become subjects of argument or contest in Mohammed's lifetime, or such as
were particularly suggested by that antithesis of paganism and revelation,
which had determined Mohammed's prophetical career. Gambling and wine were
forbidden, the latter after some hesitation between the inculcation of
temperance and that of abstinence. Usury, taken in the sense of requiring
any interest at all upon loans, was also forbidden. All tribal feuds with
their consequences had henceforward to be considered as non-existent, and
retaliation, provided that the offended party would not agree to accept
compensation, was put under the control of the head of the community.
Polygamy and intercourse of master and female slave were restricted; the
obligations arising from blood-relationship or ownership were regulated.
These points suffice to remind us of the nature of the Qorânic regulations.
Reference to certain subjects in this revealed law while others were
ignored, did not depend on their respective importance to the life of the
community, but rather on what happened to have been suggested by the events
in Mohammed's lifetime. For Mohammed knew too well how little qualified he
was for legislative work to undertake it unless absolutely necessary.
This rough sketch of what Islâm meant when it set out to conquer the world,
is not very likely to create the impression that its incredibly rapid
extension was due to its superiority over the forms of civilization which
it supplanted. Lammens's assertion, that Islâm was the Jewish religion
simplified according to Arabic wants and amplified by some Christian and
Arabic traditions, contains a great deal of truth, if only we recognize the
central importance for Mohammed's vocation and preaching of the Christian
doctrine of Resurrection and judgment. This explains the large number of
weak points that the book of Mohammed's revelations, written down by his
first followers, offered to Jewish and Christian polemics. It was easy for
the theologians of those religions to point out numberless mistakes in the
work of the illiterate Arabian prophet, especially where he maintained that
he was repeating and confirming the contents of their Bible. The Qorânic
revelations about Allah's intercourse with men, taken from apocryphal
sources, from profane legends like that of Alexander the Great, sometimes
even created by Mohammed's own fancy--such as the story of the prophet
Sâlih, said to have lived in the north of Arabia, and that of the prophet
Hûd, supposed to have lived in the south; all this could not but give them
the impression of a clumsy caricature of true tradition. The principal
doctrines of Synagogue and Church had apparently been misunderstood, or
they were simply denied as corruptions.
The conversion to Islâm, within a hundred years, of such nations as the
Egyptian, the Syrian, and the Persian, can hardly be attributed to anything
but the latent talents, the formerly suppressed energy of the Arabian race
having found a favourable soil for its development; talents and energy,
however, not of a missionary kind. If Islâm is said to have been from its
beginning down to the present day, a missionary religion,[1] then "mission"
is to be taken here in a quite peculiar sense, and special attention must
be given to the preparation of the missionary field by the Moslim armies,
related by history and considered as most important by the Mohammedans
themselves.
[Footnote 1: With extraordinary talent this thesis has been defended by
Professor T.W. Arnold in the above quoted work, _The Preaching of Islam_,
which fully deserves the attention also of those who do not agree with the
writer's argument. Among the many objections that may be raised against
Prof. Arnold's conclusion, we point to the undeniable fact, that the Moslim
scholars of all ages hardly speak of "mission" at all, and always treat the
extension of the true faith by holy war as one of the principal duties of
the Moslim community.]
Certainly, the nations conquered by the Arabs under the first khalîfs were
not obliged to choose between living as Moslims or dying as unbelievers.
The conquerors treated them as Mohammed had treated Jews and Christians in
Arabia towards the end of his life, and only exacted from them submission
to Moslim authority. They were allowed to adhere to their religion,
provided they helped with their taxes to fill the Moslim exchequer. This
rule was even extended to such religions as that of the Parsîs, although
they could not be considered as belonging to the "People of Scripture"
expressly recognized in the Qorân. But the social condition of these
subjects was gradually made so oppressive by the Mohammedan masters, that
rapid conversions in masses were a natural consequence; the more natural
because among the conquered nations intellectual culture was restricted to
a small circle, so that after the conquest their spiritual leaders lacked
freedom of movement. Besides, practically very little was required from the
new converts, so that it was very tempting to take the step that led to
full citizenship.
