that his studies at Tus, and afterwards at Jurjan, apparently included
not only religious science but also a thorough knowledge of Persian
and Arabic. Of his religious studies we will speak later. He himself
tells us that the philosophical sciences taught included “mathematics,
logic, physics, metaphysics, politics, and moral philosophy.” And
although he does not speak in his Confessions of his earliest studies,
what he says in regard to mathematics throws a flood of light on his
youthful scepticism. He says, “Mathematics comprises the knowledge of
calculation, geometry, and cosmography: it has no connection with the
religious sciences, and proves nothing for or against religion; it rests
on a foundation of proofs which, once known and understood, cannot be
refuted. Mathematics tend, however, to produce two bad results. The first
is this: Whoever studies this science admires the subtlety and clearness
of its proofs. His confidence in philosophy increases, and he thinks that
all its departments are capable of the same clearness and solidity of
proofs as mathematics. But when he hears people speak of the unbelief and
impiety of mathematicians, of their professed disregard for the divine
Law, which is notorious, it is true that, out of regard for authority, he
echoes these accusations, but he says to himself at the same time that,
if there was truth in religion, it would not have escaped those who have
displayed so much keenness of intellect in the study of mathematics.”
Next, when he becomes aware of the unbelief and rejection of religion
on the part of these learned men, he concludes that to reject religion
is reasonable. “How many of such men gone astray I have met, whose sole
argument was that just mentioned!” (p. 28).
Not only mathematics but astronomy and other sciences were then in
alleged conflict with the facts of revelation. Al-Ghazali must have felt
this very keenly, for he says: “The ignorant Moslem thinks the best way
to defend religion is by rejecting all the exact sciences. Accusing
their professors of being astray, he rejects their theories of the
eclipses of the sun and moon, and condemns them in the name of religion.
These accusations are carried far and wide, they reach the ears of the
philosopher who knows that these theories rest on infallible proofs;
far from losing confidence in them, he believes, on the contrary, that
Islam has ignorance and the denial of scientific proofs for its basis,
and his devotion to philosophy increases with his hatred to religion. It
is therefore a great injury to religion to suppose that the defense of
Islam involves the condemnation of the exact sciences. The religious law
contains nothing which approves them or condemns them, and in their turn
they make no attack on religion. The words of the Prophet: ‘The sun and
moon are two signs of the power of God; they are not eclipsed for the
birth or the death of any one; when you see these signs take refuge in
prayer, and invoke the name of God’—these words I say, do not in any way
condemn the astronomical calculations which define the orbits of these
two bodies, their conjunction and opposition according to particular
laws.”[26] We must remember in this connection that it was Omar Khayyam,
the poet astronomer, who at this very time was leading many into
scepticism.
After a knowledge of Arabic grammar, and memorizing the Koran, the
diligent student would take up its critical and devotional study.
Al-Ghazali’s teachers undoubtedly emphasized, as he did himself, the
importance of correct reading of the sacred volume. In one of the most
beautiful passages in his _Ihya_, Al-Ghazali himself notes the following
points: The reader must be clean outwardly, and respect the book with
outward reverence. He must read the proper quantity. He quotes with
approval the practice of Saʾad and Othman, that the Koran should be read
through once a week. One should use chanting (_tartil_), for this is
helpful to the memory, and makes us read slowly, and rapid reading is
not approved. One should read it with weeping, _i. e._, sorrow for sins.
One should give the proper responses in the proper places. One should
use the opening prayer before beginning to read. It may be read secretly
or aloud. It must be read beautifully—according to the Tradition: “Adorn
the Koran by the sweetness of your voice;” or another Tradition: “He who
does not sing the Koran is not of our religion.” One day when the Prophet
heard Abu Musa reading the Koran he said: “Verily, to this reader God has
given the voice of David when he wrote the Psalms.”
We may believe that Yusuf Nassaj, his first teacher, who was a mystic, as
well as, later, the Imam al-Haramain, laid considerable emphasis on the
points here mentioned. The atmosphere in which Al-Ghazali was educated,
we must never forget, was that of mysticism.
