CHAPTER IX

WESTERN PHILOSOPHY

Muslim rule in North Africa west of the Nile valley was commenced

under conditions very different from those prevailing in Egypt and

Syria. The Arabs found this land occupied by the Berbers or Libyans,

the same race which from the time of the earliest Pharaohs had been a

perpetual menace to Egypt, and which, on the Mediterranean seaboard,

had offered a serious problem to Phœnician, Greek, Roman and Gothic

colonists. For some thousands of years these Berbers had remained

very much the same as when they had emerged from the neolithic stage,

and were hardy desert men like the Arabs in pre-Islamic times. Their

language was not Semitic, but shows very marked Semitic affinities,

and, although language transmission is often quite distinct from racial

descent, it seems probable that in this case there was a parallel, and

this is best explained by supposing that both were derived from the

neolithic race which at one time spread along the whole of the south

coast of the Mediterranean and across into Arabia, but that some cause,

perhaps the early development of civilization in the Nile valley, had

cut off the eastern wing from the rest, and this segregated portion

developed the peculiar characteristics which we describe as Semitic.

The series of Greek, Punic, Roman, and Gothic settlements had left no

permanent mark on the Berber population, on their language, or on their

culture. At the time of the Arab invasion the country was theoretically

under the Byzantine Empire, and the invading Arabs had to meet the

resistance of a Greek army; but this was not a very serious obstacle,

and the invaders were soon left face to face with the Berber tribes.

The Muslim invasion of North Africa followed immediately after the

invasion of Egypt, but the internal disputes of the Muslim community

prevented a regular conquest. It was not until a second invasion

took place in A.H. 45 (= A.D. 665) that we can regard the Arabs as

commencing the regular conquest and settlement of the country. For

centuries afterwards the Arab control was precarious in the extreme,

revolts were constantly taking place, and many Berber states were

founded, some of which had an existence of considerable duration.

As a rule there was a pronounced racial feeling between Berbers and

Arabs, but there were also tribal feuds, and Arab policy generally

aimed at playing off one powerful tribe against another. Gradually

the Arabs spread all along North Africa and down to the desert edge,

their tribes as a rule occupying the lower ground, whilst the older

population had its chief centres in the mountainous districts. During

the invasion of 45 the city of Kairawan was founded some distance

south of Tunis. The site was badly chosen, and is now marked only by

ruins and a scanty village, but for some centuries it served as the

capital city of _Ifrikiya_, which was the name given to the province

lying next to Egypt, embracing the modern states of Tripoli, Tunis,

and the eastern part of Algeria up to the meridian of Bougie. West

of this lay _Maghrab_, or the “western land,” which was divided into

two districts, Central Maghrab extending from the borders of Ifrikiya

across the greater part of Algeria and the eastern third of Morocco,

and Further Maghrab, which spread beyond to the Atlantic coast. In

these provinces Arabs and Berbers lived side by side, but in distinct

tribes, the intercourse between the two varying in different localities

and at different times. For the most part each race preserved its own

language, the several Arabic dialects being distinguished by archaic

forms and a phonology somewhat modified by Berber influences; but there

are instances of Berber tribes which have adopted Arabic, and some of

the Arab and mixed groups have preferred the Berber language.

The religion of Islam spread rapidly amongst the Berbers, but it took

a particular development, which shows a survival of many pre-Islamic

religious ideas. The worship of saints and the devotion paid at their

tombs is a corruption which appears elsewhere, on lines quite distinct

from the Asiatic beliefs as to incarnation or transmigration, and in

the west this saint worship takes an extreme form, although here and

there are tribes which reject it altogether, as is the case with the B.

Messara, the Ida of South Morocco, etc. Pilgrimages (_ziara_) are made

to saints’ tombs, commemorative banquets are held there (_wa´da_ or

_ta´an_), and acts of worship, often taking a revolting form, are paid

to living saints, who are known as _murabits_ or _marabouts_, a word

which literally means “those who serve in frontier forts (_ribat_),”

where the soldiers were accustomed to devote themselves to practices

of piety. These saints are also known as _sidi_ (lords), or _mulaye_

(teachers), and in the Berber language of the Twaregs as _aneslem_,

or “Islamic.” Very often they are insane persons, and are allowed to

indulge every passion and to disregard the ordinary laws of morality.

Even those living at the present day are credited with miraculous

powers, not only with gifts of healing, but with exemption from the

limitations of space and from the laws of gravity (cf. Trumelet: _Les

saints de l’islam_, Paris, 1881); in many cases the same saint has two

or more tombs, and is believed to be buried in each, for it is argued

that, as he was able to be in two or more places at once during life,

so his body can be in several tombs after death. All this, of course,

is no normal development of Islam, to which it is plainly repugnant.

How thin a veneer of Muslim usages covers over a mass of primitive

animism may be seen from Dr. Westermarck’s essay on “Belief in spirits

in Morocco,” the firstfruits of the newly established Academy at Abo in

Finland (_Humaniora._ I. i. Abo, Finland, 1920), and from Dr. Montet’s

_Le culte des saints musulmans dans l’Afrique du nord_ (Geneva, 1905).

Amongst the Berber tribes in perpetual conflict with the Arab garrisons

there was always a refuge and a welcome for the lost causes of Islam,

and so almost every heretical sect and every defeated dynasty made

its last stand there, so that even now those parts show the strangest

survivals of otherwise forgotten movements. No doubt this was mainly

due to a perennial tone of disaffection towards the Arab rulers, and

anyone in revolt against the Khalif was welcomed for that very fact.

