mention Abiwardi (d. 1113), the poet; Ibn Al-Khayyat, who was born at
Damascus in 1058 and died in Persia in 1125; Al-Ghazi (b. 1049), who
composed elegies and panegyrics at Nizamiyya College, was a college mate
of Ghazali’s, and died in Khorasan; Al-Tarabalusi (b. 1080), a younger
contemporary. But the most famous poet of all was Al-Hariri (1054-1122),
whose “Assemblies” throw so much light on the manners and morals of this
period. Among the men at the Nizamiyya University were Al-Khatîb (b.
1030), the great philologist; and Ibn Al-Arabi, born at Seville in 1076,
who visited Bagdad to attend the teaching of Al-Ghazali. The greatest
of all the Shafiʾite doctors, Al-Ruyani, was also a contemporary of
Al-Ghazali. He taught at Nishapur and wrote the most voluminous book on
jurisprudence in existence, called “The Sea of Doctrine.” In 1108, just
as he had finished one of his lectures he was murdered by a fanatic of
the Assassin sect, who were then holding the castle of Alamut in the
mountains. We must also mention a schoolmate of Al-Ghazali, Al-Harrasi
(1058-1110), who studied at Nishapur under the Imam Al-Haramain, was
made his assistant, and then went to Bagdad, where he taught theology in
the Nizamiyya University for the rest of his life. Nor must we forget
Al-Baghawi, who wrote a famous commentary on the Koran, and other works
of theology (1122); Al-Raghib Al-Ispahani, who died in 1108, and wrote a
dictionary of the Koran, arranged in alphabetical order, called _Mufradat
alfaz Al-Koran_, with quotations from the traditions and from the poets;
he also wrote a treatise on morals, which Al-Ghazali always carried about
with him (_Kitab ad-dharia_), and a commentary on the Koran. Among the
early contemporaries of Al-Ghazali we must not forget to mention Ali bin
ʾUthman Al-Jullabi Al-Hujwiri, the author of the oldest Persian treatise
on Sufism extant. He was born in Ghazni, Afghanistan, and died in A.
D. 1062, when Al-Ghazali was fourteen years old. Al-Hujwiri travelled
far and wide through the Mohammedan Empire and his famous work _Kashf
al-Mahjub_ anticipates much of the teaching of Al-Ghazali, who must have
been familiar with this author. And to complete this already long list
of celebrities, we may mention Al-Maidani of Nishapur, who died in 1124,
having written a great work on Arabic proverbs; Al-Zamakhshari, born in
1074, who wrote a famous commentary on the Koran; Ibn Tumart, the noted
philosopher of the West who attended Al-Ghazali’s lectures at Nizamiyya;
and ash-Shahristani who wrote on the various religions and sects—the
standard work among all Moslems to-day on comparative religion. The
period was in many respects the golden age of Islamic literature, and
it is high praise indeed that, in the judgment of Moslem and Christian,
Al-Ghazali surpassed all his literary contemporaries, if not in style and
eloquence, at least in the scope and character of his writings—still more
by the enduring and outreaching influence of his life. The story of that
life and the character of his message we will now attempt to sketch for
the reader.
II
Birth and Education
“Ghazali is without doubt the most remarkable figure in all
Islam. His doctrine is the expression of his own personality.
He abandoned the attempt to understand this world. But the
religious problem he comprehended much more profoundly than
did the philosophers of his time. These were intellectual in
their methods, like their Greek predecessors, and consequently
regarded the doctrines of Religion as merely the products
of the conception or fancy or even caprice of the lawgiver.
According to them Religion was either blind obedience, or a
kind of knowledge which contained truth of an inferior order.
“On the other hand Ghazali represents Religion as the
experience of his inner Being. It is for him more than law and
more than Doctrine; it is the Soul’s experience.”