No, those who in a short time subjected millions of non-Arabs to the state
founded by Mohammed, and thus prepared their conversion, were no apostles.
They were generals whose strategic talents would have remained hidden but
for Mohammed, political geniuses, especially from Mecca and Taif, who,
before Islâm, would have excelled only in the organization of commercial
operations or in establishing harmony between hostile families. Now they
proved capable of uniting the Arabs commanded by Allah, a unity still many
a time endangered during the first century by the old party spirit; and of
devising a division of labour between the rulers and the conquered which
made it possible for them to control the function of complicated machines
of state without any technical knowledge.
Moreover, several circumstances favoured their work; both the large realms
which extended north of Arabia, were in a state of political decline;
the Christians inhabiting the provinces that were to be conquered first,
belonged, for the larger part, to heretical sects and were treated by the
orthodox Byzantines in such a way that other masters, if tolerant, might be
welcome. The Arabian armies consisted of hardened Bedouins with few wants,
whose longing for the treasures of the civilized world made them more ready
to endure the pressure of a discipline hitherto unknown to them.
The use that the leaders made of the occasion commands our admiration;
although their plan was formed in the course and under the influence of
generally unforeseen events. Circumstances had changed Mohammed the Prophet
into Mohammed the Conqueror; and the leaders, who continued the conqueror's
work, though not driven by fanaticism or religious zeal, still prepared the
conversion of millions of men to Islâm.
It was only natural that the new masters adopted, with certain
modifications, the administrative and fiscal systems of the conquered
countries. For similar reasons Islâm had to complete its spiritual store
from the well-ordered wealth of that of its new adherents. Recent research
shows most clearly, that Islâm, in after times so sharply opposed to other
religions and so strongly armed against foreign influence, in the first
century borrowed freely and simply from the "People of Scripture" whatever
was not evidently in contradiction to the Qorân. This was to be expected;
had not Mohammed from the very beginning referred to the "people of the
Book" as "those who know"? When painful experience induced him afterwards
to accuse them of corruption of their Scriptures, this attitude
necessitated a certain criticism but not rejection of their tradition.
The ritual, only provisionally regulated and continually liable to change
according to prophetic inspiration in Mohammed's lifetime, required
unalterable rules after his death. Recent studies[1] have shown in an
astounding way, that the Jewish ritual, together with the religious rites
of the Christians, strongly influenced the definite shape given to that of
Islâm, while indirect influence of the Parsî religion is at least probable.
[Footnote 1: The studies of Professors C.H. Becker, E. Mittwoch, and
A.J. Wensinck, especially taken in connection with older ones of Ignaz
Goldziher, have thrown much light upon this subject.]
So much for the rites of public worship and the ritual purity they require.
The method of fasting seems to follow the Jewish model, whereas the period
of obligatory fasting depends on the Christian usage.
Mohammed's fragmentary and unsystematic accounts of sacred history were
freely drawn from Jewish and Christian sources and covered the whole period
from the creation of the world until the first centuries of the Christian
era. Of course, features shocking to the Moslim mind were dropped and the
whole adapted to the monotonous conception of the Qorân. With ever greater
boldness the story of Mohammed's own life was exalted to the sphere of
the supernatural; here the Gospel served as example. Though Mohammed had
repeatedly declared himself to be an ordinary man chosen by Allah as the
organ of His revelation, and whose only miracle was the Qorân, posterity
ascribed to him a whole series of wonders, evidently invented in emulation
of the wonders of Christ. The reason for this seems to have been the idea
that none of the older prophets, not even Jesus, of whom the Qorân tells
the greatest wonders, could have worked a miracle without Mohammed, the
Seal of the prophets, having rivalled or surpassed him in this respect.
Only Jesus was the Messiah; but this title did not exceed in value
different titles of other prophets, and Mohammed's special epithets were
of a higher order. A relative sinlessness Mohammed shared with Jesus; the
acceptance of this doctrine, contradictory to the original spirit of the
Qorân, had moreover a dogmatic motive: it was considered indispensable
to raise the text of the Qorân above all suspicion of corruption, which
suspicion would not be excluded if the organ of the Revelation were
fallible.
