Campbell Corner Language Exchange
Science and Metaphysics in
the Three Religions of the Book
Toby E. Huff
From Intellectual Discourse Vol 8,
No 2
(International Islamic University Malaysia, 2000)
Abstract: The three religions of the Book
trace their origins back to the same Abrahamic
experience, but only one, Christianity, developed
a metaphysical framework consistent with that
of modern science. Both Judaism and Islam during
their formative years, and continuously up to
modern times, considered Greek philosophy and
science alien wisdom, jeopardizing their sacred
scriptures. The different path followed by Christianity
is due to the influence of Hellenistic thought
during Christianity's early formative period.
Both Judaism and Islam were spared the direct
mediation of Greek culture and ideas because both
Judaism and Islam developed geographically and
linguistically isolated from the Greek influences
during the reception of their scriptures.
Are there cognitive effects of religion and
metaphysics on the development of modern science?
I think the answer is, yes. The task of arriving
at this conclusion is daunting and the answers
suggested here can only be a first approximation.
At
the outset I remind the reader that before there
were Christians or Muslims, and perhaps before
there were Jews, there were Greeks. The New
Testament of the Christian Bible says, "In
the beginning was the Logos" (the Greek
term for "word," "reason,"
or "indwelling spirit"). So it is
fitting for our context to say, "in the
beginning were the Greeks." Of course archeological
remains would give priority to the Jews, but
that is another story.
As
all believers in the Abrahamic tradition know,
the Greeks produced a philosophy and a culturea
broad and deep intellectual orientationthat
was at once profoundly attractive, deeply subversive,
and remarkable tenacious. Despite the desire
of some of our contemporaries to relegate the
Greeks to the dead past of Western patriarchy,
no account of the historical record from the
emergence of "high culture" to the
present is complete until it has taken into
account the profound intellectual effects that
Greek culture has had on all aspects on Western
culture and indeed, the global situation. Consequently
the uniquely Greek idiom of philosophizing is
a major point of reference. Nevertheless, the
focus of this paper is on the development of
the three religions of the Book, beginning about
the time of Philo, that is, the first century
before Christianity.
I
should point out that some scholars would argue
for a clear distinction between "religion"
on the one hand, and "metaphysics"
on the other. For present purposes I can only
say that I agree with those who recognize that
the line between the two is exceedingly fine.
Whether or not we can determine that a particular
item of belief belongs to the realm of "religion"
or "metaphysics," it is clear that
the development of modern science was greatly
influenced by non-demonstrable assumptions that
would ordinarily be labelled, "metaphysical."
Although I focus here on metaphysical beliefs,
nothing I say in this essay is meant to exclude
the broader cultural, economic, legal and institutional
factors that should be considered while investigating
the reasons for the rise or (retardation) of
modern science in any cultural setting, as I
have done elsewhere.1
Some Metaphysical Commitments
I
want to focus initially on three particular
sets of metaphysical beliefs. For in my view
modern science could not have arisen were it
not for the gradual and increasingly articulate
evolution of the following three metaphysical
assumptions:
First, it had to be believed that nature is
a rational order, that is to say, an all-encompassing,
coherent, orderly, and predictable domain. Without
this axiomatic belief concerning the natural
world, we could neither scientifically understand
it nor explain it.
Second, scientific reasoning is predicated on
the belief that human beings are endowed with
reason and have the intellectual capacity to
understand the workings of nature. Of course,
particular theories may be wrong at any moment
in time, but the assumption is that gradually
over time nature will yield up its secrets to
rational inquiry.
Thirdly,
it has to be taken for granted that it is permissible,
and even mandatory, for men and women, using
their powers of reason, to question all forms
of truth claims, including religious, political,
ethical, and even science's own claims. This
is a very important consideration because it
is by no means assured that the intellectual
elite of any particular society or civilization
will agree that it is permissible for ordinary
mortalsespecially lay personsto
speak out, to challenge and upset traditional
understandings, based on scientific findings,
and above all, to disturb revealed truths stated
in sacred books. It is not even certain today
in many parts of the globe that public information
which describes the collective state of well-being
(or ill-health) can be publicly viewed or discussed.
In many societies today all sorts of social
statistics, economic results, and public health
reports, are classified as state secrets, and
cannot be published or discussed without obtaining
official permission, or risk criminal sanctions,
especially in Asia and the Middle East.
From this point of view, the rise of early modern
science concerns the rise and institutionalization
of these three enormously empowering principles.
In the present discussion I shall focus mostly
on the first two assumptionsthat nature
is a rational, coherent, and orderly domain,
and that human beings have the capacity to understand
that order, unaided by scripture. The question
then becomes one of identifying some of the
early manifestations of these metaphysical assumptions
and how they were received by the three religions
of the book.
The Greek & Hellenic Heritage
As we know, the period leading up to the beginnings
of Christianity was one in which Hellenic culture
reigned supreme throughout the settled communities
surrounding the Mediterranean. Alexander the
Great's conquest in the 4th century B.C resulted
in the sudden spread of Hellenic culture over
a vast region of Asia and the Middle East. At
the center of that culture we find not only
Aristotle's great organon of natural philosophy,
but also the equally persuasive works of Plato
(d. 347 BC).
As
a result of Alexander's expansion of the Greek
oecumene, it is said that 70 new Greek cities
were founded across the Middle East and elsewhere
in the path of his conquest.2 Undoubtedly
the most significant of the new Greek cities
was Alexandria, founded in 332 BC on the coast
of Egypt. Indeed Alexandria's cultural life,
based on the language, law, and philosophical
culture of Greece during the last two centuries
before Christ, rivaled that of Athens. During
this period the Greek language had in fact become
the "lingua franca" throughout this
vast stretch of what was called the "inhabited
world." As one classical scholar put it,
"Greek might take a man from Marseilles
to India, from the Caspian to the Cataracts."3
Hence the schools and academies of that time
were wholly framed by Greek learning, and deeply
embedded in the works of Plato and Aristotle,
their followers and commentators: Stoics, Sceptics,
Cynics, Neoplatonists, and many others. What
developed out of this was not always a literal
restatement of what Plato and Aristotle taught;
nevertheless, it represented in some ways a
radical departure from the various indigenous
cultures, especially Semitic, that had flourished
outside the Greek cultural ambience. In the
end, the intellectual idioms of Plato and Aristotle
became the conceptual hinges on which the Western
scientific tradition turned thereafter.
It
has been recognized for some time that Plato's
little classic, the Timaeus, is not only
one of Plato's most influential books, but also
one of the most concise statements of the classical
Greek scientific heritage, above all, as an
exposition of cosmology, physics, physiology,
and the idea of cosmic creation.4
At
the center of Plato's dialogue is the notion
that the cosmos and the world in which we dwell
was created by design, through the persuasion
of "intelligence," shaping the material
of the world. In Plato's words,
The generation of this cosmos came about
through a combination of necessity and intelligence,
the two commingled. Intelligence controlling
necessity persuaded her to lead towards
the best the greater part of the things
coming into being; and in this way this
universe was constructed from the beginning,
through necessity yielding to intelligent
persuasion. (Timaeus, 48a) |
There
is embedded in this powerful extract from the
Timaeus an enormous amount of metaphysical
presupposition. The whole comic creation (and
smaller world in which we dwell) is said to
be the product of (1) creation, (2) by a (divine)
intelligence or Demiurge, and (3) necessity.