—_“Philosophy in Islam,” T. J. DeBoer._
II
BIRTH AND EDUCATION
As already stated, Al-Ghazali was born and educated in Khorasan, Persia,
and there also he spent the closing years of his life. Persia, as Huart
expresses it, possessed “an intangible force, the Aryan genius, the
powerful, imaginative, and creative mind of the great Indo-European
family, the artistic, philosophic, and intellectual brain which, from the
Abbasside period onward, so mightily affected Arab literature, enabling
it to develop in every quarter of the Caliph’s realms, and to produce the
enormous aggregate of works.” It was this Aryan genius which explains
much of the powerful influence of Al-Ghazali upon Moslem thought, and
the revival of that influence in our day when Islam is again facing
disintegrating forces. At the time of Al-Ghazali, Persian influence was
supreme. It pervaded everything. The Arabs had ceased to write. The
realms of poetry, theology, and science, were dominated by those of
Persian birth. All posts, administrative and legal, were held by men who
were not Arabs, and yet the language they used was that of the Koran, and
remained the sole literary language of the huge empire of the Caliphs.
“All races, Persians, Syrians, Berbers from Maghrib, were melted and
amalgamated in this mighty crucible.”
Al-Ghazali was a Persian by birth, an Aryan in his modes of thought,
a Semite in his religion and he became a cosmopolitan by travel and
education. His long residence in all the great centres of Islam of his
day brought him into close touch with men of every school of thought
and followers of all manners of religions and philosophies. When we
remember this, we have the key to his enormous literary productiveness.
His horizon stretched from Afghanistan to Spain, and from Kurdistan to
Southern Arabia. What happened outside the _Dar ul Islam_ in infidel
Europe was brought to the notice of all by the Crusades.
Men of learning had intercourse by correspondence with those of similar
tastes in every part of the Moslem world. We have records of letters
received by Al-Ghazali from Spain and Morocco as well as from Egypt,
Syria, and Palestine. Questions of jurisprudence, philosophy, and
theology were referred by Sultans to celebrated authorities for reply.
All this produced the cosmopolitan atmosphere we find in his works.
The poet Moore describes Al-Ghazali’s native land as
“... the delightful Province of the Sun,
The first of Persian lands he shines upon,
Where, all the loveliest children of his beam,
Flowerets and fruits blush over every stream,
And, fairest of all streams, the Murga roves
Among Merou’s bright palaces and groves.”
[Illustration: The East Gate, Damascus.]
Khorasan, indeed, signifies “the land of the sun,” and was one of the
four geographical divisions into which the ancient kingdom of the
Sassanians was divided. They were named according to the cardinal points
of the compass. After the Arab conquests the name was used both for
a definite province and also in a looser sense for the whole eastern
region of Persia. Even now the boundaries of the province are scarcely
determined. The total area is about 150,000 square miles, and the present
population not over 800,000. It was doubtless far more in Al-Ghazali’s
day.
Towards the north and southwest Khorasan is mountainous. In the east the
country is hilly, but between the mountain ranges there extend broad
tracts of waste land. By far the most extensive of these saline wastes
is the Dasht-i-Kabir, or Great Salt Desert of Khorasan. Throughout the
province, and especially near Tus, the arid plains and the grassy valleys
have been engaged in a perpetual struggle for the mastery. The shifting
sands have already absorbed some towns and villages. There are scarcely
any rivers, and the few streams are brackish and intermittent, losing
themselves in the great salt desert. The salt brought down by the rivers
is deposited in the marshes. The fierce summer heat dries these up until
the winter floods occur again. This process being repeated for ages, in
the course of time the whole stretch of soil over which the marsh extends
has become incrusted with salt.
Travellers and students of climate seem to be agreed that the country
offers unmistakable evidence of desiccation. Ruins of cities and
villages are incredibly numerous and point to a larger population and
better climate and irrigation in the days past. It would not be just to
attribute the decay of Persia entirely to the devastations of war and the
misrule of Islam.