The conquest of Spain towards the end of the 1st cent. A.H. (early 8th

cent. A.D.) was jointly an Arab and Berber undertaking, the Berbers

being in the great majority in the invading army, and most of the

leaders being Berber. Thus in Andalusia the old rivalries between Arab

and Berber figure largely in the next few centuries. At first Andalusia

was regarded merely as a district attached to the province of North

Africa, and was ruled from Ifrikiya.

In A.H. 138, after the fall of the Umayyads in Asia, a fugitive member

of the fallen dynasty, `Abdu r-Rahman, failing in an attempt to restore

his family in Africa, crossed over to Spain, and there established a

new and independent power, with its seat of government at Cordova,

and in A.H. 317 one of his descendants formally assumed the title

of “Commander of the Faithful.” The Umayyads of Spain very closely

reproduced the general characteristics of their rule in Syria. They

were tolerant, and made free use of Christian and Jewish officials;

they encouraged the older literary arts, and especially poetry, and

employed Greek artists and architects; but though doing much for the

more material elements of culture, there is no evidence under their

rule of any interest in Greek learning or philosophy. Yet, though in a

sense old-fashioned, the country was by no means isolated, and we find

frequent intercourse between Spain and the east. The religious duty of

the pilgrimage has always been an important factor in promoting the

common life of Islam, and there is abundant evidence that the Spanish

Muslims looked steadily eastwards for religious guidance, accepting

the _hadith_, the canon law, and the development of a scientific

jurisprudence as it took shape in the east. Both Muslims and Jews

travelled to Mesopotamia in order to complete their education, and thus

kept in contact with the more cultured life of Asia. But Spanish Islam

had no feeling of sympathy with the philosophical speculation popular

in the east, and certainly disapproved the latitudinarian developments

which were taking place under the `Abbasids of the third century:

its tendency was to a rigid orthodoxy and strict conservatism, its

interests were confined to the canon law, Qur´anic exegesis, and the

study of tradition.

The reactionary character of Spanish Islam is well illustrated by

_Ibn Hazm_ (d. 456 A.H.), the first important theologian which it

produced. Rejecting the four recognised and orthodox schools of canon

law, and discarding even the rigid system of Ibn Hanbal as not strict

enough, he became an adherent of the school founded by Da´ud az-Zahiri

(d. 270), which has never been admitted as on the same footing as the

other four, and now is totally extinct. In the teaching of that school

Qur´an and tradition were taken in their strictest and most literal

sense; any sort of deduction by analogy was forbidden; “it is evident

that here we have to do with an impossible man and school, and so the

Muslim world found. Most said roundly that it was illegal to appoint a

Zahirite to act as judge, on much the same grounds that objection to

circumstantial evidence will throw out a man now as juror. If they had

been using modern language, they would have said that it was because

he was a hopeless crank.” (Macdonald: _Muslim Theology_, p. 110). This

was the system which Ibn Hazm now introduced into Spain, and it was

one calculated to appeal to the stern puritan strain which undoubtedly

exists in the Iberian character. The novel point was that Ibn Hazm

applied the principles and methods of jurisprudence to theology proper.

Like Da´ud he entirely rejected the principles of analogy and _taqlid_,

that is, the following of authority in the sense of accepting the

dictum of a known teacher. As this undermined all existing systems, and

required every man to study Qur´an and tradition for himself, it did

not receive the approval of the canonists, who, in Spain as elsewhere,

were the followers of recognised schools, such as that of Abu Hanifa

and the other orthodox systems, and it was not until a full century

afterwards that he gained any number of adherents. In theology he

admitted the Ash`arite doctrine of _mukhalafa_, the difference of God

from all created beings, so that human attributes could not be applied

to him in the same sense as they were used of men; but he carried this

a stage further, and opposed the Ash`arites, who, though admitting

the difference, had then argued about the attributes of God as though

they described God’s nature, when the very fact of difference deprives

them of any meaning intelligible to us. As in the Qur´an ninety-nine

descriptive titles are applied to God we may lawfully employ them, but

we neither know what they imply nor can we argue anything from them.

The same method is applied to the treatment of the anthropomorphical

expressions which are applied to God in the Qur´an; we may use those

expressions, but we have not the slightest idea of what they may

indicate, save that we know they do not mean what they would mean as

used of men. In ethics the only distinction between good and evil is

based on God’s will, and our only knowledge of that distinction is

obtained from revelation. If God forbids theft it is wrong only because

God forbids it; there is no standard other than the arbitrary approval

or disapproval of God.

Although it took a century for these views to obtain any number of

adherents, Ibn Hazm was no obscure figure during his lifetime. He

became prominent as a violent and abusive controversialist, an opponent

of the Ash`arite party and of the Mu`tazilites, curiously enough

treating the latter more gently as having limited God’s qualities.

Ibn Hazm lived at a time when the Umayyads of Cordova were already

in their decay, and in 422 the dynasty fell. Very soon the whole of

Andalusia was split into a number of independent principalities, and

this was followed by a period of anarchy, during which the country

was exposed more and more to Christian attacks, until at length

Mu`tamid, King of Seville, fearing that the Muslim states would

disappear altogether under the tide of Christian conquest, advised his

co-religionists to appeal for help to the Murabit power in Morocco,

which, with much misgiving, they did.

The Murabits, the name is that commonly applied to saints in Morocco,

were the product of a religious revival led by Yahya b. Ibrahim of the

clan of the Jidala, a branch of the great Berber tribe of Latuna, one

of those light-complexioned Berber races such as can still be seen

in Algeria, and are apparently nearest akin to the Lebu as they are

represented in ancient Egyptian paintings. In 428 (= 1036 A.D.) Yahya

performed the pilgrimage to Mecca, and was astonished and delighted

at the evidences of culture and prosperity which he saw in the lands

through which he travelled, so far exceeding anything which had

previously entered his experience. On his return journey he stopped

at Kairawan and became a hearer at the lectures given there by Abu

Amran. The lecturer was greatly struck by the diligence and attention

of his pupil, and greatly surprised when he discovered that he was a

product of one of the wild and barbarous tribes of the far west. But

when Yahya asked that one of the alumni of Kairawan might be sent

home with him to teach his fellow-tribesmen no one was found willing

to venture amongst a people who were generally regarded as fierce and

savage, until at last the task was undertaken by Abdullah ibn Jahsim.