Throughout this creation "necessity"
and "causation" are at work, making
the whole into a balanced unity. In other places
Plato speaks of "Reason" as the guiding
principle. However, the text also says, "If,
then, we are really to tell how it came into
being on this principle, we must bring in also
the Errant Cause-in what manner its nature is
to cause motions."(48b).
Thus,
the purposeful designer of the cosmos also had
to deal with chance and fortuitous circumstance.
Nevertheless, throughout the discussion reference
is made to "rational design" and purposefully
rational motivation behind the creation of this
universe and all the acts of the creatures in
it. It is a creation with purpose and hence
design. Likewise, man is said to be part of
this rational creation. The creator bestowed
upon man the faculty of sight and this in turn
allowed him to observe and study the workings
of nature, especially the movements of the sun,
moon, and celestial bodies. This in turn led
man to discover the concepts of time as well
as number. From all this we get philosophy,
that blessing "than which no greater boon
has ever come or shall come to mortal man as
a gift from heaven." (Timaeus, 47b).
Furthermore, by observing the more perfect motions
of the heavens we, like them, may so order our
own existence into a more perfect pattern of
life. (47b-c). In other words, man is given
the gifts of sight and intelligence which allow
him to understand the workings of the natural
world in all its manifestations, giving us philosophy,
perhaps even divine wisdom. This very contemplation
of nature (philosophy, to reiterate), is the
greatest good that heaven could bestow on humankind.
In
this discourse Plato has created the image of
a rationally ordered world, an organic living
whole, which was later interpreted as a "world
machine," regulated by reason and necessity,
though as noted, Plato allows for chance, which
is the outcome of those fortuitous combinations
of the workings of the separate "powers."
The study and contemplation of this whole is
not only permissible, it is the highest form
of human activity that the world intelligence
has created, and through us this rational contemplation
is carried on.
This
bare bones sketch of Plato's great work reveals
the presence of nearly all of the metaphysical
elements that I suggested earlier must be present
if modern science is to rise and flourish: an
orderly world, governed by chance and law in
precarious balance, and the encouragement of
man to study it. Yet from a sociological point
of view, such ideas as these, which lie at the
heart of natural science, have not been universally
accepted. But if modern science is to flourish,
then some version of such ideas must be institutionally
available. So let us turn to the encounter of
Judaism and Hellenism and to the reception and
transformation of these ideas in the other religious
traditions.
Athens versus Jerusalem?
When Hellenism began its spread across the Middle
East in the time of Alexander, Judaism was full
blown, though it was still evolving. During
the Hellenistic phase of Greek cultural expansion
in the last three centuries before Christ, the
Greek language, as noted earlier, became dominant
throughout the region. Accordingly, the Jewish
sacred scriptures (the Torah) were translated
into Greek, from which we get the Pentateuch
the so-called Five Books of Moses in Greek translation.
This was the edition of the Bible that was most
commonly studied and read around the time of
the birth of Christ.
Given this cultural situation, it should not
be surprising to find a powerful encounter between
the metaphysical presuppositions of Greek philosophy
and the theological ones of Judaism of this
period. In fact we find just such an encounter
in the life and writings of Philo of Alexandria,
also known as Philo the Jew.
Remarkably,
Philo lived at the very moment of the birth
of Christianity, from about 15 BC to 50 AD.
What is interesting for us is the use that Philo
made of Greek modes of thought in his interpretation
of the Books of Mosesthe Torah for Jews
and the Pentateuch for Christians. What classical
scholars have long known is that Philo created
a synthesis of Greek philosophy and Judaism,
producing what some would call "Jewish
philosophy." But more importantly Philo
fused the ideas of Judaic law and natural law
into one entity. This claim of a new synthesis
has been the subject of some controversy. Some
scholars have said that the articulation of
the idea of natural law was a Stoic idea (found
already in the writings of Cicero and Antiochus
of Ascalon) more than a generation before Philo,
while others claim that Philo produced an original
fusion of the Greek concepts of nomos and physis.5
However,
at this point in time it is fair say to say
that while there are earlier formulations of
the natural law theory, especially among the
Stoics, Philo's writings do indeed achieve the
fusion of Mosaic law and the law of nature by
means of allegory. For example, Philo writes:
This world is the great city and it has
a single constitution and law, which is
the reason in nature. (Jos. 29-31) Since
every well ordered state has a constitution,
the world-citizen enjoyed the same constitution
as did the whole world... this constitution
is the right reason of nature more properly
called an ordinance seeing that it is divine
law. (Opifex: 143-4).6 |
Central
to this understanding is the idea that a single
universal law governs the universe and that
this law or reason is inherent in nature. Thus
nature, both man, animals and the cosmos itself,
is regulated by the logos, by right reason which
is the divine indwelling in nature.7
Furthermore,
scholars agree that in his exegetical studies
of the Mosaic Scriptures Philo used the Timaeus
of Plato as the framework of his enterprise
thereby rising to an allegorical and philosophical
form of interpretation very different from the
exegetical work of Talmudic scholars.8 Philo
incorporates Plato's arguments that I set out
above, that the world is regulated by natural
law, that there is virtue in studying nature,
and the idea that philosophy is not only good,
but is the rightful gift of God to man.
In
a word, Philo approached the sacred Jewish scriptures
as a believing Jew but at the same time he used
the philosophical apparatus of Plato and the
Timaeus, to elucidate the Scriptures, thereby
fusing Judaic belief with an implicit permission,
even injunction, to undertake philosophical
exegesis. According to Philo's account, philosophy
as understood by Plato and Aristotle had really
been invented by God through Moses, and therefore,
there was no reason to deprive Jews of this
great intellectual blessing. But neither Philo's
contemporary co-religionists in Alexandria or
Palestine, nor later generations of Jews were
receptive to his innovation. Rabbis remained
wary of the dangers of indulging in philosophical
speculation. Had this not been so, Maimonides,
twelve centuries later, would not have adopted
such a cryptic and convoluted style of exposition
when he wrote the Guide of the Perplexed,
nor would his writings have provoked such controversy.
Put
in slightly different terms, Judaic thought
was to remain transfixed by the Torah, the oral
tradition of the Mishnah, and the great compilations
of commentaries known at the Talmud. Accordingly,
theology as an enterprise in its own right,
and natural philosophy, were considered (throughout
the period we are dealing with) as extraneous
additions that bordered on the impious. Within
the Jewish community philosophical speculation
remained dangerous.
On
another level, one can see the split between
Judaism and Christianity as the difference between
those God-fearing individuals who preferred
the letter of the law as opposed to those who
looked to the spirit of the law. As was to be
the case later in Islam, the sacred lawthe
Halakhah in Judaism and the Shari'a in Islam
was to be the controlling intellectual center
of Jewish thought.9 Indeed, the tension
between the particularism of Jewish law versus
the norms of the larger society was to be the
defining problem of the Judaic community for
the next millennium and a half. Jews were forced
to ask themselves why they were chosen to receive
the Torah, and then on the other hand, if, out
of a spirit of ecumenism, they neglected to
follow the law but instead joined the universal
community, how could they still be called Jews?
Seen
in this light the Christians truly had a new
message (Gospel): they were released from strict
observance of the law, and were told to substitute
universal love, not an eye for an eye, but a
brotherly ethic of turning the other cheek.