“A comparison of the four provinces of Khorasan, Azerbaijan, Kirman,
and Seyistan is instructive,” says Ellsworth Huntington.[17] Khorasan
“has suffered from war more severely than has any other province of
Persia. Its northern portion, where the rainfall is heaviest, and where
the greatest amount of fighting has taken place, is to-day one of the
most prosperous portions of Persia. It contains numerous ruins, but they
are by no means such impressive features as are those farther south.
The southern and drier part of the province is full of ruins, and has
suffered great depopulation. Azerbaijan, which ... has suffered from
war more than any province except Khorasan, is the most prosperous and
thickly settled part of Persia. The relative abundance of its water
supply renders its future hopeful. Seyistan has suffered from wars, but
less severely than the two preceding provinces. Nevertheless, it has been
depopulated to a far greater extent. Its extreme aridity renders recovery
well-nigh impossible, except along the Helmund. Kirman lies so remote
behind its barriers of desert and mountains that it has suffered from war
much less than any of the three other provinces. Yet its ruined cities
and its appearance of hopeless depopulation are almost as impressive as
those of Seyistan. If war and misgovernment are the cause of the decay
of Persia, it is remarkable that the two provinces which have suffered
most from war, and not less from misgovernment, should now be the most
prosperous and least depopulated; while the two which have suffered less
from war and no more from misgovernment have been fearfully, and, it
would seem, irreparably depopulated.”
The surface of the province of Khorasan to-day consists mainly of
highlands, the saline deserts, and the fruitful well-watered upland
valleys. In these fruitful regions rice, cotton, saffron, but especially
melons and other fruits, are raised in profusion. Other products are
manna, gum, asafœtida for export to India, and turquois. The chief
manufactures have always been sabres, pottery, carpets, woolen and cotton
goods.
The town of Mashad, the present capital of Khorasan, has supplanted the
older city and district of Tus, which was an ancient capital. The ruins
of this city lie fifteen miles to the northwest. As early as the tenth
century we have references to the birthplace of Al-Ghazali. Thus Misʾar
Muhalhil (about 941 A. D.) writes: “Tus is made up of the union of four
towns, two of which are large and the other two of minor importance; its
area is a square mile. It has beautiful monuments that date from the
time of Islam, such as the house of Hamid, son of Kahtabah, the tomb of
Ali, son of Musa, and that of Rashid in the environs (lit. gardens) of
the town.” Istakhri (951 A. D.), writing ten years later, speaks of Tus
as a dependency with four large towns or settlements. He says: “Taking
Tus as a dependency of the province of Nishapur, its towns are Radkan,
Tabaran, Bazdghur, and Naukan, in which (latter) is the tomb of Ali,
son of Musa ar-Riza (may the peace of God be upon him), and the tomb
of Haroun ar-Rashîd.... The tomb of Ar-Riza is about one-quarter of a
_farsakh_ distant towards the village called Sanabadh.” The best summary
of the history of Tus and description of its present condition is given
by Professor A. V. Williams Jackson in his most interesting book, “From
Constantinople to the Home of Omar Khayyam.” He tells us that the name
of the town is as old as the half-legendary warrior Tusa of the Avesta,
who gave battle against Turan. Alexander the Great passed through it in
pursuit of Bessus, the slayer of the last Darius. During the Zoroastrian
sway, the city of Tus shared with Nishapur the distinction of being the
seat of a Nestorian Christian bishop. When the Arab conquest of Persia
came Tus fell before the invaders and it became a great Moslem centre,
famous especially as the home of the poet Firdausi, who was born there
about 935 A. D. and died 1025 A. D.
Professor Jackson thus describes the present ruined condition of the
city: “The crumbling walls of the dead city were once broad and lofty
ramparts of clay and rubble, much like those already mentioned at Bustam
and Rei, but they had become much flattened with the lapse of ages,
although traces of their towers were still to be seen, while their
outline showed the contour of the town, which must have formed a very
irregular quadrilateral, following roughly the points of the compass....