Helped by his companion Yahya commenced a religious revival amongst

the Berbers of the West, and seems to have modelled his work on the

example of the Prophet, by force of arms urging his reforms upon the

neighbouring tribes and laying the foundation of a united kingdom, a

work which was continued by his successor, Yusuf b. Tashfin, and so

at length a powerful kingdom was established, which extended from the

Mediterranean to the Senegal. Many such Berber states were established

at various times, but, as a rule, they fell into decay after a couple

of generations.

Yusuf b. Tashfin was the champion now invited by the Muslims of Spain,

not without misgivings in many quarters, but the choice seemed to lie

only between Christian or Berber, and the Berbers were at least of

their own religion and of the same race as the majority of the Spanish

Muslims. Yusuf came as a helper, but a second time invited he stayed on

and established his authority over the country, and thus Spain became

a province under the rule of the Murabit princes of Morocco. Yusuf was

succeeded by `Ali, who was successful in restraining the Christians,

and at one time even formed plans to drive them out of Spain altogether.

Murabit rule, which lasted 35 years, brought many changes and itself

experienced many changes. The rulers were rough men of uncouth manners

and fanatical outlook. Not many years before, it will be remembered,

the Arabs of Kairawan were reluctant to venture into their land, such

was their ill repute. They were partially humanised by a religious

movement, and thus naturally show a religious character which bordered

on fanaticism. `Ali himself was entirely in the hands of the _faqirs_

or mendicant devotees and qadis, and the government was liable to

interference from these irresponsible fanatics at every turn. It was a

state of affairs which awakened the impatience of the cultured Muslims

of Spain, who expressed their feelings in many caustic epigrams and

satirical poems. But very soon a change began to work. The Murabits

and their followers did not become less attached to the devotees, who

swarmed unchecked on every side and received idolatrous attentions

from the multitude, but they learned the luxuries and refinements of

the cultured life then prevailing in Spain and showed themselves apt

pupils. Indeed, their downfall may be explained either as due to effete

luxury or to faqir-ridden superstition, as we shall see later on.

The intellectual life of Muslim Spain up to the Murabit period was

conservative rather than backward. Its literary men were nearer the old

traditional Arab type than was the case in the eastern Khalifate, where

Persian influences had pushed the Arab so much into the background;

its scholars were still occupied exclusively with the traditional

sciences, exegesis, canon law, and traditions. The Murabit invasion

offered a stimulus to satirical verse, but otherwise did nothing to

promote either literature or science. Yet it is under Murabit rule

that we find the first beginnings of western philosophy, and the line

of transmission is from the Mu`tazilites of Baghdad through the Jews

and thence to the Muslims of Spain. The Jews act as intermediaries who

bring the Muslim philosophy of Asia into contact with the Muslims of

Spain.

For a long time the Jews had taken no part in the development of

Hellenistic philosophy, although in the latter Syriac period they

had participated in medical studies and in natural science, of which

we have seen evidence in the important work of Jewish physicians and

scientists at Baghdad under al-Ma´mun and the early `Abbasids. Outside

medicine and natural science Jewish interest seems to have been mainly

confined to Biblical exegesis, tradition, and canon law.

One of the few exceptions to this restriction of interests was

_Sa`id al-Fayyumi_ or Saadya ben Joseph (d. 331 A.H. = 942 A.D.), a

native of Upper Egypt, who became one of the Geonim of the academy

at Sora on the Euphrates, and is best known as the translator of the

Old Testament into Arabic, which had now replaced Aramaic as the

speech of the Jews both in Asia and in Spain. As an author his most

important work was the _Kitab al-Amanat wa-l-´Itiqadat_, or “Book of

the articles of faith and dogmatics,” which was finished in 321-2 (=

A.D. 933), and was afterwards translated into Hebrew as _Sefer Emunot

we-De´ot_ by Judah b. Tibbon. He was the author also of a commentary

on the Pentateuch, of which only a portion (on Exod. 30, 11-16)

survives, as well as other works; but it is in the first-named and

in the commentary that his views appear most clearly. For the first

time a Jewish writer shows familiarity with the problems raised by

the Mu`tazilites, and gives these a serious attention from the Jewish

stand-point. It does not seem, however, that we should class Sa`id as

a Mu`tazilite; he more properly represents the movement which produced

his Muslim contemporaries, al-Ash`ari and al-Mataridi, that is to say,

he is one of those who use orthodox _kalam_ and adapt philosophy to

apologetic purposes. His position is shown most clearly in the “Book of

the articles of faith and dogmatics” in dealing with the three problems

of (_a_) creation, (_b_) the Divine Unity, and (_c_) free will. In the

first of these he defends the doctrine of a creation _ex nihilo_, but

in giving proofs of the necessity of a creator he shows in three out of

the four arguments employed distinct traces of Aristotelian influences.

In treating the doctrine of the Divine Unity he is chiefly concerned

with opposing the Christian teaching of the Trinity, but incidentally

is compelled to deal with the idea of God and the Divine attributes,

and in doing so maintains that none of the Aristotelian categories can

be applied to God. As to the human will he defends its freedom, and his

task is mainly an effort to reconcile this with the omnipotence and

omniscience of God. In the fragment on Exodus he refers to the commands

of revelation and the commands of reason, these latter, he asserts,

being based on philosophical speculation.