In
the end Philo's influence was primarily felt
by Christians, especially the early Church Fathers
who preserved his writings. Apparently they
had greater freedom for philosophical speculation
since they were bound not by the literalism
of legislation in the Holy Book, but by the
spirit of their New Gospel.
In
the meantime, Philo's work became unknown in
the Jewish community, not to be recovered until
the sixteenth century.10 In a word, the
attempt to fuse traditional Jewish thought with
metaphysical speculation derived from Athens
during this period, was a failure. This brings
us to the advent of Christianity.
Christianity and Greek Philosophy
Given the preceding excursion into Greek philosophy
and the Hellenistic modes of thought, it requires
a considerable transposition of mind to enter
into the simple, non-Greek mindset of the Jewish
carpenter's son who came to be known as Jesus
Christ. For it is quite certain that Jesus himself
was a person deeply immersed in local Hebraic
culture, not Greek learning. Furthermore, by
the time of Christ, the Romans had taken over
the Holy Land and begun the great transformation
to Roman cultural patterns.
Yet,
as we know, the Gospel record of the life and
times of Christ was written in Greek, and contains
an abundance of Greek metaphysical concepts.
The earliest extant records of the life and
religious message of the Jewish cum Christian
prophet from Nazareth were given to posterity
first in Greek, later in Latin, and then after
fierce battles, translated into English and
other vernacular languages. Thus, those who
we may call the "mediatorial elite"
of Christianity were Greek speakers struggling
to capture the message of a religious leader
who spoke another tongue. The important point,
however, is that they were fully shaped by Greek
philosophical habits of thought.
In
the classic 19th century study by Edwin Hatch,
The Influence of Greek Ideas on Christianity,11
we hear the lament that from the beginning Christian
intellectuals, due to their exposure to Greek
thought, increasingly applied Greek philosophical
forms to Christian thought and sentiments. This
entailed the formal use of definitions, the
effort to create universal statements and the
attempt to cast the whole complex of definitions
and propositions into a formal system of ideas,
something that seems unlikely to have been uppermost
in the mind of the historical Jesus and his
immediate followers.
Furthermore,
Edwin Hatch argues, these Christian formalizers
wanted to create a uniform system of beliefs
shared by all members of the community, wherever
it might be located. And while we can see that
this encouraged a universalizing impulse within
the Christian community, it also led to the
production of universally proclaimed creeds
and officially mandated statements of belief
(dogmas), such as the Nicean Creed. It also
took the form of replacing untutored faith by
a set of abstract propositions which were then
taught more or less by rote, as in catechism.
In the long run, simple faith in the life and
message of Christ was replaced by formal dogma
and the very reading of the Scriptures was put
exclusively in the hands of the clergy. However,
revolts against this priestly monopoly began
in the Middle Ages, reaching a culmination in
the 16th century with the Reformation. In addition,
in the late 19th century, German scholars, among
others, began a search for both "the historical
Jesus" and a more authentic description
of the "Primitive Church." This is
seen in the writings of Harnack and his followers,
as well as Ernst Troeltsch.
Thus
from the outset the Christian worldvie was deeply
impregnated by Greek philosophical assumptions.
In general (but not without exception), the
Patristic Fathers had a high regard for the
idea of natural law.12 At the same time,
just as they adhered to the creation story of
Genesis, they tended to infuse it with Platonic
ideas that filtered through from the Timaeus
as well as from Philo. The creator/Demiurge
of Plato was replaced by the Judeo-Christian
God, but the ubiquitous Logos (indwelling reason)
was ever present. And while the Christian fathers
appeared to be prepared to accept the philosophical
principle of natural necessity, they had to
work out the problem of free will and God's
omnipotence. Christian thinkers insisted both
that men have free will and that God transcends
nature, even controlling it. But taking up these
questions served to push Christian theologians
deeper into the Greek philosophical literature
in search of defensive ideas supplied by Greek
philosophers.13
In
sum, the worldview of early Christianity is
so infused with Greek habits of thought that
it is fair to say it was unusually well prepared
to entertain the idea of cosmic self-regulation
governed by the laws of nature. It took until
the middle ages for all of these elements supportive
of scientific thought to come together, not
least because the Hellenistic world was in a
great transition from the Greek language and
modes of thought to that of the Romans, which
were then to be displaced by Islamic culture
in the 7th century.. From then onwards the Biblical
lands and much of the formerly Hellenic world
was transformed into an Arabic speaking civilization
committed to a new religious orientation. Consequently,
from the 9th until the 12th century, the only
work of Plato available in Latin translation
and commentary was the Timaeus. But before
tracing that development, I turn to the case
of Islam.
Islam and the Straight Path
The prophet Mohammad was born in 570 A.D. in
Mecca, at a time when the Roman Empire was in
decline. It is highly significant that the Arabian
peninsula had remained virtually untouched by
either Hellenic or Roman culture during the
preceding centuries. Mecca was an important
urban trading center halfway down the peninsula,
and thus was not totally isolated from outside
currents. Still the Arabic language was little
known outside the Arabian peninsula, though
it was close to Hebrew in its basic structure.
The holy book of Islam, the Qur'an, is frequently
characterized by Muslims as the final and complete
revelation of the word of God, bringing to completion
the Abrahamic prophetic tradition. Further-more,
the Qur'an is described even by Muslims today
as a complete book of truth, a copy of the heavenly
speech of God, beyond comparison with any other
source of knowledge. In other words, it is not
meant to be a source of philosophical speculation
nor are any of its allusions to natural events
meant to be subjected to elucidation by contemporary
scientific knowledge or philosophical exegesis.
Rather modern science is said to confirm the
truth of the Qur'an.14 Even at the beginning
of the 20th century the Muslim community would
not allow the publication of an annotated edition
of the Qur'an in Arabic accompanied by a commentary
containing the modern scientific point of view.15
Thus
the Qur'an contains many reminders that it is
"an explanation of all things" (Surah
12:111), though a scientific terminology is
absent.16 If we look for metaphysical
images and presuppositions in the Qur'an that
might guide scientific inquiry, they would be
entirely different from those accustomed to
Greek philosophy. They tend to be concrete images
rather than generalized propositions. The idea
of the "logos" as creative intelligence
embedded in the structure of the universe or
in the human actor, is absent. While God is
said to have created the world in six days following
the Genesis story, the world continues to be
governed by God's uninterrupted control of all
events. Secondly, God and man are utterly different
from each other. The Judeo-Christian idea that
God created man in his own image is replaced
by the belief that man and God share no qualities
or attributes. God is all powerful, all knowing,
and actively creative, but humankind shares
none of these attributes. Indeed, it is a form
of blasphemy for anyone to claim any of God's
attributes, and it heresy (shirk) to
"associate" anything with God, or
to imagine God having a peer. This declaration,
that "God has no partners," in fact
became a matter of formal dogma in later centuries
reflected in various Islamic creeds.17
In short, the creative spark, i.e., reason or
inner light, that Christian theology (no doubt
influenced by Plato) invested in mankind is
absent in Islamic thought.18
Likewise
the idea of natural necessity or laws of nature
governing either the human realm or the natural
world is opposed. For example, the Qur'an says,
It was Allah who made the heavens and
the earth. He sends down the rain from the
sky with which He brings forth fruits for
your sustenance. He drives the ships which
by His leave sail the ocean in your service.