This period of naively adopting institutions, doctrines, and traditions was
soon followed by an awakening to the consciousness that Islâm could not
well absorb any more of such foreign elements without endangering its
independent character. Then a sorting began; and the assimilation of the
vast amount of borrowed matter, that had already become an integral part of
Islâm, was completed by submitting the whole to a peculiar treatment. It
was carefully divested of all marks of origin and labelled _hadîth_,[1]
so that henceforth it was regarded as emanations from the wisdom of the
Arabian Prophet, for which his followers owed no thanks to foreigners.
[Footnote 1: _Hadîth_, the Arabic word for record, story, has assumed
the technical meaning of "tradition" concerning the words and deeds of
Mohammed. It is used as well in the sense of a single record of this sort
as in that of the whole body of sacred traditions.]
At first, it was only at Medina that some pious people occupied themselves
with registering, putting in order, and systematizing the spiritual
property of Islâm; afterwards similar circles were formed in other centres,
such as Mecca, Kufa, Basra, Misr (Cairo), and elsewhere. At the outset
the collection of divine sayings, the Qorân, was the only guide, the only
source of decisive decrees, the only touchstone of what was true or false,
allowed or forbidden. Reluctantly, but decidedly at last, it was conceded
that the foundations laid by Mohammed for the life of his community were
by no means all to be found in the Holy Book; rather, that Mohammed's
revelations without his explanation and practice would have remained an
enigma. It was understood now that the rules and laws of Islâm were founded
on God's word and on the Sunnah, _i.e._, the "way" pointed out by the
Prophet's word and example. Thus it had been from the moment that Allah had
caused His light to shine over Arabia, and thus it must remain, if human
error was not to corrupt Islâm.
At the moment when this conservative instinct began to assert itself among
the spiritual leaders, so much foreign matter had already been incorporated
into Islâm, that the theory of the sufficiency of Qorân and Sunnah could
not have been maintained without the labelling operation which we have
alluded to. So it was assumed that as surely as Mohammed must have
surpassed his predecessors in perfection and in wonders, so surely must
all the principles and precepts necessary for his community have been
formulated by him. Thus, by a gigantic web of fiction, he became after his
death the organ of opinions, ideas, and interests, whose lawfulness was
recognized by every influential section of the Faithful. All that could not
be identified as part of the Prophet's Sunnah, received no recognition; on
the other hand, all that was accepted had, somehow, to be incorporated into
the Sunnah.
It became a fundamental dogma of Islâm, that the Sunnah was the
indispensable completion of the Qorân, and that both together formed the
source of Mohammedan law and doctrine; so much so that every party assumed
the name of "People of the Sunnah" to express its pretension to orthodoxy.
The _contents_ of the Sunnah, however, was the subject of a great deal of
controversy; so that it came to be considered necessary to make the Prophet
pronounce his authoritative judgment on this difference of opinion. He
was said to have called it a proof of God's special mercy, that within
reasonable limits difference of opinion was allowed in his community. Of
that privilege Mohammedans have always amply availed themselves.
When the difference touched on political questions, especially on the
succession of the Prophet in the government of the community, schism was
the inevitable consequence. Thus arose the party strifes of the first
century, which led to the establishment of the sects of the Shî'ites and
the Khârijites, separate communities, severed from the great whole, that
led their own lives, and therefore followed paths different from those of
the majority in matters of doctrine and law as well as in politics. The
sharpness of the political antithesis served to accentuate the importance
of the other differences in such cases and to debar their acceptance as the
legal consequence of the difference of opinion that God's mercy allowed.
That the political factor was indeed the great motive of separation, is
clearly shown in our own day, now that one Mohammedan state after the other
sees its political independence disappearing and efforts are being made
from all sides to re-establish the unity of the Mohammedan world by
stimulating the feeling of religious brotherhood. Among the most cultivated
Moslims of different countries an earnest endeavour is gaining ground to
admit Shî'ites, Khârijites, and others, formerly abused as heretics, into
the great community, now threatened by common foes, and to regard their
special tenets in the same way as the differences existing between the four
law schools: Hanafites, Mâlikites, Shâfi'ites and Hanbalites, which for
centuries have been considered equally orthodox.