Evidently the _Mutakallamin_ movement, professedly an orthodox

reaction from the Mu`tazilites, represents a great widening of

philosophical influences. Philosophy was no longer a subject confined

to one group of scholars who were interested in Greek writings, but

had spread out until it reached the mosques, and could no longer be

thrust aside as an heretical aberration, and in its outspread it had

penetrated the Jewish schools as well. But Sa`id produced no immediate

disciples, and those who followed him in the Jewish academies of

Mesopotamia showed no interest in his methods. Yet his work, apparently

barren, was destined to have results of the widest importance after a

century’s interval. In spite of distance and the difficulties of travel

there was a very close and frequent intercourse maintained between all

the Jews of the Sefardi group, those, namely, who had adopted Arabic

as their ordinary speech and who were living under Muslim rule. The

Ashkenazi Jews in the north and centre of Europe who lived in Christian

lands and did not use Arabic were definitely separated from these

others by the barrier of language, and thus in different surroundings

the two groups developed marked differences in their use of Hebrew,

in their liturgical formularies, and in their popular beliefs and

folk-lore. Thus we must bear in mind that a synagogue in Spain would

naturally be in close touch with synagogues in Mesopotamia, but it was

not likely to have any contact with one in the Rhine valley.

Although the earlier Jewish settlers in Spain and Provence had enjoyed

considerable freedom, restrictions had been imposed by the council

of Elvira (A.D. 303-4), and they had to suffer considerable severity

under the later West Goths. The coming of the Muslims had greatly

eased their position, chiefly because the Jews had taken a leading

part in assisting and probably in inviting the invaders; they often

furnished garrisons to occupy towns which the Muslims had conquered,

and were the means of supplying them with information as to the enemy’s

movements. It seems probable that they had been in correspondence with

the Muslims beforehand, so that they shared with Witiza’s partisans

the responsibility of inviting the invasion. Under Umayyad rule their

prosperity continued and increased. Very often we find Jews occupying

high positions at court and in the civil service, and these favorable

conditions seem to have prevailed until the time of the Muwahhids, for

it does not appear that the Murabits, for all their fanaticism, took

any measures against Christians or Jews.

Important amongst the Jews of the Umayyad period was _Hasdai ben

Shabrut_ (d. 360 or 380 A.H.), a physician under `Abdu r-Rahman, who

sent presents to Sora and Pumbaditha, and carried on a correspondence

with Dosa, son of the Gaon Sa`id al-Fayyumi. Hitherto it had been the

custom for the western Jews to refer all difficult problems of the

canon law to the learned of the academies in Mesopotamia, just as their

Muslim neighbours referred to the East for guidance in jurisprudence

and theology. But Hasdai took advantage of the accidental presence

of Moses Ben Enoch in Cordova to found a native Spanish academy for

rabbinical studies there, and appointed Moses its president, a step

which received the warm approval of the Umayyad prince. This turned

out to be more important than its founder had anticipated; it was

not merely a provincial school reproducing the work of the eastern

academies, but resulted in the transference of Jewish scholarship to

Spain. At that time Asiatic Islam was beginning to feel the restricting

power of the orthodox reaction, whilst Spain, on the other hand, saw

the opening of a golden age. Shortly before this date the Umayyad Hakim

II. had been working to encourage Muslim scholarship in the west, and

had sent his agents to purchase books in Cairo, Damascus, Baghdad,

and Alexandria. In the reactionary age of Mahmud of Ghazna (388-421)

Muslim b. Muhammad al-Andalusi had been instrumental in introducing

the teachings of the “Brethren of Purity” to the Muslims of Spain. We

cannot say that the Jews anticipated the Muslims of Spain in their

study of philosophy, but it is clear that the Jews were associated with

the first dawn of the new learning in Spain, and thus as the sun was

setting in the East a new day was beginning to break in the West.

The first leader of Spanish philosophy was the Jew _Abu Ayyub Sulayman

b. Yahya b. Jabirul_ (d. 450 A.H. = 1058 A.D.), commonly known as Ibn

Gabirol (Jabirul), and hence “Avencebrol” in the Latin scholastic

writers. He is chiefly known as the author of _Maqor Chayim_, “The

Fountain of Life,” a title based on the words of Psalm 36, 10, which

was one of the works translated into Latin at the college of Toledo

and so well known to the scholastic writers as the _Fons Vitae_ (ed.

Baumer: _Avencebrolis Fons Vitae_, Münster, 1895). It was this work

which really introduced neo-Platonism to the West. Ibn Jabirul teaches

that God alone is pure reality, and He is the only actual substance;

He has no attributes, but in Him are will and wisdom, not as possessed

attributes but as aspects of His nature. The world is produced by

the impress of form upon pre-existing universal matter. “Separate

substances” in the sense of ideas abstracted from the things in which

they exist (cf. Aristot. _de anima_. iii. 7, 8, “and so the mind when

it thinks of mathematical forms thinks of them as separated, though

they are not separated”) do not exist apart in reality; the abstracting

is only a mental process, so the general idea exists only as a concept,

not as a reality. But between the purely spiritual being of God and

the crudely material observed in the bodies existing in this world are

intermediate forms of existence, such as angels, souls, etc., wherein

the form is not impressed upon matter.

Besides this “Fountain of Life” Ibn Gabirol was the author of two

ethical treatises, the _Tikkun Midwoth han-Nefesh_, “the correction of

the manners of the soul,” in which man is treated as a microcosm after

the kabbalistic fashion; and _Mibchar hap-Peninim_, a collection of

ethical maxims collected from the Greek and Arabic philosophers. The

former has been published at Luneville in 1804, the latter at Hamburg

in 1844.