The study of the Koran was followed by that of the Traditions, of which
the standard collections were already in circulation. After this, a
youth in Al-Ghazali’s day would begin the study of _Fiqh_, or Moslem
jurisprudence. We know from the contents of the standard works on this
subject, written before Al-Ghazali’s time, and later by himself, what
engrossed the attention in the schools of Tus and Jurjan.[27] His first
lesson would be on ceremonial purity by the use of ablution, the bath,
the tooth-pick and the various circumstances of legal defilement when
_ghasl_ or complete ablution is prescribed; of the ailments of women
and the duration of pregnancy. Then came the second part of the book
on prayer, its occasions, conditions, and requirements, including the
four things in which the prayer of a woman differs from that of a man.
He would learn all about the poor-rate (_zakat_), about fasting and
pilgrimage, about the laws of barter and sale and debt; about inheritance
and wills—a most difficult and complicated subject. Then the pupil would
pass on to marriage and divorce, a very large subject, and one on which
Moslem law books show no reserve, and leave no detail unmentioned. Then
would follow the laws in regard to crime and violence, Holy War, and the
ritual of sacrifice at the Great Feast. The last three chapters of books
on _Fiqh_ generally deal with oaths, evidence, and the manumission of
slaves.[28]
From his youth up Al-Ghazali belonged to the Shafiʾ School, one of the
four orthodox systems of jurisprudence. The Imam ash-Shafiiʾ, whose tomb
at Cairo was afterwards visited by Al-Ghazali, and is still a place of
pilgrimage, died in A. H. 204. He chose the _via media_ between the
slavery of tradition and the freedom of logic and deduction in Moslem
law. According to Macdonald, “Ash-Shafiʾi was without question one of
the greatest figures in the history of law. Perhaps he had not the
originality and keenness of Abu Hanifa; but he had a balance of mind and
temper, a clear vision and full grasp of means and ends, that enabled
him to say what proved to be the last word in the matter. After him came
attempts to tear down; but they failed. The fabric of the Muslim canon
law stood firm.” The adherents of the school of Shafiiʾ now number some
sixty million persons, of whom about a half are in the Netherland Indies,
and the rest in Egypt, Syria, Hadramaut, Southern India, and Malaysia.
Among all of these Al-Ghazali the Shafiʾite naturally holds a place of
supreme honour.
An interesting story is told in connection with his studies under the
Imam Abu Nasr al-Ismaʾili. He took copious notes under this celebrated
teacher, but neglected to memorize what he had written. This seems to
have been a characteristic of his, according to Macdonald, because his
quotations are often exceedingly careless; and one of the charges
brought against him by his assailants afterwards was that he falsified
tradition. “On his way back to Tus from Jurjan, however, he got his
lesson. He tells the story himself. Robbers fell upon him, stripped him,
and even carried off the bag with his manuscripts. This was more than
he could stand; he ran after them, clung to them though threatened with
death, and entreated the return of the notes—they were of no use to them.
Al-Ghazali had a certain quality of dry humour, and was evidently tickled
by the idea of these thieves studying law. The robber chief asked him
what were these notes of his. Said Al-Ghazali with great simplicity:
‘They are writings in that bag; I travelled for the sake of hearing them
and writing them down, and knowing the science in them.’ Thereat the
robber chief laughed consumedly, and said: ‘How can you profess to know
the science in them, when we have taken them from you and stripped you of
the knowledge, and there you are without any science?’ But he gave them
him back. ‘And,’ says Al-Ghazali, ‘this man was sent by God to teach me.’
So Al-Ghazali went back to Tus, and spent three years there committing
his notes to memory as a precaution against future robbers.”[29]
Shortly afterwards Al-Ghazali left Tus a second time to pursue his
studies at Nishapur under the most celebrated teacher of that period
in this great literary centre. Nishapur was situated forty-nine miles
west of Tus, and was captured by the Arabs in A. H. 31. Yakut, in his
geographical dictionary, says that of all the cities he had visited this
was the finest. It was in this city that Hamadhani wrote his four-hundred
_Maqamat_ and vanquished his great literary rival.
Other great names are connected with the city, among them Omar Khayyam
the poet, the Koran commentator Ahmed al-Thaʾlabi, and Maidani the author
of the well-known collection of Arabic proverbs.