(14:32) |
Thus God's agency is a constant, ongoing controlling
force in nature:
Your Lord is Allah, and who in six days
created the heavens and the earth and then
ascended His Throne. He throws the veil
of night over the day. (7: 54) |
Passages
such as these have been referred to as "sign-passages"
(Ayat), and they seem to fulfil several
functions.19 On the one hand, many such
passages refer to natural phenomena which reveal
the active powers of God, either creating or
controlling nature, frequently for man's benefit.
On the other hand, sign passages reveal the
activities of the prophet, seeming to confirm
the truth of his message.
In
the context of scientific inquiry and the possibilities
of natural necessity, there are numerous verses
that clearly reserve to God all the powers that
would otherwise belong to natural processes
in and of themselves. Thus Similarly, another
Surah affirms that if God but wished it, it
would be done, as in Surah 40:68: "When
he wills a thing he simply says to it, 'Be'
and it is." Likewise Surah 34:9 reads,
We could if we please, cause the earth
to swallow them up, or cause clouds to fall
upon them a deluge. In that, verily, is
a sign for every servant of ours who turns
to us. |
This
line of thought seems to be inhibitive with
regard to the possibility of a natural world
governed by autonomous forces of nature. Indeed,
over the course of time, this issue of natural
causation versus God's complete omnipotence
developed into a major confrontation between
Greek-inspired Muslim philosophers and those
who took a more literalist view of the powers
of God. Thus the great al-Ghazali (d. 1111)
argued that
the natural sciences are objectionable
because they do not recognizethat nature
is in subjection to God most high, not acting
of itself but serving as an instrument in
the hands of the creator. Sun, moon, stars
and elements are in subjection to His command.
There is none of them whose activity is
produced by or proceeds from its own essence.20 |
Before
taking up that controversy let me also note
the numerous Qur'anic passages that warn against
conjecture and speculation, and which could
be taken as a repudiation of philosophical inquiry
in the Aristotelian mode. For example, Surah
53: 28 asserts: "They engage only in conjecture
and conjecture is of no avail with the real."
Likewise a Qur'anic verse says:
These are nothing but names which you
have devisedyou and your fathers.
For which God has sent down no authority
(whatever). They follow nothing but conjecture
and what their own souls desire. (53:23) |
To
this passage the commentary of Abdullah Yusuf
Ali says, "Conjecture is a dangerous thing
in speaking of divine things."21
These passages seem to warn against the philosophical
life that is so vividly affirmed by Plato and
adopted by Philo of Alexandria as a gift of
God.
Accordingly,
when Islam spread out of the Arabian peninsula
(in both directions across the Middle East),
it encountered a radically different cultural
ambiance. Finding themselves in a vastly richer
cultural setting than that of Mecca, the intellectual
leaders of the expanding Islamic civilization
encouraged the translation into Arabic of the
great corpus of the "foreign" or "ancient"
sciences which existed in libraries and private
collections throughout the region. In addition,
efforts where made to assimilate the store of
scientific works from India.
But
this appropriation of foreign cultural capital
was also selective as should be expected. For
example, Philo of Alexandria was not translated,
and though Galen's epitome of the Timaeus
was rendered into Arabic, actual discussions
of the Timaeus and its rational image of the
cosmos and man's place in it, are unknown among
Muslim philosophers and theologians.22
Nevertheless,
Islamic followers of Aristotle did emerge in
the person of such formidable intellects as
al-Kindi (c. 800-70), al-Farabi (d. 950), al-Razi,
(d. 923 or 932), Ibn Sina (d. 1037), and al-Biruni
(d. 1048). The importing of Hellenistic thought
appears to have occurred in two waves, the first
taking place in the mid-8th century, and the
second in the mid-tenth century. The earlier
phase of assimilation was one largely of translation
and one in which Neo-Platonic thought was very
strong. Later the individuals named above became
active and aggressive champions of Aristotle.
It
must be said, however, that the guardians of
orthodoxy within Islam strenuously opposed Aristotelian
philosophy and its metaphysics of natural necessity.
From the 9th century onwards, the mutakallimun
(Muslim theologians) became committed to what
has been called Islamic occasionalism.23
According to this view, the basic building blocks
of nature are indivisible "atoms,"
but it went a step further by asserting that
each moment of time is but an accidental arrangement
of events. For Islamic atomists, each moment
of existence was but the occasion of God's active
creation of the world. God created the world
anew each moment, and nothing can subsist more
than "two moments" without God's power,
according to this view.
This
doctrine had been in gestation from Islam's
beginnings in the 7th and 8th centuries (the
first two of the Islamic era). In later phases
it was used to counteract the writings of Islamic
philosophers who adopted the position according
to which nature is a rational and autonomous
domain functioning according to the laws of
its own essential nature. It was the 9th century
theologian al-Ash'ari (873-935) who solidified
the atomist/occasionalist view in which all
existence is composed of "atoms" and
"accidents," each of which lasts only
a moment, and then disappears. Furthermore,
these atoms were but a "substrate"
of metaphysical potentiality, which was given
existence moment by moment by an external agent,
that is, by God. God, as eternal creator, at
every moment of time, recreated the world (the
accidents of existence) thereby giving it pattern
and persistence. In a word, Islamic atomistic
occasionalism was designed specifically to guard
against natural necessity and to preserve the
complete omnipotence of God. This resulted in
the denial of natural causality and applied
equally to the acts of men.
For
Ash'ari and his school, "the acts of man
are created [by God] and ... a single act comes
from two agents, of whom one God, creates it,
while the other, man, "acquires" it
(iktasabu-hu)..."24 Islamic
theologians were compelled to assert the omnipotence
of God behind each and every human act, but
at the same time they could not abandon the
idea of human agency (free will), so they retained
the idea that human agency was also involved.
Hence Ash'ari insisted that the individual has
the ability to act only "by virtue of a
capacity which is distinct from him."25
By
the 10th century Ash'ari's atomism had become
the dominant orthodoxy with the result that
other great philosophers such as Ibn Sina felt
compelled to take occasionalist assumptions
into account, though in his case it was done
very cautiously.26 Indeed, Ibn Sina and
the other Muslim Aristotelians did not think
highly of these the mutakallimun.
This
unfolding conflict between Greek modes of philosophizing
and Muslim orthodoxy came to a head in the 12th
century with the work of al-Ghazali (1058-1111),
that philosophically inclined devout believer
who flourished in Baghdad at the time when Peter
Abelard was taking a different path in Paris.
Al-Ghazali's
motivation for attacking the philosophers was
no doubt complex. On one level, he sought to
protect ordinary believers from the corrosive
effects of philosophical speculation which was
something that Ibn Sina had also been concerned
about. On the other, al-Ghazali was driven by
a strong desire to achieve a level of religious
certainty within which there could be no doubt
or uncertainty. He had been smitten by the allures
of demonstrative argument, and when he elevated
such logical-rhetorical skills to the position
of final arbiter of all claims to knowledge,
it did not leave much to believe in. That is
to say, from a strictly logical point of view,
the proof of any argument is always in doubt
unless the syllogism is a strictly deductive
claim, as in: "All men are mortal, Aristotle
is a man, therefore Aristotle is mortal."