At the beginning of the sixth century A.H., a younger contemporary

of al-Ghazali, we have _Abu Bakr ibn Bajja_ (d. 533 A.H. = 1138

A.D.), the first of the Muslim philosophers of Spain. By this time,

some three-quarters of a century after the death of Ibn Sina,

Arabic philosophy was almost extinct in Asia and was treated as a

dangerous heresy. In Egypt, it is true, there was a greater degree of

toleration, though less than in the golden age of the Fatimids, but

Egypt was regarded with suspicion as the home of heresy and of forms

of superstition which were uncongenial to the philosopher. Spain thus

becomes the place of refuge for Muslim philosophy as it had already

become the nursery of Jewish speculation. Ibn Bajja, known to the

Latin schoolmen as “Avempace,” found in Murabit Spain the freedom

and toleration which Asia no longer afforded. He continues the work

of al-Farabi, not, it will be noted, of Ibn Sina, and develops the

neo-Platonic interpretation of Aristotle on sober and conservative

lines. He wrote commentaries on Aristotle’s Physics, _de generatione

et corruptione_, and the _Meteora_; he produced original works on

mathematics, on “the soul,” and a treatise which he called “The

Hermit’s Guide,” which was used by Ibn Rushd (Averroes) and by the

Jewish writer Moses of Narbonne in the 14th cent. A.D. In this last

work he makes a distinction between “animal activity,” in which action

is due to the prompting of the emotions, passions, etc., and “human

activity,” which is suggested and directed by abstract reason, and from

this distinction draws a rule of life and conduct. He is chiefly cited

by the Latin schoolmen with reference to the doctrine of “separate

substances.” “Avempace held that, by the study of the speculative

sciences, we are able by means of the images which we know from these

ideas to attain to the knowledge of separate substances” (St. Thomas

Aq. _c. Gentiles_, 3, 41). This question as to the possibility of

knowing substances separated, i.e. abstracted, from the concrete bodies

in which they exist in combination--and the “separate substances” were

regarded as spiritual things--was prominent in mediæval scholasticism,

which inherited it from the Arabic philosophers, and from it came the

further question whether the contemplation of such abstract ideas gives

us a better knowledge of realities than observation of the concrete

bodies. Both Albertus Magnus and St. Thomas Aquinas associate Avempace

especially with this question and with the doctrine of the “acquired

intellect,” to which we have already referred in our notes on Ibn Sina,

and which completes the theory of “separate substances” by supposing

that intelligible forms stream into our souls from an outside Agent

Intellect by way of emanation as substantial forms descend on corporeal

matter. St. Thomas Aquinas shows direct knowledge of Avempace’s

treatment of these subjects, but this is not so evident in Albertus.

Avempace, like all other Arabic philosophers, describes _ittisal_ or

union of the human intellect with the Agent Intellect, of which it is

an emanation, as the supreme beatitude and final end of human life. By

the operation of the Agent Intellect on the latent intellect in man

this is awakened to life, but eternal life consists in the complete

union of the intellect with the Agent Intellect. In Avempace the Sufi

strain is much weaker than in al-Farabi; the means of attaining this

union is not by ecstasy, but by a steady disentangling of the soul

of those material things which hinder its pure intellectual life and

consequent union. This leads us to the teaching of asceticism as the

discipline of the soul for its spiritual progress, and the ascetic

and solitary life is the ideal proposed by Avempace. This ascetic and

contemplative hermit life is not, however, in any sense a religious

life, for in this respect Avempace has advanced far beyond al-Farabi;

he is fully conscious that pure philosophy cannot be reconciled with

the teachings of revelation, a conviction which now marks the definite

separation of the “philosophers” from the orthodox scholastics of

Islam, such as al-Ghazali and his school; he regards the teachings

of revelation as an imperfect presentation of the truths which are

more completely and correctly learned from Aristotle, and only admits

the Qur´an and its religion as a discipline for the multitude whose

intelligence neither desires nor is capable of philosophical reasoning.

Strangely enough he lived in security, protected from the attacks of

hostile theologians, under the protection of the Murabit princes.

Within a few years after the death of Avempace the Murabit dynasty came

to an end. The succeeding dynasty, the Muwahhids, were of Berber origin

like the Murabits, and, like them, had their origin in a religious

revival.

The foundation of the Muwahhids is associated with _Ibn Tumart_

(d. 524 A.H. = 1129 A.D.). He was a native of Morocco, and a strange

combination of fanatic and scholastic. He claimed to be a descendant

of `Ali, and posed as the “Mahdi” possessing the supernatural grace

of _isma_ or “security from error,” and thus introduced Shi`ite ideas

into Morocco; and at the same time it was he who introduced to the West

the orthodox scholasticism of al-Ghazali, although at the same time he

professed to be a follower of Ibn Hazm. He travelled in Asia, where,

no doubt, he learned of al-Ghazali and his doctrines. Roughly treated

at Mecca he removed to Egypt, where he rendered himself prominent and

objectionable by his puritanical criticisms on the manners of the

people. Setting out from Alexandria in a ship travelling westwards

he occupied himself with a reformation of the morals of the crew,

compelling them to observe the correct hours of prayer and the other

duties of religion. In 505 he appeared at Mahdiya, where he took up

his abode in a wayside mosque. There he used to sit at the window

watching the passers-by, and, whenever he saw any of them carrying a

jar of wine or a musical instrument, he used to sally out and seize the

offensive article and break it. The common people reverenced him as

a saint, but many of the wealthier citizens resented his activities,

and at length brought a complaint against him before the Emir Yahya.