Although the differences that divide these schools at first caused great
excitement and gave rise to violent discussions, the strong catholic
instinct of Islâm always knew how to prevent schism. Each new generation
either found the golden mean between the extremes which had divided the
preceding one, or it recognized the right of both opinions.
Though the dogmatic differences were not necessarily so dangerous to
unity as were political ones, yet they were more apt to cause schism than
discussions about the law. It was essential to put an end to dissension
concerning the theological roots of the whole system of Islâm. Mohammed had
never expressed any truth in dogmatic form; all systematic thinking was
foreign to his nature. It was again the non-Arabic Moslims, especially
those of Christian origin, who suggested such doctrinal questions. At first
they met with a vehement opposition that condemned all dogmatic discussion
as a novelty of the Devil. In the long run, however, the contest of the
conservatives against specially objectionable features of the dogmatists'
discussions forced them to borrow arms from the dogmatic arsenal. Hence a
method with a peculiar terminology came in vogue, to which even the boldest
imagination could not ascribe any connection with the Sunnah of Mohammed.
Yet some traditions ventured to put prophetic warnings on Mohammed's lips
against dogmatic innovations that were sure to arise, and to make him
pronounce the names of a couple of future sects. But no one dared to make
the Prophet preach an orthodox system of dogmatics resulting from the
controversies of several centuries, all the terms of which were foreign to
the Arabic speech of Mohammed's time.
Indeed, all the subjects which had given rise to dogmatic controversy
in the Christian Church, except some too specifically Christian, were
discussed by the _mutakallims_, the dogmatists of Islâm. Free will or
predestination; God omnipotent, or first of all just and holy; God's word
created by Him, or sharing His eternity; God one in this sense, that His
being admitted of no plurality of qualities, or possessed of qualities,
which in all eternity are inherent in His being; in the world to come only
bliss and doom, or also an intermediate state for the neutral. We might
continue the enumeration and always show to the Christian church-historian
or theologian old acquaintances in Moslim garb. That is why Maracci and
Reland could understand Jews and Christians yielding to the temptation
of joining Islâm, and that also explains why Catholic and Protestant
dogmatists could accuse each other of Crypto-mohammedanism.
Not until the beginning of the tenth century A.D. did the orthodox
Mohammedan dogma begin to emerge from the clash of opinions into its
definite shape. The Mu'tazilites had advocated man's free will; had given
prominence to justice and holiness in their conception of God, had denied
distinct qualities in God and the eternity of God's Word; had accepted a
place for the neutral between Paradise and Hell; and for some time the
favour of the powers in authority seemed to assure the victory of their
system. Al-Ash'arî contradicted all these points, and his system has in the
end been adopted by the great majority. The Mu'tazilite doctrines for a
long time still enthralled many minds, but they ended by taking refuge
in the political heresy of Shî'itism. In the most conservative circles,
opponents to all speculation were never wanting; but they were obliged
unconsciously to make large concessions to systematic thought; for in the
Moslim world as elsewhere religious belief without dogma had become as
impossible as breathing is without air.
Thus, in Islâm, a whole system, which could not even pretend to draw its
authority from the Sunnah, had come to be accepted. It was not difficult
to justify this deviation from the orthodox abhorrence against novelties.
Islâm has always looked at the world in a pessimistic way, a view expressed
in numberless prophetic sayings. The world is bad and will become worse and
worse. Religion and morality will have to wage an ever more hopeless war
against unbelief, against heresy and ungodly ways of living. While this
is surely no reason for entering into any compromise with doctrines which
depart but a hair's breadth from Qorân and Sunnah, it necessitates methods
of defence against heresy as unknown in Mohammed's time as heresy itself.
"Necessity knows no law" is a principle fully accepted in Islam; and heresy
is an enemy of the faith that can only be defeated with dialectic weapons.