The scene, as we saw it, presented a strange paradox of the destructive
effects of the hand of man, and the eternal power of nature to rise
and bloom again. The devastating inroads of the Ghuzz hordes and the
Mongol armies, aided by earthquakes, had indeed laid mighty Tus in
ruins: but its dust still contains the resurrection seed of flowers and
grain, bringing life anew in the midst of death. Acres of barley and
fields of thick clover spread their rich green on all sides, in contrast
with stretches of arid waste that told only too well the story of ruin
wrought in the past.” Professor Jackson goes on to say: “It is clear
that the ruined site of Tus we have been examining, with the Rudbar
and Rizan Gates, formed part of the borough of Tabaran, an important
section of the town in Firdausi’s day, when the city covered a large
area comprising several thickly populated centres, as we know from the
Oriental geographers of the tenth century, or the period covering the
better portion of the poet’s life. It was in Tabaran that Al-Ghazali was
buried, and there he must have had his home during the closing years of
his life.”[18]
Religious disputation must have been the very atmosphere of Tus.
Christians were numerous and the Moslem _Shiahs_ were almost as strong
as the orthodox. Some of their most celebrated writers and scholars, for
example Abu Jaʾfar Muhammed, were born at Tus; and Ibn Abi Hatim, one
of the earliest and most important critics of the science of Tradition,
died at Tus in 939. In spite of its learned men, however, Tus did not
have a high reputation, as we know from the following anecdote related
of Ibn-Habbariyya. He was asked by an enemy of Nizam Al-Mulk to compose
a satire on this ruler. “How can I attack a man to whose kindness I owe
everything I see in my house?” asked the poet. However, on being pressed,
he penned these lines:
“What wonder is it that Nizam Al-Mulk should rule,
And that Fate should be on his side?
Fortune is like the water-wheel
Which raises water from the well—
None but _oxen_ can turn it!”
When the vizier was informed of this attack upon him, he merely remarked
that the poet had simply intended to allude to his origin—he came from
Tus in Khorasan, and, according to a popular saying, all the men of Tus
were oxen (one would say asses, nowadays).
“The people of Khorasan,” says Chenery, “were renowned for their
stinginess, and it is not surprising that the inhabitants of the mother
town were said to excel in it all the rest of the world. Witness the
story, related in Saʾadi’s Gulistan, if I remember well, of the merchant
of Merv, who would not allow his son to eat cheese, but made him rub his
bread against the glass cover under which it was kept.”
To prove the stupidity of the Khorasanis to-day, Major P. M. Sykes[19]
tells a story of three Persians who met and were all praising their own
provinces. The Kermani said, “Kerman produces fruit of seven colours.”
The Shirazi continued, “The waters of Ruknabad issue from the very rock.”
But the poor Khorasani could only say, “From Khorasan come all the fools
like myself.”
Yet Khorasan, in the words of Hujwiri, was that land “where the shadow
of God’s favour rested,” as regards the teaching of the Mystics. He
mentions nine leading Sufis who belong to Khorasan, and taught there
before Al-Ghazali’s day, all of them distinguished for the “sublimity of
their aspiration, the eloquence of their discourse, and the sagacity of
their intelligence.” He then goes on to say: “It would be difficult to
mention all the sheikhs of Khorasan. I have met three hundred in that
province alone who had such mystical endowments that a single man of them
would have been enough for the whole world. This is due to the fact that
the sun of love and the fortune of the Sufi Path is in the ascendant in
Khorasan.”[20]
In view of such statements it is clear that Al-Ghazali owed much to his
environment as well as to his own genius. He did not originate mysticism,
but used what his predecessors had already written on the subject. The
very chapter headings of _Kashf al-Mahjub_ are the same as those found in
Al-Ghazali’s books on mysticism.