The Emir heard their complaints and observed Ibn Tumart and took note

of the impression he had made upon the populace. With characteristic

craft the Emir treated the reformer with all possible respect, but

advised, nay rather urged, him to bestow the favour of his presence

upon some other town as soon as convenient to him, and so he removed to

Bijaiya (Bougie in Algeria). Here his ways were extremely unpopular,

and he was driven away. He next settled at Mellala, where he met a boy

named `Abdu l-Mumin al-Kumi (d. 558), a potter’s son, whom he made his

disciple and declared to be his successor. At this time the Murabit

dynasty had fallen from its original puritanism and was distinguished

for the wealth and luxury which had been made possible by the conquest

of Spain, and the splendour and ostentation of the royal family at

Morocco laid it open to criticism. One Friday a faqir entered the

public square where a throne was made ready for the Emir, and, pushing

his way through the guards who stood round, boldly took his seat upon

the throne and refused to leave. It was the Mahdi Ibn Tumart, and,

so great was the superstitious reverence accorded to all faqirs, and

to him above all, that none of the guards standing round ventured to

remove him by force. At length the Emir himself appeared and, finding

who had occupied his official seat, declined to interfere with the

redoubtable faqir’s will, but it was privately made plain to Ibn Tumart

that it would be wise for him to leave the city for a while. The Mahdi

therefore retired to Fez, but soon afterwards returned to Morocco.

One day he met in the streets the Emir’s sister, who had adopted the

shameless foreign custom of riding in public without a veil. The Mahdi

stopped her and poured out a stream of abuse at her for this neglect

of established custom, then, overcome by his indignation, he pulled

her off the beast she was riding. He seems, however, to have felt some

alarm at his own temerity and fled forthwith to Tinamel, where he

openly raised the standard of revolt against a corrupt and unfaithful

dynasty. At first this rebellion did not meet with much success, but,

after the Mahdi’s death, the leadership fell to his pupil, `Abdu

l-Mumin, who took Oran, Tlemsen, Fez, Sale, Ceuta, and in 542 became

master of Morocco, and in due course seized all the empire of the

Murabits. The new dynasty established by `Abdu l-Mumin is known by

the name of the Muwahhids or “Unitarians,” a title which the Spanish

historians render by “Almohades,” and their rule endured until 667 A.H.

(= 1268 A.D.).

Ibn Tumart professed to be a follower of al-Ghazali, and introduced

his system of orthodox scholasticism to the West. In canon law he

followed the reactionary school of Da´ud az-Zahiri and Ibn Hazm, like

the Murabits who preceded him. To the multitude he was the champion of

Berber nationality; he translated the Qur´an into the Berber language,

and caused the call to prayer to be made in Berber instead of Arabic.

Muwahhid rule introduced a period of bigotry and of religious

persecution. It was under the rule of this dynasty that we find the

Jews leaving the country in large numbers and migrating to Africa or to

Provence, and many Christians also fled to join the Castilian forces in

the north. Modern historians tend to condemn the later severities of

Christian rulers towards their Muslim subjects, and often seem to speak

of those subjects as the peaceable and cultured population which had

lived under the Umayyads and the Murabits. But Spain’s last experience

of the Muslims was of the fierce, bigoted, and persecuting Muwahhids,

whose tone was very different. Strangely, however, it was under these

intolerant rulers that Spanish Islam passed through its golden age

of philosophical speculation, and not only so, but the philosophers

were protected and favoured by the Muwahhid court. Quite early in

this period the position seems to have been tacitly arranged that the

philosophers were absolutely free in their work and teaching, provided

that teaching was not spread abroad amongst the populace: it was to be

regarded as a species of esoteric truth reserved for the enlightened.

It seems almost certain that this attitude was deliberately arranged

by the philosophers themselves; it had already been sketched out by

some of the Asiatic writers, and definitely laid down by al-Ash`ari

and al-Ghazali, and the Muwahhids, it must be remembered, professed to

be Ghazalians. But whilst the philosophers enjoyed this exceptional

freedom of speculation, so different from the repressive orthodoxy

of the Turkish dynasties in Asia, and defended the system in their

writings, the rulers officially were enforcing amongst the multitude of

their subjects the severest orthodoxy and the most reactionary system

of jurisprudence, so reactionary that it was never admitted by the

Asiatic sultans.

The first great leader of philosophical thought in Muwahhid Spain

was _Ibn Tufayl_ (d. 581 = 1185), who was wazir and court physician

under the Muwahhid Abu Yaqub (A.H. 558-580). His teaching was in

general conformity with that of Ibn Bajja (Avempace), but the mystic

element is much more strongly marked. He admits ecstasy as a means of

attaining the highest knowledge and of approaching God. But in Ibn

Tufayl’s teaching this knowledge differs very much from that aimed at

by the Sufis: it is mystic philosophy rather than mystic theology. The

beatific vision reveals the Agent Intellect and the chain of causation

reaching down to man and then back again to itself.

In his views as to the need of removing the doctrines of philosophy

from the multitude he shows the same principles as Ibn Bajja, which

are those which came to be recognised as the proper official attitude

under the Muwahhids, and defends them in a romance called _Hayy b.

Yaqzan_, “the Living One son of the Wakeful,” the work by which his

name is best remembered. In this story we have the picture of two

islands, one inhabited by a solitary recluse who spends his time in

contemplation and thereby raises his intellect until he finds that he

is able to apprehend the eternal verities which are in the One Active

intellect. The other island is inhabited by ordinary people who are

occupied in the commonplace incidents of life and follow the practices

of religion in the form known to them. In this way they are content

and happy, but fall far short of the complete and perfect happiness of

the recluse on the other island. In course of time the recluse, who is

perfectly well aware of the neighbouring island and its inhabitants,

begins to feel great pity for them in that they are excluded from the

more perfect felicity which he enjoys, and in an honest desire for

their welfare, goes over to them and preaches the truth as he has found

it. For the most part he is quite unintelligible to them, and the only

result is that he produces confusion, doubt, and controversial strife

amongst those whom he desired to benefit, but who are incapable of the

intellectual life which he has led. In the end he returns to his island

convinced that it is a mistake to interfere with the conventional

religion of the multitude.