So the religious truths preached by Mohammed have not been altered in
any way; but under the stress of necessity they have been clad in modern
armour, which has somewhat changed their aspect.
Moreover, Islâm has a theory, which alone is sufficient to justify the
whole later development of doctrine as well as of law. This theory,
whose importance for the system can hardly be overestimated, and which,
nevertheless, has until very recent times constantly been overlooked by
Western students of Islâm, finds its classical expression in the following
words, put into the mouth of Mohammed: "My community will never agree in an
error." In terms more familiar to us, this means that the Mohammedan Church
taken as a whole is infallible; that all the decisions on matters practical
or theoretical, on which it is agreed, are binding upon its members.
Nowhere else is the catholic instinct of Islâm more clearly expressed.
A faithful Mohammedan student, after having struggled through a handbook of
law, may be vexed by a doubt as to whether these endless casuistic precepts
have been rightly deduced from the Qorân and the Sacred Tradition. His
doubt, however, will at once be silenced, if he bears in mind that Allah
speaks more plainly to him by this infallible Agreement (_Ijmâ'_) of the
Community than through Qorân and Tradition; nay, that the contents of both
those sacred sources, without this perfect intermediary, would be to a
great extent unintelligible to him. Even the differences between the
schools of law may be based on this theory of the Ijmâ'; for, does not the
infallible Agreement of the Community teach us that a certain diversity
of opinion is a merciful gift of God? It was through the Agreement that
dogmatic speculations as well as minute discussions about points of law
became legitimate. The stamp of Ijmâ' was essential to every rule of faith
and life, to all manners and customs.
All sorts of religious ideas and practices, which could not possibly be
deduced from Mohammed's message, entered the Moslim world by the permission
of Ijmâ'. Here we need think only of mysticism and of the cult of saints.
Some passages of the Qorân may perhaps be interpreted in such a way that we
hear the subtler strings of religious emotion vibrating in them. The chief
impression that Mohammed's Allah makes before the Hijrah is that of awful
majesty, at which men tremble from afar; they fear His punishment, dare
hardly be sure of His reward, and hope much from His mercy. This impression
is a lasting one; but, after the Hijrah, Allah is also heard quietly
reasoning with His obedient servants, giving them advice and commands,
which they have to follow in order to frustrate all resistance to His
authority and to deserve His satisfaction. He is always the Lord, the King
of the world, who speaks to His humble servants. But the lamp which Allah
had caused Mohammed to hold up to guide mankind with its light, was raised
higher and higher after the Prophet's death, in order to shed its light
over an ever increasing part of humanity. This was not possible, however,
without its reservoir being replenished with all the different kinds of oil
that had from time immemorial given light to those different nations. The
oil of mysticism came from Christian circles, and its Neo-Platonic origin
was quite unmistakable; Persia and India also contributed to it. There were
those who, by asceticism, by different methods of mortifying the flesh,
liberated the spirit that it might rise and become united with the origin
of all being; to such an extent, that with some the profession of faith
was reduced to the blasphemous exclamation: "I am Allah." Others tried to
become free from the sphere of the material and the temporal by certain
methods of thought, combined or not combined with asceticism. Here the
necessity of guidance was felt, and congregations came into existence,
whose purpose it was to permit large groups of people under the leadership
of their sheikhs, to participate simultaneously in the mystic union. The
influence which spread most widely was that of leaders like Ghazâlî, the
Father of the later Mohammedan Church, who recommended moral purification
of the soul as the only way by which men should come nearer to God. His
mysticism wished to avoid the danger of pantheism, to which so many others
were led by their contemplations, and which so often engendered disregard
of the revealed law, or even of morality. Some wanted to pass over the gap
between the Creator and the created along a bridge of contemplation; and
so, driven by the fire of sublime passion, precipitate themselves towards
the object of their love, in a kind of rapture, which poets compare with
intoxication. The evil world said that the impossibility to accomplish this
heavenly union often induced those people to imitate it for the time being
with the earthly means of wine and the indulgence in sensual love.