Inductive arguments, on the other hand, which
use empirical observation, rely on the "inductive
leap" in order to get from particulars
to the general, and hence cannot claim apodictic
truth. This outcome drove al-Ghazali into fideism,
the position according to which one believes
solely on the basis of faith, without rational
argument. Unsurprisingly, al-Ghazali fideism
led directly to his efforts to strengthen his
position by adopting the mysticism of the sufis.27
Al-Ghazali's
anti-naturalistic views became deeply ingrained
in Islamic thought and continue to surface in
contemporary discussions throughout the Muslim
world. His famous book condemning philosophers
was a wide-ranging inquiry that drew upon logic
and mathematics as it considered the fundamental
issues of natural causation. But it was no "mere"
philosophical exercise. As al-Ghazali wrote
in his autobiographical Deliverance from
Error, the errors of the philosophers "are
combined under twenty heads, on three of which
they must be reckoned infidels and on seventeen
heretics."28
Virtually
from the outset when Muslim intellectuals encountered
the Greek philosophical corpus, they perceived
its dangers to the new faith. Orthodox religious
leaders viewed the study of Greek natural philosophy
as the first step toward impiety. Hence al-Ghazali
was just the most philosophically informed and
perhaps most brilliant Muslim intellectual who
took it upon himself to set the record straight
insofar as the Islamic faith was concerned.
al-Ghazali's ringing rebuttal of natural causality
reads as follows:
According to us the connection between
what is usually believed to be a cause and
what is believed to be an effect is not
a necessary connection; each of the two
things has its own individuality and is
not the other, and neither the affirmation
nor the negation, neither the existence
nor the non-existence of the one is implied
in the affirmation, negation, existence,
and non-existence of the other e.g.,
the satisfaction of thirst does not imply
drinking, nor satiety eating, nor burning
contact with fire, nor light sunrise, nor
decapitation death, nor recovery the drinking
of medicine, nor evacuation the taking of
purgative, and so on for all the empirical
connections existing in medicine, astronomy,
the sciences, and the crafts. For the connection
of these things is based on a prior power
of God to create them in successive order,
though not because this connection is necessary
in itself and cannot be disjointed -- on
the contrary, it is in God's power to create
satiety without eating, and death without
decapitation, and to let life persist notwithstanding
the decapitation, and so on with respect
to all connections.29 |
By
this means al-Ghazl¥ dealt a severe
blow to the study of philosophy and the natural
sciences in the Islamic world. As a recent translator
of the Persian version of al-Ghazali's Revivification
of the Religious Sciences put it, "there
is little doubt in the court of Muslim popular
opinion that [al-Ghazali's critique of the philosophers]
prevailed, forever altering the intellectual
climate of the Islamic world."30
Nevertheless,
al-Ghazali's attack on philosophy had a paradoxical
effect. On one side, al-Ghazali's condemnation
of natural philosophy entailed a legal condemnation
of those philosophers who held various naturalistic
views. His wide-ranging arguments were "not
[mere] rhetorical utterances, but a legal pronouncement"
punishable by death.31 Consequently those who
espoused al-Ghazali's condemned theses were
condemned as heretics with the legal consequence
that their lives were in danger and their houses
and property could be confiscatedthough
this is not known to have happened. On the other,
al-Ghazali's clarity of exposition of Aristotelian
modes of philosophy led later theologians (mutakallimun)
to adopt philosophical modes of argument, albeit,
for the purpose of denying philosophy's claims.
In the end, al-Ghazali's argument prevailed
while the rebuttal by Ibn Rushd (Averroes, d.
1198) a generation later fell entirely on deaf
ears in the Muslim world, while Medieval Christians
embraced it.
Given
the limitations of this presentation, I must
forgo an adequate discussion of the many epistemological
ramifications of this line of thought within
Islam. But it is important to say that during
the period from the9th century until about the
13th century, scientific creativity within the
Islamic world did occur, though the innovations
for which Muslims are known did not encroach
on basic metaphysical assumptions of the Muslim
worldview. Apart from assuming the uniformity
of nature and its patterned regularity, none
of the advances in mathematics, astronomy, optics,
and medicine entailed metaphysical assumptions
counter to the Islamic worldview. The path to
the discovery of the lesser circulation of the
blood (from the heart to the lungs) by Ibn al-Nafis
(d. 1288) and Ibn al-Quff's (1233-86) description
of the stages of human embryonic development
may have entailed forbidden human dissection,
but no controversy about this has been reported.
In the longer run, al-Nafis discovery seems
to have been lost to the Muslim community and
only in the late 17th century was the bodily
circulation of blood in humans as understood
by William Harvey introduced into the Muslim
world.32 At
the same time, it should be observed that while
Arabic-Islamic science was fully technically
prepared to make the great leap from the geocentric
worldview to the new astronomic system first
set out by Copernicus, no such innovation occurred
in the Muslim world.
Still
it should be remembered that the writings of
gifted Muslim scientists and philosophers such
as al-Farabi, Ibn Sina and al-Biruni, give ample
evidence of their commitment to Islam. Some
of them, for example, al-Biruni, were explicit
in linking their scientific work with Qur'anic
injunctions, and the Qur'anic "sign passages"
mentioned earlier. But by casting doubt on certain
fundamental tenets of Islam, such as the divine
creation and the resurrection of the dead, their
writings were called into question. Thus those
Muslim scholars of jurisprudence who took a
literalist view of the Qur'an aligned themselves
with the scientific folklore evolving from pre-Islamic
times, and consequently ignored the real advances
being made in astronomy, time-keeping, and planetary
topography (e.g. the direction of the qiblah).
For example, the Qur'an refers to the movements
of the moon as a time keeping sign and thus
the scripturalists insisted on preserving the
lunar calendar and visual sighting of the moon
for ritual purposes, when those based on modern
astronomy would be far more satisfactory.
In
short, by the 14th century, Islamic intellectual
culture had lost its curiosity, and a reactionary
attitude came to dominate virtually all fields.
From then onwards, all innovations had to be
filtered through the excessively conservative
views of the religious scholars. Moreover, the
ban on Arabic printing, except for a brief respite
between 1728 and 1745, continued into the early
19th century. In the area of medicine, the Ottoman
Turks only began to develop a modern medical
vocabulary in Turkish in about 1826 with the
work of Sanizade (1769-1826), who had set about
translating Europe medical treatises into Turkish
for the first time.33
Europe on the Eve of Modernity
I
come now to another major shift in the civilizational
ascendancies of the Middle East and Europe.
By the 12th century the metaphysical charge
encouraging natural philosophy within the Muslim
world had been neutralized. The religious and
legal scholars had thoroughly routed the Greek
idea of an autonomous world-system governed
by natural law. Likewise, the idea that man
possesses that spark of divine intelligence
enabling him to decipher the mysteries of nature
had been denied. According to Islamic orthodoxy,
God is the only creator. Furthermore, as we
saw in al-Ghazali's attack on Greek natural
philosophythat blessing, in Plato's words,
"than which no greater boon has ever come
or shall come to mortal man as a gift from heaven"was
dismissed. As A.I. Sabra has shown for the 14th
century, kalam (Islamic theology) had
indeed overcome philosophy and the latter was
disparaged while Islamic occasionalism remained
intact.34
In
Western Europe, however, a new surge of creativity
burst forth. Beginning with the religious scholars
of Chartres and then enveloping all of Western
Europe, these scholars saw ubiquitous signs
of reason and rationality, of orderly nature,
of harmonious divine creation, everywhere. The
message of cosmic unity and orderly intelligent
creation made available by Chalcidius's translation
of the Timaeus was now fully incorporated
in Christian thought. People like Hugh of St.