_Ibn Rushd_ (A.H. 520-595), known to the West as Averroes, was the

greatest of the Arabic philosophers, and was practically their last.

He was a native of Cordova and the friend and protégé of Ibn Tufayl,

by whom he was introduced to Abu Ya´qub in 548. He was, however, more

outspoken than Ibn Tufayl, and wrote several controversial works

against al-Ghazali and his followers. The family to which he belonged

was one whose members usually became jurists, and Ibn Rushd acted as

Qadi in various Spanish towns; like most of the Arabic philosophers

he studied medicine, and in 578 was appointed court physician to Abu

Ya´qub. By this time he had finished his career as an author. Under

the Muwahhid Abu Yusuf al-Mansur he was censured as a heretic and

banished from Cordova. It must be remembered that the Muwahhids, like

the Murabits, were really Moroccan rulers, to whom Spain was a foreign

province. It was whilst the Emir was in Spain and at Cordova, making

ready for an attack upon the Christians, that Ibn Rushd was disgraced,

and it seems probable that this was mainly a matter of policy, as the

Emir, on the eve of a religious war, was desirous of proving his own

strict orthodoxy by the public disapproval of one who had been rather

too outspoken in his speculative theories. As soon as the Emir returned

to Morocco the order of exile was revoked, and later on Ibn Rushd

appears at the court of Morocco, where he died in 595.

Amongst the Muslims Ibn Rushd has not exercised great influence; it was

the Jews who supplied the bulk of his admirers, and they, scattered in

Provence and Sicily by Muwahhid persecution, seem to have been chiefly

instrumental in introducing him to Latin Christendom.

His chief medical work was known as the _Kulliyat_, “the universal,”

which, under the Latinized name of “colliget,” became popular as a

manual in the mediæval universities where the Arabic system of medicine

was in use. He wrote also on jurisprudence a text-book of the law of

inheritance, which is still extant in MS., and also produced works on

astronomy and grammar. He maintained that the task of philosophy was

one approved and commended by religion, for the Qur´an shows that God

commands men to search for the truth. It is only the prejudice of the

unenlightened which fears freedom of thought, because for those whose

knowledge is imperfect the truths of philosophy seem to be contrary

to religion. On this topic he composed two theological treatises--“On

the Agreement of Religion with Philosophy” and “On the Demonstration

of Religious Dogmas,” both of which have been edited by M. J. Mueller.

The popular beliefs he does not accept, but he regards them as wisely

designed to teach morality and to develop piety amongst the people

at large; the true philosopher allows no word to be uttered against

established religion, which is a thing necessary for the welfare of the

people. Aristotle he regards as the supreme revelation of God to man:

with it religion is in total agreement, but as religion is known to the

multitude it only partially discloses Divine truth and adapts it to the

practical needs of the many; in religion there is a literal meaning,

which is all the uneducated are able to attain, and there is an

“interpretation,” which is the disclosing of deeper truths beneath the

surface which it is not expedient to communicate to the multitude. He

opposes the position of Ibn Bajja, who inclined to solitary meditation

and avoided the discussion of philosophical problems; he admits and

desires such discussion provided it is confined to the educated who are

able to understand its bearing, and not brought before the multitude

who are thereby in danger of having their simple faith undermined. He

agrees with Ibn Bajja, however, as against Ibn Tufayl in disapproval

of ecstasy; such a thing may be, but it is too rare to need serious

consideration.

There are different classes of men who fall roughly into three groups.

The highest of these are those whose religious belief is based on

demonstration (_burhan_), the result of reasoning from syllogisms which

are _à priori_ certain; these are the men to whom the philosopher makes

his appeal. The lowest stratum contains those whose faith is based on

the authority of a teacher or on presumptions which cannot be argued

out and are not due to the exercise of pure reason; it is mischievous

to put “demonstration” or reason or controversy before people of this

type, for it can only cause them doubt and difficulty. Intermediate

between these two strata are those who have not attained the use of

pure reason--which, with Ibn Rushd, seems to be simply intuition--but

are capable of argument and controversy by means of which their faith

can be defended and proved; “demonstration” proper is not to be laid

before these, but it is right to enter into argument with them and to

assist them to rise above the level of those whose belief is based only

upon authority.

Most of all, Ibn Rushd opposed the teaching of the _mutakallimin_

or orthodox scholastic theologians, whom he regarded as subverting

the pure principles of the Aristotelian philosophy, and of these he

considered the worst to be al-Ghazali, “that renegade of philosophy.”

His leading controversial work is the _Destruction of the Destruction_

(Tahafat at-Tahafat), which he designed as a refutation of al-Ghazali’s

_Destruction of the Philosophers_.

But it was as a commentator on the text of Aristotle that he became

best known to subsequent generations amongst the Jews and the later

Latin scholastics; he was the great and final commentator. Strangely,

however, Ibn Rushd never perceived the importance of reading Aristotle

in the original; he had no knowledge of Greek, and gives no sign of

supposing that a study of the Greek text would at all assist a student

of the philosopher. The method of his commentaries is the time-honoured

form derived from the Syriac commentators: a sentence of the text is

given and the explanatory comments follow.