The older name of the town or district was Abrashahr. The importance of
the place under the Sasanians was in part religious; one of the three
holiest fire temples was in its neighbourhood. Nishapur under the Moslems
contained a large Arab element; it became the capital of Khorasan, and
greatly increased in prosperity, under the almost independent princes
of the house of Tahir (A. D. 820-873). Istakhri describes it as a
well-fortified town, a league square, with a great export of cotton
goods and raw silk. In the decline of the empire the city had much to
suffer from the Turkomans, whose raids have in modern times destroyed
the prosperity of this whole region. In 1153 it was utterly ruined by
the Ghuzz Turkomans, but soon rose again, because, as Yakut remarks, its
position gave it command of the entire caravan trade with the East. It
was taken and razed to the ground by Mongols in 1221, but a century later
Ibn Batuta found the city again flourishing, with four colleges, numerous
students, and an export of silk-stuffs to India. Nishapur was famous for
its fruits and gardens which gave it the epithet of “little Damascus.”
We have an interesting portrait of Al-Ghazali’s chief teacher while he
was at Nishapur,—Abul-Maʾali ʿAbdal-Malik Al-Juwaini Imam al-Haramain. He
was born at Bushtaniqan, near Nishapur, on the twelfth of February, 1028,
and was one of the most learned and celebrated teachers of Moslem law in
his day. “On the death of his father, Abu Muhammed ʿAbdallah ibn Yusuf,
who was a teacher in the latter town, he took his place, though barely
twenty years of age.” But this was a time of literary prodigies due to
precocious talent and prodigious power of memory. “To complete his own
studies, and to make the sacred pilgrimage, he went to Bagdad and thence
to the two holy cities, Mecca and Medina, where he taught for four years;
hence his surname, which signifies ‘the teacher of the two holy places.’
When he returned to Nishapur, Nizam Al-Mulk founded a school for him, in
which he gave courses of lessons till his death, which overtook him on
the twentieth of August, 1085, while on a visit to his native village,
whither he had gone in the hope of recovering from an illness. Along
with his professorial duties, he had discharged those of a preacher. At
Nishapur he held gatherings every Friday, at which he preached sermons,
and presided over discussions on various doctrinal points: to these
occupations he added that of managing the _waqfs_, or landed property
devoted to the support of pious undertakings. For more than thirty years
he continued in undisputed possession of these various posts. When he
died, the mourning was general; the great pulpit of the Mosque from which
he had delivered his sermons was broken up, and his pupils, to the number
of four hundred and one, destroyed their pens and ink-horns, and gave up
their studies for a year.”[30] It is certain that Al-Ghazali sat at his
feet as a learner, both at Nishapur and Bagdad, and we may imagine that
he had a part also in the general mourning at the death of the Imam,
the manuscript of whose masterpiece, _Nihayat al-Matlab_ (Finality of
Inquiry), is still preserved in Cairo in the Sultania Library.
At Nishapur, Al-Ghazali was one of the favourite pupils of this Imam, and
here his studies were of the broadest, embracing theology, dialectics,
philosophy and logic. He was a teacher as well as a student, for we are
told that he would “read to his fellow students and teach them, until in
a short time he became infirm and weak.” Under the double task his health
failed, but he did not give up his studies. The Imam once said of him,
and two other notable pupils: “Al-Ghazali is a sea to drown in, Al-Kiya
is a tearing lion, and Al-Khawafi is a burning fire.” Another saying of
his about the same three was: “Whenever they contend together, the proof
belongs to Al-Khawafi, the warlike attacks to Al-Ghazali, and clearness
to Al-Kiya.” To this time of his life belongs the remark also, made by
some one unnamed, “The youth Al-Ghazali showed externally a vain-glorious
disposition, but underneath there was something that when it did appear
showed graceful expression and delicate allusion, soundness of attention,
and strength of character.”
“I cannot ascertain,” says Macdonald in speaking of this period of
Al-Ghazali’s life, “whether while he was still at Nishapur he touched
those depths of scepticism of which he speaks in the _Munqidh_. They must
certainly have been reached some time before the year A. H. 484, and
must have been the outcome of a long drift of development; but probably
so long as he was under the influence of the Imam-al-Haramain, a devout
Sufi, he would be held more or less fast to the old faith.”
Of these struggles of his soul in an age of doubt and how he found relief
the next chapter will tell us.
III
Teaching, Conversion, and Retirement
“Al-Ghazali is one of the deepest thinkers, greatest
theologians and profoundest moralists of Islam. In all
Muhamadan lands he is celebrated both as an apologist of
orthodoxy and a warm advocate of Sufi mysticism. Intimately
acquainted with all the learning of his time, he was not only
one of the numerous Oriental philosophers who traverse every
sphere of intellectual activity, but one of those rarer minds
whose originality is not crushed by their learning. He was
imbued with a sacred enthusiasm for the triumph of his faith,
and his whole life was dedicated to one purpose, the defense of
Islam.”