Victor (d. 1141), William of Conches (d. 1154),
Thierry of Chartres (d. 1148), and many others
saw evidences of God's harmonious creation fully
in line with Plato's system of nature, indeed
saw nature as a system of causal necessity.
As William of Conches' commentary on the Timaeus
reads:
Having shown that nothing exists without
a cause, Plato now narrows the discussion
to the derivation of effect from efficient
cause. It must be recognized that every
work is the work of the Creator or of Nature,
or the work of a human artisan imitating
nature. The work of the Creator is the first
creation without pre-existing material,
for example, the creation of the elements
or spirits, or it is the things we see happen
contrary to the accustomed course of nature,
as the virgin birth, and the like. The work
of nature is to bring forth like things
from like through seeds or offshoots, for
nature is an energy inherent in things and
making like from like.35 |
From
top to bottom the world system was seen as a
fully articulated mechanism willed by God. The
metaphor of a world machine, (machina mundi)
is found in the writings of a great variety
of 12th and 13th century scholars. For example,
Robert Grosseteste asserted that, "The
world machine most evidently speaks of the eternal
art by which it has been made..."36
In his work on The Sphere, Grosseteste used
this metaphor three times in the first thirteen
lines of his treatise.37 Similarly the
metaphor of the world machine is found in the
writings of Alan of Lille, Hugh of St. Victor,
Bernard Sylvester, Sacrobosco and no doubt others.
For them, as for Hugh of St. Victor (d. 1141),
there were two "books of nature"a
visible and an invisible oneand whether
one was referring to the visible or invisible
world, there seems to be significant order,
a universal machine:
The ordered disposition of things from
top to bottom in the network of this universe
... is so arranged that, among all the things
that exist, nothing is unconnected or separable
by nature, or external." Furthermore,
"[t]he visible world is this machine,
this universe, that we see with our bodily
eyes.38 |
Likewise
Sacrobosco cites with approval a passage from
Dionysius the Areopagite: "Either the God
of nature suffers, or the mechanism of the universe
is dissolved."39
While
this enthusiasm for naturalistic images cropped
up in many places, some did take objection to
it. But defenders of the naturalistic view among
the clergy were well represented and even made
a distinction between the natural and the supernatural.
Thus a certain Andrew of St. Victor, argued
that in the interpretation of Scripture one
should first consider all naturalistic possibilities
before offering miracles as explanations. The
interpreter, he wrote, "should realize
this: in expounding Scripture, when the event
described admits of no naturalistic explanation,
then and only then should we have recourse to
miracles."40 In this Andrew was
apparently following St. Augustine.
In
this manner the Christian medievals reclaimed
the Old Testament notion that humankind was
created in the image of God. But now that image
was reinforced with the Greek idea that man
and nature were fully rational orders of existence.
Not only was nature a fully rational unity,
but man as a part of it was a fully rational
creature. Both continentals and Englishmen like
Adelard of Bath (fl. 1116-42) put forth optimistic
peans extolling the rationality of mankind:
Although man is not armed by nature nor
is [he] naturally swiftest in flight, yet
he has that which is better by far and worth
more¾that is, reason. For by possession
of this function he exceeds the beasts to
such a degree that he subdues them.... You
see, therefore, how much the gift of reason
surpasses mere physical equipment.41 |
With
the arrival of the newly translated "natural
books" of Aristotle, this neo-Platonic
enthusiasm for naturalistic inquiry was given
another powerful boost. Soon they were put at
the center of the university curriculum, in
Paris formally by statute in 1255. From there
they reigned supreme for the next 400 years.
Moreover, the teachings of Aristotle were linked
to the so-called questio literature. That is,
philosophy was taught in a format that began
by asking a question: "let us inquire whether."
For example, " let us inquire whether the
world is round... whether the earth moves...
whether it is possible that other worlds exist,...whether
the existence of a vacuum is possible,"
etc.42 These inquiries took the form
of arguing, in Abelard's memorable phrase, Sic
et Non [Yes and No], for and against various
answers to puzzling questions. While they did
not often arrive at novel conclusions, they
did proclaim the acceptability of publicly asking
such questions and engaging in formal controversy.
In that regard they institutionalized a form
of public inquiry that lies at the heart of
the scientific enterprise from that day to this.
In
the area of cosmology alone, Professor Grant
has catalogued 400 questions that were raised
regarding the celestial bodies, their composition
and motions. This generated 1,176 known responses,
and these were by no means slavish replies by
52 or more investigator.43
In
short, the medieval universities institutionalized
a mode of philosophical inquiry that laid the
foundations for the emergence of modern science.
The curriculum was a unique fusion of Christian
theology and Greek metaphysics, and it was just
this educational foundation that was experienced
in the universities by Copernicus and Galileo
a century or two later. Just as William of Conches
in the 12th century affirmed that it not the
task of the Bible to teach us about nature,
so too, Galileo wrote about four and half centuries
later, "the intention of the Holy ghost
is to teach us how one goes to heaven, not how
the heavens go."44
Faith and Reason
But
let me add a few concluding words regarding
the fate of philosophy and science in Judaism
during this period. The battle between faith
and reason clearly has a long history and has
taken many forms. If we look back to Philo of
Alexandria with whom I began this discussion,
we see a prescient vision of the unity between
reason and religion. For Philo the revealed
law of Moses was in harmony with natural law
and universal principles. The five books of
Moses revealed to Philo not just the sacred
word, but the superiority of Moses as a philosopher.
This themethat Judaism was the superior
religion and perfect philosophybecame
a major theme in Jewish circles throughout all
succeeding centuries, even into the 18th century.
Had Philo's synthesis been taken up by the Judaic
community following his death, no doubt scientific
history would have been different, as it accepted
philosophy as a legitimate enterprise fully
consistent with Scripture. As it is, the Jewish
community was to engage in periodic internal
conflicts over the appropriate role of reason
in religious affairs for the next seventeen
hundred years. Every rationalist attempt at
fusing philosophy and Scripture was met by an
equally strong anti-rationalist parry that virtually
deadlocked the community. Only with the emancipation
of Jews in Europein Germany in particular
in the late 18th centurywas the struggle
to achieve an acceptable balance between the
claims of reason and those of revealed law able
to reach acceptable definition
In
the meantime, during the period I have been
discussing there was only one truly outstanding
Jewish scientist, namely, Levi ben Gerson (Gersonides)
who lived in Southern France in the Provence,
and died in 1344. Gerson contributed a variety
of innovations in astronomy, including unique
astronomical instruments. He proposed a realist
theory of astronomy, which is to say he believed
that physical observations ought to correspond
to mathematical models and worked toward that
goal. At the same time Gerson composed commentaries
on the Bible and related discussions of religious
topics.45 Nevertheless, Gerson stands
as a lone exception during the whole intervening
period of Arabic-Islamic ascendancy up to the
14th century. As one scholar put it, "there
are no Jewish counterparts to such scientific
geniuses as ...al-Bir´n¥, Ibn al-Haytham,
and Thbit Ibn Qurra in the Arabic culture,
or Robert Grosseteste, Roger Bacon, and Nicole
Oremes in the Latin [culture]."46
There were, of course, other scientists and
notable intellectuals in the Jewish communities
spread out as they were during this time, but
they were not able to make contributions to
scientific progress equivalent to those mentioned.