According to Murtadha (who follows As-Subqi), Al-Ghazali’s full name was
Abu Hamid Mohammed bin Mohammed bin Mohammed at-Tusi al-Ghazali, and he
was born at Tus in the year of the Hegira 450 (A. D. 1058). In regard
to his name, it is related that others before him had the peculiarity
of the family name three times repeated. “Ibn-Kutaibah states that
Abu’l-Bakhtari’s name was Wahb b. Wahb b. Wahb, the same name thrice in
one continuation; and that similar to this among the names of the Persian
kings was that of Bahram b. Bahram b. Bahram; among the Talibis (the
descendants of Abu-Talib) that of Hasan b. Hasan b. Hasan, and among
the Ghassan that of al-Harith the junior b. al-Harith and the senior b.
al-Harith.”[21]
Concerning the spelling of his name, whether it should be spelled with
two z’s or with one, there has been long and strong dispute. Professor
Macdonald thinks the name should be spelt _Ghazzali_ and has given
his arguments in a special essay.[22] This spelling is given by Ibn
Khallikan in his biographical dictionary (d. A. D. 1282). But apparently,
according to the authority of As-Samʾani, the name is derived from
Ghazala, a village near Tus, and is not a professional noun, such as
are common among patronymics. Abu Saʾd ʾAbd al-Karim As-Samʾani was
born only two years after Al-Ghazali’s death, and wrote a famous book
of patronymics in eight volumes. He was, therefore, an expert in names
and genealogies, and we may well accept his authority for the spelling
of the name of the great _imam_, who was his own countryman. The sheikhs
of the Azhar University in Cairo _all_ follow this authority and write
_Al-Ghazali_.[23]
Some say that there had already been two scholars in the family, one
an elder Al-Ghazali, at whose tomb in the cemetery of Tus prayer was
answered. This was a paternal uncle of Ghazali’s father. The other was
a son of the same. The story is told, apparently on the authority of
Ghazali himself, that at the time of his father’s death he committed
his two boys, Mohammed and Ahmed, to the care of a trusted Sufi friend
for their education. He himself seems to have had unfulfilled desires
in regard to his own education and was determined that his boys should
have a better opportunity. So he left in trust what money he had for
the purpose with this friend, who proved faithful and taught and cared
for them until the money was all gone. Then he advised them to go to a
_madrasa_, where, according to Moslem custom, they would receive food for
their need and shelter. Ghazali used to tell the story of this experience
in after life, and would add the remark, “We became students for the sake
of something else than God, but _He_ was unwilling that it should be for
the sake of anything but Himself.” This instance doubtless throws light
on the motives for his studies and his great diligence. At the outset he
was in search rather of reputation and wealth through learning than of
piety.[24]
Of Al-Ghazali’s home life at Tus, and of his own family life afterwards,
we know next to nothing. His name Abu Hamid was doubtless given him
much later, and would seem to indicate that he had a son of that name
who probably died in infancy. We know that he married before he was
twenty and that at least three daughters survived him. Of his younger
brother, however, who died fifteen years after he did (1126), and was
buried at Kazvin, we know the following: He succeeded Al-Ghazali in the
professorial chair at the Nizamiyya School. Like him, he was a mystic
and preached his views with great eloquence as well as with a prolific
pen. We are told that he was a man of splendid appearance, and had the
gift of healing. So fond was he of public preaching that he neglected his
judicial studies. He wrote an abridgement of his brother’s great work,
and also a celebrated treatise on mysticism called _Minhaj al-albab_
(Path for Hearts), in which he deals with the advantages of poverty, and
advocates the wearing of a special garb by the dervishes. Another of his
books was in defense of music, called _Bawariq al-ilma_; but this was
considered frivolous by strict Moslems, although the Sufis used music to
produce the state of ecstasy.