—_“Mystics and Saints of Islam,” Claud Field._
III
TEACHING, CONVERSION, AND RETIREMENT
With the death of the Imam in A. H. 478 a great change came into the life
of Al-Ghazali. He left Nishapur to seek his fortune and it brought him to
the camp court of the great Vizier Nizam Al-Mulk. Here Al-Ghazali sought
advancement and the honours of learning.
The camp court was the travelling capital of the Seljuk Sultans. This
imperial camp was laid out into squares and streets. We read how in a few
hours a city, as if built by enchantment, would rise on the uninhabited
plain. The camp exhibited a motley collection of tents and dwellings and
palm-leaf huts. The only regular part of the encampment were the streets
of shops, each of which was constructed in the manner of a booth at an
English fair. Moore gives us the picture in these words:
“Whose are the gilded tents that crowd the way,
Where all was waste and silent yesterday?
This City of War, which, in a few short hours,
Hath sprung up here, as if the magic powers
Of him who, in the twinkling of a star,
Built the high pillar’d halls of Chilminar,
Had conjured up, far as the eye can see,
This world of tents and domes and sun-bright armoury.—
Princely pavilions, screen’d by many a fold
Of crimson cloth, and topp’d with balls of gold;—
Steeds, with their housings of rich silver spun,
And camels, tufted o’er with Yemen’s shells,
Shaking in every breeze their light-toned bells.”[31]
As for Nizam Al-Mulk we have an interesting autobiography which he wrote
and left as a memorial for future statesmen. (It is quoted in Mirkhond’s
“History of the Assassins.”) “One of the greatest of the wise men of
Khorasan,” says he, “was the Imam Mowaffak of Nishapur, a man highly
honoured and reverenced,—may God rejoice his soul; his illustrious years
exceeded eighty-five, and it was the universal belief that every boy who
read the Koran or studied the traditions in his presence would assuredly
attain to honour and happiness. For this cause did my father send me from
Tus to Nishapur with Abd-us-Samad, the doctor of law, that I might employ
myself in study and learning under the guidance of that illustrious
teacher. Towards me he ever turned an eye of favour and kindness, and
as his pupil I felt for him extreme affection and devotion, so that I
passed four years in his service. When I first came there, I found two
other pupils of mine own age newly arrived—Hakim Omar Khayyam, and the
ill-fated Ibn Sabbah, founder of the sect of the Assassins. Both were
endowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers; and we
three formed a close friendship together. When the Imam rose from his
lectures, they used to join me, and we repeated to each other the lessons
we had heard. Now Omar was a native of Nishapur, while Hasan Ibn Sabbah’s
father was one Ali, a man of austere life and practice but heretical in
his creed and doctrine. One day Hasan said to me and to Khayyam: ‘It is
a universal belief that the pupils of the Imam Mowaffak will attain to
fortune. Now, even if we all do not attain thereto, without doubt one of
us will; what then shall be our mutual pledge and bond?’ We answered:
‘Be it what you please.’ ‘Well,’ he said, ‘let us make a vow, that to
whomsoever this fortune falls, he shall share it equally with the rest,
and reserve no preëminence for himself.’ ‘Be it so,’ we both replied, and
on these terms we mutually pledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went
from Khorasan to Transoxiana, and wandered to Ghazni and Kabul; and when
I returned I was invested with office, and rose to be administrator of
affairs during the Sultanate of Sultan Alp Arslan.”
After his education at Nishapur Nizam Al-Mulk served Alp Arslan, the
successor of Togrul Bey, and for more than twenty years the burden of
the empire of the Seljuks rested on his shoulders. When Alp Arslan
died in 465 Malek Shah succeeded him and from that time until his
assassination, on the tenth of Ramadan, 485, Nizam Al-Mulk was the
greatest man in the empire and its real ruler. He was a friend of
learning and letters and established colleges in many centres.
In A. H. 484, Al-Ghazali gained high fame at court and was appointed by
Nizam Al-Mulk to teach in the _Madrasa_ at Bagdad, the capital of the
whole of Eastern Islam.