While
it is appropriate to mention the name of the
great Maimonides, it must be said that the writings
of Maimonides served more to split the Jewish
community than to energize it for scientific
inquiry. For example, one result of his writings
was an attempt to restrict the study and teaching
of philosophy and the natural sciences until
the age of 25 in the Jewish communities in southern
France and Spain.47 While Maimonides
encouraged the study of the natural sciences,
some have criticized him for intimately linking
this with the achievement of religious piety,
for it suggested that philosophy had no independent
role to play. Furthermore, Maimonides, following
ancient tradition, treated the study of the
sciences as an esoteric enterprise reserved
for the privileged few and transmitted only
through private instruction.
As
late as the 14th century observers in the Jewish
community noted how different the educational
practice was in the Christian and Jewish communities.
A late 14th century physician from Provence,
Leon Joseph of Carcassone, lamented that in
comparison to the Jewish community, [the Christians']
exchanges on these sciences is unceasing, and
they miss nothing of what is worth investigating.
Instead, they leave out nothing when it is a
question of debating the truth and even the
falsehood of a [proposition]. Through their
vigorous scrutinizing questions and answers
by way of disputation ... and by explaining
everything through two contrary [opinions] they
have the truth emerge from the center [of the
contradiction] as a lily among the thorns.48
Thus
the unresolved conflicts between faith and reason
in the Jewish community persisted. By the mid
15th century the scholastic question and answer
method of presenting arguments had been adopted
by leading Jewish scholars.49 It also
seems fair to say that Greek modes of philosophical
inquiry were deeply embedded in Jewish thought
by this period, and that they could not be rooted
out, even if the Jewish community had attempted
to do so. When the Iberian Jewish community
revived in the Ottoman empire after being driven
out of Spain at the end of the 15th century,
it soon recovered and began teaching both the
secular sciences and the traditional religious
sciences.50 But here again the role of
philosophy as a handmaiden to religious enlightenment
became dominant with the corresponding decline
in naturalistic inquiry. Only with the so-called
Jewish enlightenment (Haskalah) in the 18th
century, did Jewish creativity begin to make
its mark on modern science
__________
Notes
1. Toby E. Huff, The Rise of Early
Modern Science: Islam, China and the West
(New York: Cambridge University Press, 1993).
2. Roy B. Chamberlain and Herman Feldman,
The Dartmouth Bible. An Abridgment of the
King James Version, with Aids to It Understanding
as History, Literature and as a Source of Religious
Experience 2nd edition (Boston: Houghton
Mifflin, 1961), 732a.
3. William W. Tarn and G. T. Griffith,
Hellenistic Civilization 3rd ed. (London:
Edward Arnold and Publishers, 1966), 3.
4. In this discussion I draw on the very
useful exposition of the Timaeus by Glenn
R. Morrow, "Necessity and Persuasion in
Plato's TIMAEUS," in Studies in Plato's
Metaphysics, ed. R. E. Allen (London: Routledge
and Kegan Paul, 1965), 421-37
5. Ernst Troeltsch, The Social Teachings
of the Christian Churches (New York: Harper
Torch Books, 1960) vol. 1: 150f; Helmut Koester,
"Nomos and Physeos: The Concept of Natural
Law in Greek Thought," in Religions
in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of E. R. Goodenough,
ed. Jacob Neusner (Leiden: E. J Brill, 1968),
521-541; Richard A. Horsely, "The Law of
Nature in Philo and Cicero," Harvard
Theological Review 7 (1978): 35-59; and
David Runia, Philo of Alexandria and the
Timaeus of Plato (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1986),
among others.
6. As cited in Horsley, "The Law
of Nature," p. 37f.
7. It has been pointed out by Biblical
scholars that the word Logos appears more than
thirteen hundred times in Philo's allegorical
interpretations of Old Testament passages; Interpreter's
Bible vol. 7 (Nashville, Tn: Abingdon Press,
1995), 442a.
8. This is most convincingly shown by
the masterful study of David Runia, Philo
of Alexandria and the Timaeus of Plato (Leiden:
E. J. Brill, 1986).
9. On the lack of Jewish philosophy in
the Greek mould until the medieval period, see
Dan Cohn-Sherbok Jewish Philosophy (Richmond,
Surrey: Curzon Press, 1996; and Daniel Frank,
"What is Jewish Philosophy" in History
of Jewish Philosophy, eds. Daniel Frank
and Oliver Leaman (New York: Routledge, 1997),
1-10; and the essays in Philosophy of the
Middle Ages, eds. Arthur Hyman and J.J.
Walsh (Indianapolis: Hackett, second edition),
337ff.
10. David Winston, "Introduction"
to Philo of Alexandria (New York: Paulist
Press, 1981), 36; and see Gregory E. Sterling,
"Jewish Self-Identify in Alexandria,"
The Studia Philonica Annual 7 (1995),
1-18, at 17.
11. Edwin Hatch, The Influence of
Greek Ideas on Christianity (Gloucester,
Ma: Peter Smith, 1970, reprinted from 1888).
12. Robert M. Grant, Miracles and
Natural Law in Greaeco-Roman and Early Christian
Thought (Amsterdam: North-Holland Publishing,
1952), and Edwin Hatch, Influence of Greek
Ideas on Christianity (Gloucester, Ma: Peter
Smith, 1970, reprinted from 1888), and D. Runia,
Philo in Early Christian Literature (Fortress
Press, Minneapolis,1993), as well as Ernst Troeltsch,
Social Teaching of the Christian Churches
(New York: Harper TorchBooks, 1960) vol. I,
esp. pp. 144f, 158-161; and p. 188n69.
13. Robert M, Grant, Miracles,
p. 266 and passim.
14. For another view see M. Bucaille,
The Bible, The Qur'an and Science (Paris:
Seghers, 1978); on which see Leif Stenberg,
The Islamization of Science. Four Muslim
Positions Developing and Islamic Modernity
(Lund: Nova Press, 1996), Chapter 5.
15. H.A.R. Gibb relates the case of an
Egyptian shaikh, Muhammad Abu Zaid, who in 1930,
published an edition of the Qur'an with annotations,
criticizing the old commentaries and interpreting
supernatural references in simple naturalistic
ways. Although the purpose of the work was to
encourage the younger generation to study the
Qur'an, the police confiscated the book, and
an injunction was secured to prevent the writer
from preaching or holding religious meetings.
H.A.R. Gibb, Modern Trends in Islam (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1947), 54. More
recently the Syrian engineer Muhammad Shahrur,
published a large exegetical study of the Qur'an
(The Book and the Qur'an: A Contemporary
Reading (Damascus: Al-Ahali lil-Taba'a wa-l-Nashr
wa-l-Tawzi'a, 1990). The study has been condemned
by many Muslims, banned in several Muslim countries,
provoked death threats, but sold surreptitiously
in thousands of copies; see, Dale F. Eickelman,
"Inside the Islamic Reformation,"
Wilson Quarterly 22 (Winter, 1998)2:
80-89. Also see Dale Eickelman, "Islamic
Liberalism Strikes Back" (A review of The
Book and the Qur'an: A Contemporary Reading),
MESA Bulletin #27 (1993): 163-168. For
the spirit of Shahrur's enterprise, see his
brief sketch, "The Divine Text and Pluralism
in Muslim Societies," Muslim Political
Reports #14 (July/August 1997): 3ff. This series
is published by Council on Foreign Relations,
New York.