Of Al-Ghazali’s mother we know nothing beyond the fact that she survived
her husband and lived to see both her sons famous at Bagdad, whither
apparently she accompanied or followed them. An interesting story is
told of how, when Abu Hamid was at the height of his fame at Bagdad, his
brother Ahmed not merely failed to show him proper respect, but acted
in such a manner as to discredit him in the eyes of the people. The
full account is worth giving. “He had a brother called Ahmed, surnamed
Jamal-ud-Din, or, as others say, Zain-ud-Din, who, notwithstanding the
high rank which his brother held, would not take part with him in the
prayers (_i. e._, would not recognize him as a man fitted to lead the
public prayers), even while thousands of the commonalty and nobility
arranged themselves in ranks behind him. So he complained to his mother
what he experienced at his brother’s hands, (saying) that it almost led
to people doubting him, seeing that his brother was celebrated for his
good conduct and piety, and he asked his mother to order him (Ahmed) to
treat him as other people did. He complained about this repeatedly, and
pressed his demand. His mother urged him (Ahmed) time and again to agree
to this, and he agreed on condition that he stand apart from the ranks.
The Imam accepted this condition, and when one of the appointed times of
prayer arrived, the Imam went to the Mosque, and the people followed him,
till, when the Imam began the prayer, and the people began it after him,
Jamal-ud-Din followed him in the prayer in the distance. And while they
were praying Jamal-ud-Din suddenly interrupted him. So this trial was
worse than the first; and when he was asked the reason (of his conduct)
he replied that it was impossible for him to take as his pattern an Imam
whose heart was full of blood, indicating by this expression the vileness
of one who took a share in the work of worldly men of learning.”[25]
Al-Ghazali must have begun his education at a very early age, and
his studies at Tus met with such success that he went to the larger
educational centre of Jurjan before the age of twenty, a distance of over
one hundred miles, and no inconsiderable journey at that time.
In Al-Ghazali’s autobiography we have a glimpse of how he himself
conceived the growth of a child in wisdom and stature. “The first sense
revealed to man,” he says, “is touch, by means of which he perceives a
certain group of qualities—heat, cold, moist, dry. The sense of touch
does not perceive colours and forms, which are for it as though they did
not exist. Next comes the sense of sight, which makes him acquainted
with colours and forms; that is to say, with that which occupies the
highest rank in the world of sensation. The sense of hearing succeeds,
and then the senses of smell and taste. When the human being can
elevate himself above the world of sense, towards the age of seven, he
receives the faculty of discrimination; he enters then upon a new phase
of existence and can experience, thanks to this faculty, impressions,
superior to those of the senses, which do not occur in the sphere of
sensation.”
Al-Ghazali must have been an early riser from his youth. In his
“Beginner’s Guide to Religion and Morals” (Al Badayet) he writes: “When
you awaken from sleep, endeavour to arise before early dawn, and may the
first thing that enters your heart and your tongue be the remembrance of
God Most High, saying, ‘Thanks be to God who hath given us life after the
death of sleep. To Him do we return. He hath awakened us and awakened all
nature. The greatness and the power belong to God; the majesty and the
dominion to the Lord of the worlds. He hath awakened us to the religion
of Islam and the testimony of His unity, and the religion of His Prophet
Mohammed and the sect of our father Abraham, who was a _Hanif_ and a
Moslem, and not a polytheist. O God, I ask Thee that Thou wouldst this
day send me all good and deliver me from all evil. By Thee, O God, do
we arise from sleep, and by Thee do we reach the even-tide. In Thee
do we live and die and to Thee do we return.’ And when you put on your
garments, remember that God desires you to cover your nakedness with them
and to show forth God’s beauty to those around you.”
In another place in the same little volume he again inculcates early
rising by saying: “Know that the night and the day consist of twenty-four
hours. Let therefore your sleep during the night and day be not more than
eight hours; for it will suffice you to think after you have lived sixty
years that you have lost twenty years of it solely in sleep.”