We have an interesting picture of the city of Bagdad about this time
from the pen of Rabbi Benjamin, of Tudela, who visited the city some
years after Al-Ghazali’s death (1160). He says: “The circumference of
the city of Bagdad measures three miles; the country in which it is
situated is rich in palm-trees, gardens and orchards, so that nothing
equals it in Mesopotamia; merchants of all countries resort thither for
purposes of trade, and it contains many wise philosophers well skilled
in sciences, and magicians proficient in all sorts of witchcraft. The
palace of the Caliph at Bagdad is three miles in extent. It contains a
large park of all sorts of trees, both useful and ornamental, and all
sorts of beasts, as well as a pond of water led thither from the river
Tigris; and whenever the Caliph desires to enjoy himself and to sport
and to carouse, birds, beasts and fishes are prepared for him and for
his councillors, whom he invites to his palace.” He gives us a glimpse
of what went on behind the walls of these royal palaces when he says:
“All the brothers and other members of the Caliph’s family are accustomed
to kiss his garments, and every one of them possesses a palace within
that of the Caliph; but they are all fettered by chains of iron, and
a special officer is appointed over every household to prevent their
rising in rebellion against the great king. These measures are enacted
in consequence of an occurrence which took place some time ago, and upon
which occasion the brothers rebelled and elected a king among themselves.
To prevent this in future, it was decreed that all the members of the
Caliph’s family should be chained, in order to prevent their rebellious
intentions. Every one of them, however, resides in his palace, is there
much honoured, and they possess villages and towns, the rents of which
are collected for them by their stewards; they eat and drink, and lead a
merry life.
“The palace of the great king contains large buildings, pillars of
gold and silver, and treasures of precious stones. The Caliph leaves
his palace but once every year, viz., at the time of the feast called
Ramadan. Upon this occasion many visitors assemble from distant parts,
in order to have an opportunity of beholding his countenance. He then
bestrides the royal mule, dressed in kingly robes, which are composed
of gold and silver cloth. On his head he wears a turban, ornamented
with precious stones of inestimable value; but over this turban is
thrown a black veil, as a sign of humility, and as much as to say: ‘See,
all this worldly honour will be converted into darkness on the day of
death.’ He is accompanied by a numerous retinue of Mohammedan nobles,
arrayed in rich dresses, and riding upon horses; princes of Arabia, of
Media, of Persia, and even of Thibet, a country distant three months’
journey from Arabia. This procession goes from the Palace to the Mosque
at the Basra gate, which is the Metropolitan Mosque. All those who walk
in procession are dressed in silk and purple, both men and women. The
streets and squares are enlivened by singing, rejoicings, and by parties
who dance before the great king, called Caliph. He is loudly saluted by
the assembled crowd, who cry, ‘Blessed art thou, our lord and king.’ He
thereupon kisses his garment, and by holding it in his hand, acknowledges
and returns the compliment. The procession moves on into the court of the
Mosque, where the Caliph mounts a wooden pulpit, and expounds their law
unto them. The learned Mohammedans rise, pray for him, and praise his
great kindness and piety; upon which the whole assembly answer, ‘Amen.’
He then pronounces his blessing and kills a camel, which is led thither
for that purpose, and this is their offering, which is distributed to
the nobles. These send portions of it to their friends, who are eager to
taste of the meat killed by the hands of their holy king, and are much
rejoiced therewith. He then leaves the Mosque, and returns alone to his
Palace along the banks of the Tigris, the noble Mohammedans accompanying
him in boats until he enters his buildings. He never returns by the way
he came, and the path on the bank of the river is carefully guarded all
the year around, so as to prevent any one treading in his footsteps. The
Caliph never leaves his palace again for a whole year.
“He is a pious and benevolent man, and has erected buildings on the other
side of the river, on the banks of an arm of the Euphrates which runs on
one side of the city. These buildings include many large houses, streets,
and hostelries for the sick poor, who resort thither in order to be
cured. There are about sixty medical warehouses here, all well provided
from the king’s stores with spices and other necessaries; and every
patient who claims assistance is fed at the king’s expense until his cure
is completed. There is further the large building called Dar-ul-Marastan
(the abode of the insane), in which are locked up all those insane
persons who are met with, particularly during the hot season, every one
of whom is secured by iron chains until his reason returns, when he is
allowed to return to his home.”