16. I have primarily used the translation
of Abdullah Yusuf Ali but also consulted the
translations of N.J. Dawood, M.H. Shakir, and
Zafrullah Khan for all of these passages.
17. See J. Wensinck, The Muslim Creed
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1932);
and W.M. Watt, trans., Islamic Creeds: A Selection
(Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1994).
18. This a complex subject, on which
see Falzur Rahman, Prophecy in Islam
(Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1958); and the discussion
in the Introduction to Miamonides, The Guide
of the Perplexed vol. 1 by Shlomko Pines (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1963).
19. See W.M. Watt, Bell's Introduction
to the Qur'an (Edinburgh: University of
Edinburgh University. Press, 1970, revised and
enlarged), pp. 121-127.
20. The Faith and Practice of al-Ghazali,
edited and trans. by W. M. Watt (Lahore: Shaikh
Muhammad Ashraf, 1953), 37.
21. The Qur'an: Text, Translation
and Commentary (Beltsville, MD: 1995), 1446,
note 5098.
22. In his study of Ibn Sina, Lenn E.
Goodman discusses an argument regarding creation
and causality that appears to be grounded in
the causal logic of the Timaeus. But
it could as easily be grounded in Aristotle,
and no evidence is presented that Avicenna (or
al-Ghazali) actually studied or discussed the
Timaeus or its Galenic epitome. See Lenn
E. Goodman, Avicenna (New York: Routledge,
1992), 49f.
23. See S. Pines, Studies in Islamic
Atomism, trans., Michael Schwarz (Jerusalem:
Magnes Press, 1936/1997); W. Montgomery Watt,
The Formative Period of Islam (Edinburgh:
Edinburgh University Press, 1974); as well as
Majid Fakhry, Islamic Occasionalism, and
its Critique by Averroes and Aquinas (London:
Allen & Unwin,1958).
24. In Watt, The Formative Period
of Islam, 192.
25. Richard McCarthy, ed. trans., The
Theology of Ash'ari (Beirut: Imprimerie
Catholique, 1953), chapter 6, pp. 76ff.
26. See Michael Mamura, "Avicenna
and the Kalam," Zeitschrift für
Geschichte der Arabish-Islamischen Wissenschaften
7 (1991): 172-206.
27. Al-Ghazali's struggles are revealed
in his autobiography, see W.M. Watt, ed. trans.,
The Faith and Practice of al-Ghazali
(London: Allen and Unwin, 1953).
28. ibid., 37.
29. As cited in Averroes, Tahafat
al-Tahafah [The Incoherence of the Incoherence],
trans. Simon van den Berg (London: Luzac, 1954),
316 and al-Ghazali's The Incoherence of the
Philosophers, trans. M. Mamura (Provo, Utah:
Brigham Young Press, 1997), 170.
30. Al-Ghazali, The Alchemy of Happiness,
ed. trans. Daniel L. Elton (Armonk, New York:
M. E. Sharpe Inc, 1991), xxv.
31. Cf. M. Marmura, "Some Remarks
on Averroes's Statements on the Soul,"
in Averroes and the Enlightenment, eds.,
Moura Wahba and Mona Abousenna (Amherst, New
York: Prometheus Books, 1996), pp. 279-291,
at p. 280; who follows George Hourani, ed. trans.,
Averroes on the Harmony of Religion and Philosophy
(London: Luzac, reprinted 1976), esp. pp. 19
and 29.
32. See Niyazi Berkes, The Development
of Secularism in Turkey (Montreal: McGill
University Press, 1964).
33. Bernard Lewis, The Emergence of
Modern Turkey (London: Oxford University
Press, 1965), 84f.
34. A.I. Sabra, "Science and Philosophy
in Medieval Theology: The Evidence of the Fourteenth
Century," Zeitschrift für Geschichte
der Arabisch-Islamishen Wissenschaften (1994)
9: 1-42.
35. As cited in M.-D. Chenu, Nature,
Man, and Society (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1968), 41.
36. As cited in Servius Gieben, "Traces
of Word in Nature According to Robert Grosseteste,"
Franciscan Studies 24 (1964):144-158,
at p. 144.
37. Lynn White, Jr., Medieval Technology
and Social Change (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1962), p. 174n5.
38. As cited in Chenu, Nature, Man,
and Society, p. 7n10.
39. In Edward Grant, A Source Book
In Medieval Science (Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1974), 451.
40. As cited in Chenu, 17n35.
41. As cited in Tina Stiefel, "Science,
Reason and Faith in the Twelfth Century: The
Cosmologists' Attack on Tradition,"
Journal of European Studies 6 (1976): 1-16
at p. 3.
42. For a lucid exposition of this literature
and its use see Edward Grant, The Foundations
of Modern Science in the Middle Ages (New
York: Cambridge University Press1996), 127ff.
43. Edward Grant, Planets, Stars,
and Orbs. The Medieval Cosmos, 1200-1687
(Cambridge University Press, 1994).
44. Maurice Finocchiaro, ed., The
Galileo Affair (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1989), 96.
45. Among his many publications on this
subject, see Bernard Goldstein, "The Physical
Astronomy of Levi Ben Gerson," Perspectives
on Science 5 (1997)1: 1-30; idem, The
Astronomy of Levi Ben Gerson (1288-1344). A
Critical Edition of Chapters 1-20 with Translation
and Commentary (New York: Springer-Verlag,
1985); and Seymour Feldman, "Levi ben Gershom
(Gersonides)," History of Jewish Philosophy,
eds. D. Frank and O. Leaman (New York, Routledge,
1997), 379-398.
46. Gad Freudenthal, "Science in
the Medieval Jewish Culture of Southern France,"
History of Science 33 (1995): 23-58,
at p. 29.
47. Idit Dobbs-Weinstein, "The Maimonidean
Controversy," History of Jewish Philosophy,
eds Daniel Frank and Oliver Leaman (New York:
Routledge, 1997), 331-49, at p. 333; and Daniel
Silver, Maimonidean Criticism and the Maimonidean
Controversy 1180-1240 (Leiden: E.J. Brill,
1965), 41-48 and 148ff.
48. As cited in Freudenthal, "Science
in Medieval Jewish Culture," 46f.
49. Hava Tirosh-Rothschild, "The Eve of
Modernity," History of Jewish Philosophy
eds. Daniel Frank and Oliver Leaman (New York:
Routledge, 1997), 505.
50. Ibid., 530.
Dr. Toby E. Huff is Professor of Sociology
at the University of Massachusetts, Dartmouth,
e-mail thuff@umassd.edu.
An earlier draft of this paper was presented
to an International Conference on "Science in
Theistic Contexts: Cognitive Dimensions," sponsored
by the Pascal Center for Advanced Studies in
Faith and Science, and Redeemer College in Ancaster,
Ontario, Canada, July 21-25, 1998. I want to
thank Professor Elfie Raymond of Sarah Lawrence
College for her comments on earlier drafts,
as well as the participants at the Conference
for their comments.
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