In main substance Ibn Rushd reproduces the psychology of Aristotle

as interpreted by al-Farabi and Ibn Sina, but with some important

modifications. In man is a passive and an active intellect: the active

intellect is roused to action by the operation of the Agent Intellect,

and thus becomes an acquired intellect; the individual intellects

are many, but the Agent Intellect is but one, though present in

each, just as the sun is one, but there are in action as many suns

as there are bodies which it illuminates. This is the form of the

Aristotelian doctrine as it had been transmitted through Ibn Sina; the

Agent Intellect is one, but it is as by emanation present in each, so

that the quickening power in each one is part of the universal Agent

Intellect. But Ibn Rushd differs from his predecessors in his treatment

of the passive intellect, the _`aql hayyulani_, which is the seat of

latent and potential faculties upon which the Agent operates. In all

the earlier systems this passive intellect was regarded as purely

individual and as operated on by the emanation of the universal Agent,

but Ibn Rushd regarded the passive intellect also as but a portion

of a universal soul and as individual only in so far as temporarily

occupying an individual body. Even the passive powers are part of a

universal force animating the whole of nature. This is the doctrine of

_pampsychism_, which exercised so strong an attraction for many of the

mediæval scholastics, and has its adherents at the present day; thus

James (_Principles of Psychology_, p. 346) says: “I confess that the

moment I become metaphysical and try to define the _more_, I find the

notion of some sort of an _anima mundi_ thinking in all of us to be a

more promising hypothesis, in spite of all its difficulties, than that

of a lot of absolutely individual souls.” Ibn Rushd regards Alexander

of Aphrodisias as mistaken in supposing that the passive intellect is

a mere disposition; it is in us, but belongs to something outside; it

is not engendered, it is incorruptible, and so in a sense resembles

the Agent Intellect. This doctrine is the very opposite to what is

commonly described as materialism, which represents the mind as merely

a form of energy produced by the activity of the neural functions. The

activity of brain and nerves, according to Ibn Rushd, are due to the

presence of an external force; not only, as Aristotle teaches, at least

according to Alexander Aph.’s interpretation, is the highest faculty of

the reason due to the operation of the external one Agent Intellect,

but the passive intellect on which this agent acts is itself part of

a great universal soul, which is the one source of all life and the

reservoir to which the soul returns when the transitory experience of

what we call life is finished.

Ibn Rushd’s views do not receive much attention or criticism

from Muslim scholars, but the Christian scholastics brought two

main arguments against this theory, one psychological, the other

theological. The psychological objection is that it is entirely

subversive of individuality: if the conscious life of each is only

part of the conscious life of a universal soul there can be no real

_ego_ in any one of us; but there is no fact to which consciousness

bears clearer witness than the reality and individuality of the _ego_.

This did not touch the possibility that the individual soul might be

drawn from a universal soul as its source, nor did it disprove that

the individual soul might be reabsorbed again in the universal soul,

but in so far as Ibn Rushd’s view represented the soul as throughout

a part of the universal soul it was argued that this is contrary to

experience, which makes it clear that in this present life the _ego_

is very distinctly individual. The theological argument was that Ibn

Rushd’s view denied the immortality of the soul, and so was contrary to

the Christian faith. This objection deals more specifically with the

reabsorption of the soul of the individual in the universal soul; such

cessation of separate and individual existence, it was argued, meant

that the soul as such no longer existed.

As we have already noted, Aristotle gives a rather narrow range to the

highest faculty of reason, confining its activity to the perception

of abstract ideas; “as to the things spoken of as abstract (the mind)

thinks of them as it would of the being snub-nosed, if by an effort of

thought it thinks of it _qua_ snub-nosed, not separately, but _qua_

hollow, without the flesh in which the hollowness is adherent: so

when it thinks of mathematical forms, it thinks of them as separated,

though they are not separated” (Aristot. _de anima._ iii. 7, 7-8).

Those who followed Alexander Aph. and the neo-Platonists took this

“abstract” in a very narrow sense, and in the Arabic commentators

these abstractions even become non-substantial beings, as it were

disembodied, or rather bodiless, spirits: “in quibusdam libris de

Arabico translatis substantiae separatae, quae nos angelos dicimus,

intelligentiae vocantur” (S. Thos. Aquin. _Quaest. Disp. de anima._

16). Can man know these _substantiae separatae_ by his natural

faculties? Ibn Rushd says he can: if otherwise nature has acted in

vain, for there would be an _intelligibile_ without an _intelligens_ to

understand it; but Aristotle has shewn (_Polit._ 1, 8, 12) that nature

does nothing in vain, so that if there be an _intelligibile_ there

must be an _intelligens_ capable of perceiving it. “The commentator

(i.e. Ibn Rushd) says in 2 Met. comm. i. (in fine) that if abstract

substances cannot be understood by us then nature has acted in vain,

because it made that which is by nature understandable in itself to

be not understood by anyone. But nothing is superfluous or in vain in

nature. Therefore immaterial substances can be understood by us.” (S.

Thos. Aquin. _Summa._ 1, 88.)

As the Agent Intellect enters into communication with relative being

it has to suffer the conditions of relativity, and so is not equally

efficient in all; it acts on sensible images as form acts on matter,

yet the Agent Intellect never becomes corruptible as that on which it

acts.

These are in outline the points in the teaching of Ibn Rushd, which

show the most marked differences from that of his predecessors,

and which afterwards provoked most controversy amongst the Latin

scholastics.

Ibn Rushd really ends the illustrious line of Arabic Aristotelians.

A few Aristotelian scholars followed in Spain, but with the decay of

the Muwahhid power these came to an end. Of those later scholars we

may mention Muhyi ad-Din b. `Arabi (d. 638) and `Abdu l-Haqq b. Sab`in

(d. 667). The former of these was primarily a Sufi, and shows a strong

inclination towards pantheism. `Abdu l-Haqq, the last of the Muwahhid

circle, was also a Sufi, but at the same time an accurate student of

Aristotle. In modern Islam there is no Aristotelian scholarship, save

only in logic, where Aristotle has always held his own.

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