ascribed to Imam Abu Hanifah: al‑Fiqh al‑Akbar, al‑Fiqh al‑Absat, al‑Risalah al‑`Alim w‑al‑Muta'aalim and al‑ Wasiyyah. These books, we are convinced, represent the correct views of the Imam.

52. Al‑Biyadi, op. cit., pp. 53‑56; Shaikhzadah, Nazm al‑Fara’id, Cairo, 1317/1899; Sayyid Murtada, op. cit., vol. I, pp. 8 et sqq.; Abu 'Udhbah, op. cit.; `Abd Allah b. `Uthman, Risalah fi al‑Khilaf bain al Ash'ariyyah wa’l‑Maturidiyyah. MS. Cairo.


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